Chapter Text
Fred had never been wanting for companionship. Having six siblings would do that to a bloke. Never was he alone, really. Especially not since he had a built in best friend in the shape of his reflection. George and him never really fought about anything because they generally just agreed on everything. They were completely in sync, whether it be for their dreams of opening up a joke shop or getting one over on their siblings or classmates. Not since the moment he’d been born had he been alone. That was the beautiful thing about having such a large family: he’d never feel lonely.
Maybe that’s why he decided to help out the pathetic looking fourth year who was standing outside an empty train car looking despondent and like the world was coming to an end.
He nudged George’s shoulder, interrupting their track towards the sweets trolley before the arseholes called Slytherins took all the good snacks. He nodded towards the kid and George instantly understood, his eyes lighting up as he affected a cheery light. That was one thing that nobody, not even the rest of their family really knew about their ol’ brother George: he was quite the sourpuss, not that he’d ever admit it. Smiling didn’t really come naturally to him, whereas it was rare not to see a smile on Fred’s face.
With twin smiles on their faces and long strides towards the bloke in horribly distressed muggle clothing, Fred promised himself to make the train journey as comfortable for everyone as possible.
“”Ello,” Fred said in an old-timey conductor voice he once heard in a radio show his dad used to listen to before it got taken off the air for low ratings.
“Listen up here!” George said, mimicking a train whistle.
The kid looked at them with a shocked expression, his wide green eyes hiding behind a pair of even wider spectacles.
“We’re doing a survey for the Hogwarts train,” Fred began.
“Nasty business, soliciting,” George added.
“But it’s the only way to put clothes on the table-”
“-and food on our backs!” George finished.
Fred was delighted in the bemused expression of the bloke. The tears and frustrated flush on his face had disappeared and were exchanged with a look of utter confusion. It was quite cute, really, if Fred were into that sort of thing. (he was, he really very much was)
“Um, sorry,” the guy said in a meek voice, barely audible over the sound of the train moving along the tracks.
“Whatever for?” Fred asked, dropping his accent.
“Quite right,” George said, draping an arm across Fred’s shoulders. “We’re the ones bothering you.”
“I-I don’t have any money,” the bespectacled boy said. Said bespectacled boy pushed up his spectacles with the knuckle of his index finger, and Fred followed the motion to find bruising on the kid’s wrist.
“Neither do we,” George said, sighing with all the seriousness of a broke wizard in the same existence as an entire trolley filled with cakes and jelly beans and chocolate made out of frogs.
“Oh, wait, Forge, the frogs are made out of chocolate, not the other way around!” Fred exclaimed, looking at his brother. George nodded in understanding. He leaned towards the guy, who jumped a little.
“He gets it messed up quite frequently, I’m afraid. No idea what to do with this one.”
“You’re stuck with me. After all, without me, you’d never make your quota.”
“Quota?” the kid asked. The frustration was appearing back on his face.
“We’re solicitors, didn’t we say that already?”
The kid looked at the cabin door, as if he would take his chances on it rather than staying here. He then shifted from one foot to the next, worrying his lip. Fred couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was, all full of nerves and confusion.
“Listen, if this is about me knowing about your secret room behind the tapestry with the chicken heads…” the kid trailed off, but it was enough for both Fred and George to look at each other in surprise. That had been their contraband room for as long as they could remember, and then Fred remembered two years ago when they had found a hyperventilating kid hidden behind a crate of butterbeer crying about being kicked out of the library.
“Oh, you’re Monty Potter’s brother, yeah? Our brothers are friends,” Fred said. Instead of being relieved at their shared traits, the mysterious Potter twin only looked resigned to whatever fate he believed he was being subjected to. To put him at ease, Fred bowed with a flourish of his arms. He saw out of the corner of his eye George following suit.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, fellow twin. I am Fred Weasley.”
“George Weasley, to be sure.”
They both stood up and waited for applause, but they were disappointed. However, Fred could only smile when Potter’s face was flushed. Fred wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or surprise, but it didn’t matter when Potter bowed awkwardly and introduced himself.
“Oh, er, Harry Potter. Nice to, uh, meet you?” he finished with a shrug, looking more unsure of himself than annoyed. Fred would take it happily. Usually, he found three different groups of people: those who were completely annoyed by his and his brother’s antics, like his family and Slytherins (usually) and teachers. The other group consisted of those who got it, like Lee and most of the quidditch team. The third group was Fred’s favorite: the ones who didn’t get it but still tried. They were rare, and Fred cherished them whenever they cropped up.
He’d be honest with himself about the fact that he often forgot about the fact that Monty Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, had a twin brother. Being a twin himself, Fred was quite annoyed with himself about this, but Harry and Monty’s relationship was quite the opposite of his and George’s. He and George were best friends; basically the same person, depending on who you asked (if you asked their mother, they didn’t have different personalities at all).
Fred didn’t remember a single time Harry and Monty had interacted with each other since they had first started attending Hogwarts, which normally Fred wouldn’t find weird. He knew there was another set of twins in Ron’s year and he never paid attention to them. But since Monty was Ron’s best friend and often hung around the Burrow during holidays, to never hear Harry’s name uttered was strange.
Especially when it turned out that he was one of Fred’s favorite kinds of people. Especially since Harry seemed to exude loneliness through every pore of his body, desperation wafting off his aura, if Fred were the kind of person to believe in auras (he wasn’t George, for Merlin’s sake!). Being a twin, Harry shouldn’t have ever had to understand what loneliness consisted of.
“Right, well now that introductions are good and done,” George started, but Fred held a hand to his chest with a look. He wasn’t quite done, and George, despite the bags under his eyes and the frustration in the lines of his forced smile, understood at once.
“Well, Harry, can I call you Harry?” Fred asked. With a shy nod, Fred continued. “Thank you, Harry, it’s always good to be able to call people by their first names, don’t you agree, Gred?”
“Oh, I actually disagree, Forge, I think it’s despicable to call someone by their given name. Feels rather like I’m taking it, really.”
“And it’s not even yours!”
“And it’s not even mine! Exactly, chum, you agree!”
“Indubitably,” Fred said, fixing his nonexistent collar. Harry mouthed the words ‘what the fuck’ and Fred only smiled wider since he was still standing there.
“Forge, mate, I think we’ve confused this poor fella here. What do you say we get on with it?” George asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Fred nodded succinctly.
“Apologies, brother. I am incredibly obtuse and forgetful. You see, Harry, we’re doing a survey on everyone in this train to make sure they’re satisfied to their utmost satisfaction. On a scale from one to being cannibalized, how satisfied are you right now?”
“Contemplating whether or not I should transfigure a carving knife,” Harry mumbled.
“Do you hear that, George! A fellow consumer of human flesh! It is so rare these days, I almost contemplated putting an advert in the Daily Prophet to find like-minded people,” Fred said.
“Unfortunately, the last time we did that, we had to eat him,” George added.
“We had to cut short our sojourn into the delicacies of the flesh. You understand,” Fred said, leaning in. He noticed from this close how green Harry’s eyes were behind his scratched lenses. It felt like looking into genuine emeralds. But those striking green eyes weren’t enough to hide from the fact that his right eye was bruised. It was hard to see on his dark skin, especially since it looked faded, but Fred could see it and something inside of him twisted.
“Cannibalism was outlawed in 1025 after wizards figured out that ingesting human flesh made it easier to cast dark magic. It was supposed to be outlawed before that, but the dark wizards kept assassinating the ministers who proposed it.” The words came out of his mouth almost involuntarily with the speed he said them.
“Is that so?” Fred asked softly, still only inches from his face. Harry flushed and nodded quickly. He pushed up his glasses ever so gently and Fred noticed the slight wince he gave when it pushed up against his bruise. Fred hummed and stood up to match his brother’s height.
“So if you’re cannibalism levels of happy, why aren’t you in a compartment?” Fred asked. Harry blinked as if the questioning wasn’t exactly what Fred was trying to ask. He looked towards the compartment they were standing in front of and sighed dejectedly.
“No reason,” he mumbled. Fred looked at George, who gave a slight shrug. Fred looked back and smiled widely.
“Well, good! That means you can join George and I!”
Harry looked up sharply. Somehow, this was the most shocked he’d looked during their entire conversation.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to-”
“Nah, it’ll be boring without you!” Fred said, barreling through whatever excuse Harry would try to come up with. He reached out to pat his shoulder and quickly retracted when he gave a full body flinch. Fred rocked back on his heels and gave what he hoped would be a reassuring smile.
“Come along,” George said, all pretenses of happy go lucky gone from his face. “Our friends are idiots, it’d be good to have someone smart.”
“Angelina isn’t dumb,” Fred countered. George hummed in contemplation.
“I never said they were dumb, I said they’re idiots. There’s a difference. For instance, Freddy and I are the village clowns. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Harry tilted his head. “Wait, wizards have clowns?”
Fred, who didn’t know that muggles had clowns, just shrugged. Fred and George started walking towards their compartment with Harry tagging along behind them with a contemplative look on his face. Fred heard him say under his breath, “I wonder if the library has any books.”
Fred looked away and tried to suppress a little smile. “Cute,” he mumbled. George only scoffed beside him.
When they got to the compartment, Fred was dismayed to find that the trolley witch had already gifted their presence. He all but collapsed in his seat next to Angelina and made sure to leave room for Harry while still being as dramatic as he could.
“I cannot believe Esmerelda besmirched me so!” Fred exclaimed, resting a hand against his forehead in a rather good estimation of a damsel in distress. Harry sat next to him but he sat as closely to the window and made himself as small as he possibly could. Fred was surprised how good he was at it.
“The trolley witch breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the compartment to find that you weren’t here,” Lee said as he bit into a chocolate frog. George sat next to him and took a pumpkin pasty that had fallen to the floor.
“That’s too bad, I was looking forward to my best man speech,” George remarked.
“Esmerelda and I are going to elope, brother,” Fred reminded him. “And if anyone’s invited to our elopement, it would be her devilishly handsome father.”
“The woman who runs the snack trolley is named Claire,” Harry said softly. His face was scrunched up in confusion. “She’s an orphan like m- er, nevermind.”
Everyone looked at Harry in surprise. Angelina, Katie, Alicia, and Lee then turned to Fred with a raised eyebrow, as if they knew he was the one to invite him and not George. That’s well- yeah, obviously.
“Guys, this is Harry. Harry, this is the guys,” Fred introduced, leaning over Angelina to steal a licorice wand. He snuck a chocolate frog under his sleeve and plopped it in Harry’s lap when he wasn’t looking. Harry jumped again and looked at Fred with questioning eyes, but Fred only bit into his candy.
“Hi,” Alicia said with a wave. She was currently braiding Katie’s hair and she had to put a strand in her mouth to wave. It had purple streaks in it, and Fred already knew that McGonagall would throw a fit. The others said their hellos and Harry shyly waved back.
“How do you know Fred’s fiance?” Lee asked. Rigor, his tarantula, was in his little glass cage beside him. Katie and Alicia were on the floor surrounded by candy wrappers and discarded robes and jackets. George and Lee (and Rigor, sorry) were on the opposite bench while Fred, Harry, and Angelina were on the other.
“Claire’s a lesbian,” Harry said as he slowly opened the chocolate frog box. “Sorry to burst your wedding planning, but, hey, at least with your blues you’ll only have to worry about something old, new, and borrowed.”
Fred looked at Harry in mysticism. How had he never noticed him before? Alicia cackled. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry, Harry. Looks like he’s set his eyes on someone new.”
Fred blushed and looked away from Harry. He heard George whisper to Lee, “Starry Eyes Weasley strikes again.” Fred threw the rest of his licorice wand at him.
“So, Harry,” Angelina said, looking over Fred at Harry. “What house are you in?”
Harry looked up with wide eyes as if he was surprised that someone was actually asking him a question. His nimble fingers stopped toying with the chocolate frog box and he worried his upper lip.
“Ravenclaw,” he said so quietly it was kind of hard to hear over the tracks. He looked down with a flush on his cheeks. “I’m not very smart, though.”
“Smart’s overrated,” George said, the liar. They both knew Fred was the dumbass in the equation. George was the brains and Fred was the brave.
“Ravenclaw’s cool. I’ve been in the common room before, it’s so cozy,” Katie said. She was drawing on her trainers. Fred thought he could make out a poorly drawn niffler on the toe.
“Oh, yeah, you dated that Ravenclaw bloke last year. Whatever happened to him?” Alicia asked Katie.
“He kept trying to correct my homework. And not in a sexy tutor kind of way, either. And not in a cool, generous way in which he’d do it for me. I think he just wanted to use the red ink his mum got him for Christmas.”
Fred laughed with the others. Katie had the worst luck with guys.
“I still say your tryst with that one seventh year Hufflepuff was your best work,” Fred said. Katie groaned with the memory as the others laughed.
“Snape caught us behind Hagrid’s hut. I still have no idea why he was out there, not even Hagrid was out there!”
“The story is worth the fifty points Snape took from Gryffindor,” Lee chuckled.
“Says you, I still can’t look at Snape without feeling the need to check my blouse to make sure it’s buttoned,” Katie pouted.
The laughter eventually petered off and conversations split up. Angelina was trying to pop jellybeans across the compartment into George’s mouth but they weren’t very successful. Lee was trying to persuade Katie and Alicia to pet Rigor. Harry was nibbling on his chocolate frog while looking out the window at the passing countryside.
Fred never had much luck with pretty boys (or girls, for that matter). While George had already kissed his fair share of girls, Fred hadn’t so much had a talking phase. Sure, there was the peck with Alicia when they were twelve, but that was before Alicia came out as a lesbian and Fred decided kissing was gross. Ah, twelve. Good times. Way too many detentions.
“Right, Georgie?” Fred asked. George gave him a thumbs up and the others dutifully ignored him. They all knew that Fred and George couldn’t really read each other's minds, but it made others wary of them. Freak people out enough and they’ll leave you alone, or better, they’ll turn you into a cryptid.
Fred chuckled and turned towards the window and found Harry’s eyes on him. They were so big and green, even behind those scratched glasses of his.
“It’s a twin thing,” Fred said reflexively, but he realized his mistake when Harry’s face fell and he looked away.
“Right,” Harry said dejectedly.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“What’s Fred done now?” Angelina asked before pumping her fist because George caught what looked like a vomit flavored bean. Fred suspected he was right because George’s face scrunched up in disgust.
“Said something stupid, as always,” Fred said with a chuckle.
“No, you didn’t, sorry,” Harry said in a rushed voice. His eyebrows were drawn together. “It’s not your fault that Monty and I don’t get along.”
“You know Monty? Monty Potter?” Katie asked. “We’re in the same quidditch team.”
“Kate,” George said in a soft voice. “That’s his brother.”
Katie’s face reddened and she made an ‘o’ with her mouth. “Oh, sorry! I forgot- er, nevermind.”
Harry shrugged awkwardly and his attention remained focused on his lap, chocolate frog abandoned in the box. He didn’t speak for the rest of the train ride. But the others didn’t really notice. Harry was able to sink into the background and make everyone forget about him.
It made Fred realize with clarity why he had never really noticed him before, even when he was confronted with him in his fourth year- it was exactly what Harry had wanted.
Eventually the train stopped and everyone made their way towards the exit, but Fred noticed Harry hovering near the compartment he found him by. George, ever present of his twin, noticed Fred neglecting to walk with them and held back with him.
Fred and George watched as Harry opened the train compartment and sighed dejectedly. Curious, Fred peeked his head in the compartment and found what he assumed was Harry’s belongings strewn across the room. Papers and robes were torn up, quills were broken, and ink quills were spilled on books and clothes.
Harry wasn’t outraged or even surprised; he was just throwing things back into his trunk like it wasn’t a big deal.
“What the hell happened?!” Fred exclaimed, rushing in. He knelt to the ground and picked up a first year charms textbook that had graffiti written all over it. The word ‘squib’ was written in blocky capitalized letters.
“It’s fine, most of the belongings I need are in my bag. This is just decoy,” Harry said with no emotion.
“Who did this?” George asked from the doorway. Harry only shrugged noncommittally and stuffed a bundle of shredded robes in the scuffed and worn down looking trunk. The trunk had been engraved but someone had scratched out the initials to the point where it wasn’t legible.
“Was it the same people who gave you that black eye?” Fred couldn’t help but ask. Harry looked up sharply, his piercing green eyes meeting his.
“You’re going to be late if you stick around,” Harry mumbled, looking away after a long moment. He picked up the last of his broken belongings and closed his trunk. Fred gingerly handed him the chocolate frog box that was on the floor beside him. Harry looked at it for a few seconds before taking it and holding onto it.
“Does this happen often?” George asked once Harry and Fred had exited the compartment.
“It’s fine,” Harry said. Fred shared a look with George. They followed Harry down the long stretch of the train and were surprised when he didn’t exit like they were supposed to, and instead moved towards the train car that held the conductor.
When they were moving from car to car, Fred felt the breeze on his skin and it made him shiver. He saw Hagrid placing tiny eleven year olds into boats and other years entering horseless carriages. Harry looked back at them before opening the car door and rolled his eyes. He turned back to the door and pushed it open. Fred and George followed him, but George was frowning.
“Isn’t this door usually locked?” he asked. Harry didn’t answer and instead took them to a door that had a bronze plaque that read ‘kitchens.’ They entered and it was a sad sight for a kitchen. It wasn’t so much a kitchen as a storage room with a single sink and a couple of cupboards. But a woman was rummaging through the cupboard all the same. She looked at them when she heard the door open.
“Pumpkin!” the woman exclaimed. She had short curly blonde hair that curled at her ears and she was wearing deep burgundy robes with tiny mushrooms embroidered all over. Her earrings had glass beads in different colors and dangled all the way to her collarbones.
“Hi, Claire,” Harry said softly. She smiled widely at him before squinting at Fred and George.
“These boys bothering you?” she asked viciously. Harry looked back at them and cocked his head. He looked like a kitten.
“I don’t know.”
Well that just can’t do. Fred stepped forward towards the illustrious Claire and bowed deeply. George did the same.
“It’s an honor to meet you, oh magnanimous Trolley Witch!”
Claire sighed and muttered ‘dear Merlin’ under her breath. She opened another cupboard and got out a worn leather satchel. There were scuffs and scratches all over it. She handed it to Harry.
“Thank you for keeping it safe,” Harry said. Claire smiled warmly at him. She ruffled his already messy hair and made him grin sheepishly.
“Now that you have access to owls, I expect a letter or two, kid,” Claire said seriously. She gave Fred and George a frown before leaning towards Harry to whisper something. Fred couldn’t make it out, but whatever it was, it made Harry grin shyly. She stood up and patted him on the shoulder.
“Best be off, pumpkin.” She looked at him and George. “You two better keep your hands to your own belongings, alright? I may be a squib but that doesn’t mean I’m not handy with knives.”
True to her word, she brandished a knife out of seemingly nowhere and twirled the handle in her hand. This was not helping Fred’s fantasy of marrying her.
“Of course not, m’lady,” Fred said, puffing up his chest. “George and I have only the best interests at heart with Harry!”
George scoffed to his side and Fred pushed him into the doorway. Harry looked at them, unimpressed. He fastened his bag on his shoulder and turned to the Trolley… lady.
“Bye, Claire.”
She ruffled his hair again and they walked away. Fred strided up to Harry’s side once they were out of the car and towards the exit. George straggled behind but kept a steady pace.
“You’re friends with the Trolley Witch,” Fred observed. Harry was putting his Ravenclaw tie on.
“Not a witch,” Harry said. His voice wasn’t as high pitched as Fred might have assumed. Monty’s voice was a lot higher. And posher. Harry had a more common accent and frankly, it really fit him.
“How’d you meet her?” he asked. Harry dug in his satchel and took out a robe. He had to take off his bag to put it on, and Fred placed out his hand to hold it, but Harry put the strap between his teeth instead. Robe on, he put the bag back on.
“Met her in second year,” was all he supplied. He didn’t say anything else as they walked towards the gate. The first years had already gone off on their little boats herded by Hagrid and most of the carriages had taken off. There were only a couple left.
Before getting into a carriage, Harry held out a hand a few inches away from the carriage and let out a small giggle as his hand moved.
“Uh, you alright?” Fred asked. Harry didn’t pay him any attention as he petted the air. After a few moments, Harry got into the carriage and they followed.
“Thestrals,” Harry explained. “I can’t see them but obviously they’re there.”
“Thestrals?” George asked. “Aren’t they omens of death?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s a myth that was created by Wilson Friederkson in the early 1820s to justify his exploitation of them. They aren’t omens of death. It isn’t their fault that they’re only visible to those who have seen death.”
He was such a nerd. Fred could listen to him talk all day.
The carriage ride didn’t take long at all and before Fred could convince Harry to talk more about thestrals, they were at the castle. Harry got out without another word but he could see him out the window petting the air again. George leaned to him and whispered, “Starry Eyes Weasley.” Fred elbowed him.
“He’s so cute!” Fred whispered to him. George chuckled. He nodded towards the window where Harry had already walked off towards the castle. “Your cute boyfriend is leaving.” But before Fred could chase him, George grabbed his arm.
“Don’t forget what this year is really about, Freddy.” Fred gave him a look.
“Crushing Bagman and getting our money back is the top priority, never fret, brother. But that doesn’t mean I can’t dabble in the art of love.”
“Just as long as it doesn’t conflict with our experiments.”
“Who knows? Maybe Harry can help with our budding joke shop and our revenge on Bagman.”
“Mm hmm,” George said, unconvinced. Fred huffed and dragged them out of the carriage.
“Harry, wait up!” Fred shouted.