Author's Note:

Alright. I want to say thank you for the reviews from my last post. I also want to reassure you that, NO I DID NOT KILL RON! I wasn't going for 'shock-value' as it was put, but I was going for a cliffhanger. I needed at least one this story. I will have you know that people will die in this story though. The Battle of Hogwarts does have to claim some lives. But, Ron, is not dead. He just needed a little sense knocked into him.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I did manage to get it written and posted quite quickly, which surprised even me. Hope you enjoy it. I really did enjoy Fred's two cents. I may go back and edit this once more, but for now I am happy with it.

Disclaimer:

Rowling owns all.

Love and War Chapter 19

Aftershock

George Weasley could not take it anymore. This waiting game was getting to him. It was gating and torturous. All he could do was pace back and forth along the length of the kitchen table. The food, which Molly had prepared him, was left untouched, along with a cup of calming tea, but George hardly cared.

His entire being was consumed by the happenings in the next room. It took all he had to wait in the kitchen while Fred and Hermione spoke to Ron and Harry about her capture. Fred was the calm one in situations like this. There was no way George would be able to remain that peaceful in there. Even Hermione knew it. It is why she had asked to do this without him. Seeing as how displeased Ron was at their interaction, George could only nod. And though George knew it was for the best, it did not ease his torment.

"I should be there with her," he muttered as he paced back and forth. George was half-tempted to use that extendable ear, but he promised Hermione he would not. All he could wish for was that she was holding it together in there.

There was the sound of Ron's bellowing coming from the other room, and George felt a knot grow in his stomach. With clenched fists, he remained still though he itched to burst into the next room. He had promised to stay out of this meeting, even if Ron were to shout. Something that was inevitable.

With fingers threaded through his hair, George collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. It had only been thirty minutes, but this meeting was taking too long. Fred explained earlier how time affects the deterioration, and right now precious minutes were being wasted. Hermione could be one-step closer to being healed. One-step closer to reality. Full reality. But she was dealing with his dim-witted younger brother and the chosen one first. For Merlin's sake, her health and safety had to come first.

Then he heard it.

The loud crash of glass and wood, vibrated on the wall separating the two rooms. Two frames were crooked and the swinging door moved like a pendulum from the force of whatever had just hit that wall. Hermione, he thought before springing to action and pushed through the door only to stop dead in his tracks.

Never before had a sight chilled him to the bone. Hermione, his strong and caring Hermione was huddled in a ball at the feet of his twin brother. Her eyes were dead, staring blankly, as she rocked back and forth in terror.

"Love," George's eyes were glued to her as he moved swiftly across the room, crouching down next to her. "Hermione?" His hand stroked the skin on her cheek in comfort but George felt his heart break. Her lips were moving, uttering silent words that no one could make out. Her eyes, normally bright and full of fire, were dulled. The ash, which swirled in her wide gaze, dead and unblinking, left George with a terror unlike no other. "What fucking happened," George growled, the question directed to the room's other occupants though his focus was locked on Hermione. His face was stone, iced over and hardened, as he watched the woman he loved dear in the aftermath of her extinguishing.

"She cursed Ron," Fred said, his hand patting George's shoulder gently for a moment. "Thought it was Greyback."

"Thought it was Greyback," George whispered, his fingers still gently stroking Hermione's cheek. "How is he?"

"Knocked out," Harry said softly, the sound of glass crunching beneath boots amplifying the gentle tone. "She hit him with a strong stupify."

"That's it?" George chuckled, before glancing back over his shoulder to take in the site. "Ah," he whispered, "I guess she didn't realise which curse she actually said."

"Lucky it wasn't something worse," Fred's own chuckling mimicked George's for a moment before both returned to their respective tasks.

"I'm sorry, but can someone please explain what is bloody happening?" The question danced in the air, Harry's words drifting to the unheard recesses of the room. George was sure Harry was eying both of them down, simultaneously, but there were matters of greater importance. He vaguely heard Fred offer a vague explanation before asking for assistance in waking Ron. George also heard the soft chanting of healing spells, but it was all barely registered. He did, however, clearly hear Fred's laughter.

"What's this remind you of, huh?" Fred asked the room, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"D.A. practise," George and Harry said in tandem. The humour of it all. That was the one thing George knew Fred would always bring out. The light, the laughter, the good-natured blessings of any situation, Fred Weasley was right there to point it all out. And George could not be any more grateful for that in this moment. He needed that joy, or how could he try to bring Hermione back this time. His witch, his beautiful witch, was lost in her mind again.

"Love," He whispered, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Love, it's me," he felt her twitch and, urged by this, he kept on going. His fingers tilted her head upward, rubbing gently the skin on her chin, until her eyes, though still unfocused, were meeting his. "'Mione, love, come back to me." But, still she stared. Empty. Broken.

"Georgie," Fred said softly, almost defeated, "She has to be of sound mind for the scan. I can't help her like this." That was a kick in the gut. George pressed his lips to her forehead, resting his chin on the top of her head for a moment. With eyes shut and tears stinging at the closed lids, he breathed in her scent. He needed some way to reach her.

"Merlin," George heard from across the room, and was filled with a silent relief. Ron was awake. At least his brother was all right. No matter how angry he was, George was glad he had not lost a brother. "Hermione can hit hard."

"Just couldn't control your temper, could you Ronnie," Fred taunted, while helping his younger brother into the armchair which Harry brought over.

"Sod off, will you Fred." Ron's words lingered around them in silence. George remained in his crouch, his hand rubbing up and down the length of Hermione back as he held her. What he would not do for her quick wit in this moment. Her sarcasm always brought in the light. And her intellect. Merlin, she would know just how to reach the lost person with in the mind. If it was him, she would not give up until she did.

"Love," He would not give up either. George pulled back to look at her face. No, he would never give up. "Can you hear me?"

"Her-Hermione," Ron sputtered, but was immediately silenced by Harry's raised finger.

"Hermione," Harry started, inching closer toward the broken witch who remained lost in George's arm. "It's me. It's Harry."

Merlin, Harry had done something there. Something sparked in her. George was certain that something sparked in her. He was not sure what, until words actually formed past her lips in a pained whisper.

"I don't know where," her eyes were still wide, but no longer dead, and for that George was relieved. It was a trigger. A trigger that brought her back to the place she felt the most pain, and, though he never wished for her to return, he at least knew what to do about it from there. This was horror he brought her back from every night. "Please, I don't know where."

"Hey," George said sternly, cupping her cheek, "Look at me, love. Focus on me."

"I don't know where," Hermione, continued her voice hoarse with guilt.

"Fred, get whatever potions you need for the scan," With authority, George commanded this moment. He pressed a kiss to her hand gently in a silent promise. He would not give up. Fred would be able to help her, and George would make sure of it. "Harry, you and Ron don't move." Harry nodded, but George was not looking. No, his eyes were trained on hers.

"George," Ron barked out only to be quickly hushed by Harry.

"Hermione, it isn't real," the soothing voice in which George spoke was only reserved for her. The stern authority devoid from his words, instead his love was channelled in hopes that it would act like a shot of adrenaline to the heart. "Love, come back to me. It's me, it's George. Come on, look at me."

It was then, the sweetest of things happened. A fire, a real fire of passion filled her orbs. Igniting the burnt coals into a soft smoulder. Her eyes drifted upward, as if she was being pulled back to a place of pure bliss.

"George?" she whispered, blinking a few times unsure as to where she was.

"There you are," his thumb traced the soft skin of her cheek, brushing away the stray tear which rolled down; "I thought I lost you."

"Please," she started hesitantly, "Don't let him touch me again." Her request was so soft, he almost missed it, but he did not. He knew who she was talking about. Ron was not the problem here. Greyback was.

"Never," he promised, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before she collapsed into his chest with a heart-wrenching sob.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered the chanted apology over and over into the fabric of his shirt, her hands balling the material in her fingers. "I didn't mean to."

"Shh, it's ok," George reassured each apology, each whispering of guilt, pulling her tight into his chest. "Love, you did nothing, everything is alright. Ron is alright."

"Hermione," Fred's voice boomed over the soft conversation, "If it's any consolation, I wouldn't want a hug from Ron either. Smells like dead walking, he does."

Never had George been so thankful for his twin brother. Ron's offended retort was lost in the air. Fred, his other half, laughed fully while Harry's own laughter joined Fred's with glimmer of understanding. But, it was the soft watery whisper of a giggle that floated against his chest made George's heart swell with joy. Hermione, though still sobbing with guilt, was back. And that was something far beyond magical.

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