Chapter 33

October 24th 1999

Awakening

Opening her eyes the following morning, Hermione was met with a whole laundry list of sensations that she was completely unprepared for. The room smelled like old books and coffee, the light that shone behind her eyelids was the wrong level of brightness and she could hear the sound of breathing coming from beside her. Even the sheets felt wrong against the small areas of skin that they touched and there was a weight over her side that she was entirely unused to. She gulped, cracking open one eye and found herself staring at Fred's chest barely inches in front of her face, his arm draped around her waist and her leg trapped between his. As she lay perfectly still, trying to think of how to unwind their bodies from one another, her mind was filled with memories of the day before and she groaned aloud in shame. He moved sleepily next to her, tightening his grip on her waist and she found herself pulled even closer than before, leaving her options for escape extremely limited. She sighed, wiggling her arm up between them and poking him in the face, smiling to herself when he grunted. When he didn't open his eyes, she flattened her hand and tapped him slightly on the cheek. He smirked, but didn't open his eyes.

"I'd rather you didn't slap me awake, love," he murmured and she blushed at the affectionate name, but chuckled to herself all the same, "how are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday," she muttered and he opened his eyes now, looking down at her but not letting her out of his vice like hold, "thank you for staying with me."

"Where else would I be?" he asked seriously and she smiled softly up at him, allowing her trapped hand to rest on his cheek. She was about to reply when they were disturbed by the loud crack of apparition as it reverberated around the room.

"Aye, aye," George laughed, looking between them, "what's this then?"

"Uh…" Fred groaned, sharing a shocked look with Hermione before the two of them flew apart and sat stiffly next to each other on the bed, "it's not what it looks like.

"Oh really? Because it looked like you two were cuddling in bed." George laughed, wiggling his eyebrows and Hermione blushed crimson, dropping her head into her hands to hide it.

"It's not what it looks like," she muttered, talking into her hands and she heard George snort as Fred leaned over and rubbed her back, "George, I swear!"

"Of course," he replied confidently and she dropped her hands into her lap, glaring at the younger twin, "you were just pretending to be cuddling in bed. Really good acting skills, you two."

"You're an idiot," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes as she crawled to the edge of the bed and pushed herself off to stand in front of him, hands on her hips, "just for that, you're not getting coffee!"

"Oh come on!" he called after her dejectedly as she left the room, determined not to let him see her embarrassment at being caught in that position.

It was only when she reached the kitchen and hid around the corner so that she couldn't be seen that she dropped her head into her hands, groaning loudly as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She couldn't tell if she was more ashamed at being caught in such an intimate position with Fred, or annoyed that his twin had shown up and interrupted it. She sighed, dragging her hand down her face and looking around the kitchen. She couldn't deny that last night, in his arms, had provided the most solid, dreamless sleep she had experienced in a very long time. Even his potion didn't aid her to sleep as peacefully as his company had seemed to. She had awoken feeling entirely refreshed and, even if she was hesitant to admit this to herself, she had enjoyed waking up wrapped up in his arms. It felt like home, more so than her own flat and it had caused a warmth to fill her that she hadn't expected. She had briefly allowed herself to imagine it as a regular, normal thing between them but she knew that there was little hope of that. The fact that he had stayed with her and looked after her was more than he owed her and she was incredibly grateful for his efforts and glad to have experienced waking up beside him, even if it would be the only time. At least she knew what that felt like.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly poked her head around the corner and looked through into the bedroom. The twins were standing at the end of his bed and Fred seemed to be filling George in on the events of the previous day. She watched as George sighed, shaking his head and dragging his hand through his hair before his eyes moved in her direction and she pulled back a little too quickly, wincing as the muscles in her neck strained. Pushing herself to her feet, she moved to the cupboards and began pulling down the necessary items to prepare coffee for them, letting the kettle boil as she chanced occasional glances into Fred's bedroom. She smiled shyly at George when he caught her spying, grinning back at her in a way that made her want to hex him, before she filled up the three cups and put them on a tray. Careful not to spill any, she carried the tray through to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser opposite Fred's bed before passing a cup to Fred, who smiled softly as he took it. She slapped George's hand when he tried to pick one up and he looked at her with mock hurt in his eyes, making her snort before she rolled her eyes and let him take his drink. After she had picked up the third cup and taken a sip, she bounced on her heels as the three of them stood in a strange, awkwardly silent triangle.

"So…" George said, breaking the silence and Hermione raised her eyebrow in question as she wondered where he was going to lead the conversation, "Fred said you visited Hogwarts."

"Yes," Hermione nodded, smiling reassuringly at Fred when he groaned as though he hadn't wanted George to let on that he knew, "it did not go well."

"I haven't been back either, you know," George muttered, nodding when she frowned at him over her cup, "I'm impressed you got as far as you did, I think I'd run before I even got through the doors."

"That's… Reassuring," Hermione snorted, shaking her head at his attempt to make her feel better about her reaction to being back there, "I don't know how Harry and Neville do it, or McGonagall for that matter."

"Harry struggled to start with," Fred sighed, smiling down at her before nodding in the direction of the living room, "used to have horrible nightmares, didn't he George."

"Yeah," George agreed, frowning as she and Fred sat next to each other on the sofa and he took up residence in the armchair, "could hear his screams from every inch of the Burrow at weekends."

"He stayed at the Burrow?" Hermione asked, eyebrows halfway up her forehead and Fred snorted as he nodded, "I would have thought he would stay at Hogwarts, being a Professor."

"He said he didn't want to be there any more than he needed to be," George informed her and she nodded her understanding, "it was only after he started up with Luna that he stopped coming home so much."

"I guess they started making better memories," Fred smirked, waggling his own eyebrows at his twin and Hermione gasped, slapping the back of her hand against his chest gently to show her displeasure at the conversation topic and he laughed, catching her hand in his and holding it in his lap as he looked at her, "look, I'm just saying that a good witch can erase a lot of bad memories."

"Cheers to that," George smirked, eyes flicking to their hands together in Fred's lap and Hermione blushed, pulling her hand back to cup her coffee, "anyway, how's old McGonagall?"

"She was certainly happy to see Fred," Hermione smirked, laughing when Fred groaned and covered his face in embarrassment, "gave him a big ol' hug and everything."

"No!" laughed George and Fred glared at him when he joined Hermione in laughing, "kept that lovely little tidbit to yourself, didn't you Freddie."

"She hugged Hermione too…" Fred muttered, making the other two laugh more loudly.

"Yeah but that's expected!" George chortled, shaking his head with mirth before taking a sip of his coffee and Hermione grinned as Fred looked at her over his cup when he did the same, "where did you put your hands?"

"I kinda-"

"He flailed around like an octopus," Hermione giggled, putting her coffee cup on the coffee table to re-enact the moment before she rested one hand on Fred's knee in reassurance that she was only poking fun, "it was cute."

Conversation continued in the same jovial, relaxed manner for the next hour and by the time George stood to leave, Hermione felt far happier than she could remember being in years. Being with Fred alone made her feel calm, peace and happiness. Being with the two of them left her feeling so utterly normal, amused and somehow lighter. It felt like being around family, which she supposed they were; free to joke about each other without fear of judgement or repercussions, inherently knowing the things that could and couldn't be made fun of and enjoying the time without pressure to act in a certain way or do anything special. She hugged George tightly before he left, thanking him for helping her to feel better about things. He had hugged her back just as tightly and told her to be around more often. When they were alone in the flat, she and Fred settled in next to each other on the sofa and she absently rested her head on his shoulder, tilting her head to smile up at him.

"You doing okay?" he asked, looking down at her and she just smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and her smile turned to a grin when he blushed, "good."

"Fancy a walk?" she asked and he frowned, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"A walk?" he repeated, shocked at the suggestion and she nodded, "sure, we can go for a walk. Where did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking," she muttered, turning her eyes to look out of the windows, "we could take a stroll down Diagon Alley?"

"Are you sure?" he asked and she chuckled, nodding, "you're not going to pass out on me again?"

"No, Fred, I promise to maintain complete consciousness the entire time," she laughed brightly, lifting her hand to try and smooth down a hair that insisted on poking directly outwards from his head, "I just think it might be good, you know? Get back out there. Or try, anyway."

"If you're sure…" he sighed, though his smile showed his pride.

She gave him a quick hug before flooing back to her own flat and rushing into her bedroom to change out of the clothes she had slept in the night before. She couldn't help but notice all the small moments of affection between herself and Fred, all of the small touches and the kisses he dropped on her head whenever he greeted her. George had been right, to an extent. They had been cuddling in bed, though it hadn't been as intimate as she would have previously dared to hope and they had both been honest when they tried to assure him that he hadn't been what it looked like. As she stripped out of yesterday's clothes and pulled open her wardrobe door, though, Hermione felt a small spark of hope that she couldn't bring herself to extinguish. The more she thought about it, the more the small acts of affection between them seemed different to the acts of affection he would show Ginny, for example. The ones that she returned were certainly different from any she had ever shown Harry, or even Ron. Thinking about it now, the small touches and absentminded hand holding as they sat together were far more reminiscent of those her parents had shared. Dare she allow herself to hope that there may be more between them? Dare she allow herself to open herself up to the feelings she had been trying to keep hidden? Deciding that this was something perhaps best discussed with Ginny, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind and pulled a dress from her wardrobe, pulling it over her head.

The deep red cotton of the dress hugged her curves and pulled her in at the waist. The main part of the dress, which hung just above her knees, held no ruffles or details and the simple style gave a sleek appearance that matched her smooth, sleek hair. The sleeves of the dress were made of floral lace in the same colour as the cotton and ended in slightly flared sleeves that hung over her hands. In an attempt to avoid the chill around her legs, she pulled an opaque pair of black tights from her drawer and pulled them on before standing in front of the mirror that hung inside of her wardrobe door. Turning left and right to make sure that she hadn't accidentally tucked the back of her dress into her tights, she nodded to herself and returned to the living room, pulling her shoes on before she stepped into the fireplace and span away to Fred's flat, ready for her first appearance in Wizarding public since he had carried her home all those months before.