Old Books and Firecrackers: Chapter XII

A Harry Potter Fanfic

Aftermath

“But how did you survive that wall falling on you?” Ron asked. Fred shrugged and took another sip of his pumpkin juice.

He and George had decided to close the shop for a couple weeks after the battle and were staying back at the Burrow. Everyone was still adjusting to going back to normal. There were many they were still mourning, but they had all decided they needed to spend time with just family. Family including Harry and Hermione, of course.

“Is it really that important?” George asked. Fred glanced at him suspiciously.

The subject of Fred’s miraculous survival had come up often over the past couple of days, but George had changed the subject every time. So far no one else seemed to have noticed.

“Well, yeah!” Ron said. “I mean, being able to survive a massive impact like that, that would be amazing!”

“Aren’t you curious, George?” Ginny asked as she came into the room. She found Harry and stood behind his chair, putting her arms around his neck.

“Not really.” George inspected his bottle of pumpkin juice, wiping a speck of dust off it.

“Surely you must be!” Ron insisted.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to think about it,” Hermione hissed, elbowing Ron’s leg from the floor where she sat knitting.

Fred was still watching George. He was acting rather strange. Almost as if he knew how Fred had survived. But that was impossible, unless–

Apparently Ginny had reached a similar conclusion. “Do you already know how it happened?” she asked.

Fred opened his mouth to change the subject, but George answered before he had the chance. “Alright, fine. Yes, I know how he survived.”

Ron leaned forward in his chair. “How?”

“Is it a new product you’ve been developing?” Harry asked.

“No, I just charmed the wall not to weigh much,” George said. “So when it fell, it wouldn’t hurt him.”

Ron frowned. “But you weren’t there, so you would have had to do it before. How did you know to do it?” They were getting into dangerous waters.

“I knew it would fall on him,” George admitted.

What was he doing? They had agreed never to tell anyone about their ability to see the future, which had finally returned the day before, without discussing it first.

Fred kicked him, but George ignored it. Fred kicked him again.

“But how did you know?” Ron asked impatiently.

Now George looked at Fred, giving him the slightest hint of a wink. Fred relaxed and took another sip of his drink.

“Because Hermione can see the future,” George said.

Fred snorted up a large amount of pumpkin juice and began coughing. George, without bothering to look at him, slapped him on the back. Hermione looked up from her knitting and gaped at George.

“She told me a couple years ago that she had seen the wall falling on top of Fred, and, well I obviously didn’t want that to happen, so I charmed it in case she was right, and it turns out she was. I just didn’t anticipate him being stunned,” George continued.

Hermione looked ready to protest, but Fred didn’t want her ruining the joke yet.

“Wait,” Fred interrupted. “Does that mean your other predictions will come true too, Hermione?” George snickered.

“I never made any–”

Fred turned to George in excitement. “Dad’s going to get a promotion!” When their gift of prophesy returned, that had been the first thing Fred had seen.

Ron was practically hanging out of his chair. “Wait, really?”

Fred shrugged. “I mean, if Hermione can really predict the future . . .”

“Blimey, Hermione,” Ron said. “Why didn’t you ever tell us you can see the future?”

“Because I can’t!” she insisted.

“No need to be modest,” George said. “Your predictions came true so far. They’ll most likely continue doing so.” He flashed her a bright smile and she glared.

“That would have been good to know all last year,” Harry said.

“I CAN’T SEE THE FUTURE!”

The argument lasted a good ten minutes. When everyone was ready to go to bed, Hermione stopped Fred and George on their way up the stairs.

“What was that for?” she asked.

George grinned. “I thought it would be funny.”

“Now they’re all going to be mad at me when your dad doesn’t get a promotion!”

“Or they’re going to be really happy with you when he does,” Fred said with a wink. Hermione glared and he laughed. “Good night, Hermione.”

When they got to their room, Fred’s grin faded. “How long did you know?”

George didn’t look at him. “Two years. Like I said. I wasn’t–I wasn’t sure if it would work and I couldn’t tell you.”

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t imagine what that must have been like.

“Not your fault,” George said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you all for letting me stay,” Hermione said a few days later when she had finished breakfast. “But I–I should go home now.” Fred looked up; she seemed nervous.

“Oh, dear,” Fred’s mum said, getting up to go hug her. “We will miss you. I hope you aren’t leaving on our account.”

Hermione shook her head. “I need to go home.”

“Do you want us to go with you?” Ron asked. Judging by his and Harry’s expressions, they knew what had happened to Hermione’s parents now.

She shook her head again. “I want to see them by myself.”

Fred waited until after everyone had said their goodbyes and she went upstairs to pack and then knocked on Ginny’s door.

“Come in.” She glanced up from her trunk when he walked in. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you were Ginny.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t think you should go by yourself. I want to go with you.” She started to protest, but he held up his hand to stop her. “I’ll leave when we get there, but I don’t think you should travel to a new country alone.”

She scooped up some of her robes and began folding them. “You’re right.” He blinked, surprised by how easily she agreed. She looked up. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes if that’s alright with you.” He nodded and went back downstairs.

He found his mum in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast.

“I’m going with Hermione to see her parents. I won’t be gone long,” he said, grabbing a towel and drying some of the plates she had just washed.

“She didn’t sound like she wanted anyone to go,” his mum said.

“I’m just dropping her off. She said it was fine.”

She finished with the dishes and turned around to hug him. “Alright. Be careful. Both of you.”

“We will.”

“Fred?” Hermione called from the hall.

He dropped the towel on the counter. “Coming!” He came and took her hand. “You know where we’re going?” She nodded and they disapparated.

They appeared a short distance from a small town and Hermione led him to a small house in silence. She hesitated at the driveway.

“This is it?” Fred asked and she nodded. “I think you should knock,” he said when she didn’t move.

She bit her lip. “What if they aren’t here?” she whispered.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Then we’ll find them.” She nodded and stepped up to the porch.

She hesitated again. “They’re going to be so mad at me.” Fred gave a slight smile and knocked before stepping out of the way.

The door opened to reveal a dark-haired woman. He had only met her once before, but Fred recognized her as Mrs. Granger.

“Hello? Who are you?” the woman asked.

It was disconcerting seeing the blank stare she gave both of them. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to Hermione.

“May–may I speak to you and your husband, please?” Hermione asked.

A man’s face appeared in the door as well. “Yes? What do you need?”

Hermione pulled out her wands and waved it at them, muttering a spell. A look of shock and confusion dawned on their faces.

“Her–Hermione?” Mrs. Granger said, stepping forward. “What–how–you look so old! What happened to you?” Hermione threw herself into their arms.

Fred took a few steps away, not wanting to disapparate without Hermione knowing, but not wanting to intrude on the conversation either.

He could still hear them until he remembered a spell Harry had mentioned that might help.

“Muffliato,” he muttered, pointing his wand at himself. He wasn’t sure if you were supposed to use it on yourself, but it seemed to work. A quiet buzzing filled his ears and he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He looked around, admiring the flowers the Grangers had been growing, the clouds, and the weather that day. He also wondered how muggles kept away the gnomes.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he noticed Hermione waving to get his attention. She waved her wand and muttered a spell before the buzzing faded from his ears.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I figured it was private.”

She forced a smile. Her eyes were red and she seemed on the verge of crying again. Her parents looked the same way. He was about to say he was leaving when Mr. Granger interrupted.

“You’re the Weasley boy, aren’t you? Ron?”

Fred grinned. “That’s my brother. I’m Fred.” He shook Mr. Granger’s hand.

“Oh, yes. I remember you. I apologize for mistaking you for your brother. It’s just–it’s been a while.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mrs. Granger was studying him curiously. “Thank you for coming with Hermione, but I didn’t realize–that is, I wasn’t aware you two were very, erm, close.”

Fred’s face grew hot. He shouldn’t have come. He should have stayed at home. It must be weird enough for them to get all their memories back and realize they had missed three years of their daughter’s life without her also bringing a boy home.

He forced a smile. “We weren’t really last time we met.”

“Oh. What changed?” He got the sense she was grasping for a somewhat normal topic.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to answer that. Hermione had gone from one of his little brother’s best friends to one of his without him realizing it. He glanced at Hermione to see if she had an answer and realized she was barely holding back tears. She was probably waiting until he left. He should have gone sooner.

He grinned at Mrs. Granger. “I’m not entirely sure, but her saving my life probably helped.”

The effect was instantaneous. Hermione whipped around to face him, all trace of tears gone. “Fred Weasley! If you don’t stop telling people I saved your life–”

But her parents had already latched onto his words. “She saved your life? How?” Mr. Granger asked.

“See, she’s really good at divination–”

“I am not!”

“–so she saw how I was supposed to die, and my brother was able to stop it.”

“But, Hermione, I thought you told us divination doesn’t work,” Mrs. Granger said.

“It doesn’t!” Hermione huffed. “Anyone who says it does is either a con artist or has been conned themselves.”

“So which am I?” Fred asked, laughing when she frowned. He leaned over and hugged her. “I’ve got to get home. Mum’s probably waiting for me. Write soon, okay?”

She nodded and hugged him back. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He waved as she and her mother went into the house, but, to his surprise, Mr. Granger stayed out.

“Thank you for coming with her,” he said. “And thank you for–for everything you’ve done to help her when we couldn’t.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t–I mean, I–I wanted to, but there wasn’t much I could do. Ron and Harry helped her more. I couldn’t.” Fred dropped his gaze. Mr. Granger put a hand on Fred’s shoulder and Fred looked up.

“I don’t think that’s completely true,” he said with a smile. “So thank you.” Then he hugged him.

Fred stood stunned, blinking quickly. He didn’t deserve Mr. Granger’s thanks, but he didn’t know how to make him understand.

Mr. Granger let go, patted him on the shoulder, and walked back in the house. Fred stood staring at the door for a few minutes, then finally turned around and walked far enough from the town to disapparate.

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