Fred Weasley groaned mentally as the slender witch leaned over the cauldron on the counter in the back room of his shop. Ever since his near death experience at the end of the Second Wizarding War over three years prior, he and Hermione Granger had been engaged in a bizarre sort of dance. Each and every time he convinced himself her feelings towards him were merely fraternal, she did something like this and knocked him through a loop again.
Having recently completed her Transfiguration mastery, Hermione had accepted a position as the new Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. Until term began three months from now, she had offered to help out in the shop, perfecting some new products. What Fred had not expected was what Hermione would wear while doing so. Instead of the robes he was accustomed to seeing her in, Hermione wore some outfit she claimed all the muggle girls were wearing these days. Hermione wore a dark green vest decorated with some muggle cartoon character, small enough that Fred wondered idly if she had had it since primary school, which left vast swathes of creamy pale skin exposed above her denim trousers, which in turn dipped low below her hip bones displaying her slender abdomen to it's best advantage Fred's mouth grew dry as he wondered if the exposed skin was a soft as he imagined. His eyes glazed over as his thoughts filled with imaginings of slipping behind, sliding his hands across that smooth skin and across the exposed hip bones, of smelling that incredible hair and pressing needy kisses along her long neck, distracting her from the simmering cauldron in front of her.
"...dropper of murtlap essence? Fred? Now, please!"
"Guh?" Fred replied intelligently
"If you don't hand me that dropper of murtlap essence right now, the entire potion will be rui-" she cut off as a cloud of purple smoke burst from the cauldron, enveloping her and spreading rapidly through the room.
Abruptly Fred was rolling down a large hill, crying "Assssss yooooooooooouuuuuu wiiiiiiish!" and wondering why he was suddenly dressed in a black silk Renaissance style shirt and matching mask. He crashed to a stop at the bottom and heard Hermione's voice far above.
"My sweet Fredrick, what have I done?" She cried, followed by the thump, thump, thump, of her body following. Fortunately for Hermione, she was cushioned by Fred at the end of her rapid journey.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" Fred heard himself ask.
"Well, you were dead."
"Death cannot stop True Love. All it can do is delay it for a while." Before Fred could wonder at his response, Hermione's lips were on his, kissing frantically. One hand tangled in her long hair, the other circling her back, feeling the texture of her red linen gown, he responded enthusiastically. A lifetime or a millisecond later, Fred wasn't entirely sure which, he opened his eyes to find himself on his back on the floor of the lab, with a fist full of green cotton in one hand, and a cloud of wild brunette curls in the other, and Hermione lying on top of him, lips swollen and eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Well, I can see I have a great deal of research on the effects of essence of murtlap in Patented Daydream Charms to complete this summer. I wonder where I could find a partner to assist me in that endeavor." And to Fred's shock and awe, the pert little witch winked, jumped up, and sauntered back to her cauldron with a decided sway in her hips.
A/N Things you recognize on loan from William Goldman. But you knew that too.
