Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is awesome - I don't own anything.
Chapter 2
Death would be a far more pleasant alternative to going into work today, thought Hermione.
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"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?'
"Veritaserum combined with an inverse love po- ow! Stop hexing me, Hermione!"
"I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS – YOU NO GOOD, IMBECILIC, ARROGANT-"
"I think it's worn off, Fred,"
"I'd – ow! I said stop hexing me! – I'd agree with you there, George."
"-BLOODY, FOUL-SMELLING SWINES, PATHETIC EXCUSES FOR-"
"I think it still needs work though, George. What's the point of a lust-revealing philter if the person sounds so very clinical and uninter- Merlin's sake, Hermione, can't you hex George as well!?"
"She knows I'm the nicer twin, far more handsome and- ow! Hermione! I can't believe Ginny taught you that one, traitor sister!"
"-WILL FEED BOTH YOUR MANHOODS TO THE GOATS SO HELP ME-"
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Yes, death. It was clear. Tea and cake with the Weasley twins as they sorted out this whole shrinking sweet mess, or death: anyone in their right mind would choose death. Hermione groaned and pulled her pillow over her head, trying to block out the voice of Petroc Trelawny on BBC Radio 3's breakfast show. Shostakovich before 9am was always a bad idea.
She'd been so mortified she hadn't even bothered to respond to their owl saying they'd pop in to St. Mungo's to clear everything up with Anaxos. She wasn't sure which was worse, the twins knowing that she fancied and fantasized about them, or that they knew that she liked to...to masturbate. She couldn't even think the word without blushing. Well, so much for visiting the Burrow ever again.
After showering and eating breakfast, Hermione marched over to her wardrobe and fished out her oldest and tattiest Healer's robe, which was now a slightly dingy lime green. It was meant to go to Mrs. Weasley so she could turn it into patches for a quilt, but it would be useful for today's encounter. She drew out a beat up pair of old shoes as well and tied her hair back roughly without bothering to brush it. She checked herself in the mirror and winced. Her hair was a mess and the robes looked truly awful. She hadn't become vain since leaving Hogwarts, but she did enjoy looking polished and professional. However, she thought to herself, squaring her shoulders and glaring sternly at her reflection in the mirror, best to send a very clear signal to the twins today. With that thought in mind, she scooped up her purse, kissed Crookshanks goodbye, and apparated to the reception area of St. Mungo's.
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"Ron!? What are you doing here?"
The lanky redhead turned, raising his eyebrows as he took in Hermione's appearance. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
"Sorry, bad morning," Hermione huffed. "But seriously, what brings you to St. Mungo's? No one's hurt, are they?"
"No, no – I'm here for the twins. They told me what happened to the Spavin boy and I asked if I could be the Auror assigned to investigate." He smiled and stooped slightly to give her a one-armed hug.
Hermione gave Ron a tight smile in return and sighed inwardly. Even on a good day, she had a hard time being completely comfortable with Ron. They'd gotten together after the war but had broken up during their respective apprenticeships. It had been mutual and amicable, but Hermione still had trouble recapturing their easygoing friendship. She just couldn't ignore they'd been intimate, physically and emotionally, and it was hard to be around him without feeling echoes of the same feelings. Being in the same room with him and the twins would be great, juuuuust great.
Out of herself, Ron and Harry, Ron had changed the most after Voldemort's defeat. He'd finally grown into his frame and his resemblance to Bill was striking. He'd kept his goofy charm, but Auror training had sharpened his dry wit and toughened him up. Gone was the boyish awkwardness, replaced instead with an aura of confidence.
"Well hello there, if it isn't our favourite test subject."
Hermione froze. She could feel the blush working its way up from her toes, could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She carefully extricated herself from Ron's hug, but remained with her back to the twins, forcing herself to breathe normally.
Ron gave her an odd look. "Uh, you okay 'Mione?"
"I'm fine," she ground out, "just fine." Slowly, she turned around, keeping her gaze averted. "Follow me," she growled, and stomped away without looking to see if they were indeed following. She led them past the Inquiries desk emblazoned with the crossed wand and bone, then down a white hallway to the lifts. As they stepped into an open one, Fred and George, whom she continued to ignore, inched around to stand behind Hermione, flanking her on either side. She stiffened as she sensed the body heat radiating from both of them. It also felt like the one on her left was blowing gently on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She nearly jumped when the lift panel coughed.
"Floor number, please," it asked in a tired-sounding voice.
"Fo- fourth floor," she managed to get out, her voice cracking partway through. Damn the twins. The lift lurched to the right and hands shot out on either side of her as she stumbled. They seemed to burn through her clothes where they gripped her arms.
"Steady, Hermione, wouldn't want to end up against a wall," snickered the one to her left. Fred, she thought.
"Or on the floor," added the other twin in a low voice by her right ear. Hermione's insides melted, heating with both lust and rage. Her breath hitched, and she alternated between wanting to kiss or smack them both senseless. But, the floor, oh God, the floor. She was definitely going to write about this in her diary later this evening.
Ron was facing her and she saw him frowning at the twins. "Have I missed something?" he asked, brow furrowed.
"Nope," replied the twins together, releasing her. Hermione could practically hear their oh-so-innocent expressions.
"It's nothing," snapped Hermione, feeling almost disappointed at the loss of contact. She pushed past Ron when the lift doors opened and led them down another white hallway past the Janus Thickey ward until they reached the central reception area. Anaxos was already there, flicking his wand to sort through the current patient files. He looked up when he heard their approach. His lips tightened almost imperceptibly at Hermione's disheveled appearance as he stepped around the counter, hand outstretched.
"Ah, Misters Weasley. Plivinius Anaxos, at your service sirs." Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes – no one would have guessed he'd been raging against the twins only yesterday. He certainly could lay on the charm when he wanted. She liked working with Anaxos though; he was dedicated to his work and honest to a fault. Seeing him kiss up to the Weasleys was ridiculous and somewhat nauseating. She could see Ron failing to hide a self-satisfied grin – he wasn't quite as different from Percy as he liked to believe
Greetings exchanged, Anaxos guided them to an office room, complete with steaming cups of tea and cakes from the fifth floor tearooms. The office doubled as a potions store cupboard and was rather cramped but had a carved wooden table with several bright pink velvet armchairs around it that clashed alarmingly with lime green Healers robes. Hermione often wondered if prolonged exposure to magic rendered wizards and witches colourblind, or if magical Britons simply had bad taste. She deliberately took a seat between Ron and Anaxos.
It wasn't until she sat down that Hermione dared to look at Fred and George, and only because they were busy listening to Anaxos reciting the details of the Spavin boy's condition. They were dressed in complementary powder blue and gold brocade robes with a swirling paisley pattern. Their cloaks were made of the same fabric and lined with gold tassels. George was wearing his charmed ear and Fred had magically extended his hair so they were identical, but Hermione was pretty sure the one on the left was Fred. She was again struck by how an outfit that would be described as fabulous, dahling in the muggle world was actually rather sexy in the wizarding world. Or maybe it was just the twins. As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, one of the twins – George, she thought – looked her way and winked. Hermione scowled fiercely, relieved that neither Ron nor Anaxos had noticed.
"So," Ron picked up when Anaxos finished, "you two had best tell us what you were developing so we can compare notes." He pulled an Auror edition quick quotes quill out of a pocket in his robes and set it on the parchment in front of him, snorting as Hermione fished out her notebook and pen. They'd had many lively debates about the merits of wizarding versus muggle devices and neither refused to deviate from their chosen implements. Harry sometimes joined the debates, but was more inclined to use magic than Hermione for everyday tasks.
"Well," began the twin Hermione was almost positive was George, "we started working on this idea in earnest about four months ago. We thought of it as a concept a while ago, but didn't actually do any research into it until early April. It's a slightly tricky one because it's a standard Diminutio charm, but triggered by eating a sweet instead of actually casting the spell with a wand, so you have to create a potion to reproduce the effects..."
George continued speaking, becoming more animated as he talked about the theory underpinning the sweet. Fred leaned back lazily in his chair, seeming content to let George do all the talking. His eyes flicked over to Hermione, catching her covertly studying him. He gave her a wolfish grin as his eyes raked over her. Hermione flushed and almost missed what George was saying.
"Wait – what was that last ingredient?" she asked, leaning forwards with interest.
"Uhh... powdered Grindylow teeth. Why, did we do something wrong?"
Both twins stared intently at Hermione, all mischief gone from Fred's eyes, as she sucked on the end of her pen and gazed pensively into space, brow wrinkling in concentration. She finally shook her head in puzzlement. "No, you did everything right – that's what doesn't make sense." She looked over at Anaxos for confirmation, Ron and the twins swiveling their heads to look at the healer as well. "What they've just described – that would have worked perfectly, wouldn't it?"
Anaxos nodded slowly, tapping his forefinger on his mustachioed upper lip. "Did you have an earlier version where you used the scale of a Ukranion Ironsnout instead of one from a Chinese Fireball?"
"No," said Fred vehemently. "The results would have been catastrophic, the shrinking would have occurred unevenly and..." he trailed off, understanding flashing across his features. "That's what caused this, isn't it? It's the exact same potion with one wrong ingredient, almost as if-"
"As if someone was brewing the potion and got it wrong," finished Ron.
"Oi, you're not supposed to finish his sentences – that's my job!" quipped George in mock indignation. Ron snorted. In spite of her anger and embarrassment Hermione almost laughed. Fred's eyes flicked her way again, a small smirk at the corner of his lips. Hermione dropped her gaze to her lap, frowning. "-need to check the shop, see if anything's been disturbed from the back rooms," George was saying.
"So," Ron theorised aloud, "someone just stole your potion recipe to make it themselves, didn't have the right sort of dragon scale on hand, and what, just used another one?" He blew out a breath in frustration. "That's just bloody stupid, makes no sense." He turned to Anaxos, "Do we know where the boy got this sweet – I mean, did he nick the recipe? Maybe he's got posh parents who happen to own most of the potion ingredients and he-"
"Oh honestly, Ron!" snapped Hermione. "Don't be daft – that's absurd."
"Who spit in your tea?" Ron asked, brows raised.
"Unfortunately," Anaxos shot Hermione a warning look from beneath his thick brows as he cut in, "the boy will likely be unable to answer those questions for a few more days. He's been administered several sleeping potions whilst he heals."
"Right," said Ron, standing and gathering up parchments and quill, "as far as I can see my brothers likely didn't have anything to do with this mess except for being absolutely pants at locking spells," Fred flashed Ron a rude gesture out of Anaxos' sight, "so I won't be filing a report about them and I'll ask that you," this last directed at Anaxos, "send me an owl when the boy wakes so I can ask him a few questions." He nodded to Fred, George, and Hermione, shook Anaxos' hand again and exited the office. Hermione stood as well, self-consciously smoothing her robes. Maybe she'd taken the wrong tack. Maybe she should have worn her regular robes to show she didn't care what the twins thought, wasn't at all affected by the previous night's events. Too late now; she fisted her hands in the sides of her robes to keep from fidgeting, very carefully not meeting Fred or George's eyes.
'Well, thank you for your visit," Anaxos was saying. "Your work is more fascinating than I would have credited. I might just pop in next time I'm in Diagon Alley, my niece will be attending Hogwarts next year."
"Make sure to say hello when you do, and we also have a shop in Hogsmeade if you're ever there."
"Hermione, would you show the Misters Weasley to the lifts? I'll meet you back here to discuss the day's patients."
Hermione pasted a fake smile onto her face. "Certainly" Anaxos frowned at her again, but she was already turning towards the door.
They were flanking her again, and following far too closely. She could once again feel the heat radiating from them. Staring straight ahead, she missed the look the twins shared before they both reached out and placed a hand on her shoulders. She froze, again feeling as if their hands were burning through her clothes.
"Hermione, wait-
"-we just wanted to let you know-
"-that we're very sorry. We never meant-"
"-to invade your privacy like that."
"We promise to forget the whole thing," they finished together. Hermione spun around, glaring. The one who she was almost positive was George actually looked apologetic; Fred looked anything but. She narrowed her eyes and considered for a long moment.
"Fine," she looked George in the eyes, "apology accepted." She turned towards Fred, "apology not accepted."
"What!?"
"Come back and apologize when you really mean it! Now, I think you two know perfectly well where the lifts are located, I'm going back to work." And with that, she marched off, leaving one twin staring after her in indignation and the other grinning smugly at his twin.
"Ha! Take that, Han Solo – told you she knows I'm the nicer-"
"Oh, shut it!"
Hermione found Anaxos waiting for her, hands clasped in front of him, lips twitching in disapproval underneath his mustache.
She sighed, "Forgive me, I've not been very professional this morning. I don't have a good reason, but I apologize."
Anaxos looked down at her sternly for a while longer before nodding in acceptance of her apology.
"If I may," Hermione began tentatively, "you seemed to have changed your mind about the Weasleys – yesterday you seemed keen on shutting them down. What changed?"
Anaxos cleared his throat self-consciously. "I may have been... somewhat hasty in forming my judgment. I reviewed the files on all the patients who had been treated for similar mix-ups with spelled sweets or joke items. Upon closer examination, none of them were in any way the Weasleys' fault. And speaking with them today was certainly fascinating. They are... impressively clever. Is it really true they only have three O.W.L.s between them?"
Hermione chuckled, "yes it's true. They've always been insanely clever, but never really saw the point in examinations. I think they also enjoyed winding up their mum."
"Well, they seem like good men."
"Yes, they are." And it was true, Hermione thought to herself. However... exposed and mortified she might feel, they were good men and their intent hadn't been malicious. Always mischievous, never malicious – it could almost be their motto. It wasn't exactly their fault she fancied them. Maybe she was being a bit too hard on Fred. Maybe... but there was no reason to tell him so.
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"This is a bad idea."
"It's a wonderful idea, don't you want to know what she writes?"
"Well, yeah, but this is still a bad idea."
"Aw, come on! Besides, this will be a perfect way to test if the Reveal-O-Parchment works over long distances."
"We really need to work on that name, it's rubbish."
"Must've been your idea then. Well, shall we?"
"Fine, fine, have it your way, Han Solo. But when she finds out, I just want to make sure we both remember that I said it was a bad idea."
"She won't find out. How could she possibly find out?"
"It's Hermione, she'll find out. "
"Whatever." Fred rolled his eyes and tapped his wand on the blank parchment in front of them. "Look, she's already started writing!"
Identical red heads bent forward to read the neatly looping script.
-lift doors rolled shut. Immediately, hands grabbed her from all sides, and a mouth pressed hot kisses to the side of her neck, biting and sucking just underneath her jaw line before working down to the join of her shoulder and neck. Hands were removing her robes, the sound of tearing fabric filling the air until she was clothed only in her silk nightdress. The lips at her throat moved down her chest to suck at one of her raised nipples through the thin fabric. Her low moan was cut off as Fred, no, George kissed her lips, lightly teasing at first and then pressing more firmly as she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to sweep across hers. She entwined a hand in each set of red hair. Someone's hand reached up to rub lightly across her other nipple, whilst another hand reached downwards to squeeze her arse. Heat rushed between her legs and she leaned against Fred to keep from falling over as her knees buckled. Another hand began skimming slowly up her inner thigh, tracing circles as she moaned against George's mouth and...
I might have to finish this one in my bedroom.
The twins sat frozen in silence, eyes wide, three ears flaming red.
"Excuse me," they said at the same time, jumping up and looking anywhere but at each other. Silently, they both crossed the lounge quickly and each headed into their own bedroom, the doors shutting with firm clicks behind them.
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Author's Note: This is so much fun! What do you think of Ron – too out of character or believably matured?