Chapter Text
Hermione was getting tired of breaking wands.
Since joining the auror program after finishing her 8th year, she’d lost count of the number of wands she’d had to pay for, and her wallet screamed every time a new one splintered. She had broken her personal wand once on a job gone awry; she had been sent flying and landed right on it and decided she would repair it and leave it protected, at home, during her future missions.
She wouldn’t be as frustrated if she wasn’t in it alone, but Harry’s wand was as durable as dragon scales after he used the elder wand to fix it, and Ron had quit the Auror program 2 years in for a Keeper position with the Chudley Cannons that he could not pass up, so she was alone in her wand breaking streak. Harry started to make tally charts for each mission Hermione was on, keeping track of her visits to Ollivander's. The joke had gone so far that Hermione decided to hex a certain best friend of hers. Shouldn’t an auror be able to detect a boils hex on their office chair?
Despite Hermione’s newfound efforts to NOT break her wands, some freak accidents always seemed to cause her to return to Diagon Alley in shame. This mission would not be any different. It was 3 years after the war. Of course, Hermione managed to test out of the aurors training program in 2 years instead of 3, so she could help clean up the wizarding world faster. Kingsley had briefed her and the rest of the recon team about an anonymous tip they had gotten for a group of ex-snatchers stirring up trouble in a small camp near Marunweem Lake. When her team apparated in, all hell broke loose.
Hermione had never seen such idiocy in her life. These snatchers had been attempting to replicate the potion Peter Pettigrew brewed to revive Voldemort. Except, because they were idiots, it went completely wrong. The snatchers were being taken over by blobs of thick purple liquid. Some were screaming while others were completely silent. They were all attacking each other around the cauldron, one of them had evidently spilled. It took Hermione 2 hours to finish the cleanup of the potion gone awry and inevitably got some purple goop on her newest wand, rendering it ---well---goopy and useless.
Kingsley had just side apparated to Diagon Alley with her when she saw a head of messy, jet-black hair—most likely belonging to a now boil-covered Potter- -and promptly turned the opposite direction of Ollivander's and ran into the first door she reached.
This decision may have saved her from her pissed best friend, but it also landed her right in a certain red headed lion's den.
Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes was different each time she visited. She hadn’t seen the inside since the summer before, when all of the Weasleys took a trip to the shop for lunch with the twins. Now that it is over a year later and was nearly Christmas, the shop was much more beautiful than she had remembered. The twins had charmed the shop to the max—even having fake snow fall from the ceiling before disappearing quickly off the tile floor. Lights hung from almost every corner of the shop, each changing between a light blue, a deep green, and a crimson red. She noted the crowd in the shop wasn’t as large as it was during the school holidays, but knew the twins would be getting by fine with their delivery orders to Hogwarts.
When she was done being amazed with the decorations, she ran to the back of the shop, up the stairs, and blew through the door to the twin’s flat, locking the door behind her.
“And here I thought aurors were supposed to prevent breaking and entering.”
Hermione turned to face the twin and laughed
“Actually, I think we do more breaking and entering than the criminals. Good to see you Fred!” Hermione walked up to greet Fred with a short hug, “Thanks for letting me into your wards by the way. I always run into people in Diagon Alley that I don’t want to see.”
“I still think we should just as Ollivander link our floo to his—it would be a win-win! You could hide your infamous wand breaking tendencies and his most paying customer would have their own way in!” He said while dodging the punch Hermione threw in his direction.
“Yeah, yeah I get it, but I’m not just hiding because of my wand this time, I promise!” Hermione said as she started to heat the kettle to make tea. Fred sat on the couch and returned to what looked like order sheets.
“What is it this time? See Ron in Diagon Alley? Tell Harry to buy some hair gel? Oh, maybe you spotted that McLaggen guy again?” he said, looking above his work at her to wiggle his eyebrows.
“No, no, and no, but I would definitely hide for that last one. The guy barely lets me breathe at work, if I saw him in public, I’d sprint the other direction!”
Just then there was a resounding pop of apparation. Hermione and Fred turned to see the latter’s twin had arrived.
“Hey Fred. Hey ‘Mione. Would either of you wanna tell me why there’s a boil faced, Harry-Potter sounding bloke downstairs demanding to know if we’ve seen Hermione?”
George looked between the two when Fred started bursting with laughter.
It ended up being contagious, as Hermione couldn’t help but smile, though she hid it behind her fresh tea.
“Don’t tell me you helped me perfect that hex last week JUST to use it first on Harry Potter,” Fred laughed. “I knew something was up when you approached me before I even asked you for help!”
“He had it coming!” Hermione said with a small laugh, “he wouldn’t stop with those tally marks even when I threatened to write Ginny! Now, George, if you don’t mind, could you go let our friend know that you haven’t seen me in weeks?”
“He’s a brave man to continue with the treat of Ginerva looming over him,” George said, him and his twin both slightly pale at the thought of being on their little sister’s bad side. “Ill go ahead and let him k---”
They were inturrepted by several loud knocks on the flat door. “George, Fred, I know you know where she is!” Harry said through the wood.
“Bollocks--George you distract him. Fred, I need to you take me home.” Hermione had set her cup in the sink and quickly walked to Fred.
“Wha--why? To your house?” Fred said, a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“Yes, Fred, to my house. I can’t go myself without a wand, and I don’t want to take yours. You can apparate back here right after to help George. You both know the charm to cure the boils!” Hermione said, grabbing Fred’s wand from his pocket, holding his arm, and apparating without another word.
“Barmy. All the women in our life are barmy,” George sighed as he went to answer the door before Harry broke it down.
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“’Mione you’re barmy! I--I wasn’t ready to apparate that- that fast!” Fred said between dry heaves.
“I’m sorry, I forgot you haven’t had training like me, so you still get nauseous. Here, take this,” Hermione said as she took a potion out of her beaded bag. “Take this and you’ll feel better. Did you want to come inside and sit for a minute?” SHe asked, eyes full of concern.
“No, I-I'll be fine! I should head back to help George actually.” Fred said while gagging again.
“I see. Well, sorry again. I’ll see you again this weekend at your mum’s!” Hermione smiled and waved as she quickly ran into her house, leaving Fred outside with his potion and a new pile of vomit produced as soon as her back turned.
Fred took the time he used to recuperate to study Hermione’s house. It was a single-floor white cottage house with a brown roof. It was at the end of a muggle neighborhood with plenty of trees surrounding it—making it perfect to apparate in and out unnoticed. As he stared, Hermione must have started a fire inside with her own wand, as smoke drifted out of the chimney. It looked just like the house Hermione had described she wanted to buy back in Hogwarts. Her dream house. Fred turned and apparated back to his flat, it looks like both of their dreams had come true.
George was there waiting for him, picking up where he left off on the order sheets. “You’re back faster than expected.” He said while reclined in Fred’s previous seat on the couch.
Fred quirked a brow. “How’d you get rid of Potter so fast, I came back to help you.”
“I just performed the counter charm and sent him on his way. Told him I hadn’t see Hermione all week and that you had to run to Mum’s for an errand,” George said, look at his brother with a grin. “So, what did you guys get up to?”
“Well, I almost threw up on her shoes and she gave me an antinausea potion and went inside. Then I threw up on my own shoes, cleaned that up, and came back here to help you.” Fred said, walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“Wait, you didn’t go inside?” George said, fully dropping the order sheets and staring at his brother.
“..No? Did I need to?” Fred said before gargling and spitting the water in the sink, getting the taste of vomit out of his mouth. “I declined cause I thought you needed me here.”
"Honestly, Freddie you’re daft. One, you know I can run the store by myself anytime I want. Two, we just closed. Three, are you seriously telling me that she invited you inside, and you said no?” George was looking at Fred like he had two heads.
Fred turned around and faced George while leaning back on the sink. “She’s off limits man, I told you I didn’t think about her that way anymore. I can’t. Mom would kill me, ron would kill me, hell SHE would kill me!”
“You don’t think that way, or you don’t WANT to think that way? Hermione is a great gal mate, and you wouldn’t treat her like shit. I think Harry, Ron, Mum and Voldy’s left arse cheek could agree with that,” Geroge said, “I’m not going to say anything else but this. If Hermione came home this weekend with a date, would or would you now try to beat his face in?”
Fred shook his head, sighed, and went to his room. Of course he would beat his face in, but he didn’t want George to know that.
George muttered “Knew it” under his breath and returned to his work fulfilling orders.