"Granger, we need your help."
Fred stood in front of Hermione, looking decidedly less posh than normal. His robes had tiny rips and what appeared to be miniature bite marks chewed out of the magenta fabric. Hair in disarray, strands were swept up and around and in curly swirls.
Cautiously, Hermione examined his face, and then his apparel, before raising her eyes to his.
"What exactly is it for you require my assistance?"
She wasn't sure if she wanted to help if her own robes would end up in a similar state.
"There's been an… invasion of sorts in the shop." His voice dropped low, speaking as though they weren't alone in her flat.
Hermione raised an eyebrow in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
"Invasion?"
Fred nodded furiously, eyes wide with entreaty.
"It's tearing up the place something awful. I left Georgie—Oh, gods! I left George with that thing!"
Frantic, he darted towards her fireplace and had barely tossed the floo powder in and yelled the shop before he was stepping into the flames. With a familiar whoosh, Fred had gone and Hermione stood alone in her flat, bewildered.