We Start and End with Family by Luvscharlie

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family." –Anthony Brandt

Part 1: Good Times in a Quiet House

"What is a home without children? Quiet." -- Henny Youngman

It had been a rough week for Hermione Weasley, and not for the first time in the past several days she wondered what exactly she had done to anger the gods so greatly they would curse her with twins. The twin daughters of Fred Weasley, no less. Whatever it was, surely she had paid penance by now.

She and Fred's four year old daughters had been particularly busy this week, and she had seen little of her husband. It was not uncommon for Fred to stay at the shop until the wee hours of morning when they were testing a new product, and during the past week, he and George had both worked round the clock on something they swore would make their business a household name in the Wizarding World. Thus, Hermione had been left to care for the children with very little help from their father.

There had been four separate trips to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, once for Emily and three times for Erin; two "small" explosions, which apparently were the fault of "no one", and "no one" seemed to know what had happened to cause said explosions. Her mother-in-law had been forced to Floo over to her home for four emergency calls, two of which were to remove Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans from Erin's nose, as one person could not hold the child down and work the required spell at the same time.

The first time, Molly had simply laughed before helping Hermione wrestle down the struggling four year old and removing the sweet, stating that George had done the same thing when he was a little boy. When she needed assistance two hours later to remove another sweet from the same child's nose, Molly had given her an exasperated look which she usually reserved for Fred or George and said, "Honestly dear, why don't you just put the sweets away?"

Oh, what a wonderful idea! Shame she had been too dense to think of it herself. Did the woman give her so little credit? "I tossed it all into the bin, and we went to meet Fred and George for lunch." One of the very rare occasions she had the opportunity to see her husband this week. "Apparently, my dear brother-in-law found it amusing and slipped her some more."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear." Molly kissed both small red heads, and gave the girls a bit of a stern look. "I have to go meet Grandad. Be good for your mum, you two."

Two deceptively angelic voices responded in unison, "We will, Nana."

Molly gave the girls a sceptical look, tossed a sympathetic one over her shoulder at Hermione, and hurried away.

But the final straw was at dinner this evening. After their lunch together, Fred had apparently come to the wise conclusion that working late again tonight would not be advisable, if he valued his wife's sanity. It seemed that "no one" was up to his (or her) old tricks again. One of the Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had found its way, as if by 'magic', into the pot of stew, which had inevitably made its way into Hermione's bowl and exploded in the middle of dinner covering her in stew. Rather than scream, Hermione simply put her head down on the table and cried.

She felt Fred's hand touch her shoulder. "Why don't you catch a shower, while I take care of the mess?"

No need to tell her twice. She bolted for the shower seeking solace beneath the hot water. She would have lingered under the spray longer, but the water cooled much too quickly and a warming charm failed to heat it. She got out, cast a drying spell on her hair and skin, put on a pair of pyjamas and padded down the hallway. She was surprised to find the house quiet. The kitchen was clean and her husband and daughters were nowhere to be found.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione grabbed her favourite book and headed for her bed. She snuggled down under the covers, leaned back against the fluffy pillows, and had just opened her book when she heard them Flooing back in. Well, that didn't last long. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

When she could ignore them no longer, she looked up to see her husband standing in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"You look completely knackered, love."

"I am." She looked around him, but there was no sign of the two small red heads she expected to see bouncing in behind him.

She met his eyes with a questioning look. He shot a roguishly wicked grin back at her, mouthing the words, "They're not here."

"You killed them, didn't you? I managed them by myself all week long, but I leave you alone with them for less than an hour and you do away with them?"

Fred grinned at her. "I did consider it. But I concluded it might be too messy, and I've already cleaned up one mess tonight."

"Well, those were the only two you're getting from me, so don't come over here with any bright ideas about making a couple more."

"It would make Mum happy, you know—more grandkids. She's been saying—"

"So that's what you did with them. You left them on your parents' doorstep!" Her voice was excited. "Hurry, we don't have much time. I'll grab some clothes and you get a trunk. They'll be returning them soon."

Fred laughed, "Wrong again. We would be found out much too quickly, and Mum and Dad would only fill 'em up with loads of chocolate frogs to punish us before sending them back home. Completely counter-productive, don't you think?"

"Hm, good point," she agreed. "I know! You left them at the orphanage in Diagon Alley, didn't you?" He winked at her in response. "Merlin, I love you, Fred."

He laughed in the way that made his eyes twinkle and the corner of his mouth curl up into an adorable half-smile, giving him a boyish look that had always been her undoing. Today, after being married to him for the past six years, it still had that same effect on her. She felt her heartbeat quicken, her pulse race and her nipples harden, all from that one simple gesture.

"I tried to leave them there, but apparently our daughters' reputations precede them. The bird at the front desk said something about a lady with brown, curly hair that the girls called mummy attempting to leave them there before. Anything you would like to tell me, Wife?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, as he rubbed his stubble-covered chin.

"Damn," she teased, "I should have knocked and ran."

"That's my girl. That's the way I taught you." He crossed the room to their bed. "Shove over, woman," he said bumping her shoulder with his hip. He climbed in beside her, tossed back the blankets and rested his head in her lap. She pretended to ponder further while she threaded her fingers through his thick, ginger-coloured hair, brushing back the fringe and smiling as it fell stubbornly back over his brow.

"I'm running out of guesses. A hint?" She followed the trail of his gaze, and noticed that he was eyeing the way her too-small pyjama top pressed against her chest. It was an old top that she had prior to her pregnancy with the twins, but it was one of her favourites, and if the look on her husband's face was any indication, it was one of his favourites as well.

"I'm a bit tired of this game, really. I can think of a few other games I want to play with you though." He grasped the material and pulled at the buttons on her top as he attempted to unfasten them.

She batted his hands away and grinned down at him. "What have you done with our children, Fred Weasley?"

"I can go and fetch 'em home, if you'd like."

"No, I did not say a thing about fetching them. However," she said, batting his hands away again, laughing at his frustrated sigh and the way he rolled his eyes, "I will sound like a bad mother if I don't even know where my own children are, won't I?"

"After the week you've had, sweetheart, I think you get bonus points seeing as how they're still among the living." He wound one of her curls around his fingers, and his knuckles grazed her cheek.

"So you noticed then? How bad it was, I mean?" she asked, as she continued to stroke his hair.

"Not really, and I'm sorry 'bout that, babe. Mum opened my eyes for me this morning," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "That woman does get her messages across loud and clear, doesn't she?"

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile and rubbed the spot on the back of his head where his mother had, no doubt, thumped him.

"I noticed when I got home the past few nights, after you and the girls were already asleep, that your usually must-be-neat-and-tidy house looked like it had been hit by a tornado—or two. I should have paid more attention. You're typically a light sleeper, and I don't think you woke up once when I climbed in beside you the past few nights. I'm sorry you got stuck doing so much of this by yourself while we've been testing this product. We made some real progress, but it still needs a lot of work."

She sighed in disappointment. "I'm glad you made progress, but I've missed you, Fred." She pushed the thought of further nights alone in the coming week from her mind and focused on the time she had with him now. "Back to these bonus points, Weasley. What do they get me?"

"Quit smacking my hands away and I'll show you." He made another grab for the buttons on her pyjama top, but she pushed away his hands.

"Grr," he growled. "Will you stop it?"

"Where are our daughters?"

"When I tell you, you're going to think your husband is so brilliant that you'll climb on top of him and rip his clothes off."

She cocked her eyebrow and leaned forward. He raised his head and met her halfway for a soft kiss. "Care to put that theory to test?"

He pulled his head from her lap and sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. "Well, Granger—"

"How many times do I have to tell you that's not my name anymore?"

"You'll always be Granger to me. It only matters that everyone else knows you're my wife. Hermione," he started, as though he had some great announcement to make, "I have decided to take this week off from the shop."

"But the new product—won't George need your help? I know the two of you were trying to get it ready to put on the shelves before people begin shopping for the start of term at Hogwarts, and it's already July. Won't you run out of time?"

"It probably won't be ready for August, but it's not a tragedy. It'll be ready for Christmas instead."

"Oh Fred, now I feel guilty. I didn't mean to take you away from the shop. The shop usually triples its profits during August while people are shopping for school supplies in Diagon Alley."

"It does and one product is not going to change that. It's not like we're foundering anymore. Wheezes is making Galleons hand-over-fist. The shop's exceeded all of our expectations. George and I talked this evening, and I told him I needed to be home for a while."

"Was he upset?"

"George? Nah. He knows if I tell him I need to be home there's a reason. One of the joys of having a twin is they rarely question your motives. Listen to me, Hermione. The shop's important, but not more important than my family or my marriage. Frankly, baby, out of the three, you seem to be the one who needs my attention most right now. I think I've been a bit neglectful of late."

She kissed his lips lightly in silent forgiveness. "I still feel guilty and a little selfish, but the girls and I are going to love having you home."

"No, they're not because the girls are not going to be here," he whispered in her ear. "They are going to be gone for the next seven nights. It is just going to be the two of us."

She pushed herself away from his chest and looked him directly in the eye. "That is not something to tease about, Weasley."

He grasped her arms and pulled her across his lap, capturing her mouth for a long, slow and sensuous kiss as their tongues entwined. "After the week you've had, it seemed only fair that you should get a break from the demons we call daughters, so your brilliant husband went to the Ministry of Magic and called in a favour with Minister Shacklebolt."

She kissed him with eagerness. "It is good to have connections. Amaze me with your brilliance, Husband."

"When you put it that way, how can I resist? Kingsley arranged an international Portkey to Romania, and the girls are staying with Charlie tonight. You looked so knackered earlier, and then I realised there are seven days in a week and—"

"Did I say brilliance?" she interrupted.

"Cheeky little thing, aren't you, Granger?" he asked, playfully smacking her bottom lightly. Anyway, between Bill, George, Charlie, Percy, Ginny, Ron and Mum and Dad's place that's seven separate houses in my family."

"I knew I married the smart one."

"I'm going to pretend that was sincere."

"Don't," she said in a throaty voice that even she would not recognise as her own. She guided his hand back to her arse.

"You know, love, it's not really punishment if you enjoy it so much that ya' beg for it."

"Then pretend I don't," she said in the same husky voice.

He licked her nipple through the top she wore eliciting a gasp from her when the wet warmth of his tongue seeped through to her skin. He offered only enough to tease her, lightly squeezing her arse where she had placed his hand before pulling back. "As I was saying, that's a place for our daughters to stay every night for a week."

"You sent our daughters to the Dragon Reserve in Romania tonight?"

"You are a quick study. What tipped you off?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Sarcasm really does not become you, Fred. They'll drive poor Charlie spare. He'll be bringing them back in the next hour." She laughed at the thought of Charlie, all muscles and raw masculinity, being driven to frustration by two identical little girls. "We should take advantage of this time alone while we can." She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head and nibbled a trail down his neck.

He pushed her flat of her back, pinning her to the bed beneath him, "Ah, but there is more, my beautiful wife. Tell me I'm marvellous, Granger."

"Brilliant and marvellous? Think rather highly of yourself tonight, don't you?"

"I do. Your husband has a deviously brilliant mind." He finally managed to work the final button of her top open, and licked a trail between her breasts, while he rolled one nipple between his fingers. She tangled her own fingers in his hair and pulled him as close to her as possible. He winked at her, "Lee Jordan's sister happens to be working at the Floo Regulation Commission, and as of a few minutes ago our fireplace has been disconnected from the Floo Network. There's no way in except through the front and back doors, and I put up the wards."

She kissed him hard. "That is why I love you, Weasley. When you see an opportunity, you don't let it slip by."

Fred was giving her tits his undivided attention, lavishing them with his affection, as he squeezed the soft mounds of flesh, sucked her nipple into his mouth and laved it with the under side of his tongue.

"Fred?"

He removed his mouth from its current task only long enough to answer, "I'm kind of busy here."

"It's just—what if George needs you for something with the shop?" She thought for a moment and her voice took on a tone of panic. "What if something happens that your family needs to tell us something about the girls? I mean Merlin knows things do tend to go wrong when they're around and—"

"Hush." He put his finger to her lips. "Calm down. I took care of everything." He went back to laving her nipple with no further explanation until she pushed him away. Fred sighed and released her now hard nipple from his mouth with a loud pop. "Her-my-nee," he whinged.

"Fred, I'm worried. They've never been away from me for long and, well, I know George is good with them and all, but what if they need me for something?"

He stroked a finger down her jaw. "You really are a good mum, y'know? And with those two, it cannot be easy some days."

"Thank you. It's nice to hear sometimes."

He kissed her forehead. "George has agreed to run the shop by himself for the entire week and take both of our daughters for a day as well. He knows how to get through the wards and the others can contact him if something goes wrong. George will get us if anything comes up we should know about. And, he won't bring the girls back because he actually thinks they're fun, you know, in small doses. He said if they become too much for one of the others, he'll take them for the extra night." The entire explanation came out in one long rush of words. It was evident that he knew she was going to demand an explanation before allowing his continued exploration of her body, so he simply spit it all out at once making Hermione smile. "Now that I've answered all your bloody questions, may I continue what I was doing?" He tweaked a nipple for emphasis.

She pulled his head back down to her breast. "Yes, my brilliant, devious and marvellously breathtaking husband."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Granger."

"A week with you and no children, whatever will we do with ourselves?"

He grinned at her and winked, "And you insulted my intelligence?"

Hermione wasn't sure what happened after that. One minute she was lying beneath her husband as he assailed her body with well placed kisses and tender caresses, and the next thing she knew the morning light was streaming through their bedroom window and she could hear the shower running in the loo down the hall. She put her hands over her face as realisation dawned. Gods, I cannot believe I fell asleep in the middle of my husband making love to me.

Feeling terribly guilty for drifting off the previous night, she crept from their room intent on sharing the shower with him until long after the water had gone cold. She entered the loo, but the steam filling the room clouded her vision. She stripped off her clothes as quietly as she could and stepped into the shower behind him. She grasped his waist and pressed kisses to his back, before running her tongue between his shoulder blades. She rested her chin on his shoulder as she nibbled his neck and ear, pressing her breasts against his back. With his earlobe still between her teeth she said "Good morning, handsome. I'm sorry I fell asleep last night." She punctuated the apology with a kiss behind the ear she had been nibbling. Her hands left his waist to caress down his hips and squeeze his arse. He groaned when she pressed her body more tightly against his back.

At the sound of his voice, though, her heart stopped. "Mornin', Hermione. I hope the hot water in my flat goes out more often if this is the way you welcome everyone who borrows your shower."

"George!"

"I can pretend to be Fred, if you like," he said, starting to turn toward her. "Fred never told you me were so kinky, love."

"Don't you dare turn around!"

"Ya know, you were a lot more personable a minute ago."

"Close your eyes," she hissed, backing out of the shower, and breathing a sigh of relief when she saw he had complied with her demand. She wanted to wipe that smug smirk from his face, but it would have to wait. She grabbed her dressing gown from its hook on the door and yanked it on as she left the loo as quickly as possible, running smack into her husband's chest as she rounded the corner.

He grabbed her arms to keep her from falling over at the impact. "Whoa there," he said, as she landed a fist against him. "Blimey, what's that for?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder.

That is because I just shared a rather intimate shower with your brother. Think you might warn me next time we're not alone?" She frowned at the sight of him biting his lower lip. The prat was trying not to laugh, which made her want to hit him again. "This is not funny, Fred Weasley!"

He cleared his throat loudly, swallowing down his laughter. "No, you're right. It's not—" He had to stop before he could complete his sentence, and he closed his eyes to avoid looking at her, holding up his hand in pause, but even that didn't prevent the laughter spilling from his lips.

Thinks this is humorous, does he? Well, two can play at that game. When his eyes opened once more, she flashed him a smile which, after this long, he should have known meant trouble. She pulled the tie that held her dressing gown together free, feeling the silky material part when she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her still wet and naked body firmly against him making him groan at the contact and slip his hands inside the open gown. She stood on tiptoe to nip at his ear and whispered, "I believe your brother's a bit larger than you, love." She ground her hips against his growing erection for emphasis.

He grasped her hips pushing the heels of her feet back flat on the floor, and looked down at her with a look she knew well. It was the I-can't-believe-I-fell-for-that look, which she had only seen a few times in all the years of knowing him. Nothing delighted her more than getting the better of Fred Weasley, as it happened so rarely.

"That wasn't funny, Granger. Not funny at all."

"Oh, I think it was almost as funny as my shower with George, you prat."

With no warning, he tossed her over his shoulder and headed to their bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. He leaned back against it, setting her on her feet in front of him and pulling her close as he slid the dressing gown down her arms.

"Fred," she protested, "George is just across the hall."

"He knows the way out." Desire clouded his eyes, and she threw caution to the wind and pulled him toward their bed, "Sleepy again?" he teased.

"I am sorry I fell asleep on you last night."

"I should prob'ly be the one apologising for molesting you before I realised you were snoring and not moaning."

"That must have been a bit of a disappointment."

"More than you know."

"Show me how disappointed you were, and I will see what I can do to make it up to you."

"I like the sound of that, Granger."

His hand closed over her left breast and his lips found her neck. She arched her back into his touch, as she worked to unfasten his robes. The fastenings were not cooperative and refused to yield to her demands to open. When she finally worked the confounded contraption free, a knock sounded at their bedroom door.

Fred never removed his mouth from her neck. "Go away."

"Ah, come on. Granger won't mind. We've gotten close, ya know. We even share showers on occasion," George said. "Besides, I hear women fall asleep in bed with you, so you obviously need a few pointers. It's a tough job and all, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice for you, brother."

Fred's face took on a look of open-mouthed horror. "You told him?"

"No, I told you, who just well—happened to not be you—and—oh, this is not my fault!"

George was still laughing when they heard the tell-tale "crack" of him Apparating away.

"You know I plan to modify his memory, right?" she asked. Fred sucked her neck with renewed fervour, his mouth warm and wet as he trailed his lips up to her ear. He grunted something that sounded remotely like 'yeah'. Her hands went to his shoulders, and she pushed him away gently, amused at the look of frustration that crossed the face she found so irresistible.

In the most whinging tone she had ever heard him use, he said, "What now?" He stretched out each word until it was incredibly long and pitiful sounding.

"Well, one of us needs to reset the wards before another of your relatives or our friends decides to pay us a visit, and you happen to be the only one of us who is clothed." She passed him her wand from the bedside table.

He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, "I really hate to admit you've got a point. As many people as there are in my family, one of them is bound to show up, especially after they hear we have a community shower. Mum may feel the need to have a serious talk with you about your lascivious behaviour with my brother, love."

She shoved him away. "You'll pay for that."

"Promises, promises," he mumbled as he exited the room to prevent any further intrusions into their morning.

She climbed into their bed, finger-combed her mass of wild curls in a futile attempt to remove the tangles, and waited for his return. The house was quiet as Hermione relaxed against the pillows; it was a foreign and wonderful sound.

Somewhere on his trip back to their room Fred had discarded his robes, and he stood before her wearing only his shorts, his erection evident and straining against the thin material. She raised herself up on her knees, starting at just beneath his waistband, and stroked a finger down his hard length, closely studying the expressions that crossed his face when she cupped his balls and kneaded gently. She hooked her fingers into his waistband and tugged. If his moaning was any indication, he was as ready to be inside her as she was to have him there.

She crooked her finger at him, "Come here, gorgeous."

His lips came down hard on hers as he pushed her down on their bed. She ran her hands up and down his bare back, revelling in the feel of his hard muscles beneath her fingers, as he nuzzled her neck and whispered against her skin.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her body against his. "Fred, I can't wait."

He slid a hand between them. She groaned when his fingers made contact with her folds, delving inside and touching her in all the right places. "So wet. So ready for me," he growled.

"I want you."

At her words, he thrust fully into her in a single stroke, never slowing the teasing of his thumb as it rubbed against her clit. He set the pace and she matched his rhythm perfectly. They had been together for six years, and she was always amazed at how responsive her body was to his touch, to the words he whispered in her ear, and to the kisses he showered upon her lips and skin. He knew exactly what would make her come and how to bring her to climax at the same moment he exploded inside her.

Her nails scratched lightly across the muscles of his back as he increased his pace. She closed her eyes and arched her body into each of his thrusts, returning his passionate kisses with equal fervour, as her tongue tangled with his. She fisted her hands in his hair dragging his mouth down her neck. He sucked the spot behind her ear with the knowledge that being kissed there was often her undoing. He gently suckled the sensitive skin, intermittently whispering breathy words in her ear, which for the most part she couldn't understand. She did not need to hear them to know they were words of love. As her body approached climax, she dug her nails into his shoulders and wrapped her legs as tightly around him as she could pulling his lips to hers and continuing to breathe him in as wave after wave of pleasure quaked through her and until her body ceased its trembling. He followed her orgasm with his own.

Fred eased himself from her body and pulled her to him, as his chest laboured with each breath. He snuggled her close. "If that's what taking a shower with my brother does for you, love, we'll invite him over more often."

She shoved against his chest, but he refused to release her. "Stop laughing, Fred."

"I'm sorry, but that was too good to pass up. It's been too long since I shagged you good and proper."

"You just made it up to me. That was amazing."

"Most agreed," he said, as he moved to sit on the side of the bed and grabbed her hand. "Come on, lazy. I want breakfast. Gotta keep my strength up and all."

After breakfast and the longest shower of their lives, they were once again wrapped in one another's arms beneath the warm duvet that covered their bed, and basking in the afterglow of a marathon session of lovemaking.

"Fred."

"Hm?" he said, yawning.

"If we move away before the week is over, how long do you think it would take your brothers to find us?"

"With the threat of raising our daughters as motivation? Two hours, tops."

"I was afraid that's what you were going to say. It's been a while now. How do you think it's going?"

"Baby, the girls are fine. No need to worry about 'em," he said.

"Oh no, honey. I was worried about Charlie."

"George promised to check in on him and make sure they hadn't killed him as soon as he got back to the shop. I think we would have heard by now if there was a funeral to attend." He pulled away from her and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at her smiling face.

"What are you smiling about, Granger?"

"You've given me plenty to smile about this morning. I was just thinking about what we might do with the rest of our day."

"We could make a baby."

She shoved him across the bed away from her. "There are certain things which are off limits when joking in this house. That's one of those things, you arse."

"Ah, but I did love it when you were pregnant."

"You loved the shagging when I was pregnant because we did it all the time. I've never been so randy in my life. It's a wonder we didn't both die from exhaustion."

"Yeah," Fred said with a sigh. "Good times."

End of Part One