A few weeks had passed since Bill and Fleur's announcement on their pregnancy. Everyone would bomb them with several questions asking how far along they were or whether or not they knew the gender of the baby. Everyone, that is, except Hermione, whose thoughts happened to be occupied by another event that took place later that same day.

This event being the kiss she had shared with Fred that night.

It all seemed to happen all so fast. One second he was holding her and comforting her. The next second, he was giving her a grand speech about how brilliant she was and how worthy of love he thought she was; the latter being something that had surprised her. Then suddenly his lips were on hers.

Never in her life had Hermione remembered being kissed like this. Granted, she only had the references of two other people: Viktor Krum and, of course, Ron. She had only kissed Viktor a handful of times, each time being - as she remembered it - rather awkward and sloppy as she was inexperienced and Viktor was not the best kisser. Kissing Ron, on the other hand, had not been awkward, but she the fireworks that everyone seemed to talk about were absent.

Oh, but kissing Fred was exhilarating. Kissing him did not only cause fireworks to burst with every beat of her heart. Kissing Fred was like feeling the sunshine on her face for the very first time. Like a desert finally being washed with rain. Like be found after being lost for a hundred years.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise, which broke Hermione out of the her thoughts and brought her crashing back into the present.

She was in the workroom of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes working on a new product: mints that caused the consumer to become temporarily mute. She had gotten so distracted that the ingredients in her cauldron had become overheated causing an explosion worthy of Seamus Finnigan, though the sound of the explosion was quite a bit louder than anything Seamus had ever managed to pull off.

"Damn," she whispered under her breath before waving her wand and causing the ruined brew to vanish. Hermione then heard a couple of loud, stumbling footsteps outside before the door burst open, revealing two tall and panting figures.

"What happened?" Fred and George asked together, their wands raised and ready to attack any intruder.

"Nothing," Hermione began. "Just a little accident."

Both Fred and George lowered their wands, relief flooding their faces as they did so.

"Blimey, Hermione," Fred breathed. "Nearly gave George and I a heart attack, you did."

"S-sorry," she mumbled nervously, looking anywhere but at Fred.

Fred and Hermione had barely said more than a few words to each other since that night in the kitchen. Hermione always made some excuse in order to avoid Fred. Her logic being that being alone with him would make things more complicated than what they already were.

"Well, at least you're all right," George said.

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine," Hermione told them, getting slightly annoyed that they were still pestering her about it. "Just go back to whatever it was that you were doing."

George did not have to be told twice, so he left almost immediately. Fred, on the other hand, stayed lingering, arms crossed, in the doorway much to Hermione's dismay.

"Honestly, Fred, I'm fine," she told him still not meeting his gaze.

"I'm sure you are," he said simply.

"Then why are you still here?"

"I think you know exactly why I'm still here, Hermione," he said quietly.

Finally, Hermione looked at him. Fred's face held no sign of humor. In fact, he looked rather serious. The intensity of his gaze upon her made her want to look away, but for some unbeknownst reason she could not seem to bring herself to.

"Fred," she whispered.

"We have to talk about it, Hermione," he told her as walked over to the table where she sat. "I can't go on pretending like nothing happened."

"Fred, we can't. I can't!" she whisper-yelled, looking away from him.

"Why?" His eyes were growing wide with determination. He took the seat next to her and placed a hand over her own one that was resting on the table. "Please, look at me."

She did and was shocked to see how many emotions were swimming behind his brown eyes. A great deal of those emotions being ones she could not name.

"We have to talk about it," he said again.

She shook her head. "What is there to talk about, Fred? People kiss and not mean it all the time," she said, hoping that that would cause him to drop the subject.

"But I meant it! You know I meant it."

"Yeah," she began, sighing with defeat, "I know."

There was a long pause before either of them spoke again. Hundreds of thoughts zooming through both their heads, no doubt.

"Hermione," Fred said, breaking the silence. "I must confess that I have harbored feelings for you for a number of years now. I never said anything because I always figured that you fancied Ron, so I let it alone.

"But y'know, ever since that wall collapsed on me and I survived, it got me thinking that life's to short to be afraid. Nearly dying has allowed me to realize what it is that I want."

Hermione cleared her throat. "And what is it that you want?"

"You," he said simply. "It's always been you. I've waited too bloody long, and now I've been given the chance to start over."

All Hermione could do was stare. In all her life she could never imagine someone saying such things to her.

Fred leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before saying, "At least think about it?"

She only nodded and watched as Fred got up and left the room.

oOo

Hermione was sitting on the sofa in the sitting room of the Burrow. A book was opened in her lap, but she was too distracted with her thoughts to be reading. Those thoughts consisting mostly of Fred and the question he had asked her a couple of days ago.

Should I, Hermione Jean Granger, give Frederick Gideon Weasley a chance? she thought to herself. She laughed for it was almost comical to have both their names in a sentence that implied such things. However, despite that small amount of humor those words brought her, Hermione could not help but wonder if the insinuation of it was such a bad idea after all.

"What's so funny?" came a voice causing Hermione to once again be broken from her thoughts.

She was surprised, though not displeased, to see Ron standing a few feet away. His face held no ounce of anger nor hatred, but there was a guarded air about him.

"Ron," she said smiling softly at him.

He returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "What were you laughing about?" he asked again.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking," she replied, standing as she marked her place in her book and set it aside.

"What about?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing of great importance."

Liar

"Well, can we talk, then?" he asked her.

"Of course, Ron." Hermione turned all her attention on the man (the fact that he was no longer a boy was still appalling to her) in front of her. "What is it you want to talk about?"

Ron sighed before speaking, "Look, I just wanted to say that you were right, and that I'm sorry about the way I've treated you the past two months."

She was shocked to hear those words leave Ron's mouth. In all the time she had known him he had never been the one to apologize on his own accord. Usually he would only apologize after a good few weeks of Harry chewing his ear off about it, but something told her that Harry had nothing to do with Ron's apology this time.

"You were right," he said again. "You and I don't love each other; not romantically, anyway. I just... I just thought -"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Ronald," Hermione interrupted. "I forgive you, and I'm sorry too."

He smiled at her as a way of telling her that he accepted her apology as well.

Without really thinking about it, they wrapped their arms around each other in a quick hug.

"Here's to starting over," Ron said as they broke apart.

The conversation Hermione had had with Fred suddenly filled her mind.

"And what is it that you want?"

"You," he said simply. "It's always been you. I've waited too bloody long, and now I've been given the chance to start over."

Hermione smiled up at Ron, "To starting over," she repeated, for in that moment she finally had an answer to Fred's question.