"Why have I not heard about this Krum character?" Her mother used the stop sign to turn and glare at Hermione, her blinker ticking incessently.
"It was over before it began," Hermione said curtly, turning to stare out the window. "We had a reporter covering the tournament this year. She... didn't like me much. Still doesn't. Blew the whole thing out of proportion."
"What kind of reporter?" Her mother asked cautiously.
"Think 12 times worse than tabloid," Hermione said miserably. There was a long quiet pause where her mother navigated the streets of London, taking several shortcuts on their way back to the house.
"So you're not into Harry at all?" Hermione shook her head. "Or Krum? Or Ron? Or George-"
"Ew, mum." Hermione grimaced. "That would be so beyond weird."
"Okay, just making sure," Her mother shrugged. "By the way, your father's all set to go camping in the Forest this weekend."
Hermione smiled. The Forrest of Dean was the perfect place to release a very rare beetle...
"And he is not at all going to be happy to hear about Fred."
"Mum, can't we just... not tell him?" Hermione sank lower into her chair, wondering if the neighbouring cars could see her embarrassment coming off her in waves. "I mean, his parents don't really... erm..."
"Why ever not?" Her mother looked down her, in shock that she, she of all people, was the one Hermione trusted. It surprised her that it surprised her, after all she was Hermione's mother. She was the one Hermione was supposed to trust, wasn't she? Or was she supposed to scream 'You don't understand me!' and slam the door to her room? She could never keep up with it all.
"The reporter," Hermione said sullenly.
"You can't just say that as if it's an answer, darling," Mrs. Granger looked down at her daughter. However this reporter was, they would be receiving a very strong worded letter and if she ever saw them... Oh, but Hermione's mother hated violence. Still, for terrorizing her daughter as she so very clearly had perhaps she deserved it. Hermione's mother could pull a mean tooth.
"Well the reporter... I'm friends with Harry."
"I know, you talk about him a lot, though you are not interested in him," Mrs. Granger said seriously.
"Harry is just slightly famous-"
"For stopping the bad Wizard, moldy what-its, because he couldn't have possibly done it but he did somehow and his parents died," Mrs. Granger said impatiently, "Yes, I know, we've been threw this all before, but what does it have to do with you not telling the Weasley's that you're dating Fred?!"
"The reporter, Rita Skeeter, that is, wrote a story of this grand love triangle between Harry, Krum and I, saying that I only liked famous Quidditch players and liked all the attention."
"If you're anything like me that's probably the furthest from the truth," Mrs. Granger muttered. "I was mortified when your Dad and I told all our friends."
"Exactly!"
"But if it wasn't true why haven't you told his parents?"
"Because his mum thought it was true for a bit."
"So she no longer believes that it's true?" Mrs. Granger arched a perfect eyebrow at her daughter.
"But then-"
"Oh, here we go," Mrs. Granger turned back to the road, trying to stop her pleased smile. She'd had nearly the exact conversation over her now-husband with her best friend not too long ago.
"The bad Wizard came back this year, at the end of the term."
There was a long pause where her mother thought it over. "Don't you think you should've lead with that?! Oh, mum, by the way, loads of boy trouble, oh and a mass goddamn murderer is back out on the streets?!"
So maybe not the exact same conversation.
"He doesn't-" Hermione stopped herself halfway through her sentence, halfway through her lie. You-Know-Who would kill Muggles. Her parents might just have to worry about him. She would certainly have to be more careful. It dawned on her then that she was facing the beginnings of a war. She would have to protect her parents from the world they were so confused by. She was one of Harry's best friends. They'd use her to get to him, hell they'd hurt her just because the woman she was sitting next to was her mother, and she just so happened to not be a witch, and they were going home to a man who just so happened to not be a wizard.
"Hermione, are you going to be safe?" Her mother's words shocked her out of her thoughts. Their eyes met, and Hermione was surprised to find them on the same page, on the same paragraph.
"I don't know," Hermione said softly. "They hate Harry. They hate me. They'll try to use me to get to him. I can't tell anyone about Fred because... because then they'll try to use him to get to me."
"You realize the longer it goes on," Hermione's mother said sadly, "the harder it will be to tell everyone without any hurt feelings?"
"I know," Hermione smiled, "I did get some brains from you."
"You got all mine and more," her mother said proudly, "Probably more than your father and I combined, if I'm honest."
"Nah, I doubt it," Hermione blushed.
"Well, I of course, was a straight A student through Uni," her mother smiled conspiratorially, "But your father... he got a B once in Calculus... a B minus!"
Hermione laughed at the outrageousness of it all. They had gone from Fred, to You-Know-Who, back to Fred, and to university grades in about 3 seconds flat.
"We have O.W.L.s next year," Hermione gasped. She couldn't believe she had forgotten, she had to start studying immediately, she needed her books...
"So?" George prompted.
"Her mum looks exactly like her only older," Fred said nuetrally, tossing an apple into the air and catching it again.
"Really?"
"No, it's weird."
"S does Hermione age well?"
Fred threw the apple, it made a very satisfactory sound as it hit George in the stomach, "Shut up."
"Don't play with your food," George wheezed, chucking the apple back at his twin. "Did you two really fight?"
"Shut up," Fred repeated, already regretting telling his twin this particular story. "Like you and Angelina never fight."
"We never fight about how long we liked each other before I made a move."
"Really? You should because it was nearly a bloody decade," Fred muttered.
"Oh, shut up," George said sheepishly. "You were mooning about Hermione-"
"I was not mooning, what the hell does that even mean?" Fred said sourly.
"Casually reminding Ron that Hermione would love to come see the World Cup, even though we all know she hates Quidditch-"
"Shut up."
"Making sure to leave a Ton Tongue Toffee out so she'd find us and ask about it-"
"Shut up."
"Running after her screaming like a bloody idiot in the dark at the Cup-"
"Shut uuup."
"-Even though we were supposed to stay with Ginny-"
"Shut up, please?"
"Talking to her to make sure she was alright after that night-"
"For the love of Merlin, man, will you just shut up?"
"Bemoaning our sacred oath to never set foot in the library if it wasn't avoidable-"
"If I went on like this about you and Angelina-"
"Discreetly going way out of your way-"
"We would be here for centuries-"
"To pass her in the hall before-"
"Make that millennium-"
"And after classes-"
"No wands!" Fred declared, and with that he tackled his idiotic other half.
.o0O0o.
Thus ends Hermione Granger's Fourth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Frederick Weasley's Sixth Year at the same.
Holy shit guys remember how I said I was sick?! I thought it'd gotten better, but evidently it was still making my mind wonky because, as some of you noticed, I uploaded chapter 15 from the wrong fucking story. You can't imagine how sorry and also very embarrassed I am about the ordeal. Much apologies.
