Okay folks! As I promised, the chapter that makes this chapter an M rated fanfiction is UUUUUP! I do love me a good romance, and I do love me a good smut every now and then (oh please, like anyone doesn't). Now, to say something awkward, Hermione doesn't have a hymen in this one. I don't like to write about the awkward pain that is losing your virginity, and considering that most girls nowadays lose them without having sex at all, I decided to just make this as awkward free as possible.

You see what I did there J.K? I helped your characters out a bit. I hope that means I can use them a bit longer...please?

Have fun guys! Enjoy!

Oh, and review, or else I might just go insane.

The seasons made their rounds about the burrow, moving from winter to spring in the blink of an eye. The field around the newly repaired burrow had turned a mix of green and gold, shimmering in places like a million blinking eyes. Molly Weasley's remarkable garden had flourished, thanks to her 'secret special blend' of fertilizers. Of course, in the midst of her gardening, Hermione could always here her spouting curses at the gnomes that happened to make their way into the garden, pulling up the daisies and tulips.

But even with the cheerful atmosphere, things were still not well in the confines of Fred Weasley's mind. In fact, they had gotten much worse.

Fred had been sleeping poorly as always. No matter how much he thought of Hermione, hoping to make the nightmares disapperate with the thought of her smile, the nightmares only got darker, and his mind deceived him.

It was the same dream he had been having since the battle. But instead, he was standing to the sidelines, watching as Hermione took his place in the dream, the death eater pointing the deadly green glow of his wand toward her. He screamed, but no sound escaped. He struggled against the invisible bonds holding his feet in place.

But he could do nothing.

"Avada Ke-,"

"NOOO!"

He sat bolt upright in bed, sobbing even before he fully awoke.

Her smell hit him before her arms wrapped around his quivering shoulders. He instantly pulled Hermione onto his lap, pinning her head to his chest as he sobbed into her hair. He tried to prove to himself that this was the reality, that she was alive and in his arms where she belonged.

She didn't understand, but she let him clutch her close. She began to hum, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and remembering the tune her mother used to sing to her when she had nightmares.

"Faire Jaque, faire Jaque, dorme vous, dorme vous…" She continued to hum until his sobbing ceased, his breath evened out, and his heartbeat was no longer galloping out of control. Looking up, she wiped the last remaining tears away from his cheeks. "Better?"

He nodded. "What were you singing?"

"It's called Father John over here. It's traditionally a French song."

"I like it."

She kissed his forehead. "What happened?"

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"In the dream. I know it's difficult to talk about, but what happens in the dream?"

The darkness in his face told her that she wouldn't get it out of him tonight. She had best leave it alone for now.

"Never mind. You don't have to say."

He sighed. "Thank you. I'm just…I'm just not ready to talk about it."

"Well I'm here if you need me. I love you, you know."

He smiled, placed a tender kiss on her lips. "I love you too."

They kissed again…and again…and again, neither of them saying what both of them really wanted to hear. Don't leave me…

They lay side by side, tongues dancing within the confines of lips, hands roaming through hair, along the lean muscles of back. He wound up on top of her again, his legs between hers, leaving her open and vulnerable to the cold air in the room. Fred looked her in the eye.

"Fred…" her hands shook as she reached for him, pulled his weight onto her. She took his hand, placed it on her right breast. "Love me."

The look in her eyes was more than he could bear. The sweetness of the kisses they had been sharing turned into sparks that licked down her stomach to the aching below. She gasped when he flicked at her nipple, barely visible in the moonlight of her white shirt. He pinched, tugged at it, making her squirm beneath his touch. A sweet warmth filled her belly, aching with desire for what he had.

Her eyes widened in shock as he sucked her nipple into his mouth with almost a bruising force. She opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was a sigh. She couldn't describe the feeling, the touch of his tongue over the shirt, the feeling of his other hand moving steadily lower.

She pushed him up, locking eyes with him. They both sat staring at each other, on their knees on the rickety bed, the intensity of the moment hitting them both. Hermione made the first move, pulling the dampened shirt over her head. She hadn't worn a bra, and her underwear was simple, but it didn't matter. Not to him, not to her. The only thing that mattered was what was to come.

"Hermione…" He lifted a hand, groped her breast again. "You're beautiful."

She shifted onto his lap, caressing his head as he dipped lower to nibble on her collarbone. Grinding on one another, Fred continued to nibble downward, the bulge in his boxers rubbing up against her sensitive nub. She arched her back, his tongue trailing to her belly button, swirling there. Then he placed her on the quilt again, only to pull her panties down her thighs, revealing the curls of her womanhood.

She wanted to cover herself up. She wanted to crawl under the quilt, hide his eyes from what was between her legs…

But when he removed his boxers, Hermione's thoughts were not her own.

She wanted to touch it, to taste it, to study it the way she would a book. She lifted a hand to stroke it gently, wrapping her fingers around it, watching as Fred's eyes slowly fluttered downward. He was standing to the side of the bed, trying his best to keep the animal inside of him caged. He loved the innocent look in her eyes, the way she toyed with him, examining him. Her small pink tongue licked the tip of him, and his mind snapped.

He pushed her down on the bed sideways, leaping on top of her, pressing his palm into her wet cunny.

"You're so wet Hermione." He pressed a finger in, her passage tightening around it. "So wet and willing."

"F-fred!" she gasped. "I-I'm…"

He pulled her up onto his lap again, adjusting so that the head of him was just inside her. "You take control."

"I-I can't!"

"Yes you can." He kissed her lips. "Just slide down…slowly…ahhhh…"

She did as she was told, his manhood filling her slowly. She circled her hips, the groan escaping his lips bringing her a sense of power she'd never felt before. She rose up slowly again, fell, the steady rhythm of her heart making out the beat of her thrusts. It was almost tribal, the way they mated. The way their breaths mingled together, the way their lips and tongues met in not quite complete kisses, leaving their skin damp to the touch. She held him close as the heat began to take control, as their movements became faster and faster with each stroke.

Her orgasm came in an unexpected flash, his finger pinching her clit before she had time to realize what he was doing. Her walls clenched to an almost painful degree, her eyes squeezing shut as her body convulsed in ecstasy. He growled, thrusting into her a few more times before calling out her name, a sound she would not soon forget.

Their breathing was ragged, eyes closed as they collapsed on each other, laying down before finally falling into an exhausted sleep, arms and legs tangled in a sweaty mess. Fred had enough energy to pull the quilt out from under them, pulling it up under Hermione's chin. He kissed her forehead, looking at his new beautiful lover next to him.

That night, the nightmares left him alone.

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