A Cough

It's not during the Halloween feast that he notices, or when George mysteriously disappears during and after dinner, it's when Fred wakes late in the night as his brother climbs meekly and clumsily into his bed hacking up a storm behind a hand clamped tightly to his face.

"George?" He slurs out sleepily, eyes cracking open as he turns to look at his brother, who collapses next to him coughing hard enough his body jerks with the movement, "Hey, you okay?" He props himself up on an elbow and watches as George tears his throat apart and possibly gives himself whiplash as a result.

With teary eyes from the force of coughing, George silently shakes his head and twists Fred's blanket around himself up to the chin, breathing heavily. Fred reaches out to touch his forehead which is hotter than an iron and comes away with his hand drenched in sweat.

"George you're burnin' up." Fred hisses in the darkness, wary of waking anyone else in the room. George shakes his head tiredly, nestling into the pillows, "George come on, let's take you to the hospital wing-"

"N-no… need… need sleep…" It sounded as if he were drunk, and honestly Fred would have laughed if the cause behind his brother's words wasn't a high fever.

"George," Fred prodded his brother's side, "George come on-"

"Shh… mum'll wake up." George whispers, sluggishly moving to grip at the edge of his pillow and nuzzle deeper into it, "She won-won't let me sleep here… Here without medicine… I don't like medicine Fred."

His brother was delirious, he had to be. That was the only reason he would have climbed into Fred's bed to sleep when he was so sick, something they hadn't done since they were alot younger. When was the last time anyway? Age nine with the Flu? No… no it was when Fred had gotten a simple cold and they were eleven. Percy had walked in on them that morning, finding Fred in George's bed instead of his own and holding tight to him like he was a teddy bear instead of his twin.

"You best stop that before you go to Hogwarts," Their older brother had snickered as they woke to his entrance, "Only children can't sleep in their own beds, you'd probably get sent home because they'd think you were to young for something as big kid as school."

Fred cringed now, thinking about it. Normally he and George would never have listened to a prat like Percy but it was a month before school would finally start for them and gosh darn it even they got nervous once in a while! Coupling that with the fact that Fred already felt so horrible thanks to the churning of his stomach and the heat of his forehead and it was easy to talk George into ageeing they couldn't sleep in each other's beds anymore.

Which was to bad for poor George because he quickly came down with what Fred had caught, and spent the first time either of them could remember dealing with the cold alone in his own bed with no one to complain to or hug as his stomach threatened to reject whatever had been forced into it or his head got ready to explode it hurt so bad.

And now, five years later here he was curled up in Fred's bed at Hogwarts coughing violently into his hand and delirious with a fever. All he wanted was some sleep, and some sleep with something familiar and safe beside him when even his own body was hurting him.

Fred groaned, listening as George had begun to snore, what to do? He could just let him sleep here and walk him down in the morning, or he could bully the poor tired thing into going now and risk making a scene as George, unaware of where he really was apparantly, would start loudly protesting and probably wake everyone up.

"H-hey Freddie?" George croaked an octave or two to loud.

Maybe he'd wake everyone up anyway Fred groaned internally.

"Fred…" George poked his brother's arm, "Fred I don't feel good…"

"I can see that George." Fred said patiently, smoothing his brother's bangs out of his face, "We should go to the hospital wing so we can get you better don't you think?"

George appeared to consider it, and as Fred squinted through the darkness he thought he could see how fevered and dull George's eyes looked. Then George shook his head and curled possibly tighter into the sheets, "No… no I don't want the medicine… mum makes yucky medicine."

Fred snorted before he could stop himself, neither of them had used the word "Yucky" since they were eight.

"Alright, alright," Fred sighed, to tired to really move anyway. He laid out on his back, getting comfortable all over again now that half his space is occupied by another and closed his eyes. He'd just begun to drift when shaky fingers latched onto his arm and George pressed against him, coughing weakly as he fell asleep and resting his head against Fred's shoulder.

The next morning Lee would get up, walk across the room towards the bathroom and double back upon seeing both Weasleys in Fred's bed, George holding tight to him as if he were a security blanket and his face dripping in sweat as he breathed heavily. He'd stare at the two a moment, noticing how Fred had somehow intertwined his hand with George's in their sleep and it seemed to reassure his brother.

Then of course he'd poke Fred in the eye until he woke so they could take George to the hospital wing.