The bell overhead chimes as Hermione pushes through the door and into the shop, but it's quickly drowned out by the din from the other shoppers. Everywhere she looks, people are crowding around some extraordinary object or another, marvellingover the wares.
All thoughts of Harry and Teddy, who was still acting strangely when she left home, fade from her mind, and she smiles broadly. The Weasley twins are brilliant, but the thing she admires them for the most has to be their ability to replicate the warm, hectic feel of the Burrow.
Well, either that or being able to work in the ensuing chaos. While she can work under pressure, she would never be able to cope under such a relentless onslaught.
But Fred doesn't just cope there; he thrives there. It's like he builds off constant energy, using it to come back stronger instead of letting it tire him out. It's like photosynthesis, and she loves that about him.
At that thought, her face heats, and she almost turns to leave.
Besides, that's the rub, isn't it? He's as extroverted and outgoing as they come. Meanwhile, while she likes her share of socialising, she doesn't crave it like he does. She gets her strength from peace, not mayhem.
As much as they may respect and even like one another, can they ever be compatible in a romantic sense? She can't imagine going out in a large group, or with a Quidditch team post-match, just for the fun of it, yet he — and the girls he's dated in the past, who are just as interesting as her but more social like him — does so regularly.
She fancies him, and from what she can see, he feels the same way. But will that be enough in the long run?
'We've been friends for a while,' she says under her breath, the sound lost in the hustle of the shop. They may not share all the same interests, but they still have a lot in common — their values, their experiences, their worldviews…
That's enough.
And it's worth the risk. Like Harry said, she would hate to let the possibility pass them by without even trying to see what they could become.
Are you a Gryffindor or not?
Spurred on, she winds her way through the huddles of customers. A few kids sprint across her path without even looking, but she manages to reach the counter without incident.
Only to find Ron manning the till.
She hesitates, but only for a moment. After everything, she refuses to be dissuaded by a case of bad timing. "Hello, Ron. Is Fred here? I have some things to ask him," she says smoothly, used to deception after years of being friends with Harry.
"He's out back. I'm sure he won't mind if you just go right... oh."
Ignoring him, she hurries through the door and to the stockroom. Rows of boxes line the walls, much neater than she would expect from the twins. But then she supposes the organised chaos doesn't work without some kind of solid foundation.
"Fred?"
"Hermione?" Fred's voice, tinged with surprise, replies. "I didn't know you were dropping in today. I'm at the Reusable Hangmen."
"Er, and where are they?"
"Turn left at the entrance, then take the third right."
Following his instructions, she soon finds herself standing in front of him. He's crouched down on the ground, rummaging through a box.
"Did you extend this space? It's a lot bigger than it seems from the outside."
He winks at her. "Trade secrets. Don't tell."
"Do you have some time to talk?"
"I haven't taken my lunch break yet. If you can wait for me to finish up here, we could go out and grab something to eat."
Her heartbeat picks up at the phrase go out, but she does her best to control her nerves. "That would be wonderful. I'd love to go out… for lunch. I'd love to grab lunch with you."
"Great."
"You should come over for dinner tomorrow night," she adds. "And George, if he's free. But it's okay if he's not."
"Alright. I'll check with George. He's missed seeing you lot." Finally, he seems to find what he's looking for, pulling a smaller container from the box he was riffling through and standing up.
Think of Ginny, Hermione thinks, remembering how good her friend used to be at flirting. She forces herself to smile broadly as her left hand reaches up to touch her long hair. Her fingers twist the curls around like a circus performer with aerial silks.
She feels as obvious as a circus performer, too. She even tries batting her eyelashes, but it makes her feel stupid, so she stops almost immediately. Instead, she reaches up to fiddle with her eyelid, pretending to be removing a speck of dirt from her eye.
She hasn't had to flirt with someone she isn't already dating in years.
"Hermione," Fred says slowly, frowning at her, "are you alright?"
"Yeah." She drops her hand.
What would Ginny have said?
Ginny would have said to cut the crap and be honest.
"Apart from utterly embarrassing myself with my horrid attempts at flirting, that is. Look, Fred, I fancy you. And it seemed like you were interested in me as well the other day."
"That was flirting?" he asks incredulously. Then, quickly, he adds: "I am interested, convulsive flirting or not."
She lets out a relieved breath. "Good to know. So… Should we make lunch a date, then?"
He grins, and his happiness is almost contagious, just like everything else in the shop. "It sounds like we should."