For the Archaeology Assignment [Analysis] on the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum.
i.
At the familiar chime of the shop's bell, Fred looked up from the counter. He was ready to call out and warn the visitor that the shop would be closing shortly, but the words faded in his throat when he recognised the witch stepping over the threshold.
"Hermione!" His tone was warm and cheerful as he flicked his wand at the closing door behind her, locking it for the night. "What can we do for you?"
Hermione made her way deftly through the store towards him. It was only when she was right in front of him that he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders.
"I was wondering if you had any Dreamless Sleep Potion you could spare," she said, her fingers fiddling with the loose strands of her scarf. "I wouldn't ask, only I've run out and the Apothecary's already closed. I suppose I can ask Harry… It's just I was walking past and I thought—"
"It's fine. Really, you don't have to explain," Fred interrupted. He gestured to the storeroom door behind the counter. "I just have to deal with the till. Do you wanna head upstairs? I'll be up a minute."
"Yeah. Thanks."
By the time Fred had made it upstairs, Hermione was still standing, awkward and stiff, by the kitchen counter. Her fingers drummed against the surface. If he noticed that she'd jumped, her free hand tightening around her wand, when he entered the flat, he didn't say anything. Instead, he set about rummaging through the cupboards. Finally, he turned to her, several vials in his outstretched hand.
"Oh, just one is fine," Hermione said. "I'll stop by the Apothecary tomorrow."
But Fred wasn't having it. "Just take them, Hermione. We both know you'll use them eventually."
"And you wouldn't?"
"Well..." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah. But probably not as quickly as you."
She couldn't exactly argue with that. While no one in the family could claim that they weren't plagued by nightmares from time to time, it was well known that some suffered more than others. And Hermione knew that he'd heard her screams echo through the Burrow's thin walls in the night and been privy to Harry and Ron's hushed worries in the morning. So, she opened her beaded bag and beckoned for him to drop them in, only offering a small smile as thanks.
"I dream that I'm under the wall again..." Fred said suddenly, filling the silence. "Sometimes I wake up and it's hard to breathe."
"Huh." Hermione looked thoughtful. Then, after a beat of silence, she added, "I dream about the wall too."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"I dream about the wall too," she repeated, already turning and making her way to their fireplace. She didn't look back when she said, "I'll just use your Floo, if that's all right."
And Fred was all of a sudden alone, mouth agape and staring at empty space she'd left.
ii.
"Did you know that Hermione has nightmares?"
George looked bleary-eyed at his brother over his coffee cup. "Yeah. Don't we all? Hard not to, innit?"
"Well, yeah. I'd just thought hers would be about Malfoy Manor. You know, the…" Fred hesitated, his hands flailing as he tried to coax the words to the tip of his tongue. "The torture."
"And they aren't?"
"Nah. She said… Mate, she said hers are about the wall."
At this, George stiffened. "Your wall?"
"Yeah." Fred stared blankly at his own cup, still untouched. "Do you think it means something?"
"It means that Hermione and I have something in common," he replied dryly.
"But you make sense. You were…" Fred trailed off. Even now, he didn't like to say it out loud. "You thought I was dead. You were scared of losing me."
"Maybe she was scared of losing you too."
"Right."
A grin crept onto George's face. "At least she's dreaming about you. That's all you've ever wanted, isn't it?"
"Shut it."
iii.
Fred asked Ginny about it by accident. Or at least, he didn't mean to. They were sky high, half-heartedly passing a Quaffle between them, when it just slipped out.
"Of course she has nightmares, Fred," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Why are you even asking? I know you've... I know you've heard her, back when you and George were at the Burrow."
Fred fumbled with the ball. "Yeah, but did you know she dreams about the wall?"
"Well, she was there, wasn't she?" Ginny asked. At his nod, she continued, "Then it's hardly surprising. You were crushed right in front of her. It would be weirder if she didn't dream about it, wouldn't it?"
"Suppose so."
The two flew to the ground, Ginny stifling a laugh when Fred stumbled on the landing.
"It's really bothering you," she said, grinning.
"It's not bothering me. I was just surprised."
"So, what's bothering you about it?" Ginny asked. "That she's having nightmares? That you don't get to comfort her about it? That you're finally in her dreams and you're—"
"Gin!"
This time, Ginny's laugh echoed loud and true. "Am I wrong?"
"I just want to know why."
"Then I guess you'll have to ask her."
iv.
"Did you know Hermione—"
"Is this about the wall thing?" Ron asked, groaning. "Fucking hell. Ginny said you were being weird about it."
"I'm not being weird about it!" Fred exclaimed, too quickly and loudly to be telling the truth. He quickly composed himself. "I'm just curious."
"Definitely being weird about it," Ron mumbled under his breath.
And since asking anything else would definitely have meant being weird about it, Fred didn't press the issue. Instead, he took a drink from his pint and listened quietly as Ron launched into stories about his recent Auror training.
But the topic wasn't entirely forgotten, because when the two brothers left the pub and walked into the cobbled stones of Diagon Alley, Ron took a deep breath. His hands were deep in his pockets and he shifted from side to side.
"If you're curious, you should ask her about it," he said finally, his eyes trained on the ground below him. "I don't think she'd mind."
v.
When George came up to the shop's counter and sent Fred on his lunch break, he had a small smirk on his face. And so, Fred shouldn't have been surprised when he walked into the flat and saw Hermione sitting at the kitchen table.
"Here." Hermione pushed the small box towards him. The clinking of the glass vials inside filled the room. "Figured I should replenish your stash."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know." She gave him a small smile. "But then I wouldn't have had an excuse to come over."
"You don't need an excuse to—"
"I know." Hermione looked at him imploringly. "And you don't need an excuse to ask me a question... You know, if there was a question you wanted to ask."
"Ah."
She was still smiling at him when she reached out, her fingers curling around his wrist. "George told me. And Ginny. And Ron."
Fred's throat went dry. But she was staring at him so intently, her fingers felt so warm against his skin and the curiosity was damn near killing him, so he managed to ask, "Why do you dream about the wall, Hermione?"
"I really thought you'd died, Fred. I was terrified." She pursed her lips, considering her next words. "It's not that I don't dream about the Manor. I do. But I dream about the wall more."
"But why?"
"Because I thought you'd died. I forget, sometimes, that you didn't." Her grip on him tightened. Then she echoed his words back to him, "Sometimes I wake up and it's hard to breathe."
"I'm alive. I..."
"I know." Releasing his wrist, she moved her hand rest on his cheek. "I just forget sometimes."
But it didn't feel like quite enough, so he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers. He couldn't help but smile when she, without a moment's hesitation, pressed back.
vi.
Months later, when Hermione woke up in the night in a cold sweat and tears running down her cheeks, Fred was there, pulling her closer to him. She laid there, resting her head against his chest. The beat of his heart thrummed against her ear, lulling her back to reality.
"I'm alive," he murmured, his hands tangled in her hair. "I'm alive, Hermione."
"You're alive."
