A/N: I hate this chapter so much. I practically rewrote the whole damn thing in revision and I'm still not happy with it. I figure it's probably just a difficult transition to pull off, and that I'll go ahead and get it out of the way – for the sake of moving the story forward.

Later, maybe once this is complete, or one day when I'm exceptionally bored, I'll come back and spruce it up. For now...urg.

DISCLAIMER: RAWR!(*)

It seemed so inadequate - sending something so personal, so potentially life altering - in a letter. Not that Fred and George really had other options.

They had no idea where she lived now. The only one who might be able to tell them, the only one Hermione had really been able to talk to since the break up, definitely wouldn't divulge that information without her permission. Harry was far too loyal, far too protective of Hermione to give up her whereabouts. He had been disgusted with the way the Weasley's treated Hermione when she and George first started dating...as if it was some insult to their family that she had chosen to be with him instead of Ron. But that disgust paled in comparison to the betrayal he felt when Hermione had been cut off upon their split. Wasn't she as good as family, how could it happen that no-one was willing to take her side? How could they all turn on her so easily, without a second thought?

The quarrel had caused a rift to form between Harry and Ginny. Although the Weasley's were usually a hot-headed bunch, apparently this was one tantrum that Harry was unwilling to forgive. Hermione blamed herself, of course, as she was wont to do. As a result, Harry didn't talk to the Weasleys much anymore. He only ever really saw Ron and Ginny...and their relationships were on thin enough ice as it was.

It was out of the question for them to show up to her work. They knew she would consider it utterly immature and unprofessional to bring such personal matters into the office. They could wait for her to show up at the shop again, but who knew when that would be? Probably not soon, if ever. No, they needed to get this drama resolved now.

No matter how much they hoped, Fred and George knew it was impossible for things to just snap back to the way they had been before. Hermione couldn't just move back in, couldn't slip back into her life as if she had never left. No matter how much any party involved might want it to be so easy. They couldn't just expect her to go back to part-time work, to spend her days beside them in the shop, mixing potions and baking candies. It would probably never be as comfortable, as natural for them as it once was.

In the end, the parchment they had sent her was barely half a foot long. They had squabbled for hours over what should be included...the decision to write only once had been unanimous It was important that they present a united front. If she thought they were divided in their affections for her there was no way she would come back. But that was just the problem.

They were divided.

Not where it mattered of course. They both loved her, they both forgave her, they were both willing to share...or at least willing to try. But the way they loved, the emotions they wanted to express, the things they thought were important for her to know – well, those were so different that it had seemed impossible, at moments, for them to agree on anything.

In the end they had settled on being as vague as possible. Including little more than the bare bones of the situation. It would be complicated enough later. This, at least, they could attempt to make straight-foreword and simple. Either she was willing to give it a go or she wasn't. The twins had clearly offered the terms they were willing to build around, and asked her to accept or reject them at face value. The only bit of emotion they had poured in was a small addition at the end. All but begging her to consider their offer, and assuring her of their sincerity.

Both had been reluctant when it came time to retire for the night. Although the letter had not gone out until nearly 23:00, the twins still fought the urge to stay up and wait for a response. It was a childish impulse, especially when they had to get up so early to open the shop tomorrow. Even if Hermione was awake to receive it right away, she would no doubt take some time to consider. Not to mention how long it might take her to compose a response...hopefully not as long as it had taken them.

Perhaps she wouldn't respond at all. Would she ever read their letter, or would she banish it upon sight? Perhaps they had been to vague, had they left any room for misinterpretation? Would she respond with terms of her own? There was so much doubt hanging in the air, so much foreign tension between the twins. Still, despite the fact they still weren't on the best of terms, Fred didn't hesitate to transfigured their twin beds into a queen. It had a certain kind of symmetry to it. The last time they had slept together was the night that Hermione had left. Before that it had been years, not since the battle of Hogwarts, when Fred had nearly died. It was something they had always done, but never really talked about. It felt natural to seek comfort in each other's presence, the fact that no matter what happened, they would always have each other was reassuring, especially in these circumstances.

There was nothing physically addictive about daydream charms. Even if one had been taking them all day, every day, for months there should be no negative side effects from quitting cold turkey.

Hermione knew that, it was a fact. A quantifiable and documented fact.

So why in Merlin's name did she feel so ill.

There was a thin film of sweat on her skin and she couldn't seem to stop her teeth from chattering. Her heart seemed to be beating much too fast and her throat felt tight and dry. To be honest, Hermione didn't know too much about muggle science, not nearly as much as she knew about potions or healing magic, but she was pretty she was experiencing some sort of stress induced panic attack.

Not that telling herself it was all in her head did any good. It certainly felt real enough.

She had attempted to press on with life as per usual, but when her attempts to eat dinner hadn't ended well she had pretty much given up on that facade entirely. The smell of cooking meat had made her sick to her stomach, the broth tasted like ash in her mouth. In the end, for the sake of her health, she had chocked down a handful of stale crackers before attempting to pass out on the sofa.

The bed was off limits, many of her charm induced fantasies had taken place on that bed, in the dim light of her muggle television with the lingering scent of candles floating in the air.

One might think she would avoid it because of the feelings it brought, ugly, conflicting feelings she didn't need on top of everything else right now. But truth be told, that was hardly the case. It would be far too easy at the moment to hole up in her world of make-believe and hide from the reality that was overwhelming her right now. But she wouldn't surrender this time, she was done taking the easy way out.

For months Hermione had been hiding within those manufactured fantasies. Tonight however, and from this point on, she would abstain completely. No alcohol, no charms (not that she had any) and certainly no more lying to herself. Tonight she deserved to be miserable, but tomorrow...

No more self-pity, no more wallowing. Tomorrow we face reality. Tomorrow we learn to cope. Who knows, maybe a week, a month from now we'll even start to feel normal again. It wouldn't be so bad to go out, to move on. To finally accept one of the countless dinner invitations that her co-workers kept offering.

Yes. Tomorrow we move on...

There was a loud bang on her window, jerking Hermione out of her semi-conscious state. Her battle-reflexes took over and she snatched up her wand, immediately dropping to the floor, ready to return fire.

The large amber eyes of the owl outside of her window looked back at her curiously.

Of course, just an owl. War's over, Voldemort's dead. Take a deep breath.

It was a familiar owl, Hermione had sent it out herself countless times. It was the official Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes owl. Fred and George both had owls for personal correspondence, of course. But it wasn't one of those owls outside her window at 1:00 in the morning. Nope, she got the business owl. That couldn't be good news.

How long had it been out there. It must have been a while, she was just too lost in her own thoughts to notice it's polite pecking at her glass. The poor thing. Hermione flipped the latch immediately and set a small bowl of water onto the counter for it. As an after thought she also set out a few of the same stale crackers she's had for dinner... as an extra reward for it's patience.

It was carrying nothing more then a small, rolled up scrap of parchment, sealed meticulously with Fred and George's ridiculous wax emblem.

Immediately she reached to tear it open, ignoring all of the voices in her head that insisted it certainly couldn't be anything nice...but as she twisted it to the side, sliding her nail beneath the wax to prevent tearing, a single pink bobble slipped out. It was a charm.

They had sent her a single daydream charm. Why?

Hermione cradled it gently in her palm as if it would break at the slightest hint of manhandling. She cancelled the shrinking charm the twins had placed on it and took a deep breath. Was it a good sign? A peace offering? A final goodbye?

The temptation to pop it now and deal with the letter later nagged at her mind, seducing her with the promise of escape from hours spent re-living and agonizing over today's events.

Except she couldn't convince herself that putting this off until later wouldn't just end up being worse. At least if she opened it now, whatever devastating or life altering news it held, the blow would be softened by the promise of escaping for an hour or so afterwords. Right?

Hadn't she just promised herself that she would put a stop to this madness..

Yes, Tomorrow. But it's not quite tomorrow yet...

No. If she didn't deal with this now it would always be: 'tomorrow', 'later', 'not now'. She needed to start putting her life back in order, she couldn't mourn forever, couldn't spend the rest of her life punishing herself for being such an indecisive twat.

With unsure, shaking hands Hermione carefully peeled off the wax and spread out the small, carefully torn scrap of parchment Holding it up to the dim light of her wand, forgetting the lamp that was easily within reach.

There was no introduction, no mention of the addressee. The twins hadn't even signed it at the end.

The handwriting was painfully neat throughout, but strangely mismatched...Hermione realized it was the effect of the Fred and George each penning a bit themselves. It was funny to see how different their handwriting was side by side. Hermione knew that George normally wrote down their recipes and product instructions. Though Hermione had never questioned why that was. Now she knew, Fred's handwriting was blocky and large, causing it to look especially childish when viewed side-by-side with George's elegant scrawl.

We wish you had come to us about this sooner. I know it's been nearly half a year since we have spoken to each other but please believe that I miss you now just as much, if not more, than I missed you the moment you left.

Your room is exactly the way you left it. We hope you will consider moving back in, the shop is doing better than ever and we would be more than happy to have your assistance, even if it is only a few days a week at first.

Whatever type of relationship you might want, George and I are willing to try. Though we ask that you be upfront about any feelings or desires from now on. Please don't hide things from us.

We know that despite your affections, you might not be comfortable with the idea of being with us both at the same time. Just to be clear: Neither of us like the idea of sharing you, but we are willing to give it a try. Though if you want either Fred or myself - (there was a word or two scratched out here, and Hermione tried a quick 'revelio' charm to try and reveal the words underneath it, though it didn't take.) more than, or instead of, the other, we ask that you tell us now.

It isn't a proud moment, but we are willing to take what we can get. Please don't punish yourself anymore. You can't help how you feel anymore than we can. Don't blame yourself.

We aren't mad, we're just confused. No one is saying that this situation will be easy or painless, but we hope you will consider coming back.

Please give us another chance. We love you.

...What?

What was she meant to say to that?

Hermione knew what she should say. She should say no. She should refuse to even entertain the thought of entering into such a volatile, self-destructive relationship...and yet she knew she wasn't strong enough to resist. Just like she had never been strong enough to resist the charms.

She had to at least give it a try.

But the couldn't expect her to...

She couldn't just...

Couldn't what? The twins wanted her to come back, but could she really just fit back into their lives that way? Moving back in with them was madness, everything would change. She couldn't share a room with George anymore...Fred would be jealous. She couldn't just keep her own room, it would be too weird if they all slept separately ..and the idea of sleeping with Fred and George on the same sheets, in the same room, when they were clearly so uncomfortable with the idea of sharing her seemed...unkind? Dirty? Whoreish?

Had they even thought it through?

Well, she had to ask herself, what would she suggest? They knew each other too well to 'date', and eventually someone would notice that she had been going out with both twins. They weren't completely identical anymore, and the twins were rather high profile...not to mention her own precarious position with the post. Being part of the famous 'Golden Trio' wasn't exactly a low profile gig.

No, if she dated them the old fashioned way someone was bound to catch on...

So what? Maybe only a few days a week at first. Perhaps if she eased herself back into the rhythm of the shop, only spent a couple nights with the twins every week. Maybe solutions would present themselves naturally. Hermione knew she was causing problems with her chronic need to over-think and plan in advance. Not all problems could be solved theoretically...sometimes, you just had to learn by doing.

Still...how was she meant to treat them now when they were all three together? How was she meant to look Fred in the eye after she had been with George...and vise-versa? It would feel so much like cheating...and Hermione would never be able to show affection to one in front of the other. She would have to make sure she never openly favored one twin, make sure she divided her time between them. Even if that wasn't what she really wanted.

What did she want?

Could she do this: love them both equally, make sure neither ever felt neglected or left out. Was it even possible to be with two people so similar without making comparisons. Hermione wasn't sure she could stop herself from comparing and contrasting them...as analytical as her brain was.

It was so much to live up to.

Hermione could feel herself spiraling into a pit of uncertainty and indecision when it dawned on her.

They love me - both of them love me.

They love me. They love me.

Hermione wasn't sure why, but it hadn't quite sunk in when she'd read it in ink. It hadn't quite hit her until she realized that all these problems...all these possible futures she kept dwelling on – this bottomless sinking feeling in her gut - None of it held a candle to the warm feeling that stirred in her gut as the implications twin's message began to properly sink in.

It will work.

It had to, they would make it work. All the harsh reality in the world couldn't stifle the euphoria that ran through her veins. It revitalized her, made her feel properly alive for the first time in too long.

They love me.

After fighting Voldemort how could something like this ever honestly defeat them. They could do anything. It might not always be a cakewalk, sure, but what was petty jealousy in the face of their raw love for one another.

I love them and they love me.

Suddenly Hermione felt herself overcome by the urge giggle. The power of love. That was basically what she was about to entrust her entire future with the twins to. She was willing to throw herself to the wolves because of the childish notion that 'love conquers all'. It was so naive that Hermione almost laughed at herself.

Living in the wizarding world had the oddest ability to make even the most ridiculously far-fetched ideas seem reasonable. Perhaps it would work out, perhaps good intentions, love, hope...would conquer all in the end. Perhaps they didn't need anything else. After all, how many times had they gone up against dark wizards, against Voldemort himself, without much more than that.

Yes, tomorrow she would go talk to the twins in person. She was ready to accept whatever it was they had to offer her, but not before she made sure they truly understood what it was they were getting themselves into.

Banishing her wand light and retreating to her bedroom Hermione placed the carefully folded note under her pillow and threw the daydream charm into her waste-paper basket.

Tomorrow then...

(*) = I don't own any of this shit.

So ya, I'm sure there are a ton of errors, and I'm sorry...but I literally got to the point where I thought I was going to start tearing my hair out if I had to make one more change.

If there are any glaring errors or inconsistencies please point them out and I will fix them...if not, well...#%&#($.

Seriously though..I hope everyone had a great weekend. Hopefully the next chapter will be up in a few days, I don't anticipate it being half as stubborn as this one.