Author's Note

We got this idea when we'd read A Wand for Skitter, and gratually it came to fruition. We have just over one complete arc, and outlines for another one or two. We intend to keep going with this, however there might be time between arcs - we'll see!
This is our first time writing a fan fiction, comments and feedback welcome.
Enjoy!

Fred coughed and spluttered, water coming out of his mouth. His throat stung like a whole load of seawater had gone down the wrong way. Where had all this water come from? Where was Percy? And Ron? His wand was gone too.

There was…

A memory...

Something…

Something he couldn't grasp and the harder he tried the faster it faded; like a bizarre dream he didn't understand.

He moved his head a little and realised he didn't recognise his surroundings. Had the explosion done that much damage? No... That didn't explain the water. His chest felt odd like someone had pressed down on it, hard. A man beside him spoke.

"Oh good, you're still with us. I wasn't sure you'd make it. All too often people are already a goner by the time we start CPR." This man had… an American accent? What? And what did he mean by CPR?

Fred sat up slowly, looking around. There were hundreds of unknown people around him. There were about twenty beds similar to his, all occupied by people who were covered in blood, all with horrific injuries. This part of the sight was not unlike what he'd been seeing around Hogwarts, but with a lot more water. A large group of people were piling sandbags by a large crack in a wall that was gushing water, several others trying to stop as much water as possible getting to the area where Fred was sitting. He caught sight of his body; his robes were gone and he was wearing what looked like muggle clothes. The man beside him spoke again.

"Are you ok, sir? Any injuries you think you might have other than the obvious lungs full of water?"

"Umm… no, I think I'm ok, thank you. My chest feels slightly bruised, though."

"Ah, that'll be from the compressions. Better a bruised chest than dead, though, eh?" He made a fair point. "So you're a Brit, from across the pond?" He made a poor attempt at an English accent.

"Yeah. Can you tell me where I am? I seem to have misplaced my memories…"

"You must have hit your head, or possibly lack of oxygen to the brain. Not to worry. You're in Brocton Bay, Massacheusettes. The date is May 15th, 2011."

May 15th? 2011? He hadn't just lost thirteen days, which could be plausible, but thirteen years! And judging by everyone else around him also speaking with American accents he deduced he must be in America. Where was George? The rest of his family? What had happened to Voldemort and the battle for Hogwarts? He didn't have time to think about that, he was clearly not in a place he could relax.

Fred heard a noise by what looked like a twenty foot wide vault door. The door fell out away from the room, letting more water in from outside so that the people standing in the main room were almost waist deep. Someone stepped down into the concrete room. She was skinny and taller than average, with a dark skin-tight suit and a mask with yellow eyes. She seemed to have armour on parts of her body. Was this how people dressed in the future? Or was it America? He went to quip to George about the eyes in her mask and her long thin limbs making her look bug-like, but stopped as he realised he was alone. He heard a girl's voice call from outside telling everyone to get out. People started moving towards the opening, some carrying kids or beloved pets above the water.

Fred's blood froze as screams of mortal terror came from outside. Whatever caused those shrieks had to be worse than even Voldemort. What kind of world had he found himself in? There was panic, people stopped trying to get out and several tried to get back in from outside. People were jostled, shoved and trampled in the chaos.

A great head loomed through the door, followed by a huge body to match; although head was a loose description. There was no nose or mouth or eyes, unless you counted the four cracks with orbs that glowed green from inside. No, Fred only thought 'head' because it was roughly at the top of the body. The creature was so large it hardly fit through the opening. It might have been the smaller space around it compared to Hogwarts and the grounds, but this thing seemed to be even greater than the giants the Death Eaters had had on their side. It pushed its way through and straightened as much as it could, towering over the terrified people. It had a tail, maybe forty foot long, and it lashed at the cowering group, killing several of them. Another tail shaped out of water - like a watery gemino spell - lashed and took out several more. Fred never thought he'd see the day when he longed to be in a battle against Death Eaters, Hogwarts being blown to pieces and friends falling around him, but if this was what this new world had to offer, he was beginning to feel that it was far more terrifying than the one he'd left behind.

The monster repeated the movement. He could see a blond woman screaming and hiding her face in a man's shoulder. The creature took a step forward and Fred could just about see the masked girl who had come in from outside slip behind it and out of the door. He guessed she could see no way to save the people inside and had decided to save herself.

The beast was awful to watch, cutting down people left, right, and centre, like they were nothing. Maybe, in its mind, they were. Screams and splashing filled the air, Fred didn't know what to do. He wished he knew where his wand was, but came to the conclusion that if this thing was anything like giants or trolls he probably couldn't have done any harm to it on his own anyway.

Something made the monster lurch, it swiped with a large claw and fell on its side. Fred saw the masked girl get to her feet and start out of the door with the creature following her, apparently slightly injured. Maybe she had just gone out to get a better angle to attack, or find a weapon. Either way, it appeared the danger was past for now.

Fred sank back on the hard bed, it wasn't comfortable but it was better than nothing. He started to wonder how he had got here, what was going on. Would his family be in England, thirteen years older? Would he suddenly be younger than George? Oh he'd never let George live that down; forever thirteen years younger and (naturally) more handsome than his aged twin brother. Brilliant. He hoped it'd be that simple, just a case of finding the American Ministry for Magic, explaining his situation and getting portkeyed back to England. They'd believe him, right? Things like this must have happened before - he couldn't be the only one.

How was he supposed to find the American Ministry? And without a wand? He'd have to find a witch or wizard to ask, maybe he'd look for robes or especially strange muggle clothes. Why didn't they teach you where foreign ministries were at Hogwarts? Surely that was useful knowledge; more useful than divination, anyway. Although, he admitted to himself, it might have been taught in the time after he and George had left to start Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Oh, that was a point - would that still be going? Maybe an international chain by now. If he happened to find a branch here that would be perfect. They'd surely have ways of contacting HQ and he'd have a direct line to George.

Fred looked at the devastation around him. What could have happened to the world to make this be its future? Had Voldemort won? Bred giants with… Fred didn't even know what. Should he ask about the creature, would that make him stand out as out of the ordinary? Everyone around him was terrified, and rightly so, but no one seemed surprised by this beast. Better stay quiet for now.

The panic subsided slightly as the monster had left. There was crying and whimpering from people and animals but the screaming had stopped. People were tending to the wounded, doing the best they could. There clearly weren't any witches or wizards in here, all the medical care looked very muggle-like. Fred even saw someone getting - what were they called? Dad had tried it when he was in St. Mungo's after the snake mauled him… Mum had been furious… Stitches! That was it. Eurgh. It looked very painful and rather disgusting.

Eventually some people in some kind of uniforms came in, with bags and big boards of some sort - muggle stretchers maybe?

"Right, folks, Scion has chased Leviathan into the sea. We've been given the all clear to empty the shelters and take anyone who needs it to a hospital. I guess we'll start with those on the cots. If everyone else could please leave the area in a quiet and orderly fashion, we have teams outside with shock blankets, some basic food and clean water. Please don't shove each other and please be patient. We'll get around to helping all of you as soon as we can, but being impatient will make our job harder and everything take a lot longer."

They moved through the water to the area where Fred was sitting, asking people if they could move, what injuries they had and if they could walk on their own. Fred informed them that he was ok, had some memory loss, but could walk on his own. He was escorted to where people were gathering outside and loaded onto a bus with the others who weren't in need of immediate help. When it was full, the bus started to jolt away, Fred guessed, towards a muggle hospital. He found himself wishing he could find a medi-witch or wizard instead. He didn't fancy the idea of muggle hospitals. He'd heard from some of the muggleborns at school that muggles often had a fear of them. A place of healing that people were scared of didn't sound like any place of healing he wanted to be in.

As they jostled and bumped along he looked out of the window of the bus. The landscape he saw was devastated. Fallen buildings, piles of rubble and washed up cars. Bodies and body parts strewn throughout the streets. The water must have washed away most of the blood. There were huge cracks running through the ground. Was this how everywhere looked in the future? Was London like this? Was it simply so much damage that the magical population couldn't fix it without breaking the Statute of Secrecy? Whoever had to clear this up had a hell of a job ahead of them. They stopped outside one of the buildings that hadn't fallen. There were people hurrying around outside, carrying injured people or shouting at the people standing guard, asking for names of people inside, asking to find out if their loved ones were there or if they were lost in the debris of the ruined city. It was a heartbreaking sight; Fred wanted to ask for his family, for George, but he knew it wouldn't be worth it. If they hadn't been with him when he woke up they most likely weren't here at all, or had been… Fred avoided finishing that thought.

Once he was inside, someone sat him down on a bed and asked him to remove his shirt. She pressed a small cold circular thing to his chest, then to his back, apparently listening. She then held his eyes open and shined a light in them, peering at him from behind the light. Muggle medicine was weird. She made some notes on a form and asked him about any pain or injuries he might have. He said his throat and chest were sore but that was about it. He did have some memory loss, though, and didn't know where he lived or if he had family in the area. The woman asked if he remembered his name, he gave it without thinking and then realised maybe he should have used another name, being in a new place and time and having no idea what had happened to him. Strange things happened to wizards who messed with time and now he might be one of them. Oh well, too late now.

"Ok, Mr. Weasley. I'll put your name on the list so you will be notified if anyone asks for you and they will be told that you are ok. We'd like to keep you here for a few days under supervision, you have some signs of concussion but no sign of head trauma. This is unusual so we'd like to see if your memory comes back to you. For now, maybe check your wallet to see if there are pictures or anything that might jog your memory? I'll be back in a bit to check on you."

"Ok, thank you, doctor."

A wallet… Wasn't that what muggles use to carry their money around in? And those plastic things… He could check his pockets anyway. He found what he guessed to be a wallet, and opened it to have a look inside. There were some loose coins that he didn't recognise, they weren't the same as the muggle money Harry and Hermione had shown him. He saw a picture of a man - no, a boy - he didn't recognise. It was on a bit of plastic that said 'Winslow High StudentID' at the top. There was a name, Greg Veder, and a date of birth. Winslow High must be the school this kid went to. Fred wondered why he had this kid's wallet. He wanted to make fun of the kid's hair but George wasn't there to appreciate it. He found a few other bits of plastic he didn't understand and some bits of paper that had been damaged by the water. He checked the other pocket and found something hard. He judged it to be about two by three inches, roughly square. Half of it was blank and the other half was covered in letters, but they weren't in alphabetical order. He experimented and they appeared to be buttons, making a little click sound when pressed and again when let go. There were some other buttons with symbols he didn't recognise. It didn't appear to do anything. Maybe it was for people to learn to write in some way, or maybe it had been broken by all the water and pressure. Everything else seemed pretty ruined.

He was distracted from his findings by a noise. There was a man head to toe in blue metal lying on the ground, with a group of people around him. Fred couldn't quite hear what was being said but there seemed to be some kind of argument going on. Damn. he should always have some extendible ears on him. George would. He saw the girl from the shelter, with the yellow eyed mask, the one who had saved everyone from the huge beast. Now that he noticed it, everyone in that group was wearing a mask, apart from one girl who had her mask on top of her head. One woman was hefting a muggle weapon, it was directed at the man on the floor. A girl in a black and purple suit and a domino mask was looking towards Fred, eyeing him in an odd way as though slightly confused by his presence. The dynamic and feelings in the group seemed to shift, the girl who had saved the people in the shelter took a step back and then started running out of the hospital. The room was tense. Fred realised they weren't the only ones in these funny get ups, there were several of them around. He couldn't help wondering again if this was american fashion or the future.

Thinking about George made Fred miss his twin. They'd been inseparable from birth. If he couldn't see George, he'd have to make do with talking to himself in the bathroom mirror. They knew each other well enough that each could anticipate the other's responses to a conversation, even when they were on their own, and could therefore get some of the input desired when they missed each other; with the added benefit of seeing their brother's face when they looked in a mirror. He got up and asked a nurse where the bathroom was, he pointed him in the right direction and Fred headed off to have a conversation with his brother. He wasn't sure if it was just the muggle clothes, but as he walked he noticed his body felt slightly off. Probably just the concussion, though. He reached the bathroom and pushed through the door, looking forward to seeing George's face again. He moved over to the mirror and stood in front of it. He blinked. Blue eyes looked at him from under blond hair in a stupid hairuct. Fred frowned. The face in the mirror did the same. His chest felt tight, he recognised this face as the one from the student ID he'd found in the wallet. He must be polyjuiced as an American high school kid for some reason. What would happen when the polyjuice wore off? He hadn't discovered a flask of any sort in his pockets. What would the nurses and doctors think? If he was polyjuiced maybe George was around here somewhere also polyjuiced so they couldn't recognise each other. He really had been looking forward to seeing his partner in crime and he felt strange not having George's face to comfort him. Feeling slightly deflated and even more confused, he headed back to his bed to ponder.

After a few fairly uneventful days in the hospital where his memory didn't come back to him, Fred was allowed to leave. The doctor who had been checking up on him gave him the news.

"Ok, Mr. Weasley, you're free to go. No one has asked for you but that doesn't mean they won't. Do you have a place to go or some way we can contact you if someone does ask?"

Muggle contacts… What did they use? A tephelone was it? Either way, he didn't have one. "No, sorry, I don't."

"Not to worry, the shelters are up and running as usual after an Endbringer attack. You should be able to find one with some room and they offer clean up or construction work to help get the city back on its feet, so you can pay for your keep like that. Let them know your situation and they'll keep in contact with us and let you know if anyone tries to contact you."

"Ok, thank you very much, doctor, for everything."

"Not to worry, Mr. Weasley, hope not to see you too soon! Good luck"

Fred bade goodbye and left. She'd given him directions to a shelter that she thought would have room and work for him and he headed there right away.