Spells fly from all directions; I'm beginning to lose track of who's on what side. Bill and I manage to take down Fenrir Greyback, one of the most dangerous Death Eaters. As he falls, I see Hermione and Neville to my right fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's closest follower. Their spells hit her chest simultaneously and she crumples amid screams from spectators. Voldemort screams too, and points his wand directly at Hermione. There's no Shield Charm this time, just a jet of bright green lightning hitting Hermione and throwing her backwards.

"Noooo!" I yell as I watch her hit the ground, lifeless.

"Fred, wake up!"

I shoot up in bed, almost taking half of George's face off in the process. My heart is pounding. I can't catch my breath either.

"Are you okay?" he says, concerned. "You were yelling."

I force myself to take deep breaths to calm down, the images finally falling away. "Sorry. I had a nightmare. I haven't had one of those since the war."

"Hermione dying or me dying?"

"Hermione." And I tell him about our conversation.

"You need to stop doing that."

"It wasn't on purpose. It just slipped out!"

He looks skyward. "One day Hermione will make the decision to be with the man who will treat her like a human being. But it's not going to be anytime soon, if Ron has anything to say about it."

His words are on my mind as we open the shop. It's Saturday, so we'll have tons of customers from Hogwarts. I doubt we'll see Hermione, though, because she's been spending all her weekends doing homework. I'm not expecting to see Ron, though.

"What are you doing here?" I demand. "Aren't you supposed to be at Auror training?"

"Shacklebolt cut people today. Anyone he didn't think had the skill to be an Auror." His voice is bitter. "He looked past that when I applied, but he won't now."

"So now what?" George asks, looking as shocked as I am to see him.

He shrugs. "Guess I'll ask Dad to get me a job at the Ministry."

"Does Hermione know?" I ask.

"No! And don't you go telling her either! I don't need a lecture on living up to potential and all that rubbish."

"She's going to find out."

"Well she can find out at Christmas." He walks out of the store in a huff and stops suddenly. A blonde girl is sitting on the bench across from the shop and he goes over and talks to her. George's eyes widen as he goes over to the window. "No..."

"Is it..." I don't even want to say it.

He nods grimly. "Lavender Brown."

I groan. I knew it.

"You know we can't tell Hermione about this, right?"

"Why not?"

He points out the window, at their retreating figures. "They're not holding hands, not kissing, and-"

"That we know of," I mutter.

"-we don't know that anything wrong is happening."

"Yes we do."

He sighs. "We don't have proof, though."

"He's going to hurt her again. Do you want to see her cry?"

He sighs again. "At Hogwarts I could always tell when she and Ron had a fight because he was the only person who ever made her cry. I wish she would have punched him in the face the way she did with Malfoy."

He's coming around to my point-of-view. "So we can tell her."

"No! Unfortunately, this is something she's going to have to figure out on her own."

Now I sigh. "When did you get so smart about relationships?"

He smiles. "When I started dating Angelina."

I go over to the window, but Ron and Lavender are nowhere to be seen. George puts his hand on my shoulder. "Come on. We've got customers to serve."

I can't wait until Christmas.


"I'm so glad to see you!" Mum says when I arrive, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"You just saw me two weeks ago," I point out, remembering the last time I came to dinner.

Ginny leans over when Mum's out of earshot. "She's a little tipsy, I think."

"Ginny!" Hermione says, coming up behind her. She smiles at me. "Your mum's just happy because everyone's here. Even Charlie came from Romania."

"Really?" George says from behind me. "Wicked!"

Mum won't allow anyone besides Hermione in the kitchen; I have a feeling she's trying to be a surrogate mother for her right now. I hadn't even thought about the fact that this is Hermione's first major holiday without her parents. She seems to be in good spirits, though. We decide to stay out of Mum's hair until dinner, choosing to go outside and play Qudditch. Charlie, George, Ginny, and me versus Harry, Ron, Bill, and Angelina. Fleur, Penelope, and Percy watch and offer encouragement. Percy and Penelope eventually spend more time holding hands and making love eyes at each other than watching, though. I can't believe they got married. Percy, married. Who would have thought?

My team ends up winning, which puts Ron in a foul mood. Hermione, who had proudly helped Mum serve dinner, looks crestfallen as he makes a nasty comment about what is clearly a new jumper. It's pretty too, light grey with buttons and a hood. She looks pretty; she has her curly hair pulled into a ponytail and she looks young and vibrant. Her good mood returns, though, when everyone compliments her Muggle chocolate cake. She says there are bits of chocolate called chocolate chips in there to make it richer. It's incredible.

We exchange gifts after dinner and, of course, everyone gets a Weasley jumper. Mum demands that we all put them on so she can take a family portrait, one she even includes Fleur, Angelina, and Penelope in. For once, she didn't stitch our first initials on George's and my jumpers. And I note with glee that Ron's is once again maroon.

Ron slips out when everyone leaves, but I think I'm the only one who notices. Hermione, Bill, and Charlie are in what looks like a serious conversation by the door, but I respect them enough not to eavesdrop. I guess I am growing up. Angelina tilts her head close to mine before she and George go back to her flat. "Take care of Hermione. I have a feeling she's going to need it."

Charlie claps me on my back before I can ask what she means. "That's a bright witch over there," he says, nodding toward Hermione, who's talking to Dad. "I hope she realizes that no matter what career path she takes, she's going to be successful."

"I don't think she hears that much," I reply without thinking.

He smiles grimly. "Well, Ron always did have a knack for not appreciating the good things in his life."

It isn't until everyone's left that I realize I haven't given Hermione her gift yet. She had given George and me our favorite sweets and an amazing book of our inventory: descriptions of every product in the shop and the steps to create them as well as the current tallies we have in stock. It must have taken forever and I'm eternally grateful.

Mum and Dad are cuddling in the main room and Harry and Ginny go off to her bedroom, so Hermione and I sit out in the garden. It's snowing and cold, but she doesn't seem to mind. So I hand her a box. "I know your necklace is turquoise, but I couldn't resist when I saw this."

She pulls out a gold butterfly clip encrusted with rubies and gasps. "Fred, this is gorgeous!"

"I figured Godric Gryffindor would approve. House colors and all that."

"Thank you. Really."

I think back to dinner and add, "And I thought that jumper you had on earlier was really nice."

She closes the box, tucking it in her jacket pocket, suddenly closed off. "That's just Ron being Ron."

For some reason, that statement pisses me off. "Why do you put up with him?"

She shrugs and says almost to herself, "It's not like anyone else wants me."

My anger starts boiling over, but Ron appears before I can say anything. He's completely disheveled and I have a feeling I know where he was. Hermione just looks at him, her face completely impassive. "How long have you been shacking up with Lavender?"

His face turns as red as his hair and I can't believe she just asked him point blank like that. "Since before I left for training."

Months then. I could punch him in his face. But Hermione's calm manner stops me. "So we're through then?"

Ron looks confused and I don't blame him. I would have expected her to be yelling and screaming. "Yes."

She stands up. "All right then," she says in a strange tone. "Good night, Ron. Good night, Fred."

I watch her go, mulling her words over in my mind, trying to put an emotion to the tone. Then it hits me: defeat. I've never heard Hermione sound so defeated in all the years I've known her. It scares me.


I go back to the Burrow the following morning to continue a tradition Hermione and I had started many Christmas holiday breaks ago: playing in the snow. It didn't snow every year, but we enjoyed every second of it when it did.

"You just missed her," Mum says when I step into the kitchen. "She went back to Hogwarts early to help Professor McGonagall with something."

"She's gone?" My voice is higher than I intended.

She purses her lips. "I understand Ron has been unfaithful to her."

Before I can ask how she knows, she speaks. "Ron has been away from home almost nonstop since he got kicked out of Auror training. When he comes home, his clothes are rumpled and out of place. I know Hermione doesn't leave Hogwarts during busy times of the term, so I put the pieces together." She lowers her voice. "Honestly I'm a bit glad. I love Ron, but I love Hermione too. And I hate the way he treated her."

So she had noticed too. I don't know what to say, so I just nod wordlessly. Harry's gone too, back to training, so Ginny's moping about a bit as well. The whole mood is gloomy. I say good-bye and head back to the shop. I don't feel like playing in the snow anymore.

I make some hot chocolate, Hermione's favorite, and sit in our dilapidated, but comfortable, armchair. In a way, Hermione and my friendship had been marked by Christmases. We had always spent them together because Mum didn't want her and Harry to be stuck at Hogwarts. At first, I felt bad for her because everyone paid most of their attention to Harry and ignored her. But she struck up a friendship with Ginny and even got along with Percy, which is a miracle. They're both really smart, top-of-their-class, though Hermione is smarter, so I guess that's why. They understood each other.

I still remember the Christmas I realized I had feelings for her. It had been after Angelina chose George over me and I had honestly thought I only liked her because I was lonely. I had chastised myself for being stupid; I had Katie Bell so I wasn't lonely. Then Hermione laughed at a joke I made and gave me one of her real smiles and I had butterflies instantly. We talked and joked throughout dinner and I realized there was another side to her besides this brilliant bookworm.

If I had told her back then that I liked her, would she have liked me too? I think over that question as I sip my drink. If she had, she certainly never would have been with Ron. I think.

An owl taps his beak against my window and I jump, almost dropping my cup. It's a Hogwarts owl, so I open the parchment hurriedly.

Fred,

If it does not inconvenience you, I think you should come to Hogwarts immediately. I'm aware of what happened yesterday and I'm doing the best I can, but I would rather Hermione not be alone tonight.

-Minerva McGonagall

Something happened. Something's seriously wrong. I Apparate so quickly I'm worried I might splinch myself. McGonagall meets me at the gates. "Thank you so much for coming."

"Is she okay?" I ask.

"Honestly, Fred, I'm not sure. She explained her reasons for wanting to come back in a letter last night and I've given her plenty of work to help me with today, but she's barely spoken a word. I-I don't like it."

It's weird hearing McGonagall call me "Fred" rather than "Mr. Weasley." "And you think I can help her?"

We enter the castle and head towards the library. "Yes. I remember how close you and she were and how much energy you expended trying to help her. Truthfully, I was very surprised at the time. I didn't see you as the caring type."

In spite of everything, I smile. "I couldn't let it ruin my reputation."

She smiles too. "I'll leave you here. I suppose you know her hiding spots?"

I nod and she wishes me luck. Madam Pince isn't here, so if we need to stay here all night we won't be bothered. If that had been any other context besides this one, I would have cracked a sexual joke.

I walk towards the back corner where Hermione used to do most of her work. It has a couple of chairs and a window and is mostly hidden by the shelves. That's when I hear it. A wet, choking sob. My heart drops. I'm all too familiar with that sound. I find Hermione bent over in her chair, arms clamped firmly around her middle, sobbing into her lap.

I'm by her side in seconds, laying a hand on her shoulder, letting her know I'm here. She sits up suddenly, anger sparking in her eyes, and I half expect to be hit. But she doesn't. She wraps her arms around my neck and continues crying. I respond by holding her as tightly as I can.

I'm not sure how long she cries. Sometimes she'll start to pull herself together, then murmur "What did I do wrong?" or "What's wrong with me?" and start again. I want to tell her nothing is wrong with her, but I don't think it will help. I have a strong suspicion that she's been bottling up feelings for a while and this just caused the dam to burst.

When she pulls away, her eyes are so swollen I don't know how she can see. I hand her a clean handkerchief to blow her nose, making the executive decision not to talk unless she speaks first. I'm not sure how welcome I am right now, even if she did just cry on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry" are the first words out of her mouth.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I reply.

"I didn't want to cry in front of Ron last night. I knew if I yelled at him, I would start crying, and I wasn't going to let him win."

That explains it. "I think you confused him more than anything."

She nods. "Good. That works."

We sit in silence for a while watching the snow fall outside the window. She leans into me and I wrap an arm around her shoulders. There's a question weighing on my mind, so I ask it. "Did you know?"

"Know what?" she replies. "About Ron and Lavender? I had a feeling."

She sounds sleepy, but I need to feed my curiosity. "Then why didn't you end things?"

"I was hoping it wouldn't be true." Her voice is almost a whisper. "Besides, it's not like anyone else wants me."

She's said that twice in two days and I've been angry both times. "How can you say that?" I finally ask.

But I'm answered with silence. I hear gentle breathing, so I guess she fell asleep. I rest my head against the top of hers, staring at the snow. I don't understand how she can believe such a lie.