Author's Note:

I apologise once again that it's taken so long for this chapter to be Posted. It just wouldn't work, as I've mentioned before, but I think I'm –happy- now with it.

I'm afraid I'm completely tired out over this chapter, so I can't really say much more about it. But, thank you for everyone who waited (im)patiently for it.

And as always, I will be keeping –notes- of what stage I am on each chapters that I am continuing in my Profile Page. Please keep an eye on that to be updated.

'Just need bloody tutus,' muttered George, slumping even further into the ground as he rolled his eyes.

His twin snorted, earning him the slightest squeeze of disproval from Oliver.

'Tutus, huh?' said Fred, head slightly cocked as the grip from Oliver... 'What? He's obviously been hiding something from us. Other than the chocolate.'

'Have one of those shops one town over,' continued on George. 'We could go dance around while we wait for Speckles to get off her ass and answer.'

'She knows exactly what days are set aside for IT,' cut in Charlie softly, though his Tone... Sometimes Hermione wondered exactly how he managed that. How to keep his Tone remaining strong but at the same time... His voice heavy with a warning that if either of the twins attempted –something- again... He may just allow Bill to carry out his threats. 'She'll answer.'

And sometimes why Charlie didn't-

'Oh, we know that she won't have left the grounds,' interrupted Fred's voice. 'Stay close to her rooms so that she –catches- the Spark.'

'Question still remains when she'll eventually get –around- to opening the Connection from her side,' added George, body slightly twisting in order to avoid the next physical –persuasion- from Oliver to behave.

'So the tutus?' spoke up Lee, raising an eyebrow.

'Have to do –something- while we bloody well wait,' replied George. 'Might as well dance.'

'Would boost morale and serotonin,' said Fred, mouth twisting into what could be vaguely be termed as a smile but... 'And all that good stuff.'

'Still doesn't explain the tutus,' said Lee.

'The tutus aren't necessary,' said George, 'but would be a nice... added touch.'

'She'll be answering soon,' said Charlie. 'We shouldn't wander far.'

The slightest narrowing of George's eyes, but thankfully... It didn't appear to be directed at anyone in particular.

'And if we just –have- to be kept amused,' said Oliver, 'then it can't be by going to a tutu shop one town over.'

'All of us must be here when she Connects,' said Charlie.

'Even if it takes her the rest of the day?' muttered Fred.

'Won't take her that long,' said Charlie.

'The tutus are really not necessary?' said Oliver with a snort. 'You sure?'

'No,' hissed George. 'Just be a nice accessory while we dance.'

The nip he received from Oliver's fingers could hardly have caused him any –real- discomfort but George... For a moment, Hermione almost thought that he'd actually hit Oliver. That he'd-

But Charlie... Thank Merlin for Charlie. One glance from Charlie, and George's hand... fell back to his sides.

'Well then,' said Lee, 'we'll get the tutus later. Any particular colour or design you're thinking of for yourself? Pink maybe?'

'You're seriously getting him a tutu?' said Fred, raising an eyebrow at this latest... –quirk- of his twin.

'It'd have to match yours, of course,' said Lee. 'How you feeling towards pink?'

'Only if Hermione gets the same,' said George.

'What?' said Lee. 'Three peas in pods?'

'Four if you'd prefer,' said George. 'Want to join?'

'And make a fool out of myself like you two?' said Lee. '-I- at least know how to not just wave my arms and legs about, hitting everyone around me.'

'No girl has ever complained when dancing with either of us,' muttered Fred, lips twitching and yet... Could that be...? Could this be enough? Such a round-about way, with Lee picking out one little –word- of George's and from there...?

The twins had swayed before, with such a little –bump- in the right direction. And almost always...that had been down to Lee poking out the twin's sense of humour.

But that didn't mean... Hermione could be fooling herself. Just imagining that –slight- hint of amusement within Fred's voice because she wanted... She –needed- to have the twins able to handle IT with at least...- their- brand of light-heartedness.

'Even after you've stepped on their foot for the fifth time?' said Oliver. 'Heard quite a few rumours after that –last- incident.'

'We heard no formal complaints,' said Fred, with a slight shrug.

'Really?' said Oliver. 'They all seemed quite vocal.'

'Had no reason to be,' said George. 'And they were so suitably overcome with our greatness -and- being one of the few to dance with one of the twins-'

'Or both,' added Fred.

Oliver snorted.

'Hardly an honour,' he muttered.

'How would you know?' said George. 'You aren't a girl.'

'And it was the other –boys- that were jealous,' said Fred. 'They just –picked- on one or two unrelated incidents.'

'Are you not telling us something, Oli?' said George.

Rolling his eyes, Oliver snorted again.

'Fuck you,' he said. 'You've seen me changing too often.'

Raising his hand, he pointed a finger accusingly at the twins.

'And the entire –incident- with Hermione did not involve a –few- grumbles,' Oliver continued.

'I did not step on her foot!' said George, straightening his body so that stare directly at Hermione. 'Tell them I didn't!'

'I...' said Hermione, forced to lick her lips at-

'You were threatened with losing your own foot,' said Oliver.

'A simple jest,' said George. 'She didn't mean it.'

'Not what I heard,' muttered Oliver.

'What's said during a Truth and Dare Game,' replied George, '-remains- in a Truth and Dare Game.'

And –there-... It could almost be viewed as a whine. A childish almost playful Tone that Hermione... Hermione didn't hear often. Or at least, often enough.

Fred snorted, doing an almost... foot shuffle with what could only be described as his arms doing an erratic windmill motion. And then did another shimmy back towards Hermione's direction.

'You've obviously forgotten that one with-' said Lee.

'Over there!' cut in Charlie's voice, tinged with... laughter? Charlie chuckling in relief ? At the simple fact that Lee...? And so Lee felt that he had enough –room- to tease. 'For Merlin's sake, Fred. You'll hit someone!'

'Just pulling Hermione up,' answered Fred, suddenly right in Hermione's space. Leaning over with his hand extended and all Hermione could see... was him. 'Up you come Mione.'

Hermione's lips trembled as her gaze... turned to Charlie. She'd been put here for a reason. With Bill barely able to keep his temper, to not use his words and physical self to build up yet another argument if brought back into the conversation, Hermione's purpose for being sat next to him... To move her, might-

'If either of you still -remember- how to dance,' spoke up Oliver's voice.

'Still can dance,' replied Fred, head's turned to glare at him.

'George can't,' said Oliver.

'Not asking you to dance with me,' replied George. 'Unless your own dancing has improved.'

Fred snorted.

'If Mione wishes to dance near Fred,' said Charlie.

'Near?' interrupted Fred.

'You have a different style of dancing other than windmill arms and shuffling your feet?' said Lee.

'We're all talented in our own ways,' said Fred.

'Then go ahead, Mione,' continued on Charlie, sending a small smile her way to... A physical addition to his words. The extra needed little push for Hermione, to let her know that everything was under control and so she... If she wanted to, if she wanted to take a break from the earlier arguments, from IT, then she could...

Then she could dance with Fred. Only Hermione had very rarely found any-

'Promise I'm not as heavy footed as George,' said Fred, hand still extended and his head tilted to undoubtedly encourage Hermione to accept. And Hermione... What real reason did she have to refuse? With Fred and George in such a better mood, to-

'Oi!' hissed George, aborting some kind of sharp move with his arm to instead whack his twin's back. The slightest bounce of Fred's feet barely gave George the initial shock before Fred stood on the other side of Hermione and stuck his tongue out at his twin.

'And I won't hit you,' added Fred, 'no matter what Charlie might imply.'

'Do you even –have- an entire shop full of chocolate to make up for it when you do?' said Oliver.

'They've been saving,' spoke up Lee. 'Just in case.'

Hermione couldn't keep herself from glancing over at Lee. Not once she heard those words; the underlying warning Lee had threading underneath them. Not when Lee felt that he had to pull Oliver back from going too far moments after this... –truce-.

But then Fred's hand curled around hers. The smallest of tugs, pulling Hermione up to her knees and as she gazed up at him, she discovered that Fred had collapsed his body into a bow. One that could almost be a complete replica of those gentlemen, those lords, in the historical movies and books that Hermione would never admit that she watched willingly with the rest of her Comforts, or ever read in the past. Only, Fred ruined it with his slight smile, though honestly... Maybe it would be more viewed as a smirk?

Only the thought had barely registered before Fred had her on her feet, his hand slipping into her own grasp, his other arm gently cradled around her back and his left hand resting on her hip. The tiniest of squeezes, then with a soft push, Hermione took the first step, and then another. A turn on the balls of her feet to change direction and then the two repeated the sequence again. Before Hermione knew it, they'd done an entire circle of the clearing and Fred almost immediately led her into another.

After that, Hermione lost track of the rounds, and her surroundings. She knew her Comforts flashed past her in a whir of colours and soft conversations, but Fred kept most of her attention with his... He just couldn't remain in the perfect characterization of a high status man, needing to add face gestures (complete with sticking out his tongue and going cross-eyed), little jigs during the small pause before they swayed into the next step, not to mention the songs he hummed loudly.

Hermione had quite a good feeling that Aerosmith's –Cryin'- didn't work with any kind of classical dance, but Fred really tried to make it.

Only, just as Fred finished that note at the end of the chorus for the final time, his hand moved. He untangled his fingers from hers, Curling his hand around either side of Hermione's, loosely holding her in that grip as the arm along her back also changed position. Slipped until he had his other hand gently pressed up against her back and then-

Twirling. One full spin, and then a second. Fred going for a third circle and only then did it end. Hermione gasping for breath, pressed up against Fred's chest just long enough for Hermione to close her eyes to regain some kind of balance, only for Fred... Loosening his grip, Hermione fell back into the cradle of his arms in what could loosely be called a dip.

'So?' said Fred, slight hitch to his own voice as he gazed down at her with twinkling blue eyes and that grin... The grin that had always gotten him into trouble. A grin that –proved- to everyone around him (and his twin) that they had done something that would get them into trouble, or were about to. 'What do you think of my dancing?'

'Hardly the right time to ask her!' called out George with a snort. 'She's all dizzy!'

'Aw,' said Fred, re-adjusting his grip slightly on her as Hermione... No, might be better if Hermione closed her eyes for a bit. Then maybe her surroundings would stop whooshing around her. 'She'll be fine a minute. Won't you Mione? We're just out of practice.'

'Out of practice?' echoed George with a chuckle. 'You, maybe. But Mione...'

'Bill's been making sure that Mione never has to worry about –that-,' spoke up Lee.

'Had her doing the waltz and some kind of whacky Pop Dance in the kitchen only two weeks before,' added Oliver as Fred's body suddenly stiffened, eyes narrowing at the mention of-

'Weasleys,' cut in a new Female's voice, and for a moment...

For a moment, Hermione feared that –this- interruption would cause Fred to drop her. The clutches of his fingers against her back, his elbows stuck out at the side all began trembling as if Fred had lost control and...

But no, Fred wouldn't do that. He wouldn't let any harm come to her, even if with this woman interrupting the small break of calmness. Fred almost always-

'McGonagall,' replied Charlie in a calm voice from off to Hermione's right somewhere.

'Speckles,' added George with a snort, and his Tone... not as friendly. Not as nice and echoing the body language of his twin.

'Professor,' interrupted Lee before George could continue his round of –hissing-, Lee's air of –defiance- not geared towards Speckles but at the twins. Lee's own –view- of their Old Professor couldn't interfere with...

All of the earlier smiles and giddiness disappeared in a blink of an eye with the arrival of their Counterpart for IT.

'I appear to have interrupted something,' continued on the voice.

'No, replied Charlie, voice still light and steady as Fred closed his eyes momentarily, before slowly pulling her back to her feet. As Hermione leant up against Fred, Fred's arm wrapped around her waist, she glanced over into the middle of the clearing, or more specifically the Female's head within the large smoking ball of white wisps. 'No, we were just passing time with a little dancing.'

And dancing hardly counted as anything to be used against Hermione and her Comforts. Nothing there for Speckles to have caught, even if the witch had kept quiet and just watched them for several minutes. So for once...

But none of that mitigated the fact that the Group hadn't had heard the –click- of the Connection between themselves and Speckles through Smoke And Mirrors. Just because they had settled in an area that had only felt the slightest of ripples of the War (the disappearance of a suspected wizard, according to what Bill and the twins had managed to dig up) three towns over, never meant that the Darkness didn't encroach closer and closer. Or, at least, not yet. Undoubtedly too soon, the barrens of this area of Scotland would feel the effects, even if it simply was to act as somewhere to 'flee' by either Side, or an unexpected –meeting- between the two, resulting in a...

Hermione shivered.

Undoubtedly not so far along in the future, one of her Comforts would return from their Patrol, and it wouldn't be a piece of clothing or an item they'd be hiding behind their back of the World they had left behind (dropped when one of Them flew overhead), but information of a growing spectacle occurring nearby. And those hissing words of previous discussions over the safety of where the Group lived would return but this time much more urgent; more frantic. And much more likely that this time Hermione and her Comforts would move somewhere else. Somewhere...

But could there be anywhere left in the United Kingdom that could be considered safe, if the Group's little sanctuary became tainted?

'Dancing?' echoed Speckles, the slightest narrowing of her eyes at... When had it been the last time Speckles had –come upon- them for IT with the Group in an apparent –light- enough mood to...? Simply taking the IT the year before as an example had begun with the scene of Charlie physically restraining Bill (to keep the latter from attacking Lee) and had ended... even worse.

'A fun little exercise,' replied George, head ever so slightly tilted as he stared dead on at Speckles. 'We like to actually live.'

The softest of snorts from Fred in agreement, a puff of air against her cheek, as he gently pulled her back a few steps. Slightly difficult when her feet tangled up with his, but Fred somehow kept his balance and all of a sudden... a hand clutched her leg. Not Fred's, his hands remained one around her waist, and the other resting against her hip, but with a glance down, Hermione realised...

Fred had positioned them in between George and Lee, with it being George who had his grip on her. To give her an added layer of –protection- against IT, even this early on, and in return, George had... a reason to hold his temper in as best he could.

'Pretending that there is nothing to worry about does not –increase- your chances in living,' Speckles said, voice once again thick with her Scottish brogue as she...

Did Speckles still truly believe that none of the Group knew how temporary their current situation was? They'd managed to escape the War for over two years but at some point... It would crash upon them and force Hermione and her Comforts to... take the next step. One that Hermione hoped...

No matter what happened, they couldn't go back. Hermione couldn't. She had nothing to go –back- to, and from what they had heard from last year's IT... Nothing would be gained by returning to That Place.

The Group's only –real- option was to...

Hermione shivered, almost instantly answered with Fred drawing her even closer against him as George's hand shifted up to curve around her free hip.

'Remaining in Hogwarts hardly does that either,' said George.

Something hissed off to her side, another reprimand from Lee over George's... Tone? His words? Lowering the chances of this IT not resulting in a screaming match between them and Speckles. Again.

'There are Wards surrounding Hogwarts,' said Speckles. 'Numbers for protection-'

'So there are –some- of you left then?' interrupted Fred with a slight snarl. 'After all of that fracas that happened to you last year, surprised you can gather enough of you to actually be able to fight off the Death Eaters.'

'We are still fighting,' said Speckles.

'But are you winning?' interrupted George, 'because the latest reports...'

Latest reports? But with so little of That World entering their peripheral vision, and even the resources that could provide the information were curtailed with restrictions so that none of them could by mistake listen/read it, how could...?

Hermione's body stiffened at that thought. Had her Comforts-?

'If you are depending on The Daily Prophet for the true story of the War-' snapped Speckles, nose quivering.

'Hardly!' snarled Fred. 'Why the fuck would we bother with –that- waste of paper!'

'It is either The Daily Prophet, The Quibbler or the radio you can go to for information!' said Speckles. 'Nothing else! And so unless you have managed to-!'

'We haven't gone anywhere near those precious channels of yours that you use to exchange information,' cut in George. 'Don't worry. We don't know about your latest plans.'

'All of those –attempts- remain safe among your Side,' added in Fred. 'We don't pay any of –them- any attention.'

'Waste of time,' said George. 'And we don't –need- them to know that you are losing.'

'Our use of the radio is for enjoyable matters,' said Fred. 'For dancing, for singing...'

'For some brilliant Sunday crime plays,' continued on George, head tilted as a smile...

Nothing like the one Hermione had been on the receiving end of while being whirled around the clearing by Fred. Or even the cutting smirk the twins had thrown at Speckles while greeting her. This one indulged an almost –glee- at the old-fashioned murder plays Hermione and her Comforts enjoyed in the comfort of their living room. A previous unknown...

But the two should have been cut off by now. Allowing this near free-spinning conversation as Fred and George bounced off each other could only result in this twisting into...

Glancing at Bill provided Hermione with a –bit- of reassurance. Bill... He didn't display any actual reaction to Fred and George, if anything... Bill's body remained stock still. No sign of emotions, not even a flicker of his lips. Just... nothing.

Not showing any lead up to wading into the situation, of erupting the level of tempers to unmanageable, just...

And none of it seemed to be down to Charlie, whose eyes appeared to be in the middle of some kind of visual conversation with Lee and Oliver. No apparent tracking of the twins' back-and-forth, though undoubtedly the three were discussing the entire problem. But Fred and George...

They needed tight restrictions when in this kind of mood and yet...

'Can't make anything worse for yourself and the rest,' crept back in Fred's voice.

'Might as well relax while you await the final chop,' said George.

'-We- will push against that possibility as far as possible,' interrupted Speckles, nose flaring as she glared down at the two.

'So you admit that there is no chance of you winning?' replied Fred.

'It's a possibility,' said Speckles. 'Not a certainty. –Nothing- is certain.'

'Keep telling yourself that,' growled George.

Fred snorted.

'Since all pleasantries have been exchanged,' interrupted the voice of Bill, eyes slightly narrowed and yet... Not completely confrontational. Not as –annoyed- as he'd displayed before towards Speckles, and yet- 'we should continue this Meeting.'

An old stern look, one that before might have actually cowed Hermione; caused the rest of her Comforts to actually back off. But... time remained a powerful ally, or enemy, and now... They'd faced worse, by ones who'd actually follow through with the threat of –pain- exhibited by their faces and...

Any of Speckles' words were now barricaded by space, and the fact that they as a group faced her. None of them were ever alone during these –talks-.

'There have been developments since we have spoken last?' spoke up Charlie, voice strong and heavy and displaying a command that... What Hermione described as Charlie's business Tone and so rare because even when Charlie took over to keep Bill and the twins from physically harming each other... He still sounded slightly Submissive, and reactionary. Handing out advice that he –strongly- hinted should be followed but at the same time... Charlie keeping his voice extremely careful so that at no point Bill could think he was being Challenged.

But towards Speckles... Speckles didn't count for such –careful- mannerisms.

'War never stays the same,' replied Speckles, 'and with a year there have been changes.'

'Good or bad?' said George.

'Probably bad,' muttered Fred, before his grip tightened on her and Hermione... She had to glance around to find the source. It didn't hurt, his fingers digging into her, but this reaction was noticed by any of her other Comforts...

Something else for Bill to add as the twin's fault, but... Not Bill glaring at the two, thank God, but Charlie... Charlie's reprimand.

'Might as well get this over with then,' said George as Fred grunted.

'We do have better and more productive things to do,' Fred added, earning him yet another Look from their older brother.

But still... every bit of their words was understandable. For Fred and George, if they had it their way, then IT would never play a part in the Group's lives anymore. Any information gained from these few hours exchanging of –ideas- never qualified to be worth the –pain- it caused them to remember... before.

'What is occurring during the War –is- productive for you to know,' cut in Speckles' voice, collected as always but... with an added hint of sharpness. 'No area of the United Kingdom remains safe.'