This story is mine.
Fred is not.
Boo.
Chapter Twelve
"Shake your booty like a boggart in pain! Again and again and again!"
Fred nearly collapsed from laughter at the sight of a very drunken Hermione shaking her backside as she sang off-key at the top of her lungs and trying not to fall over as they walked back to The Burrow in the small hours. The party was still going strong further down the garden, but Molly had decided that Hermione had had a little bit too much elf wine and Firewhiskey, and delegated Fred with the task of putting her to bed.
Except, Fred was much more experienced with alcohol. And so was much more experienced in hiding his true drunken state from his mother, but in truth, he was much in the same state as Hermione. Stumbling, singing and laughing were at the top of his list too. "Get it on like an angry spectre, who's definitely out to get ya!" He sang as he grabbed the woman in front of him around the waist and swung the two of them around in a large circle, causing the world to spin. "Right, come on you," he said to her as he hoisted her into his arms and carried her into the house and up the several flights of stairs.
Setting her back on her feet as they reached his bedroom, he wrapped his arms around her waist, as she reached behind him in an attempt to grab the blanket from bed. Suddenly, the wooden floor beneath them was suddenly coming closer and closer, and before he knew it both he and his fiancée lay on the floor, she on top of him, a cacophony of laughter erupting from them.
Hermione's raucous giggles were doing strange things to Fred, a warmth growing in his stomach as he listened to the tinkling sound as it filled his ears and as he felt her body shake against his. Rolling her over so she now lay beside him, something stirred within him, and all he wanted was to feel her; to feel her hair as he tangled his fingers in the wild curls, her soft curves as he placed his hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him as her intoxicating scent enveloped his senses and drew him deeper into his infatuation. To feel her lips on his.
And he did just that; gently encasing her rosy lips in his own, feeling their softness as they moulded perfectly to his, moving in total synchronisation together. He heard her breathing hitch slightly as he tentatively ran his tongue across her lower lip, his need to taste her growing. She complied with his suggestion, her mouth gently parting beneath his. She tasted exactly how he imagined she would; beyond his expectations.
They lay like that for a time, letting the world pass them by as they happily lay on the floor, the party ongoing without them. His hand gently caressed her hip, gently moving up and down as he felt her hands gently knead his shoulders, having found their way around his neck sometime prior. He gently nibbled her lower lip, eliciting a gentle moan from her that sent butterflies through his stomach. Spurred on, he kissed her harder, moving his hand from her waist to place in on her cheek, coaxing her even closer to him if it were possible.
He felt her return his passion as she kissed him with equal ferocity; her hands too changing position as she stroked his arms on her way down to his hips where they rested momentarily before she began unbuttoning his cream waistcoat, his powder blue tie having been discarded of hours previously. Before he knew it, her soft hands were gently stroking his toned chest, pausing momentarily as she felt his abs, feeling the definition between each muscle. He smiled as he heard her softly moan, placing his has on hers and pulling it away from his now bare chest, laughing gently as he felt her pout.
If anything could be said about Fred Weasley, it was that he was a gentleman through and through.
He wasn't going to let the woman he loved do this, he wasn't going to let their first time happen like this, not when she was this drunk.
Because he did, he loved her.
Placing a final, gentle kiss on her lips, he lifted his fiancée off the floor and placed her into George's old bed and transfigured the floaty dress she had looked gorgeous in to a pair of simple pyjamas.
"Freddie?" She whispered as sleep began to mask her senses.
"Yes, my love?" He whispered in reply, sitting down beside her on the bed.
"Sleep… beside me?" She asked, using her dwindling energy to speak as her eyes heavily fluttered closed.
"Of course, 'Mione." He told her, kissing her forehead as he lowered down beside her for the night.
Hermione opened her eyes, feeling entirely refreshed after her night's sleep. Looking around her, she took in the familiar surroundings of Ginny's bedroom, the room she had lived in the past year and she had shared every summer since she was welcomed to The Burrow. The pale yellow walls brightened the room, casting a soft glow to bounce of the surfaces when the early morning sun split through the curtains. Kicking back the pale peach blanket that was tucked around her, she listened to the still air around her, trying to detect any signs of movement.
She heard nothing, so she assumed it was relatively early. Only Mrs Weasley would be awake, Mr Weasley too if he hadn't already left for work. Standing up to stretch, she looked around the bedroom to see where she had left her dressing gown, finding it draped across the desk chair alongside Ginny's. Speaking of the red-head, the room was far too quiet for her to be within it, as there were no snores emerging from beneath her duvet. Looking over to the bed at the far side of the room, her assumption was correct, Ginny was not there.
Perhaps she had left during the night to see Harry.
Shrugging, she left the room and made her way towards the bathroom so freshen up before she went downstairs for her breakfast. She paused on her way to skip over the squeaky floor boards, not wanting to waken any of the family up. As she forget herself and stood on a particularly squeaky floor board, she paused to listen for any movement, again only to be met with silence. Deciding to brush it off as an uncanny moment of quiet, she entered the bathroom as turned on the shower.
As she descended the staircase towards the kitchen she was expecting to be met with the delicious aroma of Mrs Weasley's cooking, or the familiar sounds of her gentle singing as she worked. But like before, Hermione heard nothing. And when she reached the final step and stood on the stone floor in the Burrow's kitchen, she found that there was no one downstairs at all.
Now she worried.
Walking the circumference of the house, she peered out of the windows in an attempt to locate another body. It wasn't until she returned to the kitchen did she catch sight of the white marque that stood in the field before the Burrow, something she should have been able to see from her bedroom window.
Maybe that's where they all were, erecting the marquee again for the next wedding ceremony, and that's why no-one was inside the house.
Opening the back door to go out and offer her services, she noticed the entire land that stretched out before her was lavishly decorated as if the wedding was in full swing. Peering into the nearby marquee, she saw a bridal party standing there, evidently waiting for the bride to make her way to the groom, who she could not identify.
Whose wedding was it? Why wasn't she told?
"You all set Herms?" Came the rough, loving voice of her father. Spinning around, she saw her father standing beside her, dressed in a grey suit wearing a deep purple tie with small golden stars. "Can't keep them waiting any long now, my darling." He said as he took her arm and led her forward.
"Dad? What's going on?" She asked, utterly confused as she felt her feet carry her closer and closer to the tent, whilst her head made no sense of the situation.
"Oh my dear girl. Please do not tell me you are so nervous as to forget your own wedding day!" Her father teased her gently, his throaty laugh reverberating through his throat as his words sunk in. She quickly glanced down at her attire, noticing with shock that her pyjamas and red dressing gown had disappeared and instead she was dressed in a floaty, white dress. As she looked up again to take in her surroundings, she found herself right at the top of the marquee, standing beside her fiancée.
She turned to look at him, to discover who he was as she was previously unaware. Catching sight of the all too familiar features that graced the man's face, she felt her stomach contract as she felt Grant take hold of her hand.
"I told you that I would have my way…" He said coldly as he dropped her hand, her world going black.
I know it's short. But I wanted to at least give you something.
Re-reading this before I posted it was hard, I wrote the first part last week based on a similar experience with my boyfriend, only to break up with him the night after. So yeah.
Hope you enjoy, promise I'll get back to you soon with a 3k+ word plus chapter to make up for this.
Much love xx
