Full name: Fred Gideon Weasley
Date of birth: 01 April 1978
Wand: 13 inches, Cedar, Dragon Heartstring
Affiliation: Self. Fred is currently working for Death Eaters, but he isn't affiliated with them so much as they're the ones pulling his strings.
Home Life Edit
Mother: Molly Weasley
Father: Arthur Weasley
Other family: Though the Weasleys are estranged from, they are technically related to many pure-blood families, such as the Malfoys and Blacks.
Relationships with each: Fred hasn't spoken to a single member of his family for four years, and hasn't remembered them for two. Before that he was extremely loyal to his family, most of all to George - to the point that this sort of separation would have seemed impossible to him until it actually happened.
Home: Fred has been put in a flat in Muggle South London, in the middle of a slum. It's a small place with water stains on the walls and very little aside from work supplies. Fred works out of his flat, inventing and recreating whatever is asked of him. There are wards up to conceal his work from the neighbouring Muggles, but he's in the slums because it's doubted even if he is heard any of the locals would ever call the authorities. He is under strict orders not to leave his home for anything but the floo trip to Knockturn, to the premises of his old shop where he contacts his employers.
Finances: Fred's got a vault in Gringott's that he's forgotten about. He is 'paid' for his work mostly by room and board, but he's given some Muggle money in case he needs anything.
Personal Life Edit
Personality: Fred Weasley is an April Fool's child, just like his twin. Mischievous, excitable, creative, intense. He can come up with a thousand ideas a minute, and he always had George there to figure out how to make those ideas reality. Fred more than George had a wicked side to his nature, and it was him who would goad his brother into hexing Percy, or turning Ron's bear into a spider, or allowing some wide-eyed firstie to swallow experimental potions. Fred has a very bad sense of morality - he simply doesn't realize when he's gone too far. George is usually good at reeling him in, though.
Fred isn't malevolent, of course. He isn't a bad person, but he doesn't have a whole lot of integrity. He sees nothing wrong with cheating or lying. He feels little guilt if one of his creations harms someone else. Everyone's responsible for their own lives. He won't take on guilt when he feels he doesn't deserve it.
But he is very much loyal to his family. Even on his own in Knockturn, before becoming a virtual prisoner, if word had come to him that any one of his large family was in danger he would have swallowed any pride he had left and charged in to help. His closeness with George and the strength of his loyalty are the firing pins that will see the obliviations fogging his mind blown away.
Marital status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual. Fred in his prime would flirt with anyone who was pretty enough, no matter what equipment they were packing. It's been a while since he's been himself enough to indulge, though.
Strengths: Fred is absolutely a whiz at thinking up mad ideas. His mind is bent towards seeing problems from strange angles, and he could always list a hundred possible projects for the shop. He can see things in a different way than anyone he knows. He is fearless and would (and has done) take on a room full of Death Eaters. He didn't beat them, of course, but he didn't hesitate jumping into the fray. Though his moral edges are frayed, when he gives his word he keeps it. He's a very accomplished liar.
Weaknesses: He simply doesn't think things through. His temper burns hot and then burns out, but while he's in a rage he does things that he regrets later. It's his stubborn anger that led him to walk out on George, though George is the one person who was always supposed to be there. He sees all sides of a matter, good and bad, but that means he has a difficult time taking a firm stand on anything.
Boggart: Formerly inferi. Currently a very alive robed wizard with wand held out to fire another obliviation hex.
Mirror of Erised: He and George laughing together with their family close behind.
Amortentia Potion: The sweet steam of the temporary transfiguration potion used in Canary Cremes, broom polishing oil, his mum's scones
Appearance: Fred is the shorter and broader variety of Weasley male. Like all Weasleys his skin is pale and freckled, his hair fiery red. He is fairly diminished lately, thinned out by the pain of his stirring memory, the drain of the obliviations, and the fact that he can very easily forget he needs to eat. He's got various scars from inventions gone bad, or old childhood accidents. He's been subjected to so many hexes in the last few years that he's aquired a very faint tremor, usually only noticeable if he's tired.
Style of dress: When he's in his right mind he draws attention to himself in every way possible - bright colors, obnoxious fabrics, and struts with chest out and chin high. At the present he is more wilted, wearing only the robes he works in, casual Muggle jeans and t-shirts underneath.
Fred was conceived with his twin, George, and as a precursor to the rest of their lives it was Fred who clawed his way to freedom first, forever leaving George to catch up. Well, not really, but Fred likes to think of it that way to keep George from bragging about being the young one. As children Fred and George were holy terrors, bursting with energy, sparkling with humour and creativity. There was never a moment so dull they couldn't spice it up. Never a sibling safe. They had a hell of a lot of fun, especially when it was least appropriate, and when time came to enrol them in school it was simply a change of scenery and a bigger audience for them to perform for.
They did like learning things, of course, and though they could never be bothered with exams and essays and the like, they took lessons and practical tests seriously. If they hadn't learned potions they never would have perfected the temporary transfiguration draught that went into the Canary Cremes. Same with charms and transfigurations. Every class was good for their projects, and what wasn't any use they didn't pay attention to.
Still, it was a drain on their time, and Fred and George got thinking even their fifth year about going their own way, getting their joke shop off the ground. They started a little mail order business that did quite well among students, and suddenly scrawny runt Harry shows up shoving galleons at them, practically begging them to skiv off and find a premises. To seal the deal in their seventh year, along came the ultimate repressive authority figure. Pushing Dumbledore's mad arse out and filling the school with rules, of all things. George and Fred decided it was high time to feign seriousness and tackle the war in their own unique and highly brilliant way. The ultimate authority figure deserved the ultimate rebellion, after all, and who could manage that better than the Weasley twins?
Success followed, inevitably. Their escape from the grasping claw of education was sure to become infamous, and their brand new shop in Diagon Alley was a roaring success. They were suddenly making loads of money, coming up with brilliant ideas once a day, and eventually even their mum stopped crying. But the tension the twins so carefully ignored reared its head and tossed them right into war. Suddenly their harmless little wheezes were showing up on the field of battle. Death Eaters using vanishing powder, etc.
George was horrified by the idea, but Fred was enthralled. Their joke shop didn't have to be such a joke at all. And if both sides were using their wares, all the better. It just made things more fair, didn't it? But George was adamant, and the twins found themselves in their first real, serious row. Fred accused his brother of limiting what they could do, just as everyone else in their lives always tried to limit them. He wanted his work to mean something. He loved the idea of being important, being more than just the goofy Weasley mascots. When George refused to back down, Fred packed his things in a huff and left.
It was, for the first few minutes, a sincere retreat. Within a few days, he was wondering why George hadn't called his bluff. Still, though he expected an owl at any time telling him to come home, Fred was nothing if not determined. He had more than enough money to get himself a little shop front of his own, and the darker side of him sent him to Knockturn. He opened a store he rather blatantly called Shades of Grey, and was validated when his business did almost as well as WWW had first done. There were kids in Knockturn, after all. Even Dark wizards had families and liked to laugh. And if shady figures purchased more than casual amounts of darkness powder or battering boomerangs, Fred didn't see where it was his business to pry.
He never stopped waiting for George's owl to show up, and each passing day showed him more bitter as it seemed obvious his family had written him off. Just as he was beginning to debate sucking up his pride and venturing back to Number 93, a wizard arrived on his doorstep. This wizard had an offer for him - work for him and his lot, make what they asked him to make, and rake in more galleons than he'd see in a decade of playing shopkeep.
Fred was always reckless, always spur-of-the-moment, and he said sure without much consideration. And with that verbal agreement, life suddenly changed. Working for these people - Death Eaters, of course, he wasn't entirely stupid - meant more than nine-to-five. He was moved to a dark little room further inside Knockturn, and never knew what came of his shop or his own little flat. He was threatened, warded in, and the demands for tricks and traps and supplies started rolling in. Now Fred was on his own without a twin to back him up, but he was still the same rebellious person he always had been. He chafed very fast under this new life. When he contacted his employers and told them he'd made a mistake, they simply laughed. He couldn't leave, he was told, because outside of Knockturn Alley he was a dead man. Fred had no idea how literal they were being until a copy of the Prophet, announcing his death and months old, came into his hands inside a crate of supplies.
Fred quit. He railed and hexed and destroyed his little haven until they were forced to come to him and answer his accusations. He demanded to be released, and so he was. In a sense. There had been plans in the running for some time to begin a slave trade, shipping troublesome wizards off to Muggle lands with minds wiped and memories replaced. Fred had made himself troublesome. But he was too much use to them to simply be got rid of. There would be no shipping off their most prolific supplier. Instead they brought in the DEs who were perfecting their obliviation techniques, and Fred was subjected to selective obliviation.
How long ago that was he doesn't know. He's not very aware of time. His past is hidden from him. What he retains is the ability to invent and bring to life, and that's what he does day in and day out. He was sent to a Muggle area to keep him from bumping into anyone who might stir something in his mind. He works and eats and sleeps and doesn't remember what it's like to want anything else.
But selective obliviation is a sloppy, slippery thing. There are simply too many senses attached to memories, too many interwoven threads. Leaving Fred his wheezes meant risking that any one of them might remind him too strongly of George and might overwhelm the spell. And Fred has had one good hard knock recently to get his mind sluggishly firing back into motion - a careless Death Eater in Knockturn, a copy of the latest Prophet, and the announcement that someone named George Weasley was found dead. Fred didn't realize the mistake the paper made - George had been asking too many questions, even years later, about Fred's disappearance, and the body found was a stranger, made (with one of Fred's own inventions) to look like Fred in hopes his case would be closed for good. It was the Prophet's error claiming it was George.
The amused Death Eater was silenced and the paper removed, but the name, and the picture on the cover, knocked him back. He's returning, hour by hour, piecing together exactly how wrong his life has become. The spells over him are deep, and remembering hurts, but now that Fred knows things aren't right he's fighting the fog and suffering the pain.
Current Activities Edit
Remembering who he is and fighting against his obliviation.
PB: Paul Scholes