Chapter IV: Falsehood
Harry and Fred spent the remainder of the class period lying silently together in the classroom. Fred occassionally stroked Harry's raven black hair, but other than that they were still and pensive. Harry was absorbed in his own thoughts of how this had happened so suddenly. He had never felt anything for Fred, his best friend's older brother, until that one moment when he heard him say how afraid he was- or how afraid Lee was, supposedly- and that was when Harry knew that he was afraid of being alone, too, and that together the idea of lonliness would never come across their minds again.
Fred however, thought only of what was going to happen when people found out. Or worse, if no one ever found out. What if Harry treated him the same when they were around their friends? What if he didn't speak to him at all anymore, except for when they lay in eachother's sweet embrace? What would his parents say? What would George say? And what would happen when he left after his seventh year? Harry was still only fifteen, two years younger than his own age. Could he trust Harry alone?
Or would Harry decide he didn't want to waste his life on someone like Fred, who was poor and unambitious about anything but his dream of a jokeshop. But then, hadn't Harry been the one to supply him with the gold? Had Harry always felt this way?
"Harry," Fred began, hoping to ease his doubts.
Harry took Fred's hand and without even looking at him and said, "I love you, Fred."
Fred took his hand and held it against his face, savoring the feeling of the smooth male hand against his skin. The questioning thoughts all died away and Fred accepted what was to come. He lay back down against Harry.
"Do you love me?" Harry asked softly.
Fred hesitated, "I don't know." he answered quietly.
Harry brushed his hand through his ginger hair, "Well take your time," he wrapped his arm under Fred and pulled him closer, "We've got all the time in the world."
George wandered throughout the hallway in anxiety, wondering where on earth his twin could be. If he had decided to skip Transfiguration he would have told him, he was sure of that. He must have fallen ill, but he wasn't in the hospital wing either. Perhaps Filch had caught him- i Doing what, exactly? /i he muttered to himself. Fred hadn't anything up his sleeves- In fact, lately he had become withdrawn and passive. George pondered if this disappearence could have anything to do with his sudden change of heart.
He quickened his pace, beads of sweat beginning to form upon his brow. A light appeared at the end of the corridor and he knew he had found his brother. i This ought to be good... /i The thing was, George didn't know whether to be amused or frightened. He made his way to the door, his hand slipping with frantic perspiration along the cool knob. He opened it briskly, turning from side to side until he saw the face of his twin, his own face staring back at him with identical fear and confusion.
"Fred!" George stopped, feeling as though he had just interrupted something. But what that could be he couldn't imagine, "Why... Why aren't you in class? Are you all right?"
Fred cleared his throat, saying exactly what he had rehearsed on his way to seek out Harry, "Harry fell ill. I got him out of potions. He didn't feel up to the walk to the hospital wing."
George's anticipation remained high. Fred's words seemed stiff, unnatural... i practiced /i , even.
Harry cleared his throat and George noticed him for the first time, "'Lo, George," the boy said tiredly, and even that seemed false.
"What's wrong with him?" George asked, entirely unconcerned with Harry's health. He knew a lie when he heard one, and the intimacy of Fred and Harry had startled him, the way they sat side by side, as if two puzzle pieces created simply for the purpose of fitting together.
"My scar."
"Well maybe-"
Fred stood up, "Listen, George, you better go."
George frowned, "Why?"
"You're missing out on Transfiguration. McGonnagal will be a nightmare when you get back. What was your excuse, anyways?"
"I didn't have an excuse," he said smoothly, a triumphant smile sliding over his face, positive Fred would let him in on a little secret now, "Class is over. It was over twenty minutes ago."
"Well then you're missing another class."
"You of all people should know we never stay for History of Magic," George was beginning to feel hurt now, "What's going on? Won't you tell me?"
Fred looked him hardly in the eye, "Nothing. Just go."
"All right," George left, an unpleasent feeling beginning to grow at the pit of his stomach.
Lee Jordan sat outside, basking in the sunlight that had become rare at Hogwarts. His Defense Against the Dark Arts essay sat unfinished on his lap. The untidy three sentences glared at him from the parchment as a reminder to get back to work, but he ignored it the best he could. It was a beautiful, peaceful day. Perfect for spending alone on the grounds.
" i Lee Jordan /i ," came a cold, drawling voice.
Lee sighed. So much for peace and quiet.
"I thought I'd find you out here." The owner of the voice appeared- A lean, pale boy with a pointed, bored looking face and a surprisingly light hair color when placed next to Lee's.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Lee asked flatly, obviously uninterested.
Draco sneered at him, "I thought you'd like to know that I overhead something interesting about you this morning."
"Oh did you? I wasn't aware you could comprehend other people's conversations when you're occupied with skulking about in the dark," He wrinkled his nose comically at the Slytherin, "No wonder you're so pale."
The confident, leering smirk didn't falter at all and Lee began to ponder over what exactly Malfoy had heard.
"Very funny. And they say faggot's haven't got a sense of humor."
Lee shot up, tense, " b What /b did you say, you little-"
"I thought that would get your attention," Malfoy said smugly. He sat down in front of Lee, sensing his anger happily, "I heard your little friends talking about your..." he searched for the phrase slowly, enjoying his control over Lee, "Your preference of what team you like to play on."
"Malfoy, if you're calling me gay-"
"I i am /i calling you gay, but not without good reason. I was outside, getting ready to practice Quidditch when I heard your dear Weasley friend telling Potter that you were... Well, you know," Draco's smile grew broader as Lee's mouth dropped open.
"George would never say that!"
"Oh, but he did, Jordan. And now I think I'm going to go say it as well."
"No one will believe you," he said, more bravely than he felt, "I'm not gay! Everyone knows Angelina and I are an item."
Draco laughed and shook his head in mock sympathy, "I'm dreadfully, i dreadfully /i sorry, Jordan... But I think the whole school's got the right to know what sort of people we have lurking about the castle-"
Lee grabbed the boy by the collar, "You say one word and I swear I'll fucking hex you so bad they'll take you for fucking dead."
Malfoy's bright grey eyes darkened with a tint of fear, "You wouldn't-"
He tigthened his grip, certain he could break Malfoy in two this moment if he wanted, "Don't tell me what I would or wouldn't do, you fucking bastard. You cunt, I swear I'll fuck you up so badly..." he trailed off in rage and pushed him away from him, sinking his foot between his ribs as he did so. Draco landed heavily on the ground, his face, once so calm and superior, now twisted in pain.
"Stop-"
"No! You fucking want to mess with me?" Lee kicked Malfoy over on his side, the purest form of anger over taking him, "If you're going to come around here and try and fuck me over, then I'm going to-"
"LEE! STOP IT, LEE!"
Lee turned, sweating and cursing, as George came running towards him, "LEE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING- Bloody hell, look at him!" Lee did so. The satisfaction died as he saw what was once a threatening enemy transformed into a small, beaten, frail teenage boy.
George stared at him in disbelief, "What happened? What did he do?"
"No, George," Lee stepped closer his friend, preparing to fight again, "It's what you did."
"What?" he asked blankly, "Lee, I didn't do anything!"
"Well then why did Malfoy come over and tell me he heard you telling Harry this morning that I was... that I was... Well you know since you said it!"
George blocked Lee's arm as he tried to hit him, "What did I say? I didn't even see Harry until just awhile ago! He was sitting in some classroom with Fred..." his gaze turned into a concerned one, "Tell me, Lee."
Lee blushed furiously and turned away, "Malfoy said you were telling Harry I was gay."
"I did i not! /i "
"You didn't?" Lee asked the twin, desperate to know the truth.
"No! Why would I go and say something as stupid as that?"
"I don't know..." he laughed it off, feeling all right again. George hadn't said anything-
But what made him so certain it had been George who had said it?
