A/N: Just a little one-shot that came to me while I was writing my other Fred/Hermione story, which everyone should of course go read :). This is my take on Deathly Hallows and Fred's death. I'm still trying to deny that he actually died, but I'm dealing. Just read and review, just something I came up with, so if it's not good, well it's not like its some huge storyline I've slaved over. But please, please review. Tell me what you think, good, bad, and in between. Thanks!

She had been fighting along side him, the ultimate battle. Him and Percy had convened to transfigure and stun the two Death Eaters they were fighting, and they had met up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione outside the Room of Requirement.

He had given her a cheeky grin as all five of them convened to stun one of the Death Eaters. Percy transfigured the minister, after a wisecrack abour resigning. Fred was besides himself.

"You actually are joking, Perce….I don't think I've heard you joke since you were –" and then he was gone. They were stupid, just huddled around there in a group. He died because they spent too much time celebrating a small, insignificant victory.

He wouldn't get to celebrate any victory, not even the victory over the final battle.

He was gone. His eyes were silent, as blue as she remembered them, but silent. There was not reflection of laughter or mirth; no hint of mischievousness or guilt.

Silence.

She ran to him, her arms wrapping themselves around his frame. She cried tears into his shoulder as she called out his name. "Fred! Fred! No, this can't be. NO! You can't die now, Fred, not now."

Tears overtook her as she sat there, not even caring that there was a war raging on all around her. He was gone. He was never going to smile at her again; he was never going to laugh with her again. His eyes would no longer look at her, black as night, like she was the most beautiful witch he had ever known.

"Fred, you can't leave. You'll never get to know your baby," Hermione said softly so that no one but Fred, if he could listen, would be able to hear. "I'm pregnant, Fred. I know you would have been a good father, and an amazing husband. Just remember that I'll always love you, and that I said yes."

She sat back, placing his body gently on the floor. She placed her left hand, her diamond sparkling in the sunlight that was peeking through the gaping holes in the castle walls, on his chest, and with one last look, and one single tear running down her cheek, she said goodbye to the man who would always hold her heart.

She got up, seeing red in her eyes, whoever killed her lover was going to pay. She wasn't seeing clearly, rage taking over her body. She wanted to avenge his death; avenge the fact that his baby was going to grow up without him.

--

Months went by. Hermione decided to move quietly to Australia to be with her parents. She immediately took off all the spells she had placed on them, so that they were once again the small close-knit family they were. She decided to raise the baby on her own, knowing that Fred would never forgive her if she gave away their child. Her parents were supportive as she went through the trials and tribulation of pregnancy, labor, and raising an infant alone.

Hermione was the strongest witch of her age.

Little Jace Weasley had his father's blue eyes and ginger hair. He was the happiest baby, only frowning every so often. He liked to laugh and play with Hermione's hair when she held him, no matter how many times she told him no.

Hermione loved her son, and as he grew she noticed how much the boy was his father's child. She smiled as she watched him zoom his toy trucks around the sitting room while she sat and read a book.

"Mommy, look at what this twuck can do," he said playfully as he made engine noises and the sound of screeching tires and had the truck jump from the top of one block building to the next. "Isn't it amazing, Mommy. It's a mag-e-cal twuck, just like you."

"Yes, sweetie, just like me."

Hermione watched in silence as her son busied himself with the small play village he had made out of blocks, cars, and Lego people.

"Mommy."

"What, Jacey?"

"Was my daddy mag-e-cal too, like my twuck?" Jace's eyes sparkled innocently as his question reverberated around the room.

Hermione gave him a small smile. She hadn't told him much about his father, the pain just too prevelant. She had in fact, for the most part, kept him away from England, and away from the rest of the Weasley clan. She had brought him to visit them only twice in the three years of his life. She made excuses like the best of them, most revolving around the stresses of single parenthood and living in a country so far from England.

They seemed to understand, but Molly was rather distraught over the fact her own grandson wasn't around so she could feed him some of her amazing cooking.

Hermione didn't like to think about Fred too much. She cried every time she did, and she had to be stronger than that. She was stronger than that.

She was Hermione Granger, superwitch who helped Harry Potter defeat Voldemort.

But that defeat certainly came at a price, she thought.

"Yes, Jace, your dad was magical too."

He smiled up at her and went back to playing with his trucks. Hermione sighed, sooner or later Jace would become even more inquisitive about his dad, and the time would come for Hermione to explain to him why he lived without a dad.

Well, that day was not today, and Hermione was sure glad it wasn't.

--

"Thank you so much, Ms. Granger, for coming in to meet me," Mrs. Lawrence said as she motioned for Hermione to take a seat in front of her desk.

"Oh, it's really no problem. I hope Jace hasn't been too much trouble; I know he can be a handful sometimes," Hermione said with a smile towards the kindergarten teacher.

"He really is such a sweet boy, and he gets along so well with all the other students. He's the life of the classroom, always cracking jokes and making people laugh. However, he plays pranks on his classmates an awful lot, and even though not one student as ever said anything bad about it, usually the victim just laughs along with everyone else, I'm not sure if you may want to address the issue somewhat. I certainly don't want Jace to lose his sense of humor, but as he grows up, he may need to dial it back a little bit," Mrs. Lawrence finished with a smile, she wasn't upset, just concerned. "I've also noticed that he doesn't talk about his dad too much, and I was wondering if their relationship could be the cause of all of Jace's mischief-making."

Hermione smiled. The actions of her small son reminded her so much of Fred that a knot began to form in her chest. She could feel tears rising to the surface as she realized that, somehow, Fred had managed to pass along his love of laughter and mischief-making to his offspring. But as Mrs. Lawrence inquired about Fred, Hermione was suddenly struck with an awful revelation. She had been so keen on protecting Jace from the hurt and sadness that comes along with losing a parent, one that he hadn't even met, that she had kept him away from the only people that could truly show Jace what a wonderful man his father was.

"Jace's dad died before he was born, and I'll be sure to talk to Jace about his pranks at school, Mrs. Lawrence," Hermione said. She wanted to leave the classroom quickly. She had resigned herself to make up for five years of sheltering, and was going to let Jace learn what a true hero his father was.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, I am so sorry. Thank you for coming in." They shook hands and Hermione quickly departed.

She stayed up the rest of the night packing all of her and Jace's belongings, and getting everything prepared for her quick departure to England the next morning. She wasn't waiting another moment longer than she had to.

"Mommy, where are we," Jace asked with a hint of nervousness as he held on tightly to his mother's hand.

"We are, my darling, in Diagon Alley. See all these stores, they sell all sorts of magical things, like your truck," Hermione said as she steered him towards a very bright window display.

"And like you and Daddy too, right?"

"Yup. Okay, here we are. Jacey, there's someone inside that I want you to meet," Hermione said as she knelt down to be eye level with the five year old boy, "But, I need you to stay right by the door when we walk in, okay, I need to talk to him first."

Jace nodded. He may have Fred's sense of humor, but he had his mother's intelligence. Hermione usually found out the hard way just how smart he really was, when his pranks became so elaborate for such a young boy.

So inside they walked, back into a life Hermione had sheltered him from for five years.

Back into a life she had run from for five years.

"George," she asked as she walked towards the counter.

"Hermione," George said in shock, "What are you doing here? Is it a holiday already?"

She smiled at his joke. "No, George, it's not a holiday. I've come to tell you that I'm moving back to England, and that there's someone I'd like you to meet."

And with a quick gesture, Jace was walking towards his mom and George. He was looking at George intently, realizing that they looked an awful lot alike. Hermione had brought Jace to England only three times, and she made sure that he never met George. If she admitted the truth, it was because she couldn't bear to see someone that reminded her so much of Fred, since of course, looking at George was like looking at an exact replica of Fred.

"George, I'd like you to meet your nephew, Jace Fredrick Weasley."

George was astonished. He had known that Hermione had had Fred's baby, but he had never met him. It always made George a little angry when he thought about how Hermione had made sure that the only Weasley to not meet little Jace was none other than the boy's father's own twin.

But this little boy was his twin, just in miniature, and with a rounder face, much resembling Hermione's. Other than the shape of his face, it was like staring at a five year old Fred. Even the mischievous glint was present in the sparkling sapphire eyes of his.

"It is very nice to meet you, Jace," George said with a smile.

"Jace, this is your uncle George. He was your daddy's twin brother. You know what a twin is right?"

Jace nodded his head yes. "So, that means that you must look like my daddy, right?"

George laughed. A boy with Fred's mischief and Hermione's brains was going to cause a lot of trouble in his day. "Yes, I look exactly like your dad."

Jace smiled, and ran towards George, wrapping his little arms around George's legs. "I love you, Uncle George."

George patted the little boy's head as he smiled at Hermione.

"Oh, I made you Jace's godfather, George," Hermione said quietly, "I understand if you don't want to be, since I've kept him from you for so long, but Fred always said that you'd be the godfather to all his boys, and Charlie would be godfather to all his girls."

"Why do I get only the boys," George asked, mocking hurt.

"I believe he said something about you having a tendency to not treat girls right in your younger days. He said his girls would be precious, and that they needed a godfather who would protect them."

"I highly doubt anything spawned from Fred would be too precious," George said with a smile, knowing that the same would be true of his own kids, if of course, he ever had any.

Jace quickly let go of his uncle's legs, and ran in the direction of all the joke products, saying, "Mommy, I'll be back in a little while, I need to see all these cool toys."

"Don't touch anything," Hermione said, watching as her five year old, who acted like an adult to often, went running down the first aisle.

"Why didn't you let me ever see him, Hermione."

Hermione looked at her hands, tears forming in her chocolate brown eyes.

"You reminded me too much of Fred," she said with a sob, "I never truly had the chance to grieve his death. I was pregnant, and I had to make sure my baby was healthy, and to be there for him. And so I put it off, thinking I'd cry and feel the pain when my baby was born. But, then, I had an infant, and my time was so limited, and I couldn't very well cry for days in front of my son. I had to be strong for Jace. And then the crying infant turned into a toddler who was too much like Fred for his own good. And soon it just seemed like I never would deal with it. I was in a parent-teacher conference when I realized that I wasn't helping Jace by keeping him away, but hurting him more because I was depriving him of the one man who could be a father-figure to him. The one man who could tell Jace exactly what a great man, and hero, his father was. I was depriving him of you, George. You should have been there from the beginning, helping me raise Jace, doing exactly what Fred would do if he was here."

George was touched. Here she was, Hermione Granger, the strongest, bravest, smartest witch of her age, admitting that she had made a mistake.

"I miss him so much, George. Did you know I've never been on a date since that night? And that I can't take my engagement ring off because somehow it shrunk since the night Fred died, like its saying that I'd given my heart away to the only man who was ever worthy of it."

Tears were running down her race in streams now. She wasn't holding it back. She was here, in the presence of the only man who could ever help her get over the death of her soul mate, the only person who missed Fred as much as she did.

"Hermione, I miss him too. Everyday, but you have to deal with it. You have to let the pain consume you for days until it just fizzles out and only becomes a shadow, a memory in the back of your mind. It never goes away, but it becomes less prevelant and soon your life will move on, and there will be days that you can smile again, and be happy. Fred would never want you to live life in a sort of depression. He loved life, and he would want you to be happy and smiling all the time, no matter what was happening."

She hugged him tightly. She held on to the only thing in this world that would help her get over the pain.

"George, will you help me raise Jace."

"Mione, I'd be honored."

He kissed the top of her head as he held onto her tightly. This broken witch was Fred's girl, and it would be an insult to his memory if George didn't treat her right, and make sure she was back to the bubbling, smart, and witty witch Fred loved.

"Fred died laughing," Hermione said softly so that George could only barely make out what she was saying, "That's the way he would have wanted to go."

"Yes, he'd have wanted to be remembered as a hero who left with a laugh," George said.

And it was true. Fredrick Weasley would always be remembered as the hero who died laughing.

Fred Weasley would always be remembered.