A happy belated birthday to accioweasleys4 (or Colleen as we call her on the KBOW)!
I wrote her Fremione. Not exactly new but hey.
Hormones
"I guess you could say such a thing, if you were going for the whole: 'sound like a bastard but love her from within' thing." Fred reasoned, looking at his twin for confirmation. "But then again-"
"Bloody hell mate!" George groaned for the umpteenth time. "She's just a girl. As long as you don't insult any House Elves while you're around her then it. Will. All. Be. Fine."
"Was getting Angelina to go to Hogsmede this hard?" Fred lamented, whacking his head against a wall a few times.
"If I remember rightly," George sighed. "Then you were asked by her."
It was the thirteenth of February, and the Gryffindor Common Room was in high spirits. Someone (most likely Lee, knowing how much it would annoy everyone) had hung huge, luminous pink decorations from the walls that played romantic songs whenever you walked by.
Normally the Weasley Twins would be planning a confetti-related prank to get their own back or they'd be in a broom closet with a lucky - female - member of the Hogwarts family come Valentine's Eve.
However there was a girl with bushy brown hair on the other side of the room that had garnered their attention. Her head was bent over a large tome that was resting in her hands, obscuring her features from view.
Hermione Granger was no ordinary witch. She wouldn't be lured to the broom closet as easily as, say, Dolly Midfield from Hufflepuff. But Fred liked a challenge.
"Say," He began, stretching his arms out. "You reckon Granger's ever had a snog? Like a real one?"
"You may want to start by referring to the maiden as 'Hermione'." George said dryly, before adding: "Are you forgetting about Krum?"
"Dumb Krum." Fred waved a hand. "I think that was all a show. It was really Ron in that dress at the Yule Ball."
George sniggered. "That would have been one for the family photo album!" He said brightly, as both twins watched Hermione look up, and slip the book into her bag.
She then stood up, and picked a singing-free route through the crowds of Gryffindors, heading straight for the portrait hole.
"Now's your chance!" George gestured to Hermione. "Go after her, woo her, shag-"
"What are you two gossiping about?" Angelina asked, walking over from her group of friends with a quizzical expression on her face.
"Nothing Angie!"
oOo
Hermione shook those thoughts out of her head, adjusting the pile of books that were in her arms.
Were his muscles as big under his shirt as they appeared to be?
After all, I seem to have a thing for Quidditch players...
SHUT UP! SHUT UP BRAIN!
...did he have freckles everywhere?
Hermione prided herself on being logical, and the slightly more-than-friendly feelings that she felt towards the object of her thoughts went against the grain entirely.
Hormones, that is what Hermione blamed. She blamed hormones for the funny little squiggly feeling in her stomach whenever she saw him, she blamed hormones for the blush that rose to her face when she imagined his arms encircling her rather than his broomstick.
Doesn't mean that hormones are to blame for the dreams.
"Talking to yourself Hermione?"
Hermione jumped, spilling her books over the corridor and spinning backwards into a suit of armour. "I'm so sorry!" She blurted out, dropping to her knees to gather the books up again.
"Woah, it's okay." Her attacker said, with a chuckle.
Hermione paused in her tracks, and slowly looked up.
Merlin's tits, why did it have to be Fred 'Shag-Me-Now' Weasley of all people?
"Oh." Hermione let out a shaky breath. "Hi Fred."
"Hey 'Mione." Fred smirked, turning Hermione's legs to jelly. Normally she hated that nickname, but hearing it from him made her smile like a dope.
Stop wanting to cast Aguamenti stop it stop it STOP IT!
"You alright?" Fred continued, taking the books from Hermione's limp grasp and giving her a hand back up. "Er, hello? Earth to Hermione? Hermione come in?"
"I'm fine!" She squeaked, going bright red under his scrutinous gaze. "I just need... Chicken! Yes! I need Chicken!"
"And why would you want chicken when you can have me?" Fred winked, and Hermione had to swallow hard to keep herself from possibly moaning.
"A-and why would you s-say that?"
Yes, very clever, you're known as the smartest witch of your age and all you can do is stutter in the face of possibly the sexiest guy in the whole of-
"So 'Mione." Fred added. "Any plans for tomorrow?"
"Just a date with a reporter and a few books." Hermione sighed, running a hand through her frizzy hair. "What about you?"
A normal conversation. Well done. Just keep breathing in, out, in, out...
"I was hoping that you would be free tomorrow."
Typic- what?
"You're asking me?" If Hermione had been holding her books, she would have dropped them again. "Me?!"
"I take it that's a yes." Fred grinned in response.
Hermione physically couldn't argue her case as Fred passed her the books again and winked.
"See ya tomorrow then 'Mione!" He yelled, sprinting back off down the corridor.