Written for Kara (Love From a Muggle).

Yellow Daisies

I

Diagon Alley is coming alive again. Fred is enjoying the people and the noise and the colours, and trying to curb his frustration at having to match his pace to George's slower one. It isn't even really frustration, just the feeling that on a morning like this you should run and jump and canter along, and George (even mentally, Fred will not call him "poor George") with his stick and his limp, can do none of those things.

The shop – their own shop – is currently in a state that Bill, in his big brother fashion, calls "encouraging." Charlie, being a great deal more honest, calls it "a half-arsed attempt to make things look normal." There are boxes back on the shelves, and the broken glass is mended, but there are still gaps where they have had neither the time nor the materials to replace damaged and stolen stock, and the paintwork leaves much to be desired, even with the graffiti removed. Still, it is their shop, and it is open and trading again. It could have been so different.

Every night – and Fred will admit this to nobody, least of all George – Fred is woken by the same dream. The screams, the flashes of light, the explosion, and the wall falling down and burying them all. The frantic digging through the rubble, Ron's desperate expression, tears on Hermione's face. And then finding them, and the blessed relief that it is Percy and not George who has died. Followed by the horrible crushing realisation that Percy, their brother Percy, is dead, his forgiveness and welcome home barely two hours old, the reconciliation still new and sparkling with no time for jokes or pranks or laughter or ganging up on "Perfect Prefect Perce" ever again. And the guilt at the relief that it is him and not George. You should not feel relief at your brother dying.

Today, there is something – or someone – new as they come to the shop. Tall and gangling and familiar, baby brother Ron is waiting for them on their doorstep, leaning against the wall and looking hopeful in that puppy-dog way he has.

"What are you doing here?" demands George, as Fred swishes his wand and mutters the charm to open the door. "Aren't you supposed to be in Oz with your lady love?"

Ron colours to the tips of his ears and mutters something unintelligible. The only word that Fred catches, as Ron slouches after the two of them into the shop is "anymore". Later, as Ron helps Fred put up new shelves in the back room of the shop, while George stays behind the counter and serves the (few) customers, Fred gets the story out of him. Hermione found her parents, restored their memories, and met a bloke in a bar – an Aussie wizard named Bruce, who swept her off her feet, and apparently made her heart leap and her brain fizz as Ron never had and never could. She is still in Australia: Ron has come home alone. Fred tries the bracing treatment, telling Ron that he is too young to settle down, that it was better to split up now than further down the line when they had more invested in the relationship, and that there were plenty more witches in the cauldron (a metaphor that makes George guffaw, and Ron glare at him moodily). At the same time, Fred feels something odd, a tiny lurch of something in his guts that he might have identified as happiness or hope if he'd stopped to think about it, but which he puts down to having only had six rashers of bacon, four sausages and three eggs for breakfast.

II

Hermione comes home in July, without her parents and with a broken heart. The gorgeous Bruce was only after one thing, she tells Ginny tearfully one night soon after her return, and Hermione – being Hermione – wanted a relationship based on something more. And Fred can't blame her for that. (He is listening in with an Extendable Ear. If you asked him why, he would be hard pressed to explain himself – Extendables are for parents or enemies or Percy, not for your friends. He'd be even harder pressed to explain why he is hiding what he is doing from George.)

Ron is enjoying being young, free and single, out on the town every night with Dean and Seamus and Neville. He wouldn't have Hermione back even if she begged him. And she won't.

III

Percy's birthday in August is an ordeal for everyone. Mum insists on serving meatloaf for lunch, that being Percy's favourite. She cries steadily the whole way through the meal, and halfway through, Fred finds his own eyes becoming wet. He misses Percy, although he will never admit it. He bolts outside – Fred Weasley is not one to let others see him cry. When he hears light footsteps behind him and feels a hand on his shoulder, he expects it to be Ginny, but when he turns around, having got his face more or less under control again, it is Hermione who is standing there, looking worried, with tears in her own eyes. Fred has never noticed how beautiful those eyes are before. He manages a faint grin, and tries to make a joke of it.

"Percy would be over the moon at us all grizzling over him," he says. "He always thought he was more important than we gave him credit for."

His voice catches on the last word, and suddenly he is crying again. Somehow, he doesn't mind crying in front of Hermione. She pulls him close and rubs his back until he stops.

IV

In September, Fred sends Hermione yellow daisies for her birthday. She is living in a flat in Exeter, studying at college for something called "A levels". She wants to go to Muggle university and then work for the Ministry.

"Won't you need NEWTs for that?" George asked, one day at the end of August when Hermione was helping them out in the shop.

Hermione shook her hair back, and smiled. "I am Hermione Granger. I'm one of the Golden Trio. They'd bloody well better give me a job when I ask them for one."

George laughed, but Fred caught the note of defiance in her voice. Hermione wanted to be her own woman, to do things her own way. But Fred had a notion that she was still frightened.

And he is sure that she must be lonely, in her tiny flat, with only textbooks on Muggle law and history and a couple of things ending in "-ology" that Fred has never heard of to keep her company. Her parents are still in Australia, Ron and she can barely be civil to each other, and although Harry will remember and send her a card, it doesn't seem much to Fred for someone who helped save the world a few short months ago. Besides, he misses her.

He tries to write a poem (just as a joke) to go with the flowers and make her smile, but it comes out dreadfully, like something a lovesick Snape might write, so he screws it up and throws it on the fire. He writes a note instead and asks her to dinner that Saturday night in Diagon Alley's newest restaurant, Luisa's. She accepts by return of owl, and Fred is oddly excited. Since when has he felt like this about Hermione? He can't fathom it.

V

On New Year's Eve, Dumbledore's Army – what's left of them – congregates in Merlyn's, the bar at the end of Diagon Alley. The alcohol is flowing freely, and they are loud and jovial and trying just a little too hard to ignore the gaps in their ranks.

Seamus has brought jello shots, recommended to him by his Irish American cousin, Grady. Fred has more than his fair share, and feels his brain becoming muzzier and muzzier as midnight approaches. He watches Ron snogging Lavender Brown in one corner, and his twin wrapped around Luna Lovegood of all people in another, and feels suddenly and terribly lonely in the midst of his friends. Someone giggles and trips over, landing in his lap. Hermione smiles drunkenly up at him, a brightly coloured shot in each hand. She hands him one, and kisses him as midnight strikes.

Fred thinks once more how beautiful her eyes are, and then he doesn't really think of anything for a while. It feels right having her on his lap, even if it is only because she is drunk and so is he and they are both a bit lonely. It doesn't mean anything.

VI

Charlie comes home for a weekend in the middle of January and ends up in the flat above the shop on Saturday night with Fred and George and Ron, drinking Firewhiskey and swapping stories. Fred listens to his elder brother holding forth about some escapade in his schooldays when Tonks got terribly drunk, and realises from the look in Charlie's eyes that he loved Tonks then and loves her still, even though she married Remus and is now dead and gone. He wonders if he will ever feel that kind of enduring love for anyone.

And it hits him like a "Stupefy", out of the blue and almost as terrifying. He does. He has for a long while. He loves Hermione.

The others can get no sense at all out of him for the rest of the evening, but they put it down to the number of glasses of Firewhiskey he has consumed.

VII

He lays his plans carefully. In his more optimistic moments he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Hermione feels the same way about him as he does about her. At other times, he is sure that he is kidding himself.

He has set Valentine's Day as the now-or-never, do-or-die day. When he comes into the shop, heralded by the squawking of the toy monkey over the door that Charlie gave them, George is already there. They both slept at The Burrow last night, but Fred is late, having had things to do.

"All set?" George smirks, and Fred glowers at him. He has not let his twin in on his plans, but George knows him far too well for him to hide them entirely. He puts up with his brother's good-natured ribbing all day.

Hermione's owl comes at four, long after Fred has given up hope of hearing from her. He sent a note with yellow daisies, asking her out that evening. He hopes that it is obvious that his intentions are romantic, not friendly. It being Valentine's should be clue enough for a witch as bright as Hermione.

She has got the message. Her own note is on purple parchment, and sealed with a row of kisses and one tiny heart. She would love to go to Luisa's with him this evening; she is looking forward to it.

Fred takes her more yellow daisies when he goes to pick her up, and she kisses him when she opens the door.

He has a good feeling about this. It is the start of something good.