Hello. Alright, let me let you in on some things. This story is set on their sixth year, and not everything has happened yet. As you can see, the Christmas Holidays are only just about to happen, though that matters not. It's a bit changed. All has happened before Ginny and Harry's first kiss, pretty much.
Seeing as Remus/Hermione is one of my favorite couples, it is possible they will be a couple. Only possible, though. We'll see. In any case, this isn't a Time-Turner fic, it's one of thosee 'experiments gone wrong' fics. Some things will be cliche; some won't.
Review?
P.S; The story title is still in question.
Chapter One
HERMIONE Granger pursed her lips as her brows furrowed deeper and deeper, the book set on her lap barely being held on the same page. She pushed some hair out of her face and behind her ear, scowling at the sky outside the castle of Hogwarts.
She heaved a large sigh and closed her book (she was re-reading, for about the fiftieth time, mind you, Hogwarts, a History) and finally gave up, giving a grunt and resting her head against the tree bark. She closed her eyes and let the annoying yet calming winter wind ruffle her already-frizzy hair and took several deep breaths, calming herself and letting her be unbothered by some annoying first-year gigglers close by or some annoying third year boys muttering about something or the other.
She permitted herself to stretch her arms—a small cracking noise was made and she smiled in satisfaction at the pleasure she experienced. Hermione let her mind drift away for a moment, for once not worrying about the book that was now closed and sitting on her lap (though, admittedly, she knew every single word by heart now) and thought about how all the past events had affected her mind and her physical state.
She wasn't the only one to notice—everyone (meaning Ron, Harry, and Ginny) had noticed that she was indeed turning paler nowadays and was less hungry—her head hurt most often and her concentration wasn't at her best and she was, considerably, slimmer than she had been the previous year—or even during the summer holidays, to say the truth. She didn't let the worrying comments of her peers bother her, though. Only she knew that Sirius's death had been the thing that had shaken her the most; that it was truly the reason why she had thinned so much and her smarts weren't as, well, smart as they usually were.
Her heart hurt at the memory of Sirius. Hermione's eyes closed even tighter than they had before and her fists were suddenly clenched. Though Hermione thought very surely Sirius was reckless all the same in his older age, she had grown very fond of him—he was, after all, always looking after Harry (whom Hermione knew very well reminded him of James himself, Harry's father) and no matter what, was genuinely proud of his godson. And that she had had criticized him for what seemed eternity made her throat close up all over again.
She was just about to (maybe, possibly) let a tear roll down her cheek when she jumped in surprise at a call of her name. She opened her eyes and looked around to find one of her best friends, Ron Weasley, staring down at her with a peculiar expression plastered on his face. Hermione frowned and raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Yes, Ron? Do you need anything?"
Ron kept looking at Hermione for a while longer, then he bit his lip and sat cross legged in front of her. "Well," he cleared his throat, and Hermione noticed how his voice quavered slightly. "I was wondering what you were planning to do for the holidays. You know," he smiled shakily. "Since they're so close."
Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes slightly narrowed as she stared at Ron.
Hermione knew she had more than friendly feeling towards Ron, and she thinks she'd always known that; but the fact that neither of them—her or Ron—had tried anything for six years of knowing each other didn't really get her hopes up to think that Ron maybe felt the same towards her. Though, looking back now, there were signs—the fact that Ron scowled every time she mentioned Viktor Krum (and yes, she still dared mention him, as she kept in contact with him nevertheless) Ron always spat something rude about the guy and Hermione stopped arguing over this, knowing Ron was just jealous. But was jealousy really as much as to say that Ron could feel anything strong enough towards her?
Hermione cleared her head of these thoughts and pursed her lips. "Well," she said after a moment of pretense contemplating. "I was thinking of spending the holidays with my parents, see," she said. "I do quite feel guilty about letting them down so much over the years that I at least owe them as much as spending Christmas with them, do I not?" Hermione looked expectantly at Ron, who looked as though he had just been punched.
"Er—yes, I suppose," he cleared his throat and looked down, his ears going scarlet red. Hermione bit back a smile at this gesture. "I was just wondering if—maybe—you'd, er, like to—uh, you know," he fidgeted with his hands. "Harry and I, well, we, er—" Ron did not once look up as he struggled to find the right words. Hermione, feeling sorry for her poor friend (recently labeled as crush, she supposed) decided to take over for him.
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, and Ron merely glanced at her before fixing his eyes back to his own hands. "I don't suppose you're trying to ask me to spend the holidays with you, your family, and Harry, do I?" She raised her eyebrows and waited patiently for an answer from Ron.
Ron shrugged and Hermione giggled. "Well, if you were trying to ask that," Hermione continued nonchalantly. "I was planning on saying yes, but, seeing as you weren't, well—"
Ron's face immediately brightened and was raised to meet Hermione's eyes. Frantically, he interrupted Hermione mid sentence. "That's—that's wonderful news! Mum will be elated!" he blushed yet again and cleared his throat rather loudly. "And—and Harry," he pursed his lips and paused. "And me, of course. I'm happy, as well."
Hermione felt her face get hot and she smiled slightly at Ron. "Yes, I know you are." She grabbed her book and stood up, Ron standing up with her. "I'd better be going, then," she told Ron. "Must send Mum and Dad an owl letting them know that—well, I won't be joining them for the holidays." She nodded at Ron, and after saying their proper goodbyes, Hermione set off to the Owlery, almost skipping. This meant her relationship with Ron was certainly improving. Of course, she was never planning on spending the holidays with her parents—in fact, she had warned them that she might be spending them with her friends, hopeful that they might be kind enough to ask. She couldn't believe she doubted it for a second, but she finally calmed herself with the thought that, yes, Ron—er, her friends thought enough about her to invite her along for the holidays. She was ecstatic, and even thought about skipping the mail and just gliding up into the Gryffindor tower, but changed her mind. It might be nice to send her parents a letter, let them know how she was doing.
The fact was, apart from the whole Ron situation, she wasn't doing too well, indeed. What with the fact Harry was still obsessing over Malfoy (even after the bathroom incident, which still made Hermione boil with anger) and trying to find out what he was up to, and then him beating her at potions with the stupid book by 'the Prince' (and though Hermione did admit that she was rather jealous, she worried more about what type of mind the person that titled himself 'the Half-Blood Prince' really had), then there was those stupid Horcruxes she didn't get to find out more about, and the fact that, slowly, Voldemort was rising again.
And then there was Sirius, of course.
Yeah, apart from having a crush on Ron, she wasn't doing very well.
It seemed to take longer than usual to get to the Owlery, so she paused before entering to catch her breath. She wobbled a bit, but held herself steady, and was about to open the door when she heard voices from the other side.
Straining her ears to listen, she rested her head sideways on the door. Uncharacteristically, she wished she had then some of Fred and George's Extendable Ears to use. Hermione usually didn't like to eavesdrop, but the voices inside were hushed and rushed, and the curiosity (mingled with the happiness) was winning over her.
I must want those Extendable Ears very badly, Hermione thought to herself, for she thought that the voices belonged to none other than Fred and George, if she wasn't mistaken (and, not to be smug about it, she usually wasn't). She had heard their voices so long for six years, and they were indeed identical…the voices were hushed and yet eager, excited.
Maybe if she stepped inside…they couldn't hide, where was there room? And they couldn't Apparate or Dissaparate inside the castle, so the most they could do is to stop talking, right? Plus, she was crazy curious as to whether she was right. Taking a deep breath and taking her face from the door, she opened it quickly.
Indeed, to her surprise, both Fred and George Weasley were standing in the corner, various pieces of parchment in both their hands. They both stopped talking (as Hermione presumed they would) and tried to hide the parchments in their hands, but didn't succeed, instead, when they look round and saw Hermione, relief plastered on both their faces.
"Well, Miss Granger," Fred said, grinning. "It's nice to see you again."
"Absolutely enchanting," George added, and identical grin plastered on his face. Hermione didn't answer, only let her eyes linger on both the red headed twins for a moment. Then they traveled down to the parchments they were holding and narrowed. This didn't make any sense to Hermione. Fred and George weren't in Hogwarts anymore…how on Earth did they manage to get in?
"D'you know, Fred, I think she's gone either deaf or mute," George commented, amusement in his voice. Fred smirked.
"I do suppose something along those lines has happened, m'dear brother," said Fred. "Either that or she's speechless because of our good looks."
This brought Hermione back to her senses, her eyes snapping back to both of their faces. "The only reason I'm not greeting you like old friends," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Is because of the simple fact that, oh, I dunno, you're in Hogwarts?" Her eyes remained narrowed in suspicion, surveying Fred, then surveying George.
George smiled innocently. "My dear Hermione, how dare you question us? We have, after all, made legend to these grounds, it's not like they can be too reluctant to letting us back in," he said conversationally. He grabbed the parchments in Fred's hands and started studying them, as if they were nothing of importance to Hermione.
"And, it's not like we snuck into the castle," Fred added. "Although that would have been more fun, come to think of it."
Hermione frowned. "You—then how did you—"
"Don't I recall Fred telling you something last year that also came from that bad tempered curiosity of yours, Hermione? What was it you told her, Fred?" George looked expectantly at his brother, and Fred grinned.
" 'Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies.' I suppose you were here for something, were you not? Run along now, no need to linger. This is strictly business between the Weasleys in the room."
But Hermione stood her ground. "Both of you are out of your mind," she hissed. "You shouldn't be here. Not unless you have permission—and, assuming you don't, I would be more than happy to turn you in." This, of course, was untrue, but she wouldn't want the twins to get in trouble, so threatening them to leave was the better thing to do.
Fred smirked. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"
George sighed dramatically. "You've hurt our feelings, Hermione, you really have," he nodded earnestly. "How can you assume we aren't here without permission? Did we not just tell you we're here by request? Does your memory not linger so long?"
Fred shook his head in mock-shock. "Probably hexed herself, the poor girl, what with nobody wanting to practice with her."
Hermione was fuming and walked over to the twins, her wand out. "Don't you—why would you—"
"Put that away, Hermione," George said lazily.
"You wouldn't jinx us." Fred agreed.
Hermione was breathing deeply, but reluctantly put her wand away. "You guys should really get going." She finally said after a long moment of silence between all three of them. Fred shook his head.
"Honestly, Hermione, we're here on Dumbledore's request," she said. Hermione's eyes suddenly widened. Were they really? Why would Dumbledore want Fred and George here? Did Dumbledore have a craving to buy some joke toys himself? Impossible. They had to be lying. And yet, when had Hermione known Fred and George to lie about such things? In reality, they would choose any opportunity to go ahead and brag about it if they really had snuck into the castle.
"Why are you here—on Dumbledore's request?" Hermione asked. Fred and George sighed at the same time.
"We can't tell you, lady," George pressed on.
"And even if we could, why would we?" Fred challenged.
Hermione, shocked, admitted she was hurt. Of course, she was never the closest to the twins, not as much as Harry or Ron (being their brother and all) were, but she had thought they were at least friends. Maybe they wouldn't trust her with everything, but they had been through so much together admittedly, so the fact that they were keen to hide something from her caught her off guard.
"Oh," she said, taking a step back. She tried to keep her face mild, as if what Fred had just said hadn't stung her. "Okay." She turned back on them and started browsing the Owlery and trying to seem as she was trying to find a suitable owl. Stupidly enough, she ignored the fact she had no letter to send yet.
But Fred and George seemed to pick up on her feelings.
"Aw, come on, you know we didn't mean it that way," said Fred.
"Not to offend you or anything—you're a great mate, Hermione, really," George said truthfully.
"But there're just some things that a person has to keep between himself, his twin, and the headmaster." Fred finished.
Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, but found their words comforting nevertheless. Knowing that they weren't telling anyone else either was better, but she hid her small smile from them, and continued to pretend to browse. She heard one of them sigh and a ruffling of parchment, and then some unintelligible whispers, and she finally decided it was stupid to pretend any longer, so she gave up. She needed to write a letter first, of course.
She turned back to the twins and grimaced. "Well, good luck with…whatever you're doing," she said lamely, and started walking towards the door.
Before she was even halfway there, though, Fred called her back.
"Hey—wait a minute!"
Hermione froze and turned around, raising an eyebrow in question.
"D'you know, maybe you can be of some use," Fred said, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. George looked the same.
"Perhaps—you're right, Fred," George looked at Hermione. "Dumbledore wanted us to be absolutely sure it would work before presenting it to him, and we might as well test it on one of the most brilliant witches in school, right?"
Hermione blushed at the comment, but looked directly at the twins. "You see, I don't like being talked about when I don't know why you're talking about me." She raised an eyebrow, and both Fred and George grinned at the same time.
"Alright, here's the deal," George started.
"You want to know what we're up to, right?" said Fred.
"So all you have to do—"
"—if you really want to know—"
"—is let us test it (or the object we speak of, more like)—"
"—on you." Fred finished, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Hermione blinked, trying to take in what they had just said. They were, in a way, bribing her. They knew her curiosity was one of her weaknesses, but they also knew that doing the right thing would most probably be what she chose. So they won in both situations, really—she accepted the crazy offer, they got to test whatever it was and perfect it; she didn't accept it, and the curiosity would kill her and they could continue working uninterrupted.
She bit her lip. "I—I wouldn't know, seeing as I have no clue of what 'object' your making or the reason behind the making, for that matter," Hermione said smartly. She almost smirked. They had to let her in, she accepted or not. Maybe she could win anyway!
But Fred rolled his eyes. "That's not going to work out, you see. We have made an oath of secrecy, but we can break it if it involves said object."
"So either you accept at your own risk," continued George. "Or you walk away without ever knowing what the hell we speak of."
They both beamed at Hermione.
Hermione's hopes were crushed. Of course. The twins were too clever—even for her, sometimes—and they wouldn't let her win this battle. She bit her lip and looked at her feet, avoiding their smug faces.
She could accept—after all, when have George and Fred really put her, or anyone else, in danger? Then she would know what all this commotion was about. But then again, she might not like what she was being used for. And if her predictions were right, they hadn't ever tested it before—Fred's comment about testing it on a brilliant witch (her ears went red) made her guess that they were actually waiting for the right person to test it on.
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think rationally. It—it couldn't hurt, could it? She would just be testing something of their invention, maybe even another joke shop material, something small and harmless, she might puke a couple of times, but what did that matter, really? She knew a few counterjinxes that would make it stop (though she never got around to telling them to Fred and George—they wanted to invent it, they could figure it out on their own). So, Hermione thought, what was there really to lose?
Except a body part?
She shuddered. No, she was being ridiculous. The twins wouldn't put her in that type of danger. So she looked up, her eyes narrowed, as if daring them to say something snide to her. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "I'll test—whatever it is you're making. But you have to promise me it won't be dangerous."
Fred and George's grins spread wider. "Of course not!" they said together.
"We promise no physical harm will come to you, our fellow female friend," Fred said happily.
"Wait, no physical—?"
"And seeing as the object isn't with us right now," George spoke over her, as if trying to avoid the question he knew was coming. "You'll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend. But no worries, it's not so far away from here. Only one more week, I presume?" He looked at Hermione.
Hermione was rethinking her choice. "Uh, yeah, I think so," she said. For the first time, she didn't sound confident or snide. She was scared, and she knew the reluctant and fearful tone was very audible in her voice. The twins looked amused by it.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione, it'll be fine," George assured her.
"Yeah, you'll soon see that what we're working on is brilliant," Fred said proudly.
"And even you can't argue, seeing as the idea was Dumbledore's and not ours." George reasoned.
With that comment, Hermione visibly relaxed and even managed a small smile. "Alright, then," she sighed. "Where shall I meet you, then?"
Fred pondered. "The Shrieking Shack." He said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"But wouldn't people notice that you were going inside one of the most haunted residencies in Hogsmeade?" Hermione reasoned, and the twins smirked.
"You can Apparate, Hermione, you do realize that?" George asked her.
"Yes, you can," Hermione snapped. "I, on the other hand—"
"Are merely a baby," Fred finished, then smiled. "No worries. We'll set up a special entrance for you. You know the store next to it, 'Charming Chocolates'?"
Hermione strained. She couldn't remember any store with that name anywhere near the Shrieking Shack. "Uh, no. Not really."
George nodded. "Well, it's not really next to it,"
"Just hypothetically." Fred said.
Hermione blinked. "Would you mind explaining what that means?"
George rolled his eyes. "Just look for 'Charming Chocolates', then. Once inside, tell the store manager that you have to run an errand for Fred and George Weasley up in the attic."
"He'll agree immediately—he's very fond of us, you see," Fred smirked.
"And he won't notice you won't be back down for a while, Charming Chocolates is always full of third years." George assured her.
"Once in the attic, tap the Muggle painting of lions on the wall with your wand, once to the left, once in the middle, and once to the right," Fred continued.
"Even if non-magical, the painting will open and there will be a door behind it. We'll make sure it's unlocked," George added.
"You might want to light your wand first. It may seem like a long way, but don't worry—you'll get there. Straight into the Shrieking Shack, we mean." Fred finished.
Hermione stared blankly at them. She attempted to speak a couple of times, and finally, strangled words came from her. "How—how is it possible you know this?"
Fred and George smirked.
"Ask us no questions—"
"—and we'll tell you no lies. Now," George told her. "Off you go, then. Remember all we have told you. If you don't show up—"
"—it is automatically assumed you chickened out." Fred smiled at her and waved her off.
Hermione blinked once more and wanted to ask countless questions, but she knew she was going to get no where. Instead, without a thought about what she went up there in the first place, she walked out of the Owlery, closed the door behind her, and rushed back down to the common room. She didn't know why, but she wanted to talk to someone about this—but she couldn't, they had told her they had sworn to secrecy; she had only been and exception because of the fact she was testing the damn thing at all.
But knowing that she wasn't about to 'chicken out', she walked into the common room without a word to anyone and straight to her dormitory. She must have been mental to accept this request…
But then again, 'mental' was something she was getting accustomed to.