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This time very special thanks go to my tumblr. guru druifje, who did the beta work on this chapter!

Hermione Granger –

Fred was sure he had never met a worse know-it-all than her and the passion with which she stuck to the rules had driven him crazy for years. Back in the old days of Hogwarts he had seen her every day, yet he wouldn't have been able to tell the colour of her eyes. But now he knew. Her eyes were brown – gold brown when she was happy; almost black when she was mad.

The war and Dumbledore's army had made them become friends of sorts and when she and Ron had finally found each other, he had been nothing but happy for them. But now, almost two years later, his feelings for her had changed and he suddenly didn't know how to act around her anymore.

It drove him mad just being in the same room with her, seeing her with Ron and knowing she was perfectly happy with a man that wasn't him. At the same time it was becoming almost impossible for him to hide away in his room, while she was under the same roof, probably worrying about him that very moment. Because that's how she was – the Weasleys were her second family and she cared for every single one of them.

His behaviour during dinner had obviously hurt her and Fred was ashamed of the way he cowardly had sent his brother to apologize.

But his hand was still tingling where it had touched hers and he didn't believe that after everything he had been through those past few days, he still possessed enough emotional strength to just sit there and pretend like he felt nothing for her but friendship.

He closed his eyes with a deep sigh.

He still remembered the day she made his heart skip a beat for the first time.

It had been Boxing Day at the Burrow, when she had flashed his mother that brilliant smile of hers; like the simple scarf she had just unwrapped was the most precious gift she had ever been given. Angelina and he had gotten into a terrible fight just before the holidays, because he had told her that he wanted to spend Christmas with his family at the Burrow and not at her parents' holiday home in France.

She had been so mad him and looking back he understood why, seeing that she had spent the last holiday with him and his family. She thought it was only fair that this time it would be the other way round. And it was, of course he saw that now. But back then he had been so sure that there was a hidden accusation he heard in her words, had been sure the humble way his family went about the celebration wouldn´t be good enough for her, so they both had gone their respective ways. She had gone to France with her parents and he had stayed behind, almost certain that this had marked the end of their story.

Hermione's honest joy at his mother's simple gift had touched him then. When they had all gone out into the garden for a snowball fight that afternoon he couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked being all smiles, with her cheeks flushed red from the cold and the colourful scarf wrapped around her neck.

That image of her had stuck with him for days, but then Angelina came back. She had apologised and he had apologised and of course they had made up and the image of Hermione in the snow had started to fade a bit more every day until everything had been back to normal. Almost.

Three weeks ago Hermione suddenly had showed up at the shop.

She had been in Diagon Alley to look for a birthday present for Ron on one of her rare free days and had spontaneously decided to pay him and his brother a visit. She had even brought sandwiches and pumpkin juice from the Leaky Cauldron, because she knew of the twins´ bad habit of not eating anything if things got busy in the shop. Unfortunately she had picked a bad day for her surprise visit. George left early in the morning to buy commodities, the shop was as good as empty because of the, as he and his brother called it, "post Christmas depression" and after another fight with Angelina he had been in a really bad mood. But when he told Hermione she just waved it off with a laugh and told him that even a joker like him was allowed a bad day every once in a while.

She then joined him behind the counter and they spend hours just eating and chatting away about anything and everything. He couldn't even remember the last time Angelina and he had been able to pass time that easily and when George had returned sometime in the afternoon, Fred had caught himself toying with the thought of sending him away again with some excuse just to be alone with Hermione for a little longer.

It was only when Hermione had hugged him goodbye that he had realised she smelled just like Christmas at the Burrow – of caramel and cinnamon and a hint of the old books she loved so much. Her smell had brought back memories of her in the snow and his life hadn't been the same ever since.

He could hear the others laugh downstairs in the kitchen and even through the closed bedroom door he thought he could clearly distinguish her voice from all the others. He was dying to go and sit with them. But he didn't dare leaving his room for he didn't trust himself around Hermione anymore. His family was everything to him and for now the thought of hurting his little brother was even more agonising than his desire for her could have ever been. As much as his heart broke at the mere thought of it, he knew that he had to stay away from Hermione until he had regained some control over his feelings.

Still, when he was lying in his bed later that night, staring blankly at the dark ceiling, it was the memory of her face, the look in her eyes the moment he had pulled his hand away that kept him wide awake.