A/N I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say to you guys, besides I'm sorry, and

"What was that that he was about to curse that man with? I couldn't hear what it was, but it didn't sound familiar."

Fred conjured a cloth and used it to clean George's face. "It sounded like he said… Interficio, I think. You ever heard it?"

Hermione took a moment to think before pursing her lips. "It's Latin, like most spells. It's a third conjugation verb, the first principle part of interficere. It means to kill. I'll need to do some more research, but it seems as though there's more than one killing curse."

Fred shook his head ran a hand through his hair, cringing slightly when his fingers caught the strands in the places were George had attempted to pull it from the roots, thinking again that he needed to cut it.

"I'm not entirely sure that I understand this, Hermione," he began. "Although, to be fair, you probably paid more attention in charms than I did."

Hermione's demeanor changed slightly, and he was instantly reminded of their school days. "Well, almost anything could be turned into a spell if you have the correct intentions behind it. That's why we can do wandless magic—the words are just to help us funnel our intentions and our magic into our wands—it's also why we tend to use Latin for our spells: that way we can think of the intention, rather than the connotation or denotation of the words that we're using. For the most part, we tend to avoid redundant spells, simply because it's too much to have to remember. But I suppose that there are multiple ways of achieving just about any means, and if he truly wanted that man dead, then there is no doubt in my mind that his magic would have allowed it to happen."

Fred sighed and kneeled down next to Hermione, who was finishing the task of wiping the thick, viscous salve into George's scars. "Can we help him? You said that Parkinson said that people are dying from this… and that's just not an option. I can't live without him, Hermione."

Hermione smiled sadly as she wiped her hands on a handkerchief from her bag and gently smoothed George's hair from his brow, softly laying her wand on his forehead to test his temperature as he slipped into unconsciousness from the effects of the potion.

"I think I have an idea. But we're going to need help and we're certainly not going to enjoy it… and neither will he."

Fred sighed, but nodded anyway. "What do we do from here? Take him upstairs and put him to bed?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I think we need to get this dealt with as soon as possible. As much as I hate to say this, I think we need to get him to the Burrow and talk to the entire family. I'll call Bill and Charlie if you can get him in bed over there."

Rather than use his magic, Fred hefted George up into his arms and over his shoulder, more than a little bit thankful that he continued to play quidditch as often as he did, and that George had let himself lose a bit of his muscle mass, as Hermione followed closely behind before she threw a palm full of floo powder in for him.

"The Burrow," he called, stepping through with George's weight settled firmly against his shoulder. As soon as the flames died back to red, Hermione fell to her knees and lightly sprinkled them with the same, settling her upper body into the strange chill of the fire.

"Bill, are you in?"

.:.

Twenty minutes later, eight Weasleys—George being upstairs in his and Fred's bedroom with a ward on the door set to alert them if he awoke—two Potters, and a Granger were all seated around the kitchen table.

Molly had just placed the last cup of tea in front her husband when Hermione began to talk, many of the Weasleys curious as to what was going on.

"Here's what I understand is happening with George. I believe that it's the cause of his running out here the other week, and I believe it is what caused the fight between him and Fred last night. It has to do with the Sectumsempra that Professor Snape hit him with during the 'flight of the Harrys'. The curse didn't just cut: it's a parasite that's living inside of him and all but cauterized its only way out. Whenever he is getting too worked up with negative emotions, the curse reopens the wound and his anger coagulates in his blood and they both begin to seep out of the reopened scars. Professor Snape had, according to Pansy Parkinson, created a potion that can draw the curse back out. She did say that unless he starts bleeding from the curse's effects, however, the potion is useless. This is where you'll all help."

She fell silent for a moment and a quiet gasp came from one end of the table, "Mon Dieu!"

Hermione frowned and took a long sip from her tea. "Exactly, Fleur. We need to get him as upset as possible. We need him to be hurt, angry, offended, whatever it takes to get him to his breaking point. You're his family, there's nothing you'll be able to do quite as well as tear him down."

Molly Weasley cleared her throat quietly, and spoke for the first time since they'd sat down. "No, Hermione. We're all his family."

Hermione turned the corners of her mouth up in what could have passed for a smile, and gently nodded her head. "Thank you, Molly."

She hadn't forgotten, but it was in her nature to try to forgive.

"Bill, Charlie, you'll be the most important part of this. I'll need you two to hold him down. I'll be placing a temporary magic dampening charm on the room that'll last for a couple of hours. Pansy gave me more than enough potion, considering the fact that his founds are nowhere near as extensive or as old as Draco's. You two will need to keep him restrained without using magic, and prevent him from fighting back."

"Why is the magic dampening charm necessary?" Percy asked from Arthur's left.

"If he has access to his magic, he could use wandless magic to cause some sort of damage to us or the home. We need him to be unable to fight him, and we need to be unwilling to fight him with anything besides our vitriol. Channel your inner Severus Snape. You all need to think of every single nasty thing that you've ever thought about him, about Fred, and about me. Even if you don't truly hold the opinions, or even if you do, it doesn't matter. We need to hurt him, as hard as that may be. As he's bleeding, we're going to need someone to pour cold water over the wound and massage the salve into the skin. Is there anyone who honestly feels as if they cannot manage to bring up enough malice or anger and find some way to channel it towards George?"

Fleur slowly raised her hand. "I would love to be of help to my brother-in-law, but I don't feel as if I really know him well enough to say such hurtful things that would hurt him specifically."

Hermione nodded. "Perfect, Fleur. Then we'll fill as many pitchers as we can find with cold water, and you need to keep it flowing over the scars whenever you aren't rubbing the potion into it. Now, the sooner we can deal with this, the sooner we can help George."

One by one, they all filtered into the living room and set up all of the necessary supplies. Once everything was ready, Fred, Charlie, Ron, and Bill went upstairs to bring him downstairs as Hermione, Molly, Arthur, Percy, Ginny, and Harry all started trying to think up the worst things they could possibly say to George. As his friends and family, they were more aware of his personal fears and insecurities than any one else would be.

"Molly, Arthur, I think it might be best if you two don't participate. There are some things that might get said tonight that I don't think you should have to hear, but we shouldn't have to hold back in order to avoid offending you, either," Harry said quietly, linking eyes with Hermione, who nodded back at him.

Percy chimed in for the first time since arriving. "I agree, actually. I know that it would be easier for him to understand later if most of the things that are said come from us, but you're our parents, and anything that you say to him is guaranteed to cut deeper than anything that any of the rest of us could possibly come up with: you're supposed to love us unconditionally, and I don't think that it'd be as easy for him to forgive you two."

"But Percy—" Molly began.

"Don't, Mum," Ginny said. "He'll already be having a hard enough time trying to forgive you for what happened when Hermione came over for dinner. Don't make this harder and more confusing for him."

Arthur and Molly nodded, and Arthur grabbed their coats from the rack, tugging the front door open. "Come on, Mols. Let's go for a walk, eh? Let's go out to the lake and look at the stars."

Molly reluctantly allowed herself to be eased into her coat and followed Arthur out of the door, closing it behind them as a muted crash sounded from upstairs, and those staying behind heard George begin to yell, "Put me down! Fuck, let go of me you tossers!"

Fred, Bill, Ron, and Charlie all came staggering down the stairs, a twisting and flailing George held fast as two held him arms and two held his legs. They forced him into a straight backed wooden chair and Bill stood behind him, pulling his arms tightly behind his back as Charlie kneeled by his feet, arms wrapped tight around George's shins.

"What are you all doing? Let me go!" George shouted as he tried to shake his brothers off, his eyes dark and cloudy. "I said let go! What the fuck is going on?"

Everyone stood, no one wanting to be the first to make a move.

"I asked you a question! What can't any of you answer me? Why is the fucking mudblood here?"

And with that, the mood in the room shifted, and Hermione stood up straighter, quickly grabbing Fred's hand and striding to stand directly in front of him.

"You were right, George. You were nowhere near good enough for me. Fred and I will be getting married, without you, because I've realized that Fred is all that I need to be happy."

The skin of George's scars began to crack and redden, but did not yet start to bleed as he tried to get free again.

This time, Fred spoke. "You were a plaything, Georgie. You were a fun way to keep myself amused while I waited for something better to come along. You have no idea how often Hermione and I would slip off to another bedroom once you'd gone to bed and laugh at you. We'd laugh at the way you'd believe us when we'd say, "We love you, Georgie," or the way that you'd believe Hermione when she'd arch her back and call you 'baby'. You're an idiot to think that we ever loved you."

The blood had begun to flow freely from his ear, and Fleur immediately set to work rubbing the potion in to the seeping flesh, only to begin to flush it with water again when the force of the blood began so much that the thickness of the potion could no longer keep it back.

Ron stepped into George's field of vision and crouched down to be at eyelevel.

"I hated you because Hermione chose you over me, but know I realize that I fucking pity you. She's a slag, mate, and you have to live with the knowledge that you had my and Fred's sloppy seconds. Look at the way she's been looking at the others. She might move on to Percy for his intellect, to Bill for his ability to perform intricate spell work, or to Charlie for his ruggedness. What do you have? Absolutely nothing, besides a disgusting claim to desire the flesh of your own brother. Are any of the rest of us safe? Are you going to come after Ginny next? You're disgusting, but no more disgusting than she is."

Ron stepped back out of George's field of view and let out a shaky break, making eye contact with Hermione and mouthing 'I'm sorry'. She nodded as George began to scream.

"I knew it, Ron was right about you. One Weasley wasn't enough, and neither were two. What'll be next for you, huh? All of the men willing to take you at once?" Fleur let out a quiet gasp and faltered in her motions, but one quick glance at Hermione had her resolved and rubbing the potion back into the wound, glancing down quickly and her husband who frowned at her and learned forward. "S'il vous plaît aidez-moi Dieu," he whispered before placing his mouth close to George's right ear.

"That's not what's going to be next for her, Georgie, it's already happened. Just close your eyes, can't you see it? Can't you imagine those curls buried in Percy's lap as Charlie, Fred and I all take our turns with her delightful little body? I'm sure you're familiar with the way her body clutches at you as you're trying to pull out? How about the way her nails scratch at your back when you hit just the right spot deep inside of her?"

George threw himself forward in the chair, nearly making Bill slam his head into the back of the chair. Charlie leaned harder on his legs and Bill reached up to pull George's head back to allow Fleur better access to his head.

"Je suis désolé", Bill whispered to his wife. "Je suis vraiment désolé."

Fleur nodded as she continued to smooth the potion into her brother-in-law's wounds.

"Je sais, l'amour, je sais."

"Shut up!" George yelled, thrashing in his seat.

Hermione stepped closer forward. "What is it, Georgie? You don't want me but other people can't have me? Even Percy is more useful that you are."

George shook as more of the blood streamed from his head. For a quick moment, Hermione found herself thinking about how difficult it would be for her to get the bloodstains out of her shirt before she mentally relegated the task to Molly and refocused on the current course of action.

Percy stepped forward and made a move, somewhat surprising all others involved.

"All my life I had been so excited to finally have a little brother, but looking back, Fred would have been enough. There's absolutely nothing that you bring to this family that Fred hasn't already done cleverer or faster. George, you're a waste. What's the point in calling yourself a Weasley?"

As George recoiled in shock, Ginny immediately stepped in to take a shaking Percy's place. "What kind of man are you? You cry, and you sob, and you moan about how rough your life is. You're a stupid little girl, not a man. Real men settle down and find themselves wives, they don't lounge around in business with their brothers and cry about their feelings. What is the matter with you? Can't you show some initiative? Why does everyone else have to bend over backwards to make decisions because poor little Georgie can't make them for himself? What makes you so special?"

George began to cry, still lightly pulling at the brothers holding him prone in the chair.

"Stop it, stop it!"

Harry cracked the bones in his neck and stepped forward, kneeling to look him in the eye. "We didn't expect you to survive the war. You were a pawn. Nothing made any of us think you had any chance of surviving, and you have no idea how thankful I am that you were flying nearer to Severus Snape than I was that night. Thanks for taking that curse in my stead; I needed to live, at all costs. Who cares if you'd make it through or not? You're a Weasley, and not even one of the good ones."

A thick, black clot pressed its way through the crack in George's skin where his left ear once was, and George himself slumped in his chair, his eyes finally clearing.

"…What? Where… Fred? Hermione?"

Fred and Hermione quickly moved to kneel on either side of George, but Bill and Charlie didn't release their hold on his limbs yet.

"What's happening? Why are they holding me down? How did we get to the Burrow?"

Hermione lightly shushed him, placing a hand on his damp forehead to check his temperature. Is skin was no longer searing hot, but was instead slightly cold and clammy.

Fred pressed a kiss to his right temple and smoothed back his long hair, letting Bill and Charlie release him as he began to massage George's shoulders, undoubtedly sore from having his arms pulled behind his back for so long.

"George, that curse you were hit with the night you all polyjuiced yourself to look like Harry… there were some adverse affects that are only becoming known now. It's why you've been so temperamental and quick to anger. We were able to get to affects out, I believe, but it wasn't pleasant. Do you really not remember what happened?"

He shook his head slowly, wincing as he did. "No, I remember being at work and then I remember being here. Can I get a healing draught or a pain potion? My ear hurts."

Hermione nodded and grabbed the appropriate vials from her purse. "We had to say many things tonight, George. None of them were true, that's the thing that you have to know. I don't know if you'll ever be getting your memory of tonight back, but regardless or not you need to know that the things that we said to you tonight were purely designed to hurt you as much as possible in order to excite the remnants of the curse enough to force you to react. Keep that in mind. The things we said tonight were only to get your emotions to the level that you would react."

"What kinds of things could you have possibly said that would require that much prefacing? I don't remember you saying any of them, so what does it matter?"

Hermione shook her head and kissed his forehead. "It matter because one day you might remember," Fred said. "And on that day, I don't want you to be overcome with these memories and no idea as to why we would say such horrible, horrible things, not only about you but about those closest to you. Our biggest priority was to hurt you, George. The more hurt you were, the faster we could get the curse out of you. I don't think that any of us are proud of what we said tonight, but it was especially hard for us to say because of how much we care about you. We abused the trust you put in us and took your fears and concerns and warped them to say the most hurtful things we could think up."

George sighed low in his throat and gently turned his face into Fred's neck. "I want to go home. Can you two stay with me tonight?"

Hermione and Fred nodded after looking at each other, and Bill headed for the front door. "I'll go get mum and dad so that you three can say good-bye before you leave."

Fred helped pull George to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist, helping him stand, his whole body aching with a ferocity that he hadn't thought possible. Ginny, Charlie, Harry, Ron and Percy and came in close, hugging him in turn and whispering their apologies to him.

He pulled Hermione in to his chest, bending his head down to kiss her head but frowning and pulling back when he saw the mess that had become his shirt.

"What happened to me?"

Hermione gently shushed him and squeezed his midriff a bit tighter. "I'll explain later. Fleur, please put that handkerchief you were using to wipe his face in a jar, I want to take it with me."

The front door opened, and Molly, Arthur, and Bill all came back in. Bill quickly glanced up at George before letting his eyes fall back towards the floor.

"I'm sorry, mon frère. Please forgive me."

George shook his head. "Really, I don't remember what's happened since we've gotten here, but based on what's going on I'm not so sure that I want to."

"You don't," came several different voices at the same time.

.:.

Hermione, Fred, and George were all laying in Fred's bed under the plush quilt an hour later, George in the middle.

"Was tonight really that awful? What happened?"

"I don't feel ready to go into all of that yet, and you still need to rest. But as hard as it may have been for us, I can guarantee that any discomfort of ours paled in comparison to yours. Trust me, love, when I say that I hope you never have to regain your memory of tonight."

Long after Fred and Hermione had both fallen asleep, George lay there in the dark, wondering exactly which words his family could have spoken to leave them so apologetic. He couldn't decide which would be worse, continually living with this curiosity or actually knowing. Perhaps in the morning he'd ask Hermione or Fred to share with him via a pensieve.

But on second thought, perhaps not.