Fred/Hermione: "Words She'll Never Forget"
Title: Words She’ll Never Forget
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 699
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings/Characters: Fred, Hermione
Status: Complete
Genre(s): Drama
Spoilers: up to DH
Prompt: Open, for 100quills
Summary: Hermione’s fears and worries become stronger as the war grows closer, and one day she is comforted by a very unexpected Weasley.
A/N: I did add some canon facts in this, but most of it is just a scene invented by me. Also, this fic isn’t a real Fred/Hermione romance, but I still label it as a Fred/Hermione fic because they have a nice moment together.
She stands silently in the kitchen.
Harry and Ron had gone on ahead outside to everyone after she had assured them that she would do the same in a few minutes.
She looks down at Tales of Beedle the Bard on the kitchen table, pondering Scrimgeour's words to her, Harry and Ron.
Dumbledore had left her this book... but why?
She knows that he must've had a good reason: perhaps it is a helpful clue toward finding the Horcruxes?
But the things that were left to Harry and Ron were rather odd as well.
She can guess what the sword of Gryffindor could be used for, but she's at a total loss over what could be the uses of a snitch and a deluminator.
She stands there, lost in her thoughts, until approaching footsteps, probably Harry's or Ron's, makes her look up.
It was not Harry or Ron, but Fred.
He approaches the table, giving her a smile, reaching for a lone dish that she doesn't take notice of until now.
"We've started without you," He says, his tone apologetic, "We were all starving, especially after the delay Scrimgeour's arrival brought."
She stares back at him, almost in a daze. "Oh."
He peers at her, almost scrutinizing her, but in a weird way she doesn't mind it as much as she would if it were Harry or Ron studying her. "Are you okay? You look sad."
She shakes out of her thoughts completely at his question. "Yeah. Do I look sad?"
"Very."
She looks back down at the book, unable to stand his calculating eyes any longer. "I'm just thinking about some things."
"Are you scared? You know, about the war?"
She meets his eyes again in surprise, and his face is serious: an expression she has never really seen on him.
She feels no need to lie, not on this. "Yes."
He gives her a small smile. " I am too."
"But you don't seem like it."
She curses her blatant statement.
He shrugs, sighing. " That's because I cover it up with laughter."
"And my witty sense of humor, of course," He adds, and his eyes shine.
She smiles half-heartedly.
"What if we all die?"
She didn't mean to say it, but that lingering question has been in her thoughts for so long, torturing her.
The smile leaves Fred's face and his eyes crinkle in concern.
" You won't die, Hermione, if that's what you're thinking," He says, his voice certain.
She shakes her head at him, a disbelieving smile upon her lips, but she can't prevent the hot tears that well up in her eyes. "How do you know?"
He smiles softly at her. " I just do."
"And besides," He adds, and now he's grinning, and it's infectious to her, " If I die, laughing, I hope, because there's no better way to go, I will have died for a good reason. And I'm sure everyone here feels the same way."
She can't stop the tears now, and she turns away, her face flushing at this.
She hears the clink of glass meeting a solid surface, and before she knows it, gentle hands grasp her shoulders and turn her around, and she is enveloped by Fred's arms.
She had never dreamed she would be in a situation like this, and with Fred of all people, but as she rests her head against Fred's chest she realizes that it doesn't matter.
After a moment or two, they separate, and she quickly wipes away her tears.
"Come on," He says, and he puts his arm around her, leading her towards the door to the backyard. "George and I will find some way to cheer you up... would maybe pouring something on Ron's head do it?"
A laugh escapes her and he looks over at her, grinning in accomplishment as they seat themselves at the table.
~*~
The war spares her, just like Fred knew it would.
And when he does die, laughing, just like he predicted he would, she remembers the comforting words he gave her when she so desperately needed it.
And she never forgets it.
Not even after nineteen years.
fin.
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 699
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings/Characters: Fred, Hermione
Status: Complete
Genre(s): Drama
Spoilers: up to DH
Prompt: Open, for 100quills
Summary: Hermione’s fears and worries become stronger as the war grows closer, and one day she is comforted by a very unexpected Weasley.
A/N: I did add some canon facts in this, but most of it is just a scene invented by me. Also, this fic isn’t a real Fred/Hermione romance, but I still label it as a Fred/Hermione fic because they have a nice moment together.
She stands silently in the kitchen.
Harry and Ron had gone on ahead outside to everyone after she had assured them that she would do the same in a few minutes.
She looks down at Tales of Beedle the Bard on the kitchen table, pondering Scrimgeour's words to her, Harry and Ron.
Dumbledore had left her this book... but why?
She knows that he must've had a good reason: perhaps it is a helpful clue toward finding the Horcruxes?
But the things that were left to Harry and Ron were rather odd as well.
She can guess what the sword of Gryffindor could be used for, but she's at a total loss over what could be the uses of a snitch and a deluminator.
She stands there, lost in her thoughts, until approaching footsteps, probably Harry's or Ron's, makes her look up.
It was not Harry or Ron, but Fred.
He approaches the table, giving her a smile, reaching for a lone dish that she doesn't take notice of until now.
"We've started without you," He says, his tone apologetic, "We were all starving, especially after the delay Scrimgeour's arrival brought."
She stares back at him, almost in a daze. "Oh."
He peers at her, almost scrutinizing her, but in a weird way she doesn't mind it as much as she would if it were Harry or Ron studying her. "Are you okay? You look sad."
She shakes out of her thoughts completely at his question. "Yeah. Do I look sad?"
"Very."
She looks back down at the book, unable to stand his calculating eyes any longer. "I'm just thinking about some things."
"Are you scared? You know, about the war?"
She meets his eyes again in surprise, and his face is serious: an expression she has never really seen on him.
She feels no need to lie, not on this. "Yes."
He gives her a small smile. " I am too."
"But you don't seem like it."
She curses her blatant statement.
He shrugs, sighing. " That's because I cover it up with laughter."
"And my witty sense of humor, of course," He adds, and his eyes shine.
She smiles half-heartedly.
"What if we all die?"
She didn't mean to say it, but that lingering question has been in her thoughts for so long, torturing her.
The smile leaves Fred's face and his eyes crinkle in concern.
" You won't die, Hermione, if that's what you're thinking," He says, his voice certain.
She shakes her head at him, a disbelieving smile upon her lips, but she can't prevent the hot tears that well up in her eyes. "How do you know?"
He smiles softly at her. " I just do."
"And besides," He adds, and now he's grinning, and it's infectious to her, " If I die, laughing, I hope, because there's no better way to go, I will have died for a good reason. And I'm sure everyone here feels the same way."
She can't stop the tears now, and she turns away, her face flushing at this.
She hears the clink of glass meeting a solid surface, and before she knows it, gentle hands grasp her shoulders and turn her around, and she is enveloped by Fred's arms.
She had never dreamed she would be in a situation like this, and with Fred of all people, but as she rests her head against Fred's chest she realizes that it doesn't matter.
After a moment or two, they separate, and she quickly wipes away her tears.
"Come on," He says, and he puts his arm around her, leading her towards the door to the backyard. "George and I will find some way to cheer you up... would maybe pouring something on Ron's head do it?"
A laugh escapes her and he looks over at her, grinning in accomplishment as they seat themselves at the table.
~*~
The war spares her, just like Fred knew it would.
And when he does die, laughing, just like he predicted he would, she remembers the comforting words he gave her when she so desperately needed it.
And she never forgets it.
Not even after nineteen years.
fin.