Fred glanced up, his arm automatically covering his parchment further as the too-familiar tones of Professor Lockhart's sickly-sweet voice penetrated his concentration. "Er, what?"

"Not having experienced it myself, of course, I can only offer keen intellectual insights, as opposed to emotional ones, other than those brought on by my own deep empathy for all living things."

Fred's eyebrow shot high and he snapped his mouth shut. Shaking his head, he opened it again and searched for an appropriate response before simply uttering another "Er, what?"

"I see it in your eyes." Lockhart reached out and took one of Fred's hands in his own and patted it, his own vivid blue eyes laced with something resembling sincerity. "The pain you must endure. It strikes me like the emotional equivalent of the time I had to battle the Rochester…"

"Professor, I don't mean to be rude," Fred assured him as he disengaged his hand and scooted his chair further away from the table for good measure, "but I can honestly say I've no idea what you're on about."

"It's all right, Fred. I see the pain."

The sheer shock of someone knowing, or at least guessing his name on the first try, left Fred speechless for a moment, long enough for Lockhart to get to his feet and move to sit next to Fred on the same side of the table, effectively trapping him against the wall.

"It's the deepest cut."

"Er, the slitting of my wrists if you don't go away?"

Lockhart's chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh, drawing irritation from Madam Pince and the attention of the rest of the library's inhabitants. "You Weasleys are so amusing!" He nodded and smiled happily. "I shall have to include mention of one or perhaps all of you in my next book. To think that suicide would be an answer to anything other than living without me in your life." He shook his head. "Capital joke, my boy."

"Not your boy, mat…er, Professor. Look, I have potions homework that I need to…"

"Unrequited love." Lockhart grabbed Fred's hand and pulled it to his chest, pressing it over his heart. "It burns."

"Madam Pomfrey…"

Lockhart's hand moved Fred's to his own chest, covering it nearly completely with his own, more delicate fingers. "I feel it in you."

His face now redder than his hair, Fred jerked his hand away, nearly knocking over the bottle of ink as he swung it out of reach of Lockhart's grasp. "You're off your nut."

"There is no shame, my boy."

"I'm not…" Fred cleared his throat and lowered his voice, sending a quick, disparaging glare toward Angelina as she leaned in toward the rest of the Gryffindor girls she was sitting with. "I'm not your boy and I'm bloody hell not in love with you."

"Oh!" Lockhart's laughter boomed through the room, drawing every eye that hadn't been focused on them to their corner. "Oh, no, Fred. I appreciate the offer, but I am far too good for you. I speak of the other desire in your heart."

"Other?" Fred got to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair and his robes in his haste. "There's no bloody other desire in my heart, as there's no first desire in my heart and if you think I've ever fancied you, you've gone completely 'round the bed. Bend." Fred grabbed his scroll and headed for the library doors, his head down, his face flaming, whispering curses under his breath.

"So." George sat on the edge of Fred's bed and nodded, not looking at his twin. "My boy."

"Sod the fuck off."

"I can only pretend that I never suspected it of you, Fredders." Fred didn't seem to move, though the hard elbow shoved into George's side with all of his considerable might and muscle proved differently. George groaned as he hit the floor, wincing as he touched his side. "Touchy subject?"

"First of all," Fred sneered at his twin, his eyes dark and dangerous, "if I were to fancy anyone of the same bleeding sex, it sure as hell wouldn't be some overblown, pompous, self-indulgent prick like Lockhart. And second of all, I'm not about to fucking fancy anyone of the same bleedin' sex!"

"I'm sure Angelina will be pleased to hear it. If you can get her to stop spreading the rumor of you and Lockhart long enough to do so."

"Angelina is welcome to kiss my white Weasley arse."

"Probably not the best thing to say while denying rumors that you're a shirt-lifter, mate."

"Oh, sod off, George." Fred returned his glare to his feet, his second toe threatening to poke through the thinning material. "And take Lee and the other snickering shit with you when you go."

"We're here for moral support," Lee assured him from the safety of his own bed across the room.

"Oh, yes. It's incredibly bloody supportive to hear you sniggering every time one of you mentions Lockhart's name."

"Oi, mate!" Lee looked offended. "I'll have you know that sometimes we snigger whenever we mention Oliver's name."

"I'm not bloody screwing Oliver either! Merlin's goat, you lot are shit for friends." Fred slammed back against his pillows, using his wand to shut his curtains and block out the rest of the room. He listened to Lee's laughter until it faded; not smiling until he heard him approach George and ask him if he really thought Fred was all right. He couldn't hear his brother's response, though he imagined he'd know soon enough as the door swung closed behind Lee.

"I'd open the curtains, unless you want them deciding your unrequited love is for me."

Fred opened the dark velvet and sat up, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully as George sat opposite him. "I don't have any unrequited…"

"Bullshit."

"I thought I just explained this, George…"

"I'm not saying it's for Lockhart," George reminded him sharply, stopping Fred mid-sentence. "But you're the nutter if you think I don't know."

"You don't know. Because there's nothing to know. And even if you did know, which you don't…"

"Just so long as Ron never knows, you'll be fine."

"What?"

"How long've I known you, Fred?"

"All your life."

"All yours."

Fred grinned and shrugged. "Doesn't mean you know this, mate."

"But I do know." George tapped Fred on the knee. "And, as far as it goes, you've got about as much chance with her as you do with Lockhart." He paused and sighed, looking up to meet his brother's eyes. "There are worse things than unrequited."

"Name one."

George gave him a long look then got off the bed. "C'mon, my boy. Let's go downstairs so you can show Angelina just how much you don't fancy Lockhart."

Fred sighed and got to his feet, following his brother toward the door. "I could have Wood if I wanted him."

"Only if you dragged me along."

"Volunteering?"

George turned slightly to look at Fred over his shoulder, eyebrows up as his twin grinned mischievously. "Are you?"