a/n: This story takes some liberties with the timeline, assuming that the twins remained at Hogwarts at least partway through their seventh year. Also, I've decided to ignore Fred's death in DH. Also, I don't own any of these characters, and am grateful to the author for their use.

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At her breakfast table this morning, Hermione had contemplated the owl-delivered message in her hand, momentarily oblivious to the tawny owl perched on the back of her chair awaiting her response. She'd chewed her bottom lip pensively for a moment, then reached for a quill and scrawled a brief note at the bottom of the page, before rolling the scroll back up and reattaching it to the owl, offering him a drink from her water glass, and sending him on his way.

Now, standing before her closet in a bra and slip, Hermione picked up the note from her bed and examined it again, looking for clues:

"Masters F. and G. Weasley," the note had read, "humbly request that Mistress Hermione Granger do them the great honor of consenting to dine with them this evening, the 9th of September. If Miss Granger is amenable, we would ask her to advise us by return owl of an acceptable time at which to arrive by Floo and escort her.

"Signed, your servants,

"Fred & George"

Under this formal missive, printed in shimmering purple ink on a light green paper, was Hermione's handwritten addition:

"7pm."

The owl had returned again as she was dressing for work, with the same re-rolled scroll. Either Fred or George had added a note under hers:

"Wear a dress. –F&G."

Well, what in the world did that mean? Hermione dropped the note back onto her bed for the third time, shaking her head. She'd assumed at first that this over-the-top invitation was simply their way of proposing what she expected to be a casual dinner with drinks among friends. The dress angle, though, added a whole new level of complexity. Knowing the Weasley twins for as long as she had, Hermione was skeptical enough of any instructions from them; nevertheless, she surveyed the few dresses in her closet as she waited for her hair to dry. The time was 6:30pm, and she had no idea what to expect.

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By 7:30, she was seated across a small table from the twins, in a quiet Muggle fine dining establishment with subdued lighting and an excellent wine selection. She'd been surprised when they arrived perfectly on time, and suitably attired for an excursion into Muggle London. Both men wore casual suits, Fred's charcoal grey with a purple shirt, George in black with green checkered tie. Hermione herself wore a black dress she'd selected at approximately 6:55, and which she deemed appropriate for nearly any level of formality. Arriving at her flat, Fred and George had taken charge, ignoring her questions, managing the non-magical transportation without a hitch, and breezing past the restaurant's maître d' with a wave – apparently they'd taken her response for granted and made a reservation. Hermione was often amazed at how efficient the twins could be when they wanted to accomplish something – a trait she'd had occasion to resent as a House Prefect, she thought, recalling their superbly-orchestrated war against Dolores Umbridge with a smile.

"And what are you grinning about, may we ask?" George twirled his wine glass as he regarded her over the luxuriously-appointed table.

"Oh, just recalling old times," she responded, raising an eyebrow and smirking at them. She knew they couldn't tolerate being left in the dark.

"Any times in particular?" Fred returned her teasing smile, with some meaningful eye contact added for good measure.

Hermione felt a drop in her stomach – she'd been thinking of the twins' various schemes at Hogwarts, but she knew immediately that Fred was referring to an entirely different occasion. It was one she remembered with clarity, although she hadn't brought out that memory in quite some time…

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Hermione ran down the darkened, deserted hall, away from Ron and that ridiculous Lavender. Also away from Harry, whose well-meant but helpless attempts to comfort her had grown exasperating. After thoroughly embarrassing herself with the attacking bird incident, she thought a walk alone might clear her head of the jumbled thoughts that filled it every time she saw Ron.

Away from him, she was – as always – mystified by the warm feeling she felt for him. Was it attraction? Affection? Hermione had little experience with such matters, and found that it was difficult to tell the difference; years of friendship had obscured any clear intuition about what relationship she really wanted with the red-haired boy.

Hermione paced restlessly along the dark corridor, muttering to herself, talking through the problem with herself as she often did. Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't even look up until she collided roughly with a taller body, falling back upon her rear on the stone floor.

"Oy, Hermione!" Looking up, she found herself staring into the gleaming eyes of Fred – she was fairly sure it was Fred – Weasley, who was standing directly in her path along with his brother. He stretched out a hand and pulled her off the floor.

"Something on your mind?" George raised an eyebrow knowingly, making Hermione wonder how much of her disjointed mumblings the twins had been privy to. She looked from one lanky boy to the other.

"George, I believe our Hermione is having boy troubles," Fred speculated. Hermione opened her mouth to deny his charge, but found she was unable to get a word in edgewise, as was often the case with the twins.

"Surely not pining over our dolt of a little brother?" George queried. She clamped her mouth shut, in hopes of revealing as little as possible to the two Hogwarts students most likely to tease her over her infatuation, but felt her hot cheeks giving her away as she looked down at her sneakers.

"Because that would be rather foolish, Hermione," Fred continued, in an unexpectedly soft voice. Chancing a quick look up at him, Hermione was astonished to find him standing just a few inches away from her, watching her with a rare expression of seriousness on his face. She felt her fear of being made fun of dissipate under his steady, if rather unreadable, gaze.

She tilted her chin upward at Fred, as if daring him to explain why he thought her foolish. He held her eyes, but the response came from behind her, where she was suddenly aware that George was now standing, also close enough that she could feel his body heat.

"We're still not sure what you see in him, of course-" George's breath played upon her neck as she twisted her head around to see him.

"The scrawny build-" Fred again, now lightly holding her upper arm, keeping her from turning very far.

"The mediocre Quidditch skills-" George's right hand rested itself softly on her hip, pulling her back against him until their bodies touched slightly.

"The poor performance in school-" Fred also moved closer, so that she was gently, but very effectively, pinned between the two Gryffindor beaters, now discovered to be surprisingly muscular for their height.

"But if it's tall, academically-disinclined Quidditch players you're interested in-" George brushed her long hair away from her neck, sending a tingling sensation straight to her core in a way that Ron's friendly, occasional touches never had.

"We can think of not one, but two much better candidates for your affections," finished Fred, finally ending the sensory tug-of-war the two brothers were creating in her body by leaning forward to kiss her briefly on her shocked, open lips. At the same time, George's lips touched her neck just once before he backed away, joined by his twin. Hermione gasped, as much at the sudden loss of contact as at the actions preceding it.

"Fred and I've talked about it, and we won't bring it up again," said George. "We just wanted you to know."

"In case you come to your senses about dear ickle Ronnie anytime in the near future," added Fred, with a smirk.

Hermione nodded, not sure she could find the air to speak. She remained standing in place until the brothers had faded from view, then allowed herself to collapse into a convenient niche in the wall. She hadn't spoken a word, and the encounter had lasted less than a minute.

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…As Hermione regained her sense of awareness, the first thing she noticed was that Fred and George were both watching her intently, so intently that she was convinced Fred had dropped that hint deliberately. She was suddenly acutely conscious of her body: her neck and chest white against the black dress; her pulse racing, visible at her throat; her body trembling and hot. Hoping to cover her flustering, she picked up her wine glass and drained it; Fred instantly moved to refill it.

"I told you she remembered, you git," said Fred, glancing at his twin. George nodded his head in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes on Hermione.

"What do you mean?" Hermione's voice was throaty after the wine she'd just consumed far too quickly.

"See, Hermione, George and I-" Fred broke off with another look at George, who, for the first time ever, hadn't already started to complete his sentence. George was studying Hermione, and it took a moment for Fred's pause to register.

"I guess you know we had a bit of a falling out a few weeks ago," George started. Hermione inclined her head in agreement; it had been an extremely uncomfortable time for all who knew the Weasleys, as it represented the first and only serious divergence between the twins. "Well, it was over a girl," George said. He looked down at his wineglass, found it empty, refilled it and drank deeply.

"A girl we were both… interested in," added Fred. "We had a row over who would get to make a move first-"

"But we couldn't seem to reach a compromise," said George.

"But you two have dealt with that problem before," interjected Hermione. "I remember when I was a fourth-year, you both had a crush on Katie Bell, but you worked it out somehow, right?"

"Sure, it's come up, but I guess neither one of us felt very strongly about the girl in question before, so we just flipped a coin or something," Fred answered.

"You flipped a coin?" Hermione was prepared to contest the notion of basing romantic relationships on a coin toss, but her comment fell on deaf ears as Fred and George concentrated on finishing their explanation of whatever it was they were trying to explain.

"This time," George went on, "it was like neither of us could give in, so we kept arguing, and then we didn't talk for awhile." The brothers exchanged slightly ashamed expressions at the memory.

"And then Bill sent us a Howler advising us that as we were both expected to attend Fleur's birthday dinner, we'd better just sort it out before then, or else." Fred grinned wryly. "So we worked out a solution, we think." He exchanged another look with his brother, this one less clear in its meaning.

Hermione rolled her eyes, impatient with all the significant glances, especially as the twins normally appeared to communicate by pure telepathy. "And?"

"And we've decided it would be best if we both pursued... this girl," George concluded.

"You mean you're going to let her decide who to date instead of, say, rolling a die or something?"

"Nope," replied Fred, ignoring her sarcasm entirely. "We're going to pursue her together." As she took in his meaning, he added with a grin, "We just hope she can handle dating both of us at once."

"We realize it's a daunting proposition, but we think this particular girl can manage it," agreed George.

"Well, that's an… interesting approach," said Hermione after a pause. "Be sure to let me know how it works out, won't you? Right," she added, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice, "so, what's with all the looks?"

"Er, Hermione?" Fred looked at his brother, sheepishly this time. "It's you."