A/N: Not DH compliant in the fact that Fred is alive.
The sun peeked out from behind the half-drawn curtain and crept along the wood floors to the large bed in the centre of the turquoise wall. The only person in the room was laying prone, breathing deeply and slowly, wakefulness only just starting to seep into the edges of his dreams.
George Weasley sighed and rolled over, dragging his arm over his head and intending to bask in the wonderful sleepiness of Sunday mornings. Laziness and languid movements were halted abruptly, however, when he rolled into a patch of unexpected sunshine and blinded himself brutally. With a grunt, the sheets were pulled up over his half-naked form and he settled in for another snooze, gently ruffling the linen with his even breathing once more.
"Georgie-boy! Wake-y wake-y!" Fred exclaimed, starling his twin out of his mid-morning nap not five minutes after the sun had conspired against him.
"Mmnph."
Fred stood in the now open doorway and put his hands on his hips. "What sort of a tone is that to use with me, dear brother?"
"A fitting one. Go away. Sleeping." Fred rolled his eyes. "I don't think so. It's nine-forty-seven and I've been up since six getting ready for the new shipment." Fred crossed the room and drew the curtains open completely, flooding every corner of the room with summer sun.
"Not because you needed to be!" George threw back the sheets and squinted up at his brother grumpily.
"You're right; I'm just excited. And so are you, obviously. Get a move on."
George dropped his head back onto the pillow behind him dejectedly, not bothering to disguise his typical morning half-mast with a flush of the sheet.
He was never going to get back to sleep now.
Half an hour later, George was strutting out of his room in his favourite pair of jeans and pulling an old Quidditch jersey over his head. He ruffled his damp hair a bit before pouring himself some coffee and wandering over to the front window that overlooked Diagon Alley above the shop. Steam from his hot shower followed him around into the living room where he found the Daily Prophet, already riffled through, on the large brown couch. Sitting, George could hear Fred banging around downstairs, talking to himself and swearing occasionally.
The twins only opened the shop for a few hours on Sundays in the summer. For whatever reason, they didn't get much business at all. Of course, it wasn't just the obnoxiously purple building; it was all of Diagon Alley. Perhaps the magical world was not progressing quite as quickly into the realm of 24/7 availability, but the Weasley brothers had found that they much preferred having the day off anyhow. During the school year, however, they didn't open at all. Today they would probably be open from around one to almost five, but no later.
As usual, it was family dinner at the Burrow tonight. Now that Ginny had finally graduated and all the Weasley siblings were out in the real world and employed, it was always nice having a weekly get-together and catch up. They were quite the bunch, the lot of them.
"George!" Fred called from downstairs.
George sighed.
"Hold your horses!" he replied loudly. He stood and dropped the paper back in the couch to finish later on this afternoon. On his way down the hall to the stairs he dropped his mug into the sink and grabbed a muffin off the plate that Mrs. Weasley had sent home with them earlier in the week.
"GEORGE!" came a sharp snap. "Get your arse down here!"
The redhead growled and stuffed the entire delicious cake into his mouth thumped down the stairs quickly.
"I said I was coming, you berk. You didn't need to-" George stopped short as he rounded the corner and saw what Fred had been harping on about. "Woah."
The shipment he'd been talking about must have just gotten in. There was a massive stack of crates along the wall in the backroom and Fred had cracked one open to see what was inside. He had discarded the pry bar off to the side and was digging through the packing shred to pull out the multiple bags of the most peculiarly coloured seed pods.
They were sort of almond shaped, but about the size of a dinner plate. The rough fibres on the outside were a cross between striated bark and what one might consider mammoth wool; coarse and wiry. For magical items, they really were extraordinary because they didn't puff smoke or make noise or move and wiggle. However their colour was a dark redish-blueish-purple. Of a sort. It was too blue to be called magenta, too red to be called purple and too violet to be called indigo. And for fibrous hair on the outside, it was oddly metallic-looking.
George was immediately beside Fred, reaching for his own bag to examine up close. Fred was just sitting and staring at his bag cross legged on the concrete.
"What?" George asked him as he pulled the zip open of the plastic bag to get a whiff of the strange ingredient.
"I can't figure it," Fred stated. "How does it look like that?"
"Yeah it is a bit weird. But it doesn't smell bad," replied George, sticking his nose in the bag once more and drawing in a deeper breath.
"I'll take your word for it. I just want to look at it some more. I wonder what it does in sunlight?"
And Fred was gone, out into the shop and up at the front window, holding the bag of exotic merchandise out in the sun streaming through the display window.
George fished one of the seed pods out of the bag in his lap gingerly. It was rough on the outside, much more so than it appeared. It sort of grated like steel wool over the pads of his fingers, and so he placed it back in the bag gently.
"I'll send the ministry the confirmation of the delivery. Can't keep them waiting, can we?" George picked himself up and quickly dashed off a note to the Control of Dangerous and Restricted Goods office, a branch of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
"These puppies came a long way, didn't they?" Fred asked from the front room, turning his bag over in the sunlight.
"All the way from Tanzania." "What are they called again?" he pressed. "Kamadorea Pods," George answered, opening one of the windows for their business owl, Eve, so she could take the letter to the magical law-minders. She took off with a fierce squeeze and a slight pinch to his forearm and was soon far off in the distance over the magical community. "Now that they're here, I'm going to go back upstairs and finish the paper. Call if you need me." Fred dismissed him casually with a wave of the hand, mesmerized by the pods. He was now rolling them in their bag on the floor, crunching the tough outer shell on the floorboards.
George went about upstairs, picking up dishes and pushing papers into piles for the recycling. After he finished tidying, he lounged on the couch with a book. This would have been weird in school, seeing a Weasley twin making the effort to learn anything assigned, but being out of school for three years now, George liked to learn about whatever he was interested in. Of course, it usually had to do with something for the shop or an experiment or one of their crazy ideas.
All in all, the day was good. Fred stayed downstairs and then left to go see someone who George presumed was a girl. A warm breeze passed through the empty store just as George was contemplating leaving for the Burrow. The windows were all propped open, with sunlight filtering through here and there between the buildings around WWW.
One kid had ambled in all afternoon, and was called promptly back outside by his mother who looked like she had left her mind at home. Bags of groceries and potion ingredients were hanging off her loaded arms and three young kids were screeching and running and hiding and she was a mess. The oldest of the four hopped out of the store quickly so as to not be scolded.
Snagging his wand from the counter beside him, George magically closed up shop as soon as the front door jingled closed behind the boy. The windows clicked shut, the door locked and the blinds all rolled down smoothly. As the dust settled, the twin bounded back up the stairs, excited for a little mayhem after a slow and boring day. The relaxation was good, as long as Fred wasn't around.
Time for chaos to ensue.
Hermione had dashed about all day getting her errands and her shopping done in Diagon Alley and the muggle supermarket by her flat. She ran through her end-of-week routine; making sure all the files she had done over the weekend were ready for Monday morning, complete with notes, she made sure she had the majority of the groceries for the week, she flirted with the boy at the library, and she did laundry.
She wiped up after herself in her little kitchen and trotted down the hall to her bedroom to find some clean clothes to wear to dinner at the Weasley's, which she was due to leave for in fifteen minutes.
Peeling her sweaty tank top over her head and leaving it in a pile with her capris on the tile floor of the bathroom, she had a quick shower to wash away the grime of the day. Her hands spread a light moisturizer over her skin quickly before she pulled on some cargo shorts and a lightweight French blue top. Slipping her feet into some sandals, Hermione pocketed her wand and tied her hair up into a ponytail and Disapparated on the spot.
Something just short of pandemonium greeted her when she appeared on the lawn of the Burrow about twenty paces from the front door. Hermione could hear Mrs. Weasley shouting inside the house, and she managed to show up just in time to see both Fred and George streak out the front door, cackling madly and taking off into the field opposite her. More shouting and Ginny walked out clutching her stomach as the porch screen swung shut behind her with a clatter.
As Hermione approached cautiously, Ginny slumped against the outside of the house and slid down to sit. She was red in the face and she was shaking with mirth with tears in her eyes.
"Ginny?"
"Oh, Hermione-" Ginny gasped, "you scared me." The girl giggled a bit more and then quieted down. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. How are you?" Hermione went up to Ginny and sat on the step at her feet.
"Just perfect. Enjoying summer now that I'm home. I think I just got a job at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes." The redhead smiled brightly, still pink in the cheeks.
"Oh, no. What did you do?" Hermione chuckled, waiting for the story.
"Just had a bit of fun at mum's expense. She's mad now, but she'll have a laugh later. I think dinner's almost ready; let's brave the house, shall we?" Ginny pulled herself up and offered a hand to Hermione, who was pulled to her feet after she took it.
"Hey, Hermione."
The twins had reappeared, strolling through the knee-high grass and into the garden at the corner of the house. Fred and George were both dressed quite similar, both sporting jeans.
George was wearing a quidditch jersey while Fred had a plain shirt and an open green button-up rolled up to his elbows.
"Hello, boys. I hear you've been up to no good."
"As usual, wouldn't you say?" Fred winked before hopping up the steps and disappearing again through the door.
"Would you really expect anything other than mischief? I'm hurt at the mere thought." George followed his brother through the door with a cheeky smile.
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Since neither of them have any chivalry, I'll get the door. After you," Ginny said, pushing Hermione through the doorway ungracefully. She stumbled right into George who clearly hadn't moved more than two steps after he came into the house.
"Oh, sorry-"
"No, it was Gin-"
"Budge up, why are we all still in the doorway? George, move!" Ginny snapped before happily pulling Hermione out into unoccupied space.
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed getting to his feet. "Feels like we haven't seen you in ages." The startlingly tall black-haired man allowed her to wrap her arms about his middle and gave her a squeeze around the shoulders for good measure.
"It's been a week, Harry. Not a month." Hermione rolled her eyes skyward.
"All the same."
Harry moved off and Mrs. Weasley was right behind him.
"Hermione, dear! It's good to see you. You're looking a little-"
"Mum, she's fine. Let her breathe," Ginny interjected.
"Well not to worry, dinner will be ready in a jiffy. Why don't you go let the others know, and by then I'll have everything on the table. Hmm?"
The Burrow was an amazing demonstration of magic; it would take nothing less to keep the building standing, for sure. Made of brick and mortar and wood, with repairs and extensions and fixes with whatever suited the job, the home had ended up a little lopsided and a lot eclectic. Nothing matched in this house at all, as a rule. Everything was worn from use. The large scrubbed table and chairs were the symbol she most related to family and friends, thanks to the Weasley's.
Also, the house was never quiet. There was always people coming and going. Between Arthur and Molly, seven kids kept them quite busy when they were younger, and it hadn't changed much now. Someone was always over for dinner or helping Molly with the garden or keeping her distracted so that Arthur could tinker with some new muggle contraption he had recently acquired. Ginny still lived here, as well as Ron. Harry had moved into
Grimmauld Place, but he spent most of his time here anyhow when he wasn't at work. Fred and George had their flat and their store, Percy lived with Penelope, his girlfriend from Hogwarts, and Bill lived with Fleur in a beautiful cottage by the ocean somewhere. Charlie, of course, was still in Romania with his dragons, and Hermione suspected that that wouldn't change anytime soon.
Everyone was here, though, no matter where or with whom they lived. Charlie was having an animated discussion with Ron and George, sporting a new half-healed burn on his arm. Bill was talking quietly with Mr. Weasley on the couch while Fleur trailed around after Molly making a nuisance of herself. Percy was sipping a drink and reading a book in the corner while Fred and Ginny were whispering about something secretively by the window, both grinning like maniacs.
A chorus of greetings were thrown out at the sight of Hermione, with a few waves here and there.
"Dinner's ready!"
George was happily chewing away at his roast potato and watching the family around him chatter contentedly. He was having a fascinating conversation with Hermione about the chemical makeup of one of the products him and Fred were working on presently. She could be a real help sometimes.
He stared as she explained something to him in depth, completely in her element. She was cutting up some roast beef and flashed him an amazing smile as she asked his opinion on something.
"Uhm... Well," he stuttered. "You weren't paying attention, were you? I should have known better. You've got food in front of you," she joked.
"Sorry. What were you saying?"
She carried on and George made sure not to slip up again, even though the particular colour of blue she was wearing was definitely her colour, and those shorts were meant to kill him. It was in moments like these that she did not know how attractive she was.
The group finished dinner and Hermione left to clear up with Mrs. Weasley. Everyone was in the middle of clearing the table on the way back to the living room when George stopped dead in his tracks, hands raised, face scrunched up hilariously.
Every body in the room took two steps back.
"What are you all-"
"AH-CHOO!"
For a moment, there was not one movement. And then Fred started laughing uncontrollably.
Hermione stood stock still with her arms akimbo and her eyes closed, frozen in a state of flinching. George, however, looked appalled with himself.
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. Hermione I'm so-"
"Ew."
Laughing, everyone was dispersing into the rest of the house, having had a good chuckle at the unfortunate timing of Hermione Granger.
"I'm really-" "Sorry, I know. Don't worry, George. I'll sort myself out."
Hermione turned on her heel and made her way to the bathroom on the first landing of the staircase.
"Don't worry, George. Ron's sneezed all over her more than once, and she was plenty more mad at him than you," Ginny paused, "I've even sneezed on her."
George laughed and they shoved each other a few times before joining the racket in the other room. Hermione joined them a minute later with a freshly scrubbed face and her smooth curls tumbling down around her shoulders. She grinned at George before sitting down with Mrs. Weasley and jumping straight into conversation.
When the night wound down, people started leaving for home, thanking Molly and Arthur as they left, promising to see them next Sunday at the same time.
"Alright mum, I'm off. Lots to do tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep," Fred commented. "I don't know if any amount of sleep could help you." Hermione grinned as she passed between Fred and Molly to slip her sandals on again. "Thanks Molly. Dinner was lovely. See you soon?"
Mrs. Weasley enveloped Hermione in a hug.
"Of course, dear. Don't work too hard."
Hermione smiled and waved at the boys, disappearing into the darkness outside. Everyone waited for the telltale crack of her apparating away, closely followed by Harry, Charlie, Bill and Fleur, and lastly Fred and George.
"Bye mum. See you soon."
"Bye dears," she smiled, wiping her hands on her apron and turning back into the house.
The twins turned on the spot and suddenly they were back in their own flat.
"Want to come down to the pub with me?" Fred asked pouring himself a cup of water.
"No, thanks, I think I'll go to bed early. We do have a lot of work tomorrow. We have to get started on those pods." George scuffed down the hall pulling his shirt over his back and balling it up.
"I suppose you're right. Another night then, for manly bonding and alcohol consumption," Fred grinned and passed him on his way to the bathroom, clapping him on the back. "That was beautiful timing on your part this evening, Gred. You got Hermione square in the face. It was amazing." He carried on chuckling.
George grinned.
"It was, wasn't it?"