fred&hermione - doing just fine on your own

chapter seventeen

hermione's pov.

i finished my soup with a little left in the bowl that i couldn't seem to finish, collecting my cutlery from the table and watching as fred hypnotically swirled his spoon around his empty bowl.

i passed his place at the table and touched his arm gently, he stopped immediately, looking up at me.

"what?" he asked, inquisitively.
"nothing," i replied, trying to not crack a smile at his innocence, collecting his bowl and clattering them into the sink, running some hot water on them.

i leaned against the sink when i felt a wrench in my stomach- not again. i grunted, breathing in sharply. i closed my eyes and felt a hand on the middle of my back, opening them to look up at the rather handsome red-haired giant looking down at me.

"again?" he asked.
i nodded, "i don't know what's wrong with me, normally i would, it's rather frustrating. i-eugh..." i wrenched again, shaking my head.
"cmon." he encouraged, and before i knew it, he threw me up in his muscular arms and carried me to the sofa.

i chuckled lightly, still wriggling in slight pain and i relaxed back into the sofa.

"fred, i really do think you're mistaking me for some sort of baby, carrying me around like this." i added.
"don't lie, hermione, i think you maybe enjoy being spoiled a little too much." he chuffed, sitting down beside me and flicking through an old quidditch magazine he'd found on the coffee table.
"oh, so you read now?" i asked.
"are you afraid i'm going to steal your spot light?" he replied, smiling cheekily.
"well, if you're doing so, then maybe i should too." i added competitively, racing from the sofa into the kitchen again.

i rummaged around the pots and pans; fred had created such a mess in the short space of time he'd been cooking, and found the old cookbook. i carried it back to the sofa, sitting down and curling up to disguise what i was reading- fred seemed to be very intrigued with the old edition of quidditch daily.

i rummaged through the pages quietly, sifting through many, many wrinkled pieces of parchment in molly's handwriting of rather abstract recipes. rabbit with lemon and garlic, stewed taffy apple and vanilla custard, etc. then i reached the back of the book, which was full of old sale stickers from grocery items, and blank pieces of torn parchment. but i found one that stood out rather interestingly.

it was a small piece of tea-stained parchment, with a rather artistic drawing of a girl in the middle, some in ink and smudged charcoal. she looked rather similar to me, actually. who could have drawn this? i thought to myself, glancing out of the side of my eye to fred.

there was no way, fred never showed an interest in anything apart from quidditch, jokes and girls...the odd time. i shook my head, feeling a tinge of jealousy, and nudged him gently. he perked his head up out of quidditch daily, looking at me questioningly.

"who's this?" i asked, curiously.
"nothing," he closed his magazine, blushing rather quickly and getting flustered, grabbing the parchment as if that would hide what i'd already seem.
"cmon fred, i've learnt many things about you today. you can cook, you can read-"
"so, you thought i couldn't read?" he argued, stifling a smile.
"no, eugh- fred weasley! merlin's beard, answer my question!" i exclaimed.
"it's nothing, it's- not even mine." he replied.
"so, who is drawing little sneaky sketches of me in your mum's cookbook then? george? ron? harry?" i added.
"no!" he exclaimed, smiling softly as his face flushed even redder than his hair, "-not them."
"who then?" i asked, standing up to face him, folding my arms, intimidatingly.
fred shook his head, avoiding eye contact, "it was me."
"hmm, shouldn't i have guessed?" i replied, then realising i sounded rather harsh and intimidating, "...i'm sorry, fred; it's really quite good, actually, it's very good- i like it."
"you're probably thinking i have this whole other secret side to me," fred confessed, seeming rather embarrassed.
"no, actually i-" i paused, swallowing the lump in my throat, "i actually think it's good to have a side you're afraid to show someone. because...then it's, i don't know, intimate when you show it to another person?"
"do you think?" he asked.
"i do, i mean, it's brilliant. i think you shouldn't have to upkeep this persona of 'prankster' all the time. there's more to you than that." i added.
"well, what about you, 'mione?"
"what about me?" i asked, feeling myself get rather flushed and anxious.
"what secrets do you have?" fred asked outright.
"i- i don't know, i don't have any? i thought i was a rather open, honest person. surely you'd have figured it out."
"well, you don't get to just suss me out so easily and expose me and then not confess yourself."
"i'm not doing this, freddie, i just wanted to know if the drawing was yours. i don't want to argue."
"hmm," he nodded, with a rather huffed expression.
"can i have it back?"
"what?"
"the drawing, of course."
"well, that depends." he began to grin mischievously, fumbling the parchment in his fingers.
"on what? fred, don't start this." i rolled my eyes, tightening the fold in my arms.
"well, i've drawn you, how about we make a deal? you draw me, and if i'm satisfied, we can swap." he bargained, his eyes twinkling with the knowledge that i would give in.
"no, i- i can't draw, it's not fair. why do you have to make such a big deal?" i huffed.
"i'm not, it's a simple bargain, granger. what do you think?"
i huffed, biting my tongue.

"well?" he enquired.
"fine. but you're not allowed to comment on how awful it's going to be." i replied, rather huffed that i had to give in and it didn't go my way, i thought i was a rather good negotiator.
"deal." he smiled, tucking the parchment into his pocket, "come on then, time's ticking."

he sat down, kicking his feet up to rest of the coffee table amongst the dusty magazines, patting the empty seat beside him. i shook my head, stomping over and sitting down next to him.

he handed me a blank piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil that was also inside the cookbook.

"you're so- so..." i began, shaking my head, frustratedly.
"so what? you bargained with me, granger. now, get to it." he teased.

i bit my tongue again and began running the charcoal over the parchment. merlin knows what it would turn out like- probably a disaster. eugh.

it seemed like fred and i had sat in silence for hours as he sneakily kept taking little peeks over at my rather awful attempted drawing, pretending he was really interested in reading the articles quidditch daily. he was such a spoof, honestly.

"okay freddie, if you're going to take little sneak peeks at my drawing, at least compliment the amazing job i'm doing." i added, sarcastically.

"oh, 'mione, its wonderful," he replied, rather la-dee-da and femininely, smiling with a twinkle in his eye.

"well, what do you think?" i asked, showing it off.

"hmm," he leaned in, snatching the parchment from me and looking down his nose at it cheekily, "pretty good, 'mione, you're almost as good as me."

"yeah, right," i scoffed, smiling and blushing, shaking my head at his cheekiness.

"think you're the next michelangelo, 'mione, hmm?" fred asked.

"perhaps," i shrugged, smiling at him, "so, what about our deal? am i worth trading with?"

"definitely," and he turned his piece of parchment over, scribbling a tiny message on the back. 

he handed it to me and quickly grabbed mine, running off into the kitchen with it. i grunted and shook my head, not even attempting to follow him because i knew he knew how physically incapable i was right now. 

"not coming to get me, 'mione?"

"you know i can't." i chuffed, looking at the tiny message on the parchment.

love me after all then, eh? - freddie 1998

typical cheeky weasley, i thought to myself. i struggled to get up off the couch and waddled into the kitchen, trying to put myself off the thought of the horrible pains. fred emerged from the corridor again, scratching his head and running his hands through his hair. he seemed on edge.

"you ok, fred?" i asked.

"fine, just- its getting late, i'm tired. aren't you? i didn't realise the time." fred glanced at the old grandfather clock sitting by the kitchen entryway.

9:30, where did time go? really does go by the saying, "time flies when you're having fun". 

"hmm, strange." i added, rubbing my eyes, tiredly.

"still sick?" fred asked.

"a bit," i nodded, scrunching up my nose at the though of any pain.

"tea?" 

"tea." i agreed, smiling. 

i sat down at the kitchen table, easing my back against the backrest. i huffed tiredly. 

"i thought with your brilliant mind, 'mione, you'd have figured out what's wrong with you by now. brightest witch of your age and all that?" fred asked, turning towards me.

"if i could, i would. but right now, it's gut wrenching and i honestly have no idea." i huffed.

"well, here's to the unknown then," he added, setting my tea down in front of me, and holding his out to 'cheers'.

i smirked, cheers-ing lightly with him. i stood up slowly and began to trudge upstairs, growing evermore tired with each step. i felt and heard fred following closely behind me. it created this weird sense of secure warmth and safety, and i smiled to myself as we disappeared into the room behind the door.