Hermione walked around, looking at the room that would be hers for the next three months. She picked her book bag up off the floor and put it on the bed, next to the rest of her bags. She decided she'd be nosy…just this once…and poke around in Fred's room. She walked over to the closet next to the bed and opened the door. Fairly neat; a few button up shirts, a set of dress robes, school robes, and a robe hung neatly on hangers. Hermione smiled. Mess around; irresponsible Fred would be Mr. Neat. He'd always insisted on being the exact opposite of what people expected of him. She shut the door, and walked over to the dresser. Of course, the books called to her. She looked at them closely, and then pulled Fred Weasley: a Life off the shelf. She thumbed through it quickly, but then Mrs. Weasley called from downstairs.
"Everyone hurry up and get unpacked! I need help getting the dinner ready!"
Hermione slid the book back in its original place on the dresser top, making a mental note to look at it later. She quickly put her folded clothes into the drawers, slid them shut and stashed her bags in the closet. She put her journal and few books into the drawer with her skirts and pants, sliding them under a pair of her favorite jeans, hiding them from view. Then she ran downstairs to help Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen.
That night, about ten-thirty, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, Harry, and Ron came dragging in from outside. They'd been playing Quidditch since eight o'clock and were completely exhausted. Hermione and Ginny each called the two upstairs bathrooms, rushing up and getting in for a nice long soak, while the boys went to Ron and Harry's room to wait their turn. Soon they were all draped around the room; Ron was on the floor, leaning against the side of his bed, George was lying on his back on the bed, Fred was sprawled out on the floor and Harry was leaning on the wall near the door. They compared Quidditch strategies they'd heard, talked about Fred and George's joke shop, talked about Hogwarts, and finally settled on a topic everyone, especially Ron, enjoyed…Hermione.
"I never thought Hermione would grow up and look so—well, hot!" George said, grinning at Fred. "Don't you agree?" Fred nodded, but didn't make much of a response.
"She's very attractive, I'll give you that." He muttered, looking at his watch. It had been a long day, and he was ready to go to bed, even if it was early.
"She's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on." Ron said quietly, absently running his hand through his hair, deep in thought. Harry laughed.
"We all know you've got it bad, Mate." He said, causing George to laugh as well, then Fred to chuckle, and finally Ron to smile.
"What are you going to do about it?" George asked, shifting, making the bed shake.
"I don't know…" Ron muttered.
"You better act fast or somebody else will snatch her up!" George said loudly. George was usually the calmer, quieter of the two, but today, for some reason, he was being very un-George-ly loud and obnoxious. Nobody said anything. It was quiet, and they all took advantage of the silence to think to themselves. It takes a strong brotherhood, or friendship in Harry's case, to be able to tolerate silence without feeling uncomfortable. They were all lost in their own thoughts, thinking of someone special, of their lives, of their aches and their longings. Their solitude was interrupted by three short raps on the door. All at once, their eyes snapped to the door as it opened and Ginny popped her head in. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and her face was free of makeup, dirt, and mud.
"Bathroom's all yours boys. Hermione's out too." She said sweetly, then left, leaving the door open behind her. Fred and George looked at each other.
"Reckon it's our turn?" George said to Fred.
"Yes, I do." Fred replied. They stood up and stretched, then headed through the door, shutting it behind them. George went in one bathroom, and Fred went into the other. After shutting the door behind him, Fred switched on the shower, tested the temperature, stripped off his muddy clothes, and hopped in. After washing his hair and face, along with the rest of his body, he turned off the shower head and reached for his towel.
"Damn" He thought, "I left my robe in my room, but Hermione's in there now! Oh well…I'll just have to go get it I guess. Hope she doesn't mind..." He wrapped his towel around his waist, picked up his dirty clothes, and made his way towards his—or Hermione's—room. He dropped his clothes in the laundry shoot outside the bathroom door. He gave three quick raps on the door.
"Hmm?" Hermione said from inside the room.
"Hermione, it's me—Fred—I left my robe in there and I need to come in and get it."
"Oh, okay, come on in." She said from inside. Fred turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. She was sitting up in his bed, hair falling around her face in damp, dark curls, in a pink nightdress. She had the covers pulled up high, her knees pulled to her chest, and a book leaning on her knees. He took a moment to note that George was right, she was very attractive, but then quickly averted his eyes, and walked to the closet and got his robe. He turned back around and saw Hermione looking at him with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.
"What?" He asked, and then looked down. He was wearing a towel. Only a towel…
