The inside of the Burrow had exploded into celebration over Mr. Weasley's return home. He good-naturedly endured the party hat snapped onto his head and tried not to wince too much as many hands clapped him on the back or shook his uninjured one. All of them settled around the long dining table as Mrs. Weasley plopped down an immense cake in front of them. Mr. Weasley beamed up at Mrs. Weasley, thanking her for the cake and began divvying up slice among the group. Sirius, Lupin, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye had come down to celebrate and everyone was so happy that it was almost impossible to sense the leftover tension from the garden. At times, Harry thought Mr. Weasley caught something was wrong. He had looked quizzically at Harry, covertly jerking his head to the side to point out the twins' and Ron's stiff posture. Through ridiculous bad luck, they had all been squished into three spots next to each other. They were valiantly attempting to act like nothing was wrong, but Harry knew Mr. Weasley wasn't buying their forced, polite conversation. Harry had shaken his head at Mr. Weasley and gave an appropriately confused look.
"Hermione, dear, would you pass me that plate?" Mrs. Weasley asked distractedly as she placed a second piece of cake onto George's plate.
"Yes, of course," Hermione replied, leaning over Harry to reach Mrs. Weasley. She looked involuntarily at the other side of the table. Ron caught her eye and he hastily looked down, ears rapidly turning red. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for his best friend – he knew Ron wanted to tell Hermione how he felt on his own terms. The scene in the garden was a less than ideal way for Hermione to find out about Ron's feelings for her. Harry also remembered how he felt when Cho rejected him for Cedric when he asked her to the Yule Ball. Harry felt a twist in his gut. He knew that Fred had a point – Ron didn't own Hermione. At the same time, Harry knew that Fred could have handled the situation better, even if Ron had just punched him in the nose. Harry sighed, fluttering the napkin on the table. Hermione copied him, making him smile a little.
"How are you holding up?" He asked her, glancing sideways.
"I've been better," Hermione replied honestly. "Just waiting for this whole thing to blow over."
"Maybe you should talk to Ron. Or Fred," Harry suggested. "He seems to be taking it pretty hard."
Hermione nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. After the party, of course. I wouldn't want to spoil the evening."
"That's smart," Harry agreed.
"Well, I am the brightest witch of our age," Hermione quipped, grinning mischievously. Harry laughed.
"I know, I should be used to it by now," Harry replied, grinning back. Hermione and Harry's light conversation made the party much more bearable. At times, Harry even forgot about his dream and the slight twinge of guilt he felt every time he looked at Mr. Weasley's bandaged arm. Sirius had reassured Harry when he had confided in him his fear of becoming more like Voldemort.
"I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry," He said. "You're not a bad person. You're a very, very good person who bad things have happened to. Besides, the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."
"Harry? Are you coming?" Hermione turned around as got up from her seat. Harry was snapped out of his thoughts and saw most of the people had cleared out from the dining room and were headed outside to climb up the hill. "Mrs. Weasley said it was far too nice outside to not eat the cake outdoors," Hermione explained, recognizing Harry's confused expression. "So, we're going to have a little picnic on the hill."
"Sure, I'm coming," Harry replied, looking past Hermione and up at the hill. Ron was trudging up the hill with George, talking quietly. Ron seemed to have calmed down a bit and decided that he could at least be civil with George. With a small smile, he walked out of the Burrow with Hermione, enjoying the crisp night air. The two walked in amiable silence a good distance behind the rest of the group. As they got higher, the inky black sky seemed to expand around them and swirl with different constellations. Hermione absently pointed out a few of them that she recognized. "That one kind of looks like the Sorting Hat," Harry chimed in, pointing at a cluster of starts. Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes before conceding that yes, it did in fact look like the Sorting Hat. The rest of the group had settled on top of the hill and were now eating more cake. Harry realized that there probably wouldn't be any left by the time the pair of them got there. He looked at Hermione's peaceful, happy face and decided it was worth it.
"Mind if I steal Ms. Granger away for a moment, Harry?" Fred had suddenly appeared behind them, making Hermione and Harry jump. He grinned looking at their surprised expressions.
"Merlin's pants! You nearly gave me a heart attack, Fred Weasley!" Hermione gasped, her small hands smacking his torso and arms. Fred quickly stopped her attack by grabbing her hands and twisting her around so she was leaning with her back against him. Hermione scrunched up her face in frustration and tried to break free. Fred was laughing behind her. Glaring at Harry, she asked, "Well? Are you going to stand there or help me?"
Harry bit back a laugh. "She's all yours, Fred," He replied, mock-saluting him. Hermione glowered at him, still trying to get free. "You can kill me later, Hermione." Harry raced up the hill to join the rest of the group, chuckling at Hermione's protests behind him.
oOoOoOo
"Completely…unfair!" Hermione muttered breathless protests, still struggling against Fred's grip. "Why are you so much stronger than me?" She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that her efforts were useless. She discovered she rather liked leaning against him. Besides, he was warm and she was already chilly from the night air.
"I play Quidditch and I'm a guy," Fred stated flatly. "I'm glad you've given up trying to escape. It was completely spoiling the mood."
"Fred Weasley, a romantic? Who would have thought?" Hermione asked, smirking.
Fred rolled his eyes. "Shut up," He said lightly. He released his grip on her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"I'm your girlfriend, you can't tell me to 'shut up'," Hermione teased him.
"Girlfriend? Really?" Fred teased her back. "I was under the impression that you were using me to cool down your pesky teenage hormones."
"Mean!" Hermione complained, smacking him again. Hermione felt him wince dramatically and she grinned. "Fine, then. I'm not your girlfriend. You can go out and shag all of Hogwarts for all I care."
"Sounds good," Fred replied, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "I've had my eye on Angelina for a while now…"
"You are evil."
"You said I could!" Fred reminded her jokingly. "Besides, you're pretty adorable when you're jealous," He admitted, hugging Hermione closer to him. He felt Hermione become warm with pleasure.
"If you're not careful, you might get punched twice today. I've got a mean right hook," Hermione replied, her words at odds with her body language. She rested her head on Fred's shoulder.
"I know. A little bird told me you got Malfoy pretty good two years ago. I would have paid to see that."
Hermione sighed happily at the memory. "Third year was good."
"Except for the dementors nearly sucking out everyone's soul every once in a while, you mean."
"Well, yeah. There's that. But other than ridiculously scary creatures waltzing around Hogwarts, it was a good year."
"I just pictured a dementor ballroom dancing. Thanks for that."
"Remember Professor McGonagall demonstrating how to dance with Ron last year?" Hermione asked, laughing so hard she snorted.
Fred grinned and added reminiscently, "George and I took the mickey out on him for a whole summer."
Hermione sighed, sobering up. "You need to talk to Ron."
"That prat punched me, I'm not saying anything to him."
"Fred."
Fred turned Hermione around so he could look at her face. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Fine, I'll talk to him. If I end up with a black eye, I'm blaming you."
"Fair enough," Hermione responded, unable to keep a grin from her face. He looked especially handsome in the moonlight. His brown eyes were illuminated by the moonlight and the faint light highlighted his cheekbones and strong jaw. He was much taller than her, but she had always liked that. It made her feel safe.
"What?" He asked a little uncomfortably, scrutinizing her expression. Hermione realized she had been staring.
"Nothing," Hermione lied quickly, blushing and turning away.
"Not buying it." Hermione heard Fred's amused voice behind her. Fred walked in front of Hermione to face. He tipped her face up so she was looking at him. "Come on, tell me."
"Mmmm, no," Hermione replied, scrunching her nose at him playfully.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to think of a way to persuade you."
Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked. "Good luck with that."
"Not going to need any," Fred replied quietly, slipping two hands around her face and bringing her face to his.
oOoOoOo
"Where did you two get off to?" Ginny asked archly, smirking at her brother and Hermione. Fred and Hermione had just walked into the Burrow through the backdoor. They looked presentable enough, but Ginny was eerily perceptive. Hermione also had a few twigs stuck in her hair from when they had bumped into a tree. Worth it, Fred thought.
"Nothi – nowhere," Hermione squeaked, brilliantly red in the face. Fred rolled his eyes and glared at his sister. Ginny's smirk broadened into a cat-like grin.
"Well, this explains Ron's foul mood," She said dispassionately. "You might want to talk to him."
"Yeah, we've discussed that," Fred replied, irritated.
"Looks like there wasn't much 'discussing' going on."
"Drop it, Ginny." There was a definite edge to Fred's voice and Hermione continued to turn a brighter shade of scarlet.
"Fine then," Ginny sighed, tossing the book she was reading to the side and getting up from the sofa. "There's some cake left on the table. Don't make a mess."
"You're starting to sound like Mum," Fred said, grimacing.
"Oh, shut up. See you upstairs, 'Mione." Ginny floated out of the living room, a supremely smug look on her face as she glanced at the two of them.
"Cake sounds good," Hermione admitted and the two of them made their way to the dining table.
"Making a mess sounds even better," Fred replied, winking at Hermione. He fished out two plates from a cupboard and plopped to pieces of cake on to them. Hermione and Fred chewed for a while in silence. "You're a really horrible liar, you know that?" Fred remarked as a sardonic smile spread across his face.
"That's not fair, I was being persuaded by a certain someone to tell him something," Hermione said, finishing up her cake. "I didn't have time to collect my thoughts."
"I'm surprised that you, Harry, and Ron have managed not to get caught doing whatever you three get up to all these year," Fred continued, shaking his head and smiling.
"Well, my thoughts are much less scattered around Harry and Ron," Hermione replied, putting her dish in the sink.
"Done already?" Fred asked and joined her by the sink. There was still a quarter piece of cake left on his place. "I was serious about making a mess in the kitchen," He added in a low voice, scooping a bit of icing off the top and plopped on top of Hermione's nose. After a beat, he sucked the small white drop off and kissed the tip of her nose. Fred looked down at her and Hermione had her eyes closed and her hands were clenched onto the edge of the counter. Fred's eyes darkened and he kissed Hermione deeply. She sighed into his mouth and brought her hand around his neck and into his hair. Fred wrapped his arms around her tightly and slipped his hand under her shirt. Hermione's fingers curled in hair. Suddenly, she broke away and put a hand on his chest, breathing heavily.
"Wait," She murmured, her eyes still closed.
"What?" Fred asked impatiently, bending closer to her again. Hermione leaned back from him. He opened his eyes, staring at her hazily. "What's wrong?"
"We should…we should talk to Ron before anything else happens," Hermione said quietly. Fred pulled away from her with effort and nodded.
"You're right," Fred sighed, breathing heavily as well. Clearing his throat, he repeated, "You're right, of course you're right. "
"Well then," Hermione said quietly, eyes twinkling, "Good night, Mr. Weasley." She stood up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. Fred grinned and pressed his lips to her hand.
"Good night, Ms. Granger."