Hi everyone! I'm back again, with a new chapter that took me longer than usual to get out. And I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story so much, but I don't know why you guys are always so sad when you think I've abandoned my story. I haven't left, but being an adult is dumb, and it doesn't let you enjoy hobbies as much.
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Angelina arrived at Weasley Wizard Wheezes around noon, ready to help the boys during the busy lunch time rush. It was only May, but the younger kids getting ready to go back to Hogwarts in the new school year were becoming rowdy. To prove it, the doors to the boys' shop had been propped open to keep the bell from going off constantly each time the door swung open to allow the crowd to move in and out. Hobbling up to the door, Angelina tiptoed past the first few little ones who hadn't made it much farther into the shop yet. Her feet were still killing her from dancing last night, as she knew they would from past experience of dancing with the Weasley's. Though she had Mrs. Weasley's assurance George and Fred were the best dancers of her brood, George still had the tendency to get too excited and tread on her toes.
The first few feet of the store were jam packed, making it incredibly hard to maneuver around anyone. Eventually, Angelina made it to a safe space to breathe, and noticed Verity waving at her from behind the jumping checkout. Giving the tiny girl a wave back, Angelina made her way over to cash, angering a few people when she budded in front of them to step behind the counter.
"Hello Angelina," Verity chirped, handing the packed bag to the customer that had just payed. She waved to the leaving boy before turning fully to Angelina, allowing the other cashier to take the next person in que.
"Nice to see you again, Verity. Been a good day so far?" Angelina nodded to the store to indicate the general area. Verity shrugged, indifferent to any of it.
"It's been steady all day, but I feel like I'm a bad judge. I only see the line up; I don't normally walk around like the boys."
"Speaking of, where are those boys? I haven't seen either of them yet." Angelina looked around again, like she was proving she had come in for a reason. Verity sighed, nodding her chin up the stairs that led to Fred and George's flat.
"I've only seen George so far, but he went up again about five minutes ago."
Angelina rolled her eyes at the girl, sharing a moment of female solitude between them. Waving a goodbye for now, Angelina made her way to the stairs, skipping the first step just in case George had left something there again. A few kids watched her go up, then turned around to complain to their mums that she was breaking the rules. The door leading into the flat was painted a deep brown, lying about the mayhem of colours on the inside. Angelina lowered the charms, gaining entry completely free of pranks or goo.
"George? Are you still up here?" Angelina called into the front room. Footsteps sounded from the living room so she stepping inside fully to greet them. George came around the corner like he was hiding, tiptoeing and with his finger over his lips. "Seriously? What are you-?"
"Shh!" He waved his hands in her face, like he could swat away her voice. "We need to go," Angelina found herself being shoved around to face the door again, while her fiancé pushed her out the door.
"Why? George Fabian, what is going on?" She whirled around to face him again, looking over his shoulder to see what he was trying to hide.
George cringed a little, but kept trying to push her out the door, "I left a little surprise for Fred this morning before I went down to open the shop, yeah? But after an hour, still no Freddie. So I came back up to see if he had, you know, rudely died on me, but the bedroom door was still closed. And I know the prank didn't go off, because the bucket of feathers was still levitating. Anyway, I decided to dump the syrup and feathers on him myself, so I opened the doors and," George stopped, a shudder running through his entire body.
"And?!" Angelina was all ears, her mouth wide open in shock at this situation.
"And," George choked dramatically, holding a fist to his mouth like he was about to be sick, "they're still in there!"
"Who? Fred and—oh Merlin, he and Hermione are in," Angelina whipped around, pointing at the door to Fred's room wordlessly, gaping at the closed door.
"Yup," George whispered, holding onto her shoulders now for support.
"Were they," she waves around nonsensically, "busy?"
George really chokes this time, "Uh huh."
"Merlin," she paused, then looked back at George wide eyed. "Did you see them?"
George pouted his lip, nodding like a child who had watched their puppy die, "Angie, can you help me scratch my eyes out? Your fingers are thinner; they'll get in easier." Angelina snorted, covering her mouth hurriedly.
"Do they know you walked in on them? Should we leave?" George glanced over his shoulder, and nodded.
"Not sure, but let's go work. I need to distract my eyes from seeing my identical twins bare arse."
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"Fred! You said he was downstairs!" Hermione complained with a harsh smack to Fred's bare shoulder. In retaliation, Fred rolled them over so the blushing girl was straddling his hips.
"He was! However, knowing my dear twin brother, he left me a surprise this morning and had to come and check it had worked. Little bugger has always been too sure of himself, served him right for peeking in." He scowled through his grin, his eyes still sparkling with mirth as he pinched Hermione's side, eliciting a surprised squeal from her.
"Well, thank you for at least having the pretense to cover me." Her blush was making its way down her neck, Fred's gaze trailing after it eagerly.
"While I do share everything with my brother, I'm certainly not letting him catch even a glance at my girl." Hermione giggled when his lips met her neck, hugging him close to her chest enjoying the warmth he provided.
Fred continued peppering her with kisses, moving his way down her body, keenly following the pink blush. "'My girl'? That's a new one," Hermione was interrupted from her teasing by a startled moan leaving her lips when Fred hit a favoured spot on the top of her abdomen.
"Of course my love, I have many names lined up, only for my darling, sweet, lovely, sexy, amazing, bossy…"
"Hey!"
"Sorry, we'll skip that last one. Though it's one of my favourites." Fred grinned lecherously up at his fiancée, who seemed to be having some difficulty breathing normally.
"Mine…too," she gasped out, gripping the side of Fred's head with her fingers threaded through his hair, "But only with those glasses of yours on, mister." Fred popped back up immediately, his grin now childishly impish.
"Yes ma'am," he chirped, leaning over to the nightstand on his side to retrieve his reading glasses he'd discovered a new found love for.
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Lunch at the Burrow was a smaller affair than normal, as it only consisted of Hermione, Fred, Harry, Ron and Romilda, who had been staying with Mrs. Weasley a lot during the day time. Mrs. Weasley had surprisingly found a kindred spirit in Romilda, who loved cooking about as much as the matriarch did. They spent many of her visits discussing recipes they had tried, and Romilda's newest way to magically cut herbs so as not to harm herself doing it manually. Mr. Weasley was tickled pink by his wife's enthusiasm for one of their new daughter-in-law's, and Ron was just as happy knowing he'd still be kept well fed by his new wife.
Harry had popped into the Burrow, hoping to catch Ginny before she left with Tessa to Diagon Alley, but had missed her by ten minutes. Finding no other reason to abandon Mrs. Weasley's cooking, Harry had sat himself at the long table, and hadn't moved since. Mrs. Weasley happily sent him fresh cups of tea and jam tarts whenever he sat still for too long. Hermione was convinced she was still trying to 'fatten' him up. Fred hadn't left Hermione's side yet. After making up last night ('and most of this morning') he cheerily reminded her, Fred had winked at George on their way out, Crookshanks tucked under Hermione's arm, declaring he was taking the day off. George had waved him away, turning an alarming shade of red that had Angelina in stitches almost immediately.
So now they found themselves sat at the Burrow's table, facing Harry and Ron, and a few seats away from the chatting Romilda and Mrs. Weasley. Upon arrival, Hermione had been handed a jam tart, and a stack of Witch Weekly: Wedding Editions, and Madame Malkin's Wedding Robes catalogues. Forcing her to release Crookshanks, Hermione maneuvered her way to the table while Fred gladly took the cat, the two having formed a steady bond with one another. Hermione was slaving over every page of every magazine, while Crookshanks played with a loose string from Fred's jumper.
"It disgusts me how much that thing likes you." Ron grumbled, glaring at the ginger cat purring on Fred's lap.
"That's a fine way to talk about one of your best mates. Don't mind him Mione, you don't have to take such slander." Fred nudged her side, receiving a quirked brow and a small smirk for his efforts. Ron turned red, muttering a small apology to Hermione, saying that wasn't what he had meant. Hermione only gave him the same smirk she'd given Fred, returning her attention to the magazines in front of her.
Fred nudged one from the pile, pulling it towards himself, "How are you not laughing at this stuff? It's ridiculous,"
"Yes, but your mother keeps checking on me every few minutes, and I'm scared for my life if I stop reading." Hermione whispers out the cornier of her mouth, causing Fred to guffaw. Mrs. Weasley looked at him strangely, but continued smiling when she looked down to Hermione.
"How is the planning coming, dear?" She asked Hermione sweetly, allowing Romilda to take a cautious sip of her tea in the absence of conversation. Ron handed her another tart when her hand reached out to search for the platter of them. He received a sweet smile for his efforts, before she concentrated on her tea again.
"Oh, not so bad I suppose." Hermione tried hedging around the conversation, glaring at Harry when he sniggered.
Mrs. Weasley looked to Harry, trying to find what was funny, "How far have you gotten dear? I know you had helped with Ginny and Harry's wedding, but I haven't heard much from you nor Fred." She wavered, waiting for one of her children to give her some information.
"Well, we picked colours," Hermione trailed off, looking around the table for help, but none came. "and the date."
"Oh, Fred, how could you distract her so much? She has things to do, not that you've helped her much, poor thing." Mrs. Weasley chastised her son, ignoring Ron and Harry's horribly concealed laughter and Hermione's blush.
Fred put on an indignant huff, "Mother! I will have you know, I planned the color and date. Mione has quite literally done nothing. You should be blaming her for distracting my genius, I'm obviously more qualified." Hermione scowled at him, and he got the message loud and clear, 'See if I distract you now, traitor.'
"Oh Hermione Jean! We have to hurry before venues and cloths are taken by other couples! Hurry now child, tell me what you'll need and we'll go down to Diagon Alley to get them together." Mrs. Weasley accioed a quill and parchment, ready to take down notes for them. Fred couldn't help but snicker at Hermione's stricken face, as he knew damn well she had been trying to avoid his mother at all costs.
"Come on Crooks, let us leave Hermione to her planning, and you can go find gnomes in the garden. How's that sound?" Fred crooned sarcastically to the cat, who mewled in approval, launching himself from his cozy spot, and out the back door to the garden. Fred also stood, ready to leave the room, but Hermione snagged the back pocket of his trousers, dragging him back to her.
"Sit. Down." She growled, pulling him down to sit next to her once more. Harry didn't even try to hide his laughter now, full out smirking at his brother-in-law in trouble with the witch.
Fred tried one more last ditch effort, "But I'm half blind, how can you expect me to look through all of these? I'll get a headache," he pouted to her, giving her the best puppy eyes he could, leaning in for a kiss on her cheek. Hermione stopped him with a hand to his lips, and with a wave of her wand, his glasses were perched on the looming pile of magazines.
"Nice try Mr. Weasley, get to work."
Grumbling audibly, Fred slumped in his seat, pulling one of the magazines Hermione offered to him into his lap. Hermione didn't say anything else, but took his glasses up off the table, and placed them on the bridge of his nose for him, laying a quick kiss to his cheek.
"Don't want you to get a headache." Hermione says too sweetly, now the one to receive laughter from their family. Even his mother cracks a smile at his expense, but Fred just smiles back, for once rather happy to be the butt of the joke.
"Alright, both of you, tell me the colours." Mrs. Weasley commands, quill at the ready. Hermione gives Fred a nervous look, both ready for Molly Weasley to burst and die of a color overload.
"Er, we both actually picked one each, but I don't think you'll really approve, Molly." Hermione tried to tone down the necessity of the colors, but Mrs. Weasley was having none of it.
"Nonsense, dears, that sounds like a lovely idea. What have you chosen, Fred?"
"I picked a light blue, like Hermione's dress at the Yule Ball." Romilda cooed, patting Ron's elbow. Mrs. Weasley also seemed to like the idea, and noted it down before anyone could change their minds.
"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley prodded.
"Yes, I decided on Fred's favourite colour," Romilda smiled, liking that idea as well. Mrs. Weasley was not as keen, as she knew exactly which color Hermione was referring to.
"Not, erm, fuchsia, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked hopefully, still not jotting down Hermione's colour choice.
"Yup. That's the one." Hermione stared at the lovely lady she would soon be related to, not blinking under the hopeful glare. Fred couldn't keep as straight a face, moving his glasses a bit to wipe his eyes. Harry finally seemed to notice Fred was wearing glasses, frowning at him like he couldn't decide if they were real or not.
"How long have you had glasses?" Now Ron was looking at him strangely, squinting like he was trying to see what kind of prank this would be.
Fred goes a bit red, but mumbles sullenly, "Since I was a firstie at Hogwarts."
"How come I never saw you with them?" Harry asked, still frowning in confusion.
"Because George told him he looked like Percy, so he's never worn them. Next question Molly." Hermione asks, trying to bring the conversation away from Fred. Mrs. Weasley nodded, asking Hermione where they would be having the ceremony, in which Hermione quickly agreed it would be at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley became teary-eyed, writing down the details.
Ron decided he couldn't let it go either, "No, I've literally never seen these before. I thought George was kidding when he told me you were turning into Percy. I thought he just meant because you're around Hermione all the time."
Fed up, Fred glares across the table at the younger boys, glasses still perched on his nose, "All right, I wear them at home, away from everyone who can't drop the subject."
Everyone went silent for a moment before Harry piped up.
"They really just mean you're getting old,"
"Yeah, and mature."
A blast of pink is shot at both boys, and it takes Mrs. Weasley and Hermione ten minutes to stop the now greying hair from growing all over the younger boys' heads.
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Hermione spent the rest of the day curled up on one of the couches, Ginny at her feet, and Angelina next to the red head. Tessa had joined them a few minutes ago, and was situated on the couch opposite, with Audrey sat primly next to her. Romilda was sat on her own, nursing a cup of tea slowly as she listened to the girl's chatter. Each lap was filled with two or more wedding magazines, and a notebook designated to each girl. Whenever one found an idea they liked, they would write a quick note, and spell it to another's notebook if they thought the other girl would enjoy it as well. Mrs. Weasley had banned any males from interrupting the process, at her wit's end with her children for interrupting all the wedding preparation needed.
Everything was going smoothly, until Audrey had the guts to tell Mrs. Weasley, she and Percy had decided to only go into the Ministry to sign and bind themselves into marriage. At first, Hermione was sure The Third Wizarding War was about to break out, but Ginny reminded her mother that the two would still be having some kind of dinner to celebrate. At that point, Tessa made a joke that she might give up and do the same, but quickly backtracked when Mrs. Weasley almost broke down.
So far, Hermione was confident she knew exactly what she wanted and had everything ready. Except, she didn't. And the thought hit her in the stomach, a shadow of the feeling the Cruciatus curse gave her.
"Molly, could I be excused for a moment?" She whispered politely, trying her hardest not to show her emotions. Mrs. Weasley allowed her to go, following her with her eyes as Hermione made her way up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. She wasn't sure which room he was in, or even who he was at the moment. She just knew she needed someone, as soon as possible, whoever was closest.
Upon opening the door, Hermione sagged in relief when she found Fred, George, Harry and Ron all together for once, enjoying a game of Exploding Snap. George spotted her first, being the one facing the door.
"Hey Granger, had enough of dresses and frills?" Ron coughed out a laugh, aware of how much their mother loved wedding dresses. When he received no answer nor biting comeback, George gave her a worried look, causing Fred and Harry to spin around and watch her.
"I-I need…"
Fred looked horribly worried now, putting his hand down, only for them to pop and explode right away, making everyone at the table jump. "Hermione?"
"Can I- could you? No, could we-?" She was shaking now, from her fingers to her toes. All the boys jumped out of their seats, making a grab for her each. Fred tucked her into a hug when she reached her arms out, while Harry grabbed her hands. Ron and George moved her to one of the beds, where Fred sat her so close to him she was practically on his lap, while still allowing Harry to keep his grip on her. She was crying now, she could feel the tears hitting her cheeks, but she felt so numb with sudden dread she couldn't focus on feeling.
"Shh sweetheart, don't talk yet. Calm down for us first," Fred whispered into her hair, rocking her back and forth in comfort. Harry stayed close to her, already aware how long it would take her to stop without help. George looked rather scared, completely unsure what he was meant to do, while Ron kept a short distance away, like he was ready to tag one of the others out if necessary. The idea of it made Hermione stifle a giggle; having so many people jump to help was still a new experience for her.
"That was definitely a laugh, are you alright Hermione?" Harry asked, ducking his head to peer at her from between Fred's arms.
"Better," she mumbled, snuggling into the embrace she had wanted.
"What brought this on, may I ask?" Fred asked into her hair, trying to brush the strands away from his face.
"I finished planning our wedding."
"Great, glad that made you cry," he grumbled over her head, causing George to snicker at his twin's expense. Hermione shook her head, already exasperated, but secretly happy for the humour provided.
"Don't be ridiculous,"
"Ditto," Harry says to her, receiving odd looks from the Weasley's from the muggle terminology.
"I meant," Hermione continued, holding onto the hem of Fred's shirt, playing with the thread, "I finished planning, and was going over everything, making sure I had enough to go on,"
"Right, when have you done any different?" Ron mumbles, receiving an elbow from George.
"But then, I realized I hadn't planned for my parents to be here." Silence rang through the group, each too stunned to think of what to say to their stressed friend.
"Hermione, did they, have you checked on them? Since last May?" Harry asked slowly, unsure he would like the answer. Hermione nodded, but couldn't say anything about the subject. Surprising Harry, Ron was the one to answer.
"She sent an owl to the Ministry down in Australia, asking them to check on them. She got a letter back a bit after that, can't 'member when, but she wouldn't tell me what it said." He stared at Hermione, waiting eagerly or her to fill in the blanks. The rest of the room watched as well, waiting in silence. Hermione shuddered just thinking about it, but knew she would have to say eventually,
"They have a daughter. A new daughter, in a new home, with new memories, and a new life. I can't force their old memories onto them; it would hurt them, and confuse the-my, my sister." Hermione sniffled, trying to burrow further into her fiancé's chest. Harry looked crushed for her, but understood the sacrifice she was making was better for her family.
"I'm so sorry, love." Fred said finally, breaking the silence, creating a calmer environment for everyone to sit with Hermione as long as she needed them.
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Weird ending, sorry about that. But I wanted this one out, so I could focus on other things and not leave you hanging