Fic: Practical Kissing
Title: Practical Kissing
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Summery: Fred plays a joke on Hermione
Warnings: None
Rating: G- fun fluffy goodness
Words: 1,192
“I did it. It was me. I confess.” Hermione startled at the sound of the voice before turning to see an unrepentant looking twin standing in her doorway. She frowned, and turned back towards the room, which was now coated in at least two inches of feathers. Her hands went to her hips as she tried to quell the anger growing inside. She tried taking a deep breath. She tried to close her eyes. She tried counting to 10, and then to 20. Finally, after she felt she had at least a bit of a reign on her anger, she turned back towards the grinning twin. She already figured it had been Fred, so the confession was pointless.
“And just who do you expect to clean this mess?” Her hands were still on her hips, but they had clenched into fists as her lips tightened out into a thin line. Fred watched her with a grin, wondering if she knew just how beautiful she looked when her eyes blazed like that, and her cheeks flushed. He couldn’t help it, making her angry had become his goal for the summer, if only to see her looking like that.
“Ask nice, and I’ll tell you the spell that will clean them.”
“I don’t need to be told the spell, Mr. Weasley! I know my spells. I can do more spells than most of the other sixth year students combined!” To make her point, Hermione waved her wand, and repeated an incantation. When it didn’t budge so much as a single feather, she frowned. She tried another spell. Again, the feathers stayed. After trying every cleaning spell she knew of, Hermione stomped her foot and turned back to him. “Ok, fine. Fix it, please.”
“Now, Hermione, dear, is that asking nicely? Come on love, you can do better than that.” Fred wondered how much goading it would take before she would explode at him. This was the fourth time in the past two weeks that he’d set out to anger her, and to his surprise, one of those times resulted in the snogging of his life. Since that day, she had avoided him, and even ignored two more attempts at pranking her.
“Fred Weasley, clean it up now. Before I tell your mother.”
“She’s gone, love. Won’t be back till tonight at the earliest. You can do better than that, can’t you, Hermione?” He was leaning casually against the doorway, his arms folded, and one foot crossed over the other and propped on its toes. He was wearing a horribly bright pink jacket which clashed with his hair, and had the initials WWW on the right breast side. Hermione closed her eyes again and drew in a deep slow breath.
“Fred, would you please show me what I need to do to clean up these feathers you’ve so thoughtfully added to the décor in my room?” Her voice started out calm enough, but by the end, he could tell she was gritting her teeth, and getting angrier. Perfect, he thought.
“Why, Hermione. I thought you’d never ask. Come here. I’ll show you what you need to do to clean the feathers up.” She looked at his face, and registered the twinkle in his eyes, and the smirk on his face. She had a feeling this would end badly, but the feathers were infuriating her even more with each passing second. He was just lucky she wasn’t allergic. Hermione took a step towards him, and waited for him to speak.
“Bit closer, love. Come on now, you can do it. I promise I won’t bite.” She stepped closer with slightly narrowed eyes, and waited for further instructions. “That’s a good girl. Close your eyes.”
Hermoine’s eyes peered at him for a moment, then closed with a scowl firmly on her face. Fred leaned in towards her, until his mouth was near her ear. He waited for a moment, letting his breath blow against her hair and ear, and knowing intuitively that it was bothering her. Finally, he spoke.
“I charmed them to only respond to one thing. You have to kiss me.” His voice was soft as he spoke. It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, it was just as he anticipated: an outraged screech, a stomped foot, and Hermione pulling away. He had a firm smirk in place as he shrugged. “Suit yourself love.”
He turned away from the doorway, and started down the hall while mentally counting down from 5. When he got to the stairs heading down, and the number 1, he heard her calling after him, asking him to wait. Fred put a bright smile on his face as he turned back towards her, and walked back to her a little cockily.
“Yes, love?”
“Just one? Just a quick kiss? That’s all?” She was nervous now, her hands were fiddling with the hem of her shirt, while her teeth bit down on her lower lip.
“It only requires one, but feel free to extend it if you want. Won’t get any arguments from me.” His voice held a bit of laughter in it, and she frowned at it.
“Fine. Just one, though.” Hermione stood there, nervous looking, clearly apprehensive as she waited for him to kiss her. After several moments of waiting, she narrowed her eyes again. “Well, get on with it!”
“Uh, uh, love. You gotta do it.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“Au contraire, I did, Mon peu d'amour. I said you have to kiss me. So, pucker up, sweet lips.” Fred waited patiently. Hermione fumed silently. This lasted several seconds before Hermione reached up, grasped his face between her hands, and laid her lips to his. It was a hard kiss, at first. Her lips were squeezed together tightly, at first. Her eyes were squeezed closed as well, at first. After the first moment dragged by, Fred’s hands went to her face to hold her close, his fingers splayed across her cheeks, and resting in her hair.
As Fred opened his lips and returned the kiss, Hermione’s demeanor melted. Her lips opened, and moved softly against his. Her eyes remained closed, but no longer were they squeezed tight. Her hands moved further back on his face, until they were resting in his hair, her fingers moving and massaging his scalp as the kiss continued.
Around them, feathers disappeared, as the room cleaned itself. Fred began to back her slowly into the room, never breaking the kiss. When the backs of her legs touched the bed, she startled slightly, and broke the kiss to turn and stare at the bed, then at the clean floor, then at Fred with widened eyes, and kiss swollen lips. It only took a moment for the haze surrounding her to clear, and she scowled at him.
“Nice try, Fredrick Weasley! Get out, or I’ll consider telling your mother anyway!” She pushed him away, and watched as he sauntered from the room, whistling merrily as he went. While she sat fuming, and trying to convince herself that he wasn’t -that- good, he was already plotting a new way of upsetting her.
The End
Note: Au contraire, I did, Mon peu d'amour- The French loosely translates to On the contrary and my little love. This is provided from an online translator, so I reserve the right to blame them if I actually said something to the effect of, “I love mayonnaise and teddy bears”
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Summery: Fred plays a joke on Hermione
Warnings: None
Rating: G- fun fluffy goodness
Words: 1,192
“I did it. It was me. I confess.” Hermione startled at the sound of the voice before turning to see an unrepentant looking twin standing in her doorway. She frowned, and turned back towards the room, which was now coated in at least two inches of feathers. Her hands went to her hips as she tried to quell the anger growing inside. She tried taking a deep breath. She tried to close her eyes. She tried counting to 10, and then to 20. Finally, after she felt she had at least a bit of a reign on her anger, she turned back towards the grinning twin. She already figured it had been Fred, so the confession was pointless.
“And just who do you expect to clean this mess?” Her hands were still on her hips, but they had clenched into fists as her lips tightened out into a thin line. Fred watched her with a grin, wondering if she knew just how beautiful she looked when her eyes blazed like that, and her cheeks flushed. He couldn’t help it, making her angry had become his goal for the summer, if only to see her looking like that.
“Ask nice, and I’ll tell you the spell that will clean them.”
“I don’t need to be told the spell, Mr. Weasley! I know my spells. I can do more spells than most of the other sixth year students combined!” To make her point, Hermione waved her wand, and repeated an incantation. When it didn’t budge so much as a single feather, she frowned. She tried another spell. Again, the feathers stayed. After trying every cleaning spell she knew of, Hermione stomped her foot and turned back to him. “Ok, fine. Fix it, please.”
“Now, Hermione, dear, is that asking nicely? Come on love, you can do better than that.” Fred wondered how much goading it would take before she would explode at him. This was the fourth time in the past two weeks that he’d set out to anger her, and to his surprise, one of those times resulted in the snogging of his life. Since that day, she had avoided him, and even ignored two more attempts at pranking her.
“Fred Weasley, clean it up now. Before I tell your mother.”
“She’s gone, love. Won’t be back till tonight at the earliest. You can do better than that, can’t you, Hermione?” He was leaning casually against the doorway, his arms folded, and one foot crossed over the other and propped on its toes. He was wearing a horribly bright pink jacket which clashed with his hair, and had the initials WWW on the right breast side. Hermione closed her eyes again and drew in a deep slow breath.
“Fred, would you please show me what I need to do to clean up these feathers you’ve so thoughtfully added to the décor in my room?” Her voice started out calm enough, but by the end, he could tell she was gritting her teeth, and getting angrier. Perfect, he thought.
“Why, Hermione. I thought you’d never ask. Come here. I’ll show you what you need to do to clean the feathers up.” She looked at his face, and registered the twinkle in his eyes, and the smirk on his face. She had a feeling this would end badly, but the feathers were infuriating her even more with each passing second. He was just lucky she wasn’t allergic. Hermione took a step towards him, and waited for him to speak.
“Bit closer, love. Come on now, you can do it. I promise I won’t bite.” She stepped closer with slightly narrowed eyes, and waited for further instructions. “That’s a good girl. Close your eyes.”
Hermoine’s eyes peered at him for a moment, then closed with a scowl firmly on her face. Fred leaned in towards her, until his mouth was near her ear. He waited for a moment, letting his breath blow against her hair and ear, and knowing intuitively that it was bothering her. Finally, he spoke.
“I charmed them to only respond to one thing. You have to kiss me.” His voice was soft as he spoke. It took her a moment to respond, but when she did, it was just as he anticipated: an outraged screech, a stomped foot, and Hermione pulling away. He had a firm smirk in place as he shrugged. “Suit yourself love.”
He turned away from the doorway, and started down the hall while mentally counting down from 5. When he got to the stairs heading down, and the number 1, he heard her calling after him, asking him to wait. Fred put a bright smile on his face as he turned back towards her, and walked back to her a little cockily.
“Yes, love?”
“Just one? Just a quick kiss? That’s all?” She was nervous now, her hands were fiddling with the hem of her shirt, while her teeth bit down on her lower lip.
“It only requires one, but feel free to extend it if you want. Won’t get any arguments from me.” His voice held a bit of laughter in it, and she frowned at it.
“Fine. Just one, though.” Hermione stood there, nervous looking, clearly apprehensive as she waited for him to kiss her. After several moments of waiting, she narrowed her eyes again. “Well, get on with it!”
“Uh, uh, love. You gotta do it.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“Au contraire, I did, Mon peu d'amour. I said you have to kiss me. So, pucker up, sweet lips.” Fred waited patiently. Hermione fumed silently. This lasted several seconds before Hermione reached up, grasped his face between her hands, and laid her lips to his. It was a hard kiss, at first. Her lips were squeezed together tightly, at first. Her eyes were squeezed closed as well, at first. After the first moment dragged by, Fred’s hands went to her face to hold her close, his fingers splayed across her cheeks, and resting in her hair.
As Fred opened his lips and returned the kiss, Hermione’s demeanor melted. Her lips opened, and moved softly against his. Her eyes remained closed, but no longer were they squeezed tight. Her hands moved further back on his face, until they were resting in his hair, her fingers moving and massaging his scalp as the kiss continued.
Around them, feathers disappeared, as the room cleaned itself. Fred began to back her slowly into the room, never breaking the kiss. When the backs of her legs touched the bed, she startled slightly, and broke the kiss to turn and stare at the bed, then at the clean floor, then at Fred with widened eyes, and kiss swollen lips. It only took a moment for the haze surrounding her to clear, and she scowled at him.
“Nice try, Fredrick Weasley! Get out, or I’ll consider telling your mother anyway!” She pushed him away, and watched as he sauntered from the room, whistling merrily as he went. While she sat fuming, and trying to convince herself that he wasn’t -that- good, he was already plotting a new way of upsetting her.
The End
Note: Au contraire, I did, Mon peu d'amour- The French loosely translates to On the contrary and my little love. This is provided from an online translator, so I reserve the right to blame them if I actually said something to the effect of, “I love mayonnaise and teddy bears”