In the heat of battle, Hermione found it surprising how fast time could move at one moment, and how slow it could in the next. She threw spells left and right, battling Death Eaters three times her age and with loads more experience than her. They weren't the brightest of their age, though, she reminded herself. She was pulling no punches - she had seen what Death Eaters could do. She had fought them before. She had been tortured by them. Where in an ordinary duel she would be trying to disarm and knock them out, Hermione was using everything she could to disable her attackers, permanently if she had to. She found that after a year on the run and everything it had come with - the betrayal Ron had dealt her, the hunger she had experienced, the fear that she carried around, not to mention what she had been through at Malfoy Manor - her attitude in the coffee shop standing over Dolohov had changed quite a bit.
It surprised her how little she cared that she might be killing these people. She had no time to care. She was fighting for her life, for the lives of so many people - her conscious could do the balancing in the end. Would they show mercy on her? Spare her? She knew the truth was quite the opposite, and felt no shame in casting a blinding curse at a dark hooded figure. Knowing the harm that he would have caused, she set him on fire for good measure. She had just returned from the Room of Requirement, and knew that if other students were willing to try to kill her, full fledged Death Eaters would stop at nothing.
"Is that a joke?" Fred said, "Percy, I don't think you've made a joke since -"
Time slowed for Hermione now - or maybe she was just moving faster than she had ever thought possible. A Death Eater had blown apart a wall, and pieces were going to fly everywhere. Using reflexes she never knew she had, Hermione didn't even considered her wand but dove headfirst into Fred, knocking him to the ground. Pieces of the ancient Hogwarts wall rained on top of them rather violently. Hermione, shielding Fred from the debris by virtue of having been on top of him when they landed, took the brunt of the force, great pieces of stone hitting her back, legs, side, and even her head. She must have screamed, surely she screamed, but Hermione could only hear the rush of her own blood in her ears.
"-MIONE!" came the strangled, breathless yell from beneath her. I must be heavy, she thought dimly, dazed from the tumble and the rock to the head. She tried to roll off of him, but realized she was pinned. All at once, the pain hit her, and this time she knew she screamed. Both legs, spine, and oh god the head wound. She looked down into Fred's eyes.
"I - think -" she started, heaving and trying to catch a breath, watching Fred's terrified blue eyes. He was shaking her head, whether to stop her words or her effort she didn't know, couldn't tell. "I'm - dying - Fred." And with that, she passed out on top of him.
There was frantic wand work all around them as Harry, Ron, and Percy subdued their attackers. George was doggedly moving the rocks and trying to free his brother and his saviour. Ron was the next to arrive, followed by Percy and Harry. Together they made quick work of the debris and found Fred clutching Hermione, praying she wasn't dead. Not today, he thought. Not today, not today, not today, please not today...
She's breathing.
Breathe with me, Hermione.
In, out. In, out. I'd be dead without you. In, out.
"She's alive," Percy declared, his voice higher than normal. Fred's automatic response was to make fun of him, but there was nothing funny about it. In that moment he thought nothing would be funny again. "But she's hurt. We need to make sure she's okay! Fred too!"
"Move over," said George, and Fred felt an instant relief hearing his voice. George was rather good at healing charms, having to prove this time and again during testing for their pranks and joke store products. He heard George murmur detecting spells and a couple of bone mending spells - they'd hurt in the morning, he figured, along with his own. Collar bone for sure, his wand arm, and something in his back. He'd be dead, he was sure, if they hadn't shared the impact with Hermione taking the majority of the force. And all of a sudden all he could think about was the look on Hermione's face when she was sure she was dying. She didn't even look scared, he thought. She looked... Accepting. Sad. Even a little relieved. What had she been through to make her feel the last?
"I have to wake her up," George said, "I don't want to, she's going to hurt a lot. But I have to make sure I got everything, and I need her to tell me if there's something else wrong. She could die if I miss something." Sweat had formed on his brow. He looked twenty years older with all that worry on his face, Fred thought. "Fred, I'm going to get you in a second, but I don't want to move her til I know for sure. She'll need you when she wakes up." Fred nodded in understanding, as much as he could in his current position. She might try to get up with the weight lifted. She might just need the comfort that she wasn't alone. She'd saved his life; he would give her whatever she needed.
His arms were already around her having grabbed her instinctively in the fall. He held on as tight as he could, one arm noticeably weaker due to the break. George uttered "Enervate," and Fred watched as Hermione's eyes fluttered open again. She stiffened immediately.
"What -" she started, and was cut off by what Fred knew from her face was overwhelming pain. Tears flowed from her eyes and onto Fred's own cheeks. He could vaguely hear George asking her questions, but was focused on gritting his teeth through his own pain. Hermione clutched him like a lifeline, and he tried to squeeze her back without hurting her.
"- lungs," he hear her say with a gasp, "P-punctured maybe. Internal b-b-bleeding, maybe?" And she passed out again.
George moved quickly, taking care of her problems the best he could. She would need potions, notably pain and blood replenishing, and a real qualified healer like Madame Pomfrey, but George was able to do enough to keep her alive. They gently moved her off of Fred, and made quick work of his healing.
"Her leg," he said, speaking for the first time since the wall exploded. His voice cracked, and he winced. There was a jagged rock protruding from her upper thigh.
"Best leave it in," said George, "It'll bleed like a bitch when it's taken out. She'll need potions." Fred nodded again, thankful his twin was so calm. He started to lift Hermione to transport her to the Great Hall where their resident healer was likely to be. "Fred," George warned, "Let someone else. I just mended your arm."
"I'm taking her," Fred snapped, shooting a harsh glare at Ron, who has stepped forward to take her. George dropped it. "Watch my back," he said, fighting for a more reasonable tone, "You're the only one I trust to do it." He looked at Ron, who looked split between helplessness and rage. "Listen, you can't do anything for her right now, and I know Harry needs you. Go with him, mate," he implored, and after a hesitant glance at Hermione he obeyed.
Slowly he and George made their way to the Great Hall where Molly Weasley and Poppy Pomfrey flocked to them. George quickly detailed what had happened, the injuries he had guessed at, and what he had done to try to heal her. Pomfrey took a moment to take George by the shoulders and say, "Good work, Mr. Weasley. You may have saved her life," before adding "Now put her down and get out of my way!"
Fred gingerly set Hermione down on one of the stretchers that Madame Pomfrey had conjured, and the healer offered him a vial of pain potion when she saw him stretch his arm with a wince. "Don't be foolish," she chastised when he refused.
"I'm not," he argued hotly, "I'd rather save it for someone who needs it more. You can't have an endless supply on you, can you?" She let him go at this, and Fred rejoined the melee despite his mothers protests.
"You're injured! Fred!" he heard her call out to him. But he couldn't just wait to see if Hermione was going to wake up or not - he had to keep moving, had to keep fighting. I'll fight for both of us, Hermione, he thought as he threw a curse at Fenrir Greyback, just in time to keep Lavender Brown out of his bite.
The rest of the fight passed in a blur of light and sound and reflexes. Harry was dead. Neville charged Voldemort. Harry was alive. Hermione was in the crowd, he noticed. Atta girl, he had time to think as they locked eyes before the final duel began.
When it was over, finally and completely over, Fred rushed to her. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" he asked her, standing closer than he might have thanks to the crowd forming around Harry, Ron, and herself. She waved him off with one hand, but looked awfully pale. She clutched his arm for support, but told him she was fine? He didn't think so, but clearly couldn't push the issue. And then George was jumping on him in glee, and his mother was clearly looking for her children, and he lost her to the crowd.