Ignorance

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "A Friend I Had" by Aaron Sprinkle and "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen.

Notes: I've had this idea for a while (like, several years) and today I finally decided to write it all up as a story. I liked trying to accurately write the emotions and conversations. I hope I got it right! Constructive criticism is always appreciated. As I heard someone say, "Hours to make, minutes to comment", so please review!

He had never had this feeling before.

It was cold, like an ice cube slipping down into his stomach, chilling his insides, but his face—his whole head seemed to burn. His hands shook a little and he found himself suddenly at a loss for words. Mere seconds ago he had been relaxed, teasing his younger brother, but he felt different now, confused...

Betrayed...

Surely Fred must've known before he shouted across the room to Angelina that he was hurting George. He must've known that George liked her first, that he had been planning on asking her that very evening. He must've known how humiliated he had just made him feel.

But Fred's expression showed nothing. He gave George a friendly, somewhat tired and lopsided grin and jerked his head towards the portrait hole.

"...George, come on..."

And George nodded and gave an identical half-smile back because he didn't know what else to do.

Fred was the older twin, born just a few minutes before his younger brother, but that didn't really matter to them. They were more than brothers, more than twins. They were best friends. They were a perfect balance—George came up with plans and Fred carried them out. Well, they both did, really, but Fred had a knack for turning theories and ideas into realities. And sometimes they reversed—Fred thought and George acted. But it was always equal. They were always equals.

So how had this happened?

Fred had always been able to read his thoughts. Just a shared glance between the two of them and there were no secrets. But, then again, there had never been anything to hide before. Now it suddenly felt as though every secret the two of them had shared was pressing down on George, because they weren't their secrets now. He now had to carry their weight by himself.

And all of a sudden, he didn't want Fred to know anything. They were his secrets now. If Fred couldn't guess... If he couldn't tell...

Well, what was the point now? If Fred had known, then that meant he had hurt George on purpose. If he hadn't, then that meant they were what George had always thought they were—two halves to the closest friendship in existence.

And the way he had just flat out said that he was going to take her before he had even bothered to ask...George felt sick and embarrassed as they climbed out of the portrait hole and began the long walk to the owlery.

But he couldn't work out why he felt embarrassed. It wasn't like Fred had done anything to mortify him, not ostensibly at least, but he still felt the sting of it. It was as if... as if Fred had tripped him while he was running forward, causing him to stumble, to fall. He would never be able to approach Angelina now. She was now Fred's and George knew that he and his brother were much more territorial than either let on. Also, how would it appear to her? One brother asks her out and then the other approaches her just to say he's had a crush on her since their fourth year. It would seem... well, it would seem creepy.

He was humiliated because he was jealous of Fred. Because while George would just have to lie, face down in the dirt, after the fall, Fred would be able to run ahead, to win the race.

But what were they racing towards?

George shoved his hands into his pockets and sloped down the hallway, his pace just a bit slower than Fred's, who was striding, hands also in his pockets, and whistling to himself.

George's insides still felt frozen, his face was flushed and felt boiling hot. He stared down at his feet as he walked, trying to ignore the pressure he could feel building behind his eyes. He bit his lip, listening to Fred's whistling. The sound grated against his already raw anger towards his brother. How could he not know? How could he have betrayed him, embarrassed him so fully?

They were supposed to be best friends... equals...

"Why did you do that?" George asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs that led the owlery.

Fred looked at him, his blue eyes just a little wider than usually. "Do what?"

George looked up at him, his mouth scowling slightly. "Ask Angelina to the Yule Ball."

"Because she's decent looking, she's good at Quidditch and I know her well enough that the whole experience won't be too awkward. Why?"

George said nothing, focusing on the gray stone wall just behind Fred. "Don't be daft," he said finally, but didn't look Fred in the eye.

"What are you talking about?" asked Fred, one eyebrow raised. "You're not making sense, George."

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't!"

"Yes, Fred," said George, shooting him a quick glare before looking away again, "you do."

"I really don't, George. What's going on?"

Fred's voice was teasing, as always, but it had a certain soft edge to it. He was worried, concerned about his twin.

"Why did you ask her?"

"I told you why," insisted Fred. "Why do you care so much?"

"I was going to ask her!" George spat, finally look him in the eye. His face was hotter than it had been before back in the common room. "I wanted to go to the ball with her, you prat."

"What are you—why don't you just ask Alicia, then?" asked Fred, looking completely bewildered. "Or Katy..." He stopped, his voice fading before he finished the rest of the sentence.

There was a brief silence. An icy draft came through one of the old, stained glass windows. It cut easily through the thick wool of George's school sweater. He shivered a little, the cold air a relief for his burning cheeks.

"Oh damn..." said Fred, running a hand through his hair. "George, come on... I don't like her that way! You know that! I mean... I didn't know... You know I didn't know..."

"I thought you did," said George, the words barely coming out as only a whisper as he stared back at Fred, whose cheeks were rapidly turning the same shade of red as his twin's.

"George... It'll be okay! You can go ask her right now! I don't really care who I go with!" Fred was trying to fix things. "It'll be fine! She can switch!"

"Don't be stupid! She wouldn't..." George paused, trying to find the words to say what he wanted to say, but there weren't any. Nothing could be done. "It's fine. I mean... If she decided to go with you... I'll just ask... someone else..."

He started up the stairs and Fred followed him. They were both silent as they tied their letter on to the leg of the school owl and watched it fly off over the Forbidden Forest. They didn't say anything until that night, once the other boys in their dormitory had fallen asleep. Fred rolled on his side and looked at George. George could see his twin's face in the silvery moonlight that reflected off the snow and streamed through the window that separated their beds. Fred still looked worried, his mouth drawn into a smile line. George felt guilty, a small acid-like feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't have told Fred. He should have just left things the way they were.

I'm sorry. The words were written all over Fred's face. George gave him a small smile and gave a small shrug.

Don't be. She likes you a lot.

Fred shook his head and turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. George watched him for a little while longer, reading his face—the face that was identical to his own.

"I am sorry," said Fred after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really. I didn't know... I bet she does like you..."

"Don't be stupid. It's... It's fine. She chose you."

"She only chose me because I asked her first." Fred turned back towards him, his expression serious. "Honestly. I bet that if you ever get a chance to ask her out again, she'll say yes in a second. If you want you can dance with her all you want at the dance. Really. I don't mind..."

"No." George bit his tongue and twisted his lips a little to the side. "She's your date. Have fun with her."

Fred paused, staring off into space somewhere beyond George's elbow. "You'll get her eventually, you know. She and I... we're just friends, you know, but I bet she likes you, too. Seriously. You should ask her out later."

George tried to laugh, but it somehow came out as something closer to a sigh. The earlier embarrassment and jealousy still burned somewhere at the back of his mind, but he had to ignore it for now, to stifle the feeling.

He and Fred were best friends, equals, two halves of the closest friendship in existence. George knew that Fred would never sever such a relationship on purpose, but the fact that it was an accident... The fact that she had said yes...

Well, it hurt.

But he couldn't tell Fred. He had already worried him so much. It hadn't been his fault. Things had just changed somehow, without either of them realizing. Things would repair themselves eventually, maybe not entirely, but as much as they could. The two of them... They were best friends.

George looked back at Fred.

"We'll... We'll see," he answered finally and smiled. "Good night, Fred."

"Good night, George."