This is my first multi-chapter Fremione fanfiction. I hope you all enjoy it, I came up with this idea randomly and decided to throw something together so here it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just think they'd be cute together.
The war was over. They had won.
Yet, there were many people that lost on the night of the battle just a few days ago. They lost their friends, family, classmates, mentors, loved ones. Some people had lost everything.
But Voldemort was dead. They had won the war, and they were free.
Most people were out celebrating every day, starting at noon and carrying on until the early hours of the morning. Which was fair enough; witches and wizards had been terrified to leave their houses for a good couple of years, but now that Voldemort was dead they could do whatever they pleased.
Hermione had chosen to spend her free time in one of the wards at St Mungo's, clutching onto the hand of a certain tall, ginger-haired Weasley boy.
Fred. The lively prankster had been unconscious since the war after an explosion on the seventh floor nearly killed him. The entire Weasley family was completely shaken up by it – especially George. Hermione couldn't think back to a time where she had ever seen George look so terrified. The way he'd clutched onto his brother's shirt with tears openly spilling down his cheeks as his mother reassured him that his twin was alright broke the hearts of all those who had seen, and it wasn't an image Hermione could simply push out of her mind.
George was still a mess; whenever he came in to visit Fred, he looked like he'd had no sleep the night before. With the shop to run, he couldn't stay with Fred as long as he'd like to, which was quite upsetting for George as he wanted to spend every waking minute by his brother's side. He frequently thanked Hermione for spending so much time with Fred and not leaving him by himself, despite the fact that he wasn't awake.
A few of the Weasley's were surprised about the amount of time Hermione spent with Fred; they knew the two of them had gotten along, but they never expected Hermione to be the one who never left his side. However, Hermione knew she'd felt something for Fred for quite some time, and it was confirmed when she found herself missing Fred the most when the trio were on the hunt for horcruxes.
"Wake up, Fred," Hermione whispered, sighing as she examined him. Scars trailed down his neck to his chest, meeting a large bandage that was covering a deep wound at his ribs. The colour had been drained from his face, he almost looked lifeless. He's still here, Hermione thought to herself as tears started stinging her eyes. Blinking them away, she fixed her gaze on his chest, watching it rise and fall evenly as she ran her thumbs along the back of his hand.
"George misses you a lot," she said quietly, desperately hoping he could hear her. "He wants you to come home, it's not very fun for him being in that flat by himself." She gave his hand a squeeze and sighed. She didn't mind that he wasn't responding and anyone that walked in would think she was crazy, talking to Fred brought her comfort. He had always had that effect on her; whenever something was upsetting her and Fred found her, just a few minutes of talking with him easily calmed her down. The last few days had been no different, even if he wasn't able to respond.
"We won," she said gleefully, a warm smile on her face. "We won the war, Freddie. Voldemort's dead, we're all free!" Fred hadn't been awake for the second half of the war, so he was unaware what had happened. "Your mum killed Bellatrix," she said with a laugh. "You would've been so proud."
Mentioning the war made Hermione remember just how close they had gotten to losing Fred, and it brought tears to her eyes. "I don't know what I would've done if we lost you." She sniffled a little, sighing. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I hadn't gotten the chance to tell you how I feel."
Feeling a lump in her throat, Hermione pushed her chair back and stood up. "I'm just going to get a drink, Freddie. I'll be back in a few minutes, I promise." She leaned down to gently kiss his forehead and turned on her heel, beginning to make her way out of the room.
She had just reached the door when she heard a small grunt behind her, followed by the faint rustling of sheets. Hermione whipped around and briskly walked back over to Fred's bed, gripping his hand tightly and watching as he stirred a little. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and Hermione smiled widely at him, a single tear running down her cheek.
"H'mione?" he murmured, blinking a few times and glancing around the room.
"Hi Fred," she said softly, sniffling a little and smiling widely. "Welcome back."
Fred hummed in response, still feeling rather weak and shifted his body a little, wincing when he felt the pain in his rib. "Where's George?"
"He's at the shop, he'll come back as soon as he's finished."
Fred nodded his head and sighed, weakly squeezing her hand then sucking in a breath as he felt a new wave of pain. "He's alright?"
"He's fine," Hermione responded, bringing her hand to softly stroke his forehead. "Your family are all fine."
Fred breathed a sigh of relief and turned his head to get a proper look at Hermione. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in days. "Have you even left this room, Hermione?" His tone was weak, but still held an edge of amusement that Hermione was pleased to hear.
"No," she admitted, laughing a little to herself. "I was more worried about you."
"I appreciate it." At his words, Hermione smiled and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly yet being careful not to crush his wounds.
"I'm so glad you're back."