Work Text:
"I'm just not the kind of person who loses control," said Hermione Granger as she stared out into two sets of identical blue eyes.
The Weasley twins had recently opened their twelfth store in the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes chain - somewhere in France, apparently- and had somehow managed to convince the curly haired ex-Gryffindor to join them in a celebration of their success. But, if the looks they were giving her were any indication, she wished anxiously she had pleaded a headache and stayed at home curled up on her battered old sofa with an aging Crookshanks.
Instead, she was in The Crooked Wand, half way pissed on three glasses of Gillywater and with the Weasley Twins giving her a look that was making her distinctly nervous.
How did she get herself into these situations?
"Charlie said as much," George said with a smirk.
"Mmm, said you were a bit boring," Fred added, his eyes glittering mischievously. Hermione rolled her eyes; they were idiots if they thought that was going to work. This appeared to be the Twins' new favourite game: make Hermione lose control. They hadn't managed it yet, but she'd be damned if she hadn't come close.
"Did he really?" she asked disinterestedly, surveying her newly manicured nails. "And how exactly did you manage to procure this information?"
"It's amazing what people will tell you under the influence." George was smirking again. He did look rather nice when he did that.
No more Gillywater for you, Hermione.
"Under the influence of what, exactly?"
They don't know a thing, Charlie wouldn't say a word.
"Truth Truffles." Hermione felt the blood drain from her face as their smirks turned to full blown grins.
Oh no!
"Tut tut, Hermione, no sense of adventure," George said leaning forward on his thighs, a wicked smile flashing across his lips.
"Variety is the spice of life," Fred added as he leant forward in imitation of his brother. "And you, Hermione Granger, definitely need to spice things up."
Urgh, this was not good.
She was blushing, she knew she was - she had to be. Not only had Charlie, soon to be deceased, slandered her sexual character but he had done it to Fred and George. Fred and George! So naturally, as these things go, the only natural solution was: Charlie had to die.
But before that she had a reputation to fix.
"I think you need to sort out your truffles boys because I am a wildcat in bed!" Fred and George stiffened in surprise. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and couldn't stop her eyes from widening in horror.
What in Merlin's name had possessed her to say that? And to the twins, no less. Oh, sweet Merlin's shorts, she was never going to live this down. This would go down in Weasley Twin history. They would come back to haunt her about this after they died, which looked like it wasn't far off the way they were laughing at her.
Good, I hope they choke.
Naughty, naughty Hermione.
Well I do, what's so funny about me being good at … well … you know?
Besides the fact you can't actually, physically, say the word 'sex'?
Shhh! She was blushing. She was actually blushing.
You really are pathetic, Granger. That voice had sounded suspiciously like Malfoy. She was actually going crazy.
Hermione had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at herself as she turned to watch the twins laugh uproariously. Well this just wouldn't do.
"What, exactly, is so funny, might I ask?" she said using the most condescending tone she could muster. The twins seemed unfazed as they continued to chuckle, doubled over in what looked like pain. Hermione silently hoped they were.
"I'm sorry Hermione, it's just, you're anything but wild," Fred explained, choking back another laugh as he pulled his Fire Whisky to his mouth, coughing as it went down wrong through his laughter.
"You're all books and parchment," George picked up, "there is nothing about you that's wild. You're too organized, too neat, too prim and proper," he explained.
"It's like an oxymoron. The word wild cannot be used in connection with the name Hermione Granger. It's just not done."
"Yes, well, I don't know about 'Oxy' but you're definitely a moron," Hermione muttered under her breath. Fred merely smiled roguishly at her.
She'd show them, they'd never doubt her sexual prowess ever again. She'd show them - yes she would!
And how do you plan to do that?
I plan to … I plan to …
Yes?
I Plan to... kiss one of them?
You're going to kiss one of them?
Yes!
With a growl of frustration at the uselessness of her subconscious, Hermione rose purposefully to her feet and moved to the nearest twin, pretty sure it was Fred. In a stride and a half she was in front of him and bending over to place her hands on the arms of the chair he was sitting in. The twins had fallen quiet by this point, and had proceeded to shocked staring as they watched Hermione lean in close to Fred, giving him an ample view down her white work blouse. Hermione smirked when his eyes clamped onto the creamy white curve of her breast and his breathing quickly became heavy.
"I am nothing, if not wild," She whispered huskily, hoping desperately she sounded something akin to sexy.
Fred's eyes flew to hers a second before her mouth descended on his, pressing against it aggressively in an achy slide of lips.
The sound of someone choking to her right assured Hermione that George was watching them.
Her mouth opened slightly, and the wet pressure of her tongue on Fred's bottom lip ripped a gasp-turned-moan from his throat, giving her entrance to his mouth. She brushed her tongue against his softly, barely touching it and he moaned again as his hand flew to her small waist. Hermione could barely suppress the giddy sense of satisfaction that welled up inside her as she drove her tongue into his mouth forcefully, pressing her lips against his in a bruising kiss. He moaned again, this time much louder, and the vibrations of it worked their way through her body all the way to the very tips of her toes. She had to pull away, this was getting too much, and she was enjoying it far too much.
Pull away … Hermione, pull away … let go of his lips … now, Hermione … PULL AWAY!
Hermione tore her lips from his, but kept her arms firmly planted on either side of his body, panting heavily as she stared straight into his dark eyes.
She smirked wickedly as she straightened up and took a step back to survey the chaos she had wreaked. George continued to gape at her whilst Fred licked at his lips desperately, as if looking for some last remnant of her.
"Now, if you two boys don't mind, I'd like to go home to bed." She tried to make it sound as much like an invitation as possible, before turning on her heal with a wink at George and striding off towards the door of the pub, leaving two very confused Weasley twins in her wake, as well as her coat and her handbag on the chair she had been occupying.
This was something that didn't escape the two red headed men sat opposite them.
"You think we should drop them off at hers? Make sure she gets them?" George asked thickly after a moment as he stared at the coat and bag in worship.
"Most definitely," Fred replied huskily. "It's the only honourable thing we could do."
Nothing, however, either of the twins had planned for Miss Granger that night could be in any way considered honourable.