Unlock My Heart
Hermione has a secret… and until now, she thought no one knew. One-shot, Fred/Hermione
Written especially for Close2MiiHeart, who was complaining about the lack of Fred/Hermione fics. I've never written one, but I hope you like this one! This is my first try at one of these, so be nice... I usually write R/Hr, so this was really hard for me.
"Fred, put that down!"
Hermione Granger, an eighteen year old medical resident at St Mungo's Hospital, was trying to get a book out of the hands of a tall redhead who was in the middle of reading it out loud. "Dear Diary," he mocked, holding the book high above the petite brunette's head and placing one hand over his heart. "Our potions instructor, Professor Snape, is such a blowhard. He wouldn't call on me once during our Potions class! I think I'm going to cry!"
"Very funny," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. "First off, that's a medical textbook and secondly, you're holding it upside down."
Fred winked at her before grinning broadly. "You know that's what you thought," he teased, dropping the book on her coffee table and plopping onto the settee. "I couldn't read that book if I tried," he admitted, placing his hands behind his head. "Now, what exactly have you roped me into doing this fine Saturday morning?"
Hermione wanted to pull out her hair and scream. Why, oh why was he the only one free today? She desperately needed help moving the boxes of books from her parents' house into her new flat, but she wasn't desperate enough to call Fred Weasley. She'd rather break her back than watch him touch her things. One because he'd probably break something and two because he'd be making memories no other man could erase.
That's right, she was ready to admit it. She was in love with Fred Weasley and there was nothing she could do about it.
"You don't have to do anything if you're going to act like that," she snapped, picking up a book and placing it on the shelf behind her. "Forget I even asked."
She heard him get up, and for a moment her heart stopped. He's leaving, she thought sadly, picking up another book and sitting it upright. "Aww, come on," he said, bending down to take a box. "I'm sorry, okay? I know very well what I'm supposed to be doing." He placed the box on the coffee table and took a few out. Standing next to her, he began stacking them on the shelves.
"No, no, no," she chided, rearranging the books he'd just put there. "They have to be organized alphabetically by author. That box was the X-Z authors, they go down here-" she pointed to the shelf below "-grab the box labeled G-H and stack them on that shelf."
"No reason to be anal," he mumbled, taking another box. "Want me to arrange them by size and color too?" he joked.
"Yes, that would be wonderful." She smiled when he groaned. "You just made more work for yourself."
They worked in silence for a few more minutes, Hermione sneaking an occasional glance at him. His brows were furrowed, and for once he looked serious. Although she loved his smile, seeing him acting serious was something she treasured.
It all happened after she left Hogwarts. During her seven years there, she always thought she'd fall for Ron, not his brother. But after Ron and Harry left for Auror training in America, she hadn't taken it as hard as she originally thought she would. Part of it was because she had to console Ginny, Harry's now ex-girlfriend, and another part was because Fred had warmed up to her a bit. She'd found him to be a great conversationalist, and the more time they spent together, the more she found herself looking forward to his company. It wasn't until he broke it off with his last girlfriend, Evelyn Stuart, that she realized she was slowing developing feelings for him.
A book dropped, bringing her out of her reverie. "Be careful," she snapped automatically.
"Sorry, I just realized this is a J book."
It took her a moment to realize he was sitting on the floor, stacking books on the lower shelves. That was her favorite thing about her new flat, three walls in the sitting room were basically built-in bookshelves.
She looked down at him and realized he was looking up. Not at her face, but up her skirt. His eyes drifted up to hers, and when he realized he'd been caught, he looked away, his neck and ears slowing turning pink. She looked away too, but her face was flushed for a different reason. He was checking me out! Her heart lifted and began beating so hard she was sure he could hear it.
"How's St Mungo's?" he asked several minutes later, not looking up from the shelf he was slowly filling with books.
She could see his neck was still pink, but when she realized she was supposed to answer the question, she needed a moment to find her voice. "Uh, fine," she answered hurriedly. "I'm interning in the pediatrics unit for the semester, then I'll go into the research department for the rest of the year."
"Cool," he replied softly. He looked up at her and she felt butterflies in her stomach as she looked into his eyes. "Seeing anyone lately?" he asked cautiously, almost hesitantly.
She was taken aback by the answer and thought about her answer. Sure, she'd been on dates, but nothing serious. A little voice in her head told her to just say yes to spite him, but instead she blurted out, "No, not really."
"Good," he mumbled, grabbing one of the shelves and pulling himself up. "Lee's having a birthday party for Alicia tonight and I," he paused, brushing an invisible piece of lint off his shirt, "don't have a date. That is, unless you want to come with me…" he trailed off and looked up at her. He widened his eyes pathetically, earning a small giggle from Hermione.
"Sure, why not?" Of course, her brain was already answering that question, but she ignored it. "What am I supposed to wear?" she asked suddenly, feeling stupid for asking the question. Clothes, her mind told her. I can't believe I just said that. I sound so fake…
Fred laughed, leaning back and pulling his long legs up. "I don't know, something nice. It's supposed to be a surprise, but I think Alicia already knows."
"Why would you think that?" Hermione asked, relieved he hadn't come back with something embarrassing. She hated blushing in front of him.
"She practically killed Angelina when Angie refused to tell her what she was getting Alicia for her birthday. I bet Angie got a real beating when Lee started acting all weird and she wouldn't tell her why. Alicia can get pretty violent when she wants to."
"Should I bring something?" Hermione asked, moving to sit on the couch.
Fred got up and sat next to her. "Just yourself," he told her, smiling. "And be ready to have fun, Lee's parties have the tendency to get a little out of control. Especially when George and I show up."
"You guys don't have anything horrible planned, right?" she asked, beginning to get nervous. She didn't want them to pull something and run off. "I mean, you aren't going to blow up anything, right?"
"Don't worry love," he told her, tossing an arm around her shoulders casually. She blushed, but he didn't seem to notice. "George and I have it all planned out. Nothing can go wrong."
Hermione looked in the mirror one last time and felt the urge to scream. She hated trying on clothes, it made her feel so shallow and vain, but now she wished she had Ginny's humongous wardrobe because she had nothing, literally nothing, to wear. After an hour of wallowing in the hole of vanity and hating every minute of it, she decided on a pair of jeans and black halter top.
She didn't remember buying either one.
She had used the potion she'd used in her fourth year to straighten her hair and it was now hanging around her shoulders loosely. She'd actually put on makeup, and now she barely recognized herself.
Pretty. Beautiful, actually.
The buzzer to her flat rang loudly, demanding attention from the distraught brunette, and as she crossed her sitting room floor, she realized she had no shoes. Looking around, she saw her worn pair of trainers sitting in the corner. "I'll be right there!" she shouted, running over there and summoning a pair of socks before slipping them on.
She flew to the door, throwing it open and almost dying when she saw who was on the other side.
There he was, leaning against the door in a pair of jeans that should have been illegal in twelve countries, was Fred Weasley. He had his arms crossed and the craziest grin she'd ever seen him wear, and the way he was looking at her made her want to melt. "Hey," he said, looking her up and down before nodding in approval.
"Hey," she replied shyly, feeling her whole body heat up. He just had that effect on her.
"Ready?" he asked, offering her his arm.
She took it, feeling an electric shock when their arms linked. "Yeah."
They didn't talk as they walked down the stairs, but the moment they stepped outside, Hermione regretted not bring a jacket. Goosebumps formed on her arms, and she shivered. "Cold?" Fred asked, watching as she shivered again.
"Just a little." Her teeth began chattering and she remembered why she hated October evenings. Fred stopped suddenly, and when she turned around, he was holding his leather jacket out to her. "No, that's okay," she told him softly.
"Mum would kill me if she knew I let you freeze to death," he told her somberly. She took it reluctantly, slipping her arms through the sleeves and immediately warming up. "Better?"
"Yeah," she admitted, wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to feel the silky lining of the jacket against her arms. She inhaled; the sharp, chilly air, the smell of leather and Fred's cologne made her weak in the knees. She felt his arm snake around her shoulders, and she found herself pressed against his side. Merlin he smells amazing… "Thanks," she told him, hoping her voice didn't shake too much.
"You're welcome," he told her, a pink tinge sneaking into his neck. "You look nice," he added as an afterthought, scratching the back of his neck. "Really nice."
"You clean up well too," she replied.
They didn't say a word to each other as they continued walking, but Hermione cast the occasional glance in his direction, and more times than not, she caught his eye. They'd both blush and look away, but he never removed his arm from around her shoulders.
Hermione knew they were getting close when she felt the ground vibrating beneath them. "Looks like they started early," Fred remarked. "I guess we're officially party crashers." He smiled fondly at the thought.
"Don't say that," Hermione scolded, trying not to laugh. "You were invited and I'm coming with you so we aren't crashing the party."
Fred shrugged, leading her down the stairs to the club. He removed his arm long enough to open the door, but before he stepped in, he took her hand.
She was surprised by his forwardness, but before she could analyze it, he pulled her into the swarm of people. She bumped into several people, but no one seemed to notice. Off in the corner she saw Ginny, but before she could call out to her, Fred kept dragging her.
He stopped suddenly, causing Hermione to bump into him. "George!" he shouted. "What's going on?"
The music was so loud they were both shouting. "So you're here with Hermione?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Fred replied, letting go of Hermione's hand. "Where's that blonde you were supposed to come with?"
George shrugged. "She's probably dancing on some table. I haven't seen her since they announced the tequila was gone. She freaked out. Wait, I see her. Damn, she's dancing on the bar…"
Fred laughed. "Did Ron and Harry make it?" he asked, casting a look over at Hermione after he mentioned Ron's name.
"Harry did, I have no idea where Ron is."
Hermione was getting bored, and hot, so while they were talking she pushed her way through the crowd to the table with the drinks and food. She wasn't about to touch the food, but she was so thirsty she ordered herself a glass of punch.
It tasted funny at first, but the more glasses she drank, the better it got. After six glasses, she found herself not caring what anyone thought as she threw herself out into the crowd. Everyone was dancing, and the moment she heard the music she threw her arms over her head and began dancing.
Somewhere far off, she heard someone calling her name, but she didn't care. It was a liberating feeling, not caring, but the voice calling her name kept coming closer and closer before it was close enough for her to recognize it.
"Fred!" she squealed, throwing her arms around the voice's owner. "How absolutely lovely it is to see you!"
"It's nice to see you too," he replied nervously, taking her wrists. She stumbled a bit, her balance beginning to fail as she became lightheaded. "Wait," he said, catching on. "Are you drunk?"
"No," Hermione slurred indignantly, clutching his forearms in an attempt to stay upright. "I'm fine."
"You're wasted!" Fred exclaimed, almost sounding proud. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when Hermione Granger got wasted at a club."
"I'm not-" she hiccupped loudly and pressed her hand over her heart "-wasted."
He laughed so hard he almost cried. "I think the responsible thing to do would be to take you home," he said somberly. "But I'm not responsible, so go ahead and dance."
"Only if you dance with me," she cried, taking his hand and pulling him close to her. She giggled drunkenly at his surprised look, but was pleased to find out he was a great dancer. "You're horrible!" she shouted over the music.
"Why? Because I'm so good looking? Or because I'm just plain horrible?" he asked, smiling playfully.
Suddenly, Hermione's head began to pound and her stomach jumped. She moaned, grabbing her head and stumbling back. She felt a hand wrap around her wrist and pull her forwards. "You okay?"
"No," she whined, closing her eyes. Suddenly the music was too loud, the club was too bright and the chatter was way, way too loud. "I want to go home."
"Aww, but the party is just starting!" he exclaimed, catching her as she stumbled forward. "How many drinks did you have anyway?"
"Seven," she admitted, holding onto his shirt as he led her towards the exit. "But they were little, itty bitty drinkies."
"Oh, you are so wasted. The Hermione Granger I know would never say 'drinkies'."
"The Hermione Granger you know is about to throw up all over you." She stopped when they were outside, and clutched her stomach. "I don't think I can make it to my toilet," she moaned.
Fred turned around. "Here."
She looked up long enough to see he was squatting. "What?" she asked as her stomach jumped again.
"Get on my back."
"I'll carry you to your flat," he explained as if he were talking to a child. "Just put your arms around my neck."
Hermione did as she was told, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He rose, and when her feet left the ground, she squealed. Fred hooked his arms underneath her knees, and began walking.
Hermione laid her cheek against his shoulder blade and sighed. "Never let me get drunk again."
"So you admit it," he exclaimed, lowering his voice after she shushed him. "You are drunk."
"Yes. Just take me home."
They didn't speak as Fred carried her home. She dozed off occasionally, waking up as he began climbing the stairs. "Are we there yet?" she asked yawning.
"Nope," he answered, placing his hands on her lower thighs and hoisting her up a bit. "Don't want to lose you," he joked, continuing up the stairs.
"Are we there yet?" she asked again, her arms slipping around his shoulders. "I think I'm going to barf."
"Not on the shirt," he told her seriously, letting go of her legs long enough to get his wand and unlock her door. He picked her back up, and carried her into the sitting room. He dropped her unceremoniously on the couch, and as she fell, he laughed.
She picked herself up and ran into the bathroom, practically diving for the toilet. She felt her insides twist, and just as she was about to throw up, she felt someone pull her hair back. When she was done, she looked up into a pair of deep blue eyes. "Hangover Potion?" he asked, holding out a small vile.
She took it and drank it slowly, feeling the burning liquid course down her throat. "Ewww," she said hoarsely, handing him the vile and wiping the corner of her mouth. "That's nasty."
He offered her his hand and she took it. He pulled her up and grinned. "That's the first time you've had it, I assume."
She scowled. "Yes. So what?"
He threw his hands up and backed off. "Someone's grouchy."
"Sorry," she mumbled, pushing past him and walking into her bedroom. "Goodnight Fred. Thanks for letting me get drunk."
"Anytime love, anytime."
Hermione pulled the shower curtain back and stepped inside, ready for a nice hot shower. Her sleep last night had been horrible, and after falling out of bed twice, she slept on top of her sheets and froze. Her dreams weren't much better; she had replayed the entire night, including him watching her barf her brains out. I bet that was attractive…
She twisted the shower knob, expecting to be hit with hot water, but was instead greeted by a flurry of pink powder. "Damn it!" she swore, temporarily blinded. She stumbled around, trying to turn it off, but instead she fell into the curtain. The plastic ripped off the hooks, and as she fell it wrapped around her. She landed with a loud thump, and for a few moments she just lay there. Damn, damn, double damn…
She bolted up. He's still here! And I'm naked! Oh crap, clothes! Where are my clothes! Then she remembered she had left them in her room. Picking herself up off the floor, she wrapped the shower curtain around herself, careful to cover herself. She took a deep breath and turned the knob.
"Are you okay?"
"No," she snarled, opening the door the rest of the way. He tried to cover a laugh, unsuccessfully, and that just made her even more upset. "What were you thinking? You could have killed me! Not only did I ruin my shower curtain, my bathroom is a mess and you're just standing here laughing? You are the most insensitive, self-centered, immature git I know! I can't believe I thought I was in love with you!"
She covered her mouth upon realizing what she had just said. Fred stopped laughing and his mouth fell open. "What?" he stammered, blinking idiotically.
"You heard me," she snapped, regaining control of her mouth and mind. "Just leave, please."
She made a move for her room, but even before she made it to the door, he blocked her. "You love me?"
Hermione was at an utter loss for words. She'd screwed herself over royally. "I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I am wrapped in a shower curtain, have incredibly frizzy hair and covered in pink dust. I look horrible, I smell bad, and I would like to change."
He didn't respond, and at first she thought he wouldn't. "Hermione," he whispered, touching her cheek softly. "You'll always be perfect to me."
And without warning, he leaned in and kissed her. It was awkward, Hermione being in nothing but a shower curtain, but after awhile she forgot about that and kissed him with all the pent up passion she'd been keeping bottled up.
They broke apart, Fred resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry about the powder, it was supposed to come in after you showered."
She smacked him playfully. "Mess with my shower again and I'll make you sort my books by colors and size."
"Why am I itchy?"
Good, bad, horrible? Let me know please:)