A/N: So... Merry Christmas Mellbell360!

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

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He'd been looking for him for a long time. A really long time. Snow had started to fall, heavily in small, perfect crystals. At the start of the evening, before he'd begun his search, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. But now, the dark night sky was covered in dull grey clouds.

He looked up.

The snow collected on his fine eyelashes, fair skin dark in contrast of the pearly white flakes. Green eyes showed their worry, as he brought his tired gaze from the sky to the grounds. It was after hours now, and still his brother hadn't returned to the common room.

The damned Umbridge woman had given Fred detention, writing lines or something like that; and his brother had promised to be back soon. The twin had left with a glint in his eye and a mischievous smile to match. George waited. He waited with Lee until after curfew. And finally, the darker haired boy went up to bed. George still waited. He started his search around 9 pm, and now, he assumed, it was just after midnight.

George had looked everywhere he could think of. Every secret passage, the dock at the Black Lake, the washrooms, empty classrooms, the kitchens, and even the Room of Requirement. It was driving him insane. Where could his brother be?

There was more than brotherly concern. Maybe a lot more. Their relationship was complicated. Sometimes, even they didn't know what it was. At first, they assumed all brothers were really close. Of course this was true with all their brothers, excluding Percy, the git. But it went further than that. True, they did the things brothers normally did; they played tag, hide and seek, ground Quidditch, toss the gnome, and other childish games. But then they did things brothers didn't. For instance, even after reaching a trustworthy age, they continued to bathe together. They held hands frequently. They gave each other a kiss good night.

But that all changed.

When they went to Hogwarts the first year, people whispered about it. They said it was strange, odd, and unnatural. Names were thrown around, and rumours started. Without really meaning too, George and Fred drifted apart. This period lasted almost two full months, during which, several things happened. They both became depressed, from the others' absence. Fred cried himself to sleep every night. George wrote home every second day. Though they saw each other when they hung out with Lee, who had been their friend since the initial boat ride to the school, it wasn't nearly enough to keep them happy. Lee tried to help. Eventually, the rumors stopped; people saw they weren't together too often. Pranks were numerous, and their grades suffered more than normal.

And then they couldn't take it anymore. For the two months they were apart, it took two seconds to fix everything. Eleven they were, but smart also. They knew they loved each other. They'd always known. But it was weird; so they were told; and unnatural. But they had a plan. A plan that was sealed with a single, timid, inexperienced kiss.

Of course they'd bettered their kissing skills over the years, among… other things. But always wary of the public. Lee knew, of course; as their best friend, it was his job to know, and Bill, because he had impeccable timing. Lee had taken it well; they'd made certain to tell him when he was in a good mood. Not that it really would have mattered; Lee would have accepted it either way. Bill, on the other hand, had been an accident. He had figured it out by himself, being one of the smarter Weasley brothers. You have to be smart, to work for goblins. Bill had always been open minded, and he couldn't honestly disapprove. So that had been that.

Over the years, they continued their relationship. Always honest with each other. So why would Fred hide? It was unlike him. George was confused and concerned, possibly even a little hurt. He just couldn't discern what had triggered the current situation.

George's feet left lonely footprints in the snow, crunching towards the Quidditch field. He had stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, want clutched tightly just in case. Security was tight, since Umbridge kicked Dumbledore out. He hated her.

Upon reaching the Quidditch field, the redhead looked around. It was hard to see through the snow, which fell numerously in slow motions. It did nothing to calm his nerves, which could only be soothed when he found his brother. Seeing as it was impossible to see into the stands, George ducked into the changing rooms, shivering and casting a quick look around. A few drying spells later, and he was free of the snow and pleasantly warm. He was in the middle of readjusting his clothes when he heard a sound. Not daring to breath, he froze mid-motion and listened intently. Maybe one of Hagrid's creatures was loose. Or maybe Filch was cleaning. Normally things like this didn't bother him, but since he was alone this time, it put him on edge.

The noise sounded again. A cross between a whimper and a gasp, it made George shiver. Whatever it was, it sounded like it was in pain. George raised his want and silently stepped across the room, slightly hesitant to turn the corner and confront the source. But he had to.

The twin rounded the corner quickly in an attempt at surprise, his wand trembling in hand, only to see Fred sitting against he far wall.

The other Weasley twin sat with his knees to his chest. Between them were his hands, one holding the others' wrist in a desperate sort of fashion. His face was red, green eyes slightly puffed; it looked as though he had been crying and only recently had stopped. Upon seeing George, however, he attempted a weak smile but ended up sobbing.

George was heartbroken, and was immediately at his brothers' side.

"Hey Freddie… where you been?"

This seemed to make the other cry harder, rocking slightly as George wrapped his twin in his arms. He rubbed soothing circles on his back, making hush noises and kissing the top of his head occasionally. When Fred had calmed down enough to talk, he sniffled a bit, and tightened his grip on his wrist.

"Sorry, I'm fine. Just one of those days… y'know?" He said it hopefully, like lying would make the truth go away. George gave him a disapproving look.

"Don't lie. What happened?"

"Nothing, just lines."

"And? What else?"

"Nothing."

"Fred!"

"Nothing I said!"

But Fred gasped when George grabbed his hand. Seeing his twin in pain, George let go, thinking he had used to much force. His hand came away smeared in blood. Confused and angry, he looked up into glassy emerald eyes, which had always mirrored his own. Fred bit his lip and revealed his hand, having hidden it on reflex beneath his sleeve.

In Fred's own clumsy scrawl, carved into the flesh deeply, was the word 'Warped'.

Simple it was, but the meaning behind it was evasive. Even in times of depression, Fred had never gone so far as to mutilate himself. Why now? What precisely had happened?

"Why?" George asked brokenly, falling backwards from his crouched position. Fred pulled his wounded hand back and pulled his sleeve down to hide it once more. He sniffled and wouldn't meet his twins' eyes.

"I didn't do it. Well, not on purpose…" Fred wiped his nose once and looked up, eyes stronger than before. In a sudden wave of strong emotions, George found himself wanting to kit something and cry at the same time. He settled for crawling back to Fred, sitting with his back against the wall and pulling the other redhead into his lap. He urged his brother to continue, resuming the soft circular motions on his back. Fred swallowed noisily, but began again.

"She wanted to know about the DA. She gave me a cup of tea, but I hate tea… and anyways, Hermione warned us about that truth serum stuff. When I wouldn't talk, she used Occlumency."

He hiccupped, but continued,

"I closed everything I could think of. But I forgot to close out you. It's just so natural… me and you. I don't really think of it as a secret, so…"

Fred was trembling now, and George embraced him; holding him close and inhaling his brothers sweet scent. George wanted so badly to interrupt, but resigned himself to silence. Any interruption might close off Fred for good; and he couldn't have that.

"So she found out. She saw what our relationship is. She was furious. She told me it disgusted her… and other things."

After a small pause. George inquired further,

"…'and other things'?"

Fred nodded in dismally, "and other things…" he repeated quietly. George took the moment of silence that followed to organize his thoughts. He was infuriated, to start with. He had the urge to attempt a violent murder on a certain temporary headmistress. Alas, he thought sadly, clutching Fred closer, things like murder were illegal. Damn.

But, he realized, looking down with a frown and grasping his brothers injured hand, that still didn't explain where that had come from.

Fred watched George fiddle with his hand with half-closed eyes, languidly watching his brother trade the enflamed cuts. The wounded one spoke again, in response to the unasked question.

"The quill she gave me to use… whatever you write is carved into your hand. You write with your own blood."

George closed his hand around his brothers and kissed the top of his head lovingly before speaking softly,

"She made you write that?" Despite the fact that the cut was out of sight, it was imprinted in both their minds.

"'Warped'…" George whispered, lost in thought as he continued to hold his brother. Fred had flinched at the speaking of the word. Abruptly, George knew exactly why he was crying. It seemed ridiculous, impossible even, Fred never cared about anyone's opinion; besides George's own, of course. Anger kindled again, George inhaled sharply, exhaling slowly. How was he supposed to get it to sink in?

"Fred, look at me," George said firmly, shifting a bit. The redhead hesitantly did what the other said, turning carefully and sitting in a way that was comfortable. Legs on the side of George's thighs, he sniffled and sat back, slightly crouched. He stared through his hair at George, who had placed his hands on Fred's shoulders. His brother licked his lips before speaking.

"You are mine. Maybe that's selfish, but what we have… I won't let it slip away. I couldn't care less what other people think. As long as I have you, it doesn't matter."

George moved his hands to the sides of Fred's face, whose perfect lips trembled.

"And when we tell people, some of them are going to be pissed. But Lee is okay with it, and so is Bill. Don't be ashamed of who you are."

A small smile graced Fred's lips as he took the opportunity to speak, "And what exactly am I?"

George didn't miss a beat.

"You are Fred Weasley. You are my brother. You are my brother. You are mine. No, you aren't perfect, and you might have a few quirks, but I love every part of you. Every imperfection, every smile, every freckle on your pretty little head. I love it all, because it is all you, and you are mine."

Fred kissed George then, wrapping his arms around his neck. George welcomed the contact, moving his own hands to his twins waist. The kiss wasn't lustful or needy, only loving and gentle. When they parted it was only for lack of breath.

Fred panted, resting his forehead against his brothers. George licked his lips, loving the lingering taste of Fred.

His brother grinned, "Well. I think I like who I am!" But his face turned serious, "That doesn't mean I like who she is." George hummed his agreement darkly.

The next few moments were spent in silence except for the soft breeze and quiet breathing. Fred was content to snuggle into his brothers chest, falling asleep almost instantly to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. George remained awake.

They just had to get out. School couldn't teach them anyone else they needed, of that he was certain. They could run away, and finally be together and
happily run their joke shop. But they'd have to go out with a bang.

He was thinking fireworks.

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A/N: Okay! 'Tis done. There. Over with. Time to start something new. Sorry for making Fred a little bit of a sap, but it was necessary. So... you know. Review and stuff. That would be great. Thanks.