Chapter Three

Hermione had been a little concerned that Percy's cover would be blown come dinner, when Mrs. Weasley insisted on banging and screaming his name, trying everything she and even the twins could think of to breech the room. She heaved a sigh of relief when the extra charms she'd placed on the room held up. It wasn't until five minutes after Percy left the house earlier that afternoon, she'd realized that the determined matriarch would do her very best to drag the workaholic ginger to the dinner table. And that the twin terrors would join in her efforts, if for no other reason than the promised joy of annoying the living daylights out of their older brother once again.

She spent the fifteen minute long operation Drag-Percy-Kicking-And-Screaming-To-Dinner sitting on the couch doing her very best to feign disinterest as she pretended to read a book. It was perhaps the first time ever that she was glad to hear shouts, curses and ominous crashes while she held a book in her hands. Thankfully, they finally gave up; Mrs. Weasley shooed everyone to the table to be served, preemptively refusing Hermione's offer to help. The sound of identical chuckles met her ears as she closed her mouth, slightly put out she didn't even get to ask before being shot down.

"Come along Miss Granger, I believe there's a seat next to me with your name on it," George wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently propelled her to follow his twin to the dining room.

"Oh great," Hermione said blandly. The twitch of her lips and smile in her eyes as she looked sidelong at him told him she was joking. "Just so long as your shadow doesn't have his name written on the one on my other side." Her lips spread into a small smile, but the sparkle in her eyes died as she attempted to continue to sound joking despite being serious.

"Don't worry, you can sit at the end next to dad and I'll keep Forge on my other side," George bent his head, lowering his voice to speak more quietly toward her temple to prevent the man in question from hearing them as he gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze. Unfortunately, Fred had never really lost that inexplicable love for riling her up, usually through pranks or some other childish behavior. Fortunately, George preferred to laugh with her instead of at her, making him a far more decent companion – ideal for complaining about the remainder of the Weasley clan, including a surprising free pass to rant about Fred, and an ideal though mild buffer against some of the worst of the pranks.

They sat just in time to hear Harry begin to try and explain blue jeans to Mr. Weasley. They all visibly winced in sympathy as Mr. Weasley insisted on hearing about their full and complete history because to truly understand and appreciate anything you simply must know if its history. Thank Merlin he'd reached the table first so Hermione could slip into her seat unnoticed and unvictimized. Not even Ms. Weasley could save him now, not that she was dumb enough to try and intervene. She simply rolled her eyes as she placed roast beef in rich gravy, mashed potatoes, Caesar salad and cornbread on the table. The smell was heavenly, causing everyone to quiet down in anticipation. Hermione's stomach rumbled audibly, making her blush and look up from the food. At first she thought no one heard until she heard chuckling from her right. Before she could react, George nudged her leg with his and placed some other the cornbread she'd just been all but drooling over on her plate as his other long arm reached across the table to catch first dips at the roast beef.

Forty-five minutes later everyone was leaning back in their chairs, wishing the food wasn't so good they ended up feeling sick from eating so much. Someone audibly groaned when Mrs. Weasley walked in, bearing a gloriously large rice pudding pie. At first the dessert stuck Hermione as strange, but upon first bite it proved to be yet another of Mrs. Wesley's huge successes.

The meal finally ended with Mrs. Weasley shooing everyone to go relax as she levitated the dishes to the kitchen. They were slow to stand and stretch, more than a few rubbing their stomachs in the process. Without warning, Ron let out one of the longest, loudest burps Hermione every heard. Everyone paused to look at him as the seemingly endless belch slowly drew to an end. With a sigh, he patted his stomach – the perfect picture of satisfaction.

"Well that was impressive," Hermione stared blankly at him, her face void of expression.

"Eh… I give it a nine out of ten," Harry returned promptly from across the table, his face a perfect reflection of hers.

"Yeah… guess you've got to deduct at least a point for lack of form," Hermione tuned her gaze to Harry as she spoke.

"At least a point. There was a total lack of the usual Ronald Weasley finesse," Harry met her gaze. Both kept their faces carefully schooled to neutral expressions despite the bizarre looks they were currently on the receiving end of, and Ron's not so subtle attempts to not burst out laughing at their commentary.

"We always knew this day would come," George stated gravely after a moment of charged silence. Fred nodded solemnly next to him.

"The aliens have finally responded to out messages. But their extraterrestrial, alpha-mega-phone rays must have malfunctioned, causing their rays to hit the wrong people and totally overpower their unprepared brains," Fred added quickly with what he probably thought was a wise look on his face. Instead, he just looked like he was trying to hold in a really big fart. Hermione was rolled her eyes when suddenly George grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. He held her face between his hands almost tenderly, tilting her head back at an angle forcing her to look up into his eyes…. And pressed his thumbs to the center of her face against the very tip of her nose to push it up and down repeatedly.

"Unhand her you fiends, or face my wrath!" He bellowed directly into her nostrils, causing them to vibrate uncomfortably.

"Take Percy instead!" Fred had somehow managed o grab a struggling harry in an identical hold and was positively roaring. "Or Ron even. Anyone but The Boy Who Live!"

"Hey!" Ron protested to unhearing ears.

Not budging on his hold, George swiveled Hermione's face to the side and spoke directly into her ear, just barely loud enough to be slightly uncomfortable, but not so loud to hurt her, "Hermione! We'll save you, to succumb to their alien probes!" Then, in impressively perfect unison even for them, the twins sealed their mouths around Hermione and Harry's noses and blew while making strange humming sounds. Immediately, Harry began struggling even harder against Fred's hold, who simply grabbed him tighter and blew and hummed even louder.

The rest of the room burst into laughter; tears ran down Hermione's cheeks as she laughed so hard that no sound came out. Soon after George stopped, her laughter and squirming making him laugh too much to continue his assault. A few seconds later, Fred finally released harry, who stumbled back wiping his nose furiously with his sleeve.

"Two words," he grimaces at Fred, "breathe mints."

Hermione squirmed a little trying to get comfortable on the floor cushion she was currently seated on. Ginny sat next to her, carefully regarding he cads before her next game. Everyone had retired to the living room and despite the uncomfortable seating; they'd chosen the perfect place for their Rummy game. Right by the window they had a perfect view of the stars and more privacy than on the couch. Near the couch, Harry and George were entranced in a game of exploding snaps, while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat on the couch, reading and knitting respectively. Fred had returned home, knowing there would be hell to pay is his little hellions didn't get their bed time story.

"I'm so glad Angelina will be able to make it to the party after all," Ginny commented as they discussed the upcoming party. "After all, the idea of just Fred and the twins there is a little concerning.

Hermione nodded, both women imagining the man's mischievous three year old twin brother and sister. It was undeniable the two were as cute as buttons with their light strawberry-brown hair and big blue eyes, but they seemed to be determined to prove they were undeniably their father's babies if their constant trouble making was any indication. "I'm just glad she's okay," she commented softly, not wanting the rest of the room to hear the still sensitive subject.

"Yeah," Ginny's voice was distant. They continued their game in momentary silence as they both thought back to the heart wrenching moment the doctor announced the woman had contracted viral meningitis. Every single one of them had to endure the intensely painful test to ensure they hadn't been infected as well. It was a few tense day of waiting as they all wondered helplessly quarantined within the house, waiting to hear their test results, and if the virus had progressed too far in Angelina. Thankfully, they were all healthy and the virus had been caught early enough that the doctors were able to guide Angelina through a long, slow recovery and prevent lasting damage.

The remainder of the evening passed quickly and surprisingly quietly despite the onslaught of a wizarding chess tournament with the remaining two brothers and Harry. When she estimated the time was nearly ten, Hermione feigned exhaustion, wishing everyone a goodnight as she quietly padded her way up the stairs to her room. Until they returned home for the party, she had the two eldest Weasleys boys' room to herself. She quickly changed and got ready for bed, and slid eagerly between the covers of Charlie's old bed. For some reason she never felt comfortable intruding on Bill's half of the room – perhaps because of how intimately she knew him and Fleur as a couple. Propped up against the pillows, she settled back to read, her wand on her nightstand in case Percy signaled for help.


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