Double or Nothing

Chapter Fourteen

Purpose

Stand in the rain, stand your ground,
Stand up when it's all crashing down,
If you stand through the pain, you won't drown,
And one day what's lost can be found,
If you stand in the rain
Stand in the Rain- Superchick

xxxXxxx

It was freezing. The snow fell steadily and contributed to the shin-deep snow that covered the streets of Hogsmeade. George had Apparated just outside The Three Broomsticks, not surprised in the least by the lack of bustling students. He clutched the crimson cloak closer around him and swallowed, he'd best start walking before he came down with an acute case of frostbite.
His jaw shook slightly, but not from the cold as he began the walk from the wizarding village up to Hogwarts castle.

So many thoughts flew through his head as he stood before the great gates which had opened to admit him. He shouldn't be here, it wasn't right. He didn't have any desire to step through those gates and through the large doors. He wondered vaguely whether anyone would recognize him, classes would have just resumed.
He had to do it. He had to honour his brother's last request…and so, George stepped through the iron gates and slowly, very slowly, walked toward the caste doors.
"George!" A great bellow made him leap out of his skin and before he could stop it, the Weasley found himself in a bone crushing hug.
Hagrid was sniffing tearfully as George tried to squirm free, to no avail. "Yeh alright!"
"Yeah….great…" George wheezed and repeatedly began to beat the arm that crushed him with his fists "Can't…breathe, Hagrid…"
The gamekeeper dropped him and withdrew a table-cloth of a handkerchief from his pocket. He blew his nose with a noise not unlike that of an elephant and clapped George on the back, almost sending him face first into the door.
"Are yeh alright? Why're yeh here?"
He grunted "M' fine…I've…there's something I gotta do, Hagrid."
"Come and 'ave a cup of tea first!" Hagrid insisted "Blimey…its good ter see yeh…"
George shook his head furiously "It's good to see you too, Hagrid…but I have to go." With that he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and muttered "Fred…give me strength…"' before pushing the doors open and stepping inside the halls. Leaving a bewildered gamekeeper behind him.

The Entrance Hall was empty like he would have expected and he groaned. She would be teaching…McGonagall would be teaching…George almost turned straight around and left but he knew it was too late for that now.
He sighed and began his ascent toward the usual Transfiguration classroom on the third floor.

He didn't pay any notice to the students he hurried past, hoping they didn't recognize him and try to talk to him. Mercifully the third floor corridor was deserted and he leant against the wood of the door to take several steadying breaths. Fred had died in this castle…he had died here. This wasn't ok, he couldn't do this. He just couldn't. And yet…he found himself beginning to pull the door open. There was no turning back.

xxxXxxx

He peered into the room, making sure McGonagall was there. She was, it appeared to be a class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. He made a peculiar sound in his throat the he didn't think was even human and stepped into the doorway.
Total silence fell as McGonagall stopped whatever lecture she was giving and stared slightly open-mouthed at the twin. The class looked around and George could spot Luna Lovegood and Ginny sitting near the front and looking at him curiously.
There was nothing for it, he took a few steps forward into the classroom and, looking straight and McGonagall, said "There's something I need to tell you…"
She gasped and held a hand on her chest for a moment before composing herself and taking a few calming breaths. "Of course…"
At that the whole class erupted into whispered conversation, Ginny flew from her seat and threw her arms around her brother. "George! What are you doing here? Are you alright? Are you any better? Have you spoken to Mum yet? Or Bill?"
George pried his sister off and blinked at her "I can't tell you. I'm fine. Yeah, whatever you call better. No. Yes." He replied quickly and in order before pushing her gently aside as the Professor opened the door to her office.
"Right!" She instructed "Continue your revision QUIETLY until I return. Leave the man alone!" She snapped at several boys who looked on the verge of asking George some questions.
Ginny grabbed George's arm as he made toward Minerva McGonagall's office. "George…your eyes are really red…"
He grunted, possibly not the wisest thing to have done because the next words out of her mouth were:
"You're breath smells like….George…you've been drinking again haven't you?"
The problem was that she hadn't added the last part in in undertone, the entire class heard it quite plainly and George suddenly felt twenty pairs of eyes on him and complete silence fell again.
"Leave off…" he muttered, flushing a little. With that, he disappeared into the office.

xxxXxxx

"What is so important, Mr Weasley, that you felt it necessary to come back to school and disturb my class?" the Professor peered over her glasses at the Weasley standing across from her. He looked extremely awkward there.
"I don't want to…to be here." He muttered but breathed slowly and managed to form a coherent sentence. "It's…about my brother…Fred I mean…"
She sniffed slightly and held a hand to her heart for several moments, why would George have come to speak to her about his dead twin. It was a dreadful loss and one that she was sure would be the very last thing George would willingly speak about.
"Mr Weasley…what is this about?"
George, trying to keep his hands from shaking, withdrew the small box from his coat. He slipped the letter back near his chest and looked down at the box in his hands.
"F-Fred…wanted-he took…" He clenched his eyes closed. He couldn't do it. He shouldn't have come, he knew he couldn't do this.
No. He had to, he promised Fred and he kept his promises.
It was the best he could to hand her the box and, without meeting her eyes, say "He took this…in our second year…F-Fred."
She gave him a sympathetic look and took the box. She lifted the lid and, finding the bottle inside, let out an audible gasp and dropped onto a chair. "My-My goodness…you say Fred took this?"
"Eight years ago…" He still couldn't believe that his twin hadn't told him. George wouldn't have been ashamed of him, he would have told him to go give it back but he wouldn't be ashamed of him.
"Mr Weasley…do-do you know what this is?"
George shook his head, curiosity beginning to open its eyes.
She held up the bottle, indicating the engraved writing "This is Parseltongue…"
George blinked "Parseltongue? I didn't even know it was a written language, I thought it was just spoken…"
"All these years…your brother had this…oh my…" Professor McGonagall composed herself and stood looking George firmly in the eyes "You do not know what you have started by returning this…only you can finish this now."
He was staring at her as though she had just sprouted a third arm "I'm sorry…what?"
She walked around the finely carved oak desk and pulled a roll of parchment from a drawer. "What this bottle contains I cannot tell you. Only that it must be destroyed and that there is only one man who knows how to do so...unfortunately…he is in hiding, I know only that he is abroad." She crossed the room and returned the bottle to the box. "You, George Weasley are the only one now who can take it to this man. Had your brother returned it to me I would have told him the same thing, though I do not doubt that you would have joined him." She held out the box and parchment for him to take.
George took several steps back, not touching the box. "What in hell makes you think I'll go waltzing off to who-knows-where?"
She pursed her lips "This bottle contains something essential to the destruction of evil…" She sighed at the expression on George's face "Well…you didn't think that everything would be sunshine, daisies and buttercups because You-Know-Who is gone?" She shook her head "No. There were dark wizards before him and there will be dark wizards after."
George had heard enough, there was no way he was doing it. No way in hell. Why did she expect him to anyway? He scoffed and turned to leave.
"I'm not doing it. I have absolutely no desire to. Look…" He took his hand from the doorhandle and turned back to McGonagall "Look! I promised my twin I'd return that to you. I've done it and I'm done!" His voice was beginning to rise and he didn't care "I have no more reason to live! I've done what he asked me to, that was the only reason I had left so if you don't mind, I'm going home!"
The Professor's hard eyes gleamed and she flicked her wand at the door, locking it.
"Mr Weasley, you have no choice! If it were up to me, I would not pin this burden onto you, especially not in your current state. I will be blunt, you are pathetic at the moment!" She sighed "You are a very skilled wizard and I really think that if you snap out of your selfish stupor you can succeed in this quest. It is far bigger than you, and it is far bigger than Fred!"
He blinked, completely taken aback by the Professor's words. It was true…he had been selfish but still…how could she expect him to just get over the loss of his twin and go skipping off halfway across the world to find a man who he had no idea where to find?
Furious with himself, George snatched up the box and parchment, tucking them both under his coat again. He turned and glared at the door, and without the use of a wand it swung open for him.
"George?"
He gritted his teeth and grunted in acknowledgement without turning back to look at her.
"You may wish to speak with Hagrid…unlikely as it may seem I believe he might be able to tell you where to begin…oh…" she paused "It might be wise to take along a companion. It promises to be a dangerous quest…perhaps Mr Potter."
George spun around "I'm not asking for HIS help! I'm sick of Harry! Harry, Harry, Harry, it's always Harry!" He didn't quite know what possessed him at the moment but he couldn't stop his rant. The entire class was staring at the open door of McGonagall's office, some seemed rather afraid, others intrigued.
"So many people died for HIM! Mad-Eye, Remus and Tonks all died for HIM. I lost my ear for HIM….and it's HIS FAULT THAT FRED'S DEAD!" The tears stung his eyes but there was no way he would left himself cry now. It wasn't that he hated Harry, not really, but he did resent him. After all he was right; Fred had lost his life in trying to give HARRY the opportunity to get to Voldemort.
With that George turned and stalked out of the office and through the desks in the Transfiguration classroom. He felt the stunned eyes of the class on him and those of his sister seemed to scorch painfully into his back.

Professor McGonagall shook her head and sighed. She really wished that she didn't have to send George on such a quest, but it was true. Fred would have had to do it had he still been alive. George had admitted it himself, he had no reason left to live and he needed one. For the sake of everyone who knew him, he needed a reason.

xxxXxxx

George didn't go back right away, he ignored all the wide variety of stares he received from students as he passed and stormed from the castle with so many thoughts rushing through his head.
He was freezing and shivering by the time he stumbled into the Three Broomsticks. It was divinely warm he registered gratefully and sank onto a stool.
"What can I getcha, hon?" Madam Rosmerta, the bartender asked without looking up at him, placing aside the glass she'd been wiping.
"Mead…" He replied, unfastening his cloak and throwing it over the stool beside him, the Three Broomsticks was more or less deserted.
"Here." She placed the beverage before him and did a double take "Hey…I know you...you're a…a-umm. Weasley! That's it."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't know me…" He sighed and took a drink.
She chuckled and resumed wiping glasses. "What's wrong with you, sweetie?"
George shook his head and took another drink. He wished she wouldn't call him 'sweetie' it was really weird…
"You must get all types in here…" he mused, watching the only other customer, a particularly hairy man of about forty order another strange, lime green drink.
"Think that's strange, you oughta see the Hog's Head." Rosmerta snorted and tossed down the cloth. "Listen, I read the 'Prophet' as regularly as the next witch but for the record, you come from a good family…I don't think you're nuts." She winked at him.
He didn't know whether to be reassured, grateful or slightly freaked out. It wasn't uncommon for Rosmerta to hit on customers, and, he reasoned, he was almost four years older than when she had last seen him and probably looked it.
He settled for nodding and draining his glass, he nodded again when she asked if he wanted another.

George absentmindedly swilled the amber liquid around in his glass, resting his chin in his palm. He had calmed down now and was actually feeling the best he had in days, there was no one here to pester him. No one to try and make him spend time with his family and wrongly accuse him of attempting suicide. Too bad it wouldn't last.
His better mood was spoiled as soon as he thought on the 'quest' that lay before him. Was he really going to do it? Would he really be stupid and insane enough to do it? No…of course not.
He blinked and realised, he hadn't any idea what was on that parchment McGonagall had given him. He withdrew it from its hiding place and unrolled it. It was mercifully short, there were only a few words written there.

Demetrius Dominió

"Well, he ain't British…" George muttered to himself.
Rosmerta, having sent off dusters and cloths to wipe down the tables, raised an eyebrow "Who isn't?"
"Never mind." He rolled up the parchment and slipped it away safely before she could look at it.
She shrugged and stared sideways at him sideways for a moment before shaking her head, a smirk on her lips.
George returned to his own thoughts… he was really starting to consider actually being stupid enough to undertake this quest. But really, he did NOT want Harry's help. He would never be able to truly forgive Harry for his twin's death. Even though he knew that it wasn't his fault at all and therefore it was a stupid, pitiful resentment. But nevertheless, it was still there…
He groaned aloud when the bartender began to speak to him again.
"Oi, how old are you anyways?"
George winced and replied cautiously "Twenty…"
She flicked her long hair out of her eyes and shrugged "Yeah, you look it, you're not that young."
"Hey!" He wasn't getting old just yet!
Rosmerta sighed and rolled her eyes. The other patron had passed out on his table and was snoring slightly. She raised an eyebrow at him and brushed it off before turning back to the twin.
"Gets boring around here, you're about the only good looking guy I've seen in a couple of weeks. Free later?"
George drained the remnants of his mead and stood. That was enough. She may not look her age but she was far too old for him. He shook his head "Nope." He lied and hurriedly left the building.
The effect was spoiled five seconds later when he returned to retrieve his forgotten cloak…he had paid good money for that.

xxxXxxx

He lay on his bed, holding the crystal bottle above him and turning it over in fingers. Parseltongue? Seriously? What on earth could this liquid have to do with the 'destruction of evil'?
Damn it…he was curious now…he really wanted to know. A part of his old life had returned, but only his curiosity. Nothing else.