A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for the QLFC and Hogwarts. :)

Chaser 2: The Hot Tub Time Machine (a chemical sent them to the past, so I'm making that a potion.)

Optional Prompts:

(emotion) gratitude

(word) mindless

(dialogue) "He didn't really like much else."

Religious Education Task 12: Write about a person who refuses to give up

Word Count: 2915

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.

Enjoy!

It was a bright spring day, but Roxanne Weasley found that she couldn't enjoy it. She sighed as she stared at the exterior of the house she shared with her parents and brother, wondering what might be waiting for her.

The sixteen-year-old walked through the door, pulling her sunglasses off and peeking into the kitchen with big, brown eyes. As she had suspected, her father was there, a half-eaten sandwich in his hands. Roxanne put a sunny smile on her face, approaching him slowly. His birthday had recently passed, and though George had clearly enjoyed it, he always had a tinge of sadness to his smiles on those days. It didn't help that the anniversary of his brother's death was steadily approaching.

"Hey, Dad," she greeted. "What are you doing?"

George looked over, his brown eyes glittering happily when he saw her. "Roxanne! Back from your trip with your friends, are you? I'm fine, fine. Thinking of Fred, you know, it's that time of year. Sorry if I seem a bit… distracted."

Roxanne pulled out a chair and sat next to her father. "Tell me about him," she requested. She asked him this every year, and every year George supplied a new answer.

"Well," George said thoughtfully, "he and I always loved pranking people—you know that."

Roxanne nodded. She blew a strand of dark, curly hair out of her eyes as she waited for her father to continue.

"Fred and I—we loved the thrill of it, you see. And nothing was better than making a first-year or two laugh." His smile turned wistful. "It was what I—we—lived for, that thrill. He didn't really like much else." George sighed, running a hand through his red hair, his freckled face softening. "That's probably why we liked the battlefield, too. That rush of adrenaline, and the feeling we were doing something right."

Roxanne smiled gently at the older man. She wished she had known her uncle, but sometimes hearing about him felt like enough. It seemed that, during this month when the memory of Fred was more present than it was the rest of the year, her father felt whole again. Roxanne was always careful with her father when his late brother came up. She'd never forgotten the day when she'd found him in the sitting room on his birthday, staring blankly down at a Weasley Christmas jumper with a large F stitched in the middle.

George looked wistfully down at his sandwich before glancing back up at his daughter. "Well, Roxanne, I'd better go find my mum. The day's coming up, and she always takes it rather hard." He grinned suddenly. "Think a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product will make her feel better?"

Roxanne snorted. "It'll distract her for a bit, maybe."

George laughed and tousled his daughter's hair. "Right you are. I'll have to think of a more permanent solution, then. Why don't you go see what Freddie's up to? 'M not sure Angelina wants him up alone in his room for much longer."

Roxanne grinned, then did as her father asked. She quickly ascended the stairs, knocking briefly on her brother's door. He was eighteen, but still hadn't moved out—Roxanne suspected it was because he had too many questionable substances that were difficult to sneak into an apartment.

Fred looked up when she came in, his red hair disheveled. "I love how you knock, but don't wait for permission to enter."

Roxanne shrugged, her dark fingers drumming against her thigh. "It's the principle of the thing, really. Dad wanted me to find out what you were up to."

Fred's freckled face brightened. "Haven't been working on anything, actually. I'm not experimenting today. But I found something in the attic."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "Thought Mum told you to stop looking up there."

Fred scoffed. "Nothing interesting would ever happen around here if we followed all the rules. Besides, this is something Uncle Fred must have been developing."

Curiosity piqued, Roxanne slunk forward, hands deep in her pockets. "Let's see it then, Fred-o."

Rolling his brown eyes at the nickname, Fred produced from behind his back a small flask. "This."

Roxanne was unimpressed. "But what is it used for?"

Fred shrugged. "No idea. There's a note on the back, but it just says 'if I ever need to go back'."

Roxanne took the bottle from her brother's pale, freckled hands. "Is it safe to drink?"

Fred shrugged. "As safe as any of Dad's unfinished products are, I suppose. Not deadly."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "No kidding," she deadpanned. "I meant, what are the odds of me ending up in St. Mungo's?"

Fred shrugged again, disinterested. "It can't be any worse than when Dad and Uncle Fred were trying out their Skiving Snackbox, can it? Since when have they made anything truly dangerous?"

Roxanne brought the flask to her lips, grinning at her brother. Perhaps it was the Gryffindor in her, or maybe she just wanted a reckless adventure to shake off the lingering sadness from her time with her father.

"Bottoms up."

Fred's smile faltered. "You're joking, aren't you? Roxanne?"

She took a swig, closing her eyes. The sweet flavor burst across her tongue, unaffected by its age. There was a fluttering in her stomach, and she felt momentarily dizzy.

Shouts sounded all around her, and her eyes shot open. Disoriented, she looked around, realizing with a start that she was in Hogwarts—or rather, some nightmarish version of it.

The hallways were choked with people, violent-colored spells flying all around them. The walls were partially crumbled in places, and there was broken glass on the ground. But it was the carnage that really scared her.

Roxanne stumbled backwards until her back hit the wall, her heart pounding as she looked around in confusion. This didn't make any sense. She'd just been in her house, and when she'd been at Hogwarts before she went on break, then school had been peaceful—

"Avada Kedavra!"

Roxanne's eyes widened when she saw the green light shoot past, flying past the wall. A moment later, she heard the dull thump of someone hitting the floor.

Her breathing was coming out in short gasps. She'd been taught a lot of defense in her life, but she'd never believed she'd have to actually use it. The old wars had been won long before she was born.

He went by so fast she nearly thought she'd imagined him. Them. Identical boys with red hair and more fire in their eyes than Roxanne had ever seen. In that instant, her mind began connecting the dots.

If I ever need to go back.

She followed them. At some point, Fred and George had been separated, and Percy had taken her father's place next to Fred. They wove through the battle expertly, dodging and firing a myriad of spells. Roxanne fears were being confirmed with every step; they were heading towards the Room of Requirement. She'd heard so many stories about it, though it had been destroyed in the Battle of Hogwarts. The most important thing about that room was that her uncle had died outside of it.

And the two were heading right towards it.

She saw it all play out exactly as they told her it had. Her uncles—looking so, so young—were all fighting the Death Eaters surrounding them, Uncle Percy made his joke—

But Fred never said his last words. At the last second, Roxanne rushed forward and tackled him away from the wall just as it exploded. The next thing she knew, everything was black.

"Hey, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Roxanne opened her eyes slowly. She could hear muffled shouting, but somehow she knew that, at least for the moment, she was safe.

As her adrenaline faded, her breathing became more labored, and she was more aware of her exhaustion. Her head was pounding painfully, and she groaned out loud when she saw the man leaning worriedly over her.

She sat up as quick as lightning, immediately regretting it. "Uncle Fred?"

He raised an eyebrow, crusted with blood from the battle, and Roxanne cursed her stupidity. "Fred, yeah, but I'm no uncle."

Roxanne was conflicted. On one hand, telling the truth might be easier—if Fred had developed the potion, then he'd believe what she said when he showed it to her. Then again, she didn't want to muck up the future any more than she already had. She felt cold all of a sudden. Uncle Fred, she remembered, had taken her mother to the Yule Ball. What sort of consequences would that bring about?

But if she stayed silent, then she might never get home. She needed to know how to get back, and Fred was the only one who knew.

From within the pocket of her jacket, Roxanne produced the flask. Wordlessly, she handed it over to the man.

He tilted his head when he saw it, then read the note on the back, eyes widening.

"Oh," he murmured. "I see." He looked at her excitedly. "So, you're my niece? Whose kid are you? Wait, hang on a moment. You look like Angelina! Which means—" Fred positively beamed. "Oh, I knew ol' Georgie could do it! Wait until—but what are you doing here?"

Roxanne couldn't help it; she laughed. This whole situation was absurd. She was in 1998, speaking with her dead uncle, whose life she had just saved. Oh, she needed to get home. Who knew the sort of damage she had done to the future?

"I'm Roxanne," she said simply. "And I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I wasn't supposed to—you're not supposed to—"

Understanding dawned in the other man's eyes, and he lost some of the light in them. "Ah. I see." He shook his head suddenly. "Well, what's done is done. No going back now." His eyes softened. "We need to get you home."

"But how?"

"All you need to do is drink from the bottle in the same spot you appeared. Do you know where that is?"

Roxanne swallowed, thinking back to the moment she had appeared in this time. "I—I think so," she murmured. "But it was in a pretty battle-heavy area."

Fred nodded thoughtfully. "We'll need assistance, then." He clapped his hands together. "Don't worry, my beautiful Roxanne. I'll get you home to your devilishly handsome dad."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow, some of her swagger coming back when she heard the joke.

"You two may be twins, but there's only one devilishly handsome Weasley."

Fred's eyes sparkled. "And who might that be?"

"Uncle Bill."

Fred burst out into surprised laughter, and Roxanne was overwhelmed by the utter familiarity of the sound. Her uncle clapped her on the shoulder, then helped her up; she hadn't even realized that she was sitting against the wall of an abandoned classroom.

"How—"

"You hit your head in the blast, so I brought you here," Fred explained. He frowned suddenly. "We must have looked pretty dead, because when I came to my brothers were gone."

He must have seen the worry on her face, because he clapped her on the shoulder. "They're fine; I can tell. Let's get you home, Roxanne."

She'd always heard that the battle had just been mindless killing, but she hadn't truly understood what that meant until she was in the thick of things.

There was no rhyme or reason to it. Spells were being thrown left and right, and duellers were only concerned with their opponent—they seemed not to notice if their spells hit the wrong target.

There were screams and bangs, and Roxanne knew without a doubt that if she hadn't been surrounded by Dumbledore's Army, she'd have hit the ground by now. Running alongside her on her right, Anthony Goldstein flashed her a smile.

"Don't worry," he shouted over the din, throwing a curse over his shoulder, "we'll get you there safely!"

His blue eyes were alight with confidence, but Roxanne wasn't so sure. She knew now why her parents' wands were always close at hand, and why wards were put in place every evening. This was carnage, and the odds were against you.

She'd never longed for her brother's voice so much.

Anthony steered her through the halls of Hogwarts, working in sync with Luna Lovegood and Ernie MacMillan. Fred was behind her, covering the rear, and Roxanne couldn't help but want to shake him.

I saved your life once, she thought to herself. Don't you dare make this for nothing.

Wand in hand, Roxanne cast her own curses, her legs moving faster than they ever had before. She knew that the battle had been thrilling for her father, but all she could feel was terrified. But maybe he'd grown into it. Maybe it had been a long time coming, and he had been exposed to war before, never thrust right into the thick of things.

Or maybe she just wasn't as brave as him.

Anthony put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "We're here," he told her, his face flushed from their sprint.

The others were keeping the enemy off their backs, wands moving at lightning speed. Roxanne fumbled for the bottle, her hands trembling. She glanced around, unsure of what she was looking for. Then Fred came forward, and words spilled out of her mouth.

"What if I've mucked things up?" she asked wildly. "What if I've ruined the future?"

Fred smiled, but it was different from his usual, flippant grin. "Then fix it."

"Oh, sure," Roxanne replied, irritation bubbling up inside her. "Because that's so easy!"

His freckled face sympathetic, Fred took her hands in his. "I don't know what the future was supposed to be, but my life has obviously changed it. Just focus on making your life the best it can be, all right? And if that means coming back here and stopping yourself from tackling me… then I need you to do that."

Anthony shouted a warning, but Roxanne had to stay for just a moment longer. She pulled her uncle into a hug, trying to memorize the tightness of his shoulders and each freckle on the back of his neck.

He embraced her in return, then pushed her away. "Take the potion," he ordered, "before it's too late! And don't worry—we'll see each other again. I can just tell."

Roxanne took a sip, her heart heavy. She felt the effects of the potion, and looked up. "Wait! I never asked why you made this in the first place."

Fred's smile was sad. "I made it before coming here—I didn't want to lose George. He's always been the more sensible of the two of us."

That was the last thing she heard before it all went black.

"Roxanne? Are you okay? Roxanne?"

Roxanne opened her eyes. She was back in her brother's room, holding the flask by her face. She blinked, disoriented. "W-what?"

Fred peered at her worriedly. "Did the potion do anything?"

"Huh?"

"Did the potion do anything?"

"No," she lied. "No, but I feel a bit sick. It probably isn't safe to drink."

She surveyed her brother carefully, trying to see if there were any differences. She didn't find any. Part of her was relieved, but the other part was sorely disappointed.

"Well, that's that, I guess. Pity. Uncle Fred and Dad always did make the most amazing things. Speaking of, we've got to get downstairs for dinner, or Mum'll kill us."

Numbly, Roxanne followed Fred. They entered the kitchen, and she stopped in her tracks.

George was laughing at another man, a man who looked suspiciously like—

"Uncle Fred?"

The older man turned, and by his beam he knew exactly why she was so shell-shocked.

"Roxanne! I was just telling your old man that I wanted to speak with you. Freddie, go help your Mum with the table, or she'll have all our heads."

George grinned at his brother. "That's a scary thought, right there. You know, I think I have some Firewhiskey out back. Want some?"

"Always," Fred replied promptly with a grin. Once his brother was gone, he turned to Roxanne. He held out his arms, and Roxanne ran to him.

"You're here," she said, surprised. "Merlin, you're really here!"

"I am," Fred agreed. "And I have you to thank for that. How rude of me, not to mention it earlier." His smile turned more tender. He led her into the sitting room, where the firewood in the hearth was crackling merrily. From the shelves above the mantle, he pulled out a thick black photo album. Roxanne took it, flipping through pictures from days she didn't remember, many with Fred in them.

"I can't believe that I nearly missed out on this life," he said softly. "You really are a Weasley, you know. We look out for our own, and you've certainly done that."

Roxanne felt guilty. "But I didn't, not really. It was an accident that I ended up there."

"Funny, that," Fred said lightly, winking at her. "You see, the potion only brings you to an event you think about, whether you've been there or not."

She looked up at him, a grin spreading across her face. "Then I guess you should thank Dad. He's the one who reminded me of you."

Fred rolled his eyes. "George's ego doesn't need inflating; he's already got a wife and two kids. Now, come on. It's time to eat."

They went to rejoin their family, which was, for the very first time, completely whole.

A/N: Prompts:

Writing Club:

Character Appreciation: 28. (spell) Avada Kedavra

Disney Challenge: Characters 6. Lumiere — Write about someone on the light side of the war.

Showtime: 7. One Song Glory — (emotion) desperation

Amber's Attic: 1. Tupac Shakur — Write about the Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledore's Army (5 point bonus)

Lyric Alley: 12. But it still hurts

Em's Emporium: 1. Alt. (character) Anthony Goldstein (bonus five points)

Angel's Arcade: 2. Johnny Gat — (object) sunglasses, (word) swagger, (trait) sarcastic

Lo's Lowdown: Characters 4. Percy — Write about someone who likes to experiment

Bex's Basement: 7. Jenny — Time Travel

Film Festival: 9. (object) Christmas jumper; 11. (object) firewood