They disappeared back inside, Fred merging back with his band and Hermione rejoining her old friends with bruised lips and wide eyes. She spent the rest of the night drinking, drowning out feelings she didn't have time for and thoughts of his tongue slipping across hers. She turned away from every flash of red hair, knowing that if she saw him again she would make a very stupid decision.

By the time Harry dropped her off at her apartment, Hermione could barely pull down her bed before collapsing into it. She woke in the morning to the sound of loud mariachi music from the apartment below her, slamming against her head. She pulled out her cell, responding to various messages and check in's from her friends. Oddly enough she had one from Theo as well.

Theo (5:52am) Granger, darling. Sweet. Love. Princess so kind and wonderful. Please tell me you didn't die last night.

Hermione (7:02am) Still kicking why?

She pushed up from the bed trying not to think about how her brain felt way too large for her skull and prepped a quick egg white omelet and a French press.

Theo (7:04am) Thank god you're up. Draco and Pansy played tonsil hockey all night and then came home to rut like animals in heat. It's disgusting. Sanctuary, please.

Hermione (7:05am) I have a one room apartment that's horribly out of your way. I think the large townhouse where you could just MOVE ROOMS would be better .

Theo (7:05am) It's knowing that mating frenzy is happening less than 100 feet away that kills me. Directions?

Hermione (7:08am) Go stay in a hotel then. That's why you have money.

She choked down the food while pulling on her rehearsal gear and grabbing her shoes.

Theo (7:10am) You are a genius among idiots. Thank you.

Theo (7:13am) Incidentally can you let me know when the next big show for the Last Laugh is? Someone saw them on my story and wanted to check them out.

Hermione grabbed the thermos of black coffee and swept into the elevator with a groan. Malfoy would be there early and snippy, nursing his own hangover and regrets about his on again off again fling with Pansy. Hermione had no idea why they even bothered; they always seemed to be at each other's throats in one way or another. But it wasn't her problem and it meant that Malfoy probably had some Tylenol to share.

Just as she began her walk to the subway her phone buzzed. Careful to dodge past a particularly deep pothole as she crossed the street, she pulled out her cell and was surprised to see an unsaved number.

(7:28am) Hey it's Fred. Ron gave me your number. Make it home okay?

She paused, chewing on her lip as she read. She didn't want to think about this. Emotions were too messy and distracting. They got in the way of her life and she simply didn't have time for them. She had to text back, to say something that would land them firmly in friend territory, even if she had-

Nearby, church bells rang, signaling the half-hour. She only had 30 minutes to make it across town in time for rehearsal. If she was late Malfoy would bitch for no less than twenty minutes about professionalism and McGonagall's lips would pull into that tight little frown she got when she was disappointed. Hermione hated that frown.

She swore and took off toward the subway at a run, the weekend crowd surged around her as she shouldered her way through the masses. Hermione was so desperate to catch the next train she slipped her phone into her bag and promptly forgot about it.

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Hermione was removing the last of the gnomes from the wall. In an absolutely unsurprising move, Tonks had changed her mind after two weeks of the gnomes and had changed the aesthetic to a haunted forest. An interesting choice for early February but Hermione was not paid for her opinion.

The welcome bell rang, and she turned to her newest customer, her arms filled with tiny short men.

"Welcome to the- oh! Hello Fred."

She set the gnomes on the counter much to the redhead's amusement.

"Wrong. I'm George. Desperate to get your hands on a man, Hermione?"

Hermione paused, glancing back at the one half of twin in front of her. Her eyes roved over his body strictly more than necessary, taking in his thick work boots and the way his hands were tucked in his dark jeans. She was almost grateful for that fact, his fingers had played far too much of a starring role in her dreams lately.

She finished her perusal with a critical hand on her chin. He was wearing that same leather jacket that had been wrapped around her at the party and the memory sent a sharp stab through her heart before she could shake it away. Her eyes skipped over his chest and long arms before coming to rest on the unnotched ear.

"Nope, definitely Fred."

"Well believe what you want but I am George." He shrugged as if he wasn't bothered but she could just see the way his fingers twitched in his pockets as he lied.

"Sure. Well, what can I get for you then George ."

"The usual," he muttered, leaning on the counter. "One for Fred too, since I am the generous twin."

"Mmm-hmm. Get paid last night?"

"Feast now, famine later."

She completed the two drinks slowly, using more care than was strictly necessary to make sure they were just right. A vanilla latte for Fred and a Chai Latte for George. She made small talk with him, referencing conversations that she never had with either twin and smiling to herself as he nodded along.

"How's the band?"

"Good good. Been busy. Booked a show this Saturday at The Lion's Head so we're making real musician money."

"So barely scraping by then?" Hermione said.

"Yup."

"I see. And how is your brother?"

"As well as can be. Devilishly handsome and thrown into his music with a passion that rivals the most inspired composer that has ever lived. How sweet of you to ask after him." He preened a bit more over it than George would have.

Hermione just hummed as he paid, adding a lid to both cups. She waited until he wasn't looking and swapped the drinks, marking them with the opposite name. He thanked her and left without taking a sip of 'George's' drink. While she didn't usually text during work she whipped out her phone and sent the show details to Theo, feeling like a great friend to both parties. It was approximately two minute later when Fred came back sputtering.

"Hermione, you messed up my drink!"

"Did I?" she questioned in faux innocence.

"Yes! It tastes like Christmas!"

"That would be George's chai latte, which was in the 'Fred' cup. Since you were calling yourself George, I figured you still wanted your vanilla latte under his name."

"Jesus! How do you do that?" he groaned, taking a cautious sip of his proper drink. He all but melted in satisfaction as he tried to glare at her.

"And give up my secret? Never."

"You knew it was me the whole time!" he whined.

"I told you that at the start!"

He laughed and shook his head. After a moment they settled into an awkward silence. Hermione found her self scratching at the chipping paint of gnome on the counter, just so she would have something to do.

"Not to be clingy or uncool but...Did you get my text?" Fred asked.

She remembered the text two days later when flipping through her phone on a break. It felt like way too long had passed to respond so she just kept ignoring it. Apparently, that wasn't going to work.

"I did. Thanks for checking in. I was just running late for rehearsal that morning so I forgot to respond."

Struck by the urge to move, she made herself busy cleaning out the espresso puck, smacking it against the trash can and watching it split apart. Hermione couldn't make herself look at him and it felt an awful lot like she was running away.

"Cool, I was just checking," he tried.

"Sure. I appreciate that."

They stood in silence and as Hermione cleaned the steam wand far past what was necessary.

"Well thanks for the coffee, even if you did try to poison me."

She laughed but didn't say anything else. There was a moment of hesitation before his footsteps headed toward the door. Hermione didn't look up from the machine until the next customer walked in ten minutes later.

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Hermione was begrudgingly dragging herself back from rehearsal. Her feet ached. Her back was sore. Malfoy had called her a troll no less than three times which did nothing for her self-esteem and to top things off, a nasty Nor'easter was supposed to blow in overnight so she had to fight the masses to make sure she was stocked enough to not starve.

She was stumbling home with a backpack of cheap microwaveable meals when she heard those soft keening notes again. Her brain told her to ignore it, to keep turning down her street and head home before the snow started. But as much as she told herself to do so, she still found her feet following the lonely notes of his playing.

This time she knew where she was going, wandering a familiar path back into the empty courtyard. The snow that had already fallen last night insulated the area, perfecting the acoustics. Just as last time she settled against the low wall, clearing a small area to sit.

She recognized the piece this time, understandable considering she had danced to it until her toes bled. The soft slow notes of 'A Pine Forest in Winter' drained into the courtyard. Hermione set down her bag as he played, his eyes closed as he focused on the music just as the first flakes started to fall.

Hermione ran through the choreography in her head waiting for the right note to pick up the steps before spinning into the courtyard. Her shoes weren't right and the snow made her slow and clumsy. She didn't have a partner and her hair was hiding most of her facial expressions. She slipped twice on the ice, nearly falling on her ass. Still, when she glanced up during a turn she saw him watching her, his eyes half-lidded as the strings sang.

She cut a path through the fresh snow, only marred by his footprints. Hermione spun and leaped with the careless abandon, smiling as the soft flakes settled in her hair and knowing that all the footsteps would be soon covered with snow as if she had never been there in the first place. By the time final notes trickled away, she was breathless and too warm in her coat, her muscles humming from the labor. When she looked up he was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"So that's how you catch a wild ballerina," he joked softly, his voice barely reaching her.

"You wouldn't want one of us for a pet. We are temperamental and tend to bite."

Fred laughed and she couldn't help but feel like it was even more beautiful of a sound than his music. She let her hands fall from her ending positions, brushing against her coat as her body settled.

"I didn't know you knew that one. It's not a typical concert piece."

"I didn't," he glanced at his bow before packing it away. "I learned it after watching you dance. I couldn't get it out of my head. It was... You were beautiful."

"You're sweet," she brushed off as she tried not to blush.

"Don't worry about it." He shook his head, leaning against the rusted railing. "Besides it was worth it to watch you dance like that, just for me."

There was a tinge of sadness to his smile. The light that was usually present didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, he stared at her, drinking her in like he didn't want to leave a drop for anyone else. Hermione bit her lip and shifted, suddenly aware of her oversized parka and baggy jeans.

She sighed, staring up at the redhead.

"Locked out again?"

Fred looked behind him as if he had forgotten why he was standing there in the first palace. When he turned back his usual grin was painted back into place.

"I have the most irresponsible roommates."

"I told-"

"Yeah yeah. Spare key. I'll get around to it at some point."

She glanced at the darkening sky. The flakes were falling faster now, fat and wet as they clung to her hair and skin.

"A big storm is coming."

"I tend to have the worst timing when it comes to getting locked out," he responded cheerfully.

"I apparently have the best timing for bailing you out."

"Why Miss Granger," He raised a scandalized hand to his chest. "-are you trying to take me home?"

"I should let you freeze," she snapped, instantly feeling silly. It was a terrible decision really.

He leaned forward against the railing a witty report on his lips just as the sound of creaking metal cut through the clearing. In the space of a moment, his eyes widened and the railing snapped.

Notes:

Nor'easter:

a storm along the East Coast of North America, so called because the winds over the coastal area are typically from the northeast. These storms may occur at any time of year but are most frequent and most violent between September and April. They dump snow and rain in vast amounts/

A Pine Forest in Winter:

The scene from the nutcracker when the nutcracker turns into a prince and dances through the forest with Clara.