Authors Note: This has not been edited by anyone other than me, please pardon any errors I may have missed when I was proof reading. This fiction will follow cannon with the exception of Hermione and Ron being together post-war. It also features a soul bound relationship between Hermione and Fred and George; there is no sexual relationship between the twins and Fred is dead. If any of this is offensive please do not read. This fiction also includes reincarnation and there is a certain complexity to the situation due to Fred's pre-mature death, I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
Prologue
George hated May 2nd. It was the same every year with people over-filling the streets of Diagon Alley laughing and cheering, celebrating the end of a war that many weren't even aware was happening at the time. All the while a lonely man stood in the shadows of a third story window of a brightly colored building that proudly pronounced "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes", dreading the anniversary of his twins death.
How could people be laughing and smiling on the day that so many had given up everything that mattered to them in the world? Poor Teddy Lupin would never remember his doting, clumsy mum or his regal and adoring dad. Severus Snape would only find vindication and appreciation for all of his sacrifices in his death, remaining vilified throughout his life. And Fred. The drop out, the prankster, the genius behind laughter. Fred would never be forgotten and his death would forever scar his best friend, his partner in crime, his twin.
Downing another glass of Odgen's Best George Weasley silently drowned his sorrow, cursing the men and women who dared to celebrate on this darkest day.
Hermione despised the anniversary of the Final Battle. Every year it would come with requests of interviews, unsolicited photographs popping up in every major publication, and articles promising the "The Truest Story of Hermione Granger: War Hero, One Third of the Golden Trio, and Best Friend of the Boy Who Lived". Hiding away in her bedroom a small woman sat silently crying over a pile of photographs.
How people could be celebrating across wizarding Britain, she would never understand. May 2nd may mark the end of the tyranny of Tom Riddle, but it also marked the loss of so many lives. Lives lost on that day in 1998 and lives lost in the course of over two decades previously. The havoc that one man could wreck did not surprise her; after all she had grown up hearing about another man not unlike Tom Riddle by the name of Adolf Hitler. What did astound her was that people could so easily forget the sacrifices that people had made.
Looking down at faces that were in various states of happiness tears poured down Hermione Granger's cheeks as a choked sob escaped her quivering lips. With a grimace she lifted a trembling bottle to her lips and swallowed another gulp.
In place not unlike Heaven a ginger-haired man watched as the two people he had loved most in the world drowned in their sorrows. Beside him another man with sandy hair streaked with grey, rested his hand on the ginger's shoulder.
"It's been 3 years Fred, and they aren't moving on. If anything they are going kill themselves within the next year," whispered Remus, "I think it's time that we step in."
Silently Fred nodded. It hadn't been easy to watch his brother fall into a never ending depression, nor their bond-mate. It was funny how some things didn't become clear until death, like how little Hermione Granger was the soul mate of him and his twin. Leaving school and the search for horcrux's had not given them the opportunity to recognize the bond, and Fred's own death had severely damaged it. He couldn't help but blame himself for the unrecognized bond; it was he who had always had the idea that Hermione might have been their third but Ron's infatuation had kept him from ever testing the theory.
"They are so lost in their depression that they don't realize that they are feeding each other's pain. She doesn't even fully understand why she is so lost, and he can't get past my death to find her." Fred scowled darkly, "You would think my twin would realize she was out there; no person can survive the death of both their bond-mates."
Remus squeezed Fred's shoulder, "It's not always that simple Fred. Think about how long it took me to recognize Nymphadora."
"We've been together in every life we have ever lived. He is not incompetent just because I'm not there and I refuse to let them wither away because I died." Eye's flashing Fred turned away from the images of his beloved brother and their witch, "They have another 80 to 90 years before I'll let them die, and we can be re-born."
"You're willing to wait that long until you can see them again?" It wasn't that Remus doubted that Fred was willing to wait that long, but that the man had the capability to. In circumstances where trio's such as the one of the Weasley twins and Hermione, the remaining bond mates rarely lived the full length of wizards and witches. Missing one third of a soul took its toll on the body, even when the surviving bond-mates were in a healthy state of mind, and usually the deceased bond mate's longing for the survivors eventually pulled them into death so that they could be re-born again.
Fred was unwilling to admit it but his own thoughts had drifted down a similar path, how long could he really last without pulling George and Hermione to him?
"I think that they deserve it this time. There was one life when Hermione died during child birth. She gave us a beautiful boy, I can't remember his name but we held on for 35 years after she died." Fred clenched his hands unconsciously, "I want to let her and George to raise a baby together, she already missed out on that once and I don't want it to happen again." While there wasn't a baby yet, Fred hated the idea of that potential dying. Hermione and George may not know it, but she was the descendent of that baby boy and it didn't seem right to let the line die with the same women who had given life to it.
"In that case, do you reckon that they'll let you? How do you think Hermione will react when she finds out that she will have to wait until her next life to have that bond with you? Don't you think that George will feel guilty having her while you are dead?" Remus' piercing grey eyes met Fred's, and he couldn't help but wonder if the man had really thought his plan through, "Wouldn't it be better for them to bond, live out a decade or two without you and then die?
"The three of you will never truly be happy until your souls are on the same plane. On that plane or this one, bond-mates are meant to be together Fred. In that life with the boy, you had a reason to live. Let them bond and make the most of this life, but don't prolong the suffering of yourself and them. It wouldn't be right."
The glare on Fred's face made Remus remove his hand, "The thing about living many lives Remus, is that you have to learn to take the good with the bad. We can't let go of life every time one of our bond-mates dies. Though I wish it weren't true, but this won't be the last time one of us dies prematurely." Returning his gaze to the images of his bond-mates Fred didn't notice Remus walking away.
He had to do something. Hermione and George had passed out, both lying in crumpled heaps with the whiskey within reach. Remus might not understand it, but he couldn't bear for his bond-mates to live a less than full life. He would bring them together and then he would wait. After all, what is 80 to 90 years when you're already dead?
Chapter One
When Harry arrived at Hermione's small cottage he wasn't sure what he was going to find, yesterday had marked the third year since Voldemort had been defeated and his friend had been sinking into a deeper depression as May 2nd had neared. Ever since the Final Battle she had been different and seemed to pull away from everyone around her unless she was drug out of her home to see friends and family. As he stepped out of the fire place he could smell the lingering scent of stale alcohol that always seemed to linger in a room after extensive drinking occurred and sighed, knowing that his friend had been drinking in an uncharacteristic manner that was becoming more frequent. Walking to through the living room to the back of the house he knocked twice on Hermione's bedroom door before entering when he heard nothing.
She was lying in a crumpled heap on her bed on top of a spread out pile of pictures. Upon closer inspection Harry realized that the pictures were of the Order, Fred, Colin, and Remus and Tonks among others. Her curly hair was covering her face and her fingers were wrapped loosely around the neck of a mostly empty bottle of cheap whiskey which she had clearly been drinking from. Gently pushing her hair from her face with a sigh Harry took the bottle out of her hand and banished it from the room not wanting her to be tempted by the bottle later. As he started to pick her up Hermione began to wake, wrapping her arms around him neck and resting her head on his shoulder.
"They're all dead 'Arry," she slurred, looking up at him with blood shot eyes.
"I know Mione," Harry replied, "You want to take a shower for me, love?" Hermione nodded her head against his chest, her eyes closed again.
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, people are worried about you, you know? Your mum called me this morning because she hasn't heard from you in a month since you never showed up for your dad's birthday party," Harry carefully carried Hermione into her bathroom, sitting her atop the toilet seat. "Now, you need to take a hang-over remedy, get in that shower, brush your teeth, and call your mum. And then the two of us are going to have a long talk."
Hermione dutifully accepted the offered vial from her oldest friend and swallowed its contents watching Harry as he walked out of her bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Giving the potion a couple minutes to kick in she rested her head in her hands, trying to recall what had happened the night before. She remembered opening the memory box filled with pictures and crying her until she ran out of tears. She also remembered the bottle of whiskey and the harsh burn of it as it went down.
Turning on her shower and stepping into the claw-footed antique tub she let the water fall over her face. Harry was right, God bless him. Her mother was probably past being angry at her and her father beside himself with worry. Deftly washing and conditioning her hair, she closed her eyes. She had been a horrible friend and daughter of late, plagued with an all-consuming depression. If she was honest with herself it had started after the Final Battle.
The people they had lost weighed heavily on her heart and she felt guilty at the depth of her grief. George has lost his twin, Ron's heart was broken after Lavender, and Teddy had been orphaned; what right did she have to be upset still? She wasn't the one who would have to live the rest of her life without the people she loved most. Rinsing her body and hair she turned off the shower head. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to be better, it was just that she couldn't bring herself to leave her house most days and that she found more comfort from a bottle than her own friends. Hermione wrapped her towel around her head and tightened the ties on her terry cloth robe before finding Harry in her kitchen.
"You look better at least," he said as he pushed a plate filled with scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. "I wanted to make an omelet but you have practically nothing in your cupboard and fridge."
Hermione blushed, unable to remember the last time she had gone shopping for food, "Thank you Harry, you didn't have to."
"It doesn't look like you can afford to lose any more weight and since I'm here, I might as well."
Quietly she took small bites, pausing a couple times to sip at the orange juice that was positioned to the right of her plate. Hermione pushed her plate back towards Harry when she was full. At his glare she pulled it back towards her and slowly finished it off, feeling as though she would burst.
"I don't suppose you would rather talk to me before I call my mum?" She questioned.
"No, I think I'll wait until you are done talking to her." When her face fell Harry smiled softly, "I can see that you're okay, your mum can't."
Nodding her head Hermione picked her cell phone, having long sense managed to create a spell that would allow muggle technology to function properly with magic around, and dialed her mum. She talked to her mum for about 30 minutes before hanging up with promises to visit and call more often. Though her mum didn't yell at her, Hermione could tell that she was glad she had called but still angry that she had missed her dad's birthday party. She looked at Harry fidgeting on the bar stool and waiting for him to start their discussion.
"I'm worried about you Mione. Over the last three years you've been getting worse, hiding away during the day and drinking yourself half to death night. I know that the war was hard for you and I know that it takes time to heal from that. From what Ginny has said, George is doing about as well as you are." Harry paused to lift her chin up so that he could look her in the eye.
"We want you to get better, you and George. We want you to stop drinking and we want you to heal. Ginny found a muggle meeting that you can attend every week to help you stop drinking and find healthier ways to deal with your pain. I think that if you and George go together then you can hold each other accountable and can help each other with the things that you can't go telling muggles." Harry looked at Hermione, waiting for her response.
"How exactly do you think you are going to sell this idea to George, Harry? You say you understand but I don't think you do. You are made of stronger stuff than me, and it's not as though you lost your twin now is it? Not all of us can handle death and Dark Lords and come out as fully functional adults." Hermione jerked her chin away, closing her eyes, "Not all of us are going to ever be fully functional adults." Harry walked around the kitchen counter to stand in front of his second oldest friend.
"No, I just lost my parents when I was barely a year old, how could I possibly understand? Maybe the problem here Hermione is that you aren't trying to get better? Did you ever consider that when you were wallowing in your grief? Maybe if you made an effort to live, it wouldn't be so hard!" He didn't realize he'd been yelling until he finished speaking and saw that Hermione was crying.
"Ginny and I are going to pick you up tomorrow at 9:30pm and we'll be dropping you off at your first meeting. I just want you to get better, and if you don't stop drinking you are going to drink yourself to death. That's not how the brightest witch of our age should be remembered." Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight.
"If you can get George to go, I will. I promise you, Harry." Hermione clutched Harry to her, "I'm going to start trying to get better."
Nodding his agreement Harry pulled away and walked to her fire place, "Don't forget, 9:30 tomorrow night." As he disappeared into the green flames Hermione wondered if her day could get any worse.
Deciding that it could get worse, she grabbed a glass and a new bottle of whiskey and took it to her bedroom.