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If there is one thing Fred Weasley is not, it’s shy. No, Fred is known to be boisterous, the more outgoing of the twins. He’s the one with the ideas - and thank Merlin he has George to help turn those ideas into reality - so it’s a bit strange when he awkwardly asks if he can talk to Hermione after one of the infamous Weasley dinners. In private. Though confused, she nods and shoots the rest of the table one of her patented Granger looks, and follows him to the backyard.
“What’s this about, Fred?”
He tilts his head and blows out a long breath, one that causes his hair to slightly shift from where it lays over his forehead. Hermione notices the way he’s fidgeting and the space between her eyebrows creases in worry. “Hermione, we’ve… We’ve been friends a while now, yeah?”
“Almost a decade,” she agrees.
“And we… I mean, sometimes it… Oh, bollocks, why is this so difficult?”
Hermione draws her lips into her mouth in an attempt to not giggle. He’s a bit adorable though, not the word she usually associates with him. She prompts him, “Sometimes it… Seems like… More?”
“Yes!” Relief floods his gaze and his body visibly relaxes. “It’s not just me, then? You feel it, too?”
The smile she gives him is a bit mischievous. “I don’t know, Fred. Have I felt it?”
There is a moment of silence then Fred guffaws, realising and appreciating her tease. “So… A date? Let me take you out proper?”
“Hmm.” Hermione taps a finger on her chin. “I’ll think about it.”
“I was thinking – wait, what?” Fred shakes his head and watches Hermione turn back toward the house, stopping only to look over her shoulder and wink. “Hermione? Hermione!”
For the next week, Fred feels like the entire world is off-kilter. Everywhere he looks, it’s like Hermione is right there. On Monday, she shows up at the shop with a bag of sandwiches. She convinces him to take an actual lunch break and they eat in his flat above the shop. Tuesday night, Fred and George meet with friends at The White Wyvern, the pub completely different from the time of Death Eaters, and Hermione appears at the bar later in the night.
“Hermione? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, am I not allowed?” Her voice is playful though. She grabs her stein of beer. “Just came from downstairs, thought I’d have a drink before heading home.”
Fred pauses before he begins coughing. “The tattoo shop?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Hermione,” Fred begins but stops himself. She glances at him, hiding a smile before her stein. “About what I asked…”
“I’m thinking about it.” She blinks her eyes innocently at him, long lashes fluttering. “I promise.”
He wonders what more she needs to think about - it’s either a yes or no, isn’t it? He’s still thinking about this in the experiments lab he and George have set up below the shop when Hermione knocks on Wednesday. A glance at the clock shows it’s later than he thought.
“Hi,” she says, almost shyly. His heart soars for a second. “Luna and Harry are going to see a movie in London. Want to go?”
Heading into Muggle London is a rarity so he shrugs and says, “Okay.”
During the movie, they share a bucket of popcorn. Her fingers keep brushing against his until he finally grabs her hand. She doesn’t say anything, only tightens her hold, butter be damned.
He doesn’t see her on Thursday and misses her, but only a bit. He’d never admit to more.
Friday night, Fred sees her descending the stairs from his flat. George is behind her, a wide grin on his face that quickly disappears when he sees his brother. He gives them both a beseeching look, but George just shrugs with an impish grin, and Hermione flounces over to him to wrap her arms around his waist. The hug is tight and warm and his arms automatically move to pull her in closer.
“Alright there?”
She just hums in response. He swears he feels a kiss on his chest through his shirt. “Have a good game tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Right.
Saturday is the monthly recreational Quidditch game. It’s a fun time for anyone - there are those who only played at Hogwarts, some who are playing professionally, and others who just want to try it. It’s mostly a day to come together and catch up. They usually start early so they can get in as many games as possible and the field of play rotates.
This week, the games are being played on the grounds of the Pucey Estate. Adrian and Oliver both play for Puddlemere United - and play in the same bed as well - so the Quidditch pitch is as close to a professional one as possible. By the time Fred gets there, more than a few people are milling about. He’s chatting with Katie and Ron, when his younger brother’s eyebrows rise high on his forehead.
“Well, that’s making a statement.”
Fred turns and is surprised to see Hermione at the edge of the field. She rarely comes to these games but it’s the sweater she’s wearing that catches his interest. He notices that a few others watch her as she crosses the field until she’s standing mere feet in front of him.
“Hey, Fred.” She grabs the bottom of the knit sweater and tugs on it. “Do you like my sweater?”
He knows the sweater, of course. It’s one of his most worn-in pieces from his mum, completely comfortable, and the last he knew, it was in his closet. “Yeeeaaahhhh…”
Hermione beams at him. “Thanks! It’s my boyfriend’s.”
There is a beat of silence before Fred’s face breaks out into a wide grin. He rushes over to her, picks her up, and spins her around. She squeals.
“Really?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just kiss me, already!”
So he does.
