Chapter 26

September 20th 1999

Confession

Little did Hermione know, but Fred had been in the exact same sleepless, frustrated and confused boat right alongside her the night after her birthday meal. He'd spent half the night with his face buried in his pillow, trying to reassure himself that he had done the right thing and the other half pacing his flat in an effort to try and somehow physically expel the thoughts in his mind. It hadn't worked and he'd given up just before dawn, when he'd made himself a much needed cup of coffee, coming to stand in his current position in front of his window and watching as the sun slowly rose above the many wonky rooftops of Diagon Alley. He cupped the coffee in his hands, trying to soak up the warmth it provided as he once again went over the events of the evening before. While he was immensely happy with the sudden closeness they had experienced, having finally got to wrap his arms around her and feel her body against his, he was horrified by how close he had come to kissing her and destroying all of her progress with his own hormone driven desires. He was angry at himself for being tempted, angry at himself for wanting to fulfil his own desires when she was still so early into her recovery. However, despite his current frustrations with himself, he couldn't ignore the fact that his feelings were interfering with their interactions and he was finding it impossible to prevent himself from acting in ways that he felt he shouldn't. In need of advice from the only member of his family who might know how Hermione was feeling, he crossed to the bookshelves and pulled a piece of parchment from the stack on the bottom shelf. Before he could back out of his plan, he wrote a quick letter to Ginny and sent it off with his owl, Barney, who had come home after a night hunting only moments ago. The cream and brown bird was disgruntled at being sent out so soon, nipping Fred's fingers to show his displeasure, before flying off.

The morning passed slowly despite the large number of customers who passed through the shop. Fred busied himself by doing a stock take, noting down all of the items that were running low and replenishing them from the store room if they had them at hand. Anything that wasn't readily available to them was marked as something he would need to brew or otherwise inform George he needed to make. This was the usual split of duties between them when it came to their products; Fred brewed the potions and George worked on the more physical products. It wasn't that George wasn't an adept brewer or that Fred wasn't confident with his spell work, it all came down to what they enjoyed doing. Fred had always enjoyed brewing and his brother had always enjoyed physical spell work, so that was how the duties fell. They switched out sometimes or covered for each other due to sickness or other absence, but this was their comfortable rhythm. When the shelves were filled as much as possible, Fred let their assistant know that he was going to begin brewing the things that they were lacking before retreating into the storeroom. By the time his lunch hour arrived, he had set some love potions up to brew before making a move to go up to his flat, joined by the youngest Weasley when she sauntered into the storeroom.

"Trying to escape the conversation you asked for?" she smirked and he rolled his tired eyes, gesturing for her to follow him upstairs.

"What's happened?" she asked, her smirk falling at the sight of the tired rings around his eyes and he sighed, shaking his head as they climbed the stairs, "is Hermione okay?"

"She's fine," he told her, smiling sadly as he pushed the door open and let her enter his flat before him, muttering under his breath, "no thanks to me."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed and he kicked himself for not speaking quietly enough, she hadn't meant to hear that bit, "what did you do, Fred?"

"I didn't do anything, Gin!" Fred groaned as he closed the door behind them, his voice raising due to his own frustration and she quirked her eyebrow in question, "it was her birthday yesterday, she came here, I gave her the gifts from George and me, she hugged me-"

"She hugged you?" Ginny asked with a smile and he nodded, though glaring at her for interrupting him.

"Yes, Gin, she hugged me," he grumbled, crossing to his sofa and collapsing down onto it before throwing one arm over his face to hide his shame, "and I almost bloody kissed her."

"You did what?!" Ginny shrieked happily, jumping onto the sofa next to him and pushing his arm away from his face, "what the hell do you mean 'almost'?!"

"She was this close," he sighed, lifting his hand in order to use his thumb and pointer finger to indicate three inches, "and I nearly kissed her and I hate myself."

"What…" Ginny started, but trailed off when he threw his arm over his face again.

His mind kept taking him back to that moment, back to the second his eyes flicked down to her lips and every time it did he felt his entire body erupt in goosebumps as warmth pooled in his gut. If he didn't already despise himself for almost ruining everything, he hated himself for the way his body reacted to the memory. When Ginny didn't speak, he lifted his arm enough to uncover one eye and opened it to look at her. She was frowning at him and almost looked angry, verified when she suddenly slapped him around the head and he yelped, jumping to the side and putting some distance between them to avoid the second slap.

"What the-"

"You're such an idiot, Fred," she bit out and he groaned, nodding, "how could you almost kiss her?!"

"You don't think I know that?!" he spat back, sighing as he leaned forwards and rested his elbows against his knees, dropping his gaze to the floor. He obviously hadn't heard or chose to ignore the emphasis she put on 'almost', "you don't think I know how close I came to ruining everything she's accomplished over the last couple of months? How close I came to ruining all that I've managed to do for her?"

"Wait, what?" she said and he didn't have to turn to hear the confusion in her voice, though he wasn't finished and chose to ignore her question.

"We've managed to build this friendship and she seems comfortable around me now. Hell, she's even talked about her parents with me," Ginny gasped at this, but he ignored that too as he continued ranting, "I came so bloody close to ruining everything. If I had kissed her, she would have gone running back to her flat and who knows if I'd ever get to see her again. Merlin, Gin, I almost sent her back to where she was when I found her! I can't lose her! Not now! I love her!"

His voice had risen to a shout as his frustration fuelled rant had continued and when he was done, he blinked and was shocked to see a drop of water fall from his eye and splash against the floorboards between his feet. Ginny was obviously shocked by the sudden turn of events too, because he heard her sigh before she shifted her weight next to him and he felt her arms encircle him. Allowing himself to be pulled into her hold, he rested his head against her shoulder as she stroked his hair in the same way his mother had done years before whenever he'd hurt himself or had an argument with George. He sniffled, dragging his sleeve over his hand and using it to wipe his eyes while they sat in silence. He hadn't cried since the war had ended, not when they had buried his brother and not in all the months he spent in his own isolation. He had long since thought he lacked the ability, so the tears that now moistened his sleeve were a strange achievement for him. The words he had shouted were ones he had refused to admit to himself and he hadn't even begun to expect they would come out when he was essentially shouting at his sister.

"You think she's too fragile?" Ginny asked softly and he nodded mutely against her shoulder, "you think that if you told her how you feel, she would react badly?"

"She'd go back into her shell," he muttered, sniffling before he pulled away from his sister and lay back against the sofa, "I'd ruin everything."

"You love her?" Ginny asked, seeking clarification and he snorted bitterly, nodding once, "Merlin, you've gotten yourself into quite the predicament."

"Yes, I'm very aware, thanks Gin," he chuckled sadly and she grinned, though it lacked amusement, "what am I supposed to do?"

"You could always tell Her-"

"I can't!" he growled, his eyes wide with surprise at the suggestion and Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes, "did you listen to anything I said? It would ruin everything."

"You don't know that," Ginny pointed out and he groaned, throwing his arm back over his face in exasperation, "maybe it would work out?"

"I'm not that lucky, Gin," he snorted, shaking his head beneath his arm, "besides, if I took a risk and it backfired, I'd hate myself forever for pushing her away."

"So what are you going to do?" she grumbled, turning on the sofa and collapsing against it next to him, "nothing?"

"Exactly." he affirmed and she groaned from beside him.

"You're going to completely ignore the fact that you're obviously in love with her?" she asked, her voice tired though it carried a hint of frustration and he nodded.

"Yes."

"And you're going to do absolutely nothing?"

"Nothing."

"You're an idiot." she snorted and he turned to glare at her, finding her shaking her head.

"Yes thank you Ginny, I am very well aware." he grumbled and she laughed lightly.

His sister made no further comment and he was glad that she seemed to understand his viewpoint or had at least given up trying to. While the disagreeable silence hung in the air, Fred tried to wrestle with his own mind in an attempt to box away his love for Hermione. There was absolutely no use fighting his feelings for her, but he absolutely could not allow himself to act on them under any circumstances. Whatever happened, he had to keep them to himself in order to prevent halting or erasing her progress, because if he found himself responsible for knocking her back he would spend the rest of his life angry at himself. Her recovery was still in its early stages, she was still too fragile and still wasn't able to forgive herself for her actions before and during the war. He knew that she was still battling with the weight of her own guilt, even if she seemed to be doing better, because he was too. Everything that he felt for her was his burden to bear and his alone, he needed to focus his efforts and attention on continuing to help her heal and move forward. He could swear that even now he could hear her voice in a distant place in his mind, taunting him and forcing him to think of her. With a sigh, he resolved himself to do nothing and rose from the sofa. He knocked his empty coffee mug from that morning off of the table as he stood and it made a thud as it hit the floor. Picking it up, he took it with him into the kitchen, placing it in the sink before he made them both a sandwich.

His sister stayed with him and he turned conversation to her team and Neville's updates from Hogwarts, asking questions that he knew would keep her talking long enough to prevent him having to. She forwarded a story of one of Neville's students being spun around the greenhouse by a Venomous Tentacula, told him about her latest impressive goals for Harpies and gave updates about the family from the Sunday dinner he had missed. He listened as she described the drink they had all shared for the witch he loved the evening before, shared the stories that the family had laughed over and he laughed at some of them too, particularly the one about her accidentally turning herself into a cat-human hybrid in her second year. He hadn't heard that story before and as he always did when he learned of one of her accomplishments, he was impressed that she had managed to brew such a complex potion at age 13. Hell, he would struggle to brew Polyjuice now, so it really was an accomplishment for her to have done so all those years ago. Ginny made him swear never to tell her that they all knew that story and he chuckled, though swore he would keep it a secret. He seemed to have a lot of those lately, one more wouldn't make a difference.

He said goodbye to Ginny when the clock struck one and she hugged him tightly, rubbing his back in the motherly way she had inherited from their Mum. She might be the youngest Weasley, but Fred was certain that, out of all of the siblings, she had the most emotionally mature head on her shoulders.

"Don't be thick, Fred," she whispered in his ear before pulling away and he frowned, not understanding her words, "don't let her go back, you're the only thing driving her forwards."

He didn't have a chance to answer before she stepped into the floo and disappeared off towards the Burrow. Everything he was doing, bottling his feelings and not letting them show, was to keep her from going back.