For Amanda, who requested Fremione, first kiss.

Showtime, Finale: carrying someone up the stairs

Snow Globe, Ravenclaw Common Room: quilt

Present Wrapping: kissing

Snowflakes: bed

Word Count: 536

"I'm fine!" Hermione groans as Fred carries her up the stairs. She squeezes her eyes closed, grateful no one is around to witness the indignity of the situation. "Please just put me down."

"Fine?" Fred echoes with a snort. "You've broken your bloody ankle, Hermione. That isn't what I would call fine."

He's right, of course. It hurts, and even the smallest movement sends a fresh jolt of pain up her leg. All she had wanted to do was help with the joke shop while George is in bed with the flu! Somehow, her good deed has lead to a broken bone and horribly wounded pride.

Fred moves with surprising ease, taking care to shift her as gently as possible. Hermione can't help but be surprised. The twins have always been pure chaos; the thought that they could so soft is baffling.

He opens the door and carries Hermione inside, kicking the door closed behind them. "Down you go," he says, helping her onto the bed. "Now, let's have a look at it."

Again, he touches her with such care and concern, muttering a soft apology when Hermione sucks in a pained breath.

"I'm fine," she assures him. "It's okay."

"Definitely broken," Fred says. "It's an easy enough fix."

Hermione braces herself. She grips Fred's quilt, taking deep breath after deep breath.

"Trust me," he says, laughing. "George and I have been healing each other's injuries for the longest. If Mum knew about half the crazy accidents we've had…"

She does trust him. Fred and George may be the embodiment of chaos, but she has seen the things they can do. They can manage to harness advanced magic for the sake of pranks. Despite everything, she knows she's in good hands.

Fred mutters the spell, and Hermione feels her bones carefully shift until they click into place again. She offers him a smile. "Thank you."

Fred grins. A pale blush stains his cheeks. "You don't have to thank me," he tells her. "Though, truth be told, I always imagined carrying a beautiful girl to my bedroom under much more pleasant circumstances."

It's her turn to blush. Hermione swallows dryly, playing that sentence back in her head again and again. She's never been called beautiful. Smart, loyal, compassionate, but never beautiful. It's such a silly thing, and she's always strived to be so much more. Still, hearing it now makes her stomach flutter.

Fred leans in. He seems just as nervous, just as anxious as she is. His usual confidence and playfulness seem to fade. "Can I kiss you?"

She nods, her words seeming to fail her. Their lips meet, and she smiles into the kiss. Hermione has been kissed before, but none have ever felt as perfect as this one does now.

They pull away, and Fred grins at her. His blush has darkened, but he looks quite pleased with himself. "Just so you know," he says, "this doesn't mean you have to go around, breaking your bones whenever you want to kiss me. You can just ask."

Hermione laughs and shakes her head. "So, I can make a habit out of kissing you?"

Fred pulls her closer, kissing her again. "Does that answer your question?"