10. Visitors

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Hermione didn't sleep a wink that night. Somehow, after sleeping in the same bed as Fred for a week, she had grown rather accustom to his presence. Finding herself multiple times throughout the night, stretching her arms out to see if he had crawled into bed without her noticing. Only to come up with cold, increased sheets every time.

She woke that morning, to the sound of pots banging and the stove clicking. She threw herself out of bed, and pulled the door open so harshly it sent a gust of wind in her face. She shivered slightly, still adorned with her t shirt and cotton shorts.

Fred didn't turn from his spot at the stove, despite hearing the small gasp that tumbled from Hermione's lip. He simply kept cracking eggs in a bowl, even as she approached him.

"I'm sorry Fred, I-" Hermione began, but Fred cut her off by turning around.

"My mum and dad told me growing up, that if you ever go to bed angry at your significant other, than you are to eat breakfast with them the next morning. You don't talk until after you eat." Fred told her, handing the bowl over.

Hermione took it quietly, taking a small shocked step backwards.

"Where did you sleep last night?" Hermione asked, and Fred turned to grab a whisk.

"The lodge, Henry wasn't too pleased. I told him to fuck off. Now sit down, whisk and continue looking pretty while you do so." Hermione let Fred push on her shoulders until she sat down in a chair.

She set the bowl on the table, and whisked slowly as she watched Fred put a pan of biscuits in the oven.

They worked in silence. After a few minutes Fred took the bowl from Hermione, and promptly dumped the eggs in the pan before setting the bowl in the sink.

She watched him work, crossing her legs as he ripped up spinach and threw them in the eggs.

In a matter of minutes she had a plate in front of her, a warm cup of tea in her hands and Fred sitting across from her.

It felt slightly surreal. But she took his cue, and ate silently. Shamelessly devouring her entire plate. The first meal she had finished in months.

When Fred stood and placed both of their plates in the sink, grabbed the kettle and topped off their teas, then sat down again did Hermione open her mouth.

"I'm still sorry." Hermione blurted, watching as Fred calmly brought his tea to his lips.

"I accept your apology, and I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to well...explode like that." Fred admitted, wrapping his long fingers around his mug on the table.

"It sounds like it's been a long time coming." Hermione voiced, and Fred thought for a moment before nodding.

"George always told me, my one regret in life before I died was going to be I never told you how I felt. Suppose that's not the case anymore." Fred chuckled, and Hermione couldn't help but to smile.

"I had no idea you felt that way about me." Hermione said quietly, dragging her thumbnail across her mug.

"You weren't suppose to, I made sure of it. The only person that ever knew was George, and even so only recently." Fred said, leaning back in his seat.

"Would you have told me? Even if we weren't asked by the Ministry to get married?" Hermione asked, and Fred seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"Reckon I would have gotten around to it eventually. Though it probably would have taken something as catastrophic as this shit show for me to do it." Fred gestured to the cabin, and Hermione couldn't help but to laugh.

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