Hello, My Name Is Fatherhood (Chapter One)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Hello, My Name Is Fatherhood
Pairing: Hermione/Fred
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Summary: Fred felt like . . . someone barged into his house, waving a name tag in his face that said: Hello, my name is Fatherhood.
A/N: This is actually a re-write of an older story. The first few chapters will be mostly the same, but the end will change dramatically.All comments are appreciated!
“Hello, My Name Is Fatherhood”
Chapter One: F
It happened so fast that all one could hear was a shout and the sound of screeching tires. The driver didn’t stay long (the prat!) and left the woman lying in the road, bleeding rather profusely. A man (a wizard to be more exact) ran up, and checked her pulse. She was still alive, but just barely. Her children- twins he noticed-were standing on the sidewalk, staring at their mother, not sure whether to cry or blink their eyes trying to wake up from what must be a very bad dream.
Then the man noticed a wooden stick pointing out of her sleeve, and he knew that she was a witch. He quickly looked around, and cast a spell that would divert the attention of any Muggle passerby. He grabbed onto the children and the woman, and he apparated to St. Mungo’s.
* * *
“Can you tell us your mother’s name?” asked one of the nurses.
Isabel Granger, the oldest by twenty-two seconds, nodded her head. “Hermione Granger,” she said, proud that her voice did not waver.
“Is she all right?” asked Anna Granger.
The nurse nodded her head absentmindedly. “Now, can you tell us your father’s name?”
“Er . . .” said Anna. “I . . . .” She looked to Isabel.
Isabel shrugged.
The nurse nodded, and searched through the birth certificates until she came upon the Granger twins. “Frederick Weasley,” she said. “We’ll contact him right away.”
* * *
Fred was in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, when an owl flew in through the open door and landed in front of him. Hearing the owl screech impatiently, George walked out of the back storage closet, curious to see what all the fuss was about.
“Who’s the owl from?” he asked.
Fred looked at the envelope. “St. Mungo’s” he said, worriedly. He opened it and scanned the letter inside.
“It’s Ron, isn’t it?” asked George. “He fell off his broom again.”
“No,” said Fred, his eyebrows pinching together.
“It’s Charlie. One too many burns?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Bill?”
He shook his head again.
“Well, then who is it?”
“Hermione.”
“Oh,” said George, looking around the store. There was a group of young children, giggling over in the corner and a older couple, looking for a birthday present for their son. “Right,” said George, loudly. “There’s been an accident in the back room. At the moment, there is a highly contagious, deadly, and explosive cauldron of Ton-Tongue Toffees gone wrong. You need to leave the premises in a calm but timely manner before it explodes and . . . .”
“Well, that worked rather well,” said Fred, looking at the empty store.
“And I had a bit more to go too . . .”
* * *
The clock ticked by and it felt like ages before they heard the someone walking down the hallway. Isabel and Anna watched as Fred and his twin, George, came their way. Their mother was always tight-lipped about their father, but one of the things she did divulge was that he had a twin. They stood up straight with perfect posture, awaiting their arrival . . . only to be ignored.
Fred and George walked straight to the nurse’s desk, and asked if they could see Hermione.
“Sorry,” said the nurse with a flirtatious smile, her eyes flicking between Fred and George. “The Healer is in with her at the moment. But if you just wait with your daughters, you’ll be able to see her in a moment.”
This last sentence caught Fred and George off guard, but the nurse had already turned her attention to something else and was ignoring their stunned faces.
George was the one who looked around and spotted the two girls behind them. He nudged Fred’s arm and inclined his head in their direction..
Fred nearly choked.
They stood there, with their fiery curly hair and their Hermione-like posture, and stared at Fred with feigned bravery. They had to be no older than nine years old. Fred sank down into the nearest chair trying to grasp the concept that he had daughters. “Fred” and “daughters” are two words that don’t belong in the same sentence unless separated by “doesn’t have.”
Isabel was the first one to speak. “Hello, Mr. Weasley,” she said formally.
Fred looked up, noting that they had Hermione’s eyes. “Hello,” he said, his voice strangely thin; he felt like he had eaten a Ton-Tongue Toffee gone wrong.
“I’m Isabel Granger, and this is my sister, Anna.”
“Hello Isabel, Anna,” he said, a hint of panic in his eyes.
“We don’t why you left her,” said Anna, “and maybe one day one of you will tell us, but until then, you’re an arsehole.”
“Ah, yes that he is,” said George. He held out his hand. “I’m George, the better looking twin.”
“Is that your pick-up line?” asked Isabel.
“Because it’s terrible,” finished Anna.
George frowned and scratched the back of his head. “I know, I’ve been meaning to work on that.”
Isabel smiled. “You’re nice. Why didn’t she fall for you?”
George laughed. “Probably because I’m not the one who handcuffed myself to her and then lost the key.”
The nurse walked over to them. “Your mother is still unconscious, but if you’d like to see her, you can,” she said.
Isabel nodded, and began to follow the nurse. Anna opened her mouth to say something to Fred, but she quickly changed her mind and ran to catch up with her sister.
After the nurse left Isabel and Anna with their mother, Anna said, “Do you think he’ll let us stay with him?”
Isabel shrugged, her eyes roaming over her mother’s face, looking for something she recognized. Her nose looked the same and her lips looked the same and her eyes looked the same (although they were closed), but her skin was white and there were a few scratches across her cheeks.
There was a bottle of Skele-Gro on the bedside table, and Isabel and Anna knew their mother was going to be fine: it was nothing a little magic couldn’t fix. The only question was how long it would take to fix.
“He has to,” she said finally. “He’s our father.”
(tbc)
Title: Hello, My Name Is Fatherhood
Pairing: Hermione/Fred
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Summary: Fred felt like . . . someone barged into his house, waving a name tag in his face that said: Hello, my name is Fatherhood.
A/N: This is actually a re-write of an older story. The first few chapters will be mostly the same, but the end will change dramatically.All comments are appreciated!
“Hello, My Name Is Fatherhood”
Chapter One: F
It happened so fast that all one could hear was a shout and the sound of screeching tires. The driver didn’t stay long (the prat!) and left the woman lying in the road, bleeding rather profusely. A man (a wizard to be more exact) ran up, and checked her pulse. She was still alive, but just barely. Her children- twins he noticed-were standing on the sidewalk, staring at their mother, not sure whether to cry or blink their eyes trying to wake up from what must be a very bad dream.
Then the man noticed a wooden stick pointing out of her sleeve, and he knew that she was a witch. He quickly looked around, and cast a spell that would divert the attention of any Muggle passerby. He grabbed onto the children and the woman, and he apparated to St. Mungo’s.
* * *
“Can you tell us your mother’s name?” asked one of the nurses.
Isabel Granger, the oldest by twenty-two seconds, nodded her head. “Hermione Granger,” she said, proud that her voice did not waver.
“Is she all right?” asked Anna Granger.
The nurse nodded her head absentmindedly. “Now, can you tell us your father’s name?”
“Er . . .” said Anna. “I . . . .” She looked to Isabel.
Isabel shrugged.
The nurse nodded, and searched through the birth certificates until she came upon the Granger twins. “Frederick Weasley,” she said. “We’ll contact him right away.”
* * *
Fred was in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, when an owl flew in through the open door and landed in front of him. Hearing the owl screech impatiently, George walked out of the back storage closet, curious to see what all the fuss was about.
“Who’s the owl from?” he asked.
Fred looked at the envelope. “St. Mungo’s” he said, worriedly. He opened it and scanned the letter inside.
“It’s Ron, isn’t it?” asked George. “He fell off his broom again.”
“No,” said Fred, his eyebrows pinching together.
“It’s Charlie. One too many burns?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Bill?”
He shook his head again.
“Well, then who is it?”
“Hermione.”
“Oh,” said George, looking around the store. There was a group of young children, giggling over in the corner and a older couple, looking for a birthday present for their son. “Right,” said George, loudly. “There’s been an accident in the back room. At the moment, there is a highly contagious, deadly, and explosive cauldron of Ton-Tongue Toffees gone wrong. You need to leave the premises in a calm but timely manner before it explodes and . . . .”
“Well, that worked rather well,” said Fred, looking at the empty store.
“And I had a bit more to go too . . .”
* * *
The clock ticked by and it felt like ages before they heard the someone walking down the hallway. Isabel and Anna watched as Fred and his twin, George, came their way. Their mother was always tight-lipped about their father, but one of the things she did divulge was that he had a twin. They stood up straight with perfect posture, awaiting their arrival . . . only to be ignored.
Fred and George walked straight to the nurse’s desk, and asked if they could see Hermione.
“Sorry,” said the nurse with a flirtatious smile, her eyes flicking between Fred and George. “The Healer is in with her at the moment. But if you just wait with your daughters, you’ll be able to see her in a moment.”
This last sentence caught Fred and George off guard, but the nurse had already turned her attention to something else and was ignoring their stunned faces.
George was the one who looked around and spotted the two girls behind them. He nudged Fred’s arm and inclined his head in their direction..
Fred nearly choked.
They stood there, with their fiery curly hair and their Hermione-like posture, and stared at Fred with feigned bravery. They had to be no older than nine years old. Fred sank down into the nearest chair trying to grasp the concept that he had daughters. “Fred” and “daughters” are two words that don’t belong in the same sentence unless separated by “doesn’t have.”
Isabel was the first one to speak. “Hello, Mr. Weasley,” she said formally.
Fred looked up, noting that they had Hermione’s eyes. “Hello,” he said, his voice strangely thin; he felt like he had eaten a Ton-Tongue Toffee gone wrong.
“I’m Isabel Granger, and this is my sister, Anna.”
“Hello Isabel, Anna,” he said, a hint of panic in his eyes.
“We don’t why you left her,” said Anna, “and maybe one day one of you will tell us, but until then, you’re an arsehole.”
“Ah, yes that he is,” said George. He held out his hand. “I’m George, the better looking twin.”
“Is that your pick-up line?” asked Isabel.
“Because it’s terrible,” finished Anna.
George frowned and scratched the back of his head. “I know, I’ve been meaning to work on that.”
Isabel smiled. “You’re nice. Why didn’t she fall for you?”
George laughed. “Probably because I’m not the one who handcuffed myself to her and then lost the key.”
The nurse walked over to them. “Your mother is still unconscious, but if you’d like to see her, you can,” she said.
Isabel nodded, and began to follow the nurse. Anna opened her mouth to say something to Fred, but she quickly changed her mind and ran to catch up with her sister.
After the nurse left Isabel and Anna with their mother, Anna said, “Do you think he’ll let us stay with him?”
Isabel shrugged, her eyes roaming over her mother’s face, looking for something she recognized. Her nose looked the same and her lips looked the same and her eyes looked the same (although they were closed), but her skin was white and there were a few scratches across her cheeks.
There was a bottle of Skele-Gro on the bedside table, and Isabel and Anna knew their mother was going to be fine: it was nothing a little magic couldn’t fix. The only question was how long it would take to fix.
“He has to,” she said finally. “He’s our father.”
(tbc)