AN: This is my very first fanfic so if you have any constructive criticism on my writing style, content, or anything else at all please don't hesitate to review. Credits to some of my friends who helped me with this, you know who you are. Also if you have suggestions on specific things you'd like to see happen later on in the story let me know about that as well and I'll try to integrate them (I have the plot somewhat figured out so this is more like conversations you'd like to see happen and such). Enjoy!
Chapter 1
Fred wasn't entirely sure where he was when he regained consciousness. The nurse's office was a good guess, though the Great Hall might have been turned into an alternative place for the wounded considering how many of them there must have been. He hesitated to open his eyes only for fear that he would awaken in bonds, somewhere in a dark dungeon beneath one of Voldemort's hideouts. At least George would be by his side; that was all he really needed, to see George's face, to know that all his siblings were OK and that nobody had gotten hurt while he was unconscious. He could feel a pounding that was coming from somewhere inside his brain and thought about how he had ended up being knocked out. He smiled as he remembered the joke that Percy had made, the first in so many years – the only joke that he could ever remember Percy making really. It was nice to think that his family was reunited with their long lost Perce. He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but he could imagine the look of relief on his mother's face when he opened his eyes at long last – a joke was certainly in order for this one, something better than "holey" of course.
He opened his eyes at this time, but found that there was a bright light on top of him and shut them again. He rolled over to his left side, which seemed to be hurting a little bit less than the right, and tried to open his eyes. Again he was met with the same white brightness that seemed to now be pouring in from all directions. He forced himself to fight it and kept his eyes open. He could see a faint image of George in his peripheral vision, and to this he held with a force that he didn't know he had inside him. He pulled himself slowly to face George. A faint smile crept onto his face as he saw the tears that were running down his brother's face. Slowly, the rest of his family came into focus and the light became fainter, almost bearable in the background. Where was it coming from though? And why was nobody reacting to the fact that he was very much awake? He used his hands to push himself into a standing position, but nobody lifted their eyes to look up. They all crouched in a circle and silently wept and hugged and sat.
Fred slowly became aware that the throbbing in his head was gone, that he felt no pain at all. That couldn't be right. A wall had pretty much fallen on him, how could he have come out of that unscathed? Then he saw it, all of it. He saw the floor of the Great Hall moving further and further away, he saw the dead bodies that lay on that floor, and he saw his own face. The face was pale, lifeless, and it lay in George's lap. His mother clung to him, caressing him as if he could still feel her hands there. His father, trying so desperately to comfort his mother, was beginning to break down. Percy could do nothing but kneel and stare, Fred could hear him muttering under his breath "he was right in front of me, and then he was gone. How can he be gone? I just saw him…" as if trying to convince himself that what he was looking at was a lie, a dream, a nightmare. Ginny's face, buried in her hands as she screamed without sound and wept without tears, because her body could not produce either of these things as fast as she was using them. Ron held Ginny in his arms as best he could, his reaction somewhere between shock and pain. Bill and Charlie stood behind the ensemble at Fred's feet. They would not look at him as they discussed what needed to be done next in the battle.
In the few moments after he left his body, three things occurred to Fred. Firstly, he realized that he was staring into his own dead face, and thus he was no longer one of the living. Second, he looked around and found hundreds of others staring down at their own dead bodies with the same expression of horror that he wore. Finally, he overheard the conversation that Bill and Charlie were using to distract themselves from the fact that their family had one less member than usual.
"Well obviously we can't let Harry turn himself over, which means that after this hour, we're going straight back into the bloodbath. It's not over Charlie, it's just been paused"
"Yes I'm quite aware of that Bill, but that's exactly why we've got to strategize, maybe there's some benefit in sending Harry out there and-"
"Merlin's beard, have you gone mad Charlie? We can't just send one of our own out there to die! Harry's family! You wouldn't send Ron-"
"Well hear my out why don't you? I don't mean let him die there, but there may be some strategy we can build around that. I don't know, I work with dragons, the only way we get anything done is to go straight into the lair!"
"Voldemort isn't a dragon! Have you gone absolutely bonkers? Look we do need a strategy, but THAT's not the one we're going with."
"Alright well what's your suggestion!?"
The battle was not over yet. Voldemort was still very much alive, and from the sound of it, he wasn't exactly losing. Fred knew he was not a ghost, he could not be seen or heard by the living, but he also knew that it was not yet time to leave this world. He needed to find a way to fight this battle, he could not – he would not – leave his family and friends until this was finally over, until he had done all he could to take care of them.
