Once again, thank you for all the reviews/follows/favourites! This the second last chapter :)) Thank you so much GardenOfSnow for your amazing suggestions (that I have once again used)
Chapter Four
Parallels
Hermione blinked a few times to get used to her surroundings. Back she was, exactly where she started off –in Dumbledore's old office. She still felt struck between two different worlds – struck between two different Freds. There was the Fred back at Grimmauld Place – young, happy, carefree, until she piled on him his fate. And there was the Fred who she hoped had made it – the Fred she hoped was equally happy and carefree.
"Miss Granger?"
The voice drew Hermione out from her thoughts and startled her. There was Professor McGonagall, wearing the same old robes and spectacles she always did.
"I wasn't aware of you visiting. I presumed you were at home..." Professor McGonagall, although she seemed pleased, looked confused. Hermione frowned. She had come back to Hogwarts to complete her Seventh Year – wouldn't McGonagall be aware of that?
Then realization hit her as she peered over at the moving calendar.
June 5th.
The picture was pretty – a glorious landscape decorated with daffodils and tulips. She turned her head slightly to her right, directly out the stained-glass window. Hogwarts seemed to be in good condition, despite being almost completely destroyed – if she was right – only a mere month before.
If she remembered correctly, Hermione had come back after the month, a complete wreck, informing McGonagall of her returning to Hogwarts when the new year came.
"I-I... wanted to tell you that I will be coming back in September to finish my N.E.W.T.S."
McGonagall's smile could have lit the whole room up. "That is magnificent news!" She suddenly looked hesitant. "But are you sure, Miss Granger? I know it must be difficult for you to return after losing..."
Hermione's heart sank. Had all she done been in vain? Did Fred – reckless as he was – die?
Swallowing slowly, she muttered, "Y-yes, I am positive, Professor."
The smile returned onto Professor McGonagall's face. "It will be a delight to have you back. You cannot even to start to imagine how much I've missed teaching you."
"Thank you, Professor."
McGonagall nodded, and she looked at Hermione, sadness once again filling her eyes. "You are very brave, Hermione. I'm really sorry for so many..." she paused.
There was only one question on her mind. Was Fred alive? Was Fred alive?
McGonagall gave her the weakest of smiles. "Well, Miss Granger, it is too dark for you to go back now. Would you like a room for the night?" McGonagall asked. When Hermione nodded, she pointed outwards. "You can take the Head Girl's room. You will be very comfortable there."
"Once again, thank you." Hermione said. "I will Floo back first thing tomorrow."
"No worries, dearest. Now, I have a few things to sort out here and there. Go get yourself cleaned up and the dormitory is just around the corner. The password is 'victory'." Professor McGonagall's eyes twinkled. "Goodnight, Hermione."
Hermione returned the farewell, smiling politely.
"And Hermione? When you get back home, do give my best to all the Weasleys." McGonagall said. "They have been through so much – especially with almost losing dear Frederick... I heard... Is he doing alright?"
Hermione looked up alarmed. She thought of a quick lie - "Y-yes, he's doing g-great."
"That's good to hear." McGonagall gave her one last smile, before trodding off.
When McGonagall left the office, Hermione almost exploded with joy. Happiness filled every fibre of her being; it even overcame all her pain and grief caused by the war and Fred's previous death. But now - Fred was safe and alive.
Finally, after all those months of heavy grief, she felt as light as a feather, earning for the happiness that had been taken away from her. Her fingers slid into her pocket, and she took out the final thing that was lashing her to the horrors of the past – the time-turner. This was the end. She would leave it here, in that very same hole in that very same place – where it belonged.
Suddenly, she caught sight of the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. He was not smiling.
All of the words came rushing to her head.
Miss Granger, if this is what you are planning to do, you must know there are consequences.
Slowly and unwillingly, she let the time-turner slide back down into her pocket. Perhaps, it is not time yet. Perhaps.
She made a promise to herself – she'd take it back and place it in its original place - just until she was certain there was no more to worry about.
And without looking into Dumbledore's eyes, she rushed out of the office and down to the Head Girl's dorm.
"Victory." she mumbled, and the doors opened. She collapsed onto the bed almost the second she was in.
And for the first time in almost a year, she dreamt of happy things.
Her mind melted away to the summer before her Sixth Year.
Hermione felt like punching someone. Or at least, really, really hurting someone. That "someone" being Frederick Gideon Weasley, or in other words, the most annoying prat ever to have roamed the planet. And she'd been one to think that everything had been sorted out between the two only the day before.
Hermione rubbed her newly-made black eye, only stopping to wince at the sudden shot of pain.
"Yez, I 'eard from Beell that Fred and George are very amuzing!" Fleur said delightfully in front of her, Ron and Harry.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, I can hardly breathe."
Three owls flew in, dropping three identical envelopes on their breakfast plates.
"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione said frantically, waving her arms all over the place. "It's our O.W.L.S results! It's... it's... aghh!"
"Chill, Hermione." Ron laughed at her, nudging Hermione playfully, leaving her rather taken aback. He'd never acted like this before.
"He's right, 'Mione," said Harry. "don't you worry – you'll do absolutely splendidly."
Hermione calmed herself down, nimbly moving her fingers across the sealed wax. Tension filled the air, so thick that it could literally be hammered down. Hermione sighed in relief as she saw the long list O's. Only one E was there - for DADA. She couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed.
"Well," Harry started. "do okay, you two?"
Ron laughed, picking up a pear from the fruit bowl. "So-so."
"Not b-bad..." Hermione mumbled.
"Well, I think we should go treat ourselves to Fred and George's new shop!" exclaimed Ron.
Fleur grinned. "I'll tell Beell! Oh and 'Ermione, you steell 'ave that 'orrendous black eye."
"Thank you, Fleur, I was almost able to forget about that." Hermione said through gritted teeth.
The walk to 93 Diagon Alley was the most tedious thing Hermione had ever experienced. There was Ron, Harry and Ginny talking about the oh so brilliant wonders of Quidditch, and there was Phlegm blabbing nonstop about some chateau in France before stopping to giggle, "Oh, 'ow 'andsome iz Beell?"
Hermione's jaw dropped open as she saw the shop. Shelves and shelves of products - it really was extraordinary.
"Hello!" Fred and George appeared behind them.
Hermione gritted her teeth. "Hello."
"Oh, what happened to your eye?" Fred asked, gesturing to Hermione's black eye.
"Your wonderful in every way Punching Telescope. Get it off now – I refuse to walk around like a demented clown for the rest of my life." Hermione said indignantly. "Frederick Gideon Weasley."
"Sorry, Herms, come with me, I'll give you some healing balm. Ah – Georgie, come give Scarface a tour, will you?" Fred took Hermione into one of the back store cupboards. "I missed you."
"I would've if one of your products didn't end up on my face. Why not Phlegm?" Hermione whined.
"Sorry." grinned Fred, before leaning in for a kiss. Before they knew it, they were against one of the shelves. Several minutes later they broke apart, Hermione resting her head on his shoulder. "So... your results came?"
"Yes."
"And you got your complete set of Oustandings?" Fred asked.
"Not quite." Hermione said quietly. "I got one Exceeds Expectations. In DADA."
"And you are disappointed?!" exclaimed Fred.
"Shut up." Hermione said. She tiptoed and kissed him again.
"Hermione!" called a voice from outside. Hermione and Fred quickly broke apart, Fred handing her the salve. Harry walked in, looking at the two.
"I… will..." Fred started, and for truly the first time, he was flustered. "Georgie... he... tour... nice?"
Hermione woke up with a smile on her face. Her hands instinctively felt in her back pocket of her Muggle jeans and she pulled out the time-turner, hot and heavy in her hands.
She suddenly felt a pang of regret – what she had done was stupid. Reckless, careless, idiotic, all of it. She'd abandoned the fact that there were going to be severe consequences and she'd taken all the risks without a second glance.
Fred was indeed alive – but what if something else had gone horrifically wrong?
Gulping, she changed quickly and quietly, ready to Floo back over.
And she realised she'd have to face... him. In real life. Not like she hadn't before, but...Fred was alive. He was supposed to have died and now he was alive.
She wasn't sure how on earth she was going to be able to do that.
The Burrow still stood as tall and proud as before, with the occasional gnome nipping around in the lawn. Hermione took three long strides to the entrance.
She knocked once, twice, three times.
A pale and worn-out Molly stood at the door. Tired as she looked, Hermione could see the joy in her eyes. She smiled – she hadn't seen Molly like that. Not since...
"Hermione, darling!" Molly squeezed Hermione in a tight hug. "Did you make it to Hogwarts alright? You weren't completely alone? Nobody tried to hurt you? You weren't alone? You had a nice sleep? Plenty of-"
"Seriously, I'm fine." Hermione said. "I've been gone nine hours."
Molly pulled Hermione into the house, still smiling her warm Molly smile. "Fred's in the kitchen, eating his dessert and taking advantage of being the sick child of the family." she laughed. "You should have seen how many cakes he's just eaten in one gulp - pretty shocking, actually. But I'm sure it's the sign of him getting better."
"That's good," mumbled Hermione. Her heart was steadily growing in pace, her breath shortened and she nervously tapped her fingers on her arm.
Why was this so hard?
She'd be seeing the love of her life again. She'd be seeing him perfectly alive and healthy, just like he had promised to be.
With the final effort she pushed the door and entered the room, her heart still pounding out of her chest. There, at the table, surrounded by bowls of fruit and cake as Molly had said, sat the red-head she had grown to fall in love with. He raised his head and as he caught sight of her, he greeted her with a broad smile.
"Mia!" he exclaimed. "Glad you've made it before I ate all of this up. Have some raspberry pie, will you?"
Hermione was looking back at him, speechless, eyeing every line of his face, every freckle of his face, every wrinkle in his smile. He was here – just as he was supposed to be. Her Fred, alive, beaming and cracking jokes as always. She stood there, frozen, maybe for a little too long. The moment she finally took her eyes off him, she noticed he was gazing back at her with a concerned, perhaps even fearful expression, with a ghost of a smile still lingering on his face.
"I just..." Hermione tried to answer something, anything, to hide the feelings that were overwhelming her. "Yes, of c-course..."
With her eyes downcast and full of tears, she came up to the table and took a seat next to Fred. But he didn't give her the raspberry pie. Instead, he said quietly, "You've just done it... right? Went back in time..."
Hermione looked up at him with an expression unreadable. "How do you know?"
Fred tried to shrug. "You're somehow... different. And... well, I knew it must happen someday, mustn't it?"
Hermione reached for him and let herself almost collapse into his embrace. "I'm s-sorry... I'm so sorry for leaving you..." she sobbed.
"Oh no... please don't cry... I'm absolutely hopeless with crying girls..." Fred looked around, a little uncertainty in his face, before looking back down at Hermione. "Sorry for what? You didn't leave me... You saved my life."
A smile found its way through Hermione's tears. "Yes, I made it," she mumbled, lacing her fingers around his own and breathing in his sweet, seductive scent. Would it be long until she ever got used to it? No... this was life. This was life. She pulled out of his arms gently, just to take another look at his face. "I just... I can't believe it. I... I love you. Never – never – leave again." She kissed him not a second later, sparks igniting at each touch as she let herself sniff and take in the calming scent of freshly mown grass.
"I won't," Fred murmured into the kiss. "And I love you, too."
Her throat was burning, and she needed a nice, cooling drink. She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, only to find Fred face-down on the table, a book balancing on his head. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight; he looked so adorable in the very position.
"Ow..." Fred groaned as he turned his head, the book falling on his face. He moved his head up with a shot, and a look of confusion appeared on his face when he saw Hermione standing in front of him. Embarrassed, he murmured, "Hullo, Mia."
"Hey," Hermione said, hiding the hint of amusement in her voice. Her eyebrows shot up as she turned her gaze to the book placed beside him. Realisation dawned on her as she realised exactly what he was reading. "Emily Dickinson."
Fred snorted. "Yup, with the creative-" Fred stopped short when he saw Hermione's face. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just please, dear god, don't hit me with the wretched book."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're reading."
Fred laughed. "So I am."
"That's..." Hermione's eyes wandered around, searching for a suitable word to fit him.
"Strange? Out of the ordinary? Unbelievable?" Fred suggested, tilting his head at an angle.
"All three equally work well," Hermione plonked herself down onto the seat next to him, picking up to examine the book.
"A nice night-time read." Fred noted, gently taking her hands in his.
"Of course, something you always do." Hermione let out a girly giggle, resting her head on his shoulder. He ran his fingers up her arm, bringing her close to him. "I'm really glad... I'm really glad that we're both right here, right now."
"I'm really glad too." Fred smiled warmly at her, his lips briefly brushing hers. "I love you."
Hermione giggled again, feeling like her sill sixteen-year-old self. "I love you, too." It was silent for a little while. Hermione kept her focus on Fred, once again examining his face. Her eyes met his and his lips crept up. It was a strange combination – the piercing blue and the dark but warm brown. But all the same, it was beautiful. For, maybe the twentieth time (although she'd never get bored of it), she looked up into his blue pools of emotion, this time seeing something completely different. It worried her – all of a sudden, he looked... pained almost.
"Fred?" Hermione asked.
"Mm?" Fred mused, snapping out of his daze.
"Are you alright?"
Fred rubbed his eye. "Fine," he sighed. "really, I'm just a little tired."
Someone else could die.
The words rushed to her head, grasping at every little bit of hope and happiness she had, consuming it. Instead, regret and worry overcame her.
They exchanged a look – a pained look – a look which made them both realise something.
"Mum won't tell me," Fred said reading her mind. "She won't tell me anything. She won't tell me about all those deaths. I guess she thought I couldn't handle it, but then I argued all I had was a broken leg... Yet she won't tell me. She doesn't... know, does she?"
Hermione shook her head fervently. "Of course I didn't tell her." Her voice was laced with fear now. It filled her – she was scared. Frightened. Terrified.
Fred cast his eyes down. "I... I haven't heard from a lot of people since the...war."
Someone else could die.
"Hermione, I can't..." Fred said suddenly. "I can't help not knowing anymore. I need to know who died...if anyone died in my place."
Hermione was reluctant at first, but she realised that she too couldn't help not knowing. "You're right."
Hermione looked out of the window. It was dark, with not a single star in the sky. She looked back towards the man in front of her. Even without words, she knew what he was thinking, as did he for her. They needed to know what happened.
"I'll Apparate," was the last thing she said before she took his arm and they landed in the grass, somewhere far from home. It took a while for them both to get used to the sudden change of atmosphere.
She was here before. For Fred.
Instinctively, she once again felt for the time-turner, which was still safe in her pocket. She sighed in relief. Her eyes darted off into the horizon, stopping at each gravestone. Her gaze drifted off to the far right, which was exactly where Fred once laid, about forty-thousand turns ago.
Except, there was no sign of his name carved into the marble. Instead:
Luna Rosalina Lovegood
1981 - 1998
Luna.
Before her heart began to ache, she turned around to see an identical stone.
Xenophilius Markus Lovegood
1961 - 1998
And that was when the pain hit her. It hit her so hard she stumbled back, straight into Fred's arms. His expression too stayed emotionless, as he read the words on the tombstones.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but the words disappeared from her mouth. The Lovegoods were dead. Gone. Dead.
She turned to Fred with tears brimming in her eyes. She too noticed them lingering in Fred's. Their eyes met for milliseconds, until both tore their gaze away.
They seemed to have lost the will to do anything.
"Ickle Freddie lives."
Hermione and Fred whipped their heads around moments after hearing the voice.
Standing in front of them was unmistakably Bellatrix Lestrange, with her wild, unruly hair and cold, dark eyes filled no emotion but greed. She sneered at the sight of both of them, examining her wand while flexing her muscles.
"And the Mudblood." Bellatrix's smirk widened as she fixed her gaze upon Hermione. "Who is to blame for it. What a nice surprise?"
"You...stay away." Fred immediately took a step in front of Hermione, he too getting his wand out and pointing it straight at the Death Eater. Hermione was beyond confused. She had watched with her own very eyes the killing of Bellatrix.
Bellatrix snarled. "Where is it?"
Hermione's breath got caught up in he throat. "I-I don't know what you're talking about..."
"Yes, you very well do, Mudblood." Bellatrix took a step closer to the couple. "You have the last remaining time-turner on you. Right now."
Fred pointed his wand straight at Bellatrix, before giving Hermione a quick, alarmed expression. "Stay away from her."
"Scared, Freddiekins?" Bellatrix laughed spitefully. "You don't have the guts to kill me. Crucio."
Fred had never felt such pain before – not even when he'd been at the hand of Rookwood. He tumbled onto the moist grass, clutching at his stomach as tight as he possibly could. Hermione screamed and made her way to him, trying to bring him up. He groaned, before Bellatrix shot yet another Unforgivable at him. He was slowly losing consciousness.
Hermione tried to revive him with a small call of his name, hoping to see just a flutter of his eyes, confirming he was okay. He was still alive – but she needed to be sure he was strong enough to stand. She shook his shoulders gently, hoping, hoping...
"Fred..." Hermione whispered. "Please be alright..."
He was, and he tried to scream and shout the words, but they weren't coming out. But he felt it – he felt Hermione's cool hand brush against his cheek.
And just then, one voice screamed, droning out every sound possible. It was louder than Hermione's constant be okay, be okay, be okay.
"Avadakedavra!"
It wasn't Hermione's voice.
And no longer was he able to feel her hand; it was as if a butterfly had just flown away.
His head was still spinning around with the echoes of pain, but he slowly turned around and saw her. Hermione lay only a few feet away, unmoving, with her hair scattered on the ground and her wand still clutched tightly in her hand.
He couldn't believe his eyes. No, he wouldn't. An illusion – that was all it was. After all, he was barely conscious. Somebody's chilling laughter penetrated through the pounding of his heart, but he didn't really hear either of them. It was all an illusion.
Finally, he got himself up, clutching at the ground before moving himself closer to her. He carefully moved a lock of hair from her still beautiful face and touched her skin, hoping – desperately hoping – that she'd wake up. But her skin, little by little, was becoming as cold as the ground she lay upon.
That was when he realised what pain really was. It wasn't Rookwood, it wasn't being tortured and it wasn't being Crucioed. It felt like...it felt like someone had ribbed his heart out into tiny shreds, leaving a hollow abyss in his chest. He straightened up and shot one murderous glare at Bellatrix, who was insanely giggling like a child at the sight she was seeing.
He didn't waste one second.
"Avadakedavra!"
He took her away from the graveyard, the place where she did not belong in. He laid her down by the riverside, smoothing her hair as tears fell onto her clothers. He kissed her so many times, so many times he told her to wake up, to stop playing the game – and so many times she had stayed like that, unmoving. Dead.
He lifted up his gaze at the dim, cold landscape surrounding him and struggled to think about the things he had to do. He had to go back, to tell his family, to tell Harry, to tell her family.
But he couldn't.
He refused to believe that Hermione Granger was dead. It was too wrong.
And he bent his head to her ear, lightly whispering, "It shouldn't have been you. You didn't deserve to die."
He found her pocket where the time-turner was still hidden, as safe as ever. The one tiny object that wasted so many lives – just to save one.
Tears still fresh in his eyes, he began to turn it.
Aghh! We are almost at the end! Quick question - do you get the chapter title's relationship with the chapter...?