DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, who isn't me. The only profit I get from this is personal satisfaction.
Snake Oil
It was June 20th. Midsummer. Time to resurrect Voldemort.
Voldemort had constructed a simple plan for the day: get Potter out of the way, lure Dumbledore to the Chamber of Secrets, kill Dumbledore, lure Potter down to the Chamber, take his blood, resurrect himself, and kill Potter. And since George had no choice, he had to follow orders and help.
George approached Harry, who was talking with Ron while they ate breakfast. "Mr. Potter, may I speak with you a moment?"
"Alright, Professor."
They left the Great Hall and George cast a listening ward. "How has your scar been treating you?" George asked. "Does it hurt?"
"How do you know about that?" Harry asked.
"I pick up on these sorts of things. Did it start sometime around when the Chamber of Secrets opened? Maybe a little before, when the Heir of Slytherin was still preparing?"
Harry looked away uneasily. "Yeah, it did."
"I believe that scar of yours is particularly sensitive to Dark magic," George said. "And am I right in suspecting that it's hurting more today than it has in a long time, if ever?"
"It is, Professor," Harry admitted.
"It is as I feared," George breathed. "The Heir of Slytherin is on the move, and planning something big. Harry, I think you may be the monster's next victim, and that it won't be mere petrification this time. It wants to kill. I beg you to go into hiding until night falls. I'm working on a plan that might get rid of it once and for all, but I do not want to risk your safety in the process. If I fail, if I do not come back for you, then the Heir will have realized I've tricked him and then I believe that you will be our only hope."
"Me?" Harry asked. "I'm only a first-year."
"You are a very extraordinary first-year and you are destined for greatness," George said. "And I think you may be the only one besides the heir who may be able to control the monster. You've heard it speak, haven't you? That's because it is a snake. It's kind of obvious when you think about it. And I think I've finally figured out where it is. One Corvinus Gaunt, a member of a family proud of their Parselmouth abilities, is recorded to have been a little obsessed with a particular girl's bathroom when they were installing the plumbing. And it so happens that that girl's bathroom is right next to the writing on the wall. I'm almost positive that the entrance is around there somewhere."
"You want me to open it for you?"
"Haven't you been listening to me? I only want you safe and able to bring help if I fail. Ask those Weasley twins to help you find a place to hide out. I don't know how, but they know this castle better than most of my seventh-years. And have them pretend that they haven't seen you if anyone asks. I want people to know you're 'missing' so the Heir is lured into my trap."
"And you should have caught him by tonight?" Harry asked.
"Hopefully, yes, but you are the back-up plan if that fails. Good luck, Mr. Potter."
"Good luck, Professor."
Step one complete.
"Headmaster," George said, "I fear something terrible has happened. Harry Potter has gone missing."
"Missing?" Dumbledore asked. "When was this?"
"I don't know. I talked to him about an essay he wrote around breakfast time this morning and he hasn't shown up for any of his classes since and no one knows where he is. I think the Heir of Slytherin might have taken him. Not even the ghosts can find him."
"Keep the search going."
"Albus," George whispered, "I think I might have figured out where the Chamber is." He told the same story about Gaunt that he told Harry. "Do you think I'm right?"
"It is possible," Dumbledore allowed. "Go there and I will meet you as soon as I can."
George waited impatiently at the bathroom, but the Headmaster soon arrived.
"Am I right in assuming that you've learned Parseltongue over the years?" George asked. "I mean, you know Gobbledegook, Mermish, and who knows what else."
"I've picked up a little," Dumbledore admitted with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you found any good starting places?"
"There's a snake over by the sink that's broken," George advised. "Try talking to that."
Dumbledore made a hissing noise and an entrance appeared. "After me, I think," Dumbledore said as he jumped into the pit. George jumped after him.
"Have you figured out what the monster was yet?" George asked.
"I have some theories. I haven't decided which is most likely yet, but I suppose we'll find out. Stay behind me." Dumbledore cast a silent Lumos Charm as they went farther into the Chamber.
They went through another door opened by Parseltongue to a large room with a statue of Slytherin being the dominating feature. A large cauldron was in directly in front of the statue, just waiting to be used.
"We are in the Chamber of Secrets," Dumbledore breathed.
George nodded. "Yes, we are. Expelliarmus. Petrificus Totalus."
From under the turban, a hiss called out to the farthest reaches of the Hogwarts pipe system.
"Oh, how the mighty Dumbledore has fallen," George taunted. "Two spells that a first-year could do. And soon, you'll go the same way as Moaning Myrtle. Do you want to be a ghost too? Are you afraid of death? I guess you can't really answer me like that, but don't worry. My master's basilisk will take one look at you and you'll be gone forever."
The basilisk slithered into the Chamber and Dumbledore was forced to look directly into the yellow eyes. At the very moment he did so, his cloak flew open and a rooster that had been hidden inside it crowed. The basilisk died instantly.
"What was that?" Voldemort hissed.
"I swear I don't know, my lord."
"Have you been in league with Dumbledore? People do not keep roosters in their cloaks unless they know what they're facing!"
"He guessed!" George insisted. "His guesses are generally good! He must have charmed his robes to stay closed and the charm ended after he died, letting the bird lose. The preparation of a genius, nothing more!"
"I am not sure if I can take your word for that. You may be hiding many things in your mind from me."
And Voldemort began attacking the stronghold with a vengeance.
He's going to get in. And he'll find out.
George wanted to just drink pumpkin juice and take his mind far away, where Voldemort couldn't touch it. But that would call everything George had led Voldemort to do into doubt. Voldemort had to trust James Oliver until the very end.
And so George, inside his stronghold, allowed the dark memories he'd kept locked away to roam free and tear almost every incriminating memory to shreds except for a couple incomplete ones that would guide whatever George would become into completing his mission. He had to do it or everything he'd done since he came to the timeline would be in vain.
Oh, Fred, please forgive me.
After Harry emerged from hiding, the twins grabbed him and showed him the writing on the wall.
His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.
"Professor Oliver," Harry breathed.
Harry dashed into the bathroom, Fred and George following close behind, and found a snake on one of the sinks. He spoke to it in Parseltongue and an entrance opened.
"Harry," Fred said, "I'm pretty sure I know who's been causing this. And you're wrong: it isn't Snape or Malfoy or anyone like that."
"Or if it is, they aren't working alone," George added. "Voldemort is behind it all."
"I know," Harry said. "That's why I've got to stop him."
"It's just...I don't think you can survive this," Fred said. "We've done some research. We think that you're a Parselmouth because Voldemort is one. And when he tried to kill you as a baby, part of his soul latched onto you. So he can't die as long as you're alive. You have to let him kill you."
"When were you going to tell me this?" Harry asked.
"We didn't want you worrying about dying all the time," George said. "And since we all know what Voldemort is going to try down there, now is when you decide if you're going to face him once and for all or run and never look back. If there was anything we could do to stop it, we would have done it by now. I'm sorry, Harry."
"We're both so sorry," Fred corrected his twin.
"Have you told Ron?" Harry asked.
"Not yet," Fred said. "As soon as you go down there, we're going to go get all the help we can. But it's only when the piece of Voldemort in you that's gone that he can finally die."
"I understand," Harry said. "Thank you, for being my family for the last year. And tell Ron that I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."
"Of course we will. And we're going to make sure our sister never finds anyone else so you two can get married in the after-life," George said. "Then you'll be a Weasley for real."
"I'm...not really sure what to say to that," Harry said.
"Don't say anything," Fred said. "Just smile. I want to remember you just smiling."
Harry tried to smile but he couldn't keep it for very long.
Fred pulled Harry in close and whispered in his ear, "before you go down there, steal George's wand and don't give it back. Don't ask me why, just do it."
Harry frowned, but he pointed his wand at George and said, "Expelliarmus." The force knocked George against the nearest wall and he fell unconscious.
"You didn't have to do it so hard," Fred complained.
"Sorry."
"No, it's okay. He'll wake up in a minute or so," Fred said as he searched for the wand. "Here. Keep George's wand with you. It's technically yours now. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Go, Harry. Save us all."
Harry nodded went down into the Chamber of Secrets.
Severus Snape returned from the graveyard at Little Hangleton with the bone of Tom Riddle Sr. He went to the bathroom that was the entrance to the Chamber and ran into Fred and George Weasley.
"You're late," one of them said. "Harry just went down there."
"I suppose Oliver will keep him busy, then," Severus replied as he descended into the Chamber.
He heard voices down the corridor.
"Dumbledore!" Potter cried out. "No!"
Severus grimaced. He knew Albus was intent on sacrificing himself. He probably didn't have more than a couple weeks anyway and looking into the basilisk's eyes would be quick and painless. At least Severus didn't have to kill him in this timeline.
Maniacal laughter echoed on the walls. It sounded like Oliver.
Potter screamed something Severus couldn't understand. The traitor Death Eater picked up the pace.
"Yes, you trusted me! A word of advice: never trust the Defence professor! Of course, you won't be needing that advice anymore!" Oliver laughed again.
Why does he have to over-sell it so much? Severus wondered to himself as he entered the main chamber.
"Snape?" Potter cried out when he saw him. "You've got to help me!"
"Do I?" Severus asked. "I thought it was time to resurrect the Dark Lord."
"Yeah, he's still kind of stuck to the back of my head," Oliver said as he carefully removed his turban. "Care to take care of it, Snape?"
Severus smirked as he placed his wand on the skin connecting Lord Voldemort and Oliver together. "Sectumsempra."
"Owwwwwwwww!" Oliver complained.
Severus quickly healed their wounds and placed Voldemort into Oliver's arms so he could prepare the caldron.
"Harry Potter...we meet again," Voldemort said. "Last time your mother sacrificed herself to save you and her protection is still on you. If I were to touch your skin right now, I'd lose what body I have regained. But soon that will no longer be a problem."
"No, it certainly won't," Oliver laughed.
"Why?" Potter asked Oliver. "Why could you ever want Voldemort back?"
"The question isn't why. It's 'why not?'" Oliver replied with a chuckle. "I'm insane, you know. A million memories in my head and I have no idea why. Identities implanted and mixed together such that I don't really exist. Those memories will consume my mind eventually. All I know is that by helping the Dark Lord ascend will it be worth it in the end."
"Worth it to who?" Potter asked. "He'll kill everyone!"
"Not I. I did so much for him, from luring you here to keeping the turban on so he didn't have to witness me wipe my butt daily. I am his truest servant and he will ensure that I have my reward! And when he rules the world, I'll plant flowers! Snakes! We'll have snakes! And you'll have to be my slave for whole a day starting right now!"
"I am ready, my lord," Severus said. Anything to stop Oliver's fake mad babbling.
Severus took Voldemort's small body when the Dark Lord said something in Parseltongue.
Nagini emerged from the shadows and started strangling Oliver. "What?" he cried. "I did everything for you, my lord!"
"Yes, but who is to say that the useful information from your head won't find its way to one of my enemies now that I am not constantly monitoring you?" Voldemort asked. "Besides, at the rate your mind is deteriorating, you are of little use to me."
"Let me witness your ascension!" Oliver begged as he choked. "Anything!"
"You want a few more moments, I suppose? Very well." He hissed to Nagini and she stopped her attack, merely holding Oliver in place. "Now, Severus, let us begin."
Severus lowered Voldemort's body into the caldron.
"Stop it!" Potter cried. "Just stop it!"
"Bone of the father," Severus said as he brought forth the bone and placed it in the caldron, "unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The former Death Eater unsheathed a long knife and brought it to his ear, in similitude of the injury he had given Oliver in the previous timeline. "Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed," Snape said as he bit back the pain of losing his ear, "you will revive your master." Then Severus turned to the boy and saw fear in Lily's eyes. He pushed back that thought as he shoved the knife into Potter's arm. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."
Potter screamed in agony as Voldemort rose again.
"Severus, give me the Wand of Destiny," the Dark Lord asked after Severus had robed him.
"Pardon me?" Severus asked.
"Dumbledore's wand, stolen from Grindelwald, a stick with a very long history," Voldemort explained. "Since I am responsible for his death, the wand is now mine to command. I would rather have my own, of course, but James was able to warn me about the twin cores of my wand and Harry Potter's before I destroyed the stronghold of his mind."
So Oliver really is insane now? Severus wondered. "Yes, my lord," he said as he retrieved Dumbledore's wand and gave it to the Dark Lord.
"Are you still watching, Oliver?" Voldemort sneered. "The last thing you will ever see? The death of Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra!"
Severus watched as Potter and Voldemort both fell at the curse.
Oliver was right. Potter isn't a Horcrux anymore. Now it's just Voldemort and maybe his snake.
Oliver was in motion. He had somehow wriggled his hand into his robe pocket and now he pulled forth the Sword of Gryffindor.
How long has he been keeping that in there? Severus wondered. Since before he came to Albania? How prepared was he?
Voldemort looked up at the man whose head he'd spent the last year on. "Traitor!" he screamed. "Avada Kedavra!"
Oliver fell limp right as the sword sliced Nagini in half.
And now it is just Voldemort.
Harry's eyes opened just a little bit. I'm alive? I'm actually alive? He felt like he was forgetting something, something important, but the only clue his mind provided was an image of Dumbledore at King's Cross Station. He'd probably remember it later.
"Severus," Voldemort gasped, "make sure that boy is dead this time."
And I'm alive just to die because of Snape, Harry thought to himself. But he didn't dare move. Making himself a target wasn't going to give Fred and George time to get help.
Snape pushed his fingers into Harry's neck.
"Potter, pay attention," Snape whispered through unmoving lips. "You're the only one who can vanquish the Dark Lord. You can either try an Expelliarmus or use the sword Oliver was just using."
"I can't kill anyone," Harry breathed. "Not like that. Not even Voldemort."
"Then disarm him and let us hope that Oliver prepared like the madman he was." Snape then stood and proclaimed, "Potter is dead."
Voldemort came to his feet and he walked to Snape and Harry. "Alas, poor Boy-Who-Lived. Now the Boy-Who-Died."
Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort. "Expelliarmus!"
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed.
And yet, somehow, it was Lord Voldemort and not Harry who fell to the ground dead as Dumbledore's wand flew into his empty hand.
"Acceptable work, Potter," Snape said as he pulled Harry to his feet. "Now go join your friends while I clean up here. You can keep the Elder Wand. I believe it is yours now."
"You just helped me kill Voldemort," Harry gasped.
"I thought that was more than obvious. Now leave before I decide to have you expelled."
Harry didn't have to be told twice, but it still seemed like he was forgetting something important as he fled the Chamber.
Harry walked back up the tunnels. He looked up at the opening of the pit. Fred and George were there waiting for him and helped him back up.
"Hi, Harry," one of them said. "Nice to see you didn't die."
"Aren't you two supposed to be getting help?" Harry asked.
"You already had help," the other twin said. "Getting more would've made it all messy."
"You knew?" Harry asked. "Does that mean you knew I wasn't going to die either?"
The twins grimaced and looked away.
"You had to mean to die," one of them said finally. "There was no way around that bit. Otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have killed the fragment of his soul in you. Fred and I knew you'd make it out fine, and you did, but we were worried that something else might go wrong."
"So where's Snape and Oliver?" Fred asked.
"Snape's cleaning up," Harry said evasively.
"Voldemort and Dumbledore need cleaning?" Fred asked. "Oh, and before you feel sad about Dumbledore, he's been dying for a while. Looking at the basilisk is honestly how he wanted to go."
"Oh," Harry said, looking away.
"Harry, what about Professor Oliver? Did something happen to him?" George asked.
Harry gulped. "He was working for Voldemort until he killed him."
"He's dead?" George asked as he collapsed to the floor and stared out into space. "No, no, no..."
"Professor Oliver was evil and had Voldemort on the back of his head for who knows how long," Harry told them.
"He wasn't evil!" Fred roared.
"Yes he was!" Harry insisted. "Voldemort killed him when he tried to escape his snake!"
"Did he kill the snake?" George asked suddenly.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Why does that even matter? He was just trying to run away like a coward after Voldemort betrayed him!"
"He's a hero, and don't you dare say otherwise!" Fred hissed.
Harry looked at both of the twins for a long moment. "I don't understand."
"That snake, like you, probably had a piece of Voldemort's soul in it," George explained. "But far beyond that, our professor has been planning to kill Voldemort for years. It was always your destiny to do it and he made it happen now instead of years from now after everyone died."
"Oliver's done more than anyone to get rid of Voldemort permanently," Fred said. "You honestly have no idea."
"He still used me," Harry insisted.
"We told you a few lies to save you in there. Do you hate us too?" George asked.
That was unfair. "No, of course not, but..."
"Oliver cared about you more than both of us combined," George said.
"Can I tell him, George?" Fred asked.
"Yes, please tell Harry how much of a git he's being right now."
"Oliver is George," Fred said. "He is a George that traveled back in time to save me and everyone else. And he died to do it."
"So if you call him evil, what does that make me?" George asked. "Another evil Slytherin kid?"
"He was just so...insane down there," Harry said.
"Well, he would be," Fred said. "He's had Voldemort on the back of his head for a year and he couldn't let on to him or anyone that he was plotting his destruction."
"Not to mention he made the Sorting Hat give him schizophrenia," George added.
"He's been all alone for a year and no matter what happened, we couldn't do anything to really change that," Fred said. "And now he's gone forever."
George was gone. George had been gone for a while now. The Man-Who-Hid. He Who Must Be Insane. He'd pushed his mind beyond all limits and once his hidden obsession had been fulfilled, what barriers had remained against the flood of memory he had broke and there was nothing that wanted to resist anymore. He saw everything and all and none of it was real. What did reality matter? That was something for sane minds. He saw bomb sirens warn to hide. A rock floating in midair. The itch of skin touching the trail of an orange snail. A dead ginger. A boy flying after a Golden Snidget. The story of a hopping pot eating Muggles. A woman with an infant in her arms. All meaningless.
Severus looked over the Chamber of Secrets. Nearly all of the Second Wizarding War had happened in this room. The death of Albus Dumbledore by eye of the basilisk. The resurrection and death of Lord Voldemort. And the loss of the man who made it all possible.
Severus was surprised to discover that Oliver was still breathing. He didn't react to anything around him, but he had survived the Killing Curse.
Potter's sacrifice, from the previous timeline, he realized. It must still be working against Voldemort. And Potter's attempt to sacrifice himself again now may have made the protection even stronger.
Severus tried to get Oliver's attention, but his face remained blank. Severus pulled out his wand and pointed it at Oliver. "Legilimens."
And he now knew what a truly insane person's mind was like. There was no coherency, no sense of self, just random memories cycling through his mind and degrading.
"George Weasley," he said. "You are George Weasley. You went back in time to save your twin brother and you stopped Voldemort from rising to power again. George Weasley. Can you hear me?"
A whisper came up through the flood. "Snape?"
"George Weasley, you beat him. You won. Fred Weasley lives."
"Mungo's."
"I will take you there."
And Old George, who had endured so much, let himself become lost even further into oblivion.
Tonks' mum was working a shift at St. Mungo's, so the Metamorphmagus decided to drop by there. Dora "Tonks" Weasley might be married and well on her way to becoming an Auror, but there were still plenty of reasons to seek out her mum's advice.
She walked into the Permanent Spell Damage Ward when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she quickly forgot why she had come in the first place.
"Saint," she breathed. "You're alive."
"Poor fellow," Mum said. "He's quite insane now."
"He's not insane!" Tonks defended. "Saint, you can tell my mother who you are."
But Saint George was completely unresponsive.
"Nymphadora, Mr. Oliver wouldn't be here if he wasn't—"
"He's not insane!" Tonks said again. "He wasn't the last time he was here and he can't be now! Saint George, you start talking or I'll..."
"Dora," Mum said gently, "the Healers said that last time he was here he was confused about what reality was. Now his mind is nothing but shambles and he doesn't even have a sense of self anymore. It is as if he has undergone a Dementor's Kiss. He will never heal."
"Saint George, why?" Tonks wept. "Why did you do this to yourself?"
But she knew. Fred and Voldemort. Old George had sacrificed everything to stop Voldemort and save his brother. Even everything that made him George. Now he was a mere shadow of himself and nothing would ever change that.
No. I can't give up on him. Not now.
Molly and Arthur Weasley didn't know why their daughter-in-law was so insistent that the entire family visit St. Mungo's, but they knew Tonks wouldn't have asked without a good reason. Without prelude, Tonks led them to the Permanent Spell Damage Ward to the bed of one of the occupants.
"Old George! I thought you were dead!" Fred cried as he ran for the incapacitated man and tried to embrace him. The man didn't so much as flinch. Fred turned to his twin. "He..."
"Lost his mind for real this time," George finished. "Didn't he?"
"Old George, you git!" Fred shouted at the man. "You're supposed to know who I am! You broke time travel to save me and you WILL! NOT! FORGET! WHO! I! AM!"
"Fred, I don't think that's going to help," Tonks said.
"What else am I supposed to do?" Fred snapped. "Let him rot here for the rest of his life?"
"We all accepted it after Harry said he died. He's still just as gone as he was before."
"Then what are we all doing here?" George asked. "Are you trying to make us lose him all over again?"
"He has a chance," Tonks said. "Anger probably isn't going to bring him back. Dumbledore always said that love was the most powerful thing, and Old George proved that better than anybody. Maybe love can bring him back to us."
"Sorry," Ron said, "but could someone please explain why we're visiting Professor Oliver at St. Mungo's and why you've all gone crazy?"
"That's the other reason we're all here," Tonks said as she looked at each member of the Weasley family in turn. "Half of us know who this man really is and what he has sacrificed. We need to tell the rest of you his story.
"It really starts back in '97," George said.
"You mean '87," Ginny piped up. "Or '77."
"Or '67 if the nine is upside-down," Charlie added with a small smile. "It should only be 1990 now, right?"
"What..." Arthur started to ask, but his son shushed him.
"Who's telling this story?" George asked. "Me. Now, back in '97..."
Something in the consciousness stopped in the constant flow of nothing in particular.
That something stopped and it made other somethings stop and link to one another. They belonged together.
A memory formed, incomplete yet somehow identifiable as such. Other memories began to be pieced together.
Most bits and pieces didn't seem to belong to anything, and those swept away while the memories themselves began to link to one another.
George. That was the common factor. The identifying of the self as George.
Yet another theme, of greater importance, arose. Fred. Not part of the self but integral nonetheless.
And love. Family too great in number for George's feeble reforming mind to deal with just yet, but the memories had only love.
And that made him want to repair more memories. Who is this George? Slowly but surely, he would find out.
Sounds outside of George became apparent. Somehow he knew those sounds was what stopped that first fragment of memory in the first place. He couldn't understand everything, but it was all about George.
Memories became clearer as the words in the sounds guided his mind into recreating himself. And there were horrible things, but those things were ended. Jokes and joy, laughter and love prevailed.
He wanted to create sounds. George had memories of doing it, but he wasn't sure how. He had no control over his body at all. He searched his memories for answers. And, by some instinct he couldn't identify, it suddenly happened.
He laughed.
Fred froze. He couldn't have heard what he just heard.
Fred met eyes with his twin. George had heard it too.
They both looked down at the man lying in the hospital bed. Old George's body hadn't moved and his eyes were still closed, but there was now a smile there.
"Old George?" Fred asked tentatively.
Old George slowly opened his mouth, but no sound came out. There was still something wrong with him.
"Georgie, we're here for you," Mum said as she gently touched the ginger stubble growing from his head.
"Your Mum's right," Dad said. "You're a Weasley and we will never give up on you."
"Besides, if you don't come back, they'll probably ground you for life," Percy said.
"You're joking Perce..." Old George muttered as a tear fell down the side of his face. Whatever he said next was unintelligible except for, "don't think I've heard you joke since you were..."
The End.