A/N It's been a while since I've written HP fanfiction but I miss it and my huge love of Hermione and the Weasley Twins, mostly Fred, together. So, I've written something new...and the old stuff will slowly make it's way back up as I edit and go through it all again. Hope you enjoy.

Rain was trailing down the window outside but Hermione couldn't really have cared less. Counting the number of times the sun had risen and fallen, she was confident she'd been in the same chair for three days at least. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Not the rain, not the fact that Voldemort was dead, not all the celebrating...

Fred was gone.

She had sat on the Great Hall floor for hours after Voldemort fell, silently willing Fred to wake up. He didn't. Today was supposed to be his funeral. Fitting that it should pour the rain down. Hermione couldn't remember a day she had ever felt more dead or hopeless. Even the months she spent with Harry and Ron hunting down the bits and pieces of Voldemort's soul hadn't seen her in such a mood as she was now.

"Hermione."

She winced at the voice that was so close to his, however the tone was off. Fred's voice had never sounded flat and hollow.

"George," she returned, only her voice barely sounded from a dry throat.

Low steps sounded behind her until they were close and stopped, a freckled hand holding an envelope in front of her. "I found this."

She reached for the sealed envelope without thought and shortly after taking it, George turned around and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Staring down at her neatly printed name on the front for several minutes she wondered if she had really cried herself dry. There was only one person it could be from if George was the one bringing it to her.

Her hands shaking, she pulled the envelope open slowly and slid the folded up parchment out like she was handling a sensitive stink bomb. As the parchment left its confines the slightest draft wafted up to her face and she caught his scent which made her throat tighten. The parchment fell in her lap as it slipped from her fingers and after a few minutes of fumbling she finally got it opened and straightened out. Inside was Fred's awful handwriting that she would never forget.

Hermione,

I really hope you never have to see this. I hope when the war is over I can burn this and take you to the nearest party to celebrate. But, sitting here in my apartment after working on another new invention that has once again left me without eyebrows (yes, really, I know you could fix them but I say it's character building) while you're out helping Harry and whatnot, I got to thinking...there's other things I hope for you too...even if I can't be with you.

Four years and no one but you and I and...George (I know, I'm sorry...you knew he'd know before long) know about you and me. It's funny that three months ago I gave you a ring you can't even wear yet. Maybe I should have waited...but I couldn't, you know patience and I don't get along. Anyway, our track record is pretty good, and you should know now, since I can't be there to tell my family and bring yours back with you, that it's been a secret I've kept with extreme difficulty. I wish I could've been able to tell the world that I'm the one who knows everything about you. I know how to make you laugh, what makes you angry, when you're afraid and don't want to let it show.

Hermione, I hope, more than anything, that you don't let me be the last person to experience the wonder that is you. You are not alone and I hope you don't make yourself that way. Your friends will always be there, my family will do all that they can. They all love you, Hermione. And wherever I am now, I'm with you, even if you can't hear me or see me, I'll always be that annoying voice in the back of your head telling you to lighten up and smile because your eyes shine when you do. I'll always be the sun shining on your face.

Live a full, amazing, and happy life.

Love always,

Fred

Hermione felt numb. She had thought perhaps upon reading it that she'd feel something but there was nothing left. The sun wasn't shining and there was no reason to smile. How could he think just leaving her a little letter would make everything okay if he wasn't there?

Now it was time for responsibility, she'd have to get up, shower, get dressed and make an appearance at his funeral. Tossing the letter aside she pulled herself up from the chair, stiff and sore from her prolonged time in it and methodically showered and dressed in the outfit someone had laid in her room yesterday. Several knocks on the door asked if she was okay but she didn't answer and so far everyone had been smart enough not to come inside.

Until Ron, that is...

"Hermione? It's almost time to..." He stopped mid sentence when Hermione turned a vicious glare on him. "Okay," he finished.

He watched with concern for a minute before braving moving forward to sit beside her on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. "You know, Hermione, Fred wouldn't want everyone to be so upset. He'd probably make fun of us all if he saw..."

"What would you bloody well know about what he wants?" Hermione snapped, shaking Ron's arm off from around her shoulders.

He blinked like she'd slapped him. "Hermione, he...he was my brother and I think...where did that come from?" Ron said, his eyes narrowing on her left hand as he noticed what was occupying her attention.

"Fred," she responded without emotion. "He gave it to me almost a year ago, so when the war was over we wouldn't have to waste any time. Now he's gone, and you need to get out."

Ron's jaw flapped. "You and Fred were...together?"

"Four years."

"But..." Ron said, trying to process the new information.

"Just get out, Ron," Hermione replied, her voice deadpan.

Ron hesitated to fill her request, taking a few moments and looking several times more like he was going to ask a question, though wisely did not. Finally the door closed behind him and Hermione turned her attention back to the ring on her finger. She remembered the day he'd given it to her. They'd snuck out for a walk when everyone else was otherwise occupied. The sun had been brilliant that day and the stone had sparkled from every angle.

Now, in the dim light as the rain poured down, the stone looked as lifeless as Fred was. Hermione stared at it blankly for several minutes before she headed out of her room to bury her heart under the ground.

End note: Will this be a happy or sad story? Well...that's for me to know and you to find out. :)