Life, Love, and an Acute Caffeine Dependency
By: QDT
Disclaimer: I am the Queen of Duct Tape, not the Queen of Harry Potter.
Chapter Three"Fred!" Hermione shouted, appearing at the bar in the Three Broomsticks.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"You can't just apparate people places without telling them where they're going!"
"Why not? Katie said we'd all buy you a drink."
"But-"
"You could come home with me, babe, if he ain't pleasing you," an obviously drunk man sitting at a stool slurred, grinning at Hermione in a way he clearly thought was attractive. Fred glared at him, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist.
"Hands off," he said. Hermione considered telling Fred that she wasn't his, but decided she'd prefer Fred's arm around her waist to the drunk guy's tongue down her throat. Soon afterward it wouldn't have mattered what Hermione could have done because Fred pulled her off to the dance floor, thus rendering her incapable of doing whatever she could have done in said situation. But now she had to dance.
"Fred, why are we on the dance floor?"
"Because we're dancing. Just do something spontaneous for once. Dancing with me may possibly scar you mentally for years to come, but I assure you that I am a good enough dancer that you won't be physically harmed." That being said, Fred pulled her closer and mentally thanked the DJ for playing a slow song because her hair smelled good. Although, in Fred's mind, everyone's hair smelled good. He had an odd fetish for scented shampoo, and recognized hers as a lovely citrus and vanilla scent. An odd combination, but it worked.
It was at this time that the others arrived, having had to apparate to multiple bars and pubs before finding the right one. It was, even with George, slightly difficult to tell just where exactly Fred would disappear to at any given moment. George didn't even know half the time where he was going to disappear to, so it was quite likely that Fred was just as surprised as Hermione was when they arrived at the Three Broomsticks as opposed to, say, the Leaky Cauldron.
"What's Fred doing?" Angelina asked, sliding into a large booth, which might possibly fit all of them, but it was unlikely.
"Sniffing Hermione's hair," Lee said as he slid in beside her.
"It's a weird thing he does," said George. "He'll probably mention the next time she changes shampoo scents in casual conversation." He pulled Alicia down into the booth next to him. (The booth was one of those odd curvy and connected ones that seats a lot of people in a corner or something. They were discovered quite by accident some hundred years ago by an inebriated man who lost control of his wand.)
Katie was not paying any attention to the author's clever monologue involving booths, but was instead gazing at Fred and Hermione, who were, incidentally, still on the dance floor. "Oh, to be young and in love!" she cried, sighing dramatically and pretending to wipe a away a tear. With her left hand, which, oddly enough, had a diamond ring on what could be considered a very significant finger.
"That is to say you aren't?" Oliver, her fiancé, raised an eyebrow. She grinned at him.
"Not a bit," she said, eyes sparkling.
He tried to frown at her, but ended up grinning as he offered a hand. "We may have to remedy that situation, my lady," he said formally.
"I'd be honoured, kind sir," She took the offered hand and let herself be led to the dance floor.
After the couple left, Angelina turned to the others. "So, do you think they are?"
"Think who are what?" asked Lee.
"Fred and Hermione in love, idiot," said Alicia.
"I resent that comment."
"Quit lying to yourself, mate," George said. "It'll only end in tears."
Alicia ignored them, studying Fred and Hermione critically. "It's hard to say," she told Angelina.
Angelina grinned. "But it has possibilities, no?"
"No. No no no no no. I refuse to be a part of yet another one of your ridiculous matchmaking schemes." Alicia looked horrified. "Do you remember how the last one turned out?"
"The last one was Katie and Oliver, and they, in case you hadn't noticed, are engaged."
"No thanks to you!"
"They said 'thank you,' I'll have you know."
"That was for saying congratulations and wishing them good luck. You're lucky they don't know it's your fault that they were locked in that broom closet for forty-eight hours."
"It was only forty-seven hours."
"And this makes a difference how?"
Angelina was about to reply, but it was at this point that the song ended and Katie, Oliver, Hermione, and Fred headed back to the table. Katie and Oliver, being closer, got there first and sat down. And the booth, while large and spacious, was able to comfortably seat six people, and seven was a bit cramped, but eight was impossible. Noticing this, Hermione made a move to grab a chair from a nearby table, but Fred sat down and pulled her into his lap. Without asking. He was doing a lot of things tonight without asking, and Hermione was quite sure that if he were anyone else she would be furious, but found that what little anger she harbored disappeared when he smiled at her.
Okay. That's it for now. It was going to be longer, but then there wasn't a stopping point, so this is it. Enjoy, and please review!
Yours sincerely,
Ab