I wrote this back in June of 2017, I had an anon prompt on tumblr: "Fremione! Uhhh how about one where fred gets hermione to try flying and Harry and Ron are amazed/offended that she'll give it a shot for fred but not them." I also drew a card from my Storymatic and got: 'Shouldn't have touched it'

So I tried to work both of these prompts into one story.

Oh, and the title comes from 'Mad Love' by the Neon Trees.

Crossposted to Ao3. Enjoy!

"Oh Merlin...I shouldn't have touched it…" Hermione covered her mouth with both hands, trying to will herself calm. The splintered remains of Harry's broom lay on the ground in front of them.

Fred reached out to squeeze her shoulder. Where the contact might have thrilled her not five minutes before, she was too upset to think anything of it now. "Come now, Granger...it's nothing that can't be replaced. If that was you instead of the broom on the ground, I think Harry'd be a touch more upset."

She glanced back in the direction of the Burrow. "Oh, but I wouldn't have to hear about it in that case!"

Fred frowned. "Ron's right. You do need to get your priorities in order…"

She shot him a look and took a deep breath. "Right then. I'll just...I'll go back and I'll tell him I destroyed his broom…his pride and joy..." she gulped.

"Why did you even try it at any rate? You hate flying. Scared of heights, aren't you? Or am I wrong?"

He wasn't wrong. She was scared to death of flying. And heights. And brooms for anything other than sweeping. But she'd jumped at the chance to ride with Fred. All because she fancied him. She'd admit that now.

And he refused to think of her as anything other than his brother's friend. He referred to her by 'Granger', that should have clued her in.

But she was stubborn and for whatever reason, she jumped at the chance to be alone with him. Even if it was on a broom.

She bit down on her bottom lip. "I tried it because I wanted...because you offered." She picked up the biggest piece of the broom she could find, a small section of the handle, and turned to march back up to the backyard of the burrow.

"Yeah, well Ron and Harry both offered, too, but you didn't go with them! I thought Ron was gonna have kittens when you hopped on with me."

She exhaled loudly, stomping off in the direction they'd come. If he didn't get it now, he was never going to get it. And even if he did? She wasn't sure she wanted to actually be rejected. Even if her more practical side told her that it was the only way to get over her crush.

"If you'd gone with Ron, he'd have probably taken the blame for it."

"If I'd gone with Ron, it wouldn't have happened," she hissed.

Fred scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ron wouldn't have let me steer."

"Oh. Well. You're right about that."

She hummed in response, still charging through the brush and bramble.

"We could apparate back up to the yard, Granger."

"So go," she said brusquely. "I need the walk."

There was a pop and she knew he'd gone. Finally.

The rest of the way only took her about ten minutes, but she had thorns in her hair and wet socks from stepping in a puddle.

And Harry wasn't mad. Not that she thought he would be. He was disappointed that his broom was gone, but relieved that she was okay. Fred had greased the way for her, apparently. Blown the whole accident way out of proportion in a way that only he could. Made them out to be heroes in the fight for their lives.

When in all actuality, it had just been her own willful ignorance of what she was doing.

She offered to pay for a new broom. Harry refused. She offered again. He refused again. She decided to shrink the galleons and stick them in his pocket when he wasn't looking.

And she did apparate after that. She apparated home for a shower and an evening of pulling thorns and twigs from her hair.

She chided herself for acting like a lovestruck teenager, when she was on the tail-end of twenty-five.

It was high time she put this attraction she felt for Ron's older brother to rest anyway. It had been nearly ten years running now. She wasn't fifteen anymore. And Fred certainly wasn't seventeen.

Crookshanks meowed up at her impatiently, rubbing against her legs before meowing again.

"Right, right. You like food…I'm sorry…" Hermione got up and walked to the kitchen.

There was a tapping at the window, which she opened to discover Puck, Fred and George's owl, preening on her window sill. Frowning, she let him in, placing a bit of Crookshanks' food on the counter for him to nibble while she went about her business.

"Did you have a letter?" she asked, not knowing what she was expecting in way of response. Puck was rather inclined to live up to his name. And his owners' reputations. He was known to hide letters if proper payment was not forthcoming. In this case, a bit of salmon.

He finished eating his treat and flew out the window, only to return with a small folded bit of parchment.

"Would you mind terribly if I came by for a visit?" It was signed with Fred's recognizable scrawl. Messy to the point where she wondered if he let Puck sign his name for him.

She hesitated before replying. She could always feign ignorance. Perhaps she went to bed before she received this.

Puck screeched at her, which made her jump in surprise.

It was better to get this over with now, she supposed.

So, she summoned a quill and scribbled an answer at the bottom.

"Not at all. I'll await your arrival."

He must have been waiting for her response. Because he arrived at her front door no less than a half-hour later.

He knocked. Three times. Impatiently.

She opened the door to a question.

"You went because I offered?"

Frowning, she stood aside to allow him entrance. "I beg your pardon?"

"The broom. Flying. You went because I offered , or because I offered?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and shut the door behind him, waiting to hear the click of the lock before she replied. "Because you offered. I thought that was obvious by how I turned both Ron and Harry down."

"Why?"

She sighed. "I would think that would be obvious as well."

Fred's mouth hung open and he blinked repeatedly. Hermione thought that perhaps his brain might be broken.

"You can sit down if you'd like…" Hermione summoned a chair and Fred plopped down into it. She busied herself by folding up the blanket she'd strewn on the couch earlier that day. And sending the various books that had found their way onto every flat surface of her living room back up onto the shelf. Basically tidying up where no tidying needed to be done.

Fred huffed out a sound that might have been laughter, but she wasn't entirely sure. "Well, if that doesn't kick my arse…Granger…" He looked up at her. "Hermione…" he corrected himself. "How...when...how-"

"Since fifth year. My fifth year," she answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "An embarrassingly long time, to put it mildly."

"Merlin's beard…" he mumbled under his breath. "And I thought you fancied Ron."

"You're not the first one to make that assumption. Certainly not the first Weasley." Ron himself came to mind. And Ginny. And Percy. And George. And apparently Fred.

"You hid it well."

"Perhaps. Or -and this is more likely - everyone expected me to fancy Ron. So that's how it appeared."

Fred didn't say anything. He just stared down at the toe of his shoe as if it held all the answers. She walked back to the kitchen to begin cleaning up after Crookshanks. She raised her voice a little so it would carry out to the sitting room.

"I'm not expecting anything from you. No reciprocated feelings, nothing of that sort. I'm nothing if not practical. It's a silly school-girl crush that I allowed to... exist for far too long."

She turned back from the sink, reaching for a towel and running headlong into Fred's chest. She hadn't even heard him get up from the chair.

"The thought occurs to me...that we are no longer in school," he began. "Therefore, your insistence that this is a silly school-girl crush...just doesn't really ring true."

Her dripping hands were still out in front of her; she was unable to tear her gaze away. "Fred…"

Clasping her hands in his, he leaned down, stopping just shy of kissing her. "Is this alright?" His breath was hot as it passed over her face, his lips just scant millimeters from her own.

She nodded, and rose up slightly to close the distance. The second their lips touched, she felt a jolt of something pulse through her veins. Warmth. Electricity. Arousal . Such that she broke off the kiss with a gasp.

But she didn't move away. She stayed right where she was. A hairsbreadth from him.

She flexed her fingers around his and he chuckled. "Your hands are wet, Hermione, did you know?"

"Are they?" she asked.

He licked his lips. "Yes."

She pulled them away, wiping them on the front of his jumper. "Better?" She took a step back from him, walking back towards the living room and taking a deep gulp of air.

"So is this…" he trailed off. "Are we…" he trailed off again. "How was I? The snogging bit? Was it alright?"

"I'm not sure that would qualify as snogging. It was kissing if it was anything. And it was fine. Nice."

"Fine? Nice? Oy, I must be havin' an off night."

"That was a compliment!" she insisted, all the while a grin pulled at her lips. One she couldn't quite tamp down, so she decided not to try. "It was a lovely kiss, Fred."

"No, no...don't placate me, 'Mione. It's fine. I'm sure no one could ever live up to Viktor Krum." He flopped down on the couch with his hand draped dramatically over his forehead.

Rolling her eyes, she sat down beside him, pulling him closer and kissing the words right out of his mouth.

He let out a small groan that was muffled by her mouth. Her tongue teased along the outline of his lips, and his hands went up into her hair.

Her lips tingled when she ended the kiss. "How was that?" His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, nuzzling his nose along her jaw.

"Lovely kiss, Fred."

"Hermione… " he groaned.

Leave me something yummy in the comments if you liked it! *hearts*