And you're back for more twin action! Shutting up now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I own Annwn though. No, that's a lie. Ha. I think Celtic mythology does though, you'd have to ask.

Warnings: Stuff!

Note: Annwn is the name for the Celtic underworld. Just in case some of you were confused by the uh, disclaimer thing. Which also ties into that whole Inferiorum thing.

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Doppelganger

Part the Second

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Fred got better over the course of a few days.

The man who had frightened George badly the first time he saw him, was a hermit. He lived in a home that had been made by hollowing out one of the hills. After questioning George vigorously (even though it was quite clear that George couldn't understand most of the questions) twice, he decided that George and Fred were not demons, nor part of 'the Enemy', or any number of things he thought for the first few weeks, he decided that it was okay to take them in.

He had Fred and George change out of their wet things into some of his own clothes. (Which were two big for the twins and they kept tripping over their own sleeves.) He piled blankets over Fred and gave him soup and hot tea. Fred complained about the heat.

"Aye, but you'll need to break that fever." The hermit explained as he put a hand on Fred's forehead. George sat in a chair right next to Fred at first but it was night time and he soon got too sleepy, and so crawled into bed with his brother and fell asleep.

After a few days, Fred was well enough to be out and about. The twins decided to stay there with the hermit instead of going on. The hermit didn't seem to mind them at all. In fact, he was always reminding them that danger was always all around them at any time.

"Keep your eyes and ears open. Constant vigilance!" The hermit would slap his hand on the table and make Fred and George both jump.

They had tried to explain to the hermit would had happened, that their mother had put them on a cart and that bad men chased them through a field. They knew that their mother had told them to find someone but unfortunately, they couldn't remember the name.

"Probably a relative." The hermit would rub his chin. "Unless of course it wasn't really your mother and just someone who looked like your mother…"

The twins were too young to really understand what he meant and so they thought he was trying to make them laugh. So they laughed for him. They kept trying to make him laugh.

As they grew older, they kept trying this but their methods grew more and more mischievous. When they were seven, they thought that a water bucket (that they had to get from the well), placed in a certain position over a partially opened door (they had to stand on the rocking chair, that had a stool on it to do this.) would do the trick. The hermit was doused with water and had been so shocked that he pulled out several knives from his pockets while Fred and George broke into peals of laughter. The hermit, when he discovered it was a joke, told them sharply that he had seen people die that way.

By this time, Fred and George knew not to take him seriously. No one else did.

They discovered this when they were six and some visitors showed up at the cave. The hermit had nearly had a heart attack and the two, a man and a woman, had merely shrugged at him.

"No 'arm meant." The man, who was about the same age as the hermit held up his hands sheepishly. "'onestly, you aught to be a little less vigilant…"

"Less vigilance would have gotten me killed ten years ago!" The hermit defended himself.

The man that came, who always smelled of some strange scent that later Fred and George recognized as alcohol, was one of their favorite people. He had all sorts of funny stories to tell them, ones that would make his eyes water with laughter as he told it to them. They'd listen eagerly, hearing about all the mischief he got himself into.

The woman who came with him would beat him over the head with a bag. She was a batty older lady, who wore slippers everywhere, had a bag full of cat food, and often had a cat or two following her around. She would always scold the man who smelt of alcohol about teaching them bad lessons.

One of the more memorable times would be their thirteenth birthday (for though they weren't sure when their birthday was, they celebrated the day that the old hermit took them in), when he brought them alcohol. They had only gotten a small taste before they had all three been discovered. Later, the woman would look back and laugh, remembering the identical expressions of all three.

Growing up in the cave and the hills had its downsides. They learned there what they had never known. The reason their mother had to send them away. The hermit decided not to lie to them and explain what he suspected. That their mother didn't want to give them up but had to.

"Because you're identical twins." The hermit told them. "You would have been sent to be processed." This was at the age of nine, and Fred and George both had no idea what 'processed' meant. The hermit could tell by their blank faces. "You would have been sent away and most likely killed.

"She was probably trying to save your lives. Unfortunately, something went wrong. You said she wanted you to find someone?" The hermit raised his eyebrow at them.

"You must remember to find…"

Neither Fred nor George could remember the name. They were too little when they heard it and now it had been too long. If only they could remember. But their memories of their mother were so few. They remembered a woman with a kind, round, face, smiling at the two of them.

But they also remembered the last time they saw her and how sad she looked.

When they got to be a little older, they would talk about it. They would sit there, sometimes at the very same little river they had hidden in, and throw stones in there and talk about her, and why she had looked so sad. Giving them up must have been hard. Remembering that she had been sad made them know she loved them, that she hadn't wanted to.

Sadly, they had no idea what direction their house was in. It was just too far. They couldn't remember her name, because she had never told them her name, she was just their mother. That was all she had to be.

They were very careful when they went out to close to the road on the other side of the woods and the meadows. They had gotten scarves and hats and would wrap scarves around their shoulders, so that they covered their mouths, and wide-brimmed hats, pulled down, so that it was very hard to see their faces.

Unlike some twins, they never went their separate ways; they never grew into different things. They liked the same things, or maybe just near enough the same things that they never noticed a difference. They thought up elaborate pranks to pull on the hermit and made up a thousand games to play in the hills.

The blue sky above them, the green hills spread out before them, they would always remember this time fondly. But when their thirteenth birthday came, they felt a sudden pull.

Perhaps it was the alcohol man with his tales of things he had done in the big cities and what not that drove them to be curious about the world. Maybe it was a hundred different things. They knew that somewhere there was something waiting for them. A round, kind face. And brothers.

It wasn't so often that they brought up the brothers. It was hard to remember them too, but they knew they existed. There had been one who was always separating them as a punishment, the one who had taught them how to swim, and then another one, who was comforting and loving. The one who had explained to them why there were arguments between their mother and father. And they felt that there was one other one…a very small one who could only be carried about.

But for some reason, both of the twins felt uncomfortable talking about their other brothers. It was like they were some dream they had and that George and Fred, who had always been together, were the only real ones. Often, the subject would end and one, or maybe both at the same time, though they'd never confess it, felt jealousy that there were other brothers. They didn't think of anyone else the way they thought of each other.

But eventually, at the age of thirteen, they decided they were too old for the cave. They were too old for the hermit, who, while never learning to really laugh and relax, did learn that any partially opened doors were dangerous. They wanted to see the world that the two visitors described. Big cities and roads and villages and interesting people and all sorts of things.

"'Cause the most important thing is to laugh." George told Fred one day as they were sitting up in a tree next to each other and watching the sunset. "We've had some bad times…but if you laugh at them, they're not so bad, are they?"

"We'll make everyone laugh!" Fred agreed with an ambitious look in his eye. "You won't have bad times around us!" They laughed for a little bit at their own antics. And so, with this thought, they set out one early morning, very discretely so that the old hermit wouldn't stop them.

They set out onto the road, towards other people, who might recognize them.

At first, it did feel like a grand adventure. The two of them, dressed alike, scarves and hats on, and carrying their individual bags slung over their shoulders, whistling the exact same tune.

There were very little songs around the old hermit. He never sang. Sometimes, when the man who smelled of alcohol had too many drinks, he would sing very silly songs but the twins had never really bothered to learn them.

The one song they did know was a soft, lilting tune, that sounded like something you might sing to someone if you were putting them down to sleep. They both knew it was the song their mother used to sing to them.

It was a comfort and a familiarity. If Fred or George woke up from a nightmare, the other one would always be there to hold them close and hum the tune of the song until they went back to sleep.

After a day and a half of walking though, the whistling died down and the chatter among the two boys had stopped. They were rather tired of all the walking but they kept on going. At the end of the second day, they spotted something far down the road. They couldn't be exactly sure what it was but they knew they would find out tomorrow. When they got up the next day and began walking again, they were delighted to see that it was a walled city.

And what a city it was! Fred and George had never seen anything like it. Roofs peaked out over the thirty foot stone walls, the gates looked as though they needed many men to close them, and it was surrounded by flat green countryside all around it. Distantly, the two twins could see something behind the city, a group of peaks that disappeared into the clouds above them. The Mountains of the North.

"Halt." A sharp command made both the twins stop before they could go into the gates. One of the Guard—which Fred and George didn't know very well because they had only heard about the Guard, had not actually ever seen one. They could tell that the uniforms were just as the batty woman had described them.

"Those horrid white and red uniforms…mocking the Royal Guard."

"What is your business in the city of Fal?" The guard asked them. Fred and George looked at each other, exchanging blank looks.

"Er, well…" Fred began to try to think of something smart. "We've been traveling for days and so…"

"So we're looking for shelter and food." George added in a very believable tone.

"Then you may proceed—but remember that Fal punishes criminals heavily." The guard gave them a stern look, and their faces broke out into what they clearly thought were winning smiles.

"Aye-aye." Fred saluted.

"Wait." The guard grabbed Fred's shoulder. "Undo your scarves and take off those hats. I don't trust men who don't show their faces."

"We can't." George grabbed Fred's other arm and pulled him away from the Guard. "We've got hideous faces."

"Absolutely frightening." Fred added on, nodding his head.

"We'll give you nightmares for weeks." George finished and they both felt pleased with their answer.

"That is not a reason. Take off those hats and scarves." The guard barked at them once more.

"Looks like the man means business, George." Fred had a defeated tone to his voice. "Looks like we'll have to show him our faces."

"Exactly." George agreed in the same defeated tone. They both looked at each other and exchanged winks that only they could see. Fred whipped off his hat and scarf quickly while George ran past. The guard failed to notice a second to late as he had been preoccupied with seeing Fred's face.

"Hey! You stop!" The guard blew yelled and the guards standing there looked like they were going to go after George. "And you—"

Fred dove between the guard's legs and scrambled away. The guard went to grab him but the thirteen year-old Fred was a little too quick for that. The Guards started to come after Fred instead but were confused when they lost sight of Fred for just a moment and saw him a second later in a different part of the crowd.

"Which way do we go captain?" One guard asked the guard in charge.

"Oh, forget them. They're probably just lousy street urchins." The captain decided not to waste any time on so minor a threat. They had far more important matters to attend to as it was.

Fred ran through the crowd, wondering where he and George were supposed to meet up. He pulled his hat over his red hair and wrapped the scarf around himself and glanced about.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Fred instinctively turned with a grin. There was George. He wasn't wearing his scarf and hat but had them firmly clutched in his hands.

"Cheers, brother." George declared.

After congratulating each other on such a daring escape, they went about trying to find somewhere to use as a home. They had no money so getting a room at an inn was out of the question. Several places offered them jobs in exchange for room and board but Fred and George were not interested in working.

They found a house that was boarded up and empty. There were several of these around and sometimes people bought them and started businesses but sometimes they just sat there. This one had been empty for quite some time.

They found that there were stairs going up it on the outside for someone to get down. It was four stories high and Fred and George both agreed that the top story would be the best because then they could look out over the city.

"Plus, someone's bound to notice us if we're going in and out of the ground floor." Fred pointed out as they surveyed the house carefully, not wanting to attract anyone's unwanted interest.

So they waited until it was dark and made their way up the stairs that ended when they reached the fourth floor and broke the wet and weak boards in front of the window. Then they carefully pulled up the window and got inside. It was dark and there were pieces of debris lying about, as there is in every attic, but it was dry and warmer than outside.

"Kind of a dump." George nudged a glass bottle with his foot that he could see from the small amount of light coming in through the window.

"I love it though." Fred took his brother's hand.

"Me too." George squeezed Fred's hand.

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Stealing came to them very naturally. They didn't even usually refer to it as 'stealing'. They liked to refer to it as 'scrumping.' ("I've scrumped us breakfast.") It wasn't as though they hadn't been taught that stealing was wrong but if they hadn't stolen anything, they would have starved to death. Of course, they could have gotten jobs, but they couldn't bear the idea of not being able to do just what they liked every day.

They already had blankets; they had taken those with them when they had left the old hermit's. They went out for food and also to walk around the city together. Every day, they went about, usually munching on whatever food they had expertly stolen and looking. Looking for that kind, round face. They hadn't admitted it out loud, but they knew they were looking for it deep down in their hearts.

The other street urchins didn't really like them because Fred and George didn't look for alliances or particularly try to make friends with any of them. The two boys knew that they could rely on each other during carefully plotted plans and trusted the other one when it came to escape plans that sometimes became necessary.

And so this was how they spent their days, sometimes forming elaborate plans for stealing things, or watching the crowds. Occasionally, they found there was a way to sneak into the opera house and they would watch operas from the rafters. There was always something to see in Fal. Some procession would go through and visit any of the huge houses in the rich part of town, or street performers would entertain anybody who walked by.

But one day, they saw something that was really worth seeing.

They had just gotten breakfast and were finishing it up as they walked around, discussing what they would do that day when Fred turned his head sharply. George tried to follow his gaze but couldn't see what his brother was looking at that was so interesting.

"What is it?" George questioned him but Fred only took off in answer. George was right behind him as they rushed through the crowds, dodging and weaving around people. George didn't know what Fred was after.

Until Fred stopped and George had to stop quickly to avoid knocking into him. George saw over his shoulder. There was someone facing away from them, buying meat from a meat vendor. The person wasn't very tall, in fact, the person was very young. The thing that had caught Fred's eye, and George's now, was this person's hair. The bright red locks that tumbled past this person's shoulders.

As the person turned away from them again and started to walk away, holding a few parcels filled with raw meat, Fred went forward, George with him, to put a hand on the girl's (for there was little doubt that it was a girl) shoulder. She turned for half a moment and they saw her deep brown eyes, framed in long lashes, and the freckles sprinkled over her nose. But then her eyes widened and she ran away and into the crowd.

The twins went straight after her.

"Wait! Stop!" George called out to her but she didn't stop, she went right on running, her parcels swinging on her arms as she suddenly turned and disappeared into an alleyway.

The two boys followed her and chased her down a maze of alleys until at last, the girl turned into one alley only to find it was a dead end. There was no one else around as she turned, trembling slightly as she did so but she looked right at them as they caught up. Even though she was only eleven, and small, there was some determined strength about her, radiating off in waves. She was small, but if she had to fight, she would.

"Finally." Fred straightened up after catching his breath. They were both looking at her bright red hair and freckles with great fascination. She looked from one to the other, not knowing what to make of them.

George took off his hat and unwrapped his scarf slowly. As he did so, the girl's eyes widened further.

"You…you look like us." George stated and she stared at him in open mouth disbelief.

"Who…who are you?" She asked in much the same tone. She was clearly astonished, with her mouth hanging open even when she wasn't speaking. "You look like one of my brothers…"

Fred took off his scarf and his hat at this moment. Instantly the girl took a step back and her face showed that she was frightened.

"Demons!" She backed up against the wall, looking as though she desperately wished she could climb it. "You're demons!"

"No, we aren't demons." Fred shook his head. "We're just regular people!"

"But you're…you look just alike!" She pointed a finger at them as though they hadn't realized it before. They glanced at each other and then back at her. "I heard that if you see…twins, it means you'll die the next day!"

"That's not true." George shrugged easily. "The hermit we used to live with never died."

"But…that's what my master said." She seemed to be struggling with this. "I've never seen twins before…everybody says it's unlucky. It's even a saying…you know, 'Unlucky as a pair of twins.'"

"We're not unlucky, I'm Fred and he's George." Fred gestured to his twin.

"No, I'm Fred." George claimed and the girl blinked a few times in confusion.

"No, I am!" Fred took a threatening step towards his brother. "You're George."

"Oh, yeah?" And George and Fred proceeded to tackle each other and engaged in obviously staged fight that stopped abruptly when they heard a small tinkling laugh. They looked up at her with grins. The red-haired girl, with her stained grey dress and smudged white apron, was laughing.

They didn't know it then, but they would soon come to find out that it was the first time she had laughed in three years.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She stopped, wiping at her eyes. "I didn't mean to laugh at you but you were too funny and you remind me of…" She looked at them. "I don't really think you're demons…you just frightened me a little. When you chased me down like that…awful things happen in big cities, you can't blame me for running."

"It's alright." Fred helped George up. "I'm really Fred."

"And I'm really George." George stuck a hand out at the same time that Fred did "Let's shake and be friends."

"Alright." She took their hands. "Twins might really be unlucky, but that's okay, because I've always been unlucky." The three looked at each other and some might say that it was instinct and others would have dismissed the notion altogether but they knew they belonged together.

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To Be Continued

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