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As if by chance Hermione's holiday time was the same as Hogwarts' time off and she decided to take the time to find herself a flat. As much as she loves staying at the Burrow with the Weasley's, sometimes she just needs her space; she can't stay there forever. She was sitting in the living room of the Burrow waiting for Molly to come through and tell everyone that it was time for dinner. She was looking through some property portfolios before dinner when George came in to the living area and sat down on the couch next to her.

"Hey Hermione, is Fred in yet?"

"No, I didn't know he was coming" she replied: much like a swan she was cool and collected on the outside (above the water) but underneath her mind was in a panic. As she was trying to calm her nerves, there was large green flamed appearing from the fireplace and a slightly dishevelled looking Weasley twin stepped out from the floo. George stood up and said:

"You look rough Gred:"

"Oh thanks bro" Fred growled at his twin and replaced George on the couch next to Hermione.

"Hey 'Mione"

"Hey Fred, are you okay?"

"I'm fine" was all he said before he laid his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

George and Hermione shared a look as if the other knew what they were thinking and they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Was Fred Weasley actually sick? No... surely not... it wasn't possible! Was it?

Molly Weasley came through the living area to call all of the youngsters in for dinner when she took one look at Fred . The look on her face changed from happiness and glee and was now etched with worry for her son. She looked over at George and Hermione and knew they were thinking the same thing too.

"Oh my dear; are you sick?"

Molly sat next to Fred and used her wand to check his temperature, she winced when she seen that he had a fever. Fred Weasley was sick, he hadn't been sick in years and even when he was he denied it until he had to go to his mother for a healing spell because he couldn't play quidditch. So here it began Fred's denial:

"I am not sick! I cannot believe you would think I'd get sick." He said his voice slightly wheezy and nasally.

"I'm never sick and I don't need any help thank you before you offer, even if I was sick I'd be all like 'come at me bro! Cuz that's just how we roll – us Weasley's.'"

Fred looked around at the clueless faces of his family and Hermione in the living room and realised he's watched way too many muggle movies on some contraption called a 'TV'.

"Okay then" said Molly but she then proceeded to give Fred a whole speach about how he was not to go crying to her for any healing spells for the next week or so.

They then sat through their family dinner with Harry, Hermione, Luna and Katie of course although Fred wasn't himself. He didn't laugh as much and the mischief and mirth in his eyes were replaced with a tired and weary look. Hermione tried to brush it off as just a 24hr bug or just a little flu bug that won't last long, but she missed the liveliness in his eyes, especially when he looked at her after a joke or a prank and his big brown orbs glistened in the light. Fred also didn't eat as much as he usually does and it is so unlike a Weasley to ever turn down food, much less his mothers cooking.

Fred left early that night saying he had a busy day cleaning his flat the next day as it was his day off, he hadn't had any time lately as the shop had been so busy. When Fred had bid his goodbyes and left through the floo network, the Burrow was oddly silent as everyone around the table were trying to process what had just happened: Fred Weasley had skipped dessert: Chocolate pudding and ice-cream to be precise – he really was ill. By this time Hermione had already decided she was going to check up on him tomorrow: she'd find an excuse no matter what.