Fred trudged home down the street of Diagon Alley feeling more tired than he had since the war ended. He missed the days when he could just climb upstairs to the flat above Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and collapse on the couch in front of the fire.

Two months ago, he had decided that he needed a place to be alone. He was still extremely close to George, but there were some things he wanted to ponder in private. Some things he didn't want to joke about. And heaven knew it was terribly hard to be serious around George. Therefore, Fred had found a small flat, moved his belongings into it, and begun taking advantage of the peace and quiet it provided.

On nights like this, however, when he was exhausted from a rough day at work, he couldn't help but remember how nice it had been to just walk up a flight of stairs and be home.

Fred closed his eyes briefly and let out a small sigh. In some ways the long walks home were his fault. The former occupant of his flat had placed an anti-Apparation ward on the apartment and Fred hadn't tried very hard to remove it. At first, he had liked the idea of not having to worry about George or his Mum popping in unannounced. Moreover, he enjoyed his solitary strolls between his flat and the shop. His walks had turned out to be a great way to clear his mind and daydream a bit about the future. But tonight he was so tired that he cursed his own laziness. Fred vowed to spend whatever time was necessary next week to break the bloody anti-Apparation ward.

Of course, Fred thought to himself, he wouldn't be in this position at all if the ministry would just remove the wards that had been placed throughout Diagon Alley to prevent surprise Apparations by Death Eaters. Although Voldemort had been defeated more than four months ago the wards remained throughout wizarding communities. Ministry officials insisted they were necessary in case rogue Death Eaters decided to stage some last desperate attack. Never one to embrace the old saying 'Better safe than sorry', Fred found the ministry's reasoning highly inconvenient.

As Fred neared his flat, he noticed a hooded figure sitting on the steps outside the building. There wasn't anything ominous about the figure. Nevertheless, men like Fred, men who had worked for the Order of the Phoenix and fought Voldemort's followers couldn't be too careful. Fred slowly removed his wand from his cloak and moved slightly to his left, so that he would no longer be walking directly in front of the figure. His movement, however, had apparently caught the attention of the potential Death Eater, who slowly stood up and stared directly at Fred.

Fred's eyes narrowed and his grip around his wand tightened. Without taking his eyes off the cloaked figure, he turned his body slightly so that he presented the smallest target possible for an oncoming curse. For what seemed like hours Fred and the figure on the steps stared watched each other intently, neither of them moving. Suddenly, the person on the steps began to advance. Too small to be a man, the cloaked woman began to race down the front steps of the building and head straight towards Fred. As he lifted his wand to defend himself, Fred mentally began listing the names of the female death-eaters: Bellatrix Lestrange – dead, Naricissa Malfoy - St. Mungos, Pansy Parkinson – Azkaban. As Fred prepared to utter a stunning spell, the hood of the woman rushing towards him blew back and her face was revealed.

Fred gasped in shock and his wand fell from his suddenly numb fingers.

"Fred!" the woman cried, in what sounded like a half shout and a half sob. "Fred," she repeated, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. "Say something," she panted, as her brown eyes staring up into his suddenly pale face.

Fred's eyes were huge, his brain and his body seemed to have stopped functioning. Unable to compose himself, he reached down and grabbed the woman's upper arms pushing her back a bit, but not letting go of her. His eyes scanned her face, searching for something. Finally, he shook his head – as if unable to believe what he was seeing – and whispered in a voice that did not sound normal, "Hermione."

She gave a small nod and smiled up at him, as her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly, a shout of happiness burst forth from Fred. He picked Hermione up and swung her around in circles until she cried for him to put her down. "Whatever you wish, luv," he told her, putting her down abruptly. And then, before Hermione could catch her breath, Fred dipped her back into a passionate kiss.

Fred groaned deeply as Hermione clutched his shoulders in order to keep from falling to the ground. Meanwhile, his brain went curiously blank, but he could feel his blood pulsing through his veins to the beat of "She's back, she's back, she's back." As Hermione melted into his embrace, Fred decided he would be happy standing in the middle of the road with her in his arms for at least the next decade.

Despite his feelings of satisfaction, the outside world began to intrude on Fred. It started with Hermione pushing and punching his shoulder. Next, he began to hear parts of conversations from people in the street. "Isn't that Hermione Granger?" "I thought she was in hiding?" "Who is she with? Is that a Weasley?" Finally, a sharp pinch on his arm caused Fred to lift his head.

"Ow, luv," he grumbled. "Something wrong?"

"Do you think," Hermione breathed heavily, clearly affected by Fred's kisses, but also embarrassed by the attention, "we can take this inside?"

Fred nodded, bent down to pick up his wand, and then straightened up. He glanced at crowd that had formed around them. Hermione pulled the dark hood back over her head and began walking towards his building. Fred followed her, but he walked backwards so he could also lecture the crowd. "Show's over. Time for everyone to go home. There is nothing here to see," he told them all loudly before Hermione pulled him into the small lobby of his building and shut the door to the street.

"You are completely nutters, you know," Hermione told him.

"Nutters about you," Fred laughed. He grabbed Hermione's hand, gave it a squeeze then led her upstairs to his flat on the third floor. After wordlessly uttering an unlocking spell, he ushered Hermione into his flat and found himself holding his breath for her reaction.

"Fred, it's lovely," Hermione said, pushing her hood back and looking around the small, but tidy apartment.

Fred smiled as he watched her wander through the combination living room and kitchen, lightly touching the backs of the furniture. She stopped and picked up a prototype for a new trick wand he had left on the end table. It turned into a lizard and scurried under the closet door when Hermione gave it a flick. "You must be leading a pretty boring life if you are bringing your work home," she teased.

"You have no idea, sweetheart. Sometimes, at night, I'm even forced to," he looked around guiltily as if someone might overhear him and whispered, "read."

Hermione giggled. She leaned up against the back of the couch and gave him a bright smile. "Oh poor you, reading is such a chore," she joked. "I personally try to read only when there is absolutely nothing else of interest to distract me."

"Well, Miss Granger," Fred said, taking a step towards her and running a finger lightly under her chin, "I'd be interested in doing absolutely anything to try and distract you."

Flushing slightly, Hermione gave a soft, contented sigh before responding. "I've missed you Fred."

He moved his hand up to her cheek. "It's been a long four months, Hermione."

"I'm so sorry Fred. It wasn't you I was running away from."

"I do hope that I am at least part of the reason you returned."

Hermione flashed him a huge smile, gratefully that he wasn't prodding her for explanations on why she had left. "Seeing you again was definitely at the top of my list."

"That is what I was hoping to hear," Fred grinned. He stepped even closer to Hermione, hooked his hands around her back, and then began nibbling at her neck.

Hermione made a soft sigh of contentment at the feel of Fred's lips on her skin. She let her head fall slightly to one side, so that he would have better access to her more sensitive spots.

Fred suddenly pulled back and asked, "What were the other things?"

"Huh?" Hermione replied dully. Seriously, how did he expect her to think coherently, when just moments ago his hands and lips had sent her mind spinning off in a much more sensual direction.

"What. Were. The. Other. Things. On. Your. List." Fred repeated slowly, as if talking to someone who did not understand English.

"Oh," she blinked several times, trying to focus on his words, "I promised Ron and Harry I'd come back."

"Hermione Granger made a list that only contained two items?" Fred's features took on an exaggerated expression of shock. "Are you a Death Eater just polyjuiced into the Girl-Who-Plans?"

Hermione giggled, but then began to tic-off on her fingers the other reasons she had returned. "I need to get Crookshanks and my trunk from the Burrow. I want to go up to Hogwarts and thank Professors McGonagall, Filtwick, and Vector for all their help during these last years. I wanted to look in on Hagrid, Neville, and Luna to make sure that they had recovered from the last battle. And, I need to do some research."

"Much better," Fred replied and tightened his grip around her waist. "A bloke feels much more confident being at the top of a long list, as opposed to one of just two items."

Hermione felt immediately guilty at this evidence of Fred's insecurity. Fred had always been the most confident man she knew. To see him worried about her feelings for him, made her more determined than ever to find a way to fix the situation that she had fallen into during the war and then demonstrate to Fred just how deeply she cared for him. "If there is one thing you should never be insecure about it's my feelings for you," she stated firmly, leaning into him.

"Find me right fascinating, do you?" he grinned.

"And smart, and handsome, and sexy, and funny…"

Before Hermione could finish listing his attributes, Fred caught her lips in a kiss. It was gentle at first, but quickly became something more as their tongues teased and taunted each other. Their hands quickly matched the intent of their mouths as they began to explore flesh that both had dreamed about over the last months. Abruptly Fred turned them around so that he was pressed against the back of the couch. Although Hermione did not break their kiss, she wondered, in the part of her brain that never stopped thinking, what had motivated him to switch their positions. When Fred slipped over the couches' back to land in a prone position on the seat and pulled her on top of him, however, his strategy became clear.

"Mr. Weasley," she exclaimed, pulling her head back a bit, "I'm shocked!"

Raising an eyebrow at her, Fred told her frankly, "Ms. Granger, I believe if you examine our situation a bit more closely, it will become clear that you are one laying on top of me. I am the one who should be shocked."

"Well if it makes you uncomfortable," she said, pushing up with her arms, "I'd be happy to move."

Fred locked his arms around her waist. "No chance, luv. I haven't been this comfortable since the war ended."

"Me either," she sighed, cupping his face with her hands, before leaning down and kissing him passionately. Fred responded quickly and soon the couple had begun to remove articles of clothing. The first to go was Hermione's blouse, followed by Fred's shirt, and then both of their trainers ended up on the floor. Still pressed tightly to him, when he released her bra hook, it did not immediately increase the percentage of flesh touching flesh.

Hermione, therefore, broke the kiss and shrugged her bra off onto the floor. She propped herself up with her elbows resting on Fred's chest. She watched his face, enjoying how his eyes roamed her torso. Finally he murmured, "Bloody fantastic." Shifting his weight, he tumbled her onto the seat of the couch. Now on top, he found it much easier to take her breasts in his mouth and to nip and lick at her nipples.

"Merlin, I missed this," she moaned, running her hand through his hair and down his back. She could feel his erection pressed against her thigh and wanted nothing more than to have him buried inside her. She felt his hands begin to struggle with the button and zip of her trousers and in the far back of her mind something reminded her not to let things go any further until they had talked - talked about why she had left and what she had done. The forefront of her mind, however, was screaming 'Don't Stop! Don't Stop! Don't Stop!'

When Fred sat up to pull down her trousers, Hermione spoke up. "I have something I need to tell you."

"And I want to hear it, sweetheart," he replied, kicking off his pants. "Really I do. I just want to hear it later, much, much later." He grinned widely, but something on her face made him stop. "Unless, of course, you don't want this…"

Hermione gaped; he couldn't seriously think she didn't want to be intimate with him. Sitting up as much as possible considering he was still kneeling over her legs, she clutched at his shoulders. "Listen to me Fred Weasley. Despite all my doubts and mistakes this last year, I have never doubted my desire and attraction to you. I want you – I want this desperately. I just think…"

She never got to finish her sentence because Fred pulled her onto his lap and pushed his tongue into her mouth. As his hands gripped her bum, Hermione decided that conscious be damned explanations could wait. She ground herself against him, more than ready for their last layer of clothing to be gone. Grabbing her wand, Hermione silently vanished her knickers and his boxers.

"Sweet Circe, woman," Fred gasped, pulling away from her slightly. "You're going to kill me."

"No chance in hell of that happening, Mr. Weasley," Hermione teased. "I'm just getting started with you."

Reaching down to adjust himself so that his cock was poised at her entrance, Fred looked more carefree than she had seen him since before the war. "I should probably take advantage of this opportunity to lecture you on the inappropriate use of magic and how in polite company it is considered rude to remove someone's clothes without their explicit permission, but I think I'd rather shag you instead."

Digging her nails into his shoulders as he slowly entered her, Hermione moaned. "Three Galleons says you can't coherently lecture me on etiquette while shagging."

"It's a bet," Fred whispered, before thrusting deeply into the sexy and willing witch.

The next morning, Fred was forced to slap three Galleons into her hand. "Double or nothing, luv?" he grinned, pinching her on the bum.

The End