Hermione sat alone in the common room, the dim light from the fire barely illuminating her pale face. She stared into the light source, contemplating as the flames flickered before her eyes. It was a few days before the beginning of the Christmas holidays,
and she was dreading going home. Hermione hated how muggle her village was, how she had so little access to the wizarding world. She also thought about how somber the mood would be in her house. She was due a little brother in February, Daniel Jude
Granger, but Daniel had been miscarried four days earlier. He was the third Granger baby that had been lost since Hermione's birth. This thought caused the fire to swim before Hermione's eyes, accompanied by a sharp pain beneath her ribs, and a tight
feeling in her chest. Tears fell from the girl's eyes as she took laboured breaths, trying to subside the pain. She choked on her tears, attempting to return her breathing to normal, whilst her chest felt like it was going to explode with pressure.

"Hermione?" She heard "Hermione is that you?" She couldn't bear to have anybody see her in her current state, but she couldn't speak for loss of breath. A tall boy appeared in front of her, wearing loose pyjama trousers and no shirt. The red hair betrayed
him as a Weasley, but height suggested that it was not Ron. With no defining features visible by the firelight, Hermione could not determine whether it was Fred or George standing before her. "Mione?" The twin asked, then suddenly softer "Mione, are
you ok?" It took all of Hermione's energy to nod her head, then shake it, then shrug her shoulders and collapse in defeat. The twin, which Hermione could now decipher as Fred, kneeled down next to the armchair in which she was sat. "Ok, Hermione,
first of all you need to breathe. You're having a panic attack, so listen to me, just listen to my voice." She had never heard such a firm, serious, caring tone come from the prankster "Just breathe. Breathe in for three... now hold for three... out
for four, and again. In for three... hold for three... out for four. Keep going, keep breathing, you have to keep breathing, Mione, and when you're ready, you can tell me what for you so worked up." The pair sat for a moment, Fred holding onto Hermione's
hand, gently drawing circles with his thumb. When Hermione finally regain her composure, the first words out of her mouth were "Sorry, Fred." The boy looked at her as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her pyjama top. "Why are you sorry?" He asked

"Because you saw me like that. How did you know it was a panic attack anyway? I thought wizards didn't believe in all that muggle mumbo jumbo?"

"Lee gets them. His mum's a muggle and took him to a muggle doctor for it, so now he takes these weird little hard things that he calls talbets."

"Tablets." Hermione corrected, a small, teary laugh escaping her

"So tell me, what is bothering the great Hermione Granger?" Hermione looked into Fred's deep blue eyes, which showed nothing but concern, before flicking her eyes away and addressing the fire. "I don't want to go home for Christmas." She murmured

"And why is that?" Fred asked in a kindly voice

"Mum had a miscarriage." She admitted, biting back a fresh wave of tears.

"What's a miscarriage?"

"It's where, well, it's when..." Hermione was struggling to find words "it's when a woman is pregnant, and the baby dies before it's born." She finally settled upon the explanation. "My little brother died before I could meet him."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry..."

"And it's too late to stay here and I really don't want to go home be-"

"So don't." Fred interrupted

"What?"

"Don't go home."

"So where will I go. I've already said I can't stay here." Fred sighed

"Y'know, for the brightest witch of your age you can be incredibly thick at times."

"What do you...?"

"Come to The Burrow, or Grimmauld Place, wherever we're going. Dad might be back in time, and Mum would love to have you-"

"Oh Fred, I'm so sorry. Here I am crying about my problems and your dad's in hospital for Merlin knows how long."

"Hey hey hey, Mione... it's ok. Dad's going to be fine, your family just lost someone. It's going to take a while to heal. You've just lost your little brother. Did he have a name?" Hermione nodded

"Daniel. His name was going to be Daniel."

"That's a great name." Fred smiled at Hermione "Don't tell him I said this but I couldn't bear if I lost Ron. I can't imagine how you feel at the moment, so if you don't want to go home for Christmas, come spend it with me."

"Ok." Hermione agreed

"Really? You'll come to us for Christmas?"

"Yeah," Hermione breathed "I just need to tell my parents."

"That can wait until morning, love. You need some sleep." Fred stroked Hermione's bushy brown hair as she leaned into his hand. "Come on, you need to stop thinking for once." He said gently, scooping Hermione into his arms. She buried her head in his
neck, breathing in his scent. Musky, with a hint of something earthy and sweet... cinnamon? With just a touchof vanilla. Fred carried her over to one of the sofas at the back on the room, sitting down before gently easing Hermione into his lap.
She settled into his chest, her hand resting on his bare abs, as he ran his hand across her hair. "Shhhh, come on now Mione, time to get some sleep."

Fred woke up early, Hermione still lying on him. He shook her gently. "Mione, Mione, time to wake up, love." Hermione opened her eyes slowly, stretching out like the ginger cat she owned. "What time is it?" She yawned

"Six, but we should probably go before someone else comes down."

"Yeah ok. See you at breakfast?" Hermione asked

"Breakfast." Fred smiled, before both climbed the stairs to their respective dormitories.