"Don't you see? It's simple!" the ginger bounded from his chair into the other man's lap. "You and me – we'll just get out of here and no one has to know!"

"No one has to know," the Death Eater replied sarcastically. "And George?"

Cupping Barty's face, Fred shook his head. "No," he replied quietly. "Not even George has to know." He leaned down and kissed him softly. "I've spent all my life thinking that George would be the only person that would understand me and," he kissed the tip of Barty's nose, "turns out I was wrong." Wrapping his arms around Barty's neck, Fred leaned in and smelled the familiar smell of Barty's shirt. "You and me. Everyone else doesn't matter."

He pulled Fred up by the back of his shirt and stared at him blankly. "You don't think if a professor randomly vanished and a student vanished they wouldn't go looking for them? Seriously, Fredrick, what would people think?"

After pondering for a moment, Fred's serious expression broke out into a grin. "Lucky professor?"

"No, Fredrick," he rested his head in his palm. "I told you months ago that what we have here is wrong."

"I know-"

"And that it would just be easier, for both of us, if you just … forgot we ever met." He looked up and saw Fred nod sadly. "Oh, Fredrick," he started again. "I didn't mean-"

"Fine," Fred hopped out of his lap. "Then do it."

"What?" Barty's eyed widened. "No, Fredrick, I-"

"Do it," Fred crossed his arms. "I'm only in your way, right?"

"Fredrick-"

"If I'm not in your way, prove it," Fred leaned against the desk, cocking his head to the side. "Prove that I'm not just a waste of space."

"I love you," Barty blurted out rather messily.

"You pardon me?" Fred's jaw dropped.

Barty nodded. "You stepped into my office and I felt disgusted with myself for letting you stay. And it felt wrong, you staying here. And I was confused as to why I let you back every time. And then, a month or so ago, I realized – I absolutely adore you. I love you, Fredrick." He hadn't even taken a breath before Fred's lips were pressed against his own. "I love you," he mumbled against Fred's lips. "I really do, Fredrick."

"Okay," Fred whispered, planting soft kisses on Barty's cheek. "Okay, then," he nodded once. "Okay." Trying to control the silly grin on his face, Fred spoke softly. "Then you and me, Barty. We're going to get out of here. And they won't ever find us."

"How?" Barty touched his well-kissed bottom lip and furrowed his brow. "Fredrick," he pulled his sleeve down and exposed his wrist. "I'm branded for life. No matter where I go or what I do, Fredrick, he can find me."

"There has to be something," Fred's voice cracked. "You can get rid of it, right?"

"I don't know, Fredrick," Barty murmured. "It's a brand. It's something that isn't supposed to wear away or fade. It's a symbol of my devotion to The Dark Lord. I can't just get rid of it."

"Well," Fred rubbed his cheek in deep thought. "There's got to be someone smarter than old Voldemort who can-"

"Please don't' say his name," Barty winced slightly.

"Oh," Fred nodded. "Well, You-Know-Who. There's got to be someone smarter than him who could help us." Fred went through a list of people he knew. "My father-"

"Would have me thrown back in Azkaban," Barty pursed his lips. "And after he's heard about you and me? He'll think I had you under Imperius and that I… that… that this-"

"Okay, okay," Fred nodded. "I guess that rules out my mother as well."

"Fredrick," Barty tried to sound calm as he sat back in his chair. "If you want your family to be safe, you won't bring them into this."

"Right," Fred nodded and started chuckling to himself.

"What?" Barty looked up, grinning at the sound of Fred's laugh.

His chuckle now evolved into full, uproarious laughter, Fred spoke quickly. "I was about to say, 'Let's ask Harry what to do'." With a thud, Fred's body met the unforgiving floor.

"You deserved that."

"I know."

The rest of the evening went similarly. Naming person after person and wondering if they could help. And although some brilliant minds were brought to the table, it was clear that they would not be interested in helping or they were dead.

"Merlin," the ginger sighed.

"He's very dead, Fredrick."

"I meant- oh nevermind."

By one o'clock that night, they had migrated to Barty's room and curled up underneath his heavy quilt. "There's one person I keep thinking of, but I don't think he'd help." Fred yawned into the quilt.

"Oh?" Barty wrapped his arm around the sleepy ginger and pulled him against his side. "Who is that?"

"'Um'l'o," Fred yawned loudly. Shaking his head to stay awake, he spoke again. "I mean, Dumbledore."

"Fredrick-"

"No, no, hear me out!" The exhaustion in his voice was the only think Barty could hear. "Barty-"

"Fredrick," he fit his arm under him and held him close, kissing his forehead. "Tell me tomorrow, okay? Right now, you need to sleep. Understood?"

Silence.

"Understood?"

Silence.

"Fredrick?"

A light snoring came from the other form in the bed. Barty watched as Fred's freckled nose scrunched up slightly with every breath he took. His hair, no matter how many times Barty teased him about it, was his favourite. It was vibrant and in the light, went slightly blonde at the tips. And it was never greasy or stringy, but always messy. As if he had just rolled out of bed and decided that a comb was too much effort. He remembered the first time his fingers twirled Fred's hair around them. Their first kiss. A feeling had shot through his body that night. Like a cold shower or a hand on the stove. It was quick, painful and it was something he couldn't quite explain. Months later, he knew.

"Goodnight, Barty," Fred pecked him on the cheek. "Don't forget, we have a pop quiz tomorrow."

He laughed loudly. "Aren't I supposed to be reminding you, Fredrick?"

Shaking his head, Fred grabbed Barty by the hair and kissed him softly. "Goodnight."

Barty watched that mop of ginger hair run out into the darkness of the hallway and disappear behind a tapestry. He imagined him, briefly, running out from the wall and throwing his arms around him, kissing him again and prolonging their goodbye. He felt his ears grow hot at the thought of seeing Fred again. His stomach knotted tightly and he felt lightheaded. "Bollocks."

--

"Oh, shit," Fred bolted out of the bed, throwing the quilt on top of Barty.

"Good morning to you too," Barty laughed, pressing the quilt around him to see Fred. "What's wrong?"

"I need my books," Fred muttered, pulling his trainers on.

"I see," Barty pulled the covers up to his chin and grinned. "Well, I'll see you later then?"

"Mhmm," Fred threw himself on top of the Death Eater and grinned. "Oh, did you mean in class or did you mean later tonight?"

"Both," Barty grinned up at him. "Both will suffice."

Fred leaned down, running his hand through Barty's hair and kissing him slowly. He felt Barty's breath hitch when he slid his tongue against his. "Try not to miss me too much, yeah?"

Nodding slowly, trying to unscramble his brain from the assault on his mouth, Barty spoke. "Er, yes. I'll make sure not to miss you." He grinned and pulled Fred against him again. "You have my class first-"

"Yes," Fred grinned.

"Would it kill you to be late?" Barty said quickly, running his hands up Fred's thighs.

"N-No," Fred grinned. "But don't take away points. This was, after all, your idea."

"Alright, Fredrick," he whispered happily. "But after that, you'll go about your day; you'll have dinner and then come back here?"

"Mhmm," Fred said, kicking his shoes off. "And we'll go back to trying to think of who could help?"

He pulled Fred by the backs of his knees, adjusting him on top of his hips. "Yes," he nodded. "We'll find someone."

"Promise?" Fred said, his limbs tangled in his shirt.

Tugging his shirt off, Barty laughed. "Promise."