It was the same game every day for the last bloody year. Hermione would eye Fred and quickly look away when she caught his attention, a blush stained to her face. He would stop looking at her, and Hermione would find herself biting her lip at the thoughts that had crossed her mind over the course of time. The bus would come to a stop, and Hermione would quickly exit before Fred had the chance to patronize her over her longing glances.
We have an agreement. Hermione told herself, standing up as tall as she could manage on the bus the day the event happen. This is the Muggle world, and we don't know each other. So, don't look at him.
Hey now, she began to patronize herself, Ever heard of the expression 'look but don't touch?' Plenty of people do that to strangers. Just one glance-
Hermione froze mid-thought as the bus jolted to a surprising stop sending her flying into the one lap she didn't need to be in: Fred Weasley's.
"Um, oh my," Hermione had a million thoughts running through her mind. What the bloody hell was she supposed to say?
Apologize you idiot! She yelled at herself. Then get off of his bloody lap.
Hermione felt her body shiver at the thought of being in this particular man's lap, and she couldn't bring herself to form a coherent sentence. "I… This… Um-"
"Granger," Fred silenced her with that wicked grin of his, hands lacing around her waist. "It's about bloody time you got here. I've been trying to get you to fall into my arms every day since we met."
"Fred," Hermione whispered, a questioning look on her face as his lips connected with her neck. "F-Fred."
"Hmm?" Fred murmured. Hermione could feel the smirk against her skin before he broke the contact. "It's not like you don't think about this too, Hermione. I've noticed your heated glances. Just go with it."
Hermione did exactly what Fred suggested and let her lips slam into his, pulling him on top of her in the seat.