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Hermione threw her head back, giggling as George spun her exuberantly around the dance floor. The twinkling fairy lights hung around the orchard and other dancers around them blurred as he twirled her again, her eyes unable to focus on anything or anyone for long - whether that was from the speed of dance that George was leading her in or the three shots of firewhisky she had taken with Ginny in quick succession before the dancing began, she wasn’t sure.
For better or worse, the firewhisky had done as Ginny promised it would. For the first time in months, she wasn’t worried about work or feeling down that the only wizard that had ever truly caught her eye would likely never be interested in her. No, she was having fun.
“Switch!” George called, spinning her out and letting go of her hand. Her smile faltered for a moment, afraid of losing her balance thanks to the excessive amount of alcohol she had imbibed in, but found herself safely wrapped in another set of arms and overwhelmed by the scent of freshly mown grass, new parchment, spearmint toothpaste, and gunpowder only seconds later.
Fred.
“Oh, please don’t do that again,” she groaned, leaning her forehead against his chest and closing her eyes. She could feel his replying chuckle through his chest.
“No need to worry, Hermione,” Fred said as she lifted her head off his chest to glare lightly at him. “I’ve finally managed to get the most beautiful witch here to dance with me. I wouldn’t dare to let her go now.”
“Promises, promises...” Hermione muttered to herself.
“What was that, love?” Fred asked, a cheeky grin on his face as he pulled her close when the song changed and the music slowed. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
“Just that you’d better not let Pansy hear you say that,” she lied, the light blush that crossed her cheeks likely giving her away. Though she could also blame that on the way his hands now rested low on her waist.
"Good point, though I won’t take it back since it’s true,” he replied with a wink. “I've got to say...I don't think I would have ever bet on those two ending up together."
Hermione nodded and smiled as she watched Ron and Pansy swaying together on the dance floor over Fred’s shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the rest of their wedding reception happening around them. "Given their history, I can’t say I would have either. Seeing them now, though, especially like this...they make sense, I think."
“You think?” Fred asked, a clear challenge in his voice.
“I know. I mean, look at them.” She spun them slightly so that the couple in question was in Fred’s line of sight as well. “The way they look at each other, the way he’s holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world...they’re in love…”
“Well, considering they’re now bonded for life, I would hope so,” he replied with a chuckle.
She swatted at his chest lightly. “You know what I mean.”
“I suppose I do,” he said quietly, his blue eyes locking on hers. Her breath hitched under the intensity of his gaze and in that moment she found it near impossible not to have hope that he felt the same way. Hermione had convinced herself that there was no way he could possibly return her feelings. Why would someone like Fred - someone charming, funny, brilliant, and incredibly attractive - ever feel that way about her? She was uptight, worked far too much, and rarely had what anyone else would describe as fun.
But the way he was looking at her now - like she was the only person in the room; the only person that mattered - was enough to leave her breathless.
Between that look and the firewhisky still flowing through her veins, she found some of that legendary courage that Gryffindors were known for. She finally broke eye contact and leaned forward on her toes, allowing her to whisper in his ear.
“You can kiss me if you want.”
He was quiet for a moment and they stopped swaying to the music, though neither of them moved out of the other's arms. She immediately regretted saying something. It was reckless and stupid of her to think that he could possibly feel the same way…
“Please believe me when I say that there is nothing more I would like to do right now than kiss you, Hermione.” She felt his lips brush her cheek tenderly, and a shiver ran down her spine. “But, knowing that you’ve had quite a bit to drink, I don’t think that I should. I’m not sure that I could handle it if you regretted it in the morning when you have a clear head.”
“I’ve fancied you for a long time, Fred,” Hermione admitted quietly, his response encouraging her further than the firewhisky alone had. “I wouldn’t regret this. And besides, I’m not that drunk.”
“Ah, but you didn’t deny that you are drunk.” He gave her a fond smile and tucked a rogue curl behind her ear. “I won’t hold you to anything, Hermione, but if you still feel that way tomorrow when you’re sober...well, you know where to find me.”
Just before Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was to open the next morning, Hermione stepped through the Floo in the shop where she found Fred counting the till.
“Hermione,” Fred greeted, clearly surprised to see her. “What can I do for you?”
“You said I should find you if I still felt the same way sober...and well, I didn’t want to wait…”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Fred said, and the smile that he gave her made her stomach flutter and her heart pound in her chest. He rounded the counter and closed the distance between them quickly. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she said on a breath before finally brushing her lips against his.
It was worth the wait.