It was a muggle house.
A muggle house in a muggle neighborhood filled with muggle things intended for muggle people.
There were notches on the sitting room door frame, where her muggle parents had tracked her height over the years, stopping around her twelfth year when she was no longer there most of the time for comparison and that was on her, she knew. She'd leapt at the chance to spend weeks at the Burrow, to go to the Quidditch Cup, to stay at the school over holidays and get into whatever adventure Harry was on, to be anywhere but in that muggle house on the muggle street in a muggle neighborhood.
With her muggle parents.
Hermione stood outside of 8 Heathgate, Hampstead, but could not make herself walk inside.
It was a nice house, spacious without being too large, and had a nice if boring backyard that really could use a swing set or some landscaping. She'd never been much for outdoor sports, and all three of them had black thumbs and couldn't keep plants alive, so it was a blank canvas back there.
She hoped the next family loved the house the way her parents had; the way she wished she could have in hindsight. Before the letter from Hogwarts, it had been her haven. The place she felt safe from bullies, where she could do what she pleased without judgment. It was so strange how a piece of paper can change your entire perception of the world. She'd not even stepped foot on the train to Hogwarts when this house became a prison for her, one that she spent the next six years trying to get away from. She wanted floating candles and ghosts in the rafters, faces in the fire and the warmth of a wand in her hand. She wanted the fizzy bubbles of butterbeer and the wonder of a library of magical books that would bite if you touched them wrong but could give you the power to make the most beautiful things.
She hadn't wanted a muggle life.
"Are we going inside?"
"No," she muttered, clenching her bag more tightly in her hand. Harry and Ron had left her and Theo at the International Portkey Station, heading off to catch up on the auror training they'd missed. They'd stayed with them in Melbourne for two days before the four of them had decided there was no point and returned to England. The Healers had been very clear; they couldn't restore her parents' memories and just interacting with her threatened the stability of their minds. She was an intrinsic part of not just the casting but the memories themselves and if they tried to rise, it would be a disaster.
"We'll just stand out here in the night, then," Theo pointed out, leaning against the white picket fence and staring at the house with her. It was a fraction of the size of Nott Manor but he had the rather romantic notion that this house was more haunted now than his own, because happy memories hurt worse than the bad ones in grief.
"There's a box in the sitting room, will you retrieve it for me?" Hermione asked, her voice hoarse with strain. "It's got some broken things inside I want them."
Theo nodded and retrieved the box, sealing and shrinking it down and waiting for her next move. He locked the front door behind him, he didn't imagine she'd be going inside at this rate.
"We'll need somewhere to stay," she whispered, sliding the box into her bag and reaching out to grasp his hand, and was pleasantly surprised by how easily Theo entwined their fingers. He'd been so good to her the last few days, just as kind as her two best friends. He'd become just as vital to her, and it had very little to do with the magical support he was providing during her recovery and everything to do with the connection they'd found in the middle of battle. They'd come from opposite sides of the spectrum, a loved muggleborn girl and an abused pureblood boy, but they were so similar and wanted so many of the same things. If Hermione had believed in divination, she'd almost say it was fate.
She wasn't comforted by the idea of destiny, though, she was resolved in knowing that she was living a life that was shaped by her own decisions. She had chosen this path and the only thing left was to walk it.
"I want to sell the house," she decided at that moment, taking a deep breath. "This house is not for me. I can't be here. I shouldn't be here."
Theo nodded slowly and idly pulled her towards the road, taking small steps until they were gradually but surely moving away from her childhood home. "Do you want to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron?" He saw her grimace and bit back a smile, swinging their hands lightly as they continued to walk. She'd yet to look back and he wasn't certain if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but her grip on his hand was firm.
"I'd prefer not," she admitted, "it's dingy and kind of dirty. Are there any nicer places to stay?"
"Not particularly. Inns are for people who don't own multiple homes," Theo explained in his poshest voice, pantomiming a sneer that could have rival Draco Malfoy at his snottiest. "My home is out of the question, the Ministry hasn't cleared my inheritance yet and I'm likely going to burn it down anyways. We could go to the Three Broomsticks, it's not too bad."
"That might be best. Unlikely to be seen by the Prophet there too," she agreed, pointing out, "given how much they've been chasing after Harry and Ron it's only a matter of time before they corner me too. Probably claim we're having a torrid love affair and I've broken Ron's heart."
"Oh, they're not likely to do that," Theo droned, a smile growing on his face. He reached for his magic and twisted, spinning them into a side apparition that had them landing in the approved apparition point outside of Hogsmeade. "I own the Prophet. Or rather the Notts do. My grandfather Edwin Nott expanded his fortunes with publishing, books and periodicals. He purchased the Daily Prophet during the first war, on the Dark Lord's orders. We've never sold it."
"So you're Rita Skeeter's boss?"
Theo glanced over, there was a tone in that question he didn't trust but for the first time in days Hermione looked something other than sad. "I suppose, though I don't involve myself in day-to-day operations. That's so plebeian."
Hermione twined her arm around his, laying her head on his shoulder as they continued towards The Three Broomsticks. "If we weren't going to be great friends before, we definitely are now."
Repairs at homes and businesses moved along at a good pace, but repairing Hogwarts was an entirely different sort of renovation. The building was one of the oldest magical dwellings in the Wizarding World, it wasn't as simple as levitating a stone back into place or casting a Reparo and hoping for the best. There were centuries of casting imbued into the very stone of the castle, not only would Hogwarts resist foolish wand waving but the protective magic needed to be recast before replacement.
Headmistress McGonagall knew that the school would always be a target for the Dark; the minds and magic of the youth was the most powerful tool evil could hope for. Indoctrination was an insidious method for recruitment but Voldemort hadn't been the first to try it and wouldn't be the last. She wanted something different for future generations, something better than torture in the hallways, blood quills in detention, and the sorrow of dead classmates. Albus Dumbledore had arguably been the best Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, one of the most powerful and clever certainly, but not even he had been able to protect the students from everything.
She would do better.
She may not be able to outthink evil masterminds, but she could outmagic them.
"You are two of the most inventive and brilliant Charm Masters I've ever seen," she held up her hand to forestall any interruptions from them, "and yes, I call you Charm Masters because if you'd stayed in school that mastery would have been a foregone conclusion. No matter how frustrating it is that you've turned your talents to driving me barmy, I cannot deny your talent. Now I need you to use it to help me protect the future."
"Minnie, are you flirting with us?" George asked with a grin, leaning back and winking at her, though there was a touch of blush on his cheeks that betrayed how touched he was by her statements. Neither he nor Fred had ever been complimented like this; they were much more used to backhanded compliments that praised but also chastised them.
"What do they call older women who take young lovers, Forge? Tigers? Panthers?" Fred asked with a devious grin, leaning forward and leering comically at her.
"Cougars," George provided, chuckling at the Headmistress's sneer. "I mean, I'm a taken wizard but Gred here is free, Minnie, I'm sure he'd be more than-"
"Stop jesting, please," she interrupted, glaring at them and remembering why she generally avoided being alone with the two pranksters. Behind her she heard the portraits tittering and knew that they'd be having a jolly laugh at her expense over the next few months at least, if not years. "I'd like your assistance with creating a charm for the castle. One that prevents violence within the walls, from outside forces who invade, from teachers, and from students." She couldn't discount that there had been times in recent years when the students had perpetuated a few fights of their own.
George and Fred glanced at each other and thought it through, silently communicating in a way that only very close siblings could. They agreed it was possible; there were charms that could read intent and respond based on the input. Fred had often wondered if the charms were reading the thoughts of the enchanted or if it responded to pheromones that were produced as the body responded to thoughts of violence, like adrenaline. They then wondered if it would be possible to narrow down the scope, because honestly sometimes students had earned a jab to the face and there was a large difference between intent to harm and reactionary lashing out.
"What would you like to happen to the wizards who came to Hogwarts wanting to hurt people? Disapparation to a preprogrammed location? Violent expulsion?"
"Ohhh, like an ejection seat in the muggle air-o-planes?" George asked excitedly, already seeing Death Eaters flung into the air deep into the Forbidden Forest in his head.
"I was thinking more a version of the petrificus totalus, and an alert to the professors when triggered so that we can investigate the incident," she explained with a dry tone, not trusting the gleeful way their eyes were wheeling as they thought through the semantics of the request. "I don't want anyone harmed, I just want them stopped. I've had Madam Pince pull a few books I think may have a starting foundation for the charm but the library is still in shambles. Any charm you create will need to be cast into the foundation stones which are thankfully still secure. I know this will require a good deal of your time, Hogwarts is prepared to compensate you."
"Nonsense," Fred shrugged off the offer, leaning back and pulling out a scroll to start noting down some thoughts. "Hogwarts was our home."
Her eyes were a bit shinier than before at the nonchalant declaration and she swallowed heavily before turning her eyes away until she knew she was calm once more. "The library is at your disposal for whatever research you need. I've adjusted the wards to allow you to come and go from Hogwarts as you need," she paused and glanced at them warningly, "just until the term starts. This is not permission for you to run amok during the school year."
"Minnie, darling, would we do that?" Fred asked with a pout, standing and leaning over to shake her hand in a professional manner that startled her just a bit. His approach was ruined when George immediately leaned over to kiss her hand lasciviously.
"We'll get started now. The storefront is pretty slow right now, not many have returned to Diagon Alley yet so we've plenty of time to sort this out," Fred explained, grabbing George by the scruff of his neck and pushing him towards the door. "Pretty easy modification and recombination of a couple of different charms, we'll want to make sure we pick the right ones, however, and test the durability so we can predict how often it'll need reapplied, as well as key points for application within the castle for full coverage-"
"I understand, Mr. Weasley, please keep me updated on your progress."
The twins sauntered down the empty halls, dodging debris and rocks while they talked through several possibilities. They weren't in a rush to head back to the shop, not with Ron and Charlie in their place filling mail orders and the till. They'd had plenty of time in the two months since the battle to refill their stock and knew the two men had plenty enough practice that they wouldn't need them anytime soon.
"We should really think through getting some house elves for the shop," George pointed out, turning them wordlessly towards the Hogwarts library. They had silently agreed this was a perfect time to pull a few choice books (if they still existed and hadn't been destroyed during the battle) they'd long had their eyes on. Pince would have no reason to deny them access to the Restricted Section now, and these particular tomes could be helpful with the Headmistress' request and if they were really more helpful with other projects, well a little tit for tat wasn't unexpected, was it?
"It would keep our recipes secret, that's for sure, but could they do the enchantments or would we still need to be there for those? We'll also need to pay them, Godric forbid Hermione find out we've got house elves not getting a wage. How much does one pay a house elf?"
"We could ask her," George pointed out as they walked through the open doors of the Library, "she is right there."
Fred spun around and there she was; moving along the stacks of bookshelves and sliding books into place from the cart beside her. Her hair was braided behind her, loose curls dancing around her face as she moved back and forth, some dust and sweat along her hairline evidence of a long day working in the library. It was the first time Fred had seen her since the day after the battle when he and his family had bid her goodbye and headed back to the Burrow to recover and repair their childhood home. At that time, she'd been dozing in a cot near the edge of the Great Hall declining Molly's offer of a place to stay with a shy smile, avoiding their eyes and still very pale and tired. Their mother had pressed her hand against Hermione's cheek and pressed a kiss against her forehead, whispering something he'd not heard before turning and pressing her family towards the floo that had been opened to allow easy entry and exit for St. Mungo's healers, something they were taking advantage of instead of trekking down to Hogsmeade to apparate. They'd thought she'd join them in a few days when she was feeling better, but she'd instead gone home and Fred hadn't seen her since.
"Oi, Granger! You been avoiding us?" Fred shouted heedlessly; this was a library but any room that lacked a roof shouldn't be held to the same rules; it lacked sanctity when you could see the sky above.
"Fred Weasley, this is a library!" She instinctively hissed, spinning around with a glare that immediately melted into a fond smile. She stepped around the cart and held open her arms, not surprised when the twins hugged her so hard that her feet dangled above the ground. "I missed you guys!"
"That's easily resolved-"
"-by coming around-"
"-to see us instead of-"
"-swanning around with Slytherins. Have-"
"-you even been to the Burrow to see mum? She's been asking-"
"-about you for weeks now, worried to death-"
"-that you're not eating well enough, she's been force feeding-"
"-Ron and Harry and Ginny, honestly at this rate-"
"-she should open a restaurant."
Hermione listened intently as they bounced the singular thought back and forth, her grip as fierce as ever around their shoulders and they seemed just as disinclined to release her. George eased back and watched with some interest as she and Fred seamlessly closed the gap, her arms encircling his neck and he softened just enough that she slowly slid down enough to place her tiptoes on top of his boots.
"You do look like you need to eat more, 'Mione," George observed, reaching over and tweaking her cheek where soft hollows still remained. She looked better than she had at the battle but that wasn't saying much because the Golden Trio had looked terrible when they arrived. It was no comfort when Fleur had explained later that they'd already improved some at that time, benefiting from time spent at Shell Cottage with her and Bill.
"I'm trying," she confessed with a shrug, settling herself far enough back that her feet were fully on the floor. Her hands lingered on Fred's forearms and she was surprised to find that she was reluctant to fully step back. She wasn't certain if it was because being around someone so carelessly affectionate as Fred was such a change from being with Theo who was only slowly getting used to the affection she wanted to bestow or if it was because it was Fred. She was incredibly happy to see them both again, mostly whole after everything they'd gone through and still maintaining the good humor that had set them apart from everyone else at Hogwarts.
"Theo went to grab some lunch from the kitchens," she explained, "we've been here trying to sort through the books with Madam Pince for most of the days, but it's terrible. So many of them are ruined; fire, rain, trampling. I've been looking for Toller's Treatise on Transformative Talismans for two days to revise for my N.E.W.T. and it's nowhere to be found."
"Oh, we can explain that, it's back at the flat. Borrowed it before we left, didn't we, Gred?" George confided in a low voice, looking around like he expected the librarian to pop up any second and curse him.
"You stole a library book?" Hermione asked incredulously, smacking Fred in the chest when he laughed. "That is not funny, that is theft!"
"We were going to return it, but then…well, we left and it was in our rucksack. I'll grab it tonight and bring it back if it makes you happy," Fred offered with a sheepish smile. He still had his arms wrapped around her waist but he was enjoying the warmth of her so close and didn't step back, not even when Theo stomped through the door with a tray of food and a placid look on his face.
"Hermione, come eat," he called out, pausing when he saw the Weasley twins there too. "There's enough for you two as well if you want to join us."
"I'd never turn down a tea with Theodore Nott," George announced, "especially one catered by the Hogwarts elves. Oh, that reminds me, Hermione, where does one go to, er, recruit house elves?"
The four of them sat at a cleared off table in an alcove just off the main area of the library and consumed the entire tray of sandwiches and butterbeer. The three men ate a majority of it and all three were watching intently as Hermione picked at her food, eating several bites but clearly reluctant to eat more. Fred noticed that when he and George got her laughing she'd take another bite after, so silently the two agreed to get her laughing as much as they could. It took the whole hour but her entire sandwich was gone by the time they were done. Fred and Theo shared a pleased look at the progress and with a wave of his wand, Theo sent the tray back to the kitchens.
Hermione and George moved off into the stacks, discussing several books that she thought would help him and Fred with the charm McGonagall had requested and Fred hung back to talk to Theo.
They'd never spoken to each other before, at least not directly, but Fred jumped in with both feet anyways. "How is she doing, really?"
"She's getting better but it's slower than she'd like. The trip to Australia was ill-timed, set us back a bit. I'd be happier if she was eating and sleeping more, I think it would help," Theo admitted, leaning back against the table and studying the wizard before him. This was the man that Hermione had sacrificed herself for not so long ago; he was curious as to why. Had she done it out of instinct to save people, her own good nature winning out over self preservation, or had it been this specific wizard she wanted to save?
"What do the healers say?"
"Haven't seen any."
"Why the bloody hell not? She looks like a stiff wind would blow her over!"
Theo shrugged, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. "It's her decision, she doesn't want to go. She knows what's wrong, knows that only time can fix it, so she doesn't want to waste anyone's time or worry anyone." He paused before continuing, "You should come by more often." He waited until Fred looked him in the eyes, judging the concern and care that was weighted there. "This is the happiest I've seen her since what happened with her parents, and the most she's eaten. I could use some support in taking care of our witch."
Our witch, Fred thought it over but it rang true. He nodded solemnly, thinking of all the excuses he could come up with to stop by Hogwarts in the near future. Luckily McGonagall had given him the perfect reason to make a nuisance of himself.
"You've been quiet today, " Hermione complained over dinner that night. She and Theo were taking it at the Three Broomsticks, knowing that Hogwarts was still limited to cold repast until the kitchens were fully repaired. She blew slowly over the stew in front of her, looking forward to the savory beef broth and tender bread that Rosmerta was known for. She almost thought it felt like hunger but it felt so foreign to her now that she wasn't certain.
"Why did you save Fred during the battle? Knowing that I'd told you that you were already near drained?" Theo asked baldly, pausing in his own consumption to study her expression as she thought over the question.
"It's not an easy answer," she admitted, and Theo saw with some regret that she'd put down her spoon. He hadn't meant to distract her from eating. "I'll admit that I didn't truly believe that I was so near death, I'd felt drained like that so much over the past few months that it felt like the norm by then. When I saw that spell I knew it was going to kill him, and maybe even Percy too and it felt like it was the only thing I could do. The Weasleys had become my family, they'd accepted me when I came to the magical world, made me feel like I truly belonged somewhere for the first time in my life; what could I do except save my family? Even if it meant that I would fall?"
"So not because you've been secretly in love for years?"
She giggled, a pure giddy sound that echoed out of their shadowy booth and brightened the room. Theo saw several other consumers glance over appreciatively but knew they couldn't see them due to privacy charms he'd placed when they sat. Just because the papers wouldn't be publishing any rubbish about them didn't mean people wouldn't gossip anyways.
Hermione took a small bite of her stew, pleased to see it was the right temperature now. "No, I've not been secretly in love with Fred. I don't know that I've ever thought of him that way."
"What about now? You two were looking chummy when I came with lunch today," Theo pointed out, pushing his buttered bread closer to her in a silent offer that she immediately took. He'd finished his own stew and was thinking of having a firewhiskey as a chaser, but wanted to wait until she finished before breaking the privacy charm.
"Well…" she hesitated before grinning at him disarmingly, "...he is quite fit."
Theo grinned back, which was about as close to a laugh as he ever got. "I've noticed."
"We're friends. I don't think he's ever thought of me that way, and I didn't used to think of him that way either."
"But you do now?"
"No," she immediately replied, pushing her stew away half finished, grumbling when Theo pushed it back and nodded meaningfully that she needed to eat more. "Maybe a little," she prevaricated, "can't help but notice how well built he is when we're hugged up, can I?"
"I don't think he minded being snuggled up with you, Hermione," Theo offered, watching as she slurped up the last of the stew and leaned back into the booth, pressing a hand against her stomach with a soft sigh. He silently broke the charm and waved Rosmerta over, ordering a firewhiskey for them both. If she didn't want hers, he'd be more than happy to finish both of them. Neither of them had been sleeping very well after walking the destroyed halls of Hogwarts the past week.
"He's a friendly bloke," she defended, toying with the glass of firewhiskey but not drinking and not meeting Theo's eyes. "It likely doesn't mean anything."
Theo tilted his back and cleaned the glass, setting it down with a thump. "He didn't give me a hug when he left. Didn't even shake my hand."
"Was there anyone you liked in school?" Hermione asked, regretting it instantly. She knew that Theo was still recalcitrant to discuss his inclinations, they hadn't really even touched the topic since that night in Australia. She prepared to change the subject but Theo surprised her.
"Oliver Wood."
"What?!"
"I didn't go to Quidditch matches because I liked the sport, Hermione."
She laughed long and loud, reaching out and downing the firewhiskey in one swallow before letting her laughter fade. "Another thing you and I have in common."
Author's Note: I've added some images to go with the story to my tumblr and the Ao3 version of the story.