Thanks to Kelly, for looking this over and giving me a spot of advice, and to Jo and Paula, for helping without even having read the piece!

For Ash's Fanfic Tournaments, May, week 3.

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In some ways, it is better like this, you think as you come to the realisation that no matter what you do, neither one of you is getting out of this alive.

There are five of them; you and Gid are completely surrounded.

And you, you will die as you lived: together.

From the beginning—

You came out first, using your first lungful of air to proclaim to the world that you were alive. He came tumbling out minutes later, silent as the grave. They thought he was dead, at first. You cried enough for the both of you.

—through the middle—

He runs after you, screaming even as you giggle fiercely. "Fabian Prewett, I swear, if you don't give it back, I'll tell mum!"

"You're too clever for that, Gid!" you toss back over your shoulder. "You don't want me to tell her what really happened with the lamp, do you?"

He doesn't say anything and you figure he's saving his breath until his chest collides with your legs and you both go sprawling. Even he can't help but laugh as he lands almost completely on top of you in a heap.

—and—

"Don't you touch him!" you yell as you turn around and find your brother backed into a wall, curling in on himself. Gid squeaks as a spell hits the stones near his head and rage tingles through your limbs.

Your wand is in your hand in an instant — spells fly before you have time to ask because, God, they are not allowed to hurt him.

You get detention for it but it's worth it a hundred times over because no one ever tries to bully Gideon ever again.

"For God's sake, Gid, I can't leave you alone for two minutes!"

—everything—

You know him well enough to see the bit of sadness in his eyes as you tug the dark jacket over your good green shirt. You meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I'm not leaving you, Gid," you say, cutting through everything straight to the heart of it.

"I know that," he says. "It's just…"

"I know. It's the first thing we aren't doing together."

Gideon nods.

You turn around, put a hand on his shoulder. "You are my brother," you say very deliberately. "You are my other half. There will never, ever be a time that you don't matter to me, and there will never, ever be anyone who matters more. All right?"

Gideon smiles at you. "Yeah." He ducks his head. "Same." He's never been a speaker, like you are. You are a speaker and Gid is a doer. "She's a lucky girl," he adds, and you smile.

It's your first date, and your brother isn't going with you, can't go with you, shouldn't.

But you're so ridiculously co-dependent that for a moment you almost wish he could, because you don't quite know how to function without him. You've never needed to before.

—that—

"We're done!" you yell, so utterly euphoric that you pick your not-so-little brother up and spin him around in a circle in a giant hug. You can't quite hold him for long though and you almost drop him, both of you stumble.

"Fabian!" he reprimands, but it is cut through with giggles that steal the sternness away.

"Can you believe it?" You've set him down now, and the words come out almost breathless. "We've graduated, Gid. We've actually graduated."

—it—

"Do you, Fabian Prewett, swear to uphold that which the Order of the Phoenix stands for, namely the rights of all human beings, whether magical or non?"

"I do so swear."

"And do you, Gideon Prewett, swear to uphold that which the Order of the Phoenix stands for, namely the rights of all human beings, whether magical or non?"

"I do so swear."

Dumbledore smiles at you over the rims of his spectacles. "Welcome to the Order, boys. I'm sure you'll serve us well."

You can't stop smiling and you look at your brother and see the grin mirrored there. This is it. This is the moment you begin to formally fight for what you believe in. This is the moment where the two of you begin to matter.

—encompasses. It seems only right that you would be together at the end as well.

You stand back to back, and you can feel the warmth of him. It's comforting, knowing that he is there, that if you die tonight — and you strongly suspect you will, because you know when a fight is lost and Dolohov's got murder in his eyes — you will die together. You heave out a heavy breath, trying to ignore the fact that there's a fluid you're almost certain is blood in your lungs. Ignoring the pain raging through your body, ignoring the fact that it is taking every ounce of energy you have left to remain standing. You will not lose your dignity, not even as you lose your life.

Your right hand, the one without a wand in it, scrabbles behind you, finds his right, his non-dominant. You grip it tightly. Dolohov cackles derisively.

"Isn't that cute?" he purrs, looking at your hands. You don't let go, because his opinion doesn't matter. Gideon's hand is trembling in yours, his shoulders shaking. He, like you, knows this fight is over. He's propped on one leg because the other won't function and his wand arm is injured badly. You're breathing blood and barely standing. They are toying with you, at this point, but you're done caring because it's given you a chance to catch your breath. You squeeze his hand three times, then two. When you squeeze his hand the sixth time you both simultaneously spring into motion, firing off as many spells as you can in the time that you have.

You see the green shooting from the corner of your eye and you leap without thinking, planting yourself in front of its path because you don't have time to tug Gideon out of the way.

It is the last thing you ever see.