A very special thank you to my new pseudo Beta, and best friend, Lolo for helping me rewrite this chapter countless times. Love ya Sis.
Wisely choosing not to disturb the girls' breakfast, Fred instead opted to clear his head with a long, brutal run followed by a scorching hot shower to relieve remaining ache in his muscles. It was his own little piece of heaven. His mind inevitably cast back to earlier that day, replaying the overheard conversation that continued to boggle his mind. Hermione was one of the most amazing women he'd ever met, it was a surprise she was single much less never properly snogged.
Unbidden images of their school days together filled his mind. More specifically, thoughts surrounding her lips; she had a tendency to bite them when she was reading. His all to creative mind taking over, he began picturing how it'd be to distract her from one of those book and nibble her lips for himself.
He furrowed his brow as he tried to dry off with the now damp towel. He'd first noticed her back in Hogwarts, before the Yule ball, when all the others finally saw the beauty under those curls. But that was just it. Only an appreciation for her beauty. And intelligence. And loyal… kindness… courage…
"Bloody hell," he groaned yanking his fingers through is overly long hair. This was really bad.
The house was slowly beginning to show signs of awakening, and George was blissfully in the lands between awake and asleep.
"Wakey, wakey Georgie," his brother's singsong voice barely broke through the haze. His still addled mind procured an image of a massive orange cat, purring as it sipped a coffee, calling to him with his brother's voice. His brows furrowed in his sleep as he observed the cat drinking the coffee with extended pinkies. It wasn't even holding the cup though…
Trying to decipher just how the cat was able to extend its pinky… do cats even have pinkies… George remained blissfully unaware of the world around himself.
All of the sudden he was suffocating and couldn't see a thing!
Fred chuckled as George finally woke with a snort and flailing limbs, topped off with a muffled curse as he fell out of bed. George's head popped up, still covered with his wet towel. He huffed and violently yanked the towel from his head to shoot a lethal glare at his twin. Already used to George's morning moodiness, Fred ignored him; there were more important things at hand. Just to be safe though, he quickly removed his now nude body from the immediate vicinity in favor of digging out something to wear from the dresser.
"Cold Freddie?" George snarked, slowly dragging himself off the floor. He sluggishly straightened the sheets on his bed, still giving serious thought to crawling back in it instead.
"Not at all oh reflection of mine," Fred shot back with ease knowing it'd take Zombie-Georgie a bit to catch the subtle returned insult.
George sat on the side of his bed to pull on his socks, intent on protecting his feet from the cool floor before dressing. He looked up and watched as Fred pulled on his jumper. First on both inside out and backwards. Then, after a hissed curse, only inside out. His amused grin quickly yielded to wide eyed horror as Fred turned to leave the room. Still nude from the waist down. He leapt across the room to slam the door shut as Fred pulled it open. "Bloody hell Fred. Sheath your wand," he hissed. Fred looked at him like he was the crazy one. "PANTS!"
"Fucking shit," Fred stared down at himself. George threw a pair of jeans at him.
"Jumper…" He reminded as he quickly dressed himself.
"I'm already wearing one," Fred rolled his eyes.
"I noticed," George rolled his eyes back. "I've heard that wearing them right side out has become rather fashionable recently though."
Fred growled low in his chest and tore off the jumper, throwing it roughly to the corner. He glared petulantly at it, his mind obviously miles away.
"Cloned," George used their safe word without hesitation. With practiced ease, they moved their nightstand to the far side of the room, and pushed their beds together. They silently climbed onto the beds and laid on their backs, side by side. It was a much tighter fit than when they were kids, but neither minded. After a moment of continued silence, George more sensed than felt some of the tension leave his brother's body. As always in the past, the caller of the safe word draped his ankle over the other's, indicating a readiness to speak. Or in this case, listen.
"Did you know the girls sneak off for early breakfast sometimes?" Fred began.
"Huh," was all George said when Fred finished. He'd known about Fred's crush on Hermione for years, even if the dolt never caught on himself. The poor bastard was always eyeing girls with hair that curled like hers, or the same color. More than once he'd broken things off because a girl said she didn't like to read even though he hardly read himself. It was about time the idiot started to realize his own feelings. He'd been worried after Hermione and Ron's brief relationship that Fred would remain in denial for good.
"So, what are you going to do about it," he finally asked, determined to give Fred a little push, or shove, in the right direction. There was no doubt Hermione would be a perfect match to balance out Fred. And he was confident there wasn't a man on earth who treat Hermione better.
"What?" Fred turned his head to shoot his twin a confused look.
"Well…" George hesitated. He couldn't very well command his brother to go snog the literal pants of the girl he considered a second little sister. It sounded too weird. "Why not show her a proper kiss?" he finally ventured cautiously. Fred immediately shot up in bed and turned to look at him, his face unreadable.
Hermione bent her head and cut her lamb chop to unnecessarily small bits as she slowly raised her eyes and looked through her lashes across the table. He was staring again. She took a slow, deep breath and focused on not missing her mouth as she took a bite. Her face felt hot and she was too distracted hoping she wasn't blushing to enjoy the food. From the moment they all sat down for lunch, she felt as though she were being watched. The hairs were standing on end on the back on her neck a chill kept running down her spine. She had to fight back a shiver a few times. After a few covert glances, she'd finally found the source. And was starting to wish she hadn't. His gazes were getting harder to ignore and she couldn't figure out the reason behind it. It took all her self-control to not spin in her seat and see if there was there was something behind her.
George kicked Fred hard under the table hard enough to bruise, satisfied to see him flinch on impact. "Stop staring," he cautioned in a barely audible whisper, his lips hardly moving.
"I'm not staring," he hissed back finally tearing his eyes away from Hermione. Georgie's question had thrown him through a loop. Just imagine… him and Hermione… it was insane. He'd never admit it but now watching that fork slide between her lips with every bite was too hypnotic, and it was all George's fault. George seemingly read his mind and flashed an innocent grin, the mischievous twinkle in his eye making Fred's eyes narrow suspiciously.
A loud screech ended the silent exchange and drew everyone's attention making them all look up to see Pig zoom in through the open window and straight at the table. He crash landed, sending food and dishes flying all over the girls on the opposite side of the table. Confused panic prompted everyone to leap up, Ginny tripping over Luna's foot. She flailed her arms wildly, grabbing on to the other two girls, successfully bringing them all down in a heap of limbs.
A chorus of screeches and "bloody hell" were punctuated by Mrs. Weasley screeching for her husband, seated right next to her, seemingly frozen in shock. Far more proactive, the Weasley boys and Harry hurried to the girls; Fred and George actually vaulting over the table at the sound of someone's pained whimper. There was a rush of confusion as they got in one another's way trying to detangle the fallen girls and help them up.
"Is anyone hurt?" Arthur finally moved into action and spoke over the group as they all tried to talk at once. "Let's settle everyone away from the broken dishes first," he directed this at Ron, who was trying to dab at the scratch on Luna's wrist on the floor in everyone else's way. With ease the twins lifted Ginny and Hermione off the floor, neither missing as Hermione tried to hide a wince. Harry quickly pushed the remaining dishes to the side as they deposited the girls on top of the table. Ron hovered slightly as Luna moved around the table and sat in George's vacated seat.
"Bloody useless," George glared at Pig, who was happily nosing around in what stuffing splayed across the table. He grabbed the oblivious owl, barely restrained strangling the damned thing, and removed the letter from its leg. Mrs. Weasley was waving her wand, quickly cleaning up the mess, shaking her head at the ruined meal while Arthur hurried to the bathroom to grab the first aid supplies.
"Sorry guys," Ginny apologized with a sheepish grin. Despite the hubbub, the chaos and potential bruises was worth the attention that Harry was shamelessly showing on her. She couldn't help basking in the attention as he gently ran his hands over her, just firm enough to leave her wishing for more. There was a look in his eyes she would never get sick of seeing. Intense and somewhat dark; the kind of look that made a woman feel safe in a primitive sort of way.
"It wasn't your fault," Luna serenely reassured her as she let Ron dribble wound cleaning potion over the scratch on her arm. It was hardly necessary for such a small scratch, but she tolerated the stinging and slight smoking with ease, giving Ginny a little smile.
"Doesn't look like anyone was terribly hurt," Hermione answered, sounding almost too normal. Ginny glanced out the corner of her eye to check on Hermione. It'd be just like her to pretend to be fine just to hide an injury so no one would worry. Fred was kneeling on the seat before her and began running his fingers gently through her hair; she assumed, that he was checking for any lumps or bumps. She opened her mouth to ask if she really was okay, but couldn't get the words out. Instead, her eyes widened as she watched her best friend and older brother. Hermione was distracted, curiously watching as George read the letter, seemingly oblivious to Fred's ministrations. Fred… she blushed, realizing he was looking at Hermione pretty similar to the way Harry was looking at her. But different. Darker somehow… sort of ravenous.
"Interesting…"
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