For the first time since Harry had known him, Fred seemed to be lost for words.

Fred knew something had gone terribly wrong the moment they started off the journey. Call it a gut feeling, but he had never been so anxious about something. Moody's plan seemed foolproof— there was no way they could be in imminent danger. Yet when the first death eater struck, he had his wand out without a moment's hesitation. His hand shook as he tried to hold on to his father and casted every single hex he knew at the attackers. The confusion only grew when all of them flew away unexpectedly, the pit in his stomach hollowing further.

His brain reminded him of all the faces he saw at the Dursely's residence. Somehow it felt like the worst wasn't over. He couldn't register everything that happened as he grabbed the portkey to home, the air around him felt too loud. Lupin was the first person he saw before he heard his mother cry and engulf his father in a tight hug. It was as if things stopped as he realised his twin was the one bleeding on the couch.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" his mum whispered.

George's fingers groped for the side of his head.

"Saintlike," he murmured.

Throat too thick, Fred could only mutter, "What's wrong with him? Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," his brother repeated, opening his eyes and looking up at him. "You see... I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"

Fred didn't want to cry, he didn't. Yet his eyes watered anyway. He knew what George was doing, he couldn't spoil it. Not when he was hurt so badly, not when he knew his mum would break apart if he did just that.

"Pathetic," he told George, forcing on a smirk. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"

The grin he got in return seemed to be worth it, he hugged George as soon as their mum left.