Simultaneously, Fred and Hermione let go of each other and sat up, taking explicit care not to touch the other, pink dusting both their faces. Fred ran a hand through his auburn tresses and Hermione fiddled with the hem of the shirt she was wearing. The recollection that it was Fred's shirt did not help her predicament. Neither of them met each other's eyes, but instead looking at anything else in the room, and not focusing on any one thing more than a few seconds.
"So what was that, then?" George raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two embarrassed teens. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to take the mickey, but something about this didn't sit well with him.
When no one answered, he looked to Hermione. "Granger, you usually have the answers. Care to explain?"
Hermione looked up and met his eyes. She almost flinched at the similarity of his gaze and that of his brother whom she'd just cuddled with. She cleared her throat and began in a strong voice.
"I'm not sure, but it may have something to do with how I arrived here." At that, Fred finally looked at her, and this time, she did flinch.
She looked at both of their expectant faces encouraging her to continue before burying her face in her hands – not willing to see the looks on those faces when she lets the shoe drop.
"A rogue death eater sent me back in time." At their silence she peeked through her fingers. They stared back, expressionless. Suddenly very nervous, she dropped her hands to her lap, playing with the hem once again. "He was insane. He'd stolen a prototype time turner from the Department of Mysteries and was going to send me back to the war and give me over to Vol- You Know Who." She caught herself just in time, she'd almost forgotten about the taboo. "He kept saying that he would turn the war, bring victory to his side and that he'd be praised for his good deed." She rambled.
A hand came over and covered both of her own, stopping her nervous fidgeting. The contact of his strong hand, calloused from swinging a beater's bat for years, instantly calmed the agitation that she didn't know she was feeling. It was immediate, like water pouring over her and melting away the tension, more soothing than any calming draught she'd ever taken. Her brows furrowed over this new development.
"Wouldn't want you to stretch out my shirt, now would we, Granger?" Fred murmured, in a state of numbness. He didn't know what to feel. He had half a mind to ask her a security question, it was just that barmy of an explanation.
As if on cue, his other half did just that. "Granger, what did we give to Harry your third year to help him get to Hogsmead?" George asked in a hard voice. Not very many people knew of the map, or how Harry came to own it. Mentally, he patted his brother on the back.
Hermione looked affronted. "The Marauder's Map. You nicked it from Filch your first year." She almost started panicking, she never thought of what she'd do if they didn't believe her.
Fred, sensing this, rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand in soothing circles. He watched in fascinated alarm as the wild look in her whiskey colored irises faded and her breathing calmed slightly.
"You have to believe me." She said in a small voice. Fred felt a tug beneath his navel and an urge to comfort and reassure her. He frowned, but continued tracing circles on her hand.
"You have to admit, it's a bit far-fetched. We're in the middle of a war for Merlin's sake." George said his eyes locked on his twin's movements.
"And what of my new scar? Those metal pieces you picked out? The sand?" She looked between the identical men, imploring them to understand. She took her hand back from Fred in her gesticulations. "That was from the ruined time turner."
The twins shared a look, a silent conversation waging behind small changes in expression. Almost imperceptibly, they nodded to each other and turned back to the worried witch.
"Alright Granger-" Fred began.
"Let's say this is true-"
"Why did you arrive here?"
She could have laughed if the situation wasn't so monumental, she'd never seen the twins without their usual mischievous sparkle, but now their expressions held an amusing amount of seriousness.
"I don't know." She admitted. "The death eater wanted to send me to You-Know-Who. I don't know why I ended up here with you." It was only partially a lie. She had a theory, but she didn't want to expand on it without further research. Research that wouldn't come until the end of the war.
She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. The war. Clinically, she knew she was back in it and had to fight again, but she didn't stop to think about what that would entail. As if her dreams every night weren't enough, she'd been shoved back into the midst of the nightmare itself. It was one thing to act like an auror bringing in criminals, it was another thing entirely to fight for your life in a true battle. She thought it was over. It never was.
Both boys watched her mood turn, her expression fall, and the look in her eyes take on a haunted gaze. They knew nothing, and didn't know how to help her – even if they'd been closer friends, she'd had different experiences they knew they couldn't imagine. They felt helpless. So they did the only thing they could. George climbed on the bed on the other side of Hermione and threw an arm around her shoulders while Fred put one around her waist. It was awkward at first, but eventually they relaxed into the embrace.
The weight of their arms around her brought out the metaphorical weight of her situation. She patted herself on the back for making it this far without a breakdown. A few whole hours. One tear slipped out, then another. A choked sob escaped her throat and the muscled arms tightened. Her face fell into her hands and he body shook. The twins shared a sad look over her hunched form. George began to rub the back of her neck while Fred ran his hand up and down her spine in soothing motions.
She began to feel slightly better almost immediately, her sobs turned into sniffles, but she didn't look up- she was too unnerved. She analyzed instead. She knew exactly which twin had calmed her. Both twins held the same amount of pressure, their soothing motions moved in tandem with the other, the feel of their hands was identical in every way. But yet she knew that it was Fred's touch that calmed the panic and helplessness that raged inside.
"So," George began after she had quieted down. "what was with the cuddling?" That was the million galleon question wasn't it?
She felt Fred stiffen slightly, mirroring her own internal feelings.
She was silent for a long minute. "I don't know." She said quietly as if it pained her to say the words.
She expected them to take the mickey about The Hermione Granger not knowing something, but to her pleasant surprise, they didn't. George just got up, mentioned something about making dinner and walked out of the room. In a way, she sort of wished they had poked fun, at least it wouldn't have been so awkward.
Both of the remaining occupants of the room seemed to realize at the same time that they were left alone. Fred quickly removed his arm from around her and internally frowned at the disappointed feeling from the loss of contact. Hermione felt it too and shoved the feeling aside to analyze later where she had a whole library of references at her disposal.
Fred awkwardly cleared his throat. He realized too late that he'd caught her attention with the noise and looked around the room trying to find something to talk about. His eyes landed on her jacket and he let a cocky smirk adorn his features, trying to get back to normalcy.
"Tell me, Granger, what's with the dragon hide? Did you finally get a taste for fashion?" He teased.
She took on an amused grin and replied nonchalantly, "It's apparent that you and I have different ideas on what's actually in fashion as my outfit is decidedly not magenta." She let a smirk crawl across her lips and continued in her airy tone. "But as an auror, you need the best protection you can get, and my clothes have built-in armor."
Fred adopted a fake offended expression complete with hand over his heart theatrics at the jab at his uniform before it dissolved into an impressed look of surprise. "Bloody hell, we thought you'd go into a career that deals with research or be a champion of magical creatures' rights, not become an auror."
"I thought so too." She chuckled.
"So what happened?" He asked.
She sobered at that. "I think George should hear the answer that that one as well."
Taking note of the suddenly tense atmosphere, he got up and made his way to the door. "Well, let's go see if supper is ready, shall we?"
He had just past the doorway when he felt the knot in his stomach. He paused in the hallway to look back at Hermione to see her still sitting on the bed, brows furrowed in confusion and pain. Their eyes met in silent question, but neither whiskey nor mocha knew the answer.
Supper consisted of whatever happened to be in the twins' kitchen, which turned out to be muggle canned soup and stale-but thankfully not moldy- bread. Hermione didn't mind as she understood that they couldn't very well pop down to the store with the state of the war. Besides, in her time, she never got fully used to normal eating habits after spending months of eating berries, mushrooms and poorly cooked fish at varying times. All the same, she waved off their apologetic glances with perhaps too-cheerful smiles.
A single tall, white candle sat in the middle of the small, round wooden table, providing just enough light to eat by. Night had fallen on them, the stars twinkled just outside the nearby window. They were situated in an empty corner of the kitchen that acted as a dining room. By Hermione's unconscious choice, she could see the opening that led to the hallway as well as the one leading to the living room and front door.
"If you don't mind me asking," She began, placing her spoon down on the wooden table before her. "what happened to Potterwatch? And why are you at the flat?"
It had been bugging her since she arrived. She knew they traveled to different positions to avoid snatchers. On that note, she wondered where Lee Jordan was. She also knew the shop had been destroyed and she couldn't imagine that staying here was actually safe. She wiped at her mouth with her napkin.
"It's still going." Fred said from his position across from her as he reached for his glass of water.
"We only do it every few nights-" George added from his place next to them.
"and we split up when we leave in case anyone follows us."
"That way we can check in with our family as well."
"We only came back here for extra products to restore what's been used already." Fred finished shoving another spoonful in his mouth.
George laughed leaning back. "You're lucky you landed on us when you did, Granger. We'd almost left to go back to Aunt Muriel's."
Hermione briefly felt guilty for holding them back from seeing the rest of their family. She pushed the feeling aside and said, "Thank you, for caring for me." With a shy grin as she raised her spoon to her mouth.
"Ah but Granger, it should be us thanking you." Fred said with that infuriating, cocky smirk. At her confused expression, George spoke up.
"Yeah, no one wants to be around our dear Aunt Muriel more than necessary." She chuckled.
The flames from the candle flickered, casting shadows on their faces and illuminating their mischievous grins. She briefly had thoughts of muggle ghost stories and the traditional flashlight under the chin before she pushed that train of thought away. She didn't need ghost stories when the tales of their reality hold true terror.
There was a moment of silence that lengthened with each clank of silverware and slurp of soup. The boys shared looks over their bowls and kept glancing at Hermione.
"I suppose you boys want to hear my story?" She asked after a while having grown tired of their obvious actions. They nodded, seemingly sheepish, but she knew better. She pushed her empty bowl away from her and rested her hands on the table, right hand over left.
"We won the war." She began. The twins immediately had huge, relieved grins stretched across their faces. Her own smile turned sad. "There were many casualties." Her voice cracked slightly. She lifted her glass to her mouth and let the lukewarm water flow over her tongue and swallowed.
"Wait-" Fred interrupted, holding his hands up. "Aren't there rules about time travel? Should you be telling us anything?"
Hermione's eyebrows shot up, mouth parted slightly.
"Don't seem so shocked, Granger." George admonished in a playful tone. "We do pick up a book every now and then."
"Only when you're causing mayhem or creating a product." She said rolling her eyes. She froze, thinking over what she just said. "You didn't." Her eyes bounced back and forth between the boys.
"We thought about it." Fred allowed with a smirk.
"But we thought better of it." George's smirk matched his twin's.
"Do have some faith, Granger." Fred jested.
Hermione let out a relieved sigh before ignoring them and answering their previous question. "Since I apparently 'disappeared' from my bed at Shell Cottage, I'm operating under the assumption that my counterpart and myself merged and that the future is subject to change."
The boys nodded in unison but kept their curiosities about her stay at Shell Cottage inside. They knew she'd tell them in due time.
"Harry did it." She continued. "He killed Him." She allowed a small smile to grace her face. "We tried to move on. Rebuild what was broken, and find some normalcy." She had a faraway look in her eye as she explained. She stared into the living room, focused on a loose thread on the sofa.
"Harry and Ron went straight into auror training, and I went back to Hogwarts."
"Naturally." Fred interjected, trying to keep some humor in the tense setting.
She ignored him, or didn't hear him. "But Ron had trouble getting back to fighting. Any green spell was too similar to an Avada Kedavra, it was all much too similar to the battles of the war. So I took his place as Harry's partner."
"That explains the dragon hide." George mumbled to himself, taking another bite of the hard bread.
"I had a list." She said quietly. Her idle hands tore at her own piece of bread. "It had every name I could remember. Death eaters that took something from us. I had almost completed it."
George swallowed his bite thickly. He reached for his water.
"Augustus Rookwood. He'd gone mad. He sent me here, expecting to change the outcome of the war by handing me over to You-Know-Who."
Fred's hand clenched into a fist before he could question it. He ignored it and continued to listen.
"I don't know why it didn't work that way or why there were… side effects, and I won't know until I can properly research. That won't happen until we win the war again."
She refocused her gaze on the twins. Both showed differing looks of understanding. George was more calculative while Fred held determination. Looking at them then, she could understand how the duo worked so well together. Two different approaches and styles combining for a strong, united front.
They shared a glance, speaking a language she could never hope to understand. They nodded and turned back to face the war-hardened witch before them.
"Alright, Granger," Fred began.
"How do we win?" George finished.
Both held wide grins that could shape galaxies, but she knew that Fred's would break the stars.