Chapter two

Fred jerked awake. Glancing at his watch, he cursed mentally as he realised he still had a good four hours before he actually needed to get up. He sat up and rubbed his eyes wearily, wondering why he had woken up so suddenly.

The diary (well, it wasn't a diary, but Fred preferred to call it that) had fell onto his thighs when he moved. He hadn't managed to read another entry; he was so tired from thinking up ways to humiliate Hermione that he'd promptly fell asleep after considering whether he should read her entries out loud, just as he did for his story about Snape and McGonagall. Fortunately for her, Fred was very creative and hated doing the same thing twice. Pity, it was the best plan he'd come up with so far.

Fred stretched and stood up, pouring himself a glass of water. Careful to not wake up the others in the room, he tiptoed down the stairs and into the common room, carrying the book with him.

The common room was deserted, as he had expected at this time in the morning. The candles were all unlit, and the only source of light came from the dim, flickering fire. He gulped down the water, stretched himself comfortably in the armchair in front of the fireplace (coincidentally the very same armchair in which Hermione's wand was stuck in) and opened up the book.

"Fred!"

He was so startled he splashed the water all down his front. "H-hermione?" he spluttered, quickly stuffing the book down the armchair. It seemed, at least for Fred, that the armchair was the perfect spot to hide things.

"Why are you up so early?"

Fred noticed, with a growing sense of horror, that she was about to join his company. "The same reason why you are," he answered. He tried not to glance at the back of his armchair. "Studying."

"Of course," Hermione said sarcastically, "you're up studying. You have water all over yourself by the way. You really should dry your clothes before you get a cold or something," she said calmly, sitting down on a couch right beside his. "Normally I'd help you, but I still haven't found my wand yet."

Fred gave her his best sympathising (but totally fake) smile, "still wandless, huh?"

"Yes. I have a nagging suspicion that it's in here somewhere, but I've combed the entire place and, zilch, nothing."

Again Fred forced himself to look everywhere except at the armchair. He normally felt no regrets about his pranks, because it really was hilarious and satisfying when people act all paranoid. Of course, he always gave them back whatever it was he'd taken, with a bit of a grin and a smooth line to soothe his victims' temper.

But ever since reading that cruel (but, unfortunately, blatantly true) account about Harry, he was quite afraid as to what she might do to him. Docking off house points, he could take. Merlin, even if she got him in detention that required washing Snape's hair for a week (the hair oil! The slimy head lice!), he wouldn't be so frightened. But Hermione had admitted that she wouldn't have cared whether Harry died or not. Harry, her best friend! The person she's been through thick and thin with!

Unbelievable.

"Fred, I really think you should visit the Hospital Wing. You're eyes are glazing over and you're sweating a lot."

"Oh, I'm not sick," Fred said. Just terrified. Are you waiting for me to be killed too?

He dried himself by muttering a quick charm, before settling back down onto the guilty armchair. He refused to meet her eye. It was decided: he will definitely expose her as the murderous maniac she really was.

Silence stretched out between them as Hermione continued looking at him with a thoughtful expression on her face. Fred just simply didn't want to look or talk to her. He was beginning to wish he'd never even stole that diary in the first place, then he wouldn't have any qualms about using her as a test case for that new blemish amplifying cream he and George were inventing (its purpose was that if you wanted to avoid a particular amorous stalker, you can apply the cream on your face and gross them out).

"I'm going to bed," Hermione finally said, "good night, Fred. I hope you're not thinking about using students as experiment cases again."

Can she read minds too?

He watched her retreating form until it disappeared into the darkness before allowing himself a small shiver.

The next time he woke up (he wasn't even aware he'd fallen asleep again), the sun was shining and he was late for breakfast. Now that the common room was no longer shady (but was still deserted), Fred laughed at his own stupidity and cowardice.

Hermione Granger, a murderous maniac? What nonsense. She was nothing more than a very cynical girl who enjoyed making up less-than-satisfactory comments about her friends. Wasn't there that common muggle saying- something about words not being able to break bones? Hermione was certainly not able to break his bones.

But he knew that her words were beginning to have an effect on him, even if he didn't want to admit it. Fred kept replaying the bit about Harry being grossly unattractive, how he was moody and extremely dependant on his friends all throughout classes that day. He'd always known his brother's friend as that famous-guy-who-doesn't-act-famous, just like he's always thought Hermione might have a secret obsession for cross-dressing.

Without realising what he was doing, Fred began to stalk Harry. He watched him talk with Ron and Hermione, (noticing the way Harry's fist clenched whenever talk turned to prefect duties- hmm, interesting) he watched how the girls reacted around him (giggles, a lot of nudging and knowing glances, but always from a far) and saw how Hermione ended up rewriting Harry's homework for him, while he propped his feet up and struck up a conversation with Ron. Fred also saw the way Harry stuttered around Cho, and yet was completely oblivious to Ginny's affections.

Fred was beginning to be seriously annoyed; Hermione was absolutely right- Harry was a spoiled, violent, and dense boy who was incapable of independence and thought.

His constant glances and outright stares at Harry, of course, were not missed by George, who was beginning to question his twin's gender preference.

"Fred, how about we exchange the pumpkin juice at dinner? You know, try out our new hair potion," George suggested when he caught Fred looking at Harry for the fourth time.

"Pumpkin juice? Sure, love some," Fred responded, snapping back to reality. "Get yourself some too."

"Seriously, what is up with you? Don't tell me Madam Pince hexed you at detention today," George asked, torn between anxiety and annoyance.

"No, she didn't, why?"

"Because you keep looking at Harry- dear god, don't tell you fancy the poor guy!"

"Of course not!" Fred exclaimed indignantly. "But don't you notice the way he's drooling over Chang even though he has a perfectly good admirer by his side?"

"You mean Ginny?" George looked thoughtful. Then he grinned. "I know where this is heading now…"

"I reckon, George, that as her older brothers, we ought to help her out."

"Why, Fred, of course. It is our duty after all. What did you have in mind?"

"Perhaps… a little interrogation might be in hand?"

"A bit unconventional, but there's always a first. Somewhere nice and public perhaps?"

"You mean like the common room?"

"What a grand idea!"

So, sporting identical evil grins, the twins causally stood up from their chairs and sauntered over to Harry.

In one fluid movement, the twins shoved Harry's feet off the table and sat down in front of him, staring at Harry's bewildered face. Fred noticed how Hermione stopped writing Harry's essay and was watching them with a small smile on her face.

"Er, hi," Harry said nervously, exchanging confused glances with Ron.

"Hi there Harry," George said cheerfully.

"We've been quite concerned about your welfare this year," Fred joined in.

"What? Why? I'm fine-"

"Really?" Fred patted Harry on the shoulder sympathetically, "we know, man, how it feels."

"How what feels?"

"You've been placed under a lot of pressure, you know, all this expectation of beating the evilest wizard and all. We just want you to know that George and I have got your back." Leave this to me, Fred said to George without speaking. George gave him a small nod.

"Er, thanks?"

"You're welcome. We also feel left out too, so don't worry, you're not alone."

"Left out?"

"Why yes! Hermione and Ronnie-ickins here are prefects, while you and I are just ordinary students. A bit sad, isn't it, the way things turn out. I've always thought that you should've got the badge instead of Ron. No offense, little bro," Fred added to Ron, whose ears were turning red.

"I don't actually mind," Harry said nervously.

"You don't have to lie to us, Harry. I told you, we've got your backs. We know how it feels. Our entire family are prefects, but George and I aren't. Believe me when I say we understand the pain that you're going through."

"But-"

"And I'm sorry about before, Harry."

"Sorry? For what?" Fred stopped Harry from edging away by grasping him firmly by the arm.

"You know, for excluding you. You must have felt lonely and sad and depressed when you didn't receive many letters from us. I'm sure Ron and Hermione told you we were ordered to, metaphorically speaking, throw a sack over your head." Fred glanced at Hermione when he said that, hoping she'd recognise it. Unfortunately she'd grown tired of the exchange and returned to marking Harry's essay. Damn.

"They did tell me. I don't mind-"

"-Nonsense! But it wasn't a great way to start off the year was it, Harry? I mean, you've had a dreadful year so far, what with Umbridge, the not-getting-the-badge thing, being isolated from everybody else, not to mention Cho's still hung up about dear old Cedric-"

"-What does Cho have anything-"

Fred leaned closer to him so that only Harry, Ron and Hermione could hear him. "I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, my good boy. I suggest asking her to take a photo with you." Fred stole another glance at Hermione, who was still busily scribbling on that wretched parchment. But, he noticed triumphantly, there was a small pink tinge on her cheeks- success!

"Photo? How does that help things?" Suddenly Ron decided to join in the conversation too.

"Photos are wondrous things, little Ronnie-ickins. They help, ah, see whether two people look good together. You know how physical attractiveness is important to girls these days; they need reassurance so they don't melt into a pool of self pity."

This was fun, watching Hermione cringe every time she recognised a part from her analysis. The added bonus too, was being able to berate Harry. Nobody messes with his little sister. Nobody.

"But enough about girls- tell me Harry, how did you manage to find out what was petrifying everybody? How did you brew the polyjuice potion? How did you come up with the whole plan at all? I mean, all these accomplishments at the young age of twelve- what a genius! You deserve to get all the glory!"

"-I'm going to bed," Hermione abruptly announced, getting up. "Goodnight everyone."

Fred enjoyed the way she avoided looking at him. This was definitely better than reading her diary out loud in the Great Hall, because then everybody would laugh about it, talk about her for a couple of weeks, and then promptly forget about the whole incident (like what happened to Snape and McGonagall). However, by leaving subtle hints about him reading her diary, he was able to see her squirm in embarrassment. She couldn't say anything because that would be admitting that she was the one who wrote all those things about Harry. And he got the satisfaction of having the upper hand. Fred silently awarded himself a medal for this plan- it was definitely the subtlest plan he'd ever come up with, but by Merlin, the reward was so satisfactory.

Unexpectedly, Hermione had brought out a side of him he never knew- he really and truly enjoyed the whole interrogation thing. Maybe instead of opening up a joke shop, he should go and work in Azkaban- you know, interrogate the Dementors about their fear of happiness. That might be fun.

Fred watch Hermione bite her lip and glance anxiously at him as she walked by. He gave her a small wink. "Found your wand yet?"

"No, I haven't. Have you found yours?"

"I've got my wand-" Fred felt around in his pockets. "Hey, I've lost it!"

"Goodnight Fred." She gave him a small smile and left.

Fred stared at her retreating form, silently seething.

Patient Number Two: Ronald Bilius Weasley

Problems:

Apart from his outrageously bright hair and unfortunate complexion, there really are no other things that I can compliment him about. His personality, for one, is hideous, his habits are absurd, and, quite frankly, I wonder if he even possesses a brain. It is one of my dearest wishes to grab a scalpel and examine him under the microscope- how can a person who is so profoundly dumb, manage to survive so long? How bottomless is his stomach anyway? How many chews and bites does he have left until his jaw unhinges? That boy is a medical miracle.

I'm quite concerned about his lack of vocabulary as well. It seems like the only words he knows are "Blimey," "Bloody hell" and "Dunno"- yet he insists on laughing at Crabbe and Goyle's intelligence or lack thereof. If I wasn't so nice, I would've laughed at the irony. But I guess, like Patient No. one, excuses must be made on account of his upbringing. Having an enormous amount of siblings before him, Ron has an annoying habit of comparing himself to those around him. Unfortunately, it does nothing for his self confidence-especially when compared to me.

It is also absolutely annoying how Harry considers Ron his best friend, and yet, when things become difficult, he comes running to me. It seems-at least to Harry- that Ron is the better friend. I beg to differ. The only thing Ron is good at is his irritating ability to make jokes at the wrong time, and to provide utterly useless advice. But considering the type of person Harry is, I'm not surprised he considers Ron his best friend. Harry's famousness must provide some sort of compensation for Ron's anonymity.

Speaking of which, how did Ron get the prefect badge? Wonders may never cease to amaze me. I mean, I would have questioned McGonagall's ability to make decisions, but seeing as she chose me as the other prefect, she must have a functioning brain. Or maybe it was just a lapse of judgement; after all, the woman is getting old.

Furthermore on this subject, Ron is the most insufferable, incapable prefect I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He is a cowardly and stupid boy who pretends to be otherwise. This is quite sad, as everybody knows he's too scared to tell off his own brothers. He must feel quite inferior in his abnormally large family, being the youngest boy, and must also feel so frustrated that the only sibling who is younger than him is a girl, and therefore his mother's favourite. After all, it's not like he has any accomplishments he can boast about- other than being the stupidest one in the family, that is.

It is also funny how oblivious he is- does he not realise Lavender Brown fancies him? Considering she only speaks about wanting to snog him at every possible moment, and a lot of the time in front of him, I'm astounded at how deaf and blind he is. Doesn't he know that they'll make such a great couple? Unlike Cho and Harry, these two are made for each other. They have the same irritating and insensitive personality, they adopt the same annoying tone when they talk, and, as a bonus, they even have an IQ equivalent to each other! That truly is a miracle, considering how low Ron's is.

Recommended Courses of Action:

-Hand himself over to me so I can examine him under the microscope (I'll have to kill him in the process, but he really isn't sacrificing much- I can already foresee that his future will be horrible at the best.)

-Persuade Molly and Arthur to give him up for adoption. (One less son to humiliate them).

-Tell Ron to get a sex change, that way Molly will like him too.

-Send him on a blind date with Lavender so they can ruin each other's lives.

Fred was so absorbed into the book, that he didn't realise Hermione was descending the stairs into the common room. It seemed like the girl never slept; it was now four thirty in the morning (Fred wanted to read in peace), and yet, like yesterday, she was here, prepared to bother the hell out of him.

"What are you reading?" Her soft voice cut through the silence like an axe hacking down the whomping willow.

Fred jumped- spilling the glass of water he'd brought down. "Studying," he said unconvincingly. "Why are you up so early?"

Hermione settled herself onto the same chair she'd occupied the morning before. "Couldn't sleep- still haven't found my wand. Have you?"

"Yes- it's in your room." Hah! Take that!

Hermione blinked. "No it isn't- what makes you think I took it? Stealing is against the rules."

Fred scowled, "I know you have it. Hand it over."

"Not until you give me mine back- I know you stole it."

He didn't even try to deny it. "How'd you know?"

"The stick that you thoughtfully provided as a replacement had your initials on it," she held it up so that he could see for himself.

"Well, I like to get some sort of recognition for all my troubles," he gave her a wink, at the same time he tucked the book under the cushion. "Did you like my gift?"

"Don't bother trying to charm me, Fred Weasley," Hermione snapped, "Where is it?"

Fred tilted his head to one side, "where is what?"

"My. Diary." She managed to spit out. "I had it in the library. I know it was you who set the Monster Book on me."

"I don't know anything about a diary, Hermione, truly." It isn't a diary, he thought in a sing-song voice, you said so yourself!

"Then what was it that you were reading?" Hermione looked accusingly at the cushion.

"A file," Fred replied, liking the way her face was all scrunched up. She was the only girl he knew who could pull off the 'I'm-totally-pissed' look.

"File?"

"Well, more like a Critic's analysis of their patients."

Hermione froze. "Oh. Well, that's not my…. Diary," she said calmly, but Fred saw the way she clenched her fists. And the way her pinks were red. And how her voice had a slight tremble to it.

Wow, Fred thought, I'm impressed- who knew I was observant?

"Funny- it had your name on it," He wondered how far he could push her.

Hermione bit on her lip. "Can you please… not tell anyone about this?" She begged. Her brown eyes gazed up into his own blue ones, sending shivers down his spine. Fred tried to look away, but he found he couldn't- were those hazel flecks in her eyes? How very… attractive. He didn't realise before that her eyelashes were so long, or that her eyes were so alluring…

Hermione? Attractive? Hah. As if. She's just got good eyes, that's all.

Fred blinked and cleared his throat. That was better. He wondered what spell Hermione had cast on him to make him feel like that. She really was one sneaky witch.

"What's in it for me?" Back to business, Fred scolded himself.

Suddenly, those eyes that were so innocent before flashed and gave him a murderous stare. "Forget it," Hermione said coldly, getting up from the chair, "I wasn't affected by what that Skeeter cow wrote about me last year, what makes you think I'll be affected by this? I wrote it after all, and you and I know both know I only write the truth."

"Hermione-"

"-Good night, Fred. I hope you enjoy invading in other people's privacy."

She didn't slam the door to the girl's dormitories, but he wish she had. He'd almost prefer it to the way she'd looked at him with so much hatred in her eyes.

He took out the book from behind the cushion, but found that he couldn't make himself read another entry. He sat there, looking at the orange flames licking the logs, wondering what was it that made him want Hermione's forgiveness so badly.

Thanks to all of you that reviewed! You guys made my day :)

As I said in the last chapter, this was intended to be a one-shot, but then it somehow turned into a longer fic. Stories are funny that way- if they don't want to end early, they don't.

Anyway, I originally also didn't want this to be a romantic fic, as I'm all for dramione, but I've giving it a try.

Be warned though: this is the first time ever I've written about a romance occuring between Fred and Hermione- I've never even read a fanfic regarding these two. So sometimes Fred and Hermione might seem OOC, or somehow they just suddenly fall in love, I'm trying not to let this happen though. So please bear with me and feel free to give me some advice.

Please continue to read and review!