A/N: Okay, I know I said it'd be a week, but I'm going away for the weekend, so I'll get this out early. Apologies for the angst. I promise it'll get more upbeat eventually; I'm going to brainstorm on how to bring in some comic relief. :) -- Also, apologies for the double-upload.

He owled me every day for the first three weeks he was gone. Even though, as I later would find out, Harry specifically told him "No owls." But that was just Fred being himself, really. Since when did he ever listen precisely to what someone in authority told him to do? I guess Harry wasn't any exception.

I didn't keep the letters though. Somehow throwing them away made it easier to believe he would be coming back to me. It made me believe the letters wouldn't be all I would have left of him.

I should've kept the letters.

Weeks after I'd received the news, someone, though I'll never be quite sure whom, left one of the discarded letters for me under my door. I can only assume they'd nicked it out of the garbage bin, thinking it might be of some solace to me when the dastardly news finally arrived. And I was grateful to them for this. One glance at it and I recognized it as the final one I had received from him.

Since that day I've read it so many times, the words have been successfully engrained into my mind. Though I still kept the letter, folds worn smooth from my frequent reading:

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 it's 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. What am I saying? 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...

What I'm trying to say is... well, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through everything you went through with Ron all over again. It seems like some stories never change.

I love you more than you'll probably ever know, Hermione. You were there for me when I needed someone most. Even better yet, you instinctively knew I needed someone before even I was aware of it. Selfishly, I'm so glad you were that someone for me. But I can't bear to think of you unhappy. And I know that as long as this war rages on you will never truly be able to be happy. That is why I went off with Harry. I am going to help him end this. We're going to end it once and for all. And I'm doing it all for you, love.

You will be loved again. You will be happy again.

I can only hope I will be able to return to your side to witness it all. If not, you must continue on. For both of us... or if not me, for Ron... for George...

I should've married you when I had the chance, whatever small one there might've been along the line. But that's just me being selfish again.

Have I told you lately that I miss you? I do. Every minute of every hour. I miss your infectious laugh. I miss the way you crinkle your nose when I do something immature. I miss waking up to see your curly head resting on my chest. I miss the way you always manage to smell like vanilla and peaches. I miss the way you taste. I miss the way you examine your nails when you're pretending not to listen to me. I miss absolutely everything about you.

This isn't goodbye, love. I could never say goodbye to you. For us, there was no beginning and I'm quite certain there will be no end. We are. We exist. We love. We take nothing for granted.

Until the next time I hold you in my arms,

All my love,

Fred

And that was it. A faded piece of parchment was all I had left of him.

I won't go into details of what happened to take him from me. Honestly, I don't even know that much about what transpired. It wasn't exactly as if anyone who'd been there had lived to tell the tale. Yes, that's correct, I'm talking about the final battle between Harry and Voldemort. I can't say that too many people were surprised no one came out alive. Somewhere, deep down, I knew if Harry defeated Voldemort it would be the last thing he ever did. I guess I just thought it would've taken more time for the defeat to occur. I thought I'd have more time. More time with Harry. More time with Fred. Now time is all I have, but I've no one to share it with. I am left with the very thing I've feared since Ron was taken from me. I am left alone with myself. And the worst part is, I don't even know who I am anymore.

And I thought I had felt broken before. The feelings I'd had months ago are entirely foreign to me now. Then, I had merely been distraught. Now I was... I'm not sure what I was. Perhaps no one has been able to come up with an accurate definition for this feeling.

With all this time I did the only thing I knew to do. The only thing I could ever remember doing in the past when things became to much to bear. It was the precise thing I used to do whenever I'd have an argument with Ron or Harry: I retreated to the library at Grimmauld Place, to my books. Somewhere along the line, after spending weeks in the library, burying myself in my volumes upon volumes of books, a few questions struck me: What was happening with Hogwarts? Was it still closed?

Suddenly I knew exactly what I should be doing.

A week later I caught Minerva McGonagal just as she was leaving Grimmauld Place after having a short visit with Lupin.

"Professor--"

"Ms. Granger, you very well know you may call me Minerva."

But for once in my life, I wasn't listening, "Professor, have you considered reopening Hogwarts? We've wasted so much time already. Two years have passed and children, our future, are continuing on, uneducated."

It wasn't as if Minerva McGonagall hadn't considered this. If it were up to her, Hogwarts would've continued on throughout the war with Voldemort.

She replied sympathetically, "Hermione, dear... it simply isn't up to me. Even after everything the world has been through, the final say still must come from the Ministry of Magic."

I huffed indignantly, "I cannot believe Umbridge reinstated that law; and while Hogwarts wasn't even open for teaching, no less!"

McGonagal replied, "Well, I'm sure she wanted to make certain we weren't able to open our doors again until the world was ready." She sighed, "You know people like her, seeing dark magic anywhere and everywhere they look, even if it's not there at all."

Just then a thought struck McGonagal, "You weren't... you aren't considering teaching, are you?"

I turned my head sharply, meeting McGonagall's gaze at once, and replied in a barely audible whisper, "There isn't anything left for me to do."

Normally, one might mistake such a statement as something along the lines of cowardice or self-bemoaning. But I was sure McGonagal knew that wasn't what I meant.

I cleared my throat, continuing in at a normal pitch, "I mean, I did everything I could for H-Harry and..." I swallowed hard, "and, everyone else. But all that's over now. I — we all — need to move on."

McGonagal gave me a small smile, "Dear, I understand. I really do. I'll tell you what, tomorrow you and I will go to the ministry of magic and have a little chat."

I spent that night, as I had so many before it, in the library. Somehow when I was reading a book, my life seemed to melt away, if only the tiniest bit. I was well aware I was only avoiding reality, but I was convinced I'd had a quite enough of my fair share of reality. It could wait for me while I read my books.

I left the library a little after seven in the morning and retreated upstairs to get ready for what would be my first venture out of the house since I'd received the news.

Once in my bedroom, I went to my armoire, searching for something suitable to wear. I decided my wardrobe didn't consist of nearly enough black. I rummaged through the bottom drawer until I found precisely what I was looking for: one of my old black robes from school. I pulled my wand from my pocket and whispered a quick spell that removed the Gryffindor crest from the left lapel. Yes, this would do quite nicely.

There was only one other thing to contend with: the state of my face. I slowly pulled the black hangings from the mirror in my room. To say the least, I was quite surprised at the reflection I saw gazing back at me. I hardly recognized myself, but I guess that wasn't really a new occurrence. My face had a pale and sunken look to it, and my eyes seemed to have given up on being anything but bloodshot, even though it'd been days since I'd last wept. I absently wondered how long I'd been keeping up my routine of living in the library. It certainly must've been longer than I was aware of. Though, I suppose my not being able to even touch food might've had something to do with my appearance as well. That and the fact I no longer slept for more than ten minutes at a time. Either way, this was simply not how someone should present themselves to the Ministry.

I snatched my wand up from the dresser where I had left it and muttered a few small spells to manage my appearance. I cast another glance into the mirror, deciding it was the best I could do for now. I quickly pulled my hair into a bun, securing it with an elastic.

The clock in the hall chimed out it's usual refrain, proclaiming it to be half-past eight. McGonagal would be here any moment.

I quickly slipped on my robes and headed out my bedroom door.

"What do you mean I'm "definitely most unqualified"?" I screeched. But I wasn't finished, "I was the brightest witch in my year!"

McGonagall and I hadn't even made it unto the Minister's office; we were stuck talking to his secretary.

"Ms. Granger," the secretary replied in a hushed tone, "I'll thank you to keep your voice down. Now, I'm sure you're quite aware, even if we were to allow Hogwarts to reopen, we have never, never in the past allowed anyone to teach who did not score in the top ten percentile of their age group in their N.E.W.T. testing."

"Oh, do you want me to take my N.E.W.T.s? I'll do it. Let's do it now, hm? Forget 'top ten percentile.' I'll ace it. I swear to you..."

McGonagall broke in sharply, "Hermione, clearly we have come at a bad time." She pointed her attention to the secretary, "I would like to schedule an appointment to meet with the Minister as soon as possible."

The secretary looked relieved at the thought of the two people in front of her desk leaving, so she immediately obliged, "Next Thursday at 9 a.m."

McGonagall nodded, turned and began heading for the door, but not before she had successfully gotten hold of my forearm. She drug me all the way to the main entrance.

Once there, she finally spoke, "It will not do to go around yelling incensed things at ministry employees. Whether we like it or not, they are in charge of the fate of our school; for now, anyway."

It was all that I could do to simply nod in understanding and follow her out the front door.

A/N: I hope you're all not too unhappy I've gone and offed Fred too. Well, Fred and Harry. But it was pivotal to my plot line, you know?

Thanks to my reviewers:

To my first reviewer (and coincidentally roommate) Jilly, otherwise known as J-J7. I am sorry, Jill that this isn't a Harry/Draco fic. Though, that dream I promised you is coming up in one of the next chapters. But really, should I just go through and have Microsoft Word switch "Hermione" to "Harry"? Hehe... That'd be kinda funny, me thinks. But I probably won't. -- Also, I apologize for killing your favorite Weasley twin; my decision was based solely the thought "Well, hey... which name do I like better?" And I just didn't see Hermione falling in love with a guy named George. ;) But that's all kind of beside the point now, isn't it? Poor Fred has left our heroine for the afterlife.

To my second reviewer: AngelBaby07, I checked out your profile, and I see you're a supporter of the insert Weasley twin here/Hermione pairings. And, I'm sorry I killed Fred. I kinda really feel bad about that. But it's essential to my plot line. Maybe the next fic I do will be a complete Fred/Hermione one... I think that'd be nice. Maybe I'd 86 the angst too, that'd be a nice change of pace :)

Review?