Chapter One

Hermione Granger read the same paragraph for the 20th time before giving up and dropping the book to the floor. She rose from the well-worn sofa and began to pace restlessly around the rooms she was occupying above the Leaky Cauldron.

Just over a month had elapsed since what was now known as the Battle of Hogwarts and the school was still closed for repairs. After the dust had cleared and all of the funerals had taken place she had set off for Australia to retrieve her parents and restore their (now slightly edited) memories.

She brought them home and stayed with them for a short time, offering only the vaguest outline of what had occurred over the past year with minimal information on her involvement. They knew that a bad man had tried to take power, that there had been a conflict of sorts and that she had known some people that died. She decided to leave it at that.

The effort of always trying to measure her words around them began to wear on her, however, so she made an excuse about being needed at the school and returned to take up lodging at the Leaky Cauldron. The Weasleys had offered her space at the Burrow but it pained Hermione to see them all still in mourning for George, so she said the Leaky Cauldron would give her more space for her studies and no one questioned her.

She still got together with Harry and Ron whenever possible but the majority of their time was currently spent in Auror training. The death toll at the Battle had severely depleted the ranks of that elite unit. In response, Kingsley Shacklebolt had relaxed the rules regarding entry to the program, allowing many of her friends to begin their preparations without the previously required completion of their schooling at Hogwarts.

When not in training Harry and Ron were usually to be found in the company of Ginny and Padma. They often invited Hermione to go out with them but tonight she had declined. She thought those couples deserved their alone time. She felt that they had more than earned it.

Truth be told, Hermione was finding it challenging to readjust to this new pace of life. The last few years had been a neverending series of crises and now she was having trouble coping with a more routine existence. Daytime was usually manageable but evenings were more difficult. She tried to find solace in her books but at times an inescapable feeling of panic would blind side her. She would feel a sudden tightness in her chest, making it hard to breath.

Sometimes it was comforting to be indoors. Sometimes - like tonight – it seemed like the walls were closing in on her and the only remedy was to get outside. She grabbed her jacket and wand and darted down the back stairs and onto the deserted streets of Diagon Alley.

She walked quickly at first, as if trying to outpace something she could not see but eventually found herself standing in front of the brightly colored exterior of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. As she gazed at the front window, now covered with dust and dirt, a lump came to her throat. Using the sleeve of her jacket she attempted to clean off a small corner of the window to peer inside. In her mind she pictured it as it had been on that first day, dazzling and full of activity, Fred and George standing on the stairs proudly announcing the products for sale and teasing Hermione and Ginny about love potions.

The store had remained closed since the boys were forced to abandon it when the family went underground after being put under surveillance when the Ministry fell and it became known that Ron was helping Harry. Then after George's death...

She hadn't seen Fred since George's funeral. He was a wreck and, according to Ginny, had not been back to the Burrow or seen at the shop since that day. No one was quite sure where he was staying. The family was terribly worried about him.

The sound of breaking glass startled her from her thoughts. Her muscles tensed and she began to creep slowly towards the corner of the building. She heard the sound of metal against metal and then rustling coming from the alley behind the store. She gripped her wand tightly, braced herself and then leapt into the alley, ready to fire off a spell.

Instead of an intruder, however, she found herself in the presence of a disheveled and inebriated Fred Weasley, struggling to pull himself into a seated position next to the rubbish bin he had just overturned.

"Fred?! What are you doing?! I thought you were a burglar. I almost stupefied you!"

"Too late," Fred said as he gestured to the bottles of fire whisky in various states of consumption around him. "Beat you to it."

Hermione's nose wrinkled as she approached him. "You're drunk."

"Blimey. Nothing gets by you. Every bit as clever as everyone says."

Hermione made a face and sat down directly across from Fred in the alley. She waited but he didn't say anything else. "I was at the Burrow the other day." she ventured. No response. "They're all worried about you. You should stop by and let them know you're okay."

"Why?" Fred retorted. "So I can experience the joy of having everyone stare at me and only see their dead son or brother? To have people avoid me because they don't know what to say?" There was a short silence. "To wait for Mum to accidentally call me 'George'? To almost hear them thinking, 'Why him? Why isn't it George here instead?' "

"That isn't what they are thinking" Hermione protested.

"Really? Could have fooled me." Fred took a drink. "Besides, if family is such a great thing why are you here? Why aren't you at home with your folks?"

Hermione picked at a nonexistent piece of fluff on her jeans. "I was for a while. Got to be too much. I can't tell them what really took place here without driving them mad with worry, but they know something happened so they just keep trying to be "helpful". Combine that with…" She cut herself short. "It became…problematic. I finally told them that I signed up for an inter-term class and came back. Been staying at the Leaky Cauldron for a few days now."

Fred squinted into the darkness. "Where are Harry and Ron? Figure they must be about somewhere. "

Hermione tipped her head. "When they aren't immersed in Auror training, Harry and Ron spend most of their time getting…ahem…"reacquainted" with Ginny and Padma."

Fred pulled a face at the thought of his sibling's love lives.

"Ugh! Say no more, please. Don't need that mental picture."

He returned to his bottle. "What about you, Granger? Are you getting "acquainted" with anyone?"

Hermione adjusted the sleeve of her jacket. "Not that it's any of your business but no. The last couple of years have made relationships…complicated."

Fred nodded and they sat in silence again for a while before Hermione decided to change the subject. "So, when are you reopening the shop?"

Fred took another swig. "Who says I'm reopening the shop?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "But you have to!"

"Have to?! Good Heavens. Didn't know the ministry had developed laws about that as well!"

"Don't be daft." She spluttered. "You have to reopen. The community needs this place. They need somewhere they can go and laugh again."

Fred considered the now empty bottle in front of him. "See me laughing, do you?"

Hermione scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Opening the shop is what George would want you to do."

Fred's eyes suddenly blazed and he threw the bottle hard against the wall across from him, smashing it to pieces not far from Hermione's head. "Since when did you and everyone else suddenly become experts in what MY brother would have wanted?! None of you even bothered to learn to tell us apart when he was alive and yet after he dies everybody feels the need to tell me what he would want me to do!"

Hermione was overwhelmed by the fury in his voice. She took a few moments to collect herself. "You're right. Sorry. Of course, you knew him best."

Fred grunted, opening another bottle. "Blimey. An apology from Hermione Granger. Must look worse off than I thought."

Hermione decided to let that statement pass. She stared up at the sky. "But, for the record, I could always tell you apart."

Fred glanced at her with a dubious expression. She looked back at him. "Your smiles." Fred arched an eyebrow as she continued. "Both slightly lopsided except yours pulls up a little more on the right and whereas George's pulled up on the left. When you look at each of you in profile, George had a slight bump on his nose while yours is straighter. You also have a cluster of freckles near your left eyebrow that George lacked."

Fred considered this before raising the bottle approvingly in her direction. "Well spotted, Granger. Never thought you noticed."

She turned her attention back up to the stars. "That's what I do. I read and I notice things."

They sat in silence for a while longer before she decided to pursue the matter. "All right. We are in agreement that you knew George better than anyone else. So tell me this – what would George do now if the situation was reversed?"

Fred stared at her blankly so she persisted. "If you had been the one that died that day, how would George have reacted? More to the point, how would you have WANTED him to react?"

Fred shifted uncomfortably, taking another draw on his bottle, now refusing to meet her gaze. Hermione pressed even further. "I think that if you were the one gone, you would be furious to see George letting your dream go to ruin. So, instead of sitting around in the garbage, wondering why you lived and he didn't, perhaps your time would be better spent trying to live a life worthy of the both of you."

Fred kept examining the fire whiskey. Hermione stood and brushed herself off. "You're a grown man, Fred Weasley. You can do what you like. But to my mind, sitting in this alley, letting the shop sit empty and pissing your life away with that bottle is hardly a way to honor your brother."

She waited and, getting no answer, started out of the alley.

A voice came from behind her. "I can't."

Hermione hesitated but did not turn around. "Can't what?"

"Can't go inside."

Hermione returned and sat back down across from him. "Why not? Is there an enchantment on the building?"

Fred shook his head sadly in the direction of the back door to the shop. "Just…can't." He paused. "This wasn't just our shop, Granger. It was where we lived. Every inch of the place has memories of him. There isn't a single spot in there where I won't see Georgie. Hell - I can't even look in a mirror without seeing him."

Fred kicked at a piece of trash at his feet. "Besides we produced most of the items in that shop together. That's the only way we knew how to work – as a team. One would have an idea, the other would add to it – back and forth until we had it just right. I don't know that I could do it on my own. Always had someone there to finish my sentences if needed."
Hermione raised her chin slightly. "Been putting the sentences together just fine this evening."

Fred shrugged and looked away.

She took a deep breath. "So, the problem as I see it is that you need to open the shop…"

Fred began to interrupt but stopped when he noticed her glare. "You NEED to open the shop but you also need someone to help you do that. Solutions obvious, really."

"Oh it is, is it?" She nodded decisively. Fred decided to play along. "And for those of us that left school before completing the course in the obvious, what exactly would that solution be?"

"Me."

He snorted, "You?"

Hermione looked deeply offended. "Why not me? Not clever enough for you?"

Fred may have been drunk but he wasn't stupid enough to joke about that topic. He decided to instead turn the conversation back on her. "What's in this for you, huh? You never approved much of what we did here. Our "stupid little pranks" you called them on more than one occasion. Why are you so keen to do this?"

Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was the fact that he was drunk and she thought he probably wouldn't remember any of it later. Looking back, Hermione was never entirely certain what caused her to blurt out, "I need something to focus on or I am going to lose my mind."

Once she started, the words kept streaming out of her. "I have spent the last few years going non-stop. If I wasn't studying to be head of my class then I was trying to save house elves or I was hunting down horcruxes, making plans, devising strategies. I got used to always looking over my shoulder, wondering when the next attack would come, waiting for the next person I care about to get hurt or die and now I am supposed to just go back to a "normal" life when I don't even remember what that is…"

She found herself fighting back emotion. "I can't walk into a room anymore without mentally noting all of the exits and escape routes. I keep a bag packed by the door just in case…"

She took another deep breath. "I used to be able to sit for hours reading but now I get so anxious. It's like I don't know how to let down my guard and relax and when I fall asleep the dreams…." She bit her lip while shaking her head. "So now I either pace the flat over the Leaky Cauldron or walk around at night trying to maintain my sanity."

Her fists were now clenched. "I do best when I have structure and something to focus on but Hogwarts won't reopen for almost 3 more months and I don't know if I can cope until then." She leaned forward. "Please, Fred. I feel like I am getting ready to crawl out of my skin. Let me help – give me something to do. If not for your sake then for mine."

Fred's gaze went from her face to the bottle in his hand. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back against the wall and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh, bloody hell. I must be mental." He exhaled deeply and ran his hand through his hair. "Fine. But let's get some things straight right up front."

"Anything," Hermione interjected.

Fred raised a hand to silence her. "First – this is my shop. I make the rules. No going around rearranging things to suit your tastes or changing things without my approval. Got it?"

She quickly agreed. "Got it."

"Second – this is only for the short term. We get the shop up and running again and then this….thing…is over. Not making you a partner or anything."

"I won't even ask for wages and the next term starts in less than 3 months. Once school starts back you won't have to see me again until Harry and Ginny's wedding if you don't want like."

Fred made a sour face. "And please stop mentioning my sister's love life. My stomach can only take so much."

He eyed Hermione warily as she hopped up and extended her hand. "So we have an agreement then. When do we start?"

Fred sniffed. "Dunno. Next week?"

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "Next week? I was thinking more like tomorrow." Fred stared up at her blearily. Undaunted, she continued. "Say…8 am?"

He squinted hard and finally growled, "Noon". He attempted to stand, staggered and sat back down hard. "Ooof…Better make that 2." Hermione started to protest but Fred cut her off. "For your own safety, Granger. You don't want me casting spells when I'm hung over."

Hermione considered this and then reached down, took the bottle with the remainder of the fire whiskey from him and poured the contents on the ground next to her.

"Oi!" shouted Fred.

Hermione handed him back the now empty bottle. "One o'clock it is then. See you tomorrow, boss." She gave him a mock salute before striding out of the alley.

Fred watched her walk away before closing his eyes and wondering, "What the hell just happened?"