Chapter Text
Hermione stood outside her apartment building, arms crossed, hip jutted, tapping her toe. She'd long since given up on feeling her feet for the rest of the night, her legs were freezing, and her gold sequin dress let every last chilly breeze pass across her skin.
Why in the name of anything at all had she agreed to a blind date?
She heard a rumble in the distance.
She was beginning to entertain the idea of giving up, going inside, and snuggling up with her cat, Crookshanks, for a cozy night in.
The rumble grew closer.
Hermione opened her clutch and checked her phone for the time. He was 10 minutes late, which was 15 by her standards.
"Well, I'm done,” she remarked to exactly nobody.
She climbed the steps to the building door, reached out for the door handle, and heard a deafening engine pull up and stop right behind her.
"Wait!"
Hermione froze, but didn't turn around. She could still duck inside. She didn't owe him anything. The night was young. There was so much terrible television to watch. So many fuzzy pairs of socks to choose from. And the sweatpants, oh the sweatpants.
He cut the engine.
“Please wait Hermione, I'm so sorry, I know I'm late. Give me this one strike and I'll make sure you have a fantastic night.”
She still didn't turn around. Baggy t shirts, taking off this stupid strapless bra, finishing off the last of the Zinfandel and opening another Zinfandel. She sighed, still facing the door.
“Two strikes.”
“Pardon?”
“You get a second strike for the motorcycle.”
“Well that's hardly fair. Can't be expected to lumber around the city in a camper van now can I?”
She smirked against her will. She whipped around to glare at him but found herself completely incapable. His tall figure stood at the bottom of the stone steps, wearing a bright pink helmet with beer stickers plastered to it, his cheeks squished absurdly forward. He held up a hand in argument.
“Now before you go laughing, this is my sister Ginny's helmet. I couldn't find mine, and I was, well I was running late.”
Hermione smiled wider.
“Oh, I wouldn't make fun of you. You look really tough. From the neck down.”
“Ha! She can sass. Strike me dead, I'm in love." He took off the ridiculous helmet and bounded up the stairs in two's. Hermione glanced over his messy crop of red hair and handsome features. He held out his hand. “I'm Fred, which you already knew. I'm late, which you also already knew. What you don't know is literally anything else.”
“I know you have a sister named Ginny and a friend named Lee who's friend's with my friend, Angelina. Actually I think he has a thing for her, maybe we should set them up.”
“Hm, that's a negative, I'm afraid my brother George is moving in for the kill with Angelina.”
“I hope, to the stars above, that you are speaking figuratively.”
“Ah, if only.”
“Shame.”
Hermione smiled, but wasn't letting go of the door. Fred smiled back, and then took on a more serious tone.
“Listen, I need to tell you something very important.”
“Ok, I'm listening.” She let go of the door and crossed her arms, mostly trying to hide how cold she was getting. Fred took her by the shoulders and looked right into her eyes.
“You are breathtaking. Stunning. The most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. Hands down. I need you to know that, right now. Do you understand?”
Hermione felt her face turning so many hues of pink and red. “Uh, ok. Thank you.”
“Right,” he pointed at her torso, “that dress will be absolute shite on this thing so let's scurry upstairs and get you changed.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said your dress is no good for a motorcycle and it makes me want to go to bed with you so let's go up to your flat and- oh my god,” comprehension dawned across his face, “I sound like an absolute creep.”
“Yes, quite.”
“May I back pedal?”
“Please do.”
“Hermione. I would like to take you on a date. But you are already cold, look, you’re shivering. Here.”
He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He continued,
“Let's go up to your flat, I'll hide my face behind a frilly throw pillow, and you can get changed into something you will actually enjoy wearing tonight.”
She thought a moment, and then nodded.
“Yeah, ok. But I do not have frilly throw pillows.”
“Yes you do.”
He smiled as he opened the door for her and they headed towards the stairs. Fred scrunched up his face.
“What's that smell?”
“Yep.”
“Definitely food related.”
“Yep.”
“And possibly an unintentionally dead animal?”
“Yep.”
They reached the landing and walked down the hall.
“Possibly an unintentionally dead person?”
“Possibly.”
“Or an intentionally dead person.”
“Be quiet!” Hermione gave him a playful smack on the arm with her clutch. They reached her flat and went inside, shutting the door behind them. She stopped and turned to face him. She pointed at him and said,
“I have mace, so don't try anything.”
He held up his hands. “Agreed.”
Fred appraised the living room. He made his way over to her numerous books, falling out of the overstuffed shelves. “Don't like reading much do you?”
“Har har, very funny.” Hermione walked to the bedroom. “You stay out here.”
“Right, frilly throw pillow, looking for, a frilly, throw Helloooo…”
Hermione stopped in her tracks. Oh god, had she left her bra on the back of the couch again? What was he looking at?
A large meowing puff came in through the bedroom door at eye level followed by Fred's body.
“I believe this counts as a frilly throw pillow.”
“I can assure you there's nothing frilly about Crookshanks.”
“If you say so.” He backed out of the room still holding Crookshanks over his eyes.
Hermione took off Fred's jacket and threw it over the chair in the corner. She kicked off her heels, pain and suffering instantly alleviating from her toes. As she shimmied out of her dress and other constraints, Hermione asked loudly,
“Where are we going anyway? I mean, how should I dress?”
“Whatever makes you comfortable, love.”
Hermione grinned mischievously. “Ok.”
A few moments later, Hermione sauntered out into the living room in green button up flannel pajamas and pale blue bunny slippers. She walked over to Fred who was somehow still managing to hold Crookshanks in front of his face.
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
He lowered Crookshanks down to the floor and looked up. He bunched up his lips in thought, stroking a non existent beard.
“Delivery it is!”
“What, no, I was just playing. I'll go change.”
“No, don't! I like it!”
“You can't be serious.”
“Why not? There's so much pressure on first dates. Why not have a night in? You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. You have a cat with a weird name, I'll order out, uh, what would you like, pizza? Chinese?”
“Chinese of course. Really? Didn't you have something planned? Don't you have a reservation somewhere?”
“Well, yes, but nothing I can't cancel with a quick phone call. Please, come sit next to me on this really low couch. Do you see how high my knees are?!”
Hermione laughed, but sat down cautiously. “And, just to be clear, no funny stuff tonight.”
“No funny stuff. Sleeping together tonight is completely off the table. One hundred percent. I promise.”
“Alright.” Hermione stood and walked over to the fridge. She scanned around the door. “Ah, here we are. Menu for Wok the Wok.”
It was sometime between the food arriving and clearing away the empty containers that Hermione finally began to relax. Their conversation was easy, it came naturally. Even the awkward pauses didn't feel all that awkward.
“Ok, I picked food, you pick a movie. They're on that shelf over there,” said Hermione.
Fred got up and walked over to the shelf. Hermione stared unashamedly. He looked back to say something and stopped short.
“Are you checking me out?”
“I wouldn't dream of it!”
“So I'm hideous?”
“No, that's not-”
“Ah, so you think I'm delectable, you WERE checking me out.”
“You're impossible.”
“On purpose.”
Fred picked a movie off the shelf, sat down, and handed it to Hermione. She got up, turned everything on and loaded the disk. She was bent over the dvd player when realization struck her over the head.
“You're checking ME out! You did that on purpose!”
Fred laughed and sank into the couch. “It's not my fault you fell for it,” he said, still laughing. He had his arms stretched out on the back of couch. Hermione sank down next to him and leaned in to his side. He pulled her closer with one arm and picked up her hand with the other. She looked up into his face and met his eyes. Stunning eyes. She smiled, and he gave her a very big smile.
“Hello then.”
The movie started, but Hermione didn’t notice. They were stuck. She couldn't look away. He leaned in. She closed her eyes. He let go of her hand and she anticipated it on her cheek. She felt his arm drape over her, but then he backed away. Hermione opened her eyes, only to be met with fabric too close to her face to make sense of it. She backed away.
“Didn't I say you'd have frilly throw pillows?”
Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled.
Fred tossed it aside, turned back towards her and pulled her into a kiss. They broke apart slowly. He leaned in and kissed her again. He inhaled deeply, and Hermione felt her stomach flutter. They parted, but he nudged her cheek with his nose. Throwing caution to the wind, Hermione threw her outside leg over his lap, straddled him, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in for another long kiss. He wrapped his arms around her. His hands drifted until they rested on her hips, but he pushed her away and they broke apart.
“Hermione. I'm really interested in you. You're exactly what I'm looking for in a girl, smart, witty, incredibly sexy. But I promised. There will be plenty of time.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, about all of it.” She sank back down onto the couch.
“Every word. If there's a donut shop nearby, you may never get rid of me.”
“Can I get rid of your sister's ugly bike helmet?”
“The minute I find mine.”
He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss, then pulled her back into a snuggle.
---
The automatic coffee maker bubbled to life, waking the two of them. Light poured in through the open curtain. Somehow, the two of them had wound up lying next to each other on the couch. Hermione wagered the wine had something to do with that. She squinted at him through her sleepy stupor and grimaced apologetically.
“It's on a timer.” she muttered.
“You should be ashamed.”
“I am.”
The coffee maker piddled away. Hermione asked,
“Did we finish the movie?”
“No, I turned it off when I heard you snoring.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. Faint little purring at first, thought it was Mr. Crookshanks over there. But you woke me up 3 times.”
“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.” Hermione covered her face and rubbed her eyes, only remembering after the fact that she was still wearing make up.
“It's a good look.”
“Shut up.” She slumped against his chest.
The coffee maker finished with a loud and lasting gurgle. Hermione peeled herself away from Fred, who then threw his arms over his face. “Turn the sun down for me, will you, love?”
“I'm going to go get human again.”
Hermione took a mug of coffee into the bathroom, drinking large sips between washing her face, removing a dozen bobby pins from her hair, putting said hair up into a bun, and the morning usual. She didn't take long, but told herself if Fred left while she was in the bathroom, it was going to have to be ok. However, when she left the bathroom, she discovered he hadn't moved at all. She went to the kitchen to get more coffee, and pour a mug for him.
“Cream, sugar?”
“I'd prefer it if you called me hot cakes.”
“Hot cakes, what do you want in your coffee?”
“Cream and sugar, please.”
She brought the mugs over to the couch. Fred had his arms over his face until Hermione was right next to him. Then, without opening his eyes, he threw his arms out wide. “You took all the warm. Please can I have it back?”
Hermione set down the mugs. “Well, budge up.”
“I call little spoon.”
“Oh fine.” Hermione crawled over him and hunkered down between Fred and the backrest. “There's absolutely nothing little about you-”
Fred laughed so loud, Crookshanks bolted into the bedroom. Hermione used the back of the couch for leverage and pushed him onto the floor.
“Drink your coffee.”
Fred sat up, still chuckling. “Thanks, love.” He took a sip. “Hermione?”
“Hm?”
“On a technicality, I broke my promise, but I hope you can still trust me.”
“What?”
“I said that sleeping together last night was off the table, I promised. Technically, I broke that promise. But I really am a man of my word.”
“Nope, that's strike three. Let’s get your coat.”
Hermione stood, grinning to herself as she walked away into the bedroom.
“No, wait, Hermione, please!” He chased after her, but was stunned when she pulled him into the bedroom and shut the door.
The door opened, a very disgruntled Crookshanks was shunted out, and once again the door shut.