Hello, everybody! 💛
The following story is a present for moonfairy13 and my first attempt at writing Fremione. :)
(And of course there is a little bit Charlie/OC as well because I couldn't resist, haha.)
Have fun reading!
The singing moonfairy
"I'm home!"
During her exclamation, Hermione stripped off her coat and boots to stow them in the wardrobe of her family home. Relieved to have escaped the biting cold of London's winter. As she circled her neck, it gave off a cracking sound.
It had been a long day at the Ministry. One appointment had chased the next. One conversation another. The witch had not even been able to take her lunch break because a muggle store for Christmas decorations had fallen victim to a family of nifflers. Several spells had been required to bring the chaos under control. But the biggest headache had been caused by an animal rights activist, whose loud protests had attracted the attention of numerous witnesses.
"These are clearly platypuses! What an outrage! And in this weather on top of that," he had shouted, pointing out repeatedly that those responsible should be sued and that the poor animals belonged back in the sweet-waters of Australia. Fortunately, the obliviators had arrived soon after to put an end to the whole nightmare.
Hermione sighed softly. She had known that the occupational stress would increase when she was entrusted with the leadership of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. However, she had not been prepared for the turmoil that the holidays entailed. At least not enough.
The pattering of little feet reached Hermione's ears. Only a few seconds later the owners of them stumbled into the hallway and against her legs. Two pairs of reproachful, identical eyes looked up at her.
"Mum, you're late!"
"Yes, too late!"
Hermione instantly felt a great deal of her stress fall away as her twin daughters each hugged one of her legs. Jane and Amelia Weasley had inherited so many Weasley genes that sometimes the witch would still pause and remind herself joyfully that these were indeed her children who she had carried under her heart for less than nine months - an early testament to their impatience that was still evident today.
"Well, your father hasn't put you to bed yet, so I can't be too late," she replied, raising both eyebrows afterwards, when she noticed something significant. "What did I say about bare feet this time of year?"
With eyes that slowly widened, her daughters let go of her and rushed towards their bedroom. In doing so, they passed their father, who caught them in the middle of their run and lifted them into the air. The girls squealed. Fidgeting, they kicked into nothingness until he released them laughingly to continue on their way.
"So much energy," Fred Weasley grinned. "I wonder where they get it from."
"Oh, you didn't really just say that, did you?"
Winking, the wizard pulled Hermione into his arms and leaned down to give her a hello kiss. After that he pressed their foreheads together.
"Welcome home. Long day, hm?"
"Indeed..." she sighed. "What about you?"
The two broke apart. Fred took her hand and pulled her toward the dining room. On the table rested her serving of dinner - curry with rice and vegetables - under a stasis spell, patiently waiting to be consumed.
"Still the same in all stores. Things are worst in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. People go crazy when it comes to Christmas and presents."
While Hermione ate with relish and regained her lost energy with every bite, her husband entertained her by sharing the events of his working day. One particularly amusing story involved a mother who had insisted on sampling a canary cream at the checkout counter and had to be rescued from the ceiling in the end.
"Mum, you promised to read us a bedtime story!"
"We already know which one!"
Hermione and Fred smiled at each other as the shouts of bright voices rang out. Their girls had been exercising patience for quite a while already, but now they seemed to have reached their limit.
Fred wagged his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
"Here's the plan: You put them both to bed and I'll run hot water for a shared bath?"
"Hmm… Don't forget the red wine."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
With feigned horror, the wizard laid a hand on his chest and Hermione, laughing softly, bent over the table to give him a kiss on the cheek before sending her empty plate into the sink with a spell.
The twins' bedroom was an elongated room with sloping roofs on both sides, imitating the shape of a small house. While in the daylight the colourful carpet stood out, at night it was the numerous fluorescent stars that stuck to the ceiling. But in contrast to those Hermione still knew from her childhood, magic dwelt within them, making them movable. When the witch entered the room, the star sign of Scorpio just disintegrated into a breathtaking shooting star shower and then fizzled away into glittering dust.
Jane was already cuddled up under her blanket, while Amelia bounced on her bed with the chosen bedtime story. Both had listened to their mother and put on their thick wool socks.
Hermione took a seat in an old wing chair and thanked her daughter when she handed the book over before swiftly slipping into her bed as well. In silver letters the title The Moonfairies and the Forest of Stories shone towards her. The cover featured a bright crescent moon on which a winged shadow figure and a cat sat. Her daughters loved fairy tales. From the stories of the Brothers Grimm to those of Beedle the Bard.
"Mum? Kara said something really mean today," Jane murmured suddenly and Hermione raised her eyes in concern. Before she could ask what their classmate had said, Amelia intervened with a grumble.
"She... She called us childish and laughed on us."
"At us," Jane corrected quietly, but was ignored.
"She said fairies don't exist. Especially moonfairies, because only astronauts can live on the moon." Amelia crossed her arms. "All muggles except nanna and gramps are stupid."
Hermione cleared her throat audibly and put on a reprimanding look. Since her children went to the nearest elementary school so they could get in touch with the non-magical world as early as possible, there were some small disputes from time to time, which however could be solved quickly.
Amelia uttered a sigh and then murmured a quiet apology.
"Muggles aren't stupid... They just don't know any better," she said insightfully and wrapped her blanket around herself, forming a cocoon.
Satisfied that her last clarifying conversation about the coexistence of magical and non-magical people had stuck, Hermione opened the fairy tale book and turned to the story where they had stopped the last time.
"Okay, today's title is called: The singing moonfairy," the witch read aloud and thought, not for the first time, how many discrepancies existed between the various depictions of magical creatures in muggle literature.
Hermione smiled at the thought of how shocked her children had been when they had learned that fairies were in fact often used as decorations, especially at Christmas time. Or that fairy wings found a use in the potion brewery.
"How barbaric!" they had shouted in unison. A word they could pick up from their uncle Charlie a while ago, when he had learned about the planning of a new jewelry line made of dragon claws during his last visit back home.
Hermione sighed inwardly. She could still remember how upset the dragon keeper had been. He had even asked for her help to nip the nonsense in the bud. Only one day later, the two of them had met with Daisy, the owner of a boutique and initiator of the idea, in a small restaurant in Diagon Alley. Charlie hadn't given the poor witch a chance to study the menu or even speak.
"People like you are the reason why dragons are treated like breeding stock by so many! How would you like it if someone pulled your fingernails and turned them into useless... useless... trinkets?! Can you even sleep at night?!"
Daisy's mouth had opened and closed in fright after this public rant.
"But... But the talk was never about real dragon claws...! That would be absolutely cruel," she had squeaked in the end, blinking at him with her big, innocent eyes.
This answer had been the trigger for instant silence. It was needless to say that Charlie had offered an embarrassed apology and treated both witches to an extensive lunch and dessert afterwards.
Hermione remembered that the dragon keeper had become a topic of conversation just a few days ago during a dinner with George.
"Charlie wrote, by the way," he had announced with a broad grin. "Seems like Daisy finally agreed to go out with him. And that despite the distance."
"I can already see Mum and her designing baby rompers together," Fred had laughed and raised his hands to let them flutter while talking. "With scale and wing design."
Shaking her head, Hermione corrected her posture and tore herself back to reality where her daughters lay in their beds and looked at her with expectant eyes. After a deep breath she began to read.
"Once upon a time there was a moonfairy who loved to sing. The sound and words of her songs made everyone who had the pleasure of hearing them feel happy and secure. Like the rest of her species, the moonfairy lived on the flowers of a forest clearing and only ever appeared when the moon and the stars shone in their brightest light."
Hermione noticed how the magical night sky on the ceiling adjusted to her last words - a stroke of genius by the twins - and looked at the next page.
"But there were also the trolls who lived beneath the flowers. They were vicious and hated everything that brought joy to others. Thus including the enchanting singing of the moonfairy. Every time the moon showed its silver face and all the forest dwellers sought to enjoy her voice, the trolls began to make loud noises. They roared and fidgeted and shook the stems of the flowers."
To underline this, Hermione wiggled her shoulders and caused her daughters to giggle.
"This made the inhabitants of the forest sad. They could not understand why the trolls acted in such a way and wondered anxiously whether their roar might drown out the wonderful singing one day."
"No, they can't do that," Jane whispered concerned and her sister admonished her not to interrupt. Hermione turned to the next page, showing a picture of the tiny trolls, which bore great resemblance to the garden gnomes at The Burrow.
"But the moonfairy was as amiable as she was fearless. She ignored the noisiness of the trolls and concentrated on the abundant flowers that concealed them instead. The different colours of the pansies, some lighter, some darker, reminded her of the beauty that could be found beside all the bad in the world each and every day."
Hermione nodded unconsciously. This was a realisation that she had acquired herself a very long time ago. Sometimes one had to pause to find the light in the darkness. Be it through a small gesture of kindness, the taste of a delicious dish or the sounds of a beautiful song.
"And so time passed and no improvement was in sight. Night after night the trolls became louder. And night after night the moonfairy sang more passionately. Three months, three weeks and three days passed until the spirits of the forest and the sky decided jointly to bring an end to the quarrels."
Hermione heard a soft chuckle behind her and did not need to turn around to realise that, as so often before, her husband was leaning against the door frame to listen to the story as well. She traced his laughter back to the last sentence. It was quite amusing that such powerful spirits could figuratively snap their fingers to solve problems, but simultaneously displayed such strange timing.
"All of a sudden the forest proliferated even more than it already did, becoming dense and impregnable. The flower meadow, once the meeting place of so many forest dwellers, could only be reached by those blessed with a tiny stature, wings or both," Hermione read aloud and lowered her voice to suit the mood of the text. "In the sky, on the other hand, clouds gathered every night, only disappearing at new moon. And without the natural light, the presence and singing of the moonfairy stayed absent as well. A world of silence arose."
Hermione turned to the next page and the conspicuous loudness of this trivial action, which she had already performed countless times in her life, indicated how much her listeners were captivated.
"It did not take long for the trolls to realise what consequences their actions had caused. Because now there was no one left with whom they could play their pranks every night and even trade suffered without the attendance of the remaining forest dwellers. A few of the youngest trolls and fairies, who still had no understanding of the great changes in their environment, asked questions, but found no ear. Thick, shiny tears dripped from their cheeks and found their way to earth from there." Hermione paused briefly for effect. "Suddenly, a miracle occurred. The salty water seeped and penetrated into the roots of the trees, forming passages for the forest inhabitants. Likewise, the flowers grew in height. Higher. Higher. Ever higher. Until even the clouds of the sky were breached."
Hermione turned to the last page of the fairy tale. The remaining sentences and their words danced along the stems of the pansies, on whose blossoms a fairy sat, gazing at the moon.
"The moonfairy, attracted by the lights of the night, sang as audibly and beautifully as never before in her life. All the forest dwellers, young and old, large and small, once again enjoyed her songs, which floated from far above in all directions."
Hermione smiled at the feeling of warm hands that settled on her shoulders. A quick glance revealed that her daughters had long since closed their eyes and were on their way to the land of dreams.
"While the narrator of this story would have liked to say that all trolls learned from their misconduct and felt real remorse - some actually did -, the truth is that not all of them could be converted. They still make noise underneath the flowers. But now so far below, that no fairy would ever have heard even a bad word from them again."
The witch closed the book and barely audibly breathed out "The end". With caution towards her peaceful surroundings, she rose from the wing chair and followed her husband out of the room on quiet soles.
A while later, the two lay together in the bathtub, leaning their heads back with a sigh. Fred at the edge. Hermione at his chest. Fluffy mountains of foam floated on the water's surface, whose tips changed colour at regular intervals - a very popular sales hit that the witch had assisted in producing.
When the deep sea blue changed to a lighter sky blue, Hermione raised her voice. Lost in thought, she piled foam on her hands and blew it away as if it represented several dandelions. The flakes danced through the air, just past their red wine glasses.
"Sweetheart?"
"Mmm...?"
"I want another one."
I hope you and your loved ones have a wonderful pre-Christmas period. Stay safe!