Thank you for all the lovely comments :-) The date comes in three parts and I am going to try and post this in chapters over the next few days ... wish me luck!
FHFHFHFHFHFHFH
"Is this how our marriage is going to be, Hermione? Every time I turn up, I'm going to find you in the arms of one of my brothers?"
"It's a distinct possibility, Fred. Is that going to bother you?"
"Not at all, love. We all made a pact years ago, so they can't do anything. I'm just checking." He dropped a kiss onto Hermione's curls as she kissed Charlie's cheek and gave him one last squeeze before slipping out of his arms.
"Charlie was just giving me some brotherly advice." Hermione looked innocently at Fred.
"Really? He said he was heading over to give you the sex talk…" Fred smiled widely as Hermione blushed.
"Well maybe a bit of that too." She was actually happy to own that, if it distracted Fred from the real topic of their conversation. She was sure she would one day tell him more, if Charlie was alright with that, and quite possibly enlist his help with healing Charlie's broken heart down the line. For now, she wanted to give Charlie a bit of space as well as be able to concentrate on their date and the things the two of them needed to discuss.
Fred waved his arm behind him, indicating The Burrow's front garden. "My broomstick awaits, if you're sure you're OK with that?"
"I am very sure, thanks to George's help when you were in Diagon Alley earlier. I'm quite looking forward to it, actually. Apparently this is going to fulfil a long-held fantasy of yours?" She raised her eyebrows and gave Fred a sly smile.
"It is, lovely. And I'm not afraid to admit it. Let's go..." He held out his hand, and she took it.
Just a few minutes later, they were waving goodbye to various members of the Weasley family as Fred kicked off and began their ascent from the garden. Hermione saw that George was slowly moving his wand in the shape of a sticking charm with one hand, while pointing to her and then his wand with the other and pulling a questioning face. She laughed and shook her head at him. "I'm good, thank you, George!"
"Rude git," laughed Fred, catching George's meaning. "Doesn't he think I'll cuddle you close enough to make you feel safe?!"
In response, Hermione snuggled even further back into his body, stroking his forearm in reassurance. Fred sighed softly, melding his thighs even more tightly to hers.
They climbed higher, cleared the top of the trees and then looped around Stoatshead Hill, from where they had picked up the portkey that had taken them to the Quidditch World Cup.
"I can't believe how much has happened since we walked up there that morning, Fred!"
"I know, love. It feels a bit surreal sometimes."
They flew in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the feel of each other and the solitude of the air. Now and again, Fred would point out something interesting; a flock of birds to the side or a train puffing along below them, but it wasn't until his arm directed Hermione to look at the sea in the distance that she realised he had taken them across to the west coast of Devon. Slowly, he began to circle and descend, keeping the broom's movement gentle for his non-flying witch, and then landed them softly in a deserted cove.
"This is beautiful, Fred!" Hermione exclaimed, swinging her leg over the broom to sit in Fred's lap while she admired the view.
"I'm glad you like it. It belongs to Angelina's dad. He has a restaurant up on the next cliff, which I am going to take you to for supper and, subject to your approval, I have rented this cove for a few days for a bit of a honeymoon. Though Phil – that's Ange's dad – he thinks it's just a short holiday, of course. Might have had to let him think that you needed a bit of recovery time after the war, but we'll tell him the truth as soon as we can. He's a good man; he'll understand the need for secrecy."
Hermione's eyes widened at Fred's suggestion that they holiday here. She looked around at the secluded area, seeing only beach, cliffs and sea. "Really? Where will we sleep?"
"Ha," he laughed. "That's the best bit, but you have to wait til tomorrow evening to find out. If you like the idea of spending a few days together here, we just need to let Phil know when we arrive for dinner, and they will get everything set up for us. George says he'll handle the shop so I can take a few days off. Things aren't busy at the moment anyway."
"I love that idea, Fred, and I will wait to find out more. I'm learning to tolerate uncertainty." She leaned in to kiss him.
"I think that's for the best," Fred smiled into the kiss. "Are you hungry for food, or just my kisses?"
"Definitely for food too!"
"Right, then you'll have to hop back onto the broom properly, love." She obediently rearranged herself, amused that the man who had taken so many risks in the name of having fun over the years was so cautious when it came to her safety. "Broomstick and apparition are the only ways in and out of here. This is a magically protected cove; it's hidden to muggles and the cliffs and wards mean that no-one can get in without the permission of the owner or renter. So our honeymoon will be totally private, and once we're here we don't need to worry. Even the Wizengamot won't be able to disturb us until we've sealed our bond."
As he said the last words, he pulled Hermione flush against his body, and she felt a rush of heat to her core. The more he flirted with her, the more it turned her on, and she now fully understood the appeal of his broomstick fantasy. In truth, she couldn't wait to get more physical with Fred, and was secretly very glad that their rollercoaster romance journey meant she wouldn't have to wait much longer to be one with him.
The restaurant was another surprise. They arrived at the magical entrance, under a notice-me-not charm that Fred had cast over them before taking off, as non-magical folk apparently ate there too.
"There's a village up the road," Fred explained. "Mostly artists, quite alternative, so even if we don't wear muggle clothing then we tend to blend in. A few tourists here and there. They specialise in seafood, with a bit of a Thai twist." He parked his broom and the small bag that he had strapped to the back of it before ushering Hermione into the building.
Hermione knew, even before Angelina's dad strode towards them, that she was going to want to visit this restaurant a lot. The atmosphere was cosy and warm, and delicious smells were emerging from the kitchen. When a big man approached, wearing a brightly-coloured boubou and holding his arms out to hug them both at the same time, she was further captivated. "Welcome to the family," he said, squeezing them tightly. "Ms Granger," he bowed. "I'm Phil. It's such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for everything you did for us in the war."
Hermione never knew what to say to this kind of statement, but that wasn't a problem, as Phil had more than enough to say for all of them. Fred was apparently used to it, and let the older wizard chat away as he led them outside to a private balcony.
"And I do sincerely mean that I consider you my family," Phil told Hermione, indicating that she should sit on a large purple beanbag. Fred sat down on another, and there was a low table between them. "Since Angelina and George left school and have been getting closer, I seem to see Fred almost as much as I do George, and I don't have a big family myself, so now that you're in the picture I am hoping that I can add you rather than lose Fred."
"That sounds lovely," Hermione smiled up at him. "And please, call me Hermione. I don't have much family either, you know, other than the Weasleys."
"Really?" he replied. "You know Angelina's an only child too?" He slapped Fred's shoulder a couple of times. "Well if you two go on and have babies one day and they need a third grandpa, you just let me know; I don't know if I can wait for Angelina and George to get on with it; she's a bit too fond of her quidditch career at the moment! Now," he looked at Fred, "have you made a decision about the cove, son?"
"Yes please," said Fred. "We'd love to take it for a few days."
"Then I will get my team onto it first thing in the morning, and it will be ready for you anytime from about four. We'll set the wards to your magical signatures and you can just apparate in whenever you're ready. No-one will come down and bother you, but we'll keep your table up here open anytime you fancy flying up for lunch or supper. In the meantime…" he produced a couple of menus from thin air and then nodded to a waiter, who brought over a bucket containing a bottle of prosecco on ice. "And as you requested…" He bowed again and left them to look at menus.
Fred thanked him and then laughed when he saw Hermione's face. "What? You don't think I pay attention? You mentioned it in Kingsley's garden."
"I know, but that was hours ago. Though so much has happened since then it actually feels like days have passed."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. But for the next couple of hours, it's just you, me and good food and wine. How does that sound, love?"
"Absolutely blissful, Fred."
Hermione looked around at the rest of the balcony as Fred poured the prosecco into two tall glasses. "What an amazing place," she whispered.
Fred smiled as he watched her look around. They were on a private balcony, overlooking the sea. Because it was midsummer, it was still bright outside, and she hoped that they would stay long enough to enjoy the sunset. They each sat on a fat, comfy beanbag, and the low table between them was set with candles and flowers. It was such a clever design, Hermione mused. The table was triangular, which meant that they could sit at adjacent sides and both look out over the sea, while still being able to see each other and chat easily. Even better, they were close enough for Hermione to reach for Fred's hand while they considered the food options.
It didn't take long for them to choose their meals; Hermione was very partial to salt and pepper squid and, as soon as she saw it on the menu, she knew she need look no further. Choosing a salad to go with it and a spicy tom yum soup as a starter, she sat back and enjoyed watching the waves as Phil and Fred had a discussion about how Fred would like his sea bass cooked.
She was lost in her thoughts when she felt Fred gently squeeze her hand.
"Knut for your thoughts, love?"
She shook her head. "The funny thing is, I wasn't thinking about anything just then. I spent the first half of the day with a crazy number of thoughts running around my brain, and now I'm here with you, I feel much more relaxed and my head is finally empty."
"That's good, then."
"Mmmmm, it is. How about you?"
"What about me?"
"What are you thinking, Fred?"
"Well that maybe we should talk about some things, if you're OK with that?" He tipped his head to one side.
"Of course … ask me anything you like."
He paused for a few moments, and then spoke more quickly than usual. "Did you really like me that much before this morning? It's not that I'll mind if your feelings aren't as strong as mine … I'd just like to know how far they go back, if that's OK?"
Hermione's face told a picture of concern. "Oh Freddie, are you still worried about that? Even after everything that has happened today?"
He nodded, suddenly looking a few years younger and a good deal less secure than usual. "A bit."
"Well don't be," Hermione lifted her bottom, moved her beanbag closer to him and cuddled into his side. "I told you earlier that I've liked you for a very long time, Fred. Years. I think I liked you before I even knew I liked you, if that makes any sense. But if I had to pinpoint it then it probably started that day when you were all playing quidditch and I was doing my cross stitch under the apple tree."
"Cross stitch? Is that your sewing by numbers?"
"Yes," she chuckled. "I find it really relaxing. It helps me switch off my analytical brain."
"Hey, I'm not knocking it. Just figured I need to get the terminology right."
"You flew down to the ground for some reason that I can't remember and came to check on me. I told you I was thinking of going back over to the house because I was getting a bit cold…"
"And I said no, there's no need, and I took off my jumper…"
"Yes. You said you were ditching it anyway, as you were warm enough, though I wasn't sure whether that was true or if you were just being nice?"
"Maybe a bit," he tilted his head to one side. "But I liked being nice to you. Still do, in fact. And I'd have needed a warming charm flying in that weather whether or not I had my jumper on, so it's not like it was any hassle."
Fred remembered the day well. He had already begun to realise that he liked the clever little witch who had arrived in his life a few years before when his younger brother joined him and George at Hogwarts. He had no idea quite how much he liked her until he saw her don the sweater that his mum had knitted for George the previous Christmas. It had long been a Weasley twin tradition for them to swap their parcels, rendering the initials unhelpful in identifying who was who only unless you held the inside knowledge that Fred usually wore the G and George usually wore the F. George's sweater fitted Fred perfectly, of course, but it was far too long for Hermione, almost reaching her knees. As she had snuggled herself up in his jumper, he found himself speechless and filled with an emotion that he had never felt before.
He recalled that Hermione had curled back up on the quilt at the side of the quidditch pitch and said a quiet thank you before bowing her head back over her sewing. Fred had wanted to speak but had no idea what to say. It took all his willpower to get back on his broom and take off back up into the game rather than bounce down onto the quilt, scoop her into his lap and kiss her.
Hermione remembered the event just as clearly. She had been ninety per cent touched and ten per cent slightly suspicious when Fred offered her his sweater, but the chill of the Autumn day had overridden her concern that there might be a prank involved. She had given Fred a grateful smile and pushed her arms through the soft woollen sleeves. As she ducked her head and pulled his sweater over her body, her senses had been overwhelmed by a smell that was familiar, comforting and, frankly, terrifying. Hermione knew right away where she had smelled it before, and her mind was taken back to the potions class in which they had first smelled amortentia.
Shocked, she had bowed her head, thankful for the excuse of the sewing project and the fact that Fred was used to her introverted ways. She whispered a thank you and shyly watched Fred as he rejoined Harry and his family, who were now shouting for him to return. Hermione's heart was pounding for the rest of the quidditch game. Never before had she wished that it would take Harry as long as possible to find the snitch. Hermione felt confused and uncertain about what was happening. All she knew was that, from that point forwards, no matter that she tried to kiss and date a couple of other guys, she could summon no real romantic interest in anyone else. The only wizard that held any interest for her was the tall, funny, clever, ginger-haired man who now sat next to her at the triangular table with a smile on his face as he waited for her reverie to end.
FHFHFHFHFHFHFH
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