The musty smell of mold and dust greeted Hermione as she walked into the living room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
"Ah, good, Hermione, you've finished getting dressed! Now we can start!" Mrs. Weasley said hurriedly.
It was a glorious summer day, and from the dusty windows Hermione could see a foggy image of happy children playing outside in the sunshine and warm weather. But not Hermione and the Weasley children. No, on this beautiful day they were stuck inside cleaning Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Okay, now that we've waited long enough, let's get cracking." Fred said, "George and I will start the kitchen and Ron, Ginny, and Hermione can clean whatever the heck they want." Fred and George started to walk out the door when Mrs. Weasley stopped them.
"NOT…so fast, you two. You definitely won't be working together." Mrs. Weasley commanded. Ron laughed. "After what happened last time…." Fred and George had 'accidently' set the curtains on fire.
"Nice." George said, giving Fred a high five. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You got a problem with that, Granger?" Fred whispered.
"I just don't see why you two can't do things without starting trouble. Things would be so much easier." She sighed.
"And that's why we're more popular than you." George said.
"And that's why we can get girls and you can't get guys." Fred added.
"Oh, I would rethink that one, Fred Weasley. Didn't Angelina Johnson break up with you at the end of the school year because you were too immature?" Hermione retorted.
"Ooh, ouch. You're gonna need something good to top that one, Fred." George laughed.
Fred didn't really know what to say. That was true. Angelina and Fred were definitely still friends, but she said that was the problem. Their relationship was too friendly and comical, and there was no seriousness and passion.
"Yeah, well, you've been invited to spend the summer with Ron and nothings happened between you two." Fred said nervously. "Boom! Roasted!"
George's smile turned to a frown. "Oh, sorry, mate…that was, that was…bad."
But the effect seemed different on Hermione. Her cheeks turned red and she stuttered, "What, what are you talking about? Ron invited me because we're friends!"
"Then why isn't Harry here?"
"Because Dumbledore said he had to stay at Little Whinging for a while!" She retorted.
"You just keep telling yourself that, Hermione." Fred laughed.
Hermione bit her lip, and turned away from Fred and George.
"Alright, Fred, you will work with…" Mrs. Weasley started.
"George."
"Heavens no!"
"Ginny? Or even Ron?" He pleaded.
"Hermione."
"No!" Fred and Hermione yelled.
"I mean, we're friends and all, but our working styles definitely clash." Fred explained, and Hermione nodded.
"I invited Hermione! Why can't I work with her?" Ron whined.
"Oh, put a sock in it, Ron." George groaned.
"And you will be working with Ron, George." Mrs. Weasley ordered.
"Oh, God." Ron moaned.
"Yes! My next choice! Up top, Ron!" George said, giving Ron a high five.
Ginny giggled. "Can I work with them too, Mum? This group looks like it's gonna be more interesting."
"Oh, I beg to differ." Hermione said under her breath.
"No, Ginny, you will be working with me." Mrs. Weasley said.
"Aww, Mum…"
"Yes, now George and Ron, second bedroom on the left. Hermione and Fred, first bedroom on the third floor. Now go!"
Fred opened the door to the bedroom and coughed. "Oh, blimey, this is dusty." He wheezed. Hermione explored around the room.
"Ah!" She said suddenly and jumped backwards.
"What?"
"I stepped on a dead rat."
"Seriously?" He laughed, and walked over and picked it up by the tail. "It's dead; it's not going to harm you."
"But it's still gross!" Hermione whined.
"Oh look, Hermione's afrwaid of a wittle dead rat." Fred cooed, swinging the rat back and forth.
"I'd wish you'd not talk to me in that tone." Hermione sighed. "And I wish you'd drop that rat, it's disgusting."
"Does it bother you?" He said with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, just, wash your hands!" She commanded pushing him out the room, as Fred laughed.
"Here are the rules." George told Ron. "I'm in charge, and what I say goes."
"I thought it's always been like that." Ron asked, mildly surprised.
"I guess it has." George said after he thought for a moment.
"Let's get this over with. Me and Hermione wanna have some fun today." Ron grumbled.
"Oh, I bet you do." George said darkly.
"Um, yeah, we do." Ron said, confused. "We were going to hang outside, it's so nice out."
"Oh, I bet you'll hang outside."
"Would you stop that? It's creeping me out!" Ron yelled, still unaware of the point George was trying to make.
"I'll the left, you'll clean the right." Hermione said.
"And we'll meet in the middle and clean together." Fred said happily.
"No, the point is once we're in the middle we'll be done."
"Well, I like to work wherever I feel, and eventually the whole room will be cleaned."
"Yes, eventually it will be cleaned, about four hours longer than it would take if you had just followed the plan I had." Hermione said impatiently.
"I can't work like that. Everything just has to be spontaneous with me."
"Well, I like everything to be planned." Hermione said. "So, we'll compromise. I'll work on the left, and you can work wherever you'd like." Hermione turned and walked over to her side.
"And where I'd like to work is next to you." Fred said, grinning.
"Come off it, Fred." Hermione said, clearly annoyed.
"C'mon, Hermione! Two hands are better that one. If we work together instead of taking separate sides, we'll be done faster."
Hermione thought for a moment, sighed, and said, "Go get me the broom." Fred smiled.
"And then when he turned around, I shot it at his head." George finished, and Ron laughed.
"Wow, that's brilliant." Ron said in awe.
"I try, I try." George said none too modestly.
George and Ron's cleaning day had been going fine. They had gone through everything quickly because they were having fun talking, laughing, and sharing stories, and it went by fast because they were not putting effort in their cleaning.
"Hey, look!" George said suddenly, "There's a Sickle on the ground in the wardrobe!"
Ron dropped the broom he was holding and quickly sped towards the wardrobe before George had even put down his duster. He ran inside it, and leaned down to pick the shiny silver Sickle up.
"Ha Ha!" He cheered triumphantly as he held it in his hand, but the joke was on Ron, because George slammed the wardrobe door shut and hastily locked it.
"What!? George! George, stop! Let me out! Let me out!"
But George merely laughed loudly as he walked out the room, his last words to Ron being, "Best Sickle I ever spent."