He couldn't remember. She could tell. He was trying really hard to make his family happy, to recognize something, anything, that would trigger a memory, but it wasn't working. He had memorized all their names again, but it was just that, memorizing. There was no real recognition of what they had once meant to him. She could tell by the lines forming on his forehead that had become a more and more frequent fixture on his face recently. They had all hoped that after leaving St. Mungo's and returning to the Burrow that things would improve. Maybe they would, but it wasn't going to be quick and it wasn't going to be today.

Mrs. Weasley was distraught, of course, causing her husband to finally insist she head upstairs to rest. She watched slowly as the others began to trickle out, whether unable to stay away from their jobs for a minute more or finding it too difficult to continue seeing him this way, she wasn't sure. Even George, his own twin, was leaving, asking her if she would mind sitting with him for a while so he could check on their shop. She agreed immediately. She could see the toll it was taking on him. It was almost as if Fred had died. There was little sign of him in there and it had been several months since the war. Since the wall collapsed around him. She had watched it happen, helpless to do anything to stop it. She had thought he was dead, but by some miracle he was still breathing, his heart still beating. He was unconscious and had a nasty concussion among other injuries, but he was alive. After several weeks in a medically induced coma, he awoke, only to find that he had a severe case of amnesia. The doctors had been hopeful that he would regain all of his memory with time, but as he lay in the hospital bed, his body healing, his mind did not. That was why they had been so hopeful for today. He was finally out of that dreary hospital room and in a familiar environment. The disappointment on his family's faces was understandable, but she could sense his frustration. That was how she, Hermione Granger, had ended up alone with a very grumpy, very confused, Fred Weasley.

"You don't have to babysit me, you know," he said. "I'm a grown man, at least that's what I'm told."

She sighed. She knew how he felt about the doctor's order for someone to stay with him at all times and could sympathize with how demeaning that might feel, but it couldn't be helped. She chose to change the subject.

"What if we went for a walk outside? See the garden or the lake? The gnomes are probably out, but after one bit me this morning I would have no problem flinging him and a few of his closest friends as far away as possible."

Fred looked completely appalled by the idea. "You are doing what to these gnomes? Why would you do that? Are you some kind of sadist? What did you say your name was again? Hermione? Why are you here? You clearly aren't part of the family." He pointed at his trademark Weasley red hair.

"First of all, I am not a sadist. I care much more for other magical creatures than the rest of this lot, but the garden, unfortunately, must be degnomed on a regular basis, if not they would simply take over and ruin everything. Besides, I think they secretly like the tossing. It doesn't actually hurt them. Probably more like a fun amusement park ride."

"An amusement park?" he asked.

"Never mind," she said quickly, "bad example." The last thing she needed to do was get Fred even more confused by adding in muggle terms to his already overwhelmed mind. The idea of him finding degnoming to be cruel was also a new thing, but she supposed it couldn't help the twins to learn a little compassion, so she said nothing more. "So, about that walk?"

"What about why are you here?" he asked again, ignoring her.

She took a deep breath, unsure how to explain her relationship to this family she held so dear. It was complicated, but it worked. She had been worried that her up and down relationship with Ron was going to eventually ruin things, but so far so good. Then she had thought that...no, she wasn't going down that path right now. "Well, I am a good friend of Ron's," she said. "Since first year. He, Harry, and I we kind of come as a package deal. And, of course, Harry is dating Ginny, and they are basically inseparable."

Fred smirked. "Well, I did notice that part. I'm not completely dim-witted. So, Harry and Ginny and you and Ron then?"

"Well, no," she said. Why did everyone automatically think that? "Ron and I are just friends. It would never work, we are better off as friends."

"Well, I suppose that is more information than I know about most of the people around here." He stood up and began walking around examining items in his childhood home with much more scrutiny than before. He studied a photograph of himself with the rest of the family in Egypt before sighing and slamming it down a little too harshly, cracking the glass of the frame. He snorted as he realized the crack went directly across his face. "Seems fitting, I suppose."

For the hundredth time since the war ended she felt a twinge of sadness for Fred's situation. He was lucky to be alive, of course, but seeing him this way, his whole personality so drastically changed and no recollection of how his life was supposed to go was heartbreaking. It brought up the similar thoughts of her parents. She assumed they were somewhere in Australia still, living a life without any knowledge of their only daughter's existence. At least she had provided them with happy memories to keep them safe. Fred had nothing. She could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes and quickly forced herself to regain composure. He had to get his memories back. He had to.

"You'll get your memories back, Fred. It might take time, but the doctors say they almost always come back. We'll just have to continue doing things that might jog your memory."

"Fine. Where do we start?"

"Um, we?"

"Well, you said it first, but you are the only one that seems to be able to be around with me without crying or immediately making some excuse to get away. Will you help me try to remember?"

She thought quickly. She definitely wasn't sure if this was the best idea or not, but she supposed he was right. Someone had to help him and it looked like his family wasn't up to the task.

"Okay, Fred," she said, finally. "I will help you."