Waiting For The Owl Post

Fred had barely slept a wink. His mind kept playing the scene with Hermione over and over again, and he couldn't believe he had chickened out on telling her the basket was a gift from him. Now he would just have to wait for her to find the letter and make the next move. And pray to whatever god would answer a trickster such as he that she didn't just think it was a silly prank.

Waiting was not the strong suit of Fred Weasley, however. So at 4 in the morning, far before they would even wake up to head to the train for Hogwarts, he found himself trying to stay distracted. He paced the house, and tidied up here and there. He pulled together some of the books he had recently bought for research on a new product he had in mind, and placed them at his desk for when he could concentrate better. He even started to collect and package products for owl-in orders, a job they usually left for Verity.

He thought he had distracted himself enough, but the moment an owl tip-tapped on his window he ran to it. At the window, he was surprised to see old Erol, and he quickly let the bird into the flat. The old owl flopped his way onto the kitchen table, taking a few drinks of Fred's untouched morning tea. Fred carefully took the small note from the bird, and unfurled it quickly. He was more than a little disappointed to see the note written in Ginny's tidy writing.

Fred,

Hermione found your note this morning. She laughed so hard she cried. I think she'll write back when she has the time. Sorry, brother.

Love,

Ginny

Fred sank slowly into his chair at the kitchen table. His cowardice had backfired far worse than he had thought, and she thought it was a joke. Or, worse yet, she thought the idea of going on a date with him was too funny to even entertain. At least he had Ginny on his side to give him just a bit of a heads up before he read it in Hermione's own hand. Laughter? He had not expected his favorite sound to also be the sound of his defeat.

"Fred, you alright?" George put a hand on his twin's shoulder. Fred had been sitting as still as the dead for several minutes since George had entered the room. Taking notice of the note in Fred's hand, George could only guess that his brother hadn't gotten the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Did she say 'no', mate?"

"She laughed. Ginny just owled me. She laughed so hard she cried, and she hasn't sent her own reply yet." Fred said sadly.

"Ah, well. At least you tried, brother mine. There are other fish in the sea." George said cheerily, and got up to make breakfast.

"That there are, I know." Fred said. His tone remained neutral, though he still felt quite sad. It was strange, he knew, but he'd been keeping a secret from George. These thoughts about Hermione weren't new. They weren't just about the compliment over the joke products. He'd started to like the witch a while ago. There had been little moments here and there in the past two years.

He remember how pretty she had been at the Yule Ball. He'd even thought to ask her, though he was sure Ron would have done. It had been a shock to see her there with the burly Quidditch star, but not much of one. The girl had started to grow into her immense hair and mature temperament. So he'd gone with Angelina, and for a while he'd forgotten his momentary crush.

By the next year, however, he and Angelina had already discovered they made better friends. They had parted ways amicably, and Fred had once again found himself enamored with the best friend of his younger brother. Especially once they were in the D.A. together. She had developed this wonderful sense of mischief while Umbridge had been at the school. She had shown an appreciation for what Fred had always felt, which was that some rules just got in the way. In many ways, she was still little miss perfect. Perfect grades, perfect behavior, perfect smile…

"Oh Freddie...don't let a girl get you down. Not even Hermione Granger." George could see his brother wasn't bouncing back as easily from this one. It seemed strange to him, since he'd really not seen this as anything more than a bit of a crush. Fred was rarely this broken up about a girl who didn't look his way. Just in the few months they'd lived down in London, he had seen his brother turned down by at least three girls he'd struck up a lively conversation with. They'd all been lovelier girls than the little Granger, although probably far less intelligent.

"George, I cocked it up. Badly. I couldn't tell her, so I let her find out from a note? What was I thinking?" Fred moaned, putting his hands over his eyes, Ginny's letter falling to the table.

"So?" George said, still not understanding.

"So!? I really like her! She's beautiful, and cheeky, and so smart. She stands up for herself, and she's not afraid to do what's right, even if it doesn't make her very popular. And so much more, George! So much...and I cocked it up." The words tumbled from him, and much to his relief his twin didn't seem too mortified by the outburst.

"Wow, sorry mate. I guess you'll just have to wait for her to write, and maybe just talk to her." George said. Fred nodded, because that really was all he could do.

Thus began the longest day of Fred's short life. The clock in the shop crawled through the day. He was dully aware that business was booming, but he moved through it with a mechanical precision he didn't know he was capable of. A gaggle of bright young faces came in, and that pulled Fred from his dreadful state. There was something about kids that made Fred especially cheerful. He loved to wow them with tricks, and surprise them with treats.

"What's this one do, Mr. Fred?" A cute little boy with tightly braided hair asked with a huge toothy smile.

"Those turn into mice when someone tries to use them. Or they flop around like useless twigs." He brandished one of the false wands, and with a pop and a squeak it became a mouse he was holding by the tail. "The next ones we get in, we were told, might even turn into little green garden snakes. Great for scaring sisters." He said with a big wink.

"Or brothers!" A little girl with bright blue eyes piped up. "My brother thinks snakes are the worst, and he screams any time he sees them. Even the little cuties."

"Or brothers," Fred agreed solemnly, "Just try not to scare your parents, or they may not bring you back!"

It was a nice way to spend the afternoon.

Research on his newest product was coming along most swimmingly. After their series on various sickness inducing sweets, he'd had a few plans for some new medicine like treats. His current idea was sweets that would transform you into your Patronus, or your zodiac animal. However, he had learned from the trouble he'd had with the previous series of dosage based magic. So, he had decided to do something unconventional. He was studying medicinal dosages from muggle medical books. There was something to the way doctors compensated for the body's filtering systems that made sense in terms of magic as well.

"The dosage for less magical folks, or for younger children, will have to be less…" Fred said quietly to himself as he took notes. "Since their magic is less likely to filter out our charm. Probably why Harry's cousin had such an intense reaction to the ton-tongue toffee..." He felt rather clever for his cross discipline, and he couldn't help but think it might be a bit impressive to a certain witch as well.

He had managed to make it through much of the day without allowing his thoughts to return to her, but now he had returned to it. It stung a bit, but he felt he could only blame himself. He had been a right coward, and it had cost him.

Tip-tap-tip-tap.

A brown owl scratched insistently at the window. Fred looked at it with confusion for a moment, then realized it was probably a school owl. This was the moment he'd waited for all day. He'd finally see his rejection in Hermione's own hand. He was shaking as he took the note from the owl, and it flew off again as soon as it was relieved of the burden it carried.

Fred could hear his brother moving around in their small kitchen, cleaning up Butterbeer bottles and putting the clean plates in the cupboard. As he read the note, his brows raised up and disappeared into his flaming red hair.

Dear Fred,

I got your letter. Thank you for the sweets, and the lovely stationery. I love the canaries printed along the edges. It's beautiful, and they are my favorite bird. I never told you that, so how did you guess?

I'm sorry about what I said about the charms. I didn't realize I didn't know I thought you were playing a joke on me. But I guess you weren't.

I'm really rubbish at this. The whole dating, liking, being a girl sort of thing. I guess that comes when you're a bookish girl. And now I'm rambling. You must think I'm so odd.

Ok! Well, I just wanted to apologize.

Best,

Hermione.

P.S. If you'd still like lunch with me, I'd be happy to meet you. I'll owl when I get our first Hogsmeade date.

"That absolute prat…" Fred whispered.

"So, she did turn you down, then?" George asked, leaning over with curiosity.

Fred handed the letter to his brother and began to laugh. As George read, he too began to chuckle.

"I will get that sister of ours. I can't believe she let me go through this whole day in such a state!" Fred looked to the ceiling with his oath, but he never dropped his smile.

"Well, I for one am proud. We'd've done the same, I think." George said.

Fred nodded his agreement, then sighed contentedly.

"She said yes, George. She'll go out with me."