Note: So the following three interludes cover the time leading up to when Harry and Ron return. The first involves Hermione, George, and Fred's friendship. Most of these are funny, but there are a few serious conversation. I hope you enjoy this!
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While You Were Gone
Interlude 1/3
"A Trio of Intelligent Mischief"
A.H.R – After Harry and Ron
-o-o-o-o-o-
Random Day After Work
(A Couple Weeks A.H.R.)
"Maybe we should measure it again," Hermione suggested, fidgeting where she crouched. She was still dressed in her Auror trainee robes, having only arrived back twenty minutes prior. The twins had taken one of her arms each and pulled her right back outside, deciding it was time to put their plan into action. Her stomach growled and she wondered if there were any leftovers from the dinner Molly had made the night before.
"You already measured the distance three times," Fred reminded with a sigh.
"And if you do it again, we're sure to get caught," George told her, shaking his head. "Now, are you the brightest witch of her age or aren't you?" He didn't wait for her to reply before lifting his wand. "Right, so it's swish, swish, flick and a hard 'rrr' at the end, yeah?"
"No! No, flick, flick, swish," she told him, moving out to take hold of his hand and moving it up and down a notch. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's very powerful and not completely tested to it's limits."
"Those are the best kinds of spells," Fred told her, grinning. "Come on then, these gnomes won't rocket themselves out of their holes."
Sighing resignedly, Hermione moved with the two Weasley twins to kneel near the many holes dotting Mrs. Weasley's gardens. "On three," she said, her voice prim and her chin raised. As one they raised their wands.
"Fire--"
"In the--"
"Hole," Hermione screamed in anticipation. She couldn't pretend there wasn't a certain rush to these random pranks.
A loud bang echoed around them. Knocked off their feet, the three mischief makers watched as the Burrow shook dangerously and dozens of little gnome bodies flew high up in the air and in the direction of the house across the street. Most of them landed right in the holes they'd previously made in old Mr. Brewmeister's garden. Others landed on their heads and rolled awhile before getting to their feet and walking around dizzily.
Laughing, the twins and Hermione hurried up from the grass, looking on in proud astonishment. Hermione held her hands out to the side to which the twins slapped happily. Above her head, they clapped their hands together in accomplishment.
"That'll show him!" George said, smirking.
"Yeah, he won't be filling mum's garden up with his gnomes anymore," Fred agreed, nodding.
"And if he does, we can always turn the aim a bit to the left. Sunday tea will certainly be a riot then, won't it?" Hermione asked, her nose wrinkled in amusement.
Laughing, the three of them watched as Mr. Brewmeister came tearing out of his house, his suspendered pants pulled halfway up his chest and his arms waving around in dismay as he found himself with twice as many gnomes as he'd previously had. He'd been sneaking his pests over to Mrs. Weasley's garden so that he wouldn't have to deal with them anymore. Unfortunately for him, Hermione had noticed and mentioned it to the twins and hilarious revenge was certainly in order.
"What in Merlin's name did you three do? My house is a mess! What was all that shaking about? And there was a definite bang! What have you exploded this time then? Out with it!" Molly Weasley shouted as she hurried out of the house, red-faced and waving a spatula.
"We did it for you, mum!" the twins chorused.
"Did it for me, they say," she shrieked, shaking her head and waving her arm harder at them as she chased them around the yard, their laughter echoing behind them.
Amused, Hermione simply watched from the sidelines. She could still hear Mr. Brewmeister shouting at the gnomes to go away and that there were fresh carrots over at Mrs. Weasley's yard. The twins could easily outrun their mum or apparate if need be, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves running circles around their harried mother. Eventually, Molly got fed up and tossed her spatula at the nearest boy, catching him in the head. She was pretty sure it was George, and she shook her head as Fred immediately stopped, laughing so hard he was clutching his sides and fell to the side.
"Granger! George is down! Send in reinforcements," Fred cried between his cachinnating.
-o-o-o-o-o-
August 1997
(One Month A.H.R.)
"You ask her," George stage-whispered, nodding at Fred encouragingly. He shoved his brother forward, motioning to the petite brunette sitting at the desk and pretending to be engrossed by her reading instead of amusedly listening to them talk in not-so-hushed tones.
Fred sighed, exasperated and frowning at his brother for making him look like a fool who couldn't stand up without tripping. He glanced at Hermione, who was hiding her smile and had her eyes dutifully on the tome in front of her. In Ron's absence, she'd added a desk to his room so she could read and write up her Auror trainee reports in peace. The twins were regulars in the room, always coming in to listen to her tell them eagerly about her day of training. They were her biggest fans, it seemed, and she couldn't help but admit that she couldn't have managed without them. Some days it was hard to fathom walking into Ron's empty room, knowing that neither he nor Harry were inside. A whole month had passed without word or sight of them and she was worried that she'd never set eyes on them again. The twins kept her from falling into a pit of worry and despair, always armed with a joke or a story to keep her smiling and laughing. It seemed their humor was a life saver that she held fast to and never let go of. They were keeping her afloat and she'd grown a fast affection for the both of them.
"She's not deaf, brother o' mine. And I don't see why I have to bite the curse and ask. It was your idea," Fred replied, shaking his head.
"You agreed!" he said, his brows raising for emphasis. He was squirming in place and Hermione couldn't help but think they were being quite out of character. Usually they were the picture of mischief and confidence, but now they looked out of sorts and anxious. How peculiar...
"I--"
Fed up with waiting, Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Boys!" Hermione's voice interrupted their not-so-private conversation. "What d'you want to ask me?"
"Er..." they said simultaneously, looking to each other and then back at her. Suddenly, as if they hadn't been uncertain at all, they were smirking and looking at her with mischief in their blue eyes.
"'Mione dearest..." one of them drawled.
"We were just discussing a very important matter involving you," the other said, moving to wrap his arm around her shoulder.
"Oh?" she asked, lifting a suspicious brow.
"Mum has been extra coddling, lately, hasn't she?" one of them said, feigning a morose expression.
"Never gives you a moments peace," the other said, shaking his head with a sad sigh and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Always trying to get you to eat more."
"Talk more."
"Work less."
"Yes. But... she's only being a good mother," Hermione said, even if her expression betrayed how overwhelmed she was becoming with all the attention. "She does it because she cares."
The nodded, though their expressions were indifferent to her defense of their mother. "We were thinking, since it would be easier on you, and you know how much we care..."
"Might it be better if perhaps you... moved out of the Burrow?" They lifted their brows, looking both worried and encouraging.
Hermione's face widened with surprise. "Did she ask you to ask me? Does she not want me around any longer?" she wondered, looking stricken. She knew that perhaps she'd overstayed her welcome, but she really thought that Molly enjoyed having her there. She treated Hermione like a daughter; always checking to see how she was doing and eagerly awaiting the next update about work. She made her a lunch each morning and tried to feed her more than Hermione could fathom Ron eating each night at dinner. She was sure that Molly was making up for the two empty seats at the table by filling Hermione's plate with their servings. All in all, Hermione had thought Molly enjoyed having her around though.
The twins expressions fell immediately, replaced with worry. "Oh no!"
"Of course not! She would bite our heads off for the suggestion we're making," Fred assured, nodding quickly. They shifted on their feet, shadowing each other's movements, looking uneasy.
"And what is it you're suggesting?" Hermione asked, confusion marring her face.
"Move in with us. Into the apartment above the shop."
"You'd have your own room and lots of time to yourself," they assured.
"Oh," she said, surprise obvious in her expression. "But, er, why?" she couldn't help but ask. They had, of course, been wonderful to her. But living with them? She couldn't fathom why they'd offer. She figured they were only being extra nice to her out of pity. They'd been wonderful all the same, but she assumed it would end once she got a little more used to being without Harry and Ron. Living with them would make that hard. She'd have to see them every day, knowing that they wished they could take back the offer they'd made when they felt sorry for her having to live with their overzealous mother.
"Bit selfish on our part, we suppose, but we like having you around and we'd prefer it if we didn't have to go through mum just to see you."
"Love the woman but she's quite the handful ever since we moved out," Fred added, nodding with his brow cocked.
"This way, you'd be just down the hall." George motioned around the room, "It's not good to be surrounded by this reminder daily. It'll be better if you get out there and see the world a little more."
"I see the world every day. I'm an Auror. I'm never in one place for too long," she reminded, frowning. She knew they were right though. Her life consisted of going to work and then holing herself up in Ron's room. Except, of course, for the days that the twins managed to drag her from the room and out into the waiting world.
"You know what we mean, 'Mione," Fred said gently, moving to sit on the side of her desk, ruffling her papers unapologetically. "We miss 'em, too, but you shouldn't have to suffer for their idiocy."
"Yeah, we'll take care of you." George quickly added, "Not that you need takin' care of. Bright witch like you; independent and all that. Just thought it'd be nice though, yeah? Living with a couple of pranksters like us. You'll never tire of it! Keep you busy, tryin' to keep us in line," he offered, smirking.
"Trying being the operative word," Fred said, winking.
Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes. "I suppose it would be nice... Not that your mother hasn't been completely hospitable, of course."
"Of course," the twins agreed, teasing in their tone.
"I do think it might be better if I didn't have to see... this everyday," she said, motioning to the emptiness of the room. Ron's Chudley Cannon's posted hung crookedly on the wall and the room was splashed with an eye sore of orange and black all over. Hermione looked quite out of place in the still messy room. She hadn't touched a thing. Leaving every article of dirty clothing right where it was and not bothering to pick up the open magazines lying forgotten on the floor or make the bed that still had it's covers rumpled. She'd tripped over Harry's make shift sleeping bag on the floor, but she simply moved it back into place and learned to walk around it. It was as if she was waiting for them to return to it and didn't want to admit that it would be very long before they did.
"Might as well give in. Otherwise, we'll move all your things in the middle of night and you'll wake up in the apartment, disoriented and confused," Fred said, nodding sagely.
"Have to keep her locked up for awhile too. Make sure she doesn't escape and move back in with mum," George added, crossing his arms and getting an expression of deep concentration on his face. "How d'you suppose we'd be able to keep her captive? Brilliant witch, bloody quick with her wand... We'll need to plan this very carefully!" he said, nodding slowly, his brows high.
"All right, all right," Hermione said, chuckling. "No need for big schemes and poorly hidden flattery. I'll move in. But!" she exclaimed, lifting a hand and her brows for emphasis. "If, for any reason, we don't get along or you two want your flat just to be your own again, I want you to tell me! Don't worry about my feelings or your mum, just tell me. There's no need for us to get on each other's nerves unnecessarily and I'd rather us not loathe each other later. Promise?" she asked, staring at them sternly.
"On our brother Percy's morals!" they chimed, grinning.
"I have no idea whether that's good or not," she replied, her brow furrowed.
Laughing, they moved forward to hug her tightly. Sighing with resignation and no small amount of gratitude, she hugged the two pranksters back. Her new roommates were sure to be entertaining in future and she couldn't help but think that at least now she had something to look forward to.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A Random Day Off
(Visiting the Burrow)
"Did you put the charm on the toilet seat?" Hermione asked quietly, her eyes flickering to Fred beside her as she feigned innocence while watching Bill make his way toward the stairs. The entire Weasley clan, save Percy and Ron, were all lounging around the Burrow for a combined day off. The twins and Hermione were going to go spend it at the flat and watch movies all day, but Molly had promised treacle tart and they'd agreed to come over. Besides, it was the perfect time for a little revenge.
"Just like you told me to," he agreed nodding. He was turned toward George and as soon as his rely was finished, the twins continued on in their conversation as if they hadn't paused to talk about their prank.
"You're sure it won't take too long?" George wondered, keeping his eyes solely on his brother and not letting them venture to the stairs while suppressing the smirk that wanted to appear.
"As long as he's sitting down, it'll only take five minutes to hit maximum," Hermione said in her prim 'Of course I know what I'm doing' voice.
"He did just finish off mum's extra spicy chili. Five minutes is nothing." Fred grimaced. He tipped his head to one side, "What happens after five minutes?" he wondered curiously.
Hermione smirked. "It restarts." Her eyes lifted from the page, falling on Charlie across from them who was watching with thinned eyes, as if he knew something was amiss. They were probably being too quiet, she thought.
"Ouch," the twins chorused, both amused and sympathetic.
Time seemed to be going extra fast, so when they heard a stomp from upstairs, they forced their chuckles down. Another minute passed and a shout echoed from upstairs leaving them visibly hiding their faces. When the full five minutes was up, Bill could be heard cursing and screaming from above and their faces were red with stifling their laughter. Poor Bill was forced through it three times before he was finally finished in the bathroom and came stomping down the stairs, his belt still undone in his haste. Knowing that they were about to be hexed or cursed, the three hopped up from the couch in a fit of laughter. They rushed out the door, feet taking them as fast as they could, dodging Bill's hexes as they came at them.
"Bloody brilliant, 'Mione," George huffed next to her as they managed to hide in the woods outside of the Burrow property.
"I thought so," she said proudly. When the twins had asked her to help them put together a prank to get back at Bill for one he'd pulled on them a week prior, Hermione had agreed only because Bill's prank had turned on her too. It had taken her some time, but she'd put together a spell that would send a spark up through the toilet seat to anybody who was sitting on it. It would start out as just a small tingle and slowly the feeling would become more noticeable until finally, the seated would receive a sharp zing to their backside. She could certainly understand Bill's outrage, but her pride in her spell overpowered that and she decided, perhaps joining the twins in their pranking would be a future venture she wouldn't mind so much.
"Devilish woman," George said smirking. "You were always meant to be mischief's mistress, I reckon."
Grinning, Hermione shrugged, secretly happy that she could prank with the best of them.
"You know who else ate mum's chili?" Fred asked, suddenly sounding quite worried.
George and Hermione turned to him, their brow's furrowed.
"Mum," he told them fearfully.
"YOU THREE HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET YOUR ARSES BACK HERE AND TAKE THIS CHARM OFF THIS TOILET SEAT OR SO HELP YOU MERLIN!" they heard Mrs. Weasley scream from the house.
Wincing, they scurried out of the woods faster than they'd run to them.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Mid-August, 1997
Hermione walked past the half open door leading to Fred's bedroom, her mouth set in a frown and her brow furrowed in annoyance. She'd been hearing a persistent bang for the last half hour and it was driving her mental. It was her day off and she'd been trying to read in her bedroom but the patterned banging was slowly pushing her into a very bad mood. George was downstairs working the shop and Fred was supposed to be there too, but she could see the end of his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. One of his toes stuck out of a hole in his very colourful and striped socks. She stifled a smile and pushed open the door to see what he was doing, readying herself to shout at him. He was tossing a small bouncy ball at the roof, catching it with his left hand and then tossing it to his right to throw right back up again. Seeing the morose expression on his face, her thoughts of shouting at him disappeared entirely. Instead, she moved across the floor and climbed up onto his bed beside him, laying on her back and staring up at the light blue ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"I'm not in the mood," he said, his tone dull and flat.
"I wasn't aware there was a mood for lying next to a friend," she replied, matching his tone.
He turned and looked at her, his brow furrowed, but she refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on the ceiling. With a sigh, he returned his concentration to tossing the ball. Up it went, smacking into the roof and then it fell at an alarming speed, right into his large palm, only to be passed over to his other hand and the pattern repeated itself. She let him do it four times before she reached out and caught it, tossing it as hard as she could out the door. Instead of being angry with her like she expected, he laughed. She turned to look at him in confusion, only to find a large smile on his face. "I figured you'd only make it to five, six tops," he explained.
Snorting lightly, she rolled her eyes and returned to laying beside him, staring at the roof. "D'you want to talk about it?"
He didn't reply right away, moving to lay a little closer, his head brushing against hers. She wondered briefly why when she smelled the familiar scent of sandalwood her stomach did a flip. George smelled of mints and oranges, but she found Fred's more woodsy scent somehow comforting. It reminded her of early mornings; of fresh cool air and sunrises. She didn't have the faintest idea what that meant, she just knew that she had to restrain herself from turning and inhaling deeply.
"D'you think I'm a bad brother?" he asked suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts.
"What? No! Of course not. Why?" she asked, flabbergasted.
Once again, he kept quiet for a while, seeming to think it all over, as if gathering all the facts to prove that he was a bad sibling. "A boy came into the shop, 'round Ginny's age, give or take a year. He struck up a conversation with George while I was stocking the shelves. He was funny, kind of thickheaded, but a nice enough chap. Wanted to play a prank on a girl he fancies. I dunno... he just reminded me of Ron," he said, shrugging with a small sigh. "I don't understand why he thought he couldn't talk to us. I mean, I know I'm not the most serious bloke. But... I would've listened. He wasn't the only one who faced death and losses in the war. We're all a bit turned around after everything." He paused and Hermione didn't say anything, knowing he was still struggling to admit something. "Sometimes I didn't want to be at the Burrow either; surrounded by everybody as they pretended everything was just normal. But I had George and now I have you. I thought if Ron or Harry were really messed up, they'd know they could talk to me and George. About anything..." She could hear the anguish and anger in his voice, though he tried hard to conceal it. "Maybe if I'd been a little more serious with him..."
"That's not it Fred. You shouldn't blame yourself for his... ridiculousness," she told him, agitated. "You're a great brother and he should have known that despite your clownishness, you were there for him if he needed to talk. Even before we were good friends, I knew that you would do anything for Ron. Unless it was outright stupid."
"I knew he was uncomfortable though. And instead of pushing him to talk about it, I just teased him," he admitted, his face clouding with self loathing.
"It's how you are!" she said, sounding almost defensive.
He turned to frown at her, looking hurt.
"I didn't mean it like that," she said, wincing. "I mean, that's how siblings are. You deal with emotion and the hard things by joking about them. You were trying to pull him out of his funk with humor. Nobody can blame you for that! Especially not Ron. I'm sure it was comforting, in some way, knowing that you hadn't changed. That you'd always be there to make him laugh and cheer him up."
"Then why didn't it help?" he wondered, looking at her pleadingly, as if she had all the answers. "Why didn't he bounce back like the rest of us? I mean, I know we're all still scarred but none of us ran off and left our families and friends in the dust!" he said, his voice raising in anger.
She inhaled deeply and then let it out in a huffy sigh; angered with her two friends for leaving so much pain in their wake. "He and Harry were just... not thinking. They were confused and hurt and they seem to think they need a vacation. It wouldn't have mattered what you did or said, they wanted to get away from it all. It wasn't just you and George, it was all of us. For some reason, we weren't enough." She shook her head. "Maybe we weren't saying the right things or maybe there wasn't a right thing to be said. In the end, they just decided that we weren't enough." Her face darkened, eyes becoming sad. "But that is no reason for you to doubt yourself as a brother," she told him, her voice taking on a ferocious edge. "You and George both are very good and caring people. You may try and cover it with jokes and humor, but I've seen that soft side of you, Fred Weasley, and if Ron didn't realize that you were there for him, then he must be blind!"
Fred turned, his eyes meeting hers, green and brown clashing in a match of pain and comfort. "Thanks 'Mione," he said quietly.
"No need to thank me," she said, shaking her head as she reached out and took his hand tightly in hers. "You and George have been helping me this whole time, it's only right that I return the favor."
"You're stuck with us now," he warned teasingly.
Rolling her eyes and smiling, she shrugged a shoulder. "I suppose it's not the worst thing in the world."
Holding hands still, the two of them returned to staring at the roof for no particular reason. They weren't sure how much time passed in a comfortable silence, but eventually George found them and instead of teasing them, climbed onto the bed on the opposite side of Hermione, taking up her other hand. Surrounded by the scent of sandalwood, mint, and orange, Hermione sighed. There was a certain sense of content that came along with the Weasley twins and she knew that while she missed Ron and Harry terribly, she'd found a place with Fred and George. A home, of sorts.
"Whose turn is it to make dinner?" Fred wondered awhile later.
"Hermione's!" George replied immediately, louder than necessary.
"You always say it's my turn and it never is!" she said, shaking her and frowning at him.
"Fine! It's Fred's. But I'm not eating another bowl of mash and corn. I want real food. No more side dishes just mixed together! I'll throw a protest; with signs, marching and rhyming chants!" he exclaimed, raising his index finger emphatically.
"How's pizza sound?" Fred asked, unaffected by George's announcement.
"I could enjoy that," Hermione said, nodding.
"With pineapple?" George said hopefully.
Smiling, Fred and Hermione looked at each other. "What will you do if we say no?" they asked simultaneously.
"I'll protest! With marching!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "And--"
"Signs and rhyming chants, we know. But who will march with you?" they wondered, lifting brows.
"It's weird when you two do the twin thing," he told them, frowning. "And I feel left out. We need a fourth!" he told them, nodding decisively.
"No way!" Fred said, shaking his head. "Add another girl and all hell will break loose!"
"Who said it had to be a girl?" his brother wondered, his brows knit.
"It'd only be fair. I'm outnumbered as it is," Hermione put in, nodding. "I'd like to have a girl around to chat with. Although, that would strain things... Can you imagine? Luna Lovegood or Parvati Patil," she suggested, chucking. "Maybe Lavender Brown would better suit us?"
Shuddering, the twins sat up quickly. "No!" the shouted dramatically, before turning to Hermione with overdone expressions of adoration. "You know you're the only girl for us, 'Mione dearest."
"Oh honestly!" she said, rolling her eyes and climbing off the bed. "Well..." she said, tapping her foot. "The pizza won't get itself!"
"We love you too!" they chimed, following her out of the room.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A Random Wednesday
"D'you think they'd put a 'Reserved' sign up at this booth if I asked them?" George wondered, leaning back and scanning the menu in front of him. They were back at the wizarding restaurant they frequented every Wednesday since she'd moved in with the twins. The waitresses knew them by name and while they always scanned the menu, they could recite it if need be.
Hermione shrugged her shoulder, sipping her soda through the straw. "It's unlikely. Besides, we've never had trouble getting this booth before. Why d'you want a sign?"
"I just enjoy marking my territory," he told her winking. "I'd piss on it, but we have to eat here once a week."
Choking on her drink, Hermione took the offered napkin to wipe her mouth while glaring at the laughing Weasley across from her. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she accused.
Smiling, he nodded. "Ya think Fred is jealous that you spend every Wednesday lunch with me?" he wondered, lifting a hinting brow that she didn't appear to notice.
"Why would he be?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling in confused. She put the menu to the side, her decision made. "Besides, he's the one who told Verity she could have every Wednesday off." She shrugged, frowning slightly.
"We could close the shop up for an hour and all go to lunch together," he reminded, motioning to the waiter that they were ready to order.
"Mid-afternoon on a Wednesday?" she said, lifting a brow. "It's one of your busiest times. I should know, I looked over your books last quarter, remember?"
"True," George said, smiling. "Fine. We'll leave him to his misery then. But if I have to put up with his whining about my taking your attention away, you better believe I'm sending him to mope in your room."
"Like he wasn't going to show up in my room anyway. He's been extra needy lately, have you noticed?" she asked, lifting her soda up to her mouth once more.
"Probably just needs to get laid. Maybe you should help him," George replied, smirking as she spat out her drink again. Wednesdays were always fun.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A Weasley Dinner
"So, Charlie, tell us, how's work been? Any nice new keepers?" Molly Weasley asked, her brows raised expectantly as she dished out some macaroni salad onto her plate.
"Translation: Have any women joined the reserve recently?" George said, lifting a teasing brow.
"And are they smart, attractive, and worthy?" Fred added, nodding before he filled his mouth with potatoes.
"And should she break out the wedding planner she's had stashed away just for you?" Hermione finished, before sipping her pumpkin juice.
Molly frowned at them but before she could say anything, Charlie replied, "Two new women, one's married, one's far too old, neither of them are interested and the feeling's mutual. Plus, the older one has a mole the size of Ginny's head right on her chin. It's very distracting." He shrugged, as if it were everyday conversation. "How's the shop?" he asked, looking over at the twins.
"Fine!"
"Fantastic!"
Hermione swallowed quickly and added, "Fabulous!" She turned to Fred, "I was a half-second late on that one."
"Don't worry. You're getting the hang of it," he assured.
She nodded, but still frowned over her miss.
"Did Ginny tell you she went in and got her shopping done for her last year?" Molly asked, beaming with pride. "Oh, I can't believe it's her last year. It's just so... so..." Her eyes filled with happy tears and Ginny sighed, slumping down in her seat.
"Mum," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Not true. This'll be the first graduation since Percy, after all," one of the twins reminded, shrugging.
"Three failures for sons, how ever does she manage?" the other said in a mock dramatic voice.
"Technically, Ron was awarded an honorary graduate degree." Hermione took the bowl offered to her by Arthur and added a few beets to her plate before looking over at Fred's vegetable free plate and frowning to herself. In all the time she'd lived with him, both he and George had been unhealthily lax on eating vegetables. She practically had to force feed them anything healthy. Scooping up a bit, she glanced over to see if Fred would notice if she just pushed a few onto his place, right beside his potatoes.
"Don't even think of it," his voice interrupted her thoughts, before he turned to look at her. "I hate beets."
"Yes, well, sometimes we have to eat things we don't like," she replied, lifting a challenging brow.
Sighing in exasperation, he shook his head sadly. "'Mione, I had salad like..."
"Three days ago," she said, wrinkling her nose. "And now you'll eat beets and I won't bother you for another three days."
"Liar," he accused, his mouth pouting. "You never sneak food onto George's plate."
"That's because he always-- For the last time, George Weasley, stop feeding your vegetables to Crookshanks!" she half-shouted across Fred to her other best mate.
"He likes them!" George defended.
Sniffing, Hermione rolled her eyes. "He'll eat just about anything. Now eat your carrots or you'll get no ice cream when we get home."
"Oh but it's strawberry," he whined, her brows furrowing with annoyance. "I'll just eat it while you're sleeping," he murmured to himself.
"You will not!" she told him, waving her finger across at him.
Fred sat back, amused as Hermione leaned over him to chastise his twin.
George stuck his tongue out at her, glaring. "See if I save you the last cookie again. It's going to Fred next time!"
"You gave her the last cookie?" Fred replied, suddenly frowning. "But I always get the last cookie!"
"Now see what you've done!" George exclaimed.
"Well if you'd just eaten your vegetables..."
"Are they always like this?" Bill wondered, lifting a brow.
"Better this then when they're getting along. I swear, they were geniuses with their pranks before, but with Hermione added into the mix I'm always suspicious," Ginny replied, shaking her head.
"Hermione, did you bring your casserole?" Charlie interrupted their little fight.
"Of course, Charlie, it's on the counter," Hermione told him, leaning back from Fred to tell him.
"What's wrong with my casserole?" Molly wondered, looking up at him as he hurried into the kitchen, grinning like a little boy after sweets.
"Nothin'. Just nice to have a change is all," he replied, looking wary as he picked up the casserole and turned to his mother with an innocent expression. "You know all your meals top everyone else's mum. Nothin' to worry about."
"Like you didn't give 'Mione the last muffin," George accused, pointing at his brother.
"It was sitting there all day and you still hadn't eaten it. I didn't want it to go to waste, and we all know 'Mione loves banana-nut muffins. Not my fault you put it off!" Fred replied huffily.
"Did you know that?" Bill asked, looking at Charlie.
"Nope. You?" he asked, turning to Ginny.
"Wasn't something I noticed, no," she replied, shrugging.
"You just want her to like you better!" George half-shouted.
"She already likes me better!" Fred replied.
"I'd like you both the same if you just ate your vegetables," Hermione exclaimed, glaring.
"FINE!" they said, turning to their dishes, muttering under the breath and stuffing their mouths full of beets and carrots. They turned, opening their mouths and showing her.
Making a disgusted expression, she nodded. "Fine," she said. The table was quiet for a long moment before Hermione added. "And we're actually out of ice cream, Fred, remind me to pick some strawberry up for George."
"We'll need more muffins too," Fred replied, nodding. "Get the variety pack. It's got banana-nut for you and blueberry for George."
"And chocolate chunk cookies," George said after swallowing his carrots. "Oh, and milk. Drank the last of that before we left."
"I hope you used a glass," Hermione said, looking over at him and frowning.
"It was the last gulp, I figured it was pointless to make more dishes," he replied, his expression feigning innocence.
"We'll go shopping after we're done here," Hermione decided, cutting up her roast beef.
"I get to push the cart!" the twins exclaimed. They turned to each other, glaring.
"George, you know you love to ride on the end of the cart while Fred pushes it," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
The twins shrugged agreeably.
"Can we get chocolate syrup this time?" George wondered hopefully.
"You know how you are when you have chocolate syrup," Fred said, shaking his head with raised brows.
"Right, Fred and I could barely keep up," Hermione objected, sighing. "The streaking down the road was bad enough, but when you tried to invite those three girls back to the flat with promises of chocolate and strawberries, well... I can't say it's something I'm looking forward to putting up with again."
"It won't be the same, I swear," George told them, his brows furrowing and his mouth pouting.
"I'm afraid I agree with Hermione," Fred said exhaling heavily. "How about a chocolate bar instead?" he offered, smiling hopefully.
"You guys suck. I hate you!" he muttered, glaring at his food as he pushed it around with his fork.
"Well that was just uncalled for. Apologize to your brother!" Hermione told him, her voice scathing.
"No!"
"Well that's it. You're not coming shopping with us. You can stay at home and pout," she told him, turning away and picking up her drink.
"That's not fair!"
"Stop fighting with her," Fred told him, his voice lower than natural. "I'll convince her you should still come shopping, but no chocolate syrup."
"You always take her side!" George muttered crossly.
"You didn't have to drag a half naked me out of a tree, did you?" he asked, his brows lifting. George didn't reply right away, so Fred repeated, "Did you?"
"No," he admitted, rolling his eyes.
"Exactly. So no chocolate syrup."
"Fine."
"Good. Now apologize."
"Bu--"
"Apologize." Fred reiterated, louder now.
George stayed quiet a moment in rebellion before sighing. "I'm sorry 'Mione. I don't hate you."
Hermione didn't say anything, continuing to eat.
"Really, I am. I could never hate you. You're Hredge!"
"How many times have I told you that makes me sound like a lawn tree?" she replied, frowning.
"Many," George said, grinning. He tipped his head, looking at her pleadingly. "D'you forgive me?"
"No."
"I'll rub your feet," he promised, his brows lifting.
"You will not," she accused, shaking her head.
"Fine. But Fred will!"
"He would anyway, what does that have to do with me forgiving you?"
"It was worth a shot," he said, shrugging. "Just forgive me already. You know you will anyway."
Sighing, she shrugged. "Fine. I forgive you."
"Good. Now all we need is some strawberry ice cream and chocolate syrup and we're set." He rubbed his hands together excitedly.
"No chocolate syrup!" Fred and Hermione told him simultaneously.
"Fine," he muttered scowling.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A Random Evening At Home
Fred could hear the quiet sobbing coming from her bedroom and looked over to George across from him, his twin's expression mirroring his own. They stood up from their seats in the living room, putting away their Quidditch mag and work papers. Steps in sync, they walked toward Hermione's bedroom, hands raising to knock fluidly against her door. Her crying quieted and they wondered if she'd let them see her naturally or throw up a magical mask to hide the evidence of her sorrow. The door opened a crack and they knew that she had simply flickered her wand at it. Pushing it open, they popped their heads inside to see her sitting in the center of her large bed, a pillow clutched against her chest and tears still streaming down her face.
"'Mione?" George asked, his brows raising with concern.
"W-What did I do wrong?" she asked, her eyes staring down at the blanket, mouth shaking with her sadness. "Why didn't they w-wake me o-or wait and a-ask me to c-come?" she stuttered, sniffling.
Looking to each other, the twins sighed before crossing the room and crawling across her bed to sit on either side of her. Taking one of her hands each, they held it tightly and leaned against her shoulders, heads bowed toward hers.
"You didn't do anything wrong," George told her quietly, squeezing her hand.
"They probably knew that with you there they wouldn't be able to wallow and whine. You'd force them to face the world and what it had become." Fred nuzzled her head, sighing against her hair. "Like you said, love, they were being ridiculous. Selfish and consumed with themselves. There was nothing to be said or done, they made the choice on their own."
"The figured you were stronger than them." George nudged her shoulder. "They're wimps compared to you, 'Mione. While you were out there becoming an Auror, they were lounging in the backyard, talking about Quiddtich. Probably figured they'd be disrupting your life."
Shaking her head, Hermione snorted angrily. "Well they never cared about that before. When they needed help with their homework or the smarts to defeat whatever else Voldemort threw at them, they never hesitated in getting my help. But when they were scared or stifled or whatever they were, they never considered how much it would hurt to just up and leave me behind." She sighed loudly, swallowing tightly. "A lousy note was all I was worth and now they don't reply to any of my letters. What did I ever do to deserve that?" she asked, the hurt still evident in her voice. "Would..." She paused, not entirely sure if she should continue. Finally, she sighed softly and asked meekly, "Would you write to me if you did what they did? I mean now, not then. Then we weren't nearly as close. But if you needed to leave, felt as if you needed a break, would you reply to my letters?" she asked, looking back and forth from them.
"We wouldn't leave you," they replied sincerely. "You're part of us now, 'Mione, there's no getting out of that. Where we go, you go."
Eyes littered with tears, she bit her lip and nodded. "Thank you."
"No gratitude needed, we accept all fantastic meals," they said cheekily.
She laughed, the sound a little choked with emotion. Squeezing their hands, she inhaled deeply. "No, really. You have no idea what you both mean to me."
"As much as you mean to us," George assured, nodding.
Smiling appreciatively at them, she leaned back against the headboard of her bed. Fred put his head on her shoulder, hands still entwined with hers in his lap, while George's chin sat atop her curls, his arm wrapped around hers. They sat in silence awhile, content in the fact that the sadness and anger made by the departure of Ron and Harry had at least caused some good. There was a bond between the three that had never been quite fathomable in the past. Connected as they were now, they weren't sure it could ever change back.
"Seriously though, d'you think you could make dinner? I'm starving," Fred said a few minutes later.
"I second that," George agreed.
Hermione chuckled, amusement and adoration for the Weasley twins filling her.
-o-o-o-o-o-
An Afternoon After Work
"Sit still," Hermione admonished. George was squirming beside her as she tried to apply sunblock to his back so he wouldn't burn. "Your brother wasn't this squirmy," she told him, rolling her eyes as he shifted, sighing exasperatedly.
"That's because he was sitting between your legs and you were practically massaging it into his back," George told her, amusement clear in his voice. "Hurry up, 'Mione. I want to get in the water," he whined petulantly.
"I was not massaging him," she replied, her voice raising with indignation.
Fred was currently lazing about beside her, his head on her thigh and his body sprawled across the checkered blanket beneath them. They were laying beneath the shade of an umbrella, Hermione having finally convinced them to spend an afternoon by the ocean. They used portkeys and apparition to take them to a beautiful sandy beach, beautiful water spread as far as they could see. "There," she told him, slapping his shoulder for emphasis.
"Finally," he sighed, jumping up from the blanket and running towards the water like an excited child.
"Think he'll jump right in or check it first?" Fred asked, lifting his head and holding himself up on his arm.
"Jump," Hermione decided, her eyes thinned with thought.
Fred watched as his brother slowed in his steps, but eventually ran right through the water. He ran until it reached his knees, dived and then came up sputtering, arms wrapped tight around himself and a shocked expression on his face. Chuckling, Fred shook his head. "Guess it was colder than he expected."
"Caution isn't one of the Weasley attributes. It's usually headfirst or not at all," she said, sighing lightly and leaning back on the blanket, her arms propped up to keep her high enough to see George treading water. His attention was soon taken by a beautiful and tanned girl walking along the surf and he quickly got over his shivering to try and woo her.
Rolling onto his back, Fred moved his head to lay on Hermione's stomach and dug his feet into the sand as his legs reached off of the blanket.
"What book did you bring?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
"What makes you think I brought a book?" she replied, lifting a brow.
He snorted, shaking his head, his hair tickling her stomach. "You bring a book everywhere."
"Fine. It's a new one, about Voldemort's defeat. I thought I'd see how it was written from someone else's point of view," she told him, shifting on her arms and enlarging a pillow so she was propped up.
"How is it so far?"
"Bad. They tend to make it sound like the Ministry knew all along and that everything turned out as they planned," she told him, disgust ringing in her voice.
Fred nodded, not surprised. After a few moments of silence, he broke it by saying, "You could always write it. The truth, that is. Nothing left out. You could interview people too, get them to tell you how they felt and what happened on their end. Like Ginny and what it was like at Hogwarts."
She didn't reply right away, but when she sat up, he was forced to move with her, his body turning over and his head landing in her lap again. "That's brilliant," she told him, her eyes glimmering with excitement.
"I was always the underestimated genius of the family," he told her grinning.
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. Her hand reached out, running through his hair appreciatively. "The Ministry might even ban it!" she exclaimed, looking even more excited.
Laughing, Fred shook his head, sitting up and moving to put his arm around her shoulders. "I can see it now. The headline will read: Hermione Granger Tells All, And Gets the Book Thrown At Her By The Ministry," he said, smirking.
Hermione smiled, nudging him in his side before leaning her head on his shoulder. "You sure you can handle me writing a book? I'll be frazzled and harried all the time. Always worried and uncertain."
"Right... So what makes that different about every other day?" he asked cheekily.
Scoffing, Hermione pushed him so hard he fell over, causing her to laugh at him. "Not so strong now, are you Weasley?"
Smirking, Fred stood up. "Care to test it, Granger?" he asked. Before she could reply, he swooped down and picked her up in his arms. She kicked and squirmed, trying to get out of his arms, but he ran towards the water, his arms wrapped too tight for her to get out of. As he reached the surf, he didn't slow down, running right through until it swamped him around his waist and cooled her back, pulling a shout of shock from her. Laughing at her face of indignation and warning, he threw her forward, smirking at the splash she made. Within seconds, she had leapt on his back and yanked him down beneath the water with her.
They spent the next hour chasing each other around the water, dunking one another and having splash wars. Eventually, as the sun set in the distance, they climbed out of the water, sand quickly latching on to their soaked feet. Falling onto the blanket next to each other, their breathing was heavy and smiles sat imprinted on their faces.
Turning to her with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, Fred smirked before wrapping his cold, wet arms around her and rolled them off the blanket, laughing against her shoulder as the hot grains of sand attached to her back and legs. "FRED WEASLEY!" she exclaimed.
"Look at you. On your back and shouting my name," he teased, amusement clear in his face.
Lifting a brow, Hermione laughed, surprise at his outrageous comment in her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. My shout was of disappointment, not fulfillment," she returned haughtily.
"We'll have to work on that," he replied. As her hand reached out to slap his shoulder, he quickly grabbed it, his fingers tangling with hers. Her other hand followed suit and he repeated the process before he was holding her hands above her head, head bowed close to hers.
"'Mione?" George's voice could be heard calling out, sounding rather pouty. "I'm hungry," he whined.
Chuckling, Fred dropped his head to rest on her chest. "We'll have to continue this later," he said, winking up at her.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head before lifting her body so suddenly it threw him off. She smiled at the thud he made and the groan that escaped him. "In your dreams, Weasley," she said, before standing up and brushing the sand off her body. "Come on, George, we'll get you something to eat from that stand over there."
"Wait for me," Fred said, jumping up from the ground and chasing after them. "Oi! 'Mione, d'you know a spell to get sand out of... er, uncomfortable places?" Her laughter trailed back to him, echoed by George's.
-o-o-o-o-o-
An Outing
"Did you see that, Forge?" Fred exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
"I did, Gred!" his twin replied, just as jubilantly. "You, 'Mione?"
"Er, yes, it was... fascinating," she replied, lifting her eyes from the book held in her hands and directing her gaze to the game ahead of her. This was the first Quidditch game of the season and they'd convinced her it was a fantastic idea to go, despite the fact that she really didn't care for the game.
"You were reading again, weren't you?" Fred accused, tisking and shaking his head while his eyes were still centered on the flying wizards and withes playing brilliantly before them.
"Of course not," she denied, shaking her head. "I was admiring the skill and cunning of the game!"
The twins exchanged amused looks and then turned back to her. "Who's playing?" they asked, lifting their brows questioningly.
Looking up at them, her face a mirror of innocence, she mumbled nonsense and smiled, hoping they'd excuse her folly. "You know, that team. That really good one against that not as nearly good one."
"Appleby Arrows versus the Montrose Magpies," they chorused, sighing at her inattentiveness.
Frowning, she closed the book. "My apologies. But it isn't as if you glow with excitement when I suggest going to a bookstore," she replied exasperatedly.
"Books and Quidditch are completely different. One involves fierce dedication and hard work while the other needs good lighting and a comfortable seat," George told her, crossing his arms over his chest. "The least you could do is watch. The tickets weren't free, you know." His eyes widened with emphasis.
"Yes they were," she replied, lifting a brow. "Wood gave them to you!"
"Fine, they were. But that's not the point!" Moving to sit next to her, George wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Do you know all the fine points of Quidditch, 'Mione?"
"I remember your lecture on it, George," she said, rolling her eyes. "I can list the equipment, tell you the basics and even remember the names of your favorite players. That doesn't mean I enjoy it."
"You could if you tried," George huffed, frowning. "I promise I'll read a book of your choice if you pay attention to the rest of the game," he offered, his eyes thinning as he propositioned her.
"You liar," she said, shaking her head. Still, with a sigh, she dropped her book onto her seat and moved to stand next to Fred, George following to flank her other side. "Because this is important to you and Wood went out of his way to make sure there were three tickets, I suppose I could pay a little more attention."
Simultaneously, their arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist. "Good. You won't regret it."
An hour later, with the constant play-by-play and explanations of Fred and George, Hermione found herself enjoying the game a little more. Without Ron and Harry playing, she was sure that it wouldn't interest her in the least. She had nobody to support or really root for, but the twins offered their favorite players and explained with statistics and past game references why they were the better player. By the end of the game, she could be shouting alongside the twins for Aladair Maddock, their favorite chaser on the Montrose Magpies. Cold bottles of butterbeer in their hands, they raised them in triumph as the seeker caught the golden snitch, winning the game for the Magpies with a landslide.
"So?" Fred asked, his arm slung around her waist as they made their way out of the stadium. George was chatting up a witch, walking backwards and appearing just as cocky and confident as any championship Quidditch player. "How'd you like it then?"
"It was better than I thought," she replied, nodding acceptingly.
"This mean you'll be joining us for future games?" he asked, lifting a brow.
"I may be persuaded in future," she said, shrugging non-committally.
"Wouldn't be the same without you," he said sincerely.
Hermione smiled, feeling a sense of comfort envelop her. Despite any differences, she belonged here; with Fred and George.
With a noise of triumph, George hopped into place on Hermione's other side and threw his arm around her shoulders. "Now about that book, 'Mione. I was just kidding 'bout that," he told her, smiling winningly.
Snorting, she shook her head. "Have you ever read Hogwarts: A History, George?" she asked, smirking.
A/N I'm off for the weekend. Birthday party (it's a Luau!) for my best friend tomorrow. Have to cook up all the food for it tonight. Sunday will be a day of relaxation, so I'll probably finish up that chapter of The Werewolf Tamer. Hope you enjoyed this!
Thank you for reading! Please review, it's greatly appreciated!
Much Love,
-Amanda