A/N: I am the worst author every. I'm a horrible person. I can't believe I let you all hanging for so long. I'm so very sorry. It was inexcusable. I hope you can accept my apology and read this chapter anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my own silly plot.

Fred, like many others in the Wizarding World, had suffered through many horrifying nightmares in the months since the Battle of Hogwarts. He had become used to waking up screaming, drenched in sweat, his wand already drawn at an invisible foe. Nothing compared to this.

He'd lost track of the world around him; the only thing present in his mind was the pain of the curse. He'd even begun to doubt his own existence. He'd been in agony for so long that it seemed the Cruciatus would've found everything of him to burn, and yet the searing pain never ceased. Where the cool, oaken floor of his bedroom should have met his fingertips, a million needles rose up to pierce his flesh.

The ghastly night terrors from which Fred suffered could be escaped simply by leaving the realm of dreams and returning to the waking world. The anguish he was experiencing now was no nightmare; Fred was certain that this level of torture was beyond the realm of even his wild imagination.

Since there was no escape to be found in a return to consciousness, Fred found his body trying to turn the tables; he recognized that it was trying to shut down. It was trying to find respite in unconsciousness, perhaps, even death, and Fred could not find it in himself to care. In fact, he welcomed the notion, wanting anything to end the suffering.

That, more than anything, scared him. Never before had he wished for death. Admittedly, he had, at times, a poor self-preservation instinct, but he had never had a base desire to die.

He now understood how Frank and Alice Longbottom had been driven to insanity. He couldn't fathom how Hermione had escaped with her mental stability intact.

Hermione.

A fresh ache bubbled up in his chest, and he screamed, no longer fearing his desire to die.

The curse had ended long ago, yet the pain was as virulent as ever. Fred couldn't stop the tremors in his limbs, nor did he want to do so. Perhaps if they shook long enough, they'd shake the deep-seated pain.

Of course, it would take much more than a seizure to release him from the pain of his broken heart.

She doesn't love me. All of it was a lie. I'll never be able to face her again.

"Fred."

The redhead in question felt a new wave of pain rush over him as his eyes locked onto the source of speech.

Wonderful. Good job, Freddie. You just had to think of her again. Now you're hallucinating and in more pain.

He focused his energy into reaching an arm out to the image of Hermione, as if he could swat it away.

Of course, he couldn't just swipe Hermione away, because she wasn't a delusion. She really was there, and she was currently bundling him into her arms.

The tremors shaking his body worsened at the contact; it was as if her very touch could induce searing flames of pain.

Then, all of a sudden, the agony stopped. The blaze that had been eating Fred from the inside out was gone. All that remained was a deep-rooted, dull ache in his muscles. Finally in full control of his body, Fred looked up into Hermione's eyes. There he saw a look mixed with both fear and relief. He'd only seen it once before on that beautiful face, and ironically enough, she'd just saved his life that time as well. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face at the stroke of humor, but being jovial seemed to take everything out of him; Fred slipped into blissful oblivion.

Perhaps oblivion wasn't the right term. Of course, his eyes were shut, and he could no longer find the drive to move his body, but he was aware of his surroundings.

He felt the girls, both stronger than their svelte frames would suggest, scoop him off of the hard floor. He felt the cushiony, comforting embrace of his mattress as they laid him on it.

He felt a gentle pair of hands lay ice on his still throbbing forehead, and tend to his bruised and bloodied knuckles.

He felt soft lips press against his brow, as if they could kiss away the pain.

He felt the last of his pain in his heart melt away as the woman he loved told him she only wanted to protect him.

He felt frustration at the fact that he couldn't pull her tight to his chest, returning her kiss.

He felt his heart soar when she promised him what could only be the words he'd been dying to hear.

It had been three days since Fred had gone comatose. Hermione, like a stone sentinel, had rarely left his side. She hadn't eaten a full meal nor had a sound night's rest since she had taken up her post. Her brown skin was paling, and her eyes looked as though she'd been through the wringer with the Punching Telescope. Still, her mind was fully devoted to Fred. She monitored every twitch of his finger, and counted every even breath. She made careful note of the progression of his healing knuckles.

So faithful was she that she didn't notice Ginny's presence until the younger witch had called her name five times.

"Hermione!"

The bushy haired girl jumped. "Ginny! You startled me! I didn't hear you come in."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I only called you five times."

Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about Fred."

The redhead surveyed her older brother where he lay on the bed. His bruises had faded, his cuts were scabbing over, and his skin was no longer translucent in appearance. "He looks like he's doing just fine to me," she said, gently smoothing her hand over her friend's hair. "Why don't you let me take over for a while?"

Hermione stiffened at this suggestion. "Ginny, please don't take offense, but I've studied far more than you about medicine both magical and Muggle. If something were to happen to Fred…"

Ginny groaned, fed up with Hermione. They'd had this particular argument countless times in the past three days. "You'd be in no condition to properly help him! And you say you know so much about medicine!"

The older witch gaped, taken aback by the redhead's sudden rage. "Excuse me?"

Ginny dragged Hermione to her feet, and steered her toward the twins' mirror. "Look at yourself! The most I've seen you eat at once in the past three days is some biscuits and a cuppa, and that's only because Harry refused to let you see Fred until you did. You haven't slept for more than an hour at a time, and you've only done that a few times. You're killing yourself, 'Mione, and I won't stand for it any longer!"

The brunette's eyes stung with tears as her friend's words bit into her. She glanced over her shoulder at her invalided love.

Ginny's tone turned tender, as she had not intended to upset Hermione. "Please, Hermione. If not for me, do this for Fred. I know that if he were awake, he'd want the same."

Hermione bowed her head, knowing Ginny was right, whether or not she wanted to believe it. "Alright, fine." She paced over to Fred's bedside, and laid a soft kiss on his forehead. Snapping up to face the other girl, she said, "You must tell me the second anything changes."

Ginny sighed affectionately. "Of course, Hermione. Now go!" She gently pushed the tired witch through the door.

Once Hermione had left the room, Ginny exhaled heavily, and dropped into the chair at her brother's bedside. Leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, she muttered, "For Cor's sake Fred, wake up already." She bit her lip, fighting the sudden presence of tears in her eyes. "We miss you."

If Fred had it in his power to clench his fist at the moment he would. He knew that Hermione hadn't really left his side since he'd blacked out. Of course, he hadn't realized how much time had passed, nor that she'd been neglecting her own well-being in the interest of his.

This was not going to continue. Not if he could help it.

He knew the bushy-haired witch too well. She'd put on the charade of taking care of herself for a day or so. She'd force herself to sleep for six hours, and eat three meals. Then Hermione would be right back to incapacitating herself in the interest of his health.

Well, not anymore.

Fred summoned all the strength he could muster, and a certain amount of the magic that flowed through his body, to force himself to wake up.

He struggled for a while, trying to rouse himself all at once.

Finding his breathing shuddery at the effort, he thought to himself, "Merlin, this is going to be harder than I thought."

A worried hand brushed against his forehead. "Gin, he's breathing funny. Why is he breathing funny? Should we do something? Should we get 'Mione?"

"George, calm down. I'm sure he's fine," Fred heard his sister promise. "Leave Hermione alone. She needs the rest." Ginny paused. "Though I'm not sure passing out cold on Mum's sofa is the best way to do that," she added dryly.

George's voice went up an octave. "She passed out?" Had Fred been capable of speech at that moment, he was sure his voice would have modulated up twice as high as his twin's, though their words would have been nearly identical.

Ginny snorted. "She sat down, conjured a cuppa, and promptly passed out. She fell forward and barely missed cracking her head on the coffee table. I had to apparate over to her to keep her from falling on the floor."

That did it for Fred. Looking a mess, and forgetting to eat or sleep one thing; nearly splitting her skull open was another.

"Dammit, Hermione!"

"Freddie," George said breathlessly. "You're…"

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm awake, you daft wanker. I thought that was fairly obvious."

George could hardly contain himself. He launched himself at Fred, his arms taking a vice like grip around his brother's neck. "Thank Merlin."

Ginny was not far behind her older brother, ducking under George's arms to cinch her own arms around Fred's waist. "Morgana be praised."

Though happy to see the cheer and relief on his siblings' faces, Fred still begged them to release him. "Gin…George…I…can't…breathe," he bit out haltingly. This declaration was punctuated by a raspy cough.

The younger two immediately dropped their tight embraces.

Fred, as soon as he could properly breathe again, shook his head affectionately at his siblings.

"Missed me that much, did you," he teased. "Couldn't bear to spend another day without the wit and charm of Fred Weasley?"

Ginny scowled. "Suddenly I'm wishing you were still asleep."

George rolled his eyes and elbowed Ginny. "Least now 'Mione'll stop acting like he's got the blooming plague."

Fred's eyes widened; internally, he chastised himself for forgetting about her for even a second. "Where is she? Where's Hermione?"

It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes and elbow George. "Yeah, and now we have to deal with this lovesick blighter."

Fred grabbed his sister's hand. "Please, Ginny. I've got to talk to her."

The witch reached out with her free hand to pet her brother's hair. "Patience, man. She's just gone to sleep."

Fred groaned. "I know that. At least let me see her."

George and Ginny looked at each other incredulously. "What do you mean, 'you know'?"

"Yeah mate. I don't remember mentioning anything about Hermione sleeping since you woke up."

Fred rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You didn't, but I heard you talking before."

Ginny's brow furrowed. "You heard us talking before you woke up?"

"That's right. I've heard everything since it went dark. Just couldn't move or open my eyes."

As the gravity of the statement set in, Ginny realized something. "That means you heard everything all of us said."

"Yep. Felt everything too."

Ginny and George looked at each other in amazement, both of their minds wandering to the separate occasions on which they'd seen Hermione kiss their sleeping brother, and whisper sweet nothings to him when she thought no one could hear. If Fred had been able to hear everything, the he had no doubt felt those kisses and heard all the things she said.

Fred immediately understood why his siblings were so excited. "So, can I see her now, or what?"

"What part of 'she's just gone to sleep' did you not understand," Ginny snapped.

George touched his brother's shoulder gently. "She's gotten maybe six full hours in the past three days. Let her get at least eight hours. I doubt she's going anywhere."

"I just want to see her," Fred ground out, sitting up far too quickly for either of his siblings' liking.

George firmed his hand on his brother's shoulder, in order to steady him. "Mate, are you sure you should be getting out of bed so soon? I mean you did just wake up."

Fred lurched to his feet, pushing past his doppelgänger. "I'm fine. I have to go see 'Mione. I have to tell her how I feel. I love her. I want to make this work." Swaying, he all but fell over, save Ginny throwing her arms around him at the last second. "Whoa, Freddie. You can hardly stand as it is. If you're aiming to tell her how you feel, at least wait until you can stay standing for your whole piece."

Fred sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

George punched Fred's jaw in jest. "Chin up. You've waiting this long to tell her. A few more hours won't kill you."

After eight hours had passed, which felt like an eternity in Fred's mind, Ginny and George finally allowed him to go and see Hermione. He sailed down the stairs as fast as his tired legs would allow him without tripping, skidding to a halt next to the sofa.

Gingerly, he sank down on a sliver of cushion unoccupied by the bushy-haired witch he loved.

He reached out to gently shake Hermione's shoulder. "'Mione. Wake up," he whispered. "C'mon, love. Rise and shine."

The only response he received from the sleeping witch was a quiet snore, and some unintelligible babble. He snickered at her; even asleep, Hermione was undeniably adorable. Bending down, Fred placed a soft kiss to her lips. "You sleep, 'Mione. Come find me when you wake up. There's something I need to tell you, and I want to be certain you can hear me when I say it."

Sixteen hours later, Fred was pacing his bedroom like a caged animal. George groaned, rolling his eyes. "Mate, I'm trying to work here. If you're not going to help me, at least stop pacing. You're driving me batty."

"She's been asleep for twenty-four hours, George. Doesn't that worry you?"

"Considering how little she slept while caring for your sorry arse, not really."

Fred raked his hands through his hair, growling in aggravation. "I just can't wait any longer." He swooped to the door, throwing it open, only to run smack into Hermione.

With her nose now an inch from his chest, it was no surprise that a flush of red painted both of their cheeks.

"Hermione!"

"Fred!"

"I've got something…no you go first," they spoke simultaneously.

Both of them looked down at their feet.

George snorted, shaking his head at the flustered pair. "I'll take that as my cue to leave." Gathering the parchments he'd been working on, he brushed past the pair. Stopping for a moment, he turned back and grabbed a sock from his drawer, securing it around the exterior doorknob. "Just in case you forget," he teased, winking at the two.

At George's antics, Hermione felt her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, though she hadn't thought it possible.

Fred bit his lip. He wished George hadn't done that; he didn't want Hermione to get the wrong impression.

Look up at the witch from under his lashes, Fred muttered, "Sorry about that, love. I don't know what possessed him to do that."

She smiled graciously. "No, it's fine."

Fred cleared his throat nervously. "So, um, it sounded like you wanted to tell me something."

Hermione nodded, unable to form words, her throat felt so tight. Despite having bounded excitedly up the stairs, she found herself lacking any of her Gryffindor bravery.

Fred reached out to take her hand, thought whether it was to ground her or himself he wasn't sure; even though he was pretty sure she reciprocated his feelings, he couldn't help but worry that she would turn him down again.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Hermione."

She nodded again, more confidently this time, taking comfort in his gentle touch. "Fred, about the other day. When we…you know…" She felt the crimson blush staining her cheeks spread down to her chest.

Fred was sporting his own deepening blush at the memory of that kiss, but knew she needed his support right now. "It's all good, 'Mione. It's me."

Hermione looked into his eyes, seeing genuine care and understanding there, and smiled. This was Fred. The Fred she loved with all her heart. "I just wanted to talk about what happened."

Fred gestured for her to continue. "The floor is yours milady."

Hermione grinned at his theatrics. "Thank you." She took a few deep breaths to center herself, but it turned out to be a vain attempt. She tipped her face towards the ceiling as if to stymie the flow of tears. "I don't know where to begin. There's so much I have to say, and so much I have to ask. I don't want to leave anything out."

Fred knew exactly how she felt. For the past day, he'd been pacing his bedroom floor, puzzling over what he would say, and the questions he needed answers to. Using his grip on her hand, he pulled her over to the workbench George had vacated moments before. "How about this. We'll play that Muggle game. 20 Questions, is it? That way we can each bring up the topics we think are important."

Hermione nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. Should I start?"

"If you like."

She bit her lip, wringing her hands. "Where to start," she mused aloud. Despite its macabre nature, she decided to begin with the question that had been weighing on her heart most heavily. "Fred, I don't know exactly what you did in your room, and I'm not entirely sure I want or need to know the answer, but I need to know one thing."

He inclined his head, signaling her to go ahead and ask the question.

Swallowing hard, she bit out, "Were you trying to kill yourself?" Her voice cracked at the end, sobs taking over her.

Fred wrapped her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. "Merlin, no," he answered, his own voice mangled by tears. "I would never do that to the people I love."

Hermione felt her heart swell slightly at the word love. Nodding, she pulled away so she could face him again, though he kept a grasp on her hands. "Your turn."

Fred knew exactly what he wanted to ask her. "Why did you run?"

This was one question that Hermione knew she had a definite answer to. "I remembered the last time we…the last time that we kissed," she murmured, averting her eyes and blushing at the memory of their most recent encounter. "I couldn't keep from thinking about all the horrors of the war, and all the people close to me that died." She looked up into his eyes. "You almost died. I couldn't stand the thought that I might put you in more danger." Her chest heaved as a new wave of sobs washed over her. "It seems in running away, I did more harm than good."

Fred disentangled their fingers so he could wipe away her tears. "Hermione. You did nothing wrong. Though I don't think you give yourself enough credit. I know plenty of blokes who'd face Old Moldy Shorts himself for an hour of your company." His voice quieted. "I know I would."

Her head snapped up. "You would?"

Fred smiled earnestly. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." He basked in the warmth of her smile before continuing. "Is there anything else you want to ask?"

Hermione laughed. "Third time's the charm. Dance with me?"

Fred smiled genuinely for the first time since waking up. Offering up his arm, he replied, "I thought you'd never ask."

Pulling her to her feet, Fred flicked his wrist at the CD player she'd loaned him. Despite the fact that he'd performed wandless magic, it didn't change the fact that magic and Muggle technology still didn't mix. Instead of the sweet and slow ballad he'd intended to play, an upbeat pop rock song blared from the speakers.

Their eyes met for a beat, and they both burst out laughing. Fred stretched his hand out to her. She accepted and found herself spinning wilding, in some bastard child of swing dance.

As the song ended, Fred pulled away from her, tucking his hands behind his back.

"Not quite the message you intended to convey, Fred," Hermione teased.

He smirked. "I wouldn't say it's entirely untrue. You've nearly driven me to insanity."

She giggled. "Have I now?"

He rolled his eyes. "I pierced my tongue for you, didn't I?"

"That was a pretty wild move, even for you," she joked.

"Well, I'm wild for you."

The silence that momentarily fell over the room was physically tangible.

Hermione wasn't sure she had heard him right. She only dared to hope she had, but he'd said it so brusquely it seemed impossible that he'd just said it. "Excuse me?"

Fred, for his part, was aware that he was past the point of no return. It was now or never; he had to tell her the truth. Swallowing hard, he took her hands in his. "Hermione, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I have been for a while now, actually." He stepped closer to her, reaching up to tangle his fingers in her hair. Taking a deep breath, he said finally, "Well, better late than never. I love you, Hermione. I'm absolutely mad for you."

Hermione felt her breath catch and without meaning to, dropped the smile from her face as she tried to regain her bearings.

Fred loved her.

Fred was in love with her.

Frederick Gideon Weasley was in love with Hermione Jean Granger.

Noticing the slight tense set to her spine, Fred gripped her shoulders. "What is it? Say something to me, please!"

After an anxious moment, an almost maniacal grin split her face.

Fred's brow furrowed. "Hermione?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and a breathy laugh escaped. Stretching her arm up, she gently caressed his face. "Fred?"

"Yes, 'Mione?"

"I love you, too."

He couldn't keep the blinding smile off of his face, and immediately gathered her into his arms, holding her as if his life depended on it.

When Fred finally loosened his grip on her, Hermione asked faintly, "Can I ask one more question." So overcome with emotion was she that she began to sway.

Fred pitched forward, catching her around the waist. "Anything, love."

Meeting his worried gaze, she took a deep breath, and said her piece. "Kiss me again?"

She barely had the words out of her mouth before he'd drawn her into a searing kiss.

A/N: Did you enjoy the chapter? Do you still hate me for leaving you hanging for so long? Have questions? Either way, I'd appreciate if you left a review behind telling me what you thought.