Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

"Fred?" Fred tensed as he heard a knock on the door, his brother's slightly irritated voice on the other side. "Fred, what the bloody hell are you doing in there? I need to go to the bathroom!" Fred took one last look at his reflection before dropping his arm to his side, tucking his wand haphazardly in his back pocket before opening the door.

George frowned at him, his hand still raised up against where the door had been, ready to knock. "What was taking you so long?" Fred stared at him, biting his lip uncomfortably. Suddenly, George seemed to realize what was going through his twin's head. "Fred, what were you doing?" Instinctively, Fred reached around and tried to tug the bottom of his shirt over his wand, but George caught his wrist, glancing around him to see what he was trying to hide. "What were you doing?"

Fred had never seen him look so serious. It was unsettling. "You know, you could give mum a run for her money with that look." Fred said lightly, grinning in an effort to improve the mood. George, for once, was not amused. Fred shifted uneasily under his brother's gaze. "I don't know." He said finally.

"You were gonna cut your ear off, weren't you, you mindless git?" George still had a firm grip around Fred's wrist, and Fred winced when he tightened it unconsciously. "What were you thinking?" Fred shrugged, struck dumb by his brother's uncharacteristic anger. "Why?" Fred tried to pull his hand away, but George wouldn't let go, his eyes never leaving Fred's.

"I don't like people being able to tell us apart." Fred murmured finally. His voice was quiet, as if he didn't want George to hear him. From the horrified look on his face, however, Fred guessed that he had. George gaped at him; his hand suddenly dropped his brother's wrist and reached up to yank hard on Fred's left ear, the ear that no longer mirrored his own. Fred gasped from a mixture of shock and pain. "Goddamn–George!"

"Are you mental?" George asked fiercely, "You're still my twin brother, you idiot! That hasn't changed any." Fred twisted slightly in his brother's grip and finally managed to push him off, standing up straight and gently rubbing his ear.

"I know that," Fred grumbled, pushing himself up to sit on the sink. He glanced over his shoulder at his refection and scowled thoughtfully. "But doesn't it bother you to look in the mirror and not see both of us anymore?"

George smirked. "How can it? You never give me a moment's peace in the bathroom to look in the mirror." The corner of Fred's mouth twitched into a quickly fading smile. "Look, Fred…it's not so bad. So we can't tease mum anymore. It's not like we don't have a million other pranks ready for her." Fred didn't look fully convinced, but he smiled. George frowned, recognizing the front his brother was trying to put on.

"Would it make you feel better if I looked into mirrors like this from now on?" George asked, standing at the far edge of the sink so that the frame of the mirror cut his reflection at his jaw. Before Fred could answer, George brightened suddenly and looked at him. "Oh! Look at it this way, Freddie. Now you really ­are the better looking twin!"

The painted smile on Fred's face finally broke into a natural laugh. "What would I ever do without you, George?" He asked cheerfully, leaning back against the mirror. George tugged his sleeve gently so that he fell forward and rested his head on George's shoulder.

"What are you talking about?" George asked, his voice pretending to be annoyed, "if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be contemplating life as an amputee in the first place!" The atmosphere around them suddenly seemed to change, and Fred's arms suddenly flung themselves around George's shoulders and pulled him as close as he could while still sitting awkwardly on the sink.

"I wouldn't be considering life at all without you, George." he whispered seriously. If George didn't know his brother any better, he would've guessed he was crying. "I thought I was going to lose you that night." When Fred dropped his feet back to the tile floor without breaking away, George felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Fred…"

"Never do that to me again. Please…don't leave me alone, Georgie."

George smiled, patting Fred's hair reassuringly. "If I do," he offered cautiously, "I hereby give you my permission to cut your left ear off in remembrance of me. But until then, Freddie, keep it attached." He felt Fred smile and nod against his shoulder.

By May that following year, George had broken every mirror in the house.