Houses Competition. HoH, Ravenclaw, Drabble, 1st September, WC: 1422

AU, for sure. Fred meets Hermione. Non-magical. Fate? Perhaps.

0-0-0-0

.

First of September, 2012

Fred glanced out of the train window, watching Ipswich race past and the glorious countryside spread out like a roll of film in front of him. It was beautiful. Certainly more peaceful than he was used to, running the joke shop with his slightly crazed twin brother. He didn't need music to completely zone out and just relax for once. He was absorbed in the way the light glimmered back from the grass, and the way the window caught reflections. Too absorbed to notice the girl sidle down the crowded aisle.

"Excuse me?" she asked, a little breathless. Her voice dragged him from the sleepy reverie. He blinked, confused for a moment. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Again, she gave him pause. Nevertheless, after a moment he gestured she should sit.

"Sorry, my brain stopped engaging for a minute there," he commented. She laughed nervously. Fred noted that she had a nice laugh, and that it would be almost rude to not attempt to make her laugh again. "I usually have my rowdy twin brother with me, so it's very weird to zone out so well."

"I've never thought trains to be particularly quiet," she replied, setting her bags between her knees. He noticed the suitcase and the purple rucksack, wondered whether she was going abroad, then mentally admonished himself for staring at her legs. It would be weird for him to be staring at her knees, right? Yes. "You know, people on their phones, the children, the chatter, the chunter of the rail tracks."

"Trust me, this is quiet," Fred grinned. "I run a joke shop."

The girl laughed shortly, as though surprised by his admission.

"Well that makes much more sense now. A crowded theme park must be quiet to you." Fred laughed, nodding. "I, however, work mostly in book shops. Everywhere is noisy. Including places where people don't talk at all. It's why I notice sounds so much. My god, I am babbling." She smiled again, embarrassed this time.

"Nothing wrong with babbling," Fred murmured. He decided he would introduce himself. "I'm Fred."

"Joke shop Fred, nice to meet you. I'm Hermione."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, and so began the most wonderful train journey of his life so far.

.

First of September, 2013

"Holy shit."

George whipped his head up at Fred's sudden swear. Not that the swearing was unusual, but they were in fact in the middle of the day, the store filled with children still on their summer holidays. They shrieked, danced, and played with the toys littering every unoccupied space. Yet, Fred - whose attention was so disrupted - was looking in one direction, at one particular person. A girl, with a mane of brown hair, carrying a purple rucksack.

He moved over to his brother, who was frozen in the process of stocking up on playing card packs, trying to comprehend what was so special about this girl.

"Freddie?" he asked, confused. "Who's that?"

"It's her," Fred muttered under his breath, not seeming to notice his twin beside him. "It's her. Jesus Christ it's her. Oh my god." He looked down at his hands, surprised to see he was holding a pack of cards, and then even more surprised to see George by his side, bewildered. "George! There you are!"

"Here I am," George grinned. "Who is she?"

Fred recalled the day on the train to London. She'd gotten on at Ipswich, visiting family, exactly a year ago. He remembered because it had been the day he'd come back from the hospital in Yarmouth. September first, 2012. His discharge from James Paget.

None of that was important. What was important was that the entire four hour trip from Yarmouth to London had been made spectacularly better by the presence of a one female named Hermione - the girl with the same backpack as the one in the shop that very instant. They had chatted a storm all the way to London. And he now knew odds and sods about this stranger - that her parents were dentists but they had since retired to Sheringham, that her favourite book would always be The Colour Purple, that she once fell into a mob of morris dancers because her shoe laces were too long.

"The girl from the train," he managed, instead of all this, in explanation. "I think I told you about her? I should have done."

"That was ages ago, though," George frowned.

"Exactly a year ago," Fred returned. "I'm gonna go see if she wants any help…"

But George held him back, one hand on his shoulder.

"Let it happen," George advised with a knowing smile.

Fred was ready to resent him when Hermione looked up from her tourist map, catching his eye. He looked away, certain that his cheeks were burning a furious red in embarrassment. Perhaps she was looking at George, thinking it was him? They looked very similar, after all. It was entirely possible.

But then she turned away and walked out of the store, much to the brothers' dismay.

.

First of September, 2014

He was almost hopeful.

He woke up early, trying to think of the places where she might wander to. He thought of where he could go differently that she might be. After all, he had seen her on this date the last two years, and he was certainly hoping to make up for their lack of good conversation the previous year.

Fred Weasley had the day off work, which was unusual for him to start. He chose to go for a walk, rather than sitting in all day as he would have done. He decided to mosey around the bookstores, because if it was fate then she would be in one of the ones he went in. Surely? That was how fate worked, wasn't it?

It wasn't a particularly special september day. The sun rose steadily in the grey sky, pale gold against a smattering of clouds. It shed just enough light onto the dying leaves that surrounded the scene, but it was in no way a spectacular glowing burst of colours that might depict the perfect day for meeting a beautiful woman, sort of by chance.

Did that matter in the big scheme of things? That the weather wasn't perfect. Not really, thought Fred.

"Hey!"

The voice drew his attention immediately because, even though he had spoken to her only once two years ago, he recognised it instantly. Because he had been hoping, he suspected. And his face was halfway to a grin when he saw her face, the pointing finger, a worried shout then…

Darkness had filled the spaces of his head. Lights flickered behind his eyelids, but he wasn't quite ready to wake up yet. He could hear her talking, and she must be a dream. He couldn't just wake up from a dream where she would be preserved. He didn't want to wake up just yet.

"Have you contacted his brother?" Fred heard her asking.

"Yes, he's on the way," another man replied, but Fred knew not who.

"I should be going, I have to get back home. But his brother will be here soon?"

"Yes Miss Granger, no need to worry. I will let him know you stayed as long as you were able."

.

First of September, 2015

"Seriously?" Fred demanded, halfway to laughing. She was stood in front of him, almost as surprised as he was. But surely neither of them should have been surprised at this point? "Again. On this day. This is crazy - are you stalking me?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione Granger parried, looking horrified. "What about you stalking me?"

"Come on, you got on my train. Came into my shop. I got hit by a car when you shouted to me. And now you're in my home village. Seriously, no one lives in Ottery St. Catchpole." As Fred spoke, Hermione grew more astounded at how it all sounded. But, from her point of view, that wasn't how it had happened at all. The instances had been a series of coincidences. "Yet. Here you are, as if by some ridiculous miracle."

She looked for a moment that she would argue.

"It's weird, right?"

"So weird," Fred laughed. "Do you think it means anything?"

"I guess I'm a believer in fate, but I never would have expected it, you know?" she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But maybe we should listen to whatever it's trying to say."

"I couldn't agree more."

0-0-0-0

Thanks for reading!