Chapter 55
April 1, 2002
George (and Fred)'s Birthday
Hermione was washing the dishes the Muggle way in nothing but a thin silk robe, her hair tied up in a loose hair tie. The boys were still sleeping, Theo's head on Draco's chest. She had planned to teach them some yoga later today.
They needed some exercise. And their stamina still wasn't back but yoga allowed for a lot of room for improvement. It wasn't about doing everything perfectly right away, it was about the journey. She hoped Draco especially wouldn't get too frustrated with his body's weakness and refuse to try. And then there was Theo's breathing problem, but she hoped that yoga would help him strengthen his lungs.
The floo alarm went off and Hermione nearly smashed a dish as she whirled about, grabbing her wand from the counter. Before her, Neville Longbottom stood in his work clothes, flannel shirt, khakis, his hair pulled back in a tie. The only thing he was missing was his apron that he must have left behind in the flower shop.
"Fucking hell, Nev you scared the shite out of me." Hermione put a hand against her chest trying to cover the organ so that it didn't beat all the way out of her chest cavity.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, the adrenaline was still pumping hard through her system.
"Did you entirely forget the date?" Neville inquired. "Not looking at the calendar lately now that you've got two hot wizards in your bed?" He teased.
Hermione stared at him in confusion, "What?"
"It's Fred and George's Birthday." Neville said slowly as though he was concerned about her, an eyebrow raising. "You meet George at the cemetery every year in about forty minutes and then you have brunch at the Burrow, which I tragically have to miss to watch the boys upstairs."
Hermione squeaked in alarm. "I have to get ready."
After flying up the stairs, she rushed through her preparations, but it still took more than a half an hour because she could not find the special flask that she'd prepared for today. It ended up being in a basket underneath a package of Muggle sanitary napkins. She'd almost hidden it too well.
On her way out the door, Neville called out, "Don't forget not to eat any of Molly's cooking. Last thing we need at this juncture is you getting compromised."
"I'd rather starve," Hermione replied. "I have snacks in my purse if I get peckish. But thank you for getting me on track today, you're an angel. Now take good care of my boys." She felt bad that she didn't say goodbye to Draco and Theo but knew they were in good hands. She apparated from her porch and popped back into existence outside the gate to the largest Magical cemetery in Britain. The Weasleys didn't have a family cemetery like so many Purebloods did, so they were buried here, sprinkled amongst the Half-bloods, Muggleborns and the occasional squib.
The cemetery was quiet. She hoped she hadn't missed George. Meeting up here before lunch at the Burrow was their tradition after all. A head of red hair moved just ahead of her, and her anxiety decreased. He'd waited for her.
"Hey there Granger," George said from where he sat, behind a headstone in the row in front of her, facing Fred's headstone. "I thought you'd forgotten me."
"Never," She reassured, carefully shimmying between the stones and plunking herself down next to him on the cold earth. "Just had to wait for Neville to come babysit my parolees."
She stared at Fred's headstone across from them.
Fred Weasley
1 April 1978 – 2 May 1998
Beloved Son and Brother
And small where she and George had carved on the first anniversary read:
Only the good die young. (Hermione's contribution)
He never met a prank he didn't like. Inventor of the Portable Bog amongst other wonders.
"And how are Malfoy and Nott?" George asked, his arms wrapped around his knees. "Still as prattish as ever?" He turned to look at her. The dark smudges under his eyes and unshaved cheeks were a distinct sign of how poorly he was doing. His grey herringbone suit was so wrinkled it looked as though he had slept in it. He probably had.
She laughed hollowly and passed him a flask she'd tucked in her breast pocket, another one of their traditions. "Hardly. I think if they'd waited another week, they'd need an undertaker, not a parole supervisor."
"That's fucked." George said, taking the flask and toasting her with it. "Slainte."
"Spending a lot of time with Seamus are you?" Hermione asked curiously.
"A fair bit," George admitted. Hermione knew that Seamus' drinking was often an issue between him and Dean, but it hadn't yet resulted in a split though it had led to them putting off starting a family. Everyone was handling the aftermath of the war in different ways. Seamus' liked to put a layer of fog between himself and the memories. Hermione could see how that would be tempting to George as well.
"How's Angelina taking that?" Hermione asked, taking the flask back.
"Well she hasn't left me yet." He leaned his head back against the stone, staring up at the grey English sky. "But is it because she loves me or because I look like Fred?"
"Oh come on now, you know he was prettier. I always had a crush."
"You're a terrible liar. You never did." George laughed, snagging the flask out of her hand and taking a gulp.
She laughed and stole the flask back, taking a deep drag of the fire whiskey laced with a strong antidote to any loyalty potions. It was in George's best interests. He rarely went to the Burrow anymore except for today, it was a small thing that she could do for him. A little Birthday gift.
"Maybe not, the only redhead I ever fancied was Ginny," Hermione giggled.
"Fucking liar. Aw shit but you were there the night she broke it off with Harry." George bumped her shoulder with his and grinned. "He says he doesn't remember, probably got black out drunk afterwards the poor bastard. But I heard that she was in the middle of taking a ride on Pucey when you two walked in." George laughed so hard he snorted.
"Who'd you hear that one from?" Hermione asked, interested in who was spreading the story about.
"Ginny, of course." George grinned.
"Your sister is so bloody crass." Hermione shook her head.
"Well I had to ply her with a few fire whiskies to get that detail from her, but she seems happier, you know. I know mum's in a dither because she wanted Harry for a son-in-law, but it's for the best. And Pucey looks at her like the sun rises and sets behind her eyes. So I invited them today," He added, looking over at her as if to gauge her reaction.
"Trying for fireworks?" Hermione smirked.
"Maybe. At least then it won't be boring. Fred would have approved. And it's our birthday. If Harry and Ronnie don't like it, they can get fucked."
"Well I won't raise any complaints. Pucey saved my arse in the field plenty," Hermione acknowledged. "But pardon me if I don't say that in front of your mum or Harry."
"I respect your ability to stay neutral," George said. "Although don't be surprised if I laugh my arse off."
Hermione nodded before standing and pouring a shot next to the white lilies that George must have brought.
"Are you ready to go show your face at the inevitable disaster of your birthday party?" Hermione asked, offering her hand to help George up from the ground.
He gripped her wrist and hauled himself to his feet.
"When has it ever not been a disaster?" George asked. Hermione didn't answer, well aware that the question was rhetorical.
Hermione didn't make George go home and shave although she was tempted to do so. Instead she took him by the arm, tucking the half full flask into his jacket pocket. She cast a wandless nonverbal freshening charm on his suit, and a beauty charm on his hair, putting it a bit to rights. The last thing George needed today was Molly nagging him about his appearance. Everything was hard enough as it is.
"I'll apparate us, shall I?" Hermione asked, although she didn't even wait for his assent before throwing them through space and time.
They popped back into existence just outside of the Burrow's back garden.
"Warn a wizard will you?" George groused. "Could have been splinched, yeah?"
"Please," Hermione released his arm with a laugh. "The only person I've ever splinched is Ronald."
George leaned in to whisper, "And you and I both know that he probably deserved it."
"George!" Hermione smiled and laughed and whacked him on the arm.
"Come on, let's go see if we've missed any of the chaos."
George snuck into the house dramatically, causing Hermione to shake her
They hadn't yet as only the card from Charlie had arrived, filled with apologising for not making it, was on the table. He hadn't come back to England since the war. Hermione frowned as she read the note over George's shoulder. She had a few bones to pick with the dragon tamer and if he didn't come to England soon, she was going to have to send a messenger to Romania.
George dropped the note to the table, and pulled the euros out of the envelope and tucked them in his pocket. Hermione suspected she'd have to send Neville around to the Muggle pubs near Diagon next week to look for George. She sighed.
The chaos of Bill and Fleur's arrival with Victoire and Dominique actually got Molly to emerge from the kitchen.
"Oh George, happy birthday, when did you get here?" Molly asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Just arrived, mum," George said, giving his mother a quick hug. "Hermione and me came together."
"Oh Hermione, I've been wanting to speak to you, can you join me in the kitchen for a minute?"
"Certainly Molly, no problem." Hermione tried to keep from laughing at the face that George made in her direction as he spoke to Bill. She gave him a two fingered salute as she went into the kitchen and his guffaws followed her.
The Weasley matron wasted no time. "Hermione, I need you to reason with that daughter of mine," Molly began and Hermione crossed her arms, already sure where this was going. "She needs to beg Harry to take her back. This little display of rebellion is just cold feet."
"Molly, Harry and I walked in on her in flagrante. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to take her back, even if she grovels."
"Harry will. I'm certain of it." Molly turned back to her cooking, adding some herbs. "When you get to be my age you know these things."
Hermione shuddered, wondering what Molly was dosing him with these days.
"I'll talk to her, but I don't think it will do any good. She's moved in with Adrian. I think they are pretty serious already." Hermione tried to keep her tone bland, but her lip involuntarily curled upwards.
"It's just rebellious nonsense. Ginny and Harry are meant to be! Soulmates!" Molly waved her spoon in the air as though to punctuate her words.
The woman was completely delusional, Hermione thought. She wondered if she'd maintain the same tune once she learned that Adrian's family's net worth rivalled the Potters'. Although assuredly Harry's prestige played into Molly's desire for Ginny to be a Potter as well.
"I promise I'll talk with her, Molly," Hermione hedged. "Shall I take some appetisers out to the table?"
"Oh thank you dear." Molly smiled at her.
Hermione grabbed a tray of tiny sandwiches and took them out to the table, where there were now a lot more Weasleys standing about.
Arthur was chatting with George about the shop and Bill was helping Fleur wrangle the children. Angelina had arrived and had her arm around George's waist. Percy stood awkwardly off to the side, not talking to anyone. Ron had just arrived with his new flavour of the week and was introducing her around. She was all of eight stone soaking wet and had blonde curls the size of Padma's bangles. Hermione hoped she didn't end up having to hold a tedious conversation with the tittering fan girl.
Still no sign of Harry, Hermione wondered if he would even remember to come to the Burrow today. Lee Jordan strolled in along with a couple of the other lads from the Gryffindor Quidditch team that Hermione hadn't seen since school, each shaking George's hand and joining the milling crowd.
Someone had brought Aunt Muriel, probably Percy, and she touched Hermione's arm and asked her, "Can you please find me a drink in this place?"
Hermione looked at the pots of tea on the table meaningfully.
"A real drink please girl, I'm going to need it." Muriel's face crinkled in distaste.
"No problem, Mrs. Prewett. I'll be right back."
Hermione knew where Arthur had a couple bottles of wine stored in one of the coat closets. She rooted around past the musty fur coats until she found a dust covered bottle of Bordeaux. Scourgifying the bottle and popping it open was the work of seconds, Hermione snagged a wine glass from the kitchen while Molly was busy in the pantry.
Placing the glass in front of Aunt Muriel, the elderly witch grabbed Hermione's wrist with a shaking hand. "You have much better posture these days, girl."
"Why thank you, Mrs. Prewett." Hermione smiled. That was possibly the nicest thing that the old woman had ever said to her.
After pouring a glass of wine for her, Hermione pretended to accidentally drop the cork. Ron was sitting on the opposite side of the table bragging loudly about the bonus he received for playing the Quidditch Finals. Clementine or Clemensia, whatever her name was, stared at him in awe. It was pathetic really.
Hermione fumbled around on the floor for a minute looking for the cork, before crawling just slightly under the table clothes and seizing her chance to wandlessly and nonverbally curse Ronald Weasley for all that she was worth.
Nequit Fertilitatis. The fertility curse would give him the thing he'd always wanted: a big family. Of course the children he wanted so badly would all be bastards, conceived any time he did anything with a witch regardless of whatever contraceptive potions or charms a witch or wizard used. It was a spell able to beggar a much richer man than Ronald Weasley. It was a little something she'd found in one of the books from the Grimmauld Place library. It had originally been designed for getting grandchildren out of reluctant heirs, but the unstoppable fertility was quickly determined to be more curse than charm.
And really there was no one more deserving of its use than Ronald, Hermione thought as she stood back up with the offending cork in her hand, sitting it next to the wine bottle.
And that was the moment that Ginny walked in, holding Adrian Pucey's hand like it wasn't an earth shattering change.
"What the hell are you doing bringing him here?" Ron demanded, his face twisted in a sneer.
"He's part of my life now Ronald, you better get used to it," Ginny stood her ground, "Don't even bother introducing me to whatever groupie is clinging to your boot this week."
"At least she's not a two-timing whore," Ron yelled, turning beet red. "You are an unredeemable tart and I'm ashamed to call you my sister."
"If you love Harry so much you marry him!" Ginny yelled back. "I was bloody miserable! I don't have to marry the person you pick for me Ronald! We aren't that flavour of Purebloods!"
"Ginevra Weasley! Stop screaming at your brother this instant!" Molly had flown to her son's side.
Ginny held up her left hand, a large diamond clustered by small rubies and onyx there. "It's Ginny Pucey, as of nine this morning. We got married at the Ministry."
Hermione's hand flew over her mouth to cover the grin that threatened. To everyone else she just looked shocked at the news. George, on the other hand cackled loudly earning him a caustic look from his mother and Ron.
"Oh welcome to the family lad," Arthur said, clearly trying to defuse the situation. Bill, who was nearest to Adrian, offered his hand and murmured congratulations, taking a page out of his father's book. A blush coloured Adrian's cheeks and Hermione caught his eyes and tried to give him a reassuring look. He gave her a tight smile in response, this was clearly an awkward way to meet his new in-laws.
Molly however was furious, "How could you marry someone you don't know so quickly! I didn't raise you to be a fast witch! And to not even let your family know! I have never felt so disrespected! How could you do this to me - I mean to Harry!?"
"Not everything is about Harry Potter, mother!" Ginny stepped back to take Adrian's hand. "I've known Adrian since school. And he's been an Auror for years on top of being Hermione's partner. There is not a bit of him that's unworthy to be my husband." Ginny brought his hand to her lips and kissed it, trying to reassure him.
"After everything this family has been through with him the least you could have done is to be with Harry!"
Molly's anger burned away her loving mother facade and she simply looked like the thwarted crone she was, Hermione thought.
"If you want someone to marry Harry so badly, have Ron or Percy do it! They are still single. I'm bloody well married now!" Ginny's eyes burned bright.
"Hey leave me out of this," Percy commanded coldly.
"I'm not a fucking fairy and I'm not going to marry Harry, are you mental!?" Ron shouted.
"Well I'm married now! And I'm not taking Harry on as a second husband, so your ship has sailed!" Ginny's hands went to fists at her sides. "And either you can be happy for me or you can not be a part of my life."
"Well I'm certainly not happy for you," Molly stated angrily, waving her hands in the air madly.
"Not me either," Ron added. "Bloody slapper. Good riddance to you."
"Well then, have a nice life without me in it!" Ginny's nostrils flared, and Hermione thought she was considering punching Ron for that last comment but instead Ginny stormed out, dragging Adrian behind her. Everyone who had been quiet during the argument burst into conversation. Molly started to cry and Arthur did his best to comfort her.
George looked positively gleeful at all the drama. Angelina had disconnected from his side and was talking in shocked whispers to Lee.
Hermione helped Muriel pour another glass of wine, and the crone murmured, "I don't think there is enough wine in all of France to be a member of this family." Hermione tried not to laugh, she really did, but a small smile emerged on her lips.
"And I think that's my cue to go," Hermione said in George's ear, so that he could hear her over Molly's wailing.
"But we haven't even had cake yet," George complained with a frown.
"I think you should probably shoo everyone off. Look at your mother." Hermione tilted her head towards Molly who was waving a cup towel in the air wildly as she sobbed.
"It's no more than she deserves for trying to meddle in Ginny's life," George said with certainty tinged in sadness. "Here give the birthday boy a hug before you go." Hermione let him wrap his arms around her briefly and the bond didn't complain so that was pleasant. George was only her friend and he didn't want anything more.
She patted him on the cheek as he released her. "Happy twenty-fourth birthday old man. And don't forget to drink the rest of your gift."
"Oh I would never," George laughed and turned to talk to Lee and Angelina, who was looking at Hermione solemnly.
Angelina's face was tired, "Hey Hermione can I have a word?"
"Of course Angelina, I was just on my way out, but do you want to walk me to the apparition point?" Hermione asked and Angelina nodded.
Hermione didn't even bother saying goodbye to Molly and Arthur. She waved at the people in the room, but hardly anyone noticed in the buzz of shocked conversation. She held the door for Angelina who walked out into the afternoon and stood there waiting for Hermione to close the door, before falling into step next to her.
"Is there something going on with you and George?" She asked without preamble.
"Me and George?" Hermione laughed, but stopped at the serious expression on the other witch's face. "No, no I think about him like a brother. I mean we barely even see each other these days. What's going on?"
"It's just I asked him if I could come with him to the cemetery today, and he told me that you and him going today is your tradition." Looking at her closer, Hermione could see that Angelina had been crying thinking that George was betraying her.
Hermione took Angelina's hand. "Angelina, he loves you. We just sat on the cold ground and drank fire whiskey and were melancholy. He probably just didn't want you to see him like that." Hermione took a deep breath. "I swear first of all that none of the Weasleys are my type. I like them much more broody and bookish. And secondly, I know we aren't close but I'd never do that to you."
"Thanks Hermione." Angelina exhaled. "You are a good friend."
"For what it's worth, I don't think George would ever cheat on you." Hermione sighed, not wanting to break George's confidence, but knowing that something needed to be said or two people who were meant to be together were headed for a breakup. "He's worried you are in love with Fred's memory and not him. But I didn't say anything to you!" Hermione shook her finger at the other girl.
"How could he ever think that I don't love him…ugh men," Angelina snorted in annoyance and she opened her mouth to say something else, but was cut off by a sudden noise.
A pop of apparition sounded ahead causing both witches to turn and see Harry Potter walking up, looking a bit dishevelled with a bottle of fire whiskey with a big bow on it.
"Am I late?" He asked sheepishly, running his hand through his hair sending it going every which way.
"Yeah," Hermione answered. "Probably for the best, though." She kissed him lightly on the cheek as she walked by him. "I've got to get going. Neville's been babysitting my parolees all day."
Closing the garden gate behind her, Hermione turned and waved, "Toodaloo!"