Muse : [/mju :z/] : (noun) a goddess that inspires a creative artist, esp a poet / the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.
Hermione wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She, indeed, was brilliant. But sometimes, she could also be very, very blind. And so, in years of products created to fit her needs by the one and only Weasley twins, not once has it crossed her mind that she was the inspiration of the product. Not even if her house was filled with their products, from the foot massage rug to the self-cleaning dishes.
The thought was crossing's Fred mind as once again, she gave him an excellent idea for the shop. He smiled to himself, reminiscing the first time she became his muse.
It was a few weeks before the Yule Bal, and Ginny was all over Hermione, trying to plan her looks. Of course, Hermione dearest wanted something simple. She didn't like the fuss Ginny was making about her. She was talking with the Weasley's. There was Ginny, Fred, Ron and George. Harry was off to give a letter to his owl.
Once again, Fred caught himself overhearing Hermione talking.
''I wish there was something, a spell, a potion, I could put on my hair to turn the frizz into nice curls, you know? Without burning all of my hair. Even for me, that's beyond my knowledge,'' she huffed.
Fred loved when she did that. She would pout, and her cheeks would be a bit red. That's when she was the cutest.
In the corner of his mind, he started noting the ingredients he would need to make such a potion. It wouldn't be expensive to produced if they made a lot at the same time. George and him had the idea of a shop since they were kids, and they were thinking about it more and more. All they needed was a bunch of products to start off with.
Fred developed the potion just in time for the Yule Bal, and the smile and hug Hermione gave him was all he needed to confirm to things. First, he should have asked to the Yule Bal before somebody else did. Second, he would work again, night and day, to see that smile again. And that meant he was into deep.
George would never let it slip.
And it went on like that, for years. She always had those key sentences that turned the light up in his head.
After the death of her pet, she felt lonely. In a family meeting, she let out a sentence that caught his attention.
''I just wish I had a little fury pet to welcome me home from work, you know. Something to cuddle''
''Well I can lend you Fred here, but he's not that fury, but he does like to cuddle'' joked George, tapping his back. Everybody laughed along, but Fred tried his best to keep his ears from being as red as he thought they were.
George nudged him the ribs and pointed with his chin the direction of the young, blushing lady at the end of the table.
And so Fred came with the idea of pygmy puffs, and offered her one on her birthday.
Again, she blessed him with a smile, and a hug. And so kept on working on his products to get one of those, hugs, smiles, or both.
One day, Hermione stepped in the shop. She was there for the new hair product they had create, a spray that would hairstyle any type of her into a beautiful bun. She meant buy that, but then she got distracted by the bath bombs that would keep the water warm. They were truly a piece of art. She picked one in the casket and smeeled it. She hummed, satisfied with her pick. Citrus and mint was her favorite smell.
''Well hello, Hermione. Got lost in the beauty products again? On her day off at that!'' The twins popped in front of her.
''Yes, actually, '' she smiled. ''They are so creative! Where do you get the inspiration?'' She looked over at George.
''Don't look at me dear, it's all Fred. I'm all potions, and he's all ideas. He's got a muse, or so he says,'' answered George with a knowing smile and a wink.
''Really, Fred?'' Hermione smiled over at him, suddenly all confident. ''Who's the lucky lady? Or guy?''
Fred chuckled. ''You know I don't swing that way, but it's no one you know.''
She could notice the blush spreading on his cheeks. She found him to be the cutest when he was shy. It never happened, and she was proud she could make a Weasley twin react differently from their usual bravo front.
After all, Hermione Granger wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She indeed, was brilliant. Brilliant enough to understand that her needs seemed to be always filled by a Weasley product.
It all started while they were both at Hogwarts. She started by noticing the glances between the twins every time she spoke. Then the subtle glances in her direction in the Great Hall at diner.
But then, there was the potion for the Yule Bal, and the entire shelf of beauty product of witched with all type of hair, but more particularly incredibly curly hair.
At first, she didn't want to believe that it was about her. What kind of person makes everything about themselves? Sure, it was easy to fantasize that her Fred at taken in interest in her, enough to create all of this. But it was just that, a fantasy.
After all, Ron and her had settled for a solid friendship after the war, knowing they have shared too much to start anew with a relationship. They needed some time apart from each other. And so Hermione started working for the twins.
It did her good, in all honesty. After 4 years of working for the Ministry and not having a second to herself, to engage in a new environment with such creative friends, was a breath of fresh air.
One day she decided she should at least test out her theory. And somehow, George bugged her enough to know about it, and pushed her to test it.
She dropped the sentence somewhere in a conversation with him.
''I feel so cold and lonely sometimes at night, you know?''
With that sentence, she was actually aiming for two things. First, she was testing if she was, indeed, the muse to Fred's ideas. And second, she was trying to flirt with him. She would have to wait for the first one. The second was her biggest failure since her first transfiguration exam.
She waited two weeks. She was stocking the shelves with Fred. They had just created another amazing product: a blanket that would warm you up, and make you feel like you were cuddling someone.
And that's when she knew he had fallen into her trap. She had to take in a deep breath to stop herself from giggling.
Fred cared about her, somehow.
George wouldn't let it slip.
Every time they were alone, he would encourage her.
''Just ask him out, by Merlin's saggy pants. You faced an Voldemort and survived. What could be worse?''
She sighed. ''I know, I know, '' she sighed. ''I'm just, not sure.''
George rolled his eyes.
''Well I am,'' he answered.
''Very well, '' she stated. ''How come he hasn't done anything then, Georgie?'' She replied, her hand on her hips, her brow raised in waiting. ''Because my guess is, you must be having the same conversation with him, am I right?''
Once again, George was dumbtruck by her replies. She waited for his answer. And when came none, she sighed and continued to work. He sighed too, these two would be the death of him. They were head over heels for each other, and neither made a move.
And that's when George stepped in, with his very first invention since the imitation of the invisibility cloak: the truth cabinet.
And so, on one rainy day, George managed to lock both Hermione and Fred inside it. Once that was done, he sprayed truth serum inside it.
The cabinet would only open when truth was spoken. And so he hid under one of his cape, ready to spend the night.
It took them 10 minutes to get out.
George knew that they knew it was his work, but they didn't know he was there.
He was just glad they were holding hands, all smiling and looking at each other.
About time.
He did his best not to dance under the cloak. It would have given away his presence, and Hermione Granger wasn't call the brightest with of her age for nothing, surely she would notice his presence.