Hermione paced the shop floor, her hands continuously rolling the wands over and over. "This is absolutely impossible. He must be wrong about it," she muttered.

Fred groaned and lay down on the ratty old couch Lee had found outside of a closed down café three years ago. "Love, neither of us understand this. Worrying about it won't do any good until we get an explanation from this Allistar bloke in the morning. We managed to track him down at the Ministry, all we can do now is wait until morning to see him."

"And waiting around won't solve anything," she snapped. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her hand against her forehead. It had been a long night for the both of them and yet she was acting as if he was doing nothing more than laze about despite him suggesting that they use his shop to sort things out. "I'm sorry, Fred. That was out of line. This isn't your fault any more than it is mine."

He snorted. "Not according to Ollivander. Apparently the ruin doesn't set until the proposal is accepted seven times. So one of us has the lead on that score. How's the potion coming along?"

Hermione glanced towards the cauldron, still simmering over a low fire. "Still cloudy. Are you sure you brewed it right? The recipe said it would only take thirty minutes and it's almost been an hour."

Fred frowned. "I brewed it exactly as it needed to be."

"Yes, but you've put in five jabborknoll feathers. It only needed four. Not to mention you substituted fae dust for faerie wings. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked as she flipped the potions book back open.

"If you weren't so wound up I'd have thrown you out of my shop for that," Fred said sharply. "I brew at least 30 potions a day in addition to the lines currently in testing. And if you've forgotten by now, they don't give the title of Master Potioneer to anyone off the streets. Even Snape could never achieve that title," he finished sourly.

"Right, right, you're absolutely right," Hermione said quickly. Even this far out of Hogwarts it was still hard for her to admit that she wasn't the expert in the room. "I don't know when the last time I brewed a potion was. But shouldn't it be done by now?"

Fred rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the couch. "The ingredients have been double, so that adds another forty-five minutes at least. The reason there's an extra feather in there is to keep the memories from melding with dreams. The fae dust was substituted in because we're looking specifically for anything that might deal with runic binding, you should remember that at least. And before you ask about the dove's spleen, that was added because we're specifically looking for anything dealing with marriage. So be prepared for some weird dreams tonight. Now calm down before I force a calming drought into you."

Hermione frowned at him. Somewhere in the back of her brain she knew he was right, but her inner seventeen year old still wanted to bicker at him, to find some hole in his explanation to prove she knew better. When she couldn't find some ground to stand on, she sat down in the nearest chair. Thinking about it wasn't going to do her any good. They'd both been thinking through this whole thing since they'd left Ollivander's earlier at 6. They'd been doing nothing but think about it and she was tired of the whole thing already.

Too bad they'd both agreed to keep this mum until they figured out what was going on or she'd have already written Harry and Ron. Though if anyone was bound to think this was a joke it would be those two. Even she had to admit how bizarre this whole thing seemed. They'd taken some sort of vow seven times and it had stuck? It was utter nonsense. Besides, even if it weren't it wasn't as if they couldn't pop down to the Ministry and have things sorted out before Wednesday.

It had to be some sort of mixup. Cosmically if not karmically.

Even if this wasn't a mix-up, it wasn't as if their personalities were a good match. Then again, it wasn't as if they meshed badly. They certainly weren't the volatile mix that she and Ron had been. He had a much cooler head than his brother to start with. And it wasn't as if they spent all that much time alone together in the first place. Yes, they'd become closer over the years, but she still wasn't sure if that was because they were the only two still single in their group of friends or if it was because of a genuine friendship between the two of them.

Not to mention he was still giggling about fart jokes at 33. That alone was cause for concern.

While she set about thinking herself into an even deeper hole, Hermione fiddled with the papers in front of her, scanning the pages for anything interesting. She'd been back here enough to know that anything the twins didn't want seen would be locked away or written with ink meant only for their eyes. Their magic certainly was brilliant and quite creative for the products they came up with, but Hermione couldn't help but wonder if there was a more practical use for their talents.

This hat, for instance. The schematics, if she was reading them right, were similar to the ones they'd sold back in Hogwarts. Put it on and one's head disappeared. Take it off and it reappears. Now it appeared that they'd replaced the invisibility charm with one for shielding. But if they tweaked the wand movements more to the side to activate it, and added in Moonseed to the dye, well then that would lend itself better to hiding in plain sight. That should encourage the looker's eyes to slide away from the wearer, almost like an invisibility shield in plain sight. And a splash of star grass should enhance that effect.

Hermione picked up the self-inking quill and began to scratch notes along the sides of the schematics, adding in her own suggestions on potential applications and markets for the products.

Xxxx

Fred glanced out from underneath his arm when the silence became too much. Hermione was no longer pacing the floor, thank Merlin, and the potion was beginning to smell as it should. He might have stretched the truth about how much longer the potion needed to simmer, but that was more to keep his sanity intact than anything else. As it was they'd both have to take a sleeping drought for the memory potion to have any effect tonight.

In the quiet he was left waiting to figure out why he would have proposed to Hermione Granger of all people. Seven times, even. Or, conversely, why he would have accepted a proposal from her seven times. They were close enough as friends. But even then they weren't as close as, say, he and Harry were. She'd been around for ages, that much was certain. Yet they didn't take pains to spend time together regularly. If he did manage to see her on a regular basis it was only because someone else had planned something, not because he'd dropped her an owl.

Overall though, he could have done much worse than her for a partner. She was intelligent, driven, attractive, and his family loved her. And he did feel some sort of affection towards her, despite that affection he felt towards Verity. Though that was ignoring the massive crush he'd had on her in seventh year. There was that to think of.

A ringing from above the cauldron broke him away from that line of thinking and he stood up quickly, determined to get this over with sooner than later. Hermione glanced up at the sound and dropped the papers quickly, looking for all the world like she had when he'd caught her rummaging through Snape's ingredient closet in her fifth year. She still wouldn't tell him what she was using the syrup of hellebore for.

"Sorry, I was just making a few notes," she said.

He shrugged. "They're George's anyways. Doubt he'll mind," he told her as he checked the cauldron. The liquid was clear as water and as viscous as mud. Perfect for what he was after. "Move those papers from that bench, will you," he said, pointing towards the back wall. When it was cleared, Fred picked up the cauldron by its handle and moved it across the room at a snail's pace. The last thing either of them needed was to waste another hour having to rebrew the potion.

"One pint each then," she said softly.

Fred nodded. "We'll take these after we go upstairs," he said as he scooped the liquid out and carefully measured it into two vials. "Otherwise we'll be just as liable to hit us on our way up."

"Upstairs? We're not staying down here?" Hermione asked, glancing back at the couch.

"Not unless you want to explain to George why you're sleeping on his desk tomorrow morning."

"And Lee?"

"Already turned in for the night. I checked when we flooed in from Ministry Records."

"Right. Upstairs it is," she said as she followed him towards the back of the shop.

"Fifth step creaks, I'd avoid that one," he murmured as he skipped over it. He turned to find Hermione struggling to find her balance and he held out his hand to pull her up. "Sorry, forgot how short your legs were," he said, and for the first time that night her nose scrunched up in irritation rather than worry.

"What is it with Weasley's and short jokes? It's not my fault all of you are abnormally tall," she muttered and Fred smiled. At least after today they were still able to maintain some semblance of normality.

"Perk of genetics, love," he whispered as he stepped into the flat. "You'll find out soon enough how quickly Weasley spawn shoots up," he said. Hermione's face fall back into worry when he realized the implications his words had taken on. "With Victoire and James," he added quickly.

"Yes, right. Of course." She ran a hand through her hand and glanced about the apartment. "I suppose I'll take the couch then."

"Same room, love. Sorry," he reminded her before walking into the dark room he'd long ago claimed as his. He flicked the lights on and headed towards his closet, pulling out a shirt and long pants. "If you'd be more comfortable in these. I'll just leave these here," he offered weakly before laying out a comforter and pillow on the floor.

"Thanks," Hermione said as she closed the door behind her. "I always thought you'd be more chaotic," she murmured.

"Nah. Bad experience with mixing up me and George's cauldron's in first year had me organizing everything from then on. Still can't taste green foods," he said as he picked up his own change of clothes and stepped into the bathroom. When he finished, he pulled two sleeping potions from the medicine cabinet and set one down on the bedside table. He glanced over at Hermione and grinned at how ridiculous she looked in the oversized clothing.

"Oh hush. This is just payback for those shorts, isn't it?"

"No, if I'd wanted that I would have given you that ugly Cannon's orange shirt Ron got me last Christmas," he said with a smile.

Hermione gave a soft chuckle and like that they were back to the uncomfortable silence from before. She cleared her throat before picking up the vial. "This one first?"

Fred nodded. "Then the sleep draught."

"Fred?" she asked, staring at the liquid.

"What is it?"

"We'll make it through this okay, won't we?"

"If we can make it through Fleur's dinner on Boxing Day, we'll survive this easily," he told her before downing his own potions.

xxxx

Managed to make it 11 chapters without need of a filler chapter! But I figured I'd at least have to say something about what happened after they found out. Apologies ahead of time if the next chapter doesn't come out before next week. I'll be running after my cousin later this week so while it may be in my head, that doesn't translate to the computer between work and everything else going on.

And massive thanks to mNmcswain for giving me feedback, much appreciated! Hakuna matata indeed!