The morning light filtered through the small window in Ginny's room perfectly when Hermione woke up. Despite spending most of her night on the couch, she had enjoyed a fairly peaceful sleep devoid of any kind of dream, a reality she rarely enjoyed these days. Ginny was still asleep in the twin bed beside her, mouth slightly ajar and hair sticking to her forehead. Hermione smiled at the girl and quietly pulled herself out of bed, grabbing her wand off the nightstand and shoving it into the waistband of her flannel pants before heading to the kitchen to make some tea before family breakfast.
The kitchen was already bright, and Hermione found herself whistling without thinking as she filled the kettle with an Aguamenti charm. She lit the stove with a flick of her wand, the flame merrily dancing to life under her concentration, and set the kettle atop the fire.
"Morning."
Hermione jumped a little, turning her head toward the new voice as George stepped into the room. She controlled her features carefully, trying to hide her shock at seeing the man twice in a less-than-12-hour period, then smirked.
"Is it your goal to scare me into cardiac arrest, George Weasley?" she asked in her best impression of his mother, turning back toward the stove. The sorry attempt at a joke only earned her a barely-audible hum. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Sure," he replied, scraping one of the chairs against the floor as he pulled it back and threw himself in it.
Hermione grabbed two teacups and saucers out of one of the cupboards, filling each with a spoonful of tea leaves from a canister by the stove. The kettle whistled happily and she moved it from the stove, filling up each cup then floating them to the table. George took his with a nod and pulled out his own wand, summoning milk from the fridge with one hand as he added sugar to the cup with the other. Hermione sat at the seat across from him, adding some milk to her own tea then trading the jug for the sugar spoon once George sat it down.
The two sipped their tea in silence for a bit. It was a sort of neutral quiet, not entirely awkward but not comfortable or companionable either. The unsaid reality of the once-happy redheaded boy now buried on the outskirts of the Burrow's property hung between them, causing a bit of tension that the birds chirping happily outside couldn't seem to mend.
"How's studying for your NEWTS going?" George finally asked, stirring his tea and watching Hermione sip hers out of the corner of his eye.
"How'd you know I was taking them?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise. She hadn't discussed the decision except at family dinners, from which George had been notably absent. She was positive she had still planned on returning to Hogwarts the last time he made an appearance.
"I do still have one working ear you know," he said, bringing his cup to his lips. "I've been listening."
Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "Been getting creeping tips from Kreacher?" she asked warily, causing George to cough into his cup. Hermione laughed at this, and once he had cleared his throat George joined. It was an incredible sound, one that filled the small room with joy, and the smile that accompanied it made its way to George's eyes this time. Hermione hadn't realized how much she had missed the ever-present giggle of the Weasley twins until that moment, and in the seconds as they caught their breath, she noticed that it made George seem younger, less war-torn and weary.
"No," he finally said, settling his cup on the saucer and shaking his head. "If anything, Peeves taught Fred and I everything I'd ever need to know about sneaking."
Hermione's lips twitched up into another smile, and she shook her head. "That damn poltergeist."
She took another long drink of her tea, and couldn't resist the temptation to peek over the rim of the cup to see George staring blankly into his own tea. She swallowed heavily. "Anyway, the studying is going... fine, honestly. I hate to admit that Ron and Harry were right, but it does seem that most of the spells I'll encounter on the tests are well within my skill set."
George had slowly looked up from his cup to make eye contact with her while she spoke, which unnerved her a bit. She gave a little shrug and continued on, if only to ignore the odd sensation.
"If I'm being frank with myself, I don't think the test is really the reason I wanted to continue studying at Hogwarts, even part time. My parents are," she paused, chewing her lip and wondering if she should even continue with her unplanned confession. She hadn't even told Ron the true reason she wanted time back at the castle, but when George didn't fill in the silence or break his attentive gaze, she carried on. "My parents are still in Australia, memories wiped, and I thought I knew the spells I would need to restore them but... the more I look into it the less sure I am. Magic of the mind is a funny thing, and I'm hoping Professor Flitwick might have some insight he'll let slip. I... don't really want anyone to know about my parents in case there's a vengeful Death Eater out there someone looking for a way to hurt me."
She took a breath, shook her head, and traced the rim of her teacup absently. "Gosh, I'm sorry, George. I shouldn't have unloaded all of that on you-"
He waved her off, almost identically to the way she had waved him off the night before. A part of her wondered if he was mocking her. Had it been Fred, she would have been positive but... of course it would never be Fred again. George, she had realized in the last 15 hours or so, was much harder to read. She gave him a smile of thanks anyway and took another sip of her tea, almost gone now.
"You think Trelawney would predict my demise if she saw these leaves?" she asked, more to herself than to George.
"Nah, that was more Harry's thing wasn't it? Though... I guess the old kook was right in the end, wasn't she?"
"He did, technically, die I guess." Hermione agreed, swirling the remaining tea in her cup as George drained his.
"Well, I must be off now."
He stood from the table rather abruptly and flicked his wand, sending his teacup to the sink to clean itself, then began walking towards the kitchen door. Hermione couldn't keep the blatant shock from her face this time.
She recovered from her speechlessness right as he placed his hand on the knob. "Off.. where, exactly?"
He turned toward her. In this light, just outside the reach of the sun, his face had lost the glow from his earlier chuckle and was back to showing the weight of his emotions, his eyes darker now. He searched her face for a minute, then smirked. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, Hermione," he finally said before turning back to the door and exiting.
Hermione listened to the door thump, then turned her head to the window curiously. After a moment, George's figure appeared. He made his way down the path leading from the Burrow and then crossed the tall grass off to the point just outside of their wards and protections. She watched as he turned on his heel, disappearing into thin air, then turned her head to the hearth at the other end of the room where Molly had relocated the family clock after the war. It was functioning properly again, with seven of the hands pointing at "home," George's currently hovering over "in transit," and one hand, the reason Mrs. Weasley avoided looking in this corner of the room these days, hovering over "lost." It seemed the clock, like the Weasleys themselves, did not have a clean and easy solution for Fred's death.
After a second or two, George's hand clicked curiously back into place with the other seven in the home slot, his journey apparently over. Hermione looked back out the window, expecting to see his bright red hair poking up out of the grass, but it soon became evident that the Burrow was not the home the clock was referring to. Curious indeed. Hermione had wondered whether he had been visiting the flat he and Fred had shared above their shop, though he seemingly hadn't left his room at the Burrow in weeks.
Before she could spend too much energy on the matter, the kitchen door swung open again to produce Mrs. Weasley, dressed and ready for the day with an apron tied firmly around her middle. She jumped slightly at the sight of Hermione sitting at the table, teacup and saucer still in front of her.
"Oh, good morning dear, you're up quite early. I was just about to start on breakfast, would you-" Mrs. Weasley had made her way over to the stove as she spoke, opening up the oven and halting her words as she did. "Oh, you didn't have to clean up the plate, dear."
Hermione shook her head, though Mrs. Weasley still had her back to her. "I didn't," she explained kindly, sending her own cup over to the sink to clean with a flick of her wand. "I found George scavenging for food last night and let him know you were saving him dinner. He was up this morning, too, you just missed him."
Mrs. Weasley turned, and Hermione could see the shine in her eyes as she let out what seemed to be a cross between a hiccup and a sob. Awkwardly, Hermione stood, moving to the pantry to retrieve a loaf of bread.
"I'd love to help with breakfast, Mrs. Weasley."
Molly nodded, giving Hermione a watery smile before coming over and patting her gently on the cheek.
Once breakfast preparations started, it wasn't long before the rest of the family began trickling down.
First was Percy, who apologized profusely and loudly to his mother as he grabbed a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table and went straight back out the door. The restabilization of the Ministry waited for no one, it seemed, not even Molly Weasley.
Next was Ginny, still bleary-eyed, her hair mused as she plopped down into a chair and yawned loudly, with Harry not far behind. Arthur came next, just in time to strategically let in just the owl carrying the Daily Prophet, skillfully edging out the other four that had accompanied it this time, likely all carrying some sort of interview request for the Boy Who Lived. Hermione turned to watch the racket as the skillet in front of her heated up.
"You'd think they'd get the bloody hint by now," Ginny muttered, leaning back and putting her crossed ankles on the edge of the dining table.
"Ginerva," Arthur said, not bothering to look up from the front page of the newspaper as he turned around.
"Sorry, dad." Ginny put her feet back on the floor, and Harry laughed.
"Anything interesting, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked curiously, edging towards him to try to catch a peek of the front page.
"Looks like they've announced the Hogwarts rebuild," Mr. Weasley said, then handed the paper to Harry. "Here, I think I'll skip the rest. Don't think I'll need to read another pregnancy rumor about my daughter for a good, long time."
Harry reddened immediately, but took the paper from Mr. Weasley with a muttered thanks and went back to sit next to Ginny, who was howling with laughter. "Not funny, Gin."
Ginny took a deep breath and pressed her lips together, clearly trying to control herself, but her bottom lip quivered with the effort and she burst out again. The sound echoed a bit in the small room, and Harry just looked at her warily. She patted his shoulder, finally taking deep breaths and managing to calm down.
"Sorry, sorry, it's just... the Prophet caring that much about my sex life honestly is a dream come true."
"Ginny!"
Hermione laughed at the pair, then turned back to the stove to focus on her task at hand: taking thick long strips of bacon and placing them on the skillet. The meat gave a happy crackle as they came into contact with the heat, and soon the room was filled with the smell of it.
Hermione focused on keeping the strips from burning. She could have used magic to do it, but she still hadn't quite mastered household spells the way Mrs. Weasley had, preferring to do most of her cooking the muggle way to avoid disaster. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn't notice the door swing open a fifth and final time, only realizing Ron's presence when he came up behind her and circled his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on the side of her head. Hermione jumped a bit, then tensed at the public display of intimate affection in front of his parents. She snuck a glance at Molly, who was pointedly watching a number of eggs crack themselves into a bowl.
"Morning," he said, kissing her temple again and letting go with a grin, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort. She shook her head a bit, as if trying to clear it physically, then smiled back.
"Morning to you, too," she replied quietly, flipping over the bacon strips in an effort towards nonchalance.
Soon, breakfast was ready and the Weasleys settled around the table, each helping themselves to large plates of the food. As usual, Ron and Harry were scarfing down their food at lightning speeds, much faster than the rest of the clan. Before Hermione had even finished her bacon, her boyfriend was reaching for seconds.
Boyfriend, she thought, because she wasn't quite sure what else to call him. They hadn't had a discussion about the nature of their relationship post-battle per say. Their first kiss was quick, driven by passion in the heat of a moment, and at the time Hermione had thrown reason out the door in favor of following her heart. While, of course, still promising herself to talk to him about it later. But then Fred was dead. So was Tonks and Lupin. And as they all fell into their own little spots of grief, and then Harry fell back into Ginny, and so Hermione fell into Ron. They kept kissing, and he held her hand, and all the fledgling little butterflies she had accumulated over years of seemingly unrequited pining returned, so she let it happen. And now it was over a month later, much too late for a proper conversation. She reckoned they just would never have one.
"So," Harry finally said, taking a breath from the food in front of him. "Ron and I got owls from the ministry this morning, came to the bedroom window. Our auror training starts September 5th."
"Oh, that's so exciting!" Hermione said, hoping the falsity of her statement wasn't given away in her voice. "Did they give you any details on where you'll be going?"
After the war, Hermione was sure both of the boys would declare they were done with dark wizards. Of course, she underestimated their ability to be fascinated by a cool job title and some glory. Both Ron and Harry had spoken to Kingsley, who was happy to allow the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to take their honorary NEWTS, and they had both been hired on as aurors within the month. Like Hermione, though, they had worked out some time to decompress following the events of the past year, and were joining a new incoming class in the fall. They would have to attend training like every other new recruit, a notoriously brutal and strenuous thing, and would be forced to leave home to do it. All things considered, the entire thing seemed quite intense, and Hermione was happy to stay far far away from it for the foreseeable future.
Still, if it made both Ron and Harry happy to continue the effort of rounding up Voldemort's followers, so be it. She knew the faster the straggler death eaters were put into Azkaban, the sooner she would feel safe enough to go retrieve her parents from Australia. Even more, she knew both boys had left Hogwarts unsure of what they wanted out of their future.
"Mo dey difint," Ron tried to reply, his mouth full of bacon. Hermione and Ginny both raised an eyebrow at him and Molly opened her mouth, reprimand ready. He swallowed thickly before trying again. "No they didn't. Just gave us a list of what to pack. Included loads of weird stuff on it. It all seems a bit mental, really. Why do they have to stick us in the middle of nowhere to see if we're good wizards or not?"
"I think they took the idea from some muggle program," Arthur said thoughtfully. "The millytaria or something."
"The military," Hermione corrected automatically. "The soldiers for external threats, yes. They have them go away for training so they have absolute focus."
"Guess it can't hurt," Harry said. "Absolute focus. Constant vigilance. Basically, keep your head on straight if you don't want a one-way ticket to beyond the veil."
"Yeah, well, I just hope it's not camping. I've had enough camping for a lifetime."
"Trust us, Ron," Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We know."
The table laughed at that and Ron's ears turned red. He let out a little cough.
"Very funny, guys." He looked at Hermione, then. "Hey, the weather's supposed to be alright today. Would you like to go on a picnic in the orchard with me?"
Hermione took a bite of toast and hummed. "I really wanted to finish Advanced Charms today so I can start on my Ancient Runes book."
"Bring it with you."
"Alright, then."
Ginny took the opportunity to look at Harry and smack him on the arm. "You never take me on romantic picnics!"
Harry looked at her warily. "Do you want to go on a romantic picnic?"
"Well not now I don't when my brother's gone and thought of it first."
"I'm sure I'll find a way to make it up to you."
"I'm sure you will."
The flirty wink Ginny gave Harry elicited a groan from Ron and a swat from Mrs. Weasley, who was quick to chastise her daughter for talking about such things at the breakfast table. Harry, caught between the two, gave Hermione a pleading look, which she answered with a laugh and a shrug. Mr. Weasley seemed to have lost his ability to hear at some point in the conversation, his eyes now trained back on the Daily Prophet that Harry had abandoned.
Ron had been correct. With the afternoon came a bright, sunny, cloudless sky, perfect for a picnic. Hermione had been holed up in Ginny's room for the majority of the morning, making the most of what was left of her leisure time to make some more progress in Advanced Charms. The other three spent the morning outdoors, the boys helping Ginny train for her upcoming final Quidditch season. Hogwarts letters had not arrived yet, but they were all sure Ginny would receive the position as captain.
Hermione could hear their laughter floating through the house's open windows as she ventured out of the room in the early part of the afternoon, dressed in her most comfortable muggle clothes, to find Ron. She found Mrs. Weasley instead, bustling around the living room tidying up and fluffing pillows.
"Hermione, dear," she said without turning around. "Your picnic basket is on the table in the kitchen, would you be a dear and grab it on your way out?"
"Of course, Mrs. Weasley, thank you."
Hermione went into the kitchen and grabbed the basket, which was heavier than she had imagined it would be and required two hands. Balancing her wand and textbook on top of the wicker top, she made her way out of the house and into the garden.
By the time she had reached the makeshift Quidditch pitch, her arms hurt, and she was cursing herself for not using a levitating charm to bring the basket out. Huffing a bit, she managed to get to the edge of the field when Ron spotted her from his spot at the goalposts.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed with a grin just as Ginny lobbed the quaffle toward the rings, scoring a point on him.
"I think that means I win," she said proudly, and Ron scowled at her before descending from the air. Ginny and Harry both followed.
"No one was scoring against you! And I was distracted!"
"Yes, but I still think I won, and so does Harry, don't you?"
She looked up at Harry expectantly, who grimaced as he looked between the two of them.
"Er, yeah, yeah you did, Gin, great job."
Ron narrowed his eyes at his best friend as Ginny kissed him on the cheek as thanks, but before Ron could say anything Hermione dropped the basket on the ground, picked up her wand in one hand, and grabbed his hand with the other.
"Alright, enough bickering from the three of you. We have a picnic to enjoy," she said, levitating the basket now.
Ron gave her a brilliant smile that she matched and gripped her hand more tightly in his own. "She's right, you two have fun..." he trailed off, as if realizing what he was saying. "But not too much fun! Keep your pants on."
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother and pulled at Harry's shoulder, who had closed his eyes and winced. "Come on, Harry. Let's play a couple more rounds."
Harry nodded, and the couple took off back into the air as Ron led Hermione down a path and towards the orchard. Hermione squeezed his hand and leaned into his side.
"You know," she said, carefully guiding the picnic basket and her textbook with her wand as they walked, "you really shouldn't be commenting on their private affairs, Ron."
"Oh, come one, I'm just taking the mickey out of them. It's not like they're shagging- I don't think anyone could, really, with Mum watching us all like a hawk."
Hermione murmured noncommittally at that. Of course, she knew that Harry and Ginny had progressed past snogging while they were all still at Hogwarts. Ginny had burst into the sixth year girl's dorms, locked the door, and told Hermione all about it the day after it happened, despite Hermione's protests about Harry being like her brother.
Not that she would ever correct Ron in his assumptions. She didn't wish for total nuclear fallout in the Weasley family.
"Anyway," he continued cheerfully, not noticing Hermione's lack of response. "Harry knows if he ever knocked up my sister or I found them in a compromising situation, I'd hex him."
Hermione rolled her eyes at this. They had come upon the orchard now, and Ron slowed down looking for a nice tree to make camp underneath. They both stopped at the same one, and Hermione put the basket down on the ground and grabbed her book from the top. Ron opened up the lid and pulled out a blanket, which Hermione helped him set down, and some sandwiches and fruit, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.
The two got comfortable on the blanket and ate in companionable silence for a while, neither really feeling the need to break it with conversation as they ate their lunch. Once the sandwiches were finished, Ron pulled out a couple of butterbeers and some pumpkin pasties, handing one of each to Hermione. She took them gratefully and leaned against the tree, her knees bent to make a pillow for Ron. He leaned against her, taking a drink from his butterbeer.
"I'm nervous, Hermione," he finally said, leaning his head back to rest on her knees. "About auror training."
"Why?" she asked.
Ron stayed silent for a few moments. He started picking at the label of his drink with his nail, dragging it across the paper and causing it to tear. Hermione waited patiently, her hand coming up to his head to drag her fingers through his hair. He made a noise of pleasure in the back of his throat, then opened his eyes to look at her.
"What if I'm not good enough for it?"
Hermione sighed deeply, her fingers still moving through his locks. "Ronald, you are much more capable than you give yourself credit for."
"I guess," he said, not sounding sure.
"You are," she said firmly, her hands stopping now. "And the only thing that's going to stop you from doing this is yourself. So you need to go in ready to work hard and do well, and you will."
Ron hummed, then abruptly sat up and turned towards her.
"You're right," he said, suddenly bright. "And the best part is once I pass, I'll come back, and we'll get to move to London together in our very own flat near the Ministry, explore the city. It'll be wicked."
It took Hermione much more effort than it should have to keep her eyes from going wide. She hadn't even begun to think about what her living arrangement would be over the next year, and frankly living with Ron likely wouldn't have been on her list. Their fledgling relationship seemed too fragile to test with something that big, and part of her wanted independence. She had never lived on her own before, and this seemed like the time to do it. Plus, she was much too practical to move in with a boyfriend at 18 fresh out of school. What if they broke up? What if their plans changed? They were too young to be making plans around one another like this.
Still, Ron's enthusiasm was palpable. Hermione could see the home and anticipation shining in his face, so she mustered a smile.
"That would be lovely, Ron."
He nodded, overlooking the moments she was lost in thought, and leaned in to kiss her.
Hermione and Ron had stayed out in the orchard until dinner. Luckily, no more talk of future plans arose. Instead, they talked about everything else. Ron's time with Bill and Fleur, Hermione's childhood fear of the tooth fairy, Ron's favorite way to tell the tale of Babbity Rabbity. They stayed like that, swapping stories and laughing together, until the sun went down and they both decided it was time to depart.
Dinner went by in a blur. Hermione was tired from her early morning, and she ate quickly without much fuss. After her plate was clear, she stood, the first at the table to be done.
"Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Weasley," she said, smiling at Molly. Then, she turned to Ron. "I'm completely knackered. I'm going to head off to bed."
He nodded at her, and she kissed his cheek before trudging up to Ginny's room. She changed into her pajamas quickly, wanting to be asleep as soon as possible. When she was finished, she threw herself onto her bed without looking and was rewarded with a book being shoved into her side.
"What?" she murmured to herself, hopping off the mattress and looking to inspect it. On top of her rumpled comforter lay a book, leather bound and ancient looking, with gold leaf script reading Magicke of the Minde on the front. She picked up the tome and found it was heavy, at least double the size of her Advanced Charms book, and had a piece of parchment sticking out the front cover. She put the book on her bedside table and plucked out the parchment, which she found covered in a vaguely familiar scrawl, holding it close to the lamp to read it.
Hermione-
This was Fred's. He found it useful when we were researching how to make the daydream charms work, thought maybe it would have something useful for you in it too.
-G
PS. Thanks for talking to me like a person today
Hermione had to read it twice to realize what it meant. George had brought her a book from his and Fred's personal library. To help with her parents. And he had thanked her. Her chest warmed and she felt a smile spread to her face, almost of its own accord. She tucked the scrap of paper back into the front cover of the book and laid back down, extinguishing the lamp with her wand. Yes, this was very curious indeed.