Ficage
Title: You Make It Right
Series: Songbook
Author/Artist: Anneko
Rating: Teen
Warning(s): Delicious, delicious twincest
Disclaimer: Characters within belong to J. K. Rowling, and not in any way, shape, or form to me.
A/N: It isn't songfic, inasmuch as lyrics aren't sandwiched in, but each fic in this series is very informed by a song on my Fred/George playlist.
Summary/Excerpt: Fred and George are Together, despite the odds. (oh, and this one's set in a lovely denial universe wherein Fred never died. Denial is our friend, it is the Precious...)
We didn't know who'd started up talk in town, just realized one day that business was abnormally slow, that people stared whenever we left the shop, looking at us like we were Death Eaters instead of semi-respectable businessmen.
After a while we put two and two together, and through some impossibly convoluted equations, we came up with... well, two, but we always come up with two. Eventually we put one and one together and the two fell into place and we realized, however it had happened, that people knew about us.
Well, they *thought* they knew about us, but they don't, not really. They don't understand what we are to each other, that we're everything. We didn't confirm anything, we didn't deny anything, either. It was really just a matter of getting through the rest of the day, and praying there wouldn't be a howler from Mum disowning us.
Ron and Hermione tumbled out of our fireplace that evening, looking harried-- and un-Harry-ed, although I suppose they'd be spending more time on their own without him now... Of course if they wanted to be alone, they wouldn't have come here.
We don't even bother leaping apart from each other when they appear. He keeps his head on my shoulder and my arm stays right around his shoulders.
"It was in the paper," Hermione starts in without preamble.
Ron coughs. A lot. Probably more than was absolutely necessary, really.
"Who'd put a thing like that in the paper?"
"It isn't even true." Ron finally said.
We didn't have the heart to correct him, but we didn't agree, either, and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Just the gossip page-- 'Around Diagon Alley', or somesuch nonsense. Lavender sent it to Ron asking if he'd seen it." She sounded a little miffed around 'Lavender'. "Anyway..."
"Has Mum read it?"
"Dunno, mate. I've been at Harry's. And I'm not exactly itching to get back home and find out, am I?"
"Are you two holding up all right?"
"Yeah." I nodded, giving my twin-- and my lover-- a squeeze. "We're holding up. I mean, well as can be expected. Concerned parents aren't letting their kids into the shop--"
"Even more than before."
"--Even more than before, and we can't get service anywhere."
"We may pretend to have Lee or someone buy us out. We can use a few charms to disguise ourselves, keep working..."
"Or write a sensational tell-all book and make loads."
"But it isn't true." Ron said again.
There was a long silence.
"Well, we should be going. I mean, as long as you two are all right, as long as you don't need anything, well, I expect you'll just want your privacy, won't you? It's been such a trying couple of days, sure you need your rest," Hermione said, very fast. She managed to get Ron back out, despite the fact that he was no longer in complete control of any of his limbs.
And then it was just us, against the world.
The next day, I bought a paper, sick roiling feeling in my stomach, needing to know if there was more, a letter or a snippet in the gossip column, or if we were lucky, a retraction, but even that wouldn't fix things.
Nothing. Not a mention of either of us.
"Anything good?" He ran a hand up my back, leaning his chin on my shoulder and looking over.
"Rita Skeeter's been arrested for being an illegal animagus." I shrugged. "If we care."
"She wrote those horrible things about Harry, remember? During the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She's a gos-- Hey, *she's* a gossip columnist!"
"I hope they took that into consideration when they passed sentence." I closed the paper viciously.
He kissed my neck, and I turned in his arms.
"Come on. Let's make love."
"Shouldn't we be starting our day?"
"Our busy day of no customers and not being able to go out in public? Our glamourous, fast-paced life as pariahs?"
"You're absolutely right, as always. Let's make love."
---/-/---
FIN
=^_^=
Anneko
Series: Songbook
Author/Artist: Anneko
Rating: Teen
Warning(s): Delicious, delicious twincest
Disclaimer: Characters within belong to J. K. Rowling, and not in any way, shape, or form to me.
A/N: It isn't songfic, inasmuch as lyrics aren't sandwiched in, but each fic in this series is very informed by a song on my Fred/George playlist.
Summary/Excerpt: Fred and George are Together, despite the odds. (oh, and this one's set in a lovely denial universe wherein Fred never died. Denial is our friend, it is the Precious...)
We didn't know who'd started up talk in town, just realized one day that business was abnormally slow, that people stared whenever we left the shop, looking at us like we were Death Eaters instead of semi-respectable businessmen.
After a while we put two and two together, and through some impossibly convoluted equations, we came up with... well, two, but we always come up with two. Eventually we put one and one together and the two fell into place and we realized, however it had happened, that people knew about us.
Well, they *thought* they knew about us, but they don't, not really. They don't understand what we are to each other, that we're everything. We didn't confirm anything, we didn't deny anything, either. It was really just a matter of getting through the rest of the day, and praying there wouldn't be a howler from Mum disowning us.
Ron and Hermione tumbled out of our fireplace that evening, looking harried-- and un-Harry-ed, although I suppose they'd be spending more time on their own without him now... Of course if they wanted to be alone, they wouldn't have come here.
We don't even bother leaping apart from each other when they appear. He keeps his head on my shoulder and my arm stays right around his shoulders.
"It was in the paper," Hermione starts in without preamble.
Ron coughs. A lot. Probably more than was absolutely necessary, really.
"Who'd put a thing like that in the paper?"
"It isn't even true." Ron finally said.
We didn't have the heart to correct him, but we didn't agree, either, and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Just the gossip page-- 'Around Diagon Alley', or somesuch nonsense. Lavender sent it to Ron asking if he'd seen it." She sounded a little miffed around 'Lavender'. "Anyway..."
"Has Mum read it?"
"Dunno, mate. I've been at Harry's. And I'm not exactly itching to get back home and find out, am I?"
"Are you two holding up all right?"
"Yeah." I nodded, giving my twin-- and my lover-- a squeeze. "We're holding up. I mean, well as can be expected. Concerned parents aren't letting their kids into the shop--"
"Even more than before."
"--Even more than before, and we can't get service anywhere."
"We may pretend to have Lee or someone buy us out. We can use a few charms to disguise ourselves, keep working..."
"Or write a sensational tell-all book and make loads."
"But it isn't true." Ron said again.
There was a long silence.
"Well, we should be going. I mean, as long as you two are all right, as long as you don't need anything, well, I expect you'll just want your privacy, won't you? It's been such a trying couple of days, sure you need your rest," Hermione said, very fast. She managed to get Ron back out, despite the fact that he was no longer in complete control of any of his limbs.
And then it was just us, against the world.
The next day, I bought a paper, sick roiling feeling in my stomach, needing to know if there was more, a letter or a snippet in the gossip column, or if we were lucky, a retraction, but even that wouldn't fix things.
Nothing. Not a mention of either of us.
"Anything good?" He ran a hand up my back, leaning his chin on my shoulder and looking over.
"Rita Skeeter's been arrested for being an illegal animagus." I shrugged. "If we care."
"She wrote those horrible things about Harry, remember? During the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She's a gos-- Hey, *she's* a gossip columnist!"
"I hope they took that into consideration when they passed sentence." I closed the paper viciously.
He kissed my neck, and I turned in his arms.
"Come on. Let's make love."
"Shouldn't we be starting our day?"
"Our busy day of no customers and not being able to go out in public? Our glamourous, fast-paced life as pariahs?"
"You're absolutely right, as always. Let's make love."
---/-/---
FIN
=^_^=
Anneko