Here it is, a FreMione I've wanted to write for a while. It was in a draft message on my phone for weeks, you know. "Hermione gets bugged by mosquitoes." R&R, guys. And I seriously mean it. REVIEW. It won't kill you to press that li'l' green button.
Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I'd definitely have a better laptop.
"Fred! George! Will you stop testing your stupid products on innocent first years?" I snapped, snatching what I supposed was a Puking Pastille from a tiny, yellow-haired girl. I had to admit it, Harry was right. The first years did seem to be getting smaller.
"That's not even a Snackbox, Hermione!" George cried indignantly. Fred seemed to have disappeared. "It's just a normal sweet!"
"Yes, and I'm Albus Dumbledore," I retorted, squashing the sweet in the palm of my hand.
"Seriously," George said persuasively. "It's really just a candy."
"Be that as it may, George, there is no proof that you haven't tampered with it. It might… turn her hair pink or… give her an elephant's trunk!"
"Firstly, I'm Fred," he told me, grabbing the candy out of my hand. I started at the sudden contact. "And secondly, it's really just a candy, a plain, un-tampered-with candy. I'll prove it!" And so saying, he stuffed it into his mouth. I waited.
Nothing happened.
The first year had long since disappeared and I rolled my eyes. "Firstly, you're George. And secondly, fine. I concede. It's just a normal candy."
"Would you like one, Granger?" a voice asked, very close to my right ear.
"Merlin, Fred!" I shrieked, jumping away. "Don't sneak up behind me like that!"
"I'm George!"
"Yeah, nice try." I rolled my eyes again. And then, "… George, what the hell is going on with your hair?" I surveyed him through narrowed eyelids. His normally flaming, firetruck-red hair was flashing a dozen different colours a second. Red, green, blue, purple… they changed so rapidly and so randomly that my eyes hurt simply looking at it.
"Right, it isn't a normal candy. But I swear, I didn't know it wasn't. I thought it was a toffee!" Giving him a suspicious look, I turned to walk away, tossing my hair behind me. I heard a whip! as it made impact and an indignant "OI!"
Fred grabbed my arm and pulled me back, although gently. Tingles radiated out from the spot where his big, warm hand touched my bare skin.
"Your hair poked me in the eye, Granger," he said menacingly. His face hovered dangerously close to mine, and I wondered vaguely if he was trying to intimidate me. Vaguely, because I was getting drunk off his smell.
It was indescribable, almost bordering on overwhelming. Something sharp and spicy, like cinnamon, balanced out with wood smoke and oranges. Mmmmh. If it means smelling this, I should let Fred grab my arm more often.
"Granger. Hermione? Hermione!" someone said loudly. I looked up to see Fred and George looking down at me in a concerned sort of way. "All right there? You spaced out for a bit."
"Yeah, sorry," I muttered, breaking away from Fred's grasp on my arm. "Had a flashback," I lied quickly. "Oh, and if you're trying to intimidate me, it's a lost cause."
"How did you tell us apart?" George asked me curiously. It wasn't the question I'd been expecting and it threw me for a minute.
"Erm – I dunno," I said slowly. "Fred, your hair is a bit darker. And your eyes are more of a cerulean blue, while George's are cobalt. George, you have a mole on your left eyelid. Also, Fred's generally more boisterous," I told them. They looked flabbergasted, and I smiled inwardly in triumph. Take that, Romilda Vane. I rendered the Weasley Twins speechless.
And then I stopped myself, because it was an odd thought to have. For me, at least. The one girl in Gryffindor Tower not in love with one or both of the Weasley Twins.
"Im -" George began.
"-pressive," Fred finished. "Not bad, Granger. Not many people can - "
" – tell us apart. Not even - "
" – our own mother!"
Slightly dizzy from the exchange, I shook my head slightly at their antics, walking away to sit by the fire with Harry and Ron.
A pair of crystalline blue eyes – two pairs, to be precise – stared at me from down the table. I did my best to ignore them.
The twins had been staring at me since yesterday. In the common room during a free period, I'd felt a ball of parchment hit my head, and opened it to find a note from the twins.
Come over here for a second – F & G.
I didn't like the assumption that I'd simply follow their commands, so I simply tossed the parchment into the fire. Seconds later, there was another rustle as the parchment landed at my feet.
Okay, PLEASE come over here for a second? –F & G. I'd glanced over at the twins quizzically and they beckoned me over.
I didn't want to go; I was doing an essay for Snape that was absolute murder. Grabbing the piece of parchment, I wrote a reply and tossed it back to them. Not now. Doing an Acromantula venom essay for Snape – H.
Moments later, it hit my head again, making me jerk in surprise. I scowled, holding up my once-neat essay so that the culprits could see the huge black smudge my hand had made as I jerked. They grinned apologetically, and motioned to the note.
Come on, it's important. Please? We'll help you with your essay, we did it already – F & G.
I sighed, considering my options. I had left the essay far too late, only remembering it when I'd seen Harry and Ron slogging away at it. On the other hand, the twins didn't seem likely to stop bugging me.
It took looking at the giant smudge on the parchment to make up my mind. Seriously, NOT NOW. You made my ruin the paper, now I'll have to do it again! And I don't need help. I'll be done in half an hour, talk to me then- H. I looked at them while they read the note and smile as they shrugged resignedly. I returned to my essay.
The most important properties of Acromantula venom are firstly, it's ability to, when strained, replace Chimaera skin in the making of the Posthumous Identification potion. Another property is –
Someone poked me. "WHAT?" I shrieked, nearly upending my ink bottle in frustration. Ginny shrank back, looking scared. "Oh," I said guiltily. "It's you."
"Who did you think it was?" she asked, picking up my copy of Wuthering Heights.
"Erm – someone," I said evasively, although my eyes involuntarily darted to the corner where the twins were. Luckily, she missed it.
"Hermione, d'you think Harry likes Cho?" she asked suddenly, now twirling one of my favourite quills between her fingers. It seemed she always needed something to play with.
"I know he likes Cho," I said without thinking. Noticing the hurt on her face, I hastened to soften my careless remark. "But why does it matter? He'll get put off soon, no boy could like a girl who cries so much," I scoffed.
"Thanks, Hermione," she said gratefully, making to stand up. I stopped her, a hand reaching out to grab her arm.
"Not so fast, Miss Weasley. Why, pray, do you care if Harry likes Cho? You're dating Michael, remember? What happened to 'Oh, Michael's so sweet and kind!' or 'Oh, he's such a good kisser!'?"
"I do like Michael!" she cried, trying to wrest her arm out of my grasp.
"But…?" I prompted, holding on tight.
"But he can be an arrogant prat sometimes, all right? You know I still have a small soft spot for Harry." She blushed, and I let her go.
"Arrogant? In what way?"
"He acts like he owns the bloody castle. And every day, he'll tell me about Quidditch practice, and describe each of his goals in vivid, excruciatingly boring detail. Not to mention, he keeps downtalking Harry. It makes me want to sock him sometimes."
"If it bugs you that much, dump him," I advised fairly.
"I've tried, but he just - "
"Granger!" a voice interrupted. Fred appeared by my side, grasping my arm as he had done yesterday. I breathed in automatically.
"Were you manhandling our sister?" George asked sternly.
"Oh yes, I was just… abusing her!" I drawled with a poker face.
"Sarcasm is not always healthy, young lady," Fred told me as he led me away.
"Erm – where are you taking me?"
"Can't have you molesting our sister like this. Time for punishment."
And so saying, they dragged me out of the common room. I got one last look at Ginny's confused face before the Fat Lady slammed shut.
Five minutes later…
"The Room of Requirement?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow. Fred and George paced in front of the wall a couple of times and a door materialised. Fred pulled it open and George pushed me in.
The Room of Requirement was where we had our DA sessions, but you'd never know it from the décor of the room this time around.
Fred and George seemed to have asked for some kind of massive wizard laboratory. Mixtures stirred themselves, a clipboard floated around taking notes, liquids of every colour bubbled and fizzed.
"We need your help, Hermione," George told me sincerely.
"There's this one potion that we can't get right," Fred finished.
I looked at them sceptically. "What does this potion do?"
"It renders people unable to perform magic for up to fourteen hours, depending on the dosage. There's one ingredient missing but we can't figure out what it is."
"No," I said without thinking. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, talking without thinking.
"But whyyy?" the twins whinged.
"Because I am a prefect, and it's my duty to stop mischief, not aid in creating it." I sniffed haughtily and turned on my heel. It would've been a pretty dramatic exit had George not popped up in front of my face.
"It's for a good cause," he told me. I blinked at his sudden proximity; he was inches away from my face. I spun around, uncomfortable with his closeness, and came face-to-face with Fred.
As opposed to my reaction to George, my reaction to Fred was the polar opposite. My breath suddenly came short and my heart pounded louder in my chest. Forcing my vocal chords to work, I told them, "And what, exactly, would this good cause be?" My eyes darted to his lips and back, and I had a sudden, intense desire to lean forward and kiss him. Just to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
"Fun. Laughter." Fred shrugged and the scent of his cologne washed over me. I inhaled sharply.
"I can't have you using it on students," I said regretfully. "It's a great piece of magic, though."
"Student?" they both exclaimed. "No!" I waited with a raised eyebrow.
"Here's our plan, Granger," George began. "First, we're going to cast a spell that will cause all the elemental decrees to rip themselves off the wall and fly around the school."
"How?"
"A version of Wingardium Leviosa, I don't know. We'll figure something out," he said impatiently.
"And secondly," Fred continued, "We'll make sure that Umbridge can't stop it by slipping a little of this - " he motioned to the bubbling, transparent potion, " – into her evening pumpkin juice. The House Elves'll do it for us. So, she won't be able to stop the spell, and the teachers hate Umbridge; they won't try to stop the spell either."
It only took the memory of Harry's scars to help me decide. "Fine. I'll help you," I told them.
"Really?"
"Have you guys got scars?"
They held out their hands for my inspection. On each identical hand, in identical handwriting, I must not distract other students was carved into the freckled skin. Red stars danced in front of my eyes from the strength of my anger and I closed my eyes, pushing their hands away.
"Yeah. I'll help you. Can I see the ingredients you've put in so far?" Fred handed me a list, our fingers brushing for a brief second. Powdered Hippogriff talon, Kneazle skin, Bormien juice, essence of a Screaming Scrapper…
"Eldwork," I said suddenly.
"Eh?" Identical looks of confusion. I looked from one to the other, my heart fluttering slightly as I looked at Fred. Identical though they were, I had an inexplicable reaction to Fred and Fred alone.
"Eldwork. The sap of it, to be precise. It won't be easy to get hold of, but the potion you're attempting to brew will need it. It serves the dual purpose of blocking off the magic in a being and keeping the Potion transparent so that she won't be suspicious if her Pumpkin juice is a different colour. Also, it will render the potion unreactive, so Umbridge's goblet won't explode or anything." I finished my assessment, looking up to see if they had understood my choice and my reasons. I only got a seconds' warning: all of a sudden, two pairs of identical arms were wrapping around me and Fred's cologne was invading my nostrils, making my mind go blank. George's cologne was different, something spicy and sharp, without the hint of sweetness that was there in Fred's. Ginger rather than cinnamon. Pity, I thought. I've never really liked ginger.
"You're a lifesaver, Hermione," Fred whispered into my hair. "And damn, your hair smells good," he added, sniffing.
"I – er – ungh," I stammered, unable to articulate past the fuzz in my brain and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me. I felt George let go, but Fred held on a couple of seconds, staring into my eyes for a moment before pulling away. I did not miss the quizzical look George shot Fred, and I wondered what it meant. I had climbed up to my dormitory lost in thought – thoughts of Fred, oddly enough.
"Parvati," I said when she entered the dorm. She looked at me questioningly, alerted by the tone of my voice.
"Yeah, Hermione? Everything okay?"
"How do you know when you fancy someone?"
"Well, I suppose… if you feel nervous around them," she answered thoughtfully. "If you miss them when they're not around… if you feel and urge to kiss them when they're near… why do you ask? Who is it?" she asked me curiously.
"Erm – no one. Just asking," I said hurriedly. Nice although Parvati was, she and Lavender were Hogwarts' biggest gossipmongers. I pulled the curtains around my bed with a murmured "Goodnight" and curled up under the blankets where I lay thinking about her words.
Nervous? Check.
Missing Fred? Yes. I had to admit it, I was missing the cheerful banter between him and George, even though I had only just been with them.
Feeling an urge to kiss him? Most definitely. Right, Hermione, why not just feel the urge to insult a Hippogriff? It might have less embarrassing results, a snide voice whispered in my head.
"Shut up," I muttered out loud.
"Did you say something, Hermione?" Parvati asked.
"No – no," I said quickly, stammering a bit. "Just hit my finger on the corner of the bed. I'm okay."
She didn't say anything, and I closed my eyes, falling into a dream featuring cerulean blue eyes, cinnamon-and-orange cologne floating around in the air and someone's warm arms wrapped around me.
And that was yesterday. I knew exactly why there were twin gazes boring into my back, but I was too focused on the staff table. As Umbridge walked in, I finally spared Fred and George a glance, meeting Fred's eyes and jerking my head towards the staff table questioningly. I received twin nods in response.
"Do it!" I mouthed to them. They grinned before standing up and shoving Harry and Ron out of the way so they would sit beside me.
"Al - " George started.
" – ready –" Fred continued.
" – done." George finished. Fred slung an arm around me and I tried to breathe. And then we watched as the whole of Hogwarts quieted in response to the ever-growing rushing noise in the hallways.
It was like pressure building in a cooker. The doors of the Great Hall bulged inwards slightly before Fred flicked his wand discreetly at it and they opened.
And then a flood of papers was bursting into the Great Hall, swirling around our heads and concentrating around Umbridge. The twins and I watched with glee as she rose, brandishing her wand – and nothing happened. The papers still continued to rocket around, smacking students upside their heads and splashing into jugs of water and pumpkin juice. The confusion on her face was too much for me, and I ducked under the table to hide my laughter, Fred and George doing the same on either side of me.
"Minerva! Flitwick!" Umbridge screeched, giving up on her wand and simply dropping under the table to shield herself. It was a move doomed to fail; the papers simply streamed under the table, too. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick simply started shepherding students out of the Hall, leaving Umbridge to be attacked by her own decrees. I tried to stay with the twins to celebrate our success, but Harry and Ron grabbed me and gave me the third degree as soon as I reached the common room.
"Why did the twins sit next to you?"
"Why were you all looking like you knew this would happen?"
"Did you help them with it?"
"Nah, mate, she's Hermione Granger. She doesn't help pranksters."
"That's all you know, Ronniekins," said Fred, who was passing by.
Harry and Ron looked at me strangely, but the silence was broken by my homework planner announcing unfinished homework. Grateful for the distraction, I announced that I was going to do my essay down by the lake and no one was to bother me. Grabbing my bag and a quill, I escaped out of the portrait hole before Harry and Ron could question me again.
I batted away a mosquito, frowning down at my textbook. Elemental charms was originally used by Castor the Careful in the year 400 B.C. Castor perished when a fire raged out of control, but not before he was able to pass on his secret to his son, Nestor. Elemental charms is now a commonly used, safe practice. An example can be found in charming a flower to stay alive – the flower being a part of the element Earth. The principles of –
"ARGH!" I shrieked, batting away yet another mosquito. I slammed my book down in irritation, crossing my arms in a huff. And then uncrossing them to smack at a mosquito.
"Yes, because smacking out wildly is a sure-fire way to kill a mosquito," a very familiar voice drawled. I whipped around to see the familiar shock of red hair.
"Hey, Fred. DAMNIT!" I screeched as another one of the vile insects bit me.
"It's your fault for coming out here without wearing mosquito-repelling cream," he told me sternly, taking out his wand. I watched as he cast a charm and a glowing blue light enfolded us. Several sizzles sounded as mosquitoes tried to get through the barrier and got fried. I cackled psychotically and he gave me a strange look. I tried to cover it up by making an intelligent comment.
"Where did you learn this charm?"
"From a book, why?"
I gasped. "You can read?" He gave me a dark look and I giggled. "No, but seriously. This spell's really neat, reminds me of Muggle inventions to kill mosquitoes."
"Really? What do Muggles use?"
"They put a bright light inside a barred box and when the mosquito flies in, it gets fried."
"Neat. It wouldn't work here, though. The –"
"- magic interferes with Muggle devices. Hogwarts: A History. You've read it?" I breathed in awe, my liking for Fred Weasley increasing tenfold.
"First and only time in the library," he told me with a wink.
"How on earth did you even manage three OWLs?" I asked in wonder.
"Pure skill," he deadpanned, before a bright, cheeky smile broke over his face. He leaned closer, very close, and whispered in my ear. "But we don't need grades for what we're planning."
I turned my head very slightly. "What are you planning?"
"Something big," he said softly, his breath whispering over my cheek. I couldn't resist it. I turned my head fully so his lips were only a breath away from mine, and paused. I would leave the decision up to him. He looked surprised at my boldness, but almost immediately made his decision.
Warm, soft lips crashed onto mine, moving and melding in a way that left me breathless. It wasn't my first kiss, but it might as well have been, for it left me just as starstruck.
"Hermione?" he asked uncertainly, not knowing what I wanted. In a sudden, bold move, I leaned up to capture his lips again. I felt his smile and my own lips quirked up in response. He left my lips to kiss up my neck and I shivered as his teeth grazed my earlobe. My lips tingled with need and I yanked on his hair, pulling his face back up to mine. He pulled me down to the grass, still kissing me. His tongue flicked against my bottom lip and I moaned, allowing him access. As he kissed me, his fingers stroked my face gently and mine knotted in his hair, one hand occasionally trailing down to tease my nails across the back of his neck.
And when he pulled away, I was far too disappointed.
"Hermione – what?" he asked, bewildered. I was just as confused as him and my hand moved involuntarily to my kiss-swollen lips, making sure that it really had happened.
"Fred…"
"I didn't expect that to happen," he said abruptly, rubbing the back of his head. I felt a mad urge to giggle at the adorable gesture.
"Neither did I." It was true. Sure, I'd wanted to kiss him but I'd never imagined that I would.
"Listen, Hermione. I'm sorry if – if I gave you the wrong impression or something," he began, and my heart dropped into my shoes at his words.
Of course. What did I think? That we'd kiss and live happily ever after? No. I was still Hermione Granger, swotty little bookworm. And he was still Fred Weasley, prankster extraordinaire.
"I – " the words stuck in my throat. Slowly, I stood and packed my books, and walked away without looking back. All I hoped was that Fred hadn't seen the tears on my face.
"I don't know what to do, George!" Fred groaned into his hands. His head felt like someone was driving a shaft of ice into it and he groaned again, sinking back into his pillows.
"What exactly happened?" his twin asked, tossing a Quaffle up and down. Fred recounted the story sadly and George shook his head at his twin.
"Do you fancy her, Fred?"
"I – I think so. She's a bloody amazing kisser, and she's so smart and witty…" he trailed off at George's amused look and threw a pillow in his twin's direction.
"You missed. Anyway, if you really do like her, I think I have a plan." Fred uncovered his face slowly to look at his twin. A most promising expression was spreading across George's face, and Fred was more grateful than ever that he had a twin like George.
I stared at the little bunch of bluebells in shock. Over the last week, they'd been appearing everywhere. How on earth did the sender know they were my favourite flowers? The only person who knew was –
"Harry," I snarled. Although the flowers were very sweet, I had no space in my vase for them anymore. Not to mention, they were attracting entirely too much attention from Parvati and Lavender. I stalked over to where he was sitting with Ron and yanked him up, dragging him over to a window. "Harry. Did anyone come and ask you what my favourite flower was?"
"N-no." But the guilty expression on his face gave it all away.
"You're a terrible liar, Harry. If you ever have to lie to Voldemort, he won't even need Legilimency to know you're fibbing. Who was it?"
"Fred," he muttered resentfully. I stood stock-still, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Anger, hurt, hope, happiness.
Was he the one sending me the flowers?
Looking around the common room, I noticed a significant absence of red-haired twins. George was sitting quietly in the corner, holding hands with Katie Bell. But Fred was nowhere to be seen.
"Harry," I asked slyly as an idea struck me. "D'you think I could borrow the Marauder's Map?"
Fred leaned back against the tree and skipped a stone across the Black Lake as he tried not to think about Hermione. He knew why she'd walked away, she must have thought he didn't like her when he had said he didn't want to give her the wrong impression. Figures. The one time Granger's wrong, it's when it matters most.
A crunch of shoes on stone echoed behind him and a strikingly familiar scent hit his nose. It was like watermelon and orange, sweet and light and citrusy.
"Hermione," he said without turning around. "How'd you find me?"
"Marauder's Map," she told him, holding the map up to show him. She tapped it, muttered "Mischief managed" and folded it neatly, stuffing it in her pocket.
"Have you been sending me all those flowers?
"Yes. Did you like them?"
"Of course I did. It was very sweet of you to ask Harry about my favourite flower."
"Hermione, I need you to know that when I said you might get the wrong impression, I didn't mean – I wasn't saying that I was sorry for leading you on, or anything." He came closer, looking in her eyes to prove his point. "I don't do that. With anyone. I kissed you because I want to be with you. If you'll accept, that is."
Alarm filled him as her eyes welled with tears. But it was wasted, as she ran up to him to press her lips to his. Without thinking, he kissed her back, his hands gently holding her waist. No words were needed. It was beautiful and perfect and it would last, he hoped.
And as she pulled back, he knew he's never look at Hermione Granger's lips in the same way again.
"You're a bloody good kisser, you know that?" the words slipped out of him and he clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. But she only laughed.
"You're not so bad yourself, Fred." He smiled, taking her hand. The two of them walked back up to the castle hand-in-hand, enjoying the cool night air.
"You know, the rest of the school will cause a right scene in the Great Hall," she warned as they reached the portrait hole.
"Should I care?" he asked her, one eyebrow raised.
"If you don't, I don't," she said softly. "Billywig," she added to the Fat Lady. She swung forward, and Hermione and Fred shared a look before climbing through.
Thanks for reading! Hope the POV changes weren't too confusing. R&R, lovelies. xoxo Tara
