Chapter 13: Fred: Part 1

Dearest Fred,

I don't really know where to start with this letter to you. I suppose I'll start with thanking you. Thank you for making me smile. Thanks for making me laugh even when I didn't want to. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and never trying to change me. Thank you for all those late-night talks during the summer holidays at the Burrow. I enjoyed them very much. You probably got to know me better than anyone, even if you don't know it. Thank you for wiping away my tears even when you didn't know what was making me cry. Thank you for pranking Ron when he was being a prat to me. Thank you for everything. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me.

I'm sure you're wondering why I made it so your letter wouldn't open until George finished reading his. Well, I've tasked him with explaining that later. For now, I left something very special for you, Fred. It's in your envelope and it's the most precious thing I have ever possessed. Take care of it, please. They're my memories. You don't have to watch them if you don't want to, but I'm hoping you will. Because Fred, I have one regret and that is never telling you the truth.

If you choose to watch my memories, the rest of my letter to you will appear on the blank piece of parchment that is also in your envelope. If not, that's okay. This will be the end then.

I truly hope you are happy. Take care of Alicia and know that you have something very special with her.

Love always,

Hermione

Fred looked up from his letter in confusion. This letter made no sense to him and he couldn't understand why Hermione was making her goodbye to him so complicated. Fred looked at George with furrowed brows and reached in his envelope once more to extract a vial of swirling white memories. After George had emerged from the Pensive a few minutes previously with tears in his eyes, Fred was apprehensive to see the memories Hermione had left for him, but he was also burning with curiosity.

For unknown reasons, Fred's heart began to pound against his ribs as he emptied his vial and plunged into the small basin of churning thoughts.

Fred landed in an all too familiar place. The Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Looking around, Fred determined it had to be close to Christmas because the entire hall was covered in glittering decorations. Fred didn't have the chance to wonder what memory of Hermione's this was because just then, he heard a sniff from around the corner. He looked around and followed the noise when he saw himself also approaching the sound. Fred paused, then instantly remembered this memory. The Yule Ball.

"What's wrong, Granger?" Fred heard himself ask as he rounded the corner to see a broken Hermione sitting against the wall with tears streaming down her face. "Did my prat of a brother do something to make you upset?"

Hermione looked up at Fred with startled eyes and, after a moment, nodded.

Fred watched himself sigh and take a seat on the ground next to the younger version of Hermione. This whole 'seeing other people's memories' thing was a very strange experience. With a shrug, Fred sat on the other side of Hermione and listened to them speak. He remembered this night very well.

"You know you can't take everything Ron says to heart, right, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded and sniffed. "I know," she said in a small voice. "I just can't believe he would ruin tonight for me. I was so excited to go to the Ball with Viktor. This is the first time anyone has looked at me and seen more than just a bossy, know-it-all, bookworm. I just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted."

There was a pause here where Fred remembered trying to figure out what to say. "People do see you as more than that, Hermione. And if they can't see that, then they're stupid. You have to let them see it on their own. As for Ron, don't let him get to you. You deserve better than that kind of treatment."

Hermione looked at Fred and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Fred. I needed that."

Fred laughed. "How did you know I was Fred and not George?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I've just always been able to tell, I guess."

Fred chuckled at the memory. She never did tell them how she knew the difference between them. The memory-Fred stood from his seat on the floor and offered his hand to Hermione, who took it gently and pulled herself up. "Come on, Granger," he said. "Let's get you a drink from the Hall. And possibly some ice cream."

Hermione laughed and Fred remembered that this was when he vowed to make her laugh as often as possible.

The memory faded to be replaced by another one. This time, Fred stood in the dingy, dark hallway of number twelve Grimmuald Place. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of the place and couldn't understand why Hermione liked any memory of this place enough to put it away for safe keeping. Nonetheless, Fred moved toward the room that Harry and Ron had shared, noticing excited voices coming from the room. Fred peered into the room and saw himself and George apparate into the room from their own.

This was when everyone got their letters and Hermione and Ron discovered that they had been made Prefects. Fred kept his eyes on Hermione as he listened to himself and George rip into Ron for being made a Prefect. He didn't notice it then, but now that he's looking at her, Fred could see how quiet Hermione had gotten when they started saying that only prats were made Prefects. He saw her face fall and her eyes grow sad and he instantly wished he could reach back and slap his past-self for being so thoughtless and saying such things.

Fred watched as Hermione excused herself from the room. He followed as his past-self continued to make fun of Ron. Hermione went to the room she shared with Ginny and Fred stuck close by her side. Hermione sat on her bed with her Hogwarts letter sitting next to her.

"You know," said a voice from the doorway. Fred turned as Hermione looked up. Sirius stood leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. Fred looked on at him in awe. He never thought he'd see Sirius Black again. "Fred's not picking on you for being made a Prefect."

Hermione blushed a little then snorted. "He said only prats get made Prefects."

Sirius chuckled lightly. "He was only picking on Ron. It's an older brother's duty to pick on his younger brother."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fairly certain he meant all Prefects."

Sirius shook his shaggy head. "No," he said. "His three older brothers were all made Prefects and he doesn't think they're prats. Well, with the exception of Percy, I'm sure. Fred respects and likes you. He doesn't think that of you."

Hermione sighed and leaned back, resting on her elbows. "Does it matter?"

Sirius was quiet for a moment. "You care for him, Hermione," he said gently. Hermione blushed. "If it matters to you, it matters."

Hermione sat up and looked down at her hands, trying to hide her flushed cheeks. "How did you know?"

Sirius smirked and chuckled again. "You remind me of Harry's mum. Lily and James were very similar to you and Fred. I could see it from a mile away."

Despite herself, Hermione smiled lightly as Sirius left her doorway.

The memory changed again and this time Fred found himself standing in the Hog's Head, the day they formed Dumbledore's Army. He watched on as Hermione gained confidence while talking to the large group of teenagers and saw the memory-form of himself smile at her in encouragement. Hermione smiled back at him and continued to address the group, a pale pink blush tinging her cheeks. She was getting very good at hiding her blush.

On their way back to the castle after that first meeting, Fred remembered beginning to see Hermione in a different light. She was so rebellious that year. Hermione turned and smiled at him in a mischievous way.

The memory changed again. And again. And again. Fred lost track of how many memories of Hermione's that he had now witnessed. He considered leaving the Pensive early, convinced that her memories were never-ending, when all of a sudden a particular memory caught his attention. It was the day he proposed to Alicia. Confused as to why this memory was one Hermione would want him to relive, Fred watched the scene before him carefully.

The room fell quiet as they all watched Fred get down on one knee at the weekly Weasley family dinner.

"Alicia, we've known each other for years. We've played Quidditch together, fought in the war together, and we've been friends since you knocked me out with my own Beater's Bat," past-Fred began. Current-Fred blocked out the rest of the proposal and focused on Hermione's blank face. Of course he hadn't noticed it before – he had been too busy baring his heart – but now that he looked at her closely, he could tell that the event had bothered her. "… will you marry me?"

Alicia squealed. "YES!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Fred saw himself scoop Alicia up in a fierce hug but that was the least of his worries. Hermione was using the chaos of happy people as a cover to slip out of the room, unnoticed. Fred followed her. Surprisingly, so did George. Fred watched as Hermione quickly put on her traveling cloak and tried to fasten the silver clasps.

"Hermione," George said gently as he stood next to her at the coatrack.

Hermione looked up quickly before focusing once more on the clasps of her cloak. "Oh, hello, George. Sorry, I've got to go. I've just remembered I left a potion to brew at home and it's nearly time for me to add the next ingredient."

"Hermione," George said again, this time with sympathy.

She ignored him. "Will you give your mother my apologies? I don't mean to be so rude and leave this early. Oh, and please give your brother my congratulations."

"Hermione," George said again, this time with a little more finality in his tone. Fred watched at Hermione froze on the spot and a slight tremor shook her shoulders. She was refusing to turn and look at George. George sighed and gently turned her around to pull her into a soft embrace. "Hermione, I am so sorry," he whispered into her hair as she cried softly into his chest. For a moment there was nothing more that needed said between them and Fred couldn't help but feel a little irritation. What was this all about? Why had his twin not mentioned this encounter to him before?

It only took a brief moment for Hermione to gain her composure back and she soon pulled away from George to wipe away her tears. "It's okay, George. It doesn't matter."

George glared at her. "Of course it matters, Hermione! You're hurt – "

Hermione held up her hand. "I know I'm hurt. But it isn't about me. I'm happy for them, despite how much it hurts." George looked like he was about to argue again but Hermione silenced him with a small kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye, George. I really do have a potion going at home. I'll see you later. Happy Christmas." She then quietly slipped out of the house and into the cold winter night. Fred watched as his twin sighed and seamlessly slipped back into the family room to congratulate his twin, the troubled expression never quite leaving his face.

Now thoroughly confused, Fred watched as the scene changed again. This time Fred found himself in the kitchen of Hermione's flat. According to the calendar hanging by the doorway, it was now the end of January, a month after Fred had proposed to Alicia. Hermione walked into the kitchen, dressed in her night clothes. Fred noted how tired she looked and slightly sickly. Hermione tapped the kettle with her wand and waited for it to heat up with her back pressed against the counter. Hermione sighed lightly and folded her arms across her body. It was clear to Fred that something had woken Hermione and she could not get back to sleep. All of a sudden Hermione collapsed right there on the kitchen floor and Fred screamed out for her. Fred wanted nothing more than to go to her aid but when he tried he realized that this was a memory and there was nothing he could do.

Fred watched on in horror for several minutes before Hermione came to again. If it had not been for the whistling of the kettle, Fred feared that she might have remained unconscious for much longer. Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and sat up. Fred watched with worry as she looked down at her shaking hands and tried again and again to get up off of the floor. Finally, after several attempts, Hermione managed to pull herself up with the help of the counter edge. She was shaking so badly she nearly fell once more.

"Okay," she mumbled to herself. "This is getting out of hand. I need a Healer." With a quick flick of her wand, Hermione silenced the whistling kettle and slowly made her way to the kitchen fireplace where Fred could see a small pot of Floo powder sitting on the mantle. "Saint Mungo's." Hermione said clearly as she stepped into the emerald flames and in an instant, she was gone. And so was Fred.

This time, Fred blinked up at the blinding lights of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He looked around, anxious to see if Hermione was okay. Fred nearly slapped himself. Of course she wasn't okay. She was currently laying in a bed in this very hospital, dying of a broken heart. Fred fell silent as he watched Hermione speaking with a Healer in lime green robes.

"Is there any way of curing me, sir?" she asked weakly.

The Healer nodded. "There is a way," he said. Hermione looked at him with a glint of hope in her eyes. "A Dead Heart is caused by meeting or realizing who your, for want of a better term, true love is. Now, if you can get this person to reciprocate your feelings, your heart will heal and you will be restored to full health."

Hermione's eyes shined with tears she was holding back. She shook her head and her eyes flicked down slightly. That's how Fred knew she was about to tell a lie. "But I don't know who it is! There's got to be another way to cure me!"

The Healer hesitated but continued. "There is another way," he stated slowly.

Hermione sat up a little straighter.

The Healer paused again. "It is possible to cure your heart if you forget you ever met this person." Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "If you take a combination of a Forgetfulness potion and cast and Oblivious Charm on yourself, you will forget you ever met this person and therefore your heart will heal itself because it won't remember them either. This is a very risky rout to take, Miss Granger. The combination of the potion and the spell will cause you to lose your memory from up to ten years ago."

"So, I wouldn't remember anything?" Hermione asked sadly. The Healer nodded. "No, I can't do that. I don't want to forget everyone and everything I love."

The Healer nodded. "Then I'm afraid that our only option is to try and discover who this person is, Miss Granger."

Hermione's face went blank. "What if… what happens if we can't?"

The Healer sighed. "Then, I'm sorry, but a Dead Heart is fatal."

Hermione nodded. "How long do I have?"

"It's hard to say. This is a very rare condition. It hasn't been seen in this hospital for generations. I think the last time we had a case like yours it was the year 1910. We have thoroughly documented each case and it seems that only three of those cases have been fatal. The rest were able to get reciprocated love or otherwise chose to forget. Those who died, however, they only lasted about a year."

Tears escaped Hermione's eyes at this and she nodded.

The scene changed for the final time and Fred was surprised to find himself, once again, in Hermione's flat. This time Hermione was sitting on the floor in front of the full-length mirror next to her bed. It must be night time because she was once again in her night clothes of a tank top and shorts.

Hermione looked in the mirror. "Fred," she said.

Fred furrowed his brow in confusion and cautiously stepped closer to the fragile looking witch. "Yes?" he answered, testing the waters. This was a memory, how could she be speaking to him?

Hermione sighed and adjusted herself on the soft rug. "Fred," she started again. "This is going to be a strange memory of mine for you to watch. If I do it correctly, this will be the last memory of mine you see. Well, I just wanted to say thank you in person for everything you've ever done for me. You have no idea what your kindness means to me. Now, as it stands right now, tomorrow is your wedding day. I cannot tell you how happy I am for you, Fred. Alicia is a wonderful girl and you two are so lucky to have each other. I'm not going to lie," Hermione continued with a sigh. "Going to your wedding is going to take its toll on me. I've kept it well hidden from everyone, but I'm getting weaker. Every day is getting harder and harder to get out of bed. I know I don't have long left but, hey, I made it past what the Healer said I would." She tried to smile. "I suppose that'll be some sort of magical, medical record or something," she continued with a roll of her eyes. It took a moment before she spoke again. Fred decided to sit in front of her so he could look directly at her while she spoke to him. "I'm tired, Fred," she said in a quiet voice. She got a far-away look in her eyes and she absentmindedly reached up to gently touch the black mark on her chest, above her heart.

"I know I don't have much longer. I'm going to die soon. I don't want to die, Fred. There's so much I still want to do." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I wanted to write my own book, travel the world, get married, have kids… Now, none of that is going to happen. I suppose I can just hope that I was a good professor and that perhaps my students will retain the things I've tried to teach them. I'm going to miss working at Hogwarts. It was definitely another home to me.

Oh, I'm sorry, I've gotten off topic," she said with a small smile and a shake of her head. "I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me, Fred. You were always there to make me laugh and you weren't afraid to tell me when you thought I was wrong. I always appreciated a good conversation with you. George, too. You are both amazing wizards and no matter what I said in school, you two are brilliant and so are your products." Hermione gave the mirror a small smile. "Thank you for everything, Fred. Make sure you take good care of Alicia. I'll see you again someday hopefully a long time from now. Do me a favor and make sure Luna and George get together? It's high time they admit their feeling for each other and just snog already."

Fred chuckled lightly at this and his voice broke. He was crying now and he hadn't even realized it.

"Well, I suppose that's it for me, Fred. I'll see you tomorrow when you get married. Good luck! I love you."

With that, the memory ended and Fred felt himself being lifted from the Pensive.

A/N: Depending on the time I have and the responses I get, I may add a few more chapters to this. I'm torn with adding a second part to this chapter or just moving on. Anyway, I hope you lovely readers like this one. It killed me to write it.