Chapter 10

"You are being really quiet, Fred," Hermione said after they were settled at their table and the food had arrived. "Is everything alright?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, trying to pull himself from his thoughts before responding. He was feeling really fidgety, so it was no real surprise that she had noticed. He tried to tell himself it was the murmurs and glances from the other patrons, excited to see a member of the golden trio, but he knew better.

"I'm fine."

"Is this about the other night? Because I told you I forgive you for that."

"Yeah. I mean, no, it's not about that. Just a busy morning at the shop is all. It has me a little distracted."

He could see a worried crease crossing her forehead, but she made no further comment on the subject. "So the shop was busy this morning? Business is still good then?"

"Yes, maybe even a little too good. I think we are going to have to get more help. It's more than George, Verity, and I can handle some days."

"That's not a bad problem to have."

"Well, no, but it is surprisingly hard to find good help at a joke shop. A lot of the people that want to work for us can't actually be trusted with our products and the ones that can, don't really want to work for a joke shop. Go figure."

"I'm sure you will find someone. I can imagine that it would be a fun job. Never a dull moment at least."

"Maybe you should come work for us, Granger. I bet we pay better than Flourish and Blott's anyway."

"Ha!" she laughed. "No, thank you. I might be able to appreciate your products, but I don't think I'm quite ready to trade books for pranks just yet."

He grinned. He could feel himself starting to loosen up as they chatted easily about Hermione's plans to eventually take over ownership of the little bookshop she loved so much and of his and George's expansion plans. It was nice, having a serious conversation with her without the bickering that usually accompanied their every interaction. So nice, in fact, that he had almost forgotten the reason he had been so out of sorts. Almost.

"So any idea what George and Angelina's plans are?" she asked after asking Hannah Abbot for a pot of tea.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they seem pretty serious, I didn't know if they had thought about moving in together or even marriage." Seeing his alarmed expression, she added, "Perhaps it's too soon for that."

He could feel the thoughts whirring through his brain. He supposed she was right. It was only natural that George would eventually move out, he barely stayed at the flat any more anyway, but he had never really allowed his brain to process it. He could handle it though. He was a grown man, after all. He couldn't expect to live with his twin forever.

"Um, I'm not really sure what their plans are at the moment. I doubt they do either. Not a lot of time to think between all the snogging."

"I'd be willing to bet Angelina has thought about it even if George hasn't."

"Is that so? So girls think about this stuff, huh?"

"Of course. And it amazes us that men don't."

He felt his body stiffen, trying to push away the thought that was forcing itself in his head. He really, really didn't want to think about that right now, but he couldn't help it, he had to know.

"What about you and Oliver then? What do you think about with him?" He hoped she didn't notice the weird tone his voice took on as he choked out the question.

"Oh, Merlin, no!" she laughed, but he didn't miss the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Oliver and I have only been going out a short time. He is very nice, but…"

"But?"

"Well, he's very intense about Quidditch, isn't he?" she blurted out suddenly. Then seemed a little ashamed as if she had somehow betrayed his trust by admitting it.

Fred ignored that his mood immediately lifted at this admission and instead laughed. "Well, it's Wood. Of course he is intense about Quidditch. He was a bloody psycho back at Hogwarts. I don't suspect things got better when he started playing professionally. Did you really not know?"

"Well, I knew he really liked it," she said, "but I am not sure that I knew quite how much. He does take it a bit more seriously than I had expected. It is just a game, after all."

"Please tell me you didn't tell him that?"

He wasn't sure it was possible for her face to get much redder. She was blushing furiously, but he could see the hints of a smile starting to form.

"Well, maybe…"

"You didn't!" He was laughing hysterically now. No matter his personal feelings about the situation, the idea of anyone telling Oliver Wood that Quidditch was just a game was too much to take. "What did he say?"

"Well, nothing at first. He kind of turned a weird color and seemed a little unwell. He went outside and I was about to see if he needed me to call for a healer when he busted back in the room ranting about how Quidditch wasn't a game it was more a lifestyle and how that very attitude was the difference in a good player and a great one."

"So he was actually rather calm then?" Fred said, chuckling to himself.

"Well, if you call that calm. He also bought me a book, Quidditch: It's More than Just a Sport, and indicated that might be the best way to get through to me.

"Did you read it?"

"Yes, and it was absolutely ridiculous. Nobody should have to sleep with a broom. It's complete rubbish to think you will feel more at one with it because it is laying in your bed."

Fred laughed some more, but then realized he really needed to get back to the shop before George killed him. "Thanks for the company, Granger. You're a lot of fun."

"So are you, Fred. We'll have to do it again. And, if you don't mind, don't mention to Oliver that I told you this."

He paused for a moment, biting his lip as he studied her, but nodded in agreement. "Your secrets are safe with me, Hermione."

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