In answer to questions: Yeah, i'm still alive. Yeah, i'm still writing. Yeah I'm forgetful as heck, and yeah, I do like bagels.

I'm sorry for the wait...

Pwease review ;)

'Huh? What?'

George had awoken with a start in the middle of the night. Poking his head over the mess of blankets he was under, he looked around the tent with a bleary eye. It was completely dark except for the moonlight silhouetting a tree onto the canvas wall, and Fred was still snoring loudly in his sleep from the bed next to George's. It couldn't have been him that had woken George, but it was definitely something.

His remaining ear perked up, George jumped slightly at a sound from outside the tent. He was used to the rustle of leaves, crickets, birds and the occasional badger or fox, but this was a different noise. It sounded, if anything, human. This worried him a bit, random muggles didn't just make noises in forests in the middle of the night... what if the ministry had tracked the twins down somehow?

The noise sounded again, like a whisper, very quiet but surely human. He sighed, something was definitely out there, and it wasn't just George's imagination. Taking a quick look around the tent, George jabbed his snoring twin in the ribs to wake him. He could deal with the noise on his own, but Fred would never be able to forgive him if it was Ministry people...

Several jabs and nudges later, Fred finally stirred, mumbling grumpily.

'What?' he moaned, sitting up, 'are you mental George? It's the middle of the bloody night...'

'Someone's out there,' George muttered, trying not to be too loud or dramatic.

'And...' Fred replied, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to sink back into his pillow, 'it was probably just a squirrel George.'

George glared. 'Squirrels don't whisper in English, Fred.'

That phrase was obviously good enough.

Wands lit, the twins poked their heads out of the tent's excuse for a door, their faces getting used to the moonlight and the cold air.

'Hello?' George said quietly, sticking a slippered foot out of the tent, 'anyone there?'

Fred was on the verge of rolling his eyes when a response came, causing both of the Weasleys to almost literally jump out of their skins, despite how quiet it was.

'Y-yes. Who is it?'

'Us,' Fred said distractedly, following his twin out of the tent and round the back... 'Uh, where are you?'

With a crunch of leaves, George saw a smallish dark figure get up from beside a tree, and walk over to them. It was definitely a human alright, and by their size, probably a child. With a look at each other, George opened his mouth.

'Are you ok? Do you want to come into the tent with us?' He began. So the chance that this person was magical was minimal, so Fred and George would be unable to use magic, but after they'd seen the inside of the tent, they would have to bloviate them anyway, and they couldn't exactly tell them to stay outside in the cold. That was inhumane.

'Well...' they began '...it can't hurt, I guess.'

The three figures, two towering over the other, walked back to the tent, trying to be as quiet as possible despite the fact there was nobody else out there to hear them. George reckoned it was something about the night that made them tiptoe into the canvas rather than walk in normally.

George showed the person a seat, and Fred lit the small tent lights with his wand. The gloom faded, the tent now a pale golden colour inside. Once it spread to the figure's face, George gaped slightly. He figured it would be someone female from the voice, but someone a little older than... well... however old she was. Her eyes had the bloodshot look of someone who had been crying and hadn't slept for weeks. Her frizzy brown hair was greasy and matted, making her look like a younger, more tired, and slightly prettier version of Hermione. The twins offered her a chair, which she sat in, and they flopped onto the sofa, facing her.

After a few slightly awkward seconds of silence, Fred spoke up.
'What's your name?'

Of all the questions George would've asked, that would have been pretty low on the list, certainly after 'why the heck are you hiding in a forest?' and 'how come you didn't react to our magic tent.'
'Cassie,' she replied, 'well, actually Cassandra... but Cassie's fine...'
Fred and George exchanged looks. Who in their right mind named their child Cassie?
'What's your surname Cassie?' George asked coaxingly, trying to stay patient and alert despite the constant yawns he felt coming on.
She shrugged, making it quite obvious she wasn't going to tell them for a while.
George gave Fred a look, the kind of look that said 'she's gonna be a stubborn one' and Fred half nodded, surveying Cassie.
'And why are you here?' he asked, 'don't you want to be with your parents?' he said, lowering his voice a little as if it were a taboo subject.
The look on Cassie's face was enough to make both Weasleys feel a little guilty for asking. It was kind of obvious she didn't want to answer, but eventually forced herself to.
'They're – they're dead...'
George frowned, not wanting to say anything or having any response – nothing was helpful for the week that he lived without Fred, but Cassie seemed pretty strong, especially for a twelve-ish year old. But his head was literally bursting with questions.
'I'm sorry...' Fred began, but she shook her head.
'Don't be... they died for a good reason.'
Seeing the no longer polite, but just plain curious faces of the twins, she continued without a prompt.
'My parents fought in the battle of Hogwarts – they weren't aurors, but they were against all the pureblood stuff. My brother went too... and they were killed by Death Eaters. I had to go, I was only a first year, so they shunted me into Hogsmeade before I...' she trailed off, and the twins knew to ask no more.
'What house were – are you in? And shouldn't you be at school,' George piped up, lamely attempting to change the subject.
'Ravenclaw,' she nodded, 'I was meant to stay with my grandparents, but I ran away,' she smirked ever so slightly, 'I'm not sticking with them and listening to their 'comforting' words,' Cassie added darkly.
'Woah,' Fred said softly. 'Thank Merlin you're magic,' he laughed shakily.
'Yeah, but I'm not much good at it... or anything.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' George retorted, 'the hat put you in Ravenclaw, brain box,' he winked, but Cassie ignored it.

'So now I've told you my story,' she said, 'you can tell me yours...'
Fred opened his mouth as if to say that was bribery, and they didn't have to say a word, but George answered.
'Long story,' he chuckled for a second. 'I'll sum it up,' he said, and Cassie nodded, 'Well... this is harder than I thought, but I also fought in the battle. With Fred,' he gestured at his twin, who was now tearing apart George's rucksack in apparent search for something, 'and my family, and Fred... well... you get the picture,' he swallowed, Fred looked up and smiled slightly sympathetically at his twin. 'I, well, spent a week at home, and went out to the forest. Where I met some weird girl,' Cassie raised an eyebrow, 'and she... well... told me I could swap something to get Fred back. Which I didn't realise was my entire family'
'You what?' she asked, giving him a patronising look.
'Yeah, that's what Fred's reaction was to start with, but he saw sense.' George grinned at Fred, who was still digging through his bag, 'We're now looking for her... to swap back,' his face fell, remembering he'd still not thought up a plan to keep Fred yet. 'And the ministry are on our tails,' he finished awkwardly.
'Idiot,' Cassie said absently, but not in a cruel way.

'I know,' he sighed... 'but whatever. And what the heck are you looking for Fred. In my rucksack?'
'Oh, nothing,' Fred grinned evilly.
'What...' George growled.
'Just wondering what I say in my sleep. I know you write it down...'
George blinked. The little sneak, but it was very hard to keep secrets from your twin, and if he sleeptalked, he would've wanted to know what he muttered about in his sleep.
'Aha,' Fred grinned, finally pulling out the loose sheet of parchment, with George's messy writing on it. 'A storm is coming...?' he puzzled, 'what does that mean?'
George shrugged, 'no idea. You say it a lot. You've been sleep talking a stupid amount since the ministry trip.'
Fred raised his arms and wandered round, pretending to be a sleepwalker. 'A storm is coming,' he muttered in a monotone mock-serious voice, as George laughed.
Cassie, however, frowned. 'A storm you say,' she looked more alarmed than confused. 'Sure you heard that right?'
'No.' George said very sarcastically, 'he actually said salad, he's deadly afraid of salad... Yes, he said storm. Why?'
'Oh, no reason,' she replied, eyeing Fred as he dropped the sleepwalker-zombie act, but she didn't seem reassured by that answer.