Hermione,

What can I say that hasn't already been said? I wish things could be different, and not just concerning you and me. I wish everything could be different. But they're not... and I'm beginning to wonder if things will ever change. What if Harry fails? What if the world is destined to be held under Voldemort's rule? I don't know that I can continue on (even with you by my side) watching my friends and family die. It's just too hard. I know you understand this perfectly well.

We've both lost so much, love. I've lost all my brothers and you lost one of your best friends. We cling so desperately to that which we cannot hold onto forever. Maybe in another life we could've been happy. Maybe in another life we could've had peace. But this life is all we have, and it's threatened on a daily basis of being cut short.

It doesn't seem that clichés exist anymore. "Live every day to the fullest" "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" "Fight to the bitter end" ...It's "now or never," Hermione. I know long ago I would've laughed as I wrote that, but not today. Perhaps never again...

Fred stopped short. He let himself get carried away by the past:

I didn't know who I was without my brother, my best friend. We'd never spent more than a few hours apart at a time. To say we were close would've been an understatement. Once he was gone I knew a part of me was gone too. I didn't do the noble thing though, I stayed holed up in my office, left the store closed. I buried myself in my loss and could think of nothing else. I had lost so much.

About six days after we'd all received the news, she showed up in the store. To this day I still don't know how she managed to get in. But then again, she always had been the most clever witch I'd ever known. Where that used to annoy the hell out of me, it now gave me comfort. Throughout all the madness, something had managed to stay the same. She had managed to stay the same.

At first I thought she'd come to pluck me out from my office; to tell me there was a war going on and that I simply couldn't stay hidden away the rest of my days. I had expected that much from her. But I didn't get it.

When she found me I was slouched against the side of my desk, sitting on the floor with head on my knees, sobbing... even though I no longer had any tears left. I heard her shoes clicking on the floor. Somehow I knew it was her. I didn't bother to look her way when she entered the room.

She crossed the room to where I was and gracefully dropped herself to the floor, sitting herself beside me. She wrapped her arms around me, in an awkward sideways hug and rested her head on the back my shoulder. It wasn't long before I felt her tears soaking through my shirt. It was in that very moment that I realized I wasn't alone in my grief. It had been selfish of me to think I was in the first place.

"H-Her-Hermione?" I asked, my voice cracking from the lack of use, as I shifted to hold her in my arms, my eyes still squeezed shut.

"Yeah?" she asked quietly, now resting her head on my chest, wrapping her arms more tightly around my abdomen.

"I-I'm..." I stuttered, not being able to come up with the right words to say.

She pulled me closer, if possible, "Yeah, Fred... Me too."

I let out a breath that I hadn't been aware I was holding. It felt better to have someone to be with than being alone.

I opened my eyes to look down at her, only to find her staring right up into mine. Her eyes were as bloodshot as mine must've been, though that wasn't the only thing different about her appearance.

"Your hair..." was all I could manage to say.

She let out an uneven breath, "I needed to feel like I had control over something," she stated decidedly, "so I cut it all off."

Her once long, unruly... yet still altogether beautiful hair was now cut to just above her chin, and tight ringlets framed her face.

I let out the first laugh, albeit a small one, I'd had in weeks, "You look like Shirley Temple."

She gave a half-laugh before questioning, "How d'you know about Shirley Temple? ...Oh, your dad, I suppose?"

I nodded as I reached up to tuck a stray ringlet behind her left ear, letting my fingers trail down her neck and resting my hand at her collarbone.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, caught up in each other's arms, clinging onto the only bits of life we had managed to find in each other.

It was strange, really. We'd never been close before. Hell, I barely even knew her, despite the number of summers she had spent at the Burrow. I'd always been too caught up in scheming with George and she'd always seemed... well, she'd seemed like an old stick-in-the-mud. Later she would tell me she'd always thought me as an "irresponsible, sorry excuse for a wizard." Though, when she confessed this, all I could do was chuckle. After all, it had been mostly true. But despite any of our prior thoughts, or lack-there-of... it seemed that she was all I had left in this world; this surprising girl was there for me when I needed someone most. Somehow she'd known what no one else had: even though I had secluded myself, I hadn't really wanted to be left alone. She knew this because she felt the very same way.

We had been camping out in the apartment above the shop for several days, me in my room and she in the living room. She didn't even question me about George's room. She knew it was too soon for me to be able to deal with that. But at least it was bearable to be in the apartment once again, made only bearable by her presence.

She entered my room without asking, though it didn't seem odd because we really weren't much for talking anyway. Maybe it was because we didn't really know each other that well, maybe it was because there wasn't really anything to say, or maybe it was because our relationship wasn't really the type that always required verbal communication. She shut the door quietly behind herself and walked across the room barefoot to the edge of my bed. I felt her sit down across from my lying form, though I feigned sleep. I should've known this wouldn't fool her.

"Fred," she began in a soft voice, "I know you're awake."

I rolled over to face her as she brought her legs up onto the bed to sit cross-legged. I opened my eyes and sleepily greeted her, "G'morning. What's up?"

She reached over and tousled my hair as she replied, "G'morning yourself, sleepy head. I know you've only woken up, but we need to talk."

I groaned as I turned to bury my face in my pillow. Those had to be a guy's least favorite four words.

Surprisingly, this actually deterred her for a minute and she fell silent. After awhile curiosity got the better of me and I lifted my head from the pillow and propped myself up on my elbows. She was still sitting on the other side of my bed, biting her lip, in a very un-Hermione fashion.

That's when I began to worry, "Hey, what is it?" I asked quickly.

Her eyes darted from mine as she replied, "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, really." She paused as she swallowed; only, I knew this was just her biding her time. "I... I mean..." she sighed and then tried again, "Fred, nobody knew this but... Ron and I were engaged. To be married." she finished lamely.

My heart sank for her. She and Ron had been in love. And now he was gone.

She continued, "It happened only days before..." she trailed off. I knew what she meant: before Ron was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. "And, well, after it happened Harry was so devastated. You know, losing his first best friend... I just couldn't tell him about Ron and me. It would've killed him. I couldn't tell anyone. ...But it's..." she faltered, tears spilling down her cheeks, "it's just so hard without him. I-I never considered how hard it would be." She met my gaze, her lips trembling, "I'm all alone... and, I'm just so... so afraid if I let myself get attached to anyone else I'll only lose them too." She closed her eyes, which allowed several more unshed tears fall. It was quite apparent she hadn't intended on telling me everything she had.

I sat up and moved over to her side, enveloping her in my arms. She brought her arms around me and buried her head in my chest; though, it seemed she was done crying for the moment being. I laid my head on top of hers and closed my eyes while I slowly rocked her back and forth. It was odd how she seemed so small in my arms, so much like a very small child. The moment didn't last long however. Hermione pulled back slightly, to speak, though her arms never left me.

She cleared her throat slightly and began, "Telling you all that... wasn't really my intention for waking you this morning. Though, I'm glad I told someone. I don't know how long I would've been able to keep it all to myself."

I brought my fingers to her cheek, slowly wiping away a leftover tear and replied softly, "You can always tell me anything."

She smiled slightly, "Thanks Fred, that really means a lot to me." She took a deep breath and seemingly found her resolve and began, "What happened to your family was horrible. And I can't say that I'm not scared about meeting the same end, but we can't stay here forever. We have to go back. We have to help Harry in any way we can."

I knew what she said was true. We were just wasting time. There would be plenty of time to mourn once Voldemort had met his demise. I replied, "You're right. We have to go back."

A/N: Okay, so I had fully sworn off fanfic. It only lasted about twelve days though.

Anyway, this is my newest idea. The story isn't really going to focus around Hermione and Fred though, this chapter is kind of a memory of a memory. The main part of the story is going to revolve around Hermione, who is a professor at the newly reopened Hogwarts.A few, perhaps unexpected, other of her former classmates are teaching as well. We'll follow her through memories of her days there, the war, those she loved, and those she lost.

I really need to get away from relying on flashbacks and memories to tell my stories, but... hopefully it'll work out in the end. I've definitely got an idea where this is all supposed to go, though there will be some more background-y stuff before I can actually get started.