Summary: Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.
Author's Note: This Fred and Hermione adventure is coming to an end. The final chapter will be posted tomorrow. Thanks to those of you who have so kindly reviewed.
Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.
Plus One
Chapter 9: Can We Talk
Arthur Weasley had an uncanny knack for knowing when to give his children space, listening when they weren't even sure they could form the words for an important or delicate conversation, and when to press them to speak. The night Fred came home for supper without George or Hermione turned out to be one of those patient nights he was used to, especially with his older boys.
He could easily remember when Bill started joining him in his muggle tool shop those many years ago before joining Gringotts as a curse breaker in Egypt. He and his eldest son had built Molly a beautiful porch swing before Bill had sorted things out enough to begin talking.
Charlie, too, sought his dad when deciding whether or not to accept a position as a dragon tamer in the wilds of Romania. He, like Bill before him, needed to work with his hands on a project alongside Arthur before the words started to spill from his mouth. That summer, the Weasley men stripped, sanded, and repainted Molly's beloved swing while Charlie talked and Arthur patiently listened.
When Fred, like his brothers before him, followed Arthur out to the shed that night after supper, he knew there would be a good chanced that Molly's old swing would get a face lift. Sometimes a man just had to work things out before he could talk about them, and he would be there waiting and listening when Fred was ready.
After about ten minutes of puttering around and Fred making himself comfortable on the high stool next to the work bench, Arthur opened the large drawer filled with spoons of various sizes and designs.
Seeing the look of surprise on his son's face, he chuckled. "You didn't think I only collected batteries, did you?"
"Why do you have all of these collections, dad?"
Fred had a very curious expression on his face that Molly would say looked exactly like his own when he was younger. Arthur sat in thought for a moment, trying to explain. "It's my Quidditch I suppose. My way to relax."
This seemed to placate Fred for a while and the two lapsed back into a relatively quiet time.
He watched as his son seemed to struggle with his thoughts, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer until they got to the root of Fred's dilemma. The old swing might have to wait, though. Fred, and George for that matter, had personalities that were very different from their older brothers. He had an idea that might help his son, something that they could create together.
"These seven," he said while pointing to the largest tablespoons in the collection, "were a part of the original set your uncles Fabian and Gideon gave your mother when we got married."
"Really? How did they end up out here then?"
"After they were killed, your mum thought they were too special for everyday use and she asked me to take care of them."
He pointed to the next matching teaspoons, "And there are seven of these smaller ones from the same set."
Fred listened for a while longer, but when he seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts, Arthur let him be and started polishing the Prewett-Weasley silverware.
Eventually, Fred started to fidget and the companionable silence was broken. "I never thought I would worry so much about Hermione when she gets called away for work. I know she's tough and smart and plenty capable of protecting herself, but I can't help worrying when she gets called out to tend to an emergency . . ."
Once Fred started talking, it was like the dam had been broken. He vented all of his frustration and concerns while absentmindedly picking up a cloth and starting to polish the teaspoons.
"A few weeks ago, well . . . I was at her flat when she received the message. Aside from a few times during the war, it was the longest night of my life.
"When she came home, the bruises were still a bluish/black color and I had to be careful when I hugged her.
"I love her. Truly and completely. And, I think I'll love her for the rest of my life."
Fred laid aside the cloth and looked at his dad.
"I wish I could say that it gets easier, son, but it doesn't. When the war was at its darkest, your mother would stay up waiting much like you did the other night for me to return from my latest mission for the Order."
"Mum always had her clock so she knew you were alright."
"Not always. It was actually during the first war against You-Know-Who that it first found a place in the Burrow.
"I gave it to her hoping to ease her mind a bit." Arthur chuckled again, remembering the following conversation about 'expanding' the clock that led to it being forgotten for the rest of the night.
"Tell me more about Hermione . . ."
And, so he did. Fred admitted that he intended to marry Hermione if she would have him and he wanted to ask her as soon as he found the right time.
"I'm going to look for a ring this week." Fred sat there deep in thought for a moment. As was custom in the wizarding world, he wanted to find the perfect engagement gift for her. The ring was typically more of a symbol of his intentions and her acceptance. What he needed was something that would be unique for her that he would present to her after they began their engagement.
"If I might make a suggestion . . ." At Fred's nod, Arthur continued. "I'm sure that there are many times that Hermione is just as concerned for you as you are for her. You could give her a clock that will give you both that measure of reassurance and, eventually, add your own children to it."
Fred sat in thought. He envisioned his beautiful Hermione cradled in his arms as he carried her through the door of their own home. He could also imagine the day that she would be round with their child. There would be promotions for her and expansions for him at the shop along the way. This is the life he desperately hoped she would consent to give him, sharing in all of it together.
With a look of excitement on his face, he asked, "Where can I get one of them?"
Arthur pulled one of each size of the Prewett-Weasley spoons out of the drawer. "Your mother and I have been saving these for you. You see, I made the clock for your mother and I would be glad to help you make one of your own."
Fred sat gob smacked at this revelation, his mouth hanging agape before a smile lit his face. "So you were a bit of an inventor yourself?"
"You could say that."
They shared a conspiratorial laugh before immediately setting to work.
The two Weasley men spent most of the evenings for the next two weeks working diligently to make Hermione's gift. Arthur took care to allow Fred to create most of it and add the charms to each of the spoons.
On the nights that he wasn't working on her gift, Fred and Hermione were inseparable. Whether they went out or simply chose to make dinner together at her flat, neither could have asked for more.
When Fred couldn't wait any longer, he wrote to Hermione.
I have a favor to ask of you . . will you be my 'plus one' tomorrow night for dinner? It's a special night. - Fred
Absolutely. I'd love to. - Hermione
