a bit. “Guess that means you owe me one now, clever girl.”

prat with a whoopee cushion.”

He leaned back casually, eyes glinting with a mix of pride and amusement. “I’m glad you noticed. Thought you’d appreciate a little challenge... even if it means making you admit I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve beyond exploding inkpots.”

Fred’s grin softened just --

Fred chuckled softly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sly smile as he met her sharp gaze.

“Well, I do try to keep things interesting,” he said, voice low with a teasing edge. “You might think I’m all jokes and chaos, but every now and then, I like to remind people I’m not just another --

on your toes.”

watch.

When her final words landed—sharp, certain—he let out a low chuckle at last.

“Well, Granger,” he drawled, eyes gleaming, “you catch on quicker than most. I’d say you’re charmed in more ways than one.”

And with an exaggerated, innocent shrug, he added, “What can I say? I like keeping you --

offence. “And here I thought we’d already signed the co-ownership papers.”

He gave the smallest tilt of his head when she dipped the quill and frowned at the blank parchment. Merlin, she hated not solving something straight away—he could practically see the gears turning. And oh, was it fun to --

Fred’s grin only widened as he watched her work through it—eyes sharp, mind sharper, just as he expected. He leaned back lazily in his chair, arms folded behind his head now, as if this was all a casual bit of afternoon entertainment.

“Temporarily, she says,” he echoed under his breath with mock --

sarcasm—bit like her new owner.”

That’s how you end up co-managing a joke shop with me. First it's the quill, next it's stocktaking Fainting Fancies.”

Still, he leaned forward with exaggerated ceremony, placing the quill in her hand like it was some ancient artifact.

“There. Handle with care. She’s temperamental and prone to --

Fred tilted his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes like a fairy light strung up for a Gryffindor party. Her tone was bossy, her palm expectant—but that smirk? That was a challenge if he'd ever seen one.

“Quality control, is it?” he said, twirling his quill like a baton. “Careful, Granger. --

He gestured dramatically toward the new quill. “But by all means — try again. I promise I haven’t charmed that one.”

A beat.

“Probably.”

fear. “Well, make sure it’s Tuesday. I’ve got plans Monday.”

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting with mischief. “Besides, what kind of villain would I be if I didn’t keep you on your toes, Granger? Consider it... practical defense training.” --

Fred leaned back on the sofa, legs casually propped up like he hadn’t a care in the world — which, of course, meant he absolutely did. His smirk widened at the sight of her barely contained smile, the telltale twitch giving her away.

“Hex me into next week?” he echoed, eyebrows rising in mock --

distracted, how else will I come up with my next masterpiece of mischief?”

He winked and leaned back, clearly enjoying the rare moment of quiet before the storm of pranks to come. “Now, what’s your excuse for looking so serious? You’re not thinking of turning into a prankster, are you?”

Fred looked up with a cheeky grin, eyes twinkling with mischief but his tone mock-innocent. “Infuriating? Me? I’m just helping you test your quill’s magical integrity. Quality control, Hermione. Someone’s gotta do it.”

He tapped the parchment with his quill and added, “Besides, if I’m --