Telescopes and Confessions
1996
Fred spies a familiar head of brown curls making their way through the congested isle of his shop. He had seen the other two-thirds of the trio at the front of the shop, while Ginny looks at the pygmy puffs with Lovegood. He watches as she stops in front of the Wonder Witch section, her face obscured by her untamed hair.
“I’ll be right back, Georgie.”
He sees George follow his line of sight and his twin snorts.
“Right, try not to abandon me here with all of them. Harry is looking kinda tetchy.”
He waves off his twin's words and makes his way through the crowd to get to her. He says polite ‘hullos’ and ‘thank yous’ to some of the people that he recognizes from school. He steps around a gaggle of fourth years that are giggling over the Daydream potion samples they had left out.
“Hullo m’lady. Anything I can help you find? I have it on good authority that I’m pretty close with one of the store owners.”
She jumps at his sudden presence and finally makes eye contact with him. His smile slowly slides off his face when he takes in the awful black eye she’s sporting. She clears her throat and holds up a vial of their love potion with a quirked brow.
“Love potion? Seriously, Fred?”
“What happened to your eye?” He asks and steps closer, her head being forced to tilt back so she can continue to hold his gaze.
She pauses and looks at him in confusion. “What?”
“Your eye. Who hit you? I swear to Merlin, if Ron was mess-"
Her expression clears. “Oh! No, Ron didn’t have anything to do with it, honestly! I picked up one of your telescopes and, well, it punched me?”
His hand reaches out before he could even care to try and stop it. He gently grabs her chin in his hand and turns it so he can see the black eye better. Sure enough, the bruise is roughly shaped like his fist. He feels a pool of dread settle in his stomach at the sight, however indirect it may have been, he had marked her.
“Godric, I’m so sorry Hermione. I thought I had taken all of our products out of there. Lemme take you to get some healing balm out of the back, ok?”
She huffs a laugh and covers his hand with her own. “Fred, it really isn’t a big deal. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been holding something when I had no idea what it did.”
He twists his hand so he can interlock their fingers. “Maybe, but I definitely feel like a twat for it. Follow me?”
Her eyes flick down to their intertwined hands and then back up to his. She has the little wrinkle between her brows in contemplation. Before he can second guess his actions, she squeezes his hand and smiles gently at him.
“Oh, alright. It really isn’t that bad. But I suppose it’ll be nice to see where all of this comes from.” She gestures to the shelves around them.
He exhales and smiles back at her. He turns so that she can follow him through the path that he cuts, people naturally wanting to move out of his way. He catches George's eye on the way to the back and rolls his own at the sly smirk that passes over his twin's face. He follows the wall all the way back to the hallway he had cast a ‘notice me not’ on to ward customers away from. He taps his wand on the doorknob to the workshop and pushes it open when it unlocks. He closes it behind her when she makes it in and then casts a wordless silencing spell. He lets go of her hand, regrettably, and makes his way over to the desk drawer where George and him keep their various medical supplies. He rummages through it and grabs the healing slave and turns to the witch before him. She’s looking around the workshop in awe, her mouth agape.
“Fred,” She trails off and she turns in a full circle. “This is…brilliant! It’s absolutely brilliant! The setup is perfect for everything you could possibly want to accomplish! Oh, it’s the perfect temperature for brewing, there’s no drafts that could alter transfigurations.” She cuts herself off and turns back to him.
He smirks at the sheepish look she’s shooting him. “Oh do go on. I’d love to hear what else Prefect Granger has to say about my joke shop.”
She rolls her eyes and steps closer to him. “You know I always thought you and George were brilliant. You were doing transfiguration and charms far beyond any of your classmates, and I know there’s a reason you got into N.E.W.T level potions. I just never agreed with how you tested your products and whom you sold them too.”
He grins and lounges against one of the shelves. “Always knew we were brilliant, you say?”
She rolls her eyes again and crosses her arms, though he could tell she was still amused more than anything. “ Yes. And don’t act so surprised.” She huffs. “I’m sure you were aware that I really let up on you even having the products in my field of vision. The only time I stepped in was when I thought the person buying them was too young.” She bites her lip and casts another glance around the shop. “It really is impressive, Fred. You should be proud.” She says softly, and with plenty of meaning.
His smirk morphs into a bashful smile. He pushes off of the rack and crosses to her in the center of the room. He unscrews the salve and takes her chin in hand again. He gently strokes the soft skin of her cheek, holding her warm, brown eyes. He can feel the soft puffs of air she releases, her gaze still intense, all consuming.
“I can do that.” She says, but he gets the feeling it’s said out of politeness, if not a bit of challenge if the fire in her eyes is anything to go off of.
“I know.” He states simply and slowly turns her head.
He sets the jar on the shelf closest to him and dips his free forefinger into it. He brings the lemon scented salve up to her cheekbone and her eyes close automatically as he hovers over the worst area of bruising. He gently rubs the ointment into her skin, taking care to not press too hard on the abused and blemished skin. He spreads it around her cheekbone before he makes his way over her eyelid. He takes an extra moment to make sure the salve is starting to absorb properly. He watches as the bruise disappears and continues to stare at the spot. He leans down and softly presses his lips to her cheekbone. He hears her sharply intake a breath and then he pulls back and drops his hand, still standing close.
Her head turns back and her eyes meet his and he can see the fire in her eyes grow.
“Kiss me.” His brows raise and her eyes never leave his. “Kiss me. You said you were waiting to do it ‘properly’. Kiss me. ”
He chuckles and leans down so his lips hover just before hers. “Bossy witch, hmm?” He whispers as some of her fire pools in his chest and stomach.
She huffs again and he feels her lips ghost over his in the movement. He closes the distance and kisses her for only a few seconds before he pulls back. He rests his forehead on hers and holds himself rigid in order to not rush back in and kiss her the way he desperately wants. He wants her to lead, to tell him what she desires so there can be no mistake made on his end. He wants her to feel the fire and intent he had been feeling everytime he looked at her over the past two years.
“Kiss me like you mean it, Fred Weasley.” She challenges softly.
He takes a steadying breath and then leans in to capture her lips. He doesn’t dive in like he had last year, fighting for the kiss to be believable in front of an undesired audience. He takes his time and slows her desire for a harsher kiss. He brings a hand up to cup the back of her head as he changes the angle to slot their lips together more fully. His other hand skims across her waist to cup the small of her back, lightly dragging her into him. He lavishes her mouth, making sure to put all of what he feels into the kiss. He nibbles at her lip, just enough to cause her to gasp. His tongue soothes the fire left by his teeth and then caresses her own.
One of her hands wraps around to the back of his neck, just barely reaching the smooth skin. The other fists the lapel of his wizarding robe and attempts to drag him down. He lowers himself a bit, still keeping the kiss slow, passionate, and feeling. She breaks from him moments later, maybe even hours, and kisses the corner of his mouth once, twice, and a final time before she gently lowers herself off her tip-toes.
He hears her breathing fast, his own surely matching, and brings the hand from the back of her head around to gently stroke her cheek again. He kisses her nose before he stands up fully, taking half a step back in order to look her in the eyes properly, but not far enough to make her feel as though he regrets their actions. Her eyes are blown wide, the black of her pupil taking up nearly all her iris, and she’s got the most lovely blush dancing across her nose and cheeks.
He clears his throat. “Well, I’d reckon that was a proper kiss, eh?”
She slowly nods and her lips twitch from either the passionate kiss or from trying to keep her amusement in at a serious moment such as this.
“Yes.” She clears her own throat after her voice comes out hoarse. “Quite.” He watches as her eyes travel over his face. “Definitely different from the last one.”
He takes a steadying breath before dropping his hand to grab hers. “I told you, I hadn’t imagined kissing you for the first time to be for any reason other than because we wanted to.”
Her blush increases tenfold. “You’re quite bold.”
He smiles, but he knows it doesn’t extend the way it usually does.
“I think you and I both know that in times like this, boldness is what guarantees you another chance, another second.” He pauses and watches as his words sink in. “I think we both know what’s coming and how involved both of us will be.”
Her eyes widen. “Fred-”
“Just, listen for a second, Hermione. Please.” She purses her lips and nods. “ I know you can feel it too. The shift. The way people are starting to look over their shoulders, moving just a bit faster to get out of sight. I know-” He breaks off and closes his eyes for a second. “I know I can’t ask you to hide from it. It isn’t who you are and s’not fair to ask you that.” He takes another breath, making sure he looks her in the eyes. “You’re a good person. Truly good. Loyal, brave, and wicked smart. You’re gonna do what you always do; you’re going to be relentless, bold , and unwilling to fail in order to make sure my little brother and Harry make it out of this. You are going to be the reason the tides change in the war. Everything is so dark, filled with people’s fears and terror. You are going to be the light that helps guide the good back.
“I figure-” He breaks off again to exhale shakily. “I figure the least I can do is match your boldness on this. I…I look at you and all I’ve wanted for the past two years is to match the way you look at the world. The way you want to protect it. I couldn’t let potentially our only kiss be born from that stupid cow, Umbridge. The things I feel when I look at you? Indescribable.”
Her eyes, so round and filled with emotion, are trained on his. Her free hand shakes as she brings it up to rest on his cheek, mimicking how he held her after they parted from their kiss.
“Fredrick Weasley, that will not be the only kiss we share.” She murmurs. “You talk about me being good? You should take a hard look in the mirror.” Her voice is shaky, but her hand is steady now. The perfect dichotomy. “It took me entirely too long to see all the good that you do. You’re right, I can feel the darkness of our world starting to creep in, filling the cracks where the light should be. But you? You are doing something to negate that. You are trying to fill an otherwise darkening world with some light by opening this business.
“Fighting this war is going to be multifaceted. It needs to be. If you only attack from one side, the darkness will inevitably seep through and fill back in. I don’t know what’s going to happen this year, or the next. I always was rubbish at divination.” She says with a forced chuckle. “But I do know that this will not be the only kiss we share. We are both going to be standing at the end of this, do you hear me? You will not be just a memory for me to look back on.”
He swallows hard and leans back down to rest his forehead on hers. Their noses bump and curls his arms around her in a semblance of a hug. They simply breathe together, allowing the other to digest the words that were just said.
“Hermione, I-”
His words are cut off as a hard banging begins to ring out in the workspace. “Fred! Ron and Ginny are asking for you! So you better get out here and deal with them. Bloody kids asking for-”
He pulls away just far enough to kiss her forehead and sigh. “We’ll revisit this another time, yeah? Promise.”
He feels her nod against him and then step away. Her eyes are still filled with that same fire. He finds it, much like her boldness and bravery, to be catching. He has one more thing he’s desperate to ensure lasts. The promise of something more, the start of something more . He’ll be damned if this witch in front of him isn’t standing victoriously at the end.