A/N Sorry. I just got pounded by real life. Hard.

A story of outtakes has been posted. So far I've uploaded a Fred/George/Hermione/Draco foursome for those who wanted to see it. Check it out.

When George came home, Hermione and Fred had dinner waiting for him, each plate of potatoes and chicken underneath a well-placed stasis charm. When the door opened, Hermione and Fred leaped up to greet him. Fred and George shared a quick kiss before George ducked his head down to greet Hermione.

The three of them walked to the dining room and sat at the table. They removed the charms and immediately began to eat. "I went to talk to Lee," George said through a mouthful of chicken. "He says that the cottage his mum was trying to sell got bought by some Frenchman. But I think that Hannah and Neville might have a spare room above the Leaky Cauldron, and that's just down the street."

Fred lightly nudged Hermione in the side, but George noticed. "What? What was that for? You know something. What was that?"

"George, I have something to tell you," Hermione began.

"Oh bullocks. You're not pregnant, are you?"

She chuckled in the back of her throat. "No. But you know how Draco and I have been becoming better friends?"

George nodded. "Oh Circe. I'm not sure I like the sounds of where this is going."

Fred poked him in the side and shook his head. "For heavens sake, will you just shut up and listen to the woman?"

"Thanks, Fred. Like I was saying, Draco and I are actually becoming friends. I saw him today and he suggested that I come to live with him in the ridiculously sprawling Malfoy estate. He said that there's a guesthouse isolated from the main building that I could stay in. I really don't want to do anything that you don't me to, though. I could try to find a place, or see if Neville and Hannah want me to come in."

George shook his head. "No, I don't that'll be necessary after all. I'd be more comfortable if maybe we could do something with him before you do, so I could feel better about letting you go. I don't mean to act like your father or anything; I don't want you to misunderstand me. I just don't want anything to happen to you, and I know that you've had problems with Draco in the past. I just care about you enough that I don't want you to end up hurt by him. Well, that, and that everything knows that he's devilishly attractive."

Hermione lightly grasped the men's hands, clasping them between hers. "I'm honored that you two care enough about me that you're afraid that I'd leave you for him. But, unless Draco has something that he's hiding, he's not my type. Two is better than one."

Fred took another plateful of food and ran a hand through his hair. "There's a Quidditch game tomorrow that George and I were going to. Puddlemere versus the Tornados. Ask him if he wants to come, I have a friend who could score us two more tickets so that all four of us could go."

"I don't think I want to go," Hermione said. "I think I want you three to try to get along on your own. I know you can. You're all good men, but I don't want to have to be a buffer between you. I want you try your hardest."

George nodded. "That makes sense. I promise I'll try to get along with him. For your sake. If you can put aside your differences with him, so can I. He did defect before the war ended, after all. At least if things go stale we could just talk about the game."

"And even then," chipped in George, "It'd be an interesting conversation. As much as it pains me to admit, he was the second best seeker at Hogwarts in a while. Harry was still the best, though. Hell, Malfoy's even better that James was supposed to be."

Hermione reached an arm out and summoned a piece of paper and immediately jotted out a brief letter.

Draco,

The boys have agreed to consider your offer under one condition: you accompany them to a Quidditch game tomorrow. It's the Puddlemere game, Fred's got tickets. They don't seem too put off by the idea, I think that they're just more afraid than anything. Owl me back sometime before the morning if you can, so I can alert Fred to get another ticket. I wouldn't be there, but the boys have promised that they'll be on their best behavior. From the sounds of things, they're really excited.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Hermione

She whistled for one of the boys' many owls and attached the letter to her leg, sending it off. Focusing back on the boys, she was unsurprised to hear that they were still talking about Quidditch. She took a moment to just look at them.

There were so many differences between them that she couldn't remember the last time she had thought of them as FredAndGeorge. They were Fred. and. George. George. And. Fred. They were two separate people, and even on the outside they were easy for her to tell apart, especially around the mouth. George's mouth was slightly poutier, and his lips pursed slightly when he smiled. Fred's smile was wider, and his lips thinner, although they had a completely separate smile they used when attempting to fool the others, large, and with almost every tooth showing.

Fred had a hint of a dimple in his cheek, and George's voice was slightly higher pitched. His long, lithe body tended to collapse into long lines and planes, while Fred had a habit of folding himself up and curling into corners or enclosed spaces.

Fred was slightly larger than George was, still playing Quidditch whenever possible, which George would often prefer to just relax. While George wasn't weak my any means, he was less defined muscularly than Fred.

Thinking about the things he chose to do with said muscles had Hermione getting hot under the collar. She slowly plucked at the button at the top of her robes, sliding them down over her shoulders. The boys were still talking about sports, and neither noticed the loss of her robe. She dropped it to the floor and stood, still wearing an oxford and trousers. Neither of the boys looked up.

She lowly plucked open the buttons on the shirt, dropping it to the floor as well. She had her trousers off and with it before one of the boys spared a look in her direction. George's bright hazel eyes slid rakishly over her exposed skin, while Fred continued to draw out a diagrammed play on the table with his wand, tiny x's and o's flying around the surface.

George lightly bit one of those oh-so plump lips, looking up at her through his lashes. He winked at her, and she reached behind herself to undo her bra. Her breasts fell out, and she noticed his eyes slide lower. She shimmied the underwear down off of her hips, and was somewhat surprised to see the show in front of him, or notice his brother's intense arousal. George's face was flushed red, and he exhaled slowly, before scooting his chair back quickly.

Fred was shocked by the grating noise and his eyes shot up, widening when he realized what had been going on around him. "Oh holy fuck."

Hermione turned on her heel and strode towards the bathroom. She turned on the taps, steaming water streaming into the deep bathtub. She sunk into the hot water, her hair curling around her face. She relaxed into the water, and watched the door. A few minutes later, the door slid open and the two men walked in, their mouths slightly swollen.

They divestoed themselves of their clothes, looking at Hermione in the tub. Fred came to stand behind George, wrapping his hand around George's cock. Fred rested his chin on George's shoulder, whose head lolled back. He looked down his nose at Hermione, his hips lightly thrusting into Fred's hand.

Hermione let a hand slide down her hips to between her legs. Fred slid his hand down and away from George, gently pushing him down to the tub. George slid into the water, Fred coming in with him. Fred settled down into the water behind Hermione, pulling her down into the water on top of him, but he didn't enter her.

He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her skin and kissing her neck. She let on leg slide out, and gently rested her feet on either side of George's cock. She slowly rubbed it between her soles, the action causing her to inadvertently grind down on Fred. He leaned back, resting his elbows on the edge of the tub and leaning back. George helped her to lift up onto Fred's cock, the angle of the tub forcing him impossibly deep. She leaned her back against his chest, and he wrapped one of his long arms around her waist, thrusting his hips lightly.

George slid deeper into the water, his legs coming up to rest near Fred's arms. Hermione gently rested her hands on top of his calves, stroking his skin, slowly letting her hands slide up to rest on his inner thighs. She massaged his muscular legs in smooth upward motions, while he stroked his cock, the uncut skin sliding under his hand.

He lightly squeezed the head, precum welling to the surface. He swiped his thumb through the liquid, slipping his finger into Hermione's mouth. She sucked on his finger, cleaning it of the traces of his arousal. Fred swiveled his hips, pushing deeper into Hermione.

No one was talking, a rare occurrence for them. All of them, especially George, were rather vocal during sex. Hermione gently pulled George to stand, and had him walk towards her in the warm water. She gently slid his cock into her mouth, and bobbed her head back and forth over the smooth, spicy skin. Fred sped up his movements somewhat, his hands coming down to her hips to mover her over him. Knowing that this could be one o their last nights together for a while had them all focusing on their movements. George bent over Hermione to capture Fred's mouth in a kiss.

Hermione was surrounded on all sides by the Weasleys' hot, slightly reddened skin. As far as places to be went, she couldn't ask for a better one.

It didn't take long for them to finish, all of them wanting nothing more than to be close to the others.

Afterwards, they all lay in George's bed, long arms entwined with shorter ones, straight and fine red hair on top of thick and curly brown. An owl tapped at the window, and Fred waved a hand, causing it to swing open. The owl flew in and held a thin leg out to Hermione, who untied the letter and fed it a treat.

Hermione,

It would seem that I have nothing better to do tomorrow than to accompany your men to the game. I assume that we will be flying to the game, tell them that I will come round their shop around ten... And that I expect no less than the Spanish Inquisition.

Draco Lucius Malfoy

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, Hermione thought to herself with an internal giggle. She relayed the boys the message and Fred wrote a note to the friend who was supplying them with the tickets to request another. There was a note of sobriety in the air, all of them hoped the next day would go well, but knew that if it did, Hermione would be leaving for weeks. Months. Maybe even forever.

-0-

Draco was, as promised, waiting for Fred and George at the register of WWW at exactly 10 o'clock, dressed in a black oxford, black sweater, and back linen trousers. He was always in black, and it made his shock of white hair stick out that much more. He was casually leaning up against the counter, shifting a bag of Jumping Jelly Babies between his long pale hands.

When the three of them walked up, he gently set them back on the counter and turned to shake the men's hands.

"Thank you," Fred said while letting go of Draco's hand.

Draco quizzically raised one smooth while eyebrow. "For…?"

"Well," Fred said. "It would seem that you keep coming to the aid of our Hermione, so I'd just like to thank you for putting aside your…differences… to help her."

Draco nodded. "You're welcome, but I did not do it for thanks. When I defected I did it because I realized how wrong I was, not because I realized that The Dark Side was losing."

Hermione was standing off to the side, shifting her weight back and forth. "Anything to say, Melete?"

George's eyebrows knitting together, and he leaned against the counter a few feet away from Draco. "Melete? What is that?"

Hermione smiled slightly at Draco. "She was one of the original three Boetian muses. She was the muse of thought and meditation. Her name means 'ponder', or 'contemplation'."

Draco nodded, "Fitting, I thought."

Hermione beckoned him forward, and reached for her wand. "Cm'ere, Draco."

He grudgingly walked forward. "Yes?"

"Cigarette case, if you please." Draco sighed slightly and reached into his pocket, pulling out the monogrammed silver case. He set it in her hand, and she waved her wand over it before waving her wand from the top of his head to the bottom of his ribs. "There. Now you can smoke. Anywhere. Without bothering everyone."

"Really?" he asked. "You'll have to teach me that charm. Do you mind?" he asked, looking at the Weasleys. "It is your store, after all."

"No, go ahead," George said. "If Hermione's right, which she most likely is, then there's no reason that you can't."

Draco lit a cigarette and slowly exhaled, tension that the three hadn't noticed melting away. Fred cautiously sniffed the air. "Smells like… tea."

"Mum's bread."

Hermione nodded. "It smells like whatever you most reminds you of a happy memory. It won't smell the same to any two people, most likely. It smells to me like my father's aftershave. That's why I said that it wouldn't bother people. It'll probably do nothing but calm them. Right, then. It's almost half past, you need to get going."

Hermione reached to her feet and grabbed the brown messenger bag she had backed. "You've got butterbeer, sandwiches, treats, at least three pairs of omnoculars, that broom compass Ron bought you for your birthday, as well as an emergency wand in case something happens."

Fred chuckled, and kissed her forehead. "Yes mum. I'm sure you packed a sweater and some socks, as well. Alright, we'll all come back in one piece, I promise."

Hermione glared at him slightly, and George smiled, leaning in to kiss her. "Bye, love."

Draco waved at her and thanked her again for the charm on his cigarettes.

When the boys left, Hermione flipped the sign on the shop window to 'Open', and keyed her wand into the wards of the register. Open for business.

-0-

"Right," George said, tapping his wand against a map of England before touching it to the compass. "Gloucester is 146.5 kilometers from here. Malfoy, I don't know what kind of broom you brought, but we've got Cleansweeps. It'll be...oh, about and hour and fifteen minutes to get to the pitch."

"Oh!" Draco exclaimed, reaching into the bag he'd brought with him. He pulled out three Firebolts, handing one to the each of the brothers. "I thought these might speed up the trip a tick."

George tried not to look surprised, and nodded. "Right. Well. Then it'll take us about 35 minutes. Isn't that nice. Alright, well, off we go then."

The three rose into the air, and George looked down at the compass he had affixed to the handle. Fred cast a mild sonorous so that they could hear each other.

"Well, Malfoy. What have you been up to since we last met?"

"Well, I was actually contacted by Head Goblin of Gringotts. I've been doing some work similar to that of your brother Bill. Except my work is much more low level. But because of my… experience… in dark magic, they have me working on relaxing curses on objects recovered from seized vaults."

"Oh, wow," George said. "That's actually really fascinating. What kind of things do they usually have you working on?"

"They had me sorting through my somewhat unstable aunt's vault a couple of days ago. There was a settee that she'd had for years in that vault. When they were destroying the items in Voldemort's Palace of Horrors, they discovered one identical to it. It was discovered that one would transport you to the other, when one of the investigators laid down on it and found himself trapped in dearest Auntie's vault. Thankfully, one of the people at the Palace was one of the Goblins who had recently seen to Bellatrix's vault. They immediately sent someone to come along and rescue him, but they needed to find somewhat to break the bond. So I got to spend time un-Voldemorting a floral chaise."

Fred and George snickered, imagining the image that he had supplied. "Do you mind if I ask you a somewhat personal question?"

The men looked at each other before nodding. "Sure."

"When did you two realize you were…"

"Feeling more than brotherly love?" Fred supplied.

"Ready to bump uglies?"

"Getting a chubby at the thought of our best friend?"

Draco held out a hand to stop them. "I'm sure that any of those work. But what I was really talking about was more of the first one. When did you two really fall in love?"

George spoke first. "I don't know about what it was for him, but for me it was kind of… you know how when you spend so much time with a person, they start to grow on you? Not saying that Fred's off-putting, or anything. But it was like… I started seeing things about him that I knew most people didn't. We were always close; you had to be in a family our size living in a home the size of The Burrow. There wasn't enough money for everyone to have their own bedroom before we were born.

"Considering the fact that we're pureblooded, we aren't affluent. At all. Bill had his own room, and Charlie and Percy shared one. Once Ron was born, they expanded the space, but decided to only add two more rooms. They figured that the two of us were so close that we wouldn't mind sharing a room still.

"Once we hit puberty and went off to Hogwarts, that's when things got weird. We'd been sharing a bed for 11 years of our lives, and when we went to school they put us in separate beds. We eventually just started sharing a bed again, no one ended up caring as much as we had thought they would. A few people said things, but most people just figured it was because we were Weasleys.

"We eventually came upon the Marauder's Map, and after that point, we really started to form a real relationship because we were able to find places that were astonishingly isolated."

Fred took over at that point. "We didn't have a real relationship until our second year. It was getting harder for us to hide, but we somehow managed to pull it off. Slytherins used to make comments about the things we must do to each other. People used to say things along the lines of all of our family sharing a bed. Someone once said that no one knew if Dad was really Ginny's father… I think it was Marcus Flint, but someone said that Bill or Charlie was her father.

"All I remember was being absolutely ashamed of just being a Weasley. There is absolutely nothing about being myself that I should've been ashamed of, but I had stopped talking to George for really the first time in my life. It didn't last exceptionally long, but it was a little bit unnerving to feel like I was not someone who was human. Hermione began to notice that George and I weren't speaking, and she somehow tricked us into talking again.

"It wasn't until fourth year or so that we started having a… sexual… relationship. We were able to keep everything very hush-hush until we met Hermione again a few months ago. Thanks to her, I'm not ashamed of being me. I'm not afraid of being in love with my brother, or afraid of being in love with a woman on top of that. I don't mean to have told you more than you wanted to know, but I hope we answered that as well as we could."

Draco nodded. "Thank you for sharing. I really regret the part that I played to make you feel that way."

"I appreciate that," George said.

"Thank you," Fred whispered.

George threw his brother a look, an intimate look that made Draco feel like he was intruding.

"There's Gloucester," George called, pointing down. They began to fly down, landing outside of the pitch. Draco's brooms were placed back in his bag, and Hermione's bag was thrown over a shoulder. The tickets were surrendered and magical traces were put on those who had already paid.

Fred had managed to get them good tickets, and they were sitting high up and close to the field. The men were all feeling a little bit closer after their talk on the way over. They didn't run out of things to talk about during the game, discussing things of greater variety than just what was going on on the field. Sure, they discussed things like Volger's attempt at flacking, or Howell trying to blog Rackharrow. But they also were able to talk about many things is their personal lives as well as things occurring in the wizarding world.

It was an awkward camaraderie but it worked. They were realizing that Draco was, in fact, someone who had the best intentions in giving Hermione a place to live.

-0-

Hermione closed the store and went upstairs to take a shower. She didn't seem to be able to find anything that she needed. Where was all of her stuff?

She went into the bedroom and was surprised to see that the boxes of her things were gone as well, and a folded parchment was sitting on the bed.

Hermione,

Your things are at the manor. He's a good guy after all.

We will wait for you. Forever.

Fred and George

Sorry, again. Any day now (otherwise known as… about a week. Or three), I'll be uploading a Veela!Draco and Hermione one-shot, and I've got a Bill/Hermione floating around in my head that was influenced by a John Lennon song. That'll be up sometime. Probably before New Years. Probably. Maybe.

Anyone who recognized the Monty Python quote in here gets a sneak peak of chapter twelve.