A Dance

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Story Notes:
“Why’d you marry that obnoxious git?”

“If you insist on insulting my husband, I will be forced to dance with someone else,” Hermione warned with a teasing smile as Fred rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t answer my question, I see,” he pointed out with a smile. “That bloke doesn’t deserve you. You’re far too good for him, you know. He‘s a right lucky bastard.”

“I know,” she sighed dramatically, her eyes flashing with amusement. “But what can I say? I’ve always been fond of lost causes.”

“You, my dear, are a tease,” he said as he twirled her around the dance floor, careful not to run into any of the other guests.

“Who? Me?” She smiled innocently, her laugh anything but innocent as she managed to sway out of his arms.

“Yes, you.” Fred took her hand and twirled her as the final notes of the song played. His hand moved along her back as the music changed, becoming slower, more romantic. She stepped towards him, her curly brown hair falling over her shoulder as she moved into his arms. Movement to his right caught his attention. Looking up, he glared at Neville when the man came dared approach them to steal her away. When the younger wizard quickly hurried past them, looking like a scared rabbit, he couldn‘t resist a smirk.

“That was rude,” Hermione said primly. “You have all ready had your dance, Fred Weasley. This is my wedding and that means I must mingle and dance with others. People might begin to talk.”

“We’ve not finished our discussion, Hermione Granger.” He pulled her closer, not caring a knut if anyone found it inappropriate to be dancing with the bride in such a way. “I want to know why you married that undeserving prat.”

“It’s not Granger anymore, as you well know,” she said dryly. “As for why I got married, I told you. I have a soft spot for lost causes.”

“You could have had anyone so why him?”

“I think anyone is far too generous. Perhaps he is the only one who wanted me.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” His voice lowered as his hand rested on her lower back, his other brushing a stray curl from her cheek and tucking it behind her ear. “Why him?”

“I love him,” she smiled as she thought of her new husband.

“He’s not a lovable guy at all ,” Fred muttered as she moved her hand across his broad shoulders.

“You’re wrong. He’s extremely lovable,” she defended as they swayed to the music. “He’s quite handsome and far smarter than he wants people to realize.”

“He is not,” he argued. “I’ll grant that he’s a handsome fellow but he’s not near smart enough for you.”

“You really must stop provoking me, Fred,” Hermione threatened. “I find him very intelligent. He’s bright and has the ability to think of solutions to problems quickly without resorting to research or burying his head in books so maybe I’m the one that isn’t good enough for him.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” Fred shook his head as he moved their bodies, hers falling away from his in a deep dip, his arm holding her weight as his eyes moved over the contour of her neck to the swell of her breasts that the material of her wedding robes displayed perfectly. When he pulled her straight, she was laughing, happiness evident in the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“No I’m not.” She moved her arm back around his shoulders, her fingers playing with the red hair that was brushing against the nape of his neck. “You really shouldn’t say such things, Fred.”

“Why not?” He took her free hand, holding it tightly as they swayed until they were at the edge of the dance floor. “You know that I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, Hermione.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered, her eyes quickly darting around the room to see if anyone was watching them. “This isn’t the time or the place.”

“Your husband is a very lucky man,” he said quietly. “He loves you, you know? Even if he rarely says the words, he does.”

“I know.” Hermione’s fingers drifted into his thick red hair, her heart racing as he brought their joined hands to his mouth, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the finger bearing her new ring. “I love him, too.”

“He knows.” Fred looked at her then, smiling sheepishly. “He may not understand why you chose him but he’s smart enough to hold you tight and never let you go.”


“Promise,” he said before his lips caught hers in a tender but passionate kiss.

“That’s enough of that!” A loud voice interrupted them. George laughed when they parted and glared at him. “There will be plenty of time for snogging on the honeymoon so stop growling at me baby brother. I’m planning on stealing your bride for a dance. Mrs. Weasley, may I?”

“Don’t look at me,” Hermione laughed when Fred glared at his twin before giving her a petulant look. “He’s your brother.”

“I knew we should have eloped,” Fred muttered as he reluctantly released his wife, his lips curving into a loving smile as he watched her playfully scold George as they began dancing. “I’m definitely the luckiest git in the world.”

The End