The parselmagic ripped over the entire workshop. For a moment, the air turned dark, then all concealments were washed away. Ron took a deep breath when taking in his brothers. Fred's lips were bitten raw, and George had laced his fingers so tightly that his knuckles were turning white to suppress nervous tremors. The skin on their hands appeared translucent, and Ron felt like he could see every individual vein. The shirts they wore had once been on the tighter side, emphasising their figure. Now their little brother could count their ribs. They looked nearly as bad as Harry had after his second rescue from the Dursleys. Harry took in the rows and rows of half-open boxes with products and scattered ingredients. The worktop was uneven and covered in burns and scars from failed experiments. It appeared as if the twins were working 24/7 with no reprieve. Most interesting, he found the corner of the workshop where a queen-sized bed and a small kitchenette was hosted. The furniture was sturdy but poor.