Chapter 24
Hermione
Hermione shifted slightly away as George whispered in her ear, so he leaned back, adopting a more casual perch on the arm of her chair. She felt awkward and shy, unsure of herself. Though she knew them, and didn’t think that this was the type of prank they would play, a part of her mind whispered there was no way she was reading the situation correctly. Fred pulled up the ottoman and set in front of the pair, leaning forward on his knees. He still had the book dangling open from one hand, and he swung it back up dramatically.
“So Granger, got any questions? This book doesn’t seem heavy on the facts.” He deadpanned, skimming the pages.
“It’s an autobiography, the sisters were Sirius's ancestors. They lived quite fascinating lives, actually.” She was still blushing, but her voice was a more normal pitch than when they had surprised her. She cleared her throat. “So, you two have a Soul Bond?” She asked hesitantly.
“Yes.” They answered together bluntly.
Hermione was torn, her desire to learn all she could about a new facet of the magical world at war with her desire to know how their shared magical core effects their potential relationship. They looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to lead the conversation, as she sat frozen.
“So you..feel each other’s pain?” She managed lamely.
“Pain, and other things.” Fred said with a smirk.
“Behave.” George said shortly. “We have a constant sense of each other. Our emotions, our pain, our very magic is tied to the other.”
“But we’re individuals too.” Fred affirmed.
Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course you are, Fred. It makes sense with how in sync you two are though.”
“Hey, I’m not Fred he is!”
“Honestly, I thought you could tell us apart.” George teased, poking her in the ribs. She could tell they were trying to relax her with their banter, but she felt the serious undercurrent of their conversation. Something about this interaction had an intensity to it that was unlike the usual playfulness of the twins, and it had Hermione on edge.
Hermione snorted. “George, honestly. As if I can’t tell you two apart.” She rolled her eyes, fighting to appear casual and unaffected.
Fred leaned forward, “How though?”
“No one can tell us apart.” George added.
“Not even our mother.”
“Especially our mother.” George rolled his eyes.
“So how can you-”
“Always-”
“Tell?”
Hermione flushed under their intense stares. “Well, it’s not that hard, really. You’re…different people.” She said lamely. The truth was she watched them. Too much, too often and for far longer than she would admit to herself, her eyes would be drawn to them. Secretly smiling behind a book at their antics that she would publicly disapprove of. At Hogwarts, she would discreetly watch them from afar as they laughed and joked with their friends, admiring their easy charm and infectious smiles. She would imagine boldly joining the group one night in the common room, adding to the conversation, and catching a twin’s eye.
“Did you hear that Gred? We’re different people.” George enthused.
“Shocking information, Forge.” Fred deadpanned.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s difficult to quantify one thing that sets you apart. You..smell different. George’s hair always falls in his face. Fred, you drum your fingers when your bored, and George rocks his chair back. George is more reserved, a little more cautious and Fred’s more impulsive. You walk differently…and George has a freckle by his eye that you don’t, Fred. Fred casts ambidextrously, and-”
“Wait.” Fred stopped her, holding up his hand. “You see all that? You watch how I cast?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, worried she’d given away too much.
“Yes, um..I noticed last year when you are doing something with your right hand you’d cast with your left, and it led to a bit of a research spiral on wand lore, did you know it’s incredibly rare for a wizard to cast with their non-dominant hand? It takes an incredibly focused talent to master and-”
Without warning, Fred leaned in and planted a sudden, awkward kiss on Hermione's lips. He was kneeling before her chair, hands planted on either side around her head. George had slipped to the side when his brother surged forward, but remained in his awkward perch. Fred pulled back, shifting his hands to cup Hermione’s face as she sat reeling, her thoughts a jumbled mess and her stomach a riot of butterflies.
““I’m sorry…I…no one has ever seen me like you, Hermione.” He whispered. She cut him off this time, pressing her lips to his to stop his apology. This kiss was softer, sweeter. Warmth flooded her body as he cupped her face like she was a treasure, and when he licked at the seam of her lips she opened without hesitation, welcoming the dance of his tongue with her own. It was everything, her entire world narrowed down to Fred and his spicy gunpowder smell, his silky hair in her fingers as her hands found their way to the back of his head, pulling him closer. He pulled back first, leaving her a parting peck on the nose and a grin before glancing meaningfully at George. Oh Gods, George! George had been sitting there the entire time! Her face heated and she felt shame wash over her. She looked over at him, ready for his anger, sadness, disappointment, and was utterly shocked by the placid look in his blue eyes.
He reached out and smoothed a thumb over her forehead.
“Don’t worry so much. We’re twins. Sharing is in our nature.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb as he looked into her eyes. He wasn’t upset she realized; he was happy.
“This wasn’t then plan.” He said softly, and she realized he wasn’t speaking to her when his eyes slid to his twin and they shared a barley perceptible moment of communication.
He leaned in and she felt herself drawing her face up to his without conscious thought. Her froze with his lips a breath away from hers.
“May I kiss you?” He whispered.
“Please.” She whispered back.
George dipped down and captured her lips, his kiss fierce and demanding as he explored her mouth. She realized she still had her right hand in Fred’s hair as she slid her left along George’s chest. She thrilled at the taught muscle underneath, silently thanking the wizard world for inventing Quidditch. Fred’s kiss had been a slow burn, one she knew could turn into a blaze. George’s was intense as fiendfire, and she felt herself being swept away in it, losing herself to the sensation of his hot mouth on hers, his hand in her hair gently tugging her curls. Then he pulled back, biting her lower lip gently and pecking her lips before shifting and joining his twin on the ottoman. The abruptness left her frozen, blinking at their sudden rearrangement. Then, Fred took her left hand, George her right, reclaiming her attention. George, ever the comedian, cleared his throat dramatically.
"Hermione Granger," he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, "we, the Weasley twins, wish to formally request the honor of courting you. Simultaneously, of course. It’s far more efficient that way." Fred, usually the more boisterous of the two, simply nodded in agreement, a rare moment of shared seriousness between them.
Though the idea of dating two people simultaneously felt unconventional, their eyes shone with genuine affection . Hermione knew this wasn’t some sort of joke or prank; this was real, the connection the three of them had. To hell with convention. She thought fiercely. She heard the harsh ring of her mother’s voice answering her, “How dare you even consider this! I knew it! You’ll never graduate, a little skank like you will end up pregnant in a trailer somewhere!”Her mouth pulled into a frown at the unpleasant thought, and she bit her lip, before solidifying her resolve and straitened her spine. You can’t tell me what to do anymore. She answered internally, willing the voice away. Her parents were gone, and good riddance. This was what she wanted, rather than be torn between the two of them, the perfect solution was being offered to her on a silver platter. Questions began to plague her at lightning speed. Would they have separate dates? Would they get jealous? How would everyone react? Would they be public? Secret? What about sex? Would they all…
She realized she’d been frozen for too long when George brushed her forehead again with his thumb. His touch was feather-soft, but enough for her to snap out of her head.
“Hey. Don’t worry so much.” He said, his voice as .
“Hermione, we like you.” Fred declared firmly.
“Like we really like you.” George added with a grin.
“We’d like to court you.”
“Officially.”
“But you need to know,”
“We’re a package set.”
“Two for the price of one, you could say.”
“Quite a bargain, actually.”
“We know you tend to be quite fond of rules, but we won’t hold it against you.”
“We’ll even refrain from breaking rules in front of you.”
“Mostly.”
“Sometimes.”
“Unless we’re breaking them with you…” Fred leered at her and winked and that was it. She couldn’t help but return his grin, feeling the sincerity radiating off both him and George, even as they joked during their impassioned tandem speech.
“We know occasionally, your view on the rules can be, shall we say more flexible.” George winked.
“Well, certain situations call for a little flexibility.” She said primly, realizing a second too late the double entendre she had uttered. They began to laugh, and she couldn’t help but join in, even as her cheeks heated.
Through giggles she asked, “Are you two asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Yes!” They said in unison emphatically.
She had questions- probably hundreds of questions, but they could wait.
“Well then…yes!” She beamed at them.
The twins exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance, a silent communication that spoke volumes about their shared understanding. George jumped to his feet and pulled her from her chair and into his arms, hugging her tightly. Fred was behind her a second later, wrapping his arms around her middle and pressing up against her back. She felt her worries melt in their tight embrace, they had time to figure out the details, this moment was for enjoying each other.