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“I’m never going to figure this out,” Fred swore as he tried to untangle his fingers from the yarn and needles yet again.
“This is really sweet, you know,” George snickered, “but Mum uses magic. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you do, too.”
“She didn’t always use magic. She just does now because there are so many of us to knit for. And she still does the letters by hand — ‘Heart magic,’ she said,” Fred argued.
“I was there when you were poking around about this. I heard what she said, twin-o-mine,” George said. “If you’re determined to do this, then why don’t you ask someone for help?”
“Because the only person I know who knits is Mum!” Fred tried to throw his hands up in frustration, only further tangling them and shooting one of the needles off to roll across the floor.
“That’s not true,” George countered.
“Oh yeah? Who else then?”
“Hermione,” his twin said with a grin.
Fred immediately started shaking his head. “No. No way, George. I can’t ask her. I— She wasn’t even very good at it, was she?”
Shaking his head, George said, “You’re thinking of little fourth year Hermione. Our grown woman Hermione is nearly as good at knitting as Mum.”
“How do you know that?” Fred demanded.
“She taught Charlie to knit last year, didn’t she? And sat alongside him knitting her own beautiful blanket while she did,” George explained.
“She was the one who taught Charlie? I thought Mum did.”
“Nah, Mum gave up on him. You know how thick his fingers are. Took him a long time to get the hang of it. But Hermione was right patient with him—”
“How do you know this and I don’t?” Fred asked sharply, feeling guilty for snapping at his twin, but desperate to know how he had missed something like this.
“You were busy getting your knickers in a twist that she was spending all her time in Dad’s shed with Charlie instead of letting you try to prank her into loving you. You never bothered to find out what they were up to,” George explained calmly.
“Why didn’t you tell me what they were doing if that was it?”
George looked at him with an amused grin. “And miss out on you moping around thinking your brother had made a move when you were too much of a coward for it?”
Giving up on the yarn, Fred muttered a slicing spell and then used his finally freed hands to mockingly attack his twin. The two ended up rolling on the floor, pummeling one another and laughing.
“What in Merlin’s name are you two doing?” interrupted a voice Fred hadn’t been expecting. He froze and looked over to find Hermione standing at the inside entrance of their flat, wand out and an expression that bordered between amused and furious. “It sounds like a herd of erumpents is stampeding around up here. I was just in the shop and even Verity was worried the two of you might have been attacked.”
“Ah, come on now,” George said, sitting up with Fred’s head still held firmly under his arm, “Verity knows we make a lot of noise when we’re working on new products.”
“Which is exactly why I came to check on you when she was worried,” Hermione proclaimed. “Now are you going to tell me why you’re acting like children or—”
“No!” Fred demanded, though his voice sounded as squished as he was.
Hermione blinked down at him and George started laughing. “Freddie is trying to learn to knit.”
There was a long pause before Hermione said, “Well, full body knitting would be interesting, I’m sure, but I don’t think the tactic is working.”
George grinned. “I suggested he should ask you for help.”
With a smile, she nodded. “I would be happy to help.” Her smile became impish when she added, “as long as it doesn’t include full body contact.”
Fred groaned as George finally released him, collapsing face first in his pile of yarn. It was an embarrassing way to begin.
“I’ll just go tell Verity not to worry, shall I?” George suggested.
“That’s a perfect idea,” Hermione agreed. “I’ll just get Fred set up with some basic stitches.”
As George left the flat, Fred felt his nerves fray as they always did when it was just himself and the love of his life alone together in a room. “So how do I do this?” he asked quickly, wanting to stick a knitting needle through his eye when his voice cracked.
“Perhaps you should get some water first. Whatever you two were fighting about, it seems to have made you thirsty,” Hermione noted.
No, just you, he thought, but the words mercifully didn’t fall from his mouth. Fred stood and got some water for both of them before returning. When he re-entered the sitting room, Hermione had his needles set up with fresh yarn and somehow his haphazard pile had been rolled into a ball. She had her own knitting project in her lap, but seemed focused on him.
“Now what are you trying to make?” she asked.
“A jumper for Mum. She always makes them for all of us, but no one ever thinks of her,” he explained.
“Oh Fred!” Hermione exclaimed, “That’s so sweet, but simply too much for your first learning project. A jumper requires multiple techniques and well, let’s start with a simple scarf for learning. Then when you’ve mastered that, we can talk about your Mum’s jumper.”
Hours later, Fred had spent a quiet day with Hermione, laughing and talking more sensibly than he had managed in years, and he had a perfectly adequate scarf in hand.
“When would you like to work on this again? You should keep practicing what I’ve taught you and next time we get together, we’ll add some more complicated stitches.”
“I never realized how difficult knitting could be,” Fred admitted.
“It gets easier as you do it. Before long, you’ll find it relaxing even,” Hermione insisted.
“I don’t know about that,” he said doubtfully.
“Trust me,” she told him with a smile that made Fred warm all the way to his toes.
“Always,” he answered, and there was a long moment when it seemed like neither of them knew quite how to take that or what would happen next.
Hermione bit her lower lip a little nervously and said, “So when did you want to work on this?”
“Oh, could we do more tomorrow?” Fred asked.
“Certainly,” she agreed. “Though tomorrow is Monday, so it will just be for an hour or so in the evening.”
“Of course,” Fred agreed as he saw her out the door.
When she was gone, he nearly collapsed against it in relief. He had managed to spend hours with Hermione and not made a fool of himself for once. He had even improved at what they were working on. Fred had to call that a double success.
********
Every evening that week, Fred found himself spending an hour or two with Hermione, listening carefully to her instructions. Now he was working hard on the jumper he wanted to have done by Mum’s birthday. He had graduated from scarfs to the jumper itself only a few days in and he was incredibly proud. Apparently, he was much faster at learning it than Charlie or even Hermione herself had been.
On Friday night, she said, “Well, you’re nearly done. I suppose I’ll see you at Molly’s party on Sunday. You won’t need me to finish up tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Fred tried to hide his disappointment. “Are you busy?”
“Tomorrow?” Hermione asked. “No. Just, you’ve put up with me all week and—”
“Hermione Granger! Having you around is never ‘putting up with you’!” At some point this week, Fred had regained his ability to speak to her normally. He was immensely grateful since the last thing he wanted was to not see her for a whole bloody day.
“Well, perhaps, but aren’t you tired of—”
“No! I could never get tired of you! I could—” Fred cut himself off, realizing that perhaps he had gotten a little too comfortable talking to Hermione. He had almost said…
“You could what?” she asked. Her expression was curious and… hopeful?
“I don’t know… just… I love having you around,” he answered truthfully.
Beaming at him, Hermione said, “I’ve loved being around you, Fred. You’re so much more thoughtful than I had realized. And I’ve always known you’re witty and intelligent, of course, but—”
“But?”
“But you’re so much more—” Hermione cut herself off.
“So much more what?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“Oh, I can’t believe I’m admitting this aloud, but Merlin, Fred, I’ve come to fancy you!”
“Just over this week?” he asked, shocked to his core.
“Perhaps a bit before, but this has made it, well, I’m afraid I’m making a fool of myself now, but… I feel like sitting here together every night is just the closest to home—”
This time when she cut off, it was because Fred had leaned over, unable to hold back a moment longer, and kissed her soundly.
“I’ve fancied you for so long,” he finally told her. “And now you’ve knit us together!”
Hermione groaned at the bad pun, but didn’t let it stop her from kissing him again.