Disclaimer: Just playing in Rowling's sandbox.

Chapter Two

After the war was over, the wizarding world hardly knew what to do with itself. Not a single Death Eater had escaped capture, which many remarked was an unprecedented event, as if Dumbledore himself was aiding from beyond the grave. A week or two was spent basking in the presence of unharmed, loved ones before the magnificent wheel gave a great groan and began to move again. The first thing to be repaired was the fractured Ministry of Magic. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister; and, after a quick magical tally, he became the Minister officially. The Ministry was refurbished, yet again, this time under the watchful eye of the new magical leader. Many were pleased to see it looked even better than when Fudge had redecorated. There were no distasteful statues of wizards this time, but a large, marble memorial was placed in the center of the entrance hall to honor all the people who had been killed during both parts of the war. Harry Potter's parents were on the top of the memorial followed by the more recent dead such as Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Remus and Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin and Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody. Fred Weasley's name never had to be added.

Another great ongoing wizarding project was the rebuilding, reorganization and reopening of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Battle of Hogwarts—or to those who learned of Harry Potter's miraculous return from the dead, The Phoenix Battle—had damaged most of the grounds, the Entrance Hall, the Great Hall and also a great deal of the various hallways, vestibules and rooms littering the vast grey castle. Bill, Fleur and Charlie Weasley had temporarily postponed their jobs in order to help rebuild their alma mater, and they were not the only ones. With a large group of volunteers, primarily made up of alumni and teachers of the partially decimated school, it was determined that the school would reopen just in time for a new term.

Needless to say, Hermione Granger, student extraordinaire, was ecstatic at the news.

"Mum! Dad!" a voice sailed down the stairs from the direction of Hermione's room. The couple, who had been enjoying a quiet cup of coffee, looked up sharply in unison as their seventeen year old daughter slid down the banister to land primly on the first floor in front of the small kitchen table.

"Hermione, how many times has your mother told you not to slide down the banister?" her father gave her a sterner look than he would normally have sent her way had they not just been apparated back from Australia a few days ago. Both of her parents were beyond the boundaries of hurt and absolutely infuriated when she had reversed the memory charms she had used to keep them both safe. She had changed their identities, their location, and without a word of warning or goodbye had gone off to fight the cruelest and deadliest man on Earth. They could not admit it out loud yet, but they were more upset at the fact they had come so close to losing her than the fact that she had used magic on them without their permission. Shaken and appalled, they had been lashing out at their daughter without really meaning to.

"I'm sorry. Just a reflex I suppose," she muttered, avoiding their eyes. "I just wanted to tell you that they're going to reopen Hogwarts in time for the start of term. So, I don't think I'll have to wait an extra year to finish my education."

"You don't think or you don't know?" her mother said coldly, taking a sip of her coffee, "Don't come to us with speculation, Hermione. We need facts."

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself calm, "I'm sorry. I'll owl for information right away." Her mother said nothing, turning back the morning edition of the local newspaper. She looked at her dad who gave a look that barely passed for apologetic. She nodded and traveled quickly back to her small room, trying to keep from letting out a sob until she had shut the door. Hermione understood why they were acting so harshly, particularly her mother, but it didn't make the silence easier and the cold any more tolerable. She cried quietly for a minute before taking refuge in her favorite, well-worn novel Pride and Prejudice.

The book pulled her out of her painful reality and into another's, giving her shelter from her own turbulent thoughts until a hesitant knock at her door brought her back with a jolt.

"Come in," she said, hoping the redness around her eyes had faded.

Her father entered the room cautiously, ducking to prevent his head from hitting the top of the door frame. Hermione had not inherited her dad's monstrous height. Instead, she received his warm brown eyes and his frizzy hair. She loved him for the former, and before their unpleasant behavior had started, she had scolded him constantly for passing on his genes for the latter. He always got a kick out of mussing her hair whenever he could, but these days he kept his hands to himself.

He gave a great sigh and looked at his daughter with sadness, "Hermione, your mum and I had a discussion. We know you thought you were doing the right thing by protecting us—"

"It was the right thing," Hermione glared, firing up at once.

"Don't interrupt me!" he hissed, running his hands through his hair in agitation, "We know you were doing it for our protection, but the fact is—we almost lost our only daughter to a maniac and we would have never known. We would have never even known we had a daughter. That's—It's just doesn't bear thinking about. It's too difficult, Hermione. That's why we think it would be best if you stayed the rest of spring and maybe summer with your friends," he looked down at his large hands, away from her broken expression, "We need time to forgive and forget the horror, and we don't think we can do it with you here to constantly remind us of what we almost lost. Just give us some time, some space and everything will be back to normal." He gave her a weak smile that didn't quite mask the desperation he showed.

Hermione nodded, her demeanor now as frigid as her mother's had been this morning, "If you really think that's best. I'll write Mrs. Weasley tonight."

He shivered, almost feeling the cold she was radiating, and almost reached out to muss her hair before dropping his hand swiftly and leaving the room.

Molly Weasley was dozing in the somewhat uncomfortable visitor's chair next to the hospital bed of one Fred Weasley, jokester and ex-vegetable. He had made an almost full recovery, but the Mediwizards still wanted him here for observation. They had kept him especially long because he had spent more than two weeks in a comatose state before he woke screaming. He had not stopped until they had given him a sedative.

Well, that's what a bloke does when he's been trapped inside his own head for two weeks, Fred thought, scowling. His mother had not left his side the entire time except when the rest of the family cajoled her into a shower, a meal or sleep. George had been exactly the same way until Fred had threatened to really give him something to live in the hospital for. He couldn't stop his mother for all the riches in Gringotts, but he'd be damned if he let his brother and best mate lose sleep over him. Now George only visited during the day, telling him about how Diagon Alley was busier than ever and that he should hurry up and get out of the hospital dress before he starts called Fred 'Alfreda'.

Fred smiled at the memory. He had jinxed a pair of antlers onto his brother before Anne, the Mediwitch who had saved Fred's life, had come back to kick George out for disturbing his twin. George got caught in the doorway until she shrunk the antlers a bit before giving Fred his daily checkup. She had refused to reverse the jinx saying that now the size of his head matched the size of his ego. George, to his twin's great surprise, had blushed scarlet before muttering something nondescript and leaving. Not knowing Fred was watching, Anne gave his departing brother a shy smile before tending to her duties. Even if he did only have a week to go, he was determined to get those two together.

Mrs. Weasley gave a small sigh and slept on. He looked at his mother fondly jumping slightly at a tap on the door. The night Mediwizard, Jack, poked his face into the crack of the open door, and, seeing Fred's inquisitive look, walked in quietly.

"A letter for your mother," he whispered, glancing at the sleeping witch, "Owl just came in. It's a bit late for letter writing don't you think?"

"Very late. Whoever wrote it must be in a hurry to convey the message," Fred grinned. The American had quickly become one of the twins' favorite people. He had a wicked mind like theirs.

"Could be an emergency," Jack mused, smiling as he handed the letter to Fred and walked back towards the door.

"I should read it immediately then. I'm sure it's not so important as to wake my poor mother from her rest."

Jack smirked as he closed the door, saying, "No, the poor dear is exhausted. Best take care of it yourself." The door shut with a click, and Fred chuckled softly as he looked at the handwriting on the front. It looked familiar, but he couldn't recall whose hand it was. He broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear Mrs. Weasley,

Forgive the lateness of the hour, but I had to write immediately. I'm so sorry to disturb you. I'm sure you have so much to do what with the rebuilding of Hogwarts and Fred's hospitalization. The reason I'm writing is that my parents and I have had a sort of disagreement, and they have decided it might be best if I stayed with friends until the start of term. Would it be a terrible inconvenience if I stayed at the Burrow until then? If it is too much of a burden I could always stay at Grimmauld Place or at the Leaky Cauldron. I just wanted to check with you first, because you, Mr. Weasley and your children have quickly become my much loved wizarding family. Even if you decide it would be too much trouble, I would love to hear how everyone is doing. Thank you for everything, Mrs. Weasley.

With all my love,

Hermione

P.S. How is Fred doing by the way? I hope he hasn't set the hospital on fire.

Fred laughed at her post script intending to poke fun at her later for it. He reread it again, and the smile faded from his lips. He wondered what type of disagreement could have separated her from her parents when everyone else in the wizarding world was clinging to loved ones with unflinching tenacity. They had probably just had the fight today since the letter was written only hours earlier. Fred also wondered how bad it had to be that Hermione doubted whether or not Mrs. Weasley would let her stay at the Burrow. His whole family had made it clear that they would add a whole extra floor if Hermione or Harry decided to stay permanently.

The letter did not sit well with him. He began to wish he'd never opened it but stopped himself. That wouldn't be doing Hermione justice at all. He refolded the letter with care and placed it on his nightstand intending to give it to his mum in the morning after she enjoyed a good night's sleep. Quietly pulling back his covers, he snuck out of bed and to the door. He opened it enough to glance down the hallway to where Jack was lounging, listening sleepily to the Wizarding Wireless Network.

"Psst," Fred hissed down the hall, causing the Mediwizard to jump to attention.

Jack scowled when he saw who it was and whispered, "Get back in bed you invalid!"

"I need a quill, a piece of parchment, and an owl."

Jack ceased his scowling, "So it was important then? The letter?"

Fred nodded, "A friend's in need." Jack went back to his desk and grabbed a ragged quill, a piece of parchment and a bottle of black ink.

He walked back to Fred and handed him the items, "I'll send an owl myself when you're done. Anne will kill me if I let you anywhere near a bird. She thinks the ruddy animals carry diseases."

Fred smirked and wagged a finger, "You never know. Thanks mate." He closed the door on the skeptical look gracing his friend's face and got to work writing a reply.

Dearly beloved Hermione,

How are you Hermione DARLING? How's your mental recovery from the homicidal maniac been? I'm here, bored out of my mind, at St. Mungo's. Said boredom was the reason I opened your letter. That and the fact that my mother needs some well-deserved sleep. I hope you can find it in your lovely, bookish heart to forgive me.

I just thought I owed it to you to write back immediately. I can speak for my mother when I say OF COURSE YOU CAN STAY AT THE BURROW! You could live there forever and a day and no one would find it out of the ordinary. Besides, mum's going to want more people around once she goes back home after I escape the hospital. Bil, Fleur and Charlie are living in Hogsmeade while they are helping rebuild, George and I are still living at our flat above the joke shop, and Percy is still living with Penelope in London. Mum, I'm sure, will need more people to stuff with only Ron, Ginny and Dad left. You can even stay here with me in my nice, cozy hospital room. You'll have to find your own gown though, I've grown rather fond of mine. Go ahead and apparate here tomorrow. I guarantee mum will be waiting to hug you when you get here. See you then!

With all the love that I possess, and even some I don't,

Your obedient love slave,

Fred

P.S. I only burned half of the hospital down. The rest is perfectly fine.

With a grin, he sealed it with a spell and stuck his head out into the hallway again. Jack was waiting with an open hand, and Fred gave him a bright smile before turning in for the night. He needed his rest to face Hermione's wrath tomorrow.

A/N: Reviews are love.