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“Are you awake?” Fred whispered into the darkness of the dungeons, looking across the room, trying to make out George’s bed.
“You know I am,” came the reply, and then there was a rustle of sheets and a padding of feet across the cold stone floor.
George pulled Fred’s covers back. “Shove over,” he whispered, climbing in, spooning himself behind his twin, pressing his freezing feet against his.
“Ah, bloody hell!” Fred pulled his feet back sharply, grumbling under his breath, and settled back down again, ignoring George’s quiet shaking laughter.
They lay there in companionable silence for a while, listening to the snores of everyone around them, a sudden loud rumble and a yelped ‘Get off me! I’m in love with ‘Mione…’ making them giggle.
“Poor Ronniekins,” George said, careful to keep his voice low. “Think someone’s trying to steal his girlfriend?”
“Hardly stealing, when he can’t even work up the courage to ask her out,” Fred replied.
They laughed again, and Fred rolled over to face George, their noses colliding before they made themselves comfortable, fitting their limbs together easily in the cramped bed.
“Think we’ll survive this?” Fred asked suddenly, the whites of his eyes bright in the gloom.
George shrugged, tugging the covers up over their shoulders. “Dunno. I guess some of us won’t.”
“No, I expect not.” Fred fell silent again, listening to the whistle of Flitwick’s breathing.
“I hate it down here,” George declared after a while. “It’s cold, damp, and there are too many Slytherins.”
“Not to mention we left the school too long ago to be back here again.”
They smiled at each other in the dark, sharing their moment of remembered glory, when they had quit their formal education.
“I’ll look out for you,” Fred continued, his smile fading, ever the protective older brother. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“To us,” George amended. “We’re a team, right? Can’t exactly be a twin with just one.”
Fred nodded, his expression still grim, and pressed closer, his eyes closing. “You’ll stay here tonight, won’t you?” he asked. “In my bed.”
“What about the others?” George whispered back. “They’ll see in the morning.”
“Don’t care,” Fred replied, mumbling into the pillow. “What have we got to lose?”
George sighed, but didn’t reply, his brow wrinkled in thought as he listened to his brother’s breathing evening out as he drifted off to sleep.
What did he have to lose? Nothing really. He curled closer, slinging an arm over Fred, shutting his own eyes.
Nothing at all; just everything.