Twisted

Heronmy_Weasley

Story Summary:
Hermione has a birthday surprise for Ron. Ron has one for her. And the twins have one for the both of them. This doesn't bode well.

Chapter 01

Posted:
05/23/2006
Hits:
771


Hermione had just settled into her favourite chair when the muted pop of Apparition drew her attention. She glanced at her watch, shocked that Ron was returning home so early. Before she could say anything, she heard a second pop, and she bit back a sigh of frustration. It wasn't Ron after all, then. In fact, the only people she knew that Apparated into the flat within seconds of each other were -

"You can't hide from us, Hermione -"

"- Yeah, we can see your hair a bit, creeping up over the chair."

The twins. Eyes narrowed, she stood up and turned to face them. They stood side-by-side in the foyer in the yellow robes they wore while at their joke shop.

"Oi, there she is -"

"- Our favourite non-Weasley and tenant!"

Hermione relaxed a little at those words. When Ron had taken a post as the Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts, she and Ron had been at a loose end as far as living quarters. The castle was out of the question as it was considered "a bad example" to have an unmarried couple sharing space by the Board of Governors. The flats in London were cramped, dirty, and more than a little bit expensive, in Hermione's view.

When the twins offered to rent them the space above the shop, it seemed ideal; the flat was roomy, comfortable and quiet. It was economical, too: Though the war had ended three years before, there was still much rebuilding to do and the wizarding economy had yet to recover. Ron was working for very minimal salary and at best, she was getting sporadic assignments transcribing interviews for the Ministry's War Archiving Project.

At first, Ron had been dead set against having his brothers as landlords, but it had all worked pretty well so far, except that Fred and George did have an annoying habit of dropping in unannounced, usually to check on the Muggle appliances they'd installed in the place. Hermione often considered tweaking the wards, but it seemed to her a rude thing to lock the twins out of their own property. She resolved to revisit the idea, however, when and if the twins ever interrupted her and Ron while they were ... busy.

"Ronniekins is still at school?"

"Yes. His last class isn't for another hour." Hermione looked from one face to the other, noticing that the twins seemed quite serious. "Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong? No." George cleared his throat. "But, er ... Fred and I have been meaning to ask - you do know what next Wednesday is, yeah?"

"Next Wed ... oh! Yes, of course. It's Ron's birthday." She smiled a little, thinking of their plans to celebrate. She had managed to squirrel away a few galleons, and she and Ron were going to take a long weekend in Muggle London. Perhaps that wasn't much of a holiday, but it had been Ron's idea, and Hermione was determined to make it as festive as she was able.

"You and Ronniekins don't have any plans, do you?"

"Oh ... well, for Wednesday we don't because he has to teach." she said. "We're planning on spending the weekend in Muggle London at this lovely inn -"

She stopped short at the twins' cries of dismay.

"Muggle London? Bloody hell, you can't go there this weekend -"

"- We've got a party planned -"

"A party?" Hermione took a step backward. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Ron nearly hexed me after what happened last year."

She shuddered at the memory of the "surprise" party the twins had thrown for Ron at the Burrow. It had started off all right in part because Hermione had inadvertently tipped Ron off to the proceedings. But then the odd things started happening. A parade of automated spiders had popped out of the cake, and later, a roast mutton exploded and showered hard candies everywhere, a few of them hitting Ron square in the face. Additionally, someone had spiked the mulled wine punch with something, and that had brought back awful memories, and Fleur's pretty cousins had come, and someone had forgotten to tell them that greeting the "birthday boy" by shaking their breasts in his face was just not on in this part of the world ...

"Right, but this isn't just any party," George said with a touch of indignation. "It's Ron's thirdieth!"

"Thirtieth?" Hermione looked confused. "Ron's only turning twenty-six."

The twins looked at each other and grinned. "No, no, T-H-I-R-D-I-E-T-H," Fred said. "It's a milestone for a wizard!"

Hermione sounded the word in her head, but couldn't make any sense of it. "Thirdieth? What in the world does that mean?"

"Long time ago, some intelligent bloke reckoned that the average life expectancy for a wizard was about seventy-eight years," George said. "So he started this tradition where a wizard throws a bash every time he reaches a third of that number."

"Strange thing was, poor bugger himself died when he was seventy-five," Fred said. "Never did get to have his last 'do."

"Right, anyway, when a bloke turns twenty-six, he's gotten through the first third of his life," George went on. "At fifty-two, it's the second third, and seventy-eight is the last. It's like coming of age, in a way, every twenty-six years."

Hermione mulled that a moment. There were still aspects of Wizarding culture that were a mystery to her - not many, but there were a few - but she couldn't remember reading anything about this "thirdieth" business. Furthermore, seventy-eight seemed an awfully low life-expectancy number for the average wizard ...

"I don't remember the two of you having any such celebration," she said eyeing them narrowly. "And I can't recall anything of the sort in any of the books I read -"

"Us? We turned twenty-six right as the war was getting toward the end," George said quietly. "Not exactly a time for a party."

"Oh ... I- I ..." She flushed crimson, hating herself for having brought up such a sore subject. "I didn't mean -"

"And when Perce turned twenty-six, he was still arsing around with Scrimgeour and those crooks," said Fred with a shrug. "Last Weasley bloke to have a thirdieth was Charlie, way back when."

"As for books, not sure if it is in any books, but it's been such a tradition that it might've been dropped out," George said. "Though we could owl Bill about it. He's mad for tradition and that. He had a thirdieth that nearly brought the Burrow down. Bill had a few friends from Egypt over and they brought some real corking presents. Took Dad a week to get the roof back on straight."

Hermione smiled nervously, thanking Merlin that Ron had no friends in Egypt. "It sounds ... festive."

"It's a great time. There're presents and liquor and plenty of food. Mum's been planning for months," said Fred. "We were by the Burrow yesterday and saw that she'd started stockpiling pumpkin mush for the pasties and all. Ron'll be the last Weasley bloke to have a thirdieth at twenty-six. He can't skip out on his own party!"

"But we're only going away for the weekend. If the party is on Wednesday, I don't see why -"

"Er, well, that's thing ..." George sounded almost apologetic. "Mum figured Ron would have to be with the sprogs on his actual birthday, plus Bill's bringing Fleur and Etienne down this weekend, so Mum and Dad thought it'd be better to have it Saturday."

"And it's a party that lasts until dawn, at least," Fred put in. "Mum's been making up all the rooms, figuring everyone'll be too knackered to go right home afterward."

"So we need you to keep Ronniekins around without letting on what's going on, of course -"

"- Not that it's a surprise party or anything," Fred said hurriedly. "We know how he feels about those -"

"- But Ron probably thinks we've forgotten all about what a special birthday it is, and it'll be fun to see his face when he walks up to the Burrow and sees the bottle of Ogden's on the doorstep."

Hermione frowned. "Bottle of -?"

"That's to let the neighbours know that there's a bloke inside having a thirdieth," explained George. "Let's them know that there's free food and drink to be had, too."

"Right, so if you could find a way to postpone your trip -"

"-Without letting Ron or anyone else know that we've had this talk -"

"- You'll be making a lot of people happy: our mum, our dad, Ronniekins -"

"- And about three dozen other people looking to get pissed on good mulled wine."

"I see." Sighing, Hermione wandered over to the window and looked out onto the quiet street. Ron had been so eager to get away. It was all he'd been able to talk about for the past few days, and she felt a great trepidation at disappointing him. It had taken Ron a while to settle into the rhythm of teaching, and though now he was quite used to it, he often arrived home tired and a bit out of sorts. A holiday seemed just what he needed.

On the other hand, Hermione couldn't imagine disappointing Molly and Arthur. There hadn't been any sort of large-scale celebration since Ginny and Harry had gotten married two years before. If this thirdieth birthday business was as important as the twins were making it out to be, it would be almost a crime to keep Ron from experiencing it. They could go to Muggle London any time, but a milestone of this sort was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Hermione wondered why Ron hadn't mentioned anything about it himself; perhaps, she thought as she turned back to Fred and George, Ron had forgotten about it himself. If that were the case, it would be a lovely surprise and not at all like the horrible mess that had taken place last year.

"All right. I'll do it," she said, biting her lower lip. "I'm not sure how, but I'll come up with some excuse as to why we can't go to London this weekend."

"Brilliant! Mum and Dad'll be chuffed," Fred said, grinning widely. "We'll pop round right now and tell her it's all a go."

Hermione nodded, already trying to formulate a decent excuse for Ron that wouldn't be a total lie. "Does she need any help? I'm not very busy at all."

"Cor, no! She'd go mad if she knew we'd told anyone about it -"

"- Right. She wants to keep it quiet, and that. Hasn't even mentioned it to Ginny, 'cause she thought Gin'd tell Harry -"

"- Besides, you're being a great help in keeping Ronniekins around -"

"- And in the dark," said George, nodding slowly. "That's the biggest job of all, keeping still about all this. Though don't worry; soon as he sees the bottle of mead on the threshold, he'll know what it's all about."

"Mead? I thought it was Ogden's."

"Er ... it can be either one," Fred said with a somewhat nervous chuckle. "Mead's for those who don't want to spend the Galleons. Don't worry, though. We're going to do right by our little brother. But remember - not a word, yeah?"

"I won't say anything," she murmured, deep in thought. Well, maybe this won't be so bad. I'll be able to give him his gift at the party instead of waiting until Wednesday. Hermione almost groaned when she considered all the Owling she'd have to do to make that happen. Oh, well. In the end, it will make Ron happy and that's all that matters.

"Right, well, we'd better get back to the shop -"

"- We're having a half-price sale on the Skiving Snackboxes. They're flying off the shelves. Thanks again, Hermione. You've no idea what a help you've been!"

Hermione echoed their goodbyes, turning toward her writing desk with purpose. It would take the rest of the afternoon to write the necessary letters, and the sooner she got started, the better. She was so intent on her task that she didn't notice Fred and George in the foyer falling all over each other in silent laughter before they managed to pull themselves together enough to Disapparate away.