A/N: I know, I know - it's been years. I'm sorry. Life is crazy... but rest assured, I still love these two. This is not my best work, but this bit of fluff has been eating at me over spring break and you know how much I love to share. I miss fanfic! Maybe this will be the start of my comeback...

Title taken from the first line of the song my husband and I first danced to. 10 house points to whoever guesses which silly 90s song it is.

A Little Love

The young man hastily opened the door to the attic bedroom and slammed it behind him.

"If Mum asks, I'm not here," he gasped, much more out of breath than he used to be when he ran up those stairs.

"If Mum asks, I'm not either," his brother answered with a nervous laugh.

"Now, that is going to be a hard sell. This is your room after all."

"Was. Was my room," Ron clarified. "Hasn't been my room in years."

"Well, I know that," George replied. "The question is, does Mum?"

"Of course she does. I moved in with you 2 years ago, remember?" Ron reminded his brother as he readjusted his bowtie for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Ah yes," George answered, playing along. "And I believe you moved out 3 days later?"

"That's the part that Mum doesn't know," Ron said. "And I'm shocked we made it til today without her finding out," he added, smiling at his brother in the mirror.

"I think your fiancee` confunded her so she wouldn't realize her baby boy was shacking up with a scarlet woman."

"She might've," Ron answered, feeling far less nervous than he did before George burst through the door of the room that used to be his.

"Does Hermione know you're wearing a muggle tuxedo?" George asked, sizing up his little brother in the mirror.

"No. But I know she's wearing a muggle dress, and I figured it'd be nice if her mother could display pictures of today without the neighbors asking questions."

"Smooth, little brother. Have you seen Hermione yet?"

"No. Is she alright?" Ron asked, his heart jumping back into his throat.

"She's fine. She looks gorgeous," George assured him. "I only saw her for a moment before I saw Mum and Ginny and went running, but she definitely looks gorgeous." Ron smiled, no doubt picturing his bride, until he realized what his brother had said in between compliments.

"Do I want to know why you're running?"

"Probably not."

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of Ginny - where's that best man of yours?" George asked, suddenly noticing the absence of The Boy Who Lived.

"Kicked him out. He got all nostalgic on me. You know how he gets."

"I do indeed," George answered, knowing Harry's post-war wistfulness well. They were all pretty sure that his emotional rants weren't entirely serious, but they'd all gotten in the habit of tossing him out before they could find out for sure. "What was it this time?"

"Remember the first wedding we went to together?" Ron asked, in a near-perfect impression of his best friend.

"Ahhh yes," George played along, in a not-so-perfect impression of Harry. "It was a beautiful day in late summer. You were wearing those dress robes the twins bought you, do you remember? Of course you do, they were magnificent. You are so lucky to have brothers as kind as those two," George finished dramatically, flopping onto Ron's old bed.

"You're going to wrinkle your dress robes if you keep rolling around like that. Add that to the list of things Mum will be mad at you for."

"What else is she going to be mad at me for?" George asked as he sat up, offended.

"Dunno," Ron replied. "Whatever it is that has you hiding in here."

"Ah yes. That." George said. Ron gave a frustrated grunt when George didn't elaborate. " Oh relax, it's not that bad. It won't stop Hermione from marrying you today or anything. Although I'd imagine there's very little I could do to stop that, considering all you've done and she hasn't chucked you yet..."

"Go ahead, get it out of your system," Ron said, sitting down next to his brother on his old bed.

"Oh, I'm not nearly finished," George replied with a wicked grin. "I have to tease enough for two. Fred would never forgive me if I let you get off easy just because he couldn't make it today." George's smile stayed wide, but his eyes softened as he talked about his twin.

The two young men sat in silence for a while.

"You know," Ron said finally, "he was the first person I told."

"Told what?"

"That I fancied Hermione." George nearly snorted with laughter.

"Ronniekins, you didn't have to tell anyone that you fancied Hermione. All of Gryffindor figured that one out after the whole Yule Ball incident. The rest of the students definitely knew by the end of that year. I'm pretty sure the Giant Squid could tell by the time Fred and I made our grand exit. Hell, I bet that old toad Umbridge gossiped about you with her cats -"

"All right, all right. I know that now. But at the time, I really thought I was hiding it. And that I'd soon get over it."

"Wrong on both counts," George sighed, shaking his head.

"Do you want to hear this story or not?" Ron asked, although George suspected he intended to tell the story regardless of his answer.

"Of course. Carry on."

"Well, if it isn't Casanova himself!" came a voice from the shadows before Ron managed to turn on the kitchen light. He jumped, startled, and the light flickered on. Magic.

"Piss off," Ron grumbled as Fred came into view. He continued his search for a midnight snack.

"Is that how you respond to a compliment? I know your mother raised you better than that."

"Hark who's talking."

"Ah, we're in that kind of mood. I see. Well I guess I won't ask you anymore questions about your lovely new lady friend, will I?"

"Ashk what you want. I'm not anshering." Ron declared, his reply garbled by the biscuit in his mouth.

"Shame," Fred sighed dramatically. "Here I was, ready to compliment you." He must have recognized the dubious look on Ron's face, for he continued. "You heard me right. If I remember correctly, Lavender Brown is quite pretty. I was just going to congratulate you on joining the ranks of Weasley men with birds who are too good looking for them."

Ron blushed, but didn't answer.

"You are still dating Miss Brown, are you not?" Fred questioned.

"Yeah," Ron answered, unenthusiastically.

"Trouble in paradise?" Fred asked, waggling his eyebrows. Ron reluctantly joined his brother at the kitchen table and offered him a biscuit. Fred accepted, giving Ron a moment to answer him.

"How could there be trouble?" Ron asked finally, resignedly. "As you said, she's better-looking than me. Things are great." Fred laughed, spraying crumbs directly at his brother. Ron disgustedly wiped them off his face.

"Sorry, Ron," Fred gasped through his guffaws. "But you must know by now- most of the girls at Hogwarts are better-looking than you. That doesn't mean you'd be happy dating them."

"Hey! I'm better-looking than plenty of the girls at Hogwarts," Ron said, defensively. When Fred rolled his eyes, Ron tried again. "I'm better looking than some of the girls at Hogwarts?"

"All right, I'll give you that. But only because of all those Slytherins who walk around looking like they've got dung under their noses all day."

"I guess I'll take what I can get," Ron laughed.

The brothers ate the remaining biscuits in silence before Fred finally confessed.

"You know, I was surprised when Ginny told me about you and Lavender. Not because she was better-looking than you - we've established that's pretty much a given - but because I always thought you and Hermione had something going on."

Ron looked away, his trademark blush staining his cheeks.

"Is she going to join us for the holiday?" Fred asked.

"No," Ron replied.

"Has somewhere more exciting to be, does she?"

"I wouldn't know," Ron answered, still not looking at his brother. "She's not speaking to me."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know," Fred apologized.

"It's fine," Ron insisted, unconvincingly.

"I guess I was wrong about you two."

"I guess you were," Ron said in a near whisper.

"I really am sorry, Ron," Fred continued, "I wasn't trying to bring up a sore subject."

Ron finally turned back to look at Fred. Confused, he asked "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Or is this all some big joke? Get little Ronnie to confess something embarrassing to you, then share it with the whole family at Christmas dinner?" Ron accused.

"Who's talking about anything embarrassing? Ginny says you snog Lavender in public all over the castle, clearly you're not embarrassed by her," Fred defended himself.

Ron faltered for a moment.

"You weren't talking about Lavender," Fred realized aloud.

"Forget it," Ron said hotly, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen door in a hurry."

"I wasn't wrong about you and Hermione, was I?" Fred called after him. Ron stopped in the doorway, but he didn't turn around.

"Yes, you were. She isn't even speaking to me, remember?"

"Of course she's not. You're snogging Lavender all over the castle. She's probably hurt."

"What could she possibly have to be hurt about?" Ron snapped, still refusing to look at his brother.

"You can't be that dense."

"I guess I can," Ron replied, defiantly. Then, "I'm not talking about this with you."

"Who are you going to talk about it with? Harry? Bit of a conflict of interest there, don't you think?" Fred asked, gently. "Look, I know why you don't trust me - I'm kind of an arse - but you're my brother. I will help you if you need it."

"I think it's a little too late for help," Ron replied, resting his forehead against the doorframe.

Fred stared at his younger brother for a moment, brows furrowed. Ron continued to lean on the doorframe, shoulders hunched, head hung low, mouth downturned. Eventually, Fred answered him with one word. "Wow."

"Wow what?" Ron snapped.

"Um, I've changed my mind. I can't help you after all," Fred confessed.

Ron turned toward him finally, panicked. "I swear on Uncle Bilius's grave, if you say anything about this conversation to anyone, I'll-"

"No, no, no," Fred cut him off, hands raised in surrender. "That's not what I meant. This is between us. I swear." Ron looked doubtful, but Fred continued, "I just don't think I can help. I mean, if you needed help getting a date, or a snog, or even a little attention, I'm your man - but what you've got going on here? This is Bill territory."

"Bill territory?" Ron repeated, confused.

"Yeah- you know, that older brother of ours who probably has some idea of what you're feeling right now, considering he's planning a wedding and all."

"Wedding? I'm not marrying Lavender-" Fred gave his brother a look. "I'm not marrying Hermione either," Ron protested.

"Ah, but that second one sounded a lot less scary, didn't it?"

"What are you trying to say?" Ron asked, panicked.

"Clearly nothing you haven't already thought about, based on that look on your face."

"This isn't what you think it is. Hermione will get over whatever's bothering her, and I'll get over... whatever this is... and we'll be friends again, and Lavender will probably chuck me, and I'm never going to get married, because have you seen how Mum's been over this wedding? I'm not getting involved in anything like this."

"Do I have your permission to speak about this very moment at your wedding?" Fred asked, knowingly.

"No permission needed. It's NOT going to happen," Ron insisted.

"Of course not," Fred said with a grin, humming the Bridal Chorus on his way out of the room.

"No one marries the first girl they fancy, anyway," Ron grumbled, following behind Fred.

"You're not talking about Lavender, are you?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Ron said with a sigh, "I'm not talking about Lavender."

"Oh, Ronnie," George said, wiping away fake tears, "That story was beautiful. But you're a liar."

"What?" Ron asked from in front of the mirror again, as he readjusted his tie for what had to be the hundredth time.

"You said that Fred was the first person you told that you fancied Hermione. According to that story, Fred was just the first person who told you that you had already fallen in love with her."

Ron turned around to look at his brother, his eyebrows knitted together in deep thought. "Same thing, no?" he replied finally, with a laugh.

"Hmmmm not quite," George replied, rolling his eyes. "Although I do think I'll steal that bit he was going to say for my Best Man speech."

"You are not my Best Man."

"I am now. You clearly kicked your other one out."

"I bet you a galleon he's waiting outside the bedroom door right now, wanting to come in but not wanting to interrupt this brotherly bonding moment."

"You're kidding."

"A galleon?" Ron asked.

George considered. "Deal."

"Oi, Harry! Come on in. Tell me if my tie is straight - I don't trust George," Ron called in the direction of the door.

Harry opened the door sheepishly. "Sorry George. You really shouldn't have bet against him."

"I guess I shouldn't have," George said with a laugh, pulling a galleon out of his pocket. "I hope you know I'm deducting this from your wages, Ron."

"That's not how bets work, George," Ron protested, taking the galleon anyway.

"I've got a bet," Harry interrupted. "I bet you both 5 galleons that my wife is going to kill you both if you spend any more time chit-chatting up here, considering your wedding ceremony is about to start any moment."

"Now there's a bet I am not willing to take," George declared, heading towards the door. "But before I take my leave, dear brother, let me congratulate you on your upcoming lifetime membership."

"Lifetime membership to what?"

"To the club of Weasley men with birds who are too good-looking for them!" George said with a wink, and he was gone.

"That's a club? I thought it was a given," Harry joked with a shrug.

"Except for your wife. She started her own 'Weasley women who are married to ugly specky gits club last year."

"Har-Har," Harry replied. "You keep that up and I'll start talking about your wife."

"I don't have one- yet," Ron grinned.

"And you won't, if you don't get your pasty arse down these stairs and out to the back garden."

"Point taken," Ron replied with a laugh as the pair made their way down the stairs. They had almost reached the back door when Ron stopped.

"You all right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I just wish Fred was here, you know?"

"I know," Harry agreed.

"I'm sorry," Ron apologized. "I shouldn't be complaining to you about -"

"You're not complaining, and you don't need to apologize," Harry insisted. "But you will need to apologize if you're late for this ceremony and your sister decides to blame me."

"Do you think George is planning something ridiculous?" Ron asked, suddenly remembering the circumstances that brought his brother to his room earlier.

"I'll handle George," Harry promised. "I just hope Fred hasn't planned anything. Him I have no control over."

Ron laughed as Harry clapped him on the shoulder and headed out into the back garden. Ron hesitated only long enough to readjust his tie before joining him.