Steps
Marguerite tried for the fifth time that day to get her great-granddaughter’s attention. She was becoming more and more unresponsive.
There were more people milling about than usual so she could understand why Hygieia would pretend to not see her but she couldn’t help feeling miffed about it. Most great-granddaughters would feel honored if their great-grandmothers came to visit them from the afterlife, she imagined. Such visits were few and far between after all. The timing had to be right, it did take a toll on her great-granddaughter (momentarily of course, she wasn’t heartless!) and the ritual had to be performed with exact precision. . . It was a bother really and the elders in the matrilineal line made it a point to constantly remind her that this was the first time they’d ever had to use it.
The subtext was clear: Marguerite had failed to preserve the gift given to her family since the birth of the gift itself.
She rolled her eyes. Most of the elders had never had to fight multiple dark lords. Most of the elders had had reliable allies. Obedient daughters. Doting grandchildren. Entire civilizations to worship or wage war on their behalf. Was it really Marguerite’s fault their power had been diluted centuries before she was ever born?
She thought not. Most of them didn’t even have a stubborn great-granddaughter. Time was running out before she’d be forced to stop these visits, she knew, but Hygieia simply wasn’t ready. Through no fault of her own of course, but did the girl really have to be so obtuse?
Well it couldn’t be helped. The werewolf visiting sensed Marguerite’s presence, she could tell by the way his nostrils flared but she also knew he’d sense her benevolent magic and should know to leave well enough alone. It was their gift that had saved his life after all, the least he could do was be grateful. Even if he didn’t know he should be. That was of no consequence.
She released a huff of irritation when making silly faces at the werewolf’s child failed to get Hygieia’s attention. Her great-granddaughter scowled but continued to pretend she didn’t see her.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have one of the others try. She had been so sure she’d be the one to get through to her ---
A redhead stepped through the fireplace. Her great-granddaughter fixed a nonexistent wrinkle in her robes, smoothed her hair, and stood straighter. The redhead grinned and swept across the room to pull her into his arms.
The blond in the corner of the room scowled.
Well this was interesting.
There was no fun in the afterlife and Marguerite did so miss entertainment.
Fred Weasley could now cross kissing Hermione Granger off his bucket list.
Maybe he would add it on again just to cross it off each time he'd kissed her since he stepped through the floo. He wasn’t sure he ever planned on stopping so the list of crossed off items might need a shop’s worth of parchment.
Once, to be crossed off the first time, as he crossed the kitchen to greet her, his lips on hers before saying a word to anyone. Was his motive ulterior? Well he'd spent years in a dungeon thinking about her and had swiftly decided to show his interest the moment he found out she and ickle Ronniekins were no longer an item and she was blessedly, mercifully still single.
If everyone already at the safehouse happened to see his greeting and would thereby know to lay off so he could enjoy the company of the prettiest bird in the world without competition, well then. That would be useful.
The second for the kiss he’d placed on the back of her head while he showed her some of the equipment he brought over, nearly feeling his face split from sheer happiness at how the energy between them hadn’t changed but he could finally act on it. He’d wanted to do this since he’s seen her petrified in the hospital wing at Hogwarts and he was pleased to report her hair was just as soft as he imagined it would be.
The third in her favorite windowsill alcove, after they’d shed everyone and finally had a moment to themselves before lunch, only interrupted by an owl pecking at the window.
The fourth after she balled up the letter the owl left behind and huffed in irritation.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Malfoy,” she spit out as if that explained everything. Granted, Fred still thought the ferret was a bit of a git and couldn’t understand how much everyone seemed to trust him now but he figured he could still use a bit more context. “He could’ve just told me this while he was downstairs this morning.”
“And what he’d do to bother you, oh beautiful one?”
She smoothed out the balled up letter and showed it to him with a scowl.
Granger,
I realize yesterday must have been overwhelming but I beg you to remember that you agreed to be my research assistant beforeyou agreed to help the weasel twin. I’m sure you can agree that potentially saving lives is a bit more important than fawning over yet another redhead. If you have changed your mind about assisting me, then I beg you let me know so that I may find a reliable replacement. This will be too time consuming for it to be acceptable for you to juggle both.
D.M.
Fred scoffed, not sure whether to allow his blood to keep boiling or laugh at the little snake for acting like a jealous little fourth year.
“I’m so sorry Fred, I didn’t even think ---”
“You don’t have to help me,” he said, half worried she’d chew off her lower lip now that her fury had turned to shame.
“But ---”
“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “I just thought it’d be fun, working on Potterwatch together, but you’re brilliant and George told me you trained to be a medic before they made you an assassin so it makes sense for you to do research for one of our healers. If you ever happen to have time then. . . But really you helping me was just an excuse to have you spend time with me and it looks like we’re doing a good enough job of that already, don’t you think?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.
“I’ve half a mind to never speak to him again after that message. I was already starting to consider it when I realized he didn’t tell me you’re alive,” she grumbled.
Fred smiled softly. That had bothered him too. “I was surprised at how surprised you were. But who knows how a ferret’s mind works. The git’s head never leaves his arse. But, research assistant sounds straight up your alley compared to the boring, torturous fun we’d have so tell him you’re more reliable than the moon and so will be gracious enough to help his measly arse. I’m just so relieved we both made it long enough to be here, in this moment. I was worried I’d never see you again, you know.”
She nodded and felt his heart clench at the tears in her eyes.
“Fred, what happened to you? I mean you don’t have to tell me of course,” she wrung her hands in agitation so he reached his hands to untangle hers.
He’d been asked this by everyone. Interrogated under veritaserum and had the usual familial bond spells performed to confirm his identity. Countless times they’d asked him. Some of it was too difficult to speak about. Some of it he never planned on speaking about for one reason or another. But this was Hermione. . .
“Not yet, pet, but soon.”
She nodded and he held her tightly.
“Let’s go for a walk?”
So they pulled on their coats and made their way down the stairs. He vaguely noticed the curious looks from the people playing exploding snap in the living room, the eyes that fixed on their joined hands and looked at him curiously throughout the day.
His jaw clenched. He knew what they said about her, what they thought.
But this was Hermione bloody Granger, for Godric’s sake. She could go mad as Moody, bitter as Snape, unhinged as Sirius and he’d still feel a little jolt in his heart every time he’d see her. It’d always been this way to some degree or another and he didn’t anticipate that changing no matter what she’d gone through or what they thought. Hell, he knew he was risking his mum’s and ickle Ronniekins wrath by pursuing her. Did it matter though?
He still hated the dark and sleeping in a room by himself ever since his escape. He got lost in thought nearly as much as she did. He didn’t need as many potions as her, but he had at one point. He wouldn’t look down on her if her hallucinations led her to believe she was Morgana or Circe themselves. No. He’d waited too long for this.
He squeezed her hand and looked down at the blush on her face. He knew if anyone understood what he went through, it would be her.
He knew if anyone could protect her, it would be him.
"So he has what? A bulletin board full of pictures of Hermione?" The voice said as she padded her way to the kitchen.
It was afternoon and she'd woken to the sound of a woman wailing her name, leaving her cold and uncomfortable Fred had been curled up with her when she fell asleep. She missed his warmth and the safety of his arms. She’d nearly rolled her eyes at herself as she’d opened the bedroom door. One day with Fred and so much felt different.
The hallways were empty as one of the striker teams were out on a raid and she figured now would be the perfect time to make a spot of tea. Partially to have some left over whenever the team got back, partially to check if Fred was in the kitchen, and partially to calm her nerves.
The pain in her stomach felt unbearable and her scars seemed to tingle. It felt like they were reaching out, trying to connect with each other. If it weren't for the fact that she currently hated Malfoy, she'd ask him to take another look at them.
As it was, she pressed herself against the wall to listen to the conversation going on in the sitting room, ignoring the feeling of the scars coiling up her throat.
"Yep," Fred's voice popped at the p. "A whole room more like. Her at Hogwarts, her at battle."
"Her now?" A feminine voice asked. Hermione thought it might be Susan Bones.
"It looks like the last one was from right before she was captured."
"Wait so Rosier wasn't part of the kidnapping?" A voice that might've been Alicia Spinnet asked.
"Nope," Fred popped the p again. "That was an entirely different group of Death Eaters obsessed with Hermione."
"It was Dolohov and Greyback the first time," Neville supplied. "They made a deal about sharing her if they captured her."
"Didn't they make a deal over Malfoy's mum too?"
"Cissy was just caught in the crossfire," Sirius voice came firm despite his soft volume. "They'd gotten everything they needed from Cissy before they defected but they realized how upset Hermione looked when she thought they were after Cissy when they broke in. They took Cissy just to mess with her."
"Christ." The Susan Bones-like voice said.
"Yeah, it's why Harry had to move her from the safe house," Justin Finch Fletchely's voice said. "Having her around was putting too many people in danger. I mean just look at what happened to Padma when they got caught foraging."
"Padma got out alright," Parvati's voice said. Hermione hadn’t know Parvati was here.
"But you heard her," Justin argued. "Even she said the snatchers were looking for Granger and would've left Padma alone if Padma hadn't tried to wait for Granger to run too."
"Remind me never to break my ankle around you if you think leaving people behind is the right thing to do," Neville muttered.
"Come on, it's true! We all know it. Granger's like catnip for Death Eaters. Even You-Know-Who is obsessed with her, has no one mentioned all her dueling partners died back when she used to go out on the field? Wouldn't be surprised if that position was cursed just like the DADA post was. Compared to that, is it really surprising that one French nobody was obsessed with her too?"
"We're off topic," Angelina Johnson interrupted.
"You shouldn't be insulting Fred's girlfriend," Alicia's voice said teasingly.
Sirius let out a loud snort and said, "Congratulations by the way."
"So what are you going to do?" Neville broke in.
"We're gathering a small team, I couldn’t take out half the death eaters when I got out so Harry's planning a raid soon. Rosier’s still there most like and I’m taking him out and I plan on taking down those pictures one by one. I’m not letting that git harm her. We're looking for volunteers if any of you are up for it."
Tea sounded far less appealing to Hermione just then. The thought of being chased again, being captured, having Fred in danger when she’d just now finally gotten him --- her stomach dropped, her veins freezed, her eyes watered.
A muscle spasm caused her to knock over a vase on a side table she’d been leaning on for support. The voices in the sitting room grew silent.
Fred stopped her in the hallway. “Go for another walk with me, love?”
Her side hurt but she nodded.
And she was glad she did because there was something beautiful about Fred’s red hair against the sunset. His olive green coat wrapped tight against the wind.
They could have cast a warming charm. They should have actually, but neither of them wanted to interrupt the careful balance of glances and linked hands they’d settled into.
“So, are you ready to hear my tale of woe?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Only if you really want to,” Hermione responded. “I don’t want to force you or ---”
He brought a gloved finger to her lips and smiled softly at her. “I think you should hear some of it. You deserve to anyway and I’m sorry you had toi overhear what you did.”
“You should have told me. And a part of me is angry but am I right to assume that you didn’t because it has something to do with what happened to you?”
He gave a short nod. Took a deep breath.
“Rosier’s parents were what muggles call scientists. They actually were scientists in the muggle world if the rumors are right. Rosier isn’t but he had their old labs set up. He also had dungeons.”
Hermione felt his grip tighten in her hand.
“They ran experiments. There was this bloke related to Rookwood, he invented those chairs at the ministry, you know the ones they started using in investigations? The pain levels change depending on what runes you press. They tried them over and over and we were lucky enough to be their test subjects.”
Fred scoffed. They were standing near a wooden railing. His eyes were focused somewhere far away. “I was alone in a dungeon the first two years until they took me to Rosier’s in France. They said I was lucky, that this was a real privilege. They had muggles, muggleborns, half bloods, purebloods, squibs. They ran tests on a ll of us. Wanted to see the difference. They tested potions, curses, rituals, equipment on us, the only order was to not kill us on purpose.”
“We’d experience torture, sometimes if we were lucky we were allowed out of the dungeons to serve the death eaters upstairs. Cleaning, gardening, things like that. I only got chosen once before I mouthed off and was thrown back. No more upstairs privileges for me then. Spent the rest of my time there chained up.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “And then there were the things they forced me to consult on. We had to test those on each other. They had me help with some of the theory, because they knew about Georgie’s and I’s inventions you know and figured they could use me. At some point they caught dad and I refused to use it on him, I thought they’d kill me. Instead they killed him. I think they took Georgie.”
“Oh Fred.”
“I killed them. I killed Yaxley and his French cousin and that cousin’s death eater French wife. Then I went and found Rosier upstairs but had to run before I could kill him too. I swore I would though and it's only a matter of time.”
Hermione's vision blackened and she felt herself sway. The woman’s voice grew more desperate. “Fred ----”
Fred didn’t seem to hear her.
“I swore I'd kill his family too but later found out he had no family left,” Fred laughed bitterly. The sound of a door slamming inside the house seemed to jolt him. He looked at Hermione and paled. “I’m so sorry Hermione, I didn’t mean to --- I don’t want to scare you or anything.”
Hermione’s vision cleared. The sun had fallen and the smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen. It unsettled her. “You didn’t. I’m just not well but it’s okay Fred really, thank you for trusting me.”
She stood on her toes to kiss his forehead. His hands moved around her waist and they began a slow walk to the house.
There were no more kisses that night, each lost in memories of dungeons and nightmares. Instead they stood close as if proximity could erase all of that. They went back inside. They lit a fire in her bedroom to escape all loud noises downstairs. They held each other close.
“I won’t let them take you,” Fred whispered in her ear. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe from here on out. You’re muggleborn and some of the things they did . . . Some of the things they were planning for you all. . . I won’t let them. I’ll keep you safe, Hermione. I swear.”
Hermione, having already taken her nightly potions and feeling the world begin to spin around her, simply nodded into his chest. “I’ll keep you safe too, Fred. I promise.”
"Is it too soon to say I love you? Because I think I do."
His eyes lit up when she grinned. "I love you too Fred, too soon or not."
Marguerite did not trust this Fred Weasley with her great-granddaughter's safety.