A/N: Just a very quick, fluffy one-shot that was floating around my head and maybe might turn into a longer fic if people like it. I love the Fred/Hermione pairing and I was hoping to write a new fic and explore different time-periods with this couple, but I want to finish my Dramione first. If you are waiting for an update on that one, know that I am incredibly sorry that I haven't uploaded in a while, but I have had the worst case of writer's block, plus life, then the flu, etc... you know how it is. I know what I want to happen, I'm just struggling to get the right words to get there :( please forgive me, I haven't forgotten about it.
All mistakes are my own, I wrote this very quickly and very very late at night, but I wanted to write something.
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from anything, I have just used JKR's beautiful world
Detention
"Fred and George Weasley!"
The twins stopped in their tracks at the sound of the shrill voice calling their names. Simultaneously turning on the spot, they saw the source of the reprimand was Hermione Granger, her hands on her hips and her petite stature somehow terrifying.
George's hands immediately flew up in surrender, "Hermione, whatever it is, we didn't do it!" He defended quickly.
"Do you mind telling me how exactly I found a first year with his tongue so heavy he couldn't speak?" She ignored his defence.
Fred had the gall to slip on a grin and wink at the younger witch, "Now Hermione, Georgie and I both know these products are very safe. We've tried every one of them on ourselves."
Hermione marched directly up to him and placed a warning finger on his chest, "I don't care whether you've tried it on Dumbledore himself! First years don't know any better! You're meant to be setting a good example as upperclassmen."
"Hermione, we're sorry, it won't happen again." George looked apologetic.
"You told me that last time, George. And the time before that!" She stepped into his space now, fixing her steely glare on him.
"'C'mon Mi. It really won't happen again this time." Fred supplied, muttering as an afterthought, "We've got all the data we need."
Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped back, "I really hate doing this, but I believe in fairness. Detention. Again. Meet me in McGonagall's office tomorrow at 6pm."
With that, she turned and stalked away.
"You'd think she'd go easy on us because we're in her own house." Fred groaned, flopping onto his four-poster bed.
"That's our Hermione for you, always seeking justice." George replied. Fred frowned at George's use of 'our' in the sentence, knowing that the bookworm could never be his alone but feeling it hurt all the same.
"You know, if you stopped feeding the products to first years, she wouldn't have to punish you." Lee pointed out from his own bed.
"Yeah but who else could we con into eating them? Ron's been wary of us after the first four times." Fred responded.
"Maybe Crabbe and Goyle? They like eating, and they're definitely dim-witted enough." Lee answered, turning out his lamp.
Fred and George shared a look, both with a new gleam in their eyes. As they lay in their beds, they drifted off to sleep, thinking of their new targets.
"What do you think we'll have to do this time, Freddie?" George asked as they trudged towards McGonagall's office after dinner.
"Probably trophy polishing again. We finished pretty fast last time thanks to mum's wandless cleaning spells." Fred replied, checking his watch.
"We polished them two weeks ago, d'you reckon they're dirty enough?" George questioned.
Fred merely shrugged and knocked on the Head of House's office door. She called them in and they took their places in front of her desk, Hermione already standing to one side of the professor.
"What are we going to do with you?" McGonagall asked between pursed lips.
"You could let us go." Fred teased, waggling his eyebrows at Hermione who turned quickly away and looked embarassed.
McGonagall only sighed, "You're to be split up tonight. George, you'll be cleaning the Transfiguration classroom top to bottom without magic. Fred, you'll be doing the same but in the Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick is currently taking the Frog Choir and cannot supervise you, so Miss Granger has offered to oversee your cleaning." Hermione looked down at her shoes at this point, not as confident and sure of herself as she usually was, Fred noted. "Please don't give Miss Granger any trouble. I don't want her to have to hex you or take even more house points than you have already cost us."
"Not a problem, professor!" Fred replied with a charming smile, "Hermione has nothing to worry about with me."
Hermione only groaned and shuffled towards the door, assuming the dismissal and praying for a speedy detention. It wasn't the first time that she'd supervised detention, including one of the twins' detentions. It was, however, the first time that she'd have to spend hours alone with Fred in a deserted classroom, and the thought made her stomach do flips.
Her normally confident aura was slipping as she nervously gnawed at her bottom lip. Crushes were fickle things, and to have a crush on your best friend's older brother was even more difficult. Additionally, she was certain that he didn't view her in a romantic sense at all, assuming more of a younger sibling role, or even the annoying prefect role - which may remind him of Percy, which was even worse!
She flung open the classroom door and made her way to the front, perching herself on the stool that Professor Flitwick usually stood upon. She pulled out some homework and waited for Fred to follow her in before she found a desk she could begin her study at.
He sauntered in with a blank expression on his face, surveying the room as he entered. "This doesn't look like it'll take too long." He glanced over at Hermione and smiled, "We'll be out of here before you know it."
Hermione's face turned red as he smiled at her, inwardly chastising herself at how she reacted to a simple smile. "That sounds great. If you don't mind, I'll get started on some of my Potions homework over here and when you're ready to clean this side, I'll move." She gestured to a desk on the left-hand side of the room and shifted her bag when he nodded.
She quickly conjured a bucket of water, mop, sponges and dusters before she settled down at the desk and flipped open several tomes, researching various ingredients for the Draught of Peace.
Fred shifted to the back of the classroom, bringing the cleaning items with him and beginning to dust the back cupboards. He glanced over his shoulder at Hermione, noticing that her face was buried in a text and she was furiously scribbling on some parchment, he cast a nonverbal cleaning spell over the cupboard he was working on and moved on to the next one. After repeating this trick four times, Hermione looked up at him with a suspicious stare.
"How clean are those cupboards?" She rose and strode towards him, "Surely with the amount of time you've spent dusting each one, they're still covered in grime."
As she approached, she took a finger and swiped at the first cupboard. A frown graced her features as she looked up at Fred and sighed, "Cleaning the muggle way really isn't that difficult." Hermione intoned.
"I know, Mi, but this is faster. I'm sure you want to be out of here just as much as I do." Fred replied pleadingly.
Hermione felt her insides jolt, stupidly saddened by the speed that Fred wanted to get away from her. Instead, she curled her lips into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Alright, but will you at least mop the floors without magic?"
"Hermione, are you alright?" Fred looked overly concerned and pressed a hand to her forehead, "You're allowing me to cheat detention!"
She huffed a little but squirmed under his touch, "I'm going to pretend that I don't know what you're doing over here and go back to my essay."
Abruptly, she turned and settled back into her chair. Fred thought she was acting incredibly odd tonight. He'd never seen her like this, almost flustered. As he paid more attention to her over the next quarter of an hour, he saw her sigh seven times, shake her head twice as if to clear her thoughts, re-read the same page five times, and glance over at him every couple of minutes, ducking her head immediately afterward. Her fast-paced scribbling had ceased, and she seemed unfocussed, a highly out-of-character trait for Hermione Granger. Suddenly she slammed her book shut and looked up in front of her, a frown on her face, she looked to be contemplating something. Her head snapped to look at Fred and her features softened into a more worried expression and Fred paused his cleaning.
He paced towards her, stopping directly in front of the desk that she was working at, bending down so that he was eye level with her and concern written on his face. "Hermione, are you okay? I'm worried about you. You're not acting yourself."
She looked down, concentrating on a knot in the wood of the desk, "I'm alright, Fred. Nothing for you to concern yourself with."
"It seems like everything that I have to concern myself with." Fred moved around the desk to sit beside her and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I haven't noticed you acting like this with anyone else. Ron hasn't come and told us anything's wrong with you. It seems like it's just me. What have I done, Hermione? Honestly, I'll stop feeding the test products to first years. I won't prank you for the rest of the year. I'll avoid you if you'd like."
Hermione hadn't breathed since he touched her. It was difficult to concentrate on his words when she realised he was this close to her. Crushes were so stupid, so illogical, so utterly not her.
"You'd do that for me?" Hermione breathed quietly.
"Well yeah, of course. I don't want to hurt people, Mi. Our pranks are meant to be fun." Fred frowned at her.
"You don't have to stop doing what you love. Merlin knows I love stumbling across your spellwork, it's so complex I'm impressed every time. Really, I'm fine, just having an off night." Hermione nodded, reassuring herself more than him. Since when did she become a ball of nerves? Where was that confident Hermione, the brave one who was sorted into Gryffindor?
Fred smiled at her compliment that he wasn't sure she was meant to give. He was certain something was bothering her, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Alright, just know I'm here if you need me."
He pulled her into a one-armed hug and turned to go back to his cleaning when he felt her hand on his arm. Looking back at her, she was still frowning and adorably gnawing at her bottom lip. She sucked in a deep breath, then rushed out a string of words that Fred barely had time to comprehend.
"I'm sorry, what?" Fred asked.
Hermione's cheeks turned a deep red and she stared down at her hands as she spoke, "I'm acting so weird because I have a crush on you, and you don't have to do anything about it, I just wanted you to know."
Fred was dumbstruck and utterly speechless. He stayed statuesque for a few moments, while Hermione turned redder, breathing deeply as if to calm herself.
"Please say something. Or don't. Just forget about it, I know it's stupid, I'm sorry." Hermione mumbled.
It spurred Fred into action, moving back into his seat, he used a finger to tilt her chin up and force her to meet his gaze. When she finally looked at him, her eyes were watery, and he smiled softly at her. It had never occurred to him that Hermione could like him. He never thought he had a chance with her, especially with their opposing attitudes. He brushed his thumb across her cheek and her breath hitched in anticipation, fearing rejection but hoping for anything but.
"My brave little bookworm." Fred breathed.
Then his lips were on hers, gently coaxing her to respond, his hands moving to wind into her hair and tangle his fingers in her locks. In turn, Hermione placed a hand on his chest, the other hand moving to the back of his neck, threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative, both of them hesitant and unsure of what the other wanted. After a brief moment, they broke apart, breathing deeply. Fred searched Hermione's face, and Hermione's worried look was back, but as they caught each other's gaze, they smiled. They knew this was real.