Title: The Night Before the Morning After
Author: Wondertitch
Summary: Hermione's depressed, so Fred finds a way to cheer her up.
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
WARNING: I can't remember if there's any bad lanuage, indication of het sexual activity...
Disclaimer: Fine, I have stolen these characters and used them to perform my whim, I own nothing. Ok?
The Night Before the Morning After
Slowly the Order trudged through the front door of their week old headquarters. At the door, an older couple greeted each and every one of them, offering food and drinks. They were Mr and Mrs McGonagall-Banks, cousins of Professor McGonagall on her father's side, and seeing as they were rich, owned a huge house and had been close to her all of their life, they were only to happy to allow their massive house in the country to become a Headquarters for a war they knew nothing about. The most surprising thing about the entire event was that McGonagall was muggle born, seeing as she had never mentioned it before.
Hermione entered the building just as downtrodden as the others, followed by the Weasley twins who were somewhat chirpier. As the group crammed into the large (but still not big enough for the entire army) living room, it became a race for the sofas and chairs, everyone using the last of their strength to find a place to rest.
"Well," Lupin began wearily, "that was more of a victory than a defeat. We're all still here, aren't we?" he asked unsure to Moody, who nodded. "And we know that they are a few down. Now, I recommend eating well and a good night's sleep. Molly?" He said, turning to the red headed housewife who had just walked in.
"Yes." She said, with forced sweetness. She had been told by Mr Weasley not to get involved with the fighting, and ever since she had put on this over exaggerated mother character to the entire army, telling them what to do, when and how to do it, then telling them off if they didn't listen. Mind, it did mean she was cooked all of the meals, and everyone was thankful for that.
Hermione sighed, and climbed the rest of the stairs. Ever since… what had happened, she stayed away from most of the group. She walked the two fleets of stairs to the room she had claimed in the struggle for a good bed, and opened the door to the small bedroom. Despite being small, it housed a double bed that invaded most of the space in the room.
With a thump, she fell onto the bed and crawled to the top. 4 months. 4 months they had been fighting, everyday getting no further into stopping Voldemort. And it wasn't without its losses.
Neville, Dean, Seamus, Tonks and Luna. Hermione winced, trying to block the images that came with just thinking about her name. Harry too, though only in spirit. Ron had seemingly regressed into an eleven year old again to cope with the constant mothering, all of her Professors and older friends spent all of their time in the basement planning and even the McGonagall-Banks seemed to be suffering.
In fact, it occurred to her, that the only two people to not have lost all of their personality were Fred and George, just as they burst through her door.
"Hey Hermione," Fred said, with a smirk.
"Mum wants to know if you're planning to 'stop sulking and come and eat something'." George said, finishing a perfect imitation of his mother.
"Nah thanks, guys." She answered glumly, suppressing a smile.
"Yeah,"
"We knew you'd say that."
"We told her for you." Fred finished.
"We've got something to, you know,"
"Cheer you up."
Hermione raised her eyebrow, she highly doubted it. "What?"
"Fire Whiskey!" The two chorused, producing a bottle each that Hermione hadn't even been aware they were hiding.
"Come on… just a sip." Fred said wickedly.
"Well, seeing as you worked to hard to bring it to me." Hermione shrugged, moving so the two could find a place to sit.
A couple of hours later and it was official, Hermione was roaring drunk and couldn't stop laughing.
"It wasn't that funny." Fred said, despite giggling himself.
"I – know – I – can't – stop." Hermione said, between giggles.
"Now, you must calm yourself." Fred said, straightening his face. Hermione did her best to copy him, but when she saw his lip quiver she couldn't help turning into a giggling mess on her bed, quickly joined by Fred.
"Hey, where's George?" Hermione asked suddenly, still giggling slightly.
Her question was answered with a loud snore. The pair looked at each other and crawled to the end of the bed, where the snore had come from. Lying there, clutching an empty bottle tightly to his chest , was George, sound asleep.
Fred and Hermione looked at each other and laughed again.
"I wondered where the second bottle was." Hermione said, frowning. "Greedy pig."
"I guess we'd better be off." Fred sighed, rolling off of the bed and landing on his feet.
"You've done that before." Hermione chuckled, rather impressed.
"Hell yeah." The twin slurred, straightening his jumper. "Come on George, we're o-"
Hermione grabbed his sleeve. "Please don't go." Her eyes were suddenly full of fear; Fred was grounded on the spot with worry.
He sat down next to her, "What's wrong sweetie?" His voice was deathly serious.
"I'm scared…"
"Of what?"
"Of falling asleep. And seeing it again." Hermione sat upright. Her eyes began filling with water.
"Seeing what?" Fred asked bewildered.
"I should have saved her, Fred, but instead I froze." Hermione looked at her duvet, tears falling onto the material and temporarily staining it. "I killed her."
Sighing, Fred pulled the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "What happened to Luna isn't your fault. You tried your best, that's all she or anyone else could have asked of you." He held her chin and pulled it to face him. She looked so beautiful through the tears, so adorable. She looked like all she needed was reassuring. Then, before he knew what he was really doing…
Her lips were so soft, she tasted like Fire Whiskey and something else. Something he could only describe as her taste. And boy, did she taste good. He wanted more of it, more of this fantastic Hermione taste, when it pulled away from him.
"George." She said, staring at him.
"No, I'm Fred." He thought she had worked out which one was which by now.
"No, idiot, George!" She said, pointing at the unconscious body on the floor.
"Oooooh." Fred jumped to his feet, picked up his brother and quickly left the room. Well, as quickly as he could whilst carrying his own weight, which Hermione noticed was surprisingly fast.
She stared at the door for a few seconds, swaying ever so slightly. Then wiped her face of tears. God, that was embarrassing. Hermione thought, probably scared the guy off.
With a bang, Fred opened the door and winced. "Everyone's either in bed or in the basement."
"So we need to be quiet?" Hermione asked, bewildered and not really understanding the statement the man before her had just come out with.
He shrugged, clearly not understanding it either. Next thing either of them knew, they were kissing again. Fred pulled away for a second, swiftly removed his jumper then went back to kissing Hermione, who then began to giggle.
"What?" Fred said breathlessly. "I was hot?"
"I'm not about to deny that." Hermione said with a shrug. And she kissed him again.
Slowly, the pair leaned back against the bed, until Fred was lying on top of Hermione.
The rest, as they say, is drunken history.
Read and Review people, then I'll post the next morning.