Hermione stood in the cool, early-morning shade of the Burrow’s backyard. This place just made her feel good. She stretched and smiled, bending over to let Crookshanks out of his basket. He took off in a blur of ginger fur into the side hedges.
Her smile faltered a bit when she thought of the letter, in a plain white envelope, sitting on the tiny kitchen table in the house she had just left. She had sat there, in her parents’ kitchen, clutching the letter in her hand, watching the sunrise and both hoping and fearing that her mum or dad would come down early and catch her sitting there. In the end, however, she couldn’t bear the idea of telling them face to face. She left the letter and snuck out of the house like a thief.
“Hermione! I thought that was you!” Mrs. Weasley’s smiling, waving figure stood in the doorway, “I’ve got your requested blueberry pancakes, come in, dear, come in!”
“You’re a lifesaver Mrs. Weasley, I’m starved,” Hermione grinned and waved her wand at her trunks, which tagged along beside her like faithful pets.
“Yippee!!! Another girl in the house,” Ginny bounced up from the long kitchen table, gave Hermione a squeeze and handed her a cup of coffee, “No offense, Mum.”
“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Weasley turned distractedly to Ginny, while several pots, pans and skillets clattered around on the stove and a spatula flipped pancakes on a griddle. She looked from her daughter to the rafters of the kitchen, where dozens of ornate metal lanterns were hung. Hermione followed her gaze and heard tiny snores emanating from the center of each, wherein reclined a dozing fairy. She grinned at Ginny.
“See what I mean? Wedding-induced senility,” Ginny bit into her toast with a chuckle.
“So, Mrs. Weasley, everything ready for the wedding on Saturday?” Hermione asked as she dug into her pancakes and took a bracing sip of coffee.
“Well, you know, Hermione dear, it’s going as well as can be expected, of course,” Mrs. Weasley sighed, continued, “Bill’s recovery has been nothing short of amazing, though he will always have those scars of course…” she paused for a moment, but seemed to gather inner strength, “But overall, I think it’s going to be a lovely party, just what we all need right now…” she trailed off again, and the two girls looked at each other over their breakfast.
The melancholy mood was broken, however, by two loud popping noises. Hermione suddenly had a lapful of Weasley twin. She shrieked in surprise.
“Ah, Fred, I told you to concentrate a bit better, you know you have a bit of a time Apparating before breakfast,” George stood to the side of the table, stuffing a pancake practically whole down his throat.
“Hermione! Spiffing good to see you! I knew the Burrow seemed smarter this morning,” Fred greeted her, wiggling in her lap a bit. He plucked her coffee mug out of her hand and took a long slurp.
“Fred Weasley, you are the absolute limit. Please remove yourself from my lap,” Hermione hissed this from between her teeth with as much dignity as she could muster. She could feel her face burning. The twins’ complete lack of self-consciousness had always embarrassed her (and also made her a bit jealous if truth be told). Ginny, she saw, had collapsed across the table, laughing.
“Oh, darling, must we always fight?” Fred batted his eyelashes at her, and slung the arm holding the mug around her neck. He took another swig of her coffee, dragging her along with him.
“Fred, leave the poor girl alone, for heaven’s sake,” Mrs. Weasley admonished, but Hermione saw the corner of her mouth twitch a bit.
“Oh, but Mum, can’t you see? Hermione and I are trying to work out our differences, aren’t we dearheart?” Fred settled down more firmly onto her lap, plucking a pancake from her plate. “Mum, dish ish delicioush. ‘Ermione, ‘ere, have a bitesh.” Fred aimed the fork at her face.
There was another popping noise “ or rather, a splintering one “ and the chair collapsed beneath them. Hermione lay on the floor, covered in coffee, melted butter and warm maple syrup. She shook her hair out of her eyes, looked up at Fred, who was still reclining on her, an expression of horror on his face. He caught her eye and tried to scramble off her, but slipped in a stray pile of syrup and came crashing back to the ground. She took a deep breath.
“You know, Fred, I am sorry to say I don’t think we’re going to be able to settle our differences,” she grabbed the fork from him, which he miraculously had held on to. She bit off a lady-like piece of pancake and chewed thoughtfully, “But, he’s right Mrsh. Weasely, theesh are delicioush.” The entire kitchen exploded with laughter.
“What in bloody hell is going on here?!?!?”
Hermione choked on her pancake. Ron and Harry were standing on the stairs, surveying the disaster below them. Fred bounced up and held out his hand to Hermione, who struggled to her feet. This wasn’t exactly how she had planned on spending her morning. What happened to girl talk and endless analysis with Ginny? And when did Harry and Ron ever wake up before 10 a.m. anyway?? She hadn’t been planning to change into a ball gown or anything, but she’d have preferred to be, uh, syrup-free (and not being accosted by his older brother) the first time Ron saw her today.
“Harry old chap, when did you sneak in? Ronnikins! You just missed Fred and Hermione’s demonstration of the new sport that will be sweeping the wizarding world! Co-ed pancake wrestling!” George bounded over and wrung Harry’s hand.
Hermione wasn’t quite ready to meet Ron’s eye. Ginny smiled at her and shrugged, as if to say, “Whaddya gonna do? These things will happen.” She turned to her two best friends.
“Hey, Hermione,” Harry engulfed her in a hug, seeming unbothered by the various breakfast condiments gluing her clothes to her body. “Kind of odd to see you’re the cause of all this chaos.” He smirked fondly at her. She turned to him. To Ron.
“Erm, that’s a very nice look, for your hair. Very…sticky,” he smiled nervously at her. He reached out and pulled a stray piece of dough out of the offending curl. Her stomach plummeted and rebounded. He was just…so tall. His ears were red but his blue eyes were twinkling. He seemed to be debating something as the rest of the kitchen went back to business as usual.
“Thanks a bunch,” she replied, not sure what was behind his teasing. Was he taking the mickey or, well, flirting?
“You know, Hermione,” he cleared his throat and pitched his voice low, so only she could hear him above the chatter and clatter of the rest, “You know what a big fan of food I am, but you didn’t have to cover yourself in it to get me to notice you. I’ve been noticing you for a pretty long time now.” His face matched his hair, but he looked pleased with himself nonetheless. He reached out again and wiped a smear of butter off her burning cheek, and her stomach flip-flopped in return. He held her gaze for a second and then joined Ginny, Harry and the twins at the breakfast table.
Forget plans, Hermione thought as she began cleaning herself off, this looks like it’s going to be great day, plans be damned. Ron glanced up at her from behind his overflowing breakfast plate and grinned at her. Life’s just chock-full of surprises, isn’t it? And she went to get herself another plate of Mrs. Weasley’s delicious blueberry pancakes.
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Hermione's arrives at the Burrow and (accidentally, for once) Fred and George cause her a bit of embarrassment during breakfast.