Title: The Last

Author: tarotgal

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: G

Disclaimer: JKR came up with and owns these lovely characters I am playing with here. I get nothing from this apart from a warm fuzzy feeling. So please don't sue.

Summary: Fred and George are sick in bed together, and decisions must be made.

Notes: This fic inspired and was finished for weekly hatching #26

Feedback: Sure



The Last


     Reaching over at the same time, their hands met and bumped at the box which sat between them. They both sat up a little to peer in. Then they both sat back against their propped-up pillows with simultaneous sighs. "The last ode," Fred vocalized, sounding stuffed-up.


     George nodded and rubbed the back of his other hand against his nose. "You take it."


     Fred shook his head. "You sdeezed last. You take it."


     George shook his head as well. He sniffed a few times and said, "I had the last bobsicle. You take it."


     Fred sighed and pulled his hand back to tug the covers up higher on his chest. They pulled away a little from George in the process. "But I had the last glass of oradge juice. Add you deed it bore."


     George wrestled the covers back and hugged them to his chest. "How do you figure I deed it bore? I... I..." Quickly, he cupped a hand to his face. "eeeIHChuhhhhh! Sniff!" He groaned and wiped his hand on his shirt, then slumped down a little to get his shoulder beneath the covers.


     Sniffling and shivering were not uncommon lately, but he hated doing both at the same time. George scooted closer to his twin in bed for the warmth. "I dod't deed it bore," George finished. "We've got the sabe cold. We eved sdeeze albost idedtically."


     As though trying to prove George right, Fred's nose tickled with the urge to sneeze. He rubbed at his nose with the back of his freckled hand and leaned forward a bit, as though that would help the sneeze out. Fred did not have long to wait. "YIHChuhhhhh! EhhChehhhhhh!" He sniffed hard and rubbed more at his nose.


     George rubbed at his as well. But his breath caught and eyes closed before he could say even another word to Fred about anything. "IHH-Chihhhhh! EhhChuhhh!" His own sniffs were very wet and he looked from the box to the window. Snow fell thickly and steadily over their part of London. Outside their flat, Diagon Alley was blanketed in white. George turned back and eyed the box longingly.


     Noticing this, Fred insisted, "Go ahead. Take it, George."


     Giving in with a sigh, George reached over and pulled the last tissue from the tissue box. He folded it and took a deep breath before blowing his nose copiously into the top portion, then the bottom portion. He folded it again and blew again. Then he rubbed a remaining dry spot against his nose. He could have gone through another dozen tissues so thoroughly and still have a runny nose, but he did not have another dozen tissues. With a groan, George pitched it into the trash can.


     Fred smiled and turned with his side to the wall and pillows, facing George. "Better, ared't you?"


     George had to admit it had felt good to blow his nose a little. He nodded wearily, knowing what had to happen next and wishing he were not the one to have to do it. He coughed a couple times, trying to formulate some sort of excuse that would allow him to stay in Fred's nice warm bed. He shivered and pulled the blankets up to his chin.


     "HIHSchuhh! YihhhKushhhh!" George looked over at his twin, sneezing freely in bed beside him. The bed shook with the force of each sneeze, and George pulled his arm out to pat Fred on the back comfortingly as the sneezes seized him. "YihShuhhh! Ehh-hehh-IHShuhhh! IHHSHhhhh! Sniff!" He raised his arm and rubbed his nose against the lower part of his sleeve. Fred needed to blow his nose as badly as George had, if not worse. They simply were not going to last long with this cold and no tissues in the flat.


     With this realization, George groaned pulled himself out of bed. "All right. I'b goig. But this is the last tibe I let you talk be idto a deal like this." He shivered at the cold temperature of the room as he pulled off his pajama top and slipped a set of robes on. He kept his pajama bottoms on beneath for warmth as they could not be seen as he walked. Coughing into his shoulder, he put on shoes and walked across the bedroom, snatching the piece of paper on the bedside table along the way. He pushed the dizziness away and tried to ignore his congestion. He would make the trip there and back as fast as he could and then get right back into bed.


     As George reached for his woolen cloak, an identical hand reached out for the one beside his. George looked over to see Fred had dressed as well, and he gave his twin a puzzled look. "You should be back id bed. Rebeber what we said ad hour ago? The ode to use ub the last tissue has to go to the store? There's doe reasod both of us should be out there feelig biserable."


     "Bisery loves cobady." Smiling, Fred pulled on his cloak. "You should dow I would't really let you go to the store alode id this coditiod. Sniff! Snifff!" He rubbed his nose against his sleeve again.


     Feeling rather relieved that Fred was going with, George gave a bit of a smile. "Well, at least you wod't be able to blabe be if I forget sobethig at the store." He gave a nod towards the list he'd grabbed off the night stand earlier. They'd been making it out all day once they'd begun running out of things.


     Fred nodded and leaned against the wall a moment as dizziness took him over. Their fevers were not high, but combined with fatigue they were both feeling quite out of sorts. "Add this way if I collabse, you'll be there to get be ub off the floor."


     Nodding in agreement and knowing Fred would do the same for him, George grabbed his set of keys and headed out for the snow-covered Diagon Alley streets.