Chapter 3: I Heard You Talk, But Your Lips Never Moved

Hermione felt the car ease to a stop at the first red light, clearly agitated at Fred's incessant changing of the radio stations. "Could you please stop?" she finally asked, deciding that her sanity was more important than his feelings. Fred smiled at her as he leaned back in the seat, the radio left on a random station.

She had only been in the car for fifteen minutes and the twins had already turned each other's hair different colors and tried to slip a canary cream in the snack her mum had packed for her. And she still had another hour and fifteen minutes to go. She shuddered at the thought. How was she going to get through this…situation…with Fred if she couldn't stand to be with him for five minutes at a time?

It was amazing really, how she got herself into these situations. She had always been the one to enforce the rules, but, more often than not, she found herself breaking them—especially with Harry and Ron. And now, she was inhabiting Fred's body in her dreams and traveling to Grimmauld Place by means of muggle transportation because the Wizarding World was no longer safe.

And so the journey continued. She vaguely registered Fred and George's voices as her mind raced with thoughts of the war and the mystery that was Fred Weasley. She was thankful that the car was practically driving itself, for she would have missed the intricate turns it took to get to Grimmauld Place. George had placed a charm on her car before they left her house that would allow them to arrive at their destination without actually knowing how to get there herself (it was safer that way, George had assured her). All she had to do was sit in the driver's seat and pretend to drive (though she would have had no problem bringing them there, she had assured the twins. Her parents had given her the car and taught her how to drive it the summer before).

They arrived at Grimmauld Place exactly one hour and fifteen minutes later; just after the sun set. Fred had proceeded to put out the lights on the street with the putter-outer that Dumbledore had leant them. But instead of seeing the rickety door she expected, she was greeted with and old garage door. Since when did Wizarding families—especially the Blacks—need a garage? As if reading her mind, Fred answered. "Dumbledore added it so you could have a place to park your car," he explained cheerfully as the car pulled itself into the garage and the door creaked closed behind them. She nodded her head in understanding and stepped through a door leading into the house. The commotion she was greeted with was not the warm welcome she was expecting.

"I will not stay in this nut house any longer!" Vernon Dursley's voice boomed down the halls of the old mansion. "I demand to be brought back to my home immediately!" his voice reverberated into the foyer as Hermione noted that his face highly resembled that of a tomato.

"And exactly what home would that be?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked coolly as Hermione, Fred and George watched silently from the doorway.

Vernon's face turned from red to violet and large veins in his neck and forehead began to pulse erratically. "All of our possessions were in that house! They're all ashes now! Ashes! We took the boy in, out of the kindness of our hearts," he roared, and Hermione silently scoffed at the statement. "And this is how you repay us! I will not bloody stand for it!"

"You do not have a choice in the matter!" Dumbledore swept into the room, his voice holding the power and finality it took to make Vernon shake where he stood. As Vernon exited, he took the anger and tension with him and a feeling of calmness settled over the room. Dumbledore smiled warmly at Hermione, "Ah, I see that you got here safely, Miss Granger."

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. Are Harry and Ron upstairs?" she inquired.

"Yes, yes of course. I'm sure the boys will assist you in getting your things upstairs. Now if you'll excuse me, there is an Order meeting that I must attend." He exited the room much like he had entered.

"So we can't be members of the Order because we dropped out of school, but we can be chauffeurs? Nutters I tell you! The lot of them!" George nodded his head in agreement as he lazily levitated her luggage up the stairs. "The rooms are the same as last summer," George informed her. "You're the first door on the right with Ginny and Ron and Harry are across the hall." He idly flicked his wrist and her luggage fell to the floor in front of one of the beds.

Hermione couldn't help but feel the tension in the air as she sat at the long kitchen table. Most of the Order had dispersed on different tasks and the Weasley's, Dursley's, Harry and Hermione were sitting silently at the table. Dudley was whimpering as he stared at the food on his plate and Petunia was glowering at Mrs. Weasley, who had refused to let her cook. Not that the Weasley's didn't have their own drama to worry about.

Percy had apparated in to the kitchen (causing Dudley to screech in fear of another attack) just before everyone had sat down to dinner and informed the group that: "he had realized his mistakes and that he was willing to forgive and forget as long as everyone else did the same". It was obvious that his pride was still fully intact (as he had not apologized to any member of the family for what he had put them through), but Mrs. Weasley had welcomed him back with open arms and immediately added another plate for him at the table. Needless to say, the other family members weren't as welcoming. Fred and George were mentally plotting their revenge while Ron glared daggers at him across the table and Ginny ate her meal, staying unusually silent.

Hermione had noted her silence early on and had made a mental note to talk to her about it later that night, but she observed that Fred had taken notice of her stillness. As she glanced back down at her plate to take another bite of her food, she heard Fred speak. "She's going to forgive the bloody git," he said in disbelief.

Hermione sighed mentally. Don't get mad at her for loving her brother. She said silently. The table was not the place to start such a discussion, and it really wasn't any of her business anyway.

The loud clanging of a fork bouncing from a plate to the floor caused Hermione to look up from her meal. Fred's hand was still hanging in midair between his plate and his mouth. He was staring directly at her, and she immediately felt uncomfortable under his gaze. What was wrong? Then she noticed him swallow the food that had been in his mouth. He had been eating. Silently. So that meant…Hermione's eyes grew the size of saucer's. She had read his mind without even realizing it! And he had heard what she had said! The little conversation that had gone on around them had come to a stop as everyone stared at the two. "I'm…I'm not feeling all that well. May I be excused?" she asked quietly. Mrs. Weasley nodded her head, asking if she needed anything. Hermione shook her head and calmly walked out of the kitchen. As soon as she got to the stairs, she bolted up to her room.

She immediately began searching through her trunk. She pulled a large red book out of the bottom of her trunk and immediately flipped to page 124. "In wizards, the most common symptoms of a bond are: the sharing of dreams, the reading of others minds and shared thoughts (which is normally confused as natural Legilimency or telepathy manifesting itself), persona switches (when the personality of the two witch/wizards are switched between bodies), and in the most extreme cases, the forcing of two minds into one body, leaving the other comatose."

She groaned aloud as Fred stepped into the room and lay on her bed. "I heard you talk, but your lips never moved," he informed her. "And I didn't say that I was mad at Ginny out loud."

"I know. I didn't realize it at first, but…" she trailed off, not able to finish the thought. "It's in the book you know. One of the symptoms of bonds is shared thoughts."

"You really think we're…bonded," he restated uneasily. It was odd for either of them to hear it aloud.

Hermione sighed as she reread the passage. It certainly didn't make any sense. The only traumatic thing she had even come close to witnessing was the death of Sirius, but she had been unconscious throughout the ordeal and Fred hadn't even been there. "Others have been reportedly created by as a tool used in the fulfilling certain strong prophecies, such as one about ending a war…" A prophecy. The thought was almost laughable. Ending the war was Harry's job. He had the scar (and enough of Voldemort's attention) to prove it. Was there some other war in some other realm that she didn't know about it? Not likely. Fred laughed. "I totally agree," he said, before growing silent.

Hermione groaned. "We're really going to have to get control of…whatever it is that's happening. I really don't feel comfortable knowing that someone can just enter my thoughts whenever they please."

"And I don't feel comfortable entering someone's thoughts without knowing I'm doing it," he agreed. "You know…" he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "It's not likely that we're apart of a prophecy, but I also didn't think it was likely that my idol would be the "murderer" Sirius Black—or that he would have been innocent at all."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "But how do we get proof?" she asked him as she plopped down on the bed beside him.

He rolled onto his side, and, dropping his head right next to her ear, he whispered, "By breaking into the Department of Mysteries of course! You know the way don't you?" Hermione was about to reply when she heard Ginny clear her throat. She looked up to see her leaning casually against the frame of the door, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You seem to be feeling better Hermione," she said, her voice full of mirth. She turned her attention to her brother. "You seem to be comfortable." Hermione felt her face heat up at Ginny's sly accusations. Fred smiled cheekily as he scooted closer to Hermione, closing the gap between them. "Very," he replied, as he buried his head into the crook of her neck, his body shaking desperately with his attempts to control his laughter. Hermione blushed a deeper crimson, and after what seemed like a lifetime, he finally got up and sauntered to the door. "Bye honey. I hope we can do this again sometime," he said with mock love in his voice, and then, he blew her an overly flirtatious kiss and walked out the door. Hermione wondered if it was possible for all the blood in her body to rush directly to her cheeks (because it certainly felt that way) as she buried her head into a pillow. Ginny slammed the door and pounced on to Hermione's bed.

"I want every single detail about what's going on between you and my brother and I want them all now!"

A/N: I know that this chapter isn't very long, but it is vital to the story. The chapters should be getting longer as I get into the plot of the story, but for now, please bear with me. Constructive critisism is highly appreciated. Thanks for all of the reviews. They mean a lot to me.

Kaitlyn