Good Friends, Bad Habits
Chapter One: Everybody's Doing It
"This is fucking ridiculous!" Fred roared, slamming his fist against the kitchen wall. Instead of allowing his anger to dissipate, it had the undesirable effect of tripling his frustration. His twin wasn't in much better shape. George was raging up and down the living room, furiously trying to tear the official-looking piece of parchment in his hands to tiny bits with little success. No matter what he did to the offensive bit of paper, it righted itself and continued to glare cheekily back up at him.
"This is absolute bullshit!" George bellowed back, finally getting so frustrated that he balled up the offending document and hurled it into the fireplace. The paper unfolded itself neatly and sat, quite unburned, in the flames. The sight of it sitting there unharmed made George sick to his stomach, so he rampaged into the kitchen to combine his fury with that of his brother.
"We told that lot of pencil-pushing jackarses that we'd be experimenting with this kind of thing-"
"And they have the bollocks to send us this bullshit notice that we've 'broken the law'."
The twins glared at each other for a moment, Fred still clutching his notice in his clenched, and now bruised, fist. Their blue eyes were strangely flat and unsparkling with their shared irritation, and anyone who knew them at all would barely recognize them without their usual mischievous grins in place. With a wave of his wand, George procured two large glasses of whiskey, handing one over to his brother.
"Pack of brainless morons," they chanted in unison, clinking their whiskey glasses together and downing them in one gulp. They slammed the glasses back on the table, Fred's shattering when it hit the wood table at a funny angle.
Letting out simultaneous frustrated sighs, they fell into the two wooden chairs on either side of the small kitchen table. The table obligingly fixed Fred's shattered glass and filled the glasses with another generous portion of whiskey, and the stove in the corner roared to life, preparing some sort of hearty stew that the twins were far too angry to eat. Fred pushed the paper away from him in disgust, letting it unroll itself across the middle of the table.
~By Order of the Ministry of Magic~
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Improper Use of Magic Office
Mafalda Hopkirk, Head of Office for the Examination and Trials of Irresponsible Practicing of Magic by Adults
It has recently come to the attention of the Office for the Examination and Trials of Irresponsible Practicing of Magic by Adults that two acts of Irresponsible Magic (as outlined in Volume X11 of the Ministerial Code of Conduct, Codex 7, Clause 3200, Paragraph 913, Subparagraph 12 B, Line 1145, 2 finger widths to the right) were committed at your place of residence exactly one week prior to the delivery of this notice. As there have been several prior incidents at this same residence, you are required to appear before the Improper Use of Magic Court in person, one day after the delivery of this notice at exactly 3 in the afternoon. The Improper Use of Magic Office may be found inside the Ministry of Magic in London, England, on the second floor. Please note that this is a serious court appearance, and you should have a proper defense prepared.
Head of Office for the Examination and Trials of Irresponsible Practicing of Magic by Adults
P.S. I really do adore your Patented Day Dream Charms. They are excellent magic!
The compliment at the end was not quite enough to soothe the blow of yet another Ministry hearing due to testing products for the joke shop. The twins had been through more than a few similar letters, but the final straw was that this last time they actually had asked permission to conduct their tests- and here they were, with another Ministry notice and this time, to top it off, an actual court date to attend! The injustice was enough to royally piss the two red heads off.
"Well, I guess we'll have to leave the shop to Verity tomorrow," Fred grumbled, flicking his wand so that a scroll of parchment and a quill appeared. He angrily jotted a few lines, letting the witch know that she would be heading up the store tomorrow on what was, of course, one of the busiest days of the year as it was almost the start of term at Hogwarts and Diagon Alley was positively flooded with customers.
When the letter was finished, Fred waved his wand, banishing it to the employee's entrance downstairs so that Verity would find it in the morning. The glasses filled again and Fred raised his to his brother in another toast.
"To our first, but hardly our last, official Ministry hearing," he proposed.
George knocked his glass against Fred's, maybe a bit too hard as much of the whiskey sloshed onto the table. "And may the lot of them end up with their genitals in a pot of Venomous Tentacula," he muttered darkly. They drained the glasses again, a bit glassy eyed now.
"I'm sure we can arrange that for Christmas," Fred assured him, heading over to the stove to see what could be done about the overly enthusiastic pot of stew.
"This is still bullshit," George snapped, pushing himself away from the table and stalking to his room. The door slammed behind him, and soon enough Fred had echoed his twin's actions, locking himself in his own room for the night. It was one of the rare unhappy nights on the loft above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
Hermione was quite distraught. She had never in her life been in trouble with the Ministry (unless you counted that brief span of time when she had been on it's most wanted list, but seeing as Voldemort had more or less been in control of the entire Ministry at the time, Hermione considered that a bit of a gray area), and yet here she was, holding a notice for her own hearing, signed by Mafalda Hopkirk herself. It was enough to make frustrated tears prick the corner's of Hermione's eyes, but she refused to give that official Ministry document the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
The second the thing had arrived, carried right through her bedroom window by one of those haughty Ministry owls, Hermione had summoned her complete set of the Ministerial Code of Conduct, and after a brief search, she had found Codex 7, Clause 3200, Paragraph 913, Subparagraph 12 B, Line 1145, and looked two finger widths to the right. Within seconds of her bright intelligent eyes scanning the miniscule black print, her cheeks were burning red.
Of all the crimes Hermione Granger would be set before a Ministry Court to be tried for, no one in their right mind would have guessed at the truth, not even Hermione herself.
…and in accordance with the Controlled Use of Magic Decree of 1065, any persons who do perform magic without proper control of their bodies, whether in the presence of a nonmagical being or not, due to the reaching of an orgasm, whether by coitus or other means, shall be considered in breech of the law for the purpose of endangering themselves and others, as well as the secrecy of the wizarding race.
Had Hermione been blessed with the All-Seeing Eye, like her longtime idol Sybil Trelawney, she would have known that, except for the person the letter was addressed to, a certain pair of red headed twins had received nearly the exact same letter as her. The only real difference was that, whereas the twins had been called to a hearing due to their numerous egregious trespasses of the law, Hermione was being called to a hearing because, as of a month ago, she was the law. Or at least, Mafalda Hopkirk's Junior-in-command.
Not wanting to think about facing her boss from the wrong side of the court room, especially not for… well, that, Hermione went to her bathroom and procured her emergency sleeping draught from the medicine closet. If nothing else, she would at least have a restful night of sleep before facing her entire department and being charged with one of the most embarrassing crimes a witch or wizard could commit.
A/N: Another Fred/Hermione/George story. Or maybe technically my first one, because I'm still not clear on if my other is one or both. Hm. I know it's not quite clear where this is going yet, but be patient!