One Day We'll Reveal The Truth

"Chasing visions of our futures,

One day we'll reveal the truth"

Daughter, Youth.

"That woman is unbelievable, Fred, absolutely unbelievable! And I'll tell you what, she doesn't half like putting the blame on me. If I had a galleon for every time she said "Well if you'd just done this"" George said in an incredibly bad imitation of his wife as he tore his coat off. He currently had his back to Fred, Hermione and Rose, meaning he still didn't know they were there, but as soon as he turned around the truth would be revealed. "I'd be as good as a Malfoy! And I'll tell you another-"

George turned around then, ready to point at Fred, to complain about Angelina some more, maybe to start raving about something Fred did wrong, but as soon as his eyes fell upon the brunette on the sofa, he froze.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed his eye's wide, staring between Hermione and Fred with nothing more than shock and surprise. "Oh my Merlin, that's really you isn't it" he said as Hermione got awkwardly to her feet, shifting out from under Rose's legs.

"This is brilliant!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms around Hermione's waist, lifting her off the floor in a frightfully tight hug before spinning around wildly, Hermione trying extremely hard not to squeal. "Wait a tick" He said, dropping Hermione, swaying slightly, back on her feet. "This is you right? This isn't a prank?" He said, eyeing Fred suspiciously as he too tried to untangle himself from the little girls clutches to stand with the fellow grownups.

"It's really me" Hermione said shyly, but smiling at George all the same. George's face cracked into a wide grin before he, once again, wrapped his arms around Hermione, holding her like he held Ginny after the war.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione" He said wondrously. "It really is you! We've all missed you so much. Is this it then? Are you back for good?" George asked, his goofy smile still on his face as he held her by the shoulders.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Hermione said awkwardly, wringing her wrist.

"How can you not know?" George asked, looking at her like she was some kind of rare exotic animal.


"No, Fred, I want to know." George said, looking pointedly at his twin.

"Can we at least do this in the kitchen?" Hermione said, rubbing her temples, knowing George clearly hadn't noticed the sleeping child. George looked confused for a second, but he shrugged and sauntered into kitchen all the same, Fred and Hermione following after him with nervous looks on their faces.

"Hermione, where have you been?" George asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back against the kitchen counter, looking at Hermione with fascination.

"I've been living in London." She said shyly, George's eye's widening.

"You can't have, we'd have known." He replied, looking at Fred for back up, but Fred face just looked tired.

"Well, no." Hermione said "I've been working in a bookshop to get the money I need and I've not had a lot of contact with other witches and wizards" she said, staring interestedly at her own shoes, one of the laces having come undone.

"Working?" George said, dumbstruck "Why would you, Hermione Granger, need to work after the grant the ministry gave you for your part in the war. Ron's still living off of his." George said, not noticing how Hermione flinched minutely at his name, but Fred noticed, he always did.

"Well, I used some of that grant on the wedding, and then Ron and I split the cost of our home and then I gave a lot of it to charities."

"How much did you give to charity?" George said, eyeing her sceptically. She shifted awkwardly.

"Half of it" She mumbled "And I put some of it towards SPEW" she continued, even quieter this time. "The rest is in my vault, but that's only or emergencies."

"So you've been working for your money?" He asked, trying to clear the air.

"I wanted to make my own way in the world, earn my own money, not spend the rest of my life living off a grant I was given for fighting in a war when I was eighteen. Not all of us want to live like Ronald." she said, giving George a challenging look, begging him to try and contradict her.

"Okay, good for you" George said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, his eyes flittering towards Fred, who was currently sniggering under his breath. "But my question remains. Are you back now, for good?"

"Not yet, no" Hermione said, trying not to look at George's disappointed blue eyes.

"Why not?" George asked, sounding oddly like a child, causing Hermione to smile sweetly at him, her soft maternal smile that melted Fred's heart.

"Because I have things to sort out first, things to prepare." Hermione said carefully, trying not to arouse any suspicion from George, no more than she had to at least.

"Like Wh-" but George was but off by the very thing Hermione was trying to avoid suspicion of.

"Mumma?" Rose said, her soft, round face peeking over the edge of the sofa towards the three adults, all of whom looked back at her.

"Hey, Rose" Hermione said, trying to talk through the nervous lump in her throat from seeing George's expression. "Did you have a good sleep?" She asked and Rose nodded, putting her thumb in her mouth, reaching out to her mother with the other one.

Walking towards the couch, Hermione wrapped her arms around the little girl's middle, lifting her up to sit on her hip.

"George" Fred said, laying a hand on his twins shoulder as Hermione walked back towards the kitchen, carrying Rose with her. "You remember, Rose."

"I – But – Rose?" George stuttered, staring at the little girl with the frizzy red hair and round blue eyes. "As in The Rose?"

"Rose" Hermione said tentatively, watching the little girl's shy eyes. "This is your Uncle George"

"She's beautiful" George said, his voice quiet, spoken on a breath. Rose's eyes were slitting between Fred and George, clearly trying to decipher what was happening. After a while she gave up, burying her head into the crook of Hermione's neck.

"I should probably be going" Hermione said, feeling Rose's soft breaths against her neck "It's getting late and Rose needs to be in bed" she said hastily, turning back towards the door, grabbing hold of Rose's coat.

"I'll show you out" Fred said, eyeing his twin. But George was staring wide eyed at the little girl with the red hair, wondering just what it was Angelina had been so scared about.

Fred came back up the stairs a few minutes later alone, Hermione and Rose having left. He saw George sat on the sofa with his head in his hands, clearly exhausted.

"You okay, Georgie?" Fred asked ,watching as his twin jumped slightly.

"Yeah, just been a long day." He said, rubbing his face. Fred nodded in understanding.

"So, what's happening with you and Angelina?" Fred asked, landing on the sofa next to his twin.

"Oh, that. Well, She's pregnant" George said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What? George that's brilliant!" Fred exclaimed, clapping his twin bother on the shoulder, confused by his lack of excitement.

"No, it's not brilliant" George said blandly.

"Why? You've always wanted to have kids; ever since you met Teddy you've been as broody as a hen." Fred said, eyeing his twin confused.

"And I do, Fred." George pressed, staring at the floor, his hands knotted in front of him. "But Angelina, she wants to get rid of it before any one finds out."

"That insane!" Fred shouted, suddenly on his feet "You cant just get rid of it, it's your child."

"Don't you think I know that." George said meekly "but it's what she wants to do. She's not ready to be a mum."

"And Hermione was?" Fred suddenly spat making George jump. "She was twenty years old, Angelina is twenty-seven, I'm sure she can manage."

"Don't bring Hermione into this." George said agitatedly "I've just seen her for the first time in over two and a half years."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Fred said apologetically "But this is a big deal, George. You need to tell someone."

"So is Hermione coming back, have you told anyone about that?" George asked, his eyebrow raised.

"She made me promise not to." Fred said dejectedly, sitting back down on the sofa beside his twin. "Merlin, this is so screwed up." Fred said, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll drink to that" George said with a half hearted chuckle. "So, what do I say to Angie?" George asked, his voice sounding sad and worried.

"Tell her the truth. That she can do it and you'll help her. You may be useless but I think you can manage that" Fred said, earning him a bash on the shoulder from his twin, making them both smile.

"So, what do we do about Hermione?" George asked, giving Fred a stern look. "We have to tell someone she's back; you've seen what's happened to everyone."

"She'll come back in her own time; we can't force her to do anything." George nodded in understanding. Before either twin could say anything else, a small brown owl fluttered in through the open window, landing lightly on George's leg, a hastily written note in its beak.

Taking the letter with shaking fingers, George looked worriedly at Fred, the owl taking off back into the cold night.

"It's Angie" George said, looking at his hastily written name on the parchment. After an encouraging nod from Fred, he unfolded the letter, scanning his eyes quickly over the short note. "She wants me to come home, says she wants to talk." George said, his voice sounding a lot older than Fred had ever heard it.

"You've got to go, mate." Fred said, receiving a slow nod from George in return.

"I know." George said, getting to his feet, the letter still in his hand, and grabbing his coat, throwing it back on. "And I promise to keep Hermione a secret" He said.


"Wish me luck" George said, his coat zipped up, his eyes looking terrified.

"You don't need it, mate." Fred smiled and with a loud crack, George disappparated, leaving Fred alone in his home.

With a sigh, Fred reached towards the wooden coffee table's only drawer, tugging it open with substantial effort. Inside was a whole collection of things. Unread books and quills, a few knuts, some discarded sweets from thshop below along with loads of other merchandise, and a perfectly folded piece of parchment.

Pulling it out, Fred read over the cursive script on the front that was his own name, and with memories of the beautiful teenage girl, Fred read over what he had thought would be her final goodbye.

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