The Inevitable Fight

Chapter One

A/N: I am having a problem with bits of writing in the chapter randomly being cut out in the cut/paste process. If there is a portion that looks strange or has words missing, please message me so I can fix. Thanks.

The word seemed to radiate on her arm, a magnetic pull on his eyes.

Mudblood.

No matter how many times his eyes passed over the fine white lines, or how many delicate grazes of his fingertips passed over, the anger never waned. It was always lying dormant in the back of his mind, waiting to be conjured. It never took much—the errant push of a sleeve, the brush of her arm across his, an absent stretch as she rose out of bed. It triggered suddenly and without warning, pulling him from the moment with her and blinding his mind to any emotion except wrath.

It would happen simple enough- Hermione would be putting a mug away in the cupboard, exasperated by some Hogwarts related frustration or another. The light would ignite her hair as she passed by the window reaching for another mug from the dish rack. That little crease of fervent determination would appear on her furrowed brow, venting in animated fashion about the obstacles in her latest crusade. Fred would be leaning against the counter, failing to stifle a smile as he sipped his cooling tea. Pausing, he would take a small delight in the wonder that was his wife, and all the quirks he adored about her, when her reaching arm would expose the bitter reminder of their long year apart.

Rage would consume him, diverting his mind to the malevolent plans he had drawn up for every Deatheater that had stood idly by, watching, enjoying, while Bellatrix had carved the accursed slur into her forearm. Then he would smile softly at the thought of his mother ending that bitch.

"Honestly, Frederick," Hermione would chastise in mock indignation. "I apologize that my vexation with the ministries relaxing educational standards pale to the urgent demand for Puking Pastilles."

"As you should be," he would jibe, letting his dark plans fade from his mind. "Puking Pastilles are a national commodity. You should be thanking your lucky stars your husband is keeping the economy afloat while you lot at Hogwarts are..." he would smirk, straight faced as he feigned ignorance, "I'm sorry, love... remind me again exactly what you lot do there?"

A dramatic eye roll would be her only response, and a swat against the back of his fiery head. She might pretend to be agitated, but she rarely ever was. He would catch her arm with his free hand as she walked away, laughing under her breath, slingshotting her back against him and enclosing her in an embrace.

"Well, if you don't release me, I'm going to be late for whatever it is I do."

"Glorified babysitter."

"Dropout."

Then their lips would find more gainful employment than trading retorts.

But, he was not always able to so cunningly evade her knowing eyes, distracting her with banter and kisses. The times she caught him were the worst, yet again leading to the inevitable fight.