18 months ago:

Harry looked around and his heart seemed to fail: Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts. Fred and Percy had just backed int view, both of them dueling masked and hooded men.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ran forwards to help: jets of light flew in every direction and the man dueling Percy backed off, fast: then his hood slipped and they saw a high forehead and streaked hair -

"Hello Minister!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"Your joking, Perce!" shouted Fred, as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him: he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.

"You actually are joking, Perce ... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were -"

The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured: and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed, temporarily, at bay, the world was rent apart. Harry felt himself flying through the air, and all he could do was hold on tightly as possible to that thin stick of wood that was his one and only weapon, n shield is head in his arms: he heard the screams and yells of his companions without a hope of knowing what had happened to them -

And then the world was resolved itself into pain and semi-darkness: h was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had been subjected to a terrible attack: cold air told him that the side of the castle had been blown away and the stickiness on his cheek told him that he was bleeding copiously. Then he herd terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying and more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than he had been in his life ...

And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three red-headed men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

"No - no - no!" someone was yelling. "No! Fred! No!"

And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

A Few Hours after the battle:

Madame Pomfrey, who had been examining Fred's body, walked over to the heartbroken Weasley family. She looked at each and every one of them, then looked back to Fred's twin, George. Her face was sad but there was a twinkle of hope as she said, "Fred is not dead, Mr. Weasley, merely in a coma,"

George looked at her, the hope in her eyes now reflected in his red and swollen ones. "Really? What do we have to do?" he asked

"Get him to St. Mungo's as quickly as you can, they may be able to tell you how long he may be in the coma and if he will survive," she gave a little smile, the atmosphere wasn't the type you could smile in. "I have others to look at, I will let the hospital know you are coming,"