Hermione's hair was in her face. It shouldn't have been. It should've been shorter, darker, though just as messy. The wind tore at her clothes. Those, at least, were right. Harry's.
"Hang on!" Kingsley screamed it at her. It may well have been a whisper.
She couldn't shout back. He was behind them. Flying. It wasn't possible, but there he was. Gaining on them. Too close. Raising his wand.
"No!"
George fell at her feet, back at the Burrow. His eyes were glassy, his face pale. Half his head was gone. She fell into the gaping hole there, screaming. It wasn't fair.
Remus hunted them in his wolf's form, prowling through the Burrow, his eyes shining gold. Ginny lay in the living room, torn to shreds. Harry was shouting.
"Hermione!"
"No, no, no."
"Hermione!"
~m~
Fred shook her again. The sun wouldn't rise for another hour or so.
The whole house was awake, on the stairs, waiting for someone to return a verdict on Hermione.
"Hermione!" He pulled the sheets off her, grabbing her wrists as she clawed at herself. Her hips bucked as she thrashed. "Hermione, you're okay, you're okay, it's me. It's Fred."
Bill had his back against the door and a hand on Ginny's shoulder as she cried quietly.
"Fred," Hermione's eyes flung open. He let her go. She scrambled away from him, against the wall. He waited, sitting on the edge of her bed. Her voice rasped from the screaming, "Fred, I'm- I-"
"It's okay," Fred held out his hand to her. "It is. I promise."
"Geo- George," Hermione gasped.
"He's okay. He's still downstairs, he's asleep," Fred lied. George was keeping people out on the other side of the door. Fred shifted closer to Hermione. "Was it that bad?"
"It wouldn't end," Hermione whispered, drawing her knees to her chest. "It wouldn't end."
"It's over now," Fred promised. He touched her hair gently, pushing it behind her ear. "I'll have Mum get you a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. It'll help."
"I'm sorry," Hermione ducked her head onto her knees. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Fred assured her again. He kissed the top of her head, then slid off the bed. He pointed to Ginny, "You calmed her down." She nodded, and he turned to Bill. "You were here to help Ginny. I watched the door."
"Yeah," Bill cleared his throat. He and Fred switched places, and Ginny sat down next to Hermione, wrapping her freckled arms around the smaller woman. Fred rapped twice on the door, then opened it slowly. George peered in from the other side. Fred slipped through, closing the door again.
There were far too many people watching him. The bandage around George's face made him wince, as it had for days.
He'd lost an ear. An ear. Because of Snape.
Fred would kill the traitorous bastard for it.
"Ginny got her calmed down," Fred said easily. "Bill's going to stay with 'em until they both go back to sleep."
"Tell them there's no rush to get up in the morning," their mum said. She yawned, moving back toward the Master Bedroom. "We'll celebrate Harry's birthday at dinner."
"Mum, I'm going to get a draught for her," Charlie said softly. She only nodded and trudged back to bed. Fred took a deep breath before meeting Ron's eyes.
Ron only turned and went up the steps. Harry lingered for a moment to mutter, "I'm sorry."
No one paid him any heed. It wasn't his fault. Mostly.
When only George and Fleur remained, she said, "I zink I will see my 'usband-to-be very soon, no?"
Fred cleared his throat and stuck his head back into Ginny's room. Bill paced at the foot of Hermione's bed, while Ginny and Hermione lay beside each other, talking quietly. Fred jerked his head, stepping out of the way so Bill could squeeze through. He held his hand out to Fleur and they went down, likely toward the kitchen. They had an interesting habit of holding long talks there while everyone else was in bed. Ron had caught them ten times on his late-night snack trips. George twelve.
"This is bad," George muttered, pacing on the small landing in front of Ginny's room. Fred nodded silently. "Like, really really bad, Fred. They were right; we should have left Hermione and Ron here. What if-"
"George."
"Fuck, Mad-Eye died, Fred," George hissed. "He's dead, and we- I'm not the same. She's not the same. We shouldn't have let them come!"
"It wasn't our decision to make, George," Fred reminded him. George only shook his head, propping his arms behind it. Fred cut into his path. "Breathe, George. Just breathe."
George matched Fred's breathing until his own came naturally. George fell back to sit on the steps, dropping his head into his hands. "It's all a mess, Fred."
"I know, George," Fred ruffled his hair lightly.
"I found it," Charlie said, holding up a small, maroon bottle. Fred held out his hand for it, shifting away from George. "Are you sure you don't want to stay with him? I can give it to-"
"Bill's in the kitchen."
"I was going to say Hermione, because I know Bill is in the kitchen," Charlie said slowly. Fred swallowed, standing straighter. "Are you okay?"
"Sure."
"Absolutely not."
Charlie's eyes narrowed immediately. "Now, I'm worried."
Fred jerked his chin toward George and snatched the bottle from Charlie, twisting into Ginny's room before Charlie could protest. He took a moment to listen to them, but it was quiet all through the house.
~m~
Hermione took a deep breath. If she'd gotten this wrong, there were no detectable signs. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed under her like a child, folded over herself as she worked. She turned the beaded bag over, running her fingers over the ridges. The scraping sound soothed her, and she took another deep breath before risking to open the bag. She looked inside. Darkness, though the hint of stitching remained. She put her hand in. Then her arm. It took reaching in up to her shoulder to touch the bottom. Her smile came slowly.
Undetectable, check.
Extended, check.
The charm had worked.
"'Mione, Mum wants-"
Hermione froze, no more than a deer in headlights. Fred was little better, gaping at her. Hermione carefully pulled the bag down her arm.
"What does your mum want?"
"That- That's an Undetectable Extension Charm on that."
"Uh . . . Yes."
"You're bloody brilliant, Hermione Jean Granger," Fred knelt on the floor beside her. Hermione smiled up at him and he kissed her nose. "Can I have it?"
"Absolutely not," Hermione tugged the bag away from his greedy fingers, holding it behind her back. Fred pouted, leaning closer. She bent backwards.
"Please?" Fred made a grab for it, and she twisted away. "Please, please, please."
"Fred," Hermione kept one hand behind her to keep her from falling over, using the other to push Fred back. He grinned wider. "Fred, don't you dare-"
He flopped on top of her. Hermione squeaked as his weight pinned one arm between her and the floor and the other between her and his chest. She squirmed as his hands dug under and around her. She managed to free the hand between them, digging it into his hair. "You think you can distract me from my prize?"
"I think you're after the wrong prize," Hermione breathed, moving her legs so he laid between them. She leaned up enough to kiss him, pulling him closer. Fred hummed, his arms abandoning their search to steady himself over her. Hermione wrapped one leg around his waist, sighing as he pushed himself up. "This seems familiar."
"You usually aren't wearing much in the way of clothes at this point," Fred bit her lip lightly, his hands dropping to the hem of her shirt. Hermione sat up, freeing her hand and discreetly flinging the beaded bag under her cot. Her shirt came up and over her head. She kissed Fred, yanking him back to her. "Shouldn't we get off the floor?"
"Hey, Hermione, Mum wants- Merlin undying, my eyes!"
"Oh, God," Hermione buried her face in her hands. Fred yanked a blanket off Ginny's bed and threw it over her. She draped it around herself and watched as Charlie doubled over, rubbing at his eyes furiously. "Fred, did you-"
"Charlie, got something to tell you," Fred jumped to his feet, pulling his older brother into the room by the front of his shirt. He slammed the door shut. "Charlie, remember when you came back from Romania for the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Bill met Fleur and there was the ball and-"
"Fred, I really hope there's a point."
"Well, about that time, I kissed her and she didn't smack me and we've been on that way since."
"Fred, that barely makes any sense," Hermione said, turning her back to reclaim her shirt.
"Weren't Ron's panties in a twist 'cause you went with Krum to the ball?" Charlie scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"We don't speak of that," Fred said darkly. Hermione rolled her eyes and folded up the blanket Fred had snatched up. She set in on Ginny's bed.
"What he means is," Hermione took a deep breath. "We started going out just after. Viktor just couldn't understand English well enough to get what I was telling him."
"And now that you think everyone is going to die, you're back together again."
"Er, not exactly," Fred rubbed the back of his neck. "See, we've been together . . . the whole time?"
"You've been what?"
"Yeah. The whole time. Except this past year was a little harder than I should've liked. But, well, it is what it is."
"I feel so lied to," Charlie shook his head dramatically. "First Bill has a French beauty out of no where, now you have the pretty genius from Ron's year-"
"Missing Ida?"
Charlie clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing. "We. Do. Not. Speak. Her. Name."
"If you're going to be back in the country-"
"Shall I go tell Mum that you've been shagging Ron's best friend for years without caring to mention it?"
"Charlie," Fred growled.
"Not all of us are liars by nature," Charlie patted Fred's cheek twice and left.
"Who's Ida?"
"Charlie first and only steady girlfriend. She was bet ten galleons he wouldn't sleep with her more than twice. Time he found out, she actually liked him. He took a while to come around, but it was the time when he was deciding whether or not to go to Romania, so he went. They didn't ever recover from that," Fred shrugged his shoulders. Hermione touched his arm lightly, leaning her head against his shoulder. He tilted his head down against hers. "She came for Christmas once. She was nice."
"And apparently very good in the sack," Hermione hummed. Fred pulled away to gape at her again. She flushed, "I mean- well, that's putting it crudely, but-"
"Hermione Jean Granger-"
"That's one more full name drop than you get in a day," Hermione chided, marching toward the door. "Let's go find your mum before Bill finally catches us in the act."
~m~
Hermione wanted to hit Fred's Aunt Muriel, and she'd only just met the woman. She'd wobbled, just barely, on the heels she wasn't quite used to, and the wretched crone had immediately attacked her.
"Oh, dear, is this the Muggleborn?" Muriel sneered. Hermione's fists clenched instantly. She wobbled closer to Ginny, leaning on her slightly. "Weak ankles, bad posture, hair like that? You said she was a daughter of yours, Molly Prewett?"
"Near enough, Aunt Muriel, and I won't hear another word about it. They'll be starting soon, you ought to go find your seat," Mrs. Weasley said sharply. The older woman grumbled but went on down to the wedding.
For all their preparations, Hermione still felt as though the wedding had snuck up on them all.
She'd stolen Harry's rucksack and some of Ron's clothes during laundry duty. Most of her things, books and all, were stacked up in the little beaded bag she clutched so very close to her. She thought she might have all the bare necessities she could manage to take. There was always something to forget. She'd taken a couple towels on her last trip to the bathroom.
"Don't worry about her, Hermione, dear, you have very sturdy ankles," Mrs. Weasley beamed at Hermione for a moment before rushing upstairs to help Mrs. Delacour with Fleur. Hermione lingered in the sitting room for a moment longer, hoping she wasn't forgetting anything too important. She knew it was a little ridiculous to carry everything with her all the time, but she couldn't help it. She had a feeling she couldn't shake, and it was threatening to rip her apart.
Hermione made her way down to the marquee, hoping she didn't look like she was about to fall over at any given moment. She wished there was a better spell for wearing heels and keeping one's balance. A disguised Harry stood awkwardly at the front of the marquee. Ron led Muriel down the aisle, and George and Fred seated several others. Ron reemerged first, and seeing that Fred and George were down to their last few, Hermione tried to pick up her pace. Fred looked up from the marquee, laughing at something George had said, and his eyes caught on her. Hermione smiled; it was the same expression he'd pulled at the Yule Ball all that time ago. She felt ready to fight off a thousand dementors. Fred nudged George then started to make his way out of the marquee at an impressive pace, drawing the attention of several tittering cousins of Fleur's. Hermione disguised her smile and hurried over to Ron and Harry. Ron stopped mid-sentence.
"Wow," he said with a slightly dopey grin. Before Hermione could answer, Fred finally freed himself of the rows of white chairs.
"Look at our little Hermione, all grown up," said Fred. He didn't take his eyes off her for a second. She did a quick spin. The skirt of her dress flared with her movement. "You look amazing, love."
"Your Great Aunt Muriel thought otherwise," Hermione said, and if Ron or Harry had noticed Fred's compliment, they didn't react. They both looked slightly stunned, as if 'Hermione' and 'dress' weren't quite adding up properly.
"What'd she say?" Fred asked, his face darkening slightly.
"First, 'Oh, dear, is this the Muggleborn,' then she told me I had bad posture and skinny ankles." Fred wrinkled his nose and looked back into the marquee. Hermione cleared her throat for his attention and shot him a warning look. He answered with an innocent pout.
"Your ankles are normal," Ron said. "Aunt Muriel is just rude to everyone."
"Are you talking about that old bat?" George came out of the marquee, looking bewildered. "She's just told me I've got lopsided ears." Hermione flinched. She'd come inside with Fred after he'd gotten back that horrid night. The three of them had sat in the living room together all night. George was terrified of what Angelina was going to do the next time they saw each other. She was away at training camp until next week. George plowed on, "I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; He was a right laugh at weddings."
"Wasn't he the one who saw the Grim and died two days later?" Hermione asked, glancing from George back to Fred. He stared at her still.
"Well, yeah, he went a bit . . . odd toward the end," George elbowed Fred.
"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," Fred said hastily. "He used to down an entire bottle of fire whiskey, then run into the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling flowers out of his-"
Harry started laughing, but Hermione cut Fred off, "Yes, he sounds like a real charmer."
"Never married for some reason," Ron said mildly. Hermione scoffed; he really was hopeless.
She knew who was behind her by the shadow that crossed Fred's face. Viktor Krum. She'd forgotten that Fleur had invited him. Harry took him in to be seated before anyone could break the tension through swinging fists.
"Well, he's not coming to my wedding," Fred said.
"Your wedding is sounding better and better," Ron said.
"What else has he said about his wedding?" Hermione asked. Fred smiled at her feebly. Fred telling Ron about weddings? She didn't like it. Well, she didn't dislike it, but she knew something was definitely up.
"He's going to put a full Body-Bind curse on Mum," Ron grinned, oblivious to the battle of wills between Fred's blank face and Hermione's determined one. "And he's going to let guests wear jeans."
"I didn't say jeans, I said not dress robes," Fred amended quietly. Hermione lifted her eyebrows at him. He explained, "They're uncomfortable."
"They look very nice," Hermione said, raising an appraising look at him. His dress robes were a degree tamer than Ron's rather expensive set, but they were still quite dashing on him. "I think you should reconsider."
"We better go," George said, pointing. Fleur stepped out of the house.
The wedding went by quickly, even though she couldn't help but cry.
~m~
The ceremony finished with a classic Weasley touch; The golden balloons popped and released tropical birds, and the twins led an enthusiastic round of applause, complete with whistling, as Bill kissed Fleur. Then they all stood, and the marquee transformed for the reception, the chairs flying around to circle tables. Hermione beamed at it all, reciting to herself which spells were responsible for every element of it.
"We should go congratulate them," Hermione said to Ron and Harry.
"Hermione, wait," Ron said, seeing Hermione shoving through the crowd. He didn't see Fred tugging her out of it. No one did, really. They were all too stunned by a radiantly happy part-Veela bride.
"I have to at least say hello to them," Hermione said to Fred. The gold jacketed band started up. "Before they start dancing."
"I'll wear dress robes," Fred said abruptly, with a not-so-discreet glance around them. "As long as I get to see you as happy as they are, I don't care."
"Fred, we're not even-"
The world faded away as Fred held up a small, silver band. There was no stone, but dancing etches graced the metal. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at him, bewildered.
"I'm not asking you to marry me," Fred blurted, perhaps a touch too loud. Someone looked over, and the ring vanished from sight. Hermione's mouth dropped a little further. Fred walked away, and she trailed after him, trying to catch up. He paused at the edge of the tent, half in darkness. The ring appeared again. Hermione glared at it. Fred held up a second, just a simply elegant. "I had Bill enchant them for us. So we can talk."
"Wait, what?"
"I'm not proposing. You're seventeen, and I love you, but I'd rather not give them an excuse to say this isn't real," Fred took her hand, and he slipped it on. He leaned closer to her. "I have one like it. Bill enchanted them so we could talk while you're away."
"Like Sirius' mirror?"
"Yeah," Fred smiled sadly. "But, uh, don't forget, okay?"
"I won't," Hermione vowed.
"I love you," Fred said, kissing the top of her head. "I love you. You have to come back to me, okay? Eventually?"
"As soon as I can," Hermione promised. "We still have tonight, Fred, we won't be leaving for a little bit."
"I know," Fred whispered. "I love you, though."
"I love you," Hermione said firmly, looking up at him sternly. And as he'd said before he'd left her, she whispered, "I'm not leaving you; I'm just leaving. I still love you."
"Oh, and George," Fred fished into his pockets for something else. Hermione twisted the ring over her finger as she waited. Fred procured a small book. "Remember how your bracelet went missing?"
Hermione flushed bright red, "Oh, I meant to tell you, but I just figured with all the moving and packing and unpacking that it'd turn up somewhere eventually, I've been looking for it when I remember to-"
"George stole it."
"I beg your pardon?"
"He found a spell," Fred opened the book. There were not words, only a thin protective film around a photograph. A photo-book. Hermione tried and failed to find the words. They were pictures of her and Fred, of her happiest moments. She and Fred beamed up at her from the little pictures.
"Fred, I don't-"
"Take it," Fred urged, kissing her softly. "He gave me one, too."
"I love you, so, so much," Hermione hummed, pushing the book into her bag. Fred smiled against her. "We should congratulate Fleur and Bill."
The lights flickered and Hermione pulled away from Fred slightly. The tent went dark. A silver Lynx materialized in the center of the dance floor. It spoke in the slow, measured voice of Kingsley.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
~m~
"I love you!" Hermione said over the first scream, backing into the crowd.
"Keep him safe!" Fred ordered.
"I will!" Hermione promised, and Fred stared after her, watching her disappear.
"I love you," Fred whispered one last time. He pulled his wand and joined the other Order members in replacing a few rudimentary protective enchantments. There was a series of cracks, both inside and outside the tent.
"Defensive charms only!" Lupin's voice carried over the shouting and screaming. Fred dodged a nasty looking jet of purple light and put up a Shield Charm between a Death Eater taking aim and a trio comprised of two red heads and one brunette. He set a Stunner back at the man.
A cackle was all that proceeded Fred being shot backwards into the center of the marquee.
"Fred!"
The guests had all but disappeared.
"Go!"
"Where are they?!"
"Where is he?!"
"Fred!"
"Run!"
Fred came to with a mess of wild black hair hovering over him. There were bright lights in every color and every direction, shouting too. He couldn't get back up, even though he knew he needed to. They were at his house. His home.
"Where did they go?!" demanded a shrill voice. The tip of a wand dug into Fred's throat. "Where are they?!"
"Safe," Fred muttered. He didn't know if it was true or not; he certainly hoped it was. He just wanted to incense the crazy bitch with her knee on his chest and her wand-
"Crucio!"
Fred had only ever seen the curse used on a spider before, and it had made strange high pitched squeaking sounds that were just shy of amusing, its legs twitching and curling as it shook uncontrollably. The pain hit Fred as a lory hits a hare; it was as if he'd been completely replaced by it.
Fred screamed and the sound echoed through the orchards, up into the attic of the house, across to the small pond. Xenophilius Lovegood commented to his daughter that the shrieking shrubs were particularly active that night. Fred's body contorted unnaturally, his legs kicking at the invisible foes driving nails through his skin, shattering each bone as they did so. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as they burned him alive.
And then it was gone.
"Where?!"
"Fuck off," Fred gasped. His lungs felt as if they were exploding, he couldn't get enough air in them. His vision looked the same way as it had when he'd been Harry for the night and taken off his glasses.
There was a sound like a whip and a cry of pain, then Bellatrix Lestrange Apparated away with a crack.
"Fred!" Charlie's scarred hands flew over Fred's torso and arms, checking for wounds before he grabbed Fred's head and lifted it slightly.
"Ow," Fred muttered, still panting.
"No, shit," Charlie muttered angrily.
.o0O0o.
What's this? Two updates less than a month apart? It's almost as though I wrote pieces of this chapter years ago . . .
123a456e: Thank you! This is much sooner than usual!
Ame no Uta: I don't know how people binge this anymore tbh, it's a heccin honker
AnotherAddicted: Tense enough for you? Thank you, I hope your holiday season was void of familial drama!
Fandomqueen104: Happy New Years? I worked New Years, in a bar, as door staff. Guess who cleaned up vomit four times in one hour? We've been doing this a long time now, queen, and I don't know how I'm supposed to answer your review any more than you know what to review.
ladylove001: Thank you!
mikeysrevenge: Soon enough?
Guest: Listen, Werewolf McWerewolf is a very serious man.
Bookwormkat1: Bless
Catrowline: I know, that's my biggest regret, to be honest. Ron's characterization hurts me, but when I first started writing, I just thought that was how Ron needed to be in a Fremione fic that takes place during or shortly after the war. Trust me though, you don't want me to go back and do it all again. Or . . . Do you? Thank you so much for your eternal thanks, I'm just gonna crawl in my lil hole and screeeeeee
Hollowg1rl: Thank you! The clouds mean that year 7 is starting, and all the good stuff that comes with it.
NymphadoraQuinn: Ahhhh someone who does math! Thank you so much! As mentioned above, I work in a bar (in the U.S.) so people are constantly surprised by my age. My original work(s), fun fact, are actually pretty damn close to me considering looking at publishing my first. Fingers crossed that I can get up the nerve and survive this semester :D
