Hermione looked out the window of Fred and George's bedroom at the Burrow. She and Ginny were sharing the room since Mrs. Weasley had given up her room to Fleur Delacour—or Flem, as Ginny called her. From this vantage point, Hermione could see the garden that was chock full of gnomes, the chicken coup where Mr. Weasley hid his more questionable Muggle finds from Mrs. Weasley, and the broomstick shed that housed a half dozen old, rickety broomsticks that the Weasley children somehow managed to keep functional enough to play aggressive games of quidditch. She relished the familiar sights and the few comforts she had left.
Soon Hermione, Harry, and Ron would set of off in search of Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes instead of completing their last year at Hogwarts. What's more, she had modified her parents memories after spending her first few weeks of the summer with them. She then apparated to the Burrow and decided that tears were of no use to her. Her parents were safe and blissfully ignorant in Australia, and she was surrounded by friends that were as good as family to her. Still, an empty feeling crept over her. Maybe it was because she was alone at the Burrow just then, which was a very rare occurrence for anyone at the Weasley home. Mrs. Weasley had demanded that everyone accompany her and Fleur to the various wedding vendors and stores on their numerous lists of wedding tasks to be done. Hermione, having just arrived, was able to stay back and rest.
The other Weasleys, accompanied by future Weasley, Fleur, departed by floo ten minutes ago and weren't expected back for several hours. She had the entire place to herself and her thoughts, though she found herself drawn to gaze out the window. Perhaps this is what adults had always meant when they said they needed time to decompress.
"Hermione?" came a familiar voice followed by a creek of the bedroom door. Hermione jumped, even though she knew the speaker immediately. A little rush of heat permeated her body.
"Fred!" She tried to sound cheerful, but she knew her voice was too hollow.
"You all right?" Fred asked her. His tone was relaxed, but his eyes were searching her face. Hermione smiled at him.
"Yes, yes, just not used to being on my own, I guess."
"I know exactly what you mean. George is at the store, by the way." Hermione was looking over his shoulder as if expecting the other Weasley twin to pop in at any moment. "I just came by to grab a few things from the room. We keep a lot of our test products hidden in here, lest they fall into the wrong hands." Fred winked at her. "Don't tell Ron that, though!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," chucked Hermione. Silence lapsed between them, and Fred stared at her with a question hovering behind his eyes. Hermione figured he was debating whether or not to press her further about her obviously sullen mood. She wouldn't mind telling Fred about it, even though she hadn't yet told Ginny or Ron, or of course Harry who wouldn't even arrive for a couple more weeks. Fred grinned broadly, coming to a decision.
"Hermione, you are in for a treat," he announced. "I know exactly what you need right now. A stiff drink and some good company." He waived his wand, and a bottle of firewhiskey with two glasses came zooming into the room and crashed onto his nightstand. "As it just so happens," he continued, "I am excellent company."
He sat down on his bed, poured out two small glasses—more in his glass than hers—and held one out to Hermione.
"Come on," he said as she stood unmoving by the window. "It's enough to warm that cute nose of yours, but not enough to get you hammered." He winked at her again.
"Oh, okay, give it here," Hermione said as she crossed the room, took the glass, and sat down on the bed next to Fred.
"To good spirits!" Fred tapped his glass against Hermione's and took a healthy swig. Hermione sipped from her glass, and a flaming heat tingled its way down her throat. She felt a knot in one of her shoulders start to relax.
"Now, tell me what that prat of a brother of mine did this time." Fred said with a crooked smile. Fred and George to most people were an inseparable pair, but Hermione saw them differently. This was not the first time that Hermione and Fred had found themselves chatting together apart from everyone else. Over the years, the two somehow managed to both be in the same place at the same time whenever they needed it most. They didn't necessarily talk for long periods of time when they chanced upon each other alone, but it was enough for Hermione to feel utterly comfortable with Fred.
"Oh, don't be silly," she waved her had at the notion of Ron causing her mood. Ron could certainly piss her off, but his antics never induced this variant of sullen. "Ron hasn't done anything, and at any rate I've only just arrived."
"Ah, and Mum's got you locked up in our old room already?"
"Sort of. I think Ginny mostly hides up here to get away from Fleur and your mum. They've basically taken over the house." A knowing look filled Fred's eyes, and he nodded solemnly. Fleur and Mrs. Weasley had been at each other's throats in the most passive aggressively polite ways possible for weeks.
"I'm actually surprised they're both still alive," Fred remarked. "What's giving you a long face if it isn't Ron, then? Can't be just Flem. You sure it's not a little lovers' spat?"
Hermione's eyes widened, then she burst out laughing. "Ron isn't my lover!" she shrieked.
"What?" Hermione could've sworn Fred's eyes lit up a smidge. "You're not an item? In that case, George owes me five galleons."
"You put a bet on us!?" Hermione exclaimed.
"Of course! And don't worry, I never thought you'd stoop that low. I've got more faith in you than that." He doffed an imaginary hat in her direction.
"You know, there are times I wonder if Ron is wanting more, but I just don't feel anything there. I used to think I might, but in the end I think I was just lonely." Fred grinned and nodded, as if to say 'I knew it!' Hermione took another sip of the burning liquor and rolled it over her tongue. She needed to be honest with Fred, with someone, she knew. "My parents," she said at last. Realization flooded Fred's face and posture. He knew exactly what Hermione's plans were to protect her parents. It was the last thing they talked about before the summer holiday began.
He leaned toward Hermione ever so slightly. "You did it, then?"
Hermione nodded once.
"Right," he said, pouring a bit more firewiskey into both of their glasses. "Let's do something ridiculous and stupid, and forget all about the real world for a bit. Any suggestions?" He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but grin back. Fred's smile was infectious.
"Isn't George waiting on you?" she asked trying to be responsible, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed her.
"Nah, he'll be fine on his own for a while. Plus, he knew coming here might mean getting roped into wedding chores. Only reason I'm here instead of him is cause I drew the short wand." They both laughed.
"Well then, what do you suggest, my Master of Fun?"
Fred put a finger to his lips, scanning around the room, then looking Hermione up and down.
"Squib Match," he decided, and accioed a deck of wizard cards. Squib Match was children's game almost exactly like the Muggle game Go Fish, except you held more cards in your hand to start and played with wizard cards, which randomly altered themselves causing potentially fantastic or disastrous results if your hand changed itself at just the right time.
Hermione laughed at this. "All right, Squib Match it is." She hopped up on the bed and sat cross legged at one end, drink in her lap and waiting for Fred to deal.
"Ah, ah, ah!" he tutted at her. "I wasn't done yet. Squib Match where you have to take off a piece of clothing with each Squib guess."
Hermione's heart leapt into her throat, and Fred gave her an appropriately Fred-like wicked smile. Truth be told, Hermione had no problems telling Fred and George apart. Looking at Fred made her whole body tingle, whereas looking at George gave her the same warm feeling she might get when looking at Harry or Ginny—tingle-free. It may have been the firewiskey talking, but Hermione found herself saying, "You're on!" She knew she wasn't drunk, but a new sense of courage had washed over her. Maybe this was just her normal Gryffindor courage, and she was putting too much stock in the supposed effects of alcohol. Either way, she didn't care.
Fred's smile faltered a tiny bit, then recovered, and he dealt out their hands.
"Ladies first," he beamed with mock politeness.
"Fours," Hermione said, and Fred immediately handed her a card. Hermione laid them down in front of her, and tapped the cards twice.
"Kings," Fred guessed and lost himself a sock.
"Fives," Hermione earned another pair.
"Twos," Fred won his first pair.
In five minutes, they were both sockless, Hermione had discarded a hair tie and her jumper, and Fred was naked to the waste.
"Sevens," Hermione guessed, and Fred's eyes darkened.
"Squib," he said heavily, and the air between them thickened. A Jack wiggled in Hermione's hand and transformed into a Queen. Hermione was in quite the predicament. She hadn't worn a belt that day, so she had to either lose her shirt or her pants. She took a good swig of firewiskey, relishing the warmth that flushed to her cheeks, set down her hand of wizard cards, and whisked her shirt over her head before her mind was able to start thinking. Fred's eyes raked over her body, and he licked his lips lightly. Hermione picked up her cards again, and stared at Fred patiently. She tried to keep her expression cool and collected even though her mind was exploding with uncertainty. 'Keep it together,' she told herself.
Fred kept drinking in her skin with his gaze. "Like something you see?" she asked him with a playful smile. She didn't know what changed at that exact moment, but looking at him devouring her with his eyes, her head was suddenly clear and her fear was gone. Instead, a twinge of excitement and anticipation welled up inside of her.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Fred as he licked his lips again. "My turn again?" she asked, her voice dancing. "Sevens," she whispered huskily. Without waiting for his reply, she laid down her cards and unhooked the back of her bra, but didn't pull the straps off of her shoulders. The fabric loosened around her breasts, and she looked up at Fred through her long, dark lashes, waiting. Something in him finally snapped, and he scooped the cars off the bed as he moved closer to her. Experimentally, he ran his fingertips up her left arm until they slipped under the loose strap on her shoulder. He did the same with his other hand, then slowly drew her bra down her arms and tossed it lightly on the floor.
Hermione's breasts were firm and supple, and her small, pink nipples were hard and attentive. Fred cupped one breast with his palm and wrapped his other hand around the small of her back, scooting her closer to him. His hand left her breast, and his fingertips slid slowly up her sternum and neck to trace lightly over her cheek. Then, he closed his eyes and touched his lips to hers. The touch was so delicate, so hesitant, that she barely felt it, but it still sent shivers down her spine. Fred, with his arm wrapped around her, could feel the shutter as well. His eyes darkened another shade, and his lips now kissed her firmly.
Hermione responded with urgent kisses of her own and tracked her fingers up his firm chest. She snaked her fingers through his hair and held his face closer to hers. In an instant, their kisses turned fierce, and Hermione wrapped her legs around Fred, scooting into his lap and pressing their bare chests together. She felt his hard length press up against her, and shivers ran up her body. His tongue darted into her mouth, and Hermione's mind filled with pleasure. She let their tongues meet again and again, stroking flecks of lightning through her core. His touch, like his tongue, was delicate but confident. She could tell he was keeping his control for her benefit, not wanting to assume or press her too far. He couldn't possibly know that she was his already. She hadn't even known for herself until their lips met.
Fred's hands were running up and down her back, and then she felt soft kisses pressed down the side of her neck, leaving scorch marks in their wake. He bit down lightly in the crook of her neck, and his grip tightened as Hermione's whole body trembled. He eased up and ran his hands up her soft stomach to caress her breasts with his long, slender fingers. A sigh escaped Hermione's lips as his fingers played lightly with her nipples. Fred sponged kisses down her chest and took one of her nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the hard tip, and Hermione felt her muscles under her core clench with pleasure. Her head tilted back, and she moaned as she tightened her grip around his shoulders.
Still teasing her nipple with his tongue, Fred reached down between them and pressed his fingertips in between her legs. She had dressed for comfort today, and he was able to find her firm bud quickly through her soft leggings. His middle fingertip traced small circles over her bud, and spasms of pleasure shot through Hermione's chest and legs. She spread her legs apart more, giving him better access to her clit. She clawed at his back and was suddenly desperate to rip off his jeans. As if he sensed her thoughts, he lifted her easily and laid her on her back. His jeans were off in a flash, and Hermione began pulling off her leggings. Fred whisked them over the last bit of her calves and ankles and discarded them where they fell at the end of his bed.
With heaving chests, they both paused to enjoy the sight of each other's nearly naked form. Fred's eyes held an intensity that Hermione had never seen before, which turned her on even more, if that were possible. His long, lean muscles were taught with anticipation, and his long, hard cock was bulging tight against his knickers. Hermione was overcome with the urge to wrap her fingers and her lips around it. Fred traced his hands up her shapely legs. He paused to dig his thumbs into the gaps between her thighs and hips causing Hermione's mind to explode and her body to writhe against him. He continued up the sides of her flat stomach and paused playfully at the sides of her breasts.
Her breath was hot and heavy as she reached for him, but his lips were already crashing onto hers. They were gone before she could register the change, and his hands were again tweaking her nipples and massaging the firm peaks of her breasts. Suddenly, his hands were tracing down her stomach and his tongue and teeth were raking her nipples in turn. Hermione didn't think it possible to feel so good, and she relished each movement with utter delight. Fred kept moving down her body, causing continually new and incredible sensations. He was trailing kisses and small bites down her stomach and sides when his fingers hooked the top of her knickers and slowly slid them down her legs. She kicked them off without a thought, as Fred's tongue darted over her abdomen. His fingers touched her soft, wet sex, and he let out a hot moan against her skin. He slid two long fingers into her slowly, tantalizingly, and his thumb met her clit again and again as he slipped farther in and back out. Hermione gripped the bedsheets and held back a scream, then his teeth grazed one nipple again while Fred's free hand worked the other, and she was crying out his name. He kept pace with his hand, quickening as he felt Hermione grind her hips more and more urgently. He trailed bites up her neck and flicked his tongue into her ear.
"You are so fucking incredible," he whispered, and Hermione let her mind slip into bliss. An intense wave of electricity rocked her whole body and exploded out of her. She lost track of everything and had no idea that she'd slammed her body against Fred's, clenched her teeth into his shoulder as her fingernails dug into his back, or that she'd let out a muffled scream of ecstasy against his skin. Fred's cock hardened impossibly in response to her, and when she relaxed her grip on him after several long moments, he slid his fingers out of her and held her close, arms wrapped around her protectively. He kissed her with a fire built of his love and affection, and poured all of his emotion into her through it. To his absolute wonder, he felt Hermione respond in kind.
Hermione's brain began to wake up in new and exciting ways. She slid her hands down the smooth skin of Fred's quidditch-toned chest and pulled down the tops of his knickers. He was so hard that they got stuck on his length, but Fred slipped them off quickly. He pressed his hips forward, and his hard tip slipped through her wetness, but didn't enter her yet. He kissed her deeply as he teased her clit and the soft folds of her sex with his tip and length, and they both moaned into each other's mouth.
Hermione pulled back, knowing she'd need to keep her focus if she wanted to have her way with him. She rolled over, pushing him firmly down onto his back. She kissed him once, biting at his lip while gripping his girth in her hand and pumping him up and down. She felt the muscles in his body contract and heard his silent moan. He tangled his fingers into the curls of her hair with one hand while the other played with her breasts. She suppressed the blossoms of pleasure that his touch created, and focused entirely on him instead. Hermione slid her way down his body, letting her clit press experimentally on different places as she trailed her way down. On impulse, she took Fred's cock between her breasts and he immediately pressed them together, wedging his hardness between them. She bounced up and down while caressing his balls, letting the pressure of her breasts bring him closer and closer to bursting. Fred's head rolled back, lost in his own pleasure though his grip on her tits stayed.
After giving him a few more pumps with her firm breasts, thrilling at the unexpected way her nipples bounced against his fingers, she took his hands and slid each of his fingers in and out of her mouth, one at a time. She took her time, flicking her tongue occasionally, all the while giving his length firm but slow caresses with her free hand. When the last pinky slid off her tongue, she locked eyes with him and lowered her mouth to his throbbing cock. She licked the tip and the shaft, tasting each glorious inch of him. Her tongue flicked over his tip in delicious swirls, and Fred closed his eyes and moned in ecstasy, but Hermione persisted, taking all of him in her mouth again and again until he pulled her away, ready to explode.
Fred flipped her onto her back and spread her legs. Apparently, he wanted to return the favor in kind. He raised an eyebrow at her, then he licked light lines and swirls on her inner thigh with his tongue. Hermione bit her lip with anticipation. Finally, when Hermione thought she might scream from frustration, she felt Fred's wet, warm tongue circle her clit. He licked and sucked her hard spot again and again and again, then dipped his tongue into her opening before returning to her bud and repeating. Her thighs shook as she lost all control, and Fred slipped a single finger inside her as his tongue continued. She climaxed over and over under the magic of his tongue, and when she could take no more, she pulled him up and kissed him deeply. They both tasted like sex, making Hermione moan once more into his mouth.
Fred flipped them again in the bed and let Hermione straddle him. He held his member steady for her, and when she was ready, she lowered herself onto his tip. She toyed with it inside her, letting the tip slip in and out, in and out. Fred kept his hips still and let her lead with full control of the motion while he played with her nipples and ran his hands over every inch of her chest and back. Soon, she was taking his full length inside her, and he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing himself to hold back for her. Her moans were becoming more persistent, and he allowed his hips to thrust up in perfect opposition to her until she screamed out his name over and over and was falling around him in a tumble of soft skin and curls.
Fred eased Hermione back down onto the mattress and kissed her until she had regained control. Then he slid his still throbbing length slowly inside her, and she began to moan again. He continued in and out slowly, tweaking a nipple with one hand, then gradually increased his pace. He thrust deeper and deeper, and Hermione rocked her hips against him and pulled him deeper still with each thrust. His pace quickened to until he was slamming into her repeatedly as she screamed out again in climax, but he held on a moment longer, lengthening her orgasm past what she thought she could physically and mentally handle. Finally, he brought himself to his own release, moaning her name with inexplicable pleasure. They collapsed in each other's arms, and the beautiful scent of her filled his lungs. Her breathing was still erratic, and when he lightly touched her bud again, she called out with delight, and her body quaked with her orgasmic aftershocks until she closed her legs, completely spent.
The two lovers held each other in silence, their eyes closed and foreheads resting together, and neither one daring to move and break this magical spell. After what could've been minutes or hours, Hermione broke the silence.
"Fred—"
"Don't," he interrupted her. She looked at him with her beautiful, brown eyes. "Hermione, I know what's going to happen. I know you're leaving with Harry. I know it's a war you have to help stop."
"I'm so sorry, Fred."
"Don't be. I knew this before, just like I know if this continues, I'll fall hopelessly for you."
She kissed him, tears threatening to prickle her eyes and escape.
"If, when the war is over, we are meant to be, we will be," he said simply.
"Thank you," was all Hermione could manage to say, but there was no need to say more. They each knew exactly how the other felt, because it was a mirror of what was in their own hearts. They held each other a while longer, then suddenly heard a distinct WHOOSH followed by a crash coming from the kitchen.
"They're home!" Hermione hissed in horror. They frantically accioed their clothes and dressed. Fred flicked his wand, and the glasses, bottle of firewhiskey, and wizard cards disappeared. He kissed Hermione quickly, winked, and turned on the spot. He was gone with a loud pop just moments before the door opened, and Ginny stomped in.
"If I have to be around them for a second longer, I'll die from choking on phlegm." Ginny ground her teeth and scowled as she collapsed on George's bed. "What did you do while we were away? Whatever it was, it had to be better than my lot."
"I just napped and read a little," Hermione lied smoothly, focusing on keeping a huge grin from stealing over her face. Ginny eyed her friend for a minute, then shrugged.
"Well, don't get used to it. The wedding chores are about to go into full swing. Trust me, a waking nightmare is coming."
"I know," Hermione whispered as the blood drained from her face.
A/N: This OneShot makes me both happy and sad because of the way Fred was ripped from our lives. I've been considering exploring the interactions they may have had before his early and untimely death. Heightening the tragedy of his loss is a poignant and heavy topic, and I somewhat shy away from beginning a work that has no choice but to carry the immense weight of the future. I ask myself, can I truly write about Fred fighting with the resistance, spreading joy and light when surrounded by darkness, and planning for a future I know won't come? Though this is written mostly following Hermione, I wrote this as a small test to see if I should dive in deeper. If you've taken the time to read this short piece, I thank you!
***Update: A longer story is clearly in the works! Stay tuned, and thank you for the feedback and reviews! Sorry that right now it's a bit disjointed. More chapters will come before and after this one.***
