This / will indicate that someone is using sign language to talk. it's easier to do the then describing the actual motions. if I do this ' it means that lips are being read.
Chapter Twenty-six: You get mad you get, you get strong, wipe your hands, shake it off, then you stand.
Fred was worried. Everything had seemed fine in the garden, and his apology had been accepted better than he had ever anticipated. He'd thought, for a few minutes at least, that Ginny had been wrong. The girl that was snogging him clearly was not on the edge of a breakdown.
And then they went to his flat for a bit of privacy.
That was when he began to worry. Hermione was shaking by the time they arrived, and then she started to cry.
So now he was sitting on his bed with her, huddled under his blanket. He was lying on his back and Hermione was lying on his chest.
His robe (and shirt) were damp with tears. He didn't even care, all he cared about was that Hermione was letting him hold her. Neither of them said anything, Fred just kept stroking her hair and running a hand up and down her arm.
"I feel used." Hermione finally mumbled into Fred's chest.
"You're not." Fred signed as quickly onto her back as he could. He said the words aloud as well, wanting her to feel his chest working under her head. His voice was still tender and he made sure to keep both his hands on her.
"I feel disgusting."
"You're not."
"Was it my fault?"
Fred tensed momentarily then quickly pulled Hermione closer, tucking her head under his chin before she started to cry earnestly. He held her as tightly as he could, fighting his own tears. /I need you to look at me, Hermione./ She didn't move right away, but she eventually lifted her head a bit and Fred could feel her eyes on his.
"This was not your fault. You are not disgusting, you aren't used or anything close to that. You're not different because some git thought he could make you his. You're just as beautiful, strong, and smart in my eyes."
"I am?" Hermione's voice was so quiet, so frightened, that Fred was once again stuck with the urge to kill those damned muggles. He pushed himself up, still holding Hermione in his arms. He twisted her a little so that she was sitting sideways in his lap. It'd be easy for her to see his lips from this angle.
"Do you know what I see every time I look at you?" He could practically hear her mind whirring with that. She undoubtedly wanted to point out the obvious, that he couldn't see her. She would be right, he couldn't see, not really, but he was going to tell her what all his senses told her. He heard her nod her head a bit.
"I see my Hermione." He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her eyebrows. "I can still see your eyes, the hazel color that I dream of." He dropped his thumb, "I feel perfect, pouty lips that have driven me mental with desire since I first tasted them. Curly, wild hair that always manages to curl itself around my fingers. The softest hair I've ever felt, and so warm that I just want to wrap myself up in it and never leave."
He wiped a tear off her cheek. "I see the incredible woman that refused to let me sulk and pity myself. The brilliant woman that taught me to read and see again. The woman that won my heart and helped me live again. The woman that literally lights my world." He swallowed thickly and dropped his hands to clasp hers, treasuring the warmth and softness of her hands. "Nothing can ever change that."
"What if I can't-you know-without getting scared?"
"Then we'll wait for you. I'll fight to be with you, Hermione. After what happened-I never thought I'd have anybody, and I'm not about to let you go."
-o-o-o-
Hermione was asleep, her head propped up on the pillow and her soft body covered by Fred's old, orange quilt. He was laying beside her, his head inches from her as he used all his heightened senses to focus on her.
She'd kind of terrified him a bit. Fred had no idea how to help her.
He wasn't used to not really being able to do anything for Hermione when she needed him. Usually he could just apparate over and help her with whatever she needed, or at least let her cry on his shoulder. Right now he just felt useless. He couldn't help her in anyway but holding her hand, and he couldn't be sure that would even help. All he could do was touch her and know that she was alive, but he might never know if she was going to be alright. It certainly didn't seem like she was going to be okay right now. Those had been some serious tears.
When Hermione woke up Fred decided he wouldn't ever complain about her again. He'd listen to her lecture plans, stop his pranking, and never hear Hogwarts a History too many times. He'd love every minute of it all because it always made Hermione so terribly happy.
He needed Hermione to be happy.
If Fred was honest with himself, and now seemed like a good time to be honest-he was the only one up and his thoughts were his only company, he might as well be honest-he just didn't know what to do right now. He wasn't unused to needing people. He's always needed George. He almost lost his twin when they rescued Harry and it nearly killed him, but George had always seemed untouchable in his mind. Fred simply couldn't make the idea of losing his twin real.
Needing someone other than George was throwing him for a loop. He had no idea how to handle it. A lot of people need him, and he'd kind of prefer it that way right now. It's easier being needed than needing, it's safer, less painful. Because needing someone when shit like this happens is the hardest thing in the world. Worse than losing his vision.
He wasn't sure how he even got to this point. They started off as friends-as cliché as that has become. They just wanted to help each other and then they became good-if not best-friends. Then Fred realized that Hermione was perfect, and her not-perfect parts just made her even more perfect to him, and she was beautiful and soft, and he just wanted to be with her.
And now he just needed her. He could feel it all over, deep in his skin, in his heart, in his head, even the darkness surrounding him seemed to state the fact. He needed her to guide him, he needed her unfailing light and sometimes-but-not-really-annoying hopefulness.
Without her he'd be lost to the darkness, he'd just be a sightless prankster without the spark that makes him, him. He needed her, he just really, really needed her. He'd told her that she was beautiful and that she lit up his world, but he realized now-with horrible, painful clarity- that what he had really been saying was: 'Dear Godric, don't leave me, ever, please. I need you, oh Merlin do I need you.'
And that was scaring Fred Weasely more than when he had woke up unable to see.
-o-o-o-
Hermione needed to get away from the standard craziness of Hogwarts. The holidays were slowly drawing nearer and everyone seemed to be more antsy-and trouble prone-because of it.
She was slowly getting better. The random fits of self-disgust had greatly diminished, and she wasn't feeling terribly tentative each and every time Fred kissed or held her. The fact that she ever-much less more than once-had a flash back of those muggles when Fred was snogging her was enough to make her feel like she was forever ruined.
The lake seemed like the perfect way to distract herself. The giant octopus in it was enough to keep most of the lake from completely freezing over. The chill outside was enough to keep the students away as well. A perfect win-win. Hermione happened to know how to do a brilliant warming charm so the cold didn't bother her at all.
Hermione was so tired of it all. She was so tired of every. last. horrible. bit. of. it. She was tired of the fighting with people who thought that she was less than them just because of the fact that she was born with something her parents hadn't had. She was tired of fighting with people because they thought that she didn't have the right to live in their world. As if having parents who had been born magical made them more entitled.
She was tired of idiot muggles attacking because they were hateful and messed up and thought they had a right to steal things from other people, to make them feel like they were less than human.
She was tired of her own stupid mind for making her afraid to touch anyone because of the stupid flashbacks. She refused to be a prisoner of something that hadn't really happened. She refused to be terrified to be held down by her boyfriend because she had not actually been raped. She'd been molested, she'd been beaten but she hadn't been raped. She was done with it. She wanted to snog her boyfriend and not have any memories surface.
Starting right now she was done with it. Starting now she was not going to be a prisoner to the past. Yes, she'd been attacked. Yes, she'd felt ugly and disgusting. Yes she'd thought she was undesirable. Fred had shown her that she was desirable, in every single way. Fred would never push her, and she was safe with him.
And now Hermione's head was hurting from all the thinking. But she felt freer, weirdly freer.
The lake was incredibly peaceful looking. The water dark black in the evening and perfectly still. Pristine and unmoving. She took a moment to look, to really examine the still setting and let the cool breeze, one that wouldn't touch the water, tickle her hair.
She toed of her shoes and sat down on the bank, slipping her tired feet into the cool water of the lake and leaning back on her palms. The warming charm did its work and she didn't even feel chilly. She also didn't (couldn't) hear the footsteps behind her. So, unsurprisingly, she jumped a little when hands settled on her shoulders. She recognized the warmth, size, and callouses of the hands quickly, and relaxed as a grin replaced her small frown.
'Hello, you,' Fred greeted her, his breath brushing across her cheek. She had no idea what he said, but he signed it as well so she read his hands. /Mind if I join you?/ Hermione shook her head, her grin quite large now as Fred nodded his head. He sat down behind her, placing his legs on either side of her and hugging her around the middle. He kissed het on the cheek and then settled his head on her shoulder. His own feet dipped into the water and Hermione almost giggle at the shiver that coursed through his entire body. Fred instantly let out a string of curses against her neck. Hermione laughed out loud and tapped his leg gently with her wand. The warming charm did its work and Hermione could almost feel Fred's blush.
Clearly her wizard hadn't thought of that.
"How's the shop coming? Did you figure out the solution to your problem?"
/The honey hoops?/
"Honey hoops? No, the Joke Juice."
/Not yet. The potion keeps separating./
"Have you tried using a catalyst?" She paused, snuggling further back into Fred's hold. "If you hold the potion at 100f then pour in your catalyst, it should stabilize it long enough for you to be able to add your other ingredients. After that, they'll stay together by themselves." Fred took a hitched breath and Hermione continued. "Oh, also, you'll need to keep turning it clockwise. That'll make it stronger."
Hermione was suddenly being turned around, and then she was perched in Fred's lap. He had his arms tight around her waist and his head buried in her neck, peppering kisses along it. 'You' kiss, 'are' kiss 'the' kiss 'smartest' kiss 'sexiest' kiss 'beautifulest' kiss 'funniest' kiss 'most' kiss 'incredible' kiss 'witch' kiss 'in' kiss 'the' kiss 'world.' Hermione was breathless and completely lost in the sensation of Fred's lips.
She'd start putting her massive brain into solving more of his problems if this was the result.
It didn't occur to her until much, much later that she wasn't even a little bit frightened. There were no dark memories, and no hesitancy in any of her touches.
A/n:Brightestwitchofherage16 and Dance-Sing-Live got it correct, it's Eyes Open by Taylor Swift. (The song is on the Hunger Games soundtrack, I love it...) (and girl, don't even get me started on all the breakups in that last Glee episode. That was insane. And why Klaine!? They're my fave as well.)
That should be the end of Hermione's mental problems with the almost rape. Well, at least that I'll write about. I want to get back to my fluffy fluff, and I think I've covered the healing decently enough. It's just a hard thing to really describe well.
On a completely random side note, I almost used the song 'Big Girls Don't Cry' by Fergie for the chapter where Hermione was recovering from the near rape, but I couldn't hold myself together long enough. A male coworker of mine, a big, burly, rough guy that was an obvious biker and looked like he could knock your teeth out with one punch, was singing it one day while we bussed tables. It. Was. Hilarious. He made his voice all airy and everything. I can't hear the song and not think of that now.
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