Not Normal
Pairing: F/G (Twincest. If it squicks ya, why are you here?)
Summary: Hermione notices, even if no one else does.
Spoilers: Takes place in the 4th year (Hermione's), but no real spoilers.
Rating: PG-13, methinks.
.:~~~:.
It's not normal, you know. *They* aren't normal. Fred and George, that is. I can tell.
Everyone believes me to be intelligent only in terms of books and such. Who knows, maybe they're right. All I know is that they're. . . Well, they're. . .
Hmm. . .
They're looking at each other in that way again. The way that makes everyone think they're just thinking up another prank or some such nonsense. But. . . It's not. It's hard to describe, but something in their eyes makes me believe that there's more to it than that. Fred's eyes light up and George's hand reaches over for a second and they both have these grins on their faces that just say. . . Something. And it's got nothing to do with pranks, and everything to do with *them*.
I sometimes wish that someone would look at me that way, and it's then that I realize just *what* it is that they see in each other. Don't look at me that way, if you looked hard enough you could tell, too. I just happen to observe more than talk. I like it that way, you know.
.:~~~:.
It's 3 o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Strange, that I would be up this early, but I think there's something that needs to be seen. And it's going to get me into a *lot* of trouble. I can tell.
I walk down the stairs from the girls' dormitory quietly. There are whispers, you know, but only from two voices. And then there's a small gasp, and I'm suddenly aware that I was right all along. Not that this surprises me in the least, but then. . . Nothing much does, anymore. I smile and quirk my eyebrows at the site before me.
George and Fred, what *have* you gotten yourselves into, my dears?
Fred's hand is sliding under George's shirt, and George is kissing a path down Fred's neck. Fred and George. George and Fred. That's all it's ever been, hasn't it? I guess in a certain way it *does* make sense, two halves of a whole, two sides to one coin. Anyone would be lucky to have such a thing. It truly is too bad that it's one of the most hideous taboos out there.
I clear my throat softly, just loud enough for them to hear. They turn around quickly and I find them staring at me in shock and guilt, them sprawled across the couch and me with my head cocked to the sides, looking out from my seated place on the stairs.
"Hermione?!" George whispers frantically, and pulls away from an equally distraught Fred.
I chuckle. What an awkward predicament this is, isn't it?
"It's not right, you know," I say, voicing what's been going through my head all along.
They look down to their feet with guilt once again. I begin to chew on my lip, softly.
"Are you going to tell-"
"No."
They look relieved. I suppose I would be too, but then, it's not me who's sleeping with my sibling, then, is it?
"Um, not that we don't appreciate it, but. . ."
I smile again. I was hoping they'd ask me this.
"It's not my place. And I suppose. . . I suppose that I want what you have. You're perfect together, you know."
"You two have something special, truly, you do. It's not every day that someone finds there soul mate has been staring at you right in the face all your life. And it's even less often that they feel the same way."
"Thank you, Hermione."
I nod and turn to go back upstairs, before turning my head back to them once more.
"Oh, and boys? Do try to keep from doing *things* in a place where anyone could see you. I think Lee is getting suspicious about where your hands are during supper."
I grin and walk upstairs as they gawk at me from behind.
The End
Pairing: F/G (Twincest. If it squicks ya, why are you here?)
Summary: Hermione notices, even if no one else does.
Spoilers: Takes place in the 4th year (Hermione's), but no real spoilers.
Rating: PG-13, methinks.
.:~~~:.
It's not normal, you know. *They* aren't normal. Fred and George, that is. I can tell.
Everyone believes me to be intelligent only in terms of books and such. Who knows, maybe they're right. All I know is that they're. . . Well, they're. . .
Hmm. . .
They're looking at each other in that way again. The way that makes everyone think they're just thinking up another prank or some such nonsense. But. . . It's not. It's hard to describe, but something in their eyes makes me believe that there's more to it than that. Fred's eyes light up and George's hand reaches over for a second and they both have these grins on their faces that just say. . . Something. And it's got nothing to do with pranks, and everything to do with *them*.
I sometimes wish that someone would look at me that way, and it's then that I realize just *what* it is that they see in each other. Don't look at me that way, if you looked hard enough you could tell, too. I just happen to observe more than talk. I like it that way, you know.
.:~~~:.
It's 3 o'clock on a Tuesday morning. Strange, that I would be up this early, but I think there's something that needs to be seen. And it's going to get me into a *lot* of trouble. I can tell.
I walk down the stairs from the girls' dormitory quietly. There are whispers, you know, but only from two voices. And then there's a small gasp, and I'm suddenly aware that I was right all along. Not that this surprises me in the least, but then. . . Nothing much does, anymore. I smile and quirk my eyebrows at the site before me.
George and Fred, what *have* you gotten yourselves into, my dears?
Fred's hand is sliding under George's shirt, and George is kissing a path down Fred's neck. Fred and George. George and Fred. That's all it's ever been, hasn't it? I guess in a certain way it *does* make sense, two halves of a whole, two sides to one coin. Anyone would be lucky to have such a thing. It truly is too bad that it's one of the most hideous taboos out there.
I clear my throat softly, just loud enough for them to hear. They turn around quickly and I find them staring at me in shock and guilt, them sprawled across the couch and me with my head cocked to the sides, looking out from my seated place on the stairs.
"Hermione?!" George whispers frantically, and pulls away from an equally distraught Fred.
I chuckle. What an awkward predicament this is, isn't it?
"It's not right, you know," I say, voicing what's been going through my head all along.
They look down to their feet with guilt once again. I begin to chew on my lip, softly.
"Are you going to tell-"
"No."
They look relieved. I suppose I would be too, but then, it's not me who's sleeping with my sibling, then, is it?
"Um, not that we don't appreciate it, but. . ."
I smile again. I was hoping they'd ask me this.
"It's not my place. And I suppose. . . I suppose that I want what you have. You're perfect together, you know."
"You two have something special, truly, you do. It's not every day that someone finds there soul mate has been staring at you right in the face all your life. And it's even less often that they feel the same way."
"Thank you, Hermione."
I nod and turn to go back upstairs, before turning my head back to them once more.
"Oh, and boys? Do try to keep from doing *things* in a place where anyone could see you. I think Lee is getting suspicious about where your hands are during supper."
I grin and walk upstairs as they gawk at me from behind.
The End