Chapter 29

Falling Luck

"Please tell me you've snuck something up here?" Harry asked, leaning out of his bed as Hermione slipped through the door to the infirmary.

It had been two days and despite Snape's immediate work after the incident and Madam Pomfrey's series of Replenishment Drafts, Harry still remained in the Hospital Wing Thursday evening, his arms and torso covered in what now looked like thin ribbon marks rather than horrifying gashes.

"It's just a Percausion" Madam Pomfrey had said after Harry had stumbled trying to get up the first night, "You lost a good amount of blood."

"I stayed in the Hospital Wing overnight after you regrew my arm. I've got all limbs, I can go—" Harry complained as the Gryffindor Quidditch team smirked watching him try to wiggle out of her administering another cup of the draft. The Matron pursed her lips and clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Yes, well I'd rather make sure you're keep up alright this time. I'm getting tired of re-growing and refurbishing Harry Potter every year."

Now he looked earnestly at Hermione with just a touch of crazy in his eye she recognized instantly as Cabin Fever.

"You're lucky I've got this bag," Hermione scoffed, sitting down at his bedside and pulling out a tin holding some Shepard's Pie she had knicked on her way up here from the kitchens. Harry set it on the table and pulled it over the bed, cutting himself a bite as Hermione filled his glass with bootleg pumpkin juice.

"Apparently getting on Madam Pomfrey's bad side isn't the best idea when she's the one who picks your dining options," Harry explained, taking down another bite the size of Hagrid's hand. "If I have another helping of Kippers and beans—"

"Never bite the hand that mends you," Hermione laughed, leaning into her chair, pulling out a book as she started making herself comfortable.

She had the evening shift. Her and Ginny had devised it to where Hermione would bother Harry while they were at Quidditch practice and she would come up with some of the team afterwards. While he might not be playing with them, he was still their captain, a detail the Slytherins couldn't change.

But this was a detail Hermione had changed.

She felt awful. To her reckoning, this was the first time she could blame herself for Harry's misfortune. He didn't know it, but in another world it was Draco Malfoy, not Harry, who had been exiled to the infirmary. Draco Malfoy that would sooner starve the commit himself to eating Kippers and Beans. Who would probably have welcomed a respite from his dreary life to sit and lay in the Hospital Wing. Who knows, maybe it was where he was able to gather his courage, come up with the last moment push to finish what Voldemort had charged him to do.

But because it was her, it had been Harry who was up here. And worse of all, He didn't realize it was her fault.

He should be ignoring her when ever she entered the room, not beaming at the sight of her and the hope of Shepard's pie.

"Madam Pomfrey has a point you know," Hermione started again, watching as her friend ate, "Two visits in less than as many months. People are going to start thinking the sorting hat ought to have placed you in the infirmary from the start."

Harry shook his head and waved his fork at her. "Says the girl who lived here her second year."

She brushed some lint off the chair, "I was petrified, it doesn't count."

"Like Hell," Harry laughed, and Hermione smiled despite herself. He straightened up and put down his utensils. "So what am I missing? Out in the castle—week before our last big game-"

"You're fan club is anxious to know the details of you and Draco's duel. Romilda Vane wanted to start a petition to have him expelled, but yours truly shut that down," she said simply, waving her hands as though mimicking a bow.

"He should be expelled for being a Death Eater—"

"We don't know that," Hermione lied, "It was Dark Magic—but there's no way you can say your 100% sure that Draco's a Death Eater. Besides—he's doing detention with Snape for the rest of the year and first six weeks of next. "

"Fine," he sighed, although she knew quite well he was ending the battle, not the war. "So Romilda wants to have Draco expelled. Why does she even care?"

"They care, because they hope if you hear about them caring you'll start to notice them" Hermione answered, crossing her legs and nesting her head on her free hand. "Don't worry, I think Ginny said something to them along the lines of leaving you alone. She told off a few who were lingering near here when the team swung by last night. The Potter Protectorate's probably disbanded by now, people know better than to cross Ginny."

Harry had this look on his face when she had talked about Ginny. You're obvious Potter, even Ron could see if he was here right now. "It's a pity she's such a good chaser," Hermione continued, string the words together with a smile "the way she takes care of you, you'd think she was a Beater."

"What?" he was coming to as though he had momentarily been smacked a beater's bat. " Right. Quidditch, can you hand me that book on the desk? I have some plays planned and I know you're not a big quidditch fan but your logical and—"

"Are you planning for next season already?" Hermione asked, hoping he wasn't thinking that far ahead.

"No, for this Saturday," Harry said, waving the model other."I'm missing practice on the pitch so I figured I'd fine tune in here—"

"Harry, you—" she looked over, trying to see if there was any movement from Madam Pomfrey's office, "You aren't playing. You heard Madam Pomfrey she—"

"Yes, yes, Potter's not playing,"Harry mimicked, turning his attention for the office and then back to Hermione. He lowered his voice and raised his eyebrow, "But what if I was lucky—"

Hermione's insides went cold. A chill as though she had been thrown in the lake only to be rescued by a Dementor.

She hadn't expected this.

The Felix.

The chill left her and she was left with a feeling of uneasiness. "Harry you can't mean—"

"There's just enough left. A few hours. That's all I need," Harry said confidently, as though it was the only logical option they had left. "Enough for Pomfrey to clear me and then go and play the game. I probably won't be in the air for all of ten minutes and Dobby's not going to have a bludger waiting. It'll—"

"I'll report you," she said, her voice deadly calm, "I swear I will. You can't—"

You can't even begin to fathom—You can't gamble with the lives that are saved because you leave us the Felix. How many curses had they dodged that night? We only lose Dumbledore that night—whose to say Draco getting Dumbledore's wand isn't somehow tied to the little bit of Felix Felicis you leave us? It gave us the perfect storm. The Death Curse had just barely missed Ginny—

The consequences of taking the Half Blood Prince's Book were starting to rack Hermione's heart.

And there was only so much she could say unless she wanted to share her secret with Harry.

He already knows about you and Fred. And if you share that secret, what is he going to do?

He'll think your barking. He'll think your insane. He'll have you committed.

He'll tell Fred.

Then what will you do?

"Hermione—"

She closed her eyes and took a breath, "Harry I can't explain why—but you need to save the Felix. What if there's something big—more hocruxes—what if –what if you could save friends with that potion—isn't that more important that Quidditch?"

Harry looked at her in such a way that for a moment, Hermione was confidence he thought she was mad, secret not shared, he had already jumped there.

And who knows, perhaps she was.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Her head was pounding. She felt physically sick. Her taking the Book wasn't going to kill Bill Weasley was it? There was just a bit of Felix left when Bill arrived. They had placed some water in the vial to get the last drops, was that what had spared him from the full effects of Greyback's attack? She couldn't be responsible for taking Fleur's husband and Molly's son—Fred and Ron's brother—The room seemed to lose air. Her heart began racing. Would Bill die because she didn't want Harry to maim Draco? And what about Ginny—

Was it worth it Hermione? Was it?

"Hermione—" Harry said again, honing her in, recalling her out of her thoughts, "Hermione it's alright. Really, you'll see—"

"Please don't take the potion," Hermione asked, her voice breaking "Please—please don't. Something's coming Harry—I can feel it. They day's going to come when you'll need that potion. More than anything. And it won't be for a Quidditch game."

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, trying to get of his bed to face her head on. To better understand, to uncover what was racking her. "Are you and Fred alright?"

"We're fine," she said, shaking her head dismissing his worry, "Really we are. I just—I don't have a good feeling about using the potion for this. And you know it's against the rules—"

Harry looked at her and shook his head, "Hermione, if you're this upset about it, don't worry. I'll find another way out of here. I swear."

"No Felix?" Hermione asked, the storm with in her still churning.

He grabbed her hand, in that usual familiar way he always had, even when they were on the run. He smiled, as thought that was part of the promise, "Not a drop."

((*))

Fred weaved in between the cars in the street as he headed back to Diagon Alley.

If it wasn't for the fact it was actually sunny and pleasant out, he would have apparated back to the shop immediately after leaving the little Radio and Muggle Appliance shop. But there was a blue sky stretched above London. Cascading white clouds that seemed to just skim along out of reach of the high rises and church steeples. He had noticed a good amount of tourists seem to fill into the city picking up tabloids their pages with the stationary pictures of a muggle princess and in another frame five spicy pop stars.

Last year, when they first moved into the shop, he had George had realized just how many muggle tourists seemed to descend on London. Lee had started a game half way through the summer where the three of them would go together to one of the popular tourist destinations and offer to be a local guide for an attractive collegiate tourist. They had only done it once as a trio, but Lee was ready to continue the tradition and not ready to accept that Fred Weasley wouldn't be participating.

He had skirted around the subject last night when Lee brought it up again. Sooner or later he'd let it slip to him that he wasn't interested in going on the prowl anymore. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if George had already dropped a hint or two to Lee.

He wove through the bustling streets; skivving between the sunshine and shadows. The crowds were still tucked in coffee shops and tea houses. The crowds so thin, the morning tomber so low that when a he heard a Weird Sister song being whistled in the wind, he looked up to see where it came from.

"Bill?" Fred called out, watching as his brother walked out of the tall, white marbled building on the corner.

"Freddie," Bill beamed, hopping off the last stair to where he was standing face to face with his brother.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked, trying to peak over his brother's shoulder. "Isn't that a muggle bank?"

"The Goblins needed me to run over the exchange currency," Bill explained, turning back at the white alabaster columns. "Understandably, Wizards are preferred by mugglebankers over goblins. And just as well, the wand work you have to do if a disguising spell backfires."

"Right," Fred nodded, "Do you do the exchanges? Frequently?"

"Usually once every Quarter," Bill answered, "There is an slight influx of muggleborns who stock up after leaving Kings Cross when school ends, Probably will run an exchange again at next month and then we won't do another one till term starts."

"Makes sense, I suppose."

"Are you headed back to Diagon Alley?" Bill asked, looking at Fred's bag, "Are you doing business in Muggle London?"

"Yes—" Fred said, glancing at the bag, "This is for a pet project. Something new—something different—a hobby."

"Other than jokes?" Bill turned his head around, trying to read the store label stamped on the bag.

"Side hobby," Fred looked around. "Taking a leaf from dad's book. Little Muggle Oddities."

Bill gave the bag a second glance and shook his head. "I won't tell dad. If I do, next trip to the Burrow you won't make it past the gate before dad'll shanghai you to the shed to help him on something."

"Appreciate it,"Fred sighed, clutching the bag a little tighter. Bill noticed with a shadow. "Come on, its still early enough and the weather's actually descent. Hyde Park isn't far off, lets take a walk around the Serpentine before we head back."

"You sure? Work not expecting you?" Fred asked as the two already veered across the street toward the Park's Path.

"Work I under the impression I'm making the drop and then meeting Fleur for another bout of wedding planning. Fleur's under the impression I'm working all day."

Fred snickered and Bill shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm planning on surprising her for lunch. She just doesn't know yet. Women like romantic surprises like that every now and then. You'll learn that soon enough—"

Oh I know already, Fred thought. Remembering the surprised eyes and quick smile that seemed to light up Hermione's face when he met her in Hogsmead last month. He'd have to plan a few more surprises between the school years. Perhaps a trip to the sea side. Or they could do side-along apparation and go somewhere further—the southern coast of France. Or Barcelona—some place where they were away from all the danger. Where no one knew their faces, their names or their stories. Somewhere they could just be be.

As they turned the cornor Fred realized that Bill had stopped talking and he turned to face his brother quickly. "Sorry blacked out for a moment. What was that?"

It was his brother's turn to smirk. "Oh nothing. Just wanted to know if cared to share anymore details about that hobby of yours.

"Oh," Fred started. It wasn't a secret. Besides, if there was anyone he could trust in his family, it was probably Bill. Or Charlie. Pretty much anyone aside from Percy—and Ron. "Lee inherited a magical radio a few months ago. We're trying to see if we can get it up and running so we can do transmissions on it."

"Do a Prankster Comedy hour?" Bill asked.

"Perhaps," Fred shrugged. "But with the mail getting searched, we thought if we set up a secret station—perhaps that would be a more effective way to get work around to people about what's going on. Save a few lives along the way."

They entered into the gates of Hyde Park and Bill motioned his head to left path. The Park was at an almost eerie still a the rest of London. Fred could hear the laughs of people rowing on the Serpentine in the distance, their oars splashing into the water.

"Remus told me you've taken up service as an owl," Bill said evenly, fiddling with a nob at his wrist that Fred recognized as his wand. "That's the othe reason I'm not rushing off to Fleur yet or back to the office, I have a drop to make in an hour."

"Who are you dropping the letter to," Fred asked eagerly.

Bill shook his head, "Can't say, protection of the Owls."

"Bullocks, Remus told you I was doing it. Can't call sanctity of something after you've already run it through the gutter like that," Fred quipped, "Seriously Bill—who?"

"Dumbledore knows. And he's the only person who does. Remus only told me because I was on the fense about it. Thought saying if my younger brother was willing to I should be too." Bill said, almost apologetically. "Personally with Sirius' death, I think Remus has been coping by trying to be both James and Sirius. "

Fred shook his head, but thought of it for a moment and though that maybe there was some truth in Bill's theory. "Can you tell me what your running letters about?"

"Mostly information about what's going on inside the bank," Bill said evenly, still playing with the base of the wand tucked in his collar. "They've appointed Pius Thickenese as the new Head of the Treasury, which has the Goblins livid. Usually whenever its time to make Treasury Appointments, a joint coalition of Goblins and Wizards vote on the candidates. Its always a Witch or Wizard—never Goblin, but in the past the ministry has always allowed that much of a concession, that they have a voice in which witch or wizard gets the top job."

"And this Thickenese character—is he a Death Eater?" Fred asked quietly as a group of joggers passed them.

"I don't think so, but he definitely has some Death Eater sympathies; very big on Wizard Superiority, won't be keen to cooperate and make concessions with the Goblins of Gringotts" Bill said. The had made it farther into the Park than Fred typically went. The large row boats that stayed in the Serpentine were absent from the stretch of water in front of them, and Bill kept going farther and farther in.

"I overheard Thickense talking to one of the Goblins on whether or not there was a way to identify muggleborn accounts," Bill said, and Fred noticed how he seemed to be struggling to keep his voice even.

"Why would they want to be able to—"

"Oh think Freddie," Bill quipped. "If they were able to do that, they'd be able to freeze accounts; if you can't get your money out of Gringotts, what are you going to do?"

"You aren't going to be able to take part in business," Fred responded, "Couldn't go to Diagon Alley, any magical shop—"

"You begin ostracizing them from the Magical Community," Bill nodded, "For the younger Muggleborns, it wouldn't be as bad. They'd have family on the outside that could help them. Or they could get a job. But for Muggleborns who have careers, who pay goes directly into the bank—"

"They'd have a harder time," Fred finished for him. He thought of Hermione. She'd be one of the lucky ones. Her parents would be able to help her. But her textbooks for next year—he could get those for her. Maybe he could work something out with Flourish and Blotts, they could get second hand books for returning Muggleborn students—he'd have to remember to talk to George about that.

"What did the goblin say?" Fred asked urgently, "To Thickenese, about the accounts?"

A smile split over Bill's face. "He said that Gringotts has never asked for the blood status of Witches, Wizards or Goblins when they came to open an account. And he seemed rather scandalized that Thickense would ask something like that."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over Fred. She's safe. "Do you think there's other ways they could identify the accounts?"

"They could try by how new the account is, but even that would be tricky. Not every family stays with the main account. I've split off the Weasley vault a long time ago. I'm sure you two have," Bill explained, "If they wanted to—if they really wanted to—I'm sure they could find away. Anyways—that and a bit more I can't share—that's whats headed to the Owl."

Fred nodded and the two stopped. There was a bench not too far that seemed to be calling them. Perhaps it was what they had just talked about—but the wave of relief had been fleeting and now all Fred seemed to be able to think about was what a war would mean for them all:For his brothers, for the shop—but mostly for Hermione.

She'd have two targets. One as a Muggleborn—a talented one for sure—but also as Harry Potter's best friend. She'd be one of their very first targets.

Does she know it yet? What they're plotting? If she did, she'd be trying to stop it. To delay it as long as she could. So long as she was at school, Fred wasn't afraid. As long as they had Dumbledore, they'd all be fine. Dumbeldore saw them through the last war, he'd be able to do this for the final war. Fred would keep a watch over her this summer and when she returned to Hogwarts next fall, regardless of what people did on the outside, she'd be safe in the castle.

"You know how to kill a spring morning Bill, I'll give you that,"Fred sighed, looking at the water through the trees.

"I could have swamped you with wedding plans. Either way you'd feel like this, " his brother laughed.

"Is that so?"

"Unless you really love her," Bill started, " Never propose to a Veela."

A smile cracked Fred's face. "Is that so? What does my darling Sister-in-law-to-be desire now?"

"She's still hoping to go to France for the ceremony, get married in the Veela Gardens of Versailles." Bill said shaking his head. "Apparently, when Louis built the Cheateau, his Chief Landscaper was a quarter Veela and went to work making the grounds as beautiful as possible, enriched with magical properties. Its modeled after their homeland—something or other. Fleur tends to speak more French than English when she talks about them—Anyway, there's a chance we can get in this summer when it's closed to the muggles for renovations. We go to Paris next month to look it over."

"Smart man would just elope when your there," Fred joked.

"That smart man would be killed by his mother and mother-in-law," Bill answered, "And probably his Bride who would think it the height of dishonor to be so selfish." The eldest Weasley sighed, looking over the waters again, "No, I'll go through the gardens and the traditions. No matter how grand and how annoyed the Wedding Party is."

"It's grown again?" Fred asked, remembering a comment from his mother a few weeks ago about how many names had already been submitted from Fleur.

"Every time she talks about the wedding it gets grander and larger—Gabrielle, Ginny, her friends from Beauxbatons. Latest head count she added in Hermione and wants to know if I thought Harry would be better served as an usher or Groomsmen. I'm convinced if she had it her way we wouldn't have any guests at all because they'd all be in the bridal party one way or another."

He thought about Hermione coming towards him in a golden dress. How it would reflect in her dark brown eyes and for the slight set moment he wondered if Fleur or his mother would put him in a full body bind curse if he started snogging her during the processional.

"Oh just cut Hermione and I from the party. You'll need some people to throw rice when you walk down the aisle," Fred suggested, leaning back into the bench. He noticed Bill raise an eyebrow and look at Fred knowingly. "Just you and Granger eh?"

He had said too much. Shown too much of his hand in this comfort of a brotherly chat. " We, er—can you keep that to yourself?"

Bill laughed, clapping his hand on Fred's shoulder. "Ginny dropped a hint to Charlie in a letter and he wrote me the other day asking if I knew anything."

"Ginny knows?" Fred asked flabbergasted. He had supposed, but now it was confirmed. His sister was well on her way to being a meddlesome to him as he and George had been with her. Bill was still smiling as he shrugged, "Don't worry, mum and Ron don't have the foggiest idea yet."

((*))

The sunshine was sneaking through her bedroom window, its gentle rays coming down and skimming the top of the white duvlet as though the rising was breaking through a cloud.

Hermione's eyes opened and she found herself in the Burrow, in Ginny's room. Ginny's side of the bed was already tucked in. If she closed her eyes and strained her ears, she thought she could her Ginny laughing in the orchard and the Quaffle being passed between her and Harry.

Slowly Hermione got out of bed, and grabbed a blue dress robe. Peering out the window, she tried to see the pair in the sun, but she couldn't. It was too sunny and they were right in the line of the morning rays. She watched the rest of the garden starting to wake up. A few gnomes were wrestling over one of Mr Weasley's muggle yard depictions of themselves. Mrs. Weasley's daffodils seemed to be catching in the rays of the sun and were beaming their own rays against the willow tree. She could see the top of the magical marquee in the distance, a golden standard blowing in the wind.

And then there were two arms that snaked around her side. She jumped and looked up to see Fred, his red hair like fire in the morning sun, with a gleeful smile on his face. "Morning," he smiled, his voice deep and groggy.

"You gave me a heart attack," she said, her hand going from over heart to against his side in a forceful punch.

He pulled her closer and she could feel the bristles of his beard tickling the top of her head. "You've been doing that to my heart daily for almost a year now," he murmured. She could hear his heart beat. It was a steady rhythm with the occasional addition from the field. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus on his heartbeat. Wondering if what she was doing would prolong it or if it was doomed to numbered beats.

"Think he'll end up with her in the end?" Fred asked. Hermione opened her eyes and tried to squint through the rays. "Ginny and Harry?" Hermione asked, "I—of course they will, you know that—"

"I think she's up for the idea still, but He's going to learn the hard way, a Weasley woman waits for no man—" he tutted.

Hermione's own heart seemed to skip a beat.

"Come off it—they got together" and she wanted to add "Didn't they?" but she held back. She felt the arms around her lax and she turned to face what was now a dumbstruck Fred.

"Harry and my sister? But when? Is she cheating on Dean?" His voice was strained now, "I mean I don't really care for the bloke but he seems decent—does he know? He gets here today for the wedding—"

"But—they broke up—"

"Yes, they did," Fred said, running his hand through his hair, in an characterized, almost scandalized fashion, "But they got back together—don't you remember? At the Quidditch final? Hermione—are you having a relapse?" His hand soothingly brushing her hair back, "Love, what year is it?"

"What?" Hermione asked, "What are you talking about?"

This time when he asked again, Hermione saw it, a gash of blood trickling down his head from above his hairline. His eyes empty and his touch cold, "Hermione-what have you done?"

Hermione woke up so quickly, she nearly leapt out of bed.

"Easy their Hermione, no exams today, you're alright," Parvati soothed. She was in a Quidditch Scarf and had added some red and gold streaks into her hair. In fact, it looked like she was already dressed and ready to go to the game.

The game that hadn't happened yet.

It was just a dream—nothing more—

But it seemed like a warning that was screaming at her.

"No, no exam, just the match," Hermione said, pulling out some jeans and a red and gold top from her wardrobe. "Must have overslept—how long until it starts?"

Parvati looked at her watch, "About half an hour—I didn't see you at breakfast so I came in to make sure you were alright—but if Lavender asks I'm just putting my scarf away. It's too warm out for a scarf."

Hermione nodded, appreciating Parvati's gesture. "Half hour? I was supposed to meet Harry, we were going to go down and watch the match together."

"I passed him on my way up, he was all dressed and said he'd see me after the match, he had to get something from his dorm."

And then everything inside Hermione went cold.

"He had to get something?" she seethed. He had promised her. Said no Felix. None. And he had gone up and got it when she hadn't met him.

"Yeah—"Parvati was looking at her as though she was regretting her gesture of friendship to come and check on Hermione. "Anyway, we best hurry—Game's going to start—"

Hermione was out the door before Parvati finished her sentence.

She stormed down the stairs, rightly smacking into Lavender Brown who got up looking annoyed and disgusted as though it was an intentional incident. Pursuing with a mumbled apology, she nearly tripped over herself getting through the portrait whole and actually tripped over Crookshanks coming back into the Common Room.

The Halls were empty and when she reached the ground floor she could see the Great Hall was also a wasteland. A booming voice from the front doors told her that Parvati had underestimated the time. The match was well on its course and she was too late. Harry was there.

She hated herself for this. Absolutely hated herself. She wondered who would die now because she thought it would be better if Draco Malfoy didn't go through the Prince's Jinx. Which of her friends would be the first to find their blood on her hands?

She started running down the front walk towards the Quidditch Pitch. She was going to kill him. Horcrux be damned. She was going to kill him. Stab him with a basilks fang, kill the Horcrux and the traitorous, lying, philandering boy who lived.

She couldn't hear his name being carried by the announcer. Instead, Luna was humming Weasley is our King while Professor McGonangall's unofficial commentary was going on behind them, the score lost when the stadium let out in a scream that shook the towers.

She was too late. Harry had won. Or someone had won. Perhaps her meddling had given Ravenclaw the win. But as she raced up the stairs, she clung to the railings and couldn't find Harry in the sky. Ginny was raising the snitch in the sky as her team mates flew to her and the Gryffindors sang on. Seven players, but their Captain missing-but not quite-

He had been there. Watching from the door frame the team would have flown out of. Hermione strained her eyes, but she could see him waving his arms, jumping up and down like a mad man in his Quidditch Robes.

He didn't take the potion, Hermione thought relief washing over her as he took his broom and flew to his team, huddled together at the base of the pitch where Dumbledore and McGonagall stood waiting with the cup. He just wanted to be down here to watch the game, to be with them.

Ron was shaking hands with Professor Dumbledore as McGonagal dried her eyes on a red and gold handkerchief as Ginny raised the cup in the air, the Gryiffindors cheering with the team all the while. Harry joined them and the crowd cheered all the more as he lifted up. He looked from the cup to Ginny and, passing it now to Katie and Hermione watched as he took a step forward and kissed Ginny full on the mouth.

Hermione smiled as her thoughts were drowned out in the crowd. The possibilities of several sunlit days seemed to be sealed in the sunbeams falling on them.

For the slightest moment, Hermione thought that perhaps Harry and Ginny coming together was a fixed point too.

And, she as though like a prayer, perhaps she and Fred could run into those sunlit days too.

AN: I've had this sitting on my desktop 2/3rds the way done now for a while and, given the long weekend, wanted to get it finished up. That being said I didn't read through in editing as often as I typically do so please forgive me!

First off, you guys are amazing. Seriously, I adore your reviews and the little insights you give. You've helped shape this story in so many ways.

In Review:

-Our dear girl is again going through her Survivor's Guilt in regards to Draco, Harry and what could have been. Again, we'll address the after effects of that in the next few Chapters.

-Some Brotherly moments between Fred and Bill. Haven't had enough of those two yet and that relationship is going to be very important as we get into the war.

I know I said last chapter we'd have a couple more at Hogwarts. I'm going to try and stick to that, but give me some leeway...did another reread of the series this summer and there were some things I'd forgotten. Next Chapter will skim some of the sunlit days, Ron ambushing Hermione into a conversation she's been dreading and a scroll arrives as Hermione realizes she's about to loose her only confidant this side of time.

I'll try and update sooner than last time. Hang in there and remember to be kind to one another. -KH