Disclaimer: dun own HP

Warnings: Slash (dude on dude), twincest (duh).

Explanation: Um... I know it's really late... I just... felt like writing more twincest... O.O;;

Thankies so much for all your reviews, guys :) They drove me mad with happiness. ...That's really why this is even here, actually... 'Specially you, paddy. Don't know what I did without you...

X

The second time was... fine.

Well, the second first, really. Their first night of their second year was perfectly fine. Perfectly. It was also... odd. Because George adored it.

He didn't remember the beds being so small. Well, they weren't really, but he had still remembered them being a lot larger. He remembered them being too far apart, and the hangings being too opaque, and the floors being really cold.

But the beds were actually fine. They were larger than the ones at home, and softer. Better made. They were only a little distance apart, and it wasn't really a feature he paid much attention to, anyway. The hangings were sort of translucent, but he had no intention of looking through them, anyway. The floors were really cold. But he didn't plan on keeping his feet attached to them, anyway, so he couldn't see how that would prove a problem.

Judging from Fred's silent state, he figured the other had just deduced the same.

"Nicer than the first time, isn't it," he found himself mumbling. It was true. He almost preferred Hogwarts to the Burrow now. Less people to share with, more targets and victims, and every moment of the day was booked for the pair of them, together. ...Why had he been so afraid the first time?

Behind the translucent curtains, he saw Fred nod. "Totally."

When the boy pulled the too-small pajamas over his head, the other outstretched his arms, and the first subconsciously walked into them. George pulled him closer, onto the bed. "Were we in mine, last time?" he wondered aloud. Fred nodded, and yawned.

"Doesn't matter. I think this is actually my bed, anyway."

George blinked. "Is it?"

Fred shrugged. "I don't know, s'not like we've ever slept in separate ones."

George grinned. He crawled backwards, and lifted up the covers. Fred joined him, instantly. "True, true. You're right. Doesn't matter."

They both lied down, and faced the ceiling. Or the canopy. It was rather plain, but nicer than the stone ceiling, he supposed. It was fine.

He was just about to push an arm under Fred's shoulders, but his twin beat him to it. He leaned his head on the other's shoulder, when it happened. Fred pulled the covers up to their chins, and even though the floor was really cold, the bed was very warm. It was cozy, and comfy, and made him feel oddly hot. Fred's body heat was probably a large contributing factor.

"We should do something special for our first day back," Fred muttered, out of the blue. George nodded against him, without there actually being a point. His twin squeezed him a little, and George wrapped his arms around the other redhead's waist. He felt... tired.

"Maybe we could go to Hogsmede for supplies in the morning," he suggested. "We still haven't tested every route on the map, yet, and there's got to be one there."

The map was special, and told them anything and everything about Hogwarts, and resided in their trunk, under the bed. Their trunk, because neither packed by themselves. Neither had anything for only themselves.

Well, Fred had inherited a book from Charlie once, that was specially for him. But they both read it equally as many times, and it was still theirs.

Bill had given him a radio, which was actually worse than the book, because it only worked on Tuesdays. It was theirs, anyway. They only listened to it together.

Neither the book nor the radio was currently under their bed. No need to read the book again, especially while at Hogwarts. Why bring a large and heavy radio, if it only worked on certain days?

Their trunk only had clothes and school stuff in it, actually. The clothes were also theirs. Their mother bought them separate things. They shared.

And some of it was Ron's or Percy's, because Ron was almost their size, and because Percy was just fun to steal from.

He nuzzled into his brother's neck, and found himself yawning, against his wishes. He wasn't tired. He had eaten too much at the feast, and Fred had had to drag him to the common room, and he had had to drag Fred up to his bed. They had painted Percy's wand pink the night before, which was difficult, because the paint had had to be specially ordered, as their parents were old enough to magic things into different colours, and what would they possibly want to turn pink, anyway? They had pointed it out to everyone in Gryffindor, of course, and Oliver Wood was the only one who defended Percy, but even that was after he had had a good laugh himself. They had hidden Scabbers when they left, and the post had revealed an angry letter asking where they had locked him up, because Ron was very upset. Filch was after them, because they had missed a bit of the feast to drag a pile of leaves inside, and after jumping in it, Lee Jordan helped them spread it through the halls.

But he wasn't tired. Exhausted, maybe. But never tired.

They were also late for the feast, because they had found an empty closet. Not a broom closet, an empty closet. They stayed behind, and told Lee they wanted to know what it was for. Fred had pulled him inside, when Lee had left. George had kissed him. They hadn't been able to tell each other why they closed the door, or why they kept their laughter down, or why they had to kiss. They just... did. It was nice.

Fred was nice. Really nice. George gave him a little squeeze.

Really, really, really nice.

"George?" Fred suddenly whispered. He looked up. Fred looked sleepy. George kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"What?" he answered.

Fred turned a little on his side. George had to readjust, and put his head back on the pillow. The pillow was softer, but Fred was nicer. He looked... curious. "What do you think pulls the carriages?"

George shrugged. "'Don't know. I think I liked the boats better, though."

Fred nodded. "Me too."

George didn't know why. Fred didn't either.

There was a pause. George didn't understand why his mouth fell open again. "Do you think there's really a giant squid? We never actually saw it last year..."

Fred shrugged. "'Don't know. Maybe we should go see."

George grinned, and blushed a little. He couldn't help it. The lake was... scary. The water was really murky if you went to far in, and no one seemed to know how far down it went, and there were rumors of more than just a giant squid in it. He never saw other first years swimming in it.

But other first years didn't have Fred. He grinned. And unembarrassed, voiced his fear. "Don't you think it'll be freaky?"

Fred's hand somehow found his, and squeezed it. Fred was blushing too, and biting his lip. He nodded. "Yah, I know, but you'll hold my hand... right?"

George nodded, smiling broadly. "Of course. And you'll hold me tight if the squid's really big... right?"

They weren't little boys anymore. They were second years. ...But second years were allowed to be scared, right? They weren't all that scared... it was nice to be able to talk about these things. Nice to be understood.

Fred was nodding, and smiling back. He leaned over, and hugged George, warmly. "Of course. I'll hold you tight, anyway."

George returned the hug. "I'll hold your hand no matter what."

And it was... nice.

When they pulled apart, George rolled on his side, facing away from his twin, with the largest grin he had ever worn. He felt Fred's arms loop around his stomach, and hold him loosely close. He could feel Fred's chin on his shoulder, warm breath at his ear, and his stomach against his back. It was warm. Really warm. Just the way George liked it.

He wasn't tired. But he yawned, anyway. Then giggled, because Fred was kissing the back of his neck, and fiddling with his hair.

"And to think we were embarrassed to sleep together the first night here," he was whispering. His breath smelled sort of stale, and the rest of him smelled kind of musky. George decided he liked it. His hands fell on top of Fred's.

"That's not going to happen again," he repeated, without need. It did seem awfully silly. There was nothing wrong with it. Nothing.

There was nothing wrong with anything.

Because he was always going to squeeze Fred's hand, and Fred was always going to hold him tight.

They were going to keep pulling pranks, and keep exploring, and keep discovering.

So nothing was ever going to be wrong.

Not the beds, or their gap, or their curtains.

Or the floor.

X

Not as good or long as the last one, I know. ((sweatdrop)) um, terribly sorry. I just wanted to contribute more to the wonderful world of twincest... oh, and if I do ever post more, as the years get higher and higher they're relationship will get more heated... sorry, but they're only twelve or so, now...

Newho, please review. Means a lot to me ;) (And might get you another chapter...)