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Fred walked around exploring the different rooms in the flat. This was his second night staying here and he still hadn't gotten used to it. Eying the purple and orange decor, however, he had to admit they did a great job fixing the place up. He just wished he could remember it. Or that George was here. He had been spending more and more time with his twin recently, but tonight George was out with Angelina, leaving him alone to make sense of the eccentric things peppering their home.

Maybe he would just call it an early night. He could use the rest anyway. Isn't that what the healers kept saying? Yes, that would be more comfortable than staring at a bunch of stuff he didn't remember. He headed to his room where he quickly changed into nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants and was just lying down when he heard a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, his curiosity got the best of him and rose to see who would be visiting at this time of day. It had to be important. George had told him that only certain people had access to the entrance of the flat so it must be someone he knew.

"Hermione!" he said, holding the door open for her. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course." He went to smile at her when he realized she was staring at him. "What?" he asked before it hit him. He raised an eyebrow, but then smirked. "Right, I'll just go get a shirt."

He laughed as her face turned bright pink. "I...that is, I heard George was out with Angelina and thought you might like some company," she stammered.

He grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head. "You weren't just trying to catch me in a state of undress, were you?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Of course not," she said, but couldn't help but laugh. "Believe it or not, most people don't answer the door half clothed, Fred."

He shrugged. "Ah, most people, but I suspect George and I do it quite a bit. I mean, with physiques like this..."

She swallowed hard, but smiled and shook her head at him. "I see spending more time with George is wearing off on you." She didn't need to tell him that all those years of Quidditch had done his body good. He could tell by her embarrassment.

"Pfft. He wishes he was as good looking as me."

"You know," she said, "you were actually worse than he was before..." She gestured to him to indicate his amnesia.

"Yeah? Well, I think I am liking myself more and more all the time."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Self-esteem was never an issue for either of you. Glad to see that hasn't changed."

Fred laughed and took a seat on the couch, gesturing that she should join him.

"So, Ms. Granger," he said, "what is it that you suggest we do? Game? Movie on the telly? Have a drink? Talk?" He leaned in close to hear and murmured, "Snog?" He laughed as she blushed and rolled her eyes.

"How about a drink and talk? That is, if you don't need to sleep? I'm sorry, I should have realized it was so late." He could tell she only now noticed that he looked thoroughly ready to go to bed.

"No, no," he said. "I was going to, but only because George wasn't home. It's weird being here without him."

"It's going well though?" she asked softly.

He sighed, but nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, it is. I just wish he would tell me more. I reckon there isn't anybody else that knows as much about my life as him, right? He doesn't want to tell me though. He thinks I should remember on my own."

"I'm sure it is hard for him," Hermione said.

"Yeah, but it's not like I can help it. I remember bits and pieces at a time. It's getting better, but some things still make no sense." He turned to look at her, his gaze tracing every detail of her face. She was one of those things he didn't fully understand. He was drawn to her, captivated by her, and yet, it seemed that his relationship with her since the war was the most real one they had ever had. They did say you have to hit someone over the head sometimes to make people realize what is right in front of them. Was that what happened with him? George said he had been infatuated with her when they were younger. Why then, did it stop?

He sighed again, knowing he couldn't tell her exactly what he was thinking. He could feel her worried eyes on him, however, and knew he had to say something. "I just feel lost sometimes, is all. I have some memories, but I don't necessarily remember why I have that memory."

"Are you talking about with me?" she asked shyly. He raised an eyebrow at her and blushing, she continued, "I just mean that I know you have been having more memories of us than, well, um, anyone."

He turned to face her, their eyes meeting. "I know there is a reason. I don't know if it's because you were the one to help me, because I fancy your pants off, or some other reason entirely."

He knew the heat was rising in her cheeks even more. She blushed more than anyone he had ever met. He was serious though. He didn't understand why she was so dominant in his mind, his memories. It was even stranger because she didn't seem to know either. He just knew that right now, he really, really liked her being here.

He reached down to brush a strand of hair from her face. Their eyes met again and he realized that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

Unfortunately, his twin chose that moment to join them.

"What are you doing still up?" George asked as he sauntered into the room. "Ah," he said upon seeing Hermione. He grinned. "I'll just be going, then," he said.

"Oh, no, you don't," said Hermione, throwing a cushion that managed to hit him squarely in the face.

"Oomph! Geez, Hermione," he said. "Try to warn a bloke next time."

"Sorry," she mumbled, "but you have to stay."

"Ah, and why is that, Granger?" he asked. "Fancy a threesome?"

She ignored him. "It's time," she said. "It's time you tell Fred everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."