Disclaimer: I don't own this, but it's nice of J. K. Rowling to let us play around in her world.
A/N: Please R&R, folks! Thank you for reading my first fanfic ever!
Chapter 7
After lessons during which Hermione taught Fred about jazz, blues, and rhythm and blues as pre-rock from the '30s and '40s, as well as the Great Depression, the second World War and the beginning of the Cold War, she anxiously rushed to the Room of Requirement for their lesson about the rise of rock n' roll. She was trying to get there significantly earlier than Fred. Her enthusiasm was due to the fact that her parents were huge Elvis Presley fans, and she had been listening to The King for as long as she could remember. Her parents had even told her that her first words were "hound dog".
She dashed into the Room of Requirement, pulled out several Elvis CDs from the shelves, and allowed herself a very un-Hermione-like moment, during which she hugged the discs to her chest, squealed with excitement and jumped up and down. It had been so long since she had gotten to listen to him…
"I'm sorry, I thought Hermione Granger was teaching me about Muggle music." Hermione whipped around to find Fred behind her. "But I seem to have wandered into a room with Lavender Brown," Fred finished, grinning deviously.
Hermione's mouth twisted into an angry scowl. "I'll thank you not to compare me to my bubble-headed roommate."
He shrugged. "I call it like I see it."
She put her hands on her hips. "What are you doing here so early, anyways?"
Fred shrugged again. "You mentioned last class that we'd be talking about the King this time. I didn't know what he was the King of, but he sounds important. Plus, you sounded really, really excited about it, so I figured we should be able to have a long lesson, and I shouldn't be late."
Hermione put her hands down. He's really listening, and he's early because he knew how much I was looking forward to it. Who knew Fred Weasley was so thoughtful? "Thank you," she said finally. "Let's get started."
"Let's," he responded, and plopped down on the couch.
As always, she flicked her wand, and Hermione changed her robes into clothing more appropriate of the era. While Fred seemed to get a kick out of everything she wore to teach, this outfit set him howling with laughter.
"Right, Hermione. People wore THAT. You've lost it, girl," he eventually managed to choke out.
"I assure you, Fred Weasley, that this was a very popular style for Muggles in the 1950s," she snapped, hands back on her hips.
She waited for him to settle down. When he did, he took another look at the outfit, shaking his head in disbelief. She wore strange, wide, rhinestone-detailed glasses, a short-sleeved white sweater, black-and-white shoes with white socks, and, funniest of all, a pink skirt with a poodle on it, made extremely puffy by layers of black crinoline.
"Bizarre," he muttered. He knew he was somewhat exaggerating his amusement in order to hide the fact that he could not help but notice how well-fitted the tight white sweater was, showing off curves he never knew Hermione had. Finding hilarity in her ensemble would give him excuses to keep looking at her.
"Ho, ho, funny boy," Hermione said, through gritted teeth, "are you done?"
Fred nodded, still – subtly, he hoped – glancing at her sweater.
"I'm going to be breaking up the '50s into more than one lesson, because today is going to be all about the King of Rock n' Roll, Elvis Presley."
"I think I may have heard of the bloke," Fred interjected.
"He's a very, very famous Muggle. I wouldn't be surprised if you have." She delved into the history of Elvis, from his childhood to his rise to fame, from his decline in popularity to his comeback, from his later years to his tragic end. As she knew his story so well, she didn't even need to refer to any of the books on the shelves. Fred listened, interested in the story, but also in the dreamy look in Hermione's eyes as she spoke of him. He couldn't ascertain why seeing her so excited about someone else made him feel a slight twinge that he didn't recognize.
After a very enthusiastic lecture, Hermione turned on the music. After the first few songs, Fred admitted to himself that this Elvis guy made a very good listen. He was enjoying the songs, when he suddenly noticed that Hermione, sitting in the chair across from him, was acting very twitchy and jittery. He'd never seen her like this before. "Something wrong, 'Mione?" he asked.
At that, she jumped out of her seat, startling him. "I'm sorry, Fred." And she walked over to the other end of the couch he was sitting on, and started pushing it so the couch would face the wall.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Fred was bewildered by her odd behaviour.
"I'm sorry, Fred," she repeated, grunting with the strain of moving the couch while he remained seated in it. "I have never gone this long listening to Elvis without dancing before. I have to, have to, have to dance. But I can't with you watching me. So you," she continued, giving the couch the last push it needed, "are going to sit facing the wall, and I am going to dance. I swear I'll hex you so badly you won't know what hit you if you even think about turning around."
It was rare that Fred found himself being the more exasperated of the two of them. There's a first for everything, he thought. "Whatever you say, mon capitan," and he gave her a mock-salute.
He could hear her feet shuffling on the circle of hardwood floor behind him. He patiently listened to "Let Me Be Your Teddy Bear", "Hound Dog", and "C. C. Rider", keeping his back facing her, but eventually his curiosity grew to the point that he had to turn around during "Burning Love".
She wasn't even facing him, she was turned the other way. Fred couldn't help but smile at the sight; he doubted anyone ever had seen Hermione cut loose like this. She was all right, but not a very talented dancer, certainly not as good as he was. However, she more than made up for her lack of finesse with her fervour.
Suddenly she turned around, and her face turned red. "You weren't supposed to look!"
"You're very entertaining," he insisted, still grinning at her.
"Turn back around," she commanded, and he did as was told.
He resisted temptation to turn around until slow songs started. The curiosity to know how she was dancing to the slow music was unbearable. He turned again, during "I Want You, I Need You, I Love You", and let out a snort when he saw Hermione dancing with her arms held in front of her, looking as though an imaginary partner was joining her for the dance. Her head snapped around with the sound.
"FRED! What did I tell you?" she shouted angrily.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. But," and he hopped over the back of the couch, "that's no way to enjoy a dance." He strode over to the dance floor and took her hand, and put his other hand around her waist.
"What are you doing?" she said suspiciously.
"Dancing," he answered. "Trust me, it's better with a partner. And I think that someone who appreciates the King as much as you do should enjoy dancing to his music to the fullest extent possible."
"Oh," she replied, relaxing a little. He was right. This is nice, she thought. He's very light on his feet. "Thank you," she said aloud, automatically moving in a little closer to him. "You can keep dancing. If you want," she added when the next song began.
"Thank you," he responded. "I think I will."
