Sorry this has taken so long. I just haven't been feeling writing lately. I have half of another chapter done though and I think I know what is next. I am going to finish this story this year. It is NOT dragging on ANOTHER year.

Chapter 29

Gideon sat in the kitchen, feet propped on another chair, helping his brother finish off the last of a very fine bottle of muggle whiskey. He rolled the smooth, smoky liquor around his mouth, savoring the burn as it went down. Perfection.

He pulled the steak he'd been holding to the left half of his face aside and turned to Fabian.

"How do I look, brother? Swelling gone down yet?"

Fabian blinked out of his own reverie and inspected his twin's face. "Hmm. Better, still rather black and blue though. I bet if you ask real sweet like, George would let you have some of that special bruise paste he's got." He chuckled. "You look bloody ridiculous."

Gideon sat back, replacing the steak and laughed softly as well. "Oi, it was worth it though. Honestly, they've been sharing a bed for months. He's got more self control than I have. Hermione's fit."

"She is. Plus they've been mad for each other almost as long."

"They've been at it for ages. I wish I had his stamina." He took another sip. "You think cousin Sirius's werewolf friend would mind giving me a nip too?"

"Bloody hell, mate. You really are an idiot, do you know?"

Gideon laughed. "What would I do without you to remind me now and again, brother."

They both fell silent, Gideon still quietly envying his nephew and wondering if his joke had any merit after all. Eventually the space between them began to feel heavy with his brother's anxious thinking. Gideon sighed.

"Alright, I'll ask our little cousin if he'll ask for the both of us. I'd hate to unbalance the occasional ménage à trois."

"Twat."

Hearing it lacked any real malice, Gideon squinted over from beneath the steak at his brother. "Oi, what's the matter with you?"

Fabian finished his drink and frowned, reaching for the bottle. "Do you think… well it's what George said earlier." He topped off both of their glasses and stared thoughtfully into his own for a moment before going on. "We've never forgotten to use the charm, have we?"

Gideon nearly choked on his whiskey. "What? Are you kidding?" The steak hit the table with a slap as he sat up to stare agog at his brother. "How long did we work to master the wandless, wordless contraception charm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Until it was second nature, ya I know… but what if…"

"No." Gideon stood, pointing at his brother. "We never forget, even completely pissed. Muggleborns are normal. George was just being a dickhead."

Now Fabian was standing too. "Well, what if it doesn't work as well wandless? What if we aren't as bloody brilliant as we think we are? Could we be dads, Gideon?"

"Fuck sakes!" He felt positively ill. "You're a bloody sorry drunk, Fab."

His brother clutched at his hair. "We're not exactly easy for a muggle bird to get in touch with. We could have scores of kids!"

Face contorting with horror, Gideon snatched the bottle and both glasses from the table. "Right, you're cut off, mate. You're talking nonsense."

"Oi!" Fabian made to dash around the table for his whiskey when they shared a sudden shiver of magic, causing the more drunk of the pair to fall to the floor.

"Bollocks, what now?" Someone had crossed their wards. Just what they needed. Stepping over Fabian, Gideon rummaged through a cabinet for a pair of pepper up potions. He reached down to stick one in his brother's hand, downing his own on the way up to the front door.

Slipping his wand into his hand and hollering over his shoulder for his brother to hurry up, Gideon cracked open the door. When no threat was immediately apparent, he opened it wider and stepped out—and stopped short.

"What is it, Gid?" Fabian, finally having made it up the stairs, peaked around him. "Who is that?"

Gideon toed over the unconscious man on their front step. "Little cousin?" Sirius groaned to be moved, but didn't open his eyes. There was blood seeping through one pant leg and his face was twisted in pain.

"What's he doing here?"

Crouching beside the younger man, Gideon shook his head. "More importantly, what happened to him?"

Fabian squinted in the Dark and gasped. "Bloody hell. Get him inside, I'll see what I can do." He helped lug Sirius through the door and looked up the stairs. "Probably better get those two down here."

Grunting—their little cousin wasn't so little anymore—Gideon scoffed. "We can handle this, Fab. It's just Sirius. We don't need to interrupt them."

He shook his head. "He's been tortured, Gid. This might be serious." When Gideon chuckled, a cheeky retort on his tongue, Fabian glared. "Don't." He set Sirius's feet down and pulled out his wand. "And don't think our conversation from earlier is finished. Expecto Patronum!"

The street beyond the parlor window was deceptively empty. With an anxious sigh, Gideon let the drape fall back in place and turned back to where his brother sat beside a still unconscious Sirius. The golden glow of a diagnostic charm hovered in front of his face.

"Well?"

Fabian looked grim. "I was right, he's been tortured. Not for terribly long, though. It's all fresh, more or less."

The door to the parlor swung open, revealing a rumpled looking George and Hermione. In another situation, Gideon might have laughed and made a rude comment about their appearance. He couldn't be certain from across the room, but it looked as though his nephew had put his shirt on inside out… and backwards.

"Is that Sirius Black?" George had stopped a few steps into the room, sharp eyes flicking between Sirius and his girlfriend who had immediately gone to the injured man's side, bag of potions in hand. Voice a low growl, he glared hard at Sirius. "What's he doing here? Is he alive?"

"We don't know yet, and yes." Gideon, noticing how tense his nephew suddenly was, crossed the room to stand beside him. "He's been tortured." He put a cautious hand on his shoulder. "He isn't a threat, George. He's family."

Not taking his darkened eyes from Sirius, George gestured angrily at him. "Bellatrix and Andromeda are sisters, Gideon. Dumbledore's been filling his head with nonsense, turning him against us. You know what Kingsley said."

"Well, he hasn't got a wand that we can find." Gideon scrubbed his free hand along his jaw. "We could always cast an incarcerous before we wake him up if it would make you feel better."

Hermione, having heard them from where she knelt, looked back at them over her shoulder, frowning in confusion. When she caught sight of the look on George's face, she glared at him before shaking her head and turning back to her patient.

Silent annoyance understood, George ran his tongue along his teeth and flexed his fists—visibly attempting to control himself. "No, that's not necessary."

Thinking the threat had passed, Gideon clapped him on the back and stepped up to his brother. "Can we wake him up now? I'd like some answers before his friends, or whoever did that to him come looking for him."

"Right." Fabian helped Hermione pour a pain potion down his throat and sat back. After a final look at his diagnostic charm, he canceled it and aimed his wand at Sirius. "Ready Hermione? He might wake up ready to fight. Renervate."

Sirius woke with a jolt, gasping and flailing against the back of the chaise. His grey eyes looked wildly around the room, fingers searching in vain for his wand.

"What have you done to me?"

Before any of them could say anything, Sirius swung an arm around at the two who were closest to him and attempted to flee. Hermione and Fabian leapt to their feet and back to miss his attempt at them only for him to fall to the floor in a groaning heap at their feet.

"Sirius!" Hermione made to help him up but the injured prat wasn't finished.

"Get away from me!" One arm swung back and forth at his perceived enemies, the other attempted to drag him away. "You're with You-Know-Who now!"

George—who had nimbly pulled his girlfriend back just as Sirius's fist met the empty air where her face had been—glared back at Gideon, snarling furiously. "Not a threat, eh? Oh, 'ha ha let's all laugh at the twitchy half werewolf. What an idiot he is.' Well, maybe an incarcerous doesn't sound so stupid now, does it?"

"All right, nephew. Point taken." Gideon elbowed aside his brother and sent the aforementioned spell at Sirius, then levitated the struggling man back to the chaise. "Calm down, cousin. No need to go striking ladies."

Fabian, now standing beside him, shook his head and tsk'd. "Very rude of you."

"She's not a lady, she's a Death Eater!" Sirius growled and struggled a moment more before the lingering exhaustion from his ordeal caught up with him.

Incensed, Hermione pushed her way between Gideon and Fabian. "I'm a muggleborn! Dumbledore knows that. And what about these two? They and their sister's family are well known blood traitors. Death Eaters, indeed."

Sirius looked dubious. "You-Know-Who would be forgiving, I'm sure, for the famous Prewett twins. And he even reached out to Lily Evens. She's a muggleborn too but he claimed he'd overlook it for someone of her skill." He gave Hermione a critical once over. "Maybe he made the same offer to you."

Feeling the sparks begin to fly off of her hair and still needing answers, Gideon wrapped an arm around her shoulders—yanking the arm back almost immediately at his nephew's possessive grumblings—and continued in a mollifying tone. "We know how ridiculous that is, love. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to hex him, he deserves it naturally, but just now we need a few answers."

He felt a bit bad for being so patronizing but she could shout at him later too. She would do, if her annoyed glare was anything to go on.

"Alright cousin," he drew his wand and knelt, aiming it in Sirius's face. "How did you come to our place? You've been tortured, ya? Who did it and are we currently in danger of an attack?" When he only grit his teeth and glared up at him, Gideon sighed. "Look, we can't help you if you don't talk to us, Sirius. I know you trust Dumbledore implicitly—and I don't have time to explain to you how idiotic that is—but he's wrong this time."

When he opened his mouth to argue, Fabian cut him off. "We have legitimate reasons for leaving the Order. Dumbledore knows why we're no longer working for him. But that doesn't mean we joined up with old Voldy-shorts. There are more than two sides to any conflict, Sirius."

"Voldy-shorts?" For a moment, Sirius looked thoughtful. "But… Remus said he saw you with Snivellus. He's a Death Eater! If you're not working with them, why did you meet up with one of them?"

Gideon opened his mouth to explain, and found he had nothing to say. Every excuse that popped into his head would make them look worse, and he wouldn't accept their refusal to explain. They certainly couldn't tell him the truth. He'd go straight to Dumbledore or worse, get himself captured again.

Thankfully, Hermione had an answer on hand. "He reached out to us. We didn't know he was a Death Eater so we had no reason to ignore him. He wanted to talk to us about our hats." She crossed her arms and sniffed. "We use arithmantic layering in the spells and, as he does something very similar with potions, he was interested in learning what he could from us."

Incensed, Sirius scoffed, flipping his hair that had fallen in front of his face. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Fabian shrugged. "Hey, it's undeniable the effect our hats have had on You-Know-Who's grand scheme. If Snape is a Death Eater, it would make sense why he'd want to talk to us."

Finally finding his voice, Gideon helped the ruse along. "We didn't tell him anything, of course."

Both twins chorused, "Proprietary."

Gideon continued. "That is probably why he looked so grumpy when we went our separate ways."

"No…" Sirius shook his head slowly. "That's just his normal look."

Frowning thoughtfully, he looked around the room at each face in turn. "If that's true, and you say Dumbledore knows why you left the Order, why did he tell us you'd taken up with… Voldy-shorts, was it?"

"So none of you would think to associate with us ever again." Gideon picked a bit of lint from his jacket sleeve and sniffed. "He'd hate to have to answer for his own mistakes. He's a great man, Dumbledore. But good, he isn't."

"Now," Fabian clapped his hands together to gain their little cousin's wandering attention. "We've answered your questions, it's time you answered ours. Are we currently in danger of attack? Who tortured you? Should we expect to see Death Eaters or Order members filling the street outside our wards?"

Sirius shrugged. "Untie me, would you? This is bloody uncomfortable." When they complied, he ran a hand through tangled curls and sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea. Last night, I was following you on Dumbledore's orders when you got in that skirmish. Cousin Bella saw me and must have decided I would be more fun to play with than any of you."

Behind them, Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. "Was she the one that tortured you?"

Gideon looked back at her, taking in the fierce look on his nephew's face as he wrapped an arm around her. He'd forgotten Bellatrix had had her vile way with Hermione once, too. It was almost a shame that it hadn't happened yet for Bella. If Hermione ever got the chance for justice, it wouldn't feel half so good if the mad bitch didn't even remember what she'd done to her.

"No, actually." Sirius shook his head and looked almost petulant. "That was Snivellus. We… didn't get on well in school. I guess our dear cousin knew that and thought it'd be great fun to give him the chance for a little revenge."

After the display they had witnessed in Hogsmeade that spring, it was an effort not to roll his eyes at the deliberate downplay of the marauder's bullying. Gideon settled for a sardonic, arched brow. "Well, considering you're here and not dead, he must not have been too upset with you." He cocked his head to the side. "How did you escape?"

"I…" Sirius frowned and glared up at him in confusion, seemingly having remembered something. "No, you're lying!" In place of a wand, he aimed an accusatory finger in Gideon's face. "It was Snape! He… he told me to come to you! Why would he do that if you weren't working together?"

"Hang on… what?" Gideon and his brother shared a look. "Snape told you to come to us? How did you escape? Did he help you with that too?"

"Erm… sort of?" Frustrated confusion twisted his young face as if everything he believed conflicted with the facts before him. "He used the cruciatus, but… not for long. Then he was in my mind. I've never been great at occlumency but I could tell he knew what he was looking for."

He paused, looking hard at the floor. "What he showed me… he shouldn't have known to look for. I have no idea how he could have known…" He shook his head after a cautious glance at his audience. "Well what it amounted to was a plan to escape. He didn't help me, per se but I was so messed up I don't know if I'd have come up with the same idea before Bella decided to kill me."

"And this plan," Fabian tapped his wand against his palm, trying to parse what Sirius had said and what he'd left out. "It included sending you to us? Are you certain?"

While Sirius answered his brother's questions, Gideon looked back at Hermione and George. How would they explain that? They must have been thinking the same, if the faint panic on their faces was anything to go by. With his own admission of poor occlumency skill, they definitely couldn't tell him the truth.

Letting out a puff of air, Gideon turned back to their guest and stood, aiming for casual aloof. "Well, that's very interesting. But I've no idea why your young Death Eater friend would send you here. Must be because we're so close to Lestrange estate."

No one said anything for several seconds. Both Fabian and Sirius stared at him dubiously until his brother rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, that's probably it. After all, we may have a secret-kept home but our locations' no secret. Must have decided he's not as bloodthirsty as his peers after all."

Sirius squinted between them as though he didn't entirely believe the hastily thrown together lie. But after hardly any more thought he nodded and flopped back on the chaise. "Honestly, I'm too tired and sore to care much more. As long as you aren't working with You Know Who and you won't hurt me, I think I'll just take a short kip here if that's alright. I'm sure James and Remus will be looking for me soon when I don't turn up."

Both Prewett men sagged with relief, Fabian kneeling again beside the chaise to finish tending to his injuries.

No longer worried about being attacked, Gideon turned around to observe his nephew and his lady.

George's brow was furrowed as she muttered to him. His hands smoothed up and down her arms anxiously, her own cupping his face.

Hermione must have said something suggestive, because all at once the tension melted from his body. He smirked and slid his hands down to her waist, pulling her close for a non-to-chaste kiss.

And then they were smiling at one another, a secret, heated sort of smile that spoke of deep passion and interrupted lovemaking. They didn't look away from one another as George spoke.

"Well, if you don't need us anymore… we're a bit busy."

Gideon grinned. "Second wind?"

Hermione, the cheeky witch, smirked as George began to pull her away. "Try sixth."

Damn. His laughter followed them out. Not for the last time, Gideon thought wistfully about his earlier plan.

"Hey cousin, your werewolf friend, he's a generous bloke, right?"

GH

Maybe next week, his blood wouldn't race whenever he sensed even the smallest threat of danger. Maybe after the full moon he'd be able to control his raging need to protect her, for her. Maybe he'd learn to control himself. Maybe it wouldn't always be like this.

But tonight, he'd lost any semblance of control. Sirius had smelled like blood and imminent danger and set his own blood racing. Now Hermione's scent —the sweet, loamy aura that always hung around her and the musky tang that was the product of their lovemaking—clouded every one of his senses.

While Sirius hadn't really been a threat, when he'd swung at her, George had wanted to tear the limb from his body. He knew it was ridiculous, but Black smelled like dog and he'd tried to hurt her. Some unnamed, new part of him needed to claim her again.

She let out a sharp gasp when he pressed her hard into the wall halfway down the hall. He was devouring her. Sucking and nipping and languorous open mouth kisses across her shoulders, up her neck, on her lips.

He needed Hermione, needed to be inside of her, magically, physically. He was dimly aware that he shouldn't take her there in the hallway, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to act on that knowledge.

"George…" Her nails dug into his lower back where she clung to him. "George—" His name fell from her lips in a frantic gasp that became a moan as he pressed himself between her thighs. "George, please, wait!"

With a groan, George pulled back just enough to look down into her face. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

A breathy laugh stirred the air between them before she reached up to pull his forehead to hers. "No, no, George I'm… I'm OK." Her brown eyes bore into his own. "We have something important to do first." Her smile was everything. "Make me your wife, George."

How could he possibly have forgotten. Grinning down at her, he traced his thumb up her cheek. "I was so distracted by our guest and my own passions that I forgot everything else." He dropped a much more chaste kiss on her lips. "Forgive me?"

"Of course, George."

Alone in their room, they faced one another and drew their wands, both grinning like fools. "I, George Fabian Weasley, do bind myself to thee, Hermione Jean Granger." He took her left hand in his and brought it to his lips. "In body, spirit and magic. My strength, my labor, my life forever belong to you. I, your husband, and thee, my wife."

Hermione let out a watery laugh and took a step closer. "I, Hermione Jean Granger, do bind myself to thee, George Fabian Weasley, in body, spirit and magic. My strength, my labor, my life forever belong to you. I, your wife, and thee, my husband."

He lowered his lips so close to hers they brushed as they whispered the ancient incantation.

"Undeb yn cael ei ffugio. Mewn cnawd, mewn ysbryd, mewn hud."

And then he was kissing his bride as their magic rushed through them, binding them together for life. Her arms wound around his neck, his around her waist as they clung to one another, desperate again.

"Husband?"

He grinned against her lips at the new designation. "Yes, my dearest wife?"

"Finish what you almost started out in the hall, please?"

Before she'd even finished the request, he'd already gathered her up—her long legs wrapping around his waist—and walked them halfway across their room. His answer, uttered between kisses, was the last coherent thought he had that night. "As you wish."

A/N Is it fast that they've married already? Maybe. Do I care? No. It felt like this was the right place for this to happen. I needed them to get married in a timely fashion so, oh well. I hope you like it. So the incantation for the marriage rite is in Welsh, according to Google. It means, "A union is forged, in flesh, in spirit, in magic." Approximately. Who knows with Google. Anyway, I chose Welsh because it's the oldest language in Britain? That's the closest I could get. Olde English was too complicated, middle English not different enough (and didn't really make sense given when it was used), and I really wanted this to be ancient. Like, from the beginnings of magic on the Isle. The vows were obviously added later but still traditional in my little universe. They were heavily inspired by the vows Severus and Hermione trade in the fic, Fate Set Right by mltrefry. It's definitely my all time favorite fic, and while it is a Sevmione, it ticks the Fremione box in a different way as well. I HIGHLY recommend it.