My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 37: The Other Weasleys
No 12 Grimmauld Place, London, Britain, Wizarding World, December 22nd, 2005
"Dobby? You work for Harry?" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes, Mistress Hermione," the creature replied.
"I hired him when we moved in here," Harry the wizard explained with a shrug.
"And Dobby is very grateful for the honour to be working for the great Harry Potter and his family!"
"Did you get your memories back?" Hermione asked in a hopeful voice.
The creature's ears drooped. "Dobby is sorry; Dobby did not. But other elves told Dobby all about Harry Potter!"
"Oh." Hermione's smile vanished.
Ron blinked. Elves? Elves weren't supposed to look like that! Dobby looked like a goblin or something, not like an elf.
"Dobby is sorry, Mistress Hermione. But didn't Mistress know that already?"
"She's the real Hermione," Ron's counterpart said. "Not the portrait."
"Dad? Mum? Mum? Dad?" James looked confused, Ron noted, the boy's head moving left and right as he looked down at them.
"Two Mums and Dads!" Jean exclaimed, pointing at them.
"We're not your Mum and Dad," Ginny said.
"But you look like!" James protested.
Ron frowned - they should have disguised themselves before travelling. Sloppy.
"They're your parents' counterparts from another dimension. That's why they look like them," Luna told them.
The confused expressions of the two toddlers made it clear that the explanation had gone way over their heads. Which was a good thing since they were trying to keep the dimensional travel a secret.
Ginny's counterpart, meanwhile, had drawn her wand. "James! Jean! You have to go back to bed. It's nap time."
"Don't wanna!" James protested. "Not sleepy!"
"Mum! Can I stay?" Jean asked - and she was looking at Ron's sister with a hopeful smile.
Ron chuckled. That girl would be a handful.
"I'm not your mum," Ginny said.
"I'm your mum," her counterpart said in a firm tone. "And I'm sending you to bed now!"
"Dobby is sorry."
"It's not your fault, Dobby," Harry's counterpart said. "We should've spelled the door."
"I did," Ginny the witch told him. "They must have used accidental magic."
"Tunnels!" James said, beaming at them.
"Or the house-elf passageways," she added with a sigh.
"Dobby is sorry."
"Mum! No!"
"Please, Mum! I sleep later!"
"You didn't make the twins their godfathers, did you?" Ron asked while Dobby picked up Jean and Ginny's counterpart stopped James, who was trying to make a break for it. Ron glanced at Harry's counterpart when the wizard didn't answer right away and blinked. He knew that expression. "You did."
Harry the wizard shrugged in a familiar way. Ron's counterpart chuckled. "They thought I'd be an honorary uncle anyway, so there was no need to make me a godfather."
"Honestly!" Hermione said, shaking her head. But she was smiling as well.
"So, let's move to the living room," Harry the wizard said. "Ginny'll join us in a minute." He opened the door in the back and waved them forward.
It looked like the interior layout wasn't any different from Sirius and Harry's home, either, Ron noted as they followed the wizard.
"They're so cute!" he heard Luna say behind him. "Do you think your kids will look like them?"
"Ah…" It seemed Ginny was at a loss for words.
"That is very unlikely." Hermione, of course, wasn't. "They would be born years later than their counterparts."
"My counterpart was decades older than I am," Dumbledore pointed out.
"Which is an anomaly," Hermione replied. "Although it does require further research. If there are more counterparts with an age difference, especially if born after my arrival in your world, then that would throw an entirely new light on fundamental assumptions about the laws of the universe. And on Divination."
"One problem at a time," Ron's counterpart said. "You can always do research later."
"Very often, research is necessary to solve a problem," Hermione retorted, a little sharply in Ron's opinion.
"Research into politics in this case," Harry the wizard cut in as he opened the door to the living room. Which was sporting more modern furniture, although no telly or anything more advanced than an old-fashioned radio, Ron noted. "Let me duplicate the couch," the wizard added.
A moment later, two more couches appeared, and the room had grown accordingly. Ron glanced at Hermione; she seemed to be impressed at the display, but she didn't comment as she took a seat on the original couch. He joined her.
"Drinks anyone?" Wizarding Harry asked. "You're invited to lunch, of course, but it's a little early."
"And Mum will cook a feast for dinner, once she hears about your return," Ron's counterpart said. He checked the time on an old-fashioned pocket watch, Ron noted. "I'll need to tell her and Dad, of course. And Lavender. Lavender first - Dad won't be home for lunch yet."
"Will she be able to keep the secret?" Hermione asked. "I'd rather not have half our year showing up."
"She's not a teenager any more," Ron the wizard replied, frowning.
Hermione pressed her lips together but didn't retort. Instead, she looked at Harry's counterpart.
"I thought Dobby was happy at Hogwarts."
"He was. But, you know, working for a famous family is seen as more prestigious among elves," the wizard replied. "And, well, he's earned it, hasn't he?"
"Of course." Hermione didn't look as if she was satisfied, though.
"Oh, Hermione, lighten up," Ron's counterpart blurted out. "People aren't allowed to obliviate elves any more."
She looked almost shocked. "You changed the law?"
"We did," he told her. "Telling people that Voldemort might not have returned if we had been able to prove that Malfoy was behind the Basilisk attacks pretty much sold that law, Dad said."
"Ah." She slowly nodded.
"Politics," Harry's counterpart said with a slight sneer.
"You don't agree?" Hermione asked, sounding surprised.
Before the wizard could answer, Ginny's counterpart returned. "They're back in their beds, and the entrance to the house-elf passages is now spelled shut." She sat down next to Harry's counterpart and sighed. "I'm blaming you for that."
"What?"
"Well, they didn't get that from me; I was never such an unruly child," she explained.
Ron chuckled; that sounded exactly like his sister - who wasn't amused, as he found out when he glanced at her.
The other Ron snorted. "You were the worst. Well, except for the twins. And I think Bill was a handful as well."
"So I've heard," Ron said, then blinked. "I mean, my Bill."
"Blimey, that'll take some getting used to." His counterpart shook his head. "The idea that there's a muggle copy of me somewhere out there…"
"I'm not your copy," Ron retorted with a frown.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "You're more like dimensional twins. The parallels are surprising, but all of us were created naturally - none of us were copied. As far as we know, at any rate."
That would have sounded better, in Ron's opinion, without that last addition.
"We're like Fred and George?" The other Ron chuckled again, but Ron could tell it was forced.
"You're not the only one who thinks this is weird," he told him. "We look the same, but we're very different." He hadn't fought in a magical civil war. He wasn't a wizard. And he wouldn't have married a woman who called him 'Won-Won'. He didn't think that the Lavender of his world had been as… weird.
"Not so different," Hermione said. "You both work as police officers. Or did," she added with a wince.
"You don't any more?" Harry's counterpart asked.
"We're currently suspended and planning to quit the force," Harry told him.
"What did you do?" Ron's counterpart raised his eyebrows. So did the Grangers, Ron noticed.
"They didn't like how we protected Hermione," Ron told him. He almost added: 'And we aren't war heroes with the ear of the head of government to protect us.' But that would have sounded like whining. Instead, he added: "We're planning to become private investigators."
"Like in the stories?" Ginny the witch said.
"Can you make a living doing that?" Mrs Granger asked.
"Private security is a growing market - especially for highly-skilled former police officers," Dumbledore explained. "I would know - I employ a fair number of them."
Ron nodded in agreement, but Sirius said: "And if all else fails, Ginny needs a well-paid bodyguard, and I guess Hermione will need one as well." The older man chuckled at his own joke.
"Very funny," Harry said in a flat voice.
"Sheesh, lighten up, Harry," his godfather retorted. "Besides, this whole portal business is more important than any job, anyway."
"Yes," Harry's counterpart agreed. "It's a whole can of worms."
"That's why we have to keep it secret - in both worlds," Hermione said. "I don't trust the government - or the Ministry - to handle this with the necessary caution and care."
"Indeed!" Luna agreed. "You cannot trust any government - they're all corrupt and beholden to their backers in the shadows."
"Shacklebolt's alright," Ron's counterpart said. "He knows his business, and he does the right thing. Usually."
"He won't be Minister forever. What if he is succeeded by another Fudge? Or another Malfoy?" Hermione shook her head.
"There won't be another Malfoy," the other Ron told her. "But I know what you mean. We dealt with the worst of the Ministry, but the new people might have some bad eggs among them."
"Corruption is endemic to most organisations," Dumbledore said, nodding gravely. "And not all corruption stems from personal greed - sometimes, people break laws with the best of intentions. Or so they think."
Ron wondered - privately, of course - if the old man spoke from personal experience. And with regard to corruption - Ron and his friends certainly had broken a lot of laws with Dumbledore's help already. Mostly abroad, of course.
"We'll just have to keep vigilant," his counterpart said, "and deal with it when it crops up."
"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," Dumbledore said. "Or, as Mr Moody would say, 'Constant vigilance'."
"I don't trust the Ministry," Hermione repeated. "And while my opinion of Her Majesty's Government is quite a bit better, I don't trust them with the security and the secrecy of the portal."
"A very sensible stance," Dumbledore agreed. "Despite my best efforts in my time, I cannot say that the government is free of spies. Information tends to leak to all sorts of interested parties. And we can be sure that the Russians will redouble their efforts to penetrate our security."
"Information needs to be free, though," Luna said. "Without supervision by the public, you have no accountability. Can you trust yourself with this?"
That was a very good question, Ron couldn't help thinking.
"I think so," Hermione retorted. "But regardless, I know that the government - or the Ministry - learning about the portal will lead to serious problems with grave consequences for a large number of innocent people."
Luna frowned at her. "That sounds like the same argument the government uses."
"That doesn't make it wrong in this case," Hermione replied. "It's not ideal, but if you know a better solution, I'll gladly implement it instead."
Luna blinked, then pouted. "I'll have to get back to you about that."
Hermione's smile was, perhaps, a little smug in Ron's opinion.
"So," his counterpart said, "I'll go tell Lavender and the parents."
"And my counterpart!" Luna added.
"If she's home," the other Ron replied before leaving through the door.
Ron frowned. "Why didn't he just apparate from here?"
"You mean disapparate," Hermione corrected him. "It's bad manners to disapparate from someone's living room. And homes are usually warded with Anti-Apparition Jinxes. The entrance hall might be an exception."
"Exactly," the other Harry confirmed with a smile.
"I'll tell Dobby to fix something for lunch," Ginny's counterpart said. "It might take a little longer, though, because there are so many of us."
"If we're imposing, then we can go get a takeaway from somewhere," Ginny replied. "It can't be easy to cook for half a dozen additional guests."
"It's not a problem; we can multiply the food once it's ready," the witch told her with a grin.
"Magic really is useful!" Luna said. "Imagine multiplying pudding. All the cake you can eat…"
"We try to avoid setting a bad example for the twins," Harry the wizard told her.
"That's a laudable stance. But what does that have to do with pudding?" Luna cocked her head as if she were honestly confused.
"Uh…" Apparently, Harry's counterpart fell for it. "Overeating cake is bad for your health. Trust me, I know - my cousin served as a really bad example."
"Couldn't you use magic to make pudding healthy?" Luna asked. "Or is there a potion to deal with overeating?"
"Well, in theory, it should be possible," Hermione said. "Magic can deal with worse health impediments, after all. However, I don't recall any such spells."
"Aw."
Ron blinked. Had Dumbledore chimed in with Luna?
"You'd make millions, no, billions, with that," Ginny said. "Eat what you want, as much as you want, with no negative consequences? People would kill for that. Or to stop it from wrecking the dieting business."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Another reason to keep the portal a secret."
"I concur. However, it isn't a reason not to pursue this further," Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "I might yet convert Gellert to enjoying dessert with me."
"Err, yes, I suppose so. But I think there are more pressing matters to which we need to attend," Hermione said. "Like finding a discreet Healer."
"A Healer? Is someone hurt?" Ron heard Hermione say behind him and herself. He leapt to his feet and whirled, hand going to his gun. Who had…? He blinked. There was a younger Hermione staring at him from the landscape painting on the wall. A painted Hermione.
"That's the portrait?" Hermione exclaimed next to him. "It can appear here?"
"Of course I can," the portrait replied. "I would be very limited if I were confined to Hogwarts, wouldn't I?" Suddenly, the portrait frowned. "You look like Hermione."
"I am Hermione."
"That is impossible. She died, and you don't look like a ghost. And if you were a ghost, you'd appear at Hogwarts, not here."
Ron saw Hermione press her lips together, then glare at Harry's counterpart. "Can you tell it that I'm Hermione?"
The wizard looked embarrassed. "Ah, Hermione, this is Hermione Granger. Your original."
"Really? You're serious?"
"Yes."
"Oh! That's great!" The portrait was now beaming at Hermione. "I was limited to the recollections of your friends, unlike other portraits. But with you now present, I can finally copy you perfectly! That will make my duties so much easier!"
"Copy me…? Your duties?"
"I'm a prefect, tutor and assistant teacher." The portrait sounded proud.
"I see." Hermione sounded angry.
"...and we didn't plan to make her a prefect or tutor," Harry's counterpart said. "We just wanted a portrait of you, a sort of legacy. She - it - decided to become a prefect and help students. On its own."
"I'm not sure whether that makes it better or worse," Hermione mumbled - if he hadn't been sitting right next to her, Ron would have missed it. "So, you taught her all she knows."
"Everyone who knew you helped," he told her. "But mainly Ron and I." He frowned. "Mainly me, in the beginning - Ron couldn't, well…"
"I can imagine," she replied.
"Yes. But Ron was very helpful later," the portrait chimed in. "Not as helpful as you'll be, of course."
"You presume quite a lot," Hermione told it.
"Why wouldn't you help me reach my full potential? Wouldn't that be discrimination against paintings?" the portrait asked in a vexed tone.
"What…? Honestly!" Hermione shook her head. "And that is how every student at Hogwarts has known me for the last seven years?" She looked at Harry the wizard again.
He cringed a little but rallied. "Five years: it took some time to get it painted and, ah, instructed. But, well, you were one of the best prefects, ever - McGonagall said so herself. And you were always ready to help others with their homework, weren't you?"
"But…" Hermione sighed. "Well, I guess I will have to teach it more about myself."
"Of course!" the portrait told her, nodding.
She closed her eyes, and Ron squeezed her thigh in support.
"Well, it could've been worse," she muttered. "And it's just a painting." A little more loudly, she said: "Well, at least this should improve the student experience at Hogwarts. Organised tutoring, effective patrolling - although, now that I think about it: Why didn't the other portraits help with patrolling when we were at school?"
"They're hidebound relics," the portrait declared, "who wouldn't recognise bullying if it hexed them in the back."
"What?"
"All of the portraits are, well… very old-fashioned," Harry the wizard said. "Dumbledore's portrait is the youngest - and the only one that actually understands what we consider bullying."
"Oh."
Ron winced. The old teachers at his boarding school had been bad enough; to imagine getting disciplined by people from the Victorian age, or even older… He shuddered.
"That's just natural; old people cling to their outdated views, which is why they defend the status quo so much," Luna said.
"Exactly!" the portrait agreed. "Which is why it was fortunate that so many old wizards and witches were implicated in Voldemort's regime - their removal greatly facilitated the necessary reforms."
That sounded a little ominous, in Ron's opinion.
"They were tried for their crimes, not for political reasons," Harry the wizard said, frowning.
"As I said: fortunate," the portrait replied.
Hermione looked quite concerned now. Luna, on the other hand, was nodding in obvious and emphatic agreement. Which was a cause for concern by itself, of course.
"Well, good riddance to them," Ginny's counterpart said. "They deserved everything they got in the end; Dad almost got killed by the traitors in the Ministry during the coup, you remember?"
"Yes," Hermione said.
"And justice was done!" the portrait added.
"Although while purges might seem necessary at times - I remember the denazification efforts in Germany after the war - in that sort of situation, there will always be those who will be tempted to use the opportunity to take revenge or settle accounts," Dumbledore pointed out. "And there's also the danger of mob justice."
Ron didn't miss the other Harry's wince at that. "We did our best to cut down on all that," the wizard replied. "But the alternative would have been to let murderers and their helpers go free. As happened in 1981." He bared his teeth. "I won't have my children fighting the same bigots in ten, fifteen, years."
"Better safe than sorry," Ginny's counterpart added, leaning into his side.
Hermione nodded. "Two wars in two decades were enough."
She sounded a little off, though. At least to Ron.
"Well, as long as you didn't imitate the damned French," Sirius spoke up. "Wouldn't want to reenact the Terror."
"Oh, no," the portrait said. "There were no guillotines at all. It was the veil or Azkaban."
"Just as we planned," Harry the wizard said. "Justice for all who died."
Hermione nodded again. Then she took a deep breath. "So… who else died in the last battle?"
This time, both Ginny and Harry's counterparts winced.
"...and no one was in any mood to take prisoners. Not after all the dead students. Not after your… disappearance. We cornered the last Death Eaters in the dungeons and killed them all - they hadn't realised that we'd cut off the secret passages to Hogsmeade until they were trapped," the other Harry finished his rather grim story.
Hermione closed her eyes. "That's worse than I thought. So many students dead…"
"Murdered, yes," the wizard agreed with a grim expression. "It could have been worse, though."
"I don't think my lads would have taken prisoners, either, if we had seen half of what you did," Sirius said. "Hell, it was hard enough to hold back in the war, and the Argies weren't a bunch of murderous scumbags - well, most of them weren't."
"'The war'?" Harry the wizard asked.
"Falklands," Sirius said. "1982. I don't think you'd remember it."
"No, I don't. Uncle Vernon mentioned it a few times, though - I remember that," Harry's counterpart said.
"You were a soldier?" Ginny's counterpart asked.
"I was an officer in the Blues and Royals. Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons," Sirius answered.
"Horse guards?"
"Cavalry. Though we only ride horses for ceremonial tasks these days. In the war, I had a tank."
"A light tank," Harry corrected him.
"Anyway, I understand what you did," Sirius told them.
"They would have been executed anyway," Ginny the witch said.
"Some might have been under the Imperius Curse," Hermione pointed out.
Ron saw Harry the wizard clenching his jaws.
After a moment, Hermione took a deep breath. "Sorry."
The wizard nodded. "Anyway, after the Battle of Hogwarts, we mopped up the rest - those who had remained at the Ministry. A few tried to flee, but we caught most of them. Bounty hunters got some more." He shrugged. "Shacklebolt took over and has been Minister since."
"Dad's a Department Head," Ginny's counterpart added, "as is Percy."
"Oh, our dad and Percy would be proud," Ginny said. "It'll take them a little longer to get promoted."
Sirius leaned forward with a wide and a little too toothy smile. "Speaking of your father… does he take commissions? I would love to have him enchant a tank!"
It seemed Sirius hadn't abandoned his dream of a flying Scorpion.
"Oh, yes! We need a flying, invisible tank!" Luna chimed in. "I'll drive it!"
And, apparently, neither had Luna.
"No, we don't need a tank," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "Voldemort was defeated seven years ago."
"Well, yes, but a tank would come in very handy to protect the portal," Sirius retorted. "Especially if we can shrink it - who would expect a tank inside a building?"
"You don't have a tank to enchant," Harry pointed out.
"That's not the point!" Hermione retorted.
"I can buy one," Sirius said at the same time. "I've looked into it - I can claim I'm a collector and buy a Scorpion tank. As a former tank commander and member of the upper class, I won't have much trouble getting the permits."
"A demilitarised tank", Harry replied.
"Mr Dumbledore can fix that." Sirius made a dismissive wave with his hand. "Or magic."
"While Mr Black is essentially correct," Dumbledore said, inclining his head slightly towards the man, "I think there are several more advanced armoured vehicles that would be of greater use."
"Vehicles made by Phoenix Gruppe, I suppose." Sirius grinned.
"We do have very successful lines of wheeled and tracked vehicles," the old spymaster admitted. "And while magic does basically seem to render cargo capacity redundant, I think they offer more flexibility than a Scorpion."
"Real tanks have tracks!" Luna insisted with a frown.
Sirius rubbed his goatee. "But wheeled armoured fighting vehicles would be faster, and I'm a cavalry officer, after all. And if the tank can fly, the main advantage tracks provide is effectively gone."
Ron glanced at Hermione, who was slowly shaking her head. "Do you really think we'll need a flying tank to protect the portal?" he asked Sirius.
"It would be more mobile," the older man retorted. "We could deploy it to either site - here or in our world. And," he added with a wide smile, "if we can magically enlarge the interior, we could build a portal inside!"
"That's… that wouldn't exactly work," Hermione pointed out. "You can only open a portal at certain locations."
"We could drive to such locations," Luna retorted.
"And the power demands… the extension charms needed for that…" Hermione shook her head.
"Not to mention that you'd have a direct way into the tank if you ever lost control of the other side of a portal," Ron added.
"Well… what if we had a tank inside a tank?"
Sirius had to be taking the mickey. He had to.
Ten minutes filled with increasingly outlandish proposals later, they had moved to guest rooms to 'freshen up' before lunch - which would be soon. And Hermione was still fuming. "That… that's so irresponsible! A flying tank!" she huffed and shook her head.
"I don't think that he was actually serious," Ron told her, testing the bed's mattress. It was a far cry from the overly soft ones in Sirius's guest rooms.
"Really?" Hermione asked in a doubtful tone, turning slightly to face him.
"Well, about the tank inside a tank, and the portal inside a tank, or the mobile home base," Ron admitted. "He does seem to be serious about the tank." Though it was hard to tell with Sirius.
"It's ridiculous," she told him. "We couldn't use it in your world, and in this world, the threats aren't the kind of threats a tank is able to handle."
Ron would still prefer to be in a tank, though, when facing wizards. But this wasn't about the tank, in his opinion. "You're worried about something else, though, aren't you?"
She sighed, slumping over a little. "It's just… it's so different from what I expected. Everything." Shaking her head, she added: "The statue, the portrait, the reforms…"
"Well, didn't you expect your friends to honour you?"
"I did, but…" She sighed again. "The statue is one thing, but the portrait? It looks like in a few decades, I will be known as 'the perfect portrait prefect' among the students. That's not the legacy I wanted." She turned to look at him. "The worst thing is, they are the ones who taught the portrait how to act - they think that's how I would behave!"
"I don't think that was what they intended," Ron pointed out.
"But it happened." Another sigh. "I know it's vain, but I want to have a different reputation. Something more..." She shrugged. "Not just a prefect who enforces all the rules."
He nodded. He could understand that.
"Does that make me petty?"
"No."
"The worst thing is, I really was that sort of 'perfect prefect'."
He hugged her. "But you're not any more," he told her.
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, December 22nd, 2005
"Now this looks like a proper wizarding house!" Ron exclaimed after they had appeared in front of the gate leading to the home of this world's Weasley family. It really did - it seemed as if several small wooden houses had been stacked on top of each other, and then partially folded into one another. It was obvious that it would collapse without magic.
"It looks interesting," Luna agreed.
A pop announced Hermione's return with Harry and Ginny.
"That's The Burrow?" Ron's sister asked.
"Yes. It looks just like I remember," Hermione told them with a wistful expression. Then she disapparated again.
"It's in the same place as our home," Ginny said, "but smaller. Unless it's bigger inside."
"And my counterpart's family home is a chess piece!" Luna added, pointing across the pond.
You couldn't actually see anything but the very top of the Lovegoods' home, but Ginny's counterpart had shown them pictures.
Hemione returned again, this time with Dumbledore and Sirius. She stumbled a little, and Ron heard her mutter: "Perhaps we should've used the Floo Network."
"One form of magical transportation a time," he told her. He trusted Apparition much more than travelling through fireplaces. Burning fireplaces.
She nodded, looking at the house without saying anything for a moment. Then she disapparated once more, to fetch her parents.
A moment later, everyone was present. With the exception of the Grangers, everyone was in disguise - though wigs and some fake beards wouldn't fool the Weasleys, of course. But Ron hoped it would fool the children, at least.
Luna pointed at the patch of grass on the other side. "And there's the pitch! Where we can fly on brooms!"
"The Quidditch pitch," Hermione corrected her, sounding a little tired. "Well, it's not a full-size pitch, but close enough."
"It certainly looks unique," Dumbledore commented, unflappable as usual.
"Yes. And fragile," Sirius said.
"It's perfectly safe," Hermione told him. "Let's go in," she added, opening the gate. "Ginny and Harry must have already arrived - they used the Floo Network. It's easier on the children."
They reached the door, which had an old-fashioned knocker, not a bell, and Hermione hesitated again, Ron noticed - though she hid it by glancing at the others with them. "Don't eat anything the twins give you," she said.
"You said that before," Luna pointed out.
"We grew up with Fred and George," Ginny added. "We know better than that."
"Good." A deep breath later, Hermione reached for the knocker, but the door was opened before she could grab it.
"Hermione! Dear Lord, it's really you! We thought you had died! Ron was devastated! Everyone was… Merlin's beard!"
That was Mum, there, crying. And hugging Hermione, who was sobbing as well. Mum's counterpart, actually, wearing robes. A witch. But she sounded and looked so much like their Mum... Ron bit his lower lip. Ginny looked like she felt the same, he noticed.
Mrs Weasley released Hermione and looked at them. "Oh, even with the hair, you look just like Ron and Ginny, and Luna, and… Oh, my... " she paled, looking at Dumbledore and Sirius.
Ron swallowed the joke he had been about to make and nodded. "Yes, we're not from this world. And we aren't wizards."
"Or witches," Luna added.
"Molly? Won't you invite them inside?" Dad - Dad's counterpart appeared in the door. Ron saw the man's eyes widen, but, otherwise, he seemed to be more composed. Just like Dad.
"Oh, yes, where were my manners!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "Come in, everyone, come in!" She turned and stepped inside. "Everyone, they're here!"
"We've noticed!" Ron heard Fred or George answer.
"They must have called the entire family," Hermione mumbled next to him.
That was understandable, of course - Ron could imagine what the twins would do if they had been left out of this. Which, he realised, had actually happened to his brothers back home. They wouldn't be happy once they found out - if they ever did.
He snorted as he entered The Burrow. The first thing he noticed was that it was bigger inside than outside - by a lot. The second thing he noticed were all the people waiting there.
"Hermione!"
"Hey!"
"I almost didn't believe Ron, but he would never joke about this."
"Fred… George… Percy… Arthur..." Hermione sounded overwhelmed, so Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Wow, Ron was so jealous of us, he went and got himself a twin of his own!"
"And Gin did the same!"
"No, Gin got a twin of Harry!"
"Fred! George!" Mrs Weasley bellowed. "Behave!"
"Sorry, Mum."
"We were just getting overwhelmed by our emotions, so we made a joke. Sorry."
They didn't sound very honest, in Ron's opinion, but Mrs Weasley nodded, then turned towards them. "Now, please come in and take a seat."
"With pleasure, Mrs Weasley. I fear I'm not as spry as I was," Dumbledore said.
"He sounds just like the Headmaster."
"But he dresses like a muggle."
"Well, I am a muggle," the old man replied as he sat down on a couch. "Robes are not exactly in fashion in our world."
"Well, the Headmaster's robes weren't in fashion in our world, either,"
"Fred!"
"What? It's true!"
Ron snorted again, and he wasn't the only one. Even though Hermione's chuckle also sounded a little like a sob.
"Charlie is still working in Romania, so he couldn't make it," Mrs Weasley told them. "But Bill and Fleur are coming with Victoire - they should be arriving any minute now, actually."
Ron reflexively looked at the tall grandfather clock and blinked. That wasn't a clock, but a tracker, apparently. A magical home, indeed, he thought with a smile.
"Victoire is their daughter?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, yes - no one told you?"
"We haven't had time to go into details," Hermione told the other witch.
"So they didn't tell you about me, either?" A tall, black woman asked, taking a step closer to them. Behind her, a young girl, about three years old, followed, one hand gripping the woman's robes.
"Angelina?" Hermione looked surprised. "No, they didn't."
"I'll have words with them, later, then," she said, grinning at Harry's counterpart.
"Hey! That was Ron's task," Harry the wizard defended himself.
"And I'm sure he'll agree, won't he?" Angelina shook her head and pulled the girl in front of her, keeping her hands on her shoulders. "This is Beatrice, our daughter."
"H-hi!" the kid squeaked.
"Don't let her fool you, she's as bad as her fathers."
Fathers? Ah. Ron glanced at the twins, noting how they were eyeing them. Was this a test?
"Oh!" Hermione blinked, obviously surprised. "A lot of things just started making sense," she said.
"Our greatest prank, ever!" George proclaimed.
"Even we got confused!" Fred added.
"Prats," Angelina retorted.
"So, did you open a joke shop?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, yes. Best joke shop in Britain," Fred said.
"It's at a prime location in Diagon Alley, which helps, of course," George explained. "But we're thinking of expanding."
"We've got some samples of our products here, if anyone's interested." Fred grinned and pulled a bag out of an obviously enchanted pocket in his robes.
"Dr Granger warned us about your products," Dumbledore said.
"And some of us know your counterparts," Sirius added. Harry and Ginny, who had been talking to Mr Weasley and their own counterparts, nodded.
"Magical sweets? I would like some!" Luna said.
That seemed to surprise the two. "Really?" Fred asked.
"Boys, behave!" Mrs Weasley said. "No pranks in the house." She turned to Luna. "Their products aren't always as funny as they think."
"Oh."
"Now we're 'boys' again," George complained. "We'll be 'boys' until we're older than Dumbledore - our Dumbledore."
"That's not a bad thing," Dumbledore replied. "To quote one of the favourite books of a dear friend of mine: Only those who, even as adults, remain children, are human."
"Now that's a saying I can get behind!" Fred said, nodding rapidly.
"Imagine the amount of business we could do if all adults remained kids," George added. "Say… that gives me an idea."
"Rejuvenating Refreshers?"
"Kind of redundant, right?"
"True."
"No research at the dinner table!" Angelina snapped. "You know the rules!"
"Yes, Daddies!" Beatrice added, nodding emphatically. "No rules breaking where Mum can see you!"
Both twins made exaggerated shushing motions, though they didn't seem overly worried about the rapidly clouding expression of their apparently shared partner.
"No hexing in the house," Mrs Weasley chastised all three. "We're here to welcome Hermione back, not to drive her away!"
"There's no danger of that," Hermione said, smiling widely. "I've missed this."
"Of course you did!" Mrs Weasley enveloped her in another hug. "But you're back now, and that's all that counts!"
It wasn't, Ron knew. At least not for him.
The fireplace flared up, and three people stepped out of it in rapid succession: Bill's counterpart, looking even more rakish than Ron's brother, with long hair and what looked like a tiger fang earring, an adorable blonde girl about Beatrice's age, and… Ron blinked. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. That was Fleur, the French witch? Some of Hermione's stories sounded much more believable, now. "Bill would be so jealous," he muttered.
"Bill?" Hermione asked in a slightly annoyed tone.
Ah. Of course. But before Ron could assure her that he wasn't jealous, Fleur came over, hugging Hermione and kissing her cheeks. Repeatedly. Apparently, French witches were, well, as French as their muggle compatriots. "Hermione! It is you! I didn't want to believe it when Bill told me!"
"Fleur! You lost your accent?"
"Mais oui…" the Veela replied with a wide smile.
Meanwhile, Victoire was staring at him, Ron noticed. "Uncle Ron?" she asked. "You're dressed funny!"
"I'm not your uncle Ron," he told her with a smile. "I'm a distant relative Ron from far away. And my clothes are very fashionable there."
"Dis… distant relative?" She looked confused.
"Distant family," Bill the wizard explained.
"Oh! Like Uncle Freangeorge!"
"Hey!" the twins protested.
"Yes. Just with better manners."
Well, Ron could agree with that description.
"Where's Uncle Ron?"
That was a good question.
"He should be here already," Mrs Weasley said as more of the couches were being occupied. "Perhaps Lavender isn't feeling well - she's having some troubles with her pregnancy; her first wasn't easy, either."
"Ah." Hermione nodded, though she was a little too tense for her smile. Unfinished business, Ron thought.
As if on cue, the fireplace flared up again, and Ron's counterpart stepped out of the green flames. "Sorry for being late," he said. "We had a small problem at home. It's all solved now, though."
Behind him, a little boy arrived and made a beeline for Victoire. "Vicky!"
"Rogee!"
The witch that followed the kid out of the fireplace wasn't as beautiful as Fleur, but she was very pretty - and, obviously, took great care with her appearance. Perfect makeup and hairstyle, immaculate robes. She did look like the Lavender Brown of his world - just grown up.
"Lavender."
"Hermione."
Both were smiling at each other, but only a fool would miss that there were issues.
Great.
"Hermione."
"Lavender." She nodded at the other witch and moved to the side so she could enter Gryffindor Tower behind her.
Lavender didn't walk past her, though, but instead stayed where she was and frowned at her. "I know what you're doing."
"I would hope you know," she replied. "Since I just said I was going on my prefect rounds."
The frown turned into a glare. "That's not what I mean! I know that you're trying to take my boyfriend!"
"What? Me?" She snorted. "Don't be a fool!" She wasn't trying to take Ron from Lavender. But she wouldn't let him neglect his duties as a prefect just so he could snog his girlfriend a little more. They were the youngest prefects in Gryffindor House, which meant that they had the worst patrols. And Hermione wouldn't go on them alone!
"Liar! I know you want him! But he's my boyfriend!"
"And he's my friend and fellow prefect," she retorted, glaring at Lavender. She wasn't some silly girl who thought a teenage romance was the love of her life.
"And you think that means he should be your boyfriend!"
"No, that means I think that he should do his duty as a prefect," she corrected the girl.
"I'm warning you: If I catch you trying to seduce him…" Lavender actually waved her wand in her face.
"Me? Seduce him?" She scoffed. "You're ridiculous! Put that wand away before I remove it for you."
"What?"
She had her wand in hand already - the other witch probably hadn't even noticed. A little hex, and Lavender wouldn't try to threaten her again…
The portrait behind them swung to the side. "Hermione? Oh, Lavender!"
"Won-Won!"
Hermione rolled her eyes as the girl all but tackled Ron and started snogging her friend. Honestly! She should deduct points from the silly witch for being out past curfew!