A new Hermione/Fred Weasley story - intended three shot. An AU in which Fred Weasley lives and Hermione and Ron never quite get their act together.

It was over, finally, seven years of Harry fighting for his life and her and Ron being along for the ride was finally over. Voldemort was dead, they were alive, and it finally felt like they were free. They had lost friends and they had lost family – Remus, Tonks. They had nearly lost Fred. If Lee Jordan hadn't appeared and knocked him out of the way of that crumbling wall he would have been crushed. He and Percy still had scars from the debris, but they were alive, and the Weasley family came out of the final battle intact and closer than they had been in years past.

Harry and Ron had taken off when all was said and done. Sick of the press and the cameras and the invasion of what little privacy they had they had packed their bags said goodbye and taken off around Europe. Hermione couldn't blame them, nor did she really want to go with them. She knew they needed the time to sort their relationship out, to be brothers again. And in all honesty, it gave her time to deconstruct her relationship with Ron. Years of will they, and when will they had given both of them expectations of where they would be but besides that adrenaline fueled kiss during the battle both had been too hesitant to take it further. Sometimes she wondered if she was ready for all a relationship with Ron would entail. They would fight and argue like they had always done, and she wasn't sure if she could handle that after the chaos that had been recent years.

So as Harry and Ron left to find themselves, Hermione went back to Hogwarts for her NEWTS, with a handful of her former year mates – Draco Malfoy surprisingly included – and experienced what was the first relatively normal year of her Hogwarts career. No deadly puzzles, or giant snakes, murderous animagus. No Dark Lord rising trying to kill them all. No, it was just Head Girl, homework, and peaceful weekends out by the lake. She and Ginny had been out there most weekends, Hermione a comfort for the younger girl as she waited for Harry to come home, and Ginny feminine companionship that Hermione had been missing for years. When Harry had come home, Hermione was the first person Ginny asked for advice on what she should do next.

"Love him, Gin," she had said over a bottle of fire whiskey in Hermione's small Diagon Alley apartment. "Love him like you didn't have the chance last time and let him love you too. But don't let him off too easily, he needs to stew for a few days, maybe even a week."

Okay, so the two of them had been a little bit more than drunk, but Ginny had surprisingly taken her advice and the two were finally happily.

And that brought Hermione to where she was now – packing up her desk after a long day at work about to head to the Leaky for a night out with her friends. She briefly thought about begging off, it had been a long day and her boss had been persnickety, and all she really wanted was a hot cup of tea, her book and Crookshanks at her feet. But they would never let her get away with it. Ron and Harry both would be at her apartment in minutes bemoaning the lack of time they had spent together as if the last seven years hadn't been enough. No, she thought, it was easier to meet them for a few hours, leave early, and head home and hole up for the rest of the weekend. Sighing, she collected her bag, checked that her papers were locked away, and headed out to the main hall ready for a floo. It was late, and most everyone had gone home, so she was surprised to see Anthony Goldstein coming out of the elevator across from hers. He smiled at her and waved, calling out hello.

"Hey, Anthony," she said, falling into step beside him.

"See I'm not the only one working the long hours," he said genially, nudging her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Pervins dumped a pile of paperwork on me last minute. Thought I'd better get it done than be greeted by it on a Monday morning."

Anthony nodded in understanding. "I've heard he can be a bit of a hard arse."

"Maybe so," she shrugged. "But getting in good with him sets me up for him on my side when I start to draft some legislation."

Anthony looked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked. "Would have thought a war hero would be able to skip all the departmental politics."

"I'd rather people make the right choice based on conscious rather than my reputation," she said simply.

"A noble choice, pure Gryffindor." Hermione smiled lightly, it seemed they would never escape the markers of their houses, even after the trouble that had been caused. "Are you heading out to anywhere special then?" Anthony asked.

Hermione nodded. "I'm meeting Harry and Ron at the Leaky. They said something about a few people getting together, you could come if you wanted?" she said, "Invite Terry, Michael, whoever if you wanted to."

They arrived at an empty floo and Anthony turned to face her. "Funnily enough, I'm on my way there too. Meeting Terry and Michael. Ladies first?"

Smiling, Hermione moved past him and grabbed a handful of the green powder. Throwing it into the grate she called out, "Leaky Cauldron," and stepped into the flames. There was the brief feeling of heat and a pull around her navel, and then she was speeding through the network and spilling out into the crowded pub. Remembering Anthony behind her, she swiftly moved out of his path and brushed herself off. A moment later, Anthony appeared, much more graceful than herself and moved to stand with her. Glancing around he nodded to a table in the corner where Hermione could see Michael Corner and Terry Boot chatting and glancing over in their direction.

"I better get over there," Anthony said. "It was good to see you, Hermione," he smiled at her widely.

"You too, Anthony," she replied, waving goodbye. When he had gone off she looked around herself, surprised to have not at least heard her friends. Despite the din, they were usually quite a rowdy bunch.

"Hermione!" Ah, there it was, she thought. Ron was nearly standing on top of a chair waving to her across the room. Typical, the thought. He had a half empty pint glass in his hand and the pink in his cheeks told her he had had a few to drink already. Shaking her head she approached him and hugged him quickly.

"What time did you get here?"

"Was that Goldstein you came with?" he asked her with narrowed eyes, ignoring her question.

"We left work at the same time," she explained, moving to sit beside him. Harry was across the table with his arm on the back of Ginny's chair. Neville was beside her, looking like he had matched Ron drink for drink, the rest of the seats at their table empty.

"The twins and Lee are at the bar," Harry explained. "Hi Hermione, thought you'd gone home and forgotten all about us."

Ginny smacked him in the shoulder. "It's been busy at work," Hermione explained, shrugging off her outer robe. She was one of the few who wore muggle clothing under her robes, which while more popular amongst the younger generation, was sometimes out of place amongst her department co-workers.

"Hermione," Ron said, leaning on her shoulder. "Are you seeing Goldstein?"

Blushing Hermione stammered out a denial. "Honestly, Ronald. We both work at the ministry, we were heading to the same place."

"Have you got a boyfriend Granger?" Fred Weasley came sauntering up behind her, drinks in hand. He leaned over her and placed one in front of her. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut up, Fred."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George." Hermione rolled her eyes. She wouldn't be fooled, she knew exactly which of the twins was which, even if she could never really explain why.

"Can't pull the wool over your eyes, can I love?" he laughed and took a seat on the other side of Neville. Still looking at her he pointed his chin over in the direction of the former Ravenclaw's.

"Still, Goldstein. Not a bad catch," he said, taking a deep drink. "Could be worse. You could have ended up with Ronniekins over here."

The pink in Ron's face turned a dangerous shade of red. Hermione placed a placating hand on his arm. "Even worse, there's you," she sniped. She had been here for less than ten minutes and already she was feeling agitated and itchy. Fred always seemed to be able to do that to her, even when they were in Hogwarts and she was trying her hardest to curb his more dangerous ideas, he had known which buttons to push.

Perhaps sensing her frayed nerves, Harry drew her attention with a question about the work she had been doing, which developed into a conversation about one of his recent cases. It did its job, Ron was joining in, forgetting his brother's jibe, and the other Weasley was sufficiently distracted by his twin and Lee Jordan returning to the table with more drinks. Even so, she could feel his eyes on her, and the smirk on his face. Ginny looked at her knowingly and winked as Harry and Ron rambled on. Scowling, Hermione lifted her drink and took a deep sip, nearly finishing half the glass.

"Another one, Granger?" Fred was standing and looking between her and the now nearly empty glass expectantly.

Nodding, she stood and followed him through the crowds, his broad shoulders doing a much better job of creating a path than her much smaller frame would have done. He pulled her next to him at the bar and signaled to the barman, who lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

"So why is it I only ever see you when my brother and soon to be brother-in-law guilt you into coming out?" Fred was now leaning back against the wooden counter, elbows propping him up lazily.

Hermione's heart fluttered a little at his haphazard smile. It brought out the dimple in his right cheek and she could have sworn that his eyes sparkled just a little.

"Work's been busy," she explained. "I don't get out till gone seven most nights, and when I do get out any earlier I usually go straight to sleep."

Fred frowned at her. "Come on, Granger, you're twenty-one years old, you should have more of a life than that."

"I'll have time for that when I've built up some solid relationships in the office."

"Careful there, Granger," Fred said dangerously, customary smirk replacing what was a smile. "You sound a bit like the Percy of old."

"Oh shut up, Fred," she frowned. "Just order would you."

Four drinks later and Hermione was feeling significantly lighter than she had done in recent weeks. It was gone midnight when the group decided to call it a night, all in a chipper state. Neville was the first to go, closely followed by Harry and Ginny, who took one look at a dozing Ron and declared that someone would have to be in charge of getting him home. Sighing, and resigned to one of her least favourite jobs, Hermione was stopped from volunteering by Fred gently squeezing her thigh.

"Georgie, take him back to the shop, would you? He can pass out on the couch."

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do?" his twin asked him suspiciously, glancing between Fred and Hermione, and raising his eyebrows at Fred's missing hand.

"I'll make sure Granger gets home," he said simply. "I'll be half an hour."

Bundled up in her robe and a thick scarf around her neck, Hermione let Fred lead her out into the main street of Diagon Alley.

"You don't have to walk me home," she said quietly as they started off.

"Course I do," he said simply.

They walked quietly through the dark streets, Hermione turning over the night in her mind. He infuriated her, Fred Weasley, more so than Ron had ever done she sometimes thought, but he was also kind and seemed genuinely concerned for her and her safety. He sent her head spinning. And when they reached her apartment, conveniently above an old book shop, she could have sworn that he had looked at her with intent at her door, as though he was contemplating doing something very stupid. She recognised the look in his eyes, because she was sure it was the same look being reflected at him.

She didn't see much of anyone over the next few weeks, and each night, when she left the office in the dark and stumbled into her lonely apartment she thought back to Fred Weasley leaning on a bar reminding her that sometimes she just needed to get out of the office and be twenty-one. So that's why, the next time Harry bugged her about meeting them out for a drink, she put up only a token resistance and even left work early to go home and change before heading out.

She was the last to arrive and she smiled at the warm greetings she received from her friends. She sat in an open seat next to Fred who nudged her in the side and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Nice to see you out and about, Granger."

"Someone told me that I need to get out more," she laughed. He smiled at her, one is rarer, more genuine smiles and offered to get her a drink.

Hermione had more fun that night than she had had in months. Ron's drunken bravado didn't bother her like it usually did, and Harry and Ginny being in love didn't make her want to throw up, and all of Fred's little jokes and comments made her laugh long and loud, drawing more pleased smiles from the older twin.

At the end of the night, much like the last time they had been out together, ended in George dragging Ron back to the shop and the twins shared apartment above it and Fred walking her home but this time they walked a little closer and Hermione's hand was intertwined with Fred's, for balance he said, when she looked at him with eyebrows raised.

"Has work slowed down any?" Fred asked her as they meandered down the cobbled pathways.

She shook her head. "Pervins has been down my neck lately. I think he's feeling the pressure from higher up."

Fred squeezed her hand in his comfortingly.

"It's fine," she continued. "How's the shop going?"

Truthfully, she had always been impressed by the twin's ingenuity and their business capabilities. Even when they had been seventeen years old and hawking their products in corridor corners and the Gryffindor common room, she had shown blatant disapproval, but in private envied the charms and potions they had developed for their products. In the years since the war ended Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had gone from strength to strength and it was rare that the place wasn't over run with customers.

"It's good, the munchkins headed back a few weeks ago so they all came in to stock up. We've getting a lot of owl orders now."

"Ron was saying you've had to hire someone else to keep up with demand."

"Yeah, Sebastian. He's alright. Same year as me and George as Beauxbatons."

"You sound very enthusiastic," Hermione said drily.

Fred shrugged. "He's a good salesman. The girls especially fall for the accent. Sells a lot of the patented daydream charms."

"I see," Hermione giggled. "You're jealous he's taking away all the female attention."

Fred turned to her, affronted, and narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Granger."

"Whatever you say, Fred," Hermione said blithely. "You coming in for a cuppa?" They had arrived at her door and Fred looked at her, eyes wide.

"It's just a drink, Fred," she said, "I don't feel like being alone."

He didn't say anything, just nodded and followed Hermione inside as she opened the door. He grinned when he caught sight of Crookshanks winding his way through Hermione's legs.

"Still have the monstrosity, then?"

"Crookshanks is not a monstrosity," she frowned at him. "I was lucky he came home, your mum spoiled so much when she had him for me."

"Yeah, I remember. I'd drop by for dinner and the bloody cat would be eating better than any of us."

"That's the problem," Hermione laughed, reaching down and scratching the cat behind the ear. "I don't have the necessary kitchen skills to keep him in much from tinned food."

"I wouldn't worry so much, love," Fred assured her. "Food always tastes better when it's being served by a pretty girl."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. "Sod off, Fred."

He laughed as he followed her into the kitchen where she waved her wand at the green kettle sitting on the stove top. Water boiling, she reached up and grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard and set about getting the tea leaves ready. She may not have had any use for them in Divination but Merlin help her if she ever had to resort to tea bags for a decent warm drink. Water boiled and tea made she handed Fred his mug, waved her wand to levitate a packet of ginger newts, and settled onto her lumpy sofa. Fred settled in next to her and leaned back into the pillows.

He looked around the small apartment and sent her a smile. "I don't think I've been in here since we helped you move."

Following his gaze Hermione took in the sparse decorations. Mostly second hand furniture, and old muggle posters tacked up on the walls, a collection of mismatched cushions and old knitted throw rugs provided an eclectic yet comfortable home. Most people seemed a little taken aback when they saw it all, expecting regimented order. And her work space was like that. But with the way it seemed work was taking over her life lately, it was nice to come home to a little bit of chaos and free spirit.

"It's a good fit for me."

"I'm sure it is," Fred agreed. "Now tell me, Granger," he said, fixing her with a serious look. "Are you keeping that bookshop downstairs in business all by yourself?"

This set her off into a fit of giggles, soon setting Fred off with a bout of deep laughter, and soon the two of them were clutching each other laughing drunkenly. When her giggles had subsided, Hermione felt her eyes drifting slowly closed, made worse by the warmth of Fred's body on her own.

She woke up the next morning with a crick in her neck and a heavy arm circling her waist. She was on her couch, thank Merlin, and not a stranger's apartment, and judging by the freckles on the arm wrapped around her it was definitely a Weasley she was cuddling with. Remembering the events of last night she groaned when she realised she had indeed invited Fred inside, flirted with him drunkenly, and then fallen asleep on him. Fantastic.

"Mornin', Granger," he mumbled into her hair.

"Good morning, Fred," she said, extracting herself from his arm and sitting up, cracking her neck and stretching. "Sorry about the sofa, it's a little uncomfortable, I know."

Sitting up beside her Fred stretched out and winked at her. "I don't know, I was pretty comfortable, love."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes.

He stood and offered her a hand, pulling Hermione to her feet. "I've got to head off to the shop, but I'll see you at mums for tea, yeah?"

It was Saturday, which meant a family night at the Burrow for all that could make it. Hermione had make excuses for the last few, exhaustion hitting her hard, but found herself looking forward to a Molly Weasley roast dinner.

"I'll be there," she assured him, feeling slightly awkward. Fred did not appear to feel the same way as he left with a jaunty wave and a grin. Somewhat mortified, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and sank back down to the couch. She needed to talk to Ginny.

An hour later and said red-head was sitting on Hermione's lumpy couch scoffing ginger newts and looking at Hermione contemplatively.

"I don't know why you're so worried," she said, waving her biscuit in the air. "Fred's mad for you, has been for years."

"Years," Hermione squeaked. Sure, she had thought they had gotten flirty in recent months, but years?

"Mhmm hmmm," Ginny nodded, mouth full. "Course, he wouldn't do anything about it because we all thought you and Ron would be married with a kid by now."

"Married?!" Just the thought gave her heart palpitations.

"Oh come off it, you thought it too."

"Well, for a time, maybe," Hermione stuttered, "but Ronald and I, we never quite got the traction we needed."

"Exactly," Ginny said sagely. "So when Fred realised that Romione wasn't ever going to happen he figured he might actually have a chance but he's also dead shy so it's been moving at a glacial pace."

"Fred Weasley is anything but shy," Hermione protested. "I think you've got the wrong end of the stick here."

"He's shy with you," Ginny affirmed. "I'm his only sister, I know these things."

"Well, what do I do?" Hermione asked, panicking.

"Do you like him?" Ginny asked simply.

"I don't – I mean, it's not – it's not exactly," Hermione wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't really thought about it before. It was Fred. Fred who smiled at her with mischievous and playful eyes, dimpled cheeks, who made her laugh and comforted her when she was upset. Fred who walked her home and made sure she had a drink, who kept her sane when she was close to boiling point. The same Fred who drove her crazy and made everything a joke, who needled her and poked her until she was close to blowing up before calming her right back down again. Ginny was right. For years she thought she would be married to Ron by now, maybe a kid on the way, maybe not, and everyone else thought it too. But every time she had tried to picture that maybe future it was a different red-head. Stockier, more muscle, freckled and usually wearing some ridiculous and outlandish dragonskin jacket.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered. Ginny looked triumphant. "When did this happen?" Hermione cried. "How did this happen?"

"Don't ask me," Ginny said, rolling her eyes and standing up, "you're the one in love with Fred, not me."

"Ginny, you can't leave," Hermione begged. "He's going to be at dinner tonight. What on earth do I do?"

"Acting like a normal person would be a start," Ginny said as she collected her coat. "I can't stay, I'm meeting Harry." Giving Hermione a quick hug she waved goodbye and swanned out the door.

Unsure of what to do with this new information Hermione groaned and fell back into the cushions, putting one over her mouth as she screamed. She couldn't do this. She could not go to dinner with all of the Weasley's knowing she liked – loved? – Fred and he maybe liked – loved? – her back. If there was one thing that Hermione had never excelled in it was dealing with her emotions. And really, she didn't have a great track record with Weasley men.

If you liked it, let me know. If you didn't, don't let me know.

Hopefully the next part will be up soon, I'm still on holiday from work so I have a bit of free time, but I also have to get myself prepared so we'll see how we go.

Hannah