Three Times Six, Chapter Six
By: myr_halcyon
Summary: At the Burrow. Fred has mood swings.
=====
Several hours later, Hermione woke up to a gentle thump as Harry landed the Firebolt in front of the Burrow. The dilapidated house still seemed to be propped up primarily with magic, even though Seamus Finnigan had supposedly come over and done some fixing-up last summer with his dad's Muggle construction team.
The boisterous atmosphere that typically pervaded the premises was noticeably absent, though. A few birds chirped from the trees nearby, but no squeals, screams or laughter floated out from the house. Even the garden gnomes were silent. Hermione and Harry walked cautiously up to the front door and peered in the window.
Bill sat slumped over the table with his head in his hands. Mrs. Weasley was staring straight-backed at the wall, mouthing syllables that didn't make words. Arthur was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, glancing up at their extraordinary clock every few minutes to see if two of the hands had moved from their positions between "in mortal peril" and "school". As Hermione squinted, she could see that the pictures on each of the hands had disappeared and a few springs were lying on the mantle below the clock.
Harry reached past Hermione and pushed open the door. All three Weasleys looked up quickly at the squeak. Charlie's head appeared at the top of the stairs, followed closely by Fred and George. "Hello, Hermione, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley vaguely. "Do come in..."
Fred and George flew down the stairs. Fred grabbed Harry by the shirt collar and threw him into a chair while George pulled Hermione into the kitchen by the arm.
"What the bloody hell happened out there?" Fred exploded. "Mum gets a little nudge from Ron on the platform, and then boom, all the parents with any Divination talent at all are on their knees screaming. We get word later that the train blew up and no one survived, but yet here you two are, alive and well! Why weren't you on the train!? WHERE ARE GINNY AND RON?" Fred's red face contrasted sharply with his hair, making his tirade all the more intimidating. Harry said nothing.
"We tried," said Hermione in a small voice. "I never saw Ginny after we got on the train, but we could have saved Ron. Ron wouldn't let us. He --" Her voice cracked and she quickly looked away from Mrs. Weasley's contorted face. There was no way she would want to hear what Hermione was about to say. "He said he valued my life over his."
"So he is dead." Bill's voice held no question.
"Yes." The word stuck painfully in Hermione's throat.
Bill's eyes flashed and his right hand twitched toward his wand. "And you did nothing? You let him die -- you didn't value his life as much as your own. Some loving, caring soul mate you made, Hermione," he spat.
"Bill, Ginny died too," Harry said quietly, eyes averted.
"How do you know?" asked Fred sharply.
Harry could feel the icily intimidating stares of six Weasleys on his neck, but he couldn't keep the truth from them. "I heard her scream," he whispered.
The silence was louder than any noise Hermione could think of. Fred stared at Harry's downcast face for a full minute, then, with a sickening crack, his fist connected with Harry's jaw.
George and Charlie jumped on Fred, hauling him away from Harry before any more harm could be done. He struggled for a moment, but after he regained control he broke away from George and Charlie. "You bastard," he said, walking past Harry and out of the kitchen.
Harry sat, frozen. He felt a tear slide slowly down his face. Humiliated, he jabbed a finger at the drop and gave a muffled cry at the sudden explosion of fire in his jaw. Broken. Charlie hastily drew his wand and muttered "mandibulus reparo" over the rapidly growing bruise on Harry's face. The swelling immediately stopped and the bruise began to subside.
Arthur, who had been standing stonily next to the mantlepiece ever since Hermione and Harry had entered the house, suddenly spoke. "Harry, if this is truly what Ron wanted, then I believe that you had no choice in the matter. The Ministry had had Ron pegged as a potential addition to the Controllers of Magical Law. It's a group that only those with the strongest ability to manipulate minds can join, as they have to subdue some of our most dangerous and strong-willed magical folk. He would have had to go through several years of training to hone his abilities to the point where he could consciously control minds, but to hear them tell, he was a very strong subconscious Controller already."
Mrs. Weasley looked startled; Bill, Charlie and George stood with their mouths hanging open. This was obviously news to them, too.
"But there's one thing that I don't understand, Harry," Arthur said. "If this scuttlebutt from the Ministry is true, then Ron could unconsciously make you do anything he needed you to. He obviously knew that he was in a life-or-death situation, but he completely forgot about his sister. He left her to die --" Arthur's voice cracked, but he regained control and continued. "He left her to die, and all the research we have shows that Controllers' family bonds hold the utmost priority. Why did Hermione come first? You're just his girlfriend, after all," Arthur said, turning to Hermione. "No offence, my dear, but what made you so much more special than his family?"
Hermione swallowed hard. Another piece of the puzzle had suddenly fallen into place. "Mr. Weasley," she said softly, "there is more detail to the research than the fact that family ties come first." She forced herself to look up into his eyes. "Family ties are indubitably the strongest impulses for a Controller, but they come at different levels. Of family ties, aunts and uncles are the weakest. Grandparents are slightly stronger, followed by spouses, parents, and siblings..." She bit her lip. She hadn't accepted this yet, and she didn't expect the Weasleys to take it well. "...And the strongest impulses are generated by a Controller's children."
Harry stared at her, comprehension dawning with all the grace and gentleness of a volcanic eruption. "Ron wasn't protecting you," he whispered, eyes wide.
"You're pregnant?" shouted Bill, slamming his hands on the table. "You little slut, you run around, get yourself knocked up, and then abandon your baby's father to his death? And then you have the gall to show up at his parents' house? I'd thought better of you, Hermione Granger." He waved his hand to indicate the hollow stares of Arthur and Mrs. Weasley. "It hurts them enough to know that their youngest children are dead, but to hear that their youngest son loved and trusted someone who was only in it for the sex? It's a death blow, Granger."
No one moved. Hermione's cheeks were stained with tears. Harry was still staring at her, now with a very hurt look in his eyes. Bill was breathing heavily, one hand supporting him on the table, the other half-clenched and hovering above the table. The other Weasleys were frozen.
"Get out of my house," said Mrs. Weasley through stiff lips. "Both of you. Leave and don't come back."
Hermione fled from the room as though released from a chain. After a beat, Harry slowly turned and followed her.
"Oh, Ron," whispered Mrs. Weasley. "What have you done?"
***
Hermione ran blindly from the house, nearly barreling into a large apple tree. She sank to her knees at its base, sobbing and pressing one hand into the rough bark for support. She felt Harry's strong grip on her shoulder and turned and threw herself into his arms.
"How did this happen?" she wailed. "I don't believe it -- I can't be pregnant. It's not right. That doesn't happen to people like me. It -- it happens to people like -- like..." Hermione couldn't finish her thought before another entered her head. "And I'm all alone, too," she said in a small voice, pulling away from Harry, rocking back onto her heels, and brushing her fingertips over her stomach. "I'm pregnant and alone...oh Harry, what am I going to do?" she cried, burying her face in her hands.
"You aren't alone, Minnie," said Harry, gently gathering her in his arms again. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here, no matter what happens to you."
Hermione pushed back suddenly and violently, sending Harry sprawling on the grass. A wild fire danced in her eyes, and her voice was a screech. "No, no, get back, I won't, get your hands off of me, you'll never have me like that --" She scrambled back against the trunk of the tree. Her voice lowered. "Harry Potter, how can I trust you when my world is turning upside down?"
Harry was beside himself. "Minnie, what's wrong with you? We've been friends forever, almost, and --"
"But you want more than that!" shrieked Hermione, grasping the tree and pulling herself behind it. "You wanted me last night, what's to stop you from trying again?"
That brought Harry to a halt. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Minnie, I've made no secret of the fact that I love you. I've loved you as a friend since first year, and I realised a week ago that I love you as more than that now. I know you don't want me, and I can convince myself that I don't want you, and I can just be your friend again if that's what you want. But first you'll have to actually forgive me for that. I won't let you do this alone -- I can't. You need some support, and whether that support comes from your husband or from your best friend, it will be there."
Harry reached out to touch Hermione's face, but she angrily batted his hand away. "Are you insinuating that I'm not strong enough to do this alone?"
"But Hermione --"
"I can go through this alone and I will go through this alone. All through school I've needed your help -- either to get into rooms I wasn't allowed in or to push while I pulled -- but this time I don't need it. This time, it's all on my shoulders, and I won't be needing you or Ron to help me, thank you very much." Hermione huffily turned her back to him.
Harry sadly stood up and called his broom. "Then I should leave you, Minnie," he said, catching it in his hand. "If you don't want help, I shouldn't stay around or I'll be tempted to reach out. I don't want to hurt you." He swung a leg over the handle. "Goodbye, my dear Hermione Granger. Please don't forget me."
He kicked off into the sky, checked his compass, and headed off toward northern Scotland.
"Off to Hogwarts, is he?"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up into the densely foliated branches of the apple tree and noticed a hint of red-orange among the green leaves. Realising who it had to be, she turned away and began to walk quickly toward the road.
"No, Hermione, please don't go," called Fred, hopping down from the bough where he'd been perched.
"You heard?" asked Hermione, not looking at him.
"Every word," said Fred. He came and stood in front of her, bringing her chin up to look in her eyes. He studied her for a moment. "Ron's baby?" he asked. She nodded, tearing her eyes away from his. He removed his hand and Hermione braced herself for a blow like Harry had taken, but no such blow landed. She opened her eyes and saw Fred just staring at her.
"And Harry?" he asked, with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"No, it wasn't what it sounded like," said Hermione quickly. "He never tried to rape me or anything, I just overreacted to something he told me last night."
"That he loves you?"
Hermione looked sharply at Fred, but his face did not seem to hold any vestiges of the ire it had harboured earlier. "Yes," she said. "Harry loves me. And I don't know what I feel for him. I knew I'd have to address it at some point, but I never really wanted to. I love Ron. He's all I ever wanted...you understand that, don't you, Fred?" she asked, her eyes pleading.
"I understand, Hermione. I realised during that conversation that neither of you are to blame. Ron was acting on instinct -- he was up for Controller, you know," he added. Seeing Hermione's nod, he continued. "And you and Harry aren't yourselves. There's a lot of stress on the wizarding community right now, and we all know that You-Know-Who isn't going to stop with the train incident. He stirred up some emotions in the community, and when people act on emotions, they're so predictable even Trelawney could tell you what they're going to do." Fred smile was wan. "He's destroying us from the inside out, Minnie. I don't know what we're going to do."
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to go back to the Muggle world and live in the dark, but I have no place to stay in the wizarding world. I don't have enough money to get myself a place, and your mother kicked me out."
Fred smiled and pulled Hermione into a bear hug. "Let's just see if we can't get the permanency of that mandate altered."
Hermione looked at him in amazement. "You used multisyllabic words...there is hope for humanity..."
Fred grinned and ushered her back into the Burrow. "Don't worry, Minnie, I have no idea what I just said."
=====
A/N: There you have it, a nice long chapter with minimal cliffhanger and a lighthearted ending. Your reward for sticking it out over that lovely month-long dry spell.
Big thanks to LeBA for helping me get over my bump -- Fred originally slapped Harry across the face, and then the chapter just slammed to a halt. She pointed out that slapping was far too effeminate for Fred, and the rest of the chapter wrote itself. I love when things I make up work out this nicely all by themselves!
Another big thanks to myimmortal for the wonderful review on chapter five, which proclaimed this "one of the best and thought out stories of all time" -- a beautiful compliment, "and so, of course, not true." (--Meriadoc Brandybuck, The Fellowship of the Ring) I was also termed "Shorty," which I assume is an extreme coincidence having nothing to do with my actual stature (short).
soapbox I was reading a fanfic wherein the author had no opening or closing remarks, no acknowledgements, no nothing. It made for a very smooth read, however, I personally enjoy reading about how the story develops. A smooth read is more for polished, published lit, whereas reading a story as it's being written is more an involvement in the process and I like reading about that. /soapbox
Summary: At the Burrow. Fred has mood swings.
=====
Several hours later, Hermione woke up to a gentle thump as Harry landed the Firebolt in front of the Burrow. The dilapidated house still seemed to be propped up primarily with magic, even though Seamus Finnigan had supposedly come over and done some fixing-up last summer with his dad's Muggle construction team.
The boisterous atmosphere that typically pervaded the premises was noticeably absent, though. A few birds chirped from the trees nearby, but no squeals, screams or laughter floated out from the house. Even the garden gnomes were silent. Hermione and Harry walked cautiously up to the front door and peered in the window.
Bill sat slumped over the table with his head in his hands. Mrs. Weasley was staring straight-backed at the wall, mouthing syllables that didn't make words. Arthur was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, glancing up at their extraordinary clock every few minutes to see if two of the hands had moved from their positions between "in mortal peril" and "school". As Hermione squinted, she could see that the pictures on each of the hands had disappeared and a few springs were lying on the mantle below the clock.
Harry reached past Hermione and pushed open the door. All three Weasleys looked up quickly at the squeak. Charlie's head appeared at the top of the stairs, followed closely by Fred and George. "Hello, Hermione, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley vaguely. "Do come in..."
Fred and George flew down the stairs. Fred grabbed Harry by the shirt collar and threw him into a chair while George pulled Hermione into the kitchen by the arm.
"What the bloody hell happened out there?" Fred exploded. "Mum gets a little nudge from Ron on the platform, and then boom, all the parents with any Divination talent at all are on their knees screaming. We get word later that the train blew up and no one survived, but yet here you two are, alive and well! Why weren't you on the train!? WHERE ARE GINNY AND RON?" Fred's red face contrasted sharply with his hair, making his tirade all the more intimidating. Harry said nothing.
"We tried," said Hermione in a small voice. "I never saw Ginny after we got on the train, but we could have saved Ron. Ron wouldn't let us. He --" Her voice cracked and she quickly looked away from Mrs. Weasley's contorted face. There was no way she would want to hear what Hermione was about to say. "He said he valued my life over his."
"So he is dead." Bill's voice held no question.
"Yes." The word stuck painfully in Hermione's throat.
Bill's eyes flashed and his right hand twitched toward his wand. "And you did nothing? You let him die -- you didn't value his life as much as your own. Some loving, caring soul mate you made, Hermione," he spat.
"Bill, Ginny died too," Harry said quietly, eyes averted.
"How do you know?" asked Fred sharply.
Harry could feel the icily intimidating stares of six Weasleys on his neck, but he couldn't keep the truth from them. "I heard her scream," he whispered.
The silence was louder than any noise Hermione could think of. Fred stared at Harry's downcast face for a full minute, then, with a sickening crack, his fist connected with Harry's jaw.
George and Charlie jumped on Fred, hauling him away from Harry before any more harm could be done. He struggled for a moment, but after he regained control he broke away from George and Charlie. "You bastard," he said, walking past Harry and out of the kitchen.
Harry sat, frozen. He felt a tear slide slowly down his face. Humiliated, he jabbed a finger at the drop and gave a muffled cry at the sudden explosion of fire in his jaw. Broken. Charlie hastily drew his wand and muttered "mandibulus reparo" over the rapidly growing bruise on Harry's face. The swelling immediately stopped and the bruise began to subside.
Arthur, who had been standing stonily next to the mantlepiece ever since Hermione and Harry had entered the house, suddenly spoke. "Harry, if this is truly what Ron wanted, then I believe that you had no choice in the matter. The Ministry had had Ron pegged as a potential addition to the Controllers of Magical Law. It's a group that only those with the strongest ability to manipulate minds can join, as they have to subdue some of our most dangerous and strong-willed magical folk. He would have had to go through several years of training to hone his abilities to the point where he could consciously control minds, but to hear them tell, he was a very strong subconscious Controller already."
Mrs. Weasley looked startled; Bill, Charlie and George stood with their mouths hanging open. This was obviously news to them, too.
"But there's one thing that I don't understand, Harry," Arthur said. "If this scuttlebutt from the Ministry is true, then Ron could unconsciously make you do anything he needed you to. He obviously knew that he was in a life-or-death situation, but he completely forgot about his sister. He left her to die --" Arthur's voice cracked, but he regained control and continued. "He left her to die, and all the research we have shows that Controllers' family bonds hold the utmost priority. Why did Hermione come first? You're just his girlfriend, after all," Arthur said, turning to Hermione. "No offence, my dear, but what made you so much more special than his family?"
Hermione swallowed hard. Another piece of the puzzle had suddenly fallen into place. "Mr. Weasley," she said softly, "there is more detail to the research than the fact that family ties come first." She forced herself to look up into his eyes. "Family ties are indubitably the strongest impulses for a Controller, but they come at different levels. Of family ties, aunts and uncles are the weakest. Grandparents are slightly stronger, followed by spouses, parents, and siblings..." She bit her lip. She hadn't accepted this yet, and she didn't expect the Weasleys to take it well. "...And the strongest impulses are generated by a Controller's children."
Harry stared at her, comprehension dawning with all the grace and gentleness of a volcanic eruption. "Ron wasn't protecting you," he whispered, eyes wide.
"You're pregnant?" shouted Bill, slamming his hands on the table. "You little slut, you run around, get yourself knocked up, and then abandon your baby's father to his death? And then you have the gall to show up at his parents' house? I'd thought better of you, Hermione Granger." He waved his hand to indicate the hollow stares of Arthur and Mrs. Weasley. "It hurts them enough to know that their youngest children are dead, but to hear that their youngest son loved and trusted someone who was only in it for the sex? It's a death blow, Granger."
No one moved. Hermione's cheeks were stained with tears. Harry was still staring at her, now with a very hurt look in his eyes. Bill was breathing heavily, one hand supporting him on the table, the other half-clenched and hovering above the table. The other Weasleys were frozen.
"Get out of my house," said Mrs. Weasley through stiff lips. "Both of you. Leave and don't come back."
Hermione fled from the room as though released from a chain. After a beat, Harry slowly turned and followed her.
"Oh, Ron," whispered Mrs. Weasley. "What have you done?"
***
Hermione ran blindly from the house, nearly barreling into a large apple tree. She sank to her knees at its base, sobbing and pressing one hand into the rough bark for support. She felt Harry's strong grip on her shoulder and turned and threw herself into his arms.
"How did this happen?" she wailed. "I don't believe it -- I can't be pregnant. It's not right. That doesn't happen to people like me. It -- it happens to people like -- like..." Hermione couldn't finish her thought before another entered her head. "And I'm all alone, too," she said in a small voice, pulling away from Harry, rocking back onto her heels, and brushing her fingertips over her stomach. "I'm pregnant and alone...oh Harry, what am I going to do?" she cried, burying her face in her hands.
"You aren't alone, Minnie," said Harry, gently gathering her in his arms again. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here, no matter what happens to you."
Hermione pushed back suddenly and violently, sending Harry sprawling on the grass. A wild fire danced in her eyes, and her voice was a screech. "No, no, get back, I won't, get your hands off of me, you'll never have me like that --" She scrambled back against the trunk of the tree. Her voice lowered. "Harry Potter, how can I trust you when my world is turning upside down?"
Harry was beside himself. "Minnie, what's wrong with you? We've been friends forever, almost, and --"
"But you want more than that!" shrieked Hermione, grasping the tree and pulling herself behind it. "You wanted me last night, what's to stop you from trying again?"
That brought Harry to a halt. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Minnie, I've made no secret of the fact that I love you. I've loved you as a friend since first year, and I realised a week ago that I love you as more than that now. I know you don't want me, and I can convince myself that I don't want you, and I can just be your friend again if that's what you want. But first you'll have to actually forgive me for that. I won't let you do this alone -- I can't. You need some support, and whether that support comes from your husband or from your best friend, it will be there."
Harry reached out to touch Hermione's face, but she angrily batted his hand away. "Are you insinuating that I'm not strong enough to do this alone?"
"But Hermione --"
"I can go through this alone and I will go through this alone. All through school I've needed your help -- either to get into rooms I wasn't allowed in or to push while I pulled -- but this time I don't need it. This time, it's all on my shoulders, and I won't be needing you or Ron to help me, thank you very much." Hermione huffily turned her back to him.
Harry sadly stood up and called his broom. "Then I should leave you, Minnie," he said, catching it in his hand. "If you don't want help, I shouldn't stay around or I'll be tempted to reach out. I don't want to hurt you." He swung a leg over the handle. "Goodbye, my dear Hermione Granger. Please don't forget me."
He kicked off into the sky, checked his compass, and headed off toward northern Scotland.
"Off to Hogwarts, is he?"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up into the densely foliated branches of the apple tree and noticed a hint of red-orange among the green leaves. Realising who it had to be, she turned away and began to walk quickly toward the road.
"No, Hermione, please don't go," called Fred, hopping down from the bough where he'd been perched.
"You heard?" asked Hermione, not looking at him.
"Every word," said Fred. He came and stood in front of her, bringing her chin up to look in her eyes. He studied her for a moment. "Ron's baby?" he asked. She nodded, tearing her eyes away from his. He removed his hand and Hermione braced herself for a blow like Harry had taken, but no such blow landed. She opened her eyes and saw Fred just staring at her.
"And Harry?" he asked, with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"No, it wasn't what it sounded like," said Hermione quickly. "He never tried to rape me or anything, I just overreacted to something he told me last night."
"That he loves you?"
Hermione looked sharply at Fred, but his face did not seem to hold any vestiges of the ire it had harboured earlier. "Yes," she said. "Harry loves me. And I don't know what I feel for him. I knew I'd have to address it at some point, but I never really wanted to. I love Ron. He's all I ever wanted...you understand that, don't you, Fred?" she asked, her eyes pleading.
"I understand, Hermione. I realised during that conversation that neither of you are to blame. Ron was acting on instinct -- he was up for Controller, you know," he added. Seeing Hermione's nod, he continued. "And you and Harry aren't yourselves. There's a lot of stress on the wizarding community right now, and we all know that You-Know-Who isn't going to stop with the train incident. He stirred up some emotions in the community, and when people act on emotions, they're so predictable even Trelawney could tell you what they're going to do." Fred smile was wan. "He's destroying us from the inside out, Minnie. I don't know what we're going to do."
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to go back to the Muggle world and live in the dark, but I have no place to stay in the wizarding world. I don't have enough money to get myself a place, and your mother kicked me out."
Fred smiled and pulled Hermione into a bear hug. "Let's just see if we can't get the permanency of that mandate altered."
Hermione looked at him in amazement. "You used multisyllabic words...there is hope for humanity..."
Fred grinned and ushered her back into the Burrow. "Don't worry, Minnie, I have no idea what I just said."
=====
A/N: There you have it, a nice long chapter with minimal cliffhanger and a lighthearted ending. Your reward for sticking it out over that lovely month-long dry spell.
Big thanks to LeBA for helping me get over my bump -- Fred originally slapped Harry across the face, and then the chapter just slammed to a halt. She pointed out that slapping was far too effeminate for Fred, and the rest of the chapter wrote itself. I love when things I make up work out this nicely all by themselves!
Another big thanks to myimmortal for the wonderful review on chapter five, which proclaimed this "one of the best and thought out stories of all time" -- a beautiful compliment, "and so, of course, not true." (--Meriadoc Brandybuck, The Fellowship of the Ring) I was also termed "Shorty," which I assume is an extreme coincidence having nothing to do with my actual stature (short).
soapbox I was reading a fanfic wherein the author had no opening or closing remarks, no acknowledgements, no nothing. It made for a very smooth read, however, I personally enjoy reading about how the story develops. A smooth read is more for polished, published lit, whereas reading a story as it's being written is more an involvement in the process and I like reading about that. /soapbox