Author's Note: Ahh, not many people liked that chapter :P But that's alright, I have my reasons for this plotline, and if needed I can explain the thinking behind it at the end. Which should only, actually, be a few chapters away! :'( Anyways, you guys are probably going to hate me for this one too, but hopefully by the end of the story you'll forgive me :P Reviews are always welcome! And thank you to EricaX, ZivaLou, Anonymous, mybryne, Spiralling-Down, stargirlak, BeingHannah923, Dimcairien, Jojo, GeorgieForever, SolelyReader, DisgracedxMia, Cristina Weasley, melkyre, Aris1013, Blue Luver5000, and Punzie the Platypus for reviewing :) And also, I apologise for the late update, but I had to get a new Wifi thingy and they couldn't come in to…install I suppose the word would be? Anyways, they couldn't come in to 'install' it until actually a few hours ago.

Disclaimer: I sadly own nothing.

Summary: After an accident with a Bludger, George has lost his memory. All of it. And Fred is determined to bring it back.

Rating: K+

Once A Weasley

'..But still you say,
Will you think that you're all alone,
When there's no one there to hold your hand?
When all you know seems so far away,
And everything is temporary, rest your head.
I'm permanent.'
 ~ 'Permanent,' David Cook

George felt weird.

He didn't know where he was, but this wasn't what was supposed to happen when he laid his head down for Mr. Rikialria to begin. For one thing, he didn't feel any pain. Second, he wasn't at Hogwarts.

He was standing in a white room, a place he had never been before, and it worried him a tad. He tried to walk, but he was rooted to the spot, like vines had snared him and kept him in place. The white...it was starting to hurt his eyes; it was too bright.

George felt afraid for a few moments; he couldn't find Fred. He wanted Fred with him, because Fred always made him feel better. He was George's comfort zone, the person he could retreat to when things got too bad, or if he simply wanted a laugh. So why...why wasn't Fred with him?

But suddenly, two gingers came running out of nowhere, and George was stunned to find that they were twins. It was them. It was Fred and him, running and giggling and ducking behind a tree. They crouched down low, George's hand over Fred's mouth, and his over George's as they tried to stifle their laughter. Faintly he heard the sound of Mrs. Weasley shouting, and that only caused the younger versions of them to laugh even more.

George closed his eyes, swaying. Everything was coming back, hitting him at full force.

He swayed some more.

He fell.

Fred hadn't slept. He merely sat in place, frozen save for his gentle fingers running through George's hair and the occassional movement of his lips as he talked to his unconscious twin. People tried to visit him, but Fred would not allow that. He even pleased himself to make Hermione cry, though he knew he'd feel awful about it later. But right now, he hated everyone. Hated them for trying to force themselves into their little world.

Because when you got right down to it, it was just George and him. That's how it had always been, and he reckoned that was how it would always stay. Lee was the only one who could stay with him after the first day, because he had gone through everything with them. He allowed blood relations to visit day and night, and even then only for brief periods of time. If they lingered longer, his wand would spark and he would snarl and order them out.

But right now, he was quiet. Fred was never a serious or quiet bloke, but right now, he had never felt a less desire to laugh. He gently stroked George's hair, watching his face avidly, praying that he would awake soon. It was hell for Fred not to be able to talk to him. So he found himself unable to say much at all, unless it was to the twin who could not hear him.

He missed him. Fred didn't know how to function without his best mate; he never had to before. And he hoped he wouldn't have to in the future.

"Fred," Lee suddenly spoke, his voice a bit rough after such a long time without it being used.

Fred inclined his head in his friend's direction to show that he had heard him, though his eyes never left his brother's face.

"It's been three days."

Fred's breathing faltered a bit, though he still didn't look at him. "I know how long it's been, Lee," he replied so softly Lee barely heard him.

Lee paused, the saddness in Fred's voice hurting him. And as much as he knew Fred wouldn't want to hear this, and as much as he didn't want to tell him, someone had to. "Fred, I think you should leave for a bit." Fred stiffened. "Get some fresh air, eat. Fred, he might not wake for weeks."

Those words struck Fred in the heart, causing anger to course through him. "And he might wake any minute," he snapped, turning to glare at Lee. "I am not going to miss it."

"You'll end up in the hospital bed if you don't take care of yourself," Lee scolded lightly. "Fred, you're exhausted. At least sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens, okay? And then you are eating a train full of food, and don't refuse, because I will force feed you if I have to Fred Weasley."

Fred stared at him for a moment, mildly surprised, before he broke into the first grin in seventy-two hours. "Yes Mum," he teased.

Lee stuck his tongue out, but pulled Fred up and forced him into the nearest empty bed. Fred began to get a little anxious, and stared at George's drawn drapes. Lee noticed and said, "Don't worry, Fred. I'll watch him, and if he so much as twitches, I'll wake you up. Okay?"

Fred nodded tiredly, suddenly overwhelmingly exhausted. He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Lee had to tuck him in, since he didn't bother to pull the blankets over himself; he got the feeling that he would be sleeping for a while. He drew the drapes around him as well so he wouldn't be bothered, and went back to sit in Fred's chair by George. George's face had since calmed, and he looked tranquil...peaceful. Lee fought the lump in his throat. Shut up, he berated himself. George is fine.

Lee watched him for a few moments before he tentatively reached out to brush his fingers through George's hair. He knew Fred did it because it calmed his twin, and he figured that while the real Fred slept, he would have to be Fred for now. "Now I just need hair dye," he muttered to himself before chuckling. He sat back. "You know, you're a right git," he told him. "Not intentionally, mind, but if you had been more careful then Fred and I wouldn't be having anxiety attacks over here." He paused and sat in silence, looking at one of his best friends. "Then again," he mused quietly, "we were gits too for not watching you better. I mean, you lost your memory, you can't be expected to know everything, and Merlin knows that if Fred heard me talking like this, I wouldn't be able to talk for a week, if you know what I mean."

"He's scared, you know," Lee murmured. "So am I, but he's really scared, George. I've never seen him like this; nearly all of the fight has gone out of him. I guess you probably have, but I'm still new to this sort of thing. So you better come out alright, because I think it would kill him if you didn't. It would hurt us all terribly, but...Fred's right. He'll always hurt more, because you guys are twins." He snorted to himself. "Not that I need to remind you of that, it's not like him being your twin is new or anything."

Lee stopped suddenly. "Merlin, I sound like a girl," he chuckled, shaking his head at himself. "I need to stop thinking so much. And stop talking to a comatose friend..." But that sombered him up instantly. "You better come out alright," he said gruffly, running his hands through George's ginger hair. He sighed; might as well get it off his chest while there were no witnesses around. "I'm scared too, George. I'm worried you'll end up suffering, I'm worried what that will do to both you and Fred. I just...I want you back, mate. I want Fred back. I want our old life back, and, I know, it won't ever be exactly the same, but...I can't keep wondering if each time you fall asleep you might not wake up. And I can't watch Fred be even more afraid than I am. He hasn't left your side, and if he wasn't so exhausted, I doubt I would have been able to make him." But Lee's voice suddenly became adamant.

"But you had better not think this is your fault, or I might have to kill you. You need to let go of that guilt you still have. You need to let go of everything you don't tell us. It's killing Fred too. Everything that happens to you kills him. I don't think you realise..." Lee stopped again, though this time to swallow the lump in his throat. "You know, sometimes I wonder who suffers more. I guess it's equal, because Merlin knows you have suffered a lot, George. But Fred...he's suffered too. You don't see the way he acts when you're not looking. Even in his sleep he's afraid you'll disappear. George, he reaches for you when he's asleep! I wonder if he will ever get over it," he murmured to himself. "I wonder if either of you will."

Lee heard rustling behind him, and he stood, pulling the drapes back and getting ready to snap at someone, when he realised the rustling had been Fred. Fred was tossing and turning, a panicked expression on his face. He was groping blindly next to him, and Lee realised with a start that Fred was looking for George.

"Fred," Lee said, shaking his shoulder. He didn't wake up and his panicked look became terrified, and he was thrashing even more. "FRED!" Lee bellowed, shaking him hard, finally startling him into awareness. Lee inwardly smacked himself; he should have known better than to have Fred sleep in a different bed.

Fred was panting hard and there was a thin layer of cold sweat on his brow. He flew out of the covers and threw the drapes apart, eyes landing on George immediately. He lay as still as ever. Fred didn't say a word and merely sank into the chair, head in his hands.

Lee's heart went out to the poor lad, and he came up and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "C'mon, mate, climb in bed, you still need rest."

Fred didn't waste time feeling uncomfortable about the situation; he simply stood and shifted George gently so he could slid in next to him, tucking him so tight in his side Lee thought that it would have hurt if George wasn't unconscious. Fred closed his eyes, but looked instantly more calm. "Thanks," Fred murmured as he settled himself in for another nap.

Lee gave him a crooked smile, even though he knew Fred couldn't see it. "No problem, mate."

Fred awoke a while later while the sun was still up, and he noticed rustling beyond the drapes. Confused, Fred rubbed at his eyes just as their parents came peeking in. But they weren't alone. For the first time, their entire family had come at once, Bill and Charlie included. Percy didn't count, and Fred wasn't sure he'd forgive him for not caring whether his brother would be okay or not. "Oh my boys," Mrs. Weasley whimpered, holding out her arms for Fred to get up and hug her.

Normally, Fred would protest and tell their Mum to not being such a sap, but he found that he needed this comfort. Fred gingerly got out out bed and tucked George in before he gave his Mum a hug.

"How's he doing?" Bill asked somberly, whipping up a few more chairs. Charlie pulled the drapes back so they all could have more room. Lee, Fred noticed, was not present, and he figured he must have left so they could just be together as a family.

Fred sank into the chair by George's head and said nothing, which worried them all terribly. "How are you doing, honey?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently, coming up behind him to gently run her fingers through Fred's hair.

That was such a loaded question that Fred didn't know if he could articulate it properly. He was scared. Fred was beyond worried about whether George would be okay when he came out of his coma, and he didn't think he could take it if he didn't. And he missed his twin, even though he never left his side. He missed talking to him, laughing with him, planning pranks with him. He missed just George being awake. So, in answer to Mrs. Weasley's question, Fred shrugged, eyes never leaving George.

"Oh Fred, I know it's hard," Mrs. Weasley said tearfully, coming to sit beside him. She pulled him into another hug, and that was when Fred broke. He gripped his Mum back and finally let out nealry four days' worth of sobs into her shoulder. Mum's have this special ability of making you weep even when you were determined not to, something Fred never understood.

Everyone watched as Fred, the brother they had barely ever witness cry, bury his face in their Mum's shoulder. Bill and Charlie hadn't seen George yet, and simply stood there dumbly, looking at their younger brother. "Do...do they know how long he'll be out for?" Bill asked finally. Fred shook his head, though he still did not speak.

"What will happen if...when he wakes up?" Charlie asked.

Fred froze something awful, something that worried the family immensely. He roughly pulled back from his Mum and propped his elbows on his knees, pressing his eyes into his hands. "He will wake," Fred eventually said softly, feeling everyone's gaze on him. "But he...he..." Fred found the words stuck in his throat, and couldn't force them past his lips.

"He what?" Ron demanded, but was cuffed on the head by Bill.

"Leave him alone, Ron," Ginny snapped, her face white. She walked to sit on the other side of George. Ginny bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her knees, sniffling. Mr. Weasley, who had simply stared at George, came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

Fred didn't raise his head for a long time. But when he did, he grabbed George's hand and gave it a squeeze, trying not to notice how it didn't squeeze back. He gazed at George's face as if he would awake if Fred stared long and hard enough. Merlin, he'd give anything for George to open his eyes again. Anything.

He pretended his family wasn't there, even though the low murmurs aggravated him. But he didn't have the strength or the will to yell at them. He didn't have the motivation to do much as of late. He'd barely eaten, and he was sure Lee would be back to force feed him later, but he didn't feel hungry. Which was odd, because normally, Weasley boys had bottomless pits for stomachs.

"Are you alright?" came Charlie's low voice from beside him, murmurs from everyone else still going on.

Fred looked to his left and found Charlie staring at him worriedly, sitting in a chair of his very own. Fred gave a half-hearted shrug once more, but didn't say anything as he turned away.

"You know, I have a couple of new dragon stories if you want to hear them," Charlie offered hopefully, nudging him with his shoulder.

Fred was a bit startled by the suggestion; they hadn't heard dragon stories from Charlie in years. In some ways his words were comforting, and in others, they hurt. "George always did like those," Fred said so quietly it was barely audible.

Charlie grimaced, but then forced a bright smile on his face. "Well, if I remember correctly, so did you."

Fred stared at his fingers, twiddling his thumbs. It was true, he did. But there was something wrong about listening to a story when his twin wasn't beside him to be equally enthralled.

Charlie didn't want to push and changed tactics. "How's your inventing going?" he asked quietly so Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear him.

"Fine."

"Do you guys already have a place?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Fred replied tonelessly.

"Where is it?"

"Diagon Alley."

Charlie frowned at the brief responses. But then he got an idea. "Hey, Fred, what do you say to playing a little Quidditch?"

"No thanks," Fred said stiffly.

"C'mon, you love Quidditch -"

"No thank you," Fred replied almost harshly.

Charlie gave Bill, who had been watching them the entire time, a helpless look. He didn't want to push him, but he knew Fred needed to get some fresh air, forget about George for a bit.

"What's going on?" Bill asked pleasantly, keeping an eye on Fred the entire time.

"I was thinking of going out to play a little Quidditch," Charlie told him. "It's beautiful outside, and I haven't played on the pitch in years."

"Great!" Bill said enthusiastically. "Fred, you coming?"

"No."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Don't be stubborn, c'mon, I heard you aren't playing on the team anymore -"

"Who told you that?" Fred interupted curtly.

Bill looked a bit confused. "Erm, well Ron mentioned that you two weren't on the team. George, for obvious reasons, but why did you stop?"

Fred didn't answer. If Bill couldn't figure it out, he wasn't going to tell him.

Charlie nudged Bill, and gave a pointed look at George. "Ah," Bill said. "Well, we can all play Quidditch when George wakes up, but let's get some fresh air. It's stuffy in here."

Fred closed his eyes. He didn't know if George would be able to play Quidditch once he woke up. And what if George woke up as soon as he left? He'd never forgive himself if he wasn't there when George opened his eyes. "I'm fine," he said cooly, opening his eyes again.

Bill snorted. "Clearly not. C'mon, just for one hour, that's all we're asking."

Fred grumbled angrily, but complied nevertheless. He knew that Bill moreso than Charlie would keep pestering him until he gave in, and he'd rather not set Bill on fire. Although, Fred pondered randomly, with his long hair it would look pretty cool... he smirked evily while he followed Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny outside. He'd have to talk it over with Georgie once...but his thoughts tapered off at that, cringing at the possibility that it might not matter if George woke up wrong.

Fred slouched down to the Quidditch pitch, giving Bill and Charlie glares each time they looked back to see if he was still following. "Cheer up, mate," Charlie said brightly to Fred once they all grabbed their brooms. "It'll be fun. We haven't all played Quidditch together in a long time."

That was true, and normally Fred would be excited about a family game, but not this time. He reluctantly flew into the air, looking particularly disinterested. It was a look they all hadn't seen on him while flying.

Bill and Charlie shared a glance before lifting up into the air, followed by Ginny and a nervous Ron. Neither Bill nor Charlie had seen Ron play before, and he was rubbish when his nerves got the best of him.

They cut out the Beater position all together because they could only sneak the Quaffle and the Snitch, as they were the more docile balls. Bill and Charlie offered to play short hand, so Ginny, Fred, and Ron were all on a team. Charlie, of course, would play Seeker, as would Ginny; she seemed to have developed a talent for it. Ron would play Keeper, Fred would be a Chaser, and Bill would play both positions somehow. They all knew that the teams would have been even with George, but no one voiced it.

All in all, the game was a complete disaster. Ginny and Charlie were really the only ones who did their job correctly. Fred didn't put up much of an effort and merely flew aimlessly all over the pitch, and Ron was too worked up to catch anything. Ginny ended up playing Chaser as well to keep the game from being one-sided, and Bill got confused as to which positions he was in charge of after a while.

But, Fred noted, it had been good to get outside for a bit, even if most of the time he watched with detached amusement as everyone fumbled across the pitch. But once it became clear that he would not be hunted like an animal if he tried to go back up to the castle, he nearly killed himself getting off the broom so fast.

"Oi!" Bill shouted as Fred leapt from ten feet in the air, leaving his broom hovering. "Fred! Watch what you're doing!"

But Fred paid him no mind and tore across the grounds, nearly running over a third year in his haste. He threw open the door and ran inside, startling his parents nearly out of their skins. "Fred," Mrs. Weasley gasped, hand to her heart. But then she got stern. "Don't scare me like that."

Fred ignored her and took his place by George's head, panting. Mr. Weasley frowned, but said bracingly, "How was the game?"

Fred gave a small grunt as his only response, looking at George again. But before his father could press any further, another person came into the room. Fred looked up and was a little surprised to see Mr. Rikialria.

"How is he doing?" he asked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kindly.

"How do you think?" Fred replied rudely, his face set.

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley snapped. She turned back to the Healer and said apologetically, "I'm sorry."

But Mr. Rikialria waved away the apology. "I believe your son and I have gotten to know each other quite well over the months," Mr. Rikialria said smiling.

Mrs. Weasley gave Fred a sharp look while Mr. Weasley asked worriedly, "Is there anything you can do to make him wake up quicker?"

At this, Mr. Rikialria's smile vanished. "I'm afraid not, else I would have given it to him," he replied sadly.

Mrs. Weasley teared up and her husband put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Oh my poor boy."

Fred's features were rigid, his hands balled into fists. But then he looked back at George, at his pale still face, completely unaware of everything that was happening around him, and softened. He reached out to comb his fingers through George's hair without any conscious thought of doing so, feeling the ginger strands he unceremoniously chopped off.

Mr. Rikialria watched him for a few moments before he said, "I'm sorry I can't do more." He seemed to be speaking to Fred alone

Mrs. Weasley didn't see it, and replied, "Nonsense." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. "You've done more than enough for helping us."

Fred looked up at him, searching his face, before nodding slightly and giving him a small smile. It didn't seem like much, but all things considering, it was like Fred had hugged him. Mr. Rikialria visibly relaxed, having needed Fred's understanding before he left again. "I'll be back in a few days to check up on him," he said in parting. "If he awakes before then, contact me immediately."

"Of course," Mr. Weasley said.

Charlie, Bill, Ginny, and Ron all came bustling into the room just as Mr. Rikialria had disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office. Which, given their muddy clothing, was the last straw for said school Healer. "Visiting time is now over," she called sternly, a mullish expression on her face as she cleared up the muddy footprints trailing into her Hospital Wing. Of course, she was directing her order to everyone save for Fred; they had this understanding now that Fred would and Lee were going to stay whether she approved of it or not.

"Try to get some sleep," Mrs. Weasley told Fred as she hugged him. That paved the way for everyone to bade their farewells to the older twin, but the most reaction they got from him was an impassive expression and a few muttered goodbyes.

It wasn't long until it was Fred and George yet again. And it wasn't long until it no longer remained so.

"Fred!" Lee cried, running. "Family...gone?" he gasped, hands on knees.

Fred raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "No, Lee, they're here. They just all happened to come visit in Invisibility cloaks."

"Haha," Lee rolled his eyes, making to sit in the chair.

"Wait!" Fred cried, startling Lee up.

"What?" Lee asked, panicked.

"Ginny's sitting there," Fred smirked.

Lee made a rude gesture and sat in the chair. But as soon as he did, his face went uncharacteristically serious. "Fred, I have something to tell you, and, well...you're not going to like it."

Fred sat up intently, eyes straying to George. "Please tell me it's not about who I think it is."

"Well that would depend on who you're thinking of, but if you're thinking of the same person I think you think I'm thinking of, then yes."

Fred stared at him, trying to work out that sentence. "Yeah, but...I...just tell me, would you? I'm not Hermione, I don't talk riddles."

"It's Umbridge," Lee scowled. "Ever since she's been Head Mistress she's been looking for the two of you. We've managed to lead her away from the Hospital Wing, and I didn't want to tell you, but...well, it's getting harder to do. And now that she has no one to stop her..."

Fred felt like he got dunked in cold water. "She can do whatever the bloody hell she wants," he said through gritted teeth.

"She will do worse than a few hand-slicing detentions, mate," Lee said grimly. "Word is, she's trying to get whipping approved as a source of punishment."

Fred's jaw dropped open. "Wha - she - no -" he spluttered, outraged. "She can't bloody do that! How the hell will that get passed?"

"She's got the Ministry wrapped around her stubby, fat little finger," Lee growled. "I wouldn't be surprised if the bloody sadistic sorry excuse for a human aimed to get the Crucio curse approved next."

The two fell into an uneasy silence, knowing that that was exactly what she would end up doing. "We have to get her out of here, Lee," Fred said seriously. "Even if we do end up escaping her, my brother and sister are still here. They're my family, I can't have them stay in a place where it's acceptable to torture the students."

"I don't know what to do here, Fred," Lee replied almost helplessly. "It seems either way we're all screwed. But we have to do something or she'll find a way to get at you two." But a sudden idea struck him. He snapped a finger and said excitedly, "Hey! What if we just keep wiping her memory?"

Fred, however, shook his head. "People will get suspicious, and she's never alone anymore. We can't wipe the entire school's memory. Anyways, we're both rubbish at it, and Hermione wouldn't do it for us just because."

"But she hates Umbridge too," Lee countered, "and she did it for us all those other times."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to get sent to Azkaban? 'Cause that's what will happen if we get caught."

"Fine, fine," Lee grouched. They both turned back to look at George breathing slow and deep, never faltering. "But we have to do something."

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