Rule 1: If it's not Mrs. Weasley's food or candy that you brought from home, don't put it in your mouth.
Rule 2: Don't ever leave your astronomy supplies un-warded or in a place of common use.
Rule 3: Always use anti charming spells on all clothes, pieces of furniture, and books.
Needless to say, Hermione had learned to never trust a Weasley twin.
If you want to live a full and happy life, free of pink hair and canary yellow feathers; you live by these commandments. But, the twins are very clever and oh so deviant. If they can't get you with a charm, they will charm you with their words; always your first mistake, they will get you to slip up on your words and say things you don't mean. Yes, they are the tricky sort.
Hermione mused.
She walked along the corridor between the records room and her desk. Her thoughts floated back to one memory of many of the twins.
…if she didn't have the vivid memory, and the still white scar 'Mudblood' etched into her skin; Hermione might almost forget that a great battle had happened here, just over a year ago. Hermione looked miniscule as she stood in the Hogwart's library. She was the only one of the trio to come back and finish their education. She graduated top of her class and was spending her summer in the service of Headmistress McGonagall, restoring Hogwart to full capacity.
She had just completed restocking the shelf, turning around at the sound of a soft *pop*. She rounded to face the current bane of here existence, The Weasley Twins, she inwardly rolled her eyes. She couldn't judge them too harshly; after all, it had been her that brought back Fred from the edge of death. Sometimes she thought he may have forgotten, but there was always something hidden behind the twinkle in his eyes, something…appreciative.
"Oh, Fred, look at our ickle golden girl. I must say, 'Mione, you look infinitely better in these robes than Pince ever could. In fact, if you had been the reigning librarian in our school days, we might have actually studied," George wagged his eyebrows at her. This was not the first time the twins had visited her and she was quite honestly tired of their banter being so one sided. She could play this game too.
"I wouldn't take a second, meaningful glance at a pair of goofy looking twins that dressed in such hideous looking robes," she teased about their maroon dragon scale, work-robes.
She tugged on Fred's sleeve to emphasize the point. She was quite proud of herself. Fred, however, had other plans. He slung a long arm around her petite shoulder.
"You might want to be careful I'm naked under these robes," he casually teased.
Hermione flushed crimson, right to the roots of her hair.
George sniggered at her embarrassment, "Am I to believe that you are not nude under your clothes?"
He asked with such sincerity. Before she could stop herself, she answered reflexively, "No, I am."
I don't believe there is a word to describe the color of her face. She could take on every sort of dark magic and even her NEWTS, but talking so casually about nudity was not at all suitable…
Hermione signed out of the log sheet, shaking her head at the memory. She recalled over half a dozen other memories, where the twins made her the fool.
I guess I'll just pop over to see how Molly is fairing
It was quite a spectacle to behold, whenever Molly Weasley became ill. It consisted of grown men crying, because they had no food. At present, every male Weasley was in England. Bill and Charlie were in their old rooms. Bill, because Fleur was visiting friends in the south of France. Charlie, because of a recent dragon wound, which required some rest and recuperation. Percy had his own flat. The twins were juggling their time between the Diagon ally and Hogsmeade branches of the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Ron was currently living with his fiancée, Luna Lovegood, which Mrs. Weasley was not happy about. Ginny had managed to miss the whole ordeal; currently Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter were enjoying their honeymoon.
Hermione apparated into the kitchen of the magically enlarged home.
"Oh! Deary, you surprised me," she heard the squeak of Mrs. Weasley's voice, "I wasn't expecting to see your lovely face today." Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a hug; it lacked the usual bone-crunching element.
Hermione took a step back to assess the woman that undeniably took up the spot of second mother in her heart. Molly Weasley was still plump and jovial looking. She had streaks of grey at her temples. That was new, Hermione noted. The war, not to mention the recent wedding of her only daughter, had taken its toll on the woman's nerves.
"I'm sorry, Molly, I didn't mean to startle you," Hermione's voice filled with concern.
Originally, she hadn't noticed the twins sitting on stools, wiggling their eyebrows. She flushed slightly. No matter how hard she tried to remain unaffected, they always seemed to elicit a reaction from her. Then she realized why they were there, today was their birthday.
"What beautiful flowers, Molly," Hermione pulled her gaze from the two boys, hoping Mrs. Weasley hadn't noticed.
"Thank you, dear, Fred and George got them for me," Mrs. Weasley cooed.
Hermione glanced toward the pair of mischievous twins. Briefly, she pondered the probability of the twins pranking their own mother. Having decided that they wouldn't risk their mother's wrath, she bent over, brushing a run-a-way curl out of her face, and smelled the flowers.
"It's a shame that I'm sick and my nose is too stuffed up to smell a thing. I'd bet they're wonderful. Forget-me-nots are my favorite," Mrs. Weasley sighed and retreated upstairs in favor of a book and bed.
Hermione's mind reeled at the horrible mistake she had made, "What did you guys do to them?"
She demanded as she pointed at the potted plant.
"They're Forget-Me-"Naughties". They're guaranteed to make you forget all of your prudent ideals and use all sorts of tactics to get what you want," George explained.
"We were going to use narcissus, but we didn't want to find ourselves at the business end of Cissa Malfoy's wand, or Lucy's for that matter," Fred added.
For one fraction of a second, Hermione forgot her anger at the mention of the Malfoy's nicknames. She would never forget when Narcissa Malfoy appeared at Tonk's and Remus' memorial service. Cissa had made it clear that she wanted to mend her relationship with her sister, Andromeda. Lucius Malfoy had used all of his resources to help the ministry. Draco was training to be a Healer in pediatrics, having hit it off well with Teddy. The little metamorphous had done miracle for the former, royal prat. But, even the miracle that was the 'Malfoy transformation' couldn't distract her from the surprising thoughts that were attacking her mind.
Hermione noticed how much she liked the way Fred's lips moved when he talked. She shook the disturbing thought from her mind.
"Why would you do that?" She seethed at them.
"You have this big, beautiful mind, but you're wasting it on all those books," Fred pouted.
"Yes, we always say something clever and spectacular, and you always blush," George continued.
"It's too one-sided; won't it be fun with both sides playing it? Besides, it is our birthday. You didn't forget, did you?"
Fred's question made her blush. They always win.
"Besides, it's one of our least potent ones. You might not even notice a change," Fred continued.
She really wished that he would stop talking, but no such luck; in fact she found herself swimming in his vast eyes. She finally realized the implications of such a charm. The look on her face must have given her away, because they flashed her identical smirks.
Lowered inhibition.
Hermione had made herself busy in the kitchen, someone had to make dinner, after all. She couldn't hide it, she was hiding from Fred. It had been both twins that pranked her, but Fred was the one who she was trying to not embarrass herself in front of. After this afternoon's prank, Hermione thought she had nearly bit her lower lip off, trying not to say anything compromising. In fact, she ran from the twins every time she saw them.
Angelina was a great help with dinner preparations, she was currently dating George; it was a well know fact that Mrs. Weasley taught all the women, that she thought would one day become the next Mrs. Weasley, how to cook. Molly had hoped that Ron and Hermione would've worked out, but it just didn't happen. Hermione looked out to the great room. All of the Weasley family members, minus Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley (Who had decided to stay by Molly's side.), Ginny, and Harry, were there.
Her eyes gravitated toward Fred, who was currently lounging on one of the old couches. His muscular arms were tucked neatly behind his head, highlighting the broadness of his shoulders. She found herself blushing. She had a problem, a very gingery, man-involving problem; a problem that was now looking right at her and grinning.
Hermione flushed once more and hurried to find an activity to occupy her thoughts. Angelina must've noticed…
"Hermione, you know if you like Fred, you should go talk to him," Angelina nudged her. She must've been talking a few lessons from George, because right now she was grinning like the Mad Hatter.
"I'm not…I don't like him. Fred and George pulled a prank on me earlier. Charmed flowers, which they gave to their mum, but since she's all stuffed up, she couldn't smell them. So, they only affected me," Hermione stammered out, then continued, "I'm going to give this tea to Molly."
With that Hermione scurried up the stairs.
"Vat vaz zat about?" Fleur asked as she entered the kitchen, referring to Hermione's dash out of the kitchen.
"Oh, she's undeniably in love with Fred," Angelina drawled as she grabbed several plates out of the cupboard.
"Vell, ahf-course she does. She stares at him far too often to not be in love viz him. She iz quite heelz-in-ze-heads for him," Fleur commented, Angelina laughed at Fleur's botching of the English phrase.
"Honestly, she has no idea. Fred has been sending her signs for a while that he was interested too, and I thought men were bad at taking a hint. She thinks that it's only because of a prank they pulled on her, but I helped them with that charm. It only makes her more brazen, it doesn't fake feelings," she explained to the French woman.
Hermione descended the creaking stairs, and came to a stop at the base. The table had already been set and most people had taken their seats. She surveyed the scene and found that the only remaining seat was inconveniently situated between the twins.
Hermione never was the glaring type, but right now, Angelina was getting the full brunt of Hermione's accusing looks.
Hermione gracefully took her seat, Fred to the right of her and George to her left. Bill and Charlie shot her questioning looks as she took nearly as much food as Ron. There was no way she was going to give herself any opportunity to say something inappropriate. Percy was currently talking about Ministry protocol, her cue to zone out.
Hermione had done very well, so far. A side from the wildly inappropriate thoughts of Fred that were whizzing about her brain and the butterflies that attacked her stomach every time Fred would 'accidentally' brush against her, Hermione was able to distract herself from vocalizing all of the things she wanted to do to Fred right now.
She had been staring at her wine for too long, apparently, because a voice was pulling her out of her reverie.
"Hermione, are you unwell?" Percy asked.
She looked around the table the twins, Angelina, and Fleur sniggered under their breath. Bill and Charlie also shot her knowing looks. They must've figured that the twins were up to something.
"Uh…just zoned out, tough day at work. Sorry, what were you talking about," Hermione apologized.
"The twins mentioned that they plan to expand their wonder witch products, I told them that such products should be banned. Don't you think so?" Percy continued, oblivious to the awkward position he had just put Hermione in.
She was hoping to drop the subject, but Charlie re-enforced the subject, "Yes, Hermione, what does a woman of your prudent ideals think of such unmentionable products?
She shot him a pointed look, he didn't seem too affected. He just grinned lazily at her.
When did she become such a wuss. She looked at the cocky smirk on the twins' faces, oh, that simply wouldn't do.
"Well, I think that it's rather sad that there is a need for them. The market is obviously created by men's inability to get the job done. Tell me, George, did Fred and you get the idea from personal experience.
Charlie choked on his wine, and Bill muttered something about 'playing dirty'. The twins had been completely content on taking it easy with Hermione, but this was a summons to step it up.
George leaned into her a bit, "That's a nice pair of lady balls you just grew there."
"Welcome to the game, Granger," Fred finished in a whisper, but continued in full voice, "Unfortunately, most blokes aren't as blessed as we are, but you more than welcome to verify."
It was quite clear that the time for protecting propriety had passed. No more whispering, time for action.
I'd like to be the first to point out that there had never been a conversation quite like this at the Weasley dinner table, and that's saying quite a bit.
Hermione was determined to win this game; a competition was a competition, no matter how silly. Insults and innuendos were flung carelessly about. It had gone from the twins trying to get Hermione out of her shell to Fred and Hermione seeing who would squirm first. Angelina shot a smug look at George, who at this point in time, was just hoping Hermione and his daft twin would make an excuse to leave, shag, and get it over with.
The pace seemed to change when desert was dished out. It was clear that innuendos were not the winning hand of cards.
Hermione, in all her brilliance, started a conversation with Charlie about the recent opening of a Dragon reserve in Wales that he was heading up. She casually laid her hand right above Fred's knee.
She had never expected Charlie to be as observant as he was. Fred nearly choked on his Pumpkin juice. It was quite apparent to everyone at the table, what Hermione was playing at, but conversation continued. No matter, she slid her hand dramatically up his thigh.
This time he was ready and composed as he leaned into her once more.
"If you wanted me that badly, Granger, you should've said so," Fred slipped his hand under her smaller one, working his fingers into the spaces between hers.
It almost seemed like a step back in her opinion. What was he trying to accomplish?
"I don't think you understand how this game is played," she whispered to him.
"No, I practically made the rules. Sometimes games can be a win-win situation, if you know what I mean," he suggested as he moved their intertwined hands to her lap, discreetly of course.
Hermione digested his words, and wondered if he was actually suggesting what she thought he was. It was increasingly hard to tell if it was reality or her fantasy.
I want this
She couldn't recall a moment in her life where she had admitted to herself that she truly wanted something; something just for her, not because it would make others happy or safe.
"Well, maybe you can show me how that win-win thing works, when I give you your birthday present later," she hoped she hadn't sounded too desperate; she was definitely stepping out on a limb here.
The group had dissolved from the table and migrated back to the living room. Well, most of the group, two particular individuals had mysteriously slipped away.
"Angie, mind if I stay at yours tonight? I don't think I'll be venturing anywhere near my flat," George asked.
It was good call on George's part. If he had been foolish enough to return to the flat, which he shared with his twin, he would've gotten a rather excellent eyeful of Hermione's arse, and an incredibly less appreciated one of Fred's. They didn't even make it pass the hall way, before they'd lost every ounce of control.
Rule 1: Collaborating on pranks with the twins ensure you immunity.
Rule 2: Fred will never mess with your astronomy supplies for a very simple payment (If you catch my drift.)
Rule 3: Violet was not the twins' color, no matter how fun it is to dye their hair.
If you want to live a full and happy life, free of pink hair and canary yellow feathers; then dating a Weasley twin isn't for you.
However, if you want to live a full and happy life with the occasional hair dying and feather sprouting; then dating a Weasley twin is just you cup of tea.