Seventeen

Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom

Right after dinner on Monday, Hermione and Fred reported to McGonagall's office for the first of their detentions. Neither was very happy to learn that they would spend the week cleaning various bathrooms around the castle.

They started on the second floor, most unfortunately with Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Fred, being a guy, had never met Moaning Myrtle before, and Hermione wasn't speaking to him, so he wasn't forewarned about Myrtle and managed to offend her in about ten seconds and send her off crying. "Lunatic," Fred muttered, glad she was gone and disgusted that she'd disappeared down the toilet. "Even dead girls are crazy."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped, rising to the bait before she could stop herself.

Fred grinned, pleased that he had provoked her... and hoping that this fight would end like their previous ones. "That every female on the face of the earth is a complete whack job, you in particular."

"Excuse me? You're the crazy one, running around spreading rumors about—"

"How was I to know the whole school would be interested in that?" Fred demanded.

"The whole school always is!"

"Since when?"

"Since always! Every time I come in the bathroom or anywhere where there's a big group of giggling girls it's some stupid new rumor." Hermione batted her eyelashes and adopted a sickly-sweet tone. "'Oh, isn't so and so cute?' 'Did you hear what Malfoy did with that Ravenclaw girl?' 'Oh, I do miss Oliver Wood, he was hot.' 'Guess who Lavender got caught with in that unused classroom on the fifth floor!' They always talk about stuff like that!"

"You mean the girls do. See? It's the girls. They're insane."

"We're insane? Hello, you kissed me in front of dozens of people! And SNAPE! For no reason!"

"Yeah, but you kissed me in front of dozens of people for no reason," Fred retorted. "And when we were alone. And when it was just me, you, Lee, and George... oh, I'm sorry, that was George you kissed, my bad."

"Oh, don't even get me started on George! The point is you were insane—not to mention idiotic—to start rumors like that and not expect everyone to—!"

"Well, I forgot that you were such a bookwormy little prude that everyone would be so shocked and talk about it for the rest of our lives!" Fred bellowed, interrupting her.

Hermione dropped her cleaning supplies and glared at him dangerously. "What did you just call me?!"

"A bookwormy little prude," Fred repeated calmly, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

Hermione marched towards him. "How dare you!"

"Well, it's true," Fred said rudely. "You're a bookworm and a prude."

She glared at him. "I am not."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"Take it back!" Hermione growled.

"No," Fred said, his grin widening. Oh, please let her try to prove she's not a prude, he thought hopefully. Come on, Hermione...

Hermione grabbed his shirt. "That's it, I've had it with you!" she yelled. "I'm going to do what I should have done ages ago!"

"What might that be?" Fred said mockingly.

Hermione drew back her fist. Oh, hell, Fred thought desperately, that's not what I was aiming for at all... grab her! Stop her! Or they'll never find my corpse!

Fred took his own advice and pulled her against him; Hermione yelped and dropped her arm to push against him. She started to yell at him, but before she could get the words out he was kissing her again.

Hermione tried to keep control of herself; she pushed against his chest for a few moments before giving up and reciprocating his kiss, her shoves turning into a caress as she ran her hands over him. Fred slid his hands down to rest on her ass, surprised when she didn't pull away. He knew that, like their first kiss, he was probably going to get it once she snapped out of it, so he regretfully cut his losses and pulled back while she was still in the dazed stage. He kept his hands on her ass, looking down at her smugly; she'd yet to open her eyes.

"Okay, I take it back," he told her, "but you are still a bookworm."

With that, he pinched her butt and let her go; Hermione jumped, her eyes flying open as he stepped away, calmly walked over to the discarded cleaning supplies and knelt to pick them up.

"You know what?" Hermione said irritably, eyes narrowed. "That's the last straw."

Fred wasn't quite sure how it happened; one minute, he was kneeling next to a bottle of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, and the next he was flat on his back and Hermione was on top of him, her tongue in his mouth and the various cleaning supplies rolling across the bathroom floor. He wasn't about to complain, however; he let his hands wander over her body, and she made no move to stop him. Hermione moaned when he started fondling her over her robes, leaning away from him and tilting her head back, smiling. Fred watched her, his eyes half lidded, then gently began to push her onto her back and climb on top of her. His hands had just returned to her breasts when the door opened; both of them immediately jerked in surprise and stared up at the large, hulking figure of Millicent Bulstrode, who had a cigarette in her mouth and a match halfway raised to light up when she caught sight of Fred and Hermione.

Millicent stared for a long moment and then dropped the unlit match, stuffed the cigarette back in its pack and bolted out the door. "Hey, Pansy!" they could hear her yelling down the hallway. "Guess who's having sex in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!"

Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands; Fred, however, burst out laughing. "Oh, that was priceless," he laughed. "Did you see her face?" He looked down at Hermione, who was giving him a weary, exasperated look. His expression softened and he leaned down to kiss her neck. "One of these days, we're going to have to do this in a place where we won't be interrupted," he whispered in her ear.

Hermione swallowed. "Fred... in about three seconds, that door's going to open and fifty people are going to walk in here..."

"So what?" he said softly. "Let them watch. I don't give a damn who sees what or who says what, I haven't kissed you in ages."

Hermione shivered as he pressed himself against her. She forced herself to think straight. "What do you mean, one of these days?" she asked, trying to sound more composed than she felt as Fred sucked on her neck.

"One of these days," he repeated. "As in sometime in the future... when we've stopped playing games."

"What makes you think that'll happen?" she whispered, dying to touch him but doing her best to stop herself.

"It'll happen," he murmured against her collar bone. "I'm going to make sure of it. I'll play this game as long as you want, but when it's over, no matter who wins, you're going to be mine."

He leaned up to look in her eyes hungrily. Hermione licked her lips and Fred's gaze was drawn to the action; he stared at her mouth for a long moment before lowering his lips to hers.

Hermione kissed him for a while, letting go of her thoughts and running her hands over the muscles in his back. Then, gently, she started to push him away. Fred let her, rolling off of her so she could stand up. Wordlessly, he started to gather the discarded bottles of cleaning solution.

McGonagall came by only a few seconds later, her eyes narrowed as she took in Fred scrubbing graffiti off the wall and Hermione wiping down one of the sinks. "Weasley, you can go," McGonagall barked. Fred nodded and left without a word. Hermione bit her lip, staring up at the Transfiguration professor with trepidation. "I just want you to know," McGonagall said slowly, "that I'm not asking about this one. Go on, back to the common room."

Hermione gave her a thankful smile and left, careful to walk slowly as to avoid catching up with Fred. She had a lot to think about now, and she wasn't sure she was still playing games with him. Part of her... okay, most of her... really wanted Fred. Somewhere, in between annoying her to death and kissing her, he'd gotten under her skin. She knew it wasn't about revenge anymore, not really... it was about getting her hands on him. Revenge had become their excuse, not their motive.

Unfortunately, she had no idea how to tell Harry, Ron, and Ginny that... or, for that matter, Fred.

When she made it into the common room, everyone was whispering and pointing at her, save Harry, Ron and Ginny, who were all waiting with their eyebrows raised and their arms crossed over their chest. Fred was no where in sight. Gulping, Hermione approached her friends.

"What kind of person," Ron said in a carefully controlled tone, "has sex in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said, blushing. "I wasn't having sex, in the bathroom or anywhere else."

"Yeah?" Ron said, looking angry now. "Then how come you keep getting caught doing it?"

"Ron—"

"I don't know what's going on between you and Fred," Ron snapped, interrupting, "but I don't think you're being honest with us. Everyone's been talking about this for ages, and I'm starting to believe it myself. You've kissed him how many times now?"

Hermione sighed. She didn't want to lie to Ron, and somehow she felt that saying that there was nothing between her and Fred would be just that. "Ron... I... it's... well..."

Ron seemed to take her stammering for an admission of guilt. "You know what, Hermione? When you're ready to tell me the truth, let me know." With that, he stomped off to his dormitory.

"I'd better go calm him down," Harry said, sighing.

"No... I don't think this is a guy moment," Ginny said. "I'll go."

Hermione sat down wearily across from Harry, who was giving her a thoughtful look. "What?" she said finally.

Harry didn't reply for a moment. "You should go talk to him," he said suddenly.

"Ron won't listen to me now. He's too upset. I'll wait for Ginny to calm him down and then—"

"I'm not talking about Ron," Harry interrupted. "I'm talking about Fred."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"It doesn't take a genius, Hermione," Harry said quietly. "You fancy him."

"I do not!" Hermione retorted automatically.

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry said, exasperated. "This is me, okay? Cut the crap. You like Fred. You probably have for a while now, you just won't admit it, to us, to yourself—well, Hermione, no matter what, you need to admit it to Fred."

Hermione stared at him before a warm smile spread over her face. Why was she playing around with Fred? He liked her, she knew he did, she was just too insecure about it to let herself believe it. She liked him, too. She really did—she had always liked him as a friend, even if he got on her nerves or broke every rule conceivable. Now she liked him in a different way.

Ron would get over it, eventually. She couldn't deny she liked him too, but were they really that well-matched? Always fighting, with none of the same interests... and it wasn't like neither of them had ever liked anyone else. Hermione had had numerous crushes besides Ron, and she'd suspected him of liking one or two other girls; it wasn't like they were in love. Besides, Harry would support her, no matter what, and so would Ginny. She should just march right up there and ask Fred to go out with her... well, no; she should lure him away from Lee and George, and then get him alone and ask him to go out with her... he'd say yes, she knew he would... Harry was right. Hermione had to talk to him, now. Before he could start thinking that her asking him out was part of the game, when he could still see that she was thinking only about what he'd said in the bathroom.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, standing up.

"That's what friends are for," Harry replied, taking her hand and squeezing it briefly. Hermione turned and headed purposefully for the boys' staircase. "Good luck!" Harry called after her.

Hermione took the stairs two at a time to Fred's dormitory, which was the second one, right above the sixth-year students. She had just raised her hand to knock when she heard George's voice coming from inside.

"That's great! You really got her good."

"Yeah, things are looking up," Lee said. "Completely mortifying rumor and we've not been back for twenty-four hours. We're winning this one—and we've got all those new ideas from Charlie we can use..."

"Yeah," Fred agreed.

Hermione froze, feeling as if she'd just been punched in the stomach. What had she been thinking? Of course Fred hadn't really been serious! Everything was just a joke to him, that bastard! He didn't really want her. He just wanted to piss her off and laugh at her and hear everyone congratulate him on another joke well done. He didn't like her.

Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes and she turned and ran, desperate to get out of sight before anyone saw her cry.