Hermione sat, reading the Prophet, on the slightly smelly, slightly vomit-colored, slightly lumpy, but still fairly comfortable arm chair in Room 0035 of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. In the aftermath of the war, St. Mungo's had to be magically grown to make room for all of the spell damage, werewolf clawings, and crush injuries from being stepped on by the giants or having walls fall on you. The final category included one Frederick Gideon Weasley, and three months after the battle he still hadn't woken up. And every day for three months Hermione Granger had sat in that God-awful arm chair in that God-forsaken hospital, reading that God-damned Daily Prophet which kept printing an ever-growing list of names which corresponded to the ever growing number of empty rooms in the new wing of St. Mungo's. Hermione watched people move on day in and day out and she was so sick of being the only one holding on.
The next day, Hermione woke up and apparated to Hogsmeade. From there she began to trek up towards Hogwarts where she was to take her N.E.W.T.s. She had no desire to return to Hogwarts for her final year of schooling. Not with all the empty spaces in the Great Hall and the dormitories, but she still needed her qualifications in order to start the job that was offered to her at the Ministry. They offered her a job as the assistant head of the "Emergency Rebuilding Committee" and she had accepted. She flew through her exams, sure she had done exceedingly well. As she walked out of the classroom where the exams were being held for students with last names beginning with A-M, and met up with Harry and Ron. As they were pulling on their cloaks, Professor McGonagall came running up to them, her heels clacking on the marble floor of the Entrance Hall.
"Granger, Potter, Weasley!" she called out. "There has been a message from St. Mungo's. It appears that Mr. Fred Weasley has awoken. Come, come, you should use the Floo connection from my office."
Hermione's eyes widened and her heart began to reach. Fred was awake!
After arriving at St. Mungo's, Hermione, Ron, and Harry raced through the hallways, with Hermione's hair streaming behind her. They arrived at Fred's room, their faces flushed. The room was filled to the broom with ginger haired people, with smiles so broad it warmed Hermione's heart.
"Oh, my dears!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Isn't it wonderful! Our little Freddie is awake and alright!"
Hermione beamed as Mrs. Weasley dragged her by her wrist into a hug.
"It is wonderful Mrs. Weasley. The best news we've had in ages." Said Hermione, smiling at Fred who was propped up in bed with pillows. He didn't return her smile. In fact, he was giving her a very odd look, which was a mixture of confused, sad, and a little disappointed. Hermione began to feel all of those things as well. What was wrong? Was he feeling all right?
"Hey, er, everyone?" said Fred. "It's really lovely that you're all here and I'm very glad to, you knew, be alive, but I'm, er, pretty tired."
"Of course, of course!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Everyone simply must come over for dinner to celebrate."
"That is so sweet Mrs. Weasley!" said Hermione.
"Oh, wait, actually Hermione, could you stay for a minute? I have to ask you something."
"Of course, Fred. Anything." Hermione said, bewildered and a little concerned. The rest of the group began to file out of the room, hugging hermione and kissing Fred on the cheek.
"So, Fred," Hermione said, "what's going on?"
"While I was in my coma, extended sleep, blunt force induced nap, or whatever you choose to call it, I had a dream."
"Okay... And?"
"I need you to listen, and not judge. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course," she said. "Anything for you, Fred."
Fred took a deep breath, raked his hand through his hair, and began.
"I was sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room. I was in sixth year, and Snape has assigned us a crapload of homework, and I was exhausted and had literally no interest in writing eight more inches on the potential side effects of mixing gillyweed and alcohol because who gives a rat's ass and you walked in and you looked beautiful. Now this was before all the teeth shrinking, hair straightening crap. I never cared about any of that stuff. I'd loved you since I met you which sounds ludicrous because what thirteen-year-old loves the most ridiculously dorky ridiculous little eleven-year-old but I couldn't help it I thought you were perfect, and there you were, walking through the portrait hole with the light surrounding you and you looked like an angel with a halo. Now, in real life you said "Hey, Fred" and I was impressed that you knew I was Fred and not George and then you walked to the girl's dormitories and that was that. But in this dream, in my dream, the night went a little differently.
"Hey, Fred." You said, walking over to me. You sat down on the couch next to me and kicked off your shoed. You wiggled your toes in front of the fire.
"Ugh, the castle is so damn cold. I was walking back from the library and I had to take the long route back to ditch that git Victor Krum. My toes are icicles!"
"Oh you poor thing. A rich and successful Quidditch player thinks your pretty and smart and wants to take you to the Yule Ball. My heart breaks for you Granger, truly."
"The issue, Weasley," you said, tauntingly, scorching closer to me, "is not that I don't like successful people or Quidditch players. The issue is that he isn't the one I want."
My breath hitched. I could feel warmth radiating off you, and a faint smell of vanilla. That smell has always been my favorite. I reached out my hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Not that it did anything. It never did. The rest of your hair was still curling around your face, framing your features softly.
"So, Granger," I said, sliding my hand from your hair to your neck, stroking your cheek with my thumb,"who is the one you want?"
"If you have to ask, I think you may have mixed gillyweed and alcohol."
"Great, Granger. Making me think about homework right now." I said, joking. I pulled my hand away, pretending to go back to my essay, and you reached out to grab it before I could pick up my quill. Your soft hand wrapped around my wrist and you put your other hand on my cheek, turning my face back towards yours. "You know, you never answered the question. Who is the one you want?" You blushed right then. You really blushed. "Come on Granger, don't get all shy on me now." I said.
And then came the best moment of all. You kissed me. Threading your fingers through my hair, you whispered my name, and I wrapped my arms around your waist and pulled you into my lap.
Then, the scene changed. It was later that year, after the Triwizard Tournament, after everything. We had just returned from Cedric's memorial and we were sitting by the lake, just you and I. The sun was shining, but the entire day felt head was tucked in the crook of my neck and in spite of it being one of the crappiest days ever I wasn't completely depressed because I knew that all hope wasn't lost. On that day, by that lake, in real life, I was alone, Hermione. I didn't have you to make me think that all hope wasn't lost and I did. But in this dream I wasn't alone and I was okay.
"Fred," you said. "Everything's going to change now. I don't think any of us will ever feel safe again."
"You'll be safe." I said, turning to look into your eyes. "As long as I'm here, you're going to be safe."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Fred. You know that's crazy."
"True, Granger, but loving someone makes you say crazy things. It makes you believe crazy things."
"Love?" You said. I swear, in that moment I had never been so afraid.
"Yeah." I said. "Love."
"Love sounds kind of nice when you put it that way."
"Really?" I said.
"Well, everything is horrible but I still feel okay and peaceful and even happy when I'm with you and I'm not really sure what love feels like but I hope it's this."
"So you love me Granger? Wow, you've gone soft."
"Oh shut it Fred!" You said, and I kissed you right there because I needed to."
"Hermione," Fred said, pulling me out of the trance his story had put me in. "This was a three month coma so this dream was pretty long. I could keep going but I hope you get the general idea already." I nodded my head. He took a deep breath and continued. "I guess that the whole point of my telling you this is that we've already wasted so much damn time. If I just could've gotten up the balls to tell you how I felt then I wouldn't have had to wait this damn long and instead of being happy already and instead of getting this part out of the way ages ago I'm sitting here in a hospital bed and confessing my damn feelings. And I don't care that you're probably with Ron because for all I care you can dump his sorry ass because he was never good enough for you anyway. So, I guess, I can sum up all the crap I just said with a request, or maybe a plea, that you will please, please, please be with me because I could make you so much happier than he ever could and it's all I want in the whole world and..."
"Fred!" I said, cutting him off. "I'm not with Ron. I never really was. He was never the one I wanted."
"And you're not with anyone else either? You're available?"
"Well, if it's what you want, then I suppose I'm with you now." I said, blushing, barely capable of getting the words out.
"Of course that's what I want! Have you not been listening to me this entire time?! That's all I ever want!" Fred said, a smile creeping onto his face. He sat up and pulled me in. When his lips touched mine I was thankful for the far too long time it took for us to find each other because when we tell our kids our story it won't be an average one. It will be a crazy whirlwind that started in a hospital room.
Within a year we were married, we couldn't wait any longer. We had wasted far too much time finding one another to hold out another minute.