I sat at the desk in the back room trying fruitlessly to balance the books. I just couldn't seem to concentrate no matter how I tried. The numbers that ran down the columns danced around my brain in a jumbled mess. I glanced down at the parchment to my right. Another futile attempt to concentrate. Although it was the thing my mind couldn't escape, the words just escaping me.
Sept. 19, 2000
Dear Hermione,
Happy Birthday! I
That was as far as I got. She wanted to know who I was. But I was so worried that she would be disappointed. She might even get angry if she knew it was me.
"Hey Fred?" George called. "Do we have any more boxes of Whiz-bangs?"
"Basic or Deluxe?" I shouted back.
"Basic," he answered.
"The cupboard under the Edible Dark Marks," I responded.
"Thanks!"
I looked to the corner of the desk where a neatly wrapped purple gift sat, tied with a prim purple bow. It was a book, of course. I picked out a lovely leather picture album and filled every page with memories or our days at Hogwarts, mostly of pictures of her, Harry, and Ron. But there were also pictures of the many celebrations in the Gryffindor common room, the D.A., Christmas and Easter holidays at The Burrow, and even of our time at Grimmauld Place. But I still couldn't decide if I should give it to her in person, or just attach it to an owl.
My gaze traveled from the gift to the opened envelope marked 'Anon.' I'd read it several times over the last few days. I reached for it once more.
"Hey Fred," George called again, this time he popped his head in the door. "Did that guy, Dagworth, ever pay off his balance?"
"No," I answered. "Don't sell him anything more until it's paid."
"Got it." He quickly returned to the store.
How did he ever expect me to do the books when he kept interrupting? Not that I was actually doing the book work… I reread the letter.
Sept. 15, 2000
Dear Friend,
I understand your apprehension about revealing who you are. I too enjoy our correspondence. I've never felt so free to be myself. You've accepted me in ways that I never thought anyone could. I find myself waiting anxiously for each letter you send. But our friendship still feels a little empty. You know so much about me and I haven't a clue who you are. I want to be able to know you as well as you've come to know me.
I know you're nervous, but I must know who you are. Perhaps a letter isn't the place. Why don't you choose a date and we'll meet for ice cream at Florean's?
Your Friend,
Hermione Granger
I could just picture it. Me sitting at Florean's while she looks around for some prince charming. She finds out it's me and starts yelling for interfering and reading her journal entry. I knew that she liked me, and I'd always liked her too, but never have we considered each other good friends, just friends through Ron.
"Hey Fred!" George yelled.
I huffed in frustration as George yelled from again from the front of the store.
"Did you fill that ministry order for Ron?"
"Yes!" I yelled back. I didn't know why that was so important at the moment. Ron owled saying that he and Harry caught their man and were coming home, but that wasn't for two more days.
I placed the letter back on the table and heard the door swing open.
"What, George?!" I swiveled my chair to glare at my twin only to see that it wasn't him. "Oh, Hermione. I'm sorry."
She chuckled. "I'm here to pick up that ministry order for Ron. George said you had it ready?"
"Uh, yeah." I stood up and started shifting through the boxes stacked against the wall.
Hermione gasped quietly. "Fred?"
I turned around, my hands still up in the air holding a small box that I had been shifting to the side. I followed her gaze to the desk and panicked.
"You're… you're 'Anon'?" Her eyes were locked on the unfinished letter and the envelope she had addressed.
She glanced up at me and our eyes met. I was frozen. I couldn't think of a single thing to do or say. This wasn't any of the ways I was planning on revealing myself. I just waited. Waited for her to do or say something more.
"Oh, Fred!" I was completely stunned as she leapt against me, her arms flew around my neck. She stood on her tip-toes but I was still pulled down slightly to her height. The box I was holding had crashed to the floor and the shoes that were in it began walking across the floor on their own accord. My mind finally seemed to unfreeze and I wrapped my arms around her waist. Her body trembled and I felt her silent tears on my neck.
"I can't believe it's you." She pulled away and looked back into my eyes. She gently brushed the tears off of her soft pink cheeks and smiled bashfully. She looked as if she were glowing.
I smiled warmly and brushed her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."
Fin!
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