Disclaimer: Still not mine, darn, belongs to the great J.K. Rowling

A/N: This is where I'll warn you that this story deals with some dark themes, even you don't like those I would suggest not reading it. It is still a Fremoine story, and there are lots of little bits to lighten it up. I also am not sure how long it is going to be. I hope you all enjoy the ride.

Chapter 1

The Gingotts clock rung twelve times over the packed street of Diagon Alley. The door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes burst open as a little boy ran from his sister carrying what looked to be her doll. He stopped on the other side of the street and pretended to chuck it towards a puddle. The little girl refused to cross the street without their mother, and instead wailed at her taunter to give her dolly back. The children's mother and father strolled out of the shop seconds later, and while the mother helped the daughter cross the road the father crossed quickly and scolded his son. When the mother and daughter had arrived on the other side the little boy held the dolly out to his sister and apologized. The little girl checked her dolly over for any sign of damage, and seeing none threw her arms around her brother in forgiveness.

Near the door of the shop the family had exited stood a young woman in her early twenties with bushy brown hair. She smiled at the scene that had just played out before her, and entered the crowded shop.

"Hermione," a voice shouted above all the ruckus that was this most popular joke store in all of magical Britian. Hermione looked up to the stairs that connected the first and second levels and saw a tall man with fiery red hair holding up his arms over his head in his excitement to see the new patron. She smiled at him, wondering how anyone could be that excited to see her when they saw her everyday. Her own husband never had such a glowing smile threaten to break his face when he saw her.

"Hello Fred," she called back before the new stand near the door caught her eye. He was already trying to get through his customers and down the stairs, so she didn't feel bad for breaking the moment to go examine the new merchandise. They looked like party favors, over-sized whistles, bubbles, and different kinds of noise makers. She had learned in all of her years of knowing the Weasleys to examine everything with her eyes at different angles before daring to pick something up. While she was searching for a warning of any kind Fred made his way to her side.

"They're safe," he told her as he nudged her with his shoulder. "Try the bubbles."

She gave him a wary look before gentle reaching for a red bottle of bubbles. He moved to stand behind her, and turned her so that she wouldn't get any of the bubbles on the stand. She became even more cautious, and slowly opened the bottle before blowing a short breath through the hole. Instead of clear bubbles, tiny specks of fizzing lights flew out of the wand. She blew a steady breathe into the hole, and instead of tiny specks a large ball of light began to grow. Fred pulled her back when it finally detached from the wand, and began to float above the shoppers. Many of the shoppers looked up at the ball of crackling light and when it finally touched the bottom of second level's platform it exploded with a great boom.

"Firecracker bubbles?" She asked, a small smile on her face showing how entertained she was with the idea.

"Yeah," Fred beamed at the small glint of pride that shined in her eyes. "It was my idea. Ready to go to lunch?" He asked as she put the bottle down.

"More then, I'm starving. I got involved in a chapter and forgot to get something for breakfast." She said as she touched the back of her neck. The smile on Fred's face disappeared for a moment, but it was back so quickly that she barely had time to register it.

"Well then, we better get some food in that tummy before we have a true starving artist on our hands." He said as he poked her in her side. She jumped, and he laughed knowing that he had gotten her right in one of her most ticklish spots.

"You are evil Fred Weasley," Hermione reminded him as he walked away to tell George he was taking his lunch break. He tossed his head back in a laugh, turned around and winked at her. She smiled to herself as she waited for him.

"Ready," he asked a few minutes later as he held out the door for her. She nodded, and gave him a word of thanks for holding the door as she walked out. He shrugged, and let the door shut as he placed his hand on her back to lead her the restaurant they were going to eat that day. They walked in a comfortable silence as they manuevered around the masses crowding Diagon Alley.

Hermione barely came up to the mid of the tall Weasley's upper arm. Her brown eyes looked everywhere, taking in all of the sights and sounds that was this main road in the Wizarding world. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. Her stride was comfortable and confident. Fred's hand never left the middle of her back as they made their trek. His head was held high as he walked with an air of a man that owned the entire world. His blue eyes looked at the sign of the restaurant he was headed to, but would glance down every few moments to look at the woman walking beside him.

"So, what's it going to be?" Fred asked after they had stared at the menu for a few minutes.

"Oh, I just think I'll have a salad." Hermione answered, just as her stomach gave a loud rumble. She blushed knowing it was one of those hunger sounds that the next table over could have heard. Fred glared at her until she added, "And the pie of the day." Her voice wavered, and he knew that she really had been thinking about having just a salad.

"He's drinking again." Fred said as he stormed into the office. Their part-time cashier, Jill, could handle the after lunch down time that the shop had between 1 and 2. George was sitting behind the desk reading the Daily Prophet's business section. At the outraged comment from his twin, George folded the paper and placed it neatly on his desk, before turning his eyes up and giving Fred his complete attention.

"What?" He asked, having been too interested in the quidditch article he was reading to actually comprehend what his brother had said.

"Your little brother is drinking again." Fred growled. "She didn't eat this morning, and if I know her like I think I do, I'd be willing to bet she didn't have dinner last night either. Meaning he's spending his paycheck on the bottle instead of putting food on their table. Merlin," he groaned as he flopped into his chair, "why did she have to marry him?"

"Um, because she loves him?" George answered. "I believe that is why we get married."

"No, no, no," Fred shook his head furously, "do not put that shame of a marriage in the same category as you and Angelina. You respect Angelina, you love Angelina, you would never hurt Angelina. Ron, Ron isn't the same person he used to be."

"I know Fred," George sighed. "But he needs her, and I think, just maybe, she might need him."

"How, how could she possibly need him. He lets her starve, and I think he might..." Fred would never want to accuse his little brother of what he suspected, but that didn't make the suspicions go away.

"I don't know everything you do Fred, but I do know that they both feel like a part of them is missing. They helped him save the world, more then once. Ron and him saved Ginny that year with the Chamber of Secrets. Merlin and him are the only ones that know what happened during their first year. They had to stay away from Sirius, and then find out the truth about that whole story. He probably wouldn't have made it through the Tournament without them. Then the war," George reminded his twin of everything their brother, his wife, and his best friend had been through in the years they were together. "You go through all of that together, and a little bit of yourself is made up of the others. They already lost one part of theirselves, if she was to leave him she'd lose a whole other part."

"That man she is married to is not the boy she was friend's with in school." Fred argued. "She already did lose that part of herself, because that man she's married to killed the boy we grew up with."

When Fred was this angry with the youngest Weasley son George knew there was no true reasoning with him. A part of him suspected the same things that his twin did, and their suspicions weren't un founded. Hermione was at the shop daily, except for the weekends that Ron didn't work, and George had seen several awkward bruises on her body in strange places. Places that should have been hidden, but when a sleeve or collar slipped were visible. George was in agreement that Hermion should leave Ron, but Ron was his brother. Fred and George had a sibling code that they had to follow that said they couldn't do anything to encourage Hermione to leave her husband.

"I came home at lunch," A voice said pulling Hermione out of her book. She had done some more writing, some chores, and finally settled down with The Three Musketeers after lunch. She would have started dinner, but there was no food in the house. She would have gone shopping, but there was no money. The dark look in her husband's eye told her he wasn't happy about what he had discovered earlier that day. She jumped slightly and gulped as the redhead standing in the small entryway of her flat slammed the door. "Care to explain where you were?"

"I was with Fred," she answered. When his eyes flashed with annoyance, she looked down as though in apology. After four years of dealing with this behavior she knew how she was supposed to act, and act she did. No matter how many times he had taken her books to the side of her head, or his fist to any part of her body available, he had never been able to truly break her. Her body told him she was sorry for not being home when he had gotten there. Her heart warmed as it thought about the blue eyes that shined with an emotion she couldn't place when she had walked into that store earlier.

"And what, pray-tell, were you doing with my brother?" He growled as he walked up and took her book out of her hands. "You've read this before," he spat after looking at the cover, and tossed it to lay near the balcony door. It landed with it's pages sprawled out and it's binder laying open. She flinched at the mistreatment of such a precious book. He was right, she had read it before, it was one of her most favorite stories. That particular copy had been given to her as a Christmas present from Fred.

When he noticed that her eyes were still on the book and she had yet to answer his question, he drew his left arm across his body holding his fingers out straight and stiff. She turned her attention to him and tensed when she noticed his stance. She clenched her eyes tightly as he brought the back of his hand down across her face with as much force as he could muster. "Answer me bitch!" He ordered as her head twisted to her right from the force.

"I was just having lunch with him," She answered with a shuddered breath, "he's a friend."

Ron squatted down on his haunches so that he could look her in the eye. She refused to look back at him, so he gently cupped her chin and guided her face to look at him. He gave her a somber expression when she continued to shudder under his touch. They shared a look for a moment before he drew his lips back in a snarling smile that reminded her of Cujo before he leaned in close to her face. His voice dripped with malice as he said, "you're friend is dead." With that he walked into the bedroom they shared, and she scurried to pick up her tossed aside book.

A/N: So what do you guys think? I know where this story is going, I'm just not sure how to get there. The more reviews I get, the more plot bunnies I seem to find.