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Relieving the Tension	By : PBG Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 11303 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Relieving the Tension
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
‘Mmm, yes, just like that.’ ‘Harder.’ ‘Perfect.’ Hermione streaked into the sky as she sailed after the snitch, hair flying behind her. Fred was on her tail, weaving for distraction.

The flying lessons were a success. Hermione felt more confident on a broom than she ever thought she could be. And she felt much more confident in her ability to mount more than a Firebolt.

Fred was the perfect instructor. Patient, understanding, and most of all, willing to do just about anything to ensure that his student had a firm grasp of the subject.

Hermione was the perfect student. Diligent and always willing to put in extra effort to perfect her technique. Half-measures would never do; until she felt sure she had mastered the matter at hand, she was ruthless in her quest for excellence.

Soaring through the pitch, Hermione trained her eyes on the snitch, using every bit of her concentration to reach forward and catch the tiny gold orb. Her hand closed over it, clutched it to her heart as she raced through her standard drill, which she used to acclimate herself to her broom and for balance. Now she went through the routine to pace her mental and physical facilities.

Fred had made the case that advanced flying skills were essential. With his prankster image, it stood to reason that his logic and planning skills were impeccable. His argument that she would need more than rudimentary flying skills, in the event she needed to defend herself against Voldemort or one of his minions, steeled her resolve to excel at flying. Once she was under Fred’s tutelage, he put all of his knowledge into making her a mistress of the sky. She’d even learned a few advanced techniques and was proud enough of her skills to participate in a game of pick-up quidditch at the Burrow over the Christmas holidays.

‘That was great, Hermione. We’ll have to let the bludgers go next time so you can practice evasion techniques.’ Fred glided over to her, his eyes merrily reflecting the lights on the pitch.

They dismounted and walked across the grounds, Fred’s arm thrown across her shoulders in a brotherly fashion. Only those closest to them knew differently.

The offer of arithmancy tutoring worked to create an alibi for their other extra curricular activities. The first night, a week after her first flying lesson, they’d met in the library. Hermione quickly figured out that Fred was more advanced in his arithmancy studies than she, even with all of her extra credit work and projects.

‘I thought you needed help in arithmancy!’ she exclaimed, feeling a bit put out that he wasn’t making, in her mind, an even trade of services.

‘Did you really think I would have agreed to tutoring if we were actually going to study?’ His eyes twinkled as he leaned over to whisper, ‘but it does give us a reason to be seen together, alone, in the evenings.’

It was a great alibi. They would put in an appearance at the library (being sure that Madam Pince saw them enter but not exit) before sneaking away for a lust-filled shagging session. Fred, of course, knew all the best places (‘never go to the astronomy tower, unless you’d like the entire school watching’) and some that Hermione was certain even Harry and Ron were unaware of.

During the next few months, despite the fact that she was spending much less time on actual studying, Hermione’s grades remained at their usual level. Truth be told, her scores in potions had actually improved beyond her typical one hundred and one percent. The greatest change was that she was able to retain information much more readily, as if opening her body to new experiences freed her mind as well.

Other learning experiences took place as well, and had nothing to do with accepted courses of study at Hogwarts. She found out that nothing made her hotter and wetter than dirty talk. Fred made use of it often; he would work her up to the point that she would often orgasm the moment he entered her, and again before he finished. She let go of her anxiety (what did it say about her that she went off like a rocket when she heard the word ‘fuck’?) with every meeting. The brief internal struggle was well worth the great sex and good mood that her several rendezvous with Fred garnered.

Even Ron and Harry, kings of oblivion, noticed the subtle change in their friend. Although she was spending as much time in the library as ever, she was noticeably absent on the evenings before exams, to the point that the two thought they’d fail their O.W.L.s outright. Eventually they gave up questioning her about her new attitude; all she would do was smile and say, ‘you’ll get over it.’

Things did get tense as the date for Hermione’s O.W.L.s grew closer. Fred was studying for his N.E.W.T.s and apparating license, and working hard with his brother on their planned joke shop. Hermione was reviewing the test subjects and helping Harry and Ron prepare, which looked to be more of a hopeless case than she imagined.

Nearly a month went by without any sexual release, and the pressure weighed heavily on Hermione. She and Fred still met for her flying lessons, but there were others practicing for O.W.L.s, which rendered the broom shed useless. Fred winked at her from across the room whilst they studied, so she would know he wasn’t avoiding her, but that time was merely stretched thin for the two of them.

Not that Fred had any intention of letting the school year end without at least one more encounter with the sexy Gryffindor girl. Sure, there were girls more beautiful in their house, but their charms paled in comparison to Hermione’s passionate nature. Underneath the prim and proper exterior lay a hot-blooded young woman whose sensual appetites rivaled his own. She was ready, eager for each of their encounters. There was no coquettishness about his little brother’s best friend; she was open about what pleased her.

Initially he feared she’d mistake his attention for interest in pursuing a romantic relationship, but he needn’t have worried. Hermione seemed no more interested in handholding than he. They laughed together and were fast friends aside from their more carnal interest in each other. He made her laugh and provided an incisive interpretation of the world Hermione rarely received from other students. Being a prankster meant carefully observing people to determine their point of weakness before exploiting it. That level of quick analysis challenged Hermione to pause and think before speaking, and to not allow petty things to upset her.

She was, in a strange way, a motivational force for him. The public boundaries of their relationship didn’t change, but he noticed her more than he had previously. Unfettered abandon was the term that came to mind when he thought about her approach to every facet of life. Hermione had no outward insecurities, although Fred knew that her muggle-born heritage drove her to those one hundred and thirty percent scores. Her prim and proper façade disappeared when she was with him, and he enjoyed nothing so much as to see her let go, utterly unable to reign in her reactions. Early on he, in a moment of excitement, hit upon her hot button: dirty talk. Whispering a few creative phrases in the library virtually guaranteed a lusty reaction. Fred was glad that he could recollect those hidden trysts and grin secretively at knowing a Hermione no one else did.

A few weeks without time alone seemed like an eternity for both of them. Hermione was tense and snippy; Fred reread page after page without a shred of comprehension. Ron was the one who reached the end of his tether with Hermione.

‘‘Mione, I think you need a break,’ he said the afternoon before O.W.L.s were to begin. ‘You aren’t helping us or yourself. Look at you,’ he gestured to her chewed quill, ‘You’re a basket case. Go out and get some fresh air. There isn’t extra credit on the O.W.Ls anyway.’ Ron fielded a glare from Harry, who wanted Hermione to quiz him on second-year potions ingredients.

‘You could probably use some more practice for the flying portion,’ Ron suggested.

He was most likely right, she thought, and left to take her books and papers to her bedroom before heading outside.

From his seat in the far corner, Fred watched Hermione collect her things and head upstairs. He’d finished his reviews, as he couldn’t see how a few more hours studying subjects he had no intention of using ‘ really, had History of Magic benefited any wizard aside from Percy? - and spent his afternoon talking shop with George. They were very close to buying a small storefront in Hogsmeade with money they’d made betting on Quidditch games. He motioned toward Hermione’s retreating back.

‘Think I’ll go help her with a final lesson,’ he remarked to George as he made his way to his feet. George smirked knowingly.

‘Going to have her polish the old broomstick in return? Don’t blame me if you’re too knackered to take your N.E.W.T.s tomorrow, you randy bastard.’ He laughed, dodging a pillow. He met Fred’s grin. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.’

‘That’s only because I have enough evidence to keep the school from gifting you with your letters,’ Fred threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

A soft knock on the door roused Hermione from the edge of her bed, where she had been thinking through a few arithmancy problems. She looked up to see Fred stepping over the threshold. He looked quite handsome in a fresh green jumper and black trousers, and she smiled distractedly up at him.

‘Did anyone see you come up here?’

‘Only George, I think. Everyone knows I’ve been giving you flying lessons, anyway. I’m here again to offer my services.’

‘I think I’d fall off directly if I tried to mount at the moment,’ she breathed as Fred pulled her to her feet. ‘I’m just ready to drop.’

‘Want to turn up a bit here?’ he said, dropping a kiss in the crook of her neck. She allowed her head to fall back as the tingles ran along her nerves.

‘We really shouldn’t. Not here,’ her weak protest was ignored as Fred found yet another erogenous zone. Hermione moaned softly.

Fifteen minutes later, they were entwined in Hermione’s bed, both of them sweaty, panting, and unsatisfied. Hermione wondered if she should tell Fred not to wait, that it wasn’t going to happen, to go on without her. She wasn’t even close.

‘You’re not even close, are you?’ he asked.

She put her head on his shoulder and nodded. ‘It’s okay. You can get something out of it.’

‘Like hell. What’s wrong?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, and he rolled them to one side so they lay facing each other on the damp sheets.

It wasn’t Fred’s fault. He was as thoroughly competent as he’d been on every other occasion. It was her. She was embarrassed. She was hot and sweaty and she could feel her hair frizzing in the close quarters of the dormitory and she knew she looked awful. She felt the stress of the days rise with Fred’s breath and press between them. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t important, she wasn’t getting anywhere at this rate.

‘Don’t apologize.’ He brushed back a curl stuck to her cheek. ‘Thinking that much about tomorrow, huh?’ He moved against her to bring her closer, and her nerves tingled.

‘Maybe we should just go ahead out to the pitch,’ she said, and moved back from him, and he followed her to stay inside her; she shivered under his hands.

‘Maybe we should give it another try,’ he said as she shivered again. ‘At least one place is still interested,’ he said as he kissed along the damp curve of her neck and shoulder. A shuddering breath escaped her lips and she moved against him without thinking. ‘That always works.’

‘It’s not working as well as it usually does,’ Hermione said. ‘It’s not you. I’m distracted because of the tests tomorrow. It’s not your fault.’

‘Quit being so understanding. It isn’t doing much for my ego.’

‘Your ego is in great shape,’ Hermione remarked dryly. ‘Along with the rest of you. Could we go ahead with a flying lesson, please?’

‘No.’ Fred kissed her neck again, and she trembled and said, ‘Stop i

‘See?’ he said in her ear, which caused her to tremble more. ‘We’re making headway.’

Normally his double entendres made her laugh, but this time she tried to squirm away. He rolled and pinned her underneath him. He was heavy and sweaty which might have been a turn-off, but her body rubbed up against his and she bit her lip and closed her eyes as he slid deeply into her.

‘You can think about this tomorrow when you’re waiting for your aerial skills test,’ Fred said teasingly.

‘Get off of me.’ Hermione tried to roll him off her, but he pressed his hips down on her, and she arched up, involuntarily, because it felt so good.

‘So what do you think about when you’re taking your exams? What helps you to relax and focus? What do you imagine?’

‘I don’t think about anything.’

‘Liar. You sit in Flitwick’s class thinking of all the dirty things we’ve been doing in his classroom after hours.’ He rolled over so she was on top, his naked body sliding slickly under hers. Hermione flushed.

‘Fucking on his desk.’ he said, his voice rough as he rocked up into her, his hands on her hips, and she gasped and said, ‘Never. That’s depraved.’

‘And you love the fact that no one would guess that the future Head Girl earned her title one night in the Great Hall.’

‘You’re just as complicit as I am.’ She froze when she heard voices on the landing leading up to the Prefects’ room. ‘Shhh.’

‘Why?’ Fred said in her ear, sounding amused. ‘It’s just Katie and Angelina.’

‘Did you lock it?’

‘I forgot.’ She tried to pull away from him, but he rolled and trapped her again, making her gasp. ‘Stop it,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Let me get my wand. I’m not even sure it’s closed all the way. Let me lock it and we can keep going.’

‘Bothers you, does it?’ Fred started on her neck again as he ground against her, and Hermione felt her blood run hot.

‘No,’ she lied.

‘They could walk in anytime.’ He bit her earlobe, and she shuddered under him as her breath whooshed out. ‘Walk right in and find us naked.’ He slid his hand up to her breast, and she moved against his rhythm. ‘Find you naked. With me inside you. Nothing you could do about it.’

Hermione gasped and said, ‘Stop it,’ and he said, ‘No, I think we’re getting somewhere.’

She squirmed under him to get away, and their bodies slid together. He said, ‘Oh, yes, do that,’ and she smacked him on the shoulder, trying to dislodge him, and arched into him at the same time because he was so hard moving inside her and he felt so good.

‘Maybe I can get somebody else to open that door,’ he said in her ear, and she said, ‘No!’ a lot louder than she intended because it was part moan. She heard Katie Bell, who was a seventh-year prefect and one of her roommates say, ‘Hermione?’ from the landing, and she tensed. Fred laughed at her, his face as sweaty as hers.

Katie called her name again, and Fred said, ‘Perfect.’ He rocked higher into her and she bit her lip to keep from moaning and moaned anyway. He jerked the curtains until they couldn’t shield the entwined couple from the door.

‘Louder,’ he said, and she shook her head wildly as the friction built to a perfect pullthrustpull.

‘Then it’s up to me,’ He was getting winded. ‘The wizard always has to do everything.’ She rubbed her breasts to his lightly haired chest, just to feel the rough and the slip. Then she looked up and saw him holding her Remembrall.

‘I’ll buy you a new one,’ he said, and threw it against the wall.

‘What are you doing?’ she screamed as it splintered against the walls, the sound of shattering glass echoing in the room.

Katie called up, ‘Hermione?’ and Fred moved again, thrusting harder, and she shuddered under him and groaned, ‘Stop it.’

‘When you’re this close? Never.’ He was moving faster, and she clutched his shoulders and breathed hard as she started up the final stretch.

She said, ‘We are—not—close,’ and he rolled across her again, creating a wonderful friction in just the right place.

He picked up her arithmancy book, and when she realized what he was doing, she shrieked, ‘No!’ just as he threw it into the pile of Remembrall shards.

‘Hermione?’ Katie called, and started up the stairs, shooing Angelina back.

Fred said, ‘This is it,’ and moved high into her, grabbing her wrists and holding them over her head, sliding hot and hard on top of her, inside of her, whispering that Katie’d catch them, any minute, any minute, any second, now, now, now, and Hermione twisted underneath him, caught in the heat and thrusts and the panic and the rod he was pounding into her, and then Katie said, ‘Hermione?’ and pushed open the door, and Hermione cried, ‘Oh, gods,’ and came so hard she very nearly blacked out.

‘Oh,’ said Katie, and shut the door.

Hermione only peripherally heard Katie go down the stairs. The rest of her was consumed by the aftershocks of what she’d just experienced. And how she was going to kill Fred Weasley once he let go of her wrists and she was done shivering with ecstasy. As she finished the thought, he let her go, burying his face in her pillow.

‘You pervert,’ she said a short time later.

‘You loved it,’ he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

‘I can’t believe you did that.’

‘I can’t believe you forced me to do that!’

Fred put his arm across her chest and pulled her to him, his face still in the pillow. ‘Did you not have the most incredible orgasm of your life?’

She glared at the ceiling, trying to ignore his warm arm and the frissions of pleasure still coursing through her veins. ‘Yes.’

‘Did you like it?’

She threw his hand off her and sat up, bending over to retrieve her clothes from the floor next to the bed. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘So why have we been shagging most of the term?’

She ignored him and dressed, angry that her body was still trembling enough to make the task difficult.

‘I’m leaving to practice.’

He brought his face out of the pillow and crawled to her on his knees. He kissed her damp hair.

‘Discovery fantasy. I thought you might enjoy it.’

‘I do not have discovery fantasies,’ Hermione said. ‘That’s perverse.’

‘And you loved every second of it.’

She huffed and left the room, brushing by Katie with a muttered, ‘Talk to you later?’ to which Katie smiled and replied, ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

That made her feel a bit better, but she was still royally corked with Fred for bringing other people into their private goings-on. The last thing she needed was for a rumor to circulate about her sex life. There were many things at stake for her. He was ready to leave school; she still had two more years under the watchful eye of her classmates, some of whom were more jealous than others.

By the time she got to the broom shed, she’d worked herself into a fine rage. She grabbed a broom and stalked to the pitch. Going through the warm-up drills, she pushed herself faster and higher than was usual, or strictly safe. How dare Fred jeopardize her reputation like that? He, by virtue of his sex, could waltz around shagging anything he wanted, but common knowledge of her dalliances could put her Head Girl hopes in peril. But, were they really doing anything more dangerous than their previous encounters? In the Gryffindor dormitories, they were among friends, which was more than she could say about the night they’d gone at it in an abandoned dungeon. Or any of the other places, barely hidden, they’d gone when they didn’t want to look for more privacy. With a jolt, Hermione realized how Fred knew she would react the way she did earlier. Those encounters in deserted doorways and open areas were very exciting for her, and she was sure Fred had picked up on that, and used it to his advantage tonight.

She was a pervert.

Hermione was high above the pitch, circling aimlessly as she rehashed the past few months. It did make sense. The thought did nothing to quell her residual anger. Warm spring rain began to fall, and she brushed back her wet hair and swooped toward the clouds. Reckless, to be sure, but when Hermione Granger was angry, she rarely took heed or caution. She was concentrating so intently on the various ways she would make Fred Weasley suffer that she didn’t see the object of her murderous musings flying toward her.

‘Hermione!’ His voice was so close in her ear that she started violently and lost her handhold on the broom. Instantly she grabbed the handle and swung it back under her. Fred circled up to her, his face angry and sinister in the rapidly darkening evening. ‘Excuse my French, but what the fuck are you doing?! You’re going to get yourself killed, you twit!’

‘Fuck off.’ She turned her broom away. A crack of lightening burst in front of her, and at the same time Fred lunged to grab her broomstick. Her eyes shot to his with both fear and defiance. However, Fred spoke first.

‘Push straight down and land,’ he said deliberately, then, ‘do it, unless you want to be instant toast,’ when she shook her head.

‘The Forbidden Forest is below us,’ she said. ‘We need to get back to the grounds.’

‘No time.’ Fred leaned over and began to guide her broom along with his. They descended slowly into the tree line. Having recovered from the shock of the storm and her near fall, she jerked her broom away from him.

‘I can take it from here.’ Her voice was colder than the rain soaking their light cloaks. That tone pissed off Fred to no end. The second his feet hit the rain-slick forest floor he rounded on her. ‘What were you on about, flying like a crazy person in the rain? Damn lucky I knew where you went, else no one would have thought about looking for your charred arse.’ He leaned against a thick elm tree, water streaming down his face. He really did look handsome, muscular and wet and hair dripping. It riled her even more.

‘Harry and Ron knew where I went. And I don’t appreciate that fact that you fancy yourself as some white knight, coming out to rescue me! I would have been fine.’

‘Oh, you would have been fine, would you? You didn’t even have a clue that a true storm was moving in!’ He was shouting now over the heavy beat of the rain.

‘Look, let’s just get back to the castle, okay? We shouldn’t be in here anyway.’

‘It’s raining too hard. Better to stay here than to wander around and get lost.’

‘You can stay, I’m leaving.’ Hermione picked up her broom and stalked away from Fred, who was angrier than ever. He couldn’t believe that she’d made it this far in life with such a lack of common sense.

‘Um, Hermione?’

‘What?’ She threw a cold glance at him over her shoulder.

‘The way out is that way,’ he said, thumbing over his shoulder.

Her shriek of frustration was clearly heard amid the din. Hermione started back, but Fred stepped into the center of the path, blocking her way with his bulk. She tried to push him aside, but he crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her.

‘This is too good an opportunity to miss,’ he said, grinning even more broadly down at her.

Hermione was having none of it. She was still ticked at Fred for the stunt he’d pulled in her dormitory and that he’d chastised her for what was, admittedly, stupid behavior. As if he’d never done anything without thinking.

‘Oh no, I’m going back to the castle. You can stay out here and wank all you want,’ she stated, trying to squeeze between Fred and a large fir tree, both of which were unyielding.

‘Let me by.’

The rain was still pouring down, and under the canopy of the trees, it was very nearly black, with the light rapidly diminishing. She pushed harder on Fred’s side, trying to dislodge him. ‘Move!’

They hadn’t touched lips since their very first night in the broom shed; neither saw it necessary, given that there were many other erogenous zones to explore.

Hermione forgot what a great, earth-shattering kisser Fred was. He turned and swooped down on her unerringly, trapping her against the giant fir and plundering her mouth thoroughly. She pushed against his wet body, but he wrapped his arms around her and jerked her tighter to his chest.

He was aroused, she realized from inside the fog her thoughts had become, and so was she. A part of her wanted to tear herself away and run angrily back to the castle. The other, more carnal part of her wanted him hot and hard inside her. She forced her hands up through the tight circle of his. Fred backed off, breaking the kiss.

‘Sor-’ his words were cut off by Hermione’s lips and tongue twining with his. Her arms snaked around his head, pulling him down.

Hermione had sorely missed out on the kissing techniques of Fred Weasley. He kissed her as though he was starving for a taste of her. She could barely keep up; her only other experiences had been the few minutes in the broom shed and a few sloppy kisses shared with Victor Krum when he dropped her off at the common room after the Ball last year. This hungry, powerful tasting was new to her understanding; another myth put to rest by the skillful instruction of Fred Weasley.

Fred was having a hard time refraining from ripping Hermione’s clothes off. During the course of their argument, he noticed how absolutely adorable Hermione looked in her furious state. He’d heard the phrasing before, but assumed that whoever had coined it had been a glutton for punishment. Angry women tended to throw things, and he didn’t intend to be left alone in the Forbidden Forest nursing sore gonads. But he could tell Hermione was only angry that she’d forced him to treat her as a child, and she knew good and bloody well why he did it.

It turned him on like a Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center.

Her lips were petal soft and smooth, and tasted like fresh rainwater, which was no surprise. Underneath was a tinge of berry-like sweetness, and he sucked her lower lip into his mouth for a lingering taste of it. Hermione’s gasp of indignation turned into a mewl of pleasure, opening her mouth to welcome the intrusion of his tongue.

She pushed her forearms up between them and Fred had no choice but to break the contact. He couldn’t see her face in the dark, but he assumed he’d mucked things up again.

Then Hermione pulled him down by the nape of the neck and kissed him so passionately he went momentarily lightheaded. She took control, kissing him hungrily, sliding her small tongue over his teeth.

Her hands deftly unclasped the frog of his cloak and brushed it aside, leaning into the steamy warmth of his body. Fred groaned into her mouth, then undid her cloak. Her breasts pressed into his chest, nipples rock hard from the wet and chill. Unthinking, he pinned her to the tree trunk and ground his hips to hers forcefully, making it clear what he wanted.

Hermione tore her mouth away and panted, ‘yes, do that. More,’ in response to the intense sensations of their gyrating hips. Fred tongued her neck, licking and biting as their hips undulated madly, intensifying the friction. The back and forth and round and round was in perfect rhythm with Hermione’s flesh, and she cried out sharply, bucking stiffly with the unexpected orgasm. Fred held her close until her trembling subsided and he could be reasonably sure he would not end up crossing the finish line as well. It was rather messier when he was clothed.

‘Great gods,’ he whispered in her ear, the warm rushing air shivering along her nerve endings.

‘Sorry.’

‘Gods, that was incredible! Don’t apologize.’ Fred pulled his shirttails from his trousers and unbuttoned his fly, exposing his engorged rod. Hermione ran her hand up the length, and he hissed a breath. ‘Fuck me,’ she said. ‘Do it.’

The sound of those words coming from her lips was pure fire. He very nearly lost control again, held himself in check. If she wanted it, she would get it.

He roughly pulled down her panties and forced her skirt up just high enough to allow him access. Once she spread her legs far enough apart, he pushed roughly into her, knowing she would be hot and wet and ready.

Hermione didn’t disappoint. His violent pumping pushed her cloaked back into the uneven bark of the tree, and she locked her ankles around his waist. Braced against the tree with her shoulders, Fred grasped her buttocks and drove forcefully into her. In the total privacy of the forest, Hermione’s gasping cries mingled with Fred’s low-pitched ones.

Fred held tightly to his libido. Hermione’s pussy was contracting hotly around him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out before he blew his load. He pushed her hips back to the tree and rammed himself into her, his body crushed against hers.

‘Oh fuck, fuck, yes, yessss’’ Hermione came like a tidal wave, the grinding power of his weight launching her over the edge. A long, deep-throated groan followed soon after, as Fred, driven wild by her abandon, shot deep inside her.

The rain had nearly stopped and the sky was lightening to show it was nearing twilight. Minutes passed, however, before either of them realized it. The sloughing sound of their breathing was all they sensed.

‘Are you okay to stand up?’ Fred whispered. Hermione nodded against his shoulder and slid to the ground. He didn’t miss the wince of pain that crossed her features.

‘Hermione, I didn’t mean to be so rough,’ he tilted her chin until she was looking him full in the face. She shook her head lightly.

‘I loved it. Gods, that was good.’ She laughed lightly. ‘C’mon, give me hug. You didn’t do any lasting damage, though I may walk a bit funny for the rest of the night.’

He returned her laugh, and her hug. The rain had stopped. They used drying charms on their hair and clothes before grabbing their brooms and heading out of the forest.

It was just after nightfall when the two of them reached the broom shed on the far side of the pitch. Fred chucked their brooms inside and closed the door. He looked down into Hermione’s glowing face and kissed her softly, more brotherly than anything else.

‘I think this is it,’ he murmured.

‘Well, it’s not like we’ll never see each other,’ Hermione said, her light tone warring with the sudden prick of tears behind her eyes. Fred grinned at her.

‘Yeah, when Percy’s livening up the Christmas conversation with cauldron bottoms, I can sit back and imagine what you look like completely naked.’

‘You’ve never seen me completely naked,’ she said saucily.

He opened the front door of the castle for her, and then said casually, ‘there’s something you don’t know about the prefect bathrooms.’

She stopped and whirled around in shock, but burst out laughing at his look of pure mischief.

‘Well,’ she said, her eyebrow quirking but a fraction as he fell in step with her, ‘if I’d known that, I’d have given you a show you’d never forget.’ She didn’t even look back at Fred’s incredulous expression as she gave the password and disappeared into the Gryffindor common room.

Women, he thought as he followed her through. He never would understand them.

A/N: Credit to Jennifer Crusie, who inspired the ‘discovery fantasy’. It is used with permission.
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Relieving the Tension