Chapter 13
Summer 1997
"Come on! Get your arses inside! Don't have time for cozy catch ups! We've got to hustle and get the hell out of here!" barked Alastor Moody from the doorway.
The twins kept their eyes on Hermione as the group filed into the room. She'd not been fully herself since she'd shown up at their place two weeks earlier in a state of panic.
It had been the night after Dumbledore's funeral. She had arrived via floo, clutching an armload of books, begging for assistance in developing a plan to protect her parents by erasing their memories of her and sending them to Australia with new identities.
Fred and George immediately agreed to help, poring through the countless volumes alongside her in order to determine the safest method possible to achieve the goal of keeping her family safe.
Once they'd settled on a course of action the boys did whatever they could for her, even having dinner with the Grangers that fateful evening in order to provide moral support for their friend. After dessert Fred and George stood by her side as she cast the spell.
Afterwards the boys tried to remain strong for Hermione but truth be told everyone shed more than a few tears as they apparated to the twins' flat where Hermione had remained ever since, staying in Fred's room while he and George shared the other.
She'd argued about the arrangement at first, insisting she didn't want to be a bother and that she was perfectly happy sleeping on the sofa, but Fred held his ground and Hermione could tell by the look in his eyes that this was one fight that she wasn't going to win. She eventually gave in with the provision that they shared the cooking and cleaning duties until she could find a place of her own.
Now the three of them, along with other members of the Order of the Phoenix, were standing in a deserted living room on Privet Drive, preparing to transfigure themselves into Harry Potter look-a-likes in order to serve as decoys in an effort to safely transport the Chosen One from the Dursley's former address in Surry to the relative safety of the Burrow.
As they listened to Mad-Eye recap the plan, Fred caught Hermione's attention just as she got the cue to forcibly acquire enough of Harry's hair to activate the polyjuice. When she walked past, Fred softly imitated a hissing cat, earning him a sharp jab in the ribs for his troubles.
After the potion took effect the seven newly created Potters began digging through the bag containing identical sets of clothes to complete the illusion. Fred tried to ignore the sight of 'Harry' stripping off Hermione's jumper to reveal her under garments but was entirely unsuccessful in the attempt.
Soon it was time for the each member of the group to find their assigned travelling partner. As the teams prepared to leave, one of the Harrys broke ranks to rush over and gave each twin a quick hug. When they embraced, Fred had the awkward experience of hearing the Gryffindor seeker's voice whisper in his ear, "Stay safe, Fred. Nothing reckless. Nothing foolhardy. No heroics. You promised, remember?"
Fred was inordinately pleased that even with everyone charmed to look exactly like Harry, Hermione could still identify him. He checked to make sure no one else was listening and whispered back, "You too, Kitten. Last one to the Burrow has to do all the housework for a month. Deal?"
Harry / Hermione stepped back and grinned. "Deal."
xoxox
Fred was never able to accurately describe what happened next. The group had no more left the ground in Little Whinging when they were set upon by dozens of Death Eaters and the subsequent hour turned into a maelstrom of explosions, curses, adrenaline and terror as he and his father tore through the night sky in a desperate bid to stay alive.
When they finally reached the Burrow, Fred's heart was racing as his eyes darted around the yard searching for George and Hermione. He breathed an immense sigh of relief when he spotted Hermione barreling towards him and he only just managed to brace himself properly before she was hurtling into his arms.
He squeezed her as tight possible as he whispered, "Thank Merlin! You okay?"
She didn't say anything but he could feel her nod against his chest.
He held on a moment longer and joked, "That's good. Now, please tell me I'm not the last one back 'cuz if I am I'm going to want the chance to go double or nothing on the housework — "
He stopped midsentence when he looked down and for the first time noticed her red eyes and tear stained face. His hands shook as he pushed a lock of hair from her forehead to reveal a rather nasty cut that no one had bothered to heal yet.
His blood ran cold as he watched her mouth open and close as she struggled to speak but try as she might the only sounds she could produce were soft whimpers.
"Hermione? What's wrong? What's happened?" he asked, his voice rising in panic.
Someone next to him spoke up. "It's George. He's...hurt."
Fred's head snapped around to see Harry and Hagrid standing nearby looking very somber.
"What do you mean — hurt?" Fred blinked as he tried to process the words he was hearing.
He felt Hermione take his hand and pull him towards the house.
"Come on," she said in a hoarse voice. "I'll take you to him."
xoxox
When he found her again she was sitting alone in the yard outside the Burrow, wrapped in a well worn, patchwork blanket, staring at the stars. As he settled down next to her, she gave a sidewise glance and silently handed him a small silver flask. He took a sniff of the contents and raised an eyebrow.
"Fire Whiskey? When did this replace tea as your beverage of choice?"
"Somehow, I didn't think Earl Grey was going to cut it after what happened tonight."
"You're probably right," Fred nodded, taking a deep swig of the liquor, feeling it burn as it trickled down his throat. They peered into the darkness, neither allowing themselves the luxury of breaking down, each trying to be strong for the other.
After a moment Fred asked, "How's Harry doing?"
"He's a wreck," said Hermione. "You know how he is. Blames himself for all of it. The loss of Mad-Eye and Hedwig. Georgie getting hurt. Everything."
Fred could hear the strain in her voice. He handed the drink back and watched as she downed a shot.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said in a tone that indicated that she was anything but fine. "Any progress on repairing Georgie's ear?"
"Nah. Best I can tell, it's a lost cause. Mum sent me out of the house so they could try one last ditch effort but apparently these kind of Dark Magic injuries can never truly be healed."
Hermione studied the flask in her hands. "Suppose I'll have to get used to it then."
"Get used to what?"
"Not being the only one that can tell the two of you apart."
"I suppose so," said Fred.
"We'll still be friends though, right?" Hermione asked in a small, frightened voice that startled him. She took one look at his face and blurted, "I'm sorry! That was a horrid, silly, self involved thing to say in light of what happened. You must think I'm — "
Her head dropped to her knees and her shoulders began to shake.
"Hey. Stop that. Look at me," Fred tugged on her blanket until she raised her face towards him. "Do you honestly mean to tell me that after all this time you still don't believe us when we say you're our friend no matter what?"
Hermione gave a weak shrug. "Most of me does but...every now and again a little voice in the back of my head pops up and says that friends like you are too good to be true. That one morning I'll wake up and be alone again." She sniffed back a tear. "So when I got here and Georgie was hurt and you weren't back, well...it was like Cedric's funeral only worse and — "
Fred pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair, trying hard not to think about what might have happened to everyone he loved that night.
"Well, you can tell that stupid voice to sod off. I've said it before and I'll say it again. You're stuck with us — forever — whether you like the idea or not."
She took a deep breath, reached for his hand and whispered, "I-I like it. I like that idea very much."
Fred interlaced their fingers and squeezed. "Me too, Kitten. Me too."
"Ahem!"
The sound of a deep male voice from behind startled the pair. They whipped around to see Bill Weasley standing a few feet away.
"Sorry to bother you Hermione but Fleur needs help brewing a potion and things'll go a lot quicker if it's someone with a better grasp of French than the rest of us have. Think you could give her a hand?"
"Absolutely. No problem."
Bill helped her to her feet and Hermione handed him the flask of Fire Whiskey before giving Fred a soft smile. "I'll see you later?"
"Count on it," he replied.
As she made her way to the house, Bill sat next to Fred, paying close attention to the way his brother's eyes followed the girl until she was safely inside.
The elder Weasley took a sip of the whiskey and casually asked, "So...Kitten, huh?"
Fred turned to his brother, eyes wide with panic. "How'd you—"
Bill pointed to his ear. "Part wolf now, remember? All kinds of enhanced senses."
Fred's face went white. "Oh, sweet Circe. Please, Bill. If you value my life at all, please, I beg you, do NOT tell anyone about that. She'd kill me!"
Bill didn't even try to hide the smirk on his face. "Normally, as your older brother, I would be duty bound to use this information to make your life a living hell."
He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. "However, since the entire world seems to be heading in that general direction anyway and since we came damn close to losing one of our own tonight, I will instead promise to keep this information to myself. For the time being, at least."
Fred sighed in relief. "Thanks, brother. I owe you one."
Bill took another drink before handing the flask back to Fred. "Damn straight, you do."
Just then Ginny called out to inform Fred that he was allowed to come back and sit with George. On the way inside, he ran into Ron and Harry.
He pulled the duo into the nearest broom closet and snarled, "Listen you two. Listen and listen good. George and I don't know the details of what you're planning and we don't really care. All we care about is Hermione. So no matter where you go or what you do, you bring our girl back to us, you hear? You bring her back safe and sound or don't bother coming back at all. Got it?"
Ron and Harry both swallowed hard and nodded solemnly.
"Good," Fred said, fixing them with a hard stare. "Because I promise you this. What you went through tonight will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you if anything happens to her."
FIVE DAYS LATER
"You gonna keep staring like a nutter or are you going to ask the girl to dance?"
George handed his twin a glass of champagne as he tipped his head in the direction of Viktor Krum leading Hermione onto the dance floor at Bill and Fleur's wedding reception.
"Big talk coming from a bloke that hasn't taken his eyes off the bird in the yellow dress," replied Fred, gesturing towards the sight of Luna Lovegood twirling happily by herself a few feet away.
"True," nodded George. "But the difference is that I'm going to do something about it."
In one swift motion George downed his drink, set his glass on the table then jumped over a chair to sweep a giggling Luna off her feet and onto the dance floor.
Fred smiled, happy to see his brother acting a bit more like his old self. He knew George was secretly quite anxious about how people would behave around him after his injury but Luna's nonchalant reaction had done wonders for his self confidence. Rather than recoiling in disgust or pointedly ignoring the wound and avoiding the topic of his missing ear, she'd simply stared at him a moment then stated matter-of-factly that she thought the bandage gave him a 'dashing, devil-may-care look' before changing the subject to ask if the bride and groom had plans for any butter beer corks that might be left after the wedding.
Fred paused to admire the elaborate wedding decorations his family had worked so hard on. Hurricane Molly had kept everyone so busy over the past few days that none of them had enjoyed the luxury of a spare moment to themselves. Now that the service was over and the party had begun it was nice to be able to properly enjoy the fruits of their labor.
He nodded appreciatively before turning his attention back to Hermione, whose radiant smile seemed to outshine every light in the tent.
He felt a tug in his chest as she spun around the room in her new lilac dress robes, bought especially for the occasion. It had been Ginny that talked her into the purchase, insisting that tonight was the perfect opportunity to 'remind everyone that you are — in fact — a female'."
Fred didn't need reminding. As he watched the way the fairy lights and glow lanterns reflected in her dark hair and sparkling eyes he finally understood what people meant when they used the word 'breathtaking.'
The song came to an end and as Viktor went to refresh their drinks, Fred took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and started across the dance floor. He'd made it about halfway when there was a sudden bolt of blinding white light and the figure of a large, silver Lynx materialized in the center of the tent.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the authoritative voice of Kinsgley Shacklebolt pierced the air.
"The Ministry has fallen. Minister Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
Fred tore his gaze from the patronus just long enough to lock eyes with Hermione as utter chaos erupted around them. He took another step in her direction but lost his footing when the partygoers on either side of him began fleeing in terror.
He almost hit the floor but managed to steady himself at the last moment, however by the time he regained his balance and looked around, Hermione was gone.