A/N: Just a little something I hand wrote last night and typed up this afternoon. It's short, it's not my best, but I wanted to venture back into the depths of twin/Hermione cos I used to be in love with that pairing. Set after Ron and Hermione's argument after the Yule Ball if you didn't grasp that fact. Title has been stolen from Mike Skinner - I had trouble naming this piece, I wanted to call it Smile because Hermione smiles a lot once Fred steps in but I had a Doctor Who fic called that, not sure if I deleted it or not but even so. Erm, not much else to say...if you read By Any Other Name, I'm about to do some writing on the next chapter and I hope it'll be posted soon and that's about it. Read, review, and enjoy.
Dry Your Eyes, Mate.
by Flaignhan.
Parvati and Lavender were giggling.
Hermione thought Eloise Midgen had looked very nice. Apparently her dorm-mates thought otherwise. In the end, she grew so tired of their gossiping, gushing and general girliness that she left the dormitory, slamming the door behind her, he temper still not having completely dissipated.
When she arrived in the common room, it came as a welcome relief to find that it was deserted. She collapsed into one of the squashy armchairs by the dying fire and began to fiddle with her periwinkle blue dress robes. She heard the portrait hole open a few times, normally followed by giggles from girls, or boys voicing their relief that the ball was finally over and done with. They didn't notice Hermione; for she was hidden by the large back of the armchair she was sitting in and was facing away from the entrance, looking towards deep red velvet curtains that hung from ceiling to floor, covering what was most likely a snowy and star strewn sky. Hermione was grateful that nobody could see her, because this meant that she wouldn't have to explain away her tears, or deal with the curiosity that surrounded her and Viktor.
She was just considering going to bed, feeling that Parvati and Lavender must have fallen asleep by now as it was so late, when the portrait hole opened again. The two Gryffindors that came in were giggling quietly and shushing each other, before the girl said goodnight and ascended the stairs. The boy climbed the first few stairs to his own dormitory and paused.
"Hermione?"
She'd been spotted.
Hermione turned around and saw Fred Weasley standing at the foot of the boy's staircase, a look of concern fixed on his freckly face. When he saw the tears and running make-up that marred Hermione's face, he sighed and walked over to where she was sitting, perching himself on the arm of the chair in which she resided.
"Was it Krum? D'you want me to thump him?" Hermione shook her head and smiled despite her sour mood. "Did some spotty little gremlin try it on with you?" Hermione shook her head again.
"Ron," she said in a thick voice, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "Said that by going to the ball with Viktor I was 'fraternising with the enemy'. Idiot."
"He's jealous, Hermione," Fred told her, draping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a small comforting squeeze. "Jealous of Viktor because he got to take you to the ball, and he's annoyed with himself." Hermione made a disbelieving noise and Fred explained. "Well he's always thought that you and him would get together eventually, but he never thought that anyone else would notice that Hermione Granger isn't just some swotty little Head Girl in the making – she's a good looking fourth year who'll get snapped up pretty quickly by a good looking bloke."
"Oh come off it, Fred," said Hermione, "You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?"
"Well, out of all the girls in the school, all the lovely ladies from Beauxbatons, and the...well, the ladies from Durmstrang, Krum chose you," Fred said, eliciting a small smile from Hermione before he added as an afterthought: "And Neville asked you too."
"Yes, but that's Neville, Fred."
"Fair point. I would have asked you though."
"You think I'm that gullible?" asked Hermione, a wry smile playing at her lips.
"I would!" Fred replied, his voice a little higher in pitch than normal.
"How comes you didn't, then?" Hermione challenged.
"'Cause I already heard that you'd turned down Neville."
"Well even so, that's hardly the point. It's not like I struggled to find someone to take me, it's that your brother is a Class A idiot."
"Yeah well we knew that, Hermione. The whole world knows that. Just don't let him upset you, all right? He's an immature and ugly little troll, which is just something you'll have to put up with until he's about thirty-two. Never mind though, eh? Plenty of handsome blokes out there to keep you occupied in the meantime, isn't there?" Hermione smiled, feeling a lot happier.
"Thanks Fred," she said, sending him a small smile.
"Anytime. Here, dry your eyes, mate." He conjured a tissue and handed it to her. Hermione stood up and Fred also got to his feet. "Oi," Hermione looked up at him. "C'mere," he said softly, pulling her into a hug. "Don't ever let him get to you, all right? He doesn't deserve you at the moment, so don't get upset while he's young and stupid, because you'll spend the rest of your life upset with him." Hermione laughed quietly into the soft material of Fred's dress robes and he gave her a final squeeze before letting go of her. They both moved towards the staircases that led to their dormitories.
"D'you want me to thump him?" asked Fred after a few moments' silence.
"I'll leave that up to you," Hermione answered with a small grin. "Thanks again, Fred." She began to climb the stairs but stopped and turned around when Fred called after her.
"You looked really nice tonight," he said. Hermione didn't think her smile could get much wider, but it did, and she disappeared into her dormitory.
At breakfast the next morning, Hermione didn't speak of the argument from the night before, and Ron followed her lead, passing her the toast when she asked him to politely.
"Morning," George said sleepily, taking a seat next to Harry and reaching for the plate of sausages. Fred appeared a moment later, having stopped halfway down then table to speak to Lee Jordan. He didn't not sit down next to George, however, and instead walked straight past him to where Ron was sitting, shovelling baked beans into his mouth.
Ron gave a yelp when Fred's fist collided with his upper arm and turned around to scowl at Fred. "What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his sore arm in an attempt to ease the pain inflicted by his older brother.
"For being a Class A idiot," Fred replied, taking a seat between Harry and George, opposite Hermione, who was smiling in a satisfied sort of way as she butted her toast.
Nobody else caught Fred's sly wink, and Fred was sure he saw a faint blush rising in Hermione's cheeks.
The End.