Fred only had one word. "Hermione?" He looked at the witch in his lap, who was still pressed to his chest. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face upwards and saw that her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink. "Love, is George trying to tell me what I think he's trying to tell me?"

Hermione gulped a little, but she gathered her Gryffindor spirit and held his gaze. "I suppose that depends on what you think he's trying to tell you, Fred."

Fred nodded, slowly. "Well, watching that," he tipped his head towards the screen, without taking his eyes from Hermione's, "I'd say he's trying to tell me that I've been a blind fool."

Her eyes widened in surprise. That wasn't quite what she had been expecting to hear. Hermione had anticipated some teasing, maybe a gentle let-down, or even an outright rejection. But not that.

Fred had more to say. "You held my hand all the way through."

Hermione nodded. "We both did." She swallowed the lump in her throat that had appeared when George's film reminded her of how close they had come to losing Fred. "We combined our magic and conjured a chain to bind all of our wrists together so they couldn't push us any further away from you. They had to take us with you to St Mungo's. And because George and I conjured a joint spell they couldn't easily work out how to undo it and we stayed connected to you until we were certain you were OK."

Fred's mouth made an 'O'. "That's why he did this?" Fred lifted his hand up to show her the chain on his wrist.

Hermione smiled. "I guess that was part of it, yes." Then she blushed. "But he added more, by the sound of it."

Fred grinned. "I'd say! Now I don't want to put you on the spot, love, but I don't especially feel like taking the easy way out. Georgie said we'd be chained together until I kissed you, and my last kiss clearly wasn't good enough. Or maybe he charmed it not to activate til I had seen the film. So, not that I'd mind being chained to a pretty witch for the Christmas holiday, but would it be OK if I tried again?"

"Actually," she laughed slightly, her courage growing now that she was processing his words and the dark set of his big brown eyes, "key or no key, I wouldn't mind staying chained to you for a bit longer, Fred Weasley."

"Is that so?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Well, Georgie also said my hair would stay this colour unless I told you how I really felt…"

"That was … tricky of him," he chose his words carefully. "Though Slytherin green looks quite festive, as it turns out … especially on you." He grinned. "Is it bad that I'm feeling quite proud of him? Georgie's even sneakier than I thought."

Hermione tipped her head to one side. "Hmmm. I guess he's been quite clever. Puts me in a difficult position, though."

"It does?" Fred raised his eyebrows. He loved that she seemed to want to play.

She held his gaze and nodded slowly. "I mean, what if I decide to tell you anyway but end up looking like a fool?"

Fred shook his head vehemently. "Never, love." He reached for her hand. "Telling someone how you feel about them is never a bad thing. And, if it helps, well let's say I'm experiencing some feelings that I didn't realise I still had until a few minutes ago. How about we do what Georgie wants, the way he wants, and I promise to tell you my feelings if you tell me yours?"

Hermione began to softly play with the long fingers that were now entwined with hers. Fred didn't seem to mind; his fingers began to move as he stroked hers in return, and she took heart from that.

"Well…"

Fred looped his other arm further around her, pulling her closer. "Go on, love. Tell me…"

She looked into his eyes. If she was going to do this, she may as well do it properly. And without him wearing a silly paper hat, so she reached up and gently pulled that off his head before continuing.

"I like you, Fred Weasley. A lot. I've liked you for quite a long time." She stroked the back of his hand and took a deep breath, realising that this wasn't quite the while truth. "More than like. I love you, like I love your whole family, but with you it's different from how I love the rest of your brothers." Her free hand dropped his hat and moved to cup the handsome face that she had cried all over when she thought it held the ghost of his last smile. "You're the real reason I wouldn't pursue a relationship with Ron, and even now no-one else stands a chance because I can't imagine feeling this way about any other wizard. I thought my life had come to an end when I thought yours had, and yet even after all of that I just didn't know how to tell you."

That was more than Fred had expected; more than anyone had ever given him, and he didn't know what to say. That was a first. And it was an unfortunate first, because Hermione started to panic that it was too much; that he might be embarrassed or shocked or not as interested as she had hoped, and in truth he was instead blown away by her confession and by the sight of her curly green hair turning slowly back to its natural brown.

Hermione's eyes clouded over; she dropped her hand and began to stammer an apology. "Fred, I'm sorry … please don't be weird with me if you don't feel the same … I don't have a family of my own anymore, and that's why I didn't want to tell you the depth of my feelings even after all that … I couldn't bear to lose my place in yours…"

"Stop, love … relax … it's OK," he caressed her face with his hand. "You're going to be OK. Can you stay calm while I tell you how I feel?"

She gave a nod as he stroked her hair.

"OK. Well I have to be honest and say I hadn't connected things in the way George had until I saw his film, because otherwise I'd have tried to sweep you off your feet a long time ago … but I really liked you too for a term or two, back in my sixth year. But Ron liked you and … well there's a code, you know, amongst brothers."

She didn't know, actually, but she murmured an encouraging noise anyway in the hope that he would continue.

"And now… Well, love, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than officially release us from this chain and then stay attached to you for Christmas and into the new year even without it, if you'd like that?"

Hermione needed to clarify exactly what he was suggesting. "Are you saying you'd like to give us a try, Fred? As in a romantic try?"

He smiled as he reached for her face. "I think we can do better than a try, love. I'd like to be your wizard, and I'd like you to be my witch. I reckon we know each other well enough already to skip all that silly dancing around dates and definitions and just decide we're together ... if that's what you'd like too?"

Hermione's "yes" was almost a whisper, but Fred was watching her mouth so closely that it didn't matter in the least. Tentatively, he leaned towards her. "I'm going to kiss you properly now ... shall we see if we can kiss well enough this time to break Georgie's spell?"

He didn't think she'd be skittish, but he couldn't be certain.

Hermione slowly nodded in agreement as Fred leaned in closer and gently touched his lips to hers. A tiny bit of pressure and she parted her own lips with a quiet "oh". Butterflies were skipping in her tummy and her head couldn't quite process the enormity of what she knew was going to happen. So, for once, she turned her thinking brain off and allowed herself to just feel.

As the kiss progressed into something deeper, which was at once new and old and achingly familiar, the mistletoe chain slipped off as it released from their wrists and slid across their thighs. Hermione wriggled herself around in Fred's lap so that she was straddling him, and his arms tightened around her as he brought her body closer to his own. They took advantage of their newfound physical freedom to wrap their arms more closely around each other. Fred smiled into Hermione's lips and his tongue moved to explore inside her mouth. She moaned softly, weaving her fingers into his soft red hair, and kissed him with all the feeling that she had ever had for the man in her arms.

A couple of floors below them, a huge grin crossed George Weasley's face, making his mother wonder what he was up to. He had placed an additional charm on the mistletoe chain which heated up a coin in his trouser pocket to let him know when they had watched the video and then kissed deeply enough to break the spell. Unable to come up with a suitable explanation for his excited response on top of being unwilling to explain the strange antics of Molly's clock, he was enlisted into icing two dozen more gingerbread men in the hope that it would keep him out of trouble for a bit.

He was happy to do it, though. And when his favourite witch (Angelina aside) and his favourite wizard finally came downstairs twenty minutes later with normally coloured hair and their hands entwined, he leapt into the air with a shout of joy. Grabbing his mother, he began to dance her around the kitchen, finally turning her to show her the sight that he knew was going to make her Christmas too; her middle son standing right behind her adopted daughter with his arms wound tightly around her waist, his chin on her shoulder, his cheek pressed to hers and two happy faces holding expressions which clearly told the world that they were now together.