Author notes: so, the twelfth chapter of Must Be Love is finally here. After 5 months of not updating anything! I fell into a pit of despair and kinda gave up on my fan fictions, but some close friends have managed to convince me carry on, which was a remarkable feat so I thank them immensely. This chapter is dedicated to MistWolf101, ittbitty3993 and LunaBerry; they needed my help and I wasn't there for them, and for that I am eternally guilty. So here's chapter twelve of Must Be Love!
Disclaimer: JKR equals Genius!
Chapter 12- I'm scared for us
"All right, that's it, those two are so selfish, come on George, we're going in!" Fred yelled, standing up impatiently. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "You to stay here, in case Bill and Charlie come out and we don't see them."
"Don't you think…" Hermione began. "Don't you think we should stick together? That's what your dad said…"
"He did, I guess, but we just have to make the best we can of the situation." George replied calmly, and without further ado he strode into room 13 with his twin brother.
Hermione glanced across at Ron. He was drooping in his chair looking incredibly unhappy. She squeezed his hand. "What do you think?" she said
Ron looked up, and Hermione could see his eyes were red from crying. "About what?"
The sound of his voice, sounding so terribly sad, made Hermione's heart shrivel inside. "Well, do you think Bill and Charlie are still with your mother, or do you think something's happened to them?"
"I don't know." He replied glumly. "You're the clever one. What do you think?"
"I'm scared, Ron. I'm scared for Harry and Ginny. I'm scared for your mother. I'm scared for your father. I'm scared for Bill and Charlie. I'm scared for Fred and George."
A creaking noise sounded on the stairs, and they realised that footsteps approached.
"And I'm scared for us, Ron."
The twins rounded a corner, and found themselves faces three identical doors.
"You take this one, I'll take that one," Fred said, pointing to two of them. "We'll meet out here in a few minutes, and if neither of us finds anything, we'll go in the third one together. I don't know about you, but there's something weird about this place. Something not quite right. I'm not even sure if we're in the right place…"
George shrugged and entered the door furthest to the left, shutting it carefully behind him. He turned around and gasped. "Fred?" he asked incredulously.
He had entered an office, with cluttered bookshelves covering most of the walls, and a desk crammed in between. It was the figure sitting behind the desk that George was so surprised to see.
His brother stood up awkwardly and gave him a little bow. "What the hell?!" George questioned- there was something odd about this Fred. Then he realised. He and Fred were identical twins, but like all identical twins, they weren't one hundred percent identical. Fred had a tiny freckle on his nose, but George didn't. And standing before him was Fred minus freckle. It wasn't Fred at all; it was himself, he was sure of it. Some weird kind of carbon copy of himself, and it was scary. They were identical apart from the clothes they were wearing and the glazed look in the copy's eyes.
George turned around, reaching for the door handle, but it was gone. It had fallen off the door and onto the floor. His copy started chuckling as George frantically tried to reattach it and get the hell out of there, but with and without magic his efforts had no avail. He turned around again, to see that his copy was now alarmingly close, and holding a knife already red with someone else's blood. George's eyes widened and he looked around for something to fight with. His eyes fell on the metal nameplate on the desk, reading his own name in menacing gold letters. He grabbed it and was soon locked in combat with himself.
The nameplate was a good weapon; soon he had knocked the knife out of his opponent's hand. But still with no way out, that simply wasn't good enough. He pulled out his wand, but every spell he cast was defended or reflected back at him, and soon he was dodging his own spells.
Meanwhile, Fred had entered the room next door, and gasped at what he saw. "George?" he asked incredulously.
He had entered an office, with cluttered bookshelves covering most of the walls, and a desk crammed in between. It was the figure sitting behind the desk that Fred was so surprised to see.
His brother stood up awkwardly and gave him a little bow. "What the hell?!" Fred questioned- there was something odd about this George. Then he realised. He and George were identical twins, but like all identical twins, they weren't one hundred percent identical. Fred had a tiny freckle on his nose, but George didn't. And standing before him was George plus freckle. It wasn't George at all; it was himself, he was sure of it. Some weird kind of carbon copy of himself, and it was scary. They were identical apart from the clothes they were wearing and the glazed look in the copy's eyes.
Fred turned around, reaching for the door handle, but it was gone. It had fallen off the door and onto the floor. His copy started chuckling as Fred frantically tried to reattach it and get the hell out of there. It was a weird laugh, and Fred turned round to get a better look at the other person in the room. He was alarmed to find that his copy was now even closer, and holding a knife already stained with blood. At last he got the handle to fit the door and sped out, slamming it behind him, but not before the knife went whizzing through the door, narrowly missing his shoulder.
He stood, panting, for a moment, and then he decided he had to find George. Picking up the knife, he braced himself, and then yanked open the door through which his brother had entered.
A curious sight met his eyes. He was in an identical office to the one next door, and before him, locked in combat, was his brother and… his brother. Two Georges, equally matched, looking exactly the same, apart from their clothes. Fred struggled to remember what George had been wearing, but try as he might, that was not his area of expertise.
"Help me Fred!" screamed one of them, who was being attacked by the other with a metal nameplate bearing the name George Weasley. Without thinking, he threw the knife he was holding, and it slammed into the chest of the attacker. He crumpled to the ground, and the other turned to Fred and cackled.
"Thank you for taking care of your brother for me, Fred!" he said slyly. Fred was angry.
"George, this is no time to play games, we have to go and find the others!"
"I am not George. George is there." He pointed at the floor, where the limp figure of Fred's brother lay, unmoving.
Fred's eyes widened, and he started to shake. "No, no, no! George, stop it! Just stop it!"
The boy standing before him seemed to crumble before his eyes, and soon all that was left was a pile ash on the floor.
Fred gasped and crawled over to his brother, his brother who he had thrown a knife at. He rolled George over, crying out as he saw the knife still trapped between two of George's ribs. He ripped George's shirt off to get a better look at the knife wound, and carefully eased the knife out, pressing the shirt down on the wound to stop too much blood escaping. He sat and cried like this, wondering what on earth he could possibly do, and was just standing up to try and find help when the door slammed shut loudly, with such force that the handle flew off, hit the desk and smashed into a hundred tiny pieces.
Earlier that morning, Arthur Weasley had arrived at the Ministry, not quite knowing what to expect. What he found waiting for him was a tall man wearing all black and a menacing look on his face.
"We were wondering when you'd arrive, Arthur Weasley." He said. His voice was gruff, unkind. "Follow me."
Arthur did what he, said following in silence. There was an unspoken tension between the two men, and Mr Weasley was almost glad when they reached a dull grey door which seemed to mark the end of their journey. He was less pleased, however, when he heard what the men inside had to say to him.
"I'll be brief, Weasley," said Laurence Nubale, who was about as far up in the ministry as you could get without being the Minister of Magic. "Although your daughter has already become of age, she disappeared from her cell this morning, and as her father, we now need to hold you accountable for her actions until justice can be served. She is charged with the manslaughter of a child, as you probably know, as is her partner, Harry Potter, who I understand is a regular at the Weasley… er… estate. Now, one of the members of the Muggle police, name Darren Riser I believe, went to give them breakfast. He didn't return for quite a while, and so a man named Officer Harshall went to see if everything was all right. It most certainly wasn't. The two prisoners were no where to be see, and Riser was dead on the floor. He had no visible marks on his body whatsoever; therefore it is obvious magic was used. Therefore your daughter is now charged of manslaughter, murder, and of breaking out of a prison cell. Your name is a disgrace to the Ministry, Weasley, and therefore we have no choice but to bid you farewell; you are no longer wanted here. We suggest you find your daughter and her boyfriend quickly, and then maybe the charges you have to answer to won't be so great."
But Arthur Weasley was no longer listening. Around the bit in Nubale's 'brief' speech saying that his name was a disgrace to the Ministry, he had sunk to the floor in a dead faint.
The man who had met him when he entered the ministry picked him up and flung him unceremoniously over one shoulder. He took him back to the entrance and lay him down next to the fountain, not trying to wake him up or help him in any way.
A few minute later, Bill and Charlie were escorted into the Ministry, by two guards not unlike Arthur's. They were too distraught about their own situation, however, to notice their father's limp body lying next to the fountain.
"You will have a trial at twelve o'clock, boys," one of the guards told them. They started to protest, but he shushed them. "You will stay with your father in his department until then." The boys relaxed slightly.
When they reached the Department for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, the guards left them alone and Bill and Charlie swung open the door, eager to hear what was going on with Harry and Ginny, and grateful that with their dad on their side they might at least have a chance of sorting these mysterious circumstances out once and for all.
The first thing they noticed when they greeted their father, who was sitting at his desk, was that his eyes were strangely glazed.
Author notes: Well, I hope that chapter more than made up for a lack of update recently! Did I say recently?! Nearly half a year! But what a way to end a chapter! I've ended with cliffies before, but never five in the same chapter! I feel like a devil child! Be sure to let me know what you think of this chapter. Have my writing skills gone rusty after being down in my pit all this time of have they gotten better? And is there anything you would like me to improve, or include in the story? From now on, it's all about you guys, and I don't want to let you down. For the moment, I'm just going to concentrate on this story, and then continue with another once I'm done. SO please, please review, it means the world to me! -Georgina-