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You've got troubles, well I've got 'em too

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

we stick together and we see it through

You've got a friend in me

You've Got a Friend in Me, Randy Newman

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"And now we're here, and trying to get back home," finished Fred. George and him had taken the two boys back into the kitchens and explained as little to them as possible, being especially careful to leave out anything about Harry's parents. It wasn't their place to tell him about that, and they really didn't want to burden him with unnecessary information.

"Wow," said Ron, his eyes shining. "Are you going to save everybody now?"

"Um. We're going to go back in time and make things right all over again," said George. "If that's what you mean."

It wasn't, though. George could see that.

"But what about us?" asked Ron.

"You'll all just go back to normal," said Fred hurriedly. "This world isn't even supposed to exist, and we're just going to go and fix it."

"So you're saying I'm not real?" asked Ron, his temper clearly starting to flare.

"No, I didn't say that, but-"

"But you're just going to leave us," Ron interrupted.

"Once we fix things, you aren't even going to remember this," said Fred. "It's not like we're leaving the world in shambles."

"What if I don't want to forget, though? You're going to take away hundreds of peoples lives, and they don't even get a say in it!"

George could see where his brother was coming from, but he didn't care. This stupid world wasn't even supposed to exist, and they wouldn't be taking away anyone's lives. They'd be giving them back... unless you counted the people killed by Voldemort. But most of them were enslaved in this world anyway.

He shook his head to clear it. No matter who was dead and who was alive, the world wasn't supposed to be like this, and him and Fred had to change it back.

"Ron," pleaded George, trying to make his brother see sense. "We couldn't help, anyway. We're just two people."

"But-"

"Is my mum free?" Harry asked softly, interrupting Ron. "In the other world, is she free?"

George froze.

"Wait. You know about that?"

"My dad told me, yeah," said Harry. "Ron knows, too."

"Bloody hell, what'd you tell Ron for?" Fred asked. "That's dangerous."

"I'd never give Harry up," Ron protested.

"I trust him," answered Harry simply. "But can you please tell me if my mum is free. Because if she is, I don't care what happens to this world, as long as she's okay."

"Well," Fred said, coughing slightly. He looked at George with pleading eyes, but George didn't know what to say either. They needed Harry on their side when Ron was acting so crazy, but lying to him? That was cruel, and wrong, and... and they had to do it.

"She's fine," George finally said. "Actually, she was Head Girl her final year at Hogwarts, and she became a huge hero in the war against Voldemort after that."

Harry smiled a little, and George felt terrible for telling him that, but it had to be done. Otherwise he'd start asking them to stay, too, and George really didn't want that. Staying wasn't an option.

"I knew she'd be brilliant if she got the chance to be," said Harry, his green eyes gleaming proudly. Guilt burned white hot in George's chest.

"But Harry, everything is going to be completely different if they go and change things again," protested Ron glumly.

"You'll still be best friends," said Fred. "Maybe even closer than you are now."

"Really?" their brother asked hopefully. Thankfully that was enough to get him to quit glaring, anyway.

"Yeah, really. So things won't be all that bad."

"I still wish that you'd stay and help us," he said.

"You don't need our help," said Fred. "Now we really have to get to potions, so we'll see you later. And I don't think we need to remind you not to tell anyone."

"We aren't stupid," said Ron.

"That's debatable," George joked. He paused, then asked, "And speaking of stupid, what did you do to get Ginny to treat you like the back end of a hippogriff?"

Ron looked down at his feet, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Whatever 'it' was.

"Harry's dad is kind of known for not treating Muggleborns 'as they should be treated'. She just doesn't like that I hang out with him."

"Ah. And that's why Fred and I didn't have the best relationship with him either?"

"Partly," said Ron nervously. There was more, George could tell, but he wasn't interested in prying. He'd found out enough bad things about himself. He didn't need any more.

"Alright," he said, and then him and Fred left to go to potions.

….

George snuck out onto the grounds by himself later that night, his bell clutched tightly in his hand. Despite Fred's assurances, he wasn't sure about Lee. His best friend had been completely dead when he'd summoned him earlier that morning, and it scared the crap out of him.

Once he was far enough away from the school that he was confident he wouldn't be caught, he rang the bell, then waited. Lee immediately appeared in front of him, emancipated and clearly unhealthy.

"You okay?" George asked him. The only response that he received was a pair of dark black pools peering at him emotionlessly. "Hungry?"

More emotionless peering. George dug into his cloak and pulled out a paper bag he'd gotten from Lily. He pulled out a fried chicken sandwich, doused in barbecue sauce, with lettuce and tomatoes on top. Lee's favorite.

The shell of his best friend reached up and grabbed the sandwich, looked at it, then took a tentative bite. Something flashed in his eyes then, just for a moment, and he almost looked blissful.

"Made specially for you," said George. Lee took another bite, chewed carefully, and then looked at George.

"Why?"

"Because no one deserves to be treated like you were, and this is my pathetic way of trying to make it up to you," he answered honestly, not caring that it was suspicious. He felt bad for his friend, and he wasn't going to make it worse by playing a jerk.

The slave took a couple more slow, methodical bites while George waited for an answer.

"You're not like the Weasley twins I have heard about," he finally said.

"I have an explanation for that," said George. "But I probably shouldn't tell you without my brother's consent."

"You're not the real twins, are you?" he asked, those dark eyes seeming to peer into George's soul. In them he could see more sorrow and suffering than any human being should have to bare. It nearly made him sick.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

"Are you here to save us?" he pressed desperately.

George looked away from his old friend and looked out into the forest, trying to think of what he could possibly say. He wanted to tell him everything, but Fred seemed so sure that it'd be a huge risk to tell their slaves anything. It would be, too, with them in the custody of their mother. Maybe later. Sometime.

"Lee," he whispered finally. "I can't tell you yet, but I will soon. I just want you to know that you can trust us, and that you can ask me if you need anything. I really need to be getting back, but if you want something…"

"I'm okay for now," he said, polishing off the last of his sandwich. "And I won't say anything, either. And good luck, doing whatever it is that you're trying to do."

Why does everyone think that we're their saviors?

"Thanks," said George, and then Lee disappeared. He started back to his room, then decided that he could do with some food of his own first. The redhead snuck back into the castle, and was just reaching up to tickle the portrait of the pear when the painting swung open.

A familiar head of red hair stepped out.

"Holy crap, George! You scared me!" Ginny screeched, a cookie in her hand. She was already wearing a pair of silk polka dot pajamas, and her hair was hanging in wet strands around her face. She even had on a pair of bunny slippers.

He was shocked, but managed to get over it enough to tease her, anyway.

"That's my goal in life. Cute outfit by the way. I'm going to need a pair of those slippers for myself."

"Oh, bugger," she said as she moved a hand up to cover her face. Probably because her hair wasn't done or something like that. "Do not look at me. I'm not decent!"

He laughed amusedly, more than surprised that his bitchy sister was acting almost like normal Ginny.

"Alright. I'm not looking. But what were you doing in the kitchens?"

Her face turned defensive, but there was something not quite right about her eyes. George tilted his head to get a closer look at her, but she backed away and roughly snapped, "Nothing. I was just getting food. Now quit acting like such a moron and just go do whatever you were going to do."

"Wow. Okay, okay. It's not like I care whether you have makeup on or not," he muttered, then left his red-faced sister behind and climbed into the kitchens to grab his food.

George's first classes passed quickly the next day, and lunch was boring, as always, with Cassius spending the entire time talking about Quidditch tryouts that night. It seemed like hardly any time passed at all when they stepped into Battle Training.

James instructed the class to take a lap, and then he said that they were starting on stations. They were to break off into groups of four, and then rotate between dueling, boxing, and wrestling every twenty minutes.

Fred and George went with Cassius and Jared, both of them more than a little nervous that they were going to get themselves killed.

They quickly realized that their fears were unfounded. Cassius and Jared partnered together in everything, leaving Fred and George to do their worst at the stations without worrying about humiliating themselves. They were tired when class was done, but at least they were in one piece.

"Mister Weasley and Mister Weasley, please stay after," James said to them as the other students filed out. Fred and George faked annoyance, then hurried back to the teacher when the other students had left.

"Do the two of you know about the Room of Requirement?"

"Um. No."

"Very well. On the seventh floor, there is a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy trying to teach trolls how to do ballet. To get into the room, you are to pace back and forth in front of it three times, thinking that you need a place to discuss something privately. A door will appear, and that will give you entrance to the Room of Requirement."

"Um. Okay. Is that where we're meeting?"

"Yes, and we shall continue to meet there as well. It is the safest place in the school that we can think of. Dumbledore and Grindelwald do not even know of its existence."

George wasn't so sure about that, but if James believed that it was the safest place in the school, he wasn't going to argue with him.

"Alright. What time?"

"Eight o'clock. I expect to see you then."

"We've got Quidditch tryouts at seven. Can we meet a half hour later instead?"

"Okay, fine. Eight thirty. Now you should leave."

"Well, actually, do you have a moment, Professor?" Fred asked.

"Sure. Why?"

"Um. Your son and our little brother kind of found it necessary to use an invisibility cloak to listen in on our conversation with Riddle earlier," said George.

"Harry knows!" James asked, his eyes widening with shock and horror, maybe even fear.

"And Ron, unfortunately. Don't blame us, though. Riddle didn't know they were there, either. We've already explained everything to them, so you don't have a reason to worry."

James ran a hand through his inky hair.

"Okay. I'm not mad. I'll, I'll talk to Harry again just to make sure that he understands the importance of this. You guys shouldn't hang around any longer, though. It's kind of suspicious."

With that, the twins left him.

…..

Four hours of essays and studying later, they were standing outside with Cassius, Draco, and Roger. There was a crowd of boys in front of them, mostly second through fourth years.

Cassius gave a quick speech, then divided the boys into two separate groups, one for potential keepers, the other for chasers. Fred, George, and Draco were sent to help the chasers.

Draco, who was the only one who actually knew what to do, ordered the chaser hopefuls into a line, to see how they could shoot. Fred would toss them a quaffle, and then they'd charge at Draco, who was filling in as keeper, and try to score. After the line was finished, the three Grindelwalds decided who the top five were, and then Fred and George had them fly up and down the pitch while they shot bludgers at them.

It seemed to take forever, and they knew they were cutting it close with their meeting, but finally there was one kid left on his broom, a third year named Thomas Flint. Fred and George gave him the spot, then hurried back to their dorms to change and meet James and Riddle.

The two men were deep in conversation when Fred and George ran into the room at exactly eight thirty.

"Sorry, we aren't late, are we?" George asked breathlessly. James looked at him almost sadly, but Riddle only shook his head, his eyes blank.

"No, you aren't," Riddle said. James started to speak, but the older man rushed on. "Now, I have found a… spell, of sorts that can get you back to an exact moment in time. There is no way that you will be able to stop yourselves from getting in the middle of the fight, but you may still be able to stop Dumbledore and Grindelwald from retaining their friendship."

James was gaping at Riddle, his eyes hard, but George hardly even noticed.

"We'll take it," said George. Him and Fred could ruin anything given enough time. He saw no reason why they couldn't ruin a friendship. "When can you do it for us?"

"It's not as simple as he's making it sound," said James. "This thing that he found, it's not a spell so much as a ritual. He wasn't supposed to tell you about it."

Now that did not sound good.

"Ritual?" asked George.

"That would be one word for it," Riddle said stiffly, glaring at James. "However, if it is your only chance at getting back, I would expect you to take it for the sake of the world."

"What does this 'ritual' entail?" asked Fred.

"A few runes, a circle of fire, a simple sacrifice, and an easily remembered incantation," said Riddle dismissively.

James glared at him, as if he were trying to get the other man to continue, but Riddle kept his mouth shut.

"He's not telling you everything," said James finally. "The runes must be written in unicorn blood, and the sacrifice must be human. Do not listen to him about that spell. There are others. You have already proved that you can make a potion for timetravel, perhaps we can experiment with that. We didn't call you here to talk about getting you back. What Tom found… it was just the first thing he came across. He wasn't really serious about doing it."

George was reeling from surprise, but he still saw how cold Riddle's eyes went. James was wrong. He had been serious. But why…?

Because sending him and Fred back would put him in a position to rule the world. That was probably the only reason that he was helping them in the first place. Why else would he even care? Maybe James trusted him, but from that moment on, George decided that he wouldn't.

"Okay, that's fine. We'll wait for something else. Although we appreciate the option, Riddle," Fred said as he gave the older man a cold glare. "Now what did you want us to talk about?"

"Well," said James. The black-haired man took a deep breath, then continued, "The two of you know things about people in this world that most of them wouldn't expect for you to know. You are both rich and in a position of power, not to mention that you have the means of releasing thousands of Muggleborns, half-bloods, and pureblood 'traitors' from your father's prisons. I'm not saying that you aren't going to get back to your own time, but just incase you don't, I think that you should consider helping to spark a rebellion."

Rebellion?

"No, no, no," said George. "I'm not going to get myself killed before I get a chance to even go home. Besides, it'd be pointless. Why would we do something like that when spending time getting us home would simply fix everything?"

"Because there is the more miniscule chance that you may not get back."

"If it comes down to the worst case scenario, we'll do Voldemort's little dark and deadly scheme," said Fred, even though George could see that his brother was just saying that to get James off their back.

"Voldemort?" hissed Riddle. "How dare you insinuate… I am trying to help you…"

"Help us my arse," snapped Fred so irritably that George wondered if it was him or the other Fred. "I know exactly what you're trying to do. You just want us to make things go back to the way they were because you weren't a bloody kitchen slave! You know that you're pathetic in this world, and you can't stand the fact that you are beneath us!"

"Stop it!" shouted James. The noise died down instantly, ending with Fred and George sending their best death glares in Riddle's direction. "Good. Now you two can go. I think that we all need to cool down a little bit. I want you to think about what I said, though. You can set up another meeting with us later on to say your final decision."

"Don't bring Voldemort," said George.

"Yeah. He might want us to start murdering unicorns," said Fred darkly.

James opened his mouth to scold them, but they were already gone, leaving a steaming Riddle and a frustrated James behind. Fred staggered a moment later, and George didn't miss it, but his brother didn't say anything, so he decided that he didn't need to either.