Chapter Title: 8 - Missing and Misunderstandings

Characters: Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley, Ron Weasley

Description: Set during DH. Hermione, Fred, and Ron volunteer for the mission that leads to the Battle of the Seven Potters. Fred saves Hermione from Ron. Much angst.

Word Count: 1,824

Date Published: 11/8/2014

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

AUTHOR NOTE: I... Ugh. This originally had two parts. Part 2 is giving me grief so I'm presenting you this in the meantime while I work through the scene. If I promise they eventually hook up, will you promise not to lynch me for this chapter?

Alone. That was how Hermione Granger felt deep inside, though she nearly successfully buried it beneath her drive and dedication, ignored it despite the pang it would force upon her consciousness unexpectedly. Fred left. Fred and George Weasley both. They'd left Hogwarts just over a year ago in a gregarious flash of sparklers and fire, defying "Headmistress" Dolores Umbridge, and generally causing chaos in what was an admittedly brilliant marketing scheme.

At the time, Hermione had been proud of them. Not that she ever would have admitted that to anyone even under the cruciatus curse.

Fred had warned her. Of course he had. He'd used their secret journals, chickening out on telling her face-to-face despite being a big, brave Gryffindor. And, for what it was worth, Hermione had understood. The joke shop, a very real dream due to the twin's surprising financial and business savvy, was something Fred had always talked about doing one day. It was everything he and George had worked toward and Hermione would be damned if she would ever stand in the way of such a dream. Even if it meant he didn't finish his formal schooling. Though, if their constant drive to perfect their products and the nearly instant success of their store was any indication, they wouldn't need it. Even if it meant she would be lonely. Because he would have graduated two years before her anyway. Because she still had the journal.

But for a long time, Fred hardly wrote in the journal. Hermione had taken to writing on a brand new page each day to delineate just how long it had been since his last contact. It didn't help. If anything, seeing page after page of just her flowing script made the ache in her chest clench painfully and her throat feel tight. It had taken her an embarrassingly long time to finally admit to herself that he wasn't just too busy, to chalk it up as a bad job and quit writing to him altogether. Confused and angry and desperately wishing to understand just why he seemed to have given up on her, she was unable to completely part with the journal he had created for her. For them. For all that really seemed to matter. Instead, she kept it in the bottom of her school trunk, covered in other much more important books. Still safe. Still there. But no longer the daily reminder of the friendship and love-was it really love-that she'd once felt for Fred bloody Weasley.

If she was being honest, she wasn't over it. Not completely. Not even close, damn it all, if the burning in her eyes and the pinch in her throat were any indication. But those thoughts did her no favors now. No, not one bloody favor because now they were all sitting in on an Order meeting; Hermione, Ron, George, and Fred. Fred who was looking anywhere but toward her side of the room where she perched stiffly next to Ron in one of the numerous uncomfortable wooden chair someone had set out in a wide semicircle around the room.

They were discussing a rescue mission of vital importance. Of age, she and Ron (mostly she) had argued successfully to be included, inducted as full members despite one year of Hogwarts remaining. Many of the adults present looked on disapprovingly as those they perceived as children volunteered for what they all hoped would be a smooth mission, retrieving Harry Potter from number 4 Privet Drive before he turned 17 and any protections granted him there were gone for good. Hermione was amongst the first to volunteer. Unwillingly, her eyes slid to Fred's glowering face as he and George stepped forward, followed by a determined Fleur and Bill. There was no joking lilt to his face. Even George's smirk seemed grim as partners were assigned, details were hashed out. The twins argued ferociously and adamantly they not be separated until Moody finally growled they would accept their assignments or be banned.

Meeting dismissed, Hermione silently berated herself for lingering in the room, dazed but acknowledging any who made comment to her and the stormy-faced Ron who sat uncomfortably close to her side. Her heart clenched bitterly in her chest as she warred with not wanting to hurt Ron, and steadfastly refusing to believe what all the signs were pointing to. Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't seem to bring herself to care for Ron. Not the way she always so easily seemed to care for Fred. She snorted at herself, frustrated and shaking her head in mild disgust. See where those feelings had gotten her?

"What?"

Hermione jumped, barely managing to hold in her startled squeak. Ron just rolled his eyes at her. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

Sniffing disdainfully, she felt herself shrug. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Right," Ron said, his voice laced with sarcasm. Crossing his arms in a pout, he slouched further down into the hard seat. "You were touchy about something before term ended. And now it seems each time I'm with you this summer you've been down right brooding."

She scoffed, riotous curls shaking vigorously as she sighed. "Oh, honestly, Ron. I am not brooding."

"Could have bloody well fooled me," he growled in exasperation, raking a hand through his messy orange hair. "You've been shirty since you arrived at the meeting."

Anger flared, sharpening the warm brown of her eyes. Huffing, she stood, glaring daggers down at him. "I've not," she declared bitterly, hands balled in fists at her side. "Just because you don't know what it's like to have things weighing on your mind…"

With an inarticulate yell, Ron lumbered to his feet. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, using his not insignificant height to tower over her.

Unwanted guilt nagged at her, and she looked away scowling before pinching the bridge of her nose. She did not want to argue with him. Not again.

Hermione sighed. "Nothing. It means nothing, Ron." She dropped her hand with a groan and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm just worried about the mission." She mumbled the last.

A small smile tweaking of his lips was all the warning she had before he pulled her into a stiff, awkward embrace. He swayed with her, rubbing clumsy circles on her back. "Hey," he breathed into her hair. "It'll be alright, Mione. Things will feel better once you're staying at the Burrow."

He pulled back then, his rough cheek brushing harshly against hers. Hermione's body clenched in dread when Ron stopped, his face entirely too close. Hot puffs of air curled around her face. He smiled softly, his eyes focusing briefly on her lips.

Squeaking in dismay, Hermione yanked herself from his grip, turning her back, shoulders hunched in on herself. She could feel the annoyance and frustration radiating off him.

Gesturing feebly, she cleared her throat. "I… I have to go, Ron. To look up…" Eyes wide, her stomach rolled in panic, as no excuses readily came to her. Desperate, her gaze snapped to movement in the doorway, only to feel her throat close painfully.

"Granger," Fred drawled lazily, shoulder perched against the doorframe, his long legs crossed at the ankle as he stared almost bored at his nails. He was dressed in typical Weasley Wizard Wheezes attire; an obnoxiously checkered silk shirt, a surprisingly matching tie, and deep brown tweed vest and trousers. His boots were bright green dragonhide, and gods if he didn't look every bit as arrogant as Malfoy ever had. More unsure now than ever, Hermione stood frozen between the two redheads, her eyes locked unwaveringly on Fred who refused to acknowledge her any further.

Behind her, Ron groaned. "Get lost, George."

Hermione winced, dropping her head. Fred snorted mirthlessly before pushing off the door and strolling leisurely into the room, the heels of his boot clicking sharply on the worn wood floor. Still rooted to the spot, Hermione tracked his progress from beneath her lashes, but Fred never once glanced her way.

"No can do, Ronnikins. Granger here promised me some research for improving the effects of Daydream Charms, and I intend to collect."

Turning awkwardly, Hermione's gaze darted between the brothers. Ron's scowl deepened and his shoulders hunched as he shoved fists deep in his pockets.

"Mione wouldn't help you with a prank," Ron insisted, though his voice was tinged with the slightest hint of uncertainty.

The cool smile Fred turned to his youngest brother didn't reach his eyes. "Not a prank. Daydream Charm. Entirely harmless, I assure you."

Ron stared hard at Fred, his gaze flicking briefly to her. Grimacing, she nodded.

"It's true," she offered weakly, clasping her hands in front of her.

"When?" Ron asked skeptically, his eyes continuing to glance between the two of them as if he was certain they were setting him up. For what, Hermione hadn't the faintest idea. That thought made her sad, because there had been a time when she might have known what Fred was up to.

Unaware of her growing melancholy, Fred shook his head in apparent bemusement. "Last summer," he announced confidently, though Hermione swore she heard bitterness tinting his words. "Before you lot went back to Hogwarts. Told me they were a brilliant bit of magic, she did, though she thought she could do better."

That is exactly how that conversation had gone Hermione reflected, though her remembrance of it was a bit more playful than Fred was implying. She certainly hadn't thought Fred was insulted by her quip at the time, not with the way his smirk had slide into a full smile, brightening his whole face. She felt her cheeks flush just remembering how delighted she'd felt causing that particular smile.

Lips pursed, face sour, Ron scoffed at them. "Fine. Whatever." Shoulders hunched around his ears, he stalked past them both, pausing at the door. "See you later, Hermione." And then he was gone.

Standing awkwardly in the ever thickening silence, Hermione studied the nonchalant Fred. "Thank you," she whispered to the space between them.

Pulling himself up to his full height, Fred nodded. With a humorless snort, he shrugged. "Yes, well, it is true." Hard, hazel eyes snapped to hers. "You did promise to send me an improved formula."

Blinking hard, Hermione jawed at him in surprise.

Grimacing, Fred shook his head in disgust. With long strides, he followed his youngest brother out the door before pausing like Ron had. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, biting his lip as his hand waved around him in frustration. His eyes were sad when they finally met hers and he sighed, exasperated, before shaking his head once more and walking away without another word.

Hot tears cut tracks down her cheeks. Hermione slumped into a chair, eyes staring in blank horror at gaping door. Her head swam in confusion.

"But I did," she whispered to the empty room.