The dance is coming to an end.
There were only a few couples dancing in each other's arms on the dance floor in the middle of the hall. The Weird Sisters played a soothing and sad piece of music, and George's mood at the moment was the same as the music. The undercurrent surging under the water washed over his heart, causing a helpless melancholy to accumulate there.
Just a few minutes ago, his spirited twin brother had walked out of the auditorium door with his female companion.
Angelina had dressed up carefully tonight, and the thousands of candlelight in the hall made her look stunningly beautiful. Whenever she walked beside Fred or danced with him passionately, Fred would always attract countless eyes full of envy and jealousy.
George was neither envious nor jealous of this, but some kind of repressed emotion was definitely engulfing him, making him breathless.
So he followed her out without even thinking about it, and even forgot to explain a few more words to the French girl he had spent the night with.
When he stood on the steps, the cold December wind finally sobered George's suddenly overheated brain. He searched around anxiously and soon locked onto the two people not far away.
Fred had probably just made a request to the girl and was asking for advice. The black girl thought carefully for a moment and nodded, and both of them smiled brightly.
The undercurrent that had been surging in George's heart froze, making a crisp crackling sound.
He watched him walk hurriedly, holding her waist and walking into the rose bushes. The magic branches sensibly parted on both sides and closed behind them, blocking George's unwilling sight.
What a thoughtful arrangement!
He found that the tone of his words was full of sarcasm and ridicule.
But this is wrong, he thought again. No student who was looking for a date this evening would have thought of this. He was so out of place, and the realization made George inexplicably sad.
He once thought that it was a sure thing that he and Fred would always keep in step with each other, and it was not impossible to have their wedding on the same day.
This was the first time he felt the pain of being left behind by his significant other.
An hour later, George met Fred in the dormitory.
He looked content, and there was a twinkle in his blue eyes that George had never seen before.
When he took off his tailor-made suit, a few rose leaves that were tucked into his waistcoat fell out, and George pretended not to notice anything. He refused to imagine how the leaves had fallen into Fred's clothes during the friction between the clothes, and he sincerely hoped to God that his brother would suppress the desire to share for the time being.
Of course he and she would flirt, kiss, and have countless sweet details, but he didn't want to know those.
"I thought you wouldn't come back so early."
The man had also taken off his shirt, tossing it carelessly with his vest. The tailored dress had wrinkles all over it, as did the back of his shirt, which looked like it had been pulled hard.
George took one look and then looked away.
"What a pretty girl from Beauxbatons. What's her name - Claire?"
"Yes," George replied perfunctorily, not correcting Fred that the girl's name was actually Camilla.
Anyway, the other party didn't really care. Most of his attention was probably still on Angelina. George knew without even looking that his brother's mind was spinning with excitement about something.
"We took a walk together, and then I took her back to the carriage at Beauxbatons," George said, simply because he didn't want to cause any awkward silence between them or talk about things he didn't want to hear. "She said she felt a little cold."
Fred turned away in an incredulous way and raised an eyebrow at George. "God, don't tell me you didn't get the hint there."
He moved closer to his brother and slowly took his brother's hand and held it in his palm. For a moment, George's brain stopped working. He stared at Fred.
"Sweetheart, if this beautiful dress doesn't make it easy for you to carry your wand tonight, I'd certainly be happy to perform a warming spell for you." Fred bowed gracefully, and George almost thought he was going to perform a hand-kiss or something.
"But there are certainly better options. I happen to know of a suitable patch of grass behind those trees over there, out of the wind and a good place to rest your tired feet after a long night."
When saying these words, Fred's mouth corners were raised, and the effect of his passionate demonstration was simply remarkable, but George's performance was not so good. In Fred's eyes, he was basically stupid the whole time. Little did he know that his brother was actually struggling in his heart, trying to convince himself not to grab the other's hand impulsively.
"Hey, you're not regretting and heartbroken because you found out the truth, are you? Is the blow so great?" Fred was surprised. He rarely failed to understand his twin brothers' thoughts, but this time was obviously an exception.
So he naturally withdrew his hand, and seemed to be planning to knock his brother on the head a few times to bring him back to his senses.
The feeling of Fred's touch remained on his skin, along with the thin calluses between his fingertips and some belated emotions that George regretted.
The twins had held hands more times than they could remember in the first sixteen years of their lives together, but the only thing they knew for sure was that none of those times had stirred up such a storm in George's heart as the one he had just experienced.
This may also be related to Fred's natural flirting skills. Although it was just a demonstration, it made George realize what insatiable desire is in just a few dozen seconds.
He really hoped that Fred's affectionate gaze could stay on his face for a second longer, but he was afraid that the other party would ask him in return, "Brother, what's that disgusting expression of yours?"
But there is also good news. At least with the regret swelling in his chest, George has finally regained the ability to move.
He stood up, foiling Fred's plan to give him a blow.
"I don't have that need." He walked a few steps away, lay down on his four-poster bed, and pulled the blankets over his body. "All the bushes in Hogwarts are crowded today, and I don't want to share the private space of a date with a bunch of people just for a suitable piece of grass."
The temperature in the blanket rose, making him feel uncomfortable. Fred's suppressed laughter came through the gap in the curtains and into his ears. "It's true - Rogers's incoherent love words were so lame, but I could hear them clearly. I almost threw a stinky egg at him. Believe me, he has embarrassed all the boys in Hogwarts."
"You carry stinky eggs in your dress pocket?"
George tried to make himself respond. The taut curtains around the four-poster bed made him feel safe, and it was a little easier to act casual than before.
"No, otherwise I would have done that. Angelina wouldn't blame me for spoiling the fun anyway."
George heard his heart groan.
His brother was probably one of the few men who could think of Stinky when alone with the prettiest girl in Gryffindor.
Fred was passionate, bold, humorous, and good at sweet talk. All of this earned him the right to show his carelessness occasionally. Girls always liked to define it as a kind of childish cuteness, but George tasted an unusual trust from it, which made him particularly uneasy.
He lay there for a few minutes, hearing Fred humming cheerfully as he went to wash and come back, followed by the creaking of weight on the four-poster bed opposite.
The lights went out, and the safe zone provided by the bed curtains fell into darkness.
Emptiness crept into George's heart. No matter how many times he turned over, he couldn't find a comfortable position. After an unknown amount of time, his emotionless question rang out in the room: "Fred, are you going to date Angelina?"
Time seemed to freeze, and he held his breath. After a moment, a short "hmm" came from the darkness.
Then the sound of tossing and turning in the four-poster bed disappeared.
The next morning, the students who had stayed back for the ball came to the corridor, waiting for the carriage to take them to Hogsmeade Station. The express train would take them to King's Cross Station in London, and then they would go home to spend the rest of the Christmas holidays.
George, with two dark blue spots under his eyes, stood side by side with Fred. As soon as the girls appeared, his brother ran to his new girlfriend with his suitcase.
George didn't move. He stared at the old box at his feet, and discovered several scuffs on it that he had not noticed before.
This should be the mark left when they bumped into each other and both carts filled with gifts overturned in the third grade.
And this one, must have had a dent from the last time Fred knocked it off the luggage rack.
…
He suddenly felt a little lucky that he had never thought of restoring the box. What would be the fun of doing that? The memories of the two of them were also engraved in the past.
The horseless carriages drove along the gravel road one after another and stopped at the door one after another. Students began to board the carriages noisily, many of them calling their friends. George picked up the handle of the faded suitcase, and a belated fear suddenly hit him -
There were four seats in each carriage, and Angelina stood next to Alia - they were good friends, and Fred would undoubtedly ask him to sit with them. It was foreseeable that the scene in the compartment would be the same when they got on the train. The days of being able to be alone with Fred at any time and anywhere may have ended yesterday, and the fixed seat next to each other now belonged to his lover.
From now on, their lives would no longer be written by the two of them together.
George stood there stiffly. Fred had already chosen an empty car not far away and was helping the girls put their suitcases under the seats.
Fred's lover.
He repeated it twice silently in his mind, and a sense of resentment grew inexplicably. If there was anything in this world that he could desire but never achieve, this was it. His clever mind must have been able to come up with countless pranks and tricks, and could turn the impossible into the possible, but he was powerless against this one thing.
George suddenly began to hate himself for waking up so late.
No Weasley would accept that his love died silently in the bud. Even if it was destined to wither, he hoped that it had stretched out its leaves and faced the sunlight it longed for, even if only once.
Fred was calling his name, waving at him to hurry over and not dawdle. George calmed himself down and found that his body had already moved before he thought, and walked towards the three people over there.
The girls were already in their seats, but Fred was still standing under the car, obviously waiting for him to put away his luggage.
Not all students leave school. There are always some individuals who stay in Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, so the carriage does not have to be fully occupied to be sufficient.
George looked at Angelina who smiled kindly at him, and felt a little sorry. But he still said in a tone that had nothing to do with negotiation: "Fred, we'll take the empty car at the back."
Without waiting for a reply, he sent the trunk Fred had put away flying from the side of the carriage. The motion of the wand was not precise, and the trunk hit the side of the carriage with a loud noise, but it finally reached its destination. He saw the empty carriage vibrate under the impact of the trunk, and then he turned to face his brother.
"I'm serious. Let's take that one."
He estimated that he was as stubborn as a hippogriff. Fred might be shocked by his rare serious expression. Although the confusion in his eyes did not diminish at all, he still forced a smile to his girlfriend.
"Excuse me, Angie. We'll continue this topic in twenty minutes. I guess George probably has some urgent ideas that he wants to discuss with me? Pranks don't wait."
Fred's calculation was correct; that was the average time it would take for a carriage to complete the journey between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.
The twins got on the car one after another, and the wheels began to squeak and turn automatically, carrying them forward.
Fred sat opposite George at first, expecting him to speak right away, but George just silently changed seats and sat down next to him.
"I say, what kind of riddle is this?" Fred supported his chin with his right hand and asked the person sitting very close to him.
He sat crookedly, his whole body exuding a leisurely and handsome temperament. But George never looked at him after getting on the carriage. He just turned his head to his side and looked at the scenery along the way.
"You specially dug me away from my girlfriend just to... ride with you?"
After hearing this, George's mood became even more gloomy. He moved his drooping hand, and then, relying on his sense, he grabbed Fred's free hand under the cover of his wizard robe.
"Let me hold it for a moment."
As the car rumbled forward, he unreasonably clasped his fingers around the other's, pressing his nervously sweaty palm against the other's, holding their hands tightly. He felt Fred try to pull his hand away after a brief moment of surprise.
"Give me twenty minutes, okay? Just twenty minutes... before we get to Hogsmeade..."
In fact, he wanted to say much more than that, but after thinking it over, he didn't say it out loud. Only his originally stiff tone unconsciously turned into a plea, conveying an indescribable bitterness. Fred stopped struggling.
George never turned his head back, otherwise he would have seen a slight relaxation on Fred's face, which was full of surprise and confusion. He let George hold him under his robe for a long time before he said, "...That's it?"
"This stretch of road is the only one that belongs to me." George said softly, looking stubbornly out of the car. "I don't want anything more. This... is enough."
He thought Fred would understand what he was trying to say. After all, in the past sixteen years, they had rarely failed to guess the unspoken meaning in each other's words, let alone this time it was so obvious.
"Once we get off the bus, I won't mention it again. Just pretend nothing happened and everything will be the same as before."
But there will definitely be something that will never be the same again.
The bitterness in George's heart gradually grew, but his voice became smaller and smaller, so small that he himself was not sure whether he had said it out loud. But Fred held his hand back, and although he did not hold it as hard as he did, the strength from his hand was clear.
He thought the other party was saying "good" to him with this gesture, but Fred called out his name. From the short syllable, George heard the heartache and regret.
He didn't dare let himself look back.
"Don't be silly, Angelina is a good girl," George said.
Neither of them spoke in the second half. Their clasped hands were scalding hot, entangled and locked in a place where no one knew.
There were times when George felt as if Fred wanted to give him more. A touch, maybe a hug, but he refused it decisively. It was not easy to do this, but George felt it was necessary to keep his promise. He could not guarantee that he would still be able to fulfill his promise after getting more.
The two sat quietly, shoulders touching shoulders. One looked out of the car, the other looked at each other. The car finally stopped outside Hogsmeade Village, and students rushed to the platform in front and behind. George let go of his hand first and rubbed his sore neck.
"Thanks."
"sorry……"
They spoke at the same time, and were embarrassed at the same time. However, George wiped his eyes and took the lead in making an expression similar to a smile.
"I'll take your luggage upstairs and find an empty box. You're welcome, go help the girls. But you'd better be quick, so I won't let you occupy the seat for too long."
END