I own it not

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

Harry returned to the common room to find it deserted. He frowned, having expected to find Ron and Hermione back there. A shift in the darkness made him re-examine the room. But it wasn't Ron or Hermione that emerged into the light cast by the dancing fire, it was Fred.

"Harry?" Fred had obviously thought he was someone else as well and collapsed into a nearby armchair, eyebrows close together, breathing hard.

Harry sat down opposite Fred, dumping the many books onto the table. "What's wrong, Fred?"

Fred looked up at Harry, who was surprised to find tears streaming down the face that was littered with freckles. "I think….I think George is hurt, Harry. And I think it has to do with the tournament."

Harry shook his head, indicating that Fred was still not making any sense. Fred ran a hand through his hair, reminding Harry of Ron for an instant and bringing back the fears of his own friends.

"Lee thinks I'm off my rocker, but George has been missing all day. He left with McGonagal during our last class." He faced the fire now, twirling his dark wand in his thin fingers. "And you remember what the egg said 'we've taken what you'll sorely miss'."

Harry hadn't thought about this, but it made sense. George would, of course, be the thing  Not a thing. He reminded himself. It was never a thing. The person that Fred would miss most. Ron was his, obviously. And Hermione…was Krum's. This new take on the task made Harry gulp audibly.

"See, you believe me." Fred got up, suddenly pacing in front of the fire. "And I think that they're in the lake somewhere. My brother is in the lake!" he was suddenly angry and red sparks erupted from the tip of his wand.

"Fred…" Harry began, trying to mask his own worries. "Fred, I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to George." Or Ron. He added silently. Fred stopped pacing and stood in front of the fire, breathing hard.

"George, Harry." Fred began, his voice heavy with emotion. "God, this is so low. I didn't want this!" He seemed to deflate. "And to bring George into it….it's not fair."

"Life isn't fair." Harry said dully, repeating the old adage. Fred let out a sigh, his fist beating uselessly against the mantelpiece.

They were like that for some time. Harry was half-convinced that Fred had fallen asleep standing up when he said. "And you? Who'd they take?" he barely paused before he answered his own question. "Ron."

"And Hermione." Then adding, at Fred's questioning look, "For Krum, I think."

Fred whirled around, "I think…I think I'm going to bed. Goodnight Harry."

"'Night Fred."

The lake was dark. Harry found himself swimming beside Fred as they neared the mer-city. Fred' s head was distorted because of the charm he had used but even so Harry could see the look of pained disbelief that had been their since their conversation the night before.

The way to the statue could not have been more clear if there had been signs. Harry was surprised that he and Fred were the first ones there. The heads of his friends seemed pale against the darkness of the deep lake. Ron was tied between Hermione and a little girl. George was bound by a separate rope. It looked as if there had been a fight. Dried blood caked a deep wound on his shoulder and he seemed paler than the others if possible.

Fred emitted a low moan that was audible through the bubble he wore on his head. Harry understood his emotions. He was feeling them himself.

Harry tried to borrow a spear from a nearby merperson, who merely laughed. Frustrated that he was not better prepared, Harry dived to the bottom and returned with a sharp rock. He hacked at the ropes and they fell away within a minute. He handed the rock to Fred who had been trying unsuccessfully to sever the ropes with magic. Holding Ron by the neck of his robes he started upwards.

His head broke the surface just as the effects of the Gillyweed were wearing off. He dragged Ron the rest of the way up. As air reached his face he suddenly expelled a great spout of water. "Wet, this, isn't it?"

Harry wasn't listening. He looked around, knowing that Fred hadn't been too far behind. Ron had noticed too. "Have you seen…?" his voice trailed off at the sight of a sudden uprush of air bubbles. Fred's head emerged from the water. In his arms was George. More cuts had been added to the old ones and covered his face and arms. One particularly nasty one sliced open his chest. Harry and Ron both gasped.

"Help!" Fred cried, very white and shaking. "Help! Please!" He was struggling to hold his twin up. He hadn't re-awaken as Ron had. Harry's heart started beating much too fast.

A splash next to them alerted them to the arrival of Percy. He, Ron, Harry, and Fred tugged the unconscious George to shore. Madame Pomfrey was at the side of the lake, looking distressed. "Stand aside!" she commanded with authority. Harry, Ron, and Percy backed away. Harry and Ron were shivering in the cold February air. Fred stayed next to George, half-hunched over him. For the first time Harry noticed that Fred had far worse cuts on his arms, though none were as deep as the one on George's chest. He had obviously tried to take most of the beating from whatever attacked him.

Madame Pomfrey's face softened at Fred's reluctance to move. "He needs help now, Mr.Weasley. But you can stay close."

Professor McGonagal, abandoning her place in the stands, wrapped thick blankets around Harry and Ron. She tried to wrap up Fred as well. "No, Professor. Please, just help George." His face was so beseeching, his tone so helpless that Harry had the urge to reach out and hug him. Percy did, wrapping his thin arms around his brother, who was taller than he was. "He's alright, Freddie." Percy muttered, never taking his eyes off George, who still hadn't regained consciousness.

Hermione and Krum climbed out the lake next. Hermione stood next to Ron. "What's going on?" she asked, looking from Ron to Fred to George. "What happened?"

"Dunno." Ron said, looking upset. He was still shaking, though he was nearly dry.

Professor McGonagal was leaning over George now. "How did this happen?" she asked sharply, her fingers reaching for George's neck.

"Grindylows. Massive ones. At least eight feet across." Fred's voice was detached, expressionless, his eyes transfixed on George. "Attacked me from behind. I nearly dropped him." He shuddered at the thought. "Wands don't work underwater. I was tired. I couldn't fight. I tried to take most of it but one got a lucky swipe." He gazed imploringly at McGonagal. "Please, Professor, is he going to live?"

"Yes." Was her short reply. She waved her wand once over George's body as Madame Pomfrey tried to clean out the wounds. "But it was close. He won't be awake for…three days, I think."

Fred sank to the ground, his body still trembling. He looked like ht couldn't stand up even if he wanted too. Harry through his own towel around the boy and Percy took his hands, rubbing them to warm them up. "Shock, I think." He muttered to no one in particular. Fred was gazing with unseeing eyes at the place where Fred had been and Harry knew he was remembering the strange, glassy look of George's eyes. Then the tears started flowing.

Please review.