I wrote this about 2 years ago and just revised it because I was bored. I don't own Harry Potter.
Shattered Glass, Shattered Hearts
The shatter of glass might as well have been the shattering of her heart. As she watched with a look of complete and utter devastation she saw Ron forced against a table, pushed there by his recent toy; Tonya. They had been dating for some number of months, a number which Hermione could care less about tracking, and Ron had proposed just seconds prior. In Tonya's haste to show her unabashed affection for the youngest Weasley brother she had jumped Ron and shoved him against the table holding the glittering glass punch bowl. The resounding "CRACK" that followed couldn't be deciphered from the noise that the shattering of Hermione's hope made. The hope that one day maybe, just maybe, Ron would come back to her. The sparkly shards of glass and the blood red liquid it had contained splattered everywhere soaking Hermione's newly purchased white dress robes. One thing had already broken at this party; Hermione would not be the second. So before the sob in her throat could make itself known she turned on heal and swished out of the room to find the nearest bathroom. No one would miss her, everyone being too caught up in the joyous turn of events for the Weasley clan. It was better that way though.
The room was a buzz with the exciting news and nobody had noticed Hermione's hasty exit from the party. Well, one perceptive set of eyes had, and with a quick "Reparo" the set of eyes and their owner had flown out of the room as well in search of the young lady. The man, Fred Weasley, ascended the stairs of his childhood home and as he did he heard a stifled sob coming from one of the bathrooms on the second floor. Softly he knocked on the door and then opened it to find her sitting on the closed toilet lid, head in hands.
"Hermione?" She quickly stood up, adjusting her robes and drying her tears. Nothing could hide the sadness in her eyes though. As he gave her a once over the bright red stains at the hem of her robes caught his attention.
"You haven't cleaned off the punch." She glanced down at the splotches forgetting they were there, too preoccupied with other things.
"I'll get it. Don't worry." Something in him didn't believe this false front she was all of a sudden putting on. Why would he though? He knew how Hermione cared for Ron. He also knew how big of a git Ron was. This proposal caught him completely off guard and it gave him and unpleasant taste in his mouth.
"I'm not dumb Hermione. I'm a lot of things, but dumb isn't one of them. You're upset about Ron and Tonya, I know."
She sniffled and dabbed at a few stray tears, but said nothing. She didn't need to though, it was written all over her face.
"Ron's a git. He's had you in front of him for 11 years and he goes off with some ditz. That tells me he's not worth any of your tears or heartache. He may share my blood, but I don't share his idiocy. I would never throw something like what he had with you away."
At this Hermione's eyes welled up with more tears and before she knew what she was doing she divested him in a giant hug. The childhood crush she had on him years ago began beating at her heartstrings with a new vigor after his words. He slowly pulled away from her and looked straight into her eyes.
"No more crying." How could she say no to him? So she calmed herself down and with a few hiccups and some lingering sniffles she mustered herself up to giving him the biggest smile she could. Fred would be lying if he said that her smile didn't make him feel like he swallowed a handful of butterflies.
"Thank you Fred. I knew under that prankster exterior there was a true gentleman."
"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let it get out, okay?" He grinned at her over his shoulder as he descended the staircase.
A few weeks later found Hermione lounging in the Weasley twin's apartment above their still thriving joke shop. Fred and she had become quite the friends since the incident in the bathroom of the Burrow. Never had she thought the schoolgirl crush she had on him would resurface, but boy had she been wrong. She couldn't be happier about it though. Once again they were enjoying each other's company and a quiet night in while discussing some newer additions to the Weasley's line of products. Hermione had become something of a consultant to the twins and Fred used her help every chance he could.
"Would you like a Butterbeer?" Fred graciously threw over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen. He returned with two frosty bottles and handed one over to Hermione.
"So how are Ron and Tonya doing?" He sputtered on his Butterbeer.
"Uh, good I guess." He hadn't expected her to bring them up in conversation this soon or at all really.
"They're planning the wedding as we speak. Mum's ecstatic. Though to be honest, I'm fairly certain she wishes you were joining the family instead."
"As brilliant as that is I've just realized that I'm late for a prior engagement. I have a date tonight so I must be going." She set her barely touched Butterbeer on the coffee table and hurriedly started gathering her belongings but something on her face made Fred question the truth.
"Hermione. What's his name?"
"Huh?" She froze with one arm in her jacket sleeve and the other at her side. Coming back to Earth she mentally grasped for a name.
"Oh, uh, Christopher." She had continued bustling towards the door while slipping her other arm in her jacket when Fred jumped into her line of sight. He was blocking the door and her escape route. No matter. She had other means.
"Don't disapparate. I know you don't have a date. It's just a show. All of it."
"Well I never! Fredrick Weasley!"
"No, I know you. And I know you haven't been the same since the party." She looked dejected and she had dropped her facade the tiniest bit. He took one step towards her and the expression on her face could have fooled anyone into thinking it was a Hippogriff she was staring down.
"Hermione. Stop lying. Stop pretending." She steeled her gaze as if to prove him wrong and show him she wasn't pretending.
"You also need to stop caring about Ron. He's not worth anymore pain. He's a prat. There are plenty of men out there who would appreciate everything you are."
She scoffed at his last few words.
"I'm beginning to lose faith in that being true. Who could possibly care about me?"
"Well there's myself for one." And before she knew what hit her Fred was kissing her full on the lips with every ounce of passion in his body. He dropped his Butter beer, too consumed with the emotions swelling in his heart and as the bottle shattered into pieces so did her old life only to be replaced by something much stronger and far less fragile then glass.