"Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people."

The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

"Where is everyone?" whispered Hermione.

Ron led the way to the Great Hall. Harry stopped in the doorway.

The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to stand.

The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. A flicker of orange hair atop a body could be seen, but Hermione struggled to make out who lay there as his family surrounded him. She noticed Ginny was kneeling at his head; Mrs. Weasley was lying across the still chest, her body shaking whilst Mr. Weasley stroking her hair while tears cascaded down his cheeks.

Without a word to Hermione, Ron and Harry walked away. She watched as Harry approached Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy, and hug her. Ron joined Bill, Fleur, and Percy, who flung an arm around Ron's shoulders. Still, she did not move. That meant that one of three Weasley's lay dead upon the cold stone floor. As Ginny and Harry stepped away from the family, Hermione had a clear view of the body that lay motionless.

Her heart broke.

Fred Weasley, lay pale and still beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.

The Great Hall seemed to fly away, become smaller, shrink, as she reeled backward from the doorway. She could not draw a breath. Her eyes ran over the lifeless form of the joyful and jovial twin and watched as his counterpart crumbled to the floor beside him with the most heart wrenching sound she had ever heard. She leapt forward and hurried to the weeping twin and rested a delicate hand upon his back. Closer, she now saw that Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh was still etched upon his face. Mr Weasley lifted his wife who wept in despair from the floor as the oldest Weasley rushed forward to help. Her eyes glanced up to see Ron who held Percy shoulder tightly as he too sobbed, his face ridden with guilt. Hermione knelt beside Fred and gently ran her fingers through his matted hair as George reached for his cold hand. It was then that she took her chance, as everyone fell victim to the sorrow and pain that the loss brought with it, she gently lowered her lips to his.

On return to the Burrow, her home for the foreseeable future, she found the walls were tainted with memories of their brief exchanges. She'd spend days catering to the Weasley family alongside Harry, her own grief tucked away. At night, she would wait for the grieving occupants to fall into restless sleep before making her way to sit upon the roof where they shared her darkest secret and their sixth kiss if she recalled correctly.

It was on the tenth day that George knocked upon her shared room. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes heavy and, most noticeably, his smile was lacking. He said nothing, but a flicker of understanding passed over his features. He carefully handed her a stack of worn envelopes and it took just a moment to recognise her own handwriting adorning them. Her letters. His letters. Her eyes fluttered closed as tears fell silently. George, entrapped in his own world of unique pain, placed a simple comforting hand to her shoulder before departing. After rifling through her charmed bag she had found the letters she too had saved before sitting amongst the three hundred and seventy eight letters. She had spent days carefully exploring every word of every letter as if she hadn't done so before. She read as the love story of two young teenagers blossomed in ink upon parchment before her very eyes.

On the nineteenth day, she had returned to Hogwarts. Restless, she had volunteered to help with the restorations and it was the first day of many to come. As she had made her way to the great hall to meet with the other volunteers, the corridor she found herself walking through took her by surprise. Her hands trailed over the stone walls and she found herself quietly humming the melody of their first dance, her body swaying slightly.

Throughout her days of volunteering, she found herself seeking out their places. She had returned to the worn out settee of the Gryffindor common room and recalled the pride on his face as he'd shared his experimental products. The room of requirement took a week to find, but eventually she stepped through the temporary door to find the old desk and bar stools they had sat upon. 'Our room' he had once called it. Finally, she had faced her fear atop the astronomy tower and recalled the promise they had made, one she had found they'd now broken.

It was on the thirtieth day that she ventured into the place she dreaded most. As George cut the ribbon on the new and improved Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, albeit with a forced smile, she had found herself expecting his counterpart to suddenly jump to his side. She had stood and listened as the remaining Weasley twin explained that this is what the world needed right now, it's what he needed and most importantly what Fred would have wanted. She couldn't help but join in with the others' cheers at the sentiment. It was easier than expected, walking through the door to the noisy and rambunctious store. She feared seeing him in every aisle but instead found herself enjoying the storm of memories that flooded her on seeing the bright and trouble making products.

As days ebbed mercilessly in to months and eventually years, Hermione's pain slowly became a longing ache.

She had watched happily as George settled into family life with Angelina and was overjoyed at the birth of Fred II. The growing boy had a big smile and an even larger personality, one his namesake would have been proud of.

Soon, she too moved on with her life. Her heart had been patched up and somewhat mended by her now husband. Though she had longed for a simple life after the war, she instead had found herself falling for him. Spontaneous and enthusiastic, he had swept her off her feet with a winning smile. Those early days were filled with unforeseen and unexpected moments of bliss and now, married, she still found herself giddy when she was dragged along on another adventure. The adventures of two eventually became the smaller adventures of three as their family grew with the addition of their daughter.

She was happy, truly she was, and it was during the wildest adventures that her mind often drifted to thoughts of a tall, smiling boy with dreams of grandeur. She could never forget one Fred Weasley and those ten wonderful kisses.

A.N: I know - I'm awful! Unfortunately, this is how I'd always intended for this story to end. In fact this ending is what started this whole tale. As always thank you so much for your support throughout this. I'd love to hear what you think of the final piece too, so please do let me know!

I do have an alternative ending also but am unsure whether to upload or not, let me know in the comments if you'd like to see it. If not, until next time!

Disclaimer: some of this text has been directly used from the Deathly Hallows.