(Untitled)

[boom_meup]

"George!" he yelled, hurtling down the stairs to the adjoining door. "George! You awake?" As usual, the door was open and Fred raced through it.

It was the morning afternoon after the 742nd reunion and Fred had just gotten The Daily Profit. The newspaper clutched in his hand, he found his twin sitting at the table. Well, sitting was a loose

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[george_goesboom]

That last (supposedly comedic, though definitely not hilarious in any way as far at the painfully throbbing mush of brain matter that currently took up entirely too much room inside his skull was concerned) shout taking the form of his name finally had George's head jerking up from its comfortable resting place on the cool wooden table. He blinked wildly at his surroundings, hurriedly trying to gather his wits back up.

"Huh, wah, believe it?" he muttered instinctively. It took a few more moments of blinking before he could actually focus in on the text that had just been shoved in his face, and another few silent seconds before what his eyes were capturing actually connected with his brain. When they finally did, his bloodshot eyes widened, his muddled thoughts suddenly racing as he leaned in to skim the rest of the article. "Bloody...what the...merlin's..."

[boom_meup]

Fred heaved down into the chair beside George, pulling the cold eggs toward him. Taking a mouthful, he said "Happy bloody reunion."

He swallowed and shook his head. And then stopped as the clanging inside increased. "Who would do that to Parvati?" Fred was actually devastated. He'd grown pretty close to the younger Griffyndor when they were growing up.

[george_goesboom]

"Bloody..." George muttered again, still trying to get his muddled thoughts back into some kind of relative hungover (whatever it was that they had combined to create that hellish concoction he had spent too much of the previous evening consumer should never be broguht together again) order.

His gaze flickered with a kind of distant confusion between his stolen eggs and the Daily Prophet's blazing headline. "I mean...she was pretty sloshed last I saw her, but how...what even...fucking..."

[boom_meup]

"Fuck," Fred agreed, before putting his own head down on the table. When he spoke again, it was muffled, his lips pressing into the wooden surface. "....bloody..... kill 'em... self.... fuck."

He rocked his head back and forth. It hurt, but not as much as... "Merlin... Vati? Seriously?"

It wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening again.