At the end of things
At
the end of the war, everything had been shattered. Keeping it under wraps from
the Muggles had been one of the hardest things, there'd been so few actual magic users left.
Everyone had just...died. So many dead, coming up with reasons to explain them
had been so hard. So very hard, emotionally, mentally.
They'd won. What was meant to be the side of light had won, but even their
hands were drenched in blood by this point. After a point, it had been adapt,
lose the morals, or die. Hard to do. Some people just
died anyway.
After Ginny had seen Ron killed by a Death Eater when he dove in front of
Harry, to save the Boy-Who-Lived's life, she hadn't
cared much for niceties anymore. There hadn't been time. They had to win, or
they were going to die. It was pretty simple. And so they'd won. There were
noises about Orders of Merlin, from the remains of the wizarding
government, both for the living and the dead. Ginny didn't care anymore. She
was pretty sure Fred and George didn't either. Heroes.
Supposedly, they were meant to be heroes. Shouldn't they have been able to save
the ones they loved, if they were heroes?
They hadn't been there. At home. They'd been out
fighting with the Order, trying to stop Voldemort
from ruining the world. And. They'd. There had been blood drenching the Burrow
from attic to cellar, and the ghoul in the attic had been...removed. Could
something like that really be killed? Or did it just...go away? Ginny wasn't
sure. She hadn't asked. Bill and Fleur had been visiting. There had been talk
of possible grandchildren for their parents. It had been happy, when she and
the twins had left with a laugh and a smile. Going out to
save the world.
Charlie had been killed a few weeks later. They'd hunted him down and killed
him, when he tried to protect the dragon sanctuary. Silly,
silly Charlie. Dragons...they didn't really need protecting,
they were pretty capable of it themselves. But it had been
his job, and they'd slaughtered him for it, because...because. Why. She
didn't know. They could have knocked him out or something. But they'd killed
him instead. It had become impossible to smile. There was nothing left to be
happy about.
The only thing she had to be glad for, at the end of all of it, was that
neither of the twins had died. Because if one...if one had, she was sure the
other would have faded away and that would have left her all alone. She
couldn't bear to look at Harry anymore, not after Ron had died. Hermoine had tried to talk her into seeing him again before
the dead look in Ginny's eyes had stopped her coming around. The dead look that
was echoed in Fred and George's eyes. Too many dead
whispering through their heads. The Weasleys...well,
this branch of them anyway...had been savagely pruned. There were scars on the
few that were left. Everywhere all over scars like patchwork tapestries. She
had heard that Draco Malfoy
had been responsible for inspiring the Burrow massacre. He'd been killed by
someone, not her, during the last climatic battle where Voldemort
had died. Everything after that had been picking up the pieces and squashing
out the resistance.
Never again.
Even if that meant killing every last Death Eater or
suspected Death Eater. There were those that would, and it had been a
pogrom for a while. But now...it seemed to have calmed down and gotten back to
normal. Wizarding communities from other countries
had stepped in - now, now they stepped in! - to help
rebuild
They had just left. Oh, they knew that people would be worried that a Death
Eater that had been missed had gotten them or something, but by that
point...the three of them didn't care anymore. There was nothing left. They
moved across the sea, away from places where they could be recognized to a
small sleepy village in
Fred and George actually managed to tan. She'd always known they were
close...but...walking in on them being close was another thing entirely.
Slide of flesh, and flame coloured hair mixed against flame coloured hair and
moans and...oh. It had seemed so right, even though
she'd known it was wrong. But since everything was wrong and broken anyway, she
couldn't see that it mattered. Because. At least they had someone to hold. Someone to touch. Her skin was aching with loneliness and
she didn't know how to bring it up.
Because.
How could she get in the way of what they had? She might break it. Everything
was broken, and she was scarred and they had each other. Why would they need
her? But she couldn't stand it, she needed to be touched and loved, and she
didn't care how she got it. What she wanted was for someone to understand. And
they did. Couldn't stand being touched by someone who didn't
understand, because that would be awful. They needed to understand the
scars on her body and soul, otherwise it would hurt even more to be touched
then it was to be lonely. Acid on open wounds. And...maybe they would at least let her...see.
There had been a stilting conversation. Half of the pauses had been when the
twins were looking at each other, communicating with out words and she coveted
that so much. No one was ever going to know her so well they could read her by
the soul in her eyes. Never ever. But they'd always
been able to do it, even if the trickster had been knocked out of them by the
war. It came and went in flashes now, but they were all so wounded they
couldn't really laugh. And...they'd said yes. Yes. She
could come in out of the cold with them and curl up.
So here she was. Taking her shirt off over her head as Fred's hands gently
undid the clasp of her bra, George down on his knees as he slid her skirt down
over the curves of her hips. It was all so raw. Their not so visible wounds
were bleeding, she could almost see them. Heart's blood,
trailing down over their chests. Hesitant kisses across her shoulders,
Fred holding her steady as she lifted her legs obediently to untangle them from
the skirt. Winding her fingers through George's hair, slightly waved and curly,
not like her own. Dead straight.
Warm breath against her thighs, more kisses and she felt like she was about to
cry, because they were all so broken that they couldn't work with normal
people. And this was all they had, and would ever have.
"Shh, Ginny..."
Wasn't sure which one said it.
"Love you both...so much..." Ginny murmured, leaning back into Fred
as his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking over her nipples slowly. Making them hard. Hissed slightly as her knickers went down
and George pressed his mouth to her feminity, just
below the ginger curls. "Oh, gods." Warm wet tongue lapping, making her shudder and her legs shake so
that Fred had to hold her up or she'd fall down.
"Love you, little sister." Fred. "Always have." George. Always in agreement and so close to being the same person that she
didn't think of them as two people. Fred'n'George, George'n'Fred.
Indivisible. And they were letting her in. "Ours,
now. Bed?" "Yes." Had to touch them,
wanted to taste them and didn't know how to ask for what she wanted,
tongue-tied now they were actually all together and the sheets were still
rumpled because the twins never made their bed. Ever.
George stretched over her to kiss Fred, sharing the taste of her on his lips
with his twin. She had to touch them, study them, nestled against Fred and
feeling his erection against her back as she trailed her fingers down George's
stomach. They all had white tracery of scars, up and across their bodies. Memories of battles and wounds that had been healed, but never
forgotten. Forever remembered.
"Sweet."
And it was good, and it was perfect, and Ginny couldn't help crying even as
they kissed her tears away. Because she was warm. And
she felt alive. And they'd all been dead for so long, she hadn't known this was
what was missing. Closeness. Something was decided
between the twins that wound up with George between her legs, Fred behind him
and slowly fingerfucking him out of her sight, George
just laying against her. Heavy and
hard against her stomach, making her feel so vulnerable, and excited at the
same time. Kissing her over and over again as Fred bit his shoulder. Knowing
when Fred thrust in because George's weight on top of her got that much heavier
and his face twisted in a moan of pleasure.
"Going to be...so careful..." George breathed into her ear, and she
could feel the head of his cock slicking against her folds. So wet and open.
She put her hands on his shoulders, staring up at him and past him to what she
could see of Fred's face, both so still for moment. "It'll probably hurt
for a bit, but I swear...we'll make it so good for you." And then he was
sliding in, inching himself in and it made her feel like she was going to
split. His face was half tormented and half blissful as he sheathed himself
inside her, hesitating for a moment as he met the resistance of her hymen, then
thrust hard to break it.
Her nails scored down his shoulders, bringing blood to match what was painting
her thighs, head arching back against the pillow as she cried out.
"Please!" Needed him to move, now.
She felt safe, under them both like they were going to protect her against
everything, stand in between her and the world. And she'd do the same for them.
Felt it making them all three complete as Fred started to fuck George,
establishing a rhythm for them all, a dance with hips and tongue and mouth and
hands. Skin slicking against skin as sweat rolled over them. Musk.
Taste it on the back of her tongue, felt George's hips slamming and grinding
down against hers. Tongue across her breasts.
Could feel something curling and getting tighter in her
stomach, legs starting to shake again. Hot and warm, like something
alive. She could hear the sounds they were all making starting to reach a
desperate pitch, as she convulsed and came, wailing, hands clutching at them
both for something to centre her in the middle of orgasm. More blood wet her fingertips, she could feel it as George bit her,
Fred's hand leaving a bruise on her waist as he tightened his grip on her for a
moment. Warmth flooded through her and she could feel it when George climaxed,
more wet and warm inside her. So hot. Collapsing
together in a pile on the bed, Ginny cuddled with her brothers.
And wondered what tomorrow would be like.