The Order of Secrets

Fred shared a long look with his brother as he lowered the flesh-colored tube from between them, retracting it with a press of his thumb before tucking it into his pocket. The fleshy tube was his (their) latest invention, which they had dubbed “Extendable Ears”. It made eavesdropping much easier- not to mention safer as they were able to listen in from a safe, out-of-spell range from who they were spying on. In this case, the basement kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld place. Where a group of wizards organized in a secret society to fight Voldemort had just descended into a shouting match before calling the meeting and scattering.

“That’s-” George started.

“Where everyone ran off earlier.” Fred finished, his twin nodding with a tight frown.

“Hermione-” George choked out. He was close to tears. Fred

Felt his own throat restrict, and he nodded, which was enough for George. He pulled his brother into his arms and hugged him tight, and they stayed a moment, foreheads pressed together, calming themselves. Fred pulled back first.

“Did they say which room she’s in?”

George frowned, thinking. “The one that looks like the Slytherin common room I think.”

“The snake pit? Ugh, why?”

“Dunno mate, probably the cleanest on the floor” George shrugged. They had poked around each of the second floor bedrooms during their earlier explorations. Their mother never called them back to the kitchen, which they took as blanket permission to do whatever they liked for the afternoon. This house was as fascinating as it was disgusting. Room after room filled with dark looking artifacts, books, and seemingly enough magical critters to fill the forbidden forest. The two had just settled on a room for themselves on the third floor ( with a private study and bathroom!) when they had heard shouting and comotion from the lower floors. Order members were been running and tossing instructions to each other as they left. Their mother spotted them on the stairs and told them to mind their business and make themselves scarce.  Now they knew what the emergency had been.

Fred clapped his hands together, looking determined.

“Well brother-mine. We can’t leave her to sleep in a snake pit.”

“That we can’t, Gred.”

They grinned at each other, and dissaparated in unison.

Reappearing with a crack in Hermione’s room, they were greeted with a shrill shriek and Fred took something to the face that exploded in..feathers. A pillow. His brain supplied, catching up to the situation. Hermione sat on the four-poster bed, armed with another pillow, but she seemed to be considering her next strike.

“Fred? George? What the hell?!” She screamed.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry!” Fred yelped, holding up his hands.

“What are you thinking apparating right into my room?” She yelled again, throwing the pillow she was holding at George this time. He ducked, throwing his arms up as well.

“Fuck, sorry, Hermione, we didn’t think-”

“I COULD HAVE BEEN CHANGING!”

“Lucky break for us if you- OOOF.” Fred’s poorly timed joke was cut off by the pillow, now under Hermione’s wand, slamming into his face again. George started to laugh, but stopped when he saw the look on Hermione’s face. Not the time. He thought.

“Don’t be mad, Hermione, please. We didn’t mean any harm-”

“We just wanted to, ppppft” Fred spit out feathers.

“Check on you and-”

“Make this room decent!”

“Can’t have the-”

“Brightest witch of our age-”

“Sleeping under a moldy Slytheryn canopy!”

They finished their tandem speech in unison, grinning at her. Hermione smiled in spite of herself. The twins could always do that; no matter the situation they could find a way to make her smile. Yes they could take things too far, and they weren't all that kind to Ron (although Ron wasn’t that kind to them, to be honest) but they were funny, and charming. That charm was probably what got them out of half the trouble they caused, it was nearly impossible to stay mad at them.

“It’s alright, I just want to curl up with Crooks and-” Her eyes widened, and she froze. “Oh, oh Gods!” She burst into tears, unable to get any other words out.

The boys froze for a moment, both warring indecision. She had rejected their mother’s attempts to comfort her, would she want comfort? They couldn't just leave her crying. George broke out of his indecision first, approaching her slowly as you would an injured animal.

“Hermione?” He said softly, sitting down slowly on the bed next to her. She turned to him and grabbed his arm.

“George! I forgot Crookshanks! I left him, I left him! How could I do that? I’m the worst!” She threw herself at him, and he wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Crooks? You didn’t leave him, he’s here.” George said softly. They had crossed paths with Crookshanks a few times since the order had returned with Hermione. First witnessing a  pink haired witch had dropping his carrier after tripping on one of those tables in the entry hall. Crookshanks had hissed his displeasure at her before running off to explore. Later they had caught glimpses of the kneasle darting around furniture as they were poking around in the rooms downstairs.

“I saw him hunting something in the library drapes- I’ll get him!” Fred called out, already running out the door and away from the uncomfortable scene.

Hermione pulled back and looked up at George. “He’s really here?” She sniffed.

“Yeah, one of the Order members carried him in before you showed up. We’ve seen him stalking around, lots to hunt in this old place.”

“Oh.” Hermione pulled back a bit and sniffled again. George pulled out his wand and conjured her a handkerchief, which she accepted with a grateful smile.

“Sorry I’m such a mess.” She wiped her face and looked down, embarrassed. George pulled her in again, hugging her and tucking his chin over her head. He felt safer comforting her now he was sure she wouldn’t attack him for trying to touch her, and was reluctant to let her go.

“It’s OK to not be OK.” He whispered, rubbing her back.

“OK.” She whispered into his chest, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. Of all the people to witness her finally breaking down after this terrible day, it had to be the twins. She didn’t think they would make fun of her for it; come to think of it she wasn’t sure the twins had ever targeted her. Of course it’s two handsome boys seeing you fall apart like a mental case with snot dripping down your face. She scolded herself. Not that she cared the twins were handsome. Or charming, or popular. They were Ron’s brothers for Merlin’s sake!

“Ok.” George repeated. Hermione realized he was still holding her, her face pressed tightly against his chest. He smelled like Peppermint candy and...gunpowder? She pulled back slowly, reluctant to leave the embrace but too embarrassed to let it continue. Surely he didn’t really want to be here, holding his little brother’s friend as she cried into his jumper.

The door banged open, hard enough to slam into the wall and send a little poof of plaster raining down onto the scarred hardwood floor.

“FOUND HIM!” Fred shouted dramatically, raising a thoroughly disgruntled Crookshanks above his head. He dropped the angry feline who took the opportunity to dart over to the bed with a hiss. “He was eating a doxie in the library, ghastly mess, but I told him-” Fred spotted his twin and Hermione staring at him from the bed. “OH! Are we hugging?” He launched himself into the bed and the hug, wrapping his arms around Hermione’s back and folding them both in a hug.

“Love a good hug, don’t we George!” Fred crowed happily.

“That we do.” George muttered.

Hermione found herself almost painfully pinned between the boys.

“Oh- boys, I- I can’t breath!” She gasped out.

The twins chuckled and released her, scooting back to a respectable distance while remaining seated on the bed with her. Crookshanks, seeing his opening, launched into her arms, nuzzling his face into her neck and purring loudly.

“Crooks, baby. I’m sorry about today.” She whispered in his ear. Crookshanks lifted his head and licked the tip of her nose, before tucking his head again. She was forgiven.

When she looked at Fred again, her eyes were shining, but she smiled.

“Thanks Fred.” She turned and looked at George. “Thanks George. Sorry for…uh…crying all over you.”

George took her hand impulsively and squeezed it.

“Don’t mention it, Granger. You can cry on me anytime.” George blushed, sure that was the stupidest thing he had ever said.

“Well…I should probably go to sleep.” Hermione murmured, looking down at the threadbare green sheets.

“At least let us make it a little better.” Fred said, eyeing the silver and green bed-curtains.

“We can’t have a noble Gryffindor  like you,  sleeping in a duplicate of the snake’s common room.” George said from behind her.

“Wouldn’t be proper.” Fred stated with a pompous air.

“Not proper at all.” George adopted the same tone, sitting up straighter.

“Well we can’t have that, I suppose.” Hermione murmured, unsure what they were up to, but understanding they wanted to shift the mood. “What do you gallent gentlemen propose to do?” Hermione adopted a posh accent that would rival Pansy Parkinson.

“Gallant, she called us!” Fred cries, hand over his heart.

“Gentlemen!” George parrots, slapping a hand over his heart as well.

“I would have preferred ‘Handsome’ and ‘Clever’, but alas-”

“Nary a word on our outstanding good looks or brilliance!” George let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Sad days indeed, Forge my boy. Alas, we must endeavor to impress the fair maiden with our magical abilities-”

“And be so thoroughly charming and gallant-”

“She will no doubt shower us with praise!”

Hermione laughed at their over-the-top antics, surprising herself. An hour ago the idea of laughing at anything would have been unthinkable.

“If you keep that up, I won’t get any sleep.” She said sternly, but her smile was too wide to be a real rebuke. “Where should we start?”

“Well, I’d start with a formal courtship, of course-”

“Can’t be giving the goods away without a commitment, innocent gentlemen like us-”

“With the room! Focus!” Hermione turned a brilliant shade of pink at their teasing. She knew they weren't serious, they were the twins, for goodness sake. Teasing and flirting came as naturally as breathing and magic.

“Now, Forge, let’s be serious.”

“We can’t be Sirius, he’s downstairs and we haven’t got any polyjuice!”

“For heaven’s sake!” She laughed again, hugging Crookshanks tighter as her shoulders shook. “Stop the tomfoolery, please!”

“Am I Tom?”

“That makes me Foolery!”

“Quite like it, Foolery, my man!” Fred and George high fived as Hermione laughed and shook her head.

In tandem, they pulled their wands from their jumper sleeves and began what they had come to do in the first place. They started at the bed, transfiguring the old green sheets into red satin, the limp green and silver velvet curtains to a lush, thick red. The Serpent candelabras became rampant lions, holding candles in their roaring mouths. Green and silver banners transformed into red and gold, and the tarnished silver snakes of the chandelier morphed into a shimmering phoenix.

Hermione sat on the bed and watched the twins in silence, transfixed. She had known the twins were talented; they must be to invent the things they did. Watching them in action however, casting spells effortlessly in sync with each other was  breathtaking. It was beautiful, and she marveled at the way they moved together without speaking in perfect unison.

They finish with a grand flourish of their wands and a bow. Hermione laughed and released Crookshanks to clap lightly. Fred looked up from his bow and grinned at her, and her stomach gave a flip. Merlin he’s handsome, she thought. The thought came with a wave of guilt, how could she be laughing and thinking about cute boys at a time like this. But he is handsome, and sweeter than she ever knew. Everything they had done since their sudden appearance in her room was so…thoughtful. She was grateful, she decided. Grateful and exhausted. There would be time tomorrow to think about the revelation of Fred and George being more than Ron’s older brothers. George straightens himself and smiles at her as well, but a shy smile, his chin slightly tucked as a lock of hair falls into his face. She blushes again, ducking her head down and scooping Crookshanks up again to hide her face behind.

“Thank you. This is…amazing.” She murmurs.

“Think nothing of it, Milady!” Fred declares.

“You sure your alright here? We’re upstairs if you need us-” George says softly.

“Second door on the left, third floor. They told you we’re staying the summer too?”

“Oh, um…all of you?”

“Yep! The Weasley’s move in tomorrow to “help prepare the base for the Order.”

“That’s lovely. Um…see you tomorrow then.” Hermione looks down as they turn to leave.

“Hey George, Fred?” They look at her from the doorway. “Thank you…for being so nice to me.”

“Of course, Hermione. Goodnight.” George says softly.

“Think nothing of it, Granger. ‘Night!” Fred says loudly, giving her a cheery wave.

Hermione curled up under her soft red blanket, marveling at the last hour. She was still amazed at the magic the twins had performed so casually, how had these two only achieved a ‘handful’ of O.W.L.’s? Complex permanent transfiguration, quite a bit of it nonverbal, and tandem to boot. They really were a marvel. Why had they come to her like this? Fred finding Crookshanks, George holding her while she cried, remodeling her room. There was a soft side to them she had never seen before, and she wondered what the morning would bring with the arrival of the rest of their family. Crookshanks slipped from her arms, and draped himself over the pillow next to her head. Gently, he reached out a paw and touched her eye, Hermione closing it as his paw pads made contact.

“Meeerow.” He stated. It felt like a command.

“Yes, I’ll sleep.” She replied, closing her eyes and letting go of tomorrow’s problems in favor of rest. Once he was satisfied she was asleep, Crookshanks curled around her neck and relaxed. He too needed rest, but he didn’t sleep. Instead he purred to sooth his Girl, and kept watch. He didn’t trust this house, with it’s long unnatural shadows and creature inhabitants. So he kept his body still, even when she shifted and hugged him tightly to her body, and watched the shadows as she slept.

**************************************************************

Fred

Fred flopped face down on his bed, groaning. The action caused a cloud of dust to puff out around his body, and he coughed and sat up quickly. “Rancid” He mumbled , pulling his wand out to scourify the bedding, before flopping himself down once again. “Forge?” He called out from his pillow.  His mind raced with the events of the day, and though he was exhausted he knew sleep would not come easy. A part of him, was elated Hermione was just down the hall from them. He considered this a very disloyal and bastardly part of himself. She had been though hell, for Godrick's sake, and he was horrified what had happened to her. He thought her parents were right bastards, and wouldn't mind seeking retribution in the name of his friend. He decided he could call her his friend, though acquaintance was more fair. He had quite hoped to see her this summer, and perhaps develop that into friendship, into relationship. He knew the complications of that, however and had therefore come up with his slow and steady plan of action. 

“Yes, Gred?” His twin called from his desk, where he was already scribbling in his black notebook.

“Can you believe it?”

“Going to have to be more specific brother, too many “it’s” to count.” George deadpanned.

Fred lifted his face from his pillow incredulously, only to find his twin smirking at him. Of course George knew what he meant; they always knew.

“What do you think?” George held up a sketch. Two wizards, joined in a ‘v’ with the large W outlined on their robes that was flourished with a star.

“Purple and Orange.” Fred said automatically.

“Noted.” George scribbled a note to himself, and reached for his colored pencils.

“Granger is…” Fred found himself oddly at a loss for words. This didn’t happen often, he was the more vocal of the two and quite fond of his own voice. “D’ya think she’s Ok?” He finally said.

“No…but she’s…well I think she will be. Ok I mean. Eventually.”

“We made her smile. Laugh, even. A little.”

“That we did, brother-mine.”

The thought made them both smile, and they quietly got themselves ready for bed, each deep in their own thoughts about a certain curly-haired Gryffindor.