Author's Note: Another Grimmauld Fairy Tale for everyone! Please enjoy!

Cookies to those who know which Grimm story this is from! If you want to know but can't figure it out, feel free to ask me in a review and I'll let you know!

Those of you not familiar with my Grimmauld Fairy Tale series just need to know that I'm taking various fairy tales and wizardizing them, turning them into Hermione-centric stories. She's being paired with the men of Harry Potter, so feel free to tell me your favorite pairings that you'd love to see next! These are all stand alone stories, so don't worry about order. They're all in my profile if you wish to read the others I've currently posted, "Howl" and "The Riddle."

Enjoy and please leave a review, letting me know what you thought!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own plot.

"Enough! It's late and you've all got a train to catch in the morning!" Hermione shouted up the stairs, grinning as her children quieted momentarily. "Get washed up and get to your beds! I'll be up in fifteen minutes!"

She waited at the bottom of the stairs, listening intently for any signs of mutiny, but only heard the usual grumbles of the three girls trouping into the bathroom and fighting over the sink. When that was assured, she let out a breath she'd been holding and cleaned up the mess of tea cups left by her guests who had left moments before. When she walked into her oldest's room, she saw the girl was stubbornly sitting in bed, surrounded by books and parchment. Penny always knew how to do what was told, but twist it so that she wasn't doing it quite the way expected.

"Penelope, please get your homework off the bed. You'll regret it in the morning if you stay up all night." Hermione tidied up the room, spotting last minute items that belonged in her daughter's trunk and tucking them inside neatly. This included the books and parchment.

Penelope just set her jaw and stared at her mother belligerently. "No I won't, because I'm not going back to Hogwarts." She adopted the same tone her mother got when dealing with her uncles Harry and Ron over grownup stuff.

Her mother let out a laugh. "Oh? Then I suppose I'll be sending you off to live with my muggle cousins then, because if you don't go to school, you can't do magic."

Penny's eyes got round. "But...I HATE Jessica and Bruno! They're bullies and take the sweets you send with me!" She tugged at her curly read hair in horror.

"Then tuck in because you're going to school."

Hermione waited silently as her daughter took her time getting under the covers, the twelve year old pouting the entire time. When she was finally in a comfortable spot, she sat down on the side of the bed and looked the small girl in her matching brown eyes.

"Tell me why you don't want to go back, really?"

She knew exactly how to reach her daughter, with sweet phrasing and open ended questions. Demands and orders would get her nowhere. Was definitely a Weasley trait, having to be tricked subtly.

"It feels weird," Penny finally muttered. "Being in Slytherin."

Hermione tried to hide the surprised look on her face. "Are they cruel to you in the dormitories?"

"No, not really. The girls are nice enough. And Al there. It's just all the stuff Uncle Ron was saying before we went to Hogwarts and stuff. I know dad acted like a bludger hit him in the head when he saw the green in my robes at Christmas..."

"Sweetie, your dad wasn't upset or angry, so get that idea out of your head. It certainly was a surprise, despite your letters. There's never been a Weasley in Slytherin before. And your Uncle can be a git of the highest order, at times." Hermione took the girl's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We grew up in different times with prejudices. They're still around, a bit. But it's so much better now. Not everyone who comes out of Slytherin is evil. Just like not everyone out of Gryffindor is pure of heart. There's a little bit of every characteristic in everyone, good and bad. The Sorting Hat put you in a house that it thought suited your personality best, a place where you could become who you were meant to be."

Penny picked at a loose thread in her comforter. "I still wish I'd been able to continue the family legacy."

Hermione shook her head. "Legacy? This is a time to start new traditions! You and Albus and James and Victoire and the others, you're building foundations to inner-house unity. It's well and fine to have the whole family experience the red and gold of Gryffindor, but having a family of strong individuals who have many strengths is more important."

"You weren't lying last year when you told me about your Sorting, were you?"

"Of course not!" Her mother sniffed. "The Sorting Hat said I'd do well in all the houses. Even Slytherin. But it said it wasn't the right time to put me there, that Gryffindor was the place for me."

"I do like the lake being outside my dorm room. It's very soothing." Penny smiled small, her worries obviously abated for now.

Hermione bent over and kissed her on the forehead, smiled, and whispered 'Nox' on the lights. Shutting the door behind her, she let out a large breath and narrowed her eyes.

"I'm going to have to have another talk with Ron..."

Across the hall, her youngest girls were waiting patiently, both in the same bed. These were her good girls. When it suited them. She knew about their nickname from the other kids, The Nefarious Bumkissers. Their first year of Hogwarts was starting tomorrow and she felt like she may have another set of Slytherins to give McGonagall and the newest Head of Slytherin House, Professor Draco Malfoy.

"Ladies. Ready for your story then? Where's your book?" Hermione perched on the side of the bed the twins shared. The two, Effie and Fiona, shared a look and smiled.

"We want a different story." Fiona.

"Can we hear about you and daddy?" Effie.

Hermione frowned. "What do you want to know?"

"We know you were friends with him first, but we want to hear your love story!" Fiona grinned big.

"Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny said you were cursed."

Contemplating a moment, while Hermione helped them get under the covers, she decided to tell them. They would find out from the other relatives soon enough and the least she could do what give them the truth and not some crazy story involving kidnaping or some sort from Fred.

"It's a long story, so I can't tell you everything! I don't want you knackered for the train ride," she warned.

"Let's see, about two years after the war ended and the cleanup was about finished..."

As Hermione talked, she herself got involved with the memories.

x/\x

Hermione stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, having an argument with the last person she'd wanted to see at the moment, Draco Malfoy. They'd been getting along well enough the last year working together in the Ministry, their departments working together to round up the last of suspicious individuals and the rebuild of the popular shopping district. She wasn't exactly having the best day, and arguing over how to present their shared project to the Magical Law Enforcement Department was making it worse.

"Not now, Draco. It's not ready!"

"When is a good time, Hermione? Because we've been sitting on it six weeks and they're getting restless! We don't want them to lose interest, they're worrying about other things and won't give the Magical Creatures Department a second thought for months if we don't do it now!"

Behind her, Hermione could hear people gathering, whispering at the spectacle they were making. Out of the corner of her eye, at the outrageous storefront of the Weasley twins, she could see one of them poke their upper half out of the door, curious as the rest of Diagon. Her cheeks flamed.

"Let's discuss this on Monday, maybe we can have it ready by next week?" She tried lowering her voice, hoping to calm the blond wizard down some. She hadn't realized he had a tempter to match her own.

"If Draco says it's ready, then take his word for it! He's better at this than you, you bushy-haired bitch!" Pansy, who'd accompanied Draco into the Alley, lost her temper behind him, stomping her foot and brandishing her wand.

"Pans, NO!"

"Hermione!"

"Watch out!"

Not expecting it to turn into a duel, Hermione hadn't had her want at the ready and was unprepared for the curse sent her way from the angry witch. A beam of icy blue light shot at her, knocking her to the ground.

When she woke up, Hermione's eyelids felt like lead and she could see the fuzzy outlines of Draco and George Weasley standing over her. Draco's eyes were wide, frightened, his mouth turned down in worry. Similarly, George closed his eyes when he saw her move, and sighed in relief.

"Thank Merlin, Hermione. You gave us a fright!" He reached a hand out to pat her on the head. "Want a hand up?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Draco said steadily. "We're not totally sure what Pansy hit her with."

"It was definitely a curse," Hermione croaked. "That's what my aching backside is telling me, anyhow." George laughed, despite Draco's deepening frown.

"I think that was a death curse gone wrong. It might be a good idea to get to St. Mungo's. I can take Pansy to the Ministry and find Potter to turn her in." Draco stood, brushing the dirt of the street from his robes.

George followed suit and put a hand out to help Hermione up. When he tugged her up, she wobbled on her feet, needing him to steady her. "My head feels all fuzzy and light. St. Mungo's might not be a bad idea." She looked around, hoping to hide her shame of being caught off guard from the crowd that had surrounded them, but found said crowd to be gone, shoppers on their merry way with their errands. She looked sideways to George.

"Notice-Me-Not charm," he said simply. They both turned to Draco, who was levitating a Stunned Pansy. "Let us know if you figure out what the spell is. Just in case Mungo's can't figure it out, yeah?" Draco nodded and Disapperated.

"Let's Floo? I don't think I can handle Disapperation and not splinch myself," Hermione said softly. She tried taking a deep breath but stopped, skin turning a bit green. George nodded, surprising her by picking her up in both arms and hurrying into the shop he shared with Fred.

"Oy, Fred! Going to St. Mungo's!" Fred poked his head from the workroom, worry painted on his face.

"What happened?!"

"Parkinson," he grunted, throwing a handful of Floo powder in and stepping into the flames with Hermione nestled against him.

x/\x

The Healer cast a diagnostic charm once more and read the results emitted by their wand. They frowned, frustrated at what they were reading.

"Well?" George demanded, arms crossed. Next to him, Hermione had a dreamy look on her face, not unlike the ones he saw when people used their Patented Daydream Charms. When he cast a glance at her, he had to double-take. She was levitating off the exam table by about four or five inches. "And THIS isn't normal!" He pointed at the floating witch angrily.

Giving him a stern glare, the Healer tucked his wand in his robes and jotted a few notes down. "Miss Granger seems to have suffered a backfired curse. There is no curse to make people like this, specifically. There is one that does the opposite, however. Gravis Gravitatis is an old curse meant to make the gravity of one so heavy and oppressive that the cursed dies under the weight of their own existence. A slow and painful curse, I've heard.

"However, this, as I said, seems to be the polar opposite. Miss Granger is daydreaming heavily, floating as if she has very little if any gravity around her. She's essentially become a person light of head, heart and body. I can't say for sure the implications of this backfire. It may wear off, it may be permanent, it could alter her very personality. There was no counter-curse for the original Gravis Gravitatis, and I don't imagine Miss Parkinson even knows what she did wrong in the curse in order to help reverse it. The only thing I can suggest is regular check ups with us here so we can monitor any potential changes."

As the Healer explained, Hermione had floated up several more inches and seemed to snap out of her daydream. "GEORGE! Help!"

George diverted his attention from the professional to the witch, grabbing her ankle and giving a gentle tug. She stopped moving upward, but didn't come down, either. She gave him a panicked look. He tugged a bit harder with one hand and reached up for one of her own, grasping it tightly when she slipped her fingers with his. Between her pulling and his tugging, they managed to get her back to an appropriate level from the table, two or three inches. She clung to his arm tightly.

"You better damn well believe I'll be coming around frequently! I want this fixed! I can't do my job if I'm floating in the air, in the way of muggle airplanes and the birds!"

Despite his own anger on her behalf, George couldn't help but to laugh. Now that would be a sight. Hermione Granger, hates heights and flying, but trying to do her legislative paperwork floating at the height of the muggle parliament building. She shot him a dirty look.

"Don't laugh. You need to get me home and find me Draco! This is his fault for dragging that crazy woman with him to our meeting!" When he protested, mentioning the shop and Fred, he wilted under her glare. "Damn your shop! Your brother is a grown man and can do without you for another hour or so. Don't make me Floo Molly!"

The Healer his his smile behind his paperwork. "Come in next Wednesday, Miss Granger. Feel free to bring your boyfriend here along and we'll hopefully have some updates for you."

"We're not dating!" they sounded in union, Hermione looked ready to bite someone's head off and George looked nervous, turning their looks from each other to the poor Healer.

"Anyway," the Healer drawled, rolling his eyes. "Turn these papers in to the Mediwitch at the desk and check out. Make your appointment there, I'll see you next week, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley," he nodded goodbye and left the room.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and loosened her grip on Georges arm but a moment and immediately started floating upward. He had to give a quick tug to get her back down.

"Sorry, George." She looked down at the floor, brow furrowed in frustration.

"S'no problem, Hermione. Let's get you an appointment made and I can help you home, yeah?" She nodded, the faraway look slowly creeping back into her eyes. "Stay with me, Granger! Don't make me slap you!"

Hermione sent him a dirty glare. "I'm here, it's hard, but I've just got this up-in-the-clouds fluff in my head."

George nodded. "I'm going to have to hold you again, don't want you floating too high for me to reach you. Is that okay?" Hermione nodded silently and he took her up in his arms, bridal style, so that he could have a firm grip on the whole of her body. Even her weight seemed like nothing with this botched curse, lighter than a single bag of Ton-Tongue Toffee. They made the appointment with the Mediwitch and left through the Floo again, tumbling out of the fireplace at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes just as Fred closed the shop up for the day.

Fred turned and jumped, shocked at the unexpected arrival. "Blimey! Give a bloke some warning, you two!" He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his brother, who was holding Hermione tight. "Did I miss something?"

The dreamy look was back in Hermione's eyes, but she seemed more lucid than the first time. "I was hit with a shoddy curse. I'm light as a feather now!" She giggled, but sobered quickly. "I float. Help me up?"

Fred held a hand out to her and she reached up, gripping his hand and wrist tightly. The second George let go of her, she lost her gravity and levitated above the floor, Fred the only thing keeping her from going up to the ceiling. Panicked, Fred gripped her arms and tugged her sharply down. Hermione latched onto him and hugged him close. Looking over to his twin for an answer, Fred raised a brow silently.

"Parkinson lost her temper when she and Malfoy were arguing. Hit her with a curse, but didn't do it proper. We know the curse, but we don't know what she did wrong. Seeing as the bint didn't bother doing the spell correctly, she probably won't know what she did wrong either." George stood and brushed dust and ash from his clothes. "Meanwhile, this means Hermione's stuck like this."

"What the hell was the curse?" Hermione's face was pressed against his chest and she sniffed, as if holding back tears. His eyes widened down at her and Fred looked at George in panic. His twin could see he was ready to jump out of his skin with a crying girl in his arms and offered to take her from him.

"Gravis Gravitatis."

"Never heard of it."

"Old curse. Supposed to crush you with gravity." George made sure Hermione was settled in his arms, her own wrapped around his waist. He hugged her close in comfort. "Instead, Parkinson must have messed up the wand work or some such and it did the opposite. Now Hermione's all floaty and seems to be taking on the traits of our favorite Lovegood with her carefree attitude."

Fred winced. Then, tentatively, he asked, "You plan on shacking up with us, love? How do you plan on doing anything while the Healers try to fix this?"

The three of them were silent. Fred curious, George frozen, and Hermione in shock.

"Oh god! How am I going to be able to function?!" The twins could see her brain in overdrive, fighting the cloud of carefree in typical brainy fashion. "I need to find a spell that will keep be grounded at least while I sleep and work!"

Fred rubbed a hand across his jaw in thought. "We might have a candy that is in testing that will work. Only for maybe an hour tops, but we could try that. Then we can maybe give Bill a call. He's dealt with all sorts while on site curse breaking."

George nodded, "That's a good idea, on both accounts. The candy's almost ready to be sold. Only side effect is the chills when you first bite it. What do you say, Hermione?"

Hermione looked between the twins, nodding slowly. "I don't feel myself. It's not bad, exactly. But I'm not used to it and it's been a long day. It's only tea time, but I'm ready for a nap. Lay it on me, boys."

She and George did a funny walk to the back, following Fred into their workroom. While he dug around for the new product ("We haven't decided on a name yet. Maybe 'Brick Bites: Makes you feel like a bag of bricks!' What do you think?"), she looked up at George.

"I'm so sorry you've been stuck with me all afternoon. I feel so bad."

"Don't be. It's not often I have a pretty witch wrapped around me like this." He winked, pleased by the blush in her cheeks.

"Here," Fred came over and handed her a four-pack of square candies. "They're chews. Right now they last upwards of an hour or so. Just don't eat more than a dozen in a day. We've capped it off there during testing and don't know if you can have too much with these testers."

Hermione tentatively released a hand from George's robes and took the candies. Unwrapping one (single handedly, quite the skill!), she popped it in her mouth. First bite, a cold chill went through her and she shivered. She'd forgotten the side effects. But as she chewed a few more times, she could feel her weight coming back to her. Slowly, she let go of George completely and took a step back.

She stayed firmly on the ground.

Cheering in delight, she threw her arms around Fred, jumping up and down in happiness.

"Blimey, Granger! I didn't realize you were this excitable!" he joked, giving her a friendly squeeze before pulling her back.

She whipped around and threw herself at George as well, who caught her deftly, squeezing her tight. She pecked him on the cheek before letting him go. "I think it's part of this curse. The Healer mentioned it might change my personality."

"So the swot is gone, then?" Fred asked cheekily.

"No. I may just let myself be a little more carefree, I think. If this is how you guys feel all the time, you know, the happiness and such, then I like it. It's less constricting." She smiled brightly.

George smiled. "I think I can speak for both of us when I say we both like this side of you."

"Damn straight. And you can bet those frilly Gryffindor knickers of yours Georgie and I are going to help you find something to keep you from floating away. Godric knows those fools at Mungo's will take their time." Fred pretended to brush lint from his robes, trying to keep the appearance of nonchalance.

"You're sweet." Hermione gave his cheek a pinch before slapping him playfully. She turned to George. "May I have a few more of these, if you can spare them? I've got to go see Draco, then tie myself down at Grimmauld for the night."

George nodded and have her a few more packs. "Floo us or send a Patronus if you need anything." He squeezed her hand before letting go and leading her to the Floo, past a gobsmacked Fred. "Good job on shocking Fred, by the way. I like this carefree Hermione."

Hermione laughed. "Thank you, George. See you later!"

The Floo activated and the two twins watched the flames.

"She's perfect," Fred said in awe. "That curse made her perfect. Well, aside from the floaty bits. We have to have her."

George murmured in agreement.

x/\x

Four Years Later

"Mum, this line has been part of the owl ordering for at least a year. You can't act like you haven't known about it!"

Molly Weasley pursed her lips at her twin sons.

"It sells better than the Skiving Snackboxes and Wonder Witch lines did combined! Of course we'd expand the store and put it in as a regular line!"

Fred and George both looked across the counter at their mother who had come to visit them in the shop. She mirrored their expressions and stances, her face coloring to a shade of pink.

"Molly? You're here? Good to see you!" Hermione wandered to the front of the shop, causing the three Weasleys to jump out of their mulish expressions as she came forward to give the matron a hug.

"Good to see you too, dear. Tell me you tried to stop them from launching this...this...Wicked Witch nonsense they've come up with!" Molly patted the woman on the back and pulled her back to look closely at her face. She was careful to hold her just so on the arms so she wouldn't float too high.

"Stop them?" Her eyes wandered to the twins, who, despite being grown men of twenty-four, looked like sheepish kids standing behind the register. Both George and Fred avoided eye contact. "Molly, the Wicked Witch line was my idea. I came up with the business plan and some of the prototypes and they jumped on. You've only got me to scold, I'm afraid," she added with a laugh.

Molly looked at her like a gaping fish out of water.

"Really, they wanted to mix it with the Wonder Witch products. I had to explain that that would be a complete disaster. I told them you had to have a clearly defined line between the stuff they can sell to the school-aged girls and to grown women. Hence the Wonder Witch line and the new Wicked Witch stuff."

Molly let go of Hermione in shock, her brain processing the information she'd been given. Immediately, without an anchor, Hermione started floating upward, but stopped when George reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt. She looked back at him with thanks and turned back to the Weasley matriarch.

"I made sure every product has an age-spell on it so no one under the age of seventeen can buy it or use it."

"See, Mum? She's clever, got it all figured out!" piped in Fred. Mrs. Weasley sent him a glare.

She looked up at Hermione, who's face held a look a patience and serenity under her shrewd stare down. Suddenly, her shoulders lost their tension and she let out a huff of defeat.

"Fine. Heavens know if it hadn't had Hermione all over it, you lot would be corrupting twelve year old girls. I don't like it much, but what can I do?" She gave the floating witch a small smile. "I brought you lot dinner, it's in the hamper I gave Georgie. I'll see you all at family dinner in a few days, yes?"

Hermione nodded and watched, still floating a half foot from the ground, as Molly hugged her sons goodbye and left the Wheezes via Floo. She looked between the brothers.

"I can't believe you didn't tell her about the Wicked Witch line when I told you to two months ago." She floated closer to the counter, thanks to George pulling her closer, and held on to the sturdy register. "At least she's leaving the corruption of the young witches to me. I'd hate to think I'm just sitting on my laurels in the back room while you two come up with more ways for kids to puke and bleed from random orifices."

"Oh, I don't know, 'Mione. I don't think anyone could accuse you of sitting on anything," Fred drawled with a grin. "You're lucky if you get to sit on the loo!" He ran off towards the back, barely avoiding the Jelly-Legs Jinx she sent his way. Next to her, George was still laughing.

"Git," she muttered affectionately.

"Yes, that he is. Luckily, it's my handsome mug with one ear that I have to look at in the mirror and not that mess. Go ahead and finish up for today, 'Mione. Fred 'n' I will wrap it up here within the next hour or two then we can eat whatever Mum sent along." George went to steer her towards her office, but she stopped him.

"Cast your spell on me? I've barely walked all day and I need the exercise."

George wandlessly cast his and Fred's temporary cure for Hermione, a spell called Fundatus, which grounded her for about three hours. The spell weakened the closer it got to the three hour mark, enough that she would hove above the ground a few inches. It gave her a warning so that she could situate herself and not float up the the ceiling. For some reason, Hermione was unable to cast it on herself, only Fred and George seemed to be able to get it just right.

"Can't remember the last time a lady asked me to cast a spell on her," he grinned as she landed with grace. She just rolled her eyes playfully and went to finish her night's paperwork.

George watched her go, jumping a bit when Fred slid up next to him with a sly grin.

"I'll tell you the last time a witch asked you. Two days ago. And it was Hermione." Fred exaggerated her name playfully. "But, if you didn't mean it quite so literal, probably close to seven or eight months. Because you've suddenly gone celibate again, brother of mine."

"Shove off," George muttered, busying himself by stocking the mini potions at the counter.

"No, I don't think so. Because you know what? You keep doing this every now and then. Torturing yourself. You want to know what I think, Georgie?"

"No."

"I think you like our Missy Granger. Dare I say, love her?" Fred grinned and leaned against the register. He loved when he could get George just so and the resulting tinge of pink in the ears. Very charming compared to Ron's maroon and violent outbursts and Nuh-uh.

George frowned. "She isn't ours."

"Ah, no, she's not. But you want her to be yours." Fred's eyes lit up when his twin didn't deny it. "Then what the bloody hell is keeping you from her?"

George let out a breath. "Nothing, I suppose. Just afraid."

Fred just shook his head. "Do something soon, mate. She won't be content just working with us soon. She's getting used to her curse and and she'll float off and be just out of reach for you. OY!" Fred turned and saw two boys, around nine or ten years old.

"Pay for that or get out before I hex your bits off!" The two boys dropped the stuff they'd been trying to steal, a blue Pygmy Puff and a set of fake wands, and ran out with terrified faces. When Fred turned back around, he saw George slip into his office and shut the door quietly.

/x\

"Effie, Fiona! You said you were going to wait to ask her!" Penny stood in the twins' doorway, pouting.

Hermione looked between the three of her kids, frowning. "Girls, really. You've got to get some sleep." They all looked at her with sad eyes. "Fine! I don't want to hear a peep out of you in the morning how tired you are! Not a single word or sound or action of complaint!" The three of them nodded.

"Where is your father?" Hermione muttered, tucking Penny in between the twins, the same way they used to lay together as toddlers.

"Dad said he was getting us surprises," Effie said excitedly. "That he had to wait to get them last minute or we'd find them."

"Truer words," she muttered, glancing at her less than innocent kids. "Where was I?"

/x\

Hermione finished up her work for the day about an hour and a half after leaving the twins in the front of the store. She tidied up her office and Apparated to their flat above the store, which had expanded along with the business. Now doubly wide and spacious place to live, it included four bedrooms and three baths along with an open kitchen and living room set up. The twins had their half of the flat and she had her own, meeting in the middle with the commons area. She went to fill the bathtub that the twins insisted on adding her en suite, and thought back to when she'd first come to live with the two.

She'd moved in about six months after the cursing incident when she'd found herself quitting the Ministry in frustration and unwilling to live in Grimmauld with Harry and Ginny as newlyweds any longer, not to mention Sirius and Remus newest budding, timid relationship together. The twins found her floating at their doorstep, holding on to the frame for dear life (and out of their candy, which were beginning to be ineffective anyhow). They dragged her in and sat her down for tea, each holding the back of her shirt with one hand to keep her grounded while she told them the current situation.

Immediately, Fred saw a business opportunity. He asked Hermione what kind of job she'd like to hold now that the Ministry wasn't keeping her held back in the useless paper pushing task of drafting proposals. She immediately responded with,

"Something challenging, exciting. Overall rewarding, I suppose. Mind you, exciting is well and good as long as I keep all my body parts. I wouldn't want to deal with curses and such that leave you without a hand without warning. I had enough surprises like that during my Hogwarts years."

"Love, we're working on expanding the store, keeping things fresh and the shoppers on theirs toes and interested. How about working for us?"

Hermione blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."

George, immediately seeing what his twin was going, hopped on. "The work meets all of your requirements. You won't really be restricted, except that it has to be sellable. There are surprises, but you at least know that they're going to happen when dealing with inventing."

"And you can come live with us! We just bought the next storefront over, including the space above it, so we can expand the flat and give you a room and loo all your own!" Fred was getting excited. Hermione knew it was hard to tell Fred no when he was really into an idea.

"Sure, why not?" She shrugged. "I suppose we'll need to recruit Ron and Harry and the like to help pack my things. I'd be a bit more than useless, and-"

Hermione was cut off, suddenly sandwiched between two twin redheaded men, efficiently grounding her with their hug. Smiling, she returned their shared hug best she could. "I should be hugging you guys. You're nearly bringing me in off the street," she laughed.

"Nonsense," said George, straightening up, not forgetting to grab the back of her shirt. Fred mimicked him, but didn't grab for Hermione.

"You're one of us. You understand the carefree attitude, you're bloody brilliant, easy on the eyes...Best decision we'd ever make, really."

And that was how Hermione became a partner in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Six months later, after she had come up with the basic draw up of the Wicked Witch line, they made it legal and gave her each shares of the business. Harry, their first investor, had ten percent, the twins each had forty five. Both of them gave Hermione ten percent each, leaving them with thirty five and an overall strong control of the company.

Around the same time, Fred and George managed to come up with their useful spell that kept her grounded. It was rather accidental, actually. George had become frustrated after a day of fruitless attempts and had fired off a spell in frustration wandlessly at the same time Hermione floated in. It hit her silently, dropping her to the ground non too gently. Blanching, George ran to her, checking her for injuries.

"Blimey, Hermione! You okay? I'm so sorry!"

Hermione chuckled. "I'm starting to think someone really wants me on my back."

George stared at her in shock. Hermione's grin faded a bit.

"It was a joke, George. Relax."

He pulled a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and helped her up.

"Wait." Hermione stood stock still and George mimicked her.

"What?"

"I'm not floating..."

He looked down at her, feet firmly on the ground, and back up at her surprised face. He whooped and spun her around, dizzily stopping them in the middle of the room. It left them swaying and giggly.

"What did you spell me with, George?"

George looked down at the elated witch. "A spell Fred and me have been trying to perfect. Fundatus. We couldn't figure out quite why it wasn't working. Guess it needed a bit of wandless and nonverbal to kick start it."

"How long will it last?" Hermione looked down at her feet, never as excited to be able to walk.

George shrugged. "Not sure. First time we've gotten it to work. If you don't have plans, stick around the shop so we can keep an eye on it? I don't want you up in the enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts or anything."

Since then, Hermione and the twins had become nearly inseparable. Where one was, the others were surely nearby. Usually always present at Weasley family dinners, small parties either at Grimmauld held by Sirius and Remus or Harry and Ginny (depending on who won the chess game prior) or at Shell Cottage thrown by Fleur, the three of them made up the life of the party. Hermione's curse even made for entertainment for Victoire and baby Molly, Percy and Audrey's first child. They loved watching her float up above them, only to be brought down by Harry or George or any other passerby while she told them stories.

Hermione was startled out of her reverie by the charmed mirror, who gasped, "Dearie, the tub!" The sudden voice interrupting her thoughts also made her realize her charm had worn off and she was already a few inches from the ground.

She looked down and saw that she indeed was just inches from having it overly full. She vanished a fraction of the water, checked for her robe, making sure it was in the room (the last time it'd been with the laundry had been an embarrassing event), added a healthy amount of bubbles and oils, then slipped in slowly. She sighed with the heat on her skin and visibly relaxed.

The discovered soon after her run in with Pansy that, for whatever reason, the one place, without the aid of spells or candies, that she could have her gravity was when she was in a body of water. The bath, a swimming pool, the Burrow's pond. They all allowed her to be a normal witch for however long she liked. Swimming and wading had become her favorite pastimes, even ahead of reading. But only just. Hermione cherished the moments where she didn't have to worry about being carried off by gusts of wind or when the spell her twins had created would wear off. Her days off from the shop were usually spent either at a muggle pool or, on warmer days, the Weasley's large pond.

As she soaked, per usual, she thought about the dismal results the St. Mungo's Healers had given her, wasting her time.

The Healer who had originally seen to her when she'd come in handled her case in the beginning. He seemed no nonsense, logical. Someone she could identify with. Well, mostly. He had been correct in assuming her personality would change a little, but the core of her was still the same. But soon enough, other Healers wanted in on this medical malady and he was practically shoved out of the fold. The best the lot could come up with, after she presented them with the fact she had her gravity in water, were several ludicrous notions that included transfiguring her into various animals and Animagus training (which she wasn't opposed to, but didn't want to turn it into an affair). After that, she stopped going back.

One day, though, after attending a Healer's appointment with a pregnant Ginny, she'd run into her old Healer who asked after her. He mentioned that he'd took to looking over her notes as a hobby since the others had kept him out of the fold, and he was interested in her change of personality the most. She mentioned the shift to being more lighthearted and easy going and he took on a thoughtful look.

"When was the last time you cried?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him, perplexed. "Pardon?"

"When was the last time you cried? Had so much emotion in you that you couldn't keep it in and it just came out. And afterwards, a weight was lifted off your shoulders and the world felt just a fraction better?"

She blanked. She knew she had many tears during and right after the war, when it had ended. The rebuild had come with tears of joy, relief, and heartbreak. But in the last fifteen months since making this curse a part of her life, Hermione couldn't recall a single instance of her crying. Not a single tear.

"Not since the curse Ms. Parkinson sent at you?"

She shook her head.

"Your change of personality may be making it hard for you emotionally. Your emotional side may have gone into hibernation; at least, the part that triggers tears. Should you ever encounter a moment of complete sorrow or happiness, that might be the key to unlocking your grounding, Miss Granger." He looked at her with a fatherly face. "Give it a try and come see me if you get your gravity." He smiled and left her in the waiting lounge, mind buzzing.

"HERMIONE?!"

Hermione jerked awake, swallowing some of the soapy water, coughing as she felt strong arms lift her from the water, leaving only her legs in the tub. She blinked back the water from her lashes and looked up at George's frantic face.

"Merlin's balls, Hermione! You were half under water, about ready to drown!" Both of George's arms wrapped around her naked torso, hugging her close to him. He didn't seem to mind his shirt becoming soaking wet. He buried his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder, leaving a ghost of a kiss on her wet skin. "Did you fall asleep?"

Too shocked that she was naked and in George's arms, it was all she could do to murmur into his throat a small "yes." Tentatively, she brought her own arms to him and held on tight to his back. He continued to leave small kisses on her shoulder, making her shiver.

George seemed to realize the situation, his lips halting near her collar bone. He took a deep breath and pulled away from her, his eyes taking her and her state of undress in. Her hair was dripping at the ends, her chest was heaving from anticipation and nervousness. The tips of her breasts were pebbled and pink, skin smooth and tan, taught down to her belly, which was still in the water, barely covered by the leftovers of the bubbles she'd put in initially. He seemed to audibly gulp, eyes transfixed on her glowing flesh.

Hermione licked her lips. "George?"

Neither was sure if it was a question or a plea, but they both found themselves inches apart, eyes zeroed in on each other's lips. Shared breath, their hands reaching for one another, grasping for anything.

Contact. Hesitant, soft. Slowly, George put more pressure into the kiss, sliding his hand up and into her mass of wet curls. Hermione's breathy pants spurred him on and he swiped his tongue at her entrance, asking to be let in. She complied readily, gripping his shoulders so that she wouldn't slip back into the water.

Their tongues slid together in a dance, hands exploring, breathing heavy.

When they parted for breath, they looked at each other, eyes wide.

"Uh, George..."

"'Mione?"

"Much as I hate to stop, I'm kind of cold now..."

He shook himself out of his stupor and realized that she was indeed still wet and very naked. Turning a furious shade of red that would make Ron jealous, he grabbed up her robe and held it out for her, letting her grab his shoulders for an anchor and step out of the tub. He wrapped her up snug, holding her close, grabbed the towel hanging by the door, and walked her to her bed. She held on to his shoulders and let him try her hair tenderly, their eyes never leaving each other.

"Oy, George! 'Mione! You guys up here?"

The spell broken, the two became aware of the intimate encounter they'd just shared. Hermione's face flushed crimson and she let go of him a moment, immediately floating up. With a sigh, George pulled her down and cast the grounding spell.

"I'll just pop out and see what Freddie wants..." George murmured, avoiding eye contact, leaving Hermione in her room alone.

Alone, she stared at her comforter, stunned. Her tongue darted to her lips, licking at any essence of George that had been left behind. Her hands gripped the towel he'd handed her and she sighed.

/x\

"I think this is where we leave the story until the holidays," George said in the twins' doorway with a grin.

"DAD!"

"Daddy!"

The girls launched themselves at him, smiles and squeals. From the bed, Hermione could only shake her head and smile.

George greeted all three equally, showering them with hugs and kisses and tickles. "Alright, alright. Back into bed, you lot. As your mum's probably already told you, you need to sleep. A big day's tomorrow!" He grinned down at all of them and ushered them into the beds.

"Can I...can I sleep with you guys tonight?" Penny asked the twins. Fiona nodded and scooted over to make room in her bed.

Both Hermione and George showered them with more kisses, turned out the lights, and shut the door behind them.

Heading back to the kitchen, George looked back at his wife. "What made you want to tell them about how we came to be? Not exactly kid-friendly..." He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, guiding her to her usual chair so he could make them their nightly cup of hot chocolate.

"Effie and Fiona asked. We were joined by Penny part way in. Evidently they've been wanting to hear the story. Sounded like someone's been telling them fantastical tales and half-truths, so they wanted it straight."

"They take that shrewdness from their mother," George chuckled, pouring them each a cup. "Not willing to learn it second-hand, needing it right from the horse's mouth."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him playfully, accepting the cup he held out with a smile. Sitting next to her, George put on an affectionate smile.

"Wanna remind me? I always up for hearing how much of a prat I was and how oblivious we both were."

She pretended to contemplate, which made him pout.

"Please?" He leaned over and ran his lips along her jaw.

Hermione groaned quietly. "You don't play fair..."

"Never claimed to, love."

/x\

George was frustrated.

He hadn't seen Hermione for four days since the night of the bathtub encounter, and despite knowing she wasn't intentionally avoiding him, (having been with Ginny, who was having false labor pains), he was upset. He put his feelings into packing fireworks, producing fake wands, and brewing the new lotions for the Wicked Witch line. When Fred commented on his sudden new productivity with a joke, George all but bit his head off, leaving his twin bewildered as he stomped off to bottle lotions.

When Hermione finally came back to their shared flat, George was past the point of conversation. If one wasn't a paying customer, all he did was grunt and glare at them. When she asked Fred about it, he'd replied that George probably just needed to get out a bit, flashing her a crooked grin.

She finally had enough, temper breaking, when she'd called it a day on worked and let the boys know she was taking a bath. George had made a smart comment, discrediting her work ethic. It made even Fred, who stood next to him in the stock room, freeze, blanching at the rude words. He tensed, waiting for her angry retort.

Hermione, in the doorway, floated a few inches off the ground, staring. A small frown marred her face. She said nothing, but propelled herself away from the room and slowly made her way to the back stairs to go up to their flat. When he was sure she was gone, Fred rounded back on his brother and boxed his ears.

"Sonofabitch! What was that for?!" George hunched over, rubbing at his ears. He glared up at his twin in annoyance.

"I'm sick of your attitude and the way you're treating everyone, you prat!" Fred crossed his arms, looking not unlike his mother. "You're sitting here, insulting Hermione and the girl is supposed to be the bloody love of your life! Have you gone daft?"

George just glared at the work table.

"What's got you like this? Please, share with me. Because I wasn't joking when I said I'm sick of it. I know Hermione is. You're treating her as bad as Ron did at Hogwarts when they fought. And that's bad."

"We kissed. About a week ago." George picked at the worn wood of the table. "But we haven't talked about it since."

"So you take it out on everyone else? You're an adult, man! You wash your own socks, you can do better than this! I believe that, Georgie."

"I guess I'm mad 'cause I want her to come to me first. Mad at myself for being like this."

"Did you get sorted into Hufflepuff? Because I know no fellow Gryffindor, and brother of mine, would treat a girl like shit because he was afraid!" Fred threw him an incredulous glare. "You've got every right to be angry at yourself. Stop taking it out on me and Hermione and the floor workers. You're making half of them want to quit and I don't want to interview new ones, the batch we have is decent."

"You're right.." George let out a shaky breath.

Fred resisted the urge to hit his brother again. "Of course I'm right. I am the smartest, not to mention the most handsome twin." He shoved George off his stool, catching him unawares. "Now get upstairs and apologize. And shag her brains out!"

George got up, face flashing in annoyance before smoothing out. He dusted himself off and sighed. "Alright then. Expect your bed to be occupied the rest of the night then." And walked out of the room and up the stairs.

Fred gaped at the doorway, shouting a belated, "OY!"

/x\

When George got up to the flat, he saw Hermione towards the ceiling, a complex look of sadness and confusion on her face. It was a type of look he hadn't seen on her since before she'd been cursed. When he caught her eye, she immediately broke the connection, glancing away. Looking around, he saw her wand and robes on the floor beside her shoes, leaving her helpless and answering his own mental question as to why.

Effortlessly, he cast the Fundatus spell, moving quickly under her and catching her in his arms. He tightened his grip on her, making it clear he didn't want her running off, and carried her into her bathroom. Sitting her on the counter top and stationing himself between her legs, he flicked his wand to the bath taps and heard them running the water. The bottle of oils and bubbles floated up and poured the usual amount, a towel folding itself on the small table at the head of the tub.

George never let his eyes leave her face.

Hands shaking, he put them at her shirt, just on the buttons, asking permission. She bit her lip, not looking directly at him, not telling him no. He started to undo the buttons, one at a time, waiting for her to stop him any moment.

"Hermione?" He was out of buttons, waiting. Her eyes met his and she nodded minutely.

He slid her shirt off, down her arms, tossing it onto the floor. Her arms and chest were covered in goose bumps, her chest moving with her quickened breath. She nodded again and let him do the same with her bra, leaving her totally bare waist up.

Twin spots of red brushed across her cheeks, the same flush rising on the tops of her breasts and chest.

Carefully, he slid her off the counter and to her feet, making sure she was used to having some gravity. When he was sure she had her footing, he slid her skirt down her legs, waiting as she stepped out of it. When she was clad only in her black knickers, he pulled her to him, his hands holding her by her bum.

"Please..." he whispered, breath whispering on her ear. "I need you to forgive me."

Hermione shivered, then tensed up and pulled away from him. She glared at him, eyes angry. Still staring at him, she pulled off the last garment she wore and, ignoring him, walked over to the bath and slowly lowered herself in the warm water. The bubbles covered her totally from the neck down, denying him any view.

"You're an ass, George."

George looked down, ashamed at his recent behavior.

"Did you know I haven't cried in four years?"

Her question caught him off guard, it wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear from her. "What?"

"It's been four years since I've been able to cry. I'm assuming because of the curse, how it altered my personality up a bit. I didn't realize it until I talked with that healer when I took Ginny in to the Healer's offices ages ago for James.

"Today, it was the first time I wanted to cry. I couldn't, obviously. I wasn't a mess when you found me. But it was like my body refused to, despite my head and heart being so incredibly sad." Hermione leaned over, resting her chin on the edge of the tub, watching George and the emotions as they played across his face.

George was speechless. He hadn't thought anything of it, how few negative emotions Hermione displayed. Most people didn't really admit to crying, or lackthereof. He knew the few times he'd cried since becoming a teenager revolved around the war and the uncertainty of his family's futures. The idea of having to keep in those emotions that invoked tears made a catch in his throat.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Hermione. For the last week, for not realizing...It didn't even occur to me. You're such a strong person... I... I've been such a prick."

Hermione nodded, keeping silent.

"I was anxious, beyond nervous, really. Frustrated, scared, a bit embarrassed. We never got the chance to talk after what happened last week and, while I know you weren't, that Ginny really needed you, I felt like you were avoiding me. Avoiding the issue."

"What exactly is the issue, George?"

He gaped at her. Had she forgotten? "You know...the kiss...?"

"Yes, I remember our kiss. But what's the issue? The crux?"

"I bloody love you!" he exploded, throwing his hands up in the air incredulously. He paused, watching her Cheshire smile grow. "You did that on purpose!" He pointed a finger at her childishly.

"Did what?" Her grin grew. She lifted her chin from the edge and she backed herself against the opposite side of the tub, watching him.

He watched her retreat, eyes narrowing. He kicked off his shoes quickly and quickly hopped into the bath with her, fully clothed. Surprised, she squeaked and laughed when he grabbed her up by the waist, holding her back close to his front.

"You made me admit that I love you! You minx!"

She let out a breathless laugh, "Made you?!"

"Yes, you trickster! I could have dragged that out at least fifteen more minutes and made us both horribly uncomfortable and you ruined it!" His fingers danced over her sides, causing her to wiggle in his arms.

Hermione and George both paused when she felt what she assumed was his growing erection on her backside. The two stopped moving completely, out of breath and soaking wet. She turned a bit to get a look at his face and watched his mouth as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Involuntarily, her hips pushed back, trying to create the friction she really craved.

Making a snap decision, she wandlessly vanished his clothes so that he matched her, skin on skin, making his arousal even more evident. He hissed at the air hitting his skin without warning, the feel of her bare back on his chest. His hands immediately traveled upward, finding a home on each of her breasts.

"George," she panted.

"'Mione?" he asked, voice quiet. Her behind pressed against him again and he groaned.

She turned her head more fully and captured his lips with hers. Their kiss was a heated battle of lips and tongues and teeth. All the while, their hips ground against each other, seeking action.

George broke the kiss by pinching her nipples, causing her to gasp and moan loudly. He kissed down her neck and shoulders, moving his hands to meet with her wrists. Stretching her arms out to clutch at the front of the tub, he slowly bent her over so that he easily hovered over her, giving him the perfect view of her wet ass. He squeezed her hands, indicating that she should keep them there, and dragged his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, down her back, staying at her waist. Instinctively, her hips swayed, inviting him back to continue their dance.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione," George whispered hoarsely.

She pushed her hips back to try and meet him, a mewl of frustration leaving her.

"No," he drawled. "Tell me. Verbally tell me what you want me to do to you, love." His hands traced shapes on the skin of her rounded behind. He gave it a pinch when he didn't get a response from her.

"Fuck!" she hissed. "Please. Fuck me!" She was panting, breathy with need.

Slipping two fingers in her folds, George could tell she was wet for him, her juices practically sliding down her thighs. He applied those fingers to her throbbing clit, drawing circles slowly. Her hips bucked in response.

"Damn it, George!"

Wanting to appease her, he thrust himself in halfway, relishing in her groan of delight.

"All you had to do was ask, love."

He pumped a few times shallowly, loving the way her entire body flushed with passion. When she clenched down on him, he nearly choked.

"Fuck me now, George!" her voice whined low, trying to keep control but hardly succeeding. Giving her what she asked, he pulled out fully before pushing himself in completely, the two of them both groaning at the sensation.

He moved his hands, one to her breast and the other back to her clit, and began to pump in earnest, his strokes fast and unrelenting, bollocks slapping against her wildly. His thumb worked against her clit, first two fingers teasing her entrance from the front.

Between the multiple sensations George was giving her, from the pinching and pulling of her breast to the nips he was leaving on her back to the furious thrusting of his cock inside her, Hermione was completely overwhelmed. And she loved it. The knuckles of her hands turned white with the effort of keeping her up and hanging on to the marble of the tub.

Without warning, she found herself coming, a wail of submission escaping her lips. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, and before she was finished, she could feel George come inside her, his own grunt of completion mixing with her voice. The heat of his seed sent a smaller shock through her, carrying her orgasm just a waver longer. Exhausted, she collapsed against the side of the tub, her arms and head hanging out of it. Behind her, George was a puddle of spent man, collapsed on his knees, head on the edge as well.

Their eyes met, blue and brown. They stared for a moment, unwilling to break the last of their connection.

He started when he saw wetness spring at the corners of her eyes.

"Hermione, are you crying? Why are you crying?!"

Hermione's brows furrowed, confused. She reached up and felt for the now loose tears that started to track down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but more came.

"I'm crying..." she whispered, almost in complete disbelief. "I think... I think it's because I'm so happy." She laughed and it came out a bit watery from emotion. "And I do forgive you, George."

George summoned his strength back to shift to her and take her up in his arms. He whispered soothing noises in her ear, rubbing her back with affection. "Go on, then. Let it out, if you must. I'm glad you're happy, 'Mione."

She buried her face in his shoulder and wept.

/x\

"So I was right?"

Hermione took a step back after hugging her Healer at St. Mungo's, the same one that had diagnosed her curse four and a half years before.

"Yes. All I needed was a bit of a cry. At least, a reason to have a happy one." She smiled and subconsciously rubbed at her belly.

"I'm glad you came to tell me the same day you came to confirm your pregnancy. I like to see people get their happy endings." The Healer chuckled and lead Hermione back to the tea room where a nervous George and a grinning Fred were waiting.

She'd come in to confirm her suspicions that morning. She was indeed pregnant, about four months along. Specifically asking for the Healer who had helped her those years ago, she wanted to share her good news with him, all events.

She had her gravity back, she was happily in love, and she was expecting.

They walked in and Fred's grin grew wider, seeing Hermione rub on her stomach. George was in front of them in a flash, worried for his girlfriend's health.

"What's wrong with you, then? It wasn't from all the Wicked Witch brewing, was it? That explosion last month?"

The Healer's lips twitched in humor. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley. You're going to have a small Weasley on your hands in about five months." He shook George's hands, shot a grin to Fred, who was barely keeping his laughter in, and patted Hermione on the back affectionately before leaving.

George gaped at the space the Healer had occupied, in shock. Slowly, his gaze traveled to Hermione and how she rested her hand on her belly protectively. His shocked blue eyes met her own, which were full of speculation.

"You're not going to be sick, or anything, are you?" she asked him, worried about his coloring.

He stayed silent, eyes drifting back to her belly before turning up in his head, his body collapsing to the ground. Not expecting it, neither Hermione nor Fred had time to cast a cushioning charm for him.

Hermione gave Fred an incredulous look. Fred just hooted in laughter.

"Serves him right. Bet you lot have a brood of girls!"

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to take 60 seconds and review! Let me know your thoughts, loves, ideas for upcoming stories, etc. I love hearing from everyone and try to respond to everyone!

All the best,
itakethewords