A/N: I'm back! With another story. Branching out into the HP Verse. Be gentle. Updates will be weekly on Tuesdays.

This is dedicated to chaosmieu and axelwolf8109. Together we all agree that we were robbed of this beautiful couple. FREMIONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN CANON!

Playlist: Different Names for the Same Things - Death Cab for Cutie

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter, I'm just here putting my spin on things

"Alone on a train aimlessly wander
Outdated map crumpled in my pocket
But I didn't care where I was going"
Different Names for the Same Thing – Death Cab for Cutie

She paused at the front door of the shop. Her hand hovered above the handle. The sun was setting behind her, indicating that closing time was near. She peered in through the window, a phantom smile growing on her lips. It was as lively as ever. However, the scene caused her heart to hurt. Reminding her that she'd abandoned everyone; ran away. She was still nervous about coming back. She wasn't sure if they'd be happy about her abrupt reappearance. Not after disappearing for almost a year. No one knew she was back, nor where she went. She cut off contact with everyone. She doubted they'd be happy to see her. She'd deserted everyone in one of the hardest times of their lives. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to quell any negative thoughts. She swallowed and pushed down on the handle, shoving the door open.

Raucous chatter filled her senses and she let out a startled laugh. It was fantastic to see the shop doing so well. She slipped passed the threshold, finding a calm corner to inhabit while taking in the entire scene before her. A genuine grin formed on her mouth as she looked up overhead. There was confetti floating leisurely in the chaos, while a swarm of paper planes flew through the air, dive-bombing those they were intended for. There were dozens of new products lining their shelves but feeling nostalgic she kept her eye on the original inventory. Keeping to the sidelines, she shuffled through the crowd, keeping her head down for fear of being recognized. She found her way over to the first official invention the twins came up with. She reached out and knicked a Skiving Snackbox off the shelf, turning it over to read the contents. She ran her index finger along with the descriptions written out. Fainting fancies had always been her favourite. They always had the perfect dramatic flair when attempting to ditch classes. She was loathed to admit it back then, but they really were clever when it came to magic.

"Ah, I see you've picked up one of our oldest and most popular gags." A familiar voice boomed from over her shoulder, "I hear Nosebleed Nougats are all the rage these days."

She started at the voice, unprepared for the sudden reunion. She froze for a few seconds, unsure of how to approach him but hearing the genuine joy in his voice negated her worries. A quiet chuckle fell out of her, settling into the air between them. She pointed to the fancies and turned around. George's eyes popped open wide as he recognized her.

She gave him a weak smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears, "I've always had a soft spot for these ones if I were, to be honest."

He nodded, "Well you always were one to cause a scene."

His sarcasm was well-received, causing both of them to break into comfortable laughter. Both remembering their antics from our school days, and her vehemence against all of it. Once the shock and laughter wore off, they stood in sombre silence. In a nervous gesture, George tucked his hair behind his only ear before opening his arms to her. She shuffled forward, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"Hermione." He murmured, squeezing her tight into him.

She squeezed back, clutching the snack box tighter in her hands, "George."

They stayed in their embrace for a few long moments until they heard someone calling his name. They broke apart and he ruffled the top of her head in a brotherly gesture. They turned to see Lee Jordan waving him over.

"Stay a while?" George asked, "Angie and Lee are around here somewhere, and you haven't met little Freddie, have you?"

She balked hearing George using his late brother's name so casually. Startled by hearing the common endearing nickname they all shared for his brother. She realized it wasn't actually about the Fred she knew, but for his namesake. She knew that he and Angie had named their firstborn after his late brother, but she hadn't been expecting to hear the light way his name rolled off George's tongue. She clamped her mouth shut and nodded, agreeing to stick around. George laced his fingers through her free hand and squeezed them.

"We missed you." He intoned.

She gave him a sad smile, "I missed you too."

He backed away, into the frays of the crowd and shouted, "Snackbox is on the house. Maybe give these newbies a little demonstration?"

She watched George's back retreat into the chaos. She blinked, taking a moment to breathe. She hadn't been expecting a warm reception. Especially not from him. He'd been hit the hardest out of all the Weasley's. Losing his twin brother. It gave her reason to believe that maybe – maybe, everyone would forgive her. Welcome her back into the family again. Her thoughts strayed to Harry, and then to Ron. Her two closest friends. The ones who she would've dropped anything for. Shaking off the start of her negative thoughts, she shook her head lightly and glanced around her.

She fell back allowing herself to be succumbed by the crowd. Everyone was racing towards the front, waving their items in the air, shouting and calling. More people began milling in through the front entrance, all hoping to cash out before closing. She shimmied her way through the throngs to the back-left corner, where they housed the Pygmy Puffs. She reached into their enclosure and was met with excited chirping. A lime green smaller one hopped up onto her hand and she carried him closer to herself, patting him gently.

She could still remember when the twins accidentally bred one of the little buggers.

It was back in an abandoned corridor they made into a workshop at Hogwarts. The two of them, including Lee, were all milling about coming down from the high of a quick Quidditch match between friends. Fred rummaged through a box, excited to show off their newest experiment. As he reached into the box, he let out a girlish yelp, calling for his twin. Lee snorted and began to rib him about the noise but that ended quickly when we saw the mischievous gleam in George's gaze. Lee furrowed his brow, asking George what was going on. Fred gave a particularly evil chuckle and then scooped his hands forward, presenting what turned out to be the very first, neon pink, Puff. Turns out they were just trying to come up with a way to change the colour on Puffskeins and accidentally left two in the same box together. Mixed together with the magic, and dyes, they ended up with an extra poofy, extra cuddly, extra tiny, Pygmy Puff. It was then that she had happened upon the make ship shop, prepared to hand out a dozen detentions when she noticed what Fred was holding. In absolute shock at the new species they'd created, she let out a gasp and the three wizards discovered her hovering in the entryway. Using their wands, they swore her to secrecy, until they could figure out how to market them. It was one of the few times she let their antics slide in light of their genius.

She tucked her finger under the chin of the Puff in her hand and it let out a content squeak. She wrinkled her nose up at it, nuzzling it lightly. These little guys were cute – that much was true. What most people didn't realize, was that they were also sinister little devils. They loved to play tricks, or downright disappear and laugh from wherever they hid. It was disconcerting when it happened in the middle of the night. She couldn't recall how many times Ginny, herself, and their dorm mates had been woken up by tiny chirping laughter, taunting them from the dark corners of their rooms. These little things being loosed amongst the Gryffindor commons was just another reason for her to yell at the twins for being reckless. A constant occurrence between herself and them. She let out a shiver at the memory and dipped her hand back into the enclosure, letting the little guy bounce back down towards his friends.

A loud bang was let off near the registers and she snapped her gaze up, seeing that someone had accidentally set off their new purchase of fireworks. She chuckled at the mayhem created. Without much thought, she half turned, reaching down to grab her snack box. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the tall form of a man standing too close and narrowly missed slamming him as she turned. Shifting to the left, she managed to miss bumping him.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized, "I didn't mean to throw you off balance."

The man answered, in a voice, she never thought she'd hear again, "You can see me?"

She snapped her gaze up and found herself staring at an exact replica of Fred Weasley. There were some slight differences, like how his hair was a lot longer than the last time she'd seen him, and the scars that adorned his arms, and cheeks were new. She swallowed. This couldn't be happening. She knew coming back was a horrible idea, but she hadn't expected to start hallucinating. Apparently, she wasn't ready to face her demons. Not yet at least. Her mind began to spin, bringing her nightmares back to life. He died. She watched it happen. A wall crushed him. This wasn't real.

"You're dead." She whispered.

He smirked, "You can see me."

She continued shaking her head. Why was she suddenly seeing illusions of the former twin? She squeezed her eyes shut, raising her hands to cover her face and began to shake her head slowly. Trying to dispel the image of Fred. He wasn't real. It was her imagination. Her mind playing tricks. She needed to dislodge this manifestation from her mind. She repeated the mantra this isn't real in her head. After a solid minute when her heartbeat slowed to a regular pace, she decided all was well. The near panic attack narrowly avoided.

Listening to her surroundings first, noting that there wasn't anything indicating that his presence was still there. When she gathered the courage to open her eyes again, she found herself staring straight into the brown eyes of one Frederick Gideon Weasley. Tremors rolled through her body, the stress of seeing him in front of her taking full effect. She bit down on her lower lip; this was why she ran away. She knew being around everyone was going to make her go insane. The post-traumatic stress from the war was too much for her psyche and she couldn't cope.

Her only option was to become a hermit. A shell of her former self. Living among muggles, forgetting everything about magic and what it meant to her. What it took away from her. Realizing that this was a major mistake, she spun on her heel and took off towards the front door. Knocking shoulders with many as she made her escape. The echoes of those telling her to 'watch it' mixed with her name being called, anything to slow her down. She ignored everyone and everything behind her. She needed air. She needed to breathe. The walls were closing in around her. Everything was getting too close.

The shouting grew louder in her wake, but she kept moving. In her panic, she wasn't sure whether she could differentiate between George and his deceased twin. If she was indeed seeing things. Seeing him as a hallucination, that wasn't something she wanted anyone to find out. They'd lock her up in St. Mungos without a second thought. Reaching for the door, she yanked it open and spilled out into the busy street.

Everything sped past causing her vision to blur. Overwhelmed by her emotions a migraine began to build between her eyes. The pressure of her arrival pushing down around her. She swallowed hard, spinning in a circle to gain her bearings. Where was she? Which way was home? The noise coming from around her clouded her thoughts, disabling her ability to think properly. Fear rolled down her spine, a shiver working its way through her entire body. She spun around endlessly for a familiar beacon, something to ground her.

She delved deep down into her consciousness, searching for logic. An explanation. Maybe, maybe he was a ghost. That was plausible. How was it that they occurred again? Nearly Headless Nick explained it once. They had to leave something behind. Something of theirs needed to be left behind after death that way they would be tethered to life after death as an impression of their former self. If that was the case than he'd be confined to where he'd left a part of himself behind. However, if he was indeed a ghost, then everyone else would be able to see him. Hadn't he just been surprised that she'd seen him? As if he'd been here all along and no one else had noticed him.

"Hermione?" His voice came from over her shoulder.

Her eyes widened, and she stopped, turning to see him. There he was, her own personal hell, standing in the middle of the busy walkway. Directly in front of her.

"This can't be happening." She whispered to herself.

She stared at him for a long moment. His smile faltered ever so slightly, worried by her reaction but content to stay there. She pinched the bridge of her nose. This was her punishment. This was her mind retaliating for leaving and then coming back. It was all far too much. Choosing to react in the only way she saw fit, she backed away and broke into a run. He shouted her name as she ran. His voice fading into the bustle of the traffic the further she went. Using the steady beat of her feet hitting the pavement, she kept going. She wouldn't stop. Not until she was far enough away that his projection couldn't follow. She shouldered her way through the busy streets of Diagon Alley until she found herself speeding through the Leaky Cauldron and bursting out into the quiet muggle alleyway.

Taking a deep breath, she continued forward, this time at a brisk walk. She refused to turn around. She couldn't stand the thought of what could be following her. She didn't want to know if she could still see him. She left him in the past. Behind her. He needed to stay there. Exhaling, she shuffled along through the crowds, eventually finding herself tucked away in a corner of the public library. Sitting in an alcove, on the windowsill, she had a novel opened in her lap, but found herself mesmerized by the constant flow of life around her. People coming and going. Cheery hellos, and tearful goodbyes.

She leaned her head against the window, peering out at the traffic in the streets. It was mundane. Typical. Everyday traffic. All moving along, regardless of the state that she was in. Time wasn't going to stop for her. Nor would it turn around and start over. The revelation struck her. Life was going to carry on, with or without her. Being stuck in the past wasn't going to help anyone. She licked her lips, tucking a few stray curls behind her ears. She came back to make amends. Six months in hiding had been long enough.

Standing back up, she straightened out her rumpled shirt and folded closed the book she' been perusing. Taking her time, she strolled through the stacks of the library, imaging herself back at Hogwarts. Where everything had been easy – or easier. Nothing had ever been easy for them. When she closed her eyes, she could hear the constant bustle of the school, see the candles floating in the air to add extra light. A small smile built on her face as she remembered. Something she stopped letting herself do. Gathering her courage, she dropped the book onto the return cart and left the library to make her way back to Wizarding London.

~(HP)~

The walk back wasn't nearly as long as she expected. In no time at all she found herself standing in front doors of the Leaky Cauldron. She reached out a hesitant hand. Stepping back through that door meant stepping back into that world. The one she gave so much too. The one that took so much away. Steeling her nerves, grasping at the last strings of her Gryffindor courage, she pushed against the splintered door and into the musky air of the tavern. Tom looked up from the bar and gave her his signature misshaped smile. She swallowed and inclined her head in greeting to him. His eyes flickered towards the stairs and she gave him a brief smile.

She made her way to the stairs and down the hall of rooms. There was a charmed bell hanging above her designated door and she silently thanked Tom. She hadn't made any sleeping arrangements before showing up today. She vaguely hoped she could stay with the Weasley's but she hadn't let herself dwell further on that decision, worried about the implications. She definitely hadn't thought she'd hallucinate and start seeing Fred. She was thankful for Tom's discretion, and for knowing she needed a room. She touched the handle of her door, and the bell chimed as it registered her magical signature before disappearing.

She slipped through the door and immediately sat down on the bed. She stared around at the darkened room. Sighing, she pulled out her beaded bag and reached far into the depths of it. She searched for a few moments before locating her wand. As she gripped the familiar tool in her hand feeling a tremor as her magic responded. She'd forgotten what it felt like to wield it. With a quick swish through the air, she lit all the lanterns and began unpacking her effects.

She'd hoped it would've taken her longer to get settled but alas, she didn't have much to put away. She glanced around the room, knowing that she needed to make amends for the afternoon. Grabbing her favourite jumper, and tucking her wand into her back pocket, she made for the door. She slipped through the barrier into Diagon Alley and took her time as she made her way back to the joke shop. She knew the shop would be long closed by now, but it was still early enough in the evening that she wouldn't be disturbing anyone's sleep.

She reached the front door and rapped against the glass. She waited a solid minute before considering that she should send up a quick Patronus to announce her presence. As she reached back to begin the spell, she saw a pop of red hair behind the counter. She let out a relieved sigh. Realizing that she didn't have the correct headspace to try and perform the complicated charm right now. George made his way over to the door, paused when he saw her, a small furrow in his brow. He nodded once before reaching forward and pulling the door inwards.

He opened his mouth to greet her, but she shook her head and interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," She apologized, offering a placating smile, "It was a little overwhelming this afternoon."

George softened at her admittance and ushered her in, locking the door behind her, "Angie's just upstairs putting on a pot. Will you stay for a cuppa?"

She felt her smile grow in genuine happiness and nodded, "I'd love one."