I Never Knew You
Summary:AU. Imagine a world where the brightest witch of her age isn't a witch, but a muggle. What if Hermione Granger never received a letter from Hogwarts, but her twin brother Henry did instead? What happens when her brother dies in the war against Voldemort, and Hermione tries to venture into the wizarding world to discover more about him through his best friends?
Author's Note: Thank you for those of you who read and reviewed the last chapter. I am sorry I did not send a sneak peek to those of you who reviewed. My first week back at work was more intense than I had anticipated and I spent every night doing stuff for my students. Therefore, I devoted my entire weekend to writing this chapter so I could get it to you this evening. I hope it does not disappoint.
Disclaimer: I do not, and will not claim to, own Harry Potter, its characters, places, or themes.
CHAPTER SIX
LATER that afternoon, I again found myself looking at the pictures along the staircase wall. After I had agreed to go into town with Ron after dinner, we had returned to the kitchen where Harry and Ginny were finishing the kitchen clean-up for Mrs. Weasley. At the persistence of her husband, she had gone upstairs to lay down for a bit. As it had been nearing one o'clock, and as Ron was "famished," as he had put it, Ginny had made some ham sandwiches and tea. We took up spot at the table in the same fashion as we had outside and the three of them began the tale of Henry's third year at Hogwarts.
They had told me that was the year life was supposed to get a little better for Harry. They had discovered Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and alleged traitor, was innocent after all. Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, was really an animagus—which I was having trouble wrapping my head around—and was the once trusted friend of Harry's parents, Peter Pettigrew. Additionally, I learned that Henry had not lost his love of knowledge the he had shared with me and in fact, had built upon it. Doing something I would have expected of myself and not him, Henry piled on every class available to his schedule. He was given something called a Time Turner—again, my head was spinning—and unbeknownst to his friends, was traveling back in time to do all of his classes. Because of this Time Turner, Henry played a big role in saving Sirius Black's life.
When Harry, Ron, and Ginny had finished depicting their story two hours later—this one, by far, was the most detailed and I felt I missed a lot of what they had said—Ginny headed upstairs to check on her mum. I was feeling a little overwhelmed myself, and had suggested that I wanted to go lay down before dinner. Harry and Ron exchanged worried glances they thought I had neglected to notice. I did not know what they thought I would do, but they allowed me to go. Which is how I found myself face to face with another picture.
This one was of only the Weasley family. I was not sure where they were, but it looked like they were on holiday. I found Ron almost immediately and noticed he was holding a rat securely in his hands. That must be Peter Pettigrew, I thought, and knew that this had to be taken before he was thirteen. Ginny looked incredibly pale and forlorn, so I guessed it had been taken after her terrifying first year at school. I found the twins again, grinning goofily. I smiled to myself, as their smiles were infectious, and instead of heading down the hallway to my room, I continued up to the second landing in search of more pictures.
I expected to find pictures from Ron and Ginny's later teenage years, as they seemed to be missing from the first wall, but I found more baby pictures. In most, it was hard to distinguish which Weasley child was which, sans Ginny and the twins. Their bright red hair and freckles were identical in every picture, and if the twins had been pictured separately, they would have blended in with the rest. Even Ginny, the only girl of the family, shared the same face as her brothers when she was an infant. Her dresses and hair bows were the only thing that set her apart.
I had not been on the second landing for very long when I thought I heard a voice. I turned towards the stairs, expecting to see Harry or Ron. Neither was there. I looked around the hallway, the hair standing up on the back of my neck when I heard it again. It was definitely a voice. Then, my eyes fell on the door to Fred and George's old room. It had been closed when Ginny had given me a tour of the house. Now, however, the door was cracked slightly, the sunlight spilling into the hallway. I hesitated for a moment—Harry and Ron were still downstairs. I was not sure where Mr. Weasley was, but the voice I heard was very unlike Mr. Weasley's. Taking a breath, I began to walk slowly and quietly to the door.
When I reached the door, I peered into the room and was surprised to see a red-headed man sitting on one of the beds, staring at the other. He had his head down and now that I was closer, I could hear his quiet sobs. George, I thought. "George, however, will probably never go in there again," Ginny had told me. At the time, I had wanted to tell her that she was wrong. I thought I would never go into Henry's room again, but it had proved to be very healing. George, too, must have found that same comfort in his old room, but had chosen not to share it with his family. I suddenly felt very intrusive, and I felt my cheeks warm with embarrassment. I began to turn to leave when I heard him.
"Fred," he was saying, "it is getting hard again. Every time I think I am getting on all right, I realize you really aren't coming back. This really isn't fair you know. I am not a big emotional git, yet here I am sitting in our room crying. Over you, of all people." He forced a laugh. "I'm sure you're up there, having a good laugh at my expense. You must think you're hysterical." I watched as his brought his hands to his head, sighing.
"I never really thought life would be this way," he continued. "I was so sure, after the bloody war, the shop would really take off. We would really be living it up then, wouldn't we, Fred? The money, the girls, the—no, those were the two most important—would have been flooding in. Time of our lives, we woulda had. 'Cept now, funnily enough, none of that matters anymore. Not the money, not the parties, nothing.
"Ron, poor Ron has tried so hard. I want to tell him to sod off, but really, I don't know what I would do without that annoying bugger. Dunno why you had to go on and include him. Thank you, though, for that. Shop would be in ruins if our little brother hadn't taken over. Guess you knew that though. Knew I—we—needed him. He's not so annoying anymore. Don't tell him I said it, but I quite respect him." George's shoulders relaxed, as if a huge weight had been lifted, as if he had never acknowledged these thoughts before.
I knew I should not be listening into this private moment George was having. If anyone had witnessed me reading through Henry's letters, randomly talking to him as I commented on different things, I would have felt violated. It was not acceptable for me to impose my presence on someone else. As I turned to leave the floorboards creaked underneath my weight and I stopped quickly, hoping George had not heard me.
"Hello?"
I swallowed. Maybe he had not seen me and I could run quickly, avoiding what would be a very awkward meeting. I took too long to decide however, as I heard the hinges on the door squeak as George opened the door wider. I turned sheepishly, not meeting his eyes.
"Who are you?" George asked. He sounded hurt and angry.
"Hermione," I whispered. "Hermione Granger."
"Granger?" I took a chance and looked at him, finding a quizzical frown on his lips. "Oh. Oh, right. You're Henry's twin." I nodded. We stood in silence, something I was becoming accustomed to since I had contacted Harry. Finally, I addressed him.
"I understand how you feel," I told him. I stared at him, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. When he finally did, I could see the tears filling them. I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to extend comfort I had always yearned for but never admitted I needed. A tear went down his cheek and as he allowed himself to cry in front of me, I lead him back into the room. We both sat down and I did the one thing I knew, the thing I had only just learned. I had not realized how much I needed someone to just hold me while I mourned until Ron had given me that security this morning. Wordlessly, I allowed George to fall into my arms, his head resting on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he sobbed into my shirt. We had never met before and knew nothing of each other, but in that moment, we understood each other's pain better than anyone else ever could.
I never returned to my room for a nap. George and I stayed together in his room. I told him about Henry, the brother I had known before he left for Hogwarts. I told him that I felt like I part of me had died when Henry had left for school, and that an even larger part was gone when he died. I told him my biggest fear was never being myself again, because I did not know myself without Henry. In turn, he told me about Fred. He shared a childhood full of pranks, laughter, and constantly being in trouble with their mum. They had dreamed of having their own joke shop since they were six years old. This desire had inspired all of their greatest products. George said their proudest moment was when they left Hogwarts (not without a bang, of course) and opened up their first shop. He told me with Fred gone, he had not developed a new product and although the shop was still surviving with Ron's help, he knew the public wanted new jokes, new pranks. Like me, he did not feel like himself without his other half.
"Thank you," he whispered, as the sun began to set outside his window.
"For what?" I asked.
He thought for a moment. "I—I am not really sure. I've tried talking to Ron, to my brother Charlie. Ginny has searched me out countless times, and I know she even convinced Harry to try. I know that they are hurting too. He was—is their brother too. But—" He stopped.
"It's different," I supplied quietly.
He gave me a weak smile. "Yeah."
"Thank you for talking to me," I said. I was glad I was able to help him. He had helped me too, though. It was comforting talking to another person that was experiencing the same feelings I was. He was right. Although his other siblings had lost their brother, and naturally, the bond between siblings is strong, but the bond between twins is even stronger. The hole left in our hearts was identical and George and I shared something he unfortunately could not share with his other siblings. "I know it is not hard to let others in," I added, sincerely grateful that for whatever reason he had trusted me.
"You know, I come in here a lot," George revealed. I looked at him and nodded.
"Ginny doesn't think you ever will."
"I know. None of them do. None of them will come in here either. When I first started coming in here, it was hard. I would just sit on my bed and stare at the walls in silence. I felt really stupid, too. I'm sure Fred is laughing at me wherever he is. We were never very sentimental, you see. Always the jokesters, never the emotional types. Mum has always been emotional enough for all of us."
I smiled. "How long did it take you? To come in here?"
"A while. A couple of months."
"Wow."
"What?" George asked.
"That's amazing. It took me almost a year."
We feel into silence again, both of us sitting side by side, looking out of the window. I was not exactly sure how to end our time together. And I was not exactly sure I wanted someone to catch us either. I was not ashamed of our conversation, and I knew George was not either. But, he had opened up to me in a way he had not with his family. I did not want one of the Weasleys to become upset with me for any reason and I certainly did not want to hurt their feelings because George had confided in me.
Just as I was about to say something to George about maybe heading downstairs, we heard Ron and Harry's voice coming from the stairs. George put a finger up to his lips. The bedroom door was still opened slightly, and I knew they would not be able to see the cracked door from the landing. But, if we made noise they were sure to discover us.
"I—I uh, asked Hermione out for a drink tonight," Ron was saying. There was no audible response from Harry, but Ron's voice continued to carry. "It's funny, she's a lot like Henry, but I like her more." Two sets of laughter reached our ears and I felt the blush in my cheeks. George gave me a goofy grin.
When we did not hear their voices or steps anymore, George said, "Ron, eh?" I nodded, sheepishly. "He's a good kid, he is. He can be a bit awkward though, so don't be too hard on him if he says something stupid." He laughed then, but it was not a forced laugh like the ones before when he was recalling memories of Fred. It was deep, genuine, and it reached his eyes. I smiled in response, my cheeks still burning.
After hearing Ron and Harry on the stairs, I had ventured back to my room first, to freshen up for dinner. I desperately wanted to change into something nicer, especially since I had a date afterwards. I had never actually been on a date before. I had only had one boyfriend, my last year of school. We had only been seeing each other for a couple of months when I found out about Henry. Our time together was spent mostly at school, during our lunch, and weekend outings to the movies or shops with our friends. We had hardly been alone together, and when we had, it was spent stealing awkward kisses. We had never really discussed the idea of a date alone, and I did not attempt to keep the relationship going after Henry died. I could not explain to him my pain, and it was easier to push him away and out of my life than attempt to make something work that was not there in the first place.
I stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of Bill's door, studying my appearance. The jeans I had put on that morning looked older than I had remembered. They were faded and frayed at the bottoms, and I had not noticed there was a small rip in the fabric on my right knee. My blue shirt was nothing spectacular. It was definitely "out of style," as I had purchased it several summers ago. Although Ron was nothing like the boys at home, and something told me he would not notice either way, I still wanted to look nice—at least nicer than I did now.
Settling on the fact that I had nothing better, I ran my hair brush through my hair a few more times. As the day had worn on it had become unmanageable. As I worked through the tangles I contemplated telling Ron I could not go. I could tell him I was not feeling well or something. But, then I remembered what I had overhead him telling Harry. He liked me. I was broken and incomplete, an emotional wreck. Yet, he liked me. He liked me enough to ask me out on a date and I could not back out just because I was downing myself. I sighed and decided I was not going to start worrying about my looks now. Throwing the hair brush on top of my bag, I headed down to the kitchen for dinner.
When I stepped off of the stairs, I was shocked to see George sitting at the table. I had assumed that because of his quiet entrance, he would have left unnoticed as well. Ron was seated next to his brother, with Harry across from them.
"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as soon as she spotted me. "I was just about to send Ginny up to get you. Did you have a nice nap?"
"Nap?" I asked, momentarily confused. I composed myself quickly however, when my eyes met George's and I remembered that while I was talking to him the rest of the family thought I was laying down. "Oh, yes. Just the refresher I needed."
"Very understandable," Mr. Weasley replied as he entered the room. "Information overload." I nodded.
"Hermione, this is George," Mrs. Weasley introduced, gesturing to him. George stood and extended his hand across the table. I took it, shaking his hand as my eyes found his again. They conveyed a message of thanks. He thought as I did. It was better if we kept our first meeting a secret.
"Very nice to meet you, Hermione," he said politely.
"Likewise," I said, giving him a smile to let him know he was very welcome.
"All right," Mrs. Weasley said, sitting down opposite her husband. "Dinner is served."
Dinner conversation was kept light considering the conversation we had this morning. Mr. Weasley asked me about several different objects, much to the chagrin of his children. Mrs. Weasley tried to steer the conversation away from her husband's "fascination with all things muggle" and asked me about my school and what I had been doing since.
"Well, actually," I admitted sadly, "I haven't really done much of anything. I've been waitressing to pass the time, but I haven't felt like doing anything with a purpose since Henry—" I stopped, not really wanting to continue. Luckily, Ginny sensed my discomfort immediately and changed the topic.
I found out that she had a desire to be a Quidditch player, despite her mother's protests. Mr. Weasley seemed very proud of his daughter's decision to follow her passion, and while I could see Mrs. Weasley tried to express this same emotion, she brought up Ginny's other interests—"I thought you always dreamed of being a Healer?"—several times throughout the conversation. Harry and Ron were both recruited into the Auror program after they had defeated Voldemort. I learned the Aurors were kind of like soldiers, and it could be quite dangerous. The training was very extensive and involved, but they both only had three months left until completion. In the meantime, they were both—Ron more than Harry—working in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop, part time.
George hardly spoke, and I could immediately understand why his family was so worried about him. He was still very much broken, but even though they did not know it, he was doing everything he could to heal as well.
When dinner was finished, Mrs. Weasley suggested we all go out into the garden. "Actually, Mum," Ron started in a whisper. "Hermione and I were going to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer." I chanced a look at him and saw his cheeks turning pink.
Mrs. Weasley looked at Ron, then to me, and back to Ron again. "Oh." She did not seem to know how to react. "Well, that is lovely, dear." She smiled at Ron and then at me. Her eyes were wide with happiness and I felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. "You two have a very nice time."
I nodded and as we all begin to stand, Ginny grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the stairs. I saw Ron looking panicked for a moment and he begin to call out, but Harry put his hand on his shoulder. I was extremely nervous for what was about to happen. When we reached her room Ginny exclaimed, "I knew you were smart, Hermione, but jeez, are you crazy too?"
"Excuse me?" I asked, giving her a questioning glare.
"Going out with Ron." She laughed. "I'm sorry. I am just shocked he asked you is all. Actually, I am slightly more shocked you agreed."
I blushed. Why had I agreed? I did not know him, and certainly did not have experience with dating, but I had been quick to accept Ron's invitation.
"I like him," I admitted simply after a minute. With this admission, I knew it was true. Ron was like no one I had ever met in my life. He was normal in my world of strange. He was not hot or sexy or any of the other adjectives girls my age used to describe men. However, this was not to say he was not good looking. He was very attractive in his own right. He was not necessarily the first pick of others, but his freckles appealed to me and I had never realized how good looking men with red hair were.
Ginny laughed again, but it was not cruel or condescending. Then she joked, "Well I am glad somebody does! Having him tag along with Harry and I has gotten kind of old." As she finished her thought, she began digging through her closet.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Well, you're not planning on wearing that are you?"
I looked down at my outfit again, remembering my previous debate with myself. "I—I thought it was okay. We're only going to a pub, aren't we?"
"Well, yes, but—" She stopped, pulling a pair of dark wash jeans from her closet and tossing them to me. "Just want to fancy it up a bit." I did not move, holding the jeans in my hand and looking at her in disbelief. "Go on," she pushed. "Put them on."
All ready knowing that Ginny was not someone I should ever pick an argument with, I silently began to change.
"Much better," she complimented, and handed me a shirt. It was a long black and white stripped top with a scoop neck. It was simple, yet it was much classier than my blue one.
"You're a little more—endowed than me, but it should still fit perfectly. If not, I know a spell that will alter it for you." I pulled my shirt off and pulled Ginny's over my head. It was a bit snug over my breasts, and I started to protest but she looked at me and smiled. "You look great!" She turned me around to face her vanity.
I had to admit, the simple clothes change did matter. At first, I thought I would not like Ginny's selection. But, I was surprised at how well the clothes did fit and while they did hug the few curves I did have, it was not distasteful.
"Now, to do something about your hair."
"What's wrong with—" I started to ask, but she was right. My hair was extremely frizzy and if I had been able to fix it myself, I would have.
"Hold still," she instructed. "This won't hurt a bit."
She pulled out her wand and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. What was she going to do? I heard her mutter something under her breath and a moment later, my hair, although still bushy with curls, was slightly more tamed. The frizz had not entirely ceased, but it was a vast improvement. My hair was no longer trying to swallow my head.
"The spell isn't perfect—we have potions that would work much better, but we do not have time for those. Anyways, I wasn't trying to offend you or anything, but it needed something."
"No," I said, "thank you. I really appreciate this."
"It's not a problem," she said, motioning leading me to the door. "Now, go. Have a good time."
She opened the door for me and followed me as I reentered the kitchen. Ron and Harry had not left, instead choosing to sit back down and wait. When they heard us coming down the stairs, Ron had stood and his eyes immediately fell on me.
"Wow," he muttered. "Hermione, you look—beautiful." Our blushes were identical as he held out his hand. I walked to him and placed my own into his. "Well, we'll be off," he said to Harry and Ginny, waving awkwardly. He led me out into the garden.
"I thought we could apparate to the Three Broomsticks," he said. I looked at him quizzically. "Basically, you're here one minute, and there the next." I still did not fully understand. "It's a bit uncomfortable and in fact, you might not want to…" he trailed off. "What was I thinking? Should have considered what you would be most comfortable with. Merlin, I've already managed to muck things up." I put my free hand on his arm, trying to stop his rambling.
"It's okay, really. I don't mind. I trust you." I gave him a sly smile and it seemed to relax him a bit.
"Yeah, yeah, okay." He began to compose his nerves. "We have to walk out a little bit. Even though Voldemort is gone, we still have protective wards around the house." I nodded, trying to pretend I knew exactly what he was talking about.
As we strolled out of the garden, hand in hand, I realized how good I felt. It was nice, being with Ron. I was not sure what the night would hold for us, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. In that moment, I felt as if I had a chance at becoming whole once more.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed. Trying to keep the characters canon has been kind of difficult since this is AU, but I am doing my best. I will not be going into major details about the rest of their Hogwarts years, as I assume we have all read the books and know what happened. Basically, Henry did everything Hermione did. Anything that has to be majorly changed will be outlined, but I do not think anything really does. And if any of the recollections seem choppy, it's because it's been years since I have read the series (unfortunately) and I do not remember every detail. Besides, it is a lot to learn, so obviously, Hermione will not remember everything they tell her.
Please review! I hope I can get an update out every weekend, but I promise I will never go more than two weeks without updating. However, you can always check out my profile page for updates if things are delayed.
