A/N: Hello everyone. This is my second fic and I'd like to think I'm getting better, but not too sure. So if you could give me your opinion that would be amazing! Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy.

George leaned back in his chair, taking a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as he lifted his legs- dirty boots included- onto the small wooden table.

It was dark here.

He threw an orange bean into his mouth as he looked around for something to do, but it was very dreary and plain in this small shack.

Hmm, Clementine. He squinted in the faint light to search for another orange bean. He liked citrus.

Ginny likes citrus too. He sighed, sending his fiery-red Weasley bangs out of his eyes. It had been so hard saying goodbye to his little sister- who looked uncannily like himself, by the way- yesterday morning, but he knew she could take care of herself. Maybe too much, he thought, eyeing the small scar on his wrist from their quidditch matches.

Still, Hogwarts was going to be very dangerous this year. Oh, Ginny. Be careful.

George held up a brownish bean to his eye. Either chocolate or- shit? Maybe? He decided against it. He arched his arm, and with a small flick he sent it….

"Eruphm." Fred grumbled, the bean falling from his head to down his shirt.

Perfect.

He tried another one- a blue one this time- but he missed.

Third time the charm? He flicked another- so close! It had bounced off his ear.

Really, Fred knew better then to sleep then when George was not.

He sunk further down in that uncomfortable chair. Why had their father told them to wait in Lupin's backyard anyway? Tonks wasn't even home. She was always worth a visit; they had a lot of fun in those Grimmauld Place days.

The crooked wooden door slammed open- George leapt up, clutching his long, almost curved, alder wand.

"Boys?!" a familiar voice said urgently, suddenly- it was their father, looking disheveled, frantic- Fred, who had fallen to the floor in his surprise was stammering-

"Wh-Whats goin on? Dad?"

"Come on now- come with me- this isn't safe- come on, now!" He grabbed for Fred, pulling him up, gesturing George to follow him.

"Blimey," Fred complained as he was practically dragged by his Father into the dark night. "Not in any rush, are we?"

"Hold on!" Their father's face was pale, his balding red head turning from side to side anxiously. George reached out and caught hold of his shoulder just as he turned quickly on the spot- George was being squeezed without mercy, his entire body folding in on itself- he had to concentrate to keep everything together-

Pop.

They were on the seaside, a strong wind picking up his hair. Light was still fading in this part of the country.

"Come, George!" His dad was whispering, George followed him over rocky terrain- where were they going?

"Shell Cottage" Mr. Weasley turned to his sons. "Shell Cottage, Seaside Essex."

"He's gone mad." Fred said faintly to his twin.

"No! Concentrate!" Arthur Weasley looked frenzied- George decided it was not the time to ignore him.

Shell Cottage on the seaside of…Essex, right? Okay. Seaside, Essex there was something called shell cottage, Shell cottage. Shell-ell-ell cottage.

"Who'da thought?" Fred sighed beside him- George looked up. There, on the edge of the sea was- where there was nothing before- a small house. Or, a cottage. Whatever.

A small rectangle of golden light shown out from the house. A figure was silhouetted in its glow-

"Dad?" a voice rang out- Bill! George thought with a jolt of excitement.

"Yes, Bill!" their father shouted back. "Arthur Weasley, father of seven, favorite plug in my collection is the one you found me for my 42nd birthday!"

"What color was it?" Bill yelled, coming out of the doorway.

"Forest Green!" Mr. Weasley was now running toward the cottage. "It's Harry, Bill, I have news of Harry!"

Fred whistled.

George looked at his reflection, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"

A/N: Special thanks to The Amazing Chez for helping me proof and just generally being, well, amazing.