The Unforgivable Curses

The next two days passed without much happening, other than Hermione continuing to switch back and forth between who she sat with at breakfast. If Ron or Harry found it odd, they kept it to themselves.

Perhaps they had gotten used to sharing.

Ginny had taken over Hermione's seat in the morning, sitting between Harry and her group of friends.

Hermione was tactful enough not to say anything to the blushing Boy-Who-Lived…yet.

She was rushing to Defense Against the Dark Arts, not surprised that she was the last one there. Her research was very important though, and she wasn't late, so stressing was pointless.

That's what she forced herself to believe, anyway.

"Been in the –"

"Library," Harry cut her off. She scowled at him. "Come on, we want good seats don't we?"

She, Harry, and Ron hurried into three seats right in front of the teacher's desk, taking out their books along with the rest of the class. And then it was silent, as they waited for Professor Moody.

When he finally did enter, he surprised them all by telling them to put their books away. After an outburst from Ron and a scolding for Lavender (which Hermione found more amusing than she probably should have), they got started with the lesson.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Hermione was trembling slightly as they walked out of Moody's classroom. The Cruciatus Curse, the sight of the spider withering on the desk, brought her back to the Quidditch World Cup, and the sight of the poor Muggles, helpless at the hands of the Death Eaters.

And Neville, poor Neville, looking so lost and broken that it nearly tore her heart in two…she couldn't understand for the life of her what had brought on his reaction.

She knew that she never wanted to see him go through that again.

Of course, the lesson wasn't over yet. For the first time in her life, Hermione had refused to answer a question. She had shaken her head violently, keeping her mouth shut and trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill when Moody asked her for the third Unforgivable Curse.

Avada Kedavra wasn't something you talked about in school. Not ever.

Poor Harry.

Hermione suddenly felt like her friends were falling apart around her.

The thought make her shake harder as she walked down the steps to the Great Hall with Ron and Harry.

She suddenly had to urge the boys to move faster, moving quickly to Neville, who was staring pensively out one of the windows at the rain outside.

"Are you alright, Neville?" she asked softly.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, yes? I wonder what's for dinner. I'm s-starving, aren't you?"

"Neville…"

"I'm fine, fine Hermione. Very interesting dinner…I mean lesson. What's for eating?"

Hermione didn't know what to say to make the situation, but Moody had the impeccable timing to come and lead Neville away to his office.

Hermione felt nauseous, no longer very hungry, as they walked into the Great Hall.

"Hello Mi'," she heard Fred's familiar voice call as the redheaded boy tossed a casual arm around her shoulders. She gave no response, merely continued to walk towards the Gryffindor table, until Fred stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.

"Coming from Moody's class?" he guessed softly. She nodded, and Fred pulled her into a hug. George also stopped, nearly passing by them as he walked with their friends to the table.

"What's wrong?" he asked, obviously concerned. Fred gave him the quick answer, and George gave Hermione a hug as well, kissing the top of her head as well.

Fred, not to be upstaged, kissed her cheek and led her over to the table for dinner. The boys took the time to shovel food onto her plate, and made sure she ate every single bite before heading off to the library.

"I'm worried about her," Fred said, stabbing half-heartedly at his roast beef.

"She cares almost too much," George stated, and Fred had to agree as he watched Hermione slip through the doors out of the Great Hall.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Hermione loved the library. Everybody knew that.

But they didn't really know why.

Sure, she loved the books. What bookworm didn't feel a little high among a collection this vast?

What she really loved about the library was the peace.

There was nothing Hermione loved more than her friends; Harry and Ron, the twins, even her roommates to an extent. There was one thing they all shared; they were loud.

Sometimes, it was nice to have some quiet time to think.

Hermione dutifully worked on her project, trying to keep her mind blank of all other thoughts.

Unfortunately, a certain ginger kept popping in uninvited.

Hermione Granger was not a liar. She made sure of it. Even when she stretched the truth a bit, it was still the truth.

So why was she trying so hard to lie to herself.

She was falling for Fred Weasley, and she didn't like it one bit.

Well, maybe a little.

No Hermione, be strong. It doesn't matter that he's funny…and sweet…and quite adorable actually.

Grumbling under her breath, Hermione pushed her hair out of her face and got to work.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Where is she?" Fred asked, glancing at the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Common Room for the twentieth time that night. George groaned for the twenty first time, grabbing one of the throw pillows off the couch and tossing it at his twin's head.

"Will you shut up? Where do you think Hermione is?"

The door swung open, and Fred immediately sat up in his seat. "Coming in now," he answered.

"Forge, really, now you're hallucinating? Obviously Hermione is –"

"Hello boys."

"Right behind me," George finished, spinning around to smile at Hermione.

"Talking about me again George? I thought we've been over this…I'm just not into you that way."

George held a hand to his heart. "Oh Hermione, what that does to my fragile heart? How will I ever get over you?"

"You could try asking Angelina out," Hermione giggled, sitting next to Fred on the loveseat, setting the box and sheaf of parchment she had come in with on her lap.

Inwardly, Fred was doing the conga, thanking Merlin that he had chosen to sit in the loveseat.

Ignoring George's spluttering and denial, Fred turned to Hermione, a bit taken aback (but nearly ecstatic) when he realized their faces were mere inches from each other.

"What's in the box Mi'?" he asked cheerfully.

Smiling widely at being asked, Hermione lifted the cover off the box, revealing about fifty badges of different colors, all bearing the same four letter: S.P.E.W.

"What's spew?" George asked, looking over Fred's shoulder. His face was still a little red, and Fred had to give Hermione credit on her quick response to George's teasing.

"It's not spew," Hermione said indigently. "It's S.P.E.W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't, as I've just founded it," Hermione said proudly. "I'm going to start recruiting members, two Sickles per badge, going towards our leaflet fund. I'll need a secretary, and a treasurer, but I doubt that will be too hard…"

George was trying very hard not to laugh, Fred could tell. He kind of wanted to laugh to, if he was being completely honest, but the look on Hermione's face had him digging into the pockets of his robes instead. After a few moments he pulled a few coins out, sorted through them, and dropped four Sickles into Hermione's box, then chose two orange badges, pinning one to both his and George's robes.

Hermione was beaming.

"Oh thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. The hug lasted a little longer than necessary, and they broke away, both red in the face, pointedly ignore the satisfied smirk on George's.

"Hedwig!"

Hermione turned to see Harry jumping up to the window, where Hedwig was indeed waiting with a letter tied to her ankle. Harry was waving her over to read the letter with him and Ron.

"I'll be right back," Hermione said with an apologetic smile, hurrying over to join Harry and Ron.

George looked at his twin knowingly. "You're whipped mate."

"Shut it," Fred said weakly, smiling all the same.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"He's flying north? He's coming back?" Hermione whispered.

"What signs?" Ron asked.

Harry crumpled up the note, obviously angry. "I shouldn't have told him," he hissed. "Now he thinks that he's got to come back because I'm in trouble, when I'm fine."

"Mate, calm down," Ron warned him lightly.

"He's going to get caught because of me! And I haven't got anything for you!" Harry snapped suddenly at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly. "If you want food you'll have to get it from the Owlery."

Hedwig flew off with an offended look, hitting Harry on the head with her outstretched wing as she headed out the open window.

"Harry…" Hermione began hesitantly, hoping to calm him down.

"I'm going to bed," he snapped, heading up the stairs to his dorm, Ron at his heels.

Visibly upset, Hermione went back over to where Fred and George were sitting. She sat back down on the loveseat next to Fred, looking dejected and hurt. George yawned widely, excusing himself for the night after giving the top of Hermione's bushy hair a kiss.

Fred wrapped his arms tightly around Hermione, whose head fell onto his shoulder.

"Harry doesn't know how lucky he is," he told her softly. "Having a friend like you isn't something he should be taking for granted."

"Thank you, Fred," Hermione whispered. She gave a tired shudder, extracting herself gently from his grip.

"I think I'll head upstairs for bed," she told him. He gave her one more hug, kissing her forehead lightly, and watching her walk up the stairs to her dormitory.

Then he sank back down onto the couch, mid-epiphany.

He had fallen head over arse for Hermione 'Bookworm' Granger.

"Bugger."

So sorry loves. I know I said this would be up Tuesday, but I got sick, and then I had work yesterday, but it's here now!

I cannot tell you how much I adore this chapter. It was so much fun to write.

Now, important important question for all my lovely readers. As you have probably guessed, the Yule Ball is fast(ish) approaching. I need to know what you guys want, because I can't make up my mind.

Does Fred ask Hermione to the ball, or does he steal her away from Krum every other dance?

We're probably about two weeks away from that chapter, so you have time (and other chapters) to comment and let me know which version you guys want to read. I need to know before it's time to write it, because I need to plan the rest of the story accordingly.

Okay, extremely long author's note over. Don't forget to review!