Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (but like everyone else, I wish I did)

*Update* I've re-done this first chap, hope it's better. I love getting reviews, so if you could, review? I like feedback, pointers, etc... it always helps :)


The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry's mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying.

Hermione ran from the body in fear, away from the tragic scene that had taken place. She clutched Ron's arm tightly, afraid that if she let go, the memories would come back. Never in her life had she witnessed something like that. While outside a war was going on, a vicious battle played in her mind; emotions flooded in, creating a combination of worry and confusion. Hermione looked to her right, watching an equally devestated Ron; a line of tears fell silently down his cheek. He muttered quietly to himself.

It was obvious that Fred was on everybody's mind. His unmoving face, the trace of his smile all flashed across Hermione's eyes. How she wished it was some cruel joke of his. A cruel joke where he would walk up to her, laugh until tears surfaced his chocolate brown eyes and Hermione would scold him for his immaturity. But, no, this was permanent. Hermione couldn't imagine the state George would be in when he would find out. She couldn't even remember her own reaction when she saw him. Everything had happened in a blur. One second Fred was laughing and the next ...

Within this jumble of thoughts, Hermione's mind unwillingly went back to her first year in Hogwarts. She had just met Harry and Ron, the three quite unaware of their destinys -how they would be so important to one another in the future. Hermione's hair was still bushy, teeth crooked, hands anxious to begin using her wand way back when. Once comfortably situated in the Common Room that night, her eyes had fallen upon two ginger-haired twins who looked like Ronald, her newly aquired house mate. They were smiling and laughing. Hermione watched them with fascination, looking away when they caught her eyes. She was not familiar to the magical world and found it entrancing when the boys would perform spells she hadn't yet learned.

Over the next year or so, Hermione had become close to these twins. Her fascination of their magic had morphed into disapproval. Deep down inside, however, Hermione secretly enjoyed their pranking and mischief. Even deeper inside, she developed an interest for Fred, the older of the two. She'd get giddy whenever he was around and her heart would jump when his shoulder would pump into hers on the way to class or in the Great Hall. Hermione dismissed this feeling; it wasn't an option. Fred- she had said to herself- was like her brother, not to mention they were two years apart. And so she banished this feeling and moved on with her life. Fred never crossed her mind while her and Victor's romance blossomed, or when she was heart-broken over Ron.

Every one of her hormonal feelings seemed suddenly pointless. Hermione's head began to throb. Her legs buckled; Ron held on to her tighter. This didn't help a bit. Fred was still buzzing around her thoughts, refusing to leave. Sure, he did bother Hermione to breaking point with his immature pranks. Sure, she gave he and George detention for advertising their useless pranking equipment and pratically demolishing the Gryfinndor Common Room in their seventh year. But Fred was always the one. The one to grow old with and share their many beautiful grandchildren.

Now that was all gone. Robbed. Taken. It hit Hermione with tremendous force. Did it really take Fred's death to make her realize things? So much for being the smartest witch of her age. Apparently it didn't just take book-smarts to live in the crazy wizarding community, or even the world. But it was too late. Hermione felt guilty and more importantly, stupid. Fred would have made a much more wonderful companion to Ron. In Fred's own way, he was a genius. Who really could come up with that complex kind of magic that he used to make WWW products?

The anger set in far more quickly then she would've liked. Hermione wanted to whip some Deatheater arses. To avenge Fred so he had died with honor and dignity. If she couldn't express her feelings to him anymore, avenging him was the way to go. She quickly unlinked her arm with Ron. Her posture changed, she walked with a bad-ass kick. Nothing would stop her. This was for Fred. To show she loved him, and cared. This anger and bitterness wasn't her. But for now Hermione didn't give it a second thought. This is for Fred, she repeated to herself.

"Were to?" she asked.

"To go kill Voldemort." Harry said quietly. Ron gulped. A grin rested on Hermione's face.


Everything was silent in the Hogwarts corridor. Hermione's footsteps echoed loudly. A small orange cat ran by, it's fur matted and tangled. She could only imagine the things this cat went through, the things it saw at the battle. Her own memories would be branded in her brain forever, as fresh as the real thing each time. Her other memories of the Malfoy Manner and the cruciatus curse seemed to have waited for more haunting events to join them. How Hermione wished she could've had a normal seventh year like the other students before her. Well, she was sure everyone who had fought in the battle did. A year of not fighting Voldemort and his disloyal followers; not seeing innocent people die.

The fighting was over, though. Harry had won. They all won. It was done. Soon, the aurors would wrangle up the weak and frightened Deatheaters, freeing the wizards and witches of hiding. Hermione had helped accomplish this. A warm and excited feeling surged inside her. But it didn't last long. The chilling memories turned up again. Hermione knew what was frightening her the most. She didn't want to say it out loud, so she kept it in, wandering the destroyed halls of Hogwarts. Along the way, she passed bodies of the combatants who gave their lives. She averted her eyes; it was too hard to see who was who.

Hermione rounded a corner. The eerie feeling inside of her flamed up like a fire. Her heart rate quickened. She began to walk faster and balled her hands in fists. Through the darkness of the corrider, Hermione could make out a figure near a door. A fallen banner covered the figure. Curiously, she walked closer to it- quite sure it was a body.

She gasped. It was Fred.

Well, Fred's body.

A sob broke from her mouth. She fell to her knees, next to the body. He was still, his face pale, his lips still parted in that smile. Hermione stroked her finger along his cheek, feeling the cold of his skin. Glistening tears fell from her face onto his. Hands shaking violently, she removed a lock of his giner hair from his face. He looked so peaceful as he lay there, as though he were sleeping. Hermione laid down next to him. She rested her head in his neck. Just laying there, waiting for the laugh that would never come.

"Oh, Fred. It's Hermione. We won the battle, You-Know-Who is dead." she whispered.

No response.

" Mean man, what were you thinking, leaving your family like this?"

No response.

"Have you no idea the pain it will cause us? Imagine, a world without Fred Weasley.

Impossible. "

No response.

"Why did you give up on your beautiful life? Your store was doing so well. That Verity girl was certainly a keeper."

No response.

"Did you decide to die just to torture me?"

No response.

"You knew, didn't you? Knew tha-that I fancyed you, Fred."

No response.

"How would you feel if-"

Her words faltered. She felt it on his cold neck. Hermione swore she just felt that one tiny response that she was hoping for. Maybe it wasn't even a response. Maybe she was imagining it. Hermione was going crazy, because it couldn't be. Fred couldn't be- No, it wasn't possible. But through her doubt, it was getting stronger. Little by little, but it was. Hermione finally felt it, felt that it was real.

She had felt Fred's pulse.

Hermione sprang up. Her bushy hair went flying. She pushed it aside and rubbed her hands together. Taking a deep breath, she placed her fingers on Fred's neck. Back before Hogwarts, she had taken a course on health, where she learned to check pulses. Hermione was rusty, but at least she knew the basics and where to find the two sources of a pulse: Neck and wrist.

Sure enough, it was there. She felt the thudding of blood pumping through his veins. Fred was alive.

I-I've got to get him to safety! Hermione thought quickly.


She whipped out her wand from her jean's pocket. Her hand was wobbly and shaking madly. Could she carry Fred while apparating in this state? Hermione threw this question out of her head. Grabbing Fred around the chest, she recited the apparating spell and disappeared. Getting Fred safely to a healer was her only thought. And before Hermione knew it, she was in the hospital waiting room.

"I HAVE A DYING MAN IN MY ARMS!" she cried," I NEED TO GET HIM TO A HEALER!"

A tall nurse stuck her head out of the office door. Her face was glowing with sweat. It was clear that a lot of patients had come to the hospital over a short period of time. She leapt over to Hermione and lead them to a stretcher. They heaved the surprisingly heavy Fred onto it. Hermione wasn't really assured by the nurse's expression. She didn't want to know what her own face looked like at the moment.

"Does he have a pulse?" she asked quickly.

Hermione nodded, "Yes. Faint, but yes."

"What was his state?"

"H-he wasn't breathing for some time. He was hurt badly- I had to leave for about half an hour. When I came back his pulse started."

"You mean that this man was dead?"

"Yes."

"Honey, this is a miracle." the nurse said," I'll get him to the trauma healer. Immediately."

Hermione watched as Fred was rushed off toward the Trauma Center. She was shaking violently, and her whole body seemed to be buzzing. Casting a quick glance toward the nurse, she walked to the waiting room and collapsed on a plushy chair. The room was deserted except for herself.

Oh goodness, oh goodness, I've got to get Harry and Ron and all the Weasleys.

Will he be alright? Did I bring him in time?

What if the healer can't fix Fred? What will I do?

I have GOT to get the Weasleys!