Chapter 12

July 16th 1999

Language

It was silent as she stepped out of the floo in Fred's flat and, as far as she could see, there were no lights on either. Hermione frowned, pulling her wand from her sleeve and casting a tempus charm to discern whether she had shown up early, although realistically she was sure that she hadn't and she was right, the charm told her it was only 7:01. With a sigh, she slipped her wand back up her sleeve and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to decide whether she should stay and wait for him or if she should simply leave. For all she knew, he had been held up downstairs and wouldn't be coming for hours, but the last thing she was going to do was go down and check if he was there. She might bump into George if she did that, or worse, anyone else from the Weasley family. At least George looked like the one member of the family she would now consider herself a little bit comfortable around. She slowly turned back to the fireplace and considered what her evening looked like if she wasn't here and the thought of yet another night alone in her flat made her groan as she turned back to the room and slipped her shoes off of her feet to wait for him to arrive, if he ever did. Maybe if he wasn't here within half an hour she would leave.

In an effort to occupy her mind and kill some time, she moved towards the opposite wall and began slowly eyeing the books that lined the shelves. There were a large number of books that focused on Charm Theory, some of which she also had on her bookshelves at home and she smiled softly to herself at the thought of Fred holed up in some corner of this flat, his nose in a book as he tried to figure out the minute details of a new product his mind had conceived. Even back in their school days, she had known that while the twins may not have been what their professors would typically consider 'academically gifted', they were both extremely clever and driven and it showed in every single one of their invented products. Hell, even back in Hermione's fourth year they had been helping their fellow students duck out of classes with their Skiving Snackboxes; at least that had been the first time Hermione had become aware of them. Back then she had been horrified at the idea of intentionally ditching lessons but now she looked back, it was honestly an incredible display of their magical abilities. Briefly, she wondered what it would have been like if she'd paid more attention to their prototypes back then, she was positive that even she could have learned a thing or two from the cheeky twins.

Continuing forwards, she frowned as she came to the place in the wall where she knew the hidden door to be. Inside her, something sparked and she found herself unusually intrigued by the secrets held behind the separator, but she swallowed down the feeling and shook her head as she forced herself to imagine how she would feel if someone snooped around her flat. Deciding she would rightfully be horrified at the discovery, she sighed as she forced herself to simply browse the books and was shocked when she spotted, down on the bottom shelf, some Muggle books that she had never expected him to even have heard of let alone own. Crouching down to get a better look, wincing when her knees cracked at the movement, she reached out and ran her fingers along the spines. Some of them were well cracked and worn, showing either age or favouritism, but some looked like they'd never been opened. The ones with cracked spines seemed to be of one genre - Fantasy. She snorted as she pulled one out, The Hobbit, and flipped it open to a random page. She was amused to find that there were annotations in the margins; Apparently Fred had been making comparisons between the Muggle fictional portrayal of magic and the one they both knew as reality. Intrigued by what his mind had come up with, she pushed herself to her feet and crossed to the sofa, sitting herself down and pulling her feet up beneath her as she got comfortable. She became so engrossed as she flicked through the book and read his notes that she didn't hear him come in through the front door, or see him smile at the sight of her.

"Comfortable?" he said suddenly and Hermione was so startled that she screamed and threw the book at him, causing him to laugh loudly as he ducked and it hit the door behind him before falling to the floor, "hello to you too!"

"Sorry!" she gasped, eyes wide with shock as her hands came up to cover her mouth, "I didn't hear you come in!"

"I didn't realise I needed to knock on my own door," he chuckled and she groaned, covering her face in shame at her actions while he kicked off his own shoes and walked into the kitchen, his voice carrying into the living room as he continued, "don't worry, Hermione, my face is lovely as ever. No harm done. You might want to apologise to my book, though."

Wincing, Hermione pulled herself from the sofa and quickly walked to the door, bending down and picking up the book. When Fred emerged from the kitchen carrying two plates in one hand and a bag of what she assumed to be takeaway in the other hand, he found her stroking the front cover and rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean…" he started, smiling when she turned to look at him with a frown on her face, "you know what? I'm not even entirely surprised that you're actually apologising to the book."

"Books are…"

"Precious, yeah I know." he smirked, gesturing for her to return to the sofa while he pulled boxes from the bag and placed them on the coffee table, "glad to see you made yourself at home. I'm sorry I was late, Mum kept me talking."

"Molly?" Hermione gasped, freezing in place as she hovered over the sofa and panic welled up within her slightly, "does she know I'm here?"

"Don't worry," he said, briefly looking at her over the table and smiling reassuringly, "I didn't want a repeat of last time, so I went home to get some food. She always cooks too much and I usually stock up on leftovers."

Hermione nodded, gulping down her anxiety as she allowed herself to fall back onto the sofa. She winced as her hips cracked, something which Fred evidently heard as his head snapped to look at her, his eyes filled with concern. She smiled at him, letting him know that she was okay, before he went back to arranging the food in front of her. She watched as he carefully made sure they were all straight, lining them up very particularly, before leaning over and putting a plate in front of her and then sitting down in the armchair.

"Wasn't sure what you'd want, so I got a bit of everything," he started, leaning to the left slightly in order to retrieve his wand from his belt loop as he spoke, "we have the usuals; cottage pie, roast beef, roast chicken and some pumpkin soup."

As he said the name of each dish, he flicked his wand and caused the lids to vanish, sending a heady mix of smells into the air as the steam rose from within the separate containers. Hermione breathed deeply and was reminded of their mealtimes in Hogwarts, when all of the aromas would mingle together in the air almost as though they were conspiring to make the students impossibly hungry.

"But we also have Thai prawn curry, bombay potatoes, chicken chow mein and some beef tacos." he continued and when all of the containers were open, Hermione turned to Fred as she furrowed her brow.

"Molly cooked all of this?" she asked, stunned when Fred nodded, a warm and pride filled smile lighting up his face, "since when does your Mum cook muggle recipes?"

"She forced Dad to buy her some muggle cookbooks," he shrugged nonchalantly, picking up his plate and beginning to serve himself some roast beef, "I think she got bored of the normal recipes. George and Gin are still trying to convince her to write a cookbook, they think the wizarding world could do with a, and I quote, 'culinary revolution'."

"I mean, they're not wrong," she muttered, nodding as she eyed the food in front of her and wondering where to even start and she heard him snort in agreement, "I always missed chinese food when I was at Hogwarts. Begged my parents to get a takeaway every time I went home for the holidays."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking over at her with a hopeful look in his eyes that told Hermione he was waiting for her to elaborate but when she simply shook her head, he nodded in understanding that she wasn't ready to do so, "try the chow mein, it's good."

She smiled hesitantly and leaned forward, picking up the container of chow mein and using her fork to pull some out and onto her plate. The noodles were golden and moist and the chicken looked soft and perfectly cooked, mixed in with what appeared to be thinly sliced pieces of spring onion and shredded carrots. The sauce was thick and the smell filled her nostrils when the steam reached her face, making her stomach gurgle expectantly. Once she'd replaced the container, she shuffled back in her seat and put the plate on her lap as she dove her fork into her small portion. Making sure that she spun her fork in order to keep the noodles from slipping off of it, she lifted it to her mouth and closed her lips around the fork. Her eyes widened as she tasted it for the first time, turning to Fred and covering her mouth with her hand to conceal her chewing.

"Told you so." he grinned, eyes twinkling as she nodded excitedly before going back to her food.

Much to the surprise of both of them, Hermione wasn't finished when her plate was empty the first time and she went back for seconds. They didn't talk as they ate, something which Hermione was glad of, but she did enjoy the peaceful atmosphere that descended over them. Far from feeling awkward, sitting there filling herself with chow mein while he relaxed in his chair, she felt comfortable; far more than she could remember feeling for a long time. While she was here, she could momentarily push aside the darkness that had surrounded her for so long, for so long as he allowed her to at any rate. She knew that at some point she would be forced to provide answers for all of his questions, whether by him or by her own conscience, but for now she allowed herself to feel some comfort. Once they had finished eating, he took her plate while she began to gather up the containers and move them one by one into the kitchen, placing them on his worktop before returning to the living room and perching on the edge of the sofa. She glanced over at him when he sat down, waiting for him to speak and smiled slightly at him when he looked back at her.

"So… How was your week?" she asked after a little too long was spent in silence; at least while they were eating, there was an excuse to not talk as their mouths were otherwise occupied.

He went on to tell her about what had happened in the shop and with his family that week, amusing her with his descriptions of the next round of obviously muggleborn first years experiencing the havoc that was Wheezes for the first time. She reminded him that even during her first visit, when she had been fifteen, she had found it overwhelming and he made her laugh when he muttered that he found it the same even now and he owned the place. She returned the favour by telling him about her own week, going into detail about a newly arranged trip for Kingsley to visit the German Ministry that she was dreading researching, considering she didn't speak a word of German. She was astonished when he offered to help her translate it magically, having long perfected the translating charm that she hadn't known existed. She kicked herself mentally for being unaware of such a thing, but he reassured that he didn't mind helping her and said she could bring her books the following week. They talked quietly for another few minutes before she slipped her feet back into her shoes and left, returning to her own flat and finding that, rather than feeling relieved to be home, she was sad that the evening was over.