Bringing Them Back

Sunday, June 27, 2004 -- 9: 37p.m
Hermione

Hermione stood patiently by the floo as she waited on Kingsley. It was late, but the sooner she got word to the man what she was planning on doing, the sooner he would be able to process it all. If she knew Kingsley, and she had a vague idea of the man, he would think she was barking mad and wouldn’t even think about looking at her notes until she pressed him on the idea relentlessly. It was all too familiar a thing with Kingsley and, in her excitement; she wasn’t looking forward to the delay this would most likely take.

“Hermione?” The deep voice of the Minister of Magic finally filled the small room. His dark eyes focused on her, “How can I help you, Miss. Granger?”

“Kingsley, I’d like to come through, may I?” She wasn’t about to tell him this through a floo call. Face to face would make it easier for her to hand him the paperwork and stand there long enough so he would actually have to read it a bit before telling her to leave.

“Sure, step on through,” he told her and disappeared from the green flames. Hermione looked over her shoulder to Fred who stood there smiling at her. He nodded at her and she smiled, took a steadying breath and disappeared through the floo.

“You really should work on your landing, Miss Granger,” an amused voice came to her as she picked herself off the ground.

“Or perhaps you should try and keep such a gaudy rug away from the fireplace?” She said snippily as she looked down to the bear skinned rug, sending a glare at the head of it that had tripped her on purpose.

“What fun would that be, Hermione?” Kingsley quipped, his deep timber laced with humor and she couldn’t help but grin back.

“Right, well, Kingsley,” She straightened herself up and walked over towards him, he was sitting on his dark emerald green couch, sporting silver lounge pants and a tight white t-shirt that made his dark skin stand out rather intensely. She had always thought him handsome, but seeing him like this made her gulp. Seeing a man in robes was one thing – but in thin attire that showed off every sculpted muscle…she laughed at her thoughts and sat on the opposite side of the couch. “Forgive me, I have never seen you look so comfortable before.”

“Most haven’t, I do not normally let people into my private home, but you work close at hand with me and I have always trusted you. So – tell me, what exactly can I help you with at,” He glanced over at the clock, “Nine-forty at night?”

“This.” She said and handed him the folder than housed all the documents, theories, proofs, conclusions, disputes and verifying she knew he would ask for. It also had copies from the books she had found all the information in, detailed authors, titles and paragraph lists. She wasn’t an idiot and since she worked so closely with this man, she knew what he expected. Especially when it came to off the wall cases like this. Fred’s case was just as anally detailed.

“Are you serious?” He lifted his gaze from the papers to level it on her. “Sirius Black? Hermione…he…he’s dead.”

“As you can see, Kingsley, I would have to disagree. I know it’s not heard of, I know that people have tried over the years to save someone, but not a single one of them was me or my partners. So you will have to excuse me when I say that thinking it impossible is quite idiotic.”

“Your partners?”

“Fred and George Weasley, sir.”

Kingsley’s eyes narrowed in on her and she knew that the man had connected the dots without even needing to ask the questions or hear the answers. That was something she liked about him. He was smart. Impeccably so, and he didn’t need anything dumbed down for him. “It says here that you need a descendant, Hermione, Sirius had no children.”

“Yes, that book does state it, but out of the six hundred and eight books that held this topic, only two of them said descendant, all the rest said blood. Which means, if I’m correct, that the descendant is not the true part but someone with the same blood. And luckily, all pureblood families are interrelated.” She chuckled and shook her head, “Never thought I’d say anything like that.” She grinned and pressed on, “I have that easily. Fred will stand in for that.”

“Fred?”

“Yes, Molly and Sirius were first cousins, which means that Fred would be his second. Close enough don’t you agree?” Hermione shrugged, “If not, Arthur and Sirius were first cousins once removed, which makes Fred his second on both lines. We have also decided that both twins will be present, as the DNA portion so it’s doubly effective.”

“And what of the sacrifice?”

Hermione looked to Kingsley and frowned. It was hard enough to know that she had done what she had, but knowing that he would have to know in order for him to give the clearance just made her angry. “That would be me.”

“I’m sure you understand I’m not fully comfortable in asking,” Kingsley sighed, “But I need to know just what you mean by that.”

“Confidentially?”

“Of course.” He told her and watched as she swallowed.

“I have given up my obliteration skills.”

Silence stretched between them as Kingsley thought about what she said. It was clear on the older man’s face he knew. He knew. He knew what it was that she had truly given up and when he looked back down to the paperwork, she though she caught sympathy in the normally stoic man. “I am sure you are aware that when or if your parents are found – the only way to return the memories you took are by your own doing?”

Hermione needed, “I know.”

“No one will be able to undo it, Hermione. If you choose to sacrifice your Obliteration.”

“I know that,” she sighed, her eyes closing as she shook her head, motioning to the couch beside him and when he waved for her to sit, she did, “It’s called a sacrifice for a reason, Kings.”

For a small moment they just looked into each other’s eyes. They didn’t speak, just studied each other’s faces, until Kingsley spoke, “Well, it all seems to be present. When would you and the Weasley boys care to try this?”

“When?” She blinked.

“Hermione, you have built a strong case, you have worked on this for years and the last thing I want to do is keep an innocent man trapped, if he is,” his eyes softened, “It all boils down to trust, Hermione, and I trust you. Most of all I trust your mind. You are the brightest witch I have even known and the very thought that you and the duo of Weasleys put your minds together to figure this out is enough for me to actually believe it will work.” He chuckled. “They are mad geniuses where you are brilliant, so I have no doubt that if it is possible, you three will succeed.”

She wanted to burst out crying. And was absolutely shocked to realize tears had fallen from her eyes, she sniffed and ducked her head, “Thank you for your faith in us.”

“Just remember that if there is a will, there is a way, Miss Granger.”

“I would like to do it one week from today.” Hermione got back on topic.

“One week?” Kingsley asked puzzled.

“We need time to practice, to double check, to ensure that we know what we are doing before we get to it, Kings, this is important. If we get this right, Harry will have Sirius, the veils great mystery will be answered and countless people’s lives could be restored.”

“True,” he nodded, “I would like for it to be held under wraps for as long as possible. If anything, Sirius’ return will be classified as a one-off, a happenstance, a mystery to even us. I do not want people to know that there is a way to bring anyone back from the ‘dead’.”

Hermione nodded. “I know I’m asking a lot, I wouldn’t even press on this if I thought it would cause any problems, I swear to you the whole lot of us will take an unbreakable vow if need be to ensure that the wizarding world doesn’t know about this….” She sat closer to the edge of the couch, bright brown eyes wide, “But I have to do it, for Harry, for all of us really, but most of all for him, he has to…”

“Hermione,” Kingsley cut her off, “Just get Sirius back, will you?”

She smiled brightly and nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Hermione

Hermione watched in silence as Fred and George practiced their incantation. It really was amazing to see how well the two moved together. They were in sync nearly all throughout the movements and when the both of them had uttered their last phrase she smiled appreciatively towards them when they looked to her for her opinion. When had it happened? When had these boys started to look at her like she was the person to go for answers? She figured it had a lot to do with Fred being back. But she didn’t think it had anything to do with the rest of the time they had known each other. It was amazing, how people’s thoughts changed so quickly.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered. Because it was. They were two elements to a whole. When one moved the other did, when one spoke the other did. It wasn’t lagged or rushed but perfect. If she didn’t know that they had just started practicing it only a few hours ago, she would have assumed they had been perfecting it for years. “I honestly do not think you need to worry too much.”

“Are you sure?” George asked as he and Fred walked over to sit down on the couch beside her, flanking either side of her. Her nose scrunched at his smell and when Fred slid against her she gave him a disgusted glance.

“I am,” she answered before working herself out from between them, “You both are disgusting.”

Fred chuckled, “What’s wrong, Smarts? You don’t like me all sweaty?”

Hermione looked to him with a raised brow, wondering just how truthful he wanted that answer. She would love him to be sweaty. Just in an entirely different way. The conversation she had had with George two weeks ago was still fresh in her mind, though, so she hadn’t pressed him too hard. They hadn’t even really had a good snog due to their research.

He really shouldn’t have asked that question. It sent her thoughts into an entirely different realm. Of memories and dreams and hopes. It had been close, all those years ago, if he hadn’t been such a gentleman she wouldn’t be sitting here a virgin, but he had been. And even though it had angered her at the time, she knew he was right.

 

~Flashback: July 1997

The two were sitting in their usual chair, Fred beneath her, she straddling him with her knees by his thighs. His hands were everywhere on her, legs, hips, ribs, back, shoulders, neck, hair. It was as if he were tracing her body with his hands, trying to picture it in his mind’s eye – storing it for later. They had just spent the last two hours talking and arguing about what she had told him and when he realized that nothing, he could say would change her mind – it all came down to this.

It was painful, she thought, because she didn’t know exactly what amount of time would span between this stolen moment and the next time she would see him. Somewhere from the dark corners of her mind the horrid thought of: ‘if she was going to see him again’ came spiraling in causing her to jerk her head back from their kiss and unglue her eyes to look at his face.

He really was a good-looking man. Other’s didn’t see it because of his pale skin, red hair, freckles and the way his face would sometimes scrunch when he was thinking hard about something, but Hermione saw it. Fred Weasley was delicious in his own right. He had kind bluish-brown eyes that always held a bit of mystery, like you never knew what he was thinking, a defined but not overbearing nose like his younger brother, full lips that fit perfectly with his other features. They were perhaps her favorite feature on him. They were always telling stories, smiling at her, smirking, creating ways to make people laugh. And then they kissed. They kissed her until her toes curled and her body shook. Slid along her skin in feather light movements that made her whimper. Yes, Fred Weasley’s lips were her favorite.

He opened his eyes slowly to look at her, his pale brows rising in the silent question of ‘why did you stop?’ She smiled at him, shaking her head and leaned back to sit completely upon his lap, giving herself some room. If she didn’t know they were alone in the flat, she never would do this, but lovely sweet Alicia had made sure to take George out of the equation for her tonight. She really ought to send that woman a blasted thank you basket with the most expensive set of Quidditch merchandise available. Maybe after the war. Hermione grinned down to him before crisscrossing her arms over her stomach and grabbing the hem of her purple t-shirt, without thinking twice on her decision she lifted the fabric up and off of her, her long curly hair cascading down her bare back. She had decided, earlier in the night before she even made her way over here, that she was going to have Fred Weasley in all the ways a woman can have a man because if anyone deserved her, it was him.

She watched as his eyes widened in shock, his tongue darted out to lick along his lower lip, his nostrils flared as he inhaled and then met his gaze when he returned to look at her. It was the first time she had exposed any part of her body to him, sure he had groped above and beneath her clothes, well her upper portion, but tonight everything would change.  

“Fred,” she whispered, the sensation of cool air on her making her bite her lower lip, her hands loose at her sides as she watched him. He looked from her face to her chest again and brought one hand up slowly to her hip and then the other. His large hands engulfed her sides before he moved them upward, over her ribs. She watched mesmerized as he studied them, his eyes hooded, his breathing quick, before he leaned forward and kissed on the valley of her chest, nipping and suckling his way to the peak of her right. When his tongue curled around the nub she felt her head fall back and her own breath quicken.

He was taking his time. It was heaven to her; to have this man, this powerful and brilliant man, treat her with such slow and steady worship. She could feel him underneath her backside, it promised her wonderful and amazing things.

When his hands left her, she heard herself whimper as she brought her gaze back to him and watched as he crawled his gaze back up to her eyes. She could see his desire there, with more confidence than she believed herself to have; she reached out and gripped the sides of his own shirt, pulling it up inch by inch until she could pull it off of him. He hissed when her nails slid across his chest down to his taut stomach and then around his sides. Hermione bent low, kissing the curve of his neck, sliding her lips down to his collar bone and then to his chest as she slid herself off his lap and rested upon her knees on the floor.

It was this movement that brought his attention to her once again, only to see her unbutton her jeans, slide them slowly over the flare of her hips...He groaned and slid forward, his knees spread wide as he reached with both hands to her jaw. He cradled her head there, his lust-filled eyes staring into her’s. “We won’t be doing this, Hermione.” He said softly with a voice far deeper than she had ever heard it to be. “I will not be saying goodbye to you like this.”

She felt the tears form in her eyes, gather at her lashes and then drop down upon her flushed cheeks. A deep-rooted feeling of embarrassment settled in the pit of her stomach as she tried to rip her head away from his hands, but he didn’t budge, instead he clung to her, scooting closer until his rear fell and managed to sink to the floor between her and the chair. “No, don’t pull away, please, it’s not you – you are beautiful, Hermione, and I want…” He cut himself off with a shake of his head, “I know what you’re doing. This is a ‘just in case’ and I don’t want a ‘just in case’ I want your first time – our first together – to happen because its time and its right not because you’re leaving after the wedding and you’re afraid we won’t ever see each other again.”

Hermione closed her eyes as her body sagged into him, his hands slipping from her cheeks into her hair as he pulled her into an all-consuming hug. “What if I never see you again, Fred? What if this is it? I…I love you…” She felt him tense, but kept going, “I want it to be with you, even if we don’t make it as a couple, I want you to be the one.”

“I will be, I promise you,” he told her, kissing the crown of her head while he reached behind them to pull the afghan off the back of the chair, “…just not tonight.”

“Please…Fred, don’t make promises you don’t know if you can keep,” she sniffed and felt him shift as he wrapped the blanket around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“It’s not a promise I can’t keep, it’s a promise I will keep, Hermione Granger. We will make it through all this and when we do,” he smiled and she felt it shift the top of her hair, “I’ll make sure you’re so ravished you’ll forget your own name.”

 

Fred

“Hermione?” An amused voice brought her back. She blinked and felt a blush crawl up the back of her neck as she turned to look at George. His blue-brown eyes full of humor. “Welcome back.”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed and stood, smoothing out her clothing before looking away from them and shaking her own head. Fred knew exactly how she wanted him sweaty. She chanced a glance at him and he was smiling knowingly at her. Sending a glare his way she huffed and began to leave the room.

“Don’t think she likes your stink, Fred,” George chuckled, the sound of his fist hitting his brothers arm caused her to look over her shoulder at the two.

“I don’t think she does, George,” Fred sighed, feigning hurt.

“Oh you two,” she laughed and left the room, sometimes dealing with them took a lot, but after so many years with one of them missing – she just felt lucky now. When she left the room she looked back to the door and grinned wickedly before calling out, “Oh and Fred,” She peaked her head back around the corner, “I don’t mind you sweaty, but I want to be the one that makes you that way.”

Hermione walked away to the sound of a groan from Fred and laughter from George.

He stared at the door, his brows pulled together and his heart racing at the thoughts going through his head. That woman knew how to leave him speechless. Fred frowned and looked to George whose smirk told him he knew too much about it and with a loud sigh he asked, “What?”

“I think you should just give it to her,” George said thoughtfully. “It’s been long enough, yes?”

“George…” Fred sighed, “She’s a virgin and I’m…”

“Not one.”

“I feel like one,” He admitted.

“I suppose you would,” George nodded, “Fred, Hermione has been waiting six years for you to be back. I know she didn’t bring you back just for herself and I doubt that she even had sex in mind when she did so, but the fact is that now – she has it on her mind daily.”

“I know,” Fred grinned, “Trust me, I know.”

“Well, what gives?” His brother asked and looked over to him with a seriousness Fred rarely saw his brother wear. “She loves you; you love her…you’re a man. I don’t see why you aren’t jumping at the opportunity, especially because she actually wants you.”

Fred shook his head and shrugged, “It just doesn’t feel like the right time yet.”

“Fred,” George sighed, “The last time you held out on her, on giving her you completely you were in a coma for six bloody years and that woman – that stubborn, infuriating, brilliant woman – dedicated over half a decade to make sure we all got you back. It took a lot out of her, and all she wants is you to want her half as much as she wants you.”

“I do want her.”

“You don’t act like it,” His twin deadpanned, “How long are you going to make her doubt herself? She thinks you don’t want her anymore.”

“That’s not true, she knows that.”

“Knowing about it and feeling it are two different things. You say one thing, but your actions say another – what’s that saying?” George asked, “Actions speak louder than words?”

“What do you want me to do George?” He asked annoyed, “Go in there and jump her?”

“Sure, why not?” George grinned, “I’ll leave you two alone for a night or two if that’s what you need.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Fred said all of a sudden, standing and turning to fully face his brother. “We should be practicing the incantation, double checking the date, Sirius…he’s the one important right now.”

“Fred…”

“No, I’m not going to sit here discussing my love life with anyone. I…I do want to, but I’m just not ready. Okay? It has nothing to do with her and if she thinks that then she’s not as intelligent as we all believe her to be.” Fred was angry and he didn’t know why. He should be willing to do anything to show his appreciation for the woman who never gave up on him, but the truth is, he was scared. Because he felt for her in a way he hadn’t felt for anyone. He wanted everything to be perfect, to be magic. Not just because she was bloody horny and wanted a nice fuck,  “Come on...”

George sighed and stood up, knowing that the time for pressing this matter was over. He knew his brother, he was not a rash man and sooner or later he would do what his heart told him to. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late, because a woman’s heart was a fragile thing. George nodded and followed Fred back into the kitchen, knowing that he had a long night of practicing in silence to look forward to.