One Floo Away
The apartment above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was a curious place, much like the brothers who inhabited it. It was a chaotic mess of mismatched furniture, the walls adorned with posters advertising their latest concoctions—“Exploding Candy: The Only Treat That Bites Back!” and “Pineapple-Infused Pygmy Puff Soap: It’s Not Just for Bath Time Anymore!”—and the air was always thick with the scent of magic and sweet explosions. Despite the mayhem that ruled the downstairs shop, the apartment had a strangely comfortable feel—familiar and warm, like a haven where Fred and George could be themselves without the constant pressure of running a growing business.
Hermione sat on the worn-out couch that had once been bright green but now was a faded shade, a large book propped open in her lap. She was surrounded by the usual disarray: scattered papers, unlit sparklers, a few odd trinkets from the shop, and a half-eaten sandwich on a plate beside her. She had been sitting there for the better part of an hour, reading, but her attention kept drifting. The brothers were, as usual, making noise somewhere in the kitchen, their voices barely audible over the clinking of dishes and the occasional burst of laughter. They’d been in high spirits all afternoon, as they usually were when they weren’t buried in work, but today, Hermione found it harder than usual to fully immerse herself in the easy banter.
The truth was, she was feeling a little out of sorts. The summer had flown by, just like every year before it, and soon, it would be time for her to return to Hogwarts for her final year. A year that would, inevitably, lead to the end of this chapter of her life. The thought of leaving this place, of not being able to see Fred and George nearly every day, weighed on her more than she cared to admit. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—say any of that aloud. It was silly, wasn’t it? To feel so attached to them when she knew the real world, and her responsibilities as Head Girl, were waiting. She could focus on her studies and figure out her future once school was over.
But for now, she just wished she had more time with them.
Hermione sighed softly, adjusting her position on the couch and trying to get comfortable again. Her eyes flickered back to the pages of the book, but the words seemed to blur together as her thoughts wandered.
In the kitchen, Fred and George had finally emerged, each carrying a steaming mug of what smelled like hot chocolate. The sight of them, so perfectly synchronized, made her smile despite herself. They looked a little bit like mischief incarnate, with the easy confidence that came from having not just a thriving business, but also a sense of having conquered the world—at least, the world of jokes, tricks, and laughter.
Fred was the first to notice her distracted expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he exchanged a quick, silent glance with George. Without hesitation, Fred dropped onto the armrest next to Hermione, setting his mug on the coffee table before leaning in, his voice casual but with a hint of concern.
"Something on your mind, Hermione?" he asked, his fingers brushing the side of her book as he tried to catch her eye. His grin was playful, but the look in his eyes was softer than usual.
Hermione blinked, forcing herself out of her thoughts and up to meet his gaze. She quickly closed her book and set it aside, a practiced smile appearing on her face as she waved him off. “Oh, nothing,” she said lightly, but the words didn’t feel right as they left her mouth. “Just thinking.”
George appeared a moment later, his grin mischievous, eyes twinkling with that usual mischievous glint. He perched himself on the coffee table in front of her, his legs stretched out casually, leaning back on his hands. “Thinking, huh?” he said with mock surprise. “Dangerous stuff.”
Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the act. “You sure? Because you’ve been awfully quiet.” He tilted his head, studying her intently. “I think someone’s feeling a little melancholy about going back to school.”
Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, and she sat up straighter, immediately shaking her head. "I’m not," she protested, though her voice had an edge to it that she immediately regretted. She had tried to avoid thinking about how much she would miss the twins in the coming months, and hearing Fred say it out loud only made it worse. "I’m just… I’m fine," she added quickly, brushing her hair back with a hand, though the defensive tone in her voice didn’t help hide the truth.
Fred’s lips curled into a teasing grin. “Fine, huh?” he repeated. “Because, you know, you’re usually so full of energy and excitement when school rolls around.” He lowered his voice mockingly. “It’s not like you’re the first person in line for the Head Girl duties or anything, right?”
Hermione rolled her eyes in an exaggerated gesture. “It’s not that,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s just… I don’t know. It feels like everything is changing, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.” She hesitated before continuing. “I mean, next year, we’ll all be graduated and... I don’t know where we’ll be, or what we’ll be doing. I guess I’m just… not sure about leaving this behind. This place. You two.”
George’s grin softened, and for the first time that afternoon, he dropped his usual teasing. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, looking at her with an uncharacteristic seriousness. “Change is inevitable,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be bad.” He let out a soft laugh. “You’ve got us, Hermione. We’re not going anywhere. We’ll always be here for you, whether it’s for a chat, a laugh, or a ridiculous amount of pranks to keep you occupied.”
Fred nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the couch, looking down at her with a fond expression. “Exactly,” he added. “You think we’ll let you be bored at school? Please.” He leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with the familiar mischief that never really left him. “By the time we’re done with you, you’ll be so busy dodging pranks and dealing with our little surprises, you won’t have time to miss us.”
Hermione couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips, even though she knew she was trying to hide how much she’d miss them. "Pranks?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You two really think I’ll get involved in all that nonsense when I’m busy trying to pass my N.E.W.T.s and keep my prefects in line?"
“You’ll have to make time for us,” Fred replied, his voice full of assurance as he nudged George, who had clearly been itching to add his own spin to the conversation.
George leaned back, crossing his arms smugly. “Maybe we’ll send you a few things—nothing too big, just a few of our more creative products. A bit of fun to break up all that studying.” His smile widened as he gave her an almost conspiratorial look. “A few surprise packages for Hermione Granger, Head Girl. You won’t be able to say no.”
Fred wiggled his eyebrows, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, what do you say?" he asked, his tone teasing. "You could use a little excitement to balance out all those essays, right? You might even find yourself sneaking down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, just to avoid the madness in the common room." His grin widened as if he was already imagining the trouble they could stir up.
Hermione opened her mouth to give a response, but then paused, a soft sigh escaping before she could stop it. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the last rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room. It was strange, this quiet moment, with so much still ahead of her and so much left behind. The truth was, she wasn’t just dreading the school year—she was dreading the distance. She’d spent so much time with Fred and George this summer, and despite all the laughter and chaos, it had become clear how much she’d come to rely on their presence. The easy banter, the familiar comfort, the way they could always make her laugh even on the most difficult days—it would be hard to go back to the more rigid structure of Hogwarts without them.
Before she could let that thought linger too long, she shook her head, willing herself to focus. She forced a smile, one she hoped looked more convincing than it felt, and set her book aside. "I’ll survive," she said, the words tumbling out a bit more lightly than they felt. Her voice was firm, but there was an underlying wistfulness that even she couldn’t entirely disguise.
Fred’s keen eyes caught the change in her tone, and he leaned in closer, his expression softening. "You sure?" he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with concern. He studied her, trying to gauge what she wasn’t saying. "Because if you need reminding, Hermione," he added with a playful wink, "we’ll make sure you never forget that we’re just a Floo away. And if you start getting too serious on us, we’ll send you a little something to remind you how fun life can be." His words were light, but there was a sincerity beneath them, the kind that made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t know how to explain.
George, who had been leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, pushed himself off the wall and came to sit on the coffee table, close enough that his knee brushed hers. His eyes were soft, and he spoke with an earnestness that was rare for him. "Exactly," he said, his voice warm, like he was trying to offer comfort without it feeling forced. "We’ll always be here. You’re never really alone, Hermione." He paused for a moment, glancing at Fred before looking back at her. "Besides, if you ever start missing us too much, just think of all the trouble we’ll be causing in the background. You won’t have time to feel lonely."
Hermione swallowed, her throat tight as she looked between them—Fred, with his usual teasing grin, and George, with his unexpectedly gentle tone. She had never realized just how much their presence had come to mean to her until now, in this quiet moment of vulnerability. They had always been constants in her life, even when things felt uncertain. Fred and George, their banter, their jokes, their chaotic love for life—they were all part of her Hogwarts experience, part of the very fabric of her world. The thought of being away from them, even for a short while, left a hollow feeling in her chest.
She cleared her throat, trying to mask the lump that had formed. "I know. Thanks, you two," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t say anything more; the words seemed inadequate, and besides, it wasn’t like her to wear her emotions on her sleeve. But she meant it, more than they could know.
Fred and George exchanged a look—one of those silent twin communications that didn’t need words—and for a moment, the room fell into a rare quiet. But then, as if on cue, Fred broke the silence with a grin that could melt any lingering sadness.
"Now, enough of the sentimentality," he said, his voice light and teasing once again, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We’ve got trouble to cause, memories to make, and pranks to perfect before you head back to school. You won’t be able to escape us that easily, Hermione." He stretched his arms dramatically, like he was ready to leap into action. "Trust me, we’re not done with you yet."
George chuckled, leaning forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Yeah, and just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, we’ll send you something guaranteed to shake things up." He raised an eyebrow. "How’s that for a proper distraction from all your prefect duties?"
Hermione couldn’t help it—she let out a laugh, the sound escaping her despite herself. She leaned back against the couch, shaking her head at the two of them. "I guess I’ll just have to brace myself for the chaos you two will unleash on Hogwarts," she said, her voice laced with mock exasperation. "I’m sure my N.E.W.T.s will thank you for the added stress." But even as she said it, there was a genuine smile on her face, the first one in a while that reached her eyes.
Fred grinned widely, clearly pleased to have lightened the mood. "You’re welcome in advance," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And don’t forget," George added with a wink, "we’ll be right there, pulling the strings behind the scenes, making sure you never have a dull moment." His tone was conspiratorial, like he was already planning something mischievous to send her way.