Wednesday afternoon found Hermione curled on the sofa and grading essays on the basics of potions safety. She glanced at the clock again. There were still two hours until she needed to be at the shop and her bloody neck was starting to ache from compulsively turning to check the time every fifteen minutes.
She sighed and plopped the stack of papers to the side; she had over two weeks to grade them, there really wasn't any rush to get it done. She had managed to get the spare room mostly cleared out, and she and Theo had tag-teamed deep cleaning the school after the children departed the afternoon of the day prior. Tuesday had been much more subdued than Monday, most of the class content to read and catch up on homework, or color and draw quietly.
She'd stalled a bit on the bedroom project now that the space was essentially empty, deciding to finish it after Christmas. It wasn't that she didn't have time; her nerves about Fred and the party and bringing Charlotte home were banding together to create a gigantic knot of anxiety in her stomach that said, in as many words, 'one thing at a time.'
Besides, she also needed to figure out what exactly to do with the space. Leaving it a blank slate seemed transient – as if she didn't expect the girl to stay, and that certainly wasn't the atmosphere she wanted to create. But decorating it a certain way made it feel as if she were trying to force a role on Charlotte, and that didn't feel right either.
After languishing for another twenty minutes over how to spend the rest of her afternoon, Hermione resigned to just go into the shop early. She'd need a quick tutorial on what she would be helping with anyway.
She threw on a pair of jeans and boots with a plain black jumper and headed out the door after giving Felix a scritch on the head and making sure his bowl was full. As Hermione neared the shop, she slowed upon seeing a line out the door of students in Hogwarts robes.
She debated trying to push her way through the crowd but quickly decided against it and instead apparated into the storeroom in the basement, knowing Fred's wards were adjusted to allow her in and out of the building freely.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed in response to her popping into existence five feet away from him. He clutched his chest and nearly tripped into a crate of skiving snack boxes. "What are you doing here?"
"I didn't have anything to do, so I thought I would come early; what the bloody hell is going on up there? Are you giving products away for free?"
"Minnie apparently decided to allow a visit to Hogsmeade before the train leaves tomorrow morning – you'd think she'd have the decency to warn me, right?"
"Okay… okay, it's nearly four and they'll have to be back at the castle by six. How long has it been like this? Why didn't you owl me?"
He started setting boxes of products to the side to be brought upstairs, which she neatly stacked and levitated.
"Hermione, wand to my head, I couldn't tell you my middle name right now," he said as he gave her a desperate look. "Can you bring those boxes up and help Jeremy with the till? I'm half-convinced he's going to abandon ship."
"On it," she said, heading up the steps quickly with the crates in tow before throwing over her shoulder, "and your middle name is Gideon." She emerged behind the counter and set the boxes beside the door for Fred to restock.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Jeremy cried upon seeing her. He was a tall, lanky boy with a shock of dark blonde hair and a scar under his right eye that he once tried to tell her was from fighting a manticore. After very little pressing, he'd admitted it was actually from a spill off of his broom when he was nine. "Can you please show these two where the trick wands are?"
"Of course," Hermione said, smiling at the pair of grinning fourteen-year-old boys, "right this way."
The next several hours passed in a blur. Though the crowd of students disappeared around six as predicted, they were replaced with all manner of other customers; middle aged witches looking for love potions, parents desperately searching for presents for their kids, people trying to find gag gifts for exchanges and holiday office parties.
Before she knew it, it was eight o'clock and Fred was ushering the last customer out the door, wasting no time in locking it and flipping the sign to closed as he did so. He turned around to find that Hermione and Jeremy had disappeared from behind the counter where they had been a moment ago.
"Where did you two-?"
"Down here," Hermione croaked, sitting beside Jeremy with her legs sprawled in front of her and her back against the wall. Fred came around and had to suppress a laugh at the state of the two of them. "I have never in my whole life been so grateful that I don't work in retail."
"I'm debating changing fields," Jeremy said, running a hand through his already-mussed hair.
"Don't you dare," Fred said in a warning tone, "I told you that you aren't allowed to quit until after the New Year."
"Do you hear this? Do you hear the way he talks to me?" Jeremy pleaded, turning to Hermione as if she might rescue him from his boss. Hermione snorted and accepted the hand Fred had extended, pulling her to her feet.
"Why don't you head home Jeremy, I can help Fred close up," she offered, beginning to walk slowly through the store and reorganize and straighten the products into their proper places. By the time she turned around a moment later the back door was swinging shut and he was gone, leaving Fred leaning against the counter, counting and closing out the drawer.
"I can't thank you enough for coming in Hermione," he said, pausing between knuts and sickles. He'd shut off the loop of holiday music that had been playing and the place was blissfully silent.
"I told you I would," she replied, "though if I'd known what I was getting myself into…"
He looked panicked for a moment before catching her smile and relaxing.
"So, you'll be back tomorrow?"
"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment."
They carried on in companionable silence for a while.
"Have you talked to Malfoy yet about Charlotte?" Fred asked, having moved from the cash drawer to restocking the products he hadn't yet gotten to.
"I was planning to tell him Saturday actually," she explained, contemplating continuing, "although I'm rethinking going to the party. I may just stop by the orphanage next week."
"Why wouldn't you go to the party?" Fred asked, stilling as he counted the number of nose biting teacups on the shelf.
"You know the holidays are difficult," she hedged, refusing to look in his direction. "I cleared out the spare room yesterday and had to sort through a lot of my parent's things, and frankly I'm beyond stressed about having to redecorate it for Charlotte."
"You shouldn't be," Fred responded easily, "I'm sure she'll love whatever you decide to go with. And, for what it's worth, I think you should go to the party. Stuff like that always seems more intimidating when you're talking about doing it versus just doing it."
"I guess you're right," she said before asking innocently, "Are you and Verity taking part in the gift exchange?"
It was a weak transition but, as Hermione had just said, she was a glutton for punishment, and she was too curious about how and when their relationship had developed to simply let it go.
"Uh, yeah," he said quietly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. A tiny, spiteful voice in the back of her head took pleasure in that, but the much louder part of her mind felt bad for even bringing it up. "Are you going with anybody?"
"No," Hermione said quickly, before adding, "I'm not really in a great place to be dating right now. Obvious reasons and all."
"Right, of course. Obvious reasons."
oOoOoOo
The next evening at the shop was much slower; Jeremy even had the opportunity to take a quick break to grab them takeaway from the Three Broomsticks while Hermione watched the counter and Fred circulated, answer questions and directing people.
Though she was careful not to stare, it was positively captivating observing him in his element. While Hermione had always known he was brilliant, OWL scores notwithstanding, seeing Fred run the store was like witnessing a ringmaster direct a circus. He'd answer a question for one customer while, without looking, summoning a portable swamp from the hands of a preteen that was about to set it off. He didn't even pause or blink. It was the very definition of controlled chaos.
"Hi Hermione," a feminine voice said, shaking her from her daze. She looked up to find a pair of light blue eyes framed by long blonde waves looking at her from across the counter.
"Oh, hi Verity," Hermione replied, offering a tight smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Just swinging by to grab a couple cases of screaming yo-yos; we're almost out in London and Fred made a bunch last week. How has helping at the shop been?"
Awkward and stiff no thanks to you, Hermione thought in a moment of uncharacteristic bitterness.
"Not bad at all – though I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer my classroom. Somehow it's much calmer."
"I believe it," Verity replied with a laugh, coming around the counter and opening the door to the storeroom before descending the stairs.
Hermione's lips twisted a bit as she watched the witch's back. How dare she be genuinely nice on top of looking as if she'd stepped off a runway? It seemed like some sort of universal injustice.
She'd just finished cashing out a pair of teenage girls when Verity reemerged, shrunken crates full of product in hand. "Well, I'll be off. I have to help George and Angie close up."
"Sure, have a good night Verity," Hermione said, not at all sorry to see her go. What on earth had gotten into her? Verity was nice. She liked Verity. Or, at least she had liked Verity before she found out that Fred apparently really liked Verity.
She watched with pursed lips when the blonde stopped to talk to Fred on the way out, who had just finished helping a customer. Hermione couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were both smiling and when Verity put her hand on Fred's arm, she felt her eye twitch.
No, this was ridiculous. She was not the type of woman that tore other women down in petty jealousy. No matter how much they ran their stupid, perfectly manicured fingers all over the man that she -
"Ma'am? Excuse me? MA'AM?"
"What?" Hermione asked, shaken to see a bespectacled witch standing across the counter from her.
"I asked you how much these cost," the witch repeated in an annoyed voice, brandishing a package of Loonar Loop Luminators in her face.
"Erm, two galleons apiece or three for five," Hermione said in a distracted tone, glancing back at Fred to find that Verity had departed. The witch wandered back onto the floor, grumbling about the 'youth of today.'
"Everything alright, Hermione?" Jeremy asked, having come in through the rear door. He set three boxes of fish and chips on the back counter and conjured a stool, beginning to quickly eat his own portion as he took in her dejected expression and slumped shoulders.
"Just grand," Hermione replied with a huff, absently straightening the jar of quills and stack of receipts. Jeremy worked with Fred all day, perhaps he would have some insight. She made sure the redheaded wizard was well out of earshot before turning and asking in a hushed tone, "Jeremy, how long have Fred and Verity been seeing each other?"
"Oh, that?" The boy asked through a mouthful of food. He tilted his head in thought. "Dunno. They were talking a lot when she came by the shop last week I guess."
"Did they seem interested in one another?"
"Interested how?"
"Like… romantically interested."
"Who's romantically interested?" Fred asked, having appeared behind her while her back was turned.
"Jeremy," she answered quickly, not paying attention when the boy in question began to violently choke on a chip. "In a girl. That lives in town. Jeremy is interested in a girl that lives in town."
"Is he now?" Fred inquired, eyes bright and a grin playing at the corners of his lips. The shop was empty save for the sullen witch from earlier and a small group of preteen boys discussing the merits of each type of trick wand.
"Yep," Hermione said before quickly changing topics. "Snackboxes are looking a little low, I'll go grab a few from downstairs."
She ducked through the doorway and disappeared as quickly as possible, leaving Fred and a watery-eyed, red-faced Jeremy looking at one another across the counter.
"I take it Hermione doesn't know you're gay?" Fred asked in an amused tone.