AN: 399 Reviews to you Glen Co-Co? I saw the stat update in my email this morning and decided I had to push this out. Thank you for all the love and support y'all.

Falling Surprises

"Where did you get the idea for this?" Hermione asked after dinner. The lasagna had been tucked away into a container in the fridge. She and Fred stood next to the kitchen sink, the dishes rinsing themselves as large bubbles Fred had charmed rose from the steam. Merrily popping above their heads as they hit the ceiling.

"What—dinner?" he shrugged blowing a bubble higher over head before it popped against the light. "I wanted to surprise you," he answered, almost sheepishly. "I figured dinner would be a good surprise. Besides, if I had shown up on the platform I think you'd have to break up for real because the family would have known and I couldn't risk that."

She flicked her wand and a mound of soap suds flew to Fred's nose. When she looked up it looked as though he was sporting a bubbly mustache. It wasn't the handlebar Ron had made in Transfiguration, but one of those full ones that turned up right like in an Edwardian photograph.

He placed his hand to his wand in a moment a mountain of bubbles had rearranged themselves on Hermione's heads fashioned as a crown, interrupting her laugh. "Are you trying to make me a jester?" she asked looking into her reflection against the window pane.

"No, every court has its jester and that's me," he said firmly, tucking a hair behind her ear. "No, every court needs a queen, and mine is you," he said with a wink and quick bow. She caught him as he rose again, this time putting her arm around his neck as her other hand wiped away the bubble mustache, "I don't need a jester or a crown. I just need a you."

She could feel his lips press on her forehead and Hermione felt complete. In that moment it was as though the war had ended and she and Fred had entered into a domestic bliss where their only foe was dishes and soap, that there really wasn't any danger to be had. There were no hunts or horcruxes left to endure. No more hallows or heartaches. There was just the question over what time they should have their tea and tuck in for the night.

"I'd say we've snogged in the kitchen enough, shouldn't we give the rest of the house a try?" Fred said with a mischievous wink. "Come on, show me the rest of your house. You've seen every inch of the Burrow." His hand seemed to find hers as he motioned to the door,"I want to see the house that made you."

"It's not like the Burrow," she sighed, as they walked down the hallway. She looked at the photographs. When she had performed the charm on her parents memories, she had erased herself from them. Now where her grade school portraits had hung was a mosaic of photo backing. There were pictures of her parents in odd poses because, in another world, they had been posing with her. She finally found one of her parents when they were recently married at the ski lodge.

"That's mum and dad," she nodded her head to the photo. "Their first Christmas married. They're avid skiers, he had proposed at that lodge the Christmas before. We were just there-" she almost said last Christmas when she stopped herself. We were just there two Christmases from now. In the future.

Fred had missed her fumble and instead focused the photo closely and then back at her. "You look a lot like your mum," he said with a smile, as he again looked at the photograph, now focusing on her dad, "Except you have your dad's smile."

"He has buck teeth too. Only he didn't have the courtesy of Draco Malfoy to magic them right," she sighed, rolling her eyes as they entered the sitting room. It was adjoined to the dining room next to the kitchen. A collection of family knicknacks Hermione had felt would be better kept in the house then sent to Australia. The Little China Figures her mum collected, now under a layer of dust in their cabinet. Her Granny Granger's gramophone they had inherited when Gran had died. Her father's photo albums and spoon collection.

"Do you play the piano?" he asked, motioning towards the upright behind the sofa that was cloaked in a white sheet.

"No, Granny Granger paid for lessons but I felt it interfered with my Latin Lessons so I only did it for a year," she said, looking at Piano.

"We couldn't afford music lessons," Fred said simply, "And honestly, musicians aren't big in the Wizarding World, not unless your Celestine Wies-whatever. All you really need to know if the right charm and—"he waved his wand again toward the piano and a ragtime started echoing from under the drapes "—Vwala!"

"Where was that charm when I was 10 and had to perform at Granny's recital?" she laughed, caught off guard as he took her in his arms and then spun her as though they were at the Yule Ball. She hadn't been expecting that and nearly flew into the china cabinet as Fred spun her out a second time.

"Sorry," Fred apologized and the music died, "Here let me try not to break your parents house."

"No. No it's fine, It feels good to have some more voices in here. I wasn't looking forward to being alone."

His hand found hers again,guiding her now to the couch. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," he said with a sigh, this time sitting down, ruffling his hair at the back of his neck. "Hermione, I don't want you staying here."

You shouldn't have told him you didn't want to be here alone, she scolded herself as she shifted in her seat. "Fred—I'll be perfectly alright here."

"No you won't," he said as though it was a matter of fact. "Or maybe you will be. I don't know. But if it's going to get as bleak as you feel it is, that means it won't be safe for you to be by yourself at home. They'll expect for you to be here. This will be the first place they'll look for you."

"And what, I should kick George out of his room and just shack up with you two?"

"Don't be silly," Fred said, "I'll kick George out of his room and you can shack up with us two."

She had to suppress a chuckle and keep her face straight. "Fred, wouldn't it look suspicious if I suddenly became a familiar fixture of the shop?"

"Summer job," Fred answered quickly. He had definitely put thought into this. "You're our research and development intern. Lost a bet and are now doomed to a summer of coming up with the latest and greatest in mischief mayhem just in time for your seventh year."

"No," she folded her arms. "We'd be asking for trouble. We could hardly tell Harry Ginny and the rest we broke up but that I'm also working for you and George."

Hermione hadn't seen Fred look this annoyed in sometime. His brows were knit together and his lips folded in a straight line. "Fine," he agreed. "Fine. But that means we have to accept Plan B." He rose from the couch and made his way to the staircase. "Where's the guest bedroom?"

The What —

"Fred, you can't be serious—"

"I am a jokester by trade Hermione there's only a few things I don't joke about" he started walking up the stairs and then turned around to look at her, "Your safety is one of them. So if you aren't going to move in to the flat, I'm going to take up residence in your guest room."

She started following him up the stairs, chundering under her breath. He had turned to the right at the stairs top and was now opening doors and looking in.

"I don't need a babysitter," Hermione said ruefully, "I am a grown witch and I can take care of myself Fred Weasley."

"I know you can, but we can kill more Death Eaters if we have each others backs," He said simply, stopping his search for rooms. "Hermione, I—"

"You're being ridiculous," she interrupted. "It's going to look funny when you show up at the shop every morning? What's going to happen when people start thinking your doing a daily walk of shame Fred?"

"Walk of?"

"Forget it," Hermione brushed it off, her cheeks blushing scarlet, "The point of the matter is this. George needs you at the shop. I need to prepare for the hunt here. We can see each other on the weekends or something. I've faced him before, I can face him again. "

"But you didn't face him alone," Fred blurted out, almost exasperated at her stubbornness. "It's not been just Hermione vs. You-Know-Who, no, it was you and Harry—and Ron, Ginny the lot of others. I am not willing to lose you because you thought you could take on the entire horde of Death Eaters and You-Know-Who by yourself."

It was the second time in as many days Hermione sensed the amount of power Fred had given her over him. She felt like she could have told him then and there to go find the horcruxes and he'd wake up to the locket, cup, and diadem on her mother's table with a fresh made breakfast sitting next to them like they were a misplaced centerpiece.

She took a step closer to him and took his hand. "You apparate out of the house and back to the flat—to your room in the flat—every morning by eight o'clock." She gently squeezed his hand and looked up at his eyes as she continued, "You are not to Apparate back here until the shop closes. And again, directly from your room. If George or Lee asks you to go out, you're not to brush them off. Just let me know so I don't worry about you."

"Alright," he said, squeezing her hand. "Anything else?"

"Yes, this," she said and then she pirched herself of her tip toes and kissed him soundly on lips.

She seemed to have lost balance because they stumbled into the room behind Fred, but she didn't notice that. She did notice how she could feel currents under her finger tips. How Fred's hands on her sides seemed to be hot like fire, brush against the small of her back. They continued to stumble through the room and Hermione felt the window seat against her legs and she fell back, bringing Fred with her.

"I accept your terms," he said, murmuring the words right below her ear. He shifted to where they both fit, rather snuggly, side by side on the windows bench. "Tough proposal, but I accept."

It was her turn to laugh and she now placed her hands to where they framed his face, "This isn't going to happen every night Fred. Get that idea out of your head right now."

His hands now held her wrists in place, still supporting his head, a goofy, familiar smile lighting up his face. "Course not. Not from a respectable woman like yourself." He leaned in to kiss her again, "But just for curiosity's sake, should I hope for every other night or maybe weekly?"

She took a pillow from behind her and shoved in his face. She could hear his laugh and feel it shaking them both. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Everything seemed just right.

((*))

She stood outside of Privet Drive.

She had only been to Harry's house this one time, when they had come to pick him up. When she turned to her sides he saw Ron on her left while Fred stood on her right. She seemed to be a brick wall between the brothers as neither greeted or acknowledged each other, but were merrily going on trying to have a conversation with her at the same time.

"I was thinking, d'you think the Death Eaters know about the Horcruxes? Maybe he had an inner circle who protects them?"

"Georgie and I have the radio finished. We'll move it to your parents house after we get Harry squared away."

At least that's what she thought they were saying. It was hard to distinguish who was actually saying what. Both of them talking at the same time in a low and lovely whisper made it sound like George and Fred had finished the horcruxes and an inner circle would soon be coming in to protect Harry straight away.

At least that last bit was right. An inner circle was definitely coming in and to protect Harry.

She could see the others already on the porch. Mundungus Fletcher who kept turning around as though he wanted to flee, Mad Eye had his walking stick fixed on Dung's cloak keeping him in place. Bill and Fleur, his arm around her waist. Mr Weasley's hat was shadowed by Hagrid. Tonks and Remus were in the back and she could see Tonks take his hand with confidence as he turned to look at it just to be sure it was actually there.

That's when she felt something on her sides. She looked to her right and saw Fred had done the same, taking her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. His thumb casually brushed circles above hers. He didn't look at her, but she could see a calm, peaceful smile as they strode to the door to join the others.

She turned to her left and she saw Ron had done the same; Her hand was in his and she could feel his hand was warm, and tense. She wondered if he had looked around her, seen what Fred was doing and was now competing with his brother to show he was better. He gripped her hand tighter making it more uncomfortable.

"Fly with me?" They both asked at the same time. Hermione looked up to Ron, and then turned to Fred. His eyes were clear, piercing almost, like the ocean on a summer's day.

"What?" she asked, her voice sounded clumsy by comparison, "You know we're already flying with Kingsley and your dad.

His brow knit together, "No, Kings couldn't make it tonight. The Muggle PM needed him. I'm going to volunteer to take his spot. Fly with me."

The words were echoed behind her and she saw Ron was saying the same thing to her.

"No, I'm flying with Kingsley, you're flying with Tonks," she said firmly to Ron before turning back to Fred, "And you're flying with your dad."

All of a sudden, George was in front of them holding earmuffs, passing them to the awkward trio.

"Here, they cleared development this morning. Extra bit of protection when we're up there so the cold doesn't nip our ears." He put one snuggly on Ron's head and then on Fred's. He turned to Hermione and smiled; but there was something odd, something different about that smile. It was dark. It made her feel uncomfortable, as though something was exposed. Something was wrong.

"It'll keep their ears safe, but might limit their ability to hear up in the sky. Especially when the Death Eaters come," George continued, giving her a hat of her own. Unlike with his brothers, he put it in her hands and not on her head, "It'll muffle what they hear. It'll keep them safe, that's true. But they won't be tipped off hearing a spell that's rushing at them. They'll be sitting ducks."

"Good thing we don't have to worry about that," Hermione said, putting on a strong face. She squeezed Fred's hand and looked on at George, " Death Eaters don't know our plans."

"Do you really think so Hermione?" George asked, raising his eyebrow as now lifted his earmuffs. A gaping hole, oozing with blood that now tapered down his neck, staining his collar now appeared, "Do you really think you can stop this from happening?"

Her hands fell empty and a crash of Thunder rippled over head. Hermione looked first to see Ron. His face twisted in a rage.

You and Fred? You were canoodling with my brother the entire time I was trying to prove myself to you? Prove that I really loved you? Was this some sick revenge for Lavender? I should have never—he looked at her coldly and then spat at her feet, See you in Hell—and a flash of Lightning and a sudden pop took him from her sight.

"RON!" She called out in the summer storm. They weren't on Privet Drive anymore. But outside the seventh floor landing. The thunder had been replaced with the sound of spells in the corridor, crashes of armor.

Hermione went to grasp Fred's hand but that's when she noticed it was gone. She turned to see where he was standing and he was dueling with Percy, the two of them dueling the Faux Minister and another. A spell aimed high knocked loose some stones and Hermione knew what was about to happen.

"FRED!" she bellowed out, breaking into a run, pushing her way through the crowd until she was with him, under the wall as it fell down on them both.

Thunder shook the room as she jumped from her bed. Her heart racing out of her chest like hummingbirds wings. She put her hand to head and looked around trying to place herself.

She was sleeping in her room in Essex. There was a storm, but it was just a weather one, safely outside. They weren't going to Harry's for a few weeks yet, Ron didn't know anything about Fred, Fred and Percy weren't on speaking terms yet and George Weasley still had two, somewhat lopsided ears.

It was the same mantra she had told herself two weeks ago when the nightmare started. They came the first night that Fred stayed in the guest room. At first, she thought it was she had fallen asleep thinking of what was coming. Or perhaps it was because she and Fred had just argued over each others personal safety

But the dream had kept recurring. Sometimes the same every night, others slight variations. Sometimes Ron would call her worst things. Sometimes Fred could hear Ron and would duel him on the spot. But it always ended the same. Ron leaving and Fred falling under a wall of stone as George looked on, his ear ridden head trickling a stream of blood as his empty eyes looked on.

Do you really think you can stop this from Happening? He always asked. Sometimes he would throw someone else under a wall or falling under a spell. Sometimes it was Colin Creevy. Other Times Neville. She had stopped reading the book before bed, but she couldn't stop the dreams.

You don't have the inner eye, she told herself after the third nightmare jarred her from her slumber. She had told herself as she walked to her parents bathroom and taken out some of the sleeping pills administering a dose to help put her in a sedated slumber.

You can stop this from Happening. She would chant before she went to bed. You know what's coming, she'd tell herself. You can stop anything and everything.

After all, that's why she had come back to Essex.

Slowly she got out of bed and put on her dressing gown. Her clock read 8:30 and that meant she had missed Fred leave for the day.

Their plan had gone off well these last couple weeks. As he agreed, Fred left early in the morning. Most days she would wake up early and see him off. She had introduced him to a bowl of morning Shreddies and after that he'd kiss her cheek and apparate to his room in the Joke Shop. Other mornings he'd leave before she woke up and she'd find a morning scone sitting on a plate with a lilac sitting on a tray outside her room.

The spell of domesticity still lingered. She spent the days going through her parents house, tucking up family heirlooms in the attic. She could remember how her father had complained about spending a small fortune to get their furniture shipped from Essex to Australia and back again. This time, it was different. This time when she sent them away, she had place in their heads the memory of the house burning down from a Christmas Tree fire and what the left with frow Norfolk was all they had. While she knew in a years time when she found them again her dad would be grateful for the money saved, she hadn't realized just how many things needed to be tucked away.

Her Mother's China figures had been the first to go up in the attic. Granny Granger's china, and her father's photo albums and spoons also found their place in a chest in the attic way. While the first week had been all about putting momentos upstairs, the second week had been about anticipating what would happen to the house when she left it.

Hermione wasn't sure what she expected the house to become. She like the idea of making it a safe house. Somewhere muggleborns could hide on their way out of the country. On one of her many trips to the attic, she had found a bunch of dental bags her parents had ordered for the clinic and she had made an assembly line to so at the very least those that found their way here would be greeted to a warm house and clean teeth.

This morning though she looked over her list. She had errands to run. She needed to go to the store and pick up some food that could be put in storage tins, some toilet paper and other things. Because as much as she meant her house to be turned into a safe house for people fleeing the country, she wanted it to be a safe house for Potterwatch, and she needed to think of a way of telling Fred that so it wouldn't cause suspicions.

She made her way downstairs, boxes marking their progress from the night before. When she entered the kitchen she saw it, waiting as it usually did when she missed him in the mornings: a blue bowl with the box of Shreddies and a note.

Heard you talking in the night and figured you needed to sleep in. Don't worry about dinner, I'll pick something up on my way home tonight.

Love, Fred

((*))

Fred focused his eyes on the little clock above the door.

They had put it up there as a gag, a little gimmick. It was supposed to mirror the hourglass of Slughorn's Hermione had told him about. It would slow down when the day was going well and speed up as the brothers anticipated the end of hours. But no matter how much Fred wished the time to flash by the minute hand seemed to crawl ever so slowly to its journey end.

He had gotten so use to spending time with Hermione that any time they weren't near each other seemed like a moment lost. He liked to think that was because he knew she would soon be disappearing with Harry and his bumbling brother and the thought of a prolonged separation was causing these feelings, but even that he didn't think was it.

The Alley had gotten darker of late. The Summer Crowds were absent. They had thought that there would have been more gaggles of school aged kids coming down for the holiday, but those crowds hadn't conjured the way the brothers had hoped. By no means were their books suffering, the Ministry Projects had given them a large cushion, but at the same time that cushion, Fred felt, was getting thin. At least, George was making it feel thin. He had mentioned the other night how he was relieved they hadn't bought Zonkos like they had originally planned last fall.

It wasn't the finances or the dimness of the alley that had churned his thoughts to Hermione. He liked knowing she was nearby. If not in the room with him, maybe up stairs or in the kitchen. Or pulling books from the shelfs of her father's study. He had helped her in there last night and he could still hear her chatting away on why it was only practical to give her parents Hogwarts a History in hopes to better explain her adventures to them at the end of her first term.

He had helped her in putting away many of the Granger antiques and oddities, but also brainstorming for things to come. She hadn't talked about her fears for Muggleborns should the Ministry fall since Dumbledore's funeral, but he had noticed she wasn't sleeping well. When he'd leave he poked his head into her room and could hear her muttering or fidgeting to and fro.

She needed a holiday, and he needed a chance to test his latest design, he thought. Absently tapping his work notebook as he did so. Earlier in the week as he made his way back from the Radio Shop in Chelsea, he had stopped at a little Muggle Travel Agency and picked up a few brochures of hidden Mediterranean Coves and clear blue sky. He had told the young agent he was looking to surprise his girlfriend with a vacation abroad and she had promised him a proposal when he returned to the shop at the weekend.

If everything went to plan, not only would his latest project prove to save lives, it would also allow them a chance to get away-for her to recharge before going on her trip.

He wasn't quite sure what he hoped to get out of the trip yet. Part of it wanted to be a weekend of happy memories. Or perhaps, it was the hope that she would realize they were better together and she'd let him come with her and the boys-or better yet, the hope that she'd keep the Granger House as her own safe house and they'd be able to solve whatever Puzzle Dumbledore had left them in under the safety of the Fidelius Charmed house in Essex.

"Any plans for the missus when you get off tonight?" George asked as the customers he had been helping skirted out of the shop, bags in tow. "Up for another lovely night of playing house?"

"Oi," Fred started, looking up from his notebook, "We're not playing house—We're—"

"You've moved into her guest room, you surprise her with the occasional breakfast, she makes up dinner when she knows you're coming in. What would you call it Freddie boy?"

"A Domestic Experiment," Fred said, turning his attention back to his work book.

George had been less than amused when Fred had divulged their plans. He said that it was rank with possibilities to malfunction and that all their attempts to keep secrets would only blow up in their faces and leave family and friends as collateral damage.

"At least your making progress on the Fall Line," George started. Fred didn't mean to flinch but the moment he did he instantly regretted it as he knew his brother had seen it.

"You are working on the Fall Line, aren't you Freddie?" his brother asked wearily.

"It—well it is something we'll need come Fall—if Hermione's right but—"

"If Hermione's right—" George repeated. His lips seemed to form a straight line and then he turned to Verity. "Verity, love, can you please mind the front, I need to discuss something with my brother."

"Righty-o Mr. Weasley," Verity nodded, giving a very sympathetic look to Fred. "Good Luck Mr. Weasley."

An invisible hand seemed to pinch Fred's ear and drag him to the backroom. The door thundered close and Fred waved his wand in a way to silence their conversation from wandering ears.

"What, pray tell," George started, hands on his hips and eyes closed in away that never had he more looked like their mother, sighed, "Are you working on if not the Fall Line?"

Fred snapped his fingers and his roll top desk opened and a Brown Leather Wallet flew to his hand. He handed it to his brother and folded his arms.

"Weasley's Wandering Wizards Wallet" he said in a matter-of-fact tone that echoed Hermione. "Simply insert a photograph to the passport and the magic will do the rest."

He looked to his brother and saw a dumbstruck look on his face, the words still attaching their meaning. "Listen, if Hermione's right, the muggleborns are going to need an exit strategy. Some of them are too young to apparate and they won't be able to use the floo's without being tracked. They'll need to get out the old fashioned way. So—" he opened the wallet and revealed a burgundy British Passport, a credit card and a transport ticket. "You put a photograph and it fills out the information for you. It's embedded with a Confounding charm so Muggle Custom agents won't know it's a fake—"

"You're breaking a half dozen muggle laws," George said, his voice flat, "And a dozen more Ministry Laws. How will the money cards work? And if the flight is full?"

"The card will go ahead and run the information of the last card used," Fred explained, "It's only going to be for small purchases really, if they are in a scrape. Their transport ticket will produce itself, the card can get them food or a room for the night if they're delayed."

"And where are you transporting them too?"

"Depends," he shrugged. "We have connections at Beauxbatons. Fleur is going to confirm everything with her old head at the wedding. If we can get them to Paris, Madam Maxine can get them to her school."

George looked at the open wallet skeptically,"Fred we run a joke shop, not a blackmarket,"

"We did both under Umbridge," Fred argued, "What's your problem with all this George, I thought you'd get it—that you'd be all for it. If you don't want to save lives why the bloody hell are we in the Order?"

George's face went from white to red in a matter of seconds, "I didn't have a problem joining the Order. I didn't have a problem with you becoming an Owl for Dumbledore, or with you tinkering with Lee's radio so we could pick up resistance station. I didn't even have a problem with you looking into how we could do a radio broadcast. But this?" He held up the wallet, "Fred, this could kill people. If it slips up, it could kill us—"

"But if we don't try how many Muggleborns will die?"

Fred picked up one of the instant cameras he had picked up from the Radio Shop in Chelsea a few days earlier, "Smile George," he said, clicking the button as a flash of light blinded his brother. He took the little strip and waved it before pasting the photo to the passport.

Instantly, black ink seaped up the spine and letters crawled like spiders until they formed words.

"Here you go, give it a look," Fred said, thrusting the wallet in his hands.

The longer the photo sat on the page, the more official it looked. It had a glossy shine similar to the photographs at Hermione's house. The background wasn't the shop work room but rather an official blue. George didn't look so much bewildered as he did bemused in the stationary photograph.

"Evan Granger," George read and then looked up at his brother, "This is Hermione's dad's information. Why—"

"When Hermione sent her parents abroad, she sent them abroad under false identities" Fred explained, leaning against the workbench. " If the Death Eaters were to pull up muggle transportation records, they would think they were still in the country. It won't take them long to realize what Hermione did and start looking—pending how desperate they get."

"So you created a way to make it look like they left the country—" he said evenly. "Where are you going to go?"

"Just a weekend get away—I—I told you Hermione was going to be on an adventure with the boys, I wanted to take her somewhere to relax before then. We'll take it as a trial run. See what needs to be tweaked. When we fly back, we'll make it look like her parents got on one of 10 different flights to places all over Europe and the Americas, each set for a different connection from there. You-Know-Who would have to have half of his Death Eaters searching the entire world for the Grangers and they'd never get close."

"Fine, so say you get this to work, Hermione's parents anyway. What about the kids? How are they going to know about this? What if there's a snitch?"

"We'll go through the DA coins, get the Gryffindor ones first. There has to be a way to do direct messaging—once I tell Hermione and we get her on it and it'll be foolproof—"

George looked at the passport again, his expression slowly shifting. "Alright," he muttered, "But we have to agree, the instant we start to lose control on this-we shut it down. We get the Order involved and we let them take over."

"Deal," Fred said before picking up the Passport and gently removing George's photograph.

"Have you told Hermione yet? About any of this?" he asked. Fred could feel his brother's eye on him and he knew he would know the answer before he said it.

"She knows I'm working on something, but I think right now she imagines our Order activities are limited to my OWL Service and the Radio Project."

"How is that going now?" George asked, "Lee keeps forgetting to ask you, by the time he remembers you've already gone to bed-"

"We're closer; I want to ask dad if we could bewitch some of the other radios," Fred explained, "One radio will be good but if we could get people to send out messages-"

"We'd have better transition waves," George started, "We could secure the line with a charm and wouldn't have to worry about just anyone being able to hack the line. I like this-" he finished, "Lee and I can work on this."

"Even with all the variables and chances for things to go wrong?" Fred asked skeptically.

George looked up at his brother and shrugged, " Only people that end up dead from this would be members of the Order. We knew what we were getting into," he said simply, "Not kids. I think the Wizard Wallets are a good idea Freddie-I just don't want them to go wrong and end up leaving kids lost abroad or exposed for Death Eaters." George turned the door and turned his head back to face Fred, "Last thing either of us want are to be responsible for kids dying-"

The backdoor suddenly began to jiggle as someone behind the door seemed to be in an attempt to rip it from its hinges. George immediately shut the work room door, instantly restoring the protective shield between the workroom and the store.

The jiggling stopped an Fred listened closely as a key slid into the lock.

Fred turned to his brother, and noted how his stance must have mirrored his own. Wands extended, body rigid, although he was moving towards the door with a stone carved face.

"Revelio" George muttered, brandishing his wand as they both watched the wood fade away and reveal Remus still fidgeting with the lock.

Fred felt as though they both breathed a sigh of relief. George's shoulders relaxed as he said behind the door, " Where did the Weasley family spend Christmas in 1995?" he asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Remus answered, "to be closer to your father at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies."

"It's him," Fred said, waving his wand and letting the door open for Remus.

"Next time wait for me to answer my question Fred," Remus nodded, looking at both of them with relief, "But all the same, thank you. Considering what I have to tell you, it's not wise to be loitering in back alleys."

"What's happened now?" Fred asked, trying to pick up on details from the old Professor's appearance. He looked Shabby as ever, but there was more color in his face. He didn't know how much of that was due to trying to enter their siege door and how much was attributed to Tonks. He'd prefer to think the later.

"There's been a mask break out," Remus answered gravely, running his hand through his hair. "I just heard it from Tonks. The Ministry isn't going to release the news to the Prophet out of fear it'd launch a panic."

"More like out of fear they'd have a rebellion on hand," Fred scoffed, " Who broke out?"

"Avery," Remus started, "Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy-Macnair and Bellatrix's husband-Dolohov," the name sat heavy in the air, "Everyone we caught at the Department of Mysteries, they're all loose."

George met Fred's eyes as Remus said Dolohov's name. The man who had taken their uncles and haunted their dreams when they were children. The man who had tried to take Hermione last year-

"If You-Know-Who is emptying Azkaban," George started, "It's because he's making a major push."

"Exactly. And now that Dumbledore's dead, the next logical move would be-"

"The Ministry," George finished, again, making eye contact with his brother. And if the Ministry-

"What is the Order doing about it?" Fred asked, "Do you need us to go on patrols? Are we going to try and track them? Round them up and put them back?"

Remus shook his head while he cast a dark smile towards Fred, "If they broke out the Death Eaters that had been locked up over the Department of Mysteries, it's safe to assume they cleaned the prison out of any and all sympathizers," he sighed. "If anything, it means the Dementors have turned and the Ministry has lost control of Azkaban."

"But there's a plan right?" George interjected, "You wouldn't come to use to tell us these things without a plan? Some curve ball we can throw at them? Someway we can stop them from infiltrating the Ministry?"

Remus shook his head, "Think of ways we can get Harry off of Privet Drive and to a safehouse without the Ministry knowing" he said sympathy. " We can't trust the Ministry anymore, the Order is going to have to be completely independent. Think of a way we can keep Harry safe and maybe brainstorm ways you can keep the Burrow safe through the wedding."

"We're seriously going to let the Death Eaters have the run of the field like this?" Fred interrupted, "Just let them have the Ministry?"

"Sometimes you have to hold back to gain more ground," Remus said, and in his tone Fred sensed endurance more than defeat. He had been most affected on the news of Dumbledore's death. He had been his Champion. He had always provided a steady hand that had tried to guide Remus and his friends-and now, Fred sensed in away, Remus was trying to be that guiding hand for them.

"I just wanted you to know," he breathed, leaning back against the work bench,"Because Moody is convinced we all need to be on high alert. Up our wards. Keep eyes on those that may be vulnerable. Seeing as you are all in the Alley and often have small children in your shop, I thought you would appreciate an advanced notice."

George nodded, looking at Remus and then his brother. "Thanks Remus, we appreciate it." he said simply. "Fred's working on a Fall Line for security purposes, we'll see if we can made some further additions."

Remus nodded as the clock tolled the hour. "It's getting late, i need to go-Dora and I-" a healthy bit of color danced on his face, "Have Duty tonight."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" George asked with a smirk as Fred held back a laugh.

"I'll see you as soon as I hear more," Remus said, the color rising to a flush. "Remember-Constant Vigilance," and in a sudden pop he was gone.

The two brothers stood in the workroom, the only sound between them the ticking of the clock. When they had first entered the room twenty minutes ago, Fred thought the only bombshell to be dropped was the Wizard Wallets. Then Remus had to come in and tell them that not only had the Ministry lost control of Azkaban and was no longer to be trusted, but Voldemort had a fully stacked deck with some of his most lethal Death Eaters back in his fold.

And some that would be anxious to prove themselves again with Muggleborn Blood on their hands.

George picked up the wallet and handed it to Fred. "Take the rest of the afternoon off. See if your travel plans can get moved up any."

"What-"

"If we can't trust the Ministry to keep Death Eaters in Azkaban, I don't think we can trust them to protect muggleborns from being attacked," George said simply. "Put up all the wards you can think of on the Granger Place. Take her on her holiday. I'll think of something for when you get back. But neither of you are staying alone in Essex with Dolohov and Malfoy on the loose. Go," he said again, looking at the door Remus had just exited from. " Go protect Granger."

((*))

The Clock chimed 10 in the front entrance.

Hermione waved her wand and three blue orbs emerged, bouncing up and down around her, casting an eerie light in the kitchen.

He should have been home hours ago. She had made herself a sandwich around 9 having been waiting for him to come back with dinner as planned. She had put up most of her daily wards, but she was worried something horrible was wrong and if he came in after she set up the night wards there was a good chance he'd get splinched coming up the walk.

In all of their planning, they hadn't spent any time discussing what they would do if the other went missing-either she not return from her daily errands or he from the shop. Should she send her patronus to George? Should she just wait for him or forget the patronus and go straight to the shop and see if somethings the matter.

A hum radiated from the walls, one of the wards had been triggered. The blue lights were now golden and her plans of leaving for the shop dissipated, her fears with it. Fred was home.

She flew down the stairs, not sure if she wanted to try her own version of the bat boggey hex or run at him with outstretched arms. The door clicked open as she ran down the stairs and turned down the hall to the kitchen where he had entered from.

"Where have you been?" she asked, the fear in voice masked with concern and mild, no, simmering irritation. "You said you'd be back when-"

He pulled her in his arms this time, holding her tightly and close, his head resting on hers. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry-I didn't think it would take this long to get everything squared away."

When Fred pulled apart she gave him a second look and saw how tired he looked. It was as though he had been absence for weeks and all of them without sleep. In his hand was a manila folder similar to the ones her parents had in their office.

"Got what squared away?" Hermione asked, looking at the folder suspiciously, "What's in the folder Fred?"

He collapsed into one of the chairs sitting at the table. "I wanted to surprise you, it was supposed to be for next weekend, but Remus came in today and told me there was a mass breakout from Azkaban and I had to move heaven and earth to make it happen-"

"There's been a mass break out?" Hermione looked at the calendar above her mother's spice rack and she tried to run through her catalog. Early July, Death Eater break out-had she forgotten that? "What is Remus doing about it?" she asked, pulling up a chair next to him and taking his hand, "What does he need us to do?"

She noticed how his lips twitched into an upward smile. "I knew you'd say something like that, so I asked him," he said, gingerly taking her hand and bounding it in his, "Unfortunately, he says Mad-Eye wants us to survive and avoid an offensive strike, so we're to lay low and not trust the Ministry anymore."

"Haven't trusted them in years," she said and gave his hand a squeeze. "So if we're laying low, why were you so late?"

"The Vacation-" he said again, looking down at the envelop and then back at her, "I'm sorry-I was going to build up to it all next week, drop hints, make it spontaneous-nothing like a prison break to take the breath out of romance, eh?"

"Trust me, this seems peanty spontaneous to me," she said, now looking at the folder and imagining it a well wrapped Christmas gift that was unexpected and also unnerving. It was really coming out of nowhere and she wondered if she'd be having these feelings if he had been able to go along with the plan as he intended.

"I remember you said your parents left under fake passports. I want to give the Death Eaters a cold trail to follow, just to give further insurance they won't go looking for your parents under false identities," He started, pulling out two brown wallets, both leather and long, as though it was to hold more than just the wallet. "I figured we'd make it look like your mum and dad had gone on holiday and never came back. That you would have sent them into hiding abroad."

He handed Hermione one of the wallets and she gingerly opened it up find a British Passport on the right side pocket. The Centerfold had an Essex Dental License and the slick shine of a new Master Card. The left pocket had a British Airways ticket tucked in an envelope.

She first jumped to the Passport and found Fred's picture fixed behind the laminated sheet. A Watermark and Stamp from the Home Secretary granting him permission to travel with this passport. "But if you want my parents to leave-why is this you?"

His eyebrows peaked up and he smiled, "Give it a closer look."

When she did, the picture still showed Fred, looking very official in the photograph. But that wasn't what caught her eye. It was her father's scribbled scribbled below Fred's picture. In fact the only thing that didn't match on the page was Fred's photograph. Everything else was her father's information.

She did a second look at the credit card and again saw Evan John Granger stamped into the plastic. Instantly she reached out for the other book, going to open it when she saw the credit card blank of any name or numbers, the Passport just like it-a ticket missing from the airport pouch.

"What about mum?" she asked, her eyes wide, "We'll need to make it look like she got out as well-"

"I just need a picture," Fred said, pulling a polaroid camera out. "Smile-"

She doubted it was a smile but more a grimace."Fred-that's a polaroid camera-"

"And this is the latest prototype for the Weasley Wandering Wizard's Wallet," he said, as he waved his wand and the photograph sealed itself to the book. Hermione noticed how it seemed to contract to the proper size. A plastic covering sealing the information as letters fed up the spine and into their spot. Hermione looked at the plastic credit card that now read Caroline Jean Granger as though its owner had never been doubted before.

"This is extraordinary," Hermione said looking at the card, "Illegal, but extraordinary magic."

He nodded his head and looked at her, "Is it really illegal if it's right?"

"You sound like Sirius Black when we first talked to him about the DA," Hermione answered fondly. Her fingers now glanced to the airway ticket. She gingerly slipped it out of its case and looked over it.

"Fred, this is for a flight this Friday. Two days from now," she said her voice panicked. "I have too much to do-we need to-"

"I'll help you finish in the morning, George has given me the time off-he agrees, if the Ministry has lost control over Azkaban and that lots on the loose, we don't think it's a good idea to have you alone in this house-"

"Fred-this is too much-"

"Consider it your Birthday Gift," Fred sighed, "and mine too. I want to take you somewhere you can relax. Where you are not having to worry about food supplies and bed linens. Besides," he yawned-the tiredness creeping back to him, "Its a field run for the Wandering Wallets. If we get these to work right, we can see about using them to get muggle borns out of the country."

THe words clicked instantaneously and Hermione snapped her attention toward him.

"Really?"

"Fleur needs to finalize everything with Madam Maxine but it sounds like if we can get them to France, she can get them to her school."

Colin-Dennis-Nigel-she thought, of those name and so many more she could get smuggled out of the country and into France. "So," he asked, sensing that he had won with this logic, "Don't you want to know where the dear Travel Agent found us tickets to?"

She smiled and turned from him back to her mother's ticket. In Red letters read Mallorca Airport.

"Palma de Mallorca?" Hermione asked excitedly, "Are we really?"

"Tried to talk me into a weekend in Calais but when I saw the pictures of the island and I knew that was the spot," he said grinned taking her hand and kissing it with a squeeze. "A few days there, and then we'll come back all nice and refreshed to liberate Harry from his aunt and uncle. But first-" he said, noting how her face seemed to have frozen at the mention of Privet Drive, "A weekend in the Mediterranean where its just you, and me, and no one who knows anything about Fred and Hermione."

AN:

To be honest, this isn't as clean an edit as I'd normally put out, but...

Again, I really enjoyed writing this (relationships! danger! stubborn headed lovers! the works!)chapter; yes, there was a good bit of fluff, but I also loved getting to add in the Weasley Wandering Wizard Wallets...I know the idea may feel rushed, but I've been bouncing it off my friends for the last few months now and I think I have all the plot developed for that... more to come on it in coming chapters.

Coming Next Chapter: Fred and Hermione enjoy a few long needed days in Palma de Mallorca (google it. I found it when researching and I love it). While they enjoy a few days to unwind and relax under the Spanish Sun, can they really escape the shadows that lurk from England? As George and Remus keep tabs on the developing situation, are any of them really as safe as they would like to believe?

I'm always self conscious when it comes to longer chapters, so let me know what you think...

This will be my last update of 2017; Chapter 34 has been outlined and will be fleshed out in the next week or two. So whether you have been with this story from the beginning or today is your first reading, here's to another year that is kinder, a year that is better, a year full of happy memories for you and yours.

Happy Holidays and a special New Years too You.

After all, Tomorrow will be kinder,

Cheers, KH