These characters belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling, so obviously, they're not mine being as I am the one and only Sneezy Mouse.

:*: 1 – Fred's Rambles :*:

It was just your average August day. Sunny, no clouds, warm… there are more adjectives to describe the day, but I don't really care to say them all because, well, that would be boring.

Anyways, my point was that it was a normal day. More or less. I say more or less because, well… Ah, never mind. I, as usual, am rambling and making no sense and no one will want to continue reading this so I'd better just

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All right.

Let's try that again.

Hello. My name is Fred Weasley. At the present time I am nearing my twentieth birthday, but when the story I am trying to tell takes place, I was eighteen. Whoa. This story was two years ago. How insane is that?

I have five brothers, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George (my twin), and Ron. Plus my little sister, Ginny. My parents are Arthur and Molly Weasley and I (used to) live in Ottery St. Catchpole.

I have red hair, brown eyes and am very muscular due to my many years as a Quidditch Beater.

Now, all of that was quite boring I'm betting. You're not reading this to learn about me. You want the story I'm trying to tell.

Well to bad. You're forced to listen to my ramble. If you don't like it, then stop reading.

JUST KIDDING! Keep reading please. If no one reads this, then all this work was in vein.

(I won't start over… I won't start over…)

Okay! Enough of the "Getting to Know Fred Weasley" because I'm not that exciting. How about I just tell the story? I'll try not to be clichéd, but sometimes, it just doesn't work that way.

So, as stated before: Warm, sunny, no clouds, blah, blah, blah.

School had ended two months ago. And I mean ended. Never again would I have to walk into the doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry again… as a student, at least.

So if I had just graduated Hogwarts, my brother Ron and his two best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, would have just ended their fifth year. They were fifteen, I was eighteen.

I swear, all this age stuff makes sense later.

And since August was now upon us, that meant that Ron's aforementioned friends would be coming to stay with us.

Now, you all probably know the fascinating tale that is Harry Potter. I mean, he is The Boy Who Lived. When he was one, he defeated the most evil wizard ever to have existed. He did again when he was eleven… and twelve… escaped him when he was fourteen… and fifteen (escaped, that is).

Personally, You Know Who should just give up. They say "Third time's the charm," but he's had a third time… and a fourth time… and then a fifth time. If you can't kill someone after five times, just give it up already.

Harry's like a cockroach in that matter. He just won't die.

But of course, that's a good thing. Harry's a great guy (he should be, he's dating my sister) and I'd be tremendously upset if something happened to him again.

Whoa. Big tangent. Ron's friends were coming. That's where I was. I was talking about Harry because normally, he'd've arrived already, but due to heightened security measures, he had to wait until the Ministry of Magic placed special Protection Charms around us and him.

But the Charms were placed, and Harry and Hermione were due to arrive any day now. Personally, I couldn't care less. I mean, hooray, Ron's friends were coming to visit. I enjoyed having them around and all, but it wasn't a big deal for me… Yet.

The only thing Harry and Hermione meant to me (and my brother George for that matter) was two more people that weren't used to our joke products. Test subjects, they were thought of.

Now, enough basic information. From the beginning. Here we go…

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"Fred! Fred! Wake up! They're here!"

I groaned and rolled over.

Ron, in turn, ripped open my curtains, showering my bed with sunlight.

Really freaking bright sunlight,

"What the hell do you want, Ron?" I asked as I placed a pillow over my eyes.

"Shut the curtains," George groaned from his bed.

"Harry and Hermione just arrived!" Ron said. "Well? Come down and say hello!"

"I think I might just say hello to some more sleep," I grumbled.

"What's the big deal, Ron?" George asked. "Why so excited this summer?"

"Because I was afraid Dumbledore might not let Harry come," Ron answered. "But he did! And they're here!"

Against my better judgment, I threw my pillow at him. Ron left.

I tried falling back asleep again,. But without the pillow, I couldn't. And when I heard Ginny's squeal of happiness as she undoubtedly saw Harry, I decided to just give in to consciousness and wake up.

I changed out of my pajamas and threw on a baggy pair of jeans and an old grey t-shirt and shuffled downstairs.

"Hey," I mumbled, halfheartedly waving at Harry and Hermione, not looking at them.

I continued over to the counter where I whipped up a challenging bowl o cereal. I know. I'm an excellently complex cook.

"Hey, Fred," I heard Harry say.

"Hello, Fred," Hermione chirped. I shuddered. How could someone be so perky in the morning, I remember thinking.

I halfheartedly waved again, beginning to scarf down my delicious cereal as I looked out the window.

It was the perfect day to play Quidditch. It'd been raining horribly for the past few weeks and whenever it wasn't raining, it was all windy. Today was going to be the day I played Quidditch.

I slurped down the leftover milk in my bowl, waved in the direction of what I hoped was the table and headed upstairs to get my broom.

It was doubly exciting that I got to play Quidditch, because I had acquired a used, but still in excellent condition, Nimbus 2001. Yeah, not the most current broom, but it flew fast and smoothly, so I was happy.

I grabbed the broom, my Beater stick, and my bucket I collected apples, rocks and anything else that could be used as a Bludger. I then poked George with my broom and left the room, headed back downstairs, and jumped on my broom.

Harry had described, or tried to at least, how it felt the first time he had ridden the Nimbus, but I finally felt like I knew.

Sure, it was five years old, but it still flew in the manner Harry had described: like it knew what you were thinking. I wanted to turn left, I'd barely nudge my hand and it would fly left. It was amazing.

I don't know how long I was up there flying. I had gone through at least five buckets full of "Bludgers" and I had spent about an hour just cruising through the air. Finally, I heard someone call my name, snapping me out of my riding euphoria.

"Fred! How's it flying?" he yelled.

I squinted and saw a small reflection of light on glasses. It was Harry.

"Harry!" I yelled, coasting down onto the ground. "The Nimbus still rides like you first said it did."

"Good," he replied. "Too bad we didn't have you on a Nimbus last year."

"Yeah," I answered, looking back up into the sky. "Think about how badly we would've beaten Slytherin if I had been."

"I don't think Slytherin could've handled an even worse lost than last year."

"590 to ten. I'd say Malfoy probably would've cried if it'd been worse than that."

"You mean harder than he actually did?"

Harry laughed.

"I'm going to miss the old team," Harry said. "It was bad enough without Wood, Angelina and Katie. But now, with you, George, and Alicia now gone… It's going to be hard to get used to."

"You're the new captain," I replied. "It'll be fine. Who've you been thinking of asking to try out?"

"There are a few third years I think are built for Beaters. But I've got my eye on a second year for Chaser," Harry said. "I was watching her during a flying lesson, you know, to scope out new player, and she was speedy. Like flying came natural to her."

"I'll try to come by for a few games. Maybe give the new Beaters some tips?"

"That would be great."

We talked Quidditch for a bit more before Mum yelled that it was lunch time.

At this point I feel the need to address the fact that, yes, I do still live with my Mum, and no, I am not embarrassed about it. I've only just graduated and I am unemployed, so I have no other choice.

Anyways, Harry and I walked from the backyard back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Mum placed a plate with two sandwiches and a heaping pile of salad in front of me and I dove in. I like eating. Can you tell?

So I ate my sandwiches and started on the one's Mum made for George (he was still sleeping, the lazy bum) when I finally saw her.

I wish I could say she made some dramatic changes over the past two months, but there was nothing different.

Her hair was still bushy (though a little more tamed. Teenage vanity had started to kick in, I guess) and in a messy, bushy bun. Her brown eyes seemed to pop out of her face (I detected some Muggle make-up for that effect. My suspicions were later confirmed), and she still had that air of brainiac-ness about her.

But there was something different. Maybe because I didn't have to worry about her Prefect powers taking points away from me for screwing around, or maybe it was the fact that she was laughing happily at something Ginny had said.

In reality, it was probably the tight Muggle jeans (flares? I think they're called) and a tight but loose blue tank top with a fairly low cut neckline. I think that was what originally caught my attention, but then I saw the smiling and all of that and that's what snagged my full attention.

And then I realized fully who I was ogling.

This was Hermione Granger. Hermione "Know-It-All" Granger. The girl who had taken away numerous points from George and I.

I couldn't believe it. There was nothing spectacularly different about her. She hadn't turned into some hot supermodel-type person. She was basically the same old Hermione.

"Hello, Fred," she said happily as she sat down at the table. Right across from me. "Glad to see you're finally awake."

"Yeah," was all I managed to say before busying myself with eating George's food.

"What're doing? That's my sandwich!" George yelled from the staircase.

"You snooze, you lose," I said, smiling, as I took a large bite of his sandwich. "Mmmm…" I added happily, patting my stomach like it was the best lunch I'd ever had.

George glared at me as he sat down next to me and began to poke at his lonely pile of lettuce.

"Stupid lettuce," he mumbled.

"So," Mum said. "What've you kids got planned for the day?"

"Quidditch," George, Harry, Ron and I all said in unison.

Hermione muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like, "Boys."

"What about you, Hermione, dear?" Mum asked.

"I was thinking about reading some of my new course books," Hermione said. Same old Hermione, I thought.

Ron snickered loudly.

"My parents took me school shopping for my books and such before I came here," Hermione said, staring pointedly at Ron. "And I picked up a few extras that sounded fascinating."

Ron snickered even louder at this. I unconsciously felt the need to punch him.

I decided that these… odd feelings I had towards Hermione was nothing. I was eighteen, for God's Sake. She was a girl, I was a guy. Nothing odd about that. She was still just the same old Hermione Granger.

I just hadn't realized that I wasn't the same old Fred Weasley.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP… Holy Moses, Batman! The "Clichéd Ending Alarm" is going off!

So what do you think? I love reading the Fred/George and Hermione fics (as in, Fred and Hermione OR George and Hermione) and decided to give one a go. If it sucks terribly, let me know and I'll put this out of its misery.

As always, review, flame or whatever. Personally, I love reviews no matter how critical or whatnot they are. And don't hesitate to give me ideas on how I could improve.