The Art of Doing Nothing

Set in 2005; (Seven Years post FTT Epilogue). Hermione and Fred have been married nearly a year. Hermione wakes up one morning with Dragonpox. Hermione isn't a homebody and struggles with this. It's one thing to be green with purple spots, it's a whole 'nother when you sneeze and burn the book you're reading. So Fred presents her with an anniversary present a month early: three magical snow globes that when she shakes them will take her on a day dream charm to the moment in the snow globe. One is from Australia. Another from their beloved Majorca and the final a little country church where a red head stands at the church door.

When there's nothing good to look forward too in the immediate future, perhaps it's good to look back at a life of happy moments?

It all started with an itch on her nose.

At first Hermione had thought she had nicked it with a brush funny. Or perhaps the powder she was using was irritating her skin. She looked at it for a minute, an eyebrow raised as she sized up the powder. It hadn't bothered her yesterday. Or this morning when she was getting ready for work. It would be her luck for the powder to betray her as she got ready for date night-what were the odds?

"What's that look for?" Fred asked, walking into their bathroom and looking at her reflection in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, "I promise I showered."

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "You smell lovely," she smiled, setting her brush down and reaching for his hand, giving it a squeeze before she let go and leaned into the mirror. There was a spot of red- Was that a rash? Or blush? What was it?

"What is it then?" Fred asked.

"My nose itches," she sighed, standing back from the mirror, looking cross at her reflection. Fred stepped behind and wrapped his arm around her, "Well, I can tell you what that means, simple solution."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow as she looked at his reflection and leaned into his chest, "what's your conclusion then Healer Weasley?"

"You're about to kiss a fool Mrs Granger Weasley," he laughed, twirling her in his arm and dipping her before he gave a laughing kiss on the corner of her mouth.

She laughed, holding tight to his shoulder, trying to kiss him back while also trying not to fall on the bathroom floor. He lifted her up right, the two of them returning to the bathroom mirror slightly more dishevled than before.

"How's that nose feel now?" Fred asked, reaching over her head for a squirt of his hair gel.

"Like I'm going to be kissing that fool again," she smirked, setting down her brushes. She turned around to look at him," Think you can help me with that?"

He smirked, putting a little bit of gel in his hair. This latest style of his were short curls that Hermione would play with by the end of the evening, "I'm sure that could be arranged,he winked.

She scooted away, holding his gaze before walking over to her closet.

"Where are we going for dinner again?" She called out, looking at her options, "Angie and George pick a place?"

"Oh didn't I tell you? They bailed. Roxy's got a cold and they didn't want to leave her with mum," he answered, "you know what that means-"

She practically leapt out of the closet, her dressing gown slipping off her shoulder, "We can get Indian," she beamed. While she loved her goddaughter, Angelina couldn't stomach Indian food anymore and their favorite places had been less frequented the last two years. "That place in Soho? On Kingly?"

"Already have the reservation in," he said, proud of himself. "Can you be ready in twenty?"

"You're wearing blue?" She asked, diving back into her closet and pulling a white silk top and navy slacks, "I can be ready in ten."

"Merlin I love you," she could hear the smile in his voice as she slipped into her clothes. She relished the soft silk touch, the ruffle skimming across her shoulder. It was a lovely summer's night in London. She could get away with a tank top tonight.

She strode to their bedroom and picked out her favorite gold hoops and the necklace he had bought her for her 21st Birthday. A single pearl on a gold chain he had found one summer in the market in Majorca. She looked at her reflection and smiled.

Yes, her nose might itch, but other than that Hermione Granger Weasley had a very good life.

((*))

They stumbled up the steps around eleven.

Which was normal for their date nights. If they had been with George and Angelina they'd probably be out later-that relished the nights they had a babysitter and could pretend for a few hours they were newlyweds like Fred and Hermione.

For just the two of them, it had been a regular night. They spent the evening at the restaurant in Soho, nearly ran over the tartan clad bookkeeper Hermione enjoyed visiting with-they hadn't run over them, more Hermione had bumped into him and Fred nearly tripped over his lanky and sulky boyfriend as they left the restaurant and tucked into the pub around the corner for a nightcap before heading up stairs to bed.

She was exhausted. It had been a busy week-and he knew it. As Junior Undersecretary for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she had spent the week in a conference in London with Witches and Wizards from across Europe regarding The Treatment of Magical Creatures-primarily House Elves-and the changes in policy and protection the Ministry had rolled out over the last four years. Ron had stopped by to visit Monday before the Conference began and had been kind enough to give her a SPEW button he had held on "For Luck" he winked before leaving to meet Harry for Lunch.

The two of them had slipped off to bed. When Fred got in bed he pulled the white comforter up to her chin and curled on his side facing her. "I had a good time with you Mrs Granger Weasley," he said, his words soft and low as he reached for her hand, "we should do that again sometime."

"I'm free next Friday," She chuckled, her eyes close, a smile on her lips, "And the next Friday, and the next-"

"I'll take the lot of them then," he crooned, lifting her hand and kissing it softly. He was quite for a moment, the pause that came every night settling in.

"Hermione," he asked.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking?"

He asked her this almost every night. It was as if this was their way of saying I Love you and she supposed in a way it was. She scooted over closer and lifted herself up and kissed his forehead, "Goodnight love," she murmured softly before falling back on her side of the bed, her hand still tucked in his.

((*))

Normally she'd sleep in till eight, maybe nine. It was a Saturday so there was even the possibility she'd wake up at nine, Fred would keep her in bed till ten, and they'd change and go grab some Brunch before falling into their Saturday routine. So she couldn't explain why, at 3:37, she was awake, hot with an itch on her nose.

She crept down the hall to their kitchen and poured a drink. Her head was throbbing like she had a castle wall fall down on it-and she knew that feeling all too well. She shouldn't have had the scotch, perhaps that's why she was so warm and achy? Normally muggle whiskey didn't bother her as much as Fire Whiskey but last night's must have been packing a punch. She should have had wine. Or a water-no, a cuppa. Could you get tea in a pub? She knew some of the wait staff, maybe they'd help her out. They'd tease her and ask if they were in the family way but she could take that if it meant she got a cuppa and not a 3 AM hang over.

Setting her empty drink down she returned to the freezer for an ice pack and wrapped it in a tea towel, maybe that would help the itch. She walked thru the dining room into their living room, laid down on the couch and let the cold compress seep in as she pulled a blanket over her.

Despite the itch, as annoying as it was, Hermione tried to focus on the good. It was a game she and Fred had come up with when she woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. Simply focus on the good and let it carry you away. And there was so much good in her life, the game was easy. She had a good job where they valued her, a charming flat in the St. James neighborhood a 12 minute walk from her favorite restaurant, and was married to her best friend, the love of her life. When she considered how wonderful this life was to her sojourns in time travel it took to get her here, she was left anxious. Eight years ago a ski accident had catapulted her to the past, a past where she fell in love with -and later saved- Fred Weasley. If she spent more than a minute thinking how this life of hers shouldn't be hers she would get sick to her stomach. She couldn't imagine any other life than one that started with a kiss on her head as he made her breakfast and an What are you thinking before she drifted off into sleep.

They had been married for almost a year, much to Mrs. Weasley's chagrin. All the rest of her children, save Charlie the Patron Saint of Bachelors, paired up before Fred and Hermione even though-as she loved telling them-they had been together longer than any of them yet. The Matriarch who had written the book on avoiding rushed engagements couldn't understand why they had dragged their feet as long as they had. Truth be told, Hermione knew when she woke up in St Mungos after the battle she wanted to spend every day with him. And Fred had proposed not too long after that-but-

They still had some growing up to do. They were better together. And that's how they grew up, together. Just taking the long way around "to spite your mother!" as Mrs Weasley loved to phrase it.

But she had had plenty to look forward to in those in between years. Harry and Ginny had been married four years-the two having married at the end of Ginny's first Season with the Harpies. They were the proud parents of Hermione's Godson James, who took after the Weasleys in every possible way. Fred liked to say they should've named him after Billius because he was definitely more a Weasley than he was a Potter. Harry didn't know it yet, but there was another little bludger on the way. Ginny figured she'd be due again in the spring and wanted to wait till Harry's Birthday to tell him.

George had married Angelina three years prior and now had the two year old Roxanne calling the shots. She was the apple of her father's eye and the center of her aunt and uncle's world. Hermione would never forget when they went to visit them when they were still in the hospital and Fred looked down and saw Roxy sleeping in her bassinet. He looked at Hermione with the softest eyes, taped his finger on her crib and mouthed "I want one" while George and Angelina filled them in on the details. After her those details Fred shied away from the topic-but he still liked to pretend to be George so he'd get Daddy's kisses from Roxy who-unfortunately-was starting to realize Daddy had a double.

Much to Mrs Weasley's dismay, Charlie seemed to have sworn off any relationships, instead liking to send Christmas cards of him and one of his dragons. His mother had almost given up matching him with a friend's daughter but would still trim his pony tail if he wasn't careful on his visits home.

Percy had married Audrey Woodman, his secretary from the war years. They had two little girls, Molly and Lucy, who, even though they were little could let everyone and anyone know if a certain cauldron was in regulation. Thankfully they liked to play with Bill's kids more than they did review cauldron safety, but Hermione supposed it was good to have a hobby-even if it was their dad's job. The two little girls, as well as Victoire and Dominique could usually be seen running up and down the stairs at the Burrow, Teddy Lupin not far behind them. Mrs. Weasley still held out hope for Charlie and Tonks although both loved to lead her on and then shoot her down.

Ron had also beat Fred and Hermione to the altar, but he had beat everyone. He and Lavender had eloped in Ireland two years after the Battle of Hogwarts. A nice, quiet wedding. Lavender still had heavy scarring from Greyback's attack and hadn't wanted the pomp and circumstance that would accompany a war hero's wedding. So they snuck to Ireland and got married, Seamus Finnigan giving her away. Despite her misgivings from her first round of Ron and Lavender, she was rather fond of the two. They were good for each other, much better than she or Ron would have been. He had two little girls, Emma who was four and Sylvia who was two.

She had eight wonderful years with Fred, and now almost one as his wife. They had grown in their careers-he managed the Weasley Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, London, and its international sales. She had climbed a good chunk of the ladder at the Ministry. They had also had their share of adventures-he'd come with her to find her parents and bring them home from Australia, and they made an annual summer pilgrimage to Majorca-sometimes branching out for Malaga or Barcelona. They would sometimes do spring on the continent and two years ago had a wild hair that took them to the colonies for hikes in the Rocky Mountains.

They lived a crazy, beautiful, vibrant life. And she loved it.

She supposed she'd love it more if she was asleep and her nose wasn't itching.

Hell, if I'm up at 3:30 in the morning, why isn't it throwing up? She thought, looking at her stomach. She supposed that would be ok too. An Itchy nose was no indicator of pregnancy as far as she knew.

She rolled on her side and tucked herself in. She didn't want to get up, she was nearly asleep-she'd just snooze and head back to bed in a second-he wouldn't notice she had gone-

Hermione drifted off to sleep at the thought of Fred being tackled by his slew of nieces while she sat looking on, rocking a baby in her lap.

((*))

"Oh Shit," she heard Fred say. His feet were creeping down the old wood floors. She liked the flat for that reason, the old floors, the wood work along the molding-the way the light filled the rooms-

What she didn't like was her Husband's tone.

"Shit Shit Shit," he said, the panic rising, "shit-" he turned the corner quick into the kitchen.

"Did you make a mess already?" Hermione asked, her eyes welled shut. She still felt sore. So very sore. She was achy in her joints and down to her bones. What the hell had she drunk last night? She felt awful.

"No, no I'm fine," Fred said rushing in. She felt another cool compress against her forehead. Her hand reached up and felt his, and she pushed both to her head. "That feels so good."

"I think I know why your nose itches love," Fred said, a little unsteady in his voice.

"I know why, you told me yesterday," she opened her eyes and turned up to him, "Tell me, do you feel foolish?"

"A bit," he grimaced, tucking back a curl, "How do you feel?"

"Horrid," she said honestly, "I feel absolutely horrid."

"I believe you," he sighed, sitting down on the couch by her side, "George and I had dragon box when we were four and it's nasty business I'll tell you that-"

"Dragon pox?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow, "What are you-"

But then she looked at her hand that was tucked in his. Her skin had a greenish tint, almost the color of honeydew melon. And what made it more vibrant was the angry little purple poxes that seemed to appear like constellations up and down her arm. "I've got dragon pox?" she asked, panicked, "But-I've got a presentation on Tuesday- and-"

"You've got a quarantine Tuesday," he soothed, his thumb brushing circles on her hand, "And the next day, and the next day."

"But-" she started and couldn't finish.

Hermione Granger Weasley had a beautiful, loud, vibrant life. It was busy, and messy, and perfect-just the way she would have it.

Except for this part. Except for right now.

Because Hermione Granger Weasley's perfectly beautiful, vibrantly messy, busy, crazy life now had a two week quarantine that would have her in house arrest in this her formerly beloved flat.

And she still had an itch on her nose.

AN:

Hey guys. It's me… I'm ba-a-ack.

This wasn't the writing project I thought I'd adopt after FTT finished. In fact, I was working on another one but it was too depressing for the current circumstances. Fun fact, it was supposed to have its first three chapters written on transatlantic flights that didn't happen. Corona is a bitch and my trips were axed. So that brings us the present. Everyone is social distancing, going into quarantine, simply trying to keep some sense of normality, and despite my best efforts its now bled into my creative works.

I joked about this idea with my friend and she thought it was worth giving it a shot. I'm not sorry because this lets me break the promise I made in my last author's note and give you a return to the Falling Through Time Fred and Hermione. Because they would want us to be happy. And my hope with this project is it might make you happy too.

I work for an online retailer and we aren't closed yet (woo essential services!). I'd like to think I can do a couple updates a week. I would like nothing more than for everyone to be back to normal well before I finish this project...so here's to wishing! This will be a much shorter piece than Falling Through Time. I think it's on track for less than 10 chapters and probably less than 25k-30k words.

But again, the goal is to make us happy. And if you're going to be home, the least I can do is give you fluff to read.

If by chance you are reading this and you haven't read Falling Through Time, welcome! If you're in isolation and you need a 56 Chapter Slow burn, its waiting for you. If you'd rather not, that's ok too. High points: Hermione traveled in time, fell in love with Fred, saved his life and this is part of their happily ever present. I'm going to try and make this as easy to jump into as possible.

That being said, Chapter 2 will probably be up sooner than I'd like to admit.

Stay safe y'all. Love,

KH