Title: Discreet Observation
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Rating: FRT.
Warnings: I sort of stole the Cho/Harry mistletoe scene, but I made it better, really I did.
Summary:Unlike Ron's insinuations, Hermione doesn't ogle; she discreetly observes.
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of JK Rowling. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
Author's Notes: Takes place during Order of the Phoenix. Bit of a missing scene, really. And, for the moment, forget the whole Cho/Harry relationship. And I know it's July, but I felt like we needed a happy Christmas fic in light of…Well, you know.
Discreet Observation
The light was dimming in the Room of Requirement; the last meeting of the DA before the Christmas holidays had ended, and various members had either left or were lingering, talking to the others. Ron was talking to Harry, something about a cheat sheet for the O.W.L.s, Luna was explaining to Ginny (again!) about the nature of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, and Neville was standing at the mirror studying the picture of his parents mounted there.
Although she didn't like attention, no more than Harry did and far less than Ron wanted it, Hermione was quite content to sit on the sidelines, momentarily forgotten, and watch her friends. She was most intrigued to watch the Weasley twins as they tossed a magical firework between the two of them, laughing and grinning all the while. Neville had turned to watch, a small smile on his face. Ever since the mass break-out from Azkaban he hadn't smiled much, she thought. He hadn't been happy. She actually didn't know Neville that well, no one did.
Fred (for it must be Fred, he was slightly taller than his twin, and his eyes a darker shade of blue, not that Hermione noticed these things about him) snatched the firework out of the air, did a flip, and tossed it back towards his brother. He bowed towards Neville, his only audience, and Neville grinned as he took off towards the door.
"Transfiguration," he said as he passed Hermione. "Do tell Harry and Ron that I'll see them later, though?"
She nodded nearly imperceptibly, her eyes still on Fred. He was the better looking of the twins, she'd have to say. Not that George was entirely bad, after all, they were identical; she just preferred Fred. There was something about him. Perhaps it was the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, while George liked to keep his emotions tucked in a box behind his heart, or maybe it was the way he looked when he thought no one else was around, like he was so tired already in life. Hermione had already corrected herself in her assumptions of the twins; they were both so much more than they let on. More than the jokes, the pranks, the ever present grins. She wanted to know them, but most of all, to know Fred.
"Hermione!" She felt a hand on her shoulder and started at the weight of it; she had hardly heard the sound of her own name being called right next to her. "Hermione, are you alright?"
It was only Harry. Only Harry, the Boy Who Lived. Her best mate, whom at the moment looked extremely worried. Ron stood beside him, his face an odd shade of red, his hand shoved in his pockets. She wondered vaguely what was wrong with him.
"Is everything alright?"
Harry frowned. "Well, yes, I suppose. It's just that, Hermione, you weren't listening to us. Nearly everyone else has left, and we called your name several times you see—"
Ron muttered something under his breath angrily and looked away from Hermione. She turned away from Harry and looked at her other best mate, narrowing her eyes. Obviously something was bothering him. That was the problem with Ron, he never said what was wrong, just stewed.
"What on earth is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he said nastily. "Although, if you really want to know, why don't you just ask Fred."
Hermione gasped. "Excuse me?"
Ron glared at her as he said, "Oh, you know what I'm talking about! Stop pretending—"
She stood up and clenched her fists at her sides as she rounded on Ron. She couldn't believe him sometimes. "Ronald Weasley, you are being utterly ridiculous. I have no idea what you're talking about, so unless you're prepared to stop being such a child and explain why, then leave this room immediately, go back to Gryffindor Tower, and go to bed!"
Fred, who had lingered behind when he had seen the look on his brother's face as Harry and Ron started toward Hermione, thought that she rather sounded like his mum when she talked like that. And, in spite of himself, he rather liked it.
"You were ogling Fred! My brother! My older brother! What's wrong with you?"
As Harry mumbled some excuses for Ron and half-dragged him out of the room, Hermione heard some papers drop onto the floor. As soon as the door closed behind her fellow Gryffindors, she rounded on the other person in the room with her wand drawn, prepared to hex them into oblivion if they repeated a word of what had been said. If anyone heard that she had been looking at Fred—
Merlin's beard. It was Fred. She gasped and dropped her wand. Neither of them spoke for a moment, both from fear; although perhaps for each a different kind, Fred for fear of what Hermione would say, and Hermione for fear of saying something she really shouldn't, because Fred had already heard enough. Finally Fred gathered enough courage to move closer to Hermione, and he grimaced at the thought of what George would say. Gathering courage to face Hermione Granger? George would take the mickey out of him, twin or not.
"Is it true?" Fred asked at length, picking up her wand and holding it out to her.
She refused to look at him, instead devoting her gaze to the dark stone of the floor, although she did accept the offered wand. "Is what true?"
"What ickle Ronniekins said. Were you ogling me?"
Hermione looked up at him, hoping she looked appropriately shocked and angry. "Fred Weasley, I do not ogle! I should hope you would know that, and remember it." She glared at him for a moment, just for good measure though, but stopped when she noticed how disappointed he looked. He dropped his gaze and there, just there, the slight slump of the shoulders. His ears also reddened a bit, something distinctly Weasley.
"Oh. Well. I'm sorry, Hermione—"
She sighed, ready to make amends. "However, Fred, while I do not ogle," and at this she nearly smiled as he raised his head and looked at her with a soft pout on his lips, he should not be able to do that, "I do discreetly observe."
The wide grin on his face did not go amiss, and she felt her own lips move upward in an answering smile. Something made a noise above them, a rustling, a jingle, and they both looked up slowly. It was an unexpected sight, the greenery above them that was slowly moving out of the ceiling and unfurled towards them.
"Mistletoe," Fred said at length, looking back to Hermione.
"Yes," she replied, "it's probably infested with Nargles though."
Fred cupped her face in his hands and said softly, "I thought you didn't believe Luna about Nargles."
"I don't," she whispered, her arms twining around his waist. He was Ron's brother, she admonished herself. She shouldn't be doing this, but oh, she really wanted to. And besides, it was Christmas and at Christmas you're supposed to be happy.
"That's all well then," Fred replied, "seeing as I plan to stay under here for a very long time. Wouldn't want to be attacked or anything—"
It was then that he kissed her. The kiss was deep, and he pressed against her with a kind of fierce desperation that was just as unfamiliar with the concept of Fred Weasley as the emotions she felt were; she returned his kiss with equal fervor, slid her tongue across his lips as she sought entrance. It was a request that he granted easily and with a slight whimper; she tasted of mint and chocolate, perhaps the product of a dessert after supper, and he enjoyed the feeling of knowing he was the only one who had traveled these roads.
The lights in the Room of Requirement, although dimmed, did not go out for a long time; nor did the mistletoe vanish from the ceiling, but stayed until the pair of students reluctantly parted from each other's embrace, knowing that soon they would be missed. They set off separately to Gryffindor Tower, each knowing that when they got back up to the Common Room, the only thing they'd be able to think of was each other.
FIN.