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Deepest Secrets	By : gHoStWRiTTeR Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Okay! I give up! I admit it all belongs to J.K! Are you happy now?

Warning: mind fucks, innuendo, sexual content, and who the fuck knows what else. Beware!

Chaos, copyright 2002

THE LAST WITCH OF 15TH CENTURY NEW GUINY, the book read, WAS HUNTED DOWN BY THREE YOKLES AND ONE AUSTRALIAN, ALL WITH WHAT SEEMED PITCH-FORKES, BUT SPECIALISTS...

A white hand was obstructing Fred's view. He looked up to see the sensual Slytherin standing over him, his hand down on Fred's History book, that same serene look washed over his usually jeering features. Right there in the library, in front of Harry, Hermionie, and that twat of a brother of his at the next table!

He must have been a spectacle, looking around at the library surrounding him as if Draco were all over him already. In Fred's mind, that look, that soft, milky feeling Draco had only shared with him and him alone felt almost as personal and close to him as it were an actual kiss. Even closer to him than a kiss could be. He wouldn't be surprised if that was George's dark secret. But he retorted almost immediately at the comment, mentally slapping himself. That //wasn't// funny.

Draco just stood there, his ice eyes excluding everything but the redhead he looked down at. The pain in them was lessened. Perhaps these were the makings of some strange snake mating call, mused mockingly. But on a more serious note, this could be the sign of something he was barely getting to know. Something deeper even than George's secret.

He shook his head at this. He didn't want to have another thing to dig out. George's drama and veil of self-protection was job enough, thank you very much. And with George's recent over-dramatization of everything they had shared that night, and Fred's indiscrete prodding was giving him a hand- full (not to mention an ear-full whenever he tried to ask him why he was being such an overgrown kindergartener).

Draco, presently, was doing nothing, and his elaborate nothing was attracting the curious looks of many students around them. Fred placed his hand discretely over the silver blonde's, meaning only to shake him from whatever peaceful waking sleep he found himself in. It worked, and he stirred, a great deal actually. So much so that he turned around to look at the gaping fifth and sixth years and frowned to himself. He retreated his hand so he could place both behind his back formally, while he leaned over Fred to whisper, "Meet me at the edge of the lake during lunch, and don't bring your look-a-like."

With a flick of his platinum-blonde hair and a quick turn on his heel, he was gone and dashing through the hallways outside the library. Girl admirers turned to gawk after him. Fred doubted if he should go or not. He most certainly knew what this certain cad was famous for: hunting down his prey in a romantic pursuit, and coming in for the kill just when they were vulnerable enough. Then he would drop you as quickly as a vulture dropped the useless bones from his devoured carcass. But what he had seen in that boy's eyes...That couldn't be an act. Not even Tom Cruise could pull that one off. Just that made each visit of his worth it. Those eyes.... He thought hastily that he should shut the fuck up before he mentally physically abused himself again because he sounded like a queer fool. Albeit, he still showed up during lunchtime at the edge of the lake.

Draco was sitting at the edge of a diverted pool, somewhere off of the main lake and into a clearing in the beginning of the woods. It was a pleasant, cool place, a light breeze rustling the leaves of the branches overhead, and the sun shining down on them to create a blue-green canopy overhead, which only served to make the secluded area richer with shade and spring warmth. Fred hesitated at the side of one of the trees caging the din of peace, so he was entirely hidden in shadow. Draco was out of school clothes and now clad in a long-sleeve and a pair of blue jeans, a cross dangling from a leather cord around his neck.

While Fred stood in exile from the pond, Draco sprawled himself out on the mossy floor of the clearing and supported his weight on his elbows, gazing quietly into the calm, transparent, shallow, depth of the pool, where a few small fish glinted in the blue light of the foliage. He retorted at himself for not having changed out of his uniform, suddenly aware of how hot he felt in black.

The platinum teenager turned his head gently to look at the secluded form of a tall, nervous, fiery Griffindor student. Fred suddenly felt uneasy under the cool gaze, which felt and looked as beautifully still as the pond.

"Won't you join me?" Draco's voice was as smooth as silk, yet it had the smallest note of warmth in it. Though Fred supposed it was only because he was overly observant. Fred stepped cautiously into the clearing, as if he were a mouse stepping into the claws of a cat, and let himself be entirely entombed in green/blue flora, standing tall over the resting boy and the pool, which he could now see had an equally mossy bottom. He folded his arms over his chest and tried to look away from the cerulean eyes scanning him, by looking into the pond with forced fascination. It really wasn't that interesting.

"How did you find my elaborate meeting place?"

Fred supported his weight on nothing, whilst he continued to follow the slow, dry, path of a copper coloured fish. "I used to use this as a hide- out when I first arrived to Hogwarts. I thought you might come here."

"You must have me all figured out." He gave a short, dry, bark of laughter. Fred looked over at him with what he wanted to seem like spite, but was rounded off to be more like a mild version of contempt when his warm eyes met the cold ones of the he he had come to meet. The dark in them was as prominent as George's had been the other night. His face had suddenly gone a frightfully serious; an expression which gave his glass eyes a look of total sorrow and self-pity.

Fred felt the indescribable urge to be completely honest with him, with his feelings and words. "I don't know what to make of you, really." He said it so quietly his words barely left his mouth. It sounded as if he were saying it to himself.

Draco lifted his knees to his chest and hugged them, so he looked like a lonely, tearful child, looking into the rocky, moss-covered floor of the pool. He once again looked far too young for his age.

"Why do you suddenly pursue me?" The words spilled out of him like water overflowing in a full glass. He hadn't wanted to say it, like when he had asked George that utter stupidity about his personal secret. Though this didn't even have half the effect on Draco as it had had on George.

He sat as tranquil as the composed vegetation, eyes growing clouded over and distant. "Because you're the only one who notices."

Fred frowned a bit to himself at not having noticed that he was noticing something of such importance. "Notice what?"

"Me." He drew his legs closer to chest so that he doubled over them. "And your brother, George."

"How am I not to notice my own twin? He's always there, isn't he? Though sometimes I wish he wasn't...I feel like strangling him sometimes."
Draco curled his pink lips into a meek, half-hearted smile in the direction of the pool. His earnest smiles were even better than his serene look. But Fred shook himself from his sudden wave of dreaminess to concentrate on what Draco started to say.

"You look at me differently than you with any one else. I know you're searching me for something, some hint of what I might be holding from everyone else. You look at your brother in the same way: looking for something in him. You're right, you know." He looked up at Fred know, who was boring a hole into the side of his head with his eyes. Fred shivered under the cold glare, which seemed to rise a sudden chill into the air.

Seeing as he was being waited for, he asked warily, "What do you mean?"

Draco partially smiled again, giving rise to a dreamy look and the tiniest of dimples in his cheek. "We both share the same bleak enigma. Though, I have a darker bit of knowledge to add to it."

Fred raised an eyebrow. Even though he trusted the silver-snake because of the unmatchable feeling in his eyes, he was abruptly filled with a very high suspicion. He wasn't believing a word of this. George didn't even know the little blonde git existed, let alone share something as personal as that with him. He couldn't bring himself to believe it-no mater what it was.

"So, why am I here, then?" Fred found himself saying rather discourteously.

Draco turned back to the fresh dew pond. "Because I want you here..No, let me rephrase that. I want //you//."

This last sentence struck Fred hard. He had been so formally cold with the boy. Perhaps he should show how warm he was capable of being. This seemed like a good plan.

He got down on his hands and knees next to the hunched form and brought his lips to the soft white ear-lobe of Draco's bowed head. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully, and kissed the smooth plane of his cheek. Draco didn't turn but he moved back slightly so he could rest his head side-ways onto Fred's shoulder. He blew air happily onto his neck, while Fred stared ahead blankly.

"Draco," he said quietly to the shrubbery ahead. "What secret?"

Draco lifted himself slowly and patiently from the soft ground of the clearing while Fred drew himself up to a kneeling position to look up at him. The blonde brushed a strand of stray silver hair from his eyes and partly closed them to look down into the pond once more. He gave a small sigh and fumbled with the cross on his chest. "That, most beautiful twin, is for you to find out."

With that settled he took off at a quick pace back to the castle. Fred lingered near the pool of tadpoles before leaving himself. He thought strongly about everything Draco had told him the whole way back to Hogwarts castle. He needed to have a serious talk with George, if George was willing to stop being a large child and accept Fred's deep apology. This would be hard to do without mentioning his encounter with Draco, because, if what Fred thought was going on was in fact going on, George would be in even more of a fluster than before.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's amazing how one twin can always find the other, no matter how far away they are from each other. George was walking alongside Seamus Finnigan (of all people) in some southwest wing, talking hurriedly about something or other. He seemed mightily out-raged when Fred plied him from his talking companion, though this didn't matter to Fred. He had worked up quite a curiosity on the way over. //What time could George have shared with Draco, where and why? Did they have a relationship, what kind? And if so, were they still in it? Was George in pain or ecstasy? Did he feel guilt, or anguish? // All these things ran through his head in abundance- not including the fact that Fred was wondering tediously if George was thinking or had thought about him, Fred, in that way (the way they had shared that other night).

He was a flurry of emotion as he took George by his arm and diverted him into an old, unused classroom. George scowled at him and pretended not to notice he had been taken from his friend in the first place. This was a very hard thing to do, and George did it poorly. He had too much emotion to show none- though he did display utter contempt very well, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot with vengeance.

"Georgie!" Fred cried desperately to his scornful brother. George turned his head towards a window showing the corridor- where Seamus stood anxiously, peering nervously through the window- pretending not to hear him. Fred could scream. Why did he have to be so difficult!

He couldn't restrain himself from taking the boy by the shoulders and shaking him violently. George looked up at him with incredible horror when he was done thrashing him about, even though he had done him no physical harm. "George," Fred said sternly, not taking his hands off his brother's shoulders. "You //have// to listen to me." Now that he had his attention, he let go and stood back slightly as George straightened himself. "You've been driving me up the wall with your angry pouting and hissy-fits. I'm sick and tired of it, you hear. I don't want any more of it, understand?"

George pouted as much as Fred described before looking out the window again at hopping Seamus and nodding acquiescently. // Good. // "Now that that's settled," he continued, feeling very highly about himself. "I wanted to talk to you about your...relationships.."

George pouted once more, but said nothing.

// Serves him right. //

"I don't mean it in a jealous, over-protective brotherly way. But just out of plain curiosity, how many lovers have you had...previously?"

George looked at him with curiosity; seeing him in a new light, if you will. "Err... Seven, if you don't count meaningless flirting."

"And counting all that?"

"Nine."

Fred opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but George stopped him by holding out his hand, the look of curiosity growing deeper. "Who they are is personal to me. Some things are better left untold." He lowered his hand, obviously thinking he had one this battle. // Not so fast. // Fred was determined to pry information from him, even if it was the last thing he did.

"Just one question, Georgie." He loved calling his twin that, because of the rage he knew it roused in him. "How many of them were guys?"

George took a good long time in earnest deep thought, mentally counting, most likely, how many they had been. He finally supplied Fred's anxious mind with what by him was a reasonable reply. "Four." Anticipating Fred's next question he hastily responded, "In total."

Fred took his time now, thinking of the next prying question. Though, as he looked at his brother once again finding his gaze on poor eager Seamus, Fred found a wonderful jeering reproach. "That puppy-boy out there one of them?"

George glowered, but retained his over-flowing emotion with more self- control than Fred was capable of. That was the glory of George, he thought happily. A furnace of smoldering passion, yet the self-control of a nun when it was required or forced. And, despite himself, he truly believed George had been, or was, involved with Seamus. You could tell by the way Seamus looked at him: like hungry cat staring at a can of cat food being opened. It was almost the way he looked at Draco, but that was another story.

George left, as nonplussed as he could manage in his state of antagonizing anger. But, as he left and was greeted at the door by his escort, Seamus stole a second to enter the classroom and have a moment alone with Fred.

He was a small boy, even for his age, with a very boyish, freckled face. A darling, that one, but nothing more, in Fred's mind. He stood with his chest out and his legs spread wide, as if preparing for attack. His child- like face could conceal no emotion. He was full to the brim with rage, his cheeks flushed deep rose from it, his ribbon mouth screwed up in the best sneer he could manage.

Fred lifted his hand to his mouth in a mock yawn. This was his brother's lover, he needn't have patience with him. "You're wasting my time," he drawled sleepily. Seamus didn't move a muscle, rage filling him more and more each passing second.

"He doesn't want you," Seamus said through bared teeth. "He want //me//, no matter what he says. No matter what either of them say! I'm //his// favourite too. And you know who //he// is. //He// loved your brother too. For a long time. But now I'm //his// favourite. I love //him// so, but not as much as I am in love with George. I'm going to love them both, though. And you can't stand in my way!" He stole forward to push Fred by the shoulders. Fred lifted his arms to cover his face as he fell over backwards over a stray desk. The little bugger was strong!

"I'm not going to let a stick-insect like you come traipsing in as if you've fucked everything and its cousin, and hog up //my// lovers! They're mine! //You// can't have them!"

He trudged off in a huff and slammed the door behind him so strongly that he practically knocked it off its hinges.

Fred sat toppled over on the dusty ground of the class-room, quite dizzy and a one hell of whole lot confused.

// What the /fuck/ was that! //

After running everything in his mind round and round a few times, and thinking all the things he had half shouted half said out thoroughly, and being quite sure he had things figured out well-enough to get him by, he stood up and dusted himself off.

So, his thoughts were: Obviously, //He// was Draco. Seamus was or is involved with Draco. Seamus was presently involved romantically with George. George had told him everything about what they had been up to, and had apparently been talking about him an awful lot lately. Draco had turned off Seamus completely, whether they were together or not, and Seamus had some how found out that Draco and he were...together. And in conclusion to everything that had just happened in the classroom, Seamus was a //very// jealous lover. Fred now knew to stay away from him in further events. He would never be able to shake him off. Not to mention the fact that he was extremely greedy.

What struck Fred the hardest was that it was Seamus the whole time. The little, joyous, tike that Ron spoke so fondly of. The little puppy-like boy a friend of a friend of George's was so keen on. He had only heard good things about the kid. And now to find out that he was a slut who slept his way around Hogwarts? What was the world coming to! Next thing he would find Hermione prostituting herself on Diagon Alley- knock on wood and god forbid!

If this wasn't utter chaos, he didn't know what was! And what to do was the worst part of it all. He hadn't the slightest clue where the fuck he should go. To whom. This would soon be the hottest gossip travelling the teenage population of Hogwarts since the Voldemort scare. Surely there must have been a wondering student when Seamus had unleashed his bitchiness. And we all knew the little fucker to have a big mouth. Things would be impossible for god knows how long. God fuck that little shite.

Now he knew what to do. He would go straight to Draco. He was the one solution to this living hellhole. He would know what to do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~don't hate me because I'm beautiful~*~

kisses

gHoSt WRiTTeR (aka Tom)
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Deepest Secrets