Part 6: The Weasley Family Dinner


"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family." -Anthony Brandt


When Hermione and Fred stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow, their daughters were sitting at the kitchen table, one on either side of Arthur, telling him in excited voices about their week, as Molly listened to them from the stove, inserting an occasional "really" or "ooh" when appropriate.

Everyone was present except for Ron and Bill, and their voices could be heard from the adjoining room. Fred released Hermione's hand and went off in search of his twin as Hermione went to kiss her animated children.

When Fred re-entered the room with his siblings in tow, the girls were mid-story quickly relaying the events so that they were difficult to understand if you didn't listen closely.

"Then white stuff getted all over the floor, and Uncle Pewcy kissed Aunt Penny," said Erin.

"Perce, what the hell have you been doing in front of my kids?" Fred asked, smirking, as Percy blushed a deeper shade of red than his hair.

"Daddy," said Emily, "we telled Uncle Pewcy that Mummy always say 'Fwed, not in fwont of da childwen' when you do dat."

"Perce, what the fuck?" said Fred, as he took a seat next to his wife; it was, however, a very unwise decision indeed, placing himself near Hermione.

She landed a sharp elbow to his ribs. "Fred!"

"Ow, babe!"

"Fred Weasley! You will not use that language in my kitchen," chastised Molly.

"Sorry, Mum. But, I know what I'm usually doing when she tells me that. And trust me when I say it's not something that's appropriate in front of kids." Fred said the majority of the statement under his breath, as he continued to rub at the sore spot on his ribs. "Damn it, baby, that one hurt."

"So brother," chimed in George, "what are you usually trying to do that you shouldn't be in front my darling nieces?"

"Well, I-" Hermione's hand clamped down over his mouth.

"Such a bad influence," teased George.

"Yeah, Perce, no need for you to corrupt my kids. That's what they've got me and George for," Fred said after successfully prying his wife's hand from his mouth.

In an attempt to move the focus of the conversation from him, Percy looked at his nieces and said, "Ladies, why don't you show everyone what you got at Uncle Charlie's."

"Where's Viktor, by the way, dear?" asked Molly.

Charlie narrowed his eyes and gave Percy his best, I-didn't-say-anything-so-why-did-you-turn-on-me look, followed closely by the you-will-pay-for-this-later look. "He'll be here soon, Mum."

The girls eagerly yanked up their shirts to display the tattoos of the dragons on their tummies, still as clearly vivid as the day they got them. Hermione gritted her teeth before turning to her brother-in-law. "How long are these supposed to last, Uncle Charlie?"

"Um, three days," Charlie said, choking on the bite of mashed potatoes he had placed in his mouth.

"And when did they get them?"

"Seven days ago," he mumbled under his breath, directing his gaze at his plate.

"Mummy, do you wike 'em?" asked Erin, pointing proudly at her tummy.

"Oh, it's lovely, sweetheart."

"It's a Hungwy Horny-Tail," said Emily.

"Sounds like we need to get one of those for Perce," said George.

Everyone laughed and Charlie flashed Percy his best 'serves-you-right' smile.

"Uncle Chawlie's got a dwagon on his tummy too," said Emily.

"And Uncle Viktor's got one on his back," said Erin.

As if on cue, Viktor stepped from the fireplace.

"Oh hello, Viktor dear," said Molly, getting an additional plate from the cabinet.

He held up his hand. "No, thank you. I cannot stay. I must go back to finish meeting. Ve have permission to re-open Reserve soon, I hope," Viktor said.

"Permission to re-open it. What happened that it was closed, Viktor?" asked Hermione.

Viktor shot an angry look at Charlie. "You did not tell zem?"

"They only just got here," said Charlie, looking back at his plate again. "I was gonna.

But, before I start, I just want to say that Ron took them flying, and he had Lavender with him." Charlie clearly wanted the attention off him before telling his story, and he had known exactly what button to push with Hermione.

"He let that slag around my daughters?" she ranted. "We have talked about that."

"Mummy, what's a slag?" asked Emily.

Hermione's face turned red at her daughter's question.

"Oi! Stop everything! I want it noted for the record that Uncle George did not teach them that word. They did not learn 'slag' from me. All the others were my doing, but that one was not!"


Hermione was grateful when they stepped out of the fireplace and into their own flat with their daughters in tow. She put them straight to bed and they fell asleep almost instantly.

A storm was brewing outside and lightning silhouetted Fred's body when she entered their room. Thunder masked all sound as she stripped off her clothes and laid down beside him pressing her nude body to his.

Fred began kissing her as the thunder cracked overhead. There was a shriek from down the hall and Fred dropped his head to her chest with a frustrated sigh. Hermione pulled on her dressing gown and headed down the hall to comfort her child. When she re-entered the room, Fred pulled her back down on the bed and recommenced their kissing.

"How long do you think we have before they're at the door scared and asking to sleep with us?"

The lightning flashed brightly. "I wouldn't dawdle if I were you," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly. "I have loved having you all to myself this week, you know?"

"It was nice gettin' to shag you all day. I think we managed to cover most places in the flat."

"Do you think we might do it again soon?"

"Shag? I think we might do it right now."

She smacked his shoulder. "You know perfectly well what I meant."

"Well, they did so much better than we anticipated. They only managed to get themselves banned from one country—possibly two. The word's still out on Bulgaria."

"Yeah, I don't think Romania will appreciate having them back anytime soon, whether they were what released the dragons or not."

"Hermione, do you think they did—you know—bring down all those wards?"

"Well, it sounds silly enough, but I wouldn't put anything past them."

"Growing them up is not going to be easy, is it?"

"No," she said.

He pushed his hips against hers, his hardness pressing into her thigh.

"I would just like to point out that I was a well-behaved child, so I think I must be paying for your poor behaviour."

Fred cocked his head to the side as though thinking about it. "I'll concede that point."

"Fred?"

"Hm?"

"You're dawdling."

"Eager, aren't we?"

"So eager," she said. She leaned up and licked her way up his neck, stopping along the way to nip him several times, as she made her way to his earlobe. "So eager to have that big, hard cock of yours inside me," she whispered against his ear.

"You keep talking like that, it's not gonna be hard long."

The lightning lit the room, and the look on his face was one of waning restraint. His lips were puffy from their kisses and his freckles stood out against the whiteness of his skin.

"I love you," she said softly against his ear, as she felt him press against her entrance. Her folds opened to allow him access as he pressed on and sheathed himself fully inside her. Their lovemaking tonight was just that: making love. It wasn't an urgent or passion-filled coupling; it consisted of long, slow strokes and whispered words of affection. She teetered on the edge of ecstasy, when Erin's voice startled them both back to harsh reality.

"Hermione, please tell me that is your hand on my back."

"I can't."

"Daddy, Spot is afwaid of da storm."


Hermione re-entered their bedroom a half-hour later.

"So, did we do any lasting damage?" he asked, pulling her close when she got into the bed.

"Nah, she was too scared of the thunder to notice anything more than kissing, which they see us do all the time, was going on. I'm sure I put the locking spell on our door though."

"You do realise that Hogwarts, after thousands of years, may not withstand their first year?" Fred asked. "A wand in their hands is a terrifying thought."

"Aren't you an optimistic one? I would be willing to wager that Hogwarts, as we know it, won't exist after their first week."

"Well, I think we've proven we know what to do with those seven days before they send them home."

"I'm becoming forgetful, so I might need a reminder later, Fred."

"Just say when, baby."

End of Story.