Falling Words

The next forty-eight hours came about as a complete blur.

The morning after Fred showed her the Wandering Wallets, they created a list of items still needed for the house and divided up what needed to be done. They both went to the market to pick up some of the heavier bulk foods Hermione hadn't been able to pick up in her bag discreetly. George arrived at lunch with the tent they had used at the Quidditch World Cup and was perplexed to see Hermione take it upon his arrival and instantly start setting it up in the living room.

"Are you guys going on an indoor camping adventure? Is that the best the Muggle Travel Agent could do" He asked with a raised eyebrow, looking at Fred and attempting to whisper, "Is she alright?"

" I just want to air it out while we're gone," Hermione answered from within the tent, "It'll be too musty if we don't do this. I'll just leave some cinnamon sprigs in here . That way it won't smell like an old Quidditch Pitch and your dad's shed when we start. Trust me, you can't shake that smell overnight."

George hadn't looked convinced, but he smiled and nodded towards Hermione while giving his brother a look to express his concern over her sanity, "Where is she going?"

Hermione noticed George asking questions like this. Discreetly at first and then more direct and apparent. She was starting to realize just how much Fred had kept from his twin, and supposed this was an unnatural, uncomfortable phenomenon for them both. George didn't know she and the others were planning on taking the tent on their mission-he had assumed that they'd be staying at this house as a safe house. When she started riddling off the food supplies when she finished sealing the rice canisters George again got a silencing look from Fred letting her know that George didn't know about Hermione's intended purpose for the Granger's House.

And if he didn't know that, what Hermione was going to show them next would take the prize.

As the three of them finished lunch, Hermione took them up to her room where she showed them a large table she had set up at the foot of her bed, three stools set around it. "I want you to use this house for your radio broadcasts," she said simply, her arms folded as though she expected an argument. She held her best Molly Weasley pose and stared down George. "A safe house for you to run and produce your broadcasts, as well as a place for Muggleborns before the Wallets can get them out to France."

"Hermione, we'll be fine-we can run the show from the shop-"Fred began. Despite everything she had told him, everything that she was trying to warn him about, he was still insistent that she and the boys use the house. That might have to do with the fact she was airing out a tent in her mother's living room, but when they had discussed their mission, Fred did not like the thought of Hermione wandering in the elements.

"We're not going to be able to cover enough ground if we're constantly apparating from Essex. Eventually we'd get sloppy and they'd catch us. We need to be out of inquiring eyes, we need to be mobile," Hermione said simply, "You, however, need somewhere safe where you can make your broadcasts."

"Which we can do from the back room in the shop-" George started, taking a cue from his brother whose ears were starting to resemble Ron's.

"Once the Death Eaters realize there's a broadcast from the Order, they're going to want to track it," she said firmly. She noticed how Fred's eyes seemed to darken when she spoke about the war. It was as if the conviction behind her words cast the storm, leaving him the unwilling soldier receiving instructions from his General on how best to prepare. "You're going to run into the problem of picking up listeners-interrupt a frequency on one of the main Wizarding Wireless networks, telling those loyal to Dumbledore and Harry to turn to the Archangel Network; At the end of the first broadcast give a password for the future broadcast and keep changing it. It'll make it more difficult for them to trace the broadcast."

"But won't it make it difficult for people to pick it up? If we keep changing?" George asked looking at the table and then Hermione. Fred may have made up his mind, but Hermione knew George would listen to the part of reason connected to their safety and survival."Or are you thinking-"

"Remember when they banned the Quibbler your Seventh Year?" she asked, "The instant they start going after people who are going to speak out, those passwords are going to become gold-people won't want to miss a broadcast. If anything, giving a password will make it to where people will be tuning in every night just looking for hope."

"Ok, let's go back to what you said about tracking," Fred interrupted, furrowing his brow, " They'll end up tracking it here. To a muggleborn safe house full of innocent kids trying to get to the continent. Won't that cause a crossfire? Diagon Alley's already a battlefield, minimize the risk, we keep it at the shop."

"Don't be silly," she snipped, her voice harder than she intended it to be. "The shop is the only thing that still brings people to the Alley. You risk the shop you're putting customers in danger and you wouldn't do that." She took a step towards Fred, "You know the protection I put on this house. It already has the trifecta-Protego Maxima-Finanto Duri-Repello Inimicum-we have the anti-apparition jinxes up when all three of us are here. We're only missing the Fidelius Charm-" her eyes flicked to George, " I want you as Secret Keepers. Both of you." Her eyes returned and locked on Fred, " If you're going to be doing the wallets, you ought to be able to let them in. It'll give them that much more protection."

The storms in Fred's eyes were growing, she half expected lightning. She noticed how his jaw looked as though it was hard cut marble. He didn't like this. She knew that. But she also knew that Fred and George were the only hope Muggleborns would have at getting out of the country.

And for some, that meant they were the only hope from a grassy grave on Hogwarts' Hills.

"Alright," George said, breaking Fred and Hermione's silent argument. "Come on Freddie. You know she's right."

Fred looked to George and nodded, "Alright," he responded simply, turning back to Hermione. "Alright."

"You're sure?" Hermione asked George.

"We'll be running the wallets and broadcast. It makes sense to have a safehouse for an operation like that. We can hardly keep our illegal contraband in the back-We can have the kids come to the shop and hide them there until we can get them here and then out of the country. Besides, they're bound to suspect we'll be supporting the Order one way or another," George shrugged, looking from one to the other, " I mean, never was there a bigger blood traitor family than the Weasleys. Factor in Gideon and Fabian-we're legacies. They'll be looking for an excuse to strip the shop from top to bottom. It could complicate things if they found the wallets or radio set. Let alone Muggleborns sleeping in the loft."

All of their eyes seem to fall on the empty table top as though each imagined what someday would be there.

"So two secret keepers? Can you do that?" Fred asked, breaking the spell. "I've only heard one-"

"There can only be one, technically," Hermione said, looking up as well, "But I figured it was best to ask you both-"

"So you have a guaranteed yes?" George asked slyly.

"No," she said, " You guys are a pair. And I wanted to make sure you both were willing to go through with it because it affects both of you. I figured I'd make one of you Secret Keeper and you could tell the other."

The room seemed to grow still. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look at him. She was fidgeting with her wand, tapping it against the desk. Little burn marks like a cigarette appearing on the wood.

"So Freddie, you ready to tell me a secret?" George asked with a smirk, strolling over and sitting on her window seat.

"Actually George," Hermione interrupted, not even looking up, "I wanted to ask you."

Now two sets of eyes were resting on her, "Come again?"

"Fred's been running around as an owl," Hermione explained, looking up from the desk, "It's possible that the Death Eaters know this-or at the very least are suspicious. Especially as he was one of Dumbledore's owls. You've been more under the radar for the most part. I think they'd go after Fred before you and-"

"And you have a better head on your shoulders," Fred said simply. " Or rather one that's not as hot headed as my own. When he had first brought up the wallets to her, when Fred came home with the trip Hermione told him she wanted George to be the Secret Keeper. He was not fond of the thought of Hermione turning the house over for a radio post and hide away, but he agreed that George would be the better-if anything, more stable-choice.

In actuality, Hermione was doing it because of something George had said last time. After the War.

When you only have one ear, people don't think you listen much, he had told he in passing. On one of those Saturdays when she and Ron had come to help clean the shop before it was set to reopen. People think you have one ear, but they forget that one can be stronger than the two. They get careless in their conversations and you can pick up on secrets they'd rather you not know.

If her plan failed and he lost his ear, she wondered what he would exactly pick up. Maybe Muggleborns in danger, or perhaps something they could keep on the news.

Or Maybe something that would keep the two of them alive. Because if Hermione knew anything, George would risk the world to keep his brother alive. Even if that meant grabbing him from his bed in the middle of the night and apparating to Granger House.

Fred walked over to George and clasped his hand on his brother's shoulder. She could see a feigned smile on his face, "How does the spell work Hermione?"

"It's complicated," she said, sitting down on the window seat opposite of George."It's similar to an Unbreakable Vow. Where you bind Hands and I hold a wand to them. I ask you to keep the secret, and you respond with the affirmative 'Yes I will keep your secret'" to the secret itself and then if I ask anything else, you just say 'Yes I will.'"

"That doesn't sound too complicated," George said, bumping his shoulder to Hermione and then looking up to Fred "Other than the fact I have to hold my brother's girlfriend's hands and say yes to whatever she wants. Freddie, you're not going to deck me if I'm sworn to snog her, are you?"

Hermione smirked as she watched Fred roll his eyes, "Always the one for dramatics-"

"It gets complicated where the secret attaches itself to your magical core," Hermione interrupted, "Unlike an Unbreakable Vow, you can break this and live but if you did so, it could jeopardize your power as the charm could consider your magical integrity at a fault," Hermione explained. She noticed how George's smile seemed to fall ever so slightly, his own storm clouds appearing in his eyes. "Typically those that tell their secrets risk losing that spark. They can still do magic but it's not as binding because-"

"Because why should the magic bind if they can't keep their promises," George finished for her. He looked at Hermione for a moment, taking her hand before he turned to his brother. "Fred, go down into the garden and see the house disappear. You can let us know if it works."

"You want to do this now?" Hermione asked startled, "Don't you want to consider your options?"

"What is there to consider?" He asked, "You're going to ask me to keep this house safe for muggleborns, and I'm going to oblige. I've known you since you were eleven Hermione. I trust you."

"Should I stay?" Fred asked Hermione, "Or the garden-"

"If you could sit next door by the Garden gate-And see if this works?" she answered with a smile. They key to doing this successfully was to make him think that everything was going to be fine, even if she didn't have the foggiest if it would work.

"Alright, just be careful-" he said, turning to walk out of the room. He stopped half way out the door and turned back and said, his voice now rich with the usual, jovial Fred, "Do try not to mess with my Brother's Magical Core too much, I need it for business."

As Fred left the room and walked down the stairs Hermione felt George squeeze her hand. "If this can stay between the two of us," he started, sighing heavily and ruffling his hair similar to how Fred did when he was worried about something. " I think my dear brother is in need of this vacation just as much as you are."

She gave a weak smile "I think your right," she answered, watching Fred now exit the house and lean against the Winterton's tree next door, trying not to glance at her upstairs window.

"Are you sure you want me to be the Keeper?' George asked, noticing her gaze, "Don't get me wrong, I'll hold your secret and take it to my grave-but this seems almost intimate-something Fred's more cut out for than me."

She sighed before looking at George, dropping his hand. "When I'm away, I'm afraid he'll get restless-he'll start throwing himself into dangerous scenarios-you know him."

George smiled sadly and nodded, "I can see that. I think he's planning on that almost."

"I know neither of you would ever betray the Secret. But-he's right. I need the level headed twin. Not the loveable hot head," she said..

"Oi, the Level Headed twin can be lovable too,"George quipped indignantly.

"Oh give me your hand Casanova" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

She registered this time how his hand felt different than Fred's. Fred's had more callous. George's hand was smoother, except for the plaster bandage that must have been from a rogue Fanged Frisbee.

She took the wand in her right hand and pointed it towards their entwined hands. "Are you sure?"

"Yes I will keep your secret," he said with a childish wink.

Hermione stood tall and squared her shoulders. "Occulta Protegre" she said evenly and watched as a thin, gold string seemed to float around her and George's Hand, tracing over their fingertips and emanating a warm, hopeful glow.

"Will you Keep the Location of Granger House safe from those that would do its inhabitants harm?" she asked, watching as George's face transformed, the lines of his face sharp in the glow of the light.

"Yes I will keep your secret," he said, his voice serious now, like Fred's when he came home the night before. Like how it had been after the war. There was a ring of promise mixed in with the certainty that he would keep this secret.

"Will you do your best to protect those who claim sanctuary here?" She asked, watching as another gold string tied itself around their hands.

"Yes, I will."

"And-" her voice only faltered in this moment, his eyes locking on hers, "Will you do everything you can to ensure you and Fred escape unharmed should the secret be revealed?"

"Yes," and this time, she felt more than the golden rope tightening their embrace. She felt his hand squeezing hers, his thumb stroking her own hand as though trying to give her assurance, "I will."

She lowered her wand, and the gold rope seemed to linger only for a moment before it disappeared. In the most brotherly moment George had ever show her in either of her timelines, he pulled her close and hugged her against him. " I will keep him safe for you," He whispered against her ear, patting her hair, "I promise. For both of us."

((*))

They had planned on seeing George before they left for the airport but he was caught at the shop and unable to leave. So, in the drizzly early afternoon, they boarded the train for Essex, carefully scanning Mr and Mrs Granger's new credit cards for their train tickets.

"That way we'll know before we get to the airport if there's any issues," he had explained as he helped her into their carriage. Fred could tell Hermione was trying hard to keep the mood light. To make them seem like lovebirds who were off for a trip rather than how Fred knew they felt in that moment-two people running from danger.

He knew that they were both waiting for the Death Eaters to strike. To show how strong the breakout from Azkaban had made them. But in the days since no matter how hard Fred had scanned the Daily Prophet they hadn't so much made a sound or flexed a muscle. This morning as Hermione was putting together her bag for the twelth time, he noticed that a Professor had written an article on Muggleborns and how Muggles weren't the threat they were being made out to be-Fred had a feeling that this might prompt the to act sooner than later.

But he didn't want her to see that. He wanted her to see nothing but hope and ease. He tried to make more jokes as their train travelled on, the suburbs of Essex giving way to the sprawl of London. If she got too quiet he'd launch into a story from the shop, embellish the details to make it more than it had been, holding her hand and brushing his thumb against her knuckles as though such a touch could promise her that everything was fine and they were in for a weekend that would supply all the happy memories for the days to come.

They made it to the airport two hours before their flight. Hermione showed him how to check in and she took care of their luggage. Again, the ticket transactions went through perfectly and after exchanging pleasantries with the agents at the desk, they walked through security and into the terminal without any unwanted fanfare to a pretzel shop where they grabbed a snack before they waited for their turn at boarding.

Fred noticed how much more relaxed Hermione was on the other side of security than she had moments earlier. Her smile became more genuine, as though it was in that moment she was realizing that in a less than three hours they would almost be in Majorca. That they were really going to be going somewhere together where people didn't know their names and they'd be far out of the reach of danger.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder.

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "Nothing," he answered, "Besides thinking of how excited I am that we're leaving."

"It'll be nice," she agreed, "I have a feeling I'm not going to want this trip to end."

"We could stay you know; ask George to make it look like we were knocked off and just enjoy the war on the cove? Become Mediterranean Pirates?"

She swatted his unoccupied shoulder with her wallet, "Fat chance. You know you and I would go crazy if we abandoned them."

"True," he said, and she could imagine his smirk as he said, "But who knows, maybe we could like crazy. Just imagine it, you and me-a little house overlooking the sea-"

He noticed how she had a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and how the bottom lip curled in like she was thinking it over. Before she could answer, the muggle agent came over the system, rattling on something about zones for boarding.

Hermione picked up her bag, tugging his hand to follow her, "Come along then Redbeard."

"Ah, so that's a yes? Or a maybe?"

As they emerged from the tunnel Fred quickly realized he had made a horrible mistake. He thought that the tunnel would take them to a large plane with compartments similar to a train where he and Hermione could lounge out and enjoy the two and a half hour flight.

Instead, he realized the Muggle Travel Agent had seen they were doomed to die one way or another this summer and decided it best to be via the flying coffin that doubled as a sardine can.

"Here, take the window," Hermione smiled nudging her arm to the seat nearest a small window he could watch their fall from the heavens. "Hermione, these things are safe right?" He asked as they buckled their seats and the Flight Attendants began a well rehearsed dance with hands motioning forward and back and then clicking of the seat belts.

"Perfectly," she answered nonchalantly, although Fred noticed two elderly women in black gowns and habits cross themselves as the women finished their dance with the plastic cups. The plane lurched forward and he felt his pretzel lurtch with it.

"We should have put on an extendable charm for our seats," He said sadly, trying to tuck his legs in from the seats in front of them. "It's one thing we're going to die in this flying coffin, it's another we're going to be so uncomfortable while dying."

"Fred, you were a Beater at Hogwarts" she said, laughing at him. " You can't tell me you're afraid of flying."

"On a broom, no. I can keep myself in the air perfectly alright thank you very much. Free motion, control-sunshine and blue sky not a problem. But this," he looked round, "If the oxygen masks come down Hermione, grab my arm and keep your thoughts on my amazing good looks and we'll apparate to the bloody island. "

"Even better. It'll appear as my parents died in a plane crash. Well done," she laughed.

"Just promise me that if I die of splinching myself to get you to safety-you won't do something ridiculous like end up with Ron," he moaned, closing his eyes while trying to peak at Hermione for his reaction.

Instead, he felt her hand wrap around his arm and into his, "Standards, Fred. I've got some."

"Let George take care of you in my passing but don't move on to him either-Ange will kill you," he said trying to sit still as though pretending to be dead.

Hermione's laughter was not absent and her hand released his own.

"Fred-" she said, her voice now carrying a fleck of a warning.

"Honestly Charlie's probably the best after Bill-whatever you do, don't let them put me in a box-"

"Stop it," her voice was like ice now. She had withdrawn her touch completely and was now sitting with her arms folded tightly, "None of that, you hear me? You're not allowed to give me your last will and testament. Least of all concerning which of your brothers I can take up as a consolation prize." she mumbled something else that he couldn't quite understand before looking away in the direction of the two old women.

"Hey," he rested his hand on her knee, "I'm sorry-I was only joking," he tried. After a moment she turned to look back at him, her face knit as tight as her crossed arms.

"And?"

"And-I won't joke about even though its my livelihood?"

That had cracked the face, a smile returning, "And-" she said, again leaning on his shoulder. She paused. As though she was trying to figure out what she was going to and him about.

"And, you promise you'll never die," she said simply, tilting her head to where she was now looking up at him from her shoulder-pillow rest, "You're not allowed to leave me alone Fred Weasley, understand?"

"Wouldn't dream of it Granger," he replied , kissing the top of her head, "Never in a million years."

((*))

Where Hermione's job had been getting her and Fred out of the country, Fred's job was how to get to their hotel once they landed in Majorca.

The Travel Agent had arranged a driver to pick them up from the airport; Wearing a muggle sports coat and holding a sign for Mr and Mrs Evan Granger, they got in the car and started speeding along the cliffs of Majorca.

Their plane had been delayed getting to the gate in Majorca and Hermione could see the stars beginning to appear as they curved around the countryside. "Where are we going?" she asked, "You never said."

"Well we're going to do some wandering all over the island. But for the hotel, I wanted somewhere with a view-so it's this little hotel outside of Deia. Not as big a tourist draw, quiet and unsuspecting." Fred said, cranking his head around the driver as though he was trying to get a better view.

"What did you tell the Travel Agent, you wanted somewhere secluded?"she asked. She was trying to forget that time her fifth year they chose the Hogs Head over the Three Broomsticks for secrecy's sake but she dismissed the thought-or at least tried her best to send it to the back of her brain.

"No, told her I wanted somewhere nice and quite, a bit romantic and off the beaten path. Not overly touristy and she was able to find something one of her old contacts had. From what she old me it looks over the ocean, surrounded by rocky cliffs and just north of a cove. There's a kitchenette in our suite but I set it up for us to get breakfast in the morning-"

She smiled and leaned on his side, her head resting on his shoulder. She tried to follow his words but she made the mistake of closing her eyes. In the darkness, the words became heavier, until she felt them pulling her further and further down yet to where she could hear the quiet hum of the engine driving them up a hill. Fred's voice had fallen away but she could feel his hand resting on her knee, his head resting atop her own.

Her mind kept trying to provide words for him. That's how she knew she was dreaming, because nothing made sense. In her state of loose consciousness, she imagined Fred say they were going to go swimming and then dive for sea monsters one afternoon, while the next he had planned a tour through a village full of parrots and perhaps camping on a dragon's back.

No, that can't be right, She wanted to say, I've flown on a dragon's back, but we had the good sense to jump off into the lake and not set up the tent-

But that was another life. When she was another Hermione. And she didn't want her to make any appearances on this trip.

The car lurched to a stop and Hermione felt her head lurch with it. Her eyes flew open and she saw that evening had fallen on the island. The pinks of the setting sun were long gone and in its place the ghostly light of the moon spilled down on the big house in front of the car.

"We're here," he said, his hand lightly squeezing her knee. "Come with me, I'll get us checked in and you can fall asleep in bed and not the back of the car."

"Nothing wrong with the car," Hermione responded groggily as she took his hand and followed him out of the car. The driver helped with their one bag and Fred shook his hand, "Gracias Felipe," he smiled and she followed him into the main house.

The big house was two stories. While it was dark outside, Hermione could hear music from the back patio and see the glow of lights and she supposed that there was probably a party going on with some of the existing guests. She thought to peak back and see if she could see anything but Fred again said Gracias and she found herself now walking in stride with Fred, guided by a tired looking bell boy who was very grateful they only had one, magically light bag.

"Your casa senor," the boy said, stopping at a little house half way down the hill. It was a little stone cottage with white shutters. The Hotel had lit the lanterns next to the large oak door, making the hovel look welcoming and warm. The light also spilt on little flowers blooming in the window box, light blue petunia-esque trumpets spilling over and onto the grass below.

Again, she found her hand in Fred's who took the key and twisted the knob. "Want me to carry you in bridal style?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"That'll be our next trip," Hermione laughed as she pushed the door open and surveyed their suite.

"FIne, I'll hold you to it" Fred answered following her in.

The Cottage was definitely muggle dimensions and not as enhanced as the Burrow. The front door opened to a sitting room with light wood furniture and blue cushions situated to the corner where the fireplace lay empty. The white drapes had been pulled but they lined the wall making Hermione imagine that in the day time the cottage would be flooded with light. Attached to the sitting room was a small kitchenette and dining room, a bouquet of island flowers sitting on the table.

It might be small, but for just the two of them it felt like a castle.

"Fred, this is huge," Hermione said, walking down the hall to the Master Suite. "If the Death Eaters look into my dad's spending habits they'll know this was a sham. Dad's too frugal for this."

"I'd like to think your dad would have gone all out if he knew it was a swan song before you lot went into hiding," Fred answered, coming from the behind, following her into the master suite.

It was slightly larger than the sitting room. A wardrobe against the wall was the only piece of furniture other than the bed with a white douvett. Again, the walls were lined with drapes that were fluttering in the open wind, the waves crashing crashing into the cliffs beyond their reach.

"Now for the real test," Fred sighed, before leaping on to the side of the bed, "I know I said a muggle vacation but if the mattress is bad I know a few charms that would do the trick nicely."

"Here, you make sure the mattress is up to par and I'll explore the kitchen," she laughed walking out of the room. "Did you see those flowers, they're beautiful. Travel Agent?"

"Lets just say I tipped her well for the short notice miracle," Fred hollard from the room. Hermione mused over the petals when she saw the pamphlets showing of what they could do on the island. Each one seemed the same, bright colors with happy people enjoying themselves. Some on the beach, some in the hills, and some lying down as they received massages.

"Apparently they do boat rides up in Soller-" Hermione called, looking at a happy couple leaning against the railings of a skimmer.

"Still better than those flying coffin's you had me get on earlier."

She thought of yelling a response to that but she just laughed, shuffling through the different billfolds with small towns and their jewels. A church built by a follower of Gaudi. The different hikes, maps of the villages across the islands; the coves, the music-it was all a dream in so many ways. It didn't feel real. She walked into the bathroom and slipped into her pajamas-a set of shorts and shorts that she had gotten the summer before-from her extendable purse. That seemed to stop the talking through the wall about the sites she had seen in the brochure. Instead, she took a deep breath and looked into the mirror. She was in her pajamas and Fred was silent on the other side of the wall.

Nothing's going to happen, she told herself looking into the mirror. It didn't stop her from pinching her cheeks and biting down on her lip for a splash of color. Her hair was tossed from the day of travel and that wind when they got out of the cab hadn't done any favors.

But that doesn't matter, because nothing's going to happen, she repeated again. Hoping it would appease the Hermione who haunted her dreams, demanding she return her heart to Ron.

She tried to smooth out her hair but gave up. Looking in the mirror she gave herself a final look of approval and walked back into the bedroom where she saw him still on the bed.

He was asleep

Fast asleep.

He must have fallen asleep when she was babbling. She leaned against the door and looked down at his frame. He had kicked off his shoes that were now at the foot of the bed. His freckled ankles visible between his trousers and socks made it ever the more comical. He had taken off his jacket and his shirt ruffled in against the curve of the pillows he was enveloped in, his chest moving up and down as in the rhythm of the waves crashing outside their window.

Part of her wanted to tuck him into the bed, but doubted that he'd sleep through a levitation spell. Instead she opened the wardrobe and took out one of the large extra blankets. She draped half over him before she took the other half to cover herself.

But rather than rolling over she turned to her side and leaned towards him. "I love you," she whispered into his ear. She pulled back quickly to watch his face. Part of her half expected to see those blue eyes awake and alive, full of mischief and a good tease.

But they were still, his eyelashes didn't flutter a fakers squint but waved out to the freckled beach of his face. His still face. Not a suppressed smirk, no furrowed brow that she had grown accustomed to whenever she tried to bring up the war-just the face of the boy who in that moment Hermione would stop the world if that meant he could live forever in this moment with her.

One steady breath. And then another. She leaned in and kissed his cheek before she nestled under the blanket herself.

She rolled on to her side facing the ocean. The waves were crashing against the shore, calling to her to get lost in their lullaby. Her eyes grew heavy as she closed them, willingly losing herself to the music from their open window.

She felt a shift as Fred turned, a strong arm suddenly draping itself around her, and then pull her, like a child his teddy bear, closer to Fred. She could feel the tickle his words against her ear as his fingers curled around her arm. " l love you too" the ocean seemed to say as they both drifted into the night.

AN: Originally I planned on having Majorca take place in one chapter but as I came up and tested my different Fidelius Charms with George this worked best...so part two is coming in Chapter 35.

I'm so sorry its taken till February to update! I'm so used to writing them in war/preparing for what's coming that I've found my stuff struggling to write the romance bit. Don't worry. Most of Chapter 35 will be fluff... but only most. All I'm gonna say there. Chapter 35 will be fluff that comes from two people in love on an island, exploring villages and just basking in the sunny moment's of living. I'm purposely avoiding all Hallmark and Valentines stuff to make sure I don't write straight cotton candy fluff (to quote Hermione, I have some standards.)

I cannot thank you enough for all the love and support I've received from all of you. Your encouragement is what keeps this story updating. I've started fleshing out my outlines for the next few chapters and all I can say is I'm so excited for what's to come and hope you'll still stick around for the ride.

Until next time, KH