A/N: So, we're up to the second last chapter. I'm actually getting a little sentimental over here... I'm going to miss this story! Gigantic thank you to my gorgeous reviewers: ncis-lady, snitch-bewitch, Lamb, cutietrp, chocolateMnMs, midnightstar19, Aris1013, Dimcairien, MaddyGervais, loveandpeace24 and SlyDevil. COOKIES. This story would be nothing without you guys.

Lamb: Charlie's your third favourite… I'm guessing Fred and George are first and second? Or George and Fred. One or the other :)Haha well Lee's been in the same dormitory as the twins for seven years… I'm sure he's used to it by now. Or at least come to expect it. :D

SlyDevil. COOKIES: Glad you liked the last chapter. And hehe, nothing too bad happens this chapter, don't worry :D

So the idea for this chapter was actually given to me by chocolateMnMs, who asked whether there would be Snatchers in the story. This is the product of that suggestion. Hope it does the idea justice!

Chapter 17

"Haha, nice one George," Lee commented as they walked down a side alley in some remote location, intent on heading back to their hideout. George grinned, accepting the compliment as Fred bumped his shoulder proudly. They had just finished a successful broadcast of Potterwatch, with George delivering the last few lines, and had gone to grab some Butterbeers to celebrate.

"Yeah, that last line was-" Fred suddenly stopped talking, raising a hand to stop the others from making any noises.

"What is it?" George whispered. They all held their breath, eyes widening as they heard voices approaching nearby.

"…speak the Dark Lord's name and next thing they know, we've got them," a dangerous sounding voice said. The sound of several people laughing echoed ominously through the alleyway.

"It's Snatchers. They must be making rounds," Lee whispered, his eyes wide. George stiffened at the word, glancing at Fred. They had heard of the Snatchers, but had never had an encounter. They both dreaded to think what would happen if they were caught now that it was a known fact that Ron was helping Harry.

"Hey!" They heard one of the Snatchers yell out as they spotted Fred, George and Lee.

"Run!" Lee yelled, and the three took off, sprinting down an alley, the Snatchers close behind. Fred was in the middle, George to his right, Lee to his left. They dashed down the alley, taking a sharp left at the end, and found themselves at yet another alley, with several rundown shops connected.

Sensing they were in serious danger, Lee disapparated. Fred glanced quickly at George; in the flustered state they were in, there was no way George could successfully disapparate on his own, and Fred was worried that he might accidentally splinch George if he tried to disapparate them both. He couldn't apparate with George, and there was no way in hell he was leaving his brother alone. George looked at him and understood straightaway; they couldn't disapparate. That only left one possible solution. They had to somehow outrun the Snatchers.

Fred and George barrelled through the front door of one of the empty shops, sprinting past the ruined displays, just making it to the door of the backroom when the first Snatcher shot a spell at them. It barely missed George's head, instead shattering the shelf beside him. With a string of loud, rather descriptive expletives aimed at the Snatcher, Fred yanked on George's hand, urging him to follow.

The two exited the shop and found themselves in another dim side alley. There was an unpleasant smell lingering in the air and George's eyes widened as he realised what he had assumed was a pile of rubbish was in fact a person.

"George, come on!" Fred cried out, already beginning to run down the alley. George followed, his heart pounding frantically. They ducked under a large fallen roof panel lodged between the two exterior walls and turned to the left. Fred abruptly stopped as he was met with a brick wall, George crashing into him, unable to stop in time.

"Back back back!" Fred yelped, and they took off again, this time with George in the lead. Their legs were straining with the effort of sprinting; they hadn't done exercise like this since Quidditch training at Hogwarts, over two years ago. George could feel a stitch beginning to form in his side and he clutched it frantically, willing it to go away. Glancing behind him, he could see a number of Snatchers chasing after them, some ten metres behind. He felt a thrill of fear when he saw one of them raise their wand.

"Fred!" George yelled, and somehow Fred seemed to understand the tone of George's voice because he hurtled into George, pushing him into another side alley as a curse struck the wall where they had been moments before. They continued running, feet and hearts pounding. George could hear the Snatchers still following them, yelling at each other frantically.

George felt a surge of panic; he found himself wanting to apparate, but knew if he were to stop and attempt to concentrate, he would be caught. Instead, he and Fred ran faster, dodging curses aimed their way, occasionally sending their own jinxes back, although these caused more damage to the walls and ground than the Snatchers.

They had just reached the end of the alley which split into a fork when there was a loud crack and two Snatchers stood before them, grinning sadistically. One of them grabbed George by the arm while the other managed to catch hold of Fred's shirt. Fred and George both found themselves unable to get away, as each Snatcher had one arm around their neck, the other clutching their wand arm tightly, preventing them from aiming their wands at anything other than the ground.

"And what do we have here?" The Snatcher holding George asked in a low voice as he examined George, yanking George's head back by his hair roughly to look at his face.

"Let him go!" Fred cried out angrily, struggling furiously against his captor. The Snatchers laughed, amused by Fred's concern.

"Oh, are you worried we're going to hurt your brother?" One of them asked mockingly. The rest of the Snatchers had caught up by now, still panting from the run. There were six in total, each looking ecstatic that they had finally caught their prey. Both Fred and George were struggling now, but their captors were too strong. Fred cried out in pain as his Snatcher twisted his arm roughly.

"Stop it!" George yelled, viciously elbowing his captor, who let out a gasp of pain but refused to let go. George decided it was time to resort to old measures; he sank his teeth into the soft flesh grasping his neck. It worked; the Snatcher let out a howl of pain and shoved George away, cradling his arm. George went flying forward, using his arms to break his fall.

"Expelliarmus!" He gasped as he rolled over, and the Snatcher nearest to him went flying several feet back. George was about to aim at a second Snatcher when a foot connected with his ribs, and he faltered, curling into himself in pain. He once again found himself being gripped tightly by the first Snatcher who had grabbed him. This time the Snatcher kept his arm well away from George's mouth, although George wasn't even considering trying to bite him; judging from the throbbing emanating from his side, the kick had cracked at least one of his ribs, and George was struggling not to whimper in pain.

Fred meanwhile was struggling almost manically against his Snatcher in an attempt to get to George. He lifted his foot and slammed it backwards into the Snatcher's knee, effectively dislocating it if the loud crack they heard was any indication. The Snatcher cried out in pain and released Fred automatically, clutching his knee. Fred raced forward, aiming his wand at the Snatcher holding George.

"Stupefy!" He yelled, and George once again found himself released. Stumbling forward, he had just reached Fred when the other Snatchers jumped into action, racing towards them. Eyes wide, Fred and George split unwillingly, Fred taking the left fork, George taking the right. As soon as they parted George felt his heartbeat increase as his worry for Fred drove him to run faster, his shoes slapping loudly against the floor.

He could hear someone running behind him, and he turned to glance over his shoulder. Not a moment too soon either; he was forced to duck as the Snatcher shot a green jet of light at him. George aimed a hex back before he took a sharp right and found himself in yet another alley. He continued running, his breathing uneven and frantic, and the pain in his side growing worse every second.

Suddenly George heard a loud explosion in the distance; his heart clenched with fear as he realised that was the direction Fred had been running. He almost came to a halt, the horror was so overwhelming, but the sound of running feet behind him urged him onwards.

He ran for several metres before turning a corner, and found himself standing in front of the shop they had run through at the beginning of the chase. He must have somehow run in a giant loop. Panting heavily, George ran into the shop, heading up the rickety staircase leading to the second floor, gripping the banister every so often for support as his side twinged angrily. Once he reached the top he ducked into one of the rooms, clamping his hand over his mouth in an attempt to quieten his breathing. He could hear several voices downstairs searching for him, but George barely noticed, attempting to focus. It was hard though, harder than it had ever been, because of the crushing fear that something had happened to Fred in that explosion.

George took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He closed his eyes, counting down from five, just like he and Fred had practised so many times before.

"Five… Four… Three… Two…"

The instant George reached "one", the door to the room he was in slammed open, and two triumphant Snatchers stood at the doorway. Their grins slackened as George disapparated with a loud crack, leaving them empty handed.

"Oof!"

George hit the ground. Hard. Winded, the pain in his side doubled, he struggled to his feet, gasping for breath. He let out a low groan as the nausea and pain hit him like a tonne of bricks, forcing him back onto the ground, retching. By now his breathing had been reduced to weak wheezes as the trees around him danced before his eyes; George blinked, trying to make them stay still because the movement was making him feel sick.

Without Fred there to assist, the pain in George's head wasn't diminishing in the slightest, and he clutched it weakly, as though hoping the touch would relieve the pain. It had grown so bad that he almost forgot about his cracked rib, until he shifted and it made itself known again. After several long, excruciating minutes, the pain began to fade slightly, his vision returned to normal and his stomach seemed relatively content, although a lot emptier than it had been.

His ear still ringing slightly, George looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It took him several moments before he finally recognised his surroundings; he was back at their holiday campground, the place he and Fred had fled to after going to St Mungo's so many months before. Unlike last time, George had apparated into the forest, but he could still see the lake and mountains ahead. He headed towards it on unsteady legs, heart clenched with worry, pausing every now and again to lean on a tree when he felt close to collapsing. If he had somehow apparated here, he was sure Fred would too. They had an uncanny ability to figure out where the other was. That is, if Fred wasn't- no, George thought furiously. Fred's alive.

George was near the clearing when he heard it. A loud crack, indicating that someone had apparated nearby. Eyes wide, he began walking to see who it was, but at that instant his stomach rebelled and George was forced to his knees as a streak of pain flashed through his head again, his wand slipping from his hand. George let out a low groan, clutching his head between his hands, willing the pain to leave but if anything it only grew worse. He could hear someone crashing around in the undergrowth close by, and although he knew he should get up and run because he was a sitting target at the moment- literally- he couldn't. Instead he bowed his head, hands gripping his hair tightly.

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed him, and George flinched before realising that he recognised them. He desperately wanted to lift his head and confirm his suspicion, but his head felt so heavy that he couldn't. There was a voice talking to him, their tone reassuring, but George could hardly make out what they were saying through the pain.

The hands clutched his shoulders tightly before moving to his head, and then suddenly one of the hands was replaced by a wand. A low mumble of words later, and George felt the pain slowly ebb away, leaving relief in its wake. The wand then moved to his side, and George could almost feel his bones knitting themselves together. He took in a breath, finally able to breathe without wincing.

After a few minutes, he managed to raise his head and open his eyes. Fred was staring back at him, his own eyes several shades darker than normal with worry.

"Hey," Fred said quietly. George swallowed, his throat still raw.

"Hey yourself," he replied with a small smile, and Fred laughed softly, his eyes shiny.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, hand still gripping George's shoulder. George nodded, and rose to his feet shakily with Fred's help. Once he was on his feet, Fred handed him his wand which he had dropped before. And then suddenly the overwhelming panic George had been feeling before came back to him, and he remembered how worried he had been when he had heard the explosion, how he had feared that Fred hadn't made it, and he turned to look at Fred before him, alive and well.

"George?" Fred asked cautiously, having noticed George's change in demeanour. A split second later, his eyes widened as George collided with him. Fred let out a grunt of surprise at the force of the contact but George clung onto Fred for dear life. A moment later Fred's legs buckled under the weight of both himself and George, and the two fell to the ground again, George's arms still encircling Fred's neck tightly.

"You okay George?" Fred asked, sounding worried, patting George's back lightly. George nodded into Fred's neck, blinking away tears and composing himself before drawing back.

"Are you?" He asked seriously, focusing his attention on Fred, checking him over for cuts and bruises. In the dim light, it was difficult to see.

"I'm fine," Fred said, waving a hand.

"But I heard an explosion-"

"Nah, that was me. Blew up one of the walls of the alley as we were running. They didn't like that too much though," Fred commented, wincing slightly and it was only then that George spotted the blood soaking Fred's jeans on his right leg.

"Fred!" he exclaimed in horror. Fred glanced down, apparently just as surprised as George.

"Oh," he remarked, reaching out with a finger to prod the wound curiously. George slapped his finger away as he prepared to look at the wound. Out of the two of them, George was better at healing spells and injuries in general. Probably because he had more practise; as children, Fred had always been the more adventurous of the two, the one who climbed one branch higher, who led the way on their expeditions, who tested out products they were unsure of. As a result, Fred had received a lot more injuries than George, and required a lot more healing. George had picked up a few tips watching their mother, Bill or Charlie fixing up Fred. As they grew older, it often fell to him to fix up Fred.

"Don't touch," George scolded lightly, although his own fingers were gently rolling up the leg of Fred's jeans. He hissed at the sight of a long wound still oozing blood along Fred's calf. It wasn't very deep, but the sight of Fred's blood was one George felt he would never get used to. The loose tooth fiasco of '87 still had him shuddering.

"You're touching it," Fred said sulkily. George rolled his eyes as he placed the tip of his wand on Fred's leg, and murmured a spell. A bright light shone over Fred's leg, and as it faded the twins could see the wound had closed up, leaving nothing more than a scar surrounded by drying blood.

"How did you do that?" Fred asked, eyes wide. George shrugged.

"Found one of the books Hermione left behind about healing spells. I figured that it might come in handy one day." Fred looked surprised at his initiative before grinning.

"My brother, the healer," he said fondly. "Hey George, maybe you should start wearing one of those Muggle nurse outfits. I'm sure all the girls would love to see your hairy legs." George gave him a nudge in the ribs.

"Oi, shut it you," he reprimanded gently as he helped haul Fred to his feet. "Besides, you did a pretty good of healing me back there."

"Well that- that's completely different," Fred replied, suddenly looking slightly flustered.

"Of course." George's lip twitched.

"My jeans are ruined," Fred said quickly in an attempt to change the subject, glancing down regretfully at his bloody, torn jeans.

"Be thankful it wasn't worse," George remarked. He still had an arm looped around Fred, and to his relief Fred didn't try to move away, perhaps knowing that George needed the contact to reassure himself that Fred was alright.

Because for the first time in the war, it was George who had been left worrying about Fred, not the other way around. Until now, George had been the one facing the physical challenges but it was Fred who was always waiting for him, always ready to pick up the pieces, and George hadn't fully understood how that felt until this very moment. Even the time when Fred had nearly been strangled, George had still been present, had been able to do something. But this, the immense fear, the gut wrenching panic that overtook his mind, his body, was something that George had never felt before, and looking at Fred he finally understood what Fred had been going through for the past nine months.

"Well come on, we'd better get back before Lee goes crazy with worry," Fred said. George nodded, before pausing.

"Fred, I…" he looked down, embarrassed.

"What?" Fred asked.

"I don't think I can apparate alone," George said quietly. "At least not today."

"Well I don't think I want to apparate alone today anyway," Fred replied with a gentle smile, offering his arm to George. George grasped it, and the two disapparated, reappearing just outside of their hideout. George didn't even have the chance to stumble before Fred had grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, clutching George tightly to prevent him from falling, and George suddenly realised that he hadn't been the only one worried before, that Fred had arrived at the forest to find his twin huddled on the floor in pain, and that Fred probably needed just as much reassurance as George had. He returned the hug, not only because he felt too weak to stand on his own, but also to assure Fred that he was okay. Several minutes and a lot of discreet wet sniffs later, they finally parted, heading indoors.

"I'm so sorry!" Was the first thing Lee exclaimed when Fred and George entered their living quarters, George still slightly weak and grasping onto Fred's arm for support. "I thought you guys were going to disapparate with me, I didn't mean to leave you behind!" Lee opened his mouth to apologise further, took one look at the blood on Fred's jeans, and swooned.

"Grab him!" Fred yelped, and the twins raced over to prevent their friend from falling on his face. They reached him just in time, lowering him onto the nearby couch. Lee awoke several minutes later to find both Fred and George smirking down at him.

"I- I- oh shut it," He grumbled as the twins burst out laughing.

"Nice swoon Lee," George said, chuckling.

"I was worried, okay? And then I saw the blood…" Lee's voice trailed off as his face paled again.

"Oi, don't you go fainting on us again," Fred warned, still smirking. "Like a girl."

"Shut up!"

"What's the feminine name for Lee?" George asked, grinning.

"Leanne?"

"Lenora?"

"Leesa?"

"Very funny guys," Lee grumbled, although he couldn't help but grin at Fred and George's happy smiles. "Fred, is your leg okay?"

"It's fine. George healed it in no time," Fred said, looking gratefully at his brother.

"George can heal?" Lee looked impressed. "Hey Fred, we should get him one of those nurse uniforms!"

"That's what I said!" Fred joined in with Lee's laughter, leaving George looking very disgruntled.

"Next time you can just keel over from blood loss then," he huffed, although his lips twitched involuntarily. He couldn't help but burst out laughing when Lee fell off the couch giggling hysterically. Fred glanced up, still laughing and George grinned back at him, thankful that his brother was still safe, still breathing, still with him.

Next (and final) chapter: Fred and George are alerted that Harry has returned to Hogwarts. It's time for the Final Battle to begin.

Thanks for reading, and please review :)