Hello! I absolutely love Hermione/Fred and decided to write one with them myself. Will be 5th year to post-war. I hope you like it!

Hermione huffed bitterly looking at the nearly blank piece of parchment in her lap. The Importance of Proper Wand Movement and its History, she had titled it. Stupid essay, stupid Umbridge. Harry and Ron had given up all hope of finishing it, retiring to their room early. When she tried to make them finish, however, Ron responded with an eloquent "you're not my keeper, Hermione," as he trudged up the stairs. She pouted, but she didn't think she was too far behind following in their footsteps. Hermione let out another frustrated growl as she chewed on her quill absently, hoping for sudden inspiration on her incredibly mundane, useless, stupid Defense essay topic.

She craned her neck, turning around to glance at the large grandfather clock in the common room. It was still only 9:30. She sighed, surveying the empty room and dulling fire. Umbridge's presence had really put a damper on the entire student body. She blinked sleepily before trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. With a quick flick of her wand, the flames roared again as she snuggled deeper into the squishy couch. Before she knew it, her eyes were fluttering shut as her half-chewed quill rolled out of her grasp and onto the floor.

She'd rested her eyes for not even ten minutes when she was rudely awoken by a loud bang as the Gryffindor entrance swung open dramatically and someone stomped in. She blinked rapidly to focus her vision and berate whoever had just interrupted her blissful nap.

"Fre-ed?" she half spoke half yawned out.

"The one and only," he smiled at her lazily. "Hey, Granger."

She moved the parchment from her lap onto the table and bent down to pick up her fallen quill before getting up and stretching to wake herself up. It didn't work, as she proceeded to yawn again. "What were you doing out so late?" she asked curiously as he walked towards her.

"Oh, you know, this and that." He paused before looking her dead in the eyes. "Just doing my fair share of inspecting Hogwarts' broom closets," he claimed, winking at her.

Hermione huffed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night before shaking her head and turning back to finish her nightmare of an essay, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back in his direction.

"Fred," she threatened, staring up at him boldly.

Fred grinned back, his eyes lingering on the light blush staining her cheekbones before he looked her in the eyes. "I'm just messin' with you, Granger."

She glared it him, slightly flustered. "I couldn't care less what you were doing out there," she said indignantly.

"Nah, you want to know what I was up to, don't you?" She looked away from him, biting her cheek, and he knew he had her attention. "I know you, Granger. You're not one to let things go."

"You're right, I can't seem to let things go. But," she added, "I'm not anyone's keeper," she finished with a glance towards the fifth year boys' dormitory.

Fred chuckled. "Did Ronniekins say something to you again?"

"More like when does he not say something."

Fred laughed again. "Come on, you know better than to listen to that knob."

"That knob is your brother."

"He's a knob," Fred insisted.

Hermione smiled up at him and he found himself feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. "Thanks, Fred."

"My pleasure, Hermione."

She waited for a moment. "So, where were you really?"

Fred looked away as his expression immediately sobered. "I had a detention. With the Umbitch."

Hermione laughed at the nickname before she noticed how pale he looked, even in the warm firelight. She paled herself. She hoped with everything she had that Fred hadn't had to go through what poor Harry had. She looked up trying to meet his eyes as he dutifully avoided her gaze. "Show me your hand," she demanded.

His eyes widened at her in shock before he quickly released her wrist from his grasp, shoving his hands in his pockets before hissing in pain as the fabric of his trousers scratched his skin in the process. She moved closer to him and pulled his left hand gently out of his pocket so as to not hurt him more.

I must not cause mischief.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "Oh, Fred," she said sadly. She felt her eyes water at the sight before blinking quickly to focus herself. She cradled his hand in hers and led him to the spot next to hers on the couch. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," she emphasized before turning on her heel and racing up the stairs.

"What? Hermione where-" he cut himself off when he saw she was out of sight. He sighed, adjusting himself on the couch. How a couch could be so bloody squishy, he would never know. After a moment, he heard a clatter from the direction of Hermione's room, and what suspiciously sounded like "Sorry, Lav." Before he knew it, she was bounding back down the stairs, holding what looked like a bowl with liquid in it and a small blue towel. Without saying a word, she plopped down right next to him, crossing her legs under her with her bowl in her lap.

"This is murtlap essence," she explained un-prompted, motioning towards the thick, cloudy liquid sloshing in the bowl as she adjusted herself on the couch. "It'll sting a little bit at first, but then you will feel much better," she consoled.

He still looked a little unsure.

"You trust me, Fred?" she questioned, soft but abrupt.

"Without a doubt."

She smiled at how quickly he responded. He moved his hand towards her, and she took it, looking up at him as she gently slid his hand into the bowl. He gave a sharp gasp of pain, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as she rubbed his tense shoulder comfortingly.

She felt him suddenly relax under her fingers as he let out a puff of air. "You okay now?" she asked him, searching his face.

Fred swallowed, nodding. "I'm brilliant." He grinned winningly down at her, "all thanks to you, you brilliant witch."

Hermione blushed lightly at the compliment. They sat in silence for a couple minutes before Hermione grabbed a towel she had brought down and pulled his hand out of the murtlap, wiping the essence off gently. "All done," she smiled, putting the bowl and towel on the table behind her forgotten essay.

"Good as new," he said happily before pausing, "well almost."

Hermione winced. "I'm sorry Fred, the quill is dark magic; we can't get rid of the scarring."

Fred sighed, "I expected as much."

Hermione pouted before biting her lip, and, to her ultimate horror, her bottom lip began quivering before she promptly burst into tears.

Fred looked a bit shocked at her sudden burst of emotion, but quickly recovered, putting his good arm around her. "Hermione? What happened? Did I say something?" She shook her head no. It looked like she was trying to answer, but instead, she just cried harder. Completely overwhelmed with emotion, she threw her arms around Fred's middle, clinging to him and crying into his shirt.

"Hermione-" he tried again. Fred let out a breath, tickling her neck, before he wrapped his arms around her to console the sobbing girl. Hermione took this as an invitation, climbing onto his lap and clinging to him even tighter, if possible. "'Mione," he said as he rested his chin on the crown of her head, "if you don't tell me who made you cry like this, how am I supposed to beat them up?" Hearing this, she gave a wet laugh, making Fred feel oddly and inexplicably proud once again. She sniffled again, "First," sniffle, "she hurt Harry. And I couldn't – didn't" she corrected, "do anything. And now," she continued, shifting slightly, "she's gone and hurt you too. If I'd have just done something then you wouldn't have been tortured like this," she sobbed.

"Hermione, no. You are not allowed to feel guilty at all about this." She just sniffled again in response. "You fixed me! And Harry! Us nutters couldn't survive a day without you, you know that."

"Clearly it wasn't enough," she muttered, unconvinced.

"Hermione," he dragged out her name this time, "look at me." She sniffled and looked up, unsuccessfully blinking back more tears that were threatening to fall.

"I hate that this stupid excuse of a woman is making you cry," he said, clearly frustrated as he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. "Want me to go beat her up?" he questioned jokingly with a sly half-smile.

"Don't even joke about that!" she exclaimed shrilly. "I don't even want to think about what that horrid, vile, disgustingly pink woman will do to you."

Fred laughed heartily, "I don't think I've ever heard the color pink being used as an insult before."

"Yeah, well, I loathe her and she's making me hate the color too. I don't think I can look at it the same way ever again," she grumbled, taking in a deep breath. "You know what she told us in class the other day?" Hermione didn't give him a chance to answer. "She said we wouldn't be using our wands at all. All year. She said maybe we'd be able to learn basic movement by the time we've finished the textbook. And, to top it all off, we've got an essay to turn in at the end of the week, which I have excitedly titled The Importance of Proper Wand Movement and its History," she said sarcastically.

"She assigned that to you lot too, then?" he laughed darkly, "We've just turned it in last week."

Hermione looked horrified. "But you're seventh years." She looked up at him with wide eyes, "What about your N.E.W.T.s?! I was worried about O.W.L.s, but N.E.W.T.s?!"

Fred sighed and rested his head on hers again, absent mindedly tugging on her curls. "Guess we'll just have to study ourselves stupid, then."

"That's not fair. None of this is fair. I hate her, Fred. I absolutely despise her. I don't think I've ever hated anyone this much before," she paused, "except maybe You-Know-Who. Or Pettigrew. I guess I have hated people before."

"I don't think those two even qualify as people, 'Mione." Hermione hummed in agreement. "And I hate her, too. So much," he continued.

"I just want to do something about it instead of waiting around like a sitting duck," she said, exasperated.

"Like a what?" he questioned, looking adorably confused.

Hermione laughed, "sorry, it's a muggle saying, I guess."

"Oh," he said, as if it explained everything.

Hermione laughed again before her breath caught in her throat. "Umm…Fred?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

She paused, trying to find the right words, before settling on "how on earth did I end up on your lap?"

Fred grinned. "I think I should be the one asking you that, Hermione," he murmured into her hair. He could practically feel the heat of her blush by now. She unsuccessfully tried to scoot off of his lap, but he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Fred!"

"Hermione!" he mimicked.

"Let me go!"

"No!" he laughed, ruffling her hair.

"Fred," she groaned, turning to face him, still completely mortified on her position. Instead of a response, he took her hair and moved it to the other side of her neck before leaning his head against hers and pressing his cheek to her hair. "I've always loved your hair, you know," he said. She scoffed. "Really," he pulled a strand, letting it go as it bounced back up. "It's happy hair."

"Happy hair?" she laughed, "you know what, maybe it is. This thing seems to have a mind of its own anyway."

Fred let out a barking laugh. "I never knew you were so funny, Granger."

Hermione smirked at him. "I've always been funny, Fred; Ginny's just the only one who appreciates it though."

"Well, my sister definitely knows how to pick 'em." His eyes flickered down to her lips and she felt her heart rate pick up as he swallowed. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and another one to her cheek.

"Fred-" she murmured, helplessly searching his eyes.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing his thumb on her lips before replacing it with his own. Hermione let out a surprised "Mmph!" as he molded his lips with hers before she came to her senses and responded to the kiss just as enthusiastically. After a couple moments, they separated for air.

"I've been wanting to do that since last year, actually," he confessed.

"Really?" she mused.

"Really."

"Yule ball?" she guessed.

"Quidditch Cup."

She met his eyes and Fred thought he maybe have pushed his luck a smidge, but Hermione had other plans as she put an arm around his head, pulling him in for another kiss. So, he left a hand at her waist and tangled the other hand in her hair. She could feel him smiling against her lips before she felt him tugging on her bottom lip. "You kept bloody pouting all night," he said, sucking on her bottom lip as she moaned softly, "and don't bite on your lip anymore." She raised a questioning eyebrow. "That's my job now," he explained, grinning wickedly he as he took her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down extremely softly before kissing her again.

He broke apart as she made a noise of disapproval. "Hermione," he laughed. She smiled and pecked his lips again. "We should stop now," he said, not really wanting to stop at all. "Whyyy?" she questioned, nuzzling her face with his, her eyes bright.

"Because," he said turning to look at the clock, "It's almost two in the morning! Bloody hell!" he said, obviously shocked.

She laughed, "you're right. We should sleep," she pouted again, and Fred immediately kissed her pouted lips.

"What did I say about pouting?"

She grinned and he realized, he was so bloody fond of her.

He put his arm around her waist again. "Go to Hogsmeade with me. Next week."

She looked at him, a little shocked at the declaration.

"What did you think this was a one and done?" he asked, "I don't think so, Miss Granger, I'm keeping you around for the long haul."

She blushed prettily and he kissed her blushing cheek. "Is that a yes?" She nodded shyly. He grinned ear to ear before getting up and pulling her with him. "Well then, I guess I will see you tomorrow morning."

"I guess you will," she responded happily, turning to walk up the stairs. She paused abruptly, "I almost forgot," she said, coming back. He looked to the table, thinking she would grab her supplies and essay, if you could even call it that.

But instead, she walked right up to him, placing her hands on his shoulders to kiss him. "Goodnight, Fred," she said, sweetly, before quickly turning back to the stairs.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he replied with pink tinted ears and a grin, letting her name roll off of his tongue. Not a bad day at all.

Hope you liked it! Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I plan on updating very soon!

~Risa