Okkkkk.... My second FF on here, Chapter 1.
This is a post-DH fic about George, making a deal with Death, only to realise what a mistake he has made.
I try to stick to canon as much as possible, and there is no romance at all in this fic (planned, anyway) so If you're looking for a Romance fic, Bye-bye
But please, please, please read and comment, you really don't know how much I appreciate comments.
This FF was going to go on Fanfiction.net, but I chose here instead, thinking I may get more readers. But, if there's not much sucess on here I may put it on there too and if it gets more popular on there, only continue it on there (though I will give you a link)
Well done if that made any sense at all to you
And sorry for my mini-essay.
Please review
I just realised how short this actually is, but i'll be writing lots more very soon. This is only a mini-taster

To Deal with Death

All my nightmares escaped my head,
Bar the door,
Please don’t let them in,
You were never supposed to leave:
Now my heads splitting at the seams and I don’t know If I can
~Welcome home – Radical Face~
The golden sun sank mockingly over the little village, the garden of The Burrow full to the brim with people.

It was the day of Fred Weasley’s funeral.

George was scrumpled in a ball on the bed that had once been his twin’s, face in the pillow. He couldn’t bear to see his family and friends all dressed in black, mourning over Fred whilst bunches of white lilies surrounded the little garden. Fred hated flowers, and never, ever, wanted to wear black robes that so resembled his uniform again. The Weasleys all knew this, deep down, but none of them could bring themselves to say it. All of the family, except George, were talking to the people Fred had known so well, trying to comfort each other.

Comfort wasn’t really going to help George. His heart had been torn in two, and there was no way of mending it...

Unless...

But that was impossible. No time-turners, no resurrection stone, no polyjuice potion. Fred wasn’t coming back, and he was going to have to live with that fact.

Rolling over, he looked up at the explosion-stained ceiling. George hadn’t slept for over two hours each night the week after Fred’s death. He lay in bed, memories haunting him.

Every one, every single one had Fred in. And now his family were already trying to get him to move on. Not at all likely. He needed to get away, not just from the room he had shut himself in for a week solid, from his head, the memories, his tired, thinning body with bloodshot eyes and grey bags underneath.

He was going away.

It was a stupid idea. George had only managed to eat something each day after a family member would refuse to leave the room until he did. But then stupid ideas didn’t really matter anymore. Nothing worse could happen.
Slowly, George got off the bed. The room was darkening rapidly as the sun set and he needed to be out before the family noticed he had gone. He wasn’t going away for a long time, just long enough to clear his mind slightly, and get away from the increasingly irritating words of comfort from everyone.
His wand, some clothes and a sleeping bag; that was all he needed. Shoving them hastily into a backpack, George looked out the little window by his bed.

The ceremony had finished long ago, but the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Verity remained, half-heartedly clearing away the empty mugs.

Thankfully, the Weasleys had still not fixed the apparation blocking charm that had been broken when Death Eaters raided the house, enabling anyone to apparate freely into the house, not that it really mattered anymore. Evil had been destroyed, meaning it was just the start of the nightmares for George.

The view of his family made George remember something. Hastily he took out a quill and scribbled:
Everyone,
I’m going away for a few days. I need some – well – space. Don’t bother worrying about me. I’ll be fine, probably.
George

Swinging the backpack over one shoulder, George took a last look out the window at his family and dropped the note on his bed. He would see them soon.
Closing his eyes and spinning on the spot, George disappeared from the room with a small Crack.

Little did he know he may never see his family again...

Great first chapter! Hello and Welcome to the Other Stories section! Be sure to read the rules, post often and most importantly have fun!

ABBI! EVIL! I ANGRY WITH YOU NOW! I'M CRYING!

G-g-great p-post... *sniff*

Yes. I have already written chapter two. Already. Over fanfiction and science homework, we'd all chose fanfiction. And I was bored. I'm not promising i'll always update this quickly. I've only got about one reader (thanks Kira ) but I'll keep writing
(I forgot to put this last time ) but all characters belong to JK Rowling, except the girl. She's mine And I based her on a younger version of Morgana from BBC's Merlin
Hope you like...

George appeared with an identical crack, standing on a bed of leaves in a forest. He had intended to apparate into somewhere quiet, so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, and the forest on the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole was the first place to come to mind.

The sky was a pale blue now, like watery ink, and George, tentless, was going to have to spend the night outside. He hadn’t thought about that too well, but at least he had a sleeping bag. And whatever the floor was made of wasn’t really going to change the restlessness that was sleep. He walked through the leaves for a minute or two, sighing.
Going away wasn’t really going to change anything in the long term. Nothing would. But the fresh breeze cleared George’s head a bit and he started to realise quite how much energy he had lost on two hours sleep a night.

Finding the softest part of the forest floor he could, he pulled out his sleeping bag and wrapped himself in it. He had once been for a walk in this forest with Fred. Molly had taken their Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes product lists and burnt them all in the fire. Both of the twins had started yelling at her, and before she could yell back at them any longer, Fred and George had run out of the house and into to the forest, walking silently whilst scowling at every tree, plant and creature. But that was never going to happen again, and just the memories caused George’s head to ache. Checking he really was deserted, George lay down, his head resting on his rucksack as his bloodshot eyes drooped in the darkness.

George’s sleep, as always, was restless. Every leaf crunch made him panicky. So Voldemort had been destroyed, but there could still be death eaters in the shadows, and a man who hadn’t eaten or slept properly for days wasn’t at all hard to attack. Several times in the night he awoke, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. And he could always remember the dreams. When they weren’t haunting memories, they were horrible, sick dreams. Bellatrix crucio-ing Fred, Fred screaming for mercy, and the final two words and a flash of green light. Several times, George had assumed he had woken up screaming, for Ginny would come running in, holding back tears as she helped her wreck of a brother off the bedroom floor onto which he had fallen and back into bed. But no-one could hear screams in a forest at the dead of night and Mrs Weasley wouldn’t be there to secretly slip him a sleeping potion in a glass of water. He was going to have to get through this night. And many, many more.
Golden light streamed onto George’s pale face; It was dawn. Birds sang as George, finally asleep, shifted uncomfortably on the forest floor. Opposite him, a girl sat on a stump, staring at the man with her cold, green eyes.
He blinked, the light and birdsong finally waking him. Sitting up, George noticed the girl. She was sitting on a tree stump that George had not noticed in the dark of the previous night, and looked quite calm, as though teenage girls often stared at people sleeping.
‘So you’re here?’ she said, in a clear, slightly interested voice as she looked from George’s bed-hair to his rucksack on the ground. ‘I’ve been waiting for you, George Weasley.’

She knew his name.
She must be a witch; no-one in the muggle world knew his name. And she had a wand. That was often a bit of a giveaway.

George’s heart sped up a little as he looked uneasily at the girl. She was young, no older than fifteen. Her dark hair fell down her back with ease and something about her face, her piercing green eyes, made her look not quite human. George sat up a little straighter. Now was not the time to speak to some freaky kid.
‘Listen, I’ve got to go,’ George said, noticing how hoarse his voice sounded; he had not spoken all week.
‘Really?’ She raised a dark eyebrow, studying George. ‘I’d thought you’d have wanted to see me. I’ve been looking for you.’
He stared. Freaky kid just got freakier.
‘Uh, really, I have to be, uh, somewhere,’ George lied.
She laughed. A cold, icy laugh that made him shiver.
‘No. Stay,’ she said, half commanding, half menacing, and George could have sworn he felt himself being pushed down.
So freaky girl needed to tell him something. George stared at her. He didn’t really have the energy to run if she tried to hurt him, and he didn’t curse teenage girls, however evil they seemed. Heart racing, he looked down. He was a beater once. And she was about fourteen. He could surely defend himself. She was hardly a death eater, although her cold manner made him feel as though not to underestimate her power.
‘What do you want from me then?’ he asked finally.
She looked at him for a few seconds.
‘I think you want something from me George. Something you lost. Something I can bring back.’
Something inside him snapped. Fred? Did she mean Fred?
As though she had read his mind, or maybe only his eyes, she nodded.
‘How?’ George asked, fear and excitement rising inside him. He didn’t stop to think. She was a teenage girl. Not even fully trained, and nothing could bring Fred back, yet something about her made him think different.
She played with her hair for a second.
‘A swap,’ she said, looking him in the eye.
‘What? What do you want?’ George asked, excitement building.
‘Something loved.’ She replied, her eyes cold. George sighed. There was always a catch, but he didn’t even need to think for a second to realise she was losing out on this deal. Fred was way more important than anything else in George’s life. She was bound to take the shop, but that didn’t matter if he got Fred back.
‘Yeah,’ George said, eyes lighting up. ‘When can I swap?’
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ she asked, her pale face still free of emotion.
George nodded. He was going to see Fred again. To hear his voice. To hear his laugh, and to laugh with him, free of the weight that he never thought would leave.
‘Well if you’re sure,’ she said, and George missed the cold smirk on her face.
With a swish of her hair, the girl disappeared into a dark part of the forest, leaving George to wait. A single tear fell from his eyes. Fred was coming back.
Fred was coming back.
Realisation had only just started to dawn on George. He was getting back the life he thought he’d lost forever.

A few moments later, the girl had returned from the forest, now wearing a long, green cloak that swept the leaves beneath her. George was too excited to notice her smirk was even bigger.
‘Well?’ he said, looking over her shoulder as if Fred would suddenly appear.
She laughed again. ‘Tonight. At midnight. He will return, and your swap will leave the Earth. Forever.’
She pulled her cloak over her head and disapparated, but this time, even George couldn’t miss the cold, harsh laugh as her green eyes met his brown.

............. That's me being speechless. A first

THAT WAS AN AMAZING CHAPTER! I'M SHAKING! That girl psycho is scary! I see what you mean when you told me! *shivers*

I'm quite angry now Abbi. I know what's gonna happen! NO SURPRISES FOR ME! *cackles madly* ... I didn't just cackle... I'm not evil...

PAMS!

Oh know...George what did you do?! I mean, I'm so upset here that Fred died, but he's dead and now he's probably going to have someone else dissapear so Fred could come back...Oh no..I'm scared..

BTW I'm a new reader if you hadn't guessed, and I love it!

PAMS

Signed,
Abby

That was a great update! Thanks!

Ooooooooooooh I love it

Chapter 3
Which I wrote a while ago and completly forgot about....
But that's me
It's kinda cheesy, but I have to write this scene. And George had a right to go running through a forest. He's HAPPY
Thank-you everyone who's reviewed. It makes me Haaaaappy and If you're a reader and you don't review, please do, even if you're doing it to tell me it's cheesy.
I hate posting my writing, I'm really self-concious about it... but sometimes I just have to, to try and become better.
So yeah...
Virtual brownies to anyone who reviews/reviewed

Nothing, nothing in the world, could compare to the feeling George had now. He was getting Fred back, he was getting EVERYTHING back, and however tired and ill he felt didn’t matter now. He needed to plan. For one, he didn’t even know where Fred would be at midnight, and obviously the minute he arrived he was going to look for George. Then George could go back the The Burrow with him and they could be family again. Proper family.

It was then George realised he was going to have to wait in the forest all day. Fred was going to be a surprise, and if the Weasleys saw George, they would know something had happened. Mourning men don’t suddenly go ecstatic, unless they make a deal with death....

All the energy he had lost seemed to come back to him in a rush of seconds, and there was nothing except sanity to stop George from jumping around like a six-year old, and he didn’t have much of that. It was an empty forest, the weird girl had disapparated, and right now there was nothing in front of him except the sun streaming through the trees...

Why not?

A little unsteady on his feet, after shutting himself in a room for what seemed like forever, George put a foot forward, breaking into a sprint. He was fast, Fred and him had always been. Wind in his face, George tore through the forest, sending wildlife fleeing as he anticipated the thought of getting his twin back.

After a long while of running, jumping and shrieking as though he was six again, George collapsed onto the leaves. He would never have done that; Fred would have teased him to extremes, but he wouldn’t now. And he wasn’t going to let embarrassment spoil his happiness.
The hours dragged by, as they always did when George was excited. It was weird, time only slowed down when he was waiting, or when he was stuck in a detention cleaning out frog guts for Snape. But this waiting wasn’t going to end with a lecture on his behaviour, and Fred and him would not be returning to the Gryffindor common room with a pile of last minute homework ahead of them.

After what seemed like weeks or waiting, and making bubbles with his wand to pass the time, George looked up. The sky had finally decided to darken, and looking at the watch that he had recieved for his seventeenth birthday, the twin was told that there would only be three and a half long hours until Fred arrived. Jumping to his feet, George swung his bag over his shoulder, perhaps he could steal some stuff from the shop before that disappeared.

‘Crack.’

George was standing in the luckily, almost deserted pub. Tom was out the back getting a drink for the only customer who sat at the bar with their back to him. Treading carefully, as not to attract any attention, he walked to the back door of the dimly lit pub and slipped out the door, shutting it before the lone customer could get a look of him.

After living in Diagon Alley for over a year, George tapped the bricks on the wall absently, his mind on far more important things. As the bricks spread apart, he looked down the street, it had changed so much since Fred and George had abandoned it and fled from the shop one evening. The shops and flats above them were halfway between destruction and repair, some abandoned for good and others already open and thriving, but Diagon Alley had still not gained the magical atmosphere back.

Legs moving faster, George hurried down the somewhat busy street, not stopping to look or talk, just wanting to speed time up a little.
‘Hah!’ he smirked, triumphant; Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was still standing, and the glass still in one piece. The twins’ charms had obviously been too complex for those death eaters, and although the posters looked a little faded and old, there was a fair chance the inside of the shop still stood strong too.

Unlocking the door with a spell only he and Fred had know, George walked carefully into the shop. He had been right; it was dusty and smelt funny, but the posters, the products and the displays were almost untouched. The flat was another matter, but who cared? The shop was going to disappear within hours, and who needed paperwork anyway? Taking his bag off his shoulder again, George walked over to the nearest display and started shoving products in. He was not losing those, even if the shop was going. Actually, thinking of it, George decided he was going to need some clothes, and they could easily disappear. His feet strode up the familiar wooden steps right to the top of the shop, where from a small balcony, one could see everything going on. The door to the flat was hanging on one hinge. That was not the best of signs.

Paper.

A lot of paper.

So the Death Eaters thought that the twins would have their hiding place written on a sheet of paper and shoved in with order forms and price lists. Were they idiots? It was weird, they had searched the little flat so thoroughly yet not touched the products. Perhaps they had given up, finally realising that the Weasley twins were not stupid. The room was a sea of paper and as George walked through into the room that he and Fred had slept in, he noticed that several papers had been torn in anger. Half smirking, he threw open the wardrobe doors, grabbing anything that had any value to the twins.

A few minutes later, bag full of clothes, photos and plans for pranks George was retracing his steps back down the stairs, he didn’t want to disappear with the shop, and it was getting seriously close to midnight.

Any minute now.... Thought George, looking down at his watch.
‘Three,’
George sighed happily, letting go of the past week
‘Two,’
He snapped his eyes shut..
‘One.....’

There was a loud crack, quite like as though someone had apparated in his midst.
Slowly, George opened one eye.
Fred wasn’t standing there, and the shop looked perfectly real.
His stomach couldn’t have sunk any lower...
Resisting letting out a cry of despair, George closed his eyes and spun. Maybe, maybe Fred was at The Burrow, after all that was home....

‘Crack,’

The man swallowed and took a big breath.

This was it.

Slowly opening one eye again, he looked through the darkness towards the garden of The Burrow. Eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he noticed a figure standing at the gate...

A tall, ginger figure.

One identical to George.

He had never run faster. Heart skipping one thousand beats, George practically flew to his twin, who was standing, arms wide open, waiting with a grin on his face and tears rolling down his freckled cheeks.

‘Fred. Fred. Fred.’ George sobbed, clinging to his twin like a child, sobbing into his hair whilst trying to look at every inch of the man he had once thought dead.

‘Whoa,’ Fred grinned, wiping a tear from his own cheek as his twin clinged to him, still refusing to let go.’

‘Never, never, ever do that again Fred,’ George stammered, shaking onto Fred’s shoulder.

‘I won’t,’ Fred said, smiling at George’s tears of happiness. ‘I promise.’

*sniff* *sniff sniff* I'M CRYING AT THE END BIT! WHY? IT'S SO HAPPY, WHY AM I CRYING? Oh, yeah, 'cause you TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENS!

Great chapter Georgie!

*noms virtual brownie*

Fred
xxxx

Another chapter
Thanks for the review Kira/Fred (you know who you are)
So it's short
Yes, I like keeping people in suspense. Deal with it

Chapter 4.....

The two identical figures walked up to the house in the darkness, arms around each other. George was still shaking, tears leaking from his eyes. Reaching the house, Fred pushed the back door open and the twins slipped in. The house was dark and quiet, it’s inhabitants in bed.
‘C’mon,’ Fred grinned, making his way to the rickety wooden stairs. His twin hesitated, wanting to keep Fred to himself a little longer, they were twins after all. But seeing his eager face, he gave up and followed, not worrying about the large amount of noise they were causing.
‘Heck, Mum’s gonna be a wreck,’ Fred sighed as he rapped on the door.
George snorted, chuckling a little as he tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.
‘Where is she?’ he asked, pushing the door open. Their mother usually woke at the quietest sound...
‘I’m going in,’ said Fred impatiently, lighting his wand and walking into the dark room, floorboards creaking.
‘George?’
‘Mhm,’ came a quiet reply from right behind, George had followed Fred in.
‘Where’s Mum and Dad?’
Both twins pointed their wands at their parents bed. The covers were crumpled, and the pillows even felt slightly warm, but Molly and Arthur were not in the room.
‘This is weird, I don’t like this,’ Fred said uneasily, returning from his check of the bathroom. ‘They don’t just go out in the middle of the night...’
‘Let's wake Ginny. Or Ron, or Percy,’ George suggested, looking round in the darkness as though expecting them to appear.
‘Okay,’ Fred whispered and not bothering to keep quiet anymore, yelled through the house. ‘RON? GINNY? PERCE? GET DOWN HERE....’
But the shouts echoed emptily through the house.
Running up and down the stairs, the twins checked each bedroom in turn, only to find them in the same state as their parents’.
‘What’s going on?’ Fred whispered, his eyes wide and face white. ‘People don’t just disappear...’
Realisation fell like a ton of bricks in George’s stomach as he looked at his twin, not meeting his eyes.
‘What?’ said Fred, seeing his expression. ‘George, what do you know?’
His voice was soft, yet suspicious as he looked at his twin.
‘Well...,’ George began, staring at his feet. ‘Fred... this was an accident... but... well,’
‘What?’ Fred said, now more harsh, impatient even.
‘To get you... I uh... had to kinda do a swap....’
Something in Fred Weasley’s mind clicked.
‘WHAT?’ he yelled, having to restrain himself from hitting George. ‘YOU SWAPPED THE ENTIRE FAMILY. FOR ME?’
George gulped, looking at the floor as new tears formed in his eyes. How could he be so stupid?
‘YOU IDIOT, GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY, YOU SELFISH PIG,’
‘I... I didn’t mean it,’ he tried to reply.
‘YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. AND YOU JUST KILLED SEVEN PEOPLE TO GET ME BACK. IT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THAT,’ Fred continued to yell, glaring at his twin.
‘No, Fred, it’s not like that, it was an accident...’ George trailed off.
Fred raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I’ll be in my room.’ He said coldly. ‘If you can manage without me...’ and he walked into the twins’ room, slamming the door behind him.

George dissolved into tears. It was an accident. He’d been stupid, so stupid, and now he had no family except a twin who’d locked himself in his bedroom. Shaking, he slumped against the door hugging his knees like a child. Fred was most defintly on the other side doing the same, except fuming with anger, or throwing things, but the silence except for his own stifled sobs gave him the impression Fred was doing the first.

Not even trying to communicate with Fred when he was this angry, George stayed slumped against the door as the hours snailed by. Maybe he could talk to his twin once he had calmed down. It was scary seeing Fred so angry, George couldn’t help but hate it when Fred yelled at other people, but when the anger was directed at him, it was a thousand times worse. What made it harder was the fact he could see Fred’s reason; he had been an idiot, and in Fred’s words, a selfish pig. How on Earth had he not realised that he was going to give up his entire family for his twin?

AWWWWW! GEORGIE! Freddie!

NAUGHTY BOY! We know you didn't mean it, Georgie, don't beat yourself up!

Great chapter, Georgie!

Freddie

P.S. Now I'm thinking about Pigfarts. You can't just GO to Pigfarts! It's ON MARS!

C'est le new chapter
AGGHHHH. Must. Stop. Being. French.
Anyway.....
This is for you Kira
Because you're about the only reader on here that I know of, and you're an awesome friend

Around six in the morning, George, half asleep, tousle haired and red eyed from crying, knocked quietly on the door.
‘Fred,’ he started, ‘Fred, please listen to me. You were right. I’m an idiot, but it was an accident, I swear...’
He knew Fred was in there, awake and listening, but no response came. But that’s what he expected; the ignoring treatment. Fred had done it to Angelina for ages after splitting up with her, refusing to listen to her apologies. This too could go on for weeks. Forever. The family wasn’t coming back, and Fred was staying. What if he never forgave George?

Sick at the thought he picked himself up and made his way downstairs, the morning light now filling each room in turn. The kitchen seemed wrong so desolate. There was no Molly frying eggs, no Arthur rushing to work, no Ron to run the family clean out of food. Looking sadly around the room he pulled a mug out of the cupboard and started to make a cup of tea for Fred. He knew Fred wouldn’t drink it, but Fred would be even more angry, if that was possible, knowing George hadn’t even bothered to think of him anymore.

A sharp tap at the door caused George to jump, spilling milk over the worktop.

‘What?’ he asked opening the door a little too fast to find an angry, equally startled Fleur.
‘I would like to know wheere my ’usband eez,’
Damn. Not just Fred, but now Fleur, who would obviously be followed by Harry and Hermione. How the heck d’you explain to someone that you swapped their husband for your twin. He hadn’t thought of that.
‘The idiot did a swap, me for the whole family,’ came Fred’s voice before George had a chance to make some excuse.
‘Fred!’ Fleur screamed, shrieking and pointing at him. ‘C’est impossible, you are, you are dead.’
‘Not anymore,’ said Fred darkly, still glaring at George.
‘But ‘ow, and wheeere is William?’ She replied, gaping from twin to twin.
Fred looked at Fleur and nodded at George..
‘NO!’ she screamed ‘’OW DARE YOU,’ she advanced on George, ‘YOU ‘AVE KILLED MY ‘USBAND,’ and furious tears flying from her eyes, she aimed a slap right at George’s face,attempting to punch every inch of him. He would have backed off, fought back even, but he deserved this. He had not only killed the family, but Fleur’s husband, Harry’s girlfriend and Hermione’s boyfriend. But before Fleur could hurt him any further, Fred’s hands gripped on George’s shoulders and pulled him away from the woman’s reach.
‘He might be a selfish idiot,’ he snarled at Fleur, ‘but it was an accident, he wasn’t thinking. And you DO NOT slap my twin,’
‘FINE,’ Fleur screeched, slamming the door and storming down the path, apparating once she reached the gate.
‘Fred?’ George asked tentatively, rubbing his red cheek; that woman could hit hard.
‘Yeah,’ Fred replied finally, pulling a book off a shelf.
‘I’m sorry,’ George sighed, his head hung.
‘ ’s ok, ’ Fred replied, looking sadly at his brother. ‘I would have done the same if I hadn’t been thinking either.’
‘What, you believe me?’ George replied, stunned.
‘Yes,’ Fred said, opening the book and sitting at the table opposite George. ‘You wouldn’t lie to me George, and I’d know anyway, we’re twins. Remember?’
A tear fell from George’s eye onto his swollen cheek. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered.
Fred smiled, flicking through the book. ‘The whole of magical injuries, yet there’s nothing in here on being slapped by a veela... Stupid really, ’cause that must really hurt.’
Dropping the book on the floor, Fred opened the cupboards in turn, before finding a small bottle which he opened and poured onto George’s face to ease the stinging.
The twins sat in silence, drinking tea. George stared at Fred. In the last 24 hours he had jumped from so many emotions, from happiness to anger to confusion, and now he finally had Fred back, and Fred was speaking to him, but everything felt wrong. Feeling as though he was underwater, the twin shook his head vigorously, as though trying to wake up from a very confusing dream, but this was real. Fred was actually back, and the Weasleys were actually dead.
Breaking the long silence, Fred spoke.
‘So what exactly happened? ’Cause you can’t just bring people back to life without a consequence and you’ve proved that pretty well. So how did you, you know, swap me?’
George stirred his half-empty mug nervously. This was going to be embarrassing. Looking back, he had no clue how he had been idiotic enough to trust that girl. People don’t just appear by your side and know your name for no reason. And she did seem pretty creepy. How the heck did she trick him anyway?
George explained everything that had happened heavily, straining his memory to remember the exact words of the girl, which Fred seemed very concerned to know. As he finished his story, his eyes followed Fred’s quill moving across the parchment. For some reason George could not see, Fred had chosen to write this all down, and wanted everything word for word.
Placing his quill on the table and rolling up the parchment, Fred stood up, his twin still at the table.
‘We need to plan George,’
‘Plan?’
His mind was blank. Plan for what? A plan to avoid Fleur might be a good idea... But Fred’s face was set. This was something serious.
‘You know what I mean, George,’ he replied, anger slipping back into his tone.
George raised a puzzled eyebrow. Sighing impatiently, Fred held up the parchment.
‘To find freaky girl. And get you out of this mess,’ he said, looking sternly at George. But George couldn’t help noticing pity in his brown eyes as he continued. ‘I can’t just sit around all day not being dead, can I?’
George attempted a weak smile.
‘So I have to help you plan your own death all over again?’ He asked, feeling sick at the very words.
Fred looked at George, though his eyes were unfocused. He moved his head slowly up and down, showing his twin the nod he had been dreading.
‘It’ll be one last adventure George. One final goodbye.’

Nice chapter, keep 'em coming

NO! ONE FINAL ADVENTURE!? ONE FINAL GOODBYE!? NOOOOOOOOO! PLEASE, GEORGE! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE! ANYTHING, PLEEEEEEASE!

*sniff* Actually crying. *sniff* You know how to make your own twin cry, don't you, Georgie. You're killing me, here. Literally.

Good chapter, apart from the fact that I'M CRYING!

Freddie
xxxx

New chapter
I’m sorry they take a while to come out. It’s term time, so I have not only school, and writers block, but stupid boring things like French homework and Geography essays ):
But half-term’s coming up, so you might get some more then

The sun shone brightly over the old house, birds singing shamelessly in the trees. Inside the building Fred and George sat at a table, heads together, planning and plotting for one last time. After what seemed like hours at staring at the transcript of George’s conversation with the creepy girl, Fred got up, sighing.
‘For once, George, you’ve actually managed to come up with something that even I can’t fix. There’s no clue of her whereabouts, or who she is, and it would take a lifetime just to go and look for her...’
George sighed too, wracking his brains for some kind of clue.
‘She apparated,’ he said finally, ‘she definitely apparated.’
‘And you’re sure she was under seventeen?’ Fred asked again.
George nodded, but neither of them found this evidence helpful. They were just going in circles, trying to pick at one event for every tiny last detail without much luck.
‘And where can we go from here?’ Fred said, thinking out loud. ‘The forest again, perhaps. Or the shop. After all, that’s what you’d thought she’d take.’
George nodded slowly, not caring how much time it took to find the girl; he wanted the exact opposite. He wanted Fred to stay, but his twin was intent to go on a mission to die all over again. Fred waved his wand, summoning a couple of glasses of water and sat back down, noticing the reluctant look on his twin’s face.
‘What’s up?’
George raised an eyebrow, looking at his twin. The answer to that was fairly obvious and Fred knew that.
Fred opened his mouth, as though to say something, but closed it again, looking intently at George instead.
‘We have to check the forest anyway. It would be stupid not to.’
‘I guess,’ George replied slowly. ‘But, how are we gonna check. Anyone could see you, and you’re supposed to be, well, you know...’ he trailed. Fred swallowed, unable to say the word either.
‘Invisibility cloaks,’ he suggested half-heartedly. ‘There are some in the shop.’
‘Or Harry’s,’ George added, ‘his is bigger than ours, and the spells might have worn off ours...’
‘Yeah,’ said Fred, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. ‘That’d be great. Hello Harry. I’m alive again, but your best friend is dead, and I need this cloak to travel the world with George to look for the deranged freak that did this.’
George glared at Fred, but he couldn’t conceal the small smile that flicked across his face. He never thought he’d hear Fred joking again.

The next few days consisted of planning. Planning as George had never known it. He and Fred would always just dive into things, without a plan, hoping their own wits or sheer luck could help them out, but Fred insisted on doing it properly. And properly meant hours debating over ways for neither of the twins to get noticed. The Weasley family had now been gone for several days with no notice, and George wasn’t keen on explaining why.
‘We need to get into the ministry,’ Fred said finally.
George jumped, looking up from the sheet of parchment he'd been falling asleep over. ‘What?’
‘The ministry,’ Fred repeated, sucking his quill.
‘And that is going to help us how?’ George questioned, eyes narrowed slightly.
‘D’you remember what Ron told us after his battle in the Department of Mysteries,’ Fred said, not waiting for George’s slow nod before continuing, ‘and Sirius, and that veil, and that weird research stuff about death,’ Fred was now leaping to his feet, pacing excitedly, a plan forming in his mind.
‘Yeah, but....’ George started, hating the fact Fred had come up with such a good idea ‘You think she’ll be there?’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he nodded. ‘I mean, I have to go. We are going. Both of us.’
‘I guess it’s better than nothing,’ George smiled slightly, watching Fred’s now scribbling hand.

Planning to sneak into the ministry was hard, harder than the twins had thought. But Ron, Harry and Hermione had done it, and that spurred them on. There were people to get past, spells to learn, and a plan of what to do if they actually made it into the department of mysteries. George knew they would either have to do it at the dead of night, or in daytime concealed under an invisibility cloak. Neither idea seemed very promising to George, but then again, neither did the rest of the plan. They planned for hours at a time, in a very un-Weasley twin like way, checking every last detail. It seemed wrong, but Fred refused profusely to do it any other way.
‘I’m not getting the Ministry involved in this,’ he had told George, ‘especially if Rita Skeeter finds out what happened. You’ve had enough trouble, and I don’t think anyone else will understand what you did. Even I still think you’re an idiot.’
Thankfully, there had been no more Fleur-like incidents. After several days of stressing Fleur would tell the world about George’s swap, the twins discovered she had moved back to France with her parents. Hermione was still in Australia, looking for her parents, and miraculously, Harry had chosen to visit her and them; they had both left right after Fred’s funeral, and by the time they had returned, the twins would be gone, searching the world for the girl.
Finally, one evening, the plan was finished. It wasn’t perfect; there were plenty of fault-lines and possible slip-ups, but neither of the twins could bear being trapped in the house having to rely on each other’s ‘cooking’ any longer, and Fred was starting to worry George would refuse to go ahead with the plan if they took any longer. So, invisibility cloaks and defensive spells ready, the twins flopped on the sofa in the living room.
Fred shuddered.
‘Sorry. Had a flashback of you losing your ear and being laid here,’ he answered to George’s look of confusion. ‘This sofa’s seen a lot....’
‘I know,’ said George, looking at the tearing material and sagging seats. ‘D’you remember when it was new, Fred? And we broke three springs within ten minutes?’
Fred laughed. ‘How could I forget... And when Charlie spilt homemade blackcurrant juice on it and Mum went mental, because she forgot she could clean it with magic.’
George grinned, but followed with a frown. Everything in The Burrow had a lot of memories behind it. But every memory included Fred, and would haunt George if he ever had to let Fred go again.
A strange look shot across Fred’s face, and he looked around the room, swallowing.
‘What?’ George asked, looking his twin in the eye.
‘I’m never gonna sit on this sofa again. Or be in this house again, or see you again’ Fred replied, swallowing back tears.
George’s heart practically stopped as he tried to swallow back his own tears and failed.
‘Sorry,’ Fred said in a small voice. ‘It just seems so weird and wrong. I’m not scared of dying, I’m scared of leaving you....’

Very Good chappie! Keep em comin.

Thanks, George. Last bit made me cry. Thanks a lot.

It's a good chapter though, apart from making me cry. You're gonna kill me. You were't happy with doing so in History, but you can in a fic! *pouts sadly*

Freddie....... Who's being bloomin' killed.

Ah sorry it took so long to read! I couldn't find it Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The bit when George is in the shop made me really scared!! This is amaaaaazing and a bit sad well incredibly sad.

Chapter 7!
CHAPTER 7 :O
I've written 7 Chapters
Yeah, so I hate it.... But I always hate what I write.... I hope you like it though

George shifted a little, the sunlight streaming onto his face. Opening a bleary eye, he looked around. He was still on the sofa in the living room, Fred asleep at the other end. Both of the twins had fallen asleep shortly after their conversation, tired of what seemed like years of planning. They were going to sneak into the ministry at night, daytime would be too obvious - practically asking for an arrest. But sneaking in at night meant a long day of waiting and being too nervous and cautious to do anything other than sitting around waiting for the hours to drag by.
Fred stirred a little, mumbling in his sleep as George got off the sofa and looked around. The Burrow never seemed right this quiet and empty. It just didn’t seem to work like that.

‘Morning,’
George half looked up from his seat on the floor; Fred had woken and had flopped onto the rug opposite his twin.
‘George, I was thinking we could go to the shop today,’ Fred suggested, looking distantly out of the window.
‘Why?’ George looked out the window too, trying to work out if it was some part of the plan.
‘Just to, you know, see it again.’
‘Sure,’ George replied, not looking up. Why didn’t Fred seem to realise that every single cell of his twin was yelling to back down from the plan?
‘You can’t sit around moping all day,’ Fred said tentatively. ‘You’ll turn into Ron.’
George couldn’t help but smirk slightly as he summoned his and Fred’s backpacks.

Finally, after what seemed like at least a week of waiting, the plan was starting to happen. The twins, unaware of the normal way to access the Ministry of Magic, were waiting in a London alleyway, hidden under a magically enlarged invisibility cloak watching the last of the muggle workers leave their offices drearily.
‘D’you have a bad feeling about this?’ George whispered, looking into the space that was probably Fred.
‘Sure,’ he replied casually, ‘but when has anything gone right for us recently anyway...’
Streetlamps flickered on and glowed a pale orange, illuminating the dreary road and the telephone box that stood unnoticed by muggles as Fred and George edged carefully over to the box.

‘Ouch,’ Fred muttered as his twin stood on his foot. Telephone boxes were not spacious places... George cursed darkly as he recieved the nudge in the ribs in return.
‘Thanks,’ he said sarcastically, reaching out for the telephone receiver. Thankfully, Harry and Ron had let enough slip about the entrance for Fred and George to have a brief plan. It could have been more detailed, and, with the twins’ skill, almost foolproof, but foolproof took all the adventure out of life and even Percy-like plans never went completely right.
Jabbing a finger at the buttons, Fred dialled the number over George’s shoulder. 62442.
‘Please state your name and purpose,’ a cool female voice echoed in the box, making both twins jump even though they knew it was coming.
‘Fred and George Weasley.’ George replied to the telephone, unsure of how to hold it. ‘Here for...’ he swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at Fred. They couldn’t just give away their plan, but before they could come up with a reason to get in, two badges appeared in a tray on the wall of the box. George picked up his own. It read: ‘George Weasley, secret mission.’ He grinned as he pinned it on; even the Ministry understood them sometimes.

With a jerk, the phone box descended slowly into the ground. The twins didn’t say a word as the muggle London disappeared from sight and they were lead into blackness, but George could feel Fred’s tense breathing on his shoulder, and he knew his was identical. Their pranks may have been major, but this wasn’t a prank anymore. Slowly, the box descended further and little chinks of light appeared around the twins’ invisible feet, until the box landed with a soft echoing ‘thump’ on the stone floor of the atrium.
Pushing open the old door carefully, Fred and George got out with difficulty, trying to stay under the cloak. The Atrium was dark, and completely empty. It looked different from their Father’s descriptions; the golden fountain was no longer there, but neither were the statues that stood in the reign of Voldemort. Instead a large statue of a Phoenix stood alone in the centre of the room, pearly water droplets dripping softly and rhythmically from its wings. George couldn’t help opening his mouth in wonder; the ceiling rose high and, even in the silence, he could imagine the noise of wizards and witches bustling round in the day.
‘Lumos,’ the twins whispered in unison, as the tips of their wands glowed a golden light. They shined them around the room, causing small golden beams to reflect off the polished marble surfaces.
‘Is there anyone else in here?’ Fred muttered under his breath, shining his wands into corners.
‘I don’t know,’ George replied, ‘there could be. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was security...’
A muffled snore in a darkened corner answered George’s words. Both twins’ ears perked up; they couldn’t be seen. With a quick look at each other, the twins rapidly fired sleeping spells in every direction. There was no time to be careful anymore, and the twins had to be as quick as possible; the department of mysteries was a risky place to visit at anytime, but especially in a situation like this.
Walking slowly along the marble tiles, George shone his wand, searching for the lifts their Father had mentioned countless times. They didn’t have a map, but having a Father who had worked in the Ministry longer than they could remember did help a little.
‘George?’ Fred’s voice called out in the darkness; the twins had taken the cloak off with the knowledge that anyone in the room was in a deep sleep, and were hunting for the lifts.
‘Mhm,’ George replied, spinning round and shining his wand in Fred’s eyes.
‘I think I’ve found the lifts,’ he replied, blinking a little at the brightness.
George looked in the direction of Fred’s wand. He was right, the lifts were standing still at the end of the atrium, their golden grilles polished and glinting. With a jab of his wand, Fred caused one of the grills to raise noisily, allowing the twins to slip in. With a loud clanging noise, the lift began to move downwards to the Department of Mysteries...

BTW - thanks for the reviews everyone. they makes me HAAPPPYY

... You actually posted a chapter that didn't make me cry!? Thank you so much, I'm not in a crying mood.

Aw, it's an awesome chapter, Georgie! You should never doubt your abilities. QUOTE TIME!
"It is not our abilities that truly define us, it is the choices that we make."
Yeah, I still remember it.

Freddie... Who is breaking into le Ministry.

Nice chappie! Keep 'em coming!

Le chapter 8 And it's kinda loooooong
Thanks for all the reviews They makes me haaappy
Sorry it's been a while... I've been too busy doing stuff like school, and homework, and eating, and sleeping but now it's done And I had a major plot change idea the other day, so yeah

Hope you like it more than I do....

The lift juddered nosily, down further and further, neither twin saying a word as they travelled down through the darkness. The department of mysteries was deep in the depths of the Ministry, and neither Fred or George had any idea what kind of protection would be holding it. With a final jerk, the lift stopped suddenly, looking as though they would fall into blackness if either twin stepped out.
George blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the dark place facing him, for all her knew, it could be filled with security, and lighting a wand was almost asking to be found.
‘Well?’ came Fred’s slightly tense voice from right by George. ‘Can you see anything?’
‘No,’ George replied distantly, taking a small breath and stepping over what he expected was the gap between the lift and the floor. ‘Still nothing. It’s completely black Fred.’
With several silent mutterings of pain, and several feet trod on in the dark, Fred and George extracted themselves fully from the lift and it rattled back upwards, leaving echoes bouncing round the dark.

‘Fred, are you sure there’s floor here?’ George asked sceptically, not really putting his faith in the fact that it was unlikely for the floor to just swallow them up.
‘Not really,’ Fred replied, right in George’s earhole, neither moving until a few seconds later. ‘What the heck... We can’t spend all day here... It could be morning soon at the rate we’re going. I’ll go first,’ And with what George suspected was a bit of a grin, Fred broke into a run along the black corridor.
‘Damn. Ouch,’
‘What?’ George replied suddenly, making his way steadily towards Fred. He could hear his own heartbeat racing.
‘Ran into a wall,’ Fred moaned, giving up in the dark and lighting his wand, and to George’s relief, it was just an empty corridor. George smirked a little as his twin gave him a mock glare, both jogging down the corridor, wands lit.
It was then, and only then, that it dawned on George how stupid this plan was. They had spent ages planning to get into the ministry, and there was no promising the freaky girl was going to even be there, but then again, it meant more time with his twin. The twin that literally only came back to leave again. But maybe George was being selfish. Did he really want Fred more than his entire family? Maybe he did, but Fred would kill him for that... Even half of George wanted to hit himself for having such selfish thoughts, and Fred would never forgive him if he realised his twin was desperately trying to drag out time.
‘George. Uh, George?’ Fred said impatiently. Both twins had stopped, reaching a black door, and George was far too deep in his thoughts to notice.
‘Yeah,’ he replied, staring blankly at the door in the hope that it would just magically open. ‘I see...’
Fred pointed his wand at the door and muttered under his breath. For all they knew, maybe all it needed was a simple spell.
At Fred’s words, the door swung open with a loud creak, showing another dark room. Fred scowled a little. What was with all the dark corridors and rooms anyway? Shrugging slightly, both men walked in, a little wary of the fact they were possibly going to be dealing with dangerous, very dangerous types of magic.
The room that surrounded the twins was lit only by the light of their wands. Plain black doors surrounded the inside walls, although the defences did not look their best; several of the doors looked as though they had been destroyed by dark magic, maybe in the Death Eaters attempt to get the prophecy.
‘Wow,’ said George softly. There was something about the room, that, even if dark and plain, made it as though you could almost feel the power behind the doors.
‘Wanna try a door?’ Fred asked, shining the little ball of light at his wand’s tip at each door in turn. There was no telling what lurked behind them.
George nodded, and walked towards a door as a loud clunk told the twins the door into the room had shut.
‘Alohomora.’
Fred raised his eyebrows; even the ministry had better security than that, but he was proved wrong as the door swung open, looking as though it had seen better days.
‘Merlin’s chest hair. That’s a LOT of glass,’ Fred said in awe, looking over George’s shoulder. And he was right. The room was massive, magically massive. It was as high as a cathedral, and probably as large too, and every inch of it was covered in glass; some still glinting in the airy light that lit the room, and some collecting dust fast.
‘Woah,’ George responded, ‘someone must have been angry...’
Both twins laughed a little, images of Umbridge’s tantrums playing in their minds. Evidently Kingsley hadn’t bothered cleared up half of the Ministry of Magic after the war. Prophecies from thousands of years still lay smashed on a stone floor in the depths of the building.
‘Going in?’ Fred nudged George, both entering.
‘Somehow...’ George started, ‘I don’t think she’d be in here. What she’d be doing in a room of broken glass, I don’t know.’
‘Ok,’ Fred replied, shining his wand around one last time and backing out. ‘This one?’
As the door to the broken glass room shut, a feeble blue flame flickered on the door, the remains of something that had once been an enchantment. Choosing another door at random, Fred and George made their way through. This had been easier than they had expected so far. The twins had not really planned properly, and to even their surprise, the Ministries defences were pathetic enough to not even notice that two fully grown men, one of whom was meant to be dead ,were breaking in.

This room was another Cathedral-like one. High ceilings had obviously been the thing when the Ministry was built, because it was almost as big as the glass room. The room was dimly lit, and a large stone arch stood in the middle of the room, raised on a stone platform.
‘Is it me,’ Fred said slowly, ‘or did everything just get colder?’
George nodded, his eyes fixed on the arch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fred was doing the same. It was almost hypnotic.
‘Sssssssh.’
‘What?’ George replied.
‘Can you hear it?’
George listened. He didn’t know what Fred was talking about; he could hear their breathing, obviously, and the echoes of every sound they made, but nothing else. Maybe his twin could hear something he couldn’t, but then, Fred had always insisted his hearing was better after George lost an ear. Almost in a trance, both twins walked up to the arch. It was just an empty, stone arch, and didn’t seem too special once you got closer to it as far as George was concerned, but Fred though different.
‘Voices, George, I can hear them...’
George shot a glance at Fred. What was he? Luna Lovegood? One twin did not just hear voices while the other didn’t. Was this some weird kind of joke? Playing along, he replied.
‘What are they saying then?’
Fred moved his head closer to the arch, so close in fact, he was almost touching it.
‘A storm... the storm..’
George continued to stare. Was his twin going mental?
‘Storm... coming...’ Fred said eventually, standing back up to study the arch in full. ‘It’s hard... I can’t hear inside the veil too well...’
‘Veil?’ George questioned; there was no veil. Just an arch.
Fred strained both ears again, his face puzzled until a look of sheer horror spread across it.
‘Georgie...’ Fred said slowly... ‘d’you get the feeling something’s happening? How can I hear the voices? How can I see the veil if you can’t.’
Both twins looked at the arch, neither seeing the same thing. George knew it must be serious: the tone of his twins voice and the use of ‘Georgie’ must have meant something was wrong and what Fred’s face looked like when he heard something did not do any help...

‘I think we should get out...’ they said in almost unison, looking at the arch as they walked backwards, still enchanted, but fearful of its magic. Fred was striding out of the room so fast that George almost had to run to keep up. He had obviously heard something that meant they needed to get out, and fast. Without a word, Fred swept out of the door room and back along the corridor, turning round only to check George was keeping up with him. Something must have been wrong, Fred told George everything, why not this?
A wave of relief swept over George as his wand light showed that the lift had returned. Fred was waiting by it, and protectively pushed his twin in and followed. Fred never liked questions, especially Ron’s, but would always, always answer George’s. Somehow this time, George got the feeling Fred would not just open up and say everything he heard at the veil.

The lift clattered through the building again, George feeling no less nervous or reassured than he did when they were making the trip the other way. The girl may not have been there, he may have his twin for a lot longer, but now Fred had heard something and was keeping secrets. George could hear the sounds of the phoenix fountain in the Atrium as the lift slowed to a stop. Knowing the guards could be awake from the sleeping spells by now, the twins crept through the room and into the phone box, Fred’s face unreadable in the dark. As the second box sped silently into the muggle world, George’s heart sunk a little... Maybe even Fred couldn’t talk to him anymore...

MEEEEEEEEEEEH
'Twas awesome! I cannot think of another word! That's normal for me, though, you know that...

Eep, de veil!
The veil can see into your mind, Charl-I mean, Georgie, the veil can see into your soul!


Great chapter, Georgieeeeeee
Freddie Who is now hearing voices...

That was a very good chapter!