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Hermione stepped out of her shorts and folded them before setting them at the base of an old oak tree. She stripped off her t-shirt and gazed at the night sky, sighing contentedly. The moon was nearly full and no clouds were blocking the canvas of stars, allowing the pond to be a shimmering mirror. With a quick flick of her wand, the water lilies started to softly glow as they danced over the ripples of the water.
She dropped her wand on top of her pile of clothing and walked to the end of the dock. Since the end of the war, this part of The Burrow had become her little nighttime sanctuary. After several weeks of fitful sleep, Hermione had taken to nighttime wanderings. One evening she came across the pond and couldn’t resist stripping down and diving in. After her swim, she had been able to stretch out on the grass and actually sleep. Since then, she looked forward to when everyone had retired for the evening and she could slip away.
Hermione dove in and swam along the pond floor, running her hands through the soft grass until her lungs demanded air. Breaking the surface, she wiped the water from her eyes and nose and then brushed her hair out of her face. She lazily floated on her back, listening to the lap of the water at the shore and the symphony of crickets, with the occasional hoot of a far-off owl joining in.
The snap of a twig and hissed curse of, “Ow, dammit!” pulled Hermione from the tranquil moment.
She instantly summoned her wand and sunk down until just her eyes were sitting on the water. There was a string of incoherent muttering before a silhouette limped into view. Hermione let herself relax and sent her wand back to the base of the tree.
“Fred?” Hermione called.
“Hermione?” Fred Weasley reached the bank of the pond, finally coming into full view. He was leaning heaving on his cane and looked to be breathing heavily.
“Are you alright?”
“My shitty leg got caught on a root.”
Hermione frowned. After being nearly crushed in the final battle, Fred’s left leg suffered significant nerve damage. With physical therapy, it was actually healing better than expected but for a man that had trouble staying still it wasn’t healing quick enough.
“What on earth are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m swimming.”
“I can see that much. I saw you slip out of the house and got worried, so I followed you.” Fred made his way over to the tree. When he spotted Hermione’s clothes, he quickly looked between her and the clothes and then back at her again. “What are you swimming in?”
“The water,” Hermione smirked.
“Smart arse,” Fred muttered. “I mean, what are you wearing?”
Smirk still in place, Hermione answered, “Absolutely nothing. Wanna join me?”
Fred’s eyes went wide. He went to say something but then quickly closed his mouth. After a few rapid blinks, he said, “I, uh, don-, er, you know, it’s, uh, probably shouldn’t. With my leg and all.”
Hermione savoured the moment. It wasn’t often that she was able to render Fred a stuttering mess. “On the contrary, the water would help take some of the pressure off of it.”
“So, I’m just supposed to strip down and jump in?”
“That’s the general gist. It’s quite refreshing.”
Fred shook his head. “I’ve seen enough Muggle films to know that as soon as I’m naked and in the water, you’ll pop up in some strapless suit and run off with my clothes.”
Hermione sighed and swam towards the bank. When her feet could touch the ground, she stood and threw out her arms, giving Fred a full view of her body. His hand slipped off the cane, letting it hit the grass with a soft thud.
“Well?” she called.
“Turn around,” Fred called back.
“What?!”
“Turn around,” he repeated.
“I hardly think this is fair,” Hermione grumbled but turned around as requested and swam back out to the middle of the pond. While she waited, a water lily floated by and she reached out to tickle its soft petals. Behind her, there was a splosh of water as Fred waded in.
“You’re free to look now.”
Hermione laughed as she turned around and watched Fred glide towards her. “You get to see me but I don’t get to see you?”
“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” He came to a stop, treading water, and grinned at her.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“I’m actually quite surprised. This is not typical Hermione Granger behaviour.”
Hermione couldn’t help the annoyance that washed over her face. “Yeah? What is ‘typical Hermione Granger behaviour’ then?”
Fred’s face fell. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. It’s just when I think of you, I don’t think skinny dipping.”
“Let me guess,” she said, pushing herself backwards. “You think of a quiet know-it-all who likes nothing more than reading, knitting, and making sure everyone follows the rules. Did I miss anything?”
Fred stayed in place, watching her float around him. “How the hell did we go from you talking me out of my clothes to this? Whatever this is…”
Hermione let out a frustrated growl and dove back under the water. She wasn’t really upset with Fred but she felt like people mainly saw her as some boring stick in the mud. To be fair, she had spent several years earning that reputation but she was ready to shed her skin. If the last year had taught her anything it was that there are some rules that need to be broken, especially ones she had saddled her younger self with.
And Fred was the last person she wanted to be picking a fight with. Getting to know him, on the other side of the war, had been eye-opening. She used to think he was a cute yet careless boy with misplaced confidence. But the man she knew now was anything but careless. Kindness and tenacity practically radiated off of him. Despite his injury, Fred was still able to find humour in the aftermath of their journey to hell and back. Hermione never thought it possible but the more she knew about him, the harder she fell.
When her breath ran out, she rose back up and found Fred patiently watching her from the same spot she had left him. He swam over to her and she took in a slow breath before saying, “I’m sorry. I might be sorting out feelings from the past year and wrongly projected some of them onto you.”
Fred gave her a soft smile. “I get it. Are you done, though? Because I’d like to answer your question.”
“What question?”
“You asked if you missed anything and, love, you missed a lot of things.”
Hermione steeled her face and nodded. “Let’s hear it, Weasley.”
Fred cocked an eyebrow. “Alright, Granger. First off, you’re not a know-it-all. You’re intelligent and should be fucking proud of that. Your brilliance is one of the reasons we’re still here. Merlin knows where we’d be if all we had to rely on was the blind courage of dumb luck Potter.”
“You know your sister is on track to be Mrs Dumb Luck Potter, right?”
“Irrelevant. You mentioned reading. That goes with intelligence. Do you need a refresher on that?” Fred asked and Hermione rolled her eyes. “Knitting. I think being able to knit is awesome. You’re creative and talented. To be able to take a lump of string and turn it into a jumper? That’s fucking magic.”
Hermione was starting to worry her blush was brighter than the moon.
“And you’re joking with the rule-following right? I know you broke every school rule at least once.”
“I don’t know about every—”
“Hermione, you used a Time-Turner to free a convicted felon and a condemned hippogriff. You kept Rita Skeeter in a jar like a pet. You formed an underground resistance full of teenagers, ready and willing to overthrow the government! You follow rules that are just and fair and any that aren’t get chucked to the centaurs.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as tears prickled the corners of her eyes. “I also set Snape on fire.”
“You also set—wait, what? You did not!” Fred’s eyes practically bugged out when Hermione nodded. “When? Why?”
“First year. Ron and I thought Snape was trying to curse Harry’s broom during his first Quidditch match. Turned out to be Quirrel doing the cursing and Snape was trying to stop it.”
“And you’re first thought was let’s set the teacher on fire?”
“We didn’t exactly have time to plan so…yeah. It worked and Gryffindor won the match.”
Fred’s grin spread across his face. “You are absolutely brilliant, Hermione Granger.”
Hermione’s smile turned shy as her already blush-stained cheeks burned hotter.
“So, what are you really doing out here, alone and naked in the middle of the night?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, um… Lately, sleep has been…difficult,” Hermione said quietly. “I’ve spent the last year being constantly on alert, looking over my shoulder and second-guessing everything. My body wants to relax but my mind won’t let it. I’ll fall asleep, hear a floorboard creak, and wake up ready to hex Ginny as she’s going to the bathroom. I—” Hermione bit her lip, fighting back her tears. “It’s hard to trust my own instincts at the moment. So I started coming out here to swim and sleep under the stars.”
“You sleep out here?” Fred's gaze was sceptical. “Don’t you get cold?”
“No, I have a little stash of blankets and magic to keep me warm. But when I’m out here, it feels like an escape from the chaos and my brain can turn off.” Hermione cringed at how that sounded. “Not that your family is chaotic. I love them all dearly, it’s just—”
Fred’s hand surfaced and he pressed a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to apologise or explain. It’s complete chaos.”
Hermione nodded and let out a slow breath. “I get overwhelmed so easily these days. Between memorials and funerals and demands for interviews…it’s hard to handle all the expectations.”
“Fuck everyone’s expectations. What do you want?”
“A lot of things,” she whispered.
Fred flicked his fingers over the water, splashing her face. “Tell me one of the things then,” he said, sending another spray of water at her.
“Are you going to stop splashing me?”
“...Maybe.” Another splash.
Fred underestimated how quick she could be because there was barely a second between realisation hitting his face and Hermione dunking him under the water. He resurfaced, coughing and spluttering. “I surrender! I surrender!” he wheezed. Hermione giggled as he ran a hand over his face and pushed his hair back. When he had regained his composure, he stared at her expectantly.
“I don’t want to go back to school,” Hermione admitted.
The thought had been plaguing her for weeks. The moment Professor McGonagall had extended the invitation it felt as though a boulder had dropped into the pit of her stomach. But it seemed like she was the only one feeling that way. Ginny was ecstatic, knowing she wouldn’t have to go back to Hogwarts without Harry. Harry was looking forward to having one last year at the only place he ever really felt at home, knowing it would finally be a year without terror lurking outside the gates. And Ron was happy to have the opportunity to put off the realities of adulthood for as long as possible.
Hermione couldn’t go back, though. The mere thought had brought on a fresh wave of nightmares. She hoped one day to go back and walk the halls again, reminiscing about the successes and adventures she’d had there. But at that moment, it all felt wrong. She didn’t want to confront the anxiety that awaited behind those doors.
“I can’t go back to Hogwarts.”
“Okay. What do you want to do instead?”
“Honestly?”
Fred huffed and threw his head back. “It’s one in the morning and I’m naked, in a pond full of Merlin knows what. Yes, honestly!”
“It feels silly, given what I just got done doing, but I want to travel,” Hermione answered.
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.” She propelled herself backwards and floated on her back, gazing up at the stars. “I want to stop worrying about what people think I should be doing. I want to pick a place and explore everything it has to offer; see the sites, eat all the food, and learn new languages. Then, after I’m done, I want to pick another place and do it all again. I don’t want to plan. I don’t want to think. I just want to go.”
There was a minute of silence before Fred’s voice floated over her. “Where are you going to go first?”
Hermione let out a deprecating laugh. “It’s just a pipe dream, Fred. I’m not actually going to do it.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I have too much to do.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, sweet lord!” Hermione tore her gaze from the sky and looked back at Fred. “I have to go back to school. I have to study and sit my N.E.W.Ts. I need to get a proper job and do my part to fix this broken world we’ve inherited!”
Fred said nothing as he slowly swam over to her. Her breath grew shallow as he inched in close and said, “Hermione, when was the last time you did anything for yourself? Can you even remember the last thing you did for the sole reason of it brought you joy?” Hermione nodded and he asked, “What was it?”
“Dancing with you at the wedding,” Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper.
Her heart was thudding so hard, she was sure Fred could hear every beat as he held her stare. There were many nights on the run when it felt like she would never find sleep. On those nights, laying in a drafty tent, Hermione would let herself get lost in the memory. She would close her eyes and could almost feel Fred’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, holding her tight, almost as if she was his to protect. Safe in his arms, the terror and anxiety would ebb away, allowing her a brief moment of respite. She knew she would only wake to find a tear-soaked pillow, but she continued to go back to that night, over and over again.
“Do what makes you happy.”
The space between them was slowly disappearing and resisting the urge to touch Fred was painful.
“There was something I wanted to do at the wedding that I never got to do,” Hermione said.
“What was that?”
“I really wanted to kiss you.”
“Mmm, our dance was rudely interrupted.”
Hermione reached out and brushed her fingertips across his freckled cheek. Fred turned his head slightly, placing a kiss on her palm. As he leaned forward, her hand glided along his cheek and into his hair.
“I really wanted to kiss you, too,” he whispered.
The tip of Fred’s nose rested against hers. With a gentle nudge, Hermione’s eyes closed and her head tipped back. When Fred placed a kiss along her jaw, she let out a soft gasp. He ran a hand over her shoulder and buried his fingers in her hair.
“Merlin, you’re beautiful,” he sighed against her neck.
She couldn’t resist any longer. Hermione pulled Fred across the final centimetre that lay between their lips. When they finally met, she moaned and melted against him. She had imagined kissing Fred numerous times and in her mind it was fantastic. But fantastic didn’t begin to describe what it truly felt like.
Kissing Fred was like finally opening a Christmas gift after having waited all year. There was elation and relief. There was contentment yet a need for more. It was like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place, bringing the whole picture together.
Kissing Fred was everything.
Fingers grappled to find purchase against wet skin, desperate not to break contact while also treading water. They finally succumbed to the inevitable when Fred’s leg cramped up. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle as he momentarily sank beneath the water.
Reemerging, he swiped a hand over his face, laughed and said, “Films make kissing in water look way easier than it is.”
Hermione grabbed his hand and started swimming backwards, pulling Fred with her. He grinned and when their feet found solid ground, his lips were right back on hers. Her hands seized on his hips and she pushed herself against him, groaning as she felt his arousal push back.
Pulling away with a gasping breath, Hermione said, “Let me get your cane.”
“I don’t want it,” Fred said, kissing her again before moving down to nip at her throat.
“But you should--”
“I don’t want it,” he insisted, licking the spot his mouth had claimed. “I only want you.”
“I want you, too,” Hermione said breathlessly. While Fred continued to pepper her neck with nips and licks, she summoned her wand and used it to spread out one of her blankets. She gently lifted Fred from her throat and kissed his lips before saying, “Come with me.”
Hermione strode ahead to the blanket and summoned four glass jars, spelling a bluebell flame into each one. Basking in the flames’ warmth, she knelt on the blanket and watched as Fred slowly approach her.
He was a gorgeous sight to behold. Lean muscles lined his body. Freckles covered his shoulders and spilt down his arms. His copper locks clung to his neck, sending rivulets of water streaming over his chest. Cloaked only in moonlight, Fred reached the edge of the blanket and smiled down at her.
“May I borrow your wand?” he asked.
Hermione nodded and passed it to him. With an elegant flick of his wrist, a cool, cleansing spell washed over her. She shivered as goose pimples prickled her skin. Fred spelt himself clean before kneeling down in front of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and resumed their kiss.
Hands and lips were given silent permission to explore. Hermione’s fingers traced the muscles and scars of his chest. As Fred trailed kisses along her collarbone, she let her hands venture further. She revelled in the soft hums against her neck as she charted the landscape of his stomach, hips, and thighs.
When Hermione took him in hand, Fred’s low, rumbling growl in her ear left her breathless. Every fibre of her body yearned to be consumed by him. She needed to feel all of him, everywhere.
“Hermione.” Fred pulled back and his lust-filled eyes met hers. “I need to know…to make sure--”
“I want this.” Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him back to her until her forehead rested against his. “I want this, with you. Right here, right now.”
Fred’s lips found hers once more as he coaxed her to lie back on the blanket. When he broke the connection, Hermione’s disappointed hum was countered with a throaty chuckle that ignited sparks over every inch of her body. Resting his weight on his forearms, Fred smiled at her and said, “I’ve wanted this, with you, for quite some time now.”
Fred took his time licking and kissing his way down her body, finding all of Hermione’s sensitive points as she writhed under him. Every part of her awoke at his touch and begged for more. There were places she never even knew she wanted to be touched until his lips found them. Hermione had never felt that way with anyone else. She wanted to give herself, entirely, to Fred.
When he rose back onto his knees, he let out a muffled yelp and fell forward onto his hands again. Hermione sat up, kissed his lips, and whispered, “Lie down.” He started to argue but she shushed him and repeated, “Lie down.”
Acquiescing to her order, Fred let himself fall back onto the blanket. Straddling his hips, Hermione stroked her hands over the plane of his chest, across his shoulders, and down his arms. Fred caught her wrists, bringing them back up and lacing his fingers with hers. With a foreign flare of confidence, Hermione rolled her hips and couldn’t hold back her delighted smile as Fred groaned and twitched against her backside. She repeated the movement several times before he grabbed her waist and stilled her body.
“I didn’t take you for such a tease,” he said, his voice low and gruff. Hermione whimpered, dripping with anticipation. Fred let go of her hands, steadying her with one and wrapping the other around his length. Ensnaring her gaze with his, he sought one last confirmation. “Hermione…?”
“Yes. Please, Fred.”
He held onto her as she lifted up and then slowly sank back down, filling herself with him. She gasped as she settled against his hips. The initial jolt of pain quickly gave way to pleasure and Hermione gave a tentative thrust. Fred moaned and his grip on her tightened. Another thrust rewarded her with another blissful moan.
Knowing she was the catalyst for those divine sounds was empowering. Hermione grinded against him, revelling in the heat that was consuming her body. She had settled into a steady rhythm when Fred started to add his own thrusts.
“Oh, gods, yes,” Hermione said breathlessly. Another snap of his hips had her digging her nails into Fred’s chest and begging, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
The heat continued to grow. She was tightening around him, each thrust fanning the flame. Hermione moaned, torn between the need for release and wanting to let the fire continue to ravage her. As if reading her mind, Fred stroked his thumb over her clit.
“I want to feel you all over me,” he said, his voice raspy and lusting.
At that simple request, Hermione gave herself up to the blaze. With piercing nails and curling toes, her core shattered and her fevered cry echoed through the night sky. Fred continued to rock against her as she rode out the waves of her climax.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Fred growled. He sat up and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. “Gorgeous, every inch of you.”
He slipped out of her and started stroking himself but Hermione nudged his hand away. As her hand glided up and down his shaft, Fred tangled his fingers in her curls and kissed her again, lips desperate and clumsy. His breathing was heavy and erratic, tickling her ear. Her grip tightened, pulling a sharp breath from Fred.
“I need—oh, fuuuuck…” he trailed off as Hermione licked and sucked at his neck. She nipped at a pulse point and smiled against his sweat-soaked skin as his body practically vibrated with his throaty growl.
“What do you need?” Hermione purred before biting his ear lobe.
“You. I need you.”
Hermione leaned back ever so slightly and stared into his eyes, a moonlit sliver of brown encircling black pools of desire. His lips, red and swollen from fresh kisses, were parted, letting soft puffs of breath flutter over her cheeks.
“You’ve got me.”
Her words broke down Fred’s walls. He stiffened for a brief moment against her palm before he arched into her and his pulsing release spilt over her hand. She drowned his gasps and moans with a hungry kiss. Fingers dug into her flesh and teeth pulled on her bottom lip but Hermione held on until his shuddering body collapsed against her.
Fred’s arms wrapped around her and Hermione buried her face in the crook of his neck. Sweet kisses peppered her shoulder as the crickets’ song soothed her heavy breathing and the gentle breeze cooled the heat radiating off them. She felt Fred’s arm fumbling to the side for a moment. He let out a triumphant hum and a cleansing spell vanished the stickiness that coated her hand.
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You’re welcome.”
She felt a wicked grin spread over her shoulder. Before she could question his devious plan, Fred fell backwards, pulling her with him. Hermione tried to hold a menacing stare but his ensuing laughter had her fall victim to her own giggles. With heroic effort, she was able to roll off of him. Letting out a sated sigh, she gazed up at the stars. Fred’s hand found hers and their fingers entwined, fitting together perfectly.
“So…”
Hermione’s head lolled to the side, mirroring Fred’s lazy smile.
“So…” she echoed.
“Where are we jetting off to first?”
“We?”
“You don’t think I’m letting you go after a shag like that, do you? ”
Travelling the world with Fred at her side? She may as well have been handed the winning lottery ticket.
“Alright, we,” she said with a smile. “Any suggestions?”
Fred propped himself up on his elbow. “Close your eyes and clear your mind.” When her eyes were shut, he continued, “We leave tomorrow and can go anywhere on Earth. Now, tell me the first place that you think of.”
“Brazil,” Hermione said instantly. She opened her eyes and Fred smiled back at her.
“We better start packing.”
Hermione leaned against the side of the villa pool, watching the early morning sunbeams shimmer over the gentle waves lapping at the Bali shore. The beach was empty save for an older couple walking through the sand as a little terrier trotted ahead of them, darting in and out of the water. As they disappeared up the coast, she felt like the only person in this little slice of paradise.
Closing her eyes, Hermione laid back and let herself float away from the poolside. The quiet mornings were her favourite part of that particular destination. The rustle of palm leaves and chirping birds accompanied the splash of the waves, waiting for the island to come to life. Soon the air would be filled with laughter, the rumble of motorbikes, and savoury spices.
A smile grew as the sound of footsteps grew louder. When she opened her eyes, Fred was standing at the edge of the pool, stifling a yawn. With a wince, he knelt down and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Swimming.”
“In what?”
“Absolutely nothing.” She pushed herself up to meet his lips for a kiss. “Wanna join me?”