Hermione's Twin ⇒ Fred Weasley

Ch. 6: Taking A Tumble

     "Uh-h" I stuttered and blinked dumbly a few times. 

     Someone sitting at the table saved me by clearing their throat, catching the woman's attention. "Mum, that's not Hermione." I peered over the woman's stack of pancakes to see a boy grinning at me from his place at the table. "I'm George." He waved a curt wave to me with a half-smile.

     "Elle," I said, embarrassed about the whole situation.

      The woman turned to me with wide eyes and gave me a big hug. "Oh, hello dear! You must think I am a ditz. I'm Molly Weasley, welcome to my home." She grinned and released me to set the pancakes on the table.

     George nodded approvingly but didn't say anything else. Rather, he merely watched me as he cut into his pancakes, his eyes studying me before smiling to himself as if something was funny. I arched a brow, ready to ask what was so funny, when another redhead at the table spoke up, drawing my attention. 

     It was then I realized just how outnumbered I was. I'd never seen so many redheads in a room at one time.

     "Hello, I'm Ginny," the young girl waved to me. She seemed half asleep. I watched her head bob up and down as it perched on her fist, her eyelids drooping the longer the awkward introductions went on. Her hair was tied back with a leather strand to keep it out of her syrup, and like her brothers, her face was adorned with dark freckles, a stark contrast against her pale skin. She was the youngest in the room, but the dark circles under her eyes made her seem older.

     Mr Arthur waved to me from across the table but seemed pretty much preoccupied with the Daily Prophet that was in his hands. "Good morning."

      "I know you are a guest," Molly prefaced her coming question with a sheepish look, "but do you mind going upstairs and checking up on those three?" Molly asked, pleading with me. "They're on the third floor, the second door to your right, dear."

     I jumped at the opportunity. "Of course, Mrs Weasley." Quickly, I left the dining room, kind of feeling out of place without Hermione there. As soon as I was a safe distance away, I let out a sigh of relief. It took me a second or three to find the staircase in the house, as I had actually never been in it before, but once I found it I was on track.

      I climbed the three flights of stairs with a little difficulty, once I reached the top of the third staircase, however, I heaved a heavy sigh and groaned with my laboured breathing. "I need to start working out more." 

      Passing the first door, I came to a stop at the second, reaching out a hand to knock on it, but low voices could be heard from outside. I knew it wasn't the best thing to do, spy on your sister. But, she was my new, seriously a stranger to me, sister and I was too nosey for my own good.

      "Harry, you should talk to Sirius." I heard Hermione advise Harry. "These dreams have got to mean something."

      'Wait, did she say Sirius? As in Black? ' I cupped a hand over my mouth to quiet my breathing, inching closer to the wooden door, praying that it wouldn't creak and give me away. The word Sirius caught my immediate attention, remembering my Magical History classes last year. It had been a week-long topic, the escape of notorious mass-murderer Sirius Black. My professor had dedicated an entire essay to it too, which had been a pain in my side.

     I know what they say about 'Those who eavesdrop', but this was too big to pass up.

      "Hermione, they're just dreams." A voice, I assumed was Harry, spoke up. He sounded strained, his voice sleep-laden and annoyed by my sister's statement. "I don't want to bother him."