Chapter 20

A/N: Dear all,

I don't have anything to say for myself other than, I'm sorry the muse fled me. Between the family drama resulting from my grandfather's death, a new baby, trying to homeschool my two oldest and discovering I am madly in love with crocheting, I just haven't been able to get it up to write more than a few words. I prefer to write a few chapters ahead of myself so that I can make changes, but I decided to just go for it. I know what I want to happen and how this fic will end, I just need to WRITE it. I have decided to follow the advice of every author I've heard talk about it and just force myself to write a little bit every day. I just re listened to chapter 19 and the rest that I've got done and am all shoulder pats over how much I like it. As an apology, I am going to update two chapters today to tide you over until I manage to complete a couple more. I have 20-23 done, so I should feel comfortable adding 22 and then 23 shortly. Please send all the comments, they remind me I really should spend some time working on this rather than the 3rd crochet project this week. (for real I'm obsessed, my husband says I need to start selling stuff to pay for my new hobby.)

Love you all and thank you so much for all the adds and comments since I've last updated.

Stephanie

They met at a different pub, but Severus looked the same, if a bit more on edge. His leg bounced anxiously as he sat in another corner booth, waiting impatiently for them to join him. Once George slid in beside Hermione and inside the bubble of the muffliato, he sighed irritably.

"Well, you both look perfectly fine. Why did it take you so bloody long to answer me?"

George gestured to his shoulder. "Hey, I very nearly died. You said something about Greyback claiming a kill? He probably meant me."

Eyeing him wearily, Snape tapped his fingers on the table as if counting. "It wasn't a full moon at least… but it's only two days out now. Did he maul you or was it only a bad scratch?"

Crossing her arms, Hermione frowned at her former teacher. "What does that matter? It wasn't a full moon. He might be more sensitive to certain smells and like his steak overly rare. Don't look at him like some kind of monster, Severus."

A crooked and inappropriately timed smile at her response quirked the corner of George's mouth. He knew the issue of werewolf rights had been a thorn for Hermione since the end of Lupin's term as their professor. But she was right, he wasn't really a werewolf, not any more than Bill had been.

"It matters…" He sneered at her. "Because Greyback isn't like other werewolves. Have you ever met someone he's attacked before?"

"Yeah. My older brother."

"And, was he bitten or scratched? Do you have any idea when in the lunar cycle it happened?"

The intense look Snape was giving him along with the fact that as a Death Eater, he'd likely spent more time around the beast than most made George pause. Frowning, he thought back to the night Dumbledore had been killed. He hadn't been there, not until after with his family in the hospital wing. "He was scratched… across the face." Unsure, he slowly shook his head. "I don't know about the moon. That was the night you killed Dumbledore." Snape looked uncomfortable at the mention of his future, but didn't comment. "I didn't even think about it."

Sighing, Hermione took his hand under the table. "It was a waxing crescent. I only know because I was worried about your brother too but didn't want to intrude. Remus told me."

"I see." Snape looked a bit ill. "The Dark Lord likes to make use of his pet, though I've only seen it once. I think it gives him some kind of sick pleasure to torment wayward purebloods by tainting their blood and given what I learned about his own blood status from you it makes sense. Plus, it keeps Greyback happy. The full moon was three days away last night and you never answered me so I'll assume you were bitten. No, you're not a werewolf—lucky for you—but you may find your symptoms quite a bit more intense than your brother's."

Starting to grow concerned, George glanced at Hermione before asking the obvious next question. "What do you mean?"

Frustratingly, Snape only shrugged. "I've not followed these unlucky disgraced followers around taking notes. But from what I've heard it's more than rare steaks and overly sensitive olfactory glands." He glanced briefly at Hermione and smirked down at his hands. "You'll probably just be a bit tired this month though. It wasn't the full moon and that's what matters. Anyhow that's not really why we're here."

The sudden change in topic and Snape's knowing smirk left George feeling suspicious, but he was right. They had more important things to discuss. "Yeah… so what about the attack on the Burrow? What happened after on your end?"

Clearly back in more comfortable territory, Snape met his eyes again. "First off, I'd like to know how you know my spell and ask that you not use it in future. Fortunately for all of us, the Dark Lord was too distracted being furious to notice the lone survivor was bleeding out from a very specific spell he would have recognized had he bothered to look."

Hermione shifted slightly, looking apologetic. "Sorry about that. I knew better, really I did. At the moment though, well he was on top of George and it's one of the only curses I could think of that would have even affected him."

Not looking satisfied, Snape crossed his arms and glared at her. "How do you even know it? It's one I invented personally and I highly doubt I'd ever go around sharing it with students."

"Well…" Hermione sniffed and crossed her arms as well. "Perhaps you should have kept better track of your old textbooks once you were through with them."

His eyes widened and his jaw sagged open just for a moment before he got control of himself. "Shite."

Feeling like piling on, George pushed his hair to the side, revealing his missing ear. "I have personal experience."

Snape leaned forward with morbid interest. "Did I do that to you?"

George nodded.

"Hmm… must have been trying not to do any real damage. It's so precise… would have been easier to take off your head with that spell than just your ear."

That made George pause. He had always assumed the minor damage had been the accident and that Snape had meant to hurt him worse. Though given what he knew now, it made more sense that he'd not been trying to really hurt anyone.

"Well… try not to use it again. It could be awkward explaining to the Dark Lord how Order members know my personal spell. Anyway, as I mentioned before, the pair of you, along with your cousins, are high value targets. The four Death Eaters that attacked you were just those assigned to watch the Burrow. It usually has impenetrable warding but the location and connection are known." He shrugged. "I wasn't clear on why Greyback was there though they might have contacted him once they realized the wards were open and you were there. His predilection for children isn't exactly a secret."

Shifting as his shoulders tensed, his hand tightening around Hermione's, George wished he had a wider repertoire of extremely painful curses to have drawn on in their fight the night before. "They weren't supposed to attack us then?"

"No." Snape shook his head. "I think they thought they'd earn the Dark Lord's favor by killing you themselves. Idiots thought they could take on the Prewett twins. You two are more or less unknowns but your cousins are not. I'm a better dueler than any of the four you faced and I'd want at least three or four other competent people with me if I were going to attack them."

Nodding to himself, George remembered what Gideon had said that morning. "In our future, it took five of your lot to kill them. That's what we thought though: their stupidity worked in our favor."

Beside him, Hermione, who had been quietly fuming, finally spoke up. "Dumbledore deserves to be sent to Azkaban for what he did. If they had been just a little bit smarter, if the Dark Lord had sent more skilled and numerous soldiers… we could have all been killed. Your brothers…"

Snape frowned. "What about Dumbledore?"

Clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes in an effort to control the still simmering rage, George let out a tight breath and told Snape what their former headmaster had done to his family. By the time he finished, the other man looked only a little surprised.

"Well, I've always known he was a bastard. I don't understand why the whole bloody wizarding world falls all over themselves like he's Merlin reborn."

"Merlin reborn or not, we have a plan to deal with him as well." Hermione's voice was hard as she glared angrily down at the table between them.

The barest hint of a smile twisted Snape's mouth as he nodded once. "Well, I certainly won't stand in your way on that front. But I hope whatever this plan is it doesn't involve being out and about. If you're seen again, the Dark Lord won't be taking any chances."

George stood in the kitchen at the Burrow, fidgeting with his wand as he stared blindly out the wide window. Kingsley was inspecting the ward stones with Hermione, Fabian and his father, but George's mind still lingered over the conversation with Snape. In particular, he wondered what exactly he'd meant about more intense symptoms.

He tried to think back over every interaction or conversation he'd had with Bill after the night he'd been attacked by Greyback. Had there ever been any hint of more than the mild changes his older brother had more or less shrugged off? They'd not seen much of one another after the wedding until the end of the war and after… well George hadn't paid much attention to anyone else.

On more than one occasion he had seen Bill eat what looked like nauseatingly undercooked meat but usually only on the days closer to the full moon. Once, he had stopped by the shop with Order news and whatever potion Fred had been working on at the time had Bill turning right back around and yelling over his shoulder to visit Shell Cottage. Other than that, George hadn't noticed anything weird about his brother.

Was Snape right? Would he be different? It was that glance to Hermione and the smirk that was most bothering him. What did she have to do with anything? He wished they'd gotten to know Remus this time so he could ask him about it. Even if his experience was that of a full werewolf, he might know more about Greyback and whatever nonsense Snape had been implying.

Hearing someone come down the stairs behind him, George shook himself from his thoughts. He could worry about it later—as long as he wasn't going to be an actual werewolf or be doing any human mauling it didn't matter.

"They done out there yet?" Gideon joined him at the window, frowning as George continued idly fidgeting with his wand. "Come on Georgie, you should know better than to play with your wand."

Rolling his eyes but stowing his wand, he gestured out the window. "No idea. Haven't seen them since they headed out there. No signs of any angry spellfire so he's taking it better than Hermione did at least."

"Hmm…" crossing his arms, Gideon turned and leaned his back against the counter. "Kingsley's family is a lot like ours, loyal to Dumbledore. He was a year or two ahead of us in school, a Gryffindor like most of the rest of the Order. But he's smart, got common sense. Hopefully he'll be on our side for this."

"We'll see." He nodded out the window again. "Here they come."

They walked side by side up the property towards the garden, Hermione gesticulating wildly beside a stoic and thoughtful Kingsley. By the time they reached the house, she seemed to have spoken her piece because she was quiet as they all filed in. Kingsley shook his head as he sat down at the table.

"I hear what you're saying, Helen. I do. I just… it's so hard to believe. Dumbledore is so interested in you that he put the Weasleys at such risk? For what reason? What's so important about the pair of you that he'd go to such lengths?"

Hermione shook her head as she slotted herself between George and his uncle against the counter, leaning into George's side. They'd discussed whether or not they should tell anyone else where they were truly from. The more people who knew the higher chance there was of it getting back to Voldemort. As it was, there were likely too many in the know already.

"We have no idea. You'd have to ask him. Maybe it has something to do with the shield hats? They're ours, Gideon and Fabian are lending us their names as no one knows who we are. But honestly Kingsley, I'm not sure his reasoning matters. What he's done is inexcusable."

Drumming his fingers on the table, his lips pursed in thought, Kingsley was clearly torn. "I'll admit, the trigger… if it really was his I can't understand why he'd send us so late. Did he expect the Burrow to be attacked like the home of any other blood traitor family? Did he want them all to be slaughtered?"

Frustrated, but not surprised, George sighed. "Who else could have possibly placed the alarm? How else would he have known to send you when none of us had thought to send for help?"

Kingsley threw his hands up in frustration. "I just… I refuse to believe that he would act so irrationally! I want to hear it from him. If this was him, he has to have had a reason."

Sitting across from the auror, Arthur sighed, the weight of the last day wearing heavily on him. "Kingsley, call a meeting. Unlike you, I know it was him. I want to confront him in front of witnesses so he can't just obliviate me or worse to be rid of the complication."

The young auror thought for a moment before nodding as he stood from the table. "Fine. I'll see what I can do. Plan for tomorrow night. Gideon and Fabian know where headquarters are. I'll send a patronus when it's set."

Fabian walked Kingsley out and while he was gone, Gideon—scrubbing his hands down his face—sat down. "That went about as well as it could have. It's too bad we can't tell him the whole truth. And I've no idea how to explain the spy without sharing how you knew to trust him or what you have him doing."

George wrapped an arm around Hermione. "No one needs to know about all that, at least not for now. For now the most important thing is pressuring him into leaving us alone. We can't be worrying about what he might be up to on top of dodging Death Eaters."

Nodding, Hermione agreed. "There's no way to turn the whole Order completely against him without something more concrete… sadly. But maybe this will be enough to sew enough mistrust that he won't be able to get away with doing whatever he damn well pleases. I'd love to see him in Azkaban, but maybe a new Hogwarts headmaster by the end of all of this would be a start."

"Not sure I want my children at Hogwarts under his guardianship after this." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "To be honest, I'm not sure I feel comfortable even staying here as long as he has access to our wards."

Coming back into the room, Fabian clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Don't worry about that Arthur. You're all welcome at ours. We've double checked the wards and we've plenty of room. After the meeting we should be able to completely reset yours. I've actually got a few ideas to make them even stronger than before."

"Thank you Fabian. I'll tell Molly." He stood from the table and turned to leave. "It won't take us long to be ready."

After he'd gone upstairs, Fabian turned to George. "So, how do you feel about blood wards?"

GH

Much later that evening, Hermione carried a pain potion and two glasses of Ogden's up the stairs to their room. George's shoulder had started to bother him again while they'd been making dinner and it had been a long day. Besides Dumbledore and the same thoughts of war and danger she usually worried about, she'd been thinking about Bill and what Severus had said that morning all evening.

The first full moon after Bill had been attacked, Hermione had been staying at the Burrow. Since they were preparing for the wedding, Bill was often there as well and that day he'd not gotten out of bed. Fluer had taken him food and mentioned he wasn't feeling well but that was about it. She'd not ever seen him again on another full moon so she had no idea if they were the same.

She didn't want to worry about that anymore that night. She wanted to drink her liquor and kiss George and fall asleep beside him not worrying about the war or Dumbledore or where the moon was.

As she topped the last stairs and rounded the corner to their room, George's animated voice could be heard over giggles and the yowling of her cat. Poking her head into the room, she smiled at what she found. Not wanting to disturb them, she leaned against the lintel and watched the scene.

George sat in the middle of their bed surrounded by his brothers. Bill and Charlie leaned against his side, Percy snuggling Jasper in his lap, as he read to them. His face contorted as he changed his voice to match the characters, Babbitty Rabbitty clearly a story he hardly had to read from the page.

Warmth bloomed in her chest as she watched them. After the last twenty-four hours, this kind of easy good humor seemed all the more precious. They'd come so close to losing everything all over again, but there they sat—hale and whole and happy.

Blinking away the sudden stinging in the corner of her eyes, Hermione smiled wider when George noticed her. His smile for her was soft and filled with an emotion she could now allow herself to name as he turned the page and finished the story.

"She left the kingdom but forever after the statue of Babbitty remained on top of the stump, and no witch or wizard was hurt in that kingdom ever again."

Laughing to herself, Hermione stepped into the room as Charlie demanded another story. "Just one more? Please? Then we'll go upstairs and sleep, promise!"

Hermione set the drinks on the dresser and turned to the bed, handing George the potion over their squirming heads. He thanked her and downed it, wincing at the bitter taste. "I don't know boys, it's awfully late already, if you don't get up to bed soon your Mum or Dad are likely to come looking for you."

Faced with all three little boys' pleading faces and an amused George, she could hardly tell them no. "Alright, one more." Casting a stasis charm on the drinks to save the ice, she set her wand on the bedside table and joined them. "Budge over." They all made room for her, Charlie claiming her lap as George opened the book again.

"How about the Wizard and the Hopping Pot?"

Some fifteen minutes later, that was how Molly found them. Percy had somehow managed to fall asleep despite the giggling and storytelling, so George carried him up to their room as Molly herded the other boys out. When he came back, she had changed into a sleep shirt and sat with her knees under her chin in the middle of the bed.

"It's a little strange, they're my older brothers but they're so young." He sat down beside her, scratching absently at his shoulder through his shirt. "I remember when Bill was a bit older he'd read to us sometimes. Ron always liked Babbitty Rabbitty." Huffing a laugh, George smiled back at her. "They don't know who I am to them, but it's almost like being their brother again. Just the older one this time."

Summoning her beaded bag, she scooted closer to him. "They really do seem to like you a lot. Am I correct in assuming you'll want to stick around once the war's over? Stay in their lives?"

His smile turned thoughtful as she dug through her bag, but eventually he nodded. "Yeah. I don't know what it will be like with little George and Fred… but I have my family again, Hermione. They're part of what's keeping me sane."

Pulling out a pot of healing salve, she smiled slightly. "Only part?"

Without warning, he reached up and cupped her face, pulling her into a kiss. "Yeah, only part. If we had to, we could go somewhere else and I'd be ok." He kissed her again, slower this time. "I just don't want to."

Hermione would have forgotten about the salve in her lap—her hands both finding their way into his hair—if the tight, itchiness of the new scars hadn't eventually claimed his attention. Grumbling in frustration as he pulled away, George flopped back on the bed as he reached up his shirt to better scratch.

"Oh, here." She held up the pot and tugged on the corner of his shirt. "Take that off."

Sitting up and doing as she asked, he smirked. "Not the exact circumstances I imagined hearing you say that the first time."

Hermione scoffed but couldn't hold back the blush as she moved to sit behind him. His smirk widened when he noticed, until he looked down at himself. "I haven't really had a chance to look at them properly."

His long fingers ran along the raised pink marks and gingerly poked at the bruising. "Merlin, I'm hideous."

Laughing at his mocking tone, Hermione opened the pot of healing salve and scooped some onto her fingers. "Hardly. Bill had them across his face…" Her voice lowered as she focused harder than necessary on George's shoulder. "I always thought they made him look dangerous, but the sexy kind of dangerous most women like."

When he didn't respond, she glanced up to find him watching her over his shoulder, one brow arched in wicked amusement. "Thought Bill was sexy, did you?"

Blushing furiously, she scoffed. "Maybe… Maybe I'm just like most women and fancy men with dangerous looking scars."

George laughed then, shifting so he could tug her into his lap. "Well, lucky for me then."

She laughed too as she adjusted how she sat, wrapping her legs around his waist and scooping out another dollop of salve for his chest. "Git." Tracing the bite marks and the ragged lines where Greyback's claws had nearly punctured down to his lungs, her laughter faded as she remembered how bad it had been. "I could have lived without you almost dying though…"

He sighed. "I know." Two fingers slid under her chin, tipping her face up to his. "Please don't dwell on it, love. I'm alright…" His lips were warm against hers as he covered the hand on his chest with his own, pressing it over his rapidly beating heart. "I don't want you to think about that every time you see them." He laughed softly. "Think about how brave and sexy I am." She scoffed but he kissed her again. "Think about how much I love my family…" another, more forceful kiss, "about how much I love you."

"George…" but he didn't give her a chance to say anything else, wrapping his arms around her and holding her flush against himself and kissing her senseless.

Finally pulling away, his forehead pressed against hers as they both caught their breath. "I mean it. They don't bother me, well besides the itching, and sadness and guilt are the last things I want you to feel whenever you might see me naked."

Hermione burst into laughter at his joke, falling back onto the pillows when he relaxed his hold on her, laughing too. "George Weasley, you absolute git!"

"Oi! Rude."

Still laughing, she reached for the salve pot that had fallen from her lap as he flopped down beside her. "Here, roll over and let me finish."

Stealing one last kiss, he rolled onto his back so she could finish applying the salve. "You know…" He yawned. "I have a feeling I'm going to be exhausted tomorrow. We don't have anything planned besides the Order meeting, right?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Well, I'm sure your brothers will need entertaining. But if you need to sleep for the next few days you can." Finishing with his shoulder, she put the lid back on the pot and stood to set it on the dresser. Canceling the stasis on the Ogden's, she sipped from hers as she turned back to the bed to find George's eyes closed. "Are you asleep?"

"Mmmhmm."

Smiling softly down at him, she sat the glasses back down, banished the whiskey, cast a whispered nox and climbed into bed beside him. "Goodnight, George."

For the first time since they'd shared a bed, he wrapped himself around her and buried his face in her hair. George's breath was warm on her neck as he murmured 'goodnight' and Hermione only wished as she drifted off that they hadn't wasted so much time denying how they felt.