Little by little, the changes kept happening.
George wakes up to the smell of eggs and bacon. When he reaches the kitchen, sleepy eyed and tousle haired and without even splashing some water onto his face, it is to find Fred hastily set plates onto the dinner table.
"You seem perky."
Fred looks at him with a grin. "Morning," He gestures at the breakfast carelessly. "Woke up a little early to rustle something up." he finishes a little sheepishly, busying himself with setting the table.
A smile tugs at George's lips. "Mhm. Be back in a minute," he gestures at his face. "Didn't even wash my face. Heard you in the kitchen and I.."
Felt concerned.
False alarm, though.
You've calmed.
Fred nods, though he still has a smile on his face, despite the implicit emotions in George's trailed-off sentence.
It seems like nothing can dampen his spirits today.
George is relieved, filled with affection. "Sleep well?"
Fred looks up at him, and grins.
Again, a little sheepishly.
"Yeah," he nods, quickly busying himself again with the mindless pottering-around.
I slept in your arms.
George is smiling softly all the while. "Good. I'll be back. Save me some, okay?"
Fred makes to chuck a little piece of egg at him, and George quickly ducks and leaves the kitchen.
Grinning a little.
He'd thought that their mum would kill them after the tragedy that happened in Harry's sixth year. Their instant darkness powder was what had played a crucial role in the mayhem that broke free. Malfoy had used it to smuggle those Death Eaters into Hogwarts. If it wasn't for their product, who knows, perhaps things would've played out differently, perhaps Dumbledore wouldn't have died, perhaps a few things would've been altered...
Perhaps Bill and George wouldn't have been injured...
They hadn't suspected that crackhead of a Slytherin boy who had blundered around in their shop in search of hemp of all things in any way.
But maybe things happen for a reason. Maybe it all ties together in the end.
Whatever it is, when they had explained that Malfoy had never set foot into their shop, that if he had they'd have kicked him out and sent him hurtling faster than a bludger, their parents had wholeheartedly accepted their innocence. Everyone did. (Ron needed a good thwack to his head from a thoroughly pissed George, but in the end, he did, too).
Then again, even if they hadn't had a good reason to offer for their product being a co-conspirator, they all would've excused them.
Because, time is running out. There's just not enough time to hold grudges, to be stern.
There's only enough time to love.
Only enough time to love, until it runs out.
That is why, as their mum so eloquently likes to put it, people are eloping left and right, just like the last time.
That is why, Bill and Fleur, after deciding that their private English lessons have dragged on enough, decided to get on with it and get married. Their mum hadn't liked the young French lady; neither did Ginny, but they reckon it was only because she is too pretty.
That was until Bill got mauled.
Moody was there with them that evening. Then he was simply gone.
Fred doesn't know how many shocks a heart could suffer.
That is when, in the silence of the night, he pulls George to him. He comes sliding in, easy, warm, pliant. A hand goes into his hair, limbs twine, and when it comes tumbling down like an avalanche, Fred dots kisses along his ear.
Not his twin.
He'll tear down the entire world.
Not his fucking twin.