Author's Note: This is our submission for the Twin Exchange September Challenge.

Theme:Hermione Granger, born September 19

Pairing: FredHermioneGeorge

Prompt: Detention

Quotes: "Oh no!" "I completely forgot" and "Have you seen it?" – We're being ambitious

Summary: When Hermione's birthday turns out to be less than what she hoped for, Fred and George step in to prove to her that fortune favours the bold.

Let Them Eat Cake

Hermione Granger wondered what – in the span of a few hours – had gone wrong in her life.

She hadn't woken up that morning in a bad mood. In fact, she had woken up in a fairly good mood. She had finished her Potions essay early the night before, which had ensured her time to concentrate on her Transfiguration homework with the single-mindedness she liked to devote to her favourite subject. She hadn't gotten a good night's sleep, but had considered it a necessary sacrifice to the pursuit of knowledge as she buried her nose in a fascinating book on the history of ancient runes that she had picked up for some light reading from the dusty corners of the Hogwarts library. And she had woken up with the knowledge that she had survived to live another year and though she was a year older, her best friends would always be there to celebrate her trials and her triumphs.

Of course, that was before she got to breakfast.

Somewhere between Harry's sulking and Ron's utter incoherence as he stuffed his freckled face with bacon and fried tomatoes, Hermione realized that her best friends; the two boys – or rather, developing men – beside her; the fighters of evil and brothers in all but blood, had completely forgotten her sixteenth birthday.

On top of that, Harry was in one of his moods and had unnecessarily attacked her loyalty six times between breakfast and their first class. This had Ron less inclined to provoke Harry further, which meant filtering all of Hermione's valid discussion points with patronizing phrases like "What she meant was," and "I think Hermione means," successfully distilling Hermione's well thought-out common sense into a mass of placation that made her blood pressure spike to new levels.

And it was only September.

So when Hermione entered Potions after lunch, freshly stung by the new wave of unkind epithets Harry had showered upon her, she was beyond the mere annoyance that tended to come with being friends with two boys whose entire emotional intelligence ranked somewhere between a flobberworm and an Oliphant. Almost throwing her books on the table and fuming as she sat in front of her cauldron, even Draco Malfoy swallowed his smirking sentiment with one look from her flashing hazel eyes.

Everyone could tell that Hermione Granger was well and truly pissed off.

"Everyone hand up your essays and do so silently," Snape's smooth, cold voice sounded from the back of the room and there was a hint of muted rustling as everyone moved to their bags in a great attempt at silence as the pale, sallow professor glided to the front of the room.

Automatically, Hermione reached for her bag before realizing – with a mixed sensation of mortification and anger – that she had forgotten her Potions essay. The twelve, carefully printed inches of parchment that she had been so excited about the night before – and what its completion had symbolized – was sitting neatly on the little table next to her four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower.

Without thinking, she let out a very loud, very bitter swear.

The dungeon fell to a deathly silence as everyone, Ron and Harry included, turned to her in complete disbelief. Had she been in a more objective mood, she would have felt the dread and embarrassment that occurred when one forgot oneself in Snape's presence. Hermione, however, was tired from her lack of sleep, annoyed by her own forgetfulness, fed up with the boys' attitudes and livid that no one seemed to remember her birthday.

Those ingredients combined did not an objective student make.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for your clear disrespect for the English language. Now pass up your essay silently," Snape drawled coolly, his onyx eyes fixed on her.

"I don't have it," Hermione said bluntly, folding her arms over her chest in an unprovoked defensive stance as she looked her ornery professor squarely in the eye.

There was a collective gasp and Hermione was certain that Neville's eyes would bulge out of his head if she kept up her uncharacteristically defiant behaviour.

Snape's nostrils flared.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I said I don't have it."

"You don't have it?"

"No."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"No, what?"

Hermione met his eye.

"No, sir," she said, but she hardly thought he would miss her clearly derisive tone.

"An additional fifty points from Gryffindor for your insolence. Now please repeat for the class exactly what I said about this essay when I assigned it?" Snape snapped, sauntering over to where she sat and standing over her menacingly.

Having been condescended to enough already, Hermione could not curb the flash of animosity that overtook her.

"To be honest, I completely forgot, professor," she replied, the mockery of his title dripping from her words.

She briefly saw a flicker of surprise on his face, but he recovered with a wry smile whose mirth did not fill his eyes.

"Then I think a month's worth of detentions should sufficiently jog your memory. What do you think of that, Miss Granger?"

The resurrection of her previously-ignored mental filter and a pleading look from Ron were the only things that stopped Hermione from expounding, ad nauseam, just what she did think of it, so she bit her tongue and let the rest of the lesson go by without another word to her iron-hearted professor or anyone else.

As expected, the news of her bravado didn't stay within the confines of the dungeon and by suppertime everyone in the Great Hall was whispering about how the resident know-it-all, Miss Hermione Granger, had fearlessly faced off with the one and only Severus Snape and had come out with a month's worth of detentions.

Sitting demurely beside a once more apathetic Harry and a still-dumbstruck Ron, however, Hermione was in no mood to accept praise for a reckless deed that would have her bowing and scraping before one of the most distasteful professors in the school for a full month.

That sentiment, of course, did not stop the rebellious praise from coming.

"Blimey, Granger, I didn't think you had it in you!" an amused – albeit slightly awed – voce said abruptly from her right.

"Yeah! Bloody epic. Imagine: you, taking on the old grease bat," an equally amused and awed voice said from her left.

Hermione didn't need to look to know who had suddenly flanked her.

"It's not something I'm particularly proud of, gentlemen, so if you don't mind…" she said somewhat superciliously, sticking her nose up and her chin out.

Fred and George laughed genially, ignoring the less-than-subtle brush-off. Fred swung his leg over to sit beside her on the long bench and George followed suit, pushing Harry and Ron aside as they continued to stare at the younger witch with looks of awe.

"Well we're bloody proud of you," Fred said, picking a piece of roast pumpkin from her plate and tossing it in his mouth greedily.

"So proud, in fact…" George agreed, grinning at her as he stole a piece of steamed broccoli.

"…that we were inspired," Fred concluded, swallowing the remaining pumpkin with a look of bliss.

"Inspired to do what?" she asked reluctantly, pulling her plate closer to her to avoid them finishing off her meal.

They were both about to answer her when the billowing black robes of a very angry Severus Snape came sweeping into the Great Hall, capturing almost every student's attention. Hermione could have sworn she saw the Potion Master's nostrils flaring all the way from the double doors, and it was any wonder there was no steam emitting from his ears.

Though far from a pleasant figure during mealtimes, it was clear Professor Snape was royally pissed off about something that evening and he seemed to know exactly who was to blame. His ebony eyes were locked on the three of them as he stalked toward the Gryffindor table.

"What did you do?" Ron hissed, shrinking back slightly in the face of Snape's anger.

"Have you ever noticed – " George muttered quietly, his eyes never leaving the fast approaching, fuming professor.

" – how much fennel seeds – " Fred breathed.

"Look like Mudgrip eggs?" George concluded with a slight squeak to his voice as the man more commonly referred to as 'the Greasy Git' stopped directly in front of them.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape snarled, his thin upper lip curling back over his teeth. "And…Mr. Weasley."

"Professor Snape!" Fred greeted, a large, overly gracious smile plastered to his face. "And what can we do for you today, kind sir?"

If looks could kill, Fred Weasley would be six feet under.

"You destroyed my potions lab, set fire to several of my students and concluded the entire act with a fireworks display that wouldn't even be appropriate if it were New Years," the man said quietly. "So I believe there is a lot you can do for me."

Hermione shivered as the silky, raw voice of the angry man in front of them washed over her. Even though she had been cool as a cucumber while under his rage earlier, in the light of hindsight, she realized she should have been petrified. She wondered how Fred and George could remain so calm.

Probably practice.

"Ah, you see…" Fred began.

"About that, sir..." George said at the same time.

Snape arched an eyebrow, waiting to see what excuse they would come up with.

"Detention at eight?" Fred guessed, his smile fading a little.

"Seven-thirty?" George offered meekly when he saw the frozen look on the professor's face.

"Seven, and don't dress up for the occasion. I expect you will get a little..." He looked the three of them up and down then, a sneer marring his less-than-handsome features. "... dirty."

***

Hermione arrived early, finding the dungeons to be bitterly cold and dark in the evening after the last residual heat of the sun had faded. Light flared from the Potions classroom and she pushed through the door with a sense of trepidation.

Severus Snape sat behind the wide desk at the front of the room, his head bent over a rather long essay, his hair falling about his face in greasy strings. She gulped and took a tentative step into the room, which seemed to bear no mark of the twins' earlier misadventures and fireworks display.

"Ah, Miss Granger," his silky voice floated to her from across the room. "Early, as usual."

"Um…thank you," she replied, unsure what else to say.

"That wasn't a compliment. Punctuality is, of course, encouraged here at Hogwarts, but arriving before you are expected can be considered rude, especially if the host is not prepared," he replied, never once looking up from his parchment.

"Oh. Sorry," she said, not moving from the door as she felt the anger from earlier in the day start to rise.

Snape scoffed.

"A useless sentiment if one does not mean it," he mused before motioning briskly to one of the desks. "I want you to take a full inventory of the store room and ensure that every ingredient is what it's supposed to be. There is a quill and parchment sitting there. If the Weasley twins had time to switch the Mudgrip eggs, then they have surely had the time to tamper with other things."

Her trepidation returning, Hermione unglued her feet from the stone floor and moved shakily to the indicated quill and parchment, casting a wary glance at the Potions Master before entering the door to his right. She had never had detention before and being alone in the same room as someone so intimidating had her insides quivering. She wondered if Fred and George would be joining her, or if Snape had other plans for them.

"I would get started if I were you," came the cool voice from the other room. "That is, if you wish to return to your common room tonight."

Hermione shot a startled look toward the open doorway, before turning to face the first floor-to-ceiling shelf. A sense of dread overcame her as she realised there were surely thousands of ingredients in jars of every shape. It would take her hours, if not all night, to get through them all.

With a deep breath of determination, she set about her task.

It wasn't long before she heard a crashing in the hallway, followed by two pairs of feet stomping into the classroom. She put the jar of dehydrated lacewing flies back on the shelf and peered out to see Fred and George – flushed and panting – enter the room.

"You're late," Snape observed.

"Sorry Professor," George gasped out, his palms resting on his knees as he caught his breath.

"You see, Peeves..." Fred began, but stopped when he caught the professor's look. "Never mind, sir."

"Indeed," Snape said, his eyebrow cocked in what would have been described as amusement to those who didn't know the man well. "It should come as no shock to you gentlemen that I'm deducting twenty-five points each for your tardiness, and assign you five additional detentions each to be served with Mr. Filch, as I will not tolerate you for an additional five nights."

Hermione could see both twins clenching their fists as they held back their anger at the clear abuse of power the Potions Master was showing, but they intelligently kept their mouths shut. Noting their pinking faces with a self-satisfied sneer, Snape pointed a long, pale finger in the direction of the supply closet where Hermione was standing.

"I don't dare suppose that you left the rest of my ingredients alone," he said. "So I want you to go through every jar, count every ingredient…Yes, Mr. Weasley, every ingredient. I want to know how many twylar seeds are in each jar, how many lacewing flies I have in stock…and I want you to clean the jars before you return the ingredients to them."

"But Professor," Fred said, unable to stop himself. "You have thousands of ingredients! There's no possible way we'll get it all done tonight!"

Snape's onyx eyes sparkled maliciously.

"Best get started then."

Hermione could see murder in the twins' blue eyes as they turned on their heels and marched towards her. They were moving so fast she was only just able to get out of the way as the door was wrenched open and they both rushed in, smoke practically billowing from their ears.

"Oh!" George said, his countenance changing immediately when he saw her. "Hello, Hermione."

"Fancy seeing you here!" Fred added, bowing elegantly before her and taking her ink-stained hand, kissing her knuckles gallantly.

"Are you going to be helping us on this utterly useless task?" George asked, looking slightly eager at the idea that there was an additional pair of hands to help them in their assignment.

"Um…afraid not, boys," she said apologetically. "I'm simply supposed to make sure that each ingredient is what it's supposed to be."

"Ah," Fred said. "Well, in that case, I would say beware the juniper roots, the knotbee antennae, and the newt's breath."

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"How on earth did you replace newt's breath?"

George shuddered.

"Don't ask. Just know that it involved us having to bathe three times before we could get the stench out."

"Dead tricky, newt's breath. But quite useful for flatulence products," Fred added.

Hermione didn't dare ask for details.

Knowing that their continued conversation would result in Snape's malicious tongue demanding silence, the three worked noiselessly for an hour, Hermione steering clear of the three suggested ingredients and silently revelling in the mayhem that might result if Snape were to open one of those jars accidentally.

"This is ridiculous," George groaned when he and Fred had worked their way through one shelf of ingredients. "He doesn't even use half of these. They're just here because he wants to say he's got the most well-stocked Potions cabinet in Britain and yet I'm sure half of these ingredients are rancid, or worse."

"George, shh!" Hermione hissed, glancing at the crack of light filtering through the partially open door of the dimly lit cupboard.

Fred glanced out and then looked at them with a smirk.

"The greasy git is gone," he said. "I think he's gone back to his rooms to finish grading essays. It's almost 9, after all."

"Y'think we could make a run for it?" George asked.

"No!" Hermione said, her hazel eyes wide. "You arrived late and you want to ditch the rest? He'll kill you!"

"He'd have to catch us first," George replied, grinning.

"Nah, she's right. We already have five more detentions with Filch. We don't need another ten," Fred said.

George sighed.

"It's unfair. We were late because we were doing something noble! We shouldn't be punished for it."

Hermione scoffed.

"You were doing something noble? I'll believe that when I see it."

Fred arched an eyebrow.

"Really?" he said loftily.

"Yes," she replied, looking squarely up at them both.

"Well, Miss Granger, be prepared to believe," George said, pulling something very small out of his pocket. Fred tapped it with his wand and Hermione watched as a box the size of her fist appeared. Smiling brightly, Fred handed it to her.

"Happy Birthday, Granger," he said.

Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Wh…what?" she stuttered.

"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" George asked.

"Well…yes, but…"

"So," Fred interrupted. "Open it!"

Slightly wary, Hermione opened the box and felt her heart melt. Inside was a cupcake, a small candle on top, and in hurried writing, the number '16' was drawn in icing. Eyes swimming with grateful tears, she looked at the two mischief-makers and choked back a sob.

"Don't cry," George said. "It's not much. We asked Dobby to bake it this morning. We were going to give it to you at dinner – "

" – but we got distracted by news of your stirring show of Gryffindor courage," Fred finished.

"So we ran to get it before detention," George said with a smile.

"Thank you," she said softly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Oh, come off it," Fred said, nudging her slightly. "I'm sure this was nothing compared to what Harry and Ron gave you."

The events of the day – specifically Harry and Ron's definitive forgetfulness – made the tears that had been threatening to spill over break their dams. Unable to stop the flow, Hermione put the box on one of the shelves and collapsed into George's arms. Looking bewilderedly at his twin, George patted her back awkwardly while he waited for her to come back to a more coherent state.

"I'm s…sorry," she sobbed, hiccupping. "It…It's just that…th…they…they forgot." She broke into a fresh batch of tears as Fred frowned.

"What do you mean they forgot? Mum sent your birthday present in our care package two days ago. Ron said he'd give it to you on your birthday."

Hermione hiccupped again.

"He didn't give me anything," she said, managing to speak without being interrupted by a rogue sob. "And Harry was being particularly nasty today."

George rolled his eyes.

"I don't understand what he's so unhappy about," he mumbled. "He's Harry bleedin' Potter, isn't he?"

"It's not exactly easy for him!" Hermione said. "He was cooped up in that horrible house with his awful relatives for most of the summer. And he was attacked by dementors. Add that to everything that's happened in his life and I think he's due a couple of sullen days."

Fred shook his head in wonder.

"The git forgets your birthday and treats you like rubbish today and you still defend him. You're a true friend, 'Mione, even if he doesn't see it."

Hermione blushed slightly.

"Now go on, eat your cupcake," Fred encouraged, pulling the treat out of its box and holding it out to her.

Hermione smiled and accepted it, bringing it up to her mouth before a thought made her pause.

"You haven't... you know... done anything to it, have you?" she asked warily.

George gave a mock gasp while Fred clapped a hand to his chest.

"Would we do that to you?" they asked together.

Hermione grinned, her eyebrow arching.

"In a heartbeat."

"Well, rest assured, darling, even if we had wanted to do something, we simply did not have the time. Now eat it before it explodes," George instructed.

"That's promising," she muttered, but bought it up to her mouth again, deciding to trust them just this once.

Taking a bite she almost moaned at the sweet taste that filled her mouth and overcame her senses. Dobby had truly outdone himself, and seemed to know her weakness for strawberry icing. She let her eyes close and savoured the bite.

"See? No tricks," Fred's voice penetrated her private nirvana. She opened her eyes and found the twins closer than they had been before, their eyes trained on her lips. She blushed deeply when she realized she had been putting on a bit of a display.

"You have a bit of..." George said, stepping closer and pointing to her mouth. Her eyes widened as she bought her hand up, but the redhead before her gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away before she could remove the topping.

Embarrassed and confused, she failed to see the glint in his eyes, instead focussing on his slowly advancing twin. Fred and George shared identical grins and moments later their heads practically touched as they leant in toward her.

She held herself stiffly as first one tongue and then the other slowly licked the icing from the corners of her mouth. George shifted his head slightly, his lips brushing over hers before pulling back. This left Fred enough room to repeat the motion.

Heart pounding, eyes wide open, she stared at the twins in shock.

"Don't look so scared Granger," George chuckled, his hand slipping down her wrist to tangle his fingers with her own.

"It's not like you've never thought about it before," Fred said with a waggle of his eyebrows, reaching to take the cupcake from her hand, placing it on a low shelf beside them.

"I-I...this is another trick," she stuttered, not knowing if she could handle their teasing after such a horrible day.

"No, no trick. We just wanted to give the birthday girl..."

"...a birthday treat."

Hermione looked between them, not quite believing they were propositioning her during detention.

"What if I say no?" she asked, just as shocked by her own words as they appeared to be.

"You won't say no. Your curiosity won't let you," Fred said confidently, reaching behind her to close the door. The storeroom suddenly seemed very small, and the setting was much more intimate.

"Let us make this a birthday to remember," George breathed, his voice low and full of promise.

Gnawing on her lower lip, she decided for once in her life she was going to do something for herself. She reached in to her pocket – never really taking her eyes off the two men – and flicked her wand at the door, locking them in and everyone else out.

"Okay, but let's make this quick. Snape might come back," she said quickly, pulling her hand out of George's to shuck off her robes.

"How romantic," Fred sighed dramatically, while George chuckled and pushed her frantic hands out of the way.

"Snape won't be coming back. He never does," the Weasley soothed, helping her undo the first few buttons before using the cloth to drag her closer to him, their chests pressing together.

"Oh," Hermione said softly, looking up in to his sparkling blue eyes.

She sighed when his lips touched hers again, letting him take control of the kiss, feeling the backs of his fingers brushing against the swell of her breasts where they lay exposed to the cool night air. She gave a small start, but didn't pull away from the exhilarating feel of lips against hers when she felt Fred slide in behind her, his hands on her hips as he began to disrobe her.

She wondered just how many other girls had given in to the lure of the Weasley twins when they effectively had her out of her clothes and shivering naked between them in a matter of minutes. Their lips and tongues were intoxicating and their hands manipulated her flesh into a quivering mess of goose bumps.

George pulled away from her, his mouth making a steady path along her jaw line.

"You taste like cupcake," he breathed, before pulling away enough to turn her in his arms until she faced his brother.

"I like cupcakes," Fred grinned before her vision was once again filled with red hair and twinkling blue eyes.

Fred's kisses were much different to George's. His were nowhere near as soft, and he wasn't particularly gentle. His mouth was demanding and seeking against hers, his breath harsh as he gave as much as he took. By the time he pulled back to tug at his own clothing Hermione was so aroused she was ready to tear the buttons from him herself.

Sometime during her kiss with Fred, George had removed his own clothing, his naked body pressed against her back, his arousal making itself known. She moaned and dropped her head back against his shoulder when one of the hands that had been cupping and moulding her breasts shifted lower and traced a path down her abdomen. She gave a sharp gasp when he reached the apex of her thighs and his fingers gently parted her.

Fred paused in the task of removing his pants to watch the shuddering witch. George's fingers seemed to know exactly where she needed them to go, finding the tight bundle of nerves and earning a low, throaty moan for their efforts. Fred's eyes gazed hungrily at her body, so small yet her curves pronounced.

Kneeling in front of the curly-haired witch, Fred ran his hands up her thighs, admiring their soft roundness and inhaling the scent of her arousal. George, eyeing his twin's intentions, removed his hand from Hermione's clit, causing her to groan in disappointment. That groan, however, turned to a blissful sigh as Fred dipped his tongue to taste her.

"Beautiful," George whispered in her ear, licking his fingers before moving his hands up her body to tweak and tease her nipples. Gasping, Hermione arched her back, unused to such attention on her body. She had touched herself a few times but aside from that awful experience with Ron over the summer – one that she was hoping to erase from her memory entirely – no one else had touched her intimately.

The experience was electrifying.

"Merlin, Granger," George breathed as her moans started to get louder from Fred's insistent tongue. "If we had known you would be this bloody hot, we would have done this ages ago."

"Stop…talking…" she gasped, her head dropping to his shoulder as she came under Fred's ministrations, her body shuddering as Fred kissed up her soft stomach and took a nipple between his lips, suckling as George slowly lowered himself and the gasping witch to their knees.

"You're delicious, Hermione," Fred said, looking into her deep hazel eyes and shivering as he saw nothing but milk chocolate desire.

A slow, lustful smirk crossed her face, causing Fred's not-unimpressive cock to twitch.

"Let's see how you taste," she purred, crawling towards Fred and pushing his chest, forcing him to lie back against the cold stone floor.

Looking over her shoulder with a sparkle of mischief in her eye, Hermione wriggled her hips towards a spellbound George.

"I'm sure you don't need an instruction book for what I want you to do to me," she said, causing his blue eyes to widen comically as she let out a throaty chuckle, flipping her hair to one side as she turned back to his twin.

Fred watched through hooded eyes as Hermione took in his body, eyeing him greedily as George once-again gained his senses and ran a hand down her back. She arched into him, telling him she was ready for him, and that was all the invitation he needed before he plunged himself inside her.

Gasping at the welcomed intrusion to her body, Hermione looked into Fred's eyes and he stopped breathing for a moment as he saw the pure pleasure that was reflected in those deep pools. Then they disappeared as he closed his eyes, revelling in her lips as they descended around his aching tip.

"Holy shit, 'Mione," Fred gasped, leaning back on his elbows as he tipped his head back, the nerves in his body slowly starting to fray at the steady sucking she was performing.

"Holy shit is right," George breathed, his hips pistoning back and forth behind the panting witch. "You feel so fucking good, Granger."

He gave a hard thrust and Hermione moaned around Fred's cock, the vibrations making him gasp as sensation burned within him. The very idea that Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, prefect and prude, was causing that sensation with those full, pouting lips of hers made Fred moan even louder as he gave way to his pleasure.

"Fuck!" he shouted as Hermione caressed his balls, his hips bucking as he came in her mouth. She sucked him dry, looking up at him with those lust-filled eyes and licking her lips as he watched her while coming down from his high.

George, knowing he now had the brunette's full attention, started to thrust harder, running his hands down her back and around to fondle her swinging breasts. She groaned, gripping Fred's thighs as her eyes disappeared beneath long lashes, her cheeks flushing as George hit a spot within her that no one had touched before.

"I'm gonna cum," she moaned, her back arching slightly as George drove into her.

"I'm right behind you," George replied hoarsely, the effort of keeping his self-control at bay obvious by the perspiration on his forehead.

"Harder…ohhh…" Hermione cried, her nails digging into Fred's thighs as the redhead watched her unravel. George groaned, her walls clamping down torturously around him, milking him for all he was worth as he thrust one final time, his body shaking as he spilled his seed within her.

They both collapsed on the floor, Hermione's head mere inches away from Fred's flaccid member as the two tried to catch their breath.

"Jesus Christ, Granger," George breathed. "Bloody hell."

"Best…birthday…ever," Hermione said, taking deep breaths and shivering slightly as the cold air whipped around her heated body.

"I think we need to make this a tradition," Fred said, running a hand affectionately through the tangled curls that were spread over his leg. "On both our birthdays, we meet in Snape's potions cupboard, and reminisce."

Hermione looked up at him, a gleam in her eyes.

"Surely we don't have to wait until your birthday to repeat this, do we?"

George chuckled tiredly, pushing himself up and rolling to his side next to her.

"Saucy little minx," he said.

"Hmm…yes," she replied, leaning over and kissing him lightly.

"Oi!" Fred said indignantly, and she smirked, pulling herself to her knees and crushing her lips to his in a fiery – albeit brief – kiss.

"I think we should get changed before Snape decides to check on us," she said, getting to her feet slowly and using the shelves for balance.

"Yeah, I'd rather not have the old git catch me in my skivvies," Fred replied, standing as well.

There was a bit of a scuffle involved in figuring out whose clothes were whose, but in the end they found their respective uniforms and put them on in silence, the occasional giggle from the exhilarated witch being the only sound within the small chamber.

"So," George said, pulling her to him and smirking down at her. "Did you enjoy your birthday present?"

She grinned.

"Yes I did," she replied, glancing at Fred. "Both of them."

"Oh no!" Fred said, looking at the floor.

"Oh! My cupcake!" she cried, seeing her birthday present icing side down on the stone floor, ruined.

"I'm sure there are plenty more in the kitchens. Wanna leave this place and go and see?" George suggested, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Hermione didn't respond, staring down at her cupcake with a slight pout. Fred moved to wrap his arm around her waist, convinced she would protest ditching detention, when she pulled out her wand and flicked it at the baked good.

The cupcake instantly disappeared and she looked around the storeroom, frowning when she couldn't find what she was looking for.

"My notebook, have you seen it?" she asked, pulling out of their arms to look around further. She located it in the far corner and rapped the page with her wand.

Instantly the notebook floated in the air, the quill she had been using poised in front of it. She then flicked her wand at the surrounding walls, muttering an enchantment before stepping back with a satisfied smile.

"What did you just do?" Fred asked warily.

"A simple stock-take spell I read about while studying the difference between muggle and magical businesses. We can go now," she stated happily.

George looked at her with disbelief.

"Why didn't you cast it before?" he asked.

"Because that was before you mentioned more cupcakes," she replied sweetly.

The twins chuckled.

"There is hope for you yet, Granger," Fred grinned.

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