Broken Bits

16. Sparkly Dresses

Hermione traced the bruising on Fred's side, the sound of birds chirping and the world waking up around them filled their room. She had opened the window last night to let fresh air in, after sobbing by herself for a near hour. Just simply overcome with the emotion that someone finally knew her secret. 

Fred was laid sprawled on his back, one hand tucked behind his head the other wrapped around Hermione. Hermione was nestled in his side, gently tracing the bruises that littered Fred's ribs. 

They were blossomed shades of purple, black and yellow. It looked almost as if someone had dropped balls of paint on him. In one hand they were beautiful, in the other they were an ugly reminder. 

When Hermione had nearly let herself fall for Ron again. When she had nearly given Ron everything he had lost, simply because he had apologize. Simply because he had asked for her back. Simply because he had kissed her. His lips had been familiar, a welcome home in some weird way, but Fred's lips were like a shot of whiskey. 

Hermione had yet to tell Fred how close she had been to simply following Ron because he was familiar. Because she knew what to expect. She knew how much it hurt when he cheated, and how wrong it was. But she could expect it, and busy herself with other things. It didn't hurt so bad when she was busy. 

With Fred, it was like diving into a pool that you couldn't see the bottom of. Fred didn't let her stay busy. He asked her to stay, explain herself and do better for both of them. He wanted to know what happened in her life. He wanted to know how she took her tea, and he wanted to argue with her. 

He stuck around to argue with her, he promised arguments. Ron always avoided arguments, unless he fully believed he was right, or felt like pissing her off simply because he could. 

Hermione looked up to trace his cheekbones, the early morning light turning his pale skin a shade of orange. 

Hermione knew, as she had been told numerous times that Fred loved her. Pansy had said it. George had said it. Fred himself had said it. She had all the proof right in front of her, and really she believed him. She honestly did. He had given her no doubts that he wasn't, despite what she told him, she knew how much he cared. 

The problem was, and Hermione was ashamed to admit it, was that she had always loved him to. But in a different way. 

In a way in which Hermione was afraid to let go of. 

"Good morning." Hermione's eyes unglazed to find Fred smiling at her, his eyes were droopy with sleep and his hair a ruffled mess as he ran his hand through it. 

"I know you said you didn't want to start over with me-" 

"We argue after we've had breakfast, remember?" Fred teased, rolling slightly to nuzzle her neck with his nose and throw his other arm over her body. 

"I'm not arguing, I'm just..please let me explain." Hermione whispered, wrapping her own arms around him to keep him anchored to her. Refusing to let him escape the comforts that was their bed. 

"Go on Granger, I'm listening." Fred murmured against her neck. Hermione took a deep breath, before she began. 

"I know you said you didn't want to start over with me, because you would lose all those years that you spent falling in love with me. I get that, well now I do." Hermione sighed, bringing a hand up to embed in his locks of ginger hair. It was her favorite place to touch him. 

"But I think I do need to start over. To fall in love with you the right way." Hermione said gently, Fred pulled away slightly so he could talk properly. 

"The right way?" Fred asked for clarification.

"I've always loved you Fred, but not from a distance like you have with me. I haven't imagined what it would be like to be wrapped in your arms, or hold your hand in front of a crowd." Hermione scraped his scalp gently with her fingernails as she continued.