Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition for Beater 1 of the Appleby Arrows.

Prompts: (word) possible (quote) "I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness a million times, but never once into it.- Jonathan Safran Foer

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else recognizable.

After a few years of watching her, Fred Weasley could say that he knew Hermione's habits rather well.

When she was angry her lips would purse (a lot like McGonagall's) and her eyebrows would narrow. She would try to hold it in, and could crack in an instant. When she was happy her eyes would sparkle and she would have a slight side smile on her face. Her laugh was one of his favorites, though, because her laugh would start softly, crescendoing into a high-pitched noise. It was different, not controlled like every other girl's laugh. She did not care how she sounded, she was just happy. One emotion he had seen many times on her face, though, would be when she was nervous. Chewing on her lips and constantly looking away, you would see her hands twisting with each other and her legs subtly bouncing up and down.

That was how he knew that they were leaving. He had heard whispers about it between his parents, but didn't understand until then. Whatever the trio thought they were doing, it was obviously in efforts to stop the war. When he tried to confront Ron about it, though, Ron just nervously laughed telling him that he was crazy, that of course they weren't going to leave, that would be too dangerous.

He had lied straight to his face.

Except for the last part, it was very dangerous. And Fred did not want Hermione to have any part in it.

He had never admitted this out loud, although he had always figured George had an inkling about it, but he had a crush on Hermione ever since his Sixth Year, at the Yule Ball. She had been crying on the stairs and Fred had went to go comfort her. At the time, it reminded him of a Damsel in Distress, like the ones he had read in muggle fairytales.

Fred remembered what it was like, to be holding her in his arms. At first, Hermione had tried to push him off, but had eventually gave in when the rest of her resolve dissolved. She had completely broken down in his arms, and it wasn't the hair, the make up, or even the way she was dressed that had made her look beautiful, it was how vulnerable Hermione Granger looked. The one that always tried to stay strong for her peers, that worked harder than anyone else to be the best, the biggest supporter anybody could have.

His feelings had only intensified over the next couple years. It got to the point where he would just leave the room if she were in it, in fear of saying something stupid to her. Plus, it was obvious how infatuated she was with Ron.

That was why he had never made his move, Fred was just waiting for Ron and Hermione to finally realize that they would only ever be good together as friends. But now he knew he had to say something fast, because it could be the last time they would see each other.

A large part of him hoped she would stay, but knew that would not be possible. Not with her loyalty to follow Harry everywhere and anywhere. Harry didn't even realize how special Hermione was, he only ever took her for granted. How many times had she saved his life? Too many.

Fred got up from his bed, where he had been sitting for an hour thinking about her. This was it. He was finally going to tell her how he felt.

He made his way down the steps and actually ran right into Hermione, who was going up.

"Oh, sorry Fred!" she said, trying to move past him.

He stood there for a moment, before his brain started working again, "Wait, Hermione."

She stopped, and turn towards him with a questioning look on her face. Fred took the opportunity to grab her arm gently and lead her up to the second floor, away from all the noise.

"Er, Fred. What are you doing."

"Just, hold on. Give me a second."

They both stood there, facing each other. Hermione, was confused, she had never seen Fred act so... well maybe weird, he was always weird, but this time was different. It almost seemed like he was scared.

"I know you're leaving," he said suddenly, and it would have taken Hermione by surprise if she didn't know how easily the twins could find out things. They were too perceptive for their good.

"Yes," she said.

Fred raised an eyebrow at her, "You're not denying it?"

Hermione shrugged, "Why should I? You obviously already know, what's the point in lying to you, especially since we're leaving so soon."

Fred gulped, "Right, well about that. I wish you would stay. Here. Anywhere. I could keep you safe!"

She bit her lip, "Look Fred. I know you don't want us to leave, but we'll be alright. Harry, Ron, and I, we have each other's backs. Nothing's going to happen, especially if we're together. You don't need to worry about us."

Fred put his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "That's the thing," he started, "I'm not worried about them. I mean, I am of course, they're both brothers to me. But I'm not worried about them like I am you." He stopped and sighed, looking up. Pursing his lips, he forced himself to look back into Hermione's eyes, and let his hands drop from her shoulders.

"F-Fred, don't. Please..."

He shook his head. "I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness a million times, but never once into it. Hermione, I like you. A lot. I think I even love you-"

"Yes, you do! But as a sister. Fred, you don't l-"

"Hermione, stop. I think I'm more aware of my feelings than you are."

It was Hermione's turn to gulp. "Fred, I don't feel the same about you. I-I have feelings for Ron. Not you."

As much as Fred knew it was true, he had wished with all his heart that it wasn't. He had thought that maybe if he had confessed, she would have said the same.

Hermione moved backwards, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Fred, I really am. But I only see you as a brother. It's honestly not you, it's m-"

Fred held up his hand, closing his eyes in exasperation. "Just stop," he choked out. He could feel his tears threatening to slip through his closed eyes, and felt one on his cheek. He heard Hermione come closer, as is she was going to comfort him, but he stepped back and turned away.

"Go away," he whispered.

"Fred-"

"Just. Go. Away."

Looking back months later, he wished she hadn't. He wished he would have ran after her, stopped her from leaving.

(A few months later...)

"You're joking, Perce! You actually are joking. I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

And those were Fred Weasley's last words.

But the last thing he saw before he crashed into a world of obliviousness was a certain bushy haired witch, running down the corridor with Ron. They were holding hands.

The last thing he thought was how now that would definitely never be him.

And the last thing he felt was his heart breaking into a million pieces.