A/N: Here I am, once more, with chapter three! Oh, I really do love these boys. My head is just stuffed full of things for them to do and say. 3 Most amusing. Hey, a good series for those of you that like both smexy boylovin' and fantasy: Mercedes Lackey's series about Vanyel Ashkevron (those of my readers who already know Lackey's Valdemar novels will know this name), Magic's Pawn, Magic's Price and Magic's Promise. I'm not sure if they're in that order, but I do know that if you look hard enough you can find them all collected together into a single novel. Vanyel is very, very pretty and angsty and VERY gay. It's lovely. He attempts suicide several times! Yay! The first book is darling and tragic, the middle book is good but not as, and the final novel is simply marvelous, though the ending could have been more satisfying. (Then again, I always hate endings—I want books to go one forever. Haha.) But I do prattle on and on, don't I? Here's where I thank my lovely reviewers:
L'Arc-en-Ciel: You are named after one of my most favouritest bands, I think I'm in love.
Bookworm: The inner thoughts are a must. We all know how sixteen year old boys think… wicked grin And you reviewed twice! Yay!
Ilovefredgeorgesugar: First of all, I love YOUR stories, so it's cool that you like mine. 3 Thanks, you reviewed twice! I love repeat reviewers. It keeps me in touch.
Shellbert: Hmm, it seems everyone loves those! Haha. 3 Arigatou gozaimasu! AND you reviewed twice! Whee!
BlackOwl892006: I shall.
Jack: THANK YOU! I was hoping it did; I have a problem with that as there are so many things that I want to happen that I tend to skip over the logical, flow-adding parts in between…
Starry Veil: Hmm, really? It's a good thing I don't write to please reviewers (entirely). I happen to think melodramatic smoking boys are sexy, sooo… Deal with it?
Nanashi: Hmm, why are all my reviewers so… concise?
Thequeeneb: Thank you! Yay!
Name Pen: 0o That's uhm… a bit odd-ish. Cool though. Yay, I'm not suck!
And for all those who read and didn't review: shame on you! Really though, I love you all. 3 Ahh, my adoring public… Maybe, if you are very good, I'll draw you a doujinversion of this. . (For those of you who are not manga fans--you should be, do you have any idea how much slash you could get in the form of PICTURES?—doujinare "indie" comics in Japan, generally like fanfiction but with pictures. Cool, ne?)
Onward!
Chapter Three: This Place You Have Created
Fred returned, the cigarette left behind but the knowledge that he would return to that somber place and find another hung in the air around him. Lee and George were still there, talking excitedly amongst themselves while they went over the notes Fred had been so laboriously taking only moments before. They did not look up when he came in.
He stood for a moment in the doorway, just watching them. Every few seconds one would laugh or smile or some little gesture indicating that their worlds were still intact. Both of them looked so… happy. It gave Fred the strangest feeling, seeing George smile. He was both delighted that George was happy, and unfathomably sad that George was not smiling at him. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he found another cigarette. He didn't know where it had come from, but that was the thing about Hogwarts in general: things just appeared when you wanted them. He lit it without saying anything. (Fred was fairly certain that there was no smoking allowed in the common rooms, but surprisingly in Griffindor it had never come up. No one that he knew of in the house smoked, and at the very least they didn't enough to want to smoke inside.)
The smoke eventually drifted over to the boys, and Lee wrinkled up his nose. "Hey, what's that—" Looking up, there was Fred. "Fred, you're, er, back." Fred nodded, keeping his eyes on George. His twin turned around with something like hesitation, and stopped when he saw Fred.
"I didn't know you smoked," George said, quietly. His eyes fixed on Fred. Oh, those eyes, those silent accusers, those beautiful… Fred looked away, and as he did so he realized he had never been unable to keep George's gaze before.
"I didn't either," Fred attempted to put some sort of smile on his face while he said this, but it came out a sickly, stillborn thing so he quickly let it drop. For a long time, there was an awkward silence in the room. "So… McCallister?" It was Fred who finally broke the silence. George got that sick look on his face again and shrugged. Clearly, he did not want to discuss Allison. Fred wasn't going to give him the luxury. "She's cute," Fred offered, and George shrugged again as if to say, "I guess so." A long drag on his cig. "Fucked her yet?" he asked, surprised at the bitterness that showed through in his voice. George looked shocked.
"Fred! I only asked her out two hours ago!" George seemed angry. Good. Did I strike a nerve, Georgie? I hope so.
"So? Everyone knows that girl's an easy lay…" God, another nail in his coffin, another drag. "Isn't that why you asked her out?" At this, George stood and strode over to Fred, who blew smoke in his brother's face. For a moment, they just stood like this, barely inches apart, breath warming each other's faces. "Isn't it…" Fred said, softly. It wasn't a question, really. George did not reply, and Fred could not stay any longer. "I'm… going to take a shower. Or… something." Abruptly, he turned away and went up the stairs. Fred had originally intended to make good on his statement, until he heard the other people in there already. Damned communal showers. Couldn't he wallow in his misery in peace? So, instead he bypassed the showers for his own warm, soft, safe bed. (Warm, but empty… Empty of whom? It felt like himself, but not himself at all.) Underneath his pillows was his CD player; he pulled it out and put in Arcade Fire's Funeral. It helped perpetuate this self-pitying mood he was in.
"Fred." It was George.
(They say it fades if you let it, love was made to forget it…)
"George." Silence, then.
(I carved your name across my eyelids; you pray for rain, I pray for blindness…)
It lasted a long time, George standing at the foot of Fred's bed, Fred just watching George. Neither understood the other, and so was at a loss for what to say. They wanted to understand, and be understood, so desperately that it almost came across as a shout (PLEASE, KNOW MY HEART SO THAT I WON'T HAVE TO…)
"Fred, I…" Fred knew then, by the tone in George's voice, that he wanted to talk about Allison. Moments ago, he hadn't wanted to say anything, and now he wanted to explain? No. It would not be allowed.
"Bugger off, George." George's eyes were round, and hurt. Never before had they used such harsh language with each other. "Just… just fuck off." Fred did not look at George. George could not look at Fred. In the end, Fred counted to twenty-three and George walked away while he did so. All Fred saw was the ceiling, and the trail of smoke from his outstretched hand.
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A/N: I'm not sure I like this chapter. In fact, I know I don't. But I didn't want to make you wait for an update, so you guys get this shitty chapter instead of an actually good one. Also, don't hate me as our boys will only get worse before they get better. It has to be that way. I'll shut up now.