Chapter 2. Filia

Hermione sighed into her bathtub and watched the water ripple away from her. She shivered from the increasing chill in the air. Hermione reached for her wand on the nearby sink, but her fingers brushed against another object.

She sighed again and grabbed both items. As she muttered a warming charm to heat the water, Hermione reread the pink card in her hand.

The poem, for all its sickeningly sweet sappiness, had made its point. She was invited to some ridiculous ball for Valentine’s Day, and at Hogwarts, no less. Hermione laughed. How did Professor McGonagall agree to such nonsense? she thought as she traced her finger against the Headmistress’ signature.

Of course, Hermione would be socially obligated to attend. How could she not go to such a grand spectacle – she who had helped defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters alongside the Boy Who Lived? Why should she bother with all of this silliness?

Perhaps to see your friends? A stray thought queried.

Ah, but there was no point in that. Ron and Lavender had their family, and Harry and Luna were probably on their way to starting one. Ginny would most likely get her into some trouble with a sore sight of a wizard…she always did when Hermione agreed to go out with her on an evening excursion.

If Hermione did go to the ball, she would have to use her accustomed post as a wallflower. Years of annual victory celebrations after the war and Order of Merlin ceremonies had taught Hermione to sit at the sidelines.

But what if I could find lo – someone I liked? Hermione snorted at the thought and set the invitation and wand back on the sink. She then reached for a glass of wine that was waiting to be consumed.

As if that was likely, she thought while sipping on the wine. I have spent five glorious years on my own, and will spend another five years as such!

“Cheers to being single!” Hermione hiccupped as she clinked her glass against the edge of the tub.

As Hermione submerged her head underwater, she still hadn’t answered the question – would she go?

~*~

“Are we in it, or are we in it?” George waved the pink invitation in front of his brother’s face.

Fred snatched the card from his brother’s hand and read it over again. “Could I just think about this for a second?”

George took the card back and hid it behind his back. As Fred tried to grab it from him, George said, “It will be right fun, it will!” He used his other arm to wrestle Fred down to the floor.

“I never said it wouldn’t,” Fred gasped as he flipped George over and stood over him. “It’s just that the antidote won’t be ready for another week or so–”

“It was your plan from the start – you executed the first step before you even told me what it was that you were doing!” George pretended to get up and grabbed Fred’s foot instead.

Fred shook off George’s attack and sat on a chair. Their chair. The whole Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Shop and the flat above it were theirs. The Hogsmeade branch of the company, formerly known as Zonko's Joke Shop, was being renovated as a store and manufacturing centre. It would be a great risk to what they had to carry on with the plan… and yet… Fred placed his head in his hands.

“You’re right – I’m just nervous, that’s all,” said Fred as George went over to him and placed his hand on Fred’s shoulder. That was precisely what he needed.

George cursed, pulling remnants of the well-aimed water balloon out of his hair.

“It never gets old, George, it never gets old.” Fred grinned and picked up the fallen invitation from the floor.

George shook his head, splashing water onto his brother before muttering a charm to dry himself.

“Neither will our plan,” he said while staring at the dampened pink card in Fred’s hand.