Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Now that Freddie has the tools to make Hermione smile, lets see if he can do it. It won't be easy, but he can do it!

Sit back an enjoy.

Love always,

Avoline

Fred softly closed the door behind him. Hermione was clearly asleep, and the peaceful look on her face nearly brought Fred to tears. He wished he could make her feel this peaceful all the time. He wished he could make her forget about the test, the tumor, the fact that she's dying. He wanted to make every single one of her worries go away.

But he couldn't. All he could do was watch as she wasted away before his eyes. He might not ever get to see her hold his children. He might not get to properly introduce her to his brother, Charlie. She deserved a full life, with children and grandchildren.

He laid next to her and pulled her close. If he thought about it too much, he'd drive himself to a nervous breakdown. She needed him strong, not broken.

"Fred, you're trembling," she murmured. He laughed softly, hoping to throw her off.

"Sorry, luv," he answered. "Just a little chilly."

It wasn't something that was too unbelievable. It was mid-winter, after all, and he had a horrible habit of forgetting to turn on the heater. He knew she would buy the lie quickly.

But for how long? How long would he be able to hide his fear from her? How long until she figured out how useless he was to her? She was the brightest witch of her age. She would eventually catch on, and she would be so angry with him. She would probably pack her bags and leave as soon as she could.

And he wouldn't blame her. She hated be lied to, and here he was, lying to her like it was nothing. He wouldn't be too surprised if she cut him so far out of his life, he would never be able to get in touch with her again.

A lie would be kinder than the truth, though.

"Forgot to turn on the heater, didn't you," she joked. He chuckled.

"Yeah, as always," he replied.

"You've got to start remembering," she scolded lightly. He gently kissed the top of her head.

"I will, love," he assured. "I promise." He knew she was just barely awake, and he heard her breathing start to even out. "Sleep, love. I'll still be here when you wake." She answered with a slight moan, then went silent. He gently slid his arm out from under her head, then silently rose to his feet.

He managed to make her smile. For the first time in twenty-four hours, she had smiled.

But for how long? How long until he couldn't make her smile anymore? How long until her depression became too much? He knew it would happen, and once she started retreating into herself, there would be nothing he could do. Once depression set in, he would be powerless to help her. He wasn't sure what would be worse: finding out that she was dying or knowing that he couldn't make her smile anymore.

"You okay," George asked from the couch. Fred nodded. "You really aren't, are you?" Fred sighed and flopped onto the couch.

"How long until I can't make her smile," he muttered. "How long until depression sets in?"

"Don't think that far ahead, Freddie," George instructed. "Think about now. Right now, she's fine and not depressed. Right now, she can laugh and smile and enjoy everything."

"George, I can't help it," Fred shot back. "I can't help but think about it! Something's wrong with her, and I can't ignore it!" He felt the emotions building, and fought to hold them back. "She's my wife. She sat with you and I every day once the battle was over. She was by my side when it looked like-"

"Don't you dare," George growled. "You were injured, yes, but you were nowhere near death."

"Keep telling yourself that, George," Fred argued, his voice dangerously low. "Keep telling yourself that. Cause you're the only one who believes it." The twins glared at each other, then George sighed.

"Look at us," he murmured. "Fighting over something that happened three years ago. What if Hermione was to wake up and see us like this?" Fred sighed and looked away.

"She'd blame herself," he whispered, his voice so soft that it barely registered in his own ears. "She'd think that she caused it, when she didn't."

"We need to get our act together," George whispered. "Otherwise we're only going to make the situation worse." Fred nodded.

"She needs to be stress free," he mused, his voice quivering slightly. "And I plan on her being so stress free."

"Then start now," George offered. "Don't think too far ahead. Think about the now. Cause that's all that matters."