Chapter 9 Thanks for reviews Stuff is finally just starting to happen now....


London was in a deep sleep by the time the box surfaced in the muggle city again. The occasional group of night clubbers, often too drunk to notice anything, walked past. The twins didn’t need the invisibility cloak anymore, and hadn’t really planned any further than leaving the Ministry, but they needed to get properly ready if they were going to search the world, starting with every place linked to magic in the UK. And travelling wouldn’t be easy either; the Ministry would notice a portkey but nobody could just apparate to a random location in Scotland. It wasn’t possible.

Feet leading the way, the twins walked the only familiar path, right through London, gaining several strange looks. They had left the Burrow in a similar state to how it had been before Fred had returned, although the kitchen smelt slightly more burnt now. The twins were taking themselves to the only place they knew in London; Diagon Alley. The flat above the home contained most of Fred’s and some of George’s stuff. They had abandoned it on Spring evening to flee from the death eaters, leaving most of their stuff behind. George wasn’t sure if he had told Fred what state it was in. Last time there had been a lot of mess.

Pulling their jackets a little tighter around themselves, they approached the Leaky Cauldron, which was, was always, full of magical people and creatures. London streets may have been no problem, but this was an obstacle.
‘Can I have the cloak George,’ Fred said. George nodded and gave him the cloak, his mind picking apart the tone of Fred’s voice. He hadn’t said anything since being in that room in the Ministry, and although George had no idea what his twin heard, he could tell it wasn’t anything good. Fred was always open and talkative, even after he came back. The twins could talk for hours, but George knew Fred wasn’t going to start a conversation about this.
‘Fred, the shop’s uh, in kind of a mess,’ George said, picturing the paper lying everywhere. Something inside Fred snapped a little then, breaking him out of the trance he had been in.
‘Typical...’ Fred sighed, ‘Death eaters. Don’t even clean up after themselves. Though I bet you knew that... There was a lot of rubble after that battle,’ he smirked.
‘Yeah,’ grinned George, glad that Fred had responded. ‘Filch is probably still sweeping...’
Fred’s own face broke into a grin at that thought. ‘Serves him right though... shame I can’t be there to see it instead of off chasing up some teenage girl.’
Both twins laughed at that statement before Fred pulled a more serious face.
‘Angelina,’ Fred started with a slight frown. ‘Did she, uh, mention anything about me?’
George cast his mind back, smirking a little at the fact Fred was so concerned about girls, something he would be badly teased for.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied, ‘she came to your, you know, but I didn’t speak to her, I didn’t speak to anyone.’
Fred nodded, muttering something darkly under his breath, but stopping there, as they had reached the shop. With the correct wand movements, George opened the door, and walked in, glad he was first as not to see Fred’s reaction.
‘Those... little...,’ Fred swore darkly, still angry about Angelina with the matter of a destroyed shop on top.
‘Well, we won’t be here long,’ George added, making his way to the stairs that led to the flat.
‘How the hell d’you get to Scotland anyway?’ Fred asked, racing George up the stairs. George shrugged. Neither of the twins was really good at the whole planning thing.
‘Portkey...’ he suggested half-heartedly... ‘Alicia Spinnet works in that part of the Ministry, maybe we could ask her.’
‘Correction,’ Fred winked, ‘you could ask her.’
George gave Fred a playful shove.
‘Sixth year, sixth year Fred. You really think I still like her? And anyway, you’re one to talk, who was complaining about a certain Angelina three seconds ago.’
A full scale shoving war could have erupted except for the fact the flat door was now open, and Fred was gaping in at the sea of paper that even George could have sworn had grown since his last visit.
‘I see your point,’ he laughed slightly, trying and failing to resist his temptation to jump right into the paper.

After several immature minutes of a paper fight, George grasped his maturity back for a minute to speak.
‘Pack Fred, we really can’t stay long here... people will notice the amount of noise you’re making.’

Fred sighed, dropping his paper snowman and, yawning loudly, making his way over to the flat’s only bedroom the twins shared. The bedroom was a wreck, but less than the living room. The hammocks Fred and George slept on were slightly ripped, but the twins packed them anyway, along with all their clothes, blankets, and brooms. The tent the twins had once purchased with their money from the shop was packed, unused and waiting. But packing was the easy part. Planning was important, but neither twin wanted to. George was easily distracted, and Fred was extremely restless. Eventually, after some decision, Fred and George put the hammocks back up. If they were going to get a portkey, they’d have to stay for at least a short while, and George had eventually given in and agreed to Fred’s idea of going to Alicia.

‘You have to look the part too,’ Fred yawned, lying in his hammock. If they had to plan, it would be last thing at night when they were too tired to do anything else.
‘What do you mean?’ came the response. ‘I do look like me.’
‘Like normal you, you need to look like the George that hasn’t seen me for however many weeks,’ Fred replied.
‘Oh, yeah. Which means you’ll need to hide too; we can’t let Alicia in on the plan. I will look the part if I don’t get any sleep, which is going to happen at the rate your going,’ George said, looking at Fred’s face which was, although tired, alert.
‘Good idea,’ Fred said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll make you some coffee,’ and with a grin, he leapt out of his hammock, George following slowly.

Several hours later, Fred fell asleep on the table, not having any coffee himself. George, six espressos more awake than his twin, shook himself. He still hadn’t recovered from the sleepless nights after Fred’s death. They may have been twins, but Fred and George slept very differently. Fred kicked and shouted in his sleep, yet George always lay still, and managed to sleep through. Mrs Weasley always said that George could sleep through and earthquake, and he guessed she was right. But this night in particular, Fred was different. He wasn’t shouting, but muttering, which worried his twin a little. Now that there was nothing to talk about or focus on, the mystery of the archway and the voices Fred heard came back hauntingly. Before long, Fred was starting to talk in his sleep.
‘Closer.... come... closer... archway.’
George jumped, the mention of the archway waking him more than all the coffee. It disconcerted him slightly, Fred hearing that stuff and instantly wanting to get away. Closer to the archway? But Fred had practically been touching it.
‘Storm... coming.’
It was the storm again. Fred had mentioned something about the storm back in the room.
‘What storm?’ George spoke out loud, with the slightest hope Fred would maybe respond, but to his disappointment, his brother just gave a louder snore and stopped the talking altogether.

ALICIA!
Stooooooorm? Stooooooorm's coming? I WANNA PLAY IN THE RAIN!
Heh. Paper.

Great chapter, Georgie!

Freddie Who is talking in his sleep... o__O

Chapter 10 Chapter 10 Chapter 10
Ok, I hope you like :3

And, if anyone can tell me why Alicia's brothers are called what they are - you will win a supply of eternal virtual cookies and brownies for being as much of a geek as I am


Rain poured heavily the next morning, as a red-eyed, sleep deprived George Weasley stood outside the red door, Fred next to him, concealed under a trusty invisibility cloak. The muggle street was almost deserted, with the exception of an occasional car or dog-walker, but George realised that standing there any longer would draw a lot of unwanted attention. With a look at his invisible twin, he knocked sharply on the door as Fred dived behind a bush.

Noise sounded inside, the sound of people running up and down the stairs while others yelled back and forth. It sounded just like The Burrow on a quiet day. George would have tried to get rid of the memory, but every sad thought made the thing look a whole lot more real.
Suddenly, the door opened, a little too fast, and George found himself facing something that came as a bit of a shock. Only the quiet hiss from Fred stopped George exclaiming out loud as the door opened to, not the short, blonde woman he had expected, but two men, rather a lot taller than him, who were completely identical.
‘Who is it guys?’ called a familiar voice from the top of the stairs. A little part of George sighed with relief. At least they had the right house.
‘I dunno,’ one of the twins replied, as they both looked George up and down curiously.
‘He’s ginger,’ the other one shouted rather unhelpfully,
‘-about six foot-’
‘-and with only one ear...’ one finished, with a slight smirk. Why had Alicia never said she had brothers? Or whoever they were...
The ear thing was the trigger though, with a slight scream, and a muffled sob, Alicia came flying down the stairs, half dressed for work.
‘Move,’ she muttered, glaring at the boys, who shrunk a little despite the way they towered over her. ‘George, oh George,’ she sniffed, a tear leaking from her eye.
George was doing all he could not to laugh, cry and gaze in wonder at the way Alicia was having a slight breakdown in front of him, but he had to accept he was supposed be used to this given the situation he was meant to be in.
‘Yeah.. hi,’ he croaked, deliberately hoarse.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alicia burst out, dragging him in by the arm. ‘These are the twins,’ she said, ‘my twins... Callum and Finlay.’
Upon realisation of George’s identity, both Callum and Finlay stopped staring and back away a little, after all, they’d probably even been at Fred’s funeral, and being twins in front of a man who’d just lost his twin wasn’t the best thing.
‘How are you? You look so... ill... I’m sorry George, what can I do?’ Alicia burst out at once, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to crumple up on George’s shoulder and cry. George reckoned he should probably look the same. With a small movement, he gave Alicia’s brothers a rather pointed glare, as though signalling them to leave the room.
‘Guys...’ Alicia said, shunting them along the corridor and up the stairs, ‘go, I need to talk to George.’

She led the twin into a room that definitely didn’t belong in a muggle house, for it was filled with cauldrons, spellbooks and broken wands. Sitting him down as his own mother had done after the Weasleys had returned from the battle, Alicia Spinnet summoned a teapot and what looked like week’s worth of food, after scrutinising George and deciding he was too thin. But he really didn’t have time to pretend he was interested in food, and headed straight to the point.
‘I need,’ he started, making her jump, ‘a portkey...’
Alicia stared, looking unsure of whether she had just imagined the words leaving George’s mouth.
‘A-are you sure? A portkey? You need to go home George, you need to eat, and sleep, not go off gallivanting in some foreign country...’ she trailed.
George sighed, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting it. Women could be like that, fussing over you and not actually realising what you need. George gave her such a Weasley-esque glare that she recoiled a little.
‘B-but where?’ Alicia now looked on the verge of tears again.
Trying very hard to be patient with the woman, George casted his mind back to the planning with Fred. Scotland, they had decided, Scotland to start with.
‘Scotland...’
Thankfully, Alicia seemed to find some hidden meaning in George’s need to go North, and nodded slowly.
‘I – really... well... I’ll see,’ she began, as George suppressed a slight grin. Maybe his acting was great, or she was very easily persuaded, but, whatever it was, they got to Scotland. It was when George remembered the reason of the trip to Scotland that his heart sank again, and Alicia probably saw this, because she took his slightly open mouth as an opportunity to fill it with a large spoon of hot soup.
‘Eat it all,’ she commanded, getting up and pulling her wand out. ‘Or no portkey.’
George gave a fake sigh and started spooning the liquid into his mouth. He could have told Alicia everything, she may have given him the portkey anyway, along with extra advice, but on the other hand, knowing the way she had treated George, she would probably go straight to the Ministry, and that meant trouble.
The twins appeared back downstairs a few moments later, not speaking as they watched their older sister pottering round the house and George eating. It was weird, he had never met them, or heard about them before, but they looked right as a pair, as though one of them would just look weird on their own. Maybe he and Fred looked like that to strangers too, but they probably didn’t freak people out the way these twins did to George. Their tall, lean figures and the way they started intimidated him a little, although he’d never admit it to anyone, he always felt a lot more defenceless without Fred next to him.
‘Callum, Finlay,’ came Alicia’s voice as she appeared again, holding an old toothbrush. ‘I said to leave him alone,’ and as she handed George the portkey, the twins skulked off again. ‘It’s going to leave tonight, if that’s ok. 10.30.’
George nodded, getting up to leave.
‘Thanks,’ he muttered.
‘No problem,’ Alicia smiled slightly, ‘but be careful, won’t you? And looking as though she had been trying to stop herself ever since he walked in, Alicia stood on her toes and gave George a kiss on the cheek, opening the front door again.

George smirked in satisfaction a little as the door shut with a click, and as he tucked the toothbrush into a coat pocket, his twin emerged from the invisibility cloak, joining George’s walk down the garden path.
‘I saw that,’ Fred winked, poking George in the ribs, ‘ she kissed you, I saw.’
George poked Fred back in retaliation, rolling his eyes at the childish reaction. ‘How did you?’
‘Aaaah. Fred Weasley never misses a trick,’ Fred replied, almost as though they were twelve again.

A flash of blonde and a scream that was audible even through the windows caused both twins to jump that moment. Alicia had seen something. She had seen Fred.

Very Good update

:OOOOOOOOO SHE SAW FREEEEEED!

I am claiming my brownie tomorrow.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Great chapterrrrrr!

Kiera...

I loooooooooove Keep it uuuuuuuuuuuuup =,D

Newreader Amy x

Awww :3 Thanks for all the reviews guys... I was thinking of taking this off here... it's getting lots more reviews on FF.net, but i'll keep it for now...

It was several minutes later that Fred and George stopped running; Fred clutching his side with a bad stitch. Without even thinking completely, the twins grabbed each other and spun, apparating into the first place in George’s head. With a slight crunch of leaves underfoot, both me appeared in a deserted forest. The portkey wasn’t much use now. Alicia had seen Fred. It was up. If they didn’t think fast, the Ministry would be involved, Fred would be dead and George could possible even be in Azkaban by now. Alicia would have leapt out of the house, chasing the twins until deciding they’d apparated, and then heading straight for someone who could track them down. Ministry workers would be appearing at The Burrow and the shop in no time, and the rest of the Weasleys would be officially declared missing. Both twins prayed that they had left no trace of themselves at the houses, but burnt food littering the table of The Burrow and all their clothes missing wasn’t promising. The game was up unless they thought fast.
Taking a quick glance around to ensure they quite alone, Fred flopped onto the leafy ground of the forest, gazing up at the trees as every swear he ever knew leaked from his mouth.
‘She saw us. She SAW us...’
George sat down opposite his twin, noticing how ashamed of himself Fred was. True, it was a stupid mistake to take off the cloak within eyeshot, but anyone could have made the mistake. If the twins had explained to Alicia, they may have persuaded her to keep the secret, but the look of shock on her face when she saw Fred with George was the same look as someone who would go straight to the ministry.
Sitting down a little way from his twin, who was still either moaning in despair or plotting something else, George considered his options. They were going to have to keep going; but in a lot more secret. Fred’s appearance would probably be linked to the break-in in the Department of Mysteries. When Fred did leave again – George shuddered a little – he’d have to come up with some story anyway. Hopefully, Kingsley, the new minister, would not be too harsh with George, but after Fred had reacted to what he had done, that was just a mere hope.
‘Sorry...’ Fred trailed off eventually, making George jump right out of his skin at the sound of a human voice.
George shrugged.
‘Don’t worry,’ he smiled, ‘we all mess up. I’m king of that,’
Fred smirked a little, nodding ever so slightly.
‘and, anyway, we weren’t exactly planning on storming through Scotland making loads of noise, trying to get people to notice us before she spotted you.’
‘Yeah,’ Fred replied, ‘but I was thinking, what if wherever the portkey would have taken us is where freaky-girl actually is? We really need to go there...’
George shook his head. That was the second-to-last (after their homes) place they were going for a long time. ‘That’s what they want, anyway, stop complaining. Longer it takes, the more time with me.’
Fred nodded slightly sadly. ‘Yeah. You’re right. I hardly want to turn into Percy, wallowing in self-pity – look what good that did to him. Not much,’ he snorted, getting up and inspecting the trees as though they were actually interesting. ‘We gonna stay here?’
‘Whatever,’ George replied. Forests all seemed the same to him, but both him and Fred were going to have to get used to them; forests were always good hiding places.
It took several confused minutes and a lot of failed attempts to put up the tent, which, brand new in forest of gnarled, ageing trees, looked quite out of place and was a very big giveaway, but neither Fred or George couldn’t say they didn’t appreciate the fact that there was something warm they could spend the night in.
The tent was larger than they needed, but it was nice having space. Like all wizarding tents, it was a lot larger on the inside and was rather nice, for a tent. For some reason neither twin knew, the tent they had chosen was one with five beds, when they only needed two, but, as George had mentioned, you never knew when a spare bed would come in handy.
‘All we need now,’ Fred said thoughtfully, sinking into the large red sofa in the centre of the tent, ‘Is some food. Some proper decent food.’
George couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this demand. Neither twin could cook to save their life, and had been living off burnt toast for the past few days, and just because they were in the middle of a forest now, not the Burrow, it only made it less likely they’d manage to concoct something edible.
‘Sure,’ he grinned, sitting down next to Fred, ‘I’ll just go out and get a load of food from inside a tree or something, and you can make some pastry and turn it into a pie, as we are so skilled at doing so.’
‘Well,’ retorted Fred, chuckling, ‘At least Ron the eating machine isn’t here – he’d probably dying of lack of food or something really stupid.’ It had to be said, Ron couldn’t, and wouldn’t go two days without a decent meal for lunch, breakfast and dinner. He couldn’t cook to save his life either, but would be extremely grumpy without food, as George had learnt from Harry’s tales after the battle.
‘It must be weird...’ George began, a more serious thought occurring.
‘What?’
‘Where d’you think Mum, Dad and everyone actually are? Do you think they know why they’re not here?’ He finished, a little guiltily.
Fred shrugged blankly.
‘No clue. I mean, I had no idea of anything until I suddenly looked up and there was The Burrow. Bit annoying really... I was just about to go and talk to a group of Veela cousins that didn’t make it either,’ he winked, ‘and next thing I know, I’m standing in some stupid field in England.’ Fred yawned, getting up from the sofa and walking over to one of the beds, George following. ‘Not that I’m complaining too much,’ he carried on, ‘yeah, it’s cold, yeah I miss those girls up in heaven, but when the only part of you to talk to is that ear, It gets boring.’
George grinned, moving his hand absently to what Fred called his ‘what-once-was-an-ear-hole’. That had been one weird night, being Harry, almost being killed by your own potions teacher, but at least it worked. Sort of. As though Fred had read his mind, he burst out; ‘yeah. Of Course the seven Harrys worked, what with Mad-eye and your ear.’
George blinked. Fred did that a lot, almost read George’s mind, and George did it too. According to Luna Lovegood, they shared some kind of ‘bond’ and could see the thoughts in each others’ eyes. George hadn’t mentioned it at the time – he’d been rather busy shutting himself in his bedroom – but to him that sounded like a load of utter rubbish. They had always done it, but this was definitely the first time since Fred coming back that it had happened, and for some reason that shook.
Both twins changed out of their day clothes in silence – not awkward silence – but peaceful, but there was the slightest trace of tenseness in the air. Fred had suggested that evening that, like Harry, Ron and Hermione, one of the twins acted as a lookout. Alicia couldn’t find them on her own, but there were no promises the Ministry couldn’t. They’d destroyed the portkey completely, and after a lot of discussion, decided they were too tired to lookout, and just protected the tent with several spells.
Shivering in the cold breeze that fluttered around and in the tent, George pulled the thin blanket that covered his bed up to his head and lay back, sighing sleepily. ‘We need to move tomorrow,’ he yawned.
‘I know...’ came an identical voice, ‘night George.’
‘Night,’ and with a flick of his wand, George turned the light filling the tent out, drowning the place in darkness.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
Heeheehee, forests. If only it were deh forest of dean... *sighs* Then they'd be near us...
To think, we've been near the golden trio!
Great chapter!

Keerrrrrrrra (Peggy's way)

^Kira made Amy jealous of bein near the forest of dean

Looooooooved hehe

Amy ='D x

Looks good! Keep it up!

Blehblehbleh. You know what I always say in this bit....

The next morning started early; stupidly early. It was barely 6 am when the sun’s light got so strong it woke both twins. Birds sang outside in the forest as Fred and George moaned sleepily. They had wanted to get away soon, but waking at what felt like the crack of dawn was just stupid.
‘Bloody birds...’ George grumbled, kicking the corner of blanket that had actually remained on his bed right off. Fred nodded, tossing his blanket off with an equal movement. It was a well known fact that both twins kicked like mad in their sleep from time to time, and Lee Jordan, who had shared a dormitory with both for seven years, never understood how they stayed asleep; he was the one awoken every night by the thrashing and sleep talking. Shaking his head like a dog emerging from water, George made his way cautiously to the small oven in the kitchen section of the tent; after a long sleep, he was extremely hungry: hungry enough to put up with his cooking skills if it meant some form of food.
‘Pancakes,’ he grinned, looking as though he were eight again as Fred ran over to search his backpack for food. ‘What’s actually in them?’
‘Dunno,’ shrugged Fred, rummaging in the large bag. ‘Sugar? Flour? Butter?’
‘Probably,’ George nodded, catching each of the ingredients his twin threw to him. ‘Doesn’t Mum usually include lemons?’
‘And where the heck am I supposed to get one of those?’
‘Uh. Use an orange instead. They’re similar enough...’
‘Peanut butter, eggs,’ Fred continued, throwing a jar and a load of raw eggs randomly behind him, causing the ones George didn’t catch to smash onto the floor, ‘ah well... I don’t really like eggs anyway...’
A very messy, eggy, sticky ten minutes later, both twins admitted defeat. Pancakes were impossible. So, after ‘cleaning up’ Fred and George dug a box of cereal out of George’s backpack and dug in hungrily, completely forgetting they really needed to move on, as the longer they stayed in one place, the closer the Ministry would get to finding them.

‘George. We need to move. ‘Cause those evil gits at the Ministry are probably tracking us right now,’
George snorted, ‘They won’t find us, they didn’t find Sirius easily, but I have to admit, these trees are really boring me...’
Throwing the remains of the cornflakes outside the tent for the non-existent birds to eat, George shoved everything randomly into his and Fred’s bags, whilst Fred walked round the tent, pretending he knew what he was meant to be doing as he plucked tent pegs out of the soil whilst whistling absently to himself. George smirked, knowing the similarity between him and Fred, he probably did it too, but the way Fred whistled reminded him of Arthur a lot. It was weird, having the family gone. Even when they lived in the flat above their shop, the twins saw their family most days, mainly just so they could have a decent meal, but nevertheless, they saw them. It seemed Fred’s plan to keep George’s mind busy and distracted from the fact the only reason they were camping in the middle of some woods was so they could return Fred to being dead and get the Weasleys back , but the efforts obviously weren’t enough, as every moment George’s thoughts would linger back to the real reason, and he would want to hang back.
‘Forge!’ Fred yelled eventually, as a warning he was about to collapse the tent, ‘get out. I’m not carrying you in my backpack.’

It took a while for Fred and George actually to leave. Once the tent had finally been packed, there was the matter of where they were actually going, which neither twin had thought of. Anywhere with people was out of the question; people could easily mean wizards and what seemed like half the wizarding population of England worked for the Ministry, so, much to the slight disappointment of both of them, they had to settle for another place in the countryside, which, while in George words was ‘more boring than double History of Magic,’ it was at least safe. Then there was the actual part choosing which boring trees they were going to visit, and with the twins’ geography skills, they were struggling to find anything less vague than ‘that forest with the really tall trees.’ Eventually, they managed to come up with somewhere that Ron had mentioned; the Forest of Dean, which would be ok if Harry and the others had managed to keep hidden in it.
Apparating whilst holding onto each other, as Fred and George always did nowadays, they slung their backpacks onto their shoulders and spun, hoping they wouldn’t end up in limbo or anything.
With a slippery sound of two grown men being chucked down onto a bed of wet leaves, the twins landed.
‘Well done Fred,’ George said sarcastically, not bothering to get up from the forest floor. ‘With your great apparating skills and my ability to trust girls who practically have ‘evil’ written across their foreheads we could rule the world someday...’
‘Sure thing. And not to mention our culinary skills. We could put Jamie whatshisname to shame.’
‘Yeah. We should have asked Hermione to send him some of our pancakes. If she wasn’t gallivanting off to Australia, that is.’
The chat went on like this for a while, until the twins actually bothered to get up off the ground and ‘fixed’ the tent up, and by then it was almost dark and both Fred and George really couldn’t be bothered to do anything but sleep.
‘You realise,’ Fred began, adjusting his pillows, ‘we actually need to start looking for her tomorrow.’
George laughed. That was a bit of a failure; making pancakes wouldn’t exactly looking for someone. Not that he wanted to, but Fred was going to insist, and he couldn’t be bothered to argue.
Outside the tent, an owl hooted in the distance while the sound of Fred’s yawning filled the tent too, both twins unable to think straight enough to speak, and falling asleep, Fred still muttering about storms...

Great Job Sweety!

Hey! New reader!
This is a fantastic story! You are a really good writer. Very descriptive and entertaining.
Can't wait for more!
-Rachel

*really can't be bothered to say anything here*



‘Huh? What?’
George had awoken with a start in the middle of the night. Poking his head over the mess of blankets he was under, he looked around the tent with a bleary eye. It was completely dark except for the moonlight silhouetting a tree onto the canvas wall, and Fred was still snoring loudly in his sleep from the bed next to George’s. It couldn’t have been him that had woken George, but it was definitely something.

His remaining ear perked up, George jumped slightly at a sound from outside the tent. He was used to the rustle of leaves, crickets, birds and the occasional badger or fox, but this was a different noise. It sounded, if anything, human. This worried him a bit, random muggles didn’t just make noises in forests in the middle of the night... what if the ministry had tracked the twins down somehow?

The noise sounded again, like a whisper, very quiet but surely human. He sighed, something was definitely out there, and it wasn’t just George’s imagination. Taking a quick look around the tent, George jabbed his snoring twin in the ribs to wake him. He could deal with the noise on his own, but Fred would never be able to forgive him if it was Ministry people...

Several jabs and nudges later, Fred finally stirred, mumbling grumpily.
‘What?’ he moaned, sitting up, ‘are you mental George? It’s the middle of the bloody night...’
‘Someone’s out there,’ George muttered, trying not to be too loud or dramatic.
‘And...’ Fred replied, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to sink back into his pillow, ‘it was probably just a squirrel George.’
George glared. ‘Squirrels don’t whisper in English, Fred.’

That phrase was obviously good enough.

Wands lit, the twins poked their heads out of the tent’s excuse for a door, their faces getting used to the moonlight and the cold air.
‘Hello?’ George said quietly, sticking a slippered foot out of the tent, ‘anyone there?’
Fred was on the verge of rolling his eyes when a response came, causing both of the Weasleys to almost literally jump out of their skins, despite how quiet it was.

‘Y-yes. Who is it?’

‘Us,’ Fred said distractedly, following his twin out of the tent and round the back... ‘Uh, where are you?’

With a crunch of leaves, George saw a smallish dark figure get up from beside a tree, and walk over to them. It was definitely a human alright, and by their size, probably a child. With a look at each other, George opened his mouth.
‘Are you ok? Do you want to come into the tent with us?’ He began. So the chance that this person was magical was minimal, so Fred and George would be unable to use magic, but after they’d seen the inside of the tent, they would have to bloviate them anyway, and they couldn’t exactly tell them to stay outside in the cold. That was inhumane.
‘Well...’ they began ‘...it can’t hurt, I guess.’
The three figures, two towering over the other, walked back to the tent, trying to be as quiet as possible despite the fact there was nobody else out there to hear them. George reckoned it was something about the night that made them tiptoe into the canvas rather than walk in normally.
George showed the person a seat, and Fred lit the small tent lights with his wand. The gloom faded, the tent now a pale golden colour inside. Once it spread to the figure’s face, George gaped slightly. He figured it would be someone female from the voice, but someone a little older than... well... however old she was. Her eyes had the bloodshot look of someone who had been crying and hadn’t slept for weeks. Her frizzy brown hair was greasy and matted, making her look like a younger, more tired, and slightly prettier version of Hermione. The twins offered her a chair, which she sat in, and they flopped onto the sofa, facing her.
After a few slightly awkward seconds of silence, Fred spoke up.
‘What’s your name?’
Of all the questions George would’ve asked, that would have been pretty low on the list, certainly after ‘why the heck are you hiding in a forest?’ and ‘how come you didn’t react to our magic tent.’
‘Cassie,’ she replied, ‘well, actually Cassandra... but Cassie’s fine...’
Fred and George exchanged looks. Who in their right mind named their child Cassie?
‘What’s your surname Cassie?’ George asked coaxingly, trying to stay patient and alert despite the constant yawns he felt coming on.
She shrugged, making it quite obvious she wasn’t going to tell them for a while.
George gave Fred a look, the kind of look that said ‘she’s gonna be a stubborn one’ and Fred half nodded, surveying Cassie.
‘And why are you here?’ he asked, ‘don’t you want to be with your parents?’ he said, lowering his voice a little as if it were a taboo subject.
The look on Cassie’s face was enough to make both Weasleys feel a little guilty for asking. It was kind of obvious she didn’t want to answer, but eventually forced herself to.
‘They’re – they’re dead...’
George frowned, not wanting to say anything or having any response – nothing was helpful for the week that he lived without Fred, but Cassie seemed pretty strong, especially for a twelve-ish year old. But his head was literally bursting with questions.
‘I’m sorry...’ Fred began, but she shook her head.
‘Don’t be... they died for a good reason.’
Seeing the no longer polite, but just plain curious faces of the twins, she continued without a prompt.
‘My parents fought in the battle of Hogwarts – they weren’t aurors, but they were against all the pureblood stuff. My brother went too... and they were killed by Death Eaters. I had to go, I was only a first year, so they shunted me into Hogsmeade before I...’ she trailed off, and the twins knew to ask no more.
‘What house were – are you in? And shouldn’t you be at school,’ George piped up, lamely attempting to change the subject.
‘Ravenclaw,’ she nodded, ‘I was meant to stay with my grandparents, but I ran away,’ she smirked ever so slightly, ‘I’m not sticking with them and listening to their ‘comforting’ words,’ Cassie added darkly.
‘Woah,’ Fred said softly. ‘Thank Merlin you’re magic,’ he laughed shakily.
‘Yeah, but I’m not much good at it... or anything.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ George retorted, ‘the hat put you in Ravenclaw, brain box,’ he winked, but Cassie ignored it.
‘So now I’ve told you my story,’ she said, ‘you can tell me yours...’
Fred opened his mouth as if to say that was bribery, and they didn’t have to say a word, but George answered.
‘Long story,’ he chuckled for a second. ‘I’ll sum it up,’ he said, and Cassie nodded, ‘Well... this is harder than I thought, but I also fought in the battle. With Fred,’ he gestured at his twin, who was now tearing apart George’s rucksack in apparent search for something, ‘and my family, and Fred... well... you get the picture,’ he swallowed, Fred looked up and smiled slightly sympathetically at his twin. ‘I, well, spent a week at home, and went out to the forest. Where I met some weird girl,’ Cassie raised an eyebrow, ‘and she... well... told me I could swap something to get Fred back. Which I didn’t realise was my entire family’
‘You what?’ she asked, giving him a patronising look.
‘Yeah, that’s what Fred’s reaction was to start with, but he saw sense.’ George grinned at Fred, who was still digging through his bag, ‘We’re now looking for her... to swap back,’ his face fell, remembering he’d still not thought up a plan to keep Fred yet. ‘And the ministry are on our tails,’ he finished awkwardly.
‘Idiot,’ Cassie said absently, but not in a cruel way.
‘I know,’ he sighed... ‘but whatever. And what the heck are you looking for Fred. In my rucksack?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Fred grinned evilly.
‘What...’ George growled.
‘Just wondering what I say in my sleep. I know you write it down...’
George blinked. The little sneak, but it was very hard to keep secrets from your twin, and if he sleeptalked, he would’ve wanted to know what he muttered about in his sleep.
‘Aha,’ Fred grinned, finally pulling out the loose sheet of parchment, with George’s messy writing on it. ‘A storm is coming...?’ he puzzled, ‘what does that mean?’
George shrugged, ‘no idea. You say it a lot. You’ve been sleep talking a stupid amount since the ministry trip.’
Fred raised his arms and wandered round, pretending to be a sleepwalker. ‘A storm is coming,’ he muttered in a monotone mock-serious voice, as George laughed.
Cassie, however, frowned. ‘A storm you say,’ she looked more alarmed than confused. ‘Sure you heard that right?’
‘No.’ George said very sarcastically, ‘he actually said salad, he’s deadly afraid of salad... Yes, he said storm. Why?’
‘Oh, no reason,’ she replied, eyeing Fred as he dropped the sleepwalker-zombie act, but she didn’t seem reassured by that answer.

Ooooohh, awesome chapter!
I really have no clue what to say. I just can't wait for more!
-Rachel

Neat new chappie!

Awesome chapter, Georgie! =3
PAMS!