A/N Hey there fanfiction readers!!! Here I am again with a new story… Yes, I know that I haven't finished the other one, but this one has been bugging me for a while…. I hope you enjoy it… Love U…. Don't forget to review!!!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to wonderful Mrs. Rowling, who is keeping us in agony till July 21st. 

Forbidden

Hermione was lying in bed, thinking about the situation she had gotten herself into. It was wrong, she knew it. She didn't try to deny it or justify it, and if they ever got caught… well she was going to have to respond to many people. She didn't know if she was strong enough to face those who would have to be faced if the truth came out. But all the same, every time he came to her, she was utterly unable to reject him, just as she had been the first time. Besides, she didn't want to. The scarce hours they spent together were the only moments she was truly happy and genuinely free. She would lie awake, watching him next to her, sleeping peacefully. The sound of his relaxed breathing was the only one that managed to calm her. Every time they said good bye her heart sank. They never knew when they would be together again. It was all so complicated. And although the complexity of the situation was, in part, what made it so exciting, she sometimes fount it too stressful. There were moments when she felt her soul broke and she was certain she was going to give in to the pressure of confessing; but then she though of the repercussions of telling, and her resolution flagged. Next she would decide not to see him again. This pledge never lasted more than a couple of days. The moment he appeared at her doorstep, she would throw herself to his arms and forget about everything and everybody. It was an endless, vicious circle that was destroying her, but it was also what was keeping her alive.

Did she love him? No, she didn't. And she was certain he didn't love her either. It wasn't a matter of love. And it wasn't only physical either. It merely was two souls finding in each other what they needed to feel complete. Just that. It was thus how she had described the situation to the only person who knew about it, her cousin. She hadn't been able to trust anybody else. Not even her best friends, as it was a case of conflict of interests. How she longed to be able to discuss her problem with her childhood friend; she, who knew her better than anybody, would surely understand. She might even be able to come up with a feasible solution. But confessing to her was out of the question, she could never be objective, not when he was…

Hermione had been in America for over two years before it all began. After finishing at Hogwarts she had gotten a job as a magical researcher for a famous company. Her uncanny intelligence had earned her a scholarship for a post-graduate course in New York. Everybody was so excited about it, it would have been impossible for her to turn it down, even if she had wanted to. She knew it was an excellent opportunity, and nothing really tied her to England. Besides, it wasn't something permanent. She would be back in six month, ready to resume her carrier. Or so she thought.

She moved in with her cousin who was working as a secretary for the CEO of an internet company. She was about Hermione's age and they got along great. The only problem was that she was a muggle. For the first weeks Hermione had kept her true nature in secret. However, it has proved more difficult than she has anticipated- and she was soon to realize that a lot of things were- so she ended up confessing. Darla had reacted exactly the opposite as Hermione had imagined. Instead of being scared or freaked out, she was excited. She asked her cousin all kinds of questions; she asked for demonstrations of magic and wanted to see all of Hermione's books. For a couple of hours Hermione feared that her cousin being interested in her world was even worst than her being afraid of it. However, once the initial excitement had passed, Darla went back to treat her cousin as she had always had. That was why Hermione loved her so much. From that moment, the two of them told each other everything, and when the affair began, Darla was the first-and only- to know the whole story. At first she had tried to talk Hermione out of it. But telling her that it wasn't good for her, that she was going to end up hurt had had no effect. Darla was very worried about Hermione, and also about Sam. He was a good man, who was deeply in love with her cousin. What Hermione was doing to him wasn't fair. On the other hand, she understood what the witch was going through and why she needed to do what she was doing. All the same, she didn't approve of it.

Hermione had met Sam at a Christmas party the previous winter. Being a witch, she had had no idea he was running for senator. He was young, attractive and very smart, but with a great sense of humor. He hadn't attract Hermione's attention immediately, partly because he had spent the first half of the night surrounded by people who wanted to congratulate or praise him on something or another, and partly because Hermione hadn't been in the mood to meet anyone, so she followed her cousin everywhere and talked only with her.

However, around ten the man Darla fancied appeared, so she left Hermione alone. The latter moved to the bar and stood there, trying to avoid making contact eye with everyone. But Sam had other plans. He had noticed Hermione the moment he had entered the party and was surprised that such a beautiful woman was alone. Plus, he felt intrigued by the way she was ignoring him. She was about the only person in the party who hadn't come to tell him how much she admired him. Even members of the opposite party had paid him compliments. Who was this woman? The moment he saw she was standing alone, he disengaged himself from his many "new friends" and made straight for her. He was confident enough to address her without fear of rejection. And his self-assuredness caught Hermione's attention.

"Good evening," he said formally.

"Good evening," Hermione answered in the same dry tone she had been using the entire night.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," he continued as if Hermione had been the friendliest person, "but you are making such a hard effort not to enjoy this party that it makes me wonder who you are trying to impress."

"I am not trying to impress anyone," she answered, coldly this time. She gave him such a sharp look she would have scared any man off. But Sam was not easily scared, and once he had set his mind on something, he pursued it till the end.

"Then, may I ask you why are you working so hard on being alone on such a great party?"

"You may if you want, but you won't get an answer," she replied hoping her words were enough to make him understand she wasn't interested. Had she answered like that to someone like Ron or Harry, they would have turned round and left without another word. However, Hermione wasn't counting on Sam's personality.

"That's were you are wrong my dear Miss…."he left the sentence unfinished waiting for Hermione's name.

"Granger," she said curtly.

"Miss Granger. You see, I have a great flaw. I am terribly curious and when there is something I don't know, I work as hard as it takes to find it out. So basically you have two options, either you tell me directly or you'll have to put up with my constant nagging until you give up the information." Coming from another person, those words might have sounded like a threat, but his tone was perfectly fresh, almost amused.

"I just don't feel like talking to anyone. I only came here tonight to keep my cousin company. But now she's found someone to keep her busy, I was seriously considering the idea of going back home."

"Oh but Miss Granger, you can't leave. Not now that I have found you. I'll make a deal with you: give me only half an hour; if after the next thirty minutes you still want to go, I'll ask my personal chauffer to take you home. Deal?"

"Thanks for the kind offer," she said in her most sarcastic tone, "but I'm not interested."

"Ta ta, Miss Granger… I never take no as an answer. Come on, give me just one chance."

He was so insistent that Hermione ended up agreeing, and she actually had a great time with Sam that night. They talked about everything. She was impressed by how well educated he was. It was a pleasure to talk to him about any subject. And they had very similar opinions on a lot of subjects. By the time he dropped her at Darla's apartment, Sam was already madly in love with her, and she had a feeling he was going to be someone important in her life.

He called her the following day and asked her out on a date. By that time Darla had filled Hermione in on Sam's life. She knew who he was and what he did for a living. Yet she was awed by his simplicity and humility. They went out together every single night that week and by New Year's Eve the press was having a feast with their love affair.

Their romance progressed much faster than she would have chosen, but she was happy; or at least she thought so. In a very American Way, Sam took her to a picnic on the July 4th and asked her to marry him under a sky illuminated by the colorful fireworks. Although they had only been dating six months Hermione felt it was the right thing to do, so she accepted after only a moment's hesitation. They both agreed it would be a long engagement, so when Christmas came again the preparations for the marriage hadn't started yet.

That year Sam had been on tour around the country for his campaign, so Hermione had once again accompanied Darla to her usual Christmas party, alone. She had not been expecting to have a good time. It was true that after over a year of being in the States she knew a lot of the people that were to attend the party, and she got along fairly well with them, but she didn't really like the idea of going to a party without her fiancé, in spite of him constantly telling her that she should go and have a good time. Then of course she wasn't counting on seeing him there. The moment she entered the room, the flaming mass of red hair called her attention. Although there were a lot of red-heads in the States, the number was nowhere near to that back home, so every time she saw one of the, she felt a little homesick; specially because she missed her friends. The man who owned the mass of red hair had his back to the wall. He was talking to three young women who seemed enchanted by him. As she walked towards the bar with Darla, she continued to look at the man; there was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn't place what it was.

When Darla asked what she wanted, Hermione focused her attention on the barman. She missed the moment when the man she had been staring at turned round and made his way directly to where she was standing. From the way he looked at her, it appeared that he too thought he knew her. He arrived at the bar at the exact moment Hermione was taking her dry martini from the tender.

"Hermione Granger!" he exclaimed, "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd caught you drinking alcohol!"

Hermione almost dropped the glass in shock. She didn't need to turn to recognize that voice. She knew it only too well. That was why she had felt she knew him. She had spent most of her childhood around him. In fact, she was surprised she hadn't recognized him earlier. But he did have his hair longer now, and of course, she wasn't expecting to find him there. I t was a great surprise, but a good one. She had kept in touch with her friends back in England; she got regular letters from her parents, Harry, Ron and Ginny, but she hadn't actually seen any of them since she had left the island. So finding one of them here was as nice as it was unexpected.

Darla too had turned when she heard her cousin's name. A wide grin spread on her lips. How did Hermione managed to attract the attention of the cutest guys without the sightless effort was something that was beyond her comprehension.

"Well, that's not for lack of trying Fred," Hermione said giving him a sassy smile. "As I remember you trying to get me drunk in every party we had, even at school."

"And I'm afraid to say, I failed terribly," He answered shaking his head. They both laughed and hugged. "It's good to see you."

"And surprising to see you." Hermione was about to ask what he was doing there when she heard Darla clearing he throat.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" she asked looking from her cousin to the gorgeous man she had just hugged.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Fred, this is my cousin Darla. Darla, this is Fred Weasley, a friend from England." They shook hands and exchanged greetings. Fred had a killer smile, and Darla was already making up her mind on how to capture his attention when he turned to Hermione again.

"How have you been 'Mione? Everyone misses you back home. There isn't a gathering when your name doesn't come up and we all exchange the latest news about you and saying how much we miss you."

"I've missed you too. I've driven everyone insane with stories about you all. They even threatened to abandon me if I told another story about you people."

"Of course, she forgot to mention that her British friends were so… cute," Darla interrupted glaring at her cousin for having made such an unforgivable omission. Fred smiled and said something funny, but his eyes never left Hermione.

Some of the girls he had been talking to were trying to get back his attention, but from the very beginning it was clear that he only had eyes for Hermione. Even the latter-usually oblivious to male attention- felt it. And even more strange, she liked it. In less than an hour they had caught up with each others lives and it was as if Hermione had never left England. Darla soon realized that her fruitless attempts to seduce Fred were taking her nowhere, so she turned to the handsome barman who kept giving her free drinks.

In the mean time, Hermione realized that she hadn't realized how much she had missed Fred. Oddly enough, she didn't think about asking what was up with the others. Fred's statement that everyone back home was fine and that they missed had, somehow, been all she needed to know. The following morning, Hermione would wonder about the reason for her lack of interest on her so called best friends. The most logical explanation was that she already knew everything about them though their constant letters, but, deep down, she sensed there was something else, as she would confirm later on.

That night they talked as they had never done before in their lives. In fact, they had never exchanged more than a handful of words at a time; each was surprised at how much the other knew about him or her. Fred knew how much was to Hermione than just rules and work; he had even said, matter-of-factly, how he admired her passion, much more than her wits. He commented on her work after Hogwarts and congratulated her on everything she had done during her stay in the States. Hermione was amazed and fluttered on the high regard he showed for her. However, she wasn't far behind in her feelings for this Weasley twin. After a couple of drinks she confessed that he had always been her favorite of the pair. She thought his jokes were deeper and more intelligent than George's and she suspected it was because he was more sensitive. Hermione explained that her respect for them had grown considerably after her first trip to Weasley Wizard Wishes and that they hadn't let her down. She declared they were as inventive as good with figures and business.

It was hard to tell which of the two was more pleased by the end of the night. Around one a.m. the party was coming to an end and both of them were sorry to say good bye, in spite of having made planes to have lunch in two days time.

"Do you want a lift?" Fred asked shoveling his car keys ostentatiously, but winking at the same time and ruining the effect.

"No thanks, my… er… I've got one already." She wasn't sure why she had refrained from telling Fred that her fiancée had left his personal driver at her disposal. To cover the awkward moment she asked, "Since when do you drive?"

"I do when I'm in the muggle world. It's slower than apparating, but much more comfortable and relaxing," he explained. "Anyway, it was great seeing you tonight," he said in a tone Hermione had never heard, from him. "See you on Thursday then?"

"Yeap, at one o'clock, be there on time!" she warned playfully.

"I would never keep you waiting," he said, but his tone was serious. He squeezed her hand and felt the diamond on her engagement rind, which was upside down. Neither of them commented on it, but Hermione could see something very much like disappointment on Fred's eyes.

The ride back home was horrible. Hermione had never felt so guilty in her life. And the fact that she wasn't sure why she was feeling so low made it worst. When she thought about Sam her heart gave a pang. She hadn't mentioned him to Fred, but why? Surely the first thing you told a friend you hadn't seen for a while was that you were engaged, right? Yet, it hadn't felt right. The subject of relationships hadn't come up. She didn't know if Fred was involved with someone at the moment, but somehow she knew he wasn't. And when she thought about Fred she felt a double pang, one for having omitted her engagement and the other one for thinking about him when she was engaged.

'Alcohol does funny things to people,' she tried to console herself as she entered her apartment, but she was far too smart to believe that crap, even from herself.

Darla arrived home very late and very drunk, so she didn't ask Hermione anything. By next morning the novelty of Fred had worn off, there were much juicier new to discuss- meaning, Darla had a new date for the wedding, a weekly occurrence- and Hermione managed to push the topic to the back of her mind. That was until the moment she saw him again. Sensing his aftershave was enough to send her heart into a beating frenzy in a way-she painfully realized- Sam had never been able to do.

"Hey there 'Mione," he said, spreading his trademark grin the moment he saw her sitting at one of the outside tables of the café where they had agreed to meet. It was Hermione's favorite: small, kind of shabby, it went unnoticed next to the other fancy New York restaurants and this suited her perfectly. Dating a politician and keeping your private life private seemed to be an unaccomplishable task, but Hermione was usually up to any challenge. Yet, something told her that they should sit inside. It may have been an unnecessary precaution, after all Fred was only her friend, they had nothing to hide. But by now she knew all too well the kind of stories tabloids could come up with and it wasn't her wish to be the subject of the title: known politician's girlfriend seen with the would-be father of her unborn child, or something like that. No, it was better to be cautious.

"Hello Fred," she greeted him warmly. "Let's go inside. It's a bit chilly." Fred didn't object.

Once they were sited and had ordered their food, Fred began to ask Hermione about her latest work and he listened intently to her explanation. There was nothing in her tone or in her facial expression to reveal the mixture of feelings that were bubbling under the surface. She described in great detail what she had been doing for the last six months and Fred appeared to be taking in every word, but his eyes never left hers, the window to her soul. Hermione's work derived in memories of their times at Hogwarts and they spent an amicable meal reminiscing older times. Neither of them realized as the minutes escaped the clocks and when they noticed the time, they had been together most of the afternoon. They kept ordering coffees or another soda, unconsciously postponing the moment of farewell; unconsciously?

By the time the waitress had left on the table their fifth cup of coffee, there wasn't a memory they hadn't discussed, yet both of them were as reluctant to leave as to talk about the pink elephant between them.

"So," Fred said looking around.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Hermione's already excited heart beat faster, missing a beat every two.

"Global warming? The rock on your hand of course!" He said taking her hand and turning the diamond ring on Hermione's finger. She looked at it, guilt written all over her face.

"I thought you knew, I did write to Ginny and Ron and told them about it," lied Hermione, looking away to conceal her mixture of embarrassment and remorse. Fred didn't answer. He was waiting for her to elaborate. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but found that she couldn't. Inexplicably, she didn't want Fred to know about Sam. At that very moment, she wanted to forget about him herself. She had an irresistible desire to take out the ring and give it to the first person who walked by their table. Only thinking about it made her feel free; it was as though a pressure she didn't know existed but that had been strong against her chest has suddenly banished. What did all of this mean?

Fred's eyes were still locked on Hermione's. He knew exactly what was going on inside her heart. Both of them felt it, both of them knew. In unison they leaned their heads forward and met in a glorious, Hollywood-like kiss. No explanations were needed; Hermione wouldn't have been able to give one in any case. She had never done anything so impulsive in her life, and nothing she had done before felt so right and so wrong at the same time.

That was how it had begun. That very afternoon they went back to his apartment together. Fred turned out to be everything Sam was and a couple of things he wasn't. Having been raised by Molly Weasley, he was every bit a gentleman, but he was also funny and spontaneous. Moreover, Hermione like the person she became when he was with him. She let her hair down and allowed most of her inhibitions to disappear. However, the moment she returned to her fiancé, she built up all her walls again.

That day Fred had opened a world of possibilities to her, he took her somewhere she had never dreamed to go. But at the same time, he had showed her everything she was going to lose the moment she said "I do". It was like taking a kid to the biggest toyshop and tell him that he could try any toy he wanted, but he could take none home. They never spoke about Hermione's situation, but there was a silent understanding between them that everything would end the moment she was married. And of course, because life is a very ironic thing, as the date grew near, their passion grew stronger. Hermione found it increasingly difficult to find excuses to deny herself spending time with him. Sam's constant trips made it a little easier for the lovers, no wait, that is not the word; after all they didn't love each other, right?

"You look beautiful tonight," Fred told her, kissing her on the forehead. She had her hair down, forming a sea of brown weaves on his pillow. The only light were the moon rays coming through the window. She smiled at him sadly. Fred's kiss had brought her out of her reverie.

"What's wrong 'Mione?" he asked frowning at her gesture.

"Sam's coming back tomorrow," she answered quietly. It was a weird thing for her to say, as there were two topics they never discussed: Hermione's fiancé and their upcoming wedding.

"Oh," what's the only thing Fred could think of saying. Hermione looked away. They had just shared an amazing night, one of their bests. They had talked and laughed, among other things. They had eaten in bed together, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Why had she felt the urge to break the charm?

"I don't understand why you go on with this farce," he said sitting up and hugging his knees. "I mean, if he doesn't make you happy, by don't you call the wedding off?"

"I couldn't do that to him," Hermione replied, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Funny, you can't break the engagement, but you can marry him without loving him." Fred had never used such a sarcastic tone with her. Hermione didn't know if she was more offended or hurt.

"Since when do you care?" She replied, getting up and starting to collect her clothes. She was fuming, but Fred wasn't remotely scared of her. He too got up and walked across the room to face her. It wasn't the first time passions grew fast between them; however, it was the first time they were mad at each other.

"What do you mean, 'since when do I care'? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you really believe that you marrying someone else doesn't bother me? Hasn't it ever occurred to you that every time you walk out that door my heart breaks a little? Do you even know why I'm in this country?" He was shouting, but he needn't have to. His words were strong enough to freeze Hermione more effectively than if he had used a stunning spell. As she heard him speak, it dawned on her that she actually didn't know what Fred had come to the States. She had assumed it had had something to do with the shop, may be they were thinking about opening a branch there. But he had never mentioned anything about it; and worst, she it had never occurred to her to ask him. She had been so immersed in her own little melodrama that she had turned completely blind.

Hermione was speechless and she didn't feel strong enough to move a muscle. She stayed there, merely looking at the man in front of him. Tears had started to run down his face as he finished collecting all of her garments. For the first time he was misreading her silences and what was written in her eyes.

"I don't need to show you the door, do I?" He asked icily thrusting the clothes on her arms and turning away from her. Hermione didn't move. She just stayed there, looking at him, in shock. She was shocked by his words, shocked by his actions, but most of all, she was shocked by the stream of feelings that was flooding her system.

"Why are you here Fred?" she asked, dreading and wishing one answer.

"Why do you think I'm here?" He glared. But he was passed anger. He was passed pretty much everything. This was it. It was now or never. "I'm here because I love you, Hermione Granger. I'm here because the moment I heard of your engagement I felt my world end. I came here to convince myself that you were gone, to carry on with my life. But then I saw you; you looked at me and everything changed. Your eyes told me what your heart didn't want to accept. And I decided to give you the time you needed to realize… But the time is up now. You have to make your choice."

"I- you never- why didn't you?" Hermione had lost the ability to utter a coherent sentence.

"Why I didn't say anything before? Gosh Hermione, you can be really thick some times. I have loved you for a long time now. But you never showed any signs of returning my feelings. It would have been stupid of me to ruin the friendship we shared with the truth. I thought your being away from London was going to make everything go away, but it didn't. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. When we started this, I thought that may be, you did love me back. But now I don't know what to think. I love you Hermione, I really do. And if I have put up with sharing you was because I believed you felt the same. Now I'm standing on the edge of a cliff and one word from you can make me jump or walk back to your arms…" He looked at her hopefully. She was trying to process everything he had just said, but only a phrase had penetrated her brain, he loved her. She had been so certain all this time that what they shared wasn't love. She had been so certain of her own feelings. She couldn't think straight. The look of Fred, his face, a mix of hope, fear and anxiousness clouded her mind. The air was still ringing with the sadness in his voice.

Silence can be a very eloquent way of speaking, sometimes even more than words. But then again, it can lead to very nasty misunderstandings. Hermione knew this. Fred was waiting for an answer; her lack of response wasn't helping. However, this was one of those rare occasions when she didn't know what to say. Did she love Fred? Of course she did, she loved all the Weasleys. But no, that wasn't true. With the shock that only such a realization can bring, Hermione acknowledged a fact: she didn't love Fred like she loved the rest of the Weasleys. That was how she loved Sam…

She couldn't believe it had happened to her again. She had misread her feelings so badly, and it wasn't the first time. The same had occurred with Ron. For years she had thought she was in love with him, that he was the man of her dreams. Luckily, she had seen her mistake before any of them was hurt and their friendship had never been anything more than that. How had she been so shortsighted not to see it was the same with Sam? Now she thought about it, her feelings for him were exactly the same she had had for Ron. Perhaps it had been because Sam failed to annoy her in all the ways Ron had when they were young; but all the same, it was inexcusable for her not to identify the true nature of her emotions.

Hermione was horrified. And not only did she feel terrible for the situation with Sam, but also she still didn't know how Fred fitted in her life. She tried to trace her emotions from the moment she had seen him at that party. Her heart had beaten furiously when she had heard his voice. At that time she had confused the sign with the pleasure of meeting someone from home, but she wasn't so naïve now. She was starting to face the truth, and it was bittersweet.

The question was, why had she been excited to see him? If their affair (she couldn't really call it that anymore) had started after that party. Fred had said that he had loved her since long before coming to New York. Some flashes of their life at Hogwarts and summers she had spent at the Burrow came to her. Now, in retrospect, she could see all the signs were there. He had always been kind to her, in a way he hadn't been with anyone; and in more than one occasion he had came up with the most farfetched excuses to talk to her. Those memories made her blush with pleasure. Could it be that she had also nested feelings for him, even since so long ago? Looking up at him, seeing him with his soul open wide to him, and his heart in his hands, ready to hand it over brought home the answer she had refused to see for so long. In a second, she made up her mind. With the back of her hand, she wiped the tears from Fred's face and said,

"The only way I'd let you jump to that cliff, is if you are holding my hand and I can fall with you."

"If you want to fall with me, then none of us is jumping," he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her with such love and tenderness it made her heart lift to heaven.

The following days weren't precisely happy, but as Fred had reasonably pointed out, Hermione would have broken the engagement at some point, and at least now she had him to comfort her. Sam was devastated when she told him she was going back to England, but he took the blow stoically. He said that a part of him had always known she didn't love him as she loved her and that he wished her the best, not hard feelings. He thanked her for her honesty and refused to accept back the ring; it had been a present for her, he said. Hermione wished with all her heart he found someone who could love him the way he deserved to be love, he was a great man and she cared greatly for him.

Darla was almost as sad as Sam to see Hermione leave. They were going to miss each other terribly, but Darla promised to visit her England the first opportunity she had and she was very excited about getting to know more wizards and see how they lived. Her curiosity had turned out to be almost as bad as Mr. Weaseley was with muggles.

Hermione and Fred were really looking forward to start their new life together. They were a little nervous about the reactions their family and friends might have, but they were certain of one thing: they loved each other, and that was all that mattered.

THE END