George wasn't really ready to have "the talk" with Hermione. She was only fifteen years old, and he and Fred were thinking about forever. The pureblood wizarding world was ancient, and had certain archaic ideas about courting and marriage. Fred and George had grown up in that world and they understood all of the complex rules that governed relationships, but Hermione most certainly did not. He couldn't help but believe that the minute they started talking about what they really wanted, she would run screaming for the hills. He and Fred had dated a few muggle-born witches, and he knew that the muggles had some peculiar ideas about relationships. He was pretty sure that she was their witch, the little girl that they'd found and bonded themselves to at the hoary age of seven years old. If that were so, they were actually already married, or at least a wizarding world recognized variant thereof. He wasn't exactly sure, and he really, really wanted to get his hands on the book which must still be somewhere in the Burrow, but he was pretty sure.
Fred thought George worried too much. They didn't have to tell her that they might or might not be married, or bonded, or whatever. They didn't have to tell her that they wanted to be with her for forever. They could tell her that they wanted to try dating. She liked them, they knew she did. Maybe muggles didn't normally date two blokes at once, but if they could find some sort of book about pureblood marriage customs she'd believe it. Hermione would believe anything that was in a book. Fred scoured the library until he found a thick volume entitled Marriage Customs among the Pureblood Families of England, Scotland and Wales by Bathilda Bagshot. It was a historic perspective that noted the reasons behind the varied customs that had developed in the wizarding world, and he thought it might appeal to Hermione's inner scholar. He checked it out and hauled to Gryffindor tower where he unceremoniously heaved it onto the table their little spitfire was using to study for Harry's next task. She stared at it for a moment and then looked up at him.
"What on earth is this?" She asked in surprise. Fred grinned at her.
"A bit of light reading. Read that, and then we'll all sit down and talk," he explained. She examined the title and blushed. "Don't get any ideas there, spitfire. I chose this one because it explains a lot of the different types and styles of relationships a witch or wizard may enter into, and it gives you a historical perspective as well."
"I see," she said slowly looking at the thick volume. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to read it right away, Fred. Harry needs my help."
"I know that, but it's fairly important that you read it, and understand it before we have our little chat," Fred told her honestly. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded.
"That makes sense," she said finally. "But if there's some sort of surprise ball between now and then…"
"We'll ask you. We'll figure out how to disable the girls' staircase and sneak ahead of all the competition," Fred promised. She bestowed a wide smile on him.
"See that you do," she said primly.
F/H/G/F/H/G
"Oh this is no use," Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"
"I wouldn't mind," said Fred Weasley's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.
"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.
"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, spitfire."
"Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised.
"Dunno… she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred.
"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George.
Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, who felt his stomach drop. Was Professor McGonagall about to tell Ron and Hermione off? Perhaps she'd noticed how much they were helping him, when he ought to be working out how to do the task alone?
"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry as she got up to go with Ron - both of them looked very anxious. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"
"Right," said Harry uneasily.
Fred and George waited for their spitfire to return that night, but she never did. They slept poorly in the commons room, tossing and turning on the couches. In the morning, they shuffled out to watch the second task, and hopefully find Hermione. Needless to say, the twins were less than amused when they discovered that their spitfire was the thing that was most precious to Viktor Krum. They didn't really think that Dumbledore would let anything happen to the people held captive at the bottom of the lake, but if anything did they would have a few things to discuss with Krum.
"We have to do something-"
"-about that man."
When Hermione was pulled out of the water, the twins gleefully elbowed Krum aside and pulled her into their arms.
"You are not supposed to be here," Krum said gruffly. "This area is for champions."
"I'd like to see you stop us," Fred said with a feral smile.
"He can always try," George said brightly, his eyes daring Krum to be that stupid.
"S-s-stop it," Hermione chattered at him. Madame Pomfrey moved the twins aside to administer potions to their spitfire. Then she was back in their arms, and George had his face pressed against her neck. "I wasn't in any real danger. Surely you both know that?"
"Knowing in the mind and knowing in the heart are two vastly different things," George muttered against her ear and she shivered.
Fred and George picked her up and carried her back toward the castle, steadfastly ignoring Krum who tried to follow them and protest their intrusion on his special moment with Hermione. George carried her, cradling her against him, while Fred did a warming charm on the blanket she was wrapped in. She pressed her cold face against George's chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.
F/H/G/F/H/G
"Mum definitely isn't going to like this," Ginny muttered to Hermione as she read the article in Witch Weekly.
"Yes, I know. Ron told me. I'm a scarlet woman," Hermione said scathingly. Ginny snorted.
"There's absolutely nothing in here about the twins, but everybody at the tournament saw them swarm you and carry you off with Krum trailing behind you," Ginny muttered to herself. Hermione suppressed a giggle at the memory.
"They do seem to be a bit over-protective," Hermione observed calmly. Ginny snorted again.
"Possessive is more like it," Ginny muttered under her breath.
"Why does your mother believe everything in print? She knows the stuff about the ministry is usually wrong," Hermione said reasonably. Ginny just looked at her.
"When it comes to her family, all bets are off. If Mum feels that one of her own is being threatened or hurt she can get a little mental," Ginny said as diplomatically as she could. Hermione's eyes widened slightly.
"I see," she said quietly, her face pensive.
When Hermione had said that she wouldn't have time to read the book Fred had found, she had been absolutely correct. They had barely seen their spitfire lately. She was practically living in the library, and when she wasn't doing that she and Harry were studying hexes, curses and shielding charms like no one's business. Fred and George had watched them practicing a few times, from a distance, and they had come to the rather disturbing conclusion that Harry could probably take them in a duel. Maybe even at the same time. Hermione was no slouch either, she had to be good to offer Harry any kind of competition. Hermione was working hard to save Harry, and they were proud of her. Their talk could always come later.
By the time for the third task came around, Ginny was proven right; Both Bill and Mrs. Weasley seemed glacially cool to Hermione, who could not help but look to the twins for reassurance, her hazel eyes wide. Harry told Mrs. Weasley that Hermione was not, nor had she ever been his girlfriend, and begged her not to believe Rita Skeeter. Mrs. Weasley seemed to believe Harry's words, but it was the interaction between Fred and George and Hermione that was most telling. The twins stood up and grabbed her, and pulled her between them on the bench. Fred slung an arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear that she shouldn't worry. George slid an arm around her waist and stroked lazy circles on her back. After that, Bill and Mrs. Weasley seemed much more friendly to Hermione for which she was grateful. George looked at Fred, and there was a wealth of communication in that single glance. They were going to have to sit the family down and have a chat about how they could and could not treat their spitfire. Fred agreed wholeheartedly. There was no excuse for their family to hurt their spitfire's feelings. Especially if it was over some stupid article in some asinine publication.
F/H/G/F/H/G
Harry was an all right bloke. He was mental, but he was all right. Fred and George still couldn't believe that they were holding a thousand galleons. They'd pinched each other, and it wasn't a dream, then they grinned at one another. Brilliant. The joke shop was really, truly going to happen. It was part of their master plan, the joke shop, and with the money to make it a reality, the rest of their plan wasn't too far behind. Fred knew he'd never be happy in a Ministry job like Dad or Percy the amazing prat. Bill was a curse-breaker, and Charlie worked with dragons, so cool and dangerous were already taken. George had said that they were already pranksters, so a joke shop was a logical choice. Fred couldn't help but agree.
Phase One had been planning, which they had done ad nauseum, and Fred was heartily sick of it. Phase Two was research & development, which was a lot more fun. They just had to spend their last year figuring out what the average, and the un-average, Hogwarts students needed, desired and dreamed about and they would be making galleons hand over fist. That would give them two more years to make their business successful and save up for…well, they could talk more about that later. George had a far-away look in his eye that told Fred that his twin was already thinking about the research & development part.
As both boys got off the train they froze for a second when they saw their spitfire pull Harry in for a quick hug and then kiss the Boy-Who-Might-Not-Live on the cheek. They frowned darkly at the scene and glared at Harry for a moment.
"Just because he's funding our dreams-"
"does NOT give him permission-"
"to kiss our spitfire."
Hermione skipped over to them, her hazel eyes shining.
"You're going to write me this summer, right?" She asked, her cheeks turning pink. Fred and George were still frowning slightly. She frowned back at them. "What?"
"Why did you kiss him?" George demanded. Hermione blinked at him.
"Well, it's what siblings, do…isn't it?" She said uncertainly. "I just wanted Harry to know that I think of him as family."
"I can promise you that I have never kissed any of my brothers," Fred said, a look of disgust on his face.
"You've kissed Ginny on the cheek though, I bet," Hermione said with a slight pout to her lips. George shrugged.
"I guess so," he agreed sourly.
"It's the same thing," Hermione insisted, her eyes flashing slightly. "Harry is like my brother."
Fred and George looked unimpressed with this argument. Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, and remembering the vicious hexing they'd helped give Malfoy, the twins took a cautious step back. Hermione lips curved ever so slightly in satisfaction.
"Now, are you going to write to me, or not?" Hermione asked with a raised brow.
"We'll write you, spitfire," they told her.
"Excellent!" She gave them each a quick hug and then ran toward her parents, waving.
"Maybe we can convince Mum to invite her straight away," George said thoughtfully. Fred nodded as they watched their spitfire moving away from them.
