Fourth Year
"You're a fool."
Hermione jumped, momentarily startled by the voice behind her. She hastily swiped the tears from her face and whirled around to confront…
For a moment, her heart stopped. The shock of red hair had almost sent her into a panic attack. Ron couldn't possibly see her like this! Not now!
It was only Fred. Leaning casually against a column as if he hadn't just interrupted her ugly sobs.
Or was it George?
Typically, George would be the one to seek someone out when they were hurting - but no - the slightly deeper smattering of freckles and lighter eyes was definitely, one hundred percent, Fred.
"H-hello, Fred," Hermione finally stuttered out.
"Honestly, Hermione, he's not worth your tears," Fred continued. "Didn't think you'd fall for him in the first place - thought you were smarter than that, you see -" here Hermione made a noise of protest "- but s'pose some birds have a thing for red hair… though you could've chosen any of the Weasley boys besides Ronniekins. I mean, really, Ronniekins?"
Hermione blushed furiously, biting the inside of her cheek viciously. "Thank you for the comfort and support, but I'll just be on my way dealing with my foolish fancying," Hermione bit out, turning quickly to walk in the other direction.
But then there was a hand on her wrist. She looked up to the hand's owner, startled to see his solemn, almost… hurt expression. His typical grin was twisted into a bitter frown… and Hermione didn't know what to make of that.
"I'm sorry Hermione… I wasn't thinking straight. It just makes me so mad, knowing that he's hurt you. When you deserve so much more…" he trailed off, gulping.
Hermione was suddenly struck by the intensity of Fred's gaze. His pupils were dilated, deep and warm.
"Her-my-own-ninny?" Viktor voice called from down the hallway. Hermione jumped slightly, shaking herself. When she looked back up at Fred, the intensity was gone; his usual levity and foolishness returned.
"He's getting better at pronouncing your name," Fred commented, smiling lopsidedly.
"I'll let you get back to Angelina," Hermione said softly.
"Angelina? She won't mind," Fred shrugged. "'ve always suspected she had a thing for George - George only took Alicia because she isn't ready to come out yet, so Alicia and I figured we'd give the two some alone time. But here's your date - I'll leave you to it. Have a good rest of the ball!"
"Thanks-" Hermione had turned away from facing Viktor to say goodbye to Fred, but he had already gone.
Fifth Year
Fred was always a sucker for an Angry Hermione Granger.
The way her hair frizzed to its highest proportions, her flushed cheeks, her pointed and deadly glare. The way he could just smell the power and magic crackling around her.
It was usually a lot more fun when Angry Hermione Granger was angry at someone else - anyone but him. Usually Ronniekins.
Well, if he was being honest, there had been that time he had been testing his and George's products on first years. Willing first years, really.
"All right there Granger?" Fred smirked, though inwardly was tense with dread.
"How could you just leave Hogwarts?" Hermione poked Fred in the chest.
Fred winced, but gave her an exasperated look. "For the last time Granger, it wasn't like we were learning anything from the toad. Plus, with Harry's investment-oops-"
"I figured as much-" Hermione began.
"Don't go spreading it around, all right? Harry wants to keep it under wraps, the silly-"
"A joke shop though? Really Fred?" she interrupted.
"You sound like my mother, honestly-"
"Because it's a waste of your intellect and creativity-"
"-gee Hermione I didn't realize you thought so highly of me-"
"-and you should stick through with your education because it will give you the fundamentals-"
"-please enlighten me about which fundamentals of reading a textbook teaches me for practical purposes-"
"-that will allow you to do so much more in the real world!"
Fred paused, looking at Hermione curiously. "And what, pray tell, is a better cause for the real world than to bring joy and laughter to it?"
Hermione frowned. Deeply.
"Even you would benefit from a right laugh! Look at that face!"
He poked her nose once before lightly tapping her creased brows. "Graaaanger," he wheedled.
Hermione sighed, conceding. "You're right."
Sixth Year
"Where are you going, 'Mione?" Ron asked around a mouthful of pudding. Hermione shuddered. How she had ever fancied that idiot, only Merlin knew.
"I'm just off to the owlery," she answered shortly, pulling together her books and packing them away.
"Who're you owling?" Neville asked, out of simple curiosity.
"P-parents," Hermione answered a tad nervously. Harry's eyes snapped up to hers, narrowing. She was a horrid liar, and Harry could see right through her whenever she tried. "I-it's very important, actually. I better run now before the owls sleep! Wouldn't want to delay-" Hermione quickly grabbed her bag and all but ran down the Great Hall to get away from Harry's penetrating gaze.
"What's up wi' her?" Hermione heard Ron asking Harry, who answered something noncommittally. She could feel Harry's eyes following her closely as she bustled her way out.
Harry turned to his best friend, his forehead creasing, before looking back to where Hermione had disappeared. Something was up… but he didn't know what.
"Aren't owls nocturnal?" Neville asked suddenly, finally catching on.
"Oi, Forge, what's this?" George held up an envelope, pulled off of one of the Hogwarts school's owls. "S'for you."
"Thanks, Gred," Fred began, eyes widening slightly as he recognized her handwriting. He reached for it nonchalantly, hoping that George had missed his small tic.
They were identical twins, after all. Of course George didn't.
"Hmm," George suddenly took a new interest in the letter he was holding. "I wonder what's so special about this?"
"Give it here, George," Fred said lightly, hoping that the bubbling anxiety was less apparent than what he felt.
"Isn't this… our favorite little bookworm's handwriting?" George asked slyly.
"And so what if it is?" Fred challenged defensively. Oops. Big mistake.
George grinned from ear to ear, ripping open the envelope. "I knew it! I knew you fancied the little swot-"
"ACCIO!" Fred shouted, cheeks burning. Letter safely in hand, he stomped away from his twin to the next room, slamming the door.
"Serious, then," George grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "This is going to be good…"
Seventh Year
"You fancy Ron, then?" he asked sharply.
"N-no! Of course not!" Hermione stuttered, wringing her hands. "I-I… I can't-"
"It's a simple question," Fred snapped. "It's me, or it's him."
"It's not that simple!" Hermione cried desperately, eyes welling with tears.
"Actually, it really is!" Fred bellowed. "I won't do this anymore, Hermione. This sneaking around, only George knowing about the two of us, the occasional stolen kisses, for Merlin's sake - you're going to run off with him-"
"I can't abandon Harry!"
"-with him," Fred repeated, eyes flashing, "and I won't know where you are, if you're safe, what you're doing. You claim you're just protecting his feelings, but have you thought about mine? Who's it going to come down to, Granger? Godric, you won't even tell me what you three are searching for-"
"I can't, Fred, you know I can't!" Hermione sobbed. "We've talked about this-"
"That doesn't mean I'm okay with it!" Fred burst out, frustrated. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on it with frustration. "You can't do this. You can't do this to me."
"I have to help Harry, Fred. He's my brother in all but blood. He has no one else-"
"Every night, I'm going to wake up screaming," Fred cut her off suddenly, and Hermione stopped, shaken by the pure fear in Fred's eyes. "I'm going to dream of finding your name on the obituary list, an example by the Ministry when muggleborns don't listen to the rules. I'm going to see Fenrir sodding Greyback standing over you, ready to kill, and I'm going to be paralyzed and forced to watch. I'm going to collapse on the floor every day I don't hear from you or don't hear about you, torn between the hope that you're alive and the dread that you're dead. Can you do that to me, Hermione? Can you really? This is war, Hermione, and-"
"But Harry, Fred-"
"And I love you!" Fred choked out hoarsely. Hermione's eyes widened.
The silence stretched between them, taut and moments from snapping.
"Fred-" Hermione began.
"Don't," he shook his head, frustratedly wiping the tears from his eyes. "I can't do this-" he stuttered before disapparating.
"FRED!" Hermione shouted as he turned on the spot, but he was gone. She collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving with sobs.
"I love you, too," she whimpered into the floorboards. "I love you so, so much."
Chaos, horcrux, darkness, pain, screaming, sword, cup, killing, water, sobbing, shock-
Lips?
Warm, soft, grounding, happy-Fred -not Fred- FRED.
Hermione shoved Ron roughly, breaking the kiss. "No- no, stop, Ron, stop!"
Ron's eyes were wide. "I'm sorry, 'mione, I got caught in the moment-"
Hermione choked back a sob, "I can't- I can't do this right now." And then she was fleeing, fleeing the Chamber of Secrets and oh god, Fred, Fred, please forgive me.
And then she saw him on the ground with his eyes unseeing and his mouth unsmiling and she broke.
Funeral
Sometimes there were whispers.
Soft caresses from the wind, the ephemeral smell of cinnamon, a ghost of kisses remembered on her lips. Sometimes there was a flash of red, the warm massage of his hands, or a sparkle of a past explosion. But it was always fleeting. Impermanent.
Sometimes there were memories.
But that's all they were.
Memories.
She could barely stand when they took his ashes and exploded them into the sky - the fireworks twinkling down as they fell.
They fell, so, so far, burning, sparkling, blinking.
Blinking and fizzling out.
He was fire, but now, only smoke.
And all she wanted to do was drown.
Future
They thought it odd, when George didn't show up for her wedding.
They thought it odd, when George didn't congratulate her impending pregnancy.
They thought it odd, when George didn't see his niece and nephew off to Hogwarts.
They thought it odd, when she flinched at George's son's name.
They thought it odd, when she visited Fred's grave every day, then every week, then every month, then every year.
They thought it odd, but she didn't.