Weasley and Weasley (Deceased)- chapter 5!

Read Chapter 4!
"Fred?"

George stared wildly around the room. He dashed first into the bathroom, then into the kitchen, then back downstairs to double-check the shop.

"What the hell are you doing?" cried Lee as George came bursting through the door. "I can hear you thundering around upstairs like a heard of Hippogriffs!"

"Sorry," George panted, a sickening knot forming in his stomach as he noted that Fred wasn't in the shop either. "I've, er - lost something."

Lee did not looked contented. "Yeah, well, find it soon, will you? They're getting rowdy in here."

George nodded, then spun on one foot and Apparated back upstairs. In his haste, he had not really thought about where he was going, and had wound up in the bathroom instead. He paused, thinking hard, then slumped down to sit on the edge of the bath, holding his head in his hands.

'He had to go sometime,' a very unwelcome voice spoke up from the back of his head. 'It couldn't have lasted forever…'

He had been so pleased to have Fred back and he hadn't even properly realised it. He had kept telling himself that it wasn't real and that Fred didn't really belong here, just to make it easier for the time when Fred, eventually, had to leave. Had he ever really been here at all? He had not been as transparent as a ghost, that was sure, and he certainly hadn't been able to walk through walls. But he had never really looked fully alive, either. There had still been a bit of haziness to his outline, a bit of distance to his voice.

'But why leave now?' George found himself thinking. 'Why come here on Tuesday morning, stay for a couple of days and then disappear again? Fred hadn't known how he'd got here - or so he'd told me, he hadn't seemed too keen to discuss it - so who was the one sending him here and then pulling him back?'

For a daft moment, he thought it actually might have been himself. 'My dreams,' he thought. 'I started having dreams about him again and then he comes back. There has to be a link… But I didn't summon him, I'm pretty sure of that.'

He began thinking over the events of last Monday, running through his head everything that had happened after he had woken up from the dream about Fred stealing stuff from Zonko's again. He stared around the bathroom for inspiration. He had been in a bit of a hurry, so he hadn't washed properly. He had splashed water over his face, he had not looked in the mirror, he had - wait a minute…

His eyes lighted on something lying on the bathroom shelf. It was thin and gold and glittering, dotted with black beads and bits of glass. 'That was the day,' he thought with a sudden shock of realisation, 'that was the day someone sent that back to the shop. That was the day I put it on and didn't realise I was still wearing it until this morning. And Fred came back that night and was gone again after I'd had a shower today - after I'd taken it off again today!'

Without another moment's thought, he leapt up and grabbed the necklace from the shelf. It twinkled mysteriously at him in the morning light, as though hinting that it knew something that George didn't.

"It's worth a try," he muttered. "The worst that'll happen is I look a bit stupid."

He took in a deep breath, and slung the chain around his neck.

~***~

It was bizarre seeing King's Cross this quiet. Fred felt a vague sense of déjà vu as he stared blearily around the platform, watching the smoke overhead drift lazily above him. The train would surely be here any minute, and then he would be back where he belonged…

He slumped down onto the cast-iron bench which sat facing the railway line. The past few days spent with George were already beginning to feel like an odd dream, and he was having a hard time convincing himself that they had been real. It was probably better that way, he decided. Better not to dwell on dreams.

"Back again, so soon?" a familiar voice asked, and Fred became aware that someone was sat next to him. A man with white hair, and a beard which trailed almost to the floor, was peering at him over half-moon spectacles.

"I suppose so," Fred said vaguely. "Doesn't really feel like I ever left, to be honest."

Dumbledore gave him a small and knowing smile. "Time does seem to lose its significance on this side, I'm afraid." He moved his gaze slowly to observe the empty platform.

Fred hoped he wasn't going to say anything about how cruel it was that he and George had been split apart at such a young age. That was what the other one had said - the long-lost relative who had come to collect him the last time. Only, at that moment, confirmation that he was never going to see George again hadn't exactly been what he had wanted to hear.

He looked again at the railway line. "Train's taking a bit longer this time," he commented quietly.

The man next to him nodded. "I think that may be because it knows you aren't going to get on it."

"What?" Fred frowned, wondering if he had misheard what Dumbledore had said. "Not get on it? How else am I going to get back?"

Dumbledore turned to face him properly, and his expression was suddenly rather commanding. "Your friends are on the right track," he said seriously. "But I don't think they, or even you, realise the severity of what you have become involved in. Your brother will need your advice, your help. For your reappearance has a great deal to do with it all."

Fred snorted. "Right. Fat lot of good I am, I can't even leave the shop."

"You can't leave him," Dumbledore corrected. "Your reappearance is connected with your brother, and so to go too far, not from the shop, but from him, would cause you to… well…"

"Go a bit wobbly, yeah," Fred nodded. The man with the half-moon spectacles gave him a warm smile.

"I was going to say 'would cause the connection between you to loosen, and therefore your spectral presence to become weaker'. Although, I rather think your phrase does the trick quite as well." Dumbledore winked at him, and Fred suddenly felt his bewilderment begin to dissipate.

"I must admit," Dumbledore continued, "I never envisaged entrusting such an important task to Hogwarts' most infamous rule-breakers…" He gave Fred a rather shrewd look, and the latter grinned. "But then, I was never really one for the rules myself."

Fred studied the man's face for a moment. "You said my reappearance has something to do with it… What do you mean by that?"

Dumbledore smiled. "You're on the right track," he said. Then, "Good luck, Mr. Weasley."

His brilliant blue eyes twinkled and suddenly Fred felt faintly sick. A moment later, he could see nothing at all.

~***~

"Harry was right - he can't half be confusing sometimes…"

"Fred! Fred, you're back - er, what?"

Fred was gazing past his twin with a dazed look on his face. "Er, nothing… Um - what? What am I doing here, again? Was I asleep or something? I dreamt it, didn't I?"

"No, no - you weren't asleep, you were gone! Just vanished!" George explained hurriedly. "Look - I think I've figured it out -"

"Vanished?" Fred looked bemused. "I thought I was going back."

"Well, you might have been, but -"

"I was on the platform and everything, same as before…"

"Yes, you probably were going back to the other side, or wherever, but the point is -"

"It all felt like a dream, you know? And when I was talking to -"

"It's the necklace!" George shouted, with a triumphant air. "It's this necklace - it must be. This is the reason why you're here!"

He pointed vigorously at the chain around his neck. Fred, alarmed at this sudden outburst, stared at it dubiously. "That's the reason why I'm here?" he said, not bothering to disguise his disbelief. "Looks a bit tacky to me. Isn't it one of those charms that went wrong?"

George shook his head. "I thought so too," he said earnestly, "but it's not. I don't really know what it is, to be honest, but - someone sent it back to the shop on Monday with some other stuff. They sent it in this box all wrapped up and I thought they were just sending it back because it didn't work - remember the ones that turned black during testing?" Fred nodded, and George went on, "Well, I thought it was just one of those. So I put it on and nothing happened, and then - I don't know - I got distracted or something and I didn't realise I still had it on. I only noticed a few hours ago when I took a shower."

"You haven't showered for five days?"

"Shut up - that's not the point -"

"Certainly explains the smell…"

"Look -" George's eyes widened in frustration, "I'm trying to help explain why you're here." He took in a deep breath. "It's got something to do with this, I'm sure of it. When I took it off, you disappeared. And I've just picked it up again and now you're back. See - watch." He lifted the necklace from round his neck and tossed it onto the bed. Fred vanished.

For a moment, George was unsure as to whether he wanted his discovery to be true. That was twice now the timings of Fred's disappearances and reappearances had coincided with him putting on the necklace, which meant it really was him controlling when Fred came back. But how on earth did it work?

He stared at the necklace lying on Fred's bed. It was just a little, slightly garish, broken charm… wasn't it? Why would someone have sent it to him, wrapped-up in a return-to-sender package, if it had the power to bring back the dead?

He took in a deep breath. "I need Fred to think," he murmured, and snatched up the necklace from the bed. In another moment, it was around his neck again.

"Mother of Merlin!" Fred tottered over from the other side of the room, clutching at his stomach. "Don't do that again! I might be dead, but apparently that doesn't stop me feeling sick…" He sat down rather heavily on his bed.

George's face was plastered with a mixture of relief and delight. "That proves it," he said. "It's definitely this - that's twice now your reappearances have been linked to me wearing this thing." He tugged at the necklace.

"Right," said Fred slowly, giving the necklace a very suspicious look. "Well, that would make sense with what Dumbledore said, I suppose. About you having something to do with me being here."

All the relief drained from George's face, which twisted itself back into a frown. "What? Dumbledore - you spoke to Dumbledore?"

"Yeah," his twin nodded. "He was on the platform, while I was waiting to go back. He said something about - er - we're all on the right track, or something. Hard to remember now, actually. He wasn't exactly crystal clear about it. But if it's you wearing that necklace that's bringing me back, well, then that must be it. He said the further I go away from you, the weaker the connection, or something, and that you're going to need my advice."

He stared up at George and shrugged, as though that was a perfectly reasonable amount of explanation. George raised his eyebrows.

"So… I'm the one making you come back. I'm the reason you're here. And it's probably because of this necklace," he was saying the words slowly, almost to himself, as though confirming the thoughts in his head.

Fred nodded. "And, Dumbledore mentioned - well, I think he meant this - the case. Bandersnatch's murder."

George's expression changed instantly. He stared meaningfully at his twin. "The murder?" he asked. "Dumbledore talked about it?"

"Well, not in so many words, I suppose," said Fred, standing up again and removing his hand from his stomach. "He said 'your friends are on the right track', but that we don't know how serious it is. That the whole situation is a bit bigger than we realise."

"Wow." George's eyes widened. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"When am I ever not?"

"Dumbledore is involved, isn't he?" George breathed. "Otherwise, how else would he know the reason behind the murders?"

Fred frowned. "You think he knows who did it?" he asked, and the other nodded. "Well, if that's true - why didn't he just tell me?"

His twin shrugged. "He's Dumbledore, isn't he? That's not really his style. Besides, I was thinking something else as well: if you can go back and talk to Dumbledore, maybe you could find Bandersnatch and -" He stopped, seeing Fred shaking his head.

"No don't do, I'm afraid," Fred sighed. "It doesn't really work that way."

George looked slightly crestfallen at his words, but nodded all the same, and Fred suddenly felt rather deflated. He crossed to the other side of the room, then leaned against the wall opposite George, folding his arms and chewing on his lower lip again. The clock on the wall beside him ticked softly through the ensuing silence. George glanced at the time.

"Nearly half ten," he remarked absently. Then, "Merlin's beard, I left Lee on his own in the shop. I better get back down there. Um -" he looked over at Fred, who was raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Fred told him. "You go on. I've got plenty to think about up here…"