Hermione had to resist the urge to groan as, yet again, Ron tried to explain the use of the floo network to her clueless parents. She rolled her eyes, watching Ron with a bored look on her face and all the while, keeping a watchful eye on the house behind them. Surely, everything that had gone wrong had been put right by now? If not, then Hermione dreaded to think of Mrs. Weasley's reaction to the state of the house when she returned from 'shopping'… she especially dreaded the thought of having to introduce her parents to the twins.
She could see it now… imagine the disaster… her poor father and mother, the victims, of one of the twins' 'hilarious' pranks… and to think she'd been stupid enough to think that the evening couldn't have gotten any worse… Hermione turned her attention back to Ron and decided it best to intervene, before Ron hurt himself.
"Ron!" She said, in an inquiring voice, trudging through the wet grass towards where he and her parents were standing, "I think I just heard Ginny calling… something about dinner being ready? Maybe we should all head back inside."
"Back in?" Mrs. Granger interrupted in a hysterical voice, "We haven't even stepped over the threshold yet!" Hermione had to agree with her mother and from the look on her father's face; his wife's feelings seemed to mirror his own.
"Yes I think you're right Hermione." Ron replied in a tired, yet some what relieved, voice, "I'm sure dinner is ready. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, if you would kindly allow me to escort you into my humble home."
Murmurs and grumbles of 'finally' and 'about time' could be heard from her parents, whilst they gathered their things and reluctantly followed Ron over to the front porch. Hermione slipped between her parents and onto the porch to stand beside Ron, giving him a hopeful smile. The poor boy seemed to be gathering up what was left of his Gryffindor courage, smiling nervously at her parents and waiting for either Ginny or the twins, Hermione was praying it would be Ginny, to answer the door.
A loud and rather impatient knock sounded at the door, just as Ginny re-appeared from the basement, dusting herself off and smoothing out her rather ragged appearance. Her eyes widened in horror, as she stumbled backwards… back towards the basement stairs…
"FRED! GEORGE!" She hissed down to her brothers, ignoring the moaning and and grumbling that could be heard from them, "THEY'RE WAITING TO BE LET IN! THE GRANGERS! WHAT DO WE DO! THE CHICKEN ISN'T GOING TO BE READY FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER HALF HOUR!"
At this last remark, both twins appeared, poking their heads around the corner and staring at Ginny, accompanied by their famous looks of mischief that could only mean trouble.
"We'll stall them; you go and sort out dinner!" The twins exclaimed, taking Ginny by the arms and steering her towards the kitchen. Ginny immediately started protesting and tried to dig her heels into the carpet, in one last desperate attempt to stop her brothers… just for a few seconds, so she could have time to think of an alternative plan, which preferably didn't include her meddlesome brothers, but the twins were too strong for her and before she knew what had happened, she'd been thrown head-first into the kitchen. She let out a squeak of pain, as she landed hard on her back side, before turning to scowl angrily at her brothers, who merely smiled firstly at Ginny then at each other and closed the kitchen door, locking it behind them.
"Well Fred!" George said, wiping his hands in satisfactory.
"Well George!" Fred replied, imitating his brother in the same annoying fashion.
"Now we're in control!"