** This is a series of drabbles, ficlets and one shots following our dear Fred and Hermione from June of 1995 (shortly before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament) to an as-of-yet undetermined point post-war.**
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20 December 1995
Fred and George had just finished eating lunch in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, discussing moving around the tour they had set up for a storefront the next day so they could visit their father again instead, when there was a knock at the front door. Fred looked sideways at George, who shrugged.
He debated extracting his wand from his pocket, because whoever it was should have been able to unlock it magically, but anybody that was able to even see the door in the first place was somebody that had been there in the past and was privy to the secret. So, instead he just crossed the foyer and turned the handle.
Before it was even fully open, something barreled straight through the entryway and into his chest in a blur of motion. Startled, he stumbled back a step, nearly tripping over the garish umbrella holder in the process.
It wasn't until the smell of lavender hit him that he realised the something currently wrapped around his midsection wasn't a something at all. It was a someone.
"Hermione," he breathed in recognition. Before he could remotely begin to comprehend how she was there, he wrapped his arms around her waist and practically crushed her much smaller frame to him. She let out a tiny squeak as the air was forced from her lungs, but honestly it was all he could do not to grip her even tighter.
"I tried to get here sooner," she said shakily, muffled against his jumper, "but Dumbledore wouldn't let me leave."
He just nodded into her shoulder, not at all trusting his voice not to crack should he attempt to speak. And he didn't loosen his hold on her either, reveling a little in the fact that she was clinging to him just as forcefully. The past thirty-six hours had been an actual living hell; he was exhausted and scared and emotionally sapped. Because, for as incredible as kissing her had been, as much as it had surpassed every fantasy he'd had about it, and there had been many, everything after that had gone completely ass-over-teakettle.
Fred pulled away when he heard a heavy thud, but even then it was only slightly. Looking up, he saw George dutifully heaving Hermione's trunk over the threshold and closing the door, pointedly not looking at the two of them.
"Where do your parents think you are?" he finally managed to ask, albeit a little hoarsely, searching her face. She looked like she was about ready to cry and he instinctively pushed an errant curl off her cheek, as if he'd done it a hundred times.
"School. I made Dumbledore contact them and lie; say that I decided to stay over the holiday to study after all."
"You made Dumbledore contact them?"
She nodded and looked a little abashed. "It was the only thing he could do to stop me from shouting after he said I had to wait for term to officially end to come here."
Fred, who'd been on the receiving end of Hermione's wrath many times, surprised himself and laughed at the idea of her turning it on Albus Dumbledore. He brushed his lips to her forehead just beneath the brim of her knit hat.
"He said your father is okay? Stable, at least."
Fred drew back again and nodded. "We saw him yesterday; they're still trying to figure out how to close the wound, but –"
"Have they tried Boom Berry? That has coagulating properties… Or maybe Chizpurfle fang! I read an article in Brewer's Weekly where a paste made from powdered Chizpurfle fang was used to counteract the venom from an Inland Taipan. Maybe if it were mixed with –"
Whatever else she'd been about to say was abruptly cut off by Fred's lips sealing against hers, swallowing the words. He had a hand on either side of her head, cupping her jaw and holding her to him. The kiss only lasted a second before he broke away, but he felt her relax a bit in his arms, and his own tension eased a little in response.
It wasn't like their first kiss; that had been exciting and new and long-awaited. Kissing her there, in the foyer of Grimmauld Place, amongst all of the fear and concern and relief that was swirling between them was instinctive, as easy as breathing. Like she was an extension of him, holding a piece of his heart that he hadn't fully realised until that moment that he'd given to her.
Before either of them could say anything else though, George loudly cleared his throat.
"Sounds like Ron and Ginny are on their way down," he observed, still examining a stretch of wallpaper on the other side of the foyer.
Fred looked back to Hermione and, reluctant though they both were, understanding passed and they stepped apart. She'd just made it back beside her trunk when Ron and Ginny hit the landing.
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A/N: The next two are Christmas chapters, so put your holiday hats on and make some cocoa!