#oh yeah cavi also knew him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanfictionaries · 4 years

Text

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 3 - Be My Somebody

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

The events of the Quidditch World Cup seem like a distant memory for everyone. Everyone except Hermione Granger. Night before the group of Gryffindors are to leave on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione Granger finds herself pleasantly distracted from the nightmares she's endured every since her chase in the forest with Frederick Weasley. Who knew Fred could be such pleasant company?

Fred ponders on his second to last year at Hogwarts and his plans for the future, while juggling the complicated relationship he has with Angelina and his ever growing need to figure out the enigma that is Hermione Granger.

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note: I will now be updating this story every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)! Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<-- Chapter 2

Last night was a record to be broken It broke all over the kitchen floor Oh no, don't you go I'm coming back with a rag To wipe away the haze from the days We've forgotten all about

The clock ticked but it did not track the time, as Hermione sat in the empty living room of the Weasley home. Lazily, she scanned the pages of the book in her lap, but it was not enough to keep her eyes from drooping with the weight of sleep. It was far past bedtime and everyone else had gone to sleep hours ago. Everyone except Hermione. Instead, she had stayed awake with her charms book in her lap and the looming fear of night in the back of her mind. It had been exactly seven days and six nights since the Quidditch World Cup and for six nights she had dreamed of it. Or to be more exact, she had endured nightmares of it. Every time she allowed herself to sleep, she was plagued by dark hooded figures and swirling green snakes. She tried everything she could to combat it: warm milk, exercise, meditation, she even spent all her time studying just to fill her mind with things other than dark witches and wizards, but it seemed that nothing was going to work. So instead, she had decided to just forgo sleep altogether. Again, her mind was drifting as she read and reread the words on the page in front of her. With a sigh, she closed the book and set it beside her before leaning forward in her seat and resting her face in her hands. She was tired. But she was also afraid, and she couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like that night had been the first time in her life that she had been placed in mortal danger. In fact, she had probably faced things that many adults hadn’t. Yet, it seemed that her encounter with You-Know-Who’s followers, or Death Eaters as the Daily Prophet had named them in their article on the attack, had been a turning point. She just felt…different. The whole situation had felt different. More real. And she had been left with a looming sense of dread ever since. With a yawn, she stood and headed towards the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea would help her stay awake.

Stumbling through the door to the kitchen on weary limbs, she walked over to the kettle and filled it with water before placing it on the stove and reaching to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“Burning the midnight oil Granger?”

The mug slipped from her fingers as she jumped in surprise. Turning she saw one of the twins standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking at her with an amused expression. Slowly he moved further into the kitchen and Hermione identified him as Fred.

“Merlin, Frederick. You scared me,” she whispered harshly, bending to pick up the broken shards of ceramic.

“Allow me—" Fred pulled his wand from his pocket “—Reparo.” The pieces of the mug lifted from the ground and swirled to the air, fusing together until it formed a singular form and landed gently in Hermione’s hand.

“You’re really not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts Frederick,” she scolded, staring down at the cup in her hands.

“Thank you, Fred. You’re too kind, Fred—” he mocked in a high-pitched voice that Hermione could only assume was supposed to be her “—That rule really only applies to muggleborns, Granger. It’s hard for the ministry to really know who’s doing what when a house is filled with nothing but witches and wizards.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes, and turning back to the counter. She set the mug down gently, careful not to break it once again and closed her eyes, trying not to focus on the irritation that Fred interrupting her had elicited. The last thing she wanted was a rowdy Fred Weasley attempting to play mind games at this time of night. However, this was his home and not hers. He was perfectly allowed to wander wherever he liked, whenever he liked.

“I was just making some tea. Would you like some?” she asked politely, turning back to face the tall and lanky boy. Fred had moved even further into the kitchen and was leaning against the table, looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite discern. It was almost like he was trying to figure something out. Wordlessly he pushed away from the table and grabbed a second mug from the cupboard above her. He placed it on the counter beside hers and looked down at her, still with the same indiscernible expression.

“I got it, why don’t you sit down?”

Hermione’s brain skipped for a second at the uncharacteristically kind gesture.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own cup of tea Frederick, and besides—"

“—and besides, you’re a guest in this house and it’s the hospitable thing to do.”

Hermione looked up at Fred suspiciously causing him to chuckle, “I’m not going to poison your tea Granger. Contrary to what mum says, she did manage to teach George and me some manners.”

Hermione took another second to analyze the risk before she nodded and sat down at the table, watching as Fred grabbed the boiling kettle and tea. She guessed it wasn’t too out of character for him to be kind. After all, the night of the Quidditch World Cup he had been very kind. He had given her his cardigan and he had comforted her when she had been scared and upset. He had even gotten into a fight for her, her second year when Draco Malfoy had called her a mudblood. Hermione figured it was his instinct as an older brother that led him to feel protective of her. She was only two years older than Ginny and a year older than Ron. It was nice to think of herself as part of a family like that. Hermione didn’t have any brothers or sisters and being so far from home all the time, she often missed that familial connection. But she had the Weasleys and Harry, and while she certainly loved them like family she often wondered if they felt the same way about her.

“How do you take your tea?” Fred’s voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up to see him looking at her again, this time with a more casual and friendly expression.

“Oh, 5 spoons of sugar and no cream please.”

“Bit of a sweet tooth there, Granger?” Fred laughed, causing Hermione to blush slightly.

“Yeah—" she laughed nervously “—my parents are always warning me about cavities, but I don’t really listen.”

“Cavi—?” Fred asked confusedly as he carried the two mugs of tea to the table.

“Cavities. They’re a muggle disease that affect your teeth. It makes them rot out of your head. You get them when you don’t brush your teeth or from eating too much sugar.” Hermione accepted her mug of tea from Fred appreciatively and brought it to her lips, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a small sip. It was perfectly sweet and just the way she liked it. Fred nodded at her explanation and took a sip from his mug as well.

“I like my tea the opposite, milk and no sugar—" he placed his mug down on the table, his large hands wrapping almost all the way around it “—I’ve never been much of a fan of sweets myself. George is though.”

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, as they sat drinking their tea. Both of them unsure of what to say to other.

“I never thanked you for the other night,” Hermione admitted, wondering why that had been the first thing to pop into her mind for conversation. She really didn’t want to talk about what had happened that night, so why had she said that?

“For what?” Fred asked casually, taking another sip of his tea.

“For lending me your cardigan. It was very…gentlemanly of you.” Fred had given her an out and she had gladly taken it.

“Well as long as you don’t go skipping about school telling everyone how much of a gentleman I am, then I guess we’re even,” he gave her a playful wink and a friendly smile. She smiled in return, finding it hard not to when Fred’s was so infectious.

“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten it back to you yet, but I wanted to wash it first and admittedly, it’s quite comfortable. I’ll be sad to give it up,” Hermione confessed.

“That’s because mum made it. Her knitting is the best.”

“Harry and Ron always say that about their Christmas jumpers as well.”

“Don’t you have one?” Fred asked, his voice a tone of surprise. Hermione shook her head, blushing in embarrassment. No, she had not received a jumper from Mrs. Weasley. Something that she tried not to think about every Christmas when Harry and Ron showed her their new patterns and designs. She knew that it shouldn’t hurt her. It made sense. Harry had no family beside his horrid aunt and uncle, and Mrs. Weasley therefore felt as though she were responsible for his wellbeing. Hermione on the other hand had two very loving parents that adored her. She was not left wanting for much of anything. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a small pang of jealousy every year.

“So, what are you doing up so late?” Hermione changed the subject, looking down into her tea and then back up at Fred. He looked tired, something she had never seen on the jovial face of the well-known trickster. Small bags hung under his hazel eyes and his pale skin looked a tinge grey, or maybe it was just the poor, lamp lit kitchen casting shadows. Fred rubbed his eyes with his hands and took a deep breath.

“I never sleep well the night before the first day of school.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess it started the first couple of years just because I was so excited but now it’s almost a tradition. It’s like my body knows, even if I’m not as excited as I used to be—” his laugh had a bitter edge to it as he brought his mug back up to his lips and took a long gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed “—What about you? I don’t normally have company these nights.”

Hermione brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of her tea to buy time before answering, “I guess I just have too much on my mind.”

Fred let out a barking laugh.

“What?” Hermione asked, wondering what about her answer had been so amusing.

“Nothing, there’s just something really amusing about you having too much on your mind. Is that even possible?” Fred raised an eyebrow amusedly.

“I know a full and active mind is a foreign concept to you Frederick but yes, it is entirely possible,” Hermione wanted to swallow her tongue as soon as she said the words. So far, she had had the advantage of a swift exit every time she had made a joke at his expense. Now, however, with Fred sitting across from her looking at her as if she were a new species he had just discovered, she wasn’t sure if he was going to write extensive studies on her or poach her for sport. All her worries were washed away, however, when Fred burst out into laughter. The tension flooded from her body and she joined him, laughing until her eyes watered.

“That was a good one Granger,” Fred chuckled. “Are you thinking of dropping out of Hogwarts and becoming a comedian now?”

“No, that seems more your speed.” Hermione smirked and placed her mug onto the table, leaning back on the bench and crossing her arms.

“Oh, a clown then. You’ve definitely got the hair for it.”

Usually Hermione would have been irate at his comment but instead she found herself leaning forward across the table and ruffling Fred’s shaggy red hair, “Only if you lend me this ridiculous color. It’s so bright and obnoxious, I wouldn’t even need to put the nose on.”

Fred shooed her hands away as she giggled. “Oh, I’m sure all my family would love to hear that.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Hermione gasped, placing her hands on her hips and looking down at his sitting figure.

“Alright, you’re right. I wouldn’t, but only because I love them and wouldn’t dream of ruining their perfect image of you.” He placed a hand over his heart in mocking sincerity that only caused them both to chuckle again as Hermione sat back down.

“Oh please, I’m far from perfect,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head at the ridiculous notion, looking down into her tea as the atmosphere around them settled into a comfortable silence. Gone was the uneasy tension from before and in its place was a warm familiarity. She rested her chin on the heel of her palm and quietly sipped her tea as they sat, just enjoying the peaceful kitchen – so different then from the usual chaos it housed. It wasn’t until she felt a warm hand touch her forearm that she realized she had closed her eyes and was dozing. She blinked rapidly, taking in the sight of Fred across the table from her, giving her an amused smile.

“I think it’s time for bed,” he spoke softly, and Hermione nodded in response, standing slowly and heading towards the stairs. She looked back to see Fred carrying their mugs to the sink.

“Goodnight Fred.”

“Goodnight Hermione.”

“The nerve of the woman!” George cried in outrage as he slid the compartment door open and plopped himself down next to Alicia.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Lee asked, looking through a pile of chocolate frog cards on his lap.

“We had all our order forms made out for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and a sizable inventory packed and ready to take with us, and the vile woman confiscated the whole lot this morning!” George huffed in frustration. “We spent all night getting ready!”

“I spent all night getting ready. You fell asleep early,” Fred reminded his brother, but was ignored as George pouted looking out the window.

“I have half a mind to test out some new products on her.”

“She didn’t get everything Georgie. Besides, do you really think it’s wise to prank our own dear, sweet mum? Especially after she was so apologetic about scolding us for our O.W.L.’s when we got back from the Cup?” Fred raised an eyebrow at his twin and closed the compartment behind him before sitting down next to Angelina.

She flashed him a small smirk and nudged his side with an elbow. Holding out a hand, her offered him some jelly slugs to which he declined politely. Angelina was one of his oldest friends, he had known her since his first year at Hogwarts and they had become close friends through the hours and hours of Quidditch practice that their captain, Oliver Wood, had put them through. So, it made sense that they shared their first kiss in fourth year behind the quidditch pitch. I don’t want my first kiss to be awkward and horrible with someone I actually fancy, she said before she had leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Then, last year, in their fifth year, it seemed like a reasonable step when they lost their virginities to each other too. Why not just get it out of the way? I don’t want to be a virgin forever, she confessed to him one night when they were both up late in the common room. Fred of course wasn’t going to argue with her, his teenage hormones telling him to grasp every opportunity as tightly as a jinxed broomstick. It, of course, had been a mess of limbs and fumbling lips that ended much too early for his liking. Since then, something that was supposed to have been a one-time thing turned into a regular activity.

“Say, do we get any of these brilliant inventions of yours for free? Because, you know, we’re your friends,” Lee asked, putting his feet up in the windowsill of the train.

“Not a chance!” Fred barked, grabbing a jelly slug from Angelina’s lap and throwing it at the boy sitting opposite him.

“Really? Not even for me?” Angelina looked up at him through her lashes, a sarcastic attempt at seduction he was very much immune to.

“Especially not for you,” he all but growled back teasingly. She laughed in his face as she rolled her eyes and snagged a chocolate frog from Lee.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could have one of those Angelina Johnson,” Lee stressed her whole name accusingly, crossing his arms in distaste.

“I didn’t ask, Lee Jordan,” she mocked his scolding tone, causing the whole compartment to break out into laughter – even George, who seemed to be in better spirits as he indulged in the sweets being passed throughout the compartment. While Fred was also particularly angry with their mother, he couldn’t be too angry as she hadn’t done irreparable damage. They had won some money off their father’s friend, Ludo Bagman, at the Quidditch World Cup. It would be more than enough to replace everything she had gotten rid of and then some.

It had been surprising how quickly everything went back to normal after the World Cup. When they arrived home, their mother almost hugged them half to death, going on and on about how he and George could have died, and how she was sorry she yelled at them all the time. She even apologized about criticizing their O.W.L.s, which was surprising because Fred secretly agreed with her about how pitiful they were. That of course, didn’t stop her from searching their trunks and emptying their pockets before they left for the Hogwarts Express, but he couldn’t really be mad at her. She had looked so upset, and he hated seeing her truly upset. George…he cared a little less.

The five of them sat for a while, Angelina and Alicia chatting about some article they had read in Witches Weekly, George and Lee trading Chocolate Frog cards they had collected over the summer, and Fred looking out the window, watching as the scenery passed by. The rushing sounds of the train seemed to blur into a humming white noise that blended nicely with the laughter and shouts of his friends and the other students running through the train. Quickly, he felt his eyes begin to droop and a yawn escaped his lungs. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. He blamed Granger almost entirely for it. He had just gone downstairs to grab a glass of water after tossing and turning in bed for a few hours, and instead of finding the quiet solace of an empty kitchen, she had been there. It should have surprised him to find her standing there in front of the stove, baggy pants and shirt engulfing her small frame almost as much as her big, bushy hair did. Everything about Hermione was big: big clothes, big hair, big teeth, big eyes, big mouth, big brain. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t big about her was her stature, which he found to be quite funny. All those big features on such a small, little girl – it was almost so comical she might as well not be real. Or at least that’s what he thought when he stood watching her from the bottom of the staircase before he decided to let his presence be known. For a second, he had considered just turning around and going back to bed, but then thoughts of her seemingly new brash personality came into mind and he decided that maybe he needed to get to know Hermione Granger a little more.

Their conversation had been surprisingly entertaining. He had never had a better conversation with her – in fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever had a conversation with her, just the two of them. But then again, why would he? However, it was because of this conversation that he found himself in bed later that night, or morning to be more accurate, more awake than ever. If he had just been able to get a glass of water in peace, he would have been able to walk back upstairs and fall asleep calmly, but instead he had been energized by their conversation, even if she fell asleep near the end of it.

“So, how was everyone’s summer?” Angelina asked casually, breaking the silence, and bringing Fred out of his thoughts.

“Well, I spent the whole time helping my mum around the house and helping my dad in the garden. So, just lovely,” Lee replied sarcastically.

“Speaking of parents, were any of your parents acting odd this summer?” Alicia spoke up.

“Odd how?” George questioned, turning to look at the girl next to him.

“Like they knew something about the school year that we didn’t? My dad just kept saying how much fun I was in for and how he wished he were back at Hogwarts. It was really weird,” Alicia admitted.

Thinking about it, Fred did recall the number of comments made by his father about how they were in for a great year and how he wished he were sixteen again. He and George just assumed it was some kind of mid-life crisis, but now it didn’t seem that way anymore.

“Now that you mention it our dad was doing the same thing. Right Freddie?”

“Yeah, and Charlie kept saying things about how he’d be seeing us sooner than usual.”

“And who can forget the way Percy kept walking around with his nose in the air, talking about how he knew some great big secret that none of us knew,” George said, shaking his head.

“Git,” they remarked together.

“What do you suppose is going on then?” Lee asked, lifting his legs off the windowsill and crossing one ankle over the other in front of him.

“Beats me,” Fred and George answered.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough—" Angelina concluded, pinching Fred’s side inconspicuously “—I’m going to the loo. Be right back.”

Fred watched as the young witch stood and exited the compartment. He sat there for a while, listening to Lee complain about getting Dumbledore again after opening a chocolate frog, before standing himself.

“Think I’m going to go and try to nick some sweets from the trolley, want anything?” Fred looked to his brother who was leaning against the wall next to the window.

“No, I think you’ll have your hands full,” said George knowingly.

Fred smirked and walked out of the compartment. Turning left, he travelled through the train, peeking into the compartments as he walked past them. Groups of unfamiliar first years filled the spaces—some sitting rod straight in fear and some bouncing in their seats with excitement. Traveling further, he saw a group of Ravenclaws engaged in a heated debate, a few Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls piled over a copy of Witches Weekly, some Slytherins talking idly, and one or two students frantically working on what appeared to be last minute summer homework. All these students, they had so much time left and here he was, approaching his second to last year. Soon he would have to go into the big, wide world. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and do it all over again. He wouldn’t change anything, but he definitely would savor the experience. He had wandered into the last carriage of the train when he felt hands grab his arm and pull him into a seemingly empty compartment. Soft, full lips enveloped his as he slid the door shut behind him and locked it with a simple spell. What happened next could only be described as a frantic clash of lips, teeth, and skin.

“Well that was fun,” Fred stated casually some time later as he watched Angelina twist her skirt back in the right direction.

“It was. I’ve missed having you around,” Angelina responded genuinely.

“Oh, I see, you just missed having my body at your beck and call Miss Johnson? Well don’t I feel used,” Fred laughed, causing Angelina to roll her eyes.

“Come on then, we should probably get back before anyone suspects anything.” Angelina crossed her arms and waited for the boy in front of her to stand up.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about that—" Fred informed her as he tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up his trousers “—George already knows and everyone else in our group is too oblivious to put two and two together.”

“It’s cute that you think Alicia doesn’t know every single detail as well.” Angelina patted him on the cheek before grabbing the door handle to the compartment.

Upon returning to the others, no one seemed to care about how long they had been gone, or what they had been up to, just like Fred had known they wouldn’t. The train came to a stop soon thereafter and they were again, back at Hogwarts. Fred gazed up at the large castle through the window of their horseless carriage as it pulled them up towards the main entrance, rocking back and forth over the uneven dirt path. Every window seemed to glow a warm yellow despite the cold, grey storm that brewed in the sky. Fred thanked Merlin that Dumbledore thought of everything when it came to Hogwarts, noticing how the carriages had been equipped with roofs this time to accommodate for the rain that was beginning to fall. He pulled his robes closer to protect himself from the uncommonly chilly night and thought of warm things, like dinner in the Great Hall, the fireplace in the Gryffindor Tower, or even the nice clean sheets of his bed.

With all the grandeur, grey stone, and looming appearance that was Hogwarts, it held a familiar and homey feeling to Fred and George. It was their own personal playground, where they could get into a sizable amount of trouble with close to no repercussions. They knew every hide away, every secret passageway, they even knew where Filch and Mrs. Norris would be at most times. In fact, the moments in which they did get in trouble were due more to pure carelessness than ineptitude. When they finally entered the Great Hall, Fred and George were excitedly planning on setting off a couple of Dungbombs in the Prefect’s bathroom later that night. They sat down at their usual place at the Gryffindor table, Fred beginning to recount the last time they bombed the Prefect’s bathroom to Lee, when George broke their conversation to nudge him in the side and point down the table. Hermione Granger was soaked head to toe.

“You’re looking a bit…damp, Granger,” George said suggestively.

“If you must know, Peeves was throwing water balloons outside the Great Hall when we arrived,” the little witch responded, her nose raised high in the air.

“You hear that Freddie? It was Peeves that got her soaked,” George stressed the last word, hoping to get a blush out of the little goody-two shoes through sexual innuendo, but she merely kept her gaze and expression neutral.

“Oh, shucks Georgie, for a second I thought we were the only ones to make our little Granger all wet,” Fred chimed in with his brother and they both snickered. He knew that when it came to the fine art of riling someone up, sexual innuendo was the cheapest way to go. But a part of him longed to push the swotty fourth year as far as he could, to see if there was a threshold to her newly acquired sass. If that meant he had to stoop to cheap tricks, so be it.

He got his answer much sooner than he expected—their laughter cut short when Hermione decided to grace them with her next response, “Please, I do have some self-respect.”

The well-coined response sitting at the tip of Fred’s tongue, fell flat and short the moment his brain processed what Hermione said. He smiled, widely, quirking an eyebrow and nodding once towards his twin and then towards the bushy-haired girl as if to say ‘Touché Granger, Touché’.

Chapter 4 -->

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #hermione x fred #fremione #hermione granger #fred weasley

41 notes · View notes