"Fred?"
Fred Weasley glanced down at the sound of his name and the soft hand touching his arm as he made his way out of the Great Hall after lunch.
"Hey, Hermione," he grinned at his fellow Gryffindor.
"Could I talk to you for a minute? In private?" Hermione asked, looking nervous.
"Um, sure. Let's go in here." Fred glanced around quickly to be sure no one noticed them, then guided Hermione into one of the castle's secret passages.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone with Hermione. Usually, she was with her best mates - his little brother, Ron, and Harry Potter – or his sister Ginny. Not that he noticed her presence or lack thereof. All the time.
Once they were hidden away, he looked at her expectantly.
"So, um, how are you?" Hermione asked.
"Good. Good. You?" Fred replied, bemused.
"Oh, I'm fine. How's, uh, Quidditch practice going?"
"We don't have Quidditch this year, remember? Because of the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Oh, right." Hermione gave her head a little shake.
"Hermione, are you OK?" Fred was starting to feel concerned. He'd never seen the pretty Gryffindor so agitated. She usually exuded confidence, well-deserved with a brain like hers. Fred was willing to admit to himself that her confidence made her even more fanciable; not that he'd ever tell anyone else that, of course.
"I...well...it's just...," Hermione stumbled over her words, refusing to look at Fred. Taking a deep breath, she blurted, "I'm going to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum and I've never been out with a guy before and I don't know how to act or what to say and there aren't books for this sort of thing and I didn't know who else to ask and can you help me?" she ended breathlessly, her cheeks turning pink.
Fred grinned widely. "Oh ho! What's this? Something 'the brightest witch of her age' doesn't know?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Hermione glared back. "Never mind," she huffed. "I should have known you'd treat it like a joke." She began to move away, back toward the secret entrance, when Fred grabbed her hand.
"No, I'm sorry. I couldn't help teasing you. It's just such a novelty, having you come to me for help," Fred said, donning his most repentant expression. Hermione narrowed her eyes, judging his sincerity. Fred, suddenly realizing how much he wanted to be someone she turned to for help, did his best to look trustworthy.
"OK, but no more laughing at me," Hermione said, giving Fred a stern look and tossing her thick curls over her shoulder.
"Deal," said Fred, surprised at the relief he felt that she relented. "Right, so you want to know how to act on this date?"
Hermione nodded.
"Can I ask...why did you come to me? Why not ask Ron or Harry?"
"Oh, them," she scoffed. "As if they'd know how to behave on a date."
Fred laughed.
"And I couldn't bear to ask Lavender or Parvati. All that giggling!" Hermione gave a little shudder. "Isn't George dating Katie Bell? I don't think she'd appreciate it if I asked her boyfriend about dating and, you know..." Hermione gestured vaguely.
"So I'm your last resort, huh?" Fred asked with a grin. Hermione thought she detected a hint of wistfulness in his eyes and hastily tried to reassure him.
"Well, no, I just thought...you've dated girls before, and you're a boy, and I'm pretty sure you'll be honest..." she tapered off.
"It's OK, Hermione, I don't mind being your own personal Dating Expert. What do you want to know?"
Hermione scuffed a toe against the stone floor, looking down and thinking about how to ask what she really wanted to know. Finally, she settled for an easier topic.
"What do boys like to talk about?" she asked.
"Themselves, of course," Fred answered. She shot him a narrow look. "No, really. We want you to be impressed with us and how extremely cool we are. Get a guy talking about himself, nod occasionally, laugh at his jokes, and he'll think you're the greatest conversationalist in the world. I imagine that's especially true for someone like Krum who's already famous."
"Are you calling Viktor a narcissist?" asked Hermione, eyes snapping.
"A what?" Fred squinted at her. "Oh, well, maybe, but most guys are, you know? They need to be reassured that they're interesting and fanciable. They can't all have my dashing good looks and buckets of charm to impress the ladies."
Hermione chuckled in spite of herself.
"Mmm," she said, noncommittally. "OK, ask questions about him. Got it. What else?"
Fred leaned his lanky body against the corridor wall, folding his arms across his chest and propping his foot on the wall behind him. He watched as Hermione paced in front of him. She appeared to be listening to his suggestions for topics of discussion with the Durmstrang wizard, but he could tell that part of that formidable brain was working on another problem. He talked, she paced, nodding occasionally. Finally, she stopped abruptly in front of him, interrupting his tips on how to discuss Quidditch with a pro like Krum.
"Fred, what if...what if he wants to...kiss?" The last word came out in an agonized whisper. Fred nearly burst out laughing, positive that Krum would want to kiss the pretty brunette, but Hermione looked so nervous, even a little lost, that Fred's mirth dried up quickly. Then he felt a twinge of jealousy as he pictured Hermione kissing Krum. Where did that come from?
"Kiss?" Fred asked, pushing away from the wall.
"Yeah," said Hermione, wringing her hands as a blush stole over her face. "What...How..." She couldn't say it.
"So, um, you haven't ever..." Fred gestured helplessly, not sure how to ask if she'd ever been kissed and not sure he wanted to know the answer anyway.
"Yes, I have," Hermione said, and Fred's stomach plummeted. "Ben, my next door neighbor, kissed me when I was home from school last summer."
Fred tried not to scowl.
"But I don't think he did it right," Hermione said, furrowing her brow and thinking about the clumsy, wet kiss. "It wasn't very pleasant."
Fred felt better.
This isn't helping, Hermione thought. Stop beating around the bush and just ask the question!
"Fred...what if I do it wrong?" Hermione's face flushed scarlet. "What if...what if I'm no good at kissing? What if I – gulp – fail?"
Fred gave her a soft smile. She was looking up at him so earnestly, her clear hazel eyes full of self-doubt when they were usually brimming with confidence and intelligence.
"Ah," he said wisely. "Something you can't learn from a book, right?"
She nodded miserably.
"Hermione," he said, bending toward her and raising a finger to gently push a curl behind her ear. "Just trust your instincts."
Hermione looked into his bright blue eyes, usually full of mirth and mischief but now looking at her with tenderness. Her eyes drifted to his mouth, mere inches from her own.
"Trust my instincts," she whispered.
Fred's finger was now caressing her cheek, sending little tingles throughout her body. She reached out a small hand to touch his cheek, still gazing at his mouth. She heard him inhale sharply at her soft touch. Slowly, Hermione licked her lips and leaned forward until her mouth was a hairsbreadth from his.
Fred was holding his breath, hardly daring to move in case he startled Hermione out of whatever trance she was in. He watched as she drew closer and closer, apparently mesmerized by his lips. Suddenly, her eyes flicked upward and she met his gaze, her mouth hovering over his. He waited.
Her eyes on Fred's, Hermione suddenly realized what was about to happen. She blinked, then shifted her gaze to her hand, now cupping Fred's cheek.
Fred saw it in her eyes when Hermione came back to reality. She dropped her hand and stepped away quickly, face burning again.
"Umm..." she looked at the floor, the ceiling, down the corridor, anywhere but at Fred. "Well, I'd better go get ready for tonight. The ball. Viktor." And she fled.
Fred watched her go, feeling a little lightheaded and breathless.