A/N: Before I begin, I would like to start off by saying that this is a Muggle AU which takes place in college. I'm American so I'm more familiar with our college system but I know in the UK, it's fairly different. Like, I don't think Fred and Hermione would ever be in the same class together if they had different majors, but in (most) American colleges, there's a good chance. I don't mention it in the story but Fred is a marketing major and Hermione is a criminal justice major.

This may sound weird but this fic is based off of American universities BUT it takes place in England! Hopefully that's not too weird/confusing, haha.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Harry Potter.

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Today was not Hermione Granger's day.

First, the poor girl - who had already stayed up most of the night writing a paper - slept through her alarm clock, causing her to wake up with only a mere ten minutes before the 9am class started. Hermione hardly ever swore but that morning, she could have made a sailor blush with her language. Lucky for her, she arrived at the class with a minute to spare.

Then, she had completely forgotten that there was an exam in her psychology class later that day. Sure, she knew the material, but she hadn't properly studied like usual and it was of her more difficult classes. So during her break for lunch, Hermione poured over her textbook and lecture notes, cramming in as much information as possible. By the time she had finished, it was already time to head to her next class. All throughout the exam, her stomach growled furiously, causing many of her classmates to divert their attention from their test to her. One red-haired boy looked particularly amused and Hermione's cheeks blushed red from embarrassment.

After her psychology class ended, Hermione was relieved that she only had one more class and it was in half an hour; she had time to grab a quick bite to eat from the food court. However, when she fished around in her backpack to pull out her wallet, she only found disappointment: her wallet was not in the bag. Hermione suddenly recalled setting it down on the counter after paying for her Chinese takeout the previous night.

Hermione had one last hope: her pockets. She dug around her coat but found nothing; when all hope felt lost, however, she discovered a good amount of change in the pocket of her jeans. Not wasting anymore time, Hermione bolted to the nearest vending machines. She spotted a bag of crisps that looked especially tasty, placed the change in the slot, and made her selection.

The crisps fell and Hermione gave a squeal of excitement; this food would be her salvation. The young woman reached into the bottom slot to fetch her crisps...

... and couldn't pull them out.

Actually, she couldn't even pull her own hand out. The flap had somehow gotten jammed and had trapped Hermione's hand, along with her only chance for food, within the machine.

"No..." Hermione murmured, feeling utterly defeated. She banged her head a few times against the glass before slumping over. "This cannot be happening."

She desperately looked all around her, hoping to catch someone to give her aid. Unfortunately, it was at a time when most students were in a class. Hermione felt alone.

"I give up!" cried Hermione. "Whatever is doing this to me, fine... you win! I give up!"

"Really? What do I win?"

Hermione's head tilted up and she saw the same red-haired boy from her class before, leaning against the machine with his arms folded, towering over her. He looked just as amused as he did earlier when her stomach was growling.

"Oh, it's you," muttered Hermione.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione sighed in an exasperated manner. "Look, I'm really not in the mood right now. I've had a long day and all I want is to eat."

He chuckled and said, "So I heard. Your stomach as quite the vocal range."

Why does he need to make fun of me? Can't he see I'm already embarrasses enough as it is? Tears began threatening to spill over and Hermione quickly blinked them away, not wanting him to see her upset over something so petty.

But her classmate still noticed. Shifting into a softer expression, he knelt down next to her so they were on the same level. "Hey, no need to fret about this. I can get you out of this mess, though we may need to amputate your hand if we want to save the crisps..."

Despite feeling horrible, Hermione allowed herself to laugh a little. "Well, if it means I get to eat the crisps, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

The boy genuinely smiled, obviously pleased that he got the poor girl to relax a little. "Great! However, I left my saw at home... maybe I could just try working the flap?"

"Oh, have it your way then..."

As the ginger-haired boy stuck his hands in the machine, he turned to her and said, "I guess I could introduce myself. I'm Fred... Fred Weasley."

"I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you, Fred," Hermione said, smiling for the first time that day.

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Fred had been tugging and pulling on the flap that entrapped Hermione's hand for what seemed like ages. After a while, Hermione heard a faint clicking noise from the machine.

"Uh oh," came Fred's voice.

"What?"

Fred turned to face her with a sheepish grin. "How mad would you be if I said my hand just got stuck, too?"

"What?!"

Suddenly, Hermione's hand was freed from the machine and so were the crisps. She turned to face Fred, who held both of his hands up for her to see. "Just a bit of a joke. Sorry, I couldn't resist."

Hermione rolled her eyes while massaging her wrist. She guessed her class had already started and didn't feel like walking in late with everyone gawking at her.

"Thank you, Fred. I was having a bit of a rough day and not only did you help me, a complete stranger, but you made me laugh while doing it. The world needs more guys like you."

Fred's cheeks instantly went as red as his hair; rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "Well, you're not a total stranger. I've seen you in class. In fact, I've always wanted to talk to you... just never plucked up the courage to do so."

Now Fred wasn't the only one blushing. "Really? You could've talked to me, I swear I don't bite."

Suddenly, Fred's smile transformed into a cheeky grin. "Now, since I did you a favor, it would only be courteous for you to repay me."

Hermione became anxious. "What could you possibly want me to do?"

"Can I buy you a proper dinner sometime? It would be a shame to see you get your hand stuck in a vending machine again, especially if I'm not the one who gets to come help you."

With a bright smile, Hermione replied, "I would love that very much."

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A/N: I was inspired to write this after I saw a writing prompt about a character getting their hand stuck in a vending machine, also adding my own personal issues into this fic. We've all had our days when nothing seems to go our way, and that's been the past few days for me. Wouldn't it really make things better to have Fred Weasley help you through it? :)

This is not my first fic but it is the first Fremione fic I've written. Let me know what you think!

BTW, I tried using as many British terms as I can remember, though they may not be 100%. I lived in Scotland briefly so I know some slang but not a lot!