'Ginny owes me a hell of a fucking blow job,' Harry decided as he patiently listened to Fred's story, starting with the overheard conversation. Sure, it was a cute story – like the romance books Ginny liked to pretend she didn't read. But seriously, he could do without the very detailed descriptions of all the sexual fantasies Fred had had since then as well. Apparently now that the 'secret' was out, Fred didn't know how to reengage that filter between his brain and mouth. It would be an unfortunately long time before he got the picture of Hermione being fucked against a bookcase out of his head. Maybe Ginny would be kind enough to obliviate that particular point of conversation out of his memory later. Not for the first time Fred mumbled a barb about Harry kissing his "marking spot", whatever the fuck that meant. All he knew was every time Hermione was verging on a panic attack, all he had to do was give her a little peck there and it was like hitting a reset button for her.

"You need to jerk off more," Harry finally lost his patience and interrupted, managing to shock Fred into blessed silence and preserving what little remained of his sanity. For a moment Harry wished he had a camera with him to capture the confusion and horror on Fred's face. "You can't go around dictating where I can and can't kiss her. She was mine first." Harry chose to ignore the lack of feministic logic in his answer. 'Mione was her own person of course, but she was his before anyone else's, and he had no shame in reminding anyone who tried to disrespect that.

"What… what the fuck does one have to do with the other? And she's not yours the same why she's mine…"

"What's the difference?" Harry challenged. "I'm the one that holds her when she has nightmares. I'm the one that knows when to make her smile and when to give her a safe place to cry. I'm the one she looks for first when she walks into a room..."

"That's why I'm here!" Fred burst out angrily, cutting off Harry's cruel tirade. "I want to be the one who takes care of her. To have her eyes follow me through the room and give her reason to smile… to laugh."

"So, you can drag her to bed and fuck her whenever you want," Harry accused hotly, starting to wonder if they were all just confusing love and lust.

"Yes! So, I can take her to bed and make her scream my name with every orgasm until she can't take anymore," Fred threw his notepad and quill violently across the room. He turned and sat back on his heels, his hands gripping the sheets tight in an effort to reign in his temper. "I want her in my bed, so every time that beautiful brain of hers produces a nightmare, all she has to do is roll over and know I'll spend hours making sure she forgets how to think about anything but my body touching hers! So when she's done and spent, I can feed her, and give her a hot bath, and hold her and remind her every fucking day how fucking perfect she is. So she thinks about me even half as much as I think of her and knows I'm her safe place!" Fred's voice grew until he was all but shouting in Harry's face. "I want her to soaking wet every time she thinks of me and feel my love with every breath she takes. Her eyes will only look for you first, cause I'll be the one next to her holding and showing her off and if you won't help me … WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING?!"

Harry held up his hands in a plea for mercy before Fred could jump him again, unable to breathe through the wild laughter that had taken over. 'Ginny was so fucking right… I hate letting her go, but he's ready to set the world on fire and watch it burn for her.' It was hard to think about relinquishing care of her to someone else, but it didn't compare to his relief that it would be passed on to someone he knew conceptually more than capable and worthy of it. The realization that Fred would be all too happy to pull through on the promise of screaming orgasms was enough to calm his sudden outburst.

"I never said I wouldn't help you, you stupid prat. You never even asked me to. Just stalked in here, decided to go WWE Smack Down on me, and started going off on tangents of all the sex things you want to do with my sister. That's why you need to jerk off more," he made a face. Sure, it was good that Hermione would be more than well taken care of in that department, but he'd have been much happier with a lot less detail.

Fred stared at him expressionlessly, most likely contemplating strangling the younger man. Ginny would just have to find a new love in her life. Hermione wouldn't have time to grieve if he tied her to the bed and kept her coming…

"You need a clear head to win her over Fred," Harry rolled his eyes. "There's not a man on earth who could think straight with all that lust in the way. Jerk off more and maybe you'll be able to think straight. You don't want to lose it as soon as you kiss her."

"Maybe…" Fred flopped back groaning. Harry was almost definitely right about needing to take the edge off. But every time he did, the list of things he wanted to do to his little witch grew longer. 'Poor witch isn't gonna know what hit her,' he stared up at the ceiling, resigned to the knowledge that once he caught her it would be a while before he'd be satisfied enough to take her on a proper date. Harry leaned back against his pillows, ignoring Fred's foot twitching agitatedly next to him. He glanced over at the clock – it was getting late. It wouldn't be long before Ginny snuck up to see him. While Hermione always came first in his life, Fred most certainly did not.

"We'll talk tomorrow, after you've… taken the edge off and can manage to act relatively sane. I refuse to talk anymore about her when you're lying there with a hard on." Fred flushed – just thinking about jerking off while thinking about her had become a turn on. He jerked up and jumped off the bed.

"Fine. I'll stop by again tomorrow," he hurried away.

"Do something about that lip," Harry shouted as he slammed the door shut behind him.


Ginny finished brushing through her hair and tied it back loosely. She settled into bed to flip through a magazine, barely paying attention. She was too distracted, trying not to stare at the clock waiting until it was late enough to slip upstairs. The anticipation alone was turning her on. Shifting lightly in bed to press her thighs together, she bit her lip. Knowing Harry, if she walked in already hot-to-trot, he'd purposefully draw it out just to drive her crazy. She needed a distraction.

Forcing her mind to refocus, she thought back to dinner earlier – doing her best to gloss over how good he'd looked all dressed up. He'd dressed up for Hermione, and to fuck with Fred, she reminded herself. Following that train of thought, she remembered the way Fred had stared at Hermione the whole meal. She couldn't help feeling like if their parents hadn't been present, Fred would have tossed the little witch over his shoulder and taken her upstairs then and there. She wondered if maybe they should try and cool off their efforts a bit. Give him a breather. If he lost control too early, what's to say his chances wouldn't be ruined? Hermione was liable to run away scared; convince herself that all he wanted was a quick fuck, not a life partner. There was a fine line to walk when trying to seduce an overthinker like her. Make it clear she was wanted sexually and personally. There was a romantic element missing in their plan, she decided. But how do you give romance to someone without it being too obvious if was romantic, so they didn't get a chance to back away?

"Why bother pretending?" Hermione asked as she watched Ginny go through the motions of getting settled nice and comfy in bed, blankly staring at the same page for way too long to be staring at an ad for menstrual products.

Ginny froze. 'Damn it! We underestimated her… even a blind, dumb monkey would catch on this point. Not like Fred eye-fucking her over dinner is subtle.' She snuggled deeper into the bed, rolling her eyes.

"It's just the two of us here," Hermione continued as she settled into her small cot and pulled out her psychology book. She'd charmed the cover to look like a copy of Hogwarts a History; no one would bother sneaking a peek inside. "You don't have to pretend… we're adults, if you want to go sleep with Harry tonight just go. Use a disillusion charm until you get there so you don't get caught."

"What?" Ginny shot up.

"What? It seems crazy you two don't just share a room when you're home anyway. I know your parents are old fashioned, but you two have been together for like… almost a decade now?" Hermione estimated. They had been on and off for a while until several years ago. It took a long time to heal and be ready to build a future together after everything that had happened during their time at Hogwarts. She shrugged, "as long as you don't put babies before the wedding, it doesn't seem that terrible," she settled more comfortably and began to read through the book. She'd have to come back to highlight the important stuff later, when Ginny wouldn't see and question her.

'She's an actual idiot,' Ginny gaped at her best friend. She'd suffered all through dinner, watching Fred's sappy grin every time he thought something cute about her, and that dark look every time his thoughts turned dirty. It was like watching a trainwreck. She just couldn't stop watching, though there was only so much sappiness and lust a girl could watch on her brother's face before wanting to pull an Oedipus.

"Harry insists on being as respectful as possible," she finally responded faintly. "For some reason he finds it less unsavory for me to sneak up in the middle of the night sometimes than for me to just stay there."

"Yeah… that does sound like him. Mrs. Weasley is basically like a mother to him after all." Hermione's response was distracted as she reread a section about the superego.

Unable to wait any longer, Ginny cast the disillusionment charm and made her way out of the room in need of a thorough distraction from the most idiotic couple she'd ever had the misfortune of knowing.

'Fred's gonna have to burn every book she owns just to get her to see him.'


Fred paused on his way back to his room, the sudden scent of his sister's perfume making him turn around covering his lip to hide it. His brows furrowed seeing nothing but an empty hallway. Relaxing his gaze, he looked down the hallway until he saw it – a slight blurring of the stairs moving further up to the next landing. For a moment he stood still, unable to decide if it was worth the risk of being hexed to stop her. Licking the blood lazily dripping from his re-split lip. He yanked at the wreck that was his hair and turned back to his room instead. Giving Harry blue-balls was a sure-fire way to kill any chances of getting the help he needed. Besides… if he had his way, he'd be taking over one of their rooms to take care of his own case of blue balls sooner than later. His partial erection gave an interested twitch at the image of Hermione under him, begging him to make her come while he teased her. Yes… she would beg so pretty for him…


"Hey babe," Harry called out as soon as his door creaked open.

"What the hell happened?" Ginny released the charm as she hurried across the room to get a closer look at the bruises on his chest.

"Fred was…"

"I know," she cut him off, grabbing her wand to cast a charm she'd learned back in Hogwarts to heal hickies. Instantly the bruises were gone, earning her a raised eyebrow. She smiled innocently and rose up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss, successfully distracting him from whatever he was about to say.

Giving in all too easily, he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her easily onto the bed to kneel between his legs. He held her tighter and swiped the tip of his tongue over her lip, smiling and pulling away when she tried to deepen the kiss. Ginny narrowed her eyes at his teasing and pulled away making a face. He chuckled and pulled her back, intent on getting a proper taste of the feisty woman this time.

"What did you tell him?" Ginny asked as their lips brushed against each other, pulling away with a devious grin as he groaned.

"I told him to jerk off more so he wouldn't try on fuck her on the dinner table in front of your parents."

"What?" Ginny's cry was muffled by Harry successfully pulling her back to his chest and kissing her brutally. She tried desperately to pull away and demand an explanation, but Harry had the upper hand, biting her lip hard and flipping over to pin her down while she was distracted. He wrestled her hands up and held them in one of his while he used the other to pull her shirt up and bite her nipple hard enough to make her yelp.

"Stop and explain!" She demanded kicking her legs, inadvertently making it easier for him to slide between them and press his knee up to grind against her pussy hard enough to ride the border between pleasure and pain.

"Pretty sure he's a pleasure dom," Harry only answered to get her to stop fighting him as he licked his way over to her other breast, taking the nipple gently between his lips and laving his tongue slowly over it. "Judging from what he told me at least."

Losing her patience, Ginny yanked hard on his hair pulling him back, earning herself a needy groan from him. He stared down at her darkly; he loved it when she did that. Slowly his lips curled to a devious grin that promised retribution.

"What the hell did he tell you, and what the fuck is a pleasure dom?" she asked, looking away as she caught her breath, the muggle term lost on her. It took Harry's mind a moment to come full circle, momentarily confused. Ginny preferred their equal push and pull – he couldn't imagine either of them enjoying full domination of the other enough to take on the role in question. Besides, the wizarding world was fairly oblivious to the world of kink.

Testing her concentration, he fought against her hold for a moment, much preferring to indulge in her body than explain what her brother wanted to do to his sister. Unfortunately, she refused to be deterred. Instead, Ginny wiggled away, pulling her shirt back into place and scootched up and leaned back against the headboard with her arms crossed and legs crossed over at the ankles.

Harry groaned, recognizing the look on Ginny's face. He face-planted into his pillow, 'I swear to god, this whole damn family owes me.' He conveniently ignored the fact that this whole fiasco was for Hermione, choosing instead to focus on the fact that all the red heads in this house were intent on keeping him from his woman.

"Well?" she prompted impatiently. It wasn't like Harry to without information from her like this. They'd long since grown comfortable discussing sex with one another.

Harry sighed, giving up on his planned night of debauchery and sat up. "Come here," he pulled Ginny into his lap, letting her lean into him as he leaned back on the headboard. They sat cuddled up for a moment while he gathered his thoughts, and how to best explain in the least scarring way for them both.

"I don't exactly know a lot about it," he finally began. "I'm not sure its like an official title or anything…"

Ginny tilted her head up and gave him a confused look. "What, is it like a job title or something?"

Harry chucked, "no… but maybe, yes? We've spoken before about muggle kinky stuff, right?" He questioned unnecessarily. They'd actually enjoyed trying out some of it fairly regularly.

"Like BDSM?" Ginny finally seemed to catch on, wrinkling her nose. "I don't know… I know I said he was a good match for her, but I don't really think Hermione needs someone ordering her to suck him off while he eats dinner or something." Skepticism colored her voice as a blush colored her cheeks cutely. Harry couldn't resist.

"He's more likely to throw her on the table and eat her for dinner."

Ginny gasped in shock. She'd been thinking he looked at her like he wanted to do just that all dinner, but it never occurred to her that it would be an actual possibility. "How is that being dominant though… its sort of the opposite."

Harry ran his fingertips over the smooth skin of her arms, now grinning. It wasn't so bad trying to explain if it distracted her from his wondering hands. "I think the dominance is different. Withholding and forcing orgasms. Taking control of the other person's pleasure… More focus on aftercare than the kind of slave scenario you're thinking of."

"Aftercare?"

"Yeah," Harry nuzzled her. They'd never discussed specific aftercare in their experimentations either. Their constant equal push and pull seemed to negate that. Besides, there was never a lack of affection during or after for them. "Sort of a way for the dominate partner to take care of their submissive partner after… well after. They sort of comfort and nurture them to make sure they feel okay. Some people can be pretty intense during it all, so it's generally considered really important."

"Huh… Pretty sure Fred falls in that category…"Ginny contemplated that for a moment, obviously doing a much better job compartmentalizing the concept from the couple in question than he did. "Seems like a weird idea for me. Are we considering it a good or bad thing for her?"

Harry grimaced, once again reminded of all too many sexy fantasies Fred outlined during their talk, "I have no idea."


Fred slid into his room quietly, healing his lip in a flash before risking George seeing him bleeding. He knew firsthand that his twin did not do well with seeing him injured. Silently sliding the door closed, his eyes sought out the twin in question. His heart simultaneously skipped a beat and dropped when he found him. George's mattress had been knocked off the bed frame, and he was sitting on Fred's bed with his knees drawn to his chest. Half his face was buried in Fred's pillow, which muffled soft whimpers as George's glazed eyes stared far off into the distance at something that only he could see.

"Georgie," Fred whispered, frozen in place. It was happening again; he wished desperately he could figure out why. George was lost in his own torturous world. He wanted desperately to pull him back to the present. Safe and here with him. But he couldn't… he was never able to. In the past he'd tried. Everything from shaking to yelling, to holding tightly and whispering promises and safety. He'd been hexed and punched as a result. It was less painful than the times George would remain catatonic, lost to time as tears fell from his eyes.

Fred's heart broke, like every time before, his heart pounding as he recalled the discovery of the body of their old friend the image shifting to be George instead. No. He refused to let that happen. If he had to, he would let St. Mundgo's take George away for his own safety before losing him like that. He suddenly remembered holding Hermione tight when he explained the fate of many other witches and wizard's suffering like his brother, and her vehemence that he wasn't broken the way he feared. It felt like he could breathe again as he did the one thing he'd never done before. He turned and walked away.


Hermione stretched out, the back of her shoulders cramping from the awkwardly propped up position she sat in. Determinedly, she shifted her focus back to her book. The material wasn't unfamiliar, and she was flipping back and forth between passages about trauma, different classes of medication, and different theories and forms of therapy. Her eyes roamed hungrily over the text, committing it to memory. She'd have to find a neurology book as well to better understand the brain chemistry and anatomy.

She was so focused she failed to notice the sound of her door opening and softly closing. When the cot dipped near her hip she jumped with a barely muffled yelp, accidentally tossing the book, sending it flying over across the room.

'Shit, what page was I on?' Was her first delirious thought as she watched it sail away. It suddenly jerked to a stop and floated back to a set of waiting hands.

"Sorry," Fred whispered, offering the book back to her.

"Fred?" Hermione finally registered his presence there next to her. Unbidden, her eyes scanned over his body to the place where his hip pressed against the side of hers. Trailing her eye back up, she quickly realized something was wrong. Fred looked wrecked, and all color had drained from his face. That normal sparkle that lit his eyes was disturbingly dulled. "What happened?"

She shifted forward to grab his arm tightly, unknowingly soothing Fred's soul with the touch. Finally feeling back in control, Fred took a deep breath and grabbed her hand. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her inner wrist, heedless of possible repercussions. He needed her in that moment. To know that his woman was here with him. She opened the captured hand and brushed her fingers over his cheek as he kissed her. A wave of possessive love hit Fred low in the gut. Not an all-consuming need to own, but the sudden realization that he was just as much hers as she was his. He stood and gently tugged her hand, urging her up and to follow him.

"You asked about George losing himself earlier," he squeezed her hand as he checked the hallway before pulling her across to his room. "I can't bring him back." He lifted a finger to his lips, urging her silence as he slowly pushed open the door and granted her access to his and George's best kept secret. Hermione barely stifled a gasp, catching Fred's arm in a tight grip as she took in the site of his mirror image curled in a ball on the bed in obvious, invisible pain. She struggled against the tears threatening to fall. The room was wrecked, and George now had his whole face buried in his brother pillow sobbing softly as he tugged so hard on his scared ear there was little doubt it would be painful tomorrow.

Fred didn't resist when Hermione pulled away from him, though he hovered closely as she carefully picked her way over to his bed. His heart raced as he resisted pulling her back and into his arms. He wasn't sure if it was a need to protect her, or George, or his own heart…

Hermione kneeled on the floor in front of George, just out of reaching distance. She silently studied George, nothing but compassion and understanding on her face. Fred studied her, committing her face to his memory. Committing the moment as a whole to be engrained forever in his mind. Instinctually, he knew something big was coming. There was so much beauty in her understanding. It made him want to wrap them both up and steal them away someplace safe to take care of them.

"Can you summon some ice? Just a few pieces with a towel" Her soft voice broke his reverie. He was ridiculously pleased she asked him instead of doing so herself as he silently summoned the ice and towel to land softly in her hands. Pleased she'd finally asked him for something. Even if it was for the care of another, and undoubtedly because she could tell he was desperate to do something of use. Carefully she wrapped the ice loosely and stood, leaning closer to George. Before Fred could say anything, she's tucked the ice into one of George's hands, holding it firmly in her own.

"Feel the ice George… it's cold and hard," Hermione spoke even and low, her voice taking on a melodic quality that wrapped around Fred, gently soothing his frayed nerves and giving him a chance to recenter himself. "Smell… what do you smell?" She leaned in further, holding the crown of her head close to where his face was buried in the pillow, providing a new scent to mingle with that on the pillow. "We're right here with you. Me and Fred," she tilted her head to look at Fred.

Fred swallowed hard around the lump in his throat before speaking up, "I'm right here Georgie… I've got you." He did his best to mimic Hermione's tone, his voice but his voice sounded strangled and raspy. He edged closer to the bed, shocked by the lack of a lash out by George from the sudden stimuli. Carefully, he knelt next to Hermione and rested a hand on George's knee, his other itching to reach out to Hermione. His fingers twitched as he resisted the need clawing at him.

"You hear his voice, George? Deep… safe," Hermione took the bundle of ice and placed it at the partially exposed crook of George's neck, making Fred gasp and jerk as though to jump between her and George. In the past, George had actually tossed a few hexes his way when Fred tried to pull him out of one of his episodes. They'd missed by a mile, and he didn't even have his wand at hand this time, but the protective reflex was still there. Seemingly oblivious to Fred, Hermione took George's free hand and gently moved it to rest against the bed. "Isn't the bed so soft? I bet its super comfy."

She continued to speak as Fred split his attention between watching George for any signs of a reaction, and watching Hermione weave her spell over them both. To his surprise, he noticed a slight loosening of the tight muscles that held George hostage. His eyes widened, heart racing as he watched his brother react for the first time ever. It was subtle but it was much more than he'd ever gotten.

Hermione shifted up, placing the bundled ice back against the palm of George's hand. Fred felt the sting of tears as he watched George's hand close around the bundle and clutch it tight. It was the first time he'd ever seen George react to stimulus during an episode without flying off the handle. His gaze turned to Hermione. The fact that she remained oblivious to him somehow made him feel even better. She was so focused on bringing George back. She gently sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her hand to his shoulder and slowly dragged it over the back of his shoulders a few times before sliding it firmly up and over the back of his head, crawling his fingers along the back of his neck in a barely there massage. She watched his burrow further into the pillow, all but smothering himself. Reminiscent to earlier, in Flourish and Blott's, she began to run her fingers through his hair as she looked around the mess in the room. Fred watched as her expression turned from concerned to pensive before she furrowed her brow thoughtfully. Suddenly, she froze with lips parted, eyes growing wide. Fred turned his head, doing a double take around the room to try find whatever had caught her eye, but nothing stood out to him.

"Oh… George," a wealth of sadness washed through her voice, drawing Fred's attention back to her in concern, He was surprised to see her looking right back at him. She reached out and pulled Fred's hand from his brother's knee to yank him into her. He stumbled willingly, easily letting himself be maneuvered to press his forehead to the pillow George was hidden away in. "He's right here George. All you have to do is look up sweetie… Just sniff. You can smell his shampoo." As if to illustrate, Hermione pressed her nose behind Fred's ear and took a deep sniff. "He smells so good George. Freshly showered and everything." She gently pulled on the pillow, barely managing to move the corner of it to allow a small gap between it and George's face. The sounds of George's gasping, rapid breaths filled the room. Taking his cue, Fred jolted in closer and bent his head, shaking it a little waft his scent to George's hidden face.

Fred gripped George's knees with both his hands tightly. He could feel the tremors rattling George's body. Desperate, he pushed even closer and pressed his own face into the pillow, praying to whatever Gods were listening for help. It felt like they remained suspended in time and space forever when slowly, George's tremors began to lessen, his grip on the pillow loosening. The panic gripping Fred's heart lessened, and his instincts took hold. Moving quickly, he yanked the pillow away and replaced it with his own body, pressing in and holding his brother tight. Panicked by the sudden loss of his grounding security item, George let out a heart-breaking wail. Quickly, Fred wrapped around him tightly, cupping his head to press in into his shoulder. Almost as if she'd read his mind, Hermione was already jumping up to wrap around George from behind, grabbing hold of Fred to press them even more securely together.

"You have to open your eyes George. He's right here," she urged him having lost her battle against the tears at the sound of his terrified wail. "Please George," her voice cracked.

"Cloned Georgie," Fred wasn't sure what prompted him to invoke their safe word, but once it was out he couldn't seem to stop. He murmured it over and over as he held his twin tight. Somehow it seemed to penetrate, the desperate sobs and shaking slowly fading. George finally reacted, pulling Fred into a tight embrace back. They remained locked together in their embrace as George slowly came back to himself, sniffling as he shamelessly snuggled closer to his twin. They remained intertwined until their skin grew overheated and their tears dried, and tightened their grips on one another, unwilling to let go despite a sense of peace finally descending upon the room.

After a while, they became aware of a lack of pressure and warmth. Disoriented, George looks at Fred who in turn turned to look where Hermione was supposed to be. Instead, she was at the door, fully intent on sneaking out unnoticed. Following Fred's gaze George saw her too, becoming aware of her presence for the first time. His heart dropped, terrified at the idea of having been caught slipping away. Unconsciously, his grip tightened on Fred at the idea of being forced away to a mental ward.

"She brought you back," Fred whispered, easily guessing where George's mind was going. She froze, hand on the door undoubtedly having heard him.

"… How?" George's voice was scratchy and low. He tried to clear his throat and winced. It hurt now, and a pounding was building in his temples. He closed his eyes, the lights starting to hurt. Without a word, Hermione scurried out of the room.

George turned to Fred, eyes wide and frightened. "It's okay," Fred reassured him, pulling him back into his arms. Carefully, he managed to maneuver their bodies to be able to lay down, squished together and hardly fitting on the single small bed. He wasn't so sure that now was the right time to go into the full details of how she came to help them that evening. He wasn't so sure George wouldn't balk when he learned about their plan. Instead, they laid silently soaking up one another's presence.

"Here," Hermione's voice made them both jump as she reappeared in the doorway, now holding water, a pain reliever, and a sleepless draught. A small snack floated along too, held aloft with her wand. Her sudden exit wasn't an escape, it was to retrieve her wand. She pulled the nightstand to sit in front of George and laid out her bounty. "Sip some water first. Then the pain reliever and snack. Then finish the water," she instructed as she shifted everything around for ease of access, gently helped him sit up, and carefully placed the water in his shaking hand. He took it mindlessly, stunned to see her bustling around, waving her wand around to resettle his mattress in place and urged the sheets and covers to tuck themselves neatly back in place. She shot him a glance, arching her brow as she nodded at the glass. Obediently, he began to sip. Continuing along, she set the rest of the room in motion, cleaning it even better than it had been before. Fred watched her feeling twitchy as he sat up and pressed him side securely against George's in an unconscious need to keep him anchored. For the first time being truly grateful for his ability to use wandless, silent magic, he set about helping right the room. Being able to stay with George while making sure his witch didn't overdo it helped calmed his nerves. Judging from the look she'd shoot him from the corner of her eye, she was well aware of his assistance too. He wasn't exactly being subtle. Or heeding her silent demands to let her take care of it alone. By the time 'd finished, George had downed the pain potion and was picking at the scones she had procured.

"Try to finish at least one," she urged him softly, "your body needs the fuel after all of that." Her eyes flitted to Fred's for barely a second, but he had no trouble reading what she wanted. He reached out, grabbed another scone and began to eat it painstakingly slow as well. For whatever reason, seeing him snacking too seemed to make some of the tension leak from George's body.

George nodded, refusing to meet her eye but continued to watch her as he continued to force bite after bite. Seeing his water cup low, she quickly filled in from the tip of her wand. Taking a quick look around and seeing nothing else amiss, she finally sat cross legged on the floor in front of Fred and George and nodded encouragingly as George drank more of the water and nibbled on a second scone.

"Why are you down there," he and Fred asked in unison after a moment of awkward staring, making her smile to see them in harmony again.

"I'll just stay long enough for you to finish so I can clear up," she assured, obviously wanting to make sure he came down safely from his panic attack before she left.

"That's not what I meant…" Fred trailed off in surprise as George reached out and snatch Hermione by the front of her shirt to yank her up off the floor and plop her down right in his lap. Instinctually, his hands gripped her hips to catch her before his arms slid around her to hold her steady. He wasn't sure what just happened, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about a lap full of sexy witch either.

"Now what?" George turned and questioned them both, unable to meet either of their eyes.


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