At night, Hermione let herself feel everything she was afraid to feel when the sun was out.
It had only been three days since the wedding, but it felt like a lifetime. She thought of that night again.
She thought of how the last time she saw Harry, he was disguised as a chubby little muggle, and how she didn't know when she'd get to see his messy hair and kind eyes again. She thought of his hand reaching out to her, but disappearing before she could reach it. She still wasn't sure why they left and it was torture not knowing where they were. Not knowing if they were okay or how she could help.
She thought of how Ron asked her to dance, out of jealousy, sure, but they danced nonetheless. She thought of his hand on her waist and how his face lit up when he laughed. She thought of how scared she was when she couldn't find him after the Death Eaters attacked. She remembered his face while she was running towards them, filled with relief and fear and something else she couldn't quite place.
She thought of how she felt so alone.
She began to tremble and the walls seemed to suffocate her. Peeking over the side of the bed to where Ginny slept soundly on the floor, Hermione slowly eased herself out from under the covers, grabbed her wand, and tiptoed out of the room.
"Lumos," she whispered. She was making her way slowly down the stairs and into the living room when she heard a noise in the kitchen. Putting out her light, she peered around the corner, ready to attack. Her brows furrowed at the sight before her.
"Fred?" She stepped fully around the corner.
"What the—"
Hermione laughed as he shot up in surprise and banged his head on the fridge. "Careful!"
"Bloody hell, Hermione! You nearly gave me a heart attack," he panted, slamming the door and spinning around to face her. She laughed again. "What are you doing down here, it's the middle of the night?"
"Well, what are you doing down here?" she asked in response.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, holding up a sandwich.
"Typical."
"Hey, don't judge. You never told me what you were doing"
Hermione shrugged offhandedly. "I just felt like I needed to get out of the house. Think. Get some air, I guess."
She struggled to make out his expression; the only light was coming from the moon. Fred tilted his head at her and she felt like he could read her mind. She silently thanked the darkness for hiding the blush that crept into her cheeks at his unwavering gaze.
"Actually, I might just—" she started, beginning to turn back to the stairs.
"Do you want some company?" he offered, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"Um, I—You don't… It's—" she stammered.
He chuckled heartily. "It's a simple yes or no, I just thought you might like a big, strong man to accompany you." She could just barely make out his wink in the dim light.
"For your information, I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own," she retorted.
"So, no?"
She opened her mouth to say, 'no, in fact, I don't need your company, I'm fine on my own,' but instead found herself saying, "That might be nice."
Hermione seemed as surprised as Fred when she said yes to his invitation.
"Oh, okay," he said, wide eyes betraying his surprise. "Well, come on then," he continued, recovering from his shock with a friendly smile.
He set his sandwich on the counter and made his way to the door, gesturing for Hermione to follow him.
They stepped out into the brisk night air and into the garden. They made idle small talk for a while and Fred was distinctly aware of how their shoulders occasionally brushed together as they walked. He had to keep himself from staring at her while she talked. Although she had been hovering around his peripheral since he was a third year, he had never spent time with her like this, and he found he enjoyed it quite a bit more than he probably should.
On the edge of the orchard, Fred saw a tree that had fallen over in the skirmish a few days ago and walked over to it, welcoming Hermione to sit next to him.
He saw what he thought to be hesitation cross over her face before waving at him to make room for her.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, taking a deep breath. Without looking at him, she said "Thank you for walking with me. This is has been a welcome distraction."
"From what?" he prompted.
Hermione turned to look at him. "I don't know. Everything."
"Come on, I know you probably don't think I'm capable of being serious but we're…friends, wouldn't you say?"
She nibbled her lip in consideration and looked into her lap, where she was twisting her hands.
"Hermione." He mentally chastised himself for what he was about to do and how it would make everything so much more complicated for him. But he held his breath to quiet down his heart, which was hammering in his chest, and reached out to gently tilt her to head to face him anyways. He met her with the most genuine gaze he could muster. "You can talk to me."
She nodded and he dropped his hand from her face and exhaled heavily.
"Don't look at me when I'm talking though," she ordered. He laughed and held his hands up.
"Whatever you need." He meant it.
He let his eyes slide shut. He heard her shifting uncomfortably before she finally spoke.
"I guess… I'm confused. I really resent the boys for leaving me here, but I know I should be thankful I'm not out there, in danger, and instead I'm here with a loving family." He heard her sigh shakily. "It seems… wrong… for me to feel that way, when you guys lost them too but…" she sniffed.
He could feel her steam running out so, eyes still closed, he offered her a hand in support and warmed when she took it tentatively.
"I know Harry is like a brother to you, and Ron is actually your brother, but, for me, Harry is the only brother I've ever known and with Ron it's…"
Fred squeezed his eyes shut tighter, quashing the twinge of jealousy that bloomed in his stomach. "Complicated," he finished for her. "I know. He likes you too, you know."
He couldn't see her expression, but he heard her sharp gasp. "Has he—"
"No, he hasn't told me, but everyone can see it. He might not even realize he does." He sighed. "He would be crazy not to," he finished, nearly inaudibly.
She didn't say anything for a long while, and he opened his eyes to find her looking at him curiously.
"Sorry, I—"
She cut him off abruptly. "Thank you."
He felt his cheeks warm. "Any time," he replied, unable to repress the small smile that spread to his lips. She rose to her feet and he was disappointed when she dropped his hand to brush herself off, but smiled again when she extended her hand to pull him up and then looped her arm through his as they walked back to the house in easy silence.
She stopped at the door.
"I meant what I said earlier Fred. Thank you. This was… enlightening."
He couldn't help the laugh that burst from him. "That's me, wise beyond my years, offering insight and enlightenment to all who seek it."
Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling. "Well, way to ruin it." She gave his arm a squeeze. "Goodnight, Fred, O' Wise One." He chuckled again and sat on the stoop when she closed the door behind her.
Hermione settled herself in bed and tucked the covers under her chin.
Enlightening? What kind of idiotic word was that?
She huffed at herself and found her thoughts wandering to very different places than they had before their walk.
She'd always had her suspicions that Ron fancied her, but hearing some sort of confirmation from Fred had made her heart leap with joy.
However, she also realized something else: Despite their years long friendship, Ron had never shown her the sort of compassion and willingness to just listen and be present as Fred had tonight.
She thought back to first year, how upset she'd been when she'd heard him talking about her to Harry. And how consistently he mocked her for her dedication to school.
She remembered how cruel he'd been to her when before the Yule Ball and how she let him ruin a perfectly good night. She had thought a few times that she deserved better than just waiting around for him. Someone who listened to her intently and made her laugh, like—
At that, she guiltily shook the thoughts out of her head.
Ron was her best friend.
And he could be incredibly sweet and that was what she liked so much about him. She thought again of when they danced at the wedding and how jealous he had gotten around Viktor and smiled to herself. She let this picture lull her to sleep and refused to let her thoughts wander.
Fred threw himself carelessly onto his bed, not bothering to get under the covers.
He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly.
"Shut up, there's a bathroom for that," George mumbled sleepily.
Fred shot him an angry look, knowing he couldn't see it, and turned towards the wall.
He tried to calm the thoughts racing through his mind and sort through them, one by one.
He didn't remember when exactly he started to feel this way about her.
What he remembered was when he was in his fourth year, hearing Malfoy call her a mudblood and how it made his blood boil to the point of needing to physically attack the little wanker.
He remembered how her scent lingered in his nose the first time she stayed at the Burrow, and how panicked and guilty he was when recognized that scent in sixth year when they brewed amortentia in potions class.
He remembered smiling when she tried to be discreet about finding the kitchens, presumably to talk to the house elves about demanding fair compensation.
He thought of how Hermione was kind to everyone; how she tried to be kind to that despicable Kreacher in the Black family house, how she got onto them for trying to test their products on unsuspecting first years, and how concerned she was about him and George getting kicked out of school when Umbridge was in charge.
He thought of how lovely her laugh sounded. The way her eyes twinkled when she smiled.
How her body felt brushing against his.
How she opened up to him tonight and took his hand when she needed the confidence to keep talking.
How she held him close as they walked back to the house from the orchard.
The way she squeezed his arm. He could've sworn she let her touch linger.
Godrick, he was in over his head.
