Chapter 18
Hermione
Hermione came back to herself slowly bit by bit registering more of the world around her that the haze of despair she had been in. When she had heard Mrs. Weasley accuse Sirius..and her, sadness had hit first, like a sledgehammer to her chest. Is this what she thought? What people would think? Had she done something to make it seem like her interest in Sirius was more than friendly? Even as the more traitorous parts of her brain tried to make this her fault somehow, she knew she had done nothing wrong. It hurt that Mrs. Weasley, who up to third year she had started to see as a mother figure, thought so little of her.
Listening in the alcove, Hermione had felt the weight of the last year crash into her at once, every piece of hate mail, every accusation slung at her for going on one date with Viktor Krum. The weight of the lies about her being spread in every newspaper and magazine in the country. She still had a peppering of scars on her palms, where the bobotuber pus deranged fans of Viktor's or Harry's sent her had damaged her skin too deeply to be repaired without a mark. She thought of her parents, their accusations, Dumbledore…every slight, every hurt circling in her mind, leaving her feeling flayed open and raw. When would it be enough? She’d never done anything like the things they accused her of, and had to live with the fallout as if she had anyway. It’s not fair. If they are going to act like I’ve shagged half the school I may as well get some fun. She blushed at her own petulant thought. Her face was still pressed into her pillow, and she slowly realized the pressure on her back wasn’t Crookshanks sitting on her.
George’s hand rested on her lower back, his fingers moving in soothing circles. He was sitting next to her, and she realized she had no idea how long he had been there, petting her like a kitten as she cried into her pillow. Hermione buried her face deeper, feeling embarrassment wash over her. How can I ever face them again? She moaned internally. She lay there a moment longer, her tears drying on her pillow as she debated what to do. Maybe I can pretend to fall asleep, then he’ll leave and I can…never speak to him again?Move to Australia under a new identity? She shrugged off that ridiculous thought. It’s not my fault what other people say or think of me. It’s not!
She forced herself to sit up, but couldn’t look George in the face. She let her hair fall around hers instead, speaking to him through a curtain of curls.
“Th-thanks, George. I’m..better now.” Her voice was hoarse, and came out in a choked whisper.
“Hermione, I-”
A resounding CRACK echoed in the room, making both of them jump. Fred stood there, tucking the extendable ear back in his pocket. He hesitated, looking unsure of his next move. It was so unlike him Hermione felt a wave of guilt again.
“How’d the rest of the meeting go?” George asked finally, breaking the awkward silence.
Fred crossed the room, looking more sure of himself as he sat on the edge of Hermione’s bed to join her and his brother.
“About as much of a shitshow as you’d imagine. Everyone yelling at everyone else- McGonagall threatened to hex mum if she spoke like that about Hermione again, Bill even started yelling by the end. Dad apologized, Mum cried, Dumbledore left to deal with “urgent matters”, Snape threw in a few insults. Not their most productive work, and we never even found out what happened at the Burrow.”
“I’m sorry.” Hermione said sadly, turning her face away from the twins and fixing her eyes on the glittering jewel colored beetle in the jar beside her bed. The beetle faced her, her horn-rim glasses shape highlighting her eyes. Don’t look at me like that. She thought petulantly. It’s no more than you deserve.
Fred’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “What’re you sorry for?” He asked, bemused.
“For- um…for-being such a problem. Everyone’s fighting and it’s all over me. Your mum hates me, I just…” Hermione trailed off. She couldn’t think of what to apologize for, even though this situation felt like it was entirely her fault.
Fred slung his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “You didn’t do anything. If they want to act like dungheads, it’s their problem, not yours.” She gave him a grateful smile, somewhat ruined by the tears still clinging to her lashes.
“You know Forge, I think I know a way to get Ms. Granger smiling again. “ Fred said with a mischievous glint to his eye.
“Oh really Gred, do tell.”
“I think, she needs a break from this musty old place.”
“Breath of fresh air, like.”
Fred stood, grabbing Hermione’s hand and pulling her to her feet with him.
“What do you say, Ms. Granger? Fancy a real adventure?”
“I don’t know…we’ll get in trouble.” She bit her lower lip and cast her eyes to the side. Looking into Fred’s earnest grinning face was far too persuasive, and she needed to stay sensible. The sensible, logical thing would be to stay safely inside Grimmauld Place, not galavant around with the twins, no matter how tempting.
“We’ll only get in trouble if we get caught.” George said from behind her.
“Which we won’t.” Fred said with conviction.
“As long as some sneaky witch doesn’t”
“Sick her pet rug on us again.”
“Come on Hermione. Live a little.”
“Um…” Hermione hedged, worried about getting caught and what the consequences could be. There were also death eaters to consider, a constant looming threat of the world beyond these walls. But the twin’s infectious enthusiasm and persuasive arguments had slowly started to chip away at Hermione's fears, and she found herself intrigued by the idea of a spontaneous adventure. The idea of escaping the oppressive worries hanging over her and forgetting, even for a few hours the problems she was facing was too tempting too resist. With a mix of nerves and excitement, she agreed to sneak out with the twins, feeling a rush of adrenaline as they led her back to the passageway in the hall and out to the garden beyond.
They aparated as a trio, each twin holding a hand over one of Hermione’s eyes. When the world felt solid under her feet once more, they revealed their destination to her with their typical flourish.
“Welcome-”
“To Brighton Pier Carnival!”
The neon lights and the sound of laughter filled the air as they eagerly explored the various rides and games, feeling like they were in a world of their own. The sea glittered under the stars and reflected the flashing lights of the carnival as waves crashed into the beach. The boys drug her to the carousel, where they delighted in inspecting the ornately carved wooden animals, carefully selecting their mounts for the ride. Hermione choose a pearly white unicorn, Fred beside her on a large black stallion and George behind on a serpentine green dragon. George claimed to be channelling their brother Charlie, joking that this must be how he trained to be a dragon rider. From there they insisted on riding everything at least once, pouting when she refused to ride the roller coaster that twisted around in gut-wrenching corkscrews for a second time.
“Please, Hermione?”
“It’s almost as good as riding a broom!”
“Exactly why I didn’t like it!” She cried, clutching her stomach. Her hair was a fluffy, tangled mess or curls, and she felt like she left her stomach back at the first drop of the roller coaster.
The twins conceded, dragging her by her hands to the games instead. Fred was suspiciously good at a throwing game, winning a giant pink bear with a floppy neck and presenting it to Hermione. She grinned as she accepted the oversized animal, hugging it around the middle and carefully avoiding letting it’s legs touch the ground.
They made their way to the beach, the sea breeze brushing against their faces, cooling them after the heat of the crowds. They kicked off their shoes and ran along the sandy shore, feeling free and alive under the moonlit sky. They laughed as they ran through the shallow water, splashing and kicking sand at each other. When they ran out of breath and were ready to a break, George transfigured his handkerchief into a blanket and laid it out on the sand for them. The trio settled down and watched the stars, their laughter mingling with the sound of crashing waves as they swapped stories and jokes. Hermione loved watching them tell stories, Fred highly animated and libel to jump to his feet and act out his favorite parts, as George supplied details and performed masterful impressions of key players. Hermione found herself utterly engrossed, even as her sides hurt from laughing harder than she had in a long time.
“and by this point, the Polyjuice potion was wearing off-”
“So we’re running down the grand staircase, hair changing color-”
“Bodies shrinking- terribly uncomfortable, you see-”
“We turn the corner-”
“And run straight into that statue of the giant toad, the one by the spiral dungeon staircase..”
“The bloody thing swallowed us!”
“And Belched!”
“Wait wait wait-” Hermione interrupted, throwing up her hands. “Now, you’re having me on. The toad statue, ate you? Yet here you sit?”She asked incredulously, raising a brow at the duo.
“Ms. Granger, are you saying we would lie?” Fred asked in mock horror, slapping a hand to his chest.
“To you?” George added, his eyes wide.
“Hmmm, let me think. Yes!” She laughed.
“I’m wounded. To think, she still doesn’t trust us, Forge.”
George slapped a hand over his heart and threw himself backwards into the sand with an exaggerated groan. “My heart!” He moaned. Hermione giggled and poked him in the side.
“So tell me, did you really make polyjuice potion in your second year?”
George sat up and locked his eyes onto her. “Of course we did, Granger.”
“Don’t believe a couple of screw-ups could manage it?” Fred taunted, grinning to soften his words.
Hermione blushed. “Nothing like that. It’s just- I did too. Brewed polyjuice in second year.” She shifted and looked down, somehow embarrassed to boast of the achievement.
“Did you now?”
“And what would a rule-following girl like you be doing brewing such an advanced potion that young?”
“Well…you see-” She found herself telling them the whole story, from deciding to brew the potion, stealing the ingredients from snape, brewing it in the toilet as a petulant teen ghost hovered over her, drugging Crab and Goyle and of course, the disaster of the cat hair transfiguring her into a hybrid cat-person, leaving her confined to the hospital wing for a month. The boys hung on her every word, fully engrossed in her tale.
“Wait, wait wait.” Fred said as she reached the end. “Please tell me, someone took a picture.”
“A picture? Of what?” Hermione asked, bemused.
“Of you as a cat!” He howled with laughter.
Hermione turned pink. “Of course not. I didn’t show my face until all the fur fell off!” She cried.
George snapped his finger, then pointed at his brother.
“Hey, I bet we could get the memory off Ron or Harry…”
“Oh no, don’t you dare!” Hermione squeaked.
They laughed off her protests, changing the subject , but Hermione didn’t trust the look they shared before they distracted her. They talked for hours, losing track of time completely as they bounced from topic to topic, regaling each other with tales of their past adventures and dreams for the future. They told her about their plans for their shop, painting their vision with their words and hands as Hermione watched, her head resting on her knees. She was entranced by their vision and conviction, and it struck her that there was no doubt in her mind that they would achieve whatever they set out to do. Why don't people see how brilliant they are? She wondered, realizing she had made that mistake herself in years past; assuming there was little substance behind the twins beyond joking around. Her own love for her teachers, for learning had led her to be rather narrow-minded in how things should be done, and she realized that although she took pride in her test scores and school rank, it was hardly the only scale on which to measure intelligence.
As the first light of dawn began to break, the three friends reluctantly made their way back to Grimmauld Place. George carried Hermione’s pink bear on his back, while Fred supporting a tired Hermione with a friendly arm around her shoulders. She knew she might have to face the consequences of their actions, but in that moment, she didn't care. They had given her a night of magic and wonder, one she was certain was the best of her entire life.