Dusk Till Dawn: A Fred And George Story

May 2, 1998

I don't know when I fell asleep or how long I was out, but I remember waking up to the sound of scuffing shoes. I opened my eyes, but everything was blurry.

"Oh no." He said. The voice I heard was a voice I trusted, but I wasn't awake enough to decipher its owner. "No, no no no. No. Not you, too." His voice broke more and more as he came around to my front.

"I'm here," I managed. "I need help."

"Oh, thank Merlin." He laughed in disbelief. "You're alive!"

"Please help me," I begged. "I can't see very well."

"Of course." He grabbed me by my underarms and I tried my best to help him get me seated against the wall. "Good. Can you stand if you lean your weight on me?"

"I can try." I swung my right arm around what felt like the man's shoulder.

"Okay. One, two, three." We stood up successfully. I gave a small smile. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

As we staggered along in silence I realized I still did not know the identity of the man. "Who are you?" I asked quitely.

"Who...who am I?" I heard the worry in his voice. "I'm, umm, George. Weasley?"

"Oh, good." I rested my head on him and took a deep breath. "Good." I grimaced. "Shoot."

"What?"

"I rolled my ankle. It's fine," I hurriedly added. After a moment of silence, I admitted, "He put me under the Cruciatus."

"Bastard," George responded.

I chuckled. "He was."

Soon after I'd said that my vision began to clear.

I looked at George's face as we reached the doors to the Great Hall. There were fresh tears on his cheek.

"What is it?" I asked. "Who's..."

But then I saw the Weasley family bunched together and I began to cry. I couldn't see who they kneeled over, but I knew one of them was dead.

"George, who is it?" I frantically looked at the redheads. Percy, Bill, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Ron, and George was beside me...

"No," I breathed. "It...it can't be."

George began to shake.

When we arrived, I saw his lifeless face, and I dropped to the ground.

I wailed. I wailed and wailed so hard and loud until I had drained almost all of my energy. I hardly noticed Ginny and Hermione wrap their arms around me. The pain I had felt only hours prior couldn't compare at all to what I was feeling now.

"It's my fault," I whispered. "It's all my fault."

"Of course it isn't," Ginny said. "You weren't there, you couldn't have done anything."

"Precisely," I said. "I could have done something if I was there, but I wasn't. After I made him promise to stay by my side, I left."

"We were all fighting," Hermione justified. "You were bound to get separated. It's alright, Isabella."

"No, it's not. I deserve to die." I crawled over to the group. "Someone, kill me."

"Absolutely not!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Sweetie, think of your parents!"

"Alright then. If you won't do it, I will." I pointed my wand at my head and said, "Avada Ked-"

"No." My wand was knocked out of my hand. I lunged for it, a new resilience overtaking me, but I was tackled. "Help!" George cried. "Madam Pomfrey, she's been under the Cruciatus! Help!"