Chapter 2
The final few weeks at 12 Grimmauld Place seemed to drag on forever. All Hermione wanted was to leave this dark, depressing place that felt more and more like a prison every day. The almost constant screeching from Walburga Black’s portrait left her with migraines and the never-ending stream of vile comments from Kreacher every time she entered a room was, to be honest, pushing even her towards hatred of the ancient house elf. Most of all, Hermione wanted to get as much distance between herself and the twins as possible. She had a plan. This silly little crush would disappear if she could just get some space from Fred. It was proximity that had her all mixed up in her feelings, nothing more. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin’s sake. She did not “drool” over boys. George would soon be distracted pranking some unsuspecting first years with whatever wild inventions he and Fred had come up with, and all this nonsense with her would be forgotten.
Meanwhile, Hermione focused her time bonding with Ginny. She found herself admiring the girl more each summer they got to spend time sharing a room together. The only other people she had ever shared a room with were Parvati and Lavender, but both had shut her out almost immediately when she hadn’t joined in on their gossiping sessions. It wasn’t Hermione’s fault. Being the lone child of only children, she didn’t even have cousins and she’d certainly never had “girlfriends” before. She didn’t know how to gossip or share make-up and hair care tips. Besides, she wasn’t exactly that kind of girl. Don’t get her wrong, Hermione could make herself presentable when she wanted to – take the Yule Ball, for example – but most of the time, the situation really didn’t call for such effort and she, quite frankly, couldn’t be bothered.
That was something she had in common with Ginny – although with her flowing, flaming red hair, bright green eyes, and smooth complexion she was always stunning. Ginny was smart, strong, and never put up with any nonsense from her brothers. She knew her self-worth; her self-confidence was second to none. Hermione felt she had a lot she could learn from Ginny; she genuinely did not give a niffler’s arse what anyone else said or thought about her. Sure, Hermione knew who she was and was proud to be herself, but that didn’t stop the comments and snide remarks from hurting her and fuelling the doubts that she would never fit in that still festered from her first year.
Hermione often thought she could feel Fred watching her at dinner, but she couldn’t tell for sure because she was avoiding making eye contact with him. To be honest, she was avoiding looking at either of the twins at all if she could help it. If anyone had noticed that she had gone from spending as much of her time with Fred as she could to as little as possible, no one mentioned it. Let’s face it, Harry and Ron were not exactly the observant sort. She thought she caught Ginny looking between her and the twins one evening, frown creasing between her brows, but she couldn’t be sure.
September 1st eventually rolled around, and Hermione soon found herself sitting in a carriage on the Hogwarts Express, catching up with Neville. She had just returned from her first prefects meeting with Ron, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in a while. She knew this year at Hogwarts would be different, what with Voldemort back, but looking out on the bright scenery flashing past the window as they made their journey north, rather than the filthy, dank walls of Sirius house, she found herself renewed with a sense of hope and freedom. Of course, she hadn’t factored in Dolores Jane Umbridge.
Although those first few weeks back at Hogwarts were horrific, they were exactly what Hermione needed to deal with the Fred situation. She was so busy worrying about Harry and coming up with the plan for Dumbledore’s Army, she barely had a second to think about something as trivial as her feelings. In fact, the first interaction she had with him were during that first DA meeting in the Hog’s head. Did she still feel a flutter of something akin to excitement that she couldn’t quite place when she saw him walk through the door? Sure. Was she going to push the feeling deep down inside of her and ignore it? Absolutely.
From then on, distancing herself from Fred wasn’t really an option. Lessons with the DA were frequent and, if she was being honest with herself, Hermione had missed being around him. The reason she liked him so much in the first place wasn’t because she found him attractive (although she undeniably did), it was his mischievous, energetic persona; his ability to put a smile on her face, no matter what her mood. It was his kindness and the way he made her feel as if she was the only person that mattered when he spoke to her, his focus entirely on her. She had lost count of the number of conversations she had with Harry lately while he was – understandably – distracted or Ron, watching his eyes glazing over, just knowing he couldn’t wait until she stopped talking so he could turn the conversation back to Quidditch or what was for dinner.
And so, she let him back in. Often he would stay behind after the DA meetings had finished, helping her tidy things away. They seemed to effortlessly fall back into their old ways, easy banter flowing back and forth. Hermione had never felt comfortable making teasing jokes with someone. She always worried they would take whatever she said to heart, and she would end up hurting their feelings. It was why she a reputation for being so serious all the time. She rarely made jokes in case people were offended by her sense of humour, but with Fred it felt so natural to just say what was on her mind. She felt secure that he would understand her. It helped that he always seemed to find her hilarious.
They were cleaning up together after a particularly physical DA session one Friday after the Christmas break, when Hermione was abruptly reminded of her position in Fred’s world. They had been ribbing each other jovially while Fred tossed her bean bags from across the room to pile back in one of the corners.
“Fancy a game of exploding snap when we get back to the common room,” Fred asked, as he walked the final one over.
“It’s getting pretty late and I need to redo my essay on the properties of Salamander blood for Snape before tomorrow. I was doing some extra reading and found some more information I want to work in. What? What’s that face for?” She clocked Fred smirking at her.
“What face?” he replied, full of fake innocence. “Once a swot, always a swot is all I was thinking.” He reached over and ruffled her already frazzled hair. “Never change, Granger. Never change.”
Something about this rankled Hermione. She wasn’t sure if it was the mention of her being a swot or the hair ruffling. Suddenly she was reminded of his “big brother” comment from months before.
“Well I wouldn’t want to be anything other than your nerdy ‘little sis’ now, would I?” she replied with an unexpected edge to her voice, before turning away from Fred, heading towards the door.
“Sure, Granger,” was his quiet response as he followed her out into the corridor. They walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence.
Things had definitely shifted to more of an awkward atmosphere between them over the next couple of weeks. Fred stopped hanging around after DA meetings and Hermione reverted to hanging out in the library instead of the common room, unsure how to move forward.
It was a chilly Wednesday evening in February. She was patrolling the corridors on her prefect rounds alone. She was supposed to be partnered with Ernie Macmillan, but the Hufflepuff prefect had found himself in detention with Umbridge instead. She was on the final corridor before she could call it a night when she heard movement from behind the tapestry she had just passed. She let out a sigh, turning on her heel while rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Probably Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson again. She had lost count of the times she’d caught them in empty classrooms and deserted corridors this year. It made a change for them to actually be considerate and hide their heavy petting behind a tapestry for once. Usually, they didn’t care who saw them pawing at each other. Ripping back the hanging, Hermione’s stomach dropped. She felt as if the floor beneath her had suddenly vanished. She would have preferred it to be Malfoy and Parkinson. In the hidden alcove in front of her was none other than Fred Weasley with his tongue down Katie Bell’s throat.
Fred’s eyes snapped up to hers and he pushed himself backwards forcefully off Katie. There was something unreadable in his eyes. She could feel the tears forming and she couldn’t find a way to stop them coming. She had always known it was unlikely she would ever have Fred for herself but seeing him like this with someone else was devastating. He was staring at her with a confused look on his face, eyes searching hers. She had to get away from him. Hermione knew he had seen her tears; it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out why she was upset. The last thing she wanted was his pity. She turned and fled down the corridor as fast as she could, not stopping even with Fred calling after her.