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auntbijouTitle: Tangled
Author:auntbijou
Rating: G
Pairing: Twins
Summary: Molly experiences some frustration when she tries to separate the boys…
Words: 613
Disclaimer: The Potterverse is owned by the lovely JK Rowling, and I am just dipping my pretty toes in it for the moment.
A/N: I wrote this as a drabble foremiime quite some time ago. I spotted it when I was looking through my works in progress to see what to work on, and read it over again, and was caught by an unexpected poignancy, considering what happens in “Deathly Hallows.” So, I decided to touch it up a bit, and post it. I hope you like it!
When Fred and George were only five years old, their mother decided that they needed to start sleeping in separate beds. It didn't work very well, though. After all, they'd spent nine months in her womb, curled together, pressed skin to skin, bumping and hiccupping in tandem. And they'd spent two years in the same cot, since there was only the one and not enough money for another. Two years sleeping with their hands wound together, arms around each other, hair spread out in curly waves over the pillow they shared. And when they graduated to the "big boy bed," again, there was only the one, and by that time, there was no question of who would sleep where, on which side. They simply climbed in together, pulled up the blankets, foreheads pressed together, and went to sleep.
Molly really should not have been surprised, therefore, to see a definite lack of enthusiasm on Fred and George's parts when she and Arthur excitedly showed them the new beds sitting in their cramped little room. The twins dutifully got into the beds set on either side of the room, too far for them to even hold hands across the intervening space. They let her kiss their foreheads, smoothing curly soft hair back from their faces. And they stared at the ceiling when she closed the door.
“Really,” she said to Arthur as they made their way up the stairs, “they're too close. It’s time for them to spend a bit of time away from each other, become a little more independent.”
"Whatever you say, dear," Arthur said, kissing her forehead, and wisely holding his own counsel.
It should have been no surprise to her, really, to walk in the next morning and find them tangled together in one bed like kittens in a litter, mouths open, hands clasped... she gave a little huff of frustration, and tried again. And again. And again. For three weeks, she tried everything she could think of, and still, every morning, they ended up in the same beds. She tried separate rooms. Spelling the doors shut. Spelling the covers to keep them in their beds. And no matter what she did, when morning came and she opened the door, there they were, Fred and George, wrapped together and sleeping peacefully. In one bed.
"Dear," said Arthur, after listening to her rant and rave, "don't you think you're making a bit much about this? After all, did your mother succeed with Fabian and Gideon?"
Molly's mouth fell open. "Well... no... not exactly..."
"They're twins, Mollywobbles," he said lovingly, pulling her down to sit on his lap, his hand moving over the soft swell of her belly and the child within. "They've been together since the very beginning."
"But..." and tears filled her eyes. "But... my brothers... died together and..."
"And that's the way it should be," he said softly. "Can you imagine one wanting to survive without the other?"
She stared out the kitchen window, her hands playing with his hair, and she sniffed, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Something like peace settled over her face, and that night, when the twins went into their room, the old bed was back. Their mum kissed their foreheads as she tucked them in. "You're my little loves," she said. "Take good care of each other."
They smiled sleepily at her. "We will," said George, holding Fred's hand under the covers. "We always do," said Fred, wrapping his foot around George's.
Molly smiled and turned out the light, walking to the door. When she looked back, she saw them curled together, foreheads touching, already sound asleep. And it felt right.
Author:
auntbijou
Rating: G
Pairing: Twins
Summary: Molly experiences some frustration when she tries to separate the boys…
Words: 613
Disclaimer: The Potterverse is owned by the lovely JK Rowling, and I am just dipping my pretty toes in it for the moment.
A/N: I wrote this as a drabble for
emiime quite some time ago. I spotted it when I was looking through my works in progress to see what to work on, and read it over again, and was caught by an unexpected poignancy, considering what happens in “Deathly Hallows.” So, I decided to touch it up a bit, and post it. I hope you like it!When Fred and George were only five years old, their mother decided that they needed to start sleeping in separate beds. It didn't work very well, though. After all, they'd spent nine months in her womb, curled together, pressed skin to skin, bumping and hiccupping in tandem. And they'd spent two years in the same cot, since there was only the one and not enough money for another. Two years sleeping with their hands wound together, arms around each other, hair spread out in curly waves over the pillow they shared. And when they graduated to the "big boy bed," again, there was only the one, and by that time, there was no question of who would sleep where, on which side. They simply climbed in together, pulled up the blankets, foreheads pressed together, and went to sleep.
Molly really should not have been surprised, therefore, to see a definite lack of enthusiasm on Fred and George's parts when she and Arthur excitedly showed them the new beds sitting in their cramped little room. The twins dutifully got into the beds set on either side of the room, too far for them to even hold hands across the intervening space. They let her kiss their foreheads, smoothing curly soft hair back from their faces. And they stared at the ceiling when she closed the door.
“Really,” she said to Arthur as they made their way up the stairs, “they're too close. It’s time for them to spend a bit of time away from each other, become a little more independent.”
"Whatever you say, dear," Arthur said, kissing her forehead, and wisely holding his own counsel.
It should have been no surprise to her, really, to walk in the next morning and find them tangled together in one bed like kittens in a litter, mouths open, hands clasped... she gave a little huff of frustration, and tried again. And again. And again. For three weeks, she tried everything she could think of, and still, every morning, they ended up in the same beds. She tried separate rooms. Spelling the doors shut. Spelling the covers to keep them in their beds. And no matter what she did, when morning came and she opened the door, there they were, Fred and George, wrapped together and sleeping peacefully. In one bed.
"Dear," said Arthur, after listening to her rant and rave, "don't you think you're making a bit much about this? After all, did your mother succeed with Fabian and Gideon?"
Molly's mouth fell open. "Well... no... not exactly..."
"They're twins, Mollywobbles," he said lovingly, pulling her down to sit on his lap, his hand moving over the soft swell of her belly and the child within. "They've been together since the very beginning."
"But..." and tears filled her eyes. "But... my brothers... died together and..."
"And that's the way it should be," he said softly. "Can you imagine one wanting to survive without the other?"
She stared out the kitchen window, her hands playing with his hair, and she sniffed, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Something like peace settled over her face, and that night, when the twins went into their room, the old bed was back. Their mum kissed their foreheads as she tucked them in. "You're my little loves," she said. "Take good care of each other."
They smiled sleepily at her. "We will," said George, holding Fred's hand under the covers. "We always do," said Fred, wrapping his foot around George's.
Molly smiled and turned out the light, walking to the door. When she looked back, she saw them curled together, foreheads touching, already sound asleep. And it felt right.
