Falling Punches

Fred's second Christmas on Diagon Alley was far different than the first.

Last year there had only been whispers of a coming danger. You could still find families perusing the alley, visiting the shops with bright window displays, packages in tow. Dung dressed like an elf ringing a bell for St Mungo's and pocketing the gold himself. Flourish and Blotts had created a frosted window with snowflakes made from book pages. The Magical Menagerie had little rats dressed like Father Christmas pulling a sleigh. He, George and Lee had all stopped by Fortescue's Ice Cream parlour to try the Brain Freeze Yeti challenge, something they had failed horrifically and nursed with a Fire Whiskey when they returned to the shop.

This year there had been no magical shift between Halloween and Christmas. Fortescue's ice cream had been closed since summer when it's owner had disappeared. The Menagerie was still opened but Dung was gone. Fred had saw last Tuesday when he entered the alley that a large notice had gone up on Flourish and Blotts door announcing that the store would be closing its doors in the new year but would remain open for Owl Service orders.

There was only one shining light that would guide those foolish enough to venture into the Alley, and that would be Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.

Lee had helped George last week with a charm where the paint outside would flash between red and green. The windows had suspended Cornish Pixies casting a blue glow against the frost they had put up. The wreath they had placed on the front door was of maroon and orange tinsel with a lovely shrunken head wearing a Father Christmas hat and would give either a foul greeting or fouler parting depending on the time of day and Verity's stress levels which, between running the store, serving the passports for Justin and his helpers, and picking up news for Potterwatch-were at an all time high.

There was just a few days left till Christmas. Ginny would be coming home from school in the morning. He was planning on meeting her to escort both her and Luna home, saving Luna from the Death Eaters kidnapping as Hermione's journal warned. Tomorrow he'd bring them back to the store and after they had played with the puff skins he'd pull out two passports and try and talk the girls into taking them and going to Beauxbatons rather than return to Hogwarts after the holiday.

He knew his sister, and he knew she'd take it. But he'd been on edge since he had overheard her name on the Percy Pod a few months ago after the failed theft of Gryffindor's sword.

Someone had said they were looking at discipline for her, the Lovegood girl and Longbottom. Detentions with the Carrows, it seemed, were not proving effective enough. Fred had noticed the tension in Percy's voice, it was his bluffing voice, as to suggest that maybe it was best to expel them all and send them home. They hadn't cared for that. They wanted to keep the perpetrators at the school where they could be monitored, not sent home to join the rebellion. Fred had the feeling home wasn't an option for these kids. If they were being chucked out of Hogwarts, he thought it would be to be chucked in to Azkaban.

Fred didn't want to think what Ginny kidnapped or in Azkaban would do to his parents. They had been doing as well as could be expected through all of this. His father had been giving them lists of Muggleborns he'd worked with through the years for rescue operations while their mother had started knitting scarves that George and he would pick up and run to Granger House when things got full. It was a small contribution but it was hers. It's a brave thing, she said, leaving everything you know for the unknown and sometimes bravery came from a kind gift at home.

And they were beloved little treasures, almost every boat had families in Molly Weasley scarfs. It seemed to do something to the nerves, Fred had noted. It was something he had briefly touched on last week when they did their Potter Tales on the broadcast. They had talked about Harry and his peculiar friendships, with muggleborns, pure bloods, and even House Elf's. That's how Hermione has been brought in, Fred had shared a memory of Hermione making hats and trying to get people to join SPEW. He never had, but he'd always remember that fire in her eyes when she talked about it. He imagined her listening to the story with a smile and her knitting needles working merrily into the night.

He smiled at the image until it faded back to reality. He hoped Ginny would take the passport. And even if she wouldn't, he hoped it would scare her enough to stop trying to steal things from Snape—at least till the danger had passed.

The war will have to end before she stops, he thought to himself, putting the passports in his drawer, she'd consider it the height of disloyalty to leave Harry—even if he's already left her.

He understood that all too well.

"You know I thought we were going to be in trouble this year with everything shutting down like it has," said George going over their ledger book, "But that sickle bump in Owl Post is evening it all out."

"Good," Fred said, pulling out his own workbook and flipping to his latest design. "Anything extra this Christmas?"

"Nothing like last years," said George, looking at the last years sales, "but we're still in the green. So long as Harry ends this war before Summer, and assuming the Ministry cuts some deals on real estate- we could hypothetically still buy Zonkos and not be strapped for gold."

Fred smiled. He appreciated moments like this where George's optimism shined. There were times he really wanted to tell his brother what he knew, what Hermione had never told him but he didn't want to rob him of these optimistic dreams—expanding the shop, continuing their rolling empire, the two of them side by side planting seeds that would blossom in a legacy of mischief. Fred didn't want to tell him because a part of him wanted to still believe them, wanted to agree and have hope on a thousand tomorrows to come.

He looked down at his workbook. It was a new model of extendable ears. He had got the idea after George's accident. It was an expendable ear but one you could wear like a normal ear. A prosthetic, you could say, that had excellent hearing abilities. He was sure that if Mad Eye had been Mad Ear, this would have already been a thing. What Fred was working on was the formula he'd need to apply via charm so George could change the hearing between expendable and normal at will rather than head everyone yelling 24/7. It was proving trickier than he had imagined. He had hoped to have it ready as a Christmas gift but the Muggleborn had taken his time. At best, he'd have a prototype by their birthday. At the very worst, he'd have his notes and designs in a book for him to find should the wall still come down on him.

That's not going to happen Freddie.

No, he thought, but it could.

"Whatcha working on?" George asked from his desk, " You're awfully quiet tonight."

"Headache," he lied, turning a few pages and looking at a different design, a different blue print. "Just thinking I guess."

"Hmm," George mused. Fred looked up and saw that he was fiddling with something. He was no longer sitting at his work space but stood next to him, fiddling with a long, thin box wrapped in maroon and tied with orange string. George had this weird look on his face, as though he was genuinely unsure of himself. " What do you have their Georgie? Are we doing Christmas early?" Fred asked cautiously, "I don't have yours so you can wait."

"This isn't from me Freddie," George said, scratching the back of his head and putting the gift between the two of them. George looked at the box and then at his brother.

"Last fall, before shit hit the fan, Hermione gave me that to give to you—"

Fred felt his body tense and noticed his heart picking up a beat. "What—"

"Listen—" George interrupted, "She gave it to me the day before you ended things and I—didn't want to see you do something you would regret so I've held off. And I get that things are over, or at least on hold but I thought between the story we did on Potterwatch last week and you choosing the sunshine song—I thought it was time. That you've made peace with her memory," he said, as though it were a matter of fact. " If anything, its at least time for you to decide what you want to do with this, not me."

Fred looked at the box. A thin layer of dust had dulled the wrappings color. She hasn't said anything about this, not when they talked at the wedding or at the Ministry. He didn't have the foggiest idea what this was or what it had once meant. Surely if she could have taken it back she would have. She'd probably prefer he got rid of it.

But he didn't want to.

It was evidence she had been here. Evidence that at one time, they had been together.

He picked up the box. It wasn't too heavy, but heavier still than he had expected.

"You don't have to open it right away, just when your ready," George said. Getting up and going back to his seat. Fred didn't say anything. He just held the package, shifting it back and forth feeling an object sliding as he did "It's Christmas, I'm sure she'd want you to have whatever it is."

Fred mumbled something or other and got up from his desk. He took the gift and walked up stairs, opening the door to his room. He sat on the bed, and started pulling the paper from the corner when he suddenly stopped.

George might think Hermione would have wanted him to have this gift, but he wasn't sure anymore. He didn't deserve this. Whatever she had given to him and been a gift given when they were in love, when he hadn't hurt her or sent her away. She had hurt him yes, but he knew he had done worse. He had crushed her.

He sat up and put the gift on top of his dresser. He'd put it in the drawer later, or perhaps under the kitchen floorboard, somewhere it would stay staff. Somewhere it could stay till she came back and they had made up. And then he'd open it with her blessing.

((*))

The next day hasn't gone like Fred had anticipated.

When he got to Kings Cross at 4 to greet the train he was met with a swarm of parents and family members who were being told they weren't allowed on the Platform. An anxious father from Kent had actually run straight into the barrier and broke his nose when it refused to give way.

The rumor churning around the crowd was that the Board of Governors has determined the train station to be a security risk. To avoid any accidents, a last minute change had been made for students to Floo directly from the 9 3/4 Platform fireplace to their homes.

"Would it have killed them to tell us this before we all made our way to London?" A father had grumbled under his breath. Fred looked around carefully trying to survey the scene. He could see Runcorn, the man from the Ministry Harry had impersonated walking the perimeter of the crowd, looking down at his paper before surveying those around him.

"Makes the least bit of sense, why make them take the train if they're just going to floo from London," two mothers murmured side by side, gripping a suitcase of their own. "Isn't there a fireplace in Hogsmeade Station? Why not send them out from there? My Bonnie could have been home by noon and we'd already be abroad."

Fred felt the hairs on his neck rise and he kept his eyes locked on Runcorn, watching with care as the Ministry official shuffled through the group. None of this seemed right. It felt like they were all trapped, and he'd be damned if Ginny was trapped somewhere beyond his reach. He slipped into the broom closet and apparted to the Barrier of the Burrow.

He ran the path to the gate and up the front walk, dodging the gnomes now wearing Father Christmas hats, his father's attempt for Christmas cheer. He threw the door open and found his mother hugging Ginny tightly, the green flames from the floo still dying behind her. Remus was also standing awkwardly in the kitchen with a mismatched cup and saucer while Tonks stood by his mother's side.

"Fred!" Ginny cried, letting go of her mother and running to Fred, "I was worried that they were going to get you."

"Get me?" Fred asked confused, "what do you mean?"

"There was a rumor going along the train, that they were going to floo us from the station and while we were being processed home they were going to round up undesirables," Ginny explained, her words quicker than normal. "We didn't even know we were going to be floo'd until we got to the station. They broke us into groups—Luna got separated from Neville and I—"

Fred felt his insides tighten. He looked at Remus. "Have we heard from Luna? I didn't see Xeno at the station—"

"No," Ginny answered but her face bore the expression of someone realizing an unwelcome truth. "You don't think something's happened to Luna, do you?"

Fred read Remus' face and it seemed to answer his questions for him. He flicked his eyes to Tonks who seemed to understand it too.

She gave a weak smile to Ginny, "I think Remus and I just need to check over across the hill quick. Just make sure everything's alright."

"I want to come to," Ginny said, standing up and tucking her wand in her pocket. "Now Ginny—" their mother started.

"We'll be quick Ginny," Remus said, "Merely a precaution . If something has happened we'll come right back. If nothing happened we'll be right back. But if there's a chance they're kidnapping students it's best we keep you here for now—at least while we help Xeno."

Ginny didn't look the least bit amused, She slipped galleon out of her pocket and Fred could sense she was sending a message out. Maybe just to Neville, maybe the entire DA she had resurrected-or maybe in vain a plea to Luna.

Remus reached around for his wife's hand. "Fred and I could go, you stay here with Molly" his last words more a suggestion than an order. Fred sensed he was still on thin ice with Tonks.

"Are you kidding? There aren't many things I can do for the Order anymore," Tonks said her eyes fleeting down to the tiny belly nudging against her jacket, "I still have clearance to do house calls. Besides, if there has been a kidnapping I can have him file a missing persons case and we can start tracking it in the office."

"Can I do anything?" Fred asked helplessly. His plan to save Luna laid in ruins. There would be another name added to the list of the missing tonight in Potterwatch, her's. And it's because you weren't quick enough—

"I have a letter to Bill that needs be owled," Remus said, digging into his jacket, "Kingsley's report."

"Isn't he on the run now?" Fred asked, remembering his fathering telling him a harrowing escape from snatchers in Bristol.

"Of course he is, but he still has eyes in the Ministry. This is his list of tip offs for Gringotts in the New Year."

Fred took the padded letter and tucked it into his jacket. He leaned close to Remus so his mother wouldn't hear what he said next.

"George and Lee are going to do a broadcast tonight. Can you-"

"Meet them and provide an update?" Remus finished, nodding with a smile, "Of course, Romulus will be there," and, clapping Fred's shoulder, Remus and Tonks disappeared out the door, while his mother locked it behind them. She turned to face her children with a weak smile. "Are you going to stay for supper? After all, it's Christmas Eve."

"No," Fred said his hand covering his breast pocket, "I ought to get this to Bill."

"He won't be off for hours yet," His mother sighed, "I'll make you a sandwich. How about you Ginny?"

Ginny's answer was the sound of feet having already turned up the landing, her bedroom door slamming shut. Fred noticed how worn his mother's face was.

"She's not going to be pleasant till she knows about Luna," Fred said knowingly, "Maybe it wouldn't hurt—I could go with her, Remus and Tonks—we'd more than out number then."

"No," she said, tutting her teeth as she strood into the kitchen. "I know I can't control what you and your brothers do for the order, but I won't lose what hold I have over what your sister does."

"Mum—"

She shot him a dirty look, "you know she hasn't been able to write anyone in the family this term? How can she with them rifling through the mail the way they're doing," She asked looking at him, " I don't have the slightest idea what's going through my daughters mind right now. What she's seen, what she's had to go through with the Carrows—"

"No Fred. I can't keep her safe out there but I can here," his mother's voice wavered. She stood up and headed to the sink to fiddle with a dish, "She'll open up when she's ready and I'll be here when she does. You kids always do."

Fred rose from the table and walked over to his mother, sneaking a hug, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her hair. "You're too good to us Mum," he muttered, giving her a squeeze. "Georgie and I'll be over first thing tomorrow morning, we have something late tonight."

She reached up and patted his cheek, "Be careful," she sighed, "I know you won't but do try."

"For you mum, always," he winked as he turned and walked out the door, disappearing with a soft pop once he crossed the Burrow's Boundary line.

((*))

"Knock Knock" Fred said allowed as he cautiously opened the door of Shell Cottage. "It's Fred, your little brother," he called again entering the living room, he turned his head to the hallway, muttering to himself "Are you decent?"

He has shied away from visiting Bill for a while now, but with good reason. Having had George walk in on him and Hermione, he hasn't wanted to continue the Great Weasley tradition of killing the mood. But as far as he could tell, Bill and Fleur weren't home. He crossed the small living room to the clock Auntie Muriel has given them, identical to their mothers. Sure enough, Bill was shown still at work while Fleur was straddled between "Home" and "Mortal Peril."

Maybe she was up stairs having a lie down. Or across the yard in their tiny little hen house. Either way, Fred could smell something delightful coming from the kitchen and he would be a bad guest if he didn't go to inquire, at the very least to determine if there was a fire risk.

He cut into the dining room and saw there were three places set at the table. A sliver of warmth spread through him. Somehow that delightful sister of his knew he was coming. Or maybe mum and sent a note. He hadn't come straight to shell cottage, there was a good twenty minutes he went back to the shop, told George everything he knew and help right notes for that night's Potterwatch.

Either way, a miracle had happened and he'd be staying for dinner. He could take that.

Still smiling he stepped through the door to the kitchen where his smile suddenly stopped.

Sitting on the cupboard, flipping through the Evening Prophet sat Ron.

Ron was here.

And if Ron was here…

"You're here!" Even he was surprised by how exuberantly happy his voice was. Ron's head popped up from behind the paper and his eyes stared widely at him, unsure.

"Where's the others?" Fred asked, now crossing the kitchen to look in the pantry. It made so much sense why he hadn't seen Bill and Fleur. It wasn't newlywed bless, they were hiding the trio. You could hardly have company when hosting the two most wanted people in the country. "Hermione in the hen house with Fleur? Where's Harry?"

"There not here" said Ron firmly folding his paper to a crease before tossing it across the cupboard.

That isn't right, this doesn't make sense.

So they weren't here. They must have gone for a walk. Weird as the sun was already down low on the horizon. Hardly ideal. And the surf was too strong.

"Is the seaside safe for them? Bill has wards on the local property but—"

"I said they're not here," Ron said broodily, his eyes throwing darts of malice towards him.

Something was wrong. The exuberant joy was fading fast. An ice chill was replacing it, sending his neck hairs on edge.

"If they aren't here, where are they Ron?" The chill gave way to rising flames of anger, "and why aren't you with them?"

Ron hopped off the cupboard and started walking towards the dining room, Fred on his heels. "Where are they Ron?" He asked again, "where's Harry and Hermione?"

Ron turned around sharply, " We had a row and I left, ok?" He growled, " I left and when I finally got back they were gone."

"You left them?" Fred asked, still trying to compute what he was actually hearing. "You has a squabble and you left? What was so important that you—"

"You stole Hermione," Ron growled squaring up with Fred as though he was debating a blow, "You mucked up everything you—"

"You mean to tell me you left because you found out about Hermione and I?" Fred said, all good humor gone from his expression, "You sodding idiot Ron—"he laughed darkly, "do you have any idea how much of an-"

He was going to say 'bleeding idiot you are' but Ron's fist collided with Fred jaw before he could get it out.

Fred stumbled to the side, catching himself on the kitchen table. He raised his fingers to gingerly touch the spot and felt the blood trickling from a busted lip.

He made eye contact with Ron who seemed shocked at the scene, his clenched fist still shaking.

Fred stood back up and headed to the back door, grabbing Ron's collar and dragging him with him to the back yard.

"What are you playing at?" Ron asked, struggling, trying to grab a door frame, anything that would give him a leverage back into the house

"I'm not beating you to a pulp in Fleurs dining room," Fred said stopping outside, the little flickering lights from the outdoor lamps dancing, casting shadows on both their faces. He let go of Ron's shoulder, " But I'll do it here," he said and took a swing at Ron's head.

Unfortunately he had ducked and started running back to the house, Fred whipped out his wand, yelling "Stupefy," as Ron fell backwards. "Colloshoo" he said, watching as His brothers feet planted them self in the sandy earth.

He didn't hesitate. Fred's fist collided with Ron's Jaw with a solid thump. Because of the hex, he didn't fall to either side, but rather rocked back and forth like one of those punching clowns you'd find at a carnival.

He hit him a second time for good measure, and started bringing his hand back for a third when he stopped mid swing.

She wouldn't want this. Damn her. She wouldn't want this and she wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he continued.

"Alright, enlightened one," Fred said as Ron struggled to regain his balance, "You were telling me why you idiotically left your two best mates on their mission to stop Lord Volds," his voice was light but they both knew the edge, "and please come up with something more original than your feelings were hurt Hermione didn't like you."

Ron's face was still a rage. "We were camping and overheard Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in the woods," he said, "know anything about them?"

"Their working on a project with Lee, trying to find people we missed on evacs," Fred brushed the words away as casually as he had said them, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"They were telling some other muggle born on the run how you and Hermione were the brains behind the evacuation, those passports" Ron sputtered, dabbing the blood from his face. Fred's throw must have been stronger than he thought, it was Ron's nose, not lip that was bleeding. "They made it sound like you guys had been cozy for a while-"

"So you left your best friends because of two busy bodies gossiping in the woods," Fred said, his words dipped with vile, throwing his shoulder back and mocking another swing. "Still not making sense Ickle Ronniekins."

"You knew I liked her Fred. Hell, even Seamus and Dean knew that-"

"I did," Fred responded simply, "And she did too. But guess what, she didn't like you. If she had, do you think she'd have gone along with me?"

Fred understood the irony of his words. Hadn't he accused her, when he had left her, that she had kept their relationship quiet so when he died she could go on with Ron as previously? But Ron didn't know that. And Fred didn't find himself in the mood to disclose such. He wanted Ron to feel as miserable as he imagined Hermione had felt. And maybe Harry too. But also him. Fred wanted Ron to feel a bit of the misery he had felt since that night last summer.

"She's not a piece in your wizard chess board that you can control Ron. She's Hermione. And she doesn't belong to either of us. She belongs to herself," he spat, "And after the way we acted, do you honestly think we bloody well deserve her?"

Fred waved his wand so Ron had control of his feet again. His hands were still in fists but Fred knew the danger was past. Ron's anger was a hot flash in the beginning and would fade. He wasn't like Charlie who could keep it burning like dragon fire. "I was trying to prove myself," Ron said, his voice shaking, "when we were at school I found her one day-it was after Lavender and I had broken up and I thought-I thought we could make it work and she told me she didn't know me anymore. That she couldn't trust me like she had before-"

"To be fair you threw away your shots when you got together with Lavender-"

"I know that," Ron snarled, glaring at him. He walked over and sat on the bench near Fred, looking out to the sea. "But I thought if I made an effort-if I tried harder then maybe we could still work out. And then you-" he looked up at his brother, glaring, his voice a mix of emotion, "You-"

"We didn't really realize what was happening, I don't think," Fred tried simply. Closing the gap and sitting on the other side of the bench. "She had reached out about a product idea over the summer and we turned into unlikely pen pals-and I couldn't help it, I went on that first Hogsmead weekend to look at buying Zonkos and ran into her instead. Falling for Hermione was like when you wake up and you open your eyes and everything gradually comes into focus, and once it was focused, everything was vibrant and more beautiful than you had remembered the day before" Fred said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned his face to the sea so Ron would find it.

What we'd do for the war effort came into focus, Fred thought what we could do together as a team, all of it clicked. And we didn't just click with the war, we clicked with life-

Ron didn't say anything. At least not in that moment. His fists were no longer clenched. He didn't look like he wanted to smash Fred's skull in, but they were far from a brotherly embrace.

"Harry said you two had ended things?" Ron asked, no emotion eminating from his voice, "Is that true too?"

"We had a row, right before you lot left," Fred said quietly, his words almost getting lost in the breaking of waves on the shore below them. "I said some things I shouldn't have. I was a bastard-didn't even let her say a word in her defense-"

"Her defense-what happened?" Ron asked, turning his head to Fred.

"That's between Hermione and me," Fred said quickly, "All you need to know is that I was a prat and if she ever wants to speak to me again its more than I deserve."

Ron nodded, returning his eyes to the sea. He waited a moment and then turned to Fred, carefully measuring his words "Think the two of you will get back together when this is over?"

"If we do it's because Hermione wants to," Fred answered simply, "Just like if she decides she wants to be with you, she will. But it's her choice Ronnie, it's only our's if she asks us along."

Ron cradled his head in his arms and groaned. Fred knew that feeling, and he knew it well. If he had been a better brother he would have put his arm on Ron's shoulder but he was too angry still.

"So how are you going to go back?" Fred asked, "You're going back right? You're not going to just hide with the honeymooners for the rest of the war right?"

'I don't know how," Ron moaned, still hiding his head, "I tried, as soon as I got a way from the snatchers that first night I tried to find them but they had already left. And the charms Hermione puts up, I'll never find them."

"That's not good enough Ron," Fred said, "They need you. You have-"

"You don't think I'm not trying?" Ron asked, his voice pinched. "Every day I'm combing through the Prophet looking for clues-listening to Potterwatch-I'm doing what I can-"

"Try harder then," Fred growled, "Be better. Find them."

Because in another life you get the girl, and you don't deserve her.

The thought made the acid from his stomach bubble up in bile up his throat. This time he did clap his hand on Ron's shoulder, but it wasn't in brotherly kindness. If anything, he was pinching too hard on his joint for it to be confused with brother kindness. "We don't have a third person here or I would make this an unbreakable vow," Fred said evenly, staring down his brother, "But I need you to promise me that you will find them. And that this time, you won't leave them. And that you do everything in your power to keep Hermione Granger safe, mentally, emotionally and physically. Hermione's happiness and safety is the only thing that matters."

"What about Harry and-"

"Fine, make her your second priority," Fred grumbled. You don't deserve her, he thought, his temper boiling. How many times had he offered to let her stay at the shop rather than go on this suicide misison. How many times had he tried to come up with other creative options that would keep them together. He was still prepared to let the world burn if that meant he could live with her in isolated peace in a cottage on an island for however long they had left.

"I'll just tell you this Ron, Hermione doesn't suffer fools," he said firmly, "She might give you a second chance, but she'll never give you a third. If she decides to give you her heart, just know you'll have more than Harry to answer to if you screw this up."

And if I survive this war, I will do everything I can to ensure you screw this up.

"I promise," Ron said, staring at Fred, " I promise, I'll keep her safe."

Fred did pinch his shoulder as he broke the embrace. He got up from the bench and headed back to the house, his emotions over everything in the last half hour still simmering as though on a slow boil.

"Wait, where are you going?" as Ron trying to catch up from behind, "Bill should be home soon. We could have dinner and-"

"I need to go," Fred said simply, opening the door and headed towards the fireplace. Ron was close behind him. He took the letter from his pocket and put it on a dinner plate for Bill before he strolled into the living room.

"Fred-" he started. Fred looked and could see the dry trail of blood from his brother's nose. Truth be told, he was lucky he hadn't broken it. He did have a bruise on his cheek though Fleur would probably magic away after dinner.

Fred already had the powder scooped in his hand. "What is it Ron?"

Ron rocked on the balls of his feet. He seemed nervous. "Nevermind," he shrugged, digging his hands in his pockets. "Stay safe."

"You keep her safe," Fred ordered firmly, "You'll live to regret it if you don't."

He should have thrown in a wink but he wasn't in the mood. He simply dropped the powder in the flames and allowed himself to be consumed in them.

((*))

The flat was still and he could see where George had left a light on above the kitchen sink for him. He was staying at Granger house with Lee tonight after the broadcast, he'd be alone until he came back tomorrow, before they left to the Burrow for Christmas.

He raised his wand and extinguished the light. Shuffling down the hall he reached his room, turned on the light and threw himself on the bed, his thoughts thundering like his heart. It was a thunderous rage about Ron, Hermione, about everything he had done to create her second time around absolute shit.

He left her. Ron had left her. Just like he had. Maybe all Weasley's were cursed to leave Hermione if the chance presented itself. Hell, even Charlie would probably leave her, for a dragon of all things, the shining hope of family redemption going up in dragon flames around him.

He stretched his arm to pull her journal from under the pillow and reaching for a quill by his bedside table he wrote the code and watched her secrets scribble out before him as he began painstakingly going through the pages trying to see if he had missed this.

If he had known Ron would leave, he would have gone to Shell cottage months ago. Hadn't he made excuses to not see Bill and Fleur? Something about not wanting to interrupt their newlywed bliss? Apparently that hadn't mattered to Ron. But obviously nothing mattered to Ron. Fred was damn well convinced if anything Ron didn't matter, the hell with whatever he had said otherwise an hour ago.

He ran through the pages for the fall of 1997 once and then once again. Nothing. She hadn't committed those words to page. She hadn't warned him Ron would leave. Perhaps this was his fault.

No, a voice that sounded like hers peeled in his head, I didn't tell you in as many words. Look closer.

He flipped through a third time and noticed that beginning in her November and most of her December notes, Ron was absent. Harry had helped knick eggs from the hen house. Harry had danced with her to the radio. Harry and Hermione would be in Godric's Hollow this week, not Ron. Harry's wand would break—poor bugger—and Hermione would apparate them out, them just being her and Harry.

There was a note, say Ron's name Christmas morning, she had scribbled, brings destroyed horcrux for breakfast.

That word again, he really needed to ask Fleur about it next time he saw her. He hadn't the foggiest what it was, but to Hermione of days gone by it must have seemed like a bouquet of roses brought to her by the most pathetic git in all of England.

He'd go back, Fred was sure of that. Ron was probably afraid what would happen to him if Fred has found out he hasn't. And with any luck, Ron would make such an apology that should Fred's luck run out, Hermione might still have her fairytale love. But should your luck hold, you've just sent your rival to her—

No matter, she needed her friend. Harry needed his friend. The trio was best when it was complete, at least that's how it had always been with he, George and Lee. And if they were together, if they had the mysterious sword, maybe they could end this all the sooner.

Fred rolled on his side, tossing the diary behind him. His eyes lazily fell on her gift, the one George had given him yesterday and the one he had resolved to not open till they were together again.

You're not the Weasley brother she hates the most, he thought to himself. He had been too gallant yesterday. If anything, the last few hours had shown him he really wasn't. He would do anything, give anything to get to reunite with her like Ron got to. He would have done absolutely anything in that moment to know he had a moment in the future with Hermione Granger.

He got up, and with a shadow of his old swagger walked to the dresser and retrieved the gift. He tore the wrapping paper and a folded piece of parchment fell to the floor. He shook off the rest of the wrappings before bending down to pick it up, her tiny, familiar loops and scrawl rushing before his eyes like the vibrant pull of lilac blossoms.

My dearest Fred,

I know you're not pleased with the arrangements for this term. I hope that this will make it easier for you. Just think of your Sunny and you'll find I'm not too far away, and I promise I never will be.

Also don't be a perve, you're better than that.

When I see you next it'll be for forever. Until then love, take care and know I love you,

Hermione

His eyes were stinging and he thought he could trace the faintest hint of sunshine, lilacs and honey lingering in the room. The softest touch and she was home, her love sprawled out before his eyes on a tiny piece of parchment.

Gingerly, he placed the parchment on the dresser and took the gift in his hands again, opening the box. Inside in tissue paper laid a silver hand mirror with small roses at the top and along the frame. She had taped another message to the face, Give the Werewolf Water Buffalo a Hullo from me.

It took only the slightest moment and then his face cracked into its first genuine smile in months. "Show me the girl," he said, the words tripping out of him so quickly they came in a jumble. "Show me Hermione."

The mirror turned misty and then dark. He extinguished his own light, hoping it would let him see her better. Crouched on his bed, he could see her, outlined at first and then more clearly. She was sitting on the ground at the mouth of the tent her face bathed in moonlight, snow around her, her wand out—she was obviously on watch. She was swallowed in blankets and he could see a blue sweater, one of his, under her coat. Her hair was longer now, a soft bob of curls framing her face. He noticed her face was thinner than it had been last he saw her. That wasn't what concerned him most. It was the ghost of tears that still stained her face.

"Hermione," he whispered, his fingers tracing the outline of her head. Her eyes looked empty; she looked so tired, like they had when they had come home from Majorca. Why was she crying, had she and Harry been fighting? Or did she miss Ron? Did she miss him?

" Oh Granger," her voice whispered to the night breaking against the cold into a sob, "What are you thinking?"

((*))

Hermione pulled the blanket tightly around her as she gazed into the distance. She was exhausted. The day had been draining and she was sure it wasn't quite over yet.

They had just escaped from Godric's Hollow. Again, by the skin of their teeth. It had been different this time. This time, she had convinced Harry they shouldn't go with Bathilda. Said something felt off, that they should make her speak at the Potter's House, force the confrontation there.

All that had done was accelerate matters. The snake had only put up with their stubborn refusals to follow her for two minutes before she started shedding her skin. She had pulled Harry back and they ran into James and Lily's ruins. Harry had tripped on an uneven step between the kitchen and living room snapping his wand and crashing his head hard against the wall. Again, she has grabbed the remains of the wand and her friend and apparated out before the snake could summon Voldemort or finish them off personally.

Harry was asleep in his cot, head bandaged and out cold. If memory served right he'd wake up in the morning and she'd have to give him his broken wand as a Christmas gift.

Well not just that. You have stuff to make a proper Christmas stew—she thought. And her stores still had enough for fresh dinner rolls like her mum made. But it wouldn't be the same. It would just be another cold night in Yorkshire, only one where they went to bed with full bellies.

She and Harry had been more talkative this time around. They had found a radio station that talked about Quidditch which was surprisingly still being played, at least on a regional level. Apparently the Chudley Cannons weren't too bad if they didn't have to play against the Pride of Portree or Puddlemere. They had destroyed a dad's league and just barely lost to the rising stars team made out of Cornwall.

Harry enjoyed listening to the Quidditch, at the base minimum it was a good distraction for him. And Hermione made more of an effort to understand and follow along. After quidditch, Harry would make them a cuppa and Hermione would pull out the waning tin of biscuits. Sometimes they'd leave the music on, other nights they'd turn it off. But any night Harry could sense her shadows creeping in on her, they'd dance around the kitchen before heading to bed.

Suffice it to be said, they had gotten very good at dancing.

The last time this had happened it had been about a week ago. She had been doing alright until the radio stopped playing one song and interrupting it with a banjo and a warm welcoming voice crooning out "You are my sunshine." It was the exact recording her parents had owned, the one she remembered listening to when she was a child. She had never told Harry the name Fred had for her, but he recognized her face turn and knew he was on her mind. "Come on," he said. "I'm getting better, haven't stepped on your toes once this week."

"Ginny will be so proud," she smiled as he attempted a twirl.

"Oi, dancing's a lot less stressful when your not a school champion," he smiled.

"I know," she answered her voice falling for a moment, "it just depends on your partner."

He didn't really push it much more that night. She didn't need to say it, he knew damn well who she wished she was dancing with.

She turned her eyes from the distance to her bag, waving her wand for a little envelope that zoomed to her hand. It had been a gift from George before she left. He thought she might need a pick me up having to deal with Harry and Ron for the foreseeable future. He had simply winked and told her everyone needed a day dream and as she opened it, the little Carmel colored candy wrapped in the familiar Weasley purple she decided a Christmas Day dream was just the ticket.

All the defenses were up. She knew no one would come tonight. Harry was out cold. Why did she have to bear the brunt of being alone? It was Christmas morning after all.

Carefully unwrapping the candy, she took a deep breath closed her eyes and allowed herself to get carried away.

((*))

When she opened her eyes, she was still sitting at the mouth of the tent, staring out into the woods. A light dusting of snow was falling on them and Hermione looked with childlike wonder as little snow pixies seemed to twirl around the trees and streams, covering them both with a mist of frost.

This wasn't exactly the day dream she had thought she'd get. She had thought perhaps a Library like in Beauty and the Beast. Or perhaps the two of them in a hammock in Majorca. But it was nice all the same to see pixies dance in the moonlight, observing the simple pattern they followed as they swirled round about her.

"Oh good snow pixies," a voice said from her side, making her jump. She turned and there, coming to her with two mismatched mugs, wearing a blue jumper identical to the one she wore then was Fred. He had a goofy muggle jacket he must have picked up from his latest thrift store run with Lee and a long scarf wrapped around his neck. His cheeks were red like his hair, which she could see in the moonlight. And that impish look in his eyes, the one she loved so well, was still there, happy to see her.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, taking the warm hot chocolate in her hands, "You-"

"It's just a daydream love," Fred said, tucking an unruly short curl behind her ear, "and one Georgie made before the break up so, I'm sorry."

"How do you know about that if George made this before the break up?" Hermione asked.

"The day dream charms are half fantasy and half reality of the taker," Fred explained. "Your attractive, favorite Weasley twin joining you for a romantic star gazing session-that would be the fantasy," he said with a wink, "But you and your memories of the break up, they're-err-becoming my shared memories, so I know about that and the fantasy bit is going to be me trying to get you to look past that and still enjoy the charm?"

Hermione squinted her eyes and looked at her imposter closely before shaking her head and drinking the coco. "Remarkable Magic the bastards," she muttered to herself shaking her head, "Absolutely remarkable."

She could feel his arm tentatively reach around her pulling close. She knew he wasn't real, but it felt like he was. He was warm next to her. He smelt like the woodsy pine and gunpowder she knew so well. He even adjusted as he would to her head falling on his shoulder.

"I miss him," she said quietly. She hadn't admitted that outloud. It was always something she kept in. She knew Harry missed Ginny and they both missed Ron. But missing Fred was something she faced every day.

"I know," her day dream muttered, softly above her ear, "I bet the world he does too."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, "I'm not so sure about that."

"Oh come on, the two of us?" Fred said, pointing first to Hermione and then himself, "He misses you Hermione. No break up could be that bad where he'd-"

She shook her head, "Let's talk about something else," she started, "Tell me about the store at Christmas time-what are they doing?"

"George's sneaking in gnomes from the garden and dressing them up as Father Christmas for the windows," the day dream said, a laugh suppressed in his words, "It's going to work out for a few hours until they start damaging the glass. But it'll look good till then."

She laughed, an actual genuine laugh, "Sounds nice," Hermione smiled, "I can see that going over well with the other folks on the alley.

"They haven't ran us out of town yet," Fred smirked squeezing his arm around her, "But it's only a matter of time. The manager of Flourish and Blotts reminds me of Percy honestly-"

She swatted his knee and took a drink of her cocoa. "What else or is it just Gnome Father Christmases?"

"We're going to have a few pygmy puffs pulling little sleighs around I think," he said with a smile, "I wanted to ask Dobby to come as one of Father Christmas' elves but I don't know if we can get away with it now that Snape's head. Dumbledore would have been all for it but given the change-"

"That's understandable," Hermione said "Have we heard anything out of the castle yet?"

"Oh you know, same as last time," Fred said, his voice quieter now. "Sounds like that first Hogsmead weekend a good number tried to make a run for it. Five or so got away. From the sounds of Ginny's Letter, Neville is the only Seventh Year Boy left in Gryffindor Tower."

She shook her head, "Poor Neville," Hermione sighed.

"Yeah, poor Nev, but come on, let's talk about Happier things," said Fred, patting down a curl, "What do you want Father Christmas to give you this year?"

She raised an eyebrow and looked him over, "Fred, we're on the run. I'm making Harry and I a Christmas stew and my mother's buns. Father Christmas is missing us this year."

"Good point," Fred sighed, "But if he was coming, what would you ask for?"

She tilted her head for a minute and thought. "Does it have to be a thing? Or could it be a wish?"

"That's between you and Father Christmas," Fred started, "I'm just the elf that's asking."

She grinned and leaned into his head, "I'd wish that this was all over. And that our water was below a bridge and we could spend a few weeks in Majorca, just the two of us."

He whistled low, "That's a pretty big wish."

"That's between me and Father Christmas," she smirked back at him. "What about you, what do you want Father Christmas to bring you?"

"You," he said simply and honestly. His arm that was around her bent in such a way he could fold his fingers into hers. His thumb running along her finger tips. "Just you. And we could sort everything out and go to the theater or Majorca or Australia-wherever you want to go. Anywhere you go, I'll go too."

She leaned into his shoulder, feeling his lips against her head, "I wish I could do that this year," she muttered into the night, "But I think-I think that'll have to wait till next year."

"I'll take an IOU," Fred said with a grin looking down at her, "but you have to promise. Next year or you're going to be doomed to sitting next to Percy at all major family events once he finally gets his head out of his ass."

"Deal" she beamed looking up at him, She turned her eyes to the horizon. The Snow Pixies were gone, their winter wonderland laid before them. But there was a silvery glow in the distance.

"Fred, what's that?" Hermione asked squinting into the night.

"I'm not sure," he said, standing and taking a few steps forward, "Can you tell?"

She rose and joined his side. It was a different glow than there had been with the pixies. "Do you have your wand?" Fred asked, "I'm just a daydream, I'm literally worthless if you're walking toward danger."

She pulled out her wand and the two walked forward, hand in hand towards the silver. "Think its the moonlight and ice?" Hermione asked as they made their progress.

"I don't know it almost looks like something magical," Fred started, "And it's familiar. If I was the real Fred I think I'd have it figured out by now."

They cleared a log and Hermione got a good clear look of it. It was a silvery doe walking in the moonlight, crossing the scene before her. She had never seen the doe before, just heard what Harry had told her that morning when had brought home Ron and the sword.

But there it was, clear as day, walking across the meadow and mimicking drinking as it reached the pond.

"I know what this is Fred," Hermione said beaming, she turned but Fred was gone. She had to admit, she felt a pang of emptiness knowing he was gone. She knew he had never been there but it had felt like he was. And they were better together-if this is what I think it is-

Hermione looked over the pond where the doe had been drinking. Carefully, she stepped out on the ice and walked forward, light eminating from her wand.

She gingerly walked over and looked down. There, the light caught rubies that had been submerged under the frozen water. She gasped as she saw Gryffindor's Sword lay mere meters below her feet.

AN: I feel like I ought to apologize...a good chunk of this chapter was written on an elliptical and cell phone at the gym. I've gone over it a couple times, but in the event of grammatical errors, err-sorry.

Fred and Ron's confrontation didn't have near as much muggle dueling as I had originally thought. I'm ok where it ended up but know in the first draft Ron lost a tooth. I thought that *might* be a bit much (But lets be honest...).

And it's Christmas in July! More Fred than I had originally planned for, but Hermione gets her time in the limelight next. Next Chapter will continue where we left off, someone is soon to be coming home and danger lurks in the distance for those of Granger House. . . (*spoilers!*)

I'm travelling again later this month so my hope is we'll be on track for an end of July/Start of August update. Thank you for all the love, support and clever insight you all have towards this story. 700+ Reviews later, I would never have thought nearly four years later, I'd still be working on this little story. So Thank you for keeping me on this ride and making it the best.

Cheers!

~KH