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The winter wind swept in behind Hermione as she walked through the front door of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, sending her hair whipping around her face until she could shove the door shut. Hello Rat’s nest,she thought to herself with a frown, pulling her hair out of her face. With another glance outside, to see other witches and wizards fighting against the winds in the early morning light, she figured she’d have to do something about the space in front of the shop if the weather continued as it was.
If she cordoned off just enough of the space in front of the door and angled a force field to help deflect the wind… She was pulled out of her daze of Arithmantic equations and Rune placement by an amused male voice coming from further in the shop.
“Hm?” she asked, turning back toward the shop itself.
“I said, ‘are you gonna stand there thinking all day?’ Not that it isn’t cute an’ all…” Fred answered, a smirk tugging at his lips.
There was a long pause where Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then she closed it abruptly and walked briskly past the chuckling Weasley twin, hoping he didn’t notice the blush curling up her neck. She set her bag down and swapped her jacket for the last apron hanging up in the back room, taking care that the knots were snug.
“I was trying to figure out how to create a wind buffer at the front door,” she said simply, once she’d gotten the fluttering in her stomach under control.
“That’s a brilliant idea, ‘Mione!” George called from behind a pile of boxes. He poked his head around with a grin. “What would we do without you?”
“Make your own lunch? Do your own Arithmancy? Replenish your backstock on your own?” she suggested, pinning her hair back once she realized the wind had made it completely unmanageable.
“She cuts to the quick, Georgie. I may never recover.” Fred’s face turned pained, with one hand pressed over his heart for good measure.
“The truth hurts, Freddie,” George said, his expression solemn.
Fred lifted his hand from over his heart and placed his arm across his forehead, swooning into the wall behind him. Hermione tried to cover the small smile on her face by moving quickly to the lab in the back, but she caught George’s knowing gaze as she passed him. Before she could say anything he gestured that his lips were sealed, with a meaningful look toward his brother. She flushed harder and continued on her way, pulling the lab door shut behind her.
~o~
George sidled up next to her later that afternoon, waiting as she finished up a batch of Wonder Witch Detangler before saying anything.
“So, ‘Mione, when’re you planning to make an honest man out of my dear brother?” he asked, setting his chin on his hand with a smirk.
“What?”
“Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you nearly swoon around him.”
Hermione gaped and made several flustered noises, trying to think of something to say, to maybe try and deny her feelings. What came out was: “I do not swoon.”
She huffed to cover her embarrassment and turned her attention back to the notebook full of equations on the table, hoping to lose herself in the problem at hand and not let thoughts of Fred distract her as they had been the past few months. It was just a silly crush and it would go away soon… right? The feeling of eyes still on her forced an exasperated sigh out of her and she turned back to George.
His smile was amused, but no longer had that teasing edge to it. “I’m just saying,” he started, pausing to make sure she was listening, “if an opportunity arises, don’t let it pass you by.”
And with that cryptic statement he went to help Fred with the typical afternoon rush. Hermione did her best to focus the rest of the afternoon; she wasn’t nearly as successful as she wanted to be.
~o~
By the end of the day, the wind had died down to a gentle breeze, carrying dancing flurries of snow with it. Hermione readjusted her scarf and pulled her hat down to cover her ears better, smiling at the… well the magic of the night, despite the cold.
“Hold up ‘Mione!”
Pausing in her stride, she turned to see Fred hurrying down the street toward her, ears, nose and cheeks already red from the cold. She dug into her bag with a fond roll of her eyes and had a spare hat and scarf waiting when Fred caught up with her.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” she said.
“You worried about me?” he asked, expression going smug even as he accepted the items and put them on.
“I’m only worried about the lecture I’ll get from Mrs. Weasley if she finds out I let you run around like that in the cold,” she replied.
“Let me? That sounds an awful lot like you want to take responsibility for me. Do you want to take responsibility for me, “Mione?” He sounded teasing, but there was something else there that she couldn’t quite place.
“What are you doing out here, Fred?” she asked, ignoring his question in favor of keeping at least a piece of her sanity.
Fred rubbed at the back of his neck and glanced to the side for a moment, then let his eyes meet hers, “I thought I’d walk you home.”
“Oh,” she said, not quite sure how to respond, “alright.”
The ten minute walk from the shop to her apartment passed in silence, though a particularly biting breeze forced a shiver from Hermione and, next she knew, Fred had slung his arm over her shoulders, the heat of him seeping through her jacket. She thought to protest, but instead found herself sinking into his side just a bit. If this was all she ever got, she was going to savor it, as sappy as that sounded. Merlin, Ginny would never let her live this down if she knew.
Fred walked her right up to her front door and she pulled away, albeit a bit reluctantly. She opened her mouth to thank him when her gaze was drawn the the ceiling of her stoop and she let out a sigh instead.
“George…” she said with a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation.
Fred startled and she missed the pained look that crossed his face. “I’m not-”
“I know, Fred. Sorry, I was talking to myself. George is meddling, it seems.”
“What do you mean?”
When she looked up again she caught the edge of sadness in his eyes, though it had mostly been replaced by confusion, and immediately felt her stomach tie in a knot. She couldn’t find her voice, so instead she just pointed above them to the sprig of mistletoe that hadn’t been there when she’d left that morning. Following the direction her finger was pointing, Fred’s gaze landed on the mistletoe and he smiled. That was not at all how she thought he was going to respond.
“Georgie beat me to the punch,” he laughed, pulling a sprig of mistletoe from his pocket and dangling it above their heads.
“What? You- what?”
“Well, it didn’t seem like you were inclined to do anything about it. So I thought I’d kickstart things.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, curling his free hand around her cheek to rub his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “If that’s alright with you.”
Was that alright with her? “Yea, that’s alright with me.”
“Thank Merlin,” he breathed, tilting her head back so he could press his lips to hers with a contented hum.
He threw the mistletoe to the ground so he could bring his other hand to the opposite cheek, pulling back just long enough to place a kiss to her nose. It was her turn to hum against his lips this time. She pushed up on her toes, bracing herself with mittened hands against his chest. Then he pulled away again, smiling reverently down at her.
“I want to take you to dinner, ‘Mione.”
“When?”
“Every day for as long as you’ll have me.”
“That is completely implausible and expensive,” she huffed, trying to hold back the playful grin that threatened to overtake her.
“I don’t care,” he said, laughing.
Hermione smiled then, big and bright, and laughed right along with him. “Alright. Looks like I don’t have a choice.”
“Nope.”
Then Fred leaned in for another kiss while he palmed the shrunken boxes of takeout in his pocket.