Written for the Twin Exchange September Challenge! Prompts: purple, Crookshanks, humming, Hermione's birthday, "I said some awful things that night, didn't I?"

In the Way

September Seventeenth

"What exactly is she doing here again?" asked Fred angrily.

George shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I don't know. I'm not bothered or anything. She just says she needs somewhere to spend some time on paperwork."

"And why does that 'somewhere' need to be the back of our shop?" Fred seethed. "Fine, she can get her work done, but I haven't been able to properly work on product development for a month now!"

Hermione had shown up to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on a Sunday around six weeks ago, begging Fred and George to let her stay for an afternoon so she could quietly work. She had been stopping by almost daily since then, bringing a small desk and chair after a week, 'so she wasn't hurting her back by hunching over on their stairs,' she had explained. More personal items started appearing on and around the desk in the days that followed, creating what was starting to look like a permanent workspace.

Fred paced the floor of their living room. George had insisted that they have this conversation in the flat they shared just above their shop, out of Hermione's earshot.

"Look, Fred," said George. "I've tried to ask her about when she's leaving and all that, but she keeps insisting it's not going to be for much longer. She's arranged things so that she's really not taking up a lot of space, and besides, she's been doing all of our accounting by way of thanks. So I just figured it's not so bad right now. I don't even notice she's there, you know?"

Fred spun around to face his twin. "I'm sorry, but I have to call bollocks on that one," he said, fuming.

George frowned, confused. "Uh, what one?" he asked.

"On 'not even noticing she's there,'" Fred answered. "How can you possibly not notice that she's moved some of our shelves and supplies around to make room for all of her stuff?"

George laughed. "You mean the shelves that were such a mess we could never find anything?" he replied. "She told us ahead of time that she was doing it, and frankly, who cares if it was done to make space for her if they're now better organized than they've ever been?"

"That's not the point!" raged Fred. "They aren't her shelves to reorganize! And what about the fact that she's using one of them as a bookcase now?"

"Please, she's using a single bottom shelf on one of the units," scoffed George. "Since she reorganized everything, we have three completely empty shelves. I don't care if she uses one."

"Well, maybe you should!" said Fred, throwing his arms up in exasperation. He continued to pace, and George shook his head, for once not knowing how to deal with one of Fred's moods, as he didn't much understand why he felt that way to begin with.

George sat down on their sofa. "I'm really not getting what the problem here is, Fred," he said. "Yeah, she's been around a lot, but it hasn't really impacted me in any way. What is it that's getting you so mad about this?"

"She's just constantly in the way!" answered Fred, annoyed. "Don't you think so?"

"I really don't," said George. "I'm getting work done, she's quiet, so no, she's not in the way for me at all."

"Doesn't it bother Angelina that she's here all the time?" tried Fred.

"Nah. They were always friendly at school. Besides, it's not like Hermione's up in the flat. Angelina knows why she's here. No problem whatsoever," said George.

"Well, don't you think that her presence is just too distracting to get work done like you would normally?" asked Fred.

George cocked an eyebrow upward. "Distracting? How?"

"Just… by another person being in the backroom! By her stupid hair being constantly visible out of the corner of your eye! By that stupid humming she's always doing! Doesn't it drive you mad?"

George shook his head, a smug and knowing grin starting to form on his face. "I can't say that I have," he said.

"How is that possible? She does it all the time," Fred grumbled.

"Well, if I haven't really noticed, then I assume she's doing it pretty quietly," said George.

"That's not the point. Surely you've noticed. I'll be down there, trying to work, and she's just humming to herself all the time. I can't even tell her to stop because she's always got that Muggle gadget in her ears when she's doing it. That one with the white strings attached that little flat box. It's impossible to get her attention when that thing is out, but she just won't stop her humming."

"Right," started George. "Let's see if I've got all this. You're annoyed with Hermione being downstairs and want us to get rid of her –"

"Yes! Thank you!" said Fred.

"Because she's here all the time," continued George. "And when she's here, she hums a lot, which distracts you… from your work."

"Obviously," said Fred.

"And you can't get her attention while she's doing it. That's the grand total of things that are bothering you about her," finished George, grinning.

Fred paused, frowning. "You're ridiculous," he said flatly.

"Am I really?" asked George innocently.

"I don't like –" Fred stopped himself, and started again. "I've been dating a different witch every week. I'm not interesting in any one witch right now."

"That's true. You have been dating a different witch every week," agreed George, and Fred's expression looked satisfied, until George continued. "Nothing more than dated, though. And only for the past six weeks. You've talked long and loudly about the girls you're taking out, but you've never stayed over at theirs, or brought one back here. Are you sure you're not just trying to make someone jealous?"

Fred practically growled as he through his hands in the air. "What do I have to do to convince you that I just don't like the fact that Hermione is in the way all the time? Do I have to bring one of these girls back home? Because I will! I'm taking out Cho Chang tomorrow, and you will see us back here, and then you will know that you're talking rubbish!"

George shrugged. "You do whatever you like. I just don't see what there is to get so worked up about," he smiled.

He continued to grin as Fred angrily stormed off to his bedroom.

September Eighteenth

"Well, maybe just a quick cup of coffee," said Cho, hanging onto Fred's arm as he opened the door of his shop. "I've got a busy day ahead of me tomorrow."

"Whatever works best for you," said Fred, smiling at her. "I had a really great time tonight, so you just let me know when you'd like to do this again."

Cho smiled back, and squeezed his arm a little tighter. "Maybe it doesn't have to be a quick cup of coffee," she added.

Fred leaned down, and gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Go straight through to the back and up the stairs, and make yourself comfortable," he said, holding the door for her. "I've got to do a quick check of something out front, but I promise I'll be just a minute."

"Okay," said Cho, cheeks flushed.

Taking a moment on his own in the darkened storefront, he did a quick check that a small jar of one of the new products he and George had been working on earlier was still behind the counter, where he had left it. It was, and he took it with him, slipping it into his pocket, to store safely in their workroom. Though it was out of the experimental stage, some final tests were still required before they'd be ready to sell it, and he didn't want it getting taken by mistake.

As he passed through the door to the workroom, he was surprised by Cho waiting for him, as he had told her she could go right up to the flat. Her arms were crossed, and she looked unimpressed.

"What's up?" asked Fred.

"Well, it's just… You never mentioned that your brother is going out with Hermione Granger," she said.

"What, George and Hermione? No, he's seeing Angelina. Why do you ask, anyway?" replied Fred.

Cho stepped out of the way of Hermione's desk, and gestured in its direction. It was much, much later at night than Hermione would usually stay at the shop, and yet there she was, asleep on top of all her papers.

"Oh, she doesn't live here," explained Fred quickly. "She just sometimes brings some of her work here. She's not usually here this late at night, so she must have just lost track of the time."

"Really," said Cho. "So there's no reason for me to think that she lives here?"

Fred shook his head determinedly. "No reason whatsoever," he said.

Cho looked at him sceptically. "What about that?" she asked, pointing at the base of the desk. Crookshanks, Hermione's squashy-faced half-Kneazle, was curled up next to her feet.

Fred frowned. "What's Crookshanks doing here?" he asked himself aloud.

"How am I supposed to know?" Cho answered. "People generally tend to keep their pets in their homes, after all."

"Hermione's not living here!" he insisted.

"Sure. Whatever. I'm not going to be the 'other woman,' though. I had a nice night, but I'll see myself out," she said, walking back toward the front of the store, but not before mumbling, "I swear, the next guy I go out with better not even know Hermione Granger."

As Fred heard the front door of the shop slam, he ran to it quickly to lock it up again, and stood in the middle of his store, fuming. It wasn't enough that Hermione was around all the time, but now she and that stupid cat of hers were wrecking his dates!

He started pacing through the store. He'd had enough of this. He had to do something to blow off some steam, something to get back at her. Maybe if she knew she'd be the victim of some pranks, she'd leave, and he and George would have their workroom to themselves again. He had to come up with something…

He continued to pace, jamming his hands in his pockets. Feeling the jar he had shoved in there only minutes ago, he grinned as he turned it over and over in his hands.

Hurriedly re-entering the backroom, he surveyed Hermione and her workspace, determining the best place to use their latest creation. Spotting a partially drunk cup of tea beside her, he opened the small jar he had put in his pocket and dropped a small purple dragée into the mug, casting a quick warming spell on the tea.

Tapping Hermione on the shoulder, Fred hid the anger that was ready to creep into his voice to say, "Hermione, hey, wake up."

Hermione stirred, and took out her earphones, music still audible as she did so.

"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, Fred!" she said, embarrassed. "I guess I dozed off for a bit. I've just had such a busy week, and –"

"Don't worry about it," said Fred, putting on the most natural voice he could muster. "I don't think you were asleep more than a few minutes, so just finish up your work and your tea, so you can get home and go to bed."

Hermione nodded, and started straightening her papers, and gulped down the rest of her tea. Fred turned around to conceal his giggling, and pretended to busy himself at one of his shelves while he waited for the product to take effect. He continued to face the wall even as Hermione went off to the loo, giggling harder as he knew she would catch sight of herself in the mirror any minute now.

"FRED!"

He heard her holler down the hall, and finally allowed himself to laugh audibly. "Oh, you don't like our new Dye Job Dragées, Hermione?" he asked. "I just thought you'd like to see our newest creation. Take one and it dyes your hair for a day and then…" He was cut off in midsentence as she stormed back into the workroom, pure fury written across her face. He had expected to see a purple-haired Hermione, and he did indeed see that. He was not, however, expecting her to skin to have turned purple, as well.

"What have you done?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

"They… they weren't supposed to do that," he said nervously.

"'Weren't supposed to?' Did you test an experimental product on me?" she asked.

"Well, they aren't totally done, but the last batch didn't do anything like –"

"YOU COMPLETE MORON!" she screamed. "YOU UTTER IMBECILE! Why would you do something like this to me?"

"I didn't… I didn't think that –"

"Fred Weasley didn't think? Wow, I'm just stunned. There's a complete surprise to absolutely nobody at all!"

"Hey!" said Fred, finally finding some words. "I'm not the one barging into other people's homes and businesses, ruining their dates, and getting in the way!"

"Is that what this is about? My presence ruined your date tonight?" she asked, starting to organize her papers as she did so. Crookshanks jumped to the top of a shelf, away from the shouting and sudden movements. "I'm just so terribly sorry. After all, everyone knows exactly how serious Fred Weasley gets about women. Don't fret too much, I'm sure you'll be able to dupe some new airhead into spending an evening with you by this time next week."

"At least I have something to do some nights of the week! I don't just sit alone working all the time!" he shouted.

"Oh yes, because work is such a terrible thing!" she shot right back. "Maybe if you did a little more of that, you'd be able to legitimately test your products instead of needing to use your failures on unsuspecting supposed friends!"

"Failures? Hey, this one had worked, it just – why do I need to explain myself to you anyway?" he asked. "This is my home, this is my business, and you are not welcome here!"

Hermione pushed her purple curls out of her face and shoved the last of her paperwork in her briefcase. "Fine. Not a problem. If I'm in the way, even if it's just in the way of a completely useless pillock, then I have the sense to go. That's something you should work on, common sense. Then you wouldn't end up with such poxy products and dozy cows." She picked up her briefcase and looked up at the shelves. "Come on, Crookshanks," she instructed, and he leapt down into her arms. She walked over to the fireplace, and threw some Floo powder in it. Her mouth was set in a firm line, and she looked like she wanted to say more to Fred, but instead she simply stated "the Leaky Cauldron" before vanishing from the fireplace.

"The Leaky Cauldron?" Fred repeated to himself quietly, but had no more time to dwell on that thought before George came downstairs.

"What was all that shouting about?" asked George. "Are you and Hermione having an argument? Where is Hermione?"

"She left," answered Fred. "But not without throwing a lot of nasty commentary my way first. Like I said, she was in the way. Glad she's gone."

George furrowed his brow. "That's not like her," he said. "Did something happen? Did you –" He immediately stopped as he saw the jar of dragées still in Fred's hand. "You didn't," he said.

"She ruined my date with Cho," said Fred quickly. "Besides, it was just a prank. We'd tested them. I don't know what went wrong…"

"Went wrong?" asked George. "What happened?"

"Well, I just slipped a purple one into her tea, warmed it up, and –"

"You warmed it up?" interrupted George. "How? Over the fire?"

"Just a spell, and –" Fred stopped as soon as the words left his mouth. "We hadn't tested interaction with warming spells, had we?"

George shook his head. "What happened?"

"It did work. Her hair turned purple. It's just that…" Fred paused.

"Yes?"

"So did her skin," he finished.

George sighed. "So that's why she yelled at you and called you some names. Well, I can understand that."

"I never meant to do product testing on her," said Fred. "Just play a prank. Get her back for taking up our workspace. She'll get over it, and we have our space back to ourselves, so it's not the end of the world, right?"

"Where did she go?" asked George, the bridge of his nose pressed between his fingers.

"What?"

"Where did Hermione go when she left here? Do you know?" repeated George.

"Yeah, she used our Floo. Went to the Leaky Cauldron, but I don't know why…" said Fred.

"Well, I do," said George. "And I know why she's been spending so much time here. Found out today from Ginny."

"And?" prompted Fred.

"And she's living at the Leaky Cauldron for the last six weeks," George answered. "Same day she showed up here looking for a space to work. She'd been living with Seamus for the past year, right?"

"Right…" said Fred slowly.

"Yeah, so six weeks ago, she came home and found him with Daphne Greengrass," said George. "Turns out he couldn't deal with her long hours she'd been spending at the Ministry, he just didn't have the courtesy to tell her. She packed her things and moved out that night. It was his home first, so she could hardly kick him out."

"But why the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Fred. "Isn't there somewhere she could stay?"

"Her parents stayed in Australia after the war. Harry and Ginny don't have the room, with the baby on the way, and Ron and Luna's place just has enough room for the two of them. Hermione's basically homeless right now. Her hours have been too long for her to start flat hunting, and everything's so expensive right now, anyway. She's been working here because she likes to carry on with her paperwork in the evenings, but it's too noisy at the pub for her to concentrate, and she just doesn't have the space in her rented room for her desk," said George.

"I… I had no way of knowing," said Fred, feeling sheepish.

"And you do know it's her birthday tomorrow, right?" asked George.

Fred put his face in his hands. "I really messed up, didn't I?"

George put a hand on his twin's shoulder, perhaps with a bit more force than he usually might, before turning around and going back up the stairs. "You've got to make this right," he said.

Alone in his workspace for the first time in weeks, Fred slumped down into Hermione's desk, and started to think.

September Nineteenth

Fred knocked on the door of Hermione's rented room at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Who is it?" he heard from inside.

"It's Fred," he answered. As a silence followed, he spoke up again. "I'm here to apologize."

"I don't think so," she said. "I really don't want any company right now."

"Come on, Hermione, I've got a proper birthday-present-slash-peace-offering for you."

He heard an exasperated sigh from inside the room. "Fine, what is it?" she said, opening the door, but was immediately overcome by laughter as she saw a completely purple Fred Weasley standing before her.

He grinned self-consciously. "May I please come in?"

Hermione held the door open. "Why not?"

Fred entered, and found a very small room containing little more than a single bed and a fireplace as far as permanent furnishings, but was covered almost completely in stacks of books. Some suitcases were in the corner, open and stuffed with clothes and sundry items. He sat down at the foot of the bed, carefully avoiding Crookshanks, who he felt was looking at him suspiciously. Hermione sat down at the other end of the bed, crossing her legs. "All right, you can talk. For a bit," she said.

"You're missing your party," he said. "Everyone's at the Burrow waiting for you."

"Can you blame me if I'm not really up to it?" she said. "I'm guessing that if you were able to find me here, you've also been told why the last couple months haven't been so great for me. Add to that the fact that I'm completely purple? I'm just not up to being the centre of attention."

"Well, you'd hardly be the only purple person there now," he said, gesturing at himself.

Hermione smiled. "I suppose that's true."

There was a brief pause before Fred spoke again. "I still haven't actually apologized to you."

"No, you haven't," Hermione agreed.

"I am really, really sorry," said Fred. "I didn't know what had been going on, and I didn't remember it was your birthday, but even if not for all that, what I did was completely inexcusable. I deserve every single word you said about me and more."

Hermione looked down at her feet. "I said some awful things that night, didn't I?"

"Like I said, nothing I didn't deserve," Fred assured her.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think I agree. I was angry, and you deserved that, but I think I might have been unnecessarily cruel in some of the things I said. I guess I owe you an apology, too."

"Accepted," he said, and they smiled at each other awkwardly before he continued. "And I think that maybe I owe you an explanation for why I did what I did."

"Okay," she said hesitantly.

"Look, I've been complaining to George practically non-stop about you being in the way at the shop –"

"I tried to use as little space as possible!" she said quickly. "I cleaned and I organized and I've been doing your books!"

"I know you have. But I've still been complaining all the time. Something was really bothering me about you being there, but I didn't know what it was. And when you left last night, and your desk was empty, I think I realized what it was. George had been trying to tell me. What was bothering me was… Well, it was you."

"What about me?" said Hermione, frowning.

"Just… you. You being there. You keeping to yourself and doing things that kept reminding me that you were there, keeping to yourself." Fred took a second to process what he had said. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"Not in so many words," said Hermione.

"Hermione, I… I think I like you," he said. "I like you and I didn't know how to deal with that, so I've been behaving like an idiot and complaining and taking out other witches just to try to get your attention, and I feel stupid just saying all of this."

Hermione smiled. "I knew all that," she said plainly.

"You knew?" said Fred, stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, not so much 'knew' as 'suspected,'" she said. "Your behaviour toward me had gotten rather strange. But one can hardly say to someone who's constantly complaining about her, 'hey, I know you keep saying you want me to leave, but don't you think it's possible you just want to see me in my knickers?'"

Hermione blushed a deeper shade of violet at her own cheekiness, and Fred did the same at the mental image.

"Anyway," Hermione continued. "If you didn't seem to know that you liked me, I could hardly assume I was right about that, could I? A girl doesn't want to embarrass herself in front of the boy she likes by making an incorrect assumption."

"In front of the boy she likes?" Fred repeated, uncertain of what he just heard.

Hermione's cheeks went violet again, and she looked down, hiding behind the purple curls that fell in front of her face. "Well, yes," she said. "I believe that over the last few weeks, I have developed some feelings for you."

Fred edged closer to Hermione on the bed, carefully moving Crookshanks out of his way. "You like me, too?" he asked, still in disbelief.

"Despite all your complaining, we do get along rather well," she explained, seeming defensive. "And I know what I said the other night, but I've seen that you're smart and funny and you work hard and you're kind and –"

Fred cut her off by pressing his lips against hers for a quick kiss, pulling away hastily. "Sorry, I didn't mean to push you or anything, I just –"

This time, Hermione cut Fred's words short, pressing her mouth to his. Purple fingers entwined themselves through purple hair as they held each other closer. As they finally broke apart, Fred brushed some curls behind her ear. "So you forgive me?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "That depends on how much longer I'm going to be purple," she said.

"Based on our calculations, it will probably wear off overnight," said Fred. "But in the meantime, it's still your birthday today, for three more hours. Don't you want to celebrate?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little bit. I've still got a lot to worry about, other than just being purple," said Hermione.

"Maybe not as much as you think," said Fred. "You are welcome to use our workroom for your office space again. And George and I did some thinking and some fire-calling last night, and it turns out that Katie Bell is looking for a flatmate to move in with her next month. She's expecting you to drop by this weekend to check the place out and see if it's to your liking. Oh, and it's pet-friendly," he finished, gesturing at Crookshanks, who rubbed up against his hand in response.

"Oh, Fred! Thank you!" she said, leaning over to give him a grateful hug. "Not that Tom hasn't been a great landlord, but I need something permanent with more space, or I'd go mental soon!"

"Now do you think you're ready for a party?" he asked, getting off the bed and holding out his hand.

"Sure! We can Floo to the Burrow from here!" Hermione said, pulling him toward the fireplace.

"Uh, let's use the pub's fireplace instead," said Fred, guiding her toward the door.

"Why? There's a perfectly good fireplace right –" Hermione's thought remained unfinished as Fred practically shoved her out of her room.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HERMIONE!" shouted all her friends, who had been waiting for her in the pub. George set off some Whiz-bangs to spell out her name as Harry and Ron presented her with an oversized cake.

After blowing out the candles and accepting hugs and gifts from the partygoers, Hermione finally had the opportunity to turn back to Fred, who was waiting patiently in a corner booth.

"Did you do all this?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

He shrugged coyly. "I may have had some hand in it," he said casually.

She leaned in toward him for another kiss. He held her tightly around the waist, pulling her in close.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," he said, before renewing their kiss. Never had he been so pleased to admit George was right, but he knew it would never seem like Hermione was in the way anymore.

Thank you for reading! Reviews make me very happy. Voting starts on the 20th at the Twin Exchange.