Smut alert. Passages are marked for you Snitch, let me know if it works for you.

"Ow, ow, ow! Nurse, I would like to speak to your patient advocate. This is abuse I say!"

"Oh hush!" Hermione chastised as she guided him past the door of her apartment. It was a small blessing that she had left the bed down in her rush this morning. She deposited him on it with a huff.

"There are easier ways of getting me in your bed than throwing me off a balcony, Hermione." Fred wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I should have left you in the bushes." Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped over to the small cabinet that made up her kitchen. She pulled out her electric kettle and set about brewing some coffee and making them a fine supper of assorted preservatives.

"Hand me my case? I want to check and make sure it's not damaged."

"You're the one that fell."

Still, she grabbed his violin from the door handing it off to him before returning to their coffee. She poured them each a cup as they waited for the noodles to rehydrate.

"Well I don't know what damage you did, swinging it around like that. Honestly, it's a violin. Not a wrecking ball."

"You're lucky I climbed that deathtrap at all. I could have broken my leg and then how would we have limped back here?" she asked.

"We could have frozen to death together and someone would have composed an opera about it." Fred paused to drag his hand across the air in front of him in a grand gesture. "The violinist and the ballerina meet a tragic end. Very romantic."

"You're impossible," she huffed, bringing him over his noodles.

They ate in slowly, joking about the horrible combination of coffee and MSG but still imbibing both because they were utterly frozen and starving. The snow had started in earnest two blocks from her apartment building. By the time they fought their way through the door, it was near whiteout conditions.

Fred waited until they had finished to run his hand lovingly over his instrument. The wood was stained a warm copper and the handmade craftsmanship spoke of age and value. She didn't bother to ask if it was worth much, Hermione found that most of the students were carting around tens of thousands of dollars of equipment.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you. It was my Uncle Gideon's." He pulled out the bow, sawing across the strings and checking the tuning. "His brother Fabian owned George's cello."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They died when we were six. There was a fire on their way home and they heard a woman inside. She and her children got out before the building collapsed but our uncles didn't. They left the instruments to us in their will, just because we were the newest set of twins. No one could have guessed we would outplay them by age ten." Fred smiled weakly. "Poor men just wanted to give us a bit of fun and set us up with a lifetime of expectations."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. Mostly because she didn't know what else there was to say

"Don't be." He shook his head, setting the instrument back in its velvet-lined case. "It is too much a part of me now to know anything else."

After a moment lost in his memories, he turned back to her with that pained, painted smile. Something uncomfortable curled in her chest.

"Let's check that foot." She popped off the bed and knelt on the floor. "No blowjob jokes or I will throw you out of my window. It's higher up and I don't have any bushes to cushion your fall."

He barked a laugh that quickly turned into a hiss as she worked his boot and socks off. She frowned at the darkening bruise coloring the length of his heel. He yelped when she tried to move it.

"Sprained, it should be better in a few days but you should still probably go to the hospital."

He threw himself back, bouncing against the springs of her mattress.

"I can't afford that! I'll just expire here, in your bed."

"You will not!" She laughed digging into her stash of first aid supplies.

"Good luck getting your deposit back. The smell of human decay never comes out."

"You're lucky ballerinas are so obsessed with foot injuries. If it were anywhere else you could be bleeding out and I wouldn't notice."

"True. It could have been my hands."

"Your hands are a gift from God and I would never forgive you if you injured them beyond repair," she joked.

"I know many women who would agree with you for different reasons. Better to die than to live without in that case."

Hermione bit back a response at the sound of something clicking. She had just finished wrapping his foot when she smelled the acrid scent of cigarettes. Her head shot up to see him lying against her bed, a smug smile tugging at his lips and a lit cigarette slipped between his fingers.

"What are you doing?!" she cried.

His eyes blew wide as she lunged at him. He rolled at the last second to avoid being squashed and hobbled up on one foot.

"Come one. This could be my very last cigarette ever! I could be dying."

"Put that out! You can't smoke in here."

He held the dart high above her head, bringing it down for a quick drag when she misjudged a lunge in the small space.

"You are going to make me lose my deposit... And give yourself cancer in the process!"

"But I'm in a punk band," he whined. "Smoking is part of the bad-boy image!"

Hermione cornered him by the door. She jumped using his shoulders as leverage to pull herself up, close enough to swipe her fingertips across his wrist.

"Be punk without smoking. The tobacco industry is very much still 'the man'."

"Fine, fine."

He took one last drag before stubbing out the butt in his coffee dredges and falling back onto the bed. She frowned at the mix of ash and the murky grinds of his mug before taking it to the one window and snapping it open dramatically. The heat rushed from the room, eliciting a yelp from Fred as she flung the sludge out, hopefully not hitting whatever poor souls were still out in this.

"Shut the damn window woman. Do you want me to freeze?"

She closed the window with a heavy click, the air suddenly feeling thin and delicate as he shivered on the bed in his t-shirt. She raised an eyebrow and bent low on the bed, tangling her hands in her comforter, just to the left of his thigh.

When she glanced up at him he was staring at her, his mouth dropped partially open and his eyes dark. With a victorious smirk, she yanked at the covers, sending him sprawling off the corner of the bed and quickly wrapping herself in the downy fluff and plopping herself in the dead center of the mattress.

"Ow! You can't do that! I'm injured."

"Don't smoke in someone else's house. This isn't the eighties." She watched him hobble back up with suspicious eyes.

"Damn, your feminine wiles." Hermione snorted in response. "Fine. I won't smoke. At least share the blanket."

"No way. I don't want it to smell like an ashtray until the next time I can air it out. Maybe you'll learn better this way."

"Let it be known. I asked nicely." He nodded sagely before his face broke out into a wicked grin.

Hermione squealed as he grabbed the bottom of the comforter and burrowed underneath. She felt his head bush against her calf, and then her back before he popped up behind her with a victorious grin and hair so staticky it was standing on end.

"Fred!" she laughed, adjusting her grip on the covers to allow enough slack for him to move.

He shifted around so they were facing back to back, the heat of his skin leaching into hers. She knew it was a bad idea, that she should just get one of the afghans that had fallen under the bed. But he felt so warm and alive that she couldn't bring herself to say anything. He didn't smell like smoke at all.

"You insisted on the hard way. What would you have done if I caught frostbite, hm? These godly fingers would have to be removed." He reached behind him to tickle at her spine. It set her giggling until she wrapped his hand in hers and held it down.

"Couldn't have that could we?" she responded.

"Nope. I suppose we couldn't."

He tugged his hand back slightly and Hermione knew she should let go. But no matter how many times she gave the command her fingers remained tightly around his. After a moment he exhaled a shaky breath, spreading his fingers so she could thread her own through them properly.

They sat in silence, the sound of a nondescript television show muffled leaked into the room. Her heart raced at the feeling of his skin on hers and she was sure that the room would be sweltering in no time at all with how deeply she was flushed.

The peaceful moment was broken by the sound of a familiar chime as her phone rang. She grumbled as she exited the blanket cocoon and she could have sworn she heard Fred curse under his breath. The caller ID flashed with Harry's picture and she picked up as she made her way to the bathroom.

"Harry?"

"Hey, Hermione. You home?"

"Yeah. Just got back when the snow started."

"Good good. Hey, listen. They're shutting down the city. Too much snow, the plows can't keep up."

"Gotta love winter in New York."

"Yeah, no kidding. Hey, have you seen Fred? Ron says he's not answering his phone and I know he's over by you."

"Oh yeah. He uh… he was walking me home when the blizzard hit. He's currently stealing all of my comforters."

"Oh…"

"What?" Her tone was probably a bit more defensive than wise.

"Nothing, nothing. I'll let Ron know he's alive. Apparently, Molly has been freaking out. Ginny says she's making emergency care packages of canned fruits from the summer."

"Lovely," Hermione laughed. "I have a feeling those will feed me for three months rather than a few days.

"Porbably!" There was a muted shuffling in the background as Harry clearly covered his phone to respond. "Okay. Stay warm and stay off the roads. It's gonna take forever to clear this snow out. I'll swing by if I can over the next few days. Need anything?"

"Stopped by the store before all this happened. As long as I have heat and electricity we won't starve."

"Alright. Catch you later Hermione."

"Stay safe out there Harry!"

She hung up the phone with a click. When she slid out of the door Fred was thoroughly tucked into the comforter at the center of the bed with only his face poking out. He glanced at her in an accidentally remarkable impression of a cocooning caterpillar. When he smiled she felt a part of her melt. A few days, trapped inside her matchbox apartment with nowhere else to go. A dangerous premise.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Don't act like you didn't hear me. I live here, remember. I know the walls are paper-thin. Scoot."

He begrudgingly opened his protective wrap but didn't sit up. She rolled her eyes before settling next to him and letting him tuck the covers back around them. She was suddenly aware of how wonderful it was to face him. His crystalline eyes shimmering in the light reflecting from the window.

"Your mom is freaking out," she said.

"Yeah. I checked for my phone but must have dropped it in the bushes when I fell. Hopefully the battery doesn't freeze."

"Hopefully."

When he smiled down at her she made her decision. Feeling way too bold, she tucked her hand between them, brushing against his stomach as she moved her fingers to his, intertwining them.

"Hermione?" His voice was lower than usual. His eyes watched her with a sense of unease. "What are you doing?"

"Skipping the awkward part. We'll be stuck here for days."

"But-"

"Look. It's a small apartment and we're alone with nothing to do. We can dance around it for a while before inevitably failing and then just end up feeling like there wasn't enough time. I'll go back to dancing, your band will make it big and we can spend the rest of our lives wondering... Or we can just skip all of that and be sick of each other by the time the snow stops."

"That seems a tad dramatic."

"We live dramatic lives." She smiled softly, resting her hand on his chest. He inhaled sharply, blinking down at her with an unreadable expression.

"What do you want Hermione?" His voice took on a growl and he shifted underneath the comforter.

"Nothing really. I don't have time for anything serious." She sighed, almost regretfully, but she needed to be honest. It was only fair. "I spend all my spare time working or in the studio. If that's not okay with you, I can grab the afghan from under the bed and sleep on the floor for the next couple of days. No matter what you choose I promise I won't be mad at you."

Though she would be crushingly disappointed. She watched his eyes flash, very aware of how their legs brushed against each other and how his thumb ran up and down her wrist. He licked his lips and tracked her eyes when they dropped to the movement. He couldn't seem to drag them away even as he spoke.

"Just for now then, yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

"Guess I'll have to take it."

His hand snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him. His body was an inferno compared to hers and her muscles sighed with relief at the return of him pressed against her. She tucked her head against his chest, nuzzling against his neck as if it were as it were something she did every day.

Fred's chest rose and fell with hers and she took the chance to drag her finger across his collar bone. He was too thin for his own good, but then again they all were. Fred shuddered under her fingertips, his hand around her waist pulling her closer while the other one raised her face to his.

He stared down at her in a way that drew a flush of red to her cheeks. His lips just barely parted with a general look of soft wonder as he pushed an errant curl out of her face.

"God you're gorgeous," he breathed almost silently. "You sure about this? I am wholly undeserving and this is reckless as hell."

"Shut up and kiss me."

He did and this time she was ready for it. Without the numbing cold or the buzz of alcohol, she was perfectly aware of the way his lips brushed against hers in a cautious question. As if he was waiting for her to pull back and tell him it was all a joke. They were tentative and gentle, pulling away before she could do anything to respond. She growled and tangled her hand into his hair pulling him closer and letting her mind blank of everything but his lips and strands twisted in her grip.

When he licked at her lower lip she opened for him, shivering as his tongue played against hers. His chest vibrated against her, fingers tangling in her curls as he took control of the kiss. He lightly tugged back her hair, kissing down her neck and nibbling at the skin, sending waves of desire to settle in her stomach.

"A few days right?" he questioned, his voice deep and scratchy with lust.

Hermione nodded numbly as he pulled the collar of her oversize sweater part of the way down her shoulder. She mewled when he kissed and bit at the spot just above her collar bone, hiking her leg over his hip and cradling his hand against her thigh. She brushed against his body, aware of the rough texture of his hardened length grinding through their clothes. He drew a small moan from her when his teeth sank into her flesh, sucking at the injured tissue until she was shaking.

When he pulled away he was panting, tracing the no doubt reddening mark almost reverently with his fingertips. His pupils were blown wide, the deep black fighting against the icy blue. Fred rolled them over so he towered above her, caging her in with his arms as his body melded against hers.

Fred returned his attention to her mouth, lavishing kisses of bruising pressure interspersed with soft almost chaste brushes. Her body sang but she was also impatient. She waited for him to press against her before raising her hips to grind into him. He stiffened and swore, staring down at her in warning. He was about to say something when she did it again, moaning lightly at the shot of pleasure it sent up her spine.

She must have broken through whatever he was holding back for. One hand shot down to grip the bottom of her sweater, peeling off the heavy wool and giving her barely a second to recover her before his lips were attacking the newly revealed skin.

00000 lemon start 00000

He licked the swell of her breast, glancing up at her to watch her reaction as she pressed up against him. He was both too much and not enough at the same time. She fisted the fabric of his shirt and yanked dragging it halfway up his torso before his hand slipped under the cup of her bra, brushing against a hardened nipple.

Her movement stuttered, her brain unable to focus on anything but the raging heat settling in her stomach and the dampness between her legs. He looked pleased as he sat up, finishing the work of pulling off his shirt and staring down at her.

With slow, deliberate movements he brushed one of the straps of her bra off her shoulder, his eyes watching her face as he tugged off the other. She blushed, shifting awkwardly under him. Hermione had spent enough time in the dressing room to not be bothered by her nakedness. But this was different. She knew he wanted her, but there was something heady and addictive about the way he was staring at her. Like no one else could ever possibly compare.

His hand slid behind her, fumbling awkwardly with the clasp. She was grateful for it and the way he swore. It made him seem more human. Like she wasn't the only one feeling beautifully out of control and chaotic as they wrecked whatever previous relationship they had with the grace of a rampaging elephant.

When she heard the hooks snap away they both held their breaths. He stared at her, the last chance to back out before irreparable damage was done. She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes locked onto his as he looked down. He pulled the fabric away and exhaled sharply.

"Fucking Christ."

Fred was staring down at her in awe, roving over her torso in languid passes. His hands curved around the edges of her breast, pushing them up as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. The action elicited a high-pitched whine that drew his attention back to her face. He lowered himself back over her. His fingers plucking at the pert nubs as he kissed his way down her chest. Her attention was torn between the intoxicating feel of his skin on hers and the way his fingers deftly pinched and tugged on her nipples. A gift from God indeed.

Suddenly his hand was replaced by the warm wet heat of his mouth. She moaned at the sudden change, his tongue circling the flesh as his teeth nipped and pulled. Hermione felt his hand drift down her stomach but couldn't even imagine stopping him at this point. When he flicked the button of her jeans open on the first attempt, he smirked against her.

"Don't get cocky." she panted, the tone more breathy than she intended.

Fred pulled swiftly at the fabric, hiking it over her ass without looking as he stared at her face. His fingers ran over her bare hips, looking for a scrap of lace or cotton to tug at. His mouth turned down in momentary confusion when he pressed his finger against her naked folds. She took almost as much pleasure in the look of shock when he glanced between them as from the pressure.

"Dancer remember-" she choked out as he stroked against her. "Don't wear those."

"Warn a man will ya?" he muttered, his eyes glued on her sex as he circled her clit with practiced ease.

Hermione moaned, opening her hips wider and throwing her head back at the shivers flooding through her body. He finally looked up at her as he slid in a finger without warning. She groaned as he sank into her, pushing inside and brushing against places that have never been touched so deeply before.

He pumped into her dutifully, occasionally pulling out to brush and pinch at her clit. He played her body expertly, pitching her high and low as he explored her. Just as she was about to snap, he pulled away. She whined at the loss, even as she heard the sound of his belt hitting the floor somewhere behind them. She swallowed roughly as he tugged her pants the rest of the way off before stripping his own. She forced herself to look at him, not wanting to hide.

The light shone behind him, leaking through his hair in impossibly small beams that seemed to lance her vision. She bit her lip as she took in the lean muscle of his arms and chest, honed from the years of the minute, detailed motions that came with his art.

Pushing up, she ran a hand down his neck and over his breast bone before dipping down his stomach to trace the trail of hair leading further down. She bit her lip and allowed herself to look, mewling when he stroked himself almost proudly. A shiver rolled through her spine at the idea of something so thick inside of her, and so long she wasn't sure it would fit. Part of that worry must have shown on her face because he tipped it back to him, lowering himself to whisper against her lips.

"Something wrong?"

She bit her lip, not sure if she should say anything or if it would just scare him off. Ultimately it was the almost concerned open look in his bright eyes that had her confessing.

"It just seems like... a lot."

He glanced at her in confusion before following her eyes to the subject of the conversation. He smiled rakishly and purred against her lips, his hand tracing her inner thigh.

"That's a hell of a review. Don't worry, you're soaked."

He looked as if it caused him physical pain to say the statement. She closed her eyes unwilling to look at him as she stumbled over the words.

"That's not… It's just that-"

"You've gotta talk to me. If something is wrong we need to stop."

"I know. I know," she murmured, feeling his lips kiss at her neck, then cheek, then nose.

"Hermione, Doll. Look at me."

She allowed her eyes to flutter up, earthy brown to his sky blue. This close she could see the lighter ripples and cracks shooting through his iris. A band of dark navy ringed the color, seemingly keeping it contained from spilling over and consuming her. She felt like she could spend the rest of her life seeing the world in only those shades of blue.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

"I haven't…. There wasn't really time..."

"Time for?"

Hermione bit her lip and glanced down, flushing red as she caught sight of him straining near her. She forced herself to look away before she did something embarrassing.

"Oh… Oh!... Shit."

His hand was on her chin again tugging it toward him. She bit her lip as something feral crossed his face and she almost winced. Fred's hand snaked back down her body to run through her soaked sex and restoking the fire as he watched her. He slid one finger in again but it suddenly didn't feel like anything close to enough.

"No. It's okay. I'm ready and-"

"Hush. Of course you are." He nuzzled into her neck as he balanced above her. She groaned lowly as he coated another finger and slipped it in as well, stretching her walls.

"Please, I want to. Really-"

"I know." He chuckled as twisted his fingers, letting her grow used to him. She squirmed against him trying to shake loose his hand so he would replace it with what she really wanted.

"But you aren't-"

Fred nipped at her neck, causing her to yelp and focus back on his face even as he moved in her. It felt good but in a different way than earlier. Like he was trying to do something specific.

"Stop worrying. I am going to fuck you. There is no doubt about that," he growled into her ear. She immediately stilled, keeping her small movements to just her hips. "I just need to make sure you are ready."

He pressed his thumb roughly against her clit, panting as he patiently prepped her, refusing all attempts she made to grab at him and offer some relief.

"Not about me," he breathed as he lightly pulled her wrist away from where she lightly grasped his cock. "Not his time."

When he slid in a third finger she was ready to scream in frustration or pleasure she wasn't really sure. He chuckled softly, kissing up her neck to her lips. When he finally withdrew she was a soaked mess, wetness dripping down her thighs as he nibbled the skin of her jaw. He lowered himself flush against her body slowly, his skin still burning against hers. Her legs hooked around his hips naturally and she couldn't help but notice how right it felt.

"Ready then?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. His finger circled her hip drawing out the tension in her spine that she didn't know she was holding.

"I'll go slow. Just trust me."

She glanced up at his eyes, letting the blue wash over her until she calmed again. She leaned up to press a light kiss against his already abused lips. She fell back against the mattress as she felt him rest at her entrance.

Fred followed her down, locking his lips on hers to swallow the pained gasp that slipped from her throat as he sank in slowly. There was nothing to break, she had been dancing for years, but her body still rioted against the intrusion as he stretched her painfully. By the time he was fully inside her she was shaking, trying to adjust to the feeling.

"Shhh Shh. I'll take care of you, you stunning, extraordinary woman. You just have to relax and I promise I'll make you feel amazing. You're doing so well. You feel incredible. Just relax."

Hermione breathed slowly, letting his words wash over her and giving her time to adjust. When she finally could force her muscles to release she found that the pain was replaced by the immediate need to just move.

She experimentally rolled her hips, relishing the way his careful touches on her hips turned into a grasping pressure. He screwed his eyes shut and swore under his breath as the curtain of his hair slid over her cheeks. She cleared her throat and caused his eyes to snap to hers. She had to resist the urge to cower under that look.

"I would like you to move... please."

Her voice was small and wavering. More so than she had intended but it did the trick. As promised he moved slowly, giving her time to get used to each step until she was begging him to move faster. It soon became alarmingly clear why even the busiest women in the ballet corps still found time to date.

"Please Fred."

He shuddered and his hips snapped into her, brushing against something deep inside her that made her hair stand on end. When she moaned loudly he did it again, watching her face with rapturous attention that bordered on obsession.

She had never felt so valued and taken at the same time. When he shifted his hand down to rub against her clit again she moaned his name grinding her hips to meet his, each thrust pressing that spot deep inside her and brushing against the bundle of nerves. She felt that familiar tightness coiling in her stomach and was soon twitching around him. She was balancing on a knife's edge not sure where to fall.

"Let go, Doll. I've got you. Just let go."

She screamed as the tension snapped, pleasure rolling through her in waves as he groaned into her with erratic thrusts, no longer holding back his own release. When she finally wound down she felt wonderfully sated.

00000 lemon end 00000

Fred hovered over her on shaking arms until she stopped twitching, kissing her lips even though she could barely make them respond. Eventually, she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her in painfully clear adoration. He pushed back her curls from her forehead with delicate motions, his fingers brushing against her forehead. She kissed his palm as he pulled away smiling weakly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just kind of… adjusting."

"You need anything? Some water? Or-"

"Just lay with me, you ass." She laughed and knocked an elbow from under him, forcing him to awkwardly collapse against her chest, briefly knocking the breath from their lungs. He rolled to the side, gazing at her with a deeply satisfied grin on his face. Before he could do anything else her downstairs neighbor made her presence known with that familiar tap, tap, tapping against Hermione's floor.

"Oi! Fuck off!" Fred yelled in the general downward direction. An explosion of Spanish flowed into the room, setting Hermione giggling as Fred tucked her into his chest protectively.

"You're going to make my neighbors hate me."

"She's a cow anyway."

"I wonder what she's saying."

"I speak a bit of Spanish… at least most of the swears and the general gist is that we're both going to hell and my mother is a whore."

"Lovely woman." Hermione rolled her eyes and settled back against his chest.

Her body was already sore on her walk home and at this point, it was nothing short of exhausted. She kissed at the skin of his pecs, purring as one of his hands tangled in her hair and the other pulled the comforter back over them.

"That was wonderful," she mumbled.

"Absolutely anytime, Doll. Anytime at all."

She was broaching the cusp of sleep, her body more than ready to fall into oblivion to the sound of his heartbeat. She barely heard him when he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you, Hermione. For letting me be something special to you."

She would have responded if she hadn't already fallen asleep.