I Hate That I Love You (Fred & Hermione)

1|The Prefects

Hermione blushed furiously, as Mrs. Weasley has just released her from a bone crushing hug. The eyes of the room, the kitchen of number twelve Grimuald Place, were entirely on her. She did not understand why there had to be such a fuss.

"To Ron and Hermione, our Prefects." Molly spoke, now raising a glass.

"To the prefects." Fred and George chorused.

Hermione was glad, as the silent attention burst into small conversations. She regained the normal color of her cheeks, choosing not to speak as Ron discussed which broom he wished for a present to Harry.

She stepped backwards which was a mistake, colliding into the mass behind her.

"Eh Granger, careful there."

She spun round, muttering a string of embarrassed apologies. "Sorry Fred."

"I'm George."

The other twin leaned casually on her shoulder, "can you not tell us apart? Five years—honestly Hermione."

"I'm only kidding. I am Fred. Just because you're a prefect doesn't mean we'll refrain from identity jokes, now does it?" He smirked.

She looked up at him disapprovingly. "Yes, well—" she regained her temporary loss of speech. "I cannot prevent you from your obnoxious behavior—" they frowned, and she paused to let her opinion sink in. "—However, I simply cannot allow you to continue with your Wizard, Wheezing—"

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." George provided.

"Right." She nodded, rolling her eyes at the designated name. "Point is, I'll have none of it."

"You heard the Prefect, Fred, she won't have any of it." He gave a mock salutation.

They both chuckled at her annoyed expression, and then slipped away to go get some cake.

"Those two!" She huffed, joining Harry an Ron.

"What about them?"Ron asked, whilst chewing.

"They are up to no good with those products they're inventing. We have to prevent it Ron."

"I can't tell of my older brother's. They mock me enough for landing the spot. They're just jealous they are." He grumbled and repositioned his badge.

In a moment, the twins had sat down across from them, with two plates piled with dessert.  "Eh Granger, when the post came with that badge of yours, did a letter come with it?" 

"What letter?" She asked, having no idea what they were talking about.

"Letter from Krum? You two 've been writing haven't you?" 

Ginny sat down on the other side of Hermione. "Shut up nosy." She answered with a contemptuous glare. 

"Well Gin we have to ask now don't we, because Hermione's love interest doesn't live down the hall." George subtly glanced at Harry. 

Harry pretended he didn't hear a thing, and Ginny didn't bother protesting.  

"Krum? You mean Viktor Krum?" Ron interjected. 

"No, for your information, I have not received a letter from Viktor. Yes, we write, but it's only because we are friends." Hermione stated firmly.

"Yeah right." George answered sarcastically. Though Fred remained silent at the current moment.

Hermione's Prefect status was not mentioned again, until they had arrived at Hogwarts.  Fred and George were in the corner of the common room when she spotted them. "Oh Honestly!"

Ron sunk lower in his chair, as she stalked over to the twins. "You cannot test products in here for the last time, and certainly not on first years!" She added briefly looking to the young Wizard whose nose just stopped bleeding. 

"I'll take him Granger, to the hospital wing. Okay?"  George offered.

"You better!" 

She then turned to Fred, extending out her hand. "Give them over!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Fred, I swear to Merlin.  Just because I'm a friend of Ron's, does not mean you can disobey the rules." She stepped closer.

He reached into his pocket, and dumped a few sweet wrappers into her outstretched palm. 

"Thank you." She said, suspicious of his lack of protest. She then walked over to the fire and threw them in. A bang went off, and a few students headed up to the dormitories to avoid the noise.  She returned to Harry and Ron. "Have you two finished your essay yet?"  She began, pretending as though she hadn't just set off the humongous bang. 

"No, tired—Quidditch practice, you know."  And they both jogged up the stairs before she could manage one more once of work out of the pair. 

"You do realize, we have hundreds of them. Some do a lot worse than explode when you try and ditch em." Fred continued, and she turned her head to watch him flop onto the sofa next to her. 

"Keep them then. Just don't use them, or I'll have to—"

"Do what?"  He smirked, but in a playful way. 

Hermione raised her eyebrows as he put his feet up on the coffee table. "I'll write to your mother." 

"You wouldn't."

"I would." She sung, and avoided his eyes to suppress the urge to grin. 

"Hermione, I respect your Prefect duties, but honestly what's the harm?" 

She turned her head, about to start on exactly what the harm indeed was, but was caught face to face with him, rather closer than she had expected. 
They both blushed feverishly, and looked to the empty common room.

She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not knowing how to approach the lack of speech that suddenly overtook them both. "Er-" she shook her head slightly. "I'm tired. I'll just—" she stood up, and so did he. 

For the second time they nearly bumped into each other. Though before they did, he awkwardly reached out a hand.  She stared at it, but lunging for it seemed a better excuse than running into his shoulder. "I'll do my best to limit our testing."

She grabbed his hand, gave it a feeble shake. "Deal."

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"I solemnly Swear that (I will vote for this part), I am up to no good."