As always - thank you to HPGW4eva and Binka Fudge. You two are fantastic!
I'd also like to dedicate this fanfic to my husband. Every time I mention Fred Weasley he just has to reply with "You do know Fred dies, right?" So this is for him. Fred Weasley never died and he's perfect for Hermione and no one will ever convince me otherwise. =P
"I'm really proud of you, Fred," Hermione said, sitting and crossing her legs underneath her. She was back in the void, which she assumed meant that she was sleeping. "You're getting so strong."
"I can feel it," he answered.
"Before you know it, you won't need me at all," she said with a smile.
"No," said Fred seriously. "No matter how well I am, I'll need you."
Hermione blushed and shook her head. "You'll see. I'm all that you know right now, but you'll be your own self again very soon I think."
"I don't mean here and I don't mean my strength," he said seriously. "I guess it's too hard to explain. But, that's okay." He pulled her toward him and she laid her head on his shoulder.
"This is so odd..." said Hermione. "This place... this us."
"Is it?" asked Fred.
"Yes, but it's strangely comforting," she continued.
"When you're here it is... but it's frightening every time you leave."
"But, even when I'm not here like this, you can hear me, right?"
"Yeah... but it's just not enough..."
"Well, I'll stay with you as much as I can as long as you keep fighting."
"Deal."
"I'm going to test you again, so you better save your strength."
"Yes, ma'am!" he saluted playfully.
"You really are getting better," she beamed.
Hermione's eyes slowly blinked open. As consciousness quietly crept into her she became more aware of her surroundings. Her body was hunched over again, her head resting on soft white sheets, but there was a heaviness on her cheek that she could not explain. She looked up and saw that Fred's hand was on her cheek. But, if his hand was there, where was hers? Hermione concentrated on discovering her own body. Her lap, one hand was in her lap. Her other arm felt heavy and filled with painful tingling, it hung limply from her shoulder, fingers dangling to the ground. But, that couldn't be. Her hand was always on...
Fred! Hermione jumped into a sitting position, placing her fingers on his wrist, feeling for his pulse. How could she have been so careless? Why had no one been watching her? She was so important to his health! There it was - a pulse. Fred...?
Hermione.
You did it. You're doing it! I told you that you didn't need me!
Our deal...
She stood up and kissed his hand before laying it back on the bed. She looked over at Mrs. Weasley, asleep in the other guest chair. She hated to wake her but, with such news, she knew she had to do so.
"Molly?" Hermione said quietly. She gently placed a hand on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. "Molly?"
Her eyes fluttered open, her eyebrows knit with concern. "Hermione..? Hermione?!" She sat up straight and peered around Hermione at Fred's still body. "Fred?" The woman looked utterly panicked.
"He's fine. Better than. His heart's beating on its own," Hermione smiled.
Molly put her hand to her mouth and her body began shaking in a mixture of laughs and sobs. She pushed herself out of the chair and stood by her son's side. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heart, her tears moistening Fred's hospital gown. She stood again and stared at Hermione, her eyes shining in admiration. "Hermione, thank you..."
Hermione gave her a weak smile. It felt so funny to be standing. It had been days since she stood and she never knew that one could feel so out of practice, but she did. The world felt as though it were swaying, her head felt so light that it hardly felt as if she had one. Something wasn't right. "Molly...?" Darkness closed around her, Molly's face the last thing she saw.
"Hermione, you're back," Fred smiled widely from where he sat in the middle of the void.
"Yeah," said Hermione. "You did it. Your heart's beating on its own."
"I'm getting stronger," said Fred. "I can hear the voices better now, too. I'm getting better, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are," said Hermione, sitting down next to him.
"We're not going to be here much longer then, are we?" Fred asked.
"I suppose not," she replied.
"Good. I feel like I've been stuck in a snowstorm forever now," Fred smiled, looking around at his white surroundings. "How long have I been here?"
"To be honest, I'm really not sure. I've been here most of the time, so it's really hard to judge. Time here isn't like time there," Hermione explained. Hermione smiled at him, happy to see him in much higher spirits. He looked much more like himself now.
"You still don't know why you're here?" Fred asked.
"No."
"Are you even real? I still have a hard time understanding how you could be here with me if you're not in the same state as me," Fred replied with concern.
"I'm definitely real, even if this place isn't," Hermione declared. "I can hear you when I'm awake."
"How?"
"Again, I don't know. It's all very strange. No one knows what's happening. They're all very scared for you…"
"Do they still think I'm dead?" Fred asked uncomfortably.
"No, of course not. But, they still don't understand like I do. I know you're getting better, but the healers all think I've lost it… or like I'm playing a game, having them on or something. They'll have to understand now though. You're heart's beating without my help."
"How dare they question an innocent and brilliant witch like you," Fred answered. Although he sounded like he meant it, he still said it playfully, making Hermione laugh.
"I'm glad you think I am, but most people out there still think of me as a silly little girl," Hermione said with amusement.
"You? A silly little girl?" Fred chortled. "Whoever said that was ridiculous. There's never been a brighter witch."
Hermione blushed bashfully.
"Listen," said Fred. Both of them stopped to listen to the voices overhead.
"It's George again," said Hermione. "But, I can't understand him."
"Me neither, but it's getting louder," he replied. "And that's Harry, isn't it?"
"Fred! What's happening?!" Hermione panicked.
"What?" Fred worried. He followed her gaze and looked down at himself. He was transparent. "Am I a ghost?"
"No!" Hermione said excitedly, getting to her feet. Fred scrambled to his feet also and looked through his clear body and back up at Hermione.
"What's happening?"
"Oh Fred!" Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. Fred was more surprised that she didn't fall right through him than at the kiss he received.
"You're disappearing, too!" Fred shouted in fear. "Hermione, what's happening?"
Hermione's mouth started moving as she tried to speak, but Fred couldn't hear her anymore.
"Hermione! What's happening?! Why can't I hear you? Hermione, don't leave!" Fred demanded. But, before he even finished, Hermione was gone.
"How long has she been out now?" Harry asked solemnly.
"Over fifteen hours now," George replied in almost a whisper. "They're really getting worried… everyone. She's just getting weaker and weaker."
"She still can't let go of him?" Harry asked in quiet frustration.
"They tried," George answered. "As soon as she blacked out and they knew Fred's heart was beating okay, they tried to take her to another room. But, as soon as they had her in the hall, her heart rate decreased… and so did Fred's. The longer they were apart, the weaker they got. That's why she's still in here."
"The healers should have listened to her more. They kept acting like she didn't know what she was talking about, but it was obvious she knew more then them," Harry grumbled. "Do they have any idea about what's happening yet?"
George breathed out slowly. He sounded so hurt and defeated. "No… just guesses. But it's become increasingly obvious that whatever she's doing, it's draining her. The stronger he gets, the weaker she gets… They're getting really worried again."
"Worried how?" Harry asked, extremely distressed by George's tone.
"They're worried that at least one of them might not make it through this," George said, his voice shaking as he spoke in whisper.
"Which one?" Harry asked, his voice wavering also.
"They don't know… but right now, Hermione looks like the weaker of the two," George replied in a barely audible voice.
"Th-they think she'll die?"
"They don't know about either of them…" George said.
"This can't happen," Harry insisted. Hermione could tell by his voice that he was crying. "This just can't be happening. This seemed like a miracle, but now… They have to do something to save her. They can't just let her do this. She didn't even know what she was doing."
"No one's trying to let her be a sacrifice, Harry. You have to know that. They want to save them both. But, they're both so weak right now that they can't figure out what to do for either."
"So, what are they going to do?" Harry asked.
"For now they said that they just have to wait and watch," said George. "They're hoping that at least one of them starts improving."
"At least one? What does that mean?" Harry asked angrily.
"They've been talking… If one of them becomes stronger and the other very weak… they'll separate them and see who they can save," George said. His voice was high. He said it very matter-of-factly, trying to suppress his emotions and just state it as it was. He didn't know how he could possibly survive himself if they were forced to choose between the two of them. He loved his twin dearly, but he couldn't let Hermione give up her life to save his brother either.
"It won't come to that…" Hermione said weakly.
"Hermione?!" cried Harry, rushing from the end of her bed up to her side. "Hermione, talk to me. She did talk, didn't she, George?"
"Yeah," George said, his face intense with hope and concern as he stared at the silent unmoving girl.
"Hermione, talk to us," Harry repeated. "Please, Hermione. Can you hear us?"
"Mm-hmm," Hermione murmured. She still felt too weak to really talk or even open her eyes.
"She responded," George said excitedly, both him and Harry lighting up.
"Hermione, do you feel okay?" Harry asked.
"Mn," Hermione responded as an affirmative.
"Can you talk? You talked. What did you say?" Harry rattled off quickly.
"She answered me," said George enthusiastically. "I said 'They'll see who they can save' and she said 'it won't come to that'"
"What did she mean?" Harry asked." Hermione, what did you mean?"
"Stronger... both... " Hermione said weakly, her lips barely opening.
"You're both getting stronger?" George asked. "How do you know? Are you sure?"
"Mn..." Hermione confirmed.
"Hermione, can you open your eyes?" Harry pleaded. "Please, open your eyes."
Hermione struggled extremely hard to peel open the lids of her eyes, but both felt as if they were weighted with lead. With a lot of effort she managed to open one just a crack and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as the blurry figure of Harry and an even blurrier form of George behind him came into view.
"Oh, Hermione..." Harry said, fit to begin crying again, this time with joy. But even in his joy there was pain to see his friend so weak when she had been so healthy when last he saw her. "Are you really getting better?"
"Both of us," she mumbled. "We're okay... Can't leave yet." Hermione slowly let her head fall to the side to look at the sleeping red-head lying in the bed next to her. Their beds were pressed together, no space between them, and their hands were clasped together. She felt his finger twitch in her hand and her smile grew. "I'm tired..." she said softly. She turned her head back toward Harry and George, but she was no longer able to keep her eyes open.
"No, Hermione," Harry insisted. "You have to stay awake. You have to keep your eyes open. Don't go back to sleep."
"Too tired," Hermione answered, her voice floating away as she began slipping out of consciousness. "Too weak..."
"No. No, Hermione," Harry demanded. "You said you're getting stronger, stay awake." Harry shook her body gently when she didn't respond.
"Too tired," Hermione repeated. "Fred... He's waking..."
"What?" George rushed to ask before she fell asleep again.
"He's waking... let me sleep."
Harry and George both looked over at Fred. When Harry looked back down at Hermione she was already asleep again.
"Do you really think he's waking? How would she know?" asked George.
"How does she know any of this?" Harry bewilderedly answered.
"Yeah," George agreed. He wanted to believe her, but he was afraid to in case she was wrong. Tentatively, George walked around the end of their beds and over to Fred's side. "Fred... can you hear me?"
Fred groaned softly and Harry and George's eyes snapped to meet each other's in question, hoping it wasn't their imagination. Harry rushed around the beds and stood next to George.
"Fred, it's George. Fred, can you hear me?" George asked. Fred groaned a little louder and George was becoming excited and impatient. "Fred," he said louder. "Talk to me. Please... Can you hear me?"
Fred mumbled his reply almost incoherently. If George and Harry hadn't been listening so intently, they might have missed it. "Of course I can hear you, you're shouting at me."
Tears of joy immediately welled in George's eyes as he laughed at his brother. Not only was he awake, he was well enough to be his usual cheeky self. It was more than he'd hoped for. Unable to contain his joy he dove forward and placed a kiss on his brother's forehead.
"Please tell me that was a girl and not you, Georgie," Fred chuckled. Fred slowly blinked his eyes open. He felt rather funny, filled with a sort of light, empty feeling, but still heavy with weakness. He stared at his brother and blinked until he came into focus. "Are you crying, George?"
George didn't know how to respond. His lower lip quivered and his tears fell.
"I'll go get your mum and the healers," Harry said quickly, rushing from the room.
"Where...Where am I?" Fred asked trying to look around the room. His voice was raspy and his throat was sore. He grimaced in pain as he tried to clear his throat, but then snorted another soft laugh at how emotional his twin looked.
"St. Mungo's," George answered, finally wiping away his tears.
"What happened?" Fred asked.
"Y-you were hurt... what do you remember last?" George asked.
Fred blinked in thought as he tried to gather his memories, but they were too scattered to make any sense. He remembered being on Potterwatch Radio. He remembered his fifth birthday. He remembered playing quidditch. But, it was all out of order. "I... I don't know."
"Do you remember the battle?" George asked quietly.
Fred had to search his mind again. A battle... "At Hogwarts."
"Yes," said George.
"We were fighting in the corridors," Fred continued. But then he stopped. He couldn't remember any more.
"The wall blew apart... and you were injured," George answered.
"Badly?" Fred asked. George nodded and Fred began to feel extremely nervous. "How bad?" Fred began taking inventory of his body very quickly.
"You... You died..." George said, staring at Fred, ready to cry again at the thought.
"What?!" Fred cried. "But, I'm not dead. Right? Of course I'm not." Fred looked down at his chest and body, feeling his chest with his hand, but he stopped when he finally noticed that his other hand was being held. Fred looked over and saw Hermione's limp pale form on a bed next to his. He glanced at their hands and began to pull his away.
"Stop! Don't let go of her!" George cried, leaning over Fred's body to stay Fred's movement.
"What? What is she doing here? Why are we...?" Fred didn't know how to continue. This was very odd feeling, especially with George's exclamation. "Is she okay?"
"You really did die, Fred... No one understands how it happened, but Hermione saved you," George said quietly. It was the truth, but it sounded so odd falling from his lips, and it was obvious that this news was overwhelming to his brother. "Your heartbeat, it stopped. You weren't breathing. The healer declared you dead... But, Hermione wouldn't accept it. She knelt by you and somehow, no one knows how, she started your heart again and you breathed... but not without her help."
"What do you mean 'not without her help'?" Fred asked, glancing between his brother and the girl next to him. This wasn't making sense. Things like that didn't happen. The very idea that he might have died seemed preposterous, but George was very serious. Fred felt slightly irritated with George. If he was telling the truth, then he was telling it all wrong. Fred knew that George would never lie to him about something like this, but the news was overwhelming and quite distressing. He was resentful of the way George was delivering the news.
"She couldn't let go of you or you'd stop breathing and your heart would stop. You breathed in when she did. Your heart was in sync with hers. Slowly you started breathing on your own. And today, your heart has started to go its own," George said with a smile. "But, it's still best not to let go yet."
"Today? How long have I been out?" Fred asked, staring at the girl that was said to be his savior.
"Nearly four days now," George replied.
"What?!" Fred shouted, turning to George. "Four days? She's been here keeping me alive for four days?"
"Yeah... she's really something..." George said quietly. Fred looked at George with concern. Though he had said it with appreciation and admiration, Fred heard the underlying sadness.
Fred looked back at Hermione. Her hair looked tangled, her face and lips so pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked very weak. "She didn't wake when I screamed just now..." Fred noted aloud. "She hasn't moved a muscle... George, what's wrong with her? Is she okay?"
George looked down, unable to meet his brother's eyes. "We don't know."
"Fred!! My Fred!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as she ran into the room, her arms outstretched to embrace her son. "Oh, my Fred, you're awake." Mrs. Weasley sat her grown son up in bed and squeezed him around his back, pressing his face into her shoulder. Fred gripped Hermione's hand a little tighter so that he didn't accidentally let go.
"Mum, it's okay. I'm okay," said Fred. "Please let me go?"
But at Fred's words and the strength in his voice now, Mrs. Weasley only squeezed him tighter, letting go a few seconds later.
"Oh, Fred, are you okay?" Mrs. Weasley asked, cupping her son's face in both of her hands. "George? How is he?"
"I'm fine, Mum," Fred repeated.
"He seems okay," George answered. "He remembers the battle, but nothing after that. He's talking alright, even getting cheeky."
"Oh, that's my Fred," Mrs. Weasley said proudly.
"Please excuse me, Mrs. Weasley," A man said, stepping up beside Mrs. Weasley. Fred hadn't noticed the healers enter, but he assumed that they had come in with his mother.
"Oh, of course," Mrs. Weasley replied, stepping away from Fred. The healer walked up to Fred and held onto his wrist. Fred looked up at the man then over at Hermione where a woman healer was holding her wrist. He looked from face to face with concern.
"His heart rate is really fast," the male healer said to the woman.
"Yeah," said Fred in irritation. "It's racing. I'm nervous. You just bust in here and don't saying anything and-"
"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," the healer interrupted. "We're just checking your stats."
"My name is Fred," Fred said, looking at the healer quite annoyed. But the healer wasn't paying any attention to him as he was looking expectantly at the woman.
"It's rather slow," the woman informed. "She is resting, but it's still on the slow side."
"Is that bad? Is she okay?" Fred demanded quickly.
"What is it?" that man asked.
"44," the woman replied.
"That's still okay. A little slower than we'd like for her, but still okay," the male healer explained. "Now, Mr. Weasley, will you please take a deep breath and hold it?"
"Fred," Fred corrected once again, his irritation clear. Fred stared at Hermione and took a deep breath, holding it in. He watched as Hermione's chest continued to rise and fall.
"Good. Let it out," the healer urged.
Fred slowly let out his breath and looked up at the healer.
"The other boy said she woke up for a few minutes?" the woman asked George.
"Yes. Two minutes maybe. She was really weak. She kept saying that she was tired," George replied.
"She spoke?" the woman asked in surprise.
"Yes. She said that she and Fred were going to be okay. She told us that Fred was waking up and asked us to let her sleep," George continued. "And that was it. She opened her eyes a crack, but just for a second. She looked really weak, but she told us that they're both getting stronger."
The healers exchanged looks over Fred and Hermione. Fred was feeling even more annoyed as they looked skeptical, like they were questioning George's response.
"Mr. Weasley," At Fred's cross look the healer amended, "Fred, we're going to ask you to let go of her hand now."
"What?!" Fred asked in shock. "I thought I wasn't supposed to."
"Well, it's good that you were cautious and waited for us, but we're going to test you both now," the man replied.
"You mean you think she might stop breathing or her heart will stop... or mine?" Fred asked with concern.
"Well, that's our concern, her more than you, but it's just a quick test. If she's not strong enough on her own, you just grab her hand again," the healer explained.
"I don't like the sound of that. Is it safe?" Fred asked, looking over to his mum and George to see their reaction. George shrugged his shoulders, not able to offer much. His mother appeared worried and confused, her relief for him battling with her worry for Hermione.
"She's allowed us to test like that before," the woman answered, "and you've been okay through it."
"Yeah, but she only let you test when she felt that it was safe. She always knew better than you," George protested. "What do you think, Fred?"
"Me?" Fred asked in surprise.
"Yeah. Do you feel that it's safe to let go, or is something telling you not to?" George asked.
"I-I don't know. I don't know what you mean," Fred answered, feeling more and more uncertain each second.
"When Hermione was awake, she was very adamant about when and when not to test. She knew when you were ready to move to the next step. And each time that they tried to force her, she fought. She knew when you were ready to breathe, she knew when she could move her hand from your heart to your hand, and she knew the very second your heart began to beat on its own," George explained.
Fred glared at the healers in response. George made it seem like they were the enemy, fighting against his savior and protector. He was concerned that this order they were giving him was a risky experiment and it made him angry and apprehensive.
"I don't know. But, if it might hurt her if I let go, then I'm not letting go," Fred argued, giving Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze.
The healers both looked a little offended, the man more than the woman. "Mr. Weasley, I understand how confusing all of this must be to you, but it's important that we conduct this test, for the both of you, for her."
"And, what if it hurts her?" Fred demanded. "You want to take that risk?"
"Risk? What about the risk of holding on?" the healer said, getting rather testy. "The longer you are in contact with her the stronger you become, but the weaker she becomes. You could be sucking the life out of her right now! We need to see if she is strong enough to survive on her own before she has the chance of getting any weaker."
Fred loosened the grip on her hand a little, but did not let go. He stared at his hand as though it were accused of committing murder. Was he killing her? Should he try to let go? What did they know? George said Hermione knew better than them. But that didn't mean that he, Fred, did. It was a risk either way; and he had no idea what to do.
"When she was awake, she said she was getting stronger?" Fred asked George.
"Yeah. She said both of you were," George answered, looking extremely concerned himself.
"And she knew that we were still holding hands?" Fred asked.
"Yes."
"And she didn't try to let go?" Fred continued.
"No."
What do I do? Fred thought, looking at George in question. Oh, Hermione, how did you know? What do I do?
Please, Fred... Hermione's voice echoed in Fred's mind and his head whipped around to look at her.
Hermione? Fred asked. He stared at her and concentrated, but did not receive reply. He stared at her, wondering if he had really heard that or if it was just his imagination answering him in his great desperation. Whatever it was, he felt he could absolutely not let go.
"No," Fred said finally. "I can't let go. She's going to be okay. I trust her. If she didn't break the connection, then I won't either."
"Mr. Wea-," the woman started.
"Fred!" Fred corrected angrily.
"Fred, this is serious," the woman continued placatingly, as equally frustrated as the male healer now. "You have to understand that we can't just allow you to make the choices regarding this young lady's life."
"And, I can't allow you to either," Fred insisted. "You don't know what's happening anymore than I do. But Hermione knows and I trust her judgment. She's made the choice for herself and I'm not going to change that unless she tells me to, personally."
"This is ridiculous," the man grumbled, looking away from Fred in disgust.
"Yeah, it is. But, she and I are the patients and you can't do anything without our consent. We've both said that we won't let go and that's how it is," Fred said firmly. Without another word, both healers left the room. They could hear the man begin to talk to the woman in disgust as they both walked down the hall.
"You think she'll be okay then?" George asked.
Fred looked at Hermione in question. "I don't know what it is... but something tells me 'Yeah, she's going to be alright'."
"Then she will be," Mrs. Weasley said, placing her hand on Fred's shoulder and kissing his forehead.
Fred gave Hermione's hand another delicate squeeze and felt an unexplainable lightness, a mysterious reassurance from deep inside. She was going to be okay; he knew it.
There you go. Chapter two. Is it what you expected? What you hoped?
Please let me know what you think. Please Review. ^^