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It was raining outside, hard, putting something of a damper on Fred’s escape plans. That, and he’d forgotten to grab his wand when he’d beat his hasty exit. He didn’t have a jacket on, nor did he have a brolly. And he definitely couldn’t go back inside to get any of it–
“Fred?”
He almost turned to her voice on reflex, but caught himself — the thought of seeing the glint of a ring on her finger made his stomach turn.
Instead, he pushed himself off the wall of the Burrow, leaning forward and out from under the shelter of the roof. Several freezing cold, fat drops of rain splashed onto his forehead and the wind whipped at his red hair. The trees lining the front path shuddered under the streaming rain. Fred tried to calm himself, but it was a struggle to breathe. Thunder quaked around him and the trees seemed to cower.
“What are you doing?” Hermione asked. “Are you alright?”
The sky thundered again and the wall of the Burrow shuddered behind him like the house itself might give out at any moment. Fred felt rather than saw as Hermione shivered.
“Go back inside,” Fred said tightly, jamming his freezing hands into his pockets. “I’ll be back in a mo’. Got an errand to run.”
“In the middle of the night?” Hermione’s voice was disbelieving.
“Yes,” Fred snapped, his voice short.
He felt her recoil behind him at the sharpness in his voice and felt a pang of regret. He drew in a shaky breath, trying to school his tone. “Sorry,” he said shortly, still not looking at her.
He needed to get out of here, and fast. It was idiocy that he didn’t even have his wand— he’d set it down on the table to eat…Of course then Hermione and Ron had come in together, blushing and bright eyed and smiling and a little teary, and told everyone that they had an announcement to make…Fred had known for ages about the little red velvet box in Ron’s bag, so he had known instantly exactly what they were going to announce. He’d felt suddenly sick, blood pounding in his ears as he’d slid his chair back loudly and practically ran for the nearest exit.
“Fred, wait—“
Fred ignored her; he had to, really. He was on the verge of doing something insane. His head was swirling. He needed to run or cry or be sick, and quickly…or else he’d do something else.
He chose the first, breaking into a sprint. He didn’t have the energy to spare a thought for how odd his behavior must seem to Hermione as he ran headfirst into the stormy night.
There was a flash of lightning and an answering boom of thunder. In seconds he was soaked, his trainers squelching in the muddy puddles of the gravel path. The rain fell on him quick and cold and piercing, drops shattering into his skin like icy bullets.
He heard her call out behind him, but he didn’t look back as he ran, heedless, into the pouring night.
“Fred, stop!”
He didn’t, and she made him pay for it: There was a flash and bang and then a whipcord of light– that Fred belatedly recognized as a trip jinx– materialized around his ankles, pulling taut and sending him careening into the ground.
His knees scraped and palms slapped against the muddy gravel as he caught himself. The wild emotions swirling inside him coalesced and came out as anger.
“What the fuck, Hermione!” He raged, slapping his hands on the gravel again. “What the fuck!”
“What are you doing, you berk!?” Hermione shouted back over the roaring rain. “Running into the rain in a tee shirt with no wand like a child in a snit!?”
“What do you care?” Fred roared, turning, finally, to look at her.
She’d clearly been smarter than him and done an Impervious on herself because her clothes were mostly dry, though her hair was slightly wet and whipping wildly in the wind. She was holding two wands.
“Why wouldn’t I care?” Hermione asked, looking lost.
“Being a good sister-in-law already are you?” Fred jeered, chuckling humorlessly. He dusted his hands on the sides of his jeans as he got his feet under him, knees smarting. “Congratulations on that by the way.“
“What are you talking about?” Hermione demanded, her eyebrows knitting together. Her mussed hair was a soft, wet, fluffy halo around her face.
“How did Ronniekins pop the question anyhow?” Fred bit out acidly, standing up. “Did he toss the ring to you over dinner at the Leaky and ask you through an open mouthful of corned beef?” He asked scornfully. “Oh I know, did he call over to you from the loo while he was taking a shite, and say ‘Here, Hermione, can you wipe my arse and Oh, will you marry me?’”
Hermione’s eyes were cold. “Are you drunk?” she asked coolly.
Fred advanced on her. “Maybe,” he said boldly, closing the distance between them, so close that she was forced to look up at him.
She didn’t flinch, but wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Right,” she said shortly, looking around. “I shouldn’t have followed you out here. Here,” she pressed his wand into his hand. “Don’t get yourself killed,” she turned abruptly, making to leave.
“Wait.” Fred grabbed her left wrist as she turned to go, and then held her hand up, examining it. “Where’s the ring? Don’t tell me he couldn’t even be bothered to give it to you?”
“What ring?” Hermione demanded, turning around to face him again. She threw her arms up, left wrist still loosely encircled by his hand. “What are you talking about!?”
“The bloody engagement ring!” Fred shouted. “The one Ron’s been carrying around for months, for the engagement you were announcing tonight! What other bloody ring would I be talking about!?”
Hermione studied him for a long time. “You mean the ring Harry got for Ginny?” she said quietly.
“No— I, what?”
“Ron’s been carrying it for him,” Hermione explained slowly. “Harry’s planning to propose over Christmas.”
Fred’s brain stopped working. He stared at her dumbly. “Then you— Ron…”
“We’re not engaged,” Hermione clarified, her eyes narrowed. “In fact, we’ve broken up.”
Fred felt like his ears were ringing. “Come again?”
“I said, we’ve broken up,” Hermione snapped waspishly, crossing her arms around herself. “Not that it’s any of your business. Now, let me go. I’m going to go inside and leave you to your little hurricane in peace.”
“Why are you smiling?” Hermione demanded. Fred hadn’t even realized he had been, but he felt now that the corners of his mouth were pulled tight against his cheeks.
“What is wrong with you!? Let me go.” Hermione tugged irritatedly at her wrist.
“Can I do something first?” Fred asked, voice suddenly hushed.
There was a split second of silence, illuminated by a burst of lightning. She opened her mouth as if to tell him off, but then Fred stepped closer to her, crowding into her space, and her brown eyes widened, flicking down from his eyes to his mouth.
A booming clap of thunder, and then Fred was leaning down to press his lips against hers, pulling her into him by the waist.
She made a soft sound, and he made to pull back, but, wondrously, she raised her free hand to haul him in closer by the back of his neck…and kissed him back soundly.
Lightning flashed again, thunder rolling in its wake, and Fred kissed her like he’d never kissed anyone before, tangling a hand into her wild, wet mass of hair. The rain crashed around them as they chased each other’s lips, pushing and pulling at each other.
They broke apart slightly, both breathing heavily, and Fred dropped her wrist to cup her face with both hands, leaning his forehead against hers.
“Oh,” Hermione said, and she was smiling a little, almost as if against her will. “Was this what had you all worked up?”
“I’ll show you worked up,” Fred growled playfully, hauling her bodily to press her up against the nearest vertical surface, covering her back with one hand to protect her from the impact.
She made a small surprised and pleased sound as he backed her up, then tilted her head back and laughed. He swooped down to kiss the laugh off of her mouth, sweet from the Butterbeer they’d had after dinner.
“You’re mean when you’re hurting, you know,” she told him seriously, later, after they’d snogged some more. Her breath fogged up between them. “I don’t like that.”
They were standing almost nose to nose, huddled tightly together, rain still streaming over them, their faces numb with the cold.
“I’m sorry,” Fred sighed.
“I know,” Hermione said thoughtfully. She curled a hand in the wet material of his shirt at his side. “I didn’t even know you felt this way.”
“You must’ve suspected,” Fred disagreed. “You’re a smart girl.”
Hermione laughed. “Not about everything, Fred.” She leaned in to hug him, pressing her head to his chest. “I need a little time, Fred, to heal from this thing with Ron– both of us do. We ended on good terms, but we’re both still hurting a little, and I don’t know how he’d react to this.”
“Okay,” Fred said, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
He felt her mouth open into a smile as she nodded into his chest. “Okay,” she echoed.