A/N:I'm so sorry I'm late! I tried to make this extra long to make up for my extended absence. Don't worry, it's not abandoned. I know where the story is going even if I need prodding to actually get it on paper. I've actually gone through a barrage of different fandoms before ending up back in the HP verse. It went Doctor Who - Dead Like Me - Alice in Wonderland - Syfy's Alice - Criminal Minds - Firefly - Harry Potter. Strange business, but once I got started writing it was kind of hard to stop. I'm starting to get back into Supernatural now, but that shouldn't deter me from continuing to write for this verse. Hopefully I haven't lost all of you wonderful readers. You rock my socks for reading and reviewing. This was beta'd by the patient and mad Lament of Meow. Also I'm sorry for the numerous, drabble-like scenes. You could transfer it to document and it looks much better. Gorram fanfiction format!

Update: I am SO sorry for the typos. I swear to the PTB they weren't in the document. *glares suspiciously at fanfiction*

Disclaimer: Just playing in Rowling's sandbox.

Chapter Ten

"No, look—you got the character sequence wrong. Not by much, mind you, but this goes there—and it ends up looking like—voila!" Hermione's eagle quill skated across the parchment and performed an eloquent flourish before being placed back in the spotted inkwell.

Fred studied the mixture of Tranfiguration circles and Arithmancy symbols with growing appreciation, "This is brilliant, Hermione."

She smiled, "It's a complicated bit of magic, but it should be able to adapt itself to protect people from any kind of simple, dark spells." She stretched contentedly, working the stiff muscles in her back into compliance, and looked out the window. "What time is it?"

"Two."

She let out an indignant squawk, "In the morning!"

"Well, at least on this side of the planet." He met her glare with an innocent, wide-eyed smile.

"Why didn't you say something sooner? I missed dinner! Your mother's probably worried sick." Hermione muttered the last to herself, straightening up the various pieces of scribbled-on parchment strewn around the twin's flat. Then she noticed she was in the twin's flat. "When did we move up here?"

Fred smiled at her bewildered expression, "Right around seven when you were working on the fourth transfiguration diagram. Which is after I offered to make you a sandwich for dinner since you had no intention of leaving the shop until you were done. Which was followed by a brief floo conversation with my mum informing her of your scarily single-minded work ethic and when she may expect you back." Hermione stared at him, her cheeks turning pink as she began to remember their earlier conversation.

"Really?" Her voice squeaked a little and Fred couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. She defaulted to irritation, "Why didn't you kick me out earlier? Now I've taken up your whole evening and we only have a few hours before having to open the shop again!"

He stopped laughing and stared at her in disbelief, "You've taken up my whole evening? You just spent hours working up a brilliant formula to back up one of my mad ideas after your shift ended ages ago and you could have been doing mysterious, genius goddessy things at home!" His voice rose until he was almost shouting, and his face was flushing hot. Hermione was shocked not only by the intensity of his reaction but by the simple thoughtfulness behind his indignation.

She couldn't help herself—she giggled. Fred paused at the sound, looking at her trying to stifle her hilarity behind her hands, and let out a breathless chuckle. "Come on." He stood up, grabbed her hand and started pulling her along behind him.

"When I said 'kick me out' I didn't mean right this second," she joked as they descended into the darkened shop.

He rolled is eyes and kept tugging her forward, "What nonsense! You can't kick a goddess out. Have you ever walked around Diagon Alley at night?"

She frowned, "No, everything's closed."

"Exactly. It's completely deserted." He led her out of the shop, locking the door behind him with a flick of his wand.

There wasn't a soul in sight in either direction and all of the shop windows were dark. Hermione thought it would've been creepy if it weren't for the intense glow of the nearly full moon behind sparse cloud cover. She stared up for a moment at the constellations she recognized from Astronomy class before following the tug on her hand, still held warmly in Fred's.

"Where are we going?"

"Must we have a destination?" He set the pace at a leisurely walk, letting go of her hand and shoving his own in his pocket.

She narrowed her eyes, "I suppose not, but do you realize we could be trying to sleep?"

Fred scoffed, "Sleep! I once went a week without sleeping and I was fine."

"If I recall correctly, that was the morning you nearly drowned in your cereal, right?" She raised her eyebrows with a grin.

"Nearly drowned." He smiled when she laughed. "Besides, I thought since we're opening up in a few hours anyway, we might as well skip that boring sleeping bit and keep each other company." Hermione looked at him sharply, wondering if the innuendo was intentional. When he didn't show any awareness of his double entendre, she shook herself mentally, blaming the late hour for both her gutter-mind and her burning cheeks.

"So do you often sneak around Diagon Alley at night?"

Fred gave her a look of mock indignation, "I don't sneak…I meander."

"Ah. Well, do you often meander sneakily around Diagon Alley at night?"

He inhaled deeply as they passed Fortescue's, able to detect the scents of waffles and ice cream that hung around the closed shop like a ghost, "I do." He looked at her and smiled as she seemed to scrutinize him. "Don't believe me?"

"It just seems…uncharacteristically quiet of you to be wandering streets, under the stars. Uncharacteristically romantic," Hermione teased, staring up again at the sky and missing his look of incredulity. He didn't know why, but her assumptions about him stung a little.

Impulsively Fred caught her hand and used her momentum to pull her into him, placing his other hand on her waist and starting a waltz around the empty alley. She was shocked to find herself dancing with Fred, the same waltz Professor McGonagall had taught them for the Yule Ball. There was no music, no sound apart from the noise their feet made as they shuffled over the cobblestones. Neither of them spoke and Hermione observed this was the longest period of silence they had ever shared. She also noticed how fast her heart was beating and wondered dazedly if he could feel it, too.

They finished the dance and stood still, his left hand in her right and his other still on her waist. He hesitated for a split second before leaning in to whisper, "You should try studying people as closely as you do your books." Fred felt her wince and let her go.

Hermione felt vaguely ashamed of herself. She could barely look at him, but she forced herself to meet his eyes, "You're right. I'm sorry, Fred. That was very careless of me."

Fred waved away the apology with a smile, "It's not the first time assumptions have been made. Besides which, we were never very close at Hogwarts were we?"

She shook her head, "We never were. But we are now, so there's no excuse for my gross miscalculation of the depth of your character. You're very quiet and very swoon-worthy." Hermione smiled at him in apology, and he laughed.

"I'm glad you noticed." They began to walk again, this time the silence enjoyable. A few moments passed before he asked, "Swoon-worthy?"

"And where were you last night, brother dearest?" Fred grinned across the table at George.

"You're glowing," Hermione added sweetly, trying quite unsuccessfully to protect her last kipper from Fred's venturing fork.

All three of them sat in The Leaky Cauldron sharing a quick breakfast before opening up shop. Hermione and Fred had stayed awake all night walking around Diagon Alley and talking about anything that came to mind. Both of them were sporting tired eyes but were still somehow buzzing with pent up energy.

This didn't go unnoticed by George, despite his comfortable position on cloud nine, "A gentleman never kisses and tells, Gred."

Fred raised his eyebrows, "Then answer my question, Forge." Hermione snickered.

"Oh, well then, I was at Anne's." George blushed and grinned widely.

"Awww." Fred cooed, "I never would've guessed. You, Hermione?"

She smirked, "I wasn't at Anne's, Fred. What a silly question."

"Beg pardon, love, I wasn't thinking." He smiled at her, and George's eyes widened a fraction. There was no way—

"Where were you last night, Gred?" he asked, giving his twin an extra eyebrow twitch and flick of his eyes towards Hermione.

Fred raised his eyebrows at his brother's unspoken question, "Keeping Hermione company while she figured out the defensive magic problem."

"You solved it?" George was temporarily side-tracked and Hermione nodded proudly. "Well, brilliant! We can start testing then. Who's volunteering as the first subject?" Fred and Hermione both stared at George with eerily similar smiles. "Oh, that is not fair."

Hermione went back to the Burrow on her lunch break for sustinance and a change of clothes, which didn't go unnoticed by George. He cornered his brother immediately following her departure.

"Alright, brother dearest, what were you really doing last night with poor, innocent Hermione?"

Fred chucked, "Nothing sinister! She finished the spellwork around two or three in the morning and we spent the remaining hours walking around."

"Really?" George sounded skeptical, "Walking? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Fred rolled his eyes, "Honestly, mother, I haven't corrupted our dear employee. And since when have I ever looked at Hermione like…that, eh? She's Hermione!"

His brother made a warbling noise of disbelief, "I seem to recall an appraising glance or two at the Yule Ball."

"Oh, who wasn't looking!"

"This morning at breakfast?"

"There was no appraising of any sort this morning. Or any morning. Ever. At all." Fred folded his arms petulantly across his chest and his twin knew there would be no point arguing until his brother's hackles were down.

He held up his hands in surrender and Fred stared at him in suspicion before he started to make them roast beef sandwiches. George sat at the table, watching his brother's shoulders move from stiff and rigid to relaxed a few minutes later.

"Then there was that lovely dress she wore to Bill's wedding."

Hermione apparated to the Burrow, glad she had drunk those extra three cups of tea. She was feeling the dragging affects of an all-nighter but the caffeine was keeping her focused. She stepped into the kitchen and saw Ron was seated at the table munching on a sandwich. He glanced up sharply at her entrance, and wisely decided to keep his mouth shut—for about a minute.

"Where've you been?"

Hermione snagged a chicken sandwich from the platter on the table and bit into it with gusto. She chewed slowly, looking like she was pondering the answer, "Diagon Alley."

"What, all night?" He looked irritated. Well, that was too bloody bad. She continued to eat her sandwich and merely nodded, appearing unperturbed.

He studied her for a minute and frowned, "You haven't slept at all?" Hermione noticed his tone had changed from anger to concern, and she shook her head with a smile. "Aren't you tired?"

She finished her sandwich and just looked at him, "Of course."

Ron seemed to have some sort of internal struggle with himself before sighing. "Don't push yourself too hard, 'Mione. You do that too much."

Hermione moved around to his side of the table. When he looked up at her, she leaned in to kiss him, but instead of meeting his mouth her lips brushed his cheek. She wasn't sure if he had moved or if she had, but neither of them looked too surprised at the direction it took. She leaned forward to kiss his temple this time and felt something inside her break a little. His breathing hitched, but when she straightened up he gave her a small smile.

"I know. Thanks, Ron." She left the house in a hurry and apparated into a deserted London alley. She held her hand against the brick wall and sunk to her haunches; she stayed there until lunch break was over.

Fred wasn't sure what had happened in the last hour, but it wasn't anything good. In between helping customers, he watched his cashier's face when she thought no one was looking. There was definitely something wrong. He caught George's eye and beckoned him closer.

"Need you to take over for a mo'."

"What's up?"

Fred shook his head, "Not sure yet. Get Verity on the cash register." George looked from the serious expression on his twin's face to where his eyes rested on the pale witch behind the counter.

"Right."

With a grateful expression, Fred left his brother in charge and hurried over to Hermione. He grabbed her hand without preamble and dragged her into the back room. She thought it was almost appropriate that his actions mirrored those he had taken before, when she had fought with Ron about work a few weeks ago. She sat in one of the conjured bean bag chairs across from the concerned redhead.

Fred looked at her closely, "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" She echoed their earlier conversation with an ironic smile.

"That's not funny. What happened?" he pressed.

No jokes this time, eh? Hermione thought as she drew in a shaky breath, "My problems aren't your responsibility."

"That's bollocks and you know it."

"I may not be able to stop crying," she tried, her eyes starting to fill.

He had to swallow a couple of times before speaking, "Up to the flat then." He held her hand and apparated them both upstairs into the sitting room.

Hermione had to smile a bit at his consideration even as she sniffled. "I think…Ron and I just broke up."

Fred's eyes narrowed, already planning at least ten different punishments for his ridiculous little brother, "Okay, exactly how hexed does he need to be?"

She gave him a reprimanding look even as tears started to track down her cheeks, "It's nothing like that. It's just—you know it's kind of weird discussing this with his brother."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I'm not his brother right now. I'm your friend. Your girl-friend if you prefer." He batted his eyelashes at her, and she couldn't help giggling, "Just think of me as Ginny but with dashing good looks and a bigger chest. Don't tell her I said that."

Hermione gave a watery laugh, "It was just this sort of mutual goodbye. We'd been dancing around for years and when we finally get together, it turns out we are completely wrong for each other. Years of expectations, years of hoping, years of longing for the affection of someone it turns out isn't the right person?" A sob caught her by surprise and she clapped her hands over her mouth. Just as she predicted, once she started crying she couldn't stop. The tears kept pouring out and the sobs kept coming and the only thing she could do was try and quiet herself.

Fred wasn't sure what he could say to that. How do you remedy the accumulation of seven years worth of disappointment? He wasn't sure, but he thought he knew where to start. He tugged gently on her elbow, and when she moved closer he wrapped his arms around her. Hermione tucked her head into his neck and lost herself.

After Fred and Hermione hadn't appeared in an hour, George felt a bit apprehensive. He hoped nothing horrendous had happened, but at the same time, if they were just snogging in the back he would be slightly irritated—followed by extremely amused and vindicated. When the stream of customers thinned a bit, he peeked behind the curtain of the back room. They weren't there.

George frowned before his eyes drifted upward in the direction of their flat. He apparated into his own bedroom to muffle the sound of his entrance and opened the door into the sitting room. He grinned widely at the sight of his brother and Hermione sleeping soundly on the couch. His twin was stretched out comfortably, his arms wrapped around the brown-haired witch. Hermione rested on his chest, her head tucked under his chin. George ducked back into his room and snatched the camera resting on his dresser. He turned off the flashbulb and managed to snap a shot of the adorable, sleeping pair without waking them. This would be fuel for much taunting later.

Hermione woke feeling simultaneously exhausted and refreshed, and, for some reason, extremely warm and comfortable. Then she noticed she was moving ever so slightly up and down in sync with the sound of deep breathing. She heard a distinct thump, thump beneath her ear and remembered where she was. She had cried herself to sleep, apparently, and Fred had been kind enough to put up with it.

She raised her head to look at the man she was currently using as a pillow. Fred slept on unaware as she stared down at him, tracing the freckles across his face with her eyes. His words from last night floated to the front of her mind, You should try studying people as closely as you do your books. He was right—a day ago she would never have imagined Fred would hold her as she cried into his neck about his little brother. She never would've thought he'd notice the hurt behind her eyes as she pretended to be okay. She wouldn't have guessed he enjoyed a bit of quiet under the stars. And, above all, she wouldn't have believed that she'd be this interested in perusing the angles of his cheekbones or the curves of his lips, wouldn't have thought he smelled like a mix between cologne and the spicy-scented fireworks they sold in the shop. She wouldn't have thought she'd be so aware of all the places their bodies were currently touching, feeling the solidity of Quiddich muscles under her breasts, her abdomen, her thighs. Sweet Merlin, she needed to get a grip.

Hermione looked behind her and noticed a blanket was draped over the both of them. She blushed and knew they would both be getting cheeky remarks from George for the next few…years. She looked at her watch. They had been sleeping for five hours and George would be closing the shop soon. She debated with herself on whether she should wake Fred and get back to work or go back to sleep. Well, customers would be thinning out by now, and George and Verity were apparently doing fine without them. Her cheeks grew pinker as she realized her decision was already made. Hermione laid her head back on his chest and shut her eyes with a sigh. For just a little while longer, just a little longer.

A/N: I hope I managed to either make you smile or squee. Reviews are love. Even if I rarely deserve them. ^_^;