AN: I know I said this story would be only romance, but I can't help but develop the friendship between Harry and Hermione. They're too pure and good.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything

Chapter Two: Purple and Orange Robes

Fred didn't know what happened. One moment she was cuddled against his side, and then the next she was staring at him like he was an inferi or something another. She'd looked so anxious and scared as she backed away from him, and when he finally stood to follow her, he could do nothing but stare as she ran from him. She had actually run away from him. You could imagine what a girl you fancied running away from you did for one's ego. It wasn't good.

Something had changed in Hermione when she'd woken up after the Department of Mysteries. She was paying closer attention to him than ever before, but he wouldn't necessarily call it good attention. He made her nervous, but not in the way he usually made birds nervous. It was more like he'd done something very wrong, and she was trying to figure out his motives.

He supposed he'd take anything at this point, after all, his feelings towards her had changed after the ministry as well.

Fred sighed deeply and brushed his hair back from his face. He collapsed back onto the sofa and threw his arm over his eyes. He was going to have to work on his patience if he was ever going to finally have a break through with Hermione.

Hermione spent days disappearing into the many hiding places of Grimmauld Place and doing something that always brought her comfort.

Studying.

She made detailed notes in her journal of every image of Fred Weasley that her mind supplied her with. The ones that concerned her were the last two of the sequence. His mop of red hair leaning over to press kisses to a heavily bandaged wrist and the last one. Blood dripping down his freckled temple. That one never failed to send shivers running down her spine. There was no doubt it was Fred. And there was no doubt that the blood was from a terrible wound. The images flashed in front of her eyes then. His eyes fluttering closed as blood continued to pour down the side of his face. His freckles standing out in contrast to his pale, sickly skin. It made her feel ill and wary of the future.

She wrote down every question she had (which were many). There were just a few that she continued to ask over and over again.

At what point in her life did the visions end?

Was the last one when her own life ended?

Were they connected to the war?

Why Fred Weasley?

The only conclusion that she could come to was that her magic was trying to tell her something, and though Hermione was known for following logic and her brain, just this once she decided it might be best to follow her magic and her heart. Her gut was telling her that she'd had these visions for a reason. But honestly why couldn't they be about Ron or Harry or Ginny? Fred gave her heart palpitations and made her entire stomach twist into a mess of those so called butterflies. It was ghastly.

After two weeks of hiding and introspection, she came to her final conclusion.

Yes, she, Hermione Granger, was going to go with the flow.

It was a tall order for sure, but she would be doing her best starting as soon as she had a good and honest talk with Fred.

It was with that determination that she marched herself downstairs in hopes that Fred was there. She was wording her perfect apology for running away from him when she ran headlong into someone else.

"Oh! So sor-" She trailed off when she pulled back to meet the emerald green eyes of her best friend. "Harry!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she threw her arms around his neck and crushed him close to her. With her eyes squeezed shut, she pushed her chin tightly into the crook of his neck. All thoughts of Fred disappeared in the arms of Harry.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered.

After a few moments of him tensely standing in her arms, he slowly reached out to wrap her in an embrace. "Hey there, Mione."

"Oi! Let the man breathe!" Ron bellowed from somewhere behind Harry. Hermione reluctantly pulled back and rested her hands on his cheeks. He was different. Somehow he looked a lot older than he had just a month and a half ago. His eyes had a new darkness to them, and he was a good few inches taller. His shoulders were broader, but he looked like he'd lost weight from his time with the Dursleys.

"I wanted to write," she breathed out. "Dumbledore-"

"Yeah, Ron told me," he interrupted. The tension and bitterness was palpable in his tone. She could see the anger hidden carefully behind his eyes, and she felt tears well up in hers again. She blinked rapidly to suppress it. Her hands dropped from his cheeks, and she averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She took a step away from him, and after a few seconds of tense silence, she felt Harry grab her shoulders and pull her in for another hug.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked quietly. His voice sounded guilty and apologetic this time, so she snuggled closer to him. Her cheek pressed against his chest. She didn't have to ask what he was talking about. She'd had a feeling that he'd spent the last month and a half blaming himself for Sirius and blaming himself for her injury.

"No, Harry. Promise."

It was a lie. Sometimes it still burned something fierce as a result of the dark magic, and she still dreamed of the maniacal look in Antonin Dolohov's eyes right before he cursed her. Harry didn't need to know that.

"I'm sorry," they both whispered simultaneously.

When they pulled away this time, Harry looked more sad than anything, and Ron was eyeing them suspiciously.

"Come on, you lot," Ron finally said. "I suppose we've got some catching up to do."

Hermione and Ron sat in silent shock following Harry's retelling of the prophecy.

"Neither can live while the other survives…" Hermione whispered. Neither Harry nor Ron reacted to her reiteration. Her mind was whirring. After a few more moments of the stunned silence, Ron finally burst.

"So you really are the bloody chosen one, huh?"

Harry laughed, and Hermione smacked him on the head. "Language, Ronald!"

"Oi, Hermione! Does it even matter when it's just us?"

She sputtered, "Well, of course it does."

Ron simply rolled his eyes before turning back to an amused Harry. "Well that prophecy just makes it simple, doesn't it?"

"How on earth would that make things simple, Ronald?" Hermione glared.

"Stop Ronald-ing me," Ron narrowed his eyes before waving a dismissive hand and turning to Harry with a grin. "We just have to make sure golden boy over here is the one that survives."

Harry rubbed the back of his head and smirked, "Shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Hermione was thoughtful for a moment before giving Ron a curious expression, "I suppose you're right, Ronald."

Ron's eyes widened before he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "Bloody hell! I'm going to ignore the fact that you just called me Ronald because you admitted I'm right about something!"

"Honestly!" She sighed as Harry and Ron both burst into a fit of laughter.

They spent another hour talking about both the prophecy and Harry's odd interaction with Horace Slughorn before Ron announced that he was going downstairs to needle his mother about dinner.

Harry and Hermione both remained in the room they had deemed Harry's and Ron's a long time ago and took a few moments to study each other. It was Harry that broke the silence.

"You lied earlier."

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said loftily.

Harry gave her an indulgent smile before it dropped slowly into a heavy frown. She absently reached a hand up to rub at the start of the angry purplish scar by her collar bones. Just the tip of it was visible under the collar of her shirt and Harry's eyes latched onto it. When she caught his line of sight her hand flattened to cover it.

"It's nothing," she whispered. Harry's eyes grew impossibly more sad.

"Don't do that, Hermione. Not with me."

Slowly she lowered her hand and twisted it together with her other one painfully. Harry had grown surprisingly observant in the last couple of years. She really couldn't get anything past him.

He asked the same question from earlier, "Does it still hurt?"

"It's not bad," she said carefully.

He gave her a look and added, "You're a rubbish liar."

She sighed and looked at the ceiling, "It's just every once in a while. It'll burn like it's fresh, but it doesn't happen that often. I've done some research, and it apparently is a common side effect of a dark curse. It will fade with time." When she glanced back over at him, he was frowning with his eyes still on the scar. At home and nearly every day she'd been wearing high collared shirts to hide scarring, but today she'd absentmindedly thrown on one of Ron's old Chudley Cannon's t-shirts that left it visible. She's been so distracted today that she had hardly noticed that the first thing people looked at when they saw her was the scar.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered miserably. "It's my fault we were there, my fault you almost died, and my fault Sirius is gone."

Hermione immediately jumped to her feet and sat at his side. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed her forehead against his arm.

"I will not sit here and listen to you spout such nonsense, Harry Potter. None of this is your fault. Sirius died fighting for what was right, and to say anything different would terribly discount his name."

He'd started to cry about halfway through her speech, and Hermione just held him tighter as the quiet sobs shook his body. She'd never seen Harry lose grip on his emotions like this, and her heart felt like it was breaking.

"And I went into the Ministry of my own volition. It was my choice, and I'd do it again." His wet nose made contact with her bare arm, and she felt his glasses press into her skin. She understood now that just as Harry had to be strong for the entire Wizarding world, she would have to be strong for him. She steeled her resolve. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Harry, but you're stuck with me for the rest of your life. I'll be following you everywhere."

He let out a dry chuckle that shook both of their bodies, and Hermione smiled at the small victory. One of his hands came up to grip her arms, "That's what scares me, but thank you, Mione," he whispered.

"I love you, Harry."

He pressed a kiss to her arm before straightening his spine and letting out a few more sniffles. Slowly she stood and straightened her shirt.

Right as Harry had wiped his face and cleaned his glasses, the door burst open and a smiling Ron stood in its place.

"Dinner is ready!"

Then he turned and disappeared back the way he came. Hermione smiled at Harry before taking his glasses back off his face to clean them more thoroughly.

When she placed them back on his face, she said cheekily, "Excited to see Ginny?"

He turned a soft pink before his lips slowly turned up into a smirk, "I dunno, Mione. Were you excited to see Fred?"

Before she could even react Ron's voice bellowed from the ground floor, "Hurry it up will you! Mum won't let us start 'til you're both down here!"

Right as they started to descend the stairs, Hermione pointed an accusatory finger at her friend, "We will be discussing this later, Harry Potter."

"I'm so excited," he said sarcastically before sprinting the rest of the way to avoid Hermione's swinging hand.

"You're insufferable!" She yelled right as she turned the corner into the dining room.

"Who's insufferable?" Hermione pulled to a full stop to avoid running face first into the chest of the person she had been searching for when she'd first run into Harry earlier that day.

"Fred!" She screeched in surprise. He smiled at her and quirked his head to the side.

"I'm insufferable?"

"No, I mean yes, but also no?" When his face twisted into an amused grin, she turned bright red and moved to walk around him. "Bugger," she mumbled to herself before taking her now regular seat beside Charlie.

When Fred dropped into the seat beside her, she gave him an incredulous look, but he dutifully ignored her in favor of swiping the platter of chicken off the table before Ron could make a grab for it. She noticed then that many more people were sitting at the table than were typical, and she could only assume that it was because of Harry's arrival.

Remus, Tonks, both the twins (who had taken to spending nearly all their time at their shop and flat), Bill with his girlfriend, Fleur, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and all the permanent residents of Grimmauld were situated in the large dining room. Harry had taken the spot in between Ron and Remus, and she could see him making nervous eyes at Ginny across the table, who was too preoccupied glaring at Fleur to notice. It was a chaotic meal with everyone trying to engage Harry in conversation, and Fleur intoning her rather haughty opinion on every topic.

Hermione was absolutely positive Fred was trying to drive her to insanity. At first she thought it might be an accident, but when his hand brushed against her for the third time, she knew it was on purpose. The first time it was just their hands brushing as she reached for the potatoes, but then his leg moved over so that the length of their thighs were pushed together. Then the third one really just pushed her over the top. He laughed and leaned back in his chair, only for his arm to land on the back of her own chair, his fingertips brushing against the skin on the back of her arm next to Charlie. Her initial reaction was to yank away because of the jolts his touch was sending through her entire body, but she swallowed that down in favor of sitting tensely beside him. When she finally glanced up from her plate, Harry was smirking at her from down the table.

"Arrogant prat," she mumbled to herself.

Seconds later, Fred's arm tightened around her to pull her into his side. "What was that, Hermione?"

Hermione's face flamed at the closeness of his face and she said weakly, "I don't believe I was speaking to you, Fred Weasley."

He smirked, "Then who, may I ask, were you calling an arrogant prat?"

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin up to look down her nose at him, "You may not ask."

She abruptly leaned forward, so that his grip had to loosen and took her fork up again.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, how is your work at the Ministry?"

Her question launched the entire table into a heated conversation about the current state of the Wizarding government. She tried to focus on Kingsley's voice, but she yet again found herself distracted when Fred had dropped his arm back to where it was before and began to play with the ends of her curls.

She was thankful that the only people who seemed to notice Fred's closeness were Harry, George, and Fleur who was eyeing the pair with a curious expression.

It wasn't until the end of the meal that he pulled away. Ron let out a loud cough that had everyone's heads at the table turning towards him. When he coughed again, everyone's eyes widened at the puff of smoke that came out.

"Ronald, what on earth is wrong with you!" Molly screeched.

He let out one final cough that turned into a sneeze that then turned into what looked like the start of a firework flying straight out of his nose.

Hermione watched in awe along with everyone else at the table as it flew to the very center of the table before exploding into an explosion of sparks that spelled out Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in large and fanciful, purple and orange letters.

That's when the warmth of Fred's arm (that she had grown reluctantly used to) disappeared, and he jumped to his feet at the exact instance that George did.

"That's right!"

"You heard it here-"

"First, Ladies and-"

"Gentlemen!"

"Opening day is-"

"Tomorrow!"

"Don't forget, and do prepare-"

"To empty your pockets!"

With that both of them leaned forward and slammed their hands together before taking their seats again to the loud applause and laughter of those around the table. Hermione found herself glad when Fred's arm dropped back to its place behind her. She leaned over when everyone was still guffawing and whispered close to his ear.

"You know, that was actually quite brilliant magic."

He pulled back with wide eyes before his face melted into a proud and pleased expression. "You'll be there tomorrow, won't you?"

She studied his hopeful expression for a moment before nodding and saying softly, "Of course, Fred. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

The next morning found her trying on all the clothes in her trunk in a way that left her feeling like a silly girl. When she eventually settled on a soft cream jumper and her muggle jean shorts, she was satisfied. The collar of the jumper covered her scar just barely, but she sighed and decided it would just have to do. She refused to change for the tenth time. After throwing on her canvas sneakers and tucking her wand in shorts just in case, she made her way down to the bottom of the stairs to see that nearly everyone was downstairs and ready to go.

"Oh, lovely sweater, dear," Molly said absently before turning towards where she had come from to yell at Ginny to hurry down.

Seconds later, the fiery red-head was latching onto Hermione's elbow and hopping on the balls of her feet anxiously.

"I am just so excited," she said unnecessarily.

"I can tell, Ginny." The girl looked around before leaning over to whisper conspiratorially.

"I mean… aren't you excited as well, Mione? Fred is certainly excited to show you."

"Hush, Ginny!" Hermione admonished. Ginny let go of her elbow to stand in front of her and latch onto Hermione's upper arms. The determination on her face made Hermione realize just how grown-up Ginny had become without her realizing. She was quite beautiful, and Harry's newly found affection for her made every bit of sense.

"Hermione…" She said quite seriously before squeezing her arms and saying, "It is Fred, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"That you fancy," Ginny whispered.

"Well, I," Hermione sputtered, but she couldn't think of any way to finish her sentiment. Did she fancy Fred?

"He's mad about you, you know," Ginny said with a proud smile.

Right after Ginny finished that staggering statement, Molly bustled through the group of people clapping her hands loudly.

"Come along then! I'd like to beat the crowd!"

The entire walk from The Leaky Cauldron they could hear loud squeals of excitement and firework explosions that they knew must be coming from WWW. Hermione was too busy looking at all of the closed shops and shuttered windows to really notice the excitement in the air. Leave it to the twins to open a joke shop when the world otherwise seemed so dreary.

Before she knew it they were at the doors and being shuffled in along with a bustling crowd. Hermione's first thought was that she had never seen something so extraordinary.

She allowed Ginny to excitedly pull her through the throng of people from product stand to product stand. Hermione couldn't wipe the eager grin off her face if she tried. She was stalled when Ginny pulled her to a stand full of potions with a pearly sheen to them. Before she'd even stepped closer, the aroma of the love potions filled her nose due to the sheer amount of them on the stand. She stopped dead in her tracks.

Freshly mowed grass, new parchment, spearmint toothpaste, and something else that she hadn't been able to identify before, but now knew it to be the woodsy scent that had surrounded her when Fred held her in his arms that one night.

"Oh no," she mumbled to herself, but Ginny pulled her to the next stand before she could think much on it.

She was studying the Patented Daydream Charms when she felt an arm snake around her shoulder.

"Hermione!" An excited voice yelled out before a kiss was pressed to the top of her head that had her blushing down to her roots and left Ginny giggling madly behind her.

"Fred!" She exclaimed. She watched as he looked down at the box of Daydream Charms in her hands before glancing up at her with a bit of a smirk.

"Interested in our Patented Daydream Charms I see. Fancy skipping out on reality eh, Hermione?"

She thought of a million different nasty things to respond to protect herself, but instead said something she genuinely meant. "It's a brilliant bit of magic, Fred."

Just like yesterday, he looked surprised before smiling widely at her like her opinion meant a great deal to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but a puff of black smoke filled the air between them. A second later, pain erupted across her face, and she let out a startled gasp. When the smoke cleared, she was holding her cheek with watering eyes, and Fred was looking at her in complete panic.

"Oh, bollocks," he muttered.

"Fred Weasley, what was that!" Ginny squealed.

"That'll be the punching telescope," he said regretfully.

All three of them watched as a couple giggling boys ran away from the offending item before reaching out and taking Hermione's hand gently in his.

"Come along then, Hermione. I've got some bruise-remover paste in the back."

She was being pulled through the busy shop again, but this time by a much different Weasley.

When they walked by George at the till he paused in his conversation with a couple boys that looked to be about the age of first years to give them a curious look. When he saw Hermione's already bruising eye, he actually grinned which left her scowling.

"Punching telescope?" He asked knowingly.

Fred ignored him in favor of pulling her into what must be their workroom. There were cauldrons brewing against one wall and shelves filled with ingredients. There was one wall covered in spellotaped notes and drawings and shelves full of textbooks and notebooks. He let go of her hand to start digging through the cupboards for a jar of bruising paste, and Hermione took the freedom to look closer at the designs on the wall.

She was impressed to say the least. She always knew the twins were brilliant, but to see all of their aspirations and hard work brought to life was truly something to behold. She was pulled from her musings when she heard Fred clear his throat behind her. She spun, and Fred let out a low whistle.

"It got you right and true, that's for sure." He sighed before pulling a stool out from the work table behind him and setting it next to her. Without prompting, she pulled herself up onto the metal stool and sat facing him.

He immediately stepped forward and used one hand to push her knees apart, so that he was standing in between them. He opened the jar before placing the lid behind her on the table. His chest brushed against hers as he did so.

Hermione couldn't breathe as her entire vision was overtaken by the purple and orange robes.

She reacted better this time to seeing something from her dreams. That is, until her mind wandered to all of the other visions. Like a terrible countdown to the final one, they appeared in her mind's eye. By the time he had pulled away with the bruising paste in one hand and a sorry smile on his face, Hermione was deathly pale.

He stepped even closer to her and put one hand on her cheek.

"Merlin, Hermione, you're shaking."

She just continued to study his face. His bloodless, tanned face.

"Is this about the telescope? I'm sorry. I meant to warn you about them, but I forgot I suppose."

Hermione shook her head, "It's not that," she whispered. She focused her eyes on his temple, and his thumb made a sweep from just under her eye to the bottom of her cheek. When she swore she could hear the pounding of her own heart, she finally realized that he had shut the door behind them, and the sounds of the shop were nothing but a distant buzz.

"What is it then?" The concern in his eyes had her stomach fluttering. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm not all pranks and jokes. I can be quite serious when needed."

Hermione's eyes softened then and her cheek leaned into the soft skin of his hand.

"Are you scared, Fred?"

Fred found himself once again being thrown for a loop at the quick turns Hermione's moods were taking.

"That's an awfully broad question." He said in confusion.

He watched as her eyes shut, and she seemed to pull away from him slightly. Not wanting that to happen he set the paste behind her blindly before reaching up to hold both of her cheeks. She blinked up at him owlishly, and he swallowed deeply. He'd told her he could be serious and now was his chance.

"I've been scared before."

"You have?" She asked disbelievingly.

He gulped before continuing, "When I was in the Hospital Wing, and I saw you wrapped in bandages and unconscious. That was scary."

She stared at him unabashedly as his eyes dropped to where the collar of her jumper had shifted slightly so that he could see the very edge of that purple scar. Seeing this dark and terrible thing right in front of him... that scared him. What if she hadn't silenced him? He looked back up to her eyes as she studied his reaction to it carefully. And the way Hermione made his heartbeat just by staring at him? That bloody terrified him.

"What's happening, Hermione?"

He watched as she seemed to steel herself. "I'm scared, Fred."

Hermione admitting her fear to him seemed like a great deal. She took pride in being a strong and independent witch. Gryffindor through and through. Seeing her looking up at him with that expectant look in her eyes, made his heart warm despite the contents of their conversation. He allowed his hands to ghost across her cheeks before pulling her tightly to his chest.

"Is this about the war?" He asked quietly as he buried his nose in her hair.

Nothing could have prepared him for her answer.

"It's about you, Fred."

He pulled away and looked at her with wide eyes. After a moment of silence, she started talking, and she didn't stop. Not much of it actually made sense to him.

"What if all of these things are just leading up to the end? And I let it all happen only for you to die? Why would my magic set me up for that kind of… heartache? Why did I have to see any of it at all? What if I die? Or Harry? Or you?"

By the end, her chest was heaving, and her face was flushed a violent red.

"What if you die in the war, Fred?" She reiterated.

At that Fred pulled her into his chest again so that there was no space between them.

"You can't know that, Hermione." He pressed multiple kisses to the top of her head before pressing his own flushed cheek against her curls. "What kind of life would it be if you spent all of it too scared to actually live? You can't push people away because you don't want it to hurt if they leave you because it's going to hurt anyway."

He pulled away again and took one look at her face to make sure she was fine before reaching behind her again for the paste.

"Now, just sit still and let me heal your bruise."

Hermione wiped at her relatively dry eyes before letting out a shaky laugh, "You just sounded like your mum."

He threw a hand to his chest and staggered away like it was a physical blow. "You wound me, Hermione!"

After another few moments of dramatics, he reached out and gently began to apply it to her bruised skin.

"Should be all healed up in an hour," he whispered.

In the aftermath of her breakdown, they were both a little uncomfortable. Fred spelled his hands clean before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Listen, Hermione, I was wondering if you wanted to-"

"Oi! Freddie!"

Both of them jumped and turned to the door right as it flew open. George's anxious face appeared.

"If you're not too busy wooing your lady love, I need some help up front!"

He disappeared without another word, and Fred turned back to Hermione.

"Right then," he said hoarsely. He pulled on one of her curls affectionately before backing away with a mock salute. "Until next time, lady love."

Right as he was about to exit the door, he sent her a wink.

Hermione took a few more minutes to collect herself before finally making her way back onto the shop floor. Seconds after she was past the till, a hand snatched hers, and she was being pulled through the shop for the third time.

"Harry!"

"I just saw Malfoy. We have to follow him!"

"Honestly," she exclaimed as she looked over her shoulder one last time.

Fred was on his knees on the ground explaining a product to a very small girl, but as if he felt her gaze, his blue eyes landed on hers. She allowed Harry to blindly guide her through the chaos and watched attentively as Fred whispered something to the girl without breaking eye contact. Then he pointed, and before she knew it, both him and the little girl were blowing dramatic kisses to her from across the shop. Hermione's face split into a grin, and her cheeks turned a soft and rosy pink. Hermione did something rather silly and out of character and reached up to pretend like she was catching the kisses before shoving her hand in her pocket. The little girl jumping up and down and clapping her hands made her grin wider but seeing the burning look in Fred's eyes made her heart pound.

Yes. Going with the flow. She could do this.

AN: Now that Hermione has gotten that off her chest, it'll be a little smoother from now on. Maybe.

Thanks as always for the follows, favorites, and reviews!