The Master of the Hallows

AN: As much as I loved the original version of DH, the ending didn't seem right to me. So, although I could never dream to be as good an author as The Queen herself, I decided to rewrite it so it fit into my own little world- because I am awesome that way. Read and review please! :'}

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise ;)

Chapter one: A difficult beginning to a long year

The sun was high in the sky, floating over the picnic site in Ottery St Catchpole, where a small girl with bright, chocolate brown eyes and unruly bushy, brown curls danced with a tall, similar looking man, whom placed white daisies in her hair. Dad, I thought. The girl was an eight year old me, dressed in her white t-shirt with a fluffy orange cat on it, her short, blue, denim dungarees and her white slip-on trainers. The little giggling version of me twirled a little flower in her hand before turning to her mother, my mother. The little grin on little me's face widened at the sight of my mother holding a camera and laughing at the two most important things in her life. I stood (present time me) at the edge of the woods, watching the happy family play in the summer wind, not caring about the world around them. I knew this memory; it was the beginning of my new life. Younger me turned the white daisies from the pure, clean colour, into several bright, happy colours- My first case of accidental magic.

Sometimes I regret that day. Even now, when I see my Mother drop the camera and my father push me away... wait, Dad never pushed me away. The adults in front of little me twisted and became evil creatures, ones that haunted my nightmares; Death Eaters. The ever loyal followers of Lord Voldemort turn towards me, grins spreading on their faces as they begin the hunt. My instincts tell me to run, to hide, yet my feet are frozen to the muddy floor- as if the mud has swallowed them whole. The Death Eaters creep forwards, their dark, hollow eyes set on me- their helpless prey. I wanted them to lift their wands and just get it over with, instead of torturing me with those stupid games. Little me still sobbed for her parents, screaming for them to still love her at the top of her lungs, adding to my torture as my screams mingled with hers to create a maddening duet. I didn't know why I was screaming, or at least, not until I saw them, motionless and dead or dying. At the bottom of this pile of decaying bodies lay my muggle parents, being the bottom of the food chain in the wizarding world. Next were my muggle-born friends from Hogwarts, followed by my half-blood friends. Then it became more traumatic. Harry 'the chosen one' Potter lay defeated under the bodies of my second family- the Weasleys. At the top of the pile lay none other than Fred Weasley, reaching out for me to end his pain or to take a vain effort to save me. His bright blue eyes fluttered shut and his outstretched arm fell limply down the side of the mass grave. My screams became louder and more painful before one of the Death Eaters raised their wand to strike... and then I woke up.

The sweat dripped off my face, wiping the dream from my memory. I was seventeen and nightmares still scared me more than anyone I knew. Over the field that used to be the picnic site, I could see the sun rising, illuminating the swing set that lay in the middle. "Everything had to change..." I sighed as I step out of bed, brushing my now-less-rebellious curls into a ponytail. A few years before this, I never knew anything about Hogwarts or magic, by then I'd learned almost everything. That way, we could survive (if only for a few months) me, Harry and Ron- the golden trio, the force that was believed to bring the darkest of lords down. I had been dragged into this through loyalty to Harry, whom had been forced to fight after his parents were murdered. It wasn't fair; yet, neither was Voldemort. I looked over to my alarm clock, which read 4:30am. Sleep was no longer an option for me, my cat- Crookshanks- was already at the Burrow and my things were packed in my beaded bag (which I had cast an undetectable extension charm on) or my Hogwarts trunk, leaving me nothing to do but think. 'I don't want to do this', I thought, unshed tears clouding my vision. I had to be strong, I had to protect my parents; I didn't have a choice. Voldemort would never stop until he had Harry, whom he couldn't get without killing me. I would fall if he killed my parents.

'No, I can't think like this', I thought, trying to stop myself from crying. By then, my alarm clock read 6:10am, which is just before my parents would get up. Pigwinton sat on my desk, drinking the water I had put out for him last night. He'd arrived with Ron's update letter last night, fitting perfectly into my plan. The left-hand side of my desk (which sat in the far corner of my purple room, opposite my bookshelf) was still taken up with piles of parchment, books and a letter to Mrs. Weasley, ready to send and asking if I could stay for the rest of summer. Pig took up the rest of the desk; which was surprising for a small owl like him. Slowly, I gave the energetic bird the letter, picked him up and moved over to my window. Once the parchment was securely tied around the owl's leg, he pecked at my fingers affectionately before gliding elegantly over the woods and towards the burrow. I watched him fly for a while. He was so free and I would have been lying if I had tried to tell you I wasn't jealous. I think it was then that the first tear fell, cascading down my face and landing on the fluffy white carpet. I cried for a while, just standing there, looking out the window as the sun rose. I felt hollow, empty and weak, I deserved to cry.

About an hour later, Pig returned with my confirmation. I'd cried for a while, feeling sorry for myself and being utterly pathetic, but I'd pulled myself together, becoming cold and untouchable, like I needed to be. 'Now or never' I thought, grabbing my trunk, filled with books, pictures and clothes, as well as my beaded bag. My wand rested in my back pocket as I descended the stairs into the hall way. To my left was the kitchen, where my mother and I had made cake for my birthday every year since I was 5. To my right was the living room where every year, On Christmas day, my Dad and I danced to my favourite song before he and my mother would dance for the rest of the night, while I played with my new toy or read my books. Just through there was the doors that lead to the patio, which lead to the garden. Leaving my bags in the hall, I walked through to the living room, my head held high and my heart breaking more with every step I took. My hands shook as I opened the door to the patio, revealing the deck, painted deep brown and decorated with matching furniture. Memories flashed in front eyes, my father building the table and chairs, my Mother putting up the colourful lanterns that illuminated the deep green grass just beyond the deck. The way those lanterns lit up the morning dew seemed like magic, yet my parents where as muggle as possible. This world, the one with pretty lanterns, homemade furniture and safety, was the one my parents belonged in; I did not belong there, among the fake magic created by electricity, children's illusionary tricks and perfectly trimmed and tamed gardens, where not even one blade of grass was out of place. Maybe I did, but not after what had happened throughout my Hogwarts years, I belonged in a world with real magic not one of these boringly perfect worlds. I belonged in the mists of adventure, in the front lines of the fight. Knowing this, I put my wand in my left hand, ready for use; One little spell and my parents would survive this terrible war, even if I didn't. "Mum, Dad!" I shouted as the emotion returning when it was least wanted. Moments later they walked out of my Dad's little, brown, moss covered shed, carrying what looked like a new chair, a tea pot and some china mugs. I couldn't wait anymore; I would just cry and never leave, which would help no one. "I'm sorry, I wish it could be different" I choked, watching as their brown eyes clouded with confusion and wishing I could be different, that I could be a normal seventeen-year-old girl. I quickly became hollow again, but this time, I used magic to guide me. My wand became an extension of my arm, guiding me on what I needed to do. It connected to my brain and my power source making my part almost effortless as the word fell out of my mouth, completing the spell that would both destroy and save their lives. "Obliviate", the word tumbled out of my mouth, ringing with authority and power, yet it echoed in my ears like someone else had muttered it. Using magic gave me a curtain of calm to hide behind while my parents fell to the floor from the sheer power of the memory altering spell, giving me the strength to walk away, knowing they would be safe. I walked back to my things in the hall way, I didn't linger; I simply picked up my things and disappeared to the burrow, leaving the muggle world behind for what I thought was the last time.

My things fell to the floor first, landing at the base of one of the many apple trees which sat in the burrow's orchard. I still had my curtain of power from using so much magic which allowed me to remain standing while I insured my safety. The trees glistened lightly while the leaves danced in the cool breeze and the atmosphere was heavy with real magic. Just beyond the archway on the edge of the orchard was the meadow, a beautiful flower-filled field that lead to the burrow's back garden. I thought being so far away from the burrow and its residents would give me time to recover, but I wasn't expecting what actually happened. My emotions overcame my barriers, forcing me to the leaf covered floor. The dried mud created a cloud around me, making my sobs combine with coughs until the thick dust cleared and my weeping continued alone. I felt powerless and weak, like I was decaying with the discarded leaves and flying away in the wind alongside the dried mud. I let my tears mingle with the dusty path while I curled into a ball under the cover of the trees, allowing my blue jeans and red t-shirt to get dirty while I let myself out of the prison that was my own head. I was too busy crying to hear their footsteps, but I'm glad I was because nothing would have turned out the same if they hadn't have found me.

My tears had blurred my vision by the time two almost identical figures bounded into the orchard. They stopped under the archway, looking at me. Usually I can tell you who each Weasley was without an effort, not even for the twins. Yet here I sat, unable to remember whether or not these figures (whom were clearly Weasleys) were there to harm me or not. My mind was clouded with distraught so I simply sat up and shuffled to the base of a nearby apple tree, begging it for protection and forgetting I was still clinging to the cool wood of my wand with my left hand. The figures looked at each other for a moment before moving in perfect sync but different directions. The taller of the two ran towards the Burrow while the more broad-shouldered one slowly approached me. When he stepped into the light, provided by a gap between two trees, he stopped- he'd noticed me shrinking into the side of the tree- allowing me to analyse him (out-loud because my mind was still occupied with my guilt).

"Ginger hair and bright blue eyes- you're defiantly a Weasley so you won't harm me, but which one are you? You're smaller than Ron and not as lean either, yet not as short or broad-shouldered as Charlie. Your hair is shorter than Bill's and you're not as broad-shouldered as him either, though, you are a similar height, so you could either be Percy or one of the twins because you're obviously not Ginny. Considering Percy has curly hair and brown eyes plus he isn't talking to anyone right now, you're one of the twins." He nodded in reply, a sweet smile on his face to comfort me.

"I bet you don't know which one though" he replied, attempting to keep my mind off what had happened so I could calm down. His plan was working to a degree.

"George is half-an-inch taller than Fred while Fred is more Broad-shouldered. George's eyes are baby blue with green flicks; Fred's are a pure sky blue. George has more freckles on his left cheek and Fred has more on his right, but he doesn't have a mole under his left ear like George does. Fred's hair is longer and more of a red colour while George's is more orange. George's voice is slightly deeper; Fred's smile is more mischievous. That means you're Fred." I declared, feeling safer now I knew who he was. Fred nodded in reply, creeping towards me slowly. When he reached the tree, he slid down its trunk until he was sat beside me on the cool, dusty floor and then snaked an arm around my waist. My tears had already begun to slow because of his distraction, yet I felt better when he hugged me into his side and wiped a tear from my cheek. His presence was soothing and his comforting whispers had the desired effect, yet I still had tears to shed and my mind was still digesting the day's events. He didn't pressure me into telling him what had happened like his brother would have, he simply let me cry into his yellow polo-shirt, soaking and ruining it.

"Hermione, what happened?" Fred asked with his a low and soft voice but eyes full of concern and fear. I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to phrase my words.

"I-I altered my p-p-parents' memories, s-s-so they'd be safe while I'm gone. T-t-they are going to Australia to have a f-f-fresh start" I explained, hoping he would understand and not call me selfish or insane. For a moment, Fred looked at me while I sobbed silently, but when I tried to hide my face he put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him.

"I had no idea you were so brave, 'Mione, love. I could never have done that, even if it was necessary, like now. You have just left your-self an orphan to help Harry and my brother do whatever you're planning and I bet they never once say thank you, just like every other time you've saved them. They'd be hopeless without you and you've no need to prove yourself, yet every year you do and each time you get closer to perfect. They don't deserve you, yet you're still loyal to them and I admire that." He explained with eyes full of awe and a sweet smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you." I whispered, smiling in return and wiping tears from my cheeks.

"When did you get wise on me, Freddie?" George called from the archway, which he was leaning against, one foot propped up against it.

"Always have been, Georgie, you just haven't noticed, brother-o'-mine" Fred called back, making me giggle (my tears had stopped half way through his speech). He looked back down to me and smiled, clearly pleased with the effect his jokes and comforting had on me. I didn't know why, but the way his arm was, wrapped around my waist, it felt right, like it was the only thing tying me to my sanity at that moment and I never wanted him to let go of me, encase I ended up with my own private ward in St. Mungo's. I know it was more than that now.

"Is she alright?" George asked with a voice filled with concern.

"She's as alright as a person could be after they altered their parents' memory to save them from You-Know-Who." Fred replied, sounding proud.

"...You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you Granger?" George replied while looking at me with awe filled eyes like his twin had. At least they understood- at least I wouldn't be alone.

It was then that Ron came charging into the clearing, pushing George to the side on his way past, almost making George fall to the ground. When Ron reached me and Fred, he didn't stop and ask if I was okay, he simply kneeled in front of me and violently dragged me out of his brother's comforting hold. He'd hurt me in the process and- judging by the looks he was getting from George- he'd hurt the elder twin as well.

"It's alright, Hermy, I'm here now." He said- his breath hot and sticky on my neck as he embraced me. I knew he was trying to be sweet, yet his actions had hurt us and he'd called me Hermy.

"Yes, Ronald, you made that perfectly clear when you pushed George into the archway and pulled me away from Fred, whom managed to stop me crying after doing the most traumatic thing I've done in my entire life. On top of that you've hurt me and you called me Hermy! My name is Hermione, not Hermy! I know you are trying to make it better but you are just adding to my stress levels and I really don't need that right now, sorry." I said as I pushed him away. Both twins looked at me in awe. An awkward silence descended on us like a heavy fog in a spooky grave yard in a horror film. The only sound was Ron's heavy panting and Fred, George and I's slow, steady breaths.

"...I will just take your stuff inside then" Ron said, effectively lifting the silence as he got up and picked my beaded bag up before looking back at me, as if he was waiting for me to join him.

"Thank you, Ron." I replied, leaning back against the tree next to Fred, making it clear I wasn't ready to go to the house yet. He got the message and stormed off towards the warmth of the Burrow, not sparing me another look along the way. It was quiet for a moment before the twins burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs and rolling on the floor. George leaned forward over his body while Fred leaned back against the tree- yet another difference between the two as this is what they always did. Eventually George followed Ron, carrying my trunk, which he had picked up from the base of a near-by tree. He skipped slightly with each long stride and looked back at us when he reached the middle of the meadow, smiling like he knew something I didn't. Fred then rose to his feet, looking at George with a mischievous smile spreading across his face. George nodded at him, his smile turning almost as mischievous as Fred's whom nodded in return before turning to me, a brilliant glitter in his beautiful, blue eyes. After a moment he held a hand out to me, so he could help me to my feet. I eyed him carefully, trying to determine if it was safe or not to accept his help. Eventually, I accepted his hand (after he had given me a look of feigned innocence) only to find he wasn't just helping me up, but hauling me over his left shoulder too.

"Fred!" I screamed.

"Since everyone is carrying something!" he explained between laughs. I couldn't help but laugh with him while he ran towards the burrow, skipping slightly with every step, just like George had done. We passed George in the garden and he stopped to laugh at us, dropping my trunk.

"Fear not, fair maiden! I shall save you!" George shouted as he started running after Fred, whom laughed harder in reply.

"You will have to catch me first!" Fred called, over the shoulder that didn't have me over it. They ran for a while, me over Fred's shoulder until George tagged him and put me on the floor. The two boys hugged for a second before turning to me, mischievous grins spreading across their faces. I laughed and ran away from the two, whom quickly followed, laughing just as hard as I was. They caught me easily, Fred putting his hands on my waist and lifting me to their height so both he and George could place wet, soppy kisses on each of my cheeks. I squirmed in their hold, laughing and screaming at the same time. Then we all sat in the grass, me in the centre of the twins on the soft grass of the gnome-infested garden. We watched the clouds go by, naming those that had strange shapes and laughing at jokes Fred or George had told. When the rain fell, they jumped to their feet before grabbing both of my hands and pulling me off the floor, yet they would never let anything ruin their fun.

We danced around the garden, George and I first (George can't dance to save his life, even all these years later), eventually having the twins swap roles (Fred was- and still is- a brilliant dancer). By time we went inside, it was dinner time and the rest of the Weasleys sat around a table ready to eat dinner. Seeing them sit around a table like a normal family made me envious and disappointed in myself. Ron didn't sense this.

I took my usual seat between Ginny and Ron while across from the twins (Harry would usually sit between me and Ginny when we were all at the burrow). For a while, usual conversations went on. Ginny and I spoke about our summers so far (although it was still mid July), the twins spoke to Ron about a summer job at the shop ("You just want a test subject, no way")and Bill, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley spoke about the wedding. Every now and again, someone's eye would rest on me, like they were waiting for someone to ask me something. It made me feel like I was being prosecuted by the ministry.

"So, Hermy, why did you need to come here so early... err not that we don't love having you, but you were crying when you got here" Ron said, cutting Ginny off in the middle of her explanation of the summer. Every conversation ended, every eye pointed at me, yet I could only stare at Ginny. I sat completely still while under an invisible spotlight while a single tear fell, my back was straighter than usual and my eyes remained closed. Then they were there. Two pairs of long arms wrapped around my cold and broken body, snapping me back out of my prison again.

"It's all right, you had too, and it's not your fault. We're sorry he's such a git and doesn't understand when to ask people about things like this- So sorry that he's now going to be our test subject for a month, without complaint or you can hex him into next year." George whispered in my ear, cheering me up and comforting me at the same time.

"Don't be too harsh..." I whispered pathetically.

"We won't, he will only get what he disserves, we promise" Fred whispered as he drew a cross over his heart with his hand.

"How can I make sure it's not too far by my standards?" I whispered in return, feeling stronger.

"You could do the summer job, if you'd like of course..." George whispered in reply, a slither of hope crossing his voice.

"I will think about it" I said, smiling slightly. Both twins let go of me and returned their places, smiling at me with hope burning in their eyes (a hint of something else danced in Fred's eyes but I couldn't see what it was). Every eye was still settled on me, some with a look of confusion and intrigue (Bill and Mr Weasley) some with a hint of anger (Ron) and others with knowledge and curiosity (Mrs Weasley and Ginny). I took a deep breath. "To save my parents from harm during the war, I've erased their memories. They are now on their way to Australia for a fresh start in life." I explained. Ron grabbed and squeezed my hand, his palms sweaty, sticky and to warm. Ginny pulled me into a hug, hiding her own tears and whispering 'I'm sorry' in my ear. Mrs Weasley looked horrified and Mr Weasley was sympathetic. Each copied Ginny's actions, Bill adding 'I knew you were tough, but wow'. I explained how Fred and George cheered me up and helped me clear my head, which caused both of them to turn a deep crimson, starting at the tips of their ears.

"Wait, wait! You're telling me my twins, my immature prankster children, were sensible enough to know exactly what to say to comfort you. Are you sure it was them?" Mrs Weasley asked me, her maternal smile spreading across her face as she looked at the two boys (whose skin was now just as red as their hair in a brilliant blush) and back to me.

"Yes, Mrs Weasley" I replied, nodding politely, "they were perfect gentlemen."

"Oh, look at my babies! I knew I did something right!" Mrs Weasley squealed as she locked the twins into one of her bone-crushing hugs.

"Mum, as much as we're flattered..." George began.

"...We can't breathe." Fred finished, making his mother let go of them. Immediately they walked over to me and flanked both sides while the rest of the family laughed at their antics. They made me feel safe and loved while also getting me to relax more than anyone else could, Fred more-so than George. It was then that I saw my face on the Weasley family clock- a new addition to the magical object but an old photo of a 12 year old me taken on the return to 9 ¾ after the basilisk attacks. My hand on the clock pointed at home. I realised, I was home where ever these people around me- and Harry- gathered. So, as Ginny and the boys ran outside to play Quiddich with me trailing behind, holding my favourite book (Hogwarts: A History) and heading to my favourite tree, I knew it was all going to be okay.