Disclaimer - Still don't own it.

A/N - Hope you all enjoy the chapter! Thank you to the people that reviewed and added me to their alerts.

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Chapter 2 -

"You have a visitor Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey stated as she gently shook the shoulder of the wizarding worlds savior.

Harry's eyes fluttered open. The sleeping draughts always made him incredibly drowsy even after he had been sleeping for quite awhile. He yawned, happy that his breath didn't get caught in his throat this time and then blinked trying to get his blurred vision to clear up. Finally things settled back into place and he could make out Madam Pomfrey and the smiling red head behind her.

"George!" Harry croaked sitting up suddenly.

"Easy now. Don't rush yourself." Madam Pomfrey said placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sure he's been in and out of her enough times that he knows the procedures." George said pulling a chair up next to the bad and sitting down.

Madam Pomfrey shot him a look that Harry couldn't quite understand .George simply shrugged at her though.

"I'll just go get your potions for the morning." She said stiffly before marching away from the two males.

Harry frowned.

"She never liked me and Fred." George sighed. "Well, how have you been?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Bored out of my mind. I'm either asleep or I'm drinking horrid tasting potions, and half the time the potion are to put me to sleep."

"So, does that mean if I asked you to come to Hogsmeade with me you would say 'yes'?" George asked cocking his head slightly.

Harry's eyes lit up suddenly but died down just as quickly. "I would love to, but I doubt I can leave."

"I already got permission from McGonagall. She thinks it's be good for you to get some air, and maybe we can pick up some butterbeers. You look like you could use something to warm you up proper." George said.

"Really? She doesn't mind even though it's not a Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry asked frowning.

George shook his head. "Nope. Thinks it would be good for your health."

Harry pushed the covers off of him. "What are we waiting on then? I'm ready."

"Mr. Potter! Stay seated. I have not given you your potions." Madam Pomfrey said hurrying back over to his bedside. Harry sent George a sad look.

"Just take your potions so we can get out of here, Harry. Oh and...put some pants on mate." George said dramatically shielding his eyes.

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"You will use this while you are walking." Madam Pomfrey told Harry handing him a simple looking cane.

"A cane?" Harry practically balked. "Why do I need a cane?"

"Because frankly you are not well enough to walk on your own, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey clipped.

Harry took the bit of wood she was offering and sent George a look that could only be described as hopeless.

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"Are you alright?" George asked as Harry leaned up against another wall.

His face was frightfully pale, and he was sweating as if he was burning up. The weather was pleasant enough. Early spring wasn't warm enough to put a sweat on anyone's brow, and yet Harry Potter was sweating so much he looked as if he might drown at any moment.

"I'm...fine." Harry said in-between breaths. "Just...not used...to walking...I...guess."

George took Harry by the arm and steered him into the Three Broomsticks.

"Maybe we should sit a bit then." George offered pushing him into a seat near the door. The younger male's neck lolled slightly as he sat.

"I'm fine." Harry repeated quietly.

George went up to the bar. The potion in his pocket hit his leg lightly with every step he took. It was a constant reminder for why he had brought Harry out in the first place. He glanced back at his friend. His head was drooped to one side and George could still see the sweat that covered him even from this far.

"Wha' can I get ya, love?" A voice shocked him out of his thoughts.

George started so violently that he almost fell over. Madam Rosmerta was flashing him a friendly smile.

"Oh...yes. Erm, two butterbeers please." George said quickly.

Madam Rosmerta nodded and moved away to get his order. George sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair. There was a couple bickering not far away, and they were making it hard for him to slip back into his thoughts. Madam Rosmerta brought back his butterbeers.

"Eight sickles." She said.

George dropped a gallon onto the counter. "Keep the change." He said absent-mindedly. He grabbed the two drinks and made it back to the table Harry was sitting at. Harry it seemed had fallen asleep in just the short amount of time that it had taken George to get the drinks. With a quick glance around the pub to make sure no one was watching him, George pulled out the small potion and dumped it into Harry's drink. With every passing second since they arrived in the Three Broomstick George felt more and more like a right bloody git. He had been telling himself since he saw Harry in the Hospital Wing that he was doing this not only for the wizarding worlds sake, but for Harry's. Harry wouldn't want to have his soul controlled by Voldemort. George knew in his heart that Harry would rather be off dead, but he could help but feel bad for not at least telling Harry what was happening.

Some things should just be left unsaid George thought sadly.

"Harry." George said quietly. He reached over and gently shook Harry's shoulder.

Harry groaned lightly, and let his eyes sluggishly peek at the person in front of him.

"Another potion?" Harry asked.

George's heart leapt into his throat. Had Harry not actually been asleep? Had he seen him put in the potion?

"H-harry...I-I-" George sputtered.

Harry opened his eyes suddenly and looked around.

"Sorry, must have nodded off." Harry said with a slight stretch. "I thought I was in the hospital wing for a second."

George breathed a sigh of relief. "I see." George said taking a drink of his butterbeer. He wished he had gotten fire whiskey instead.

"Hey George. How are you getting along without Fred?" Harry asked suddenly.

George choked in mid-drink, causing some of it to go down his front. Coughing a few times, he wiped as much of it off as he could.

"I'm sorry!" Came the hurried reply. "I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, no." George shook his head. "It's alright. It's just...you're the first person to ask me that. Everyone else has just kind of swept it under the rug."

"I'm sorry." Harry said sadly. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here. I mean I've never had a brother, but losing Sirius was probably the most painful experience in my life."

George nodded numbly all the while thinking. I'm sorry Harry. There won't be a next time.

"Thanks Harry." George said quietly.

Harry offered him a smile. "No problem George. What are friends for?" Harry finally picked up his drink. "To Fred!"

"To Fred." George said clinking his glass against Harry's.

George's breath caught in is throat as Harry went to take a drink. The glass had just about touched his lips when the the couple by the bar's bickering turned into a full fledged quarrel.

"I don't care what you say, Martin! I know what I saw!" The blond yelled poking her hubby hard in the chest.

Martin took a step back from Janet. She could get violent if she was pushed to far.

"Buttercup, I promise. She was just a friend." Martin said trying to placate his angry girlfriend.

"Just a friend?! Is that why you had your knackers practically hanging out while you were hanging all over that slag?! " Janet yelled taking the mug she was drinking out of and threw it directly at Martin's head.

While Martin had been in school, he had played as a beater on his house's Quidditch team, and even after he graduated he continued to play the beater position with his friends almost every weekend. In short, he had better reflexes than most. He ducked, missing the flying mug completely. It sored through the air and hit Harry's mug with an ear shattering CLANK. The liquid inside went everywhere. It was all over the walls, table, floor, and all over the Harry and George. In fact, it seemed to have gone everywhere except where it was supposed to: Down Harry's throat.

"Oi! Watch it you two!" George roared, jumping from his seat. He pushed his hair from his face and grimaced at some of the sticky liquid that had gotten into it.

"Piss off! This has nothing to do with you!" The blond who had thrown the mug screamed.

"Please, love, you're making a scene." The man that the mug was originally aimed at said softly, trying to ease his way up to her.

"Making a scene?" The woman balked at him. She reached for the mug he had been drinking out of. "I'll show you a scene!"

"Oh bollocks." George said. He grabbed Harry by the arm and jerked him out of his chair and out of the Three Broomsticks before the sound of metal hitting the wall could be heard and then Madam Rosmerta yelling at the couple.

"Crazy broad." George muttered darkly as soon as they were out of the pub. He glanced down at Harry. The younger male was still staring back at the pub entrance.

"I didn't even get one drink." He sighed.

George's stomach tightened. Harry hadn't taken the potion. George's mind suddenly went back to McGonagall's office after the hat spat his name out.

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Flashback -

"George." McGonagall said with only a slight frown gracing her features.

"What?" George said with a gasp. "Professor!"

McGonagall held her hand up. "Everyone. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave, except for George."

The group filed out sending George mixed looks. Some were sad. Some seemed angry. Some just confused.

"Progessor, I can't." George said quietly.

McGonagall held her fingers steepled in front of her.

"I must admit. I am surprised by the bag's judgement, but the bag is never wrong. You are the one that is most suited for this." McGonagall said with a slight sigh.

"But, Professor..." George trailed off dropping his face into his hands. A few minutes passed before he pulled his face from his hands. Tear streaks ran down his face. "Do you promise that he won't be in pain?"

McGonagall nodded. "He will fall asleep just as he has been doing...he just won't wake up this time."

George nodded and started to reach for the potion. McGonagall grabbed his hand.

"There is one more thing." She said quietly.

"Yeah?" He asked.

McGonagall licked her lips anxiously. "If...by some chance you can't get the potion in him. You are going to have to...find another way to kill him."

George jerked his hand back. "You said it was going to be painless!"

"It will just as long as you give him the potion, but if for some reason, you can't, the bottle broke in your pocket, you dropped it somewhere, you couldn't slip it to him because there are too many people around; I don't know. What I do know is things happen, and you need a plan B just in case."

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Present -

"George..." Harry said quietly. "Are you alright?"

George's hadn't let go of the younger male since he drug him out of the pub. His grip had steadily tightened on the ravenette's arms until Harry was sure George was going to snap them. If he had more strength he would have shook the red head off. The sudden glazed look in the older males eye frightened him.

"George?" Harry's cane clattered to the cobblestone ground.

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Flashback -

"That's...barbaric." George said growing nauseas .

McGonagall nodded. "I agree, but it is one of the of the only ways to kill him without making it too obvious. You can carry him back to the castle. We'll tell everyone that he fainted while he was with you and just didn't wake up. Once you're here we'll cover the bruises with a make-up spell."

"I can't just use my wand or something?" George asked.

"No." McGonagall said sternly. "Do not under any circumstance use your wand to kill him. The Ministry will be able to track the spell, and I will not have you rot away in Azkaban."

George swallowed hard. "Alright...I understand."

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Present -

George, no matter how hard he concentrated, could not keep his breath regular. It came in short ragged bursts. He could hear his heart pumping loudly in his ears. He glanced down at Harry, who was still locked in his tight grip.

Harry chose this time to speak again.

"George? Mate...you don't...seem well."

George flung his hand over Harry's mouth and wrapped his other arm around the smaller male's waist. With a small grunt he hefted Harry off of the ground and up against his chest. The younger male cried out against his hand, but George just shushed him. With a quick glance around to make sure no was around, he carried Harry into the nearest alley.

George grimaced at the trash and general muck of the alley. He pushed Harry off of his chest and up against the alley wall. Looking straight into the bespectacled boys eye's George felt a sob rise to his throat.

"I'm sorry." George whispered before letting the boy's mouth and shirt go only to catch him by the throat.

Harry's eyes went wide as he clawed at George's arms; his legs tried to kick out, but the red head pressed himself up against the ravenette to keep him from moving. By now George was sobbing loudly as he tightened his grip on the smaller male. Harry's glasses started to slide from his face as his eyes began to slide into the back of his head. With an angry growl, George released the ravenette. Harry crumpled to the ground, coughing and sputtering, trying to feed his lungs the oxygen they were screaming for. George dropped to his knees and wrapped Harry in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." George sobbed holding on tightly to Harry. "I'm so sorry."

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A/N - Well...that was very interesting to write. Hope you enjoyed it. Good job to petites sorcieres for guessing the person. I'm going to let you all in on a little something. When I was writing the the ending scene of this chapter, I felt like I was writing a rape scene instead of a attempted murder one. / Anyway, hope you liked it! Give me some feed-back! :)