Promise Me

Fred had pulled Hermione into an empty alcove. Her back was up against the wall and his hands were gripping her arms tightly.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," he demanded.

"Isn't that my line," Hermione teased, trying to stay brave and not give into her fears about the approaching battle.

Fred shook his head and gave her a crooked smile. "No, your line is: 'Fred, you are so handsome and charming, of course I'll do whatever you ask of me.'"

At any other time, Hermione might have replied by pushing him in the chest and informing him that there was nothing charming about acting like a Neanderthal. She could tell by looking in his eyes, however, that he was only speaking out of concern.

"You don't have to worry," she told him, trying to be comforting. "I can't even remember the last time I did something stupid."

"Besides agreeing to go out with me, you mean," he smiled sadly, his hands now running up and down her arms.

Hermione leaned in closer to him. She wanted to rest against his chest, but held off for fear of breaking down. "I'm quite certain that dating you has been one of my more brilliant moves. How else would I be able to keep up with the developments in the practical joke industry?"

"Which everyone knows are some of the most important questions on the NEWTs," Fred joked quietly.

Not able to stand the distance anymore, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. "I have to stay beside Harry," she informed him, hoping that her explanation would make up for her lack of promise.

"I know," he replied, as one of his hands rubbed circles on her back and the other tugged gently on her hair. "I would never ask you to abandon him, but you don't have to sacrifice yourself…"

"You don't know that, Fred," she interrupted. Pulling away slightly, she wanted to make him understand that during the upcoming fight her only concern would be getting Harry to Voldemort, everything else had to take second place. "No one can be sure what they might find themselves having to do."

Fred closed his eyes, a look a pain flashing quickly across his face. "Promise me," he whispered.

"I can't," she replied, lifting her arms to place them around his neck and kissing his jaw lightly.

Gripping her hips, Fred pulled her tightly against him and hid his face on her shoulder, murmuring words that she could not make out.

Hermione wanted to sob. Life could be so unfair. They had only recently discovered each other, they had just begun to explore what it would mean to be together, and now it all felt so fleeting, so transitory. She felt his lips on her neck, marking her, branding her. "Oh, Fred," she moaned, half pleading for comfort and half begging forgiveness.

He abruptly took at step back, breaking all contact. "What can you promise me, Hermione?" he asked, sounding desperate.

Reaching out to grab his hand, holding it tight, even when he flinched, Hermione was momentarily at a loss. "I don't… I—I'm not sure," she stuttered.

Fred squeezed her hand. "I promise that I'll meet you here after the battle is over, if there is any possible way it can be accomplished," he told her earnestly.

Smiling up at him gratefully, thankful that he given her something to grasp onto, Hermione echoed his pledge. "Yes, after Voldemort has been defeated, if it is in my power, I promise to meet you back here. I will then demand a full and proper recitation of exactly how you feel about me."

"I can live for that," Fred assured her with a grin. He squeezed her hand one more time, before turning to go join George in their assignment to guard one of the secret entrances to Hogwarts.