She tied back the long caramel waves with a scrunchie, a scrunchie which kind of ruined the entire act, which had been surprisingly beautiful. Not because she did it like a L'Oreal advert- even though she did- but because she did it so…so unconsciously. She wasn't very self-aware when she was doing research. She pulled down yet more books and added them to the ever-growing pile by her side before turning back to pore over one of the tomes currently open on the various end tables dotted around her. She sat before the fireside in the large library, but she kept a window open for Hedwig, borrowed off her temporary flatmate for the night. The mix of warm and cold enveloped the different sides of the room, meaning that she sat with one side of her fluffy wool cardigan over her right shoulder, the other slipping off the left. This might have been accidental, though- as he'd mentioned before, she tended to get absorbed in whatever she was reading. He moved over to her, sat down beside her, only disrupting her concentration when he leant over to take a book off the nearest end table. Her fingers shot out and closed round his wrist as she looked up at him with a tired, gentle smile. "If you're planning on helping, Fred, then perhaps you'd like to start by looking at one of the books I haven't looked at?"
He smiled sheepishly; "Yes, I can see how that would be useful." He replaced the book gently, and under her watchful gaze he picked up another, non-verbally confirming with her via an inquisitive glance and a nod that this book, indeed, was one she had not yet read. He settled next to her, not sharing her cushion but instead opting for one just behind her. He opened the book quietly, turning the leaves for a few seconds before he realised he had absolutely no idea what on earth he was looking for.

"Mi, what are we actually meant to be looking for?" His joking tone hid the fact that he really didn't know.
"Don't call me Mi, Fred."
"Why not? Easier than saying Mione."
"Because I don't like it. And I'm looking for a way to synthesize unicorn blood." She stated this matter-of-factly, while Fred started in revulsion.
"Unicorn's blood?" He sputtered, rapidly moving up and away from her. "Isn't that dark magic?"
"Don't be silly, Fred. Ingredients in and of themselves aren't light or dark magic, good or evil. The way they are used determines their allegiance. And unicorn's blood is a very useful ingredient in many potions. It can help to prolong life, bolster the immune system- combining it with other magical ingredients could even do something like cure cancer." Hermione would be the sort of person to know about this- after all, she was now a Potions Mistress- although she hated the title- who had the ability to equal if not best Severus Snape himself. The only reason she was even here was because she was in the process of moving house, which meant that her labs had not yet been set up.
"So if you do synthesize it, what will you do with it?"
"Give it to St. Mungo's. They can use it for their intensive-care patients who need treatment but can't get it at the appropriate time." As soon as she said the words, his anger and revulsion fled and he tentatively moved towards her, settling beside her again.

A few hours later, his concentration got disrupted. Mi had stood up, rolling her neck on her shoulders with an action that produced several loud, audible cracks. He knew many people, including Ron, who winced every time she did this, and often asked her to stop. Much as he disliked the sounds that were made, Fred never asked her to stop, because he knew this was how she released some of the tension in her muscles. And besides, after 21 years with a twin who liked to crack his elbows and knees- hey, they were never going to be normal kids, they were born on April Fool's Day, for heaven's sake- he was quite used to the sound, distasteful as it was. Absent-mindedly, he returned to his book, his eyes alighting upon the piece of information that his eyes had been sliding over, unseeing, for the last five minutes. It wasn't the answer to the issue Mi had been seeking, but it was certainly a start.

"Hey, Mi, you might want to look at this! I'm not sure if it's what you need, but-"
"Fred, at this point I'd take anything. What is it?"
"Well it says that centaur hair was synthesized when they fell out with the Ministry last year-with Umbridge, remember? God, I'm so glad we escaped her- and since the centaur is like a brother species with the unicorn, maybe-"
"Maybe if we can find out the formula for synthesization, then we can go from there to figuring out the next step…oh, and it's a cousin of the unicorn, Fred."
"Well, close enough. So, what are you going to do now? It's not like you live in a house with a lab anymore, you live here- for the moment, anyway."
"Yes, Grimmauld Place is hardly the best place for scientific experiments. But Kingsley should let me into one of the Ministry's labs- he's let me work there before, when I was refining the Polyjuice Potion- and the staff know me, so it shouldn't be a problem. Ugh, this is when I need my labs. I hardly live here, Fred, I've been here two weeks, and the builders owled me today- everything should be set up in the next few days." Her tone was happy.
"It will?" His tone wasn't. Funny, that. Actually, the sentence had come out sort of strangled.
"Well, yeah. They got over the hitch they found in the house sooner than they expected. Are you okay? You sounded choked. I can get you a glass of water if you like-"
"No, I'm fine, Mi." He watched her eyes glint momentarily with annoyance at the name before he spoke again, his tone softer this time. "I just didn't expect you to be gone so soon. Leaving us losers behind?"
"You're hardly a loser, Fred- you and George and Ron run the most successful joke business in all of Wizarding history." George's share had been split in half after the war, when he was badly injured by an explosion caused by Augustus Rookwood. It cost George his leg, and Rookwood his life- at the hands of Percy, no less. The explosion and his resulting injuries meant that George only came back to the business at least a year after the war had ended, complete with prosthetic leg. Nevertheless, his twin had refused to let his prosthetic- and his badly scarred face, similar to Bill's, now- dim his humour, to the point where he often turned up with his false leg decorated- one time in magenta and orange zebra stripes. Her voice brought Fred back to the present. "And the only person who actually lives here is Harry, who won the war, so really cannot be called a loser, Fred. Which reminds me, why are you hanging out over here so much anyway? You have a flat with George, don't you?"
"Well, technically."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice not angry, but curious.
"Didn't they tell you? He and Angelina have decided to move in together, and I figured that it would be just a tad too awkward with me around as a fifth wheel, so Harry's agreed to put me up while I found a suitable apartment in London." Hermione's face had got progressively more shocked as his story went on.
"Oh, my days. I suppose I haven't been the most sociable recently, but I didn't think I'd miss anything of this magnitude! I mean, it's just with the house and this project, I got so caught up and-" Her eyes were wide as she babbled.
"Mi!" She shut up pretty quick and chose to glare at him instead. "They've only just started telling people, knowing George they've probably only just told the family, so you haven't missed anything, per se."
"Oh. Well, I suppose that makes things better."
"Uh-huh. So I'm here, until I find a pad."
"Fair enough, I guess. How long do you think that will take?"
"Well, I've no idea. The requirements are a bit difficult to fill, I think, so it might be a while. You see, I like to mess around with the products at home, so ideally there would be an experimentation place, like a lab, I reckon. And it's pretty difficult to find something like that at a decent rent price in Wizarding London." As he described the place he'd need to work in, Hermione's face took on a thoughtful look.
"Fred…"
"Yes?" Curiosity, no deceit.
"You know that the place I'm living in is a rented property, right?"
"No…You're having the place built, Mi, how is it rented?"
"I'm not building it, it's being built to my specifications. The owner was just willing to add on a few labs for an increase in the rent and cause it's being rented to one of the Golden Trio, I guess. But the rent was already steep, and there's plenty of spare bedrooms already built there. Why don't we share? I don't need all the lab space. You'd have to pay rent, of course, but between us it wouldn't be much. It's only an idea, of course, you're perfectly within your rights to turn it down if you'd prefer a place of your own, but I just thought, since you were looking for a place and it does seem like quite the coincidence," Another thing about Hermione. She babbled. Especially when she was nervous.
"Mi!" This short phrase was quickly becoming one of the most-used in his vocabulary. But what the hell, it shut her up. He calmed his tone as she started with surprise. "Mi, that sounds great. Why don't we talk about it in the morning? It's late, and these discussions need the sober light of day." His voice held a smile in it- truth be told, he'd been hoping for a situation like this, and when George had told him about Angelina and they fact that they were planning on finding a place away from the shop, Fred had been the first to suggest letting the place to Ron. Ron was an integral part of the business, he'd argued, and if he was ever going to take on more responsibility that Fred felt he was ready for, he should be closer to the business. George had taken one look at him after his little speech, and said "Yeah, right. You just want to get with Granger." Fred had immediately begun to splutter and turn the unmistakable bright red that characterised the Weasley boys, before denouncing his twin as a cynic and sceptic as he Apparated himself away to Grimmauld Place.