Existentialism – Chapter Three

Fred/Hermione

It was only about ten minutes later when Hermione placed the Prophet back on the table and said she was going to get dressed, so she could go get some breakfast, that Fred allowed himself to sink into the couch, letting out a huge lungful of air head been containing in his chest. His mind was playing so many games on him again, and seeing her this morning wasn't helping to clear the confusing fog in his brain.

Fred was and had been for the past few months harbouring a crush on the curly-haired, button-nosed, curvy bookworm. It had started earlier that year, when they were staying at Grimmauld Place over the summer – he could remember one distinct moment, when Hermione's cat had chewed off the extendable ear when they were eavesdropping on the grownups. Fred had said in a disgruntled murmur, "Hermione, I hate your cat."

And in that moment, Hermione had glanced up and stared at him with big, golden-brown eyes and he felt like he was melting. He had tried to ignore it but he'd never felt like that before. She had looked past George and stared right at him, and he saw her not as his little brother's nerdy, frizzy-haired friend, but as a young beautiful woman who was everything Fred could ever dream of.

And over the course of the term, Fred had increasingly found himself falling further and further for Hermione, and no matter how much he tried to stop he couldn't just ignore those feelings.

His desire and guilt were battling constantly in his brain to figure out what exactly he was going to do about it. His desire longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her, mould his lips to hers, press every inch of their skin together and learn those alluring curves with his greedy hands – he knew everything about her mind, but he had begun to desire more, he wanted to find out everything about her mind and her body…

His guilt, however, was what caused all of the headaches. He wanted Hermione, but she was younger, and she was so wonderful and he would corrupt her, and she was Ron's best friend and Ron would murder him…

It was a difficult time for Fred, and seeing Hermione meander across the room in her thin pyjama pants and that white singlet which was riding up and showing the pale skin across her hips, and the way she ran her hand through her hair as she pushed it back from her face – Fred was in torture.

Not just because of the mental image, but because of the memories. And the guilt. Oh Merlin, the guilt… Fred let out a groan, and he covered his face with his hands – and then a voice said, "Something wrong, Freddie?"

Fred didn't jump at the sudden voice, because no matter how hard they tried, the twins could never sneak up on each other. George was a part of Fred, and his voice was no shock to him.

Fred opened his eyes, peering out through his fingers, and he spotted his brother wander over to the couch and sit beside him. George gave him a cheeky grin and said, "C'mon, mate, out with it."

He let out an exasperated sigh, and as he glanced quickly around the room, George said, "There's nobody else here."

"No, she is here – upstairs," Fred replied quietly, pointing at the girl's staircase. "She just came down here in her bloody pyjamas, George. Pyjamas!" Fred slumped back down again and sighed. "I'm going crazy."

George couldn't help but smile at his distraught twin, a cheeky grin creeping on his face. "You are officially nuts, Fred."

"You're telling me?" Fred grumbled. He had told George a while ago about the feelings he was harbouring for Hermione, and George, for all of his teasing, had kept it totally confidential. It was between them, and nobody was going to find out until Fred decided what he was going to do.

George was about to reply, when the creak of stairs from behind the couch made him look up, and he saw Hermione's hair above the top rail. "She's coming," George mouthed, before he casually threw one leg over the other and reclined.

Fred sat up a bit, and ran a hand through his hair (as though she would even notice that he'd brushed it that morning), and tried to appear normal. Hermione had reached the bottom of the staircase and she appeared in the edge of his vision, and she said, "Oh, hello George. Have a nice sleep?"

"Not bad," he said with a smile. "I was woken up by that thunderstorm, but other than that – "

"Thunderstorm?" she repeated, interrupting, before she frowned. "That probably explains why I'm feeling tired." She looked up and locked eyes with Fred, and then said, "Are you alright Fred? You look quite pale."

Fred nodded hurriedly. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Hermione looked a little worried, but let it go. "Alright. I'll be down in the hall – see you in a bit."

George gave her a small wave, and watched her go out of the portrait hall, and then he swung his head towards Fred and wiggled his eyebrows. "Thunderstorm keeping her up all night, eh?"

"Shut up," Fred sighed. "I – I was in her room last night, but –"

"But what?" George saw that his brother was worried, and his jokes disappeared. "What happened, Fred?" he said insistently, leaning forward, watching as his brother's eyes shimmered, and then –

A tear slipped from Fred's eye, rolling slowly down his freckled cheek. "I tampered with her memory," he whispered, voice shaking. "I – the thunder woke her, and she saw me, and – I told her I was there to make sure she was okay. I – I kissed her, and she stopped me, and I realised that – I would lose her because of what I had done. So I erased the memory." Fred shook his head, and sniffed. "I can't believe I did that. I feel awful."

George hadn't seen his brother so devastated, but doing something like that to the girl he adored was obviously taking a toll. George reached out, and placed his hand on Fred's shoulder. "It's okay, Fred," he said, "It was an accident. You panicked. It doesn't have to happen again. It'll be okay, and – and she'll like you if you give her a chance to. Okay?"

Fred looked up at his brother, and he nodded, head drooping, as he wiped away the tears.

George managed a grim smile, and they waited for a few minutes for Fred to clean himself up, and then they went down to the great hall for breakfast.