A/N: I own nothing! Here's a shoutout to yourgypsy! Thanks so much for requesting more Fred/Hermione! Enjoy all who read this! (I hope!)

They'd always said that Fred was the more ruthless of the two, the one prone to harmful hexes and dangerous dares. So when he suddenly walked into the girls' dormitory one day, only to find Hermione Granger dancing to muggle music, she thought that she would never hear the end of it.

Hermione never danced into public. It was, in her mind, against the rules society had set up for her. She was the responsible one, the one that never lost control and the one that never let her guard down. And so, she was never the one that danced, because in dancing, she had to lose control. She had to willing let someone lead her wherever they wanted to go, holding her, guiding her, and she couldn't allow that. Or at least that's what she told herself. In truth, she didn't know how to dance, and she refused to embarrass herself by asking someone to teach her.

She'd currently been twirling around to a certain song she had heard over Christmas break and had fallen in love with when Fred had walked in, completely unannounced and uncalculated for. She had stopped mid-twirl, which almost knocked her over since she had tripped on a rug, and stared at him, the song blaring away, talking about unrequited love, the very reason Hermione had chosen it.

And now, the object of her unrequited affection was standing in front of her, grinning away as he leaned against the doorframe. "Don't you dare smirk at me, Fred Weasley," Hermione growled, glaring at him darkly.

"I wasn't smirking!" Fred protested, flinging his hair, his adorable, red, run-her-hands-through-it hair, out of his face. Hermione's thoughts quickly vanished as Fred grinned again, this time most assuredly smirking, and said, "Nice outfit, Granger."

Hermione looked down to check and see what she was currently wearing, and could have groaned out loud in dismay if she hadn't been stunned into embarrassment. She'd been cleaning her section of the room and had grown hot, despite the cooling charm she had placed around herself, and had been forced to change from her all purpose school robes into muggle clothes. Small muggle clothes.

Her jeans were the result of her mom's inability to wash the laundry correctly, and had thus shrunken so that they were pretty short. When Hermione had found them at the bottom of her trunk, she had instantly decided that she wouldn't wear them again, but the high temperatures had caused her to take back her resolve. After all, who would see her in them? Oh how wrong she had been!

Her top was only slightly better. It was a Gryffindor red tank top with a rather modest neckline. It (thankfully) met her shorts with an inch to spare, but Hermione felt herself tugging on it self-consciously even so. Her discomfort caused her to glare again. "If you don't like it, then you can just leave!" she told him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and regretting not pinning it up.

Fred smiled again and said, "I never said I didn't like it."

Coming from anyone else, the comment could have been taken lewdly and Hermione would have hexed them into the next week, but coming from Fred, there was nothing other than…admiration? For her attire? Was she understanding this correctly?

"Excuse me?" she squeaked aloud, unable to believe her ears.

Fred still hadn't moved from the doorway, but Hermione did notice that he had closed the door behind him. "I said," he told her patiently, "that I never said I didn't like it. In fact, I like it very much." His eyes flickered from her head to her toes and back up again very quickly, noticing that his scrutiny made her blush. Even her manicured toenails curled in embarrassment.

Hermione tried desperately to hide her blush. "Wha-what are you doing here, anyway?" she asked, wishing that he would just go away and leave her alone. Or kiss her and tell her that he'd always loved her and only her. Either option would work for her. But she couldn't stand him just standing there, looking at her.

Fred actually laughed at her question. "Come on, Hermione!" he teased. "Is this the way you treat all your guests? Asking them what they want so they can leave again?" He chuckled, but then noticed that she wasn't laughing. "Hermione? Are you okay?"

Hermione was still staring at him, astonished that he'd called her by her first name. Never had he called her Hermione. "You called me Hermione," she said softly.

Fred quirked an eyebrow at her. "That is your name, isn't it?" he asked curiously.

Hermione laughed slightly. "Yes," she said, "but you've never called me by my name before."

"Really?" Fred looked surprised. "No, I suppose I haven't," he murmured, almost to himself. "Well, I'm sorry about that. I'll have to work on it."

She had magically put the song she'd been listening to on a repeat cycle, so it started over again and Fred tilted his head to listen to the words of the song. "Unrequited love?" he guessed after a moment.

"Sorry, what?" Hermione asked, being startled out of watching him. He looked so handsome simply leaning against her doorframe, listening to a song she had chosen about him. Life tended to be ironic in the most annoying ways.

"The song," Fred told her. "The song you're listening to is about unrequited love, right?"

"Right," Hermione said softly.

"Is it about anyone in particular?" Fred asked her, his gaze no longer teasing, but entirely serious as he focused on her.

"N-no," Hermione stuttered out, not sounding convincing at all. Hermione shrugged, half wishing he would go, half wishing that he would stay. "Was there some reason you came up here?" she asked politely, trying to get to the bottom of this problem so that she could solve it and move on.

"To watch you dance of course!" Fred teased her, enjoying the blush that decorated her face once more. However, faster than she would have liked, his face lost some of its teasing tone and he strode over to her. "You're doing it wrong, though," he whispered in her ear as he drew her closer.

Hermione's eyes widened at the sudden contact with him, contact that she had never had before. Fred moved slightly to the left, and Hermione stayed rooted to her spot in the middle of the floor. Fred pulled away from her, concerned. "Is something wrong?" he asked her worriedly.

Hermione chewed on her lip and muttered something that Fred didn't quite understand. "Sorry, what?" he asked her, leaning closer so that he could hear her.

The scent of her strawberry shampoo wafted up to him as well as the words, "I can't dance."

Fred frowned. "What do you mean, 'I can't dance.'?"

Hermione blushed an even deeper shade of red than she had previously and she ducked her head. How was it that he could embarrass her so many times in such a short period? "I don't know how to dance. The one and only time I've ever danced, Vicktor Krum charmed my feet so that I would be able to dance and I don't remember anything about it."

Fred grinned, thinking of Hermione with charmed feet, but then his grin vanished slightly as he remembered how beautiful she had looked at the Yule Ball. "I'll teach you," he told her simply, pulling her close.

The nearness to him caused Hermione to break and she simply nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.

Without word or wand, the music got a little louder and Fred turned back to her. "Put your hands around my neck," he instructed her.

Hermione did so, ignoring how her hands trembled. "Like this?" she asked softly.

"Perfect," Fred told her with a smile. The music swelled and he placed his hands on her hips. "Now just let yourself go, Hermione." He bent his head and pressed his lips to her ear, causing her to shudder. "Let yourself feel." He moved slightly and the hands on her hips coaxed Hermione to move her hips slightly. He moved again, and their hips moved together, matching the fast rhythm of the song. Hermione could feel the blush creeping up on her face once again. What was with her and blushing today? However, she knew that she was blushing right now because of the intimacy. The feeling of his hips against hers was too sensual for her when she knew that he would never be hers.

As though sensing her sudden discomfort, Fred pulled away and noticed Hermione's averted face. "Perhaps you're not a hip hop kind of person," he mused. With slight concentration, the music changed and he took one of her hands in his and placed the other on her waist, keeping her body slightly away from his. "Perhaps you're more of a waltz person."

He began to move her gently around the room, giving her instructions and leading her effortlessly through the steps. He didn't even wince when her small foot stepped on his toes. However, she was so embarrassed that he laughed and said, "Please, Hermione, dance all over my toes. That's what they're there for."

Hermione laughed and paid more attention, struggling to master the steps faster than Fred expected so that she wouldn't step on his toes again. Finally, they were waltzing around the room with ease, and Hermione was wishing that they could do this all the time.

The music, unfortunately, ended and Fred smiled down at her, not allowing her to step away from his embrace. "Yes, I think you're definitely a waltz person."

"Perhaps," Hermione admitted. "Thank you for the dance."

She tried to step back again, but Fred still held her tightly. "Remember when you asked me why I was here?" he asked her softly.

"Yes."

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me."

Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at Fred for a long moment before she stuttered out, "I-I don't-" She was going to finish with "understand," but she wasn't given the chance.

Fred, thinking that she was going to refuse him, cut in and said, "Hermione, I know you like me. George and I were in here one night to play a prank on Ginny and I heard you talking in your sleep about me. Please Hermione, I like you too." The pleading tone in his voice did not go unnoticed.

Hermione put a hand over her face. "George knows about this too?" she asked miserably, imagining the teasing and insinuations Fred's twin would probably be able to come up with.

Fred wasn't sure how to answer, but he nodded. "Yeah, he heard you that night." Ever so gently, he pulled her hand away from her face. "Is it such a bad thing that people know that?"

Hermione looked up at him, peering at him as though she was trying to see straight through those blue eyes of his for the answer. She found it soon enough in the tender way he was watching her, his face torn between hope and disappointment. "No," she said softly, moving closer to him. "It's not a bad thing at all."

With a smile, Fred bent down and kissed her lips, his hand caressing her upturned face and her unbound hair as she placed her hands on his shoulders. They both smiled into the kiss, and when Fred pulled away, Hermione smiled up at him shyly. "The song I was playing earlier," she told him, "was about you."

Fred grinned and pulled her closer, cueing up the waltz music again as she moved fluidly into his arms. "I know," he told her. "But your love is no longer unrequited. It's very much returned."

Hermione smiled up at him as he twirled her around. "I know."

They moved together once more, no more awkwardness between them. They seemed to be made for dancing, and who knows? Maybe they'll even try hip hop again one day, for the intimacy is no longer a problem. Fred is all hers!

A/N: I hope you liked it! Please review and tell me! :D