This is the last chapter of The Masquerade. I hope you've enjoyed your reading!

ElieNP

"I still don't understand."

Hermione sighed for the umpteenth time. Ron was right, the cursed Fred didn't see any logic in them spending some time together.

"I just want to walk with you."

"Why?"

"Because we're friends!" she cried out loud in frustration. Was it possible to strangle a curse? She'd like to try right now.

His brows furrowed. "Really?" The edge of cruelty in his voice didn't go unnoticed. A frown marred Hermione's forehead.

"As stupid and insufferable as you are presently, I can only answer you in a positive way. Yes, my dear Frederic, we are friends."

She might as well try to exasperate the curse out of Fred' shoes. She was certain she was annoyed enough to be able to do so.

He scowled at her. "I don't think so."

"Never asked for your opinion," she pointed out.

"We can't be friends if I don't want us to be."

"Why not?"

"Because friends have to agree to be friends."

"Never heard about that rule."

"But it's logical!"

"Really?" The edge of amusement in her voice didn't go unnoticed. He growled in response to her cockiness.

Though it was pleasant to witness the curse losing it, Hermione wasn't proud of herself for that all. As annoyed as the thing was, it still existed. And that was terrible.

"Don't you want to slap me?"

"It'd be my pleasure," she smirked.

"Then-"

"Because you'd be too full of yourself to have roused such a behaviour from me."

He unconsciously took a step backwards. Hermione Granger was a calm bookworm, a miss-goody-two-shoes, wasn't she? The cursed Fred swallowed hard. They had nothing in common. Nothing to share, nothing she could want so much, to the point she was glued to his heels since he'd appeared in the kitchen. And, more than everything else, Hermione Granger couldn't act slyly, it wasn't in her nature, was it?

Hermione could see confusion in his eyes. The memories the curse had access to seemed not to be exactly right. She slightly frowned. Could it be that their Fred was disturbing his own memories to confuse the curse? Could he have changed her back to the girl she'd been when they'd met? The moralistic first year bookworm? It did make sense. If the curse thought she was still this girl, then there was no way she could be friend with the true Fred.

'Whoever has cast this curse was crazy,' she thought.

It was so hard not to lose it when facing Fred, so hard to watch him without actually seeing him. They'd been separated for so long – too long - she missed him dearly. Of course, she missed their trio, but what she missed the most was the time they spent together. George wasn't always with them, often leaving the two of them alone, be it at the Burrow or the workshop. She'd become used to share such a proximity with him.

"What am I to you?" she suddenly asked.

They were now in the middle of the Weasleys' Quidditch pitch. She'd stopped walking to face him fully.

"What am I to you Fred Weasley?" she repeated.

"A nuisance."

She chuckled. "Of course, but I'm not talking to the curse here, I want to know what the true Frederic Weasley thinks." Her eyes bored into his.

To be honest, she'd wanted to ask him this question for a long time. What did he really think of her? Was she truly a friend? Something less? Something more? She didn't dare hope. But she did hold hope in her heart. She hoped to be more to him, such as he meant more to her than a mere friend.

Albeit she dearly liked George, the feelings she had for him weren't as strong as the ones she destined to Fred. She couldn't tell when things had changed, all she knew was they had actually changed, drifting from a precious friendship to something ever more precious. If George was an anchor to her, Fred was her downfall, and it was thrilling as such.

Without him her life was dull.

Three months of thinking him lost had been an eternity of agony. Why did understanding always dawn on you when it was almost too late? As cliché as it was, Hermione had admitted the true nature of her feelings for Fred when he was laying on his hospital bed. Though they'd existed for much longer, the fear she might break the bond they'd formed had kept her from following further this idea. She couldn't be in love with a friend, a crush was acceptable, love far too heavy, too dangerous. Would George agree to share his brother with her? More than for a simple friendship? Wouldn't he grow wary of her, fearing she might hurt his brother?

She'd been too afraid her feelings would be the end of their trio to express them. Too afraid until it'd been too late, with no possible coming back. Fred had been lost for everyone. She'd truly acknowledged the place the twins both held in her life then. George had been able to kick her back to her senses. He'd let her cling to him without protesting. And he'd clung to her too.

'He probably knows," she realised as she kept looking at Fred in the eyes.

As close as they'd been for the past months, George had certainly been aware of her feelings long before she'd come to consider their existence. Most of people never thought twice about being careful around the twins, they were infamous pranksters, nothing more, that was monstrously wrong. George and Fred were sharp observers, a priceless quality when you spent your time playing jokes on people.

"You're crazy," the cursed Fred retorted.

"Not much more than you."

He turned away from her prying eyes.

"What does our Fred think of me?" she repeated again.

It might have been what they should have done from the beginning, to ask for Fred himself. To try to wake him up out of his own mind hadn't worked, it hadn't been straightforward enough, not sufficiently honest to encourage Fred to do his best and bring the curse down.

Because it was all about that indeed. Honesty. The cursed Fred had never once been honest. He'd told each one of them what you could have expected from the twin if you didn't really know him.

Mrs Weasley and the ones who had wholly accepted the new version of him had been dishonest too. That was why they couldn't realize they were being deceived. They'd gladly played along with the curse, taking in the relief it offered them. They weren't to be blamed though, Hermione, too, had been about to lose herself to lies. The first being the most terrible one, she'd thought there'd been no hope left. Their plan to end Fred's life had been a trap they'd scarcely avoided. At this time, they'd refused to be honest with the need of time which obviously existed. They'd deemed themselves patient when they'd been worse than toddlers in front of an ice cream. They hadn't wanted to wait more for him to come back, because they'd have had to live with their pain, to face it and fight to keep going on. They'd cowardly chosen the easiest – and quickest – way.

In spite of that, all this time, it was evident they'd been doubting. Hermione acknowledged it now, and George probably did too: they'd never have done such a thing. And so the curse had allowed its prisoner to wake up, sensing they were admitting the truth to themselves.

The dreams, under the looks of nightmares, had served to point out the right way to her. A way to which Fred belonged, the way of truth.

The sparks had always been roused when they'd been honest to themselves. Ginny revealing that no matter how infuriating her big brother could be she would always treasure their precious bond and memories, George remembering how dear the shop was to them, how strong their link was, stronger than anything else, than money or friendship. They were twins before all, now and forever. And now it was her turn, standing in front of him, wholeheartedly admitting her love for him. She doubted the curse would be strong enough to resist such a blow.

More than Mrs Weasley, more than his brothers and friends, Hermione had undoubtedly been the most dishonest of them all, sticking to the idea of wanting a friend back, when her heart was craving for much more than a mere friendship.

The curse had been cast to prove how rotten people had become. How much they lied to themselves without even acknowledging it. One could wonder if this curse wasn't, at last, a gift, but it'd take some time before any of them considered it as such. It'd brought too much pain.

"Fred," she whispered.

She was afraid, terrified she might have got it all wrong. However, she refused to run away. She had to fight, harder than ever, here was the biggest trial of her young life. "Fred." His name was a charm on her tongue. She solely focused on his eyes which intently stared back at her.

"Fred, I'm in love with you."

Her sentence was almost lost to the soft wind which enveloped them. Her body was frozen, her mind was too. She wouldn't back away nor try to anticipate different conducts to adopt depending on his reaction. Right now there was no curse to defeat, no plan to follow. In the middle of the Weasley Quidditch pitch were only Fred, Hermione and their feelings. She had opened her heart, given it to him, wholly, willingly. She would hate the curse to break it, but wouldn't hate Fred for doing exactly the same. It was one thing to be friends, another to be in love. She'd loathe herself if he were to force himself in a relationship not to hurt her.

Nevertheless, back to the curse, and unfortunately for Fred, she'd certainly beat the ass of the man being controlled if the curse dared play with her honesty. No joke, no regret.

Her eyes didn't turn away. She'd be brave, no matter what would be the result of her newly born tactics. And if it were to fail... She clenched her fists.

One thing at a time.

His eyes were clouded by too many emotions for one to dominate the others. Fred's body was tensed, his jaw clenched, so much she feared his teeth might break. His feet nervously taped the ground.

Fred was fighting his own battle. She'd seen no spark in his eyes, but that meant nothing. Her honesty had obviously ignited something much bigger, sufficiently important for the curse to have lost its voice – only good at spitting lies.

"Fred," she softly called. "I don't care about which place you're going to take back in my life. All I want is you."

Hermione couldn't be more sincere, Fred's eyes more clouded. She could see his veins through the skin of his arms. His face had gone pale.

"Fred, don't you dare lie to us, you don't want to let this thing control you," she declared to encourage him. She wouldn't let him fight alone. "You don't want the curse to take your place. It'd fill our life with plenty of lies and unhappiness. Sorrow, frustration and anger would be our daily companions. The curse is playing with you as he's played with us for too long. You've been able to change your memories to thwart its plan once, do it again. Go for the victory!"

She got frantic as the words left her mouth, not because of panic, rather because of the faith she had in him. She trusted Fred to come back to them, to her.

They'd fought the curse when their own fears needed to be kicked out of the way. It was Fred's turn to face his. It was time he proved he was master in his own mind and wasn't afraid of his thoughts and feelings.

"It's time we start to be honest with ourselves," she declared with confidence.

A confidence which suddenly appeared in his eyes. His fists stopped unclenching and his whole face set in a fierce mask. Hermione took a step forwards, hesitating only a little. She couldn't fight with him for his mind was a place where she couldn't follow him, yet it didn't mean her presence by his side wasn't important.

She slowly walked to him. He had to know she was there for him. She stopped when she was close enough to gently rest her hands around his. His eyes first went down to their hands, then up to her face. Fred was present, close to the surface, close to win.

"Fred," she murmured, tenderly stroking his knuckles. His lips shivered. She stepped forwards so as only a few centimetres were left between their chests. "It's time you wake up."

The distance between them suddenly disappeared. Fred had firmly pulled her to him with one hand while gently cupping her cheek with the other. Firmness and gentleness. Hermione didn't hesitate to respond. At that very moment the curse could be playing a cruel joke on her she didn't care, it might be her sole chance to be kissed in such a way by Fred, she'd take it, no matter how bitter the regrets could be later.

She pressed harder against him. Her hands caressed his back, slowly slid up to the nape of his neck, then her fingers tangled in his hair. She could feel him, not only physically but mentally, Fred was with her. He was back, now she had to make him stay. She raised on her toes to deepen the kiss.

"Fred," she breathed against his mouth. "Fred, you're here."

His lips fiercely claimed hers again. She needed to look him in the eyes, to make sure the curse had totally surrendered to honesty, however she was reluctant to detach herself from him to do it yet.

"Hermione," he whispered softly. "Oh Hermione! Thank you so much."

Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly stepped backwards to study him. His features had relaxed at some point during their kiss. It was relieving though not enough to reassure her entirely. Not feeling too daring for that all, she finally focused on his eyes. What she saw in them brought tears to hers.

No clouded, no cruel, a bit lost but mainly filled with an emotion which went straight to her heart.

She shakily brought a hand to her mouth, lightly biting it not to cry aloud. Fred was back! Truly back at last!

He swiftly pulled her back against his chest. She didn't protest.

"It was so painful, so damned painful and dark," he murmured against her skin. She gripped him tightly. "You were all there and yet I couldn't reach any of you. Trapped in my own mind, can you believe in that?"

She buried her head deeper in his shirt. It'd been hard enough to be locked away from his heart, she didn't want to imagine how much he'd suffered because of their slowness. They could have saved him earlier if they'd taken more time to think about the situation. Their emotions had controlled them right from the beginning, playing with their mind to prevent them from efficiently planning their way out of this mess.

"Is it really over?" she weakly asked, raising her head to meet his eyes. Couldn't the curse be waiting in the dark for them to let their guard down?

Fred shook his head. "I don't feel its presence any more, can you?"

She chased a lock of red hair from his forehead. No, she didn't feel its ominous presence any more, but it seemed too easy. The curse had made them suffer so much, could it be really that simple to get rid of it? Indeed, it could. Because being honest wasn't easy at all. It'd been one of the biggest trials they'd had to face. The last effort would be to allow herself to feel safe, at-ease, in Fred's arms without blaming herself for what she'd almost done, and for what she hadn't done quickly enough.

She'd get rid of these feelings for, in Fred's embrace, she felt the way she'd always felt before the curse. Once again, such an outcome could seem simple, but the exhaustion – physical and mental – was real.

"It's not that easy, is it?" Fred commented.

Hermione nodded. She knew he was talking about being honest. To be true to themselves had been even harder than facing forbidden magic.

"You're braver than me."

Hermione lightly punched his chest. "That's not true. We've been about to lose you, to lose ourselves. You don't know how much you mean to us." Her eyes deeply bored into his. "You don't know how much you mean to me."

He tenderly caressed her cheek. "Now I know." She granted him a marvellous smile, the first since the end of the war.

"We've missed you so much."

"I bet you have," he chuckled.

They went back to the Burrow before George, Harry, Ginny and Ron came, worried, after them.

Fred hadn't said a word than his twin was tightly crushing him against his chest. Then, they all changed into a bunch of crying faces, tangled arms and legs. Their laughs alerted Mrs Weasley. She didn't say anything either, no matter how strange seeing her family clutching at her son with so much strength was. Hadn't he been back for some time now? Why wasn't she asking them why they were provoking such a ruckus? They didn't try to know. They could see relief in her eyes, a feeling she had missed for several months now, and it was enough to satisfy them.

Molly Weasley forcefully blinked before joining her kids in the warm embrace. Neither stupid nor naïve, she'd simply allowed herself to be deceived by her pain. Yet this pain was nothing compared to the joy of having her son free of what had been hovering above him for so many months – an eternity indeed! Deep inside her, she perfectly knew how lucky she was to be surrounded by kids who used to never lose hope. They'd done their best to bring her son back, all the while protecting her heart and going along with an awfully painful masquerade. In spite of these difficulties, they were presently successful.

The rest of the family pretty much reacted the same way. Fred didn't need to speak, and no words were exchanged as bear hugs engulfed the young man every second.

The hearts knew what the heads had refused to acknowledge.

Fred had always known he was loved, however the way they were all proving it to him brought, more than once, plenty of tears to his eyes.

"We all love you." He jumped a little. Sat in the middle of their Quidditch pitch, he hadn't heard Hermione coming, though he'd been certain she'd not be long to follow him.

She knelt by his side to study his eyes carefully. "It's totally disappeared," he beamed at her. He never missed an occasion to reassure them, her, about the definitive disappearance of the curse. Nothing was left of it, he was adamant.

Hermione nodded before leaning her head on his shoulder. "I can feel it."

"Everybody knew something was wrong with me, each one of you in your own way." He gently grabbed her hand to kiss its back.

George and she had confessed their first plan to him, not once turning away from his curious eyes. They wouldn't have born to stay by his side with such an elephant between them. Fred had, literally, burst into laugher. Putting an arm around their shoulders he'd pulled them close to him and kissed their cheeks. "Brilliant," he'd breathed in their ears.

Lost at first, George and Hermione had soon realised Fred wasn't playing a prank on them. He wasn't angry with them, no, on the contrary, he was thankful they loved him enough to have considered this option.

"As long as you are here to bring me back nothing will happen to me," he murmured.

"Don't lose yourself too often, or too far away," Hermione replied. "You don't imagine how tiring you are for our nerves."

He chuckled in her hair. "Your nerves don't like me?"

"They are patient, and love you very much, but if you want them to last you must take care of them," she smiled.

"It'll be my pleasure to take care of you."

"My nerves," she corrected.

"You and them are two different things?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sometimes I wonder."

He tickled her. She giggled.

"I promise I'll take care of you as wonderfully as I'll take care of your nerves."

Hermione burst into laugher. "What a declaration is that! Fred you're brilliant!"

The End