Hermione

Ice cut through Hermione's chest and startled her from the daze she'd slipped into while staring at her Ancient Runes extra reading. She looked at the table to see a transparent grey-white something floating above her book, held in place by an equally transparent hand sticking through her chest.

She whirled around to see a smirking ghost floating two inches off the ground. The icy sensation cut her again, then disappeared as Fred pulled his hand back.

"I've always wanted to do that," he said.

"Scare the living daylights out of someone?" Hermione snapped.

"Oh, no. I do that to the Slytherins every day. No, put my hand through someone. Well, someone who's awake. I like to mess with Parkinson's brain every now and again when she's sleeping."

Even though she disliked the girl, Hermione felt annoyed with Fred's antics. "That's cruel."

"The girl screamed 'Get him!' at Harry when the Chief Death Eater did that announcement. If anyone deserves an icy hand through the brain, it's Parkinson."

Hermione growled. "So what's your excuse for me, then?"

Fred gave a lopsided grin. "It's two-fold. First, you're supposed to be helping George and Verity with that Tracking Parchment charm. Second, Ginny tells me you're going on a date with Percy."

Hermione's cheeks burned and she turned back to her Ancient Runes book, suddenly very interested in the contents. "It's not a date."

"It is a date. Perce asked you out on a second date, mind you, and you said yes. You're off your rocker, Granger."

"What's it to you?"

"I'd like to chaperone."

If Hermione had been carrying anything, she would have dropped it. "You what? No one even knows you're—well, alive isn't exactly the right word—but you want to chaperone my date with your brother?"

"See? I knew it was a date."

"You're infuriating, even from beyond the grave."

"Now that you've admitted you're dating my brother—not the brother I would have picked for you, by the way—"

"And which one would have you picked? Since everyone seems to think I should be with Ronald."

Fred's smile widened. "Unfortunately, the brother I would have picked for you is indisposed. Unless you fancy a more unconventional relationship."

Hermione gaped and dropped her head in her hands. She replayed the conversation with Ginny where the redhead accused her of having all of the Weasley men wrapped around her finger. "You?"

"Well, there were only four more to choose from, and Bill's married, Charlie's not into girls exactly, and George has always been a little more invested in the business than his personal life."

On a verge of a headache, Hermione grasped for anything that made sense. "Are you saying Charlie's gay?"

"Ah, you would get caught on that. We're not sure, to be honest. He might just not like people." Fred waved a transparent hand. "But enough about that. Relationship stuff is for the living, and I don't have to deal with it anymore. Although, there is this ghost on the third floor—"

"Fred!"

He flourished the paper in his right hand. "Why haven't you been working on this?"

"I said I might be able to figure it out, not that I would." She paused. "And I only promised Verity. Now that George is back, why doesn't he just manufacture them?"

Fred rubbed his silvery chin. "See, there's the problem. We didn't charm them in the first place. Remus did. Now, given that our pal Moony found the charm as a fifth year," he paused and winced after about ten seconds. "Anyway, we figured it shouldn't be too hard. Alas, the ignorance of youth."

Hermione snorted in spite of herself. "You're still only twenty, Fred Weasley, ghost or not." She pulled out her own copy of the Tracking Parchment and tapped it with her wand, incanting a self-chosen password. The entirety of Hogwarts spread across the parchment, looking just like the Marauder's Map, though without the secret tunnels.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Hermione hummed her agreement. "It's a remarkable bit of magic, especially for fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds to accomplish. Granted, Lupin and his friends were rather bright for their age, and they had access to numerous similarly intelligent people we do not."

"Such as?"

"Lily Potter. Harry told me once that Ollivander said his mother's wand was particularly useful for Charm work."

Fred mulled this over. "I also seem to remember something about the future Mrs. Potter hating James Potter. I believe she called him a 'toe-rag', correct?"

"How do you—" Hermione glanced at the ghost, who held out a silver string with a smug grin. "Never mind. I don't even want to know how much you know that you're not supposed to." She returned her eyes to the map. "No, I don't think Harry's mum would have willingly helped his dad, but Lupin was a prefect. Chances are she would have thought this a brilliant idea for tracking students out of bed."

"Ah, the irony." Fred's grin transformed into a slight frown. "That doesn't really help much, though. We're in the same predicament with Lily Potter that we are with Remus. She's not exactly in a position to help us."

An insane idea crossed Hermione's mind. "She's not, but her best friend might be." Fred raised a quizzical eyebrow. "How much knowledge do portraits retain?"

"I've never personally badgered a portrait. Well, not for that purpose. Sir Cadogan was an exception, but George and I pretty much determined he had the intelligence of a Pygmy Puff." The ghost eyed her with suspicion. "Exactly whose portrait are you planning to assault?"

Hermione smirked. "You don't know who Lily Potter's best friend was? Even with that Extendable Ear?" The smirk slid from her face as she remembered exactly when Harry had learned that secret. "Oh."

"Oh what?"

She shook her bushy head. "We didn't find out until—" She stopped and chewed the inside of her lip. After you were gone, she almost said. "Anyway, I have it on good authority that his portrait is hanging in the Headmistress's office," she recovered.

Fred's eyes widened in horror. "Snape?" He floated backward a few inches. "First, that's disturbing. Second, there's literally no reason he'd agree to help us. How—?"

"They were neighbours when they were children, I guess."

"But—she was a Muggle-born," Fred sputtered.

"Her death was the reason Snape joined the Order. That's the reason Dumbledore trusted him so completely."

"Huh." Fred seemed to be out of things to say.

Hermione sighed and looked over the parchment, absently tracing some of the students' movements with her fingers. "It was an insane idea anyway. And a portrait is probably only has a shadow of the inhabitant's knowledge."

Fred shook his head. "It is insane, but Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes wouldn't exist if George and I were sane." He wrinkled his nose. "I suppose it's time I come clean to old McGonagall, anyhow."

"She still doesn't know about you?"

"Nah. I was afraid she'd have the Bloody Baron banish me from the dungeons."

"Is he really that intimidating?"

Fred grimaced. "You might see us as non-corporeal beings, but we can see each other pretty similar to how you see the living. Peeves can, too. I sincerely hope you never see the Bloody Baron in full colour."

"Me too," Hermione agreed, and then flushed. "I'm sorry. I hope you didn't take any offence—"

"Hermione. I know I'm dead."

She felt a heavy weight on her chest and she twisted her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger. "It still doesn't feel real." Hermione cursed the tears that started to pool in her eyes. How stupid was it to cry about someone's death in front of his ghost?

"Talking to me probably isn't helping that much."

A sad chuckle escaped her throat. "No. It probably isn't." She swiped at her eyes. "I can see why you don't want to go to George. But you have to know he'll kill Ginny and me for not telling him if he ever finds out."

"No, he won't. He'll get it, just like I would if the roles were reversed."

"I'm not convinced of that."

Fred's expression shut down and he glided for the nearest wall. "I should go see McGonagall."

"Fred, I'm sorry—." But he was already gone.

The next Hogsmeade weekend found Ginny and Hermione waiting at the Three Broomsticks for Harry and Percy to show up. Ron had chosen to stay behind so he could "study" for his next Auror exam. Hermione didn't have the heart to call him on his lie when she knew exactly why he wasn't coming.

It had been two weeks since she last talked to Fred, which bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Logically, Hermione knew that nothing could really hurt him, but she was worried all the same. She looked at the surrounding tables before she leant toward Ginny. "Have you talked to Fred recently?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

The redhead did not have the reaction Hermione expected. She backed away and paled, her eyes wide. "How do you know about Fred?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "He came to see me when I was studying in the meeting room." Hadn't he told his sister that they were talking?

"Why are you studying there instead of the library?"

"Too many people in the library on Thursday nights, and don't change the subject. Have you talked to him or not?"

Ginny nodded. "He's been quieter than normal, though. I think being away from George is taking its toll. Have you noticed that he stops talking halfway through his sentences?" Hermione had noticed, but hadn't thought much of it. Ginny frowned, her eyes focusing on a far wall. "He still waits for George to finish his thoughts. It's painful to listen to sometimes. Reminds me that things won't ever be the same, even if he's not completely gone."

"I tried talking him into seeing George," Hermione confessed. "I think he might be upset with me for it."

"I did the same thing the first time I saw him. He didn't talk to me for a month after that, so I haven't brought it up since." Ginny grinned, an expression so reminiscent of her ghostly brother that Hermione almost couldn't look at her. "He's really proud of his Orders of Merlin, though. Said it was a shame they didn't make those in ghost form." She snorted. "At least he's making jokes about it." Her face suddenly straightened as she looked to the door, and Hermione turned to see their respective dates walk in. "Not a word of this to Harry or Percy," the youngest Weasley muttered. "I haven't told anyone and neither will you."

Hermione nodded her understanding and stood to greet the men. She noticed a considerable change when she pulled Harry in for a hug. "Are those muscles?" she demanded.

Her best friend gave a sheepish grin. "We've been doing a lot of physical training," he mumbled.

"I can tell, even through the jumper."

Ginny swatted at Hermione's hands with a playful grin. "Hands off my boyfriend or else I'll hex you. You have your own date."

Hermione blushed and gave Percy a semi-awkward hug. "Hi."

"Miss Granger," he said cordially, causing her to blush deeper.

"And I don't need to be here for this." Ginny pulled Harry toward the door. "If you two want to join in, we're going to do a scrimmage with the Hufflepuff team around three up at the Quidditch pitch. Harry's playing Seeker for the enemy. Traitor."

"You said you wanted to train against the best," he laughed.

"That's why I asked Hermione to write to Krum," Ginny shot back.

Hermione giggled as Harry dropped his jaw in indignation. She straightened her face as much as possible. "Yes, Viktor said he was too busy this weekend. Something about a match against Brazil."

Harry glared at her, but she saw he was holding back a grin. "They don't even play South American teams until summer."

Hermione smirked. "It was worth a shot."

"Remind me never to call on Hermione to bluff," Ginny grumbled, and successfully pulled her boyfriend out the door.

Once they left, Percy turned to Hermione with a pensive look on his face that reminded her of Ron. "Do you actually still talk to Krum?"

She gave a non-committal shrug. "We exchange letters every now and again." He let out a hmph and Hermione felt her shoulders tense. She could deal with one jealous Weasley brother, but she did not need two—and she prayed to every higher power that Fred would not become a third. "We struck up a friendship, but nothing more than that," Hermione said. Not that I need to justify it to you, she thought, but kept the comment to herself. Too many arguments with Ron had begun with statements like that.

"Okay," Percy said, and his face morphed back to the grin he had when he and Harry walked in.

"Okay?" she asked in surprise. Ron would have never let something go that fast.

Her date nodded. "Okay." He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Where you would like to go?"

"Well, Tomes and Scrolls is having a sale..." She pinked, realizing that a bookstore wasn't necessarily the ideal location to start a date.

"I have been meaning to get a few books on the history of magical transportation," Percy mused. He gestured for the door. "Shall we?"

They wandered the shop for nearly an hour before Hermione handed an armload of books to the shopkeeper. The plain woman, clad in threadbare blush-coloured robes, raised an eyebrow when Hermione spied a copy of Hogwarts, A History locked behind the counter. "Is that a first edition?" she asked, trying not to sound too excited by the prospect.

"Yes it is, and in fine condition, too. Only ever had one owner."

"How much do you want for it?"

The woman's face went carefully blank. "One-hundred Galleons."

"I'll take—"

"One-hundred Galleons?" Percy cut in. "You're going to charge Hermione Granger one-hundred Galleons for a book that's been sitting on that shelf since I was a third-year?"

The woman narrowed her eyes and flexed the fingers of her left hand. "Eighty Galleons," she said.

"Fifty, and that covers everything she's got."

Hermione burned bright red. "Percy!"

"Sixty-five for the lot," the shopkeeper countered.

"She'll take it."

Hermione was fuming by the time they made it out of the shop. "How dare you embarrass me like that! I'll never be able to show my face in there again!"

Percy was impervious to her anger. "Hermione, you need to realize something and realize it quickly. Now that you've been awarded an Order of Merlin, you will encounter two types of people. The first will look at you as a war hero and give you anything you want just because you want it. The second will look at you as a recipient of an Order of Merlin, and therefore the owner of a not insubstantial Gringotts vault." He nodded toward the store. "She was the second type."

"And which do you see me as?" she snapped, and immediately regretted the words.

He rolled his eyes. "I see you as Hermione Granger, dangerously clever, and quite possibly the only reason Ron and Harry are still alive. Would you like me to carry your books?"

She looked at the ground, still processing his words. "You have your own books," she mumbled.

"It is possible to carry books belonging to more than one person at the same time." He held out his free hand until Hermione passed the bag to him. "Thank you. Where would you like to go next?"

Hours later, they ended up at the Quidditch pitch and discussing Charms rather than paying attention to the scrimmage. A good number of students and Hogsmeade residents had turned out for the game despite it being unofficial. Hermione supposed the Hufflepuff Seeker's celebrity status had something to do with the high attendance.

"Transportation Charms are really very interesting," Percy said, oblivious to the fact Harry was in a fifty-foot dive with his right arm outstretched. "The Ministry has a Trace on each registered vehicle, as well as methods for sensing unregistered vehicles. There was an incident a few years ago when Ali Bashir started illegally trafficking flying carpets—" there was a collective groan in the stadium and Harry returned to circling the pitch "—which is when Dad started working with the Department of Magical Transportation on a way to track them. He even brought Lupin in to consult on it, which was a rather unpopular move as you can guess."

This jerked Hermione to attention. "Lupin?"

"Dad swears they wouldn't have been able to create the charm without him."

Hermione's mind went into overdrive. "I'd be interested in learning more about the mechanics of that charm," she said. She withheld telling him why she was interested, or even asking if it could be adapted to track humans. She knew it could, especially if Lupin was the one to develop it. Percy hadn't been on the best of terms with his family before the Battle of Hogwarts, so she was sure he didn't know anything about the restricted products the twins had developed.

"Come for breakfast at the Burrow tomorrow. I'm sure Dad would love to talk to you about it."

"Tomorrow? But it's not a Hogsmeade—"

Percy grinned. "You're nineteen years old. I think McGonagall will let you spend a Sunday with family."

Hermione stopped breathing at the word 'family'. Sure, she had started considering the Weasleys her family sometime around fourth year, but the word brought back memories of her parents. She took a deep breath and cleared her head. She couldn't think about them right now. "Not tomorrow," she said. Percy looked visibly disappointed. "McGonagall's far too busy at the moment for me to ask," she explained. "Next week. Next Sunday."

A flicker beneath the stands caught Hermione's eye. She stood abruptly, forgetting to listen to whatever Percy was saying. "I'll be right back." She ran halfway down the steps and stopped, looking through the wooden supports. "Fred?"

"Behind you," came a forcibly jaunty voice.

Hermione turned around and cocked her head at the ghost, who floated just out of sight from the stands above. His tired face didn't match the tone of his words. "Are you okay?"

"You're going to the Burrow?"

"Maybe. Did you actually stalk my date?"

"I was watching the match. You just happened to come along."

That explained the look on his face. It wasn't tiredness so much as it was longing. "Is it hard to watch them play?"

"It's all hard." He changed the subject. "I heard you talking about the tracking charms with Percy. I hope Dad can give you more insight than Snape gave me. Utterly useless, that portrait. When he finally stopped sneering at me, he told me Lily never confided anything about her Charm-work with him."

"We'll just have to keep trying. I'm sure something will turn up."

He nodded. "I know." Fred did what Hermione supposed was a sigh, which hit her strange since as a ghost, he didn't technically need to breathe. "When you go to the Burrow next week, can you keep an eye on George for me? Let me know how he is?"

Hermione wished she could reach out and squeeze his hand the way she did with Ron and Harry when they got that certain sadness in their eyes. She stuck her hands under her arms to suppress the feeling. "Absolutely."

"Thanks, Minnie."

She raised an eyebrow with a half-smile. "Minnie?"

"'Hermione's a mouthful. And now that you can't hex me, I figured I'd try something easier." Fred got a devilish grin on his face.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress her own grin. "Fine. But only you can call me that. No one else. If I hear any other Weasleys—or Slytherins—calling me that, I will find a Basilisk and Petrify you."

"I forgot about that," he chuckled. "Fair. I accept your terms. Now go finish your date with my git of a brother."

Hermione feigned offense. "He's been quite the gentleman, for your information."

"He may have come around, but he will always be Percy. If any Weasley ever stood a chance of getting into Slytherin, he would be it." What appeared to be genuine concern looked unnatural on Fred's pale face. "I believe he regrets what he did to our family. But he's still ambitious, and you're a war hero with an Order of Merlin."

This time, she didn't have to fake her offence. "That's an extraordinarily unfair thing to say! He's been a good friend to me for months now, since before this whole Order of Merlin business started."

"Being friends is one thing. Actually dating—"

"How did my life turn into this?" she muttered into her hands as she rubbed her face. Three Weasleys. Three jealous Weasleys. It was like Molly Weasley gave birth to a plethora of suitors designed specifically for Hermione.

She turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs. "I'm not talking about this, Fred. I'll see you next week." And for the first time, she was the one who left.