Submitted for The Houses Competition Forum - Round 6
House: Ravenclaw
Subject: Potions
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Speech] "Books have feelings, too, you know."
Word count: 906
AU! No Voldemort. So, obviously, our dearest Freddie lives!
bookish talk
The fire crackled in the hearth as Hermione sat curled up in one of the armchairs nearby, engrossed in a thick tome about advanced defensive spells. Although Bill and Fleur were getting married later that week, Hermione was determined to keep up with her upcoming seventh-year studies, no matter the distractions around her.
Hermione was in the middle of a riveting passage when the door swung open and in strolled Fred and George Weasley. Hermione looked up with a frown and then back down at her book.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Fred teased, sauntering to where Hermione was sitting. "Our dear Hermione, nose-deep in yet another book."
Only mildly irritated by the interruption, Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear and said lightly, "Some of us like reading, Fred."
Fred waved her comment away and leaned over her shoulder to peer at the text. "Defensive spells, eh? Fascinating stuff, I'm sure." Before she could react, Fred snatched the book out of her hands with a swift motion, holding it up above his head, just out of her reach.
"Fred Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up and reaching for her book. "Give it back!
"Books have feelings, too, you know," she added in an exasperated tone.
"Do they now?" Fred mused, an amused spark in his eyes. "Well, in that case, I'll let it have a little vacation." With that, he tossed the book across the room, where it landed with a soft thud on one of the empty couches.
Hermione glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You are absolutely insufferable, Fred."
Fred chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. "I aim to please, Granger."
As Hermione went to retrieve her book, there was a strange flutter in her chest. Fred was always up to something, always trying to annoy her. It was infuriating—yet there was something about it that gave her butterflies in a way she couldn't quite understand.
The day before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Fred approached her again, this time with a strange look on his face—one that she wasn't used to seeing. He seemed almost… nervous?
"Hermione," Fred said, his tone surprisingly serious. "I, uh, made something for you."
Hermione blinked, taken aback. Fred Weasley, maker of mischief and master of pranks, had made something for her? "What is it?" she asked cautiously.
Fred handed her a book, its cover plain and unassuming, just simple black leather with no title. Hermione eyed it suspiciously, her mind immediately jumping to the possibility of a prank. "This isn't some new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product, is it?"
"Not exactly," Fred replied, sounding almost… sheepish. "Just… open it and see."
Hermione hesitated, glancing at Fred's earnest expression before carefully opening the book. She expected something—smoke, glitter, some kind of joke—but what she found instead left her completely stunned.
As she turned the pages, words began to form on the previously blank parchment. At first, they were simple greetings, but as she continued to read, the words grew more personal, more intimate.
Dear Hermione,
You might think this is just another one of my pranks, but it's not. This book is special—it holds my thoughts, my feelings, and everything I've been too scared to say to you in person.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She looked up at Fred, who awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. He murmured, "Keep reading?"
She ducked her head, and her eyes scanned the words, her heart pounding as she realized what Fred was confessing—his admiration for her, his appreciation for her friendship, and most shockingly, his growing affection for her.
I've always admired you, Hermione, more than I've ever let on. You're brilliant, determined, and you never let anything stop you from doing what's right. I've fallen for you, Hermione, and I know this might come as a shock, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer.
Hermione's hands trembled slightly as she reached the final page. There, in Fred's handwriting, was a simple question:
What do you say, Hermione? Would you give us a chance? Give me a chance?
She stared at the page, her mind racing. She had always known Fred to be charming and playful, but this—this was something else. She looked up at him, finding him watching her with a mixture of hope and anxiety. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face.
"You really put your feelings into this book?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with amazement.
Fred nodded, his soft blue eyes never leaving hers. "You told me, Granger. Books have feelings, too."
Warmth spread through her chest as she closed the book gently, holding it close to her. "In that case," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'd love to see where this story goes."
Fred's face lit up with the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. It was full of happiness and hope, and it made an equally wide smile appear on her face. He stepped closer, and before she knew it they were standing just inches apart.
Hermione's heart swelled with the realization that Fred Weasley, the boy who had spent years teasing her, had just handed her his heart through the pages of a book. And somehow, it felt like the perfect beginning to a story she never knew she wanted to be a part of.