Notes:
In response to a prompt by WeasleysWitchesWriters in the LoF2024 collection.
This story was written for the Weasley's, Witches and Writers Language of Flowers Fest 2024.
The flower I chose for this fest was the Iris.
Iris – Fire, Valour, Authority
There is something to be said about an iris. The plant is poisonous, deadly in fact, from their delicate petals to their buried roots. They were beautiful to look at but could kill if consumed.
Despite its deadly nature, an Iris was said to hold power, if used correctly; an iris could hold the power of authority, faith, healing, magic, and energy for pure aims. The iris could also hold the power to protect from evil spirits as well as the powers of purification, reincarnation, and wisdom.
In the Magical world the iris was a plant often used in potions and rituals, it was revered for its magical and symbolic properties. Whereas in the Muggle World the plant was little more than a pretty flower that was poisonous to consume.
Once upon a time in the fifth century the iris had been a sacred symbol of divine protection and royalty. It had also been believed that having a vase of them in your home would cleanse the energy of your house. Muggles also believed that the points of the iris flower symbolised faith, wisdom, and valour. Of course these beliefs stemmed from before the Statute of Secrecy when Wix would help their muggle neighbours by brewing up potions or performing rituals, they'd share their knowledge of the magical properties of the local Fauna and Flora, and this knowledge was in turn shared with others.
Most Muggles in today's society have no knowledge of the possible powers or symbolism of flowers. If they do, they most likely viewed it as Folklore, the way they did Merlin and King Arthur. The Wizarding World after all could not remove all traces of magic from the world when the statute had been enacted and as such stories still remained, but Muggles did not know that these stories held truth, in most cases they were seen as little more than fairy tales. Of course there is always the odd person who believes in such things and often they are viewed to be charmingly eccentric or else completely barmy.
Growing up Hermione Granger had always loved irises, her grandparents had kept a large patch of them growing in their garden, not just the more common purple varieties of the plant but rarer colourful varieties as well. Her grandfather had made it his personal challenge to collect as many irises as possible and gift them to his wife throughout their relationship.
"An iris for my Iris," her grandfather used to say when gifting her grandmother a new variety of the plant. Iris Granger would always grin at him, excited to see his latest find. There were over three hundred types of irises known to the world and during their time together, he'd managed to find many of them on his travels, bringing them back to gift to his beloved wife.
"Thank you, my love," her grandmother would reply, and she'd take the newest flower out into the garden to a patch that was bright with sunlight and colourful flowers. Iris would plant the latest addition lovingly and Hermione had helped her grandmother to do this countless times as she was growing up.
Planting colourful irises, her grandmother's namesake had been a precious part of her childhood, and that patch of flowers was one of her favourite places in the world. Growing up she'd always hoped to find someone who loved her as much as Grandpa John loved Granny Iris, to find someone who would gift her beautiful flowers too.
While at Hogwarts she missed visiting with her grandparents, who lived two doors down the street from her own home with her parents. She loved having the opportunity to visit with them during the holidays when she'd be able to see the new floral additions to their garden but missed been able to visit them whenever she wanted as she had before attending the magical school.
Before the start of her First Year her grandmother had helped her to take a single flower from each and every variety of iris that they had growing in their garden.
Hermione had pressed each and every one of them into a large leather-bound journal and had printed the name of each variety in cursive underneath the pressed flower. She had also written a brief description of the story behind each flower that her grandfather had gifted. It was a book of love, each and every flower was a representation of how much her grandparents loved each other and how much they loved her. During the first few weeks at the school when she'd struggled to fit in and make friends, the book had offered comfort to her, a reminder that there were people in the world that loved and cared for her.
Often during those first few weeks she'd curl up in the common room and look at her pressed flowers late at night when the other Gryffindor's slept. It was strange to share a bedroom after not having shared one before, she found it difficult to sleep when she could hear every breath, movement, and snore of her roommates. As such she often curled up on the old worn couch in front of the crackling common room fire. It was during one such night when our love story begins.
Fred Weasley, prankster extraordinaire and one half of the Weasley Twins stifled a yawn as he made his way into the Common Room. It was late, long past curfew. He'd been out late setting up a prank on the Slytherin students.
In the morning anyone who exited the Common Room in the Dungeons would do so sporting Gryffindor red and gold hair as well as the Gryffindor uniform. Fred grinned at the thought of this, imagining the morning's chaos. There would be an uproar in the serpent house for sure.
He'd also stopped off at the kitchens for an evening snack and had a bag filled with sweets to share with George and Lee once he made it back into their Third Year Boys dormitory.
Fred began to make his way across the Common Room to the staircase that led up to the boy's dormitories. He managed to make it halfway across the large room when a small snore drew his attention to the sofa directly in front of the fire.
From his position he couldn't see who still remained in the Common Room but figured he'd best wake them up. He'd fallen asleep more than once and the sofas weren't the comfiest when laid on for an extended period. He approached the couch carefully and peered over the back at it, a grin lighting up his face as he took in the tiny figure who slept there.
Hermione Granger was an intriguing person, she was tiny even for a First Year, Fred was certain Ginny was taller than the brunette witch. He'd first noticed her on the train platform, the only person who arrived already dressed in their robes. He'd helped her lift her trunk onto the train before finding a compartment with his friends. He'd seen her again when she'd barged into said compartment and demanded if he had seen Neville's toad. He'd cheered for her when she was placed in Gryffindor and had kept an eye on the little witch during her first few weeks at the school.
Fred wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to Hermione. He knew she'd been having a challenging time making friends and settling into the castle. Ron couldn't stop complaining about her and he knew lots of the other First Years disliked how intelligent she was.
Hermione was currently curled up on the red couch, her mass of curls atop of a gold pillow. She was dressed in a pair of knee length blue polka dot shorts, fluffy bed socks and a white t-shirt that had a purple heart and a cartoon image of a person. The person wore flare trousers, sandals, and a crop top. They had yellow hair with glasses pushed up onto their head, a flower rested behind their ear. The person held a handbag, and small flowers and hearts were drawn around her, the words Groovy Chick were also written on the top.
Fred was bemused by the outfit but thought Hermione looked adorable as she slept, peaceful quiet snores emitted from her, and a tiny bit of drool escaped her mouth onto the cushion. A book laid open, face down on the floor beside her sofa, Hermione must have dropped it when she had fallen asleep.
Fred walked around the sofa and knelt beside her, he gently lifted up the book and turned it over. The book held pressed flowers, he thumbed through it, noticing that they were all irises and that each one held a short story:
This was the very first iris that grandpa gave to Granny, as a sign of his devotion to her when he left to complete his National Service in the army. Granny Iris says that it is her favourite flower that Grandpa has gotten her as it was the start of their love story.
Grandpa John travelled to the Amazon Rainforest and brought back this flower for my Granny Iris.
When Granny had my father, Grandpa gave her this iris to signify the start of their next adventure as a family of three.
The leather journal must have had at least one hundred pressed irises within it, each with the name of the variety and a brief description of how Hermione's Grandpa John had gifted it to her Granny Iris, Fred thought the concept was very sweet, kind of like how his father gifted his mother different flowers using the Language of Flowers as a way to convey his feelings. He carefully closed the Journal and set it on a small side table beside the sofa.
"Hermione," he whispered to the sleeping girl, her nose twitched, and he grinned, it was adorable.
"Hermione you need to wake up," he said it a little louder and she groaned rolling away from him.
"Hermione you can't sleep in the Common Room, you'll regret it in the morning," he tried again, raising the volume of his voice slightly.
"Go away," she muttered sleepily, using one arm to try and hit him, he let out a belly laugh at the sight, she was like a little kitten standing up to a fully grown lion, Hermione groaned at his laughter and flopped over onto her back, glaring up at him.
"You're awake," he said happily.
"No thanks to you Fredrick Weasley," she spat before stifling a large yawn.
"I'm George actually," he grinned, she squinted at him and shook her head, her curls flying everywhere, it reminded him of a lion shaking its mane.
"No you're not, George doesn't have a freckle here," as she spoke, she poked her finger into the skin under his left eye, his eyes widened, not even his parents had picked up on that small detail, it was the only physical difference between him and his twin, a tiny brown freckle no bigger than a pinprick.
"Very observant Miss Granger, not even our parents have noticed that" he told her honestly.
"I have excellent observational skills," she nodded as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her legs crossed on the sofa.
"What's a Groovy Chick," he asked curiously gesturing to her pyjama top, Hermione looked down at herself, a blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Oh it's a Muggle thing, it's a brand aimed at girls," she stammered embarrassed, he nodded and grinned at her.
"Cool, I like learning about Muggle thing's," he told her.
"You do," she questioned curiously, he nodded.
"My Dad's obsessed with Muggles, we tinker on old cars, radios and other muggle technologies together," he told her.
"Do you miss them when you are at school," she asked quietly, he watched as she reached for the journal and held it protectively to her chest, he rose to his feet and took a seat on the sofa beside her as he would do with Ginny.
"Sometimes, I have some of my siblings here but it's different from been at home with everyone, I miss tinkering with my dad in the shed and I miss my mum's cooking. I owl them often as well as my older brothers and little Ginny," he told her.
"I miss my family," she told him, to his alarm she began to sniffle, little tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.
"Hey Hermione, it's okay, it's natural to miss your family," he told her, reaching out to take one of her hands in his.
"I was so excited to be told I was a witch, I hoped I'd be able to finally find a place to fit in but since getting here I've made no friends and the other kids ridicule me for been smart, I just want to go home," she told him before bursting into tears, Fred pulled her into his arms and made soothing sounds, holding her to him the way he'd done many times with his little sister. Hermione clutched to him tightly, her small body shaking, and he tried to comfort her the best he could.
"It's okay, you're okay, Hermione, everyone misses home sometimes," he told her. "I'm sorry that the other First Year's have been mean to you, you don't deserve that, your intelligence should be encouraged. Screw them all, you'll make friends, I'll be your friend, I bet you could produce some fantastic pranks with that brain of yours. I guess it must be strange and difficult to learn you're a witch and to come to Hogwarts, I imagine the transition must be quite difficult, having never known of magic or the Wizarding World," he told her in a bit of a ramble, Hermione let out a watery chuckle against his chest.
"Fred, shut up," she whispered, to him, he settled his head atop of hers, her soft curls tickling his chin slightly.
"Do you feel a bit better," he asked after a while of them both sitting in silence, the only sound in the room been that of the crackling fire in front of them.
"I do, thank you," she said, she pushed away from him, and wiped her eyes on the back of her hands.
"Here," he said, reaching into his pocket for the clean handkerchief he always carried but very rarely used.
"Thank you," she whispered, taking it from him, to dab at her red rimmed eyes.
"First Year will get better, I promise, let's sit together for breakfast in the morning," he told her quietly, Hermione nodded.
"Fred, you don't have to be my friend, I'm sure you'd rather sit with the Third Years and not the First Year that has cried all over you," she told him in a whisper, he frowned at her and shook his head.
"Hermione if I didn't want to be your friend I wouldn't have asked you to be, I will save you a seat at breakfast in the morning. You should head up to bed and get some rest," he suggested.
"I usually sleep down here," she replied, gesturing to the sofa that they still sat on.
"Why's that, it's not very comfy down here," he asked with a worried frown upon his face.
"I don't have any siblings, at home it's just my parents and me. I find the Dormitory to be too noisy to sleep in, I'm not used to sharing a room with other people," she told him, Fred nodded.
"Let me teach you a silencing spell, you can cast it on your bed hangings and get a decent night's sleep," he suggested, Hermione nodded and it turned out she was a very quick study, within half an hour, she'd mastered the silencing charm and made her way up the staircase to the girls dorms after a final hug of thanks and a promise to sit together at breakfast.
The following morning Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall for Breakfast, she tentatively made her way into the hall and looked towards the Gryffindor table with apprehension.
"Hermione, over here, I've saved you a seat," Fred shouted, waving frantically from the middle of the half-filled table, she grinned and walked towards him.
"George, Lee, I'd like you to meet my new friend Hermione," he introduced, she smiled and said hello, taking the seat that had been saved opposite him, as both boys greeted her in turn before digging into their overflowing plates.
It was then that she looked down and saw the flower that sat beside her plate with a torn piece of parchment: A yellow Iris to represent the start of our friendship. – FW
Hermione very carefully reached into her bag and pulled out the leather journal that meant so much to her, she opened it to the first clean double page and carefully placed the new flower and note inside before looking up at the boy opposite her.
"Thank you, Fred," she grinned at him, he nodded at her with a smile and for the first time since she had started at Hogwarts, Hermione finally felt like she fit in, felt like she belonged.
The trio cracked jokes throughout breakfast and engaged her in exciting conversations on magical theory and tales of their previous pranks. Hermione had never laughed or grinned so much in her life, though she soon found herself laughing more when the Slytherins began trailing into the hall, each wearing murderous frowns with their Gryffindor robes and hair.
"That's our que to leave," Fred chuckled.
"What class do you have first Hermione," Lee asked her as they stood to exit the hall.
"Charms," she replied happily.
"We'll walk you, it's on our way," George grinned and Fred took her bag off of her to carry.
"Blimey, this is heavy, remind me to teach you the feather light charm tonight," he commented as he slung it over his shoulder.
"I have a lot of books," she told him sheepishly.
"Understandable," he nodded, and the trio led her out of the hall and all the way to Flitwick's class, promising to sit with her at lunchtime too.
Hermione beamed throughout Charms Class excited to see her new friends again, Ron Weasley's snide comments throughout the lesson not dampening her emotions in the slightest.
Friendship with Fred and by extension his twin and Lee came easily for Hermione. The trio were kind and funny but also smart. They didn't treat Hermione like she was below them or find her strange due to her intelligence and Muggle heritage. In many ways they were vastly different, but opposites often attracted and, in the years, to come, long after Harry and Ron had saved her from a mountain troll, becoming her friends in the process, Hermione valued her relationship with the older boys more than anything else, especially the relationship she shared with Fred.
For years they'd remained friends, incredibly good friends in fact, the best of friends one might even say. Fred made her laugh until she cried and was always willing to sneak down to the kitchens when she was craving something sweet in the wee hours of the night, after a vigorous studying session, he was always on hand to teach her new enchantments or to pull her away from dusty tomes so she could engage in some non-academic fun.
Fred had taken her on her first trip to Hogsmeade, showing her the quaint wizarding village for the first time. Fred had provided her with her first Firewhisky during a roaring party in the Gryffindor common room her fourth year and then held back her hair later that very same night when the few glasses of alcohol she'd had promptly came back up.
Fred had always been a comforting entity throughout her toughest moments at Hogwarts. When she had experienced fall outs with Harry and Ron, he always stuck up for her. When she'd been petrified her second year it was to Fred's hazel eyes that she awoke to, her best friend holding her hand as the restorative mandrake draught revived her from her petrified state. It was Fred who found her with a twisted ankle at the Quidditch World Cup, after she'd been separated from Harry and Ron, it was Fred who had repeatedly healed her wounds after she'd had to use Umbridge's blood quill during many nights of detention her fifth year.
Throughout their time as friends he'd continuously gifted her iris flowers, each representing a different meaning for a milestone or moment in her life since he'd first gifted her that yellow iris for friendship.
When her Granny Iris and Grandpa John had died within a week of each other during her third year at Hogwarts, after they'd both contracted the muggle flu, Fred had presented her with a white iris to convey his sympathy and held her while she'd cried uncontrollably, offering her much needed comfort from his strong embrace.
He'd given her irises to convey luck when she sat her OWL's, irises for protection and healing each and every time Harry and Ron got her tied up with some mystery, usually involving Voldemort that inevitably led to her ending up in the schools hospital wing where he'd take up a vigil at her bedside until Madam Pomfrey kicked him out, only for him to return in the dead of night and ensure that she was alright.
In the five years she'd known Fred, he'd given her countless irises, each one unique and special with sweet handwritten messages that she kept in an unbreakable jar in her trunk while the flowers themselves were pressed in a new journal, one that represented the evolution of their relationship throughout the years, one that showed how kind and thoughtful her best friend was. Her original journal, the one that showed the love her grandparents shared she kept safe under layers of protective enchantments, it was her hope that one day, the journal of her and Fred's relationship would be just as full as theirs had been.
Over the years she'd often thought that she and Fred could be more than friends, it was a fact that they were closer than most best friends, but not in the way that she was close to Harry and Ron who she saw as siblings, no she saw Fred as someone special, someone strong and kind, someone attractive, someone she knew she already loved. At times she thought he felt the same way.
Over the years he'd become jealous of other boys, like Victor when he'd taken her to the Yule Ball, but not once had he acted on the feelings, she was pretty certain they both shared for each other. It was incredibly frustrating, and she'd finally decided to take matters into her own hands, she just hoped that her hunch was right or else their relationship might become increasingly awkward.
It was the summer holidays and Diagon Alley was hot as Hermione walked with purpose from the Leaky Cauldron towards the brightly lit storefront of the Weasley Twins new store Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. She was dressed in a white summer dress, her long curls wild and untamed. She cast her eyes carefully around the alley knowing it wasn't exactly safe to be here alone. Voldemort was back and now that the whole of the Wizarding World knew it, the Death Eaters had been on a spree of terror all summer, causing death, destruction, and fear. Hermione hadn't told her parents about this, and she was already developing a plan to keep them safe from the inevitable war that was brewing but for now there was nothing she could do, not until the trace was removed from her.
She hurried down the cobbled street, ignoring peddlers trying to offer protective amulets, she was certain they wouldn't work against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.
She headed towards the vibrant store front, a surge of pride swelling in her chest, Fred and George had created this during a time when businesses in the alley weren't doing so well, she'd passed a number of them that had closed down, their windows and doors boarded up yet there was a steady stream of traffic entering and exiting the new store, she grinned excitedly as she joined the line outside, happy to finally be seeing her best friend again.
She entered the store, taking in the vibrancy with great enthusiasm, it had been Fred and George's dream to run a joke shop and they'd made it come true, set up a booming business for themselves just as they'd always wanted to.
The twins' stock was flying off the towering shelves and drawing in a wide range of clientele from children to even elderly wix who all seemed to be looking for a laugh in these dark times.
"Hermione what are you doing here," Fred's familiar voice called, and she felt him embrace her from behind, his familiar scent of cinnamon, gunpowder and mischief overpowering her senses as she melted into him.
"Surprise," she whispered, turning in his arms to look up at his hazel eyes, she wrapped her own arms around him and held him tightly.
"We were meant to be collecting you next week to bring you to headquarters," he whispered, casting his eyes around carefully to ensure nobody was listening.
"You still are, I just wanted to see your store, to spend the day with you," she told him honestly.
"It's dangerous to come into Diagon alone," he told her quietly as he looked down at her, Fred was at least a head taller than her with broad shoulders, she felt safe in his embrace.
"I know," she nodded, she'd taken a risk coming here, everyone knew she was Harry Potter's Muggleborn friend, anyone could have tried to harm her during her short journey, but she reasoned that the same was true for her home.
Remus had put a few protective enchantments on her childhood home, but it was basic enchantments, and she didn't have Order Members watching over her the way Harry did. If someone from the other side, a Death Eater or dark creature came looking for her, she'd do her best to defend herself and her family as she had in the Department of Mysteries, but she knew realistically that she'd most likely be outnumbered and have little chance if they did come calling for her.
"I'll take you home afterwards," he said, she didn't protest, she knew it would be safer, she nodded in agreement and Fred grinned, "welcome to Weasley's Wizards Wheezes," he told her excitedly, spreading his arms wide, a look of pride upon his face.
"It looks amazing," she grinned herself and let him lead her on a tour of his magnificent store.
It was evening now, just after six, Fred and George having closed the store only moments ago. George had said goodnight to them and headed out to meet Angelina for a date, leaving her and Fred alone in the store. Hermione had been impressed by the joke shop and had helped out, ringing up orders after Fred had taught her to use the till. The twins had done well for themselves in the brief time since they'd fled Hogwarts on their brooms having caused complete and utter mayhem and destruction to Umbridge and her reign of terror within the school.
"Do you want some dinner before I take you home," he asked quietly with an almost shy quality to his voice that came across as cute to Hermione.
"I'd like that," she nodded, and he took her upstairs to his flat for the first time. She half expected it to be as colourful and chaotic as the store below but was pleasantly surprised to find it to be warm and cosy like the Burrow or the Gryffindor common room. There were rich shades of brown, red, cream and orange throughout the room and she instantly felt comfortable here.
"Cosy," she commented, Fred grinned.
"We think so, make yourself at home," he told her as he made his way into the small kitchenette on the far side of the open plan living and dining room, Hermione did so, slipping off the wedged sandals she was wearing, sighing in relief to be back on flat feet.
She wriggled her now freed toes that were each painted the same pastel pink as her fingernails and moved around the living portion of the room to the large fireplace that dominated the right side of the room. The fireplaces wooden mantle was covered in framed photographs and more than a few of them had her in them and she smiled fondly at the images, remembering the simple times from their youth.
"Is mum's lasagne alright for dinner, I haven't quite mastered her level of cooking and neither has George, so she's sent us a stockpile of food that we can heat up," he called from the kitchenette, Hermione chuckled.
"Of course, it's one of my favourite meals," she called in reply, picking up one of the photographs that showed her on Fred's back during her fourth year, they were both laughing and out in the snow. It had been taken before the Yule Ball, there had been a massive snowball fight on the schools' grounds.
"That's one of my favourite photographs," Fred told her, coming up behind her, he had two glasses of iridescent fairy wine in his hands, and she took the one that he offered to her as she placed the photograph back on the mantle.
"Mine too," she told him, she had a copy of it herself back home in her bedroom, she took a quick sip of the wine thankful for the liquid courage.
"Food shouldn't be too long, I just need to heat it up and make a salad," he said turning away from her.
"Wait Fred," she spoke, grabbing his arm with her free hand, Fred paused and turned back to her.
"Are you alright," he questioned, she nodded and placed her wineglass down on the mantle before rummaging in her bag for the reason she'd come to him today, it didn't take long to find the flower, she'd created and magically preserved it months ago, and had been waiting for the right time to give it to him. She pulled it out of her bag and Fred's hazel eyes went wide as he took in the iris she now held, it was a deep dark shade of pink, a colour he had never given her before, but one she hoped he'd accept.
This particular shade of pink was so dark it could be confused as been red, but irises were never red, they came in all of the colours of the rainbow and even black but never red. Just as one might give a red rose to someone they were attracted to; this particular iris conveyed the same kind of message in the Victorian Language of Flowers. Hermione had done her research and by presenting him with this coloured iris she was conveying deep friendship, affection, and appreciation with the hope that they could be something more, that they could be together romantically.
"Fred I'm in love with you, and I think you feel the same way about me," she told him confidently, using all of her Gryffindor bravery, as she held out the flower to him. Fred's eyes were locked onto hers, still widened with shock, but a slow smile was spreading across his face and what looked to be joy was in his hazel gaze.
"I do love, I have been in love with you for years Hermione," he nodded taking a step towards her, she did the same unconsciously drawn towards him by his own admittance of a mutual affection. Fred took the flower from her and set it down on the mantle, along with his own wineglass and then his arms were around her and his lips were drawing her into her first kiss, it was enthusiastic, passionate and slow but also magical, she wished they'd been doing it for years. He lifted her into his arms, and carried her the short distance to the sofa, continuing to kiss her as he sat with her straddled in his lap.
They'd spent what remained of the summer holidays enjoying their new relationship. The two of them had spent a lot of time sneaking around Headquarters like the teenagers they were rather than worrying about the war raging in the real world. They'd been caught snogging in more than one broom closet by various Weasley's and Order members and Hermione had blushed to her roots each time, as Fred chuckled and held her to his chest.
Fred had kissed her on the train platform before sending her off for her Sixth Year at Hogwarts, she'd been sad to say goodbye to him but knew it wouldn't be long before she saw him again. Both Fred and George had joined the Order and would be up at the castle taking shifts like the other Order members to keep Hogwarts safe.
Sixth year consisted of clandestine meetings, while Fred was on duty in the castle or else having dates in Hogsmeade, though Hogsmede trips soon got cancelled so they resorted to secretive kisses behind tapestries and in hidden alcoves on the few occasions that Fred was on duty within the castle. They never went further than this and it frustrates Hermione terribly each time Fred leaves, her boyfriend promising that they'll have sex soon, he respected her too much to let her first time be a quickie where anyone could discover them and she appreciates this though she has to resort to using her own fingers late at night while her roommates sleep, bringing herself to orgasm with erotic imaginings of her and Fred exploring each other's bodies.
They send messages constantly though when they aren't together, Fred having created a two-way journal for them to write within. This connection keeps her grounded, Hogwarts wasn't the same without the twins there causing mayhem but at least she didn't have to wait for owls to travel between Scotland and London. Often, she could be found writing out long messages to her boyfriend or reading his replies, her and Fred sent them at all hours of the day and night.
The breach on Hogwarts and Dumbledore's death at the end of the year comes as a shock, nobody expected that the war would come to their hallowed halls, nobody expected that the war would have begun in full, the catalyst been the esteemed headmaster's death. It brings it home to Hermione, who knows that nobody is safe now especially her muggle parents, she knows it's time to put her plan to protect them into place before it's too late.
Dumbledore's funeral brings about the end of term and Hermione doesn't have the heart to prolong her own suffering, she doesn't even take the Hogwarts Express home, instead she apparates, her stomach feeling like its lined with led. She could pretend that everything was all right, play at having a normal summer but she doesn't, she knows that her parents will be safer the quicker they are out of the country, the quicker that they no longer know who she is.
Hermione silently let herself into her childhood home, for what may very well be the last time ever. If all goes well, she'll find her parents and bring them home but realistically she knows that she might die in the coming months, that she might never see her parents again.
It's a Saturday today, her parents are in the kitchen when she enters, and both look up at her shocked.
"Pumpkin what are you doing here dear, we aren't meant to be collecting you until next week," her mother says, they both approach her and wrap her in a tight hug, her father kissing her temple, Hermione closes her eyes, trying in vain to hold back her tears.
"I missed you, exams are over, so I came home early," she tells them quietly, never wanting to let them go.
"We missed you too love," her dad tells her, Hermione clings to them both tightly for what might be the last time, though she hopes that it won't be and that they can share a thousand more hugs in the future.
"We were just about to sit down for lunch, join us sweetheart," her mother says.
"I'll just wash my hands first," she tells them, she approaches the sink, and turns on the tap, listening to her parents as they take their seats. She knows without looking that both of them have sat in their usual places, with their backs to the sink, she washes her hands and gathers her nerves, turning to look at them.
Her dad is filling a new glass with juice while her mother is putting some food on a plate for her to eat. Neither is looking at her which makes this easier, she didn't think she could do this if she were looking into their eyes. She raises her wand with a shaky hand, taking a calming breath. Hermione then fires off two stunners, one at each of her parents. She takes a steadying breath, wiping away tears with the hand not holding her wand.
"Obliviate," she breathes, pointing her wand at her dad, before doing the same with her mum. Then as though on autopilot she makes her way around her childhood home removing all evidence that she had ever lived there, she erases herself from photographs and changes her bedroom into an office. She removes evidence of the Grangers in general too and replaces all of her parents' documents with new ones.
From this moment on her beloved parents will believe themselves to be the Wilkins, a couple who had never been lucky enough to have a child but were passionate about dentistry and had a strong urge to relocate to Australia. Hopefully, this would be enough to keep the pair of them safe and alive. She'd rather that they be safe with no knowledge of her than to potentially remember her and be in constant danger.
After every last shred of her existence is gone, she places a pair of one-way plane tickets in front of her parents on the kitchen table and she kisses their foreheads a final time before leaving the house silently, her beaded bag holding all evidence of their family's existence. She lifts the stunner from outside and watches as her parents begin eating their lunch, her dad's voice carrying as he tells her mother how excited he is for their relocation to the other side of the world. Hermione spins on the spot and apparates away, landing in a sobbing mess in the living room of her boyfriend's flat.
"Hermione," a voice spoke worriedly, it was so similar to Fred's, and she cried harder. George gathered her in his arms, and she heard Angelina speak, telling them that she'd get Fred. George made soothing sounds, stroking her back for a few moments before her boyfriend arrived, his scent enveloping her soothingly as he took her from George, lifting her into his arms.
"I obliviated my parents," she sobbed brokenly, Fred just held her tighter and carried her to his bedroom where he held her until her sobs ceased and she eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
Hermione stayed with the twins for a week, Fred supporting her and comforting her as she came to terms with what she had done to her parents. She knew she'd made the right decision, that they'd be safe because of it, but it still hurt to know that she might not see them again.
She was sat on Fred's bed watching him sleep peacefully beside her. He was always so sweet and caring, always putting her first no matter the situation. She loved him so much. She smiled at him when his eyes fluttered open.
"Morning love," she breathed leaning in to kiss him, Fred returned the kiss hesitantly, since she'd arrived on Saturday, he'd been reluctant to be intimate, not wanting her to do something she'd regret while she was so upset.
"Morning," he grinned.
"Fred, I love you," she told him.
"I love you too love," he grinned, she kissed him again, heatedly, her hands tangled in his long hair.
"Please show me how much you love me," she asked him, she was knelt above him as she said this and pulled the vest top, she was wearing off quickly, revealing her braless breasts to him.
"Hermione," he began to protest but she shook her head.
"Fred, we love each other, I want you fully, I need you, please," she pleaded and Fred groaned.
"Are you sure," he asked, she nodded.
"I've never been surer of anything in my life," she told him honestly, that was what Fred needed to hear, there was no hesitance as he took hold of her and kissed her heatedly, his kisses trailing from her lips to her throat, he nibbled, and he licked, he sucked, paying attention to spots that made her moan. He lowered her onto the mattress and kissed his way down her body, paying great attention to her breasts, and stomach as well as her inner thighs. He removed the shorts she was wearing, and her lacy pink knickers were stripped too, leaving her naked below him on the bed, Fred too stripped his clothes and took a position between her parted thighs.
"Your gorgeous love," he told her with heated eyes from his position between her spread legs, she groaned, and he brought his mouth to her slick core, licking and sucking at her folds and clitoris, she clung to his hair, grinding herself against his face.
"Please," she moaned, Fred inserted one of his long fingers into her and she groaned.
"Merlin lovely you're so tight," he hissed, against her clit as he moved his finger within her, his mouth returning to suck on her clit.
"Oh," she whimpered, she was so close to coming.
"So wet for me," he groaned, "You taste delicious, my very own ambrosia," he breathed as he added a second finger within her cunt, Hermione tugged at his hair, her back arching as she clamped down upon his digits, an animalistic sound escaping her as she came, Fred continuing to lap up every drop of her come, his tongue paying special attention to her engorged clitoris.
"Good girl," he praised, "I love you," she preened at his words.
"Please Fred, I need you," she begged, rising her hips needily towards him, loving the feel of his fingers still within her but wanting more. Fred removed his fingers from within her tight heat and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean before he kissed his way up her body and allowed her to taste herself on his lips, she moaned trying to use her legs to bring him closer to her core, needing his cock to be within her, the same way her lungs needed the oxygen she breathed.
"Are you sure my love," he asked, she nodded, her heated eyes fixed on his own, she wanted this, wanted Fred to take her virginity. Fred once more ran his hand through her folds and thrust his fingers within her, once, twice, three times before withdrawing them again. This causing her to whimper from the loss of his touch. With hooded eyes she watched as he brought his hand to his erection and fisted it, pumping himself three times, spreading her wetness onto his large shaft.
"Love, it might hurt the first time, but I'll try to ensure it doesn't," he told her tenderly, leaning into kiss her once more as he lined himself up with her, his thick head brushing against her clitoris before pressing against her tight virgin hole. It felt so large, and she groaned, fixing her dark eyes on his lighter pair.
"I trust you Freddie," she told him, moments before his lips claimed hers and his cock entered her for the first time, slowly pushing into her, creating a fullness unlike anything she had felt before, she whimpered into his mouth, her eyes watering slightly. Fred stilled allowing her to get used to the sensation and wiped the tears away from her eyelids before kissing each one in turn.
"Your beautiful love, so perfect," he groaned, she shifted her hips experimentally moaning as his cock brushed something within her, that had never been touched before.
"More, I want all of you," she breathed, Fred nodded and slowly pushed the rest of his cock into her, he was long and thick, and it was painful to take all of him, but she wanted all of him, wanted to feel him completely within her.
"Your wonderful," he breathed as he bottomed out within her, she whimpered and rolled her hips, Fred withdrew and slowly slid back into her, he did this a few times as she got used to the sensation and slowly, he built up speed, Hermione finding her own rhythm as she moved her hips with his, the pain giving way to pleasure. He kissed her as he thrust within her, his lips migrating from her mouth to her breasts that he lavished between whispered praises and complements.
It was everything she could hope for as they made love for the first time. Neither of them lasted exceptionally long, but they came together, Fred coming within her as she came around his cock, his fingers rubbing circles against her swollen clit. When he removed himself from her, his spend escaping thickly with her own release down her inner thighs, he rolled onto his back and pulled her to rest against his chest, both of them losing themselves to sleep as they cuddled in a state of post orgasm bliss.
Good things it seems must always end. Their bubble in Fred's bedroom lasted three days where they continued to explore each other sexually. Fred had given her more irises and told her that he burned with love for her, but they were at war and they each had a role to play within it.
The Order ran a mission to collect Harry and it was a disaster, they lost Mad-Eye Moody and more than one of them had been injured, the worst been George who lost his ear. Both twins made jokes about it, but she knew that both were gutted to no longer be identical.
Then shit hit the fan at Bill and Fleur's Wedding. One moment she'd been dancing in Fred's arms and the next they were fighting Death Eaters; the Ministry had fallen, and the Burrow was under attack. They'd shared a final kiss in the heat of the battle, and he'd pushed her towards Harry and Ron, her chocolate eyes meeting his hazel for but a moment as she apparated their small trio away, leaving Fred behind.
The months that followed the attack on the wedding were horrible, she had the journals and could write to Fred, but it wasn't safe to share information on what they were doing, or where they were. She spent hours rereading their messages and looking at the pressed flowers he had given her. She repeatedly listened to Potterwatch broadcasts desperate to hear Fred's voice, it was a comfort to her while they were on the run, cold and oftentimes starving. Fred was her rock, just hearing his voice gave her the strength to continue with the mission Dumbledore had left for her, Harry, and Ron to complete.
She never expected that the next time that the pair of them would be reunited would be after she'd been tortured at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most vindictive and psychotic follower. Hermione had survived ten rounds of the Crucio, a curse that had sent many a wix insane when cursed by Bellatrix's wand. She'd been beaten and carved up, her arm forever scarred with the designation Mudblood.
Despite the torture and the threat that she'd be given to Greyback as a sexual plaything for his pack she had not broken, not while at Malfoy Manor at least. She had cried, she had shouted, and she had screamed bloody murder, but she had not shared her mission, she had not revealed any information to the enemy. It was little relief however, her bones felt like stones grinding upon each other, her skin crawled, her nerves were fried, and she was emotionally and mentally exhausted, magically spent, drained and the areas of her body that had been carved burned something terrible.
She'd arrived at Shell Cottage sandwiched between Harry and Ron, barely conscious or able to hold her own weight, her muscles had been still contracting from the repeated use of the cruciatus in such a short period of time and blood ran freely from each of the eight letters on her left arm as well as from a slice above her collarbone. She had been covered in dirt, was missing chunks of hair and her lip had been split, she'd broken two ribs from been booted by a Snatcher and had a multitude of other minor cuts and injuries, she was sure she'd looked a state.
"Oh, mon chérie," Fleur had gasped upon seeing her, and Hermione had collapsed onto the white sandy beach, knowing it was okay to do so and that she'd be safe.
"She'd awoken a day later, bandaged up and mostly magically healed. Potions helped with her muscles and tremors and only the wounds from the cursed blade remained, covered in salves and bandages.
"Hello love," Fred had whispered as her eyes had fluttered open, they'd been in a small yet bright bedroom, he'd looked ragged and had bags under his eyes as he sat beside her, her small hand clutched in his much larger one.
"I didn't break," she'd told him with a croaky voice, her eye beginning to water. Fred had settled himself onto the side of the bed and pulled her into his arms, holding her against his broad chest and she'd let herself break, sobbing brokenly in the arms of the man she loved.
It wasn't until hours later that she'd noticed the vase of colourful irises beside her bed, over a dozen of them, each a different vibrant colour.
"I missed you love," Fred told her when he caught her looking at the vase, "each represents a different moment when I thought of you while we weren't together, though not all of them, you were always on my mind love" he'd said, his beautiful eyes on hers, Hermione had lent foreword and kissed him tenderly and fallen asleep in his eyes.
"Beautiful flowers, in France, we call them the Fleur-de-lys, in English it translates to flower of the Lily though in England you call them irises. Having a vase of them in a room is said to cleanse energy, something we all probably need in these dark times," Fleur had commented when she'd come into the room to change her bandages and give her medicinal potions, "Weasley men are thoughtful no," the beautiful blonde had asked, Hermione had nodded, smiling at the man who was still sleeping beside her.
"They're the best," she'd responded quietly before settling down to go back to sleep as Fleur exited the bedroom, she was thankful to have Fred there with her, she always felt safe when he was near.
They'd spent a few weeks within Shell Cottage while Hermione had recovered enough to continue traveling and hunting down Horcruxes. During the days she'd made plans with Harry and Ron to break into Gringotts while at night-time she spent her time in Fred's arms sharing heated kisses and tentative touches. Fred hadn't wanted to spook or rush her after what had happened to her, and it took him two weeks to make love to her again, an event that was emotional for both of them. Hermione had cried and clung to him in the wake of their coupling, while Fred rubbed soothing circles against her back and spoke of his devotion of her. They'd then spent every evening of the following week shagging into the wee hours of the morning.
After a night of passionate sex, while Fred slept, Hermione slipped out of bed and dressed, kissing his brow silently before slipping out of the bedroom that had become theirs. She'd crept downstairs, meeting Harry Ron and Griphook on the sandy beach outside and apparated away to continue her mission, not knowing that everything would come to an end in a matter of days.
If Hermione had looked up before apparating away she'd have seen Fred stood in a darkened window, an iris she had left on his chest, clutched in his hand, she'd left it with him as a form of protection.
They broke into Gringotts and successfully stole Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, but it had all gone tits up and they'd had to escape on a dragon, a feat that had destroyed a substantial portion of the Goblin run bank and clued in Voldemort of what they were up too.
After that everything happened so fast and they were arriving at Hogwarts, evacuating underaged students and calling in reinforcements for what would be the last battle between good and evil.
Fred had arrived in the Room of Requirement alongside Ginny and George, they'd shared a kiss, declarations of love and promises to be safe before going their separate ways.
Of course things don't always go the way one wants them too, the Room of Requirement was engulfed in Fiendfyre and after narrowly escaping the enchanted flames Hermione had rounded a corner to the sight of Fred and Percy duelling Death Eaters, both of them smiling and making jokes when the entire hallway exploded throwing everyone in different directions as large chunks of ancient stone rained down around them.
"FRED," she screamed, scrambling to her feet, dust was heavy in the air, constricting her vision of what remained of the corridor and the area where he had been stood moments before.
There was no response and she stumbled over stone, beams, and debris to find him. In the background she could hear Harry and Ron doing the same, they were calling both his and Percy's name. It had only been seconds since she had seen him alive and well but each moment without a response, without proof of life increased her panic and worry for him, she began to cry, desperately calling his name.
There was a cough at the other end of the hallway and Percy shouted that he was okay, but his leg was trapped but still Fred did not respond. The dust was beginning to settle. The two Death Eaters were either under the rubble or had fled after the explosion. Harry and Ron made their way to Percy and Hermione fell to her knees beside a pile of stone where Fred had been. She was sobbing uncontrollably and using her hands to claw away the heavy rocks that covered his body.
"F-F-Fred," she cried, her body cold and numb. A horrible clicking sound came from a hole in the external wall of the corridor and large hairy legs began making their way into the school. Hermione paid them no mind; she was vaguely aware of Harry blasting away the Acromantula and of both Ron and a now freed Percy joining her in her quest to find Freds body.
"We need to keep moving, he's gone," Harry spoke, as he shot a curse at another giant spider that was trying to gain entrance to the corridor.
"No," she shook her head, Fred could not be dead, she refused to believe it. He was trapped under a mountain of stone, but he couldn't be dead. She could not live in a world without Fred. He was her first friend, the love of her life. Ron and Percy were using their wands now, moving away rubble far quicker than was possible with bare hands.
"NOOO," she sobbed as Fred was revealed, his body battered, bloody and dirty, his eyes open and a smile still etched on his handsome face.
"Hermione, I am sorry, but if we don't get out of this corridor, we will all die," Harry spoke, as he continued to cast spells at the spiders that were trying to gain access to the school.
"No, I can't leave him, I love him," she sobbed, collapsing onto his chest. He was wearing the iris she had given him the morning she had snuck away from Shell Cottage, the dark blue flower she had left with him for protection and as a representation of the faith and hope she had for their future together.
"He's gone Mione," Ron cried, wrapping his arms around her, trying to pry her from his brother's dead body.
"No, the iris was meant to protect him, to keep him safe, he can't be," she sobbed.
As she cried a single tear fell from her eye and landed on the flower that was pinned to his shirt, in the same moment a rainbow formed over them in the corridor. It was bright, vibrant, and impossible for there was no sunshine or rain to create the spectrum of colours that arched over them, yet it was there above them, the fallen redhead, and his heartbroken lover.
"What the," Ron muttered from behind her, letting go of her shoulder, Percy had joined Harry in fighting the eight-legged beasts, but Hermione paid them no mind.
A long time ago Hermione had read a passage in a book when researching irises. She'd been young, it had been long before Hogwarts when Granny Iris and Grandpa John had still been alive.
The book she'd read had mentioned Greek mythology and Iris the messenger God who had communicated between Heaven and Earth via Rainbows that were each a passage between the two worlds. The iris flower and all its various meanings stemmed from this ancient myth. The Greek word Eiris meant messenger and iris meant to communicate.
Hermione looked up at the improbable rainbow above them and then looked down in to the still face of her lover, her tears running freely down her face and for the first time since the explosion she felt hopeful.
"Please Iris bring him back, please let Fred live," she pleaded, casting her eyes back to the dazzling rainbow above before leaning down and kissing Fred's warm lips, "Please," she whispered against his mouth, her mind, body and soul filled with the love she had for him, her best friend and lover.
She sat back on her heels and waited, silently pleading for the Greek Goddess to grant her wish and give Fred back to her. The rainbow slowly faded out of existence and Hermione's tears grew heavier as Fred let out a gasp of pain, his body now glowing in a golden light.
"You're going to be okay Freddie," she cried, reaching into her beaded bag for medicinal potions to help stabilise him.
"What the fuck," Ron exclaimed, Hermione ignored him, focusing on Fred who was now alive but in need of help.
The iris played a role throughout the many stages of their relationship both before the Final Battle at Hogwarts and in the many decades to come. Fred and Hermione continued the tradition started by Hermione's grandparents of finding rare irises to give to one another throughout the course of their time together.
Had Fred not seen Hermione's journal that night she'd fallen asleep in the Gryffindor Common Room her first year at Hogwarts, then perhaps everything might have played out differently, luckily though that was not the case and as such Fred, and Hermione went on to have a wonderful long and happy life together.
Hermione returned to Hogwarts after the Final Battle and completed her NEWT's. She then worked her way up through the levels of the Ministry of Magic and eventually became the Minister of Magic for Great Brittan, a position that Fred fully supported and was proud that she had achieved.
Fred and George took their joke shop international with branches of Weasley's Wizard Wheezers in every wizarding city district by the time the pair of them were ready to retire and pass on their legacy to the next generation.
Fred and Hermione continued to gift irises to one another over the course of their lifetime, the best gift of all been when Fred proposed to Hermione in their very own cottage garden. His gift to Hermione was every single one of her grandparents' irises that he'd had transported and replanted just for her.
Hermione's wedding bouquet was filled with colourful irises, and she held them proudly as her father walked her down the aisle to the man that she adored. Fred had travelled to Australia with her in the wake of the war and helped her to track down her parents and restore their memories.
The pair of them named their eldest child Iris after her great grandmother, the beautiful flowers and the goddess who had granted Fred a second chance at life. Iris was the perfect combination of her parents with vibrant red curls and hazel eyes, she was smart and outgoing, and you never knew if she'd be found mid prank or reading a book. They then had twins Rose and Georgina who took after Fred in both personality and looks with the exception of their chocolate-coloured eyes. Their fourth child they named Hugo, and he was his mother's son, with brown curls, chocolate eyes and studious nature, though he did inherit the Weasley freckles.
Both Fred and Hermione lived a long life together cherishing the time that the goddess Iris had granted them to be with one another. They created a family that was filled with love and laughter and proudly watched on as their children grew up and had families of their own.
When they eventually died, they did so together, surrounded by generations of their descendants the youngest of which was a newborn baby; their great-great granddaughter Iris who was the fifth person to hold the name that meant so much to their family. They died in each other's arms peacefully with smiles upon their faces, a rainbow forming over them in the same way one had during the Final Battle. The Goddess Iris had granted them a second chance together and it was through her rainbow that they travelled to Heaven on their next adventure.
The tale of their love and the significance of the Iris would be passed down through the generations of their family and in each generation at least one Weasley daughter would take on the name that had originated with Iris Granger. Their journals, filled with flowers, and handwritten messages were likewise passed down, cherished by all those who came after them.
It became a tradition for the family to call their daughters Iris and to visit the graves of Hermione and Fred Weasley. They were buried amongst thousands of irises in what had once been their cottages garden.
Ancient Egyptians had once believed that the iris was a symbol of protection and power, Pharaohs were buried with them to protect them in the afterlife. If this was true then, Hermione and Fred were undoubtedly safe on their next adventure and looking down upon their legacy proudly, their spirits protected by the irises that they had cherished throughout their lifetime.
Notes:
Thank you for taking the time to read my contribution to the fest, I hope you enjoyed reading it.