Archive of Our Own

“How could you do this to me?” 

Percy had uttered the phrase without thought, without preamble, yet Hermione had whirled her head about to face him, a curious lift to her brow as she stared him down. He was strewn across her dining table, the ugly mint green paint beginning to flake off and threatening to embed into his flannel sleeve, pouting petulantly at her. 

It felt to be a personal attack, if he were honest. In the years following his reunification with his family after the war, he’d put in a lot of effort in cultivating his friendship with Hermione. No longer could anyone safely assign her to mingle with only Ron and Ginny - now Percy made it a habit to swoop in and swift her off to more interesting conversation. She was the only one in the vicinity who he could discuss Important Matters with - and Not-So-Important Matters as well. She’d been the first soul he’d mentioned his sexuality with, and she’d only hummed, took a sip of her tea, and inquired if he’d like to discuss the matter further, but regardless she was happy for him. After that, they’d carried on with their discussion of literature as though nothing had occurred, yet Percy had felt as though a weight had been lifted off of him. It’d led to him telling his family, and Hermione had stared shrewdly at everyone until they offered some form of positive response.

And now she was abusing him. That was the only rational explanation, after all. 

Hermione only scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning back to her kettle as she readied their tea. “Fairly sure this has nothing to do with you, Percy.” 

“It has everything to do with me, Hermione,” he argued, still pouting at her back as his glasses slowly slipped down the bridge of his nose. 

She’d just announced, calmly and without preamble, that she was dating one of his brothers and had been for quite some time, but that they’d recently made it official and were making the rounds in telling his family. 

Which would’ve been all well and good, except she’d picked Fred. 

There was nothing wrong with Fred, obviously - he was Percy’s little brother, after all, and he’d hex anyone who said a bad word against him. It was just that he, as well as George, had very little in common with Percy. Out of seven children, not all of them could be as thick as thieves - Fred and George had an inseparable bond, naturally, and Percy had gotten used to being the odd man out long before their arrival into this world. And that was fine - they didn’t need to have anything in common, and he’d love his brother all the same. 

But Hermione was his friend, and the circumstances all felt terribly unfair. 

Hermione sighed, a wayward tendril of her hair floating up before sailing back down. Percy stared at her back - despite his dramatics, he wasn’t really upset with Hermione. Yet a tenseness had settled on her shoulders, and when she turned to bring him a mug, her brow was taut. 

Percy arched a brow, glancing over her face perceptively as she set the ceramic beside his elbow. For a long moment he stared at her, and she at him, until finally she dropped into the empty chair beside him and curled her knees up to her chest, her socked feet poking out of the ridiculously large sweatpants. 

“I told the others,” she mumbled, staring into her steaming mug of tea as Percy righted himself, absentmindedly picking paint chips off of his sleeves before reaching for his tea. The others, obviously, referred to Harry, Ron and Ginny. He could imagine she and Fred delegating siblings to share the news with before informing Percy’s parents - it would be logical as opposed to telling everyone at once and causing chaos. (He could only imagine how put out Fred was as Hermione set the plan.) “They weren’t...they didn’t take it well.” 

Puzzled, Percy clasped his mug in both hands, his brow furrowing as he stared at her face. Her brows were pinched together, her mouth drawing up and lip wobbling as she blinked furiously at her tea. 

With a sigh, Percy righted his glasses and set the mug on the edge of the table once more, “Shit.” 

Hermione looked to him, her eyes glassy and tears threatening to spill. 

“How is it that I have to be mature when you’re outright attacking me?” he asked, although he quirked his mouth into a half smile to assure her that it was all in jest. 

She snorted, rolling her eyes before quickly swiping the fallen tears from her cheeks. “I’m not outright attacking you - who I date has nothing to do with you.” 

“Then why not George?” Percy countered, leaning back in his seat and taking his mug with him. 

She sniffled, brought the mug to her lips, and at the last moment gave him a cheshire grin. “Because this pisses you off.” 

“I knew it!” 

Hermione had laughed, Percy had laughed, and then they’d had a chat involving the stupidity of his youngest set of siblings - including the one who’d charmed her. Percy warned her as best as he could, insisting that he didn’t want to be the one to hear it when Fred grated on her nerves or her hair turned pink, yet Hermione had only beamed and pecked his cheek and asked if he’d read the latest article in their favorite academic journal. 

Percy, for as much as he loved the two separately, couldn’t fathom what the pair might have in common. Yet, as much as he would’ve preferred to ignore it, there was a noticeable difference in Hermione’s demeanor. She was quicker to smile, appeared more relaxed, and was often caught humming when she thought no one was listening. 

She’d surprised him by inviting him to her flat for dinner with the twins, months after her initial announcement. 

Percy, not wanting to be rude, had agreed - yet he’d arrived through her Floo with a stomach full of unease. 

“Percy! Where does Granger keep her cookware?” George asked as he popped his head out of the archway of the kitchen, a grin on his face as Percy patted himself down for soot. 

Puzzled, Percy dusted himself off before making his way across the living room, glancing about as he searched for his friend and brother. “Why doesn’t Hermione tell you where they are?” he asked, even as he opened a cupboard and offered it to him. If it were another sibling, he might’ve been more wary - as it was, George was one of the better cooks of the family. (Perhaps even better than their mother, but that was a thought best left unsaid.)

George tipped his head in appreciation, humming as he pulled out a saucepan to start with. “Because Granger isn’t here.” 

Percy hummed, leaning against her small kitchen counter as George went about gathering ingredients and spices. Once he recognized the meal that he was beginning to prepare, Percy rolled up his sleeves and got to work in slicing and dicing. “Where’s Fred?” 

George stilled before resuming his task, silently filling up the saucepan with water and setting it atop the stove before he spoke again. “Helping Hermione,” he stated. 

Percy glanced to George, looking at him curiously and finding an odd expression on his face. “What’s - ?”

Before he could ask, George sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. “We’re the only ones who aren’t giving them shit, you know that?” 

Percy blinked in surprise, his knife stilling as he turned to look at George fully. His mouth was twisted and his brows furrowed as he stared into the small pot of water expectantly. “Not even - ?”

He wasn’t sure who he would’ve mentioned, as George was quick to shake his head. Percy roved through a mental catalogue of his family members, trying to analyze if any of them had been behaving oddly. He’d noticed that family dinners had been a bit more tense, but he’d thought that it was because the relationship between the pair was still rather new. Family dinners with new partners were always rather stilted - yet, with Hermione, they shouldn’t have been, he realized. 

“Shit,” Percy huffed, feeling his own brows pinch together. “So where are they?” 

“Hermione had a…” George mimed something in confusion, holding it up to his head as he looked at Percy expectantly. Percy guessed if she’d had a phone call, and George snapped and nodded before whirling about to the fridge. “Hermione had a phone call, apparently some disaster with some sort of paperwork, and Fred went with to save the poor sod from Death by Granger.” 

Percy nodded his head along, immediately filling in the context that George didn’t fully have. Hermione was in the process of leasing a small shop in Hogsmeade, intent on selling more Muggle books than Flourish and Blotts provided. She’d begun to stock her inventory, little boxes of books already finding their way in the corners of her living room. 

Percy and George chatted as they worked side by side in order to make dinner, talking of things that weren’t important and didn’t matter. It’d been a long time since they’d had a conversation on their own, Percy realized, and he found the experience to be rather nice. Perhaps, if it happened more often, they might even begin to bond. Wouldn’t that be something?

He turned from watching George inspect the tenderness of some vegetables when the Floo ignited, Hermione’s voice carrying as she entered the kitchen with a hefty box on her hip and her phone pressed to her head. 

“ - I understand what the paperwork says, but that is still not my physical address,” she insisted, a dark look on her face as she set the box on the edge of the table. Fred wasn’t far behind her, squeezing past her and Percy and offering a grin to his two brothers as he maneuvered to the other side of the table to place himself out of everyone’s way. 

Percy watched on in fascination as Fred, unprompted, sat in a chair and slid the box closer towards him, pulling it free from Hermione’s grasp and placing it on the floor and underneath the table itself. Hermione, her hand now free, drummed her fingers on the table top, the sound gaining speed as her irritation grew. 

Fred, his hands now also free, placed an elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand, looking towards Hermione expectantly. 

He must’ve thought that no one was watching, likely not even Hermione herself, as Percy watched a look of overwhelming fondness cross his brother’s face while he gazed up at the irate witch. 

Percy, feeling as though he were intruding, glanced at George - who’d seen it too, and was miming being sick in the still bubbling saucepan. After a cross look was given, George only grinned and rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Apparently, this sort of thing was common. 

“No, I need them shipped to the address that you should have on file,” Hermione declared, rolling her neck from side to side as she glared at the ceiling. She huffed, glancing at Fred as his free hand reached out to tap against her drumming fingers idly. She caught his eye and he was quick to grin. Interestingly enough, Hermione was able to sigh, roll her eyes, and return the smile as she hooked her index finger around his. 

Percy, checking his pulse and wondering if he’d died and been transported to an alternate reality, glanced at George to see if he’d witnessed the anomaly as well. Hermione Granger being able to smile in the midst of annoyance? What was the world coming to? 

“I just left there,” Hermione huffed into the receiver, her lips pressing together into a thin line as she glared off in the middle distance. Fred’s grasp on her finger turned to her whole hand as he gave a comforting squeeze. “No - you have already taken up far too much of my time. This matter can be resolved come Monday morning. Have a good weekend.” 

And with that, Hermione ended the call before tipping her head back and groaning. 

“That was the most hateful ‘have a good weekend’ I’ve ever heard,” Fred said with a grin and another doting look that George was all too quick to gag over. “Oy - watch it, you.” 

“Haven’t said a word,” George declared with a haughty sniff. 

“I hate them,” Hermione intoned, paying no mind to the twins’ bickering. 

“I can set fire to their shop,” Fred offered. 

“Not until I get my stock,” she grumbled before wincing, “Also - no arson.” 

“Booo - ” the twins chorused, Fred ending in an offended gasp when Hermione released his hand and turned to Percy, who’d been watching their interactions with an interest similar to a scientist studying his test subjects. 

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived - how was work?” Hermione asked with a pleasant smile. 

Percy arched a brow, a grin slowly crossing his face as he stared at her. Typically, if Hermione was aggravated or upset by someone or something, they’d spend the next hour groaning and griping about the situation. Percy hardly minded, in fact some of their conversations made him chuckle upon remembrance, yet it was...surprising. 

A lot of things that night were surprising him. 

Before she could question his expression, he grinned and shrugged. “It was fine - came in to find George rummaging through your cupboards though.” 

“Who puts a Dutch oven in with their plates?” George grumbled, giving dinner a fiesty stir as Hermione rolled her eyes. 

Dinner progressed - well, Percy wouldn’t call it normally, as it was very abnormal to have dinner with the twins and Hermione. But if it were to become a new sense of normal, then he wouldn’t be one to complain - he hadn’t laughed that hard in ages, and he’d felt accomplished when something that he’d said had gotten Fred and George both to laugh. Eventually, dinner had been finished and dishes had been cleaned (George threatened to sneak into her flat in the middle of the night to reorganize her kitchen cupboards) and the day was quickly drawing to an end. 

Surprisingly, Fred and George both made their leave, allowing Percy to sit on one corner of the couch as Hermione took the other. 

They were silent, mulling over the interactions of the evening, before Percy hummed to capture her attention. 

“You’re going to marry him, aren’t you?” Percy asked softly, yet with the tone of someone who’d already accepted something long before it was a reality. 

Hermione blinked at him in surprise, her mouth dropping open and her cheeks turning pink before she huffed. He’d caught her off guard, and she didn’t appreciate it. “Don’t be silly - ”

“I’m not being silly,” he scoffed, stretching his legs out on the cushions and tapping his socked feet against her shins as he folded his arms over his chest. “When have you ever known me to be silly?” 

“It’s much too soon for thinking like that,” she insisted, crossing her own arms over her chest and attempting to glower at him. 

“I like to plan ahead,” he said with a grin, chuckling when she rolled her eyes at him once more. It was her default expression - she’d gotten quite good at it in the length of time that he’d claimed her as his friend. “Oh, I suppose I don’t have much to complain about. As much as it confuses me, I’ve never seen the pair of you happier. Far be it from me to attempt to understand something that doesn’t require my input.” 

Hermione bit her lower lip, mulling over the sentiment before smiling gently at him, tipping her head against the back of the couch as she gazed at him. “Thank you.” 

“You shouldn’t feel the need to thank me,” he insisted softly, not liking the sad way that Hermione sighed. “They’ll come around. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Hermione hummed unconvincingly, unaware of the ploy he was crafting in harassing his family into acceptance. He was sure that George would be more than willing to help. 

George had been nearly giddy at the idea, stuffing his pockets full of gizmos and products that Percy wanted to have no knowledge of. They’d stopped at Charlie’s place first, as he’d been relocated to head a dragon reserve in Belgium, and he’d roared with laughter before explaining that he was only silent at family dinners because he was still running numbers on the reserve in his brain. He’d admitted that he hadn’t paid much attention to Fred and Hermione’s business anyway, but that he was on their side and sorry that he hadn’t made more effort to convey that previously. 

Bill and Fleur were next, and once the half-Veela had caught wind of what was occuring, she’d done their job for them. She’d shouted and cursed in French, reminding Bill of all that they’d gone through when their family hadn’t approved of their relationship, and Bill was extremely quick to change his mind. 

That left Ginny, Ron and Harry, the trio that Percy was dreading. 

It’d taken nearly two hours of shouting before either Ron or Ginny could listen to reason, claiming that it’d made no sense and that they were ill suited for each other, when Percy pleaded with them to simply observe Hermione and Fred interact with each other.

After the next family dinner, he’d overheard a plethora of apologies sent towards the confused couple, leading Percy’s mother to chime in with her own set of apologies - most likely at his father’s insistence. Arthur, Percy and George had managed quiet smiles whenever Fred had tipped his head in gratitude towards them, Hermione none the wiser as she assured Molly that there were no hard feelings. 

For a few weeks, things appeared settled. His family wasn’t making Hermione, or Fred, uncomfortable any longer. Things were still odd, such as Fred claiming a seat beside Hermione whereas he might not have before and briefly gathering everyone’s undivided attention, or Hermione’s face pinching whenever Ron mentioned a new Auror that was single before he remembered himself and apologized. But, those were little things that would be ironed out in due time. 

Up until he arrived at Hermione’s flat to find her anxiously biting a nail, staring at the Floo when he entered. 

“Something the matter?” Percy asked, toeing off his shoes and staring at her curiously. 

Hermione took her nail out of her mouth, stared blankly at him, and then finally stated, “I think I might be pregnant.” 

“Oh,” Percy said without hearing her, staring at her silent, wide-eyed appraisal of him before it clicked. “Ohhh….” 

He remembered then that she was dating Fred, quickly followed by how naturally chaotic he and George had been as babies and toddlers. He’d had a book on Norse mythology then, and could remember staring into their shared crib (they were twins, after all, and the family could only afford the one hand-me-down crib at the time) and musing as to which one of them had been the trickster god Loki that had gotten reincarnated as a baby and sent to Earth. 

He’d decided that it had been Fred. 

Shortly after his memory of the twins causing all kinds of ruckus until he had moved out of the Burrow to seek peace and quiet, he remembered the promise that he’d made to Hermione ages ago. He’d mentioned it nonchalantly, not wanting to make a casual moment overly sentimental, but he remembered promising that her future children could always spend some time with their ‘Uncle Percy.’ 

At the time, he hadn’t been aware just how much truth had been in that innocuous, well-intended statement. 

Now, both memories were clashing together within his mind. 

Fred’s natural born chaos. 

Hermione’s intelligence.

All wrapped into one. 

“Oh...n...no….”

Hermione gaped, staring at him in surprise before smacking his arm. “Oh no?! That’s what you have to say?!”

“Hermione, I’m reeling here - what do you mean that you might be pregnant?!” he shouted back, skirting around her as he began to pace about her living room. 

“Would you like the logistics or - ?”

“Oh my gods , stop talking,” he insisted, clutching at his hair and groaning. “Just - bare minimum. Please.” 

“Well which is it? Stop talking or start talking?”

“Enough with the sass - ”

“I’m late, does that make you happy?!” 

“Not particularly, no!” Percy shouted before halting, taking a deep, calming breath and letting it out slowly as he stood before her. They couldn’t both be losing their heads, and as much as he was panicking at the thought of an intelligent and chaotic baby looming on the horizon, at least he wasn’t the one who’d have to give birth. “Have you taken a test?” 

“No,” she answered, resuming her nail biting. 

“Have you told Fred?” he asked.

“No.”

Percy exhaled slowly, compartmentalizing and quickly delegating tasks. The first step was to purchase a pregnancy test, and Percy had stood in the same aisle of the pharmacy a healthy distance away, lest bystanders think that he had any involvement in Hermione’s purchase whatsoever. They’d returned afterwards to her flat, Hermione had locked herself in the bathroom, and had then shortly returned with a timer and a white stick to resume her nervous pacing about the living room. 

Meanwhile, Percy remained stationary on the couch, already gauging which careful reaction to use depending on Hermione’s response to the results. 

“I mean,” Hermione continued to babble, waving the kitchen timer about with one hand as she stared anxiously at the stick in her other. “On the one hand - much too soon. Far, far too soon - we haven’t even discussed if we want children.” 

Percy hummed, biting back his input as he picked up the box that the test had come in to glance over the instructions. Hermione had triple checked before disappearing into the bathroom, yet he needed something to capture his attention aside from the witch that was wearing a rut in her own rug. She was making him motion sick. 

“On the other hand,” Hermione continued as she pivoted. “We’re both fully capable, mature, responsible adults that can speak about this rationally.” 

Percy glanced at her over his glasses before quickly resuming staring at the woman on the box, holding her rotund belly and miming a gasp of surprise. He had a few thoughts concerning the word ‘mature’ in connection with Fred, but those were quickly replaced as to why the woman on the box would need to purchase a pregnancy test when it was abundantly clear that she was pregnant. Did she not own a mirror? Did she, perhaps, never feel the need to glance down at her feet? He had some thoughts to share with whomever had designed the packaging. 

“Besides, my mum has been begging for grandchildren,” Hermione insisted with a snort, squinting at the little window in the midst of the plastic stick. “It increased when she met Fred - she thinks he’s charming . Prat.” 

“Fred is charming - it’s his worst quality,” Percy interjected dully. “How do you think you’ll do if there's more than one baby?” At her silence, Percy glanced up into her stricken, pale face. “For Merlin’s sake, did you not think of that one? Fred’s a twin, Hermione!” 

“They skip a generation!” she shouted, her voice pitching upwards in her panic as Percy dragged his hands down his face. This visit was not at all progressing as he’d intended. 

“That’s an old wives’ tale! Our uncles were twins! They run in the family!” he groaned, throwing himself backwards to lay dramatically against the couch. “Here’s the plan. I have a heart attack, you bury me six feet under, and I never have to deal with you ever again.” 

Hermione scoffed, shifting her weight to one leg as she glared at him. “I’m sorry, but until I receive the results of this test, only one of us can be dramatic and it will be me.” 

Before Percy could open his mouth, the Floo had ignited. Knowing that whoever it was would not maintain as level of a head as he was, Percy jumped to his feet as Hermione dashed into the bathroom to slam the door behind her. Before the visitor had fully emerged from the emerald flames, Percy had chucked the box for the pregnancy test under a throw pillow. 

“Fred! Hey!” he nearly shouted, wincing at his own volume as his brother glanced up from dusting himself off. Fred looked to him curiously, an upwards tilt to his mouth as he looked at him in amusement. “Fancy seeing you here!” 

“I know, what are the odds that I’d show up at my girlfriend’s flat?” he asked with a grin, nearing him and placing his hands in his pockets as his head twisted this way and that. “Hermione around?” 

“Errr - ” 

At his utterance, Fred turned to look at him once more, his brows quirking in confusion as Percy pressed his lips together. 

“I don’t know where she isn’t,” he attempted, grimacing when Fred crossed his arms over his chest and stared blankly at him. He was always dreadful at lying - misdirections were as close as he could get, and even then he wasn’t very good at them when he was on the spot. 

“Uh-huh,” Fred said unconvincingly, gauging Percy’s expression with a narrowed gaze. “Everything alright?” 

“Everyone’s healthy, as far as I know,” he answered, wincing when Fred’s grin grew wider. 

“Right,” Fred intoned slowly, circling around Percy as he hummed. “So have you seen Hermione today?” 

“Yes,” Percy answered just as slowly, twisting and turning his head about as he attempted to track Fred’s movements. 

Fred only hummed, standing still for a moment to scratch his chin, before jerking his head over his shoulder towards the coffee table. “What’s with the timer?” 

Inwardly cursing at the pair of them forgetting that, Percy glanced at the device and saw the seconds counting down. “Ohh - well, you see, what happened was - ”

“Oh, this will be good,” Fred declared with an eager grin, shifting his weight as he settled into place for the show. 

Percy heaved a monumental sigh, chewing the inside of his cheek before he decided to throw caution to the wind. Whether it was convincing or not, he only needed to stall Fred for just a few moments more. “Hermione was attempting to use a new product, so she summoned me for assistance but I certainly have no idea about anything pertaining to the nature of the product itself, so I’ve mostly just been here for moral support.” 

After a moment or two, Fred blinked, tilting his head and arching a brow as he mulled over what Percy had said. Percy, while his brother was busy in doing so, counted down the minute that remained. 

“What, like - a hair product or something?” 

“Erm - ”

“What’s she doing with her hair?” 

“Well - ”

“Oh,” Fred donned a sour look on his face before huffing in irritation and staring at the ceiling in slight annoyance. “Did that awful old hag at Hogsmeade say something to her about her hair again? I keep telling Hermione to ignore her.” 

“What old hag?” Percy asked instead. This was the first he was hearing of an old hag from Hogsmeade, and judging by Fred’s demeanor it was a subject that was relatively sore with the pair of them. 

“Well, it’s not the landlord, but the landlord’s - aunt? Mother? Gran? Anyway - some relation to the landlord, she’s very old and hates Hermione’s hair,” he explained with a derisive snort. “She also just doesn’t like Hermione. The landlord said that once we start moving in, then we’ll see less of the old crone. I say ‘good riddance,’ personally.” 

Percy hummed, only half listening as he stared at the digital numbers before he caught on to a snippet of information. “Wait - did you say ‘we’ just then?” 

It was Fred’s turn to fall silent, staring wide-eyed at Percy’s face as his jaw slowly dropped in stunned surprise.

“Hermione Jean Granger!” Percy yelled, pivoting on his heel and marching to the bathroom door. “Are you moving in with my brother and didn’t tell me?! ”

“Oh my God, Percy, not now,” she moaned, muffled through both the door and her hands. “What’s the timer say?” 

“Yes now - what else have you been keeping from me?” he asked, hands on his hips as he glared at the doorknob. 

“Percy. Timer.”

“I don’t know - thirty seconds? Plenty of time to tell me other information that I need to know!”

The knob rattled and the door opened in a flurry, Hermione’s hardened face staring back as she glared up at him. 

“Do not take that tone of voice with me right now,” she hissed, huffing irritably at him. Her breath fogged up his glasses, but only momentarily. “You weren’t told because we haven’t told anyone yet.”

Percy stared at her, gauging her authenticity before glancing over his shoulder to find Fred. His eyes were wide, his hand clutching at his hair as he grimaced at the pair. At the expression, Percy softened, glancing between the two before he placed his hands on the door trim to lean against as he looked curiously down at Hermione.

“Ginny?” 

“No,” Hermione answered with a sigh. 

“Ron?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Harry?” 

“Also no.” 

Percy paused, biting the tip of his tongue as he glanced back to Fred, arching his brow and watching as Fred scrubbed his hands down his face. “And George…?”

“Will murder me if he knows that you found out first,” Fred groaned before flopping into the couch. 

Percy briefly felt pleased at being the first to know something, especially considering how he often felt that there were always others that took precedence when it came to his close friendships. 

That was quickly squashed, however, when Fred’s landing was marked by a loud noise of cardboard collapsing in on itself and the timer announcing its completion, all in one. 

Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth, closing her eyes in mortification as Fred’s arm immediately dove underneath the throw pillow to inspect whatever had made the noise. 

Percy paled, gaping at her in horror. 

For a few long moments that seemed to drag on for years, nobody spoke. 

Haltingly, Percy turned to see Fred, sitting upright on the couch, staring at the crushed box in his hand with a blank, unseeing look on his face. Part of him wanted to laugh at the expression, yet he was startled from doing so by Hermione gently placing a hand on his arm. 

“You’ve been more than enough help,” she murmured with a gentle, nervous smile. “But I think you should go home.” 

“Right,” he whispered, ducking his head and making his way back towards the Floo. He glanced to Fred again as he donned his shoes, but Fred was only staring back at Hermione like he was seeing her for the first time. Hermione, who’d moved to the back of the couch, pressed her lips into a tight smile and nodded Percy along. 

When Percy stepped out on the other side of the Floo and the resulting flames had died down, he anxiously flexed his hands. 

He didn’t know what the results of the test were. 

As the potential future uncle who’d dealt with Hermione’s anxieties up until Fred had arrived, he felt as though he deserved to know. 

Yet, he wouldn’t pry - despite how much he wanted to. 

For a few days afterwards, things were silent from Fred as well as Hermione. He kept his mind busy as best as he could, but he had several questions that were going unanswered, and that sort of thing aggravated him. During lulls at work between filing papers, Percy would muse over the potential outcomes of the conversation he had not been privy to - if they’d had a mature conversation or a screaming match, if they’d planned out their future together or had decided to play it by ear. Occasionally he’d have the thought that their silence was part of some decision to split up due to a horrendous miscommunication, but he quickly talked himself out of such a silly notion. 

He was going batty from wondering about the test results more so than his brother and friend’s relationship.

He was silent throughout the family dinner, watching the way that Hermione questioned Charlie about his dragons and reserve and how Fred and George gave Harry a hard time over something that the Aurors department had done. At several points of the meal, he’d thought that they would stand up and make some sort of announcement, but it never came. His attempts at questioning glances at either of them were vastly ignored, and he’d stood from the table with an internal huff before thanking his mother for the meal and insisting that it was getting rather late, and he needed to head home. 

Before he could gather his coat and shoes, two grips had taken hold of his arms and whisked him away through the Floo, where he was deposited unceremoniously onto a familiar couch. 

“You couldn’t have waited until I’d gotten my shoes?” he asked irritably as Hermione sat down primly on one side of him. 

“You were in too much of a hurry,” Fred said with a grin as he flopped into the other side, grinning from ear to ear as Percy narrowed his gaze and began to study him. “Hermione has a question for you, don’t you, Love?”

“Several, actually,” she began, curling into the corner of the couch and smiling back at him as he turned his attention to her. “Are you quite happy at the Ministry?” 

Blinking in surprise at the sudden capture and oddity of the question, Percy snorted. “What sort of question is that?” 

“One that you should answer before we proceed,” she hummed, tugging a throw pillow into her lap as she knocked her knee into his arm goodnaturedly.

Percy stared back at her, attempting to decipher her motive, before sighing. “It pays the bills.” 

“Oh, he hates it there,” Fred translated, chuckling at the glare that Percy tossed at him over his shoulder. 

“Would you be interested in assisting me at the bookshop?” she asked with a beaming smile. “I know that becoming an assistant manager of a dinky bookshop in Hogsmeade isn’t your life’s ambition, but there isn’t anyone else I’d rather choose for the position.” 

Percy gaped, truly taken aback by the question before stuttering and starting, “I - yes! Are you sure?” 

“She wouldn’t have asked if she weren’t,” Fred pointed out. 

“Excellent,” she said with a clap, smiling from ear to ear as she tucked her socked feet beneath his leg for warmth - or perhaps as some form of representation of closeness. Likely more so for warmth. “I’ll allow you time to get everything in order at the Ministry then!” 

Percy nodded, smiling himself, before the silence dragged on. He found himself glancing between the pair, who were having some sort of silent conversation over him, before eventually curiosity got the best of him and he huffed in annoyance. “Enough - what were the results of your pregnancy test?” 

“Hah!” Fred crowed, throwing himself back into the other corner of the couch as he grinned wickedly at Hermione while her expression turned sour. “Five Galleons, pay up.” 

“Prat,” she huffed. Whether she were talking to himself or Fred, Percy wasn’t entirely sure, yet he only stared insistently at her, determined to receive an answer. “Well, the pregnancy test that you and I purchased wasn’t entirely clear.” 

“That’s what you get for buying one without me,” Fred muttered, grinning when Hermione threw a glare in his direction. 

“That’s what we get for buying a pregnancy test with an obviously pregnant woman on the front of it,” Percy said as he led back into the cushions, pivoting between the two before he gestured for her to continue. 

“In any case, I went to both a Muggle doctor and a magical healer,” she said, tapping off against her fingers before biting her lip self consciously. “I just - wanted to cover all bases.” 

“The Muggle one got us in that day while the healer had us wait three days,” Fred pointed out before huffing an amused yet overwhelmingly fond laugh. “And Hermione wanted to cover all bases.” 

“And I asked - there is no such thing as having a genetic predisposition for twins,” Hermione insisted. 

“Yet there’s been George and I, Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon, great Gran and her sister - ”

“ Scientifically - ”

“ - says the witch - ”

“Guys,” Percy chided with a groan, tilting his head back to glare at the ceiling. “Get on with it, will you?” 

When he lifted his head to look between the pair of them again, they were smiling back at him. 

Despite his initial reaction to Hermione’s mention of a probable pregnancy, Percy could only find utter elation as his only emotion. He did not think of the twin tornadoes that Fred and George had been at such a young age (and into adulthood) or all of the babies and toddlers that he’d helped care for when he was just a child himself. Instead, he thought of two of his favorite people and the impending arrival of a new addition to his tiny horde of favorite people. 

Percy grinned, towing Hermione into his side and hugging her tightly. The two were silent for a long time, even Fred allowing them the heartfelt moment before Percy slightly pulled away, looked into her eye, and smirked back at her. 

“What?” Hermione asked curiously. 

“I told you that I wasn’t being silly,” he reminded her, grinning when she sighed and tipped her head in acknowledgement. She knew, as well as he did, that neither she nor Fred were likely to part ways any time soon, if ever. Meanwhile, Fred looked on in slight confusion, but mostly admiration judging by the smile on his face. 

A few months, a move and an engagement ring later, and Fred was in on the joke anyway.