Chapter Twelve

Water War

George watched as Hermione became angrier and angrier, wondering just what had happened up in the dormitory. She'd looked rather pleased with herself when she'd come down; George feverishly hoped his twin was still alive and capable of moving all his limbs. Hermione's hair had been messed up, and the hickey on her neck was rather large—at least, it had been before she'd concealed it. Maybe he'd get a chance to break that charm tomorrow, hopefully without her noticing…

"Why, hello, Fred," Hermione said smoothly, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as Fred entered the common room.

Fred didn't answer; he headed briskly over to George and Lee, grabbed their arms, and strode over towards their dorm. "Time to regroup," he muttered, his eyes squinted with pain.

The moment they entered their dormitory, Fred collapsed on his bed. "Oh, shit, that hurt," he groaned. "I'm starting to feel sorry for You-Know-Who in advance; the guy won't know what hit him when Harry, Ron and Hermione finally face him…"

"Kicked in the crotch, eh?" Lee said wisely.

Fred nodded. "Kneed, actually, the little bint," he growled. "I swear, I'm gonna kill her—"

"Foiled again," George said sadly.

"No, actually," Fred told him, "everything went pretty well, considering." He opened a drawer in his nightstand, pulled out a pain-killing potion he kept around for Quidditch aches and pains, diluted it in a glass of water and gulped some down. "I mean, it all worked out like we planned; Parvati and Lavender came in while I was on top of her on the bed—clothed," he added with a glare as George smirked and Lee suppressed a smile— "and Hermione was absolutely mortified… did anyone see her neck? I thought it'd be a nice touch."

"Loads of people," George said, explaining his little fight with Hermione.

"Good," Fred said when he'd finished, "that's really good… it all went perfect…"

"Except for what went wrong," Lee pointed out, amused. "How'd you end up injured?"

"She tricked me," Fred admitted reluctantly, "caught me off guard and the next thing I know I'm in the fetal position. Still, I think I got her better, you know?"

"Unless you count that impotent crack she made in front of the entire common room," George said, nodding pleasantly. Fred gave him a dirty look.

"Well," Lee said, "this was good. We finally got her, even if she got us back…"

"She didn't do that well," George said. "I mean, with any luck, Fred'll still be able to get her pregnant when they're finally ready to start a family—"

"Oh, shut up," Fred muttered.

The whole school was once again discussing Fred and Hermione; they even seemed to know that Hermione had kneed him in groin at some point, which made Fred even more determined to get Hermione once and for all. George's resolve was also increased; thanks to his little chat with Hermione in front of the common room, particularly the parts about "last night," everyone seemed to think that he'd slept with Hermione as well, especially given the fact that he'd kissed Hermione and claimed to have a crush on her. Even Lee was getting into the fight more, both from amusement and loyalty to his friends.

Unfortunately, they were currently at a stalemate. Fred, George, and Lee were out of ideas, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had decided to wait until after the Christmas holidays to strike again, to avoid having any problems while in the same house as Mrs. Weasley. Both sides were panicked, therefore, when Fred and Hermione received identical notices proclaiming they were to serve another detention on December 12.

Neither side was very successful in the planning department, and Fred and Hermione were forced to just show up, each unprepared for the other. They eyed one another warily as Filch told them to scrub the desktops, floors, and windows in Snape's classroom without magic, then left them to it.

"This is all your fault," Hermione said sullenly as she dunked a sponge in the water bucket and made to clean off a desk.

"My fault? We got detention again because you kissed me, remember?" Fred shot back.

"You still started it, and you know it," Hermione replied, scrubbing hard at a bit of congealed potion.

"I was trying to be nice and carry you upstairs," Fred snapped, slapping his rag so hard on Snape's desk that water went flying. "If I'd known you were going to torment me for the rest of my—"

"Torment you?" Hermione demanded shrilly. "Torment you? Excuse me?"

"You're driving me mad!" Fred shouted. "Rumors and questions and plotting against you, oh yes, we're still plotting, even though George is starting to figure out that all I want to do is kiss you and—" He stopped, quite mortified. Hermione glared at him, uncertain of whether or not to believe him, and bent low over the next desk.

"Don't you try to ignore me!" Fred yelled suddenly. "I've had it! It's true, I'm mad about you, but don't you worry, I'll get you out of my head if it's the last thing I do!" He waved his rag wildly through the air for emphasis… and a bunch of soapy water hit Hermione squarely in the face.

There was utter silence as Fred stared at her, realizing he'd gone too far, even though it had been unintentional; Hermione was furious, glowering at him with water dripping off her face and onto her white sweater…

"AAAAHHHH!" Hermione shrieked, running at him, waving her sponge in wild circles in front of her, water flying everywhere as Fred took off, getting soaked. Fred grabbed one of the buckets, Hermione the other, and an all-out water war ensued.

The two of them chased each other like a pair of angry lions, both of them soon sopping wet and slipping in the suds covering the floor. At one point, Fred pushed himself backward and went sliding all the way across the floor down the center aisle, twirling the rag in front of him in a figure eight motion until it blurred before him, fending off Hermione. Hermione, who was looking both bedraggled and frightening, went skidding after him as she flung the sponge back and forth through the air, letting out guttural howls of rage and splattering him with water.

Fred's back slammed against Snape's desk; not having paid much attention to where he was going, he found himself with nowhere to run as Hermione came ever closer. Desperately, he pushed himself up until he was sitting on the desk and flung what remained in his bucket of water at her, the bucket flying off to the side and a load of water washing over her.

Hermione kept coming; she looked beyond deranged, like some drowned vengeance goddess, completely drenched and with a terrifying, crazed look on her face, her arm straight with the sponge aiming directly at his face as she glided ever closer. Not wanting to find out what it felt like to have a sponge slammed into his face by a girl sliding quickly at him with no intention or ability to stop, he desperately grabbed for her arm and closed his knees in front of him to keep her from getting too close.

It worked; his legs stopped her body and his fingers managed to stop the sponge inches from his face. Enraged at being thwarted, Hermione took her bucket, which was still in her sponge-free hand, and turned it over on Fred's head, water gushing out and soaking him thoroughly, splashing onto the desk and onto Hermione, the bucket's handle a few times thwacking against Hermione's captured arm as the bucket came to a stop on Fred's head.

This left Fred without anything much to say.

Fred stared wretchedly at the sponge just in front of him, trapped under the bucket with his head, still clenched tightly in Hermione's fingers, the edge of the bucket propped on his hand around her wrist. Well, he thought sadly, this is what I get for being a troublemaker all my life. I'm sitting on my least favorite teacher's desk, supposed to be serving detention. I've trashed the room with an impromptu water fight and there's a sponge about to be rammed in my face and a bucket on my head. You know what, God? Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm sorry.

Hermione's fingers opened suddenly, dropping the sponge into his lap, which wasn't an improvement and gave him a few more self-pitying thoughts. Fred slowly lifted up his free hand and took the bucket off his head, letting it fall off the desk behind him with a clatter.

Hermione was staring at him with a horrified look on her face, as though she hadn't realized she was capable of such a thing, as though she had done something purely accidental to land him in such a position. Fred stared at her wearily, as if asking her to end his misery, and her lips twitched with amusement.

"You think this is funny?" he said, giving her a disbelieving look.

Hermione burst into fits of laughter and nodded. Fred's eyes narrowed.

"You think this is funny, do you?" he repeated dangerously. "We've just flooded the classroom—Snape's classroom, of all the classrooms in the castle we flooded Snape's—and you think it's funny?" She nodded again, unable to speak. "We're going to be killed, or at the very least expelled, and you… you dump a bucket on my head and start laughing!"

"Bucket... head..." Hermione gasped out through her laughter. She gripped the edge of the desk with her free hand, sliding a little on the soapy floor and continuing to laugh her head off. Fred glared at her for all of three seconds before he burst out laughing too; he couldn't seem to stop, it was hysterical, they'd just had the funniest fight he could remember having… wait till he told George and Lee, this was just sad…

Hermione slipped again, and Fred reflexively dived forward and threw his arms around her to keep her from falling. Their eyes met… and Fred abruptly reached down, grabbed her waist, and pulled her onto the desk with him, Hermione sitting on him, their lips meeting feverishly for a wet, soapy kiss, and then an outraged bellow sounded from the doorway—

"GET OFF MY DESK!"