Title: Mistaken Identity

Author: GredMione Fan (Buffybot76)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that appear in this fic. I am simply borrowing them for my amusement and non-profit entertainment.

Pairing: Morris Talliver/Hermione Granger

Rating: PG for now, but may go to M later (if I continue) knowing me

Summary: After the war, Hermione decides to remain with her parents in the Muggle world for a year to make up for wiping their memories in order to keep them safe. While there, she runs into someone familiar... Or maybe not.

Genre: Romance/Crossover

Chapter 1

The war had been over for nearly four months. During that time, the members of the Golden Trio had come to terms with quite a few things.

Harry had come to terms with the fact that he was now the Godfather of a nearly five-month-old Teddy Lupin, and he was throwing himself wholeheartedly into the role. He and Ginny, although young themselves and not knowing much on how to raise a baby, were doing their very best to compensate for the tragic absence of the little one's parents. Harry was certain that even though Remus and Nymphadora were gone in body, they were still around in spirit, and the once widely proclaimed Boy Who Lived could feel their guiding hands every single day.

Ron and Hermione had both come to terms with the fact that despite what everyone – even they themselves – had believed, they were not meant to be romantically involved with each other.

Despite having shared a desperate kiss during the heat of the battle, the passion that they had expected to feel, wasn't there. Hermione and Ron had even gone on a date, once the fallen had been laid to rest and the rebuilding had commenced. The awkwardness they felt was a testament to the truth. Although they loved each other dearly, they simply weren't in love.

Hermione had come to terms with the fact that she had a decision to make about whether or not she wanted to retrieve her parents from Australia, and restore their memories – though, really it wasn't a tough decision at all. Of course, she wanted her parents back, of course, she did.

With help from Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly instated Minister for Magic, Hermione was aided in finding the elder Grangers' location, and she made the appropriate arrangements to travel to the 'Land Down Under'.

It had taken a couple weeks of preparation, but when she had finally arrived in Australia, Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she laid eyes on her Mum and Dad sitting at a patio table of a local coffee shop. For a few moments, Hermione hesitated. Her parents looked so happy smiling at one another whilst sipping their preferred drinks – her Dad a strong cup of black coffee, and her Mum a chai latte – that she could feel her anxiety building.

Would they be angry with her for what she had done? Would they hate her for taking away their choice simply because she had been scared of losing them? Would they ever forgive her?

'No,' Hermione thought, shaking away any lingering doubt and trusting in her heart. Steadily, she crossed the street towards her parents, her head held high.

In the end, the curly haired witch's worries were for naught. Her parents had forgiven her completely, of course, they had, how could they not? Hermione was their baby, their beloved little girl, whom they would always protect, no matter what they would have to do in order to accomplish that. With misty eyes, but elated smiles on their faces, Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gathered Hermione in their arms and held her tight. Her father planted a kiss on the top of Hermione's head, and she had cried as her mother's soothing voice filled her ears.

Their reunion was moved to another venue due to the odd looks that they were receiving. The Grangers took their daughter to the little house they had been living in since moving to Australia. It didn't take very long for Hermione's parents to come to a decision. They wanted to return to their old lives back in London, for it was their true lives, and they wanted to be closer to their daughter as they had been apart for far too long.

The guilt Hermione felt was immense, despite her parents' protests that she had nothing to feel guilty about, as she had been trying to protect them in the only way she knew how. However Hermione still felt like she owed them, thus she made a promise. Hermione would remain with her parents in the Muggle world and forget about the Wizarding world for the time being. "A year," she said firmly. "I want to make up for lost time." Her parents agreed, and within the next three weeks, they were back in London, settling back into Hermione's childhood home.

Hermione's final magical act was to use an owl to send a letter to Harry and the rest of the Weasleys, explaining what she had decided to do. She told them that after everything they went through, she owed her parents this, and she didn't want them to worry about her anymore. The brunette witch told them that she loved them all and requested that someone come to collect her at the end of the year. A reply was received within two days and with a happy smile on her lips, Hermione Granger had put away her wand, placing it reverently into a hope chest her mother had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday.

"Hermione, dinner's ready," Jean Granger's voice called from downstairs, and Hermione's smile widened.

"Coming, Mum!" Hermione said, sliding the chest under her bed, and leaving her room.

Six months later...

Hermione had no idea how she had gotten here.

Well, that was a lie. She knew exactly how she arrived here, the why was what was eluding her. Despite Chelsea's adamant assurances that she would enjoy their excursion to the club, they were currently having a drink at, Hermione wasn't so sure. For one, it wasn't so much a party location as it was a comedy club with a small bar tucked away in the corner. Hermione sipped at her red wine, intending to enjoy it. She was nineteen after all.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," Hermione grumbled into her glass. "They're not even funny!"

The petite blonde woman grinned. Hermione had met Chelsea four and a half months earlier via one of her visits to her parents' practice. She'd been dropping something off to her Mum and while in the waiting room, she had begun talking to Chelsea, who was waiting to have her teeth cleaned. The two had hit it off and had been hanging out regularly ever since. "Well, the closing act is really what we're here for. He's super funny, not to mention cute!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, it was because of a guy. She should have known...

It was getting late and Hermione hoped that the closing act would be starting soon. The old guy who was currently up on stage was horrid, all of his supposed jokes falling flat and making her wince internally from second-hand embarrassment. She glanced over when her friend's phone buzzed.

Chelsea flipped open her cell and lowered her head to whisper a greeting into it, covering her free ear with her hand in order to drown out the pseudo- comedian's voice as he began bringing his set to a close.

"Really? Oh, for goodness sake! Stay there, I'll be right over," Chelsea was shaking her head as she hung up and began gathering her things.

"What's up?" Hermione asked, sitting up straight and reaching for her bag, stopping when Chelsea shook her head.

"It's nothing, Rob just needs a lift home. He's a bit sloshed and doesn't want to risk driving. I'm going to give him a lift and then I'll be right back. You should stay and enjoy the entertainment," she winked at Hermione with a cheeky grin.

Hermione shook her head, unable to understand why Chelsea put up with her ex-boyfriend's antics. Honestly, didn't the guy have other friends willing to play designated driver for him?

"Hurry back," she said with a sigh, resigning herself to staying put.

"Will do."

Hermione watched her friend leave, not realizing that the old guy had finished his set and the announcer was back up to introduce the next act. She missed the person's name, however, she applauded politely before beginning to rummage in her purse for a bill, planning on going back for a refill on her drink.

Hermione froze when the voice of the person on stage began to speak. It was a hauntingly familiar voice.

Hermione wouldn't say that she was an expert on the Weasley twins, not really. Although she had always been a bit proud of the fact that she was among the select few who could truly tell them apart, even before George's ear had been hexed off. She had gotten good at even telling them apart without having to look at them, simply by the tone of their voices. George's voice was a bit deeper and had a richness to it that she was kind of embarrassed to admit sent small shivers down her spine. Fred's voice had had the same effect on her, but his voice hadn't been quite as deep as George's.

Hermione's eyes shot up from her bag toward the stage and the young man who was currently standing center of it with a mic in his hand and a joke on his oh-so-familiar lips.

No. It couldn't be. He..., he was dead. She'd seen it – seen his body laid to rest.

But then how in Merlin's name could Fred Weasley be standing in the middle of a stand-up comedy club, belting out a punchline that had the rest of the audience around her bursting with laughter?

With a shocked gasp, Hermione sprang to her feet a bit too quickly it seemed. Anyone who knew Hermione Granger knew that she was not one who fainted at the drop of a hat. It took a lot to rattle her. But this...

The audience who had previously been caught laughing at the cause of Hermione's distress, all turned to stare as the young woman uttered one word before crumbling to the floor gracefully.

"F-Fred?!"

Morris Talliver was a bit shocked, to say the least when a beautiful brunette sprang to her feet only a couple of minutes into his act. For a split second, he'd smiled, thinking he had actually acquired himself a fan, but then she'd gasped out another man's name before fainting on the floor and he had come back to his senses.

'What the bloody hell?' he thought.

With a look of confusion mixed with worry, he made his way off the stage and over to the woman, who was now surrounded by the patrons of the club, though no one seemed in a hurry to check on the poor girl. He knelt down beside her prone body.

"Miss," he spoke softly, gently tapping her on the cheek with the back of his fingers. He brought his other hand up behind her neck and cradled her head. "Miss, are you alright?"

For a moment there was no response, which allowed him to actually take in the young woman's appearance. She was quite pretty, he thought, with her heart shaped face framed by riotous brown curls. Long lashes and a cute button nose that was graced by a faint smattering of freckles. Her mouth was lax and slightly open, her lips full and oddly inviting, and all of a sudden he was overcome with an urge to lean down and kiss her.

Morris shook his head to clear it.

He glanced back down in time to see the young woman beginning to stir. A small moan escaped her lips and her long lashes fluttered before finally opening to reveal deep chocolate orbs that seemed to draw him in. Then their eyes connected and she screamed, immediately scrambling back away from him.

Morris' hands instantly shot up in a placating manner. "Wait! Please, I'm not going to hurt you!" he said, watching as a mix of emotions flashed her face until it settled on confusion.

"F-Fred? But how? Why would you allow your family to believe that you–" Hermione swallowed her words, her eyebrows furrowing in pain. "They've mourned you!" she exclaimed loudly in accusation, and Morris' eyebrows shot up in surprise. What the bloody hell was she on about?

"No! You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My name's not Fred," Morris said in an attempt to defuse the tension he could sense building. He stuck out his hand towards the girl in greeting. "It's Morris, actually. Morris Talliver."

TBC...