Fifth Year (Part one)
~o0o~
The new surroundings took shape, and Hermione gasped when a non-corporeal Angelina strode determinedly through her and up to the twins by the Entrance Hall.
"Hi, boys," said Angelina.
"Hello," Fred and George said in unison.
"So," the girl continued, flicking her long, braided hair over her shoulder (a motion George's eyes followed with interest), "as you know I was made Quidditch Captain—"
"Yes, we got the letter," said Fred and smirked. "And if we hadn't then I think the announcement you made us all listen to yesterday was quite telling."
Angelina ignored him.
"As I said, I was made Captain and since Oliver's left we need to have tryouts for a new Keeper. I would like you to be on the pitch on Friday, five o'clock, yeah?"
"Sure thing, Ange," said George.
The girl nodded. "Good. See you in Herbology later, then." And with that, she departed.
"Wonder who the new blood'll be," said Fred, thinking aloud.
"Dunno, there's no one that really comes to mind, is there?"
The two of them continued their way to the Great Hall, and once in, stepped up to young Hermione and the others. They were just in time to hear their youngest brother complain about the schedule Proffessor McGonagall had handed to him.
"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defense Against the Dark Arts. . .Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those 'Skiving Snackboxes' sorted. . ."
The twins exchanged gleeful grins.
"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, squeezing himself down together with George on to the bench next to Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"
"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."
"Fair point, little bro," said Fred, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of 'Nosebleed Nougat' cheap if you like."
"Why's it cheap?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George.
"Cheers," said Ron moodily, pocketing his timetable. "But I think I'll take the lessons."
"And speaking of your 'Skiving Snackboxes'", said Hermione, having followed the conversation and been waiting for the right moment to cut in. She kept her eyes firm on Fred and George while she spoke. "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard."
"Says who?" said George, looking astonished.
"Says me," said Hermione. "And Ron."
"Leave me out of it," said Ron hastily.
Memory Hermione glared at him. Fred and George sniggered.
"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a 'Snackbox' before long."
"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a 'Skiving Snackbox'?" asked Hermione.
Her raised eyebrow and challenging tone seemed to set something off within him because Fred was grinning uncontrollably. This might potentially have turned awkward if retained for another few seconds, so George answered for his brother, "Fifth year's OWL year." There was a slight shift when he spoke and real Hermione guessed he'd just kicked Fred under the table.
"So?" said her younger self.
"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you?" said Fred, looking none too bothered by the previous assault. "They'll be keeping your noses so hard to the grindstone that they'll be rubbed raw," he continued with satisfaction, relishing in the way Hermione huffed, enjoying riling her up far too much.
George rolled his eyes but proceeded happily, "Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs. Tears and tantrums. . .Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint. . ."
"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" said Fred reminiscently.
"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas," said George.
"Oh yeah," said Fred, grinning. "I'd forgotten. . .hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"
They continued talking about how awful the fifth year was supposed to be and how, luckily, they'd never had to deal with the unpleasantness that came with worrying about your grades. Hermione pursed her mouth in disapproval (but also slight jealousy), while Ron felt the need to point out that their three OWLs sure were proof of that.
"Yep," said Fred unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."
"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," said George brightly. "now that we've got—"
He broke off, and Hermione saw that Harry was sending him what looked like a warning look.
"—now that we've got our OWLs," said George hastily. "I mean, do we really need NEWTs? But we didn't think mum would take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."
That did not seem like what he was about to say. He stopped when Harry looked at him. . .But why would he. . .?
"We're not going to waste our last year here though," said Fred, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. The words carried a double meaning to Hermione now though, and she hurriedly tried to quench the flutter she felt when Fred's eyes finished their perusing and focused on her younger self.
"We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from a joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, then produce products to fit the demands."
Lie. . .
Now it seemed strange how easy they all just believed what the twins were saying to be true. Why would the twins need to do market research to see what fit their demographic? The twins were the demographic. Although, Hermione supposed they wouldn't very well want to tell the younger kids they were there out of concern for them. The Golden Trio would not like to be assigned babysitters.
"But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?" 'Mione asked skeptically, returning his gaze. "You're going to need all the ingredients and materials- and premises too, I suppose. . ."
There was a clang, and Harry bent down under the table to retrieve his dropped fork. And that's when it finally dawned on her.
Of course! Harry. . .he gave them the money from the tournament. . . that's why they're acting so strange.
Silly it had taken her this long to put those two pieces together and remember.
Meanwhile, Fred leaned forward, winked, and grabbed two stacks of toast. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione."
Hermione's cheeks adopted a tiny shade of pink but she shook it off quickly before Ron noticed what had just transpired or Harry emerged from underneath the table.
Fred grinned. "C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few 'Extendable Ears' before Herbology."
He handed his brother one of the stacks of toast and walked away just as Harry resurfaced.
"Before you start, brother," said Fred as the two of them exited the Hall, "I have figured it out."
"Figured what out?" said George.
"I'm not going to spend this last year at school pining over a girl I don't have a chance with. Instead, I'll just become friends with her." They were now outside, crossing the lawn towards the greenhouses, and Fred silently casted a charm to protect them against the heavy rain.
"You wink at all your friends?" said George.
His twin raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"I'm only joking," said George. "I know you do. Sometimes it actually creeps me out. Harry is such an innocent young boy. . ."
Fred laughed.
"Anyway," Fred continued, "I'm not a mopey person, so I finally figured that if I want to talk to her that's fine, because it's just talking, and it actually makes me less nervous thinking nothing will come of it, you know?"
"Brilliant, Fred with his reigns loose," said George, without enthusiasm. He didn't appear too eager on the idea. Then, a wicked grin surfaced. "Actually, that will most definitely make nothing come off this. She'll run the other way."
"Ha-ha," said Fred.
George smiled. "You do appear calmer and more at peace, though, so maybe this will be good for you. Hell, you might even end up friends with Granger and have all of us surprised."
The hopeful faces of the two boys was the last thing she saw before scenery switched. Hermione took a second to look around and realized she was now standing in a far corner in the common room. She immediately spotted her counterpart sitting in a chair by the fire, next to Harry and Ron, and appeared to have been studying up until recently. Her eyes were squinting onto something behind her.
Oh, no…
Hermione turned and saw where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the center of a knot of innocent-looking first years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.
Oh, Merlin…
Young Hermione stood up and the sound of the chair scraping was what made real Hermione glance back in her direction. She saw her arguing with Ron who mumbled and sunk into his chair the longer she kept at it, before huffing and resolutely walking over to the twins and Lee on her own. She had squared her shoulders and put on her best disciplinary face before she finally stood in front of her three seniors. Fred and George stood holding clipboards, closely observing the unconscious first-years who, one by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, were slumping unconscious in their seats.
Most of the people around the common room watching were laughing.
"That's enough!" Hermione said, forcefully, to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.
"Yeah, you're right," said George, nodding, "this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"
Hermione let out an exasperated noise at the way George had entirely missed the point. "I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!"
"We're paying them!" said Fred indignantly.
She snapped her head around, looking at him with fire in her eyes. "I don't care, it could be dangerous!"
"Rubbish," said Fred, waving a dismissive hand at her accusation, but the way he crossed his arms after showed that his temper was flaring up as well.
"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" said Lee reassuringly, glancing between the two of them, as he walked from first-year to first year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.
"Yeah, look, they're coming round now," said George, sensing the danger in having both his brother and Hermione getting fired up.
A few of the first-years were indeed stirring and as they tentatively sat up George inquired about their health. "Feel all right?" he said kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet.
"I - I think so," she said shakily.
"Excellent," said Fred happily, but the next second Hermione had snatched both his clipboard
and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands.
"It is NOT excellent!"
"Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" said Fred angrily.
Despite him being more than a head taller, Hermione managed to hold her own surprisingly well. She had had no intention of letting them get away with this, despite their 'successful' attempt. "You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"
Fred pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. "We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same—"
But Hermione hadn't found this to be good enough of an answer. These were tiny first-years they'd been testing on after all. It was wrong. Both now and then. "If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to—"
"Put us in detention?" challenged Fred.
"Make us write lines?" said George, smirking.
Onlookers all over the room were laughing. Hermione drew herself up to her full height; her eyes narrowed and her bushy hair crackling with electricity.
"No," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother."
"You wouldn't," said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.
"Oh, yes, I would," said Hermione grimly. "I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years."
Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire.
Hermione knew she'd be scolding Ron for not helping her, letting her play the bad guy all by herself. She'd hated using that threat against them, but in face of humiliation she'd been left with no choice. Besides, what they'd been doing should not have been allowed to go on. She was surprised none of the other, older prefects had said anything. Why was it up to her alone to be setting things right? The twins were well liked and people who opposed them weren't very popular but weren't they supposed to be in the house of lions? Where was that bravery and sense for justice?
Hermione watched as her younger self wrenched her bag open. Harry had been observing curiously nearby, only to act surprised when she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects and placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace.
Meanwhile, the twins were having a heated debate.
"I can't believe she'd do that! Threaten us like that! You do realize if mum were to find out—"
"We can kiss our entire work goodbye? Yeah, I figured that out for myself thanks," said Fred and snorted. He looked angry, but also disappointed and betrayed.
George noticed. "C'mon, you knew who she was going into this. Can't tell me you've been forgetting how she's a model student?"
Fred bristled in silence, glaring at Hermione's tiny figure leaving for the girls' dormitories while avoiding looking at them.
"So much for being friends with her, I suppose," said George, looking defeated on his brother's behalf.
Time sped forwards.
The common room was near empty. Fred and George and Lee were occupying the seats by fire now.
Lee was going on about something he'd done that summer when he stopped. "I'm sorry, I can't stand it any longer, what on earth is that?"
Fred and George looked to where their friend was pointing.
"I saw Hermione pull them out earlier," said Fred. Anger returned to his face and he murmured "Evanesco" at the knitted pile of wool.
Real Hermione gasped.
George had a pleased twitch pull at his lips at the revenge but let out a theatrical sigh. "I'm not paying for your funeral, just so you know." He looked at his brother. "Make you feel better?"
Fred scowled. "No. I'm going to bed."
George and Lee followed.
The memory changed and they were now in the Great Hall.
Fred and George were silent and poking their food around until Angelina seemed to have had enough; dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter.
"You're behaving like children" she said.
"Hey," said Fred, "we weren't the ones threatening people, potentially ruining their lives!"
Angelina stared her friend down. "You were testing on first years."
George sighed. "Please, not you too."
"Yes, me too. It might have been low to say she'd tell your mother, but maybe if you'd been more careful and at least not done it in the bloody common room, she wouldn't have had to reprimand you. It's her job."
"So, what you're saying is that we should sneak around?" asked Fred, skeptical.
"Don't put words in my mouth, Fred Weasley," said Angelina, chastising him. "All I'm trying to explain is that Hermione is a prefect, and though you two may not know anything about obligations, she has them."
She didn't wait for an answer before turning to where Hermione sat alone at the end of the table. "Hermione, come join us, will you?"
Memory 'Mione looked up from her plate and book. She almost smiled at Angelina, but that was before she spotted Fred and George sitting opposite the other witch.
"C'mon," said Angelina.
Hermione hesitated, but eventually caved and headed for the seat Angelina left open for her.
"Thank you," she said glancing nervously at the twins. Both of them were engaged in conversation, clearly an attempt to avoid talking to her without seeming too rude. Which they failed.
Angelina shot them a dark look. "Anyway," the Chaser continued. "What are you up to? Where are your other two-thirds?"
Hermione tore her eyes away from the twins. "Oh, they're away in the library."
"Without you? How come?"
"They're working on some homework."
"And not you?"
"Well," Hermione frowned. "I'm not as behind as they are and, frankly, I could do without Ron's company for a while."
"What did he do now?" asked Angelina.
"Well. . ."
"Hermi—"
"He made fun of my hats!"
Hermione blushed when she realized the volume of her words. Fred and George had even looked up at her. "I mean," she continued, lowering her voice. "He made fun of my knitting, after I mentioned that the hats I made for the House-elves—"
Angelina raised her brows. "You knitted hats for the elves?"
Hermione smiled. "Yes, and they were all gone this morning! It's like I said, they truly must want freedom-"
She was interrupted by a loud spluttering.
Fred coughed and wiped the pumpkin juice off himself.
"All right there, Freddie?" asked Angelina.
"Ye-Yeah. Just so happy to hear about the elves and the hats. All gone you said, Hermione?"
Hermione beamed at him. "Yes, all gone! Oh, and let me help you with that," she added and cleaned the juice away with a flick of her wand.
"Thank you," said Fred, meeting her eyes. Half a second passed before he broke the contact, looking away, and reminded himself to be angry with her.
"You're. . .welcome," Hermione said, having dropped her smile as the mood seemed to grow heavier.
Fred and George were looking at their plates again and Angelina fidgeted a little under the tension.
There was a small silence before Hermione had enough. "I'm sorry," she said.
The twins jerked their heads up.
"I'm sorry about threatening to tell your mother, it was low of me, and though you were doing something very wrong, and honestly quite irresponsible and horrible, as using first-years as Guinea pigs for your own experiments—"
"You don't apologize too often, do you?" said George.
Young Hermione had to restrain herself from glowering at him and gave a pleased smile when Angelina leaned across the table to smack him on the arm.
"You boys know it was a dumb thing to do, yet she's the one apologizing. You ungrateful sods should be thankful for what you get. Go on, Hermione."
"Well, er. . .yes, I hope you know I won't tell your mother, is all, I suppose. And sorry, again."
Fred and George exchanged contemplative looks while Hermione gulped and had sweat gathering everywhere in anxiety. Then, they both nodded and broke into huge grins as they said in unison: "Apology accepted!"
The witch beamed again and sighed in relief. "Really? That's it?"
"There's no real point in staying mad at someone after they've apologized, is there?" said Fred, looking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"That's. . .oddly mature of you, Fred," said Hermione.
Fred grinned.
"And don't worry about the first years, Hermione, I'm sure the boys will take their experiments elsewhere. Won't you?" said Angelina, and looked pointedly at the twins.
"Cross my heart," said George.
"Swear it on the reflection on Snape's greasy hair," said Fred.
The latter comment made Hermione scrunch her nose up but seemed satisfied until a thought occurred to her, "When you say 'elsewhere', do you mean not first years or just not the common room—"
"Hey, Hermione," interrupted Angelina. "I forgot to ask you about these new books we got for Defense against the Dark arts. This 'Defensive Magical Theory' thing. You're a book expert; think you have something else I could check into that actually will help me with my NEWTs?"
This snapped Hermione out of whatever she had previously been thinking and the twins shot appreciative looks at their classmate.
"Don't tell me you have the exact same ones despite being in your seventh year?!"
Angelina nodded. "'Fraid we do. Utter rubbish as well."
"Completely agree," said Hermione. "And I'm not sure, I could check. I might have something in my dorm—"
"You have NEWT level literature?" said Fred. Then he shook his head, laughing. "What am I saying, 'course you do."
"As I said," continued Hermione, ignoring him. "I might have something, just give me some time to look."
"Cheers! You're a life-saver, Hermione."
Hermione smiled. "Don't know about that. Honestly, though. Professor Umbridge is just ruining everyone's exams, I'm glad Harry told her off actually…he should have gotten points instead of detention, but don't tell him I told you that, don't want him to think I approved."
Angelina stared. "Back up—he got detention? What day?"
Hermione realized what the detentions would interfere with and started to squirm. "Er. . ."
"Hermione," said Angelina.
The fifth year gulped.
"What day?"
Hermione looked down at her hands. "Every day this week…"
It looked like fumes would steam out of her ears, that's how angry Angelina was.
"Potter," she said, his name leaving her lips sounding like a curse.
Fred and George tried hard not to laugh at the miserable face Hermione was making as Angelina started shouting her frustrations ('What's the point of trying out for a new Keeper when the whole team isn't even there?!'). They did pale, however, when Angelina turned her attentions to them and assured them a slow death if they were to land themselves in trouble as well.
~o0o~
A/N: Hello, Lovelies!
Wow, I continue being amazed at the love this story is getting. You guys are absolutely incredible! Thank you so much for reviewing, following and adding this story to your favorites!
Some sad news: Updates will be less frequent for a while. Again, school is to blame. Sorry! *inserts five hundred sad smiley faces*
Hope you enjoyed this chapter of Fremione goodness though!
Until next time!
/Primrue