Dead Twin Walking

Author's Notes: Sorry this update took so long. I've been busy, and the fic as a whole was in dire need of improvement. Further updates will be quicker.

Chapter 2: So Close, and Yet So Far...

"Somewhere something is calling for you
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see"
-"Two Worlds, One Family" (Phil Collins)

(The Burrow, 11 years later)

"C'mon Fred, time to get up!" Mr. Weasley's voice called from the second landing hall, accompanied by rapping on the bedroom door.

The only reply was a muffled groan as Fred pulled his pillow over his head, which made his father arch an eyebrow in surprise. Normally he didn't have to do this, as Fred was usually one of the first ones up, dashing down the stairs and plowing through any unsuspecting family members. But lately, the fourth-oldest Weasley child had taken to sleeping in.

"Are you all right in there?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Fine, fine, I'm up," Fred answered, sitting up in bed. There were no further questions, only footsteps as the hall was vacated. Only Fred knew that what he'd said was far from the truth.

For the past several nights Fred had been getting rotten sleep on account of the strange dream he'd kept having. A dream that seemed more and more like a memory with each reoccurrence. Even when he was awake the mere thought of it made him shiver.

If it really was a memory, it had to have been from when he was very young, because what he saw was from an elevated perspective and a tad blurry. When he looked straight up, he saw his father wearing a devastated expression. To Fred's left was his mother, who was sitting up in a bed and bawling. Something horrible had happened, but what?

Then the view would turn to straight ahead, where a strange man was holding a blue bundle. Inside of it was a pale, red-haired baby whose eyes were shut. Who was this nameless infant whose face seemed so familiar, though he couldn't place it?

He wanted to reach out and comfort his parents, ask them what in Merlin's name was going on. But all he could do was watch because he was trapped, so to speak, within his younger self's body. Whatever happened next, Fred never found out because the scene was always shattered by a sudden ear-splitting wail, upon which he would wake up in a cold sweat with a dull ache deep inside...

He ran his fingers through his cropped flaming red hair and slid out of bed. As it was summer, he tried to figure out why his father had taken the liberty of waking him up, concerned or not. The calendar on the wall caught his eye, and he grinned. "Oh right, got to get my supplies at Diagon Alley today."

Fred would be starting his first year at Hogwarts the following September, but robes, a wand, and other such things weren't the only "supplies" he had in mind. A prankster by nature (much to his mother's dismay), he intended to make as much mischief at school as humanly possible.

The only problem was that while he was growing up, there always seemed to be something missing, or rather someone... He was two years younger than Percy and two years older than Ron, and the age gap was even wider in terms of their other siblings. But there was no brother or sister his own age with which to share his prank ideas or just his feelings in general. Since none of the others were twins or triplets, such things shouldn't have bothered him, but they did.

Their parents' suspicious actions didn't help either. Every April 1st, Fred's birthday, there was the usual celebration at the Burrow with the whole family; or most of it plus cards by owl post when the elder boys were at Hogwarts. But when no one else was looking, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had seemed more than a bit, well, saddened...

Fred had caught a brief glimpse of it once and asked them about it, but they'd immediately begun acting normal and denied such behavior. They were hiding something from him, but what? And why? So many unanswered questions...

But now was not the time to ponder such things. There'd be plenty of time for that later. He had to get dressed and downstairs before someone else came upstairs looking for him.

Little did Fred realize that the answer to all his questions was only miles away, equally confused about his own life...

* * * * * *

(Elsewhere...?)

Darkness...
Muffled voices...
Sounds of bawling and wailing...
A vaguely familiar female face...

'What does it all mean?'

"George Feralis get your lazy arse out of bed this instant!" a nasty female voice yelled from the hall.

"Yes Mum..." George responded in a half-exasperated tone as he slowly climbed out of bed. It wasn't his fault that strange dreams were making him lose sleep.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately but get rid of it!" she added, poking her head into the doorway. "And none of your funny business while we're getting your school supplies!"

"Right." With that she was gone, and not a moment too soon or she would have seen the obscene gesture George made in her direction.

It was mornings like these that made him wonder if she was his real mother. He'd grown up an only child yet he felt out of place, like he didn't belong.

Come to think of it, he wasn't like the rest of the family at all. Mr. Feralis had black hair and icy blue eyes, while his wife had golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes. In great contrast, George's features included bright red hair, freckles, and green eyes. He didn't act much like them either, although that was mostly out of personal choice. They were much too serious and uncaring for his taste.

But those weren't the only reasons why George felt out of place at home. There was something missing in his life besides the loving attention normal parents lavish on their children. It felt like half of his soul was gone, torn away by an unseen force. But he never expressed this to his parents. They wouldn't have understood, much less cared.

Half the time the only attention they gave him at all was when he was caught making mischief of one kind or another. And if they weren't griping about his antics they were planning his future. They wanted him to be great, and to be a member of "The Grand House of Slytherin" when he got to Hogwarts later that year. Both of them had been in Slytherin in their day, so it stood to reason that their son would be sorted into that House as well.

"But I don't feel like a Slytherin..." George thought out loud, looking himself over in the mirror as he got dressed. Personally, he hoped to be sorted into one of the other Houses instead. He didn't care which one, just as long as it wasn't Slytherin. But at the same time he feared that his parents would skin him alive if such a thing happened.

"Better get going before they start bitching, as usual..." He stuffed a few tricks into the pockets of his robes (there was no telling who or what he'd meet down Knockturn Alley before he got his wand at Ollivanders) and headed out into the hall.

* * * * * *

Sometime later in Diagon Alley, the Weasleys were purchasing Charlie's, Percy's, and now Fred's school supplies as well; Bill had just graduated the year before. Most of them were second-hand, but that was something all of them had gotten used to by now. They still had to put Ginny and Ron through school in the years to come, after all.

George's shopping trip seemed normal at first, but only in comparison to previous ones. George was always ordered to keep a low profile and remain silent unless told spoken to, not so much because of Knockturn Alley's reputation as the sharp contrast between his looks and his parents'. Why they even bothered to bring him at all eluded him except for the times he'd needed new robes.

How he was expected to behave actually worked to his advantage. Once he was old enough and bold enough, George made a habit out of quietly slipping away and exploring the area on his own when his parents weren't looking. As long as he kept tabs on their whereabouts, he could do as he pleased and, with a little practice, reappear at their side acting as though he'd never left it. An invisibility cloak would have helped him greatly, but alas, the Feralises didn't own one he could nick. During this particular trip he managed to spend the better part of it solo as usual, but barely made it back in time when his parents abruptly decided to finally get his school supplies at Diagon.

Things first took a turn for the unusual in Ollivanders when George chose his wand, or rather, the wand chose him. Mahogany and unicorn tail hair, 8 inches. At that point, his parents were off getting potion ingredients and a cauldron, so he was alone when Mr. Ollivander told him that that particular unicorn had given a second tail hair.

"So, what of it?" George asked.

"Oddly enough I just sold your wand's brother earlier today. Willow and unicorn tail hair, 10 inches," Ollivander replied. "The buyer was a boy about your age; resembled you a lot too. Do you have a twin brother?"

"Not that I know of, last I checked I was an only child."

"Curious indeed..."

"I'll say..." George paid for his wand and left the shop, deep in thought. This was the first time in all his 11 years he'd been told that he resembled anyone. His parents were nowhere in sight, so he headed for Quality Quidditch Supplies to have a look at the latest racing broom model, oblivious to the conversations around him.

"Mum, I'm going to look at brooms!" Fred called.

"Fred, you know they don't allow First Years to have brooms!" scolded Mrs. Weasley.

"I know, but I want see what I might be riding next year if I make the House Quidditch team!"

"Oh, all right..."

George attempted to focus on the Cleansweep Five in the display window, but he couldn't help but concentrate on his reflection as Mr. Ollivander's words played over and over in his head. Then he thought that he hadn't gotten enough sleep and was seeing things, because suddenly he seemed to be casting not one but two reflections! There was one in front of him, which was normal, but also another to his right!

More confused than ever, George turned to the side and received the shock of his life. For there, mouth also agape, was an 11-year-old redheaded boy that could've been his mirror image.