August 2003
"I don't think it's going to matter how amazing your dinner is or how big a bouquet of flowers you get. The long and short of it is Hermione is going to kill you."
Fred shot an exasperated look at his twin.
"Give me all the death stares you want, you know it's true," George laughed. He turned to his wife for affirmation. "Back me up here, Ang."
"I'm staying out of this," Angelina answered, her eyes never leaving her copy of Witch Weekly.
"That means yes," George said, turning back to Fred. "I'm still shocked Minerva agreed to it."
"It took a lot of sweet talking. But Hagrid appears to be happy enough sharing his flock. I got two feet of parchment full of care instructions," Fred said, patting his trouser pocket. "Alright, if I'm going to beat her home I have to get going. Thanks for covering for me Ang!"
"Good luck," Angelina called back, giving Fred a wave as he hurried out the door.
Before apparating home, Fred stopped at the Diagon Alley florist and picked up the biggest bouquet of flowers he could carry. He hoped they would help him stay on his girlfriend's good side after telling her about what came along with the new product he was testing.
He apparated to the front door of the flat and his stomach did a flip-flop. Muffled sounds of chaos could already be heard, loudest among them was Hermione's cries of frustration.
"Bugger all," Fred groaned, smacking his head against the door.
Within ten seconds the door was whipped open and Fred was met by Hermione's manic face. Half her hair was still pulled back, but the other half was standing on end, framing her face almost like a lion's mane. He couldn't help but think the growl she let slip made her sound like a lion also. The Sorting Hat really is never wrong....
"Hello, darling," Hermione greeted through gritted teeth. "There wouldn't happen to be something you forgot to tell me, would there?"
"I'm sorry," Fred said meekly, holding out the flowers.
Hermione snatched the bouquet and moved aside so Fred could enter. He slipped his trainers off and Hermione swiftly scooped them up and placed them on the bookcase.
"If anything is left on the floor, the Crup will either chew it up or pee on it," she explained to Fred's bemused look.
"What's going on?" Fred asked, turning on the spot to survey the damage.
The sofa cushions were upended. Feathers were floating around, apparently ripped from a ravaged throw pillow. Towels were thrown over various puddles. As Fred knelt down to inspect teeth marks on the coffee table, something black swooped over his head. He looked up to see a raven perch on the back of the sofa. Immediately a rust-colored Crup bounded in and jumped onto the sofa. Feathers went flying once more and the raven screeched before taking flight towards the main bedroom.
"I was really hoping you'd be able to tell me that," Hermione said, nudging the Crup away with her leg. Her effort was futile though. The Crup weaved between her legs and took a bite out of one of the sunflowers in the bouquet. "No! No!" Hermione scolded, holding the flowers over her head. "Aside from this thing and the raven, there is a Demiguise hanging from the shower head. There's a Niffler tearing apart our bedroom. And somewhere amongst the ruin, there's the Bowtruckle that unlocked all their cages and set them free."
"There's also a snake climbing your leg," Fred pointed out, cringing slightly.
"And there's a snake on my leg." Hermione glanced down and screamed, sending the Crup running into the kitchen. "There's a snake on my leg! Get it off, get it off, get it off!"
She held her leg out and Fred hurried forward to untwist the reptile. He was relieved to see it was just a common ball python and nothing too exotic.
"What the hell was Hagrid thinking?" Fred sighed, letting the snake wrap around his arm.
"What the hell were you thinking, Fred Weasley?!" Hermione shrieked. "I got an owl this morning from Professor McGonagall, wondering if I knew my boyfriend was setting up his own menagerie. I got here just in time to see that blasted Bowtruckle release the raven. I didn't even know there was a bloody snake in the mix!"
"There wasn't supposed to be a snake in the mix." Fred took a step forward, but Hermione recoiled, and he silently cursed himself. The snake was still on his arm and Hermione has had an understandable fear of snakes since the war had ended. "I"m sorry, Min. I asked McGonagall if I could borrow a few of Hagrid's creatures for a day or two, to test one of the new inventions we've been working with. Nothing that will hurt them," Fred quickly assured as Hermione's face contorted in disgust.
"It's a serum that causes the imbiber to temporarily lose their voice," Fred continued. "I was only supposed to be getting the raven, Crup, and niffler. I guess Hagrid got a little carried away."
"A little is an understatement," Hermione muttered.
"Let me get the demiguise from the bathroom. Then you can lock yourself in there, have a nice long bath, and I will get this lot sorted out and the flat back in order."
"What about the snake?" she said, grimacing as the snake slithered up to Fred's neck.
"I'll find somewhere to rehome him for the weekend. Maybe he can stay at Ginny's place. I'm sure James would get a kick out of him."
Hermione nodded and Fred went to clear the creatures from the bathroom. The Demiguise was still hanging from the shower and he found the crup drinking from the toilet. After they were secured in their cages, Fred lured the raven back to its cage by dropping a worm on the cage floor. He had to wrestle with the Niffler to get it out of the closet and away from Hermione's grandma's old costume jewelry. By the time the Niffler was back in its pen and crunching on biscuits, Fred was exhausted and decided to just Accio the wandering Bowtruckle. The little twig-like creature zoomed into his hand and immediately started jabbing Fred's fingers, in a valiant bid for freedom.
The snake stayed relaxed around Fred's neck through the creature retrieval process and the ensuing cleanup effort. The only thing Fred couldn't fix was the chew marks on the coffee table, and necklace from the costume collection was missing a gemstone. He knew if he waited a couple hours, they would get it back, but he had a feeling Hermione wouldn't want it back after that.
"Everything is back to normal and everyone is back in their proper cages," Fred called through the closed bathroom door. "I'm taking the snake to Ginny's, but I won't be gone long."
As Fred had expected, Ginny didn't bat an eye when he walked out of the floo with a snake wrapped around his neck. After growing up with six older brothers, not much phased her and she was more than used to various creatures and critters coming and going.
His sister agreed to keep the snake for a few days and when he left James was poking a chubby little finger along various parts of its body.
Upon his return to the flat, he found Hermione in the kitchen, throwing vegetables into a pot of steaming broth. Her iPod was on, drowning out the noise of the animals. He walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and started swaying to the music.
Ah, now when she comes walkin' over
Now I've been waitin' to show her
Crimson and clover, over and over
"I like this song," Fred murmured. "What's it called?"
"Crimson and Clover," Hermione answered. She leaned back against him, stirring the stew, and letting her body sway with his. She closed her eyes and smiled. "This reminds me of my childhood."
"How so?"
"This was my parents' song, and whenever it came on my dad would drop whatever he was doing and dance with my mum. I used to think it was cheesy and embarrassing when my friends were visiting, but I've come to see how sweet it is and what a hopeless romantic my dad is, even though he'll deny if you tell him so."
"You're parents were hippies, weren't they?"
"They prefer to be called 'free spirits'."
Fred smiled into her neck and drew her closer. As the song played on, a question popped into his head and he couldn't believe he had never thought to ask it before.
"Do you have a favorite band?"
"Yes," Hermione immediately answered. "Well, not a band, but a singer. Roy Orbison."
"Really?" The name was familiar to Fred, as the man's songs had popped up on Hermione's playlist quite often. "I wouldn't have guessed that in a million years"
"My record collection didn't give that away?" Hermione chuckled.
"I know you have a lot of his albums--"
"All his albums," Hermione corrected.
"But you also have all the albums from The Beatles, and Queen, and those New Block Kids."
Hermione's face flushed. "New Kids on the Block, and you broke the rule about never talking about that period of my pre-teen years!"
"Apologies. Punish me accordingly later." He kissed her rosy cheek and went to the icebox for a Butterbeer. "What's so special about Roy?"
Hermione set the stew to simmering and summoned a loaf of bread. She frowned as she inspected the end that was missing a couple chunks.
"Bloody raven," she muttered, sawing off the ruined end and tossing it into the bin. "Roy Orbison is the first artist I remember singing along to. My dad loves him and would play his albums every Sunday when it was his turn to make breakfast. We'd sing Pretty Woman while making eggy bread and sausage."
Fred settled into a chair, watching Hermione slice up the bread while she reminisced. He loved learning little facts about her past. He knew the basics, as any decent boyfriend would, but moments like this was like finding pieces to a puzzle you never knew were missing.
"And now I know why I get 'Only the Lonely' stuck in my head every Sunday," Fred mused.
"Yeah, well better that then some of those songs I get stuck in my head from your Appraising Mirror," Hermione groused, pointing the knife in his direction. "I ended up asking my boss yesterday if he thought I was sexy because that thing wouldn't stop playing Rod Stewart while I did my makeup."
"What was his answer?" Fred asked, narrowing his eyes.
"That's not the point of my story," Hermione huffed, turning back to the stove to give the stew a quick stir.
"Inquiring minds need to know. What did he say?"
"He said he would neither confirm or deny that fact as he was a happily married man who valued his job and his relationship with his brother.
Fred grinned as he imagined Percy's petrified face as Hermione unknowingly sang such a "racy" song to him. His older brother had recently been promoted to oversee several departments, including Hermione's.
"Good man," Fred said with a nod.
"One of these days, I will figure out the spell to unstick that damn mirror and put my proper one back up," she said, shaking her head.
Their Appraising Mirror idea had been a bust. He and George had been able to get songs charmed onto the mirror, but instead of playing just a fun, quick music clip, it repeated the clip over and over until the person stepped away from it. Fred admitted that it did get a bit annoying. He was putting more and more days between shaving cause he couldn't stand the repetition of "I'm a joker, I'm a smoker, I'm a midnight toker". What he didn't want to admit is that he had no clue how to unstick the mirror either.
"So, are you going to tell me more about why you decided to turn the second bedroom into a petting zoo?" Hermione asked, setting a bowl of stew and a plate of bread in front of him.
"Because McGonagall wouldn't loan us a house elf," Fred answered, shoving a hunk of bread into his mouth.
"Fred! You didn't?"
"What?" Fred said, spraying bits of bread across the table. He swallowed and continued, "We needed something bigger than mice and rats. A house elf would have been able to tell us about any effects they experienced."
"House elves are not personal test subjects," Hermione said, sitting down across from him.
"We would have paid them!" Fred defended. "House-elf welfare aside, we've made some great progress with this serum. It's been working perfectly with the rodents. We want to make sure it's just a simple in and out sort of potion, and not something that burns off depending on the imbiber's metabolism."
"Which one of you pulled the short straw on being the human test subject?"
"Me. George insists that since he's going to a father he's exempt from product testing. A load of bollocks, but I didn't have the patience to argue him on it."
Hermione stirred her stew, blowing away the steam, before taking a tentative bite.
"Oh, don't forget, next week I'm going out with Ginny and the team for her birthday."
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you're going out to get drunk on a random Thursday," Fred laughed.
"It's not random. It's your sister's birthday. And I'm not going to get drunk. I'm just going to have a night out and celebrate," Hermione insisted.
"I think you should take a long weekend, just in case."
"Careful, or you won't get any dessert," Hermione warned, poking him with her spoon." A sudden, screeching caw made them both jump. "Go put a silencing charm on that room before we start getting complaints from the neighbors."
The following week past without incident. All of the creatures reacted as planned to the new serum, with no new or ill effects. Fred returned them all to Hagrid early Monday morning, thanking him for going above and beyond to help them, but assuring him that is was not necessary for any future loans.
Thursday night Fred took advantage of the empty flat to prepare a new batch of serum for their first human test run. To mask the bitterness of the potion, they had decided to put it in a mixture of dark and milk chocolate. If the testing was a success, that would be how they sold it.
Fred had just put the chocolate filled molds into the icebox to set when he heard the sound of the floo, followed by a thump and uncontrollable giggling. He quickly shut the icebox door and hurried into the living room. Hermione was lying flat on her back, laughing hysterically, with one shoe on and her skirt flipped up, showing off a barely-there pair of neon pink panties.
"I should have put a bet on you getting drunk tonight. Would have been the easiest money I ever made," Fred said, shaking his head as he walked over to stand above his inebriated girlfriend.
"Alicia--" HIC! "Tequila shots. Couldn't--" HIC! "Be rude."
Fred chuckled and knelt down. "Will you be spending the night on the floor, or shall I help you to bed?"
"Depends. Would you like me to do things to you on the floor or on the bed?"
Fred raised his eyebrows. "Things, eh?"
"I may be tipsy--"
"Pissed as a newt, love."
"But I'm not the least bit tired," Hermione finished.
"As enticing as the floor is," Fred said, scooping Hermione up, "I think the bedroom will be much more comfortable at the moment.
As he made his way down the hall, Hermione's arm shot out and grabbed for the doorframe of the bathroom.
"Oh! I should really brush my teeth first!"
Fred ignore her flailing arm and asked, "Have you vomited?"
"No, but--"
"Then it's okay," Fred said, depositing her on the bed and then falling down beside her. He pulled her close and kissed her hard, savoring the sting of the alcohol on her tongue. "I like tequila."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Min."
Hermione groaned and buried her face deeper into her pillow.
"Min!"
"No talk. Hurts," Hermione moaned.
She felt her hair being lifted. Forcing one eye open, she found herself nose to nose with Fred.
"I have to leave, but I need you to listen to me for a minute," he said, smoothing her hair back. "Blink once if you're listening."
Hermione tried to summon the energy to tell him to sod off, but it wasn't there, so she slowly blinked once.
"Good. I left you a Pepper-Up potion by the toaster. There are two slices of bread in there, all you have to do is push it down."
Hermione managed a little smile. She really had the best boyfriend around. Sure, sometimes he turned their apartment into a temporary zoo and invented silly singing mirrors. But he never failed to take care of her, even when the reason she needed it was because she ignored her sensible side and got caught up in her best friend's birthday celebrations.
"--I left a note, right beside it, okay?"
Shit, he was still talking? Trying to save face, Hermione rolled over and mumbled, "Mmmhmm."
"I really think you should just stay home and sleep this one off, love."
"Norrrggglla." Hermione grimaced and moved her tongue around her mouth, trying to come up with just a little bit of saliva. "Wa-wa-wa--"
"Wand or water?" Fred asked.
Hermione held up two fingers.
"I'm going to go ahead and assume you mean water and you're not telling me to piss off." Fred transfigured his bedside clock to a goblet and filled it up.
Hermione slowly sipped it from it and finally found her voice, though it was hoarse and scratchy.
"I'll be fine," she assured, taking another gulp of water. "If I laze about all day, I'll just feel worse. That Pepper-Up potion should get me moving."
"If you say so." Fred leaned over and gave her a kiss. "I'll see you tonight. Love you."
"Love you," Hermione called, before falling back on the bed once more.
It took another twenty minutes for her to summon the strength to roll out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen. As promised, she was greeted by the sight of bread in the toaster and a small vial of yellow potion. She lowered the toast and was consumed with a wave of nausea. When she threw open the window, a blessed breeze washed over her face. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply until the nauseous feeling faded away.
When she opened the icebox for the butter, she smiled at the large plate of chocolates. Fred really was too good to her. She decided against having those until the potion and toast had safely settled in her stomach.
By the time she had taken a shower and dressed for work, Hermione was feeling much better. Maybe not quite one hundred percent, but on her way there. She grabbed her lunch, a handful of chocolates, and flooed to the Ministry.
"You're late," her secretary, Marian, scolded as she grabbed a stack of purple memos and The Daily Prophet from the IN basket.
"Rough morning," Hermione said, unfolding a memo and sighing at the sight of the new intern's handwriting. No doubt at least half of the other memos were from him also. Marvin was a sweet guy but had absolutely no clue what he was doing. His father was an Unspeakable though, so Hermione was expected to answer all of his questions with a smile, no matter how dumb and repetitive they were. "Please don't tell me this dullard is in my office."
"Sorry Miss Granger," Marian said sympathetically. "I told him I'd let him know when you arrived, but he insisted on waiting."
"Thanks, Mar."
Hermione let out a heavy sigh and made her way to her office. As feared, Marvin Foster was in the small waiting area just outside her office, sitting on one of the faux leather chairs. He was a very tall and lanky man, with springy blond curls that he was constantly brushing away from his face. The moment he saw her, he jumped to his feet.
"Morning Miss Granger!" he chirruped, waving madly as if she was a hundred meters away and might've not seen him. "Do you have a spare moment or two? I just have a few quick questions."
"Of course, Marvin. Come on in." Hermione took down the wards on her office and ushered the young intern inside.
"When you didn't reply to my memos, I got worried."
Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes and flopped down in her desk chair. She tossed the memos to the side, figuring they were about to become useless.
"Apologies, my morning hasn't gone quite as planned. What can I help you with, Marvin?"
The next half hour was spent explaining policies and procedures that were clearly laid out during training and in several handbooks. Marvin wouldn't stop asking questions until Marian knocked on the door and let herself in, holding a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.
"Oh, thank you, Marian!" Hermione said, cutting Marvin off mid-sentence.
Marvin looked at his watch and stood up. "Sorry Miss Granger. I didn't realize how long I've been talking. If I have any more questions, I'll send you a note."
Marvin left and Hermione let her head drop onto her desk with a thud.
"I take it you won't be recommending him for a position come autumn?" Marian chuckled, setting the tea and biscuits beside Hermione's head.
Hermione groaned. She sat back up and brushed her hair from her face. "He does speak German. Maybe I can send him there."
"Well, if you need something stronger in that tea, come see me. I've got a few choice 'sweeteners' in my desk," Marian said with a wink.
Hermione's stomach rolled at the thought and she shook her head. "Thank you, but I'll stick with sugar for right now."
When Marian left, Hermione sipped her tea and pulled the chocolates from her pocket. She popped one into her mouth and relaxed back into her chair. The chocolate was soothing as it melted in her mouth. She ate another and washed it down with the rest of the tea.
There was a knock on her door and Marian poked her head back in.
"He's back," she said, frowning.
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "No. Tell him I'm not here. Better yet, tell him to go read a fu--"
Hermione felt her mouth moving, but no sound was coming out. She looked at Marian who stared at her expectantly.
"It's alright, dear. You don't have to censor yourself around me. I hear far worse from my husband," Marian assured.
Hermione tried to tell her that she wasn't trying to censor herself, but still, no words would come. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't even manage to force out a squeak or a whisper. Grabbing a quill, she scratched out a quick note
' My voice disappeared! '
"Oh!" Marian replied, glancing up from the note. "What could have done that? Did you eat something off today?"
Hermione shook her head and started scribbling, ' toast, Pepper-Up, tea, ch '. She dropped the quill and grabbed the last chocolate. On the top, were two linked W s imprinted in the sweet. ' I need to go! ' she wrote and grabbed her bag.
She stepped into the floo and dropped the powder, but nothing happened. Head hung in defeat, she silently renounced her title of Brightest Witch of the Age.
Marian stepped forward took a pinch of powder. "Where can I send you, dear?"
Hermione held up her wand and the tip lit up. Thank Merlin for her non-verbal spell ability. In the air she drew a W, and then x3.
"Thought that might be the case," Marian laughed. She dropped the powder and called out, "Weasley Wizard Wheezes!"
Hermione was engulfed in green flames and spun out through the network. Upon landing in the shop, she instinctively called out for Fred, but her silence was echoed. Outside the stockroom, the shop was empty save for George, who was at the counter leafing through a supply catalog. Hermione climbed up onto the stool beside him and plunked the chocolate in the middle of his catalog.
"Always a pleasant surprise when pretty girls bring me sweets," George said, picking up the chocolate and lifting it to his mouth. Hermione smacked his hand and he shot her a disgruntled look. "You bring me candy, but won't let me eat it. I don't know what sort of kinky, withholding games you and Fred play, but--"
His sentence was cut short by Hermione urgently tapping the side of his face. Finally having his attention, she jabbed a finger at the chocolate, then to herself while making a slashing gesture across her throat. George looked down at the chocolate, finally spotting the Ws, and his face lit up.
"Oh, Min..." he managed to croak out before laughter took over.
Hermione grabbed a quill and parchment, hastily writing ' It's not funny! '
"Oh, come on! It's a little bit funny. Ow! Geroff woman!" George cried as Hermione pelted him with an onslaught of smacks.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
" 'ave a good one, Mr. Weasley!"
"Ta, Sam!" Fred called, pocketing his Owl Post receipt and stepping out into the bustling crowd of Diagon Alley.
The late summer weather was in perfect form. Bright blue sky with a gentle breeze staving off the humidity. There hadn't been a rain cloud in sight for over a week, which was probably a London record.
Kids were weaving in and out of the throngs of shoppers, wary parents following close behind with school lists in hand. Fred knew that the Wheezes shop would be one of the last stops for many of them; their final summer holiday treats before returning to Hogwarts.
A new popup kiosk caught his eye and he had to do a double take at the man working the till. It was none other than Mundungus Fletcher. Except, this Mundungus was clean-cut, shaven, and wearing clean robes, with not a rip, stitch, or patch in sight. His cart stand was lined with fresh, brightly colored fruits and stacks of cups.
The pull of curiosity was too great and Fred sidestepped his usual path to go check out Mundungus' wares.
"Hey there, Dung," Fred greeted. "When did you turn into an entrepreneur?"
"Aye! 'Ow are ya, Fred?" Mundungus said, reaching out to shake Fred's hand. His face split into a large smile and Fred couldn't help but notice he was still missing some teeth. Some things never changed, he supposed.
"What have you got going here?"
"Well, I'll tell ya, lad. Been tryin' to get meself on the straight and narrow. Gettin' tired of the griftin' life," Mundungus said, shutting his register and leaning towards Fred. "I went and spent a bit o' time in Muggle London. Wanted to see what made 'em tick, ya know?"
"How'd that go for you?"
"Absolutely bostin! Muggles are fascinatin'. You ever been round any Muggles?" Mundungus asked.
Fred smiled and nodded. "My girlfriend is Muggle-born."
"One thing I noticed people going wild for was these smoothie things. Certain shops had folks linin' up out the door and down the footpath. I finally tried one meself and couldn't deny, they're bloody good. So I figured it was such a simple concept, even I couldn't bugger that idea up!" Mundungus spread his arms wide, showing off his pride and joy. "Only difference is I don' have one of those, what they call 'em, smoosheens?"
"Smoosheen?" Fred mentally went through all of Hermione's Muggle appliances and couldn't recall her calling any of them a 'smoosheen'. "Afraid I don't follow, Dung."
"It's a contraption Muggles throw food into, push a button, and after a bunch of whirring noises the food is all liquified and ya can drink it," Mundungus explained.
"Do you mean MA-chine?" Fred asked "Hermione has one of those. Think it's called a blender."
"Tha's it, lad!" Mundungus said with a victorious clap. "Muggles have to hook up a bunch of cords and wires to make 'em, but I foun' a simple mixing spell has the same effect. Pick some fruit and I'll show ya!"
"Sure, why not," Fred said with a shrug. He looked over the selection and concluded that Mundungus wasn't pulling any punches with his business venture. There was pretty much every fruit imaginable piled on the cart and in crates. "Let's try strawberries, blueberries, and bananas."
Mundungus nodded and set to work. He summoned the fruit, vanishing the banana peels, and dropped them into a bowl with milk and yoghurt. After a swift wave of his wand, he poured the deep purple contents into a cup, topping it off with a twisty straw and a small, pink novelty umbrella.
Fred took a tentative sip and gave an appreciative nod. "Not bad at all Dung. Can I get another to take along with George?"
With the second drink in hand, Fred gave Mundungus a Galleon and insisted on no change, letting him know he'd direct all of the Wizard Wheezes' customers to his stand. The morning was turning out to be quite idyllic and he almost felt like whistling as he walked back to the shop.
The feeling didn't last long. He walked into shouts from George, calling for a mass of curls to cease and desist.
"Do I even want to know?" Fred asked, slowly walking up to the counter.
Hermione backed off of George, flopping onto the stool and blowing the wisps of hair from her face. His brother took a few steps back, but wouldn't take his eyes off Hermione as he accepted the smoothie Fred handed to him. Hermione looked from Fred to the drink, and back to him. She gave him an expectant look and he laughed.
"Sorry, darling. I didn't know you would be dropping in for a surprise visit or I would have brought you one too. If you tell me what flavor you'd like, I'll go back and have Dung whip one up for you."
"Dung made this?" George said, looking down at his cup in shock.
"Yeah, I'm impressed too. What would you like Min? Any fruit you want, he's got it. Pineapple? Raspberries? Pears?"
"Go ahead, Min. Tell Fred what you'd like," George said with a snicker. Hermione's nostrils flared and she started smacking him again. "All right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"
A small square caught Fred's eye and he picked it up. It was one of the chocolates he had made the night before. He finally realised why Hermione was here.
"Oh, Min..." Fred laughed.
Hermione looked at him, her face of a mixture of worry and frustration. Fred moved around to the back of the counter and gathered her in his arms.
"I told you this morning not to eat those. I even left a note, right beside the toaster."
Hermione's eyes narrowed and he could see her trying to remember the note he had written. Suddenly her eyes got wide and she threw her hands up over her face. In a flurry of gestures, she grabbed her stomach and then mimed opening a window.
Fred nodded in understanding and said, "Must have got blown out of sight before you saw it. Well, I guess you took my place as our human test subject. If you don't mind, we're going to have to pick your brain and find out if you're feeling any effects other than temporary muteness."
Hermione started scribbling on a piece of parchment, then pushed it to Fred.
Strawberry
Peach
Pineapple
Ten minutes later, Fred had met Hermione's negotiation terms and she was happily sipping her smoothie while he jotted down questions.
"Okay, what time did you eat the chocolate?"
' 2 pieces, around 9:00 '
Fred bit his lip and Hermione started frantically tapping his arm.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. It's just that we never experimented with double doses. Why would anyone need a double dose?" Fred scratched down a few notes, then asked, "Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary? Headache? Nausea? Dizziness?"
Hermione held up one finger and then two, but then held up both her hands like she was comparing the weight of imaginary objects.
"That's true. They could very well still be lingering from your night of tequila shots. Can't make this easy for me, can you Granger?" Fred groused, jotting down more notes. She gave him a playful shove and he laughed. "It's not my fault you have an insatiable sweet tooth when you're hungover."
Hermione let her head thud onto the counter, her curls spilling out onto the parchments and over the edge. A little girl approached them as her older brother browsed the aisles.
"Is she okay?" the girl asked, trying to look under the curls to get a peek at Hermione.
"She will be," Fred assured, rubbing Hermione's back.
Hermione lifted her head, smiled, and gave the little girl a thumbs up. The girl returned the gesture and skipped off to join her brother. Hermione turned to Fred and he stroked his hand down the side of her face.
"I promise, we'll fix this. It's just going to take some patience. I was going to wait until tonight to brew the antidote, but I'll get started on it after the lunch rush." He leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled back and shook her head. "I can't just bugger off in the middle of back to school week."
Hermione pointed to herself, then to Fred. She then jabbed her finger at Fred again and pointed to the stockroom.
"How are you going to do that when you can't speak?"
She waved her hand, gesturing around the shop, then tapped the back of her hand.
"Yes, I know, but-"
Hermione stomped her foot, interrupting Fred's protest, and folded her hands together.
Fred relented and turned to his brother. "Is that okay with you?"
"Mate, I have no clue what's just transpired between you two," George answered.
"She wants me to go start on the antidote now and while I'm working on that, she'll take over for me out here." Hermione gave him a poke in the ribs and he continued, "And, she says she doesn't need her voice because she knows this place like the back of her hand and will be fine."
George looked from Fred to Hermione, and then back again. "You seriously understood all those silly hand signals?"
Hermione stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips.
"She doesn't think they're silly," Fred translated.
"Who am I to argue that?"
"Alright, I'll get started on it now." Fred checked his watch and then mentally calculates the hours between the chocolates being done last night and when Hermione had eaten them this morning. "It should take about an hour to brew. Then it will need to set for twelve hours." Fred continued on, answering Hermione's bemused look. "With edibles, we usually let it settle for 24 hours. You ate these after only twelve hours. So, I'm figuring you can try the antidote at around eleven tonight. If that doesn't work, we'll wait another twelve hours. If that still doesn't work, it's back to the drawing board."
The fury in Hermione's eyes was terrifying. He didn't need any hand gestured to know that the antidote needed to be perfect on the first brewing.
"No worries, darling. I know what I'm doing. You'll be able to tell me off again soon enough."
He kissed her quickly and set off to the workroom. It was an uneventful hour. The antidote serum brewed perfectly, as he had expected it to. In order to tell the two elixirs apart, Fred mixed the antidote with white chocolate and took it upstairs to set in George's icebox.
When he returned to the front, George was running the till and Hermione was assisting customers on the floor. At the moment she had several pieces of parchment tucked under her arm, as she held up five fingers and directed a mother and son to the right.
"She made herself signs for some of the denser lot that couldn't figure out that elaborate code," George explained as Fred sidled up beside him. "For the most part, she's gotten everyone what they needed and only one jerk dared to complain."
"I assume he had to leave empty-handed?"
"After the remark he made, the bloke was lucky to leave with his hands." George pointed to the short list of names of people that they'd had to ban from the shop over the years. The ink was still shiny on the name 'Nigel Carrington'. "Been a while since we had to add to that list, but calling an employee a 'retarded mute' will do the trick."
Fred bristled at the remark, his hands instantly clenching and wanting very much to punch something.
"Don't worry. Min didn't hear it and the bloke didn't put up a fight after an overhearing customer and I turned our wands on him."
"He's lucky we only take names and not pictures," Fred muttered, glaring at the newest banned name.
Quick taps on the counter drew Fred's attention away from the list. Hermione was standing across from him and she looked exhausted. The Pepper-Up potion was wearing off and her night of drinking had caught up to her. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was more frizz than curls, and her attempted smile was waning. Part of Fred was happy that she had accidentally eaten the chocolate because he wasn't sure how she had planned to make it through her work day.
Despite her exhaustion, Hermione tapped on the counter and held out her hand. Fred laughed and shook his head.
"You're crazy. You're about to fall asleep where you stand and you want to balance the books? Go lay down," Fred said, nodding his head toward the stockroom. Hermione huffed and tapped the counter again, but Fred grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips. "Nap, and then I'll give you the books."
Hermione pursed her lips and he knew she wanted to fight, but with no voice and no energy she sighed and let her shoulders slump. Fred smiled, cupped her face in his hands, and leaned over for a kiss.
"Go rest," he whispered.
With a poorly hidden yawn, Hermione nodded and dragged herself back through the curtain.
"Marry her."
Fred turned to his brother, surprised at the sudden and very forward comment.
"Crikey, George," Fred hissed. "Could you say that any louder?" He peeked behind the curtain and was relieved to see Hermione had passed out as soon as she had laid her head down. "Why would you say that?"
"So, you don't want to marry her?" George questioned.
"I didn't say that," Fred said quickly. "Of course I want to, it's just-"
"Excuse me!" A curly headed boy was holding onto the counter, jumping up and down. "Where are your dungbombs?"
"Aisle four, good sir," George answered, pointing the boy to the right. He scampered off and George turned back to Fred. "It's just what?"
Fred closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn't the first he had thought about his future with Hermione. Ever since their talk about children, marriage proposals had been rolling around in his mind. He found himself thinking about the right moment, rehearsing what he would say to her, and even lingering at jewelry shop windows. In the end, one terrifying thought stopped him in his tracks- what if she said no?
Figuring he had nothing to lose in that moment, he finally admitted to his twin, "I don't know if she wants to marry me."
George stared at him for a full minute before letting out a solitary chuckle. When Fred didn't laugh George's eyes widened.
"Oh, sweet Gryffindor's ghost, you're serious," he said, before letting loose with laughter.
"You don't have to be such a prick," Fred muttered.
"Oh mate, I'm sorry," George wheezed, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder. "I'm not trying to be a prick, but you are so daft sometimes. That woman," he said, pointing to the curtain, "loves you. I have never seen a pair more in sync then the two of you. No one else would understand all that flapping and tapping she's been doing."
Fred ducked his head as he felt his face burn with embarrassment.
"Seriously though." George clapped a hand on each of Fred's shoulders and Fred looked up, into the very serious eyes of his twin. "If you ask, she'll say yes."
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"Okay, if you feel anything odd or painful, you let me know right away," Fred instructed, pulling a chocolate from the mold.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement and held out her hand.
"Or maybe we should wait until it's set for the full twenty-four hours. What do you think, George?" Fred asked, pulling the chocolate away from Hermione.
"I believe I will take a page out of Ang's book and stay out of this," George called from the couch, where he had his head lying in Angelina's lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Hermione stomped her foot and made a grabbing motion with her hand. This wasn't fair! She was tired of not being able to speak and having to rely on absurd hand gestures.
"I'm just looking out for your safety, darling," Fred cooed, ruffling her hair.
Hermione wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She succeeded in taking him by surprise and, as she deepened the kiss, she was able to slip the chocolate from his hand. As he pulled back, slightly dazed, she popped the chocolate into her mouth and smiled as her throat was coated in a soothing warmth.
"That wasn't very fair," Fred breathed. "Did it work?"
Hermione took a breath and said, "Malted Mutes."
"What?"
"That's what you should call these things! Look," she said, grabbing the mold from Fred. "You have them stamped with your W s, for Wizard Wheezes. But flip it around and you get two Ms. Malted Mutes!" She handed the mold back to him.
Fred arched an eyebrow and rotated the mold in his hands, grinning and shaking his head.
"Nice to hear your voice again, sweetheart," he chuckled.
George sat up and looked back at them.
"If your girlfriend keeps naming our products, we're going to have to make her a partner."
Fred put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "I don't think I could find a better one."