Shoddy Replacement

Ron and his two best friends hurried to help with the fight dodging the bright shots of light that shattered about them in every direction, the death eater who had engaged Percy stumbling backwards as fast as he could trying to dodge the curses that were aimed towards his head. Rons heart thudded painfully in his chest and he felt sick. He watched as the man’s cowl slipped down revealing the man's face.

"Hello, Minister!" Shouted Percy gleefully, sending a spell pinwheeling straight at Thicknesse’s chest, whose wand fell from his fingers as he clawed helplessly at his front, trying to scratch off his skin."Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" Laughed Fred as the death eater he himself had been fighting fell to a stunning spell. Thicknesse rolled on the floor, spines growing across his body and his skin turning an unpleasant shade of purple. Fred grinned at Percy.

"You actually are joking, Perce.... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

Ron didn’t hear any more, the space filled with light and magic, the heat burning the hairs on the back of his neck, the world exploded, stone shattering, slicing through the air. Words filtered to his ears as though his head was underwater.

“No, merlin fuck no..”

Fred's eyes stared lifelessly up at Ron, a last smile plastered across his face.

Ron woke up a cold film of sweat coating his face his body feeling suddenly to warm under the covers and his heart slamming into his chest.

He let out a choked dry noise, somewhere between a cough and a sob, sat up and placed his feet firmly on the floor, his hand reaching out to pick up the small alarm clock and bring it up to his nose so he could read the tiny hands on it’s face.

5am

Fuck.

Yet another night of interrupted sleep. Groaning Ron turned his head round to look at the still sleeping form next to him, the other redheads mouth hanging open and slack, his arm tucked under his head and a slimy mess of drool seeping into the pillow. He looked almost peaceful like this, so different to the angry tormented man he was in waking hours.

He wriggled his toes in the carpet, delighting at the feeling of the soft plush fibres against his feet. With a groan and a creak of oversized limbs he heaved himself up and across the small flats hall into the adjacent bathroom. A pale faced man stared back at him from the mirror, blue eyes dead and lifeless as the eyes that troubled him so much in his dreams, heavy bags adorned them and wrinkles aging him prematurely. His flaming hair was receding somewhat at the temples and though he knew she would never mention it, he knew it upset Hermione to see such an obvious sign of life taking it’s toll on her husband.

Shes going to leave me soon if this keeps up. Bloody hell I don’t blame her neither, I’m looking way past my prime and I’m only 30, I’m a wizard I should not look this bad already. Not to mention I can’t lift Rose up on my shoulders any more. Not that she ever sees me, none of them do anymore, he’s monopolising my time again and I’m letting him. Fuck knows why, mum’s long since given up tryin’ ta cheer him up. He was glad nobody else knew the lengths he went to to cheer his brother up.

He ran his fingers through his thinning hair before turning round and vaguely aiming his cock at the toilet bowl draining away the first piss of the day, not caring if he missed or not knowing it would go unnoticed in the shitty flat.

Ha. Hermionie’d do her nut if I didn’t lift the seat, is it wrong that I like that about her? It just makes her so female. God I love women. I love her and how neat and clean she is, the way she smells...

His growing semi sent his stream of piss over the back rim of the toilet and he cursed under his breath.

Ah, fuck it, who gives a shit.

He finished with a practiced shake and ran his hands under icy water in a noncommittal gesture of good faith to the hygiene fairy, the freezing water putting an end to his half hearted morning erection as he lazily walked out, back into the hall and through to the kitchen/living space flicking off the light as he went. He grabbed the kettle and filled it with water from the tap settling it on the small range and he set about rummaging in the piled up sink for the least dirty mug he could find, or, failing that, at least one without mould.

Humming to himself he busied himself with the chore, swaying his naked hips to the falsely bright tune in his head while he rinsed the mug under the cool water, watching it splash into the cup and swirling it about before he grabbed the tin of tea bags down from the top shelf, hardly noticing the stalking presence of the other resident of the flat as he sidled over to Ron and stood behind him, watching.

It was only when cold hands slid around his waist that he let out a girly scream and spun round, the sugar bowl falling from his hands and smashing against the grubby tiles.

“Oh well now look what you’ve done you tit!” George Weasley growled.

Ron groaned inwardly, and hid his eyes, upset that the days abuse would start so soon. He took a deep breath and tried to remain positive.

“It can be fixed easy-” He raised his wand but winced as his hand was slapped away.

“Just leave it, not like the rest of the place isn’t a state, mum’ll clear it up when she comes round later.” The other mans voice was hollow and Ron shuddered as he realised today would be one of his brothers angry standoffish days where he would curse and throw things and growl at every offence. He would be bright and gay behind the ‘till of the store in clashing magenta robes but away from that facade he would be harsh and cold.

Ron stared down at the shattered glass and sugar and tried to ignore the burn of encroaching tears that chafed the back of his throat. They would earn him no sympathy.

George slumped down into a chair at the kitchen table and dragged a packet of muggle fags out of his threadbare dressing gown and used his own wand to light it, huffing the first curl of smoke out his nose watching the blue grey curls swirl around adding to the already oppressive atmosphere.

“When’s she coming round then?” Ron said turning back to the countertop and finishing making his cup of tea without sugar, the sound of the teaspoon against the china sharp and bright, a sound that felt distinctly wrong in the flat above the Weasley brothers shop.

Nothing sweet in this relationship.

He had to raise his hand to his mouth to stop the bitter laugh from escaping his lips at the dark humour.

“About lunch time, she’s always checking in on me, don’t know bloody why though interfering old bat.”

Ron choked on his tea, angry at hearing the slur against his mother. George noticed and graced the room with a dry laugh.

“Oh yes, forgot you lot think the sun shine out her bloody arse don’tcha? Fat old tart.”

Ron didn’t reply as he turned and walked back to the bedroom to gather his clothes up, cast off across the floor after the events of last night, glad his brother wasn’t there to see the burning shame that flickered across his face at the thought of what he’d done. Reaching for his boxers and pulling them on he allowed his mind to drift back to the night before.

Hot heavy breaths and hands touching, groping any part they could reach, fingers fumbling desperately, pulling and tearing at clothes ripping away the barriers between their skin, anger and other negative emotions forgotten in the moment of passion, though he knew tears would follow after Ron allowed himself to glean what pleasure he could from their sick couplings. They rolled naked, Georges tongue thrusting into Ron's mouth, licking and tasting the taste of firewhiskey and carrying it away into his own. He watched with sick fascination as George lifted his fingers to his mouth coating them in spit before letting them slide down Rons arse crack. He winced and lets a hiss of air through his teeth as he was roughly impaled on two fingers which proceeded to slide in and out of his hot passage, his breath catching desperately, his eyes closed at the painful friction.

“Ahhh, fuck, shite, merlin not-” His breath caught as Georges fingers scraped across the place inside him “-Fuuuuuck” He felt his hips buck painfully into the filthy sheets, then, all too quickly the fingers were gone. Before he could lament the absence however they were replaced by a thick hot member stretching and burning inside him. His hand reached down and he desperately palmed his own straining erection as he was fucked hard his arse in the air, his back straining at the uncomfortable position, his knees locking as he cursed their differences in height.

“Fuck, RON, FUCK, YOUR ARSE-” Georges pace became more erratic as he thrust harder into Ron his fingers clenching around hips hips and squeezing painfully. Ron’s hand sped up and with a cry he spilled out across the stains bed linen.

“FUCK YOU LIKE IT DON’T YOU, WHORE, FUCK SHIT, FREEDD!”

Ron heard his brother reach his own completion above him, calling his lost twins name into the night as he pumped sticky liquid into Ron’s back passage and they slumped down into the bed.

Ron rolled over, away from him, not wanting to see the tear stained face as he reached for his wand and spelled away the seed, the sordid evidence, knowing that it wouldn’t stop him feeling dirty. He heard the pained sob next to him, anguish that should have tugged at his heartstrings but after the years of abuse just made his blood run cold. he rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom retching into the toilet while his brothers howls filled the flat with pain.

Pulling on his boots he stood up bringing his mug to his lips, the tea lukewarm and unpleasant washing round his mouth. He heard George come into the room and begin dressing for work himself but he ignored him as he pulled on his own work robes and sent a refreshing charm over the sour smelling fabric and clunked down the stairs to open up shop.

“Ron?” The voice called out down the stairs, his brother stood at the top staring down. Ron looked up and felt tears once again threaten to overflow.

“It-” George stopped as though wrestling with his feelings.

“It’s a Wednesday, it’s always quiet in the mornings and Tash will be here to help out in the afternoon. Go home to your family, okay?”

Ron nodded without saying anything and left through the back of the shop, not seeing the fresh tears that slid silently down his elder brothers face, he took a fresh breath of air, enjoying the crispness of january and walked down to the pub instead of home.

>END