"I have been bent and broken, but I hope into a better shape" - Charles Dickens


Fred found himself within a haunting white structure; dark crows staring down at him, with wise beady eyes.

"Where am I," he asked, his mind muddled and confused. He remembered dying, the wall crushing him, the agonising pain of his bones and organs breaking under tuns of old stone. He remembered the peaceful tranquillity as he followed a blinding white light; the pain of death easing away until he felt whole and well. He'd stepped through the pearly white gates of Heaven and had been greeted by his uncles Fabian and Gideon. They'd told him he was dead, that they'd take care of him, and help him as he found his place in the afterlife.

He'd been introduced to Harry's parents at a party of sorts; all of the dead Order members were present, those who had died recently like Moody, Remus, and Tonks as well as those who had died over the course of the two wars Voldemort had brought.

"It all fucking ends tonight," Sirius Black spoke, raising a glass of whiskey into the air as they watched the final battle play out through a portal in the clouds; everyone let out sounds of excitement, screaming their agreement and clapping their hands as they watched the show below.

The portal reminded Fred of the two-way mirrors he'd seen when watching a police movie with Hermione a few summers ago. He'd sat with them, watching everything play out below with bated breath, cheering when Harry eventually killed the evil bastard that had caused so much misery and when his mother had obliterated Bellatrix, the bitch that had tortured his girl. Then he'd watched sadly as his family grieved and Hermione stumbled away, unable to cope with the loss of him, her fiancé.

"She'll be okay, Hermione's strong," Remus told him consolingly, patting him on the back.

"What of your son, he became an orphan tonight," he replied sadly.

"He'll have people who love him, people to remind him who his parents were, to keep mine and Dora's memories alive," Remus smiled sadly, his eyes dull.

"It's not enough, why did so many people have to die, because of that megalomaniac," Fred asked as magic whirled around him pulling him away from heaven to a place outside of time and space. He found himself masquerading as a jester, stealing a girl who looked very much like Hermione from a prince who wanted to marry her, then the next thing he knew he was a farmhand fighting beasts alongside a battle ready woman who also looked like Hermione as he fought to find a cure for a woman who was his mother, but not his real mother. It was all very confusing; he wasn't sure what was happening to be honest as he stared up at all of the crows above.

"Freddie," a voice cried, arms grabbing hold of him; the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle ensnaring his senses.

"Hermione," he breathed, wrapping his arms around the shaking girl. She was how he remembered from the portal watch in heaven; the same ash covered jeans, pink hoodie, and denim jacket, bruised and battered with drying blood clinging to her skin, some from her own wounds and an awful lot more from the wounds of others.

"Where are we," he asked her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

"With the god's," she whispered against his neck.

"I don't understand," he replied quietly.

Your girlfriend came before us asking for a boon, the boon she requested was your life. You have faced two trials; the first of which Hermione passed when she chose yourself over the prince. In the second trial it was you Fredrick we were testing. You also passed your trial. When faced with imminent death you still placed yourself between Hermione and the creatures that sort to kill her. Then when faced with saving your mother or a girl you barely knew, you chose to help the stranger, knowing your mother would die as a consequence of your actions. Well done, Fred," the omnipresent voice echoed around them the crows squawking above excitedly.

"We won, Fred can live again," Hermione asked quietly, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped him, afraid of letting go in case he disappeared.

"Yes, he can live again," the voice spoke sounding bored.

"HANG ON," Fred shouted, his mind whirling as he stared up at the dark feathered creatures above him.

You have a question the voice asked amused.

"Freddie don't, lets go, you can live," Hermione pleaded.

"You are supposedly gods, yet you allowed a massacre to take place in a school. Thousands of people have lost their lives to Voldemort and his followers over the course of two wars. You could have stepped in and stopped it. You could have saved any of them, all of them but instead you chose to play a game with Hermione and I, placing us in fairy tales to determine how much we love each other, rewarding us with my life. It's pathetic, you could do so much better, right so many wrongs. My life is worth nothing compared to all of the others," he spoke his voice enraged.

"Fred," Hermione cried at his side.

"You know I'm right, it isn't fair, why should I get to live while all those other people died, our friends, Teddy's parents," he whispered, kissing away her tears.

"I know, as much as I love you, if it was just your life or that of all those that had died, I'd have to do the right thing and choose the majority," she sobbed, clinging to him as her knees buckled.

"Congratulations you have passed the final trial," a voice spoke as a beautiful woman appeared before them, she had an ethereal glow about her as she smiled at them, her silver eyes shining.

"What trial," Hermione whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Been willing to sacrifice the one you love, to save the life of another, in this case many others," she told them stepping towards them.

"You're going to take him aren't you, and return the others," Hermione shook in his arms.

"No child. Destiny had decided that Harry Potter must be the one to kill Voldemort and we could not intervene with that decision. Many lives were lost in both wars, it was genocide of the British Magical Population. We cannot bring back all who were killed since Voldemort rose to power, but we agree with you, too many died, many of which were innocent children, you have sacrificed so much, your childhoods and as such we will reward you. Every person who died fighting against Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts will live once more," the woman spoke, her voice kind.

"Thank you," Fred whispered to the woman who nodded at him.

"Enjoy your life together," the woman replied, her voice serine as she waved her hand towards them, magic surrounding them like a blanket. Fred held Hermione close, his body shaking just as much as hers as the magic washed over them sending them back to the mortal realm.