AN: Gahhh! Before you throw vegetables and chairs at me, please hear me out on why this chapter took so long!!!

Phew, okay, so I got addicted to youtube over the last week and spent a lot of time on there looking for some inspiration for this lovely little story, however it was on Tuesday that I realized what a horrible author I am to you guys! Anyway, consider this somewhat shorter chapter my apology, and expect to see chapter 6 out in a much shorter wait. Again, I am so so so so so so sorry!!!!!!!!! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Oh please.

Hermione was sitting on the couch, once again admiring her ring. In truth, she was still waiting for it to crack in half so that she'd be released from this torturously awkward union, but no matter how much she glowered at it, not even the slightest quiver of movement occurred.

Exhaling in frustration, she snapped her hand away form her eyes, annoyed at the small band around her finger. This was becoming too much of a habit for Hermione while Fred was down at the shop, probably smiling and laughing with George, actually having fun.

Sighing, she stood and walked up the stairs for a nap, growing far too weary to keep glancing at the small reminder on her finger, taunting and laughing at her.

………

Fred returned from work, if you could call pranking customers nonstop with George work, at about six, smiley and happy. He threw his jacket carelessly on the blue armchair and stretched his arms over his head, yawning contently. He looked around the room, thinking something was missing.

Hermione! He wheeled around towards the sofa, thinking that maybe she had fallen asleep there and he had accidentally passed her by. Normally, when he got home, Hermione would be sitting right there on the couch, her hand awkwardly thrown behind her head, as if she had snapped it back there quickly and had not moved it to a more comfortable position. He furrowed his brow as he turned around the living room, looking for her.

"Hermione?" He called down the hallway. When there came no answer, he turned away, but a small, barely audible snore pulled his attention to the stairs.

Although he didn't know why, there was probably some sort of criminal or homeless person asleep in his house. Fred, being the boyish guy he was, immediately wanted to floo over to his mom's house. However, Hermione pleasant face flashed in his mind, and he knew he couldn't leave her there. Even though she was fierce, she was no match for a burglar.

Crouching down, he picked up an umbrella near the doorway. At first, he thought Hagrid might be here, because the umbrella was pink and kind of big. Oh yeah, Hermione bought this last week. Whoops. So much for that idea.

There came another small snore, and Fred's panic level increased. What if this guy had already gotten Hermione? What if he had killed her? What if he had eaten that pie his mom made? Ugh, the possibilities of what tragic deeds this criminal had committed were endless and horrifying, making Fred's feet move slightly quicker as he stepped lightly down the hallway that lead to the stairs. He held the umbrella out in front of him, ready to attack. It hadn't even crossed his mind to pull out his wand. Besides, he thought he may have left it in the bathroom this morning. Oh well, Hermione would know where it was.

That thought brought him back to the present, where he was just about to jump out from the shadows and mercilessly beat the quaffles out of this guy. Mentally, he counted to three, ready to spring. One…Two…oh man I need to pee! Not now! Ugh, one…two…THREE!

"Ha-ha!" He bellowed as he sprung forth, brandishing the umbrella like a sword, swinging and whacking like there was no tomorrow.

"This is for Hermione!" He yelled triumphantly, as he swung down and collided the umbrella with the body. "This is for me!" He shouted, again making bruising contact. "And this is for my mom's pie!" He yelled once more, raising the umbrella higher than ever, ready to deliver the final blow that would knock this guy out cold.

"FRED!"

"Hermione?" Fred lowered his umbrella gently, his face perking up at the sound of her voice. He whirled around, but didn't see her, so he turned towards the stairs and looked up. Still no Hermione. "Where are you?" He asked.

"Down here." She croaked, and as the horror of what he had done sunk in, slowly, Fred looked down at his feet, where the "burglar" had been resting.

Hermione lay curled up in a small ball-like shape, clutching her left arm to her chest and her right arm holding her nose, which was bleeding profusely. Fred's eyes widened and he could literally feel the color rush from his face. He just beat his wife…would she considered this an abusive marriage than?

Stooping down quickly, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like a small girl, holding her close and apologizing every step of up the stairs.

"Hermione! I'm so sorry! I thought-well I mean you obviously are not a burglar, but still! I'm so sorry! Why didn't you say something? Well, I guess you couldn't, but I am so stupid! I'm so sorry, Hermione! I would never do that on purpose! Oh geez I'm an idiot! He rambled, kissing her forehead and cheek between syllables.

"Yes, you are an idiot." She replied harshly, holding her hand to her head and glaring at him. He looked back sympathetically. Her gaze softened. "But that's okay." She said, her voice dipping into a softer, sweeter tone. His favorite tone. He smiled again and kissed her forehead, which was beginning to sport a nasty-looking bruise.

He carried her with ease into the bedroom before laying her on his bed, which was enchanted to be bit more comfortable than hers, which was very stiff. Hermione sunk into the mushy comforter, a look of pure contentment crossing her eyes. Fred chuckled and pulled the quilt off her bed and laid it over her, kissing her cheek.

"Sleep well, Little Burglar." He said softly, turning to walk away.

"Wait." Hermione croaked. Fred turned back, surprised. Hermione rotated over on his twin bed and motioned for him to lie with her. Fred laughed and held up his hands, backing away.

"Nah, I've got your bed to rest in if I need to. And the couch!" He said, smiling and still walking away. Hermione pouted.

"But my bed's all stiff, and you of all people will fall off the couch." She persisted, patted the empty space next to her. Fred looked down and shuffled his feet. Darn. She was right.

Sighing with a mixture of exhaustion and happiness, he clambered into the bed next to her, pulling the quilt over him too. She immediately drew herself towards him; lying extremely close…they were almost cuddling!

However, the oddest part of all was this. Fred knew, deep down, had it not been for the awkward position he was laying in with Hermione so close, he would definitely be enjoying being so close to her; feeling her soft skin against his rough arms, smelling her cranberry shampoo, seeing her small smile, the way she still looked adorable even though her nose was still a bit bloody…it was the sweetest, most innocent, and most terrifying thing he'd ever experienced.