Rating:
PG-13
House:
Riddikulus
Characters:
Fred Weasley George Weasley
Genres:
Humor Parody
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 04/03/2003
Updated: 06/06/2003
Words: 4,822
Chapters: 3
Hits: 2,686

Squicktastic!

Altaria Volante

Story Summary:
The Author is hired to write a romance starring Fred and George, but when the 'ships get out of control, the boys demand some creative input. “We’ll make you a deal,” Fred started. “You write what you think she’d like... and we’ll only stop you if we get uncomfortable.” -- Famous last words...

Chapter 01

Chapter Summary:
The Author is hired to write a romance starring Fred and George, but when the 'ships get out of control, the boys demand some creative input.
Posted:
04/03/2003
Hits:
1,773
Author's Note:
This is intended in no way to insult anyone who might happen to enjoy these pairings; however, to the general public they are well deserving of the illustrious title


Chapter 1: Characters Will Bite if Provoked

It was a dark and stormy night outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but inside, candles and lanterns provided warmth for her students. But that wasn't the only warmth being provided. High in the Gryffindor tower, the seventh year dorm room was alight with the burning passion of two stunning ginger-haired Adoni.

"Who the bloody hell are you calling 'Adoni'?"

"And what do you mean by 'passion'?"

"I don't like where this is headed, George..."

"Maybe she'll at least put the Gryffie chasers in here... growl..."

Alright, look, someone asked me to write something smutty and they wanted you two in it.

George snickered. "Bloody hell. Who did they want us with? Angelina? Katie? Hermione?"

"Hey, at least it's not Ginny," Fred added.

Well, guys... She wanted it with you two.

"SWEET MERLIN!" Fred yelled. "They want TWINCEST!"

George shook his head. "Nope, sorry. We don't swing like that."

You don't have a choice. I'm the Author. My pen controls your destiny.

"You type on a computer or other word processing device," George pointed out.

Shut up.

Fred sat down on his bed and leaned back. "You seem like you could use some help... cause, if you try to write us as twincest, we'll screw up this fic so fast that it'll make your whizzes whirl."

You wouldn't dare.

"You watch us," George laughed. "Can you honestly think of anything that we wouldn't be capable and willing to do, short of death or permanent dismemberment, to save our own hides and get a good laugh?"

Well... no...

"Case in point!" Fred exclaimed. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and grinned stupidly. "So, now that we've established that we're not doing the, uh..." He turned to George. "I need a blatant Americanism for the Author." George paused long enough to retrieve a sheet of parchment from the desk and an ink quill. He scribbled a quick word or two and slipped the sheet to Fred. "Ah, brilliant," Fred replied, before staring up at the ambiguous Author again. "We're not doing the nookie nookie for your bookie bookie."

The nookie nookie...

Fred and George exchanged a quick glance before breaking into roaring laughter. "We've stunned the American!" Fred exclaimed.

"Hallelujah Brother Fred!"

"Hallelujah Brother George!"

Excuse me. If you wouldn't mind, I really need to get this story done. My friend wants it by the end of the night. I kinda promised it to her.

Fred and George coughed slightly to try and regain their composure. "Alright, understandable," George finally answered.

"We'll make you a deal," Fred started. "You write what you think she'd like... and we'll only stop you if we get uncomfortable."

Um, out of the list she gave me, this might get a little bit squicky...

George raised an eyebrow curiously. "Squicky?"

Yeah, it's a fanon term. It means, um, discomforting?

"You misunderestimate us," Fred answered, grinning broadly. He paused before breaking out into raucous laughter once again. "Blatant Americanism! We gotcha again!"

That's not a blatant Americanism.

"Well it's not British, so it's good enough!" George howled.

Can you guys be serious for even a minute?

The twins paused.

Sorry, forgot who I was writing. Well, we might as well get started. I'll start going through her list and we'll see what we can do. You just have to promise to give it a chance. Alright?

"Sure, why not," Fred shrugged.

"We've got nothing else planned for tonight," George supplied.

***

George sat on his little sister's bed. It hurt him so much to see her in so much pain. After what had happened last year in the Chamber, she had withdrawn into herself. She'd made a point to not get too close to people - even her family. But George knew better. He remembered the happy little girl that Ginny had always been. He remembered the girl who innocently chased garden gnomes with them. The one who loved her stuffed dragons that Charlie sent for birthdays and Christmases.

How sad he was to see that little girl go.

"Ginny," he whispered quietly. "You can't just stay holed up in your room."

"You don't understand!" she wailed. "None of you understand! You weren't used like I was." Ginny shot up from her spot on the pillow, her face stained with tears that had fallen and her eyes swollen from tears that still threatened.

George sighed, placing a hand on his little sister's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Ginny. No one blames you. You can't continue to blame yourself."

She sniffed back her tears unsuccessfully. "But... I see the way that you all look at me. The way that Hermione looks at me. I petrified her!" she exclaimed. "Don't you understand?"

"You didn't petrify her."

"It was close enough. I let him out."

"He controlled you, Ginny," George added, leaning in closer.

Ginny's eyes went wide... and hopeful. "Do you really mean that?"

George nodded slowly. He couldn't seem to pull away from her innocent stare. Her eyes sparkling with unshed tears... her ginger hair strewn haphazardly across her face. "You don't know how much that means to me... George."

"I could never do anything that would make you unhappy or make you cry... Ginny," he responded, placing a tender, loving hand against her cheek. He absently wiped a small tear as it fell. "Why are you crying again, Ginny?" he asked quietly.

"I...I can't help it," she answered quietly. "I was never sure how you felt... you and Fred are always so..."

"Troublesome?" George laughed.

Ginny laughed and nodded. "Yes, troublesome. But you're oh so much fun."

"Anything to make you smile, Ginny m'dear," he replied.

Tears started to fall down her cheeks yet again. "George... could I ask you to do something for me?"

"Yeah," George replied. "You know I'd do anything for ya, little sister."

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "Would you give me a kiss?"

George smiled. "Of course." He leaned forward and pecked his little sister on her forehead. "Do you feel better now?"

"That's not what I meant." Ginny's voice had become huskier.

George paused. "Uh... what did you mean?"

Ginny threw herself into George's lap. "You're a man, and I'm only a woman, George!" she wailed. "Show me that you love me!"

George paled. "Can I get you a stuffed animal? Chocolate frogs? Wand wax?..."

Ginny giggled. "No... silly. Treat me like the woman I am! I want you to kiss me! Kiss me, George!"

George yelped and threw his sister out of his lap. "SQUICKY!" he screamed before pointing an accusatory finger up in the air. "You! Now that's just wrong!"

What? That was another one on the list.

"Sweet Merlin!" George wimpered, continuously wiping his hands against his robes like they were dirty. "She's my baby sister! And she's only 12!"

People enjoy that. Well, they prefer Ron but I had already promised I'd use you and Fred in the story.

"You get me out of this storyline right this instant!" George screamed.

Fine, fine. Whatever. Lemme go down the list again.

"Use Fred next time."

Fine.