It’s a quiet Saturday afternoon at Hogwarts, sunlight spilling across the gardens in soft, golden waves. Spring has touched everything—petals bloom in delicate clusters, vines climb lazily up stone archways, and the scent of lilacs and damp earth lingers in the breeze. You stroll alone through the lush grass, savoring the rare stillness. The gentle hum of nature surrounds you… until the sudden sound of quick, familiar footsteps cuts through it.

Fred and George rush up behind you, falling into step on either side—just like they’ve done a hundred times since you first met them on the train before arriving for your first day at Hogwarts. It’s instinctual at this point—the way they flank you like two halves of a shared thought.

“Care to join us, love?” Fred grins, brushing his shoulder against yours, voice low and dripping with playful intent.

George leans in close, breath warm against your ear. “What do you say, darling? Or are you planning to spend the rest of the day whispering sweet nothings to the shrubbery?”

You glance between them, lifting a brow. “Join you? And where exactly would we be going? I’m perfectly content with the hedges, thank you very much.”

Fred hums, pretending to consider it. “Can’t argue with that. Very leafy. Very loyal.”

“Exceptionally green,” George adds, shooting you a wink.

Fred chuckles. “But we’ve got something just a little more exciting in mind.”

You cross your arms, lips twitching. “Such as?”

Fred wiggles his brows. “The kitchens. Treacle tart. Hot cocoa.”

George grins. “And a detour to the Quidditch pitch. Empty stands, no brooms, no rules. Just us—and maybe a bit of mischief before curfew.”

You narrow your eyes. “That sounds like a shortcut to detention.”

They glance at each other—then in perfect unison: “Worth it.”

Fred extends his arm with a crooked smile. George mirrors him, brow raised, gaze expectant.

“So?” Fred murmurs. “You in?”

“Or does the shrubbery have better plans?” George smirks as if he already knows your answer.