This is for a challenge, set by 2FatShetlands, Me and batgurl03. If you'd like to check out theirs, it would be much appreicated. 2FatShetland's word was 'Curls' and is a Gemione (George/Hermione). I do not know if batgurl03 has published theirs yet, but her word was 'Platypus' and is a Romione. Please check theirs out!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned.
Note: I am carrying on with my story 'Unforgivable Circumstances' soon. Thank you for being so patient, I've been busy the last 3 months at the farm, calving and lambing :) Thank you and enjoy.
DECOY
Hermione Granger hurtled her Ancient Runes textbook across her and Ginny's temporary bedroom, here at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She was sick of it all; the secrets of the 'Order of the Pheonix', the lies of The Prophet, Hedwig (who was persistantly pecking either hers or Ron's hands), but most of all, she was sick of homework. Yes, you heard right. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her all, little Know-It-All, sick of homework!
Ginny appeared in the doorway, carefully picking up the textbook and lightly throwing it to Hermione, whose face contorted in rage and threw it against the mirror. It tutted, muttering something that sounded oddly like 'Hormones.'.
'Woah, whats the matter?' exclaimed Ginny, taking in her friend's appearance. She had never seen Hermione so...angry. Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously.
'Oh, nothing's the matter with me.' she spat sarcastically. 'Nothing at all! Its not like I want to know why exactly we can't even send a letter to Harry without the say so from Dumbledore! That bloody Hedwig has been pecking me persistantly! Its not like I want to know what's happening with the Order, or with You-Know-Who! Oh no, that possibly couldn't be the reason!' she shouted, not neccessarily at Ginny, just anybody whom might be listening. Ginny's eyes widened reapproachfully and she took a step back from the door frame. Hermione strode towards her, out into the hallway. The house seemed to be silent.
The twins had poked their heads out of their room, obviously concerned. The chatter from the kitchen had died away. Even Mrs Black had seemingly been holding her breath. Hermione was unperturbed.
'Oh, good! I seem to at last have got your attention! Yeah, well, I'm sick of not knowing whats happening with Harry, with the Order, or what the Prophet has been writing. You won't even let us read the bloody thing! Cleaning has been the only thing I've done since I've got here, and I WANT ANSWERS.' she almost screamed the last bit. Finally, the creak of the kitchen door could be heard and Mrs Weasley and Remus Lupin were at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at her in wonder. Mrs Weasley looked close to tears. Hermione instantly regretted her outburst.
'Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry. Its not that I don't mind the cleaning, it's just that I want answers for all the hard-work we've been doing clearing this place up.' There was murmuring assent around her, and she saw Ginny and George's head bobbing up and down in agreement. Fred watched her, mesmerized. She suddenly felt extremely self-conscience, and she turned on her heel and headed back to her room.
She was relieved that no footsteps were heard beind her, following her. She wouldn't know what to do, or say. What was the world coming to? Hermione Granger, speechless!
Hermione walked up to the mirror, studying her reflection, and scowled. Her hair was bushier by about an inch, and she attempted to flatten it to the sides of her head. The mirror sighed.
'Sorry I hit you with the textbook.' she said.
'Don't worry, dear.'
'Any idea's on the hair?' she asked desperately. The mirror was silent, answering her question. She swore loudly, and then screamed.
Frederick Gideon Weasley was standing between her and the mirror, his slender back pressed against the mirror, and his chest pressed against Hermione's. He was as pale as she was, until he flushed crimson under her glare. She stepped dilberately backwards, still scowling at him.
'Sorry 'Mione, just came to see if you were...alright after your little outburst.' he said, and was pleased to see she flushed, embarassed by her behaivour.
'I'm sorry. I really didn't mean any of it. Well, I-I did bu-but...' she was crying now and he stared at her, startled, before steering her towards the bed, where she collapsed. Fred stroked her bushy, static hair absent-mindedly, waiting for her to stop sobbing long enough to engage in conversation. He thought, wisely, that she wasn't the type of person who wanted to be coo'ed at whilst crying. So he merely waited for a minute, until the sobs stopped racking her body and she lay, shuddering yet 'all cried out'.
Hermione turned to him, and gave him a watery smile.
'Sorry you had to see that, Fred. I guess I just need to get out of here, for a while. Its miserable, therefore projecting its msery on me. Sorry.' she whispered. He frowned, a little crease forming between his sparkling hazel eyes.
'Is that really what you want?' he asked hesistantly. She nodded, staring at something in the distance. He chuckled suddenly, and startled her again by pulling her to her feet.
' In that case then, my dear, we need a decoy.'
Hermione had broken a few rules in her existence, many of them necessary at the time, yet this was completely new to her. She and Fred had gone through the plan a couple of times, making sure they knew what roles they had to play, and where they would be at each specific time. Fred had informed her that George knew of the plan, having written it, yet would not be carrying it out alongside them.
Hermione walked slowly downstairs, and knocked on the kitchen door. There was scuffling from inside the kitchen, followed by a loud 'Shush!' by Mrs Weasley. She opened the door, saw Hermione standing there, and closed it forcefully behind her.
'Mrs Weasley, I'm so sorry for my outburst earlier, I don't know what came over me, really...' she babbled. Mrs Weasley smiled kindly.
'Its only natural, dear. Not to worry!' she trilled quickly. Hermione winced and pressed on.
'I feel I need to apologise for making a scene to the others. Can I? It'll only take a moment.' she asked. Mrs Weasley faltered and bit her lip, before nodding quickly and opening the kitchen door again.
Hermione stepped inside, heat rising up into her face. She was all too aware that everyone had heard her outburst, everyone from ex-Auror Alastor Moody to her Potions master, Severus Snape. She addressed the table.
'I am so sorry for making a scene earlier. But do you understand why I did? I just need answers!' she exclaimed. She silently dropped her hand into her jean pocket, searching for the key item. She found it, and dropped it to the floor, where it lay silent for a moment.
Suddenly, there was a massive bang and cloud of purple smoke. It made a high-pitched squeal and spun up in the air, bouncing off the kitchen walls.
Mrs Black gave an almighty scream.
'SOMEBODY FOULING MY PORTRAIT, HOW DARE YOU, FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR! GET OUT, OUT! OUT OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!' she shrieked. Hermione bit back a laugh, and watched the scene unfold.
Sirius and Lupin ran to the portrait, whilst the others tried to capture the 'Decoy Detonator'. A hand found hers and she grinned up into Fred Weasley's face, before rushing through the kitchen, out of the back door and into the night.
'That was amazing! You're a genius!' she gushed, once outside. Fred smirked and held her hand tighter, running through the street into the gardens opposite.
'Why thank you, Granger.' he said. Hermione gazed up at him, grinning like the Chesire Cat. He gently picked up a stray wringlet from her face, and tucked it behind her ear carefully. She blushed crimson, yet could not break the gaze of his hazel eyes on her chocolate brown one's. She wondered absent-mindedly what colour George's were. Her lips parted slightly, to form the question. She never got the question out.
His lips were soft, warm and tasted delicious. She couldn't place a name to what their taste were, though, and that bugged her. She was kissing him back, more forcefully. She was sure their lips would be bruised by the end of this. Then the pressure against her own lips was retracted, leaving hers yearning for more.
'Sorry,' he stammered, turning away from her slightly. Hermione stepped with him.
'Don't. Please.' she whispered urgently, and she kissed him again, more gently this time. He pushed her away slightly, and her face fell.
'One thing. Mum and Dad say that a war is brewing. If it does, and if we win, will you be with me?' he asked, equally as urgent as her kisses.
'Always.' she promised, before his sweet lips met hers again, leaving her breathless for a significantly long while.
The promise turned to dust, as she saw his lifeless body at Hogwarts. She stared numbly at him, silently begging him to wake up, to become concious once more. But he never did. She had pulled Ron away desperately, attempting to compose herself. It didn't really matter if she lived or died now. Her gravatational force on the world had left, the moment the light in his eyes had. She had no hope, no faith now.
Sometimes, she sits by his grave, reading his copy of 'Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches'. He had once told her that he had based it on her, and how he charmed her. She had scoffed at him then. Now she wishes she didn't.
Ron had shown her affection, so much so that it had almost suffocated her. But Hermione was mature, wise and realised that everyone expected them to 'get together', as it were. She felt nothing for Ron, only deep brotherly love. Nothing more, yet nothing less. She would have chosen Fred in a heartbeat, if only he wasn't duelling under the wall that had killed him. Maybe, in time, she would grow to love Ron. Maybe, in time, the love would grow to be as strong as her love for Fred.
She doubted this, but maybe. Fred was her first real love, her first kiss that she had initiated. And most of all, the plan that brought them together was her first decoy of many to come, though she had not known it at the time.