The unexpectable Fred and Hermy!

by Gallie

It's been a terribly long time since this one has been updated, but it's a good read if you're willing to put up with it, and brings along giggles and squirmy feelings inside if you're a Fred/Hermione shipper.

10. Excitement before and at the Pitch

Harry smirked after Fred and returned to his book, but not before he caught Ron staring after the two of them.
"I'd forgotten about the match until now," He said glumly. "I'm rubbish. We'll never win with me playing."
Harry shook his head, feeling that it was useless to try and convince him. It wasn't as if he would listen anyhow.

Hermione smiled as she heard the footsteps behind her and sped up slightly. Why she was going faster on purpose, she had no idea – whether it was teasing Fred again or simply her eagerness to try out a broom.
Her thoughts were also drawn to the Quidditch match the following day. What would it be like, and would Ron do well?
But now that she felt differently about Fred than before all the other matches, she was rather excited to see him in full-Quidditch action.

Fred hurried down the hall after Hermione, his heavy footfalls echoing through the hall. In all truth, he had completely forgotten about the Quidditch match until then. Well, actually, he hadn't forgotten - it had just been shoved to the back of his mind temporarily, and he was quite surprised with himself. He felt that familiar excitement growing at the pit of his stomach at the thought. Ah. He did so love that bloody sport. There was nothing quite so satisfying as whacking at those bludgers and knocking a guy off their broom. Well, he'd have some practice today, anyway.

"Oy!" he called, catching sight of his quarry and quickening his pace a step. "Wait up!"

Eventually he fell into step beside her, and shot her a quick grin. She looked excited. He could barely remember the first time he had ever mounted a broom - he was probably about three, stealing a ride off of one of his brother's brooms - but he did remember the general excitement associated with that event.

"When I said we should hurry, Hermione, I didn't actually mean that we had to run."

Hermione smiled wryly and paused a moment. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the broom and she kept the bag on her shoulder more secure.
"I've just read all about it, but never actually gotten to ride one – what is it like?" She asked, sincerely wanting to know Fred's insight on broomstick riding.
It would be interesting to hear the feeling of riding from a Beater on the Quidditch team, after all – Fred had a very brutal job. Bashing very firm balls at player's heads . . . it sounded dreadful.

Fred gave a dreamy sort of sigh. He tilted his head a bit, turning his eyes up towards the ceiling as he contemplated his answer. There was a slight bounce to his step as he walked along. He liked flying almost as much as he liked pulling pranks. This, said by a Weasley, was no light matter.

"It... it is..." he didn't get any further before he stumbled on his words. He gestured a bit, and then frowned. "Well, flying a broom's like...."

He trailed off again, and lowered his eyes to blink at Hermione. He could simply not find the words to expression what it felt like to fly, high above the heads of the others, the adhrenaline pounding through his veins during the full excitement of a Quidditch game. He couldn't exactly explain that, and he wasn't exactly sure that Hermione would quite relate to the sensation anyway. He smirked and gave a small shrug, twirling the handle of his broom between one large hand as he supplied,

"You just simply haven't lived yet 'til you get up there."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. Goodness, that sounded wonderful.
The way Fred described it was the way Fred looked when he talked about jokes, and that was saying something.
"So. . ." She said as they went out the front doors into the frosty air. "I suppose that I'll need to get out there as quick as possible?" A rare grin flashed across her features as that sparkly white shine that only appeared when she was cold came to her eyes.

Fred smirked. For a moment he felt a strange sort of butterfly feeling in his stomach, for he had just thought to himself how beautiful Hermione looked when she grinned like that.

"Quite right, my lady..."

He laughed, and then without preemptive he darted off in a quick run towards the Quidditch Pitch. The cold always made him have the almost overwhelming desire to run or do something that required a lot of action, and he could not bear simply walking across the ground.

"We can run, now!" he called over his shoulder. "I'll race you!"

Hermione felt the same zip of adrenaline butterflies shoot through her stomach and laughed. "Fred!" She called, then sighed and started to run after him, feet nearly frozen from the snow.
"I'll never catch up!" But she couldn't help but laugh as she ran, still holding the broom in her hand. She was only a few feet behind him now, and gaining slowly.
"Oh, you cheeky little . . ."

Fred laughed again, and cast a look over his shoulder at the approaching Hermione. He was tempted to slow down and let her win, but he knew that she probably would scold him for it if he tried.

"Cheeky little what?" he asked -- well, cheekily.

Of course, he probably should not have done that. If he wasn't busy ogling at her, he would have avoided tripping over some random lump in the snow, that obviously had a bit of substance under it. As it was, he continued to ogle at Hermione, and so he went fell forward, head over heels, with nothing but a short "Oof!" as he fell on his hands and knees. He was unhurt, of course, but his pride was a bit bruised. Grabbing for his broom, Fred gave an unintelligible growl and scrambled to his feet, but he knew there was little hope that he would win the race now.

With a small laugh, Hermione had been distracted as well; before she realized that Fred had bit the snow.
And, being directly behind him going at top speed as fast as she could, there was little hope of slowing down to avoid impact.
Dropping the broom and nearly tripping before she even reached Fred, Hermione collided right into him and knocked them both down on the ground with a cry of, "AH!"
Her bag hit the ground and so did she, ending up in a very confused mess.

The whole situation was so unfortunate and confusing and ridiculous that Fred could not help but start laughing as he tumbled back to the ground again. It felt as if snow was now sticking to every part of his body, and it was absolutely freezing. However, he could think of less pleasant circumstances than rolling in the snow with Hermione. Snickering madly and choking on his laughter, he struggled to his knees, though it was rather difficult since he was being pinned down by both Hermione and her infamous bag that probably weighed more than she did.

"Are - are you all --"

He couldn't do it. He was laughing too hard. Good heavens, he was acting like an idiot. Not for the first time, he was glad that George or Lee or anyone of the sort weren't around to see him like this. Finally he sobered enough to say, properly,

"You alright?"

Fred's was so contagious, that Hermione burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as well.
She tried to get up, but her cloak was pinned down by something and she simply fell back down again. "I'm sorry," She managed between breaths of laughter. "Am I hurting you?" Her head was resting on his stomach and she was so tired from trying to move in the snow that she thought she might need to fall asleep – but just as his thoughts were, she was not exactly hating being on the ground in the snow with Fred.

The Weasley twin's grin faded to a happy sort of smile, and he shook his head.

"Nah, not at all," came the breathy reply - his laughter was fading a bit, as he too felt a bit drowsy after their struggles.

He propped himself up on his elbow, and lifted his free hand to run it gently over her brown hair. He realized that he would be perfectly happy if they never had to move again, if he could simply stay sprawled in the snow with Hermione 'till the world crashed about them. A bit of a deep thought for the trickster, but he meant it at the time. He had never been so happy as when he was with her. Sure, he had been happy plenty of times in his life - but not like this. He mused over the thought for a bit, completely unaware of cold.

Hermione's thoughts were along the line of Fred's. Every time his hand went over her hair, a pleasant shiver ran down her spine and settled in her stomach.
She never thought that one day she might be lying in the snow with Fred Weasley of all people. Fred Weasley!
Her eyes scanned the cloudy sky and she pondered whether to move or not – but it was so tempting just to remain there and stay until the sun went down.
She also wondered if she should say something to him – maybe a compliment, or just to say something about how she felt. As she thought this a terrified jolt of panic shot through her and she suddenly found that she was split in half.
To say something, or not to say something.
"Fred ––" She began slowly, trying to get some of the words out. Maybe that would be easiest in this completely and absolutely new world of feelings.
She sighed and closed her eyes. "You're wonderful. . ."
As she said a half-satisfied, half ridiculously difficult feeling crept over her. She wondered whether Fred would think her an idiot.

For roughly the first time in his life, a faint blush crept across Fred's cheeks. At first he was a bit speechless by the simple compliment, for a few reasons. He believed this was the first Hermione had ever given him. He was also struck by the irony of it. Just a few months ago, who would have said something like that to him? Sure, he had heard things such as: "Fred, you're crazy." "Fred, you're an idiot." "Fred, you're annoying." But, "Fred, you're wonderful"? It was almost a laughable thought. No, never! He wondered what Hermione saw in him to come up with something like that.

Of course he didn't think that Hermione was an idiot - he was a bit surprised, though, and didn't know quite what to say in reply. "You too?" How much less tact could one have to say that? "Thanks?" Even less. His hand stilled for a bit, and he peered down at her curiously as he searched for the right words. Some came to him, though whether they were right or not was up to Hermione's reaction.

"Only when I'm with you."

He fell into a musing silence, and then, at last, he realized that he was sitting in snow, and he was absolutely freezing his arrse off.

It was Hermione's turn to blush pink slightly and she felt her stomach flutter.
Then when she remembered where they were supposed to be going, she, (with difficulty) sat up and turned around to stare at Fred for a moment. Just a moment, before they got up again.
There wasn't really a need for words, it was kind of just a thoughtful moment where Hermione, with her brown hair falling down beside her face, stared directly at Fred with content eyes as they sat in the soft yet freezing cold snow.
She hoped he still didn't think she was being too close with him.

Fred tilted his head a bit, and some of his snow-flecked hair shifted over his forehead. He smiled at Hermione with a far-away sort of smile. He met her gaze and held it, his expression very similar to her own. He let his fingers fall from her hair, resting his hand instead on her shoulder. He did not feel overly motivated to move just yet.

Hermione felt his hand on her shoulder and her eyes searched his curiously –– then, slowly, she drew her finger up to Fred's cheek, leaned in, and kissed him as softly as she could.
As she did, she felt her throat tighten oddly and she withdrew with her stomach zipping.
How was it that she had enough nerves to do that?
A few months ago she would've rather failed every exam miserably than kiss Fred on the lips, and now she was doing it willingly.
Gracious, what had gotten into her

Fred's eyebrows shot up slightly. Hermione had the uncanny knack of astonishing him sometimes - more often than anyone else had ever had the ability to, as a matter of fact. He smiled, though. It was a pleasant surprise. Now, he realized he had a dilemma on his hands - a little voice in the back of his head was telling him that they were wasting time here, and that the sooner they got on to the Quidditch Pitch, the better; but also after her soft kiss, it only made him feel the overwhelming desire to kiss her again. Now, as much as he loved Quidditch, in his eyes there wasn't much of a choice...

He leaned closer to her, slipping his other hand over the back of her neck as he returned the kiss - just as softly. He understood what a gigantic leap it was for her to kiss him first, so he pulled back soon, giving her one of his most charming smiles.

Hermione was quite taken aback at the return kiss – and was so shocked, that when he withdrew, her mouth was slightly open. Then, when she realized how much it meant to her, and how much he had meant it, Hermione threw her arms around him and buried her face into his neck.
It might've been a bit brash – but she didn't care at the moment. She felt tremendously free, and was enjoying every second she spent with him.
Then, as if someone had once again tickled her nerves, she began to laugh quietly.

Fred had not exactly been expecting that reaction, but he was well beyond being surprised at this point. He did not react right away, not knowing quite what to do in this situation, but eventually the clever boy figured it out. He wrapped his arms around her with a happy sigh. As she began to laugh, he chuckled softly. He felt warm, and happy, and oddly impulsive - even more so than he did in the regular span of a day. He did not do anything right away, merely enjoying the feeling and warmth of the embrace. Then, suddenly, he stood, and as he was holding her tightly he lifted Hermione right up with him, sweeping her off her feet. He twirled her a bit before setting her on her feet, and then grinned at her, his brown eyes glittering. He didn't know what to say, so he merely ruffled the snowflakes out of her hair.

Hermione's spirits were soaring – never had she been happier in her life, even when she passed all her exams with 112 percent.
It was strange, she was always up for giving Ron and Harry advice about emotions – but stepping into the actual world itself was an entirely new experience and more difficult than she had actually imagined.
When they stopped spinning, without a moments hesitation, Hermione grinned at Fred, then swiped up her broom from the ground and stuck out her tongue in a teasing manner.
"I'll beat you now," She smiled, breathing quickly before turning and beginning to run the rest of the way to the Quidditch pitch.
They were close enough already, so she hurried up the steps and entered the giant arena waiting for Fred to follow.

Fred gave a laugh. He snatched up his broom and was after Hermione in a flash, though he did not try to win this time. He was not exactly sure if he could do it even if he wanted to. He was slightly out of breath when he caught up with her, though still grinning. He cast a quick glance about him, at the wide open Pitch, and he felt that familiar feeling of excitement he got every time before he was about to fly. He had understandably forgotten about their plans just a little while ago, but already he was just as eager to be off as when they first set out.

"Well, Hermione?" he began, his eyes shining. "Are you ready to fly, then?"

Hermione was awed by the size and splendor of the Quidditch pitch.
The snow had formed icicles on the stands and there was frost everywhere.
It looked like a giant ice stadium – and Hermione wondered how much colder it would be actually in the air, going very fast.
"Alright. . ." She said slowly, taking a few crunchy steps forward. "But you're going to need to help me a lot, because I haven't a clue of what I'm doing. . ."
She grinned at him and exhaled, causing a blast of vapor to evaporate into the air.

Fred nodded.

"Of course," he assured her. He didn't mention that he hadn't a clue of how to help her. He had never exactly tried to teach anyone how to ride a broom before. He was rather confident in himself, however, so he didn't bother to say anything of the sort. He followed her out into the pitch, turning his bright eyes about him as he did so. He knew exactly how cold it was going to be once they started flying - especially with their wet clothes, it was not going to be a very pleasant experience -- not that he cared.

"Well, are you ready to start?" he asked, beaming.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded with a wry smile. She had never done this before, but studied enough about it.
"Okay, let's see. . ."
As she had learned in her very first year at Hogwarts, she set her broom in the air, let go, and it hovered at just the right height for her.
"Well. First step accomplished." She said, laughing slightly and turning a worried eye to Fred.

Fred tried, without very much success, to hide a smirk. He nodded. He did not try to mount his broom yet, wanted instead to wait until Hermione was a bit more steady on hers. He didn't want to be preoccupied with staying on his own broom, just incase she happened to fall off.

"Indeed," he assented. "Now, on to the next step --"

He lifted his eyebrows slightly, hoping that she could recall that step without him having to remind her. It was a bit obvious.

Of course, Hermione did not need reminding, -- why would she? So she swung her leg over the broom and sat on it for a few moments.
"This is so odd. . ." She muttered, before looking upwards and saying, "So, er – just, kick off and away then I guess?"
Now that she was actually there it looked a bit intimidating, getting ready to fly hundreds of feet in the air on nothing but a broomstick.
The sky was an endless range of grey, and who knew what would happen if she fell of. . .

The Weasley was already stepping over his broom and ready to kick off. It was a rather scary thought, and he was a bit nervous. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if Hermione got hurt because of this. However he tried not to let this show - she wanted to fly, and if he wasn't going to teach her, there was very little chance anyone would -- unless Harry suddenly felt possessed enough to do so, and frankly Fred wanted to have the task to himself.

"Yeah," he said with yet another nod - "Just... not too hard. I'll be right behind you."

He watched her expectantly, hands ready on the handle of his broom.

Hermione took a breath one last time, and – preparing for the worst, kicked off of the ground.
With a great lifting feeling, the icy wind rushed past her and she gasped.
All of a sudden she was far, way, way up in the air without a clue as to how she'd done it.
She looked down and her eyes widened to the size of galleons.
"Oh bloody hell," She breathed, then quickly clapped a hand to her mouth at the words that she had just said and her eyes widened even more.
Almost immediately, her one hand that was keeping her on the broom nearly slipped and with a jolt of fear and adrenaline, Hermione grasped the broom with both hands and held on so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
But even as horrifying as it was, the feeling was a thrill like no other – Fred was right. It was unbelievable and so utterly shocking for Hermione, that a small smile came upon her still astonished face.
"Fred!' She said loudly, throat very dry from the cold. "I can't believe what I'm doing!"

Fred felt as if something very heavy was settling in the pit of his stomach, but it was not quite due to the sudden change of altitude. As he had promised, he was just a heartbeat behind Hermione - or rather, below her. The frigid cold wind that blew against his snow-dampened skin felt almost painful, like being pricked by several needles at once. He bore it by gritting his teeth and by putting his full attention towards Hermione. He pulled up to a stop beside her, his hair flying all over his face as he gazed at her. He kept one hand rested on his hip, ready to dart it out to grab her if she grew unsteady and fell. He was nearly rigid with cold and nervousness, but for her sake he tried to hide it, or attribute it more to cold.

"You're doing great, Hermione!" he called, literally beaming at her.

Hermione looked around the field and nearly fell off her broom again.
Before he beamed though, Hermione could detect and see the worry in Fred's face.
"Oh Fred," She said, shivering from the cold and peering at the three hoops on the opposite side of the field in front of her. "Stop worrying, I'm not going to fall."
She wasn't entirely sure of her own statement, but she didn't want Fred to worry about her.
With a sudden jolt of daring, she leaned forward on the broom and felt the wind rush by her as she went zooming off down the pitch.
It was quite frightening, to watch the hoops which were once a hundred feet away and very tiny – grow to the size of hubcaps in less than seven seconds.
She turned around and smiled at Fred.

Fred gaped out of her with a slack-jawed expression on his face. Oh bloody hell, indeed. He laughed weakly when she stopped and looked at him, and shook his head in rank astonishment. Quick learner, she was. Feeling a bit more confident now, he gave an amused snort and leaned forward, flying after her. He didn't know where that bout of worrying came from. It was definitely an un-Fred-ish feeling. He felt the familiar "whoosh" in his ears, and he was missing the feeling of the bat in his hand. Not that he didn't have any bludgers to bash at at the moment - but it was still rather unsettling, like eating a meal without a fork or... something. It did not take very long for him to reach Hermione, and he turned in a sharp about-face as he stopped.

"Not bad for a first try," he commented.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in a mock-disapproving manner, and tilted forward a bit.
"Thank you Fred," She said in a dignified voice, turning around to look at the hoops.
"Not quite big enough for someone to fit through, eh?" She laughed and let her hands unclench a little, though it was difficult as they were frozen to the wood.
"It's not as bad as I thought, you know. . ."

Fred gave a slight snicker as he heard her first comment. He decided not to mention the fact that there had been a few instances in which a keeper or a random player would get stuck in or go through those rings. He realized that this probably wouldn't be something that Hermione would like to hear - best not point out some of the more violent sides of the sport just yet.

"Of course not," he said. "And it only gets better with practice. We'll have you playing Quidditch before you now it!"

Speaking of Quidditch, he still had some practicing to do. He ran his numb fingers through his hair and shook it out of his face, narrowing his eyes downwards at the field. His heart was beating a rather quick rhythm in his chest, and he was absolutely hating not doing anything for - about thirteen seconds? Maybe less...

"Well, then," he smirked. "Now that you're airborne, what would you like me to teach you? Anything in particular?"

"Actually," Hermione said, adjusting herself on the broom and trying not to look down. "I myself would like to just watch you practice for the game tomorrow – Slytherin versus Gryffindor, you're going to need all the practice you can get." She smiled and peered around the pitch. "Besides, I need some time to get used to the broom and learn some of my own moves. Go on, I want to see how Beaters work..."

He knew that Hermione was right - but oddly enough, he felt a strange sort of reluctance to practice in front of her. Beater was a rather brutal position, after all, and he imagined what would happen if he did something extremely stupid as she watched him while he was practicing. What if he missed the bludger, and it whacked him right in the nose? Silly thought, really. That never happened - well, hardly ever happened -- er, well, it happened, but not that often. But still -- truth was, he hadn't practiced for a good while now, and he aught to get going.

"All right, then," he said then, with a grin. "But I'm warning you, you will probably be obscenely bored."

And without further ado, he sped towards the ground and dismounted quickly. He cast an uneasy look up at Hermione before he stalked off to the Locker Rooms.

Hermione frowned and laughed slightly. Bored? Of course not! Fred needed to stop assuming things about her.
With a shiver, she looked around the pitch to see what it was like and nearly fell of her broom again from shock.
She shook her head and gazed fixedly at the spot where she'd seen something peculiar.
Him... out here? But why? He was supposed to be inside!
But with a few blinks he was gone and Hermione was left completely speechless.
She whipped her head around to make sure that Fred was either a) still in the locker rooms, or b) hadn't seen what she'd seen.
If he did, there would be problems.

No - thankfully for Hermione, and unfortunately for him, Fred had not seen that mysterious thing that she had. But just a few moments later he came trundling back into the frosted field, a beater's club and in his hand. He had the chest that held the Quidditch balls under one arm and his broom under his other. He let the box drop at his feet, along with his broom, and lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he squinted up at Hermione. The sun was glinting off of the ice and snow and seemed oddly bright when he was looking upwards.

"Y'alright, Hermione?" he called, hoping she could hear him from up there.

He suddenly realized that there was a bit of a bad side about practicing with her in the air. What if the bludger got out of hand, and attacked Hermione? Good heavens, she was hardly steady on the thing yet, anyway!

Hermione snapped out of her kind of horrified trance and smiled down at Fred. "I'm fine Fred!"
It suddenly occurred to her, what might happen if the bludger detected another living being, namely her, out on the field and zoomed towards it.
She didn't know how to dodge bludgers – or how even to ride a broom yet let alone swerve to avoid getting her face broken in!
But, since she wanted to see Fred practice so badly, she decided to cross that dangerous bridge when she came to it and simply waved at Fred, careful to keep her other hand firmly on the broom. "Go on!"
She was feeling more and more comfortable on the broom by the second, so why couldn't she deal with a bludger than probably wouldn't chase her anyways?

Fred gave a nervous sort of grin. He knelt down next to the chest and tossed the lid open. For a split second he let his eyes travel over the balls in their places, and then he looked back up towards Hermione. He thought he would call out just one more warning before he let the bludger loose.

"If it comes towards you--" he called, and paused, trying to decide what sort of advice he should give her. "Er - get to the ground as quickly as possible!"

Guessing that he had heard her, he gave her a wave, and then got prepared. He grabbed his bat hesitantly in one hand, made sure that his broom was nearby for him to grab, and then pulled back the straps that kept one of the bludgers firmly in place. It flew up out of the chest instantly, and went zooming at once off to the goalposts opposite Hermione's side of the field. In a moment Fred had re-mounted his broom and was up in the air. He hovered there for a while, one eye on the bludger and one on Hermione. He flexed his fingers about the bat, ready to smack the bludger into kingdom-come the moment it came back to him. He gave it roughly about fifteen seconds, for it was already speeding his way.

With a horrifying jolt of panic, Hermione tried to keep her face calm as she watched the bludger fly around menacingly.
As it zoomed toward Fred she got even more worried, but relaxed when she remember that not only did he have a club, but was trained to smack the little buggers from here to the opposite end of the field.
She flew forward on the broom a bit, watching him intently to see just exactly how it was done and the techniques Fred knew.
Hermione understood that being a Beater was a brutal position, and was interested to see how she would feel to see him in action.

Within moments, Fred had forgotten both about the cold and about being watched. When the bludger came zooming towards him, he drew his bat over his shoulder and hit the thing as hard as he could. There was a sharp "crack!" as the club met the ball, and the bludger when whizzing through the air. He gave a satisfied smirk, and then immediately flew after it, overtaking it a good distance down the pitch and hitting it again. He bashed the thing several more times, randomly and in no fixed pattern, just to get accustomed to the feel of the action again. He had a feeling that this would be a more relaxed training session than he was accustomed to. George and he tended to go overboard usually when they practiced, whacking the bludgers at each other with such force that it was easily more brutal than the actualy Quidditch match. The next time the bludger came around to him, he bashed it with particular brutality. This time he aimed for one of the goalposts, and he watched after it with a rather pleased look as it the heavy ball hit home with a thud. His smirk grew into a grin - ah, how he loved Quidditch. He would definitely miss it once he and George left Hogwarts. Hopefully they would still be able to play it now and again with their other brothers, but it just wouldn't be the same. He cast a quick look at Hermione when the bludger was still 'recovering'. He had been careful not to hit the ball in her direction, and he wondered how she was holding up.

Hermione was busy trying to experiment with the broom to see how daring she could actually be.
She had shot forward really quickly and came to an abrupt halt, she had actually even tilted forward so her face was pointing to the ground and she was nearly vertical – but quickly brought herself back up again for fear of sliding off the end.
When she had come up, she saw Fred hit the bludger towards the end of the field, and suddenly thought that he looked very brave and tough as he did so.
He looked like he knew what he was doing, and to Hermione it was an odd way of showing how strong he was, even though the feeling made absolutely no sense to her.
She was lost in thought a few moments, staring glassily at the spot where the bludger had one been.

Agh! Dammit!"

As he was a bit distracted whilst watching Hermione, the bludger unexpectedly doubled up and came flying back to the beater. He saw it, true, but not in time to do anything but duck his head out of the way. It smashed directly in the shoulder, and he clung to the handle of his broom to keep from falling off. As it came around to finish off the attack, Fred had recovered enough to whack it away from him. It was not a very hard blow, but it went scattering away just the same. He gave a short snort of discust and tossed his head testily, glaring after it with a contemptuous expression. That was a mistake that he had not made in a very long time, and he rubbed at his slightly sore shoulder. It did not hurt very badly, but still. He was not sure who he was more annoyed at - the bludger or himself.

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw the bludger plow straight into Fred – and then narrowed at the bludger as if she were angry at it.
Yet she was more worried than angry for Fred, hoping he wouldn't fall or be seriously injured. "Are you alright Fred?" She called, keeping half an eye on the bludger which had zoomed away from him when he hit it, and half a panicked eye on him.
She tried to steer the broom towards him and succeeded, though it was difficult work.
With an annoyed sigh, she finally got the broom to zoom towards him and pull right up beside his broom.

Fred let out an exhasperated sigh, but he did manage to flash her a small grin when Hermione came up to him - he still kept one eye on the bludger, of course, but it was circling around below them like an angry hornet swatted by a newspaper. He wouldn't make the mistake of looking away from it again. He was rather touched by her concern. Of course, trying to act all stoic, he made nothing of it. He refrained from rubbing at his shoulder again, though it did smart a little.

"Ah, I'm fine," he said. "Thanks, though. Eh... you might want to move away... y'know, incase it decides to take a hit at you, too..."

He said this as the bludger began to fly back up to them, and he moved forward a bit nervously to get in the path between it and Hermione.

Hermione flew a few feet away from Fred and hovered for a moment or two.
She had been mesmerized by not only Fred's ability to recover from an accident so quickly, but how alert he was and watchful at the bludger at all times.
No matter what, he knew where it was, and yet he had time enough to care for Hermione and tell her to move away.
Just as she was thinking how incredibly thoughtful he was, the bludger zoomed back upwards towards Fred, just past him, and darted back down in her direction.
With a jolt of fright, Hermione realized what it was doing a second before it would have hit her.
Automatically, she threw the broom forward and began to speed off down the pitch to avoid the very fast and hard bludger from smashing her head off.
It continued to follow quickly, like a dog chasing a mail-man, only at top speed and hundreds of feet in the air. Hermione's heart was beating quickly and her stomach felt sick as she flew through the air, not knowing what on earth to do.
When the hoops got so close that she was about to hit them, she went vertical and began to soar straight up towards the clouds.
With a quick check back, she saw that the bludger was still behind her, and took on a spurt of speed.

With an oath, Fred lunged forward on the broom and was on Hermione's tail on an instant. Great. Just great. He KNEW that this would happen! He was absolutely furious with himself. How the bloody hell had he let that bludger get past him!? If only Hermione was not going so bloody fast, he would be able to catch up to her and beat the bloody thing away, but he couldn't bloody well gain on her. In the Weasley's mind, a lot of things were very bloody at the moment. He followed Hermione and the bludger, like a cursing owner who was chasing his dog who was chasing the mailman at a dizzying height up in thin air.

"Hermione!" he positively bellowed, dismayed when she started to fly directly upwards. "Down, Hermione! Try to get to the ground!"

There was positively no use in going HIGHER - if the bludger caught up to her, there was no use falling at an even greater altitude!

Hermione heard Fred yell something, but blood was pounding so hard in her ears that it was indistinct and she could only worry more at something that might be important.
With that frighteningly annoying buzz, the bludger was still following her; so even if she was to do a figure eight a thousand times, the annoying bugger would still be behind her like a magnet.
She had no idea what to do and was already back at the other end of the pitch, so some quick thinking was needed, and the worst of it was – she couldn't stop moving because if she did the bludger would smash her head off.
Having never been hit by a very solid piece of round... -- whatever it was, Hermione did not want to experience the feeling.
So all of a sudden, she steered the broom towards the ground.
It was even more frightening than going up, thought Hermione as she watched the snow get closer and closer – fearing impact.
With a sharp intake of breath, when she was close enough, Hermione jumped off the broom, went tumbling into the icy snow and whipped out her wand, -- but it was too late.
The bludger hurled itself directly toward her hand and smashed straight into it with a sickening crunch.
Hermione was in too much pain to make sound, so she directed her other hand holding the wand at the bludger before it came back for a second attack, and shouted, "Incendio!" - blasting the little ball into a thousand fiery pieces.

Hermione was so tired from what had just happened, that without taking a second thought as to any of the consequences of blowing up school property, she fell into the soft yet cold snow and tried to cool off her hand, which felt as though a car had run over it.
Then as she realized the oddness of it all, her face broke into a completely unbelievable smile. It was a weak, tired, exhausted and worried smile, but a smile all the same.

Fred stopped his broom short in surprise, hovering a little away from where Hermione had - er, landed. His mouth dropped open a bit as he saw the bludger explode into a thousand itty-bitty pieces. He was scandalized, of course, but all in all very impressed by the explosion. He dismounted as quickly as possible and, tossing broom and bat aside, he hurried over to the sprawled Hermione and knelt down beside her. He was rather breathless after this whole ordeal, and the adrenaline was taking its time to wear off, so he took a moment to speak.

"Blimey, Hermione, you alright?"

He refrained from mentioning that that was a wicked-cool curse, and his eyes widened a bit when he noticed that she was smiling - what on earth would she have to smile about at the moment? She could have been seriously hurt! Maybe she was hit in the head when she fell...

Hermione couldn't believe what she had just done either, and for that she sat up and examined all the shards of hot magical wood around them. "Bloody hell. . . what did I just do?" She said shakily, putting her hand that was not bruised and broken up to her mouth and her eyes widening at the words she had just said. "I need to stop saying that,"
She wasn't really sure of what she was saying, still being a bit dazed from being a) chased down by a bludger, b) getting hit by a bludger, and c) blowing up a bludger.
Her brown eyes searched around slowly and came to rest on Fred's face. "Oh my word. . ."

Fred laughed weakly, but he thought the entire situation was far from being humorous. He shook his head a bit. He caught sight of her maimed hand and gave a bit of a sympathetic wince. He extended his own hand to gently touch her wrist, careful not to actually cause her any more pain.

"Ah, Hermione, I'm sorry --" he muttered. "Shouldn't have let that bludger get away..."

He glanced at the ruins of the bludger, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. He wondered if they would get in trouble for that. He hoped that Madame Hooch had a spare somewhere, or they were going to have to postpone the Quidditch game tomorrow. A rather unpleasant jolt panged at his stomach at the thought, but he realized that at the moment Hermione was more important.

"Anything broken?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, not liking the words that came out of her mouth.
Goodness, two things in the past two minutes she had said that she didn't like – a swear word, and the fact that she didn't know something. Remarkable.
"But even if anything is. . . Madam Pomfrey'll be able to mend it in a second – oh no. . ."
Suddenly dawning realization hit her and reality fell back in place.
"Fred," She said in a horrified tone, picking up a piece of bludger with her un-hurt hand. "This was school property. I just blew up -- school – property. . ." She closed her eyes and fell back down into the snow again with a sigh.

Fred shook his head, and said, in all seriousness,

"No, it's alright - you did it in self-defense, I don't think that anyone could hold it against you for that."

Actually, he was certain that if Umbridge came across such information, she might have a field day with it - especially if she found out that two students were using the Pitch without permission whilst the incident occurred. The only thing for it, then, was to make sure that she never learned about it. Already he was trying to think up a reasonable explanation. Maybe he could say that it just - malfunctioned and fell, and - unexplainably exploded into a hundred pieces. That was the best he could think of, other than saying that Crabbe or Goyle sat on it.

"Here, let's get you up to the Hospital Wing," he suggested, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Can you stand?"

"Of course I can," Hermione replied, shaking her head in a surreal sort of way and slowly standing. She had the strong urge to sit back down again, for now that the reality had come back, so had the pain she had so unpleasantly experienced when the bludger made contact with her hand.
"Oh... this is terrible... what about the game tomorrow?" Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. "— the GAME – oh no, it'll be my fault the game is cancelled if that happens Fred... this is SERIOUS... this is so bad – this is awful..."