Hermione
As the sun begins to set, the Weasley family starts gathering their things to return to the Burrow for a late supper. Molly always brings breakfast, lunch, and dinner - but one or two of her sons will begin complaining at five about being hungry. I haven't eaten today, but I'm in no mood to return home. I live in a constant state of fear of Fred waking up or passing on without me being there.
"Are you staying the night again, Hermione?" Arthur asks me, a hand on my shoulder. I haven't budged from Fred's side in hours, and my body feels sore as I turn to face his father.
"I think so, Mr. Weasley," I respond with a half smile.
He hesitates before nodding. "Take care of yourself." He leaves with the rest of the family, shutting the door behind him. I turn back to Fred, squeezing his hand tighter. In the beginning I worried that his family felt awkward with my staying more nights than even Molly, but eventually realized I simply didn't care. My need to be around him felt more important.
I stand up, facing the bed, and slide my hands underneath his left arm and carefully push him to the right side of the bed. I transfigure my jeans into sweatpants wandlessly as I tie my hair up into a thick ponytail before stretching out on the bed next to him. I lay on my right side, facing him, and place my fingers on the red-orange stubble growing on his cheeks.
"Looks like you need a shave, babe," I mumble before sliding my hand to rest on his chest and closing my eyes.
Fred
I'm back in St. Mungo's. I'm stuck wandering the halls again. Dragging my fingers against the wall again. Passing strangers again. The worst part is that I can't even explore any of the floors except the fourth, which was the floor for spell damage. I can only imagine something has me tethered here. I stop walking to rest in a chair outside room 312, knowing that something has to do with this room. I watch the door, half expecting something to happen. Of course nothing does.
I pass a hand over my face, and am mildly surprised to feel some stubble growing there. My physical appearance hasn't changed at all for the time I've spent in this strange limbo. Granted, I have no idea how long I've been here. It may have only been a few days, which is why it's just now showing up.
I hear a clicking noise, and look up to find that the door to 312 is open. I jump up, walking briskly inside and looking around. It's empty. The bed is made, the white sheets tucked in around the edges of the mattress. I walk around the perimeter of the room, hoping for the dizzy feeling that lets me briefly see Hermione, but nothing happens. I stomp one foot, frustrated, and am about to leave when I catch a glimpse of something moving in the mirror by the door. I step up to it, but I have no reflection. I stretch out my hand to touch the glass, but I'm met with no hand. I pat my chest, and feel solid. I just can't see myself. I stare into the mirror closely, and see the bed behind me in the reflection.
The image shifts a little, and suddenly I see myself, but I'm laying down in the bed, tucked in neatly, with Hermione curled up next to me, her hand on my chest. I spin around, but we're not there. My heart pounding, I face the mirror again, banging my fists against it, shouting her name. She doesn't budge. A few moments later, the image shifts again, and I'm faced with my own reflection. I sigh, pressing my forehead against the cool surface, wondering where the hell I am.
Hermione
I wake up to Ron watching me from the chair by the bed. I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress.
"'Morning," I greet without smiling. Another day without Fred.
"You were talking in your sleep, you know. Fred always said you did, but Harry and I never heard it while we were hunting for Horcruxes." Ron responds, laughing a little. "Maybe you only did it around him."
I allow myself a little laugh to please Ron, but it feels hollow and fake and he knows it. "Is everyone else on their way here?"
"No," he answers. "They said they weren't going to come until this afternoon, but wanted someone to check on you. They're a little worried."
"Fred's the one unconscious." I grumble back as I transfigure the sweats back into jeans and use a quick spell to wash my hair and freshen my breath.
Ron scoffs but doesn't respond. We watch Fred in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to say.
Finally I look back at Ron. "Hey, if you want to head home, feel free. I'm alright here."
He looks at the clock on the wall. "I have to meet Luna in Hogsmeade in a few minutes, actually."
I can't help but feel bitter about his relationship. Both of them were conscious. "Oh, yeah? How is that going?"
His face brightens despite the heavy atmosphere of the hospital room. "She's really great. I can't believe I never really looked at her like this while at school. I think this could last for a while."
"That's great, Ron." I say. He nods happily as he stands up. He punches Fred lightly on the shoulder.
"Wake up soon, mate. Laughing isn't the same without you." Ron kisses my cheek before leaving the room.
"He's right, you know," I say to Fred. "I don't think I've laughed since the Battle." I pat at his blankets absentmindedly, wanting something to do. "Remember when I thought you were the least funny person in existence? Merlin, I really had a stick up my ass, didn't I?" I roll my eyes at my past self, smiling a little.
"Granger!" George exclaims, throwing his arm around my shoulder and falling into step with me. "Just the brain we wanted to see!"
"Oh, come now, Georgie," Fred admonishes, throwing his arm around my waist. "She's much more than a brain."
"And what do you two want, exactly?" I respond, exasperated. We went through this every day. My thirteen year old self was extremely fed up. I stopped walking, and they dropped their arms and stood in front of me, side by side.
"We just want your advice on something," George began.
"We're developing a new product, you see-" Fred continued, grinning from ear to ear.
"-and we don't know if we should use Astragalus root-"
"-or dragon's blood-"
"-to complete it!" George finished, laughing unnecessarily.
"That depends, what is this product for?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Those are two very different ingredients."
"Well… We want to make-"
"Freddie, mate, you can't tell her. She won't like it."
"Who else would we ask? Snape?"
"We could just experiment-"
"-and potentially kill someone? What if this ingredient means life or death, Georgie?"
I rolled my eyes. "Listen, don't kill anybody. I have to go to the library, however. I do plan on studying for my exams, even if you two may not." I pushed through them, but Fred grabbed my arm.
"Okay, Hermione. It's for a line of candies that have...well, some side effects."
I furrowed my brows and looked between them. "Like…?"
"Like throwing up or breaking out in hives," Fred explained as George throws his hands up in the air in frustration.
"Why would you want to make candies that make people sick? That's awful!" I exclaimed, a little offended that I was being dragged into this. I opened my mouth, prepared to rant, but Fred holds a hand up, and I stopped.
"Alright, George. You were right. We'll just have to research on our own. She doesn't understand our products, just like Mum." They walk around me and off toward the common room. I stood still, shocked, before making my way to the library, feeling oddly guilty.
"You were right, of course, Fred." I say, playing with his fingers. "I didn't understand your products. I thought you two were ridiculous. I'm glad I changed my mind, though."