Happy one year, Bea. You (almost) match my level of crazy.
Hermione didn't hear Fred entering the living room until he plopped down beside her, The couch bobbed slightly under them, adjusting to the added weight. Hermione let out a shrill scream, startled by his appearance, and raised her hands to attack Fred when he covered her mouth with his hand.
"Shh! You'll wake up the others!" he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the stairs. Fortunately, no one came bounding down to check on them. Weasleys were notoriously cranky when their sleep was disturbed.
Hermione's heart was in her throat. She tapped Fred's thigh to assure him she wasn't going to scream. When he finally removed his hand from her mouth, she turned and smacked his arm, her eyes narrowed. "You scared me to death! Don't sneak up on people like that! What if I had attacked you?"
"I'm sorry," Fred said, bowing his head and rubbing the nape of his neck. "For once, I didn't mean to..."
Hermione placed a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She leaned back against the couch and murmured, "I know. It still scared me. You were too quiet."
"I wasn't that quiet. You were just busy reading," Fred said, a small grin forming on his face. "What were you reading anyway? It's past midnight! You should be in bed."
"So should you," Hermione pointed out, ignoring his question. "What are you doing up anyway? Please tell me you're not here to set up for some prank. I don't have the energy for more pranks."
Fred's laughter rumbled through the living room. He shook his head, and his eyes shone with amusement. "You know us too well, Granger. But no, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come down here instead. Didn't expect to find you here, though…"
Hermione's brow furrowed. "You couldn't sleep? How's that even possible? You played Quidditch for eight hours today—you should be exhausted!"
Fred's grin stretched further, from ear to ear. The presence of both ears was now most people's way of identifying the twins, but Hermione had always known the difference.
"Oh, I am exhausted. Did you see the match we played today? Quidditch is lethal, Granger. Lethal, I tell you! I can barely move a muscle," he said, lazily stretching his arms overhead. He dropped an arm over Hermione's shoulder and yawned.
Hermione blinked. "But you still can't sleep?"
"Yeah, no idea why... Hey," Fred suddenly said, perking up a little. "Do you want a drink?"
"I shouldn't… I've got work in the morning," Hermione said half-heartedly. If she drank something before sleeping, she was sure to be drowsy all day.
"It won't kill you to have fun," Fred said lightly, unaware of how his words were currently being misconstrued. "Live a little."
Hermione pursed her lips and straightened her shoulders. She didn't like being pressured, but she didn't want Fred to mock her, either—which she was sure he would do otherwise. "Fine, just one drink," she said, hesitantly agreeing to it.
Fred's smile was crooked as he waved his hand and wandlessly Summoned a bottle of Firewhisky.
One drink turned into the entire bottle, and soon, Hermione and Fred were curled up on the couch, giggling and whispering as they talked about everything and nothing. Hermione's mind was hazy, and she blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear it.
"I had a weird dream last night," Fred said suddenly, leaning closer against her side. His warmth was unlike anything she had ever felt before. "Want to hear about it?"
Hermione glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, trying to figure out what the time was. Was it almost one—or was it two? Either way, it was later than usual and she still wasn't tired. Hermione turned to Fred and nodded. "Okay, tell me."
Fred scooted even closer, completely pressed up against her side, and began regaling her with an obviously fabricated tale composed of goblins in fuchsia-pink lace dresses, knights who swallowed marbles and danced with Dementors, and Princess Hermione, who played fetch with pie-eating dragons. He flailed his arms around, almost hitting her as he described the scene.
Hermione's laughter echoed around the large room, sounding more like evil cackles than an expression of amusement. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and tears ran down her face as she clutched her belly for support.
"Stop it, please," Hermione managed to gasp out, bending over double. "I can't take it anymore!"
Fred grinned and said, "But you didn't let me finish! Don't you want to know what happened to the knight who broke up with his Dementor lover for the goblin?"
Hermione burst into peals of laughter again, remembering the private moments the knight had shared with the Dementor. Minty fresh breath, curled talons stroking the black-haired knight's back, and the breathy gasps and moans escaping the Dementor's puckered mouth.
"Please, no more! I beg you," Hermione said, her shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter. When she finally composed herself, she looked up at Fred. "There is no way you dreamt of all that."
"Okay, you're right. I only dreamt of you and the pie-eating dragons," Fred said, a smile still present on his face.
"Why did you bring in the goblins and Dementors?"
"Just to make you laugh," Fred replied offhandedly. "I like it when you laugh."
Hermione's face broke out in a huge smile. She caught herself and blushed, shaking the grin from her face. "Well, I'm nothing like a princess—so, your dream was wrong about that much."
"What do you mean you're not like a princess? Don't you want someone to save you?" Fred asked teasingly.
"I can save myself, thank you very much," Hermione said haughtily, raising her nose up in the air. She shifted away from Fred, but his arm tightened and kept her close.
"Just because you can save yourself doesn't mean you have to. Mum always taught me to help a damsel in distress—or stand nearby and cheer her on as she kicks arse."
Hermione ducked her head to hide her smile, her hair forming a curtain around her face. Her mind was blank; she didn't know what to say to Fred after his declaration.
She bit her lip and glanced up at Fred. His eyes were strikingly clear despite the alcohol. Her insides turned to mush, and she berated herself for losing focus so quickly. Gazing into Fred's eyes may have been something she wished to do, but it wasn't good for her heart.
"So, now that I've told you what I dreamt of, it's your turn," Fred said, wrapping his arm around Hermione's waist and tugging her closer.
Hermione blamed the alcohol for what she said next. "I dream of finding love."
She felt Fred sit up on the couch beneath her. He cocked his head, meeting her eye with a curious look. "Really? Never thought you'd be one to dream of that. I always thought you'd dream of ruling the world with justice and valour."
"Justice and valour?" Hermione giggled at the thought and shook her head. "No, I don't dream of that."
"So, tell me what kind of love are you looking for?" Fred asked, drawing little circles on her thigh. It tickled, but Hermione liked the soft sensation of his fingers on her body.
"Well, I'm not sure," Hermione admitted, staring at the fireplace.
"Hermione Granger? Not sure about something? Alert the Prophet," Fred exclaimed and started chuckling. "Surely you must have some expectations about your ideal partner. For example, I'd like to be with someone who doesn't take life too seriously, who can laugh at her own mistakes. Maybe someone who dresses up for herself—not because she has to—but still values comfort. That's really attractive to me. So... what's attractive to you, Hermione?"
Hermione was silent. What was she attracted to? If anyone else had asked her, she would have said, "I don't have time to think about such unnecessary things." But because it was Fred who'd asked her, his tone curious and genuinely interested, the alcohol she had imbibed began to loosen her tongue.
"Someone who is intelligent and hardworking," she said softly, not daring to meet his eyes. "Someone kind, who doesn't treat people or creatures like they're beneath him… Someone who understands me and knows just what to say to make me feel better."
"You've set the bar too low," Fred said with a soft chuckle.
"Yet, I haven't found anyone. So clearly the bar is still too high."
Fred shifted so that he could place his cheek on her head. "Hmm," he murmured. "This is nice. Us bonding. We don't do that too often, do we?"
"No, no, we don't," Hermione whispered, her eyes glazing over as the fire's heat and Fred's warmth began to lull her to sleep.
"We should make this a tradition," Fred said, now tracing circles on her hip. "A Fred-and-Hermione day—a Fremione day! Would you like that?" Hermione hummed in agreement and felt Fred smile against her head.
The next morning, when Ginny came slinking down the stairs of the Burrow, her eyes still half-shut, she stopped dead in her tracks. She squinted and then rubbed her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Fred and Hermione lay on the couch, perfectly wrapped up in each other's arms. Hermione's arm and leg were thrown over Fred's waist, and his hand was buried in her hair. They seemed so comfortable in their intimate position that Ginny had to wonder if they had done this before. Ginny's mind raced with all sorts of thoughts, and she stood there, staring at the duo sleeping without any care in the world.
"What are you looking at?" George muttered, walking up behind her.
Ginny didn't reply; she just pointed at the couch, waiting for her brother to confirm what she was seeing. George looked up and stared.
"What do you think?" she asked, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind.
"What should I be thinking?" George murmured, still staring at the couple.
Ginny rolled her eyes, aware that George wasn't as awake as he should be. "We need to set them up somehow. Can't you see how cute they look together? Why have we never seen this before?"
George's eyes slowly widened as he glanced between Ginny and the couple on the couch a few times. "Oh… OH!"
"Now you get it," Ginny said, smacking George's arm with a laugh. Just then, Fred shifted in his sleep and tightened his hold on Hermione's waist; the scene caused Ginny to purse her lips to stop a squeal from escaping them. "So what do you think?"
"Brilliant idea, Gin," George said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. He, too, stood there watching Fred and Hermione for a few more moments. "Let's have breakfast first, and then… we'll plan our attack."
Ginny's smile was just as wicked as George's.
When Hermione returned home to her own flat that evening, she groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. Work that day had been gruelling, and she was yearning for a long, hot soak in the tub. For once, she didn't bother hanging her purse in its designated spot. Instead, she let it drop to the ground with a soft thunk.
As she looked into the cupboard for something to wear, Fred's words rang in her head. Dresses up for herself—not because she has to—but still values comfort. Her fingers hesitated over the loose sweatshirt she usually wore to bed, its sleeves almost in tatters and worn threadbare in certain places, and her eyes trailed over to the new silk dressing gown that was almost hidden in the back. It was a gift from her mother, but Hermione hadn't had the heart to tell the older woman that she wasn't the sort to wear such things to bed.
With a spontaneous decision now made, Hermione picked up the gown and walked into the bathroom, leaving the sweatshirt behind.
After she was done with her bath, Hermione walked to the living room, running her hands over her gown. Even though there wasn't anyone in the flat to see her wearing it, Hermione couldn't help but feel as though she were walking around naked.
The peach-pink gown was soft and smooth against her bare skin, rustling about her ankles as she moved towards the armchair. The garment wasn't as restricting as she had first assumed it would be.
She sat down in the plush armchair and looked at the paperwork lying on the table. It was due in about two months, and Hermione's hands itched to complete the forms. Fred's words floated into her mind, 'Someone who doesn't take life too seriously.'
She knew she shouldn't take Fred's words to heart, but a small part of her wished to rebel. Why couldn't she be more like other girls? It wouldn't do her any harm, would it? It's not like she would suddenly lose the traits that made her her. Right?
Hermione shook her head and leaned back, opting, for probably the first time ever, to ignore the work. Instead, she Summoned the book she had been reading the previous night, having remembered to pack it in the morning as she left the Burrow, and opened it to chapter three. She rarely read novels, claiming they served no educational purpose, but the one in her hands was so enthralling that she couldn't fault herself for being fascinated by it.
Hours later, Hermione returned to the real world. She closed the book, placed it down, and exhaled. She inhaled slowly before letting out a loud pterodactyl-like screech, covering her face with her hands. Her pulse thrummed beneath her fingers as she clenched her hands, unable to believe how devastatingly wonderful the story was. Every character, every scene, every little foreshadowing moment… it all made sense.
Hermione glanced at the paperwork on the table again and shook her head. There was no way she could complete it after reading that novel. She decided to work on it later; for now, she would just wallow in misery over the fact that she had finished the novel.
'So this is how fiction readers feel after finishing a great book…' Hermione thought, waddling absentmindedly over to her bedroom and flopping onto her back on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling and wrapped her arms around herself, soothed by the silky-smooth material of her gown.
Fred laughed and tilted his broom, dodging the ball Ron threw at him. "You need to do better than that, Ronniekins," he taunted, flying over to George's side.
The boys were passing their time by flying in the garden behind the Burrow. Harry had introduced them to the wonderful game of dodgeball—which was very much like dodging Bludgers—and the boys had quickly formed two teams to play. Bill, Percy, and Ron were on one team, and the twins and Harry on the other.
"You throw like a pansy, Bill," George teased, turning himself upside-down just because he could. "Is that what marriage has turned you into?"
Bill cried in indignation as he flung the ball at George's head, but it didn't faze George in the least.
Fred laughed and high-fived his twin before flying closer to the house. He was just about to fly past Ginny's bedroom when he heard voices inside.
"Remember, Mione, walk like you own the damn place." Fred recognised Ginny's voice.
Fleur's voice joined it, "Don't jerk your arms or legs as you move. Also, loosen your hips and let zem sway naturally. You've got gorgeous hips, darling, so please use zem."
Fred's brow furrowed. What were they talking about? He flew closer to peek through the window.
Dressed in a pink frock that cinched at her waist and flowed down to just above her ankles, Hermione was slowly walking around the room, her hands delicately poised by her sides. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders. As she moved, her short sleeves allowed Fred to catch a glimpse of her bare sight of Hermione, in a gown filled his chest with something so strange he couldn't even name it.
Fred had never seen her wear something so… feminine before—not even at the Yule Ball where she had looked so pretty. He remembered that day in vivid detail, and he knew she had worked incredibly hard to tame her wild curls that night. But this… this was all natural. This was all Hermione.
Hermione placed one foot in front of the other, searching for balance, and Fred's heart skipped a beat.
"Flaunt your assets, darling," Fleur said from where she sat on Ginny's bed. "Pull your dress up from one side—up to your knee. And tilt your head to ze side."
"Like this?" Hermione asked, trying to tilt her head. Fred's hands began to sweat when she pulled her frock up so it skirted around the tops of her knees.
"Yes, now give us your best smile, Mione," Ginny said, her tone encouraging.
Hermione beamed. And Fred fell off his broom.
He tumbled to the ground, landing hard among his mother's begonias.
"You're out!" yelled Percy from somewhere up the field. The ball Percy had thrown was bouncing beside Fred's head, but he hadn't even noticed it hitting him.
He was too focused on Hermione. Her coy smile as she twirled around in the flowing dress still swimming in front of his eyes. She didn't have to do anything special, and Fred would still be head over heels for her.
He had barely noticed the throbbing pain that was beginning to blossom in his skull from Percy's ball.
Fred sat upright, rubbing the back of his head, the smile still fixed on his face.
"Looks like you finally broke him, Perce," Ron said, still flying on his broom nearby. Fred didn't look up; he was too busy thinking of Hermione in her pretty pink dress.
Merlin, she looked so beautiful…
The sound of his brothers and Harry howling with laughter startled him, and when Fred finally glanced up at them, he realised he had spoken out loud.
George beamed as he clapped Fred's shoulder. "So you finally noticed our little Hermione's all grown up now, did you?"
"Noticed her?" Fred squeaked out, flinching away. Had he been too careless? Did they suspect something? Did they know how he felt about Hermione? He had been so careful all these years. "What are you talking about?"
George sighed and shook his head. "Alright, you haven't… yet. No problem, I'll soon fix that for you," he muttered under his breath, but his voice easily carried to Fred, who stared at George with wide eyes.
"Come on, up you get," Bill said, helping Fred up and dusting him off. "We don't want Mum to see you destroying her begonias."
Fred absentmindedly nodded and massaged the back of his head, glancing up towards the window. Merlin, how he wished to fly back up and gaze at Hermione as she strutted around the room. She's so adorable, learning how to walk...
The thought of her made his lips turn up into a goofy smile again, and his eyes glazed over as he imagined Hermione modelling her clothes for him.
A man could dream, couldn't he?
"Did you bring it?"
"I've got it right here."
"Good. Are you sure it will work? We don't want anyone to become suspicious."
"Positive. And don't worry about the others. You do your job, and I'll do mine."
"Good luck."
Sitting on the couch in the living room, surrounded by her siblings, Fleur, Harry, and Hermione, Ginny decided it was the perfect time for their attack. She nudged Harry's foot and tilted her head pointedly. Harry nodded knowingly and cleared his throat.
"Why don't we play a game?" Harry's tone was lighthearted, any mischief cleverly hidden.
"What game?" Fred asked, perking up visibly. He sat beside Hermione on the floor, his thigh pressing against hers. Ginny had seen Hermione trying to hide her blush by ducking behind her loose hair every now and then.
Hermione was dressed in the pink frock they had bought while shopping a week ago (Ginny knew for a fact that Fred loved it—George was unable to keep any secrets).
"It's called truth or dare," Harry explained. "It's a Muggle game people play in school. But considering we've never had the chance to, I thought it would be fun. All you have to do is choose to do either a truth or a dare. Then, you ask anyone else the same question. Simple."
"It sounds like a child's game," Percy said, lifting his nose up in the air. Ever since the war had ended, Percy had started to spend more time with the family. Ginny knew it was to make up for what he'd done during the war. She loved him—he was her brother—but she also wished she could hex him right about now. If everyone started to agree with Percy, Ginny and George's plan would go down the drain.
Fortunately, Fleur said, "It sounds interesting enough. It's a good way to figure out all your dirty secrets." Bill gasped in horror at Fleur's declaration. The blonde licked her lips and smirked. "I'm curious."
"So am I," George said quickly, a huge grin on his face. "And I have the perfect way of making sure we say the truth and nothing but the truth. I'll be right back."
He hurried out of the room before returning a minute later with a small vial of clear liquid. Ginny's heart soared in excitement. Their plan was incredibly simple yet brilliant!
"Veritaserum?" Hermione asked, placing her hand on her chest. Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you have a Ministry-controlled substance like that with you?"
George was quick to reply, "We're working on a potion that needs a few drops of Veritaserum."
Hermione glanced at Fred, who nodded in agreement. "Okay..." she trailed off for a moment. "I'm in."
"You are?" Fred asked, his tone incredulous.
"Yes, I am," Hermione said firmly. She sat up and shifted her legs to a more comfortable position. Ginny noticed Fred's expression turning almost puppy-like, and she muffled her giggles behind her hand.
"The game could turn a bit… dirty," George said, leaning closer to Hermione. "Are you sure you're up for it, Granger? You might have to… kiss someone."
"Yes, I want to play, George," Hermione said, extending her hand and batting George away. "I am a Gryffindor, aren't I?"
"You won't mind kissing Percy? Or Ginny?" George asked, his tone mischievous. "Or even Ron?"
Hermione gagged at the thought of kissing Ron and said, "If you don't want me to play, just say so, George." She rolled her eyes and began to stand up.
Ginny panicked. She leapt forward and threw her arms around Hermione's waist. The two women fell onto the ground next to Fred. "NO! STAY!"
Fred pushed Ginny off of her and helped Hermione sit up. "Are you okay?" he asked, reaching up to touch the back of her head. "Does it hurt?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks," Hermione murmured, ducking her head. She gave Fred a small smile.
Fred smiled back before glaring at Ginny. "She could have been seriously hurt, Gin! What were you thinking? Throwing yourself at her like that! She hasn't got muscles like yours."
Ginny pursed her lips to stop herself from saying something stupid like, 'I want her to stay so you can kiss her!'
Harry cleared his throat and asked, "So, is everyone in?"
A chorus of "yeah," and "count me in," resonated through the room. After everyone sat down on the floor, George passed the vial around so they could take a quick sip of the potion. Then, the fun began.
"Percy," Harry said, "truth or dare." When Percy hesitantly chose 'truth', Harry asked, "Who is your secret crush?"
Percy scowled and pursed his lips in an attempt to override the Veritaserum, but the answer spilt forth anyway. "Oliver Wood." He clasped his hands over his mouth, his face glowing red with embarrassment.
"Aww, you two would look so good together," Ginny said with a giggle. She had always suspected Percy was into Oliver—ever since they were at Hogwarts, in fact.
Fred and George nodded along, humming appreciatively, and even though Ron scrunched his nose up, he agreed. Percy's eyes widened at her words, and Ginny snickered, knowing what he was thinking.
"No one cares that you're interested in a man, Perce," Bill said, patting Percy's shoulder. "Ron's just disgusted by the thought of you kissing someone."
Percy's face reddened even further, and he ducked his head. Ginny took pity on him and said, "Your turn, Percy."
Percy gritted his teeth before turning back to Harry. "Truth or dare."
"You can't ask the person who asked you," Harry said quickly. "You have to ask someone else. It's the rule."
Percy narrowed his eyes but turned to Bill. "Truth or dare."
Bill's eyes lit up. "Dare."
Percy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I dare you to let Mum cut off your hair."
Bill paled, and everyone started laughing, including Fleur. Bill shook his head and said, "I can't do that! My beautiful hair! No..."
"Are you a chicken?" Fred and George asked in unison and began making clucking sounds—Ginny couldn't believe they were turning twenty-five years old soon.
"Oh, stop it," Bill grumbled as he got to his feet. "I'm going to get you back, Percy. You just wait and watch."
With that being said, he walked out of the living room towards the kitchen. Their Mum's excited shriek resonated throughout the house, and everyone burst into peals of laughter.
Ginny noticed Fred casually slinking his arm around Hermione's shoulders as he laughed. She gestured to George to look at them—and silently squealed over how cute the couple were. George grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Ginny, and she laughed and repeated the movement.
"What are you two doing?" Ron asked bluntly, glancing between Ginny and George.
"Nothing," Ginny and George said in unison and burst into laughter. Ron simply rolled his eyes and looked away from them.
A few minutes later, Bill's heart-wrenching wails sounded from the kitchen. "My hair! It's gone! Mum, how could you?"
"Oh, honestly, Bill, it's just hair!"
"I'm going to kill you, Percy!" Bill sobbed as he trudged back to the living room.
Ginny started laughing when she saw the buzzcut Bill now sported. Fleur kissed Bill's cheek and said, "I think you look beautiful, mon cheri."
"You look hideous," Percy said, smirking at Bill. "This is payback for what you did to me when I was seven. Remember?"
"You mean when…" Bill trailed off and groaned. "I'll deal with you later. George, truth or dare?"
"Dare. I'm no wuss," George said, straightening up quickly. His eyes glinted with mischief. "Take your best shot!"
"I recently came across a spell that allows the caster to dim the other person's senses. I'll use it on you, and you have to touch everyone's faces to guess who's who," Bill stated, already pulling out his wand.
"You do know the Counter-Curse, don't you?" George asked pointedly.
"Yes, he's well-versed in the Counter-Curse," Fleur said offhandedly, and everyone turned to look at them. Ginny gagged at the inappropriate image in her mind and shook her head to clear it.
Bill quickly said, "Let's just get on with it." He pointed his wand at George and murmured the spell under his breath.
George's nose scrunched up, and he waved his hands in front of his face. "Cool! I can't see."
Bill motioned for them all to switch places. There was a flurry of activity as everyone darted one way or the other. Ginny ended up sitting next to George, and she noticed Fred was still right beside Hermione—although they were now sitting near the fireplace instead of the couch.
George cried, "Hey, that's not fair! How am I supposed to—"
"Start touching our faces." Harry grinned, sitting in between Hermione and Bill.
Groaning, George turned around and almost whacked Fleur's face with his flailing hands. Fortunately, she only inhaled sharply. George patted her cheeks twice before declaring, "Strong cheekbones. That's Fleur."
Ginny's eyes widened at how easily George had answered, but no one dared say a word for fear of losing.
George waved his arms around as he moved closer to Ron. He touched Ron's face, poked him in the eye for good measure (Ron almost snapped George's finger off), and yanked on Ron's hair. "This is Ronniekins. I could smell the sausages on you from a mile away."
"Then why did you poke me in the eye?"
"It's fun," George said. He was unable to dodge the punch Ron threw at him, and he fell back onto his arse. "Oof! Alright, sorry! Sheesh!"
Ginny muffled her laughter behind her hand and watched George make his way around the room. When he finally reached Hermione, George paused.
He stroked Hermione's cheek with the back of his fingers, humming appreciatively. Then, he tilted her head up by her chin and leaned closer, his nose almost pressing against hers.
Hermione's lips twitched, but she didn't say anything. Fred's eyes narrowed in on George's hand, and he looked ready to blow.
Laughter bubbled up in Ginny's throat, but she quickly turned it into a cough as Fred continued to glare at George's hand.
It was only when George ran his thumb over Hermione's lower lip that Fred reached out and smacked George's hand away. George grinned and leaned back. "I'm not even going to answer that. By the way, Hermione, your lips are really soft. I was half-tempted to kiss you."
Fred let out a demonic shriek and lunged at George, knocking him down to the ground.
George cackled and yelled, "You'd hit a blind man, Gred?"
Bill laughed and cast the Counter-Curse on George. "There. You're not blind anymore."
George squealed and covered his face to stop Fred from beating him up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Let me go!"
Fred scowled and snapped, "Don't try that shit again."
"Fine, I won't." George dusted himself off and looked at Fred with narrowed eyes. "I was going to go easy on you, but now that you've attacked me… Truth or dare?"
Fred hesitated. Ginny knew what was going through his mind; his thoughts were visible on his face. If he chose 'truth', George would ask him something embarrassing, but Fred would have to look like a coward for not choosing the riskier option. But if Fred chose 'dare', George would force him to do something even more embarrassing. There was no easy way out for Fred.
Fred glanced at Hermione, who was watching him with curiosity. Finally, he said, "Dare."
George's grin was, in a word, evil. "Kiss Hermione. I dare you."
Kiss Hermione. I dare you.
Fred's heart both leapt at George's demand and plummeted to his stomach. His hands went cold at the thought of finally being able to do the one thing he had been dreaming of for so long, but this wasn't how he had imagined it would happen.
"Fine," Fred snapped, trying to cover the sound of his thundering heart.
Without hesitation, he turned around and found her face, and her mouth was already waiting like a question. Fred's arms trembled as he reached up to cup Hermione's face. He inclined his head and laid his mouth on hers, his eyes fluttering shut.
It was perfect. Hermione's lips were soft and inviting. Fred's tongue easily slid into her mouth, caressing against hers. And Hermione? She did more than just not stop him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
The sound of his siblings coughing awkwardly brought him back to reality. He slowly pulled away from her although he loathed to do so. Hermione's eyes were shut, her skin flushed, and her lips bruised.
I'm in love.
Fred's eyes widened at the realisation, and he choked out a weak, "Merlin's balls…"
Hermione snapped her eyes open and blushed, quickly pulling away from him. Fred's heart ached at the thought of letting her get away from him. His hand shot out on its own accord and grabbed Hermione's wrist.
She tried to tug her hand away, but Fred knew if he let go, she would never meet his eyes again.
He tugged her closer, almost yanking her in his haste, and reached up to cup her face. "Your lips look lonely… Would they like to meet mine again?"
Hermione glanced around the room and then, back at Fred. "Fred? What are you… What are you doing? The dare's over."
"Yeah, and you know you could have just kissed her on the cheek, right, mate?" George asked innocently, and Fred paled.
"I—What?" Fred choked, whirling around to gape at George. He still didn't let go of Hermione's wrist, though. "You told me to kiss her!"
"Yes, I said 'kiss Hermione'," George explained patiently, his lips twitching. Fred's heart thundered against his ribs, knowing what George was about to say next. "I didn't specify where."
There was absolute silence in the living room. Fred stared at George, aware that everyone was staring at him. He tried to think of something witty to say, but all his mind could come up with was, 'You told me to kiss her.'
Fortunately, Harry broke the tension. "How about we take a break now? Come on, Ginny, let's go drink some lemonade. Or just water. Or anything, really."
A wave of relief washed over Fred when everyone shot to their feet and hurried out of the living room. Only Hermione stayed, Fred's fingers still wrapped around her wrist.
The tension was almost palpable; it fizzled and rolled over them in waves. Fred could taste it on his tongue and feel it on his fingertips. Can't she feel it too?
"So… uh, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll give it right back," Fred said, unable to handle the tension any longer.
Hermione stared at him, her eyes wide. "Fred? What's got into you? Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm in love with you," Fred blurted out, the Veritaserum still working its magic.
"Fred, it's not funny," Hermione said, leaning back to look at him through narrowed eyes. "You can't joke about things like these."
Fred glanced around the room and caught sight of the innocuous little vial lying on the table. He let go of Hermione's hand and leapt towards it, his heart beating erratically. If he messed things up… he didn't even want to think about it.
He unstoppered the vial and tilted his head back to chug it down. Hermione cried out, "Fred, no!"
But it was too late.
The clear liquid slid down his throat, and Fred straightened his shoulders as he turned towards Hermione. "Ask me for the truth."
"Why are you so dramatic?" Hermione asked, covering her face with her hands. "You could have just talked to me like a normal human being—"
"I like the attention. It makes me happy," Fred said quickly, wincing as the truth rolled from his lips.
Hermione stared at him before shaking her head. "What do you want?"
"I want a lot of things. I want our business to flourish, and I want people to enjoy using our products, and—"
"What do you want from me?"
"Right now, I want a kiss. Later, a date. And then more dates. And more. And a lot of love and affection," Fred stated. He scooted closer to her and took her hands in his. "I'm in love with you, Hermione Granger. And I want to kiss you possibly forever."
"You can't be in love with me," Hermione whispered, shifting her legs uncomfortably under her. "I'm not your dream girl…"
"Who said you're not my dream girl? Do you remember what I said to you that night?" Fred asked, squeezing her hands as though if he let go, she'd disappear in a puff of smoke.
"Yes, that's why..."
"You've always been my dream girl, Hermione," Fred whispered. "I sort of, maybe, kind of lied to you that night."
"You what?" Hermione leaned back, her eyes widening at his words. "But you were drunk!"
"I was just tipsy. You were drunk," Fred said, the pounding in his chest almost painful. "I didn't lie about wanting someone who values comfort—like you do—but I did lie about wanting someone who doesn't take life too seriously. I mean it's fine if you take life seriously—I'm not going to blame you if you do. You can do whatever the hell you want, and I'll still love you because you're nothing short of my everything."
Fred knew this was going to end up being terribly wrong, but he just couldn't stop himself. His mother had often scolded him for 'leaping before he looked', but Fred's spontaneity had always been his strength. Now it might be a weakness.
Hermione licked her lips and blinked owlishly at him, her eyes almost popping out of her head. "That's… You don't mind me wearing what I used to?"
"Why would I mind? I'm attracted to you-you—not this you. This you is also really pretty, but you-you is the one I fell in love with. You could wear Mum's clothes and still look brilliant," Fred said, his tone full of passion. He didn't even know if she understood what he was saying; Merlin, he himself didn't know what he was saying.
"Oh," Hermione murmured, glancing up at him through her thick eyelashes. Suddenly, she said, "You said you wanted someone who dresses up for herself and not because she has to. At first, I started wearing this"—she motioned to her dress—"because I wanted to see what the fuss was all about, but now… I'm surprised that I actually like these clothes. They're soft and comfortable, yet they make me feel confident in my body. And I don't think I ever want to go back to just wearing what I used to."
"Are you serious? You could wear anything you want if it makes you feel confident!" Fred cried, clasping her hands to his chest. "Wait…" he trailed off as realisation crept up on him. "This was for me? You wanted me to notice you?"
Hermione nibbled on her lower lip and nodded, her cheeks almost as red as a rooster's comb.
She wanted me to notice her…
A smile tugged on Fred's lips, and he allowed it to take over his face. His cheeks stretched taut as he beamed at Hermione. "Does this mean you like me, too?"
"I do," Hermione murmured, ducking her head.
Waves of unruly curls fell over her face, each ringlet swaying hypnotically. Fred let go of her hands just so he could caress her long cinnamon-brown strands. He slid his fingers into her hair, pushing it back with his hands, and cupped the sides of her head. Without a word, he dropped his forehead against hers and whispered, "Merlin, we're both idiots, aren't we?"
"You're dramatic, and I'm self-conscious," Hermione muttered, her lips turning up in a tiny smile. This close, the scent of apple pie and Coke permeated the air around her—it was what they'd had for lunch.
"If you don't kiss me soon, I'll die," Fred whispered, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.
"See? Dramatic," Hermione murmured, but she still closed the minuscule distance between them.
A couple of months later, Ginny found herself back at the Burrow. Her training with the Holyhead Harpies had been brutal that morning and she just wanted to take a hot shower and eat something good.
Pushing the door open, she trudged into her bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks.
Fred sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. Hermione leaned against his chest, reading a book out loud. Fred's arms were lightly wrapped around her waist, and his chin was on her shoulder.
"...It was uncanny how much Lucky looked like Marley and how much the description fit him, too. Full of zip? Problem controlling energy? Working on doggie manners? Patience required? We were well familiar with those euphemisms, having used them ourselves. Our mentally unbalanced dog was back, young and strong again, and wilder than ever. We both stood there, staring at the newspaper, not saying anything," Hermione read out loud. Fred sniffled and buried his face in her neck.
Ginny stared at the scene in front of her and said, "Uhh… What's going on?"
Fred waved Ginny away, sniffling under his breath. "Shh! The story's almost over!" To Hermione, he said softly, "Keep reading, love."
Hermione's lips turned up in a small smile, nodding. She continued reading, and Ginny slowly backed out of the room. She caught sight of Fred gently nuzzling the side of Hermione's neck, and Ginny smiled at the look of pure adoration in both their eyes.
A job well done, if I say so myself. Now… to get Oliver and Percy together. Maybe I could invite him over after our match. George could spike his drink and...