AN: Trying an HP one-shot. Attempt. Song-fic, yeah its another Pink Floyd, couldn't find a better song than this.

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

The opening of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and the coming of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" came at the best of time, though it seemed "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" was slowly becoming known by his original Pen-name "Voldemort" or popular amongst some as "Lord Voldemort". Nonetheless George was happy to be in business, it gave him and his brother Fred to work more on making new products for the store allowed freedom without restrictions Hogwarts had impended on them. Fred enjoyed meeting new people, being the extrovert he was, and George enjoyed whatever made Fred happy most of the time.

Yet something was happening. It began when Fred met Julie, a foreigner from America who was trying to make it with her new band. George couldn't remember the name of it; he failed to believe any haughty ugly piece of powder and cream could actually have the organization skills to put together a band so he tried to deny it silently every time Fred decided to talk about her. It was pure jealousy and George knew that, he could never stop thinking of Fred as leaving him for someone else, after all, before they left school they really did do everything together, neither one ever actually had sex without each other. The In-Crowd liked to come back from they're escapades with the two twins saying they had a "Weasley Ketchup Sandwich" The two twins found it terribly comical that the condiment ketchup was used as a porn name, and for two people at that.

But that wasn't even all of it.

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skys from pain.

Dark streets, foggy and moist with sick air, the color has all gone from Diagon Alley, the sweet shops are reduced to peeling paint and the scurrying of rats. Olivanders that was almost a landmark for the entire wizarding world was reduced to dusty wand cases that littered the once neat shelves. The darkness had definitely spread to the Leaky Cauldron, Tom hadn't had many customers in months, save a few people on business usually Aurors. Flourish and Blotts and Madame Malkins were still in business but mainly because books were of importance at any time, may it be dark or light and that goes the same for robes.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was still open because it was a joke shop; the reason was simple. George still had a hard time focusing on the falling people around him, the dark air that he and Fred could not escape. Between George and his walls though, it was much more. Fred seemed to pass the days with so much more strength than he, Fred could smile at anyone and receive a smile in return, when George tried he found that his smile was not sufficient to please the customers. When Fred went off with Julie George was at his worst, he never had to run the shop alone though he did need to spend nights alone that he used to fill with Fred and him having fun or just enjoy each other's constant company. It seemed as though Fred had better things to do now, and George's happiness wasn't really his brother's problem anyway George figured.

In the air, it was darkening. George left the shop one night to find something to do, something he had never done before, something to make the impending darkness disappear if only for a few hours.

His shoes flopped in the wet streets; he had changed clothes once Fred had left for another outing with Julie and now wished he had stayed in his nice robe and good shoes, his trainers weren't nearly big enough for him anymore and at least the leather of his good shoes would allow the rain to slide off him. All the shops were closed, even Borgin and Burkes and closed for the night, George was debating on going back to the shop before his eyes fell on the brick entrance to the Muggle City district of London.

Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?

No one noticed George as he wandered around the electric lights of a shopping district in Muggle London; he hadn't wandered too much around before he came to the only shop that was still open, "Harris's Pharmaceuticals".

Well George had no bloody clue as to what the hell a Pharmaceutical was or if it came with a free rubber ducky or some other ridiculous Muggle item.

George walked in, looking to his left and right, rows of what seemed to be bottles of candy lined the walls ahead was a bristly looking old man with a white coat on. George figured he would look around at the rows before he attempted to speak with the man.

George had once heard of a friend who took some Muggle medicine once, George wondered if these were what he took, little pieces of medicine in glass bottles. His friend had said it was like being high on Mary Worner*(A.N: I think it's safe to say that natural drugs both Muggle and Magic folk par take in) except that it was harder, faster and he didn't smoke it in a pipe but swallowed the medicine.

But which one would George try?

One bottle caught his attention, it was small and filled with small round red pieces, they looked far easier to take than a lot of the other ones around him, and the only problem was it was behind the man at the front.

"Excuse me, may I help you young man?" The man asked him he had a high-pitched voice that vaguely reminded George of Professor Flitwick.

"Um, actually yeah, how much is the that bottle behind you, the one that's red?" George asked, walking towards the man.

He looked at George for a moment then turned around to look at the bottle. "That one there? Well that all depends, do you have a prescription?" The man didn't sound all too friendly suddenly. George couldn't figure out why.

"That's the one, like a note?"

"A prescription from your doctor?"

"Well…no, I didn't know you needed one." George blushed at the man who had so embarrassed him, even though no one else was around. Muggle things were harder than he imagined buying.

Suddenly a ringing noise emitted from behind the rows behind the wrinkled old man, "Is that all then?" He asked.

"Yes, thank you." George turned to go, and then remembered the dark and wet cobblestone streets, and Fred laughing with Julie.

A smile from a veil?

George looked around once; the man was out of site, talking to something, perhaps to a fireplace or some other mode of communication.

The bottle sat waiting on a shelf, George took his wand out and thought again about how the old man had a voice like his old charms teacher, and then he thought of Fred.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" George whispered, flicking his wand just the way he had half his life when trying to steal something. The bottle easily lifted from the shelf and floated neatly over to the counter where George caught it before it dropped then shuffled out of the room, trying to put his wand back and hide his bottle at the same time.

The parlor atop the shop didn't seem so dusty anymore; the red pills cradled in George's arm upheld the little spirit he had left. How many should he take? Surely taking too much of anything can be bad-Muggle or Magic. George sat on the end of the couch and stared down at the bottle, there was only one name on it, "Flu and Cough medicine for bad hearts" in dark black letters.

"Maybe I'll take sixteen, that's how much Floyd took of his…" George mused over it for a few more minutes.

How dangerous can it really be?

It can't really be that dangerous.

George dropped a handful into his hand, counting out sixteen; the pieces were coated with a red sticky paint that smelled like cherries. He popped them in his mouth, tasting the violent cherry and wanting to spit them out, then he remembered how dark it was outside, and how Fred was probably fucking Julie without him. Without him.

George ran to the kitchen sink, his mouth being to full of the sticky pieces to do a spell on the taste, he fumbled with the handle till the nozzle spurted clear water down his throat, with it the red pieces of medicine.

Do you think you can tell?

He had just figured it hadn't worked, that he had taken either too little or the medicine wasn't one that made you high. George ended up playing Wizard's chess alone, or at least without another wizard. The pieces rotated and moved from left to right, from up to down…

His queen's head turned around to face him, her puckered lips open and buxom chest high above her neck. Long stone hair falling over narrow shoulders, stone, she was only stone, George.

She turned back around, and then the opposite King shattered her.

"FUCK!" George jumped from his chair as the dust of the beautiful Queen was scattered across his face.

What kind of bloody game is this? How could we all allow such a beautiful chess piece to be destroyed? I should take this up with the ministry; they would be appalled by the violence and deaths these people endure for our sick entertainment! POWDER, SEVERED LIMBS.

And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?

George stopped thinking. The dust from the destroyed Queen and her spare parts regenerated in front of him, she looked back at him and smiled, the game had ended, while George had been temporarily disturbed by the game he was brought up with.

He held his face in his hands, his face had turned the color of his hair, and his green eyes had disappeared replaced with black holes. He felt the pounding of his heart, his body hovering above the ground with small sweet needles pressed to his arched back, his knees felt like they might explode with light.

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

George moaned happily as he got to his feet, he felt like he was gliding instead of walking, instead of seeing the dark dusty parlor he saw the vibrant colors of his posters, of the moving pictures of his brothers and sister, his mother and father smiling at him, without any scorn, without fear of the coming future. Full of light.

He could feel the light.

But it was too quiet, awfully quiet, George would have to do something about that, the use of his wand was out of the question, he could barely hold it straight because of his shaking fingers and arm, he would just have to learn how to use that Stereo Fred bought.

The knobs were hard to figure out for the most of the hour he worked on it, but eventually George got it to emit sound, sound which made him not think about it but move with it, everything was light, he could feel-

Cold comfort for change?

Them holding him, pushing him from one partner to another, a wild circle of dance, his fingers flying in front of him, the deep hungry feeling in his hips, the redness of his chapped lips, how badly he really wanted Fred home.

"George, what are you doin'?" Fred stared at his brother rubbing his body over a poster of The Wicked Sisters; to Fred it looked like his brother was getting off on the lovely cleavage the sisters were so generously showing.

George lifted his head and looked at his twin brother with big black eyes.

"You see the…um…the colors on this? They're beautiful aren't they?" George got up and stood in front of his brother. Fred was still wearing his good robe, which looked exactly like George's, a deep magenta, too comical. Could anything really be too comical? Was just blunt happiness possible in this world? Could it be that Fred just looked so funny…as if he were a jester?

"George what did you take?" Fred asked his voice sounded concerned, yet at the same time a brotherly mocking tone as well.

"Muggle." George sighed, touching Fred's robe. Yes it was very comical, so comical that George couldn't stop giggling.

"Muggle what?" Fred looked around the room, trying to shake his drug-induced twin off his robe when he spotted a bottle still very full of red medicine.

"I got it from some place…" George smiled and pulled Fred into a very tight hug. "Your robe feels soooooo nice haha!"

"George stop it, let me go." Fred tried to break free from his brother but at the same time didn't mind the hug. The last time George had shown any love was before last month at least, tonight was just bound to happen, Fred reckoned it wasn't…couldn't be all that bad. Had He cracked from the war? For surely there was a war happening, it was coming and everybody knew it was they're war.

And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

"Fred, let me take this off."

George didn't care, he was happier than he ever thought possible, but the idea that Fred was with Julie instead of him was still clear in his mind, he said he wanted to see if Fred had been eating well, which was the excuse he used to take his brother's robe off of him, he said he wanted to make sure he hadn't been sunburned from their last beach visit, there last beach visit being a three months ago. "George how many did you take?" Fred asked, letting George take his magenta robe off of him, allowing it to slide off his white shoulders and back. This was much like Fred remembered some nights alone at the Burrow, when both would say they were just making some new Weasley remedy for acne or some rash. When the two brothers would tumble into bed after drinking as much fire whiskey in the house as they could and inviting a favorite friend over, sometimes it was a beautiful girl with large breasts and an obedient mouth, other times it was a particularly dark haired and toned boy they would ask home. It varied every most of the time, but this was happening with his brother and only his brother.

"Sixteen, I've never felt more wonderful, more bloody brilliant in my entire life!" George laughed into his twin's shoulder, allowing his lips to rest on Fred's freckled skin.

"That sounds like," Fred felt George's wet mouth on his back, this wasn't so different from when they were with someone else, it was a regular request for their third companion to ask them to touch or kiss each other. "Quite a lot, brother."

How I wish, how I wish you were here.

Fred didn't care, and neither did George that they were alone, that there was no one with the same red hair and blue eyes touching them, they were actually content with just each other's warmth. The light was evident in both their eyes, George felt it took away the pain he felt, the fear he felt at the bottom of his heart that constantly stung him at every second of the day, that plagued him at night, and Fred was without the constant worry for his brother, felt his loving existence from behind him, forgot about Julie for a few hours.

True Hedonists they were.

"Just do it, Fred, you do it with everyone else now, it's not fair, your stronger in that, with the people."

"What?" Fred mumbled, into George's neck, he was extremely hot, literally burning up, he was wet too…well wet everywhere.

"Your fine with everyone, Freddie."

"Are you saying I'm a slut?"

Fred looked into George's black eyes. They were completely honest and heartbreakingly innocent.

"No…I'm saying everyone loves you." George pulled Fred closer to his chest, Fred didn't move, he allowed his twin to graze his teeth alongside his throat.

"George," Fred breathed, feeling how wet his brother was in that particular place, the shaking of George's mouth against his jawbone making the same effect.

We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,

"Freddie, take off your shirt…" George moaned, Julie's gonna' get hers.

"George your soaked." Fred turned around to look at the damp George, his red hair half dried against his sallow cheeks, a bright blush touching his nose.

"See, your fine with everybody." George stared at his brother, wanting to touch him again, or at least for Fred to touch him even though he was now slightly embarrassed.

"That's not what I meant you twat." Fred rolled his eyes and pulled George's white t-shirt from his resistant skin. "You need a hot shower-"

George's eyes perked up, "Not a cold one?"

Fred laughed lightly.

"No, brother, a hot one." *

George kicked off his pants and briefs as fast as his drugged body allowed, the mist coming from the silver shower sent his body into a spasm of want, but he noticed that though Fred said that George needed a bath he was taking off his clothes as well.

Fred crashed with George into the shower, George's hot body like a safety blanket wrapped around Fred's torso.

Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.

Fred allowed George's shaking legs around his waist, propping his twin's smaller back against the sleek pearl wall. Members' pressed together; Fred should've figured both would be hard, George's back arched up to touch Fred's chest, a soft moan escaping his reddened lips.

"Fred feels like-"

"Shut-up George." Fred grabbed his brother's chin and gave him a deep hard kiss then began biting his already sore mouth.

Fred thrust his hips into his brother's, receiving a high moan from the drugged redhead.

"You taste like cheery." Fred whispered, feeling the hot water run down in between the crease of they're individual bodies.

"Do it again." George moaned. He was breathing as heavy as someone who was about to be shagged Fred mused.

"Of course, brother." Fred complied by pushing George tight against him and the wall, running his cold fingers up his trembling brother's thighs, grasping a hold of George's member. "Ah…" George gasped, looking down with a very worried face.

George loved how it felt, having his brother's hand wrapped around his cock, however does Fred understand how good it really felt? He felt like an easy pawn, it was too easy to make George cum.

"Don't worry." Fred coaxed warmly into George's ear, "I love you, and you know that don't you?"

George, who couldn't ever not love his brother, could ever not love Fred, was overwhelmed by the absolute honesty coming from his brother's mouth.

"Yeah…" George panted, "Of course I love you."

"Then relax, I'm sorry that I haven't been home lately, I've been trying to take my mind off of things." Fred ran his palm up and down his brother's cock, lovingly kissing George's neck.

What have we found?

"I'm sorry you're always the one taking it." Fred suddenly joked. George erupted into a fit of giggles, remembering their past lovers, George hadn't "taken it" he had happily received it.

"Very funny, fuck me before I leave you for the poster."

"Ha Ha, yeah right." Fred slipped a single finger into George's tight entrance, hearing a deep groan from his brother. "You alright?"

"F-fine." George shook in Fred's arms, tightening his legs around his waist, being suspended felt glorious. Everything felt glorious, his brother's hand on his cock, wrapped around his back, the other gently prodding him. He wasn't longed for this wonderful world though; he could feel a climax coming.

"F-fred…"

"Fine Fred." Fred joked again, gripping both they're hard-ons' now with a fast paced massaging. George grabbed his brother's cock away from him and ran his shaking hand up and down it. "George…"

"Kiss me, then." George panted, his head thrown back as he gave a soft moan, he couldn't last much longer this way.

Fred followed orders and ran his tongue up his brother's wet chest, then bit his shoulder lightly to leave a small hicky; George moaned loudly, Fred loved to hear it. The moan sounded much like he expected his moan would.

Then to George's wet lips, Fred enjoyed kissing him, it felt like really kissing someone you cared about, it felt like he was really receiving and giving love, why couldn't this be brotherly love? As far as Fred knew this was brotherly love.

George moaned into the wet licking and sucking kiss, George felt his wrist hitting Fred's wrist like a machine. "I-I can't…"

Fred stopped his hand motion and grabbed his cock from his brother's grasp. "Relax Georgie." Fred stuck another finger in George, thrusting them in and out in a widening scissoring.

"A-ah…" George wrapped his arms around Fred, clutching his red hair in his pale fingers.

"Sh…it's okay."

The same old fears.

Fred thrust his member into his brother, feeling the tight walls close around him in the most erotic way, feeling his Georgie spasm in his arms, gently holding his brother's nice ass.

"Hold onto me." Fred whispered, closing his eyes against his brother's neck.

George held tight and allowed the pleasure of Fred inside of him take over.

In the haze of loving Fred could feel George climax, his wet white seed spilling onto Fred's belly, falling down his leg as Fred thrust harder into him.

"Pygmy Puffs!"*George moaned, climaxing hard, giving a yank at Fred's hair, which proved to be the ending touch to Fred.

"Oh George…oh dear Rowling*" Fred came into his brother, and the two both cradled in each other's arms held hard to one another till both were forced to get up and leave the slowly flooding bathroom.

They both lay in bed, in one bed, in Fred's bed. George didn't think it all that important to mention Fred's odd behavior, he was still to high to think hard, but one part of the night still stuck in his head. And Fred had a question to put to his brother as well.

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"
"

What's Rowling?"

"…I don't know, Georgie."

"…"

"What's a Pygmy Puff?"

"Something I…uh saw on your shoulder while we were in the shower."

"…How about that."

"G'night Freddie."

"Night, Love you."

"Love you too."

Wish you were here.

AN: Sadly the end didn't match up quite as well as I wanted.

*Mary Worner: Apparently this is another name for weed. I wanted something different. It probably means a certain grade but I couldn't find the exact definition.

*"A Hot one" God that was corny.

*HAHA! High George, that's how they came up with Pygmy Puff. Ha. I'm a genius.

*Thank you "A Very Potter Musical" bow