Dusk fell over London and the moon was slowly becoming visible over the busy city.

Fred Weasly walked into the kitchen; he'd just gotten off of work. His white button up shirt was partially unbuttoned and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table reading a cookbook; she was waving her wand and muttering spells as food items flew their way into a pot on the stove. Fred smiled at the sight.

"I'm home" He said simply walking over to the table and sitting next to Hermione.

She looked at his disheveled hair and appearance and butterflies blossomed in her stomach.

"Hi" She said smiling, butterflies felt as if they were flying up into her throat when she tried to speak.

"What's for dinner?" Fred asked grabbing the Daily Prophet off of the table and opening it.

"A new type of—" Hermione squinted at the text book still propped up in front of her "— stew I suppose. . ." She said still looking at the book.

"It's supposed to taste like anything you desire, but I'm not sure I'm making it right, it's rather difficult." She said looked at Fred. He smiled.

"There's nothing you can't do, dear." He got up and kissed her hair before walking out of the kitchen, but stopping to glance into the pot, and out of the room.

Hermione slouched back in her chair, the butterflies fading ever so slowly. For the past week all she wanted was Fred, she contemplated maybe he slipped her a love potion, but she wasn't all over and obsessed with him. Then she thought maybe he'd made some kind of lusting sweet; that thought lingered but eventually faded also. Hermione looked one last time at the cookbook before closing it and using her wand to have it fly across the room and place itself on the bookshelf. She got up and walked over to the stove on which the stew had been brewing. She looked at the brownish color and waved her wand again, clearing it away completely.

Hermione decided to just make roast beef sandwiches', hoping Fred wouldn't mind. She conjured up two sandwiches' and placed them on the dining table in the other room before heading upstairs also.

"Fred dinner's ready—" She said entering her bedroom, Fred's shirt had come completely unbuttoned and he was running a hand through his messy red hair infront of the mirror when Hermione entered.

"Thanks' love, are we still having the stew?" He asked walking over to her.

Um— no roast beef sandwiches." Hermione said, Fred leaned in and kissed her florescent red cheek before walking past her and heading down the stairs. Hermione got herself together momentarily before walking over to the mirror Fred had just been looking in.

Her hair was slightly disheveled and her cheeks red, what was wrong with her? She asked herself in her head, she saw the confused expression appear on her face in the mirror. This was not like the Hermione Granger she knew. She took a deep breath and walked away from the mirror, she stayed upstairs until she was sure that the blush had faded an her insides were butterfly free before going downstairs and joining Fred for dinner.

The two ate dinner in silence, Fred seemed curious at Hermione's lack of talking but he quickly got over it.

Hermione changed into her nightgown and lay on the four-poster bed in her and Fred's bedroom. She was supposedly very intently reading a book while Fred got changed, but the only reason the book was in her face was because her blush was so vibrant it itself was making her face turn redder.

Fred climbed into bed with Hermione and put his arm around her. She put down her book and leaned her head on his shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't see her blush. But her hopes were slightly to high.

"My, my, Hermione are you blushing?" Fred said looking down at her, he moved away the hair that she had willingly made fall in her face.

"No." She said simply looking up at him, hoping the blush had faded.

"Yes you are, your cheeks are the color of my hair 'Mione." Fred said, a smile creeping on his perfect lips.

She made the hair fall back in her face by bowing her head but Fred lifted her chin and cleared her hair from her face once again.

"It's okay, love." He leant down and kissed her lightly on the lips, she could taste the minty-cinnamon flavor of his lips and her blush started all over again. Fred laughed lightly and then kissed her hair.

"I love you Hermione" He said. Hermione smiled and leaned into his shoulder again.

Fred soon fell asleep, his breath tickling Hermione's ear. She lay awake not being able to fall asleep; her stomach kept turning at the thought of the man lying next to her, the tall, handsome, sweet, redheaded man.

The next morning Hermione awoke to the scent of French toast drifting up into the bedroom from the kitchen. She was tangled in the eggshell-white sheets and she felt tired, but restless.

She detangled herself from the sheets and went downstairs into the kitchen to find Fred cooking breakfast the muggle way on the stove. He didn't have a shirt on and he had on red plaid pajama pants. Hermione's heart did another flutter. She and Fred have been dating for a year; they lived together and have had sex once. And she never felt like this towards him, she was most definitely in love with him but he never made her feel so un-Hermione like.

"Morning, love." Fred said flipping the French toast. Hermione smiled, butterflies still present in her stomach, and went over to the table where a cup of coffee was already awaiting her.

"Good morning." Hermione said, she opened the Daily Prophet and taking a sip of her coffee. Fred flipped four pieces of French toast on two plates, and walked them over to Hermione.

"Eat up." He said placing one plate in front of her and one in front of him, she stared into his deep brown eyes for a minute before quickly taking another sup of her coffee then began to eat.

Fred looked at her peculiarly, then started eating his French toast, stealing a glance at Hermione every few minutes until they'd both finished with their breakfast.

Fred had to go off to work, and Hermione gave him a kiss goodbye, the same minty-cinnamon cent lingered on her lips for as long as she could remember, and the longer the taste lingered the longer the butterflies did too.

When Fred came home hours later Hermione noticed he once again had his tie around his shoulders, but this time he was wearing a black button up shirt that was still all intact.

Hermione stared at him for a minute before realizing what she was doing.

"Hermione, what's for dinner?" Fred asked looking around, Hermione jumped a little at the sound of Fred's voice, and he noticed.

"Um—" Hermione had forgotten to prepare something before she got home.

"Forget that, Hermione what's wrong?" Fred asked coming over to her at the table.

"Nothing" She said quickly, she got up just as Fred approached the table and he grabbed her in his arms and pulled her into him.

"Something's wrong. . . But I can't put my finger on it. You're not sad. . . You're nervous." Fred said moving both of them over to the couch and sitting Hermione down.

"Why are you nervous?" He asked. Hermione decided she might as well tell the truth.

"Ever since we— we— had sex—" Hermione blushed furiously at the word sex, "You just give me butterflies and make me nervous, I don't know why."

Fred laughed.

"Hermione, you are too cute." Fred said kissing her on the lips. She smiled, realizing he understood.

Later that night Hermione and Fred were cuddling in bed, and Hermione still felt the butterflies, but she grew a liking to them.

"Butterflies?" Fred asked her gently when he realized she'd tried to hide her face in his shoulder blade.

"Yeah." Hermione replied.

"Oh god I love you Hermione" Fred said laughing slightly. She blushed even more and he held her closer to him.

Hermione eventually fell asleep, learning to get used to the butterflies that flew around in her stomach at Fred's touch. And the minute before she fell asleep, she knew, deep down in her heart, she was in love with him and they would most definitely spend the rest of their lives together.