AN: Guys, I'm really sorry I just keep writing different stories and I can't stop. Don't worry, I am working on my other fics, they're all in progress I swear. Things need to be added there, tweaked here and it can all be a lot sometimes so I get to them when I can. I'd never written, nor read a Fremione fic before, but all of a sudden I just jumped right into it and now I'm totally a shipper. Usually I write Dramione fics, I've always written Dramione but as most of us, my tastes sometimes wander. I'm really into Fred Weasley right now, I just am, okay? Sometimes I want to read about Snape, sometimes I'll read a Sirius or Tom Riddle fic but when it comes to writing its consistently been Draco and Hermione for me.

So I wanted to step out of my comfort zone a bit. This idea just came into mind, basically because I was trying to think of a somewhat realistic, hot way for Fred and Hermione to get together. This was what my rubbish brain came up with, so I'm terribly sorry if you find it awful! The title I came up with sucks too so that's one thing that's subject to change.

I took a few liberties and made up some shit about Arthur having a work-shop in the barn and then I decided to add some piggys but I'm pretty sure that's all that's completely out of the ordinary. I wanted there to be pigs, so there are. There is absolutely no reason for it.

This fic takes place after fifth year. I probably won't be showcasing too many of the characters because let's face it, I wanna get to the good stuff as quickly as possible. I just really feel as if I just don't have time right now for all these slow-burns and thick plots, ya know what I mean? Thank you.

I'm warning everybody now, there is some slight Ron Weasley bashing. I apologize to my earlier readers if that wasn't made clear, because in fact, I hadn't realized I was Ron bashing. The reason for this is because yes, in this story he's getting picked on a lot by his siblings and Hermione found it mildly funny but even so, she still has feelings for Ron here. What I had assumed bashing was when it came to Ron, was when you had Hermione outright not want to be with Ron because of claiming he's "less intelligent" than her or otherwise and then practically breaking up with him for no reason. I didn't think having humorous, somewhat mean stuff happening to Ron was bashing but I understand that now. I personally love Ron, he's one of the best characters in the books, I don't mean to bash him on purpose - that's just sort of where my ships take me sometimes. So very sorry.

This is a very mature, explicit story with crude language and themes. I do not own any rights to a single thing. J.K. Rowling – you are the ruler of my world. She owns it all, baby. You've been officially advised.

Those Summer Nights
Chapter One
-o-

August 7th, 1996

It was a particularly hot day in Ottery St. Catchpole, the arid atmosphere more dry and choking rather than damp and muggy as it occasionally got in England during the summer. Hermione had only just arrived at the Burrow the evening before, having been in Italy with her parents for most of the holiday. Just then she was strolling out to the rickety barn for some much-needed solitude, away from the boisterous clatter and chatter of the house.

Hermione didn't mind the pigs or the chickens; she found the soft grunts and clucks from the farm animals somehow comforting, not to mention the barn was a fair place to be when it was hot outside for Mr. Weasley had it littered about with several old, muggle fans. Operated by magic but regardless, they offered cool relief from the scorching sun.

The portly swath-dwellers inside greeted her cheerfully as she made her way to the back of the barn to a sequestered area where Arthur kept one of his work-stations. Beside all of his doohickey widgets and whirligigs – which consisted of non-magical objects and other experimental devices – was a muggle freezer (also running on magic) with random bits of fresh produce inside as well as a surprisingly comfortable, but very hay-covered couch. There were several mismatched surfaces, including an end table made of stacked crates, a hand-carved, oaken coffee table and a large antique wardrobe that appeared to be from the late nineteenth century.

First Hermione went to the coffee table – where there was an array of magical and muggle magazines and literature for her to choose from – and once she had something good picked out settled herself on top of the freezer for an added chill. Today she chose to wear a simple, yet flowing high-waist skirt that was a deep brown shade and tucked in a peach-hued, Henley tank-top that really made her dark tan stand out. Her rich chestnut curls were topped on her head in a messy bun which she put effort in to stay in place and out of her face as best she could. On her feet she donned a pair of simple brown sandals that matched.

Inside at the house everyone was restless and bored, so it was no shock to Hermione when she heard multiple rambunctious voices outside beyond the barn. Nobody came inside where she was however and so Hermione surmised they were all happily playing Quidditch and rough-housing, as they were often prone to do after lunch.

Even the twins, Fred and George had stopped by for a well-deserved break from their brand new shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They were both at the burrow for the night but would be taking shifts all week working at the store with the help of their employee Verity. Hermione couldn't wait to see how much the brother's hard work had paid off; she hadn't yet to witness the wonder of it but had heard much word of its fresh success thus far.

She couldn't help but smile, a dreamy sigh leaving her of her own volition, 'Those two,' she thought. 'Countless moments berating George and Fred for all their risky innovations but now look at them,'

Hermione continued her leisurely reading of The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie, the mystery novel she'd decided on from the piles upon the table. There was a startled yelp of pain from out in the yard and Hermione jolted, almost leaving her spot on the freezer to check on things but stopped as she heard the roar of hysterical laughter that followed. Should she go see what they've gotten up to now? No… she was curious of course, but not enough to budge from her cozy little hideaway. Plus she heard Molly's squawking and was hopeful the shenanigans were under control.

Minutes later and she heard footsteps approaching, the tall figure of Fred Weasley materializing before her from around the corner. He'd been headed straight for the freezer but halted immediately when he caught sight of her sitting there. His bronze eyes sparkled as he saw her, a sly smirk dancing on his lips, "That's where you got to! Sneaking back here again for some light reading?" Hermione found herself blushing as he playfully plopped down beside her and wrapped a warm arm around her shoulders. His demeanor was casual as ever yet she couldn't fathom why this somehow felt different than all of their friendly embraces before.

He was most definitely a grown wizard now and no longer just another one of her peers at Hogwarts. Now that she herself was almost seventeen, what once would have been a simple hug seemed far more intimate than Hermione could have ever predicted it would. Did Fred know how this was making her feel? She certainly had no idea she'd ever befall this reaction to an otherwise platonic show of affection, especially from one of the twin's, not that she didn't appreciate good-looks when she saw them.

And Fred was good-looking, both he and his identical brother.

They had always seemed attractive enough to Hermione, yet she rarely entertained these thoughts. She'd always been so wrapped up in Ronald she hadn't paid much attention to his siblings, not in that way. Ron and she were in the same year at Hogwarts after all, so naturally it felt right to want him, to want to be together romantically with her dearest friend.

Yet it certainly wasn't like Ron ever made much effort to show her that he fancied her back. Really, it was still very much up in the air. She was hopeful though but in the meantime, Hermione didn't think it'd hurt to sit there and admire his older brother's incredibly fit physique and notably sultry stare.

It wasn't as if anything would ever come of it. Fred's flirting was typically harmless and it'd be bizarre for her to think he might ever be genuinely interested. He'd always fancied girls like Angelina, the witches who were more athletically-inclined. Hermione was sure of that.

"You completely just missed it," Fred went on melodramatically when she didn't right away say anything. "So Ron, you know, the same Ron who's pushed everyone's buttons all day, see he actually managed to knock Ginny off her broom, right? On purpose. That like, never happens, she always flies circles around him. He had her take quite the spill there, her face smashing right in the dirt so she was reasonably enraged. Then before we knew it, Ron's white briefs were charmed right out the top of his britches, hoisted him up and she had him dangling in the air by his drawers," he flung his free hand in front of them for visual of how high Ron had been, chuckling in delight from the memory and Hermione laughed along with him, imagining how it all must have looked. "Absolutely brilliant, it was. Never saw anything like it. Don't recommend it though,"

Hermione's brow quirked, "He's having trouble walking now, isn't he?"

"Trouble walking is an understatement. The poor bloke couldn't even stand back up again for almost three whole minutes,"

"Oh dear," Hermione sighed exasperatedly, readying herself for a long evening of a whining, whimpering and complaining Ronald. She did pray he'd be alright, though. Something like that could be pretty detrimental to the… nether regions so she hoped the damage was nothing permanent. However much of an arse he may be, Ronald did not deserve to go through something like that. She reminded herself to have a chat with Ginny about it later although Mrs. Weasley had probably given her plenty of punishment for it anyway.

"Yes well, mum's not happy with us. Sent me in here to get the frozen chickens from the freezer," he tugged teasingly at one of her loose curls that'd fallen and she giggled, "So you, little Granger, happen to be perched right where I need to be,"

Hermione made to move so he could get to the chicken inside but Fred's arm wouldn't leave her, his hand grasping her shoulder and firmly keeping her seated next to him. She blinked up at him, befuddled. "Um… yes?" she questioned tentatively, noticing how serious his expression had become as his eyes drilled into hers. She could have squeaked in terror from the sudden intensity of his gaze.

Fred swallowed down a pesky lump of nerves. He could tell she seemed somewhat frightened under his close scrutiny but if truth be told he just wanted to get a good look at her. As it were, he'd found he rather missed the younger witch and wanted to make it a point to spend some time with her while he was visiting the Burrow. "Sorry, s'just I can't believe how much you've grown. You're not exactly our little Granger anymore, are you?" he chortled.

"No, I mean I suppose I'm not," she agreed after a moment, her mouth spreading into a bashful grin. "I'll be of-age in only a few weeks, after all."

"That's right," Fred said, as if he'd just remembered how old she was. "You've got nearly a year on my brother, I forgot about that,"

"Yup," Hermione replied, over-pronouncing her "p" with a pop of her lips.

Fred's stare lingered on those lips, longer than he intended before his eyes found hers again. He wasn't moving away yet, which was making her feel exceedingly more vulnerable as the seconds ticked on. His musky scent was ever rolling off him in waves at her but it wasn't repugnant, no. On the contrary, his combination of sweat and earth and everything that made up Fred Weasley was all very sensual, very inviting.

The look on his face was completely pensive, his thoughts a galaxy away but his face… he was so close, she could feel him breathing. He exhaled in tiny, shaking puffs that careened across her skin. Without her permission she felt her chest prickling with gooseflesh and despite having worn a brassiere beneath her top, the material was delicate, thin. Instantly Hermione knew that her much too sensitive nipples had just hardened to little pebbles and by the way Fred's gaze swept downward she could tell they were prominent and protruding beneath the fabric of her shirt, clearly visible.

His eyes darted back to hers; the usual amber-brown had greatly darkened, swirling with what Hermione thought might be something akin to lust.

But it wasn't something just akin to lust, it was lust. Fred was attempting to wrap his mind around how the perkiest, most luscious looking set of breasts he'd ever had the pleasure of glimpsing (even with clothes covering them) had fallen under his radar this whole time.

Granger was on his radar now, oh Merlin's pants, she was. It wasn't as if Fred didn't think she was gorgeous before, he wasn't stupid, or blind but… she was practically a little sister to him, the girl whom ickle Ronnikin's had long crushed over yet was too daft to make a move on. Hell, he'd always taken the mickey out of him for it. Being this attracted to Granger would be weird, wouldn't it? It'd be positively shameful.

Of course, he rather liked when things got a little weird every now and again, and shameful? Shameful, he could live with…

The small witch in his arms did not push him from her, or get angry in the least like he would have guessed she would from catching him blatantly leering. Instead an endearing pink flush saturated her freckled cheeks, saturated her neck as well as the delectable expanse of her décolletage where the attractive mounds of her bosom heaved deliciously with every staggering breath she took. She liked the way he looked at her, he was almost certain but he would have to test the waters.

Hesitantly, dangerously, Fred reached his free hand up, ever so gingerly letting his long fingers graze down the side of Hermione's arm to the dip of her elbow. At his touch an involuntary shiver ran along her spine, at once trembling from the onslaught of a second wave of gooseflesh. Her pebbled buds were now straining painfully against her measly shirt and Fred bit his bottom lip excitedly from his awareness of her reaction. He began trailing his knuckles back over the way he'd went, up this time. Once to her shoulder, her breath hitched as he boldly continued across her collarbone where he deftly, tantalizingly let the tips of his digits skim tenderly the very tops of her pert bust.

His cock lurched inside his trousers, already taut and stiffening; the way her skin felt softer, more buttery than he could have ever imagined. Like angora silk, nothing he felt able to describe. He couldn't believe she was letting him touch her like this. She was no longer peering at him, Hermione finding it hard to watch him as he hungrily perused her. If she looked at him she was afraid she might want him to snog her. She was afraid she already did.

Then just like that his fingers ceased their calculated caresses and Hermione, almost pouting from the loss, willed herself to lock her gaze with his again. "Well, I should probably be getting that chicken," Fred drawled slowly, regret clearly in his tone. Having to go back into an almost full-house of volatile individuals was the last thing he wanted to do, but his mum was preparing dinner and he didn't need anyone getting all suspicious. Yes, this new and unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome infatuation for Granger was already proving to be tricky business. Thankfully, tricky business was Fred's native tongue.

Hermione let out a small laugh, surprising herself a little at how openly school-girlish she felt. "Probably," she responded, maneuvering away from his arms and hopping off of the freezer. Hermione absolutely did not notice at all, how Fred observed with inner glee how her round bum jiggled scrumptiously as she teetered out of her sitting position.

Quickly he stood, getting his bearings in order while he opened up the freezer and took out the requested amount of poultry. Before turning heel he asked, "You comin'?"

Hermione shook her head, "I'll be in soon, I… I just want to finish this chapter," she half-lied. Hermione did yearn for her alone time but really, she wanted to relive what just happened over again in her head, to try and make sense of it all if possible. Most likely, this had been a mistake, a dire one she ought to forget and never think on again but a different part of her, a side of her she wasn't familiar with, had whole-heartedly wanted whatever had been going on just then with her and the Weasley twin.

Fred nodded, an unreadable expression adorning his features and with a loud crack he was gone, disapparated to the house.

-o-

AN: Did you hate it? Was it garbage? Like I said, this is my first go at a Fremione fic so I'm expecting the worst. Your feedback – I need it, I love it. It helps me stay inspired! This is definitely a multi-chapter story, though I'm not sure how many. It's Thursday but I hope you lovelies have a fantastic weekend and thank you so much for reading :0)