Cold November
I don't own anything but the plot. Please enjoy and leave a review!
The leaves had begun to fall on this chilly November day as Harry walked outside on his way to the Quidditch pitch. It was the perfect weather for practice, and Harry couldn't wait to get back on his broom. Quidditch practice had been cancelled three times because of the rain, and it had finally decided to quit raining about two days ago. It made it seem a bit colder, but no one was complaining. They had to practice for their upcoming game against Slytherin desperately.
As he entered the pitch, Harry noticed that Angelina had already started giving orders and drills to practice. The minute her eyes spotted him, he was up in the air to watch for the snitch. Ron was doing particularly well today, and Harry couldn't help but notice the relieved looks on Fred's and George's faces. Fred, upon seeing Harry, flew up to him while Angelina was yelling at a first year, Collin, for interrupting their practice.
"I think Slytherin's in the bag, don't you?"
"I hope so," Harry replied. "The thought of losing to Malfoy makes me want to throw up my teeth."
"You and me both, mate," Fred laughed. He gave Harry a side glance and asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"
"Yeah," Harry answered. "I'm fine."
"The universal for everyone who's not fine," Fred said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Look, you don't have to tell me," Fred said. "I just thought I would ask."
With that, Fred flew back down to help George keep a bludger away from Katie. Harry was left to his thoughts, and he wasn't so sure that was such a good thing. Normally Ron or Hermione would have asked him what was bothering him, and he would have spilled his guts. The problem he was facing now, however, was something he didn't know if he could tell anyone. He certainly couldn't tell Fred. After all, how can you tell someone it's them that's the problem?
Harry, look out!" someone screamed.
Harry opened his eyes to a familiar sight of the Quidditch team hovering over him. They were blurred figures, so he knew he was missing his glasses. He could hear Madam Pomfrey fussing about in the background. He could feel his head pounding and felt a large knot rising on the back.
"What happened?" Harry asked, trying to sit up.
"Bludger," he heard George say.
"You were kinda zoned out, so you didn't see it," Ron said.
"Yeah, if it wasn't for Fred you would have fallen to your death," Angelina said.
"Fred?" Harry asked, looking for the other twin.
"He caught you before you fell," George explained.
"Where is he?" Harry asked.
"Taking a shower," George answered. "The bludger nicked him in the head while he was flying down."
"He didn't want Madam Pomfrey making a fuss over him," Katie whispered. "He said you were more important."
Harry laid his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. It took everyone almost forty minutes to clear out of the hospital wing with a little help from Madam Pomfrey. It took almost twenty minutes to convince Hermione the he was fine, and that he would be back in the common room as soon as Madam Pomfrey would let him leave. He didn't want to go to the common room, though. For the first time in his life, Harry wanted to stay in the hospital wing. He wanted to spend as much time alone as he could.
"Potter," Madam Pomfrey said causing him to jump. "Sorry, dear, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's alright," Harry said as he sat up.
"You are free to leave when you get ready," she said.
Harry shook his head and said a small thank you to her. He took his time as he left and started to head toward Gryffindor tower. Half way up the stairs he realized that he was still wearing he Quidditch robes. He decided to go back down to the pitch to change and maybe even shower. He wanted some alone time to think and figured it would be a good opportunity.
It was passed dark when he finally made it to the changing rooms. He made sure no one had followed him before entering and closing the door behind him. He found his clothes laying on a bench in which he had left them, and he began to take off his Quidditch gear. He had only just taken off his boots when he heard someone's footsteps coming from the showers. Before he could ask who it was, Fred emerged wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked almost shocked to see Harry sitting there. Harry had just enough time to notice a small cut on his forehead.
"I see the bludger got you, too," Harry said.
"It's no big deal," Fred said, shrugging. "How's the head?"
"Better, thanks," Harry replied. "Thanks for helping me, too. Angelina told me."
"Well, I can't let the star player fall to his death now, can I?" Fred asked, smiling. "Besides, what kind of friend would that make me?"
Harry smiled and went back to undoing his robes. He saw Fred getting dressed out of the corner of his eye and tried to focus on everything except him. It was proving rather difficult, however, and after a while he gave up. He turned to look at Fred only to be surprised that Fred was looking at him as well.
"What's up, Harry?" Fred asked. "You've been acting different around me lately. Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Harry answered with a sigh. "I'm the one who did something wrong."
"Not to me you didn't," Fred said, slightly confused. "Harry, whatever it is, I'm sure it can't be that bad."
"Yes, it can," Harry said.
"You're going on as if you killed someone," Fred said trying to sound humorous.
"That would have been easier to explain," Harry said.
Fred looked at Harry with a sympathetic gaze that Harry didn't like. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell him, it was just that he couldn't. His stomach would always lurch when he tried, or he would feel as if he were going to throw up his insides. Fred was still looking at him which only made things more difficult for him.
"Well," Fred said, "I guess I'll leave you to your thoughts."
"No," Harry said a bit quicker than he expected to. "Just… wait."
Harry took another deep breath and decided to take a chance. He walked over toward Fred, who was thoroughly confused now, and realized just how tall the redhead was. He placed his hand on the back of Fred's neck, pulling him closer to Harry. Harry gently placed a kiss on Fred's lips before letting him go.
"Now do you see what's been on my mind?" Harry asked with a smile. "It's been you."
Fred gave Harry the same sympathetic look as before, and it did nothing to ease his nerves. He was beginning to think that the kiss was a bad idea. His breath was becoming short and quick as he waited for some kind of reaction.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Fred said.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. He could feel his heart breaking with every breath.
"It's not going to work," Fred explained. "I'm sorry."
"What?" Harry said. "Why?"
"It just can't work," Fred said.
"Is this a nice way of telling me you don't like me?" Harry asked.
"Merlin, no," Fred said.
"Then why don't you think it would work?" he asked.
"Because," Fred said.
"That's not an answer," Harry said.
"I can't do that to Ron," Fred said.
"What does Ron have to do with this?" Harry asked.
"I'm not the only guy in my family that likes you, mate," Fred said. "Ron would have a fit of he knew I told you. I just don't want him to be upset with me if we're together."
"But," Harry began, "I thought Ron liked Hermione?"
"He does," Fred said. "He's a bit confused because he likes you, too. He came to me for advice, but I didn't know what to day to him. I thought I was the only gay Weasley."
Harry didn't know what to do at this point. He never even imagined that Ron would like him because he was always going on about Hermione. All he wanted was to have Fred, and now, because of his best friend, he couldn't have him. He felt a sudden urge to punch Ron the next time he saw him. He turned away from Fred in the hope that he wouldn't see how angry he was. He felt Fred's hand on his shoulder, and he felt tears in his eyes for the first time that night.
"This isn't fair," he said. "It just isn't fair."
"I know," Fred said. "And you will never know how sorry I am."
"Yeah," Harry said. "I guess we'll both be sorry."
"Don't be mad at me, Harry, please," Fred begged. "I couldn't stand it if you were."
"It's not you I'm mad at," Harry said as he turned to face Fred. "I should have kept my bloody lips to myself."
Harry attempted to leave, but Fred grabbed his arm. Before Harry could pull away, he felt Fred's lips press against his. He tried to resist, but he felt himself grow weak and sank into the kiss. Fred's lips felt better than he thought they would, and he tongue was almost too much for Harry. He was sad when Fred removed his lips, and it took him a moment to regain feeling in his limbs.
"I'm glad you decided to share your lips," Fred smiled. "Give them to someone who deserves them."
Fred walked out before Harry had a chance to breathe. The warmth he felt while Fred was there was now gone. Now, all he felt was the bitter cold of winter and rejection.