Code: HP,YYH -TMTC-MC

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured media, the rights go to their respected owners.

Media: Harry Potter Crossover Yu Yu Hakusho

Title: The More Things Change

Notable Sub-genres: [Still contemplating Pairing. May be Gen] Twins AU. Dumbledore bashing.

Rating: "M" for later Crude Language and Mature Themes including; Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, War,

Chapter: Multichapter

Status. In progress.

The Astronomy Tower is high and the twins have never had to think about what protections the old battlements of Hogwarts may have been imbued with, never stopped to wonder between their late night classes and flying overhead what would happen if someone were to fall from its height.

The Astronomy Tower is high and Harry stands on the edge to oblivion.

Fred's breath hitches and George stops just as Fred has, as they see him at the same time. The recognition of that back - one which's always been so small and burdened, was instantaneous. They'd know it anywhere. 'Harry!' George screams gutturally, lurching forward even as his feet remain planted. Harry's body tenses and Fred feels like he's swallowed his tongue, fear engulfing him as the situation they've stumbled onto dawns on him.

Dull green eyes blink at them through the rain as Harry turns cheek. His side profile with the paleness of his skin is in such contrast to the darkness of the night, that it makes it look like he's been cut out from the sky. 'Hi,' he whispers. His voice sends a shiver down Fred's spine because he and George have seen Harry through some of the hardest years of his life. He's always so resilient, but even at his worst, Harry's never sounded like this.

'Harry -'

'What -'

'Are you doing?' Fred finishes. What's happened? What's happened to finally bring Harry to this? His legs tremble, feet shuffling across the wet stone floor, without the courage to pick them up. Afraid that should he go forward, Harry would move backwards.

'Thinking,' Harry replies. It's so monotonous and flat and Fred hates it, hates that it isn't dryly amused or smug or fuming or - something, something other than despondent. Harry's always so colourful, even at his calmest; apathy just isn't something Fred associates with him.

'Well -' George flounders, unsure what to do but desperate to get Harry away from the ledge. 'We - we could, help -'

'Be your soundboard,' Fred encourages as Harry continues to stare at them so blankly it's unnatural.

'Anything you need,' George adds and Merlin it's raining, it's like standing in ice up here - they could see their breath. How long has Harry been out in this? With how moulded his clothes were to his body, Fred worries that it's been too long.

'Just - talk to us,' Fred insists as he helplessly reaches out with hands he fears are far too numb to support anything, never mind pull Harry away, to drag Harry to them. 'You know your secrets are safe with us.'

'Do I?' Harry muses impassively but it's sharper than before and Fred can't work out if that's a good thing or not. They've gotten used to Harry's ticks, the cues he gave away, mainly to avoid Harry's mammoth temper. It's emptied the common room more than once. Now, Fred couldn't tell with Harry acting so unlike himself. 'Do I know that?'

Fred feels sick but he can't falter here. 'Never betrayed a Potter, us -'

'Good at our word too,'

'Always believed in you,' Fred adds, hopeful that may mean something to Harry, that it may show them to be trustworthy if Harry was hesitating with loyalty now. Not one year had the twins stepped away from Harry's side even if they could have been more supportive, even if there was more that they could have done. They hadn't cared about the points or believed those stupid "Heir of Slytherin"rumours, they knew Harry hadn't put his name into the goblet and that he was right about Voldemort's return.

That must mean something, right?

Harry's face wavers. 'If some new plot against the school's cropped up -' George begins because who knows, right? A day in the life of Harry Potter; they'd been spectators for awhile now and something seems to crop up every year.

'Or something equally dastardly -'

'We'll help,' George swears as heartfelt as anyone can be.

'We aren't Ron and Hermione but - anything, Harry.' Though perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned them. It was obvious to any Gryffindor that there's a tension between the group, not that Fred can really blame Harry with how Ron behaved with the tournament. Neither of them had written to Harry over the hols, either, after Sirius died and the fall out of that hasn't truly healed. 'Truly, anything but -'

'We need your help -'

'To understand -'

'Because we're a bit lost.' Fred's heart's hammering against his chest as he watches Harry consider them in a way he never has before. Maybe they've taken for granted that Harry had felt save with them, the things he let them get away with in exasperation and good humour.

'What if…' Harry begins lowly, tempered to the point of tonelessness. 'What if it isn't a plot against the school?'

Fred could scream if he thought it would do any good. George's already biting his lip. 'It doesn't matter,' Fred insists urgently. 'Whatever if is, you've got us.'

'No matter what,' George promises, hoarsely.

Harry blinks slow, and Fred hates not being able to tell if the water droplets clinging to Harry's eyes aren't tears or the rain. 'What about Dumbledore?'

'Screw Dumbledore!' George snaps. Fred, with his heart thundering in his chest and a brother on the line - on the edge of a tower cannot possibly disagree. 'And the papers and Fudge and the Ministry.'

'This is probably a big ask,' Fred finds himself saying, lips numb. 'But just -'

'Trust us,' George implores.

Harry looks between them, seeming impossibly young and too old with the responsibility that the life he's grown into has given him. Fred's used to Harry always looking just old enough, if you didn't think about it. If you instead remembered the stories of Harry Potter growing up, of the boy living one big adventure, pulled straight out of fantasy with a narrative always written in his favour.

This wasn't that Harry Potter; the Harry they knew is short and underfed with holes in his clothes and eyes that have seen too much, that are constantly looking. Harry who just wanted to go to school and have friends and not have to live up to the expectations of a world who thought they knew Harry, while still reimagining him as a hero.

This Harry - this Harry has been pushed and pulled; played dress-up for people who never appreciates it, headed a cause he's never signed up for. This Harry is on a ledge.

This Harry fell.

Fred springs up from his mattress, gasping like he'd just finished a seven hour game of Quidditch. His eyes jump frantically around, drowning in shadows and the image of Harry tilting backwards to somewhere he couldn't follow. It haunts him enough to fuel several boggarts.

Fred almost jumps out of his skin when hands grab hold of him, gentle but firm. A yell on the edge of his tongue that he doesn't quite have the air to produce. 'Fred,' George whispers urgently into the dark. 'Fred, it's okay.'

'Okay?' Fred repeats incredulously. Moonlight's steaming in through the window and it's just enough for him to be able to make out George's eyes, glowing sliver and soft and wet in moonbeams. 'Okay?'

'It was a dream,' George states because they've never truly had to tell one another anything, not even this. 'It was a dream. He's fine,' George adds with a tilt to the side. A movement Fred follows to the bed opposite them, to the lump that was Harry, curled under his duvet.

A nightmare, Fred thinks tensely for a moment as he drinks in the sight of his friend, before even that is ruined with the melancholy of Harry's anxious form, even in slumber. Fred breathes out quietly and flops back down, head hitting his damp pillow harshly. He ignores how the back of his skull thumps in protest. He throws an arm over his face, tries to inhale again as George furled further into his side despite how hot it already was.

Fred swallows as he remembers Harry and that encounter, recalling it again in terrible detail. Harry and how he trembled, but also how he hadn't fallen. Who they'd talked down; somehow, by some miracle, grasped hold of and was able to tug towards them and made talk. Harry who they'd then skedaddled with, without so much a word to anyone. They'd flown away and when they'd reached Diagon, found some place to stay.

Right, Fred thinks as he is forced to listen to the pounding of his chest. Harry's - fine. "Fine". Alive is probably more accurate, but he would be.

They'd make sure of that. They stay here, in the B&B overnight, and further travel wouldn't even put a dent into the money Harry had given them; they'd be able to get Harry where he needs to go if they are careful. They'd make it and if they're caught, well...

Fred Weasley's got a very good argument prepared for "kidnapping" Harry Potter, though he doesn't think the Wizengamot would find it all that convincing. George wouldn't care all that much for reasoning - he'd be too busy being angry, and would be more likely to spit in the Head Warlock's face then justify doing the right thing in recusing their pseudo-brother.

'We'll have to leave early tomorrow, today...' Fred states wearily though just the thought of getting up was enough to make him tired. Not helped by the knowledge that he's unlikely to get to sleep again after that nightmare and it would be his last chance .

'Getting him out of the country's going to be difficult,' George growls softly, a deep rumble that vibrated through Fred's chest. He's just glad that Harry had fallen into exhaustion, out like a light as soon as his head touched the pillow. Emotionally he's spent, though Fred feels guilty about being so relieved that he hadn't had to see anymore tears.

'Once those potions burn out of his blood it'll be easier,' Fred responds with far more patience. Between them, he's got the better temper though he isn't in much mind to restrain his twin. Things had gone far beyond schoolyard bullying and the bigotry that Harry's commonly suffered through Hogwarts, which was already worse than they knew how to deal with. Retaliatory pranks just weren't going to cut it this time.

'He still won't have any papers,' George grits out as he clenches and unclenches his hands in Fred's shirt. Few things ruffle them which probably had a lot to do with how they were brought up; disappearing into the background of their other siblings, watching the repercussions of a war that wasn't dealt with, which'd been buried and covered up because everyone would much rather pretend it'd never happened.

'We stay quiet enough and that won't matter too much.' Fred sighs as he reluctantly thinks about stowing away to Japan of all places. It was further than would be ideal but nothing about this situation is simple, so why make the destination easily attainable? Anywhere in Europe would be preferable. If they made a mistake and got caught in Asia it'd be a huge mess of legalities, at least with the European Alliance of Magic, they were allowed to travel to other European countries without documentation.

They're quiet again, they were often quiet in each other's company and it's usually because they didn't need words to communicate with each other. Tonight, it's because the shock's still bubbling in their stomachs like a potion ready to explode and they were both unsettled by what they'd learnt, from what they'd seen.

'…we just need to get this right,' George whispers as his hands curl into tighter fists around the duvet. The skin under his eyes are tight and his mouth is grim, and he's no doubt envisaging Harry standing on that ledge. 'We can't - fail.'

Fred swallows around the tightness of his throat, rather that be from nausea or tears he isn't sure. It's been a long draining day - month, year. Whichever. How they'd ever managed to talk Harry down - Fred didn't know. He felt honoured that Harry had taken his hand, that Harry had allowed them to help but it's also terrifying. He can still feel it: grasping hold of Harry's thin wrist, hearing his heart against the buds of Fred's fingers.

The doubt of somehow failing this task they'd been given, and putting Harry back on that ledge - of not being able to talk him out of it again, set heavily on Fred's shoulders. They owed Harry a lot, not only because he'd saved their little sister, age twelve and nearly died in the process. He's been a good friend to them - was a good person, and deserves a heck of a lot better than what his life had been so far.

'We won't,' Fred says with as much conviction as he can muster. 'We don't have a choice.'

He's never seen Harry cry before, but Ron had said - mentioned just the once, that it was quiet and hidden when it happened. Fred believed it, didn't think Harry had ever had anyone who cared for his tears before. Fred didn't care much for them either, though that was because he wanted Harry happy, not because it was a bother.

'Goblins,' Harry had said between sobs, trembling between them where they had fallen to the ground in one large huddle, and it was cold and wet but none of them could move, 'Goblins contracted me and I thought - I thought it was about Sirius.'

'What did they want?' George asked, probably ready to go start another Goblin war if it turned that all of this was their fault. Fred wasn't feeling all that magnanimous either.

'Nothing. Nothing, he was just - just a proxy.' Harry's voice was thready and failing him and maybe it was worse than the emotionless thing the twin's had gotten before. It was hard to decide. 'I've - I've got family. Family that's alive.'

'...what?' Fred said weakly, hands numb with shock and terror attempt to curl tighter around the arm he was grasping. Harry's trembling and he's didn't think it was from the cold.

'I have family. Family that - and Koenma - the proxy - he had all this documentation and a - a family tree. Like the one Sirius' had on the wall and...and everything's wrong. There's just the Durleys'. Dumbledore said that the Durleys' were the only ones left.' Tears pour down Harry's cheeks, like a flood from a broken dam, washed away from the rain.

'…I'm gonna kill him,' George mutters into Fred's shirt and it's probably dirty; they didn't stick around to collect their things from the dorms. Harry hadn't been in any state too and with all the pranks the twins had played recently, they couldn't risk getting caught up with a teacher.

'No,' Fred says, tasting something acidic on his tongue as he does so. 'No you're not.'

'I will,' George insists with the worst of their fire. Fire that burnt too hot sometimes. fire that had them crossing lines they knew were in the sand. Fred has a calmer had but not always.

'No,' Fred repeats, feeling tired and empty. 'Harry wouldn't want you to.'

George sharply inhales and for a moment he's quiet. 'He should.'

Fred almost laughs but it's too choked, too raw. 'Wouldn't be Harry otherwise.'

Harry had books written about him where he's portrayed as a white knight from tales of old, in reality he was different; the only thing that really remained the same was that he's a hero. Remarkably kind and sometimes too gentle.

'Who - Who's Koenma?' Fred asked as he desperately tried to get his heart under control, calm its frantic beating.

'Koenma - he's…the son of the ruler of the Spirit World,' Harry had said.'He said...'

'He said what?' George prompted while ignoring the more fantastical element of what they were being told. It just wasn't that important, not with the actual focus of this story.

Harry took a breath. 'He said a lot. He...' Harry laughed and it wasn't a nice sound. 'A brother. I have a brother and my brother - he works for Koenma. I have a brother.' Every repetition becomes just a little more hysterical like the emotions are rushing back into him and they don't all quite fit.

George attempts to make calming sounds from a throat too sore and Fred rubs up and down Harry's spine with a hand he can't feel. 'So? How's this fit in?' Fred questioned to try to understand this.

'Koenma ran this - this background check and he…found me, and it got him to track me down.' Harry wavers though he'd been rushing his words, chews on his lip something vicious. 'My...Y-Yusuke, he - he doesn't or...he didn't know about me either.'

Fred had blanked at the name, so foreign sounding and odd. 'And...you know that...' that this is real?

Harry shudders.'I - I stormed off for a bit. Talked to the Goblins. They had a lot to say after I…'

'After what?' Fred asked in fear that Harry had done something stupid.

'Bribed them,' Harry admitted and Fred almost had it in him to laugh at that, 'but it's true. It's true. I have family.'

Fred thinks the astonished, hopeful "I have family," will come to be just another tragic thing he'll come to associate with Harry. It wasn't as tragic as the other collected anecdotes Fred had stored away, but it certainly wasn't as happy as it should be.

'I have family and they were hidden from me, they were - Dumbledore knew. The papers - he signed off on sending my brother half-way around the round and didn't tell me, even after - even after -' Harry sobs then, strangled like the sound was too large for his throat.

'Breathe, Harry. Breathe,' Fred reminded and it barely helped but Harry obeyed with wide eyes that gleamed so wetly. One breath, two, three, four in. Out. In.

'Even after Dumbledore promised. He promised, that he'd tell me the truth and I thought he had when he told me about the prophecy, and all this time...' Harry trailed off and slumped further forward.

'Prophecy?' Prophecies were bad news; complicated, old magic that loomed over those involved in one. They'd speak of sacrifices and tragedy and told of great change. No one would sense wanted to be named in a prophecy.

Harry nodded shakily and whispered 'Voldemort,' and it was enough for Fred to understand, for him to catch on as he shared a look with George over Harry's head as terror once again clenches his gut, 'I'm the one that has to defeat Voldemort. It's - it's why my parents are dead.'

'Hey,' George soothed chidingly, 'your parents were fighters, like you are; they'd have been involved regardless.'

Harry bit into his lip and doesn't respond, doesn't believe.

'Okay,' Fred said.

'What do you want to do, then?' George continued.

Harry looked up at them with wide eyes and by Merlin that had hurt.

'I can't just -'

'George,' Fred interrupts as his heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest, 'whatever's going on, we'll find out more, once we're in Japan. This Koenma guy told Harry he'd meet him there; would know when Harry arrived and we'll…' Fred pauses uncertainly, 'but we're not gonna be stupid because Dumbledore wouldn't have just done this.'

'You're not excusing it,' George states because he knew better, but also because Fred hadn't worded that the best.

'Merlin no,' Fred says, 'but there's more going on than we know and we have to be smart. I didn't even know that the Potter's had a branch out in Japan, that Dumbledore would…there's a reason and choose there to send Yusuke...'

'They're an old family,' George states.

'Yeah, all the more fucked up this is.'

'Agreed.'

'Lines like Harry's are protected. Twins aren't - they aren't meant to be separated.' Things that George knew but some things Fred just wanted to give a voice to. '…if Sirius was still alive…'

George sighs after a moments pause. 'It probably has something to do with Voldy; that stupid prophecy.'

Fred feels himself smile, it is bitter, caustic. 'When hasn't it been?' Sounds like Harry's whole life had revolved around this.

'We'll work it out.'

'Right,' Fred agrees.

'And then I'm punching him in the face.'

'How muggle,' Fred comments without care. There was a certain catharsis to just - hitting a problem, took out the middleman. It wasn't a sentiment shared but they're progressive.

'Harry's rubbed off on me.'

Little bruiser, was Harry. All this magic, and yet sometimes he forgets he has a wand. Came from a lifetime without it but still having to defend himself, Fred knows. It wasn't hard to guess. No one's as defensive as Harry without a reason.

'It's just...'

'Hard to swallow,' Fred finishes in understanding.

'…Dumbledore...'

'After Voldy attacked, Harry was "marked as his equal" and - and Dumbledore -'

'He, got rid of -'

'A distraction?' Fred suggests as his stomach turned. 'Sent the brother off to Japan, left Harry here, where he had to be to play hero without anyone to get in the way?' It was a guess, a presumption but Dumbledore - despite how grandfatherly he may present himself as - was a leader, he'd won a war already and there was a harder side to the man, Fred could see it sometimes and now it's all he could see.

'…we're getting Harry to Japan, out of England,' George states finally, venom in his tone because he's being made to take theories under consideration he'd much rather disbelieve on the principle of not wanting to.

'No arguments here.'

'..Mum's gonna kill us when we get back.'

'Probably,' Fred replies dryly and although he has a healthy fear of his mother, he found himself caring very little about it. It just - wasn't as important. She'd either understand or she wouldn't.

'Forge?'

'Yeah, Gred?'

'Do you think that Harry…?'

'You think he knows?' Fred finishes for him.

'You think he knows why?'

Fred kisses his teeth. 'Thing about Harry,' he finds himself saying, 'is that he's been at this whole hero-ing business a long time.'

'Yeah,' George agrees quietly.

'It's probably one of the first things that went through his head.' Fred didn't think they had all the answers yet and with how much they'd all already gone through, it likely wasn't going to surprise them but Harry's good with people. He could work them out instinctively; thought like an auror too, it's how he'd risen to every challenge thrown his way. He'd have figured something similar, it's just the way he worked.

George sighs. 'I wish this Koenma could have got us there.'

Fred huffs. 'That would have been too easy.'

'Can't have that,' George says sarcastically.

Fred thinks of Harry's face, how he'd just collapsed into bed, refused anything to eat and instead fell right into sleep. 'The sooner the better,' he murmurs.

'You think this brother will be like him?'

'Maybe,' Fred considers. 'Hopefully not too much.'

'One's enough,' George agrees.

'Two would be a lot of trouble,' Fred adds.

'We'll know soon enough.'

'Yeah…we will.'

Con/Textual Vomit: No idea if anyone will want to read this one. The plot bunny came and bit me and - yeah. Stuff will be explained in the next chapter. After I've had sleep, preferably. I'm worried this has come across as really contrived and convoluted but I promise thought has gone into this and - I need sleep. I need os much sleep. Imma leave this here. Hopefully someone will like it.

OZ

(Updated: 15/11/18)