AN: After the last chapter, I feel like I need to apologies to each and every one of you for my lack of consideration of your poor nerves. But that'll have to wait till this chapter ends...
Falling Away
George woke the morning of Bills wedding to a cascade of crashing pots hitting the floor.
He lurched with a start, grabbing his wand from under his pillow and stumbling towards the door. Bloody Death Eaters aren't supposed to attack before nightfall, who ever heard of a Dark Mark being cast before lunch?
And then the room seemed to come into focus and he realized it wasn't the Death Eaters come to wake them for the wedding. Instead, an uneasy feeling seemed to bubble to the surface as he knew exactly who had made the ruckus.
((*))
The last few days, Fred had been in the foulest mood George could ever remember. He wasn't sure what had triggered it, but ever since they had gone to move Harry to the Burrow, something had been wrong with his brother. George had come back to the shop the morning after the attack to find the store packed with customers and only Verity and Lee running the store, Fred absent.
He was missing until the store closed, only resurfacing minutes before they were due back at the Burrow for dinner. Fred had ignored George's inquiries over where he had been all day; and when he told George he wouldn't be coming to dinner he simply answered that he was busy.
"Too busy to sneak googly eyes at Hermione all night? Not likely," George had pressed. He noticed how Fred's features seemed to sharpen and he dropped the subject.
"Just tell them I'm busy on the Fall Line," Fred grumbled, "Besides, I need to make sure we have the passports taken care of tonight I'm taking them to Justin tomorrow."
"But we were going to wait till after the wedding I thought," George asked surprised, "Didn't we decide we'd-"
"The sooner there out the better," Fred insisted, pulling the stacks of completed passports out from their hiding place under the floorboards in the kitchen. "The sooner we can get the kids out of here-"
"But where will they go?" George argued, "Have you heard back from Madam Maxine? I thought we'd get her answer at the wedding-"
"I haven't gotten that far yet," Fred had snapped, scratching the back of his neck with irritation. "Look, I'm working it out. We just need to get the kids out and get another batch going for the rest."
"The rest?" George asked, "Are you planning on evacuating every Muggleborn in Britain?"
George could quiet hear what his brother answered. It almost sounded like Someone ought to.
"What does Hermione think of this?" George had asked softly; surely his brother wouldn't change the plans this drastically without consulting with Hermione. She had liked the first plan because it got the kids out and set up somewhere they'd be safe; somewhere they'd be able to continue their education. The wallets truly only needed as a means of managing their travel expenses.
But a Mass Evacuation-entire families-that would be a bigger monster than any of them had imagined. And George doubted Madam Maxine would open the gates of her school for scores of refugees. They could probably house three or four small families at the Granger house, but even that couldn't be a long term solution.
"I'm working on it," was all Fred said. He shook his head and looked up at his brother, "Please George, just cover for me tonight."
George looked at his brother his arms crossed, "Little bit harder to do now that one of us is a little lopsided don't you think?"
Fred started to protest and George interrupted him, "Fine. You're busy, Got it."
He had wanted to say something to the effect of "Don't be surprised if Hermione ends up flooing over to help you-" but George sensed that wouldn't be wise. Fred's mood was one he wanted to steer clear from, he'd imagine Hermione would want to do the same as well. He was sure that Fred would run his course with the passports; realize the faults in his plan and they'd be ready to go by the end of the week as previously scheduled. Fred would wake up the next morning, they'd work a normal shift and return to the Burrow for Dinner and covert flirting.
But that didn't happen either.
Fred was out from work the next day; Apparently he had to go out and meet Charlie about something related for the passports "Just tell them I'm working on something," he said that night as George again prepared for dinner, "I'm close to finishing something up-I'll try and make it back in time for desserts."
Again, George had to dive the questions and inquiries coming from the family. His mother had sent him home with so much food he doubted Fred would come the next day. Ginny had cornered him in the kitchen asking why Fred was avoiding the family. She wanted to know if it was because of the break up because she had theories and reason to believe it was a fake break up but his absence was causing her to rethink her hypothesis.
George didn't see Fred on the third day after the accident. Lee asked him in the store if Fred had gone on Holiday, annoyed that it was only he, George, and Verity running the store.
"He says he's working on something," George answered shrugging off inquires to what, "All he says is he's almost done.
"Yeah, well I had dinner with Alicia last night and she said she saw Fred in the Ministry Yesterday," Lee quipped, wiping some slime off his arm. "She called after him and he disappeared in the crowd. Doesn't really sound like Fred."
Before George left for the Burrow he peeked into his brother's room. Fred wasn't exactly neat but he wasn't sloppy either. However, he found a broken mug on the floor and dry coffee stains on the wood. A lightning-esque crack in Fred's mirror gave George a foreboding feeling, confirmed with the culprit of what broke the mirror: an old textbook lying at his feet.
George knew this book. He knew it was Hermione's diary. He flipped through the pages to see the words had been wiped, her secrets still kept.
George may have forgotten the phrase Fred used-they'd come up with several possibilities, his favorite being Prefects are Pansies-but George knew better than to try and discover Hermione's secrets.
He wondered if Fred had been that wise.
Fred had finally come down to work in the store yesterday before he left for Harry's Birthday party. He had a smile and all the charm for the witches coming in to get their day dream fancies for the school year. He had let Verity leave early for the day, a sorry apology for his absence all week. Lee had just left, turning the "Closed" sign on the door behind him when George confronted his brother.
"So what's the excuse tonight?" he asked his arms folded and staring his twin down.
"You know I was actually thinking about coming tonight," Fred said, not looking up as he balanced the till.
"That's a laugh."
"Am I not welcome?" Fred asked finally looking up, his face surprised, " What's going on with you Georgie?"
"What's going on with you Fred?" George inquired, "You've been avoiding the family all week, you're not coming to work-you're going off the plan and-"
"I'm making the plan better-" Fred's face falling, his gaze returning to the till "I didn't have the full view and now-"
" That view doesn't have you coming up with a lie for Hermione every night," George said, his voice annoyed, "Dammit Fred, I know you're upset about the accident, but I'm not dead, we're not dying and it's not Hermione's fault. I came up with the bright idea to take the mufflers off the hats. If we had just listened to her-"
Fred slammed the register's drawer, making the bell shrill.
" What the hell-"
"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" Fred started, his hand scratching the back of his neck. "Listen, it's getting late. I'm going to bed, wish Harry a Happy 17th for me."
"What lie do you want me to tell tonight?"
"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Fred answered, before disappearing through the curtain to the work room.
((*))
A headache, you told them he had a headache, George thought as he put on some sweats and made it out of his room. His brother didn't know he had told them he had been feeling ill. He didn't know that Hermione had forced a gift on him. He wasn't sure when he was going to give it to his brother, it was tucked in his sock drawer. The way he was acting-with almost hostility towards her-he didn't want to see Fred do something he'd regret; or something that would hurt the two of them down the road.
Gingerly, George crept down the hallway and looked at the scene of chaos in the kitchen.
A red mixing bowl was levitating above the cabinets, ingredients dropping themselves haphazardly, half of the contents falling on the floor rather than the bowl. George could smell something burning on the stove and the charred ashes of a forgotten pancake seemed to simmer in the background.
A tea kettle and frying pan with half cooked eggs had been the object that had fallen from the ground, summoning George from his slumber.
The only thing that seemed to be missing was Fred.
"Freddie?" George whispered, looking over to the living space the door that lead to the shop. It seemed locked, nothing indicated he had left.
He walked around the cupboards and found Fred leaning against the pantry door, his knees tucked to his chest and his hands covering his head as though he was ducking for further impact.
The thing that concerned George most was Fred's head seemed to be bobbing up and down and George realized almost instantly the shaking seemed consistent with a sob.
George sank next to him on the floor, mirroring his position. Carefully, he reached over, draping his arm around his shoulder.
Fred's head rolled to face him. His blue eyes were lighter, more pronounced with the red haze that outlined the whites of them. His cheeks were also flushed red and ruddy.
"Hey, it's alright," George muttered, picking up a fallen tea towel and handing it to his brother. " I may not be able to make a cup of coffee, but I can make you some pancakes."
His brothers laugh came out like a cough, as though it hurt more than helped. "Now that's comforting."
George let the silence settle, Fred staring at the distance. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Fred shook his head at first, "Nothing to talk about really."
"It looks like you're baptizing the cupboards with flour," George said softly, "It might be something."
Fred sighed, closing his eyes as he said, "We broke things off last night," he answered, opening his eyes again before saying clearly, "I broke things off last night."
George felt his insides clench, " Why'd you do that?"
Fred didn't answer. Not right then. The silence returned.
"We had a row. I found out she lied about something and-"
"What did she lie about?"
Fred closed his eyes, shaking his head, again in visual pain. "I can't tell you Georgie. I'm sorry but I can't. We had a fight, I realized she didn't really love me and-"
"Now that is bullock's brother," George said, taking his arm from Fred's back. "There's only two things I'm sure of and Hermione Granger loving you is one of them."
"But she doesn't," Fred said, his voice cracking as he spoke, "If she did, if she really, really did, she wouldn't have lied about-she would've trusted me…"
"You're not making any sense Fred," George said, nudging his shoulder. "Just tell me-"
Instead, Fred shook his head, keeping his secret.
"Alright then. Well, you need to get in the shower. I'll clean up this mess and you can have a decent pancake before we leave for the wedding," George started.
Fred didn't say anything, he just got up and started shuffling towards the door. "Oh and Fred-"
George sighed as he stood up and wrapped his arms around his brother, "It's going to be alright," he muttered clapping him on the back, "today's going to be hard, but you have to get through it for Bill and Fleur. I can run interference for the two of you if I need to but you can't let this row ruin today."
He felt his brother's head nod and he let go of their embrace. Once he heard the door shut he looked on the cupboard and saw a tea cup. Taking a sip, he found it was straight Fire Whiskey no tea leaves to be had.
What could Hermione had lied about that would have lead Fred to breaking up? George thought, taking the cup and pouring the contents into a tumbler. What the hell makes him think she doesn't love him?
He drained the contents of the tumbler and shook his head. Today, George was certain, was going to be one of the longest days of his life.
((*))
Ginny was on the verge of a break down.
That was false, Ginny Weasley didn't break down. Instead, she was on the fast track to a Molly Weasley level march of furry.
When she had gotten up that morning-at the early hour of eight-she discovered Hermione was already up for the day. Which was natural. Hermione usually beat her to the punch on starting the day. Her side of the bed felt cold so she supposed her friend had gotten up early, dressed, and was down stairs eating breakfast with the boys.
When Ginny made her way down stairs she saw Charlie and Bill eating some sausages, laughing about Ginny's morning mane. Hermione must be upstairs with the boys, she thought as she wedged herself between her two brothers and took some of the sausage on Charlie's plate. No need to worry about Hermione, just what their mum would do when she saw Charlie had regrown his ponytail.
But when she had knocked on Ron's door asking if they could send Hermione to get ready her brother poked his head out only to say he hadn't seen Hermione all morning.
So Ginny went back to her room to see if she had just missed her in the hubbub of the morning. It was completely plausible that their paths hadn't crossed. Between the Delacours and all of the Weasleys descending upon the Burrow, there was a small army going up and down the stairwell at all hours of the morning.
And yet when Ginny reached her room there was still no sign of change and no sign of Hermione. The lilac dress she had chosen for the wedding still hung on their door next to Ginny's gold bridesmaids gown.
It was nearly eleven. If she didn't find Hermione soon, her mother would find out and she couldn't let Hermione go through that. She checked her night table for an extra bottle of the sleek easy potion that would sort out her friends hair. Of course much longer and it's going to have to be its usual style-
She snuck down a flight of stairs and looked around the kitchen only to find it empty. Maybe she should floo to the twins. Was it possible that the amicable break up had ended in lieu of the wedded bliss that was soon to fall on the Burrow? Perhaps in the name of love and war the two had realized the fools they were and decided to work through it. If Ron hadn't interrupted you and Harry yesterday, whos to say that wouldn't have happened for you?
Ginny shook her head, trying dismiss the thought. She knew better, but she could still hope.
Looking out the window she saw Harry and felt a flood of relief. If anyone knew where Hermione was, he would. Or at the very least, he would make her feel better about misplacing their friend and would volunteer to help in the search.
"Hiding in the garden are you?" Ginny asked as she snuck out the door. Harry turned his head up from the book he was reading and smiled.
"There was a queue for the bathroom so I figured as I'm going to be on a polyjuice beauty regime, don't need to worry about getting ready."
"Lucky you," she smiled, sitting next to him, " I nearly paid Tonks to pretend to be me today but mum overheard."
Harry laughed and turned to her with a smirk she knew well, "Sometimes I think your mum can sense mischief before it happens."
"Side effect of raising Fred and George," she grinned, her fingers accidentally brushing against his knee. She felt her smile fall and she pulled back her arm. "Sorry, I-"
"No it's alright I should be-"
"Have you seen Hermione?" She asked, interrupting him before he could get up and leave.
It worked, Harry sat back down. His eyebrows knit together with alarm as he responded, " No, I thought she was upstairs with you."
"She wasn't there when I got up this morning," Ginny started, for the first time that morning verbalizing her fear. "I thought she had snuck down for breakfast but it was only Charlie and Bill down there and neither of them had seen her."
Harry looked up at her bedroom window, standing up to see if there were any breaks in the ivy where she may have tried to climb down last night. "You don't think someones' kidnapped her do you?"
"Impossible with the amount of security we have here," Ginny sighed, her eyes searching the wall like Harry. " I mean-if she left, it would have been her free will."
"Was her purple bag with her?" Harry asked, concern growing. "She's got everything for our trip in there. If the bag's gone something-"
In the distance, Ginny could hear the whine of a gate. She raised her hand and Harry stopped talking as she turned around. She could see someone coming in the distance. Someone who had a purple bag draped across their front.
The person carried themselves the same as Hermione, but different. As though she wasn't sure of herself, her head slightly bowed down while her fingers fidgeted with her hair. The mane, the frizzy hair so typical of Hermione was gone. The once brown hair was a rich auburn now, one similar to the Prewett line than the orange hued Weasleys. And it was shorter, shorter than the one Tonks usually favored.
Ginny had a sinking feeling, one that told her that she would never tell Hermione she had thought she had gone to see Fred that morning. Because she had a strong feeling what had inspired that haircut...
"Ginny," Harry started, noticing the visitor" Who is that-"
"The bag Harry," Ginny gasped suddenly, standing up from next to him "look at her bag," she said again as she began racing towards Hermione.
Hermione looked up from the ground before Ginny reached her and although her cheeks were dry she could see where her eyes had a slight reddish tinge to them. Ginny put her arms around her, shushing her as she tried to explain herself, apologizing for the morning disappearance.
Harry was at their side not long after. He looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself, but unlike her brothers he stayed, resting his hand on Hermione's shoulder and asking if she was alright.
"I realized I'd forgotten a disguise," She started pulling away from Ginny as she spoke. "Ron's going to have spattergroit symptoms set in during the reception, you'll be in under a polyjuice potion," she said, looking towards Harry, her words running together as if she was giving a well rehearsed speech, "I'll have wasted a plane ticket if someone finds out I was at Bill's wedding and not at Ilvermorny."
"But we could have gotten you a polyjuice cover," Harry started, his eyes still tracing her hair as though he half expected it to grow back, "Or one of the amulets from the twins-"
"Every knows me by my hair, a little bit of hair dye and a drastic change, it'll throw them off, at least at first. Besides," Hermione said her voice faltering slightly, " It's a more practical style-short, efficient-its a security thing too; people will be less likely to get a hair and impersonate me in a polyjuice if its this short."
Harry looked at Hermione and then back to Ginny. It was as if he was trying to ask what they were supposed to do next. If there was a protocol to be followed when your friend did a radical unexpected thing. But as far as Ginny knew, there wasn't a protocol to follow for a broken heart. Each one was different, some were stronger than others. All Ginny knew was questioning Hermione's thought process at a time like this wouldn't benefit anyone.
"Is it really that bad?" Hermione asked, her smile falling, her words again rushing out. "I thought about going redder but I didn't want it to clash with my dress-"
Ginny could see the doubt in Hermione's eyes and she refused to add to it. Truth be told, the short hair only enhanced her features and she would be more recognizable once the connection was made, but she didn't need to hear that. Not yet.
"It doesn't look bad at all," she promised. "Come on, let's get you upstairs and ready. Fleur was hoping you could help with her hair. I'll meet you in my room and we can do our makeup before helping Fleur."
Ginny watched Hermione make her way up the stairs before she closed the door and turned to look at Harry, "Let me know when Fred shows up. We're going to have a few words before the ceremony."
((*))
Harry had found his way back to the garden bench.
Sitting on the bench, he kept fidgeting with the flasks lid, whiffs of polyjuice potion escaping as he did. Fred and George were supposed to be bringing him the last bit-some muggle either from London or the town below the hills. He was trying to focus on that. That was distracting. A good distraction than trying to figure out what was coming.
If everything went to plan, they would be somewhere else this time tomorrow. He wasn't sure where. Honestly, he hadn't put much thought into any place other than Godric's Hollow. He wasn't quite sure where else they could start. Dumbledore had only told Harry they needed to find the horcruxes, he didn't will him a step-by-step process on how exactly to go about finding them. He'd be lying it he said he wasn't anxious about that. His friends were blindly trusting in him that he knew what they'd do next and other than disarming things, Harry wasn't quite sure of their next course of action.
There was another thing that kept Harry flipping the flask's lid back and forth, Hermione.
When Ginny had told Harry that Hermione and Fred had broken up, he believed it. Hermione was logical, more so than him, and had probably realized much earlier on in her relationship that if she was going to go anywhere with Harry, for Fred's sake she'd have to put any relationship on hold. He had broken up with Ginny to keep her safe, and Harry thought Hermione must had done the same for Fred.
Hermione hadn't told Harry any details. And he didn't think she would, after all, this was Hermione. She was more tight lipped than Neville after a good stunning charm. She said it had ended weeks ago, Harry believed her.
But this morning, when she had come into the yard, clutching her purse close, running her fingers down her shorn hair, it was the most vulnerable Harry had seen Hermione in years. She was carrying herself as if she was trying to hold herself together from the outside. To his knowledge, only three people had ever made her cry and he wondered what Fred would do if he knew he had made a list where he shared ranks with Snape, Malfoy and Ron.
And then Ron- Harry knew both he and Ron could be oblivious, he wondered if Ron would pick up on Hermione's broken heart. He wasn't observant, but he had the slightest inclination he'd have a few words to say about her hair.
He could hear laughter coming from beyond the hedge and he looked up to see Fred and George walking into the yard.
From where he stood, they never looked more different. George had parted his hair differently to see if he could disguise his ear from wedding guests. He must have been the one laughing, his face was flush. Fred on the other hand seemed to be wearing a fake smile, one Harry had learned from flying with Oliver as they trained. The smile usually disappeared with a rude hand gesture the minute Wood had turned his back and ordered another drill.
"Are things so bad in the house you're claiming sanctuary in the garden?" George asked, motioning his head towards the Burrow, "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the warning-"
"Here's another warning then," Harry interrupted looking from George to Fred, "Ginny is going to maim you if you're not careful."
Fred looked up quickly, surprised. "What did I do this time?"
" Just guess," said a chilling voice coming from behind.
Harry never thought he had seen Ginny more terrifying or beautiful. Her hair draped her shoulders in slight curls. She had said her dress would clash with her hair but instead it seemed to give her the glow of a flame as she looked at her brother, debating if he something she needed to burn.
"Morning," George tried, taking a step between Fred and Ginny, "You look-"
Ginny shoved George away and took a step out towards Fred, whipping out her wand in one fluid motion as she pointed it at his chin, "You talk to her, you look at her, you do anything to her and I swear I'll make George the good looking one again-"
"Oi! I still am"
"I don't know what you did to her or when," she growled, flinging her wand at Harry who had taken a step back, "but he's the boy who lived and I'm the girl who hexes and it won't end well for you if you ever hurt Hermione Granger again.."
"I thought I was still your brother or did I lose that in the break up too?" Fred asked his voice rising, "Please let me know, apparently I'm to become accustomed to losing people—"
George stepped between the two, his hand pushing away Ginny's wand while his other one guarded Fred's pocket. "Now, unless we'd like to have the entire Burrow turn out into the garden and learn about the end of a relationship none of them knew about," he said with an even voice, "which, when you think about would create all the dramatics a bride on her wedding day would loathe, stop it."
Harry watched as Fred stepped back, scrachting the back of his hair with annoyance while Ginny turned her angry eyes to George.
"Right then, we're going to get thru this day as a big happy family. Ginny, you take these sweets up to Fleur, Lord knows she's not eaten yet. Harry," George looked over at him and then to Fred, "You stick with us and we'll mix your wedding cocktail. If I know Muriel she'll be here any minute."
Ginny took the bag from George, glared at Fred and made her way back into the Burrow, slamming the door behind her.
George opened his case again and pulled out three glasses and a large amber bottle. "Come on you two," he sighed, "I have a feeling we're all going to need a pick me up before this starts."
((*))
The wedding had been a mirror image of the first one, Hermione thought.
While the chairs had appeared around tables, the music swelling the tent as the birds of paradise that had released from the twins' balloons faded away, Hermione took to a corner of the tent and watched her ghosts enjoying their last moments of peace before a patronus would chase all of this away.
There was a soft wind on the perimeters of the tent and she instantly felt a chill against her neck. She brushed her fingers against the nape of it now, feeling the soft curls that were all that remained of the Granger mane.
She didn't regret chopping off her hair. She had needed to do it. Fred had made all the decisions the night before. He had decided to read her diary. He had decided to make and cast judgement on her without explanation. He had damn well decided they were done.
She needed to decide something, anything. Something that was drastic, yet not too consequential. Extreme, but practical. And her hair seemed like a good place to start.
After he left, she had stayed at the pond and eventually she had stopped crying and the wheels in her mind, long since logged in love began churning again. She had summoned the purple bag from the pond and left the barriers of the Burrow around daybreak that morning. She made her way to the village below the hills, sat and had breakfast at a little cafe and waited for the hairdressers to open. When the stylist showed up and Hermione told her what she wanted the stylists' eyes grew wide and he tried to talk her out of it. Something shorter, perhaps a bob? What you've got now straight to a Princess Di is a little extreme-once I start we'd have to wait for it to grow back if you don't like it.
He had made her look through a few samples first but she persisted. Cut it short. Simple and short. Easy to maintain. Nothing fancy. She couldn't hear everything he chundered under his breath as he took out the scissors and began dividing her hair, but she could have sworn she heard him say must have been one hell of a break up.
"You cut your hair," a familiar voice started from behind pulling her back to the present, "I like it."
Hermione turned quickly and saw Viktor Krum standing beside her, holding two flutes of honey mead.
Hermione didn't know Viktor's War Stories as well as she would have liked. She knew that he had helped Charlie get out of a few close scrapes in the early months of the war when he made runs to the continent for the Order. At one point, Viktor had given Charlie credentials to make it look like he was a third string seeker for the Vratsa Vultures as they pursued the European Cup that fall, helping give him a cover as he tried to rally support between Quidditch Matches.
She had seen Viktor again shortly after the war; He had been in attendance at Fred's funeral, out of respect for his new found friendship with Charlie. When the Weasleys had been swarmed by well wishers after they buried Fred, Viktor had found her and swept her into an embrace that would have made Ron red with anger, but was a safe harbor Hermione had missed.
What are you going to do next? He first asked; It's one of the things she had loved about Viktor, he didn't beat around the bush. He was direct, but kind about it. She told him she was going back to school she supposed, and after that-she wasn't sure. That had caught him off guard and she could remember him distinctively raising his eyebrow with surprise.
"Hermionny Granger not know vhat she's going to do next?" he had said playfully, "You had your vhole life mapped out when you vere fifteen."
"Well, we defeated the bad guy earlier than we thought" she shrugged, "I suppose that moves up the life plan a few years."
"Here" he started, digging in his pockets "You've been fighting Dark Magic as long as you've had a vand, please" as he took out a small gold snitch and placing it in her hand, "Please take this."
"What-"
"If you need a place to run away to, to get away from this for a while, come to Bulgaria," he smiled hopefully. "Be reacquainted vith yourself. Find out who Hermionny Granger is vhen she doesn't have Death Eaters on her her tail."
She took a closer look at the Snitch and saw it had coordinates on it that she assumed led to his country house outside of Sofia, "Viktor I can't-you remember Rita, I think Kingsley has the press under a restraining order or they'd be here right now, we can't shake them-"
"That's the best part" he said, practically brimming as he folded her fingers around the snitch, "The Vorld Cup is in Africa this year, I'll be there-you can have the house to yourself. Besides after everything you three have been through," he said looking behind her to where Harry was now walking with Ginny away from the crowd, Ron headed towards her and Krum, "I think you all need a chance to become yourselves again."
They hadn't gone to Bulgaria. She had forgot about the invitation after Kingsley alerted her they had a ping on the Australian case. But Viktor had still kept in touch, always letting her know he was waiting in the wings least some idiot break her heart, or willing to welcome the aforementioned idiot if that meant they'd come and visit in the off season.
And here he was, waiting as always, with a drink waiting for her to clean up the mess of an idiot.
"Viktor," she said with a smile, "I thought I saw you during the ceremony."
"I'm fortunate that Fleur is one of the more forgiving souls that vould invite a man vho once performed an unforgivable on her," he said, as his eyes followed Fleur and Bill to the dance floor.
"To be fair, that wasn't you and she knows that," she smiled.
"Still, not many people vould do it," Viktor chuckled. " How are you doing Hermionny?"
"I'm actually in cognito, or supposed to be," she whispered, "For tonight I'm Rosie Weasley."
"But vhy?" he asked, quickly adding, "Rose."
Because their going to start rounding up muggleborns and I'm the first on their list, because we're disappearing, because I've never been one to take the easy path. "It's complicated," she said with a smile, "It's not the best answer, but it's the easier answer."
"Vell then, Rose," Viktor smiled, "You look like an old friend of mine. I vas hoping she'd share a drink with me and tell me vhat she's been up too-but As you're not her but obviously the most beautiful woman here tonight, vould you like a drink?"
"That line didn't work three years ago and it won't work now," Hermione grinned, taking the glass and clinking it with his, "Salude Viktor."
((*))
It had been a long evening for Fred.
It had started with a longer afternoon. One where his sister had threatened him over the break up. One where he had to do a double take as he watched George walk a pretty stranger down the path towards the tent. He hadn't recognized her at first. She was wearing a lilac dress that fluttered behind her, Her hair was auburn, flicks of red catching in the sunlight. It was shorter too, like Tonks on a good day. She had turned around, as though she had felt eyes on her and that's when he recognized her. Her familiar, haunting brown eyes that he had last seen when he left her crying in the moonlight. With her new hair, she looked older and confident, hardened even-but then George said something to make her laugh and that had all melted away to where she was his Sunny again.
He had sat through his brother's wedding, trying for the better part of it not imaging a future wedding where Hermione stood in Fleur's spot, and Bill's role was revised by Ron.
She'd be miserable, he told himself, but that didn't make him feel better. If anything it made him angrier knowing that he was doomed to die and Hermione was doomed to live the rest of her life married to his idiot brother. He shouldn't have told her to start snogging him. She wouldn't be happy, it'd be a constant uphill marriage full of bickering and insecurities. He knew Ron wouldn't intentionally be a bad husband, but he knew that for Hermione, the life Ron would want them to live would never be enough.
He had joked about which of his brothers she could rebound to when they were in Majorca, but now knowing how true that could be, he thought maybe he should encourage Charlie to dance with Hermione.
According to Hermione, he was supposed to die, but perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps if he made enough changes they could end the war earlier. Perhaps more lives would be saved, and when the dust finally settled Fred was convinced he and Hermione would reconcile and all would be well. At least, that was the latest theory he had come to while drinking the Honey Mead Fleur had chosen for tonight.
He was still furious she hadn't told him, the alcohol hadn't dulled that. But he missed her. He missed that hope, that purpose she had given him. He missed her reassurances. He missed her. Yes, they'd spent a year planning how they'd save lives and she had neglected to share the details of his own. That stung-but he realized he shouldn't have said everything he had when he confronted her last night. He wanted to believe that perhaps, if he lived, perhaps he could set things right. Perhaps he could get her to fall in love with him for real. Perhaps she would choose him over Ron if she didn't think he had an expiration date. It wouldn't be pity dates, or kisses before the reaper. Perhaps this was the mead talking, but perhaps he'd find out it was all in his head and she really had loved him and he had been an ass in assuming otherwise.
Or perhaps she wouldn't choose Ron this time at all, perhaps she'd go for someone else, he thought as s he saw Hermione laughing while in an animated conversation with Viktor Krum.
"Oi Freddie," George said, slipping next to his side, "Charlie said the toasts are about to start, have you seen Ron?"
Yes, get Ron. He could throw a punch at Krum and then once he retaliates you can attempt to beat him to a pulp in the name of family honor.
"Ron? No I think he got cornered somewhere with Muriel," Charlie answered appearing on Fred's other side.
"Well, that's your answer then," George said forcing a wrapped candy into Fred's hand, "Give him this and Ickle Ronniekins will be the first case of Spattergroit in Britain in the last fifteen years."
"Why do I need to give it to him?" Fred asked, turning his attention away from Hermione and Krum.
"Because of that," George said nudging his head in Hermione's direction. "You've been staring for the better part of an hour brokenhearted one."
"Have not."
"Charlie, please," George asked pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Come on Fred, get out of the tent for a little bit, prank our brother, it'll do you good," Charlie tried, "I hear mum has some spare pastries in the kitchen."
Fred rolled his eyes and scanned the room for Muriel and her ridiculous hat, " Fine, I'll take care of Ron. But you," he said, lifting a finger and pointing it at Charlie's chest, "Go ask old Krum for an autograph or how he does the Wronski Feint-just make them less chummy."
((*))
After it became apparent that Charlie and Viktor would be talking about Quidditch for the foreseeable future, Hermione returned to the empty tables, keeping an eye out for Harry should they need to disappear sooner than later. She found him talking to Elphius Dodge, Muriel creeping up not far behind. Ron must have been kidnapped for his Spattergroit, she just hoped the Twins had let a few people see the symptoms set in so the story would seem credible.
She felt a sudden tap on her shoulder and she had half expected to see Harry incognito, but instead was the familiar face and head bandages of George Weasley.
"What's a beautiful woman like you doing sitting all alone at a table like this?" He asked, slipping into the chair next to her.
"Needed a rest, that's all," she answered. He seemed to nod in agreement before standing up again and extending his hand, "How about a restful dance with your favorite Weasley?"
She cocked her eyebrow, placing her hand in his. "How do you figure you're my favorite?"
"Process of elimination has me in the top three, I'm counting on my good looks and charm to best Charlie and Ginny," he winked as he led her to the dancefloor.
"Keep telling yourself that George," Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes.
"Oh I will, don't worry," he said with an impish grin. "Quick laugh at what I'm saying, Muriel is looking over here and I'd love her to accuse me of dating a cousin again."
"She's done that before?" she asked as she laughed, "Do you date your cousins?"
"Nah, she just assumes anyone with reddish hair is a Weasley or a Prewett," George explained, "That new hair color of yours puts you right in the category."
"Thought it might help me blend in," Hermione shrugged, looking down at their feet.
George shook his head with a smile, "As someone who cares for you, I feel it my obligation to tell you you always stand out-"
"George-"
"But for the record, it was a good attempt nonetheless," he finished, winking at her as they danced on.
"You're always too good to me," Hermione said softly, more to herself than to him. She wasn't sure he had heard her, but the change in his face said contrary.
"Listen," George said, his voice gentle they danced across the floor, "Freddie told me about the break up and-I don't know the details," he said firmly, cutting off any protest she may have, " I mean I do, but I don't. I don't want to know them. I can't know them. I'm his twin and at days end, I have to be Team Fred on this one."
"I understand George," Hermione said; she supposed Fred hadn't told him about what was written in the book; if knew, she doubted he'd be dancing with her here, trying to cheer her up.
George gave her a quizzical look as though he was trying to determine how she was doing and he wasn't amused. "It's fine George, he's your brother and I'm just another brother's friend. I get it, I promise."
"Oi, none of that," he started, looking appalled and scandalized at her words. "You're not just Ronnie's friend, you're mine too," he finished, twirling her out before calling her back in, "Besides, just because I'm Team Fred doesn't mean I've given up on Team Fremione."
"Team Fremione?" she asked, caught completely off guard by this phrase. "What's that?"
"It's the two of you. Together," he smiled, proud of his play on words. "Hermione, I've never seen my brother happier than he's with you. And I've never seen him more miserable than I have these last few days. I know Fred, he'll come around," he smiled, squeezing her hand.
"Maybe some moments can't live forever, no longer how much we want them to," she muttered, looking away.
"Well the moments you've had to live through, making wallets to evacuate kids-those shouldn't last forever," George countered, "Just you wait, in a years time you three will have won the war and Fred will be begging to give him a second chance. Make him work for it but not too hard," George said as he swirled her out and then back in, "Team Fremione will live again."
Hermione wished she shared his optimism, but he hadn't heard the way Fred had spoke to her last night when he ended it.
When the song had ended, George had kissed her forehead and Hermione had headed towards her empty table. Until she felt another tap to her shoulder and ask " Vould you like to dance?"
She smiled again, turning around to face him. "Viktor I'd-"
"Wait," a voice said behind her, she turned and saw Fred standing behind her out of breath as though he had just sprint to the scene. Hermione could see a Veela cousin behind him flash a look of rage as he must have made her spill her drink on her gown.
"Fred?" she seemed to whisper, "What-" what are you playing at? What do you want? What's wrong?
"Can I cut in?" he said, with a smile that faltered as he tried catching his breath, "Think my name's on your dance card."
"Shouldn't ve be dancing before you interrupt?" Viktor asked unconvinced, pulling her hand towards the floor.
Fred cast her an imploring look. She didn't want to look at him let alone dance with him. He seemed to know that. But she wasn't sure how many more chances they'd have tonight. And tonight would be the last time they saw each other until they were reunite at Hogwarts-
One last time. Say good-bye on better terms, she steeled herself. Stay in control.
"No, it's fine," she promised, stopping mid step," I'm sorry Viktor I promised Fred a dance a while ago," Hermione said, turning towards Fred, "I'll find you for the next one" she smiled, brushing his arm as she let go of his hand and reached for Fred's.
Fred look relieved and walked her towards the back of the dance floor. A soft guitar song was playing, similar to their night on Majorca. If it wasn't for the everything that happened in the last twenty four hours, she was sure they would've relished in this moment.
"Can you please smile? Otherwise he might decide to cut in," Fred muttered as they turned across the floor.
"He's tried to dance with me a couple times tonight" she said, keeping her lips even. And he doesn't have to ask me to smile.
"Alright," he sighed, " I'll be quick then," his brow furrowed and his voice low, "Do you see the pudgy blonde next to Harry?" Fred asked, motioning to the two figures at a table towards the back.
"Yes," she started, squinting her eyes, " who is he?"
"Some trouble maker who tried to nick a nougat from the shop, George got a hair so he's actually Ron," he replied, turning her again, "Nursing a pepper up potion, I think the skiving snack had too much kick to it honestly."
She nodded looking at her two boys, "Thank you, we'll sneak away once he feels up to it-"
"They won't be coming tonight, the Death Eaters," Fred interrupted, looking at her again, confident, assured as her insides began to churn. "You three can disappear when Bill and Fleur leave for the honeymoon, or you can get a good sleep and leave in the morning before Mum gets up."
"What do you mean?" she asked, feeling her heart pounding, her hands clamming, "They come after they kill Scrimgeour."
"I put in an anonymous tip, Scrimgeour should be safe tonight," he reassured her, "You don't need to runaway tonight unless you really want to."
"Fred what have you done?" she asked her mind reeling, the timeline shattering around her, "You can't just bulldoze changes in time-there's consequences"
"No they're not consequences, they're people we know and care about dying," he interrupted, he caught his tone of voice and after taking a breath he tried again, "Hermione-I'm sorry, but what do you-"
"Promise me you don't do anything reckless," she cut him off, "And that you-you think before you do something like this."
"I don't need to promise you-"
"The hell you don't," she swore, her feet stopping where they were, nearly yanking him down as she did. "You promise me now or I stop this right here and tell George whats going to happen to you and then you'll have a baby sitter until well after the war's over and don't think I won't."
Their eyes locked on each other. Another couple bumped into them and Fred flashed an apologetic smile and the two started dancing again in silence as the lights bobbed above their heads.
This was all wrong. In another world, things would be so different. In another world he'd ask what she was thinking. They'd be running to snog in the shed before disaster struck. They'd be trying to make every last moment count. But she was so angry with him right now it took all she could to dance with him; she didn't want to look at him. Any hope she had when she chose him over Viktor, that they could say goodbye on better terms, those hopes were gone. Who knew what else he had done since finding out-if the coup didn't happen tonight, who was to say it would happen in the morning or weeks from now? And what if a Weasley was at the Ministry when it did? At least here they were safe, Mr Weasley's Patronus had promised that much.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked softly after a moment. "I know the boys will be alright, they'll be with you. but-"
"We'll manage-" she clipped.
"There's a difference between being alright and managing-" Fred said, "Trust me, I've learned that from you."
"What do you care?" Hermione asked testily, looking at him, " We're over, you don't love me-"
"I never said that," he interrupted, this time stopping on the floor, "When did I say that?"
"You made it clear last night. I never said I didn't love you. You decided that for me," she said, letting go of his hands and walking away.
She felt his hand on her wrist, "Hermione, I-"
A woman dancing next to them gasped while another called out to look. The silvery glow of a lynx somersaulted through the tent, hovering just above them. The Ministry has fallen, Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming. They are coming.
Fred's wide eyes met her own. "You need to go," he said, shuffling behind her and pushing them both through the panicking crowd, doing his best to shelter her from the rush of bodies around them,"Something's gone wrong, you and the boys need to go, now."
She could see Harry and Ron in the distance, the two of them fighting through the crowds to get to her. She turned around, looking back at Fred, who had his hands on her shoulders now, pushing her towards her friends. Her eyes locked with Fred's one last time.
"Fred," she started. She was sorry that she yelled. She was sorry that she had walked away. She was sorry she hadn't told him what was going to happen and this would be one of his last memories of them. There was so much she wanted to say now, so much she wanted to tell him, but time had run out. He knew that.
"Go," he said giving her one final push towards Harry," For God's sake, Go!"
Ron's hand finally reached her and she pulled closer to them and she soon found Harry's open. The top of the tent was starting to burn as Death Eaters made their entrance, She turned around one last time, still hearing Fred's voice yelling for her to leave before she apparted them away from the chaos.
((*))
Hermione felt herself sway on the spot as they appeared on a London Street, right outside a building. "Where the bloody hell are we?" Ron asked looking at their surroundings. The street was packed with Muggles. She had forgotten it had been this way last time too. She turned to her right and looked up to see the purple marquee and sign for the ticket office, a single Rose in a glass case on the poster.
The war has started.
They were on the run again.
And there was now someone else meddling with time, trying to end the war before it ended them.
AN:
I struggled writing parts of this chapter; I felt like I was asking too much of Fred and Hermione during the wedding (raise your hand if you've had to interact with an ex fresh off the break up? Yup, its not ideal at all.) but overall I'm proud of how this all turned out. Also, guys: The War's Starting and you have Hermione trying to keep the fixed points fixed while Fred is changing everything including the kitchen sink!
...but in full honesty, Thank you, thank you THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, fav'd, etc the last chapter. I truly appreciate and cherish conversations I've had with friends regarding this story and how your interacting with it. Despite the break up, I am so glad that you felt emotions from it. The next stretch is going to be different but I will promise you this, Fred and Hermione will have more a reunion before the journey's end. You'll just have to wait and see.
Due to the holidays/working retail, Chapter 41 will be up around the New Year. I promise I won't make you wait too long.
May your days be merry and bright (and safe)- KH