Okay, let's fucking go!!!

Fred's POV

Wake up.

Wake up!

"WAKE UP!"

I opened my eyes to a pounding headache and a blonde git standing over me.

"Weasley, wake up! You let her get away!" Malfoy scolded, forcing a nasty smelling potion down my throat.

"Oh my sincerest apologies, though getting concussed by your maybe-ex girlfriend, who can't remember who I am, might be partially to blame!" I snapped as the blonde helped me too my feet.

"Oh stop your whining! It's not like this is your first time being hit over the head by a women, right?" Malfoy asked.

I glared at him, eyebrows raised.

"No. of course not, why would you think that?!"

"Oh. Well. I assumed, your so annoying and seem to think that jokes are always wanted." He countered.

"didn't Hermione punch you in third year for that exact reason?" I shot back.

Now it was his turn to look sour-faced. "I was thirteen!"

"And an asshole!"

"I beg to differ, but enough. We need to focus an finding your girlfriend." The ferret cut over me, pushing past to go down the way she'd gone.

"I'm going to ask the waitress for an address, you should try to figure out where 'mione went!" I hollered, jogging back towards the Queen's dinner.

"Why do I have to track her? She's your girlfriend!" He whined back.

"I already got a concussion, it's your turn!" I replied, turning the corner before Malfoy could answer.

After several minutes of convincing and sweet talk, I'd managed to get Hermione's address (and a slice of trincle tart) from the pregnant blonde women behind the counter.

dashing back into the alley, I pulled out my wand.

Eyes screwed shut, I concentrated, imagining a fall day any a couple years prior.

Morgana's tits it's hot out here! I'd thought to myself as I stood in the small field by my house.

It was summer holi's, my mother having sent me out here to grab Hermione for lunch.

Why me, I will never know.

Maybe Harry and Ron were busy?

Maybe I was the first kid she saw and just asked?

Or maybe, my mum knew -

Aw shit, this was embarrassing.

I had a crush on Miss Hermione Jean Granger. Smartest-witch-of-her-age, third of the golden trio, bookworm extraordinaire.

Why, you may ask? We have nothing in common, how could I like a goodie-two-shoes like her?

Merlin fucking knows!

All I knew was this.

I liked, hell, love Hermione Granger.

From her worn muggle trainers, to the jeans cuffs I'd watched her draw stars on when bored. To her lips, which she bit when reading or drew when thinking.

To her mind, that had saved my brother, Harry, and really the whole world by this point, more then once.

And finally, I fucking loved her hair. Her wonderful, slightly messy, overly curly, perfect hair.

It was the prettiest shade of light brown, like if the wood burning in a roaring fireplace and sweet warm caramel had a baby.

It got in her face, distracted her, grew out of control when she was pissed or stressed.

it was like her hair was just as alive as she was, and I fucking loved it.

I was stuck, because may baby brother loved her too.

he doesn't love her like us, like how we can. I told my self bitterly, but still.

And I couldn't take that away from him. Ron, who never got the spotlight, who never got the attention.

who'd never get this girl.

no, I couldn't think like that!

One, it's HERMIONE'S choice, she not a prize to be won you stupid git!

Two, if Ron loved her (and if she loved Ron!), you should step out of the bloody way! No use making them miserable!

So now here I was, scanning the heat-shimmering field my house sat on, trying to find her.

I glint caught my eye, a watch face. Hermione had taken to wearing one sometime after third for reasons I'd never understood.

Dad had even tried to teach her the time telling spell (tempus vera, to only be used at school of course) but she'd stood firm.

The brunette sat across the way, back against one of the old oaks that ringed the meadow.

I jogged over, noting the messy bun her hair had been pulled into and the cover of the book she was reading. Instead of the usual dusty leather tomes one could usually catch her with, this one was different.

it was new, definitely a muggle book based on the plastic cover. The front also had art, a rather old Timey looking women in the arms of a handsome stoic man.

"Well, well, well. Is miss Hermione Granger reading a romance?!"

She must have been so invested she hadn't noticed me come up, because 'mione jumped a bit.

"It's not a-, what do you care?!" She squawked.

""It's just, miss buzzkill, reading lovey-dovey sap fest? As the world ended?"

"Okay, first off, I'm not a buzzkill-"

"Name one instance in your life that you have not been a buzzkill?"

"I lit snape on fire in first year, besides the point.-"

"You WHAT!"

"secondly. Its not a lovely-dovey sap fest! Pride and prejudice is an incredibly in depth and beautiful piece of literature!"

"His face is literally in her boobs." I shot back plainly.

"No his not. You just don't understand muggle romance, everything in the wizarding world is prudish bullshit!"

"HA! So you admit it was a romance novel!" I yelled.

"I hate you." She snapped back.

"No ya don't." I hummed, plopping down next to her and tilting my head to the side.

She glared at me, that angers little snubbed up nose glare she saved just for nonsense like me.

I stared back, smirking kindly.

we stared together, her eyes widened as the seconds stretched.

"You know, in my book there is this quote that reminds me of you." She said very quietly.

"Yea." I replied, lips pressed together.

"I dearly love a laugh… I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can."Hermione looked expectantly at me.

"You make me laugh?" She prodded.

"I don't know what that means. But your smart and hot and I think I'm think I'm in love with you." I blurted.

The bookworm's eyes widened as she froze in shock.

my throat closed a little and I hurriedly started to stand.

"But clearly you don't feel the same, so I'm gunna go and forget this ever happened and-"

a small but firm hand grabbed mine, tugging me back onto the grass and right up in Hermione's face.

"Let me make this clear. Don't ever assume how I feel again Fredric Weasley." She huffed before lunging forward.

And we were kissing , and it was wonderful. And my hands were in her messy, incredible hair-

A large horse exploded from my wand in powerful blue wisps.

"Malfoy, listen to me. You need to get to the address 8399 florin street, apartment 615. It's on the other side of town, and since neither of us knows where that is we can't apperate.

But don't worry, Hermione once explained this thing called a cab!

your going to call the cab. Their like the night bus. Go to the edge of a busy street and hold your hand up. Maybe wave in around a bit.

a yellow car will pull in front of you, that is the cab. Get inside, tell the driver the address I just gave you and at the end give him some of the muggle paper money I gave you!"

I ordered to the horse, which neighed and galloped away.

let's go get my girlfriend.

again.

done!