"You don't have to come with me. I can do this on my own."

Spike looked at the redheaded man again. "Nothing better to do. Might as well do something worthwhile. Is he like you?"

George looked down at his hands. "Yeah, my best friend. My soulmate…you know in the not weird icky way."

"I would hope not but who am I to judge." He had over a century long relationship with his sire. But that wasn't weird in the vampire community.

They were standing in front of where Lorne told them the trial's entrance was. Spike thought it would be in a place like the Deeper Well, but it just looked like a normal office building.

"Are you sure this is the place?" George asked.

"That's what the demon said," Spike said.

George and Spike stood in front of the nondescript office building, looking skeptical.

"This doesn't seem very mystical," George commented.

"Appearances can be deceiving, mate," Spike replied. "I once fought a nasty Grappler demon that was disguised as a bloody ice cream truck."

George raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further. He took a deep breath and pushed open the front door.

The lobby inside looked perfectly ordinary - beige walls, generic potted plants, a bored-looking receptionist behind a desk. The receptionist glanced up as they entered.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"Uh, yes," George said uncertainly. "We're here for...the trial?"

The receptionist's demeanor changed instantly. Her eyes began to glow an eerie green and when she spoke again, her voice had taken on an otherworldly echo.

"The trial to resurrect the dead is not to be undertaken lightly," she intoned. "Are you prepared to face the challenges that lie ahead? To risk your very souls?"

George swallowed hard but nodded firmly. "Yes. I'll do whatever it takes."

The receptionist turned her glowing gaze to Spike. "And you, vampire? Why do you accompany this mortal on his quest?"

Spike shrugged. "Seemed like it might be a laugh."

The receptionist's eyes narrowed. "Flippancy will not serve you well in the trials ahead."

She waved her hand and suddenly the lobby began to shimmer and warp around them. The walls melted away, revealing a vast cavern lit by flickering torches.

"Your first trial awaits," the receptionist's voice said bouncing off the walls. "May the fates be merciful."

George and Spike exchanged a look.

"Well," Spike said, lighting up a cigarette. "This should be interesting."

As they went deeper into the cavern, George felt uneasy almost sick. But the thought of seeing Fred again kept him moving forward.

He gripped his wand tighter, he also knew there was a nasty looking sword under Spike's duster.

George and Spike made their way cautiously through the dimly lit cavern. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the rough stone walls almost like something from dungeons at Hogwarts.

"So, what exactly are we expecting here?" Spike asked. "Giant boulder rolling after us? Pit of snakes?"

George shook his head. "No idea. I never even knew something like this was possible, I still don't. But I have to try."

As if on cue, they rounded a corner and came face to face with their first challenge - a shimmering magical barrier blocking their path forward.

"Well, that's not very exciting," Spike commented, reaching out to touch the barrier. His hand was instantly repelled with a shower of sparks.

George studied the barrier intently. "There must be a way through. Maybe a riddle or a test of some kind?"

He began examining the surrounding walls for any clues or inscriptions. After a few minutes of searching, he found some faint writing etched into the stone.

"To pass beyond, a sacrifice must be made. That which you value most, freely given."

George frowned. "That which we value most? What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike shrugged. "Dunno, mate. But I'm guessing it's not going to be as simple as tossing a few quid through."

George nodded grimly. "No, I suspect not. We need to figure out what this barrier considers our most valuable possession."

Spike was regretting coming now because he knew what he most valued. He took off his duster, placing it at the foot of the wall.

"You think your duster is your most valuable possession?" George asked.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Spike said annoyed.

To his surprise, the shimmering wall flickered, and a small opening appeared.

"Huh, guess that worked," George said, impressed. "Your coat was really your most prized possession?"

Spike shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It's been with me a long time. Seen me through a lot."

George nodded, understanding the sentimental value. He realized he would need to give up something meaningful as well. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled a small object from his pocket - a battered joke wand that he and Fred had invented together years ago.

"This was one of our first inventions," George said softly, placing it next to Spike's coat. "Seemed fitting."

The barrier shimmered again, the opening widening enough for them both to pass through.

As they stepped beyond the magical wall, George glanced back to see their sacrificed items had vanished. He felt the loss, but steeled himself for whatever lay ahead. This was just the first trial, and he knew there would likely be greater sacrifices to come before they reached their goal.

"Ready for round two?" Spike asked, lighting up another cigarette.

George gripped his wand tightly and nodded. "Do you have to smoke those?" George asked annoyed. When Spike just looked at him coolly, George gave up. "Let's do this."

Angel couldn't believe he was actually out with his son shopping. Connor wanted to get the kids Christmas presents since theirs were at home in Georgia. Angel offered to drive Connor around so he wouldn't have to carry everything around. He was shocked when his son took him up on his offer.

Right now, the kids were at the Hyperion with most everyone else decorating the place. They had already got the tree before Connor was even found and decorated it so that was one less thing they had to do.

At the moment, Angel was watching Connor get an outfit for Aoife and a gift card for Siobhan.

"Why don't you get Siobhan an outfit?" Angel asked.

"That's what the gift card is for."

"But she won't have an outfit to open for Christmas."

"The last time I bought her an outfit without her, she was eleven and asked why I hated her."

Angel laughed. "Oh." Teenagers were touch to understand. Connor was a tough teenager, his children were probably the same. Just hopefully less traumatized.

Connor sighed. "Liam is easy, anything with a curse word on it. Ronan is trickier. He's more into art and music."

"Maybe some nice art supplies?" Angel suggested. "Or concert tickets if there's a band he likes?"

"I'll get those with him, he's very picky about the kind of supplies he wants. I'll just get him a shirt with his favorite band here."

As they walked to the next store, Angel tried to keep the conversation going. "So...how are you feeling? With everything that's happened?"

Connor was quiet for a moment before responding. "Honestly? I'm not sure. This new magic...it's intense. And I feel guilty about Dawn and Ron being caught up in it."

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah, I know but doesn't change anything though." Angel could tell the conversation was making Connor uneasy. "We need to hit a used bookstore too. I've had a tradition with the kids since they were little, and I didn't have any spare money."

"What tradition?"

"You'll see."

An hour later they were in a used bookstore that was closing soon.

"A dollar," Connor said to the clerk.

"Ten," the clerk countered.

"I wouldn't pay ten even if it was new. A dollar."

This went on for a while before Connor walked out of the bookstore with a case of books for kids and teens. And he spent a whopping three dollars and fifteen cents.

As they stepped outside the store Connor stopped. "Wait, I forgot something," he said, setting the case down at Angel's feet and ran back inside. A minute later he came back out holding four bookmarks.

"Got all four for fifty cents, down from a dollar each."

"So, your tradition is to haggle?"

"No, stealing."

Angel froze. "What?"

"When you're too busy watching one hand," he said holding up the bookmarks, "you don't pay attention to the other." Connor held up four little kitchen magnets with characters from some of the books he just bought.

"You're going back and returning those," Angel said hotly.

"Nope."

"That's stealing."

"Yeah, I just said that."

Angel looked at Connor in disbelief. "I can't believe you just stole those magnets. That's wrong, Connor. You need to go back and return them or pay for them."

Connor rolled his eyes. "Relax, it's just a few cheap magnets. The store probably marks them up 1000% anyway."

"That doesn't make it right," Angel insisted. "What kind of example are you setting for your kids?"

"The kind where they know how to take care of themselves. When you kicked me out of the hotel, I had no idea how to live here. I was used to Quor'toth, not downtown L fucking A. Where did you think I would go? How did you think I would eat?"

"You sunk me to the bottom of the ocean."

"And?" It was like a slap to the face.

"Still after all this time you don't feel guilty about that, do you?" Had he really been fooling himself that Connor had changed?

"No, I don't."

"Why? I wasn't guilty of killing Holtz. I was starving down there and couldn't move."

"But did you die?" Connor started to walk away.

"How can you be so heartless?"

Connor stopped and turned towards Angel, looking him in the eye. "This is where you're confused about me. I get it now, I didn't back then because I was young. It's not that I'm heartless, it's that I'm angry. Still after all this time I'm still angry, I live off my anger."

Angel stepped back when Connor's eyes flashed purple. "Connor, you need to calm down."

"When I was in Quor'toth, the only thought that kept me going was one day punishing you. Every time Father would beat me because he thought I was too much like you or Darla, it would feed that anger. Every time I would do things that normal humans couldn't do, it would prove to him that I was an abomination. He gave me love to take it away because he couldn't hurt you there. So, he did the next best thing, he hurt me."

Angel thought that Holtz had treated Connor well. Connor was so loyal to him. "Then why do you defend him still?"

"Because I hated you more than I feared him."

Angel was stunned, the last time Connor was this honest with him was right before he tried to blow up a shopping mall.

It happened fast, too fast for Angel to react. One minute Connor was standing in front of him, anger radiating off of him. The next Connor was gone…just gone. The bags that he had been carrying were now on the ground, spilling out.

"Connor!" he yelled, looking for his son.

"Don't you just hate when they do that," a man with greying hair said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Wizards. Disapparating like that, my brother, the old fool, was a wizard before he passed away. Every time he would get mad after the age of seventeen he would just disapparate, annoying as hell."

"What the fuck?" Connor said, looking down at his body. One minute he was arguing with his dad then the next he was here…wherever here was.

"Well, what do we have here. Some little boy wondered away from mommy," a raw British voice said from behind him.

Turning around, he saw a tall man with large scars on his face. A quick sniff told him all he needed to know. Werewolf. It was funny that people always underestimated him. He looked young and they thought that meant vulnerable.

Four others came to stand beside the man…werewolf.

"Look, I really don't have time for this," he said, not really wanting to fight. His argument with his dad just drained him. He knew he was in the wrong, but it was like every time his dad opened his mouth, he was sixteen again. He lied when he told Angel he stole the magnets, he paid for them. He just wanted to piss Angel off and that really did make him sound like a child. It would be something his kids were too mature to do.

"You come on our turf, and you don't want any problems?" the tallest of the men said.

"Look, I just need to get back to the hotel I'm staying in. How far are we from downtown LA?"

The first one guffawed. "LA? You're a long way from home. You're in the eastside of London."

"Please tell me you mean London, Arkansas." They just laughed. "Fuck."

"Don't you have school children to be terrorizing?" a new voice asked, it was much more sophisticated than the others.

"Mind your own business. I know where your loyalties really lie. Potter may have spoken up for you at your trial, but we all know the truth."

"Leave the muggle alone," the new voice sounded more tired now.

"Since when did you start protecting muggles, Malfoy?"

Angel walked into hotel carrying the bags and box of books that Connor had left. He couldn't believe his son could disappear like that. He wasn't going to hold back when he saw him. It was rude and a very wrong way to win an argument.

"You're back. The kids are upstairs getting ready for dinner," Cordy said, coming and giving him a hug and kiss

"Is Connor back yet?" he asked.

She took the bags from him and peeked inside. "No, we thought he's with you. Did you have a fight?"

"Of course we did, and then he disappeared."

"He'll come back," she said.

"No, I mean he just up and disappeared into thin air. One minute he was there and the next he was gone."

"This wouldn't happen be to about twenty minutes ago would it?" Gunn asked.

"Yeah, why?"

He pointed at weapons cabinet, it was obliterated.

"What happened?"

"All the sudden it exploded, both Ron and Dawn said it was them. Turns out, because of how wild this magic is, it doesn't need wands or words. Hermione said it is much like wizard children before they have control over their magic, just superpowered."

"That's not good."

"What's not good?" Ron said coming into the lobby followed by Hermione.

"We were just talking about how Connor just disappeared into thin air," Angel said.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Just what I said, we were arguing and he just popped away, I guess."

"He disapparated?" Ron asked, looking shocked.

"What's that? Some old man on the street said his brother was a wizard and used to do that all the time to win arguments but he was drunk so I didn't think much of it."

"Just want it sounds like, he can leave and go pretty much anywhere within a certain distance. California is so large he's probably still here. The magic won't allow long distance disapparation. It's not strong enough," Hermione said.

"Actually, he may not be in California anymore," Ron said hesitantly. "When Dawn and I first got this new magic, we could feel Connor's presence. Now I can't. I didn't think much of it until now."

"What are you saying?" Angel asked, dread building.

"I think he means that Connor may have accidentally apparated much farther away," Hermione explained. "His magic is unstable and extremely powerful. It's possible he could have gone anywhere."

Angel didn't like the sound of that. "So, my son could be literally anywhere on the planet right now?"

"I'm afraid so," Hermione confirmed.

"I'll start working on a locator spell," Willow offered.

"He's in London," Dawn said, coming down the stairs.

"What? How do you know?" Cordy asked.

"You can tell all the way from here?" Angel asked.

"Uh, no, he just called Siobhan and told her. We're to continue with the Christmas party and he should be back in a few weeks."

"Why a few weeks?" Hermione asked.

"He just got arrested by two aurors, I hope I'm saying that right. He's going to have a trial in a few days. I can't even pronounce the people putting him on trial. I'm sure I didn't hear right from Siobhan."

"He has literally been gone twenty minutes. How can he be on trial already?" Angel demanded.

"He kind of blew up a werewolf."

"I've got a feeling it wasn't the way your Aunt Marge got blown up, Harry," Ron said to Harry as Harry also descended the stairs.

"He said not to worry, he's getting help from a man named Draco Malfoy," Siobhan said, coming to join them.

"I knew saving that git would be a mistake, Harry," Ron said.

Angel was having trouble following what everyone was saying. "We need to get to London right away," he said. "Connor doesn't understand wizard laws or customs. He could get himself into even more trouble."

"I'll contact the Ministry and see if I can get more details on the charges," Hermione offered. "Maybe we can get the trial delayed until we arrive."

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "I'll fire call Shacklebolt. I'll leave out some details because now that he's the Minister I'm sure a rogue wizard with unknown power might cause him to worry. Not to mention Dawn and Ron's powers."

"In the meantime, we should continue with the Christmas party as planned," Buffy suggested. "The kids have been through enough. They deserve some normalcy and fun."

Angel nodded reluctantly. "You're right. We'll do the party tonight and leave for London first chance we can."

As the others dispersed to finish party preparations, Angel pulled Dawn aside. "You said Connor called Siobhan. Did he say anything else? Is he okay?"

Dawn hesitated. "He sounded...stressed. But he was trying to be upbeat for Siobhan's sake. He said not to worry, that he'd handle it."

Angel sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of. Connor's idea of 'handling' things isn't always the best."

"We can't take the kids to London," Cordy said.

"Why?" Siobhan demanded. Most everyone was in the lobby now.

"Because we don't have your passports."

"She's right," Angel said.

"There must be some magic way," Siobhan said, looking to Hermione.

"I'm sorry, we have laws too," Hermione said.

"Look, there's no reason for all of us to go. Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione will go with Angel, Buffy, Dawn and Willow to London. The rest of us will stay here and keep things going," Gunn said.

"We've got to get home too," Charlie said. "George has been in a right state." Charlie looked around. "That reminds me, has anyone seen George lately?"

"Or Spike?" Buffy asked.

The second trial had been gross, and Spike didn't want to talk about it as they headed for the third trial.

George and Spike made their way through the cavern, both on edge after the grueling second trial they had just endured.

"Let's hope the next one isn't as disgusting," George muttered, still looking a bit green.

Spike grunted in agreement. "At least we're still in one piece. For now."

As they rounded a corner, they found themselves in a vast circular chamber. In the center stood an ornate stone altar, upon which rested a glowing orb.

"I'm guessing that's what we're after," Spike said, gesturing to the orb.

George nodded. "Probably. But it can't be as simple as just grabbing it."

"Maybe it's an Indiana Jones kind of thing."

"What's that?" George asked.

As if in response to his words, a booming voice echoed through the chamber:

"To claim the Twin Orb, one must prove their heart. Face your greatest fear and your greatest reward."

George and Spike exchanged uneasy glances.

"Well," Spike said grimly, "this ought to be fun."

"Yeah," George said as he looked over to see Spike only to see Spike was gone.

"Spike!" he yelled.

"He is having his own trial," the voice said.

George found himself alone and didn't like it one bit. Ghostly figures began to materialize around him.

He saw Fred, looking exactly as he remembered from that awful day at Hogwarts. The sight of his twin brought so much pain he had to force himself not to double over.

"You let me die," Fred's apparition said accusingly. "You were supposed to have my back."

"No, I-I tried to save you," George protested weakly. "It happened so fast." Fred faded away.

Suddenly Percy was looking at him, his face bloodied and next to him stood Fred. No longer did he look like the ghostly presence as he did before. He and Percy looked real, like they were really standing in front of him.

"The choice is yours, which brother will leave with you?" the voice asked.

George stared in shock at Fred and Percy before him. His mind raced, trying to process the impossible choice being presented.

"This...this isn't real," he said shakily. "It can't be. I can't choose."

"The choice is very real," the disembodied voice said. "Which brother will you save?"

George looked between Fred and Percy, his heart aching. Fred - his twin, his other half, the person he'd been trying to bring back. But Percy...Percy who had done everything to make up for his betrayal.

"I can't choose between my brothers," George said, his voice breaking. "That's not fair."

"Life is rarely fair," the voice replied coldly. "You seek to bargain with death. There is always a price. One life for another."

George's mind whirled. Was this truly the cost of bringing Fred back? Trading one brother's life for another? The thought made him feel ill.

He looked at Fred - the brother he'd spent years mourning, whose absence left a hole in his life that never quite healed. Then at Percy - stuffy, rule-abiding Percy who had nonetheless proven his loyalty and love for the family when it mattered most. Sure, he messed up but who hadn't?

"I..." George began, his voice catching. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I choose...Fred."

Spike heard George pick Fred over Percy. There was a wall in front of him cutting him off from George. He could see George but knew the man couldn't see or hear him.

"You have made your decision, you may leave," the voice said to George as Fred materialized even more and Percy started to fade.

"No, George, don't," Fred said. "It was my time."

"Too late, the choice has been made, goodbye," the voice said, causing George and Fred to disappear.

"Where'd they go?" Spike asked out loud.

"Back to the office. Don't worry, parking will be validated."

"Why am I still here?"

"You have a choice. Leave and go back or continue with your trial and have the chance to save Percy."

"Why?"

"The act must completely selfless. The trial was never for George."

Spike considered the voice's words carefully. He had come on this journey mainly out of boredom and a vague desire to do something good. He hadn't expected to be faced with such a weighty moral choice.

"So, you're saying I can just walk away now? Or I can try to save Percy - a bloke I barely know?" Spike asked.

"That is correct," the voice confirmed. "The choice is yours alone."

Spike thought about it. The easy thing would be to leave - go back to his usual routine, maybe have a drink and a smoke. But something made him hesitate.

He thought about all the times in his long unlife when he'd chosen the selfish path. All the pain and suffering he'd caused. And he thought about the soul he now carried - the conscience that pushed him to be better, to atone for his past.

With a sigh, Spike squared his shoulders. "Alright then. Let's get on with it. What do I need to do to save Percy?"

"Are you certain?" the voice asked. "This trial will test you to your very limits. There is no guarantee of success."

Spike nodded grimly. "Can't be any worse than the trial to get this shiny soul of mine."

Spike stood resolute as the voice acknowledged his decision to continue the trial and try to save Percy.

"Very well," the voice intoned. "Your trial begins now."

"You have to face her," the voice said.

"Her who?"

His mother appeared in front of him. Really? They thought this would break him.

"You turned me into a vampire and then you killed me…again."

"You weren't that nice anymore. You wouldn't have wanted to be like that. I did what I thought was best at the time," Spike said firmly. "I was wrong to turn you. But it wasn't wrong to stake you, you would have never wanted to live like that."

As Spike's mother faded away, a new figure materialized before him - Darla, looking as coldly beautiful as ever in her Victorian finery. Her eyes flashed with anger as she regarded him.

"Well, if it isn't William the Bloody Traitor," Darla sneered. "Siding with Angel, fighting for the good guys now. You've fallen so far."

Spike stood his ground, unfazed by her taunts. "Things change, Darla. I've changed."

"Have you now?" she mocked.

"Yeah, I have," Spike replied. Then, recalling what he had learned earlier, he added: "Speaking of change - want to know about your son?"

Darla's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Which one?" she asked.

Spike's eyebrows shot up. "So, it is true then? You were born to wizarding parents and had a baby long ago?"

Darla's composure slipped for just a moment before she regained her icy demeanor. "It's true," she admitted. "I had a child before I was turned. And yes, I came from a wizarding family, for all the good it did me."

"What happened to him?"

"He chose to be like my father, the hypocrite. I decided to do the only right thing."

"Which was?"

"I turned him and watched as he killed my parents."

That was the Darla he knew so well. "What happened then?"

"He got a little clingy so I told him to leave, or I would kill him myself. Haven't seen him in hundreds of years."

"You're dead, you can see him now. You have to know where he is."

"Yes, I do. He just found out about his brother not long ago, a flighty little birdy told him."

"Dru."

"If either of them try and touch Connor, I'll kill them myself."

"You're dead, not the threat you think it is. So, you have no care for your oldest but Connor you do. How does that make sense?"

"I shared Connor's soul with him. Remember what I said."

As Darla's apparition faded away, Spike was left alone in the shifting dreamscape of the trial chamber.

"You have faced your past," the disembodied voice intoned. "Now you must confront your deepest desire. What is it you want most, William the Bloody?"

Spike hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But in his heart, he knew the answer. "Buffy," he said quietly. "It's always been Buffy."

"Ah yes, the Slayer," the voice replied. "We can give her to you. She will be yours, body and soul, with undying love and devotion. All you need to do is leave now, without Percy."

For a moment, Spike was tempted. The thought of Buffy finally returning his feelings, of having her love completely, was intoxicating. But then he remembered all they had been through - the pain he had caused her, the trust he had violated. He thought of that terrible night in her bathroom before he had regained his soul.

"No," Spike said firmly. "I only want what Buffy freely chooses to give. I won't take her choice away."

He took a deep breath. "I chose Percy. Whatever it takes."

The voice was silent for a long moment before responding: "Very well. Just remember, this was your decision."

Suddenly, the fog cleared, revealing Percy shackled to the wall.

At first glance, Percy seemed unconscious. His head hung low, his pale skin standing in stark contrast to his red hair. As Spike drew nearer, he could hear Percy's shallow breathing.

Spike approached Percy. The redhead was shackled to the stone wall, his head hanging limply, his breathing shallow. Spike could see no obvious injuries, but Percy was clearly in a bad way.

"Percy," Spike called out. "Can you hear me, mate? I'm here to get you out."

At first there was no response. But as Spike drew closer, Percy stirred slightly, letting out a faint groan. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy with pain.

"S-Spike?" he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "What...what are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, apparently," Spike replied. He examined the shackles binding Percy's wrists, looking for a weak point. "Hang tight, I'll have you out of here in a jiff."

Percy shook his head weakly. "No, you don't understand. This is my punishment. For betraying my family, for letting Fred die. I deserve this."

He recognized that kind of self-loathing all too well.

"Listen, Percy," Spike said firmly. "We've all done things we regret. God knows I have a list longer than my arm. But torturing yourself won't change the past."

Percy let out a bitter laugh that turned into a cough. "Easy for you to say. You didn't turn your back on everyone who loved you."

"You'd be surprised," Spike muttered. Then, more loudly: "The point is, your family has forgiven you. George will be upset if I don't come back with you."

At the mention of George's name, something shifted in Percy's expression. A flicker of hope quickly extinguished.

"But...he chose Fred, didn't he? I heard him."

Spike sighed. "He did. I'll not lie about that, but I think that's why the test is always for two people."

Percy frowned, confusion warring with despair on his face. Spike could see him struggling to process this new information.

"A test for George?"

"No," Spike said. "A test for me. To see if I'd bother saving your scrawny arse. And here I am. So how about we leave the brooding for later and focus on getting out of here, yeah?"

Spike gave the shackles a hard yank, feeling them start to give. Percy winced at the movement, but some of the hopelessness had faded from his eyes.

"Why are you saving me if my own brother didn't want me?"

Spike shrugged. "Maybe I'm going soft in my old age. Or maybe I just want you all to go back home. So many redheads at the hotel it feels like I'm stuck in Scotland again."

"You were in Scotland? When?"

"I'm very old, I've been everywhere. Come on, let's get out of here."

"You arsehole," Fred said, shoving George away when they appeared in the office. "You killed Percy."

George looked shocked at Fred's angry reaction. "What? No, I didn't kill Percy. I just...I chose to bring you back instead of him."

Fred shook his head in disbelief. "That's the same thing, you git! You sacrificed Percy's life for mine. How could you do that?"

George stammered, "I...I missed you so much. I thought this was my chance to get you back."

"At the cost of our brother's life?" Fred demanded. "That's not right, George. Percy may have made mistakes, but he's still our family."

George's face fell as the reality of what he'd done sank in. "Oh Merlin, what have I done? I didn't think...I just wanted you back so badly."

Fred's expression softened slightly. "I know you meant well, but this isn't the way. We can't trade one life for another like that."

George nodded miserably. "You're right. I've made a terrible mistake. Is there any way to undo it?"

Before Fred could respond, there was a flash of light. Spike appeared, supporting a weakened but very much alive Percy.

"Special delivery," Spike announced. "One scrawny ginger, as requested."

George and Fred stared in shock. "Percy?" George whispered. "But how...?"

Spike shrugged. "Don't ask."

Percy looked between his brothers uncertainly. "I feel sick."

Fred rushed forward to hug Percy tightly. After a moment's hesitation, George joined the embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Perce," George said, his voice thick with emotion. "I traded you for Fred can you ever forgive me?"

Percy looked at George with hurt eyes. "Forgive yes, forget no."

Percy's words hung heavily in the air. George nodded solemnly, accepting that his actions had damaged his relationship with Percy, even if he was forgiven.

"I understand," George said quietly. "What I did was unforgivable. I'm just grateful you're both here now."

Fred looked between his brothers, then at Spike. "So, what happens now? Am I all really back for good?"

Spike shrugged. "Beats me, mate. I just did the trials. Didn't exactly come with an instruction manual."

As if in response, the receptionist from earlier materialized before them, her eyes still glowing that eerie green.

"The trials are complete," she said. " Fred Weasley and Percy Weasley may return to the world of the living."

George's eyes widened. "Really? Just like that?"

The receptionist's expression remained impassive. "There is always a price for meddling with the natural order. You will learn what that price is in time." He didn't like the sound of that.

With those ominous words, she vanished. The office around them began to fade.

"Uh, what's happening?" Fred asked nervously.

"I think our ride's here," Spike replied dryly.

In a flash of light, they found themselves standing outside the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles.