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“You know you could just sneak into his room if you wanted to, right?”
Ginny was technically right. Hermione was a 25 year old woman visiting her friends in England for the week, she had a job and a flat back in France and was considered an adult by every conceivable standard. Except that she was staying at The Burrow and Molly always made her feel like she was a teenager again, especially with all of the Weasley Clan back for the holidays.
“Can I really?”
“Hermione, you're a grown woman. You could be staying at a hotel if you wanted to but you're staying here for a reason. Don't waste it.”
Hermione sighed. It was true, she was only staying at the Weasley's to spend more time with one particular redhead and it wasn't Ginny.
“Oh go on, if Mum comes I'll tell her you're in the loo or something.”
“You're the best, Gin.”
She wrapped herself in a warm woolly cardigan, put on her plushy socks and slid out of Ginny's room as silently as she could.
She knocked on the familiar door at the end of the hall and waited for someone to let her in, wary of being discovered by anyone else. George appeared at the door in a matter of seconds and tugged into the room in one smooth motion.
“Hey, honeybun! I've missed you!” He enveloped her in a big hug which she happily returned.
“I've missed you too George, but I was actually looking for your brother.”
George huffed and let her go. “How do you always know it's me?”
“It's because I'm the handsome one, Georgie.” Fred stepped out from behind the door and hugged her tightly. She relaxed in his arms and he kissed the top of her head. “Hey, honeybun.”
“Ugh please don't call me that,” she answered, her voice muffled by Fred's jumper.
“Hey, I was just trying it out.”
“Really, Hermione. How do you always know it's me?” George pouted from his bed where he had sat down.
“I think the real question is how did you get Fred to hide behind the door?”
“It wasn't hard considering he only wanted to see me lose.” George got up to rummage in his drawers and threw a few gold coins onto his twin's bed. Fred smiled smugly and kissed her cheek as if thanking her for his winnings.
“You have to stop betting against me if you want to buy that new broomstick you've been talking about so much,” she teased.
George stuck his tongue out at her. “You can't stay in our room and be all lovey dovey with my brother if you're mean to me.”
“Actually, she can.”
Hermione grinned brightly at George and sat pointedly on Fred's bed. “That's two against one, George my dear.”
“Ugh Fred's rubbing off on you.”
George walked back to his corner of the room and pretended to busy himself with a book, going out of his way to look offended. He'd be chatting with them within half an hour, he loved listening to Hermione's stories about the French Ministry.
Fred climbed onto his bed and lay his head in her lap, humming contentedly when she started to run her fingers through his hair.
“So, what happened with Marie? Did she forgive Alexandre?”
She tried to hide her smile as she sensed George sit up straighter, waiting for an answer. “Alexandre showed up again with a ring that had belonged to his great great grandmother. Marie was not impressed.”
“Why?”
“His great great grandmother's ghost didn't want Marie to have the ring and had no qualms in telling her so.”
“Shit. Alexandre can not catch a break.”
“Oh come on!” George jumped out of his bed and sat on the edge of Fred's bed instead. “Marie is the real victim here! You can't just pull an Alexandre and expect everyone to forgive you!”
“Honeybun, I think George has a thing for Marie.”
Hermione had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud and alerting the rest of the Burrow as to her whereabouts. George hadn't replied, his face going nearly as red as his hair and now Fred was laughing along with her.
“Well… she's pretty and funny,” he mumbled.
Hermione and Fred doubled over laughing even harder, wheezing for air.
“We figured as much, Fred.” She wiped the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes and managed to breathe properly again. “I'll put in a good word for you and we can all go out the next time you visit, okay?”
George's smile was incandescent. “Alright, yeah. I'd like that.”
They spent the rest of the night catching up on the things they'd forgotten to tell each other in their letters, Hermione updating them on her friends back home and the twins filling her in about the goings on in England.
Hermione fell asleep with her head on Fred's chest and George sprawled at the end of the bed. This wasn't a rare occurrence, she had always known that dating Fred was a package deal and she hadn't regretted it once. They'd wake up in the morning, muscles sore from sleeping cramped in a single bed, Fred would kiss her forehead and George would complain that she snored.
She wouldn't change it for the world.