Chapter 1
Prologue
GEORGE
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, 2000
For the last few months, George had to admit that he was unsure if the Order were going to win this war. Doubt had always been an unfamiliar feeling to him, yet now it was something that plagued his every move. At first, he’d assumed his feelings stemmed from the loss of his twin. Without Fred’s sheer enthusiasm, his pessimism had really made its way to the surface. Yet as time continued, and his allies started to display that very same unease, he knew that the tides had turned. If they ever were in their favour to begin with.
The truth was, ever since Voldemort had killed Harry two years ago, the Death Eaters had won. No one had wanted to believe it at first, but every fight since then for the Order of the Phoenix had been a constant fight for their own survival. They all had played their part in the years since then, yet still, that wasn’t enough. With every invention he himself had made for the Order, the Death Eaters grew more cunning, more merciless in their pursuit. He’d ended up begging Kingsley to let him just focus on defensive measures, to better shield his allies from the relentless barrage of attacks.
Which was why he was here in his childhood home instead of a lab five hundred miles away. Out of the original safe spaces, this was the only one left. Before he was born – at the beginning of the first war, the residents of the wizarding part of the town had put together blood wards to keep any potential threats out. Even though it was erected 20 years ago, the wards still held up as strong as ever, letting all its residents and their offspring pass through with ease. With the combination of a fidelius between Sean Fawcett and Amos Diggory, it made the place unplottable. Truth be told, it gave George a sense of security, knowing that there were no lurking dangers poised to strike from behind. Yet, deep down, he understood that their safety here was never guaranteed. It was only a matter of time before their enemies figured out where they were and hunted them down. Perhaps they already had.
A metallic clink resonates through his room, signalling the completion of his latest creation. It was a metallic sphere designed to plunge its surroundings back into the ice age. If it succeeded, it could potentially be what won the war. It was a relic in itself – having been fashioned from a device he’d found in the long-abandoned house known as the Rookery. There was no luxury of space or time for testing, so even if it wasn’t as strong as he thought it’d be, he only hoped it would bring down at least two Death Eaters.
(George always took them out in pairs. Affording them the mercy they had denied him when they’d killed his brother and not bothered to take him also.)
A knock on the door rouses him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t bother to turn around, instead, he carefully packs a few of his items into a bag.
“Anything dangerous in there?” A voice asks. It takes him a moment to recognise it. Since when was his younger brother’s voice deeper than his?
“There’s always something dangerous in here Ron, but not for you.”
The door opens and his youngest brother, Ron Weasley, stepped through. He shouldn’t even be there, but when they’d tried sending him away, he’d refused, bringing up the fact that he’d been Harry Potter’s best friend. He and Hermione were in Ron’s old room now, and though George understood their want to get revenge, seeing them in action was always chilling. Since when had those kids grown up to be such effective killers?
“Mum called saying that dinner’s ready. She sent me down here when you didn’t answer. Everything okay?”
He chuckles bitterly at that. Knowing his misstep, Ron takes a step back. “Nothing is okay. I’ll be up shortly.”
“Alright - listen George if you need to talk to any –”
“Don’t.” He interrupts and Ron goes silent, before leaving the room. He didn’t get why they still tried – they weren’t Fred, and they never would be. They knew he cared for them deeply, so why couldn't they just accept that?
He carefully places the ball into his bag of contraptions and ascends the stairs, greeted by the echoes of laughter. Along the way, his eyes catch the family clock, its hands unsurprisingly gravitating towards mortal peril. Fred's hand, as always, remains eternally black. As was Dad’s. They’d lost him a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, when he’d gone to save Neville Longbottom of all people.
In the company of his family, or rather what remained of it, George finds comfort. Ron and Fleur assist Mum in setting the table, while Bill and Hermione engage in a conversation that eludes his comprehension. Luna Lovegood, as enigmatic as ever, gazes into the distance. Lee sends him a reassuring smile.
There were several empty seats at the table, but he chooses to sit next to Lee. Though Lee had always been closer to Fred than him, they were still friends, and if he had to be honest, he’d considered Lee family in all but name years ago.
Everyone goes silent when they see him. Even Lovegood stops staring into space to look over.
He sighs. “Where’s Percy?” Out of the family, he was the only one who he expected to be there. Dad and Fred were dead, and Ginny was with Charlie in Romania, as her being around live dragons was seen as a safer alternative to the shitshow that was Britain. They’d tried to send Ron there too, but he’d refused.
(No one had bothered to send George away. His inventions were far too valuable for the war.)
“Kingsley called him to help with a raid on the Ministry.” Mum says with a frown, showing her displeasure. If it was up to her, she’d have kept all her children at home, locked away from the world and not close to getting murdered every five seconds. The only reason she’d gotten involved with the war in the first place was because of Harry, the boy who she’d come to see as a seventh son. Who was dead. “Said that he’d have some insider knowledge, I suggested that Bill go with him also, but Kingsley refused, saying that it’d be too suspicious.”
“Percy will be fine mum.” He says, taking a seat, and though he knew all their deaths were imminent, he had a feeling that Percy would survive today at least. Though Hermione Granger was one of the brightest wizards he knew, even she couldn’t compare to Percy when it came to the subject of magic itself. He understood it in a way that made magic a part of him, and any spell he learnt, he could learn with ease, something that the rest of the family never got.
She hums in response. “I hope so. It’s nice that you’re joining us for dinner today, George, have you finished what you were making?”
“I have.”
“What was it?” Hermione asks, interested.
“An object.” He answers simply and she frowns. She opens her mouth to presumably ask for more details, but a beam of blue light cuts her off.
They all look to see a dragon Patronus making its way into the kitchen. Charlie normally sent one once a week to give everyone an update into what was going on in Romania – and most times blabber on about how big his godson Teddy Lupin was getting, so this was perfectly normal. However, he’d already sent a patronus this week, and judging by how jerkily the patronus was moving, George suspected that something was wrong.
“The Reserve is under attack mum. We’re making our way back to the Burrow now. Ginny’s alright, but Teddy isn’t. They know. I think Amos is dead. He’s -”
The patronus cuts off abruptly, and mum gives a cry of horror. George just stares at the place that the patronus occupied, wondering if Charlie was dead or just got interrupted. The fireplace – a place that was linked to Charlie’s home only, lights up, and three people step through the fireplace, sending out spells instantly.
George has to duck to avoid a green spell hitting him in the head. Mum isn’t so lucky, and with a cry she falls down, the carpet underneath her getting stained with blood. Bill makes his way towards her and casts an orange shield that he’d never seen before. “Everyone out of the house!” Bill calls to the group.
Getting out his wand, George sends all their dinner plates flying towards the attacker’s heads, but they explode most of them midair. He has some satisfaction by the few that do hit. More people start stepping through the flames, and with that, he quickly makes his way to his room, grabbing his bag before climbing through his window.
And outside is even worse. The clear shield that surrounded the wizarding houses of Ottery St Catchpole are stained with blood, and several hundred, if not thousands of death eaters, make their way to the Burrow. This wasn’t a few death eaters getting lucky, this was a planned massacre. By the time he’d gotten outside, the fight was already going on full stream, and though they were fighting, he could see the resignation in the faces closest to him. They weren’t getting out of this alive. They hadn’t noticed him yet – his room had been one of the furthest away from the main door, but they would soon, and he needed to form a plan.
Bill falls first, still holding onto their mother. He can’t see Fleur, but Ron and Hermione pull both their bodies away, creating a shield charm that already has cracks in it. If the strongest person he knew wasn’t surviving this, then he knew he sure as hell wasn’t either.
But what he could be was a distraction.
“RUN!” He screams at Ron and runs forward, throwing out the first thing he grabs in his bag. Three spell-resistance glowing discs which targeted the throats of any enemy he saw. Between them, they take out fifteen death eaters. The next invention – a device that worked somewhat similarly to a muggle taser, knocks seven of them to the floor, where Hermione easily kills them, before running off with Ron into the forest. They couldn’t apparate yet, but he hoped that they’d have the sense to get into the Rookery and floo out of there.
By this point, the Death Eaters have figured out where he is, so spells start flying at him also. He retreats to the other part of the woods, sending out all his charmed mechanical snakes to bite and inject venom into the death eaters closest to him.
He runs through the woods, setting off the fireworks that he’d set up throughout the woodlands. They’d been something that Fred had invented years ago, but he’d tweaked it so that they’d locate the nearest person and go off on contact, either severely burning or killing death eaters when they hit them. They had the disadvantage of setting the forest alight, but with his newest invention, he could turn that to his favour. The fireworks start to fly in every direction, and it was at that moment that George knew he was surrounded.
He pauses in a clearing, and upon the sound of footsteps, points his wand at the target, planning to shoot at them when he could see them.
Instead of death eaters, Fleur steps out, and she stares at him wide-eyed. Other than a nasty looking wound on her arm, she seemed fine.
“They are everywhere!” She exclaims. “Was this planned?”
“It seems so.” He didn’t bother to ask if she knew about Bill yet – there was no time to dwell on it now, not when they were fighting for their lives.
They stand back-to-back and slowly but slowly; the death eaters start filing in. With some satisfaction, George notes that several of them have burnt robes. Neither party wastes much time, and it isn’t long before the curses start flying. Quite quickly their formation is broken, and he seeks refuge behind a large rock. He sets off as many fire spells as he could around the trees, setting them off and falling into the crowd below. Some trees crush the death eaters, but many others obliterate before it can hit them and cast the flame freezing spell. The charm he was banking on them to know. The charm was known to make the caster immune to flames, but it was also known to make the body colder – which made any sort of ice spell all that more effective.
He can’t see Fleur anymore, so he can only assume she’d either continued running, or been killed by the onslaught. He hoped for the former. The flames were starting to get close to him now too, but he tried not to think about them – he wasn’t getting out of this alive regardless. He reaches into his bag and pulls out the ice ball, looking down at it. He really hoped it would work. Before he did anything though, he’d need a good angle. Stepping out from his cover, he looks over the crowd and aims, throwing it right into the centre of them. A blue spell hits him in the centre of his chest, and he falls to his knees, feeling immense pain and rapidly decreasing consciousness. A beep sounds out, and the ball goes off.
And the event is glorious. Ice starts flying everywhere, catching all the death eaters present. A few of them even shatter.
The ice starts to approach him, and he has enough time to cackle before the ice covers him also. For a moment there was pain, but then all he could see was black.
--
“George!” A familiar voice calls out. “Come on, wake up now!”
It takes him a moment to realise that it was Fred’s voice. He smiles, for the first time feeling something akin to relief. He’d missed his twin, and surely if Fred was here, he hadn’t gone to a bad afterlife. Nor was he a ghost – Fred had moved on, he’d checked.
“Did you see that mum, he smiled! C’mon Georgie! Wake up!”
“Could you be any quieter?” He asks, and his voice sounds rusty. And oddly high-pitched. His head aches, as if it had been hit by the knight bus which he found slightly strange. Shouldn’t you feel nothing if you’re dead?
Opening his eyes, the first thing he notices is the gold ceiling of his room. Fred had decided that they were going to paint it gold when they’d been eight years old, deciding that even something as simple as a wall colour would help manifest their success in the future. But by the time their experiments had been carried out in full swing, the wall had been completely blackened.
A face appears and he instantly recognises his twin. Though instead of appearing as a twenty-year-old, Fred looked like he was barely thirteen. Did they choose what age they appeared as in the afterlife? He was sure that wasn’t how it worked. Perhaps this was another Weasley he didn’t know about – one that had way too many similarities to his late twin.
“Fred?” He asks slowly, and nodding, his twin’s face morphs into a frown.
“You don’t need to sound so confused Georgie; you’ve only known me for your entire life. Mum! He’s awake!”
A far younger version of Molly Weasley appears, concern evident in her eyes. “George!”
She hugs him, and his entire body hurts. He doesn’t complain though, instead he lets her hug him as he racks his brain for what was going on. The only theory he has was time travel, but that was impossible right?
“We were so worried when Xenophilius brought you over.” Mum says, letting go and looking him over. Xenophilius Lovegood? “You were so still! I was half tempted to send you to St Mungos – I would have if you hadn’t woken up for another day.”
“How long have I been out?” He asks, his voice still oddly high-pitched. He wanted to ask what year it was, but that felt like a bad idea if mum was already considering sending him to St Mungos. The Ministry couldn’t know he was here – neither could the death eaters.
“A week.” Fred answers. “I don’t get why – both Cedric and Lena were only knocked out for a few days.”
“Pandora did say that you got the brunt of the damage.” Mum says with a frown. “Why she was practising spellcrafting with so many children present I don’t know, but we’ve convinced her to stop now at least.”
That piece of information rings a bell in his head. He vaguely remembered Ms Lovegood from the Rookery dying due to a new spell test gone wrong. But he’d never seen her do this in action? He didn’t think Cedric Diggory or Selene Fawcett had either, though admittedly, he had never really focused on the things they did, having been so focused on his twin and subsequently his family.
His stomach rumbles, and both Mum and Fred laugh.
“You’re up in time for lunch.” Mum says. “Fred, can you help your brother to the kitchen, or do you need Percy to help you too?”
Fred scowls. “I can help him by myself mum. Come on Georgie.”
As they leave the room, George catches a glimpse of a copy of the Prophet which states that the year was 1991. He also passes a mirror, and it takes everything he had not to gape. Staring back at him was a far younger version of himself – one that had two ears even. He’d gone back in time. How was this even possible?
Better yet, what could he change?
In the kitchen, he finds everyone sitting down, far happier than he remembered them being. They all clambered around him, checking in on him and he hadn’t remembered Percy looking like he cared as much as he did them. Bill and Charlie weren’t there, but that wasn’t surprising – they wouldn’t be back until the war pretty much started, would they? A tiny Ron chats away with an even tinier Ginny about Quidditch and Hogwarts, whilst Fred ribs Percy on about everything under the sun, only stopping when mum chides him. Dad wasn’t there also, but he imagined he was just at work.
Looking at all of them, he decides that he’s going to change their fates. Why on earth did they have to die? All things considered, why did Harry have to die also? Why couldn’t they have just planned a course of action that minimised the deaths as much as possible? Hogwarts hadn’t needed to be a battlefield, so what if he could prevent that from happening in the first place? He needed to plan his next steps.
“George?” Mum says. “Would you like any potatoes?”
Yes, he needed to plan – the future of the wizarding world was at stake. But for now, he could rest.
He smiles. “Yes please, mum.”
Chapter 1
CEDRIC
The Forge, Ottery St Catchpole, August 8th 1991
Cedric Diggory was bored. This was happening a lot lately. The depressing thing about House arrest was that no one could come over to put him out of his misery. It was less of a house arrest and more of a bed rest, but either term essentially said the same thing – that he was alone. Sure, his parents came in and out of his room constantly, but they weren’t the same as Lena’s strange tangents or even Luna’s half-mad ramblings. His parents were far too grounded for his liking.
And perhaps there was the crux of his problem – he was far too spoiled by the company he kept. Being surrounded by seers and reincarnated souls meant that for him, every day was unique. Even the twins’ constant brainstorming was something fascinating and different. The mundane for him was boring. And he really didn’t like it.
There’s a knock on the door. “Ced! You decent?” It was his father.
“Yeah, come in dad!”
His father strolls in, holding a few envelopes. “These came in the mail for you, here you go.”
“Thanks dad. Can I write out a response to them too?”
“So long as you promise to stop writing as soon as you get tired. We don’t need another ink spill.”
He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. That had only happened one time. “I promise.”
“Good, I’ll see you at lunch.”
“See you then.”
Using his wand, his dad levitates an inkpot and pieces of parchment to his bedside table before leaving. He tries to ignore the irritation that rises at the action. Ever since the accident a few weeks ago, they’d been walking on glass around him, being stricter than he’d seen them be before.
It was most likely due to the after-effects of the accident, something that he himself couldn’t explain either. A day after he’d been put onto bedrest, he’d tried to grab a book only to find that his hand went right through it. Another time he’d woken up to find himself staring down at his own sleeping form, as if he was a ghost. The ink incident that his parents won’t seem to forget anytime soon, happened when his hand went right through the quill he was holding, and when he got annoyed and started to swat at it, his hand suddenly became solid again and knocked over the inkpot all over the floor.
The first few letters weren’t of any significance – just updates from his friends in Hufflepuff about what they’d been up to over the past month. There were a few late get better soon cards that he added to the (admittedly) big pile of cards next to his bed. The only letter of note was the envelope that was probably more expensive than all the cards he’d received inside. He knew instantly who it was from – the Malfoys eldest child. She was far closer to Lena than him, but he still considered her one of his closest friends.
Inside, was even fancier parchment with flowery gold lettering.
--
To Mr Cedric A. Diggory,
I hope everything is well with you. I have been made aware of the accident and wish you a swift recovery in time for the new school year. I am sure the Lovegood family is thankful for your help, and Mrs Lovegood in particular has expressed her gratitude to yourself and your allies. I look forward to seeing you in September,
Lyra N. Malfoy
--
He got out of bed, pausing for a moment when his feet hit the ground. But when nothing happens, he walks over to his wardrobe and gets out his wand. Lena had told him years ago that his wand casting wouldn’t flag up in a magical household, so with that in mind, he casts a revealing charm on the parchment, where the letters float around until they form different, much less formal words.
--
Cedric,
I heard about what happened from Lena. Hope you’re okay. You saved Pandora Lovegood, and for that, you should be proud. This didn’t happen the first time around. Lena mentioned that she was having some strange symptoms after you intervened, are you struggling with this also? Also how is George?
With love,
Lyra
--
His response was less formal, but still formal enough that if Mr or Mrs Malfoy were to read it, then they wouldn’t have a word with him about his choice in friends. He was a Diggory after all – and with his mother being a teacher, they’d expect him to have some modicum of formality.
--
Lyra N. Malfoy
I am alright, I’ve been put on bedrest which is annoying. I think George has too, because I haven’t heard anything from him since the accident. I may be experiencing some symptoms too, but I’ll explain those better in person.
Kind regards,
Cedric A. Diggory.
--
It made sense Lyra had expected him and George to have spoken – he had always been a tad closer to the Weasley twins than Lena and Luna, who both seemed to prefer the company of Percy and Ginny respectively. That being said, he hadn’t heard anything from George about what was going on – he hadn’t heard anything from any of them at all. Neither had his parents – who'd tried to reassure them that if George had been in any mortal danger, Mr or Mrs Weasley would have let the families of the Community know so that they could send their own children to St Mungo’s. George had been the worst affected by the accident though, so it would be understandable that he’d take the longest to recover.
Cedric just hoped he was alright. Fred too – he'd never seen the Weasley twin as scared as he’d looked when Mr and Mrs Lovegood carried George back to the Burrow. It was almost unsettling, seeing the normally fearless Weasley look like that. It wasn’t surprising though – the twins did everything together, and it was just plain weird seeing one without the other.
Eventually, his mother walks into his room with his lunch and he hands her the parchment to send out to Lyra through the family owl.
“Can I see any of my friends?” He asks her. He’d asked the same question ever since he’d been placed on bedrest.
His mother purses her lips. “No Ced – You need to rest; you’ll see your friends plenty when you go back to Hogwarts.” Her answer was the same as usual too, though he doubted it would change anytime soon.
With that he eats his lunch in silence, staring out the window and wishing that he could go outside at least.
--
August 21st, 1991, The Forge
A week later, Cedric was proud to say that he’d had a total of three mishaps. He’d managed to hide them from his parents thankfully, but at one point his hands had gone right through his pile of letters, His leg had gone through the bath instead of hitting it directly, and he’d walked through the closed door of his bedroom instead of opening it up and walking inside.
He’d managed to make his way downstairs without any mistakes though, and now joined his parents for mealtimes instead of eating up in his room. They also were easing up on his bedrest, and once the family healer, Healer Davies, gives him the go ahead to do some ‘light travel’, his parents finally gave him the go ahead, to visit the houses nearby.
“Remember Ced,” his mother says when he comes downstairs fully dressed, ready to leave. “If at any moment you feel lightheaded or weak, just head on back home. Or tell Vanessa, Molly, Arthur or Pandora that you don’t feel well, and they’ll take you back home.”
She doesn’t mention Mr Lovegood, but Cedric isn’t surprised – he wasn’t the most attentive in the best of times, and ever since the accident, where he’d let all the kids wander into one of Ms Lovegood’s spell-crafting sessions, their opinions of him had soured even further.
He steps outside, and the feeling of the fresh air on his face is wonderful. He’d always been an outside person, so it was refreshing to finally feel unrestricted in what he could do. The walk to Lena’s house isn’t long – they'd always lived closest to each other, only about twenty minutes, and whilst he travels, he admires the surroundings. The Larkspurs that they’d all planted years ago was in full bloom, and a few more flowers had seemed to join the mix – Hydrangeas, Daisies and some sort of leaf that he’d never learnt about. The only reason he knew anything about flowers in the first place was because of his mother, who’d gone through the main ones with him so that when he sent flowers to someone, they wouldn’t contain an accidental proposal inside. Apparently, according to his mother, that was a common thing for uneducated wizards to do.
Eventually, the flowers start to cease, and a building appears. It was the Fawcett family home – The Barbican, in all its glory. With it’s painted walls and drawings on the doors and windows, Cedric privately though that it was the prettiest house in the Community. It was far prettier at least than The Forge (though he considered it a close second.)
As soon as he approaches, one of the painted windows opens and a head sticks out. “Cedric!”
The person was Selene Fawcett – one of the many kids who lived in the Community. They were in the same year at Hogwarts and despite being in different houses, she was probably the person he spent the most time with outside of his immediate family. Having been born only two months apart, he couldn’t remember a life without Lena, and she was easily the person who he was closest to.
“Lena!” He calls back, and her head disappears from the window. Only seconds later, she was at the door, her dark hair windswept from how quickly she’d ran.
With a laugh, she runs over and hugs him. “I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too!” He hugs her back, just as firmly as she was holding onto him.
“You’d think you two hadn’t seen each other for several months, not only two weeks.” A third voice calls out, and the pair smiles sheepishly at Mrs Fawcett, who watches them fondly.
“Hi Mrs Fawcett!” He says brightly. Mrs Fawcett had always been extremely close with his mother, which no doubt helped him and Lena to forge the bond that they had. He saw her as the cool aunt he didn’t actually have.
“Hi Cedric,” she says with a smile. “Now you two have fun – Lena's made some cookies that I’ll take out the oven for you all later.”
“Thanks mum!” Selene calls and starts walking off quickly. He follows her.
“I thought we were hanging out at your house, then heading off to the Rookery to meet the twins and Luna?” He asks confused. That was what they’d agreed on in their numerous letters, after all. And what he’d told his parents.
But they weren’t heading in the direction of the Rookery – if anything, they were heading towards the Burrow.
“We were, but then I got this letter from Fred and our plans changed.” She shoves a letter into his hands, and he looks it over. Based on the shaky handwriting, it did seem rather rushed.
--
Lena,
George woke up two weeks ago, but he seems a bit off. He’s talking to everyone, but he hasn’t mentioned you or Ced in weeks and you know how he wouldn’t shut up about you guys. When I brought you guys up to him, he just looked sad. He looks sad most days now too. Even Ginny has noticed! Any chance you could pop in to cheer him up?
Fred
--
“He didn’t even mention the Rookery.” He notes, “Was Fred even aware that we were meeting up today?”
“I doubt it – George was supposed to tell him, but if he’s moping about something then you know how he is.”
He knew all too well. When Fred Weasley was upset, he’d just hit something or act out, however with George... George would just beat himself up continuously until someone (usually Fred or Cedric) would call him out on it. But why would George be upset? Surely, he’d have known by now that they’d saved Mrs Lovegood, their one aim of that day.
“Do you think he’s angry with us?” He asks, because that sounded most likely.
“Why would he be angry?”
“Well, he was the most affected out of all of us by the spell.”
Most affected was an understatement. When they’d all ran downstairs after Luna, George had been the closest to whatever object had set off the spell and so it had hit him first. A flash of blue magic had covered him, and it was like he’d completely frozen over before he’d fallen unconscious. Cedric had reached out to grab him but as soon as he’d made contact, his entire body had felt like he was seizing up. Then his arm had gone completely through him, and he’d watched helplessly as George had fallen to the floor. Lena had turned the object off, her hands coated in a barrier of her own magic, but by the time she’d faced the rest of the group, her eyes had turned momentarily blue, a stark contrast to her usual green.
“He was. But it’s George – he'd have probably gotten upset if one of us was more injured than him.”
That was true – George Weasley was a true Gryffindor. Cedric didn’t mean that as an insult, but rather, he tended to try and throw himself in harm's way first so that the others weren’t nearly as hurt. It was both loveable and frustrating.
“He wasn’t the only one affected either.” She continues. “I heard from Lyra that you’ve had some after-effects, everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.” He doesn’t bother to lie to her. Not when there was a high chance she was going to catch him during one of his mishaps. “I’m not feeling any different and can still cast magic with a wand, if that’s what you’re after, but since the accident, everything has been...strange.”
“Strange how?”
“I keep going through solid objects.”
“Like Kitty Pryde?”
“Who?”
“No one.”
He was going to assume that Lena was having one of her moments where she was referencing something that didn’t quite exist yet. She had a habit of doing this when brainstorming, but he assumed that this was due to an equal measure of her not only being a reincarnated soul, but also because her parents constantly encouraged her to voice her thoughts aloud.
“Lyra mentioned that you’re going through something too – are you having the same issues?”
“Not exactly. I haven’t walked through any objects yet, though that would be a cool thing to do. But something has been happening.”
“What is it?”
“It’s better if I show you.”
With that, she pulls out her wand and casts a levitation charm on a nearby cluster of leaves. They rise perfectly fine, but for some reason, they were surrounded by a sheen of blue magic instead of the standard purple. The blue was almost an exact shade to the one he’d seen cover George in the Rookery all those weeks ago.
“My magic’s been like this since the accident.” She admits, and cancels the charm, letting the leaves fall back to the ground. “Now with every spell I cast, it’s blue. It’s worse with my wandless magic though.”
“How so?” He asks, hoping that she was still able to cast at least a few spells wandlessly. Lena had worked hard on her spellcasting and had made it a point to cast every spell they learnt in class wandlessly at least once.
Instead of answering him, she raises her hand at the same cluster of leaves and her hand glows a bright blue. Blue magic surrounds the leaves completely this time and they jerkily rise in the air before they go flying at the pair. She cancels the spell before the leaves get to them, but instead of falling back down, the leaves turn to dust.
“That’s a better result than it was a few weeks ago.” She says and pulls her hair up to reveal a small scar on the side of her neck. “I tried to levitate a quill over cause I was bored, and it tried to cut my neck open. Mum almost had a heart attack when she came in to see what was wrong.”
“I’d imagine she did. Merlin, I’d freak out if I walked in and saw you covered in blood. Please tell me you haven’t tried to wandlessly levitate any quills since?”
“Not yet. I plan to once we get back to Hogwarts though.”
“Why?”
“Because what sort of witch would I be if I can’t even manage to make things float? The useless kind, that’s what.”
He refrained from pointing out that she could make things float with a wand, as that wouldn’t go anywhere. He was speaking to Selene, who refused to learn a new spell until she’d completed mastered the first. It was honestly a miracle that her perfectionist nature hadn’t prevented her from becoming the top student in their year.
He goes to push a tree branch out of his way, but his hand just goes right through it. His head goes right through it too, and with a sigh, he keeps on walking, noticing the outline of the Burrow. He stops when he realises that Lena wasn’t walking next to him anymore. Instead, she was looking at him in awe.
“Your arm!” She exclaims. “Your head!” He rolls his eyes.
“I just told you that it goes through stuff now.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me it lights up too!”
“It does?”
“Yeah - your arm and head turned light blue when you went through that. You didn’t notice?”
“It looked the same to me.”
“Hm - I can show you what I saw on the pensieve?”
Oh right, the strange silver basin that showed people’s memories. They’d found one in second year, where it had appeared in the Room of Requirement, and ever since, both Selene and Lyra had been obsessed with it. He’d only looked in there once and though he found it interesting, he had a feeling he wouldn’t ever be as interested in it as they were. He was much more of a sportsman than an intellectual after all.
“Sure. Hey Lena.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think George is going through something similar to us?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Probably. Maybe that’s why he’s acting so odd around the Weasley clan. Though being as he shares a room with him, you’d think that Fred would have mentioned it if George was suddenly sprouting blue magic everywhere.”
He should have, but Fred Weasley wasn’t exactly the most attentive of individuals. Plus, George had known his twin his entire life, so it was safe to say that he could hide a secret of two from him.
They get to the nearby forest where the Burrow was, and before they even face the house, they hear screaming and laughter. It sounded chaotic – but being as there were 5 underage wizards in there, that was to be expected. They pass through the foliage and face the Burrow in all its glory. Though he still thought the Barbican was the prettiest, he felt that the Burrow was definitely the most magical house in the community. With its sheer height and crookedness, it was clear that the house was being held together by magical means. On top of that, the Burrow was the only house that felt alive too. Lyra had theorised during first year that it was due to the sheer number of wizards that lived there, but he wasn’t sure if he was just making a cruel joke or not.
(First-year Lyra Malfoy had been a piece of work and if it hadn’t been for Lena, none of them would have had anything to do with her.)
He knocks on the door and barely a second later, the door flew wide open. Grinning down at them was one of the Weasley twins. He assumed it was Fred.
“Lena! Ced!” They exclaim and hug the pair. Definitely Fred then. “I see you got my note. I’m just playing Quidditch with Ron at the minute, but George is in our room.” His voice turns serious. “Do be careful though, he seemed to have a pretty bad nightmare last night.”
Cedric shares a confused look with Lena. Nightmare?
Fred lets them in, and they make their way to the kitchen first to greet Mrs Weasley. She’s working on lunch when they find her, but her smile grows warmer once she notices them.
“Selene! Cedric! Hello dears, it’s really been too long. George is just in his room – I think some familiar faces will do him some good. Do stay for lunch, will you?”
They both promise to, and then carry on to the twins’ room, which is eerily quiet. Cedric goes to open the door, but Lena stops him, giving him a look.
She didn’t look as carefree as she normally did.
“I think we should knock first Ced – something's clearly wrong.”
She did have a point. He looks at her expectantly, knowing that the second he’d try to knock, his hand would just go through the door. With a sigh, she knocks on the door.
“Who is it?” George asks, though even through a closed door, he sounded tired.
“It’s Cedric and Lena.” She says. “Can we come in?”
After a moment, the door swings open. A frowning George Weasley stares at them. “Diggory? Fawcett? What do you guys want?”
Diggory? George only called him by his surname when they were opponents in a Quidditch match. And he’d never heard him refer to Lena by her surname. “To check up on you? Our friend?”
George’s frown deepens. “I wasn’t aware we were friends. You can come in.”
The inside of the twins’ room was cleaner than Cedric had ever seen it, but he decides now probably isn’t the best time to bring that up. Instead, he just adds it to the mental list he was storing to try and figure out what was going on with George.
“You didn’t think we were friends?” Lena asks, her voice sounding strange. He couldn’t tell if she was upset or angry. Knowing her, probably both.
George looks at her. “I thought that we were once, but we aren’t anymore. We’re barely hanging out anymore anyway.”
Cedric just stares at him, unable to hide his confusion. What the hell was George even talking about? They literally hung out every day of summer until the accident? And what did he mean by ‘by now?’
“We still are.” Lena says shortly. “Friends, and we’re still hanging out. Did you hit your head when you fell down George? Why on earth did you think we weren’t friends?”
“Because you told me?” George says, starting to sound confused. “When Fred and I got in an argument with Diggory after Hufflepuff won the Quidditch match last year. You told me we weren’t friends then?”
He remembered that. But George hadn’t argued with him whatsoever, it had been solely Fred – and Lena hadn’t said that they weren’t friends anymore, she and George had forced him and Fred to be locked into a room until they made up.
Lena doesn’t correct him though, instead she looks at George with intrigue. “And then what happened?”
“We avoided each other for rest of the year. And didn’t send each other letters during summer. But we met up once to go to the Rookery. Where we saved Pandora Lovegood.”
“Do you remember that?” Lena asks. “Or were you told that?”
After a moment of consideration, George shakes his head.
“Mum told me. So did Ginny, and Luna when she visited. She mentioned you guys often, but she normally does, so I didn’t think anything was amiss. This is why you’re visiting right, because I didn’t send any letters saying that I was okay?”
He wasn’t sure if it was just him, but Cedric felt the atmosphere grow tense. The way George was speaking, it didn’t sound anything like him.
“Actually,” Lena says. “Fred wrote me asking us to check up on you. What was the plan for today, George?”
“I’m not sure.” George admits. “Then again, I barely know the date these days, time is passing way too quickly. Perhaps we should start again. What day is it?”
“August 21st.” Cedric answers immediately, and with a sigh, George shakes his head.
“1991? Then I’m sorry, but I have no clue what your plan was for today. My plan was to put together a gift for Percy, so he had something nice accompanying that prank Fred has planned for him.”
But George hated Percy? “Why?” He asks.
“Why what?”
“Why are you making a gift for Percy? You hate him.”
“I don’t actually, I just used to find him annoying majority of the time. Besides, he deserves it, what with putting up with all our shit all the time. He needs to know that one of us cares at least.”
“Lest he walks out on the family or something.” Lena quips after a pause. The effects of her words are instantaneous.
George gets his wand out and points it at her immediately.
“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” She continues, as if there wasn’t a wand pointing straight at her. Cedric goes to grab his wand, but George speaks up.
“Either of you grab your wands and I’ll knock you both out.” With those words, he raises his hands, showing that he was unarmed. Lena does too. “Good. Now, who the hell are you?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” She says, her eyes narrowed. “You clearly aren’t George.”
“I am George actually – and I know from memory that neither of you are who you say you are. Cedric Diggory was never so placid. And Selene Fawcett never so chatty.”
“I told you that you ask way too many questions.” He hisses to Lena, who gives him a look.
“Now is not the time to be bringing that up Ced! And you – excuse my French, but you need to chill the fuck out! I am Selene Fawcett, and he is Cedric Diggory.”
“Really? Then tell me something about me only they would know.”
“You pissed yourself when you first slept over my house.” He blurts, and everyone looks at him. “We were 4? Or maybe 5? Either way, we blamed it on a squirrel to mum, who I don’t think believed us.”
“She definitely didn’t believe you.” Lena says with a strange high-pitched chuckle, before seemingly remembering where she was. “In all the fights you’ve had with Fred, he’s had to apologise every time.”
“And how do you know that?” George asks.
“You told me. A year ago. Now are you satisfied? Or are you going to keep pointing your wands at two thirteen-year-olds?” From her voice, Cedric suspected she finally realised just how outclassed they were if he started firing at them.
“Sorry.” With that, he lowers his wand.
Cedric doesn’t know what to think about this whole situation, other than that he and Lena needed to leave. This wasn’t George – perhaps it was a changeling taking his form? He’d read about it before once, in a book his mother gave him. But Lena takes a seat on George’s bed, so though everything told him not, he took a seat next to her.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you guys yet.” George says with a frown and again, sounding completely nonsensical. “Not for another few years at least. Even then, we aren’t close with each other at all.”
“It’s because Cedric caught the snitch in fifth year, isn’t it?” Lena asks and George stares at her.
“It is. How do you know that?”
“She always has.” He says, because it was true – that was one of the perks of being a reincarnated soul. “But how on earth do you know that?”
One of the first things Selene had made him and Luna promise was that no one could know that she knew the future.
(“ Knowing the future is a dangerous thing.” She’d argued, “if everyone knew what happened, then it would change, and we wouldn’t be able to save those we care about.”)
“When I... fell asleep.” George said quietly. “It was 2000. I woke up in 1991 in my thirteen-year-old body. I thought that everything was the same as it was, but clearly,” he motions to them, “I was wrong.” He looks at Lena, an almost hopeful look in his eyes. “Now I assume you’re in the same boat. When did you die Selene? I hope it wasn’t painful.”
“I did die. Extremely painfully, but I wasn’t Selene Fawcett.” At George’s surprised look, she continues. “I was someone else – a muggle to be exact. I woke up to a new name and a new life. I only knew about this world from books describing Harry Potter’s life in Hogwarts, but so far, the books have been accurate.” She looks both of them over. “So far being the operative word.”
“If you’ve travelled from the future.” Cedric says, catching their attention. “Then what happened to our George? Is he in the future?”
“He’s most likely in the same place my Selene is – either in a different life, or dead. I’m not sure. I hope for the former.” At his dismayed expression, he continues. “If it helps, I wasn’t trying to go back in time? I was trying to take out as many death eaters as I could before they took me out. I’d just turned the place into a frozen wasteland when I woke up here. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, you’re still George, right?” His voice is shaky, unsure what to say because one of his best friends – a boy he’d known since he was a child, had been ripped away from him. His George was lost at the very least and brutally murdered at the very most. It was a terrifying thought.
Lena places a hand on his shoulder. “It is George – just one far more mature than we remember. He’s probably still there somewhere. We’ll look in a pensieve when we get back to Hogwarts.”
George frowns. “If you’re going to expose me to Dumbledore, then I’m going to obliviate you. Memories of a past life and all.”
And what on earth did that mean?
“We’re not exposing you to Dumbledore – there's one in the Room in Requirement.”
“Is there? It makes sense I suppose – literally everything was in there. Have you caught the horcrux in there yet?”
With that comment, Cedric gives up and just watches his friends (?) exchange. There was no point in him contributing if he had no clue what they were talking about. The only time he’d heard about horcruxes was when Lyra and Lena had gone into brainstorming mode when he was still in the room.
Oh god, did this mean that George was going to become one of them now?
“We know where it is but haven’t come up with anything strong enough to contain it. Do you have any ideas on how to contain it?”
“I have a few, but I’ll need to see the horcrux before I start working on anything. From what Ron and Hermione told me, each one felt different.”
It looked like he was going to have to recruit Fred to their cause, otherwise he was going to really struggle in his own quest to keep the geniuses around him grounded, lest they forget where they are and decide to just start firing spells at the world.
As if he’d heard him thinking his name, the door opens, and Fred Weasley walks in.
“Hey guys, mum says lunch is ready. Would you guys be up to a game of Quidditch afterwards?”
“I would love that!” He says quickly. “It sounds like a brilliant idea, right guys?”
“Only if Ginny gets to play too.” Lena says after a pause. “I don’t like being the only girl.”
Fred frowns. “Deal. But you’ll have to convince mum – you know how she is with Ginny.”
“I’ll help you convince her.” George says, his voice far more welcoming than it had been the entire conversation prior. “Now shall we go – I’m starving.”
--
Lunch was a pleasant affair. But it always was with the Weasleys – it was nice to be surrounded by people who weren’t your parents. He found himself trapped in several conversations about Quidditch with Fred and Ron, the latter who was very excited to watch the Quidditch matches when he went to Hogwarts. Cedric tried to answer Ron’s questions about Hogwarts as best as he could, but he couldn’t help but look around for Charlie to take over – the second eldest Weasley had always been better with children.
Of course, he couldn’t find him. Which made sense – he was in Romania now wasn’t he? Chasing his dreams of becoming a dragon-keeper, something of which was wicked in his opinion.
George, noticing his discomfort decides to help him out and clears his throat.
“Mum, can Cedric, Selene, Ginny and Percy play Quidditch with us after lunch?”
Ginny Weasley immediately brightened up, which didn’t surprise him. She’d been left out of Quidditch matches for as long as Cedric could remember. Percy Weasley, however, reacts as if someone had deeply insulted him.
Mrs Weasley doesn’t seem to notice this however and beams at her son.
“You haven’t played Quidditch for weeks George – and including everyone in the family too! How thoughtful – yes, yes, of course you can!”
“But Ginny’s tiny!” Ron complains.
“Which is good build for a seeker.” Lena says, “besides, I don’t want to be the only girl.”
With that in mind, they all go outside to play Quidditch. With there being seven of them, Percy quickly declares that he’s the referee and they get split into teams of three.
He gets put on a team with George and Ron and as soon as the match begins, it becomes frightfully apparent that as surprisingly good the matchup between Fred, Ginny and Lena was, they were nothing compared to George, who played as if he was a professional player instead of a student. If his bizarre behaviour earlier hadn’t convinced Cedric that he was from the future, then his Quidditch playing sure did.
The strangest thing about it all though, was that it was still clearly George playing – his moves were the same, just more refined. He still swung his bat the same way past George did, he just swung it with more precision. He still flew the same way too, but with way more agility than he’d ever displayed before. They ended up winning the match 100 to 20, but by the end of the match, everyone (including Percy) was far too distracted by George’s performance.
“I’ve scored again!” George exclaims, a grin on his face. He then pauses. “Why has everyone stopped playing?”
“That was brilliant!” Fred says. “I never realised how good you were at Quidditch Georgie!”
George looks at his twin for a moment, before looking down, smiling sheepishly. “I forgot how much I liked playing.”
“Well make sure to never forget if that’s how well you’re going to play.” Percy says, an uncharacteristically excited look on his face. “Then we’ll win the cup for sure!”
It is then that Cedric is hit with the realisation that not only was he going to have to cope with adjusting to this new George, but he was also going to have to face a war veteran on one of the nastiest battlefronts he could think of – the Quidditch Pitch.
So, he says the only thing that could think of in that moment.
“Fuck.”