Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. This fact will not make me cry. It won't. It won't. It - *sob!*

Note: Set during Hermione's 3rd year, takes place soon after the Winter Holidays.

Fred watched Hermione from a distance. He had for a while. Sometimes he felt like a creepy stalker, but if she ever found out, he really hoped she just thought he was sweet... Nah. she probably wouldn't. Therefore, he never planned to tell her. After all, she had Ron and Harry.

She was bound to end up with one of them, Fred told himself firmly.

So he just watched. He watched as she grew more tired, and more worried, and more frazzled by the day. A few times he caught her in a mistake, and after a bit of research, he knew what was going on. He knew what she was doing to get to all of her classes.

Ron and Harry weren't making it easy on her. They still expected her to practically do their homework for them, and talk about what they wanted to talk about - just quidditch, mostly.

Fred loved playing Quidditch. He also loved watching it. He did not, however, know how anybody could stand talking about it for more than an hour, as Ron and Harry did. Honestly, how annoying could they get?

Then came Christmas. When Fred returned to Hogwarts, he found that Ron and Harry had completely left Hermione by herself. They had decided to throw away two years of friendship because of a stupid broom.

Fred wanted to kick their sorry butts, but he held in his temper.

One week passed, and Hermione was terribly, achingly, miserable.

Fred took a deep breath and finally decided to do something about it.

Hermione's mouth hung open as Fred dragged her outside.

"Look! It's a lovely day!" He insisted. "We're going to have some fun!"

"But I have to study," she protested.

"I'm sure you can make some time for this," Fred said, his eyes flashing as he emphasized one word.

Hermione froze.

"i'm not stupid, Hermione," he told her quietly. "I've wondered how you've managed to get to two classes at the same time - seeing two of you in November kinda cemented my suspicions. There's two ways you could be doing it, and I seriously doubt you can make clones of yourself. I mean, that's some very complex magic."

"Who - who else knows?" she whispered after a moment.

"George," Fred shrugged. "I don't keep anything from him. But he's not gonna tell. I won't either. But really, I've got to say something. You travel back to attend all your classes, but you never do it for extra sleep. Seriously, you need more sleep. Every day you look more and more like a zombie."

Hermione went from scared to relieved to curious to upset to furious.

"A zombie?"

"A very cute one," Fred amended quickly (it was true). "So, are we going to build a snowwitch or what?"

"A snow witch?"

"Yes. We can give it long hair from grasses, a pointy hat, and even make it some breasts. What do you think?"

Hermione giggled.

Fred grinned; he hadn't heard her sound like that in months.

"All right then."

So they began building. After not too long, they had a lovely snow witch.

"I think her breasts are uneven," Hermione stated with a grin.

"Most are," Fred shrugged. "My mum's left one -"

"Fred!"

"What?" He said innocently. "I don't blame her. Apparently Ronald favored the the left side when he was breast-feeding. It's never been the same since."

"I so didn't need to know that," Hermione shuddered, and not from the cold. "Please never talk about your mother's breasts ever again. Or Ronald, for that matter."

"Okay," Fred said cheerfully as he chipped off a bit of snow from the snow witch's left breast. "That's better. Not as perky as yours, of course - "

"Mine?" Hermione's face heated up. "Fred! You've lost all talking privileges."

With that statement, she stepped up to him and shoved a handful of snow down his front collar.

"Ahh! Ow! Oh!" Fred cried as he tried to get it out. He only partially succeeded, and growled at Hermione.

"Payback," he breathed, and pounced. Hermione was instantly pinned to the ground in the snow, shocked and quite under his power.

"No, no," she giggled as he flung little bits of snow across her face and neck.

"Yes, yes, yes," Fred told her seriously as he dotted her nose with snow.

"It's cold," Hermione gasped and shivered.

"That would be why it's snow," he teased, and placed a hand on her cheek. "Ah, you''re still warm enough."

Then he was flung onto his back and treated to a handful of snow to the face. Fred spluttered and hurried to sit up and form a snowball.

Hermione had already run to take cover behind a tree. She was quickly working to produce her own snowballs.

"This is war!" Fred bellowed. Hermione just giggled and threw the first shot.

The battle commenced.

Both sides were soon thoroughly soaked and cold.

Hermione couldn't stop laughing, even when hit in the head with a snow ball. Fred beamed as she nailed him with one to the nose, because he had accomplished his purpose.

He had made her happy.

"Truce!" Fred finally panted.

Hermione thought about it.

"You just say that 'cause I have more snow piled up."

"Maybe, but if we don't go in soon, we'll both die of pneumonia," Fred pointed out.

"i suppose," Hermione sighed, and walked over to him. "No tricks, now!"

"None whatsoever," Fred grinned.

It was still snowing, and Hermione's hair was sprinkled with snow. Her eyelashes were heavy with snowflakes, and she was looking at him with those big brown eyes...

"No tricks," Fred repeated softly, and reached to touch her hair.

Hermione watched him, and her red lips parted slightly, invitingly.

Fred just couldn't help but kiss her.

Feeling utterly relaxed and sinfully happy, Hermione couldn't help but kiss him right back.

Together they had found the perfect way to warm up.