Hermione had forgiven his stupidity and even though things went back to normal after his apology, Fred still had the feeling that it was not enough. At first he could not put a finger on it, Hermione behaved very much the same as she had before, only with time he realized what he was missing from her.
She'd never said the words and neither had he and at first he had not minded. They were happy enough together, joking and cuddling and shagging like they belonged with each other - and they did . With every passing day, Fred was even more sure of it.
Leaving her after the honeymoon to work at the shop was hard , harder than it should be. As he went through his daily tasks his thoughts returned to his wife, replaying her smile or the feeling of her skin under his fingers. In the evenings he could not wait to close the shop down, almost running up the stairs to their shared flat where she sometimes was already waiting for him, sometimes not. In the first case, he could feel his heart jump happily in his chest and he would waltz into the room, scooping her up into his arms. In the latter case, he could barely suppress the disappointment blooming inside him and slowly it dawned on him, that he had fallen for his wife, badly; and he wanted her to know.
Only how to go about it? Should he just tell her? Or maybe thoroughly shag her first? What about a romantic candle-light dinner or maybe an evening walk along the beach? Fred did not know, the unlimited possibilities overwhelmed him, making it impossible to decide. But with every passing day, he became more restless, his kisses more urgent and frantic. Hermione happily received them all, returning them with equal enthusiasm and still Fred felt like it wasn't enough. His heart ached for more, he longed to tell her how he felt and a desperate corner of his heart wanted to hear the words in return.
One month into their marriage he finally could not take it any longer and making a spontaneous decision, he took Hermione out to the meadow he and his family had sometimes visited during the weekends. It was a beautiful Sunday and he had brought everything he thought they needed for a picnic: a huge blanket, snacks, drinks, books, a broom, and even Hermione's knitting supplies. It was all there, all perfect in a very chaotic way, and still Fred could feel his heart beating nervously against his ribcage, when he apparated them to the spot he had picked out. Would she like it? Would she think him premature if he said the words now, after only a month?
"We're doing a picnic?" Hermione asked, watching him as he set the blanket out for them.
"Yepp," he replied, popping the p in the hope to overplay his nervousness. He was not sure if it worked though, he could see Hermione watching him with her head inclined in curiosity.
Soon they were spread out on the blanket, Hermione sitting right next to him, nibbling on a biscuit he brought along.
"This is nice," she said, her tone relaxed. "What is this place?"
Fred smiled. "We often came here when I was a kid. It's not too far from the Burrow, you see? We'd take our brooms and my mum would pack all kinds of food and then we'd spent the day. It wasn't holidays, but it was the closest we'd get to it most of the time."
His wife nodded, her eyes looking around in wonder. "I can almost see you all, lounging here as a family, you boys flying over there tossing a ball pretending it to be a Quaffle. Must have been brilliant," she said, a nostalgic sigh escaping her lips. "Do you think we could do it again, meeting here as a family that is? We all made it through this war alive and now we also went through this farce of a Marriage Law. I'd like to think we deserve a little break - all of us."
He nodded. Hermione was right and the realization that she cherished the time with his family as much as he did, made his heart sing with happiness. She was...
"You're perfect."
The words were out before he'd even finished his line of thoughts.
Hermione looked at him in surprise, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she asked: "What? I'm not complaining, it's just that I don't understand where that suddenly came from."
No, she wouldn't, Fred mused, as she hadn't been present in his head when he secretly practised his declarations of love. In his head, they all sounded ridiculously flat, but it seemed like his over-eager heart wanted to give them anyway.
"Well, actually I've been thinking this for quite some time now," he confessed, sheepishly rubbing his neck. "And just now I once more realized how happy I am to have you, witch. True, this whole marriage law is a terrible idea, but without it... I am thanking my lucky stars it brought you to my arms, Hermione, because I'd absolutely hate to see you with someone else."
Hermione blinked owlishly. "I wouldn't... I'm not..." She stuttered, but Fred silenced her with a kiss. He didn't want her to get it all wrong. No, this was too important.
"I know that, love. I trust you. And that's not what I wanted to say at all. I merely wanted to tell you how happy I am to be married to someone I love," he explained, holding his breath while searching her eyes for a reaction. It came immediately, her eyes widening in surprise.
"You love me?" she repeated, her hand slowly reaching for his face. "Because I..."
"You don't have to say it back," he hastily assured her, covering her hand with his. "I didn't mean to pressure you, Mione. I just wanted you to know."
At that, she chuckled. "But I do , Fred, I really really do. I could show you, you know? One kiss a day, if you like, until you believe me," she suggested, leaning forward to close the distance between their mouths. "I could start right now..."
She did, her lips speaking a language that did not need any more words. She loved him back, Fred realized, as Hermione snogged the life out of him, her eyes twinkling with happiness and yes... love. Fred and Hermione Weasley were very much in love and no one who saw them would have ever had any doubt about that.
