Two Halves to a Hole

Am I still dreaming? George thought as he opened his eyes. No...He realized he was slowly waking up, even as cobwebs still clung to the corners of his mind. His dreams had been nothing but jumbles of light and sound; nothing he would miss. Even so, the dream state was not letting him go without a fight, and George found it difficult to say goodbye.

Although, upon retracing his steps, George found he didn't remember falling asleep...and he was certainly not in his bed. As he slowly came to, George dimly realized he was sitting upright on a sofa. The scratchy cloth rubbing against his arms was his first sensation upon opening his eyes. And he was freezing. His ears and nose were chilled numb, and his whole left side had risen up its tiny hairs, armed with goose pimples against the cold. But his right side...it was warm.

Creaking open his eyelids a sliver more, George could make out Fred's sleeping form. His twin had evidently fallen asleep on this same couch, collapsed against his brother so that their sides had been pressed together long enough to produce a warm cushion of air. Fred's chin was delicately tucked into George's shoulder, his auburn hair tickling his brother's chin. His hands were twitching restlessly in his lap, like quivering birds. The comforting rhythm of Fred's breathing was so systematic that George had to tear his mind away from the steady beat in order to focus. Is this a dream...? It took George a moment to fully realize why this closeness felt so wonderful. Because Fred hasn't wanted to be close to you in so long...George swallowed. Why was that? Although he felt a strong desire to remain ignorantly blissful, the day's events came trickling back into his mind nonetheless.

A long, defeated sigh rolled out from George's lungs, stirring his twin's hair. Fred shuffled, nuzzling his face deeper into the curve of his twin's neck, and George got a glimpse of the mark on Fred's exposed arm. It radiated like simmering oil upon the forearm of this dozing angel...it was unnervingly wicked and alive on someone so asleep. George regarded it quietly, for once allowing the marred skin to share his brother with him. So tired...can't bring myself to care...He knew he had to care--he needed to care--there was no other way around it--but if he could sit in this bliss for just a little while longer...George gingerly traced the mark with his fingertips before realizing someone was watching them from the doorway. He looked up and saw Snape regarding them with a look of mild amusement on his face.

"The moment you accept it as "alright" is the moment that He will strike," Snape said in an uncharacteristically placid voice.

"What?" George asked, a chill running down to his toes. How did he...

But then Hermione stomped into the room, followed by a reddening Ron.

"What do y-you mean, 'Just a fling?' Hermione, what were you thinking? How c-could you?" Ron was blathering, his face taut with stress.

"How could I? How could I what? Have a normal relationship? Why is it so hard to believe that I could have a normal relationship? Please Ron--get off my back about it for goddsakes. You're driving me completely batty," Hermione saw George and her angry rant stopped short, her voice softening to a whisper: "Oh--George. It's good to see you awake. Tonks said it was just exhaustion, but still...." She finally noticed Fred slumbering peacefully beside George, and she blinked, her lips twisting in momentary sadness. She's hiding it so well.

"No--in normal relationships you tell other people, alright?" Ron hadn't dropped it yet. "You don't keep it a secret like yer some kinda criminal."

"This is why we never mentioned it, okay, Ron? I didn't want it to blow into some huge deal like the one your making. "

"That's because it is a big deal--it's my own bloody brother, and you never told me an' Harry. An' were supposed to be best friends an' everything!"

"But you don't see Harry reacting like a Northern Banshee, do you?"

"That's different! Harry doesn't think like...he never..." Ron broke off his muttering, turning light scarlet.

"Well, now you both know," Hermione answered. "But it doesn't even matter anymore, does it?

Fred growled, his throat giving off light vibrations from where it touched George's skin. "It doesn't?" he asked, not bothering to sit up. "I'm disappointed in you, 'Mion."

Ron jumped, and Hermione tightened her lips. They had both disregarded the latent Death Eater.

"I thought he was still out..." Ron mumbled.

"How could I sleep with all this bloody racket right over my head, especially when it's about me?" Fred asked; his breath was warm against George's frigid neck.

"Whatever...this isn't about you."

"Oh, I think I'm definitely who this is about. In fact, it's about me and Hermione--but that's what has you so upset, isn't it, ickle Ronniekins? You can't stand being so uninvolved that you didn't even know about us--"

"Just shut your hole," snapped Ron, the scarlet now creeping up his ears.

"And Hermione," Fred drawled, apparently bored with his little brother for the time being. "Why are you breaking up with me? I don't think that's very fair."

George could hear Hermione snort from where he was perched on the couch. "Fred. You're working for You-Know-Who, in case you've forgotten."

"And you were always the one complaining about wizards being biased..."

"Against werewolves and house elves, not full-blown Death Eaters!"'

"Oh...but you'd date a Death Eater."

"I would not!"

"Oh...so, you'd just snog one," Fred smiled. Now it was Hermione's turn to turn red.

"I said, shut your hole," Ron interjected, visibly angry.

"I wouldn't snog..." Hermione answered with a little less conviction. She looked a little muddled, as if she were attempting a hard maths problem in her head. In reality, she was trying to sort out the days she and Fred had been together in relation to Fred's little 'outings'. He was bringing up a doubt she had established in her mind early on, and it made her feel sick to her stomach, especially when he winked at her and grinned.

"Shuttup!" Ron shouted once again, and he lunged at Fred, who was still curled up on the couch. Fred didn't even blink; it was George who stopped his little brother, grabbing Ron by his shabby cloak and pushing him backwards.

George would later realize that this was the best possible move. Fred was a beacon straight to Voldemort, and any harm that came to the twin would have alerted You-Know-Who immediately, causing the Weasley girls to be put in jeopardy. But that's not what George had been thinking at the time. No, his instinctive reaction to protect Fred was as natural as breathing, and everyone knew it. And it scared them all just a little, especially George. A little kindness on Fred's part and I become a bleeding liability, George thought, looking down. Fred chuckled and pecked George's neck before standing up.

"Hold it right there," Snape interrupted from the doorway. He looked thoroughly disgusted with their little drama, and George couldn't blame him in the least. "Fred Weasley, I'm here to escort you to your room," he sneered and jerked his head towards the door.

Fred's faced snapped back into his second-nature 'serious' mode. "My master is not going to be pleased if I'm confined. I told you that right off."

Snape's upper lip twitched. "The Order is well aware of the situation. But we cannot have you gallivanting around the halls of our headquarters either."

"Why not?" Fred laughed. "I helped clean this dump out--me an' George know it better an' anybody."

"Even so." Snape's eyes flashed.

"Fine. But don't expect me to stay in there too long. I have business I have to attend to."

"Again, the Order is aware of such." Snape looked livid, even though his voice was monotone. Hermione had the feeling Snape was under strict orders from Dumbledore to mind his manners.

Fred started to follow the professor out into the hallway, courteously nodding at Hermione as he did so. The three of them could hear him still talking as he got farther and farther away: "...lots of business. In fact, I think Bellatrix wanted me over for tea sometime today..."

"I wanna flatten 'im," mumbled Ron when they could no longer hear anything.

"Even though you think he's brain washed?" Hermione asked, still a little pink around the edges.

Ron considered it for a moment. "Yea, even so."

George looked between the two of them, and couldn't help to miss his twin already. It's as if his 'antennae' perked up as he left, buzzing George's brain and asking why he wasn't following. And now the chill was thick and unforgiving against him. So cold... "Why is it freezing in here?" he asked, rubbing his arms aggressively.

"We had Dementors popping by here earlier," Ron answered.

"What?" George leapt up, completely forgetting his numbed arms and legs.

"Calm down, they've all gone," Hermione added. "They were looking for Lucius Malfoy, of course. His escape is all in the papers."

"Besides, Dumbledore hasn't give up any information yet,"sniffed Ron. "He doesn't approve of the Ministry usin' em' anyways."

"But we're going to have to approach the Ministry sooner or later to fulfill Fred's demands," Hermione nodded.

"Fred's demands?" George blinked. "He's already made his demands? How long have I been asleep?"

"Just a few hours, mate."

"Where's Harry?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"I think you need to tell me what's happened," George sighed.

So they did. They told him about being received by a dozen members in the Order when Snape, the trio, Fred, and an unconscious George had flooed to headquarters. They told him about how frightening the experience was, how sick they felt to be greeted by so many hardened faces and unsheathed wands. A real taste of history. They told him how Fred had stepped forward, demanding to meet with Dumbledore, and how he had been shot murderous glances from the crowd. Snape had to step between Fred and the wizards to protect him, because the twin's mark was showing and he was sneering at the Order members. These were the people Fred had eaten meals with, had played with, and had laughed with.

Eventually, in response to their angry heckling, Fred had said something pro-Voldemort, and someone had tried to hex the red-head. Luckily Snape countered it, but this didn't stop Fred from shouting about the Weasley girls being held hostage, and the mood had quickly turned violent. Fortunately, Dumbledore had stepped in at that point, pulling their group into his office and shutting the door.

There, Fred had quickly laid out his demands to Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks, Lupin, and a few other select wizards. Soon afterwards, the trio were remembered and ushered out of the room--but not before they had heard what Voldemort was after in exchange for the lives of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. He wanted four more of the Death Eaters in Azkaban to be released; every name on the list was recognizable from the deadly skirmish that had resulted in Sirius's death last year. The stony-faced Order members argued that four in exchange for two of their own was simply not fair, and Fred had just laughed the chilling way that has become his habit.

"It was pretty terrible," Hermione muttered. "Tonks's eyes were all red, and she looked about ready to cry. She's one of the few of them who haven't seen this sort of thing before, and even though she didn't break down over it, you could tell it really affected her..."

"Anyways, then Fred said the thing about Harry..."added Ron, looking pale.

"What thing about Harry?" George asked.

"Voldemort obviously doesn't trust Harry not to do the heroic thing, as Fred said, and so he wanted Harry to leave."

"Leave where?"

"Isn't it obvious? The only place Harry can go where he's away from the Order and still safe: Pivot Drive."

"Crikey!" George couldn't imagine how Harry must be feeling right now...so left out, confused, worried. "So what happened then?"

"Well, Harry willingly agreed to go back to the Dursleys. He said he guess he should be grateful that You-Know-Who didn't want him to leap off the nearest cliff, because to save Mrs.Weasley and Ginny, he probably would have," Ron answered.

"Right. Then Fred gave that awful grin and said "first things first" or something like that. It was dreadful," Hermione added.

George rubbed his eyes and thought shamefully about how he had slept so contentedly alongside ehis brother. Think George, think.

"So that's it? You-Know-Who is going to get five Death Eaters in exchange for a promise he won't hurt my family? That's how it's going down?"

"It's bullocks, I know," agreed Ron forcefully.

George found it difficult to regain his thoughts, but when he could finally focus, he realized there was something missing in this equation. In all this insanity...I thought there was something...I'm missing a piece...Oh!

He lowered his voice considerably before asking: "What about the reversing spell? Whatever happened with that?"

Hermione and Ron glanced at one another before turning back to the twin.

Slowly, they smiled.