DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Still.

Voldemort's reign of terror was over; defeated by the Boy Who Lived with little more than a Disarming Charm. All around the Great Hall families sat huddled together, thankful for one another, others were treated for the injuries they sustained. There was one side they all stayed clear of - the partitioned off corner where the fighters who perished lay, finally at rest.

Hermione Granger wanted nothing more at that moment than to be away from it all. She walked past the Weasley family, watched Molly hug and kiss and fawn over her brood. Draco Malfoy and his family sat close together, off in a corner of the room, unsure if they would be accepted by the winning side. A smile flashed across his face when he saw her. Instinctively, she returned it before Lucius Malfoy noticed.

The hallways were all but deserted, save for those searching the grounds for...well, anyone. Hermione made her way up one flight of stairs, then another and another, breaking into a jog towards the moving staircase until she finally reached the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. It would be quieter and much more peaceful. The perfect place to think, she told herself. She could rationalize the war, her actions, their actions, dissect and analyze the events leading up to the war. She had to think, had to keep her mind off of things, of people.

The night air was slightly chilled, the sky a starless black. It would be a few minutes before her eyes could adjust to such darkness. It would be a few minutes before she realized she wasn't alone in her sanctuary.

Red hair.

It shouldn't have been so illuminated on a night like this.

Her heart picked up speed as she moved closer to the figure in front of her, the backside facing her direction. She couldn't make out who it was aside from the fiery red hair and tall stature.

"George?" she guessed. The person didn't acknowledge her. She called out again. "Bill?" Still nothing. Tears stung her eyes, the back of her hand viciously swatting them away.

The man before her turned now to face her. "It can't be," she whispered, her hands covering her mouth, holding in the sobs she knew would surely wrack her body any moment now.

"It's alright," he told her, closing the distance in a few quick strides. His arms reached out to envelop her, but Hermione jumped back.

"But I saw you," she head shook, trying to clear her mind. "You weren't moving. Percy said you were...were..."

"I'm right here," he assured her. "A little rattled, some bumps and bruises, a nasty headache, sure, but I'm okay." He took a small, tentative step towards her; this time she let him. Hermione's arms wrapped around his waist when he was within arm's reach of her.

"You're real?" she sobbed against his shirt, though she felt the beginnings of a smile reach her lips. "You're really real?"

A slight chuckle escaped him as he comfortingly held her as close to his own body was he could. "I'm really real."

Hermione pulled away slightly, looking into his deep blue eyes, taking in each freckle that dotted his nose, loving the way strands of silky red hair fell across his forehead. And then she smacked him.

"What was that for?" he asked, offendedly clutching the sore shoulder the slap made more painful.

"Fred Weasley," she yelled, "you scared the living hell out of me! Don't even get me started on your poor mother. She's completely beside herself. She keeps hugging George and then pushing him away, hoping that he'll suddenly become you. How could you?"

The usually cheerful face of Fred Weasley fell at that moment. "I didn't mean to," he murmured, moving away from her to lean over the railing. Quickly, he pulled away as he saw bodies carried back into the castle. A hand on his back made him turn around to face her again.

"I didn't mean to yell," she apologized. A smile lit his face as her hands touched his sides, his stomach, his arms.

Fred shook his head. "It's fine, I deserve a bit of it," he told her. "Although, I was pretty unconscious, so it's not as if there was a lot that I could help. Why, may I ask, do you keep touching me?"

Crimson stained her cheeks as her arms fell to her sides. "I...it's just...I'm trying to make sure...if I touch you I know this is real. If I touch you, then you can't just disappear."

Fred wrapped his arms around her once more. "I told you," he said with a laugh, "I'm really here. Cross my heart, I'm not going anywhere for as long as I can help it."

"Don't...don't say that," she chided, a fresh wave of tears coming. Hermione clung tighter to the man in front of her, small hands clenching his shirt. They stood silently for what seemed like hours, just holding onto each other for dear life. "You should really come down to see your family," she finally spoke, reluctantly breaking the silence.

Fred nodded. "Just a few more minutes," he decided, tightening his arms around her. "I rather like this position we're currently in."

Hermione smiled against his chest before turning her head up to look him in the eye. The deep pools of oceanic blue were fixated on her; she could feel them boring a hole through her. She wasn't even thinking, to hell with the consequences, as she reached a shaking hand to touch his cheek. The skin was soft and warm against her palm, as he leaned into the touch, eyes closing. Fred bent his head, closing the inches between them. His lips touched her forehead first, then moved down to her nose, her left cheek, her right cheek, then finally brushed softly over her lips. The pair moved perfectly in sync with one another; Hermione's hands running the length of his back, while Fred's gently caressed her neck, his thumb running over the scar at the base of her throat. He pulled away first to catch his breath, his forehead resting against hers.

"We should really go downstairs now," Hermione, ever the voice of reason, said when she'd finally caught her breath.

Fred nodded in agreement as a smile played at his lips. "You're right. Hey, you think I can convince George that he's seeing himself?"

She laughed a hearty laugh. "No, we can all tell you apart now."

"It's the ear, isn't it?" he inquired seriously, an arm snaking around her waist.

Hermione shook her head, laughter not ebbing. "I'm glad we still have you," she told him, leaning into his side.

"Yes, life would be pretty boring without me," he replied, slowly making their way down to the Great Hall.

The End.