A/N: I can't believe how many people have reviewed or put this story on alert! Thank you so much; I love you all! And now, without further ado…

Chapter 3

"Would you two like anything? Tea? Coffee?" Hermione offered as soon as they walked through the door.

"Tea's fine," said George, at the same time that Fred cried "Ooh, coffee! Marvelous, that stuff is!"

Hermione went to the kitchen, filled the kettle and coffee pot with water and began to heat them up as the twins sat down on the couch. "If you say so, Yoda," she called back.

"Umm… what?" came Fred's voice.

"Little green… alien… thing… It's a muggle thing. From a movie."

"Ooh, I like movies!" Fred yelled.

"What's an alien?" George asked.

Hermione sighed, leaning against the counter, and stared at the cupboard opposite her as if she would find an explanation written in the grain of the wood. It was difficult sometimes, to find a middle ground between her two worlds. "It's… hard to explain… I'd have to show you, I suppose."

"The movie?" Fred asked hopefully. She heard the couch squeak a few times – trust Fred to be bouncing up and down in his seat like a child. She had shown them their first movie, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, a few weeks ago and they had been immediately fascinated by the muggle invention. Harry had a television also, but no VCR.

Hermione smiled as the kettle began to whistle. She poured the three cups and brought them out to the living room. "Sure, I think I have it somewhere around here. If we start in now, it should be over by… around… eleven? Or twelve? Hmm…" she mused, handing the twins their mugs. They nodded in thanks. "Maybe we should watch it another time…"

Fred waved away her words impatiently. "It's the weekend! Live a little! It's not like we have anywhere to be."

"Oh damn," George spluttered, coughing on the tea he had just swallowed. "I forgot! I told Angie I'd go over to her place for a few hours right after dinner to help her pack for her trip. The Arrows are going to a training clinic in France for three days." He took another large swig of tea, wincing slightly as the hot liquid hit the back of his throat. "Looks like you two are on your own for the movie. Are you staying, Freddie?"

Fred frowned. "You sure you don't mind missing the movie?"

A fleeting look of disappointment crossed George's face, but he shrugged. "I can always see it later, right, Hermione?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course," she agreed quickly.

"Do you mind if I stay?" Fred asked, looking torn.

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not. I don't have any big plans. Ginny and I were just going to have a movie night. I'd be glad for the company, to be honest."

"Right, well that's settled. You can't leave now even if you wanted to, mate. It's your duty to keep her company," George said, not quite making sense, still drinking his tea as quickly as possible without causing serious damage to his tongue.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure." He shot Hermione a look along the lines of 'Where is this bloke's mind right now?'

George took one last sip of his tea and got to his feet, shrugging his coat back on. "Oh yeah, before I forget." He pulled out a few galleons and sickles from his pocket and held them out to Hermione. "For dinner."

Hermione nodded. It had become their custom for Hermione to pay for dinners when they ate out in muggle London, and for them to pay her back for their share in wizard money later. He handed her the money and pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks again for the tea, Hermione," he said, releasing her and making his way towards the door, pausing momentarily to playfully shove his brother's shoulder. "See you back at the flat, Fred."

"Hah. Yeah right. See you around ten in the morning, more like it."

"Don't I wish, little brother. But no, unfortunately the fair lady is leaving tomorrow morning, so I'll probably be back around midnight. Goodnight, you lot."

Hermione wished him goodbye as Fred shouted "Oi, I'm older than you by seven minutes!" A small pop sounded from out in the hall, signaling George's departure.

"And then there were two… Sit down, Hermione; it's your flat for Merlin's sake."

Hermione smiled and set her mug down on the coffee table. "In a minute. I'm going to set up the movie."

"Um… Hermione?" Fred called after her.

She turned to face him, surprised by his anxious expression.

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Um… Would you-… Do you-… Is it okay if we- ...um… Don't watch the movie?"

Hermione's brow furrowed further in confusion. "Sure… That's fine. We don't have to watch it tonight… I thought you loved movies, though."

"I do!" he insisted. "It's just… uh… I feel weird watching a new movie without George being here," he finished in a rush, smiling sheepishly up at her.

She smiled slightly, trying not to notice how adorable he looked sitting on the couch, grinning up at her so innocently. She nearly scoffed out loud – Fred Weasley? Innocent? – but realized just in time that that would quite possibly be the worst thing to do at the moment, when he was looking so… She didn't know what exactly. Insecure. The look was foreign to her on Fred's normally cheerful, confident face. She smiled a bit wider, desperate to put him at ease and bring back the happy grin. "Okay," she nodded, "I understand."

And she did. Fred and George had always done everything together. Even now, though they had grown older and more independent, they did not like to do anything new or important without their twin. She should have known that a movie would fall under this category in a Weasley mind.

"Well, I-"

"No, Fred, really. I understand. I do. It's fine."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," she said. "What would you like to do instead, then?"

He considered for a moment, then smiled brightly. "Can we watch the VT?"

"TV?" she asked, amused. Between her television and Harry's, the Weasleys could not get enough. "Sure. I think… What time is it? Perfect."

"What?"

"There's a Muggle program starting in a bit that I think you'll love," she said, crossing the room to the television and grabbing for the remote.

She was in the process of fiddling with the buttons, intent on the screen, when the sudden, firm pressure of two large hands on either side of her waist caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. She shrieked and reached for her wand, but her attacker was quicker than her, and grasped her wrist firmly in one large hand. She struggled, kicking and writhing, but the assailant only held her tighter, pulling her in closer to his body.

"Oi!" cried the attacker. "Shh… It's me, Hermione. It's me, Fred. Fred Weasley. It's alright."

She stopped struggling and turned slowly in his arms, standing stiffly, still on alert. "F-Fred?"

She stared up into his green eyes, filled with concern. He slowly released her wrist and brought a hand up to smooth her hair back. "Yes, it's me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

He pulled her tight to him, wrapping his arms around her, rubbing small circles on her back. They stood in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the television, turned down low. Hermione let herself enjoy his warmth, his comforting embrace, letting go of the last bits of fear, anger quickly taking its place.

Without warning, she put her hands against his chest and shoved him away from her. "Alfred Weasley!" she screeched. He stumbled back, looking shocked. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"What? I-"

"Coming up behind me? Putting your hands on my waist?"

"Hermione, I-"

"What were you thinking?"

"I-"

"Explain yourself!"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO, YOU MAD WOMAN?" he roared, breathing hard.

She blinked in surprise at the red face, the flailing arms, the wild look in his eyes, and nodded stiffly. "I'm sorry. Continue."

He took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just going to pull you down to sit on the couch with me. You haven't sat down once since we got here. I swear that's all I was going to do. Just… You know, grab you and throw you, like we used to do when we were younger, at the Burrow. I just meant to surprise you, not scare you."

There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, Hermione grudgingly admitted to herself. She took a deep breath, feeling her anger dissipate, leaving her feeling absolutely humiliated.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

She buried her head in her hands and groaned in embarrassment. "No, Fred. I'm sorry. I – I totally overreacted."

"No, it's-"

"It's just… That bloody war!" she cried, flinging herself down on the couch.

Fred hesitated, opening and shutting his mouth, not sure if he should speak. He decided against speaking, but sat down next to her, hoping it would prompt her to speak.

"It messed me up, Fred. I'm not the same anymore."

"…So?"

"So? SO? What do you mean, 'so?'"

"Calm down, Hermione. You're being melodramatic and it doesn't suit you."

If she hadn't been so shocked, she probably would have hexed him. "Melodr-"

"Yes. You think you're the only one who is messed up because of the war? Seriously? Well you're not," he snapped in a harsh tone she had never heard from him before. She blinked in astonishment, not able to speak. "Do you know how many people died?" he demanded. "Do you really? Everywhere in the world? How many lives were changed? It's a given of war, Hermione. You aren't special."

Hermione swelled with anger, memories flooding back to her. The battle, Godric's Hollow… Malfoy Manor… Fred didn't know any of it; he didn't know what he was talking about! But as soon as it came, the anger was gone. He was right. His words stung like a slap to the face, but they were true. She wasn't special. She was just like all the rest. They had all been through the same thing; they had all been hurt. They all had scars. Hell, Fred had nearly died, for Merlin's sake. She was being stupid. Stupid and selfish.

"I – I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to say that… It came out all wrong. I-"

"No," she whispered, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out. "You're right. Absolutely right."

"Herm-"

"It's fine." She gave him a small smile and nodded. "Really, it is. I'm sorry. I overreacted. It's just… I spent so many months on high alert when I was with Harry and Ron… And… Well, I guess I never went off. When people come up on me suddenly or grab me when I'm not expecting it… It's like I'm back at the battle, back on the run. I'm trying to get over it, really I am, it's just… hard," she finished, staring down at her hands, feeling ashamed. She felt so weak.

Fred pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay," he said as he released her. "I understand. Really."

She nodded gratefully.

"Now, let's just pretend for now that all that didn't happen, yeah?"

She nodded again and reached for her coffee. Thankfully, it was still hot.

"Yeah. The program I was telling you about should be on any moment now."

"What is it?" he asked, grabbing his coffee mug and taking a swig as he settled into the other side of the couch, putting a respectable distance between them now that the soul baring was through.

"It's…" Her face fell slightly. How was she going to explain this one? "Um… It's an American program. It takes place in New York… You've heard of that, right?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "I'm a wizard, not a flubberworm."

"Just making sure," she said, raising her hands in mock defense. "It's basically about a group of friends that live in New York. But…"

"But what?"

"Well… It's a muggle program. Completely muggle… I'm not sure if you'll like it at all. I don't know if you'll get all the jokes…" She bit her lip, feeling unsure.

Fred laughed. Actually laughed at her. Ignoring Hermione's glare, he said, "I'm sure it will be fine. In any case, a TB program I don't understand is better than no TB program at all. These muggles are ingenious…"

"Right… Well just remember, they can't do-"

"Magic. Yeah, I know. That happens to be the definition of a muggle, in fact."

Hermione raised an eyebrow challengingly, but he just laughed.

The familiar theme song began to play and Hermione turned up the volume. "Ooh, it's on!"

They settled back against the cushions to watch.

Hermione wasn't really watching. Her mind was still too preoccupied with other thoughts. Fred, it seemed, was having the time of his life, muggle references be damned.

"That was brilliant!" Fred cried as the credits rolled thirty minutes later.

"You liked it?" she asked.

"It was great! Bloody hilarious! Did you see the part with the chair?"

"I take it you understood the jokes then?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "Enough, at least. Is that on every night?"

"No, just once a week, usually. It's not all that reliable though. The show comes from America, and the television has enchantments and things to allow it to work in the wizarding world, but sometimes things get scrambled up. The technology is rather new."

Fred nodded, staring at the screen, muttering something that sounded like a repetition of "Brilliant. Brilliant, these muggles."

Hermione untucked her legs from under her and got to her feet, stretching her stiff muscles. "You want anything? Tea? More coffee?" she asked, gathering their mugs and making her way towards the kitchen.

"Um…"

"Since when are you shy? I'm going to make myself some tea. What would you like?"

"Tea, please, then."

Hermione bustled around the kitchen, putting the water on the stove and preparing the tea bags, humming softly to herself. The water boiled quickly and she poured the cups, adding some milk and sugar to Fred's, and some lemon and honey to hers. Making a split decision, she grabbed some biscuits out of the cupboard and brought everything back to the living room.

She stopped dead in the doorway.

Fred was lounging on the couch where she had left him, reading her book. "Fred!" she shrieked.

He looked up calmly. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Reading."

She gaped at him, horrified, at a loss for words.

"Thanks for the tea, Hermione. Cream and sugar?"

She stared at him for a moment, processing.

He smirked. "Well, feel free to sit down any time you're ready. I would suggest closing your mouth sooner rather than later though, before a pixie flies in."

Hermione shut her mouth, momentarily distracted by her confusion. "A… pixie?"

Fred nodded. "It's a wizard thing. Or, at least, a Weasley thing. Mum used to say that to us when we were younger. Are you planning on sitting any time soon or can I… what did you call it the other day? Sprall out?"

"I'm… I'm sitting," she said, crossing to the couch and perching awkwardly on the edge.

He reached over and took the tea from her hand, eyes back on the book. "Thanks."

"Can I have my book back?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'm enjoying it," he said absently. "Can I have a biscuit?"

"Fred, you can't read my book!"

"Really? 'Suzanne gasped as the blacksmith's delightfully callused hands ghosted over her bare flesh. She moaned as he kneaded her supple-'"

"FRED!" she yelped, blushing profusely. The words sounded completely different coming from his mouth.

"See? I can read it just fine," he winked.

She gulped, shifting uncomfortably. "Fred-"

"Hermione, what's the big deal? It's a book. What? Afraid I'll be corrupted?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I - … No…"

"Good. Anyways, I'm incorruptible," he said with a wink, plucking a biscuit out of her hand and munching on it.

She pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"Unlike you, apparently," he smirked.

She glared at him, snatching another stolen biscuit back out of his hand and stuffing it in her mouth. "You had to go there."

"Oi! That was mine!"

"Turnabout's fair play."

"Slytherin."

"Biscuitnapper."

He grabbed another biscuit out of her hand. "Just living up to my name." He blinked innocently at her indignant face.

"You're incorrigible."

"And you're easily annoyed." He gave her a winning grin.

She huffed, all comebacks disappearing from her mind with that one quirk of his full lips. Damn Fred Weasley and his charming ways, she thought.

They sat in silence for a moment as Fred read – to Hermione's humiliation – and Hermione sipped her tea, feeling unbelievably awkward.

Fred Weasley. In her flat. Reading. Her romance novel.

Then he laughed. She stared at him in disbelief – what was there to laugh at in an erotic novel? "Oh, this is terrible…" he muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"This is so unrealistic! I mean, really? Who does that?"

"What?" she demanded.

"Any of this! Even the realistic things… Merlin, this book is terrible. Please tell me you haven't been reading these as textbooks."

She said nothing.

"Hermione?" he asked, sounding part apprehensive, part amused.

She sipped her tea, avoiding his eye.

"You haven't," he breathed, gaping at her. "Oh, Merlin, no wonder you have problems with this." He laughed, earning him another glare from Hermione.

"It's not funny!"

"Yes it is! Hermione Granger, reading a romantic novel to learn sex tips! And here I was thinking you were just trying to get off!"

"You crude little- … You crass- I don't even have a word for you!" she cried, jumping to her feet and throwing a pillow at his head with as much force as she could muster. He batted it away easily, to her annoyance, and it fell back to the couch, looking innocent as ever.

"Just making an observation," he said calmly. "But, really? Of all the ways to learn-"

"Well how would you suggest I learn, then, if I'm so stupid?"

"Hey, I never called you stupid," he said, suddenly serious. "But, seeing as you asked, just about anything would be better than this book."

"Such as?"

"Another, non-awful erotic book? Something informative?"

"Don't you think I've tried that?"

"Then why not – heaven forbid – ask somebody?"

"A-Ask somebody?" she spluttered. "What? Hey, Molly, can I talk to you? Yeah, that will go over nicely for all involved."

Speaking slowly, as if talking to a three-year-old, he said "Not my mum. Sheesh. Here I was thinking you were intelligent. Don't you have friends? Ask them!"

"Like who?"

"That one bird… What was her name… Your old roommate… The psychotic one… Lavender! She would probably write you a whole guide book if you asked her to. The twins… Podma and Pavrati… They'd probably give you some tips."

"Padma and Parvati, you mean?"

"Yeah, sure, them. Luna… well, I wouldn't go asking her; she probably gets up to all sorts of weird things in the bedroom, not exactly trustworthy for a mainstream testimony. And, if worse comes to worst - As much as it disgusts me - I suppose there's always Ginny."

"Hmm… I suppose… But no. Lavender, Parvati, and Padma would give me far too much information – I'd never be able to look some of my coworkers in the eye again. I've never been able to see Anthony Goldstein the same after they all gave me their different accounts of that… Honestly, all three within one week… The slime ball." Fred gave a low whistle, which Hermione ignored. "Luna is… Luna. And I really don't want the visual of Harry doing anything even remotely… like that."

"Like what?" he asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"You know what."

"No, I'm sorry, I can't say that I do." He leaned back, putting his feet on the coffee table, ankles crossed, and stretched his hands dramatically up and behind his head, the picture of confident relaxation.

"Fred, stop being obtusely obstinate."

"Ah, big words." He winked. Adopting an airy, innocent tone, he said, "I'm sorry Hermione, but I simply don't know what you could possibly be referring to."

"Fred-" she sighed, sounding dangerously close to a whine.

"I'm afraid you may just have to say it, Hermione. Spell it out, so to speak. I'm terribly – what was it? – obtuse, you see."

She glared at his self-satisfied expression.

"You don't want the visual of Harry doing anything remotely – what?" he prompted, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Fred-"

"Come on, Granger. It's just a word."

"Oh, so you do know what I mean."

"Ah, ah, now, I just pointed out the obvious. It had to be either a word or a phrase. Though I'm completely and utterly clueless as to what that word or phrase may be."

"You're incorrigible."

"So you've told me. Come now, Granger, enlighten me! No visuals of Harry doing anything…"

"Sexual," she mouthed, blushing furiously, not meeting his eyes.

"Beg pardon?"

She repeated herself a bit louder through gritted teeth, wishing she could smack the smirk right off his face.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I thought it was George who had the bad ear," she said venomously.

"Well, you know what they say about twins," he said with a wink. Hermione wondered vindictively how many more winks his eye could take before it fell out. She'd make it possible. "Twins are connected in many ways. Now if you could say it just one more time? I am an old man, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "You just turned twenty-two."

"Precisely. Now, as you were saying? You don't want to visualize Harry doing anything…"

"Sexual!" she shouted. "There! Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Wonder what the neighbors are thinking now. Nice of you to inform them of our topic of conversation."

"I hope a gnome bites you in the ankle."

"Hmm, violent. Never thought you were into that type of thing."

She grabbed a pillow and walloped him with all her might. He threw the pillow away from himself and winked cheekily. "My, Granger, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Shut it."

"Fine then," he said, laughing lightly and getting to his feet. "I suppose it's about time I headed home anyways. Thanks for everything. Kung Pao is delicious."

She blinked, surprised by the quick end to their banter.

"You're…welcome…?" she said, though it came out like a question. She stood as he shrugged on his coat and pulled her in for a goodbye hug.

He made his way to the door, but stopped, hand on the handle. He turned to face her and ran a hand through his red hair. "Uh… Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Ron's a git…"

"…Alright…"

"What I mean to say is… Don't let him do anything you don't want to do… And stop reading that trash. It'll be okay. It's not as bad as you think it is… Quite the opposite, actually."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he threw yet another wink in her direction. "Just when I thought you were being a mature, considerate human being."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that, Granger?" he grinned. "But really. If you need anything… Anyone to… talk to… I am here… And I promise not to take the mickey out of you too badly."

"Erm, thanks, Fred," she muttered, feeling confused. Since when did Fred offer to talk about important issues? Since today, apparently, a small voice pointed out in the back of her mind, reminding her of the recent events of the evening.

He nodded, smiling semi-awkwardly, and pulled her into another hug. "Anytime. Goodnight."

She stared up at him, still feeling slightly dazed by his sudden shift in attitude. "Night," she managed to whisper as he pulled away and opened the door. There was a small pop as he apparated away, and the door swung shut behind him.

A/N: Twelve pages! WHOO! I technically could have drawn this chapter out longer as well, but A) It's twelve pages already, and B) I wanted to put this up before I leave for Disneyland . Soo… Sewing the seeds for later plotlines. How do you feel about this chapter? Leave a review and tell me what you loved, what you hated, what you didn't understand, what you think I should consider, what you had for breakfast, etc. Oh! And be sure to check out the poll on my profile – A chapter in Fred's POV – yay or nay? Let me know what you think