July 2002
Hermione jogged up the empty street to the joke shop. It was nine o'clock on a Saturday night and most of the shops had been closed for hours. Fred and George were out for the evening, at a Quidditch match, and Hermione figured she'd take advantage of the quiet store to go balance their books. She had been doing the job for three weeks now and, while she enjoyed it, the task took twice as long if the twins were there. Inevitably the three would end up talking, goofing off, and ordering in dinner. Admittedly, it wasn't the worst way to spend an evening.
She let herself into the shop, quickly locking it again behind her. Kicking her trainers off at the counter, she bent down to the second shelf to grab the ledger and receipts only to find it empty.
"Where in the world could it be?" Hermione muttered to herself. She sifted around the other shelves, coming up empty. She made her way back to the stock room, lighting the lamps and looking around for the familiar purple leather book. As she reached up to a top shelf, a loose jar of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder toppled off. The jar went crashing to the floor and she was plummeted into darkness, and a sudden coughing fit.
It took several minutes for the powder to dissipate and allow Hermione to see again. Deciding that the book was nowhere in the shop, she dug the keys from her pocket as she climber the stairs to the brothers' flat. She unlocked the door, stepped inside, and was immediately aware that she was not alone.
Pleasurable moans filled the room. A pair of long, brown legs were sticking up from the sofa. Bright red hair and a blindingly white bum were bobbing against the legs.
"Oh jeez! I-I-I'm sorry!" Hermione squeaked, turning quickly and bolting back down the steps before she could register which twin she had just interrupted.
She leaned against the counter, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Whether it had been Fred or George, it didn't seem like she had thrown a wrench into the works. No one came barreling after her, so she patiently waited for the couple to finish up. As she waited, she desperately attempted shut up the voice in her head that kept pleading for it to not be Fred.
Twenty minutes later, footsteps could finally be heard on the stairs. A very casual George Weasley sauntered through the curtain, wearing nothing but a pair of green pajama bottoms. Hermione's heart gave a little leap seeing his mischievous grin. It wasn't her twin! Wait, her twin? She shook her head vigorously. She didn't have a twin.
"Sorry about that Hermione," George said, leaning against the wall. "Wasn't expecting visitors tonight."
"I'm the one who should be sorry. Very sorry," she murmured. "I should have knocked before I came in. I just thought you were at the Quidditch match and came by to do the bookkeeping. The ledger isn't down here though, hence why I unknowingly barged in on your moment."
"It's alright. You didn't interrupt anything. The Quidditch match got boring, so Ang and I buggered off early to make our own fun." George jerked his head toward the stockroom. "Come on up. I think my git of a brother took the ledger up with him today and forgot to put it back."
"How did he feel about you ditching him to go have shag?" Hermione asked, following him up the steps.
"Eh, he's used to it. It's not like he's alone anyway." George opened the door and pointed to the kitchen table. "There it be."
Hermione walked to the table, trying to keep her face expressionless. "Who's he with?"
"An adorable witch named Cara, from Gringotts. Bill set him up."
"Adorable, huh?" Hermione whispered. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed. She hated when she let herself get into these cycles. It was during the summer, before her fourth year, that she started taking notice of Fred Weasley. At that time he was in his sixth year and, while he was always nice to Hermione, she knew he saw her as nothing more than Ron's best friend that came around for holidays. So, she kept a lid on her feelings and admired him from afar.
Since then, she'd had a few relationships. It wasn't a continuous eight year period where she had noticed no one but Fred. But somehow she always came back around to him. Usually her crush came roaring back for just a little bit, like when she spent an odd extended weekend at the Burrow. Then, it would quietly retreat back into the shadows of her subconscious. With Harry and Ron's absences though, the twins had stepped in and filled the void her best friends had left. Consequently, her infatuation with Fred had also stepped up a notch.
"You okay Min?" George asked, shooting her a puzzled look.
"Yeah, of course." Hermione pulled herself from her thoughts and opened up the ledger. "Do you happen to have a quill and ink handy? I'll get this sorted and be out of your hair for the evening."
George continued to study her as her grabbed a quill and inkwell from the desk. "There's no rush. It's a Saturday night, why would you want to work? Freddy should be home soon. I'll go get pizza and we'll make the most of the rest of the night."
"I really should be getting home after these books."
"For what? Ten galleons says my sister is already asleep and dead to the world. Stay and hang out with us!"
"She was already half asleep when I left. Poor thing can barely make it to ten o'clock anymore."
"Growing a whole other human really takes it out of you."
Hermione sighed defeatedly. "Alright, if you let me get my work done I'll stay for a bit tonight. Go get the pizza." George whooped and ran to the single bedroom he and Fred shared. "Remember, I don't like peppers on mine!"
"Yeah, yeah," he called back. A minute later he reappeared in jeans, tugging a wrinkled t-shirt over his head. "I'll make sure to get a ham and pineapple one for you and the other weirdo. Back in a flash." With a crack, he was gone.
Hermione pulled her hair back into a messy bun and got her glasses from her purse. Years of reading by wand light had finally taken its toll and she had to give in and get reading glasses. With the flat silent, she was able to work quickly. She was tallying up the final sums when a familiar whistling echoed in the stairwell.
"Clothes on, I'm coming in!" Fred yelled. He opened the door and looked around confusedly when he saw the sitting room empty. He finally spied Hermione at the table and grinned. "Min! Wasn't expecting to see you tonight. In your case, clothing optional."
"I'm good as is, thanks." Hermione ducked her head in the book as a blush flooded her face.
"Where is my dear brother?" he asked, poking his head into the dark bedroom.
"Went out to grab pizza. He should be back soon."
"Is he getting-"
"Of course."
"Excellent! I still don't understand how he can't appreciate the brilliant combo of ham and pineapple? Sweet and salty, can't go wrong." Fred slipped into the chair across from her. "So what brings you to our humble abode this evening?"
"Just finishing up the books." Hermione scratched out the last few numbers and closed the ledger. "I have a bone to pick with you," she said, giving him her best menacing look.
"What'd I do this time? Did you come across the Canary Cream we slipped into your cream puffs?"
"Oh for Merlin's sake Fred," she groaned. "You better hope your pregnant sister doesn't get to it first or you won't be alive to see your new niece or nephew. No, I'm talking about you leaving the ledger up here today. I came by, planning to have a nice quiet evening curled up on the comfy stockroom couch, with a nicked Butterbeer, and balance these books. But instead I had to come up here and catch your brother mid shag!"
"Ooooh, damn. For that, I am truly sorry. No one should be subjected to that," Fred said with a grimace.
"It's gonna be quite some time before I can get the image of his pasty arse out of my head." Hermione shook her head, trying to shake the memory away.
"It won't erase the need for extensive therapy, but dinner Tuesday is on me." Fred leaned back in his seat and, in his attempt to cross his legs, kicked the table and sent the open inkwell flying. His face froze in horror as black ink dripped down Hermione's baby blue t-shirt.
"Seriously? What horrible atrocity have I committed against you today?" Hermione huffed. She tried to scourgify the ink away, but was still left with a damp, black stain in the middle of her shirt.
"I'm so so so sorry Hermione!" Fred ran to the closet and returned with a clear glass jar filled with blue powder, and a bucket. He poured some powder into the bucket, filled it with water, and instantly heated it up. "Take your shirt off and let it soak in this. I'll lend you one of my shirts."
"This night is not going any way that I had planned," Hermione muttered. Fred turned to go as she grasped the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Tossing the shirt into the bucket, she saw Fred was still just standing there, watching her. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms across her chest. "This isn't a peep show!"
"Sorry!" He stumbled a bit before scurrying to the bedroom.
"Looks like it's my turn to interrupt," a voice called from behind her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred popped his head out of the bedroom to see his brother grinning at a beet red Hermione. Letting his gaze linger longer than he should've, he saw that her blush didn't end at her cheeks, but reached all the way down her chest. She hugged herself tighter as George playfully tugged at her hair.
"Sometime this millennium Fred!" Hermione yelled.
Jumping back, Fred pulled his old Beater jersey from a drawer. Returning to the kitchen, he handed the shirt to Hermione and relieved George of the pizza boxes.
"What happened to Cara?" George asked, pulling a slice of pepper and mushroom pizza from the box. Hermione tried to hand him a plate, but George waved it away. Fred smirked as she muttered 'uncivilized heathens' under her breath.
"I dropped her off and said good riddance," Fred replied, accepting Hermione's plate offering.
"Sounds a bit rude," Hermione said, pulling a slice of their Hawaiian pizza onto her plate.
"I didn't say that exactly," Fred said, flopping into an armchair and taking a bite. "I told her that while the evening had been very nice, I didn't foresee a second date in our future."
"Why? She was cute!" George exclaimed. He and Hermione sat down on opposite sides of the couch. Fred summoned bottles of beer from the icebox and they flew over to the coffee table.
"Cute, but so dull. We had absolutely nothing in common," Fred explained. "She liked books-"
"And what's wrong with liking books?" Hermione interrupted. She gave him a peculiar look of disappointment.
"No, she really liked books. Wouldn't stop talking about them, throughout the whole match. I like a good read as much as the next person, but I swear she sat there and detailed every single novel she had ever read. Plus, she didn't get any of my jokes and didn't seem to find anything funny, unless it reminded her of a scene from a book. Opposites attract only so much. I can't be with a girl that I can't make laugh." Fred stuffed the last chunk of pizza into his mouth, catching Hermione's stare from the corner of his eye.
"You don't need to have anything in common to-"
Hermione threw a pillow at George's head before he could finish his cheeky statement.
"And she definitely needs to be able to make me laugh," Fred concluded with a chuckle. "So, Hermione, do you still keep in touch with old Viktor Krum?"
"I can't imagine why you would ask me that," she answered, shooting him a knowing look.
"It's just been a while since we've heard from our favorite Seeker."
"Don't let Harry hear you say something like that," Hermione warned. "Your sudden interest in Viktor wouldn't happen to be correlated to Bulgaria playing in the World Cup next month, would it?"
"How dare you think such a thing?" George exclaimed, clasping his hand over his chest.
"We would never!" Fred cried.
"But now that you brought it up..." George started.
"We were just curious..." Fred said suggestively.
Hermione smiled, yet said nothing and went to the kitchen for more pizza.
"Miiiin?" Fred jumped up and followed her. "What aren't you telling us?"
"What makes you think I'm hiding something?"
"Because you've been hanging around us too much and appear to have adopted our 'up to something' look," Fred accused.
Hermione sighed, put her plate down, and grabbed her purse. She pulled out a maroon envelope, quickly shoving it behind her back when Fred made a grab for it. He reached out and tickled her ribs.
"Fred Weasley! Stop it!" she squealed, stepping back and attempting to bat him away. He tickled her again until she was backed up against the counter.
"Let me see it," Fred said, hands hovering at her sides.
"And if I don't?" She looked up at him, blowing wisps of hair from her face.
Fred froze for a second as her hazel eyes stared at him. He had a sudden urge to-
"That's when I swoop in." George suddenly appeared and plucked the envelope from her hands.
Hermione didn't fight back. She continued staring at Fred, biting her bottom lip. Deciding it best not to let on what he had been about to do with that bottom lip, Fred took a step back and gave her space to move past him.
"He already gave you four tickets?!" George shouted. Fred turned around to see his brother ogling a set of tickets.
"Yes," Hermione said breathlessly. She finally pushed herself away from the counter and stalked over to George. "I had this whole surprise planned for you guys and you just had to go and be nosey." She snatched back the envelope and tickets. "Viktor sent them to me last week and told me that he hoped I'd be able to make it to Egypt for the game."
"You're of course going to take your favorite Beaters to the game, right?" Fred asked, peering over Hermione's shoulder at the coveted pieces of parchment. World Cup tickets had sold out within one day. He and George never stood a chance at getting a pair.
"Against my better judgement," she said, looking over her shoulder. She attempted to look exasperated, but he caught the smile twitching at her lips.
The twins gave a whoop and sandwiched Hermione in a hug.
"We'll take the mother-to-be along for one last big trip also," Hermione said, breaking away to put the tickets back in her purse. "I've already booked our hotel rooms. I went ahead and reserved them for the whole weekend, just in case the match goes long."
"We love you Auntie Min!" the brothers chorused.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hermione sighed, digging into her second slice. She looked up at Fred and grinned from behind the cheese.
It wasn't long before the pizza and beer ran out and their conversation had cycled from Quidditch, to the joke shop, to Hermione's hope for an upcoming promotion within the Ministry, to the new member of the family that would be arriving in the new year.
"Think Potter'll be back by then?" George pondered. He had stretched out on the couch, with his feet lying in Hermione's lap.
"Of course, he has to be," Fred insisted. He tried to avoid watching as Hermione aimlessly stroked his twin's foot.
Hermione's lip faded into a thin, worried line. "I don't know. It's been three months now. They've never been gone this long before. I honestly don't know how Ginny's keeping it together as well as she is."
"Are you worried about them?" Fred asked.
"I try not to be," Hermione answered. He could see her eyes glisten over. "I know if anything went wrong, we'd hear about it right away. But it still doesn't mean I don't have a panic attack every time an unknown owl comes to the flat, or a sudden, unexpected memo shows up on my desk. Harry and Ron are both exceptionally capable Aurors and I keep reminding myself that if anyone can get this job done, it's them. I just have a feeling that this is going to drag on longer than anyone expected." Hermione wiped her eyes and gave a quick sniffle. "On that note, I think it's about time I head home."
"Already?" George whined.
"Already?" Hermione laughed. She patted his feet and he swung them onto the floor. "It's past midnight. I need to get to bed and hope you haven't saddled me with more nightmares!"
"If it helps, just tell yourself it's Fred. We look the same everywhere," George said with a wink.
"Oh, Merlin," Hermione moaned, covering her face.
Fred jumped up and swayed drunkenly for a second before regaining his composure. "You okay to apparate? Hate to see you splinch yourself. Can always kip on the couch if you need," he offered.
Hermione shook her head, smiling as her red face slowly returned to its normal color. "I had one drink the entire evening. You two are the ones that made your way through the lager."
"That would explain why there's two of you."
"Thanks for the offer though." She reached out and gave him a hug. Fred let his hands linger around her waist a second or two longer than he would usually. "I'll see you guys for dinner on Tuesday." She gingerly moved his hands from her waist, back to his side. A quick hug for George and she was gone with a loud crack.
Fred started gathering up the plates and bottles, carting them into the kitchen.
"Well, that was interesting," George said, sauntering into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and arched his eyebrows at Fred.
"What was interesting?" He placed the plates in the sink and started breaking down the pizza boxes.
"Those little looks you and Hermione were sharing all night."
Fred felt the back of his neck grow hot, but shook his head. "Few too many beers there, Georgie."
"No, they were definitely happening before the beers. I saw how you looked at her when she was standing there topless."
"She wasn't topless," Fred muttered. He remembered Hermione's shirt, still soaking in the laundry soap, and went to take it out.
"Okay, nearly topless. I don't blame you though, of course. She's quite easy on the eyes." George started chucking bottles into the bin, one by one.
"Remember who you're talking about. This is Hermione Granger, the girl our little brother used to have a crush on."
"Yes, but now she's Hermione Granger, the woman that kept catching your eye all evening."
Fred ignored his brother's wheedling and took the shirt into the bathroom to rinse it out. He knew if he stayed out there any longer his face would give away the fact that he had felt a few unexpected sparks that evening. He kept trying to put it down as his sexual frustration making nothing into something, since his date hadn't gone as planned. But truth was, the dismal date with Cara hadn't frustrated him at all. What had been frustrating was being inches away from Hermione's full lips and having not made a move. He shook the thought from his mind, hung the shirt to dry, and went back to the kitchen.
"It wasn't just you though," George continued. "She was letting off her own little signals all night."
"Like what?"
"Like after she walked in on Ang and me, she seemed very relieved when she saw it was me, and not you, coming into the shop. Almost like she couldn't stand the thought of seeing you with another girl."
Fred snorted. "You got all that from a look?"
"I'm very perceptive," George said, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I say go for it. You need a roll in the hay."
"Yes, a one night stand with Hermione Granger is the perfect plan." Fred tossed a box at George, who lazily batted it away. "I've become quite attached to my bollocks over the years, thank you very much."
"It doesn't have to be a one night stand. You never know what could happen."
"And that is exactly why Hermione is off limits," Fred insisted. With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair. "Even IF I were to take that chance, there's every chance things wouldn't work out. Been there, done that. I'm not ruining another friendship."
"She's not Katie," George started.
"No, she's very different. We've gotten close to her in these last few months, and I don't want to jeopardize that for a stupid shag."
"Suit yourself. I don't want to hear you complaining then, about going months without a proper lay."
"It has been months..." Fred groaned.
"Ah! Don't want to hear it," George called, walking to the bedroom.
Fred plopped down in a kitchen chair and let his head hit the table with a thud. Of all the people to go and catch feelings for...