Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine. This is in Hermione's POV, by the way.

"Hermione, wait!"

I couldn't turn around. My feet were seemingly magnetized to the floor each time I lifted one to take a step. I was running. I was running fast. I felt the incompetent beat of my heart as I ran rapidly away from the desperate voice. I had to get away.

"Hermione, listen to me!"

No. I couldn't believe him. It was too perfect. There was a catch, I knew it. It was one kiss we shared, one moment of bliss and purity before my logic caught up with my feelings.

Hence, the position of now. Me running my little legs off to get away from his sweet, masculine, calling voice.

"Hermione!"

I wanted to turn around and run into his arms. I wanted to feel that beautiful crash of lips and intertwining of hearts. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to love him.

"Hermione, dammit, turn around!"

But my legs didn't agree, nor did my brain. It was only my heart that was feeling such rapturous thoughts. I hastily turned a corner, hoping he'd give up. But I should have known better. He wasn't a quitter.

"Hermione, just let me talk to you!"

I couldn't let him talk to me, though! I just couldn't help the fact that I felt unsafe. I have to admit, living life as a know-it-all, despite being Harry Potter's best friend, has made me some sort of prude. I didn't like bad boys who made me feel spontaneous. I wanted someone safe and artistic to fulfill my romantic needs. He was just the opposite: unpredictable, fun, carefree…everything I should have wanted. Everything I was envious of.

"Hermione, stop running away!"

We had become a pair of—unspoken—friends that summer. I'd acknowledge him in the hallways, hug him during term ends, and platonically kiss his cheek during the first day of school, mumbling, "Oh, I missed you!" But, after the one true, kiss we shared, I had to run. I had to end these nonsense feelings. I couldn't let myself fall in love! But it was slowly eating me away…

"Hermione, slow down!"

My calves were aching, my muscles growing sore. My breath was running ragged, my heart beating ferociously. My hair was flying madly, my arms dancing ungracefully. I could picture what he looked like too. His eyes gazing pleadingly, desperate for me to turn around. His hair tousled and flailing about. His long legs striding in fast paces. His lips, parted oh-so-slightly, begging to be tantalized by mine.

"Hermione, I love you!"

That's when I realized it. I stopped dead in my tracks, my ears perking up at the sound of his thunderous footsteps as he tried to catch up with me. I did not turn around. But I realized it: I was in love. I must have been feeling it long before now, as had he. The kiss had merely sewn our feelings together.

Slowly, I turned around to meet his eyes. I stared unwaveringly as his searched mine. His green, lovely eyes, penetrating mine with love and desire. His lovely hair, which I longed to ruffle. His tall, sculpted body which I only wanted to press against mine. I could only come up with one conclusion.

"I love you too, Fred Weasley."

Woohoo! I'm sure only luvseanfaris knows this, but I have a sort of—writer's goal—to write a one-shot for every Hermione/Male pairing. I've got Cedric, Dudley, Blaise, and Draco down so far. Now Fred! Woohoo! Please review!