Chapter 34
George
The freshly redecorated study was lovely, he had to admit. The air smelled faintly of lemon and vinegar, proof of the recent cleaning, and the walls covered in a pale cream wallpaper, offsetting the dark wainscotting and carved details of the book shelves. Currently those shelves sat mostly empty, the mantle and desk bare as well, evidence of his mother’s purge of all reminders of the Nobel House of Black. He took in all the details to avoid the gaze of the man behind the desk.
It was painfully unfamiliar to George to feel shy or embarrassed. However, in the face of Sirius Black, father to his girlfriend and man that had promised him a painful death if he stepped a toe out of line…he couldn’t help himself. He was more scared than when he had been asked as a firstie to perform the transfiguration McGonigal had explained while he had been busy dipping a girl’s braid into his inkwell. He remembered McGonigal’s fierce scowl as he attempted it, how everyone had laughed when he failed. Normally he encouraged others to laugh at him, his antics, his jokes. But that experience was different. The laughter far from the shared joy he actively sought, instead cruel and mocking. He shook off the memory, refocusing on his current objective. Operation, permission. Hermione had been unwilling to risk sneaking out again after the roof incident. She didn’t want to upset Sirius, and they understood and had ventured out without her, but with school starting soon, this one trip was too important to miss.
“What did you want to ask me…George?” Sirius asked finally.
“Right. Well, we would like permission to take Hermione out for the afternoon.” George said in a nervous rush.
“We’ll be completely safe, it’s just to Diagon Ally.” Fred added quickly.
Sirius lit a cigarette and tapped his desk. “It’s still a risk.” He said slowly.
“We know, but safety in numbers, right?” George said hopefully.
“Please, school is about to start and it’s our last chance to show her…”
“At least until winter hols, but…”
“We’ll be at 99 Diagon Ally, two hours tops.”
“Tell me what’s so special about 99 Diagon Ally, and I’ll consider it.” Sirius said with an amused smirk that George considered to be a good sign. The twins glanced at each other, this was, officially their biggest secret. But this was Sirius, and they knew they could trust him with it.
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Fred
They left the study feeling especially victorious and amused. They rarely had the occasion of inclination to ask any adult for permission to do…anything really. Ah the things we do for love, He thought. He wasn’t concerned in the slightest to acknowledge her loved her. Not that he felt it was the time to tell her that. Or that when they said courtship they meant courtship- a road that led directly to marriage. There was time for all of that, no reason to bombard her. He was slightly concerned her would just blurt it out at some point; he knew himself, after all and his mouth quite often moved faster than rational thought.
Fred’s eye caught the rounded glass display case in the corner, now polished and clean but empty. The locket! We forgot to give it to her! He thought suddenly. How had they forgotten it? He supposed so much had happened in the last few weeks the trinket had seemed unimportant…or perhaps there was something to it being forgotten as soon as it was boxed up. He knew from Bill’s treasure hunting tales there were all sorts of enchantments that existed for concealing magical items, especially dangerous or malignant ones. Perhaps we should have Bill look at it before we give it to her. He discarded the ideate. immediately. It would no doubt be the safest option, but it would also almost surely get it confiscated by his responsible older brother before they even had the chance to show it to Hermione. Instead, he resolved to show her that day, as soon as they got back.
He pulled a small notepad from his pocket and wrote himself a note for later as they walked, just in case.
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George
Unsurprisingly, they found her in the library, sitting at one of the large worktables. She had a large leatherbound book propped up in front of her and was taking notes in her small, neat script in a muggle notebook with a quill. George thought it was adorable how easily she blended the muggle and wizard world. He had to admit, muggle notebooks were quite superior to long rolls of parchment cluttering desks and shelves.
Not one for subtly, Fred threw himself into the seat beside her.
“Whatcha doing?” He asked loudly, slinging an arm around the back of her chair and peeking over her shoulder.
“Studying.” She replied primly. “At least I was.” She grumbled, shutting her notebook. Her pink cheeks and twinkling eyes gave her away, however, she was far from displeased.
“Studying what?” Fred asked, taking her book from the table.
“Advanced charms- mind the page please!” She said, reaching for her book. Fred grinned at her, conjuring a bookmark and setting the book down gently.
“Is it terribly important, studying now?” George asked playfully, walking up to the pair.
“Vital to the fate of the Wizard World?” Fred added.
“Life-or-death?”
“Un-put-down-able?”
“That’s not a word.” George said with a frown to Fred.
“Close enough.” They paused their banter, staring at her expectantly with matching grins.
“Not vital, no.” She returned their grin. “Just an idea I had…anyway, I feel like you two are up to something.” She crossed her arms and cocked a brow at them.
Fred gasped and clasped his hands to his chest in mock horror.
“Up to something? Us?” He cried.
“How could you think two innocent gentlemen such as us could have anterior motives?!” George joined in.
“Hmm, let me think. Perhaps because…you always have anterior motives?” She said with a laugh.
“Humph.” Fred grunted.
“Technically, you’re not wrong, however,”
“If you aren’t too busy…”
“Changing the world, rewriting laws..”
“Stuffing that brilliant brain with more information than the rest of us mere mortals will never fathom…”
“We thought-”
“You might fancy-”
“An adventure!” They finished together.
“What sort of adventure? She said skeptically, looking back and forth between them. George supposed she had a right to be suspicious. Their surprises could range from baking cookies to felonies, but they had been well behaved most of the summer. In front of her, at least. They didn’t lie, that was a hard line. If they omitted certain things, like failing to mention their morning included a trip to knockturn Ally to sell magical objects of a questionable variety…more of a gray area.
“Just a bit of a trip.” Fred hedged.
“See the sights of London.” George added.
Her face fell. “You know I can’t.” She said softly. “Sirius-”
“Has already given us permission.”
“We asked after breakfast.”
“We have three hours on the town. What do you say?” George held out his hand and gave her his best smile.
“Well in that case, where are we going?” She bit her lip and grinned, and unable to help himself, George ran his thumb over her chin, pulling her lip from her teeth gently. He leaned in and kissed her gently, then nipped her lower lip himself.
“We told you. An adventure.” He whispered. “Trust us?” He looked into her newly gray eyes, changed but still so familiar, sure in that moment he felt the same way they did.
“Always.” She whispered back.
Fred
True to their nature, they had not bothered to ask permission from their own parents, so sneaking out was still necessary. They followed their preferred path out the hidden staircase and back garden, pulling along a breathless Hermione. They apparated together, George folding his hands over Hermione’s eyes to add to the suspense. Fred could hardly stop from bouncing; he was so excited. A bit nervous too, if he were honest. What if she didn’t like it? Or didn’t share the vison? What if she were angry, they had kept this from her until now; perhaps a grand reveal wasn’t the best way to go about everything. Being unsure didn’t sit quite right with him, it wasn’t something he normally felt. He was confident, even perhaps when he shouldn’t be, and didn’t take the time to second guess his choices. Most likely, he reasoned, because he honestly didn’t care what people thought about him. Either they liked him as is, or they didn’t. He had friends, altogether too much family, and he had George. No matter what, he always had George, who never judged him even when Fred was utterly in the wrong. Hermione though…he felt if he mis-stepped enough he could lose her. He knew there would be times when she would not approve (like selling cursed things to a notorious dark wizard shop), pranks that perhaps toed the line of too far, or perhaps, keeping the secret that the shop was much farther along than she knew. That thought was too awful to dwell on, making his belly churn and his face feel hot, so he pushed it down. It was too late to go any path but forward, so it would have to be alright.
They reappeared on the sidewalk before a dingy three-level brownstone. Faded brown paper was tacked over the windows of the ground-level shop, the green paint of the trim flaked and faded. A crooked shop sign hung above the scarred old door, reading “Mystical Watch works” in peeling golden letters.
“Welcome,” George said dramatically, lifting his hands and revealing the dingy storefront.
“To the future home,-” Fred picked up
“Of Weasley’s Wizard Weezes!” They shouted together, presenting her the door with a flourish.
“Here?” She looked the building up and down, then around the street. “Already? How?”
“All in good time love.” Fred said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Let us give you the tour.”
They led her inside, where the twins presented the gloomy space with dramatic flare.
George gestured wildly at the cavernous space. "Picture it, Hermione! Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, bright, bold, Boisterous!" Fred, equally enthusiastic, bounced on the balls of his feet, a mischievous glint in his eye. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams slanting through the gaps in the paper covering the grimy windows, illuminating the vast, empty shell of their new shop. Boxes were stacked in corners and the shelves living the walls were covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.
Their hearts pounded with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Would Hermione approve? Would she see the potential, or just the mess? They walked her through the space, explaining the plan for sections devoted to fireworks, weak love potions, trick sweets, and more. Every product already created or thought of would have a place, with its own intricately designed packaging and advertisement. The sheer size of their own plan made them nervous, but the thrill of it all far outweighed their fears.
Hermione followed along with wide eyes, grinning and throwing out her own ideas to help bring their vison to life. "This is… incredible!" she exclaimed, spinning around, taking in the scale of the space. She talked of interactive displays, themed sections, and even a secret passage leading to a hidden back room stocked with exclusive, high-end prank items. "You could use enchanted signage," she proposed, "with moving parts; like a beckoning hand, charmed descriptions that answer common questions!" The nervousness that had clung to Fred and George evaporated, replaced by a shared energy. They hadn't dared hope for such immediate and fervent support.
They showed her the back area where their workroom would be, and the staircase that led to the overhead apartment.
“There’s three levels,” Fred began.
“One for the shop, and the workroom.” George said, following behind them on the stairs.
“The second, we’ll live in; it’s a nice enough apartment.”
“The third is storage, for now,”
“But that means,-”
“You can expand after the shop really takes off!” Hermione interrupted. They paused and beamed at her, Fred feeling like his heart could burst in his chest. George nudged him lightly with his shoulder. “Calm down.” He hissed. Fred sighed and took a deep breath as they continued on to the apartment. He did need to calm down. He had been seconds away from professing his undying love to Hermione on the dirty back staircase, hardly the place for romance.
The aroma of sizzling ginger and garlic hung heavy in the air, a fragrant counterpoint to the still-slightly-musty scent of neglect in the baren old apartment. Fred had presented the surprise lunch, Chinese takeaway waiting on a scarred old kitchen table under a warming charm. Hermione Granger, perched on a wobbly stool amidst boxes overflowing with enchanted trinkets, books and clothes, surveyed their newly acquired space with a critical yet amused eye.
"Think you can manage chopsticks, Love?" he asked, a grin splitting his face. He already knew the answer; he was fairly convinced she could do just about anything.
“Of course.” She said primly, accepting them. “So, you still haven’t answered. When exactly did you find the time to do all this? We are together every day!”
“Well, as you know, we can work fast.” Fred said with a wink, tucking into his noodles.
“We signed the lease a week ago, and moved this stuff little by little the last few days. Obviously, there is a ton of work.”
“But with school starting we couldn’t risk leaving our inventory within Mum’s reach.” George said with a hint of bitterness.
“Plus, now we can work on breaks and be ready to open after graduation.”
“So…why didn’t you tell me?” She asked softly.
“Nothing nefarious, love.” George rushed to say.
“We wanted to surprise you,”
“Thought it would be fun…”
“Are you mad?”
They looked at her, eyes filled with trepidation and hope.
“No, just…not everything needs to be a surprise you know?” She smiled then, and the tension in the room dissolved. “I’m not your mum. I’m not going to discourage your dreams. Maybe occasionally advise caution- but I’m not going to try and stop you. You don’t have to do things first and ask forgiveness later, not with me.”
Fred realized that’s exactly what they had done; fearing rejection they had carried on as always, secretly. Always with that lingering fear that she would reject the plan, dislike the space, secretly hope they abandoned the plans for their shop and dedicated their lives to whatever boring office job they could land and live in misery forever. But that wasn’t Hermione, that fear came from their parents. From never being enough, or the right kind of smart, of never having their achievements recognized.
As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, a comfortable blend of shop talk, future plans, and shared jokes. They moved from the table to the floor, sprawling in front of the unlit fireplace, sketching and making notes as they talked. Hermione looked up at Fred, winking and leaning forward conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
"You know," she said, "there's this Muggle tradition... Couples 'christen' new houses. Apparently, it involves... intimate activities... in every room." Fred choked, mid sip of hot tea, his cheeks turning bright red. George, however, simply raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. The idea, unexpected but desperately alluring, hung in the air between them. Hermione, emboldened by the twins’ shared look of playful surprise, took a deep breath.
"So," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a confidence, "considering we're going back to school tomorrow, perhaps we could start the christening process... tonight?" George, recovering from his shock quickly, replied, "Sounds like a perfectly reasonable suggestion to me, what about you, brother?"
Fred shook his head sadly, looking at his watch.
“I hate to be the voice of reason…but we don’t have the time.” He said in a choked voice. Never in his life did he imagine he’d be turning down the girl of his dreams as she offered herself to them.
Hermione’s cheeks turned pink and she looked” down quickly. “It was a stupid idea.” She said softly.
Fred grasped her face in both hands and turned it up to his. It killed him to see unshed tears glistening in her gray eyes. He gently kissed her, and rested his forehead against hers.
“No, love, it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. If your father wouldn’t skin us alive for bringing you home late…”
George stroked her hair and slid his arms around her waist from behind.
“I think it sounds like the best muggle tradition. Winter hols, we’ll have this place clean,”
“Maybe get a bed or two,”
“We don’t want to rush-,”
“You deserve better than that.”
“How much time do we have left?” George asked running his hands up and down her sides as she relaxed in their arms, nuzzling Fred’s neck as she realized she wasn’t being rejected, they were simply (quite uncharacteristically) being responsible.
“About a half an hour.” Fred mumbled into Hermione’s hair.
George smirked. “That’s enough.”
Hermione
George lifted her from behind, deftly spinning her around and crushing her body to his. He kissed her, stealing her breath with the intensity. His hands slid into her curls, gripping her hair and tugging her head back, exposing her throat to him as he worked his way from her lips to the base of her throat and back again. She felt Fred’s hands slide around her hips and up over her belly, coming to rest on her breasts, tracing featherlight touches across her hard nipples. She gasped and her thighs trembled as she felt heat bloom in her core, their touches and kisses too much and not enough at the same time.
George released her hair, sliding his hands past Fred’s down to her thighs, slowly pushing the hem of her sundress up as she leaned back against Fred’s chest. Fred turned her face up and kissed her fiercely, his tongue dancing with hers and driving her wild.
“Hermione.” George said huskily, claiming her attention. She met his eyes, dark and filled with lust. How could she have thought they didn’t want her? His hands rested on her thighs, just under her skirt. She squirmed, desperate to have them higher, to push further than they had gone.
“Words, love.” Fred whispered in her ear, licking it and making her shiver.
“Can I…” George asked, pushing his hands up a fraction of an inch.
“Anything.” Hermione whispered shyly.
George leaned forward and kissed her roughly, gripping her hips under her skirt.
“Fred is going to hold you. I’m going to take off these panties, and you…” He kissed her again, looping his fingers into the waistband of her lacey underwear, freezing there as he looked into her eyes. “You are going to lay back, and cum all over my face.” She blushed, but didn’t look away from his eyes.
“Ok.” She whispered, shifting slightly to lean back against Fred, giving over control to the twins. Fred reclaimed her mouth, as George, a man of his word, slid her panties down her thighs and pushed up her skirt, bunching it around her waist. He tugged her hips gently, repositioning her, and pushed her thighs apart, tracing his hands lightly up and down the inside of her thighs, close but not touching where she wanted it the most. Fred pulled up and turned her head gently, whispering, “Watch.” Hermione, flushed and breathless, leaned back into Fred's embrace, her eyes locked on George's. His brown eyes filled with a raw, uninhibited passion that took her breath away. The world fell away, narrowed down to the three of them, to this moment. She knew the twins well enough to understand the potent blend of playful dominance and tender reverence in their approach. This wasn't just about physical pleasure; it was a a testament to the deep bond they shared, and she gave herself to the moment fully, trusting them completely.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered. She gasped as he lowered his head and his tongue darted out, flicking over her gently. He dipped lower, exploring her with his mouth, alternating pressure with his tongue, listening to her gasps and sighs. A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and Fred's hands shifted, his hands playfully, yet purposefully, unfastening the delicate buttons of her bodice, the fabric pooling at her waist, revealing the smooth skin of her shoulders and the gentle swell of her breasts. His fingers danced across her skin, teasing her nipples, eliciting soft gasps and shivers that rippled through her body. The contrast between Fred's playful approach and George's tender devotion created a heady mix, a perfect storm of sensation that sent shivers down Hermione’s spine and left her unabashedly panting. Fred's presence intensified the experience; the comforting weight of his arms wrapped around Hermione, a sweet counterpoint to George's intimate exploration. The two brothers worked in tandem, their movements perfectly synchronized, their individual affections intertwining into a shared act of love.
Hermione's fingers tangled in George's hair, her breath hitching as the intensity built. A soft moan escaped Hermione’s lips, and her hips bucked involuntarily into George’s skilled mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, her body arching slightly as a wave of pleasure washed over her. The powerful release left her breathless and trembling. Fred kissed the top of her head, his own satisfaction evident in the quiet contentment that radiated from him, as George whispered reverent words of praise, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close.
The three spent a few minutes simply holding each other, revealing in the new intimacy they shared. Tears slipped down Hermione’s cheeks as she basked in their affection. She had never felt so treasured, so…loved. It hit her like the whomping willow. She loved them. Wholly, fully loved them, and although no words were exchanged, she knew they loved her too.