George woke to brilliant sunlight pouring out of the open window of the upstairs bedroom at the Burrow. He turned to look at the clock, and saw his twin lying in bed next to him. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was frowning.
George looked past him and to the clock. It was seven AM. He groaned and lay back down. It was way too early, but he had to get up. He rolled over and shook Fred's shoulder, his hand grasping the warm flesh of Fred's bare skin. He shivered at the contact. As did Fred.
Fred's eyes shot open. "No!" He blurted out. Then he blinked many times, looking around him. "Where am I?" he whispered.
"In the Burrow, Fred. It's alright. It was just a nightmare." George said in a comforting voice. He tilted his twin's chin up to look into the deep brown eyes, eyes full of fear and incomprehension. Then they relaxed, staring into George's face, recognition setting in. He sighed, relief apparent in his sigh.
"I'm sorry, George. What did I say?" Fred muttered, his eyes closed.
"You were having a nightmare or something, and you didn't know where you were. You cried out, 'No!' Then you came back to reality. It's ok." George ruffled Fred's hair, smiling at his mirror-image.
Fred looked back down at his lap, flushing as redheads are wont to do. "Sorry." He muttered again.
George smirked. "Let's go downstairs. Mum's pry got a bunch of food for us. 'You're getting too skinny, Fred.' 'I'm George, Mum!' 'Oh, sorry… It's just so hard to tell you two apart!'" George mimicked, grinning.
Fred finally smirked back. "I'm George today." He said.
"Alright, George. Wonder what's for breakfast today…" George trailed off as he put his arm through his twin's and towed him downstairs.
---
When they got downstairs, Mrs. Weasley was standing over a large pot, stirring it with her wand, and motioning for a knife to cut some toast. "No, cut it, don't butter it!" she cried as the knife went to the fridge and magicked out some butter.
Fred grinned at George and slid his wand out of his waistband, pointing it at the knife and muttering a spell under his breath. Molly whirled around.
"Oh, thank you, Fred. I don't know why it didn't listen to me…" she said.
"Mum! I'm George!" Fred said in a whining tone.
"George, I'm sorry. I just can't seem to tell you two apart. You seem more alike every day, almost as though you are one person… I ought to, seeing as I am your mother…" she rambled on as she stirred the pot, and Fred and George grinned at each other.
"We know, Mum." Fred said.
"That's why we came up with a pill to help you come up with differences between us." George said.
"That's really cool." Ginny had come into the kitchen after them. "If it actually works." She raised an eyebrow, looking a lot like Molly.
"Well, well, dear sister." Fred said.
"Maybe you want to test it for us." George said with a smile.
Ginny sneered. "That's not bloody likely."
"Ginny! Language…" Molly scolded.
"Come on, lovely Ginny," George said.
"Try it for us." Fred said.
"We can't try it-," George started.
"-because we already know which one is which!" Fred finished.
Ginny smirked. "Again, its not--"
"Ginny." Molly said in a warning tone, raising an eyebrow at her only daughter.
Ginny frowned. "Fine. I'll try it. Even though I know that you," she pointed at Fred, "are Fred, and you," she pointed at George, "are George."
"You see, dearest sister," George said,
"That is why you need it." Fred said.
"For I am Fred." George said.
"And I am George." Fred said.
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Whatever you guys say…" She trailed off as Fred pulled out a pill from his pocket, and slid it into her hand. She raised her eyebrows as she placed it on her tongue and swallowed. Immediately, she started choking and turned green. She rushed over to the sink, and immediately heaved. Fred and George both cringed.
"Oh dear, Fred." George said.
"Oh dear, George." Fred said at the same time.
"I suppose we gave her the Puking Pastille instead…" They both said, smirking.
"I guess that's what you get," George said.
"For trying something from us!" Fred said.
They both sat down at the table, high five-ing. Immediately they began discussing prices for the pills, as Ginny's face became less and less green with each word.
"What did you do to me?" she shrieked.
"It's just a Puking Pastille." Fred said.
"Gets you out of class really fast." George said.
"And then you feel better really fast, too." Fred said.
"You know, Fred, I do think that it should be…" and they were talking prices again.
Ginny scowled, and then sat down at the table, her arms crossed over her chest.
There was a thudding on the stairs, and the other red-head that lived at their house, Ron, came down stairs, his hair mussed, and his eyes red with lack of sleep.
"What's the matter, Ron?" Molly asked. "You look like you didn't sleep at all last night."
"Maybe because I didn't." Ron scowled. "I couldn't sleep. I think that ghoul is back in the attic. There were thumping and crashing sounds coming from upstairs all last night."
Fred and George looked at each other. They had been experimenting with some of their creations last night. That was what Ron had heard. They smirked at each other.
"Well, Ron, we have what you need. We will have to charge you for it." They said.
Ron held out his hand. "Whatever it is, just give it to me." The twins looked at each other and shrugged. Fred ran upstairs, grabbed the Insta-Awake Lozenge, and ran back down, slipping it to Ron. Ron shoved it into his mouth and shuddered. Fred and George looked at each other with anticipation.
Ron's eyes shot open, and he grinned. "God, I feel better. Seriously, guys, can I get some more of those for around finals time?"
"Sure, brother." They negotiated a price and sold their brother 20 and 5 extra because he was related to them.
"Nice doing business with you, Ron." Fred said.
"Be sure to tell all your little friends, dear brother." George said.
"Alright, now. Enough talking about products. Lets eat!" Molly said, placing a steaming hot plate in front of all of them as Mr. Weasley sauntered down the stairs. He planted a kiss on Molly's forehead, and sat down, draping his coat over the back of his chair.
Conversation was light at the table during breakfast, and from outside, anyone could hear the laughter ensuing from the twins at random intervals.
---
That night, after a day of cleaning out the house and getting rid of boggarts from the desk upstairs, Fred and George lay in their bed together. From birth, they had shared everything from clothes, to friends, to their bed. They always told each other everything.
"Do you really think we can sell those to a bunch of students, Fred?" George asked, referring to the Insta-Awake Lozenges.
"'Course we can. They will need them. Especially the ones who are more… uh, active at night." Fred replied, stretching his arms above his head and laying back.
"People such as us, with the Marauder's map?" George asked.
"'Course. And Harry. We all know what a naughty boy Harry is. He would probably kill for one of those things sometimes." Fred grinned wickedly.
George grinned back and snuggled under the covers. "Considering our late night last night, we should get some sleep, eh, Fred?"
"Right, George. See you in the morning."
"Sleep tight."
"Don't let the bed bugs bite."
"And all that jazz…"
---
But George couldn't sleep. All he could think about that night was how close Fred was to him. It wasn't helping that Fred had no shirt on, and the moonlight streaming from the window was illuminating that bare skin. He could see every muscle outlined, clearly defined in Fred's thin chest. George had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it. He wanted to feel what it would feel like under his fingers.
Against his will, his fingers reached out and were centimeters away from Fred's skin when George finally had the presence of mind to jerk it away. What do you think you're doing, George? That's not what a brother feels when he looks at his twin. That's not just incest. Its twincest! George shook his head, trying to shake off the thoughts. He closed his eyes, closing out the image of Fred, and tried to sleep.
---
Fred was having just as hard of a time of sleeping as George was. When he finally heard his twin's snores, he opened his eyes, feeling George's light breath on his face. He looked at his twin in the moonlight. He was positively glowing. He took a deep breath and sat up. I can't sleep with this only inches away from me, he thought. How and when he realized he was in love with his brother, he didn't know, he just knew that he couldn't let him know.
He could only imagine the reaction George would give him. Imagine the yells, the disownment, and the scared eyes. No, he couldn't risk losing him. He just would keep it quiet. If he were to open his mouth, he could lose him forever. He wouldn't be able to live without his twin.
He felt a bit narcissistic, being in love with his mirror-image. He could see little things different between him and his twin, however, so that made it better. He remembered that morning, when George had comforted him, gazing into his eyes. He remembered thinking that if he were to pretend to still be confused, he could stare into his eyes longer. He did. His brother's brown eyes were beautiful.
Fred groaned and rubbed his eyes with a fist. If only he could read his brother's mind like he used to... He tried, but his desires for what he wanted his brother's thoughts to be got in the way. He imagined George dreaming about him. He didn't know where the dreams came from in Fred's mind, but they came from somewhere. They can't possibly be George's actual dreams, right?
He groaned again and flopped down, trying to sleep.
---
George heard a groan and, out of brotherly love, of course, opened his eyes and saw his brother rubbing his eyes with his fists, and wanted so badly to comfort him. I can't. He thought. Imagine his reaction...
---