Fool Me
folder
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
19,113
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
19,113
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings
Day Three
Day Three
“If this doesn’t fool her, I don’t know what will!” George cackled, sounding a bit mad even to his own ears.
The twins stood before the mirror, surveying their handiwork with a fine-tooth comb. They were curtain not even their mother was going to figure them out after this. They’d used every trick in their shop to transfigure their appearances until not a single strand of hair was out of place. They’d even gone so far as to wear nametags, with their actual names inscribed on the front to throw her off. She was bound to think they were trying to pull a fast one and assume the right twin was the wrong one.
Oh yea, they had this in the bag!
“Why are you wearing nametags?” Ron asked, eyeing the two warily when they descended the stairs for supper.
“Just to make it easier on everyone,” George explained, grinning.
“We already know you’re both mental, you don’t need to make it easier,” Ginny snickered.
The twins offered her a rude hand gesture and moved to take their places on either side of Hermione. Who glanced up and smiled politely at each of them before resuming her conversation with Harry across the table.
“Could you pass the salt, Hermione?” George asked, leaning close to her ear as if whispering a secret.
Plucking up the roaster-shaped saltshaker, she set it down next to him, and smiled. “There you are.”
He nodded, picking it up and drizzling a pinch over his meatloaf. “How are you coming along on your Potions and Cures textbook?”
She shrugged, cutting a sliver of her meat and spearing it with her fork. “Alright enough,” she said as she popped the morsel into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and continued. “I have a handful of chapters left on it, but don’t tell Fred, he thinks I’m mental for studying during my summer vacation.”
Acting nonchalant, George concentrated on cutting his meat before responding. “And what makes you think I’m not Fred?”
A golden-brown brow arched, and her lip did that curving thing to amplify the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Your nametag states that you’re not.”
“It could be lying,” he pointed out, feeling rather smug.
She nodded. “Yes, but that would mean you were lying and I know you’re not.”
“How do you know?” he barked a little too sharply.
“I just do,” she declared, turning back to her plate.
It was sheer pride that kept him from sulking and crossing his arms. The witch was deliberately trying to drive him nuts!
“You’re just guessing!” he muttered, turning his head away to keep from falling into her hypnotic trap.
“No, I’m not, but if you like, you may go ahead and think so.”
“Well, you’re wrong!” he snapped, slamming his fist on the table and rattling his silverware.
Unflinching, she replied, “No, I’m not.”
“I’m Fred!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!”
She sighed, tolerantly. “Fine, we’ll pretend like you’re Fred.”
He growled, uncaring that everyone at the table was watching them. “There’s no pretending! I am Fred!”
She popped another morsel into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and stated baldly, “No, you’re not.”
“How do you know I’m not?” he snarled, fist clenching tight around his fork.
The clever witch merely shrugged, popping another chunk of meat into her mouth. “I just do.”
“If this doesn’t fool her, I don’t know what will!” George cackled, sounding a bit mad even to his own ears.
The twins stood before the mirror, surveying their handiwork with a fine-tooth comb. They were curtain not even their mother was going to figure them out after this. They’d used every trick in their shop to transfigure their appearances until not a single strand of hair was out of place. They’d even gone so far as to wear nametags, with their actual names inscribed on the front to throw her off. She was bound to think they were trying to pull a fast one and assume the right twin was the wrong one.
Oh yea, they had this in the bag!
“Why are you wearing nametags?” Ron asked, eyeing the two warily when they descended the stairs for supper.
“Just to make it easier on everyone,” George explained, grinning.
“We already know you’re both mental, you don’t need to make it easier,” Ginny snickered.
The twins offered her a rude hand gesture and moved to take their places on either side of Hermione. Who glanced up and smiled politely at each of them before resuming her conversation with Harry across the table.
“Could you pass the salt, Hermione?” George asked, leaning close to her ear as if whispering a secret.
Plucking up the roaster-shaped saltshaker, she set it down next to him, and smiled. “There you are.”
He nodded, picking it up and drizzling a pinch over his meatloaf. “How are you coming along on your Potions and Cures textbook?”
She shrugged, cutting a sliver of her meat and spearing it with her fork. “Alright enough,” she said as she popped the morsel into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and continued. “I have a handful of chapters left on it, but don’t tell Fred, he thinks I’m mental for studying during my summer vacation.”
Acting nonchalant, George concentrated on cutting his meat before responding. “And what makes you think I’m not Fred?”
A golden-brown brow arched, and her lip did that curving thing to amplify the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Your nametag states that you’re not.”
“It could be lying,” he pointed out, feeling rather smug.
She nodded. “Yes, but that would mean you were lying and I know you’re not.”
“How do you know?” he barked a little too sharply.
“I just do,” she declared, turning back to her plate.
It was sheer pride that kept him from sulking and crossing his arms. The witch was deliberately trying to drive him nuts!
“You’re just guessing!” he muttered, turning his head away to keep from falling into her hypnotic trap.
“No, I’m not, but if you like, you may go ahead and think so.”
“Well, you’re wrong!” he snapped, slamming his fist on the table and rattling his silverware.
Unflinching, she replied, “No, I’m not.”
“I’m Fred!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!”
She sighed, tolerantly. “Fine, we’ll pretend like you’re Fred.”
He growled, uncaring that everyone at the table was watching them. “There’s no pretending! I am Fred!”
She popped another morsel into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and stated baldly, “No, you’re not.”
“How do you know I’m not?” he snarled, fist clenching tight around his fork.
The clever witch merely shrugged, popping another chunk of meat into her mouth. “I just do.”