Magic and Mischief | Fred x Hermione

Chapter 1: An Unfortunate Choice Of Seat

**Quick Author's Note: The first few chapters are going to feel a little slow as I try to get things set up, please stick with it! It will get better I promise!**

It was a sunny afternoon in the Burrow, the sun shining merrily through a large bay-style window. 

Fred Weasley had taken a seat in his favorite, (though rather lumpy) green chair, determined to absorb as much summer laziness as he possibly could before the start of term in the next few weeks. He grumbled at the thought of the summer break ending.

Bloody school, mom can't honestly expect me and George to put up with this for two more years, he thought as he sighed, closing his brown eyes against a ray of offending light from the drifting curtains, which were teasing him by lifting and lowering themselves periodically. 

Even despite their pestering, he found himself slinking deeper into the chair, nodding off as the wind blew a soothing melody through the open back door.

"Fred! Fred, get up, exciting news!" A voice called. He jolted slightly, having just been dreaming up a new recipe for he and Fred's relatively new business idea, "The Weasley Wizard Wheezes". Was it Whistling wontons? Or was it wild-haired whoppers?

"Bollocks," Fred breathed, his train of thought slipping away.

"What was that I heard? I will not have any of that language in this house," a shrill voice cried, Molly Weasley rounding a corner. Her voice immediately lost its harsh tone, however, as she neared him clutching a white envelope, bobbing up and down in a skipping gait, her round cheeks pink with excitement.

"Your father has just given me the most exciting news, we've got tickets for the Quidditch world cup!" She exclaimed.

Enough said, Fred thought, leaping out of his chair, the motion startling the waving curtains back into position.

He pumped his fist straight up into the air, ran over to plant an enthusiastic kiss on Mrs. Weasley's cheek, and dashed off to find George.

One week later found the Weasley's all together around the scrubbed wooden dining table, enjoying a large dinner the night before they were to depart for the World Cup. Hermione and Harry had joined them for the festivities, Mr. Weasley having scored tickets for all of them via his ministry connections. 

Harry's retrieval had been a rather messy affair involving a blocked fireplace from their floo travel, a cold goodbye from Harry to his host family, the Dursley's, and an "accidental" slip of Fred and George's latest invention, the Ton tied toffee to Dudley Dursley. 

All was soon forgotten, however, as the past few days had been full of bets, widespread speculation about the nature of the festivities, and of course unbridled anticipation to see some of the most famous quidditch stars in the world in action. They were all in radiant moods, each member of the table enjoying nice conversation and Molly Weasley's hearty cooking.

"Do pass the mashed potatoes George my Darling," Fred cooed.

"Anything for you my shnukums," George simpered back.

"Oh that's enough of that boys," Miss Weasley rolled her eyes, but smiled at the jest. The party was very merry, the feeling not even being disrupted when Fred passed a salt shaker across the table to Harry, which immediately upturned its entire contents onto his plate. Fred's eyes sparkled with mirth and George gave him a satisfied grin before Mrs. Weasley cuffed him upside the head and demanded that he make a new plate for Harry. 

Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed at Fred and George. Fred noticed the way that her eyes crinkled around the edges and her bell-like laughter filled the room, and he smiled back at George. Clearly if Hermione was laughing it had been funny, and there was no need to feel too guilty about Harry's now-spoiled plate. Ron just sat at the table with a dazed look in his eyes, no doubt thinking about the day to come. Should've picked the easier target, Fred thought to himself, laughing at Ron's distant expression.