A/N: Try as I might, I just can't stay away from Fred/Hermione stories. I've even gone so far as to write one…well, another one. Hopefully this will work out better than the first. This isn't supposed to be a one-shot, but maybe it'll work better if it was. Let me know in your review if you think I should continue.
Chapter 1: Ronny Piggykins
Hermione watched as the sun dipped slowly behind miles of rolling, green hills, and she sighed in contentment. It had been a beautiful summer day, with perfect weather and plenty of bright sunshine to warm the grounds of the Burrow. Hermione, of course, had spent most of her Saturday lounging under the shade of a tree and reading, but with the enthusiastic display of backyard Quidditch before her, she'd found it hard to concentrate for more than thirty seconds at a time. Ron made relaxing especially difficult—every time he managed to block a shot or figured out how to do a new trick on his broom, he'd shout down to Hermione and ask her if she'd seen.
"Yes, Ron," she would reply vaguely, then return to her book.
The boys and Ginny had returned to the house nearly an hour ago to wash up before dinner, leaving Hermione to the peace and quiet she'd been unable to attain all day. She read until the light began to fade around her, then closed her book and marveled at the orange and red sunset. Back at the Burrow, Hermione heard indistinct voices and laughter—the family and Harry were probably just sitting down to eat, and she figured she ought to join them.
Approaching the back door, Hermione could make out Molly Weasley's impatient tone most clearly.
"Ronald Weasley, you call those clean hands?" she pecked. "I swear, people must think I've never taught you proper hygiene!"
"Really, Ronnykins!" one of the twins added mockingly. Hermione thought it was Fred. "You are downright filthy! Like—like a pig!"
There was a sudden pop and a squeal from within the kitchen, followed Mrs. Weasley's horrified scream of "PIG!"
Hermione froze as she listened to the chaos inside the house. She was afraid to go in, unsure of what the twins' most recent prank had resulted in. It couldn't have been good, judging by the noises—chairs were overturned, dishes crashed to the ground, and the Weasleys were yelling, shouting, and even laughing.
Taking careful steps, Hermione came closer to the door and peered through the screen. Sure enough, she spotted Harry, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley running in circles around the kitchen, apparently chasing something she couldn't quite make out. Fred and George were leaning on each other, doubled over in hysterical laughter. Mrs. Weasley was standing atop a chair, holding a broom defensively, as if ready to strike an attacker.
And then Hermione saw the cause of the ruckus, but she didn't have nearly enough time to react. Barreling towards her and squealing like a banshee was a round, pink pig, with a tuft of bright red hair atop its head. It burst through the screen door and collided with Hermione's legs, sending her toppling backwards with a surprised shriek. She fell flat on her rump in a flowerbed and watched, wide-eyed, as the Weasley family tore out after the rampaging hog. Ginny was first, followed by Harry, Mr. Weasley, and even Percy, though his pace was much less fervent than the others'.
Mrs. Weasley trailed behind, still clinging desperately to her broom. As she went, she yelled, "Ron! Come back!"
Moments later, Fred and George ambled through the doorway, wiping away tears of laughter. They, along with Hermione, watched the rest of the family chase the screaming pig throughout the yard. The sight was quite comical, really—Harry falling clumsily to the ground as he lunged for the pig, Mr. Weasley shouting random instructions to aid in the animal's capture, and Mrs. Weasley waving her broom about as she trotted after the others.
George smiled at his brother and held out a hand. Fred shook it cordially and said, "Well done, brother, well done."
"Maybe I'll hop in the chase," George said lightly. "It does look like fun…"
Fred laughed as George threw his arms in the air and ran towards the others, making a strange call that sounded something like a choking turkey. It was only then that Fred noticed Hermione, glued to the ground and staring up at him in shock.
"Why, Hermione!" he said through a snicker. "What are you doing down there in the flowerbed?"
She suddenly remembered to close her gaping jaw and chose to set it in a scowl. "Gardening," she answered sarcastically. Fred offered her a hand up, but she was less than thankful for his help. "You turned Ron into a pig?!" she screeched.
"Well, technically, it was George who did the turning," he replied with an innocent shrug.
"That is so irresponsible!" She added to her point by smacking Fred hard on the shoulder. He cringed and faked severe injury, but Hermione ignored it. "You absolutely have no right! Transfiguring someone against their will is disgraceful and completely uncalled for! Especially your own brother! I cannot believe you would stoop to something—"
Fred was hardly listening while she scolded him. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard already, and he was prepared to hear it many times more. But, all the same, her screeching was actually causing him physical pain. He had to do something about it, even if it only silenced her for a few minutes. That would at least give him enough time to escape.
So, with an amused sigh, he leaned down to Hermione's face and planted a single kiss on her lips.
He didn't linger for long—only two or three seconds—and when he pulled away from her, he realized he'd achieved the desired result. Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers, her mouth was hanging open, and thankfully for Fred, she had finally shut up.
"You really must try to relax, Hermione," he said through a smile. And without another word, he headed off to the garden where everyone else was still in hot pursuit of Ronny Piggykins.