How Did Fred Weasley Die

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest friends teasing her. "Emmy, how much longer are you planning to keep up this fake-death act?" A familiar voice answered, one I could never mistake, that was tinged with indulgence and amusement. "As soon as Corbin Ellery's heart condition is cured. Back then, if Grayson hadn't insisted on sending the butler to the destruction plant, Corbin wouldn't have needed to pretend his system malfunctioned. And I wouldn't have had to fake my death to help him disappear completely." Another friend clicked her tongue. "Still, nobody expected you to go this far. Having Corbin wear a custom synthetic skin suit and pose as a robot butler right under your husband's nose all those years? That's insane." Fake death? Corbin? The blood drained from my face. The woman I had mourned for five years was alive. And the robot that had stirred her desire had never been a robot at all. It was my closest friend. A passing server accidentally slammed into me, sending a tray crashing to the floor. The conversation inside stopped instantly. Emmy turned toward the doorway, and our eyes met.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

After chasing my crush, Edward Lightwood, for ten years, he finally accepted me as his blood bound. But, the day we were taking our eternal vow, his first love, Beth, from the allied clan was murdered by a gang of vampire hunters. He blamed me for her loss and tormented me every day. Exposed me to the eternal sun, pierced me with wooden stakes just not enough to kill me and then locked me up in his basement. Exhausted and heartbroken, I grabbed the oak stake and stabbed my chest in front of him. I killed myself. But, I did not die. I was reborn to the day I had confessed my feelings to Edward. But, this time, I'll not repeat my mistake. I'll stay far away from him.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

On the day I was awarded the highest honor in the vampire world—the Order of the Night—I died. Three hours after my death,my parents, my brother, and my Consort had just finished celebrating my sister’s Nightfall Commencement. While my sister Olivia was posting warm, smiling family photos on the vampire social network,I was locked in the basement,dragging my tongue across my phone screen,desperately trying to make a call for help. The only person who answered was my Consort—Julian. He said only one thing: “Bella, stop acting. Olivia’s Nightfall Commencement is important. Stop throwing a tantrum.” That was the ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me.And the last. I lay in a pool of blood so dark it was nearly black,my breathing fading into nothing. They thought I was just sulking somewhere,hiding as usual. They believed that if they taught me a lesson,I would crawl back obediently, like I always did. But they didn’t know. I had never left the house. I was already dead.

The night before my wedding, my mom got into a car accident—she needed a blood transfusion, fast. Her blood type was rare. Mine matched. I was pregnant, but I didn't think twice. I donated. While I was bleeding out, losing my baby, my fiancé, Joffrey Habsburg, and his brother—my so-called childhood friend—Mateo, were busy holding Nancy's hand during her cosmetic surgery. I begged Joffrey to save my mom. Only then did he bother to pick up a scalpel. When it was over, he said, "Surgery failed. She's gone." Two days later, I overheard Nancy purring through the door, wrapped around the Habsburg brothers. "Mateo really is a racer—he hit that old hag dead on. And Joffrey? You were amazing too, making sure she didn't survive the surgery. Thanks to you both, I got Lori's blood for my operation."