A/N: To quickly address a question that I have been getting fairly frequently: This is not a Fremione fic in which Fremione is super frequently addressed. Fred will not be coming back in the form of a ghost. I don't believe that that's what he would have wanted, and I also think that it would absolutely destroy George if that were to happen. Fremione will be featured in Hermione's flashbacks, and, if you've been paying attention, those won't happen every chapter. They will be coming more frequently now, as they are in the castle, where she interacted most frequently with Fred, however, I feel as if it is incredibly depressing to read about Hermione's flashbacks and emotions with Fred in every weekly update. If it's not depressing for you to read, it's INSANELY draining for me to write, to make everything just right for these characters. If you have any other questions/concerns/disappointments please contact me, however, please be polite about it. If you don't like something that's happening, you're more than welcome to share your discontent, but more than likely, it's not going to change anything. Most of you have seemed incredibly intrigued or excited about this story, and I appreciate every positive review I've received!
When we rejoined for dinner in the Great Hall, I was near tears. The library was in ruins, half of the most beautiful, rarest books were burnt beyond repair, I'd been hit by at least 6 different memories that brought me to the shakes, and we hadn't even gotten to the common rooms yet. Looking around our ragtag group, it appeared as if most of the others had had about the same experience.
"Everyone?" McGonagall's voice, which was so direct and demanding this morning, was now soft, comforting, questioning, but nonetheless attention demanding. "Because I feel as though you've all had a very rough day, I've arranged for us to have dinner at The Three Broomsticks with Madam Rosmerta. If you'll all collect your belongings and follow me." Everyone had set their various bags down in a pile and it took a while to make sure everyone got what belonged to them. It wasn't until I'd gathered my things that I realized George hadn't moved. I'd been working with him all day, and he'd been relatively okay, as he and Fred, admittedly, had not spent much time in the library. Something told me I wouldn't be able to handle him right now, though.
"Er, Charlie?" I tugged on the eldest Weasley's shirt sleeve, feeling much more like a little girl than I should have. He turned and smiled down at me. "I think that George is in need of some help." Charlie glanced over at George, a look of panic and concern crossing his face as soon as he saw him.
"Tell McGonagall that George and I will be down in a little bit. I think the idea of Hogsmeade is a little daunting to George right now." I nodded and did as I was told.
It was a solid hour before George and Charlie joined us at The Three Broomsticks. By that point, most everyone had finished their meal and was working on heading off to our make shift dormitory in the housing district of Hogsmeade, or, in Bill and Percy's case, heading off to their respective homes. George looked better, but only slightly. I didn't even want to think of what memory had hit him in that moment I'd seen him. Compared to what my mind could do to my body when I thought of Fred, George's could only be millions of times worse.
"Glad that you gentleman could join us." Slughorn said, slurring slightly. Percy scooted over on the booth to make room for Charlie, and George plopped into the open seat next to me. Ron leaned over Percy to whisper something to Charlie, who nodded.
"Please, everyone, I know that it's been a long day for all, don't stay on our account. We'll just eat something quick and George will join you later." Charlie, who, like his brothers, had opted to stay in his own home, announced to the table.
"That is very kind of you, Mr. Weasley. I would feel more comfortable, however, if someone were to stay behind with you, since George does not yet know the directions to the house, and I am still cautious of individuals wandering around by themselves after dark." Half of the members of the table, including all of the Weasley's, were in the process of leaving. "Actually, sit for a moment everyone." Everyone hastily sat, resulting in Luna sitting on Neville's lap, and Oliver toppling his chair over. "The individuals in Hogsmeade, as well as everyone who will be coming in to help in the construction process, have been incredibly accommodating to us, and I implore of you all to be on your best behavior. You are all overage, so I have no problem with using magic around the house to do your daily chores and such. However, if I hear of any dueling, cursing, poisoning, etcetera, I will immediately have you moved to sleeping on the cold, hard floor of the entrance hall. Are we understood?" Everyone nodded gravely, and the table made to stand again. "I am not yet done." The hasty seating process repeated. "There are some other ground rules. You will not go out after dark without someone else. If you do go out, you must tell someone else in the house where you are going and how long you expect to be gone. Do not roll your eyes that way, Mr. Wood." Oliver had the good sense to blush. "I understand that most of you have been living on your own for some time now and have had no one to report to. However, if, unlike Bill, Charlie, and Percy, you opted to live in the accommodated housing, you will follow my rules. There are still some- shady, for lack of a better term- individuals out there and you are under my watch, making your safety my responsibility. I have seen too many horrors this past year, and one of your disappearances will not be added to it. Are we clear?" Everyone nodded, avoiding the imposing professor's eyes. "Thank you. Excessive drinking will not be tolerated. I understand that some of you might feel as though you need a pick me up after the days we have had, however, if I hear that Rosmerta has had to forcibly remove you from her inn, or that you all have been disrupt-fully noisy in your home, then again, those in infraction will sleep on the floor of the entrance hall." She paused, looking around at all of us. "Now, I have noticed that Hermione and Harry were the only ones who waited for George when I asked someone to stay behind. Therefore, they will stay. Everyone else may go. I will see you all bright and early at seven sharp tomorrow morning." The table stood, with the exception of myself, George, and Harry, mumbling their goodnights and good morrows. McGonagall then turned to the congregated professors. "I will see you all in the morning as well. I am going to stay behind with the students. As it turns out, I have a few words for these individuals."
Rosmerta came over with a fresh plate of sandwiches and a butterbeer for George. He dove in ravenously, barely pausing for breath before starting into another sandwich. McGonagall waited until he finished before speaking again.
"You three, in particular, have faced tragedies unfairly thrust upon you. I have watched you closely all day, and have been incredibly impressed with your strength and poise in facing this building which ripped so much away from you." She must have noticed the quizzical look on my face, because she paused. "Hermione, is there a problem, dear?"
"Well, no, madam, it's just..." I trailed off, thinking as to how to most politely state my confusion. "It's just, I don't feel as though I've faced half of what Harry, or George have faced, and yet, you chose to speak to me about this as well, instead of any of the other Weasleys."
"That is because I did not feel as though your loss came in such a physical sense. I believe that you, especially, will be affected by what we lost in Hogwarts- the rich artifacts of history that were destroyed and cannot be brought back. And I chose to not speak with the other Weasley children because I feel as though the three of you have felt an equal loss. While Harry and George both lost parts of themselves in people, you, my dear, have lost a part of yourself in the rarities of the castle. In addition, I felt that George has dealt with a loss far greater than the rest of the Weasley children will ever be able to comprehend." I dropped my head, feeling slightly shameful. McGonagall was correct in that the loss of the history of Hogwarts had affected me rather strongly. But for my loss of the castle to be compared to George's loss, or Harry's loss and guilt; it felt ridiculous. McGonagall continued her original speech, however, apparently not noticing my discomfort. "I would just like to extend to you the fact that my door is always open should you need to talk. And I would like you to think of the individuals working with you on this project as a support group. We are all going to be hit with awful memories, and wonderful memories, but they will likely affect you in the same way. You all need to trust each other so that you can support each other through this time." She looked around the table, and I noticed the tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath and pushed away from the table. "And with that, I am going to bid my goodbyes. I trust you all to go directly to the house, no taking trips through Hogsmeade. I assure you, it will do you no good to look around right now. Good night." She didn't even wait for our mumbles, instead sweeping out of the inn.
"Shall we get going, then?" Harry managed a grim sort of smile, but it was enough. We all stood, and followed Harry out.
