Hermafrosts

8:15 am

George hurried through the shop to the workroom and burst through the door, remembering only after it had opened that it wasn't supposed to open for him at all. "Fr-" He stopped short as he took in the sight in the room, and Lee almost walked into him.

"What-"

George made a chopping motion and Lee stilled immediately.

They were lying together on Fred's camp bed, facing the door, Fred spooned up behind her, one arm over her waist and one of Angelina's hands over his. They looked peaceful, serene, the blanket drawn down a bit, exposing one of Angelina's small breasts.

George started to back out slowly, moving Lee with him. Fred's eyes blinked open and met George's, and they gazed at each other for a moment. George gently pushed Lee out the door with him, closing the door behind them, and as it shut he could see Fred close his eyes again and nestle his face against Angelina's neck, holding her closely.

Lee cleared his throat. "Well."

"Yeah."

"Won't be needing the antidote, then."

"Not anytime soon, no."

They stood staring at the floor for a moment.

"Well," Lee finally said. "It's eight o'clock and the shop opens at nine. What else did you have planned to do?"

George blinked a bit. "Erm. Inventory's done. Books balanced..."

"Free time, then?"

"Not really. We're supposed to be going home for Easter. I was going to, erm, replenish some of the stock, in the workroom, but..."

"Yeah, no, best not," said Lee quickly.

"We'll just have to come back to do some work over the weekend. Mum'll be thrilled."

"So... erm... d'you want to help me with the Potterwatch material? Fred was going to, but."

George nodded, wondering how much of the disconnection he felt right now was due to sleeplessness, and how much to what he and Lee had just seen. "Yeah. May as well."

Lee took out his papers.

"Who's going to be there?" George asked. "Remus?"

"Yeah," said Lee. "Dunno how you did it, but thanks for getting in touch with him. We really needed him. Not just for the broadcast - though there's quite a few kids who remember his voice, so that's always nice - but he's bloody good at gathering information."

"You've Kingsley on too this time? Blimey, I can't believe you know how to get in contact with him. The Ministry would give anything to find him."

"State secret, mate. I'd tell you if I-"

"No, bloody hell, I don't want you to tell me. What I don't know, I can't tell. I mean, we've got all sorts of safeties in place in case we need to go to ground fast, but I don't particularly want to chance what might happen if they don't work."

Lee looked over his interview notes. He glanced back at the workroom. "So d'you think they, erm..."

"They did," said George shortly.

"I see."

"Yeah."

"Could it have worn off on its own?" Lee asked.

"Oh yeah, sure. And then after it wore off, they decided to go to bed together starkers." He shook his head. "No, they did it. It's the only way they would've been able to go to sleep."

"Both of them?"

"Yeah, both of them."

"Well. That's, erm, unusual."

George sniggered. "Not around here it's not."

8:45 am

"Morning." Angelina heard a soft voice in her ear and opened her eyes. She had a moment's total disorientation at the unfamiliar surroundings.

The workroom. Wheezes. Fred.

She sighed and clasped his arm around her. "You're awake."

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"A while," he said, and pressed a kiss to her neck. "Wanted to let you sleep, but... the shop's got to open in fifteen minutes. We're going to have to get up." He sounded regretful.

"All right." She let herself bask in his closeness for a minute, then stretched, yawned, and sat up.

"Oi, do that again," Fred said with chuckle, and she turned around. He smiled appreciatively. "You know, I don't know what they've got in the water out on the Isle, but it's good for you."

She ran her eyes over him, his body marked with many small scars from Quidditch and testing all of his insane products on himself, and wished he weren't about to cover up again.

"Could I get some breakfast?" she asked, and was amused as he didn't seem to register her question. "Fred?"

"Sorry, what?" He blinked. "I know you just said something, but there were these lovely breasts, you see, so..."

She laughed. "Breakfast. I'm hungry. We can leave the workroom now, I take it?"

"Oh yeah. Like I said, the lock came off last night."

"Yeah, but last night I didn't have to leave," she said. "Now..."

Fred nodded, and reached down for their clothing, handing hers to her and not bothering to hide his disappointment as she pulled it on. He got dressed and went to the door. "Ready?"

"Ready." She stopped him as he was about to open the door. "I..."

"Yeah." He drew her close and she moved into his arms, tilting her head back for one last kiss, closing her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to memorize the feel of his lips and the scent of his skin...

He ended their kiss, and she pulled back reluctantly. She cleared her throat and straightened herself out as he opened the door, and they walked out into the shop.

"Breakfast?" George said nonchalantly as they left the workroom, and Angelina blushed.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, and took a piece of toast. Fred took another and went to the cashbox, opening it up.

"Lee, you stayed the night too?"

"Yeah, upstairs."

George cleared his throat. "Look, I'm really sorry about-"

"'S all right," Angelina said, and Fred nodded casually.

"No lasting harm done," he said quietly. "Any tea left?"

"Saved some for you," Lee said, nodding towards the counter.

"Going back to the Isle?" George asked Angelina.

"Yeah. Should probably send my mum and dad a message."

"Yeah, don't use our Floo, though. It's watched."

Angelina nodded, and George finished his toast.

"Still doing Potterwatch with me this weekend?" Lee asked Fred.

"Yeah, though I can't stay away too long," he said. "Mum'll have a fit."

"Ginny'll be home for Easter, then?" asked Lee.

"Yeah," George said. "We'll be leaving Verity in charge here over most of the weekend. She'll probably go mental, but Mum would murder us if we didn't go home. It'll be nice to see Ginny again, too."

"Does your mum know that Ron was back for a while?" asked Angelina curiously.

"No, bloody hell. That would've set her off for months," George said. "She's so set on all of us being together as much as possible, she would've wanted him at the Burrow."

"You two would've killed him, though," she said, finishing off her toast.

"Yeah, if Ginny didn't do him in first," George said.

Fred shrugged. "Bill said he'd been kicking himself for leaving since about a minute after he left. Still."

"Speaking of Ron," George said, and doused a small orange and maroon candle burning in a niche on the wall.

"What's that? Another experiment?" Angelina asked.

Fred shook his head. "Dad brought it."

"Your Dad's got experiments here?"

"It's just a candle. One of our Everlasts, actually. It's for Ron. Mum and Dad have another at home. We light it every night and put it out in the morning."

Angelina blinked.

"Mum got another one for Harry," George went on. "And one for Hermione. But of course we can't have them where anybody'll see them."

"Everybody knows Ron's supposedly sick," said Fred, "but Harry and Hermione are on the run and wanted for questioning-"

"-so we had to find a place for them," George said. "And it sort of grew from there."

Lee pressed a small depression in the wall next to the niche, and a small cupboard door appeared in the wall. He opened it and Angelina gasped. The cupboard was actually a large niche, with over a hundred small candles arranged in three tiers, burning, their lights flickering on the walls.

"Who are these for?"

George passed his wand over a black candle with a bolt of lightning on the side, and a light brown one with books worked into the design. A name appeared over each candle as the wand passed over it.

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Fred passed his wand over a brown candle with small megaphones drawn in, and another dark one with Quaffles.

Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson

Another candle had a wolf's head on the side.

Remus Lupin

"These are all people who are missing?" Angelina said, awed, staring at the huge array of candles. "Or in hiding?"

"They're in three groups," Lee said. "The top tier has people like us. The middle tier is people in danger." He passed his wand over a few of the candles.

Neville Longbottom, Colin Creevey, Dennis Creevey, Rubeus Hagrid

"Where are the Creeveys?" Angelina asked.

"At Hogwarts, with fake papers," said Lee. "Hence the danger."

"And the bottom tier?" Angelina asked, gazing at the largest grouping, which contained dozens of nondescript white candles as well.

Fred passed his wand over a candle with a bright blue spot on the side, and a tawny-coloured one with grey streaks.

Mad-Eye Moody, Rufus Scrimgeour, Charity Burbage, Cedric Diggory

"George?" Lee said quietly, and George passed his wand over part of the "missing or in hiding" group.

Luna Lovegood, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mary Granger, Wayne Granger, Dean Thomas, Dirk Cresswell, Ted Tonks, Gornuk, Griphook, Florian Fortescue

Lee carefully picked up the candles for Dirk Cresswell, Ted Tonks, and Gornuk, and put them near Mad-Eye's candle. He moved Hagrid's candle - a large black one, with fangs - from the "danger" to the "in hiding" tier, and Fred put the candle he'd made last night, with the Hogwarts castle on it, next to Ted Tonks'.

Angelina's throat tightened. George and Lee took out a few more plain white candles, and Fred passed his wand over them, murmuring some words, as they were set down on the bottom tier as well. Angelina passed her wand over them, puzzled when nothing happened.

"The naming spell only works for our wands - mine, Lee's and George's," Fred said. "And it wouldn't help with the white ones anyway; we don't know their names. It's a family of five Muggles, killed by Death Eaters in Gaddley this week. Lee told us about them yesterday before you got here. The one with the Hogwarts castle is Bathilda Bagshot." He handed her his wand and she took it, passing it over the candles in the middle tier.

Arabella Figg, Millicent Bulstrode

"Wasn't she on the Inquisitorial Squad?" Angelina asked. "Slytherin?"

Lee nodded. "Her mother was Muggle-born," he said. "Arrested three months ago, hasn't been heard from since. Millie's been at the Ministry every day, trying to get information on her, but... she's scared. Doesn't know how long she's got before the Ministry decides to take her too, just to shut her up."

Angelina nodded, passing Fred's wand over some of the other candles.

Cho Chang, Michael Corner, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Katie Bell

"You've got every member of the DA here," she said, swallowing past the ache in her throat.

Fred nodded. "We weren't sure about including Smith, remember him? The Hufflepuff prat. But we figured we'd give him the benefit of the doubt."

Angelina nodded, drawing in her breath as Fred's wand showed more names. Arthur Weasley, said one orange candle with plugs in the design. Molly Weasley, with a green and blue jumper. Charlie Weasley, his candle's fire spitting and smoking a little more fiercely than the others. Ginny Weasley, with a ruby-hilted sword. Bill Weasley, Fleur Weasley - the only Weasley candle that wasn't orange, hers was a soft, glowing silvery white. Fred Weasley, George Weasley, bright orange with shocking magenta around the edges, emitting sparks every so often. She moved the wand again, blinked back tears. Percy Weasley, a Head Boy badge on the side of his candle. "Your entire family."

"All of us," said George quietly.

She swallowed hard. "I... I didn't know."

"Yeah. Well. Dark times." Fred gave her a small smile. "You take or make light wherever you can."

9:30 am

The shop was open, business was starting to pick up, and it was time to rejoin reality. Lee had already left, avoiding most of the Diagon Alley crowd. Angelina stopped at the front of the shop, gazing at Fred while he counted money at the till.

"Suppose I'd better go before there're too many people around," she said.

"Yeah." He finished counting up, and closed the till. "You'll be all right?"

"Yeah."

"Won't take any foolish chances? Bloody hell I cannot believe I keep saying that," he said ruefully.

"I won't."

"Right, then."

She hesitated, then bridged the distance between them, intending for her kiss to be casual, but somehow they ended up embracing passionately. She pulled back reluctantly, bothered that he was looking down, not meeting her eyes.

"You've still got your DA Galleon, right?" he asked her.

"Yeah, at home."

"Keep it on you."

"I will. You write to me, all right? If you can? Let me know how George's new line works out."

"I'll send you samples," he said seriously.

"Do that and I'll send you a Howler," she shot back, smiling. She gazed at him for another long moment, then took a deep breath, and Apparated out.

10:30 pm

Fred was still too quiet, thought George that night in their room at The Burrow. Reading through a supply contract, making markings in the margin. And damn it, he'd moped about long enough.

"Listen... are you all right?" he asked, feeling awkward. Fred glanced up at him.

"What?"

"You look ruddy awful, mate," he said. "Even Mum noticed."

"Didn't sleep much last night."

George gave him an "oh please" look and pulled up a chair, propping his elbows on Fred's desk.

Fred shrugged uncomfortably. "'M fine."

"So what... what happened?" Fred looked up. "Last night."

Fred looked back down. "You know what happened," he muttered.

"Was it... are you all right about it?"

"What's to not be all right about?" he said dryly. "I got to shag Angelina Johnson. More than once. Not exactly a hardship, is it? Oliver would kill to be in my place."

"You're not Oliver."

"Thank Godric. Puddlemere's going tits up this year."

George blew out his breath. "I think you're upset about it."

Fred put his quill down and sat back, staring at George impassively.

"And I think I know why."

"Enlighten me, then."

"Because you've had a thing for Angelina since you were fourteen, and you'd like what happened last night to happen again."

Fred looked away.

"And you know it's not going to." George winced as Fred flinched slightly. "Because you're an enormous git." Fred looked at him, startled. "Because if you were any kind of Gryffindor at all, you'd have asked her last night to make it more than a one-off."

"What, ask her to test out more of your products? Don't think she'd go for that."

George gave him a half-hearted smack.

Fred shrugged. "Look, so it happened. We both ate some of your bloody fairy cakes, they affected us, we ended up shagging. So what. Not a huge deal."

George snorted. "Your first time, not a huge deal. Tell me another one."

"Everybody has a first time. Even you might, some day."

George ignored the rather weak jibe. "It wasn't the way you wanted it to be."

"I got to shag a beautiful girl. More than once, even. I'd say that's not bad. Least I didn't have to pay for it."

"If that's all you wanted, you would've done it with her back at Hogwarts," George pointed out.

Fred shrugged. "Not the worst way to have a first time."

"Not the best, either. And I'll say it again. You wish it wasn't a one-off."

"Well, it was."

"Because you're a humongous coward and a twit. You should've asked her-"

Fred's jaw set. "What for? Things are better the way they are. We tried once, it didn't work, it's a good thing we're still friends."

"You want to try again, though."

"Where are you getting this from?"

"Twintuition."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Nice theory. Maybe I'm just tired, all right?" He scratched a few more lines onto the page.

"Why... why did you let her?" George asked curiously. "Erm, do you?"

Fred cleared his throat and looked down again. "She didn't feel any better once we'd, you know, the regular way. Wasn't exactly fair for me to feel better and her not to. Besides, 'm not such a coward as that."

George gazed at him, frustrated. "Are you still... did she hurt you? Physically, I mean?"

Fred blushed to the roots of his hair, and George dropped his eyes. One of the most annoying parts of being a redhead and a twin; they were hardly ever embarrassed, but when they were, it was so bloody visible. And contagious. He could feel his own face heating up.

Fred cleared his throat. "Not really." He cleared his throat again. "Not much. She was... erm. She wasn't rough or anything. I didn't mind. And discussing how my arse feels right now is actually not going to happen."

"You'd rather discuss how much of a git you are for being able to let her bugger you, but not having the balls to ask her to go out with you again?"

Fred crossed his arms defensively. "On second thought, let's go back to discussing my arse instead."

"Why the hell didn't you? Matter of fact, why the hell don't you? Ask her."

"How? 'Hey, I know there's a war on and all, but d'you want to go out with me? While you're hiding on the Isle of Man and I'm in London and likely to be arrested at any time?' Don't be daft."

"Well obviously you'd need some help with the wording, if that's seriously the best you can come up with, but-"

"No," said Fred through gritted teeth.

"Why not?" George asked, frustrated beyond belief. "What's the worst thing that could happen? She'll say no? Then you haven't lost anything-"

"She could say yes, all right?!" Fred snapped, and now the rosy tint to his features wasn't embarrassment, but anger.

George blinked. "What?"

"She could say yes," Fred repeated sullenly. "And we could go out again. And then... she ditched me once, all right? Not looking for it to happen again."

"Why would she ditch you again?"

Fred glared at him. "'Looking for different things out of life, Fred,'" he said in, in a fairly passable imitation of Angelina's voice. "'Life's not all jokes, Fred. Too bloody annoying being part of a threesome, Fred.'"

"What?" George frowned. "I was part of why she broke up with you?"

"'Don't want to come second all the time, Fred,' she said, so yeah, I'd say you were part of it."

"So... bloody hell, if she was jealous that you spent too much time with me, why didn't you just spend more time with her?"

"Because I didn't want to, all right? I wasn't going to change my whole life just because-"

"But you've been in love with her forever, why wouldn't you-"

"Maybe I'm just not mature enough," he sneered.

George rolled his eyes. "Look, that was then, this is now, and-"

"Yeah, this is now. And now is not a good time for anything like this."

"Why not?"

"There's a war on, you might have heard about it? Little brother missing in action? Cupboard full of candles representing people we can't help in any way, other than to light a bloody flame for them every night? Ring a bell?"

George waved dismissively. "Seize the day, then."

"No. Not with her. Afterwards, maybe..."

"There might not be an afterwards. You're the one who's pointed that out more than once."

"Aren't you the one who doesn't like dreary talk?"

George sighed. "Well if that's the case, why did you shag her in the first place? You said you wanted to wait for the right person, the right time. So why did you, last night?"

"Potent fairy cakes, George. You made them."

George nodded. "Yeah, and I know how potent they were. Not enough for you to go for it, if you really didn't want to."

"Fine." Fred looked away. "Well, like you said. Might not be an afterwards, might never be the right time."

"What about the right person?"

Fred coloured again and crossed his arms defensively. "Some day... some day you'll fall in love, and I'll take the mickey out of you," he muttered.

George chuckled. "Doubt it. I won't be as big a twit about it as you are." He gazed at Fred for a moment. "Look. You've been in love with her forever. All the excuses you've got are just that: excuses. You're acting like you're thirteen and getting all tongue-tied near a pretty girl. Bloody hell, you're making Ron look like Don Juan." He elbowed his brother gently. "Have to grow up sometime, yeah?"

"So says the only virgin left in this room," Fred pointed out, and George groaned.

"Oh Godric. I've just let myself in for virgin jokes till I rectify the situation, haven't I?"

"Fair trade for forgetting to restock shrivelfig, I'd say."

George chuckled. "Don't tell me it was all that bad."

Fred shook his head.

George hesitated, feeling inexplicably awkward. "So what... what was it like?"

Fred picked up his quill again and started doodling on the parchment. "Best night of my life," he finally said quietly. "And one of the worst."

George gazed at him, a million questions tumbling over themselves in his mind.

What was it like, really?

Is it as brilliant as Lee goes on about?

Are you sorry you waited so long?

Do you wish you'd waited longer?

Are you glad it was with Angelina?

Are you sorry it was with Angelina?

And for one of the only times he could remember, he didn't feel like he could ask any of them of his twin. For one of the only times he could remember, he couldn't even guess at the answers.

There was a small silence, then Fred's quill stopped scratching the parchment for a moment. "Listen... if anything happens to me... take care of her, all right?"

George frowned. "What?"

"Just, you know. Be a friend. Make sure she's all right."

"Listen, you wanker, no dreary talk," said George uneasily. Bloody hell, ever since he'd lost his ear Fred got these moods every so often. "Nothing's going to happen to you, right?"

"You'd rather talk about my arse again?"

George sniggered. "Fine. I'll look out for her. I would no matter what happened to you." He paused. "You're not going to ask me to do that old thing where a brother was supposed to marry his dead brother's widow and name his son after him in order to keep his magic alive, are you?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Did you ever wake up even once in History class? That's in the Bible, you berk. And it's keeping your brother's name alive, not his magic." He shook his head, amused. "The wizarding version is you take your brother's wand, remove the core, and have a new wand made using the same core. And no, I wouldn't ask you to do that either. Honestly." He chuckled. "I'm just saying look out for her. Make sure she's all right."

"I will. And hands off, no worries."

Fred chuckled again. "Hands wherever they end up, mate. Always did wonder why she went for me and not you."

"What?"

Fred hesitated briefly. "When things started to go bad, she'd sometimes say things. As in, you weren't as loud. Or as obnoxious. I even asked her once why she didn't go out with you instead."

George's eyebrows shot up. "What did she say?"

"Think I got a jelly-legs jinx out of it. She wasn't in much of a mood to do any talking. It wasn't a high point for us," he said ruefully. He finished a last amendment to the supply contract. "All right. I think I'm done here. Let's go say goodnight and get ready for bed."

"All right." They got up and headed downstairs. "Sure you don't want me to go with Lee tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not," said Fred. "You owe me. Last time you did Potterwatch and Mum nearly killed me for letting you. This time I get to brave Death Eaters and you get to deal with Mum's panic attack."

"Thanks," said George sourly. "No, really. Thanks a lot."

"And if you can break it to her that we need to leave early on Sunday to restock the shop, that'll be spiffing."

"Not a chance. We face that one together."

"Coward," Fred jeered.

"When it comes to Mum? Absolutely." He reached out a hand and stopped Fred on the landing. "All right, I promise I'll drop it as soon as I get this out. Just... at least send her an owl, all right? Doesn't have to be a huge declaration of anything, just... life's too short to miss out on something you want, for stupid reasons. Right?"

"Yeah."

"You'll send her an owl?"

Fred blew out his breath in annoyance. "Yeah, fine."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Good." George smiled. "Now let's say goodnight and go to sleep." He started back down the steps. "Because I swear, mate, you look totally shagged out."

Fred aimed a smack at his head and George dodged it, laughing, and headed down the stairs. Fred chuckled and followed him down.

ooo000ooo

Author's Note: Not that it matters, but the thing about marrying your dead brother's widow is actually in the Bible. 'Strue. Deuteronomy 25:5-10. So those of us who rolled our eyes a bit (or... a lot) when JKR said that's what George did... I dunno, maybe we should direct our eye-rolling towards Deuteronomy instead ;)

Author's Note 2: This is how boring my law Professional Practice and Pedantry class was: I ended up drawing pictures of all the candles in the whole blessed WWW niche. In my defence, I have been trying to get used to working with colour for a long time, so it wasn't just idle doodling.

Also, the class was really, really boring.

Anyway, for the curious, here they are:

Row 1 (missing & on the run): i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/Row1.jpg

Row 2 (in danger): i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/Row2.jpg

Row 3 (deceased): i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/Row3.jpg

the whole shebang: i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/AllRows.jpg