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Summary
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked Fred once she’d found a better arrangement in his lap. Trying not to interrupt a dare that had George and Angelina swapping clothing across the room, she added under her breath, “I'm sorry if I’m crushing you.”
“You’re definitely not crushing me,” Fred replied with a quiet, if slightly rueful laugh. There was a trace of tension in his voice as he spoke, and she glanced up to make sure it wasn’t a lie – because hang the game, she would get off of him if he was uncomfortable.
He didn't appear outwardly upset, but he certainly seemed jittery about something.
“Here, I can just say that I need to use the loo-“ she swung her legs sideways so her back was to his chest and made to move off of the chair when his grip around her waist tightened abruptly and she was pulled back into him.
Warm breath ghosted over the back of her neck as Fred said in a low voice that shot straight down her spine, “Hermione, I really need you not to get up right now.”