Curiousity Treats

"You're terrible," It was a fiercest of the smallest whispers, but Fred heard her as clear as he would hear the ringing of school bells. As deliberately irritating as his reputation brands him, he cocked his smirk and met her dull eyes.

Hermione Granger stood, as tall as she could hold, an unsurprisingly thick book cradled between her stiff arms. Such a look crossing her face would rattle the bones of hippogriffs. The temper of a stubborn lady, was number one on the list of "things one shan't encounter at will". The messy dark strands of her mane stood out even more than naturally possible.

"Sleep well, love?" Fred Weasley asked innocently whilst stabbing his morning pudding messily.

Ron Weasley, still a lifeless bloke with a ginger mop to pass as his hair, stiffened, his eyes darting inquiringly towards his brother. Fred eyed him subtly with his peripheral vision as he did so, and shrugged indifferently.

"No, I did not have my ideal sweet slumber- or awakening, rather, when I woke up completely covered in cookie dough." Her breath was so sharp, even George had the shame to look slightly nervous (an incident only capable of Mrs. Weasley).

"Very freshly baked cookie dough, I might add-"

Hermione scowled at him haughtily, her face red and at its most agitated state. Ron and George shifted uncomfortably on their stools. She spun her heel with more emotion than intended; her disarrayed glory of brown strands flowing in the wind as she stomped noisily.

"Shame," Fred looked at his pudding, "I thought she would've liked breakfast."

"You..." Ron sputtered quietly, his freckles starting to contrast his pale tone, "... didn't sleep with her, did you?"

"HEAVENS!" Fred and George shouted simultaneously, the table creaking noisily as they shot up in complete and utter bafflement. George splattered a mouthful of pudding as he did so, resulting to a choking fit.

"What on THIS BLOODY WORLD, would make you think OF SUCH A THING?" Fred spat, very obviously disturbed. George eyed Ron incredulously, still bits of pudding running down his cheeks.

"You... covered her in cookie dough, asked her this morning if she had a nice sleep. And i did ask you for that certain... favor... a thought just nagged me that you might've gone quite far (for you usually do). I'm honestly glad that you haven't crossed that line, I would've killed you so..." Ron's color was coming back.

Fred sighed, eyeing his younger brother with such a pitiful and aggravated stare. "First of all," Fred cleared his throat, "No idea how cookie dough made you think of sex."

"-interesting idea, though" George mumbled quietly as Ron shot him a "that-comment-was-inappropriate" look.

"Secondly, you've made it clear last night that you fancy that piece of work. I've been denying our blood relation for half of my life, but I'm still your brother," He said genuinely, and Ron knew that although Fred himself was a piece of work, he wasn't one to break promises.

"And thirdly, she's Hermione Granger." This time, Fred looked him in the eye, a fervent expression written on his face.

"Also, ickle little Ronniekins, sex isn't casual," George looked up from his saved pudding, winking at Ron slyly.

"-we are NOT having this conversation!" Ron flushed, losing his appetite almost instantly. It was very much uncharted territory for the young one, but the twins felt the need to pass down their superior knowledge on the like.

"-the occasional snogging is acceptable, but anything beyond the... uh,well, slightly naked-"

"NO! This is uncomfortable, and we're talking about Hermione, and you know I don't th-"

"Please Ron, our rooms aren't exactly miles away-"

"-I just had to verify that you didn't create-"

"-create?" George looked up from his clean bowl for the second time, a playful smile on his lips. "Curious choice of words, Ronald-"

"You two may have trod down this very mature road, but I am perfectly comfortable-"

"I'll stop you there, little bro," Fred raised his hand, "I'll admit we're occasionally quite reckless, and our charm doesn't exactly drive the women away, but we have our morals-"

"Well, that's new." Ron snapped, "I'm surprised you aren't handing me a list of strategies-"

"It would be quite lengthy, and erotic literature isn't my forte as you kn-" George quipped.

"I'll rephrase, I haven't taken a casual stroll down that road, as I have my morals, Georgie, on the other hand-"

"WE ARE NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION." It was a roar, and the heavens and the Earth now have no doubt whatsoever of Ron's being in a House with lion-like qualities.

"YOU STARTED IT." The twins roared back in equal volume. Fred's mouth twitched in amusement.

"I'll say it again, however," Fred said, this time in a quiet tone, "the mere thought of Hermione Granger in my room rattles me. And George and I," his eyes darted towards his clone inquisitively, "would rather spin and woo a lady before wrapping them in linen sheets." George nodded, but Ron felt the humor playing in his eyes, spinning a slight doubt in him.

"Really, George?" Ron started, his eyebrows raised.

"I swear on my future multi-million galleon business." He winked as he magically refilled his glass.

Ron slumped on his seat, an exasperated look crossing his face for a split second, soon replaced by the slight hint of relief. His cheeks clouded crimson as he noticed that his brothers were still smirking at his downfallen state.

"What?" His tone was sharp.

"Nothing," Fred shrugged, a blank look on his face, "Ronald in love is certainly an interesting sight to see, mind if I become a regular visitor?"

"Yes, I do mind, actually." George wasn't sure, but he had the nagging feeling that Ron had gritted his teeth.

"The question was rhetorical, and regardless of your will, the checklist will resume as planned. Ickle Ronniekins, as the 25th rule of the Weasley Brotherhood states-" George choked silently as his twin went on, "it is time to undergo the pains of awkward conversations with your older brother, just as I, George, and possibly Percy have endured."

"You're making this up. I'm not even surprised, just let me go now, Fred," Ron pleaded. "Game over, alright? I'm fed up, terribly fed up. I'm going to crawl up to my room now if you don't mind."

"I do mind, sit down, Ronald Billius." Ron groaned as he felt the sensation of metal clamps on his freckled limbs. George twirled his spoon innocently with one hand, the other under the table.

"To put it simply, I advise you not to creep her out. It's possible that she's accustomed to your peculiarity and Weasley charm by now, given the past 4 years with her, but too much of it goes down a long way. Percy himself denied this first rule, and look where that's gotten him, a single, sniveling, mindless prat worthy of not even a two-legged creature."

Ron eyed Fred incredulously, unsurprisingly not for the first time, or for the second time, even. "You're comparing me to Percy. I am thoroughly offended, this draws the line, Fred."

"Secondly," Fred dismissed Ron's protests, "I guess when it comes down to everything, only bravery persists. You aren't exactly the brightest crayon in the box as compared to her neon yellow streak. I suggest that to fight for all of her is necessary. Also, probably throw her some compliments. And, remember that the woman is always right. Not in my case, but probably in yours."

Slowly, the sensation of cold metal cuffs slipped down Ron's body, and with a jerk more forceful than necessary, he jumped up from his wooden stool. "Nothing new, Fred." He snorted, "I would say that I'm thankful for this brotherly advice, but I am going to carry on with my own pace and... charm."

George snorted indignantly.

"It was only a reiteration of Charlie's old words. To be honest, I may have thrown a couple of insults rather than compliments to a few women. Endearingly so, however." Fred ran a hand through his bright hair, his eyes gleaming in fond memory. He looked over his shoulder, as Ron took his steps hastily away from the dining area. "You will take care of her, though."

Ron merely nodded, and the fervent expression on his younger brother's face was enough for Fred to place what little faith he had left in him.

As Ron's silhouette fled away from them, Fred suddenly realized that his twin hadn't spoken a word for the past 5 minutes. Quite a record, he admitted. He shifted uneasily on his feet as he spun to meet the identical yet 'unidentical' face. Having the nerve to meet his eyes, he placed his questioning expression.

"Fred, how long have I known you?" George asked softly their eyes met. For the first time, Fred couldn't place exactly what he was seeing on George's face, whether it was amusement or warning, or something entirely different.

"All your life."

"All yours."

"You'd be the nutter to think that I don't know." George kept the expression.

Fred sighed, his insides churning slightly. The fact that George knew him better than himself would be endearing if not annoying at certain circumstances. "It's nothing, okay. It's nothing." He raised his hands. "I swear, George, it's nothing."

"You do repeat when you're unsure. You do know that, do you?"

Fred flashed a look of slight amusement and irritation. "I know, okay. I know."

"I know you know." And the other half turned his back, shuffling quietly away from the other, who wasn't quite sure if he knew what that meant.