It had started out simple enough. They were flat mates, friends, and enemies. They knew the good in each other and had witnessed the bad. From a harmless prank to a cold blooded murder.
That was them. Completely different and yet the same.
Of course the twins were. They were twins. However, the third was an outsider. Thrown away from the world and left to fend for himself. Which he did. Not simple when a dark power was gaining strength and power everyday, in which he found that he could be someone. Separate sides of the war. Yet they found themselves in each other.

Fred.
Scabior.
George.

And it worked, their love. Their three-way love.

Scabior posed the question daily, he was despicable, how could they love him? The murder, the unsuccessful attempts of trying to give someone an extra few hours to live and flat out lying as to his whereabouts. They smirked, and took him by the hands to their bedroom.
They just did.
Perhaps, the twins wondered late at night glowing in the aftermath, it was the badass attitude, which they were both suckers for. Perhaps, It was the relief they saw when it was late at night and a warm bed was waiting for him. Or perhaps it was the same as his answer when the pranksters asked "Why us?" in the early morning, to which the snatchers reply would always be "Why bloody not?"


AN: Characters Belong To J.K Rowling. This Is Just A Figment Of My Imagination.