Part Four: The One Who Lived
In an instant, it clicked-- the tone of Fred's voice, the look on his face, his very presence in her home-- it was all a set up! Enraged, she yanked herself from her perch on the chair. Brandishing a fist in the air as though to strike him, she bellowed, "Fred Weasley, if you think for one minute that you're going to come in here and try to tell me that--" A sharp intake of breath from the doorway told Hermione that she was not free to speak. In a single graceful movement, Hermione dragged Fred out of the chair by his collar and pulled him swiftly into the hall, where she continued. "If you think that just because you've come and found me, I've got to feel abliged to start taking orders from Minister Finch-Fletchy again--"
"If you remember correctly, Justin Finch-Fletchy was your friend at Hogwarts, which, by the way, isn't in London!" Fred was shouting now, his face red, his hands flailing as he paced--one-two--the width of the hall.And then, abruptly as he had begun, he stopped. Inches from Hermione, he stopped, turning to face her as he dropped his voice to a nearly inaudible whisper. "That's not why I'm here, Hermione. You know perfectly well that I don't work for the Ministry, and even if I did, I would've just sent you an owl!"
"Bloody mess that would have been, owls with postage swooping round this neighborhood in plain sight of the children..."
"Hermione!!" Fred's eyes were wide and bulging as he grabbed Hermione's shoulders roughly, ablaze with a passion she had never yet seen in him. "I am here because I need your help. I need it, Hermione. Me. Not the Ministry, not Justin, not Hogwarts, just me. Fred." If Hermione thought that his face could not come any closer without colliding with her own, she was wrong. Fred's face was pink and sweaty as it inched ever-closer to Hermione's, its nose touching hers on the end as he spoke-- harsh, grating, deftly quiet. "You remember me, don't you? Ron's brother...The one who lived?"
In an instant, it clicked-- the tone of Fred's voice, the look on his face, his very presence in her home-- it was all a set up! Enraged, she yanked herself from her perch on the chair. Brandishing a fist in the air as though to strike him, she bellowed, "Fred Weasley, if you think for one minute that you're going to come in here and try to tell me that--" A sharp intake of breath from the doorway told Hermione that she was not free to speak. In a single graceful movement, Hermione dragged Fred out of the chair by his collar and pulled him swiftly into the hall, where she continued. "If you think that just because you've come and found me, I've got to feel abliged to start taking orders from Minister Finch-Fletchy again--"
"If you remember correctly, Justin Finch-Fletchy was your friend at Hogwarts, which, by the way, isn't in London!" Fred was shouting now, his face red, his hands flailing as he paced--one-two--the width of the hall.And then, abruptly as he had begun, he stopped. Inches from Hermione, he stopped, turning to face her as he dropped his voice to a nearly inaudible whisper. "That's not why I'm here, Hermione. You know perfectly well that I don't work for the Ministry, and even if I did, I would've just sent you an owl!"
"Bloody mess that would have been, owls with postage swooping round this neighborhood in plain sight of the children..."
"Hermione!!" Fred's eyes were wide and bulging as he grabbed Hermione's shoulders roughly, ablaze with a passion she had never yet seen in him. "I am here because I need your help. I need it, Hermione. Me. Not the Ministry, not Justin, not Hogwarts, just me. Fred." If Hermione thought that his face could not come any closer without colliding with her own, she was wrong. Fred's face was pink and sweaty as it inched ever-closer to Hermione's, its nose touching hers on the end as he spoke-- harsh, grating, deftly quiet. "You remember me, don't you? Ron's brother...The one who lived?"