Tension and Release

A daydream is nice, but reality is always better. That's what Hermione thought as she cuddled with Fred. A good book in her hands, and his warm chest against her back, Hermione felt calm for the first time in months. She had been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to ignore the various stressors in her life. In this moment, though, they were blissfully evaporated. Fred was reading over her shoulder, and combing his fingers gently through her curls.

George was at Angelina's for Christmas Eve, meeting her parents and elder brother. He had popped in at around 10, having slept in, then rushed off to see Angelina, with a promise they would all paint the town together after Christmas. Hermione found herself looking forward to the normalcy of a double date.

"Are you going to be alright, seeing Ron tomorrow?" Fred asked, breaking the tranquil waters of their silence.

She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and gave a large, exasperated sigh. Without looking, she put her bookmark at her page and tucked her book into the couch.

"That excited, eh?"

"You think he'll be so bad, with it being Christmas and all?" She asked.

"Hoping for a Christmas miracle, dear girl?" She could see his smile as she looked up at him.

"Maybe. I just don't want to ruin everyone's Christmas." she told him.

Fred's expression shifted. His mouth drew to a tight line, and his eyebrows sank towards his eyes. "You won't ruin anything. My little brother has to learn at some point that a temper tantrum will not always win him the day."

Hermione reached up a hand to pat his cheek sympathetically. It was a nice reminder of how uncomplicated being an only child could be.

"If George and I got something new, he cried. If mum spent a day out with Percy or Ginny, he whined about it. When dad came home, exhausted, he had to get attention first or he'd sulk…" It was obvious Fred had been holding on to these feelings for some time. "And with you-" He cut off suddenly, leaving the words floating in the air.

Hermione sat up and turned to look at him properly. "What about me?" When he didn't respond, she began to poke and prod his stomach and chest, making him squirm. He began to laugh, and grabbed at her hands to try and stop her tickling attack. "What about me, Fred?"

"Okay! Alright, let me breathe!" Fred choked out between his laughter. She stopped, waiting expectantly for his answer.

"Well, around the time of the Yule Ball, we were talking and I offhandedly mentioned I thought you'd be a fun date. He got really odd about it, and finally asked you. You turned him down, obviously, because of Krum. And he was more than pissed. Acted like you had thrown out the script and started a new play. He made it pretty clear how he felt about you. Which is why I never…"

"You thought about asking me to the Yule Ball?" Her eyes were wide.

"Well, yeah. The Bulgarian's not the only one with a good eye, you know. And I could have kicked myself when I saw you in those periwinkle robes!" Fred laughed as her expression morphed into one of adorable embarrassment.

"Well, Ron never bothered to tell me any of what he apparently made abundantly clear to you. I'm not a mind reader, and honestly he can be so hot and cold…" Hermione huffed. Fred nodded his agreement. He could feel a growing unease, however. Talking about the possible outcome where she had ended up with Ron instead made his stomach ache.

"Besides," she continued, "he can't be too upset. He started dating Lavender before I even mentioned to him that I was seeing someone."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Ron likes attention, and maybe she just gives it more freely than you do. And now, because of me, he might try harder to make you jealous," Fred reasoned.

Hermione crawled into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "What would I be jealous of? I have you, and you are pretty great. And he should know, after all this time, that I don't go chasing the shadows of possibilities."

"You don't, at that," Fred agreed, returning her hug happily.

Hermione couldn't sleep. First she kept imagining how angry Ron would be. She found herself deeply regretting how she had tried to make him jealous, because now she would pay for the comment. She had just been so angry, and he had been so mean lately for no proper reason. And poor Harry, always caught in the middle of their drama, even as he had much bigger things to worry about.

When thoughts of Ron subsided, she found herself returning to thoughts of her parents. She had seen the Daily Prophet on the kitchen table. Another muggle family had been found dead, and the ministry was sure that foul dealings were involved. Maybe not Death Eaters, but certainly someone emboldened by the return of the dark wizard. The word "pure" had been written in blood over the door. Hermione woke with a start from a dream where the same damned word was painted over the door of her childhood home.

She crept down the stairs quietly, surprised to find Fred wide awake and pouring over a book and several pages of notes. She smiled, a warm sensation gathering in her stomach as she watched his intense expression. He raised one eyebrow, and ran the feather of his quill across his chin thoughtfully.

"You're so cute when you're thinking," Hermione told him as she stepped into the dim light of the enchanted rock lamp on his desk.

"Then I must look like hell most of the time," Fred joked as he finished writing a note. He then set his quill into the inkwell on the table and stretched his arms upwards, fingers interlaced. As he brought his arms back down, he held out his hands to her, inviting her into a hug.

As she held him, she looked curiously at his notes. He was studying the properties of Felix Felices, and taking notes on its application to objects. As fickle as luck itself, the results seemed variable at best, and more than a little inconclusive. She could see why he looked so frustrated.

"Have you tested different materials?" she asked, as he leaned his head against her stomach.

"Mostly metals so far. After Christmas I'll try fabrics, though I doubt it will matter..." his voice was muffled as he spoke into her t-shirt. His voice buzzed against her skin, and she squirmed. He gripped her tightly and stood, picking her up.

"Oh no, put me down Fred Weasley," Hermione commanded.

"Party pooper," Fred grumbled, giving them both a spin before setting her down. She punched him playfully, and he gasped dramatically, clutching his arm.

"It's 2 o'clock! Why are you accosting me instead of dreaming beautiful dreams?" He asked, still clutching the offended arm.

"Couldn't sleep," she said, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Worried about tomorrow?"

"No...Maybe," Hermione confessed reluctantly.

Fred held Hermione's face in his hands, and leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

"Thank you. I-" she cut off abruptly, and pulled back from him, tipping herself over gracelessly onto the couch.

Fred's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bright red bangs, and his lips quirked in a questioning smile. She shook her head mysteriously, and couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with him. Fred chose to let her keep her secret, for now.

"Hermione, it will be alright. You have me. And Ginny. And probably even Harry. He won't be mad for long. Not at you," Fred assured her, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. She reached out and took hold of his hand. He leaned in and captured her lips. Her hair was fanned out around her, making her look weightless. Angelic, he thought. Then a small voice he rarely heard chimed in: peaceful, like death.

A small moan against his lips pulled him back from such thoughts. Hermione was here, alive, safe. She was warm, soft, responsive. His hand drew circles across her stomach, playing with the blue fabric of her sleep shirt.

Something shifted suddenly behind Hermione's eyes. She sat up, and he could see determination, or maybe even something that Fred would have deemed mischievousness. Her hands wandered playfully downward toward the hem of his shirt, then pulled back up slowly. Inch by inch she revealed a valley of freckles stretching across his stomach, then chest. He lifted his arms, allowing her to remove the shirt, which she casually tossed to the floor.

"Hermione…" he breathed. Her name felt heavy on his tongue. Fred could feel his heart pounding, his stomach bubbling with nervous excitement. She grabbed his hands and pulled, a silent invitation for him to join her on the couch. She leaned back, and he lay on top of her. They had found themselves in similar situations before, snogging themselves silly and breathless. This felt different, however. She had never taken off his shirt, for one.

"Fred, I…" for the second time that night, Hermione cut herself off suddenly. Fred smiled at her. Hermione Granger wasn't the shy type, for sure, so whatever she was thinking had to be important. He had a feeling he knew what she wanted to say, but he could be patient. He just had to stop himself from saying it first, and stealing her thunder.

Instead, Fred distracted himself with thoughts of how lovely Hermione was. Her troubled tossing without sleep had thrown her regularly unruly hair into a state bordering on the ridiculous. He carefully slipped his fingers into her hair, cradling her head tenderly as he moved in for the kiss. Nibbling softly at her lip earned him a small laugh, and Hermione's hands found their way to his face and hair as she deepened the kiss. He loved the feeling of her soft hands cupping his face, but she had set him on a course for craving much more intimate touches. He guided one of her hands away from his face, almost as if to say 'try again'.

Fred felt she was teasing him as she began to run her hand gently over his shoulder, first. Then her hand trailed down his arm, fingers ghosting lightly over his freckled skin. He growled out a playful warning, and she laughed and continued her slow touches.

"Hermione, if you're just planning to tease me…" Fred began, and Hermione quieted him with a kiss.

"You have to learn some patience, Freddie. Nothing worth having comes in a hurry." They both thought about what she said, and it sent them into a small fit of giggles. "At least, I hope not?"

"That's quite a thing to say, Miss Granger. What experience would you have with things coming in a hurry?" Fred teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh hush…" she told him, her face growing slightly red. Her hands began to wander across the skin of his back. She rubbed down, stopping just above his backside, then raking back upward gently with her nails. It was gentle enough to be soothing, but it drove Fred crazy. He could feel the pressure building in his gut, and he was sure she could feel his excitement.

"Fair exchange?" Fred asked, tugging gently at the hem of Hermione's shirt. She nodded, her eyes dark with wanting. He pulled her shirt up, and she lifted her arms up to help him get it off. His eyes feasted upon the sight before him. She wore a grey bra, lacey and without padding. He tried not to get ahead of himself, thinking of what lay beneath. Her skin was free of blemish, and much lighter on her stomach. She was not the type of girl who wore two-piece bathing suits, so this skin didn't see the light of the sun. Her stomach was thin, but lacked the toning of someone more athletic, which made sense for someone like Hermione who spent her time reading rather than running.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he told her. He ran his hand along her side and down to her stomach. Her skin was soft and smooth, and the callouses on his hands caused her to erupt in goosebumps.

"Thank you. You are too, dear," she told him in return, then kissed him deeply.

After a few minutes of heavy snogging, and not-so-innocent groping, the two were once again finding their clothing restrictive. Hermione suggestively untied the strings that held up Fred's shorts and pushed them down just a bit. He took them off, leaving him down to his boxers. His arousal strained to escape, but a button held it back. In return he pulled away her sleeping shorts, leaving her with a pair of panties that matched her bra. They too were lacey, and he could see the dark shadow of curls through the flimsy material. His hand travelled down, between her legs, and began to rub the nub of her clitoris through her underwear. The feeling caused her to squirm uncontrollably, and it took everything she had not to close her legs around his hand. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it felt electric. The look on her face made Fred smile, and he found the blush creeping across her features to be hot.

"Fred, please...please, Fred…" her voice came across in short little pants as she tried to catch her breath. The jolt in Fred's stomach was intense, hearing her say his name in that tone. He began to move his fingers in gentle circles, growing faster as her breath hitched. "Fred, I feel so, I feel like I'm…" She began to make sweet little gasps, and her eyes closed as she threw her head back.

"Come for me, darling. Slowly, though. Nothing worth wanting comes quickly, right?" He said, and slowed the ministrations of his hand to a tantalizingly slow pace. Her breath slowed for a moment, and she arched her back. Speeding up again, he wanted to watch her come apart. It didn't take long for him to get his wish. Her body finally rocked with her orgasm, and she cried out his name as she came.

As her breathing slowed, he pulled her into a tight hug. She whispered his name a few more times as she came down from the high, and snuggled into his chest. Fred couldn't say he was disappointed in the outcome of the evening. He knew she wasn't ready to go any further, and he wouldn't dare push her beyond what she was ready for. He knew he was falling, hard. Hermione had his heart, all of it. He had all the time in the world for moments like this, as far as he was concerned. No need to rush something that would last.

"Fred, I love you…" she mumbled into his chest as he carried her up the stairs to his room.

"I love you, Hermione," came his reply.

"Stay with me?"

"Of course. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day, I'm sure," he told her, climbing into bed beside her. She slept with her back tucked against his chest, and as Fred drifted off to his own sleep, he thought of how perfectly they fit together.

Author's Note: Sorry that the chapters have slowed a bit. I am a bit busy with work and theater, but really this chapter was slow because I wanted to write it with a delicate hand. I know the lemony aspect of this story is really low, but I am a sucker for the slow moving intimacy. Hope you're all still with me in this. I do have plans for the big moment. But I want it to be just that, a big moment. (Also, I wanted them to declare their love before it was tied into sex. So there).