Title: Potterwatch
Chapter: Himerus and Eros
Author: EruditeFics
Rating: Super Duper NC-17
Word Count: around 4000
Warnings: DH Spoilers ahead. Smutiness abounds.
Notes: This could be considered a DH missing moment, though we were never even privy to this. However, here's how I think it happened. Fred and George on the night they find out Ron has been spotted and they all must hide. Lyrics by The Spill Canvas.

Chapter 4: Himerus and Eros

George breathed a sigh of relief as he and Fred made their way to the Apparitionpoint. They had finally managed to get 'Potterwatch'on the air without a hitch. The rain hit his head hard, but it felt good to get outside. They had been hiding or at least laying low ever since the radio show was tossed. They were already marked men, and now every eye seemed pointed toward them. For the sake of the family, Fred and George toned it down.

George opened up his arms, lifted his head, and let the rain soak his shirt. Fred stood beside him, and taking his cue, began to splash in the puddles that had gathered on the vast lawn. They laughed, remembering a time when this sort of behavior was a part of childhood and not a bittersweet indulgence.

Fred took George's hand. It wasn't odd for such open affection in private, as both recognized they were practically the same person. They Apparated back to their flat once they were in the clear. Upon arrival, an owl was already waiting for them. The bird looked official and highly important.

Fred took the letter and read it quickly.

"Kingsley got a report on Thomas already. One of his informers said he was found and taken to Malfoy Manor," Fred said, his voice very serious.

"Bloody hell! Well, we can at least tell his family he's alive."

"We can't. We have to lay low, remember?" Fred said, making a pointed glance at George.

George knew what that look meant. Fred had tried desperately to figure out what happened between his brother and Angelina. Fred knew enough to know they had something, but George remained tight-lipped. It pained him to keep it from Fred, but he didn't want to bring that heartbreak out in the open.

"I know. We need her back. She is the only one who's even remotely safe walking into a Muggle neighborhood. You can call her," George said, even as the apprehension rose in his chest.

"Bollocks! Get over yourself, wanker. I would have called her anyways!" Fred said, punching him in the side of his arm.

"Oi! I'm not the one boning every bird I meet like I have a gold-dipped knob!"

"Katie Bell is not 'every bird.' She's a big-titted goddess who's mad in the sack. I keep going back for more," Fred said, a far off look on his face.

"Awwwwww. Is ickle Fweddie in lurve?"

"No more so than you."

At those words, their smiles faded and their eyes met. Fred knew, as did George, that his feelings for Angelina were obvious to his twin. George began to busy himself with their new photograph messengers, avoiding Fred, and re-reading in his mind the letter she left.

George,

I'm sorry to leave like this. I don't know what came over me last night, but this cannot go on. Not now. Not in the middle of a war. I can't risk losing you when I need you by my side the most. I need to know you'll always be there. And what if we fall in love? What if we fall in love and one of us is taken or killed? Where are we then?

I don't even know if I'm making sense. I just can't risk the heartbreak. I have to stay strong, even if that means staying away from you. I need to be strong now, or else I risk losing everything.

-Angie

It was the 'what if we fall in love' that tore George to shreds. She didn't feel for him the way he felt. It was easy for her to leave.

"I've got to call her." Fred whispered, ripping George from his thoughts.

"She doesn't love me back. She left."

There was another long silence. Fred grasped George's shoulder for a second before going into their kitchen to use their kitchen to use their magic-powered Muggle phone. Lee had outdone himself in setting this up, and making it as untraceable as their radio signal. When all this died down, the Burrow would get one too.

George tried not to think of what it would be like to see her again, after two months of nothing. He tried not to picture her graceful neck as her head tilted back, screaming his name. He banished thoughts of her warm skin pushed against him. He tried to forget her laugh, her light, her fiery demeanor, but all his attempts failed when he heard her shout a greeting from the front door. He was hers, even if she didn't want him.

You're captivating while evading
All the questions I have for you like,
"What exactly makes you tick?"
When the guilt sets in tell me
What are we going to do?

"What's wrong? Is everyone okay? Where's George?" Angelina said, rushing past Fred. She looked relieved to see George standing there.

"Everything is okay right now, Gi Gi. We just need you to do one more house visit. It's very important," Fred said, putting an arm around her.

"Of course. Whatever you guys need," Angelina said, straightening her back and holding her head up, effectively avoiding George's gaze.

"If you do this, you may be in danger," George said, drawing her attention to him.

"As opposed to the safety we're all enjoying now?" She laughed, turning her beautiful brown eyes on him.

"Har har. You're hilarious, Johnson, but let's get to it," Fred started. He handed her the address and a small duffle bag.

"Kingsley told us that there are already Death Eaters surrounding Dean's family home. We have no idea why there's the sudden interest in Thomas, but it means that you need to be completely incognito. Go on and change, let's see your costume," Fred explained, taking a seat next to George.

"If this is crotch-less, or contains pasties, I will throttle you," Angelina said, looking sideways at the boys.

"Well first, blame Lee. He put it together. Our goal is to get you OUT of this flat, not for George to lock you in his room!" Fred said dryly.

George dropped the box he was going through, and Angelina giggled nervously. After she left, Fred would get it. George tried not to stare at the dignified blush on Angelina's cheeks as she walked away.

Your tongue is wet with a top secret passion
I hope I am the cause of it
I'll navigate this unsturdy vessel
Filled with a soft sea of pillows and blankets

Angelina stepped out of the guestroom, and George had to stifle a laugh. She was wearing a thick, puffy winter coat in the maroon and teal of the West Ham football team that Dean always donned his bunk with. She wore a maroon and teal skirt, hideous matching socks, and pompoms in her pigtailed hair.

"Remind me to murder Lee," Angelina grumbled, smirking slightly. George had to try not to stare at her full lips when they curved into a gorgeous smile.

"Kill Lee," Fred piped up, patting her back and walking out of the room. The noise of distraction Fred offered was gone, and now George was left facing the one woman he wanted and couldn't have.

"So what's the deal with this get up?" she asked, stretching her leg up on the arm of the couch to pull up her stockings. George allowed his eyes to travel up her long, shapely legs, toned and athletic like the rest of her. What little control George was exercising flew out of the window.

"What in the hell makes you think that we … this," he said, gesturing between the two of them, "couldn't survive the trials of war?"

She lowered her leg, sighed, and looked at him with very big, sad eyes. He summoned his courage and walked toward her.

"George," she whispered, trying to find her voice. "We're all on the run. We're all on the brink of this enormous explosion. Our world is being torn apart."

"Then hold on tighter," he said, grabbing her shoulders.

And I fight the urge to explore
The vastness of your curves I adore
You know I, I hate you
No, I hate you more
You know I, I love you
No, I love you more

"Ahh yes," said Fred, carrying a long piece of parchment. "Here is the address. Lee says that if you pretend to be a fundraiser for a West Ham school group, it might clue Mrs. Thomas to let you in. Though you might want to throw in a wink for good measure," he winked at her, obviously trying to break the tension. Angelina nodded and activated the Portkey, a West Ham button, which would take her to just outside of Dean's neighborhood.

"Be careful, Angie. Come back," George whispered, holding her tightly to him.

He felt her hot breath on his neck and her arms as they moved down his back. Then, she touched her Portkey and was gone.

But before George could even open his mouth, Kingsley's large lynx patronus invaded their flat.

"We know why Thomas is being watched, and we think his family is now in danger…you too. Please Apparate to my cottage in Cornwall. No one knows I own it. An owl is bringing the coordinates. Get out now! I'll get the Thomas family."

As the great cat disappeared, a Scops owl dropped Fred and George the coordinates. Fred gave George a frightened look as they Apparated away.

The weather in Cornwall was much warmer; a fine mist rose off the ocean and smattered George's face with salty drops of water. The sun seemed much more pronounced than in London. At the crest of a rocky hill sat a sunny yellow cottage with a small white fence. Fred and George laughed simultaneously at the image of Kingsley with his big bald head covered in a flowered hat and gardening that popped into their minds. They trudged up the hill to search for the rest of their fellow fugitives.

A delicate sniffle could be heard over the wind and crashing waves of the ocean behind them. Fred and George opened the front door, their wands drawn, without knocking. At a table in the cozy foyer sat two identical little girls in pink dresses with braided hair. They were crying quietly and consoling one another. They had the same narrowed eyes as Dean.

"Well hullo, loves. I'm George. I see you guys are also enjoying the glories of twindom," He smiled. He could tell they were frightened, so he and Fred had silently decided not to barrage them with questions.

"And I'm Fred. Lovely to meet you," Fred said, as he and George stuck out their hands. The tearful girls took them and shook them lightly.

"I'm Desiree and this is Dania," said the one on the left.

"Lovely," said George, taking a seat at the table and sharing an uneasy look with Fred.

To George's relief, they heard another 'pop', and soon Mr. and Mrs. Thomas arrived, dropping a Portkey.

"Sorry we're late, girls. There were a few bumps," said Mr. Thomas as the girls flew into their parents' arms.

"Angelina and Mr. Shackelbolt are, ummm, cleaning things up," Mrs. Thomas added, looking very worried.

George leapt up from the table to leave … to find Angie … to do anything but wait. He ran out the door and down the hill.

"Fucking Christ, George, stop!" Fred yelled, trailing after him.

George stopped abruptly and turned around. Fred had to slam into him just to stop.

"You saw the look on Mrs. Thomas' face! Angie and Kingsley are fighting. I will not leave her hanging when I know I can help!"

"I know, and I'll go with you, but I think we need to take a few seconds and clear our heads so we don't splinch. You could have busted your balls running like a bat shit insane person down this hill."

George simply nodded, sat on a rock, and put his head in his hands. The sun was starting to hide behind the sea, giving everything an orange hue.

"I just don't want to lose her. I can't help but feel she is just putting on a front, and that we belong together. I don't mean to sound like such a wanker, but it feels like I'm meant to be with her."

Yes, it's true
You've brainwashed me and now I'm more confused
I still somehow hope I end up with you
Yes, it's true
I romanticize every single thing I do
Especially when it comes to you

"You do sound like a wanker, but not a lonely one. When all this shit is over, I'm going to bury myself in Katie's chest and never leave."

"Thanks for that lovely image. Now whenever I look at her, I'll see your red head popping out of her cleavage."

"Naturally."

"But that's bollocks!"

"No, they're tits. T-I-T…"

"No! I mean waiting until this is all finished. Why? Why not now, while we're all still real and alive?"

Fred pondered the question, and before he could answer, Angie and Kingsley had appeared by Portkey, much worse for the wear. As Kingsley hobbled up to his cottage, Fred and George ran to Angelina, trying to help her up and get her inside.

She looked like she had fought hard. Her braids were hanging freely around her head, and were tangled together in places. There were burn marks across her face and bare arms, along with various bruises. The socks that had caused so many amorous thoughts for George were now torn, and huge bleeding gashes ran across her skin.

"Someone really loves to 'Reducto' human flesh," she groaned, trying to stand, but her cries of pain made it clear that Fred and George would be carrying her.

"Angie, I'm going to conjure a stretcher. We need to levitate you in, since your legs are too bad," said George.

She nodded, as George conjured a stretcher and Fred bent down to gently grip her legs, giving George a nod when he was ready. George wrapped his arms around her waist while Fred held her legs up slightly to prevent excessive bleeding.

Once they got Angelina settled on the couch, Kingsley began the necessary healing spells, but all too soon, yet another urgent message pulled him away. He tossed George the essence of dittany as a Patronus began to whisper in his ear.

Angelina let out a whimper and laid her head back on the pillow.

Mrs. Thomas appeared with a basin of warm water, and began to gently wipe away what she could from Angelina's wounds. George could tell she was holding back, as her jaw was clenched and tears had begun welling up in her eyes. George took her hand and kissed it, trying to soothe her. Luckily, her wounds were cleaned quickly, and the dittany applied liberally. She didn't let go of his hand again until Kingsley reentered the room.

"We know now why there was so much interest in Dean," Kingsley started, trying to retain his characteristic cool and calm demeanor as the Thomas family clung to each other with anxiety. "Dean was taken in with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

The floor fell out from under George and he felt his legs falter. A soft hand pulled him down, bringing him to sit on the edge of the sofa as Fred fell to the floor. The enemy had taken Ron. Little Ron was fighting for his life, and was without his brothers when he needed them most.

Kingsley broke the breathless tension, his voice so resounding in the silence that it made the young girls jump.

"We only know where they were taken, from the mouths of some spies near Malfoy Manor. We can't get anyone inside."

Fred and George got up simultaneously, wands drawn, and said as one, "We're going to the Burrow."

Angelina fished her wand out of the waist of her torn skirt and stood with difficulty beside George, taking his hand again.

"You are both adults and I shan't stop you, but please consider something: We have no idea where every member of your family is, or even if the Burrow is safe. You would do your family much more of a service to stay in tact until we have a course of action."

"Where is Malfoy Manor?" asked Fred, sounding only slightly placated. Kingsley turned wide eyes on him and simply shook his head sternly.

"You motherfucker!" yelled George, placing a wand under Kingsley's chin as Fred disarmed him. "You better tell us. We need to go!"

But as George dug his wand into the soft flesh of Kingsley's neck, he felt Angelina press up against him. As a blue heron Patronus descended from the ceiling, George let her lower his arm.

"We are all safe," said the shining bird with Bill's voice. "Harry and his lot managed to escape. They are with me at Shell Cottage. Dean and Luna Lovegood are too. Mum and Ginny have been relocated to Auntie Muriel's, and they want to see you as soon as you can get here. But please, wait until morning to make sure the coast is clear. Please, stay safe, wherever you are. I have a feeling we will be seeing you very soon."

The glowing bird disappeared, and a choked sob escaped Mrs. Thomas' lips. Her husband and daughters guided her into a bedroom down the hall, seeking to enjoy their relief together.

Fred and George looked back at Kingsley fearfully, and returned his wand. They mumbled hasty apologies as they did.

"As I'm familiar with the Weasley temper, having known your father when we were both chasing after the same girl, I'll let it go. I can sympathize with you. But just remember, you owe me," he said. "Now, I must see to Hestia. We all have someone to worry over. Take turns sitting outside and keeping watch. I'll return with your father in the morning to take you to your mother and sister." And with that, he poised his wand and Apparated away.

"Mind if I sleep first? Feeling like an arse takes a lot out of me," Fred said. George nodded and he went off to the other bedroom.

"Actually, I'll take the first watch. I've still got some adrenaline to work off," Angelina said, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she walked out.

George just nodded again, drained and overwhelmed, and went to sleep next to Fred.

A few hours later, George was already wide-awake, his fears of reality having finally won out over his need for sleep. He lay still and listened to Fred's heavy breathing, trying to imagine how Ron had yet again managed to elude death. Suddenly, he heard a soft humming come from outside of his window.

George walked over to the white-paned window and opened it enough to lean his upper body out and feel the chilled night air whip across his bare chest. There was a rustling of movement to his left, and the humming got louder. He shrank back behind the gingham drapes with his wand drawn, aptly trained to be suspicious of anything, even in a cheesy yellow cottage in Cornwall.

Just then, Angelina strolled by, tossing a Quaffle in the air and humming to herself in the dark early morning. She looked beautiful to him, pausing to look around for possible danger before elegantly throwing the Quaffle into the air and catching it behind her back, a small smile on her face. George thought back to his conversation with Fred on the hill, to the fear that gripped him at the thought of Ron being in danger, and even to the night he and Angelina made love. It all seemed intertwined in fate, like the world was moving in a significant way, pulling those who need each other closer, and making them stronger.

Fuck it, thought George, as he threw on a shirt and walked out the front door of the cottage; Angelina running into him as he quietly shut the door.

I've sunken in the quicksands of love
And I don't want you to rescue me

Screw what my supposed friends think
It's obvious they reek of jealousy

"George…" Angelina said. But before she could speak anymore, he quieted her questions with his lips. He kissed her with every thought in his head, every will in his heart, and all the affection he could muster. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let his tongue run along her full lips, hoping she would take this further.

Her tongue darted into his mouth as a small moan echoed in the back of her throat. He had to hold back a victorious smile as he got her to relent so quickly. As their fervor and breathing quickened, George moved her back until she was pressed against the yellow wooden siding of the house. He wasted no time in showing her how much he wanted her, and let the erection pressing through his jeans meet her center. He was silently grateful for the benefits of such a tall woman.

He wasted no time in shooting his hands up the back of her shirt, letting his icy fingertips press against the warm skin of her back. She groaned, and her back arched, pressing her breasts into his chest. He pulled her more tightly to him, trying to memorize the generous curve of her arse as his free hand found it's way up her skirt. He had to stifle a loud groan when she flung a leg around his waist, letting his erection press directly into her. After all, they were outside of a house full of sleeping and paranoid people.

He took off her maroon and teal sweater, slipping it over her shoulders and down her back very slowly. Beneath it laid a black lace bra that left little to his already wild imagination. Her smooth, dark skin punctuated by graceful curves and tight muscles made George decide he was currently holding the most beautiful woman in the world. The question remained: Was this going to be just like last time, or was she finally giving in to what he was positive she felt for him?

I hope to God I mean a little more

Than the sounds that escape your tired 4 A.M. lips.
And oh-how I wish I meant a little more

Than a symphony of heavy breathing

And the friction of hips

"Angie?" George whispered, kissing down her neck and across her clavicle.

"Mmm?"

"Angie, love, look at me."

She opened her eyes, and they seemed to be reflecting the haunting moonlight draining through the mist of the clouds. She had something unreadable dwelling on her face, and George was unsure if he was doing the right thing by stopping her.

"Don't you think there's more to survival than just closing yourself off?" he asked gently, letting his hands trail down her ribs and over her torso.

"I know what you're getting at, George, and you can't expect me to just let go and love you like we're not about to get in the fight of our lives. Today proves that. Ron could have been killed…"

"Don't you make this about my family," he whispered urgently, being a little more forceful than he had intended. She pushed him away.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Weasley? Do you want me to fall at your feet and proclaim that I see those gorgeous blue eyes every time I close mine? Do you want me to forget about my family, my hopes, my damned wanted ass and flit around the country shagging in all the unusual places? Do you want me to tell you that on that night we spent in your flat, I was happier than I can ever remember being?" she whispered, angry and breathless. Her fists were clenched and her eyes looked fierce. She burned, and George had to fight from taking hold of her again and claiming her as his own.

"No."

"Then what is it? I can't just let it all go. I have to fight. I have to be strong."

"I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this. Then, I'll turn my back and forget we ever happened. But if you can't do that, I will be damned if I will let some sodding Dark Lord govern what I do." George took his chances, walked up to her, and put a finger under her chin so that her eyes met his.

"I don't want you to forget. I don't want you to walk away," she said, her eyes glassing over. She kissed him then, and George felt weightless, he felt alive. He wrapped his arms around her, under her arms, and she jumped on him, her legs winding around his thin waist. She was surprisingly heavy and they both knew that George cold never hold her in this position. She quickly conjured a pile of cushions right there on the dewy grass, laughing as they tumbled into them.

"Oh Angie. I think you've missed something," he said, chuckling.

"And what might that be, oh all-knowing pompous ass."

"Let the master demonstrate." George stood gallantly, and conjured a simple, sheer, overhanging tent. Then, with an unnecessary flourish of his wand, he made the entire thing invisible, thus, making them undetectable. "And, of course, a silencer, just in case."

Angelina stood up and pulled him to her, their bodies both warming in the shelter from the wind. He let her hands travel up and down his back before pulling his shirt over his head. He took her pulling back from himas a way to take control of the situation, pulling down the straps of her bra and kissing her shoulders carefully.

"George…George please…" Angelina whimpered, her nails digging in his back. He obliged, laying her gently on the soft cushions. She removed her bra, and he removed his remaining clothing, never taking his eyes off of her wonderful breasts. The moment she was topless, he went in with full fury, biting and sucking her nipples delicately and with relish. He let his hands move down beneath her skirt, moved her panties to the side, and ran his finger slowly along her folds, feeling for the small nub of nerves he knew all too well.

She moaned deeply as he gently stroked her, inserting two fingers as he did. He felt how hot and wet she was, and wanted so badly to be inside her, but there was one thing he wanted even more.

"I want to taste you, love," he whispered, kissing her and letting his tongue do in her mouth what he wished to do along her center as he tugged at the edge of her panties.

"Mmmm. I want to taste you too," she said, grasping his erection in her small hands.

And before George knew what was happening, she was straddling his shoulders, her warm mouth traveling down his shaft. George sent an eager tongue out and ran it over her lips, releasing a shudder from both of them. He wanted to scream how wonderful she was, how amazing this was, how good she made him feel, but they both simply kept relishing the taste of one another. Soon, all too soon, George felt an impending climax, and decided he needed to stop. She pouted only for a second before he kissed her hungrily, letting her juices mix in with the flavor of his skin.

George pushed her on to her back and hovered above her. Angelina had always been a strong, hard woman, and he wouldn't change a thing. However, on this night, from this angle, she was soft and more like an angel than a real person. He couldn't hold himself back from saying everything that was in his head.

"Angie. I love you. I've loved you since long before I should have. I don't care about the war. I'm more afraid of not ever getting the chance to be with you than I fear losing you."

She responded with small tears and a tender kiss. He pressed into her, and all the sound seemed to leave his ears. All he could hear was her breathing. All he could feel were her walls as they clenched and unclenched around him. He came in waves, mirroring the sea at the bottom of the hill as he bucked into her. She cried his name and came with him, strong and delicate at the same time.

"I love you too," she whispered, and fell asleep right there in the invisible shelter.

George was too elated to sleep, and decided to keep watch until the others woke up. He left the tent, and it vanished…but he could still feel her near. And even if he had to leave in a few hours, even if war kept them apart, he could leave knowing she was always there with him.