Chapter 3

"I've had a thought, maybe it's all those Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products left unfinished!" Fred had become a lot more light hearted as time went on, and not quite happy, but content.

Hermione was glad to see his old self gradually emerging, as he grew used to the fact that he was probably going to be a ghost for a while. She found she enjoyed being around him more, and actively looked forward to the times when she could visit him.

She raised her eyebrow sceptically at his cheeky grin. It was rather endearing actually, the way one end of his mouth pointed upwards slightly, showing a hint of straight, white teeth; and the little boyish creases at the at the corners of his eyes. She'd never realised.

"I highly doubt it,"

He laughed.

"I know, I know," he drifted over the sofa next to her, "but hey, the shop was important to me,"

She felt his sadness like catching a cold. She hated it. It made her want to travel the world in search of the reason for why he was being subjected to this.

Actually, no. She wanted to scour the Earth in search of a way to bring him back. To George, Ron, Ginny, Mrs Weasley.

To her.

Fred smiled again.

"You have no idea how good I felt when you first came to the shop, and you called our magic extraordinary,"

Hermione beamed at the memory, he cheeks a little pink.

"Well you have no idea how good it felt when you defended me from Malfoy the first time he called me Mudblood,"

Fred looked livid at the memory, and then scoffed.

"More like tried; damn Flint stopped us," he muttered.

"It was enough," she insisted, "I felt special, I felt … liked,"

Fred grinned sheepishly, Hermione got the distinct impression that if he were alive, he would be blushing too.

"There's something I've been wondering; how did you know this was my parents house?"

Fred thought for a second, then shrugged.

"I didn't really, I just … I had a feeling."

She looked into his eyes, barely realising that he was looking into hers. They should be brown, she thought. She missed them.

She didn't know how long they sat there with their gazes locked, but the spell was broken when he began to awkwardly rub the back of his neck and clear his throat.

She was rather sad the moment was over, and twisted a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. She wanted his eyes back.

"So you uh, better get going right?" he murmured.

She looked up. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring at the floor. An overwhelming feeling of disappointment evaded her.

"Right," she said sadly.

"See you when I see you," he mumbled, and with that, he'd flown out of the room.

Hermione visited Fred more and more often for longer periods of time, even when she had nothing new to tell him. And strangely enough, he didn't seem to mind when she had no news or ideas.

They increasingly talked about themselves rather than just the Weasleys and his unfinished business.

But Hermione found she was becoming more annoyed with herself.

Why had she not spent more time with him when he was alive? He was such a good, caring person. She guessed she'd always known that, but never really known how much. She knew George much better now as well and she'd always thought that he was the nicer one of the two of them.

But she was wrong; Fred could be just as sweet as George.

This was when she became really angry with herself. Fred was dead, what was she doing becoming close to him now, when it was only a matter of time before she would lose him all over again?

But she couldn't stay away.

It was one of those times where Hermione was there for no particular reason. She was cleaning the wooden kitchen surfaces, waving her wand and muttering spells under her breath. Fred was hovering over the table top, watching her work.

"Do you remember the Yule Ball?" he suddenly asked. She gave a small laugh.

"How could I not?"

"Ah yes, my little brother and his terrible jealousy," he joked, but then he said more seriously, "I'm sorry about him." Hermione shook her head.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault," she went back to her cleaning, "you went with Angelina didn't you?"

Fred chuckled.

"Yeah, I did," he paused. He looked from side to side, as if checking no on was around, and then leaned in closer to Hermione, "Want to know a secret?" he whispered comically.

"Yes please," she said, intrigued now.

"The only reason I asked her was so that no one else could," he admitted.

"What?" She didn't understand.

He didn't say anything but raised one eyebrow. It took her a moment, before it suddenly hit her.

"Oh! So George …?"

"Yup," he smirked. Hermione was shocked.

"Then why didn't he ask her?"

Fred scoffed.

"Way too scared. He liked her too much and wouldn't have been able to bear it if she'd rejected him; he's a big softie at heart you see,"

"Well who does Angelina like?" she asked. Fred bit his lip in thought.

"Well that's the thing. After I asked her, I got the feeling that she thought I was George and that's why she said yes," he explained. Hermione thought for a moment.

"I think I may need to get them together,"

"Please do, I think it would help him,"

"I will."

They smiled at each other for a minute, before his expression changed. It became more serious. That was becoming a habit of his lately.

"You were beautiful that night,"

Hermione was surprised, and smiled a bit wider.

"Thank you," and oh Merlin that smile; she was amazed angels didn't start singing. His now grey eyes twinkled mischievously. They had … life.

"So, who did you really want to go with?"

He stopped, and really, really thought about it. Something seemed to occur to him, but she was surprised when he appeared to hide it and simply said,

"I don't know really. I didn't think about it much."

She could see he wasn't being truthful, but before she could question him on the matter, he'd gone from the room.

She wished he would stop doing that.