Hermione felt itchy. She felt like she needed to retreat in on herself and break out of the walls of the flat at the same time. At first, she hadn't minded quarantine. But now it was several weeks later and everything was different.
Since early spring, there had been a new strain of virus taking over the streets across the world. Seeing as it specifically targeted magic, those in the wizarding community were most susceptible and were feeling the ache. Most of the Healers were busy in the hospitals trying to come up with an antidote or cure.
Now it was midsummer and the Ministry-issued quarantine was still running strong.
When she was allowed to work, she enjoyed running the apothecary in Diagon Alley. She had created a lovely book and tea shop inside the apothecary where customers could also pick up any potion ingredients they may require. But ever since quarantine was enforced, she had arranged for all of her deliveries to be forwarded to St. Mungo's until the travel ban was lifted. All that was left in her stock were dried ingredients that St. Mungos hadn't requested as they searched for the cure.
Ever since she had broken up with her long-time best friend and short-term boyfriend, Ronald Weasley, "home" had referred to the flat above the infamous Weasley's Wizard Wheezes joke shop with Ron's older brother, Fred Weasley. In a serendipitous coincidence, when Hermione and Ron had called it quits, George had just married his long-term girlfriend, Angelina Johnson, and moved out of the joke shop.
Initially, she had refused. She never wanted to rely on charity. However, the twins, Harry, Ron, and Ginny had ignored her protests and had sneakily moved her belongings one day while she was at work. She kept insisting that it was only for as long as she was looking for a new place, but the truth was she loved living so close to work and the subtle crush she held on her flatmate was nothing to sneeze at either.
Three years later, the witch still insisted it was "temporary."
Fred, the terrible flirt that he was, hadn't settled down at all as far as Hermione was aware, but that suited her just fine. She wasn't too shy to admit she had developed a tiny crush on the red-headed prankster in adulthood. He had matured very handsomely and Hermione would have been daft not to notice. Well, she was fine admitting that to herself but, as the aforementioned man joined her on the sofa, she definitely knew she could never admit it to the man himself.
She refused to evaluate too closely why she was completely indifferent to his twin brother.
Stuck at home, she had completed all of the different chores around the flat in a grand total of two days. She and Fred had their groceries delivered these days. She had completed all of her fun side-projects two weeks ago and had caught up on her reading in under two weeks. They had bought a Muggle television and had started making their way through her vast movie collection, but even that had grown old fast.
The worst part was that her flatmate insisted on being a partial nudist in these warm summer months and often walked around without a shirt. Considering her large crush on the man, she typically stored the vision of his cut muscles in the depths of her memories to revisit late at night when she was alone in her room, but it was almost becoming too much. Instead of getting over her crush on the man during this time of quarantine, she'd only grown to love him more. Damn stupid proximity.
As she lay on their couch with her feet in said crush's lap, dressed in a pair of sweatpants, a tank top, and with her hair tied up into a messy bun, she decided she had had enough.
"I can't take this any more!" Hermione yelled as she stood up and started pacing their flat.
Fred just looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.
