Hermione feverishly ran a finger through her study guide for History of Magic. It had been another long night in the Gryffindor common room with final exams on their heels. Students lay sprawled out on the couches, chairs, even the floor fast asleep with bits of parchment or books on top of them. She cast a cautious glance at the old grandfather clock in the dimming light of the common room. Quarter past two. Hermione slumped against her workstation, realizing she had been studying for ten straight hours. Lavender Brown coughed and stirred in her sleep, causing Hermione to straighten up with a jerk. She blearily rubbed the sleep from her eyes and resolutely ploughed through her notes for a solid five minutes before collapsing on top of them again. After a few minutes, Hermione was once again awakened. She heard footsteps tip-toeing through the room and made out a tall lanky figure with a burst of red hair, which was visible even through the near darkness.
"Fred?" She whispered, her voice still hoarse from lack of use. The figure twitched towards her, almost as if it was unsure whether it had hear her or not, then continued walking. "Fred, it's me," She tried again, louder this time. She walked clumsily to where the figure was and tugged on his sleeve.
"Hermione," The figure turned and Hermione was greeted by Fred Weasley's kind, albeit tired, face "What are you still doing up?" He cast an amused look around the common room. "Still studying?"
"Exams are next week," Hermione supplied. "What are you doing here? If she catches you, you're done for. I don't think she's forgotten about the giant firecracker dragon trying to swallow her."
"I won't get caught," Fred replied stoutly, but smirked at the memory. Fred shifted away from Hermione and towards a painting where Hermione knew there was a secret passageway.
"May I ask where you're going?" Hermione managed a disapproving glare, despite her extreme exhaustion. The effect must not have been very threatening because Fred bit his lip to keep from laughing.
"Nope," Fred replied casually. Catching Hermione's concerned expression, Fred rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I'll be fine. You're worse than my dear old mum, you are."
Hermione sighed, realizing that Fred, along with George, was as stubborn as she was and she had no hope dissuading them from whatever they were up to. Fred flashed her a crooked grin before disappearing behind the painting and silently shutting the entrance behind him. Hermione stumbled back to her original spot (almost stepping on Parvati Patil's face in her state of sleep deprivation) and fell asleep on the common room floor.
Morning came too quickly as usual and Hermione woke up to the sound of her classmates yawning and stretching as the headed towards their dormitories to get dressed. Hermione got up and stretched her sore limbs and hurried over to the girls' dormitory. She hastily slid on her uniform, brushed her teeth, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron and Harry were waiting for her already and Harry scooted to his left so Hermione could sit with them.
"Merlin, Hermione, what happened to you?" Ron asked, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and her exhausted expression. Hermione sat down and moodily started to eat a scone.
"History of Magic," She replied sourly, looking up at Ron. Suddenly, she remembered. "Ron! " She exclaimed. Ron jumped, wondering what he could have said this time. Casting a furtive look around her, Hermione continued in a lower tone, "I saw Fred in the common room yesterday." Ron looked mildly surprised.
"Really? Must've come down to nick some stuff for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," He replied conversationally.
"Isn't he worried about Umbridge?" Harry asked quietly, his left hand tightening into a fist.
"He didn't seem to be," Hermione murmured, watching Harry intently. Harry noticed this and immediately loosened his fist and put his hand under the table.
"That's the thing about Fred and George though, innit?" Ron said, stuffing his mouth with a fourth omelet. "Reckon they're not scared of anybody. Look what I found in one of George's pockets the other day," Ron fished in his own pocket and produced what looked like a decent sized piece of chocolate wrapped in gold foil. On the cover it said U-No-Poo with a picture of Voldemort on a toilet with a comically strained expression. Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, laughing for the first time in months. Hermione put her head between her hands exasperatedly, but even she couldn't hide the small smile that fought its way onto her lips.
"It's brilliant," Harry wheezed, thumping his chest and still laughing.
"That's what I said. Mum reckons they'll be murdered in their beds. I mean, after all…" Ron raised his eyebrows meaningfully before hastily stowing away the candy. The Great Hall had suddenly gotten quiet upon the arrival of a short, toad-like woman with a pink bow in her hair. She smiled with saccharine sweetness at Harry, who looked like he would like nothing better than to rip that pink bow off of her head and shove it down her throat. Hermione sensed this and placed a half-comforting, half-restraining arm on his shoulder. After Umbridge had passed their table, Harry shrugged her arm off, all traces of merriment gone from his face.
"I'm going down to Charms," Harry muttered darkly, packing up his book bag and stuffing an extra muffin in the front pocket of his bag. He swung it over his shoulder, almost clipping a first year in the ear, and trudged down the hall with few Gryffindors. Hermione and Ron sat in agreeable silence; him wolfing down whatever he could lay his hands on and her studying as usual.
"'Mione, stop it. You're making me nervous," Ron complained, covering her notes with his large hand.
Hermione cupped her chin in her hand and looked bemused. "You haven't even started studying?" She smacked away his hand lightly and continued to underline key terms in her study guide.
"No," Ron admitted. "But just looking at you study is making me queasy."
Hermione raised an eyebrow with an icy expression. "Is that right?" She glared at him and Ron backpedaled.
"Hermione. I didn't mean you, just the studying," Ron added in an anxious tone. "You have nice—nice…" Ron looked as if he wished the ground would swallow him.
"'Nice' what?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. Her expression, while still stony, had softened a bit.
"…Skin?" Ron offered. Hermione took a deep breath, praying for patience. She decided to follow Harry's suit and study in an abandoned classroom.
"I'm glad you approve of my skin, Ronald," Hermione replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm going to go study. I suggest you do the same." With a slightly pinched expression and an air of haughtiness, Hermione walked out of the Great Hall, leaving a bewildered Ron Weasley. Hermione quickly found an abandoned classroom on the second floor and attempted to finish at least half a chapter of review.
"Still at it, I see." A voice came from behind a painting of a bowl of fruit, making Hermione jump. A freckled hand emerged, pushing the painting aside and Fred clumsily tripped his way out of another secret passageway.
"Are you stalking me?" Hermione asked irritably.
"Quite the contrary, my dear. George and I have used this classroom many times for much of our tomfoolery and shenanigans. In fact, I think you are sitting in the very spot the Fanged Frisbee was invented." Fred leaned against the wall and took a bite out of a peach, holding a bag full of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in the other hand. With a lazy flick of his arm, Fred made the classroom blend into the corridor. "Simple charm to keep me and George from being disturbed when we're in here," Fred explained. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but said nothing and continued to revise. Fred laughed at her determination. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"
"Of course I have, just not in the important ways," Hermione replied a bit sharply, the events from this morning still fresh.
"Oh, touchy," Fred cringed exaggeratedly. Hermione glared at him and Fred sighed. "What did my idiot brother do this time?"
"It's not Ron," Hermione admitted. Fred made a face, which indicated that he didn't believe her for a second. Hermione put down her notes and spoke in earnest. "It really isn't. It's just… sometimes; I think all Ron sees is the bushy-haired eleven year old instead of who I am now. I thought things were going to change last year at the Yule Ball, but then there was Viktor. He just doesn't…" Hermione struggled for words, a rarity in and of itself. She glanced up at Fred taking another bite of his peach. "Never mind, just forget I said anything."
"Ron can be a bit of a prat," Fred conceded easily. "He'll come around, Hermione." Fred walked over to the seat next to Hermione and rubbed her back briefly. "If not, I'm sure there are plenty of blokes lucky to have you. You'd give Cho Chang a run for her money." Fred grinned at her while rubbing the back of his head so his hair stuck up. Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep a small smile from escaping her lips.
"Thanks, but I doubt it."
"Oh, come on. You know you're gorgeous," Fred replied casually, finishing his peach with one last bite.
Hermione looked up from her notes, surprised at his compliment. She had never considered Fred and her to be friends, and was surprised by his candidness. "You really think so?" She asked, scrutinizing him for any sign that he was making fun of her.
"Of course," Fred replied, tossing the peach pit into the garbage can.
"Thanks," Hermione said again, blushing. "Have you hidden another one of your punching telescopes in my book bag?" She asked, suddenly suspicious. "All this out-of-character sincerity looks a bit shifty."
"I resent that!" Fred replied, as he pretended to be offended.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Hermione reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," Fred laughed with a reminiscent gleam in his eye. "Good summer." Hermione hit him with her parchment.
"Not funny. Not even your mum could get out that black eye!"
"No one asked you to squeeze that telescope."
"I thought it was real!"
"Well, you should have known the hazards of stepping into the Burrow and picking up things that you weren't one hundred percent positive were Weasley Wizarding Wheezes."
"Am I interrupting?" George climbed through the passageway and dumped an even larger bag of what looked like prototypes for even more trick props. "Hey, Hermione."
Shooting a supremely smug Fred an irritated look, Hermione replied, "Hi, George. How've you been?"
"Been all right, I suppose. Mum's still being a bit unpleasant about…well, Fred and I dropping out and starting a joke shop. Dad understands, though. He hates Umbridge as much as the rest of us. I overheard him talking to Kingsley about our firecracker dragon," George said, walking over to Fred and Hermione. He smacked the back of Fred's head before sitting down.
"Ouch!" Fred exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for?"
"No flirting with Granger," George responded, grinning sardonically at the blush that crept up Hermione's neck.
"We weren't –"
"It's all right, Hermione. He was just being a git," Fred interjected, scowling at his twin. George smacked him a second time. "What the hell, George?"
"That was for leaving your knickers on the bathroom floor. No one wants to see that, mate. It's bloody disgusting."
"Oh please. Who leaves their dirty clothes hanging on the shower rod everyday?"
"That's different."
"How is that different?"
"I don't leave my knickers on the bathroom floor."
"I should go," Hermione announced abruptly, trying to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "I really need to study for this exam and …"
"Twins bickering isn't conducive to a good studying environment. Got it," George nodded, dodging Fred trying to smack him back. "We'll see you around, Hermione. Maybe Fred, more so than me. He'll be around the castle every now and again."
Fred leaned back in his chair to look at Hermione and added, "Don't worry about Ron. I can have a nice, long brotherly chat with him."
"Oh no, that's all right," Hermione replied hastily. She mentally pictured Ron's mortified expression after that talk. "I'll see you around." Hermione picked up her book bag, gave the twins a quick wave over her shoulder and disappeared from the classroom. After the door closed, George wiggled his eyebrows at Fred and gazed meaningfully at the door.
"I was not flirting with Hermione," Fred intoned.
"The lady doth protest too much," George quoted and took out a list of products from his bag. His eyes watered as Fred's hand came in contact with the back of his head.
"That's for calling me a lady."