Hermione and Fred: A Mischievous Secret

Floors Above

Fred and Hermione had a week-long, ongoing, unspoken conversation in which they communicated between winks, smirks, and muffled giggles after their Hogsmeade adventure. The conversation didn't really have a topic or any sort of meaning but it was there, a big inside joke that they didn't even know about.

It ended abruptly when school drew near. In 3 short weeks, Hermione would be back at school with Ron and Harry. She withdrew herself from her regular Weasley activities and began preparing for school while her best friends still fooled around with broomsticks in the backyard.

Hermione wasn't exactly nervous per say, she loved school. But this year felt different. With all that happened last year and the years before, uncertainty lingered in the air. The witch knew what she signed up for being Harry's friend and she was ready to die for the cause, but just not now. She had so much she wished to do. First kisses that have yet to linger on her lips, unread books that begged to be read, adventures that relentlessly called to her, teenage experiences that she lacked. Sometimes she wished for her old muggle life with loving parents always close by and the ability to be stupidly adolescent. But this was the life she was gifted with and she was going to make history with it. With a small look of longing, Hermione rolled over and turned off the light. 

A floor above, a certain redhead's thoughts spiraled about with fear, worry, and the same uncertainty Hermione felt. There was the impending doom that weighed above every wizard and witch lately but that wasn't the focus of Fred today. He thought back to their morning conversation two weeks prior and he remembered how she was so concerned about his future and how he hadn't been. Recently the unknown roads began to frighten Fred. He no longer had Hogwarts as a home. He had a business to run; one he had doubts about. He loved the shop with all his heart and wouldn't let it fail. Fred knew that it was important and he was prepared to put every bit of himself in it. But he did miss Hogwarts. The thought of never annoying McGonagall again, not driving Filtch mad every night, and never pairing up with Peeves again made him shudder. 'Maybe she was right, maybe I did need my education. Couldn't hurt to learn something new for the shop,'  Fred offered to himself. 'But George would never go back and I can't go back without him,'  He argued back. With a sigh of defeat from the self-debate he somehow lost, Fred rolled over and turned off the light. 

And a floor above, the matching half to the previous redhead was also thinking hard, but not about the same things as the other two. He did have nostalgic thoughts about Hogwarts; the late night common room talks, infinite pranks against teachers and classmates alike, and of course messing with his younger brother. But the thoughts alone weren't enough to push him back to school. George pondered on what Fred actually felt. He knew Fred loved the store but he saw the flicker of dissatisfaction in his twin's eyes every now and then. George also wanted more, but not the more Fred wanted. He saw that Fred wanted a forever. Fred wanted a family, someone to share his adventures with. One he creates himself. The thought wasn't appalling to George but it wasn't his first priority. He wanted to create a name for his "now" family. He wanted to prove the rich snobs like the Malfoys that the Weasleys weren't just a bunch of ginger hobos. They were smart, courageous, loving, and just as good if, not better, than them. George adored the idea of his mother having a lavish lifestyle where she didn't need to count every last knut. He wanted to show the world what being a Weasley meant and if owning a joke shop was the way, so be it. With a small spark of hope and drive, George rolled over on the upstairs couch where he had been testing new products, turned off the light, and fell into a peaceful sleep filled with fantasies of fame. 

Hermione relentlessly tossed and turned in the small twin bed trying her best not to wake Ginny. She had a deep-rooted need that had no way of expressing itself to her that kept her up. All it told her was to move. She didn't know exactly why, but she listened. Quietly, she crept out of bed and went where her intuition told her; Down two flights of stairs and into a hallway. It brought her there but nothing was to be seen except for a small disheveled bookcase, a seeming unused fireplace, and a sad looking couch that was held together by flannel patches and duck tape. Hermione decided to set herself down on the couch and pull out a book that happened to be an old Muggle fairytale.