A/N: This is my first multi-chap…so…let's see where this goes. I've written five chapters ahead, but after that, I just have to hope my muse doesn't quit on me. Wish me luck.

1- This is all written in Hermione's POV, unless of course I've stated otherwise.

2- The title will make sense later, I swear.

3- This fic is kind of angsty in places, but not terribly so, at least not in my opinion.

4- This chapter is somewhere between a chapter and a prologue.

I honestly cannot bear to kill off Fred Weasley. I can't do it. Can't can't can't can't won't. So I decided to put him in a coma for a bit, then get him out of said coma (eventually.) But I don't want to give *too* much away. I don't think I can anyways, because even I'm not sure where I'm going with this.

After the war, Fred Weasley is in a coma. Trying to put an end to George's despair, Hermione offers him a chance to bring Fred back. An ancient spell gives the two a trip into the mind of the ringleader of the prankster duo, enabling them to see his secrets, relive his memories, and perhaps revive him.

Spirantexcitarent

"Well…what now?" Ron asks. His voice shatters the fragile silence in the desecrated room. His eyes dart around, taking in the remains of the dormitory he slept in for six years of his life.

Ginny sighs heavily and lowers herself to the tattered crimson and gold rug spread over the floor. Numbly, she tangles her hands in her dirt-streaked hair and hides her tear-streaked face from view. The spacious room begins to fill with the sound of soft weeping.

"Bring him to St. Mungo's," I reply. My voice is flat and hollow, toneless as an answering machine.

"We need to Floo Charlie," Percy adds, exhaustion apparent in his voice. He sits at the head of one of the four-posters, rather far from the rest of us, and stares blankly into space. His empty, expressionless blue eyes are magnified by his scratched horn-rimmed glasses.

"I'll find Mum and Dad so we can all get the hell out of here," Ron says. He has the overwhelmed voice of someone who's seen far too much for one day, much less a lifetime. It's times like this when I have to remind myself that we're all just kids, too quickly broken from war. So young to be fighting so hard. Deciding that any more pacing might wear a hole right through the floor, I sit next to Ron and he leans his head on my shoulder.

The anxious quiet overtakes the dormitory once again. Our interactions are awkward, almost forced. There are an infinite number of things we'd rather be doing at this exact moment. Sleeping, for one. Eating, showering, crying. We're floating in a state of numb shock, crying more out of exhaustion that true grief. Human emotion will come later, after our broken bodies heal from the tolls of war. Celebration will come after that. This could take a while.

Harry inhales sharply, tucking his knees to his chest. Our eyes sweep the ruined room and I catch his overwhelmed emerald gaze. Silently, we agree that I'll have to be the one to say the words we've all been dancing around since we entered the room.

"We need to tell George," I murmur, focusing my eyes on the shredded rug and absentmindedly fiddling with Ron's shoelaces.

"Hermione-" Percy starts.

"We need to tell George," I repeat, forcing a tone of sternness into my quivering voice. I raise my head, meeting Percy's eyes with faked defiance.

"Do you know what that'll do to him?" Ron protests incredulously, standing up abruptly.

"Yes!" I shout back, leaping to my feet. "But Fred's alive-"

"He's in a coma," Ron says bluntly. He stops, sighing heavily and running a hand through his disheveled red hair. "Can't we just…wait for him to come out of it-"

"You've obviously been driven mad with grief because that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say, Ronald. Merlin knows how long that would take," I snap. "And besides, it's his twin we're talking about; he has a right to know."

"You're being completely irrational, mate. He'll find out sooner or later, and it's not right to try to keep him in the dark," Harry says gently, walking to Ron and placing a hand on his arm.

"They're right, you know," Percy chimes in. "Mum and Dad might not be able to tell him, Charlie doesn't know yet, I don't know if Bill does either…" he pauses, adjusts his damaged glasses. "Fred's not dead…just…comatose. We have to tell him."

The dusty air in the dormitory seems to still as Ron holds Percy's piercing authoritarian gaze for a long moment before giving just the slightest of nods. Something in the depths of his cerulean eyes seems to break and he turns his back to us, covering his face with his hands. His lanky, bloodied body wracks with silent sobs.

"Let's find Mum and Dad," Ginny says softly, resting a hand on Ron's trembling shoulder.

As though just becoming aware of himself, Ron lifts his head from his hands and follows his younger sister's quick strides as she leads us through the dwindling groups of people drifting about the corridors. The castle echoes with ragged shouts of joy and grief. Names of siblings, children, friends ring though the stagnant air like gunshots. Screams of happiness and shock intermingle. It's the dichotomy of celebration and sorrow that overwhelms me, paired with the magnitude of Harry's achievement and the unfathomable depth of our gratitude.

At yet, we know this is just the beginning. We know that when we return to our homes and carry on without the people we've lost, we'll experience the true impact of battle. You don't know what you have until you've lost it. I want to kick myself for all the times I've yelled at the twins for their destructive yet ingenious creations.

"Mum!" Ginny shouts as we reach the entrance to what's left of the Great Hall.

"Ginny!"

As though momentarily blind to the rest of us, Molly runs toward her only daughter, hugging her tightly before turning to Ron, Harry, and I. "You're okay, thank Merlin, you're okay," she gasps, pulling us into her arms.

"Percival? Percival Ignatius Weasley?" she asks disbelievingly as she releases us. She stares at her third son as though seeing him for the first time.

"Fred forgave me," he tells her in a cracked whisper. "I'm sorry-"

"I only hope George can find it in himself to do the same," she cuts him off. Harry's eyes widen slightly at the uncharacteristic coldness in the matriarch's voice. She doesn't speak another word to or about Percy.

"Where's George?" Harry asks cautiously.

Instantly, something flashes across Molly's light brown eyes. Something I've never seen in her before- pure, unbridled fear. Her voice drops several octaves. "On the Astronomy Tower. He wouldn't!" she adds hastily when Ginny looks absolutely petrified. "He wouldn't do that."

"Does he know yet?" Ron whispers.

"I think…on some deeper level, he knows something is amiss. He said he was going up to the Tower, and that we should tell Fred to meet him there, but…his voice kind of cracked on that last part…I think he thinks Fred is…Fred…"

"It's fine, Mum. We know you mean, you…you don't have to…" Ron says quickly.

Molly nods, squeezes her eyes shut. "Well, he's probably assumed…the worst…but he needs one of us to tell him what actually happened…it won't be that much easier, but it's a slightly better situation…he can't break the denial himself."

"Where's Fred, then?" Harry inquires.

"Luna and Bill brought him up to Ravenclaw Tower, since it's generally one of the calmest areas…they're keeping him in Luna's old dormitory until we all collect and…take him to St. Mungo's…Arthur's with him, too." She stops to inhale deeply, trying to stop sniffling.

"We tried to tell George the situation, but he insists Fred was probably…probably pranking us…I don't know who we could send that he'll actually believe…"

"Well, let's think about it," I sigh. "We can't send Percy, Harry…Harry's done enough for one day, he probably won't listen to Ron…it'd have to be either me or Ginny."

Ginny's eyes widen. "I…I can go, but I don't know if I'd do any better…"

"Why not?" Ron asks, frowning slightly.

"He'd probably accuse me of being in on a prank with Fred."

"Hermione…you've got the best shot. George wouldn't think you'd ever be in on a joke like this," Harry tells me.

I swallow the lump of apprehension working its way up my painfully constricted throat. "I guess that's the only way, then."

"I'm afraid so," Molly sighs. "You should go sooner rather than later. It's getting dark and the sooner we gather everyone, the better. I don't think anyone wants to stay here much longer."

I crane my head up toward the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall. The sky has rapidly gone from a hazy, smoggy canvas of pastel blues, pinks, and greys to an endless expanse of suffocating black as dark as pitch. The brilliant stars and the sliver of a crescent moon are obscured by passing puffs of dark smoke from smouldering ruins and wreckage. Occasionally, red or green sparks are shot into the air, not in celebration but in order to indicate locations, to draw families back together. They remind me of the wonderous, over-the-top fireworks displays of Fred and George-

"I'll go now," I say decisively, forcibly cutting off my own thoughts.

"I have a stop to make. Someone to visit," Harry adds. "We'll all meet in Ravenclaw Tower, then?"

"Good luck," Ginny says to us, embracing us both. Molly and Ron follow suit.

Percy glances at me, unsure. I see horrible sadness in his eyes, heart-wrenching guilt. Molly and Ginny will barely look his direction, Ron is too angry to forgive him quite yet, and Harry seems hesitant to welcome Percy back after what he did. It's not that I've fully forgiven him, but I know that he wasn't the cause of Fred's…state…

"Walk with me?" I ask, offering my hand.

He nods, averting his eyes, and takes my hand gently. His grip is loose, and I feel a slick sheen of sweat on his palm.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," I tell him, my voice lowered as we pass a young woman leaning over the corpse of a boy.

"It should be me, Hermione. I was the one who left." His voice is low, deep, even. He keeps his eyes steadily downcast. "It would be far less upsetting for them if it was me."

"They'll forgive you, at their own paces. You're family. Family comes together in hard times. If Fred forgave you, I'm sure they will."

"Do you think he'll come out of it?"

"I hope so."

We halt suddenly before two bodies lying side by side. A tall, heavily scarred man with shocks of grey in his hair and patched, raggedy robes. Beside him is a younger woman with a heart-shaped face and, even in death, spiky, bubblegum pink hair.

"Goodbye, Professor Lupin," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. Percy squeezes my hand, then relinquishes his grip almost altogether. "Goodbye, Tonks."

"Orchedious," he says, his wand aimed at the slight space between them. A beautiful wreath springs from the tips of his wand to the ground, much like the one I created for James and Lily's grave.

"I should hurry on," I say. He doesn't look up, just nods. "None of this is your fault, Percy."

He mumbles something unintelligible, then crouches by Professor Lupin's feet. I pat his shoulder before turning and jogging through the corridors, dodging people and trick steps in my haste.