A/N: Hi! This is my very first fanfic, so if I did something that wasn't really good, please don't hesitate to tell me. I know the title is a bit normal, but I really couldn't think of much else. If you have a suggestion, please tell me as well. I decided to write a Fred/Hermione fanfic that wasn't about Fred's death, because it's all so sad, and I cry every time, and because I can't really find enough funny ones out there.

I think I might add that I'm sort of stuffing OotP, HBP and DH into the rubbish bin. This is all in my imagination, and I don't really want to work around J.K. Rowling's original plot, as cowardly (in an author way) as that might seem.

OK, enough chit-chat from me, let's get into the story! If you want to, of course.

Disclaimer: None of the characters, places, or anything else belonging to the wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling. Oh, how I wish they were mine.

CHAPTER 1

Hermione startled awake. She had just had the strangest of dreams. She flipped onto her side quietly in her bed so as not to wake Ginny. She was staying at the Weasley's until she had to return to Hogwarts for her 5th year, which was in a week.

Her mind returned to her dream. Vaguely remembering that most of the content of dreams disappeared from one's memory within 5 minutes of waking up, she tried to recall it as best she can.

The dream had started with her father smiling brightly down at her.

"You ready?", he had asked. She had taken a look in the mirror, propped up in its usual position in what had seemed to be the living room of the Burrow. She was in a big, white dress with a sweetheart neckline and a ruffled, flowing skirt.

"Yes," she had replied.

Then, she was at the bottom of the aisle. She must have just arrived there, because people weren't standing up yet. And at the other end, was her bridegroom, facing the wedding minister. She had assumed, while dreaming, that it was Ron. But she had thought, part of her conscious even while asleep, that he didn't look like Ron. He was slightly shorter, and skinnier, not as muscled. And his best man, standing next to him, wasn't Harry, as she would have expected, but one of the twins.

But all that passed in a split second. She pushed it away-she was about to marry him after all-as people noticed her and stood up. Her bridegroom turned around. And it wasn't Ron.

It was Fred.

At that moment, she had woken up.

She pondered over the strangeness of the dream. It as completely random. She had a plan for her life, and it didn't include marrying Fred. As for the moment, she didn't like Fred, either. Not like like. She saw him as nothing but her best friend's older brother. She liked Ron, even if he was completely oblivious to it, and annoyed, irritated, aggravated and vexed her to no end. But she was hoping that by the end of 7th year, they would have something with each other, and maybe even marry after graduating.

She pushed it away. It was just a strange dream. Nothing to fret over. It doesn't mean she had to like Fred. Strange dreams happen all the time.

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was four-thirty in the morning. She felt thirsty. She would use aguamenti, but she wasn't allowed to use magic, so she would have to get down to the kitchen.

She quietly crawled out of bed, slipped out of the room, and tip-toed downstairs. It took her a while to get to the kitchen, since, let's face it, creeping down the Burrow's staircase quietly and quickly would be quite a feat.

She quickly took a drink, then started to make her way out of the kitchen and back to her room when...

"And what might you be doing down here at this time, my dear Hermione?"

She turned around to find one of the twins coming in through the back door.

"Fred?" she guessed. "George?" It was too dark and he was too far away for her to use the trick she learnt to distinguish them.

"Fred." he replied. "So? What mischief are you making down here?"

"None, actually." Hermione replied, trying to get pictures of him from her dream out of her head. "I was just getting some water."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Right."

"You know I'm telling the truth." Hermione said. "And what might you be doing in the garden at four-forty-five in the morning?"

"Getting up to mischief." Fred answered with a sly grin. Hermione couldn't help but notice how cute he looked when he smiled. No! You like Ron, remember?

"I would have thought as much." Hermione replied, trying to keep her cool. "I won't even ask what you're up to."

"Aww, I wanted to tell you." Fred's grin turned from sly to joking.

"No, thank you. Otherwise when you get caught, I'll be punished for knowing the plan and not stopping you."

"But you know that I'm making trouble now, so why aren't you stopping me?" Fred challenged.

"Do you want me to stop you?" Hermione fired the challenge back.

"Well, no."

"Exactly." Hermione smirked. "Well, I'm going back to bed."

"May I escort you?"

"To my bed?"

"To your room. We're on the same floor, remember?"

Hermione smiled at his antics. "Alright."

They started walking up the stairs. Hard as it was to have two people walking side-by-side up the stairs, they managed.

"So where's George?" Hermione asked. "I thought you guys do everything together."

"Upstairs, in bed, snoring his ass off." Fred answered. "We were supposed to do this together, but I couldn't wake him up, so I went alone."

"Right."

"And contrary to popular opinion, we don't do everything together." Fred commented. "We have to do separate parts of a prank separately, you know."

Hermione laughed quietly, and Fred grinned. This time, she couldn't help but notice his dimples.

They reached their landing, and stopped at the top of the stairs.

"Well, see you later." Fred said.

"Yep, when you have been caught and are being shouted at by Mrs Weasley."

"Yes, that is highly likely." Fred grimaced. Hermione laughed.

"See ya." she said, and walked back to her room. She plopped back into bed gently, as Ginny was still asleep, and smiled. She was happy for no apparent reason, and she slept well until morning.

Fred watched his brother and sister's best friend walk to her room, feeling happy for no apparent reason. He couldn't help but notice, during their conversation, how cute Hermione looked she smiled or laughed. Anyone who said she wasn't at least good-looking would be delirious, which he wouldn't put past Malfoy.

He walked back to his own room, and plopped not so quietly onto his bed, somewhat to wake up his twin brother, which failed. He actually wasn't getting up to any mischief down in the garden. He just found that he couldn't sleep earlier, and went out to the garden to get some air.

He settled for thinking about Hermione again. She was about to turn 16 soon, and he had turned 17 five months ago. That means they're only around one year and a half apart. That's not too bad.

Why am I thinking about this?, he thought, realising that it was a strange thing to think of. Why would I think about Hermione's age? Unless I want to take her out or something, so I'm wondering if the age difference would be okay. He smiled at the, to him, ridiculousness of the thought. Which is ridiculous, because I'm not thinking of going out with her. She obviously likes Ron, for Merlin's sake, and Ron like her back. Even though he pisses her off half the time. He chuckled. He lied back down and went back to sleep.

A/N: I tried to include some humour into this, but I don't know if I succeeded. I'll try to include some more George in later chapters,too. Please review and let me know what you think. If nobody likes this then I might not continue it. Anyway, I'll give it a while and see how it goes. Okay, bye!