Chatting

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Chatting

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Act I: Fred and Hermione

The night air was temperate, and the mild winds around Hogwarts talkative. The stars in the cobalt sky shimmered like tiny faeries that had been enclosed for far too long, and the moon's wizened face seemed to smile upon the world below. Crickets from the long grasses around the enormous castle chirped in bliss, and the bellows of large owls rang through the wind like soft blades.

Such a wonderful night brought out many souls from the school. Even teachers who many people reckoned lived in their quarters were found under a tree, gazing at the magnificence that was their world. (Even Professor McGonagall was sitting under a tree with her shoes strewn on the grassy shoreline of the lakes.) Even old Filch was taking in the grandeur of the evening, sitting atop a small willow-wood bench.

However, even the warm atmosphere and perfect weather could not drag one very choleric girl out of her tower. The girl sat by herself in her common room, muttering ambiguous curses under her breath, wondering which one would be most appropriate to put upon a stupid prat like her best friend, Ronald Weasley.

There was only one other person who decided to stay inside the walls of the rather large school. However, this person was not there because he did not wish to venture outside. No, no, that was not the case at all. This boy was there because he was on a mission. And a very important mission at that.

Moving from his solitary spot, the person came up behind the large chair. His red hair positively shimmered in the glow of the flames from the warm Gryffindor common room fire.

"Hey Hermione," his sultry voice whispered from behind her rather soft chair.

The voice registered in the girl's mind at once. "Hello Fred."

The voice chuckled deeply. "You knew it was me instead of George. That's wicked cool. Even Ron gets us mixed up sometimes."

Hermione allowed herself to giggle. "Well, it's nice knowing who's sneaking up on you in the middle of the night these days."

"It's hardly the middle of the night, Hermione. Hardly sundown, in fact."

"You know what I mean."

"I do?"

Fred and Hermione sat in silence for a moment. Both had the exact same topic on their minds; Ron. Ron, who was Fred's younger brother, as well as the family misfit. Neither youngest nor oldest; neither twin nor school Head-boy nor school prefect. Ron also happened to be the much-denied object of Hermione's affections, and that in itself was something to talk about.

Fred cleared his throat, trying desperately to remember the things he was supposed do. "So... why is a specimen such as you doing inside on such a grand and wonderful day? You are aware that half the male population is wandering outside looking for a pretty brunette who just happens to be sitting next to me, right?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. I doubt any person out there wonders where I am, much less what I am doing."

"Ron does."

Hermione froze, a slight tinge of pink crossing her cheeks. "He should. We only had out biggest fight today. I don't know why he has such a thing against Viktor; he practically worshipped the guy before I met him. And his excuses, Fred! Ron reckons that Viktor will try and take advantage of me! Honestly! I'm not some little girl who doesn't know the difference between a nice and generous soul and some conniving idiot who only cares about one thing..."

Fred's mouth opened in protest. "...And don't you dare say anything about it, Fred Weasley! Before you got together with Angelina, you had the exact same thing on your mind!"

"For your information, that was the last thing on my mind. And besides, you of all people should know that Ron only says those things about Viktor because he cares about you. He doesn't want to see you hurt. Hermione, it hurts him when you're in trouble, and even more when you're oblivious to that."

She snorted. "Oh yes. Ron Weasley really gets hurt when I'm miserable. The only thing that suffers is probably his grades. And maybe his ego, because Harry has been siding with me lately. I'm so glad he's wisened up."

Fred suppressed a snigger. It was positively hysterical to see Hermione, the smartest girl he knew, be so oblivious to his brother's wayward affections. She was the only one; even Dumbledore, bless the man, knew very well that Ron fancied the vivacious brunette. Truth be told, about 96 percent of the student body was aware of the messages being sent that neither one seemed to receive.

After he contemplated all of this, he turned towards Hermione. "You know Hermione... he really likes you."

Hermione groaned, and threw her hands up in the air. Her eyes still held the same burning flames. "Of course he does, you git. I've been his only saving grace in about five of his classes..."

Fred leaned forward and placed his hand over her lips. "No, no Hermione. You do not understand me. I'm saying he LIKES you."

Hermione pushed his hand out of the way, and laughed. "What's to understand? I'm one of his two best friends. If he DIDN'T like me, then I'd be confused. I mean, that's what friends do, right? Like one another."

Fred once again attempted to suppress a humorous groan. "Not 'like' like that. I mean, he LIKES you. As in wants to DATE you, likes you. And don't you dare try and persuade me otherwise, because Harry as well as George and I have an on-tape confession. Of course, Ron was asleep at the time... but sleep-talking counts if I'm not very mistaken."

The bushy-haired girl gasped, both of her hands clamping over her mouth. "You mean...after all he's done...that stupid prat...why doesn't he just tell me so, instead of constantly fighting with me... when I get my hands on him...!" Hermione made two rather intimidating fists with her hands.

Fred laughed, clasping a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Haven't you ever heard that little boys love to peeve off the girl they adore? I mean, that's practically all that happens these days!"

She shrugged. "But you're so nice to Angelina... I mean, you've got to be the best boyfriend who ever lived, Fred. I've only seen you rub her the wrong way once, and I know for a fact that it was a complete accident."

"I'm the exception to many things Hermione... it's only natural that love would be one of them. Besides, I've gotten on her nerves more than once in my lifetime. Remember when I set off the Dungbomb last year? I don't reckon she was too happy about that..." Hermione chuckled in spite of herself.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Fred... are you serious when you say that Ron... likes me? I mean, really likes me? I mean, all he does it fight with me. When he had that infatuation with Fleur Delacour, he at least mentioned how pretty she was. He's never mentioned that I look nice, or that I'm really smart, or anything like that. He never compliments me, Fred, and that bothers me."

Fred thought for a moment. "Hermione, I think Ron knows how fantastic you are. To be honest, we all know how fantastic you are. And you know what? I think that bothers him. Because he's Ron Weasley. Ron, who messes up everything, never tucks in his shirts, forgets where he puts his quill, and who can't cook something without magic. Ron, who when asked what his worst nightmare is, can only think of you when you were Petrified in your second year. Ron, who feels he is not good enough for you, because you outshine him in so many realms. Ron, who loves YOU for YOU."

At this point, small tears were forming in the inside of Hermione's eyes. Her entire face was absolutely glowing with a hint of embarrassment and realization. She looked as though she could have burst with exhilaration.

"You know what?" whispered Hermione, averting Fred's wondering gaze.

"What?"

"I like him too."

Fred could have exploded with self-satisfaction.

"I suggest you tell him soon, then. I've heard there's nothing more romantic than a moonlit walk on a warm evening."

Not one to waste time, Hermione jumped up, picking the long red and yellow scarf from the edge of her chair onto her hand. Hastily, she pulled her work robes down on her body, and straightened her Gryffindor prefect badge. Running her fingers quickly through her hair, she stood up and started off towards the door.

"Oh, wait." She scuttled back to the armchair, where Fred had placed himself. Leaning over swiftly, she kissed his gently on the cheek. Fred could feel the blood rushing to his face.

"Thank you," Hermione said, blushing herself. "For everything. Angelina's really lucky to have someone like you. And I'm really blessed to be your friend."

Fred watched her race out the portrait door, eyes shining and breath obviously caught in her throat. Laughing merrily, he clutched his knees towards his chest, and stared at the raging fire in front of him.

He could only pray that Angelina was having as much luck with Ron.