"Why?"

"Because I'm having a party."

"You want cupcakes at an after-party?"

"Well, not necessarily cupcakes…"

"But baking? At an after-party?"

"Also a farewell party for Angelina, but what's wrong with that?"

Hermione snorted.

"Ginny, in my experience, those kinds of parties involve alcohol, loud music and dancing. Not baked goods."

"Hey, no one said you couldn't slip some stuff in there. Besides, I still want food there," Ginny insisted. "It's Angelina's final match, so the after-party/farewell party has to be perfect and I'm organising the thing so I want this to be perfect."

"Okay, okay, fine," Hermione conceded. "But why aren't you asking your mother? You know she cooks much better than I do."

"You know why. She's leaving for Italy tomorrow," Ginny explained. "Holiday with Dad."

"Ah."

"Ah. So you're baking for me since I sure as hell won't be asking anyone else. Merlin knows the boys can't crack an egg, let alone bake."

"Pretty sure they can crack an egg, judging from all the mess they make. What about Fleur?"

"She makes good French food, which she is making for me, but baking isn't her strong suit."

"And it's mine?"

"Yes, and you know it."

"Fine. What about Tonks?"

Ginny snorted.

"Hermione, she almost curdled the milk warming it up for Teddy. No offence to her."

Hermione let out a sigh. Clearly, she isn't getting out of this.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Ginny grinned and threw an arm around Hermione.

"Don't know why you were so resistant to it in the first place."

"Hello, Granger."

Hermione's head, and eyebrows, raised when she felt an arm thrown across her shoulders. Her brown-eyed gaze was met with that of Fred Weasley's, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello," she said, going back to the batter she was stirring. Living at the twins' flat for long enough - and her not so subtle crush on Fred - had rendered her almost always indifferent to their antics. Almost. "Where's George?"

"Down in the shop." Fred answered. "Said I could take a break since there wasn't much traffic down there."

"And what havoc do you mean to wreck here?"

"Oh, come on, Granger," he said jovially. "Give me a little credit. I don't mean to wreak any havoc whatsoever."

"You'd better not," Hermione scoffed. "Ginny will murder you in your sleep if you do. These cupcakes are for her party tonight."

"Oh, I know." His attention was then grabbed by something else. "What's this?"

Hermione looked up to find Fred pulling off the stopper to a bottle of coconut rum.

"Hey!" She hastily reached out and grabbed the bottle out of his hands, thankfully just before he was able to take a sip. "That's for the cupcakes." She had taken Ginny's suggestion into consideration.

"The cupcakes?"

"Yes, the cupcakes. Well, the other cupcakes."

"Is that why have you got so much alcohol?" Fred asked, nodding to the collection of alcohol grouped in one corner of the bench, which may or may not have included vodka, brandy, bourbon, champagne and coconut rum.

"Yes, for the sweets I'm baking for Ginny's party."

"You're putting alcohol in baking?"

"It was Ginny's suggestion."

"That makes sense." He eyed the liquor stash, eyebrows creasing. "How did you even manage to get them past us into the flat?" he asked, somewhat incredulously.

Hermione grinned mischievously and winked.

"I have my ways."

Fred raised an eyebrow at her.

"Meaning you sneaked them in late last night?"

"I am not a thirteen year old."

He gave her a long look. Hermione huffed exasperatedly.

"How do you always manage to sniff out my tricks?"

"Because they are the tricks of a thirteen-year-old."

Hermione gave him a glare, which he ignored. She rolled her eyes and went back to her batter. He seemed strangely silent, which Hermione was slightly suspicious of but was comfortable with nonetheless.

Until about a minute later.

"This is good brandy."

She looked up, horrified to find Fred had managed to open the bottle of brandy (how did he do that without alerting her?) and had taken a swig.

"Fred!"

She strode over and snatched the bottle out of his hands once again.

"I had to buy these, and I would like to not have to spend any more of my money just because you can't control your alcohol-deprived instincts, thank you very much."

"Ah, but those are the instincts I'd love to lose control over," he said, giving her a winning smile that made her insides flutter - more than flutter; it was a butterfly house in there. Then he added with a wink, "Along with a few other instincts."

Hermione huffed, but was shaking her head exasperatedly, even though his insinuation had set off a flush in her cheeks and a flop in her stomach. Why is it that she could never keep her anger long enough when it comes to him? Oh wait, her small (not so small) crush on him couldn't have anything to do with it, could it?

"Get out, you," she said good-naturedly, smacking him gently on the arm before going back to her nearly finished batter. "I'm trying to bake. If I have a screaming, angry Ginny on me tonight because I haven't made the goods in time, I'll be laying the blame on you."

"Aw, but I want to help."

Hermione raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You want to help?"

"Yeah," he said, striding over and picking up a spatula. "Assign me a task and I will accomplish it to your desires."

Or try to, Hermione thought.

"Why?" she asked out loud.

"Why? Because I am nice and a good friend." He gave her an angelic smile.

"Why?"

Fred just kept smiling at her. She gave him a look.

"Fine," he cracked. "Ginny made me."

She kept giving him the look.

It took a little bit longer, but his resolve while faced with her stare was as fragile as the shell of a macaroon.

"Oh, fine then," he said. "George and I are planning to sneak into her party tonight."

"You'd better not wreak havoc in there," Hermione warned. "Ginny will incapacitate you if you mess up her party."

"Nah," he said. "We were just hoping to pick up a few birds."

Hermione gave him an odd look.

"What? All of the Harpies are going to be there," Fred exclaimed. "Might as well."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And how exactly does helping me bake the refreshments help with that?"

"I'm not exactly sure, to be honest," Fred said, looking thoughtful. "Maybe it'll be making sure we have adequate refreshments as we're flirting tonight." She glared at him for doubting the adequacy of her baking. "Maybe you could help me practice a few pick-up lines, make up some new ones while we're at it."

Hermione shook her head. She pursed her lips, deciding that maybe she could use some help after all.

She chucked a packet of cupcake paper cups at him, which he caught with ease.

"Then help me, you useless twit," she said, smiling. "Line those trays with those for me."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave her a military-style salute.

Once he was done lining the cupcake trays, she spooned the batter into the trays, making sure they were even.

"Okay, pop them in the oven for me," she said, getting started with the next batch of batter for the chocolate pecan balls. "Careful, it's hot."

Seconds later, she heard a scream coming from the oven. Scared that Fred had gotten himself a burn, her gaze was jerked from the mixing bowl to him.

"Ahh, my face! It's burning!"

She gave an exasperated sigh when all she saw was Fred cringing away from the opening of the oven, the heat evidently getting to him. She strode over, and took the cupcake trays from him.

"I told you it was hot. That's why you don't stand directly in front of a hot oven when you open it," she said, sliding the trays into the oven and set the timer, before turning around to find a pouting Fred.

"You could have told me that earlier. My face could have been burnt," he said, looking petulant. Then his face lit up. "I've got it!"

"Got what?" Hermione asked warily.

"A pick-up line!"

Hermione snorted, walking back to her mixing bowl.

"What is it?"

"Whenever I think about you, I get heartburn."

Hermione burst out laughing so hard, she nearly spilled flour all over the bench top. When she had managed to stop laughing long enough, she looked Fred square in the eyes and stated, "Definitely not."

He gave her a mock glare.

"You could have pretended to like it."

Hermione stopped laughing and smiled mockingly pitifully, reaching up to pat his cheeks.

"Aaw, I'm sorry," she said, trying hard to keep a straight face. Her face turned matter-of-fact. "But that wasn't even a pick-up line. That was a soppy in-a-relationship line."

"It's not that soppy."

"You're right. It's not soppy at all," Hermione said, adding sugar into her mix. "Can't be good to tell a girl she gives you heartburn."

"What's wrong with heartburn?"

"Heartburn is a form of indigestion that is felt as a burning in the chest, due to acid regurgitation in the oesophagus."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"What if I meant it as whenever I think about you, my heart bursts into flames?"

"That's not good either."

"Bursts into flames of passion."

"But most people will understand it my way."

"Fine, then," Fred pouted - adorably. "You give me a line to use."

"Just use the cliche ones," she said dismissively. "Make it sound sweet, and those girls will be all over you."

"Can I practice on you?"

"It won't work on me," she said matter-of-factly. "I know you're trying to hit on me, so it doesn't work."

"Okay, fine," he conceded. "Just give me an opinion on my lines, okay?"

She shrugged. It can't be that bad, right?

"If you must."

"Okay." Fred went silent in thought. "Okay, first one." He looked over and gave her a grin, which set off the butterfly house in her stomach again. "Your smile is like the Expelliarmus - simple, yet disarming."

Hermione chuckled, although she was trying to stop a blush from spreading itself over her cheeks. What would it be like if Fred had said that to her?

"That one's old," she said. "But it's sweet, I guess. But most people have heard it by now."

"Okay. Are you a Dementor? Because you're taking my breathe away."

"Definitely not. Don't call a girl a Dementor."

"Okay. Without you, I feel like I am in Azkaban and Dementors are sucking away my soul."

Hermione chuckled.

"Better, but it's a relationship line. Not good for picking up girls, especially if you've never met them before and insists that being without them is like having your soul sucked out." Fred rolled his eyes. Only Hermione Granger can analyse a pick-up line. She stopped stirring, head cocked in thought. "You'd be dead by now though, seeing as you've never been around them before." A small shiver wracked her body. "Actually, you'd be worse than dead."

"Okay, change of topic." Hermione was grateful. Her thoughts were straying into dark territories. "Have you heard of Platform 9 and 3/4? Well, I can think of something else with the exact same measurements," he said with a wink.

"Never thought you were the type to go for crude, dirty pick-up lines," Hermione responded.

"Think I can use it on the Harpies?"

Hermione considered it.

"Maybe," she conceded. "On the sluttier ones."

Fred raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement.

"Would it work on you?"

She didn't even need to think about it.

"No."

"Didn't think so. Shouldn't have said it."

What was that supposed to mean?

"Okay. What about 'I must have had some Felix Felicis, because I think I'm about to get lucky.'"

Hermione giggled.

"Better. Not as crude, but it infers that you want to…erm, have your way with her that night."

"Are you using the Confundus charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?" Fred allowed a little more sincerity into his words, hoping she'd start catching onto his game.

"That's good. Good conversation starter. Gets the lady charmed too."

"I know we're not in Professor Flitwick's class, but you still are charming."

And she was catching on, alright. She hadn't missed the slight lowering in volume and tone of his voice.

"Pretty good. They'd have to have gone to Hogwarts in the past, what, 20 years, though."

"You must be my horcrux, because you complete me."She didn't miss how close he was to her now, either.

"Sweet, but don't call a girl a horcrux."

"If I were to look into the Mirror of Erised, I'd see the two of us together."

"Aaw, that's sweet." He wasn't…was he?

"You must be magical, because I've fallen under your spell."

Hermione spun around to find Fred's green eyes gazing quite intently at her. She was surprised to see a hint of a shy smile on his face. Since when was Fred Weasley shy?

"That wasn't really pick-up lines practicing, was it?" she asked, unsure. Fred's smile grew.

"No."

"Then what was it?"

"My admission of affection for you."

"Affection?" In her mental dictionary, 'affection' was a gentle feeling of fondness. Saying she was disappointed was a severe understatement.

"More than affection."

"What then?"

Fred's inner monologue struggled, probing frantically around in his vocabulary to find a suitable word for the feelings he was feeling towards this cute, amazing witch. But he couldn't.

"Let me just say this simply," he stated. "I'm in love with you. I don't know when, I don't know how, but sometime in the past 5 years, I have fallen in love with you. And I am hoping desperately that you feel the same."

Hermione beamed.

"I do."

Their smiles could have lit up the whole room, which would have been convenient as the sky outside was getting darker as night settled in. Neither of them noticed, though, as Fred pulled Hermione against him and placed a deep kiss on her lips. Hermione smiled, kissing him back, pulling him closer to her. Neither of them noticed George, Angelina and Ginny's abrupt halt at the door to the flat, who then hurriedly walking back down to the shop, one face shocked, one amused and one smug (guess which is whose).

In fact, both of them were very comfortable and content with their position as of that moment.

Until the alarm went off.

They jumped in surprise, before realising what the ear-piercing ringing noise was.

"Oh, the cupcakes," Hermione exclaimed. She hurried over to the oven and took the cupcake trays out. "Oh, thank Merlin, they're not burnt."

Belatedly, she realised it was already nearly five o'clock, and remembered that she was supposed to have the baked goods at Ginny's party venue by seven. Speaking of Ginny's party…

"I suppose you won't have to sneak into the party anymore, hey?" she smiled slyly at Fred, who walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Nope, I've got what I want right here," he said. "You know, we weren't really going to sneak into the party," he admitted.

"What?

"That was just an excuse I made up on the spot to help you with your baking," he explained. "It worked out well enough." Hermione laughed.

"Guess it did. Now let go of me and let me get back to my baking."

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