November 2002

Fuck New York. Fuck relationships. Fuck the Ministry. Fuck H—

"Fuck!" Fred yelled, tossing a bat spleen into the boiling cauldron. The boiling green liquid sloshed over the side and started burning a hole through the work table. He quickly vanished the spilled concoction and repaired the table.

"What the hell?" George called, bursting through the door. He looked around wildly, before settling on Fred's face. "Oh, just another one of your tantrums."

"Fuck off," Fred muttered, stirring the cauldron's contents.

"Your vocabulary these last few days has astounded me. Care to talk about what's pissing you off?"

"You know what's pissing me off. What use is there talking about it?" Fred said mournfully. He hadn't told his twin about kissing Hermione at Sunday dinner. He felt humiliated and slightly betrayed that she had kissed him back without telling him about the new job prospect. It had been two days since then, and if he wasn't working, he stayed closed up in his room.

"Because if you keep it all pent up, I fear you're going to go crazy and burn down the store. I know you're not talking to Hermione about anything. Could you at least talk to me?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to burn down the store," Fred said, putting jars of ingredients back on the shelves. "Really though, what's there to talk about? She got a promotion that's going to be good for her career and I'm happy for her."

"Bullshit," George spat.

"What do you want me to say George? Obviously I'm not happy, but what can I do?"

"Talk to the girl for starters! You have no clue what is going through her mind right now. She said herself that she hadn't made a concrete decision. For all you know, she could have said no and is planning to stay in England."

"I don't want your advice, thanks."

"You just asked 'but what can I do'!" George roared.

"It was a rhetorical question! Can't you just be supportive and sympathetic?" Fred yelled.

"I have been nothing but supportive and sympathetic with your arse for months now!" George yelled back. "I don't know what else I can do for you Fred! You've dug your own hole here, and now it's up to you to fix it. And the only way you're going to be able to do that is talk to Hermione about how you feel. At least try and persuade her to stay!"

"It's no use!" Fred screamed, chucking a jar of eel hearts against the wall. He stumbled back onto a stool and watched his slimy mess creep down the pale blue paint. "It's no use," he repeated. He'd took a breath and looked up at his brother. "When have you ever known Hermione Granger to choose a relationship before her career? I doubt me telling her I'm in love with her is going to make any difference to her plans."

"Hold up," George said, taking a step towards Fred. "You're in love with her?"

Fred groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I am, but it doesn't change anything. She's going to New York and it's just best I keep my distance from her until she's gone."

"Keep your distance? You live with her!" George shook his head in disbelief. "Look, she's meeting us for dinner in twenty minutes. You go alone and talk to her."

"No, I'm fi— I'm just going to stay here. Need to keep working on these fireworks kits."

"Fred, we can do that any time. You really should—"

"No, George. Just go. I'll see you when you get back."

George gave a sigh of defeat and left, slamming the door behind him. Fred turned back to the hissing cauldron and tried to focus all his attention on the task at hand and not the fact that it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest, piece by piece, and ground into the dirt.

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Hermione had no idea what to do about anything anymore. Fred was completely ignoring her. He refused to come to dinner on Tuesday night and even refused the dinners she made at home. She'd wake to find the warming charms taken off and the meals left to wilt on the counter. He was still working late nights at the shop, so she attempted to wait up for him and catch him off guard when he got home. He must have foreseen that, though, and came home well after the time Hermione had succumb to sleep on the couch.

Thursday came and Fred had still not spoken a word to her since accusing her of salting his mashed potatoes. Hermione smiled at the memory and in that moment felt like her decision had been made for her. At the end of the work day, she sat down and talked to her supervisor, then went home, planning to do battle with Fred the following night.

Friday evening, she cranked her music up louder than usual as she cooked dinner and hyped up her courage. She had fought against some of the the most dangerous dark wizards and won. Surely she could handle a Weasley! Still, The Beatles' Helter Skelter started playing and she clicked the volume up one more notch.

After she ate, Hermione brewed a pot of coffee and settled down on the couch. She flicked through the channels on the television, but struggled to really get into any one show.

By midnight she had finished the entire pot of coffee, four episodes of East Enders, and a leftover bar of Honeydukes chocolate. She had been to the bathroom several times and her nerves were jittery from all the caffeine. The good news was that she was not in the least bit tired. She'd stay up until dawn if she had to.

Hermione turned the television off and started cleaning the kitchen to keep her occupied. Luckily, she did not have to wait until dawn for Fred to come home. The floo sounded at ten to one and Hermione aimed a nonverbal spell at the hallway to Fred's room. She could hear him kicking off his trainers on the hearth rug and then padding through the living room. When he tried to go down the hall, he hit Hermione's invisible wall and was tossed back with a yelp. He skidded into the kitchen, on his backside, scowling at Hermione.

"What the hell are you playing at Granger?" Fred yelled, scrambling to his feet.

"We need to talk. Sit down," Hermione said simply, nodding her head towards a seat at the table that had a plate of heated up food on it.

"There's nothing to talk about. Drop your spell and let me get to my room."

"On the contrary, I think we have quite a bit to talk about, and I'm not going to let you ignore me anymore. So put on your big boy robes and talk to me like an adult!" Hermione could feel the caffeine and adrenaline coursing through her veins and took a long, deep breath. "Why have you been avoiding me all week?"

"If you can't figure that out then maybe we should reconsider the title 'Brightest Witch of her Age'," Fred muttered, sitting down in front of his dinner. He picked up the fork, but just poked at the sausages. "You knew about this job in New York and still kissed me! You let me put myself out there, knowing full well it would only lead to disappointment!"

"You really shouldn't be left alone with your thoughts, Fred Weasley." Hermione tossed her sponge into the sink and started washing her hands. "First off, I've been waiting for you to put yourself out there for a while now. How was I to know you were going to choose Sunday dinner at your parents' house to make your move." She dried her hands and went to stand across from him. "And, if you remember, I said that afternoon that I hadn't made a decision yet."

"I know what you said. But it was pretty obvious what your decision was going to be. So… whatever. Go to New York and have an awesome career and an awesome new life." Fred let his fork clatter to the plate.

"If that's how you feel, then fine. I can't see any good reason to stay." Hermione pointed her wand at the hall and lifted her barrier spell. "You're free to go."

Fred didn't move though. He glared at her and said, "What are you talking about, no good reasons? There are plenty of reasons for you to stay!"

"Give me one."

"How about your best friend is about to have a baby?"

"I wouldn't leave until after the baby is born. Plus, it's not like I'm her only support. What else you got?"

Fred glared at her and said, "What about your family?"

"What family? The distant cousins that I never speak to, or my parents that live in Australia?" Hermione forced back a grin, knowing she was finally starting to crack him. "I don't think it'll make a difference to them if they have to fly to New York instead of London."

"You have more family than that and you know it."

"New York isn't on another planet, Fred. It's not hard for me to just come back and visit everyone."

"It's not the same!" Fred cried, slamming his fist on the table and jumping to his feet. "Dammit, Hermione! Don't go to New York!"

"Then give me a reason to stay!" Hermione yelled at him.

"Because I need you to stay!"

Fred was breathing heavy, his chest heaving under the weight of his confession.

"I need you to stay," he repeated. Hermione tentatively stepped around the table, moving closer to him. "I need to come home at night and hear you singing. I need you around to tell me how charming my horrible table manners are. I can't stand going a day without seeing your face or hearing your voice, and now I've gone five and it's been absolute torture!" A few tears escaped down his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck and Hermione took another step closer. "I need you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes, you stupid prat!" Hermione laughed, slapping his arm. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

She grabbed Fred's shirt collar and pulled him towards her until their lips met. He made an attempt to pull back, but Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him even closer. Without another moment's hesitation, Fred's arms wound around her waist and his lips parted. His tongue flickered against hers and he suckled on her bottom lip. Hermione gave a hum of amusement when he grabbed her bum and lifted her up so he could deepen the kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her fingers in his hair as his tongue explored every crevice of her mouth.

"Wait," Fred rasped, painfully breaking the kiss and leaving Hermione in a pout. "What does this mean?"

"It means," Hermione breathed against his lips. "You've been a sulky git for nothing because I turned down the New York position. They promoted me to Department Head."

"So, you're staying?"

"Yes, I'm staying. Right here. With you. If that's okay?"

"That sounds perfect." He held her tight and kissed her again. "If I try to go to your room, will I get knocked on my arse again?"

Hermione chuckled and leaned into his ear. "Yes, but in a much nicer way," she whispered, licking his earlobe.

A growl escaped his throat and Hermione laughed as he quickly carried her off, down the hall to her bedroom.

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Hermione sighed contentedly against Fred's bare chest, listening to his heart beat out a steady, calming rhythm. She smiled as he nuzzled her curls and kissed her forehead. She tilted her head back so that his mouth could slip down to her lips. Outside, a cloud moved and allowed moonlight to spill through the window. The glow lit up Fred's brown eyes as he stroked his thumb down her cheek.

"I've wanted to be this close to you for so long now," he whispered, letting his fingers slide over her lips. Hermione softly kissed his fingertips as they passed. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"I can't say you haven't driven me completely insane these last few months," Hermione laughed. "But, you were worth the wait."

Hermione snuggled back against his chest and Fred pulled the blankets tight over them. She was so tired and comfortable, but there was a question begging to be answered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Pretty sure you just did," Fred yawned, and Hermione pinched his side. "Ow! Of course, ask away."

"When did your feelings for me start to change?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did you start thinking of me as possibly being more than just a friend?" Hermione pulled back slightly so she could see his face again. "It's been something I've been wondering about for a while now. What suddenly changed on your end?"

"I don't know if I can pinpoint when it changed." He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. "It happened kind of gradually, over those early months after Harry and Ron left. You started coming 'round the shop more often and I got to know you better, see a few different sides of you that I hadn't noticed before. Eventually I realized that I was utterly intrigued by you and my thoughts were crossing the boundaries of friendship."

"Huh...If I had known that I would've started coming to the shop before Harry and Ron left." Hermione went to nestle back in beside him, but it was Fred's turn to pull back.

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing. Let's get some sleep," Hermione urged, tugging at his arm.

"Nuh uh, I get to ask to ask the same question. Come on, spill it. When did things change on your end."

Hermione moaned and covered her face with her hands. "How specific do you want me to get?" she asked, peeking between her fingers.

Fred propped himself up on a elbow and grinned at her. "Exactly how specific can you get?"

"Year, month, day, approximate time," Hermione murmured, letting her head collapse on the pillow.

"Yeah, all of that."

Hermione sat back up and looked down at Fred, a shy grin on her face. "The Quidditch World Cup—"

"So since August?"

"Quidditch World Cup, nineteen ninety-four," Hermione finished.

Fred's brow furrowed and she could see his mind working through the math.

"Eight years?"

"You think I'm mental now, don't you?" Hermione started chewing on her bottom lip.

Fred reached up and tugged her lip from the clutches of her teeth. "Stop, that's my job now." Hermione giggled as he sat up. "Darling, I've known you're mental for some time now. I'm very curious, though, about what happened at that World Cup that made you see me in a different way."

"It was after the match, when the Death Eaters were wreaking havoc. You remember, we were all supposed to stick together and get to the clearing, but we ended up losing Harry?"

"I remember. We almost ended up losing you, too, in all that chaos. Scared the hell out of me when I looked back and you weren't there. Thank Merlin you were only…" Fred trailed off as clarity set in. "I doubled back to find you."

"I had tripped and fell. The others didn't notice and kept running, but you came back for me," Hermione said, reaching out and finding his hand. "You helped me up and held my hand as we ran. You wouldn't let go, even when we reached the clearing and were waiting for your dad. You held onto me and made me feel safe."

Fred leaned in until their noses were touching and asked, "You were so sure back then it was me. How do you know it wasn't George, and you've been crushing on the wrong twin all this time?"

Hermione smirked and gave a slight shake of her head. "I've been able to tell you two apart long before the ears were a giveaway."

"Hmm, most impressive. Even Mum and Dad still struggle with that." Fred chuckled and hooked an arm around Hermione's waist. He fell back onto the mattress, pulling her onto his chest. "You've fancied me for eight years!" he teased.

"Off and on, for eight years," Hermione corrected. "I'd gotten very good at keeping it to a mild crush until you started flirting with me! You just had to go and throw a wrench into the works."

"I like to think I simply tweaked a few gears for the better." He pulled the blankets over them once more and nuzzled her neck. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Fred."

Wrapped in the warm blankets and Fred's arms, it didn't take Hermione long to drift off to a blissful sleep. She didn't wake once until the sun was streaming brightly through the curtains and Fred's coughing broke into her dreams. She pulled the covers over her head and rolled to face Fred.

"Fred?"

"Hmm?" he answered, his face buried in the pillow.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You keep coughing."

Fred raised his head and frowned, just as Hermione heard the cough again.

"I thought that was you," he said, pursing his lips.

Hermione slowly pulled the blankets down and glanced over at the door. There was Ginny, leaning against the frame with the biggest smile on her face.

With a little wave, Ginny greeted, "Morning!"