Author's Note: I hope you are all doing wonderfully :)

(Also.. why has the site removed the line separator things!? Lame.)

XxX
Chapter Fourteen

George and I spent eight weeks and two days on the run. We hid out in abandoned houses, and we rented rooms in dirty, sketchy taverns, moving from place to place, never staying anywhere for more than a night or two.

During the fifth week, we stumbled upon Lee Jordan, our like-minded friend who'd been seeking shelter in the same slummy inn we'd decided to hole up in for the night, and the three of us traveled together afterwards, making light of the situation as best we could.

It might have actually been fun, if not for my constant worrying over Hermione, and the threat of catastrophic war that loomed over us all.

The feeling–that gut-wrenching anticipation–was suffocating.

And things had grown eerily quiet in the wizarding world.

The calm before the storm, I guessed.

We kept our ears out for news of Voldemort, and for news of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who'd vanished from Shell Cottage almost as quickly as they'd arrived, but we were hard-pressed to find even whisperings of any of it.

It was this stillness, this silence, that told us just how close we were to the end.

xx

I was sitting and staring out a grimy window, my unfocused eyes taking in the dull, grey afternoon, while my thoughts drifted back to cheerier memories of crisp Autumn nights and rooftop picnics and wonderfully awkward first kisses, when we at last got word that the end had finally come.

Our father's patronus hovered in the center of our small rented room, and his voice–usually so easy and boisterous–sounded small and tense.

Harry had returned to Hogwarts.

And Voldemort was on his way.

It was time for us to fight.

xx

"Fred. George," our dad said in a sigh of relief as he pulled first George and then me in for a firm hug.

I was already arching my neck, searching for any sign of Hermione. I had to see her. Even if she didn't want to speak to me. I just needed to look at her. To see with my own eyes that she was alright.

"Where is everyone?" George asked as he pulled back from our father's hug. "Is everyone here? Everyone alright?"

"Quite alright, quite alright," dad answered softly and reassuringly. "Bill and Fleur are just there, with Lupin," he said, nodding to the nearest corner of the room. "Your mother is out in the courtyard helping Minerva, and Ron and Ginny are with Harry and Hermione in the–" as he spoke, he turned to gesture towards the large doorway that led out of the Great Hall, but then he paused, giving an exclamation of mild, though pleasant, surprise. "Oh!" he said. "They're right there."

I spun to follow his gaze, my sight immediately settling on the small group huddled there in the doorway.

Hermione found my gaze at precisely the same moment that I found hers, and our eyes met and locked. She opened her mouth, looking for all the world like she wanted to call out to me, to approach me, but then she closed it again, her eyebrows narrowing.

It wasn't an expression of anger, however.

She only looked conflicted.

Uncertain.

Regretful.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. Maybe I was only seeing in her the things that I felt inside myself.

But then she gave me a smile.

Just a trace of a smile, really, barely ghosting across her delicate lips. But it was a smile all the same, and my chest clenched at the sight of it.

I took in a breath, the deepest, most satisfying breath my lungs had experienced in far, far too long, and then I smiled back.

The sweet moment was fleeting though, with Harry now tugging at her elbow and, with one last look back at me, Hermione was rushing off with Harry and Ron. In the time it took me to blink, she was gone again.

I was still staring at the place where she'd stood, when I felt my brother's presence suddenly right at my side.

"Dad wants us in the astronomy tower, manning the eastern wall," George said, and it was only then that I looked back to the place where our father had been just a moment before, and realized that he had stepped away, leaving just George and me, standing together in the middle of the bustling room while everyone else sprinted here and there around us, preparing for battle.

"You ready to do this?" he asked, and a memory briefly flashed through my mind, of George asking me that very same question, on a dark night on Privet Drive so many months earlier.

So much had changed since then.

Which is why it was such a comfort, as I met and held my twin's gaze, to realize that some things would always be the same. Forever. No matter what.

I was scared, there was no denying it; every single person in that castle was there with the understanding that this could very well be their last night on this earth.

So, yes, I was scared. Of course I was. Only a complete idiot would've not been scared.

But George was at my side. Literally, and figuratively.

He'd forgiven me for everything I'd done. Forgiven me so completely that he was still willing to fight beside me. To go down together, if it came to that.

And Granger had graced me with a smile. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.

So I flashed a cocky grin at George in response to his question.

Because, all things considered, it really wasn't a terrible night to die.

xx

Night had settled in and the sky had grown dark, though everything was illuminated by the brilliant light-show playing overhead as Voldemort and his followers used their wands to bombard the protective enchantments that surrounded the castle. Their curses and hexes hit the magical ward, cracking and splintering it.

It wouldn't be long before they'd destroyed it completely.

George was standing right beside me, and I heard him swallow. "You okay, Freddie?" he asked, suddenly breaking the silence, his voice understandably uneasy.

I stared at the protective ward, the only thing separating them from us. It was crumbling rapidly. I answered George's question with a nod, momentarily unable to find my own voice. "Yeah," I managed at last.

He leaned over, nudging my elbow with his, waiting for me to look at him. When I did, he gave me a nervous–but genuine–little smile. "Me too."

I returned the smile, and then we both redirected our gazes back to the night sky. Just in time to see the ward disintegrate.

They were in. I could hear their shouts and laughter, see their dark forms running across the bridge, many being defeated, but many more breaking through our first lines of defense and quickly trickling into the courtyard below, where our people immediately engaged them in battle. There were too many of them, though, and several were already pushing through, into the castle.

I wondered where Hermione was, whether she was down there right now, fighting for her life.

"Harry and Ron will do everything in their power to protect her," George said, sensing the sudden spike in my worrying and understanding the reasoning behind it. "Honestly, it's more likely that it'll be her saving those two. Quite brilliant, that one."

A choked laugh escaped my throat at that. "Yeah," I said. "You're definitely right about that."

There were shouts directly below us now, of curses and counter-curses, and bursts of light that flashed ever nearer and brighter.

I swallowed, tightened my grip on my wand, and turned to face the stairwell.

George did the same.

"Oi," he said, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him nervously licking his lips. "Try not to do anything too stupid. No running off and playing double agent with the Death Eaters tonight, alright?" he joked. There was dueling in the astronomy tower now, and footsteps rushing up the stairwell. George had to raise his voice to be heard now. "I need my brother."

"You do have four others, you know," I called back with a shaky laugh.

"Fred." His voice was serious now, and the sudden surge of adrenaline had him breathing hard and shallow.

I dropped the joking tone. "I know, George," I assured him. "Me too."

The first Death Eater broke through to the top of the stairs.

"Together?" George called out, and I nodded.

"Together."

And then we charged at our enemies.

xx

I don't know how long we fought on that tower; it felt like ages.

What I did know was that George and I had been separated. I'd tried to fight my way back to him, and I could see him on the opposite end of the turret, trying to do the same. But we just kept getting driven further and further apart, until I'd finally lost sight of him completely.

I could still feel him though.

I knew that wouldn't make sense to anyone else, but I could feel him. If anything had happened to him, I would've known it.

George was fine. I just had to find him again.

So I pushed on, battling my way back through the castle and, when I turned a corner and saw a glimpse of bright ginger hair at the far end of the corridor, I felt a momentary surge of hope.

But it wasn't George. It was Percy.

Not the Weasley I was most desperate to find, but a relief to see all the same.

Percy was dueling with Pius Thicknesse, skillfully and methodically hurling curses and jinxes and, when I made it to the end of the corridor and caught up with them, I was pleasantly surprised to find my older brother actually laughing and hurling insults at the Minister as well!

"Percy!" I shouted, pausing long enough to fire a curse at an approaching wizard. "Did you just make a joke!? Did you actually just–"

The delighted laughter died on my lips as a deafening explosion blew apart the wall just to my right.

I spun to face it, knowing that I was too close. There was no time to run. No time to move to safety.

So I just waited, bracing myself to feel the weight of stone on my body, crushing me, claiming me.

But it never came.

Over the impossibly-loud breaking and cracking of the ancient wall, I hadn't heard the horrified cry of "Evanesco!" ringing out from somewhere behind me.

But I watched, almost unbelieving, as every single fragment of the boulders and hunks of heavy stone that had been a fraction of a second away from crashing down all around me, suddenly vanished into thin air.

I should have been dead. In a flash, with no time to even react, my life had almost ended.

I turned, with widened eyes and shaking knees, searching for anyone or anything that could make sense of what just happened.

And I found Hermione Granger, some fifteen feet away, standing and staring back at me. She was wide-eyed as well and breathing heavily, her wand bobbing unsteadily in her trembling hand, but still aimed at the now-empty air above me.

"G-Granger?" I said weakly, suddenly feeling like I might actually faint.

Only, I couldn't do that. Not in front of Percy.

So, instead, I swore profusely, and then brushed the whole thing off with a too-shaky laugh. "Bloody hell," I breathed. "I think you might've just saved my life there, Granger."

And then she was running, throwing herself at me, arms tightening around my neck, into which she also buried her face, giving a terrified little shriek.

"It's alright," I said, wrapping one arm across her back and bringing the other hand up to cradle the back of her head. "It's alright. Hermione, I'm–"

I was silenced by the sudden presence of her lips on mine, in a kiss so frenzied, so absolutely crazed that, under any other circumstance, I probably would've been rushing us to the closest flat surface I could find. But, as it was, we were in a public corridor with a dozen others, several of them trying to kill each other and us.

She pulled back first and I immediately opened my mouth to speak, aching to tell her that I'd missed her, to tell her everything she'd come to mean to me in our short time together, but she just shook her head, not allowing it.

It was rather bad timing, I reckoned. And certainly not the most romantic of atmospheres, what with all the explosions and death and whatnot.

But she was smiling again. She was shaken and scared, but she was smiling.

"Where's George?" Ron asked, panting as he ran up to join us.

"I don't know," I said, inwardly reminding myself that I could still feel him, that he was safe. "We got separated." I looked back and forth from Ron to Hermione. "Where's Harry?"

"Looking for Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem," Hermione explained.

"Right," I said, nodding even though I had no idea what Rowena Ravenclaw and her legendary tiara could possibly have to do with anything.

"Hermione," Ron said, his eyes imploring her. "We have to go," he went on, flashing a golden goblet at her to remind her of whatever it was they were supposed to be doing.

She nodded at him, but then looked back to me.

"Go on," I told her with a smile. "Go help save the world."

She gave a breathy laugh and threw herself into me for one final hug.

Just as George came strolling casually down the corridor, sporting nothing more serious than a small cut across his right cheekbone.

xx

The battle raged on well into the morning hours and, though Voldemort pulled back his forces, allowing us a brief respite and a chance to catch our breath, there was still no rest or relief for those of us left living. George and I joined our father and brothers, helping them move the bodies of the fallen so that they could rest peacefully in the Great Hall. Friends, members of The Order, former classmates and professors–so many had been lost.

George and I had just laid Lupin and Tonks to rest, side by side, when Hermione came walking through the door, clutching Ron's arm for support.

I reached up, drying silent tears with the cuff of my shirt sleeve, and watched as she approached. Her hair was a mess, her clothes dusty and crumpled. Most importantly, she appeared uninjured, though her face was red and splotchy, with obvious tear tracks leaving trails down her dirty cheeks.

"Harry's gone," she said, those two words causing her voice to crack as she forced them out. "He went to face Voldemort."

I didn't say anything, just opened my arms to her, encircling her small body when she drew near, while George placed a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.

No more than a minute had passed before we heard the echoing slap of footsteps running across the stone, and a boy's voice shouting, "Quick! They're coming!"

Everyone rushed out into the courtyard, watching with dread as a host of dark wizards and witches confidently approached, lead by Voldemort, and by Hagrid, carrying the limp body of Harry Potter.

A pitiful whimper escaped Hermione, and she turned her face to cry into my chest. I tightened my grip on her and, in my periphery, I could see my dad struggling to hold back Ginny.

"It is finished!" Voldemort called out, a manic grin on his deformed face, his voice dripping with pride and triumph. "Harry Potter is dead!" he shouted, and his glee was echoed by the chorus of snickers of those who trailed behind him.

"I defeated the great Albus Dumbledore. And now I have defeated your precious boy wizard. The professed Chosen One." His smile widened at this recounting of his victories. "Surely you see now that my power is without equal." He scanned the faces of those who stood before him, his gaze searching, piercing all those who'd dared stand against him. "You will join me now. You will praise me."

"Come, come," he added when no one stepped forward, a false politeness to his tone. "I will willingly accept those who seek forgiveness. I do not wish to spill anymore magical blood tonight."

His roaming gaze continued to sweep over the assembled crowd, until at last it found–and then settled upon–me.

His top lip curled.

"Ah," he said, his voice now softer, more deadly. "What a disappointment you proved to be, young Weasley."

My heartbeat accelerated, and I felt it as everyone in that courtyard turned to stare at me. Even Hermione stopped crying and detached herself from my chest.

"There is a traitor in your midst," Voldemort went on, and I kept my face staring straight ahead at him, not wanting to look over and see the confusion and horror that I was certain I would find in the eyes of my parents. "Give him to me," Voldemort hissed, while Bellatrix paced behind him, slinking like a cat just waiting for her chance to pounce on a cornered mouse. "I will punish the guilty one myself."

At my side, George stiffened, ready to fight, but before either of us could act, it was Hermione who spoke up.

"The only thing he is guilty of, is risking his life to protect the people he loves," she said, and there was a surprising bite to her words as she spat them out. Even Bellatrix gasped, shocked and offended by Hermione's boldness. "Fred's a hero. Like Harry. Like everyone else who selflessly gave their lives tonight."

Voldemort's eyes were crinkled in mild disgust, his mouth hanging open just the slightest bit, like he couldn't believe the female mudblood would actually address him so impudently. "Though all in vain in the end, wasn't it, Miss Granger?" he asked, now masking his annoyance with fake patience and civility. "Those who opposed me are now dead, while I remain victorious. Harry Potter is dead. And so shall be young Weasley." He turned to address the rest of the crowd again as he added in a louder voice, "So shall be everyone who refuses my generous offer."

But clumsy, timid little Neville Longbottom had something to say to that.

He rushed forward, suddenly wielding the great, glittering sword of Gryffindor, passionately shouting his allegiance to Harry, to Dumbledore, to the honor of his mother and father and, with one swift stroke, he removed the head of Voldemort's serpent servant, Nagini.

As Voldemort screamed with rage, Harry Potter sprung to life, jumping from Hagrid's arms amidst a loud clatter of cheers and cries of surprise, and the battle recommenced.

Voldemort completely forgot about me and my punishment, The Dark Lord once more preoccupied with The Boy Who Lived (Again), but Bellatrix Lestrange had eyes for no one but me.

Bit flattering, really, to know that I was so high up on her priority list.

She took off, making straight for me, so I turned and ran into the castle, not out of fear, but in attempt to draw her away from Hermione and George and the rest of my family.

She followed, ignoring and shoving past the people I loved, blind to everything save her determination to finish me off once and for all.

"Crucio!"

Her spell hit me in the back, and the pain forced me to my knees.

She was too confident, however, too certain that my abilities couldn't possibly match hers, and she allowed herself the foolish luxury of laughing, of taking pleasure in my torture.

"When I'm finished with you, I'm going to find the mudblood!" she jeered.

She could have used a killing curse. She could have ended me quickly.

"And then I will move on to your twin! Don't worry, little Freddie, I will tell them you send your love."

But she chose to torture me, to toy with me instead, to drag it out so that she could enjoy herself. And that was the last mistake she ever made.

I was still on the ground, the lingering pain still too fresh, preventing me from rising to my feet, but I rolled over, aching bum now resting on the cold stone floor as I confronted her.

It took five long seconds before she realized that I had blasted the wand from her hand, and the look on her face–the bulging eyes, the mouth still poised in a now-silenced laugh–was absolutely priceless.

"That's for Hermione," I said, breathing heavily and wincing as I forced myself to stand.

Another flash of light burst from my wand, and Bellatrix was frozen solid, everything about her completely still, save for the rapid blinking of her scared eyes.

"That's for George," I said, drawing closer.

One final flick of my wrist, one last flash that struck directly in the center of her black-leather-clad chest, and Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most loyal and deadly lieutenant, cracked and then crumbled, until she was nothing more than a pile of black dust.

I took in a deep breath and breathed it out slowly, at long last breaking free from the chains that I'd allowed her (and all her bloody Death Eater mates) to hold me in for so many months.

"And that's for me."

xx

The school grounds were littered with debris, with fragments of shattered stone and broken glass, and small flames still burned here and there, a testimony to the cruel conflict this place had just seen.

But Voldemort was dead, for good this time, and the few Death Eaters who survived had immediately retreated and disapparated, intent on going into hiding for a good long while, if I had to guess.

The sky seemed to be clearing too, I noticed as George and I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, the grey gloom that had persisted for so many months now beginning to burn off. There was even a little bit of bright blue starting to peek through.

"When we get home," George was saying, casually propping an elbow on my shoulder as we reveled in the chance to stand outside in the broad daylight without the threat of death hanging over our heads, "all I want is a shot of fire-whiskey, and a solid week of uninterrupted sleep in my own bed." He paused for a second before adding, "that and an entire bag of licorice wands. And no, Freddie, I won't share them with you, no matter how much you beg, so don't even try it."

Because it was such a random thing to want after everything we'd just been through, and because George knew I hated licorice, the comment struck me as strangely hilarious.

I laughed, loudly, my shoulders shaking with mirth.

George snorted, amused. "It wasn't that funny. I think you could do with a good week of sleep as well, brother."

But this only made me laugh harder.

I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be light and carefree and truly, unreservedly, happy.

It was a feeling I would never again take for granted.

"What, may I ask, is so funny over here?" came a soft, cheerful voice that immediately caused the smile on my face to widen until my cheeks began to ache. "The two of you huddled together and laughing is rarely a good sign."

I turned to face Hermione, and I basked in the way she was smiling at me, like she had faith again that everything really was going to be alright.

Like she knew now that a long, happy life stretched out ahead of her.

And like she wanted me to be a part of it.

"What do you want, Hermione Granger?" I asked, still grinning.

She regarded me for a moment, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, right now, in this moment," I said. "What do you want more than anything?"

"Oh. Um." She considered this for a moment, and then glanced down at her dirt-and-blood caked clothes. "I just want a bath," she laughed. "And a really strong cup of tea."

"Both excellent choices," I said, nodding.

"Well, yes, I think so," Hermione agreed, still looking a little lost, but still smiling and laughing in spite of it. "Why? What do you want?"

My smile stretched even wider. My face felt like it may very well split in two, but I didn't mind. It'd been too long since I'd smiled like that.

"I want–" I began slowly, taking a step and reaching out to grab her hands. She looked up at me, gazing deeply into my eyes, her own fluttering sweetly as she waited expectantly for me to finish. "I want to have a nap," I said, rather anti-climactically, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the brief look of annoyance that flickered across her face.

Oh, loving Hermione Granger was going to be fun.

I leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose, before pulling back to flash her a wicked, teasing grin. "And then I want to take you on a real date."

The End

XxX

Author's Note: Y'all know I can't kill Fred ;) Those who are long-time readers know that I permanently reside in a happy bubble where FRED IS ALIVE. (No, really. I honestly pretend he didn't die.) That's the only reason I got into writing HP fanfic in the first place, just so that I could write ways for Fred to still be alive :P (And I know many of you feel the same and have asked to live with me in my bubble of denial, so I hope this story gives you another way to believe that Fred survived!)

Now.. I have to say, I don't feel this story is quite as good as what I hope I'm capable of producing (parts of it, anyway. I think it started off strong but I got a bit overwhelmed and distracted along the way) and I offer my sincerest apologies for that. I know I need to improve. But thank you for your continued patience and kind reviews, even when my writing isn't really up to snuff :) I am going to be taking a [short] break while I get on with my anxiety therapy and I hope that my brain will be much more focused when I return! (And I will return. I already have a GeorgeXHermione fic started and I will begin posting it very soon, so be on the lookout for that!)

So please don't forget to favorite and/or follow me if you want to get the email updates when the new story gets posted! Or, if you don't have an account, you can always just keep checking back on my profile :)

While you're waiting for new stories, please feel free to have a look at my profile and check out my other completed HP fics to pass the time if you are interested!

Thank you again for all the follows and favs and especially for the kind reviews that kept me chugging along :) It's so nice to feel like the time and effort put into writing has been appreciated! Of course I enjoy seeing the number of reviews go up on my fics but, more than anything, I just love hearing from you guys. Y'all are an incredibly funny, charming, entertaining, and sweet-hearted group, and I love knowing that there are people like you out there in the real world!

THANK YOU :)

xoxoxox