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“Honestly, Ron, you’ll wear out the remote!” Hermione chided over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen, barely able to see over the oversized cardboard box clutched between her arms.
“I’m just trying to get to Channel 62,” He responded from the sitting area, not taking his eyes off of the changing screen as he waved the remote about, pressing the buttons madly.
“You can simply enter the number, you know!” She called back with a chuckle, handing off the overly large box to Fred with a sigh.
“Blimey, Hermione. Tell me this is the last box.” Fred pleaded, comically pretending to buckle under the weight of the contents and earning a chuckle from Ginny.
The task of moving Hermione’s things into her brand new home had been no small undertaking. Although the brunette witch had never had a space completely to her own before, she’d somehow managed to collect a full home’s worth of household supplies, and it was lucky that she had half the Weasley clan as a workforce for move-in day. With their help, the house was feeling more like a home with every passing minute.
After a full day of unpacking, the living room and dining room were fully furnished and ready for the housewarming party. Comfortable couches were arranged pleasingly in the middle of the large open area of the first floor, accented with small end tables that displayed several cheerful lamps. Bookshelves lined the sitting area, each stuffed to the brim with the contents of Hermione’s personal library.
Ginny stretched back in her seat at the head of the dining table, looking around with satisfaction at the newly decorated home.
“I certainly should hope that’s about it! We’ve put in a hard day’s work,” The redhead commented breezily, admiring the pristine space.
“We? You’ve been sitting cozy while the rest of us have been toiling like lowly peasants all day long!” George retorted from his station of putting away dry goods in the pantry.
“What can I say? I’m better suited to a supervisory role than manual labor.” His sister answered with a smug grin, stretching as though she’d been hard at work.
“Alright, everyone, I think we’re almost there!” Hermione interrupted before George could further argue.
Cheers came from the entire house. The brunette smiled to herself, tucking a stray curl back into her messy bun and looking around at her new home.
Finally, a space all her own!
Rooming with Ginny in their shared flat for the last few years had been lovely, but as the youngest Weasley and Harry continued to become more serious, she’d felt that she was rather getting in the way, although her friends would never admit it. She had supposed that the idea of living with Harry, or possibly even getting engaged, had been dancing in Ginny’s mind for some time. When this house had recently popped up on the market - both in her price range and preferred location- she’d felt it was the perfect opportunity to make a graceful exit.
She peered around the room in thought.
“I just need to- Harry, have you seen the shot glasses? They weren’t in the kitchen supply boxes, and I want to have them out tonight.” She asked, peering up the stairs where Harry was hard at work hanging family photos on the wall.
“I think they’re in one of those last few boxes, I saw them a bit ago,” He answered, gesturing toward a few dusty boxes by the stairs that hadn’t been sorted yet.
“Oh, you’re right- they’re probably in that miscellaneous box. Thanks!” She answered, feeling very relieved that almost everything was ready for the party tonight. She glanced over at the refrigerator, taking note of the shopping list. With a few hours to spare, she’d have just enough time to get ready and then pop off to the store.
“Shots, you say?” Remarked a smug voice right in her ear. She jumped and nearly trod on Fred’s toes. He stood closely to her, one side of his mouth pulled up in an amused smirk. She fixed him with a mock frown, although the effect was somewhat dampened by the fact that she had to crane her neck to peer up at him.
“Fred! Could you please -” She began.
“Did someone mention alcohol?” Chimed George, who had at last unearthed himself from the kitchen pantry. He sauntered over, waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin.
“Good heavens, Gred! Could it be that our prim and proper bookworm is a closet party princess?” His twin gasped dramatically.
“Perish the thought, Forge!” George declared, leaning on Fred for support. The two men chuckled to themselves, amusement dancing on their identically handsome faces.
“Perhaps we’ve lead her astray with our life of shenanigans,” Fred mused melodramatically.
“Where did we go wrong?” George gasped, holding a hand to his heart.
“I feel like celebrating tonight! Is that a crime?” Hermione asked with a playful poke at George’s chest.
“If it was, we certainly wouldn’t report you.” Fred winked.
“That’s because you’ll be too busy getting into your own mischief.” She retorted, smiling at the twin grins aimed at her.
It had surprised her how well she’d gotten on with Fred and George after they had all become proper adults. The two men would often pop over to join Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in their squashed flat for game nights fueled by Firewhiskey, and she found herself becoming very accustomed to seeing them regularly. Fred would always fill the room with his booming voice, cracking jokes and pulling pranks. While George was a bit quieter, he made up for it with perfect comedic timing, waiting until the perfect moment to drop in a witty quip that sent everyone into peals of laughter.
It seemed that her growing fondness of the twins reflected how much she had let go of her vice-like grip on the rules after the war, and how much maturity the twins gained after Fred’s near-death experience. Shaking off a shiver at that memory, she looked at them thoughtfully as they walked over to help Harry.
She had truly become accustomed to the extra attention the twins seemed to give her in recent years. Every time Ginny let her know that she’d invited them over, it put a bit of a spring in her step- it made her feel a bit special, if she was honest with herself.
Now, looking at the two tall men walking around in her home, she wondered if those times were coming to an end- while it made perfect sense for Ginny to invite her brothers over to her own flat, would it work as well if Hermione herself tried to do so? She didn’t have as good of a reason to bring them all together as their sister did. Her heart sank a bit at the thought of seeing them less.
She frowned to herself, and tucked another loose curl behind her ear before clearing the thoughts from her head.
“Alright, we have a few hours until the party starts, so you should all go get refreshed and take a bit of a break!” She announced to the room at large, turning her attention to the last kitchen items to be put away.
“Sounds good, Mione! You’ll get some of those little croissant sandwiches, right?” Ron asked hopefully from his seat on the couch.
“Yes, I’ve noted to buy double what I thought I’d need, just for you!” She answered back with a laugh.
Pleased, he got up and wandered over to the fireplace, waving cheerfully as he left.
“See you lot soon! I’ll bring some extra Firewhiskey just in case.” He offered before popping into the floo. Fred and George cheered.
“Don’t worry, Hermione, we’ll keep an eye on my brothers tonight so that your nice, new house stays nice and new,” Ginny smirked, pulling Harry in tow to follow Ron out.
“Oi! I resemble that.” Fred muttered as she laughed and disappeared in a flash of green flame.
Hermione wriggled up awkwardly onto the countertop to place the last jar on the top shelf.
“Well, we’re off then, Hermione! See you soon yeah?” George asked, heading to exit with his twin.
“Yes, definitely- augh!”
Hermione shrieked as she lost footing from her precarious perch on the countertop. As the jar of flour fell, its lid hit the edge of the cabinet and popped off, spilling its contents all over her. She landed in an ungraceful heap on the kitchen floor, sputtering madly.
She coughed through the cloud of white, wiping at her eyes to see two concerned faces looking down at her.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, are you alright?” Asked Fred, pulling her to her feet.
“Ugh, yes, I’m fine, it’s just my pride- oh no! My hair!” She gasped, reaching up to pat her bun and sending more flour into the air.
“I’d have thought that your particularly wild curls were rather injury-proof.” George remarked.
“Very funny,” Hermione said dryly, “No, it’s just I had planned the timing perfectly so that I could get ready and then go to the store, but now I have to shower! It takes forever to wash my hair and I’ll have no time,” She groaned, quickly becoming very cross.
Fred and George shared a look.
“Well if that’s the only problem, it’s easily solved! George and I can go for you, can’t we?” Fred stated, looking at his brother for confirmation.
“Yeah, we’ll have time after we pop home to change! You’ve already made a list, so it should be easy.” George offered.
Hermione blinked at them through flour-coated eyelashes.
“You’d do that for me?” She asked, her temper edging away as she looked at the kind expressions aimed at her. Their sincerity made them all the more attractive, and she was suddenly very self conscious of her bizarre appearance.
“It’s no trouble at all. We’ll just go get changed and head straight to the store. And now you,” Fred said charmingly, pointing towards the stairs, “need to go unearth that lovely witch from this peculiar new...er, look, that you’ve tried.”
Perking up a bit at being called lovely by one of her favorite duo, she straightened up and dusted herself off as best as she could.
“Thank you so much. I mean it- you two are wonderful.”
“Yes, we are indeed the paragon of gallantry, there are those who believe we should be knighted, or even sainted-” Fred started, with a hand held solemnly over his heart, but George grabbed him and steered him towards the fireplace.
“We’ll see you soon, Hermione! Don’t worry!” He called, and then with a flash of green, they were gone.
With the house suddenly empty, she took a moment to sigh loudly. It had been an already busy and eventful day, and this housewarming party was sure to go on until the wee hours of the morning. With that thought in mind, she squared her shoulders and went to go upstairs, bringing the dusty box marked “Miscellaneous” up with her.
Padding into her room, she made quick work of wriggling out of her flour-stained clothes, and hopped into the attached shower to get rid of the mess. The hot water felt incredibly relaxing, and with the help of a very strong potion-infused conditioner, her hair was relieved of the dusty powder.
Taking some time to simply enjoy the hot water, she found her thoughts lingering on Fred and George. If someone had told her at age fourteen that ten years later, they’d be her dear friends, making her feel special with their incorrigible flirting, and coming to her aid in times of need, she would have eaten her hat. But, then again, a lot had changed since then.
Not the least of which was their dashing good looks…
Fred had a way of smiling so brightly that she just wanted to bask in its warmth. His larger than life attitude suited him in every way, and the way she felt so small in his hugs made her look forward to each time he’d walk in the door.
George had a quieter intensity, that at times seemed to burn even brighter than his brother’s. Sometimes, he would save a witty remark just for her ears, and it felt like she was in on an exciting secret when he did.
They were so irritatingly charming.
She sighed to herself. Did they both have to have such broad shoulders? And was it really necessary for the powers that be to bestow upon them two matching rugged jawlines? It wasn’t really fair, when they were just her best friend’s brothers, and thus, grabbing them both to snog the living daylights out of them was rather off limits.
A wave of heat rushed through her at her self-indulgent little fantasy of shoving them both in a broom closet for a secret rendezvous. Two matching sets of those delightfully large hands…
Before her thoughts could carry her away any further, she shook her head and pushed the fantasy out of her mind.
Hermione turned off the water and got out, checking the time as she toweled off. A little reminder in her head went off- she needed to track down those shot glasses. After slipping on her bra and a matching pair of panties, she wandered over to the end table next to her bed, where she’d dropped off the box. Using her wand to start a drying spell on her hair, she began to rummage around.
After rifling through a collection of little knick knacks, she located her set of shot glasses -Gryffindor colors, of course. Satisfied, she was about to put the box back on the table when something caught her eye.
Curious, she pushed aside a charmed temperature-holding tea cup to grasp a brightly colored paper box and read the title out loud.
“Patented Daydream Charm...able to produce a very realistic daydream for up to thirty minutes…” She murmured, smiling to herself at the box that she hadn’t seen in years.
A memory of complimenting this item at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes and being awarded this very box in return danced past her mind, and she chuckled. As she’d been a good amount more uptight in those days, she’d refused to give it a try, and had promptly stuffed the item in a box of random items, only to forget all about it until this very moment.
A light chuckle escaped her at the memory of her younger self.
She almost went to put the item back to await her for another score of years, but suddenly, her thoughts from the shower returned to her in a flash of heat.
She paused, box still in hand. Looking at the illustrated pirate and the swooning maiden, she bit her lip.
She still had at least an hour before the two of them would be back from the store...
Did she dare?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the box to pluck out the paper that held the advertised “Simple Incantation.”
Glancing around her, she clambered up on her bed, feeling more than a bit foolish.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself.
She recited the incantation and lay back on the pillows, wondering what would happen…
__________________________________________________________________________
“Hermione! We’re back,” George announced, stepping out of the fireplace after his twin and dusting off his button up shirt.
“We realized after we got changed that we’ve forgotten the list, please don’t kill us,” Fred called sheepishly, walking into the kitchen in search of the paper.
George peered around, looking for the petite witch. He trod through the open living space and into the dining room, expecting to find her getting the home ready for the party.
No one responded.
Clanging sounds echoed from the kitchen as the other man rifled through the space for the shopping list.
“Well, I can’t find the blasted thing,” Fred called from the kitchen, “wasn’t it stuck on this, er, fridge device?”
George didn’t answer, looking around with a slight frown. Hermione had seemed to be very focused on getting things ready for the housewarming, and he had thought that she’d be waiting with bated breath for them to return with the food so that she could get right to preparing it. He was brought out of his thoughts by his brother peering around the kitchen doorway.
“Did you hear me? Can’t find the list, so we’re definitely dead.” Fred remarked casually, munching on a biscuit he’d clearly raided from the jar.
“D’you think it’s a bit odd that-” George began, but he was cut off by a small noise that seemed to come from upstairs.
Fred made a move to speak, but George brought a finger to his lips, motioning for him to be quiet.
The two men glanced at the stairs, expecting to find the brunette witch, but saw nothing. The house was empty and quiet, with no signs of activity.
“Hermione? Is that you?” George called out.
Silence.
Suddenly, Hermione’s voice gasped out sharply from the direction of her bedroom.
Fred and George shared an instant, worried look.
“Hermione!”
They sprinted towards the stairs, George taking the lead.
“I knew she hurt herself when she fell!”
Another gasp echoed throughout the home.
“Blimey, it sounds bad-” Fred gasped, face pale with worry.
“Hermione, it’s us, we’re coming up!” George shouted, taking the steps two at a time.
They rounded the corner towards her bedroom, nearly tripping on the new hallway rug they’d placed upstairs hours before.
“Are you alright?” Fred called out from halfway down the hall. He was surprised at how quickly his heart was beating- if anything happened to her…
They were almost to her bedroom door-
“Oh, God… Fred…”
Both men froze in their tracks as Hermione called out the man’s name in what could only be described as the most sinfully erotic voice they’d ever heard.
Fred and George turned slowly to look at one another in shock.
“Did she just say…” George whispered, eyes wide.
“I...it couldn’t be…” Fred trailed off, his heart now beating madly for quite a new reason.
The tall men stood rooted to the spot in the hallway.
A luxurious moan wafted from the down the corridor. The sound of sheets rustling permeated the air, seeming impossibly loud in the silence.
Fred blinked rapidly and tried to comport himself, he opened his mouth to tell his twin that they should go, but then-
“George...ah- yes…” Her feminine purr whispered into the darkness of the corridor.
Fred glanced at George- he was bracing himself with one arm on the wall, eyes unfocused.
For a moment, neither of them could find words. They stood in the quiet of the hallway, listening to the witch’s desperate sighs and gasps.
Fred’s imagination began to run wild, the intoxicating sounds coming from down the hall painting sinful images across his mind. He was running his hands down the curve of her hips, kissing a burning path up her thigh as she sighed out his name- what would it be like to slide himself into her wet heat…
He shook his head to clear his mind.
“Did you… have any idea?” Fred asked his twin quietly, finding it hard to breathe normally.
George was silent for a beat, leaning on his braced arm.
“No. I mean, I’d hoped- but no.”
Over the last few years, he had finally noticed how alluring Hermione was, what with those big brown eyes and her razor sharp wit. Somehow, without meaning to, he and Fred had begun a bit of a flirting war with her- both of them taking the time to ensure she felt quite attended to whenever they’d see her. However, as much as they’d enjoyed talking about one day interrupting her witty comments with a good, hard, snog, he supposed that neither of them really thought that anything could happen.
But it seemed that fate had other plans.
“George - God - I need you…” Hermione gasped.
At that, George couldn’t stop himself- he took several steps further towards her voice. What he didn’t expect was to see Hermione’s door cracked nearly halfway open.
His blue eyes widened in shock.
From his viewpoint, he could see the brunette lying on her bed, tangled in the sheets. It seemed that she was dreaming, her eyes closed and arms thrown back against her pillow. He swallowed thickly at the sight of her skin far more exposed than he’d ever seen- a matching set of pale blue lingerie was all that kept the secrets of her body from being laid bare.
In an instant, his mind played out what he’d do to her if he could- he’d rip that teasing blue lace right off her, and use it to tie those delicate hands together- fuck, maybe she’d make those noises for him as he held onto the makeshift ties and took her from behind-
He heard Fred’s footsteps, followed by a ragged breath.
“Merlin’s beard,” Fred said hoarsely, shocked at the view.
As if on cue, Hermione arched her back up from the bed, unknowingly putting her lace-clad breasts on display, and let out a delicate moan.
“Need you both, yes, just like that-”
“Fucking hell,” Fred gasped, “We have to get out of here, this isn’t-”
“I know, it’s not right. Shit, we should go-” George agreed, tearing his eyes away from the sleeping witch’s form. Something bright and colorful caught his gaze on the floor. It was a small box, and it looked oddly familiar. Suddenly, it clicked.
“Bloody hell, Fred- it’s a Daydream Charm. It’s one of our own fucking Daydream Charms,” He rasped.
Fred’s eyebrows raised in distant recognition as they stumbled back towards the stairs, neither man being capable of coherent words while looking at the witch. When they at least reached a safe distance, Fred fully processed what George had said.
“A Day- but we haven’t sold those in- what, five years now, since we discontinued them?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” hissed George, the intoxicating sounds growing fainter as they gained distance from her room.
“Shit, you’re right- that has to be the one we gave her way back- bloody fucking hell. That’s years past the expiry date! It’s got to be potent as, what, a freshly brewed Amortentia? Why would she use it if it was expired?” Fred questioned erratically, sitting down on the couch with a heavy thud
“She must have gotten one of the first batches, we didn’t know to put those dates on the packages back then.” George mused, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair in thought.
The twins paused for a moment and looked at each other. Now, away from the dizzying sounds echoing from the dreaming witch, a bit of clarity came to them.
“So our own Hermione has a bit of a secret, it seems.” Fred smirked at his brother.
“Seems a shame to leave her with only a Daydream Charm version of what she could have.”
“Even if it is likely the most powerful Daydream Charm any of our customers ever used. I mean, blimey, it’s got to feel like real life for her right now with how expired that one is.”
“Well, it seems we’ll have to do some research tonight...” George began.
“...on the effects of two devilish ginger rogues on one maddeningly sexy little bookworm.” Fred finished, a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes.
The two brothers rose to their feet and stepped quietly towards the fireplace. Fred spied the forgotten shopping list on the floor by the kitchen walkway and scooped it up, and they exited before the witch could realize what they had witnessed.
____________________________________________________________________________
Hermione raised a glass of champagne to her lips, trying to calm her flustered nerves. As she scanned the crowd of party-goers, all chatting happily away, heated thoughts raced through her mind.
She had never expected the Daydream Charm to have...well, that effect.
True, she had been hoping that she’d be able to enjoy half an hour of silly romantic dreams featuring the two men that most occupied her thoughts when she couldn’t sleep.
But she’d never imagined the devastatingly erotic fantasies of the three of them together that had played across her mind. When she finally woke up, she was riding out the edge of a dream-induced orgasm.
For minutes afterwards, she had simply laid there in bed, heart hammering nearly out of her chest, as she realized what had happened, what she had dreamed of.
How had the spell been so powerful?
She’d never heard of the Daydream Charm having such a realistic, physical effect before. But it wasn’t as if she could just waltz up to Fred and George and ask them about it - there would be too many questions.
The thought of confessing to them what she had done sent an unbidden spike of desire through her, and she grasped her champagne more firmly.
The evening was by all accounts a huge success, her new home was full of her dearest friends and loved ones, along with Ministry co-workers and old Hogwarts classmates. Everyone seemed to be having a jolly time, and there was plenty of food and drink to go around. Hermione looked at her dining room table, covered in a delightful assortment of savory snacks and sweet treats, and blanched.
She had been horribly awkward when Fred and George had arrived with the contents of the shopping list. She’d greeted them far too brightly and scooped up the shopping, immediately bustling into the kitchen and barely saying a word to either of them.
For their part, they seemed content to simply graze on a few snacks and stay out of her way, but she thought that she imagined some lingering glances from them. Although logically she knew that there was no way they’d be aware of her little indulgence, she still had difficulty meeting their eyes. Somehow she felt that if she did, she’d spill her little secret- something that the prim, proper Hermione would never allow.
But the other Hermione…
She shook her head.
Perhaps a little less of the champagne, then…
The brunette tore her eyes away from the matching backs of Fred and George, who were seemingly deeply invested in conversation with Neville.
She smoothed down her red party dress, and moved to set her nearly-empty champagne glass down. Walking into the dining room, she struck up a conversation with the newly engaged Luna, who happily began telling her all about the unconventional yet charming plans that she and Neville had for their upcoming wedding.
The evening went on, and people came and went. The delicious assortment of snacks was still overflowing, although everyone had been enjoying it throughout the evening. More than a normal amount of Firewhiskey had been consumed, as Ron had been thoughtful enough to bring an entire three extra handles (“Just in case!” He had repeated his earlier words upon arrival, grinning).
It was just past midnight, and the crowd had dwindled to a few final guests.
Fred and George had apparently left without saying goodbye, which was both a relief and a disappointment to her. While she had purposely avoided them all evening, she felt a sense of loss at the lack of attention. She tried not to let it affect her.
Neville and Luna were seated on the largest couch, chatting quietly with Lee Jordan. Harry and Ginny had just emerged from the upstairs corridor, wearing matching grins- it was obvious that they’d been enjoying a late night snogging session.
“Right then, I think we’ll be off,” Harry remarked cheerfully to Hermione, clasping Ginny’s hand firmly in his own.
Ginny, who was more than a little tipsy, giggled and leaned in to him.
“Let us know if you need any clean up help tomorrow, yeah?” She asked, wobbling and holding onto Harry’s arm for support.
“You’ve done more than enough today,” Hermione answered, “And I’m not sure if you’ll feel up for helping tomorrow anyway,” She finished with a chuckle.
Harry hiccuped quietly and nodded his head with a small laugh. He looked to his left, where a sleeping Ron was sprawled out on the smaller couch.
“I reckon this one will definitely feel it in the morning. C’mon, Ginny, let’s drop him off at his place on our way,” he suggested, flicking his wand so that Ron’s sleeping form floated up, undisturbed, towards the fireplace.
“Thanks a ton. For everything, really,” Hermione said, waving them goodbye.
She heard Harry say “Grimmauld Place,” and they were gone.
Taking their cue, Neville, Luna, and Lee all got up and said their goodbyes. Luna hugged Hermione, telling her that she would owl her with some more wedding details.
In another minute, they had all left, and Hermione was on her own.
She tucked a stray curl from her loose hair behind her ear, and let out a sigh. Taking a moment to pour herself another glass of champagne, having barely touched her drink all evening, she sat on the couch and stared into the slowly burning embers of the fire.
The warmth of the champagne sent ghostly memories whispering across her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of her dream-lovers’ heated kisses, burning across her bare skin… being pressed between two strong forms… reeling at the touch of their hands on her most intimate places...
A shiver ran through her whole body. Letting out a sharp breath, she drained the rest of glass in a single swig, and decided she had better try and get some sleep. With a flick of her wand, the downstairs lights dimmed away, the dying embers in the hearth the only remaining light. Eager to rid herself of her high heels and get comfortable, she turned to head upstairs, unzipping the back of her red dress as she went.
Reaching her bedroom door, she grasped the handle and swung it open. She stepped into the darkened space, and turned to shut the door behind her with a loud sigh.
“Long day?” A voice asked from the shadows.
Hermione screamed.
.
.
.
A/N: Hope you liked it, darlings. Part two to come soon. Reviews make me write faster!