Chapter 3 :D

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This chapter is kinda cheesy, but i'm never happy with what I write. So I hope you find like it better then I do...

Nothing, nothing in the world, could compare to the feeling George had now. He was getting Fred back, he was getting EVERYTHING back, and however tired and ill he felt didn't matter now. He needed to plan. For one, he didn't even know where Fred would be at midnight, and obviously the minute he arrived he was going to look for George. Then George could go back the The Burrow with him and they could be family again. Proper family.

It was then George realised he was going to have to wait in the forest all day. Fred was going to be a surprise, and if the Weasleys saw George, they would know something had happened. Mourning men don't suddenly go ecstatic, unless they make a deal with death...

All the energy he had lost seemed to come back to him in a rush of seconds, and there was nothing except sanity to stop George from jumping around like a six-year old, and he didn't have much of that. It was an empty forest, the weird girl had disapparated, and right now there was nothing in front of him except the sun streaming through the trees...

Why not?

A little unsteady on his feet, after shutting himself in a room for what seemed like forever, George put a foot forward, breaking into a sprint. He was fast, Fred and him had always been. Wind in his face, George tore through the forest, sending wildlife fleeing as he anticipated the thought of getting his twin back.

After a long while of running, jumping and shrieking as though he was six again, George collapsed onto the leaves. He would never have done that; Fred would have teased him to extremes, but he wouldn't now. And he wasn't going to let embarrassment spoil his happiness.

The hours dragged by, as they always did when George was excited. It was weird, time only slowed down when he was waiting, or when he was stuck in a detention cleaning out frog guts for Snape. But this waiting wasn't going to end with a lecture on his behaviour, and Fred and him would not be returning to the Gryffindor common room with a pile of last minute homework ahead of them.

After what seemed like weeks or waiting, and making bubbles with his wand to pass the time, George looked up. The sky had finally decided to darken, and looking at the watch that he had recieved for his seventeenth birthday, the twin was told that there would only be three and a half long hours until Fred arrived. Jumping to his feet, George swung his bag over his shoulder, perhaps he could steal some stuff from the shop before that disappeared.

'Crack.'

George was standing in the luckily, almost deserted pub. Tom was out the back getting a drink for the only customer who sat at the bar with their back to him. Treading carefully, as not to attract any attention, he walked to the back door of the dimly lit pub and slipped out the door, shutting it before the lone customer could get a look of him.

After living in Diagon Alley for over a year, George tapped the bricks on the wall absently, his mind on far more important things. As the bricks spread apart, he looked down the street, it had changed so much since Fred and George had abandoned it and fled from the shop one evening. The shops and flats above them were halfway between destruction and repair, some abandoned for good and others already open and thriving, but Diagon Alley had still not gained the magical atmosphere back.

Legs moving faster, George hurried down the somewhat busy street, not stopping to look or talk, just wanting to speed time up a little.

'Hah!' he smirked, triumphant; Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was still standing, and the glass still in one piece. The twins' charms had obviously been too complex for those death eaters, and although the posters looked a little faded and old, there was a fair chance the inside of the shop still stood strong too.

Unlocking the door with a spell only he and Fred had know, George walked carefully into the shop. He had been right; it was dusty and smelt funny, but the posters, the products and the displays were almost untouched. The flat was another matter, but who cared? The shop was going to disappear within hours, and who needed paperwork anyway? Taking his bag off his shoulder again, George walked over to the nearest display and started shoving products in. He was not losing those, even if the shop was going. Actually, thinking of it, George decided he was going to need some clothes, and they could easily disappear. His feet strode up the familiar wooden steps right to the top of the shop, where from a small balcony, one could see everything going on. The door to the flat was hanging on one hinge. That was not the best of signs.

Paper.

A lot of paper.

So the Death Eaters thought that the twins would have their hiding place written on a sheet of paper and shoved in with order forms and price lists. Were they idiots? It was weird, they had searched the little flat so thoroughly yet not touched the products. Perhaps they had given up, finally realising that the Weasley twins were not stupid. The room was a sea of paper and as George walked through into the room that he and Fred had slept in, he noticed that several papers had been torn in anger. Half smirking, he threw open the wardrobe doors, grabbing anything that had any value to the twins.

A few minutes later, bag full of clothes, photos and plans for pranks George was retracing his steps back down the stairs, he didn't want to disappear with the shop, and it was getting seriously close to midnight.

Any minute now... Thought George, looking down at his watch.

'Three,'

George sighed happily, letting go of the past week

'Two,'

He snapped his eyes shut..

'One...'

There was a loud crack, quite like as though someone had apparated in his midst.

Slowly, George opened one eye.

Fred wasn't standing there, and the shop looked perfectly real.

His stomach couldn't have sunk any lower...

Resisting letting out a cry of despair, George closed his eyes and spun. Maybe, maybe Fred was at The Burrow, after all that was home...

'Crack,'

The man swallowed and took a big breath.

This was it.

Slowly opening one eye again, he looked through the darkness towards the garden of The Burrow. Eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he noticed a figure standing at the gate...

A tall, ginger figure.

One identical to George.

He had never run faster. Heart skipping one thousand beats, George practically flew to his twin, who was standing, arms wide open, waiting with a grin on his face and tears rolling down his freckled cheeks.

'Fred. Fred. Fred.' George sobbed, clinging to his twin like a child, sobbing into his hair whilst trying to look at every inch of the man he had once thought dead.

'Whoa,' Fred grinned, wiping a tear from his own cheek as his twin clinged to him, still refusing to let go.'

'Never, never, ever do that again Fred,' George stammered, shaking onto Fred's shoulder.

'I won't,' Fred said, smiling at George's tears of happiness. 'I promise.'