Chapter 1

Fred Weasley fell from the sky. He landed near me with a grunt and then groaned as he flipped onto his back next to my lawn chair.

"You okay there?" I asked, not bothering to look up from my rather dull book.

"I think I broke something," he wheezed.

"Oh?"

He hissed in a breath through his teeth as he forced himself into a sitting position. "My ribs. Definitely my ribs."

"I don't think you're supposed to land on those." I turned a page in my book, not really sure I'd finished everything on the last page. It really was a dull book. How Ginny read these things, I had no idea.

"Couldn't exactly help it." He winced, breathing through tight lips. "Mione, could you—?" I picked up my wand and sent a silent healing spell at his chest before he could even finish the question. He sighed in relief as his shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mione-love." I finally looked up to find him giving me his brilliant soft smile. That smile had accompanied that nickname nearly every day since he'd woken up from his coma after the war. George had been forced to get some rest and Mrs. Weasley had been chatting with the healer in the hallways, so I was the only one in his room when he woke up – and how I had loved how those beautiful blue eyes warmed that day. Every day of the fortnight he'd been in a coma, I had missed the warmth his eyes always had when he looked at me.

"You're welcome."

"Hey!" George yelled down from above. "You coming back up here any time soon?"

"You knocked me off my broom," Fred shouted back. "I broke my ribs!"

"Hermione fixed you!"

"Leave it, George. You could have seriously hurt him," Angelina chastised above us.

"He's fine!" George argued back. Everyone ignored him and the game started up again.

"You don't want to play?" I asked.

"Not when you aren't."

I didn't raise an eyebrow at the line, but only because I was used to that kind of thing coming from the mouth of Fred Weasley. Even after all these years, I still wasn't entirely sure how to respond to it. "If you live life like that, you'll never play again."

"I'll get you on a broom one day, Mione-love."

"Yeah. Good luck with that."

He gave me his cocky smirk and cocked his head, eyes finding the book in my hands. "Still reading that?" he asked as he sat in the chair next to mine, moving it slightly to face me better.

I glanced down at the novel. I was only on chapter three and I already knew how it would end, but it was something to read. Or to stare at while I thought. "Yeah."

"You read Hogwarts: A History faster than that."

I shrugged. "I'm just taking my time."

Fred's eyebrows shot up. "You've never taken your time in your life." I shrugged again. "Hermione, what's wrong?" His hand moved to rest on my bare knee, sending sparks shooting up to my heart.

"Nothing," I answered quickly. He just looked into my eyes, his hand firmly resting on my knee. "It's nothing."

"Nothing's nothing."

I sighed. "I'm just thinking about my parents."

He frowned. "Why don't you go spend some time with them?"

I blinked. "Spend time with them?"

"Yeah. I'm sure they miss you. I could even go with you, if you want. It'd be fun to meet them."

"You—" I stopped, biting my lip as I looked into his sincere eyes. He honestly didn't know. By the time he'd come out of the coma, everyone else in the family knew what I'd done to protect my parents and I'd never thought to bring it up to him after he'd woken up. And I guessed no one else had either. Fred didn't know I didn't have a home to go back to, and yet he had never once questioned my presence in his.

"Supper's ready!" Mrs. Weasley called. "Everyone in!"

"Mione?" Fred pressed, his hand gently squeezing my knee.

I gave him a weak smile as I stood, forcing his hand from my knee. I missed its heat. "We'll talk later." I took a step towards the house, but Fred grabbed my hand and pulled me back to stand in front of him. I was almost even with his eyes as he looked up at me with an expression I didn't understand but made my breath catch in my chest.

"Promise?"

"Promise what?" I asked, my voice low.

"Promise we'll talk later. I—" He swallowed. "I know I'm not Ron and that we haven't talked much about serious things, but I'm great at advice and—"

I put my hands on his shoulders. "I'm fully aware you aren't Ron. He annoys me more than you do." Fred snorted a laugh, his fingers brushing against my bare leg. I once again ignored the sparks it caused. "The only reason I hesitated is because I was surprised you didn't already know. It has nothing to do with my trusting you. But I'm hungry and your mother is impatient, so I say we go eat and then we can talk."

He smiled at me with a warm smile that deepened his dark gaze. "Let's go, then." I stepped back to let him stand and walked with him into the house, which was already full to the brim. Every single Weasley child was present — mostly because Mrs. Weasley was still too clingy to let them go — along with their significant others, if they had them. It was good to see it so full, even if sometimes I did feel like I was overstaying my welcome.

"There you two are," Mrs. Weasley said as we entered the kitchen. "Take a seat, now." There were only two seats left on one of the benches, beside George and Angelina. Fred motioned for me to sit down first before he took the seat between George and I. We were forced to sit close enough that our arms and shoulders were pressed up against each other the entire meal. I pointedly ignored the sparks I felt from the contact, something I was getting very good at doing. After dinner, I found myself on the couch with my back to the arm and that silly book of Ginny's in my hands again, though I was really just watching the game of exploding snap a majority of the Weasley siblings were playing on the floor.

"Back to reading that?" Fred asked as he came out of the kitchen after helping his mother clean up. He sat himself on the couch beside me, lifting my legs and putting them over his lap while giving Ginny's romance novel a once over.

"Not really. I've mostly been watching the game."

"I'm sure it's a much more entertaining distraction."

"Just different," I answered with a shrug. Fred stretched his arms out along the back of the couch, his fingers twisting a few strands of my hair.

He leaned in a little, a smile in his eyes, and said, "Is now a good time to finish our conversation?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You want to talk now?"

"It was all I could think about during dinner."

"Really?" I asked sarcastically, looking into his eyes expecting to find a joke there, but I found only sincerity.

"Really," he answered seriously. "You've got me worried about you, Mione-love."

"Oh." I shut the book, letting it rest in my lap. "There's nothing to worry about, really."

He smiled tightly. "You avoiding it is making me worry more."

"Right." He looked at me, head tilting to the side with a warm light in his beautiful eyes.

"Come on, let's go for a walk." He took the book out of my hands and tossed it on the floor before taking my hands in his to pull me off the couch and out the front door. It was a beautiful night, if not a little chilly with the wind. A perfect night.

We walked in silence towards the glade near the house for about a minute when Fred said, "I've no right to force you to talk, Mione. I just want you to know that I know that you aren't yourself, and that I'm here if you want to talk." His eyes were that sea blue they got when he was being sweet.

"No, you're right. And it's really not dramatic. I don't know why I'm making such a big to-do over it." We reached a rather large tree a few paces from the edge of the glade and Fred turned to give me a raised eyebrow. I sighed. I would just have to bite the bullet, as it were. "As nice as it would be to introduce you to my parents, I can't introduce them to anyone."

He frowned. "Why not?"

I looked down at my hands. "Because they aren't really my parents anymore."

His brow furrowed, his eyes darkening with confusion. "I don't follow."

I sighed again. "Before I left with Harry and Ron last year, I knew what we were going to do and that it would leave my parents vulnerable, and I obviously wanted to protect them, so I, well, I sort of took away their memories, made them think they're different people, and sent them to Australia."

Fred blinked. "You what?"

"It was the only thing I couldn't think to do to protect them. Now, on this side of things, it sort of feels extreme, and I can only hope that I did the right thing and that I saved them from horrible, torturous death at the hands of muggle-hating bigots."

"You actually did that? To protect them?" He was obviously shocked, which made me look down at my hands again.

"Yes."

"Mione-love, that is…" I bit my lip, waiting for him to tell me I was crazy. "That is the bravest thing I've ever heard."

My head shot up. He was looking at me with such care and awe that it took me a minute to breathe. No one had ever looked at me like that. "You think?"

"Mione, you willingly gave up any chance you had of ever being with your parents again. You gave them a chance at life when you weren't sure you would still have one. That is a very hard choice."

I shrugged, uncomfortable under his gaze and praise. "I did what I had to do."

"Bravely." I looked into his eyes again to still find that look there. After a few seconds of him just staring at me like that, I started to fidget. He smiled. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Mione-love?"

"No," I answered quickly. "It's just, well, I guess, it's..." He raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Yes. I'm uncomfortable. Now will you stop looking at me like that?"

He chuckled. "Like what?"

"Like you're amazed by my mere presence."

"But what if I am?"

I rolled my eyes. "You with your flirty nonsense. Stop it. I'm serious."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, alright, I'll stop." He made a point of looking off towards the house to show he was doing it.

"Thank you."

We stood like that for a quiet moment before he said, "Have you ever thought about going back?"

"Going back where?"

"To your house."

I shook my head. "There's nothing left for me there."

"You can still go look at it." I shrugged. "I'm only saying that you need some closure, Mione-love. Going back to see it as it is now might be helpful."

I thought about that. He was right, I needed closure, but would seeing my family's home without my family in it give me closure? I wasn't sure. "I'll think about it," I promised. He nodded. A loud yell came from the house, drawing our attention.

"It's good to hear everyone having fun," I said, smiling at the warmly lit home. It made my heart happy.

"It is," he agreed. He leaned against the tree, hands going into his pockets as he stared at his home. He looked so handsome at that moment, it made my eyes burn, but I couldn't look away. "George is going to ask Angelina to marry him."

I blinked, my mind trying to catch up. "Wow. That's… wow."

"Yeah," Fred agreed with a sardonic smile.

"Is he going to do it tonight?" My eyes flicked back towards the house where we left them cuddled up on a chair.

"No," he assured me with a smile. "I'm sure he'll come up with something suitably romantic for her. But he bought the ring."

"That's great!"

"Yeah," he agreed, but he continued to stare at the house with a pensive look.

"But?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess it just makes me think about the future."

"You know nothing fundamental will change between the two of you, right? I mean, you're Fred and George."

His eyes finally came back to me as he shook his head. "No, no that's not what I meant. I mean that it makes me think about my future."

My brow furrowed. "I don't follow."

"You know, dating and settling down and starting a family."

I blinked. Twice. "I, uh," — I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear — "I didn't realize you wanted all that. Right now, I mean."

"Well maybe not right this second," he said with a teasing note in his voice and his eyes. My shoulders relaxed slightly, though why they'd tensed before I wasn't completely sure. "But George getting married does make me think about getting started down the path towards having my own family."

I stayed silent, unsure of what to say to that. Fred dating? He really hadn't dated anyone seriously. Not ever. Sure he'd gone on some dates and there had never been a shortage of girls who wanted to be the one on his arm, but he'd never even mentioned wanting to date seriously. Not in all the late nights spent laughing in the library or the trips to Hogsmeade or the countless hours spent together during his recovery post-coma had he once mentioned wanting to settle down. But he was an adult now, one who survived a war and owned a successful business. Maybe it wasn't so strange. But then why was my heart squeezing so tightly at the idea?

"What do you think?"

I snapped out of my thoughts. "What?"

He gave me an amused little smile. "What do you think about me wanting a girlfriend?"

"Oh!" I breathed out, biting my lip and looking at the ground. "I mean, I'm not sure my opinion matters too much on that front."

He pushed off the tree to face me head on. "Of course your opinion matters." I tucked that piece of hair back again. "Your opinion matters more than anyone else's." My lips parted in surprise at the earnest look on his face. He swallowed. "Apart from George."

"Right. Apart from George." My stomach was swirling and my heart was beating far too loudly and my head felt light. We stared at each other for a long moment before a loud shout from the house broke us out of it. I cleared my throat. "I guess I think it's good to think about the future. And it's better to at least have a girlfriend if you're going to start a family," I tried teasing, but my voice sounded strained even to my ears. Fred just looked at me, warm blue eyes assessing. "But don't go setting up house with the first girl who smiles at you."

Now he smiled. "I would never." His lips quirked nervously. "In fact, I think I already have someone in mind."

My jaw fell open as surprise and — well, there was no other word for it — dismay shot through me. Fred's eyes roamed my face as he took in my reaction. He was obviously waiting for me to say something, but it took me longer than it should have to come up with a response. "Um, who?"

He paused before saying, "I don't think I want to jinx it by talking about it yet."

I dry swallowed, my throat feeling tight and dry at this strange turn of conversation. Part of me felt like I should press him, the other part of me had absolutely no interest in finding out what girl had caught his fancy. No interest at all. "Okay," was all I managed to say.

"I'm just not sure yet if she fancies me back," he explained, face earnest again.

I bit my lip. This was one of my best friends. If he needed encouragement then I needed to get over myself and give it to him. "Oh, Fred, I'm sure she loves you. Or she will soon."

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

Because I already do. The thought ran through me unbidden and it made me stop cold. There was no way all these strange feelings I had were because I was in love with Fred Weasely. He was just one of my greatest friends. That was the kind of love I had for him. So what if I felt sparks every time he touched me? It didn't mean love. Attraction, maybe, but not love. Right? But as I stared into his beautiful warm eyes I had to accept there was a chance that it might mean exactly that.

"Mione?" Fred prompted. And I couldn't leave him hanging, no matter what I was feeling.

I took in a breath and, staring into those eyes I loved so much, said, "There's no one so easy to love in the whole world as you, Fred Weasley." Another loud whoop came from the house, giving me the perfect opportunity to end this uncomfortable discussion. "We should head in. It's getting late." With that I walked back to the house and straight to the bedroom I shared with Ginny, leaving Fred standing by the tree and knowing I might be irrevocably in love with my best friend. And knowing I hadn't realized it until he wanted to be with someone else.