Author's Note: So, this will be my contribution to Human Multitaskers Monthly Writing Contest (Harry Potter Edition) of February 2012. You could vote for me on their page here between February 20 and March 5 (.net/u/3342434/The_Human_Multitaskers).

Cat. Hermione/Fred. "How about now?"

She just couldn't... focus on whatever she was reading, catching herself running through the very same paragraph for about the fourth time already... The heavy book slipped from between her fingers and fell quietly in her lap. She sighed, leaning against the headboard of the bed and letting her soft brown eyes fall shut. As she did so, she first realized the quiet of the room she shared with Ginny – it wasn't often so, especially if the latter was there as well. The only sound that could be heard, was Crookshanks' lazy purring. Eyes opening, she cast her gaze aside to look at the large orange half-Kneazle cat beside her on the bed. She reached over to scratch him gently behind his ear and chuckled softly as he rolled from his side over onto his back, stretching his paws upward... beginning to make kneading motions in mid-air as his purrs grew louder. She would never get why Ronald could hate him so much. She sighed, her hand coming to a halt behind the large ginger cat's ear. When she did not continue scratching soon, he swatted his paw at her hand. She giggled, shaking her head at him, then retracting her hand and moving to take her book again in order to try continue reading... when suddenly...

BANG!

The unanticipated sound of Apparition had terrified Crookshanks so much that within mere seconds, he had scurried under the bed... curling up, hissing wildly at the seeming threat.

"Fred!" Hermione called, moving onto hands and knees, the book which she had tried to read sliding down on the mattress, and passing over to the edge of the bed, lowering herself over it so that she could look underneath at the very frightened half-Kneazle. "Everything's alright, Crookshanks..."

However, as she tried to reach for him in hopes that gently stroking him would work calming as it sometimes actually did, he swatted at her a little less gently than last. Immediately retracting her hand and sitting up on the bed once more, the blood already welled from beneath the soft surface... the long even scratched his nails had left behind having cut straight through the skin. She fleetingly reached for her wand upon the night table with her left, unharmed hand and quietly sealed the wound before it would bleed harder. Of course, Healing spells and a certain few others could be used not within the confines of Hogwarts – if in the best of interests for the pupil, one could barely condemn them for Healing. Why would anyone use them unless when needed either way? Satisfied with how easily the wound closed again to leave only very thin white lines – which would be gone in a few hours as well – Hermione slowly set her wand upon the night table again... finally eyeing the unexpected visitor.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione wondered aloud, sitting against the headboard again, arms folded over her bosom. She so reminded Fred a bit of their Professor McGonagall.

"You see, unlike what appears to be common belief... George and I aren't always together if that causes your tone of surprise," Fred said, cocking his head gently while looking at her... then conjuring a large white hanky with red dots with a mere flick of his wand... as if he had never done much else but conjure hankies for ladies who had clearly been weeping prior to his arrival. For once, his actions weren't accompanied by some silly, witty comment or a ridiculous smile or laugh – unless you counted the choice of fabric for the hanky. He just looked strangely serious.

She eyed him questioningly as she quietly accepted the weird hanky, quirking her eyebrow in wonder as her look wasn't being responded to... then let her eyes fall shut for a moment as realization suddenly dawned. "Ah. My mascara's most likely all over now?"

Fred's eyes enlarged at the unknown word. It sounded... feminine, though he had no idea what massacra or something actually was. "Whatever you call it," he said, "... but yeah, I assume so."

She giggled slightly at his response. Even if he did not try, he could still be hilarious. Reaching upward with the edge of the hanky, she blindly tried to take care of where she assumed the most damage had been done. Dabbing underneath her eyes, she tried to take away the evidence of having cried. When she thought most in fact should be gone, she looked at him once more. "Better?" she wondered, temporarily letting Fred serve as her mirror.

Fred seemed to consider it for a moment, cocking his head to look at her seriously with a frown. "Err... no," he concluded, still seeing smudges of what actually might have been liquid coal.

Sucking a tip of the conjured hanky in her mouth to wet the white and red fabric, she reached up under her eyes once more. Rubbing slightly more fiercely, she finally looked up at the identical twin after another minute. "How about now?" she wondered.

He nodded. "That's better," he stated this time upon not seeing any black smudges anymore. He sighed, moving to the bed Ginny occupied and sitting down on it. "So, who was it this time then?" he asked, somehow assuming a boy had made her feel like crying... for he slowly continued, "The Chosen One for once? Or maybe... a ginger brother of mine?"

Of course, all of his brothers were ginger... he, too. That realization at least served to make a very small giggle slip from Hermione.

"It can't have been Georgie, for he and I were together all the time today until now," he said, winking as he referred to his earlier statement. "You see, we've actually got separation anxiety... Anyhow, the little one again?"

Hermione's smiled slipped off her lips. She sighed. "I just don't know what he has against my cat. He's very intelligent."

Fred slightly rolled his eyes. "He possibly doesn't even know so himself either. I assume he just likes to be contrary and stupid. Little brothers are a pest really. Anyhow, you still look nice even with red eyes!" he said, doing his best to cheer the mood.

"You're a first," Hermione whispered, casting her gaze down... shoulders heaving.

At that very moment she felt inferior suddenly opposed to... well, he didn't know really. She shouldn't, that all that he did in fact know. "I'm sure that that's not true," he said. "Especially since the Yule Ball. Everyone was like all eyes for you – both boys... and girls. I wouldn't be surprised to learn you had managed to make some at least bisexual because of that particular, very breathtaking, feminine appearance."

Hermione was not very impressed, still-teary eyes resting upon him. "That's maybe just the issue," she said. "That person wasn't me, but a girl who went through long hours of perfecting hair and makeup. That was not me. That was a one-time-thing, and I'm definitely never doing it all again... I don't really have the patience."

She cast her gaze down once again, teary eyes fluttering shut in order to gather herself. I wouldn't do to cry over it, she knew. It didn't keep her from doing just that, though... "I have never said that you're not all nice-looking otherwise," Fred said as he stood. "You are, and the wizard that is one day marrying you will be the luckiest one alive." He bent, gentle lips falling upon the witch's for but a moment.

When she cast her gaze upward once more, a bang already had sounded to his disappearance... assumedly to rejoin his brother into mischievousness.

She quietly reached to touch her lips with her fingers where he had kissed her.

Sadly enough, at the end of the battle, he had not been alive anymore himself. He never got the chance to be lucky.