Feelings. Lust, love, compassion, self hatred. They all got caught up in his throat, choking him. Who was he? He had lost sight of everything he had once wanted. And now he was sinking.
George Weasley had hidden his feelings, buried them for so long. He had never embraced them, he had never wanted to. He was afraid. So he buried the truth under six feet of jokes and facades. Even Fred didn't know. Keeping a secret from his best friend and his brother was a burden. It weighed down his heart but he had to keep it under lock and key. For he didn't know if Fred would accept him for who he was. Gay.
Fred's dark eyes scanned the party. "Over there" he nudged George who looked up from his drink.
"Who?" George asked with interest swilling the fire whiskey around in his mouth. It tasted bitter, burning his throat like poison. He didn't want to be in the Room of Requirement. He didn't want to be at a party full of beautiful, distracting boys. All the swinging hips, bright eyes, open collar shirts. He wanted to go back to his bed and just not think.
"The blonde" Fred jerked his head over to the corner. George's eyes flickered over a slender, blond boy but he knew that Fred was referring to the girl next to him.
"Nah I think she's Slytherin" George said setting his glass down "Let's just go back to the common room".
"I bet she's got a friend for you" Fred winked standing up and ignoring his brother. George watched him cross the room, tall, confident. He fit so perfectly in his own skin. He knew who he was and George found himself envying his twin. He swung his legs out, dropped off the stool and hit the floor, stumbling slightly.
He was drunk and that was never a good sign. As always he followed Fred. He didn't know what else to do. Whatever his brother did he did. They were inseparable, they were soul mates.
George pushed back his mop of sweaty hair. Maybe he should just tell Fred. He would understand. He loved George.
But the slim element of risk was too much. Even if George unlocked his secret and felt free it wouldn't matter if he didn't have Fred by his side. Self doubt shadowed the corners of his mind. His head felt too heavy for his neck, multicoloured spots dancing across his vision.
Fred had trapped the pretty little blonde in the corner, his hands splayed against the wall, either side of her petite frame. George made his way across the room. His shoulder hit off another boy's.
"Watch it!" a familiar voice snarled.
George turned, his eyes clouded with drink. Draco Malfoy glared at him, blonde hair ruffled, his lip curled. In this state George could see how beautiful Draco looked; almost ethereal. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, his hair white gold, his eyes rings of silver.
"Sorry mate" George slurred. He could feel his arms reaching forwards clinging to Draco. The younger boy shook him off, disgust etching his face.
"Get off!" With one last scathing look Malfoy vanished leaving George standing alone, feeling very forlorn.
"Hey George!" Fred called. He spun around, his eyes latching onto his brother's.
"Hannah here has a friend. Meet Becky".
Fred grinned as if he was doing George a favour. George swallowed loudly. He felt sick. He could tell Becky was pretty; tall and long limbed with dark curls but she wasn't his type. None of these girls were. He spun around, desperate to escape. He could feel the light sheen of sweat sticking his shirt to his back, the thrumming of his heart beat loud in his ears.
He had to get out.
He elbowed his way through the crowd, nausea rolling in the pit of his stomach. When he spilled out of the doors and into the corridor he punched the wall. He was breathing hard, his mouth sour. He sank to the floor and hung his head in his hands panting. Blood blossomed along his knuckles, stinging.
He could hear footsteps, a sharp intake of breath but he didn't look up. He knew who it was. He could recognise his twin from a mile away. Even by the light tread of his feet on stone, the audible swallow as he assessed the situation. He felt Fred slide down next to him, a heavy arm slung around his shoulders, pulling him close.
Fred was the only thing that was keeping him together. He was broken but his brother was gathering the fragments. Soon Fred would piece him back together again and he would be happy.
"Becky wasn't your type then?" Fred asked.
George let out a light chuckle, feeling pressure slide from his shoulders. "No" his voice cracked.
"Who is?" Fred's voice was curious.
George looked up, his eyes meeting his brother's.
Understanding passed between them and Fred's lips parted in surprise. "Oh!" he breathed.
George buried his face in his hands. He couldn't swallow around the fear residing in his throat. What if Fred was repulsed? What would happen then? George didn't think that he could exist without Fred.
"You're gay" Fred said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes" George muttered. Another weight lifted from his chest. Another rope binding him to a lie was cut.
"I know that already you daft idiot!"
George looked up disbelieving.
"You did?" His voice sounded vulnerable even to his own ears. He winced.
"Of course. You're my best friend. You're my soul mate. You didn't think I would care if you're straight or not did you?"
George shrugged whilst Fred looked visibly hurt "I would never let you down George. Where would I be without you?
Besides statistically there was bound to be a gay Weasley. Ron thinks it's Charlie. He might be right come to think of it. He never has had a proper girlfriend" Fred trailed off suggestively and George found himself shakily laughing once more.
He had never felt better, now that he was released from the fear and the guilt. Keeping a secret from Fred had been far worse than facing the truth. He was gay and it didn't matter. Now everything didn't seem half as bad.
"We just need to get you a boyfriend now" Fred winked with a cheeky grin.