Fred smiled politely to the customers who recognised him as he limped as fast as he could to Florish and Botts. He knew Hermione would be feeling awful and nothing cheered her up as much as a new book. He should know. During the length of their unusual friendship Fred had put his proverbial foot in it more then once. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes accidentally but always utterly and completely. So he'd figured out long ago what worked and what didn't. She wasn't moved by flowers, chocolates or pretty baubles. Nice dinners and fancy desserts didn't move her. But offer her a book wrapped in plain brown paper and, if it was the right book, she would fall at your feet. He didn't think it would cheer her up any this time, but it would make her smile, if only for a moment and that was worth this hurried trip before going to see her.

He scanned the new arrivals shelves, quickly selecting one he thought she would like and lined up behind the only other customer. It took him a moment standing behind her before he realised his destination was actually right in front of him.

"Hermione?"

Hermione squealed and turned on the spot until she came face to face with Fred. Her face showed horror for a split second before she registered who it was standing in front of her. Then her face crumpled and tears quickly filled her already red-rimmed eyes.

"Oh, Fred. I was such an idiot," she stated before falling against his chest. Fred enveloped her in his arms and tried to pay attention as the elderly witch behind the counter bagged their purchases, promising to put them on their individual accounts. Fred smiled tightly, not wanting to be rude all the while Hermione wept into his robes. He'd never seen her lose control like this. It almost scared him. He was eventually able to escape the shop and guided her out onto the street.

"I - I thought some reading would take my mind off it." Hermione hiccupped, oblivious to the curious looks they were receiving. "You've spoken to him, I guess. I'm so embarrassed."

Fred led her to a small, out of the way café at the end of Diagon Alley all the while mentally cursing his brother, his injuries and life itself. They used to come here often but hadn't been here since the year before. While Hermione wept, relaying her meeting with his brother through her tears Fred contemplated the complete injustice of it all.

There was nothing he wouldn't give to be able to give a child to Hermione. He loved her so much. Sometimes he thought it was romantic but at the end of the day he knew it wasn't. She was just the best friend he'd ever had, second only to his twin.

It all came back to the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione was the one who had found him, crushed beneath the rubble they thought had killed him. She was the one who had worked frantically over his body, drawing on every last healing spell in her memory until help came. He would forever remember awaking, sight and hearing slowly returning, to Hermione hovering over him. In his nightmares he could still hear her screaming for help, begging for someone to find a Healer. He owed her his life and his impotence. As brilliant as she was, her medical knowledge was limited and her crude spells kept him alive and began the healing process. A process that couldn't be reversed and consequently led to his weak muscles in his left leg and the inability to maintain an erection.

But without Hermione he'd be dead. It was a simple as that. He couldn't be angry with her, though in the beginning Merlin knew he'd tried. He'd wanted to be angry at her, angry that she hadn't known more, done better. But when he'd raved at her, she'd simply raved back. When he'd refused to let his mother in to nurse him, she'd simple brought down his wards and stomped all over his objections. She'd been through hell too and downright refused to let him be anything but grateful. Their friendship had grown, bloomed until they were nearly inseparable. Hermione had begged Fred to let her take him to a Muggle doctor but he'd refused. He couldn't see how Hermione's science could fix something magic couldn't.

His attention was dragged fully back to the present as the waitress approached. A pretty blonde witch in her early twenties, she'd been the star of more then one inappropriate dream and Fred suddenly remembered why he hadn't been here in nearly a year. There was nothing like seeing the object of your fantasies every other day when there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

She smiled sympathetically at them and asked if they'd like their usual order.

"Two Turkish coffees and half a dozen almond cookies?" she asked, giving Fred a flirty smile. He nodded and she hurried off to start the long brewing process for the coffees.

"I've completely mucked everything up," Hermione said, drawing his gaze back to her. "What was I thinking? Apparently I was determined to be a complete dickhead." She whispered this last word, eliciting a small smile from Fred.

"You weren't a dickhead," he whispered, nudging her knee with his, earning a watery smile in return. "But I think you should have your head checked. George? What were you thinking, Hermione? This choice, of all of them, you should have talked to me about."

"I know, I just made the choice, owled him and then refused to think about it for the last couple of days." She sighed heavily, her chin trembling, her eyes darting around, looking for witnesses to her humiliation. "I want this so bad, Fred and he seemed …"

"To be the answer for what I can't give you?" When she'd first confessed her plans to Fred and let him see her folder of candidates, she'd hurriedly ripped one out as they were going through it. She'd tossed it in the bin but when she'd gone to the bathroom later in the night, he'd fished it out, being a terrible friend in the process. What he'd seen had broken his heart. He'd thought the missing profile might have been Harry or one of his brothers but it wasn't. It was his. His pro list was by far longer then any of the other's she'd composed.

Now, Hermione opened her mouth to deny him, but her blush was telling.

"No, yes, I don't know. Not just you, I mean George in his own right had a pretty impressive pro list. He's you but he's his own person and he's not my best mate. I know you found my list for you but even if I hadn't castrated you I could never had asked that of you." Hermione had no problem taking about his problem and usually it didn't bother him but he was feeling pretty sensitive to it since she started her baby crusade, today especially. His pride was wounded.

Hermione buried her face in her hands and groaned.

"I'm so confused, Fred. I've stuffed everything up so badly. He's going to hate me forever."

Shaking off his own hurt, Fred belatedly fished out his handkerchief and offered it to Hermione.

"Not forever and he doesn't hate you. Its not even about you, it's just brought all the Lavender shit up again."

Hermione's stricken look was very telling.

"Oh, God. I didn't even think of that. I'm a complete moron. Take me to Saint Mungo's, please, I obviously need an assessment."

She rose and Fred laughed, pulling her back to her seat.

"Stop. You went about this completely backwards but trust me, I know my brother and this is all completely salvageable. He doesn't take unexpected news well. He just needs a couple of days to adjust and then we can start."

She blew her nose noisily and sighed wearily. "Start what?"

"Our campaign to get George into your bed."

Hermione blushed. "I don't want him in my bed. I want his sperm in my egg."

"Gross." He loved Hermione but that was too much information. "But whatever. We'll get him."

"No, just forget it, Fred. Please? Just don't mention it again," Hermione begged him. He nodded but his mind was already speeding ahead, making plans, composing conversation. He couldn't give Hermione a baby himself, but if there was a chance he could set this up for her, he would. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed right that his brother and his best friend be together. They were complete opposites but both completely brilliant. They would challenge each other, never tire of the other.

Hermione could deny it all she wanted but there were five blokes he could think of off the top of his head that would make a better father then George, as much as he loved him and there was a reason she had chosen him. And he had a sneaking suspicion just what that reason was. Maybe Fred's list was never actually about Fred. Maybe it was always about George.