Fremione! "I can't believe you talked me into this"
Everything was ready. The plan was flawless and they’d been going over it for weeks. Today was the day, today it was finally going to happen.
And then, hopefully, George would shut his big fat mouth.
Fred’s face couldn’t help but contort into a blissful grin as he envisioned a future where his brother and Angelina finally got together, meaning that Fred finally got to go ten seconds without hearing his twin talking about how amazing Angelina was or having him ask Fred if he too had noticed the confidence she carried now as their team captain.
Instead, Fred held out hope that the two of them getting together would mean less talk and more snog, strange as that might sound. But if it was for the greater good! Even Lee, who never shied away from expressing admiration for any lady, was growing tired of the rambles of a lovesick idiot.
It was near Christmas and mistletoes existed in abundance, but the one Fred had designed was engineered to nail down anyone who stepped underneath and wouldn’t let go until they’d kissed properly—as in none of that friendly peck on the cheeks nonsense. There would be no room for misinterpretation. All that remained was for Lee to steer the lovebirds to stand beneath the archway on the fourth floor. It was secluded and quite romantic with its view of the snow-covered grounds and the looming sunset. It was the perfect setting for his plan …
Fred startled, flying up from his crouched position where he’d been peeking around the corner to where the archway was, and turned around meeting Hermione Granger’s suspicious gaze. She raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”
Recovering from the surprise, Fred plastered on the most innocent smile available in his repertoire. “Hermione,” he said, “good evening.”
She wasn’t fooled and crossed her arms, making her robes move and call attention to the shining Prefect badge on her chest. “What are you up to?”
“I—“ There was a tingling sensation and Fred stopped in horror. He looked to the side, with Hermione following his move, and as he’d predicted, there was his brother. But he wasn’t alone.
“Angelina?” Hermione’s frown from before let up and was replaced with a look of surprise. “I thought you were on your way to the Quidditch pitch?”
Angelina grimaced. Fred could hear the gears in Hermione’s brain working next to him, attempting to discern the cause of Angelina’s guilt-ridden face.
Fred addressed his brother, “George, tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”
George—who unlike Angelina bore no signs of feeling bad—smirked. “I did nothing that you hadn’t already planned on doing to me, Freddie.”
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” grumbled Angelina as the twins were fighting a battle with their eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”
Hermione’s eyes bulged. “What? What is happening, Angelina? Why can’t I move?”
Fred broke away from glaring at his brother and pointed up, sighing, “Mistletoe.”
Hermione groaned. “Merlin …”
“Now, we’re merciful enough to not gather you an audience, but hopefully this’ll remind you to not meddle,” said George, catching Fred’s attention again.
Fred ignored Hermione’s questioning eyes, knowing that she wanted to know how much he was to blame for their situation. He instead busied himself shouting obscenities at his brother, who did nothing but wave unconcernedly whilst walking away, Angelina trailing behind him and sending a last ‘sorry’ Hermione’s way.
Once they were around the corner and out of sight, Fred stopped his shouting but continued cursing his twin in his mind. If they had the connection everyone always claimed they had, then George would be hearing him loud and clear.
“What do we do now?” Hermione asked after a moment of silence.
“There’s nothing to do,” admitted Fred, facing her at last. “This thing isn’t going to let up until we’ve done as told.”
“I can’t believe someone with your genius didn’t build in a failsafe.”
“Failsafe?” asked Fred, hint of a smile growing wider, “And excuse me, did you say genius?”
Hermione ignored him, “Failsafe, as in a code word in case you wanted to abort the mission.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know—perhaps for situations like this one!”
Fred grinned, “You know, we could really use brains like yours developing products.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, which did nothing to hide the fact that the flattery had got to her, “This is not the time to try and recruit me. Honestly, what are we going to do?”
Fred took some time to think, going over the various precautions he’d taken to ensure that whoever ended up beneath the mistletoe wouldn’t be able to get out. There really was nothing else to do but … He swallowed at the thought. This was not how he’d imagined this would go. He’d built up this image of what he was going to do for so long now that the fact that reality had caught up with him made him question everything. Surely, Hermione couldn’t be looking at him with those gorgeous and clever brown eyes of hers, asking him for a solution. Surely, she wasn’t standing so close that he could feel the warmth of her against his front (he forgot that this was because of the gravitation spell he’d cast on the mistletoe) and that he could count the freckles on her nose that were infinitely fewer than his. Surely, she wasn’t there for him to kiss. It was insane. It was preposterous. But somehow, it was reality.
Hermione spoke then, her eyes taking on an amused glint, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.”
Fred couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “You do have that effect on me.” He summoned some courage and willed his hand to move a lock of hair behind her ear.
To his delight, a furious blush appeared on the witch’s face. “I …erm, that is …”
“Look,” said Fred, “there really only is one way to get away from this mistletoe and …I’m afraid that—“
“Fred, I’d rather give you a small kiss than stand here any longer, so perhaps we should just get it over with.” Hermione’s face remained red, but she looked determined. Fred felt sorry as soon as he told her it wouldn’t be that easy, and watched her determination faltered.
“Bloody hell, I need to build one of those failsafes next time.”
Hermione bit her lip and nodded in agreement. “All right, we should …we should just go ahead. And do it. I mean, do the kissing. That.”
Fred let out a long breath. “All right. Try to not fall in love with me after this, Granger,” he added with a wink to cover up how nervous he was.
To his surprise this made Hermione’s eyes widen in horror. Something inside Fred stirred at the look. “Granger?” he asked. “…Hermione?”
“I …” Hermione avoided looking at him now. She shook her head. “Nevermind, it’s nothing. Let’s just do this and you can leave to do your pranks.”
Something wasn’t quite right, but before Fred could ask what was wrong, Hermione had grabbed him by his tie and crushed her lips against him.
At first, there was surprise. Then, amazement at the feel of her soft mouth caressing his and the way her body molded itself against him, making him clutch her tighter at the waist with one hand and tangling into her hair with the other. And after that, Fred’s sense made a slow return and he noticed the desperation emanating from the girl he was kissing. The only girl he’d wanted to kiss for months now. But somehow, he didn’t think she knew that. So he made sure she knew.
Hermione made a startled noise as his kiss deepened, but he could feel confusion gradually replace the emotions from before. After a while, the two of them broke apart gasping for air and Hermione’s eyes searched frantically over his face.
“Fred,” she asked, her eyebrows pulling close together, “are you …?”
“Yes,” he said, determined to meet her uncertain gaze as steadily as he could. “For a long time now.”
“Bloody hell,” she breathed. And then she pulled him close again, neither of them noticing that the mistletoe above them had burst into colours before disappearing.
“It’s worse than I imagined,” Lee groaned, watching Fred and Hermione. He righted himself and looked back at Angelina and George standing next to him behind the wall. “But hopefully this’ll put a stop to his ramblings, the lovesick idiot that he is.”