Broken Bits

7. Rock Climbing

Fred let his mood sour the rest of the afternoon, and he didn't stop sulking until they were walking back to the lodge for the dreaded dinner with other campers.

Hermione, after shrugging off her jacket to give to a house elf, attempted to slip away unnoticed by the wall. It had become routine for her, and she rather liked hiding in the corner reading while everyone conversed around her. 

"No, you are mingling with me today." Fred grabbed her elbow and pulled her into him, crashing their sides together.

"I'll go mingle over there, you go talk to Seamus or Neville." Hermione pushed away from him, and waved her hand at the rest of the room where everyone was already broken off in their usual groups.

"I don't believe you." Fred muttered, pulling her in tightly again he hooked his arm with hers and pulled.

Hermione stubbornly dug her heels in the hardwood until Fred was forced to turn back to her. She returned his glare with her own, until Fred choose to break the silence. 

"If I have to stand in a room and get stared at by a bunch of jealous blokes, I want to do it with a woman that gets stared at by a bunch of jealous girls." Fred said, keeping his tone low as to not be overheard. He could feel their eyes boring into him and hated every one of them. Whether they were judging, oogling or simply riffling through the gossip, he hated every single bit of it. 

Aside from Neville, he could never hate Neville.

"No one stares at you." Hermione argued back, she pulled away from him to survey the room and found herself meeting the eyes of at least a dozen men. None of the men backed down either once realizing they had been caught staring, instead they returned her stare with a smirk. Making her entirely uncomfortable. 

"Then we're getting some bloody drinks." Hermione demanded, flustered by the stares, hauling him over to the bar by the arm. Elbowing past several girls who didn't even attempt to move out of her way.

"Two firewhiskeys please." Hermione ordered, once they appeared she shoved one glass into Fred's chest and downed hers in a go slamming it on the counter.

She snapped her fingers, and another was placed in the palm of her hand.

Fred watched with a sudden tightness in the pit of his stomach, that he washed away with a generous sip of his drink. It should be sinful the way she could slam back a whiskey with ease. 

"Let's pick the one person in the room they don't expect us to talk to." Hermione whispered, leaning close to Fred to tell him this. She laid her hand on the top of his forearm, right near his elbow and her nails dug into his flesh for only a moment as she steadied herself. 

Her breath floated across his neck, and he forced himself to swallow before answering.

"Who?" He managed to squeak out, and her hand tightened on his arm. He could feel the pressure all the way down to his groin, but he refused to allow his body to show this. 

"Draco Malfoy."

Fred watched amused as Hermione rattled off details about her job to Draco, who was simply staring at her with annoyance. But surprisingly, Draco had been the easiest to talk to. He hadn't even bickered when Hermione hauled him out of a conversation with Pansy, and just began rattling. Her whiskey sloshing in her glass slightly as she was one to use her hands when she talked. 

Draco wasn't jealous of Fred nor did he really care what Hermione had to say. But he stood and listened. Having nothing to gain or give. Fred found himself quite content with the situation, he'd happily stand and talk to anybody if it meant Hermione kept her hand on his arm like she was. Until a manicured hand ghosted down his other arm, he felt himself shiver at the contact.