Hermione glanced over at Ron and grinned, her eyes dancing. "Don't say that too loud, Draco's liable to overhear and pay someone to do it."

"Erasing the paper trail so that no one can trace it back to him?"

"No, not exactly. He'd probably find a way to pin it on Harry, so he'd spend another year in some sort of cloud of suspicion until all was revealed and Draco was punished for, not only my death, but the fact that the letter never got delivered, thus giving the Owls a bad name."

"Nice touch, that."

"Thank you."

Ron walked over to Hedwig and scratched her neck, ruffling the feathers as she hooted happily. "So, is today sending or receiving?"

"Pardon?"

"Some days you send. Some days you receive. So far, I can't tell if they ever overlap." He glanced around. "Pig's not here though, so I'd guess sending."

"I'd never use Pig, Ron." Her voice was soft enough to be a whisper. "Not for this."

"You can," he acted like the thought didn't bother him, acted like he wasn't relieved to know that she wasn't using his owl to send love notes to his brother. "I mean, I wouldn't mind."

"I'd mind." She assured him. "I imagine Fred would too. Might take it wrong."

"What'd you mean?"

"I think he's a little jealous of you." Hermione grinned. "He keeps going on about how if he were in school he could see me every day. And how it's not fair that you get to."

"He does not."

She shrugged. "Sometimes he does."

"He's jealous of me? Fred's jealous of me?" Ron laughed, the sound almost shrill. "Do you remind him that he's the one that has a free license to snog you all the time? That I can't even tap you on the arm to ask you a question without half the school firing daggers at me with their eyes? Do you remind him of the large 'Property of Fred Weasley' sign you apparently wear around all the time?"

"I do not!"

He sighed and turned his attention back to Hedwig. "Sometimes I think I can't even be your friend, Hermione. At least not without defending myself to the mass of Fred and Hermione supporters that throng around you."

"You've gone daft, Ron."

"Have I?" He snapped, losing his grip on his control. "So I just imagined it when Lavender told me this morning that I needed to stop following you around?"

"When do you follow me around?"

"I dunno. Maybe when you walk to class? When you go to lunch? You see, I'm not actually doing any of those things myself, I'm just dogging your heels, trying to put you off Fred."

"They're being ridiculous, Ron. Just ignore them."

"Right. And how do I do that when I live with most of them? I mean, they've even got the guys doing it. Seamus cornered me the other day and told me that I needed to stop touching you."

"When were you touching me?"

"In potions, apparently."

"We needed both of us to handle the cerridian."

"Yeah, well, apparently I was a little too friendly with you while I was trying not to get bitten by the stupid thing." He raked his hand through his hair. "I am daft, Hermione, because it's all making me daft."

"I never asked…"

"Why do you think I've waited this long to tell you?"

They sat silently, the soft hooting of the sleeping owls the only sound in the aerie. She started to say something, stopping when an owl swooped in toward her, turning at the last second and veering out another open window.

"I didn't know, Ron."

"I'm trying, Hermione. I'm really trying to be okay with this whole thing. Not you and Fred, although, yeah, that too, but with the whole school suddenly thinking that I'm some sort of interloper, like I'm trying to snatch you out of his arms while he's not around."

"I don't think that of you, Ron. The people that matter don't think that of you."

"I want us to be friends again, Hermione. Like we talked about."

"We are, Ron," she promised him. "But I can't help the way they act. I can't change it. They won't believe me if I say anything, they didn't before when I told them I was dating Fred, they won't now if I say you're not trying to take me away from him." She got to her feet and walked over to him, resting her hand on his shoulder. He looked down at her, his eyes hot as they moved over her lips, the weight of his gaze parting them. "You are my friend."

"Hermione…" She gasped as Pig flew between them, twittering crazily. "You stupid, daft creature!" Ron grabbed the manic owl out of the air and stilled it, his short red hair moving in the rapid beat of Pig's wings. "Stop it."

"Who's it from?"

Ron unfolded the letter. "Just Mum." He shoved it in his pocket and released Pig who flew off to chatter at Hedwig. "Anyway, I should probably head back before someone assumes I've cornered you up here in some nefarious attempt to steal you away from my brother."

"You know I don't think that though, right, Ron? You do know that?"

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah." She reached out and grabbed his hand and held it, refusing to let him go. He turned and looked at her, his heart somewhere in his throat. "I know, Hermione."

"Your friendship is one of the most important things in my life, Ron. If I lost it…"

He shook his head at the tears that glistened suddenly in her eyes. "Don't cry." He reached out and lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to his. He smiled sadly. "Don't cry, Hermione."

"I'm not going to cry," she assured him, swiping away at a tear that leaked out. He shook his head, his thumb catching the one that trickled down her other cheek. "Damn it."

"You won't lose my friendship. Not ever." He tilted his head, smiling softly. "Understand?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Understood."

"Good." He leaned in, his body swaying forward, caught in a strange tidal pool of longing. Hermione gasped quietly, not enough to break the hold that brought him inextricably closer. "Hermione?"

"Get out of the way, you git!" Draco's voice echoed through the aerie, sending half the owls swooping out the windows and serving as a dash of ice water through Ron's veins. He pulled away from Hermione, hating the stupid poncey git more than he'd ever hated him before. "Well, well," he drawled from the doorway, his silvery eyes taking in the scene with undisguised glee. "What have we here?"

"It's an aerie, Draco. I'd think even you would be smart enough to know that." She smirked. "Apparently I was wrong."

"Apparently you thought you'd be alone up here as well. Wrong about that too, weren't you?" He watched Ron's stance shift. "Whatever will your boyfriend say, Granger?"

"If you were to tell him anything? He'd probably tell you to sod off, Malfoy. But that's only a guess. Fred's far more eloquent with his insults than I am." An owl flew in, straight for Hermione, hovering patiently as she took her letter from its grip. "I'll be sure to write and ask him, if you'd like."

"Well, I, for one, don't know how you do it, Hermione." Lavender sat down at the library table where Hermione was sitting, her books spread out all around her. "I mean, really, you're quite brave."

"Er…what?" Hermione glanced around as Padma, Parvati and a few other girls from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw joined them. "I'm sort of studying."

"You're always studying," she was informed. "Which means you'll be fine for the few minutes it's going to take for you to tell us how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Not go crazy," Padma answered, her tone indicating that the answer was obvious. "I mean, with wanting."

"The…wanting?"

Parvati sighed and leaned across the table, looking Hermione squarely in the eye. "For Fred."

"Wanting Fred."

"Yes. You do want him, right?" Lavender looked somewhat shocked. "I mean, you saw him when he was here, didn't you? The jacket and the boots?"

"I usually don't notice Fred's clothes."

"Well, that's the point then, isn't it? If you don't notice his clothes, then how can you have any desire to see him out of them?"

"Er." Hermione blushed crimson, her eyes searching desperately for a familiar face or a saving grace. "Well, um."

"You do like Fred that way, don't you?"

"Because if you don't, it's really unfair of you to date him when someone else could have the chance."

Hermione looked at the speaker and decided outright that she wouldn't have a chance in hell. She blushed at the thought and forced her gaze back to Parvati's. "I don't need to know what Fred's wearing to want him out of whatever it is."

"So you do fancy him!" she crowed. "We were beginning to wonder, what with the way you and Ron have been acting."

"Me and Ron?"

"We see you two, well, three if you count Harry, all over the place together."

"We're best friends."

"And we were just wondering if maybe you weren't maybe getting too close to Ron because you missed Fred. Because that wouldn't be fair."

"To Ron or Fred."

"But mostly Fred," Lavender sighed. "So, have you guys…you know?"

Hermione's head was spinning. "Have we what? Wait, which we? Me and Harry and Ron?"

"No. You and Fred."

"Have we what?"

"Well," one of the Gryffindor girls whose name she didn't know rolled her eyes as if Hermione had gone suddenly stupid, "we know you've kissed him. And, if what Zoë saw in the corridor was any indication, we know that you've gone beyond that."

"Someone saw something in the corridor?" Hermione squeaked.

"Not everything," the girl who was apparently Zoë assured her. "Just enough to know that Fred is very, very good with his hands off the Quidditch field as well."

Hermione's face turned a shade of scarlet that was dangerously close to purple. "I really, really, really need to go back to my room."

"And write Fred?" Padma suggested.

"Or just think about him," Parvati laughed, winking suggestively. "And his hands."

"I…uh." Hermione gathered her books and scrambled out of her chair, leaving their laughter and the annoyed threats of Madame Pince as far behind as fast as she could.

Fred looked up from the ledger as his fireplace crackled to life, green flame dancing brilliantly, spilling out over his floor. One eyebrow lifted and he sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. He rested his chin on one as Hermione stepped out of the flame. "Tsk, tsk. Someone being naughty."

She grinned recklessly, tossing her hair slightly. "Professor Vector's out on a mission for Dumbledore." She was breathless. "I used his fireplace."

"Very naughty."

She shrugged off her robe and draped it over the chair beside the fireplace. "You want me to go?"

"I haven't seen you in two weeks." He turned, dropping his legs over the side of the bed and reached for her, pulling her between his thighs until his chin rested on her stomach. "You really think I want you to go?"

"I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Quarterly profit and loss statements." He shoved the ledger aside without a glance. "Nothing that can't wait until much, much later." His hands skimmed over her ass and down to her thighs. They were warm against her bare skin as he skimmed them under the hem of her skirt, his breath hot against the thin white of her uniform shirt. "Come down here and give me a proper hello."

She knelt down between his legs, her eyes locked on his. They closed slowly as he leaned in, the tips of her lashes fluttering against his cheeks. "Hello," she breathed.

"Mmm," he agreed, his hands tangling in her hair as he fitting his mouth over hers, his tongue sliding between her parted lips.

Hermione's hands settled on his thighs and she pulled back sharply, breaking the kiss with a shocked "oh!"

He tugged her closer again, wanting another kiss. "What'sthematter?"

"You're…you're…" She pulled away, her face redder than the stripes of her Gryffindor tie. "You're naked."

"Am not." He reached for her, sighing when she scrambled away. "I'm not."

She got to her feet and stood up, wrapping her arms around her suddenly achy body. "What're you wearing then?"

"They're something Oliver bought the team our second year at Hogwarts. Boxer-briefs, he called them."

"He bought them for you?"

"Well, he said they were better for playing Quidditch in, but I think he just wanted to see George in them and wasn't quite bold enough to ask."

"What ever happened with the two of them?"

He stood up, his bare chest and legs pale with just the faintest tinge of tan. Her eyes dropped automatically to the dark blue material that hugged his hips, jerking up before she noticed anything else they might be hugging. "You didn't come all this way to talk about my brother's sex life, did you?"

"Er, no." She blushed again and ran a nervous hand through her hair. "May…maybe I should go."

"I can put something on, Hermione, if I'm making you uncomfortable."

"No. I mean…no. It's your house. And I just sort of barged in and I…" Her face looked about to explode and her breath was coming too quickly. "I'm afraid to kiss you."

He took a step toward her, crowding the too-small room. "Why?"

"I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

"I'd never make you do anything you didn't want to do."

"I'd want to do it." Her gaze dropped deliberately this time and she nearly combusted as she saw his body react. Dragging her eyes back up to his, she took several steps back until her body was against the wall. "Maybe you should put something on."

Fred nodded, amused but serious as he grabbed a pair of sweats off the end of his bed, tugging them on. Hermione swallowed as he bent over to grab them, watching the play of muscles beneath his skin. He snapped the elastic against his waist and grinned as she jumped. His voice was husky and teasing, an invitation in the quiet. "Better?"

She shook her head. "No. But safer."

Fred nodded and sat back down on the bed, leaning against the wall, his knees drawn up toward his chest. His wrists rested on his knees, framing the rest of his body as he shifted his legs, leaving them slightly spread. "So." He watched her through his lashes, a smile laced with promise playing across his face. "We need a safe topic."

"That'd be best."

"You came all the way from Hogwarts, risking - at the very least - detention if you get caught and you want to talk about something safe?"

"What else could we talk about?"

"We could talk about how much I want you to come over here and kiss me again. How much I want to untie your tie so that it hangs loosely over your breasts as they rise and fall with every breath you take."

"We," she licked her lips, her hands fisting in her skirt as she pressed her shoulders against the wall as if she could will herself not to move, "we could?"

"How much I want to unbutton your shirt and taste the soft skin beneath your collar. How much I want to feel your breasts in my hands. How much I want-" He stopped as she crossed the room in two steps, moving between his legs on the mattress.

"Want what?" She asked hotly.

His hand curled in her hair and he found her lips with his own. "You," he whispered against them, burying his tongue in the silky warmth of her mouth. He let his legs drop, sliding along the sheets as she clamored onto his lap, straddling him as his hands tugged her shirt free of her skirt, sliding beneath the thin fabric to feel her burning skin.

She broke the kiss, panting as her nails dug into his shoulders, arching her back slightly. Fred groaned and rested his head between her breasts, inhaling her heady scent. Her hands moved up his neck to tangle in his hair and she pulled his head back, staring down into his blue eyes. "I'm right here."

Fred reached up and grabbed her hands, using the muscles he'd developed during long hours on the Quidditch field to flip her onto her back, her hands pinned above her head, her body spread out before him. "And now you're right here."

She caught her breath, managing a smile that was more like an invitation made of her swollen lips. Fred shook his head slightly as he closed his eyes, lowering her mouth to hers. He supported himself on one elbow, sliding his other hand between the two of them, gently tugging on Hermione's tie until it fell apart, sprawling, as promised, over her breasts, rising and falling with each ragged breath.

She struggled slightly, trying to free her hands from his strong grip, her eyes wide as he met her gaze. His blue eyes were scorching, reflecting her own desire back at her. He didn't say anything for a long time, just watching her, feeling her breathe as he let his fingers continue to travel down her chest, unfastening the clear buttons that held her shirt closed slowly, one at a time, parting fabric to expose more of her creamy skin.

"Fr…Fred?"

"It's all right," he assured her with a gentle kiss, releasing her hands as he pulled back, glancing down at her then closing his eyes, the image of her burning into his brain. "I won't hurt you."

"I know." She tried to swallow, struggling as she fought against her dry throat, all the moisture in her body sinking to the hot pit in the base of her stomach, dampening the thin cotton of her knickers. "I trust you."

He nearly groaned as he lowered himself closer to her, one hand easing her shirt off her shoulder while the other curved over her breast, the wispy lace of her bra scratching against his palm. "Merlin, you're beautiful."

"I'm…"

"I want to taste you, Hermione." He didn't look at her, dropping his gaze to her chest, his fingers unhooking the front clasp of her bra. The material fell away and her breasts, small and pert and perfect spilled from it. "Will you let me?"

She nodded feverishly, unable to form words as his hand cupped the underside of her breast, shaping it as he glanced at her for an instant before lowering his mouth and taking her hard nipple inside it.

His tongue flickered over the nub as he sucked gently, her shocked gasp like a pure bolt of desire shooting down his spine. He pulled back, his tongue playing over her naked skin. "You taste like pumpkin juice."

"I was a little nervous," she admitted in a whispery voice that shook. "I spilled."

"Mmm. Makes you spicy." He licked the underside of her breast, his nose nudging her skin, his tongue smoothing over it. Cool air pooled around the nipple he'd tasted, puckering it until it ached. He watched her skin as he moved over it, the play of light on the pale flesh, the caress of shadows. Moving over to the other breast, he breathed on it hotly before bending his head, her quiet answering cry provoking his own heated moan.

Hermione's fingers threaded through Fred's ginger hair, shaking as they raked through the strands. Her back arched, offering her breasts up to him, his hands and mouth caressing the willing flesh.

Fred finally pulled himself away, gasping for breath. Hermione's nipples were teased to hard, tight peaks and he flicked each with his tongue, panting heavily. She quivered beneath him, gone beyond speech, her body reacting purely on instinct.

"Did you spill anywhere else?" He asked as he kissed his way down her stomach, the faintest hints of pumpkin juice on her skin. His heart was pounding, his cock was pounding and he reached down, shedding his sweats in the overwhelming heat of the room. Perspiration beaded on Hermione's skin and her hair clung to her, tamed with sweaty desperation as she pressed her head deeper into the pillow, her hips arching off the bed in invitation.

Fred groaned and wrenched his mouth away from her, his tongue sliding over the waistband of her skirt. His hands were shaking; his body was shaking as he sat up, kneeling between her spread legs. He shivered despite the heat and stared down at her, mussed and open and inviting as her hips rolled again, arching up toward him in complete abandon.

He shuddered and closed his eyes, resting his hands on her knees for a moment before ignoring the faint voice in his head and letting them slide up her thighs, her skirt lifting, pooling on her pale flesh before tumbling up her stomach, the familiar glimpse of purple wrenching a sharp laugh from his lips.

She smiled at him and he was lost, and he let his fingers slide higher, curling under the waistband of the knickers and easing them down her legs. He moved to the side, ignoring the ache in his cock as it shifted with his body, intent only on stripping the damp material off of her and tossing it aside before lying down beside her.

Hermione turned her head and watched him with wide, curious, slightly apprehensive eyes. Fred smiled at her; unsure if the gesture was reassuring given that he felt as if he were on fire and about as coordinated as the lovely girl in front of him on a broom. "I want to touch you."

She nodded and he shook his head, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Pulling back, he let himself touch the tangle of dark hair just above the liquid heat that called out to him, closing his eyes as she jerked and moaned.

"I want to touch you there."

She nodded and he shook his head again, his control slipping as his fingers edged closer to the pool of heat, unable to take his hand away from her.

"I need you to say it, Hermione." His voice cracked as she touched his chest, her finger brushing over his nipple. He leaned into her and bit her lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers parting the warm flesh, wetness tickling his fingertips, his iron control melting in the pure, seductive heat of her. "Please?"

"Yes," she breathed, gasping as his hand slid down and he was touching her, his fingers on her clit, teasing the hard nub as his mouth closed over hers. His tongue invaded her as he slipped one finger down, then two, pushing them inside her with slow, shallow strokes.

Hermione broke the kiss, gasping for breath as his thumb moved over her clit and his fingers pushed deeper, his body shifting over hers, his cock pressed hard against her leg as he looked down at her. She blinked rapidly, trying to breath, her whole body straining toward him. "So beautiful," he assured her, bending his head to capture a nipple again, the simple touch of his mouth forcing a cry of pure pleasure from deep inside her.

He slid another finger inside her, bathing it in wetness as she thrust against him, her hands raking down his back, over his arms. He reached up wildly with his hand, grabbing at her wrists and guiding her hands back above her head, pinning them here.

Hermione moaned again, arching off the bed, her body offered up to him like a sacrifice. He got to his knees, releasing her hands, shifting his position to drive his fingers deeper, planting burning kisses down her stomach. His tongue traced the waistband of her skirt, the need to feel her skin against his mouth. Hermione's whole body trembled beneath him as a quick pulse shattered her, her orgasm spilling over his fingers.

He pulled back and stared down at her as his fingers continued moving inside her. He reveled in each gasp, each breathing prayer of his name. He kissed it from her lips, sliding down to thrust against her leg as his fingers continued feeling her, needing another orgasm to buffet him, needing her to come so hard, so often she couldn't remember how to even spell his brother's name.

Hermione stilled, her mouth frozen open in a silent cry until a hard shudder wracked her body and she came again, her muscles closing around his fingers, trapping them deep inside her.

Fred brushed his thumb over her clit, provoking another prolonged tremble. He waited until she'd almost relaxed, the shaking nearly subsided, before doing it again and again until she begged him to stop, too weak and too spent to afford another orgasm.

He closed his eyes, his forehead resting on Hermione's chest; her ragged, rapid breathing shaking them both.

Forcing himself to move, he rolled onto the bed, carefully easing his fingers from inside her. He turned his head and watched her breathe through parted lips, her lashes fluttering on her flushed cheeks. Without thinking he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his lips, fighting his groan as the hot scent of her pervaded his senses, the liquid proof of her arousal sliding over his tongue.

His whole body stiffened, his cock hardening impossibly more as he fought the urge to roll over, to bury his tongue inside her, to lick away all evidence of his touch so that he could start over again.

He lay there panting, his hands fisted in the covers in an effort to keep himself still. He felt Hermione move beside him, the areas of his body where she'd been pressed to hotly to him suddenly cold. He was about to open his eyes and watch her, make sure she was okay when he felt the first brush of her fingers, tentative flutters barely touching the raised fabric of the boxer-briefs that covered his cock.

His eyes snapped open and he watched her, her eyes still closed, her hand hovering hesitantly over his body. He swallowed hard as she lowered it, her palm resting on him for a moment before slowly sliding along the hard length. His hips arched off the bed and he groaned, holding her eyes as they snapped open. "Do you…should I stop? Do you want me to stop?"

He shook his head, his clear blue eyes muddled with desire as they begged her to touch him again. Her hand shook as she curved it over him again, fingertips dragging across the head before sliding down to the base. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, swallowing air, his hands clutching frantically at the duvet beneath him.

"You'll tell me if I do it wrong?" She asked quietly as she leaned down to kiss him, her eyes remaining open, her gaze intent on his face, her expression a heady mixture of curiosity and excitement.

He nodded again, sure that such a thing wasn't possible when she began running her hand over him in earnest, palm asserting just enough pressure as she slid it down his cock, fingers curved and brushing the hard flesh through the thin layer of cotton. His breathing changed, hitched and grew shallow as she reached out and touched the dark red stain of his nipple, tracing the freckles that surrounded it before scraping her nail lightly over the hard tip.

"Oh…fuck." He groaned and turned his head to the side, his hips thrusting up against her hand. "Her…Hermione."

"Stop?"

"Oh, no. Nonono. Don't stop." He reached down and grasped her wrist, guiding it over his cock, smoothing her strokes, urging her to touch him. "Don't stop."

"Like this?" She mimicked his strokes as he released her and he mewled thickly with pleasure. Her voice was breathy, weighed down with desire as she watched him with fascinated eyes. He was writhing on the bed, his hips rocking in time to her touch. "Do you like that, Fred?"

"Yes. Yes." He nodded wildly, the swirl of desire at the base of his groin pulsing hotly, painfully. He licked his dry lips and tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gasping swallow. "Don't stop. Please?"

She didn't respond for a long moment and he forced his eyes back to hers. She held his gaze, a small hungry smile on her lips as he felt her fingers brush his stomach, nails scratching through the spattering of ginger hair on his skin. She let them curl under the waistband of his shorts and his hips lifted of their own accord. She eased them over his cock, both of them breathless in her wide-eyed gaze.

Fred's chest ached from the lack of oxygen as Hermione's hot eyes burned the air from the room, the focused intensity of her stare causing his cock to jerk in response. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out and Fred groaned, closing his eyes as his hips rolled upward once more.

Hermione watched him as he settled back on the mattress, neither of them able to breathe normally, the air in the room too thick, too hot to suck into their lungs. She reached up with one hand and brushed his feathered lashes where they rested on his cheeks then let her hand slide down his chest, over his nipples, over his stomach and the silky hair that surrounded his navel, darkening lower until it was a ragged crimson around his cock. She lifted her shaking hand to settle it on the rigid flesh, crying out in surprise as Fred's hand closed around her wrist.

"Don't," he croaked.

"What?" She swallowed and repeated herself, not trusting her voice.

"Please don't." He shook his head, unable to open his eyes and look at her. "If you do, if you touch me, I won't be able to stop, Hermione." He finally met her gaze, his heart aching at the desire and concern warring in their brown depths. "If you touch me, I'll either lose control immediately or I'll bury myself inside you and, as tempting as that is, as necessary as it sounds to me right now, I can't. We can't. Not yet." He swallowed and moved her hand to her own thigh; the skirt still pushed up to the top of it where he'd forced it earlier. "I think you should go."

"You want me to go?"

"No," he laughed desperately. "I want you to stay here all night beneath me, on top of me, around me. But I think it's wisest that you get off the bed so I can get dressed and then I'll very chastely kiss you goodnight and then you'll Floo back to school."

"And then what?"

"You don't want to know what I'm going to do the second you leave, love." He closed his eyes with a laugh. "Please?"

She got off the bed as he requested, watching, still fascinated as he arched his hips off the bed and tugged his briefs back up over his cock. He searched blindly for his sweats, trying not to feel her eyes on him as the moisture that coated the head of his cock seeped through the material. He finally found them and tugged them on, not caring that they were backwards as he got to his feet.

"Now then." He rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her. "Back to school for you before you get in trouble."

"What about my kiss?" Her voice was still husky, still hungry.

"Right." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers gently, barely brushing them. She shook her head, her mouth not leaving his as her hand curved back around his cock and she opened her mouth, sliding her tongue past his lips.

Fred moaned hotly and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her hand between them as he fought for control. He finally forced her away from him, panting harshly and shaking his head. She smiled and licked her lips. "Night, Fred."

He nodded and ushered her to the fireplace, holding the floo powder jar with shaking hands. She grabbed a fistful and tossed it in the flames, looking at him for a long moment. "Night, Hermione."

"Professor Vector's office." She stepped into the flames and looked back at him just as she disappeared. "I love you."

Fred collapsed back on the bed, raking his clothes off his body and closing his hand around his cock, stroking it feverishly, her sweet, scared, honeyed voice ringing in his ears as he came.