Hermione was sitting alone at the Weasley dining table with a hot cup of tea and the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. She could hear Mrs. Weasley clanging around in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was still asleep. She wanted to ask if she could help with breakfast, but she had learned a long time ago that the cause was fruitless. Mrs. Weasley was nothing if not stubborn.

So there she sat, enjoying the relative silence, when she saw it, and must have let out some sort of scream because several members of the household came scrambling down the stairs, followed shortly thereafter by an extremely groggy Ron.

"What is it? What's happened?" Mr. Weasley said, his wand up and ready much like in the days before the war.

Hermione took a moment to try to regain her composure before speaking. "They are SELLING the Hogwarts house elves, or rather, renting them out, until such time that Hogwarts is fully repaired to working condition," she finished with a direct quote from the article. She took a deep breath and she felt herself seething at what she had just read.

Mr. Weasley lowered his wand.

"That's it?" asked Ron. "You woke us up for that?"

"That's it?" Hermione said. "That's it? It's a bloody travesty is what it is. These elves are fellow creatures in our world with real thoughts and feelings. They do not deserve this kind of treatment. To be rented out like a home carpet cleaner-"

"A what?" asked George. She hadn't even known he was there. She wondered if he had spent the night or just arrived very early.

Hermione waved her hand to dismiss his question. "Muggle thing," she said.

"Um, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Don't you think you are overreacting just a bit?"

"Of course I'm not overreacting. If anything, I am 'underreacting'. We have to do something about this."

Ron snorted. "Good luck with that, 'Mione. I'm going back to bed." She could see the nods around the room as the others agreed with him. It was upsetting her even more.

"Well, how do you expect us to help them?" George asked. "Trust me, they don't want to be helped. They like their jobs. Helping is what they do."

"That's only because they know no other existence. If we could free them-"

"You're not getting it Hermione," said George, "they don't want to be freed. They become complete nutters at the mere mention of the word."

"Dobby sure didn't," she said. "He was so proud that he was a free elf."

"Dobby was different," Harry said. "You know that."

"It is just because they don't know any different. If we could convince them that they would have a better life..."

"We could always erase their memories," Fred said. "Then we can just tell them to go live it up on the beach with a drink and a good book." He grinned at Hermione, expecting her to be pleased by his support. Instead, the room grew silent and even with his memory loss he knew that was unusual. "What? What did I say?" he asked.

Hermione got up slowly, but immediately left the room and a moment later the front door slammed behind her.

"What did I say?" Fred asked again, but everyone looked reluctant to tell him. They were so weird around him these days. He didn't have to have all his memories to know that was weird. There had been several times when he walked into the room when they had all been joking and laughing and they suddenly stopped. He wished people would stop tip-toeing around him and just live their lives. He would catch up one day. He hoped.

"Well, mate," said George, "it's like this." He launched into the story of Hermione removing her parents' memories to keep them safe and how as of right now she still had no idea where they were.

"Bloody hell," he said. "Isn't that something someone should have told me, perhaps? You people know I can't remember anything. Oh, Fred, maybe don't mention this. Anything else I should know?" He was being too hard on them and he knew it, but Hermione was the only one that had really been there for him in any real capacity since...well, since that bloody wall fell on him and he couldn't stand the idea that he had upset her in such a way. He stormed out of the kitchen and out the front door.

He was furious. How had she been able to stand it with him all this time? It had to be a constant reminder.

Still, he wasn't trying to be mean. If he was honest, he really didn't have a strong opinion about elf rights, but he had a strong desire to defend her when the others were making fun of her. He could tell it hurt her feelings. Clearly, he didn't go about it the right way. He wasn't sure if the thing with her parents was something that he didn't remember or something he had never known, because, you know, AMNESIA. He wasn't trying to be cruel. She should know that; they had spent so much time together over the past several weeks. Evidently not, though, because he was still standing out in the garden looking like a complete jackass and she had run off a good ten minutes earlier. He had to find her.

He tried calling her name to no avail, so he forced himself to think...think about the garden, about Hermione, about hiding spots. He punched the top of the chicken coop in frustration sending the birds squawking and running around in an angry fit. Where could she be? He didn't know, but he was going to find her.

It was already dark and that made things a little trickier, but thankfully he had remembered his wand. "Lumos," he said quietly, as he set off down towards the lake. He was nearly there when he heard a sound from a nearby willow tree. "Hermione?" he asked. Just a whimpering sound in response. He headed towards the noise and sure enough, there she was, curled up under a tree. It seemed familiar somehow, but he would have to try and work that out another time.

"Hermione," he said softly, "it's me. I didn't know. I'm sorry." He moved forward, cautiously at first, but when she didn't seem to recoil he sat down beside her against the tree. "I would never have said...I kind of thought it was a joke because of you know..." He pointed at his own head.

"There's nothing funny about lost memories, Fred. That is part of why I wanted to help you. It seemed like maybe somehow I would be helping them, too. I know it's silly."

"No," he said, "I think I get it." He put his arm around her and pulled her in close. "You really have no idea where they are?"

She shook her head no, letting out a small sob. "Kingsley has had people looking for them, but so far nothing. I'm not sure if what I did can even be reversed, so even if I do find them it might be for nothing. At least they are safe."

"It has to have been torture being around me all this time," he said. "You have to stop. You can't put yourself through this every day."

"Spending time with you has not been torture," she said. "In fact, it has been kind of nice." She sat up, attempting to compose herself.

"Hard to believe we didn't get along before," he said.

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, hard to believe," she said. "Look, Fred, I am happy to help you and I have enjoyed spending time with you, but one day you will remember."

"That's the hope, right?"

"Yes, of course, but not sure old life would want Hermione Granger in it."

"You think I'm just going to forget about you when I remember?" He snorted at the absurdity of it all. "Hermione, I'm not going to just drop you like an old hat."

"We'll see," she said quietly, hugging her knees to her chest. "We'll see."

We'll see, indeed. Thanks for reading. Would love to hear from you! :)