A/N: Aaaah, now here we're getting to the good parts. I'm really excited and happy to be working on this part of the story. I hope you all like it! --bows-- You may notice that this arc has a Japanese title… I'm sorry! I realize not everyone knows Japanese, when I wrote this I was just calling it "the Hogsmeade arc", but that really isn't a very good title at all! So, as a result, when it came time to type it up I was stuck! "Kisu to Kizu" is a pun, meaning "kisses and wounds". The pun is that "kisu" and "kizu" would be written with very nearly the same syllabic characters in Japanese… n.n; Eheheh. (That's not very clever, Z!)

So, for all of you who thought that the last chapter was too short, fear not! This one is reaaaaally long. However, this arch is NOT for the faint or fluffy of heart… I don't know why I get a kick out of torturing Fred as much as I do, but… well… --shrug-- I just do! Heh. So, this does come really close to have sex in it, but then it… well… doesn't. Not really, anyway. So. Uhm. Enjoy the pain?

Ah, yes, and I want to thank all of my reviewers! I've gotten so many reviews, demanding me to update…! (That's really amazing!) Doumo arigatou gozaimasu, minna-san! Thank you very much everyone! I really need your encouragement and support… It makes me feel so good when I open up my mailbox and there is even one review waiting for me. n.n (Brings a tear to my eye… --sniffle--) Let's try and make it to one-hundred reviews, shall we? Ganbarre! Good luck!

Chapter 7: Kisu to Kizu

"Oooh, Georgie! Look at this!" Fred hid a look of disgust behind a particularly large bit of confectionary. How could a woman so vapid have gotten into Ravenclaw? Actually, Fred could tell that everything Allison did was a carefully calculated act. George had fallen for it completely. How revolting. They were looking at candy at Allison's behest, though truth be told Fred had wanted some chocolate frogs, anyway. Fred was just waiting until they went to the Three Broomsticks, so he could indulge in large quantities of spiked butterbeer.

Fred snuck a glance at his brother. George had this look of patient tolerance on his face, overlaid by a thin veneer of feigned interest. Ha. Seems like George isn't any more interested in Allison's "finds" than I am. He chuckled. The sound drew George's attention and Fred had to quickly turn away and pretend he found the nutrition label on a jar of Bertie Bott's absolutely absorbing.

"Hey, Fred, let's go to the Shack." George made the suggestion as they exited the shop. Fred stiffened. George must know what the Shack was used for.

"Oooh, but Georgie—" how dare she use a nickname for his George "—It's so scary!" George laughed and Fred rolled his eyes. She probably just didn't want to go with him hanging around. Too bad, Miss McCallister. I'll never let you get close to my darling brother while I'm around.

"Then… you stay here, and we'll go." Fred's head snapped around and he stared hard at George. What was going on here? Allison pouted at being left alone, but soon relented when she knew that she definitely would not be picked over Fred. Fred was certain she could find a way to entertain herself. "Come on, Fred. Let's go." He was only too glad to follow his twin up the long, winding path to the Shrieking Shack.

"George…" Fred hesitated at the doorway. "Why… did you bring me here?" His twin turned and regarded Fred carefully.

"You didn't want Allison to come, so… I figured… you had something to say to me." Fred stared at George. George stared into Fred. The measurement in that glance made Fred shift uncomfortably.

"I—" love you. "I mean—" I always have and always will. "I'm… sorry." George said nothing. "About the way I've been acting lately, I mean." Silence. "Christ George, say something!"

"I'm glad." George's voice came out of the gloom. He turned, and Fred felt his insides melt at the power of that smile that he had never thought to see directed at him again. "Can we go to the Three Broomsticks now?" Fred laughed and said that they could, indeed.

Three hours and far too many drinks later, Fred was happy. A warm golden feeling had settled over him after his third drink. Not even McCallister sitting on his precious brother's lap, covering his face, throat and chest with sloppy, drunken kisses could dim this feeling. George was beautiful, laughing at nothing particularly funny. His eyes were half-lidded with sleepiness, an inebriated smile curving his lips. Soft, full lips… Suddenly, Fred really wanted George. In this state, his mind told him that he could have him.

Fred stood shakily, leaning against the rough wood of the table. "Georgie," he almost whined. "Please, could you come with me?"

What happened next would change them forever.

Fred took George's hand and pulled him up to an empty room. "Georgie, Georgie," Fred said with urgency in his voice. George giggled. "Georgie, I have… I need to…" Without a word more, Fred pressed his mouth over his brother's. George's whole body tensed up and then relaxed. Fred let his tongue roam around inside George's mouth. It was hot, melting Fred down into his base elements, and all of those elements screamed that THIS was heaven; you didn't have to die to get there. Their bodies pushed up against each other. They kissed long enough to almost asphyxiate, and then Fred pulled away, panting. "Georgie, I love you."

"I know, I love you too…" George was bright red, though from the kiss or the alcohol, Fred did not know.

"No, I mean—" his protests were silenced with a fierce kiss from George. All he wanted to do was take him, claim him, make him his forever. Fred's hands went up underneath George's shirt, caressing the soft, smooth flesh. George's body still smacked of youth, with a slender but ill-defined chest. To Fred, it was the most beautiful thing to ever have been created. George's breathing became heavier. It was becoming difficult for Fred to contain himself to just kissing George's mouth. Long, calloused fingers moved over George's back, around his shoulders and to his chest, where they drew lazy, concentric circles around his nipples. "Georgie," Fred murmured into the mouth of his twin. "Oh, Georgie, you're beautiful." George only panted in reply. Hesitating only a little, Fred drew back and rid the both of them of their shirts. George's breath caught and his blood quickened. Fred's chest, hard and smooth, was faintly dotted with burn scars, healing scratches and wounds in rainbow colours. With his hair falling over eyes staring so intently, there was a fierceness in him that made him all the more attractive.

Fred moved forward and placed a hot, lingering kiss just below George's ear, on his throat, at his collarbone. His lips grazed George's skin as they traveled down his chest, lingered over pink nipples. Fred let the edges of his teeth run along the defenseless bud of flesh, making George groan above him.

"Mmm… do that again." George purred. "Only a thousand times harder." Fred hesitated.

"I don't… I mean, it's going to hurt, do you…?" George nodded vigorously. Fred was only too happy to oblige. His twin arched his back and made a delicious noise in his throat. Fred's tongue traced a line along the center of George's body down to the waistband of his pants, then back up to his waiting mouth.

"Oh Freddy," George gasped. "Fuck me." The two words jarred Fred, knocked him from his pleasant daydream. He was all at once very aware that George was amazingly drunk. To have sex with him now would be taking advantage of him. Could he really violate his own dearest brother, possibly harming him irreparably, just because George was intoxicated enough to let him?

"No," Fred said softly, thought he had meant to be much more forceful. Gently, slowly, he disentangled himself from a rather confused George. "No, I won't."

"Why?" George pushed himself against Fred once more, trying to kiss his neck again. Fred pushed him away, noticing now that his breath smelled of alcohol. "Don't you want me, Freddy?"

Fred swallowed hard. "Yes, Georgie, very much." It was almost a whisper.

"Then do me!" George made a grab for Fred, who pulled roughly away. Again George tried, and this time Fred pushed him into the wall.

"No!" Fred's voice was rough.

"You'll do it with God only knows how many of them, but not with me?" George lunged, Fred pushed away even harder than before.

"Stop it!" he shouted. "Stop!" George looked bewildered and angry. "I won't! I won't have you!" Fred's voice cracked. "Not like this!" Fred dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. When he drew them away, he turned his eyes on George. George was so damned drunk. Fred could see it now, in the unsteady way that he leaned against the wall and the bleariness of his gaze. He could see it, and it hurt. "Georgie," he begged, as George sat down on a nearby chair. Fred collapsed on his knees and placed his forehead onto George's lap. "Georgie, Georgie." His face, buried in George's leg. Fred lifted his head and stared pleadingly into his twin's face. One rough hand reached up to tenderly stroke that face. "I…care about you, George, so much, but the only time you'll come to me is when you're so drunk you can barely see straight. That hurts, Georgie! It hurts…" Fred hid his face in George's lap once more. What was he even saying? "I try, and I try… but you, you…! I'm trying… so hard…" Fred only realized that he had been crying when he stopped.

Fred pushed himself up. "I'm sorry, Georgie…" That display had been dangerous, and had cost him much. The horror of how close he had been to saying what must not be said dawned upon him then. There, in that empty, settling room, with its shabby furniture smelling faintly of piss and alcohol despite the staff's best efforts, Fred had nearly divulged the secretive darkness that grew in his wicked heart to that most precious person. George… George was looking at him. Oh, oh no… Had he said too much? What would he do if… if… What if…

A hand. Trembling, feather-light, but still the touch of a hand on his face. George's hand.

That dark, forbidden desire leaned forward and placed the softest kiss in all history on his lips. Startled, Fred did nothing at first. It was only when George deepened the kiss that Fred could act, responding at first with enthusiasm but then breaking off, puzzlement showing plainly on his face. George sighed in frustration. "I think you're beautiful, and I want you. I really, really want you. Can't I have you?" When Fred said nothing, George took that as an invitation and laid a lingering kiss upon his neck.

It was George now who became the aggressor, taking control and unbuttoning Fred's jeans. He moved with almost painful hesitancy and slowness, as if he thought that he would frighten Fred away. It was both unfathomably touching and immensely irritating at once, for while Fred really just wanted George to touch him, and NOW, it made his heart clench to think of what his care might mean. When George's fingers brushed up against Fred's hard cock, Fred had to bite back a gasp. George almost misinterpreted this as fear rather than pleasure, but when he made to move his hand, Fred stayed him. Need burned in his eyes as he held George's gaze. He wanted this touch, more than he had ever desired or could desire anything else. "George," was all that Fred said, but it gave George the incentive to continue.

Time bent and buckled, and Fred soon found himself engulfed in the wet, silken tunnel of George's throat. It was almost too much to bear; Fred's fingers scrabbled for something to hold onto but found no purchase on the smooth wall. Instead, George's own warm hands grabbed his. Fred clutched at them tightly. The motion of George's tongue against him, the faint feel of George's hair against his belly, even just the heat that radiated off of his twin, these were the things that he dreamt of, night after night. When he came, it was as if all the loneliness and pain of the past left him as well.

George drew away and they kissed languorously. I love you, I love you, I love you. Every part of Fred's body hummed with the sentiment. George's hands were in his hair; their chests pressed close… Fred had found heaven, had found ecstasy, had found…

"…George?"

They broke apart and turned their heads. In the doorway stood Allison.

A/N: Haha, what a cliffhanger, eh? Ooooh, but wait until you see what I have lined up for this arc… I'm such an evil, evil person! Poor Freddy, to be my plaything… Anyway, I hope the length wasn't too much of a burden… I know a lot of you are probably foaming at the mouths now going, "What the hell! That wasn't a sex scene—why, that was barely even a frickin' BLOWJOB!" And I know. I'm actually not very good at writing sex scenes, so I'm going to dither around and put it off until the last possible second. I'm afraid you must simply be patient—it's not easy when you start blushing even though no one is around, you know. So, everyone, please… R&R, and I'll see YOU next chapter!