Chance--A Fremione OneShot

Fourth Year: Apparate

***Dedicated to Writenotrun for the wonderful idea of this chapter!***

"With two loud cracks, Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers, had materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room. [...]

"'You two passed your Apparation tests then?' asked Harry grumpily.

"'With distinction,' said Fred[.]"

—J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Orderof the Phoenix, Chapter 4

***

"Come on, Freddy, one more time!"

"George, I'll kill you."

"You can do it. Remember your D's!"

"I'll show you a D."

Hermione had opened the door to the Transfiguration classroom anticipating an empty place to practice, as was part of her usual study routine. Instead, she walked right into an argument between the Weasley twins. Well, George seemed to be enjoying himself, but Fred was practically snarling.

George turned to greet her—the unexpected newcomer—while Fred turned away to hide his scowl.

"Hermione!" George exclaimed with pointed enthusiasm. "What brings you to this lovely corner of the castle?"

"I thought I'd practice a few spells before curfew," she replied, glancing at Fred. "Is everything all right?"

"Don't mind grumpy-pants over there. He's just sour that his younger brother has bested him at spells."

"I said, don't push me today," Fred growled in an undertone to his twin, but not outside Hermione's earshot.

George's smile faltered. "Right," he said awkwardly, eyes shifting between Fred and Hermione. An unreadable expression flitted across his features. "Say, Hermione, how about you help Fred straighten up the classroom. I've got a brunette to catch up with." He shuffled over to Fred, put a hand on his shoulder, then muttered something too softly for Hermione to hear. Fred looked up at his twin, features softened, and nodded. George withdrew, closing the door gingerly.

Hermione stood still at one end of the room; Fred sat down at one of the desks on the opposite side. Not sure if she should approach, she took in the room: the desks and chairs, the books and practice items, the spare quills, the unused cages. Nothing in the room seemed out of place.

"What were you—"

"I'm sorry about—"

They both paused, then Fred chuckled at their synchronized attempts to break the ice. Hermione smiled at him, a crooked sort of knowing smile. She crossed the room, took the desk next to him, and waited for him to speak.

"I'm a bit of a grump," he started over. "George is right. Sorry you had to see that."

"I thought the room was empty," Hermione shrugged. "What were you two doing in here anyway?"

"Apparation practice, and I'm rubbish. George is being ruddy relentless about it." Hermione remembered overhearing that McGonagall had convinced Dumbledore to lift the wards to allow apparation only within her classroom to let Gryffindor practice. Apparently, this type of practice usually happened at set intervals in the Great Hall, but that wasn't possible with so many Triwizard guests.

"And what did you do to him last week?"

"What, that little mishap in Charms? That was nothing!"