Here we go again folks! I'll try and get the remaining chapters up as quickly as possible - its just a matter of sorting them all out. It might interest you to know that this story has been posted up on Adult fanfiction and any raunchy scenes can be found there. If anyone has any queries on how to find the site please do not hesitate to contact me.
Yes you guessed it this IS Eowyns elixure I am not stealing somebody else's fic or anything like that. I was ripped of the site for song lyrics! I ask you, song lyrics! What cheeses!
Disclaimer:Know I still don't own the luciouse duo...sob!
Anyway Enjoy!
The sweats running down my forehead and dripping into my eyes. The sun beats hotly upon my back and the wind stirs not once against my cheeks.
Bill looks down to me and gives me the thumbs up sign as he continues to lay the demolition spells up above me.
I smile weakly and continue to hack away at the sand stone with my pickaxe.
Six months… six painful months in which I have been lonelier than I've ever felt before- and it's all his fault.
Yes his fault when I turn, expecting to see his smiling face beside me, his fault when I turn to make a joke- to the empty air.
So six months it has been with me toiling away in Egypt with Bill and him, unbeknownst to me until after I arrived here… toiling away in gringots bank… in London.
So here I am the day before I take my first six-week break. The day before I return home to drag some answers out of my wayward twin!
The next day I gathered my luggage together and followed the miner goblin to the port gate.
Miner goblins are creature's gringots employ to restore tombs and mine 'treasure' or in more sensible terms- lost gold. They were almost exactly the same as the ones employed in Gringots except they had a great love of darkness and you could say building but really they were exceptional at creating and digging tunnels.
The 'port gate' was really a larger version of a port key except you didn't need to touch it to travel and it was a lot safer. You also didn't have the bother of sending it back when you'd reached your destination. Ours was a prototype and easy for transporting large numbers of people, soon I reckoned it would be used worldwide.
I arrived at the spot where it was and the miner goblin bowed and left me.
A tiny man sitting beside the gate held up his hand to me. He didn't look at me whilst twisting a knob on the gate that seemed to change the frequency.
The space between the legs of the arch of the gate looked like a fuzzy television and every time the little man twisted the knob the sound went from higher to lower and vice versa.
He gave it one last adjustment and then looked up at me through his thick goggles that looked like the bottoms of bell jars and made him look like some kind of swamp monster.
Six months earlier I would of pulled a prank of some kind or at the very least cracked a joke of some kind. Not anymore.
"Ahh Mr Weasley junior, you'll be wanting the London channel of course! Err…now where did I put those…here a minute ago."
A woman sitting at an office desk next to the gate (even though they were outside) handed him a batch of numbers on yellowing parchments.
Shuffling through them the man came up with a pair of red nines.
"Aha here we are, but aren't there meant to be two of you?"
"There were, but something delayed my brother from coming." I said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, well no matter here's your number, go and wait over there for ten minutes please."
I turn and go and sit down on one of the arranged logs. These were put there I assumed for people to wait on as sitting on the ground could be incredibly dangerous owing to scorpions, sand snakes and other such hazardous creatures. The sand could also get extremely hot and know one wants to place their rear on that in the heat of the day.
I watched as the tiny man counted down the seconds on his watch and quite suddenly the sign on top of the gate that read 'Spain: Costa dell sol' changed to 'France: Dordogne' and the man yelled out,
"Numbers four, eighteen and twenty seven please!"
Three men stood and with their luggage stepped forward and one by one they past through the gate leaving the numbers with the woman.
Not long after the sign changed again and my thoughts drifted. Obviously the records still held Georges name explaining why there had been two number nines instead of one and-
The sign suddenly changed to 'British Isles: Ottery saint catchpole' and the tiny man yelled out "Number nine!"
Gathering my luggage I walked to the gate and gave over my number. Then turning to the gate I paused, before stepping into the fuzziness.
The first thing I felt, was a tingling, almost an itchiness coursing through my body and then a wave of nausea as I was pulled sickeningly forward at a terrifying speed seeing only darkness as I plummeted out through a gate in the sky over Britain and landed just outside the house with surprising gentleness.
Once again gathering my scattered luggage I walked in through the rusty gate and up the garden path.
Knocking softly on the door it was a minute before it was flung open and I engulfed in a perfumed hug.
"Fred oh my is it really you? Oh how you've grown!"
Stepping back my mother ushered me in and sat me down on a kitchen chair.
We nattered cosily for a couple of minutes before I ventured to ask the question I had been dying to since I arrived.
"Is… is George here?"
My mother looked at me with barely concealed sympathy.
"Yes dear, he's upstairs and no I haven't told him you're here"
Assuring her that I was fine and that I was going up to settle in I lugged my heavy trunk upstairs and stopped outside a familiar door.
Leaving the trunk outside I quietly opened the door and went in leaning against the other side of the door as I shut it.
There was my brother, my twin…my forbidden love.
And he was packing!