Fic: Let It Snow
Title: Let It Snow
Author: onion_layers
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Subtly is lost on Weasleys. Hermione decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: I'm relatively new to the Fred/Hermione pairing, but I figured I'd go ahead and post this anyways. This was originally written for inell as a birthday present.
Fred Weasley, co-owner of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, looked up from the counter when he heard the tell-tale chime of a customer coming through the door. Putting on a solicitous smile, he stood up and turned the corner to greet the potential buyer when he walked straight into a soft, warm body with a soft oompf.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised with a sheepish smile, “I didn’t see…Oh, hello Hermione. I thought I had just run down a customer.”
“Nope,” she replied with a self-deprecating shrug as she shook the snow out of her hair. “It’s just me.”
He stared at her cheeks, attractively reddened from the cold and snow, before finally remembering the manners that his mum had taught him so long ago. He quietly offered to take her coat, which she accepted with a grateful smile, handing him her scarf first while she took off her coat. He watched in fascination has her nimble little fingers quickly worked the buttons, his stomach doing a small flip flop. While Hermione may have felt that her presence was inconsequential, she couldn’t have been farther from the truth.
It had all started when the brunette witch had received, and accepted, an offer of employment from Gringotts. Until then, she had always been Hermione, best friends with Ron and Harry, and little sister to all. Fred had always regarded her with mild amusement, always remembering her as a slightly overbearing, rules-oriented kind of girl. Never once in all his years at Hogwarts had he looked at her with any sort of regard. It wasn’t until years later, when his and George’s company was in full swing, that he chanced upon her in a more adult setting.
Apparently while she was out celebrating her newly acquired job with her friends, Ginny had suggested that they stop by the shop to spread the good news. The moment that Hermione had walked in that door with smile as wide as could be, her cheeks rosy after a few butterbeers, and her hair just as uncontrollable as it was during their school days, a single thought had hit the red-haired wizard like a rogue hippogriff. Hermione Granger was no longer a child. Point in fact, she was a highly successful, and in his opinion, very pretty, young woman.
From that day forth he had made any excuse to see her; he would ask for advice on their products even if he didn’t need it, he would invite her out to lunch when she had her break, and he would stop by the bank just to say hello. Had she expressed any interest other than that of the familial kind, he would have asked her out in a heartbeat. As it stood, she treated him just like she would an older brother. Any other girl would have fallen over herself with just one of his goofy smiles or innuendo laden jokes, but not his Hermione. She would just roll her eyes and give him a smack on the arm for his troubles.
Snapping back to the present, Fred let out an inaudible sigh and gestured Hermione towards the back of the shop. It was his fault, really, that he saw the brunette as much as he did. After asking for her help, she had become so engrossed with so much of the research for new products that she was here almost everyday. She wasn’t the smartest witch of her generation for nothing. Too bad all the pent-up sexual frustration was going to kill him, at this rate.
As they entered the development room, Fred said, “We’re out of Skiving Snackboxes again; it seems that all the students wanted to stock up on them during the holidays.”
Hermione sent him a disapproving glare to which his breath hitched. Merlin, he loved it when she got all bossy on him. “I remember those from school, Fred, and they were horrible! Do you know how many children missed classes because of those?” she admonished.
“Why yes, I do. That it, after all, the whole point,” he replied cheekily, hoping that he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. If she kept this up, he wouldn’t be able to make it through the rest of the day without a cold shower. Just seeing her shedding her coat earlier had set his heart racing and his mind wandering; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d look like spread out on his bed begging for more.
“Fred, are you ok?”
Startled, he focussed his attention back on the petite witch in front of him and not on thoughts that would lead him down a road he only travelled in the privacy of his own bedroom or bathroom. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
She walked to stand in front of him and reached up to touch the side of his face lightly. “You’re eyes were glazed over,” she responded quietly, concern apparent on her face. “Are you working so much that you aren’t eating and sleeping properly?”
Fred let out a choked laugh as he tried not to lean into her feather-light touch. “Would I do that?” he asked jokingly. At her raised eyebrow, he continued with a smile, “I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do.”
At that, Hermione let out a happy laugh and returned her attention to the work bench at her side. After collecting his thoughts, Fred cleared his throat, saying, “George and I can’t seem to find a way to solve the problem with the Weather Whizzies. The Snow Snappies are fine, but the Sleet Suckers keep melting too quickly. We can’t seem to keep them solid.”
During his explanation, Hermione kept making little noises to let him know she was listening, and after he was finished, she picked up their research notes. Skimming though them quickly, she asked, “So you’ve tried adding the Doxy eggs, right?”
“Yes,” Fred said with a nod. “It kept it icy, but made it a dull brown colour and the taste was slightly metallic.”
“What about the powdered Graphorn?”
“Nope, that one didn’t work at all, but it did turn George’s tongue green with yellow polka dots,” he explained with a grin.
“Hmm,” Hermione mused, running a hand through her hair, “I’ll need to check a few books, but I think I have an idea that may work.”
Hours later, the sound of Hermione’s stomach rumbling broke the stillness. She shut her book with a yawn and stood up, stretching tall. Fred watched, entranced, as her shirt slipped higher, revealing a sliver of creamy skin. Tearing his eyes away, he said, “Why don’t we take a break? I’ll just pop down into Diagon Alley for some dinner and then we can finish up here later.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the brunette replied with a blush as her stomach let out another growl of protest. “I can stay as late as we need to tonight because I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
“Those goblins actually give you Sundays off?” he asked teasingly. “Whatever are they thinking?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him playfully and pointed to the door. “Go get my food,” she ordered with a smile.
With a jaunty salute, Fred left for dinner, returning a few minutes later with his arms full of food. “Who’s going to eat all this?” she asked with wide eyes.
“Just trying to fatten you up, love,” the red-head replied with a lascivious wink. Hermione blushed prettily, but then snorted and rolled her eyes as she helped him unload their dinner.
Between mouthfuls of delicious grilled salmon, she broached an idea that had been taking shape since she glanced at their research notes. “I was reading up on salamander blood, which I think will keep the Sleet Suckers from melting without leading to discolouration or an odd taste. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. It’s used in strengthening potions, and I think it will help the suckers keep their iciness. You know, sort of strengthen their coldness.”
Fred nodded his agreement before taking a sip of his butterbeer, trying, unsuccessfully, to reign in his imagination. Watching Hermione eat, watching her lick crumbs off her lips and fingers, it would be a miracle if he could stand up without embarrassing himself. Since when was eating so bloody erotic? Flushing at the mere thought, he took another, longer swig before attacking his dinner with his fork.
Fred’s telltale blush didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione. In fact, she had noticed lots of little, strange things about Fred lately. The way his eyes would glaze over whenever she touched him, even though it wasn’t intimate at all, the way he would stare at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, and the way he’d blush furiously at absolutely nothing. At first, she had thought she was imagining things, seeing things that weren’t there. But it happened, again and again, until one day she had brought it up with Ginny. And while the youngest Weasley didn’t say that Hermione was right, she didn’t say she was wrong, either.
As soon as she had entered the shop this afternoon, she had watched Fred closely, and she was certain she was reading him right. It was when she had touched his face, and the fleeting look of pure bliss, that made up her mind. Tonight she was going to seduce Fred Weasley.
“What are you smiling at?” Fred asked with a curious look on his face.
“Oh, nothing much,” she replied with a mysterious smile. This was going to be more fun than previously anticipated. “I’m finished, are you?” When he nodded, Hermione said, “Great, why don’t we go see if my idea is correct.” With that, she stood up and made her way to the development room.
Fred could have sworn she was swinging her hips more than normal, but shook his head and chalked it up to his imagination. Stifling a groan, he stood up, all the while thinking of Hagrid and Madam Hooch. When he gained control of all his faculties, he followed after Hermione.
When he entered the room, she was already busy mixing the salamander blood into a batch of sweets, so he busied himself with going over the notes she had made. Reading through them, he found that everything was in order, like always.
“Mm, these taste good,” Hermione said around a mouthful of sweets.
“Hermione!” Fred yelped, worried. “You aren’t supposed to try those before me or George does. We always try everything first, just in case.”
The brunette shot him a cat-like smile before walking up to stand in front of him. Leaning up on her toes, she blew tiny pieces of ice onto his cheek, where they remained, stuck. “Looks like I was right. No melting, no funny colours, and no weird taste,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “You’ve always been good at your job.”
She did a pretty imitation of blushing before shooting him a shy smile and walking back over to the table. Fred took the opportunity to wipe the ice off his cheek with one finger and lick it off, pretending it was Hermione he was tasting. He looked back up at her when she asked, “This is one of the Snowball Snappies, right?”
“Yeah,” he responded, in a slightly hoarse voice. He winced faintly, hoping she didn’t pick up on his husky tone.
“And you said that this prototype is fine, right?”
“Yep,” he replied in what he hoped was a more normal tone.
She popped the sweet into her mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully before sidling up to him again. This time, with her lips mere inches away from his, she blew tiny snowflakes at him. “Mm,” she said, matching his previously husky tone, “Tastes like mint.”
All Fred could managed was a strangled cough. Gently, Hermione reached out and wiped away the lingering flakes of snow from his chin and mouth, her thumb catching on his bottom lip. “Fred,” she said with a small smile.
Again, all he could manage was a choked whimper.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to kiss me?” she asked impishly.
He stood in front of her, stunned and silent, for a few too many moments and she feared that she had read his actions all wrong. She was about to take a step back and apologise when he cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers.
Hermione literally purred in satisfaction as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling into his red hair. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, and she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to stroke hers. With a low moan, he pulled her tightly to him. She took that as an invitation to insinuate herself against him, feeling the heat of his skin through her clothes.
When they finally separated, both were breathing heavily and gazing at each other through darkened eyes. Fred gave her a lusty smile, saying, “You’re right, it does taste like mint,” before sliding one arm down to her hip and dragging her back to him.
“It took you long enough,” Hermione teased against his lips.
“I just needed the right incentive,” he shot back as he nipped at her bottom lip before kissing her once again.
Author: onion_layers
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Subtly is lost on Weasleys. Hermione decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: I'm relatively new to the Fred/Hermione pairing, but I figured I'd go ahead and post this anyways. This was originally written for inell as a birthday present.
Fred Weasley, co-owner of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, looked up from the counter when he heard the tell-tale chime of a customer coming through the door. Putting on a solicitous smile, he stood up and turned the corner to greet the potential buyer when he walked straight into a soft, warm body with a soft oompf.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised with a sheepish smile, “I didn’t see…Oh, hello Hermione. I thought I had just run down a customer.”
“Nope,” she replied with a self-deprecating shrug as she shook the snow out of her hair. “It’s just me.”
He stared at her cheeks, attractively reddened from the cold and snow, before finally remembering the manners that his mum had taught him so long ago. He quietly offered to take her coat, which she accepted with a grateful smile, handing him her scarf first while she took off her coat. He watched in fascination has her nimble little fingers quickly worked the buttons, his stomach doing a small flip flop. While Hermione may have felt that her presence was inconsequential, she couldn’t have been farther from the truth.
It had all started when the brunette witch had received, and accepted, an offer of employment from Gringotts. Until then, she had always been Hermione, best friends with Ron and Harry, and little sister to all. Fred had always regarded her with mild amusement, always remembering her as a slightly overbearing, rules-oriented kind of girl. Never once in all his years at Hogwarts had he looked at her with any sort of regard. It wasn’t until years later, when his and George’s company was in full swing, that he chanced upon her in a more adult setting.
Apparently while she was out celebrating her newly acquired job with her friends, Ginny had suggested that they stop by the shop to spread the good news. The moment that Hermione had walked in that door with smile as wide as could be, her cheeks rosy after a few butterbeers, and her hair just as uncontrollable as it was during their school days, a single thought had hit the red-haired wizard like a rogue hippogriff. Hermione Granger was no longer a child. Point in fact, she was a highly successful, and in his opinion, very pretty, young woman.
From that day forth he had made any excuse to see her; he would ask for advice on their products even if he didn’t need it, he would invite her out to lunch when she had her break, and he would stop by the bank just to say hello. Had she expressed any interest other than that of the familial kind, he would have asked her out in a heartbeat. As it stood, she treated him just like she would an older brother. Any other girl would have fallen over herself with just one of his goofy smiles or innuendo laden jokes, but not his Hermione. She would just roll her eyes and give him a smack on the arm for his troubles.
Snapping back to the present, Fred let out an inaudible sigh and gestured Hermione towards the back of the shop. It was his fault, really, that he saw the brunette as much as he did. After asking for her help, she had become so engrossed with so much of the research for new products that she was here almost everyday. She wasn’t the smartest witch of her generation for nothing. Too bad all the pent-up sexual frustration was going to kill him, at this rate.
As they entered the development room, Fred said, “We’re out of Skiving Snackboxes again; it seems that all the students wanted to stock up on them during the holidays.”
Hermione sent him a disapproving glare to which his breath hitched. Merlin, he loved it when she got all bossy on him. “I remember those from school, Fred, and they were horrible! Do you know how many children missed classes because of those?” she admonished.
“Why yes, I do. That it, after all, the whole point,” he replied cheekily, hoping that he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. If she kept this up, he wouldn’t be able to make it through the rest of the day without a cold shower. Just seeing her shedding her coat earlier had set his heart racing and his mind wandering; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d look like spread out on his bed begging for more.
“Fred, are you ok?”
Startled, he focussed his attention back on the petite witch in front of him and not on thoughts that would lead him down a road he only travelled in the privacy of his own bedroom or bathroom. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
She walked to stand in front of him and reached up to touch the side of his face lightly. “You’re eyes were glazed over,” she responded quietly, concern apparent on her face. “Are you working so much that you aren’t eating and sleeping properly?”
Fred let out a choked laugh as he tried not to lean into her feather-light touch. “Would I do that?” he asked jokingly. At her raised eyebrow, he continued with a smile, “I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do.”
At that, Hermione let out a happy laugh and returned her attention to the work bench at her side. After collecting his thoughts, Fred cleared his throat, saying, “George and I can’t seem to find a way to solve the problem with the Weather Whizzies. The Snow Snappies are fine, but the Sleet Suckers keep melting too quickly. We can’t seem to keep them solid.”
During his explanation, Hermione kept making little noises to let him know she was listening, and after he was finished, she picked up their research notes. Skimming though them quickly, she asked, “So you’ve tried adding the Doxy eggs, right?”
“Yes,” Fred said with a nod. “It kept it icy, but made it a dull brown colour and the taste was slightly metallic.”
“What about the powdered Graphorn?”
“Nope, that one didn’t work at all, but it did turn George’s tongue green with yellow polka dots,” he explained with a grin.
“Hmm,” Hermione mused, running a hand through her hair, “I’ll need to check a few books, but I think I have an idea that may work.”
Hours later, the sound of Hermione’s stomach rumbling broke the stillness. She shut her book with a yawn and stood up, stretching tall. Fred watched, entranced, as her shirt slipped higher, revealing a sliver of creamy skin. Tearing his eyes away, he said, “Why don’t we take a break? I’ll just pop down into Diagon Alley for some dinner and then we can finish up here later.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the brunette replied with a blush as her stomach let out another growl of protest. “I can stay as late as we need to tonight because I don’t have to work tomorrow.”
“Those goblins actually give you Sundays off?” he asked teasingly. “Whatever are they thinking?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him playfully and pointed to the door. “Go get my food,” she ordered with a smile.
With a jaunty salute, Fred left for dinner, returning a few minutes later with his arms full of food. “Who’s going to eat all this?” she asked with wide eyes.
“Just trying to fatten you up, love,” the red-head replied with a lascivious wink. Hermione blushed prettily, but then snorted and rolled her eyes as she helped him unload their dinner.
Between mouthfuls of delicious grilled salmon, she broached an idea that had been taking shape since she glanced at their research notes. “I was reading up on salamander blood, which I think will keep the Sleet Suckers from melting without leading to discolouration or an odd taste. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. It’s used in strengthening potions, and I think it will help the suckers keep their iciness. You know, sort of strengthen their coldness.”
Fred nodded his agreement before taking a sip of his butterbeer, trying, unsuccessfully, to reign in his imagination. Watching Hermione eat, watching her lick crumbs off her lips and fingers, it would be a miracle if he could stand up without embarrassing himself. Since when was eating so bloody erotic? Flushing at the mere thought, he took another, longer swig before attacking his dinner with his fork.
Fred’s telltale blush didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione. In fact, she had noticed lots of little, strange things about Fred lately. The way his eyes would glaze over whenever she touched him, even though it wasn’t intimate at all, the way he would stare at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, and the way he’d blush furiously at absolutely nothing. At first, she had thought she was imagining things, seeing things that weren’t there. But it happened, again and again, until one day she had brought it up with Ginny. And while the youngest Weasley didn’t say that Hermione was right, she didn’t say she was wrong, either.
As soon as she had entered the shop this afternoon, she had watched Fred closely, and she was certain she was reading him right. It was when she had touched his face, and the fleeting look of pure bliss, that made up her mind. Tonight she was going to seduce Fred Weasley.
“What are you smiling at?” Fred asked with a curious look on his face.
“Oh, nothing much,” she replied with a mysterious smile. This was going to be more fun than previously anticipated. “I’m finished, are you?” When he nodded, Hermione said, “Great, why don’t we go see if my idea is correct.” With that, she stood up and made her way to the development room.
Fred could have sworn she was swinging her hips more than normal, but shook his head and chalked it up to his imagination. Stifling a groan, he stood up, all the while thinking of Hagrid and Madam Hooch. When he gained control of all his faculties, he followed after Hermione.
When he entered the room, she was already busy mixing the salamander blood into a batch of sweets, so he busied himself with going over the notes she had made. Reading through them, he found that everything was in order, like always.
“Mm, these taste good,” Hermione said around a mouthful of sweets.
“Hermione!” Fred yelped, worried. “You aren’t supposed to try those before me or George does. We always try everything first, just in case.”
The brunette shot him a cat-like smile before walking up to stand in front of him. Leaning up on her toes, she blew tiny pieces of ice onto his cheek, where they remained, stuck. “Looks like I was right. No melting, no funny colours, and no weird taste,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “You’ve always been good at your job.”
She did a pretty imitation of blushing before shooting him a shy smile and walking back over to the table. Fred took the opportunity to wipe the ice off his cheek with one finger and lick it off, pretending it was Hermione he was tasting. He looked back up at her when she asked, “This is one of the Snowball Snappies, right?”
“Yeah,” he responded, in a slightly hoarse voice. He winced faintly, hoping she didn’t pick up on his husky tone.
“And you said that this prototype is fine, right?”
“Yep,” he replied in what he hoped was a more normal tone.
She popped the sweet into her mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully before sidling up to him again. This time, with her lips mere inches away from his, she blew tiny snowflakes at him. “Mm,” she said, matching his previously husky tone, “Tastes like mint.”
All Fred could managed was a strangled cough. Gently, Hermione reached out and wiped away the lingering flakes of snow from his chin and mouth, her thumb catching on his bottom lip. “Fred,” she said with a small smile.
Again, all he could manage was a choked whimper.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to kiss me?” she asked impishly.
He stood in front of her, stunned and silent, for a few too many moments and she feared that she had read his actions all wrong. She was about to take a step back and apologise when he cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers.
Hermione literally purred in satisfaction as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling into his red hair. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, and she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to stroke hers. With a low moan, he pulled her tightly to him. She took that as an invitation to insinuate herself against him, feeling the heat of his skin through her clothes.
When they finally separated, both were breathing heavily and gazing at each other through darkened eyes. Fred gave her a lusty smile, saying, “You’re right, it does taste like mint,” before sliding one arm down to her hip and dragging her back to him.
“It took you long enough,” Hermione teased against his lips.
“I just needed the right incentive,” he shot back as he nipped at her bottom lip before kissing her once again.