Chapter Text
Once upon a time, things like charging into attics to ghostbust ghouls and de-doxie curtains while armed with nothing more than his own nerve and repellant would have felt like no big deal to Fred. Extracting doxie venom with his bare hands and ingesting questionable looking test potions were all part of the things that made Fred Weasley, well, Fred Weasley.
However, at the ripe age of twenty-seven ( ha! ), he just wasn’t the same foolhardy lad he used to be.
As Fred stared down the attic hatch on the ceiling, the cobwebs thick and intricately weaved around the pull cord, he felt nothing but reluctance. He was a business owner for Merlin’s sake. Surely there was someone he could hire to get rid of the nest of pixies that had made a home up there?
But as it was, they had already spent gaggles of galleons on this place, and a little D.I.Y. never killed anyone. He had big plans for this big home after all— the one he insisted on buying due to the amount of extra bedrooms it had. Bedrooms he already had plans to fill.
“Alright, Freddie?”
Fred turned around, meeting his young wife’s concerned gaze as she absently stroked her large, very pregnant belly. The light filtering in from the dusty window just behind him casting her figure in a brilliant glow that brought out the flecks of amber in her normally dark brown eyes. Her hair, frizzy from a day of moving, framed her face like a wild, golden halo.
As Fred stood there, completely bewitched by the image of the woman that stood there, he felt a sudden fluttering within his chest that somehow made him feel breathless. He swallowed, his throat constricting loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway.
Then, his feet moved. He reached Hermione with two long strides, and with no explanation, he buried a large hand in her curls, pulling her closer and capturing her lips with his.
Hermione gave a muffled hum of surprise against his mouth before relaxing against his body and allowing him to continue. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, effectively bringing him closer as his hands lowered and his thumbs pressed into her hips. He could feel her belly pressed firmly against his– a reminder of the life they were creating together – and he deepened the kiss, trying to express what he wasn’t eloquent enough to say in words. After a moment, he tugged her bottom lip gently between his teeth, releasing her after pressing one more kiss there. Inhaling shakily, he rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you ,” he breathed, his voice thick with devotion. He nuzzled his nose against hers softly. “And you look bloody gorgeous right now.”
“I love you, too,” Hermione echoed, stroking the longer strands of his hair that rested on the nape of his neck. Then her smile widened mischievously and she gave Fred’s hair a little tug. “But you’re not getting out of de-pixying that attic.”
*