I'm sorry for taking such a long break from posting. I know that this is only the second chapter and already I'm taking such a long time to post, but please bear with me. There's a lot of things going on in my life. I'm just so busy, being a senior and all. So I'm really sorry. But I promise to try and post more often. SO, without much further ado... I present the second chapter of the story. I hope you guys like it.

Cold... That was the only word on George Weasley's mind as he opened his eyes and turned to look around him. It's so cold, he thought as he adjusted to his dim surroundings. The redhead blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the scene before him, but all he could see were grey and white figures swirling in the darkness.

"W-what-" he rasped, his throat dry. George tried to raise his hand to face, but the movement hurt so badly that he groaned in pain.

"George! George!" A voice cried out. George shook his head, his body aching all over. He groaned again as a face swam into focus. Brown hair, chestnut colored eyes... "Hermione?"

A sigh of relief pierced the stillness in the air. "Yes George. It's me... Get up, get up please. We have to go," the brunette replied. George's vision cleared, and he could see now where he was. Diagon Alley, he thought as Hermione reached for him. "What happened?" George asked, realizing that he was lying in the middle of an empty street, his clothes damp and muddy, Hermione kneeling in front of him her hair plastered onto her face. She was shaking him violently, trying to rouse him, and the look on her face made George shudder in fear.

"George, please! I can't hold it off any longer," she said trying to pull him off the floor. George's eyes widened as the events of the moments before came racing back to him. He sat up suddenly, his face deathly white. "The dementor!" He shouted trying to scramble up, his eyes simultaneously looking for his wand. George tried to stand, but the ache in his muscles and the throb in his head made him stumble back onto the pavement.

"George!" Hermione shouted as she grabbed hold of him. George slumped against her, his face shocked and pale as he realized that the blur of grey that he had seen only moments before was the image of a dementor's cloak coming swiftly towards them. "We have to go," Hermione said as she took George by the arm and tried to steer him away, while at the same time holding up her wand and pointing it at the fast approaching darkness. "Expecto patronum!" she shouted as a silver otter came speeding out of her wand.

The dementor backed away for a few seconds, but it seemed that Hermione, exhausted and losing focus, had been using the spell for way too long, since, moments after it was conjured, the patronus flickered and died. "No..." Hermione whispered to herself, before turning to George who was leaning against her for support. "George we have to move. Now!" she shouted as the dementor sped towards them. George, with a barely any strength left in him, moved crookedly in the direction that Hermione steered him towards.

They limped through the streets together, Hermione bearing most of his weight, as they took turns looking back to see the dementor trailing behind them. "We just need to make it to the shop," Hermione murmured, breathless from the effort of trying to hold the redhead up.

"Hermione..." George said, panting as he tried to lift his weight off of Hermione but to no avail. The dementor was speeding towards them, its only goal to attack.

"We can make it, George. Don't worry," she smiled, struggling to support him as she tried to send another weak patronus at the oncoming dementor, "now come one. Just a few more blocks."

The rain was still pouring heavily down onto the pair as they made their way towards the joke shop. George realized that they were both soaking wet, red and brown hair plastered onto both their faces, water streaming down around them. He could barely see in front of him, but George could clearly perceive the person who stood beside him.

Hermione, with her now dark brown hair strewn all over her face, had her eyebrows knit together as she tried to focus on getting them out of the rain. George could see the strain in her eyes and the pressure that he was putting on her as he limped through the streets. He could feel her heart vibrating through her chest and her lungs drawing in sharp and shallow breaths. Hermione was tired he knew, the patronus she had conjured to keep the dementor away from him combined with the effort it now took to lead his confused self home was enough to tire anyone out. But, she stayed vigilant, and tried with the best of her ability to get him into the joke shop.

"George!" Hermione shouted as he slipped from her grasp, falling right into a puddle of water. She bent over trying to help him, but the more she tried to pull him up, the more they struggled. Behind them, the dementor was fast approaching. Hermione turned towards him, her face contorted in worry. "Come on George!" she said, her face streaked with rainwater.

"Hermione, just leave. Now!" George shouted as a rush of bone-chilling cold air raced up his spine. It's getting nearer, he thought as he pulled away from Hermione. "Leave! Now! Go to the joke shop, I can make it. Don't worry," he said, knowing fully well that if Hermione left him, he would not be able to make it back to the joke shop alive.

"No, I won't leave you," she said, struggling to pull him up. "I've lost one Weasley already. I'm not about to lose another one. Please..." she said, her hand outstretched, her eyes asking him to grab it and go. But, George's world had frozen as the implications dawned on him.

Fred, he thought, his heart skipping a beat as he realized that this was his chance to be with him again. His brother, his twin, his other half, what George wouldn't give to see Fred again, what he wouldn't give to see his brother's smile and hear his laugh. George closed his eyes, shutting himself from the physical world before him. He could leave now if he wanted to. He could be with his brother again. He could be happy once more.

George imagined himself with his twin. They would be inseparable, if he chose to stay behind. The hole in his heart would be finally filled again, if he chose to stay behind. The pain in his chest would disappear, if he chose to stay behind. If he chose to stay behind...

"George!" a voice said, bringing him back to reality. George's eyes snapped open and he looked towards Hermione. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were wet and dripping. Around her the rain poured down and the streets flooded with water. On any ordinary day he would have been drawn to the sight of the droplets of water splashing onto the pavement, but the sound of Hermione's panicked but melodic voice drew him towards her. She was frightened, that much he knew, but her face showed no signs of terror, only compassion for the boy who wanted to be left behind. And in that moment George suddenly knew what to do. He had made his choice.

Comments? Suggestions?