Chapter Title: 6 - Defined

Characters: Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley

Description: Set during OotP. No longer at odds after their Christmas row, Hermione and Fred attempt to fall back into the easy friendship they had before until guilt and anxiety press their hand.

Word Count: 2,653

Date Published: 3/14/2014

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

RECAP! Because it's been so bloody long:

Chapter 1: Fred finds Hermione at the top of the Astronomy Tower depressed because non of her friends are speaking to her and she feels terribly alone and vulnerable. Fred talks her off the ledge, cheers her up, and offers her friendship. She agrees but on the condition they not tell anyone because she's embarrassed how he found her.

Chapter 2: Yule Ball! Ron is an arse! Fred cheers Hermione up. Again. He them proceeds to encourage her to live a little. So she kisses cookie-Krum-cake.

Chapter 3: Hermione is hexed through owl post after the article in the Daily Prophet about her stringing along Krum and Harry. Fred waits up to check on her. Delightful awkwardness ensues.

Chapter 4: The fight! George confronts Fred about keeping something from him. Fred then yells at Hermione and might have, unintentionally, implied that he's only friends with her out of obligation. Hermione does not handle it well. Sirius then mocks Fred.

Chapter 5: Fred spends the next few weeks winning Hermione back. Because she nothing if not stubborn and because Dixie Chic requested it to be so. Sirius mocks Fred some more. A few minor hexes are thrown. Hermione does eventually forgive Fred. Dixie Chic is appeased.

'I miss you, Hermione.'

Ink stained fingers brushed tenderly over the messy scroll as Hermione Granger sat idly at her favorite hidden table deep within the stacks of the Hogwarts library. Not twenty minutes ago she had all but run from the hidden alcove Fred Weasley had pulled her into to give her the small, red, leather bound journal which now lay open on top of her stack of homework. Picking it up gingerly, she turned it over in her hand to inspect the craftsmanship and detail of the fine gold stitching that embroidered the edges of the magical journal. It truly was an impressive bit of magic as Fred had explained it to her, able to send messages back and forth between twin journals and a protection charm that prevented any other eyes from deciphering the text.

Practically buzzing in her seat from curiosity, Hermione decided she simply had to know how it worked. Dipping her quill into the ink well, she scratched out a hesitant reply beneath what Fred had written.

'Can you explain how the protection works? How did you charm it to only allow one of us to read it? - H'

Pulling her wand from a pocket in her robes, Hermione tapped the page three times as Fred had instructed, and felt a small thrill of trepidation burn in her chest as the words glowed briefly before returning to normal inky black across the page.

Expecting to wait some time for a reply, Hermione started violently, nearly knocking her ink well across her scattered homework, when she felt the small journal vibrate insistently under her elbow.

'I knew you this would peak your interest. And the protection charm is rather simple. Now you've responded to my initial message, it's tied to the two of us.'

Hermione scowled down at his response, question after question burning through her mind.

'My response sealed it? Then that would make it tied to our wands, wouldn't it? What happens if someone were to steal one of our wands? Would they then be able to read our correspondences?'

His response took longer this time. Hermione's scowl deepened the longer she waited, huffing an annoyed breath at his delay. Finally, the small journal vibrated.

'Tested your wand theory a bit. I nicked George's wand while he was "otherwise occupied" with Angelina. Seems you were right, it is tied to wands. I'll have to experiment further with my initial prototypes to test if someone else can read it while in possession of the owner's wand before we really think about how best to market them.'

Fierce brown eyes widened and her mouth fell open in surprise.

'Fred Gideon Weasley! Have you actually tricked me into testing one of your inventions?'

Fred's response back was immediate.

'Of course not! Well, sort of. Not really?'

'Fred.'

'I'm sticking with sort of. I was honest when I told you I created these for you. Trying to get back into your good graces was certainly my inspiration. But George and me do have plans to open a shop one day soon and why not let something you inspired be available to others? For a small fee of course.'

'I'm unsure if I should be annoyed at being your test subject or delighted to be your inspiration.'

'Delighted. Definitely. Though I must say my only regret is not seeing your face as you realized I finally tricked you into testing one of mine and George's products.'

Despite herself, a small giggle escaped her as she read his last line. Bloody git, she thought good naturedly, not even attempting to fight the grin that had spread across her face.

'How very Slytherin of you, Fred. Really. How did you two ever manage to end up in Gryffindor? I must admit, this was a much more pleasant experience than I ever expected to have result from use of your products.'

'Bite your tongue, you bloody chit! Georgie and I are plenty brave of heart I'll have you know. And I'm offended. I present you with a rare and delightful opportunity and you immediately "repay" my overwhelming kindness by besmirching my shining, golden reputation! I'll not stand for it!'

'Oh? And how do you expect to pay me back for my impertinence then, Fred?'

'Canary Cream hidden in your evening dessert.'

'You wouldn't!'

'Damn. You're right. I wouldn't. Not after that sardine hex you hit me with over holiday.'

'Oh, Fred! I truly am sorry about that.'

'You shouldn't be. It was brilliant. Only way it would have been better is if it had been directed at anyone else. Especially ikle Ronnikins.'

'Is that your favorite invention, then? Canary Creams?'

'Nope. Favorite by far would have to be the Skivving Snack Boxes. Though this journal is turning out to be a close second.'

Pointedly ignoring the blush she could feel coloring her cheeks at his implied compliment, Hermione rolled her eyes at her own childish reaction. It wasn't as if Fred liked the journal because of her, right? He was just proud of his accomplishment.

Forcing down the rolling butterflies fluttering through her stomach, she wrote him back.

'Why Skivving Snack Boxes?'

'Come now, Granger! Surely even you realize there are times in every young witch or wizard's life when there is just something more important than attending class?'

Hermione scoffed, affronted by his blasé attitude. She sniffed imperiously.

'I can't say I agree with that statement.'

'Right. Fortunately, I find that to be one of the more charming aspects of your personality.'

A small growl escaped from her throat.

'Are you making fun of me?'

'Never.'

Eyes narrowed, her lips pursed before breaking up into a smirk at his antics. She felt a pang of longing shoot through her then as she contemplated what to tell him. Hermione hesitated at what she wanted to write next, but the covert nature of the journal made her bold.

'You know I missed you, too. Even when I was so very angry, I missed you. In fact, that I missed you just served to upset me more.'

She felt a tear slide down her nose as she stared at the quickly filling pages, and brushed it away quickly when she felt the journal vibrate once more.

'I really am sorry, Hermione. And while I can't promise you I won't ever screw up again, I can assure you it won't ever be that colossally stupid. I never meant for you to think our friendship was anything other than completely genuine. I'd never do that to you. You do know that, right?'

A small, strangled sob escaped her even as she felt a warmth radiate through her chest. Hermione quickly clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle any other sounds that might try to escape her as she basked in the relief of having her friend back. After a few minutes, she finally composed herself enough to write back.

'I'm sorry too, Fred.'

The pause this time waiting for his response dragged out longer than she expected.

'Not to start another fight, but can you help me understand? I wish you could trust George like I do.'

Hermione floundered long minutes thinking up how to express to him her hesitation. Finally, unable to articulate how she felt, she decided to avoid the question entirely.

'I know, Fred. I do. And I wish I could trust him, too. I feel so guilty. I hate being a wedge between you two.'

'You know, of the two of us, he's the more mellow? When we were younger, and sometimes even now, he would talk me out of doing something I thought, at the time anyway, would be funny but really would have just been cruel. If I'm being completely honest, he's the better person. He always has been the better person.'

Her breath was coming in shallow pants. She couldn't do this to him anymore. She couldn't be the reason Fred and George were at odds. Her normally looping handwriting was shaky and stuttered when she responded.

'I am so sorry, Fred. I'm so sorry for coming between you and George. I can't, I won't do it anymore. I won't make you choose between us. Thank you for thinking of me to make this lovely journal but maybe we should take a break for awhile.'

'No. Hermione, no.'

Hermione bit down on her hand to stifle her sob.

'Fred. I don't want to hurt you any more.'

There was a long pause before he responded again. Her vision grew blurry and clouded as tears filled her eyes and spilled down the soft swell of her cheeks. The journal vibrated.

'Where are you?'

Hermione swiped at her tears in frustration, fighting to see what he'd written to her.

'The library. Why?'

She waited long moments with no response. She wrote again.

'Fred, why?'

Suddenly, she heard pounding footfalls followed by the sharp hush of the school librarian, . Looking around to see where the disturbance was coming from, she just barely held in her startled shriek when Fred skid to a halt in front of her, panting for breath, his face flushed and pulled into a rough mix of anger and apprehension. He stood there a moment, breathing forcefully through his nose, hazel eyes fixed unerringly on hers. Hermione felt the sting of tears once more and dropped her gaze to the cold, stone floor.

After a moment, his feet entered her field of sight. She cringed at the sound of the wooden chair scraping across the floor, and he settled down into it with a huff. Silence returned, heavy and oppressive between them.

Finally Fred spoke, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "You breaking up with me, Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped up at the wet and broken quality of his voice to see his eyes red and shining with unshed tears.

"But… What? Fred?" she sputtered inelegantly, her hands reaching to grasp his without her conscious permission.

Fred clasped her hands back and stared hard into her face. His chest expanded and fell rapidly with increasing panic. "Because that's what this feels like, Hermione, and I'll be damned if I let you block me out again after all the effort I put in to get you to forgive me." He eyed her skeptically a minute, before pulling back from her in obvious concern. "You have forgiven me, right?"

Mutinous tears fell from her lashes and she choked on the knot lodged in her throat. "Fred," she managed to breath, launching herself at him to bury her face in his chest. A muffled sob escaped her when she felt his strong arms wrap tightly around her. Fred rubbed soothing circles across her back and started rocking from side to side. He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing deeply in the scent of vanilla and Hermione, as she did the same to his robes.

Forcing herself to breathe in deep, shuddering breaths, Hermione finally calmed herself enough to ask the question that had been hammering through her mind. "But what about, George?" she croaked through tear strained vocal cords.

Fred's arms tightened around her. "What about him, Hermione?" he demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation. "He suspects. Of course he suspects. But I don't bloody care."

She shuddered before pressing herself more firmly into his warmth. "I won't come between you two like that again, Fred."

He snorted. Weaving his fingers through her riotous hair, he pulled back slightly so he could look down at her earnestly. "And I appreciate the sentiment, Hermione, honest." Fred pressed her head back to his chest once more. "But I agreed. All the way back in fifth year, I agreed to keep him in the dark. And yes," he cut her off as she pulled back to say something, one long finger pressed firmly against her lips. He smirked lightly at her scowl. "It does suck sometimes and I don't like it. But I like you well enough to do it anyway. I don't want to lose you again, Hermione. Please?"

Hermione blinked at him, her warm brown eyes wide in surprise. Her mouth worked silently for a moment before she trusted her voice enough to respond. "You… you like me, Fred?" she whispered, her voice laced with skepticism, hope, and wonder.

A spectacular flush bloomed over his cheeks, engulfing his ears, and racing down his collar. Hermione watched, her gut clenched in apprehension, as his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly.

Horrified at her mistaken assumption, Hermione pulled away from him and climbed to her feet, her face hot, eyes burning. She stared resolutely at the floor even as she stepped back toward the table gathered her things. "Nevermind," she mumbled, shaking her head at her utter stupidity and cringing at how her voice shook.

Her wavering seemed to snap Fred out of his haze. The chair scraped again before large hands wrapped around her upper arms and turned her to face him. Her eyes flicked up to meet his before dropping once more.

"Hermione," he breathed, before clearing his throat.

She shook her head, eyes squeezed closed, wringing her hands in discomfort. "Just forget I said anything?" she pleaded.

"No."

Her head snapped up at his declaration and she looked at him with terrified eyes, a single tear finally managing to spill down her cheek. "What?" she croaked.

Fred swallowed hard once more. "I…" he started, his voice catching in his throat. He coughed once to clear it. "I do, Hermione." He studied her confused expression. "Like you," he clarified, smirking slightly when her eyes went wide in understanding.

"Oh," she breathed, her eyes still comically wide and the heavy knot in her stomach rolling even as it lightened. Her heart nearly erupted out of her chest when he took a small step closer to her and she felt the heat of his body pressing against the length of hers, nearly scalding now compared to moments before when they'd still simply been friends. Hermione felt fingers weaving through her hair once more, but where the sensations before had been merely comforting, this time managed to send chills of pleasure down her spine. Her eyes slid closed at the delightful feelings coursing through her at just his touch and she heard herself moan. Horrified, she stiffened in his arms, her face going crimson.

Fred's chuckle vibrated through her body, his breath ghosting over his face. "Well, that's encouraging," he said before soft lips brushed hers tentatively in a chaste kiss that nevertheless had her body singing in decidedly sinful ways. He pulled away all too quickly to study her reaction.

"Oh," she said again, her eyes fluttering. Fred grinned down at her.

"Alright, Granger?" he asked.

She nodded. "Alright, Fred."

Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, Fred then placed a small kiss on the tip of her nose. Hermione snaked her arms around his neck, relishing the attention. She sighed. "Care to define this?" she asked, warm brown eyes opening to study him.

Fred shrugged. "I think," he said, punctuating his comment with a kiss to the corner of her mouth, "until you're ready to tell everyone..." He squeezed her once when she stiffened, his gaze intensifying as he regarded her. He cleared his throat.

"Until you're ready to tell everyone," he said with more passion. "I think this is just us." Rough fingers brushed her cheek. "I don't really want to define it until there's someone to define it to."

Grimacing, Hermione nodded, her fingers playing with the fringe of hair near his collar. "Just us," she agreed before lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss him once more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry, lovelies! More than a month I've been away, even after the delightful pleas from The May Waters and Sarahbee to continue. I don't even have a decent excuse, except that every time I would sit down to right, I'd be drawn into someone else's fic. I maintain there is a compulsion charm on at least the Harry Potter section of this site. No lie.

Regardless of my pitiful excuses, I do whole heartedly believe any story published here is a contractual obligation of sorts, and as such, I've been remiss in my duties. Especially to those of you brilliant and charming and pretty/handsome enough to leave me reviews. And while I won't ever beg you to leave one, seeing a new review does totally make my day. Even that angry anon one.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is: sorry it's been so long. Hopefully you remembered enough (or breezed through my incredibly thoughtful recap) that you weren't completely lost. And I solemnly swear on Harry bloody Potter that my next chapter will not take so long to post. Though seeing how I don't really ship Harry, it might be more meaningful were I to swear on Fred and George. Mmm... Weasley twins. Hopefully the kissing, chaste though it may be, in this chapter appeased you. If not, feel free to lambaste me in reviews!