Chapter 4

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything, and I don't make any money with this story. The idea of the Marriage Law originated at wiktt, I believe. I'm just borrowing...

a/n: This story is AU since DH.

Chapter 4

After a night full of tossing and turning in her bed, Hermione woke up late and felt more tired than before she had gone to bed. She gathered the sheets around herself and moved to sit down on the big windowsill. The window in her room faced the front of the house, and Hermione could watch the better part of the street; something she had done for hours when she was little.

Leaning her hot cheek against the cool glass, just like she had done as a young girl, she watched the street below. Everything was covered in a white layer of snow, and the icicles on the roofs sparkled in the late morning's sunshine. Hermione watched the postman walking past their neighbours' beautiful birdhouse as he delivered the mail. A car drove down the road leaving behind tire trails in the snow, and a few children were building a snowman. The street looked like a picturesque Christmas card come to life.

Hermione sighed. Years ago she would have been one of the children building that snowman. Back before she had found out she was a witch.

She closed her eyes and marvelled at the coolness emanating from the window. No, Hermione did not regret going to Hogwarts. Sometimes, however, she wanted to be that carefree, bushy-haired, little girl again, who ran around in the snow with her friends and then came home to her loving parents to warm up with a cup of hot cocoa.

Alas, Hermione's life wasn't that simple anymore. Instead, it was complicated and difficult. Hermione sighed again. She had spent hours the other night thinking about the day she had had. Nothing had gone as planned. Well, maybe it had. Everybody believed her and Fred to be a couple, that much was for sure.

They had been rather convincing. Hermione's cheeks still coloured every time she thought back to those minutes in Fred's bedroom before Ron had discovered them. No matter how hard she tried to assure herself that it had all been an act, she could not forget how very real it had felt to be with Fred.

Hermione only left her room when she was sure her parents were gone. They always opened their dental practice between Christmas and New Year as each year there were a surprising number of people who broke out a tooth on the turkey or who simply ate too many sweets and got a toothache because of it.

Her mother had left a note, though, telling Hermione that they were going to be back in the evening and that they would talk then. Of course, she would want an explanation for her daughter's unexpected visit. Hermione was not looking forward to that conversation at all. After fixing herself an early lunch, she went back to her room and got a few of her books out. Studying usually helped to divert her mind from unpleasant thoughts (or the pleasant ones she should not be thinking about).

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It was late in the evening when the Grangers finally returned to their home. There had been a vast number of emergencies, which had them occupied until well after dinnertime. Additionally, there had been a commotion during the early afternoon when their elderly receptionist, Marybeth Catherwood, got scared by an owl colliding with a closed window. Mr. Granger had immediately convinced the flustered woman (she was a self-proclaimed animal lover and worried about that "poor birdie getting hurt") to take a coffee-break with him, in order to recover from the shock, while Mrs. Granger opened the window apprehensively.

She was confirmed in her suspicion that they were dealing with a case of owl post when the old and greying Errol heaved himself into the room. Tied to his foot was a piece of parchment, which Mrs. Granger unfastened with unsteady hands. She had never quite gotten used to the other way of delivering the mail.

Once freed of his charge, Errol took off again. The elderly owl courageously threw itself out of the window and, dipping several feet (the practice was on the sixth floor) before catching a wind, flew home with slow but more or less steady flaps of its wings.

Mrs. Ganger waited for her husband to return. It did not take long until he came back into the room, telling her how Mrs. Catherwood was currently busy entertaining everyone in the waiting room with an elaborate narrative about the "shocking incident." Together, they opened the letter. It was from Mrs. Weasley and the content was of such nature that Mr. Granger wanted to drive home immediately in order to demand an explanation from his daughter. Mrs. Granger, however, convinced him to finish dealing with their patients first.

In retrospect, making Mr. Granger stay might not have been the best idea. He was, understandably, in a bad mood, and each patient entering the examination room recoiled from the dark look on his face. Nobody liked a dentist who looked as if he would delight in causing the next person to cross his path considerable amounts of pain. Although, on a positive note, all the patients who left the chair swore, with painfully contorted faces, they would take better care of their teeth from now on.

By the time the last patient finally left the practice on shaky legs, Mr. Granger's temper had reached boiling point. He and his wife hurried home to talk to their daughter.

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Hermione had spent the day in solitude. She had made a valiant effort to get some studying done, but had failed miserably. When she wasn't thinking about the Weasleys and their hurtful comments regarding her recent conduct, Hermione was reliving the cause for said anger (in detail). All in all, it hadn't been a very productive day, and Hermione awaited the arrival of her parents with trepidation.

The moment Mr. Granger stormed into the house, a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his right hand, Hermione knew Mrs. Weasley had followed through on her promise and written to her parents. She steeled herself for the confrontation.

"Young lady, explain this to me," her father demanded, brandishing the letter almost like a sword and not even bothering with a 'hello.'

Hermione shot a quick glance over her father's shoulders to see her mother enter the room after him. Though she didn't look as angry as her husband, Hermione noticed how her mother pressed her lips tightly together and knew that she couldn't expect any support from her.

"Dad, it isn't what you think."

"I certainly hope so! Because you better not have been caught in bed with a boy."

"Er..." Hermione stumbled for words. She didn't want to lie to her parents.

"Hermione!" her mother exclaimed. "Did you sleep with that boy?"

"Noooo, God no. We were just kissing... and stuff."

"You haven't even told us that you are going out with him," her mother said reproachfully.

Hermione swallowed. That was the part where she was forced to lie. She had toyed with the idea of owning up to her parents and telling them about the impending Marriage Law. However, she had decided against it.

Her parents were Muggles, and it would be difficult for them to understand how in wizarding society arranged marriages could be part of the law. This concept was contradictory to everything that Muggles considered to be Human Rights. Her parents would not understand. For what it was worth, Hermione had been a part of the wizarding world for almost seven years now, and she had trouble accepting this law.

"I have been with Fred for a few months now," Hermione lied, immediately feeling guilty because of it.

"Are you out of your mind? You used to like his brother." Her mother was visibly scandalized. "Mrs. Weasley wrote us your actions upset the whole household. What were you thinking? This is not the way we taught you to behave when you are a guest in someone's home."

"Mum, I'm sorry, but..."

"There are no buts!" Mr. Granger continued where his wife had left off. "You cannot behave like this. And that boy, Fred? Didn't you tell us he and his brother dropped out of school? That explains a lot."

"What does it explain?" Hermione asked hotly. She was on the verge of losing her control.

"Why you don't want to further your education," her mother elaborated. "We've talked to you about it on Christmas. Or at least we tried to. Why aren't you applying to universities? You have such exceptional grades. You are Head Girl. If it is that boy's influence..."

"Mum, I told you, we are at war. Don't you understand? There won't be time to go and study for some degree or diploma."

"Hermione, you are no soldier, you are a little girl. No one can force you to fight. If you would just apply to a few colleges." Mrs. Granger sounded desperate.

Hermione almost screamed in frustration. They had had this conversation multiple times during the few days she had stayed with her parents over the holidays.

She couldn't convince her parents that the wizarding world was in an actual state of war. And she certainly couldn't make them believe that she had to stand at Harry's side. Her parents turned blind and deaf when she tried to explain to them the danger they were all in. Compared to her parents, even Fudge had accepted Voldemort's return with open arms.

"No, I cannot apply to colleges," Hermione said through clenched teeth.

"This isn't like you," Mr. Granger accused. "We barely recognize you anymore."

"Mum, Dad, this is what I have to do. I am a witch and I am a part of this world."

"I wish you wouldn't be a witch!" Her father shouted. "We barely know you, and it's your fault. You spend your whole time with those people, even when you don't have to be at school. You have turned your back on everything we have taught you. It's almost like you are not our daughter anymore."

Hermione looked at her father in shock. The pain his words were causing her was too much for her to bear. Abruptly, she turned and ran away.

As Hermione ran through the front door of the house she had grown up in, her only thought was to get as far away as possible. She ran along the familiar street, for once not taking comfort in the sight of the old tree at the corner, where she had sat under as a little girl reading her beloved books, or the pretty birdhouse their neighbours set up every winter. It was impossible to count the times she had seen all this, it was her home; yet, as Hermione's feet pounded along the icy street, all the familiar sights seemed alien to her. The snow-covered houses and gardens, which in the morning had seemed peaceful and romantic, had turned cold and uninviting.

Once Hermione was sure to be outside the wards, which the Ministry had set around the Granger's residence in order to protect one of Harry Potter's best friends and her Muggle family, she grabbed her wand and Apparated to the only place she could think of going.

An instant later, Hermione reappeared in the small, walled courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. Due to the dangerous times they lived in, it was impossible to Apparate into Diagon Alley directly anymore. Hurriedly, Hermione counted the bricks in the wall above the dustbin and then tapped the wall three times with her wand. The entrance to Diagon Alley appeared, and Hermione walked through.

She didn't run anymore, owing to the desire to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to herself, but walked at a brisk pace through the thick curtain of snowflakes, which had started to fall, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. At this time of the day, the late evening, Diagon Alley appeared almost deserted. Only a few witches and wizards passed, clearly anxious to get off the streets and into the relative safety of their homes.

In a matter of minutes Hermione reached her destination: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The store was closed for the night already. Hermione knocked at the door and waited, suddenly afraid that the twins were unable to hear her in their flat upstairs or that they might be out. Impatiently, she knocked again, and while she waited, Hermione became aware of the intense cold surrounding her. Hermione had not stopped to grab a coat when she had left the house, and the cold December wind was attacking her mercilessly, her thin sweater ill equipped to protect her from the severe cold.

When she knocked for the third time, she was relieved to hear a voice from the inside.

"Hold your Hippogriffs, I'm on my way."

The tingle of magical wards being removed could be felt, and a key turned inside the lock. Then the door swung open, and the face of one of the twins, Hermione couldn't tell which one, appeared.

"Hermione!" The twin gasped, clearly shocked.

"Hhhhhhi." was all Hermione was capable of saying through the violent chattering of her teeth. Her arms were numb with coldness, and she was hugging them to her body tightly.

"Merlin, come in!" She felt a hand taking her arm and pulling her inside the shop. The warmth inside only served to remind Hermione how cold she was. She found herself being led through the shop and through the backdoor towards a staircase.

"Fred, come here!" The voice seemed to come from a distance, even though Hermione knew the source was the man pulling her along beside him.

Hermione absently noted that, therefore, George must have been the one to open the door. She climbed the stairs with difficulty, feeling the heaviness of her bones with every step, but George kept a hand on her arm and pulled her along.

"Hermione?" That was Fred, standing in the door atop the stairs, which lead to the twins' apartment.

Hermione opened her mouth to explain her unexpected arrival, but found herself unable to formulate a clear thought through the fog that seemed to cloud her head. Instead, hot tears welled up in her eyes until they became too much to hold in and spilled out, leaving burning trails along her frostbitten cheeks.

Fred recovered enough from his shock to step forward and wrap a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders. He led the crying girl towards the couch of the living room and sat down, hugging her body closely to his.

"Get me a blanket, she's shivering like mad," he said quietly to his brother.

George hurried to get the blanket and brought it to the couch. Fred took it from him and wrapped it firmly around Hermione. She showed no sign of reaction, but continued to cry into Fred's shoulder.

"Shhhh... everything's going to be okay," Fred whispered, running a hand along her back. "Shhhhh."

"I'll make her some tea," George said. "That'll warm her from the inside." He left to go into the kitchen, leaving Hermione alone with Fred, who continued to hug her tightly.

Her tears subsided almost as quickly as they had come, and although Hermione was still shaking from the cold, she calmed down visibly.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened?" Fred asked tentatively.

Hermione raised her head from his shoulders, but didn't look at Fred.

"I got into a fight with my parents," she mumbled, embarrassed by her earlier outburst.

"About what my Mum told them?" Fred asked.

"Yes, it was bad."

There was a pause. Then, Fred admitted, "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither. I'm sorry I came barging in here like this, but I didn't know where else to go. Harry is still at the Burrow."

"Don't worry about it," Fred assured her.

George came back, a cup of tea in his hand. Hermione accepted it and took a small sip, feeling the tea burn its way down to her stomach.

"I'm going to spend the night at Lee's house," George announced, turning to leave.

Hermione straightened up quickly.

"You don't have to leave because of me. I'm sorry," she stood up. "I'll go."

"No, don't be stupid. You stay. Lee wanted to tell me about his new job anyways." With a quick nod towards his twin, George was gone before Hermione could protest any further.

"He is mad too, isn't he?" Hermione asked, looking at Fred apologetically.

"No... at least not with you. He's just a bit hurt because I supposedly kept you from him for months. We usually tell each other everything," Fred explained.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing already. It's not like you chose all this. We have to do it, remember?"

Hermione let herself sink back onto the couch and sipped her tea again. It really was helping to warm her up. She cupped her hands around the mug, relishing in its warmth.

"How come you didn't even have a cloak?" Fred asked her after a while.

"I left rather hurriedly," Hermione replied evasively.

"Was..."

"Let's not talk about it," Hermione inserted, staring into her tea. She heard Fred sigh beside her, but other than that, he stayed silent. Hermione was thankful for that. The pain the day had caused her was still raw, and she was tired. Too tired to think about what had happened, let alone talk about it.

"The Pygmy Puffs escaped today," Fred suddenly said. "We've got a new employee, Tommy, who's a bit on the clumsy side. He forgot to lock the display cage. Unfortunately, we only noticed when three of the little buggers sprang onto our shelf with the Tickle Toss Powder and knocked over a few jars. The whole shop got dosed in it. Let me tell you, it's not easy to chase after Pygmy Puffs when you can't breathe for laughing."

Hermione smiled and Fred was satisfied. Mission accomplished.

They settled into a pleasant conversation about the shop, school and a thousand other topics, excluding any mentions of their families or their upcoming nuptials.

It was well into the night when Hermione couldn't stifle her yawns anymore that Fred suggested they go to bed. He actually offered to sleep in George's room, but Hermione declined, pointing out that George might think this odd should he come home earlier than expected. After all, he was assuming that they were quite eager to share a bed only one day ago.

So it came to be that Hermione and Fred spent their first night together, though both were careful to stay on their side of the bed. Hermione fell into an exhausted sleep, wearing a pair of Fred's boxers and a t-shirt with the imprint 'Carrot Tops Are Green, Einstein!' and snuggling quite comfortably underneath the blanket. She thought that she would never have believed that one could talk this easily with Fred.

Fred took longer to fall asleep. Seeing Hermione wearing his clothes had forcibly reminded him of their kisses in his bedroom at the Burrow. Once again, he wondered how he could have possibly failed to notice Hermione's appeal before.

Eventually though, Fred succumbed to sleep as well, and they slept together peacefully – with the possible exception of the times when Fred woke up because Hermione's hairs were suffocating him or when Hermione awoke feeling cold only to discover that Fred was hogging the sheets.

tbc

a/n: Please r/r. It's always good to know what the readers think about the story.