Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
December 25th, 1998
Christmas at St. Mungo's is never what anyone really wants, but usually people tend to make the most of it. Healers try and spread joy throughout, at least on the more permanent wards. Intake is usually chaotic, as you have everyone coming in from family arguments and questionable cooking methods. As the Welcome Witch was trying to sort everyone out as quickly as possible, a large group came through the main entrance. Recognizing them from their frequent visits, she waved the group on towards the elevators.
Anyone who knows the Weasley family knows that they're not a quiet bunch, but the only sound heard on the ride to the fourth floor was Mrs. Weasley's sobbing, and various members of the family sniffling. Everyone was there, from Bill and Fleur down to Ginny. Harry and Hermione were also there, Harry trying to console Ginny, and Hermione clinging to a broken George. She was beyond words now, the tears making their way down her face silently, showing no signs of slowing. Everyone as there, all except the one they all wanted to see. The one they were here for.
Arriving at the fourth floor, the group turned right, and were led by a healer into the Janus Thickey Ward. They all too soon arrived at their destination, room 412. Opening the door, the family entered, the healer trailing behind them.
Situating themselves around the bed, George and Hermione stood at the head on either side, each grasping one of the hands of the person they loved most in the world, Fred. He had been in St Mungo's for seven months, but you wouldn't know it.
You see, during the final battle and the fight over the secret passages, one of the walls was blasted apart encasing Fred underneath all the rubble. After immobilizing Dolohov, the only remaining Death Eater present, a frantic George started flinging rubble everywhere, only worried about getting his twin back out. All the boys jumped in to help, but by the time they got him out, Fred wasn't breathing. Hermione started flinging spells at him, desperately trying anything and everything to save him. She loved him. They had gotten together the night of the battle over Little Whinging, but so much had happened since then, she never got the chance to tell him that she loved him.
Fred didn't die that day, but seven months later, she still hadn't had the chance to tell him, and now it looked like she never would. After the battle, it was discovered that they had indeed saved Fred's life, but the damage to his head was horrific. He had never woken up, staying in a comatose state. Now on magical life support, he was unable to complete even the most basic functions on his own. He couldn't even breathe on his own, magic did that for him.
That's why they were here today, on Christmas of all days. The healers had informed them that there was nothing more they could do, nothing had worked. They suggested that instead of prolonging his suffering, they turn off the machines, and let him go peacefully. This caused the biggest uproar the Weasleys had ever had. The argument had raged for well over an hour, almost tearing the family apart. It was finally decided that it was only right that the decision be made by George, who eventually decided that while he loved Fred, and would do anything for him up to laying down his own life, he didn't want him to suffer. He loved him too much to leave him like this forever. They had to let him go.
At George's strangled consent, the healer made his way through the various red heads all trying to touch some part of their brother, son, and friend. Arthur was at the foot of the bed holding a sobbing Molly, while Hermione and George joined the hands that weren't holding Fred's, so that they made a loop of sorts. As the healer turned off the machines and released the magic, he left the family to grieve in peace. Fred's breathing visibly slowed until it stopped. George broke down completely, falling into Hermione's comforting hold, though he still didn't let go of his brother's hand. The family got up to leave, Arthur practically carrying Molly, all except for George and Hermione, who didn't move.
George was the first to notice that something was amiss. He was now laying across Fred's chest, clinging to him with everything he had when he felt air blowing across his face. He was pretty sure his mind was imagining things as Hermione was on his other side, but then he felt it again, along with a movement from underneath him. Jerking up, he stared wildly at Fred, waiting for something to happen. Just as he was about to turn away, he saw it. Fred's chest was moving, he was breathing! On his own!
Just as the rest of the family reached the door, George screamed at them to get a healer. There wasn't a second's hesitation as a healer ran into the room, assessing Fred, his wand waving wildly. Molly was demanding to know what was going on, the family crowding around the table, just as Fred's eyes opened. Hermione thought she must be hallucinating, but everyone else saw it too. The only thing that the Healer could come up with was that without the machines to rely on, Fred's body must have tried to take up the motions itself, jumpstarting his recovery.
There wasn't a dry eye in the room as George haltingly explained what had happened, and how long it had been. Everyone knew for sure that he was back to himself, when he said "Seven months!? I must have been dead tired!" with a wink.
