Chapter Text
Three and a half years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and Hermione had finally managed to create a life for herself that was simple and fulfilling. Once the dust had settled she had gone back to finish her last year of education. It had been her first normal year at the school, and to no one's surprise but her own, she graduated with record breaking grades.
After saying goodbye to the castle she took a job as a clerk in the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures. As a member of the “Golden Trio” she probably could have asked for any position she wanted, but that would go against every moral fiber in her body. She wanted to earn her place, just like everyone else. There was also the very real feeling of relief that came with having a simple, low profile job after so many years in the spotlight. She had her own flat a few blocks from the Ministry, she saw her friends and parents often. She was content.
Even The Daily Prophet was finally starting to run out of things to say about her. The last scandal was regarding her breakup with Ron over a year ago. Although completely mutual, there were some truly fantastical articles written on the topic. If she recalled correctly, one reporter even blamed the breakup on the involvement of jealous centaur suitor… or was it a vampire? In any case, “Granger and Weasley Breakup” seemed to be the story of the year. People really had too much time on their hands.
Despite all of the remarkable theories circulating in the press, she and Ron had simply grown apart. Post-war she tended to shrink from the limelight, whereas Ron reveled in it. He always wanted to go to various interviews and events. Hermione simply wanted to reclaim her anonymity and forget. The differences had started to put a strain on their relationship. It simply ended with a serious talk. In spite of the fact that it was somber and uncomfortable, their sense of relief meant only a few tears were shed. She was also extremely grateful they had remained friends.
At the moment, The Prophet claimed that Ron was dating Romilda Vane, which was news to her. She hadn’t seen him in a over a month. He was currently in Poland on the trail of some leftover Deatheaters that were supposedly holed up in some caves to avoid capture. Harry was with him of course and she was happy for that, even if Ginny wasn’t.
At this point it seemed apparent that both Harry and Ron would probably miss Christmas and possibly even New Years. It was a shame really. Hermione had started taking turns with the Christmas Holidays between her parents and the Weasleys and since last year was her parents year, if they didn't make it back this would be her second Christmas without her two best friends.
She had arrived at the Burrow on December twentieth. The other Weasleys had started to trickle in since then. Now (other than Ron and Harry) only Bill and Fleur were missing, but they were due to arrive on Christmas Eve.
It was in the early morning of the twenty-third when Hermione’s eyes opened of their own accord. Based on the lack of light in the room she assumed it was about 6 am. She had gotten used to waking up early at Hogwarts in order to squeeze in some extra study time and the habit had stuck with her through the years. She had stopped grumbling about her inability to enjoy a lie in ages ago.
Hermione flipped off her covers and got out of her single bed carefully so she wouldn't wake Ginny. She changed into some jeans, a big Gryffindor jumper that used to be Ron’s and put on her slippers. She then silently left her room with a book.
Just as she was about to jump down the last few steps and into the kitchen for an early morning tea, she somehow lost her footing. Her book went flying and she felt a sudden, sharp twist in her ankle. Hermione braced herself for a painful fall on her face. It was therefore a great surprise when the inevitable crash never happened. Something, or more accurately, someone, had caught her.
“Fred! Oh! I’m so sorry.”
“Finally falling for me, eh Granger?” She could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Did I hurt you?” She asked, not yet able to look up due to the odd angle he had caught her in. She truly was concerned she had crashed into him too hard.
“I’m fine Hermione.” He said as he helped her straighten up. Their faces were mere inches apart. She noticed there was a small smirk on his lips and his blue eyes were twinkling. “What about you? You aren’t normally the clumsy type.”
This was when she began to feel the pain in her ankle again. It was also when she saw that George was there too. She cringed a little. Of all the Weasley’s to see her at a weak point, George would be her last choice. This worry was fleeting however, as it was quickly replaced the realization that neither of the twins were wearing shirts and that they were both out of breath and a little sweaty.
“You know what?” She eventually stammered out, still being gripped by Fred. “I think I may have injured my ankle.”
Fred’s demeanor suddenly became serious. He put a hand firmly around her back and in one smooth motion he swung Hermione’s legs up into his other arm.
“Let’s take a look then.” He turned and began to cradle carry her over to the couch in the Burrows living room. He set her down gently before crouching in front of her and gingerly lifting her injured foot. It was already starting to swell. George had picked up her book and put it on the side table next to her.
“OK here Fred? I’d like to jump in the shower before the morning rush begins.”
“Yeah fine. I got this. You were always shite at this sort of thing anyway.” His voice was jovial, but his face remained fixed on Hermione’s left leg. He began to carefully take off her slipper to better inspect the injury.
George smiled at Hermione and wiggled his eyebrows a little. “Unless you need a chaperone darling. My brother is removing some of your clothing after all."
Hermione sighed and gave George a small smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Fred has always been a gentleman. You’re the one with the reputation!”
“And rightfully so.” George winked, turned and went off to his shower.
In the quiet of his absence Hermione’s eyes shifted back to Fred. If she was a little flustered, she told herself it was because she had never seen him shirtless before. She couldn’t help but scan his body. Right? They were very close after all. She had to look somewhere.
Fred was lean and muscled. His chest and abs were well defined, but not chiselled. His shoulders were quite broad and his extremely freckled arms were much bigger than she would have guessed. Strong enough to lift her with ease at least. Probably from a mix of being an avid quidditch player and from lifting the boxes full of product at his shop.
He had not looked up to her face yet as he was still examining her ankle. His red, medium length hair was still sweaty and some strands were clinging to his cheeks and his uncharacteristically furrowed brow. His lips were pulled tight as he cast a silent spell to determine the amount of damage done.
She was not used to seeing Fred so solemn. Only once, when George had lost his ear and it was making her uncomfortable. The lack of clothing and closeness weren’t helping either, she noted as well.
“So serious.” Hermione teased.
He smiled and let out a small bark of laughter at her comment. “Funny that the little prefect is teasing me about being serious.” His eyes raised and looked into hers, his mirth at the irony obvious. “Besides,” he continued, looking back down at her ankle, “healing is serious business Granger. Don’t want me to get it wrong do you?”
She had to agree with that. He ran his hand down the length of her ankle and foot. She decided to be grateful that he was being serious actually. Having him make jokes while touching her leg would probably make her even more nervous. She suddenly wished she had shaved more recently, for some reason.
“It's just a sprain.” He said gently while still holding her leg. He had shifted and now sat on the coffee table in front of her. He was using both hands to keep her ankle secure while it rested softly between his knees. “I’d say you have three choices. You can stay off it for a few days and let it heal itself or you could go to St. Mungo’s and they can fix it right quick.” He paused then, and Hermione pressed him.
“What is the third option?” She asked.
“Well, I could take a crack at it.”
She visibly winced at the word crack.
Fred laughed. “Sorry poor choice of words. I just mean that I’ve healed injuries like this before on George and myself. Pranking can be very dangerous business you know. Would you like me to try?”
Hermione looked at him appraisingly. He seemed confident but then, the twins always did. “What would you do to fix it?” She asked.
“Just a spell, but it needs about five minutes to set in.”
“And you are sure it will work?” She questioned warily.
“Of course!” He said with mock hurt. “By your own admission I am a gentleman! I would never mislead a lady!”
She instantly felt more at ease. “OK if you’re sure then please go ahead. I really don't fancy being in pain for a week, or leaving the house this morning.”
“As you wish.” He winked at her, told her to relax and carefully lifted his wand. He began chanting something slowly under his breath while his wand moved in circular motions above the offending area. It was over in a few seconds. Hermione looked at him a little puzzled.
“Now what?”
“Now we wait.” He said, finally looking up at her with a grin.
“It still hurts.” She tried not to make it sound like a whine. She was a war hero after all. “Are you sure it worked?”
“It did, trust me! I told you it will take at least five minutes.” He was faking offense again. He stood and carefully placed her foot on the coffee table. Then he took a seat next to her on the couch. He seemed to be sitting very close.
Get a grip Granger! She thought to herself. It’s just Fred. What is wrong with you? The silence between them started to become uncomfortable. To counter it she said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” It was a little more frantic sounding then she meant it to be. She mentally kicked herself. She, Hermione Granger, getting frazzled over a topless Weasley.
Fred gave her a lopsided smile. “Like what you see Granger? I could start walking around like this more often if you like, but I’d have to demand you do the same.”
That brought Hermione back to her normal senses.
“That is not what I meant!” She swatted his arm in a playful way. The tension began to evaporate.
“Oi woman! Fine!” He jumped back a bit and was fully laughing now. “George and I go for runs in the morning. Usually before anyone else is up.”
“Really? You run? I had no idea.” Suddenly his athletic body was making a lot more sense.
“Well we don’t broadcast it. Wood used to make us do laps, you know? Wanted to get us in better shape for Quidditch. After a while we just realized we enjoyed it.” He grinned. “And it helps us think. Some of our best inventions have come to us during a run.”
She liked it when he told her about himself. She was always surprised by how much more depth he had than his outward swagger would have people believe.
“I didn’t realize any Weasley got up this early. It's not 6:30 yet!”
He smiled again and swung an arm around the back of the couch, almost around her shoulders. He laid his head on the back and was looking at the ceiling as he spread his legs apart and into a true lounge next to her. The change in position caused their knees to touch, which she was extremely aware of.
“Actually we usually go out at about 4 am and are back in bed for a few more hours of rest before we start our day. But George had a date last night, so he needed to sleep in a little.” He lifted his head and winked at her, apparently to ensure she understood the innuendo.
She blushed a little but didn't pursue the topic further.
“Well you are just full of surprises.” She smiled and turned to steal a glance at her injured ankle. Apparently sensing her question, he answered.
“It’s almost done. It should be getting warm now?”
“Yes it is!” She looked at him excitedly.
“Then I'd guess you've got about a minute left before you’re all set.”
“That’s amazing! You will have to teach me this spell sometime!” He seemed to perk up a bit with her praise.
“Hey Granger I meant to ask. When you nearly killed me by barreling down the stairs, how did you know it was me?”
“What do you mean? Of course it was you.” She never understood why people had trouble with this.
“But not even just me or George. You couldn't see who it was. It could have been any of my brothers so how did you know it was me?”
“Well it was your scent obviously.”
“What?” He said suddenly. He sat up straight and was eyeing her cautiously. She looked up at him with a confused face, not sure why he seemed so shocked.
“You know. Your smell… You have a distinct scent, just like Ron, but they smell different.” She suddenly became more aware of how uncomfortable Fred looked. She started to ramble. “I mean none of your other brothers or Ginny seem to have a distinct scent. Just you and Ron. It’s odd isn’t it?”
Fred’s eyes grew wider. He was staring at her like she had grown two heads. “I mean you smell like a grass meadow after it rains and Ron smells like apple cinnamon, but his scent has faded quite drastically in the past year or so…”
It was at this point that Fred leapt off the couch so quickly that Hermione bounced from the force of the cushions adjusting to his weight leaving the space beside her.
“OK well!” He began to stammer, avoiding her eyes, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.“ You should be all fixed up now. Mum will be down any second and if you still are a little stiff she can help you.” He started to walk-run out of the living room.
“Fred! What in the…” She was cut off though. He frantically shouted a quick, “OK bye!” and bounded up the stairs, narrowly missing a collision with his mother. She had just been coming down to the kitchen to start breakfast as Fred was shooting up the steps two at a time.
“Dear, what's wrong?” She called up after him but he was already gone.
Molly came into the living room and saw Hermione there looking puzzled. “What on earth did you do to Fred?” She asked quizzically.
“I haven’t the slightest idea...” said Hermione. Her foot was totally mended, but now her head was spinning.