Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
She blamed herself of course, her own carelessness. Had she been more alert, she would never have fallen for the obvious trap, and never would have been caught. As an unfamiliar faced Death Eater jerked again on the chain he led her by, Hermione once more berated herself for allowing herself to fall in to their grips. It had been so obvious. Her eyes squeezed shut in silent, swift remorse, before they opened again in determination. She would not suffer for their satisfaction. She had not even been granted an audience with the fabled Dark Lord. Evidently, Hermione Granger was not that important to the evil man's scheme. Instead, she was sentenced by some indifferent, medium ranking Death Eater to simply rot in some random, dank prison cell under their 'Fortress'. Yet another jerk of the chain brought Hermione from her bitter thoughts. Looking up she caught the amusement in the man's eyes before he turned his head forward. She hadn't fallen behind, or slowed at all. He was pulling her off-balance out of pure malice, trying to get a rise out of her. A deep breath calmed Hermione. She would not play along with their mind games.
A door loomed out of the darkness down the long hall, lit by a torch on each side, held in iron brackets on the wall. The man leading her took out his wand and summoned his own torch, lighting it with the essence of the one already burning to the right. While he did this, Hermione studied the door. It was wooden, rotting, and yet still solid. Ancient hinges squealed in protest when the man pulled it open to reveal it's surprising thickness. Within, there lay a dark staircase. Typical, Hermione thought. It completed the sinister mood that the rest of this pathetic toy castle had created with its dark corners, locked doors, and mysterious wall stains of dark shades.
The stairs seemed to spiral down forever, down and down in the pit of the earth, forever colder and damper. When finally the bottom was reached, Hermione was dizzy, and small drops of water were dripping down from occasional cracks in the ceiling. Another door then opened to reveal her destination: the dungeons. Lined in stone on both floors and walls to keep the oppressive earth at bay, it was typically medieval, lit by more torches, and lined with wooden doors, each with it's own iron-barred window at the top and iron food flap at the bottom. Hermione would have scoffed had she not felt so vulnerable without her wand. Where it was now, she supposed she might never know. Surely it hadn't been destroyed. There was a certain sensation that the owner experienced in the destruction of one's wand. The man seemed to be watching the doors, waiting for something as they strolled deeper and deeper. Finally Hermione noticed what he watched for. Each door bore a set of markings, just below the barred window, a set of thin, inked in lines. Some doors had two lines, or three, rarely four. And it took longer yet for the young woman to figure out that the lines represented the number of people in each cell.
Eventually the man found a cell with only one inked marking and stopped there. He touched his wand to the shackles about his captive's wrist and they melted away to nothing, but he kept his wand riveted on her. A snap of his fingers and the door swung open by itself. Hermione sighed and went to step in, but as soon as she turned her back on the man he landed a solid kick to the small of her back. Hermione was sent sprawling on the cold floor as the door swung shut behind her with a muffled thud and clank. Spitting out a bit of dirt, Hermione pushed herself up on her hands and knees and sighed once more. Then she screamed and jumped around as a crackled, and semi-familiar voice called out her name.
"Hermione?" it asked. The girl fell back on her bottom and put her hands behind her. She knew the voice, but it was rusty and dry, as if severely unused. There was a definite note of hope, underlain by hopelessness as the same time. Hermione eyed the shadows cautiously and cocked her head to the side.
"Who's there?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit, looking towards the corner that the voice had come from. A gaunt face loomed in to the light, adorned by an expression of wonderment. Hermione gaped.
"It can't be…Fred?" her voice was barely a whisper, disbelieving. Fred Weasley smiled a small smile and he shifted a bit further forwards, nodding. "Oh my god…" Hermione crept forward herself and suddenly, with a cry, threw herself at him. He gladly received her in to his arms and they rocked and held on to each other for dear life for quite some time. It seemed forever before they let go. Hermione grabbed a hold of Fred's head and planted a kiss in his dirty, unkempt hair, then held his thin face close to hers.
"Oh Fred, we've been so worried! And you've been here the whole time…" she fretted and pulled him in for another quick hug. Fred just smiled at her. Then his face fell.
"How long…have I been missing?" he asked. Hermione sobered as well.
"You disappeared about six months ago." She told him. Shadows filled his eyes.
"And my…my family…are they…" he almost couldn't bring himself to ask about them. So long here, no news of his family, or the war, he was frantic. It was Hermione's turn to smile now as she ran a reassuring hand down the young man's face. No, he's a man now, Hermione reminded herself. Fred was twenty-two, only two years her senior.
"They are all alive and healthy." Hermione told him. Fred let out a deep breath. "Your mother…she's had it…hard, with you gone." She said slowly. He looked up at her with the question in his eyes. "And George…he's been considering suicide missions. We've got him on quite a short leash. He's taking your absence even harder than your mother." Fred hung his head for a moment before nodding.
"I will see them again." He stated, determination lacing his voice. The hope he had felt when he had first seen her was growing, swelling like a bubble. Then he saw the self-satisfied smirk on Hermione's face and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You will see them again." She stated in a matter-of-fact manner. Then she reached down the front of her robed and brought out a thin golden chain that hung about her neck. Fred blinked in surprise.
"That's mine!" he exclaimed. Hermione smiled.
"Yes it is. After you disappeared we began developing a sophisticated tracking system that could be activated without a wand. They're all untraceable and…they're all artifacts of yours. We called it Fred's Finder." She watched his expression take on a slightly blown-away expression. He fingered the necklace that Hermione wore.
"You all carry my things…and you named it for me?" he repeated. Hermione nodded and unclasped the necklace. She wrapped the chain about hers and Fred's hands, linking them together.
"Solvo mihi!" she whispered. The chain grew warm and glowed white. Fred could swear that he saw images flit quickly through the minimal surface of the object before it glowed softly white, and then went back to normal. No one would ever guess that it now had an activated homing charm on it, connected to every other member of the Order. Hermione looked up at Fred's wondering face.
"They know where I am now, but they may take some time getting here. After all, they do have to make a plan to get us out." She unwrapped the chain from their intertwined hands while she spoke and clasped it about her neck where it had been before. Fred decided that it looked good on her anyway. He shifted a little so that he was sitting up, putting half his face back in the shadow of the corner. Hermione tilted her head to the side.
"Why don't you come on over here in the light?" she asked, gesturing towards herself. Fred looked down at the stones. Hermione stilled as she got a bad feeling. "Fred, what's wrong?" she asked. He looked back at her.
"Its…it's my legs." He whispered. She was surprised to see water gathering in the corners of his eyes.
"What's wrong with your legs?" the bad feeling was swelling in her chest. Fred looked down resignedly. Suddenly he splayed his arms out as far as he could reach across the floor and dragged himself bodily backwards, towards his friend. Hermione's hands flew to cover her mouth as a gasp escaped her. Fred stopped a foot to her right, his terrible legs right in front of her. Hermione found herself unable to move except to whisper,
"Oh Fred…" The right ankle was snapped clean in the wrong direction and swollen beyond all recognition, black from bruising. The left knee had swollen and seized so much so that the entire limb had locked and was immovable. Great rends in the flesh decorated both legs, with dried blood caked everywhere. A few inches below the hip, the wounds stopped, allowing the man to at least move himself along the floor. No wonder he had been hiding in the shadows, Hermione thought to herself. Eventually she tore her eyes away from the awful sight and looked questioningly at Fred. He looked reflectively down at himself, silent for so long she almost thought he wasn't going to answer. Finally he spoke, not looking up.
"They wanted information. I wouldn't give it to them." He told her quietly, but would say no more on the subject, and she did not wish to press him about it. So she simply moved closer, silently showing him that she wasn't repulsed, and laid a hand on his arm comfortingly.
"I'm proud of you Fred." She told him in as strong a voice as she possessed. He looked up in mild surprise. He blinked, then a small flush cross his cheeks.
"W-what for?" he asked, slightly flustered, though Hermione could not fathom what about. She smiled.
"For never giving in, and never giving up." She simply said. He looked even more surprised, and the flush on his cheeks deepened slightly. Hermione noted in passing that Fred did not share the trait of his youngest brother's all-over-the-face flush. Fred's was simply a reddening of the cheeks and nose, so he looked more embarrassed than as if he was choking. Hermione found it slightly endearing even. So she giggled to relieve him some tension and changed the subject.
"How often do they feed us down here?" she asked, prepared for the worst answer. Fred looked grateful for the distraction. He lost his flustered expression, but the flush only dimmed. Obviously, he was still thinking of her praise.
"Twice a day. Could be much worse stuff. Some of it looks almost edible even." He grinned cheekily at her. Hermione glowed at his continuous sense of humor. Even in the darkest of situations, Fred continued to be a light of stubborn happiness.
"Well, that is certainly much more than I thought." She admitted. He nodded.
"They treat us almost like special guest prisoners…if you can think of such a term. I'd like to slip them all some Puking Pastilles though, the way they talk to us." He momentarily mock glared at the door as if all the Death Eaters in the fortress were just outside their surprisingly spacious cell.
"Do they ever let us out of here? I mean do you have to…" Hermione couldn't bring herself to say it. Fred seemed to understand though. He pointed to the corner opposite where he had been sitting and Hermione suddenly noticed a gray, squat bucket.
"They empty that every evening. Rinse it out even. Mighty decent of them." He winked as if the captors were doing them the hugest favor ever. Hermione couldn't stop herself from grinning. It seemed as if this wasn't going to be the worst captivity ever.
The days were impossible to keep track of, being so far down below the sun and the stars. The earth seemed to press against the walls, closing in more and more every day as if it were angry that the humans had dug down so close to her core so she sought to evict them by squeezing them out. Day and night ran together, and eventually they had no meaning. Day was a foreign time and sunlight was a thing of the imagination. The stars were a myth. Their world consisted only of stone walls, water droplets, and the single doors through which food for two was pushed in twice a day. The chilly air was constant, and eventually it went unnoticed. The light never changed either, it's only source the ever-burning torch across the hall from the small barred window atop the wooden cell door.
It was many sleeps, for that was they measured time here, before the Death Eaters took Hermione away for the first time since she had arrived. Fred fought them valiantly, but he was helpless from his position on the floor. Unable to get up, he was unable to help. Thus, Hermione was dragged forcefully away, calling back to him for as long as she could hear his voice reply. When she could no longer hear his voice, Hermione looked about and noticed that they were not taking her up the stairs she had come down from so long ago. They remained level with the prison, but they had entered an extensive branch of the underground catacombs. Hermione was bodily tossed in to one room and miraculously managed to remain on her feet. The door was shut and she was alone with a single hooded person.
Hermione glared at the figure, taking a muggle fighting stance, though she knew it would do her no good against their wand. How useless and small she felt! But the figure only chuckled and lifted a hand to his hood. Tossing it back he grinned maliciously as he gave Hermione time to take in just who it was. The young woman's eyes narrowed and a savage growl escaped her.
"I always knew that you would never come to any good, Malfoy." She hissed at the former Slytherin before her. Suddenly, he whirled and pointed his wand at the door. It glowed green in what Hermione recognized as a sound barrier. He turned back to her and his face was completely different. It looked hurried and…friendly. He flew across the room and took her by the shoulders so fast she had no time to step back in fear. Malfoy looked directly in her eyes and spoke in a low voice, despite the charm he had just cast.
"Hermione, you've got to listen and listen close. I'm with the Order. They send word to you. They got your signal, and they're developing a plan. They advise that you don't draw any attention to yourself, they are coming for you." He paused, seemingly unaware that she stared at him in unbelieving shock. "They saw the Weasley's face as well when you activated it, how'd you do that?" he asked. Hermione could still do nothing but stare at him in shock. Finally he realized what a shock this must be for her. It made him smile.
"I've been your spy for two years now." He told her gently. "But Molly and I decided that only the elders of the Order should know. What you don't know, you can't reveal." He finally let go of her and stepped back, letting her digest this information. She stood silent for many minutes, processing it all. A thought struck her, and she at last found her voice.
"If all that is true…then I um…I'm sorry about what I said before." She apologized, still a bit absently shocked. He waved a hand as if dismissing her apology.
"You didn't know." He forgave her. Then he grasped her shoulders again, gently. He drew close and spoke very low.
"Hermione, for Merlin's sake, do not draw any attention to yourself or the Weasley man. For the moment, Voldemort is all but ignorant of your presence here. Keep it that way. If he was to take a sudden interest in you…I…" he didn't continue, but Hermione caught the urgency in his voice and the meaning of his words immediately. She could only nod, showing she understood. He nodded too, and stepped back from her once more.
"Alright. When I call the guards back in, you must act weak, ok? I crucio'ed you for information, but you gave none. Act weak. Lean on them. Speak faintly. Look as if in severe pain. Your life and Weasley's depends on how well you act now." He watched to see if she understood, and she nodded, noting that he made no mention of the danger he himself was in, doing this for her. She lowered herself to the floor and assumed a position of someone trying to get up after being knocked down. Malfoy looked slightly impressed before he pulled his hood up, lifted the charm on the door, and called for the guards. They entered the room and Malfoy added a sneer to his voice as he spoke detachedly.
"Take her away. She was useless." He ordered them. They moved forward and each took one of Hermione's arms. She allowed them to forcefully hoist her on to her feet, and made herself almost collapse back down.
"Please…rest…" she whispered, screwing up her face and lolling her head to the side. One of the guards just laughed maliciously as they pulled her back up. She leaned heavily to one side and made her legs tremble all the way back through the halls, even pretending to fully collapse once more about halfway back. A few times she begged to just be left to die in a weak voice. Finally they threw her back in the cell she shared with Fred, who cried out and dragged himself to her as fast he could, and she lay completely still until the door closed and their footsteps faded down the hall.
Fred cried out in surprise when suddenly Hermione shot in to a sitting position, miraculously recovered, but she threw a hand over his mouth and whispered everything she had learned in to his ear. When she was done, she was about to pull away when suddenly Fred's arms wrapped about her and pulled her to him in a desperate embrace. After a moment she returned the gesture.
"I was so scared…" he whispered in to her hair. Hermione lifted one hand and ran in through his shaggy hair, then drew back when something wet brushed her cheek. Fred was crying. Hermione blinked, then brushed her thumbs under his eyes.
"Fred?" she asked. He sniffed and gestured towards his destroyed legs.
"I thought…I was afraid that they might…and then when you weren't moving…Hermione I was so scared!" he hung his head and another tear fell from his eyes, splashing gently on to the ground. Hermione blushed as Fred had before.
"Fred, I'm fine! It's ok. Oh Fred!" she pulled his head in to her chest and let him cry out his relief there, whispering comfortingly in to his ear all the time. When he sat up, he was blushing the same as her, ashamed to have cried, ashamed to have seemed so weak, especially in front of her. But she simply wiped away the last of his tears and put a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look her reluctantly in the eyes.
"I'm all right now, ok?" she reassured him one final time. He nodded and went to lean away from her, but she leaned back against the wall, making him lean back with her. His head ended up in her lap, and she stroked his hair as she closed her eyes and quietly hummed an ages old lullaby. Fred felt his eyes close and his body slowly relax. The constant pain coursing through his legs dulled as an inexplicable sense of home washed over him. Together, Fred and Hermione drifted in to a somewhat peaceful sleep.
Forever passed again. Many sleeps came and went, but no one came for either of them again. They were both just another notch in a door to feed. It was a comfort to both of them. Time now had no meaning. The only way to know that time even passed rather than standing perfectly still was the coming of the meals. But time was still moving, and they knew that they would have to move with it. Hermione had sacrificed her thick cloak to make bandage strips to wrap Fred's legs in, after first saving up her water for four meals to wash out all of his infected cuts. He hissed in pain at each touch, but begged her to go on, knowing it was the closest thing to a healing touch he would receive here. Afterwards he had regaled Hermione with a long, very funny story about a time when he and George had changed the password on the Gryffindor dorm room. Hermione had to clutch her side, fearing she would explode from laughter. Fred seemed to grin extra big whenever he made her laugh, her merriment stirring him to tell new jokes, wishing that she would never stop smiling again. When his story was done, Hermione recited some funny poems she had read as a girl. For a while, both had sat in comfortable silence, each with their own thoughts. Fred fell to studying Hermione from his position with his head in her lap once more. She sat with her back and head up against the wall, one hand in her lap, the other entangled in Fred's dirty hair. He absently wondered how bad he smelled, and then almost laughed at the ridiculous randomness of his thought. He returned to observing Hermione. Her eyes were half lidded as they stared away at nothing, her lips ever so slightly parted in deep thought. Her hair, now as dirty and sweaty as his was, was loose and falling all around her, so long that if there had been a wind, it would have fallen across Fred's own face. Suddenly Hermione turned her head down to return his gaze, not seeming to mind that he had been staring at her. He blushed and turned his head to the side. Then he shot up out of her lap as a loud explosion sounded down the hall. Hermione stood and rushed to the door, trying to stare through the bars on the window. There was yelling, and the sound of running. She turned excitedly to Fred.
"I think they've come! The Order has come!" she exclaimed in a low voice. His face lit up and he wished he could stand to see out the door with her. Fred had a sudden premonition.
"Hermione! Get away from the door!" he hollered. She stepped back, instinctively reacting to his command. A moment later the door exploded…as did the one across the hall from them. And so did every door down the entire hallway, all at the same time. Every door burst in to nothingness, and moments later every prisoner streamed in the hallway, seeking the stairs and freedom. Hermione turned to Fred, but he waved her on.
"Go, Hermione. Leave me. I'm sure someone will find me." He told her, but it was obvious on his face that he expected to die here. Hermione would have none of it. She faced him and planted her feet as such a fire as Fred had never seen took flame in her determined eyes.
"I'll not leave you here!" she exclaimed. She knelt down and took a hold of him around the back and under the knees. She strained her legs to lift upwards; he didn't move. She was too weak, too small, and he was too heavy.
"Hermione, please! Just go!" he pleaded. She strained harder. "Hermione!" he cried out again. The vein on her neck was standing out and her eyes were closed. Suddenly they flew open and he was shocked in to silence. Her eyes were tinged in red! Hermione threw one last burst of effort in to herself. A yell tore out of her throat, and suddenly Fred was rising slowly in to the air. He rose up and up until she stood with him bridal style in her arms before her.
"I'll not leave you here!" she growled. And then she walked. Step by step she left the cell and started down the hall. It was already deserted, but the sounds of fighting rang all throughout the dungeons as if the people were right beside them. Small piles of rubble lay all about the place and small chunks of doors lay burning on the ground as well. Fred's deadweight in her arms, each step a monumental effort, Hermione found the stairs. Fred feared that she would give up here, but the red of her eyes deepened, and the vein on her neck throbbed again. Hermione took a step up. Another step. And another. Fred found himself chanting.
"You can do it Hermione, you can do it! Come on!" he encouraged her. Hope filled his being, from his catatonic legs to his mangy red hair. Each step was slow, but it was closer to freedom. Up and up, around and around they went, never slowing, never faltering. Fred saw the top of the never-ending staircase come in to sight and renewed his encouragements in her ears. Finally, Hermione took the last step and stopped, her chest heaving. But she was not resting, Fred saw, simply trying to remember which way to go. Eventually she chose the passage to the left. They passed other captives trying to find their way out of the Fortress. They passed rooms where unfamiliar figures in the robes of the Order stood locking in combat with Death Eaters. They passed rooms in total ruin with bodies lying, unmoving, in awkward positions. Magical fires burned everywhere in many different colors and smoke from jinxes drifted about in some places. The hallways twisted and turned to no end until Fred spotted it to their left.
"Hermione, there! The front doors! Freedom!" he was so excited he could have laughed. Hermione set her red sights on the large wooden double doors and marched determinately towards them. When she reached them, without missing a beat, she opened them. With a roar she rocked back on one foot and with the other crashed in to the doors with such force and will that they not only flew open but off their hinges. And they stood, bathed in their first sunlight, framed in the doorway, and saw what happened outside. The Death Eaters stood with their back to the Hermione and Fred, with members of the Order facing them. Spells were thrown back and forth, and not a few lay still in the space between the two groups, who had both stopped and looked and them. Still roaring Hermione stomped the foot down that she had kicked the door with. The air around the Death Eater army rippled and every single one of them was suddenly flung away, in to the forest that surrounded the Fortress. There was, all of a sudden, no one left but members of the Order, staring at Hermione Granger holding the missing Fred Weasley, standing in the doorway. As she realized that they were free, they were safe, the red leaked out of Hermione's eyes, and her strength seemed to wan. She dropped to her knees, still clinging to Fred for dear life. Hermione looked deep in to Fred's eyes as if the whole world were contained therein.
"Did we do it Fred? Are we free?" she asked meekly. Fred smiled as he nodded. Footsteps were running toward them, and voices were yelling, crying out their names.
"Yes Hermione, you did it. You did it." He told her. She smiled for him. Then hands were reaching for them, taking him up and Hermione as well. She cried out in alarm as she was born on to a magical stretcher.
"Fred! No! Fred, where are you?" She cried out, suddenly terrified that he would leave her. But then she heard him.
"I'm here Hermione." She heard him say. Then her stretcher came alongside his as they looked at each other. She stretched a hand out across the space between them as far as she could reach.
"Fred…" she whispered, feeling weaker by the moment. He reached out his own hand. Their stretchers swayed closer together and they grabbed a hold of each other, then Hermione fell down in to a world on blackness.
Fred woke to find his stretcher being changed hands. He knew none of the people carrying him, but he knew the house he was being born in to. Grimauld Place was the most beautiful place he had ever seen in his entire life, he decided, as he was rushed past a whiz of walls, up the stairs, and in to a bedroom, followed closely by Hermione. They were both born on to beds opposite sides of the room, and then the stretchers beneath them vanished. The men carrying them ran back out of the room calling for someone. Fred wasn't listening. He turned his head on the pillow, and saw Hermione was still unconscious. He owed the small woman his life, he knew. And as soon as he could walk he would find some way to repay her for what she had done for him, though he could not fathom anything that would match what she had just accomplished. Suddenly there were heavy footsteps outside his door, which burst open a moment later and someone stood in the doorway, staring down at him as if almost afraid to believe he was really there. Fred stared up at his twin, his eyes suddenly wet with relief.
"George…" he whispered. That was all it took.
"FRED!" his twin cried out as he suddenly flew to the bed and threw himself down beside Fred's bed. George clasped his brother about the shoulders, buried his face in Fred's chest, and wept like a newborn baby.
"Fred? My Fred? My baby!" A voice came from down the hall. Having heard George's cry, Molly came running. She too paused at the door and Fred looked up at her.
"Mom!" He cried out to her. She cried out wordlessly and also flew to his side. Suddenly the house was alive with cries of his name and pounding footsteps on the stairs, in the halls, and from the lower level as his large family came from every corner to reunite with their lost member. Fred found himself awash with tears, hugs, crying voices and loving faces. Even Percy was there, standing slightly apart, crying silently. He nodded at Fred when he looked that way. Fred nodded back, understanding why Percy stood apart. George refused to move more than a foot away from his twin, and his eyes were kept rapt on his brothers face until they all heard Percy gasp, when he tore his eyes away as they all turned to look at what Percy saw. Then all but Fred gasped as well. On the other side of the room, alone in her bed, Hermione lay forgotten, unconscious. Molly put a hand to her mouth, much the same, Fred realized, as Hermione had done when she had first seen his ruined legs.
"Is that…Hermione?" Ron whispered. Fred nodded yes. Ron stumbled across the room and fell to his knees beside the girl he had loved since his third year of Hogwarts.
"Hermione? Hermione?" he called her name. "Some one go get Harry!" he demanded desperately, not turning around. No one seemed inclined to leave Fred's side until Percy, not looking at any of them, offered to go for the wonder boy. While Percy was gone Molly inquired why Fred's legs were all wrapped up. When he told them about what state they were in and what happened, Arthur hollered loudly for a healer. Fred only stared across the room at Hermione. If not for her, he wouldn't be here, getting all this attention from everyone. He wouldn't be alive.
Percy arrived with Harry, who cried out like all they had and rushed to Hermione's bed, putting a hand to her cheek. Fred felt his face heat up as a surge of jealous protectiveness flowed through him. Harry knew nothing, nothing! He had no right to touch Hermione! Then he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Hermione isn't yours to protect, he reminded himself, then wondered where the thought had come from. Of course, he knew exactly where that thought had come from, but he tried valiantly to ignore that knowledge, distracting himself by responding to the healer that had just managed to threaten his way through the wall of protective Weasley's to Fred's side. Fred let him cut through the wraps Hermione had made and watched the horrified expressions grow on his families faces. The healer seemed concerned, but not devastated. That comforted Fred; he had known it would be bad, but he had feared for the worst. Judging from the calm way the healer went about his inspection, this would not be permanent damage. The knowledge was a huge relief, but it was when the healer turned to check on Hermione that Fred found the calm to drift off in to a healing sleep.
When next Fred woke, he had fresh, professional bandages on his legs, and there was absolutely no pain. He woke under the covers, but immediately found that too hot, being used to the cold of the dungeons. The window was open and he welcomed the autumn breeze. His second thought turned his head to the side. Hermione and he were alone in the dark room. She had also been tucked in to the blankets, but otherwise hadn't moved. Fred found himself wanting desperately to be near her, to touch her. They had rare been apart in their stone cell, taking comfort from proximity to each other, contact to other humans. Knowing his legs would not hold him; Fred swung them out of the bed and lowered himself to the floor until he was sitting against the bed. Then he swished himself along the polished hardwood until he was next to her. The next task was more difficult, but after a long time of trial and error, Fred finally sat next to Hermione, gazing down at her serene face. It was then that he noticed: he had been bathed. Her face was free of dirt and her hair was clean and gleaming in the pale moonlight. Running a hand through his own hair he found that not only had he too been bathed, but also his hair had been cut short like he always wore. He ran the same hand through Hermione's hair, feeling it's softness, then paused on her cheek.
"Hermione, Hermione, please hear me." He begged in a whisper. Fred momentarily gave in to his thoughts and allowed himself to observe how beautiful she truly was here, with her face so serene. And clean, he added to his own thoughts with a small chuckle. Suddenly her eyes opened and she looked directly at him. He blinked, and then froze, afraid she would be frightened to find him there. But she smiled gently.
"Fred." She whispered simply, as if in his name she voiced a hundred different thoughts. "I thought I heard you." She admitted. Fred smiled too now.
"Hermione, we made it. We're home. This is Grimauld Place." He told her. Fred would have given all the money he had to photograph the happiness in her face when he said that. Her eyes went wide, her lips parted in a wide smile, and her eyebrows rose to her hairline.
"Really? We made it? We made it! We…oh!" Hermione closed her eyes, her smile growing wider, and relief mixed in with the initial happiness. Fred simply drank in her face. Then he gasped as her hand sought his. Her eyes opened and she gazed up at him with shining brown eyes. Beautiful, doe brown eyes.
"We made it together Fred." She told him. He shook his head and squeezed her hand gently in his own.
"No Hermione, you did it. It was all you. If not for you, I would have died all alone down in that stone hell. I owe you my life." He covered her hand with both of his while he spoke, trying to put every once of gratitude he felt in to his words. Her cheeks darkened in a blush.
"Well all I ask of you right now is a favor." She told him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Her blush seemed to deepen. "Would you sleep over here? I don't think I could stand being alone after…" she trailed off, but Fred understood exactly what she meant. He smiled down at her and nodded. She looked grateful as she shifted over and gave him room. She too suddenly noticed how hot the blankets were and folded them down to the end of the bed. Fred lay down on his back, keeping a respectful distance, but Hermione scooted over and lay flush up against him, her head on his shoulder. After a shocked moment, Fred eagerly wrapped his arms about her. He knew that to her, it was platonic, nothing but comfort, but he could enjoy this for just one night. Just one night. For the first time in almost nine months, Fred and Hermione both fell in to a completely, and truly, peaceful sleep.
"Fred!" Fred's eyes flew open as he was awakened by the shout. Hermione stirred on his shoulder and he lolled his head around to find Ron, very much red in the face, staring down at them from so far above. Had Fred had function of his legs, he would stand taller than his baby brother, but as it was, he was bed ridden. However, he was saved from his brother's wrath the next moment.
"Ron, hello. Oh! Sunlight!" Hermione sat right up in bed, crawled over Fred in to the middle of the room and stared at her outstretched hands, watching the sun dance across her palms. Fred watched, enjoying her smile. Rom simply scoffed.
"Yeah, sunlight, great. Hey! You want to come down for breakfast?" the youngest Weasley male sought to draw Hermione's attention to himself. But she turned and looked silently at Fred. He felt his heart drop. Of course she couldn't stay here with him forever. She could walk. So he smiled.
"You go ahead Hermione. Don't let a cripple like me hold you back. Please, go have fun" he added the last seeing her hesitation and silently feeling happy for it. She did turn and leave with Ron, and Fred leaned back in her bed, putting one arm behind his head as he was left to his thoughts. He knew how close Hermione had been to Ron and Harry before her bout in captivity with him, and he didn't expect anything to change. Perhaps she might talk to him more often when she was at Headquarters, where he had taken up residence. But he fully expected that Hermione would go back to filling her days with Ron and Harry, her best friends since school. But he couldn't help but resent that he would never be more than 'Ron's older brother' to her. He could never accomplish even so much as 'my friend Fred'. He was just too removed from her vision of life. He wasn't the type of person she wanted around. But then, Ron didn't seem to be either, and she seemed fairly attached to him.
Fred was broken out of his thoughts by the door creaking open again. He looked around and Hermione walked back in. Fred blinked, and then Charlie and Bill stepped in after the young woman, carrying grins that could split both their faces.
"Good morning, little brother." Charlie greeted him as they stepped closer.
"We are your escort, young sire." Bill mock bowed to him. "Hermione thought that you should be able to come join humanity as well. We're here to carry you downstairs!" The longhaired brother patted him on the shoulder. Fred smiled gratefully at Hermione but she just laughed and stepped out of the way. Bill first wrapped a blanket around Fred's numb legs, then he and Charlie created a chair out of their hands and bore Fred out of the room together, Hermione following close behind. Fred thought they were headed to the kitchen, but the two eldest brothers swerved instead for the large dining room. Hermione opened the door and they bore Fred in, where the entire Order waited to greet him home.
Fred gaped at all the smiling faces, and the large banner that read "Welcome Home Fred!" in large yellow and green letters (George stood mischievously under the sign, just having changed the colors). Ron and Harry stood with Remus, Sirius, and Moody in the front along with his parents and Ginny. Snape stood near the back with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Luna Lovegood. So many more people that Fred couldn't count them all beamed out at him. Even Draco Malfoy was there, looking uncomfortable, with Harry and Ron glaring at him suspiciously. Hermione put their protests to rest, though, when she immediately went to shake hands with the blonde. Fred was ceremoniously propped in a chair at the head of the long table. He was speechless until his mother laughed and hugged him briefly.
"Welcome home dear. The doctor should be here soon to tell us how quickly your legs will be recovering. Well go on, say something!" She twittered away at him, fixing his collar until he batted her away, causing the whole room to laugh. Things were already returning to normal. Fred took a moment to compose himself.
"Well…um…thanks I guess. But I mean…it's really not me who should get all this, it's Hermione." He insisted. Hermione blushed and waved her hand as if to dismiss his comment. "No really! I mean, you haven't heard how she rescued me!" Fred sat up in his chair and proceeded to, over Hermione's objections, describe in perfect detail how she managed to lift him up those never-ending stairs, through the house, and out the doors, then somehow toss three score of Death Eaters in to the forest, all without even a wand. When he was finished, the whole room clapped and hollered for Hermione, and someone changed the sign to add congratulations to her. In the midst of their cheering, a red-faced Hermione stamped a tiny foot ineffectually. She was halfway across the room from Fred after all; so stomping her foot didn't do much this time.
"Oh, Fred! Why did you tell them all?" she complained, embarrassed at the attention, but smiling nonetheless. She was patted on the back and some shook her hand. Molly hugged her and thanked profusely. Finally people quieted down and Fred leaned on the table towards Hermione to emphasize his words.
"Hermione, I owe you everything. I would gladly give you my life!" he told her. There were many grins, but all were silenced by Hermione's next words.
"What about your love?" she asked quietly. Not a single sound came from anyone in the room. Fred was flabbergasted. He had to be dreaming! This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be-
A polite knock came at the door and a throat was cleared with perfect bad timing.
"Ahem, doctor's report on one Mr. Fred Weasley. Infections having been healed during first examination and Skelo-Repair Potion having been administered at same time, patient should, assuming treatment was effective, have been able to walk as of this morning. Have a good day." the door shut and the healer was gone. The room was still silent. Fred briefly realized that his legs were not numb, simply back to normal, pain-free. He looked up at Hermione, still waiting on his answer. Boy will I ever give her an answer, Fred thought to himself as his face took on a determined set. He waved off his brothers, set his hands on the table, and rose from his chair on to his own two legs. Gasps came from some, but most, including Hermione, just watched in anxious silence. As ever so slowly as when Hermione carried him, Fred took a single step forward, then he let go of the table and took another step. Another step. He faltered and more gasps came, but none stepped forward to help him. Fred needed to do this alone. Another step. Another. And another. One more step, and Fred stood right in front of Hermione. Without wasting a single breath Fred took that last painful step forward and, taking her face in his hands, collided his lips with hers in a deep kiss. Hermione went rigid in shock that lasted only seconds before she threw her arms around the older man and pulled his closer to her. The room erupted in to cheers, whistles, and catcalls. Fred didn't hear any of them. All his senses stopped, his entire being riveted on the perfection of the moment. He forced himself to finally pull away and look her in the eye. He brushed two fingers down her jaw line softly. She smiled up at his height.
"You really want me?" he asked, still not quite believing any of this was happening. She nodded and smiled even wider.
"I only want your life if it's a lifetime spent beside me." She whispered to him so no one else could hear. Fred's heart raced within his chest and suddenly he came back to earth and heard the commotion. He grinned shyly, surprising every person in the room but one. Fred was not a shy person. George was laughing like a loon.
"Well finally!" He yelled loudly so everyone heard him, and then laughed harder when Hermione glanced at him in confusion. He straightened a bit and smirked. "Well do you know how long he's been waiting for this?" the other twin asked.
"What do you mean? How long?" Hermione asked in her confusion. Fred looked stricken and made a threatening motion at his twin.
"George, shut up! You shut your gob right now!" He cried desperately but it was too late, Hermione was curious. Fred tried to step away from her, but he was still too weak to move very fast, so he was still only three feet from her when George replied.
"Well, Merlin, he's liked you since he was in his third year at Hogwarts!" he called out. Again no one was speaking as the whole room stared at Fred Weasley in shock. Fred Weasley, who had fallen for Hermione the day he met her, and kept silent for nine years. Hermione stepped closer again to Fred, who stared at his feet, willing them to find the strength to bolt far, far away. Hermione put a hand on his cheek and made him look her in the eye. Fred was reminded of when she had done that in their dungeon cell. How she hadn't known then was beyond him.
"Fred? Why did you never tell me?" she asked him quietly. He looked away from her again, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his black t-shirt. The whole room turned an ear closer, especially one person standing very close to the couple.
"Well…" Fred began nervously. "You didn't seem to like me very much when we first met, me not being the type to follow rules and all. Then in my fifth year Ron went and fell for you. And he was your best friend; I couldn't make a move on that! I…he never really let you go and then you two almost dated, and I know you thought the world of him. I thought you'd never see beyond 'Ron's older brother'. I didn't think you'd…ever see me at all I guess…" he trailed off, waiting for her to laugh and admit that she never really saw him until they were trapped together.
"Fred, look at me." She asked. He fidgeted. "Fred?" He looked up embarrassedly. She looked him directly in the eye. "You were wrong. I noticed you three years ago. I thought I was just your little brother's friend though, so I never moved." She smiled at his shock. Then she seemed to notice that they were doing all this in front of an audience. Still smiling she took his hand and led him slowly across the room.
"I think we'll go find some privacy, thank you very much." She told them, and the whole room chuckled. Fred made it to the stairs alone, but needed her help getting up them and in to the room that they had both been put in to. However, when they got there Fred suddenly turned them around and headed down the hall to his own personal room. He sat down on the side on his bed, running a hand over the familiar red and white coverlet, glad to be back home at last. Hermione sat down beside him, paused for a moment, then grabbed his face and kissed him feverishly out of nowhere. To his credit, Fred quickly responded, kissing her back with all the passion that he'd pent up inside for years. He found himself laying her down and lying beside her, running his hands threw her soft, lush hair. He felt her hands travel from his face over his shoulders and down his side. Hermione ran her tongue along his lips and opened his mouth to run his own tongue along hers, savoring the sweet taste of her. They battled for dominance for some time before Hermione suddenly lifted the hem of his t-shirt. Fred broke away to allow her to slip the garment over his head, but when he went to kiss her again, she rolled him over and sat back to look at him. He fidgeted nervously, fearing the results of her inspection.
"I-I know I'm not the most attractive guy in the world but-" He was cut off as Hermione kissed him, throwing one leg over each side of his waist to straddle it.
"Your just as gorgeous as I thought you would be." She declared in between feverish kisses. Fred pulled himself from her lips and laid a trail of kisses from below her ear, down her neck, and across her shoulder, stopping to bite down lightly on the top of her shoulder, and then lick the mark he left. She made a small, satisfied sound in her throat, so he bit down a bit harder where the shoulder meets the neck. Hermione let out a soft moan of pleasure and sought his lips again. She ran her hands across his chest, rubbing him in the most amazing way, then rolling his nipples in between her thumb and index fingers. Fred moaned gently in to her mouth. So soon she had discovered one of his weak spots. And she exploited it too. Her mouth left his, but his disappointment was short-lived. He gasped as her hot tongue laved his right nipple, circling it a few times before flicking the now-hard tip. And then that same tongue was tracing a pattern lower and lower. Fred pulled Hermione back up, then groped for the hem of her shirt and pulled it off anxiously to discover that she wore no bra. Everything below his belt jumped with suddenly heightened excitement. He rolled her back over and claimed her lips with his as he ran his right hand in between her two ample breasts before massaging one, running his thumb over her nipple. Then he dipped his hand lower, pushing one finger under her pant line and drawing it tantalizingly across the skin just below her waist. When he withdrew his finger, she kissed him harder, sending her message of need clearly. So Fred reached for the button of her jeans, then slid one hand within their depths. Hermione cried out as he slipped a finger inside her soft folds. She moved with him as he moved that finger in and out rhythmically. When he added another finger her breath came faster and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations he was creating in her. Fred joined a third finger in and sped up his rhythm. Hermione let out a moan and he watched the raw pleasure on her face. Then she whimpered as he suddenly withdrew his hand from her. Grasping her jeans, he pulled them and her panties off in one swift motion. Then her hands were fumbling with his pants, popping open the button and ripping them apart so fast the zipper almost broke. He lifted his hips to allow her to take his pants and throw them away, soon followed by his silken boxers. But before she could do anything, Fred leaned down and captured her left nipple is his mouth. She gasped and buried her hands in his hair when he began to nibble gently. He suckled at the whole nipple, and then flicked his tongue over the tip as she had, causing to arch her back. But when Fred bit down on her right nipple and laved it with his tongue she made a mewling noise, urging him on. Shifting a bit so they lay head to feet, he began making a path with licks, kisses, and small bites until her velvet core lay before him. Pausing, he teased her by massaging her thighs right near where she most wanted him touching her. Her breath quickening in anticipation, Hermione whimpered again.
"Please…Fred…" she breathed. Fred felt himself harden even more than he already was. He finally complied with her wishes, licking a light path along the closed folds because delving his tongue deep in to her. She cried out, this time the sound unhindered, as Fred found her most sensitive spot, and flickered his tongue over it, repeatedly and quickly. Hermione grabbed a hold of his hips and rolled him over on his back, but rolled with him, her core hovering above his face. Suddenly Fred stopped and moaned as he felt Hermione's hot tongue run a line from the base of his hard penis to the tip, then run a slow circle around the top. A sudden, deep groan emitted from Fred's chest as Hermione took him slowly all the way in to her mouth. He wrapped his hands around her buttocks and delved his tongue back in, searching for and striking repeatedly at her special spot. She moaned around his length, and the vibrations send new waves of pleasure through him. Fred took one hand down from round Hermione's buttock and slipped it in beside his tongue, at the same time quickening his pace. Hermione matched his rhythm and soon they were both moaning more frequently. Fred somehow found the will to stop.
"Hermione…I…Hermio…" he gasped for breath, not wanting to come in her mouth but regretting stopping her anyway. Hermione slowly took all of him in her mouth once more and swallowed around him. Fred threw his head back and bit his lips to keep his cry from being too loud. As soon as she had sat up curiously he forced her to turn around and then lay down on her back once more. Instinctively, she spread her legs. Fred eagerly slipped in between and kissed her feverishly just before he thrust forward, burying himself deep within her. The cries of both mingled in to one sound as they found the pace quickening with each passing second. Fred could feel Hermione quaking with passion as she moved against him. He felt her nails draw down his back like claws and couldn't help to arch his back to the sensation. Then she was whispering his name over and over, her voice getting more wild and desperate with each uttering. The heat in the pit of his stomach swelled up and Fred could feel it threatening to consume him. All he could do was thrust deeper, harder. With a wild shout they both came together, their movements becoming frenzied and erratic as they rode their orgasms to the limit. When Fred came back down from his high and found he could move, he shifted his weight off of Hermione and found himself struck by the glow in her face. Her eyes were half-lidded as they looked up at him as if he were a god. Fred was taken aback by the unbridled emotion she was radiating. So he kissed her, and the process began again.
Stars. Stars that hang so high in the sky, and yet seem so close as to be able to reach out and capture their ethereal light in your fingers. Stars that were in truth nothing but giant fires but seemed like angels ascending. It was the stars that Fred had wished, more than anything, to see again. And it was the stars the he stared at now, his head on the pillow and his cheek against Hermione's hair, whose head was on his shoulder. Neither wore anything but the sheet wrapped about them, too exhausted from the activities they had continued from noon until dusk. Fred felt as if his body were at once screaming in pain and singing hymns of glory. He couldn't think of a single time when he had felt this happy, or this satisfied, ever in his life. He had watched Hermione fall asleep in his arms, and couldn't believe how lucky he was. Fred tucked his free arm around behind his head and gave the sky one last sweeping glance for what he had been searching for. There! His smile widened from a lazy grin to a small, satisfied smirk.
"Looks like I didn't even need you, huh?" he whispered to his favorite constellation. The large cluster that Fred had named 'Lady Luck' said nothing as usual, but Fred knew that he'd never need to send a prayer to her again. Of course, the wars were not over. There was still fighting left to do. Fred looked down at the woman in his arms. But now all of his fighting would be to stay at her side, no matter the cost. He pulled his arm from beneath his head and wrapped it around her shoulders, snuggling closer to her and breathing in her warm sweet scent.
"I am yours Hermione, to bend or break or give away." He whispered to the silent room and smiling to himself.
"And I am yours, Fred." Came the whispered reply of someone who should be asleep, yet seemed only pretending, "To keep with you forever."