A/N: This story isn't beta-read! If you can't stand that, then don't read
this. If you want to beta-read this, leave me an e-mail address, or send
me an e-mail. The story itself takes place at the end of the fourth book
during the train ride home. More specifically, the story is set right
after Malfoy and his two bodyguards have been cursed and dragged out of the
compartment, leaving two people in there alone. This is my first attempt
of fluff, be nice. Be kind, Read and Review.
Golden Letters
"Hermione?"
She didn't look up from her book as she murmured, "Hmm?" Turning the page, she continued reading.
"Are you and Krum still -erm- together?" Now she did look up, peering over the top of the book. Hermione eyed Fred warily; brows knitted together, and brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Did Ron ask you to ask me that? If he did, it's none of your business. Or his," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. Fred thought about changing his mind but considered it might not be too late to say something completely random. or was it? He watched her become completely absorbed in her book once again.
As he studied her read, like he had done so many other nights in the common room, he realized she was one of the only constants at Hogwarts. The surest way to know that all was well with life at school was to see her studying. If Hermione couldn't be found in the common room curled up with a book, or taking up a corner of the room with her school work, you could be sure it was the first sign of something being amidst, just short of students turning into stone.
The train compartment swayed to the rhythm of the tracks and the green countryside slid past the windows that lined each side of the compartment. The two occupants of the compartment could hear sounds coming from the other side of the door, the sounds of Ron, Harry, and George, still struggling with the unconscious Malfoy and his cronies.
He sighed, and ran a hand through his red hair. He was looking out the window, his eyes focused on a point just above Hermione's head full of brunette curls, but he barely saw the scenery. "No, Ron has nothing to do with this."
Hermione closed the book she was reading, after marking her page. "Why do you want to know?" She asked, tracing the title of the book with the nail of her index finger.
"Will you answer me first?" He asked her, watching her finger's movement over the gold embossed lettering, only slightly jealous of the attention the book was getting. He wished it were his skin that she was tracing designs on. A shiver coursed down his spine at the thought.
"I'm not dating him, if that's what you want to know." That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
"Are you going to see him over the summer?"
She smiled at him now. "Honestly," she said with a small shake of her head, which made one long coil of brown hair slide into her face. She let it hang there, obscuring one of her brown eyes. "You're just as bad as Ron."
Fred wanted nothing more then to get up, sit next to her, and take that one loose curl between his fingers to tuck it behind her ear. He liked her hair better this way, a curly mass of thick brown hair, then the smooth elegant knot she had styled her hair for the Yule Ball. She had looked stunning that night.
He wasn't the only one who thought she had looked wonderful, half the guys in the Great Hall were guilty of staring at her a little to long, and Krum, he looked at her like he absolutely adored her. He was surprised when Krum reluctantly let go of Hermione to dance with Angelina when she asked him. Hermione had stood in the middle of the dance floor, looking like she felt out of place without a partner. Fred took his cue, and asked her to dance. He hadn't wanted to let her go when the song ended. He had watched her for the rest of the night.
Now she was watching him, waiting for him to do something. He had to rack his brain to think of something to say that was fit for a Weasley Twin. "Where do you think Ron gets all that charm from?" He asked with his chest puffed out.
"Percy," Hermione replied without missing a beat, and it wasn't until Hermione smiled at him, that he knew she was teasing him. His chest instantly deflated, and he took on a look of mock hurt.
"P-Percy?" He sputtered.
"Well he has to be doing something right, he does have a steady girlfriend, unlike some." She looked pointedly at him.
He held up his hands in surrender, he could see the corners of her mouth tug up wards. "Now see, I'd have a girlfriend, if I could find the courage to ask her to be mine."
"Oh?" The trace of a smile was gone. "I think you should go talk to her, tell her what you think about her."
'No you don't!' Fred's mind was screaming. Nobody would sound that sad when being honest. "Should I tell her I think she's wonderful in everyway?"
She nodded at him while chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. She wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I will then." He got up, bowed to her with a flourish of red hair and waving arms, and he made towards the door. He turned to bid her good-bye, and saw she had gone back to tracing the letters on her book, with her eyes downcast. He knew that he couldn't leave her like that; he'd have to tell her how he felt for her.
"Hermione?" Fred asked again as he sat down next to her on the bench.
"Hmm?" His freckled hand came into view, as he took hold of hers, stopping its nervous flight over the golden letters.
"The girl I wanted had somebody already. I thought she had someone to make her happy, to make her laugh."
"But she didn't?"
"I guess not." With the hand that was not holding onto her's, he traced a line from the corner of her eye to the edge of her mouth with one long pale index finger. "Look at me Hermione."
She studied him with her brown eyes, the curl still falling down in front of her eye. He could see the confusion he had caused her.
"You're the girl I'm after, Hermione."
"I am?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted away from his face, and back to the book that rested on her lap. "Why?" The simplicity of the question spoke volumes. Everything Fred wanted hung on his answer.
"I didn't just join S.P.E.W to get you to stop bugging me about it."
That did it, she no longer looked sad, or confused, she looked down right scandalize, "Nobody did that!"
He smiled his best Weasley smile at her. "And I wasn't always down in the kitchens to nick food."
Her teeth gleamed white as she smiled at him. Fred had been one of the first to notice her teeth after Madam Profrey fixed them. "Every time I saw you there, you were eating something."
He shrugged, "Needed something to do while I was listening to those speeches you kept making."
Her eyes snapped up to look at him. He thought there was a blush rising up her cheeks. "You were listening to them? You never seemed to pay attention."
"As House Elves," Fred had taken on a false alto voice as he quoted back one of her last speeches, "You are told that you are not deserving of Freedom. The Ministry doesn't let you have wands, they don't enforce payment, and the magical community wants you to believe you are not worthy to be Free, but I believe you are!"
Now he was sure that her checks were growing red. Her eyes rested on the book again. He remembered all the times he tried to get her to sit down with him after giving her speech. Most of the time she had declined his offer, telling him she didn't want the elves to work harder for her. One night, after she gave a very vibrant speech, Hermione flopped down in the chair next to Fred. He hadn't wasted anytime in offering her a pastry, one not made by house elves, that he had gotten at Hogsmeade. She had laughed when he set it down in front of her.
That night he had walked her back to the dooms. He had listened to her chatter on about the rights of House Elves, interrupting her occasionally to stand up for the right of the Magical communities to have House Elves.
Fred moved closer, sliding along the bench, closing the small distance between their bodies. His knee pressed against her leg.
He placed his hand under her chin, and she let him guide her face up to meet his. She had closed her eyes. He gently touched the closed lid of one eye, and then the next, pushing aside the stray curl. He touched the tip of her nose, and dragged a single finger gently down, over her lips, down her chin and the pale skin of her neck. His finger came to rest on the silver clasp of her robe, and then he went back to the brown curl. He took it gently between his thumb and forefinger, before placing it behind her ear. He brought his hand back to cup under her chin, and the side of her check.
She half opened her eyes. She sought out his friendly blue eyes, and looked at him through her long lashes. This time, when their eyes meet, she didn't look away. A slow smile crept onto her face. "You like this then?" He asked. He wanted to do more with her, wrap his arms around her, kiss her lips, and her neck, but he couldn't. She was younger then him, not by much, not like Krum had been. It wasn't the age difference that kept him from doing anything, he didn't want to go too fast with her.
He leaned in closer to her; their faces almost touched. When he spoke, his voice was low, and husky, not quite his own. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" He took his hand away from her face, and dragged it through his own hair.
"No," she said, her voice still low, "it's okay." Just then, the compartment door slid open. Intently Hermione pulled her hand away from his, and he jumped to his feet before Harry, Ron, or George had a chance to see them in such close proximity.
Fred was still standing close to her, their legs could almost still touch, and Hermione thought she could still feel the warmth of him. He looked down at her, meeting his gaze, she arched one of her slender eyebrows, and chewed on her lip. He cleared his throat, feeling the gaze of the others that had just joined them, and Hermione's silent pleading for him to do something, "Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards, 'This should do the trick,' he thought. He winked at Hermione: they both knew that nothing would distract everyone like a game of Exploding Snap.
She smiled back at him, a wide grin that showed off her now perfect teeth. The others were sitting down in a circle, waiting for Fred to start the game. He sat down at the top of the circle, leaving enough room for Hermione to sit down next to him. She didn't move from her seat on the bench. His eye darted from her's to the space next to him, and back to her eyes again.
Slowly she rose to her feet, and swayed gently from the motion of the train. Hermione placed the book that she had been reading in her now vacant set. Slowly Hermione sunk to her knees next to Fred, and from there, sat down cross-legged on the floor. The circle tightened around them, their knees were gently touching once again.
It wasn't until the end of the third game that they had a chance to talk again. One of Ron's cards started a chain reaction among the deck. After his card exploded, the rest followed suit. Hermione lend over to whisper into Fred's ear, "Owl me." Her warm breath lightly tickled his skin, sending a tremor down his spine again; it was a sensation he hoped to feel many more times. The smoke from the explosion was starting to clear. "I will," he whispered back. Fred could see the effect of his breath on her neck, it caused a small shiver to pass over her, shaking the same curl loose again to fall across her face. He quickly gave her hand two gentle squeezes.
A/N number 2: I'm working on a second chapter that will focus on Fred and Hermione at the Burrow acting like a couple. This story is kinda a companion fic to my longer story Night of The Broken Glass. Please Review!
Golden Letters
"Hermione?"
She didn't look up from her book as she murmured, "Hmm?" Turning the page, she continued reading.
"Are you and Krum still -erm- together?" Now she did look up, peering over the top of the book. Hermione eyed Fred warily; brows knitted together, and brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Did Ron ask you to ask me that? If he did, it's none of your business. Or his," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. Fred thought about changing his mind but considered it might not be too late to say something completely random. or was it? He watched her become completely absorbed in her book once again.
As he studied her read, like he had done so many other nights in the common room, he realized she was one of the only constants at Hogwarts. The surest way to know that all was well with life at school was to see her studying. If Hermione couldn't be found in the common room curled up with a book, or taking up a corner of the room with her school work, you could be sure it was the first sign of something being amidst, just short of students turning into stone.
The train compartment swayed to the rhythm of the tracks and the green countryside slid past the windows that lined each side of the compartment. The two occupants of the compartment could hear sounds coming from the other side of the door, the sounds of Ron, Harry, and George, still struggling with the unconscious Malfoy and his cronies.
He sighed, and ran a hand through his red hair. He was looking out the window, his eyes focused on a point just above Hermione's head full of brunette curls, but he barely saw the scenery. "No, Ron has nothing to do with this."
Hermione closed the book she was reading, after marking her page. "Why do you want to know?" She asked, tracing the title of the book with the nail of her index finger.
"Will you answer me first?" He asked her, watching her finger's movement over the gold embossed lettering, only slightly jealous of the attention the book was getting. He wished it were his skin that she was tracing designs on. A shiver coursed down his spine at the thought.
"I'm not dating him, if that's what you want to know." That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
"Are you going to see him over the summer?"
She smiled at him now. "Honestly," she said with a small shake of her head, which made one long coil of brown hair slide into her face. She let it hang there, obscuring one of her brown eyes. "You're just as bad as Ron."
Fred wanted nothing more then to get up, sit next to her, and take that one loose curl between his fingers to tuck it behind her ear. He liked her hair better this way, a curly mass of thick brown hair, then the smooth elegant knot she had styled her hair for the Yule Ball. She had looked stunning that night.
He wasn't the only one who thought she had looked wonderful, half the guys in the Great Hall were guilty of staring at her a little to long, and Krum, he looked at her like he absolutely adored her. He was surprised when Krum reluctantly let go of Hermione to dance with Angelina when she asked him. Hermione had stood in the middle of the dance floor, looking like she felt out of place without a partner. Fred took his cue, and asked her to dance. He hadn't wanted to let her go when the song ended. He had watched her for the rest of the night.
Now she was watching him, waiting for him to do something. He had to rack his brain to think of something to say that was fit for a Weasley Twin. "Where do you think Ron gets all that charm from?" He asked with his chest puffed out.
"Percy," Hermione replied without missing a beat, and it wasn't until Hermione smiled at him, that he knew she was teasing him. His chest instantly deflated, and he took on a look of mock hurt.
"P-Percy?" He sputtered.
"Well he has to be doing something right, he does have a steady girlfriend, unlike some." She looked pointedly at him.
He held up his hands in surrender, he could see the corners of her mouth tug up wards. "Now see, I'd have a girlfriend, if I could find the courage to ask her to be mine."
"Oh?" The trace of a smile was gone. "I think you should go talk to her, tell her what you think about her."
'No you don't!' Fred's mind was screaming. Nobody would sound that sad when being honest. "Should I tell her I think she's wonderful in everyway?"
She nodded at him while chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. She wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I will then." He got up, bowed to her with a flourish of red hair and waving arms, and he made towards the door. He turned to bid her good-bye, and saw she had gone back to tracing the letters on her book, with her eyes downcast. He knew that he couldn't leave her like that; he'd have to tell her how he felt for her.
"Hermione?" Fred asked again as he sat down next to her on the bench.
"Hmm?" His freckled hand came into view, as he took hold of hers, stopping its nervous flight over the golden letters.
"The girl I wanted had somebody already. I thought she had someone to make her happy, to make her laugh."
"But she didn't?"
"I guess not." With the hand that was not holding onto her's, he traced a line from the corner of her eye to the edge of her mouth with one long pale index finger. "Look at me Hermione."
She studied him with her brown eyes, the curl still falling down in front of her eye. He could see the confusion he had caused her.
"You're the girl I'm after, Hermione."
"I am?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted away from his face, and back to the book that rested on her lap. "Why?" The simplicity of the question spoke volumes. Everything Fred wanted hung on his answer.
"I didn't just join S.P.E.W to get you to stop bugging me about it."
That did it, she no longer looked sad, or confused, she looked down right scandalize, "Nobody did that!"
He smiled his best Weasley smile at her. "And I wasn't always down in the kitchens to nick food."
Her teeth gleamed white as she smiled at him. Fred had been one of the first to notice her teeth after Madam Profrey fixed them. "Every time I saw you there, you were eating something."
He shrugged, "Needed something to do while I was listening to those speeches you kept making."
Her eyes snapped up to look at him. He thought there was a blush rising up her cheeks. "You were listening to them? You never seemed to pay attention."
"As House Elves," Fred had taken on a false alto voice as he quoted back one of her last speeches, "You are told that you are not deserving of Freedom. The Ministry doesn't let you have wands, they don't enforce payment, and the magical community wants you to believe you are not worthy to be Free, but I believe you are!"
Now he was sure that her checks were growing red. Her eyes rested on the book again. He remembered all the times he tried to get her to sit down with him after giving her speech. Most of the time she had declined his offer, telling him she didn't want the elves to work harder for her. One night, after she gave a very vibrant speech, Hermione flopped down in the chair next to Fred. He hadn't wasted anytime in offering her a pastry, one not made by house elves, that he had gotten at Hogsmeade. She had laughed when he set it down in front of her.
That night he had walked her back to the dooms. He had listened to her chatter on about the rights of House Elves, interrupting her occasionally to stand up for the right of the Magical communities to have House Elves.
Fred moved closer, sliding along the bench, closing the small distance between their bodies. His knee pressed against her leg.
He placed his hand under her chin, and she let him guide her face up to meet his. She had closed her eyes. He gently touched the closed lid of one eye, and then the next, pushing aside the stray curl. He touched the tip of her nose, and dragged a single finger gently down, over her lips, down her chin and the pale skin of her neck. His finger came to rest on the silver clasp of her robe, and then he went back to the brown curl. He took it gently between his thumb and forefinger, before placing it behind her ear. He brought his hand back to cup under her chin, and the side of her check.
She half opened her eyes. She sought out his friendly blue eyes, and looked at him through her long lashes. This time, when their eyes meet, she didn't look away. A slow smile crept onto her face. "You like this then?" He asked. He wanted to do more with her, wrap his arms around her, kiss her lips, and her neck, but he couldn't. She was younger then him, not by much, not like Krum had been. It wasn't the age difference that kept him from doing anything, he didn't want to go too fast with her.
He leaned in closer to her; their faces almost touched. When he spoke, his voice was low, and husky, not quite his own. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?" He took his hand away from her face, and dragged it through his own hair.
"No," she said, her voice still low, "it's okay." Just then, the compartment door slid open. Intently Hermione pulled her hand away from his, and he jumped to his feet before Harry, Ron, or George had a chance to see them in such close proximity.
Fred was still standing close to her, their legs could almost still touch, and Hermione thought she could still feel the warmth of him. He looked down at her, meeting his gaze, she arched one of her slender eyebrows, and chewed on her lip. He cleared his throat, feeling the gaze of the others that had just joined them, and Hermione's silent pleading for him to do something, "Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards, 'This should do the trick,' he thought. He winked at Hermione: they both knew that nothing would distract everyone like a game of Exploding Snap.
She smiled back at him, a wide grin that showed off her now perfect teeth. The others were sitting down in a circle, waiting for Fred to start the game. He sat down at the top of the circle, leaving enough room for Hermione to sit down next to him. She didn't move from her seat on the bench. His eye darted from her's to the space next to him, and back to her eyes again.
Slowly she rose to her feet, and swayed gently from the motion of the train. Hermione placed the book that she had been reading in her now vacant set. Slowly Hermione sunk to her knees next to Fred, and from there, sat down cross-legged on the floor. The circle tightened around them, their knees were gently touching once again.
It wasn't until the end of the third game that they had a chance to talk again. One of Ron's cards started a chain reaction among the deck. After his card exploded, the rest followed suit. Hermione lend over to whisper into Fred's ear, "Owl me." Her warm breath lightly tickled his skin, sending a tremor down his spine again; it was a sensation he hoped to feel many more times. The smoke from the explosion was starting to clear. "I will," he whispered back. Fred could see the effect of his breath on her neck, it caused a small shiver to pass over her, shaking the same curl loose again to fall across her face. He quickly gave her hand two gentle squeezes.
A/N number 2: I'm working on a second chapter that will focus on Fred and Hermione at the Burrow acting like a couple. This story is kinda a companion fic to my longer story Night of The Broken Glass. Please Review!