You Are The Reason, a harry potter fanfic

"I'd climb every mountain and swim every ocean, just to be with you." - Calum Scott

There was a time when Hermione thought she had found the perfect man in Ronald Weasley. She can still remember the day she first met him, not that she thought he would become the man she would marry at the time, and even though they got off to a rocky start it had become one of her fondest memories. Then as the years passed, and the darkness of the war descended upon them, something changed. Hermione couldn't put her finger on what it was, but the love she and Ron shared started to shift; it began to become as tainted as her once treasured memories. At first she put it down to the stress of being wrapped up in constant danger, but after the war ended and nothing changed, she started to grasp that the problem had nothing to do with the war.

Hermione longed for a simple life, one where she could raise awareness for those less fortunate and at some point start a family, but as her relationship with Ron progressed, she began to understand she wouldn't have that sort of life. Ron seemed to thrive on conflict. It started slow, as most of these types of things do. Hermione came to understand that's how people become trapped; they are eased into submission.

Ron was always a jealous person. Whether it was due to her academics or Harry's fame, he always felt like he got the short end of the stick. Charlie was a renowned Dragon Tamer, Bill was a famous curse breaker, even the twins had a very successful business that was brilliant in its design. Ron, however, only shared their last name. He was an average student, of average intelligence, and a wild temper. All of that combined got worse when he started drinking to cope.

The first night that he hit her she swore it would be the last, but when she floo'd to Harry and Ginny's for comfort, she was quickly reminded of her place in the grand scheme of things. It had been years since she had felt like Hermione Granger: muggleborn. After the war she had become Hermione Granger war heroine, or Hermione Granger soon-to-be Weasley, as the tiny ruby on her left finger promised. Standing in the newly remodeled kitchen of Grimmauld Place, she was hastily reminded that without Ronald Weasley, she had no place among the red-headed family. She could still feel the heat coming off of the emerald eyes of her best friend as he scolded her for her part in the fight.

"You forget Mione, I know how demanding you can be. You can only push someone so far before they push back!"

The continued belittling from her two friends birthed a new thought, and it ravaged her already scattered mind like a virus. Slowly, she began to turn in on herself. Maybe she had antagonized him? She was a bit much after all, hadn't all of her former teachers and schoolmates told her as much? With her tail between her legs, she asked to use Harry's floo, missing the smug grin plastered on Ginny's face. After that night, their fights turned more and more brutal. It was not something Hermione would have imagined for herself. She was a smart woman, it was still hard for her to believe this was what her life had become. Yet a disease had settled, and soon it consumed what was left of the bond between her and Ron.

The worst of it started with late nights at the pub, where he would come home with wrinkled clothes, smelling of cheap perfume. Then it became nights where he would simply not come home at all. After a while Hermione preferred those nights; she wasn't forced to heal herself in the morning. The heavy oak clock above the fireplace chimed the awakening of the new hour, causing Hermione to sigh. Her pacing slowed to a near stop as she looked down at the steady scarlet flames. No matter the distance that had grown between her and her fiance, she couldn't prevent the worry that grew in her nightly. The moment he withdrew his cloak from the metal rack beside the door, donning it without a care in the world, a pit of anxiety would grow inside Hermione's stomach until the moment of his return. She wasn't sure if it was because of what he carried with him upon his return; an anger that would leave her bruised and bloodied on the bathroom floor. Or maybe it was because of the conditioning left behind from years of worrying about him and Harry during the war that she chose not to fight back.

She had been complacent for so many years now that she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had a thought of herself. Since when had she actually enjoyed a weekend away? When had she decided she didn't want a career, a dream replaced by wishing for a full family and days filled with endless cleaning, cooking, and waiting? None of that sounded like her, but here she was, a woman that had a singular life goal: please her husband. She had failed even at that.

The dimming of the crackling fire announced that her husband would soon be home. Was the house clean? Did anything need to be done? Hermione shook her head, trying to get the thoughts to disperse. Who cares? There were things of greater importance in life. The flames dimmed to embers before blazing once more, this time a rich emerald green as Ronald Weasley stumbled out, crashing his hip into the side table in the process. He whirled around to glare at her and she found herself flinching back.

"What the 'ell is this doin' 'ere?" He slurred, swaying as he staggered towards her. "I thought I told you to clean this shithole up, woman." He raised his hand, poised to whip out and smack the side of her head as he had done many times before. He froze, however, when Hermione refused to cower in his presence. His glare turned amused as his head tilted down, eyes alight with a sickening fire and a malicious sneer spreading over his face. "Oh? Is the 'ittle mouse 'bout to be a lion?"

Hermione swallowed, memories swarming to the forefront of her mind of what happened when she didn't listen. "Where were you, Ron?" she tried to speak, but it came out no louder than a whisper.

He tilted his head towards her, the sneer growing wider. "Sorry, did you say somethin' 'ittle mousey?" An eyebrow cocked up at her, daring her to continue.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. "I asked where you were, Ron. It's been hours since you left." The feeling of knuckles and boney fingers connecting with her temple, the force of it cracking her head to the right and stars to form in her vision, caused her to bite the side of her tongue before she dropped to the stone floor.

"WHERE I GO IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS," he bellowed, leaning down to push her face farther into the floor so hard she could feel her teeth cracking, "but since you're a nosey little bitch mouse, I'll tell you. Seems there's going to be a new member of the family, my love, a little bundle of joy."

Hermione tried to make sense of the words around the debilitating pressure rattling her brain. "Ron, I'm not pregnant."

With a loud huff, he grabbed hold of her upper arm, squeezing with so much pressure there would be indents from his fingers as well as the bruises, and hauled her up with her face mere inches from his. The fumes coming off of him reeked of Firewhiskey and muggle Vodka, a dangerous combination to Hermione's already foggy mind.

"Not you, no child from the dried up skank." He shook her violently twice to keep her conscious. "I'm talking about Esmerelda, the most beautiful witch in the world." Hermione distantly recalled that the slag who frequented Knockturn Alley and propositioned every man that walked by was named Esmerelda. "She's going to bring forth a whole new generation of Weasley's, a pureblooded generation worthy of this world. No child from a conniving little bitch like you."

Hermione took a deep breath, the fog in her mind clearing as anger took its place. He left at all hours of the day, to impregnate a random whore? He didn't even work anymore, the alcohol had seen to that. No, he spent his days getting drunk most likely, gaining money from selling stories to the paper of his days of fame, riding it all the way into the abyss. It seemed he didn't just drink away their money, he spent it on side pieces too. It was the final straw.

"Good," Hermione whispered, "maybe then you'll finally leave me in peace."

The actions from that one statement she should have seen coming. The rage and hurt at being made a fool of clouded her judgment, however, and before she knew what was happening, she was falling back to the floor with a hand pressed around her neck. Her head hit the floor at such an angle that the foreboding crack that followed almost made her pass out.

"Leave you in peace? In peace? No, you conniving bitch," he spit as she felt the hand leave her neck and felt a second of relief before a sharp crack alerted her that a pointed toe of his dragonhide shoes had broken a rib. "I'll leave you," he fumed, hauling her back up only to backhand her into the wall, and when she fell to the floor he had his foot poised over her arm, "but I'll leave you in pieces." With more strength than she thought he had, he slammed his foot down and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming as the loud crack of her broken arm resounded around the room.

She must have blacked out after that because the next thing she remembered after the darkness cleared was seeing him poised over stomach glaring at her as if it was her fault he cheated. A bubble of hysteria began to claw its way up her throat, coming out gurgled as it broke up the blood that was actively running down her esophagus.

The sound caused Ron to look at her face, the whites of his eyes tinged red with burst blood vessels, giving him a terrifying presence. "I may not want you little mouse," he crooned as she felt another sharp kick, this time to her abdomen, "but I'll make damn sure no one else will either."

The last thing Hermione remembered before the darkness consumed her was a set of matching warm brown eyes, lit up with amusement and the comforting smell of fireworks.

When Hermione woke, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, the house was bathed in darkness. The only thing she could see was the silhouette of her furniture in the pale glow of the moonlight. Taking a deep breath, she winced as the pain reminded her what had occurred and how broken she was. The pull of the darkness was creeping back, threatening to drag her into its depths. With the last bit of strength she could muster, she flourished her wand and prepared for the pull of apparition. After a moment, she lowered her wand in hesitation.

Where would she go? The Burrow wasn't an option, that had been made extremely clear to her. Grimmauld Place wasn't an option either, if Harry's reaction to their fight was any indication, her current condition would be overlooked. Brown eyes filled with admiration swam back into her mind. The twins. Those brilliant boys would help her.

With the decision made, she flourished her wand again and prepared for the rough travel to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The wards that the twins had up hesitated at letting her through, however her magical signature must have been keyed in since she landed on the floor with a dull thud. She let the fog of exhaustion overtake her as a caterwauling charm blared throughout the store, the volume diminishing as she faded into the black.

A moment later, Fred and George Weasley bustled down the stairs, pulling on clothes as they went, with their wands drawn. Little did they expect to see the war heroine Hermione Granger sprawled out on their floor. George started to make a comment on how drunk she must have been to end up here when they both froze on the spot, noticing the trail of blood coming from the nose and ears of the small witch.

"George!"

"On it, Fred."

Without hesitation, both men circled around the petite witch they had known half their lives, concern etching its way into both of their brows.

"What the fuck happened to her, Fred?" George was sitting on the other side of Hermione, reaching out gently to cradle her head in his lap.

Fred continued to frantically cast spell after spell of diagnostics, trying to get a clear idea of what was going on. "I don't know George. Is she breathing?" Both wizards stopped moving, holding their breath until they heard the small exhale from the girl. Exhaling in relief, Fred continued to cast his spells as George had taken to running his hands over her head gently. Whether he was consoling her or himself, Fred wasn't sure.

When the spells were finished, Fred gave an audible gasp, causing George to wretch his head up in concern. "She…she has a broken humerus in her right arm, it's snapped in about three places. Two of her teeth are cracked, as well as a crack in her skull. She has four…no, six broken ribs. And…" he trailed off as he studied the results, his hand coming to cover his mouth in shocked horror.

"Damn it Fred, what is it! What's wrong?" George was usually the more level headed of the two, but the state of their mutual friend had definitely put him out of sorts.

"She…She has extensive damage to her abdomen, as well as…fuck, as well as her reproductive organs." No other words were needed. The twins looked at each other, silently communicating their worry, their fear, and their decisions. Without a second's hesitation, Fred began doing what he could for Hermione's minor injuries as George sprinted upstairs to floo St. Mungo's.

The sterile white halls of St Mungo's were oddly quiet as Fred and George exited the floo, the green flames dying in their wake. Fred cradled Hermione in his arms, and his worry mounted as he noticed how little she weighed. George rushed ahead, glancing around for a mediwitch, his expression turning agitated when he found no one. "We need some help out here!" he hollered, his hands coming up to cup his mouth.

A petite witch dressed entirely in white, rushed down the hall, her short oak wand held at her side. Her blue eyes were round with surprise as she took in the group huddling together in front of her. Her expression twisted with panic when she looked down at Hermione, and George could see a spark of suspicion there as well. "What happened? What's her name?" she demanded, waving her wand over her shoulder.

A small gray machine on the medi desk behind her lit up, and an alarm sounded; the lights in the hallway above them shined a blinding white. The loud commotion of shuffling feet sounded, like a multitude of shoes on linoleum, and the twins winced in unison.

"Her name is Hermione Granger, and I'm Fred Weasley and this is my brother George. She showed up at our flat; we're not sure what happened. We ran a few diagnostics and they came back…she has a wide range of injuries," Fred said, gently maneuvering Hermione closer to his chest.

A group of mediwitches and wizards, clad in white came around the corner, like avenging angels, wands drawn in preparation. One of the medi witches pushed a hospital cot forward, and the petite witch nodded toward Hermione, the corner of her eyes wrinkled with severity. "We have a young witch with multiple injuries. It appears she apparated under duress. These gentlemen attempted some minor healing," she relayed.

The nearest mediwizard lifted his wand, gently levitating Hermione from Fred's arms, and his hands dropped to his sides as he felt her weight disappear. A knot of anxiety grew in his chest, and he could feel the same sense of unease growing in George, without thinking, he reached out and took hold of his twin's shoulder just as he lunged forward, fear overwhelming him. The mediwitch watched them with narrowed eyes, her brows furrowed. Hermione was carefully lowered onto the cot, and hastily glided down the hall, multiple wands waving in complicated patterns above her. Both Fred and George made to follow, standing as close as humanly possible, seeking comfort from one another, as nerves threatened to overwhelm them. Their trek was quickly stopped by the petite mediwitch, her perfectly manicured hand was lifted in front of them, her nose wrinkled, face twisted with malice. "I'm not sure where the two of you think you're going, but it's sure as hell not with the abused witch you brought in here."

Fred's freckled face paled, and the normally lively expression he wore was drained of life in an instant. Abused? His mind flashed back to the moment he had seen the brightest witch of the age, broken and bloody on his bright orange storefront floor. He had been too shocked at that moment to think about what could have happened to put her in that state. Now, with a mediwitch standing in front of him, blue accusatory eyes searching his and his twin's face for evidence of an act he couldn't even fathom, he was forced to consider who could have hurt her. George turned to look at him, and he knew that his twin had come up with the same answer he had; Ron. Fred lifted his hands in surrender, backing away from the mediwitch to further make his point.

"I can promise you, love, that we had nothing to do with what happened to Hermione."

George stepped up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "What my twin meant to say was we would never hurt Hermione. She's important to us both, and we brought her here as soon as we could. All we want is to know that she's safe, can you even imagine how we feel right now?"

The mediwitch crossed her arms petulantly, lips pursed. "Be that as it may, I can not allow you near her. It's the rules Mr Weasleys'. I feel she is in danger and you are not legally her family. If she awakens and tells me differently, then you may see her. Until then I recommend you contact a member of her immediate family." With a sharp tilt of her chin, the witch turned on her heel and headed down the hall.

George solemnly walked over to the wall and pressed his back against it, sliding down in a defeated heap. Fred stepped in front of him, lowering to his knees and placed his hand atop his twin's shoulder. "She'll be okay, Gred," he said with a lopsided smile that cracked on arrival. George looked up, a strand of red hair falling into his lifeless brown eyes.

"Are you sure about that? She was just so…broken. I've never seen her like that before. She is always so strong."

Fred lowered to the floor and scooted next to George, his head falling against the wall with a rough thump. "It's Hermione, George. There is nothing she can't overcome."

George cocked his head to glance at his twin. "Fred," he whispered, "did we do this?"

Fred fought the bile rising at the thought with a harsh swallow. "I don't know, George, but we're going to fix it."

The twins sat silently beside each other, seeking comfort subconsciously as their minds trailed off, lost in the memories that brought them to this moment.

Fred and George Weasley would say they had led a very normal life, thank you very much. Being on the outside from most of their family left them with a knack for being extremely observant. It's easy to watch when you're not included, right? Most days were wonderful; they had managed to open up their very own shop, which was a booming success, and loved their life.

For the past month, however, and possibly even father back, they had become concerned about one of their friends. The one and only Hermione Granger. A spitfire of a witch, and bloody brilliant to boot. The fiery little witch just wasn't herself.

A few weeks ago, Ron the prat was spouting how much fun they'd had watching the Chudley Cannons that weekend. Hermione even piped up with how great it was and that she couldn't wait to go to see more matches since they had bought season passes for the both of them.

Alone, that may not seem weird, but this wasn't the only out of character occurrence, and besides, this was Hermione who hated quidditch and found it extremely boring. The twins had tried to convince her many a time back in Hogwarts to come watch them play and she had always politely declined.

Then there was the time George remembered when their mother had brought out her famous Gooseberry Pie at Sunday dinner. Hermione had been reaching for a slice when Ron, the bloody prat she was dating, piped up, reminding her that she was watching her figure. She put the slice back! Her favorite pie in the world, and she just let it go without a fight. Not to mention Ron basically calling her fat, which wasn't anywhere near the truth. She was practically skin and bones.

Many other things had occurred over the years, all of them together painting an unsightly picture. Deciding to figure it out, they popped over to get the witch alone for once. Which was another issue. Ron never left her side in public, even started speaking for her. Utterly ridiculous.

Sunday morning found them pounding on the door of the Granger and Weasley residence, even though it was Hermione who had purchased the flat. The witch in question slowly opened the door, peeking her head out hesitantly.

"Oh," she called out softly, "boys. How wonderful to see you."

"Why hello there Granger, and how are you on this beautiful morning?" Fred crooned, not at all liking the fact that Hermione wouldn't meet his eye. "Are you free?"

Hermione's eyes widened only an iota, but it was enough that Fred shared a glance with George, who nodded in return. Something wasn't right. Hermione glanced back inside the house, only to back up and disappear from view. A second later, the tall and lanky form of their little brother appeared.

Ron inclined his head as a way of greeting and grunted out, "What do you two want?"

Classy.

"We're here to borrow your girlfriend, brother dear. It's a production emergency of the highest order!" George exclaimed, taking over while Fred tried to tame his temper.

The tips of Ron's ears flamed as he squinted at the pair. "Fiance. Not girlfriend. Don't forget that. Now, what do you need her for?"

"Uh, hello, brightest witch of our age? Of course we need her!"

"We need to make sure out stuff is stable-"

"And legal, since we aren't sure-"

"What the current laws state. Who else to help us-"

"Than Hermione Granger!"

Ron's eyes were tracking back and forth, trying to keep track between their twin babble. It wasn't that bad. Honestly. They understood each other perfectly fine. His jaw clenched before he grunted again. "Yes. Sure. Whatever. I'll let you take her out for a bit."

Fred's temper started to rise again. Let her? She's her own bloody person. Why would she need permission? He gave a short nod, not wanting the fire in his belly to come out in words.

A few moments passed and then Hemione was exiting the small flat she called home, still not looking at either twin. Worried glances passed between the two before George held out his arm in invitation. Hermione's eyes tracked back and forth in thought before she gingerly laid a hand on his arm, allowing them to apparate her safely into their flat.

George took a moment to admire the petite witch at his side. Where was Hermione Granger? Her warm and caramel eyes were dull and faded. Her skin was so tight that her cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut through her pale skin. Even her hair, Hermione's trademark, wasn't full of its usual luster. It hung limp and listless, all the shine and volume sucked out with the rest of her. What the hell was going on?

"Alright Hermione, what we have for you is top secret, it is."

"Aye Forge, the greatest invention yet! Wouldn't you say so, Gred?"

"Aye, that I would. Spectacular. It is missing something though."

A sprinkle of magic from the most brilliant witch should do the trick, Gred."

"I think you're right, Forge."

Was that…a smile? The tiniest smile graced Hermione's lips as she listened to their back and forth manner. When they were finished, she simply nodded. "Where do you need me?"

The boys led her down the staircase and into the workroom at the back of the shop, leaving her alone at the table with a cauldron boiling and a book at her side. Sharing another glance, they headed out into the shop and applied a quick Mullfiato around them.

"George, she looks bad. Like really bad. How did we never notice?" Fred was almost frantic, pacing back and forth.

"I don't know Fred. Whoever that witch is in there, it's not Hermione. It's like she's just a shell of her former self," George placated, trying to calm down his twin even as his own heart was racing in fear, "I'm gonna shoot a quick diagnostic over her. Keep her distracted?"

Fred stopped pacing and smiled. "Oh, it would be my pleasure."

They headed back into the workroom and Fred stationed himself beside Hermione, trying to draw her out by asking a myriad of questions. Behind the two, George was subtly pulling out his wand. The diagnostic, however, was worse than they could have imagined. Catching his twin's eye, they made their way out of the room to speak alone.

"Well, what did you find?"

"Fred…there's like, 3 unknown potions coursing through her system. I have no idea what they're for, but they've been there a while. Long term dosing. No wonder she isn't herself! That's insane and deadly."

Fred was gaping at him in shock. Swallowing, he found his voice. "What do we do?"

"Remember that time we were trying to create a Finite into potion form to ward off any ailments?"

"You mean the one that we could take if any of our self tests went wrong? Yeah, what about it?"

"Did we ever finish?"

Fred grinned at him, already 3 steps ahead. Tonight at family dinner, they'd slip the potion into her drink, resolving her symptoms and bringing their Hermione back.

The loud crunching of ice jolted Fred from his reverie, and he turned to see an old woman floating by in her wheelchair, a styrofoam cup pressed against her chin as she munched crushed ice. She hovered about an inch off the ground, and a young mediwizard followed behind her, his wand pointed at the chair as they idly walked down the hall. Her wrinkled cheeks dimpled in a deep smile as they passed, lips wet and fingers wiggling in a merry wave. George chuckled, and Fred elbowed him as he stood, his arms stretching out above him.

"Look who's popular with the old birds," George said.

Fred turned and pointed at the sly smirk on his lips. "We share the same face, oh twin of mine. If she's interested in one of us, odds are she's interested in both," he said, brows wagging.

George's face scrunched into a grimace of disgust and he shivered in revulsion. "I'll pass; twincest isn't my thing."

Fred laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "But the age difference isn't a problem?"

George grinned, his eyes shining with mirth. "Riper the berry and all that, as the muggles say."

The white double doors down the hall shuddered, and a tall mediwizard wearing a surgical mask stained with scarlet blood pushed through, his head lowered. His blue eyes were heavy with exhaustion as he continued down the hall, pulling off the mask and tossing it in a red waste bin on his left. Fred felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and his chest felt heavy as he fought to breath at a normal pace. The man lifted his head, and his eyes grew large with surprise to find the twins standing at the end of the hall. He folded his hands in front of him, a genuine kindness growing in his eyes like a bluebell flame. "Is there something I can do to assist you? Are you awaiting information on someone?" he asked.

George jumped at the offer, his body literally bounding forward, his hands coming up in a sort of plea. "Yes! Hermione Granger, sir. Is she okay? We brought her in a few hours ago."

Fred took hold of his twin's arm and gently pulled him back but he wore the same plea for information on his face. The mediwizard released a deep sigh, his exhausted eyes wrinkling in sadness. "Miss. Granger, yes. That one is a fighter. We worked for quite a long time on her, but even magic has her limits. I am sorry to be the one to inform you that she is currently in a magically induced coma. To be honest, I am not sure what condition she will be in when her body is ready to be woken."

Fred felt his knees quaking and George took hold of his elbow, supporting his weight as he looked at the mediwizard expectantly. "Her injuries…what…can you tell us exactly what you had to do?"

The mediwizard gestured toward the end of the hall wearing a strained smile that made his exhaustion all the more evident. "Let's take this to the waiting room? It's far more comfortable there and I think we could all use a coffee."

It was a quick walk to the waiting room, and apart from an old man sleeping with his head pressed against the far wall, the room was empty. The mediwizard led the twins to a scratched up wood table, and pulled out the two nearest chairs. "Take a seat, I'll grab us some coffee. Sugar and cream?" he asked, looking at the boys with questioning eyes.

Fred nodded on behalf of them both and the wizard left, walking over to the coffee machine. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a few sickles and knuts before inserting them and punching the buttons with a tired yawn. He returned with three styrofoam cups filled with the steaming caffeinated beverage, and Fred quickly grabbed the two cups, handing George his with a wince as a drop splashed on his hand. The mediwizard sat down with a sigh and rubbed his hand down his lined face. "Miss Granger…her injuries were rather severe I'm afraid."

George swallowed roughly, his hands clasping onto the warm styrofoam cup like a lifeline. He felt Fred's stress matching his own, and saw him lean forward from the corner of his eye. "She had several broken bones, not to mention the injuries to her reproductive organs, but the worst stemmed from the swelling on her brain. As I mentioned before, we were forced to put her in a magically induced coma in order for her to have any chance of survival. We also gave her blood replenishing potions to counteract the blood loss and Skele-Gro to heal the breaks."

George's jaw lowered as if he was trying to speak but all he could produce was a pained noise of defeat — the sound similar to that of an injured animal. The medi wizards eyes warmed in understanding, and he patted the table. "She is a very strong witch, boys. I am sure she will come out of this…alive."

It was a weak attempt at comfort but it was comfort all the same, and the twins appreciated the effort. The medi wizard looked at them again, shifting in his seat. "Boys, there's something else I need to ask you. I need you to be completely honest with me."

Fred looked at his twin in confusion at the serious tone from the wizard before them. He turned and regarded him just as seriously. "Anything to help Hermione."

With a deep sigh, the healer uttered a sentence they never saw coming. "Boys, do you know of any reason for Miss Granger to have an obedience potion, a long term calming draught, and a low level Amortentia in her system?"

He had to be joking. They knew there were a multitude of potions in her system…but they never imagined it would be those. They went from confused, to anxious, to furious. "Sir. If you're insinuating that we had something to do with this…"

"Not at all, I can see the genuine care that you have for the young woman. However, these potions have been in her system for a long time, I'd safely estimate over 5 years at the least. These had to come from someone she knew well or trusted." He pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. "These were no basic level potions either. Someone was very adept in Potions to attempt something like this."

The wizard rose and drained the rest of his coffee. "If you'll excuse me; I have other patients I must attend to."

With that, Fred and George were left alone with nothing but the dreadful thoughts swimming through their minds. Their thoughts went to Ron first; he was the most likely culprit for her injuries. The potions though…Ron was a moron, especially at Potions. Everyone knew that.

They sat in silence as they began to put the pieces together. After a few minutes, George let out an astonished gasp. "What is it Georgie, what did you figure out?" Fred was obviously distressed and his voice was bordering on frantic.

"Fred. Do you remember back in 4th year during the Triwizard Tournament? Mum was all torn up at Hermione supposedly dating Harry, she even shut her out. That thing with Krum too. Wasn't it just after that Hermione started getting weekly parcels of sweets from Mum?"

Fred's eyebrows pinched together in thought. He remembered Mum being antagonistic towards Hermione. He remembered the way she looked in her periwinkle blue dress as she twirled around the dance floor. He remembered the way his heart both sped up and slowed down all at once at the sight of her. Shaking his head, he returned to the present and eyed his twin levelly. "George…do you think Mum…"

"You heard the doctor, Freddie. Someone she knew. Someone she trusted. Ron is an idiot. Mum, however, is very good at potions." George felt the fire begin to build inside him, swirling around his gut and clenching his heart. "Freddie, what do you say about a quick visit to Mum?"

Fred was trying to catch his breath, obviously as distraught as his twin at the discovery. "I'd say it's long overdue."

The twins stood up together, stone faced as their anger began to boil over. After asking a healer behind the desk to inform them if Hermione woke up, they apparated on the spot; a crack as loud as thunder was left in their wake.

Molly Weasley was enjoying the quiet Sunday evening now that dinner with the family was over. She glided her way into a pleasant dance around the kitchen, humming a random tune as she cleaned every surface to her liking. Once the dishes were hovering over the sink, bobbing as they cleaned themselves, she bustled over to her favorite chair to start her nightly knitting.

Rocking back and forth absently as she worked, she smiled to herself. She had to be prepared for the little ones that were sure to be coming soon to the family. With Ginny taking care of Harry and Ron having Hermione under his thumb, it was only a matter of time.

A loud crack that rattled the double pane windows interrupted her peace, jolting her from her chair as she frantically glanced towards the clock. All was as it should be, everyone was in their proper place. Except, it wasn't. It now showed that the twins went from out to home. This home.

"Everything all right, dear?" Arthur said as he entered through the door that led to the garden and his shed, "I thought I heard quite a commotion."

Before Molly could reply to her husband, the front door opened and slammed against the wall violently. She turned in shock and saw the twins standing in the doorway, a formidable force as they presented a unified front, their normally warm brown eyes alight with a ferocious fire from deep within.

"Oh, boys…" she remarked hesitantly, approaching them slowly as one does a trapped predator, "I didn't expect to see you back here tonight. Is everything alright?"

George stepped past the threshold first, his gaze falling over her shoulder to take in the slumped form of his father. Arthur stood, hovering near the staircase with his head lowered like a submissive pup. Molly was shocked to see a faint shimmer of pity flicker across George's face, and she stashed that away for further perusal. Fred's jaw tightened as he stalked into the room, slamming the door shut behind him with a wild slash of his wand.

"Is everything alright?" Fred asked with a cold laugh; his tone was dry and the laugh was devoid of any emotion.

Molly tilted her head, a motherly smile filled with sweet confusion painted on her face as if it had been born there. She wore the apron of motherhood well, but the twins were starting to see past the mask. As much as it saddened them, they realized that she was just as good at browbeating and emotionally blackmailing her children as she was at mothering them. Behind the faux concern in her eyes, both twins could see the gears turning; she was always plotting and looking for weaknesses to twist and turn others to bend to her will. Their father, their poor father, stood by and watched as she tried to railroad them into submission.

"Do you realize where we've spent the majority of our night, Mum?" Fred coldy asked.

Molly spared a single glance to her precious clock and turned back to look at them with that poisonously sweet smile in place. "Well, I'd assume the two of you were out and about. No mortal peril as I see you both standing here unharmed."

"We were with Hermione, mum," George whispered, his voice as hard as steel, "getting her help after our sweet baby brother tried to murder her."

Oh pish, whyever would you say such a thing? Did she tell you that herself? Probably went out and said something to the wrong person." Molly sniffed in indifference, her expression never once going towards concern.

"Aren't you supposed to be beside yourself with worry? Forcing motherly care on her like you did the rest of us and Harry?" Fred exclaimed. He couldn't believe they had just told their mother that Hermione was almost murdered and she didn't even blink. He knew she had to be behind the potions, but it wasn't until that moment that he truly believed it.

Molly eyed them severely. "That girl has always bitten off more than she can chew. It was honestly just a matter of time. I never really did understand the 'brightest witch of the age' moniker."

George reared back as if he had been slapped, and his face twisted in detestation. They watched their mother move into the kitchen and make herself busy with wiping away imaginary crumbs from the table, the muggle way — something she never did unless cornered. Fred stepped around the table, meeting Molly head-on as she tried to escape into the living room. George joined him, blocking her other escape. Fred looked down at his mother, his nose wrinkled with revulsion, he had never thought he would feel nauseated by the very sight of the woman who had given him life, but as he stared into her brown eyes, his stomach jolted with bile.

"Hermione wasn't able to say anything mum, she is in a magically induced coma. Ron nearly did her in. We found her half dead on our store room floor," Fred said.

George leaned close, anger sparking in his eyes, the same color as his mothers — one of the only connections he felt like he had left with her. "I'm only going to ask you this once, Mum, so pay attention. Did you or did you not dose Hermione with obedience potions all these years?"

Molly bristled before their eyes, stopping her charade of cleaning the table to turn towards them. There was a new look to her they had never seen before — wild. Unhinged. Someone who wouldn't go down without a fight.

"I would rethink whatever it was you were about to lie about," Fred spat from his place by the stairs, "we already don't believe it. How about the truth for once?" Fred gestured over to their father, who had been silent this entire conversation. "Or maybe I can just ask dad, unless you've done the same to him. On second thought, scratch that. You did."

Molly moved closer to them as slow as a panther stalking out its next kill. "Now you listen to me boys. Everything I have ever done was for this family. Everything." She began to gesture her arms around wildly in frustration. "Harry was easy, that boy just went along with whoever would hug him the most. Of course, he had to get dosed just to keep him loyal to Ginny and not that weepy Ravenclaw bitch. Not even to mention that Death Eater spawn."

She began pacing back and forth now, every bit as savage as a caged animal. Arthur even began to slowly back out of the room, unnoticed. "Hermione though, oh no, that girl just couldn't get in line if it was drawn out for her. First that little tet a tet with Harry. And then that Krum bloke fawning all over her. Oh no, that just wouldn't do. The trio had to stay together. Ron was happy to pick up the slack."

Fred and George looked at each other helplessly. Who the hell was this woman in front of them? The mother they thought they knew was long gone, lost in her own mind of fantasies.

"She was too much of a wild card, that girl. When Dumbledore approached me about Ron being an option to tie her to the cause, I knew what needed to be done. That stubborn little bitch was so happy to have some motherly affection she didn't even question the little sweets I started sending her. Pathetic."

Molly whirled around suddenly, eyes wild. "Arthur don't you dare think I don't see you sneaking off over there. You will stay and be with your family! Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you didn't listen to me?"

The boys turned slowly to see their father flinch, his hands flexing toward his crotch, and walk back into the kitchen with his head tilted down in submission. "Now…boys…as I said, everything I have done has been for the good of this family. Are you still part of this family?"

"What if we say no Mum, what are you going to do? Dose two of the finest

Potioneers of the century?" George looked at his mother with nothing but contempt. He leaned in close to her, Fred ready behind him for a quick escape. "If I ever see you within a city limit of Hermione again, you're not going to have to worry about a silly little potion. See, Freddie and me, we're too smart for that. You'd never see us coming. Stay away from Hermione. Stay away from Harry."

"Stay away from Harry? Ginny and Harry are happy, boys. I will not have you ruining their perfect marriage. That's not the answer I was looking for," she cooed softly, "there's no reason to get mad…"

"Oh no Mum, that's the thing. We're not mad. Put off, upset, and worried, yes. Mad, however…" Fred leaned closer to George, wrapping his hand around his twin's wrist, "you can't even imagine what we're capable of when we're angry."

With a loud crack, the twins were gone, leaving a whirlwind of chaos in their wake.

One day turned into two, then two into three, and soon it had been a week of Hermione lying motionless in room 203. Even the monotony of the busy shop couldn't keep the twins out of their own heads, worry for the little witch permeating every aspect of their life. It had been an entire day since either of the twins had been able to lay their eyes on her. She was very nearly healed, but you could still see what she had endured; her body took to the blows like the aftershocks of a massive storm.

Some days the boys would just sit by her while she laid silently in her off-white cot, the rise and fall of her chest the only indication of life and be convinced it was enough for now. Then there were the days where only one of them was able to leave the shop to see her. After a rigorous game of exploding snap to decide who would go, the losing twin would spend the day staring at their wand off and on, just anxiously waiting in hope for the vibration that would alert him that she had awoken. Saturday, in George's opinion, was now the worst day of the week. There were no visiting hours in the ICW on Saturdays. Nothing could comfort them on Saturdays.

George looked up and his gaze was drawn to the bright colorful storefront that he and his brother had created together. The different shades of color and the outrageous shapes reminded him much of the muggle painter Pablo Picasso. He glanced around, pride swelling inside of his chest despite the stress that now followed him daily like a led weight. As his gaze traveled, he found an anxious Fred helping a herd of Hogwarts aged children huddled around the Pygmy Puff enclosure. His frantic brown eyes were darting from left to right, and his expression was wild with a plea for help. A young blonde girl with braided pigtails was attached to his leg, swinging from side to side as she sang a song about the purple Pygmy she was demanding. George listened intently and was delighted to find out his name was to be Thrandy.

Thrandy is our King!

He's a little bit gruff,

But loved by the fluffs,

Thrandy is our King!

George laughed when he saw the girl's mother bolt from the other side of the store, he was amused to find her coming from the direction of the Daydream Charms. He would be sure to drop a free sample in her bag, for Thrandy's sake. A happy mother is good for everyone. Turning toward the stockroom, he stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden buzzing in his robe pocket. With rounded eyes, he hastily reached for his wand, his heart pounding in his chest — it almost seemed to match the steady buzzing. With his wand in hand the vibrating slowed, until finally with a single flick of the auburn wood, it stopped all together. A bubble appeared in the air, and the face of the on-charge mediwitch appeared within. "Hello, Mr. Weasleys, I have been asked by Miss Hermione Granger to alert you that she has awoken. If you wish to speak with her, please come tomorrow for visiting hours. Remember! Hours are between 8 and 5. Thank you, and have a pleasant day."

At the end of her upbeat message, the bubble popped, and George was left, mouth agape, to stare into the empty air. Blinking rapidly, his mind snapped back to reality, and he turned swiftly to search out his twin. He slapped his hand down onto the counter and lifted up the flip-up top, stepping into the center of the store. As he hurried into the crowd, he arched his neck to better see. Smiling in satisfaction, he bounded forward, spotting Fred near the Skiving Snackboxes. He hastily maneuvered around the animated group of exhausted parents and exuberante children, hands lifted above him. When he finally neared his brother, he shook out his hand, and his wand popped back into view. With new-found excitement, he hopped up and down enthusiastically to draw his twin's attention. It only took Fred a few seconds to look up and spot George, and when he did, he cocked his brow with an amused smile — noticing his brother bouncing around like a rabbit. His smile dimmed the moment he caught the meaningful light in George's eye, and then his gaze was drawn to the way he wiggled his wand. His chest shuddered as he gasped out in relief; Hermione was awake.

Sunlight began to peek through the curtains, alerting George that he should already be up and moving. Snuggling deeper into his pillow, he gave his wand a quick flick and cast a tempus charm. With a deep groan at the 7:15 shining in front of him, he cast his blankets to the side and slid out of bed. He rolled his shoulders as he stood and stretched his lithe form. Two hours of restless sleep was less than he planned for, but it was expected. His mind drifted to Hermione throughout the night. Roaming over to his dresser, he donned a simple cotton t-shirt and sweatpants. Muggles really did have some amazing ideas.

Rubbing his hand down his face in exhaustion, he ambled over to the door that led out to the living space. Looking to his left, he noticed that Fred wasn't awake yet. Well, that left him time for tea. He was nervous to see the little witch again, especially after his lascivious dreaming. Just as he was heating the water with a charm, Fred walked out of his door sluggishly with his eyes closed.

"Want a cuppa, Freddie?"

Fred nodded slowly in approval, clearly not awake yet. "Oh Georgie, when was the last time we were up before 10? Not to mention the shite sleep I just attempted." He slid into the seat at the island in the kitchen, wrapped his hands around the cup of hot Earl Gray, and took a deep inhale. "Honey and milk in here right?"

George scoffed in reply. "Our little witch tainted my senses. No other way to drink it, brother of mine." Taking a sip from his own cup, he closed his eyes in pleasure. It really was an amazing way to drink such strong tea. "Almost ready to go?" he questioned his twin.

"No. I'm not awake. I'm still in my bed, burrowed deep in the warmth. Leave me be."

"I know what will get you moving."

"Fat chance, brother."

"It's 7:59 am. Time to go see our witch."

Fred was up and out of his chair, grabbing a handful of Floo powder before George got the chance to even stand from his seat.

Arriving at the hospital, the twins were equally anxious to see Hermione. She had plagued their thoughts for so long; long before the accident. As long as she was okay, everything would be all right. They just had to get their hands on her to make sure.

After verbally accosting the mediwitch that tried to keep them in the waiting room, they found themselves at the door of Room 203. With a glance at each other, they both took a deep breath, exhaled, and knocked on the door.

The moment Hermione opened her eyes, she knew something wasn't quite right; her body felt numb. Her fingers, toes, and even her lips prickled like they were filled with static electricity. Her eyes struggled to adjust to her new environment, the very air around her appeared too bright. It took all her strength just to move her fingers, but thankfully, she was able to scoot her hand around and almost gasped in relief when she felt something plastic near her wrist. Jerking her hand, she was able to pull down the little call button until it rested in the palm of her hand. Squinting in exhaustion, she pressed the button, and a blaring alarm went off — the red light above her door blinked rapidly.

As she laid there, her mind trying and failing to reproduce what had led her to obviously being placed in the hospital, she heard the hasty scuttling of shoes on linoleum. Two medi witches bolted into her room, their wands raised and eyes wide with shock. That told Hermione one of two things, either she was not supposed to be awake or she had been far more injured than her mind wished to remember. As the witches surrounded her, she felt the traitorous tears threaten to spill over, her eyes burning with their arrival. As she stared up at the two medi witches, she realized it might very well be both.

"Miss Granger! Great Merlin. We feared you might never wake. How are you feeling?" the first witch asked, Adalaide, if her name tag was to be believed.

Hermione swallowed down her grief, only then realizing how bone dry her mouth was. Pressing her hand to her throat, she winced. The second witch, released a startled sound of surprise and headed toward the door, looking over her shoulder with a kind smile. "How silly we are. Of course you're thirsty. I'll be right back."

Adalaide looked down at Hermione with a small smile, lifting her dark gray wand into the air. "Why don't I check you over while Missy gets you something to drink, hmm?"

Hermione struggled to sit up but Adalaide simply clicked her tongue in reprimand, shaking her head. "Ah, ah, let's not move around until the Doctor has a look at you. You've been asleep for a little over a week, my dear."

Hermione felt her stomach jolt at the new information. Over a week? How is that possible; what happened to her? An understanding smile was the only answer to her questions. Adalaide waved her wand in small circles above Hermione's prone form, brow furrowed in thought. After a few spells that Hermione had tried and failed to follow, Adelaide lowered her wand, her forehead wet with perspiration. "All I can say is you look to be healing well. The rest will have to wait for the doctor. I'm afraid," she said.

Before Hermione could conjure a single sentence, the second medi witch(that Hermione now knew as Missy) pulled open the door, arms laden with a tray. Hermione eyed her warily, noticing the plastic jug of water and two red potion jars. Hermione grimaced at the sight of the potions. She hated taking potions that had been created by an unknown source. Missy sat down the tray, her doe eyes crinkling at the corners as she filled a paper cup with water. "I just bet this will be the best cup of aqua you have ever had!" she said, and her chipper voice grated on Hermione's already frayed nerves.

Grinning awkwardly, Hermione accepted the cup, doing all she could to keep from crushing it in her numb hands. "I bet," she croaked, trying to be kind, despite the pit in her stomach.

Missy hovered next to Hermione's bed even after she had finished her cup of water. Hermione tried not to take her frustration out on the witches helping her, but the last thing she needed was a bubbly and high pitched voice penetrating her mind. Her head already felt like it was unraveling, and the nurses' grating tone didn't help matters. Hermione laid back down, pulling the covers to her chin, and watched the two witches watch her. Adalaide pushed the overbed table toward Hermione, her eyes narrowed. "Now, I saw the way you eyed the potions when Missy brought them in, but you must take them. You are still on a potions regiment and until the Healer clears you, I am duty bound to ensure you take them."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and took hold of the first maroon bottle, holding the spine as if it were a ticking time bomb. "A blood Replenisher and…." Hermione took hold of the second bottle, this one was a darker more ominous red, like blood. "...Repro Repair?" Hermione asked, and a deep wrinkle appeared between her brows.

She felt a tug on her memory, she had heard of that particular potion before, but it was like her brain was fighting the knowledge just like it was fighting against remembering what had led to her stay at St Mungos. Missy whimpered low in her throat, a sound that Hermione had always related to injured animals. Adelaide reached forward and patted the hand still clasped to the ominous bottle. "It's best to just take it, dear. The Healer will explain the rest. Just know it's necessary."

Hermione felt a haughty expression flicker across her face, and she laid back against her pillow, sniffing. "I will never take a potion I know nothing about. I don't even know who made these?" she said, gesturing toward the table. "Who is your Potioneer?"

Missy sighed, stepping around the bed to adjust Hermione's pillows with a severe look of concern on her face. Adalaide lifted the Blood Replenisher off the tray and pulled out the cork with a swift pop, her gaze never leaving Hermione's face. "Our Potioneer may not be the famed Severus Snape, but she is renowned in her own right. I assure you, Miss Granger, that your medicines are of the best quality." Adelaide handed over the bottle, her head tilted in challenge.

Hermione released an annoyed huff of breath, and with a wrinkled nose, took the potion with a snap of her wrist — downing it in its entirety. The taste was bitter on her tongue, but no different than the potions she had been given at Hogwarts — the ones she knew were created by Severus Snape himself. The witch took the bottle back from Hermione with an impish grin, her eyes lit up with humor. The light that had sparked in her eyes died as she lifted the second potion, and it was as if all of the air in the room was siphoned out as she handed it over.

Hermione stared at the blood red bottle, and fear swam in her eyes as she took hold of it. There was something significant about this bottle that she still couldn't place, and it frightened her. Pulling forth her buried courage, she drank the sickly sweet brew, licking her lips afterward. With her face scrunched up into a grimace of distaste, she handed Adlaide the empty bottle. The two witches smiled in relief, and Missy stepped around the bed to gather the now empty tray, leaving behind the jug of water for Hermione. Adelaide swished her wand, casting a Tempus to check the time, and Hermine was surprised to see it was 10:00 pm on a Sunday. "The Healer will stop by in the morning during his rounds to see you. Is there anyone you would like me to contact?" she asked.

Hermione's stomach lurched as her mind conjured the image of her freckled faced fiance, and suddenly she realized what must have happened. Her heart stammered in her chest, a panicked staccato, and her mouth dried. She reached for the jug of water as her mind stumbled through her options; thankfully Adalaide stood by silently, her expression filled with understanding. Dual sets of brown eyes, followed by musical laughter flooded her mind, temporarily soothing her tattered soul. She looked up at the medi witch after finishing her second cup of water. "Yes. Could you contact Fred and George Weasley? They have a joke shop in Diagon Alley."

The witch smiled and for once it calmed Hermione's senses. "Of course. I do believe the Messrs Wealsey have already put in a request to be alerted when you wake up, now that I have your permission, I can give them a buzz," she said, her eyes twinkling with a joke Hermione wasn't in on. It felt very much on brand for a discussion about the Weasley twins. "Now, why don't you lay back and get some sleep. You have a big morning ahead of you."

With that, the witch left Hermione alone to the tattered remains of her thoughts. So much for a good night's rest.

The next morning, a knock at the door awakened her. Sure that it was those damned nurses to shove more potions down her throat, she groaned. 'Why can't they just let me sleep?' she thought to herself. Yelling for them to enter, she closed her eyes and burrowed down into the bed. If they wanted her to wake up, they'd have to drag her out. The sound of the door opening was solitary; she didn't hear the squeak of their shoes coming closer.

"Maybe we should come back later."

"Aye twin, she needs her rest."

Hermione's eyes flew open as she pushed the scratchy blanket off of her. Sitting up too quickly, she let out a gasp of pain, shutting her eyes as she took a deep breath.

"Hermione! Are you okay, love?"

She slowly opened her eyes to see twin sets of brown eyes riddled with worry looking back at her. Looking at them, it was as if she had taken her first breath of life. Her heart swelled in a manner that she lost touch with since her school days. The twin lopsided grins told her they had felt the same thing.

She didn't even get to say a word as those traitorous tears made a comeback, a sob working its way out with them. Both boys immediately surrounded her. George was standing near her head and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head while Fred sat down on the side of her bed and grasped her hand in his.

They were here and that was all that mattered. For the next few hours they sat and talked, telling each other all that they had missed in the years apart. Fred filled her in on how extensive her injuries were while George absentmindedly played with a stray curl. They never left her side, always comforting her in some manner of way, taking turns between talking and reassuring.

Hermione turned at the knock against the door frame to see a healer smiling at her. Nodding her head in acceptance, the healer crossed the threshold to her bedside.

"Hello Miss Granger, my name is Jakob and I'm the lead healer here in the trauma wing. It's a pleasure to see you doing so well!" He smiled down at her as he read the diagnostic charm he spelled over her. "Most of your injuries are clearing up nicely, but you'll be sure to have some soreness for about a week." He moved to stand closer to her, voice lowering incrementally. "Miss Granger, there is also a matter we need to speak on in private."

Fred and George began to bristle beside her, but backed down when she lifted a hand to deter them. "Healer…Jakob was it? Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of the twins. They're my family and will always be welcome." She raised an eyebrow, daring the healer to disagree with her. She caught Fred swallowing a snort that he tried to disguise as a cough.

Healer Jakob's smile didn't falter in the slightest. "If you're absolutely sure Ma'am, I don't have a problem with them being here at all." Reaching behind him, he pulled over the chair against the wall to sit next to her. "We found many things during your healing process. I'm sure the boys have already informed you of the condition you were in when you got here." He noticed the twins nodding on her other side. "We found many potions in your system, but the most concerning was that of a powerful obedience potion and also a weak Amortentia potion. Do you have any idea who the potions were keyed in to?"

"From what Fred and George have told me, yes, the potions were keeping me loyal to Ronald Weasley, their little brother. I still can't believe I was dating him in the first place."

"Oh no Hermione, you were more than dating. You were engaged to the prat."

Hermione stared unblinkingly at George's comment. "We're going to come back to that. You said you found many things, so I'm guessing there's more, Healer?"

Jakob nodded at her in reply. "Yes ma'am. This part may be more difficult for you to swallow. It seems that you're soul bonded, but not to your Fiance."

"I'm sorry, did you say soul bonded? Like soulmates?"

"Yes ma'am I did. In the magical world, it's a bit different than the muggles take on it. Your magical core recognizes another magical core as its perfect match. You, however, continue to be a special case. You have two soul bonds. Two identical soul bonds."

He cast a quick glance at the twins at their place beside his charge. It made sense if he thought about it. He was only a year older than them and saw the interactions from the duo in school. If Hermione was there, the twins were never far behind. She was the only one who could ever get through to them, and if he remembered correctly, she could always tell them apart. He attested the soul bond to all of these factors. Hermione was a powerful witch; it only made sense that her magical signature would be large enough to need two equally powerful wizards to level her magic out. The trio would do amazing things for this world.

"Please correct me if I'm wrong Healer, but it seems that you're insinuating that the twins are both my soulmates."

"You're correct Miss Granger. We believe that due to the potions from a young age, the soul bond is currently damaged. It never got to fully form and you all have suffered because of it."

Silence met him as he finished his explanation. A few heart beats passed, with Hermione growing paler and then switching to a deep flush. "Are you off your fucking rocker?"

"Miss Granger, I-"

"No, you will listen to me now. That's absolutely ridiculous. I've heard of soul bonds, but triads are exceedingly rare. You're trying to tell me that I have one of these 'so rare we don't really know about it' bonds?"

Fred and George were both trying not to smile at her outburst. Finally, there was the fiery witch they had been missing all these years. They shared a look and smiled at each other. They both had harbored a crush on the witch in question in their Hogwarts days, and they both were devastated when she had expressed interest in Ron. Now they knew why.

"You must be fucking insane if you think you can come in here and mess with us in this manner. If you want me to even fathom this as the truth, you better be able to prove it." Hermione wasn't really insinuating that he was lying; she was terrified that he was mistaken. She had a crush on the twins for most of the beginning of her Hogwarts career, but that had changed in 4th year after she started noticing Ron. It confused her then, why her feelings had suddenly switched, but Amortentia more than explained that. She was terrified her twin soul bonds were to two other wizards. She wanted nothing more than to have her boys be hers and only hers.

"Of course Miss Granger," the healer said slowly, hands held up placatingly, "I'd be more than happy to show you. My I?" He raised his wand to indicate he needed to show her through a spell. As she sharply nodded, he lifted his wand and cast the Verus Amor charm. A red flash of light appeared on top of the place Hermione's heart laid beneath. After a few moments, the ball of light elongated into a red strand of light, breaking into two strands, and attached themselves to each of the twins' hearts.

Hermione's eyes went wide as she stared at the strands, following them to the boys. Her boys. She looked up to see them smiling warmly at her, a glint of mischief behind their eyes. They accepted her, broken and all. The thought caused a sob to tear its way out of her throat. In an instant she was wrapped tightly in a hug with Fred and George, both holding onto her tightly. After a few moments, Hermione gasped out loud. The boys pulled back to look at her in concern.

"Oh gods. Harry. You told me they potioned him too!" George grasped her shoulder in comfort. "What if he has a soul bond out there that was damaged? We'll have to figure out how to get him here."

"Now that-"

"Little witch-"

"You can leave to us."

With a kiss on her forehead from both of them, they sauntered out of the room, promising to return to her. She watched them go in amusement. She would love to have been a fly on the wall to witness this. She turned to the Healer once more.

"Sir, may I make a request?"

"Of course Miss Granger, anything at all."

"If you would please bring the Minister of Magic here at once. I'm sure Kings will have a lot to say on the subject of one of his top Aurors being controlled for years." The healer nodded at her and took his leave as well. Not 15 minutes later, Kingsley Shacklebolt entered her room.

"What do you mean Harry has been potioned?"

Hermione patted the seat beside her bed. Once he was seated comfortably, she began to fill him in on their tale of woe and deceit.

Hermione was sitting down to lunch when her door was shoved open and the twins sludged into her room, their faces flushed and chests heaving with heavy breaths. She blinked in surprise to see Harry Potter unconscious between them, his arms draped over their shoulders as they drug him into the room. With a heave, they tossed him onto her bed and Hermione pulled up her feet, wrapping her arms around her legs. George inhaled sharply and both twins leaned forward, placing their hands on their knees for support. Fred lifted his hand, cutting Hermione off before she could utter a single syllable.

"Don't ask…."

George plopped down in the chair next to the bed and laid his head back, his pink ears returning to their usual pale as his breathing returned to normal. "We got him here didn't we? That's all you asked of us."

Hermione pushed her foot toward Harry, and poked him in the side; she felt him shudder, and a puff of air escaped his lips. "How long has he been out; what did you do to him?"

George's head fell back and his brown eyes met hers, mischief clear in their depths. "We might have dropped by for a spot of tea while Ginny was out visiting mum."

"We might have also added just a bit of our new Knockout Nocturn Potion when he had his back turned — patent pending," Fred finished, pulling out a tiny black vial from his pocket.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned in warning. "You at least tested the potion before trying it out on the last of the Potter line, right?" she asked, her voice arctic.

Fred lifted his hands, his head tilted as if he was bowing to her in deference. "Calm down, love. We would never take out the savior of the wizarding world. We only wanted to make him more…amiable. There is no way he would have come to see a Healer calmly."

With her brow cocked, she reached down and pressed the alert button, squinting in vexation when the light blinked rapidly above her door. Bright light still hurt her eyes and brought on the absolute worst migraines. George noticed her inquietude and stood, coming to stand by her side. He caught the worried gaze of his brother, and they shared a moment of quiet concern. With a single nod, Fred left to hurry the mediwitch. The sooner they took care of the situation with Harry, the sooner they could take their witch somewhere more comfortable. George sat on the edge of the bed and gently reached out, meeting the warm cinnamon eyes of Hermione, seeking her permission. Her shoulders slumped as she took in his kind face, filled with love and acceptance, and she took hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. It was all he needed to know that she trusted him. Placing his fingertips on either side of her temple, he rubbed in small circles, eager to relieve some of the tension. She closed her eyes in relief and a hum of pleasure slipped past her parted lips. George wiggled in his seat, swallowing his reaction to the soft sounds she was making, now was not the time to show her what she was able to do to him. With a pained expression, George pulled away, his cheeks warming. He quickly scooted off the bed, finding the chair at its side with his eyes downcast. Hermione watched with furrowed brows, but was unable to worry much about his odd behavior. Much like a tornado of retribution Kingsley, Adelaide, and Healer Jakob burst into the room, the door hitting the wall with a loud bang. Kingsley's once perfectly braided hair was a mess, pieces escaping their gold coil bands. His face was lined with stress and there were heavy purple bags under his eyes. He quickly found Harry passed out at the end of Hermione's bed, and ran a hand down his tired face.

"What is this? I can't see stuff like this Hermione. I am the Minister for Merlin's sake!" he said, a sigh breaking down his shoulders.

A shot of fiery red bounded into the room, and Fred smiled magnanimously. "Oh Kings! This—This is nothing. Harry was just tuckered out. The poor lad. It was quite the shock to learn that your wife potioned you into her bed," Fred said, his face paling. It was his sister and mother that had done such awful things, after all.

Kingsley grimaced, and with a lifted hand, motioned to the Healer. "Wake him, please. I would like to get his account. He will also need to be informed about his broken soul bond…" he said, his tone angry and disbelieving.

Damaging a soul bond was dark and evil magic. It would not be overlooked; Molly, Ginny, and even Ron who knew of their plans, would suffer great consequences. Hermione placed her hands down on the mattress and heaved herself up, wincing at the aches that came to life all over her body, but she ignored the help offered to her by her boys, instead focusing on the boy in front of her. She had loved Harry as a brother since she was eleven years old. She would be there for him as she always had been. Other than the soul bond Molly and Ron had taken from her, the broken relationship with Harry had been the absolute worst part in all this. She could handle the beatings from Ron, but to lose the only family she had left, had been devastating. As Hermione took hold of Harry's hand, Healer Jakob raised his wand over the unconscious man waving it around in a distinct pattern. With a sudden inhale, Hary shot forward, his eyes wide with shock. Adalaide moved forward and handed him a small silver vial. Hermione eyed it warily, but Fred and George smiled at her reassuringly. It must be one of the antidotes to the potions he had been force fed through the years. Harry glanced around the room, his emerald gaze accusing as he looked at Kinglsey, the twins, and then up at Hermione — the girl who had stuck by him through thick and thin.

Knowing the famous Potter temper better than most, Hermione placed her hand atop his wrist, and lowered her head meaningfully. "I'm sorry all of this seems so out of the blue Harry, but we will explain everything as soon as you take the potion Mediwitch Adalaide is offering you."

Emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion, but then something inside of them flickered and he leaned back, looking at Hermione in question. With worry, he reached out, his hand coming up to cup her head, hand tangling in her messy curls. "What happened, Mione? Why are you here?" he asked, his thumb finding the faded bruise on her cheekbone.

Hermione pulled his hand from her hair, noticing with a bit of amusement, that her boys were glaring openly at Harry. "That's part of the story, Harry. Can you find it in you to trust me once more?"

There was a pull at Hermione's heart as she watched the struggle in Harry's eyes. She could see Harry fighting the effects of the Obedience potion right in front of her eyes and the pain swirling in his emerald gaze reminded her of all the battles he had been forced to fight before. The unfairness of the moment struck a deep chord in her and hatred for Molly Weasley flared to life inside of her like Fiendfyre. She would make sure proper justice was served if it was the last thing she did. Confidence erupted on Harry's face, and he straightened his spine, nodding his head, and despite the strength he displayed, Hermione could see what it had cost him. His brow was sodden with perspiration, and his hands shook where they lay on his thighs. Hermione warped an arm around his shoulder, and turned to face the others. "He is ready, Adalaide."

Mediwitch Adelaide handed over the gray vial she held, and Harry took it with determination. He downed the clear thick liquid with a grimace of distaste, sticking out his tongue with a shake of his head. "Ugh, that is nasty! What the fuck is that?"

Adalaide giggled, her cheeks pink, a hand covering her shock widened lips. Hermione smiled at her, the grin on her face lengthening as Harry tossed the vial on the bedside table, a wrinkle between his brow as he tugged at his ear, fog darkening his bright eyes. "I mean it, Mione, that shit is absolutely vile. If Severus were still alive, I'd assume it was some sort of revenge for making him a hero."

Hermione could see the fog begin to lift, the more chaotic his words became, and she wondered how long it would take for him to catch on to his new environment and memories. The mediwitch continued to stare at him in open awe and revelation; Hermione knew if Harry noticed it would annoy him. Many people expected Harry to be this perfect young man, who never did a single thing wrong, and that just wasn't Harry. The green-eyed Potter heir's gaze began to wander, and he finally discovered that he didn't know where he was. His attention was captured by Kingsley and the twins, and he took hold of Hermione's hands.

"Someone better explain what the hell is going on…right now!" he demanded.

Kingsley took a heavy step forward, rubbing the back of his neck, and he exhaled deeply. "First I would like to say that the Ministry will be adding a new standard medical test that will be administered monthly for all employees. I am so sorry, Harry. I never expected something like this to happen. Especially…I mean they're a light family for Merlin's sake!"

The grip Harry had on Hermione's hand tightened, and when his finger jostled hers, he winced, slowly looking down at their joined hands in horror. He lifted his hand from her grasp, and looked at his left ring finger, staring mouth agape, at the gold band. "No! This can't be real." Hastily he turned to Hermione, a heartbreaking plea, begging for her to tell him they were lying. With a simple shake of her head, his world caved in, and he gasped out, his chest rocking as he stared down at the proof of the Weasley's betrayal. His best friend, his mother figure, and the girl whose very life he had once saved. Hermione held him close, trying as best she could to console him, yet knowing nothing would ever be the same for her best friend. Soon, he calmed, being the strong man he had always been. He pulled away, staring at the warm eyes of his best friend, and cupped her cheek gently. It was all he could do at the moment. She smiled, squeezing his hand gently in acknowledgment. That one motion had said all Hermione would ever need to know and more. He squared his shoulders and looked at Kinglsey, an air of authority in his gaze.

"Tell me everything."

And that is exactly what Kingsley did.

Draco Malfoy had spent years watching Harry Potter in school, during the war, and after. His gray eyes would follow his lithely form as he stalked about the Ministry, cloaked in Auror robes of black and red. As a young boy of eleven he had never understood his obsession with Potter, and had simply marked it down to the embarrassment of having his offer of friendship turned down so publicly. Yet as the years passed, and Draco realized he didn't particularly fancy witches, he decided to speak to the one person he knew he could trust, his mother. Narcissa, at first, had been disappointed to find out her son was in love with a Potter, but soon discovered that it wasn't just love, but something much deeper and sacred. Her son...her little Dragon, shared a soul bond with the last of the Potter line. Fear had enveloped her very being, for Harry Potter was marked by Lord Voldemort. After discussing her son's future with her husband, Lucius, she had calmed considerably. Matters of the Dark Lord would come much later, and for now, she just wanted to see her son happy. Draco had been amazed to find out he shard a fucking soul bond with Harry Potter. He would have never thought someone like him worthy enough for something so special. He was also grateful to know his parents accepted him for who he was and who he loved.

Soon though, it was time for Fourth year and Harry fell for Cho bloody Chang. That Draco could have lived with, but Harry's anger and hatred toward him, followed by his falling for Ginevra Weasely, was more than he had bargained for. Once Fifth year started, and Harry sent Lucius off to Azkaban, Draco had lost all hope for their future. Harry didn't seem to have any interest in men, and was always ogling Ginevra. It was rather sickening if Draco was honest. Once Sixth year came around, however, he didn't have much time for matters of the heart; he rarely found himself away from the ever looming presence of the Dark Lord. Draco had been forced to join his ranks, and his father basically handed over rank, money, and home to that hypocritical tyrant.

Thankfully, all that madness had only lasted two years before Harry ended Voldemort in a most spectacular fashion. Though, that meant little for their relationship— or lack thereof — it was still nonexistent. At least Draco was able to say that he knew Harry Potter did not hate him. During the wrangling of Death Eaters, he, his mother, and Lucius, had all been taken in by Aurors. Harry had spoken on his and his mothers behalf during their trial; it was the only reason they were not living the rest of their lives in Azkaban like Lucius. He was free and able to rebuild his family name because of his soulmate, even if he had to stand by and watch Harry marry into the Weasley Family one Sunday morning in May, a year after the war had ended. He at least knew Harry was happy, at least that is what he had thought. Now, standing in the hallway of the Ministry, whispers abounded. Hermione Granger had been brought to St Mungos a week ago, bloodied, bruised, and nearly dead. If the idle gossip was to be believed, and Draco found it was usually most reliable, as that was how he kept up to date on Harry's life — she had also been dosed with illegal potions. His silver brow cocked in surprise as he continued to listen to the two witches whispering near the coffee station.

"Are you sure Millie? Harry Potter; really? I would have never guessed! But they seemed so happy?"

"Of course they did, Becca, that's what those kinds of potions do, they basically take away your free will. He would have been in a fog created by that abominable wife of his."

"Wow, poor Miss Granger and Mr. Potter. I have always liked them, but a few of those Weasleys always gave me the ick. Money and fame hungry, I tell you!" Millie said.

Draco slowly backed away, careful to remain silent as to not be caught eavesdropping.

His heart hammered in his chest at the idea of Harry being alone in Mungos, coming down off potions that he could have been on for years. It would be like waking up from a coma. Draco rushed to his office, grabbing his cloak in haste while his mind was on overdrive. All he knew was that he had to go to Harry. If someone was going to take care of his soulmate, it would be him.

Harry sat, perched on a cot in room 205, right down the hall from Hermione's. They had parted ways only after he had come down from a heady panic attack. His magic had lashed out, shooting Kingsley, the twins, and the Mungo's staff across the room when they had tried to get to him. The only person able to get close had been his sister — in all but blood. She shared in his pain, after all. Ron and Molly had taken her soulmates and years of her life too. If anyone could understand his pain, it would be her. Oddly enough, that was the way most of their life went. It was always Hermione who had remained by his side, able to understand and get through to him when others couldn't. She was his rock. That was why he hadnt kicked her when she had started laughing hysterically when the name of his soulmate had popped up, golden streams of magic spelling out the name Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy

He couldn't say he was surprised. He had always been rather obsessed with Draco. It had started on the train in first year, when he had noticed the way the sun made his blonde hair shimmer, and the flecks of cerulean blue in his eyes. The boy had been haughty sure, and that was exactly why Harry had lashed out, ignoring his offer of friendship. He had been through enough bullying with the Dursely's, and that is exactly what he had feared would happen to him if he joined Slytherin. Looking back, alot of the fear had manifested because of Ronald Weasley. Anger filled him at the thought of all he had missed because of the red-headed family from hell. A hint of guilt slithered its way down Harry's spine, and he was reminded that not all of the Weasleys had been involved, in fact, Hermione's soulmates were a part of the family. Fred and George had lost a lot because of their mothers actions.

Though Harry knew it would take time for him to trust any of them again, he just hoped Hermione would understand. The door to his room began to inch open and Harry feared what potions the mediwitch could be bringing to him next, his stomach tilted at the thought. Instead, a head of perfectly coiffed blonde hair was the first thing Harry saw, followed by a pair of eyes he would never forget — light gray sprinkled with blue. Draco Malfoy stepped into the room, followed closely by Hermione. In Draco's hands was a beautiful bouquet of pure white Lilies. Harry's eyes burned with tears as Hermione hurriedly joined him at his side. He could sense she had worried for him the moment she had seen Draco.

"Oh, Harry." Draco looked at his shoes in a surprising show of shyness. "You're awake, I wasn't sure. Up for some company?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he studied the wizard before him. He had definitely grown into his sharp and angular looks, looking akin to that of a Grecian god. He swallowed as he realized that he, Harry James Potter, was nervous. Nervous because of Draco Lucius Malfoy. How odd this day was becoming. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to center himself. "I take it that you already know?"

A familiar smirk played its way onto Draco's face. "What, that your wagon is essentially hitched to mine?" The huff of shock made him grin widely at him. "Yeah, I've known for a bit." He moved closer into the room and sat in the chair beside his soulmate, a man who's eyes had yet to leave his.

"How long is a bit?"

"Hmm. Longer than a minute, shorter than forever." A playful roll of Harry's eyes made him grin widely again. "Let's just say I knew around the time you changed."

Harry blinked at Draco now, shockingly similar to an owl. "Hang on. You've known I was your soulmate since fourth fucking year and you never said anything?"

"Listen Potter, it's not like we were on the greatest of terms. If I would have walked up to you and said 'Hey Harry, you're my perfect match, wanna go find an empty classroom and work on the alphabet' you would have hexed me on the spot."

Okay. He had a point. Harry definitely wouldn't have believed him. "Fine. Accepted. Why did you just…I don't know, this sounds fucking stupid, but how could you just let me go?"

A pained expression took over the joyful one lingering on Draco's face. "Honestly, Harry, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to fucking do. I found love, where it wasn't supposed to be. You were the chosen one! I was a pompous prat with a Death Eater for a Father. I had convinced myself that it would never work, that you would reject the bond. Then you started drooling over the bitchy redhead and all my fears came true. You didn't want me. What was I supposed to do? I did the best thing I could. I left you to be happy and safe."

Tears were spilling freely out of Harry's eyes now. "I liked you back then, you know. You…you intrigued me. It was all a lie though, Draco. I never wanted Ginny. If we had time…I think I would have chosen you."

Draco gave him a long stare, unblinking. After a stretch of time that started to make Harry shift in his bed, he spoke. "How long do you think you'll be here?"

"A few days, long enough to make sure I'm okay."

"So, you'll be out by Friday?"

"I would assume so. Why?"

Draco's smirk came over him again, this time with a spark lighting up his eyes. He reached over and lifted Harry's hand, clutching it with his and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. "Well, I'd fancy taking the love of my life out to dinner. If that's alright with you."

Harry grinned at him, a new emotion overflowing his heart and taking over; love. "I think I'd really like that, Draco."

Draco reached over and placed the white lilies on Harry's chest, leaving his hand placed over his soulmate's heart. He glanced over and saw Hermione still sitting on Harry's other side, tears flowing down her cheeks as she regarded the couple in front of her. She looked up at his gaze and smiled a true smile, nodding in acceptance. Draco turned back and looked into Harry's emerald eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It's a date, love."

Kingsley Shacklebolt considered himself to be a man who was prepared for any situation. This week, however, was giving him pause. Miss Granger was abused by the fiance she loved, but that turned out to be false. Harry was poisoned by his girlfriend. Hermione was soulbound to not one Weasley, but both of the twins. The scene before him gave him the most pause of all.

Making his way into Harry Potter's hospital room, he was shocked to see young Mister Malfoy was stationed at his bedside. His head was bent over as the two talked quietly, a look of peace on both boys he never thought he'd get the chance to see. Looking to his right, he saw Hermione sitting in a little armchair by the door, watching the two with a happy smile on her face.

"Miss Granger?"

"Oh Kings! I didn't hear you come in!" Her gaze flicked back over to Harry and Draco as the latter let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh in response to something her best friend had said. "Never thought that would happen, did you?"

"Not in my lifetime, Hermione." He smiled at the new couple in appreciation for the best things coming out of a horrible situation. "I was told you needed to speak to me?"

"Ah, yes, I almost forgot. There's something I need you to do for me." Her eyes changed from the watery affection to a steely hard gaze filled with fire and determination.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

"Oh come on Kings, it'll be like old times." She grinned mischievously and he no longer questioned the twins being her soulmates. "I need you to catch a psychopath."

The calm afternoon air was distrubed by the screeching robust red-headed woman barrelling down the hallway at full speed. The burnt orange dress she wore contrasted awfully with the color of her hair, and the way her skin tinged pink in her haste. Molly Weasley slammed her hands down on the nurses station, her brown eyes wide with panic.

"Harry Potter!" she screeched.

Mediwitch Adalaide Duncan stared tempestuously at the hysterical woman, with her arms crossed over her chest. With a tilt of her head, Adelaide lifted her hand, wiggling it in the air. "...and I'm Adalaide Duncan, are we just spouting off names? What do you want?"

Molly reared back, as if she had been slapped by the mediwitches words, her nose wrinkling, and face warped with anger. She was used to people bending to her will, that much Adalaide could see. "My son, Harry Potter. You might know him as the savior of the wizarding world." She smirked, as if Harry's accomplishments were her own, and Adalaide felt herself becoming ill. This woman was sick. "I was told he was brought here earlier today after being injured on the job. He's an Auror, you see," Molly finished, still preening under Harry's accomplishments, almost having forgotten the reason she was there in the first place.

Adelaide bent down, her expression unreadable as she tapped her wand against the paperwork she had at hand. With a bored look about her, she glanced up, rolling her eyes. "Seeing as you said he's your son, I don't think you're Ginevra Potter nee Weasley. Which means there is nothing I can do for you."

This had been the plan given to her by the delectable Kingsley Shacklebolt; anger Molly Weasley to the point she becomes hysterical. Apparently, her sons, Fred and George Weasely — the lovely twins tied to the hip of Miss Granger, had told him it was the best way to trick a confession out of her. Adelaide had volunteered immediately, she had never minded poking the proverbial bear. She found it fun, actually. Molly ground her teeth together, staring Adalaide down like a bull who had found a red cloak.

"No, I am not Ginevra. She would be my daughter—"

"Then Mr. Potter really isn't your son now is he? That would make him your son-in-law, which means you have no legal right to him," Adalaide smiled, happy to cut Molly off before she could start on another tirade about Harry's accomplishments.

Molly huffed, scowling in indignation and glanced around, presumably looking for another person to which she could speak to. Luckily Kingsley had cleared out the floor, aside from herself and the Healer on call.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today, Miss…"

"Weasley! It's Mrs. Weasley, and yes you can! You can tell me where my boy is."

Adelaide simply smiled, her teeth shining in the fluorescent lights, and stared at Molly unblinkingly. "Are you his wife, ma'am?"

Molly slammed her fists down on the counter, her face alight with anger. "Do you not know who I am? I am the mother of the savior, and I have worked too hard to ensure it stays that way!" she screamed.

Adelaide cocked her head to the side, innocence the main focus of her face, and plastered on another smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have anyone named savior on record. Maybe try another floor?"

Molly had officially had it, her face was twisted with rage and cheeks tinged ruby as she pointed a sausage finger at the mediwitch in front of her. "Listen here you incompentent little bitch! If you think you can keep him from me, you have another thing coming. My moron of a son managed to get rid of one know-it-all, and I can easily get rid of another. There is nothing that will stand in the way of my bringing Harry back home to my daughter. He belongs to the Weasley family," she snarled. "Ginny will not lose him to some Death Eater poof!"

Adalaide giggled, caught off guard by her tirade. "Poof?"

Her laughter only enraged Molly further and with a flick of her wrist, Adelaide was being held at wand point. "This is exactly why you young little things require so much guidance. Your generation just has no respect! I started my Ginny young, you see. She knew her place in this world from the moment she could talk. Just look how well she did for herself! She managed to capture the Chosen One when she was only a third year. Now that, my dear, is talent. Then again, she did get her skills with Potions from her mother," Molly said, smirking. Her eyes shined with fury and madness.

Adelaide audibly swallowed, staring down the chipped point of Mollys black walnut wand. Raising her gaze, she met her mad brown eyes. "Now, dear, you were just about to tell me where Mr Potter is resting. After all, we wouldn't want him to miss his next dose of potions now would we?" she asked, shaking her head with a child-like tone of wonder.

"I don't think so, Molly. I don't believe Mr Potter will want to see you or Ginevra anytime soon," Kingsley said, appearing from the shadowed corner of the hallway — directly behind the nurses station, followed by two Aurors. They all had their wands raised and pointed directly at the chest of Molly Weasley, she had nowhere to go, and Kinglsey had obviously heard every word she had spoken. She was caught. If the fire in her eyes was any indication, that didn't matter a bit to her. The direction of her wand shifted, and she was now aiming directly at the Minister for Magic.

"You're wrong Shacklebolt. I am the only mother Harry ever knew. Bring him to me and all of this will go away."

"No Molly, it won't. We know what you and your two children did. I'd cooperate if I were you."

Molly looked around wildly, her head snapping in every direction to locate the person who dared to order her around. Out of the shadows appeared Hermione, standing tall and confident as she strode toward Molly. Fred and George walked out behind her and took their places flanked at her sides, the knights protecting their Queen.

"You! No, it couldn't be! I was assured you were out of the picture. Always had to go putting your nose where it didn't belong. Now you've poisoned my sons against me!"

"Molly!" Hermione hollered above the ravings of the woman she had once considered a pseudo mother, "Can you shut the fuck up for more than two seconds? Talk about a migraine."

Hermione leaned in close to Molly's face as she was restrained, her face giving none of her emotions away. "You will finally be where you deserve to be. How dare you try to play with other people's lives. I'm sorry you didn't make anything of yourself, but that's your fault. Now you've fucked up a new generation of children to do your bidding."

She stood up and glared down at the mad woman. "You will never hear from Harry or I again. You have lost today, Molly. Leave with whatever minute amount of dignity you still possess."

With a final glare at Hermione, Molly slumped down in the Aurors' hands, the fight leaving her body. They had found her out. She had lost. But this was far from over. Letting the Aurors lead her through the front doors, a small part of her realized that Ginny and Ron would soon be joining her in Azkaban. A smile wormed its way onto her face. She may not have money, but she'd have her family.

A knock at the door alerted Hermione to another presence in the room. She turned to see the friendly face of Bill Weasley smiling at her reassuringly.

"Hello there Hermione. I heard you had a bit of a nasty time with my mother."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, that's putting it mildly." She cocked her head as she saw Fleur standing behind him, a smile on her face as well. "Bill, not that it's not great to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Fred squeezed her hand to get her attention. "We called him as soon as we realized what mother dearest was up to. I know the healers here are amazing, but who better to check you out than a world renowned curse breaker?"

Bill walked further into the room and motioned at Hermione. "If I may?"

"Oh of course Bill, I'm so sorry. Do what you need to."

As Bill began flowing out an intrinsic pattern of spells above her, Fleur came around to sit beside Hermione, causing both Weasley twins to bristle in preparation.

"Enough boys, I am not 'ere to 'arm her. I simply wish to extend my sympathies and a caring ear."

The twins both settled back into their seats, but kept a wary eye on the witch beside their own. Fleur turned to Hermione and smiled at her gently.

"'Ermione, I know you may not believe me, but I have been in a situation similar to your own. If there's anyone who would understand what you're going through, it's me."

Hermione blinked a few times and regarded the witch before her. "What do you mean you've been in this situation before?" Her gaze flicked to Bill and back to the witch who had a small smile spreading across her face.

"It was not Bill, if that is what you are thinking. I'm going to tell you a story about a little witch, one that I hope will 'elp you." She tilted her head and she seemed to bring memories long forgotten back to the forefront of her mind.

"When I was younger, maybe 13 or so, it became clear to my parents that my soulmate was alive and well, someone was waiting for me. However, they disregarded this and decided that I would marry for alliances instead of love. My hand in marriage was traded off to a powerful family in France, and zere son Pierre became my intended. Pierre…Pierre was not a nice boy. He deemed that since my hand had been given to him, every essence of my being belonged to him. He was callous, authoritative, and dominating. I was ze shell of my past self due to 'is…less than gentle hand."

Hermione couldn't help the tears that began to slide down her cheeks at the story. Fleur was such a gentle person; having this evil become her made her heart hurt for the woman. She felt a hand grasp hers in comfort and turned to smile at George, thankful for the support.

"This all began to change in 1995, when I was chosen to be a Triwizard champion. As you know, many families came to see the tournament. Little did I know, my heart was among them. A family of red hair passed by me one day on the way to ze stadium before the first challenge and I felt it, ze moment my soul recognized its match. Everything just clicked into place as my eyes found his blue ones. My William. Since soul bonds trump every other kind of contract, I found myself free to live my life with my other half."

Fleur eyed the boys severely until they stood up awkwardly and walked a distance away from the two witches. When they were alone, except for Bill, she turned back to Hermione. "I only tell you this so that you know ze twins will never hurt you. You don't have to be with them, either of them, if you do not wish it. I will tell you, however, that you may regret such a choice. They really are your perfect match in every way. They will never hurt you. They will never abandon you. They will always love you. Protect you. If you allow them to be."

Hermione choked on a sob as she threw herself at the witch for an embrace and heard Fleur murmuring gentle soothing words in French to calm her. All of her fears disappeared in an instant. She was so worried she was stuck with an option outside her choice, or that the twins would resent being tied to her. Every hesitation dried up and blew away as the French witch rubbed her back and whispered those soft and gentle reassurances.

"You always have me to come to, Eermione. For anything you may need to talk about. We're family after all." Fleur flashed her a cheeky and brilliant smile.

"Thank you Fleur. Your words mean more to me than I think you imagine. Can I floo you when I get home?"

"Of course mon petit, anything you want." Bill looked over to them and smiled as well.

"You look safe and sound to me, Hermione. There's no lingering curses or hexes on you. Also…you can ask me anything as well. As Fleur said, we're all family now."

With a small smile, the couple made their way out of the ward, waving at the trio gently. The twins returned to her side, searching her face for any distress.

"Are you alright Hermione?"

"What was that about?"

"Everything is great, I promise. Fleur…she knew exactly what I needed to hear." She settled back down into the bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day begin to catch up to her. She smiled at the twins, Fleur's words swirling around her head. Her perfect match in every way. She could definitely see why; they would all challenge each other. Their wits matched hers, yet they were all smart in different areas. Their mischievous nature would lift her up and she would keep them level headed. They were, as Fleur said, made for each other.

Hermione took a deep breath as the peace began to roll over her. Molly would pay for her crimes, and she'd brought down Ron and Ginny with her. It was finally going to all be okay. Leaning back in her chair, she began to contemplate where exactly she'd go now. Her flat wasn't safe, the Burrow wasn't an option, and Ginny was still at Grimmauld. Her peaceful expression slipped as the gears turned in her head.

"Why the long face, love?" George appeared before her and was gazing at her thoughtfully. She jumped when she didn't hear him coming and he held up his hands placatingly. "Sorry Hermione, I should have announced myself."

"It's alright George, I'm just still a little jumpy. Nothing is wrong, just getting my finances in order in my head."

"Why would you need to do that?" Fred had joined the duo now.

She looked up at them in confusion. "Well for the hotel of course. My money is still all tied up with Ron and the flat. I don't feel safe at the Burrow or Grimmauld. That leaves a hotel."

"Hermione, you seem to be forgetting a very important fact." She glanced up at Fred with an eyebrow raised.

"We have a flat."

"An extra bedroom."

"Excellent wards."

"And the best part!" Fred exclaimed, a slow smile in place, "George makes fantastic waffles for breakfast."

"Aye, that I do. Free of charge too."

"Boys," Hermione started with a frown, "I can't let you do that. You've already done so much for me. You saved my life; I could never put you out like that."

"Ah, now this is where you're wrong, Hermione," Fred stated flatly, "you seem to be under the impression you have a choice in the matter."

"But-"

"Listen Hermione, it's the least we can do," George began, "it'll honestly put both of our minds at ease knowing you're safely under our roof. Please…let us take care of you for once."

Hermione looked up at the wizards staring down at her. How had she never seen the love they had for her? Well, yes, the potion, but it still should have been obvious. Her love for them grew every minute they were together. She had always been able to tell the two apart; just because they looked identical didn't mean they acted the same.

George was the easygoing twin. He was quick to smile and joke around. He was the one who never failed to make her smile. Fred was the passionate one. Protective. The way he talked about their business left no doubt in her mind that he was capable of great things. They were the two sides to a perfect coin. All of their love and protection was aimed at her. And she couldn't be more thankful to have found them in her life again.

"Alright boys, but just for now," Hermione started, causing George to jump up and whoop loudly in pleasure while Fred just gazed down at her with a look that would put Mr. Darcy's affections for Elizabeth to shame. "It's only until I can get back on my feet."

Fred snorted beside her, grabbing her hand as he led her out of her chair and towards the door. "Sure, just keep telling yourself that, love."

The next few weeks were harder than anything the trio had ever faced before. That first night that Hermione had made the flat above the shop her home would be burned into both twins' minds for the rest of their lives.

It had started off normal enough, with a fulfilling meal prepared by George and a quiet night in front of the fire. Bill, Fleur, and surprisingly Charlie had shown up at the flat to make sure they were all okay and had spent the past few hours laughing and enjoying each other's company. When Fred felt Hermione's head slip and fall onto his shoulder in slumber, he had promptly picked her up and, with a nod to their eldest siblings in goodbye, carried her to her room with George in tow. Tucking her in, they both couldn't believe this little witch would finally be theirs.

A few hours later, after the entire flat had been asleep for a few hours, the quiet was broken by a tortured cry and an anguished sob. George flew to his feet and ran for the third bedroom, meeting Fred at the door as they shared identical looks of worry.

Throwing the door open, they saw Hermione restless in bed, tossing and turning as she cried out occasionally. They could hear the jumbled cry's of 'Ron' and 'please don't' as she sobbed in fear. Fred got to her bed first and gently pulled her into his lap, cradling her as he would a child, while George swept her sweat soaked bangs away from her face.

Hermione's eyes flew open as she gasped in shock. Looking around, she saw only the twins next to her. "Oh gods, I remember it all! I saw it happening again and again. He just kept hitting me as I begged him to stop. Why didn't he stop?" She sobbed out the last sentence and clutched at Fred's bare chest in fear.

The twins shared a look before they gathered her between them to calm her down, letting her cry out her fear and pain. After a few minutes, the sobs subsided as she hiccuped, her nerves spread thin.

"Listen Hermione," George began, "he can never hurt you ever again. Fred and I will always be here to protect you, no matter what."

"He's right Hermione," Fred replied, "You are our soulmate. Even if you weren't, you're still the most important person to each of us. You are ours to love. To protect. To save. Every single time, Hermione, we will be here to save you. You're the reason to get up in the morning. You're the reason to keep on living. You, sweet Hermione, you're the reason for everything."

She was quiet so long they thought she had fallen asleep before they heard a small sigh escape her as she burrowed farther into Fred's chest. "I love you, both of you."

"We love you too, Hermione. Always."

Within a few minutes, they could hear the soft snores of the little witch beside them. SHe had had enough pain to last her a lifetime. They would each do whatever she needed them to do, no matter what. With a glance at each other, George nodded before he got out of the bed. With a sigh, he leaned down and kissed her forehead before heading for the exit.

Turning at the door, he saw Fred get settled beside their witch, curling her into his chest and preparing for sleep. He smiled grimly and made his way back to his room. They would switch off every night. They would protect her. This went on for weeks, but no one complained in the slightest. She was safe in either of their arms and only rarely woke up from a nightmare. They would help remind her she was safe.

Fred was awoken suddenly from an indecent dream about a particular curly haired witch by the sound of screaming. An anguished and throat shredding scream full of terror. He flew off his bed so fast he was sure he levitated, wretching open the door so hard that it slammed into the wall with a deafening crack. Looking into the hall with wide eyes, he could hear George frantically trying to wake Hermione. A heartbeat of time passed before the next scream tore through the little apartment. Racing to the third bedroom, Fred wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Hermione was in the center of her bed, thrashing back and forth as she let out an ear shattering cry. The sheets were twisted around her body like a vice, failing in their ploy to hold her in place. Sweat was sheening off her skin, plastering her normally bushy hair to her face with a halo of drenched curls surrounding her like a nimbus. George was kneeling next to her, one hand on her shoulder to keep her steady and the other on the side of her face.

Another cry uttered her lips, with a deep sob choking its way to follow. She had nightmares before and they had comforted her, but it was nothing like this. After the shock of the moment had passed, Fred raced to her bed, crawling into the bed on the other side of her.

"Hermione! You need to wake up, love. We're right here!" George cried out to her, sweeping the soaked curls off her forehead.

"Please Hermione, it's okay! We've got you, love. Please wake up!" Fred was running a hand up and down her arm, trying to calm her as she thrashed.

With a final gasp, Hermione's eyes shot open as she tried to free herself from their grasp. "No! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it, please don't hurt me!" She struck out wildly, desperate to free herself from the confines on the twins. "Please Ron, just let me go!"

"Hermione, love, please stop! It's us!" The voices finally penetrated through the fog that was swallowing her. It wasn't Ron. He wasn't hurting her. She looked around and saw George positioned by her head, stroking her curls in an attempt to calm her. Turning to the other side she saw Fred, curled up next to her and running his hand down her arm in a slow manner, humming lowly.

"Fred? George?"

"Oh thank Merlin. Hermione! Are you alright?" Both boys' eyes were shining with unshed tears as they gazed at her.

"I'm alright. What happened?"

"You were having another nightmare," Fred whispered beside her, "but it's alright. We've got you."

A sob tore out of her throat in realization. The twins immediately acted on impulse, wrapping the small witch up in their arms. George pulled the sobbing witch into his arms further, letting her clutch to his shirt as her tears left a pool below her cheek. Fred burrowed closer and wrapped himself at her back with an arm over her stomach. Every sob that left her had him pulling her closer and closer.

Soon her sobs lessened and she was sniffling, still clutching George as a lifeline. Her hand that was near her stomach reached over to intertwine with Fred's, taking solace that both of her boys were here for her. George leaned over to kiss the top of her head while Fred was humming a familiar tune to her in a calming tone.

George leaned forward to kiss the side of her cheek, but the smell of her perfume was too much for him to resist and he left a gentle kiss just below her ear. He inhaled the whirling scents of Bergamont, Honeysuckle, and Vanilla that reminded him of a meadow in spring and sunlight. He distantly remembered her telling him it was by a brand called Oakcha, but his mind was fuzzy and memories of any kind were too much for his mind at the moment. He placed another gentle kiss under her ear and was rewarded with a breathy moan beneath him.

His eyes flicked to his brother, the shock evident for them both. Fred looked at Hermione then, and shock blanketed her sweet face as well. He searched her for any signs of doubt, but found not a trace, so with a pounding heart, Fred leaned down to place a kiss on the curve of her hip bone, to which she squirmed in return. A sigh now escaped her; a breath of anticipation.

George pushed himself up to lean over Hermione, looking deep into her eyes, which usually reminded him of cinnamon but were now warm like honey. A dusting of blush covered her nose and across the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes were wide, darting to glance between his.

"Hermione, I-"

She launched herself upwards and clashed her mouth with his, her fingers carding through his hair to scrape his skull. Their teeth gnashed together as the kiss became fiery with passion. He leaned back and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth as he went, eyes roaming over her. He gave her a smirk before roaming down her body, placing small kisses down the length of her form.

Fred crawled up beside them, hesitation in his gaze. Hermione tilted her head up towards him in question. She was drawn to his mouth and pulled her teeth over her bottom lip as she studied him. A growl deep in his throat was the only warning she got before Fred descended upon her, a hand possessively stretched over her neck and pulling her towards him.

Hermione gave a slight gasp, closing her eyes to relish in the feeling of their love for her. She felt a light tapping on her thigh and broke her kiss with Fred, and tried to catch her breath. She looked up to see George staring at her, with a quick flick of his gaze to the ties of her pajama pants and back; it told her all of his intentions. With a hasty nod in his direction she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull open the tie with his teeth and tug the pants off slowly, kissing down her legs as he went.

Hermione opened her mouth in a gasp at the sensation, to which Fred took full advantage. He continued his ministrations in claiming her mouth while reaching down to cup one of her breasts in his palm, kneading her nipple through the fabrics. He swollowed every groan and keen she gave out hungrily, pushing her for more as he leaned down and captured the other nipple, nipping it lightly. In combination to George nipping her hip bone at the same time, her back arched off the bed as a loud mewl tore itself from deep within her.

Through the fog of lust she realized she was the only one half naked and opened her eyes to level them with a heady look. Deciding to up the ante, she sat up in bed and slowly crossed her arms, grabbing the light fabric of her tank top and pulling it over her head, never once breaking eye contact. The fire in George's eyes matched the fire in Fred's, both becoming lost in the sight of her.

They slid off the bed and, keeping her eye, Fred removed his flannel pants as George pulled the cotton t-shirt over his head. They both stood beside the bed as Hermione eyed them in appreciation, eyes going wide at the thought of taking both of them. With a smug grin, Fred crawled back onto the bed and positioned his head low at her core. With a wicked smirk he leaned down and bit the thin underwear she had on, grazing his teeth over her hip in doing so to pull them off. Throwing them in the corner of the room with the rest of their clothes, he descended upon her, glancing up again for approval.

As soon as Hermione had lifted a leg to rest on his shoulders he attacked, letting the width of his tongue glide up her center. The loud moan that tore through her was stolen by George who had joined them, capturing her lips with his as his tongue stroked hers.

Hermione relished the feel of skin on skin as she ran her hand up George's arm and grasped at the hair at the nape of his neck. Her mind was starting to slow as the lust took over, Fred and George were a unified team tending to her every needs, rising her higher and higher until she broke with a yell, stars dancing in her view.

Breathing slowly she came back to earth as her twins were gently stroking her skin in appreciation. Looking up at George, she grinned wickedly; a look that he returned readily.

"Alright boys, my turn."

She pushed up off the bed with her hand on his chest, leading George to lay on his back beneath her. With a smile back at Fred, she straddled George's frame and positioned herself above him. Fred came up behind her to kiss the side of her neck, almost breaking her focus.

With a small smile from George she slowly made her way down him until she was sitting flush with him and he was within her to the hilt, a groan tearing from them both at the contact. Fred nipped at her shoulders behind her and ran his hands down her sides, bringing them up to hold her heaving breasts in his grasp, eliciting another groan from the witch.

Hermione began to move then, a slow and agonizing dance utop her wizard with her other wizard attending to her. When she felt the coil within her start to wind tighter she leaned forward, flush with George's chest and looked back at Fred.

His eyes widened in wonder as he realized what she was doing. "Are you sure, my love?"

She nodded and prepared for the assault on her senses as Fred entered her, causing such a pressure to all in attendance it was almost too much. The sounds of yearning and breathy sighs filled the room as both wizards moved within her, tigetheming the coil inside her. A new feeling came over them all, a feeling of full content and oneness with each other, the warmest sensation, almost blinding in its arrival.

Feeling herself close to the edge she flexed internally and heard the groan from both wizards in kind. Each of their thrusts began to lose focus as they neared their end. George leaned up to capture her lips in a brutal kiss, biting her lip again as Fred tweaked her nipples with his fingers. "Let go baby, we've got you," he whispered to her, "always."

A groan left her at his words, and soon after she felt the coil break as well as Fred and George each finding their release. A blinding light caused her to open her eyes and she gasped in shock, still in the throws of her life altering orgasm. A golden ring was surrounding the triad, bathing them in its light and warmth. Riding their high, the trio collapsed together and the light was gone as quickly as it had come on.

Hermione was surprised to not only feel her emotions, but a myriad of hope, love, and trust that must be coming from the wizards. Her eyes widened at the realization; they had fixed their bond and sealed it at the same time. They were fully soulbound now. They would never be with anyone else but her and she didn't even ask if that was okay. A tear escaped her at the thought of trapping them with her.

She wiped her eyes of the remaining tears and glanced up at George, eyes darting back and forth into his. "George, I'm…"

Hermione, if you try to say you're sorry, I'm going to tape your mouth shut." He leveled her with a glare, lacking the heat behind it. "We told you we would always be here for you, no matter what. We love you, bond or no bond."

"Always, love." Fred piped up from behind her as she felt his lips kiss in between her shoulder blades.

"Thank you then. Both of you." Her eyes darted down and her cheeks blushed as a thought came into her mind. "Can I ask a silly question?"

"Who do you think we are Hermione?"

"Silly questions are our bread and butter."

"Who better to ask-"

"Than us!"

She smiled and glanced up at George again, squeezing Fred's hand in reassurance. "Can you stay? Both of you?" Her cheeks inflamed again at the request. "I just…I think I'll sleep better knowing you're here."

"That's not silly at all, love."

"We'd love to."

Fred flicked his wand, summoning their pillows from their rooms and another blanket. After some maneuvering, they all seemed to be comfortable. Hermione was flipped around with her head on Fred's chest, fingers still entwined. She had one leg over his. George laid behind her, an arm laid over her stomach and his leg over the leg Hermione had stuck straight out. Fred had his arm around Hermione, cradling her head protectively with a hand in her hair. She felt a gentle kiss from both of them, causing her to smile as they calmed her further.

"Fred? George?"

"Yes, love?" they responded together, causing her to smile further.

"I just wanted to let you know…you're my reason too." She looked up and saw Fred trying to control his emotions, the furrow in his brow growing more defined as his eyes began to shine with unshed tears. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple, bottom jaw shaking slightly, and she felt George behind her kiss between her shoulder blades.

"Go to sleep, little witch. No one will ever harm you again."

With a sigh, Hermione burrowed her head on Fred's chest, letting her eyes finally shut as exhaustion hit her. She was with her boys. She was safe. She was loved.

She was home.

Hello Readers!

As many of you know, today marks the one year anniversary of one of the harshest trials to appear in our world. Those who don't, where were you? The once proud family, the Weasleys, are on trial for potioning not one, but two of the Golden Trio. Honestly, someone should have been able to see the humdingers surrounding them, but it all worked out in the end. Molly, Ginny, and Ron Weasley were all tried for essentially poisoning their friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. I really need to send them an invitation to dinner tonight, I completely forgot. Neville makes an absolutely divine beef wellington, and my wild blackberry pie is such a nice complement to it. I think Harry has the perfect aged Firewhiskey for the little party. I bet the Weasley's are hoping for some firewhiskey right about now! All three of the accused currently sit in Azkaban for crimes against the wizarding world. Arthur is still in the trauma ward at St Mungos to my knowledge, hopefully he can heal from a lifetime of abuse.

It came out that one Ronald Weasley had impregnated a witch that requests to remain anonymous at this time, and I'll respect her privacy. Due to the trial, however, she decided not to keep her little bundle of joy, and the little girl was happily adopted by Charlie Weasley and his spouse Rolf.

We have good news as well! Hermione was reunited with her soul bound wizards, Fred and George Weasley, and the triad is rocking the foundations of our world in the best of ways. The twins have their very successful business and have just signed a contract to extend their enterprise into parts of France and America. Hermione, the little go-getter she is, is shaking the core of the Wizarding World. After her own experience with the elite team, she has been a wonder for patients in the trauma wing as their newest Healer. They've also allowed me to announce to our readers that their little bundle has finally made its way into the world. Gideon Arthur Weasley was brought safely into this world late last night.

As a circumstance of the Weasley's treachery, it has also shaken everyone that Harry Potter was kept from his soul bond and has found happiness in that of a Mr. Draco Malfoy. The pair were married last spring and are currently expecting their first little bundle of joy through a surrogate. As a dear friend, I was all too happy to volunteer.

May we wish them everlasting happiness in all of their future endeavors.

Luna Longbottom

Editor in Chief

The Quibbler