"Fred, you know I…we can't…are you crazy?" Hermione stuttered out. Fred grinned up at her, his earlier nervousness lost and his confidence restored.

"Of course I'm crazy…I'm a Weasley, it comes in the package." He made it sound so simple…so lighthearted and easy. Hermione smiled weakly at him.

"I don't…Fred…" She ran her hands, which were slick with sweat, down her jean covered thighs and bit her bottom lip. "I can't…"

"Hermione-" Fred took both of Hermione's hands in his own and pulled her gently so she was sitting on the floor next to him. He let go of one of her hands and brushed a stray piece of hair across her face, then cupped her face in both of his hands. Hermione couldn't help but notice how large and warm his hands were, and calloused…the hands of a man who worked for a living…but when he held her hands and touched her face, they were just as gentle and smooth as her own. She closed her eyes and looked towards the ground, but Fred gently lifted her face towards his and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Hermione, look at me." His voice was gravelly and deep, and Hermione couldn't resist looking up into his big green eyes. "If our circumstances were different, I would have waited until you were out of school. I would have started hanging around you more and more, eventually I would have gotten brave enough to hold your hand one day while we were walking in Hogsmeade, then I would have asked you out on a date, and prayed that you'd say yes. On that date, I'd be bashful and romantic and pray that everything go perfect, just to please you, and maybe—just maybe—when I took you home at the end of our date, I'd give you a kiss. The first of many that would come, and then…after we'd been dating for a year or more, I'd ask you to be my wife. But I can't do that, we don't have time. I can understand if you say no…you have your whole life ahead of you, but Hermione I need you…I think we can make this work." Fred smiled at her, and wiped away the tears that had started pouring down Hermione's cheeks. She sniffed and Fred let go of her. She looked down to the floor immediately, and Fred pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and gave it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then started to offer it back to Fred.

"You keep it, its okay." He said, smiling. She smiled back. When she regained her composure, she sat up straight and looked Fred in the eye.

"Give me until tomorrow night…I'll send Orion with my answer." She said slowly.

"That's a very adult answer…thank you Hermione." He said, standing and brushing the dust from his back and legs.

"For what? I haven't said yes yet, you know." Hermione said, remaining on the floor, folding the handkerchief and putting it in her pocket.

"For giving me the chance." Fred leaned down and took her head in his hands and kissing her lightly on top of the head before grabbing her hands and lifting her up to her feet. "Now, I think it's about time we got you back to the castle. I'll walk you as far as HoneyDukes, and let you go from there."

Hermione had promised she'd think about it. So she thought…and thought…and thought. Through the next day, Ron was perfectly—not-Ron-like at all. He knew something was wrong. He'd been her friend long enough to sense that much. He apologized at breakfast for being such a prat the night before.

"If you and Fred are…well, that's your business…but I just want you to know Hermione…I love you. Not only as a friend, but…more." Hermione knew he expected her to be shocked and leap into his arms yelling;

"OH RON! I LOVE YOU TOO!" Then kiss him passionately, but she just looked at Ron and shook her head.

"No Ron…" She'd muttered. She'd taken one look at the pain of being rejected in Ron's eyes and knew she'd felt her heart breaking for the first time. She ran upstairs in tears. Ron had come up to her room a little while later and sat on the edge of her bed, talking to her. He told her he'd hope she'd be happy with Fred and he hoped they could still be friends. He'd held her hand while she cried and patted her head. But in the end, when he left an hour later, she was still upset and peaky looking. By the time she went downstairs, she'd missed Herbology and was late to Potions. Snape gleefully deducted 30 points from Gryffindor for her tardiness. Hermione was miserable all day. She'd never been happier to retreat to her room at the end of the day and slip under her covers. Just before she got into bed, she quickly penned a note using her favorite quill and stationary.

Fred—

I've decided. Yes, I'll marry you; let me know when and where.

Yours,

Hermione

She went quickly down to the Owlery and got Orion, her owl that Harry and Ron had given her for her 16th birthday, off his perch. She tied the note to his leg and let him fly through the window. She watched until she couldn't see him anymore, then turned and dragged herself up to her dormitory. Funny—the only thing that had kept her going all day was the thought of the possibly seeing Fred soon—or at least talking to him. Wasn't it ironic how things worked out these days…?

Hermione waited anxiously for three days for a response from Fred. Each morning she could hardly wait until the Owl Post came so she could see what his response would be. On the morning of the fourth day, she was getting somewhat disheartened. She went through her day as usual, Breakfast, Herbology, Potions, DADA, Lunch, Arithmacy, and her Wizarding Business classes. Then she reluctantly followed Harry and Ron out to the Quidditch field to watch them practice for the upcoming game against Ravenclaw. They practiced for three hours while Hermione sat in the stands and did homework with the other non-Quidditch players. She applauded when Ron or Harry made a good move and groaned when they made a bad one. By the time practice was over, it was 10:30 at night, and Hermione was drained. While the rest of the team and their "cheering squad" went to the Great Hall to get dinner, Hermione headed straight upstairs. She was too lazy to put on her pajamas, so she just pulled her sweatshirt over her head and slid out of her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her t-shirt and girl-briefs. She let her clothes fall to the floor next to her bed before sliding into bed herself. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

She'd been asleep hardly five minutes, or so it seemed, when she felt herself being woken up.

"Hermione…" A voice whispered in her ear. "Wake up Hermione…" She groaned and tried to roll over the other way. "Oh no, you've got to get up 'Mione." The voice whispered. She recognized that voice…but who was it. She started trying to remember where she'd heard it before…it wasn't Ginny, and it wasn't Ron or Harry...maybe it was---Hermione shot out of bed. She was still sleepy and disoriented, so when she sat up, she almost fell back down from the dizziness that overcame her.

"Whoa now…" Two strong hands caught her and held her until the room straightened itself up. Her double vision went back to single standards and she shook her head slightly.

"Merlin Fred, what the hell are you doing in my room at 2 o'clock in the morning?" Hermione gasped.

"Duh Hermione…" He muttered, brushing her cheek quickly with his lips. "We're going to get married."