Silence is Golden
The library was unusually quiet that afternoon, even by its typically serene standards. The usual murmur of hushed voices was replaced with the soft rustling of pages turning and the scratch of quills on parchment. A few students dotted the long oak tables, their faces buried deep in the pages of their textbooks, seemingly oblivious to anything but the study at hand. The air was thick with the familiar scent of ink, parchment, and the faintest trace of old leather from the countless volumes lining the shelves. The cozy atmosphere, however, did nothing to ease Hermione’s rising frustration.
She had arrived early, as always, her books and study materials neatly organized before her like a battlefield waiting for an opponent. With meticulous care, she laid out the study plan she had crafted for the twins, breaking their coursework into digestible pieces, ensuring each subject was given its due time. Every spell was listed with its theoretical background, examples, and even additional practice exercises. She was not one for half-measures, and today’s focus was on mastering nonverbal spells, a skill that was critical for their sixth-year Charms exams. She had thought of everything—when they would study, when they would review, when to practice spells, and even when they would take breaks. If she was going to help Fred and George pass, she had to treat their study sessions like a military operation.
Of course, as was to be expected, Fred and George were late.
Hermione tapped her fingers against the table, glancing down at her watch with a sigh. They had agreed to meet at precisely one o'clock, and now it was well past that. She had half a mind to just begin without them, but part of her felt she might as well have the twins present when she worked her way through their chaos. The clock on the wall ticked louder than ever, each passing second gnawing at her patience. She was just about to start sorting through the next section of her notes when, at long last, the twins sauntered in, their unmistakable grins spreading across their faces.
She had half a mind to start without them, but just as she let out a sigh of frustration, the twins sauntered in, wearing identical grins. Fred plopped into the seat across from her, stretching his arms lazily behind his head.
Fred was the first to make his entrance, his usual swagger on full display. He sauntered toward the table, flopping dramatically into the chair across from Hermione as though he were an actor arriving on stage. With a grand flourish, he stretched his arms over his head in an exaggerated yawn, causing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into that signature mischievous grin Hermione had grown all too familiar with.
“Ah, our esteemed professor awaits,” Fred said, his tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm, his eyes glinting with that unmistakable spark of mischief. He seemed to thrive in moments like these, fully aware of Hermione’s ability to be both irritated and amused by his antics at the same time.
George, not far behind, followed suit with a dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He slid into the chair beside Fred with an air of exaggerated sorrow. “We apologize for our tardiness, Professor Granger,” he said with a mock-serious tone, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You see, we were detained by a very serious matter—”
“—the tragic disappearance of our favorite quill,” Fred interrupted, his voice dripping with mock solemnity. He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “We had to hold a moment of silence, you know, for the quill’s valiant service.”
Hermione’s brow furrowed as she felt an all-too-familiar sigh building in her chest. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their humor—on some level, she did—but it was becoming increasingly clear that Fred and George had absolutely no sense of urgency when it came to their studies. And considering their exam schedules were rapidly approaching, Hermione couldn’t afford to let them waste any more time.
“You’re five minutes late,” she replied, her tone teetering between mild exasperation and weary patience. She took a deep breath, knowing that snapping at them would be futile. Instead, she refocused her energy on the matter at hand, doing her best to push aside the frustration she felt at their lack of seriousness.
Fred, ever the carefree spirit, barely batted an eyelash. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he waved her off as though her irritation was nothing more than a passing breeze. “Time is a construct, Hermione. Really, it’s merely an illusion, you know? The true measure of time is how much fun you’re having.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed as if he were already lost in some imaginary world where the concept of deadlines didn’t exist.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, her patience beginning to fray at the edges. She’d long learned that arguing with Fred was like arguing with a brick wall—unproductive and often exhausting. But she had no choice. She was determined to make this study session count. They had to focus, and if she had to drag them there, she would.
Letting out a long, resigned sigh, Hermione pushed the neatly prepared study plan across the table toward the twins. She knew they wouldn’t appreciate it as much as she hoped, but she wasn’t about to let them derail the whole session because of their usual antics. Her tone was firm, bordering on no-nonsense. “This,” she said, her voice unwavering, “is your study plan for Charms. I’ve taken the liberty of planning out every detail.”
Fred and George exchanged skeptical glances, clearly unsure of what to make of the densely packed parchment Hermione had laid before them. They both leaned forward, eyeing the schedule as if it were some foreign document, completely alien to the typical chaos they were used to. George picked up the paper, his face crinkling into a frown as he read through the meticulously color-coded schedule. Each section had a specific time allotted—when to read, when to practice, when to review, and when to take breaks. The various charms they’d be learning were outlined in full detail, accompanied by theoretical explanations, notes for additional practice, and space for their own observations. The entire plan was designed with the precision of a well-oiled machine, carefully constructed over hours of Hermione’s personal effort to ensure they stayed on track.
Fred let out an exaggerated exhale, clearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of detail that went into the study schedule. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms wide as if the weight of the study plan was more than he could bear. “Merlin’s beard, Granger, have you planned out our next six months down to the second?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock awe.
“Seven,” Hermione corrected without missing a beat, folding her arms tightly across her chest and glaring at him. “I accounted for the holidays as well. I wouldn’t want you to waste valuable time over the break.”
George, still scanning the paper, shook his head slowly as he let out a quiet chuckle. “You really are something else, Hermione,” he muttered, clearly impressed but equally bewildered by the amount of effort she had put into their study regimen.
Hermione’s lips curved into a faint, determined smile. “I take my responsibilities seriously,” she said, her tone softening just a fraction, though her eyes remained as sharp and focused as ever. “And that includes making sure you two don’t completely fail at Charms this year. We’re focusing on nonverbal spells today, and if you want any hope of passing your exams, you need to master them.” Her gaze hardened as she leaned forward, her voice unwavering. “And you will, because I’m going to make sure of it.”
Fred and George exchanged another glance, and for a fleeting moment, Hermione thought she saw a glimmer of genuine understanding in their eyes. But that feeling evaporated almost immediately when Fred shot her a grin that was equal parts cheeky and skeptical.
“Nonverbal spells, eh?” Fred said, twirling his wand lazily between his fingers. “The art of looking like we’re doing absolutely nothing while secretly pulling off some very impressive magic. I think I’m quite suited for this.” His grin widened, the twinkle of mischief back in full force.
Hermione barely spared him a glance. “Exactly,” she replied, ignoring his playful tone. “Nonverbal magic is about intent. Sixth-year Charms is going to require you to cast without speaking, and if you want any hope of getting through your exams in one piece, you need to start getting comfortable with it. So let’s begin with something simple.”
She handed each of them a textbook, her eyes sharp and expectant. “Try casting Accio on your textbooks without speaking the incantation aloud. Just concentrate and use your wands. Focus on the intent, and the magic will follow.”
Fred and George exchanged looks of casual confidence, both raising their wands in unison. “Easy enough,” George muttered, his grin as wide as ever.
Fred nodded. “Piece of cake.”
Hermione watched with barely concealed amusement as they both focused intently on their books, wand tips aimed with precision. She could practically feel the intensity of their concentration, and she waited in silence for the magic to happen.
Seconds passed. Then a few more. But nothing stirred.
George squinted at his book, clearly perplexed. He flicked his wand again, but still, nothing. His brows furrowed in frustration as he muttered something under his breath. Fred, on the other hand, was staring at his textbook with a look of complete disbelief, as if it had personally offended him. He flicked his wand again, harder this time, but still no movement.
Hermione let out a long breath, her patience thinning. “You’re not concentrating properly,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “It’s not just about flicking your wands. You need to concentrate on willing the magic into existence. The spell requires intent. Try again, and focus on that.”
Fred tossed his wand down in frustration, leaning back in his chair with a dramatic groan. “I am concentrating! I swear, I can feel my brain sweating with the effort.”
Hermione shook her head, refusing to let them off the hook. “Try again,” she insisted. “And this time, focus on the intent of the spell. It’s not just about what you’re doing with your wand. It’s about what you’re doing with your mind.”
With a reluctant sigh, George raised his wand again, his focus hardening as he aimed it at his textbook. He glared at it with sheer determination, his wand flicking once more. This time, there was a slight movement. The book trembled on the table, then, with a sudden jerk, it shot off the surface—directly at Fred, smacking him square in the face.
Fred let out a startled yelp, stumbling back in his chair, hands flailing to catch his balance as the book ricocheted off his face. For a long moment, he just sat there, stunned, rubbing his nose with a dazed expression.
There was a beat of stunned silence before George erupted into laughter, clutching his stomach as he struggled to breathe through his chuckles. “Well, Fred,” he gasped, tears beginning to form in his eyes, “at least you got a reaction out of the book this time.”
Hermione couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips, even as she pretended to scold them. “Well, at least you got some movement,” she said with a mock sternness.
Fred groaned, still rubbing his nose. “Great. Now George can summon books straight at me.”
George wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning wildly. “Most effective studying we’ve ever done,” he declared, barely able to contain his laughter.
Hermione sighed, but there was no hiding the fondness in her eyes. “Alright, that’s enough for today,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s move on before you two destroy each other with your wands.”