Chapter Title: 5 - Apologies
Characters: Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley, Sirius Black
Description: Set during OotP. After unintentionally implying that his friendship with Hermione was only due to obligation, Fred Weasley begins his quest to earn her forgiveness.
Word Count: 2,503
Date Published: 2/6/2014
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Winter break was ending at 12 Grimmauld Place. Ever since the disastrous Christmas Day row with Fred, Hermione Granger had done her utmost best to avoid the twins.
Either. Both. It didn't matter anymore.
In the days following their late night argument in the library, Hermione had proven herself to be exceptionally gifted at avoiding Fred, and not at all reluctant to hex him on the few occasions he did manage to corner her. She'd even gone so far as to set wards around her bed at night after Fred had made an attempt to use her sleep-addled brain to force her to speak with him. He'd left quite quickly, attempting to stymie the sardines dripping from his nose, a hex Hermione had picked up her first year from Hagrid after Ron's slug vomiting incident.
Despite all her best efforts, on the last day of the winter holidays Hermione found herself seated next to Fred at the dinner table, Harry between Fred and George, and Sirius across from her, shooting her poorly hidden looks of bemusement over the lip of his tumbler. Hermione glared down at her mashed parsnips to avoid any and all eye contact. Her lips were set in a thin line and she kept slowly easing away from Fred, even as he seemed to be pressing further and further into her space.
Undaunted, Fred whispered to her throughout the meal as they passed around dishes. His head was tilted down and toward her, hiding his moving lips.
"Hermione."
She stiffened and turned her head away from him. Hermione could feel his eye roll and scowled harder.
"I know you can hear me, Hermione."
She sniffed, piercing her meat furiously with her fork.
"I'm truly sorry, you know. About all of it."
Bringing the bite to her lips, she accidently caught Sirius' eye. He smirked and winked at her causing her to blush furiously.
Seemingly unaware of his audience, Fred continued. "I didn't mean any of it, Hermione. Honest." She started when she felt something drop into her lap under the table. "Would you read it?"
Glancing down, Hermione found a folded bit of parchment covered in Fred's messy scroll. She snorted and rolled her eyes before scanning the table for a friendly face. Leaning forward and away from Fred, she caught Molly Weasley's eye.
"Dinner's been wonderful, Mrs Weasely. How do you make the beans taste so buttery?"
Smiling broadly at the praise, Mrs Weasely launched into a detailed and long-winded explanation about cooking spells. Sighing heavily, Fred leaned frustratedly back in his seat. Running a large hand through his bright hair, he caught sight of Sirius whose shoulders were bouncing in silent amusement, gray eyes glittering. Fred scowled at the older wizard. Turning away his attention to the plate before him, Fred casually dropped his hand down into his lap. He eased his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand, accidentally josling Hermione. She turned to him, alarmed, eyes dropping down to see what had bumped her side. Head snapping up to Fred's innocent mask, she was just about to demand to know what he was doing when Sirius lept from the bench with a howl, rubbing at his inner thigh where the stinging hex had hit.
The table erupted into confused chatter and questions. Focused on Sirius' accusing glare and brush-off of Molly's inquiries, Fred nearly missed the small snort of amusement to his right. Fred dropped his head smiling smugly to himself.
Dinner ended not long after. Hermione leapt from her spot to rush her dishes to the sink and out the kitchen door. Eager to see if she would read his note, Fred followed her out and to the drawing room. He stopped just outside the door and watched her intently.
Hermione stood, shoulders hunched, facing the sputtering fire of the drawing room. With almost tender reverence, she fingered the note in her hand tracing along the script that seemed to cover the entire parchment. She sighed heavily before stealing her shoulders and throwing the note into the fire. Turning, Hermione started violently when she noticed Fred in the door. Their eyes locked a long moment, sad hazel eyes to anxious, almost guilty brown before Hermione's gaze became a scowl. She turned up her pert nose, crossed her arms defiantly, and stomped from the room, thumping Fred's shoulder as she went.
Rubbing the back of his neck in frustration, Fred groaned. "Well, shite."
He winced as a hard hand clapped him on the back. Sirius grinned at him, baring his teeth. "Not giving up yet, are you, mate?" he asked, sarcasm dripping through his tone. He eyed Fred calculatingly.
Fred glared back. "Not hardly."
Sirius' grin widened, his grip tightening painfully on Fred's shoulder. "Good. She's a good girl. Deserves… well, a better friend than you," he drawled.
Snorting, Fred shrugged his hand off. He turned toward the older wizard, his expression one of innocent curiosity. "How's the thigh, Sirius?"
The grin on Sirius' lined face dropped into a sneer and he jabbed an accusing finger in Fred's chest. "Hex me again, pup, and I'll have your bollocks."
A large, wicked grin spread across the red-heads face and he winked at the older wizard. "Why Sirius. Didn't know I was your type."
Sirius grinned to match his own. "Don't you wish. You're not nearly pretty enough for me, Red."
Mock hurt flashed across Fred's face. He pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes shining. "Oh, that's right," he whispered, forcing his voice to crack. "You like werewolves."
Dark gray eyes widened. Sirius took a step forward to swat at the younger wizard but Fred, anticipating the small delay, had already ducked around the dark-haired man and was running away down the hall. He raced up the stairs to the room he shared with George, slamming the door behind him, booming laughter drowned out by the screeches of the portrait of Walburga Black.
Hermione stalked through the halls of Hogwarts a week after the end of break. She was annoyed. It seemed everywhere she turned, there was Fred; racing down the halls with George or Lee hot on his heels, boisterous and hollering in the common room over a game of exploding snaps, or, worst of all, sneaking furtive glances down the table at her during meals.
And as if that wasn't enough, ever since they returned to Hogwarts, she'd been finding random bits of parchment in between the pages of her textbooks, in the pockets of her robes and bag, once even in the filling of her treacle tart. Each and every scrap had the same handwritten note. 'I'm sorry.'
So she was annoyed, with Fred, true, but mostly with herself. Because try as she might to convince herself otherwise, the truth of the matter was she wanted to believe him. She would even go so far as to say she missed him. Missed talking to him late at night in the common room after everyone else had retired. Missed how he always seemed able to make her laugh. Missed how he had always seemed genuinely interested in getting to know the girl behind the book.
But no, she told herself furiously. That was what caused this, wasn't it? Despite everything, despite all of it, he thought she was annoying, a swot. Anger and hurt stabbed through her chest, radiating through the palms of her hands, and burning her eyes every time she thought about him saying she was just an obligation. Suggesting he wouldn't have been her friend otherwise. And for the life of her, Hermione could not figure out why Fred's betrayal hurt so much worse than any of Ron's.
It was with these thoughts swirling in her head that she trudge down the corridor on her way to the library, eyes focused on the floor, book hugged tightly to her chest.
Suddenly, a hand flashed out, gripping her arm and yanking her behind a tapestry into a hidden alcove. She squealed in fright but recovered quickly, dropping her book to the ground as she snatched her wand into her hand. Hermione blinked as she realized the tip of her wand was pressed tightly to a familiar neck. Glancing up and catching a shock of red hair, she snarled and pressed her wand harder to the bobbing adams-apple.
Fred held up his hands placatingly, wide eyes swimming with trepidation. "Whoa, nice reflexes there, Hermione. But as tempting as I'm sure it is, I really rather you didn't hex me. Again," he muttered, reaching up to push away her wand, but stopped when Hermione growled.
Hermione sneered at him, a face he was seeing more and more from his ex-best friend. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't, Weasely," she sneered, brown eyes flashing anger like a life preserver. She couldn't stand the thought that he would see how much he'd hurt her.
"Aw, come on, Hermione. It's me."
A bitter smile lit her lips. "And which one were you again?"
Fred flushed violently, swallowing hard and dropping his gaze. "I said I was sorry," he said softly to the floor between their feet.
"And I told you I don't need your charity."
His gaze snapped back up to hers, his expression fierce. "I know I mess up. I know I said some bloody stupid things, but don't you ever for a second think my friendship with you was anything less than genuine."
Blinking away tears, Hermione turned quickly away from him, pocketing her wand. She kept her head down using her mane of hair to hide the emotion on her face.
Undeterred, Fred continued. "I care for you, Hermione," he whispered, his hand brushing up her arm. "Just as much as I care for George. I'm so sorry I said what I did, but you have to know I didn't mean any of it. Not even a little bit."
He looked down, disheartened. "I was angry. And that's no excuse for how I acted or what I said, but I promise it won't ever happen again. I'm sorry I hurt you, but please. Let me try to make it up to you." He watched her for long moments before she lifted her eyes to frown at him.
He sighed. "Here." Fred shoved a wrapped parcel into her hands before shoving his deep into his pockets and rocking back anxiously on his heels.
Hermione held the parcel gingerly, eyeing him and it warily. "What is it?"
Fred snorted and his shoulders hunched up nervously even as his ears reddened. "It's something I've been working on. To show you I'm sorry."
Her eyes held his a moment more before she finally dropped her gaze to the parcel in her hand. Hermione opened it slowly revealing a slim, leather bound journal no bigger than her hand. She looked up at him questioningly. "A book?" She cracked it open and flipped through a few pages. "An empty book."
Fred smirked. "It's a journal." He held up a matching book. "This is it's mate."
She stared back and forth between the books then back up to him.
"It's a way to communicate, sort of like your fake galleons."
Nodding absentmindedly, she turned the book over in her hands. "So you used a Protean Charm?"
"That and several others. I charmed it so we'll never run out of pages, and should it ever fall into someone else's hands, the writing will rearrange itself into indecipherable text."
At that, her head snapped up to him, her brown eyes narrowed. "You invented this? How does it work?"
Visibly relieved at her reaction, Fred waved his book at her excitedly. "Can't really claim to have invented it. You can buy them at Flourish & Blotts, but George and I figure why do that when we can make it better ourselves."
Her nose wrinkled. "Right."
Taking a step closer so her could point over her shoulder, Fred drew his wand and demonstrated. "After writing something, tap the page with your wand three times, and the words show up in it's mate. My book will vibrate slightly to let me know you've written until open it. Here, let me show you."
Pulling out a self-inking quill, Fred jotted a hasty note into his journal, tapped the page three times, and the small book in Hermione's hands began to vibrate insistently. She opened it to reveal the words 'I miss you, Hermione.'
Blushing furiously, Hermione stared hard at the floor. "Why a book?"
Nervous again, Fred replied in a small voice. "I'm relying on your deeply ingrained love of books to prevent you from destroying it."
Hurt flashed across her face. Hermione looked down sadly at the journal in her hands. "So you thought you'd use my bookish nature against me?"
"No! No, of course not. That isn't… I just… bugger." Fred ran a hand through his hair, pulling slightly in frustration. Head hanging in defeat, he sighed. "I just thought you'd like it."
Hermione studied him a moment before putting her hand on his arm. Starting, Fred's head snapped to her hand then up to her face in obvious question.
She frowned at him but continued to grip him. "It… it is rather brilliant, Fred."
Fred's face burned at the unexpected praise. "Well, Charms is my best subject."
"Is it?" she asked, curiosity clear in her voice.
"It's where I get my highest scores anyway," he said with a shrug, the knot of apprehension he'd held in his gut since Christmas night loosening the slightest bit. "I actually like Transfiguration better."
"I would think it's be Potions what with all your prank candies."
Fred winced. "Yeah, I'm a decent hand a potions, but George is far better. Lucky git."
Hermione smiled softly at him before realizing what she's doing. She shook her head to clear it and looked away, uncomfortable again in the small alcove with him.
"Thank you, Fred, for the gift," she said, reaching for the tapestry.
"Will you use it?" his voice surprisingly desperate.
Hermione turned and stared at him over her shoulder for a long time, sad brown eyes traveling over his face, her chest tight in her desire to believe the sincerity she saw there.
"I don't know, Fred."
He nodded staring down at his feet.
"I have to get to class..." she began awkwardly.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving her off with a force nonchalance. "You go on ahead."
Nodding once, Hermione slipped silently out of the alcove, journal now hugged tightly to her chest.
Fred stayed behind in the alcove, replaying the interaction and again kicking himself for his harsh and stupid words from weeks ago. He was just about to leave when he looked down and spotted Hermione's library book that she'd dropped when he had first pulled her in. Mood lightening slightly, Fred bent to pick up the book, pocketing it. He smiled to himself, plotting for the at least one more guaranteed interaction he would soon has with his wayward best friend.
Author's Note: Bloody hell, this chapter did not want to be written. I completely agree with Dixie Chic from the reviews that Hermione shouldn't forgive him immediately because, come on! No matter that she's being stubborn, he was a HUGE jerk last chapter. He deserved that sardine hex. And I rewrote that scene between Fred and Sirius five times with quite a few more innuendos, but I didn't want them to be at each other's throats, too, and it was just a mess. No matter. I've now washed my hands of it. Next chapter should be much more my style.