Two Friends in a Broom Cupboard
On Boxing Day, the Weasleys with the addition of Harry had faced off against each other for a friendly game of Quidditch. As they didn’t have enough Weasleys for full teams, they had played modified positions. Ron and Mr. Weasley had taken on the role of Keeper for each team. Fred and George were Chasers for Mr. Weasley’s team while Ginny and Harry were Chasers for the other. They didn’t play with Seekers or Beaters, to keep it fair and the rules were that they played until one of the teams reached 50 points. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had sat outside in the snow on a wooden bench, covered in blankets, cheering on both teams.
To Mr. Weasley’s credit, he was a great Keeper and as being a Chaser wasn’t Harry’s strong suit, they were pretty evenly matched. Ginny and Harry could go toe-to-toe with Fred and George but when it came to protecting the three hoops, Hermione could tell that Ginny was growing frustrated at not being able to get the Quaffle past her father. Fred managed to slip one past Ron, however, and the younger complained about getting snow in his eyes. Hermione had laughed from down below.
“That’s alright, Ron!” Hermione had shouted. “Come wind or rain, you’ve got to keep trying.”
“Yes, Ron, do be fair!” Fred crowed from his seat on his broom. “Don’t have a pout just because I got one past you.”
Ron puffed up his chest. “Right, come on, then!” he goaded his older brother. “Try it again, Fred! I’ll be ready.”
The game was actually pretty fierce. Fred’s team was up by 30 points and then suddenly, Mr. Weasley started getting tired. Harry and Ginny were able to get 40 points in about twenty minutes. They were down to the last set. If Harry or Ginny were able to get the Quaffle in again, Ron’s team won. If Fred or George succeeded with two more, they would be the victors.
Fred and George managed to get in one more shot on Ron. Now they were a tie game. Hermione crowed from the ground below, her hands cupped around her mouth.
“Come on, Freddie!” she screamed with a laugh. “You can do it!”
Mrs. Weasley’s eyes glinted and she leaned closer to Hermione. “Did I just hear you call him Freddie?” she asked with a knowing smile. The young Gryffindor blushed and looked down at the ground.
“Only, George and the others call him that,” she replied, trying to sound demure. Mrs. Weasley chuckled.
“My dear,” she replied. “George and the others are all his siblings. You are not. Putting that aside, I’m happy you’ve struck up a friendship with Fred and George as well,” the matriarch continued. “It makes my heart happy.”
Hermione grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.”
The two looked back upward just as Harry and Ginny made their last goal on Mr. Weasley! Ron’s team had won! All six of the players flew down to ground and gathered in a huddle of congratulations and hugs and pats on the back. Hermione got up from her chair and as Ron, Harry and Ginny walked towards Mrs. Weasley, she stepped through the snow towards Fred, George and Mr. Weasley. She hugged all three, although Fred held her in their embrace a little longer. When Mr. Weasley and George had walked off, Fred had seen the opportunity to smile and steal a kiss across her forehead. Hermione had stepped back and smiled, looking up at him.
“Distance, Fred Weasley,” Hermione had chided. “We wouldn’t want to think that you’re too eager, would we?”
Fred smirked. “Distance be damned, Granger,” he had replied in a tone that only she could hear. “You’re driving me mental.”
He had been on his best behaviour after the match and hadn’t made another move towards her for the rest of the week.
The night that the students were due back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was New Year’s Eve. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley Apparated their children, along with Harry and Hermione, back to King’s Cross Station and saw them safely to boarding the Hogwarts Express. Instead of separating from the younger Gryffindors to find Lee, Angelina, Katie or Alicia, Fred and George decided to squeeze in with them all in one compartment. Harry, Ron and George shared one bench seat while Hermione, Ginny and Fred shared the other, Ginny being in the middle. The twins talked excitedly with Harry and Ron of how they would use George’s snaps, gifted by Hermione for Christmas, in their first pranks back. Ginny wore her perfume and talked to Hermione about how she had spoken with Mrs. Weasley about when she could start going on dates and they had agreed that she could start upon return from Christmas break if she wanted. The trip went by quickly and soon enough, all of the Hogwarts students had arrived at the school, gone to their dormitories, changed back into school robes and came back down to the Great Hall for a New Year’s feast.
Ginny and Hermione chose to sit next to each other on the left side of the table, across from Harry and Ron. Fred sat to the right of Hermione with George sitting opposite him.
Professor Dumbledore started to welcome them back to school when Fred’s voice piqued Hermione’s interest. His right hand had come up to the collar of his dress shirt and he pulled at it with a few fingers.
“I hate being back in uniform,” Fred grumbled so that only those nearest could hear him. “The vests are itchy and my collars are always too tight.” George sniggered at his twin’s distress.
Hermione looked over her right shoulder and examined the way Fred had put himself together.
“Your tie is too tight, that’s your problem,” she whispered. “You have to undo the knot a little.” She turned her head back around to face the front of the Great Hall. Fred poked her back with a finger. Hermione did nothing. He poked her again. Hermione sucked in a breath and slowly turned her head again.
“What?” she hissed in a whisper.
“Can you help?” Fred asked, his eyebrows raised in a pleading look. “Please, I feel like I’m choking.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “No, Fred,” she whispered back. “You are a sixteen-year-old boy who has been tying school ties since you were eleven. I am not fixing your tie for you. And not in the Great Hall, either.”
“Will you two stuff it?” whispered a voice from the next table over. It was Malfoy, looking quite annoyed. “No one wants to hear your little bickering argument. God, I was so happy to be away from you lot for a week.”
Hermione shot him daggers and turned away from the both of them to face the front once again. George continued to giggle. Whatever Fred’s plan had been to get Hermione to give in to touch him somehow had failed. Fred sighed and fixed his tie quickly himself. After a few seconds, Hermione turned back around.
“You see?” she said. “I knew you were perfectly capable.”
She smirked as Fred’s change in expression told her that he was internally screaming. This was fun.
After the Great Hall feast, all of the houses returned to their respective common rooms to prepare for a New Year’s Eve party. While the students had been at dinner, the house elves had prepped the common rooms with garlands in their house colours and prepared most of the party snacks. In the Gryffindor common room, that meant that maroon and gold lights were also wrapped around every single mantle, railing and banister. The snacks covered every table – popcorn, Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Canary Creams, chocolate chip cookies, lollies, honey buns – anything anyone could want. And as for the drinks, they had hot chocolate, Butterbeer, Pumpkin Juice and Gillywater, as well as regular carbonated drinks in glass carafes. A gramophone was on the coffee table in front of the scarlet couch near the fireplace. It was charmed to play music of the times, songs that the young witches and wizards could dance and laugh to. The students gasped in awe as they travelled up the stairs to their dormitories, eager to get changed and come back down to get the festivities started.
When Hermione reached the fourth-year girl’s dormitory, Lavender and Parvati were right behind her.
“Hermione, how was your week away?” they squealed as they wrapped their arms around her in a hug. “Tell us everything!”
“There’s nothing to say,” Hermione said with a laugh. “I had a fun time with the Weasleys and Harry. They played Quidditch against each other on Boxing Day and Harry and Ginny and Ron actually won against Fred, George and Mr. Weasley. It was really fun! Oh and Mrs. Weasley also makes the best gingerbread cookies.”
Lavender went over to her closet and started picking through her clothes. “Do I wear a dress?” she asked the girls. “Or perhaps a nice top with trousers?”
Hermione smiled softly. “Lavender, I’m sure whatever you wear, you’ll look great.” Parvati left Hermione’s side and walked over to the middle bed in the room, her bed. She reached into her suitcase on top of her bed and pulled out an intricately gold-beaded bodysuit.
“I could wear this with dark jeans,” she mused to herself. “I think it’ll look quite alright.”
Hermione turned away from the other girls and started to look through her outfits. A little knock on their door of the dormitory made all three Gryffindors jump. Hermione looked to Lavender and Parvati, who both shrugged. The brunette cautiously walked over the dormitory floor and opened the heavy wooden door. Ginny stood there, still in her uniform.
“Hello, you,” Hermione greeted with a smile. “Are you coming to get changed in here? You can, you know.” She stepped back to let Ginny in but the younger witch shook her head.
“No, I’ve come to get you,” the redhead said. “Fred sent me up, he said that you need to go and meet him down by the dungeons.”
“The dungeons?” Hermione repeated, confused for a moment. Ginny nodded. Hermione leaned against the doorframe. “Gin, I’m sorry but you’re not making sense.”
“He said that Snape summoned him to talk about an essay that he did and that since you tutored him through it, Snape wants to talk to you, too,” Ginny added. That’s when it clued in for Hermione. Snape – Angelina’s potion – the Yule Ball. Her stomach flipped. She tugged at the collar of her dress shirt.
“I’ll head down right now,” she said, looking back to Parvati and Lavender. “Don’t dance too much without me!”
“No promises!” Lavender replied with a small laugh. “Go help Weasley! Maybe we’ll go through your outfits and pick something for you wear while you’re gone.”
Hermione waved to both Gryffindors and then closed the door to the dormitory behind her. She followed Ginny down the stairs as far as the third-year dormitory where the redhead took her leave. Then she travelled alone. Heading through the common room and past some students that were already getting the party started, she climbed through the portrait hole and set off on her way down to the dungeons. It took her a few minutes to reach the depths of Hogwarts castle but eventually, she made it down the Potions corridor and stopped in front of Professor Snape’s classroom. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Snape’s voice drawled coolly from inside. Hermione entered and saw that Professor Snape sat on his side of his desk, while Fred sat across from him in a student’s chair. “Miss Granger,” he greeted. Hermione gave him a small nod.
“Did you have a Happy Christmas, Professor?” she asked as she sat down in the empty chair to the left of Fred. Snape fixed her with a glare.
“Oh, yes, Miss Granger, I had the happiest Christmas one could have spending it alone by oneself,” Snape replied, his tone curt. “Now, to the matter at hand. As you must remember, you were sick at the Yule Ball last week, which made me question the integrity of the punch. I did not find alcohol. Mr. Weasley was caught fraternizing with another student – again, no alcohol in his system. However, I’ll admit that I had not thought to check about potions until Mr. Weasley here brought me his glass and told me that he feared he had been poisoned or drugged somehow.”
Hermione took a chance to look over at Fred. His expression was eager and his eyes fixated on everything Snape was doing like it was all part of a prize. She looked back at their professor.
“Yes, Professor, Mr. Weasley also voiced those concerns to me,” Hermione allowed. “You see, I went to his home for the holidays and he told me.”
Snape nodded once. “I do see, Miss Granger. As the situation stands, I first tested for Polyjuice Potion and that didn’t seem to be it. Next, I tested for various different levels of powders, herbs and the like. Again, nothing. Lastly, when I started going through other potions and elixirs, I came to the answer quite quickly. I thought you write to you, Mr. Weasley, but I didn’t think it appropriate to spoil your holiday festivities.”
Fred leaned forward in his seat. “What is it, Professor?”
Snape’s lips curled in an annoyed sneer. He didn’t like being rushed.
“You were right in that it was based with a Love Potion, Mr. Weasley. But Miss Johnson also mixed a Liquid Luck Potion in with it. I have never done so, personally, but it would make sense that if she wanted you to be … fraternizing … with her, the Liquid Luck could react with the potion and make you have visions of the person you’d rather be having … relations with. You think you’re, as the Muggles say, ‘getting lucky’ with the individual of your choice?”
Colour drained from Hermione’s face and she felt like she wanted to retch. Of course, she was happy to know the truth. But never had she wanted to hear the words ‘getting lucky’ from Professor Snape’s mouth. The greasy-haired professor noticed her reaction and rolled his eyes.
“Come, come now, Miss Granger, do compose yourself. I won’t have a repeat of last week happen all over my classroom floors.”
Hermione glared at their professor. She opened her mouth to say something but Fred’s voice cut her off.
“So, Professor, with what I told you – what I experienced – are you 100% certain that what happened to me was the potion’s fault?” The sixth-year chanced a look at Hermione. Her mouth had dropped open.
“How much did you tell him, exactly?” she exclaimed. “He seems to know a lot of details.”
Snape’s eyes looked between them once more. “Miss Granger, he had to divulge all of his symptoms so that I could run tests to the fullest of my capabilities and as accurately as possible.” He brought his left hand up to his left temple and rubbed softly. With his right hand, he picked up Fred’s abandoned glass of punch, now empty, and looked into it before placing it back down onto his desk.
“Mr. Weasley, I believe that Miss Johnson played a cruel trick on you,” he replied. “And I would confidently say that you are absolved from any blame. Now – ”
Snape put his hands on his desk and pushed upwards to help himself rise from his chair. Hermione and Fred stood up as he did.
“I assure you, I have better things to do with my time than to be analyzing glasses of punch and meddling in the affairs of teenage witches and wizards. However…”
He paused and raised a finger, pointing between the two of them.
“Now that I know what this is, I can only assume that it was you two together in December – the ones I almost caught. The ones with the chocolates.”
Hermione and Fred said nothing and continued to look at their professor. They didn’t want to give anything away. Snape chuckled, a sound that was low and deep in his chest. Almost everything he did sounded cruel and this was no exception.
“Quiet, I see. No matter. My warning shall be clear. Should I ever catch you after hours again, I can assure you, Mr. Weasley, that you will never graduate from this school and be stuck here for the rest of your days, like the likes of Hagrid or perhaps Mr. Filch. I’m sure that Peeves wouldn’t mind you cleaning up his messes every once in a while. That poltergeist makes a disgusting mess with each prank.”
Hermione squeaked when the professor looked down his hooked nose in her direction with his beady eyes.
“And Miss Granger, if I ever catch you after hours with this or any other student – you will automatically get a P for Poor in my class. Do you understand?”
Hermione was sure her heart almost shattered. “Yes, Professor,” she promised. “I won’t let it happen.”
“See that you don’t,” Snape replied. “Now go on and head to the celebrations. You’ve wasted enough of my time for one evening.”
Hermione looked to Fred. They didn’t have to be told twice. They bid their goodnights and headed for the door of Snape’s dungeon-turned-classroom. Their quick steps echoed off the cold stone floor and the moment they were on the other side and back in the corridor, Fred stopped Hermione from walking any further by grabbing her left wrist gently. When she turned to face him, he was grinning from ear to ear.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked, a little breathless. He could hardly contain his excitement. She couldn’t keep a straight face and found that a smile of her own formed on her lips. She laughed softly.
“What, Fred?” she asked.
“I’m innocent,” Fred replied in a breath. His face relaxed. “Blimey, ’Mione, we actually have an answer for what happened. I mean, I knew we would but –”
Hermione pulled her wrist from his grasp gently. “And I’m happy that we do. Now let’s get on.” She started off down the corridor. Fred followed behind, confused.
“I’m sorry, are you not getting it?” Fred asked. He had longer legs than her and still found it difficult to match her strides. She was fast when she was determined. “Hermione, we can be together!”
At his words, Hermione laughed lightly and shook her head.
“Fred, I told you that I wanted to keep some distance until I knew the truth. Now that I know the truth, it’s still going to take some time to process what happened and for me to feel comfortable. I don’t know if I want to be in a relationship with you right now.”
Fred’s face went slack and the shock of her words stopped him dead in his tracks. For a moment, he stood in the middle of the corridor, huffing and puffing as result of trying to keep up with her speed. He held out his arms into the sky.
“Are you mental?!” he exclaimed with an incredulous laugh of his own. “I have told you that I’ve wanted you, that I want only you and you’re not sure if you want to go out with me? You have tortured me for a week, Hermione.”
Hermione turned to look at Fred, completely amused.
“Yes, I do know how long a week is, Fred. I’m happy you do, too,” she chided. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened to the ‘I’ll wait months if it takes you to love me’ speech that you gave me at the Burrow?”
Fred looked put out.
“Well,” he began. “That was true when I said it but I didn’t think you’d actually make me stick to it! Months are a very long time!” He almost whined. “And I miss you.” He stopped pouting in the middle of the corridor and jogged to meet her where she stood. He held out his left hand for her to take. “If you’re really not willing, I will ultimately go along with it. But can we, at least, be friends that hold hands?”
Hermione sighed. “Fred Weasley, you are absolutely relentless,” she replied as she slipped her right hand into his. “You’re still not forgiven, you know.”
Fred brought her right hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I know,” he said. The words sounded like a promise.
Hermione cleared her throat and the two walked hand-in-hand along the corridor, up the Grand Staircase and along the corridor that headed towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. They hadn’t said anything for several minutes until Fred spoke up.
“Can we be friends that kiss?” he asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“No,” she replied. In response, Fred squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb along the back of hers. Bugger.
“Can we be friends that hug?” he asked. He was smirking again. Hermione smiled softly and shook her head.
“Not really. Although I suppose it depends on the kind of hug you want to give me. I reckon a side hug is alright.”
“A side hug?” Fred repeated. His nose wrinkled. “What am I, your dear old Nan?” Hermione giggled.
“It’s a perfectly respectable form of greeting,” Hermione insisted, unable to contain her grin. “A side hug is all that you’re getting.” Fred made a sound of protest but returned to smirking a few minutes later.
“Can we be friends that do this?” Fred asked. Before Hermione had a chance to ask what he meant, Fred opened up the nearest door and pulled her inside. It was a large broom cupboard, as far as broom cupboards went, about three feet wide by six or seven feet deep. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Hermione saw that this cupboard was seemingly meant to store the cleaning supplies for the house elves. There were brooms, dusters, buckets, mops. She looked to Fred.
“Are you asking me if we are friends that hide in broom cupboards?” she teased, still smiling. They were still holding hands. She could barely see Fred in the dark. “This is not keeping your distance, Fred Weasley.”
“I’m tired of keeping my distance from you, Hermione.”
The younger witch dropped his hand and placed both her arms at her sides. Her eyes sought him in the blackness around them. On one hand, this playfulness with Fred was natural and she enjoyed it. On the other hand, she felt the walls that she had put up around her heart start to break. Damn. It was difficult to have resolve around him.
“Should I be scared to be in here with you alone?” she asked as she leaned back against the stone wall of the cupboard. Fred chuckled in the dark.
“You make me sound like I’m the villain of a romance novel, come to steal the fair maiden away,” he replied, amused. “And I’m not. I’m only here as your friend, purely innocent with my intentions – ”
“Friends with innocent intentions don’t shut their friends up in broom cupboards,” Hermione teased. She thought she could see Fred smirk in the dark.
“Well,” he allowed, humour evident in his voice, “ – If you’re worried about being alone in here with me, I could always ask Lee to join us. He’s had a thing forever for brunettes. Especially smart ones.”
Hermione gasped and smacked Fred’s arm. “Fred Weasley, we are not bringing in Lee!”
Fred’s hands felt for her in the dark and found her waist. He held her lightly. Although his words were confident, his actions were soft and hesitant. He didn’t want to push her too far. He had moved to stand closer to her and Hermione could make out the contours of his face and see the smattering of his freckles. When he spoke again, his tone was serious.
“Hermione Granger, I’ve already told you that I’m in love with you. And now we know the truth.” He sighed and she could feel his breath felt upon her lips. “Ultimately, I understand that you want distance. I do. And if you truly want to leave this cupboard and never have anything to do with me, I will let you go the moment you say it. But you need to tell me what you want.”
His nose brushed against hers, a sweet butterfly kiss. Hermione sighed.
“I can’t,” she said, her voice weak. “I can’t make a decision now, I have to think it through first.”
Fred laughed softly. “You overthink everything,” he told her. “Forget what your brain says and listen to what your heart says… What your gut says. They’re usually not wrong.”
Hermione ached to close the distance between them. She wanted his lips on hers, she wanted his hands in her hair. She squirmed. His gentle touch upon her waist held. She sucked in a breath and looked up into Fred’s eyes. What did her heart say?
Ignoring his touch on her waist, Hermione focused on her inner-most thoughts. Fred didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t try to persuade her – he held still, respecting her time. After a time that could only be described as forever (although it was really about five minutes of silence), Hermione was ready to speak again. She sought Fred’s eyes with her own.
“After considering what we know, my heart is telling me that I can forgive you. Being tricked by a potion wasn’t your fault. As for my gut, it’s telling me to be careful but to try,” she finally answered. “I know if I don’t try, I might regret it. And I don’t want to feel like that.”
Fred smiled softly at her words. “I’m scared to try, too,” he assured her. “You’d be my first girlfriend. I don’t reckon I’ll know what to do half the time. But I want to try – for you.”
He tilted his head down and rested his forehead against hers.
“If you’ll do me the honour, I would like to escort you from this cupboard back into our common room. Then, I would like us to get dressed. After that, I want us to dance and eat and drink and party until it’s midnight. And when it’s midnight, I would love to be your New Year’s kiss.”
When she didn’t answer, Fred laughed softly once more.
“On the other hand, if this is all too much pressure, we can just be two friends in a broom cupboard. We can walk out of this little cubby like nothing happened and just keep being chums. It’s up to you.”
Hermione’s heart fluttered. “And you say I drive you mental,” she commented. She lifted her hands and placed them on Fred’s chest. The collar of his dress shirt tickled the tips of her fingers.
“I have some reservations,” she said. “One, I’m thinking about the logistics about us dating. And how that would work.”
“We would be brilliant,” he commented. “The loving prankster and future businessman and the smartest and bravest girl Hogwarts has ever seen. Sounds like a match made in heaven. I bring down your edge, you get me to clean up my act.” He almost sounded like he was gloating. “A perfect pair.”
“You sound so confident,” Hermione remarked.
“I am confident,” Fred replied. “I know what I want.”
Hermione went to her next point. “Two, you’ll have graduated by the end of next year. We’ll be long distance,” she reasoned.
“So that means that I’ll come visit you on your Hogsmeade visits every few weeks,” he replied. His lips brushed against hers. “Come on, Granger, you have to have better reasons than that.” When she didn’t say anything, Fred added the following. “We’re not going to break up because of long distance. You’re the only one I could ever want. I’m sorry that it took momentarily losing you for me to figure that out.”
Hermione’s head was swimming again. They were quiet for a few moments. She tried to search her head and heart for anything to push him away – anything that would stop her from getting hurt too badly. At long last, she spoke, breaking the silence.
“I can’t think of more reasons,” she admitted. Fred chuckled.
“Good, because you won’t find any,” he said.
Hermione placed her hand on the handle of the door to the broom cupboard. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the Weasley twin.
“One last thing, I suppose,” she added. “Can we talk to Angelina together? About what happened?”
She saw Fred nod in the dark. “Sure, if that’s what you want,” he replied. Hermione smiled.
“I think it would help us all get over it. I’m sure she feels guilty for the part she played.”
“You have a better heart than most, Hermione,” Fred commented. “I don’t know how you can forgive her.”
Hermione shook her head lightly. “I’ve not forgiven her. But to move on from it? That’s something I need to do for my sake, not hers.” She opened the cupboard door. “Alright, Fred, let’s try to go be the friends who sometimes hide in broom cupboards, dance together during New Year’s Eve and kiss at midnight.”
Fred’s smile was bright despite the darkness of the cupboard.
“Really?” he asked. “Do you mean it?”
Hermione closed the space between them to kiss his cheek. “Yes,” she agreed. “And for the record, I didn’t like keeping my distance from you either.”
Fred let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry all of this happened,” he said. “If I could go back and undo it, I would.”
Hermione shrugged. “I wish I could help you with that,” she replied. “But I don’t know how to go back in time.”
Letting that comment sit in the air between them, Hermione left the broom cupboard with Fred following close behind. They entered the common room and went upstairs, returning downstairs minutes later in new outfits. Fred had chosen a black long sleeve and jeans, Hermione, a simple black A-line dress. They talked, danced to the fast music (The Weird Sisters were on the most), ate the delicious food and played games with their friends, like cards and throwing or popping the snaps that George had received from Hermione. It was a night that felt normal and natural. And, besides the odd brush of his hand against the small of her back, an action usually made by accident anyway, no one could tell anything had changed between them. The whole thing was so subtle and so inconspicuous.
They had played their parts well.
At long last, the large clock on the common room mantle finally showed that it was a minute until midnight. Everyone hurried to get their last drinks of the evening and all Gryffindors, be they first-year or seventh, gathered around the common room near the fireplace. The clock started to chime.
Bong, bong, bong, bong –
Fred looked to Hermine. “Are you ready?” he mouthed.
Hermione blushed and looked down at her glass mug of Butterbeer. “Yes,” she mouthed back.
Bong, bong, bong, bong –
Fred looked over to George and couldn’t help but grin. His twin winked at the pair of them and raised his glass to them in a silent toast. This would be good for the both of them, he knew it.
Bong bong bong –
Fred subtly moved closer to Hermione and fully put his arm around her waist. A few nearest them in the crowd noticed and eyes widened but said nothing. Hermione set her Butterbeer down on the coffee table.
Bong!
It was midnight – and that meant –
Like something out of a romance novel, Hermione wrapped her arms around Fred’s neck and he slowly, passionately brought his lips down to hers for a kiss, dipping her a little. The crowd of Gryffindors, who had started to cheer to ring in the New Year, fell silent. When Fred and Hermione finally broke apart, they were both grinning like fools and Fred’s arm would not let go from around Hermione’s waist. Nobody said anything until -
“Are you serious?” It was Ron, looking dumbfounded from his place a few feet away, standing beside Harry on the other side of the couch. “You’re going to drop that big of a bomb on us and then pretend like you did nothing?”
“Cheer up, Ron, it’s a New Year!” Fred told his little brother. “Anything can happen.” With that, he turned his gaze back down to Hermione. The crowd started to go back to celebrating.
“I love you,” he murmured as he leaned in for another kiss.
“I love you,” Hermione replied. Her heart skipped a beat. It was the first time she had ever said it to anyone. In that moment, she didn’t care if it was puppy love – it was so strong, it made her feel like she was floating.
In the flickering light of the fireplace, the key that Fred had given her for Christmas sparkled on a chain around her neck. She wouldn’t always wear it but had decided that, for tonight, she had allowed herself to hope and had put it on, praying for the best to happen. And it had.