Meditati

AN: I had originally hoped to have an update for "Falling Through Time" for today, but I'm still behind. Instead, I had an idea borne during last minute Christmas shopping and perfected through multiple helpings of popcorn cake. Merry Christmas

The hodge podge of house guests slowly straggled out of the kitchen.

The empty Butter Beers they had earlier in the morning had been placed in the sink and the crumbs of Sirius' breakfast still lingered on the table top. Hermione had only made it to Grimmauld place earlier that morning but Ginny had told her they had started the ritual of a bottle in the morning before Sirius' culinary display. Then after breakfast they scattered throughout the many floors, bedrooms and hideaways Number 12 had to offer.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione had asked Ginny, looking at the stairs that lead out of the dining room and towards the boy's rooms. "Is he-?"

"He says he's tired, but I think he's avoiding us," her friend sighed, leaning against the back of her chair in the dusty dining room. " Mum and Dad don't blame him-none of us do but I think he blames himself," Ginny explained before looking up at the stairs and rolling her eyes, "but what else is new."

Hermione turned her eyes to the stairs and back at her friend, "And Ron?"

"He's found an old Black Family Chess set that is enchanted for solitary players. He's been locked in combat since yesterday," Ginny smirked, "But who knows, maybe now that you're here he'll put his attention elsewhere?"

It was now Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, " Doubt that Gin," she said, shaking her head and smirking, "Highly doubt 've met your brother haven't you?"

"Suit yourself," Ginny shrugged, rocking her chair as she spoke, "As for me, I've been trying to knit some dish towels for mum for Christmas."

"Do you need some help?" Hermione offered, "My hats are starting to take shape, they don't look like plain bobbles anymore."

"Do I need help, yes,"Ginny started, "Do I want it?" she shook her head, "I wouldn't ask You-Know-Who to take up needles on this endeavor."

"Oh come on, please let me help? What else am I going to do if Harry's in isolation and Ron's in combat with a chess board?" Hermione asked. She didn't want to knit per se, not on holiday, but she supposed it beat the alternative of spending the day in the Black Family Library.

"What are you going to do?" a voice sounded behind her, "Harry sulking and Ron being the little General-doesn't sound like an ideal Christmas does it George?"

"Not in the slightest Fred," George said as he sat in the empty chair beside her, "Poor girl, she cancels her muggle vacation and finds herself alone and knitting-can't have that, can we Fred?"

" Nope, not at all," Fred smiled taking the seat opposite Ginny. He turned to his sister, "Are you sure you want to spend the rest of the day knitting for mum when you could go on an adventure with the three of us?"

Three of us? Hermione thought, looking up at George, and then Fred, wondering who the third was. Perhaps Lee?

"No, I need to have these ready for mum, she'll appreciate them when they're done," Ginny shrugged, "At least I think she will."

"We could float you a loan and you could come pick out something for Mum on Diagon Alley?" George offered, "Come on, wouldn't be that bad-"

Ginny shook her head firmly, "No, you three have fun. I'll just stick around here in case Harry makes an appearance."

"You'll have better luck spotting Father Christmas than Harry," Fred mumbled, glancing up the stairs. "Alright then, Hermione are you ready?"

"What?"

"You heard us earlier. We're not letting you stick around her knitting with Ginny and waiting for Ron to get off his high horse," Fred said, a smile spreading across his face with his play on words, "Come on, we're just going to stroll down the alley for last minute Christmas Shopping. Have to stop and check on a business venture but other then that-"

"-A harmless stroll in the open air with two of your favorite Weasleys," George finished, throwing a wink her way.

"What do you say Granger?" Fred asked, "Can't tell me you have all your holiday shopping taken care of now that you're spending the holidays at Headquarters?"

Hermione's stomach lurched, "Well, I hadn't planned on seeing Sirius over the holidays-"

"See! You need to get a gift for our host! Perhaps a care kit for Buckbeak?" George started.

"Or a care kit for him" Fred smiled, "Come on, we'll only be gone for a few hours. Mum's still at St Mungo's for the day, she won't notice if we're gone."

"Just a few hours, right?" Hermione asked hesitantly, "And just Diagon Alley?"

"We might venture off to a muggle road near by, see if we can find something good for dad," George explained, "but other then that, Here, Alley and back home. No funny business."

"Well some Funny business," Fred interjected, "but not the usual kind of funny business."

"Right," Hermione answered, looking over the two of them and not believing half of what they were saying. It seemed unusual to her, the twins trying to get her out of the house, and more so, trying to get her out of the house and to Diagon Alley with them. They were friends, more so now that they'd spent the last few weeks in the throes of the DA-but all of this was unfamiliar.

"Well I suppose-"

"Great," George grinned, sitting up and calling back to the kitchen, "Oi, Sirius-"

Sirius came rushing into the room, a meat cleaver in one hand and a wand in the other, "What's going on?" he asked, anxiously looking around the room as though he had expected a Death Eater to be lingering there.

"Er, nothing bad mate," Fred said, "working on dinner already?"

"Tonks brought over one of her mother's recipes, I was just practicing for Christmas dinner," he said embarrassingly, tucking the meat cleaver in his front apron pockets, "Mum had a knack for skelletons in the closet, I couldn't remember if we had cleaned them out of the dining room or not."

Hermione met Ginny's eyes and she could tell her friend was fighting back a laugh.

"Actual skeletons?" Fred asked, a bit of excitement in his voice, "like human skeletons?"

"Human, elf," Sirius listed, "Come to think of it I think there was a couple goblin ones when we were little-caught Dad double crossing them but dad got the last word-" he started and Hermione noticed him wink and she and Ginny.

"Cool" the brothers muttered, missing the wink and believing the mark; Hermione knew that as soon as they got back they'd probably go through the closets on a skeleton search.

"What do you lot need," Sirius asked, " The Chardonnay sauce is a bit fickle so if it's going to be a deep question about dining options in Azkaban we may need to reconveign in the kitchen."

"Right, sorry," Fred started, "Although love to get dementor recipes later" George interjected.

"Anyway, George, Hermione and I need to run to the Alley quick, last minute Christmas shopping. Need anything?"

"Just the three of you?" Sirius eyed suspiciously, "Where are the boys?"

"Upstairs," Ginny answered simply, "Harry isn't accepting visitors and Ron's been at it with your granddad's chess set again. And I've got to work on something for mum."

"Alright," Sirius shrugged, nonchalantly. "You two of are age and I've never had an issue with Hermione wandering off. Just be home before your mother stops by and questions my supervision. Remus can only throw his voice from so many rooms before she gets suspicious."

"Excellent," George said, as the twins rose, Fred placing a hand on Hermione shoulder and nudging her to the door, "Come along Granger, time to see Diagon Alley at Christmas time."

((*))

Hermione hadn't realized she had never seen Diagon Alley under the boughs of holly and mini lights.

Garlands hung from one side of the Alley to the other with little lights-fairies- Fred had told her, wove in between the large, red velvet bows. Shop windows with bathed in warm light; some-like Fortescue's Ice Cream and Madam Malkin's had enchanted snow falling behind the window pane, frost spreading like lace over the panes. Flourish and Blotts had made a Christmas Tree out of books and the Owl Emporium had fixed little Father Christmas hats on all the rather annoyed occupants of its shop.

It was like a winter wonderland. A flurry of flakes falling from above and music caroling from each shop. Hogwarts had been magical the few years she had stayed at the School for Christmas, but there was some special magic about seeing the alley like this. There had been a tremor, like a panic earlier in the year when they had come for school shopping. But now, it was as if all of that was forgotten under the spell of the holiday. Masked behind the wish of better days, cheer and good will.

They had made their usual stops as they had over the summer with one exception-she noticed both the boys walk briskly past the Quality Quidditch shop, Umbridge's' ban seemingly creating a barrier between them. Hermione had picked up a new book series for Sirius-thinking perhaps the escape of a story may offer a brief respite while tucked away at Headquarters, while Fred and George had made their selections at Gambols and Javes.

It had been almost two hours since they arrived and Hermione thought that, while the outing had been enjoyable, it must be time to go back. "Ought we head home?" She asked, quickening her step as she followed Fred and George further down the alley, "There isn't anything this far down, not really-"

"Ah but there is," George said with a smile, "Opportunity-opportunity is down here Granger, can't you feel it?"

Hermione turned to Fred with a raised eyebrow, "Has he lost it?"

Fred smirked, "Not quite. You see Granger, we may have been less than truthful than our original intentions on getting you to come with us today."

Hermione felt her spine straighten up, her body tense, "What do you mean?"

"We're here!" George exclaimed, coming to a sudden stop in front of them.

"We're where?" Hermione asked looking at the building. It was vacant, mismatched pages of The Daily Prophet lined the windows, some of the frames cracked, others missing all together. There was paint peeling from the window pains and some chips of a faded orange that had once covered the bricks. Whichever shop had previously occupied the building had taken their wooden sign with them, a vacant hook sticking up against the wall.

Hermione noticed it was a tall building, a tower of windows going up two floors. Dorm windows on the top of the building made her think perhaps it was a three story building, or that it had a reasonable attic space.

George approached the building, counting three bricks up from the Number 93 and moving over seven before taping it with his wand. The brick disappeared and he inserted his hand to pull out a small brass key before fidgeting with the lock.

"Couldn't we have just cast Alohomora? Hermione asked as George disappeared into the building.

"We could have yes," Fred said, "But realtors usually put spells on sites to hex people that try that. This is the safer route," he explained before extending his hand to the door, "After you?"

She gave a weak smile and entered the shop floor. It didn't do much to improve Hermione's impression of the previous tenants. Empty crates littered the floor, as well as daily prophets that had fallen from the windows. A thick layer of dust raising clouds at their feet as they made their way around.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked, looking around, "It feels like it's been empty for decades."

"Oh not decades Granger, just six years or so," George said hitting the till as a shrill came from its bell, "Used to be a Cursebreaker Center or something. Rakepick's Reliquary. The shop's close to Gringotts and the Goblins had set up a place for an employee to run a front on some curse operations or other-but I digress"

"Alright then," she started, "why are we standing in abandoned Cursebreaker shop?"

"Again Granger, opportunity," George smiled.

"Is he going to start making sense or are you going to help him out?"

"The reason we've brought you here, is we needed an outsider's opinion," Fred began, "We needed someone who had a good sense of presentation and someone who's not emotionally attached-"

'Personally I think you're going to be biased against regardless," George said, leaning against the counter, "But Fred thought otherwise."

"I still don't understand," Hermione said, looking at the two brothers, "What am I supposed to give my opinion on?"

"This place," Fred said with a smile, waving his hand to the windows, "Number 93 Diagon Alley, home of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Our Joke Shop."

Hermione looked at the room again was more unsure of herself than when they first came in. The ceiling was too high, it was dead space. The outside looked as though it was older than Ollivanders, not lively at all. While it was probably the cheapest of buildings on Diagon Alley, it was still a Diagon Alley property and probably had an astronomical rent.

And the boys wanted to start their joke shop here? In this ash heap?

"Now before you say anything," Fred started, cutting her off before her she could put her words together, "Just Imagine it. Fresh coat of paint on the outside; something bright-obnoxious, just like us."

"Alright," Hermione said, "But-"

"Here, just show her Fred," George interrupted, "she sees the vision she might catch the vision, look-Meditati!"

He waved his wand and a gold shimmer sprung out of his wand, up against the window. Only the window was different. The papers were gone, glass mended with a shine. Netting hung between the first two floors stuffed with brightly colored puff skins while the floor had barrels full of brightly wrapped boxes.

"What spell is this?" Hermione asked walking towards the window, her hand reaching out to touch the mist.

"The imagination spell," Fred said, stepping up next to her, "Helps show a visual of whatever someone imagines. It's been useful in imagining how we'd use space."

"Does it work just on layouts?" Hermione asked, looking at the rest of the room as George had spread the vision farther. The counter loaded up with different Skiving Snacks and a shining silver register. A Spot in the corner where pink little hearts floated above love potions.

"It can work with anything really, it's the base spell for our day dream charms actually," he explained. "You can use it for a layout, for a holiday-imagining a relationship even. You see our vision and if you look long enough, you can see your version of it too" he smiled with a suggestive wink.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush, "Good to know," she said looking away.

"With that last one though, you have to be careful, best use it when your by yourself-vacant stares and drooling are unfortunate side effects," Fred explained.

"Imagining Relationships are you?" Hermione inquired, "The Great Fred Weasley having to imagine a love story?"

"What I meant was-"

"You two," George said, his hand on his hip while gold sparkles fell behind him, "stop chatting and look at the shop will you?"

Fred scratched the back of his neck and followed George through the door to the spare room.

"And this would be our work room" he said, again waving his wand and muttering Meditati as a room with a table full of cauldrons, two workbenches and a planning board appeared in the distant view.

"A large floor for presentation, a place to develop new ideas," Hermione muttered, "it seems like everything you need," she said as she looked at it, "Why do you need my opinion?"

"Does it look like a shop you'd want to go into?" Fred asked, sitting against the window ledge. "George and I think it is, but we also want to open a store."

Hermione looked at Fred and then George, " I don't know if I'm the best person to ask, I can't tell you the last time I went to Zonkos-and I've only been inside Gambol and Javes a handful of times-"

"But when were in there just now, were you excited? Entertained? Did it make you want to look at the products?" Fred asked, "See you don't go in the stores a lot, so you know when something makes an impression," he explained, waving his wand as a wave of gold sparkles fell on the wall behind her, the one that separated the showroom and the storeroom. "Does our vision make an impression."

She looked at Fred and then again at the mirage made for her. She imagined what the shop would be like during the holidays. Garland lining the nets where little pygmy puffs hovered above the crowds that would undoubtedly appear. Green and red paper chains criss crossing over head while the ceiling was bewitched to having falling snow disappear before it hit the patron's heads.

And in her vision, people were happy, barrells of product where nearly empty. The occasional Christmas Cracker would pop every few minutes or so and music or turtle doves would spring from its rupture. Her imagination seemed to get the best of her as she thought she could see herself at the register,an older her, maybe few years into the future, wearing a Christmas apron and hat like she was Father Christmas, as Fred snuck up behind her with a sprig of mistletoe.

She blinked so quick George would have thought she had gotten dust in her eye. Her hand rushed quick to her lower lip as though she half expected some tell tale drool to have appeared.

"Hermione?" Fred asked again, "Do you think our vision makes an impression?"

Made an impression alright, she thought to herself. "I think it'll take a good amount of work-and a good amount of gold to get this place where it needs to be," Hermione said looking at the brothers, "But-" her face breaking into a smile, "I think this would be as good a place as any to start your joke shop."

Their faces lit up and Hermione focused for a moment too long on Fred's smile. "You really think so?" He asked, "You're not just saying that?"

"Like you said, the shop is just down the street from Gringotts. Everyone who shops on the alleyway usually has to stop at the bank-especially if their Hogwarts kids-and if the kids know the shop is here, it'll be there first stop here. Especially during the Holidays," Hermione said, her eyes wandering back to the mirage of the shop.

She was in the vision, again with a work apron putting items away when Fred appeared beside her, helping her lift something to the nets. She saw how he looked was looking at her, how he had a smile on his lips and how their eyes met as the object disappeared over head, his hand playing with a stay curl, the two of them encircled in the bright sunlight coming through the window.

"I think this would be a lovely shop," she finished, her voice higher than usual. " Have you found a flat near by?" she asked, hoping to change the subject and keep her eyes from the scene behind her.

"Oh that's the best part," George said, standing up and charging the stairs behind her, " Come see the flat."

((*))

"This, Meditati, would be the living room," George started, as a homey, warm and welcoming vision came to Fred's view, "while this is obviously the kitchen."

Hermione kept looking around, not feeling Fred's eyes on her as she did. He had seen the vision time and time again, helping tweak it with George and vise versa. But watching it on Hermione's face was like watching a first year when they first caught glimpse of the castle. He wasn't sure if it was the awe of the magic, or if she was really impressed by it all. Either way, he couldn't help but notice how the slightest bit of glaze seemed to curtain her eyes.

It had only been in the last month or so Fred had realized he had a growing infatuation with her. He wasn't sure if it started when word got to him she had stood up to Umbridge in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, or when she cornered him George and Lee about a meeting at the Hogshead. Or perhaps it was when she took his hand to help correct his form in Dueling, his skin dancing under her touch.

All he knew was something had changed. And it was reflected in the mirage before him. It was the same as it had been when he and George had come to look at the place, a few days ago after they had first visited their dad in St Mungos. The living room was a night scene where the fireplace crackled and an older Fred and Hermione sat next to each other on the couch, toasting one another, her head leaning on his shoulder as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Fred," a voice called him back, her voice. "Fred, you've got something on your chin," she reached up with a napkin and swiped away the smallest amount of drool.

"Imagining things are you?" she said with a smile, "imagining a lovely relationship with a sofa?"

He felt his cheeks turning a color, "something like that. Wish you could see it- it's quite lovely."

"Sure it is," Hermione said, her hand brushing close against his as they followed George through the apartment. "A Jack and Jill Bathroom-we can add in another one later and two bedrooms across the hall from each other," George said, sending sparks of gold into one of the rooms. Fred nearly bumped into Hermione as she looked into the room and he realized she rooted to the spot. He turned his gaze towards it and in another life, in an imagined time, Hermione's head rested against Fred's bare chest, her arm draped over his torso while his arm circled around her, his thumb stroking circles on her bare shoulder.

Don't drool, he thought to himself, snapping back and looking again to an empty room with a ratty curtain and wastebasket. Hesitantly, he put his hand on her shoulder, stroking as he had before. "Hermione," he whispered in her ear, taking a step in front of her with a napkin of his own "You've got a bit of drool here-"

Her eyes snapped alive as she registered his face in front of hers. Perhaps it was the vision he had just seen, or all of the imagination spells he had cast while creating their day dream line-but her face seemed softer. Her eyes gentler.

Her hand rested up on his own as though she was trying to wipe the drool herself and realized too late his hand was already there.

"Sorry about that," she said, dropping her hand and looking away, " I-this is very good magic," she said, looking back at the room, "I think it would be quite the life-the one that you and George have dreamed up."

"It would be," Fred said, his own imagination rushing back to him. One where this flat's future had Hermione as a fixture. One where she was in the store. One where she would meet up with him in the storeroom when George wasn't there. One where, someday, it was just him and her.

"So we have Granger's blessing, feel good about it Freddie?" George asked, interrupting the two of them in their thoughts.

"Feel really good about it," Fred said with a smile. "You'll come visit us when we open?"

"Of course," Hermione said,looking around the room, "Besides, you'll need someone around who shares the vision you have for this place," she smiled again, her eyes locking with his own.

And in that moment Fred thought again of what that future he had imagined, those soft, imagined touches Hermione and he had shared and thought that maybe-just maybe-that vision could become a certainty.

AN:

Google Translate told me Meditati is Latin for Imagine. I'm hoping to the high heavens it hasn't lied to me.

It'll be a while before we see Fluff in Falling Through Time, I wanted to have some for the Holidays. Let me know if you liked it, maybe we'll have some oneshots in the future?

Again, Merry Christmas and Happy New Years where ever you may be. Cheers!

KH