A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be slightly different from my first fic - darker - but will still be Fred/Hermione centric. As alway please let me know what you think, also leave a rwview on my last fic letting me know if you want an epilogue! Over and out.

Fred could feel the bruises covering his body, could feel every tiny scrape and cut that marred his once perfect skin but it was as though he was floating above it, able to feel but not hurt. He could feel the uncomfortable sensation of bones growing back, stretching and popping into place but it wasn't as painful as the sadness in the room. He was enveloped in grief from all sides, the wailing and crying cutting through the pleasant fog of painkillers and forcing his mind to deal with the very visceral pain of being alive.

A scream threatened to break free from his throat as his eyes shot open, his back arching as his peaceful daydream was truly shattered and every feeling came rushing at him in full, overwhelming his senses. How could he be in this much pain and not be dead?

"Fuck!" He panted, writhing on the makeshift bed, unable to tell who was there or care that they could hear him. His body was on fire and he knew the sobbing people around him were trying to help but he couldn't bring himself to give a shit about that right now. "Just let me die!"

He heard gasps around him, felt more than a few people retreat, wondering why they were wasting their time on someone who didn't want to be saved. He felt the blanket of sorrow lift and sighed in contentment, thinking now they would just leave him alone to face his fate. Thank Merlin for that.

"Grow up, you ungrateful little prat." Came a voice from above. Couldn't they just let him go? He felt cool hands clasping his wrists, holding him in place and heard the muttered words of a long forgotten spell. He felt his pain recede, then everything went black.

George sat next to the bed, holding his twin brothers hand in his own and wishing, not for the first time, that the wall had collapsed on him instead. At least that way he wouldn't be the one watching, waiting for any sign of life. In the two weeks since the final battle had ended, he had become far to acquainted with St Mungos. He sighed and glanced over at the girl on the other side of the bed. If it wasn't for her, Fred would already be dead.

Whilst Fred was pleading to be left alone, he and Hermione had shared a look. Even when everyone else had given up the two of them had stayed, heedless of Fred's words, and forced life back into the broken shell of his body. It was dangerous and it was illegal - while he knew his own motives for the reckless actions, he couldn't help but wonder at hers. Not only in those frantic minutes, casting spell after spell until Fred was breathing and living once more, but in the weeks after when even his family had been hesitant to visit the boy who wanted to die. She had stayed with him as much as George had, no mean feat, and he wondered why.

Hermione looked down at the slowly healing form of Fred. She couldn't believe how much magic could heal. The mischievous boy was still broken and bruised, but at least now she could recognize his features even battered as they were. She had tried, not for the first time, to persuade Ron and Ginny to accompany her today but they had refused, still hurt that Fred had wanted to leave them, even when given the option to stay.

So many people hadn't had that option.

She understood the Weasleys were only being this way because they were hurt but she couldn't help but be frustrated that they were mourning Fred right along with the rest of the fallen, when he was still here.

Fred floated in and out of consciousness, occasionally struggling with his eyelids in a futile attempt to drag them open. He could feel hands in his, one side a mirror image of his own and the other smaller, smoother. He wanted to tell them he was alright and to let them know he knew they were there, waiting patiently as they had been all along.

He kicked and fought, pulling himself out of the murky water of his mind and struggling to the surface.

Finally, his eyelids fluttered and his two guardians watched with bated breath to see what happened next.