Hermione lay asleep in Percy's old room; it was almost five in the morning. Hermione was staying with Fred and George in the burrow for a fortnight while the rest of the family was on a muggle reservation. The reason Hermione, Fred and George stayed behind was because the day they left Hermione hadn't been feeling too well, and Molly ordered Fred to stay with her, and of course where there was Fred there was also George.
Rain splattered the windows of the Burrow; the sun was hopelessly trying to come out from behind the dark gray storm clouds, but the clouds and heavy rains took over.
Hermione cringed in her sleep every time thunder clapped; the horrendous weather was not helping the flu virus that was coursing through her.
Around six a.m., the first Weasley brother awoke, Fred Weasley looked out the four-paned window above his bed; all he could see was the blurred figure of a completely rain-washed yard. He sighed heavily at the horrible weather then pulled on his robe before going to check on Hermione as his mother ordered.
Fred walked groggily through the household until he came to Percy's old room, he knocked lightly then entered to find Hermione sleeping on the bed; the covers and sheets were thrown onto the floor. Fred entered quietly and picked up the covers and piling them on the end of the bed. He put the back of his hand to Hermione's forehead, and instantly realized she had a horrible temperature. Since neither Fred nor George knew any of their mom's potions for fevers or illness; she would just have to tough the sickness out. Fred grabbed the bundled up covers from the end of the bed and carefully placed them over Hermione's sleeping feverish body, trying hard to too wake her. Once he was finished her rubbed her should gently and gave her a sad look she could not see, he didn't want her to have to suffer.
Fred exited the room and made his way downstairs, to already find George, leaning on the kitchen counter drinking a mug of what presumed to be coffee.
"Where were you, mate?" he asked taking a sip out of the mug when Fred entered the kitchen and immediately took out supplies to make pancakes.
"You know, checking on the girl were supposed to be taking care of? She is really sick George." Fred said not making eye contact with his twin, who he thought was being rather insensitive to Hermione at the moment.
"Oh, yeah, how is she doing?" George asked awkwardly, setting his mug on the counter.
"She had a fever, and she looks horribly uncomfortable." Fred said pulling out his wand from the sleeve of his robe; he waved it so the pancakes started making themselves.
He leaned on the counter across from Fred and finally made eye contact, he looked rather uncomfortable too, but not in a sick way.
Fred and George ate pancakes for breakfast; it wasn't until the storm got horrendously bad did Hermione wake up. Fred didn't know she was awake, but decided to go check on her, leaving George to finish cleaning up the dishes from breakfast.
Fred entered Percy's room once again to find a pale-faced and rose cheeked Hermione lying in bed with her eyes open, looking sicker than ever.
""Mione?" Fred said when he walked into her room; she looked up and didn't say anything before resting her head back on the pillow.
"How are you?" He said again walking over to her bed and sitting on the edge.
"Horrible." She croaked softly.
Fred frowned before smoothing the sweat-damped hair away from her eyes.
He looked at her with a pained expression that quickly faded.
"What's wrong?"
"I feel like I'm going to vomit." She said.
"Come here," Fred carefully picked her up bridal-style, and she held onto his neck. He carried her to the bathroom, her whole body was hot against his, but Hermione liked the cool sensation. When they arrived at the bathroom Fred touched his icy lips to Hermione's burning forehead before setting her down next to the toilet.
"Do you want me to stay with you, love?" Fred asked, she shook her head 'no' and Fred left the room, once he was in the distance he heard horrible retching noises.
When Hermione was done she walked downstairs to find Fred and George sitting on the couch, playing a game of exploding snap. When they saw her they immediately stopped.
"How are you Hermione?" George asked, she shook her head and went to go six next to Fred who was sitting on the couch across from George. When Hermione sat next to him she rested her head on his shoulder, and he instinctively pulled her onto his lap. She curled up into a ball and Fred rubbed her back gently.
"George, go get a cold wet cloth, would you?" Fred asked, Hermione pressed her burning forehead against the crook of Fred's neck as the thunder boomed loudly outside.
"It's okay 'Mione" he whispered softly in her ear. George came back and handed Fred an icy cold washcloth. He retrieved it with his free hand that wasn't comforting Hermione and carefully pulled her away from his body momentarily.
"It has an enchantment on it; it will stay cold for hours." George said sitting at the end of the same couch as Hermione and Fred.
"Thanks mate." Fred said placing the icy cloth on Hermione's forehead, she shuddered at first but then smiled weakly and closed her eyes.
"That feels good." She murmured before cuddling back into Fred's chest. Fred shuddered as the cold washrag touched his neck, and George smirked at him before grabbing the throw blanket off the top of the couch and throwing it over Fred and Hermione, it was almost perfect how well it covered the both of them.
Pretty soon Hermione had fallen asleep again, mostly to the soothing sensation of Fred rubbing her back gently and George humming to one of his favorite songs by 'The Weird Sisters'. Fred held Hermione close to him, making sure she was warmed by his body heat but cooled by the cloth on her head, and soon enough he too fell asleep.
When Fred awoke it seemed as him and Hermione had switched positions almost completely, Hermione was between the couch and Fred, and Fred's lips were pressed to her forehead lightly, and the icy cloth was nowhere to be found. Fred had one arm under Hermione's torso and one over it, pulling her closer to him; it looked almost like her was trying to protect her.
A loud bang of thunder that followed Fred's awakening awoke Hermione too, she shuddered and her eyelids were almost opened, but then Fred whispered.
"Go back to sleep 'Mione, I'm going to make you some soup." Fred carefully removed his arms from around Hermione; he got up and walked into the kitchen, only to meet George once again.
"Here to make some lunch?" George said, leaning against the counter once more.
"Not for you mate, for Hermione." He said George looked jokingly crest-fallen then smirked.
"How exactly did you and Hermione end up in that interesting position?" George asked. Fred had a gut feeling his twin had something to do with it, but he ignored his suspicions and started preparing soup the muggle way, just how Hermione liked it.
"I don't know." He said nonchalantly, concentrating on making chicken-noodle soup.
George laughed lightly.
"Fred, answer me truthfully on this, do you fancy Hermione?" George asked, Fred blushed but his face wasn't turned towards George. He let the blush fade before turning around.
"You know Ron likes her, George, don't be ridiculous." Fred said turning back to the soup; his own words made his heart sink.
Later on that night Hermione was fully awake and sitting on Fred's lap with the icy cloth that had been retrieved earlier once again on her forehead.
Her Fred and George were talking about random things as the storm brewed outside the Burrow.
"So, Hermione, do you fancy Ronald?" George said in a fake motherly tone as a joke, Hermione blushed, finally some color returning to her face.
"Actually no, he fancies me though, doesn't he?" She said looking at George; she hadn't realized Fred had been holding his breath through the whole conversation.
"Yes, why yes does little 'Mione, he doesn't shut up about you." George said smirking and taking a sip of the butterbeer he had on the table next to him.
"Oh, well I fancy someone else, but please don't tell him that." Hermione said, looking desperately at George, Fred took a shallow breath, his heart sank. Who did she like?
"Oh really? And who might this young lad be Hermione?" George said Fred tried to force a smile when Hermione turned towards him, obviously trying to get him in the conversation too.
"Well he's just a friend, and I don't know if he fancies me, he's older." Fred's hear rose when he felt Hermione's hand brush slightly over his.
"I bet he does." George said taking another sip of butterbeer, obviously seeing the motion Hermione made but pretending to be oblivious to it.
Later on Fred was happy Hermione's voice almost fully returned, and she could walk around without feeling totally nauseous. She thanked the soup and Fred for both of those things.
George went up to his room early, it was almost about 8 p.m. and he claimed to be "Just tired."
Hermione helped Fred clean up the kitchen; they were both sitting on the kitchen counter waving their wands aimlessly at the dishes that needed to be cleaned while she and Fred talked.
"So who do you fancy?" Fred blurted out, wanting to know if he and George's obvious suspicions of it being himself were correct. The hand gripping his wand tightly, his accidently twitched, sending a pan to bang against the door before falling with a loud rattle to the floor.
Hermione giggled before answering, "Just an older lad, he's not really my type, but I've liked him for some time now." Hermione said looking Fred in the eyes. A smiled carefully appeared on her lips and as a fuchsia color cascaded over her still pale cheeks. A smile twitched at Fred's lips, hoping this was some sort of sign it was him, not hoping, praying. He had always acted like he didn't like Hermione like that; he acted like she'd always been a really good close friend, as she was, but ever since his last year at Hogwarts and her fifth, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.
Fred let the subject drop once more, them both finishing up the dishes. Fred hopped down from the counter he was sitting on then grabbed Hermione lightly by the waist and helped her down too, she blushed when he grabbed her and he smiled.
"Thank you for taking care of me today, I do feel much better than I did this morning." Hermione said as they walked into the main room. Fred smiled.
"No problem 'Mione."
She smiled, "I'm going to head to bed, and I'll see you in the morning. Thanks again." Hermione started to make her way up the stairs and Fred just sat against the arm of the couch, but the footsteps stopped halfway up the stairs, before they turned around and Hermione's face appeared once again.
"And by the way Fred, it's you." She said smiling; she flicked off the light switch leaving Fred in the dark. Fred was at a loss for words, he was so happy, no — so in love with the girl he'd known since his third year at Hogwarts, the girl that had always been the book worm to him, she'd always been just the brightest witch of her age to him, and now she was bound to be his everything in the very, very near future. . .