What Saying a Spell Can Do
by: bittersweetmelody47
They all scramble around slowly to form two sides; some stand to the right, others to the left. The hushed whispers fade quickly; the atmosphere of the room turned deathly still.
His eyes rest vaguely on his brother and Hermione at the far left of the room.
Ron's voice was low, but he could still decipher the words.
"Don't worry. I'll go easy on you."
Ron's confident assurance gave him the strong urge to scoff.
'More like her going easy on you.' He thought, and the corners of his lips twitched as he watched Hermione's reaction: slight annoyance outweighed by amusement.
"Thank you, Ronald."
He was sure he could detect a glint of mischief underlying the deep brown of her eyes.
Ron leaves Hermione and retreats to the other end of the room as George's whisper grabs his attention.
"One sickle."
George's eyes are fixed on Ron, and it's clear who he's betting for.
A smile creases his lips. " You're on."
After all, he already knows who will win.
&&&&&&&
Their wands are raised toward each other, their bodies tense and poised.
At least, Ron was tense. Hermione was quite still and relaxed, determination shining on her face.
It feels too long, but then he sees Ron's mouth begin to utter the word.
But, as always of course, Hermione is quicker.
"Stupefy!"
Her strong voice resounds against the walls of the room, and Ron, his features shocked, is thrown off his feet across the room, landing with a thud on the rugged floor.
George's hand slams against his reluctantly, the silver sickle now cool and solid clutched beneath his fingers.
He smirks at this, watching Ron pick himself up off the floor, quite disgruntled. "Thank you."
"Shut up."
The giggling of girls become pronounced, but before he can look over at the source, Ron is before him, muttering on about how it was only polite to let her win.
He folds his arms against his chest and nods in mock understanding, and it takes all the self-control in him not to laugh.
He looks over at the girls surrounding Hermione, and it's now that he sees just how much she's changed, all these years.
He remembers when she first started at Hogwarts, quite bossy and admittedly, annoying, but the thing about her that he remembers most is how self-conscious she used to be. Even though she seemed so confident when it came to practicing spells and voicing her opinions, he was always able to notice this yearning underneath, a yearning to be accepted and liked. Her hair at that time was so bushy that it was a wonder how she could even do anything to tame it in the mornings. And she was so small.
But now, all that's gone. She's grown exceptionally, her body fit to resemble one of a young woman. Her hair is no longer bushy; it's been reduced to wavy strands that frame her face delicately. Her mahogany eyes shine with a fire, but then again, they always have. Confidence is all she is now; it radiates off her so much it's nearly impossible not to detect. And it suits her, more than anything.
She meets his eyes amidst all the laughing and he, the bold prankster, the person always up for a challenge, finds himself hastily looking away.
&&&&&&&&
It's pretty late, probably about one in the morning. George had already given up on the order forms and went to bed a couple of hours ago, but he really wanted to get the forms done. He's always been more persistent than George when it came to things like this.
The Common Room's deserted, of course, the only noise being the crackling of the roaring fire. He sits in the armchair at the far left, the one inched closer to the heat of the fire, with the folder filled with order forms propped open on his lap. And for the thousandth time in the past hour, he stops for a moment to rub his eyes, resisting the temptation to just give in and drift off to sleep, with the order forms slipping to the floor in the process.
But he blinks hard and manages to stay awake.
Really, though, he is very satisfied with how well his and George's products are selling. The Skiving Snackboxes were a hit from the very first day. It was always his dream for this to happen, and the thought of turning this success into a business, with a shop, is definitely one of his greatest excitements.
He hears the padding of footsteps from the stairs to the dormitories from behind him, and wondering who would be up at this hour, abandons his writing on the forms and turns to look.
First he sees bare feet, then black striped pajama pants, then all of her, with the thin red long-sleeved shirt and her wavy hair pulled up in a loose ponytail.
She doesn't see him at first; her eyes seem to be scanning the room for something. But after a few seconds she sighs, clearly disappointed, and makes her way over to the armchairs next to him.
Then she sees him.
"Oh." Surprise laces her tone. "Hey, Fred."
He smiles in welcome, and ignores the jolt in his stomach. "Hermione."
She gestures to the armchair beside him. "Mind if I sit down?"
He shakes his head, closing the folder and putting it on the floor next to his feet. "No, not at all."
She nods at the forms as she sits down. "Those the order forms?"
"Yeah." He wonders if she'll disapprove, if a frown will show upon her lips.
But to his astonishment, she just smiles. "Lots of orders, huh?"
He relaxes, but he knows his eyes are wide upon her.
She notices this and she laughs, the sound of it music to his ears. " I'm not against it anymore, Fred. Really, I encourage anything that will drive the old bat insane. Not that she isn't already."
He can't help it; his mouth drops open in shock. Was this the Hermione he's known all these years?
She laughs harder at his reaction, and he realizes that never has he seen a girl this beautiful when she smiles.
He regains his composure. "So, why are you up so late?"
The laughter hasn't quite died from her face, but her tone of voice is serious. " I couldn't sleep."
He nods, then suddenly remembers how she seemed to be looking for something when she first came in.
"Were you looking for something?"
She looks confused for a second, but then it dawns on her. " Oh, yeah. I was looking for Crookshanks. I haven't seen him around all day."
He tries not to scowl as he thinks about that bothersome cat, but she must have seen something in his face, for when he looks up at her, she's clearly suppressing a smile.
"Today was a pretty good day." She declares lightly. "With the DA and everything."
He feels better; finally something not so awkward to talk about.
He leans back in the armchair, folding his arms across his chest lazily.
"Yeah, you're really good at stunning spells."
A tinge of red canvasses across her cheeks and he finds himself glad of this. It does wonders to her face; her beauty rises up many notches.
"Thank you."
He shrugs, a mischievous grin dancing across his face. "Well, anybody that stuns my brother across the room like that is good in my book."
She grins back, but the blush is still there.
She nods at the folder next to his feet. "Can I see?"
He blinks, and he feels suddenly shy, yet flattered, that she's interested in something he values important to him.
"Uh, sure." He reaches down for the folder as she gets up and moves her armchair closer to his.
He's all of a sudden very aware of their proximity, and as he places the folder into her waiting hands he feels that jolt in his stomach again.
She opens it up and he can't help but stare at her as she studies it, interest outlining her features. Wisps of light brown hair have escaped her ponytail; it takes all the self-control he has to not reach out and tuck them back behind her ear.
She breaks the brief silence. "These products are really great, you know. I can't imagine how good you have to be in Charms to succeed at making stuff like this."
He is shocked into silence, but she continues on, not seeming to notice. " To tell you the truth, I've always admired you and George when it came to this... the determination and intelligence you both have for this, and everything."
She realizes his silence now and she turns to look at him, smiling softly, if somewhat a little embarrassed.
He's mesmerized by her glimmering chocolate eyes, and at this moment, he forgets that she's his little brother's best friend. All he really knows now is that there's no avoiding it, no denying it. He's fallen for her.
Without realizing what he's doing, he leans in, and he's kissing her. Her lips are soft and inviting, but to his mortification, she's unresponsive.
He was wrong. She doesn't like him in the same way. This was a mistake.
He pulls away from her slowly, ashamed, and dreading to see the expression on her face. But to his relief, her expression is not what he imagined it would be, but it is still a blank expression he can't understand.
He opens his mouth to apologize, his ears reddening, but then her hand shoots out to grasp his shoulder and pull him back to her lips once more, the folder full of forms fluttering to the floor, forgotten.
He pulls her close, and as he feels her smile against his lips, he gets his answer.
Fin