A/N: If angst isn't your thing you should probably turn back now. I've done my best to keep the twins in character, but since they are shown as more of a persona than actual people in the novels, that is a hard thing to do. No one can be lighthearted and funny all the time. Everyone get's angry, everyone yells, and everyone falls in love.

I'm sure the twins do too, or would. Just know that it's only going to get worse further on.

This will eventually be a Fred/George/Hermione story, but I can't guarantee it will end happily.

Obviously this is AU, since Fred didn't die.

Hope you enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: (insert typical disclaimer text here)


Hermione closed the door to her apartment with a swift kick of her foot, throwing her bag uselessly into a corner before practically launching herself onto the couch. Her fingers already fumbling for the drawers of her end table.

She had been waiting all day for this. Hermione knew it wasn't healthy, but it seemed it was all she ever looked forward to anymore. Still, as she groped around in the mostly empty drawer she realized that she would have to confront her problem sooner than she ever planned to.

She only had 4 of the beautiful little charms left, she would have to go back to buy more soon. Then it would be inevitable. They would want to have 'the talk' with her. She had barely avoided sitting through the whole spiel last time around. Being fortunate enough to stop by when they were busy, she had placed her unreasonably large order with Verity who had the good grace to be too blonde to suspect that there was anything off with her purchase.

Still, she knew they would have figured it out by now. They tracked her purchases very closely now-a-days. Not to mention it had hardly been a month. To have gone through so many in so little time...

Hermione knew it was bad. She just couldn't bring herself to stop. Every attempt at weening herself off or going cold turkey had been met with speedy relapse. It was just too hard to live without them right now. One would think that someone who had lived a life as trying as her own would be a smidgen better at dealing with loss. Yet...here she was.

Could I be more pathetic?

Pushing her shame away with a rough shove of resignation, Hermione popped out one of the four remaining charms. 3 left. She had gone through more than that in a single night before...but she would have to ration them now. Who knew when she would be able to get her hands on another set.

Probably not.

Grasping the little pink bobble in her hand like a lifeline, Hermione lay back on the couch and allowed herself a moment of self-loathing before she murmured the quiet incantation. The wonderful haze of the daydream charm immediately engulfed her and she slipped into the easy familiarity of her fantasies.


Despite Hermione's attempts to ration and abstain, the remaining charms hadn't even held for a week...and so here she stood – outside a shop that could turn even the most determined scrooge into a lighthearted prankster – feeling like she was about to willingly walk to her doom.

There's no other choice, Hermione chastised her own panicked mind. I have to go in. The twins had stopped responding to her owl orders weeks ago.

Unsurprisingly she didn't get more than 5 feet into the shop before the twins caught up with her. Two identical looks of disapproval etched into their typically friendly faces.

"Please, tell me you stopped by just to see our smiling faces?"

Dammit. She forced an awkward laugh and tried her best to look innocent and calm. As if she weren't desperate to get her hands on the large pile of daydream charms that were almost within her reach. The pull was almost tangible, and she was having a hard time focusing enough to weave a convincing lie.

"I'm actually in a bit of a rush at the moment, you know, busy schedule...Owl me later? It's been ages, we should really get together for dinner soon...lunch if you aren't too swamped –"

Urg. Stop rambling.

"We can go out to Hogsmeade or something, it really has been a while. There is so much to catch up on. I mean, I'd love to stay and chat b –"

"Just stop it." Hermione cringed. So far this had gone exactly how she feared it would, and surely it was going to get much worse before it ever got better. Despite their general cheeriness, the twins could be pretty volatile when provoked. Hermione had once joked that their temper just as chaotic and destructive as their pranks and she really wasn't eager to be on the receiving end of it. George still seemed composed enough, but it was clear that Fred was full to bursting with barely contained anger. It had been ages since Hermione had heard the twins raise their voices. To be specific, it had been since she and George broke up almost six months ago. Of course, she hadn't heard much from them at all since then.

It wasn't exactly a fond memory.

She saw George look around nervously to see if they were attracting attention, but it was so loud in the shop that the most they received was a curious glance or two.

"I'm, I'm sorry." Hermione had meant it to sound like a question, but perhaps there was a bit too much truth to the sentiment. She could feel moisture building up behind her eyes and she lowered her gaze to the floor.

She felt a gentle hand on her arm, that would be George, leading her to the privacy of the storeroom. He mumbled something to Verity as they passed the counter and Hermione held her breath as the heavy door slammed behind them, sealing out the cheerful noises of the customers.

A gentle hand pressed up on her chin and Hermione raised her eyes just enough to see their faces, but found that looking directly at them seemed suddenly beyond her.

"You need to explain. What exactly w– " Fred's voice cut off sharply as George sent him an angry look.

"It's nothing."

Just believe me. Please just believe me and let me go. I don't need the charms, I just need to get out of here. Please just let me go.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Well, you certainly don't look it!" Fred snapped back at her, Hermione caught herself flinching at the tone of his voice.

It was true, she looked a mess. Hermione knew that her typically put-together appearance had suffered under her addiction these past few months. Her normally crisp, tucked in blouses and pencil skirts had been replaced by frumpy dress pants and jumpers. Attire fit for ministry work, but not even close to her usual standards. Hermione raised a self-conscious hand to her hair, tangled mass of frizz that it was. She used to spend ages straitening it or at lest de-frizzing the curls back when she and George were together.

How must she look to them now?

Like a wreck no doubt.

"Fred stop! ...You're not helping."

Honestly Hermione understood Fred's anger better than George's calm. After she left he had written her several letters – tried his best to be there for her as a friend – and what had she given him in return? Nothing. Nothing but a pitiful explanation and more unanswered questions. By all rights he should be just as furious at her as Fred clearly was.

"We're just worried about you Hermione. You look...well, you don't look like yourself. Hank at Flourish and Blotts said you hadn't been by in months, and well...I can't remember the last time you came to dinner at the Burrow.

Somehow I think Molly's invitation expired when I broke her son's heart.

"I've been –"

"Busy. We know." Great, they were in full twin-speak mode now. It was strange how something that usually brought such a wide smile to her face could turn horrifying when used against her.

The door was calling to her. She could make a run for it, though they would be on her in seconds; apparating was out of the question too, unless she fancied a good-old-fashioned, early morning splinching.

"Hermione...you know what this is about. It's not healthy, let us help you."

Hermione could feel her defenses activating, the room seemed to shrink and the air was thick and hot. She couldn't talk about this, not yet, she wasn't ready. Admitting her addiction to herself was one thing, but having an intervention with Fred and George was something else entirely. "Why do you even care?" She spat in a voice filled with so much spite and resentment that she could hardly believe it had come from her own mouth. That had to be the addiction speaking, this person wasn't her. Fred and George were just trying to help...there was no reason to attack them like this.

"Just because you stopped caring about us, Hermione, doesn't mean we stopped caring about you."

It was the sort of gentle, heartfelt sentiment that one normally expected to hear from George, not Fred. In fact, Hermione could swear that even Fred looked a little surprised at himself.

"It wasn't like that," she hurried to disagree, "it's just..." impossible, disgusting, humiliating. "..complicated." She finished lamely.

The look on twin's faces was unreadable. She had never seen them look so...lost.. before.

"Is this because of th – er – because of what you said when we broke up?" George ventured. His voice made up of equal parts apprehension and genuine curiosity.

Hermione saw Fred shoot an accusing look at his brother. Clearly he had not been privy to the finer details of their relationship drama.

Shite. .

"I, um, sort of? Not really..." Identical brows furrowed simultaneously, and she saw Fred's fists clench by his side.

Liar. After all they've done for you! Can't you even manage the truth?

"Yes..." she finally acquiesced. Allowing herself to lean uncomfortably against the wall behind her, a shelf full of discarded joke products digging uncomfortably into her back.

This was it. There was definitely no backing out now. The twins wouldn't rest until they had dragged the truth from her trembling, chapped lips.

"Care to fill me in?" Fred snapped, breaking harshly through the heavy silence that had begun to form in the wake of her admission.

Though to Hermione's surprise George's voice had also begun to sound strained, and she could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he digested her words.

"You still should have said something. I...we.. would have helped you. You can't just bottle things up like that" Then after a frustrated pause. "...Merlin what an idiot."

"I know, I've been stupid –"

"I'm not talking about you." He cut her off gently, though he still seemed upset. "I'm talking about him. If he didn't...If you didn't...oh Circe's tits." George dragged an unsteady hand through his hair. "You could have come back, you could have confided in me, I –"

"George, no, you don't understand -"

"Neither do I!" Fred interrupted suddenly, looking between the two of them with a thoroughly vexed expression. "Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!?"


She had lied...but she couldn't tell them that. It hadn't been a real lie anyways. She had merely manipulated the truth, told him what she thought he would need to hear in order to let her go.

The distraught look on his face still haunted her. She had expected him to yell, to demand answers, to be out for blood. She hadn't expected him to become so pale, she hadn't expected him to profess his love for her, to beg her to stay.

She hadn't expected him to cry.

It had been so hard to leave him like that, but it was for his own good. She had known even then.

Hermione loved George. She had never stopped loving him.

But she had to leave. She had known that for months before she acted on it, laboring under the hope that it would pass. That things could return to normal.

The three of them had been brewing potions together in this very room when she made her final decision. Working together on a mostly harmless explosive that the twins used in a large portion of their products.

All she did was knock over some dragon's blood.

Fred had reacted quickly. Leaning across her to deftly catch the vial that threatened to ruin their potion. The whole incident couldn't have taken more than ten seconds, but Hermione found herself practically panting as he pulled away. The urge to hold him there almost overwhelming her. His lips had been so close, so inviting...

Gods, she was a disgusting human being...

It had been such an innocent gesture, but it had been the end of their relationship. She loved George, she couldn't stay with him while she was secretly lusting after his twin.

She packed her things that evening. Feeding George a half truth: that she had feelings for someone else. It wasn't easy, but she let him believe she didn't love him anymore – although she couldn't bring herself to actually say it.

So she left, got herself a flat...and swore to herself that they would be better off without her.

Her conviction didn't last long. Fred had given her a package of Wonder Witch products ages ago...before she and George had even seemed like a remote possibility.

Once she remembered them she hadn't held out very long.

The daydream charms had seemed to call to her, promising her some respite, however brief.

That night, not yet a month after leaving, she had surrendered. Hermione Granger lost herself as she lay sprawled across her new couch, oblivious to reality, welcomed home by two pairs of strong arms.


She had been avoiding the both of them ever since.

The mortified expression on her face apparently told George all he needed to know. He sobered immediately, whatever righteous anger that had been building evaporated instantly.

"Shite! I never thought..." He seemed frustrated with himself. "I mean, you said there was someone else and I just assumed."

"Wait.." Fred seemed to be catching on quite quickly now, "You left my brother for another man?"

"No, you don't understand –" she began again, suddenly desperate to reveal what had been her darkest secret for so long.

"Of course I understand. I have quite a bit of experience with unrequited love after all" The raw tone in George's voice cut her to the quick. Surely he had moved on by now. He had to have done.

Although his eyes told her it wasn't bloody likely.

"It wasn't like that, please listen to me..."

"No! Whoever he is, he isn't worth ruining your life over. That's what you've been using all the charms for isn't it...to be with him?" It wasn't an accusation, Hermione almost wished it were. Wished it didn't sound so much like empathy.

"George, no. You have the wrong idea..."

"Why don't you explain then?" Fred's tone seemed to be loosing it's fire now too, though it still had it's bite. "Why don't you explain again how you left my brother for some bloke who didn't even want you."

"I lied." she blurted, before her Gryffindor bravery had a chance to desert her, continuing quickly as she saw their expression contorting into something that went beyond any anger she had seen from them thus far. "I didn't leave you for someone else, I left you because of someone else." The words had begun rushing out of her in an almost unintelligible string of syllables. She had to make them understand. "I left you because you deserved better than some bint who couldn't even love you properly.."

Hermione felt the distinct urge to vomit as she opened her mouth to spill the rest. Not that there was really any going back now.

"He doesn't even know...I – I never told him."

George took a step towards her, and the urge to turn and flee surged strongly through her. So took a quick step towards the door and George stopped his approach. A lost look marring his features. This was all so wrong. Hermione hadn't left so that he could look at her like that. She left so that he could move on, so that he could be happy.

"Does that mean you still – Oi! "

Fred stepped abruptly between them, his gaze darting back and forth. Simultaneously pushing his brother back while grabbing Hermione's wrist with a roughness she had never felt from him before. "No, you can't just play with us like that. Do you have any idea what it was like for us after you left?"

"Who is he?" Hermione looked up to see George's face peering around the barrier that Fred had constructed between them.

Despite the fact that she had already resolved to tell the whole truth, the actual words stuck stubbornly in her throat.

"Does it bloody matter?" Fred interjected quite rudely.

"It's him..." She finally whispered. Nodding her head almost imperceptibly towards the back of Fred's head. She saw realization, understanding, and eventually horror slowly spread across George's face, and tried desperately to pull her hand from Fred's crushing grip, wanting to be long gone before the news had a chance to sink in.

"Who is he?" Fred stupidly repeated George's question, looking genuinely confused, though Hermione thought perhaps he was being intentionally thick.

"Fred, let her go. She meant you. It's you."

Hermione stumbled backwards as Fred's grip went slack, whether from disbelief or on George's orders it was hard to tell. Her hands shot to her mouth reflexively as if she could somehow take it all back. As if something like that could ever be un-said.

"Oh God, I'm sick...I'm just...sick." A dry heave rose in her throat and she spun on a dime, not giving a damn anymore what parts she might leave behind. Eager to get out before she had to see the twin looks of disgust that were surely aimed her way.


AUTHOR'S NOTE V.2 : I already have most of this fic finished, though I am editing as I go along.

Obviously I don't have a beta yet, so please don't hesitate to point out any mistakes you may see. Also feel free to give your opinion on where you want this to go. As I said, almost all of this is already written, but there are certain parts that I have left deliberately vague, or that I haven't filled out yet.

So there is still room for your reviews to matter.. to something other than my ego, I mean.