Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

Chapter One - Flying

Fred hopped over the garden gate, landing quietly on the grass. He made his way toward the forest near the house, whistling as he went. The sun was just rising behind the hills to the west of the Burrow. Not even George got up this early in the morning. Fred enjoyed the quiet of the early morning, and stopped whistling as he entered the forest.

He strode eagerly through the trees, following the natural path he had created from years of traversing it. At a large oak, Fred turned and ducked under some branches.

There it was, he thought happily. A stream bubbled happily before him, its clear water sparkling in the faint light from above.

But there, in the grass under his favorite oak, in his favorite thinking spot, was a girl. She lay sleeping on the grass, one arm stretched out, the other curled over her belly.

Bare feet led up to shapely legs, and a dark blue cotton dress with spaghetti straps.

The wood nymph – she was certainly as wild and beautiful as one – slept with a peaceful smile on her face. Her wild brown hair framed her head perfectly. Fred stared at the girl - no, young woman - in astonishment.

How the bloody hell did Hermione Granger find his spot? And why did she always hide those legs under loose robes? It should be illegal to not show off curves like that...

Fred shook his head quickly. This was Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, and his little brother's best friend, other than Harry Potter – and he most certainly shouldn't be thinking about her this way! She was only fourteen - although, now that he thought about it, Fred remembered Hermione had a September birthday, and would be fifteen in only a month.

Pushing that happy thought from his mind, Fred was surprised his own mind couldn't come up with any more objections to looking at Hermione like that.

Because there she was, just lying there, so relaxed and beautiful in her sleep. All her worries gone and barriers down, just smiling like there was nothing that could please her more than sleeping right there, right then.

Unable to take his eyes off the sleeping girl, Fred quietly sat down on the grass beside her.

For a while he just watched her, and then he grew braver. He reached out carefully and took a few locks of her hair in his hand. It was much softer than anyone would have guessed, and curled just perfectly around his fingers. As Fred played her hair, Hermione stirred slightly.

Fred quickly jumped back, dropping the hair and moving a few feet away.

She could vaguely sense someone stroking her hair. But it wasn't Ginny, she suddenly thought. She was outside, in the forest, by the stream... Was someone with her?

With a soft moan, Hermione stretched her limbs. Finally, she opened her eyes, and spotted a familiar person only a few feet away.

"Hey Fred," Hermione said happily, inwardly surprised. Had he really been stroking her hair, she wondered? From the way he looked anywhere but her, it seemed likely.

"Hey yourself," he responded. "Sleep well?'"

"Very well. It's quite comfortable out here," Hermione slowly sat up, tucking her knees up to her chest.

"I know," Fred said, finally looking over at her, with an amused expression. "I always come here in the mornings. I'm surprised you managed to find it on your second day here."

"Oh, it's your spot?" Hermione said quickly. "I'm sorry - I didn't -"

"Don't worry," Fred interrupted with a laugh. 'I suppose I've got to learn to share sometime.'

"Yes, that'd be a welcome change," Hermione said solemnly. It was only when she smiled, her white teeth shining brightly, that Fred realized she was teasing him.

"How'd you know I was Fred?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione flushed slightly under his scrutiny.

"Your smile's different," she admitted. "And you have this freckle right next to your right eye, but George doesn't. Oh, and your voice is much different."

Fred stared at her.

"I'm impressed," he said finally. "None of the family, even Mum, can tell us apart."

"I notice things," she said with a shy smile.

"I've noticed," Fred quipped, and glanced back at the stream. "When did you get here?"

"Oh... Last night when the rest of you were playing Quidditch, I went for a walk and found it. This morning I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep, so I came back here and fell asleep again," Hermione said, running her hand through the grass.

Fred nodded in understanding.

"You should really play Quidditch with us sometime."

"No!" Hermione cried. "I mean... no thanks. I don't like heights so much.'"

"That's too bad," Fred said, nodding slowly. "It took me a while to learn to fly – the rest of my siblings took to it much more naturally than me. I was pretty worried for a while because I didn't feel like I had enough control over my broom. But over time, it got easier, and I got a lot more confident – just in time to try out for Beater, and knock the socks off of everyone else."

Hermione nodded, glad that Fred understood how she felt.

"I bet you'd be brilliant at Quidditch if you gave it a chance," Fred said quietly.

"You do?" Shock was evident on her face.

"Yeah," Fred smiled. "With your brains, you'd come up with the best strategies and game plans. I bet you'd be better than Oliver."

Hermione blushed.

"Thanks."

"How many times have you flown?"

"Only a few times in first year. I never learned how to do it properly," Hermione admitted very quietly.

"Hey!" Fred cried suddenly. "I could teach you to fly!"

Hermione gaped at him.

"Helping you overcome your fear and all that... What do you say?"

"I don't know," Hermione sounded very unsure.

Fred clambered to his feet and offered her a hand. After a moment's hesitation, Hermione took it and let him pull her up to stand with him.

"Look, you can ride with me on my Cleansweep," Fred said easily. "We can go as slow as you want. I'll behave - no pranks, I promise. Fly with me... Please?"

His hopeful smile and sparkling eyes undid her.

"All right," Hermione agreed softly. Fred whooped happily.

Fred brought her to a field after he collected his Cleansweep from the broom shed.

"No one from the house can see us from here," Fred told her. "And none of them will be up for hours yet."

Hermione looked around as Fred continued to speak.

"This is a good place for flying. It's a large, open area - and there's no muggles for several miles."

"What about over there?' Hermione asked with a frown as she pointed to a cottage a few hills over.

"Oh, the Lovegoods live there. A wizard and his daughter, who's in Ginny's year, Ravenclaw, I think. They were best friends growing up," Fred reported. "There's a few other wizarding families nearby - the Diggorys and the Fawcetts and some new folk... I don't remember their names."

Fred sat on his broomstick, and beckoned to Hermione.

"Just hop on," Fred smiled. "I'll be right behind you."

Trembling, Hermione swung a leg over the broom and gripped the handle tightly in both hands. Fred reached a hand around her and put it gently on her hands.

"Just relax," Fred said gently. "A broomstick does what you want - and if you don't really want to fly, it won't." He scooted up on the broomstick, his chest against her back. His hands moved to hold her waist firmly, and Hermione tried to suppress a shiver.

Fred grinned silently as he pressed up against her, feeling her shiver. He knew it wasn't because of the cold, indeed, she was very warm. From here, he could properly smell her hair – she smelled like cinnamon and lilies.

Would she taste as good as she smells? Fred wondered silently, and fought the urge to kiss his way across her neck.

"Don't you want to fly?" He asked her, his lips by her neck.

His rough voice sent shivers down her spine, and his hot breath on her neck made her whole body grow warm. Trying to ignore the strange feelings he inspired in her, Hermione stood up straight, loosened her grip on the broom handle, and kicked off, willing the broom to fly. They shot off of the ground, rising quickly, and Fred held her even closer, it that was possible.

When Hermione looked down, the ground seemed very far away. She gasped and tensed up, closing her eyes in fright.

"Hey," Fred said soothingly. "You're not going to fall. I promise."

She opened her eyes and looked ahead.

You can do this, Hermione told herself. Fred's right here, so what do you have to be scared of? She started off slowly, making large, controlled circles in the air, her confidence rising with each lap she made.

Leaning forward, Hermione accelerated over the trees. Faster and faster, they climbed up hundreds of feet into the sky before dropping slowly.

"This is fun," Hermione cried, and was rewarded with a deep laugh from Fred.

"Good! You're doing great," he responded, his mouth right by her ear. Hermione blushed from the compliment and his closeness to her, and was glad he couldn't see her reaction.

When she felt she had learned the basics, Hermione was ready to try something new. Without any hesitation or fear, she turned sharply downwards into a dive.

It gave her a thrill to fall almost to the ground, turning back up ten feet before impact.

"Hermione," Fred gasped. "Be careful!"

"I am," she giggled, and dived again, full of exhilaration, all fear erased from her mind. Fred had been right - flying was amazing. Up here, with the wind blowing in her face, Hermione felt completely free.

This time, she sped up as she flew almost straight downwards, and was rewarded by Fred grasping her waist more tightly in his hands.

"Hermione! Pull up!"

Only a few feet from the ground, Hermione jerked the broom upwards. They jolted back up a bit, avoiding the ground by only a foot, and Hermione laughed giddily.

But then, suddenly, the old broomstick turned unexpectedly to the side, and they both went tumbling off. They had only been a few feet from the ground, so it didn't hurt much, but they were sent rolling down a hill.

Hermione had turned to face Fred somehow, and he curled his arms around her protectively as she buried her face in his chest and they rolled down the grass.

When they finally lost their momentum, they lay, breathing hard and laughing, in a patch of flowers.

Fred was winded and amazed. The studious bookworm had a wild side. Not even he had ever tried a dive as daring as the one she had made.

He suddenly stopped laughing when he realized that she was lying on top of him.

She looks so beautiful when she laughs, Fred thought in wonder, and then their eyes met.

Hermione stopped laughing as she realized she was lying on top of Fred.

"Oops," she giggled, and he grinned up at her.

Maybe it was the shock of the fall, or the adrenaline from flying. Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze, or the way his arms felt around her.

Hermione leaned forward and brushed her lips to his.

Fred didn't hesitate to kiss her back, reveling in the softness of her lips. He slipped a hand up to caress her cheek as he tasted her thoroughly. None of his dreams of kissing Hermione had done her justice, Fred thought as he explored the depths of her mouth.

Hermione gasped into his mouth as she responded fervently to his ministrations. She had always expected her first kiss to be something chaste and delicate - this was nothing but that. Fred Weasley was passionate about everything he did, and Hermione was incredibly grateful for it. She could feel the heat between them, felt her body heating up in ways it never had before, and felt simultaneously weak and strong in his arms.

He knew if he didn't stop he wouldn't be able to breathe, but in all honesty, that was the least of his worries at the moment. She solved his dilemma when she was the one to pull away, albeit reluctantly.

They both took deep breaths, gazing into each other's eyes. She stared down at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed.

Fred grinned wickedly and flipped them over, pinning Hermione beneath him on the grass. She gasped, her lips forming a delightful little 'o.'

Not able to resist her soft little mouth, Fred kissed her roughly, enjoying the way their tongues clashed together. She clung to his shirt and pressed herself up against him, making him growl and bite her lip gently before reclaiming her mouth.

When they separated some time later, he held her hand firmly in his, and looked over at her in silent wonder. Hermione's hair was even messier than usual, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

"I love flying with you," she said breathlessly.

"And kissing?" Fred added hopefully.

"I meant both, you silly," she giggled.

Suddenly, worry flitted across her face.

Fred quickly slipped a finger onto her lips, knowing what was coming.

"No thinking," he told her softly. "Hermione, you're beautiful, kind, intelligent - and a bloody good kisser at that. I have one question for you, and all you have to say is yes or no.'

Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Fred asked her quietly. "You'd have to put up with my pranks, and I'd have to drag you away from your books sometimes, but we could go flying together and go on picnics and just talk – huh?" She had said something, but he hadn't heard her.

"I already said yes," Hermione smiled brilliantly. "Now hush. I haven't finished with you yet."

She pulled him fiercely to her and resumed snogging Fred Weasley.