"George, you must remember not to let Fred fall in love with you, ever."
When he heard this warning for the first time, he was too young to distinguish that the love here referred to the love that he could not yet understand, so he cried miserably, thinking that this was the price he had paid for his troubles.
"But we--we are twins--" little George sobbed and hiccuped, "You all love me, and Bill, and Charlie...you are all--father and mother, why can't Fred love me?"
"Oh, we're not talking about that kind of love. We are a family, of course we love each other." Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, worried about the fate of their son, sighed heavily, not knowing how to explain.
"George, my dear boy, you will understand. You are never like the other twins, even more than..."
"Molly, they are still young. Maybe they will naturally become independent boys when they grow up. It would be too cruel to force them to realize this now."
Then they told George a story about an ancient curse, about unblessed and immoral love.
George didn't quite understand what he heard, but he remembered the terrible ending of the story - those brothers and sisters who chose to live together forever triggered the curse, and without exception, they died at a very young age. He didn't want Fred to die at all - no one in the family should die early! Adults rarely told them such a terrible story, but this story was so real that it was terribly true. Uncles Gideon and Fabian, who were loved by the children, hadn't visited for a long time.
"They went to another world together... We only hope that you two can live happily ever after."
Oh, George was beginning to hate this story.
Especially when he realized that all this might have been caused by Aunt Muriel's warning before she left (she had just spent Christmas with the Weasleys and was not happy with everything the twins did), the fear that had just risen in his heart was replaced by a spooky idea that would make Fred applaud him. Aunt Muriel was a nasty old witch, and maybe she made up this scary story to get back at them for their idea of using soot to imitate snow.
There should be snow on Christmas. Except for the color, the effect is very similar. My aunt has no idea what humor is!
"So...did you talk to Fred about this too?" George asked casually.
Anyway, he was going to complain as soon as he got out, and if his parents hadn't scared Fred as much as they had scared him, he wouldn't mind letting the twins experience the same fear. Well... he wouldn't admit that he was a little scared by the story just now.
"He's bolder and more reckless than you. Saying this will only make him rebel, even if he originally had no such idea!" Mom's tone was a little irritated, "So we decided to only tell you. You can't tell him, understand?"
"Okay, Mom." George answered obediently, but what he was thinking was - So you think I'm easier to please than Fred? But we are twins, so there is no reason why George is not as brave as Fred.
"Remember, don't tell him, and don't let him fall in love with you."
Ten minutes later he came downstairs after his detention. Fred, who was punished to clean the floor with a large brush, dropped what he was doing and rushed up to hug George as soon as he saw him.
"Hey, you're okay!"
"What can I do?"
"I think so too. If Percy insists that mom and dad go into the room together, he must be giving you a good beating."
"That's just his wishful thinking—" George snorted.
Before he could continue, Fred suddenly leaned in very close to take a look and asked suspiciously, "Your eyes are a little red. Did they really not beat you?"
He made sure he had wiped his tears clean before leaving the room. How could Fred be so perceptive?
"Of course not." George straightened his back.
As soon as mom and dad came into the room, they cast a silencing spell, so no one outside could hear him crying.
"Percy is so stupid, you can believe what he said? I rubbed my eyes... I have to act like I regret it!"
Considering that he was always good at acting cute and pitiful, Fred thought about it and immediately accepted this explanation.
"That's really amazing of you, you got away with it like that." He grinned, genuinely happy that his brother had escaped a beating.
Fred held George's hand and chattered non-stop, suggesting that they go play tricks on Percy later. George, however, thought of what his parents had just said, and asked, "Do you love Percy?"
"Him?" Fred slapped his forehead. "Only a mother could love him, right? I love Bill. Bill is much more interesting!"
"And Charlie!"
"Yeah, Charlie is no less awesome!"
"I still love Mom and Dad." George said deliberately.
Fred didn't know what he meant and immediately continued, "Nonsense, who doesn't love mom and dad? I love them the most. And Ron...oh, I would love him more if he didn't cry all the time."
"What about me? Do you love me too?" He asked, trying to be light-hearted.
"I thought you wouldn't ask such a bad question." His brother looked at him in disbelief. "Of course, beyond everyone else."
This answer made George's heart leap with joy. His parents said that this kind of love was okay, and he could let Fred love him without worrying about anything else.
Oh no, curses aren't necessarily true! Aunt Muriel must be lying to Mom and Dad!
But he was still a little worried by his parents' repeated warnings of "Don't tell him, and don't let him fall in love with you", so when Fred asked back, George gave an unexpected "No", which shocked Fred so much that he almost banged his head against the wall.
"Are you still not in love with me? Everyone else has acknowledged that you are abnormal, and you have given up on them."
George had already burst into laughter in his heart, but his face was still serious: "Because - I think I am much better looking than you, I love myself. We'll talk about it when you are more handsome than me."
What followed was a ten-minute long debate over who was better looking and who George should love.
At the end of the conversation, Fred inexplicably admitted that he loved Percy too.
"Just a little bit. After all, he is our brother. Don't get me wrong, I won't give up my plan to tease him just because of this."
"I believe it is only a little bit," George pointed with his little finger, "no more."
Children's arguments always lack logic, and his ambiguous explanation was hardly convincing. Later, George recalled that afternoon countless times, when they sat by the back door of the Burrow, discussing who they loved without paying attention to anyone else.
They didn't understand love at that time.
Within a few years, they had a preliminary understanding of love from the frequent visits of owls during the holidays, especially those letters that Bill took from the owls' beaks, which were magically blessed and exuded all kinds of pink scents that seemed to be called romance.
"You're in love!" Fred joked enthusiastically as he followed his eldest brother who had gone home for the holidays.
"You received so many love letters!" George followed.
"How old are you two? Why do you care about this?" Bill opened the envelope, and a bunch of petals burst out. It was obviously the masterpiece of some little witch.
"She's trying to sneak attack you!" Fred's excitement shifted immediately, "Cool! But she shouldn't use flower petals, at least pepper!"
"Would you stuff pepper into a letter to your crush?" Bill swept the fancy plant remains under the table. "Who is so lucky? I can't wait to meet her now."
George's heart beat to a different kind of rhythm—the kind of love that Mum and Dad said Fred would fall in love with someone.
"Why not?" Fred answered without any hesitation. "I put it in George's sandwich, too."
"How can it be the same?" Their eldest brother held his forehead with his hand.
"You finally admitted it!" George rushed over and grabbed Fred by the collar.
They had a fight under Bill's desk, a brief, friendly one that gave Bill just enough time to finish his letter and get all those petals rolling all over him.
"Good, I don't have to clean up. The rule of not using magic outside of school is annoying." Bill pulled them up and said, "Be careful, and shake off the petals when we get to the yard, please."
The two little fellows, who dropped something every time they walked, looked at each other, climbed onto the arms of the eldest Weasley son, one on each side, and asked him what love was all about. It was hard to say that they didn't intend to rub the dust and flowers on their eldest brother.
"Are you getting married?"
Even Bill Weasley, a genius who is both a good student and a rebellious man, was speechless for a long time after being hit by Fred's question: "I just celebrated my fourteenth birthday last month... Besides, the result of dating does not necessarily mean marriage. It is entirely possible for people to fall in love with different people at different stages."
"What about the person before? You don't love him anymore?" Fred asked in surprise.
"It's terrible - I feel like I'm being interrogated by my ex-girlfriend - you may find that the other person is not suitable to be together for the rest of your life, that you don't have common goals or similar views, and you may even find it unbearable after an argument, so you break up. Then you date someone else, and falling in love with her or not is a normal result."
"Then is there no one you think is suitable from the beginning?"
Bill was amused by their idealism: "How can it be possible? It takes a long time for people to get to know each other before they can confirm this."
Fred thought hard for a while and said a conclusion that was not surprising to George at all: "I think that if it is just about not getting angry with each other after a quarrel, it is suitable for people to be together for life - George completely meets the requirements."
George felt his heart beating wildly for a while.
Mother must have heard their conversation, because before nightfall she made an excuse and sent Fred out to clean up the gnomes in the yard, alone.
"George, go get the laundry out, and then go to the yard." When Molly said this, George already knew what he was about to face, so as soon as Fred left, he immediately showed his sincerity: "Mom, I remember what you said. I promise Fred didn't mean that at all."
Their mother looked troubled. "But you didn't really listen to us, did you? How did you answer?"
George hung his head.
There was a stain on the floor near the table leg, perhaps because they spilled the jam yesterday and didn't wipe it clean. He seemed to suddenly become interested in the discordant spot and rubbed it again and again with the tip of his shoe. The stain didn't fade. Mrs. Weasley's chatter flew in his ears, and George suddenly felt a strong sense of grievance and frustration.
"But Mom, Bill also thinks it's hard to find someone to spend your life with. So why can't we--"
From the moment we were born, we never thought about being separated from each other.
Molly looked like she was about to lose her temper. "George, you always thought you were the more sensible of the two—"
"Maybe I'm actually Fred," George said in a deliberately mischievous tone.
He originally wanted to get away with it, but Molly's face suddenly changed: "Are you Fred? Oh my God, did George tell you everything we said? Oh no..."
Her face turned very ugly and her body swayed. George was frightened and didn't understand why his joke had such an effect.
"Good boy, tell mom, right?" She grabbed George with a little too much force, which made the boy shocked and scared.
"No - I am - I am George." He stared blankly at his mother's pale face slowly regaining color, "Mom, what's wrong with you?"
The hand that was tightly holding his shoulder loosened, but George still dared not move. His mother's frightening reaction caused him more fear than the stories in previous years. A deep wrinkle appeared on her relaxed face, and she seemed to have aged in an instant. The boy's heart was tightened by the invisible hand. He behaved well in a rare way and hugged his mother's neck to comfort her.
"Oh George, this is very important. You should understand what a curse is. It is different from a prophecy. A curse is passed down from generation to generation and has been verified... I don't want to lose you. You, and Fred, I just want to see you two live in peace for the rest of your lives."
"…Why do you all think Fred will be the one cursed?" he asked in a low voice.
Because you are sure I won't fall in love with him, or
…
"Because you wouldn't allow that to happen, would you? You wouldn't risk anything happening to your brother."
"Neither would Fred!" George protested.
"Yes, but he doesn't mind taking risks. Merlin! He's always interested in dangerous things, and he uses his damn infectious power to get you to follow his ideas. From the moment he learned to roll out of his crib without any instruction -"
George was very dissatisfied with this description. His mother said that he was Fred's follower, as if he had no brains and could only act according to Fred's ideas.
"——and he has been strongly opposed to us separating the two of you since he was still able to speak. You should at least behave a little better."
The housewife sighed and turned away, and George followed her, looking down through the open window. Fred was running around the garden chasing the gnomes, looking very hard.
"We all love him." Mrs. Weasley stroked George's hair.
"But I've always been worried that my willfulness would lead him into a wrong understanding...Okay, you can go down too. Remember what I said, and..." She hesitated, "You are all grown up now."
It was not until bedtime that George realized the hidden meaning of the words "you've all grown up" - two single beds were replaced in his and Fred's room.
"Why?" Fred couldn't understand at all. "If they think there's not enough room for the two of us, they can just put the two beds together."
He measured the two beds with his arm. "This will give us more space. The room is already narrow enough."
The bed legs were obviously stuck to the floor by a spell and were beyond the ability of two little wizards to move. Fred sat on the floor in frustration and threw a tantrum. His complaints soon attracted Mrs. Weasley.
"It's time to go to bed, you, and you, go to bed quickly."
"I can't sleep!" Fred said fiercely, "I want to sleep with George! We have always slept together!"
"No! You are not children anymore. No other twins are like you!" Mom refused to give in. "It's time to learn to be independent!"
"We're not dependent, we just don't want to separate." Fred said angrily, "We will never separate!"
The mother looked at them deeply. "Really? Does George think so too?"
George opened his mouth, but the obvious answer was beyond his comprehension.
Fred seemed to be wondering why he didn't say anything: "Have you been cursed? Tell me."
"Maybe... maybe we can give it a try." He said it with difficulty, trying to treat it as a prank. "I'll choose the bed by the window."
What happened afterwards was very confusing, and George didn't remember the details very clearly. His mother told them that it was a magical riot, and that young wizards before school could not control their magic when they were emotionally unstable, often causing minor or major harm, and sometimes very dangerous.
Fortunately, his parents solved the problem quickly. George only remembered that he was quickly transferred downstairs. Ten minutes later, they also sent Fred down. He didn't remember much about what he had done, nor was he injured. When George hugged him tightly by the fireplace, he could feel the emotions that his brother endured silently.
Fred is sad.
This realization made George feel uncomfortable, as their emotions had always been connected.
"I don't think I'm wrong!" said Fred stubbornly.
The crackling flames danced in the furnace. There was a bright light flashing in the corners of his eyes, and his nasal voice was stronger than usual: "We are twins, George, do you really think this is wrong?"
His vivid expression conveyed so many emotions that George couldn't say no. He could only swallow his prepared words in silence, wishing he had never heard of the curse.
"You don't want to—don't want to?" his stubborn brother continued to ask.
"Won't you change your mind later?" George knew he shouldn't ask that, but his mother had gone back upstairs and should still be cleaning their room, so no one would know even if he broke the agreement.
Fred dropped his eyes. "I thought you'd think the same thing as I did. I—I don't know why I should change when I grow up, but that's what I think now."
"I heard that all the beds in school are single beds." George made an excuse for himself, "What will we do when we go to school? Mom and Dad will definitely think it will be too late for us to adapt by then."
"We're still years away from turning eleven!"
"But it will take us several years to get used to this...right?"
Fred obviously hadn't thought about it from this perspective. He looked sad for a while and reluctantly admitted that it seemed to be the case.
"Then you should tell me clearly, so I won't misunderstand that you don't want to stay with me." He complained a little, and his mood gradually improved. "I think I broke your bed just now, but mom and dad should be able to fix it. You won't be left without a place to sleep."
"I thought the only stupid thing you did upstairs was cry," George teased. "And you collapsed my bed? The whole time I had it, I didn't have it for more than a minute!"
"Isn't that great? I'll have a reason to invite you to sleep with me."
Of course, this didn't happen in the end. They still had their own beds, but they often squeezed into the same bed after lights out.
Like George said, it took them years to adjust, it was hard. They both felt like they had been cut open and forced onto separate beds, even though they were no more than four feet apart.
Apart from that, Fred was not affected too much. Perhaps his parents were also worried that haste would lead to failure. They continued to be inseparable twins as before. Fred was still outspoken and expressed countless times how well they got along. Only George would occasionally think of his parents' worried expressions that day. It was obvious that what worried them was not just a seemingly ordinary magic riot.
George still couldn't understand. This matter was inevitably buried in his heart, becoming a thorn hidden under a beautiful flower, occasionally adding an unknown gray tone to their colorful life, until they went to Hogwarts.
One winter night, when they entered the secret passage behind the mirror on the fifth floor leading to Hogsmeade, Fred held his right hand a little longer than necessary. Between the sweaty fingers and the long and deep space, George felt a different heartbeat for the first time -
Boom boom!
Boom!
The echo of the heartbeat was louder than their footsteps, almost hurting his eardrums. The fluorescent light from the tip of the wand was only enough to illuminate the ground below. He couldn't see his brother's face, and Fred never let go, just pulling him around one corner after another. The footsteps gradually became sluggish, and the infinitely expanding sense of ambiguity suddenly came and swept over the two of them.
When the first kiss fell, the only words in George's mind were "as expected".
As if afraid that he would break free, Fred put his arms around his ribs and kissed him without thinking with the arrogance and enthusiasm of a 14-year-old boy who was in love for the first time. Reason was useless in this turbulent impact. George didn't know where the suffocation and dizziness came from. Maybe it had nothing to do with the pressure on his ribs. It was all because of his charming twin brother's greedy behavior.
They panted rapidly, and no one spoke. The ability to express themselves in words had given way to actions. Fred had already put everything he wanted to say into those kisses, leaving nothing behind.
After the storm, there was a calm and tender affection. George couldn't help but pursue the other's lips and spit out his tongue to meet hers…
It turns out that I love him so much, he thought dazedly.
He clung to the other's neck in a wave of dizziness, desperate to find an outlet for his surging love, but Fred was always one step ahead. George never thought that someone could say "I love you" in such a cynical tone and have such a moving effect.
"Fred, I—"
Just then a large piece of earth fell on their heads.
The smell of mold and earth mixed with frost rose in the air. Fred pressed his head into his arms and fell backwards.
The passage ahead collapsed, and thousands of years of dust wrapped in rubble fell around them, choking the two men so that they couldn't open their eyes. After the roar and the terrifying shaking stopped, George moved his arm. It hurt a lot when he was hit by a flying stone, but the bone should be fine.
"Fred, how are you?" he asked eagerly.
His brother cursed several times over his head: "Not very good, full of sand in the mouth! Bah, I'm sure no one's confession is so thrilling!"
But once he had spit out the contents of his mouth, it was time for jokes again.
"Brother, I think Merlin must be jealous of you. This passage must be at least a thousand years old, and it collapsed just when we were expressing our love to each other--"
George's nerves, which had just relaxed, suddenly tensed up.
"Let's get out first and see if we can get through here."
Fred used his wand to shine in the direction he came from. "It seems to have collapsed, but it's not completely buried. I can't see clearly."
If this is the curse of immorality, will they die here quietly today?
George felt his back soaked with cold sweat, and his mother's repeated warnings gradually turned into a chaotic argument in his ears. It seemed that everyone was shouting at him at the top of their lungs, "Don't let Fred fall in love with you."
And you clearly knew the consequences, and you clearly promised.
George began to tremble violently.
"You seemed quite calm just now, weren't you?" Fred touched him anxiously, "Are you hurt anywhere?"
In fact, his pale face was covered in ash, and there was a streak of blood running down his hair, but he stared at George unaware of it, as if he felt no pain at all.
George stretched out his hand tremblingly: "Don't move, your head is bleeding."
Fred touched his head casually and said, "It's not like you haven't seen it before. Just go to Madam Pomfrey and get it bandaged."
He was as optimistic as ever and didn't think at all that they might starve to death in the blocked passage.
"Don't worry, it's nothing."
"But I'm afraid I'm going to kill you..." George muttered, using his tie to tie the wound on Fred's head.
"Hey, you're quite thoughtful! It was our idea to go to Hogsmeade today." Fred said nonchalantly, "Don't take everything on yourself. Besides, we still have the Marauder's Map. There must be a way out. It never lets people down."
They struggled until dawn before they finally cleared a path through the rocks and soil that was big enough for two people to escape. When they collapsed in the corridor on the fifth floor, George felt as if they had spent most of their lives in the secret passage.
"The prank is over." Fred closed the map and put it in his arms, shaking his head regretfully, "What a pity, I can't take this road anymore."
Then he thought for a moment and added, "But this night was super exciting."
He turned over and pulled George over. There was no fear in his blue eyes, only excitement after the adventure and a light that might be called love.
All George could do was to turn his face away and let the kiss that saved his life fall on his cheek.
Fred sensed his unnatural stiffness and said "Hello", so he quickly adjusted his expression before turning his face around.
"I've always known that I'm handsome enough to make people lose their self-control, but I didn't know it would work on you." He winked mischievously, "The prank is over, Fred, you just said it yourself."
His brother looked at him for a while, then smiled broadly without a trace of gloom: "What's the first class today? Should we go to Madam Pomfrey's to catch up on some sleep?"
Only George knew that he would never dare take risks again.
Regardless of whether the secret passage scare that night was an accident or not, he didn't dare to gamble with Fred. There were so many wizards and witches in Hogwarts, there must be a few who were good enough to make his brother change his mind, right?
He thought his mother really understood them and chose to reveal the truth to him instead of Fred ten years ago because he was better at restraint and concealment than he thought.
With a little rejection and a little hint, Fred soon realized that he didn't want to let this abnormal relationship continue, and after a few attempts, he seemed to have given up the idea.
On Valentine's Day, he casually slapped a dozen love letters in front of Fred: "Don't waste your kissing skills. If you just like boys, there are a few that don't look so stupid here."
"Have you chosen someone to kiss?" Fred asked, looking unnatural.
Oh, poor guy, he didn't know how lethal his aggrieved eyes and pursed lips were. George almost wavered, but he still had to read his planned lines: "I haven't decided yet, but I've made an appointment to hang out after dinner. If you don't want to listen to Lee complaining all night, pick one for yourself quickly. It is said that he invited Angelina but was rejected again."
"I wouldn't kiss anyone for a reason like that!" his brother said stiffly.
Neither would George.
Dating was just a terrible excuse to show attitude. Fortunately, they were still young and could attribute all their silly behavior to the budding of youth and ridiculous physiological reactions. It was not until the eve of the sixth grade dance that George was sure that Fred had given up on him. His brother, who was becoming more and more handsome, asked Angelina out in front of him without looking back.
George laughed so much that day that he felt like the muscles on his face were almost stiff.
It must be because he was too happy. As long as he could get rid of the curse, he didn't care about anything else.
That day, George lay in his four-poster bed, unable to sleep, thinking over and over again about the kiss that took place in the secret passage two years ago. What was about to be locked deep in his mind was the profoundness and deep affection that could warm his whole life.
"Fred, your bow tie is off," he called to the dapper twin. "Never mind, hold on to your cape."
He quickly untied and tied his bow tie, smoothing out a dent on his shirt, but his palm could feel the regular heartbeat coming from underneath -
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
"Why don't you hurry up and dress yourself up? It's not nice to dawdle." The other party still had that cynical tone.
"Is it possible that my partner is less impatient?" George pretended to shrink his shoulders. "Don't tell Angelina that I said that about her behind her back."
Fred smiled and suddenly said something irrelevant: "I think I am definitely more handsome than you today."
Somehow, a heat rushed up from the tip of his nose to his forehead, and George couldn't help but blink his eyes to prevent it from condensing into suspicious liquid.
"Dream on, it's not happening. I will always be the prettier one."
He put his hand back into his trouser pocket and rubbed off the remaining feeling on his fingertips in an invisible place: "Go find your girl quickly, don't disturb my shining debut later."
George watched his brother leave, seeing Fred's tall back and brisk steps, then locked the door.
Then he put on his suit, looked at the face in the mirror which was exactly the same as the one before for a long time, and kissed it gently.
END