Chapter Text
The first time Fred saw Hermione, she was a second year, two years younger than him. He found her nerdy and annoying, so he avoided her. Unfortunately, this became difficult to do since she became best friends with his younger brother Ron.
They saw each other more and more as time went on.
Hermione never really paid much attention to Fred, or his twin brother George. To her, they were like mosquitoes, always buzzing around, sneaking up on people with their immature pranks.
They never took anyone else seriously, so she never took them seriously. They were simply there for entertainment purposes, nothing more.
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It was nearing the end of Summer. Hermione sat leaned on the edge of her bed, reading a piece of parchment with Ron's messy handwriting. He had invited her to visit the burrow for the Quidditch World Cup.
She and Ron had kept in close contact all Summer, writing letters weekly. This was a very new development. It seemed they were finally starting to tolerate each other.
"Writing to that little girlfriend of yours again?" George had sneered over Ron's shoulder.
"Come on, mate. Not Granger." Fred had said, groaning. "Won't let you have any fun. Can't even count the number of times she got us in trouble with Mcgonnagal for our dorm parties."
"I'm not dating Hermione. Now shut it both of you."
Hermione didn't hesitate to begin packing. London had been dreadfully boring all Summer. She didn't have many muggle friends, so most of the time she was in her room reading. She couldn't wait to sleep under Ginny's warm quilt, braiding each other's hair and gossiping about boys. She also missed Ron and Harry more than anything, and of course Mrs. Weasley's cooking.
"That's bullshit. Ireland's gonna win no matter what. I'm placing my bets early." Fred said, laying on his back with his legs propped up against the wall, wearing nothing but plaid boxers.
George sat at his desk in a robe, quill in hand, writing a letter to Angelina Johnson. She was a fellow quidditch player he had been talking to via owl all Summer. He paused and looked over at Fred.
"D'you reckon beautiful's spelled with an A or two E's?"
Fred looked at George for a moment. Then, without hesitation, he got up from the floor and smacked George on the back of his head.
"You bloody idiot. Can't even spell but thinks he can pull a girlfriend. That's just sad." Fred chuckled, shaking his head.
"Oi, I pull more than you!" George protested.
Fred peeked his head out into the hallway, inhaling deeply. "Mmmmmm. The smell of mum's baking is making me hungry. I'm gonna go downstairs. Have fun using our dying owl to sext with Angelina.
With that, George launched a pillow at the back of Fred’s head.
"Ow! Bloody hell!"
"Boys!" You better not be fighting again! That's four galleons in the fighting jar, both of you! Molly Weasley shrieked from the doorway.
Hermione stood with her trunk in one hand and her cat, Crookshanks, in the other.
She couldn't wait to be back inside the burrow, already smelling the strong aroma of freshly baked brownies wafting over from the kitchen. Even the twins being scolded my Mrs. Weasley felt nostalgic.
"So sorry, dear. Do come in!" Molly smiled and ushered Hermione inside as Ginny came downstairs. Her face lit up instantly at the sight of Hermione.
"Hermione!" Ginny squealed, running to Hermione and nearly tackling her to the ground.
"Easy Ginny, you're not at the quidditch pitch right now." Hermione chuckled as she pulled Ginny in for a tight hug.
"I missed you so so so much!" Ginny was squeezing so tightly that Hermione could barely breathe.
"Missed .. you .. too." Hermione gasped for air as Ginny let go of her tight grasp. "Where's Harry and Ron?" Hermione glanced around, there was no sign of her friends.
Fred had heard the commotion from downstairs. He decided to leave George alone to his private business. The thought alone made him want to puke anyway.
He stumbled down the staircase, shirtless, running a hand through his hair, which had grown long and messy over summer. Not watching where he was going, he crashed into Hermione, who was making her way up the stairs.
"Oh, Hermione." He muttered, giving her a small grin.
"Fred." She said, nodding.
They held eye contact for a moment. This was.. new.
She had had never really looked him properly in his eyes, not up-close like this. She could make out the freckles on his nose.. and his toned stomach.
Fred noticed that her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, a few loose strands dangling in her eyes.
Hermione inhaled sharply. "Just going to wake Harry and Ron up." she started to squeeze past him.
"Right, yeah. Enjoy..?" he cringed as he said it.
A small laugh escaped her lips as she nodded, then scurried off to wake the boys.