A Fremione Fanfic: Seventh Year
Hi guys! Just a few things you should know before we get started…
This is my first fanfic, so please no hate!
It would make me so happy if you could save this story and drop a review. Please don't feel you have to praise: constructive criticism is a great way to improve!
I do not own Harry Potter: all credit goes to J.K Rowling!
Please enjoy!
Prologue:
Eight months. He hadn't seen her for eight whole months. Yet here she was in front of him, tousled auburn hair pulled up into a loose bun, she clutched a steaming mug of hot chocolate. All she wore was (what looked like) one of Ginny's old sweaters and a navy pair of ripped jeans – a strange Muggle trend that seemed to be going round at the moment.
"Hermione."
Slowly he regained his awareness. "Hermione," he repeated. "Yes, it's me Fred!" she laughed. Not the girlish giggle that most girls faked, but a joyful chuckle that made her brown doe eyes sparkle teasingly.
"Ah, Fred dearie!" smiled Mrs Weasley as she bustled into the room, swapping a befuddled glance between the pair. "Hot chocolate or coffee? I can make an English Breakfast if you'd prefer…" But her son wasn't listening. He stepped forward, shocked, as Hermione went to hug him, but thought better of it, instead grabbing his hand. (God it was smooth!) A crimson blush was now dusted across her cheeks.
"So, how's the business going?" she questioned, retrieving her dignity. "I've heard quite a bit about it." Glad to change the subject, they launched into conversation, all mention of breakfast forgotten.