Yeeeeeeah :D Chapter eight :D Stuff starting to happen ;)

Annabeth Black – Good that you know the answer... because even I don't know what you're talking about XD

ChocolateMnMs- Thanks for the review :D It's nice to have some motivation to write

London was in a deep sleep by the time the box surfaced in the muggle city again. The occasional group of night clubbers, often too drunk to notice anything, walked past. The twins didn't need the invisibility cloak anymore, and hadn't really planned any further than leaving the Ministry, but they needed to get properly ready if they were going to search the world, starting with every place linked to magic in the UK. And travelling wouldn't be easy either; the Ministry would notice a portkey but nobody could just apparate to a random location in Scotland. It wasn't possible.

Feet leading the way, the twins walked the only familiar path, right through London, gaining several strange looks. They had left the Burrow in a similar state to how it had been before Fred had returned, although the kitchen smelt slightly more burnt now. The twins were taking themselves to the only place they knew in London; Diagon Alley. The flat above the home contained most of Fred's and some of George's stuff. They had abandoned it on Spring evening to flee from the death eaters, leaving most of their stuff behind. George wasn't sure if he had told Fred what state it was in. Last time there had been a lot of mess.

Pulling their jackets a little tighter around themselves, they approached the Leaky Cauldron, which was, was always, full of magical people and creatures. London streets may have been no problem, but this was an obstacle.

'Can I have the cloak George,' Fred said. George nodded and gave him the cloak, his mind picking apart the tone of Fred's voice. He hadn't said anything since being in that room in the Ministry, and although George had no idea what his twin heard, he could tell it wasn't anything good. Fred was always open and talkative, even after he came back. The twins could talk for hours, but George knew Fred wasn't going to start a conversation about this.

'Fred, the shop's uh, in kind of a mess,' George said, picturing the paper lying everywhere. Something inside Fred snapped a little then, breaking him out of the trance he had been in.

'Typical...' Fred sighed, 'Death eaters. Don't even clean up after themselves. Though I bet you knew that... There was a lot of rubble after that battle,' he smirked.

'Yeah,' grinned George, glad that Fred had responded. 'Filch is probably still sweeping...'

Fred's own face broke into a grin at that thought. 'Serves him right though... shame I can't be there to see it instead of off chasing up some teenage girl.'

Both twins laughed at that statement before Fred pulled a more serious face.

'Angelina,' Fred started with a slight frown. 'Did she, uh, mention anything about me?'

George cast his mind back, smirking a little at the fact Fred was so concerned about girls, something he would be badly teased for.

'I don't know,' he replied, 'she came to your, you know, but I didn't speak to her, I didn't speak to anyone.'

Fred nodded, muttering something darkly under his breath, but stopping there, as they had reached the shop. With the correct wand movements, George opened the door, and walked in, glad he was first as not to see Fred's reaction.

'Those... little...,' Fred swore darkly, still angry about Angelina with the matter of a destroyed shop on top.

'Well, we won't be here long,' George added, making his way to the stairs that led to the flat.

'How the hell d'you get to Scotland anyway?' Fred asked, racing George up the stairs. George shrugged. Neither of the twins was really good at the whole planning thing.

'Portkey...' he suggested half-heartedly... 'Alicia Spinnet works in that part of the Ministry, maybe we could ask her.'

'Correction,' Fred winked, 'you could ask her.'

George gave Fred a playful shove.

'Sixth year, sixth year Fred. You really think I still like her? And anyway, you're one to talk, who was complaining about a certain Angelina three seconds ago.'

A full scale shoving war could have erupted except for the fact the flat door was now open, and Fred was gaping in at the sea of paper that even George could have sworn had grown since his last visit.

'I see your point,' he laughed slightly, trying and failing to resist his temptation to jump right into the paper.

After several immature minutes of a paper fight, George grasped his maturity back for a minute to speak.

'Pack Fred, we really can't stay long here... people will notice the amount of noise you're making.'

Fred sighed, dropping his paper snowman and, yawning loudly, making his way over to the flat's only bedroom the twins shared. The bedroom was a wreck, but less than the living room. The hammocks Fred and George slept on were slightly ripped, but the twins packed them anyway, along with all their clothes, blankets, and brooms. The tent the twins had once purchased with their money from the shop was packed, unused and waiting. But packing was the easy part. Planning was important, but neither twin wanted to. George was easily distracted, and Fred was extremely restless. Eventually, after some decision, Fred and George put the hammocks back up. If they were going to get a portkey, they'd have to stay for at least a short while, and George had eventually given in and agreed to Fred's idea of going to Alicia.

'You have to look the part too,' Fred yawned, lying in his hammock. If they had to plan, it would be last thing at night when they were too tired to do anything else.

'What do you mean?' came the response. 'I do look like me.'

'Like normal you, you need to look like the George that hasn't seen me for however many weeks,' Fred replied.

'Oh, yeah. Which means you'll need to hide too; we can't let Alicia in on the plan. I will look the part if I don't get any sleep, which is going to happen at the rate your going,' George said, looking at Fred's face which was, although tired, alert.

'Good idea,' Fred said thoughtfully. 'I'll make you some coffee,' and with a grin, he leapt out of his hammock, George following slowly.

Several hours later, Fred fell asleep on the table, not having any coffee himself. George, six espressos more awake than his twin, shook himself. He still hadn't recovered from the sleepless nights after Fred's death. They may have been twins, but Fred and George slept very differently. Fred kicked and shouted in his sleep, yet George always lay still, and managed to sleep through. Mrs Weasley always said that George could sleep through and earthquake, and he guessed she was right. But this night in particular, Fred was different. He wasn't shouting, but muttering, which worried his twin a little. Now that there was nothing to talk about or focus on, the mystery of the archway and the voices Fred heard came back hauntingly. Before long, Fred was starting to talk in his sleep.

'Closer... come... closer... archway.'

George jumped, the mention of the archway waking him more than all the coffee. It disconcerted him slightly, Fred hearing that stuff and instantly wanting to get away. Closer to the archway? But Fred had practically been touching it.

'Storm... coming.'

It was the storm again. Fred had mentioned something about the storm back in the room.

'What storm?' George spoke out loud, with the slightest hope Fred would maybe respond, but to his disappointment, his brother just gave a louder snore and stopped the talking altogether.