This is my first attempt at a full-length story rather than a one-shot. It might be slow progress but I'll do my best to keep the story flowing. Please stay with me!

All you recognise in this story belongs to J. with the exception of the two words that somehow inspired this whole thing. "Remember Us" is the message spread by Dilios in the film 300, played by David Wenham.

"This is a message for everyone who can hear it. Spread the word to all who can hear. Remember Us. Remember those people who are preparing to stand and fight the greatest terror the Wizarding World has ever known. Remember those who have had to flee for their lives, and have come together to stand up for those who are not able to do it for themselves. Remember the bravery of all those who have not given up or given in; those who have not slunk away to cower until this is all over. Remember those who have had to endure pain and suffering and still have heart. Remember those who have already met their death fearlessly, sacrificing themselves rather than betraying us all. And most of all, Remember the three bravest people I have ever had the fortune to meet. Remember the Chosen One and the two most loyal and fearless friends anyone could ever have. For the few that are preparing to stand against the unknown many, we need your remembrance. We are fighting to give you a future. Your remembrance gives our lives meaning. We do not know whether we shall survive the upcoming war, and we need to know that, if we die, we have died for a purpose. But it is not just for us; this needs to be the last time the world has to face such evil. No-one else should have to suffer this as we are doing. Remember us, and I dare to hope that next time, there will be too many standing together for the evil-minded to attempt to fight."

Hermione, frozen on the spot, could not help but let the tears stream silently down her cheeks. She had only kept the radio on because Harry and Ron were sleeping and she was getting jumpy sat in the entrance to the tent by herself. She hadn't really been listening; Potterwatch had played a while before, and there had just been muggle jazz playing since. Immediately, she had recognised the voice on the radio; but never before had she heard it so earnest, so sincere. It was a voice far more suited to jokes and laughter, and she had never heard it speak for so long without its sentences being completed by another, very similar one. Oddly, though, she was convinced she knew who it was; Fred. Ginny had said once that he was the more emotionally intelligent of the two and thinking about what she knew of the twins, Hermione found herself agreeing. Both so similar in so many ways, most people wrote Fred and George off as having identical personalities as much as identical features. Hermione had seen an emotional vulnerability in Fred, but no more than the occasional darkness in his eyes and a tendency to brood in front of the common room fire. More than that, though, she just knew it was him.

She found her feelings to be similar to the earnest words Fred had spoken, and she wondered how many might have heard him speak. She would never have contemplated leaving Harry to his fate alone, and more than anything she wished that nothing this terrible could ever happen again. So many people had been killed in the last war and again in the building troubles now. She wished she could hide until it was all over, but knew that no part of her would have been capable of doing so. Remember Us. It was such a simple request, but Hermione knew how powerful those words could be. Resolving to ask him one day, when the war was over, Hermione found her mind a little easier that night.

How long it had been, since they were last gathered here. At Bill and Fleur's wedding there had been that undertone of fear, realised during the reception when everyone had to scatter after the ministry fell. So much had happened, so much that Hermione did not want to think about that day. Today, however, was a celebration at the Burrow. The Weasley family had been reunited at last, three months after the battle. Fred Weasley had recovered from what had been thought of as a fatal accident and this was the first day he had been allowed out of hospital. Mrs Weasley had put the finishing touches to the party decorations and the vast amount of food was laid out on a groaning table in the garden. It seemed, though, that the waiting was getting a little too much for her to deal with. Hermione, seeing the concern tightening the corners of the kindly woman's eyes, made her way over to her.

"Can I make you some tea, Mrs Weasley?"

Blinking, the motherly woman seemed to pull herself together and gave Hermione a smile. "Thank you, dear. There's some in the pot. I hope they do let him out today, the poor boy has been suffering there for so long. It will be nice to have him back at home where I can take proper care of him."

Hermione controlled her smile, wondering how horrified Fred would have been if he had heard his Mother's words. But then, he would probably have more appreciation for it having been through such an ordeal.

She didn't manage to speak to him for the whole of that afternoon. As expected with a house full of Weasleys, there was so much noise and laughter and so many people that Hermione felt as overwhelmed as she was whenever the whole family was gathered. Having spent so many months with just Harry and Ron for company, it was still strange to adjust to the volume and the squashed feeling of there being so many people around. At dinner she found herself between Harry and Ron and across the table from the twins. Ron was stuffing his face as always and Harry was making quiet conversation with Ginny, who sat on his other side. Hermione found herself watching the pair opposite her with some interest. They were easy to tell apart at a distance now. George, baring his battle scars with a fierce type of pride, seemed much as normal until she noticed how carefully he watched Fred, a slight frown creasing his freckled brow whenever he saw something amiss. Fred was still oddly quiet and pale, his hand shaking a little as he lifted his glass. But his smile was certainly genuine and he had not lost the sparkle in his bright blue eyes. His twin's watchfulness was not lost on him but other than the odd touch of a finger on the back of George's hand in a gesture that seemed to bring both of them some reassurance, he did not show that he was aware of it. The mood around the table was jubilant and Hermione let herself join in with the conversation and the laughter, happy to be a part of it.

It was hours later and at last a slight sense of peace had descended on the Weasley household. Harry and Ginny had snuck off somewhere into the gardens; Percy and Ron were involved in a game of Wizard's Chess on the kitchen table which looked to last all night. Mr & Mrs Weasley were sat with Bill and Fleur at the other end of the kitchen, glasses of mead in hand, and chatting softly. Charlie and George were talking Quidditch in the lounge, but with such a level of technicality that Hermione thought they might be speaking another language. Fred was relaxing on a sofa nearby, idly listening to the Quidditch talk but not getting involved. Hermione wandered in from where she had been watching the chess game and paused a little uncertainly, surprised and pleased when Fred's gaze lifted and he smiled slightly. "Stop fussing over everyone else and put your feet up" he said, his voice soft with a hint of laughter behind the words.

Hermione felt her cheeks colour in a slight blush but did as she was told, tucking her feet under her as she sat beside him and returning the smile. "Happy to be back?"

Fred idly rubbed a hand through his untidy hair, leaving reddish gold strands over one eye which Hermione had to fight a strange impulse to push back. "They weren't sure they'd be able to cure me, you know" he said, conversationally. "I might have ended up in St Mungo's forever. It's good to know I'm myself again, that they could cure all of me."

Hermione, remembering Neville's parents, who had been in the hospital since the last war, barely repressed a shiver. All through her school career, Fred and George had burned so brightly. They were so quick and so clever, popular and talented. To see him alive in body but not in mind would have been indescribably awful. "I heard you, you know." She hadn't meant to say it, to blurt out such a peculiar sentence. She knew she had turned red again as she saw genuine confusion etch his brow.

"You really are going to have to explain yourself a little better. I thought you were the intelligent one of the group." It was gently spoken, though, and a faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"On the radio" she elaborated, holding up her hand as the frown deepened. "Not just on Potterwatch she said hastily. "Just you, one night." She looked up at him a little shyly, knowing from the sudden lift of his expression that he knew what she was talking about. "I was alone on watch" she told him, suddenly wanting to share how much his words had affected her. "Harry and Ron were asleep and it was dark outside; I was on edge, feeling so alone. And then I heard your voice; I don't know how I knew it was you, but I did. You were saying what I was thinking. All of our pain, our suffering and everything we lost would be worth it if the world could be changed for the better. If people knew what we had done, and how they could stop such awful things happening again, if only they remembered. I just wanted to say thank you." She met his eyes again for the first time since she had started her explanation and was astonished to see the slight sheen of unshed tears in his eyes.

But he held her gaze, quite unashamed, and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "It needed to be said" he told her, his voice soft, drawing her closer to him so she could hear his words. "I don't know why, but it just felt right to say it then. I thought it so unlikely anyone would hear me, but I had managed to get the words to come together in my head and I needed to say them before they moved apart again. I hoped someone might have heard; that I could have made a difference to just one person. I never expected you might be the one to hear it. It was just so frustrating being stuck in hiding; not being able to do anything useful. George and I talked about tracking you guys down; offering our help. We were so stuck in the middle; not old or well-connected enough to be much of a help for the Order; too old to be helping Ginny out at School. Our shop was out of bounds; our workshop under lockdown. Doing nothing is so much worse than doing something. It's why we started the radio show; but we couldn't do that very often; they were out looking for us. I'm glad you found the station; there was so much we knew you couldn't know and we had no idea how to get the information to you. We did our best but I wish we could have done more."

Hermione could see that he was getting wound up and his voice had raised enough for George to cast him a quick, concerned glance. She touched his arm lightly and he seemed to gather himself together, taking a deep breath. "If it wasn't for you, we'd have been caught and killed so many times over" she told him, watching his face with interest as his brain kicked in.

"Harry had some of our stuff, didn't he?" Fred said, the answer dawning on him.

Hermione nodded; relieved to see the darkness had faded from his eyes. "We wouldn't have escaped from the Ministry without you" she said. "Your inventions were all that saved us from certain death. Really, you and George helped us more than anyone else. And if it wasn't for what you said on the radio, I don't think I'd have been strong enough to keep Harry going. Just knowing someone out there was thinking about us made me feel as if we weren't so alone."

"We were always thinking about you guys" Fred told her, his voice soft again and his ready smile tugging just slightly at his lips. "Honestly. When Bill told us he'd seen you, we were so relieved. And seeing you, when we all got to the school…" he trailed off and, for a moment, looked down at his hands, before he gathered himself. "You three gave us all hope that we could actually achieve the impossible."

It wasn't what he was going to say, she was sure of it. But she also knew she wouldn't be able to get the truth from him. As long as she had known them, Hermione had to admit that she did not know the twins very well. They had been at school together for so long, and she had spent holidays with them, but she had barely spent any time alone with them. It was strange, but she found that she was oddly comfortable sitting here with Fred, speaking softly in such an intimate way. She felt that the words they had shared were for their ears only, that this conversation would remain between them.

"We didn't intend to go to the school to fight" Hermione told him. The admission made him start in surprise and she was not even sure why she had said it. But it hadn't sat right with her. Everyone presumed they were there to save the day, but they had only gone to Hogwarts to find the Horcrux they hoped might be there. It had always felt to her as if they had a huge stroke of luck. It could have gone so badly if Voldemort had chosen another location for the part of his soul they hunted. She had expected a look of betrayal at least but when she glanced up she saw a good measure of understanding in eyes she had never realised were so expressive.

"You were on the mission Dumbledore gave you, I know" Fred said. "With a children's story book, a snitch that wouldn't open and a toy to put out lights; how brilliantly Dumbledore." He looked down at her with an expression Hermione couldn't read for a moment, then gave her a grin. "Only Gryffindors would have shown such mad bravery and thrown themselves into that mission without question. Did you ever feel that it shouldn't have been you?"

It was a question no-one else had dared ask her, and she was sure she wouldn't answer honestly. And so, she surprised herself when she nodded. "I did wonder how it was possible the world's fate rested on three people who were barely alive when Voldemort had been vanquished the first time. We were so young, so inexperienced with magic. We had no idea what we were doing or where we were going. It was difficult when Harry first admitted that he had not been given any direction by Dumbledore; that he didn't know what we should be doing next. For months, we just went around in circles, so confused. Always afraid, always moving on. But as it turns out that the only way Harry lived through the ordeal was by being the one to sacrifice himself, I have to be thankful we were the ones who did it. Anyone else would have had to kill Harry to kill Voldemort. I can't look at it any other way, otherwise the things that happened along the way become too hard to bear." It was her turn to have her eyes fill with tears. It may have been three months, but she was yet to have a night free of nightmares. The battles, the vision of the snake lunging to attack them but, most of all, the torture she was put through at Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix Lestrange might have been dead, but the horror of the Cruciatus curse was something Hermione was sure she would never recover from.

A gentle touch to her hand brought her back to the present with a jump and she blinked rapidly, feeling one tear spill over as she did. The tear was caught with one deft finger as Fred gently stroked her cheek.

"Bad dreams?" he whispered.

Hermione nodded slightly, seeing the understanding glow in his eyes. Of all the ways she would have described Fred Weasley before that moment, empathetic would have never made it onto the list. But he was the first person since the war that she had spoken to and the first person she was sure understood more than what she was explaining. "You too?"

"One of the curses that hit me during the explosion has not left my body" he told her. "George knows, and Dad, but we're keeping it quiet. There's nothing anyone can do about it at the moment, so there's not point worrying Mum or the others. It's doing the best it can to pull me apart but I'm not letting it win. It's during the nights that it takes me over, when I'm not conscious and able to fight it off. The nightmares it gives me are unbelievable." He broke off and shrugged, a little awkwardly. "I kind of know what you're going through, so if you need to talk it out with anyone, I'll get it."

"Thanks, but I don't want to make things worse for you" Hermione said, touched by the offer.

Fred snorted. "Waking hours, I'm fine" he told her. "Besides, who are you going to talk to? Ginny's got her hands full for quite some time with Harry's troubles. Are you seriously suggesting you should go to go to Ron?"

The disbelief in his tone made Hermione giggle involuntarily but she was pleased to see the old twinkle back in his eyes. "You make a persuasive argument" she agreed. "It's a deal, but only if it's two-way. You can talk to me too. I know you've got George but I could be a non-biased opinion for you?"

"Deal" Fred said holding out a hand.

Hermione shook it, unable to resist his smile for more than a moment. She had always wondered at the blinding innocence of the twins' smiles, considering they were usually anything but innocent when they used them. This smile was different, though. It was softer, with a gentle look in his eyes she had never seen before. It was an attractive smile, and she found herself hoping she might see it again.

Their talk broken up at that point by George demanding Fred's opinion on a Quidditch match they had both taken part in, Hermione felt a slight regret that their time together was over, but also a measure of relief. She had been confused by their sudden closeness, and more so by the feeling that it was, well, normal. She had known Fred for seven years and was sure that was the longest conversation they had ever had. But she resolved to keep her promise to him; to be there if he felt he needed to talk. She found that she liked this new side of him, and wanted to find out what more there was she didn't know. Fred was sent off to bed shortly after their conversation had ended and Hermione left shortly after, glad of some peace after the noise of the day. She got ready for bed and slid under the covers, wondering what the night had in store for her uneasily. As she had ever since she had shared a bedroom with someone else, she cast a silencing charm on herself before she lay down. It was bad enough having nightmares every night without forcing Ginny to deal with them as well. But sleep came easily for once, a flash of twinkling bright blue eyes appearing just before she drifted off.