Take It Out on Me
Epilogue Two
"Fred?" Hermione asks, looking to her right at the man on the opposite side of the sofa from her. When he doesn't immediately respond, she pelts him with kernels of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. "Fred."
A piece of popcorn hits Fred's left eyebrow, which finally garners his attention.
"Hmm?" he asks, finally tearing his gaze from the television screen.
Hermione nudges Fred's thigh with her outstretched foot, laughing lightly as he reaches toward the coffee table to pause the movie. She knew that he had been engrossed in it, but she hadn't expected him to care this much about an old animated film.
"Excuse me, but you said that this one is your favorite. Why are you interrupting it?" he wonders, placing a large, warm hand over her foot and quirking an eyebrow at her.
Hermione bites into a piece of popcorn with a loud crunch, partially to distract herself and partially to annoy Fred just a little bit more.
Hermione and Fred have done well with their venture to be friends. Every Friday evening, they meet at Hermione's flat after their respective work days and watch at least one of Hermione's favorite films– and have done for the last six months.
Friendship with Fred has been wonderful. He's kind and funny– of course– and Hermione has found that she genuinely enjoys spending time with him. The only problem with that is that her attraction to him has only strengthened in that time, rather than shift to a more platonic expression.
Instead, now, on top of the fact that she knows how talented he is with various parts of his anatomy, she also knows that he snorts a little when he laughs too hard. She knows that he likes chocolate pieces melted in with his popcorn and that since getting sober, his favorite thing to drink is cream soda. Hermione keeps a pack of bottles in her refrigerator just for him and restocks it as soon as he drinks the last one.
At first, their friendship was difficult, but important enough to both of them to work on. Now… now, it's worked on. Hermione sees Fred every Friday for movie nights and on Sundays for suppers at the Burrow. She sees him at least once or twice throughout the week, too, when either of them stops by the other's workplace for a visit. Hermione forgets to eat lunch sometimes, so Fred is liable to bring her something too if he goes out for his own lunch and joins her for the meal in her office. It isn't lost on Hermione that the Ministry is way out of his way, but she's grateful for his efforts anyway. In return, she occasionally brings him sweets or dessert of some kind as a 'thank you'.
Sometimes, Hermione wishes that she could justify sharing meals and slices of chocolate cake with him every day. She likes him and she thinks that she could see a future with him, but only if that's something that he wants, too.
"I think that we should have sex," Hermione says, her voice almost too serious for the words that just came out of her mouth. That's… perhaps not how she intended to broach this subject with him, but it's out now, she supposes.
Fred's eyes widen comically large, his fingers reflexively tightening on her foot as he stammers for a response.
"It doesn't have to be right now," Hermione interjects before he can form a sentence. "But I have a theory I'd like to test."
"A theory?"
Hermione sits up, bending her knees and tucking her toes underneath Fred's thigh.
"Mm," she nods, brushing a chunk of his hair off of his forehead. "I want to see if it's different."
Fred's brow furrows as he turns to face her a bit more.
"Different how?" he wonders, his thumb tracing idle patterns against her ankle bone.
Hermione leans her head down on the back cushion of her sofa and bites her bottom lip.
"Well, a lot has changed in the last eight months. I think– I– Fred, I like spending time with you. I'd like to do more of it," Hermione starts, unsure if anything that she's saying is making sense to him. "But I don't think that asking you to have dinner with me would accomplish much considering we already spend so much time together."
Fred nods in acknowledgement to Hermione's explanation, pausing for a moment as if to think about his response before speaking.
"So, you want to see if that spark is still there?" Fred clarifies and Hermione nods.
Fred doesn't agree immediately– he doesn't disagree either, Hermione supposes, but that still gives her pause. Her cheeks flare with heat and uncertainty. She definitely hadn't thought that she would need to convince Fred to do this. She thought that he might've been feeling the same things that she has been, but perhaps she was wrong…
"But if you don't want to– er… maybe we should just continue the movie," Hermione backtracks, embarrassed, sitting back against the other side of the sofa, now an entire cushion between them yet again. "Forget I said anything."
Fred tosses the television clicker back onto the coffee table, film now forgotten and scoots forward so that he is back beside Hermione.
"Oh, no, I want to. I've wanted to for months," Fred chuckles, wrapping his hands around Hermione's calves and draping her legs over his lap before leaning one arm against the armrest behind her back. "I'm just….surprised. I'm not opposed, I just need to understand where this came from, that's all."
Hermione isn't sure why, but that stipulation still doesn't ease her discomfort. Fred Weasley has never needed to know all of the facts before diving into anything before.
"I just– Fred, I know that our history together is… rocky, but I think that we've more than made up for our poor choices, don't you?" Hermione tries to explain, averting her eyes from him and fidgeting with the hem of her jumper. "I really like spending time with you. I look forward to our Fridays together. I get actual butterflies in my stomach when I see you in the doorway to my office."
The corner of Fred's lips tip up as his free hand rises to rest on her right knee.
"A-and sex with you was always good, but I can't imagine that it won't be just as good, if not better, when you're sober and I'm not so angry that I could burst out of my skin. I-it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, I just–"
"Oh, no. If we're doing this– and I hope that we are– it'll mean something," Fred interrupts, leaning further into Hermione's space, his forearms flexing with restraint as he does. "It'll mean everything. We're not doing this lightly. I can't."
Hermione gapes for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Fortunately, she doesn't have to.
"Hermione," Fred practically groans, leaning forward and brushing the tip of his nose against hers before leaning back again. His voice is almost breathy when he speaks again. "I love you– have done for a while now."
Hermione lifts her right hand and brings it to Fred's cheek.
"You don't have to say it back," Fred says, smiling a soft smile. "I just need you to understand what's at stake here. We can do this, but I will also be taking you out for an actual date tomorrow, then, too. If that goes well, as I suspect it will, then you'll never be able to get rid of me. Is that what you want?"
Hermione doesn't exactly respond– not really. Well, unless cupping his jaw and pulling him close to her counts as a response. She leans in too, gently brushing her lips against his.
"That's what I want," Hermione whispers and Fred surges forward, kissing her with enough intensity to push her back even further against the sofa armrest.
Hermione adjusts, shifting to lie down more fully on the sofa, dragging Fred with her. He kneels up without separating them, his hand on the armrest above her head holding him up as he hovers over her.
Hermione hitches one of her legs up against Fred's hip and fists his t-shirt up by his ribs, holding him close.
Fred's lips are soft and he tastes like cream soda and buttered popcorn. He's warm and safe and strong against her and she can feel the stark contrast of his cold belt buckle against her heated skin through her shirt.
Hermione's legs are tangled with Fred's and her lips move effortlessly with his and even this is enough proof to her that the so-called spark is still there. She imagines that by the end of the night, it'll be a full-blown blaze.
Hermione shifts beneath Fred, her hips canting against his for a brief moment– brief, but long enough to make an impact. Fred's chest rumbles with a muzzled groan as he returns the favor. The hand not holding himself up travels up her leg to brush against her stomach, dipping beneath her shirt to caress her skin.
Hermione tugs at Fred's t-shirt, rucking it up to his ribs as he gives her a break to breathe, ducking his head down to mouth against her jaw and that sensitive little spot behind her ear.
"Off," Hermione pants, more than ready to feel the skin of Fred's bare chest against her.
Fred nods, kneeling up and tearing his shirt up and over his head. As he tosses it aside, Hermione reaches for his belt and undoes the fastenings with quick fingers. His belt hits the floor with a clunk as Fred readjusts, laying himself down against the back of the sofa on his side. Hermione follows his lead and turns toward him, hooking her left leg up on his hip again and bringing her lips back to his.
With two free hands now, Fred makes quick work of Hermione's jumper, letting it join his own shirt on the floor. Fred runs his right hand down Hermione's back, letting it come to rest on the curve of her bum as he tugs her completely flush against himself.
"Missed this," he breathes, rolling his hips against hers as her fingers tangle into his shaggy red hair. "Missed you."
Hermione nods in agreement without breaking their kiss, dropping her free hand to the button and zipper on Fred's jeans. She pops the button and drags the zipper down, her heart thrumming in her chest hard with anticipation.
"Need you," Hermione exhales, knowing in her bones that she means those words in more than one way in this moment. She hadn't said those words to Fred earlier when he told her how he feels about her, but there isn't a doubt in her mind that she feels them. She loves Fred Weasley as much as she loves breathing and she will tell him so just as soon as she has the mental capacity to form a sentence again.
Hermione's hand slips into Fred's jeans with intention and his teeth catch her lower lip as he moans in the back of his throat at her touch. She takes that for exactly the encouragement that it is, stealing her lip back and kissing him hard.
Hermione has no idea how she has survived the last eight months without touching or being touched by Fred Weasley, but she knows one thing for sure– she won't ever go more than a day or two without him again, not if she can help it.
"Well? What's the verdict?" Fred asks, his voice gravelly and somewhat breathless as he lies on his back with his fingers brushing carefully through Hermione's curls.
Hermione breathes a soft laugh against Fred's still-bare chest where her head lay and traces the tip of her finger across the ladder of his ribs. She shifts slightly, enough to look up at his face without toppling either of them off of the sofa.
Hermione raises an eyebrow at Fred, eyeing him pointedly.
"Are you just trying to get me to stroke your ego, Fred Weasley?"
If she could, Hermione would cross her arms over her chest, though she shouldn't really be surprised by Fred's antics.
Hermione adjusts the knitted throw which she draped over herself and Fred once their… activity had ceased, attempting to keep it from falling off of them.
"Couldn't hurt," he shrugs, a playful smile stretching his lips. "But then I suppose you've done enough stroking for one evening."
Hermione rolls her eyes.
"Is this what I'm signing myself up for? A lifetime of bad innuendo?"
Fred brushes the tips of the fingers on his free hand over her shoulder fondly.
"Yes, but I promise to make it worth it," Fred smirks, now dragging his fingers along her jawline, ending by whisping the pad of his thumb over the plush part of Hermione's bottom lip.
Hermione leans up, pausing for a moment before pressing her lips back to Fred's. He still tastes like cream soda and popcorn and it makes her head spin. A part of her doesn't believe that she actually can kiss him now.
"I love you, Fred," Hermione whispers, meeting Fred's eye seriously. "And I'm not just saying that because you did. I mean it. I love you."
For the space of a breath, Fred seems shocked or unsure if he heard her correctly. He shakes it off quickly, though, and brackets his arm around Hermione's back and kisses her a little harder than he probably means to.
"So," Fred mumbles against her lips. "What time should I pick you up for our date tomorrow?"
Hermione rests her hands on Fred's chest and then her chin on her hands when she pulls back, thinking.
"Well, it's Saturday tomorrow, so I'm free all day. Do you have to be at the shop?" Hermione asks, fairly unsure of how Fred typically spends his Saturdays. She knows about his Fridays and his Sundays, but Saturdays have, until now, been a mystery to her.
"At some point, but I can be flexible with when," Fred replies, resuming his playing with Hermione's hair. "I can take you out for breakfast, then work for a few hours or I can work in the morning and then have dinner with you."
Hermione thinks for a moment. Either sounds great to her, but the selfish part of her is wondering if there might be a third option.
"Can we do both?" she asks, biting her lip nervously. It's not that she wants to come across as clingy or anything, but after tonight, she's not sure that she could ever possibly get enough of this particular wizard.
Fred smiles down at her, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.
"Yeah, we can do both."
"Alright, what's got you acting all jittery?" Ginny questions with a raised eyebrow as she sidles up beside Hermione, wine glass in hand. "You look like you're about to come out of your skin."
Hermione tries to shrug her off, but is ultimately unsuccessful. She hadn't anticipated being so nervous this week at supper, but she absolutely is. She's never been a particularly good actress and now she's going to have to sit through dinner across from Fred without giving away the secret of how they spent the beginning of their weekend together.
It's not that either Hermione or Fred are opposed to their family knowing that they're together now, but it's only been two days. They should be able to enjoy it for themselves for a while before it becomes public knowledge.
Hermione had enjoyed spending the majority of her day with Fred yesterday– so much. After leaving late the night before, he arrived back at her flat at around nine o'clock in the morning and they walked together to a bakery around the corner from her flat. They shared a blueberry lemon scone and chatted about Fred's brewing and Hermione's reading plans for the day. Then he walked her home and kissed her goodbye before leaving for work. The simple, easy domesticity of their breakfast date had been enough to distract Hermione from her chores for the majority of the day.
When dinnertime rolled around, Fred, again, met Hermione on her porch and walked alongside her a bit past the bakery to an Italian restaurant which she has become quite fond of since moving into this flat. He told her about his day at the shop and she regaled him with exciting tales of cleaning out her refrigerator and reading after lunch.
It was perfect and it hadn't felt at all like a first date. Hermione supposes because it wasn't, really. It was their first official date, but it was far from the first meal they've shared. Hermione thinks that perhaps that's why she felt so at ease. She knows that she's safe with Fred. Being with him felt as easy as breathing.
Their goodbye kiss that time lasted for longer than after breakfast. Hermione thinks that she might still have an indent in her lower back from the iron railing on her porch which Fred had pressed her against, but she truly can't bring herself to care. After what felt like ages of kissing, Fred had stepped back, pressed a singular, warm kiss to Hermione's forehead and said his goodbyes before ducking into the alley beside her flat and apparating home.
Hermione doesn't really have much– or anything, really– to compare it to, but what she does know is that yesterday was the best first date(s) that she's ever been on.
"What?" Hermione asks before her mind catches up with Ginny's words. "N-nothing. I'm fine."
Ginny takes what appears to be a fortifying sip of her wine before turning to face Hermione on the sofa.
"Right," she deadpans. "Shall we try that again?"
Hermione bites her bottom lip and fiddles with the ends of her hair. Fred isn't here yet. That's what's got Hermione feeling like she's going to 'come out of her skin'. He's still at the shop and Hermione isn't sure how she's going to handle being around him without spoiling their secret. It was easier when she was angry-shagging him– she didn't want anyone to know about that. But this? She's happy with him.
Hermione glances around the room, verifying that no one is paying any mind to her– they aren't, save for Ginny. Charlie is home again, so he's the center of attention, which works out great for Hermione in this moment.
Hermione grabs Ginny's wrist, dragging her up from the sofa and directing her through the sitting room and into the kitchen. Hermione isn't about to dissect the reasoning behind why her first instinct is to pull her into Mrs. Weasley's pantry, but evidently old habits die hard.
"Ooh, goody, I'm part of the club now," Ginny squeals with a laugh which Hermione can only describe as a cackle. She shuts the door behind her and sets her wine glass down on a shelf to her right. "I wasn't planning on getting laid until much later this evening, 'Mione."
Hermione rolls her eyes, but laughs in spite of herself.
"I slept with Fred again," Hermione admits, rushing the words out as if saying them faster changes anything.
Ginny's eyes widen and her head swivels as she blinks at Hermione in surprise.
"Come again?" Ginny asks, snickering at her own word choice. "Oh, wait. You did that already, I'm assuming? Merlin, I hope so, for your sake."
Hermione crosses her arms over her chest.
"Gin," Hermione huffs. "That's not the point. There's more."
Ginny's face sobers– quickly.
"Oh, Godric, are you pregnant?"
Hermione breathes a sigh of relief at that. No, she is decidedly not pregnant– of that, she is absolutely sure. She and Fred have always used copious amounts of protection– both Muggle and magical– every time, and Friday night was no different.
"No, I'm not pregnant," Hermione assures her– and herself, if she's being honest. "But we also spent practically all of yesterday together too."
Ginny lifts her glass and takes another sip before setting it back on the shelf.
"As in, marathon sex? Or… something else?"
Hermione sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.
"Something else."
Ginny's smile spreads across her face like the Cheshire Cat– wide and sparkling and slightly unnerving.
"Well, it's about bloody time!" she practically cheers. "Six months. Six months, I've been waiting for this!"
Hermione opens her mouth to speak, though she isn't entirely sure what to say in this moment. Fortunately, Ginny cuts her off before she has to think of something.
"Six months I've had to listen to you– and him, frankly– talk endlessly about your movie nights and the days that you two have lunch together and I knew that there was more to it."
Hermione tips her head to the side, unsure of what exactly Ginny means by that.
"There wasn't more to it– not until Friday night," Hermione explains. "That was the first time since before he stopped drinking. I– I wanted to see if it felt different."
Ginny cocks an eyebrow.
"And was it? Different?"
Hermione levels her with a pointed Look– one which says, 'I'm not telling you a damn thing'.
"I'll take that as a yes," Ginny smirks. "Look, 'Mione, I'm happy for you. If you're happy, then so am I. So, what's your damage then? You seem freaked."
Hermione sighs.
"I'm just… I'm nervous– to see him, to tell your family. We're not telling anyone else today, but when we do, your Mum is going to start planning our wedding, Ron's going to blow a fuse and George… He's going to accuse me of corrupting his twin again."
Hermione leans against the shelves to her left with a defeated sigh.
"Gods, Ginny, I love him– so much– and your nutty family is going to scare him away from me."
Ginny's expression softens and she steps forward, placing both hands on Hermione's shoulders.
"'Mione. No one is going to run him off," she insists. "Even if he hasn't told you yet, Fred is mad about you. I'd bet a lot of galleons that what changed on Friday was that you said something, not him. Am I right?"
Hermione doesn't respond verbally, rather, she raises a single eyebrow at her friend.
"I say that because if it were up to him and he was going to make a move, he would've done it months ago. He was waiting for you to say something," Ginny elaborates, a mirroring eyebrow raised right back at Hermione. "So, did you?"
Hermione averts her eyes from Ginny's, looking down at her feet as her cheeks flame.
"I paused the film we were watching and told him that I thought we should have sex," she says quietly casting her gaze up toward the ceiling.
Ginny gasps, laughing an uncontrolled, shocked laugh.
"Yeah? And approximately how much protesting did he do when you dropped that little bomb?" Ginny mock-wonders, crossing her arms over her chest.
Hermione bites her bottom lip again, this time remembering the events of Friday night.
"Not much," she grins.
Ginny throws her hands up with an exasperated scoff.
"I rest my case."
Hermione just barely resists the instinct to flinch when she feels the graze of a fingertip against her thigh beneath the supper table. She knows whose fingertip it was– obviously– but she can't exactly react to his touch when his mother is sitting just two seats over.
"Fred," Hermione hisses under her breath, though mostly out of surprise rather than opposition.
"Yes, it's true, we had four hatchlings last week. All healthy," Charlie explains, presumably in response to something that someone said, but with Fred's hand creeping up the inner seam of her stockings, she only has one ear on the conversation. "Three males and one female."
"Keep still. You'll draw attention," Fred whispers, leaning just a hair closer to Hermione– close enough that she can hear him without making it obvious that his hand is just about up her skirt at the dinner table.
Hermione nods in assent and reaches for her water glass to take a large swig. The room suddenly feels about ten degrees hotter than it was a moment ago and she's parched.
"It's exhilarating. Bloody terrifying if you're not careful, but we're all well trained," Charlie continues, taking a bite of the roast his mum prepared for dinner this evening.
"Charlie! Watch your language at the table," Mrs. Weasley shouts, staring pointedly at her second eldest across the table.
Fred takes the momentary distraction as an opportunity to skim the tips of his two middle fingers along the elastic at the leg of her underwear, over her stockings. Hermione bites her lip to silence the immediate sound which tries to break free from her throat and– Merlin, help her, she shifts her left leg out, pressing it against Fred's right and giving him more room. She should be crushing his fingers and stopping him from going further, but it appears that her body has other ideas.
"Sorry, Mum," Charlie chuckles before continuing to share his story.
"Fred," Hermione almost whimpers, her tone of voice suddenly much different than it was just a minute ago.
Perhaps for the best, Fred doesn't actually touch her– not under her knickers, anyway– but he doesn't stop either. It's not enough to get her anywhere significant, but it's enough. Hermione bites her bottom lip as Fred wraps his ankle around hers and tugs her leg out just a bit more.
"As soon as we're done eating, we're leaving," Fred states, though his tone of voice makes it sound more like a question than an order.
Hermione nods immediately. She missed him today too and she expects that she and Fred are going to be in that honeymoon stage of their relationship where they can't keep their hands off of one another for quite a while. Especially considering they both are more than well aware of how good it feels.
Hermione tries to focus on anything other than the wizard currently driving her a little bit crazy, but she can't. The chatter of the rest of the room dulls to a faint buzzing as Hermione tries so hard not to squeak or otherwise incriminate herself or Fred.
Hermione sets her cloth napkin over her plate, having totally forgotten about the remaining food in front of her and drops her right hand down to squeeze Fred's thigh. It's a desperate attempt to let out some of the nervous energy swirling through her veins, but it doesn't really work as well as she'd hoped. She digs her nails into his denim-clad leg, even still.
"Bloody– fuck," Fred coughs into his unoccupied fist and abruptly removes his hand from under Hermione's skirt. Hermione just barely quells the whimper of protest which forms in the back of her throat at the loss.
"Language, Fred," Mrs. Weasley scolds, though her voice is laced with motherly concern as she looks at her son. "Are you alright, dear?"
Fred clears his throat and takes a drink from his own glass before smiling a reassuring smile at his mother.
"Fine, Mum," Fred lies through his teeth, scooting his chair back and standing. He quickly steps behind Hermione and leans down to peck a quick kiss to his mother's cheek. "Tired. Long day at the shop."
Fred briefly meets Hermione's eye before cutting his gaze over to Charlie.
"Good to see you, mate. I need to head out. Early day tomorrow. I'll see you lot next week."
Fred scarpers off through the sitting room and after a moment, the sound of the floo activating echoes throughout the house.
"What the bloody hell was that about?" Ron squawks through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
A moment of silence passes before anyone else speaks.
Ginny leans in close to Hermione from her right side, close enough to whisper in her ear.
"You two are about as subtle as a bombarda."
Hermione makes it approximately seven seconds after stepping out of Fred's floo before she's flat on her back on the sofa with the aforementioned red-headed wizard kneeling above her.
"You should expect an inquisition from your sister the next time you see her," Hermione laughs/pants, tangling her legs with Fred's and clawing at his neck as he sucks at her pulse point.
"Worth it," Fred chuckles, his voice husky and low as he paws at her right thigh, holding her as close against him as he can get her. "Better that than making a mess of my shorts at dinner."
Hermione threads one of her hands into Fred's shaggy hair and tips her head back, giving him all of the access that he wants.
"Yeah?" Hermione asks, rocking her hips against his. "Close call?"
Fred slips his hands up Hermione's blouse, dipping his head down even further to kiss his way along her stomach.
"So close," Fred hums, using one hand to begin work on the buttons on Hermione's shirt. "Friday was great– perfect, but your nails. Fuck. Missed that."
Fred undoes the last button on Hermione's shirt and parts the fabric, leaving it on, but open. Hermione returns the favor by doing the same to his jeans as she brings his lips back to hers for the first time in too long.
Unfortunately for Hermione, she doesn't get to do much more than that. The left side of Fred's face illuminates green when the floo across the room activates and someone steps through.
"See, now that makes much more sense," a voice crows from somewhere to Hermione's right. "Early morning, my arse."
Fred doesn't take his eyes off of Hermione when he addresses his brother.
"Do you mind, Georgie? Kinda busy," he grumbles, adjusting Hermione's blouse so that she is once again covered– not that George would look, but it's the principle of the matter anyway.
George, as is probably expected, doesn't leave. Rather, he plops himself down in the armchair to the left of the sofa and stretches his arms out over the armrests.
Fred kneels up and eyes his brother pointedly before holding out a hand to help Hermione sit up as well.
"Nah, I don't mind," George beams, looking far too pleased with himself. "You were 'kinda busy' at dinner, too, it seemed."
George waggles his eyebrows and laughs a somewhat manic laugh.
"How did we manage to keep this a secret for months the last time, yet this time we lasted for less than three days?" Fred wonders, as Hermione turns away from George to button her shirt back up. Fred makes no such attempt with his jeans.
Hermione shrugs, but laughs lightly anyway.
"More emotion involved this time, I think."
George quickly reminds the two other occupants of the room of his presence with a loud 'huh'.
"Is that so?" George asks, his voice far too giddy for someone who just walked in on his brother horizontal with his girlfriend on his living room sofa. "I thought that it was the wandering hands under the table, but sure, that works too."
Fred rolls his eyes and stands from the sofa, once again lending a hand to Hermione who stands alongside him with her clothes now righted.
"Let's move this to my room," Fred mutters into Hermione's hair as he wraps an arm around her waist.
Hermione nods, though she isn't sure that she's in any position to be picking up where she and Fred left off. George's interruption was more like a bucket of ice being dropped on top of them. She supposes that now that they're more serious about one another, they can always just talk or read together or… something. She rather likes that idea– not having to leave just because they aren't going to have sex. She gets to stay and spend time with Fred, anyway.
George, for his part, looks far too pleased with himself. His smile is nearly ear-to-ear as his eyes bounce back and forth between Fred and Hermione.
"Use protection, you two! And for the love of Merlin and the four founders, silencing charms!"
Hermione breathes a laugh but follows Fred's lead as he takes her hand in his and heads in the direction of his bedroom down the hall.
"Sorry about him," Fred scoffs as he closes his bedroom door behind Hermione.
Hermione shrugs and walks immediately in the direction of the bookcase in the far corner of Fred's bedroom. She's spent plenty of time in this room, but she's never been able to explore it like this before.
"It's okay, really," Hermione insists, brushing the tips of her fingers along the spines of the transfiguration books on the third shelf from the top. "I told Ginny before you got there. Everyone's going to find out eventually, right?"
Fred steps up behind Hermione and brackets his arms across her collarbones.
"I'd have told them all tonight if you wanted to," Fred replies as he rests his chin on the top of Hermione's head. "Still, I don't want anyone scaring you off."
Hermione smiles a half-smile and twists in his arms and wraps her own around his torso.
"Funny, I said something similar to Ginny today."
Hermione stands up on her toes and presses a soft but lingering kiss to her boyfriend's lips.
"Will you stay here tonight?" Fred asks, his voice soft as he lifts one of his hands and brushes a curl back behind Hermione's ear. "We can just sleep."
"Yeah," Hermione agrees easily. "I'd like that."
Fred smiles his dimply smile and leans down to drop a kiss to Hermione's forehead.
"Pick a book," he says, as he steps back. "I'll get you something to sleep in and then I'll read to you until you fall asleep, sound good?"
Hermione tries to fight the bright smile which takes root on her face but instead, it wins easily. Truly, that sounds wonderful.
Hermione wakes up slowly. She stretches her legs long and her arms above her head as her eyelids flutter open. She's warm and the remnants of a great dream are clinging to her subconscious as she finally opens her eyes.
The first thing that Hermione sees when her vision clears is a handsome red-headed wizard, sound asleep with an Advanced Charms book open on his chest.
Fred had fulfilled his promise to read to Hermione until she fell asleep– and until he did as well, it seems. Hermione had drifted off to sleep with the sound of Fred's voice in her ears and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against her cheek. At some point since then, it seems that Hermione had drifted to her own pillow, but even still, Fred's radiating warmth is a comfort to her.
Hermione sits up quietly and slides the book from Fred's hands, closing it and leaning over him to place it onto his bedside table. She tries her best to not wake him up, but she knows that she fails when he stirs, shifting against his pillow and cracking an eye open.
"What time is it?" he asks, his voice groggy and scratchy with sleep as a lazy smile creeps its way into his face.
"Not time to get up yet," Hermione replies, tangling her fingers with his as they rest on his chest. "It's still dark out."
Fred squeezes her hand and nods before rolling to his side and pulling Hermione over to him and tucking her against his chest.
"I'm sorry that I woke you," Hermione apologizes, pressing a kiss to his sternum. "Go back to sleep."
Fred is quiet for a moment and Hermione thinks that he's done exactly as she told him to do until he kisses the top of her head.
"'Kay," Fred mumbles sleepily, squeezing his arms around her again. "I love you."
Hermione smiles. She knows that she and Fred have only been together officially for about three days, but unofficially, it's been over a year. Over a year of what was originally just a way to release some tension but which then morphed into a solid friendship and now even more. It's perhaps not the traditional way to go about a relationship, but even still, Hermione doesn't think that she would change any of it if she could.
"I love you," Hermione says back– not because she has to, but because she means it. She's not even sure if Fred hears her because his breathing has already evened out, but just saying it is enough for her because now she actually can.
Hermione doesn't even realize that she falls back asleep so fast until she hears Fred's wand alarm vibrating to wake him up to start his day.
"Mm, morning," she smiles as she feels him sneak out of the bed.
"Good morning, love," he replies, but the inflection in his voice sounds almost disappointed. "I was trying not to wake you."
Hermione appreciates the effort, but she's sure that she probably has to get up soon enough anyway. She opens her eyes and her smile widens still at Fred as he stands shirtless beside his bed, leaning his hands on the mattress to be closer to her.
"I have to open the shop today, but you stay as long as you like."
Hermione nods, but still sits upright anyway. She raises her right hand and crooks her index finger toward herself. Fred has to leave for work and she knows that, but if there's one thing that she will insist on, it's a kiss goodbye. Fred seems only too happy to oblige her request.
Fred smiles a lopsided smile and dips down to press his lips to hers and Hermione isn't entirely sure which one of them gets a little too into it first, but the next thing that she knows, Fred is under her and both of them are liable to be late to work if they don't cool off fairly quickly.
"What time do you have to open?" Hermione asks breathlessly in between slightly frantic kisses.
"I've got time," Fred replies, breathing hard against Hermione's lips and nodding almost nonsensically as he fists his own t-shirt which Hermione is currently wearing. "Verity has keys. She can open. You?"
Hermione knows that it's irresponsible. It's a terrible excuse, but at this moment, it seems like a great one.
"I can be late. What'll they do? Fire me?" she laughs lightly, grabbing the hem of her shirt and tearing it up over her head. She doesn't often take advantage of her War Heroine title, but she supposes that today is as good a time as any to do so, if need be.
Fred doesn't exactly respond apart from a somewhat robotic nod as his attention is diverted to Hermione's now-bare chest.
"Yeah? Are you sure?" Fred confirms, clearly restraining himself before doing whatever it is that he's thinking about doing. When Hermione replies with her verbal consent, Fred rolls the two of them over until she is on her back.
Hermione knows that she and Fred won't be able to do this every morning– or, she supposes that if they do want to have some time together in the mornings before work, then they'll have to commit to waking up earlier– but she also knows that she only gets to be young and in the very early stages of her relationship with him once. She doesn't think that she'll ever not want to shag him before she goes to work, even years from now, but if they're both interested in doing so now, then why not?
Hermione walks into the Ministry with a little extra pep in her step and a pleasant ache between her legs. As it happens, staying with Fred for a little longer than intended this morning turned out to be an absolute necessity based on what Hermione walks into when she enters her office.
Hermione's office door hits the wall behind it with a muted bang when she forgets to stop it, surprised into stillness in her doorway.
"Ron?" she asks, despite knowing that she would recognize this wizard blindfolded.
Ron stands from the guest chair across from Hermione's desk where he had been waiting for her and tucks his hands into his pockets.
"Morning, 'Mione. Can we talk for a minute?"
Hermione furrows her brows in confusion. Apart from passing comments at Sunday suppers, Hermione and Ron haven't spoken since their breakup nearly a year ago now. In total fairness, Hermione has been busy between work, her continued therapy with her Mind Healer and her weekly commitments with Fred, but really, she's just been avoiding Ron and she knows it. She still spends a fair amount of time with Ginny and Harry, even in spite of her busy schedule, so she can't truly excuse herself too much.
"Sure," she agrees, mostly because she doesn't think that she has much of a choice.
Hermione crosses the room and sets down the to-go coffee cup which she picked up on her way into work down on her desk. She leans her hip against the side of her desk and crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow and nodding in such a way which she intends to say, 'So, talk'.
"Right, well," Ron stammers, hunching his shoulders in a way which Hermione recognizes as uncertainty on him. "I– Well, I miss you, 'Mione."
Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.
"I– I know that we're no good together," Ron continues. "I know that I cheated on you. I did it more times than you know about. I owe you an apology for that. I don't mean it like that."
Hermione sighs. Sure, Ron probably does owe her an apology, but by that logic, she also owes him one.
"Ron– you don't have to," she frowns. "I– I cheated too, you know. We're both at fault."
Ron nods, unsurprised by Hermione's confession.
"The War really screwed us all up, didn't it?" he asks, though Hermione thinks that the question is mostly rhetorical.
"It did," Hermione agrees anyway. "But we can move on from it. We're still here. We can do better."
Ron nods in agreement before his face scrunches in thought.
"Can I ask, though?" he wonders and Hermione has a feeling that she knows what his question is about to be. "It was Fred, right?"
Hermione could lie. She doesn't have to tell him the truth, she supposes. She nods in affirmative, anyway.
"Still is, actually," Hermione shrugs, scuffing the tip of her high heel against the floor tiles. "I was just with him this morning."
"I always thought that it was him– the way that he used to look at you when you weren't paying attention," Ron says, his voice somewhat wistful. "I don't notice everything, but I noticed that. When I heard that he was detoxing and getting sober, I always thought that that was for you."
Hermione's eyes widen.
"Oh, I– no, I don't think…"
"Maybe not. Maybe he did it for himself, too, but I wouldn't be surprised if you were a factor," Ron shrugs. "You two are pretty obvious, anyway. Even I could tell when he stopped seeing you. You stopped coming to Sunday suppers. You didn't even do that when we broke up."
Hermione doesn't know what to say to that. She had always assumed that nobody noticed or knew about her 'relationship' with Fred Weasley. Evidently, she had been incredibly wrong. She supposes that the timing of her hiatus was a bit suspicious if one knew the details.
"He's also never been particularly subtle with how he's pined after you– especially after getting sober. I wasn't positive that you two were back together, but I knew that you were spending time together. After last night, I thought it was more, though. I'm happy for you, 'Mione– really."
Hermione bites her bottom lip, unsure of how to respond exactly. This is now two of Fred's siblings who have said that they've thought that he's had feelings for her for far longer than she ever thought. Hermione decides to tuck that bit of information into the back of her mind and possibly ask Fred about it at some point. It doesn't really change anything, she supposes, but it would be nice to know the truth.
"I just– Well, I wanted to come by and try to convince you to be friends again. I miss you and I miss having dinner with you and Harry and Gin during the week. You can bring Fred now, too. We– we've been through too much together, 'Mione. We weren't right for each other, but I don't want to not have you in my life at all. Can we try at least?"
Hermione isn't entirely sure what to make of this conversation. Coincidence has never been something which Hermione has believed strongly in and therefore she does not believe that Ron's decision to try to reconcile today was random. He waited. He waited until he knew that she had moved on and she has to assume that that was intentional.
"Yeah, I think that we can manage that," Hermione eventually decides.
Ron nods with a genuine half-smile which transports Hermione right back to first year. He seems to think for a moment before he pulls one of his hands out of his pocket and holds it out to Hermione. After a momentary pause, Hermione takes his hand and shakes it. It's possibly the most awkward handshake of Hermione's life, but it's a start.
"Thanks, 'Mione. For listening."
"Fred?" Hermione asks, walking up behind him as he helps a customer out on the floor of the shop and tapping the back of his hand to alert him to her presence.
At the sound of her voice, Fred turns and offers her a surprised smile before excusing himself from his customer once finished with him.
"Hermione," he greets, leaning in and pressing a short but loving kiss to Hermione's right cheek. "Did I know that you were stopping by, love?"
Hermione shakes her head, absently reaching up and adjusting Fred's slightly crooked bowtie before replying.
"No, I just thought I'd visit on my way home from work. Can I steal you for a minute?"
Fred eyes Hermione skeptically for a brief moment before agreeing readily, threading his fingers through hers and guiding her through the crowds of customers and into his office which he shares with George.
"Is something wrong?" he asks as he shucks his magenta robe and drapes it over the back of his desk chair.
Hermione shakes her head and lifts herself to sit at the edge of Fred's desk, crossing her legs at her ankles.
"Ron came to see me today," she starts, smiling at the easy comfortability she feels when Fred steps up in front of her and wraps his hands around her waist. "He wants to be friends again."
Fred raises a questioning eyebrow and Hermione certainly doesn't miss the brief tightening of his hands on her hips too.
"Just friends. He knows that we're together now. Don't be jealous," Hermione chides, though her tone is playful.
"I have had to share everything for my entire life. Six siblings and one of them is a twin? I don't want to share you anymore– not again," Fred sighs, meeting Hermione's eye seriously. "Let me have one thing that's just mine."
Hermione smiles an understanding smile and reaches up to brush the tips of her fingers along Fred's jawline.
"Fred, you're not sharing me with anyone. It's just us now," Hermione insists, inching up and offering him a reassuring kiss. He's resistant to it for a moment before he melts into her. "I promise. I only want you."
Fred nods, though Hermione doesn't think that she's heard the last of this conversation. She doesn't mind reassuring Fred, though. His concern isn't unfounded and she's going to have to work a little to make sure that he believes that she means what she says. She'll do it though, because Fred is worth it to her.
"That does sort of lead into what I actually came to talk to you about, though," Hermione says, biting on the inside of her cheek in uncertainty. She's not going to force Fred to tell her anything that he's not ready to, but she does want to discuss his siblings' theories that he's had feelings for her for longer than she suspected. "Ginny and Ron have both alluded to something recently that I wanted to ask you about."
Fred's shoulders seem to relax a bit as he nods, encouraging Hermione to continue.
"I– They– Well, it's just that you jumped on board with my request that we have sex pretty quickly on Friday and when you told me that you loved me, you said that you'd felt that way for a while," Hermione explains. Fred nods in the affirmative at the end of Hermione's sentence, as if he is confirming her memory of the night in question. "How long is a while?"
Fred's expression softens and he quirks a half-smile.
"Years, probably. But realistically, at least the last year."
Hermione's eyes widen. She hadn't been expecting that.
"Hermione," Fred sighs, his tone taking a turn for the serious. "When our… arrangement started, I was hurting as much as you were. I was drunk every day. You were the bright spot in an otherwise very miserable existence. After the War– after my accident– most people treated me in one of two ways. Either they acted like I was made of glass and would break if they looked at me for too long or they tried too hard to act normal that it was anything but."
Hermione stays quiet, understanding that Fred probably has more to say. She wants to interrupt him and pepper him with questions, but she also doesn't want to silence him when he's opening up to her.
"You were actually normal. You're careful with my leg and you give me a hand if I need it, but you expect me to tell you if that's the case. You don't assume. I've carried you through both of our flats and you let me. You don't go out of your way to ignore my injury either, though. It probably sounds backwards, but the fact that you used me for sex and wanted nothing else was a point in your favor."
Hermione must look as confused as she feels because Fred laughs lightly before continuing.
"You got what you wanted and didn't try to make anything more out of what we both knew was just convenient. You didn't try to save me or fix me. But in doing so, you made me fall in love with you. For the first time in the entire time that I've known you, you'd made yourself seem attainable. You were just as messed up as I was. That's why it stung when you finally got your head above water."
Fred runs his fingers up and down Hermione's spine and he pauses for a moment.
"Everyone else– my parents, George, even Lee– had already called me out more than once. It was easy to ignore them, but when you, who was just as fucked up as I was, did? That sucked," Fred huffs an exasperated sort of laugh. "I didn't get sober for you, but I think I did it because of you. You pulled yourself up by the bootstraps and it convinced me that I could too."
One of Fred's hands glides along the outside of Hermione's right thigh, almost as if he's distracting himself.
"That's why I didn't want to tell you until I'd been dry for a while. It would've felt like I was letting you down if the whole sobriety thing didn't take– which isn't really fair considering you didn't know about it, but that's not really the point."
Hermione isn't sure why, of all of the questions that she could ask, the first one which pops to her mind is: "Do you still get the urge to drink?"
"Every day," Fred replies without even blinking. "But it's not worth it anymore."
"Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" Hermione wonders.
Fred smiles a half-smile as he shakes his head on a breathy laugh.
"Well, I didn't exactly keep it a secret either. I never used the words 'I love you', but I wasn't discreet about it," Fred explains with a shrug. "I knew that you were still seeing your Mind Healer and I didn't want to compromise your progress. How I feel about you isn't… fluid. It wasn't– and isn't– going to change, so I was prepared to wait until you gave me some sort of indication that you were ready to be more than friends."
Hermione bites her bottom lip and averts her eyes for a moment.
"I bet you weren't expecting me to just blurt out that I wanted to have sex with you," she huffs a self-deprecating laugh as her cheeks flare with embarrassment.
Fred tucks his index finger under Hermione's chin and tilts her face back up to meet her eye.
"I wasn't expecting it, but I wasn't against it either. Merlin, Hermione, it took everything in me to not just say yes straight away," Fred chuckles, breathing a bit of humor into an otherwise serious conversation. "Gods, I practically got lightheaded from how fast my circulatory system diverted my blood flow."
Hermione rolls her lips in to hide her smirk at what Fred is alluding to. She won't deny that she likes the fact that she can affect him like that.
"But you mean more to me than just a theory to test, so I had to tell you. I couldn't reject you; I didn't want to and I genuinely don't think that the words would've come out if I tried to. So, I had to tell you what it would mean to me. I'm just bloody lucky that you were receptive."
Hermione smiles wide now, reaching up and tangling her fingers with Fred's as she removes them from under her chin.
"I was– and am– more than receptive. I'm in love with you, Fred Weasley."
Fred exhales a heavy breath and leans his forehead against Hermione's, squeezing her hand as he does.
"I'm in love with you, Hermione Granger."
Hi, friends! Happy Friday! (:
Y'all. I cannot even begin to explain how much I love this little three-part fic we're wrapping up today. I genuinely have been so wrapped up in this universe that I barely came up for air while I was writing it, lol. I wrote most of this part on my phone on my birthday while I was watching movies with my family. I was so invested.
I had initially intended for this fic to only be the first chapter because it followed the inspiration song pretty closely, but I am genuinely incapable of writing something that doesn't have a happy ending- that, and this version of Fred & Hermione practically wrote themselves. Their chemistry was so far off the charts that I just couldn't stop writing them.
Anyway. Thank you, as always, for spending a bit of your time here with me this week. Your support means the world to me. Thank you, yet again, for sticking with me through another completed work. Y'all are truly the best.
Please leave a review. Reviews are candy to me. (:
PSA: I will be taking next Friday off from uploading Fremione and will resume the following week (02/07/2025) with another three-chapter fic. (:
See you again soon.