Hi! This is an update. It's been a good long while since I've done anything on here with this fic. I have been, however, rewriting it in a way I feel I can continue it. Whenever I do finish that, it'll be posted as a separate fic altogether and I'll post an update on this one about that so you can give it a shot.

That being said, this fic was the first fic I've ever written! It is by no means perfect. There are some cringe moments, some inconsistencies, some unfinished plot points, and a LOT of nicknames. Like, a lot of them. Too many.

I hope you'll keep that in mind as you read (or reread!) and check out my other stuff! I've got two other Harry Potter fics and one Doctor Who fic. I've got... too much in the works. I am currently taking a break on the rewrite of this to write something else, another time travel fic, though I've also been writing and rewriting another fic that I really love. Most of these are Hermione based, because she's my favorite character to play with. I'm dividing my time between multiple different fics because my muse is fickle and I'd rather keep her as interested as possible than bore her.

Anyways, back to the original notes!

Special shout out to padfootl0ve (my sweet dear big sister) for first getting me into fanfiction and then giving me a reason to write some! (Funny story that I'll probably tell you guys later.)

Anyways, I own nothing but the plot and any OC's later on.

Enjoy!

Hogwarts was mourning. The students and teachers, but also the school itself. The building seemed to droop, to let itself appear less than the cheery and well-loved place where the lost found a home and the hungry found the knowledge they so desperately craved. Old students returned for the funeral, but everyone knew it wasn't enough. They all knew it was the beginning.

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Hermione was wandering the grounds numbly. There were more people at the school than she'd ever seen before, but it had never felt more empty. Dumbledore was dead. The headmaster was gone, the mentor, the leader they all loved and needed had left them and Severus Snape had been the one to take him. She could remember that night, the night when Harry had walked into Gryffindor Tower with his eyes puffy and his right hand clenched around his wand, his fingers white. He stared blankly at her as he told her what he had seen, how Snape had killed Dumbledore and he couldn't do anything. It was the anguish in his voice that broke her.

So, three days later, Hermione wandered around the grounds, desperate to be anywhere but at the old man's funeral. Harry and Ron had each other, and she knew they could handle it together. She just needed time.

She was on the path to Hagrid's and stopped, sitting on a rock. She couldn't walk down there, not now. Hagrid's, more often than not, was a place for joy and companionship and peace. All there was now was coldness, anywhere she went. No. She can't think these thoughts; she can't analyze them. Not now. Singing. Singing is good…

"Oh Ms. Believer, my pretty sleeper

Your twisted mind is like snow on the road

Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder

Inside your head than the winter of dead…"

She cut off sharply as she heard something behind her, pulling her wand.

"Blimey, Mione, it's me!" She looked at the mop of red hair and brown eyes before shakily lowering her wand and letting out a harsh breath.

"Fred, you scared me… Why aren't you with everyone else?" Hermione's caramel and honey eyes were softer looking at him, though she continued to shake a little.

"I don't like funerals. And I couldn't see you with ickle Ronniekins and little Harry Pie, so I thought I would come find you." He sounded so sad and it made her heart hurt just a little. Hermione had always had a soft spot for Fred, even if she never showed it. In all honesty, he was probably her favorite male Weasley at the moment. Lavender and "Ronniekins" were always off sucking each other's faces off.

"They… they couldn't find his wand. I was looking for it before…" she trailed off, not wanting to say it. Wizards and witches were buried with their wands, and everyone knew it would be a shame if the greatest wizard of the century didn't have his. "I could use some help if you like." He nodded a little before giving her a small smile.

"You gonna sing again?" She blushed softly at his words. She knew he had heard, but she really hoped he wouldn't bring it up. She never sang in front of people.

"You heard that?" he nodded and kept smiling. He really had liked it. He almost wished he hadn't interrupted. "Hey, has anyone checked the Forbidden Forest?"

"Um… No, I don't think so. But Fred, that's too far away from the Astronomy Tower." He just shrugged and began walking toward the forest. "Coming, Granger?" She blinked before running to catch up. It was better than doing nothing, she supposed.

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"You gonna admit I was right?" Fred smirked at Hermione, picking up their late headmaster's wand. She rolled her eyes. "I just don't understand how it got here! He… I know Malfoy," she spat the name with more venom than Fred thought was safe in such a small body, "disarmed him before Snape… but I thought it fell off the Tower with him. That's what Harry saw, anyway."

"Stop thinking about it so much, Granger. We found it, that's all that matters." She reached out for the wand, and everything seemed to stand still when her fingers touched the elder wood. Her eyes widened as she felt a familiar sensation at her core. She couldn't move or speak, and it seemed that Fred couldn't either. After what felt like hours, she felt the tugging sensation grow stronger and stronger until it felt like she was being ripped apart. She wanted to scream, but it wouldn't leave her throat. She couldn't be sure how long it lasted, but when it was over, she could feel herself closing down from the pain. The last thing she saw was the panicked and pained look on Fred's face before she blacked out.

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"Umm. Pads, do you see what I see?"

"Ya know Prongs, I think I do. I suppose we should go help, huh?"

A moment later, Fred could feel the cool touch of magic against his arm, and he groaned. It was a healing spell, that much he knew. "Mmmrah?" He asked cleverly.

"Prongs, this one mumbled! I think it's alive."

"Shut up, Pads. Is he awake yet or- "a squeal cut him off and Fred heard a distinct "oomph" from where the voice came from. Time to open my eyes, I suppose.

Groaning, he leaned up and opened his eyes, feeling rather like Frankenstein from that muggle book his dad read to him as a kid. Taking in the scene, he saw two boys with raven hair. One had a smirk on his face and gray eyes, and the other…

"Harry?" Hermione! He knew that voice. He looked over and saw her frowning, lying on top of a disgruntled looking Harry. Or… not Harry? What in the name of Merlin…?

"Hermione?" he groaned and moved closer to her. She looked over at him, eyes wide, looking more afraid than he'd ever seen her. "Granger, what's wrong?" Instinctively, he put an arm around her and pulled her close. He knew the boys were staring, but it didn't matter much at the moment.

"Harry? Who's that? I'm James, James Potter."