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We lose our way,

We get back up again

It's never too late to get back up again,

One day you gonna shine again,

You may be knocked down, But not out forever

Get Back Up, TobyMac

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"So you actually think that we should tell Dumbledore?" George asked Fred incredulously.

"I think we should try to see where his views are," Fred replied as he took a sip of his butterbeer. The two of them had gone out for the first Hogsmeade weekend, and were discussing ideas in a dirty, mostly deserted bar. They had tried the Three Broomsticks, but too many people had interrupted them, so they'd fled to the Hogshead, an out of the way place where they could speak more freely.

"We know what they are," George said. "What's there to find out?"

"Maybe he's not as pureblood oriented as Grindelwald," Fred suggested. "If it looks like he has a soft spot for the people he has tortured, then maybe we can convince him to help us. It'd be better than working with Voldemort."

George sighed, and Fred knew that his twin didn't like the idea of letting anyone else in on their story, especially not Dumbledore.

"Maybe," George finally said. "I really, really don't want to talk to him, especially not when we know that Grindelwald has such an influence on him…" He paused and shook his head, his eyes focused on something behind them. "Am I the only who thinks that old woman is staring at us?"

"Who?" Fred asked curiously, craning his neck to see. George was right. An elderly woman with long white hair and bright blue eyes was staring right at them. She was sitting behind the counter and smiling at them like she was seeing old friends. There was something off about her, though, like she a little child in a woman's body.

"Her," George answered. "I mean, I don't think that she's quite right in the head, but it's still creepy. There's something about those eyes…."

"You're crazy," commented Fred, even though now that George pointed it out, he wondered at her bright blue eyes. There was something very, very strange about them. Then he realized what was bothering him. "Do you think she looks familiar?"

"Her?" asked George. "No. I've never seen her before in my life." He shook his head as if to clear it. "It's probably just something else that the wonderful Weasley twins have done. Now, as I was saying, I think that we should stick with using Riddle as our way out. Dumbledore is too dangerous. At least with Riddle, you know that he wants us to get back to our own dimension, even if his methods aren't the best."

"But if he doesn't work-"

"Then I maybe, might, have a very tiny chance of agreeing to speak to Dumbledore."

Fred sighed, even though he knew George was right. He wanted to talk to Dumbledore, especially after working with him and the Order during the summer, but it would be dangerous. Then again, they were the Weasley twins. They did things that were dangerous, and to Fred, Dumbledore was preferable to Lord Voldemort.

"You do realize that with Riddle, we also get James, though," Fred pointed out, trying to change George's mind. George sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Yes, but dealing with guilty looks is better than getting murdered by Dumbledore."

Fred polished off his butterbeer. He knew where George was coming from, but Hermione had made it sound like such a good option. He didn't want to argue with George, though, and the prospect of talking to Dumbledore did scare him.

"Fine. We'll stick with Riddle, but the next time that he offers to send us through some satanic ritual, I am going to kill him." At that moment, the bell that announced a customer's entrance into the store rang, and Fred furrowed his brow. Something about the person's figure looked extremely familiar. Whoever it was had their face covered with a long scarf, but it was definitely a girl, and… was that red hair?

"Hey, stop for a second," Fred said, standing up. The girl froze rigid.

"Do you know her?" George whispered to him.

"I think so," Fred whispered, stepping forward. "Um. Ginny?"

The girl shook her head, but there was a frantic edge to it. Fred took out his wand.

"Accio scarf."

The long red scarf went flying into his fingers, revealing the angry, but scared face of his younger sister.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, more than a little bit confused.

"What are you doing here?" she tossed back defiantly.

"Enjoying a butterbeer without the clutter of our many fans," replied Fred easily; in a way, it was true. "Your turn."

"I- I-" she started, looking flustered for the first time that Fred could remember since coming into this world. "I can't tell you."

"Oh, come on. Mother would kill us if we touched a hair on your head," George argued.

"Yes, and she would also kill me if I told you what I was doing, so-"

"You mean she knows?"

"Obviously. Now if you would please give me that scarf back, I have other places to be."

"Don't worry, we're leaving. You can rendezvous with whoever it is you're meeting without worrying about us catching you."

"I am not meeting anyone," she snapped with fierce eyes. "Now, I have to go." Then she yanked her scarf out of Fred's hands, sent them one more fierce glare, and stomped out the door.

"Well, that was interesting," Fred commented.

"Yeah, it was," George mumbled, his eyes scanning all of the occupied tables. Fred did the same and noticed that there was no single person sitting at any of them, no one that looked as though they were waiting for someone to arrive. It looked like Ginny really hadn't been meeting someone. "Do you think we should ask if she's been in here before? I know it's the first Hogsmeade weekend, but maybe she stopped by last year."

"It wouldn't hurt," said Fred.

The twins made their way up to the front counter. The strange woman was still looking at them with her bright blue eyes, still smiling as though they were old friends. She scared Fred.

"It's you," she commented in a light, childish voice. Fred and George exchanged a look.

"Um-"

"It aint anybody, Ariana," a gruff voice interrupted, and Fred shrunk back slightly when a grizzled old man stomped up to the counter beside the woman. He studied Fred and George under an intense gaze, one that, like Ariana's, felt strangely familiar. "Now what're the likes of the two of you doing 'round here?"

Right. Probably not the type of place the other twins would have visited.

"Just looking for some privacy," Fred said friendlily.

Friendlily? Wow. This isn't suspicious at all.

His bright blue eyes studied them for a moment before he said, "Fine. As long as yeh aint causing no trouble. Now, what do ye want?"

"Well, um. We were just wondering if our sister has ever been in here before? You know her, don't you? Kinda short, long red hair, lots of freckles?" George tried. Fred continued to study the man and the woman closely, his brain working a hundred miles an hour. There was something about them, something so dang familiar.

"No, I haven't seen her," he answered shortly.

"Oh, well, thanks anyway," Fred said, and George kicked him in the shin. "I mean, damnit! You aren't good for anything you stupid old goat!"

We are screwed.

The old man's eyes narrowed.

"That wasn't very subtle. What're ye playing at?"

Then he made eye contact with Fred, and the twin made the connection almost immediately. He had Dumbledore's eyes. He… he was the brother, and the girl was the sister. The girl actually recognized them, that's what she meant with the whole 'it's you' thing.

All of the Dumbledores should have remembered them, and Grindelwald, too. He was sure that Grindelwald and the Dumbledore brothers probably wrote it off as some stupid coincidence, or maybe thought the strange people who popped into that fight were just figments of their imagination, but Ariana remembered. There had to be something they could do with that.

"Have you seen us before?" Fred asked excitedly.

The man's eyes flashed with something for a moment before he grunted.

"Of course I've seen ye before. The wonderful an' glorious Weasley twins? Unfortunately, I don't think there's many who haven't heard-"

That damn ugly fool has no right to talk to us like that.

"If you don't shut up about us, I am going to get your ugly arse locked away in Nurmengard before you can so much as blink," Fred growled. George put a hand on his arm, but Fred shrugged it off.

Why isn't he defending me? What's my stupid brother playing at?

"Don't talk to me like that, ye little punk," the bartender growled.

Little punk? That piece of goat dung has no right to call me a punk. I'm going to make him wish he were dead.

Fred whipped out his wand in an instant, and bellowed, "Crucio", wanting nothing more than to feel the excitement that comes with causing someone else pain.

The old man fell to the ground and started crying out, but the woman beside him was much better, screeching and screaming in a way that sent adrenaline pumping through Fred's veins. And the best past was that nobody dared to help anyone who was under the wrath of a Weasley twin. Because they were that powerful.

"Fred," George snapped, "snap out of it. Fred!"

Then he grabbed his wand arm, and Fred decided that he wasn't going to put up with whatever nice act George was trying to place that time. In a perfectly practiced fighting move, he whipped his left arm around and connected perfectly with George's face, then flung a stunning hex at him while his attention was diverted.

Barely even cringing at hexing his brother, Fred turned back to the bartender, his heart pounding with anger. He could feel the power radiating off his body, could feel the giddiness that came with knowing he was on top of the world.

"You will show me respect from now on. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, and he was smiling, because this was fun.

"I'll never respect your kind," the man spat foolishly. Fred laughed, loud and long. The blissfulness that came with insanity.

"Then I'll make sure to mess up your crazy rebel brain until you do."

Fred raised his wand again, ready to resume the Crucio curse, but then he pitched forward. Unable to keep his balance, the redhead slammed his forehead against the counter. For a moment all that he felt was the thudding of his heart and a screaming pain coming from his head, and then everything went black.

….

"Fred? Fred, is that you?"

"No, I'm George," he moaned. His head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it, and his stomach was threatening to heave. Someone set a soft hand on his forehead, and he swatted it away. "No touchy, no touchy."

"I'm pretty sure that I'm Forge, Gred," a familiar voice joked, even though Fred didn't miss the relief in it.

What happened?

"How are you feeling?" another voice asked.

"Like I got trampled by a hippogriff," he muttered, even the gentle voices intensifying the pain in his head.

"Well, it looks like you've got a concussion," the other voice, Hermione, he thought, said.

Fred forced himself to sit up, slowly because of his weak stomach. He was back in his dorm room, with George and Hermione looking down at him. He tried to think about how he got there, but even just doing that hurt.

"I think I hit my head," he moaned.

I think? Either that, or I have a hangover from hell.

"Obviously," George answered. "You were bloody frightening before that, too-"

Frightening? Fred thought for a moment, and then flinched as memories came flooding back to him. Cursing George. Crucioing that bartender.

And the power. The wonderful, intoxicating power.

He shook the thought away, trying to convince himself that it was the other Fred speaking, even though he wasn't sure. But he couldn't actually think that casting the Crucio curse was one of the more fun things that he had ever done, could he?

Yeah. I could. I did.

"Crap, no," Fred said. "Please, please tell me that I didn't do what I think I did."

"You did," answered George gravely. "He was okay, though. It was only for a few seconds."

"But still," Fred said, shaking his head in self-disgust. "I can't believe that I did that. I wanted to kill him, too. I was so angry that a part of me wanted to see him dead."

"It's okay," Hermione voiced softly, nervously, almost like she wasn't sure if she wanted to say it. "You… you couldn't control it."

Except he could. He knew what he was doing. He liked what he was doing. It felt good. But Fred wasn't about to tell them that, and he had a feeling that self-pity wouldn't help him very much in that situation. He forced a smile at them, turned more into a grimace by the throbbing pain in his head and his current thoughts.

"I suppose," he tried, the sick feeling in his stomach getting worse.

"Good," George said. "Um. Now you should probably go back to sleep. Hermione said we should wake you up every hour or so to make sure that you don't fall into a coma. I know that there's some kind of spell to help out with concussions, but neither of us know it."

"Wait," Fred said. "Um. I figured out something important. Just give me a second and I'll remember it."

"It can't be that big," said George. It was, though, and Fred knew it. He could feel it. He racked his brain in an attempt to place a name with the man, but he could hardly even remember his face. All that he saw was a figure curled up onto the ground in pain, all he heard was that woman's terrible screams. And all that he could think about was how much he had liked it.

"Yes, it is. I know who that guy in the bar was."

"Probably someone you knew from Hogsmeade before. It's not a big deal," Hermione said.

"No, it is," Fred argued. "I just can't quite remember…"

Merlin, his head hurt. He wanted to sleep. Nothing more than to sleep, and forget, and never think about any of this again.

"You'll get it after you rest," said Hermione.

"Yeah, maybe," muttered Fred unsurely.

"You will," encouraged George. "Now go to sleep. I've already told our roommates that you're sick, so they won't bother you."

Then George and Hermione left him alone to rest. He didn't sleep a wink.

…

Two days later, Fred found himself still unable to remember who the stupid bartender was. His head was better, though, and he attended the entire day of classes. He was still exhausted afterwards, but George insisted that they had to talk to James and Riddle. The twins had made an appointment with James during Battle Training, and they were now headed to the Room of Requirement.

"Should we bring Mione?" Fred asked.

"Probably not. I doubt Riddle would appreciate it, and we need to be on his good side. Especially after calling him Voldemort."

"He likes it and you know it," said Fred. He probably would have paired it with a joking grin, but he really wasn't in the mood.

The door appeared on the wall in front of them, and George opened it.

"Yeah, but he needs to keep up a front in front of James," he whispered conspiratorially, then stepped in. Fred followed.

Like before, James and Riddle were both waiting for them, both of them tense.

"Hello," George said genially.

Riddle inclined his head at them, and James gave them a forced smile and asked, "Have you come to a decision?"

"Well," Fred tried.

"We would love to help you," George added.

"But we really don't want to make anyone mad."

"And we definitely aren't rebel leaders."

James sighed.

"I kind of expected that, but any time that you guys change your minds, you can tell me."

Why is he talking like he knows something we don't.

Fred shrugged the thought off. He was making something out of nothing. Or maybe old Fred was trying to get him to not trust James. But then old Fred wouldn't think that up as an excuse, and if it was old Fred, he'd be yelling and screaming, and…

And his head was ready to explode, and he really needed some sleep.

"Don't worry, we will," said George.

"Thank you. Now, was there something else you would like to talk about?"

"Um, yeah. We'd like to apologize to Riddle," said Fred grumpily.

"Yeah. We're sorry, and we would still like your help," George said with much more enthusiasm than Fred.

"But no satanic rituals," Fred added.

"I won't suggest anything like that again," Riddle said, his eyes focused on the ceiling above them, as if he were being forced to rehearse a meaningless apology. "I was merely trying to help you, and I went too far. I will assure you that even though I am not happy with my current position, I have no aspirations to take over the world."

Wow. Did James write that on a note card for you to memorize, Riddle?

"Apology accepted," said George. "And we believe you."

Not.

"Thank you. I will return to researching your cause immediately. Is that all?"

"Yes," Fred said, just as George hesitantly added, "No."

Everyone looked at George.

"Um, did you see my sister in the kitchens a few days ago?" he asked Riddle.

What?

"Ginevra?" asked Riddle. "Actually, yes. She was in there the other day. Didn't stay for long, though."

"What was she doing?" prompted George.

"It looked like she was flirting with one of my younger slaves. I talked to him afterwards, and he said that she had been genial to him, so I thought nothing of it. Why?"

She hadn't been meeting that kitchen slave, had she?

"No reason. We were just wondering," George said. "We can go now. Thanks for helping us, Riddle."

"I am glad to," he answered, a smug smile on his face.

Yeah, right.

George must have seen the look on Fred's face, because he grabbed his arm and more or less pulled him out of the room.

Fred glared back at Riddle before following his twin out the door.

"So," Fred started. "What do you think little Ginny is up to?"

"Maybe she's on our side, too," George tried. "I mean, it looks like she's sneaking around with a slave, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," Fred agreed. Wouldn't that just be too good to be true, though? One of their evil siblings was already on their side. Somehow, Fred doubted that there could be two.

A/N-

Happy 4th of July for all my American readers. I kind of have a lot of company, so I'll just make a quick author's note. First, all of your reviews seriously floored me. At least twelve, if I counted right. That's just amazing, and I thank you a million times over. Cupcakes for everyone.

Other than that, the only question I can remember is someone asking if Lily will be in the story, and she will be eventually, but it probably won't be a very big part. I'll do better review responses next chapter, but I only have a few minutes right now. So, if I did miss a question, PM me or stick it in your next review, and I'll answer it.

Several people did say that they'd want to read the story I wrote for my sister, so I'll probably start posting that in a couple of weeks, once it's completely finished and proofread. I'll put the title in here as soon as I think of a good one.

That's it, I think. So, thanks to all my readers, please keep up the awesome reviews, and I'll try to get my next update up soon. Thank you.

~bballgirl32~