The anxiety that suffocated the Burrow's living room could be easily slit with a knife. Ron was in the process of staring down a spot in the middle of the flooring. He hadn't seen Hermione Granger in the entire spans of three years, and now she was popping in for lunch? With a frustrated sigh, Ron dragged a heavy hand through his shaggy, ginger hair.
Fred entered from outside, today having turned into a much more delightful day than yesterday. He slowly made his way around the room in order to plop onto the couch at Ron's right side. "Watch it now, Ronnie. We wouldn't want you to scalp yourself."
Glancing up at his brother, Ron pried his hands from his head and scowled. Now was not really the time to deal with even one of the twins' antics. "Come off it, Fred. Don't you have something better to do?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Ron. I'm merely stating a well-observed fact," Fred said, leaning back casually in his seat and looking at the other man with a raised eyebrow, "All right?"
Ignoring the fact that Fred was actually showing even the slightest signs of concern, Ron replied, "Oh, never better," sarcastically. "How the bloody hell do you think I'm doing?"
"C'mon, Ronnie, it's just Hermione. She's really not all that bad, all things considered. Though, she does have a right-hook that I'd rather not be on the receiving end of during this lifetime."
"She left without a word, Fred. And she did it on our last day at Hogwarts, no less. Hermione didn't say goodbye to anyone," Ron said, frowning in annoyance as he remembered the hurt and betrayal that he had felt. When one of your "best friends" just up and leaves without so much as a reason, it tends to cling to the back of your mind instead of just being tossed aside.
"Well, that's not entirely true, mate," Fred stated matter-of-factly, before he could catch himself.
"What?"
He now had Ron's undivided attention.
"Scratch that," Fred said hastily, hoping now more than ever that Ron wouldn't nose his way into it.
"Buggar that, Fred! Tell me what you meant by it," Ron raised his voice, his patience running thin.
"I've got the right to remain silent."
"But you haven't got the ability, mate," a voice chuckled from behind as George strutted into the room. He quickly sobered at the looks on the two men's faces. "Who off-ed themselves? Was it Oliver Wood…Or, that melodramatic chit from the Daily Prophet? Well, anyways, I bet it wasn't Harry Potter, or shall I say, the-boy-who-just-wouldn't-die."
"Well, of course not. If I died, who'd be around to save your bloody arse whenever you need it?"
The three redheads spun in their places at the sound of a new, deep voice from behind them. Standing directly in front of the open front door, with a broad smile upon his face, was a young man with jet black hair, brilliant emerald eyes and very familiar round-edged glasses. Ron jumped to his feet and enthusiastically smiled back, "Harry! All right, mate?" He asked, walking over to clasp hands with his long-time best friend.
"I'm brilliant, you?" Harry responded, mutually shaking Ron's hand.
Ron opened his mouth to respond but was immediately cut off by Fred, "He's being a bloody girl."
"He won't stop fretting about our dear ol' Hermione's visit," George added.
"It's sickening really," Fred said.
Harry laughed at their antics and looked at Ron with a raised eyebrow, "Mate, c'mon. It's just 'Mione."
Fred waved his arms dramatically, "That's what I said!"
"Ron's stubborn as a mule," said George, shaking his head to himself.
Fred smiled at his twin, "Looks like one too, so it explains a bloody lot."
"Sod off, you two," Ron growled as the three others started laughing at his expense. He turned to Harry with curiosity sparkling in his eyes, "How was lunch with her?"
Harry, knowing exactly who he was speaking of, grinned instantly. This didn't go unnoticed by either of the twins, who raised amused eyebrows at the look on his face. Ron remained blissfully ignorant of it. "Oh, well . . . It was the same old, same old. You know? Just as if the years she was gone hadn't happened."
George laughed, "Just 'same old, same old,' Harry?"
"Are you sure about that?" Fred smirked, enjoying the situation more than was really necessary.
Harry turned slightly red; however, this time Ron picked up on it. "Bloody hell, Harry. Tell me you don't fancy her!"
Harry sighed in exasperation, "It's not like that, Ron. I don't fancy her!" Fred and George elbowed each other in amusement, "Wait 'til she arrives. You'll see," Harry said, pointing an accusing finger at them all.
George smiled, ignorant of Harry's threat. "So, when is Miss Granger arriving, again? It's five after twelve."
Just then, there was a faint popping noise. It was the familiar sound of someone apparatting into the house. All four men turned towards the ruckus.
Facing them, now, was the back of a wonderfully curvaceous body. The legs that showed beneath a jean skirt -which cut off about three inches above knee level-, were enough to give any man a few less-than-platonic thoughts. As the owner of the extraordinary pieces of finely-toned art seemed to realize the location of everybody else in the room, she turned around quickly to face them head-on.
Ron, Fred and George all couldn't even begin to believe that this was the same Hermione Granger as three years ago. Actually, George was positive that this woman had apparated into the wrong house. There was no way a swotty bookworm with bushy, brown hair, like Hermione, could have turned into this . . . Temptress. Ron felt his jaw actually fall ajar in his surprise. Harry, on the other hand, stepped forward with a smile, having had time, yesterday, to take in her new appearance. "Hermione!" He exclaimed in greeting, opening his arms to embrace his long-time friend.
Hermione smiled merrily and hugged him back, "Hello, Harry."
The way her lips curled up in the corners was especially seductive in Fred's mind. Her face, in general, did wonders for her overall sexual appeal. She wore hardly any make-up, but her face held a natural, radiant glow. It made her cheeks and lips rosy, and her brown eyes twinkle in a way that could put the late Albus Dumbledore to shame.
As Harry pulled away from her body, she turned towards Ron. He simply stared at her with a look of awe in his eyes. "Ronald Weasley, we are not a cod fish," Hermione joked, placing her hands upon her hips. Unfortunately, this did not help dry his shock. The way she was standing simply accented her, already well-observed, curves, in her lacey, blue tank-top. "Aren't you going to hug me, Ronald?" She asked, playfully pouting.
George felt himself internally groan as her lower lip jutted out at his younger brother. Lucky bastard. Why couldn't she direct that pout his way?
Ron seemed to finally be snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. A wide grin spread across his face as he raced forward and wrapped his arms around her. His long arms held her securely to him as he playfully twirled them around. Hermione's laugh chimed throughout the room like a fine-sounding bell. It was a pleasurable sound that any man would want to hear over and over again.
"It's so good to see you, 'Mione," Ron whispered, holding her away from him in order to take in the sight of her again.
"You too," Hermione said, stepping slightly from him while patting his pale, freckled cheek affectionately. Then, she turned towards the remaining two people in the room. The only two people left who hadn't said a word since her arrival. Immediately the knowledge of which twin was who, returned to her mind. She had always been an observant little witch. Fred's eyes had the same sharp, green glow beneath their blue surface that she had remembered, even while she was away. Upon gazing into George's eyes, she found herself basking in the milk-chocolate undertone that had always been oddly comforting.
Smiling brightly at him she chuckled, "Hello, George," and then to his twin she greeted him with a simple, "Fred."
"Hermione," the twins smirked in unison, obviously still enjoying the sight of her.
"Have you two grown up, yet?" She asked. Though, the quick roll of her eyes told them that she really doubted it was even possible.
"Dear, sweet Hermione . . . You're smarter than that. You know we'll never grow up," Fred said, holding out his hands to indicate himself and his twin.
"We're children at heart," George said.
"Free spirits," Fred continued.
"Free as the wind-"
"-and you can't catch the wind."
Harry chuckled, "Perfectly logical, really. For them, I mean."
Hermione laughed happily as Ron just shook his head at the lot of them. She finally looked at them confidently and shrugged it off, "Well, then. If you're the wind . . . And you can't catch the wind . . ." George nodded his head for her to continue her train of thought, ". . . Then, I guess you can't receive your hugs from me." She smiled at their childish pouts.
"I don't want to be the wind no more," Fred huffed, looking around dejectedly.
"I want to be a tree. You like nature, don't you, love?" George asked, looking at her with the most adorable of puppy eyes, "Hug the tree!"
Hermione laughed good-naturedly, but not before running into their open arms to give them the embrace that they had been waiting for since the moment that she had apparated in.
AN: So there's chapter 2. I hope you liked it. Be sure to leave me a comment! What did you think?