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If we’re single and not married by the time you’re thirty, I’ll have a baby with you.
Friends say it all the time. It’s an innocent pact that usually never comes true. Hermione had been a little more than drunk when she’d said it. After that night, she didn't think anything about it.
It wasn’t until years later when she awoke to a burning pain wrapping around both her arms, that she remembered. She’d looked down at her hands to find lines wrapping themselves up her fingers and hands and running underneath her shirt. At first, she thought the pain was something of Dark Magic. She should have listened to Harry about getting a bodyguard when she started running for Minister of Magic.
She ran to the mirror, turning her arms around to examine the glowing marks. Even pushing up her sleeves was not enough. She ripped her shirt over her head to reveal the bright lines wrapped up her arms and connected in a burst of light at her heart and then…
And then down. From Hermione’s heart, there was a straight glowing line stretching past her navel and disappearing beneath the elastic of her pajama pants. She didn’t have to look to know where it was going.
A crash in Hermione’s living room brought her out of her inspection. She grabbed her wand and her shirt, using the cloth to cover her chest. There was no time to pull it over her head.
Hermione ran into her living room, wand drawn, ready to cast a stupify until she realized the crash came from two regular visitors. Standing tall and cocky, each with an arm wrapped in glowing thread, were Fred and George Weasley.
“Honestly Hermione, that’s not how you wish someone a Happy Birthday,” one of them quipped.
“Actually, it depends what she was about to cast. Could have been fun,” the other grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
She blinked at them for a moment, her brain running a mile a minute. She quickly connected the dots. They were glowing, and she was glowing, and…
“WE MADE AN UNBREAKABLE VOW?”
Fred or George, she couldn’t tell which in the dark, scratched the back of his head.
“Possible. Seems highly possible.”
“I’d put money on it, you might be right,” the other grinned.
“They don’t call her the Brightest Witch of her Age for nothing.”
“I’ll Brightest Witch you both,” she grumbled, moving to the couch to plop down.
She groaned and closed her eyes, still clutching her shirt to her chest, trying to remember the night years ago, but the memory was a bit spotty. She remembered them drinking after they had all recently ended their relationships. Hermione and Ron had ended things that month. Then George and Angelina. And finally, like a domino effect, Fred and Katie ended things in a very messy row.
“And what would that entail?” the twin on the right leered.
“Hopefully not putting her shirt back on,” the other hummed. Oh, that was definitely Fred; he always seemed a bit more forward than George.
Hermione was thankful the dark hid her blush.
By now, Hermione knew those smiles and flirts. Over the years, she had gotten closer to the twins as friends. With her constant stress from work, they were always the laughter and light she needed. It wasn’t uncommon for one or both of them to find her up late working. They’d coax her to go out drinking, trying to get her to let loose for an hour or two.
Which is precisely how they got into this mess.
Hermione pressed her face into her hands. Small bits of memory floated back to her as she rubbed her eyes. She had been sitting between them in a booth, holding their hands, promising… promising to have their child if they were still single at thirty. She’d given them each a quick peck. Had she known the magic in them actually sealed it…
She felt the couch shift next to her, and a warm hand began to rub her back. “Hermione, love, we don’t have to do anything.”
Hermione dropped her hands and looked up to find Fred and George sitting on either side of her. “And then what happens? Will we die?”
“Well, it’s not your normal sort of Unbreakable Vow. We didn’t follow the ritual, so maybe not?” George shrugged. The glow of her arms lit his face enough for her to see his smirk.
“Maybe we won’t die. Maybe we’ll only be maimed and tortured?” Fred offered. She turned to notice his smirk too.
“Seven years of bad luck?” George supplied.
She looked between them and then threw her head back onto the couch. “You both totally were counting down to this, weren’t you?”
They both burst into laughter, loud yet with a slight bit of nervousness underneath.
“Well, we weren’t not thinking about it,” George hedged.
On her other side, Fred leaned in to whisper in her ear. “If we’re being honest, we’ve thought about fucking you every night since.”
Warmth shot through Hermione’s body and settled in between her legs. She pursed her lips together to keep a small moan from escaping her lips.
Hermione looked from one to the other, then back again. Through the years, she had learned the difference between twins. George might have more freckles across the tops of his cheeks and his nose, but Fred had adorable dimples when he laughed too hard. Even their eyes were subtly different; George's softer honey brown and Fred's fiery and passionate chocolate.
Hermione swallowed. She didn’t completely mind the idea. She’d been single since they made the silly promise. With her goal to be the youngest Minister of Magic, Hermione had no time to date. For the most part, she didn’t mind being alone. She loved her weekends with her books and baking, enjoying time to herself after busy weeks at the office.
But sometimes, it was a little lonely to come home to. Now that she was a bit older, she wanted to share it with a family of her own. It hurt every time she went to a friends’ gathering and heard them all gush about their children while she hadn’t even found a significant other yet.
“I can’t handle any bad luck right now,” Hermione sighed.
“Or death,” Fred and George reminded her in unison.
“Or death,” she confirmed with a sassy eye-roll.
Hermione felt a hand warm on her thigh, then the other. Together, Fred and George pulled her pajama pants down her legs and threw them out of sight.
Though consented to move forward, Hermione still gasped at the boldness of their touch as their hands moved up her thighs. She had always found Fred and George attractive. But they’d grown from mischievous boys that pranked her into attractive men that teased her.
Hermione remembered dinners at the Burrow when the twins would whisper in her ear how good she looked as they hugged her a touch too long. Once, Fred called her a ‘good girl’ when she helped him design a new product; she’d been rendered instantly wet. Another time George had stood right behind her while she did the dishes; she’d leaned back just enough to feel his erection press against her ass. If Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been right there, she might have bent over for him.
Before Hermione could think, their hands were pulling her legs softly apart. A faint whimper left her lips before she could stop herself.
“Were you having a good dream?” George whispered in her ear as his finger brushed against the cotton between her legs.
“A naughty one?” Fred breathed against the side of her neck. She nodded, her breath hitching.
“Maybe it was the Vow,” George suggested, removing his hand and making her whine.
“Maybe not,” Fred chuckled as he tugged her shirt out of her grip, exposing her breasts. He kissed his way down to her breasts, pausing to lick his tongue over her nipple.
George’s fingers between her legs started to rub small circles.
Hermione sucked in a clarifying breath to fight the cloud of lust overpowering her logical senses. “And which of you would be the father?”
Fred and George shrugged and spoke simultaneously, “Both of us.”
“You don’t care?” her voice trembled as George rubbed harder between her legs; the cotton became soaked with each drag. His fingers hooked into the elastic of her knickers, pulling them down her legs.
“Not unless you do,” Fred murmured, running his tongue over her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Hermione gasped at the sudden assault of his tongue, flicking over the nub of her nipple. Hermione melted into the couch.
“I’d say she doesn’t mind at all,” George said as he traced her slick lips before dipping a finger inside. “Nope, not one bit.”
Hermione gasped at the sudden invasion. Her hips bucked, and her body yearned for more. She couldn’t believe this was happening. They’d never been this close before or even kissed, but she didn’t want it to stop.
Maybe they’d never kissed because she couldn’t choose which one she wanted more. There was Fred, whose confidence never failed to make her blush from across the room. And then there was George, usually well-mannered and sweet, except for his occasional sneaky hand on her thigh underneath Molly’s dining table, rubbing the inside of her thigh at family dinners.
Hermione wasn’t surprised they were attracted to her. It was just, well, having a baby with her was something else entirely. And with no clear hint at who the father was? That was unheard of, wasn’t it? It wasn’t what anyone would call normal, that was for sure. At least with two fathers, no one would ever be able to say the baby lacked love.
“We should go to the bed–” Hermione started, then gasped as Fred bit down on her nipple. “Bedroom! We should go to the bedroom!”
“So that’s a yes? You want to have our baby?” Fred asked as George kissed her neck and nipped at the soft spot behind her ear.
“I’m not sure I have much choice,” she breathed, her eyes tracing the glowing patterns over their skin.
“You always have a choice,” George said softly, “What do you want, Hermione?”
Hermione closed her eyes once more. She knew this was illogical. But wasn’t that the beauty of Fred and George? They were chaotic and spontaneous. They were passionate and good at living in the moment. They were everything she lacked, and she wanted them together because she loved them equally.
“I want you. I want to have your baby,” Hermione breathed, opening her eyes wide again to catch Fred’s grin before he leaned in to kiss her.
It was a tumultuous, punishing kiss, full on the mouth and laced with all the emotions she felt building inside her. While Fred kissed her, George sucked at her neck and pressed a second finger deep into her. Hermione groaned with need, her thighs clutching at his hand. She wanted more. She needed it.
Fred pulled back before she was ready for the kiss to end, but then George was there with his soft eyes and charming smile. “Both?”
“Yes,” Hermione breathed, leaning into George now, crushing their lips together. His kiss might be softer, but it was still all-consuming. Her body felt liquefied, dissolving into a puddle of yearning and need.
Fred’s hand moved between her legs and rubbed at her clit while George’s finger kept teasing her slowly. It was clear Fred and George knew what they were doing; Hermione wondered if they’d ever shared a woman before. When Fred slid his finger to join George's in his rhythmic thrusting, she had her answer.
“Oh Merlin,” she gasped, breaking the kiss. George recaptured her lips, all teeth, and tongue.
“We need to stretch you, love,” George explained.
He distracted her by moving his lips to kiss one side of her neck while Fred licked his way along the other side. Fred slipped a second finger inside her and pressed down more firmly on her clit with his thumb. They worked in tandem, kissing every inch of her neck, lighting every nerve on fire while their fingers scissored and stretched her core. Hermione had never felt so consumed and raw before. Her back arched as they each took a breast in their mouths and even flicked her nipples with their tongues in tandem.
They hadn’t even taken off any of their clothing yet, and she was already on the brink of combustion. It seemed unfair that she hadn’t seen or touched either of them. Her hands buried themselves in their hair as she threw her head back in the building ecstasy only two could conjure.
A cry ripped from her mouth as they both added a third finger inside of her. Six. Six fingers were inside her, thrusting and moving, stretching her gradually. She gripped at their hair, just to have something to hold on to as her legs shook from the stimulation she’d never had before.
Hermione hadn’t been touched in ages, and now she had two men worshiping her. They had yet to give her any bits of themselves, still clothes and hiding the lunges in their pants, but she was hungry for it. She reaches out and ran a hand over each of their hard cocks, trying to coax them to undress. But no matter how much she whined and begged for to let her touch them properly, their focus was solely on her pleasure.
Hermione threw her head back and cursed the gods. Her legs trembled, and her breath caught in her throat. She was cresting, so close, ready to break and shatter at their mercy. Somewhere in her head, she knew what they were doing, what was coming, but their touches were just the distraction she needed not to overthink and spin off into how.
Fred and George worked together as if sharing one mind in how they were breaking her apart. They thrusted and curled their fingers with such synchronicity that her brain refused to differentiate the twins properly.
“Fred– George–” she gasped, feeling right on the edge of her impending orgasm.
“Yes, love?” George hummed against her skin.
“Would you like us to stop?” Fred teased.
“No, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” She moved her hands up and down their backs and clutched at their shirts, completely lost on what to hold on to. She just knew she had to hold onto something, or she’d float away.
Her body spasmed as their fingers pried her open even wider, and one returned to rubbing her clit. She felt everything in her clench around their fingers as she burst into a guttural cry of need. Her nerves short-circuited, then exploded in a fiery burn of lust.
“Didn’t know you were a squirter,” Fred grinned, removing his hand. He examined his drenched fingers before placing two in his mouth. “Oh, George, you need to taste.”
George was eager to follow his brother’s advice, but instead of tasting his brother’s fingers, he sank between Hermione’s legs. He licked his way up her thighs and pressed his tongue into her without pretense.
Hermione mewled, overly sensitive, and sore from the stretch. But even with the assault of his tongue, George was delicate and gentle, calming the throbbing pulse in her limbs and bringing her back down to earth.
“I could eat you out for hours,” George said when he finally came up for air. Hermione’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head at the idea of George, with his teasing touch, edging her again and again. It was enough to make her come all over again.
“When you’re full with our baby,” Fred said, “We can take turns.”
“I hear that stimulates birth,” George approved.
“Among other things,” Fred added.
"Fred and George pulled away, and Hermione whined at the abrupt absence. She couldn't do much else with a body that had gone boneless.
“Don’t worry, love, just taking you for a ride,” George grinned, standing above her. Even in the dim light, Hermione could make out the large tent in his low-slung pajama bottoms.
“A little breather,” Fred agreed, also standing. Hermione was quite certain his bulge was even larger.
Fred and George helped hoist Hermione off the couch. She wobbled, unsure she'd even be able to walk. One of them must have read her mind, and a pop of apparation later, and they were lowering her onto the edge of her own bed. Usually, their erratic apparition bothered her, but Gods she was thankful for it now.
Hermione could only sit there, helpless, as she watched them tug shirts over their heads. Her throat caught on a swallow because, fuck, they were sexy with sculpted bodies that glowed in the moonlight. A slashing scar from the Final Battle across Fred’s torso was the only difference she could discern in the dark.
Hermione could not look away as they stripped off their pajama pants, and their cocks sprung at attention. It wasn’t a shock they wore nothing underneath, but Hermione still gasped and squirmed all the same. Her eyes had not been playing tricks on her in the dark. Their cocks stretched as long and thick as she'd imagined, leaking and bobbing for her.
The way they climbed onto the bed and descended on her once again with their mouths and hands made her wonder if they’d planned it like this. Usually, she’d be offended at the thought of them talking about her body without her present, but she was so lost in their touch she didn’t mind one bit.
George pulled her against him, guiding her to lie on her side and kissing her soothingly. His serenity settled her nerves and calmed her heart.
“You want both of us, right? Together?” George asked, keeping his forehead pressed to hers and his voice low. With how Fred’s cock pressed against her vulva from behind and George’s from the front, there was no mistaking their intentions.
“Is that even possible?” she breathed. George ran his hands up and down her arms in lieu of a reply, making her feel safe. Fred kissed the back of her neck, reassuring her that she was cared for.
“Anything’s possible with us.” Fred’s playfulness fueled her, making her laugh slightly.
“Then I want you together,” Hermione whined, “now, please.”
In response to her plea, Fred snapped his fingers, and she felt lube gush from her center.
George surged forward to kiss her roughly before pulling back to allow Hermione to kiss Fred while he focused on crooking her thigh over his and lining up with her entrance.
George thrust in with one delectable slide, the full girth of him impaling her to the hilt. Hermione groaned and settled into the stretch, not quite believing she could get any fuller than this.
Fred, ever-confident that he could do the impossible, braced her against his body and nudged his cockhead in, rolling his hips to slowly slide his cock right up against his brother’s.
Hermione was reduced to high-keening whines and scrambled to hold onto George as Fred pushed in inch by inch. Her heart was on overdrive, both bursting with lust and clenching with fear of the unexplored.
“Relax, Hermione,” George murmured soothingly into her ear.
“You’re taking us so well,” Fred groaned as he finally slid his full length into her. “Fuck, it's like you were made for us, Hermione.”
“Are you okay?” George asked, checking in, his hand cupping her cheek, “we can stop any time.”
Though she held onto George for dear life, Hermione shook her head. “No, it feels good. It feels so right.”
At that moment, she knew she wanted this more than anything and tried to shift her hips to prove it, but the fullness was too much.
“It’s okay love, just enjoy yourself and we’ll do the rest,” Fred groaned in her ear, smoothing his hands over her breasts.
When she stilled, George kissed her softly, “such a good girl for Daddy.”
Hermione sighed, feeling her heartbeat starting to calm as she lay with both their cocks inside of her. She couldn’t help but tease, “Which of you is Daddy?”
“Good question. Maybe we should be Fraddy and Gaddy?” George asked.
Hermione could feel Fred's shrug straight down to her pussy. Every shift they made reminded her just how full she was, but it was good with Fred and George like this. It was nice to lighten the mood and make the situation less intense.
“Oh, that’s horrible,” she laughed, then groaned as the motion of it reverberated through her entire being. Every tiny movement was a small step towards orgasm, building from just being filled by them.
“Don’t laugh,” Fred groaned.
“Merlin, please don’t laugh,” George agreed.
But it only made Hermione laugh harder, great chuckles that shook her chest and their joined bodies in an irrepressible jiggle. The twins groaned, their bodies tensing as if anything could trip their inevitable decline.
Fred covered her mouth with his hand and pulled her head to lean back on his shoulder.
“Don’t laugh,” he commanded, his voice suddenly low and somber. His sudden intensity aroused her instantly; for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to fuck only Fred. She wanted him on top of her, pounding into her with her hands tied above her head and his hand at her throat.
Fred’s hand drifted up her chest as if he knew what she was thinking. He tweaked her nipples, causing her to gasp at the pleasure-filled pain, and then moved higher. He pressed his fingers firmly against the column of her neck as he rolled his hips. Hermione moaned, thinking of the bruise he might possibly leave.
The twins thrusted and retreated as one, their minds and bodies working a unified rhythm. Hermione whimpered in time with the powerful thrusts, her hole now dripping with mounting arousal.
Hermione’s mind grew heavy with lust. She was no longer coherent enough to form words. Instead, she just whined and gasped at each of their movements. She cried and panted with little squeals of pleasure that built as the pain of the stretch eased, and her ecstasy began to climb. Her thighs shook harder than they had on the couch. This was heaven, and she hadn’t even come yet.
The twisting glow on their bodies burned brighter as they fucked. It lit the room, exposing every freckle and hair. It sealed the three of them in love and saturated the room with a magical bond they’d never be able to deny.
George moved his hand between Hermione’s legs again. His touch was almost nonexistent, but on her swollen clit, it felt like a bolt of lightning surging through her body.
Hermione found herself fantasizing again, this time about George. How he would use soft, teasing touches to never quite satisfy her craving for directness. How he would edge her for hours until she came without him even having to enter her. And then, when he finally did…
Fuck, it was too much to think about right now. Fred and George pulled her from her fantasy as they moved their hips in just the perfect way for one to find her g-spot while the other thrust deeper, hitting her cervix so hard she cried out and lost all sense of control.
Light illuminated the room, cracking with white magic as the three of them cried out in pleasure. They exploded together. Hermione felt the hot seed spill inside her, coating her insides and filling her to the brim.
As the light dimmed, the three caught their breaths, slumping together in a pile of sweaty limbs and limp muscles. Hermione pressed her forehead to George’s shoulder while Fred petted her hair while they all attempted to catch their breath.
Together, the twins shifted her, careful not to jostle her too much as they withdrew their softening cocks.
Hermione untangled her legs and rolled onto her back so that she could look between them as the glow of the Vow finally faded and left them in darkness.
Hermione knew they would always be together. From now on, it was the three of them. Soon to be four.
She reached out, taking one of their hands in each of hers, and pressed them to her stomach, where she knew there was already a baby growing inside of her.
“We’re going to have the most beautiful baby,” she whispered.
“You’re right about that,” the twins said in unison.
Nine months later, they found out they were wrong.
“Took awhile to get here, but not a bad birthday present after all,” Fred said, with their daughter already in his arms.
“Seems like we got some good luck even,” George said, holding their son for the first time.
Hermione looked at their newborn twins side by side, with ginger curls and tanned skin. They were almost identical but not quite, just like their fathers.
They were both.