A Moment Alone

"And Harry has been keeping an eye on Draco Malfoy ever since…" Hermione finished the long story just as they reached the Room of Requirement. They knew they couldn't just go to the common room, for Ron would probably have found the nerve to pick the inevitable fight.

"Honestly, though, I really don't know why he'd bother to crash Slughorn's party. Although Harry did find out he was a bit sore at not being recognized for his family's greatness." Hermione explained. Fred had paced back and forth, calling the magical room came into view. He held open the door for her with a flourish.

The room, always in tune with the desires of the one who called upon it, was smaller than she'd ever seen it before. It held a few bookshelves, a merrily crackling fireplace, and a few squishy couches and chairs. It looked like a very cozy spot to hang out.

"Well, have you ever considered that Harry might be right?" Fred said thoughtfully. He sat in a most comfortable looking arm chair, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He looked on edge, and there was no trace of a smile on his face.

"What? You mean that Malfoy might be a...might be working for You-Know-Who?" Hermione looked at him as though he'd grown a second head. "Of course not. Why in the world would he be a Death Eater?"

"Why would it surprise you so much? The Headmaster is basically doing the same thing…" Fred pointed out.

"No. No, that's not true. I mean…" Hermione found she couldn't argue. Harry had told her himself that the prophecy had named him as the one who had to finish off Voldemort. Hermione could feel her anxiety rising. It all seemed so real, lately. Cloak and dagger games, spies, necklaces that almost killed classmates. It was all part of war, and yet Hermione had spent so much energy trying to pretend that life was going on as normal. She buried herself in her books, her work, just so she could pretend that everything was ok.

"You're right…" She said at last, stifling an anxious cry. She wiped her eyes swiftly, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to fall, but Fred had already stood and walked to her. He pulled her into a strong hug, one arm around her shoulders and one gently cradling her head into his chest. "When did everything fall apart so thoroughly?" She sobbed into his shirt.

"When you decided to befriend the "Chosen One", I'm afraid," Fred said in a soothing voice. "It just shows how wonderful you are, though. You've stuck with a boy who's got a literal mark for death. And you don't complain about it. Even though, maybe you should occasionally. Because bottling it up like this can't be healthy."

"I wish I could be as carefree as you Fred. I wish that I could see the world as you do. With rainbow colored glasses and a sense of humor." She told him. He set her at arm's length, and looked deeply into her eyes. The corners of his mouth were firmly set.

"Hermione, I laugh because otherwise I'd cry. You don't think I worry? George and I make jokes and try to keep everything light because we know it's necessary. But I think every day about Mum and Dad. I worry that someone might go after them, blood traitors that they are. I worry about Ron and Ginny, off at school where it seems something bad happens every year. We've almost lost them both! And I worry about you and Harry. You both just seem to jump right into everything that could kill you with reckless abandon!"

"Not reckless...I've always got a plan..." Hermione said, her voice thick with tears, and she let out a small hiccough of laughter.

"You stubborn pain in the arse…" Fred exclaimed, then leaned down to capture her lips in a rough kiss. She returned it immediately. Her hands travelled up to touch his arms. They were solid and strong. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her in close. He swayed slightly, like a dance to music in his own head. She found it easy to follow along to the unsung rhythm as they swayed and kissed.

Gently he took off her robe, leaving her in just the black dress. Her arms were deliciously bare, and he ran his hand softly up and down her suntanned flesh. He parted from her lips, and began to kiss her bare shoulder with feather light touches of his lips. She shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on her arms. She surprised him by kissing along his neck and up to his jawline. At the back of his mind, he realized she was following the constellation of his larger freckles, giving each one a brush with her soft lips. He made a small sound in his throat.

Her brain felt fuzzy. This wasn't a moment she could plan out or calculate. He kissed and she responded, and it felt almost out of body. He had a wonderful line of freckles that climbed his neck, moving from the hollow of his shoulder to his pulse point, and finally settling along his jaw. She felt something in her stir when he made a slight hum at her touch, and for the first time she felt like she might just understand why people could get addicted to a feeling like this.

"If you keep kissing me like that, I hope you don't expect me to stay on my feet, little lion." Fred whispered, pulling her gently toward one of the couches. He sat down easily, but she hesitated. "Hermione, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I would just like to kiss you some more without standing. Nothing more, okay?"

She climbed onto the couch, careful to make sure her dress stayed properly arranged, and leaned back in to kiss him. Her hand wandered across his chest, drawing large and lazy circles over the fabric of his shirt. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and pulled them into a reclining position so that she was laying across him. He made a comfortable cushion, she decided, and they dove back into their gentle exploration.

For just a moment, Hermione was able to live in the moment. A moment alone with Fred, and she was able to feel normal as nothing else had allowed her to feel. As they cuddled warmly, staring at the fire and diving back into the occasional breath stealing snog session, she prayed that more moments like this lay ahead of them.

Fred's mine must have wandered to a similar thought at some point, and just as she was falling into the hazy stupor that precedes sleep he asked her a question.

"Hm?" She asked, not having heard him.

"I asked if you wanted to visit over Christmas holiday? I know you won't be going to the Burrow to stay, because of Ron, but I want to see you. Will you come visit?" Fred's face was an adorably sleepy brand of hopeful.

"To the Wheezes? Or to the Burrow?" She asked, waking back up slightly.

"Both? Or either. Whichever you're alright with. I just want to make sure we have as much time together as we can, Hermione. I've been having these feelings lately...maybe it's the streak of intuition we all get from our Great Aunt Periwinkle, but I just feel like you're going to be headed somewhere soon. Somewhere I won't be able to follow…" Fred told her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Fred…" She told him. "But I would love to visit over the break. I'll visit my parents for a bit, then I'll come out. As long as George won't mind."

"If we even see him. Between work and the time he spends with Angelina, he's been gone a lot as of late." Fred confessed.

"Well, either way. As long as he's alright with it, I'll be there." She told him. Then she snuggled deeply into the space between his arm and chest and closed her eyes. Fred pulled her into a tight embrace, and for the first time in a while he fell asleep without any dreams to fill him with worry.