The flat they stepped into was cosy, a spacious open plan living room leading into a kitchen, separated only by a bar with tall stools for meals. The large L-shaped sofa looked very comfortable and she slipped out of her flats and hung up her handbag on the coat rack near the door before taking a seat as George invited her to. Fred made himself busy in the kitchen, taking only a moment to float in a seat service with a plate of slightly burned biscuits.

"Do you bake?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Well, I try," George admitted, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "Freddie cooks more often than not and I like to experiment with baking but as you can tell, I'm not particularly good.

She took a quick bite from the biscuit she placed on her plate and hummed. "Dried apricots and macadamia?"

He nodded. "Do you like them?"

"Apricots are my favourite dried fruit…and macadamias are my favourite nuts. These are delicious," she admitted with a shrug. George's winning smile was most definitely not making her feel warm and her magic happy. Nope. Must be indigestion.

Fred added a set of tumblers and a bottle of whiskey on the table, catching her slight grimace. "Not a whiskey fan then. Gin or vodka maybe?"

"Gin please," she said with relief. She drank little but when she did, she avoided the magical whiskey at all costs after an accident when she hiccuped while drinking and ended up shooting flames through her nose into the loo….

Tea and drinks poured and everyone settled, she took them both in, trying to understand how in the world she had two soulmates, especially these two men. They'd always been friendly for sure, but she was so young when she knew them and stayed at the Burrow, stubborn and prideful and forever reprimanding Fred's darker streak. Though looking at it now, it was wholly unfair of her considering she'd put Skeeter into a jar for a month herself… And though they deal with jokes and humour, there was a brilliance to their inventions, a true craft. They may only have 3 OWLs each and never went back to get their NEWTS, but they were so talented with charms and potions, creative, both loyal, clearly very driven and smart with their business. There was a lot to admire, not to mention they were admittedly very handsome.

It wasn't like she was trying to work her way through the Weasleys as the vicious rumours suggested. Bill was a dear friend, Charlie was a good pen pal, she never really spoke to Percy, the twins were…okay, they were hot, her affection for Ron fizzled out when he started sucking face with Lavender and Ginny…well, they'd only shared one kiss when playing spin the bottle and she adored her fire but they were barely even friends these days. Fine, Skeeter did get one thing right, she had a type, loathe as she was to admit it. She loved the fire in their hair, the constellations of freckles and enigmatic hazel eyes that sparkled with gold and mischief in the right light. Finding them attractive would be no hardship, but wrapping her head about the situation was a bit more difficult.

She looked at the three sets of locks and keys on the table and frowned. "Did you always know that you had two soulmates?" she asked finally, starting them off when she noted they seemed to be waiting for her to make up her mind on where to start.

Her response was a tandem nod before George answered. "When they appeared, the first thing we did was to test our wrists against each other. It was a strange sensation, warm but hollow, an indication of us being connected but lacking the third that would complete our bond and allow for our locks and keys to appear. Do you know much about magical twins?"

She shook her head and sipped her tea as she motioned for him to go ahead, noting with relief it was her favourite earl grey.

"Well magical twins are unique. Muggles have this legend about twins being split from the same soul, which is what accounts for their closeness. Magical twin theory is different. We may be identical, but we each have our own magical core and essence, which means we have our own souls. But they will always be kindred, and always strive to be close," he explained. "A soulmate is not just someone you have a romantic love for, a soulmate can be someone your soul simply cannot be without and will always be fulfilled with. We knew from the moment we turned seventeen that we will be part of a triad, someone to complete the both of us and love us equally but in our own way while our part of the bond is satisfied with our familial love," he explained.

"So you two wouldn't-" she pointed between them, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Fred grinned and wrapped an arm around George's shoulders. "While I find my brother most handsome-"

"And Freddie is particularly irresistible-" George replied with an arm around his waist,

"Not like that. We are affectionate with each other-"

"We're each other's best friend-"

"And when we shared before, we learnt that things go bump in intimate moments-"

"But we don't see each other that way."

Hermione nodded, adapting quickly to the way they talked to try and keep up. Something within their speech however gave her a pause. "You've shared before, as in, one woman, together?"

They nodded and Fred took to answering this time. "We've always known what we like and share in our preferences. Some women can find it a bit too much though, a bit intense, so we've only shared twice before realising something never quite fit despite it feeling right to share."

She nodded and finished her tea before knocking back a mouthful of gin, reaching for the bottle to refill despite their raised brows.

"Okay, one more question. I know we have some getting-to-know-each-other to do and it's a bit…new to be considering being a part of a triad but I'm…not opposed to it being you," she tried to find the right words before grimacing. "That didn't come out right, sorry. What I mean is that what I know of you, I'm.. happy with. Oh fuck it," she rubbed a hand over her face before noticing them trying not to laugh valiantly. Her narrowed gaze however settled them a bit and she just forced the thought out as it came. "I need to get used to the idea that I'm going to be in a triad, soulbond, and want to get to know you better. But I feel like I already like you and know you enough to be glad it's you."

There, that would do.

"Well, we are very loveable but for now we'll make do with you liking us," Fred grinned.

"And while grateful to hear it, that wasn't your question," George pointed out, ever perceptive.

"Right, yes," she cleared her throat. "I just wanted to check that you're also alright with it being me? I don't know what your preference is, you probably still think of me as your brother's friend but-" she stopped rambling when she felt a pulse of magic crawl up her spine at Fred's touch to her hand. Gods, the soulmate magic was heady and the little bit of contact was already making her itch a little for more.

He let go of her hand when he noticed it was too distracting and she watched them sharing a look, communicating silently for a few moments before Fred turned to her once more with a smile. "While it has been a while since we saw each other, we don't have any doubts about you being able to balance us, and we would love to get to know the Hermione of today better."

Okay, that was good, that will do. "Alright. Well, thanks for the tea, I…it's been a long day and I'd like to think about this a bit," she stood to gather her handbag and shoes.

They stood with her as well, making her hide a smile at their manners, and went to the door with her to see her out.

"Maybe we could try an actual dinner next time?" George suggested, hoping to leave them in a good place to build on.

Hermione slipped on her shoes and nodded. "I haven't had a chance to check out the new restaurants here. Happy for you to choose something," she suggested. "Owl me?"

"Will do," Fred winked and leaned down to kiss her cheek, making her breath hitch for a moment.

Not to be outdone, George leaned in and pressed a kiss to her other cheek, leaving her rosy as she put away her lock and key, and waved them goodbye before descending the stairs and hurrying to her own flat.

A few days later the bell above the door to her shop let her know someone just walked in so she came around the corner with a practised smile that froze momentarily at the sight of the brunette before her.

"Parkinson," she greeted cautiously, seeing her eyeing up her charm bracelets with interest.

At the sound of her voice she looked up and straightened her posture, taking in Hermione's simple charcoal dress. "I came to check on you. And when I mentioned to Neville that you were back, he insisted I pass on this letter and invite you for dinner," she set a neat little envelope on the glass counter.

"Neville?" Hermione picked the letter up with confusion as her gaze flicked back to the brunette. "What do you-"

"Ah," Pansy lifted her left hand, showing off a beautiful engagement ring of yellow diamonds and pearls. "The wedding is in three weeks."

"Congratulations," Hermione managed, trying to wrap her head around that match. "Are you two-"

"Soulmates? Yes," Pansy nodded. "I'm working at Mungo's as a specialised healer for soulbound couples. Well, soulbound matches," she amended in light of the current situation with this magical triad.

"Do I need to come for any check ups or anything?" Hermione asked worriedly, suddenly realising it has been so long since she looked at the laws around soulmate magic that she wasn't even sure if the Ministry put some process in place.

Pansy was however already shaking her head. "No, nothing like that. We just advise that those trying to get pregnant make sure to come in for specialised scanning, as the magic of a pregnant witch can get a bit out of hand when fed through the soul bond," she pointed out. "Everything else is registered magically. There should be a record at the ministry that you have found your matches about now, that's about it," she explained, seeing the brunette was much changed from her days of righteousness.

The woman before her was still petite but as curvy as Pansy wasn't, her deep golden skin clear and wild curls taking up most of the space on her shoulders. She could easily see Granger fitting into the erratic energy of the troublesome twosome at lunch at the Burrow or at one of the famous Weasley parties. Honestly, ever since Draco married the Weaslette, their friend groups have completely blended and now it was an absolute rave anytime they met for a birthday, wedding or any other occasion. The only one left unattached were Theo who refused to tell them if he had found his soulmate at all, Daphne who was building her career and casually dating muggle women, and Blaise who was currently working on his business in Italy.

Speak of the devil , her brow raised as the very man she was thinking about stepped through the door with a large grin. Surprisingly enough, the answering grin that split across Granger's face was just as large.

"Blaise!" she greeted warmly and let herself get swooped in a hug before they exchanged kisses on each cheek.

"Tesoro, you're looking well," he smiled fondly and squeezed her again before taking a step towards Pansy with an amused smile. "Pansy Parkinson, soon-to-be Longbottom. You're looking well too," he leaned down and kissed her cheeks airily, skin barely touching.

"As if I would leave the house looking anything less than my usual standard," she pointed out, looking over his perfectly tailored vintage Versace suit. "You're still living the bachelor life, I hear."

He winked as his hand slipped into the pockets of his slacks. "What can I say, I'm picky about the company I keep."

She snorted. "Not the company you take to bed," she pointed out.

Hermione watched them bickering with amusement, her head cocked to the side as she tried to imagine them as the couple the rumours once had them.

Pansy noticed her silence and looked at her pointedly. "What?"

Hermione shrugged. "You know there were rumours once, that since your betrothal to Draco fell through, the two of you were dating and would marry?"

Pansy's snort was neither elegant nor lady-like, but the very thought of such a thing had her stomach roiling. "That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. If he was my husband, I would poison his tea."

Blaise only chuckled, much to Hermione's amusement. "Pansy darling, if I was your husband, I would drink it."

Hermione's tinkling laughter filled the shop front, sharp as a knife and absolutely joyful. While Pansy startled at the sound, Blaise was looking at the Gryffindor with a fond smile that spoke of a kind of love, respect and friendship she had only ever seen confined to their common room. Judging by the way Theo and Blaise were both so openly fond of her, Hermione Granger was an honorary snake. Pansy could live with that.

"Now, I haven't had lunch and am starving, so you better take me somewhere delicious," Blaise grinned before stepping closer and frowning a little as he picked up one of her curls, rubbing the end gently between his fingers. "And perhaps a salon? Honestly tesoro, they will think we can't take care of your beautiful hair in Italy. Or is this the lovely English weather making you out of sorts?"

She tugged on it a little self-consciously, well aware it has gone a bit more frizzy in the last couple of weeks. "I think it's just in a desperate need of some love, and maybe braids for a while to give the styling a rest," she admitted.

"Then you must try Parvati's salon, it is absolutely divine. She has a knack for thick South Asian hair, and has a gorgeous assistant Clarice who has a waiting list for her braids and treatments. But I'm sure she'll be able to fit you in, being who you are and all," Pansy promised before heading for the door, pointedly waiting for Blaise to come round and open it. "First, lunch. Then we can get you in a shape to have your men drooling," she winked.

"Men?" Blaise raised a brow as she summoned her handbag and he opened the door for the two ladies. "Someone better fill me in."

After saying her goodbyes to Blaise and Pansy, Hermione made her way back to the shop to check the last of the orders she finished before posting them with the local owl post across the street. It has been a slow day in the shop which meant she got to work on her custom pieces. Having made actual friends with Pansy and seeing Blaise again had made the day perfect. Now all she needed was to get into some comfortable pyjamas, order in, and give her head a rest.

She was used to doing her own box braids, taking her time throughout one whole day to do smaller sections and give her hands a rest. Clarice was a bloody artist. She worked with her hands, her wand, magic making a process that took her a whole day last a whole of forty-five minutes once they agreed on plain black. It wasn't that she didn't like colour, but she felt like keeping it simple and versatile, and just highlight the braids with some golden clasps of her own making. She was thinking of making her own little clasps and weaving in protection against the ever present autumnal humidity when her wards chimed, announcing a visitor.

She tied the strings on her plaid trousers and made sure her simple black henley wasn't showing much of her cleavage before checking her wards and opening the door a smidge, wand in hand. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was the very men she'd been discussing with her friends earlier.

"Er hi," she greeted a bit uncertainly, not sure why they were at her doorstep at six o'clock in the evening.

The answering identical grins set her heart pounding a little bit harder, not that they needed to know that. Fred finally answered, much to her relief. "Sorry to barge in on you but we spotted you having a quick lunch with your friends-"

"And the shop has been so busy with kids going to school soon-"

"that we haven't had a chance to take you out for dinner yet. So-"

"we brought it with us," George finished and lifted the two bags he was carrying, clearly filled neatly with plastic tubs and bags of deliciously smelling food.

"If you'll have us in your home. Or we can come back to ours if you're more comfortable. We just thought it might be nice to have a night in together," Fred admitted and for the first time she could see the exhaustion behind the happy smiles.

Even the jokesters had sad days, tough days, tired days, quiet days, and yet they still kept going because to bring joy to the world was still needed, every single day. So she stepped aside and waved them in, hoping her cosy flat would do.

"That better be chow mein I smell," she teased, wondering whether they managed to hit her favourites.

"Obviously! And sweet and sour sauce, and prawn toast, and we even have some roast duck and pancakes. Honestly witch, what do you take us for?" Fred teased cheekily but she could see he was watching her reaction closely, trying to learn her little expressions as much as she was trying to get to know them.

She replied with a warm smile and flicked her wand to set the low coffee table and arrange the pillows on the floor. "I am clearly going to be spoiled tonight so let's get to it. I'm actually hungry again," she admitted as they settled on the floor around the food and passed everything around as they loaded up their plates with different bits and bites.

She took a moment just to take them in as they bickered over the chicken balls animatedly with their chopsticks, realising that she was already relaxing in their presence. Fred had always been the more outspoken and passionate, his gestures more jerky when he argued, but she found his energy contagious. With his head turned to speak to his brother, she could see the silvery scar running from his temple past his jaw and down to his neck. The war left scars on them all, but his was a result of a whole wall caving in on him during the final battle. He'd spent months in recovery, or so she heard. He'd grown his hair out a bit, the coppery waves curling around his ears and neck until he set his chopsticks down and impatiently gathered it up into a top knot, leaving on the fringe to frame his handsome face.

George's smile quirked with fondness as he argued his point, more calmly but clearly with a winning argument that had him grinning and Fred huffing. She could see the remnants of the ear that had been blasted off, his short hair obscuring nothing from view. And so it shouldn't, he was a war hero, he had nothing to hide either. The glasses he wore held on above the scarred skin with what she suspected was a sticking charm to make sure they don't fall off, and she had to suppress a sudden urge to reach out and caress the outline of the scarred flesh. Taking a startled breath she rooted around in her bowl, taking the first bite of food to calm herself. It wouldn't do for them to sense the direction of their thoughts…

She supposed it made people more comfortable that they were more distinguishable these days, but she never had that particular problem. George had a little mole under his eye and Fred had a burst of tight-knit freckles beside his left ear. It was always easy for her to name them correctly. But seeing the changes in them reminded her that they were no longer in their teens, running around the Burrow during the school holidays. They were very much men in their mid-twenties, their shorter and slightly stockier beater's build only refined as they grew into their squarer features. And she realised, quite suddenly, that she did find them very handsome indeed, and wondered what it would be like to sit between them, feel their warmth from each side, and get to know their minds as well as their bodies.

"These are new," the words startled her from her thoughts as she looked up and noted George smiling, motioning at her head.

She nodded. "Had them done today, still getting used to the weight, it takes a few days to settle," she admitted.

"Angie used to complain about the weather all the time as well, it wrecked her curls too, especially with the amount of training she did for quidditch. I know braids are supposed to be protective but I've always quite fancied they look lovely," he offered a warm smile.

She found her cheeks warming a little at the compliment and chewed her little mouthful before responding. "Thank you. I'm thinking of a few more accessories, some gold clasps and beads, maybe that I can infuse with some protective magic," she mused.

The spark in their eyes was instantaneous, and off they were peppering her with questions about how in the world did she come up with her layering spells and she just had to tell them everything about her studies and living in Switzerland. And before she knew it, the food was gone, they moved up to the sofa with a glass of Tiger each, and was taking them in as they talked about their latest product development. At one point she couldn't keep up with shifting to see them both so she sat up on the comfortable armrest and stretched her legs out on the cushion instead. They took the hint, both turning sideways until George rested against the other side of the sofa and Fred leaned back against his chest, twining his legs around Hermione and looking like the very epitome of being comfortable.

And they clearly were, their bodies moving as one as they took a sip from their drinks before George wrapped an arm around his twin's middle and rested his hand on the firm flat belly beneath the soft blue cotton of Fred's shirt. She wondered whether there would be a day that she was this comfortable with them, not recalling any of her past relationships being this open. And she felt herself gravitating to them, like a gentle persistent pull on her magic, her very being, to join them and let them hold her as well.

Their laughter died down and she noticed in the silence they were both just looking at her, taking her in as she had been taking them both in tonight.

"Do you feel it too? Here?" Fred asked, pressing a hand to his sternum.

And she didn't need to ask what he meant, she knew he felt it too. She nodded and wrapped her arms around her middle a little protectively.

"I read that the pull gets a bit stronger as time goes if we hesitate too long before bonding. But we just wanted to let you know that we'll take as much time as we all need until we're comfortable doing this. We move at your pace, and if at any time you pull the stop, we stop," he said, quite serious compared to the laughter that still echoed in the room a minute ago.

"It's not just about me though," she pointed out.

"Sure, but we know what we want," George answered instead. "We've known for a long time that our souls were companions and that we would find a woman to fulfil our bond in new ways. We just waited to find her. You didn't even think you had a soulmate and now you had two. That will take some getting used to," he pointed out.

"At least I don't feel like we're strangers. A part of me feels like I know you already, not just when I was younger but the little things that you say I know to be true intrinsically." she tried to explain.

Fred grinned. "How do you think we guessed your food preferences tonight? It just felt like the right choice so we went with it. This fledgling bond will encourage us to get closer but for all it's worth, even if we weren't in this situation, we would have still been right here. Because we came to your shop that day to see you and take you out for dinner to reconnect irregardless. To find our soulmate in you has been unexpected but not unwelcome."

She nodded and finished her beer, sending the empty bottle into the recycling box in the kitchen. "And for what it's worth, I would have said yes," she offered with a soft smile.

They took their cue and got up, realising the hour was getting late and they could see she was getting tired. "We won't keep you any longer. Thank you for letting us in and having dinner with us. An actual dinner next time? Or maybe something else you fancy?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Dinner, and I like to walk, I did a lot of hiking in Switzerland. So, surprise me," she suggested.

"Yes, ma'am," they saluted before grinning widely and leaning down to kiss her cheek at the same time, making her head spin at the waft of bergamot, patchouli and a hint of gunpowder that clung to them both. It was a heady combination and she rooted her feet to not lean into them both.

"Good night," she opened the door for them and watched them head out, feeling both elated and a bit apprehensive.

If the bond was already encouraging her and she was drawn to them this much, how insistent will it get with time? Deciding it was a problem for another day, she saved the leftover portion of her noodles and put the container in the microwave to reheat tomorrow before going about her nightly rituals and finally blimbing into bed, finding it momentarily too cold to her liking before drifting off.