It was a well-known fact at Hogwarts that Fred Weasley was a catch. And after the war and officially being labeled a war hero only verified the before mentioned fact. Because of this, Fred was one of the more cocky males in the Wizarding World, sauntering up to any attractive looking witch and never failing to come up with (horrible) pick-up lines that for some reason, actually worked.

Needless to say, Fred Weasley had absolutely no reason to doubt himself when it came to the female kind. And though they didn't know it, this was this reason why the Weasley siblings (plus Harry and Hermione, of course) were laughing their heads off in the lounge of the Burrow this particular Saturday afternoon.

George, never hesitating to get a rise out of his twin, had cracked a little joke about Fred's looks. Unsurprisingly, he had retorted with the fact that the two were, in fact, identical. From there on, the conversation got a little bit confusing for the onlookers. Remarks, cracks, statements and jokes were exchanged between the two of them and before long anybody that wasn't the twins were somewhat muddled.

Nonetheless, they all laughed when Fred's cheeks blushed the famous Weasley red and he launched his body at his brother, both them falling to the ground with a thud.

"Don't be stupid," Charlie said after a while, his laughter fading with the minutes. "Oi!" he said, louder this time. "Fred, for Merlin sake, get off him!"

The twin that seemed to be winning at this point then raised his head with a cocky grin on his face. "It's George, actually."

The eldest Weasley there, Bill, groaned, rubbing his temples. There had been very few times in the past in which he had resorted to pulling the two apart as they did seem to work out that neither of them would win and that rolling around on the floor (not actually wanting to hurt each other) wouldn't actually get them anywhere.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One... One... One..

"George?" Bill yelled, his patience thinning. "Fred! Honestly! Get -"

"One minute!" the two called back, their voices muffled against each other and the carpet. They were true to their word and within moments the two had shot up, their lanky arms wrapped around the other's shoulder in a nonchalant manner.

"Sorry about that, ladies," George said with a grin and a wink. With a sideways glance at his brother he added, "Bit of a disagreement, you see."

"Really?" Bill said dryly. "We couldn't have guessed."

George opened his mouth to make a scathing remark when Fred shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. "No worries, brother. We're all sorted, so long as my lovely twin keeps his mouth shut, am I right, George?"

He shrugged in reply. "You brought it up."

"But you continued the conversation."

"There shouldn't have been anything to continue."

"You could've just dropped it!"

"Why would you start talking about something if you didn't want the conversation continued?"

"You know damn well why!"

Hermione, rather sick of the two arguing over her and having already had a headache from listening to Harry and Ron arguing earlier that morning, spoke up for all the onlookers.

"Shut up!" Ignoring the shocked looks she was getting from those around her, she added, "And watch your language, Fred."

And with one stern hand on her hip, she stalked out of the room, looking thoroughly annoyed. The others stared after her and Ginny sighed heavily, glaring at her brothers. The twins gave an apologetic smile, but Ginny's anger was not to be lessened by this and she shook her head in disbelief.

There was moment of silence before she spoke. And when she did, her voice was tight and forced. "You have got to stop doing that. Both of you! It's as if you go out of your way to annoy her. You know she hates it when you lot argue."

Fred and George looked at each other, a brief look of guilt crossing their faces. They turned to their little sister, ready to apologize, but she raised her hands, not willing to listen. She gave them both a pointed look, and then said, "I would've thought the war taught you to be a bit more sensitive."

"We didn't say anything offensive!" Fred protested, George nodding frantically beside him. "Did we? No. No, we didn't."

Harry, who had been sitting quietly until this point waited until Ginny had left before muttering, "Don't worry about it. She's been a bad mood all morning."

"Ginny or Hermione?"

He gave a shameless laugh, replying with a simple, "Both."

"What were you two going on about, anyway?" Ron piped up, backed up with a curious mhmm sound made by Bill.

Fred gave a dismissive wave of his hand while George laughed heartily. "Just a little bet, that's all."

"Well?" Ron demanded after a moment of silence. "Are you going to let us in on it or not?"

Fred made frantic motions with his hands, trying to cut his twin off. George, however, would have none of this and ignored him by saying, "I reckon that Fred couldn't get a girl - onespecificgirl."

The eldest Weasley's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"The girl," George said with a grin. "You know, the one he's been wanking about for the past, oh, I don't know, few years or so?"

Despite George's happy demeanor, Ron looked less than amused. "And since when has Fred not been able to get the girl?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing with each word.

"Oh, there's a girl alright and let me tell you, she's completely immune to his usual ways."

"George," Fred said warningly. "Not now."

His twin, however, wasn't even close to worried by his twin's threatening tone and smirked. With a small laugh he said, "Oh, what, Fred? Not going to share with the boys about her, then? Not going to tell them how the Hermione Granger is going to fall for your non-existent charms?"

"Non-existent my ar-"

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry exclaimed furiously, effectively cutting off Fred's claims. "Hermione Granger! As in, our Hermione Granger?"

Bill cocked his head to the side. "I wasn't aware that Hermione belonged to you two."

"Well, she doesn't," Harry said quickly, blushing slightly. "But the point is," he paused, looking directly at the two twins, "you can't make a bet about Hermione." The smaller boy got to his feet, waving his wand threateningly in the air, prodding whichever twin was closest to him in the chest repeatedly. "I'll kill you if you hurt her, you know that, right?"

"We would too, you know," Charlie added, gesturing between Bill and himself.

George grinned. "No need to worry. Fred hasn't got the balls to do anything anyway. Do you want to know how long he's been pining after her? Since bloody -"

"George!" Fred yelped, pouncing on his twin and clamping his hand firmly over his brother's mouth. With a sheepful smile in Ron's direction, he said, "It was nothing personal, mate. I know you fancied her and -"

"Nothing personal!" George exclaimed, pulling away with a snort. He turned to his little brother and said, "You should've heard the things he said! Would've turned ol' McGonagall's cheeks pink, that's for sure!"

By now, Fred's own face was far from pink and instead was a rather violent shade of red. Dragging his darling twin by the ear, he stormed into the kitchen.

"Ouch. Ouch. Ouch! Damn it, Fred!" George rubbed his ear and winced. "What was that for? No harm done. Ron's been over her for years now - wasn't like he was gonna hex you or something."

"I thought we had an agreement."

"What?"

"You know!" Fred exclaimed, frantically waving his arms about in the air. "The one when you said you'd keep your mouth shut about her so long as I kept mine shut about a certain blonde girl you met at the pub when Katie was away with Quidditch that one night..." he trailed off, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Right, right," George agreed hastily. "My mouth is forever silent."

He frowned. "It's too late for that now, you prick. Just make sure Hermione doesn't find out, will you?"

"As if I'd sell you out," his brother scoffed in reply. With a cheeky grin he added, "You know Ron's going to be furious when it finally hits him, yeah?"

"Yeah. Cheers for the reminder, mate."

It was about an hour later when Ron came to the sudden conclusion that Fred deserved to be pummeled into dust. And so as the family sat around the dinner table chirping happily, Ron glared at his older brother, his fist clenched tightly around his fork as he shoveled carrots into his mouth. This didn't go unnoticed and Fred sat uneasily, nudging George in the ribs and pleading silently that Ron hadn't actually grown a brain (or muscles) since beginning to train as an Auror.

Unfortunately for Ron, Hermione noticed too. With an annoyed sigh, she said, "Ron, could you please stop trying to kill your brother with your eyes? I must admit, it's not a very attractive look. Besides, if you keep squinting like that you'll get wrinkles."

"And then what would Lavender want with you?" Ginny said snippily, obviously unimpressed by the Ron's choice to get back with that horrid girl after the war.

This only served to make him more annoyed though and his face turned red. He opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Ginny.

"Really, Ron!" she groaned.

"Nah, Gin," Fred interrupted quickly. "Didn't even notice he was lookin' at me."

If this kept up, there was no way that Ron would keep his mouth shut. And if Hermione knew (and almost certainly shoot him down) he wasn't sure what exactly he'd do with himself. The shop, of course, would still be his number one priority. But even that might seem a little bit bleak if Hermione stopped dropping by the make sure the two business-men were eating lunch. Besides, having his little brother yelling like a girl wasn't exactly how'd he'd planned his confession.

"Apparently you're not as observant as you used to be," Hermione said. "Even a bludger would've noticed that glare."

"Quidditch reference?" Fred raised an eyebrow, still desperate to change the subject.

"Read the book."

Harry gave a strained smile. "She borrowed 'Quidditch Through The Ages' from me last summer."

At that moment, Fred could've kissed the boy. If there was anything that got Hermione moving, it was books. And Harry had successfully managed to wire her brain into a completely different subject in the matter of less than ten seconds.

The meal, despite a few grunts of annoyance from Ron and chuckles of delight from George, passed relatively smoothly after that. Ginny disappeared upstairs and Harry followed her - his attempts to go unnoticed failing completely as Ron yelled out and followed them upstairs "just incase".

Hermione hurriedly cleared the table, anxious to help Molly - anything to keep her precious headache away from those dreaded twins. Usually, their jokes didn't bother her too much and although she'd never willingly admit it out-loud, most of their pranks were amusing.

"Cheers," George said gratefully, handing her his plate and pushing away from the table, dragging Fred with him. After pulling him up the stairs, he gave him a curious look. "You know, mate, you've never been like this about a girl before."

"Like how?"

"Completely useless." Before Fred had the chance to protest, George hurriedly continued, "When you fancied Angelina, you yelled at her halfway across the room and asked her to the ball. You can't even look Granger in the eye - not without annoying her, that is."

"That was different."

"Enlighten me."

Fred contemplated what he was going to say for a few moments and then said, "I knew Angelina wouldn't say no."

"Granger won't. Not if you pull your head out of your arse, actually manage to look her in the eye without drooling and maybe even start a conversation or two. You know, the sort of conversation that you have when you actually talk to the girl you fancy? Not just ogling at her from behind a counter? Actual words?"

George grinned, dodging the light punch that Fred had sent to his shoulder.

"Course she'll say no, mate. Even you said it – can't even look at her without pissing her off," Fred said with a flippant shrug. He rolled his eyes as George's grin slipped and added, "Don't give me that look, you git. Unlike some, I don't mope if some girl says no. In fact, Angie has been asking me to write her back for quite some time…"

"And what of the bet, brother dearest?"

The words stopped Fred in his movements. He stiffened visibly, his fists clenching. No. He couldn't lose a bet. He'd never lost a bet before and he didn't plan on losing one now - least not one as easy as roping in a girl.

"The bet," he started slowly, "must go on."

"We've never cancelled a bet before," George agreed.

"Never."

"And so..."

"The bet goes on," Fred said, finality lacing his every word.

The two smirked at each other, although George didn't fail to notice the uncertainty in Fred's eyes. He shrugged it off though. Even Fred wouldn't be stupid enough to let a not-so fickle bet get in the way of the girl he fancied. And if he did... well, he obviously didn't fancy the girl all that much.

What George didn't expect, however, was how hard, exactly, Fred was going to try to win the bet. And from the looks of it, he wanted to win the bet fast. George rubbed his eyes, tiredly peering at his twin in the early hours of the morning.

George cocked his head to the side before daring to ask, "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're playing around with mistletoe." He threw the covers off of him and then stood up, watching Fred as he worked ferociously at the green leaf. "But it's not even near Christmas, so that's ridiculous."

"Do tell, George, how would you go about wooing Miss Granger?"

"My dashing good looks and irresistible charm, of course."

"George."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Granger's not my type, mate. But even I know she's not going to snog you under a mistletoe. Maybe if it were closer to Christmas, though."

"I reckon it's got more of a chance than one of our Love Potions." Fred paused, then added as an afterthought, "Or at least, she won't hurt me so badly afterwards if I use mistletoe... I don't think so, anyway."

"You'd stand a better chance if you dropped the bet. And I don't know..." George drawled, raising his eyebrow and tapping his chin in mock thought. "You could, perhaps, confess to her that you're an idiot and just happen to know what her every move has been for the last couple of years? And you just happen to know her daily schedule? And that you've pretty much been stalking her, but I suppose if you tell her those other two things, she might guess that much."

"It's not that easy, George."

"Feel free to drop the bet at any time, brother."

Fred shook his head, but Vanished the offending mistletoe anyway. He stood, muttering something about breakfast, before quickly leaving the room. He would have been lying to say that part of the reason he had chosen to stay the Burrow instead of the flat this particular night had nothing to do with the fact that Hermione happened to be staying too. Unfortunately, he hadn't caught her the night before, but apparently someone up there was looking out for him, for he was greeted by the welcome sight of Hermione seated, alone for once, at the dining room table.

She barely acknowledged his presence though and he was forced to clear his throat, inwardly grinning as she jumped.

"Problem, Granger?"

Hermione turned to face him, but instead of giving a snarky reply like he had expected, she merely rolled her eyes and turned back to her bowl of cereal.

"Granger?"

"What were you and George fighting about yesterday?"

For once, Fred was glad that she had her back to him, because although he think he hid his shock rather well, he was sure that she would've caught his unease. So, as he always did when things got uncomfortable, he fell back on a joke: "You really do have to know everything, don't you?"

Her fingers clenched around the silver spoon for a moment before she let it fall with a clatter. Pursing her lips, she pushed her chair out and stalked into kitchen, ignoring Fred as he followed closely behind.

"Why do you want to know?" he persisted.

"I already do know," Hermione replied through clenched teeth. "Harry told me you two had a bet." She hadn't noticed him pale and continued without wavering, "I was just curious as to what the bet was about."

This, he realised, would be the golden opportunity to confess everything. But, being the idiot that he was, he simply nodded and said, "Just a silly bet, Granger. Don't get your knickers in a twist about it."

"My knickers in a twist? I didn't say anything!" she exclaimed incredulously, almost dropping the plate that she had been so carefully cleaning - the Muggle way, of course. "I didn't say a word!"

"So why were you so upset yesterday, eh?"

She picked up her plate, a cloth in her other hand as she dried it - her hand moving in circular motions as she contemplated Fred's question in both surprise and amusement. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she shrugged.

"Is there ever a moment when I'm not breaking up two boys from fighting?"

"George and I aren't like Harry and Ron," Fred said.

He could've bitten his tongue in half for being so idiotic, assuming the comment had reminding her of her months in the tent. Harry had long before told the family what had happened when the Trio were on the run. Ron was still a little bit sketchy - due to embarrassment, Fred reckoned - but even so, Ron had opened up after a few well-intended pranks and faked tears on Ginny's part. If Hermione had spoken to anybody, Fred hadn't heard of it.

She had flinched at his words and was now peering at him curiously. "Why are you so nervous, all of sudden?" she asked, nodding at his shaking hands. "It's okay, you know? They didn't fight often during the war."

Of course they didn't, that why my brother abandoned you, right?

"So tell me about the bet," Hermione continued, changing the subject far too quickly for Fred's liking. At his skeptical glance, she added, "Don't worry, I'm not going to try talk you out of it. I could probably help, you know. Being the smartest witch of my generation and all."

"Not with this one, Granger. Maybe next time though, yeah?"

Fred wasn't ashamed to admit that he had scurried away quickly after that. Although he was usually quite good with his mouth (in more ways than one too) he didn't quite trust his tongue to not run away on him when that damned girl was being so convincing and vindictive.

For the rest of the day, Fred managed to hide. Again, shamelessly. He was not below scurrying into a nearby broom cupboard should a certain person come down the corridor. And he definitely didn't mind going over to his flat to get away for a few moments - despite his mother telling him very firmly that he was to stay for lunch due to the fact that she was quite sure that the twins would starve if she didn't feed them. Truth be told, she probably wasn't far off from the truth.

He was stealthy. He didn't make it obvious that he was avoiding Miss Granger. Instead, he simply stood and left the room whenever she entered and ignored her if she chose to speak to him. Subtle.

He sat in the living room with Charlie - both recovering from laughing at Bill who had disappeared just moments ago after a rather loud and very French telling off from his lovely Veela wife, Fleur.

"Ah, mate," Charlie choked out, his mirth subsiding. "Really, I better get back to the dragons, eh? I'll see you later. And get that prank ready for me, you got that? I expect something bloody fantastic when I get back."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I reckon ol' Percy's in for the fright of his life," Fred replied reassuringly.

And with that, his brother disappeared into the fireplace and left him by himself on the couch. He wasn't by himself for long though. Unbeknownst to him, Hermione had plopped herself beside him as he was saying goodbye. She placed her hand on his, shrugging.

"I know you've been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you? Never!"

Her smile turned into a smirk, much to his surprise. Even more to his surprise, she said in a flippant tone, "Oh? So then you won't mind that you're stuck here with me for a while, will you?"

His grip on the arm of the couch tightened. "Depends what you mean by 'stuck'."

Hermione's gaze flickered upwards and his soon followed. There was silence. She bit her lip. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe George... George! Oh, but he'd never do something so cruel and heartless, would he? Not to Fred, surely!

"George told me about your bet..." she muttered. She smiled as Fred's face flooded with fear. "It's okay. I mean, it's only a kiss, right? No strings attached."

She reached up into the air and plucked the mistletoe that she had charmed there moments earlier down.

"I'm only doing this because, well, because I couldn't think of a way for George to win the bet," she admitted. "And I did say I would help you. Well, I said I'd help you first. I don't think George will mind that much." She laughed nervously. "I can't believe I'm rambling."

Neither could he. In fact, he was finding it difficult to believe any of what had just happened to him in the past few minutes. And just as her lips were nearing his, he threw his hands up in surrender, leaning backwards into the couch.

"Woah! Woah!" He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he pushed her away from him as quickly as he could. "As he jinxed you? Hexed you? Merlin, I will kill George for doing this to me. And for doing this to you, of course. That absolute wank-"

"You mean this wasn't the bet?" Hermione interrupted. "You weren't dared to kiss me?"

"Of course I was! Bu-but this," Fred paused to gesture wildly about the two, "is not what was meant to happen."

"You think I was going to kiss you for you? Don't be an idiot, Fred. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want be subject to one of your love potions? Or mistletoe, perhaps? Honestly, I want this over and done with just as much as you do."

"He told you about that mistletoe then, did he?" Fred asked weakly.

She raised an eyebrow, twirling her own piece of mistletoe in front of him. "Where do you think I got the idea?"

Fred shook his head, standing. "I will win the bet, Granger. But not today."

Within a few moments, she was on her feet as well, her hands planted on his shoulders and her mouth pressed against his. Her eyes were squeezed together tightly and when she came to the sudden realisation that he wasn't - and probably never would be - responding, she pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. During his shocked silence, she stared at her feet, seemingly very intrigued by non-existent patterns on the carpet.

"It's alright, Fred," she said quietly. For a second, he wondered whether she'd spoken at all, but his thoughts were confirmed when she continued, "No strings attached, remember?" She fiddled with her fingers when he didn't reply. "Also, could you tell your mother I'm sorry, but I won't be here for lunch? I've got to head out, you see."

"You don't have to leave on my account. No strings attached. This doesn't change anything, right?"

"Right, but no, that's not it. I've promised to meet up with Dean." Her eyes strayed to the Muggle watch that she'd grown attached to wrapping around her wrist each morning and she let out an annoyed groan. "And I'm going to be late. This is your fault, Fred. If only you'd shut up and snogged me sooner, eh?"

With that, she turned on the spot, leaving Fred gaping after her. His eyes scrunched up in confusion and he sniffed the air curiously. Finally, he gave a loud sigh, running his fingers through his mop of hair.

"I know you're there, George," he called. "Come on. I won't kill you. Not yet, anyway," he muttered the latter under his breath.

George wasted no more time and bounded up to his twin happily, clapping him on the back. "Guess you did win, then. Bloody hell though! She said she'd help me win. I didn't expect that, that's for sure."

"Yeah, can't say I'm pleased with how it went either."

George shrugged dismissively. "Look at this way. At least if you ever get around to snogging her again - which I'm sure you don't have the balls to do anyway - she won't think you're doing it for a bet. She might... oh, I don't know, actually think that you fancy her. Which you do. Don't even try to deny that. Pity she's going out with that Thomas fellow though..."

"Thomas? Dean Thomas?" Fred repeated. "She said she was meeting him - not dating him. He works with her, doesn't he? In the same department too, if I recall rightly."

"You can never be too sure."

"She wouldn't go out with that tosser."

"And I didn't think she'd actually kiss you, but apparently your Granger is full of surprises," George pointed out, much to Fred's dismay. He watched as his brother's face twisted and eyes struggled to find the right emotion. Deciding to make up his mind for him, George prompted, "So, you feel like a prank right about now, mate?"

Fred's only reply was to grunt, "What products haven't we tested yet?"

George grinned wickedly, tossing a small bag to Fred. "You go find the lovebirds and set up. I'll tell Mum that we'll be a tad late. Send a patronus when you've found them, got it?"

As expected, Fred disapparated almost immediately in front of him. And so, George scrawled a note to leave to the table and then disapparated himself. Fred had been lucky and had apparated to the sight of bubbling Diagon Alley. George, having known exactly where he was going, was greeted with a fuming Hermione Granger.

"You lied to me," she seethed, her wand prodding at his chest. "He hates me. Honestly, I've never felt so mortified in my life!"

"Now, now, Granger, no need to get feisty..."

"George!"

As he had done with Fred earlier, George shrugged off her anger. "I fail to see the problem. He fancies you and shut up, he does. And now, you'll have proof because when he does snog you senseless, you'll know it wasn't just 'cause of some stupid bet."

"He thinks I'm on a date with Dean. Dean! Honestly, George! Why did you even put that idea in his head?"

"He would've thought of that by himself anyway."

Hermione gaped at him before smacking him upside his head soundly. "That's not my point, George. Merlin, you're an idiot sometimes. And I really do have to meet up with Dean now." She looked pained as she said, "I'm leaving this up to you."

Her lack of confidence in him amused him greatly, but he kept his face straight, well aware that she'd hex him six ways from Sundays if he dared to chuckle - even quietly as he was longing to do.

It wasn't long after she left that he received a patronus from Fred, informing him that Hermione and 'that git' had been sighted at the Leaky Cauldron. The bag George had given him was, of course, empty. And George didn't fancy leaving Fred to find that out for himself. It was inevitable though, as he was sure that Fred would be extremely eager to set out some brilliant prank out.

Sure enough, the very moment he set foot in the Leaky Cauldron, he was pulled aside by his twin and shoved violently against a wall.

"George! I could've been ready ages ago. Tell me you brought an actual prank," Fred said with a groan, releasing George's shirt and instead running his fingers through his hair. "You did bring something, right?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could be rational about this one."

"Rational..."

George nodded. "Yeah. Rational. Look mate, I don't think she fancies Dean. He's a complete idiot."

Fred continued to look unimpressed. "You handed me an empty bag, telling me there was an amazing prank in there, because you wanted to be rational?"

"Oi! It wasn't empty. I had to put something in there to make it heavy."

"It wasn't what we agreed on, George."

"No, not quite," George said happily. "But remember how we talking about that thing when you actually talked to the girl and how winning a girl's heart isn't done best by pulling on a prank on her just-a-friend?"

Fred looked at his twin incredulously. "You were the bastard that told me they were dating!"

"No, no. I said they were going out. Never said anything about snogging or shagging whatsoever."

"Snogging? You don't think she'd really snog him, do you?" Fred asked, suddenly looking a bit green.

This time, George didn't hesitate to smack his twin up the back of his head. "No, you git! But," he grinned, "she'd snog you, apparently."

They must have been talking louder than George had thought, for a certain witch soon appeared in front of them, her hands on her hips and eyes narrowed dangerously. Even more frightening, however, was the angry looking bloke with his hands on her shoulders glaring daggers at the two.

"Fancy seeing you here with Thomas!" Fred said cheerfully, ruffling the annoyed woman's hair. "Good seeing you, Granger."

"Fred, I told you I would b-"

"Mind if we pull up a seat, then? Nothing like catching up with old pals, eh, Thomas?"

"Uh, actually -"

"Brilliant!"

"Fred..." Hermione muttered under her breath, knowing full well that he could hear her. "What are you doing?"

He smirked down at her. "Just making sure your new boyfriend treats you right. Gotta keep an eye on you, m'dear. Imagine what Ronniekins would say if we let you go out with some git." Lowering his voice, he added, "It's okay. George and I never really liked the bloke anyway - always pranked him at school."

"Fred!" she yelled, no longer worried about being polite or disturbing the rest of the bar. "And George! Merlin, you two! We're discussing work. Work! For the Ministry! Leave." George opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly cut him off: "Leave!"

"Just -"

"I'll come to the Burrow later. Just go." Not waiting for a reply, she turned to Dean. "Sorry about that. Let's get these papers signed."

- x -

"I'm sorry about what happened."

Hermione shuddered, recovering from apparating before looking at Fred incredulously and collapsing into the couch that just hours ago she'd kissed him in.

"What for? Trying to ruin what you thought was a date?"

"Well, yeah."

She sighed. "Just don't do it again. Honestly, interrupting my work, Fred!"

"Yeah..." Fred shrugged, shoving his hands deep inside his trouser pockets. "The thing is George and I have a bet. He reckons I don't have enough balls to ask out a girl I fancy."

"Oh." Hermione smiled up at him. "Funny. He made a bet with me too. Said he'd be able to convince the person I fancy to ask him out before dinner."

He grinned back at her. "Did he really? Shouldn't you be out seducing him then?"

"Maybe. But I reckon I like my chances as it is. Snogged him this morning, you see."

Hermione stood and blushing, she touched his arm gently. "I've got some papers to finish." She prepared herself for apparation, but paused for a moment. "Hey Fred? I hope you win your bet."

"Thank you. Unfortunately for you though, I'm pretty sure George'll win yours."

"For some reason, I don't think I'll mind paying up for this bet."

"And Granger? You are joining me and my... lovely brothers for dinner tonight, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. I always do on Saturdays."

He nodded. "I know. I just reckon you should come early this time."

"Do you now?" Hermione replied, pretending to think about the suggestion. "You know what? I reckon that could be arranged."

"Good."

"In that case, I'll be off to finish those papers. I'll see you later."

She'd disappeared in the thin air by the time he'd muttered something in return. And she was long gone before George popped his head out around the corner, his hand outstretched to his brother - twenty galleons in his palm.