I needed a place for twin drabbles and decided to put them into one story rather than publish many little ones. I'm trying not to go into any angst involving that which must not be named (Fred's death), but a few may slip. I apologize for not being sorry when it happens.
"Would you like some toast, 'Mione?" Fred grinned down at her, a piece of toasted bread in his freckle-spotted hand.
Most everyone knew that if one of the twins offered something to you, particularly something you were to ingest, it would, in all likelihood, end disastrously. Which was why Hermione Granger was squinting up at Fred, her eyebrows furrowed.
"It's four in the afternoon."
His grin didn't falter; he only pushed it towards her.
"We're in the attic, Fred."
He was now beaming with unrestrained joy.
"Fred."
He was silent, still smiling at her.
"Fred."
She huffed in annoyance at his silence— and slightly frightening smile. They stared at each other, brown to brown. She hiked an eyebrow up, waiting for him to speak.
"I'm not taking the toast, Fred."
He merely smiled at her.
"Fred, stop offering me the toast."
Still, silence, and that grin.
"For the gods' sake, I'm not taking the bloody toast!"
His grin grew, if at all possible, and he slowly opened his mouth to say, "Just a bit of toast, 'Mione."
He then lifted the buttered, toasted bread, and viciously tore a chunk out of it. He chewed loudly, crunching obnoxiously, and kept beaming. After a few moments, the toast was gone, and Hermione was completely dumbfounded as he waved cheerily before apparating away.
"You don't even live here anymore!" She yelled to the empty space.