A Sweetness and a Spice
It was the first weekend of December and spirits were at an all-time high around Hogwarts. The transformation to turn the school into a winter wonderland was underway and the students, professors and visiting guests all marveled as Hagrid dragged a thirty-foot fir tree into the Great Hall. To the confusion of the students, the Great Hall’s ceiling was enchanted to a cooler and brighter icy blue lighting instead of it’s traditional warmer gold hues. Little snowflakes fell from the ceiling, thanks to Flitwick’s charms and the Hogwarts students watched as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang guests ducked their heads or held their hands out to try and catch the magical snowflakes in their palms. Holiday time was Hermione’s favourite time of the year. When she was little, she visited the local Father Christmas in the shops of her hometown, baked biscuits with her mum and watched festive movies with her dad. She opened one present on Christmas Eve and then in the morning, she snuggled into her parent’s bed and her father had brought them all breakfast in bed. The rest of Christmas Day typically continued with present opening, family visiting and then hot cocoa before bed. For that one day, each year, life seemed perfect.
Hermione sighed and looked away from the enchanted snowflakes. She focused her attention on the newspaper in front of her and gasped at what she saw. Like she had predicted, the sight of herself and Harry hugging and then pulling apart replayed over and over on loop. The article called her “plain but ambitious” and said that she had set her romantic sights, not on Harry, but on Viktor Krum. Oh, how very wrong that article was. What’s more, Hermione hadn’t done anything to fuel the rumours of her and Viktor being an item as they had barely spoken. He had approached her the day after the first task and asked her why she had interrupted the Champions’ tent. The brightest witch explained that Harry was becoming alienated and he deserved some support. Viktor had nodded, listening intently, and the two had walked the grounds together for a bit, getting to know each other a little better. She couldn’t deny that he had a charm about him, but he was awkward when he wasn’t in the air and she wasn’t too keen on him, in the romantic sense. How did Rita Skeeter see our one conversation? Hermione wondered as she flipped through the newspaper’s thin pages. No matter, I suppose. She is staying at Hogsmeade and comes up to do research for her articles. Maybe she just put two things together. Harry sat down across from her and she watched her friend’s eyes flick to the picture on the front of the newspaper. He sighed and rubbed his temples.
“Can’t my love life be my business?” he asked. “Nothing is ever bloody private.”
Hermione reached her left hand forward and gave the back of Harry’s left hand a pat with her fingers reassuringly.
“Harry, you, of all people, are most deserving of a private life,” she affirmed. “Now, eat up before Ron comes, you know how he is with breakfast.” She brought her hand back to her personal space and continued to flip through the newspaper. As she picked up a piece of marmalade-covered toast and brought it to her lips, she happened to flip through to the WANTED section of the advertisements. She saw that there were a few empty shop spaces in Diagon Alley. She grinned. Maybe Flourish and Blotts will expand! The last she remembered, the owners had debated over adding some popularized Muggle novels into their store’s selection. It would be nice to have more inclusion.
Ron joined Harry and Hermione a few minutes later. He sat down at the Gryffindor table with a yawn and greeted Hermione with a sleepy “Good morning.” He grabbed some toast for himself as well as a custard tart and some baked beans and some sliced strawberries. A bit of an odd combination, Hermione thought with a small grin. Oh well, Ron eats pretty much everything anyway.
When breakfast had begun to magically clear itself away, the students were surprised by an announcement that resounded throughout the school grounds in the middle of the day. Dumbledore’s voice.
“Good afternoon, Hogwarts. I hope you are enjoying this sunny winter’s day. All fourth to seventh year students are to report to their Head Boys or Head Girls. They will lead you to your Head of House who has an important announcement to make. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visitors, please report to your Head Teacher. That is all.”
“I swear, he gets more cryptic every year,” Ron commented as the trio got up from their benched seats and packed their things. They walked down to the end of the Great Hall, where their Head Boy and Girl stood, waiting to collect them. When most of the students seemed ready, they all walked together in little packs throughout the castle, like baby ducklings following their mother.
Hermione was a little annoyed - after all, she had planned to finish her Transfiguration assignment this afternoon. She supposed that it would have to wait until another day. The Gryffindor students filed down an unfamiliar corridor, lined with large windows near the ceiling that allowed much natural light to enter. When they turned into the last chamber at the end of the corridor, they noticed a large wooden round table near the entrance with two-toned wood and a mirror tucked into the corner. The girls all walked towards the empty benches on the right side of the room. As Hermione found a seat on a bench, she made a mental note to ask Harry to look up the chamber location on the Marauder’s Map when he next had the chance.
The students continued to gather from their respective activities with girls on the right and the boys to the left. Fred and George Weasley sauntered in, along with their best friend, Lee Jordan. Hermione watched Fred’s push his sleeves up as he walked and she found herself admiring his forearms again, like how she had done the week before. She was drawn to his freckles and wondered if she would ever have the opportunity to try and make constellations with her fingers across his skin.
The trio of pranksters stood alongside the opposite wall and their eyes swept over the selection of girls opposite them. When Fred noticed Hermione sitting near the front, he smirked and shot her a wink. Then he turned his head and muttered something in Lee’s ear, making the other wizard laugh in surprise. A few other boys smirked or chuckled around the outburst and Fred grinned wickedly. Whatever he had just shared had been too good to resist. Did he say something about me? Hermione wondered aloud. No, surely not. There’d be nothing to say anyway.
She shook off the feeling of brief discomfort and continued to look along the line of boys, searching for other familiar faces. She managed to catch Harry’s eye and the two friends waved at each other. Ron sat beside Harry and seemed to be trying to hide in place, shrinking down into his seat and glowering. He was clearly uncomfortable with not knowing what was going on. Hermione’s attention turned back to Fred when the older Weasley lifted his right hand to quickly brush his long fringe out of his eyes. He caught Hermione watching him again. To her delight and surprise, he raised his eyebrow at her and grinned - there was something about that grin that didn’t seem so innocent. Then he mouthed the words, “See something you like?”
Knowing he watched her, Hermione pointedly looked at his lips and then back up to his eyes. This made Fred’s smile change from devilish to boyish and he grinned from ear-to-ear. “It’s the last Saturday!” he mouthed. He would be brewing the Draught of Despair for Snape next week and if he managed to get an Outstanding on it... he could kiss her. That had been their deal.
Hermione giggled and ducked her head so that he wouldn’t see her blush. She was saved by the sound of the chamber doors opening and Professor McGonagall entered the room with quick strides; her cloak billowed lightly behind her. She came to rest beside the large round wooden table and was followed by Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts school. The older man looked like his legs were about to give out as he huffed and puffed into the room, carrying an oversized gramophone. He placed it on the wooden table, produced a sleeved record from inside his thick, rumpled jacket and handed it to the Deputy Headmistress. The caretaker backed away to stand beside the opened chamber doors and Mrs. Norris, his cat, curled herself in a figure eight around his ankles. He picked her up and cuddled her close to his chest.
McGonagall waited until all of her students were silent and then she smiled.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted warmly. She received a small chorus of greetings in return and then the older witch started to pace lightly around the room, making sure to give her attention to every young pupil. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why you have been summoned here for the next two hours. Don’t worry, I will be done by the time that the Gryffindor Quidditch team is supposed to have their practice. Don’t fret. Especially you, Potter, although I have to say, I’m not sure how you’re going to fly with a bandaged arm.”
“Don’t worry about me, Professor,” Hermione watched Harry respond. He wiggled his hand in his sling to show he still had some movement. “I’ve had worse.”
McGonagall made her way back to the front of the chamber to stand beside the gramophone. Harry’s little joke had been the understatement of the century. “Potter, that’s enough of that,” she chastised. But everyone could see that she was trying hard to suppress a smile.
“As you all know, Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. That being said, we are to uphold all of its traditions and that includes a special celebration around the holidays.” Hermione watched their professor pause and excited murmurs started up in the chamber the girls and boys whispered amongst each other about this exciting development.
But there was more.
“This special event is called the Yule Ball,” Professor McGonagall continued. “It has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity.” She emphasized these last words and her gaze darted over to where Fred, George and Lee snickered, huddled up together. “As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost -”
Here the older witch paused and cast one more look around the chamber to all of her charges.
“- A dance.”
The girls instantly began chattering amongst themselves, Hermione included. They were excited.
“Can you believe it, a dance?”
“What do I wear?”
“Do we need dates?”
“I wonder if I can ask for a dress for Christmas!”
The boys, on the other hand, were more resigned and groaned.
“A dance? Why?”
“We’re going to have to dress up?”
“We’re going to have to get a date?”
“Silence!” McGonagall commanded, raising her hands to subdue her students. They were quiet immediately. She pressed on. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons!” She fixed her lips in a terse line. Out of the corner of Hermione’s eye, she could see George and Fred muttering to themselves again.
“Now to dance is to let the body breathe,” McGonagall said, a smile on her lips again. She held her arms wide and allowed her body to open up, expand and be more inviting. “Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers ready to burst forth and take flight. Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance! Ah, Mr. Weasley!” Hermione grinned as Fred, George and Ron all flinched at the sound of their last name and came to attention. McGonagall bustled over to Ron and asked him to stand up. She brought him to the middle of the room. “Place your right hand on my waist.”
“Where?” Ron asked, incredulous, to the titters and jeers of his classmates. Some whistled, othered made sounds of approval, egging Ron on.
“My waist,” McGonagall repeated. She placed his hand on her waist for him, since he seemed stunned and took his left hand with her right. “Now, extend your arm -” Another wolf-whistle. And now they were in position. “Mr. Filch, if you please?”
Filch walked forward from his place at the chamber entrance and removed the record from its sleeve. He added it to the gramophone and put the needle to the record. There was a scratch that filled the room and then a soft waltz played, full of horn instruments. McGonagall started leading Ron in a waltz around the room. The boys all looked like they were going to take the piss from him later and Ron looked like he was going to be sick. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand so that he couldn’t see her laugh when they swept by and she spotted Harry say something to Fred and George while gesturing to Ron. Oh dear. This was going to be a joke for years to come. In a few short minutes, Ron and McGonagall finished dancing. The Weasley boy scampered back to his place on the bench beside Harry, who clapped him on the back. And then McGonagall said, “Everybody come together!” The girls, Hermione included, all got up rather quickly. When the boys seemed less than enthused, McGonagall turned to snap at them. “Boys, on your feet!”
Neville was the first to rise.
Every ten minutes or so, the girls and boys switched partners. When it was Hermione’s turn to dance with Ron, they both had tried to lead, resulting in them almost falling over. When it was Harry’s turn, Hermione had to put both of her hands on his shoulders since his one arm was caught up in a sling. His good hand rested on her waist and they smiled at one another.
“I’m happy you and Ron made up,” she said after a moment. “If I’m honest, it was getting to be rather annoying running messages in between you both.”
Harry looked sheepish. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. He fixed his expression to a look of pure innocence. “I just thought you both would be the ones to understand that I didn’t put my name in.” Hermione nodded.
“I believed you from the start, Harry. I just think that maybe Ron sometimes feels - overshadowed, maybe? Not from what you’ve done, of course, but just by the fact that you are The Chosen One.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s done with now and we’re friends again and that’s all I care about. You two are the most important things to me.” Hermione smiled up at Harry.
“Thanks.”
They danced slowly together, swaying side to side until McGonagall gestured for them to switch again. When Hermione’s left hand was taken, she was spun around and into the arms of Fred Weasley. It wasn’t a perfect twirl, but it was fluid enough to make Hermione wonder if he had ever danced prior to this. He placed his left hand on her waist and his right squeezed her fingers as he held up her arm to guide them. He was so much taller than she was. The brunette craned her neck a little to look up at the redheaded wizard.
“Hello, you,” she greeted. Fred grinned boyishly again.
“Hello you,” he replied. They spun for a few turns, not saying anything. Simply gazing at each other seemed to be enough. Then Fred said, “Tell me something.” This caught Hermione off-guard and her brows furrowed together with confusion.
“What do you want to know?”
Fred chuckled.
“Earlier, when I caught you looking, what were you thinking about?” he asked. He had lowered his head a little so that it was easier for her to hear him over the sound of the waltz playing and their peers around them chatting as they tried to dance and not maim each other’s toes. Hermione laughed softly.
“Maybe that’s something I’ll keep to myself,” she said with a grin. But Fred shook his head.
“Oh no, Granger, I don’t think so. No, you don’t get to hold the upper hand with everything.” He spun her around, once, twice, then brought her back to him. They were almost chest-to-chest. “First, making up this rule that I can’t kiss you and now this? You’ve got some nerve.”
His expression changed and his eyes took on that dark quality that she was growing to crave.
“Now, tell me.” A command this time.
Hermione’s chest warmed and she allowed herself to move a little closer to Fred. There was no point in hiding.
“The first time you caught me, I was admiring your arms.” She let her gaze dart over to her peripheral vision to point out where his arm and hers were both raised, hands still pressed together. “I rather like them, actually.”
“My arms?” Fred repeated, not losing the dark spark in his eyes. Hermione nodded and decided to continue.
“Yes. You’re toned without being too muscled. I think I like that. And your freckles. I like them, too.”
This amused Fred. Hermione hadn’t been so open with him before. “And what about the second time?”
“The second time you caught me staring was when you said today was your last Saturday of our deal. It led me to thinking about the fact that if you brew a perfect draught next week, you get to kiss me.”
She watched as Fred sucked in a breath, losing his composure. He took a minute, continuing to dance with her in circles. He had become a little flustered now and Hermione thought she had the upper hand until he looked back at her. His eyes were dark again. He leaned down a little closer, his lips brushing against her forehead for a flash of a second. His voice was deep as he changed his tone to be more enticing, more – well, just more.
“And would you like that, Hermione?” he asked against her skin. The air between them was palpable and the witch fought the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and snog him right then. “Would you like me to kiss you? I think I know the answer.” The hand that held hers gave it another light squeeze. “Or should be asking you where?”
Hermione was confused for a moment. “Where would I like you to – ” It clicked. Oh.
She blushed and her eyes shot downward to watch their feet circle on the floor. Fred chuckled and then backed away from her by a few inches, done with teasing her. Hermione’s head spun and it wasn’t from the waltzing.
Before she mustered up the courage to say anything else, a finger tapped her shoulder, asking to cut in. Her turn with Fred was done. She found herself swept up into the bumbling arms of Neville, who apologized every time he stepped on her foot. Over the next ten minutes, they grew smoother together. As Neville’s confidence grew, Hermione watched her friend actually start to enjoy himself. Each time he successfully spun her, they shared a small laugh together. And when the music ended, Hermione gently patted his shoulder. He had done well for their first day.
“You’re doing great, Neville,” she encouraged, making the shy boy grin. She gave him a little wave goodbye as she returned to her side of the chamber with the rest of the girls.
When it was time to leave, Hermione pushed her way through a group of girls and met up with Ginny. The two decided to spend the rest of their afternoon outside to enjoy the last of the sunshine in the crisp December air. As they left the chamber, Hermione chanced a look over her shoulder to see that Fred was watching her.
“Last Saturday!” he mouthed when he caught her eyes. Hermione grinned before she stop herself and turned back to Ginny. The younger witch had noticed where Hermione looked.
“What are you looking at my brother for?” she asked with a smirk. Hermione quickly passed off the interaction and Ginny didn’t ask again. The two girls set off back down the corridor from whence they had come and ventured out to the quad.
-
By the middle of the following week, Hogwarts was decorated in full with all of the baubles, wreaths, garlands and candles that turned the school into a winter wonderland. Hermione, Harry and Ron talked about the Yule Ball on occasion. They had no idea who to ask. Hermione, on the other hand, had only one person on her mind. But she waited. Being asked to dance was supposed to be magical, life-changing, possibly romantic; she wanted that movie moment. She wanted it to be special.
On the Thursday night, the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had a special Hogsmeade trip planned. It was an extra trip so that the students could do some shopping to prep for the holidays. As Ron and Harry were behind on their schoolwork, they decided to stay behind. Ginny had already agreed to go with some of her third-year friends and so Hermione went along on the trip by herself. The first real snowfall of the season started producing light and fluffy flakes. She was grateful that her Gryffindor hat and scarf were tight-knit; the fabric trapped the heat near her head. The walk to Hogsmeade led her through the Hogwarts gates and along the main path that led from the castle towards Hogwarts station. It forked off to the right and that was where the students travelled, walking a few more miles to get to the little town.
When Hermione got into Hogsmeade, her first stop was Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop. She ordered an apple cinnamon tea with a cinnamon stick and sat at a table near the window, looking out at the crowds of students that passed by. She blew on the surface of her tea to cool it and was about to take a sip when someone knocked on the window to get her attention. Her eyes drifted over to see that Viktor Krum stood outside, a gaggle of girls behind him.
She gestured for him to come inside and he rushed in quickly. The Durmstrang student sat down across from her and shrugged out of his furred coat. He looked through the window at where the gaggle of girls pressed against the glass. Fawning like that was embarrassing.
Viktor ran his hand through his hair. “Help me, Herm-own-ninny,” he pleaded. “These girls – they’re driving me crazy.”
“Are they all asking you to be their date to the Yule Ball?” she asked. The Seeker nodded. Hermione started to drink her apple cinnamon tea, allowing Viktor the space to vent.
“They follow me everywhere. They are on shore when we leave our boat. They are in the halls when we leave our classes. They are sitting beside us while we eat.” He scoffed and looked to the Hogwarts student. “Have any of your Hogwarts women ever dated men before?”
This caused Hermione to choke on her tea and she snorted with laughter. Some of her tea dribbled down her chin and she wiped it up quickly with a napkin.
“I’m sorry, are you calling yourselves men?” she asked after a moment. Viktor’s reaction was to puff out his chest. He didn’t want his masculinity called into question by anyone, that was clear.
“We are Bulgarian,” he said as if that answered everything. “There are no greater men anywhere in the world.”
“So you say.” Hermione grinned into her tea cup. “But be that as it may, we Hogwarts girls don’t always fawn over brute strength and muscles. Some of us like men with some brains and intellect, craftiness.”
Now it was Viktor’s turn to laugh. “I don’t see too many boys at Hogwarts with too many brains,” he replied. Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. It was nice that Viktor was talking to her. She returned to her tea and Viktor waved over Madam Puddifoot herself to ask her for a hot chocolate. The shop owner recognized Krum right away and offered to give him anything he wanted for free. Hermione’s eyes widened and she held out her hand to stop the sweet older witch.
“No, he’s perfectly capable of paying you full price. And he will,” she interjected, looking between Krum and Madam Puddifoot.
Viktor looked a little putout as the older witch waddled off. Hermione fixed her gaze on him.
“You can’t expect to get whatever you want just because you’re a handsome Quidditch player, you know,” she told him plainly. “Life isn’t fair and stuff shouldn’t be free.”
Viktor chuckled. “You think I’m handsome?” He leaned forward in his chair. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear but didn’t say anything more and drank another sip of tea, looking at him from over the brim of the cup. When he got his hot chocolate and paid for it, he took a large sip and came up with a mustache made of whipping cream. Hermione burst into little giggles and gestured for him to wipe it off. Perhaps befriending Viktor was a good idea. When she handed him a napkin so that he could wipe his mouth, a flash of light came in through the window, causing Hermione to flinch. When her eyes refocused, she saw that Rita Skeeter’s blasted camera floated in the air on the other side of the window. The shuttered snapped widly, trying to get all of Hermione and Viktor’s angle. Rita Skeeter ran up to her camera with her Quick Quotes Quill and pushed her way through the front doors of the little tea shop.
“I can see it now!” the sneaky witch proclaimed as she rounded on the Bulgarian Quidditch player and the Hogwarts student. “On a romantic date right before the Yule Ball. Tell me, Viktor, is this young lady the one who you’re taking as your date? Or better yet, is she your girlfriend?” Her enchanted quill scribbled back and forth along its floating pad of paper. When both Viktor and Hermione didn’t respond, Skeeter pressed further and started to narrate her future article aloud.
“Hermione Granger, aged 14, no longer the plain ugly duckling it seems as she joins Bulgarian bon-bon Viktor Krum for a date at Madam Puddifoots!” Hermione stood up in anger, knocking her teacup over by accident and her hands curled into fists. The camera snapped her rage. Krum looked between Skeeter and Hermione and stood up, stepping in front of Hermione to shield her.
“Who I choose to go to this Ball with isn’t of your concern,” he told her sharply. “It just so happens that Herm-own-ninny is very kind to me. She has been my first friend here at Hogwarts. I would be lucky to have her as my date but I haven’t chosen yet.” The Quidditch player stood tall, daring the reporter to come closer. “Now get out.”
Rita Skeeter smirked and peered around Viktor to where Hermione still stood, fuming.
“First Potter and now Krum,” Skeeter taunted as she walked around Viktor to get to the front door of the shop. “You’re developing quite the reputation for yourself, Miss Granger.” It was a warning. The vile woman left the shop and Hermione sat down with relief. Her left leg bounced up and down with adrenaline and Viktor looked at her sympathetically.
“Are you okay, Herm-own-ninny?” he asked. He looked from his friend’s face to her spilled tea. “Do you want me to buy you another one?” Hermione shook her head and muttered to Viktor that she had to go. Viktor looked a little hurt but understood. He offered to walk her back to the castle but she declined and told him that she would see him later. On the way out, she muttered an apology to Madam Puddifoot’s for spilling her tea. The motherly witch told her to pay no mind and wished she had a better afternoon. Then Hermione bundled up and stepped back into the cold of the outdoors.
Rather than heading back to the castle, she decided to go into Honeydukes to see if they had anything new to try. She spent several minutes walking around the store, deciding exactly on what she wanted. The scents and flavours were all so tempting and, in the end, the witch chose salted caramel chocolates and went to stand in line to pay. When she was next in line to pay, she felt something or someone brush against her back. She turned around to see Fred Weasley standing directly behind her. He was holding some flavoured toffees. George was behind him, holding a singular bag of jellied slugs.
“Hello, Granger.” Fred’s voice was smooth, like Firewhiskey and his eyes roved over her from head to toe. As he spoke, the redhead moved his right arm around Hermione’s waist and gave her right hip a squeeze. As briefly as it had happened, Fred moved his hand back into the pocket of his jacket. Hermione’s eyes flitted to George to see if he had noticed but the other Weasley twin was too absorbed in looking out the window at some Beauxbatons girls walking past the shop. Fred nudged George in the ribs and tilted his head quickly in Hermione’s direction.
“Oi, say hello!” he chastised. George Weasley had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught ogling. He looked from Hermione’s face down to the bag of sweets in her hand.
“Hello, ’Mione. What’re you getting?” he asked. Chocolate something, by the looks of it, but that didn’t quite narrow it down. He gestured with his chin towards the bag.
“Just some caramels, salted ones,” Hermione replied, happy with her selection. She stepped up to the cashier and made some small talk with the witch before adding, “Can I pay for these two as well, please?” The witch looked from Hermione to the twins and eyed what they were holding, adding it all up with the machine.
“Oh, come on, Hermione, you don’t need to pay for us,” Fred insisted but Hermione shushed him with a look.
“Consider it an early Christmas present,” she insisted, reaching into her pocket for her money. She handed over the correct change and then turned back to the boys. “Right, let’s go!” They pushed through the crowded shop to get back to the door, Fred’s hand on her lower back to guide her through like he had in the stadium after the first task. Hermione noticed he touched her more often now - not that she was complaining. They finally made it out into the cold and Hermione tugged her knitted hat back down over her ears. George pocketed his bag of jellied slugs and told Fred and Hermione he was going to catch up with them at the castle. He had spotted the same Beauxbatons student he had seen earlier with her friend near the Three Broomsticks and wanted to see if she was still there. He was going to ask her to the Yule Ball. They watched as he jogged off and then Hermione turned back to Fred. The snow started to collect on the folded brim of his knitted hat and she reached out her free hand to brush some off. She realized he was staring at her, though she couldn’t place the emotion behind his gaze. It was soft and perceptive, almost … admiring. She pushed the thought from her mind.
“What shall we do?” she asked with a little smile. She didn’t want to go to the castle quite yet.
“We can just go for a walk?” Fred suggested. “Maybe get a Butterbeer in a little bit?”
The younger witch nodded and the two walked side by side for a while. The snow continued to crunch under their boots and the faint melody of carollers could be heard from somewhere in the distance. They passed several shops, all decorated for the Christmas season. Some were lit up in festive colours, others had themed displays. It reminded Hermione of what London looked like at holiday time. She felt a wave of longing and sadness that came with the fact that she missed her family. She thought Fred hadn’t seen but when she glanced over at him, she saw he looked worried.
“Sickle for your thoughts?” he asked. Hermione shook her head and put her bag of toffees in her pocket.
“Nothing to worry about, I just miss home sometimes.”
Fred’s mouth drew into a thin line, a trait he shared with the Weasley matriarch, Molly. They both did it when they were concerned.
Hermione continued, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it. “I remember that I’m better off here.”
The Weasley brother adjusted the collar of his jacket to shield from the cold. “What do you mean” he asked. When she remained tight-lipped, Fred shook his head and pointed to the nearest stone bench.
“No, really. Hermione, if something’s bothering you, let’s talk about it.”
He removed his wand from inside his coat and pointed it at the stone. It glowed for a moment and then steam started to rise from its surface. He had cast a heating charm. He led her over by placing a hand on the small of her back and encouraged her to sit down. They each swung a leg over the bench so that they straddled the stone, facing each other. Hermione sighed and tried to get up but something in Fred’s eyes commanded her to stay in one place. She squirmed as she found a comfortable position and then set her bag of salted chocolate caramels in between them on the bench. He did the same with his own bag of toffees.
Fred waited for her to start speaking again. He was patient but firm, something that she hadn’t expected to be personality traits for Fred Weasley. When she realized she wasn’t going to get away with not telling him anything, Hermione sighed and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead.
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “When I am at home, I have to hide part of who I am. And I hate that. My parents love me, I know that. And I know they support me with being a witch but they don’t understand the full picture. They have no idea how to truly grasp the double life that I feel like I’m living. For example, you were able to tell your parents about Harry going toe-to-toe with Quirrell and You-Know-Who when we were in first year. Ron was even congratulated for playing a life-sized game of wizard chess. I couldn’t tell my parents that Harry had almost been killed.”
Fred’s eyes never left her face as she opened up. His eyes were wide and he drank her words in with full attentiveness. He didn’t interrupt and implored her to keep going silently.
“In second year, Dumbledore wrote to my parents to tell them I was gravely ill with some hardly known sickness. He didn’t tell them I had been Petrified. They would have no concept of what that means. And if they did, the shock it would have put them through would have been too much.”
She opened her pack of salted caramel chocolates and took one out, popping it into her mouth and sucking on it. She noticed Fred smirked at that but didn’t make a comment.
“Then when I went home at the beginning of summer, I couldn’t exactly tell them that we had a presumed murderer break into the school and that our teacher ended up being a werewolf and no, wait, update - that presumed murderer is actually innocent and Harry’s godfather. The point is, if I ever told them the truth, the full truth, they would never let me come back. And back in Muggle school, I didn’t have any friends. No one wanted to be friends with the bookish school girl. They all wanted me to be something I’m not. Here… well, I have friends that love me. And accept me for who I am. I don’t want to risk losing that.” She held out her mitten-covered hand to Fred, palm up. “Can I have a toffee, please?” She was scared of having been so vulnerable and was trying to change the subject. Fred opened the wax paper bag and handed her one. It was brown in colour and Hermione discovered it tasted of chocolate mousse. She closed her eyes as the toffee melted on her tongue and made a little sound of pleasure at how good the flavour was. When she opened her eyes, Fred was smirking.
“Can I have a chocolate, please?” he asked. She opened her bag of salted caramel chocolates and picked one out for him, placing it into his palm. Fred popped it into his mouth and grinned as the bits of salt mixed with the caramel on his tongue. Hermione swallowed her toffee.
They shared their sweets for a few minutes longer. The wind picked up a bit and the sun faded behind the clouds. It was almost night. “Should we head back?” Fred asked. “Not that I’ve ever been one for curfews but –
Hermione shook her head and stood up from the bench. She swung her leg back over the top and waited for Fred to do the same. He mirrored her actions and she adjusted to looking up at him again as she put her sweets bag back in her pocket. “Let’s see if Madam Rosmerta has any of those paper to-go cups left,” she suggested. “I want a Butterbeer before we leave.”
As they headed over to the Three Broomsticks, the redhead and the brunette talked about everything and nothing. They reveled in this time to get to know one another. She found out that his Boggart last year was revealed to be You-Know-Who. She admitted hers had been bad grades. Now, she supposed her biggest fear would be losing her friends, forever. She loved Harry and Ron, the extra family she hadn’t known she needed. They made her feel like she belonged.
The two entered the Three Broomsticks and Fred pointed to a corner booth. Hermione removed her coat and draped it on the hook fixed to the wall beside her. Fred went to the bar and brought back two Butterbeers a few minutes later, filled to the brim with whipping cream and butterscotch drizzle. Hermione grinned. The scent was heavenly. Fred watched as Hermione brought her glass mug to her lips and took a tentative sip, careful that it wasn’t too hot.
“You have quite the taste for sugar, eh?” He looked amused. “First the salted chocolates with the caramel bit and then the Butterbeer. Didn’t you say your parents tended to people’s teeth?”
Hermione fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them and I am excellent with my oral hygiene, I’ll have you know.” Why did I just say that?! Fred laughed and took a sip of his own Butterbeer. As he licked the whipping cream off his upper lip and set his glass mug back down on the table, Fred’s eyes flickered to hers. Their gaze locked. Hermione watched Fred take a deep breath and then -
“HermioneIpassed.” The statement was said in a rush of air, as if he was scared that he wouldn’t admit it. It came out jumbled, all one word.
Hermione froze in her seat. She was shocked. “I’m sorry?” she asked, wanting him to say it again.
Fred sucked in a breath and ran both hands through his long ginger hair. Maybe I shouldn’t have put a prize on his grade, Hermione thought. Too much pressure. She leaned in closer to him. “Fred? Come on, tell me.”
Fred’s hands moved to rest on top of the table on either side of his Butterbeer. “I still don’t quite believe it myself but I passed,” he replied. It took another second and then Fred’s eyes widened as if he had just realized what he saying. He grew excited. “Hermione, I passed! I passed!” He jumped up from his chair and moved around the table, sidling in next to her. His excitement was infection and Hermione felt herself break into a large smile of her own!
“With an Outstanding, no less!” Fred continued. “And Hermione, you’ll never believe it. Snape was actually impressed! Of course, the dirty rat tried to accuse me of cheating but couldn’t since he had watched me practice making the draught himself during those detentions. I did it!”
Hermione squealed and wrapped her arms around Fred’s neck for a hug, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “Fred, that’s amazing! Well done, you!” She squeezed him tightly and felt his arms automatically wrap around her waist. “I knew you could do it!” She felt his own chin tuck into the bushy mane that was her hair and he breathed deeply. When they pulled away from each other, Hermione kept her hands on his shoulders and he kept his hands on her waist.
“So what are you going to do now?” Hermione asked. Her gaze darted from her Butterbeer on the table to Fred’s face in front of hers. “Did getting an O in Potions change anything for you? Are you thinking of any different careers?” She was teasing, of course. She knew Fred and George had their hearts set on something to do with their jokes and pranks. They just needed a hand in the market.
“It changed one thing for me,” Fred admitted. His right fingers gently brushed along her waist through her jumper as he spoke. “It made me realize that I can do more with my life if I have a great motivator.” Brown eyes locked and Hermione bit her lower lip. Fred pressed on. “You’re a great motivator, Hermione. I’ve noticed that you always encourage the people around you. Even with the dance practice the other day… you helped Longbottom keep at it. He’s going to be the best dancer out of all of us by the end of this and that’s all because you said something.”
Hermione smiled and looked down at her lap. “Honestly, Fred, I’m just a nice person. It has nothing to do specifically with motivation. I want my friends to be happy.”
“Could I make you happy?” Fred asked. The witch hadn’t expected that question. She looked back up from her lap to Fred and let her hands trail from his shoulders down to his chest.
“I think you already have,” she replied after a pause. “I think you make me laugh and you’ve given me something to look forward to. And I like that. That makes me happy.”
Fred smirked. “Bloody hell, Granger, you know that’s not what I meant.” He looked down at her hands on his chest. “You’ve been in my head. And I can’t get you out. You’ve bewitched me, little bookworm.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the little pet name he had made for her and he chuckled softly. “Fine, I’ll pick another one,” he promised. “But I’m serious, you know. About you.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly serious about anything,” she retorted. She went to take a sip from her Butterbeer, turning her head to look at her drink, when Fred cupped her cheek with his hand and turned her back to face him.
“Kiss me, Granger.” His eyes had darkened but his voice was still light, airy, almost breathless. Hermione swallowed once. His thumb stroked her left cheek and he kept looking between her eyes and her lips. He wouldn’t kiss her without her consent, that she knew. When she didn’t answer or move in right away, his hand slid from its position cradling her cheek to holding the left side of her throat gently. His thumb continued to brush along her skin, reassuring. The tips of his fingers tickled the back of her neck. It caused Hermione to get goosebumps. She leaned back into his touch and warred with herself one last time.
“Fred, this is madness,” she whispered. They could hardly be seen in the corner booth, save for the soft light that came from a fireplace situated a few tables over. “What if they find out?” They being Harry, Ron, Ginny, George – really anyone. Fred leaned in a little closer, so close that the tip of his nose brushed hers.
“What if, indeed,” he murmured. The corners of his lips turned up into a little grin. “Kiss me.” His hand, still on the side of her throat, applied a gentle pressure, bringing her head closer to his by a fraction. His thumb ran along her lower lip once, twice, a passing brush.
Hermione couldn’t hold out any longer. Her eyes closed. She would have to make a choice.
“Granger, I’m not asking you again – ” Fred was a little desperate, a little annoyed now and maybe a little in love with this witch that toyed with his mind. But Hermione stopped him from saying anything further as she pressed her lips to his. She had made her choice. If he was madness, she wanted madness.
To her surprise, Fred’s right hand left her throat and cupped her left cheek as they deepened the kiss. His left hand returned to her waist and traced circles there with his fingers. The pressure of his lips on hers, the way they moved together wasn’t a perfect storybook kiss but it was close as Hermione had ever pictured it being. She pressed her lips a little more firmly into his and she felt him open his mouth slightly. She had kissed a few boys before back home before but as she had said to Fred a few weeks earlier, she had never snogged anyone. Now here she was, putting her hands in Fred’s hair and tugging him closer. She opened her mouth a little and moaned into his. And that was when Fred Weasley lost his composure.
He growled and his hand on her waist moved to the small of her back pulling her to close that she was practically on his lap. She moved her left knee to cross over his right to be more comfortable and it brought them even closer together. Am I really making out with Fred in the pub right now? Hermione questioned of herself. That same voice instantly shot back Oh, who cares?!
Fred’s hand was back around her throat again and he squeezed lightly, testing her reaction. Her mouth opened against his and she made a sound she had never recognized before, a little moan that right in the back of her throat. Fred squeezed her throat a little tighter and then swept his tongue along her lower lip. He was about to delve into her when –
“Oi, you two!” It was Madam Rosmerta walking over to them from the other side of the pub, looking annoyed. “Not the time or the place, get back up the castle now. I’ll have none of that in my pub, I’m sure you have plenty of classrooms in that old place to sort yourselves out. Now shoo!”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Fred growled against Hermione’s lips before breaking apart. The two dressed into their warm outer things quickly and went out the front door of the Three Broomsticks laughing, almost at a run, hand in hand.
When they returned to the castle, it was through the secret underground tunnel from Honeydukes to Hogwarts, the one marked by the One-Eyed Witch Statue. The moment they were past the statue, Fred pulled her in to the nearest classroom and locked the door. He cast a Silencing charm on the heavy wood and then lifted Hermione up to wrap her legs around his waist. He then pressed her up against the door and between the two of them, they rid each other of their coats, jackets and warm things. The bag of salted chocolate caramels fell out of Hermione’s coat with a soft thud but the two didn’t even notice.
When her scarf was removed, Fred’s lips instantly found her neck and he sucked hard on her skin. Hermione moaned aloud and gripped his shoulders through his long-sleeved green shirt. She decided that she liked him in green and with this shirt a little on the tighter side, she could clearly see the defined muscles he bore from his rigorous Quidditch training. Since his weight pinned her up against the door, her hands were free to do what they pleased and Hermione chose to grab the hair at the nape of Fred’s neck and pull lightly. He growled against her neck.
“Oh, steady on,Granger.” His voice was a little husky now, a little deeper and Hermione felt herself smirk. Who knew that she was able to make someone come undone like this?
She pulled herself back from Fred and looked at him through half-closed eyes.
Fred was breathless. He looked like he didn’t know how to process what had just happened in the last hour or so. After what felt like forever, he rested his forehead against hers and spoke through panted breaths. “Fuck me,” he said with a small laugh. “Hermione Granger knows how to snog.”
Hermione laughed and licked her lips. “Was this worth getting the detentions for, Fred?” she asked. His answer was to kiss her again and run his hands along her sides, his lips trailing from her lips over to her neck once more. He nibbled down her collarbone and sucked along the sensitive spot. Hermione keened. Fred smirked against her skin.
“I would suffer through detentions with Snape for the rest of my life if it meant I got to do this,” he promised her. “Now stop distracting me, Granger, I’m trying to blow your mind, here.”
They didn’t reach the Gryffindor common room until half past eleven. Breathless and dizzy with excitement, Hermione kissed Fred once at the foot of the stairs before going up to her dormitory. She was careful not to wake the other girls as she changed into her pajamas and closed her curtains around her bed to hide herself from view. Then, in the light cast from her wand and with textbooks strewn across her bedding, Hermione researched “Love Bites and How to Hide Them” for the next two hours. She fell asleep with a textbook on her chest and her wand in her hand, dreaming once again of the redheaded wizard who had snuck upon her heart unexpectedly with a sweetness and a spice she hadn’t expected.
Author’s Edit: If you’ve made it this far, thank you so very much! Please remember to leave Kudos and possibly a review telling me what you’d enjoy reading next in this Fred x Hermione story! And yes, more spice is coming!