Chapter Text
August 25, 1994
If you had asked him, Fred wouldn’t have been able to tell you the exact moment he started to appreciate all things muggle but he knew without a doubt that his appreciation for muggle denims started the moment Hermione walked up to their group while waiting to leave for the portkey.
Her hair was pulled onto her head with her wand securing the curls as she smiled at Harry and Ron, laughing at something the former had said. Fred watched as she shook her head and rolled her eyes in a playful way that was so unique to the witch. Hermione had always been a pretty girl but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out when she’d gotten so… beautiful.
“You alright there, Freddie?” George asked, watching him knowingly and Fred pulled his gaze from the witch and looked at his twin.
He nodded once. “Perfect, Georgie.”
He didn’t elaborate on his fixation like he knew his twin wanted and instead, started following everyone as they made their way into the forest to grab the portkey. Lost in his thoughts, he glanced around and noted Harry and Ron walking together at the front of the group and looked around to see if he could find her. At the back of the group, she walked slowly, staring up into the trees.
Fred bent over, pretending to need to tie his shoe and waited until she got closer before standing. Falling into step beside her, he couldn’t help but feel her presence with every fiber of his being. It was a true warmth that only came from someone as bright as the sun. A description that fit Hermione perfectly.
“Are we too much for you already, Granger?” Fred asked, breaking the silence before smiling.
She looked up at him with those wide brown eyes and shook her head. “What? No! Ron and Harry only want to discuss quidditch and there’s only so much of that I can take.”
He looked down at her and chuckled. “Well, you kind of are on the way to the quidditch world cup.”
She rolled her eyes but he could see the faint smile on her face. “Don’t remind me.”
They walked in silence for a moment before Fred glanced at her and smirked. “Would you mind the company of a different Weasley then? Perhaps a devilishly handsome twin?”
“I think George is busy.”
He looked at her in shock and barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. “Someone alert The Prophet ! Hermione Granger made a joke!”
“I make jokes!”
“None that I’ve seen.”
She shook her head and pushed on his shoulder. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”
He laughed and nodded. “I bet you are, Granger. Since it appears I must be blunt with you, would you mind if I walked with you? Or would you prefer to be alone?”
She seemed to think for a moment before looking up at him and those brown eyes stole his breath not for the first time that day. “That depends.”
“On what?” He managed to choke out, praying he didn’t sound as affected as he was definitely feeling.
“On if you can carry a conversation that doesn’t include quidditch or pranks of any kind?”
He looked ahead of them and caught George’s eye, his twin giving him a silent push. He looked back down at the girl beside him and making sure that all humor in his tone was gone, he leaned in slightly. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”
July 24, 2002
Nothing hurt worse than being buried alive under the rubble of the castle as time stood still, the battle still raging on around him, forgotten long ago by the people who still fought for their lives. At least that’s what Fred had thought before he went through his first transformation. With the rise of the full moon, his bones popped and cracked, his skin tore as his body stretched anc formed into the undeniable evidence of his furry little problem.
Four years later and as he lay on the stone floor of the basement in his cottage, he knew he would have gladly taken the rubble. The pain was no longer something that surprised him. It still hurt like a fucking bitch but he’d grown used to the pain that came with his status. He opened his eyes and the early morning sun was shining through the small sliver of a window. The door to the basement opened and George poked his head in.
“You decent?” His twin called out, hesitant to take a step into the room before Fred was ready after one too many mornings after the full moon getting snapped at by the irritated werewolf.
Granted most of those had been in the early months of his Lycanthropy but luckily, George was a quick learner.
Fred sat up slowly, pulling a blanket over his exposed bottom half and took stock of the fresh injuries. His right ankle was swollen and colored a dark blue and purple. “Yeah. Think I did something to my ankle. Looks a little worse for wear.”
George slowly made his way into the basement and with a flourish of his wand, he undid the wards on Fred’s cage. “Probably broke or sprained it. You sounded more restless than usual last night. You sounded awful if I’m honest.” Fred ground his teeth together as George lightly touched his ankle, barely absorbing the words his brother just said as he muttered an Episkey and his ankle snapped back into place. “I’m gonna have to just put some dittany on these new scratches. At least you managed to avoid your face still.”
“Can’t lose my streak now, can I? Four years I’ve managed to go. Can’t deform my beautiful face now.” He chuckled even though every muscle in his body screamed at him. He needed a shower, his bed, and about a week's worth of sleep. He looked over the basement cage, looking for his pants when his gaze finally snapped to George’s. “Wait. Did you just say you were here all night?”
George at least had the decency to look ashamed but he nodded nonetheless. “Your transformations are getting worse. Even with the wolfsbane. I knew last night was going to be hard for you. I wasn’t just going to leave you here! What if you had seriously hurt yourself, Freddie?”
Fred scoffed and pushed up from the ground, pulling on his pants as his body hurt to the point the need to vomit rolled through him. “Then you would have patched me up like you insist on doing every morning, like you always do.” He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. “Fuck! You know how dangerous it is for you to be here on the full moon!”
“Sirius does it for Remus!” George’s face was a red that rivaled Ron’s, but Fred didn’t back down. George could get mad but the wolf in Fred was worse.
“Sirius is Remus’ mate! And not to mention a bloody animagus!” Fred walked around George and up the stairs into the kitchen. It was only eight in the morning but he needed a drink. And considering it took him at least three large bottles of Ogden’s finest to get him buzzed, one glass was a mere comfort for him at this point.
“I’m an animagus too, you know. You just won’t get over yourself long enough to remember that fact every month.” George said as he fell into the seat across the table from Fred. “And I’m your twin, I may not be your mate but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t do anything to me.”
Fred swallowed the burning liquid in his mouth and rolled his eyes before pouring himself another two fingers. “‘Pretty sure’ gets you killed or worse, you end up like me.”
Before George could respond, the fireplace in the living room roared to life and seconds later, Sirius Black strolled into the kitchen. His long curly black hair still down to his shoulders but with a few more grey hairs, his outfit as posh as ever, and a devious smile on his face.
“A bit early to be drinking, don't you think?” Sirius asked as he grabbed the bottle from the table.
Fred was quick to snatch it back with a growl of frustration. “For you, yes. For me, this whole bottle wouldn’t do anything so I’ll enjoy it as I see fit. When I see fit.”
Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender and took a seat next to George. “How’s Remus this morning? Last night seems to have been hard.”
Sirius looked confused as he looked between the two brothers. “He’s asleep. He slept most of the night as well but the transformation always takes it out of him at the end of the night.”
“Really? This one was a proper fright all night. Thought I was going to have to go down there and add more cushioning charms to the walls.” George looked over at Fred, his brows furrowed.
Sirius cocked his head and Fred knew what question or revelation was coming by the look in his eyes and he stood quickly, muttering something about going to take a shower before telling both of them to get out. He didn’t need that line of questioning right now. Especially from someone that knew all too well the severity of the answers.
He threw open the shower door and turned the water on scalding before standing under the punishing pressure. The hot water soothed his aching joints and as he always did the morning after a full moon, Fred allowed himself the duration of the shower, all thirty minutes, to imagine what life would have been like if he had never been bitten. If he wasn’t such a coward and allowed himself to go after the one thing that would make his transformations easier. If he had never walked away from that argument in his seventh year. If he had just told her.
Even through his short lived pity party, Fred finished his shower and turned off the water, shutting off the thoughts that plagued him more often than he wanted to ever admit. There was no future in living in the ‘what ifs’ of his life and he knew now that he needed to do something about it. He just didn’t know where to start.
George watched as his twin walked up the stairs to the second floor of the cottage and disappeared before the sound of his bedroom door closing echoed back to them. He ran a hand through his hair and stood from the table. He needed to get back to hsi flat to sleep at least thirty minutes before Hermione showed up.
Sirius still sat at the table, staring at a spot on the stairs. He looked torn before he turned to George. “Has your brother mentioned anything about a mate?”
George stilled and looked at the animagus with confusion. “A mate? No.”
Sirius stood from the table and nodded. “Well, I’ll need to talk to Remus but…I think Fred may have a mate and if my theory is correct, he knows who it is.”
Without another word to George, the man walked out of the kitchen and within seconds, the floo whisked him away to his home. George was left standing dumbfounded in the kitchen, already knowing there was no way in hell he was getting those thirty minutes of sleep he desperately needed.
Hermione walked into work and immediately noticed the tired and slumped state of her best friend. George sat behind the counter and from her spot at the door, she could tell he was barely keeping his eyes open.
“Morning, George.” She said as she dropped her bag behind the counter and smiled at the red head straightening up in his seat. “Rough night?”
He returned the smile but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Morning, ‘Mione. Looking forward to your last day behind this counter?”
She rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head. When Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts after returning for her eighth year after the war, she had been dead set on working for the ministry. Even through a war, she still wore the rose colored glasses about the ministry and wanted more than anything to take the challenge and make some change. It only took her a few months to see that that had been a colossal mistake. After years of fighting politicians backed by donors with bottomless pits of galleons for pockets and red tape that seemed to duplicate the moment she removed one piece, she realized the fight was never one she was going to accomplish. At least not until some major changes came to the ministry. Which wasn’t going to happen until more of her generation took over their seats on the Wizengamot. So, she decided to stop killing herself and quit. It was quite the uproar among the public.
A month later and without a single idea of what she wanted to do with her life, a saving grace in the form of a red headed Weasley came knocking with a temporary offer she couldn’t refuse. Working with George at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes gave her the opportunity to live her life while doing something she found out she loved. It also allowed her to have the open mind when she received the letter from Hogwarts’ Headmistress offering her the position of the new Transfiguration professor. With an open mind and the encouragement of George and the rest of her friends, she had accepted immediately.
Now, she couldn’t be more excited to work at Hogwarts and teach the newest classes of witches and wizards but she also was heartbroken to be leaving George alone.
She gave a small smile. “I am. But I’m still-”
“No. Stop it. I knew when I offered you the job that it would be temporary. You may love working here and you know I love having my sister in every way but blood work with me but you belong in that castle, Hermione.” He shrugged with a signature smirk on his face. “Plus it’s not like you’ll never see me again. We both know you can’t resist my beautiful face.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I just worry. You were scrambling when Fred left… I feel like I’m doing the same thing. Abandoning you.”
He shook his head and the smile dropped from his face. “You aren’t and neither did he. We’ve been over this, Hermione.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Fred apparently still worked with George on almost every aspect of the shops and creating new products for them to sell. He was just now a background component, leaving George to be the face of their company. George didn’t consider what Fred did to be abandoning him and Hermione knew that. But it didn’t stop her from feeling like Fred had abandoned her . Which was silly considering they hadn’t spoken for a year before he vanished. She worried the inside of her lip and glanced around the store. “How is he?”
“He’s fine.” His answer is short and with the tone of finality. George was done talking about his brother.
Hermione wasn’t even sure George would tell her anything different if Fred wasn’t fine. For four years, he had been the only contact she and the Weasley’s had with Fred. George was the only one he was willing to see and for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out why. At first, they all pestered George to tell them more, to give them something but he wouldn’t budge. After a while though, all of them just accepted that Fred didn’t want to be bothered. They all had dealt with the effects of the war differently and they couldn’t begrudge Fred if he needed time away from everything after what they had all been through. At least he had the consciousness to have George let them know he was ‘fine’.
Hermione knew though. She knew there was more to the story than George was letting on but she had no proof so she wouldn’t bring it up with him. Since Fred left, George and her had become attached at the hip. Closer friends than she was with Ron and Harry these days. So she knew he wasn’t always telling her the whole truth, or even part of it, but it wasn’t her place to make him. If he wanted to, he would.
“Alright. Well, I’m going to start brewing in the back.” She told him and he nodded.
“When Verity gets here, I’m gonna go up and sleep for a while. I didn’t get much last night.” He said as she walked back and she gave a hum of approval.
As she walked into the workroom, she gathered her things and set them at her work station before pulling out the calendar from the drawer. Flipping through the months, she got to July and added a star just like she had the previous month. The same indicator showing George being exhausted the morning after the full moon.
Every month.
For years.