Fred tiptoed down the stairs, hearing footsteps further down in front of him. Peeking over the landing, he caught a glimpse of Hermione's hair. She was obviously of her way to help with dinner. His clenched his jaw; if he hadn't taken so long in his little shower excursion, he could have beaten her down and taken care of everything already. Pushing aside his annoyance, he slipped down the stairs not far behind her. Instinct told him to stay silent as he shadowed her to the kitchen. Much like that morning, he stayed hidden just outside of the kitchen and listened. Maybe he could hear what Mum needed and get started before she even left the room.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley's surprised exclamation resounded easily through the entirety of the first floor. "Goodness my dear, don't you look wonderful!"

Fred's eyebrow arched curiously. Not that she was stingy with compliments, but it wasn't often she raved so openly about how someone looked. He dearly hoped whatever she was wearing wouldn't be as tempting as her last outfit, or there was no way he'd make it through dinner without an embarrassing boner. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to keep his hands to himself if it was.

"Thank you," Hermione's sweet voice filtered through the entry way, making Fred smile. It wasn't obvious, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice. His smile faltered for only a second with the realization for the reason behind the hesitation. Hermione was so damned brilliant that's all anyone ever spoke about. He'd wager that compliments on her look were not nearly as common in her world.

"Can I help at all? It smells delicious."

"Well," Mrs. Weasley's pride was evident in her voice, "I should hope so I made your favorite steak and potato pie with all the trimmings!"

Hermione's pleased gasp made Fred chuckle silently. He'd predicted his mum would put together something extra special for her this morning. George always teased him for spoiling birds too much, but never seemed to connect the dots that he was just a magnified reflection of his mother's need to please and take care of people, and his father's quiet kindness and strength.

"That sounds absolutely wonderful Mrs. Weasley," Hermione squealed. Unseen, she'd wrapped the thrilled older woman in an affectionate embrace. Seeing the young woman so pleased seemed to raise an unseen weight off her shoulders.

"Please let me help," she repeated her request. Evidently Mrs. Weasley had figured out what Fred was still learning and didn't fight her.

"Of course, thank you so much. Would you mind setting the table? Dinner should be ready in about ten." Mrs. Weasley turned back to her masterpiece meal. "Since you're dressed so nice, let's use the good plates," she added, making sure to be good and loud about it. Raising so many children made her more adept at hearing footsteps creeping down the stairs; she knew someone was outside the kitchen listening in and raised in voice to subtly extend her instructions. Godric only knew which of her boys had shadowed Hermione down the stairs, but she was secretly thrilled. If it were Harry, he'd have just walked in with Hermione. She recently had a growing sneaking suspicion the Fred may have a soft spot for the girl. Regardless of who, it was nice knowing one of her sons was quietly looking after her adopted daughter as well.


Harry and Ginny quickly cleaned themselves up, knowing they had to hurry if there were going to be dressed and ready in time for dinner. Ginny had already told him they were dressing up Hermione extra nice for dinner to catch her admirer's eye. He'd nearly pitched a fit when she'd told him about the outfits they'd brought. At least until Ginny promised him just how funny it was guaranteed to be watching Fred be tortured along the way. He was all up for torturing the asshole after his baby sister. Screw anyone who points out they're the same age. She was his baby sister. Period.

"You aren't going to kill Fred are you," Ginny sounded a bit unsure as she watched Harry pace while she dressed.

"Not yet."

Ominous.

"I'll just run down and get changed for dinner then… me and Luna are going to dress down. You know… let the belle of the ball shine and all of that." She pulled Harry to a halt in his pacing and stole a little kiss. "I love you. Almost as much as you love Hermione," she couldn't resist teasing. It did the trick.

"I love you more than life itself darling," he swore softly, giving her another softer, lingering kiss.

"I love you more," she smiled broadly, having brought him back from wherever his mind had wondered off to.

Harry watched her go, grinning a little at the exaggerated wiggle in her walk. Flirtatious little witch.

No sooner did she close the door behind herself did his mind start up again. The idea that she and Luna needed to dress down for Hermione to shine was preposterous. If Fred was nearly as crazy about Hermione as she said, then there was no reason to try and help her stand out. She would be all he can look at regardless. If anything, being the most dressed up person at the table would just make Hermione uncomfortable.

Mind made up; Harry changed his outfit plan for the evening. He slid on a pair of dark trousers and a deep green jumper that Hermione always complimented him on. Apparently, it made his eyes look 'extra pretty', and he knew for a fact that it clung just right to the muscles he'd trained for years to develop. A small smirk crossed his lips as he reached for an old pair of jeans. Women weren't the only ones who could squeeze their way into tight fitted clothing to catch the eye. He wiggled his way into the old jeans, letting them mold tightly around his ass and cup his manhood just enough. He'd give Fred a run for his money and drive his girl crazy all at once. With any luck, he'd get a repeat performance of their liaison. Preferably one longer so he could take his time.


George, evidently being one of apparently the only two sane people in the house under the age of fifty, dressed normally for dinner. His only agenda was to let Fred do his thing and finally get the girl. Well, that and make sure the household of lunatics he just unleashed on the couple didn't get in the way.

Speaking of which, he could hear twin sets of cackling down the hall. Better go see what the little she-demons were up to and rein them in. Shaking his head, he made his way over and knocked firmly on the closed door, interrupting the giggles. Luna answered the door quickly, peering down the hall before yanking him into the room with surprising strength.

"What the fuck," George hissed as he stumbled his way into the room. Quickly recovering, he rolled his eyes, stepped past Hermione's cot-bed, and sat on Ginny's bed. "You wanted to see me," he drawled as he settled in.

"What are you wearing?" Ginny sounded scandalized.

"You do seem over-dressed," Luna agreed a bit more politely.

George looked down over himself, wondering if there was a giant stain on his shirt or something he didn't know about. But no… just the normal jumper and jeans. His gaze jumped to the girls. Luna was dressed the same, but obviously packed her things and wasn't planning to stay for dinner. Normal enough there. But Ginny… he didn't even realize she owned such ratty sweats. And the sweatshirt had a hole in the arm pit; were her pants actually tucked into her socks?

"What the actual fuck?" Eloquent, but really the only thing he could think to say. "Put on something normal you lunatic."

"No! We dressed Hermione up all pretty for Fred. We must dress down now, so he notices."

George stared at her for a moment. "For the love of… please tell me it isn't what she was wearing before."

Ginny looked triumphant. "You mean when Fred looked like he was going to eat Hermione whole right in front of us both earlier?"

"Better lay off the sexy stuff for now Gin… or that may actually happen, location and audience be damned."

Both girls gasped, then burst into giggles. Apparently, the outfits worked better than even they'd anticipated. They'd heed his warning of course. After all, Fred was supposed to be getting a little push to seduce Hermione slowly. Not take her on the dinner table.

"I spoke to Harry… he's wary but willing to let Fred try and win her over."


Fred easily heard his mother's instructions and was already on the move before Hermione had even had a chance to say "Of course, I'm on it". Using magic for the added speed, he had a tablecloth spread out over the table in seconds and was pulling out the dishes by the time Hermione entered. He pretended not to hear her small gasp of surprise, instead flexing a little more than strictly necessary as he reached up and pulled the large pile of good China out. He balanced them on an arm and turned as though readying to set them on the table before 'noticing' her.

"Oh, hey," his years of mischief perfected his acting, "what're you doing down here? I thought you were upstairs relaxing with the girls." He kept his voice pitched low. Both for privacy from his mother in the next room, and because he knew it would make his voice sound deeper. All the better to weave the subtle beginnings of his plan.

"I came to see if I could help your mother with dinner. She asked me to set the table," Hermione spoke equally softly as she stepped closer, unconsciously drawn in.

"Well," Fred shot her a smile, "I'm already finishing up."

It was true. While they spoke, he'd sent the plates and cutlery zooming quietly through the air to settle in their places on the table. He had a moment of triumph when he saw the surprised but impressed look on her face as she observed the high-level magic as he controlled them silently without his wand.

Hermione was genuinely surprised. Although, thinking about it now, she shouldn't have been. It was easy to underestimate the twins because of their past, but the kind of innovation they specialized in required sharp, creative minds. It was obvious now Fred was incredibly smart and in control. She should have realized just how much so when they spoke earlier. Not just anyone would try and cure an invisible disease not even commonly recognized in their world yet. Not to be outdone, she pulled out her wand and employed some silent magic of her own, directing the crystal glasses to float gracefully to each place setting, followed closely by napkins and cutlery.

"Well done," Fred softly praised as he began putting the final touches on the table. "I've got everything from here though. I'll head in and check on Mum too."

"I just did though."

"She'll be more than happy to order me around even with made up tasks," Fred grinned. "Why don't you go relax. Maybe you can get a few moments of peace to look through your book."

She almost refused. Nearly demanded she be allowed to help with whatever other tasks Mrs. Weasley thought up to order him to take care of. But she paused. There was an eager sort of gleam in his eye, and she suddenly had the impression it was more important that she acquiesced to his request. It felt like she was being given permission to take a few greedy moments to herself despite there being work to be done. They stayed for a moment, just watching one another. Fred was the first to move.

He closed the distance between them, reached out, and gave her a playful little push. "Go."

Fred watched Hermione as she entered the living room for some quality time with her precious books. Good thing she didn't look back at him before disappearing, or she'd have seen the broad grin and gleam of satisfaction in Fred's eye and had several questions. It was tempting to slip over to the door and peak in at her while she read, but Fred had made a promise and intended to see it through.

"You can check the oven and see how the pie is coming along dear," Mrs. Weasley commanded the moment he stepped foot in the kitchen despite her turned back.

Fred rolled his eyes. Leave it to Mum to know exactly when one of her kids was in the vicinity. Silently, he obeyed. The pies looked delicious as always, reminding him of the overheard conversation earlier. They were a favorite of his girl… he hesitated a moment. Would asking to learn how to make them give away his feelings? Obviously, George knew, and he wasn't thrilled about admitting it to Harry. But if Mum figured it out…

"Here." The woman in question interrupted his thoughts, thrusting a sheet of parchment beneath his nose. "And close the oven. You're letting out the heat. Everything else is done here, so you just go and relax. When it's all done, I'll call you to help serve."

Fred jumped back as Mrs. Weasley slammed shut the oven and looked at the parchment. Very neatly written, it contained detailed instructions on how to make steak and potato pie, complete with all the trimmings. Immediately, he blushed deeply.

"Mum…"

Mrs. Weasley whirled around on him, wand at the ready and poking him in the chest. "Don't! I'm not stupid Frederick"

"I didn't think you were," his protests fell on deaf ears as she spoke over him.

"Just you make sure you treat her right. I know... I know. You always treat your girls right. But she's different and you know it. If you're going to chase her, you better keep her good and right when you catch her."

Mrs. Weasley's voice remained hard, even as her eyes softened and grew moist. It was the only hint she gave about how much she wanted to see them both happy.

"Trust me Mum," Fred wrapped her in a tight hug, "I'll be keeping her good and long. You'll see."

"Good." She returned his hug bone crushingly tight. "Now go."

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh," he paused before he left. "Mum…"

"I won't say a word." She swore. "This is all up to you dear. I'll be here watching and waiting."


So in my family there is this saying that when you marry someone, you marry their family too. With this in mind, I decided to make Fred's intentions clear to the whole house hold, even if he himself doesn't know they all know. I think that having the family aware and at his back fit the Weasley family and will work in the future.

Reviews make the pen flow faster...