The Magic of Midsummer

It was a warm Midsummer's Eve, and Hermione lay in the grass in front of her home. She'd heard of the magic of Midsummer, but she had no desire to explore it at that particular moment. She was content to listen to the air, and relax in its warmth. The trees swayed gently, and a wind chime jingled merrily in the breeze. Ever so slowly her eyes fluttered, and the witch drifted into a light slumber.

Hermione found herself in a circular room, bearing a strong resemblance to the Room of Doors in the Department of Mysteries, but unlike that room, this one was completely white.

She sat there for a while, deliberating which door she might choose but ultimately decided on the door directly in front of her. Turning the handle she walked through a snowy fog.

Hermione stepped through and spotted a small muggle park. The only person in sight was a boy close to her age in wizard robes sitting against a tree with a thick tome in hand. He had black hair and a familiar hooked nose. With a gasp she realized –

"Professor Snape?"

His head snapped up at once, and with narrowed eyes a much younger version of Severus Snape than she had ever known replied, "Miss Granger? What on earth are you doing here?"

She shook her head in confusion, stepping backwards through the threshold of the circular room once again. Relief swelled in Hermione's chest when the doors did not spin upon its closure, and taking a deep breath she chose the next door over to explore.

Hermione stepped onto a platform that looked much like the one to take the Hogwarts Express. She saw no trains, no trash, and – to her chagrin – not a person in sight. But at that moment she heard a whimpering sound and spotted a deformed child crying beneath one of the benches. She approached cautiously.

"Are you alright?"

The child lifted its head, never ceasing to cry, and Hermione spotted a pair of wretched, red eyes peering at her with complete and utter loathing.

Without uttering another word she ran back through the door, slamming it closed. She took a moment to calm herself and chose her third door.

To Hermione's immense surprise she found herself in front of Hogwarts, only it looked brighter and more vibrant. The bricks seemed to shimmer in the sunlight; even the whomping willow appeared peaceful, if such a thing were possible.

Suddenly a flash of ginger zoomed in front of her, and a thrill of laughter echoed in her ears.

"Just try and keep up, Sirius, I dare you!"

Hermione recognized that voice, but surely it wasn't possible. Fred had been…gone…for weeks. And Sirius, well he had died years ago. But clear as day she heard his reply.

"And lose to the likes of you? Not a chance, Weasley!"

Another broom shot past, darting back and forth across the grounds. Hermione followed them to the Quidditch pitch where several more people were either flying on brooms or sitting in the stands.

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Lavender Brown, Colin Creevy, a much younger Remus Lupin, and even Tonks with her bright pink hair cheered in the stands. How were they alive? And why were they cheering for a completely nonsensical game of Quidditch? Obviously no one was keeping score.

"Found the snitch yet, James?" A young Sirius called out to a familiar looking boy with dark, messy hair and glasses. "Oi, James!"

"Huh, what?" The boy whom Hermione could only guess was James Potter was currently occupied with a beautiful redheaded witch, who clearly must have been Harry's mother, Lily. The wizard wasn't even on his broom.

"James! The Snitch! Get your head in the game!" Sirius wailed.

Fred chuckled from behind, only adding to Sirius' frustration.

"James, you forgot all about it!"

James cleared his throat unnecessarily and hopped back on his broom. "Sorry, mate. Though you have to admit you'd get sidetracked as well."

With a laugh they took off again and continued to fly around.

Hermione watched for another full minute before interrupting.

"Excuse me, can someone tell me what's going on?"

Fred turned his head sharply, and his eyes widened in surprise, delight, and then…mild horror. Not a split second had passed before he'd hit ground running toward her.

"Hermione, what happened? What are you doing here?" He brought his hands to her cheeks, staring desperately into her eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Fred." She was growing exasperated. "Why is everyone so surprised that I'm here? Why is Sirius so young, and how did Harry's parents get here? I mean, logically none of you should be here at Hogwarts at all! I don't understa—"

Fred cut her off by pressing his lips fervently against her own. If his intent had been to distract the witch it certainly worked. Every thought in her consciousness dissipated in an instant, and all she felt was the sensation of Fred Weasley's lips.

He pulled back hesitantly and offered her a weak grin. "Thought that ought to do the trick," he said in almost a whisper.

Hermione's breathing shallowed as she took a long look at Fred. She wanted to kiss him again. Stepping back carefully with a far calmer disposition she murmured earnestly. "How are you here, Fred? I…well, we…we've all missed you so much. Nothing has been the same since you left." And it was true. Fred's passing had left a deep ache in everyone's hearts, an ache Hermione wasn't sure could ever be healed.

"I know it's hard to take in at first, Hermione, but…everyone here is dead."

Hermione gasped at first with trepidation, but a foggy memory surfaced from the recesses of her mind. "But…I'm still alive, Fred. I'm only sleeping."

"That's impossible – isn't it?" He furrowed his brows and stared at her with wonder.

Not taking any chances, Hermione pulled the collar of his robes toward her for what she was certain would be their last kiss for quite some time. Fred wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her closer as the kiss grew in momentum, but at the last second Hermione stepped back sadly.

"I won't forget you, Fred."

He gazed at her with a somewhat bewildered and longing expression. "Don't go, Hermione."

She sighed sadly. "But I was never really here."

And with a gasp, she woke up.

The stars twinkled as Hermione gazed up into the sky, and for a moment she could have sworn her lips were still tingling from their parting kiss. Perhaps there was more to the Magic of Midsummer's Eve than she'd previously thought. One thing was certain – she was going to find out.

Fin.

Pairing: Hermione/Fred; Prompt: Doors; Quote: "You forgot all about it!"

Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. -V