A/N: I'd very quickly like to say thank you to all my readers, and double thank you to those who took the time to review. This chapter was fun to write, so I hope you get a kick out of it as well. On with the story!

Chapter 4: Grown Ups

The rest of the night passed without incident—at least for Hermione. She didn't know how George was dealing with Fred's new attitude, but she didn't care much, either. She returned to the living room and spent her evening reading and talking with Ginny, occasionally glancing up while Harry and Ron played chess.

Next morning, Hermione trotted downstairs refreshed and ready for the day. Her mood was light—lighter than it had been in a while—and she was excited to take advantage of the perfect weather outside. She almost skipped breakfast entirely to get a head start on reading, but the smells of Mrs. Weasley's cooking were too hard to resist.

Hermione sat at the table and greeted the others warmly, taking a piece of toast and smothering it with jam. Most of the family was already there in the midst of their meals—in fact, all were present but Fred and George. Just as she realized it, George appeared, sighing as he slumped into his seat. He looked exhausted.

"Where's your other half, George?" Harry asked him casually.

The very mention of his brother made George groan. He rubbed his eyes and said, "Still locked away upstairs, I imagine."

"Well, what's he doing up there?" Mrs. Weasley turned toward the staircase and shouted, "Fred! Breakfast!"

"He's not coming," George replied. "He's working."

"On what?" Ginny asked, confused.

"I've got no idea, but he's been driving me mad about it. He stayed up all night—literally all night—doing paperwork for the shop, mixing potions, experimenting with new products…I could hardly sleep."

While the others furrowed their brows in bewilderment, Hermione did her best to hide a smile. She knew what had caused Fred's odd behavior, and watching its outcome was more amusing than she could have predicted. The potion, it seemed, had not yet worn off.

"Well," Hermione said, sarcastically optimistic, "at least he'll be productive at work."

George shook his head angrily. "I'm not letting him anywhere near the shop today. We'd end up murdering each other. The boy needs bed rest—lots and lots of bed rest."

"I'll check on him after breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said worriedly.

"Best not to, mum," George warned. "He'll bite your head off for disturbing him."

Hermione lifted a brow. Maybe now he'll be too busy to harass me, she thought with a laugh. If only.

Later, most of the family had left for their daily errands and engagements. George Apparated to his shop without Fred, Mr. Weasley went to work, and Mrs. Weasley made sure to inform everyone that she was carting Ron off to shop for new underwear. Harry, Ginny and Hermione were the only ones left in the house, without counting Fred. He hadn't left his room all morning, and thus his presence went forgotten.

At least, it went forgotten for a while. Without anything better to do, Harry and Ginny decided to stir up their own bit of trouble. They knew, for whatever reason, that Fred was irritable, so they took turns bouncing up to his room and tapping on the door, asking nonsensical questions, and stomping up and down the stairs. With each disturbance, Fred would shout and scream furiously, and Harry and Ginny would run away, howling with laughter.

Hermione thought it pointless to get involved, humorous as it may have been, and stayed by herself in the living room. She considered reading, but knew she'd find no peace and quiet while Harry and Ginny tortured Fred. She suddenly remembered her plan to enjoy the sunny weather, and skipped out to the garden, book in hand.

As she approached her favorite tree—the one with the greenest leaves and most shade—she squinted in confusion. There, nestled into her accustomed nook of tree roots, was Fred Weasley. Not only that—Fred Weasley reading a book. This was getting too strange.

Hermione walked up to him, half smiling, half annoyed that he'd taken her favorite reading place.

"Fred?" she asked. Like last night, he jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice.

"Blimey, Hermione!" he scolded in reply. "What did I tell you about that?"

"Sorry." She kneeled beside him. "Fred, are you reading?"

He looked up at her like she was an idiot. "I was, before you so rudely interrupted."

"But why?"

"I've got research to do," he said shortly, "and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't bother me like Harry and my nagging sister."

"I was just asking a question," Hermione said defensively. "You don't have to be so rude."

"You're the rude one. I was out here minding my own business until you barged in."

Hermione's mouth fell open in indignation. "Barged in? Please, Fred. You're sitting under a tree."

"Yes, and it was actually pretty nice before you showed up!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath and settled against the tree trunk. She forced herself to remember that Fred's lack of manners was most probably due to the potion, and she only had to endure it for a few days, at most.

"There's no reason why we both can't read here," she finally said.

Fred moaned in protest. "No! You don't understand! I'm actually doing real work!" He gestured to his book and a pad that he'd apparently been taking notes on. "You know, sometimes grown ups have to act like grown ups, Hermione! It can't all be fun and games and jokes! I have a business to run!"

Hermione stared in wonder. He continued chastising her, though she only caught every couple words due to his rapid pace of speech. Fred Weasley was going insane. There was no other explanation for it—he had to be losing his mind, right there in front of her. He was giving her a lecture about responsibilities and maturity, and she had no idea how to reason with him.

Hermione soon realized that there was no reasoning with him. He was a man possessed, and there was no room for logic in his argument. All the same, she was tired of listening to his rant, and really wished he'd just stuff it.

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione placed her hand on the side of Fred's face and leaned into him. Their lips met in a kiss—a heated contrast to the gentle pecks Fred had offered before. In her mind, Hermione rationalized that if she was going to do this, she would have to do it right. She had to take Fred so off-guard that he'd lose his tongue completely.

And, remarkably, he did. She felt the tension in Fred's body melt away as she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, he had a dazed, clouded look in his eyes, and he seemed unable to say a word.

"Hm," Hermione grunted amusedly. She stood up and brushed herself off. "I guess it really does work."