Chapter 25

September 20th 1999

Confusion

Hermione hadn't slept at all once she returned from Fred's after he had completely blown her away with his birthday celebrations, despite her tiredness from the outpouring of emotion she had experienced. She had tossed and turned, driving herself crazy with thoughts and questions as she tried to force herself to sleep but it had been utterly useless. She saw every hour that passed, resorting to staring at the ceiling and beating herself up inside over their interaction. Not only had she thrown herself at him, which had been as much a surprise to her as it had obviously been to him, but she had frozen when they had been close enough to feel each others shuddering breaths. She could have kissed him, she could have moved, she could have done anything but her body had conspired against her and she'd found herself unable to move until he had physically needed to move her out his personal space. Each time her thoughts returned to that moment, she covered her face in shame as she remembered the very evident shock that had been written all over his face. She felt certain of one thing now though, however much it saddened her. He obviously didn't reciprocate her feelings for him, because he had been just as capable of kissing her than she had been of kissing him, but he hadn't. So that was that.

When the clock finally began to assault her eardrums with its piercing alarm tone, she reached out without looking and slapped her hand down to turn it off. Sighing as the room fell to silence once again, she dragged herself tiredly from her bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. Flicking the shower on, she stripped from her pyjamas and leaned heavily against the sink as the water warmed up, appraising her reflection as it stared back at her. Despite her terrible night of non-sleep, she still looked for more awake than she had spent so long looking before he had given her the vials of his modified sleeping potion. Her hair hung loose and smooh now, though without the Sleekeazy's she knew it would be a complete disaster. She absent-mindedly picked up the bottle from where it lay next to the sink, remembering how surprised she had been by the sweet gesture before she returned it to its spot and sighed, turning towards the bathtub and stepping in. She hissed as the hot water scalded her back but she fought through the discomfort as she usually did, glad to be able to feel such sensations at all after so long of being numb.

When she had showered, sorted her hair, dried and dressed in a respectable pair of brown flared trousers and a white button up shirt, she left her bedroom and entered into the kitchen before preparing herself a bowl of cereal and a cup of tea. Sitting down on the plush sofa he had transfigured for her, she ate slowly with her gaze fixed on the faces of her smiling parents. His efforts had knocked the wind from her lungs, the thoughtfulness behind his gift was evident and she would never have the words to thank him for what he had done. He had given her his memory of them, allowed her to see them move in her space if only a little, not to mention the effort he had gone to in order to get her a new pair of shoes. He'd told her the whole story over their dinner of Meatballs - a nod back to the first time they had eaten together, he had said - and she couldn't believe he had gone to so much trouble to provide her with this incredible gift. Realistically, it was just a pair of shoes, but to her they meant everything and he must have known that.

By lunchtime she found herself entirely tied up in knots, unable to concentrate on anything at all and frustrating herself in her efforts. When the clock struck 12, she made a snap decision to be brave and left the office. She walked quickly, keeping her head down throughout her journey and pushing her way through the crowds as they made their own way towards the Ministry cafeteria. She didn't have time to worry about the displeasure various people expressed as she knocked them to the side, she had a mission in mind and she needed to carry it out before her bravery left her and she went running back to the safety of her desk. When she finally reached the atrium, she was pleased to find that there were no queues and made a beeline for the closest fireplace, stepping in and throwing down some powder as she called out her destination.

"Weasleys Wizard Wheezes."

When she reappeared, she found herself in the empty stockroom of the shop and sighed to herself, worried that she perhaps might not have thought this through. She knew that he was only feet above her head, probably eating a sandwich for his lunch and absolutely not thinking about her. She imagined that he was just fine, going about his day without a care in the world while she was absolutely run ragged with thoughts of him. She groaned, angered by the thought and the noise must have alerted George to her presence because his head poked around the door that led to the shop just moments later.

"Did you forget the upstairs bit again?" he smirked, briefly disappearing to thank whoever he had been serving before his head reappeared.

"No," she sighed, wringing her hands together as she did when she was nervous, "I was uh… Actually hoping to talk to you."

George's mouth formed an 'o', his shock and confusion at her sudden willingness to be around him obviously throwing him for a loop. He nodded before excusing himself to go and find their assistant, having hired them the month before to help with the return to school rush and the run up to Christmas. When he had set their staff member on the till to cover for him, George walked into the storeroom and gestured for her to sit down, glancing at the clock as he sat opposite her. She sighed, still wringing her hands together where they rested on the table and focusing her gaze on an empty vial that sat between them.

"So… To what do I owe the pleasure?" George asked confidently and she glanced up, found him smirking and blushed as she looked back to the vial.

"I need some advice," she muttered, picking at a particularly bothersome piece of dry skin on her thumb, "about Fred."

"Oh? What did he do now?" George snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes before forcing herself to look at him.

"He didn't do anything," she sighed, thinking back on their close encounter the day before with a frown, "its more something that… I feel."

"You falling for him, you mean?" George smirked, raising his eyebrow and Hermione's eyes flew open as her cheeks burned, "relax, Hermione. He doesn't have a clue."

"How did you know?" she asked quietly and he laughed outright at her now, shaking his head in amusement. She glared at him, not appreciating that he found her predicament funny.

"I've seen how you look at him, how you go that colour," he pointed at her face and she ducked her head in embarrassment, "whenever he touches you or winks at you. It's obvious."

"But he hasn't noticed?" she asked quietly and George shook his head as he shrugged, "he hasn't said anything to you? About… Yesterday?"

"What about yesterday?" George asked, leaning forwards and resting his forearms against the table, "what happened? You didn't like your gifts?"

"I loved them, thank you by the way," she said, smiling slightly at him and he grinned proudly, "and what Fred did for me… It's amazing. Hes so bloody wonderful to me and I don't understand it."

"He… Cares about you," George said carefully and she frowned at him, noticing his choice of words, "a lot. He's always been better at showing how much he cares through his actions. Terrible with words, is Freddie."

"I know he cares about me, George," she said with a small smile, feeling more able to meet his eye now and looking up to do so, "but what I'm feeling… I'm constantly thinking about him! He's the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing at night! It's like he won't get out of my head and I don't know how to…"

"How to what?" George asked softly and she sighed, shaking her head as the worked up the courage to say the words she hadn't even admitted to herself.

"How to stop myself from falling in love with him."

George's eyes widened for a split second before he seemed to recover himself, but he didn't speak. The words hung heavily in the air between them and he seemed to realise how much bravery it took to say them out loud, because he reached forward and placed his hand gently on top of hers. His hands weren't as soft as Fred's or as warm. He had hard skin on his fingertips and the pads of his palm that rubbed against her skin as she trembled. She could tell that he was holding something back from her, she could see conflict behind his eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to outright ask. She frowned as she heard a thud from above, glancing up at the ceiling and George had obviously heard it too because his gaze flicked upwards as well before he squeezed her hands gently with his before pulling his arm away and smiling softly at her.

"I hate to break it to you, but I think you're a little late to that particular fight," he offered quietly and she snorted, giving a small nod, "have you thought about telling him how you feel? It might no-"

"I can't do that!" she gasped incredulously and he groaned, dragging his left hand through his hair and closing his eyes, "if he doesn't feel the same, which I highly doubt he does, then it would ruin everything!"

"Then what exactly are you going to do about the fact that you're in love with my numskull twin?" He asked tiredly and she found herself unable to answer.

That was the problem, wasn't it? There was nothing she realistically could do, not without losing her best friend and only person she felt entirely comfortable to be herself around. There was no way she would risk destroying her friendship with the person who had single handedly dragged her out of her deep depression, helped to keep her afloat and listened as she talked about her trauma. He had become her rock over the last couple of months and she didn't want to do anything to damage the familiarity they had developed or else she would end up back at square one, with no one and entirely alone. The only thing she could do was continue to have these feelings and allow herself to feel them while maintaining the status quo. When the clock chimed one, she made a move to leave knowing that Fred would be coming downstairs any second, but George grabbed her arm before she could get into the fireplace.

"You're not going to disappear again, are you?" he asked, obvious worry in his eyes and she smiled gently at him as she shook her head.

"I couldn't even if I did want to," she reassured him and he gave her a relieved smile, releasing his grip on her arm, "he knows where I live."

She heard his laughter as she spun away, reappearing in the Ministry atrium and making her way back up to the office. She walked more slowly now, letting her mind go over the conversation she had just had and the relief she felt at admitting to herself, and George, how she felt. She supposed that giving her feelings a name - love - allowed her to build a wall around them that would enable her to continue their friendship. She wouldn't stop herself from feeling love for him, but she could maintain their comfortable relationship and enjoy being around him while safe in the knowledge that it wouldn't be harmed by her feelings for him. For now, she was positive that she was capable of feeling everything and doing nothing. She had done it for a year before they met and had become very good at hiding her true feelings, after all.

Once she returned to the office, she found herself able to relax into her work and was less distracted by thoughts of him. Her mind still sent her flashes of their closeness, the way he said her name and the smell of his breath, but she simply shook the thoughts away and returned back to her work. By the end of the day, she hadn't completed everything she had been meaning to do but she had done everything she had needed to do and she accepted that today was just a bad day, fuelled by her own panic and lack of sleep. Tomorrow was another day and she would catch up on her intended tasks then.