Take It Out on Me

Epilogue One

The next time that Hermione Granger sees Fred Weasley after calling it quits on their arrangement is eight weeks later at Charlie's birthday party. She's skipped the usual Sunday suppers ever since removing herself for the last time from Fred's bed because… well, she's avoiding him, that's why, but she refuses to miss Charlie's first time home in four months. She absolutely doesn't want to see Fred, but Charlie is a friend and it's important to Hermione that she's there to celebrate with him.

"Charlie!" Hermione cheers as the birthday celebrant makes his way through the crowd of Weasleys and Weasley-adjacent guests, giving hugs– and in Percy's case, a firm handshake– to each member of his family before pausing in front of Hermione.

Hermione breathes in the scent of fresh grass as she squeezes Charlie tight in greeting, smiling what might be her first genuine smile in months.

"Hey, Hermione, glad you could make it," Charlie says, his voice light and happy.

"I wouldn't have missed this," Hermione replies earnestly. She might have fractured relationships with a few Weasleys at the moment, but Charlie isn't one of them. He shouldn't have to pay for the sins of his brothers.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as it actually happens) for Hermione, when Charlie pulls back from their hug and heads off toward the kitchen to follow Mrs. Weasley, she is immediately shanghaied by one red-head whom she doesn't have any sort of tension with at the moment. Ginny links her arm with Hermione's and purposefully, but subtly, tugs her toward the back garden.

"So? How are you doing?" Ginny asks, her tone leading as the two women begin to walk around the perimeter of the yard.

Hermione laughs lightly, looking up to the stars as if they hold the answers.

"It's been ten minutes, Gin. Ask me again in an hour."

Ginny pinches Hermione's bicep between her thumb and forefinger, clearly indicating that that answer was insufficient in some way.

"Fine. How is therapy going?"

Hermione tips her head from side to side, contemplating.

"Well, I think. I go twice a week for an hour each time. My Healer is kind. She listens. I wanted so badly for her to judge me or tell me that I'm a terrible person for cheating on my boyfriend with his brother. She didn't, of course. We talk about the War, about Ron and about Fred. Sometimes I just complain about work."

Ginny unlinks her arm from Hermione's and instead slings it around her shoulders.

"'Mione, we've been over this," Ginny sighs. "What you did was wrong, but we're all entitled to a bit of poor decision-making every now and again. Personally, I wouldn't recommend shagging any of my brothers, but I'm clearly biased against them."

Ginny shivers in apparent disgust, but it makes Hermione laugh lightly.

Hermione had been encouraged to tell Ginny about her affair with Fred, about her constant fighting with Ron and her confrontation with George after her second week of therapy. It had been an uncomfortable conversation, but Hermione truly felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders as soon as she got the words out.

"Who are you most worried about seeing tonight?" Ginny asks, frustratingly. "I have a guess, but let's see if I'm right, shall we?"

Hermione doesn't really have to think about her answer. That part is easy.

"Fred."

Ginny nods, clearly having expected that response.

"And why do you think that is?"

Hermione bites her bottom lip. She has a definitive answer to Ginny's query, but she's not entirely sure that the red-headed witch would want to hear it.

"He was a great distraction," Hermione compromises, deciding not to go into further detail about his so-called greatness– at least, not to his sister. "He looked haunted when I saw him last. I'm doing better, but I don't know if he is. Part of me wants to talk to him and see how he's doing, but the rest of me knows that that's a disaster waiting to happen."

Ginny is silent for a moment, presumably thinking about her response before she speaks– a practice previously unseen in one Ginny Weasley.

"What sort of disaster, do you think?" Ginny wonders. "Do you think that you would fight with him? Do you think that you would relapse?"

Hermione huffs a heavy, dramatic breath.

"Both, probably, but I can't keep doing the same things and expecting different results. If he's not going to work on his own issues, we'll just end up back where we were before."

Ginny nods, acknowledging that she's still listening as she and Hermione begin their return walk back to the Burrow.

"Can I ask you something, 'Mione? It's… personal."

Hermione turns her head and raises an eyebrow at her friend. Since when has Ginny Weasley ever cared about boundaries? Regardless, Hermione nods in assent and waits for Ginny's question.

"Do you have… feelings for Fred? More than just lust, anyway?"

Hermione's eyes widen. What could possibly have given Ginny that idea?

"No, absolutely not. I care about him and I know him, but I'm not like, secretly pining for him or anything. We were good together for what it was, but I wasn't special to him, nor was he to me. We were a means to an end for one another, that's all."

Ginny nods, but in an uncharacteristic twist, she doesn't respond. She stays silent and leads Hermione back to the door which leads from the garden into the kitchen, evidently ready to rejoin the festivities and end this particular conversation.

Supper goes by fairly painlessly– mostly anyway. Hermione sits between Harry and Percy, with whom she has a decent, if somewhat boring conversation about his work in the Department of Magical Transportation. The only hiccup in the seating arrangement is that she is seated directly across from Fred, George and Angelina.

Midway though dessert– Charlie's three-tiered chocolate birthday cake– Hermione's attention, which has been very pointedly not on the man across from her, is drawn directly to him. Underneath the table, something kicks Hermione's shin.

Hermione's head whips up, eyes narrowed at the something which is evidently trying to gain her focus.

Almost imperceptibly, Fred's head tips– an indication to follow him. Hermione scoffs under her breath and shakes her head, mouthing 'no' without hesitation.

Fred subtly rolls his eyes before his expression hardens. He tips his head again.

"After cake," he mouths, then flicks his eyes behind her in the direction of the infamous pantry. "Pantry."

Hermione's face must show clearly her disinterest because Fred doesn't stop. Rather, he insists further.

"Talk," he mouths again.

Hermione huffs, but finally nods her assent. He's not going to give up– of this, she is absolutely certain. Fred Weasley is nothing if not stubborn and persistent.

Hermione barely touches the remainder of her cake, the anxious pit in her stomach taking up every centimeter of available space and leaving no room for anything else.

Fred waits a handful of minutes after dessert finishes and after everyone heads into the sitting room in order to give Charlie his gifts to approach Hermione.

"I just want to talk, I swear," he whispers from behind her as she clears her plate and stacks it into the sink alongside the ones magically washing themselves.

"So talk," Hermione states, crossing her arms as she turns to face him.

"Privately," he clarifies, holding up his hands as if to say that he comes in peace. "I won't try anything, I promise. That's not what this is about."

Hermione bites her bottom lip. What Fred doesn't realize is that it's not entirely him that she's worried about.

Sighing, Hermione nods once and side-steps Fred, glancing around to confirm that they are alone before sneaking into Mrs. Weasley's pantry. Fred follows her in and shuts the door behind himself quietly.

"I just want to know how you are. It's weird not seeing you, even just for Sunday suppers. You haven't been coming anymore. Because of me?"

Hermione frowns. This conversation was probably inevitable and she should've expected that it would happen soon, but now she resigns herself to knowing that it's actually happening now.

"Because of you– and Ron and George," Hermione replies honestly. Fred might be the main reason why she hasn't been coming to Weasley gatherings, but he isn't the only reason.

Fred's eyebrows scrunch together and his head cocks to the side.

"Why George?" he asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

Hermione rolls her eyes. Right. He could forget because he wasn't there, but she was.

"He told me to stop sleeping with you and I didn't– or, well, I did eventually, but not when he expected me to," she explains. "I presume that he knows that, so I've been avoiding him too."

Fred seems to think for a moment, leaning back against the pantry door before he responds.

"He doesn't know. As far as George is concerned, we stopped after he talked to you."

Hermione doesn't know how to respond to that. As far as she knows, the only thing that has ever been a secret between the Weasley twins is her.

"He doesn't need to know everything– not about this, not about you."

Hermione swallows hard, fiddling with the hem of her jumper as she tries to think of what to say next. Fred was the one who wanted to talk, but she can't deny that she probably has some questions and confessions of her own to make.

"You look great, Hermione. H-how are you doing?"

Hermione sighs again. She thinks for a moment, deciding then that this conversation is probably going to take a while. She sits down on the floor of the pantry and crosses her legs. Fred quickly follows suit, sitting diagonally from her with his legs stretched out.

"I started seeing a Mind Healer. The day that I ended things with you, actually," Hermione confesses. She knows that she doesn't have to tell Fred any of this, but maybe telling him about her experience might encourage him to seek help for himself. "She's nice. She mostly just listens, but I think talking about everything that I've been through has been helping."

Fred smiles a half-smile and looks briefly down at his hands before speaking again.

"Did– does she know about me?" he asks, before his back straightens abruptly. "Not that– I– you have far more important things to discuss with your therapist than shagging me."

Hermione kicks at his foot with her own with a gentle tap.

"She knows about you. She knows everything– I think, anyway. We spent an entire session talking about you. The session before that was Ron, which of course, led into you."

Fred nods, rolling his shoulders back and nudging Hermione's foot again with his own.

"What did you tell her?" Fred asks with a smirk, though it lacks any of its usual heat.

Hermione laughs lightly, almost grateful for the reprieve from the serious.

"That you have some incredibly good benefits, but that I knew that distracting myself with an orgasm or two wasn't going to heal anything."

Fred scoffs playfully, crossing his arms over his chest.

"One or two?" he needles, raising an eyebrow at her meaningfully.

Hermione rolls her eyes and kicks his foot with a bit more force.

"Don't start," she chuckles in spite of the smile tugging at her lips. "You don't need me to tell you what you already know."

Fred shrugs, his cheek dimpling as he smiles brightly.

"Couldn't hurt, though. It's always nice to hear when one's talents are appreciated," Fred beams, and Hermione wants to be annoyed, but really, she's actually enjoying talking to him. "But– you're doing okay? Better than before?"

Hermione nods without hesitation.

"I am, actually. I have a lot to work through, obviously, but it really does help."

Fred is silent for a moment, which Hermione takes as a chance to turn his own question around on him.

"And you?" Hermione asks, touching his foot with her own again, this time leaving it there in an act of solidarity. "How are you?"

Fred smiles a shy smile, the likes of which Hermione has never seen on his face before. After everything that she and Fred have done together, she's not sure what he could possibly be shy about now.

"I'm–," Fred pauses, seemingly considering his words before he says them. "Listen, I swore everyone to secrecy. It's been hard to keep it from you, but I wanted to wait– to make sure that it stuck."

Hermione opens her mouth to ask what it is that Fred is on about when he speaks again.

"As of today, I've been sober for thirty-two days."

Hermione's hands fly to her mouth in surprise.

"Fred! That's amazing!" she breathes, meeting Fred's eye seriously.

Fred dips his head in acknowledgement and runs his palms along his jeans, as if in discomfort.

"It's a start. It's been hard. Most days, I don't think I'm going to make it through without relapsing. But I guess if I've done it for thirty-two days so far, I can keep it going, right?"

Hermione almost doesn't know what to say in response. She's so, so proud of Fred, but she doesn't know how to even begin to express that to him.

"Hermione… Can– can we, I don't know, try to be friends?" Fred asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "We have an unignorable history, I know, but I do care about you."

Hermione smiles a half-smile at Fred and reaches to place her hand on his knee.

"Of course we can. I care about you too– and I'm really proud of you, Fred. I feel like we should celebrate kicking our bad habits."

Fred smirks, all prior discomfort seemingly evaporated.

"Interested in reliving my best memory from inside this pantry?" Fred asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively with a beaming smile on his face.

Hermione rolls her eyes, shoving at his knee with a laugh.

"Better not. You were one of my bad habits, remember?" Hermione chuckles, standing from her spot on the floor.

Hermione reaches down to offer a hand to help Fred up, expecting that it might be difficult for him to get up on his own after his leg injury. He grasps her hands in his and stands slowly with a grateful smile, leaning most of his weight on his right leg until he is upright.

Rather than letting go of Hermione, he wraps his arms around her and hugs her to his chest tightly.

"We're going to be alright, aren't we?" he asks into her hair, arms still wrapped around her.

Hermione nods against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent of fairy floss and gunpowder.

"Yeah. I think we are."

Hermione steps out of the pantry first, Fred not far behind if the way that he crashes into her when she stops short is any indication.

Fred catches himself with his hands on her waist, but the familiarity with which he touches her is a dead giveaway to the others in the room that their relationship is more than strictly platonic.

Hermione sees Ginny first. The red-headed witch's eyebrow is raised damningly as she stands beside her wide-eyed fiancé. Behind Harry is an especially displeased-looking George Weasley with arms crossed over his chest in disapproval. Mrs. Weasley stands beside him with her mouth agape and her hand over her heart.

Fred snorts a laugh from behind Hermione and leans down to whisper in her ear.

"Oh, sure, now they notice us sneaking off," he laughs, his breath ghosting over Hermione's ear. He stands back up to his full height before speaking again, this time to the room at large. "Don't look at me. I had my pants on the whole time… this time."

Hermione scoffs in surprise, turning in place and swatting Fred's chest playfully as a laugh bubbles up out of her chest.

Fred wraps an arm around Hermione, banding his forearm over her collarbones and tugging her out of the kitchen and into the hallway behind the stairs. Hermione goes along with him with ease, laughing as she does and breaks out of his hold when they are a safe distance away from the handful of Weasleys– and Harry– who just caught them sneaking out of the pantry together.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you only absolved yourself with your excuse– threw me right under the metaphorical bus, even though I was also fully clothed the whole time," Hermione points out, though her voice is light. Despite the implication, she actually finds this whole situation to be rather funny. "And it's not like there's nothing that we could've done while still keeping your pants on, Fred."

Fred laughs in return and leans his shoulder against the wall beside Hermione.

"Oh, I know. I'm counting on them thinking that. Better that they think I'm a generous lover who would selflessly get you off and accept nothing in return than the alternative."

Hermione shoves at his chest again, but there's no force behind it. Fred catches her wrist and holds it hostage with a bright smile.

"You're terrible– and George is going to have my head the minute he can get me alone," Hermione frowns. "But if you absolutely need a reference as to your generosity, feel free to put me down. I've never had any complaints."

Fred sucks his canine and his fingers tighten on her wrist as his eyes meet Hermione's in a heated stare.

"Don't worry about George. I'll explain it to him later," Fred states, inching closer to Hermione. "Hermione, if you don't want me to kiss you right now, step back. I want to– so badly, but I won't, not if you don't want that."

Hermione bites her bottom lip, maintaining eye contact with Fred and decidedly not stepping back.

She knows that she shouldn't. It's a terrible idea– possibly the worst that she's ever had.

"M-maybe just once. Maybe we deserve a better goodbye," she whispers, raising her free hand and placing it on Fred's chest.

In an unexpected twist, Fred doesn't lean in any further. He doesn't kiss her like he said that he would. He pauses.

"I didn't let you say goodbye. I regretted it as soon as I made it down the stairs, but I promised to give you privacy," he frowns, caressing the palm of her hand with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I was… in a bad place then and you leaving just felt like a kick to the shins. I took it out on you and I shouldn't have."

The corner of Hermione's lips tip downward.

"Fred, you have actual scars from me taking my anger out on you. You don't owe me an apology, but if you insist, we can call it square. We've both done things that we're not proud of."

Naturally, because Fred Weasley can't maintain a serious composure for long, he cracks a smile.

"Hey, I meant it when I said you can scratch me anytime. That wasn't the firewhiskey talking," he says, his tone suggestive. Hermione raises an eyebrow at him. "Don't look at me like that. We all have our kinks. We're a no-judgement zone, remember?"

Hermione breathes a soft laugh, grateful for Fred's easy way of leveling her out.

"So, does it count as a goodbye kiss if we're going to be friends now?" Hermione wonders, tilting her head to the side in thought.

Fred quirks a half-smile and shrugs his shoulders.

"Maybe it's the signal of closing a chapter– the chapter where kissing would lead to more. Maybe I just want to kiss you and don't care what excuse I have to use to do it."

What was it that Ginny said earlier? That everyone is entitled to some poor decision-making every now and again? Hermione bites her bottom lip for a fraction of a second before she stands on her toes and pauses with her lips just a hairsbreadth from Fred's.

"To closing a chapter?" Hermione breathes, curling her fingers into Fred's t-shirt in the same moment as he wraps his free arm around her waist.

"To closing a chapter," Fred agrees.

Hermione isn't sure who kisses who first, but it doesn't really matter when Fred's lips are on hers. Part of Hermione had always wondered if the insane chemistry that she had felt with Fred was due to his alcohol consumption and her emotion-fueled lust, but after talking to and kissing him tonight, she's sure that that wasn't all that it was.

Hermione is also pretty sure that 'goodbye' kisses aren't supposed to last for longer than a second or two. They're also probably not meant to include tongue or wandering hands, either, but she also supposes that old habits die hard on occasion.

Even still, Hermione savors it.

Fred releases Hermione's wrist and raises his newly freed hand up to cup her chin, holding her in place as his lips move in tandem with hers. He feels good against her– strong and warm and safe. His lips are soft and for once, they don't taste like firewhiskey. Hermione thinks that the lingering taste of chocolate cake and sugary frosting might even be more addictive, though.

She wasn't sure who kissed who first, but she does know that it's her who pulls back. She leans her forehead against his, arms still around him and standing on her toes.

"So," Hermione breathes, talking as a distraction to keep herself from kissing him again.

"So."

Hermione traces Fred's collarbone over his shirt with her index finger as he hooks his thumb through the back belt loop on her jeans.

"Friends?" she asks, her lips almost touching his.

Fred nods in agreement, the remaining four fingers on his right left hand practically gripping her bum. Hermione is sure that she should probably care more about that than she does.

"Friends."

"Means to an end, my arse," Ginny Weasley scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as she and Hermione stand in the middle of her childhood bedroom in the Burrow where the aforementioned red-headed witch has dragged Hermione to toward the end of Charlie's birthday celebration.

Hermione sighs and collapses back into Ginny's old bed, her legs dangling off of the edge at the knee as she stares at the ceiling.

"I swear, Gin. We didn't do anything in the pantry– this time. We talked."

Ginny lies down beside Hermione, shoulder-to-shoulder with the witch next to her.

"This time?"

So, Hermione might've told Ginny that she was sleeping with Fred for a few months, but she managed to keep the details of those encounters fairly close to the vest. Ginny didn't ask too many questions, presumably because the man in question was her brother, but regardless of the reason, Hermione was grateful not to have to detail her sexual experiences to the witch who would absolutely have asked for them if it wasn't her brother that they were talking about.

"Do you really want to know?" Hermione asks, raising an eyebrow at Ginny, though she doesn't see it.

"No," Ginny replies immediately before rethinking her response. "Yes. No– yes. I want to know. I get my food from there sometimes and need to know if there's anything that I should avoid."

Hermione chuckles softly and shakes her head to herself.

"It was during one of the Sunday suppers– the one right after Ron and I officially broke up. Fred was drunk and horny and I was angry at Ron. We snuck off into the pantry. We were gone for a while. I'm surprised nobody noticed it then."

Hermione pauses for a moment, unsure if that's enough information for Ginny or if she has any further questions.

"Is that enough or do you want actual details?" Hermione asks, a playful lilt in her voice.

Ginny sighs dramatically, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"If it was anyone other than my brother, I would want all of the details. So, I'm just going to pretend that you're talking about someone else. Go on."

Hermione bites her bottom lip, memories flooding back to her in a barrage of images of lips and teeth and tongues and hands. Her cheeks flush with heat and she finds herself grateful that Ginny can't really see her face from this angle.

"He instigated it, which at the time, was rare. He'd never come to me before. I found out what the change in routine was about later, but we snuck into the pantry. He was drunk, but not completely out of it. He was just… so desperate. He said that he needed me. It was never really like that before, so I knew that something was different."

Hermione tries to hide her short laugh at the reminder of what exactly it was that had made Fred so unable to wait.

"Your brother is a thief, just so you know. I don't know if he still has them, but he used to keep a couple of pairs of my knickers in his bedside table drawer. He had one of them in his pocket that night, wrapped around his hand. I guess that did it for him because he was unlike I'd ever seen him before. We were quick by our standards, but still, you know, shagging against your mum's soup shelves."

Ginny gasps.

"Hermione!" she scolds, though there's no actual harshness in her tone. Her poorly concealed laughter is more at the forefront than her distaste. "How on earth did you manage to trap yourself alone in that room with him again and think about anything else?"

Hermione returns Ginny's laughter, scrubbing her hands down her face.

"I didn't. He was thinking about it too. He mentioned it– but we were having a serious conversation, so I suppose that's why we were able to keep our clothes on this time. We did snog a little after we left the kitchen, but that doesn't count."

Ginny bolts upright, her eyes wide as she yelps, "What?!"

Hermione doesn't respond right away. She hadn't intended on telling Ginny that detail. A part of her had wanted to keep that moment between her and Fred. She supposes that she can't unring the bell now, though.

"It was like a goodbye. Or– not a goodbye, really. We're going to try to be friends."

Ginny hums a knowing sort of sound as she lies back down.

"He told you, didn't he?" she asks. "About his sobriety?"

Hermione nods before remembering that Ginny can't see her.

"I'm really proud of him. We're both working on our bad habits. I've yet to determine if trying to be friends is a good idea or not for both of us. He was my bad habit, and I was his. Great sex aside, we might be more bad for each other than we are good."

Ginny seems to think for a moment before replying.

"It could go either way, I reckon, but you two clearly have a strong connection. Maybe you can help each other through– like accountability partners or something. Fred has George to help with his drinking, but it probably couldn't hurt to have someone who knows what it's like to talk to when things get hard."

Hermione shrugs, unsure.

"Do you think that he's been with anyone since me?" Hermione asks, mostly to herself. She nearly kicks herself when she asks because that's not the sort of question that someone who is moving on would ask, but she can't help but wonder.

"I doubt it. Not if he's snogging you the first chance that he gets," Ginny laughs. "I really hate myself for even asking this, but did it feel different? Kissing sober-Fred versus alcoholic-Fred, I mean? He just seems so different that I can't imagine him doing anything the same way ever again."

Hermione doesn't even have to think about her response. The difference had been worlds apart.

"Definitely. He's always been a great kisser, but that wasn't all that common for us. There were plenty of times when we had sex but didn't kiss– on the mouth, anyway. Part of me wished that we'd done more snogging before I called it quits, but that's not what it was about for us," Hermione admits, not entirely sure why she's discussing any of this with Ginny, but yet, still grateful for the opportunity to talk about it to someone other than her Healer. "Today was maybe a bit more… controlled? We were both trying not to let it go too far, I think– but gods, it was intense. Brain-meltingly good."

Ginny hums a non-committal noise, indicating to Hermione that she heard her.

"Just so we're clear, you haven't shagged any more of my brothers, right?"

Hermione laughs a breathy, self-deprecating laugh.

"Nope. Just the two. That's more than enough red-heads for me, thanks."

"Hermione? Can we talk?"

Hermione turns to her left where the voice calling her name originates from, her eyebrows raising into her hairline when she comes face-to-face with George Weasley.

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest, still feeling defensive based on their previous conversation a few months back. In spite of that, though, she nods.

"Outside, maybe?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets and tipping his head toward the back door of the Burrow.

Hermione nods again, gesturing for George to lead the way and following behind him when he does.

"I owe you an apology," he begins, much to Hermione's surprise. "I care about my brother and I just wanted him to get better. I blamed you for his problems and that wasn't fair. He was a wreck long before you happened. He needed to get sober and to stop numbing the pain, but it wasn't your fault. You were both hurting and me coming down so hard on you and him weren't my finest moments. I'm sorry."

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but George holds up a hand, indicating to her that he isn't quite finished.

"Fred told me that nothing happened in the pantry earlier. I was just worried when I saw the two of you stumbling out of there together that he would relapse if you two got too close again– but I don't think that he will. He's been sober for over a month, but I haven't seen him smile like that in years. I think– I think that you're good for him."

Hermione frowns. She doesn't know much about alcoholics, but she does know that they're not supposed to go back to old triggers or put themselves into volatile situations, lest they fall off the wagon. She's not going to thrust a bottle of firewhiskey into his palm, but it probably isn't a great idea to start shagging him again, either.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not encouraging you to start sleeping together again, but I think that you two get each other on a level that the rest of us don't. He said that you two decided to be friends. You don't need my approval, but you have it anyway."

Hermione nods, unsure of what exactly she's supposed to say. Eventually, she decides on nothing.

"I hope– I hope that I see you around. Here or at the shop or– our flat is always open to you. Don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"Fred, I'm– I'm not sure that that's a great idea," Hermione frowns, genuinely disappointed in having to decline his offer.

"It's a film, Hermione, not a marriage proposal. I know that you love Muggle films and I am offering to watch one with you tonight. We can sit on opposite sides of the sofa like a couple of third years. I can ask George and Angelina to chaperone if you'll be too tempted."

Hermione shakes her head on a laugh.

"We don't need a chaperone… I don't think."

Fred steps closer to Hermione. He's not touching her, but now he has to look down to maintain eye contact with her.

"One film," Hermione finally agrees, a small smile tugging at her lips. "At mine. I don't need George hovering. I'm not sure what's worse, him practically calling me a slut or insisting that you and I are good for each other as friends."

"Deal," Fred laughs, his cheek dimpling again as he gestures for Hermione to head through the floo first.

Hermione lands in her own sitting room just a minute or two before Fred follows and it belatedly occurs to her that she is now alone with Fred Weasley in her flat. They've never been to her flat together before.

After breaking up with Ron, Hermione managed to find her own flat in Muggle London for a decent price and the only people who have been over to visit have been Harry and Ginny. She hadn't ever anticipated having Fred over, especially. She's not entirely sure how she feels about being in her own little oasis with him in particular.

"So, this is your new flat?" Fred asks as he dusts soot off of his shoulders and steps out of the hearth.

"Well, I've been here for a while now, but yes. It's small, but I like it," she replies, biting her bottom lip. "Would you like a tour?"

Hermione tucks her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans, admittedly a bit unsure of how to act in this moment.

"I'd love a tour," Fred replies, then strangely, takes a seat on the sofa in front of Hermione's television. "But I think that seeing your bedroom right now would be one of those unnecessary temptations that we discussed."

Hermione nods in complete agreement.

"You're right," she concurs, sitting down on the sofa– on the opposite side from Fred– and reaches for the television clicker on her coffee table. "What sort of mood are you in?"

Hermione had been referring to his preference for a film, but the heavy exhale from her right indicates to her that Fred's immediate response to that question wasn't that he was thinking about watching a comedy.

"Anything. Whatever will distract me from coming over there to you," Fred breathes, evidently also feeling as if the temperature in the room has gone up a few degrees. "Sorry. I just– it'll get easier the more time we spend together as friends."

Hermione sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and flicks the channel until she finds an old animated children's movie to put on. She bloody well hopes that it gets easier– and fast.

"You're telling me that that was a children's film?" Fred gasps, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "Fratricide, orphaned children, lion sex and attempted murder are supposed to be appropriate viewing material for children?"

Hermione laughs lightly, tucking her feet up under herself on the sofa.

"I'm not even sure it's the worst of its kind. There's another one where a woman falls in love with a man who's basically a werewolf without the monthly transformations. I have a soft spot in my heart for that one, but it's still a bit bizarre if I think about it for too long," Hermione explains, laying her head down on the back of the sofa and smiling at Fred warmly.

Hermione yawns, and adjusts herself to be more comfortable, even in her still-sitting position.

"Tired?" Fred asks, though the answer to that question must be obvious if he's even asking it.

Hermione nods.

"Do you want me to go?" Fred turns to face Hermione on the sofa completely, still sitting more than an entire cusion's width away from her. "I can get you into bed and head home."

"I don't want you to leave," Hermione whispers, her eyelids fluttering shut. "But you shouldn't stay either."

"No, I shouldn't," Fred agrees. "Not very friendly, that."

Hermione stretches her legs out, the bottom of her feet touching Fred's thigh. She can feel his warmth even through his jeans and her socks.

"Fred?" she asks, barely even flinching when he places his hand over her right ankle. "How do you really feel about me?"

Hermione isn't sure why she asked that. She's been contemplating it since Ginny asked her how she feels about Fred, but she hadn't anticipated asking him the reverse today. She also decidedly doesn't open her eyes because a part of her feels like it would be easier to have this conversation if she can't actually see him.

"I think that you are one of the strongest women I've ever met. You've been through so much and you're still going. You're definitely the smartest person I know, but you don't need me to tell you that. You're funny and honest and stubborn as hell," Fred chuckles, rubbing his thumb against the back of Hermione's ankle.

Hermione smiles a sleepy smile, sighing contentedly at the mini-massage that Fred's thumb is giving to her heel.

"You're beautiful, but that's not an opinion, it's a fact. I'm not sure that I'll ever get the smell of your shampoo out of my head– or my pillowcases, probably," Fred continues, his voice pitched a little lower than it was a moment ago. "You are… unbearably sexy and the memories that I have of being with you will probably be enough to sustain me for years to come."

Hermione thinks that she might bite through her bottom lip if she spends any more time around Fred, but she might be okay with the sacrifice if he keeps talking to her like that.

"Don't stop," Hermione breathes and she's not sure if she's referring to him massaging her foot or the way that he's talking to her, but either way, the answer is the same.

Fred scoots a bit closer to Hermione on the sofa, draping her legs over his lap.

"Hermione, if I don't stop now, then I won't be able to. Let me help you into bed and I'll see you tomorrow– if you want."

Hermione nods tiredly, reaching her arms out blindly, hoping that Fred will carry her because she's not sure if she could keep herself upright if she tried right now.

Fred takes her silent direction, looping one arm underneath her knees and wrapping the other around her waist. He cautiously stands from the sofa and cradles Hermione against his chest, resting his chin atop her head.

"Last room on the left," Hermione mumbles, her head lulling against Fred's chest.

Fred walks slowly, carefully down the hall and nudges the door to Hermione's bedroom open with his left foot. He carries her over to her bed and lies her down with her head against her satin pillowcase.

"Where can I find something for you to sleep in?" Fred asks, brushing a rogue curl off of Hermione's forehead. "You can't sleep in jeans."

"Bottom drawer," Hermione replies with her face somewhat squished against her pillow. Absently, she unbuttons and unzips her jeans, shimmying out of them and kicking them to the foot of her bed before removing her jumper and condemning it to the same fate as her jeans. "Don't steal any of my underwear while you're in there."

Hermione hears a chuckle and then the sound of an old wooden drawer being creaked open. She hears the rustle of some of the fabric within before Fred evidently finds something which he deems sufficient for Hermione to sleep in.

Hermione's eyes are still closed, but she knows the exact moment when Fred turns around by the quiet groan which rumbles in his chest.

"Oh, not fair," Fred whines. "You're practically naked, Hermione. I can't decide if I want to give you your pajamas or just stand here and pretend that I didn't find anything."

Hermione laughs lightly. She knows that this isn't exactly nice to do to her friend who is being incredibly kind in helping her out right now, but she also can't deny that she's enjoying his reaction to her. It's nice to know that even after a two month hiatus, that she's still got it.

"Well, I still need to take my bra off, so unless you want to see my chest, then you should at least hand me a shirt," she states, a smile in her voice as she finally opens her eyes and looks at him.

Fred raises an eyebrow at her.

"Is that a trick question?"

Hermione laughs lightly and swings her legs around, standing from her bed and stepping up almost toe-to-toe with him. In Fred's hand is a bundle of clothes, a piece of which she recognizes as an old t-shirt that her parents brought back for her from a trip they took to Paris before the War. Hermione plucks the t-shirt from Fred's hands and tosses it over her head.

Under her shirt, Hermione unclips her bra and slides the straps down and off of her arms, pulling the garment out from under her shirt and tossing it onto the foot of her bed where the rest of her clothes are.

"You are a very mean woman, did you know that?" Fred breathes, white-knuckling her pajama pants.

Hermione holds her hand out for Fred to pass her the sweatpants in his hand, which he does with only a moment's pause.

Hermione is silent for a moment while she bends over and steps into her sweats, hiking them up and rolling the waistband so that they're not dragging on the floor.

"I'm not trying to tease you, Fred. You can stay if you want, but you know as well as I do that we'll both regret it tomorrow if you do."

Fred sighs and places a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder. Without a word, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the side of her head– a tender gesture in stark contrast to the way that he has kissed and touched her in the not-so-distant past.

"You're right. I'm going to leave now. I'll see you soon?"

Hermione nods her head and steps back from him, strangely proud of them both for being so strong in this moment.

The door above the entrance to the joke shop tinkles above Hermione's head as she steps through.

The minute that Fred left her flat last night, she knew that she owed him an apology for her display. It wasn't kind or fair of her to agree to be friends with him and then strip down to her underwear in front of him. The snogging had been on both of them, but the nudity was all on her. In Fred's own words, 'not very friendly, that'.

By some small miracle, when Hermione searches through the shop, she actually finds Fred both rather easily and before she sees George. She forgave George, of course, and he has conceded to saying that he thinks that she and Fred would be good friends, but even still, she thinks that it's best not to test his patience as it pertains to his twin.

Hermione knocks on the door to the brewing room in the back of the shop where she knows that Fred spends a majority of his time at work. As far as Hermione knows, Verity generally handles the floor and the till, Lee works the floor exclusively, but only on a part-time basis and Fred and George fill in where needed while also handling the inventing, managing stock and creating of the actual products sold. If Hermione's memory serves, she thinks that George tends to handle the more business-y side of the shop and Fred does more of the brewing and creating.

The thought hadn't occurred to her before, but Hermione briefly wonders if Fred's drinking habit had anything to do with his relegation to the storeroom. She thinks that she remembers him always preferring that part of the job, but she imagines that as Fred's drinking– and other habits– got worse, that his performance at the shop might've suffered, too.

Hermione frowns, worried, once again, that by nature of her relationship to Fred, if she had made his problems worse.

"Come in," Fred's voice comes through the closed door, which Hermione pushes open now with his permission. "Is everything alright, Verity?"

Fred hasn't looked up at her– obviously, or he would know that it isn't Verity standing before him. Rather, he stands hunched over a cauldron, stirring his potion in a counterclockwise motion. His lips are moving as if he is counting rotations, but no sound comes out. Hermione waits until he finishes his counting before she speaks.

"She was at the till when I came in– she seemed fine," Hermione replies with a lilt in her voice. "Hermione, however, would like a minute, if you have one."

Fred's head finally lifts– quickly, at that. He casts what Hermione assumes is a quick stasis charm over his potion, before rounding his brewing table and leaning against the front of it with a smile.

"For you? Always."

Hermione smiles easily. In spite of their history, Hermione will always care about Fred– and she can't deny that he's charming, perhaps dangerously so if her actions last night are any indication.

"I wanted to apologize to you… for last night," Hermione frowns, jumping right into the deep end. She figures that she would rather not dawdle and get her apology out there as quickly as possible, lest she lose her nerve.

Fred's head cocks to the side and his eyes narrow in confusion.

"Last night?"

Hermione bites her bottom lip, glancing over her shoulder when her awareness is brought back to the hum of conversation happening just down the hall on the main floor of the shop. Hermione closes the door behind her after a moment's debate, in the end deciding that she would rather deal with the temptation of talking about getting naked in Fred's presence with him than the alternative of the entire shop hearing about it.

"When I undressed in front of you. I-I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it. I was tired and I'm comfortable with you, so the thought didn't even occur to me to wait until you'd gone."

To his credit, Fred still doesn't seem to understand why Hermione is apologizing to him for this. Evidently, he hadn't been bothered by it outside of his initial surprise, but that doesn't mean that he isn't still owed an apology.

Fred quirks a half-smile.

"Absolutely no apology necessary, love. I really didn't mind," he shrugs, though his voice betrays just how much he hadn't minded it.

Hermione breathes a laugh, running her fingers through her hair as a means of distracting herself from Fred's stupidly charming smile.

"That's exactly my point. If we're going to be friends, then we need to be friends," Hermione insists, despite her soft laughter. "Friends don't just get naked in front of each other. I've undressed in front of Ginny before, but I don't have a history of shagging her. All I'm saying is that we need to be more careful."

Fred takes a tentative step closer to Hermione and she truly resists the urge to take a mirroring step back. Fred isn't going to hurt her– of that, she is more than sure, but that doesn't mean that she should be in especially close proximity to him while having this particular conversation.

He steps forward again, now only about an arms-width away from him.

"You're right," Fred states, surprising Hermione slightly. "I want to disagree with you, but you're right. We can be friends or we can see each other starkers, but probably not both. Of course, I'm certainly not going to turn down seeing a gorgeous witch in her knickers– you especially– but, and I will deny this if ever asked about it, I think I would like to see what it's like to have you in my life again, not just in my bed."

Hermione smiles a reserved smile.

"Me too."

Hi, friends! Happy Friday! (:

So I decided to upload this chapter and the final epilogue to the same fic as the first chapter just for the sake of simplicity. I didn't want anyone who wanted to read more about this version of Fred & Hermione's story to have to go somewhere else to find it. I hope that that's okay with you all.

Anyway, I hope you've all enjoyed this 'part two' of this fic. The final part will go live next Friday. (:

Thank you, as always, for spending a bit of your time here with me this week. Your continued support truly means the world to me. Thank you.

If you feel so inclined, please leave a review. I love reading your thoughts on my work. (:

See you again next week.