Tur'kor

by resclark

GOF- The continuing journey of the Arithmancy nerd and bookworm. Can Fred stay out of the tournament? Will Hermione free the House Elves and save Winky? Will Malfoy find out who attacked his Father? Starts in POA. FW/HG GW/Multi

3. Hermione meets Luna & consequences

Saturday morning Hermione was so excited she woke at 5 o'clock and couldn't go back to sleep. The next thirty minutes she spent packing a spare set of robes and every book her expandable book bag could possibly carry. It was unfortunate she had to leave behind her first year books.

However, when she went to retrieve her toiletries she froze; there underneath her toothbrush was an inconspicuous blue mint box. Hermione's parents were nothing if not over-protective of their only daughter, but she had been understandably mortified when her mother pulled her aside and handed her the blue box full of birth control at the beginning of her second year. Seeing it now, Hermione came to the startling conclusion that Fred Weasley was a boy. A boy she had just agreed to spend months with alone. Oh dear. But he wouldn't- surely he wasn't- Fred had been so upset when he had found out George was being polyamorous last week. So if he tried anything Hermione would just say no. Fred was good like that; he would listen. Hermione grabbed her toothpaste and left the mint box.

Packed, Hermione set out for the kitchen to collect the food they would need. She had made a tentative study schedule last night, but wouldn't really know what their plans where until she knew just what Fred needed to learn. They would need to focus some time today on making the fawn room livable. Also, Hermione needed to find some sort of alarm to make sure that she got to her other classes on time; since they would be already using the time turner she would have to leave the room to go to those. Overall she was a little miffed she had wasted a year skipping back hours when entire days were possible. Fred had figured that out so quickly.

Not to mention his conclusion that she only had the time-turner to protect Harry from Sirius Black. Frankly, when Hermione looked at things from the angle Fred was proposing she couldn't fault his logic. It painted Professor Dumbledore in a whole new light. What looked like protections for the Philosopher's Stone in first year now looked more like a stalling tactic. Really, who would hide the key to immortality behind traps a group of first years could defeat? She would have to ask Fred about her suspicions.

Tickling the pear, Hermione entered the kitchens. Her nose was accosted by the fragment smells of breakfast wafting up through the rafters. Everything seemed to have been repaired from last time and the Elves were quickly piling food on the four long tables. Unlike last time Hermione was not greeted by any Elves.

After several moments a nobly Elf wearing a dirty pillowcase and one long sock approached her. "Lord Weezes' Miss," he nodded excitedly, "How can Dobby be helping Mistress?"

"Dobby?" Hermione gasped, "I thought Harry freed you."

"Oh yes," Dobby perked his ears up, "Master Potter freed Dobby he did. From mean Malfoy's. A curse on them. Dobby is working at Hogwarts now."

"You mean your bond was transferred?" Hermione asked indignantly

"Oh no. Dobby is a free-elf! Dobby is getting paid," Dobby squeaked. If it was possible the other elves shuffled further away from them.

"Really?" she asked. So it was possible for an Elf to live outside the bond. "How does that work?"

"Dobby asks many wizards for pay. They laugh and spit in Dobby's face." Dobby wrung his hands.

"How rude." And illegal for human workers.

Dobby nodded, "Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Gallons a week!" Dobby shook his head. "It was too much. I talked him down to one, I did." Dobby nodded his head in accomplishment.

She bit her lip, "And you aren't feeling any side effects of not being bound?" Curses were known to compel their subjects to obedience after all.

Dobby tugged his ear and leaned in close, "Miss not tell?"

"Only Fred."

Dobby wrung his hands and looked around nervously, "Dobby's magic is stronger, but Dobby's bones ache bad. Hands shake too. Hard to cut veggies and dust. Dobby uses magic more. Dobby tried to not work, but Dobby couldn't stop."

"Right." Being bound must suppress their magic, but as punishment for not finding another master it was hurting him. Plus he was compelled to work and therefore find another master. How awful.

"Mistress tells Lord Master Weezes?" Dobby asked.

Hermione didn't remember the Elves calling Fred that last time. "Why do you call him that?"

Dobby grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, "Lord Master Weezes tried to free all the Hogwarts Elves! He is very strong wizard, he is." Dobby got very still, "Other Elves were hurt by bond when Lord Master Weezes failed, though. That's why they stay away. They are afraid of the hurts. Lord Master Weezes will try again, yes?"

Hermione blinked back tears, suddenly aware that the House Elves weren't just some abused animals. They were sentient creatures entrapped by a very dark curse. A curse that had punished them because she had asked Fred to listens to it with his magic sense. She smiled feebly, "We didn't mean for that to happen, Dobby. We were just trying to look at the curse that was on you. Next time we will make sure it doesn't hurt."

"Hurting is okay Mistress. House Elves is used to great hurting." Dobby patted her arm. "Dobby is glad to know Lord Master Weezes will again try."

Hermione pulled out Fred's handkerchief from her bag to dry her eyes. She really needed to give that back.

After a moment Dobby asked, "Was there anything Mistress needed?"

"Oh," she gasped, "Three meals for two if you could, please. Also I don't know if you have a bag or anything to put them in, because mine is pretty full."

"Dobby could shrink them if you like?"

"That would be excellent, Thank you," she smiled.

Dobby bowed, "Mistress is most kind. If Mistress calls Dobby from now on Dobby can bring Mistress her meals as she wishes."

Minutes later she had three shrunken meals in her bag and figured she might as well head up to breakfast to get her first meal of the day. The breakfast she had just retrieved from Dobby would be used once they wound time back to now. She sighed. This might get confusing fast. At least they wouldn't have to worry about food anymore.

The great hall was moderately full for a Saturday morning when she got there. Hermione figured most students were up early to do shopping in Hogsmeade before the Easter holidays. Hermione would be staying at Hogwarts since her parents had been working overtime since Dr. Steward had retired earlier this year. She didn't mind, since she would be able to spend the time with Fred, Ron, and Harry.

Speaking of the King of Chaos, here came Fred and George now. Oh my, she was sure she didn't want to know what George just whispered into Cho Chang's ear to make her turn that shade of red. At least it better had been George, because Fred wasn't like that. Hopefully.

When the twins set down across from her she waited patently while they unwrapped their silverware, pretending to be too engrossed in her food for pleasantries. They always make it a point to greet people first thing when they came in any room; Hermione had noticed that the chances they would tell you their correct names were about half. However, in the past few months she had began to discover ways of telling them apart. Both boys calmly unwrapped their silverware and proceeded to set their utensils to the side, but only one took the extra time to wipe his plate off with his napkin. Because Fred made a habit of always wiping his workspace down in the library, Hermione was fairly sure that made this her twin. She smiled, picked the waffles up, and passed them to Fred, "Good morning, Fred."

"Hermione," he beamed back, "are you-"

"Studying already, Granger?" George interrupted rudely.

Fred piled three waffles on his plate and passed it to George. "Today is-" he continued.

"Quidditch practice." There he goes again. Did George think Fred incapable of speech?

Hermione found herself getting annoyed, "Anything else exciting?"

Fred smirked, "Now that you mention it-"

"We have no time," George shook his head.

Hermione couldn't help it, she started giggling. It soon turned to laughter when Fred joined in.

"Oi!" George looked back and forth between them, "Am I missing something?"

"Nope," Fred chortled, "just-"

"A really good joke," Hermione couldn't help but finish through her laughter.

George looked at them both skeptically, "If you are sure."

Hermione quickly shushed Fred when she noticed Professor Snape walking up the aisle behind the twins to the head table. However, the teacher didn't continue on but instead stopped where they were and barked, "Weasley!"

"Yes, sir?" both twins turned and looked simultaneously at the looming form of the Potions master.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes and drawled, "George Weasley."

Fred protested, "Not it!" while holding up his hands. George looked at Fred with wide eyes of disbelief.

The Professor nodded sharply and turned towards George, "I don't know why I even bother. Perhaps if your mother hadn't wasted so much time acting like breeding stock she could have focused on teaching her herd basic values. Like punctuality."

Hermione gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. Snape was supposed to be a Professor! Fred would be- Fred was sitting there with his jaw clenched doing absolutely nothing. George spent about thirty seconds looking like he was waiting to pin Fred down before he got up and took a swing at Professor Snape himself.

What little chatter there was in the moderately full great hall ceased immediately. Snape grabbed George's fist with one hand and with the other arm pointed his wand directly at his throat. "Congratulations," Snape sneered vindictively in George's face. Why wasn't Fred doing anything? "You've just earned yourself an detention for attempting to assault a Professor."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, grease ball," George spat.

"There was something else, too. What was it?" Snape brought his wand to his pursed lips, commenting idly, "I remember, 50 points from Gryffindor." He then proceeded to wrench George by his arm down the length of the tables. His voice echoed menacingly in the silent hall, "Now I believe I have some spleens that need sliced. Move." Hermione didn't often apply such terminology to authority figures, but Professor Snape was a certified bully.

As the noise slowly returned to the hall, Hermione overheard Fred's whisper, "Fuck."

She automatically responded, "Language."

Fred continued to look dejectedly down at his waffles. He sighed, "This is all my fault."

"How?" Hermione enquired. Fred just shook his head remorsefully. Maybe he would want to talk about it later, then. He wasn't even eating anymore. Way to kill the mood, Professor Snape. "So, Fred, are you ready?"

"Ready?" he looked up confused. He didn't forget did he? What if he hadn't meant it after all? What if- "Oh, you mean to go see the tapestry?" Fred smiled warily erasing her doubts.

Hermione nodded and they quietly left the great hall. Not a word was said as they headed towards the tapestry. If Fred was going to be like this, then maybe this was a bad idea. Then again, maybe he just needed some space. Hermione was unsure how to deal with his apparent moodiness.

When they stepped behind the tapestry, Fred reeled back and exclaimed, "Bloody hell!"

"Language!"

"Sorry." Fred reached out towards the passage timidly, "It's just that this is my magic."

"What?" She looked at the plain brick wall. It looked the same as it had last night.

"I apparently," Fred looked at her as he rubbed the stone wall, "Cast wards here I don't remember."

"Oh." Hermione gasped, "And you can hear them? You recognize that they are wards? That it is your magic?" Think of the possibilities!

"Yeah," Fred leaned into the wall to get closer, "A Notice-me-not, perimeter charm, and impenetrable charm sounds like."

Hermione tilted her head, "You probably put them up so we wouldn't walk in."

"On us?" he asked in morbid amusement. "The first wizards who experimented with time travel went insane because they kept trying to go back and correct the mistakes of past selves. Time travel is restricted now because it does something to you. You feel like you should trust yourself but you begin to doubt." He laughed frantically, "Even my magic feels different, somehow. It's not normal."

Hermione frowned, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Fred's eyes snapped to her and he grasped her shoulders tightly, "Don't you get it, Hermione? We already have. We can't back out, not now."

She looked at the seemingly innocent brick wall and was reminded of the ministry pamphlet she had received: "Dire consequences come to those who unravel space and time."

Fred squeezed her shoulder, "It's alright. I'm more freaked out by what Snape's doing to George, honestly." He smiled those perfect teeth at her, "Besides, as long as were together, what could happen?"

"Right." Hermione reached under her blouse and untucked the time-turner before she could loose her nerve. Looping it around both of their necks she looked to Fred for confirmation, "Twelve turns?"

"Twelve turns," he nodded before looking at her mischievously, "can I?"

"Sure, you just turn this knob right here until it clicks each time," she explained handing him the turner.

Clutching her book bag she smiled at his playful manner of turning the device. Again, she was reminded of her cat Crooks, only this time Fred had found a ball of yarn. "One for a wand, two for dueling seekers, three is for Fortescue's triple treat …. nine Weasley's in their beds-"

Fit to burst from laughter Hermione knew she was going to have to write this one down. Looking at Fred again she noticed something odd, "Where's your bag?"

"And twelve teams in the Quidditch league!" he finished jubilantly before looking at her, "My what?"

The room spun around them quickly and Hermione gasped in disbelief as the time-turner quit working. "Your bag with things so we can work?"

"I brought my Arithmancy book," he shrugged.

Grant her patience. They had just used the time-turner so it wasn't like he could just march up to the occupied dorms and get his things. She sighed, "What about a change of clothes?"

He tilted his head, "Why would I need that?"

"I don't know Fred," she answered sarcastically, "For after you shower?"

Fred taped his wand to the bricks and let her in the room, "Just where are you planning on showering?"

Dropping her bag Hermione stormed over to the door Fred had indicated last night, "I don't know, maybe the bath-" Hermione's voice stuck as she stared at the supposed accommodations. Her voice turned deadly, "Fred Weasley! You told me there was a bathroom."

He was leaning casually against one of the desks with his feet crossed, for all appearances nonchalant. "So I did."

"This," she jaded her finger at the monstrosity, "Doesn't even deserve to be called a toilet." The stone basin set alone inside the closet with hardly any room for maneuverability.

"Honestly, its a latrine. They are all over the castle. I thought you were smart," he bantered playfully.

"They got rid of the latrines in 1692 when they switched to modern plumbing. It says so in Hogwarts-"

"A History. That they got rid of every latrine in a castle whose main purpose is schooling? A castle of over which a third is in disuse and a fifth is condemned? How practical does that sound?" He tapped his finger to his head, "Think, Hermione."

"Alright," she begrudgingly admitted. He did have a point, "There is still no shower."

He shrugged, "There's the spell."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and ranted, "Fred, if you think for one minute I am sleeping in these clothes you have another thing coming. Nor am I changing in that pitiful excuse for a bathroom. Which, by the way, you better hope you can fix. I am not sitting on that monstrosity! You may be all right with living in a dump, but in case you failed to notice I am a woman and we have standards." Just for added emphasis she stomped her foot. That felt good.

Fred uncrossed his legs and bowed at the waist, "As my Princess commands." He then walked past her towards the bathroom where he proceeded to Scourgify and add a cushioning charm to the latrine. Twirling his wand he turned to her, "What next?"

Four hours later the room was mostly in order for what materials they had. They had moved two desks together on each side of the door and Fred had transfigured them into beds and a mattress. Using faded books Fred had made sheets - he had been good on his word for chartreuse - and long dividers for each bedroom section. Hermione had been busy moving the extra desks to one side of the room along the windows and the extra chairs to the others. When Fred was done with the beds he changed the chairs to Gryffindor themed armchairs. Throughout it all Hermione felt a little useless. Sure she got to tell Fred what to do, but the one time she tried to transfigure a desk it proved impossible.

At least she had been able to levitate the furniture and set the lights. Working at night was going to prove odd; just now it was nearing midnight, the quarter moon silhouetting the lake. Hermione turned to ask Fred a question when the grinding sound of stone on stone began to echo throughout the room. Fred was there in seconds, wrenching her behind him as he stood with his wand aloft. Hermione's heart felt like it would escape her chest, were they about to get expelled for using the time-turner?

The passageway reveled the disheveled form of the castle's caretaker Filch who called gleefully, "Out after bed, Weasley? I'll have you hanging in the dungeons for a month for this! Just wait and-"

"Obliviate," Fred harshly interrupted Filch's ranting.

Hermione let go of Fred's cloak and took a step back in disbelief, "Did you just-"

"Confundo," The spell hit Filch who smiled blankly, turned and left the room. Fred then proceeded to silently banish Miss Norris out after him to the cat's indignant yowls.

Hermione couldn't believe what she had just seen. Fred had tampered with someone's mind like it was an everyday occurrence, like it was natural! Just erased his memories and moved on. What if he had done that to her? What if she needed her blue box and didn't even know it? Hermione held her hand to her mouth and struggled to breath. She was deeply aware that there was only one way out of this room and that was through the door Fred was now standing in front of. He wouldn't even need a love potion; he could just bind her, have his way, wipe her mind, and then do it all over again. What kind of world did she live in?

Fred turned from the door and shook his head, "I shouldn't have forgot to ward the door." When he locked eyes with her she couldn't help but stumble a step back. Fred took three hurried strides towards her, since when were his legs so long? He was tall too, a good head above her small five foot frame. Hermione was trembling; would going for her wand do any good? "Hermione?" Fred asked gently, "Is something wrong?"

Images of Obliviated girls floating through her mind, she exploded, "Wrong? You used Obliviate on Filch like it was nothing!"

Fred reeled back before adopting a blank face, "Did I really?"

What kind of mind trick did he think he was playing? "Of course you did. I was standing right here. I saw you," she spat.

"And tell me, little miss know-it-all," Fred whispered, "Did it ever occur to you in that big muggle brain of yours that the man that just walked in here could have been Sirius Black polyjuiced as Filch?"

How rude! She responded sharply, "That's a bit farfetched-"

"I had an Aunt, pretty little Mudblood." Hermione gasped and took as step back, only to have Fred step right back into her face. He continued viciously, "Or at least, so I'm told. Never met her. She died, you see. Tragic." When he stopped there and didn't continue on, Hermione thought that was it. Maybe she could just grab her things and walk out the door. That was, until Fred leaned into her ear, "Aren't you dying to know how?"

No, not really. But she got the impression there wasn't much choice. "How," Hermione licked her dry lips, "How did she die?"

Fred smiled grimly, "Her husband came home one day, early from work to see her. She was so happy she greeted him at the door and forgot all about the security protocol they had set up. It was still early in the war, after all, and who would attack them? It was thirty minutes later when her husband had her tied to their dining room table that the polyjuice wore off."

"No," Hermione gasped.

"Oh yes." Fred laughed hollowly, "There is a Death Eater wondering these halls whose only goal is to kill your best friend. He will enjoy if he gets to torture and kill you along the way. Voldemort is worse. He will let all of his followers out of Azkaban months after he gets a body and it will be war. As Harry Potter's Muggleborn they will come after you relentlessly."

Hermione wondered what it would be like to live as a witch and not be afraid. "What about Filch, what if he wasn't Sirius Black in disguise?"

Fred shrugged, "He's a squib."

"That makes it alright?" Hermione shrieked affronted.

"No," he sighed, "But squibs and muggles don't have innate magic to fight off most spells. Whatever memories the spell gave him will become his permanently. He doesn't have the magic to retain his old memories or realize something is wrong. In many ways it is much better than performing spells on wizards."

Hermione was too tired to argue this right now, "Are you ready for lunch?"

Fred nodded and they went over to the armchairs to sit. Hermione pulled out the shrunken platter of sandwiches and fingerlings allowing Fred to enlarge them. Removing the two bottles of butterbeer she watched curiously as Fred poked around the sandwiches. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm trying to find one that's not roast beef," he commented while opening another.

"I could have sworn I saw you eat roast beef just last Tuesday."

Fred shrugged, "George likes it." He reluctantly picked up a sandwich and took a bite.

"And you don't?" she enquired.

"It's about my least favorite meat."

How odd. "But you eat it anyway."

He nodded, "Yeah, George and I take turns picking out the meals. He gets one, and then it's my turn. Adds to the twin mystique." He winked roguishly. Talk about mood swings.

"So you eat a ton of foods you don't like just so people think you are identical?" Hermione asked confused. "Don't you find that a bit odd?"

"Not really. Look," Fred took a swig of his butterbeer, "From the day I was born George and I have been everywhere together. Every day I wake up and he's there. I've never had to find a friend because he's always been there. When we've gone to friend's houses we went together. I never had to look hard for anyone to talk to or to share a laugh with. Besides, this way I'm not a picky eater." He waved the sandwich at her.

"That does sound nice," Hermione admitted wistfully. What would it have been like growing up with a friend?

Fred frowned, "I've never spent a day away from him before."

"Oh." Hermione didn't realize that might be an issue. "But doesn't it bother you some times?"

"Pardon?" Fred asked startled.

"That he's always there. How he interrupts you all the time and doesn't let you talk. It's like he doesn't think you have your own opinion."

Fred shrugged, "It's not like that. He just interrupts me because he thinks it's funny or so I don't lose my temper."

"And when its not funny?" she probed.

"Stop asking questions you know nothing about," Fred snapped.

Apparently he didn't want to talk about his relationship with George. "Okay," Hermione commented gently. "What were you wanting to work on after this?"

"Arithmancy," Fred answered without hesitation.

Hermione chuckled, "Alright, but I want some time after dinner to gauge where you are at in History. We can start with the first year material and go from there."

"Yes Ma'am," he saluted.

"Also," Hermione bit her lip, "Earlier with Filch-"

"Hermione, I'm sorry about that I was just trying to-"

"I know, but you banished Miss Norris silently." She commented, "That's sixth year work."

Fred looked at her sideways, "I put a lot of power behind it. It's pretty much useless. I can't do anything more than first year charms."

"But that day in the library you conjured a chair silently."

"I did?"

"Yes," Hermione affirmed, "You really didn't notice?"

"No. I must not have thought about it," Fred shrugged.

"Have you tried practicing silent spells so you can do it consciously?"

"Well, not lately, but-"

"You will spend the evening after our History revision trying to do second year charms," she ordered.

"Hermione," he protested.

"Don't Hermione me Fred Weasley! You go on about how big of a threat Death Eaters are then you complain about it is too hard to learn a few silent spells? What are you, weak? I bet the Death Eaters don't need Voldemort holding their hand," she insisted viciously.

Fred furiously threw his butterbeer at the wall where it shattered. Then he went over to the workbenches where he proceeded to work on his Tur'kor. Hermione had a brief moment where she wondered whether she should apologize. But no, he was being irrational and lazy. If anyone deserved an apology it was her- not with half hearted words either. So they settled into an awkward silence working on their own projects.

Hermione finished all of her homework pulled out Runework. Once she had realized that Runes were the basis of all spells she had started reading ahead. She was curious to see what could be done with this vastly underrepresented field that had been mostly forgotten with time. It reminded her of Latin: most students at Hogwarts never had a formal Latin education although they were required to speak it on a daily basis. Hermione had been lucky enough that her parents had enrolled her in Latin classes at her request when she was nine. Runes were proving to be a bit more complicated than just a new language because the study was composed of several languages that worked together. Not only were Runes the basis of new spells they also provided the conduits for most wards. Apparently one method of achieving the Animagus transformation required the person to carve Runes into their skin. Barbaric.

"Granger," Fred interrupted briskly, "I need food."

They were back to Granger were they? Well two could play at that. "Fine, Weasley." Hermione pulled dinner out and the oppressive silence continued.

The History study went horribly. Who didn't know who Gaspard Singleton was? And when she mentioned the Soap Blizzard he acted like it was the first time he had ever heard of it, waxing lyrically about how he could make his own. Needless to say he was less then pleased when she informed him that if he spent less time pranking maybe he wouldn't need help with his studies. Finally she was so fed up she told him to go work on his spells.

Hermione calmed down as she watched the sun rise up over the grounds; Hogwarts was a truly beautiful place. She wouldn't give up magic, but sometimes she wished she could give up the prats that came with it. Turning to back to her place in Runework she continued to read about people who used runes to enhance themselves. There were several dark rituals that also required skin runes to work. One wizard had carved a rune set on himself to create a youthful appearance but aged twice as quick as a result. She wondered if Voldemort had used such a ritual to make himself immortal with a side effect of endless decay. Maybe that was why he disintegrated when he attacked Harry. It was becoming quickly apparent to her that Runes were the real power in the wizarding world; most people were just too afraid to use them.

When she realized it was almost noon she figured it was time to go to sleep. Fred was still casting spells over in his corner. Hermione approached him and stated briskly, "I'm off to bed."

"Fine." He cast a spell that caused the book on his desk to turn half way into a tortoise. Silently.

Hermione was impressed despite her anger; however, she couldn't help but notice that his brow was covered in sweat. "Maybe you should go too?" she commented offhandedly.

Fred turned to her and snapped, "I am not weak."

He could be that way for all she cared. Hermione left and went behind her curtained off area, furiously casting a silencing charm. Taking the time to brush her teeth with an Aguamenti and change her clothes she went to bed.

…o0o…

When Hermione's alarm went off at 7:30 she stretched hesitantly, wondering if perhaps yesterday had just been a bad day. Were that the case she would have been in her dorms and not on this hard mattress. Fred's transfiguration skills were good but he lacked finesse. That was, of course, on top of being a giant brat.

Shower spell applied, Hermione got dressed and brushed her teeth. She was a Gryffindor; she wasn't afraid of Fred Weasley. Marching out of her curtains, she came to a halt at the sight that greeted her. Fred had fallen asleep at his desk. His head was lolled to one side, and a trail of drool had formed down his cheek. He looked - dare she think it - cute. She was still mad at him.

Walking briskly to his side, Hermione barked, "Fred!" He didn't stir. Poking him in the ribs had no effect either. Knowing that he was a horrible morning person, Hermione decided she would just startle him awake. Pulling her wand out she cast a very satisfying, "Augumenti."

Fred fell out of his chair, sputtered for a minute, looked directly at her and said, "Mum? I think I'm sick." Then he proceeded to throw up all over her robes.

"Fred?" she asked wordily. When had this happened? She cleaned up the mess he had made and cast another shower spell on herself and then one on him for good measure. When she felt his forehead she gasped. He was burning up. "We need to get you to the hospital wing."

"Aw, Mum. Do I have to?" Fred whined, dropping his arms on the floor petulantly.

Trying to get his larger mass up off the floor quickly proved impossible. Hermione grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to lock with hers, "You are going, Fred Weasley. Or I'm taking away your Tur'kor."

"But Mum!"

"No buts," Hermione demanded, "And I'm not your Mum. I'm Hermione."

Fred narrowed his droopy eyes, "Princess?"

She sighed, "If you must." Looping his arm around her shoulder she tugged; this time she felt him make an effort to stand also.

"What-" He stumbled as they took their first steps towards the door.

"Steady there," Hermione allowed him to put most of his weight on her. She didn't hear anything last night due to the silencing spell, "Did a House Elf come in?"

"No," he slurred.

They made it out the door behind the tapestry. Hermione was struggling to get the time-turner out from her blouse. Half way through she paused, "Was it the turner?"

"No."

"Do you know what it was?" she snapped frustrated.

"I think," Fred chuckled, "I think I have magical exhaustion."

Hermione tugged the time-turner around them both and began to turn in furiously. She couldn't help but growl at Fred, "Were you not given a lecture in your first Charms class to go to the hospital wing at the first signs of magical exhaustion because it can result in death?"

"Hell, Princess," Fred slurred as the tapestry nook spun about them. "I thought they were joking."

When time settled back to 8 o'clock Saturday morning, Hermione grabbed Fred and headed downstairs for the hospital wing.

They had stumbled half the way there when Fred spoke up, "Waffles."

"Pardon?"

"My favorite food. It's waffles. I thought you knew. You gave me some. That day before the day that was. You smiled too. I like your smile," he babbled while leaning his chin on her head.

Hermione was glad he couldn't see her blush. "No, I just knew you ate them. Maybe you could tell me what you like so I can ask the House Elves for just that?"

Fred hummed, "Sounds good. And then-" Fred tripped over the toe of a suit of armor - or the suit of armor tripped him; Hogwarts was like that - and stumbled face first into her chest. Hermione barely kept her balance.

When he didn't get up immediately, she shook his shoulders wordily, "Is something wrong?"

Fred's somber green eyes locked with hers, "I'm sorry. 'Shouldn't have been so mean. Was so worried you would get hurt."

"You can work on your temper later. Up," she chastised. Then, because he looked so pitiful on the floor like that, she added, "I forgive you."

Fred beamed up at her, "Thanks Princess. You're my only. Can't loose you."

She hefted the much larger boy off the ground, again. "Only what?"

"Friend."

Hermione felt like tripping herself. Surely that wasn't true. He had Lee and Oliver. All the girls on the quidditch team hung around him all the time. Plus he had all those brothers. This was just the magical exhaustion talking, surely. Must be. Finally having reached the hospital wing, Hermione called out, "Madam Pomfrey? We need help!"

The matron bustled out from her office, "Oh dear, is this Fred or George?"

"Fred," Hermione replied, "He thinks he has magical exhaustion."

"Quick! Into bed with him." Madam Pomfrey indicated to the closest bed. Once Fred was in it she cast captus summa, frowned, and cast a few other spells. She asked briskly, "What are your symptoms?"

Fred looked up from where he was playing with the bed sheets and mumbled, "I've got a headache."

"For how long?"

"A day. I think." He waved his hand absently, "Or two? Is it a day if it isn't really there? I mean, what makes a day? Is it the time we spend in it or the fact that it spins round?"

"Delirium, too, I believe." Madam Pomfrey commented.

Hermione didn't think now was the time to admit he was talking about the time-turner; after all, he was pretty out of it. She spoke up, "Madam, he has a high fever. He fell asleep on his desk last night and thought I was his Mum this morning. He's vomited. He also was really temperamental yesterday."

"How so?" Madam Pomfrey queried.

"Well, he was flying off the handle at the smallest things." Hermione bit her lip, "He thought Filch was Sirius Black polyjuiced and flew off the handle when I told him otherwise."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, "Yes paranoia and aggressiveness are signs of magical exhaustion. When your body recognizes it is running out of magic it starts pumping your body full of adrenaline in order to cause the Wizard or Witch to flee to a safer location so their core can replenish."

"Flight-or-Fight," Hermione whispered. She had forced Fred to keep casting spells; she had called him weak. There was no telling how late he had stayed up casting, driving himself deeper into his paranoia and exhaustion. Hermione had basically told him the Death Eaters were going to kill everyone he cared about if he didn't master silent casting. She was a horrible friend.

"Exactly. However," Madam Pomfrey cast captus summa again. She frowned in frustration, "I'm not getting the readings I would expect from someone with severe magical exhaustion."

"Is it because he's so powerful?"

"Powerful?" Madam Pomfrey's eyes swirled to look at her in scrutiny. "Powerful how?"

Hermione thought best on how to word it, "He reminds me a bit of Dumbledore when he gets mad. That feeling of magic pushing around you and knowing you're just a fish in the sea."

The matron stormed off muttering, "Uric the Oddball, indeed."

"Princess," Fred mumbled from where he had tangled himself up in the bed sheets. "You think I'm like Dumbledore?"

She smiled gently at him and attempted to untangle him, "Sometimes. You both have a horrid taste in colors. I mean, chartreuse? And you're strong like him. But you're different, too. You love to make people laugh. And you care more about your family than anything else. It's sweet. Sometimes I think Dumbledore must be lonely, having no one to care about."

"You have such pretty eyes," Fred smiled dopily, "I think I want -"

"Alright then," Madam Pomfrey returned swiftly. "I've got the Rano right here. I'll need you to move, Miss. Granger."

Hermione watched as Pomfrey fed Fred one capful of the concoction. When he gave no visible response, she fed him another and another. By the tenth Hermione was sure nothing was happening. That was until Fred jumped out of bed and began running around the room, "I'm late! Wood will have my head. I can't believe I'm late."

"Mr. Wesley-"

"I feel great, thanks for asking. Quidditch practice. Gotta run. By Princess," Fred fluttered as he headed towards the door. Hermione blushed as Madam Pomfrey gave her a look. Did he have to call her that? Fred spoke up, "The door is locked! Were is my wand?"

Hermione noticed the errant wand on the nightstand. When Fred approached smiling, she planted her hands on her hips and gave intimidation her best shot. "Fred Gideon Wesley. Madam Pomfrey isn't done with her checkup. You are going to set in that bed and let her finish or so help me you will regret the consequences."

Fred moved his arms about like a windmill, "I feel fine!"

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to step in, "I take it you have never had Rano Potion before?"

"No."

"As it should be. Do sit and I will inform you of the side effects." Madam Pomfrey motioned to the bed for Fred, and she summoned two chairs for Hermione and herself. Fred sat reluctantly; his leg kept bouncing up and down as if he was too full of nervous energy. When they were all situated the matron continued succinctly, "Rano Potion was created to counter affect a drained magical core. It acts by filling the depleted area with artificial magic. Normally a core refills as we sleep, but a core suffering from magical exhaustion is unable to replenish its normal stores. It can't keep up with the output its wizard is demanding if you will. The artificial magic Rano creates gives the Wizard a high for about an hour. All that magic you have been missing is suddenly back. I must stress that this is not real magic, Mr. Weasley, and it is only temporary."

Fred seemed to have calmed himself down by great strength of will. That was the Fred she knew. He asked quietly, "And then what?"

"Then your body will shut down for approximately a day while it replenishes its magical stores the normal way. After that you should be good to cast any spells. But any types of magical transportation: flo, portkey, and apparition will cause severe pain for the next week. I don't think I need to mention that any types of rituals, self-transfiguration, or non-medical potions are out of the question." Madame Pomfrey continued briskly, "Now with your permission I would like to perform a med-scan."

"Uh, sure," Fred shrugged and Madame Pomfrey left them again.

"What's a med-scan?" she asked curiously.

"Oh," Fred smiled, "You will like this. A med-scan is a healer's way of seeing inside your body. I've never had one done, but George had to when he was little and had Dragon Pox. I remember because Mum and Dad were complaining about how expensive it was. Hogwarts covers all medical bills with our tuition, though. Anyways, a med-scan uses a Mur'kor, which is rendered like a Tur'kor but made out of Unicorn skin instead."

"Really?" Hermione asked amazed. There were other parchments out there like the Tur'kor?

"Really, really," he chuckled.

"Here we are." Madame Pomfrey was back with the absolute whitest piece of parchment Hermione had ever seen. She proceeded to have Fred lie flat on his back where she placed the Mur'kor over his chest and chanted a long string of spells. When she was done the Mur'kor glowed faintly with a yellowish hue and the matron picked it up to examine it.

"Tell me Pomfs," Fred commented lightly as he sat up, "Am I dead yet?"

"Not nearly, Mr. Weasley." The matron griped, "And do not joke about such things. For all your poor humor you appear to be in perfect health."

"Oh!" Fred nearly jumped off the bed, "Can you show Hermione my teeth? Her parents are Dentists."

Madame Pomfrey looked at her, "Muggle teeth healers? Very well." Hermione could see the matron adjusting the Mur'kor before it was handed to her.

Even knowing what to expect from the Tur'kor, Hermione was blown away. There on the white parchment was a perfect representation of Fred's pristine teeth, root and all. What she was seeing was as good as any x-ray she had ever been privy to in her parents' office. If this was anything like the Tur'kor, she knew it would be capable of zooming in and out and rotation also. And all this was done with a few spells. Hermione knew she could spend days- no, weeks - looking at this. It was like a compact x-ray, CAT scan, and MRI in one. This Mur'kor could revolutionize healing in the muggle word. That was if there wasn't a Statue of Secrecy. She hoped her voice wasn't cracking, "Madame Pomfrey, what are those faint yellow lines?"

"That's his magic, now if you will allow me to examine it?" Hermione reluctantly handed back the parchment, resolving to look up Mur'kor and their uses first chance she got in the library. Pomfrey spent another minute looking at the Mur'kor, her face showing nothing. When she looked up her tone booked no argument, "Miss Granger you need to leave."

Hermione went to grab her book bag, but before she could Fred wrenched her by the arm to stand beside him on the bed. He stated sternly, "She is kin of my kin."

Sighing, Hermione gently spoke, "Fred, if-"

"If you are sure Mr. Weasley." Madam Pomfrey said, "This is a private matter."

Fred pulled her down until she was sitting beside him in the bed and said determinedly, "I don't keep secrets from Hermione."

"Very well," Madam Pomfrey said disapprovingly. "Are you aware that you are going through a magical growth spurt?"

When Fred said nothing just tilted his head, Hermione decided to speak up, "Don't all magical cores experience their largest growth when were eleven to twenty-one?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, "That growth is quite normal. This is rapid and fluctuating."

"So its bad?" she asked.

"Of course not," Madam Pomfrey answered briskly. "All growth is good growth. His core is just growing too quick for his body to keep up right now."

"What do I do?" Fred asked quietly.

"Do? There's nothing to do but wait for your core to stabilize. In the mean time I will write you an exemption note for your classes. If you start to feel the slightest bit of exhaustion you are to stop casting immediately. It shouldn't prove to much of an issue to a core your size as long as you don't go around casting major spells continually."

"I have to practice," Fred paused and looked at her, "For my O.W.L's." Hermione beamed.

"Very well, then." Madam Pomfrey conceded, "But don't overdue it. Continued use of Rano is not good for the body or core."

Hermione found herself curious, "How big is it, then? His core?"

Madam Pomfrey looked directly at Fred. Hermione was unsure why she wasn't saying anything until Fred spoke up, "I don't care if she knows."

The matron pursed her lips, "Mr. Weasley was a high level Enchanter until last weekend."

Fred groaned, "The House Elves."

"Indeed, Mr. Weasley. I do hope this further illustrates the dangers of testing unknown Magics," Madam Pomfrey lectured sternly. "And while I have you both here. It is admirable to stand up for a friend, Miss Granger, but lying about a person's medical condition is a piss poor way to get them killed. You should have never left the hospital wing with me believing such a thing. 50 points from Gryffindor."

Hermione hung her head in shame. Not even Fred's arm wrapping around her shoulder helped very much. What made it worse was Madam Pomfrey was completely right; not only had that dark curse hurt Fred then it had cause him magical issues too. Hermione looked up at Fred, "I'm sorry."

He smiled gently at her, "It's okay. This just means I have to win the quidditch cup." Fred's attention turned to Pomfrey, "So I guess that means I'm a Warlock now? That's not so bad, I can live with that. The Wesley Warlock. Has a nice ring."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, "I am afraid you should have been using that last week. According to my readings, as of yesterday you are a Sorcerer. Congratulations, Mr. Weasley."

"What?" Fred asked hoarsely.

"Pardon me," Hermione asked curiously, "But what does all this have to do with core size?"

"The GWS - or Grand Wizards Scale - is the way we nominally measure a wizards core. It ranges from 0 being a Muggle up to 1000, anything over we call a Mage. That's why I was so thrown off by the reading of Mr. Weasley's captus summa results. I kept getting a score of 115 which is perfectly respectable for any Wizard." Madam Pomfrey informed them both solemnly, "However, Mr. Weasley is a Sorcerer. According to his med-scan, his current GWS high point should be 583. Frankly I'm surprised you managed to walk in here."

"It's stopping right?" Fred sounded desperate. "It won't continue growing like that?"

"While the spurt is slowing, you still have your normal growth to contend with. As you know, a Grand Sorcerer has a measured GWS of 750. Seeing as you are still only fifteen, I wouldn't be surprised if you reached there before your twenty-first."

Fred groaned and put his head in his hands. Hermione was a bit unsure as to what the problem was, still she rubbed his back and consoled him, "It will be okay."

"Okay?" Fred whined, "Dumbledore is a Grand Sorcerer. I can't lead the Wizengamot and rule Hogwarts and those things." He threw his hands out.

"No one is asking you to do those things," Hermione chided gently.

"They will," Madam Pomfrey spoke up. "Larger magical cores can charge more runes simultaneously. You didn't think the Headmaster held so many titles as a flight of whimsy, Miss. Granger? He does it because no one else can. Hogwarts wards would be substantially weaker without him."

Why didn't they learn any of this in History of magic? Hermione bit her lip, "The only other Grand Sorcerer's I've ever heard of are Sidley Platter and Podric Batworthy. So that means that they can work without the larger core."

Madam Pomfrey chastised, "A lot of wizards don't go around talking about the size of their core. Ask anyone and they will tell you You-Know-Who was a Grand Sorcerer. The same can be said for Grindelwald, though there are some of his personal healers that swear he's a Mage. That's why he's still alive in Nurmengard."

"A Mage?" Fred asked with a little awe, "Blimey. No wonder he was so unstoppable."

Madam Pomfrey nodded before straightening her skirts, "Now then, I do believe its time for you to get back to the dorm. Unless you would like to stay here overnight?"

"Uh, no thanks. Ma'am." Fred mumbled quickly.

"Very well. Miss Granger, if you can come with me I will get you Mr. Weasley's notes for class." Madam Pomfrey headed off into her office. Smiling at Fred, Hermione followed off after her. When she got into the office Madam Pomfrey turned on her sharply, "Miss Granger, I must impress on you the magnitude of this issue, and insist on your discretion."

Hermione defended herself briskly, "I would never betray Fred."

"Not purposely, I'm sure." The matron smiled kindly, "My father was a Muggleborn, you know? Even when I was little and Mother would want to take me to the Solstice celebrations, I always got the feeling he was a little bit lost. It's hard to fit in somewhere you don't belong."

"But I-"

"Miss Granger. If the Purebloods find out about Mr. Weasley's core size he will get more marriage proposals overnight than you can imagine. Some his parents won't be in a position to refuse." Madam Pomfrey concluded harshly. Marriage? They would force Fred into marriage over this? Like he was some kind of prize stud? Madam Pomfrey handed her a slip of paper, "Here is his letter for class. You make sure and hold on to that man out there. He'll make you a good husband."

With that Madam Pomfrey showed her out of the office. Hermione hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt. Marry Fred? Sure he was smart, sweet, and powerful but he also had a temper to rival a nest of angry hornets. That witch was out of her mind.

Fred greeted her at the doors to the hospital wing and enquired, "Is something wrong?"

"No," she stammered, "Why would you say that?"

"You are all red," he pointed towards her cheeks.

"Oh, Madam Pomfrey just made a joke."

"Really," he asked excitedly, "What was it?"

"Nothing."

"Com'on, Princess!" he protested. "That's like saying Snape smiled and not getting a picture."

Hermione chuckled, "I'm afraid it was a girl thing."

Fred puckered out his lower lip and pouted.

As they began to ascend the grand staircase towards the dormitories, Hermione found herself determined, "Fred?"

"Yes?"

"If we are going to keep doing you-know-what-"

"Operation Fawn?" Fred supplied helpfully.

"Yes," she nodded assertively, "If we are going to keep at that, then I need you to let me know if you are feeling bad. I can't know if something is wrong unless you tell me."

Fred watched his feet for a few moments silently before saying, "Alright. I can't make any promises, mind. I'm just not used to feeling bad. So I'm not sure what is normal and what is not. I guess I don't want to seem like I'm complaining over nothing. But I will try to let you know when I think I'm having issues."

Hermione nudged him in the shoulder, "That's all I ask."

As they approached the common room portal and Fred let out an earsplitting yawn, "In ordnance with our new agreement, I think I'm doing that crashing thing."

"Azkaban." Hermione told the Fat Lady as they headed in the common room past the herd of students headed to Hogsmeade. Fred began to lean on her heavily as they approached the staircase to the boys' dormitory. She tugged his heavy form up the stairs, "I thought I was done carrying you for the day."

"I appreciate it," he muttered, "Do you think you could let Wood know I won't be coming? Oh, this door." Hermione knocked and entered a room with five beds, unsure of which bed to pick.

"Wesley," a short pudgy boy spoke up from beside the bed closet to the window, "Didn't anyone tell you that our common room was not your personal whore house?"

"Fuck off Towler," Fred slurred.

Towler narrowed his eyes, "Are you drunk? This is too good. I think I might just have to tell McGonagall, deal or no deal."

Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know the deals George was getting into with his roommates. "He's sick, Madam Pomfrey ordered me to bring him to bed."

"It best not be contagious," Towler huffed and stormed out of the room.

"He's not very nice, is he?" Hermione asked.

"Rich assed pansy," Fred grumbled while stumbling towards the bed on the right. He reached for a shirt and stumbled towards the hamper. "Put the clothes in the laundry," he grumbled while sitting on the nearest bed. The trunk was very threadbare and had the initials "BW" on it's front. He perched precariously on the bed trying to get his worn boots off; they were probably one size too small. Ultimately, the right boot won the fight and he crashed to the floor.

"Fred!" Hermione reached for him concerned.

"S'alright," he slurred waving his hand negligibly.

Hermione sighed and began to turn down the bed, hoping she wouldn't have to levitate him off the floor. When she turned around she found herself in front of a well-muscled chest- a very naked chest. It was sparsely decorated with light ginger hair and toned in a way that spoke of weeks of quidditch practice and beaters' bats. Hermione felt her mouth go dry. Was this what Pomfrey meant? Fred was fumbling with his belt buckle. What should she do? Should she leave the room? Should she stay? His pants hit the floor. What if-

Fred tumbled face first into bed, limbs splayed every which way. Hermione was distantly aware that his socks were still on. Along with, thankfully, his briefs. Allowing herself a brief moment of hysterical chuckles, Hermione gently removed his socks, tucked him in and released the drapes around his bed. She allowed herself one minute to thread her fingers through his hair. She had first noticed it last weekend in the hospital wing and had been instantly jealous. How anyone was deserving of hair so silky smooth she didn't know. All she knew is she could probably pet his hair for hours. Fred leaned slightly into her touch looking for the entire world innocent. Didn't she know better.

On her way out of the room, Hermione threw Fred's clothes into the laundry so the House Elves would clean it. She noticed the bed next to his had a newer trunk with the letters 'GW'. It was odd that Fred had a trunk from one of his older brothers while George received a new one. Hermione wondered as to the story behind that.

Making her way down the stairs, Hermione heard Ron curiously ask behind her, "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Oh," Hermione turned to look at Ron. "Well, Fred's sick, and Madam Pomfrey ordered me to bring him to bed."

"Fred?" Ron frowned. "Are you sure it wasn't George? I could have sworn Fred never gets sick. He's like a supper-wizard that way."

"It's Fred alright."

"Odd. Maybe they had a prank backfire or something," Ron shrugged, "Anyways, I just got through feeding Scabbers his tonic. I'm headed down to breakfast then Hogsmeade. You game?"

"Sure," Hermione answered, "Just let me drop my book bag off and I'll join you."

"Don't tell me you have been studying all morning?" Ron complained as they headed towards the common room.

"Honestly, Ron. It was a little light reading. Just give me a minute." Hermione ran up to her room, dropped off her book bag, and grabbed her purse. Returning down the stairs she met up with Ron. "We also need to stop of by the quidditch pitch and tell Wood why the twins aren't there."

"Both of them?" Ron frowned, "I thought you said just Fred was sick."

As they made their way out the portrait hole, Hermione snickered, "He is. But earlier at breakfast George took a swing at Professor Snape." Had that really been only this morning? It felt like longer, but she supposed illegal time-turner trips had a way of doing that.

"Bloody Hell! I wish I would have known. I might have gotten up early for that," Ron exclaimed, "What'd the greasy bat do?"

Hermione frowned, "He said some really unflattering things about your mom."

"Where was Fred in all of this? I can't imagine he took that lying down. He's way more aggressive then George is," Ron countered.

"He was just sitting there," Hermione said idly. He must not have been felling good then either; before they did that disastrous time-jump day in which he burned more magic. "I took him to the hospital wing afterwards. He was really out of it. I mean, he kept calling me Mum and Princess."

Ron laughed, "That's just too good. George takes a swing at old Snape and Fred gets away with calling you Princess. I might have to get the prats a birthday gift after all."

"Birthday?" Hermione stopped short. Fred had a birthday? Of course he did. What should she get? What would he like? Did he expect something? Should a small gift like she got for her cousins? Or a bigger gift like she got Harry who had nobody? What should-

"Yeah," Ron continued, "It's Friday. Trust those two pranksters to be born on April Fools. Usually I just let them prank me for the day and don't tell Mum. Last year they somehow got into all my toiletries. My shampoo turned my hair purple, the soap gave me scales, my comb gave made my hair stick up everywhere, and then all my school supplies were running around everywhere. It was absolute chaos." Hermione vaguely remembered that. She wondered what Fred was going to do to him this year. It kind of seemed cruel. "I don't mind because it's the one day I actually know they're coming. I can expect it. April 1st: prepare to be pranked."

"I suppose," Hermione said as they entered the great hall, "But they better not come after me."

Ron chuckled, "I don't think you have to worry about that."

As Ron sat down and began loading his plate with mountains of food, Hermione took a scone and nibbled on it. She was unsure of what gift to get for Fred. Something useful was a must. Money wasn't the issue, but she didn't want it to seem like she thought he was poor. A new trunk? The one he had worked. Some kind of quidditch gear? She didn't know the first thing about what he had and didn't. All they ever talked about was Arithmancy. There was a thought; she could buy him a new Tur'kor. Or maybe a seal for the one he had. What else did Spellcrafters even need? "Ron?"

"Yes, Hermione?" Ron answered, his mouth full of hash.

"Swallow your food," Hermione chastised disgusted. "Do you know a Lovegood in Ginny's year?"

"Do you mean Loony? She's that girl sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table with her blouse inside out. What do you want with her?" Ron gestured to a pale blond girl with a quill sticking out one ear and her wand in the other. Her blouse was indeed inside out, and she appeared to be wearing only one shoe. How odd.

"I just need to ask her a few questions for a school project. Do you think you could run by the quidditch pitch and I will meet you at the gate?"

"Sure," Ron shrugged. "I'll warn you though, she's a bit out of it. Hasn't been straight since her Mum died."

Hermione smiled faintly and headed towards the Ravenclaw table. Loony appeared to be reading her potions book upside down while sipping tea. Clearing her throat she asked hesitantly, "Loony Lovegood?"

Loony turned to her with wide eyes, "Have you come bearing Nargles?"

"Pardon?" Hermione asked bewildered.

"Nargles." Loony explained, "There the little creatures that steel your things. Hogwarts seems to have quite the infestation."

"I'm afraid I haven't seen any."

"Well you can't actually see them. They wouldn't think it fun that way." Loony shook her head, "No, they just take your things and run off when you aren't looking."

Hermione was skeptical, but her best friend was currently suffering from magical exhaustion from a 1400-year-old dark curse only he could sense. So she sat down and asked, "What do they usually take?"

"Oh, my clothes, shoes, homework. Anything really," Loony commented idly while sipping her tea.

"Loony," Hermione said concerned, "I've been here three years and none of my stuff has gone missing like that."

"Oh? Perhaps that's because you are a Gryffindor. Maybe the Nargles are only in Ravenclaw tower, then."

Or perhaps it was because people were stealing the stuff. Hermione had had that problem in fourth grade. Some students took her homework and turned it in as theirs in a different class. Luckily the teachers noticed that the work was so above par and realized what had happened. Hermione had also had her parent's to help her out. She hated bullies. Patting Loony gently on the arm she asked, "Are there any other infestations in Ravenclaw tower?"

Loony tilted her head to the side, "Now that you mention it, some people seem to have more Wrackspurts than others."

"Really? Who are those people? What do these Wrackspurts do?"

"Oh, they are a sign of negative thoughts. They cloud the brain and make it all fuzzy. Make you do things you know you shouldn't." Like bully second years, then. Loony knew who her bullies were and hadn't told anyone. Or maybe she had tried. Maybe she always talked like this? Is this what Ron meant by not all there? She continued idly, "The ones most infected are Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe."

Two forth years, picking on a second. How despicable. Hermione growled, "It must be very serious, then." As soon Fred woke up she was telling him. Something would be done.

Loony blinked owlishly, "I'm not sure I got your name?"

"How rude of me," Hermione exclaimed and held out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Loony shook her hand and smiled dreamily, "Luna Lovegood, but feel free to keep calling me Loony. Everyone already does." Hermione was going to curse Ron with slugs. "Was there something you needed?"

"Oh. Right. Well, actually, this may be a little personal-"

"Most questions are," Luna said airily.

Hermione smiled. Luna almost reminded her of Fred. When he was trying to cheer her up, not when he was terrifying her with magical exhaustion and it's side effects. "Anyways, I was wondering if you could tell me what the one thing your Mom couldn't do without as a Spellcrafter."

Luna stared at her at her with her big silver eyes for so long Hermione thought it might be the best idea to just get up and leave. Until she said faintly, "I watched her die. She was standing there one minute and the next she was gone. Spellcrafting is dangerous."

"I know that," Hermione insisted.

"I don't think you really do." Luna tilted her head and moved in closer. Hermione found herself staring into Luna's two owlish eyes as she whispered hoarsely, "But you will."

Hermione felt goosebumps crawling up her skin, "Does that mean you will help me?"

Luna hummed, "I suppose you already know about Tur'kor?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you can afford it, the one thing you really need is a Blood Grimoire. They allow you to cast spells without seals so that you can experiment before you set them. Only the person they are bound to can do this, mind. But any true Spellcrafter worth their salt has one. Of course, if you can't get a Spell Atom out of a Tur'kor I wouldn't even bother." Luna patted her on the shoulder gently and said sweetly, "You must be a Muggleborn. Do us all a favor, and don't go messing with Magic's that will get you killed. Have a nice day." With that Luna grabbed her Potions book and skipped off.

A little unsure of what to make of Luna, Hermione left the great hall and headed for the castle entrance. When she didn't see Ron there, she headed towards the Quidditch pitch. Once there, Ron cheerfully informed her, "Go on without me Hermione. Wood's letting me play beater, since the twins are slacking off. Can you imagine? Me on the Quidditch team." Hermione headed towards Hogsmeade, a little upset that Fred having magical exhaustion was considered 'slacking off.' She wondered what Wood would call missing an actual game.

Meandering through the bustle of the small town, she quickly arrived at the local Gringotts branch. Unlike the larger bank in Diagon Ally, this one kept cash on hand and withdrew amounts from its customer's vaults back in London. It was more like a Muggle bank, and a method Hermione found infinitely more sensible. There was only one teller in the branch, a shorter goblin by the name of Grubstake who availed himself to butterbeer while he worked. Grubstake had his feet on the counter as Hermione approached, "I'd like to make a withdrawal."

"Do yah got a key, then?" Grubstake motioned at her with his tankard.

Hermione nodded briskly, "Certainly." Pulling her silver key out from her purse she handed it over to Grubstake's long spindly fingers. Her parents electronically transferred £250 a month into Gringotts as part of her allowance.

Grubstake took the key a chewed on it with his yellowed teeth. Hermione was sure she could see at least one cavity and a few missing teeth from here. "That'd be real, that is. I suppose you want soma my gold, then?" he spat.

She had the vaguest notion that perhaps they sent the odd Goblins to work away from Gringotts on purpose. Surly he wouldn't fit in with London's suits and snotty manners. But how much did she want? She hadn't taken more than 50G out all year. Since her parents had started the account when they had heard she would be able to go to Hogsmeade, and the conversion rate was £5 to 1G, that meant she now had close to 500G available. Luna had said a Blood Grimoire would be expensive and she might want to get Fred some extra Tur'kor too. Plus maybe she could buy herself a nice thing or two since she didn't have Ron hanging around to get jealous. Nodding to herself Hermione stated, "150 Galleons, please."

Grubstake's eyes lit up, "5 Galleon fee for that. Moving that much gold, it's difficult, see?"

Narrowing her eye's Hermione argued, "2 Galleons and no more. You already have to send ledgers to London and I'm sure they refill your vault for you."

Grubstake smirked and wiped his claws on his filthy shirt. He reached under his desk and pulled out three small bags no bigger than tennis balls. Pulling loose the drawstrings on one he plucked out 2 Galleons. He smiled oily as he bit into the gold and leaned back in his chair. "148 Gallons as agreed. For your generous donation, I'll even include the bags."

Hermione - well aware that she had been played - grabbed the bags and her key and left the bank. Furiously wiping the key on her cloak she resolved to not do business there ever again. On her way towards Tomes and Scrolls, Hermione made a list of everything she needed to get. A Blood Grimoire, something that explained the GSW in depth, a new warding book perhaps, and maybe a book on spell casting for Fred. She could also use a Rune carving kit for herself. They normally didn't get into carving until fifth year, but Hermione thought she was ready.

Entering the bookshop, Hermione first went to the warding section. She found a very interesting tome called Set in Stone that went over basic wards and how to carve them in Runes. It also included basic positioning of the Runes and went over the ways each ward was most effective as well as its weak points. Deciding this was the book for her, Hermione grabbed it and started browsing the store. Though she found many other interesting tomes, they were all reliably available in the Hogwarts library. Approaching the portly proprietor she asked, "I wouldn't suppose you have anything on Spellcrafting or the GSW?"

Mr. Jennings peered at her over the top of his large spectacles, "Spellcrafting, now that's something we don't get much call for. I think you would have to check Obscures Books in Diagon for those. As for the GSW, a medical primer will show you the basics. But you will be wanting more than that, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then. I don't keep it up front. Doubt they have a copy at Hogwarts, either. Too controversial. Mind you, there was a time where more children were interested in politics." Mr. Jennings dug around under the cashier before placing a thin blood red book on the counter. On its cover was a large inscription of a circle inside a triangle bisected by a diagonal line; the book was entitled The Mudblood Menace by Gellert Grindelwald.

Hermione felt as though she had swallowed a lemon. Grindelwald was the source of the GSW? That couldn't be right. "Sidley Platter was born in 1500. He was a Grand Sorcerer. So shouldn't the GSW have been around for hundreds of years before Grindelwald?"

"A real historian, aren't you? Old Binns better watch his ectoplasm," Mr. Jennings grinned. "Right you are that the GSW has been around for a while. It was actually invented in 1011 by Rowena Ravenclaw herself. That's why they call it Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry; you're guaranteed to be one when you graduate. But I digress. This," he tapped the cover of The Mudblood Menace, "Was Grindelwald's cornerstone. He spent years working on this in Dumstrang, testing the GSW of all of his classmates. No one had ever thought to compile such an in-depth study of magical cores until then. He actually got his Charms Mastery for it. Plenty of people have duplicated the research since then - many trying to prove him wrong - but all results come out the same." He pushed the book towards her.

Hermione took the book hesitantly. She was very aware that it was written by the wizarding world's version of Hitler; that it would most likely give very convincing reasoning for her lesser worth. Her Mom had always warned her against biased authors. This was an author who if he had a chance would escape from his stone prison and try and kill her. She had to read his reason why. Mr. Jennings was watching her shrewdly; did he know she was a muggleborn somehow? Steeling herself she nodded and placed her two books on the counter, "You wouldn't happen to also have a Blood Grimoire?"

Mr. Jennings chuckled, "My, my, but you are an interesting lassie. You will want Scrivenshaft's for that. Most quill and parchment shops sell specialty items if you ask the clerk. They don't go leaving their enchanted parchments out on the selves." He rung up her items, "That'll be 8G."

Hermione handed him the money and went back outside into the bitter March winds. On her way towards Scrivenshaft's, she passed by Dervish & Banges and went in to look for a Rune carving kit. They had three. One was obviously just for wood, so she eliminated it immediately. Out of the other two Hermione was unsure of what would be best. Both had several sizes of chisels, a hammer, and some chalk; however, one had crystal handles while the other was made out of beautiful black marble. Aware of how helpful Mr. Jennings had been, Hermione decided to ask the clerk. Approaching the sharply dressed older lady she kindly asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me which one of these Rune sets would work best for me?"

The lady took one look at her and ripped both sets out of her hand, "I doubt they are anything someone like you can afford."

"Pardon?" Hermione asked quite perturbed. She vaguely wished Fred was here, or baring that at least Ron. "I assure you I wouldn't be looking at them if I didn't have the means of payment."

The clerk's withered eyes narrowed, "You have 15 Gallons?"

"Of course," Hermione affirmed.

"Fine then," the old lady sneered condescendingly. She sat the marble set down on the till and rung it up, "Pay up and get out."

Hermione was unsure how people always knew she was a Muggleborn. Perhaps it was because the magical world was just that small. Deciding to be the bigger witch, she kindly asked the clerk, "What about the other set?"

"As if someone like you could use crystals," the lady scoffed.

"How much?" Hermione demanded.

"30 Galleons."

Well aware that she wouldn't be getting a better offer, Hermione pulled out the gold. "I'll take them."

The clerk furiously put the crystal carving kit on the counter. When Hermione reached for them her arm was grasped tightly. The older witch pulled her in close until Hermione couldn't ignore her putrid breath and spat, "Don't die too quickly, Mudblood."

Hermione grabbed the kit and fled the store. Wiping the spit and tears from her face with Fred's handkerchief, she took a moment to regain her equilibrium in a back ally. Hermione reflected it was times like this she hated being born a witch.

When she felt calm, she made her way up to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Much like the bookshop, it smelled of fresh parchment and ink. Hermione browsed for a moment the new line of color-changing ink while the clerk finished a translation. Hoping that this frump woman would prove nicer, Hermione approached cautiously, "Excuse me? I was wondering if you could help me out?"

"Of course dear," the woman beamed, "What can I do for you today? Some new parchment? Perhaps some multi-colored ink? A diary?"

"No thank you," Hermione shook her head, "I was wondering if you had a Blood Grimoire in stock?"

"A Blood Grimoire? Don't get much call for those," she frowned, "What did you say your name was?"

Here we go again. Hermione stood tall, "I didn't. Hermione Granger. Yes, I'm a muggleborn."

"Goddess girl," the woman laughed, "I didn't ask your blood type. No, I was just curious. Not many people care to know about the Arts these days. As long as they can wave a stick they are perfectly content. Pelisse Goodall, half-blood. In case you were wondering."

Shaking hands Hermione apologized contritely, "I'm sorry. It's just I had some trouble with the clerk at Dervish & Banges."

Ms. Goodall raised one auburn eyebrow, "Old Felicity? Her husband and son were supporters of Grindelwald and now both her grandsons are in Azkaban for being Death Eaters- inner circle at that. You'd best stay clear. Now, what kind of Grimoire where you looking for?"

Was most of the magical world out to kill her? Nothing for it but to be on guard. Or maybe she would stop shopping by herself. "A Blood Grimoire," Hermione answered. When Ms. Goodall still looked at her expectantly, she quickly added, "The kind used for Tur'kor."

Ms. Goodall eyed her appreciatively, "I'm not in the business to lose money, now, but you can't be that far into Arithmancy Miss Granger. It might be best for you to get a Tur'kor first and play around."

"Oh. It's not for me. It's for a friend. His birthday is coming up. He's about completed his current Atom. I was just thinking it would be such a waste for him to erase it and start over," she answered.

"There's a Spellcrafter at Hogwarts? Who? There hasn't been one in England in years," Ms. Goodall asked excitedly.

Hermione got a flashback to Madam Pomfrey's excitement when she had declared Fred a Sorcerer. Apparently there were some skills that were coveted. She should have expected it since there were so few Spellcrafters in existence. Aware that this might be another situation that could lead to marriage proposals, she cautiously said, "I'm not at liberty to say. But I will tell him you asked."

"Very well. A Blood Grimoire is what you want. They bind to the users core; this allows for the owner to summon it from anywhere and prevents anyone else from opening it." Ms. Goodall pulled out a thick leather bound book whose binding wrapped around to the front where a large silver medallion rested. She continued, "To initiate the binding you place three drops of blood on the medallion. The Grimoire itself is 80 Gallons. For me to cast the spell to make the core binding go both ways - this is how a Spellcrafter uses the book to cast spells - that's another 20 Gallons."

Hermione blinked astonished.100G? £500 for a book? Really? That was a bit outrageous. Still, if this book did everything it said it did, Fred would love it. Looking at the book curiously Hermione asked, "How does it work with a Tur'kor?"

Ms. Goodall pulled out a blank piece of blue parchment she immediately recognized as a Tur'kor. She unfolded the book and turned to the blank page, "Well, you simply take the Tur'kor- like so - and place it on the blank page. To remove it you peel it back with your wand. All the other functions of the Tur'kor work the same. Once the feedback spell is cast a box will appear at the bottom of the Tur'kor when it is placed in the Grimoire. This box will remain cloudy until an Atom is formed, at which point it will choose the best Latin chant that matches the spell. Of course, the Latin is just an approximation, it is up to the Spellcaster to find the correct incantation."

So once you found the Atom this book gave you the incantation. To be sure making an actual Atom had taken Fred the Arithmancy prodigy months. It was obvious not everyone could make use of this, but for Fred it was perfect. "100 Galleons seems a bit outrageous. Surely casting a spell can't be worth much. I'll pay you that much if you throw in two Tur'kor."

"That spell significantly drains my core. 115 Galleons," Ms. Goodall countered.

Aware she didn't have that much she countered, "110 and not a Knut more."

Ms. Goodall sighed dramatically and clutched her threadbare cloak, "I expect you tell your boyfriend I'm the best parchment provider, hear?"

Hermione blushed and ducked her head. Why did everyone think she and Fred were dating? This woman didn't even know Fred! Did people not buy friends birthday presents? Pulling the reaming gold pouches out of her purse she murmured, "Deal."

Ms. Goodall cackled joyfully while counting the coin, "No need to be flushed dearie. He must be some catch if you're willing to go through all this trouble. Just give me a minute to cast the reverse binding." Beginning a long incantation, her skin was thick with perspiration by the time she finished and the Blood Grimoire flashed blue. "Always takes a lot out, those things do. That's you set, then."

"Thank You." Hermione picked up the Grimoire gently. She could actually feel its magic thrumming beneath her fingertips and wondered briefly just what enchantments were on it that made it so strong. Placing it in the bag she had received from the bookshop, she left the store with a quick, "See you next time, Ms. Goodall."

"Anytime, dearie."

Aware she had spent all her money already, Hermione decided to head back up to the castle and began reading Set in Stone. She would work on The Mudblood Menace when she could concentrate and keep her dinner down. Half way up the path Hermione herd a discounted 'meow' that sounded like Crooks. Looking to her left she saw her ginger-haired cat being loomed over by a massive black dog. The obvious stray looked like it had been in one to many dumpsters and its coat was showing obvious signs of mange. Hermione wiped out her wand and shot out a series of tripping jinxes, "Shoo! Stay away from my cat! Bad doggie! Out. Be gone!"

Coming closer to Crooks she saw the half-kneezle looking up at her curiously unafraid. Scooping him up Hermione held Crooks close, "Oh my poor baby, did that big mean dog try and eat you? Mommy is so sorry! Let's get you into the nice warm tower and I'll get you some milk. Would you like that, huh?"

Crooks purred under her ministrations as they headed up to the common room.

Unfortunately, once there they were immediately confronted with an irate Ron Weasley. "There it is! There's the menace!" Ron said while jabbing his finger at Crooks.

"Ron?"

Harry interjected, "That cat of yours did it this time. We got back from playing quidditch to find he had killed Scabbers. Look!" Ron held up a rat-tail and some of Crooks' fur.

Crooks jumped down from her arms and approached Ron. When Harry pulled his wand, Hermione snapped furiously, "Don't you dare! A bunch of hair proves nothing."

Harry scowled, "It does look suspicious."

Glaring at the both of them she continued, "Besides, Crooks couldn't have done it anyways. He was in Hogsmeade being accosted by some giant black dog just now. I brought him back up to the castle myself. There's no way he could have eaten Scabbers and them made it all the way down there this morning."

Harry deflated, "Oh."

"How big of a dog?" Ron asked shakily.

"Huge. I've never seen the sort. Must have come well past my hip. It was obviously some stray- I mean its fur was all mangy and-"

Ron attacking her in a bear hug cut off Hermione. "I'm so sorry Hermione, here I was all worried about Scabbers, and you've done been visited by a Grimm."

Patting his back gently she consoled, "Ron I'm sure it was just a dog."

"No, no. It was a Grimm." Ron pulled back and spoke hauntingly:

"Grimm comes for all man

Sets out from graveyard to take his due

Black night, larger than man or prey

Grimm comes for you!"

"You mean the kind of Grimm Trelawney keeps seeing for me?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yeah." Ron confirmed, "And the only reason it didn't kill Hermione, was because Scabbers was closer to death."

Hermione spoke up, "That's ridiculous."

Ron protested, "It's not. I had one kill my Gramps."

"Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly, "I keep seeing these things what if-"

"Well," Ron pondered, "It's probably the same one Hermione saw in Hogsmeade today. Maybe we will get lucky and it will off Snape."

As the boys chattered on, Hermione was again aghast at the rampant superstition in the wizarding world. You see a giant black dog, so that makes death okay? She would have to change that. Right after she made being a Muggleborn sociably acceptable. And freed the House Elves from their curse. Sometimes being the only forward thinking witch was so hard.

…o0o…

When April 2nd rolled around Hermione tiredly rolled out of bed. Somehow what had started out as the twins' birthday party had turned into an all night celebration of the beginning of Easter break. Hermione had intended to give Fred his gift then, but around 10 he had left the party and never returned. So she spent the evening with Harry and Ronnette; Ron had somehow been turned into a girl - breasts and all - for the day. She wasn't very worried since she could just give Fred his presents when they went back for the day. At least she had taken the time yesterday to ask Dobby to bring a cake to the Fawn room with the rest of the food. It would make it seem like she had planed the whole thing.

At breakfast she couldn't find any of her favorite jam and the pumpkin juice tasted odd. She grumbly ate some cereal instead. Ron and Harry were excitedly discussing how much quidditch practice they could get in the next two weeks. She had the brief thought to remind them about the mountain of homework, but if she wasn't making Fred do his she definitely wasn't making them. When they failed maybe they would finally learn their lesson.

Towards the end of her meal Percy's screech Owl Hermes came barreling in making an absolute racket. Everyone turned to stare at the odd spectacle of the disgruntled bird barreling towards the Head Boy.

Ron snorted, "Wonder if Percy forgot to escort the firsts to the express?"

"Don't be ridiculous Ronald, Percy's perfectly punctual. Besides the express doesn't leave for another two hours," Hermione chastised.

"Uh, Hermione?" Harry asked, "Is something wrong with your watch? Mine says it's 8:02. The express leaves at 9."

Hermione screeched and grabbed Harry's wrist. Somehow her watch was a whole hour behind. How had that happened? She was late to see Fred. Grabbing a piece of toast she bolted for the Fawn room. Behind her she heard Ron say, "Mental."

She had made it out of the great hall corridor and was headed towards the staircase when she heard Percy Weasley hollering frantically, "Granger! Wait up!" However, when she turned around she didn't see him. Odd. Maybe they could catch up later today-tomorrow.

Luckily no teachers were around to see her running up the hallway. She made it to the Fawn room in record time to find Fred nervously pacing back and forth outside the tapestry. "Fred!"

Fred turned to her and sighed heavily, "You came."

"Of course. Sorry I'm late. My watch is off an hour."

"It's no big deal," he shrugged his shoulders. "Shall we?"

Turning back time and entering the room Hermione was quickly pulled back by Fred who was standing point with his wand. Unsure of what had him so on edge and unable to see around him and the- Where those walls? "Uh, Fred? I asked Dobby to come up here and decorate a little while we weren't here."

"Oh." Fred relaxed. "If he calls this decorating, I would hate to see what he does if you actually ask him to make something."

Hermione stepped pass Fred and down the now much longer hallway to enter what could only be described as a common room. On the left was now a large fireplace and several full bookshelves to each side. All the furniture was elegant large wood pieces in Gryffindor colors. Taking a peak in one of the new stone rooms revealed a full bedroom set. And there was a newly expanded bathroom with shower and plumbing! "Fred?"

"Yes?"

"House Elves are amazing."

"Sure are. Something you want to tell me?"

"Pardon?"

"The cake." Fred pointed to the double layer chocolate confection on the new dining table dominating the center of the room.

Hermione had forgotten all about it looking around the room. "Happy Birthday."

"My birthday was-"

"Today." She smiled. "Who ever gets to say they had two birthdays in a row?"

Fred chuckled. "Does that mean I get cake for breakfast?"

"Only if you open your presents first."

"You bought presents for me?" Fred asked startled.

Did he not expect her to get him any? "Of course."

"Should we wait until later so George can be here?"

"Why would we do that?" Hermione asked.

Fred shrugged, "Most presents are for both of us."

"Well these are for just you."

"Oh. Okay."

Hermione was more glad than ever she had taken the time to get Fred presents. Not expecting your own presents on your birthday. Honestly! She dug around in her bag and pulled out the first two presents. Handing the red stich covered parcels to Fred she said, "These first."

"There's more? Hermione, I-"

"Open."

Fred smiled mischievously and shook both the packages, "Let me guess, books?" He opened the first one delicately: gently pealing off the tape and folding back the wrapping paper. When he finally saw what it was he gasped, "Hermione."

"Father says it's a harder level book then the ones you have been using. It also addresses how to create three-dimensional shapes in Math. I thought it was time you had your own to read."

Hermione was pleased to see Fred gently flip through the book for a few minutes before moving to the next present. He frowned curiously, "Chemistry?"

"Yes. This book is all about the Atoms that I told you Muggles have discovered. I thought it might give you some ideas," she explained.

Fred smiled at her, "These are brilliant, Princess. Thanks."

"There's one more," Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the bulkier package of the Grimoire.

As soon as the package cleared her bag, Fred's shoulders stiffened. "Hermione, whatever that is it has more magic than most children."

That much? Hermione wondered what it must be like to feel that kind of magic coming from an inanimate object. "It's not dark, I promise."

Fred looked at her askance before hesitantly taking the package. He tore off the wrapping paper and hesitantly traced his fingers over the Blood Grimoire. "Hermione, this is-"

"It's a Blood Grimoire," she beamed. "It will allow you to cast spells you create before you permanently seal them."

"That's amazing. But I really can't take this."

"Nonsense. You need this and I'm giving it to you. It's what friends do," Hermione insisted. Weasley's and their aversion to receiving things.

Fred shook his head and smiled faintly, "I guess I have no choice." He gave her a hug. "Thank you."

"Great!" Hermione beamed, "So now you can bond with the book and we can try to cast your spell."

Fred backed up and frowned, "Actually I was wanting to practice the Patronus Charm now that I'm not exhausted."

"Oh, okay." Hermione said, "I guess I can read."

"Cake first!" Fred exclaimed.

When they were done Hermione went over to the new love seat and pulled out The Mudblood Menace. If she could create a spell she would cast it the first chance she got. Perhaps Grindelwald would give her something else to think about besides Fred being confusing. Turning to the Introduction she began to read:

The GSW scale is commonly used in medicine to determine when a magical core is running low. The scale classifies magic users into distinct categories: Muggle (0-10) Squib (10-25), Adept (26-100), Wizard (101-200), Enchanter (201-350), Warlock (350-500), Sorcerer (500-750), and Grand Sorcerer (750-1000) with anything above being called Mage. A child has to be Adept or above in order to have a magical core capable of casting magic. Recently a disturbing trend of Squib births has infected the Magical community. Magical hospitals are reporting an overall GSW decrease of 15% within the last 300 years. Magic is decreasing at a steady rate and no one is working to eradicate the real menace. This book contains GSW studies of hundreds of students through their school years introducing different known methods of increasing a growing magical core. All Pureblood subjects achieved the status of at least Enchanter and in many cases Warlock. However, a disturbing trend quickly showed up: no Muggleborn ever achieved above Wizard. Therefore it is my conclusion that marrying Muggleborn's is diluting the overall concentration of magic and muddying it down. They are a Mudblood Menace.

"Did you see?" Fred's voice cut through her panic. "I- what is that?"

"Nothing."

Fred snatched the book out of her hands. "Where did you get this?"

"The bookstore."

"He sold it to you? Hermione, this book has compulsions on it to make Muggleborn's turn themselves into Grindelwald for extermination. It's about as dark as they get." Fred explained sternly.

Hermione stared at the book horrified. "But he is in-"

"Nurmenguard. The wards would have fried you before you made it up the first step. It turns Muggleborn into Inferni. It wasn't until '86 that anyone figured out what was happening, and that was because of the Inferni infestation around the prison."

Hermione swallowed, "So, now what?"

"You didn't finish it so it should be fine. But to be safe I will keep the book." Fred tucked the red tome into one of his robe pockets.

"Thanks." Hermione said gratefully. Would she always need someone to watch her back? "What did you want to show me?"

Fred beamed brightly, "Expecto Patronum!" A silver hyena shot out of his wand and illuminated the room in the pale moonlight.

"Way to go Fred," Hermione laughed excitedly. "I knew you could do it."

"Of course I could. I am a Sorcerer." Fred held his wand aloft and stood tall.

Hermione chuckled, "No, seriously, I bet you could cast any spell you wanted."

Fred nodded his head and turned the patronus off. "You're right." He briskly walked over to the dinning table.

"Fred?"

"Why don't we try the shield spell?"

"Sure," Hermione beamed.

Fred pulled out a penknife and pricked his finger. When three drops of blood were applied to the Blood Grimoire there was a brilliant flash of white light. Fred laughed a little hysterically "Now that's a rush." Turning to an open page he placed down the Tur'kor with the Shield Atom on it. Immediately a box formed at the bottom and after about thirty seconds the words Arma Sui appeared. "That's it, then. Ready?"

Hermione wasn't sure why she chose now of all times to remember Luna's warning, but maybe they were going to fast. "Maybe we should wait?"

"No." Fred shook his head and murmured, "Make it all right."

"Right? Make what right Fred?" Hermione asked, "Maybe we should set up some safety measures or wait until-"

But Fred had already raised his arm and with a confidant swish and flick bellowed, "Arma Sui!" The air in front of Fred appeared to condense into a dense fog. Hermione wasn't really sure what kind of spell it would provide protection against but the fact that it worked was amazing. Fred turned to smile at her and she beamed back. "I can't believe it actually worked! I was so worried that something might go wrong I didn't think what to do if it went right. Can you imagine?" He laughed and waved his left hand towards the fog.

Immediately the fog latched onto Fred's the hand. His expression of joy quickly turned to sheer terror as he dropped to his knees and began screaming. "Fred!" Hermione cried franticly, "Stop the spell! Fred?" Edging sideways so she could see what was happening without touching the fog, Hermione lost her breakfast and cake. The spell was eating his hand. She could see places where the fog was pulling up and reattaching itself only to leave behind bone. Fred's eyes were glazed over - a common side effect of shock in trauma victims. This wasn't a shield spell; this was the dark arts. And she was watching Fred die.

Fred began convulsing on the floor. His screams increased in volume. She should get a teacher. Or call an ambulance. But there weren't any phones, Hogwarts was too big, and she couldn't move him with that fog. The fog was past his hand now. She should stop looking. If only she could stop time. Unfortunately she was already using the time-turner. Maybe she could run to the Gryffindor common room and tell her old self to stop Fred today? No. Bad things come to those who meddle with time. If she could just-

Hermione bolted off the floor and towards her book bag. She franticly retrieved a chisel from her room carving kit and ran back. "Head? No. That could kill him. How about shoulder. And, yes." Hermione lay flat on the floor and scooted up close to Fred. Cutting a hole in the fabric of his robes and shirt she prepared to do what she could. Fred had stopped thrashing and his voice had gone raw. Hermione took a second to rub his hair and talk to him, "Fred, I'm going to carve a rune into your skin. It's going to hurt a lot. I'm sorry I don't have a pain potion. But you have to stay strong. I don't know what I would do with out you. And don't get me started on George, okay? He'd probably decide to drop out before N.E.W.T's because it's cool and the ladies like it. We need you. Hold on for me."

Taking the chisel Hermione deeply cut the Isa rune into Fred's shoulder. Nothing happened. What was she doing wrong? The character was right. Runes had not incantation just- Oh, belief. Well it could start working anytime now. Or not. Maybe you had to have belief when you carved it? Again, Hermione dug into her best friend's arm. Nothing happened except Fred was bleeding more and the curse was almost to his elbow.

Frustrated, Hermione yelled at the chisel, "Listen here! I am proud to be a Mudblood you clunky piece of crystal. Work!" The crystal and the end of the chisel began to glow a fierce sapphire blue. Hermione blinked and quickly carved again.

This time the Rune wasn't blood red but an inky blue as she drug the chisel across Fred's shoulder. When she finished the room temperature plummeted before all the fog disappeared. Hermione must of succeeded in freezing Fred's magical core and stopping the spell. The unfortunate side effect was that Fred was frozen solid. There was a light shimmering of ice across his skin. Even his hair still had the indentations where she had run her fingers. He looked dead.

Fred needed the hospital wing. She couldn't take him there until she knew where the past Fred was. She would need help moving him. Ron and Harry? Too immature. Maybe George or Percy? Oh. She was the one who had sent Percy the letter with Hermes this morning. That's why he was chasing her, but the future her must have got to him first. Thank you small favors. Or fate.

Hermione sighed and stared down at Fred's body. She couldn't stare at that for hours. Could she move him? What if- Her hands were shaking. Great. Now she was going into shock. She needed a walk. It was late enough that no one should be out so she stepped into the hall.

She walked down the stairs only paying attention towards the steps she was taking. It wasn't until she felt two strong arms lift her off her current step that Hermione started to hyperventilate. "Gotcha!" It was Sirius Black here to finally do her off now that she killed her best friend. "Whoa, Princess, what's wrong?"

Looking up into the concerned hazel eyes of Fred Weasley was the last straw. Hermione began sobbing into his chest. She knew she should calm down. But he was right here. All she had to do was tell him to never cast that spell and he would be fine.

Fred rubbed circles in her back, "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," Hermione hiccupped, "I will make it better."

"Pardon?"

Hermione had a moment of de-ja-v. This same thing had happened with Fred right before he cast the spell. Fred had known.

Hermione ran. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. Finally stopping in the Astronomy tower she pulled out the time-turner and contemplated throwing it over the side. None of this would have happened if it weren't for it. Fred would have been fine. He wouldn't have had to cast a spell he knew was going to hurt him just to keep time in balance. They were right to restrict time turners. But what if she threw it away? Fred wouldn't get the studying done for his O.W.L's. And she wouldn't be able to save Harry from Sirius Black. So, bad idea.

She slid down the wall and cried some more.

Albus Dumbledore and time-turners could go to hell.

A/N: Thank You to JustKeepSmilingRainbows for the excellent job Beta reading! Also thank you to everyone for reviewing. Almost at 20!