Getting close to the end! Thanks for sticking with the story. I didn't realize this would be the size of a book when I started it.

George closed the door before sitting down across from Fred. He sat on the ground, putting them on even footing in the stuffy room. Fred felt ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty all at once. He kept his gaze down, unable to look at George, afraid of what he'd see on his brother's face. The look of betrayal that had haunted his imagination for too long would be too much to bear if he finally saw it.

Fred swallowed the lump in his throat. "I never wanted to hurt you," he pushed out, his voice trembling. "I never made a move or anything. I wouldn't do that to you." But he almost had, his mind reminded him, sending the guilt stabbing deeper. If the Ministry auror hadn't interrupted…well that was a path he didn't want to consider.

"But you do love her, don't you?" The uncertainty in George's voice rang loud and clear.

Fred straightened his head, the crick in his neck screaming for mercy. "I thought you knew. Why else ask?"

"I wish I could say I still know you so well that I know everything, but in truth I wasn't sure. I had my guesses, noticed a few things. Almost every night at the Ministry I wondered if I was mad to leave you two alone. I knew Lucy got under your skin, but I wasn't sure why until then." George crossed his legs, keeping them out straight. The bottom of his shoes nearly brushed against Fred's. "The exact moment it clicked, I was making coffee for me and Dad because he came to have breakfast with me at the Ministry. He was asking about you and one of his questions about whether or not you were dating again just…made everything fall into place. The realization startled me so much I spilled the coffee all over my shoes."

Fred took a shuddering breath. A recent realization was better than George waiting around to see if Fred would betray him. "I never did anything sleezy. Just ask her." If he had, he could picture her stealing his wand a second time. As quiet and shy as she sometimes came off, all that disappeared when she got worked up. The way she'd flown at the last Death Eater had shown the hidden spitfire in her.

"I believe you," George murmured. "Lucy would have told me if you had. I just want to make sure I'm not going to have to fight you over her."

Fred shook his head. "Never. You are more important to me than any woman and I don't want to give you any reason to doubt me."

"But it is eating you up, isn't it? You've been bothered lately and avoiding being home as much as possible." George searched Fred's face, his eyes crinkling as he tried to divine the truth.

"God yes," Fred admitted, and it felt good to be able to confess that. "I feel like the worst brother in the world but no matter how hard I try I can't get myself to focus on someone else. I wish I could just magic away the feelings. A reverse love potion or something." He was half willing to believe someone had cursed him at this point. Lose the woman who'd once been the love of his life only to then fall for his brother's girlfriend? It was a true nightmare of a romantic life.

"She wouldn't be the first girl we both liked. Remember that one girl on the Hufflepuff team? She had to have been at least four years older than us, but we were both enamored when we watched her play and hold her own against the Slytherin team our first year at Hogwarts." He slid his jacket off and folded it, letting it rest on his lap. Then he rolled up the sleeves of his plain white shirt. "I wish you'd quit pulling away. Talk to me instead of keeping things to yourself. All you do is beat yourself up."

"How can I not when I have a crush on my brother's girlfriend?" Fred said, his voice rising a note. "It makes me feel like the biggest arsehole in the world."

"Love isn't something you can control. But is it just a crush, or is it more than that?"

The question wasn't comfortable to think about. It was all he could do to not squirm. "I don't know. I've been focused on trying not to feel anything at all." He glanced up and found George staring at him, squinting as if trying to see the truth. Fred nervously fiddled with his tie, twisting it back and forth in his hand. A child's squeal of delight drifted in from the shop floor, but he was in no position to enjoy it. "Despite all the rude teasing I gave her, she still reached out to me in a way. It felt good opening up to her without feeling judged. It felt like she saw me without seeing you too."

"I can understand that. Falling for her was so easy. But do you know what the worst part about this is?" George asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

Fred couldn't bring himself to ask.

George continued when Fred didn't respond, "It is terrifying to think we've drifted apart enough that I couldn't tell you were falling in love. I want my brother back."

Hot tears pricked the corners of Fred's eyes. His throat burned. "I'm sorry," he said his voice cracking around the words.

"Then quit hiding things from me. Let me in. We can be a team again like the old days." He leaned forward. "Please?"

Fred wanted to cling to George and cry. To apologize for all the trouble he'd caused over the years if only he could find the right words. His hands trembled as he struggled to hold his emotions back. If he let himself turn into a crying mess now, he wouldn't be able to talk.

"At least tell me why you pulled away. Because of the Death Eater you saved me from? I'm forever grateful, but I don't want what you had to do to haunt you."

Fred wiped at his eyes. "It was the way everyone treated me after the battle, like I was a kid who needed delicate handling. Everyone tried to avoid discussing what happened and it is hard to discuss something when no one wants to talk about it with you. Whenever mentions of the battle couldn't be avoided, everyone would look at me with pity." Remembering hurt. The silence made him feel like needed to hide what he'd done to save George. "And compared to those who lost someone, it didn't seem fair for me to complain. Everyone tiptoed around me and at times it made me think everyone might be afraid or ashamed of me. It was easier to keep to myself and ignore it all. Over time it became a habit."

George slid across the floor and yanked him into a hug, pulling Fred against his chest. "You can tell me anything any time. I'll always be here to listen. Just quit pulling away, okay?"

Fred nodded against his brother's chest. They sat there for several minutes, Fred's tears soaking into George's shirt while his brother rubbed his back.

"Do you want me to sing 'You Are My Sunshine' to you like Mum used to do to all of us?"

Fred choked out a laugh. "Please don't." He sat up, the faucet of tears slowing. "I'd rather you tell me what I'm supposed to do now."

"I don't know. I've considered a few options, but your odds aren't looking too good if you flirt by putting girls in headlocks."

"I'll try to find a new way to pick up chicks." He leaned back against the wall.

George rubbed at the stubble on his chin. By the looks of things he hadn't shaved that morning. Knowing him Fred guessed he'd been too eager to get out of the Ministry to stop to shave. "Well figure something out, but you need to figure out how you really feel."

"What does that matter? She's yours."

"What if she could be yours too? You're the only person I wouldn't mind sharing with. Nothing wrong spending my days with the two people I care most about."

"That's bloody mad. I just need space from her and I'll move on." He pulled his tie off. She only had eyes for George and he needed to learn to live with that.

"And if you don't?"

"I will." He couldn't see any other option. "But I can't live with the both of you. If you want her to move in you have my blessing, but give me a heads up so I can find a place of my own first."

"Fine. But I think you need to quit running from your feelings."

Lucy stared out her living room window. The puddles leftover from the morning rain sparkled in the sunlight. Living on her own again proved to be a lonely week. The flat felt too quiet. George spent the night at least twice the past week, but all it did was accent how lonely the other nights were. She missed eating breakfast with George, having Sparky sleep at the bottom of her bed, and even listening to Fred mumble to himself while he scratched away at his sketchbook or talked to the cat. Her place felt dead in comparison.

She grabbed her shoes and umbrella. She felt like the only loser with no Saturday plans. Oli was at an away game and the quidditch match with friends had been canceled due to too many players being out of town. George was out with friends today, which left her alone and the last thing she wanted to do was sit inside staring out the window all day.

Her right foot stepped in a puddle that soaked her foot, but she didn't mind as long as she got to be outside. It was better than feeling cooped up. The first hour after getting home from work was heaven in the peace and quiet of the flat, but after that it felt like too much. Last night she'd opted to make a meat pie for dinner and all it did was put Fred in her head. She missed him almost as much as George, something she never expected. Living with him had made her accustomed to having him around, and living alone made it feel like there were two holes now instead of just a George-shaped one. It felt absolutely confusing. She was only supposed to feel this way about George and only George. She certainly wouldn't call any of the recent events between her and Fred romantic.

She sidestepped around a deep puddle to keep her left foot dry, and her mind once again thought about Fred. He'd been right about the Death Eater. If she'd killed him, she'd have regretted it, but in that moment the thought had been on her mind and it felt like Fred was the only one who could understand and now…now she felt like she understood him better.

And George, she felt like something he didn't want to talk about had happened at the Ministry. Sometimes he would give her that look that meant there was something he wanted to talk about. He'd open his mouth, hesitate, and then not speak. She was trying to be patient. To give him time to open up on his own timeline. Who was she to judge when she hadn't been able to put into words what had passed between her and Fred yet.

The past week she kept finding herself drawn to Fred like a moth to a flame. Each time she found herself a step away and staring at him, she'd blurt out a stupid question much to his amusement to avoid what was really on her mind. Anything from "where'd you get that tie?" to "do you think it's going to rain today?" when obvious rain clouds hung outside the window ready to open up any minute, earning her his smirk. She wanted to ask about his past more. To tell him she wanted him to stop hurting, but anything she thought of sounded too cheesy. He always met her answers with quips and nothing more. Like yesterday when he'd picked up lunch for them all and she found herself staring at him across the counter unable to find any words other than, "How are you?" and he'd answered, "Wet" before plopping her food onto the counter. She'd felt dumb afterward, beating herself up for not thanking him for the food instead or saying anything else that didn't make her sound like a total idiot. She just couldn't figure out how to address their last Death Eater encounter.

She stepped into the tea shop, the display of chocolate-covered fruits and the advertisement for a breakfast sandwich catching her eye. Her stomach gurgled. She'd been so busy sulking in self pity over having no plans that she'd forgotten to eat breakfast. She'd get a croissant sandwich, she decided. The croissant ones were the best, so flaky and buttery compared to the crumbly English muffins. She headed for her usual corner of the shop, spotting a red head who'd already stolen her spot. Fred. She stopped in her tracks, doing a double take. Yep, it was definitely Fred poring over his sketchbook.

He looked up, a breakfast sandwich crammed into his mouth, when she took the cushion across from him. His eyes narrowed as he chewed and swallowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me but this was my spot first," she said, a sassy note in the words. "I should be asking you that question. You even stole my favorite table."

His forehead creased as he considered her argument. "Fair enough." He picked up a stick of charcoal and returned to his sketchbook. She watched him, breaking only to order herself a sandwich and some tea.

A couple headed out the door, the man holding it wide open while a gust of wind blew inside. Fred's cologne floated to her. "You smell like mountains." Oh god, there she went again, blurting out dumb things. Even her butterflies over George hadn't turned her into such an idiot. Would handling Fred ever be easy?

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Okaaaay," he said.

"Your cologne, I mean." She'd never noticed the cologne much before and damn it for making her babble. It was different than what George wore. George's made her think of book shops and tea. Fred's made her think of mountains and him rock climbing. Shirtless. Something she definitely should not be thinking about.

He sniffed his shirt. "I think it's called spring air or something more nonsensical. You know how they are with perfume and cologne names, gotta make them sound pretentious."

"I guess so." She wrinkled her nose at his breakfast sandwich. An English muffin, nowhere near as good as a croissant bun. She dug into her breakfast, sneaking a peek at his sketchbook lying on the table. Several shop ads adorned the page including a concept for a new open/closed sign. "Shouldn't you be taking the day off?"

He shrugged. "Didn't have anything better to do. Everyone and their mother seems to be away on vacation this weekend and it's supposed to storm again, making it a bad weekend for anything fun. And speaking of away, the neighbors moved in a hurry. Probably motivated by the attack, but they didn't take Sparky with them and now he's officially my son."

"Your son? I helped take care of him and picked out his food bowl. That should make me his step-mother or something."

"Pfft. Don't tell me you are going to ask for joint custody next. We aren't a divorced couple."

"My landlord doesn't allow pets, so you're safe for now. I think I'm allowed fish though." She blew out a breath and leaned back. "Living alone sucks. It's boring."

"Have you considered a gold fish?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "I'm sure that would fix everything."

"A whole aquarium of fish. I give you permission to name one Fred. The handsomest one, of course." He flipped the page and his fingers ran back and forth over his colored pencils before finally choosing one.

"Are those Christmas advertisements? You realize Christmas is half a year away, don't you?"

He gave her a defensive huff. "I had a stroke of inspiration and nothing better to do today. If I'd realized this was the week everyone planned a vacation, I would have gone somewhere too."

"Would you have gone rock climbing?" No, she definitely wasn't thinking about him shirtless again. She bit her bottom lip to distract herself.

"Nah. Normally I like to go on an adventure, but I think I'd rather go somewhere to relax. I think this past month took five years off me." He squinted at his page, flicking the top of the pencil against the side of his face before changing his mind on the shape of the ad he drew. "Maybe a secluded cabin in the mountains," he mumbled as he worked. "Where no one can bother me."

Unable to think up a good response that wouldn't be more inane babbling, she opened her book and started reading. His colored pencils scratched away at the sketchbook, creating a soothing background noise. The low rumble of conversations around them was perfect, not too loud to be distracting, but enough to provide some noise to keep her from feeling lonely. And Fred sketching away kept her from feeling pressured to make more conversation.

Sitting with Fred felt surprisingly comfortable. Too comfortable. Then again they'd lived together for enough weeks that it should be normal by now. Guilt wormed its way through her stomach. She couldn't pinpoint any reason why she should feel guilty about running into Fred and sitting at his table…but she couldn't shake the guilt. It made her feel like she was cheating on George, but nothing they were doing wasn't anything they'd already done a million times before. Nothing she wouldn't do with friends and family too.

The more she thought about it, the weirder their relationship felt. She couldn't imagine trying to explain to her mother that she'd lived with her boyfriend's brother while he was away for work. What would George's friends think if they found out, especially with the twins' past dating troubles? Her stomach clenched and she shut her book. She paid her bill as quick as she could and gave Fred a mumbled goodbye.

"Hmm, already?" He paused to peered across at her. "That's not like you. Usually you read for at least an hour."

"I'm almost finished. I'm going to go find my next read at the bookstore down the road." It wasn't a lie, but he was right. With only fifty more pages left normally she would stay until she finished the book.

"Okay, nerd." Fred said, his voice light enough to make his teasing sound good natured instead of offensive.

"As if a jock like you even knows what the inside of a bookstore looks like." She stepped away before he could get a snappy response in. She slowed her steps, afraid she was being too suspicious, but the guilt wouldn't leave.

The storm outside made her glad she'd chosen to spend Monday in the back of the shop poring over all the data she'd compiled from the beauty stores. She couldn't decide between dark blue or light blue for the bars of the graph in front of her. The color didn't matter much, but finding little things to work on kept her in the office and away from the front of the shop.

"Personally I think both colors look good," George said over her shoulder.

She jumped and twisted around. "When did you get here?"

"About a minute ago. I've watched you switch between the blues about ten times with that blank stare on your face."

"Oh."

He leaned closer to get a better look at the graph. "Looks like we are on track with what we expected. A little better even."

"Yeah. Has the stores from France and Germany responded yet?"

"That's why I'm here. A letter came in the mail from Germany asking for more information." He waved the letter in the air before setting it on the desk. "They are interested, we just need to finish convincing them to stock our beauty products."

"That shouldn't be too hard, not with our latest figures."

"Good to hear." He smiled, his gaze wondering toward the door leading to the front of the store. "I never would have pictured myself getting so involved in beauty products. I don't think this endeavor would have worked so well without you."

"Don't give me too much credit. All I did was badger the stores and customers for you."

"But you badgered them wonderfully and you are allowed out of this dim backroom." He squeezed her shoulder, the look of adoration on his face making her feel warm.

"I don't want to get in the way."

"You won't. At least come stretch your legs for a minute and help me talk Fred out of buying pajamas for Sparky."

"Why on earth would the cat need pajamas?" Leave it to them to keep a day from being dull. There was always some strange surprise.

"Because he came home with bubble gum in his fur and I had to cut it out and now he has a big bald patch that makes him look pitiful," Fred said as he stuck his head in the room. "Look at you two, hiding in here and whispering about me." He gave them both accusatory looks.

"I'd hardly call this whispering. More like loudly complaining about your insanity," George answered.

"In my defense it was only a passing thought. Besides, he'd look adorable in pajamas."

"He would, but it'd be your funeral getting them on him."

"At least it'd be far more interesting than reading our mail. The shop down the road is sending us complaints again saying all the people who stop to look in our windows are blocking sidewalk traffic to his store."

"Wow, he really will complain about anything, won't he?" George ran a hand through his hair, giving a look skyward that seemed to be asking for divine mercy.

"I say we send a free gift of one of our loudest products as an apology for the inconvenience with our best totally not insincere apology letter."

George grinned. "Genius. I think I know just the thing. Remember his last letter complaining about the miniature fireworks?"

Fred grinned. "Perfect. I'll drop them off myself tomorrow."

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip. "Is this the same guy who complained the bookstore's windows displays were too crowded and sloppy?"

"Yep. Would hate to be those poor bastards who have him as a direct neighbor. I bet they get complaints daily."

"He sounds miserable," Lucy added.

"Sure is," the twins said in unison. She still wasn't used to them speaking at the same time, or their conversations together where she struggled to keep up. It was dizzying how they could seem so different yet so similar at the same time, their ideas playing off one another with no hesitation.

"It's time for George and me to head out to hit our obstacle course booking," Fred said. "Devon already showed up for his shift and he'll take care of closing."

George snapped his fingers. "You should take Lucy instead! It'll be good for trust and team building and whatever corporate buzzwords the Ministry is using these days."

"George…" Fred's voice came out icy, his expression hard.

George's eyes widened in innocence. "It will be good for you two. Keep moving past your rocky start. Next time we'll all go."

The way Fred glared daggers at his brother made Lucy feel like she was missing a silent conversation between them. "It's fine if he doesn't want me tagging along. I can keep working on the charts." They were finished, but Fred didn't need to know that. As much as she'd liked thinking of him as her chance to gain an older brother, she'd never felt more like the unwanted little sister being foisted upon him than in this moment.

She got a yes and a no at the same time, making it difficult to tell who'd said what. They stared each other down another moment before George flapped his hands to shoo them out.

"Go, go, you kids. I'll hold down the fort here and give Lucy a shot to try the obstacle course." When neither of them moved, George wrapped an arm around their shoulders and guided them out of the room, not letting go until they started for the front door of the shop. "Have fun and go team!" He pumped his fist, his optimism endearing, but not enough to wipe away Fred's frown.

Fred muttered under his breath, but she couldn't catch the words. "Whatever. I don't want to be late," he grumbled loud enough for her to hear this time.

"Um, what exactly is this obstacle course?" Lucy asked as she followed after him, feeling grateful she'd gone for jeans and comfortable shoes today instead of a dress. The term obstacle course brought up memories of her muggle elementary school days when the gym teacher made them run a course every year. It was always her least favorite school day. Once she'd played hooky to get out of it and she never had learned the proper technique on climbing the rope. She bet Fred could climb a rope no problem. "There isn't rope climbing, is there?"

"Not exactly." He looked her up and down, assessing her. "Those clothes will do. You don't mind if they get wet, do you?"

"I guess not, but I don't like the sound of that question."

"Good, no need to make a stop at your place then. We should get to the course in time to do some warmup stretches. I heard they added some new rock climbing walls next to the course I wouldn't mind trying out too."

That sent a streak of satisfaction through her. She'd known he was a rock climber. It was just so adventurous Fred. She envied him a little bit. Adventures were fun to think and read about, but she tended to chicken out. If not for her ex, she likely would never have gotten up the courage to move to England. But she had and it'd been the right decision, so maybe she should learn to be a little more adventurous. Surely a little bit couldn't hurt.

"So what does 'not exactly' mean in regards to the rope?"

"You'll see."

"I don't like how cryptic you are being. It's never a good sign." She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever this course was, she was about to make a huge embarrassment of herself and she was certain Fred would love every minute of it. Maybe she'd finally get a chance to talk about what had happened with the Death Eater, to make sure everything was okay between them and then she could blissfully enjoy the happy ending she was hurtling toward with George.