Thank you to all the wonderful readers out there. This one is for you.

As soon as Lucy disappeared into the floo network, Fred turned to face the Death Eater chasing after its wand. The explosion of the windows toppled the window display of cauldrons with enough force the floor trembled. The little chandelier overhead shattered, raining down crystal shards. The floor glinted with winking glass and crystal. Adrenaline shot through his veins. It made him feel alive…too alive as though he were drunk on life. His gaze darted toward the fireplace. If he was quick enough he might be able to escape yet too. But he didn't want to. The urge to fight thrummed through him. It was a siren's call he couldn't resist. Lucy was safe. His next move would be for himself.

"Petrificus Totalus." The crashing of cauldrons drowned his voice out.

The first Death Eater froze, its fingers mere inches from its wand. Fred crouched behind one of the shelves that managed to remain upright. The door crashed inside, revealing another Death Eater haloed in sunlight.

"Expelliarmus."

The Death Eater's wand moved to block the spell in one swift, graceful movement. A curse rocketed toward him and he dodged it. The shelf exploded as he sprinted for the next one. A piece of glass tore across his arm, leaving a thin line of blood behind.

"Petrificus Totalus."

This time the Death Eater ricocheted the spell back at him. He blocked it with a shield charm and darted toward the next set of shelves. The line of shelves on the other side of the room toppled, barely missing knocking into the frozen Death Eater. By the time they were done there'd be nothing left of the shop.

"I will destroy all your hiding places, you coward," a high pitched voice called to him.

He bit his tongue to hold in his retort. Now wasn't the time to lose his focus. Two more sets of shelves and he'd be on top of her. He darted again and sent another Expelliarmus her way. Her own spell met his halfway, both of them exploding in a sizzling light show. The shelves in front of him went flying across the room from the force, giving him nowhere else to hide.

"There you are," the woman cried. "I promise this will be over quick, just be a good boy for me and quit running."

Close enough, he decided. He put up a shield charm and ran at the woman. Just as he'd predicted she threw a curse at him and it bounced off his shield. She hesitated, unsure of what to do about the maniac preparing to plow into her. Then he rammed into her and they both toppled to the floor in a heap, her hood falling to reveal a long golden braid. All was fair in a duel and in his experience physical contact tended to unbalance his opponents. They always relied on their magic instead of learning how to take a punch. He'd grown up with enough brothers to know how to fight without a wand. George alone had given him a fair share of bruises from wrestling.

His hand closed around her wrist and he fought to grab her wand. "Get off me!" she shrieked and slapped the side of his face. The hits stung and he let out a growl. Her grabbed her free arm and pinned both to the ground, using his weight to stop her wiggling. The woman smelled like roses. A smell that made him think of funerals and anguish and the yellow roses Angelina liked but always forgot to water. The woman's knee jerked up toward his groin. He rolled to the side to avoid her hit, his grip on her loosening. It was all the opening she needed. A blinding light flashed from her wand and he went sailing through the air. He crashed onto the counter, landing hard on his left arm with a crack. His foot hit the cash register and sent it sliding to the floor, his body following after it. A sharp jolt of pain shot up his left arm as it whacked against the floor. His breath left him in a painful wheeze. His arm lay at an odd angle. Definitely broken, he decided. Once the adrenaline wore off he'd be in a world of pain.

"Come on now, aren't you a Weasley? I expected you to be a better fighter than this. I went looking for you at your shop you know. Now that I've finally found you, I'm not letting you make it out of here alive." Glass crunched beneath her feet as she approached the counter.

Determination surged through him. This woman would be a challenge to take down and he couldn't say no to a challenge.

Her head throbbed. The nap had done nothing to get rid of her aches. She felt as if she'd fallen off a broom only to be promptly run over by a car. The only thing she remembered about her arrival at St. Mungo's was whacking her head against the floor. Everything else was fuzzy and laced with pain. According to her nurse, she'd arrived screaming for Fred. She'd take back every rude remark she'd made about him if he'd just manage to survive.

The door opened and a woman she didn't recognize stuck her head in.

"Excuse me, were you at Diagon Alley during the attack?"

"What?"

"Can you give me a quick statement? How many Death Eaters did you see?"

She gaped at the woman.

"Oh, and I'll need your name." The woman's quill hovered in anticipation over her little notebook.

"No."

The woman's face fell in disappointment. "Not even a short one? I can use a nickname if you'd like."

"Oi! Leave her alone," Oliver called. The woman's eyes widened and she backed out of the doorway. Running footsteps chased her down the hall.

"Sorry," Oliver said as he stepped inside with fresh drinks. "Reporters keep sneaking in."

"Did you find out anything on Fred?" She swung her feet over the side of the bed and sat up. A whoozy dizziness took over her head and she clutched at the bed to stay upright.

"Woah, calm down. You had a concussion, remember? Stay in bed and rest."

"Fred?" she pushed.

"Nothing yet, but they won't give information to anyone that isn't family. They are being more cautious than usual thanks to the reporters prowling around."

She groaned and flopped onto her back, sending a fresh wave of nausea through her head.

"I sent word to George on what you told me. I'm sure he'll be by as soon as he can. Well, if they let him in. Every visitor is being questioned." She accepted the iced water from him as he settled onto the chair beside the bed. "This place is a mad house so no saying when you will be released. The ministry is interviewing everyone who was at Diagon Alley. They should be here within the hour to talk to you."

"What's with the flowers?" A bouquet of colorful flowers sat on the bedside table beneath the window. Oli had never been one for flowers.

"A woman sent them for you. They are for saving her son. She stopped by earlier but you were asleep."

So those two got out. At least that was something positive to focus on. "Did anyone…die?"

"Don't know the details yet, but rumors are saying a few deaths and a lot of injuries. Sounds like it was a big attack but I've heard everything from three to three dozen Death Eaters." He pulled a hidden candy bar out of his pocket. "The nurse said it was fine. Thought it might make you feel better."

She eagerly grabbed for the candy bar. "Thank you!" Nothing better to drown her sorrows in then chocolate. "I saw at least three Death Eaters myself so there had to be more," she spoke through a bite of candy bar.

A knock sounded on the door. Oliver got up and answered, revealing a young man from the ministry. Oliver stayed in the room while the man interviewed her, his jaw tightening whenever she spoke of the Death Eaters. The interview didn't take long as the man worked through his checklist of questions. His voice sounded bored and it made her wonder how many others he'd already asked the same questions.

"Wait," she said when he got up to leave. "Do you know if Fred Weasley is okay?"

"Sorry, miss, but I'm not at liberty to give out any details yet. I also wasn't at Diagon Alley. I was sent straight here."

She slouched. George hadn't even come to visit yet. It felt like a bad omen. Sure, Fred had handled the Death Eaters one-on-one well, but more than one? If he hadn't come searching for her he would have been fine. The man bid them farewell and made his way to the next room.

"I need more dueling lessons," she blurted out. "So I can get as good as Fred. If there's a next time, I want to be able to handle myself."

Oliver ran a hand through his hair, mussing it and adding to his already frazzled look. "We'll worry about that when you're recovered. You need to take it easy for a week. And you shouldn't stay alone either. If the reporters get hold of survivor names, well who knows if there are other Death Eaters out there waiting to finish the job. I don't want you alone." He chewed on his bottom lip. "I'll have to find someone for you to stay with when I travel for matches."

She didn't have the desire or energy to argue his plan. The cat that liked to knock over garbage cans on her street in the middle of the night was likely to give her a heart attack after today. A metal tray clattered against the ground in the hall and she tensed.

"It's fine." Oliver patted her hand. "If you have to stay overnight I'll stay with you. The ministry is also guarding the hospital."

"Let me know as soon as you hear from George or Fred."

"Of course. Now go back to sleep. You need it."

She grumbled at him. As much as she didn't want to sleep, the pain medicine made her drowsy. She fought it, doing her best to keep her eyes open, but more than once she jerked awake. Beside her Oliver muddled through a crossword in the newspaper. He made little progress at it. She felt as if she only blinked, but when she opened her eyes again the crossword was half finished.

"Fifteen down is definitely Cromwell." A finger tapped the crossword.

"Good call." Oliver penciled in the name.

"George?" She shot up, cringing when her back and head twinged in unison. She swung her legs over the side of the bed then threw herself at him.

"Woah, take it easy." He rubbed a hand on her back in gentle circles. "Oli says you got pretty banged up. A concussion even."

"I'm fine. Is Fred okay?" Having George nearby made her feel safer. The warmth of him was reassuring. She hadn't noticed how cold the hospital was in her flimsy gown.

"He should be allowed to head home in the morning."

She didn't like the somber tone in his voice. "He isn't fine, is he?"

"A broken arm, split lip, and some other bruises but he'll be fine if a bit unhappy with the stomach ache he's going to get later if he doesn't calm down on the hospital's chocolate pudding."

She snorted.

"How are you really?" He moved to her bedside.

"I'll be fine. If not for Fred…" Her breath caught.

"It's okay." He laid a hand over hers. "Fred told me what happened. It seems I'm indebted to him for saving you."

"I… I don't know what I would have done without him." Emotion thickened her voice. It was strange to think the man who had left her annoyed and infuriated so many times had been the one willing to stick his neck out for her. It was a debt she couldn't begin to pay. "Can I see him?"

He shook his head. "He doesn't want any visitors. At least not until he goes home. Made me and Dad promise not to breathe a word to mum. She'll have a fit as soon as she hears. She worries some of our products and advertising will bring the Death Eaters after us specifically and this will make her fears worse."

"Then can you tell him thank you for me?"

"Will do." He saluted her.

She let out a happy sigh and leaned against him. "How did your meeting go?"

"Good right up until I tried to get back to the shop and found Diagon Alley closed off. I managed to get in after they cleared the area and the shop is fine." He blew out a breath and his shoulders slumped. "Not a moment I want to relive though. Fred has always been a bit of a dare devil, but you don't have his penchant for getting into trouble."

"Trouble finds me, not vice versa, and I wish it'd stop."

"Me too." He rested a hand on her back, his worried gaze boring into her. "I'm happy to see you doing well. Do me a favor and take it easy, all right? I can't handle any other excitement for at least a month."

"I'll be fine."

"We made a decision while you slept," Oliver butted in. "When I'm gone you're going to stay with George. Under the circumstances I think it's one of the safest places for you."

Her eyes grew heavy again. "That's fine." With her tension gone, nothing held back the exhaustion.

"Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning," George said.

She squeezed his hand to keep him from going. "Don't go yet. I just need to rest my eyes a minute."

The side of his mouth quirked up. "Whatever you say."

"I give it five minutes before she's snoring. Then we need to figure out ten across." Oliver tapped his quill against the crossword.

"Since when do you do crosswords?" she asked, her voice coming out groggy.

Oliver shrugged. "Nothing better to do here."

George leaned toward the paper. "What was the clue again? Something about purple goats?"

Fred was torn on whether or not he liked the time alone. Without George the hospital room felt too quiet. Too lonely. But escaping his brother's worried glances came as a relief. He couldn't help but feel envious too. George had someone to run off to for comfort. He wanted another pudding for comfort, but his stomach already ached. Blast it. George had been right about overdoing it.

He moved from the bed to the chair to get a better view outside. Part of the road had been blocked off by ministry members dressed up as muggle policemen. In the setting sun the empty street was eerie. Too reminiscent of Diagon Alley. He flicked the curtains closed. The damn attack had given him enough therapy material for weeks, not that he wanted to talk about some of it. As far as he was concerned some of it would never make it past his lips. How could he look his own brother in the eye and begin to explain how much fighting the Death Eaters excited him in more ways than one?

It'd been one of the best duels he'd had in months. His dueling club couldn't match the thrill of danger that came with a real duel. Or the determined passion in the woman's eyes when she'd tried to take him down. The last person to give him that look during a duel had been Lucy and she was another matter entirely. He couldn't get the surprised look of hers out of his mind when she'd asked why he came back for her. Sure he knew he tended to tease her too much, but she was George's girl and that made her practically family and the Weasleys didn't leave family behind. Yet he'd felt nothing but guilt when George pulled him into a bear hug and cried against his shirt.

He should have sent Lucy home earlier. He shouldn't have been tempted to kiss her when she made him promise he'd come back to her. And he definitely shouldn't have gotten turned on during his duel with the woman. Her golden hair meant she could be from the Malfoy family line. They'd always been egotistical arseholes who had it out for the shop. Bollocks, he really needed to find himself a proper relationship, preferably one where the woman trying to kill him didn't get his blood pumping. It was one more thing to add to his growing "what in the hell is wrong with me" list. Sure he'd always been a bit of a risk taker, but today had gone too far. And yet…he couldn't forget the buzz the fight gave him. The way it made him thirst to stay alive. To fight for it. It was the feeling he longed for on lonely nights when he contemplated his close call at the Battle of Hogwarts and whether or not he should have lived. His therapist called it survivor's guilt. To him it felt like drowning in sorrow and what-ifs.

Steps paused outside the door and Fred braced himself to face George. To pretend he hadn't been moping. The door opened and George shuffled in with an armload of drinks and snacks.

"Wasn't sure what you'd want so I brought everything." George gave him a strained smile. Guilt washed over Fred anew for making George worry.

"Thanks."

George piled the drinks and food onto the side table. Then he plopped into the free chair, awkward silence hanging between them. These uncomfortable silences were another thing he could attribute to the Hogwarts battle. For once neither of them knew how to discuss what happened afterwards. To discuss how it'd felt for George when he thought Fred had died or how Fred felt when the blast hit him and he was sure he wouldn't make it. The silences had built up ever since. It made him want to go back in time to before the battle. Back to when everything made sense and he didn't feel like a stranger in his own skin. Maybe that's why he teased Lucy so much, to make things feel normal like when he'd teased George's girlfriends in school.

George shifted. "Lucy said to tell you thanks."

Fred nodded and reached for a bag of chips. His stomach didn't feel ready for more food after all the pudding, but at least if he ate he wouldn't be expected to talk. Maybe he should apologize, but he didn't know what for exactly. He always felt like he had something to apologize to George for. "You don't need to stay the night," he tried instead. "You can go home. I'll be fine. I'm supposed to get out in the morning anyway, right?"

"I'm staying. If I go home I won't be able to sleep."

Silence hung between them again. That craving to drown his woes in booze began to creep up on him and he reached for a water instead. "Thanks," he murmured. "For staying."

"Try not to snore too loud tonight, okay?" A ghost of a smile crossed George's face.

Fred snorted. "Please. You should hear yourself some nights when you wind up on your back." The joking lightened the air, but he still felt unsettled. Maybe it was the hard hospital bed or the ugly floral curtains, but he couldn't relax. He wanted his own bed and his decidedly less ugly curtains. Maybe George's romantic side had rubbed off on him, but tonight what he wanted more than anything was to have someone there to hold him and tell him everything would be fine.

"Oh, and Lucy is going to stay for us during Oliver's next few matches. He doesn't want her alone after all this. I just wanted to warn you. Sorry I didn't discuss it with you first but under the circumstances I want her to be safe."

"That's fine." He returned to his chips, hoping they'd hide the way panic spiked through him at the thought of being in close quarters with her. Sure he'd just battled a few Death Eaters and lived to tell the tale. Even got the high score in Death Eater takedowns according to the ministry. But practically living with Lucy? That was far more terrifying to him.