JK Rowling is finished with the Harry Potter series, so obviously I cannot take credit for any of the real Harry Potter novels. If I were JKR, then this story wouldn't exist.

This story takes place after Deathly Hallows, thus containing MANY spoilers. DO NOT read if you have not yet read Deathly Hallows.

ALSO! Completely disregard the Epilogue!

Suggestions are always welcome and reviews are much loved. Only takes a second!

Chapter 1: After the Battle

Hermione Granger retreated to Gryffindor Tower after she, Harry, and Ron had visited the Headmaster's office. Harry set off to return the Elder Wand to a safe place while Ron went to be with his family. Hermione needed time to herself, to let everything sink in: Voldemort's downfall, the deaths of Lupin, Tonks, Fred, so many others, even before the battle began. The wizarding world had almost lost The Boy Who Lived himself.

Bits of plaster fell from the ceiling while a cold breeze whistles through cracks in the windows. The Dementors must've sensed the loss of their leader and their disappointment caused the unseasonable chill and mist. Hermione bundled her torn cloak closer, but the chill she felt had nothing to do with the wind. She didn't think she could even cry anymore as she desperately tried to push thoughts of the battle away.

Barely noticed, a house-elf came and lit a fire for the girl with the tear stained cheeks. He covered her with a blanket and pat her on the head affectionately before he left with a crack. After all, this was the girl responsible for trying to make house-elves' lives better.

Hermione shifted her thoughts to Ron and her heart immediately sank lower than it already was. She kissed him. It was bound to happen in the 7 years they had known each other. But now that it had happened, Hermione realized she and Ron were not supposed to be together. At the time it felt right, when at any moment they could've died, but now that they were safe, she could form her thoughts properly. She thought Ron felt the same, since the two avoided each other's eyes since the downfall of the Dark Lord.

The flames crackling in the crumpling fireplace stirred her from her thoughts. She could feel something sticky and warm on her back and all the way down the outside of her left leg. She had noticed no pain until just now when she was forced from her thoughts. Sighing, she stood up, only to stumble and fall back onto the red sofa she had been occupying. She was still losing blood; her cloak must've covered any bloodstains from view.

Standing again, slower this time, she made her way to the portrait hole and climbed out awkwardly. She made her way down seven stories, gripping the railings tightly, and even sitting on a step as a staircase shifted it's position. She made it to the doors of the great hall, her vision getting dark around the edges, when she heard Ginny shriek:

"He's alive! Fred's alive! Mum! Come quick!"

Hermione could even make one more step forward as she passed out in the doorway.

-----

"Bellatrix must've hit her with a slicing curse, before you stepped in Molly," the familiar voice of Poppy Pomfrey drifted into Hermione's thoughts. Was she still dreaming?

Opening her eyes, she saw the ceiling of the great hall; stars were beginning to reappear in the twilight sky. Looking around, she saw Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley standing around her. Upon seeing her awake, Mrs. Weasley grinned and her eyes started shimmering with tears.

"Oh! Hermione, dear, you're awake! We were so worried about you." She said happily. Madam Pomfrey rushed off to another patient lying close by.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. She felt groggy and strongly medicated. "I came to the Great Hall. Someone shouted that- oh but it must've been a dream."

"What was a dream, dear?" Mrs. Weasley questioned. Hermione remained silent. She didn't want to upset the woman by bringing up that she dreamt her son was alive. "Well?"

"It was- well, Fred. He…" she trailed off, feeling extremely sad and uncomfortable. Mrs. Weasley's smile got even wider and her tears started to fall.

"He is alive, Hermione!" She finished for the girl. With that Hermione bolted upright to look for him. She regretted sitting up immediately as a waved of dizziness washed over her and her head began to ache. Still, she searched the room for Fred, but could not see him. He was surrounded by his rather large family in the cot right next to Hermione's.

Ron noticed she was awake first and came over to her, obviously relieved she was alright. They looked at each other and an unspoken agreement passed between them: they would remain friends.

"You've got some wicked scars on your back and leg," he said. "Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?"

"I didn't realized," she answered. "I could only think of Lupin and Tonks and Fred. But Fred, he's-"

"I'm alright, Hermione," Fred interrupted, shifting the Weasely's attention the her. "Thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" she repeated, confused.

"Yeah, you. You and that massive brain of yours."

"Are you finally going to tell us what happened, Fred?" George whined impatiently. He hated not knowing something about his twin.

"Now that Hermione's here to explain what I can't. I overheard her talking about this spell, a rare one. That how she saved me. I was hit with it, before the hallway collapsed over us. I couldn't move, but I could see and think."

"Suspended Animation," Hermione said, understanding what happened. "But how did I save you?"

"I remembered what you said, after panicking, of course. I thought I was dead, but stuck in my body. But when I remembered you talking about it, I knew I had to stop trying to get out."

"Because the longer you try to escape, the less likely it is the spell will be lifted. It can only wear away when the victim accepts being trapped. So, if you knew what you had to do, why did it take so long for the spell to wear off?" Hermione asked. The rest of the Weasley took in the conversation, completely ignored by Fred and Hermione.

"Every time I got feeling back in my fingers and toes, I guess I wiggled them too excitedly. I would just end up freezing again. So I let my mind shut down and went to sleep. When I woke up, everyone was crying. They thought it was an awful joke when I jumped up and shouted 'Surprise!'" The Weasley's chuckled at the thought now, but Hermione could only imagine how shocked they must have been at the time. Mrs. Weasley probably became hysterical.

A million questions were racing through Hermione's head. Not many people reversed the Suspended Animation spell. Now wasn't the time to bother Fred though, and for once, Hermione didn't even want to learn.

Harry returned to the Hall when all the stars were glittering in the sky. He needed time alone, but was very, very angry with the Weasley's for not telling him sooner about Fred. George retold the story for Harry's benefit, making sound like it was all a great joke. Mrs. Weasley was not amused, but at the same time she couldn't help smiling.

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The fighters who did not survive the Battle of Hogwarts were buried on school grounds in a remote spot near the edge of the forest. Hedges blocked in the small cemetery; Neville and Professor Sprout landscaped the area beautifully with flowers and blooming bushes. In the days that followed the battle, visitors from all over Europe visited the sight to pay their respects to those who died to make the world safer.

Harry had to stay at Hogwarts while people were still coming. Many traveled a great distance to see the Boy Who Lived-And Almost Died-But Lived To Kill Voldemort. Many of the wounded, including Fred and Hermione, had to stay to make sure they were healed. Ron stayed to complete the Trio. People wanted to meet Harry's two best friends as much as Harry himself. Professor McGonagall stayed to oversee the reconstruction of Hogwarts.

The Weasley's returned to the Burrow and most everyone else left as well. They had to begin their lives without fear of death, without fearing for their families, and without fearing saying 'Voldemort.'

--TBC--

This chapter is just basically a prologue to my story and also how I would end DH. More to come

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