A/N: Thanks for the reviews and votes! Enjoy!
"Hello, love," he whispers in a foreboding way that makes her shiver apprehensively.
What is he going to do to me? She wonders as his clawed left hand digs into her shoulder.
"What do you want with me?" She tries to sound brave, but she knows he hears the slight quaver in her voice because he chuckles darkly.
If only I could get my wand. She glances at his pocket, where she sees her wand sticking out. She doesn't dare make a rash move, though, with his wand in her face.
"What do I want with you? Hum...so many choices," he whispers as he firmly grabs her soft chin between his dirty fingers and forces her to look into his watery, blue eyes.
He pauses and then continues. "Do you know what you and your little friends have cost us, hm? Do you know how I've suffered after you and Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord? Ah, scared you, have I?"
"W-why me? Why not Harry or Ron?"
She flinches and turns her head as his yellow, chipped fingernail grazes down her cheek. "Them? Those insolent boys were nothing without you. We had thought about going after them alone at first, you see, but the Daily Prophet put out such a nice little article after the war about you, dear girl, being the brains of the operation. So, we decided to go after you, because we know Harry will come looking for his precious little friend, and when he does... the Dark Lord will be so pleased to know that I killed Harry Potter and his mudblood helper..."
He trails off, his eyes becoming unfocused as he dreams of the rewards in store for him.
She uses his distraction to struggle against the ropes binding her hands together, but stops when he focuses on her again, his eyes blinking almost too often.
"He's not coming back," she says.
"What?"
"You-Know-Who. He's dead. Harry killed him for sure. You should know that!"
He growls and the sound of his palm slapping her face echoes down the dark alleyway. Her face stings and she blinks back tears, refusing to provide him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"LIAR! Those are lies...lies..." A manic gleam enters his eye and Hermione fleetingly wonders if he's mentally ill.
He looks off to the side for a moment, as a dump truck rumbles noisily past, and she subtly struggles against the rope binding her hands again.
She feels the ropes chafing into her wrists, but, with a grimace, manages to somehow slide one hand out. Now if only she can get to her wand...
He turns back to her and laughs gleefully as his left arm feels her wiggling back and forth. "It's no use, Ms. Granger. You won't be able to escape."
"I heard you say, 'we'. Where are the others?" She needs to distract him with conversation somehow.
"Others? They are...busy at the moment," he grins crazily and she shudders, wondering what the other death eaters are up to. Images of the last time she saw them, sending unforgiveable curses at innocent students during the final battle, flit through her mind like a sped-up movie.
She realizes he's still talking in his raspy voice, "They gave me this important task. They trust me, you see. Someone had to step up after Bellatrix died. You remember her, I'm sure?"
She represses the alarm that suddenly washes over her like a flood, but he notices her frightened expression and throws back his head, laughing hysterically again. She uses that moment to subtly inch her arm out from behind her, praying he won't notice.
"Would you like a repeat performance, poppet? Would you like to remember what it feels like to be tortured?"
"No. No, please," she whispers, shutting her eyes in absolute terror as flashbacks hover on the edge of her mind, threatening to consume her as they so often have in the past.
She feels his breath, hot and foul on her face, and cringes, waiting for his sandpaper voice to whisper those dreaded words: crucio. Instead, he continues to ramble narcissistically informing her of his plan.
"Now, all I have to do is keep you here for a while and tell Harry to come and get you. Oh, yes, he'll come. Just like he came to the Dark Lord. By then, the other death eaters will have arrived, and we'll murder you both, pet, just like that." He snaps his fingers to indicate how quick it will be.
"No!" She glances at his pocket, knowing that her movements will have to be quick and precise. Tension winds inside her like a spring because she knows she only has one shot at this...
"Oh, yes. We will. You can be sure of that. In fact-"
"I SAID NO!" Hermione's shouted phrase catches him off guard, as she had intended, and she stomps on his foot hard, using the opportunity of his confusion to reach forward and grab her wand from his pocket.
He howls in pain and reaches for it but she quickly moves a step from the wall and turns on the spot, disapparating.
She hears him scream in frustration and disbelief, his disgusting fingers barely grazing her arm as she disappears.
Stumbling, she lands shakily and notes with relief that she's in Diagon Alley, because it was the first location to pop into her head.
She quickly runs to the twins' shop and bangs loudly on the locked door, earning a few odd looks from passerby. Feet shuffle over the wooden floors as someone comes to unlock the door and she finds George staring at her with surprise.
"Hermione? What are you doing here so late?" She realizes suddenly that it must be after six o'clock and briefly wonders why the twins aren't over at Grimmauld place.
"C'mon, love. Come in," George grabs her arm and, when she continues to stand there in shock, yanks her inside. He winces as he sees an angry welt on her face from where she was slapped.
"Are you okay? What happened?"
She just shakes her head and bursts into sobs, the past hour overcoming her. George's eyes become comically wide (he isn't exactly keen on handling crying birds) and he scoops her into his arms, taking the stairs by two with his long legs and slamming open the door to the flat.
"FRED!"
"I already told you, George, I'm not helping you slip Mum Ton-tongue- What's wrong?" Fred appears from behind a mountain of boxes, his hair covered in dust. When he sees Hermione, his eyes fill with confusion, and then worry.
"Hermione? Oh my god, what happened to her, George?"
"Dunno. Didn't say," he places her gently on their dusty couch, treating her like a china doll, and Fred immediately sits next to her and pulls her onto his lap. She revels in his warm embrace, finally feeling safe. She cries into his polo shirt for a few minutes before she stiffens and gasps in his arms.
"Harry!" Her voice is hoarse from crying and she noisily clears her throat, grimacing as she thinks how repulsed Fred must be to feel her slobbering all over him.
"What?"
"We have to tell Harry! NOW! Tell him I'm safe!"
"Okay, okay. We'll tell Harry." George shoots off his patronous and they both turn to look at her, concerned.
She pushes Fred's arms away and moves to sit next to him. "I'm okay now. I was just scared and then I realized they might have gotten to Harry and told him they had me..."
"Hermione, love, you're not making much sense."
"And that's coming from us."
The corners of her mouth turn up slightly but she still looks at them quite seriously. "I...Your dad planned to walk me back home from the Ministry but it was late and I was tired of waiting so I left without him-"
"YOU WHAT?"
"Well..." she looks at them sheepishly to find they're both staring at her with angry expressions. "It was stupid, I know."
"You're damn right it was stupid."
"Just let me finish. I thought everything would be fine but then I noticed I was being followed. But I still thought it was okay because the person has never tried anything before... but then, out of nowhere, they grabbed me."
The twins gasp and Fred's grip on her hand tightens.
"Anyway, he took my wand and forced me to side-along apparate and I ended up in some alleyway. He tied my arms behind my back and pushed me against a wall and took off his mask. It was McNair, one of the death eaters...he slapped me and-"
Fred growls in a feral manner, absolutely furious, so she hurriedly finishes telling them the rest of the story as fast as she can.
"I'm going to murder that fucking bastard," Fred stands abruptly, clenching his fists. "I'm going to find him, torture him, and kill his pathetic arse guts."
"Fred..."
"I'll help." George stands up, looking equally upset.
"NO! Don't leave me, please." They look at her as if just remembering she's there and they share a silent conversation before nodding.
"I'll take you back to Harry's house, Mione."
"Say, how'd you know we'd be here, anyway?" George asks.
"Huh? Oh, well, I didn't. I just apparated to Diagon Alley and instinct led me to your shop. Why are you two here?"
"Well, since you lot are moving back to the Burrow tomorrow, we thought we'd move back to the flat above our shop tonight."
"No sense in moving twice. It's nearly ready anyway."
"And that way we can help tomorrow."
"Mainly Ron and Harry, because they haven't packed anything yet."
"You're going to help?" She disbelievingly asks and they shrug in response.
"Yeah. A little joke here. A little joke there."
"Shrunken objects."
"Disappearing shoes."
"All in the name of fun, of course." She rolls her eyes but can't help but giggle at their antics.
"C'mon, Mione. Let's get you home." Fred gathers her in his arms, smiling when she sneezes from the dust.
"Oh, sure. Leave me here to un-pack," George jokes, but he smiles understandingly at his twin.
Fred nods and then disapparates. They soon arrive at Grimmauld place and he walks in, refusing to set her down.
They walk into the kitchen to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, and even Percy all sitting there anxiously. Mrs. Weasley is wringing her hands and periodically glancing at the clock indicating everyone's location. It's set in the middle of the table, like a glorified trophy, and it's obvious that everyone had been staring at it, hoping that Fred and Hermione's locations would jump to "home."
They rise as a group when Fred walks in with her.
"Where have you been? We've been worried sick!" Mrs. Weasley bustles over and tsks at seeing Hermione's face. She makes Hermione sit down and applies some ointment to the welt. Fred only lets her go reluctantly.
He sits down next to her, holding her hand, his thumb brushing reassuringly over the back, and he briefly explains to the others what happened.
"You got the patronous?"
"Yeah, but it didn't make much sense, mate. All it said was that Hermione was safe and that Harry shouldn't go anywhere," Ron says.
"I can't believe they still think Vol-"
"Don't say his name, Harry! The taboo! Remember what happened last time?"
"Er, right. Sorry, Mr. Weasley. But, anyway, how could they think he'd come back?"
"I don't know, Harry. He actually looked a little insane to me," Hermione admits.
"Did he say who the other death eaters were?"
"No. Sorry."
"Are you sure, Hermione? Maybe he said something and you just forgot until now or...?" Harry shuts up when Fred sends a glare his way that clearly says, 'Leave my woman alone.'
Hermione snaps back, "I already told you all I know, Harry!"
They talk for an hour, discussing the events. Mr. Weasley sends an owl to the Ministry to let them know what happened and everyone declares that Hermione is not going anywhere alone until this is straightened out. She is reprimanded firmly by Mr. Weasley for walking by herself and assures him she won't try that stunt again.
They would have talked even longer if Mrs. Weasley hadn't made Harry and Ron continue packing, which was met by a barrage of complaints.
Fred refuses to leave Hermione alone and insists on helping her pack her things in her room.
"Fred. It's okay. I'm fine, really. You can go help George un-pack at your flat." She caresses the worn cover of her favorite book before placing it carefully on a pile near her trunk.
"I'm not leaving you, love." He stands near her dresser, playing with her jewelry; a necklace currently hanging from his left ear, while he tries to balance a bracelet on his nose.
"I'm safe here. It's fine."
"But you're not fine." Her hands still in their movements of folding up a blue sweater and she looks at him in surprise.
"You say you're fine, Hermione, but I know you're going to stay wide awake in fear tonight and, then, you'll have nightmares about that bitch who tortured you."
"How did you know?" She whispers.
"Because I care about you and I'm beginning to know you, Hermione. And you need company right now, as much as your pride refuses to admit it."
"Thank you," she gently kisses him on the cheek, snags the necklace and bracelet, and resumes packing. She doesn't notice that he reverently holds his check and grins goofily.
A quiet knock sounds on the door and Mrs. Weasley enters. "Hermione? Oh! Fred, I didn't realize you were still here. Is your poor brother un-packing all by himself?"
"Maybe?"
"Never mind. It's for the best that you're here, I suppose. We need to talk to you both downstairs."
The couple shares a questioning glance with each other before following her to the parlor, where they sit on the couch and face a very serious Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Hermione, Fred, this might come as a shock, but..." Mr. Weasley trails off and helplessly ] looks to his wife.
"We're afraid the wedding has to be moved up. We simply cannot wait until February. You need to get married now. The sooner, the better."
"WHAT?" Tension spreads over her like a wildfire; first McNair and now this? Did some malicious individual cast a curse on her this morning just for fun?
"Uh, why?" Fred's eyes are as wide as saucers.
"You're being watched, Hermione. The death eaters have found some way to track you. Most likely, they'll try to come after you again. If you marry Fred now, your last name will change, and your location will change to the flat, making it much harder for them to find you."
"Oh my god," she whispers, unsure if she can do this.
"How soon?" Fred asks anxiously.
"Well, ever fancy a Sunday wedding?" Mr. Weasley asks tentatively.
"SUNDAY! Arthur, you cannot expect her to plan a wedding in one day! We have to get flowers and send out invitations and-"
"No. No invitations, Molly. This will be our family only. No one can know they're married. We're trying to hide that fact from the death eaters so that it's harder to find her, remember?"
"Right, right. But Sunday?"
"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. I wanted a smaller wedding anyway. I'm sure it will be lovely."
"Very well. Let me just go get my magazines. You already have a dress, and I can conjure up some flowers..." She abruptly stands and hurries to her room to retrieve her wedding supplies.
Mr. Weasley looks between the couple and clears his throat, saying something about getting a drink before wandering off.
"Well, that was... unexpected," Fred mutters.
"I'm so sorry, Fred," Hermione says.
"Sorry?"
"This is all my fault! If I hadn't been so careless, we wouldn't have to get married so soon. Neither of us are ready to l-live together!"
"Oh, love. It's fine. We'll be okay. Not sure how George will feel about sharing the flat though. He won't be able to dance around in his boxers and sing if you're always around." He grins but she doesn't laugh.
With a sigh, he pulls her into his arms and rocks her back and forth. She inhales deeply, secretly loving his mixed scent of sweet cologne and gunpowder.
"It'll be okay."
She really hopes he's right.
A/N: I'm trying to improve my writing style so that it includes the 5 senses more, because I've noticed that I usually focus primarily on sight, which leaves so much to be desired. If anyone has any suggestions or friendly criticism, please share :)