we are almost at the end of the story, so things may start happening faster now; trigger warning: some anxiety talking
After lunch with Harry, Hermione was home alone. She realised she needed some time to herself, to think about things. Her relationship with Fred was starting to get serious, and she didn't know how she felt about it.
"Only you would think that getting serious in a relationship is something to be worried about," Hermione said to herself, laying down on her couch. "You need to stop worrying about these things, Hermione."
It was the story of her life: she was always overthinking things just like with the date on the roof, and in the end, she worked herself into an anxiety state just for everything to be alright.
"You need to relax, Hermione, and just leave in the moment," she continued with her pep talk, trying to relax the knot of anxiety she could feel forming on her stomach. "It worked well when you hadn't planned the date, and is going to work well when you think about your relationship."
Still, thinking about what she should do and doing it are two very different things. Hermione rubbed her face, trying to make her thoughts go away, but it seemed that, the more she tried, the more they clinged to her brain.
"For once, I just wanted everything to stop! No more doubts, no more thoughts, just feel…" Hermione whispered, a weight on her body, feeling tired from the anxiety. "Breathe, Hermione, just remember to breathe. Don't let anxiety dominate your body."
Anxiety was an old friend of hers, but Hermione realised being with Fred had somehow subdued it. It was almost like Fred's presence in her life was a balm to her anxiety, making it easier to deal with everything.
"Stop trying to find what's wrong and just enjoy the good parts, Hermione," she berated herself, rubbing her face harder. "Being here and talking by yourself won't help. Do something productive."
Huffing to herself, Hermione stood up and looked around her flat. Deciding to tidy up, to see if she could control the thoughts in her head, Hermione soon lost herself to the action of cleaning.
It was therapeutic, and she could feel the knot in her stomach unravelling. Putting her books back in the bookshelves, folding the blankets on her couch, fluffing her pillows…it was like she was organising her mind too.
"Now, you just need to have a talk with Fred, and everything will be alright," she said, looking around her flat, before nodding to herself. "Just be yourself and talk about how your anxiety has been giving you some weird thoughts."
Laughing at her statement, Hermione decided to go clean the kitchen. She knew she wouldn't see Fred until the next day, so she tried to think what she was going to tell him.
Hermione hoped things would be okay in the end.