Chapter 8

No one spoke for what felt to Hermione like ages. Gideon and Fabian grinned at George wickedly, as if they'd just uncovered the most fascinating secret, never once lowering their wands. Truthfully, she guessed, they had. For what could possibly be more shocking than discovering the man you'd been sheltering was in fact your time traveling newborn nephew?

It was so ludicrous she was amazed they'd figured it out. And in less than a day.

Unsure which tact to take, for she could think of several, Hermione glanced up at George for some hint. This was his family after all. Acutely aware of the wand at her throat, she had no doubt the older twins would eliminate her if they truly thought her a threat. George though, he was family. They'd want to hear him out first.

"Nephew? We've just come from your sister's and her George is less than a day old. How could I possibly be him?"

"Time travel." Fabian deadpanned.

George scoffed. "Impossible."

Gideon blinked and looked at his brother but clearly wouldn't be so easily dissuaded. "We know how it sounds. We didn't believe it either at first. But your magical signatures are the same, we checked. Wee Georgie can't do any casting yet like you can but he's as magical as any of us, it wasn't hard."

"Then there's our handy little hearing extension spell." Fabian looked downright smug. "It's not perfect mind, and the boys were frightfully loud and we couldn't be obvious but we did pick up some of your private little conversation by the lake."

"Shit. I should have cast a muffliato." All three red heads turned to look at her. She shrugged apologetically to George, and frowned at his uncles. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

Fabian cast her such a condescending look she wanted to roll her eyes and punch him. "Oi! It's rude to time travel into other people's lives, Helen. Or is that even your real name!"

She did roll her eyes. "If your sneaky little spell worked as well as you claim, you'd know that. Is that all the evidence you've got? Because you both just sound completely barking."

Now properly agitated, Fabian pressed the tip of his wand against her neck. "You already admitted to having been overheard. I haven't any idea who you are, Missy, for all I know you could be some Death Eater's slag who seduced my nephew."

Before she had a chance to say something equally nasty in reply, George's wand was pointed at his uncle causing him to shift his focus. "I don't care what you are to me, you'll not speak to her like that."

Gideon groaned, eyeing the wand aimed at his brother. "So the engagements' not just for show then?"

Hermione sighed, urging George to put his wand away. "That's none of your business."

"I'd say it is, considering you're staying in our house and sharing a bed. You're not corrupting our precious little nephew are you?" Gideon seemed to be carrying on as if it were all a joke and it reminded Hermione too much of Fred. It also didn't help her burgeoning temper.

"I'm twenty. I'll share a bed with whomever I please, thank you."

Grinning obnoxiously again, Gideon wrapped an arm tightly around George's shoulders and gripped his chin in his other hand. "So he admits it! Tell me, what's our adorable nephew doing crashing his own birthday? Fabian, is he taller than me? I think he's taller than me!"

"Gideon." Fabian was watching his brother with a frown. Twenty minutes ago Hermione had been convinced that these two men deserved to live, to be wonderful uncles and whatever else they were meant to do. Now she was seconds from blasting one of them herself.

"Right." Gideon released George and stepped back to stand beside his brother, making an attempt at looking just as stern. "Bad things happen to Wizards that mess with time. Shame on you."

"Oh, honestly!"

Most of her irritation faded when she looked back at George, watching Gideon with a misty-eyed smile. "You remind me of Fred. Git couldn't take much seriously." He huffed a small, sad laugh. "Died laughing, he did."

That seemed to sober Gideon. "Fred's dead?"

George didn't answer, just looked down at her and nodded towards the stairs. "Come on, Hermione."

Sighing, she nodded and opened her mouth to say something but Fabian cut in, sounding unsure of himself for the first time since she'd met him and more than a little sad. "Hey… this conversation's not finished…"

"Fine, we can have this conversation now." George sounded as serious as she'd ever heard him, but he turned and leaned casually against the wall, eyeing the two older men with a sort of detached curiosity. "You'll both be dead in three years. It took five Death Eaters to do it. I always wondered if they knew they'd need so many or if old Dolohov thought he could take you on his own and had to call in backup. I don't intend to find out."

Gideon stared at his nephew, slack-jawed, but George was shaking his head. "If we're doing this tonight, I need something to drink. I saw some Ogden's in the kitchen earlier." He looked at Hermione expectantly.

"Go on, George. We'll just be a minute."

When he only glanced between her and his uncles nervously, she scoffed. "They can't be worse than Bellatrix."

He smirked and headed down the hall, a parting comment over his shoulder. "Wasn't you I was worried about, Love."

Once he had disappeared deeper into the house, Hermione turned a glare on the other two men. She didn't think she could obliviate them both, but their secret getting back to Dumbledore was the absolute worst thing that could happen. He'd either do everything in his power to stop them from disrupting his orderly game, or demand to know everything they did and wreck everything with his usual need for control.

"I should obliviate the pair of you." It was satisfying to see them both recoil slightly, though she supposed learning of their impending death might have shaken them more than they'd let on. "But you'll only figure it out again and I'd rather not risk addling your minds messing about with them repeatedly. Besides, I think it could be good for him to be able to really get to know the pair of you. It's been rather a dark six months."

Fabian finally found his voice. "Dark enough to risk meddling with time?"

She stared up at him seriously. "What would you be, Fabian, if you lost your brother? What would be left, do you think?"

He looked over at a still silent Gideon, unable to meet her gaze again.

"I know how loyal your family is to Dumbledore, but this can't get back to him. We don't trust him and neither should you. Why, is a long and complicated story and George is definitely right about the Ogden's. If you still don't want to trust us after you hear everything, well, we don't need to stay here, not really. But like I said, I want us to, for George. He needs this."

Thankfully, neither of them said anything or tried to stop her when she left them standing in the entryway. George's tidbit about their imminent demise was evidently a lot to swallow. Hopefully they'd follow her and not run to Dumbledore.

When she got to the kitchen, collapsing against the near wall with a heavy sigh, George was sitting at the table with a tumbler of whiskey. He didn't look up from the amber liquid as she pushed off from the wall to join him. "Did you obliviate them?"

"No. I decided to trust them not to run to Dumbledore. It might have been a mistake but… they might go along with us. And… I didn't want to take them away from you, George. You need them."

Pausing, he set down the glass and smiled up at her. "You think so?"

She nodded and reached for the bottle and one of the empty glasses he'd set out. "Yes. Now, let's hope they join us for a drink and not Dumbledore."

After a few minutes to digest what George had said and discuss it together, Gideon and Fabian came into the kitchen and sat down. They'd sat in silence at first, drinking slowly and eyeing each other warily. Eventually Gideon spoke up.

"So… how did Fred die?"

Hermione swirled the liquid in her glass and watched George try to find the words to describe the worst day of his life.

"He was killed by Death Eaters. He and Perce were dueling them together in the seventh floor corridor at Hogwarts. One of the bastards blew up a wall and it crushed him."

"Death Eaters? The war lasts that long?"

"And at Hogwarts? How the bloody hell did they get in there? Where was Dumbledore?"

George shrugged. "Dead."

When neither Prewetthad anything to say to that, Hermione sighed at their naive devotion to the old man. "So much of the death and ruin could have been prevented if the old man hadn't been so secretive about everything. If only he'd trusted a few more people, people that would have done anything he asked… that did." She took a sip of her drink. "Instead he trusted the fate of the entire wizarding world to a child fed half-truths, given crumbs of plans and manipulated from infancy."

Now their hosts looked exhausted and more confused. "That sounds like a bit of a half-truth itself. Why would he use a child to defeat the most powerful dark wizard of our time?"

"Well…" She gladly accepted more Ogden's when George offered. "What do you think of prophecies and how much do you know about horcruxes?"

GH

Light filtering through the window woke George two mornings later. Noticing the other side of the bed was empty, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced around the room. Hermione was sitting at a transfigured desk across the room, stacks of notes and a handful of books around her.

They had stayed up well into the next morning the night they'd told his uncles everything. By the time they'd finally gone to bed, George and Hermione had been hopeful that Dumbledore would remain ignorant of their true origins. The next day, by the time they had made it down for breakfast Gideon and Fabian had decided they wanted to help.

None of them were sure what they could actually do, but they were determined to try. Gideon had said that they weren't even that concerned about their own lives. But Fred, and everyone else. If they could end the war before it ever reached Harry's parents, it was worth it to try.

It had been a harder sell to convince them not to go to Dumbledore. They understood everything Hermione and George had told them about his past and their future, but letting go of the notion of the nearly all-powerful, wise old grandfather was difficult. He had defeated Grindelwald after all.

Hermione had brusquely informed them that he'd only done so after waiting for everyone else to try and fail.

Getting up for the day, George grabbed his trousers and a clean shirt and headed for the bathroom. On his way out, he noticed what Hermione was writing. The parchment had a heading, Death Eaters to potentially flip. It was a very short list.

Scratching his chin, he leaned over her shoulder for a better look.

"What's all this then?" He frowned. "You think we could get Snape to help us this early?"

She looked up at him and shrugged. "Well… we know why he joined the Death Eaters and we know why he left. I was sort of thinking if we played on what we know of him, maybe show him some of our memories… we won't be able to convince him with anything less than the worst of his future."

George hummed thoughtfully and looked over the rest of the list. "I suppose he'd be the best option. We know hardly anything about Regulus Black and as far as we know Lucius was a fanatic this time around. Sure he seemed disillusioned in the end but now?"

"That's what I was thinking, though we'll need to keep an eye on Regulus this summer anyhow as he'll be the only one with access to the locket." She scratched Malfoy's name off the list. "Snape won't be easy to catch off guard. Even at seventeen he'll be a formidable dueler. It will likely take all four of us."

"You're probably right." He stood and turned back for the door. "I'm going to have a shower. I want to look my best for Dumbledore's visit this afternoon." She smiled at his rare good humor. "Think I should shave this?" He indicated the ruddy beard, now the longest he'd ever let it get.

Laughing, she shook her head. "No, leave it. I like it."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Really."

Dumbledore stepped through the floo at precisely three in the afternoon. He was his usual cheerful self, but George knew better than to trust him. Hermione had tested both of his uncle's rudimentary Occlumency shields the day before, adamant that they at least be able to sense an intrusion. They had both scoffed at the idea that Dumbledore would do such a thing without permission but passed her test anyway.

"Good afternoon Miss Wilson, Messers Prewett."

George nodded at the headmaster from where he sat on a sofa beside Hermione. The small sitting room, comfortable only a moment before, suddenly felt crowded. Gideon stood from his seat to greet Dumbledore with his usual cheer but Fabian remained seated, merely offering a small nod as George had.

Hermione remained aloof, preparing her tea without so much as a glance his way. If he noticed her standoffishness, he did not deign to show it.

"Have you been getting along alright these last few days?"

"Quite well, Professor." Fabian answered for the group as he indicated the tea things on the table beside the chair Dumbledore had chosen. "Molly had twins the day they came to stay with us, you know."

"Ah, how lovely. That's five now. Boys or girls?"

"Two boys. They'll be terrors in Hogwarts one day, just you wait."

Dumbledore smiled as if that were the most brilliant thing he'd ever heard as he added sugar to his tea. "Just like their uncles, no doubt."

Smiling overly sweetly at Fabian, Hermione rested a hand on George's knee and had apparently decided to add to the conversation. "They are such precious babies, and the older boys are such darlings. George and I are looking forward to having several of our own." George managed not to choke on his tea in shock, but it was a near thing. "We'd be more than happy to have Molly and Arthur and the children stay with us in France if things get too dangerous here."

Dumbledore paused, tea halfway to his mouth, and stared at Fabian. "You took them to the Burrow? Do you think that was wise, Fabian?"

Clearly amused, Fabian shrugged. "They're family aren't they? That's why you asked us to keep them. And the Burrow is every bit as secure as our own place." He smiled at Hermione. "The boys really seemed to take a liking to Helen and George. Maybe if they decide to visit, you can take another holiday near the Dragon reserve. Bill and Charlie would love that."

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore gave Fabian a condescending smile. "Surely Molly and Arthur wouldn't want to run to France?"

George wanted to strangle him with his beard but settled for an indignant scoff. "And why not? They have five small children. Are they a part of your little army? What did you call it, Gideon? Something about a Phoenix?"

Pretense finally dropped, Dumbledore was incredulous. "You told them about the Order? We know hardly anything about them!"

"It kind of seemed like you wanted us to convince them to stay here and fight rather than go back to France." Gideon shrugged and reached for a biscuit. "We know he's family. Surely you understand how familial magic works, Dumbledore. And as for Helen, well I may not have lived as long as you but I've never seen a pair more in love."

Amused at how things were going, George reached up to tuck a stray curl behind Hermione's ear, his thumb caressing her cheek briefly before settling his arm along the back of the sofa. "True."

Turning back to observe Dumbledore, he was pleased to see things had clearly not gone to the old man's plan.

"And have you reconsidered?"

George shook his head. "No. We have no desire to work with you, Dumbledore."

It was true. They would be staying longer. Indefinitely actually. And they did plan to work against Voldemort and his Death Eating twats. But they wouldn't be joining the Order this time and they wouldn't be sharing their information with Dumbledore.