I Open at the Close [Hermione]

"You need to get out of the house, Freddy, sitting in is no good for you! Up! Out!" Mum had been urging the same thing for weeks now, but Fred hadn't been very inclined to listen. He knew, deep down, that his mother was right... even if she was only saying it so that maybe she could get a moment alone. His poor mother had been through more than anyone should have; she'd lost one son, another had a new proclivity for extra raw meat, and countless friends had fallen dead in a matter of hours during a battle over over a boy, a prophecy, and a no-nose snake's inability to just let it go. 

Fred, of course, harbored no hard feelings when it came to Harry. Harry was a hero. He'd sacrificed himself in an effort to save his friends... his life had been granted back to him for a reason and Fred understood that. Still, that didn't change the fact that things were different now. The threat was gone, but new issues had arisen. Now the main cause of concern was the 'how' of it all; how would everyone rebuild their lives? How did you get up and brush yourself off when everything had been taken away from you?

The elder Weasley twin knew that they'd all manage. The lost souls would be held in their hearts and their thoughts, immortalized in all the ways the wizarding world gave them access to... they'd never be forgotten, but they would be glazed over as time passed in favor of a happy existence and a chance to laugh and smile about the dead instead of cry over them. More than anyone else, Fred knew the healing power of a laugh, and he was looking forward to the time when he was capable of mustering up a genuine one again. 

Still, he'd taken his mother's advice. Finally. Clambering down the stairs from his and George's shared apartment to the attached joke shop with an already tattered crutch under one arm and the familiar and still steady ache in his ankle, Fred looked around. The noise in the place was almost deafening as always, machines whirring and children laughing as they played with pygmy puffs and knick knacks they'd beg their parents to buy. He felt better, if only a bit, just being here in the heart of the action. 

Giving a wave to one of the regulars with a grin, Fred limped his way over to the register to help out a bit. He was in the middle of a transaction with a very-pleased-looking teen when the bell upon the door jingled at him, a wordless greeting from the person who'd stepped inside. Glancing up out of sheer habit, (and slight paranoia, which still hadn't quite faded) Fred's eyes widened. "Hermione. Blimey, I didn't expect to see you 'round 'ere. What can I do you for?" 

Fred did his best to sound jovial, but he knew Hermione had to be just as wounded as he was - at least emotionally. She had cared for Ron on a level that Fred was grateful he'd never felt. Her affections had been of equal quantity, but different quality to his own for his youngest brother. Trying on his smile for size, he finished up the sale and hobbled towards her. "You're looking good for a girl who spent months on the run. How've you been?"

CODED BY DELL AT BTN:V5

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Getting out was the key.

Being out and about was distracting, and wonderfully so, as Hermione navigated her way through Diagon Alley with a shopping list in hand. While ordinarily she might have been peeved that she was sent out for supplies for her best friend (after all, what was she, a personal servant?), as of late she understood. And was willing to do so. Plus it was a means to do what she felt she did best: taking care of someone, and even the war hadn’t taken that from her. Being a mother hen was what Hermione had developed into, and likely what she would stay as for the rest of her life. It kept her busy, it gave her purpose, and it gave her a role to fill in which she could be herself.

Not that she’d felt much like herself lately, a mere shell of what she’d been before the war had taken Ron from her. Hermione had cared so deeply about him and for him, more deeply than she would ever admit out loud, and his loss had been nothing short of utterly devastating. Not only was it a loss, but it signified a failure. She hadn’t been good enough to save him, or help him, or get to him in time. And because of that, Ron had been killed.

It did absolutely nothing for her nerves when she was confronted with a massive store with the sign ‘Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’ during her musings, and for a moment, Hermione stared. Ever since the direct aftermath of the battle, she’d been avidly avoiding the Weasley family and turned around and hid the second she saw a splotch of red hair in her vision. Nine times out of ten it wasn’t even one of them, but part of her just couldn’t bear it. What if they did blame her? They had every right to. And she was fairly positive that if they did blame her, and screamed at her for being at fault, she wasn’t entirely certain that she could take it. And yet… did she not owe them? Owe them her company, in a time of grief? Even if it ended up hurting her in the end, maybe this was better. And the joke shop that the twins ran might be a decent place to start.

Call her a masochist, but that was essentially the reason Hermione went in. The groceries for Harry, who likely wouldn’t eat anything she bought anyway, could wait for a little while. She needed to see at least some branch of the Weasley family, perhaps offer her condolences, see if they needed anything. After all, it was what former boyfriends and girlfriends did, wasn’t it? If one could even say that Hermione had been Ron’s girlfriend, considering the relationship had perhaps lasted all of two hours before he was murdered. Excellent track record to start off with, she mused bitterly, but then the grief hit right after like a ton of bricks.

No, none of that now, she thought as she struggled to shove the emotions down. She’d deal with them later. Hermione nudged her way through the door, the bell jingling above her, as she entered the store. Bustling and crowded as always – she had to dodge two boisterous children as they dashed around her and out the door onto the streets. This isolated little area made it seem like the war had never happened, and she marveled at it.

Her thought process was cut short by a greeting. Hermione looked up, resisting the urge to flinch as she’d expected them to scream for her to get out and never come back, but the reception she received was no such thing. Normally, the twins might have been impossible to tell apart, but as this particular twin came hobbling over on a crutch, Hermione immediately knew who it was. ”Hello, Fred,” she replied, herself attempting a lighthearted response but essentially failing. But she could at least put on a face, and smiled back, even if it was a little forced. ”I was just stopping by, to see how things were going. And I see that the business is booming, as always.” And that was, more or less, the truth.

At the compliment, however, Hermione managed to quirk an eyebrow, and the smile that graced her expression was, for once, a genuinely amused one. ”And you look awfully spritely for someone who ought to be on bedrest,” she quipped right back in response, managing to avoid the question that would surely reduce her to tears if she was going to be honest. ”Are you being intentionally reckless or do you just need constant supervision?” The question was teasing, as teasing as she could be in the state she was in.

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FRED | 749 | And    sassy    Mione    makes    an    appearance.

Loki

Immediately Fred could see that Hermione was forcing herself as much as he was. If they'd been in private he would have dropped the act entirely, but the busy shop around them forced him to keep up appearances. He wanted to hug Hermione, but his lack of balance and the feeling that he'd lose control of his emotions if he so much as brushed a strand of hair from her eyes prevented that. His smile grew, pushed forward with even more force than before. 

"Booming is a word, yeah." He agreed, peering around at the crowded shop. The noise was nearly unbearable, honestly, forcing him to raise his voice up just a bit louder to be heard. He ran his free hand through his red hair - hair he was fairly certain would go grey with age faster than his father's ever had if things kept up this way. He loved his work and his life, but stress still wore on him. 

Fred actually had to grin when Hermione's expression softened in a more genuine way. It seemed that seeing actual joy in others he cared about was almost as good as having everything back to normal.

Hermione was like an older sister to him in theory, if not in age. She had all of Percy's studious and sometimes annoying rational habits with a bit of Bill and Charlie's old cool factor mixed in. It helped too that she often had no qualms about scolding him and George when they'd stepped out of line... most people just kept their mouths shut. Fred respected Hermione entirely, even if he didn't show it. 

Looking a little bashful, the redhead grinned down at his feet and shook his head, shrugging a bit. "Isn't as bad as it looks, Granger. Just got tired of drinking the potions and laying up in bed. Besides, Mum'll have my head if she hears I've stayed cooped up any longer."If anyone knew Mrs. Weasley as well as one of her children, if was Hermione. She'd seen every side of the Weasley Matriarch that there was to see; and Fred had a feeling she secretly enjoyed all of it. Fred could see why; in his younger years his mother howling at everyone was a rather comical site. Now it was just beginning to get sad. 

"Well yeah, I suppose by most standards i need constant supervision, but what fun would that be?" The boy teased, shifting his weight to lean almost entirely on the crutch. It buckled momentarily beneath him and he nearly tripped, catching himself at the last moment with a slightly startled laugh. "Wow, okay. Trying to be smooth with broken bones isn't as easy as it looks, you may have to forgive me." 

Smoothing out his hair again, Fred sighed and straightened up as much as he could. "Look, why don't we head back up to the apartment. I think this place is covered well enough and I could use the company of someone who isn't blood. I'm getting a bit tired of the red hair and freckles hovering at my bedside. If you haven't got anywhere to be, that is." It was a nervous demand disguised as a request; he knew Hermione well enough to know what that he just needed an old friend, and knew her well enough to know she probably wouldn't turn him down. And if she did? No hard feelings, really. Fred could understand. "C'mon."

Turning on his heel, the wounded warrior started the trek back towards the horribly daunting stairs back to his and George's apartment. He'd made it up the first one before peeking back at Hermione with a grin. "Watch your head when you come in. Shelves are hanging a little low. You wouldn't want to know what happens if that merchandise falls. Heck, I don't even want to know what happens." 

CODED BY DELL AT BTN:V5

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”You make it sound like there’s another word you’d use,” Hermione observed, a flicker of genuine amusement flashing across her features. For a split second, she could almost believe that nothing had ever happened, that the war had never occurred and that nobody had died. But upon seeing the force behind Fred’s smile and the crutch on which he hobbled, the reality came crashing back in without invitation. Fred was hurt, his twin had been injured earlier in the war, and Ron was… she could hardly bear to think about it – one utterance of the word, even mentally, would surely send her spiraling into pieces. Struggling to maintain a reasonable composure, Hermione forced herself to focus.

Seeing Fred grin, looking bashful, it made it slightly easier. She was actually able to genuinely smile, though whether or not it was a smirk could probably be up for grabs. Hermione folded her arms across her chest, ”For some reason, the idea of you being willingly cooped up for any amount of time is baffling to me.”

However, in a way, it almost wasn’t, not under these circumstances. Fred had lost a brother, nearly two, in this war, in which she had also lost a best friend and… well, a boyfriend. If Hermione didn’t have a drive or a need to have a purpose every second of every day, she likely would have been lounging about at Hogwarts, hiding in her dormitory and never coming out, not even for food. Not that she was ever hungry these days anyway. Food turned to ash in her mouth, and it was fairly obvious she only ate what was necessary from the way she was rapidly losing weight. But her body just didn’t want food any longer, she was never hungry. When she was, she choked down what little she could manage.

She could only imagine how Fred felt under these emotional circumstances. Though from the expression on his face, she could just imagine Mrs. Weasley chewing down on him for staying in bed. But Hermione pushed those images out of her head too. She’d been avoiding the Weasley family for a reason, the matriarch she wanted to avoid most of all. It was Hermione’s fault her youngest son had died, that he’d suffered what was probably a painful death. Seeing others’ grief only made it that much worse in herself, knowing her failure was causing so many others so much pain.

At the teasing, Hermione actually managed a quiet chuckle, a real one, and she opened her mouth to respond when he nearly fell. When he stumbled, she immediately moved forward, her brown eyes flashing in concern as she reached out to help steady him. There was no need to getting injured on her account. ”Already forgiven. Perhaps you should just be more careful and we’ll call it a day,” she said mildly.

The invitation startled the eighteen-year old more than it ought to have, and it showed in the surprise that sparked in her expression and the widening of her eyes. The thought that any Weasley might actually want her around during this difficult time was bewildering at least, frightening at most. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was in for, but she couldn’t see a way that she could or should decline. She did have grocery shopping, but that could wait for just a little while. Harry wasn’t going to starve, she was sure, and it was highly unlikely he’d eat anything she brought back anyway – he was virtually in the same state as her, if not worse.

So, without much other thought, she nodded wordlessly and followed Fred closely, she didn’t trust herself to speak. A part of her was scared for what he might want. Could this be the tongue-lashing she had been preparing to receive, their blame coming down to smite her and wipe her from their family associations because of what she’d done? Fred had seemed friendly so far, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry. After all, he couldn’t just start howling at her in a store full of his own customers, now could he? In nervous, almost jerky movements, she followed him, and almost didn’t hear his warning about the shelf until it was nearly too late. She quirked an eyebrow up at him.

”Yes, I’d rather avoid an incident like the punching telescope,” she commented in that dry voice of hers that was almost identical to one she might have used before the war. Before tragedy had struck. But then concern kicked in as she made to follow him up the stairs. ”Do you need any help?” she questioned in genuine concern. ”Would you rather I’d gone first?”

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Fred Weasley | Hope   this   is   all   okay!

Loki

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. "It's certainly one of the words I'd use, but there are at least half a dozen others that are equally fitting. Crazy's one. Rewarding, another... though that definitely takes second priority to anything that speaks to the activity around here." The redhead rubbed the back of his neck. He really loved the insanity around here, it was a reminder that not everything was bad in the world and that was what he wanted right now.It was really what everyone needed right now. With everyone gearing up to start their new leases on life, optimism was higher in demand than it was in supply. The Weasley brothers were in the business of fixing that.

With Hermione following him, Fred simply shook his head and shrugged a bit. "Don't worry about it, it's better I head in first anyway. Someone to catch me if I fall." He was just teasing, for the most part. He'd done these steps a million and one times with the crutch already - he wasn't too concerned about tripping and falling. Not when he was so seasoned a veteran. Fred had taken his lumps over the years - it came with the territory of inventing new potions and spells. Truthfully, his own experiences were the very reasons he and George had stopped testing their own products. That's what first years had been for - something Hermione had yelled at the twins for for quite some time.


"That punching telescope went rather lightly on you, I'd wager, Hermione. You should've seen what it did to Lee when he came to blows with it." Fred chuckled, reaching the top of the stairs and letting them into the apartment. "Sorry about the state of the place. Haven't cleaned." It was a half-assed apology at best, because Fred wasn't about to be sorry for living comfortably in his own place. Hermione was probably used to boys and the way they lived - he imagined she wouldn't be surprised about that, either.

"Georgie's out, not sure where he's gone to be quite honest. I'm sure he'll turn up eventually. In the meantime, d' ya want a bit of tea? Should still be hot on the stove." Fred was worried about Hermione - she wasn't looking well, especially not once she'd gotten out of the store and into the privacy of the place. She looked almost sick - too thin, too worried, aging faster than she should. Fred still wanted to hug her. She looked like she needed it.

Wringing his hands in front of him, Fred leaned his crutch against the wall and hobbled to the couch, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. "We've been worried about you, 'Mione. Haven't heard from you... we never don't hear from you. You're pretty good at keeping in touch... what have you been up to?" He asked slowly, nervously, breathing deeply at every chance. "You know we're all here... if you need us, please tell us. Me. Anyone."

It felt so strange, to have to be so serious. His whole life had been a running joke and now reality hit him like a brick. Finally Fred could show his other colors - the ones where caring and love for his family and friends shone through without distraction from his perpetually playful state. "You've always done a lot for my family, I just think it's time to return the favor."

CODED BY DELL AT BTN:V5

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Hermione observed the Weasley twin, his words perking her interest as she tried to decipher what, exactly, his words were meant to mean. Her lips pressed together, but only in contemplation. ”It must be difficult for you,” she observed, though she didn’t mean it in a condescending manner. In general, everything was hard right now. She honestly couldn’t imagine having such a successful and busy business in the midst of all that was going on right now. On top of the grief that she knew they were both feeling? Impossible. ”But something tells me you enjoy it anyway.” Even though he’d often stirred up trouble about his merchandise when he and George had been in school, Hermione had always been perfectly aware how much this place meant to the both of them.

It was good, healthy even, she supposed, to have something like this to focus on. Hermione had no such projects to keep her mind off things, though seeing the store, she started to wonder if that might actually be a good idea. As of right now, her main project was trying to get Harry back on his feet, but they were both so twisted in caught up in their grief that even she couldn’t tell the best way to do that right now. Maybe Fred and George had more to teach her than she’d ever originally thought.

His teasing worked, to some extent. ”If you fall, I can’t promise how much help I’ll be. We might both end up breaking our necks,” she said, feigning her own sense of teasing, even though there wasn’t much force behind it. The punching telescope incident, though having been almost two years before, still had her a little bitter from time to time. Not necessarily because Fred and George had left such things lying around (though she definitely didn’t approve) but because she should have known better. Half of it was her own fault. ”Lucky me,” was the dry response to the idea that it could do even worse damage.

She followed Fred into his apartment but waved off the apology – she could tell it was half-hearted anyway and even if it hadn’t been, it mattered not to Hermione. Several months on the run with two teenage boys? Hermione had just about seen it all and cleaned up it all, so a little mess in the twins’ flat was hardly anything to her. As long as they didn’t expect her to take care of them and clean the entire place from top to bottom, she couldn’t care less. This was their home, and she was a guest. Given the state of things, she doubted that she could ever have the heart to criticize either of them anyway. Just about everything right now was excusable.

At the offer of tea, Hermione immediately shook her head, it was barely perceptible. She didn’t want to be an inconvenience, now more than ever, and found herself unable to ask for anything. After all, Hermione owed the Weasley family fare more than they would ever owe her – she was responsible for the death of one of their own. She didn’t see how they could forgive her for that, or fret over her when there was no need. ”Thank you for the offer, though,” she said quietly.

Hermione flashed him a look of confusion, and even a little bit of panic, because she had absolutely no idea what to do with his sudden seriousness, or the words he was saying. He was catching her off guard in more ways than one. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d come into Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, but it definitely hadn’t been this. ”I’ve been…” How was she even supposed to answer? ”Busy.” It was a horrid excuse, and she nearly choked on the word, not to mention it was a blatant lie. ”You nor your family owes me anything. If there’s anything you want to debate, don’t argue with that. Please. You’ve… suffered a, a horrible loss.” She choked on the words. ”If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, I’ll do it.” In that, at least, she was resolute.

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Fred Weasley | *sniffles*

Loki