I held Ron against me, shielding the both of us from the glass splintering and shattering in our direction. I didn't care about him. He wasn't who I was worried about. As surely as I had glimpsed the last laugh on the man's face had I realised why he was so optomistic about life.
"Fred!"
"Fred? No, Fred!"
Shaking, I flung Ron's arm away from me and ran towards the tall body cradled in his sister's and twin brother's arms. It was Fred Weasley for Merlin's sake. He could not die. He would jump up and say something witty and sarcastic, I knew it, deep down.
Tears fled their way from my eyes as I held Ginny's hand. No one knew. I was just a spare part, everyone thought, considering the family he had with him and me and Harry, I had no real relationship to Fred at all. How little they knew. Silent sobs smothered everybody's senses. And I regretted it. I still do. I never told the bonkers, stupidly brilliant Fred Weasley that I loved him.
The shortest piece I have ever written! I don't normally write any Hermione/Fred, or any other Weasley for that matter, so this is new to me. What do you think?