NOTE TO READERS - I plan to make this as real to the books, and to typical British life as I can. There will be swears and sexual content eventually, although not as idealised as it may be in some other fanfiction. I want to take a more realist approach.

Enjoy!

HERMIONE'S P-O-V

I laid there. I kept my breathing slow as to not disturb Ronald; whose head rested on my stomach. He was exhausted from the many differing emotions he had been through throughtout today. I was just glad that he managed to drift off at all.

If you weren't there at the time, it was difficult to imagine how it felt; I find that it is also rather difficult to explain.

The 2nd of May 1998.

The Battle Of Hogwarts.

The end of Second Wizarding War.

The downfall of the Dark Lord.

It was clear that this day would go down in history as one of the greatest triumphs of Wizard kind. However, how would the families who lost their loved ones ever cope? How could we cope, what with the losses we had suffered? Will each of the deceased be remembered in the history books for what they were, as heroes?

The Weasleys, a close knit family who lost one of their own, were of course all deeply distraught. But most troubled of all was George. How could he cope without his twin brother? His partner in crime. His best friend.

Little Teddy Lupin, his whole future ahead of him without a mother or father, but with the prospect of a new, safer world in which he never need fear; thanks in part to the sacrifice of his parents.

Many other families were broken and many more killed in the battle; people who had their whole lives ahead of them, who knows what they could have accomplished? Where would their lives have taken them if they had not been prematurely taken from them? One didn't know whether to celebrate the victory, to comfort the survivors or to mourn the losses; it was an impossible feeling.

We returned to the Burrow together. We were all family now, in as strange sort of way; we had all gone through it together. Ron and I, Harry, Fleur and the rest of the Weasley family who had made it out alive. Andromeda also came to The Burrow that night with her little grandson Teddy; she felt it best that she wasn't left alone that night after the death of her daughter. Percy gracefully offered up his room for the two of them to sleep in.

Harry had stayed up with Ginny all night, which of course he was more than happy to do. Since he had gotten all the sleep he would need earlier on today at Hogwarts, it was the least that he could do. Although, of course, his sleep was well deserved after the events of the last two days. I could hear the muffled sounds of them talking below for hours, although I couldn't really make out what it was they were saying.

Ginny was finding it difficult. She spent the whole day yesterday comforting her mother while the others helped to move the bodies. It distracted her from the fact that she couldn't bring herself to cry. She felt guilty because of her lack of emotion, but Harry and I tried to assure it was just the way that some people dealt with death. However, no matter how many times Harry repeated this, she still felt that she should be feeling more.

As I passed her room on the way to the kitchen to get a glass of water for Ron and I earlier on that night, I heard her say "Fred would be ashamed of me Harry, I know he would."

George was inconsolable. He spent the night downstairs with his mother, father, Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Percy. They all tried to stay strong and sat with him around the fire until morning. He was so distressed that it was making him ill, I could hear him wailing out Fred's name and retching all throughout the night.

I laid with Ron that night in his single bed, tucked tight under his Chudley Cannon bedsheets. They were hand made by Molly several Christmases ago. She had knitted Fred and George matching bobble hats that year; they thought they were the most disgusting things they had ever laid their eyes on, and that they would be better suited as dishcloths. Who would ever had guessed it would end like this back then?

I felt helpless; I wanted to make it all go away so that he would smile his wonderful smile again but all I could do was hold him as he cried. It hit him hard when we returned home in the late evening yesterday with Freds body. I rocked him side to side like a mother would cradle her child as he shook in my arms, sobbing. I cared so much for Ron, and I couldn't bear to see him like that.

The sun soon rose; the night passed swiftly unlike all those sleepless nights spent in the tent. The nights after Ron left felt like they would never end. I found that I hadn't even dozed off for a moment, yet I still felt as alert as a hawk. Ron stirred and mumbled something about curtains under his breath. I couldn't stifle a small giggle, which woke him up fully. I was so glad he was awake, I didn't need to dwell on my thoughts any longer. He lifted his head from my chest, revealing the tear soaked button-up pajama top of his that he'd lent me to sleep in. I looked into his eyes. They were red, bloodshot, swollen. Cuts, dirt and bruises were still very much visible all over his face.

"'Mione," he said softly. I nodded. "Promise me you won't tell Harry what a state I was in."

"Don't be ridiculous Ronald," I replied in a whisper, with a smile. "He wouldn't blame you for it anyway!"

"I'd be lost if anything happened to you." He cracked a slight smile as his ears turned slightly pink, a smile meant a lot at a time like this. He lowered his head back onto my chest and sighed.

We could just keep that moment, for a while. The moment I had waited for so long to enjoy, until we were forced to return to the reality of the broken family, but a brand new world, which dwelled down the staircase beneath us.

"Thank you, Ron."

RON'S P-O-V

It was hard to breathe, think or even see at that point. My eyes felt like they'd been filled with bits of broken glass and prickled with pain at each blink, like you get when you go swimming for too long without goggles on. I felt Hermione's chest rise and fall with each intake of breath. That meant she was still here, still breathing. Here, with her, I could forget that Fred would never breathe again, just for now. I was still as sad as ever, but I don't think I could have cried any more if I had tried.

I felt like I was being punched in the stomach each time I heard George yell out downstairs. The sort of feeling you get when you fall and your heart seems to skip a beat.

Shit, there he goes again.

I tried my hardest to work up the courage to go down there and see if there was anything I could do, but I just couldn't. I was hurting too. I felt as if I was glued to my bed, glued to her, and I was actually kind of glad. That sounds awful, but I was. It was warm here, and I had Hermione. It was quiet for a long time, calm. I was glad we didn't really speak about the kiss...

"Ron?"

"Bloody hell!" I jumped at the sudden sound of her voice, and wondered if she could read my mind.

Well, she is brilliant, she could probably do anything if she tried hard enough.

Then I remembered her dislike for Divination classes and felt a bit less worried. She let out a small, quiet laugh at my slight over-reaction.

"I think we should go talk to Ginny, we might be able to help Harry calm her down a little, now you've got your sleep," she whispered, nodding her head towards the door. I silently agreed.

I was still wearing dirty blood stained clothes. I hoped it was only my blood. I couldn't bear to think... couldn't bring myself to change, what was the point? Hermione however looked at me awkwardly as she reached over to the pile of her clothes which lay beside my bed (neatly folded of course, that's Hermione.) She had changed last night in the dark so I wasn't quite sure what to do. Was it ok for me to watch, was that weird? Should I leave? She might just have been in here with me as a friendly gesture. Do friends let friends lay on them like that?

Maybe the kiss was just a...a heat of the moment kind of thing? Oh bollocks...

She hadn't even spoken about the kiss since, I was happy about this at first but now the thought of it gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I wasn't sure where I stood with Hermione anymore. I laughed and tried to look less flustered about the whole thing and turned away to face the door. This was a good idea as I could feel my cheeks and my ears burning as blood rushed to them. This was all very embarrassing. I heard her unbuttoning my pajama shirt and throwing it down on the bed.

Who knew she could still look that lovely in my scabby old clothes?

A sudden realization rushed over me. Hermione Granger was naked... in my bedroom... I mean she was behind me... and she was naked. Well, not fully naked, but as good as!

I had a dream that went like this once, but I certainly wasn't just stood there like a lemon staring at the door!

I noticed I was getting a little too excited and hummed quietly to myself in an attempt to forget what was going on only inches behind my back.

"Right...er..." Hermione mumbled before she let out an uncomfortable chuckle, "Shall we?" She motioned towards the door and I swiftly exited with her following close behind me.

As we both made our way down the stairs, we passed Fred and George's old room. I could smell a faint trace of gun powder and some other strong smelling foul odor, clearly from some sort of stink bomb they were testing out for the shop before they left. I was used to this, although in the past year away I've sort of missed it. Odd. What would happen to Wheezes now? God knows. All I know is George can't waste all that hard work and effort, Fred wouldn't want that. But it was alright, we didn't need to think about stuff such as that yet.

We have the funeral first... well... funerals. Bloody hell.

I became aware that I was stood motionless in front of the door of their bedroom without even giving my feet the permission to stop. Hermione reached down and squeezed my hand.

"D...do you want to go in?" She whispered, her voice wavering a little. I shook my head, probably to her relief.

He was in there.

Mum and Dad thought it best we brought him home, just for today. It wasn't really him though, not anymore, was it? She lead me by the hand down the rest of the steps to Ginnys room. On the way there I managed to glance at my brother as we passed by, George's face broke my heart. Pale, almost grey tinted skin. Blank, staring, lifeless eyes. He was lost without Fred. Half dead on the inside.

This is my first ever fic, so please give me a review so I can work on my writing skills. Please? Tell me what you liked about it, what you didn't like about it. I'll try and update as soon as possible, probably within the next few days so keep following as Chapter 2 will be here soon!

Thanks to Taryn (.com) for the help!