My first thought was that I was going to throw up.
My second one was, where the hell did my chair go?
I normally have some warning before my furniture vanishes, usually in the form of a large bang or the strong smell of something burning. Being George Weasley has its hazards.
I blinked. The nausea surged for a brief moment, and I resisted the urge to dry heave. When it disappeared I took in my surroundings, being careful not to move. It was possible that, wherever I was, my hosts/kidnappers didn't know I was there, or at least awake.
Surviving a war has its paranoia.
Everyone in the room was staring at me, so no luck there; I wouldn't even have time to reach my wand if they were seasoned at this. I blinked again, and resisted the urge to scream and hide.
Dumbledore was standing directly in front of me, just outside of what looked like a butchered attempt at a summoning circle. Snape was behind him, Sirius Black on his left side. My [much younger] parents were to my right, a [very much younger] Professor McGonagall to my left, and I could hear the rest of the Order of the Phoenix behind me. Someone, I assumed Tonks, tripped over something and cursed under her breath.
I was already on my hands and knees, so collapsing wouldn't do much, unfortunately. I bowed my head and took a deep breath. Then I took another one. And then a third.
"Hello," Dumbledore said somewhat warily, though not unkindly.
I gritted my teeth. The man's hero act had been pieced together by me, Hermione, and Rita Skeeter a few years after the war. No one had been very upset at that point. Everyone had guessed it, and they didn't need the proof.
Now, to have him standing here in front of me, having forcibly summoned me into what could only be either the past or another universe, was a little too much. The man was responsible for the war which killed my brother, who turned my wife insane, and made my children more paranoid than old Mad Eye.
I wanted to kill him. Evisceration sounded good. Maybe I could get Charlie to lend me one of his dragons…? No, I'd much rather throttle him. Possibly Avada Kedrava him.
That wasn't an option at the moment, though. He wasn't the only wizard Tom Riddle had ever feared for no reason, and I couldn't defeat the whole order by myself, anyway. Well, maybe if Snape, McGonagall, Mad Eye, and my mum were out of the way. I wouldn't mind getting Snape; an ear for an ear, as they say. McGonagall, however, was not going to happen. She, I think, had been hit the hardest by Dumbledore's betrayal. Mad Eye was old, but he was quick and skilled, and he already had his wand pointed at me. There was no way I'd even try mum. The woman had killed Bellatrix Lestrange, for crying out loud. Not to mention she was my mother.
I sat up, rested my hands on my knees in what I hoped looked like a relaxed position, and stared impassively at Dumbledore. I may have hated the man, the last one for his glory seeking and this one for kidnapping me, but he didn't need to know that.
The entire room gasped when they saw my face. Interestingly enough, I would have bet an entire week's wages that it wasn't because they recognized me as George Weasley, but because of my war-worn appearance.
There was a ragged dark hole where my left ear used be, and over the years I'd noticed I'd developed a very fierce gaze. My clothes weren't exactly the typical wizard wear of my school years, either; a black dragon skin jacket [Fred's], a blue button down shirt [Fred's], faded blue jeans [mine], and dragon skin boots [a birthday present from Charlie].
Mad Eye's mad eye was fixed to me, swirling around as he noticed all my 'accessories'. There was a holstered wand on each arm [Fred's on my right, my own on my left], two invisibility cloaks, a very large spare potions kit [specially stocked by yours truly], several bags of suspicious looking candy and fireworks [made by yours truly], and a knife in my pocket [useful for making dinner and slicing up bad guys]. I knew he didn't notice all my disguised knickknacks; that was why they were disguised.
Dumbledore frowned. "Do you speak English?" he asked worriedly.
I contemplated answering. On the one hand, pretending not to speak English would be highly entertaining. On the other hand, it would be no use to me whatsoever, and there was always the chance someone [Dumbledore] had designed a language-learning charm, rune, potion, or spell. I myself had developed the very first language rune about three years after Freddie had been born.
"Yes," I said simply.
He looked relieved. "Excellent. Are you Harry Potter?"
I blinked. Why did he think I was Harry? Oh, bugger. He must have tried to summon Harry and got me by mistake. Blimey, when I made that vow to protect Harry, I didn't think that this would happen!
I decided to play my hand carefully.
I scoffed. "You mean you don't know me? One of the richest wizards in Europe? Said to be the cleverest? Inventor, researcher, businessman? You think I'm Harry Potter? Do I have a bloody lightning bolt on my forehead?" I almost said scar before I remembered my missing ear. Oops.
Everyone gasped at my tone. Dumbledore looked shock.
"Yes, well, I apologize, my dear boy," he said, his eyes regaining a familiar Twinkle™. "We were expecting Mr. Potter."
"Like Hell," I scoffed again. "You need my little brother, you can bloody well manage with me."
Everyone gasped again, and I smirked inwardly. Even if it was only for a moment, let them think my world was vastly different, and the Potters had had a tall red head for a son before Harry.
"I…" Dumbledore trailed off. "I am sorry. May I ask your name?"
I shrugged. "You may." I had expected him to use Legilimency on me through the Twinkle™, but he hadn't yet. Pity; I had the strongest Occlumency ever heard of. Insomnia had kept me busy over the years.
Dumbledore frowned, clearly getting the hint that I wasn't going to cooperate easily. "What is your name, my boy?"
I smiled at him widely, but it wasn't friendly; it was like a shark. He had the nerve to call me 'his' boy? "George Weasley," I answered. "The most powerful wizard in Europe."
There was silence. I really mean complete silence. No one spoke. No one moved. No one breathed. Talk about crickets.
"He's lying," Snape finally spoke up in his familiar drawl. Oh, how I missed his dead, rotting corpse…
I slowly stood and turned to face him. "Oh really? Tell me, Snape, do you still love Lily Evans? Still wish you hadn't told Riddle that prophecy? Still try to save Harry's life each year, even as you try to make it miserable?"
There were shocked gasps from all around the room. Snape gaped at me for a moment before trying (and failing) to regain his composer. The pale man sat down shakily, refusing to meet my gaze. Ha. One for the Weasley.
"Shut up," I told him icily. "I don't want to hear it." I turned back to Dumbledore. "You call me here for a reason or just an ill-timed visit?"
Dumbledore looked interested. "Was this a bad time?"
"Every time's a bad time," I replied coldly. "This time was particularly bad. My potion has probably overflowed and all my notes will have burned up. Possibly the table, too. I needed to renew the flame freezing charm on it."
"Oh? Were you researching something?"
"None of your damn business."
"George!" my alternate [it had to be alternate, didn't make sense to be time travel] mother screeched at me suddenly. "Don't talk to the headmaster that way!"
I sighed, though I wasn't feeling guilty at all. Most of my emotions has dried up a long time ago, somewhere between Fred's death and when the charm on Angelina had worn off. "Somewhere, very far away, Molly Weasley will be going frantic looking for her son, whose cauldron is now useless and whose table is on fire. You are not my mother, and I will speak to whomever I want, however I want. Is that understood, Mrs. Weasley?"
There was silence again.
My alternate father gently took my gaping alternate mum's hand. "Yes, George. I'm sorry. We didn't think of that."
I nodded, making sure Molly [it was weird to call her that, she looked exactly like mum] caught my gaze. "I am, too, but that's no reason to yell at me like I'm a child. I'm not, and I haven't been in a long time."
"How old are you, then?" Tonks asked curiously.
I grinned at her, and she shivered. Strange, but not an unusual reaction around me. "Ah, Tonks, good to see you again. Still clumsy as ever?"
Her hair turned Weasley red. "You mean the other me was clumsy too?"
"I'm thirty-two," I answered her first question. "Any more questions, or can I go home?"
Dumbledore spoke up again, just like I was afraid of. "Hold on, George, my boy. We called you here because we need your help."
And there it was. The plea for salvation. The famous Potter Problem.
Did I really have to deal with this?
"Look," I growled, my hands itching to release my wands. "I've got two children at home and a full time job I need to get back to now. Send me back, or I'll show you all exactly what I learned from the other Mad Eye."
They all took a step back, Mad Eye looking especially nervous. That ought to show them.
Dumbledore, of course, didn't move or look nervous. He did, however, look especially sad. He was faking. "George, my boy, I am afraid I have some bad news…"
I had already figured it out. I wasn't called the cleverest wizard in Europe for nothing. "You don't know how to send me back, because you didn't think you'd need to send me back after I killed Riddle."
Everyone looked shocked.
"Who's Riddle?" Kingsley asked tentatively. Ah, the Minister…Kingsley made a good Minister. I'd voted for him.
"Tom Marvelo Riddle," I replied, glowering at Dumbledore. "Known as Voldemort." There were gasps when I said the name. Merlin, were the majority of them Gryffindors or not? "Let me see your notes; I'm sure I can find my own way home."
Dumbledore smiled sorrowfully. "Unfortunately—"
"The notes were destroyed when you made the circle so no one else would find them." It was obvious now. Unless I was willing to rip yet another hole in the universe, I was stuck here.
Everyone looked shocked again.
Arthur cleared his throat. "I am really so sorry we didn't think about what we were doing, er, George."
"It's obvious you didn't know what you were doing, all right," I growled, still glaring at Dumbledore. "You kidnapped me. I have the right to kill all of you right now, burn the house down, and figure out my own way home."
There were more gasps.
"Don't be ridiculous," Tonks said nervously. "You must be joking."
I sighed, and relented. "All right, I couldn't burn the house down."
There was a pause.
"I'd be well within my rights to kill you all, though."
Another pause. Time to drop the cauldron.
"You do realize that my world finished the war years ago, right?"
Dumbledore sighed in relief. "That's—"
"More than half the magical population of the UK was slaughtered, half of what remained were incapacitated and are either dead or in St. Mungo's, and the rest look like they've been fed to the werewolves. Sorry, Professor Lupin."
Lupin barely gasped, "It's all right." He was white and shaking, nothing like the man who'd been murdered by Dolohov.
"It couldn't have been that bad?" McGonagall asked cautiously.
"Imagine everyone looking like either me or Mad Eye," I said coolly. "Now imagine everyone as paranoid as Mad Eye, and think of that being considered average. Finally, think about the entire wizarding world of the UK fitting into the Great Hall at Hogwarts."
Someone screamed. I think it was Vance.
"That's my world," I explained coldly. "This is me. If you wanted someone who's willing to kill, you've got it. But I have conditions."
"Where's Fred?" My mother asked, her voice high pitched in her desperation and fear. Did she think my brother might be less mad? No, that couldn't be it. He had always been more impulsive and cruel than me to begin with.
My heart stopped. I'm pretty sure my magic flared and the room temperature dropped, because everyone shivered and inched away from me.
"Fred?" I asked, absolutely no emotion in my voice. "He's been dead for twelve years."
Mum choked back a sob and turned into dad, whose mouth had fallen open. Everyone else stared at me with incomprehension.
"What?" I asked, my voice hard. "I told you, most people were killed. With a family as large as mine, you really think we'd get away unscathed? We're lucky it was only Fred." The words felt hollow, true as they were.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You're twin is alive upstairs, at this very moment. I am sure we can discuss your conditions."
My heart stopped again. Of course Fred would be alive here; a younger Fred, a different Fred, a Fred and George. He wasn't my twin, and he already had a George.
I blinked. Dumbledore was willing to sell my twin to get some stranger claiming to be George Weasley to off the Dark Lord? Were they even going to give me veritaserum or something to see if it was really me? Good Merlin, how desperate were they?
"You'll answer each and every one of my conditions or I'll sit by and watch as Riddle slaughters your world like he did mine."
A hideous vase to my right shattered. Bloody Hell. I needed to reign in my magic before the whole house blew up. On the other hand, that might not be such a bad idea…
Sirius let out a cheer. "You destroy more of my mum's stuff and I'll give you the Ministry on a platter."
"Last time you stormed the Ministry," I told him, "you died."
"Oh," his mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Maybe not the Ministry, then."
"Maybe not," I agreed with the Marauder. "Now, my conditions. First, I want complete access to the Black library."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I believe we can arrange that. Sirius?"
Sirius shrugged, seemingly not caring about his alternate's death. "All right."
"I want all the books you took out returned, along with all the other Black books in the house. If there's curses on them, I'll get them myself."
"But—" Mum tried to object.
"Molly, George is an adult. I'm sure he can handle himself," Dumbledore reassured her. Wow. He must have been really desperate.
My mum didn't look happy, but she quieted down.
The Order hadn't been that loyal to him in my world, had we? Merlin's tiny wand, no wonder we lost so many.
"I don't want any one of you criticizing my technique on anything," I paused, an idea forming in my head. "And I want guardianship of the twins."
"What?!" Mum yelled. Dad tried to ask something, but I couldn't hear him over the noise. Several other people added comments or objections, but I ignored them.
"I am afraid that both Mr. Weasleys are of age," Dumbledore protested.
"Then give them to me as apprentices."
He paused. Mum tried to interrupt, but he put up a hand. "I'm afraid I still don't see—"
"They're both in school," I narrowed my eyes at him. "It can happen." A nearby painting ripped itself in half, leading Sirius to give another cheer.
Dad frowned. "I want a solid contract," he said quite reasonably, ignoring both Mum and Dumbledore.
I nodded. Placing his sons in an apprenticeship contract was much better than trying to convince me to kill someone because an alternate, younger version of my dead twin was here. "I'll be happy to see that. Shall we draw it up now?"
Mum gasped, and Dad's eyebrow's shot up. "You want to do it now?"
Dumbledore tried to interject, but I cut him off. "This is family business, Dumbledore. The Order can leave."
"The Order will stay here," he said. Thinking that over, he glanced around. "If anyone needs to leave, they may."
No one left.
"All right," I conjured a table; not one of my best works, but the quick spells I'd learned in school, while not as long lasting, were faster than the ancient ones. "Paper?" a long scroll appeared on the table, along with an inkpot and several quills.
My father sighed. "Molly?"
She reluctantly relented. "Make sure they're safe, Arthur."
The contract we drew up was long and complicated. It took several hours, and most of my bargaining skills, which weren't much to begin with when they didn't involve blood of some sort.
I, Arthur William Weasley, and my legal spouse, Molly Ginevra Weasley nee Prewett, hereby bequeath, bestow, and entrust the care, guardianship, and education of my sons, Frederick Gideon Weasley and George Fabian Weasley, to the alternate George Fabian Weasley, the elder, until such time as Frederick and George (the younger) are 30 years of age, as of midnight the 1st of April, 2008.
I, George Fabian Weasley, alternate and elder, hereby undertake and accept the care, guardianship, and education of Frederick Gideon Weasley and George Fabian Weasley, the younger, and understand the following duties. I swear on my magic, mind, and life to fulfill them to the best of my abilities.
I understand that I and I alone am solely responsible for the health and education of these two. I will hold myself responsible if anything endangers their health and education. I understand it is my duty to define the needs and wants of their education.
That meant that they couldn't study under anyone else without my permission. I also had to blame myself if they got hurt or failed their grades, but I carefully worded it so that I wouldn't actually get into any trouble; unless I broke the law, of course. Also, I got to decide exactly what 'education' meant, so I couldn't actually get in trouble for failing to give them a proper education.
I will provide a place for them to live, ideals and crafts for them to learn, and guidance should they need it until they both reach their thirtieth birthday, with the understanding that I am also responsible for their actions under my care, and will punish or reward them as I see fit.
I had to make sure they had adequate housing and learning, with the knowledge that if they screwed up, not only would it be up to me to punish them [or not], but I could legally be held responsible for their doings.
Also, by saying that they both had to reach their thirtieth birthday, it meant if there was a situation like mine, the surviving twin would be stuck under me forever, or at least until I released him.
They shall rely on me for non-emergency housing, shelter, food, water, clothing, and healing until they both reach twenty-five years of age, or I judge them capable of providing it themselves.
They had to live with me until they turned they turned twenty-five or I said otherwise. I had wanted thirty, but mum and dad had both disagreed. Again, both twins needed to reach twenty-five.
Neither shall court nor marry anyone without my express approval and permission until they reach the age of thirty, nor shall they impregnate anyone until after they wed.
This was to avoid a situation like with Angelina. I didn't know how responsible the alternate twins were, so I decided to throw in the pregnancy thing, too. No need for me to have alternate kids yet.
Neither shall invite a guest to my home without my permission or knowledge. If a previous guest wishes to return, I am to be told within 48 hours of the visit except in an emergency.
I would make sure every detail of my wards were sufficient enough to keep out a combined team of Dumbledore and Riddle.
They will understand that if they wish to visit with anyone I have not given permission for, they are to ask for it and accept my answer.
I would not have them run off to play with a friend just because I said a certain person wasn't allowed in the house.
If they wish to leave my current place of residency for any reason, they are to inform me immediately, and will leave only with my permission.
Mum liked this one. She thought they would be safer from the war if they were holed up at my place. I didn't inform her that meant they couldn't visit places like the Burrow unless I wanted them to.
Any duels, challenges, dares, or contests they wish to participate in must be allowed by me. If they cannot be removed from said duel, challenge, dare, or contest, I shall take their place.
Everyone agreed with this one. No one wanted a repeat of the Triwizard tournament, even if Harry survived in both worlds.
They are allowed to finish their seventh and final year of education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, unless the school is under attack or more than thirty percent of the students are being physically harmed by the same force. I am to remain in residency there with them, tutor them, excuse or add them to or from classes if I feel necessary, and ensure their proper care.
I had to stay their final year of school, but I could pick and choose which classes they took. If a bunch of the students were hurt or the school was attacked, I was allowed to take them away.
Truthfully, I probably could have proved Snape was physically harming most of the students with his awful teaching methods, but I didn't bring it up. Yet.
I had something special planned for Umbridge.
I understand they are allowed to visit their family during two weeks of Yule in December, and one week, from Saturday to Sunday, of Easter, in spring. They will spend the day of All Hollows' Eve with me.
Riddle liked to act up during the days of All Hollows', for obvious reasons. I wasn't letting the twins out of my sight when Halloween rolled around, and I'll just consider myself lucky the Weasleys don't know what the Hollows actually mean.
If they break any of the abovementioned agreements, I shall decide and give the punishment.
If I break one of the aforementioned agreements, I shall forfeit use of my magic for one week. If I break a second time, or more than one, then I shall forfeit permanent use of my magic as well as follow the terms agreed at the top of the page.
I was a little worried about my dad; he made laws, so how could he not see all the loopholes in this? Or Dumbledore, for that matter? Did they just think I was choosing the words and not understanding what they meant?
Bill, who had been silently watching me during this entire exchange, whistled as he looked over the contract again.
"Blimey, George, you better make sure they're the best students in Hogwarts or you're in trouble."
I grinned at him loosely. "They'll learn."
He shook his head in amazement. "You know, I should warn you; you hurt a hair on their heads, and I'll—"
"Yeah," I said softly. "If you hurt me at all, Bill Weasley will have a whole lot to say about that too."
He looked at me for a long moment, and turned away quietly. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings; Bill was one of my favorite brothers; but I wanted him to understand. Even if his face was still intact and he didn't have a habit of eating raw meat, this Bill would do anything to protect his siblings.
I rubbed my hands together, feeling much rejuvenated after signing with a blood quill [nasty things] that both twins were safely in my possession.
"Shall we tell them, then?"
Mum called all the kids to join us in the kitchen. I hid in the corner behind a cabinet so I could step out and scare them at the opportune moment. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they couldn't see me from my current hidey spot. Everyone was giving me funny looks, except Snape, who was ignoring me; Dumbledore, who simply smiled; and Bill, who knew what I was doing.
Harry entered first, looking exactly like he had when he was fifteen. Hermione and Ron came next, and then—
Several dishes shattered, causing everyone to duck and several to shriek.
"George!" Mum reprimanded.
"It wasn't me!" my alternate self protested, staring wide-eyed at the ceramic shards from his position next to Mini-Fred.
The kids looked confused.
"But you said…" Ron started, showing off a large chunk of something green in his teeth. Gross.
"About that," Bill coughed, drawing the attention to him. "You see, Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to have some back up in the war."
The kids just stared at him.
"He used an old spell to summon a hero from another world."
They still stared at him.
"It was supposed to be you, Harry."
Mini-Harry looked offended. "I don't need another me! Why wasn't I asked about this? No one tells me anything!" He was literally steaming; he must have just arrived from the Dursleys.
"Wait," Hermione held up a hand. "It was supposed to be Harry?"
Realization dawned on Little-George and Little-Fred. The trio was still staring mostly slack jawed [or glaring] at the Order.
I cleared my throat reluctantly and raised my head up over the cabinet, causing them all to jump.
Mini-Me looked offended. "Don't call me that! Blimey, what happened to you, mate?"
The five of them were staring at me in shock.
I shrugged casually, frantically throwing up extra Occlumency shields. The cabinet I was hiding behind wobbled. A rather large part of me really wanted to hunker down behind the cabinet and not come out ever again, but I cleared my throat (again). Might as well get it over with quickly.
"Fred. Been a while."
Fred [at least I thought it was Fred. We really did look alike] blinked and looked confused. "Why? What happened to me?"
Hermione gasped, and I thought she had realized about Fred until she started babbling. "This is incredible! Are you really from another world? What's it like there? Are things similar? What's different? What are you here for? What spell was used? Will you be going back? Will anyone else be coming? How—"
Unwilling to face the stream of questions, I silenced her with a flick of my finger.
"Hey!" Ron waved a hand in front of her still-talking-yet-silent mouth. "Hermione! What did you to her?!"
I shrugged, stepped out from behind the cabinet, and leaned against it. A glass of water on the table cracked and sprung a leak, but otherwise nothing happened. "Just silenced her, Ronniekins."
He grinned at me warily. "Good for you. Never would've gotten a word in otherwise."
"I know. It would be a bit awkward if George Weasley didn't know his own sister-in-law." I appeared to have rediscovered my old habit of speaking about myself in the third person. Oh well.
Hermione stopped jabbering silently, and the trio's jaws dropped in shocked unison.
"I knew it!" Mini-Me said triumphantly. "Pay up, Fred!"
My heart skipped a beat, remembering when Fred and I had made that very same bet. He'd never had the chance to pay up.
"Ron?" Harry asked dumbly. "And Hermione? Married?"
"With two kids," I answered, thinking fondly of my niece and nephew. Mum shrieked in utter joy. "Rose and Hugo. Nice kids. Hugo's a bit boring, but Rose is fun."
Hermione and Ron's jaws moved up and down silently. I didn't even have to silence Ron.
"As for your questions, Hermione; yes, not too bad, yes, dunno, to kill Riddle, not sure, no, and no."
Everyone in the room stared at me.
"You know, from the way you all keep staring at me, I'm either the most handsome man on the planet or you've never had an otherworldly visitor before. I'm going to go with the first answer."
Mini-Me snorted. "Sure, mate. Go for it. How'd you lose the ear?"
I jerked my head towards Snape, a small, wry smile on my face. "Ask him."
All the red heads in the room, as well as most everyone else, turned to gawp at Snape. Mum puffed up her fairly giant chest, ready for a shouting match, and the twins started ruffling through their pockets.
"He saved my life," I finished, somewhat unwillingly. It would have been fun to watch Mum and the twins rip into Snape, but I wanted to deal with him myself.
Everyone swiveled back to me.
Snape grunted in surprise.
Dumbledore smiled, and his eyes Twinkled TM. "I'm so glad Severus was able to prove his loyalty." Seriously? Cutting off my ear proved his loyalty? Okay, maybe I hadn't been very clear, but still.
I glared at him. "He was on no one's side but his own. If he comes near me or the twins this time 'round, I'll skin him. That clear?"
Snape paled again, and everyone stared at me.
Dumbledore's Tinkle™ dimmed. "George, there is no reason for—"
"I really will," I promised, reaching casually into my pocket and smoothly pulling out my knife. "It doesn't have to be quick, but I promise it'll be messy. Questions?"
Snape's eyes started to roll back in his head, but he shook himself and apparated out of the room. I shook my head disappointedly; who did he think he was dealing with? A twist of my fingers and a whispered word brought him right back to me with a nasty, painful sounding pop. He landed on the floor, unconscious.
The twins and Ron looked green. Hermione turned white, but I was pleased to see that Harry was looking particularly pleased. Dumbledore, of course, wasn't going to stand for it.
"George," he said sternly. "There was no reason to do that to Professor Snape."
Was he wondering how I had reversed the apparation? Merlin, I hoped he didn't figure it out. That would be awkward.
"Yes, there was," I argued, plopping down onto a chair and tossing my knife up and down. All my nervousness about seeing the twins had vanished. Merlin; I really had gone mad after Fred, hadn't I? I thought it was just Skeeter being her usual charming self.
"Er…" Little-Me looked like he desperately wanted to say something. Odd. It wasn't really like me to keep my mouth shut.
"Yeah?" I prompted him.
"Would you really skin Snape?" he asked.
I was both affronted and insulted. "'Course I would! What, do you think I won't follow through on a promise?"
He quickly tried to mollify me. "No, that's not it—"
"Then you think I couldn't do it?"
"That's exactly what I think!" he paused. "I mean, I couldn't do it."
"Don't worry," I told him. "I can teach you, if you want. It's really not that hard. Just make a couple slits—"
He turned white. "Just asking!"
"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to." I slid off the chair. "Anyone know if there's a real estate pamphlet lying around?"
Mum gasped. "You can't be thinking of moving out already!" She sounded close to tears. What was wrong about me skinning Snape? He deserved it, and she herself had threatened to several times after the war, and would have if he'd been alive. Was she upset that the twins would be living with me? She had agreed to it the first time. Speaking of, someone should probably tell them soon…
I was starting to see some of the differences in our worlds. Mine had survived a war, just barely. Theirs hadn't even started.
AN: Here it is, the first chapter of An Incorrect...well, if you're reading this, then obviously you know the story title. Please enjoy and review! It helps George keep his sanity. XD
Cover art belongs to Viria13.