A/N: I took the day off yesterday, because it was Easter and I wanted to.
Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for reviewing again. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I thought it would be sort of clever to have Fred inadvertently use the potion to get Hermione, and who better to deliver it then George?
This one's sort of.. angst-y, which sort of surprised me. It's still cute, though. Also, I made Ron out to be such a prick! oops.
Suggestions and requests welcome.
Enjoy :)
Was it you who caught me staring?
Fred was in a pretty good mood today. He had done fairly well in Charms, pulled a great prank on Filch, and managed to convince three people that he was an Animagus with the use of a cleverly placed passageway and Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. The sun was out, Angelina had scheduled Quidditch practise, and he had just eaten a big lunch. Yes, Fred decided, heading out of the Great Hall, he was definitely in a good mood. George, by contrast, was not enjoying the nice weather, or the lunch they had just eaten. He was in a sour mood because he had just seen Angelina, who he currently fancied, holding hands with a seventh year whose name Fred didn't know. He glowered out the window at the sun, as though it had been the sun's idea that he fancy Angelina in the first place. "It was bound to happen, mate," Fred told him, "You should have just asked her out to Hogsmeade when you had the chance." George didn't answer. "Ask her about him at Quidditch practise." Now George looked at him, and scoffed. "You're battier then old Trelawney if you think she'll talk to me about the blokes she's been snogging, or that I'd even want to hear about it." "I'll ask her if you like. I'll even pretend to be you." George cracked a grin. "She'll be able to tell the difference. I'm the handsomer twin, anyway." "Then use your dashing good looks to steal her away from that bloke she's seeing now," Fred thumped his twin on the back. "We're going to be late for Quidditch," Fred announced. "Again," George added, and they laughed. They approached the Fat Lady's portrait, exchanging jokes and ideas for new pranks. Before they could give her the password, she swung open on her hinges, and a crying Hermione ran out, bumping Fred's arm as she went. Glancing at each other, Fred and George entered the portrait hole slowly, wary of what they'd find on the other side. Ron was standing in the centre of the common room, his face very red. People were staring at him and the portrait hole Hermione had emerged from. A nervous babble broke out as the twins entered; a few students exchanged sidelong glances before returning to their books. Fred's good mood evaporated as he watched Ron's face change from angry to sort of happy. George, catching on to his twin's frustration, said, "I'll... Er… just go get our brooms, then," and nearly ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Fred watched him a moment before rounding on Ron, who now looked positively smug. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "What was that about?" Ron, for his part, looked chagrined. "We got into a row about schoolwork," he said, confusing Fred. "Then why did Hermione run off crying?" Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure. She just started wailing, and telling me how I'm 'the worst'," He lowered his voice and added, "She's bloody mental, I tell you." Fred was seized by the desire to punch his brother. "Hermione wouldn't start crying for no reason." Ron shrugged, "Why does it matter, anyway? She'll be back talking to me in a couple days." Fred clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Prat," he said, turning away. "What did you say?" Ron also sounded angry. "I said, you're a great bloody prat. You made Hermione cry and you don't even remember what you said to hurt her feelings." Fred was shaking with anger now. "It's no wonder you've never gone steady with anyone. You're just an insensitive prat." George emerged from their dormitory, both broomsticks over his shoulders. "Ready, Freddie?" Fred closed his eyes, trying to shake the urge to curse or punch his brother, but the memory of Hermione running from the common room in tears pushed him over the edge. He pulled his arm back, hand clenched firmly in a fist. He swung forward and made contact squarely with Ron's nose, which broke beneath his fist. Ron howled with pain just as a stern voice called, "Mr Weasley! What is the meaning of this?" "He punched me," Ron told her, holding his nose in both hands and trying to stem the bleeding. "To the Hospital wing with you, Mr Weasley. Mr… Er… Weasley. You will kindly explain yourself." She turned to George. "I believe you have Quidditch Practise, Mr Weasley." George shot Fred a sympathetic glance before leaving the Common room. "My prat of a brother made Hermione Granger cry for the third time this week. I argued with him, and then I punched him." Hermione came up behind Professor McGonagall just as he finished, her cheeks stained with tears. "Professor, what happened to Ron? Fred, what-" "Mr Weasley, I advise you in future not to pick fights with your brother. You will report to me at six o'clock every day for the next week for your detentions, and I shall be taking twenty points from Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall interrupted her before sweeping off. "Fred, why did you get in a fight with Ron?" Fred heaved a sigh, "Because he made you cry for the third time this week and he didn't care. I punched him." Hermione's eyes widened, and she said breathlessly, "You… You punched your brother… over me?" Fred nodded, "He was being a prat anyway." She smiled, "Er… I have to go to Quidditch practise now. Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade next trip?" She nodded shyly, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Fred," She whispered, "Thanks for standing up for me."
Or was it me who caught you?
Hermione was having another fight with Ron. They had been bickering a lot recently, but this week had been worse then usual. She had found herself crying in the loo twice already, and the week was only half through. Today, Hermione had been trying to explain to Ron the difference between shredded and powdered boomslang skin for his potions essay- a harmless enough topic on a normal day. Ron had snapped something about her being a know-it-all, and Hermione had said she would stop helping him revise his essay. Ron had begun shouting at her. "Ron, people are staring," she said, trying to get him to stop. "So what? It's not as though any of them care about you!" "How dare you, Ronald!" she felt the tears coming again. "It's true. Harry, Neville and me are the only ones who put up with you," he spat, crossing his arms at her, "So go ahead, run to the library, alone!" "Y-you're just the worst, most insensitive…!" She was so upset that she couldn't finish her sentence, the tears flowing hot and fast down her cheeks. Spinning on her heel, she ran for the portrait hole, trying to hold back the tears unsuccessfully. She didn't stop to apologize to Fred when she bumped into him, too upset to want to see another ginger head looking down at her, even if Fred looked and acted nothing like his youngest brother. She contemplated this as she sat in the loo, her tears stopping quickly now that she was far away from the common room. Fred was never mean to her, and he never argued with her about silly things. He seemed impressed with her knowledge, and kept trying to get her opinion on the products he and his brother created. She refused, of course, but it was flattering to know he respected her opinion. She didn't think that Fred and George just 'put up with her'. Feeling substantially cheered, Hermione decided she really should apologize to Fred for bumping into him, and then maybe she could watch Quidditch practise for a while before helping Harry revise his potions essay. As she walked up the Grand Staircase toward the seventh floor, Ron came running the opposite direction, clutching his face in his hands. Suddenly concerned, she picked up speed, running by the time she reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She gave the woman the password, and the picture swung forward to admit her. She walked over to Professor McGonagall, who was looking sternly at none other then Fred Weasley. "Professor, what happened to Ron?" She asked, before turning to Fred, "Fred, what-" "Mr Weasley, I advise you in future not to pick fights with your brother. You will report to me at six o'clock every day for the next week for your detentions, and I shall be taking twenty points from Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall gave her a tiny smile before sweeping from the room. "Fred, why did you get in a fight with Ron?" Fred heaved a sigh, "Because he made you cry for the third time this week and he didn't care. I punched him." Hermione's eyes widened, and she said breathlessly, "You… You punched your brother… over me?" Fred nodded, "He was being a prat anyway." She smiled, "Er… I have to go to Quidditch practise now. Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade next trip?" She nodded, feeling shy. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Fred," She whispered, "Thanks for standing up for me." "Anytime," he answered, kissing her cheek and walking from the common room. She stood for a moment, in awe at the very idea that he had taken her side over his own family, before hurrying out the portrait hole after him.