Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews, your support, and your patience. This chapter will finally begin to earn the M rating I've given it. It's just a playful little bit. Don't want to move too quickly, yeah? Also, the chapter title does in fact come from the Ludo song.

Mutiny Below

Christmas Day fell on a Wednesday this year, and Hermione had told him that she would come to visit on Christmas Eve, so that she'd at least have a bit of time with her parents. She didn't say it, but she was also incredibly nervous about going to the house with Ron still fit to burst. Even with Fred's assurance that neither he, nor Ginny, nor his mother would let anything bad happen, Hermione had still left the Room of Requirement that early Saturday morning with a half-hearted smile.

Fred had returned to the Wheezes, happier than anyone had seen him in quite some time. Verity kept joking that he'd had a brain transplant for how calm he'd been, despite the Christmas rush. And that was true. He felt happy. He felt alive in a way he had not felt since they'd started their business. Things were new and exciting, and he was falling into the throws of what he might even consider calling love, though at least for now he'd contained the thought to "strong fancy".

However, Fred had begun to have a very unexpected side effect from his innocent night spent in the arms of one, Hermione Granger. He was having a bit of a 'mutiny below' as he and his brother had termed it. He was waking up with knots in his stomach, and an erection that sent his fingers and toes tingling. Usually a warm shower and a quick set of strokes would be enough to get it to stop, but by Monday night it was starting to interfere with his ability to work. After the third mis-boxed order George was starting to get a little short with him.

"Look, mate. I know you're not sleeping well, but we've got too much to send out by tomorrow. What in the world is going on in your head?" George said, switching out a fainting fancy for two boxes of puking pastilles.

"Brother, the mutiny has been keeping me up at night. I haven't slept through the night since Friday, and I guess it's just getting to me…" Fred admitted. Verity stopped packing for a moment and looked at him, tilting her head to the side like a puppy.

"Why not just use a daydream charm? It might help you play out whatever your brain is trying to tell your body." She suggested, holding up the suggested product in her hand. She had been bringing a new set of them to be packed into boxes.

"Verity, you're a genius! That'd work wonderful, yeah?" Fred exclaimed, picking the girl up in an exuberant hug.

"You're welcome. Now can you guys stop covertly talking about your unfortunate erections. Or I will definitely start sharing some not safe for work stories about just how well those charms work." She threatened, a cheeky smirk on her face. Fred and George laughed, though they both had the decency to blush, and got back to work.

Fred was exhausted by the time he was able to fall into his bed at the end of the day. They had managed to fill all the last minute Christmas orders and get them out, and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was officially closed for Christmas break. He laid on his bed for a moment, savoring the plush and welcoming feeling that his mattress offered to him. Just as he thought he might just drift off to sleep, he felt that familiar stirring in his stomach.

"Ah, well. I suppose I wasn't going to just work myself to exhaustion so easily." He said, though he hardly regretted what he was about to do. It's not as though he hadn't started considering the idea. He had just been trying to keep the thoughts at bay, since they were taking things nice and slow. But thoughts were nothing to be ashamed of, Fred had always felt. Not to mention, Fred wasn't in the business of denying himself the small pleasures in life. And an active imagination was just part of the joy.

He sat up and pulled the small box out of his robe pocket. He threw it down on the bed and got ready for bed. He pulled off his robes, slacks, and shirt, tossing them on the chair in the corner of his room. Then he pulled on some flannel pajama pants bearing the Canon's logo. He leapt back into bed and pulled the little charm out of the box. He hadn't used one of these since they'd finished testing them. He shivered and closed his eyes as the cold metal of the charm touched the bare skin at the hollow of his neck.

When he opened them again, he was in the Room of Requirement. He looked down to see the fluffy hair of Hermione, and she was sound asleep on his chest. He smiled, because this was the sight that had greeted him on that Saturday morning. He had awoken, his arm tingling from being trapped under her through the night, and just admired the way she looked. At some point she must have woken up and taken off all her makeup, for there was no tell-tale smudge of day old eyeliner. Her hair was straining against the bond of her braid, finally relaxing from the hold of the potion she had used to straighten it.

His hand found his way to that hair, much as it had that morning. His touch was light, but it still caused her to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, and she tilted her face to look up at him. Her face looked relaxed and rested, a state quite rare for the mile-a-minute bookworm.

Good morning, beautiful." He said quietly, running his fingers along the soft skin of her face. She hummed slightly, and mumbled what sounded like "morning", but he couldn't tell for sure. She sat up slowly, looking very out of sorts for a moment. "What time is it…?" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Fred pulled out his pocket watch and handed it to her. He didn't really care for the time, and the last thing he wanted was a countdown to tell him how soon they would have to part. She looked at it and groaned slightly, then maneuvered herself into a kneeling position on the couch, clearly intending to leave their makeshift bed.

"Hermione, don't go yet…" Fred pleaded, sitting up and grabbing her wrist gently.

"Fred, I have to get back before too many people start to talk about where I've been all night…" She retorted, but she didn't pull away from him.

"What does talk matter? People talk about me all the time, and you don't see me getting all in a panic about it." He told her.

"Well that's what makes you so cool, right? Your devil may care attitude, and that look that tells the whole world to shove it." She joked.

"Indeed. I'm glad you can see it." He said, pulling her back down.

"Fred…" She started, but her argument must've lost steam within her own mind, for she was the one who initiated their kiss. Her hands rested on his chest, pinning him down to the cushions. His right hand still held her left wrist, but his left hand reached up toward her hair. He found the hair tie that was keeping her locks confined and tugged it off gently. Then he slowly, carefully began to run his fingers through her hair to take out the braid. When her hair had returned to its properly wild state he cupped the back of her head. He nipped at her bottom lip, eliciting the smallest gasp from her, and she nipped back playfully.

"You look beautiful," he said quietly. His voice was deep from sleep. He ran his fingers gently over the soft skin of her arms. She sat up slightly, kneeling once more, and gestured for him to sit up. A look of timidity stole across her features for a moment, then she swung her leg across both of his, straddling his lap. Fred had to stifle a noise, for her skirt was now set dangerously high. He put his hands on her legs, just above the backs of her knees, and looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She smiled, her cheeks tinged a delightful pink in the firelight.

Her legs were smooth. His hands travelled up slowly. At first his touch was light, barely ghosting across her skin. She giggled, and the bell-like sound sent a tingle through him. He could feel that familiar stirring in his stomach and in that mutinous region down below. He began to touch her more surely, running his hands back until they cupped the rounded curves of her behind. The fabric of her dress just barely covered it in her current position, and he was tempted to pull the fabric up farther. Instead, he squeezed her bum playfully, and she jumped slightly. Her breath hitched, and she started to play with his hair.

Looking up into her eyes, he could see they were dark with emotion. She kissed him deeply and grabbed one of his hands, moving it back to her leg. He broke their kiss and looked at her, his head tilted questioningly.

"I want...touch me Fred.." She said, her voice thick and deliberate.

He didn't need to be told a second time. His hands wandered over the beautiful landscape of her body. Wanting to enjoy all the pleasures of the moment, he moved the hand on her leg back toward her hip and pulled her closer to him so that she was now seated on him, rather than kneeling right above. He could feel her warmth very close to him, and he knew he was very obviously hard. Holding her hip with one hand, he let the other wander up the side of her body until it rested on her breast. She gasped, and he began to run his thumb across the front, feeling her nipple harden through the material of her dark dress. Since the dress was strapless, he could guess with pretty good certainty that she didn't have a bra on.

"Do you like that?" He asked. She nodded, wordlessly. Her hands began to do some exploring of their own. He could feel her tugging at the bottom of his shirt, pulling the fabric up to expose the skin of his stomach. She began to touch his stomach and sides gently, running her hands along them. In turn, he began to squeeze gently, his other hand coming up to give similar attention to her other breast. She moaned her appreciation, and her hands began to travel further up his shirt, until he found her urging him to take it off. His fingers fumbled to help her with the buttons.

"This seems wildly unfair, Miss Granger." He whispered once he had tossed his shirt aside. She put a silencing finger to his lips and began to touch his chest. His body was still in fair shape, though he didn't get out to play Quidditch nearly as often these days. His chest and arms were toned, however, from years of swinging the bat at heavy bludgers, and now from carrying boxes of product. Her hands were warm. She dipped her head and began to kiss at his neck and shoulders. His hands found their way into her hair, and he knew she must feel how excited he was. He knew that her core had brushed against his sensitive head twice already. The third time her hips moved in a way that made him believe she was doing it on purpose.

"Tease…" He moaned out, and she nipped his neck hard. He bucked at the sensation, for he hadn't been expecting her bite. A laugh hummed in her throat, and he could feel it through her kiss. "Merlin, Granger… I can't keep up like this. You're going to make me come in my pants like a horny little teenager." He told her honestly.

She stopped kissing and sat back for a second, shifting her hips cheekily as she considered him. Then she moved off of him completely, resuming her spot kneeling on the couch next to him. Her face had a bit of mischief to it, but also a lot of curiosity. "Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked.

"Ahh, don't say things like that…" He told her, his face growing red.

"I mean it, Fred. Can I...can I help at all?" She said, and her hands roamed downward. They settled for a moment at the top of his hips, then her right hand moved toward the button on his pants. He watched the top of her downturned head as she undid the button, and tantalizingly moved his zipper down. His hard member, very much with a mind of its own, sprung forth almost immediately, holding his boxers up in an almost comedic purple tent.

Suddenly she looked unsure, and Fred felt guilty.

"Show me what to do." She said, looking deeply into his eyes. "I want to learn, okay?" She looked determined, like this was a particularly difficult spell, or a new incantation.

"Always the student…" Fred said, but he took her hand in his own. He undid the little button on his boxers, freeing little Fred for all to see. He guided her hand to his shaft and showed her how to wrap her fingers around and hold with just the right amount of pressure.

When she started to pump up and down, Fred felt like he could have jumped out of his skin from how good it felt. Her hands were small, but her strokes were long and she kept a consistent pressure that set his nerves on fire. Every time she cupped the ridge, he moaned. He showed her how to twist her wrist, ever so slightly, to change up the feeling. He could feel the pressure building, until his release washed over him with a blinding intensity. He began to tremble as he came.

Hermione gasped, jumping back, then giggled. She tried to cover it, but her laughter began to pour from her as uncontrollably as his own release. She had been caught off guard, and in that moment Fred felt an intense rush of feelings for her. He loved her innocence. He loved her willingness to try new things, and learn.

When he opened his eyes he was back in his own room, alone. His heart raced, and he could feel the wetness that coated his hand and legs. He lay on his bed for a moment, catching his breath, then reached for his wand to clean himself up. Finally, sleep found him. He drifted off and slept peacefully through the night.