Chapter 30

There were thousands of things running through George's mind and all of them were curse words. Was he going to spend his entire life regretting choices and mourning? Why he had chosen to 'take a walk' George doubted he'd ever know but he sure as hell regretted it. Because he was standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, with a wand pointed directly at his chest and his own wand lying several feet away in a huge pile of leaves.

It was, of course, entirely his own fault; walking alone in the Forbidden Forest was a bad enough idea, but walking alone when you're brain's been turned to a ball of confused mush? Even worse. One thing George did know was that being disarmed, ambushed and threatened wasn't his idea of 'clearing his head'.

The shout had come from nowhere but George was soon standing, surrounded by trees, without a wand and looking completely lost. The figure emerged from the branches, arm outstretched and a smug grin on his wrinkled face. The man had a crooked nose and tiny eyes which were sunken into his face. He sort of reminded George of Peter Pettigrew, but with less hair.

"It's dangerous to walk these woods alone," he said.

"Hypocrite," George replied, "I don't see anyone with you."

"Ah yes, but you see in this situation," the man took a step forward, "I have the control, and you are wandless."

"Yet I don't seem particularly intimidated," George retorted.

"You will be."

"Ha! I've faced scarier things in these woods than an old man with a stick."

"Perhaps you've forgotten the damage these 'sticks' can do. Should I show you?"

"No thanks, I know how a wand works. I've had forty years of practice, I think I'm experienced enough."

"Just one little spell, to refresh your memory. Crucio!"

George gritted his teeth in pain. Of course, he'd been expecting it, his sarcasm had gotten him into similar, equally painful, experiences before.

"Good one," George congratulated through the pain which still filled his body. It took everything he had not to collapse, "Who are you, oh master of original torture?"

"You don't know me? I'm hurt," the man faked with a sly smirk on his face, "You spent most of yesterday looking for me," he whispered, as the pain intensified in George.

"Any time you'd like to stop, please feel free," George grumbled, "Glad to know my searching paid off, but I don't need you anymore."

"Shame," the man frowned, "I was so enjoying getting to know you."

"You too," George tried for a smile, but he was exhausted from fighting off the curse and fell to his knees, "But it's strange, when I usually introduce myself, I tend not to disarm and attack them. If I'd known that was the done thing, I'd have beaten you to it."

"Your wit will get you killed."

George smirked, or tried to, "I doubt it, my wit is the reason I currently run my own business and have a successful life ahead of me. And what is it that you run? Away?"

The man growled, "Crucio," and this time George couldn't take it. He grunted slightly and sank low to the floor, his insides burning and his heart screaming as it pounded against his chest.

"I don't run away. I'm braver than you'll ever be," the man snapped.

"Again, doubtful, but hey, what do I know? What house were you in?"

"Slytherin, but don't you start those stereotypes on me."

"Ah, Slytherin. They're meant to be ambitious, yes? Well, clearly your ambitions didn't get you very far."

"I said 'don't'."

"I didn't. I have nothing against Slytherins," he paused, "Unless they meet me in a forest and attack me for no reason; then some issues arise. Then and again, I got in a similar situation with a Ravenclaw once. He claimed I'd nicked his homework, pah, as if I'd ever be seen with homework! Anyway, there was a nasty encounter with him on the stairs, very angry he was, pushed me down three flights before he believed me! And once right, my own brother- right swat- jinxed me and Fred because we went down to the kitchens after curfew! Not my fault Fred was whining about being hungry! Oh, and one time a Hufflepuff chased me down into these very woods and hexed me so I was stranded here for over two days until finally, Fred found me. Missed the train home for Christmas! Still don't know what I ever did to her, although it might have something to do with the mistletoe- turns out Hufflepuffs aren't as caring towards Christmas traditions as they are towards everyone else. Outright refused to kiss me! And this other time-"

"Enough! I care not for your ridiculous tales!"

"Care not? When were you born, 1893?"

The man growled dangerously and took a step towards George who was sweating and breathing quickly and heavily as he writhed around on the floor. The man put his foot on George's chest and said, "I need you to do a little job for me."

"Never," George whispered, "Not after all the trouble you've caused."

"Crucio!" the man laughed, "I don't think you understand. You don't have a choice."

"Why are you doing this?" George shouted, "What are you gaining?"

Suddenly the pain stopped. George could breathe again and he made the most of the few seconds of fresh air he had before the torture began again. Resisting the curse was becoming harder and harder to fight through as he grew gradually weaker.

"My daughter," the man said slowly, "She… she died in the war. I know you know what it's like to lose someone. But this was different. She died before I knew the battle had even started, she was faithful to Hogwarts, we both were but she was there when it started and I was at home. They say she was strong, she was brave, but clearly, she wasn't strong enough. I got McGonagall's patronus which told me she was… was dead, only minutes after I got the message that the fight had started. She was gone before I could get there to help. If only I'd known when I'd seen her off on the train in September that it would be the last time."

"So you want her back? That's why you're doing this?"

"I don't know what else to do. Over twenty years I've struggled to cope without her beautiful, smiling face, I can't do it anymore! I need her back and you can make sure I get her. I won't have to feel this pain, this emptiness again."

"She wouldn't be proud of you for this!" George yelled through the pain of the curse which was still being forced upon him. Sweat was running down his face and black spots were beginning to dance in front of his eyes as he continued, "Just think about all the people's lives you're ruining! All the parents who are forgetting their kids."

"They won't remember anyway!" the man yelled. He had tears streaming down his face, "The parents won't even know! Time will reverse and then they'll have their children again! No one needs to know!"

"What about the children?" George yelled, "All those kids up in the castle. Suffering without arms, without the love from their parents. They could all be gone by the time I get back to the castle!"

"That's exactly the point," the man spat, "Surely you understand the pain I'm going through. You lost your twin brother!"

"I know! I know Fred died, but I never once thought about trying to get him back. Yes, his death destroyed me but he died nobly, just like your daughter, and in all the joy of the end of the war, there was no way I was going to ruin that to try and get him back. I know it's hard and I'm lucky to have Fred back but this won't heal the pain. You know what you're doing is wrong and if you just let me go, nobody will ever know and I'll help you! Let her go, she'd be proud of you for that."

"I can't."

George was too weak to reply. His head spun and his vision blurred. The last thing he heard before everything turned black was one single word…

"Imperio."