Hermione broke away from the kiss, but when she looked at Fred she couldn't decipher the emotions flashing through his eyes. Ohgodohgod. she leapt from the bed and began to stutter out an apology.

"I-I'm sorry, I, um, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

But her rambling were cut off by Fred. More specifically, Fred's lips.

And then he was kissing her, with a passion that sent magic crackling through them, hissing out in a firework of multicolored sparks that shot off into the air, wizzes and bangs rang out in the small bedroom as Hermione lost herself in a sea of emotion for the redheaded prankster, who was currently cutting off any coherent thought from entering her brain. She looped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss as he wound his hands through her wonderfully unruly hair.

"''Mione why do you have- BLIMEY! Mione you have a Weasley stuck to your face if you didn't notice." George announced as he wandered into her room.

Hermione leapt back as if stung, and blushed crimson as she thought of all the teasing she'd get because of this.

"Uh... hi George. Did you need something?" She asked.

"I was going to ask why there were fireworks going off in your room, but now I know. Carry on." He said, sending a wink their way.

"A simple no would have sufficed." She muttered, finding her worn out sneakers incredibly interesting.

George smiled fondly at the witch, she went through as much hell as he did, and he'd always be grateful, she'd saved his brother's life after all.

Hermione moved to touch Fred's hand, needing reassurance he was alive, and when her fingers touched his, he leapt back with a hiss of pain.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Hermione questioned, trying to peer at the appendage.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Fred lied, curling his fingers into his chest.

"Fred, you're not fine." George countered.

"'My hands just got cut up..."

"Care to explain how?" George asked

Fred mumbled a quiet response.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, worry lacing her words,

Fred sighed, "When I clawed my way out of my grave." He replied louder, before extending his hand, which was reddened and bleeding.

George blinked at him trying to process what his twin had just said, and Hermione let out a small whimper.

"It's no big deal..." he assured, but for Hermione it all clicked.

"Oh my God Fred. I'm so sorry." She whispered,

"'S not your fault." He said, smiling at the witch he'd grown so bloody fond of.

"But-"

"It's not your fault Mia." Fred repeated, as if trying to drill the belief into her head.

"I'm gonna go get some bandages..." she muttered, leaving the room with sorrowful honey colored eyes.

"Fred-"

"George."

"Fred I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Not saving you when that wall fell, because I froze, and you died."

"It's not your fault George."

"But-"

"Georgie. It isn't your fault."

A small cough from the door announced Hermione's arrival, and she scuttled over to Fred with her wand. She gently took his hand and muttered a scorgify.

"Thanks Mione." Fred murmured as she inspected her flawless work.

"No problem, being a healer pays off." She said, looking up to find his blue eyes trained on her.

As she began to pull her hand away, Fred snatched it back, gave it a small squeeze, and released it.

Hermione turned to the two inhabiting her room and said "Well I don't know about you, but I need to sleep so..."

George nodded and told her to holler if she needed anything before slipping from the room, whereas Fred lingered before grasping Hermione's hand in his again. He pulled the small witch to him and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

"See you tomorrow..." he murmured, before winking and leaving the room.

Hermione, now alone, let out a sigh and collapsed on her bed, falling into a sleep filled with dreams of Fred Weasley.

And little did she know, one room over, he was dreaming about her too.