Chapter 7

Hermione didn't return to the Twins shop that day, or the next. By the end of the week Fred and George had become so concerned about her that they decided to go to her, rather than waiting for her to come to them.

Several possibilities had occurred to them, the first being that she had started her new job straight away. This theory however was quashed by the fact that Ron and Harry had been sent on a dangerous mission for the week and Hermione had expressed how much she was looking forward to spending it with them, away from the danger of discovery. Surely her new job couldn't keep her away from them at all hours of the day.

Their second theory was confirmed the moment they popped into her gleaming white kitchen of the modest two bedroom flat she shared with Harry and Ron. Hermione hadn't found a new job and had therefore had fallen back on her sometimes obsessive tendencies, instead of dealing with the issue. If Hermione had to have one thing in her life, then it was control.

Fred frowned at the emptiness of the kitchen, everything standing by in eerie, squeaky clean, silence. George looked around for their favourite witch and spotted her house elf in it's box on the table. They had only ever seen Hermione clean like this once before, shortly after the war when it had hit her just how much had been lost – the fact that she had reverted to her old habits was cause for concern.

"I wondered if Mum bought it back," George mused, walking over with a goofy smile to pick the awkward creature up.

"Probably threw it through the floo when she realised Hermione wasn't coming back," Fred joked, imagining his red headed mother in a fit of rage at being taken advantage of.

"Hermione?" George called, walking through the kitchen to the small noises being emitted from the far end of the flat.

"In here!" he heard the cry, which echoed slightly off the tiled room she had cloistered herself in.

The twins followed the sounds of cleaning and found her on her knees, her arm elbow deep in the toilet bowl.

"When I imagined you on your knees in front of us, I never though it would be quite like this," Fred joked, tilting his head to examine her round arse, resting against her folded legs as she rocked back and forward, scrubbing the bowl within in an inch of it's life.

"I'm not in the mood Fred," she growled, not turning to look at them. Fred felt a jolt when he realized how intimately she must know them to recognise who had been speaking to her. Even their own mother had been incapable of performing such magic.

"So when will you be in the mood? When there is no skin left on your fingers and the germs run screaming at the sight of you?" George countered, trying for a mild tone, but conveying his concern nonetheless.

This stopped Hermione cold.

She sat up, resting against her heels as the scrubbing brush in her hand fell back in the bowl with a plunk. They saw her back heave as she tried to compose herself with deep breaths.

"Love, what is it?" Fred asked, stepping forward to hover close, but afraid to touch her lest she snap.

"This is all I am good for now," she whispered.

"What? Cleaning, or being on your knees?" George asked, moving with the elf to sit on the floor, his back to the wall as he watched his lover's profile, a myriad of emotions crossing her tight features before settling on misery.

"Both," she choked, flinching a little when Fred's hand came to rest on her bushy head, but accepting his touch moments later by leaning against his shins, taking in his warmth.

"You know that's not true," Fred whispered, looking to George with concern, neither man being very good at comforting, but needing to do something as she knelt before them so distraught.

"Tell that to the seventy eight people who turned me down. I'm unemployable," she breathed, as if she didn't quite believe this fact herself.

"What!"

"Since when?"

"Since Pansy Parkinson saw to it that I was blacklisted by every department and shop in Wizarding London is since when. Nobody wants me for fear of what some pureblood snob will do to them," she explained, her chin dropping to her chest as a sob wracked her small frame.

"You applied for seventy two jobs in a couple of days and all of them turned you down?" George asked, his face a mask of incredulity.

"I applied for thirty of them in person, the rest were Ministry applications. The owls nearly killed each other trying to get to me first the next day," she said miserably, turning her head to bury her tear streaked face between Fred's knees.

"Oh love…" Fred sighed, bending over her as she sobbed.

"And now I don't know what to do, everything is such a mess," she cried.

"We could go and hex Parkinson for you. A couple of canary creams in place of her usual sweets, maybe swap her morning vitamins with puking pastels, or even send her house elves on strike," George joked weakly, contemplating seriously doing just those things and more.

Hermione gave him a watery smile, "It won't help, she seems hell bent on revenge for something I didn't do."

"It will help make me feel better," Fred said, grinning at his brother as they silently plotted.

"Please, don't," Hermione sniffed, "Hasn't she suffered enough? She is carrying a Malfoy after all," she joked.

Fred chuckled as he helped her off the floor, pulling her into an all-encompassing hug. George used the wall as leverage to pull himself to his feet, holding out his hand to her and pulling her to hug him too, the elf squashed between them.

"Let us help you forget about all this for a while," he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her tear stained cheek. Fred joined them, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind.

"We've missed you," he said in her other ear, feeling her shiver against him.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Don't be, just let be here for you," George said, pulling back to stare into her eyes.

"Let us love you," Fred added, letting the words hang heavily in the air.

Hermione turned to look at him, judging the sincerity in his eyes but making no comment about his phrasing. Her life was already falling apart, and right now Fred and George were some of the only things going right for her - despite the fact that their relationship was so very very wrong.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she decided to live in the moment and stop dwelling on things that were out of control. When she opened her eyes Fred was still there, smiling at her now and all she wanted to do was kiss him.

Standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled the red head down to meet her, kissing him with almost violent passion. His hands spanned her waist as he returned her ardour, gaining access to her mouth with a deep guttural groan.

They barely noticed when George left the room, so involved in the sensations of the heated kiss, wrapping around each other in a frantic effort to gain more friction. He returned moments later, empty handed.

Hermione pulled away, panting heavily and flushed with arousal. She kept one hand on the back of Fred's neck as she pulled George to her, sharing an equally heated kiss, letting out a surprised squeak when he lifted her into his arms. The trio left the cramped bathroom and stumbled across the hall, practically falling into bed as they tore at each other clothes.

Buttons flew, fabric tore and wands were left to roll forgotten to the floor as she turned back to Fred to resume their previous heated kiss. She felt George's fingers trail down her torso, his lips following their path as he spread her thighs to find her wet and ready.

"Sweet Merlin, Granger. You're going to kill us," he murmured, his tongue dipping into her navel before journeying further south. He traced the imprint on her thigh, still there from their first time together, claiming her as their property and grinned as she bucked into his touch.

She twisted and rolled her hips as her need increased, urging him to touch her, taste her. Her small skilled hands travelled down, clutching at George's hair and Fred's throbbing arousal, both men groaned.

"Please," she pleaded, as Fred's fingers tweaked her nipples and George's tongue took that first earth shattering taste of her folds. Her back arched as she gave in to the wash of sensations that felt so new yet so familiar.

Fred's mouth left hers as he left a trail of hot opened mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, making his way down to replace his fingers, his tongue working in tandem to his brother's skill touch. She became a writhing puddle of flesh and bones, tensing and relaxing, groaning and screaming until they bought her to climax in a matter of moments.

Gasping, she rolled over on top of Fred, pushing him to his back amongst the pillows. He looked up at her flushed face, her shining eyes and the almost feral expression as her body continued to blaze with an inner fire only he and George could put out. Her chest heaved as she stared down at him, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted so say something but staying open when she sunk down over him.

Her body clutched tightly to him, her sleeve still convulsing from her previous orgasm. She didn't move at first, merely laying her head on his chest as she let the feelings consume her. She turned her head to stare at George and he knew what she wanted.

Feeling him crawl behind her, she shifted further up Fred, his cock sliding almost out of her as his brother used his fingers to prepare her. She bit her lip as pleasure merged with pain and kissed the man beneath her again. She moaned into his mouth as George pressed against her hard, entering her slowly in what was still a very new thing to her.

It wasn't often she experienced both men together, the experience always overwhelming. She loved the hours they had spent learning each others bodies and finding alternative ways to be together. But in times like this – times where she needed them to be with her fully – she gave in and lost herself to feel of being taken completely.

It was uncomfortable at first and awkward as they struggled to find a rhythm. Fred would thrust in, thus forcing George out, and vice versa. She began to feel the flames building again, the sparks of pure sensation making her dizzy as they found cleverly hidden sweet spots that had gone previously undiscovered. She began to loose a sense of herself, not being able to tell which way was up or down, or where she started and they began.

Fred was panting heavily in her ear, her hair plastering to his face and neck as it fell from its bindings. George's fingers dug into her hips as he groaned above her. They began to thrust deeper and faster into her, her body jerking wildly between them as she finally let go.

Her cries echoed through the empty house as she came, shuddering and breathless, between them. Fred followed her moments later, muffling his shouts in her hair, his fingers almost bruising her ribs where he held her to him. She collapsed against him as the George's heavy weight pressed her down as he found his own release seconds later.

For a long time they just lay there, catching their breaths, until Hermione realized she was having trouble finding hers because she couldn't move, let along breath between them. George groaned when she elbowed him in the ribs, but rolled to his side anyway, taking her with him. She rested her cheek on Fred's chest and traced circles around his freckles until they all fell asleep.

Hermione was jolted awake some time later, feeling a little bit too hot and with a crick in her neck from sleeping in the same position for too long. George stirred behind her just as the sound that had woken her up came again. That was definitely her front door slamming closed.

She sat up. Fred's arm, which had been a dead weight around her body, fell to her waist. She shook him awake as the sounds of two people crashed down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

"Harry," they heard a very feminine voice giggle, moments before the bodies crashed into her doorway.

Hermione held her breath and the twins seemed to freeze beneath her. Ginny giggled again as the incoherent murmur of Harry's deep voice was muffled by the door. It was several frozen moments later that the pair moved away from her bedroom, clearly heading for Harry's.

Hermione's body remained frozen until Fred sat up next to her, listening carefully before climbing out of the bed. He crept around the floor until he found his wand and cast a silencing charm before speaking.

"He's back early," he commented, looking a little green at the thought of his little sister's activities in the next room.

"They didn't know how long they were going for," Hermione replied, climbing out of the bed gingerly to help sort out their clothes, using her wand to repair the damage from their earlier haste.

"Wonder where Ron is," George mused, accepting his pants back and slipping them up his toned thighs.

"Probably filling out the paperwork, Harry usually goes back to help later, after he's seen Ginny" Hermione replied, used to Ron's complaining about taking on the majority of the work. Hermione knew he didn't mean it though, since Harry was more active on the field than off it.

She tried to do up her robe with shaky fingers, and was close to giving up when Fred brushed her hands aside to help.

"Come and spend a few hours with us at the shop," he said, brushing her hair from her face when he was done with the fiddly buttons.

"Learn the ropes, as they say," George added from behind her.

"I-I…" she stuttered, "what ropes?"

"You start work tomorrow," Fred told her matter-of-factly.

"No, I already said…"

"We know what you said, but you don't have a choice anymore. We need you," George replied, flicking his wand to cleanse and make the bed, checking to see if anything else was out of place in the room.

She gave them both a look that told them what she thought of their 'need'.

"Not in that way, although it would be a perk," Fred chuckled, tucking her under his arm as they prepared to leave their sister and her lover to their privacy.

"How?" she asked suspiciously, letting George wrap his arm around her too.

"You my dear have a fresh young mind we intend to exploit," George grinned, kissing her forehead as she continued to frown.

"Congratulations Granger, you are now officially a WWW research partner," Fred beamed.

Hermione didn't have a chance to reply or refuse, they were already apparating her out of the house and straight into their clutches.

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