Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination. The characters depicted here all belong to J.K. Rowling, except for those that I have fabricated for the story's purpose. The song lyric belongs to Kelly Clarkson and company.

Because of you

I am afraid

George twisted his Cleansweep to a stop and looked down on the Pitch. Oliver had dragged them out to an early practice at five. In. The. Bleeding. Morning. It was now half past seven; they'd not stopped since they'd begun. Not even for breakfast, as his stomach was ever so kind to remind him with a gurgle of protest.

Everybody was here - Katie, Angelina, and Alicia running a hawk formation play; Oliver waiting at the hoops to defend; he and Fred flinging Bludgers to interrupt the girls as often as they could - except Harry. Oliver liked to train him alone sometimes so that Harry could learn Oliver's most dangerous Seeker techniques without anyone in the way.

As much as George liked Harry, right about now he wanted to drag him out of bed, fling him onto a broom, and send him rocketing into the Whomping Willow. He was just an ickle Firstie, after all; the Willow probably wouldn't be able to whack someone so small.

George sighed. Deathwishing wasn't going to whack the Bludgers.

He readied his bat and took off, swinging mightily at an errant Bludger. They were practicing with four today to tighten the Chasers' routes. George thought it was a little crazy of Oliver to have four Bludgers on the field at once, but Oliver was always a little...touched when it came to Quidditch.

Actually, he was a little touched when it came to most things.

George's instincts suddenly told him to duck, and he obeyed. A rogue Bludger went flying over his head.

"Oy! Watch your aim, brother!" he yelled out to Fred, who was staring straight at him.

Fred didn't reply. He flew over to where a Bludger had just missed Alicia and swung.

The Bludger came straight for George's face.

George smacked it, hard. It flew away in an arc, heading for the stands.

"Fred! What the hell!" George screamed, hunkering down on his broom to zoom in on his brother.

Fred flew right, his bat already rearing back to hit a Bludger that had been aimlessly roaming. Fred connected with it; George swerved underneath the shot and continued to close in on him.

"Fred! FRED!" George shrieked.

Still no response.

Fred took aim again, flying further out of George's reach. Again George dodged the Bludger his brother shot his way.

Fred shot again. George flew through the Chasers' pincer formation to outrun a second Bludger hot on his tail, spinning to avoid the first. He felt it rush past his hair.

"George! This isn't Beater-Defend!" Angelina called out. Beater-Defend was when Oliver had Fred and George line up as Chasers for the other team. Sometimes he'd call in a reserve Chaser - a chipper Fourth Year whose name George still couldn't remember - to act as the third.

"Something's wrong with Fred!" George yelled back, spinning left. The Bludger smashed into one of the stand towers.

"Like what?" Katie called, pulling out her wand. Alicia and Angelina did the same. Oliver flew over to join the crowd.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I didn't call time-out. Let's move, girls!"

"George thinks there's something up with Fred," Alicia replied.

"I know there's something wrong with Fred!" George yelled, somersaulting mid-air to duck another Bludger.

The Chasers and Keeper turned as one to their right to watch Fred swing yet another Bludger George's way. They turned left to watch George divert its path with his bat. Then they turned to each other.

"Hawkshead on the Bludger near the goalposts. Capture it at all costs and get it over to me. I know the deactivation charm for it," Oliver ordered. The girls nodded and sped off.

Oliver flew over to George.

"We've got your back," he said. Then he sped over to the goalposts.

George had time for a quick smile of gratitude before speeding away from another oncoming Bludger.

He didn't understand what was going on. He hadn't stolen any girls Fred was interested in. He hadn't pulled a prank on him, or without him. He hadn't done anything to set Fred off, and yet here he was, clearly trying to decapitate his twin.

No, this was not Fred. Fred would not do this. Someone had to have charmed him.

Maybe even...the Imperius Curse.

As George dodged, flew, and whacked, he tried to come up with a possible list of enemies.

Snape. Peeves. The Bloody Baron. McGonagall. Flint. Davies. Diggory. Draco Malfoy.

Snape never came out of the dungeons, as far as George knew, so he seemed unlikely. Peeves and the Baron couldn't cast spells. McGonagall detested them, but she wouldn't stoop so low. Davies and Diggory were Captains of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but they didn't want to win that badly.

That left Malfoy and Flint.

Malfoy - albeit the scum of the earth - had to be innocent. He and Harry were in the same year. No First Year could do a curse like this.

Marcus Flint, though...

Well, that was a possibility. He could have gotten one of the older guys on the team to do it for him, too, like Higgs.

George was decided. Marcus Flint had cursed Fred.

"George!" Oliver called out. Angelina, Katie, and Alicia flew behind him, each holding a Bludger in their hands. George nodded, understanding their plan in an instant, and smacked the final oncoming Bludger over to a waiting Oliver. Oliver slowed its trajectory with an Impediment Jinx, then cast the deactivation charm. The Bludger fell neatly into his left hand.

Now it was George's turn.

With a curt nod of thanks to Oliver, George flew in after his brother.

At first, Fred didn't move. But as George got closer and closer, Fred's eyes widened and he took off. The two chased each other through the pitch, a game of cat-and-mouse that, since they were twins, looked more like a war between a man and himself.

Finally, Fred swerved right and George anticipated the move. He collided with his twin, leaping off of his broom to tackle Fred. They fell as one to the sand of the Pitch below them, Cushioning Charms securing their fall from the rest of the team above.

George wrestled with Fred on the ground, rolling and kicking and punching until he finally pinned Fred's wrists to the ground underneath them.

"Fred! Stop it, Fred! It's me. George. C'mon, Fred," George pleaded, his voice decrescendoing into a whisper. Fred continued to squirm.

Then George caught it.

Dilated pupils. Unfocused eyes. Irises changing colors.

"He's been Confunded!" George yelled out to his teammates. Fred took the moment of distraction to savagely kick George off of him. George crumpled backwards, landing hard on his back.

Fred got to his feet and pulled his wand from his pocket. He leveled it right between George's eyes.

For one terrifying moment, George had no idea what his twin brother was going to do.

Fred's mouth moved, but the curse failed to fall from his lips. Four jets of red light came streaming down from above.

One hit his forehead. One hit his stomach. One went over his head. One was too far left.

Fred collapsed.

George scampered over to his twin, ignoring his sudden headache and stomachache to make sure he was still breathing. Two Stunners could do a lot of damage if they hit in the right spots at the right time.

"George," Katie whispered. She had landed beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"George," she repeated when he didn't move. He looked up this time, then nodded, making way for her. She was the team Healer, after all. Fred was in good hands.

She countered the Confundus Charm, then grimaced.

"He looks okay, but I don't know about internal injuries. Let's get him to the Hospital Wing," Katie ordered. Oliver nodded, raising his wand, but George held up a hand.

"I'll carry him," George whispered. Oliver held his gaze for a moment, then lowered his wand, nodding.

"I'll put the Bludgers away," Angelina offered.

"I'll get the brooms," Alicia said.

"And I'll sign us out of the Pitch," Oliver added.

George lifted Fred and began the long trek to the Hospital Wing, Katie walking at his side, performing diagnostic charms as they went.

Three hours later, Fred would wake up and not remember a thing.

George would make a joke about the whole thing and they would laugh.

They will never find out who Confunded Fred.

But when George wishes Fred goodnight that evening, and they crawl into their separate beds at half past midnight, George will no longer feel like the half to a whole.

Part of him will be afraid of this.

And part of him will be overjoyed.

Author's Note: There's the twins for you! We've got two chapters to go, and I know exactly who they'll focus on! Hurray for having a plan! Please, as always, remember to leave a review.