The castle and grounds of Hogwarts were a wreck. The towers stood like ruins against the crisp, morning sky. Dew had no time to settle on the bloodstained grass as many feet had previously disturbed its blades. Glass had fallen and shattered from great heights onto the courtyards and the front steps were ashen. Large stones burnt from curses lay tattered around the base of the castle, some continuing to smoke feebly. The trees that lined The Forbidden Forest were also burnt, bent, and snapped, their many branches splintered. In the distance, Hagrid's hut bellowed smoke, it's walls and capped roof black as soot. Tiny embers still sparked in the doorway and the innards of pumpkins splattered the windows from the neighbouring patch. The sight was fit for nightmares, but no bodies were seen anymore. The dead had been moved to The Great Hall, but Argus Filtch remained, broom in hand, to clean up the mess.
"It's going to be a long night, my sweet." Filtch muttered to Mrs. Norris as her beady eyes glaring through the door at those who were not helping her master.
Although hundreds were crammed into The Great Hall, all muttering to each other, some rejoicing with companions, some grieving over their losses, the din hummed like angry bees, buzzing against the eerie silence that lay outside the castle. Neville, Luna, Seamus, and Dean sat huddled in a corner, the sword of Gryffindor still clutched in the former's hands. Luna glanced over at Ginny as she walked towards the hero, Harry Potter, and wrapped one arm around his shoulders in comfort. The shock that the night had brought them still hung in the air, no one knowing whether to mourn the dead or feel thanks for those who remained. This confusion fell especially over one man who sat alone at the base of the, now broken, marble staircase.
Fred Weasley ran a forefinger over one of the cracks lining the bottom step. He had come so close to death, staring hell right in the face, but it passed over him, looming like a dark cloud. True, he was indeed grateful to still be able to feel this confusion and the cracked marble beneath his hands, but that didn't cease his wondering thoughts. He could hear his twin laughing in the distance as he hugged Angelina, their futures open and forever bright. He imagined his mother, tears streaming down her kind face, knowing that the battle was over. There were nine family members and not a single one had seen harm, yet so many friends had died by the hands of Voldemort and his followers.
"Be thankful that you live. Many have died tonight but your soul was spared."
Fred jumped and looked up from the crack his finger had been tracing. It was as though she had known what was on his mind. Hermione smiled and sat down beside Fred, resting her hand on his knee. Fred glowed at her touch, but the moment passed and he hung his head.
"Yes, many have died, but why was I spared? Why did my whole family have to watch others drop in front of us, yet the Weasley's were untouched?" He blinked back tears as he thought of his lost friends, not wanting to show further weakness in front of Hermione.
"I don't think I believe in fate," Hermione said. "But maybe luck wasn't the only reason that you are still here. After all, someone needs to help George with the Skiving Snackboxes."
Fred looked up and stared at his companion curiously. "I thought you didn't approve of my work."
"The world needs encouragement to smile once again, and frankly Peeve's musical renditions just aren't cutting it for me."
Fred grinned at Hermione's joke as he, too, heard the musical chorus of 'Voldy's Gone Mouldy' echoing through the wrecked corridors. It seemed an impossible task to have the school ever be as it once was.
"We'll manage." She squeezed his knee gently and looked out through the open doors, watching as Filtch grumbled as he cleaned the grounds.
"I think we all need a reason to smile right now. Everyone in that room feels pain, some of which will last forever." Fred gestured to the Great Hall.
"Just because one feels pain, doesn't mean they can never smile."
Fred placed his hand over Hermione's and held it gently. "I can think of a reason to smile."
"As can I." she said, turning to face Fred. "Australia calls."
Fred gave her a second quizzical look wondering what Australia had to do with anything.
"I can return my parents' memories and bring them back to England." She stated simply. Fred still didn't understand much of what she had just told him, but he didn't question her and accepted it. Whatever adventures she, his younger brother, and Harry and experienced over the last year he need not pry into. He didn't need to know. On so many occasions he had worried for his brother, hoping against hope that his family would be spared, as it now was. He also worried about Harry, as of course they were friends, but without him, the darkness would never have lifted, for Harry alone could destroy Voldemort, as he mentioned in their enemies final moments. But more than either of those boys, it was Hermione's life which fred had thought most about. he feared to lose her, but understood that she was needed where the other two stepped. They needed her intellect, company, and wise words to guide them on their journey. But Fred has missed seeing her beauty the year that she was gone.
He gazed into her eyes, seeing into their brown depths. "So you're leaving again."
"Yes." She blinked and turned away. "But I don't have to leave right now. Besides, I'd need someone to join me." She watched as George and Angelina strode, hand in hand, out of the Great Hall and through the main doors together. "For the company." She sighed.
Fred watched his brother, too. It was as though the battle had never happened. There were many friends to grieve over, but off walked George and his girlfriend as though this was simply a morning stroll before classes.
"I don't suppose you'd allow me to accompany you, my lady?" Fred winked at hermione and she smiled.
"It would be my great pleasure." She replied, holding her head high and cavalier.
"Then again, I might become quite the distraction."
"Oh?" Hermione could think of several reasons as to how Fred could cause her to become distracted, but she let him explain himself.
Fred handed Hermione, what she presumed was his wand, and took it in her free grasp, slightly nervous. Before she could question his actions, the wand gave a small "Pop" and had turned into a delicate bouquet of four pink roses. She laughed as she held onto his trick wand, grateful that it had not transformed into a snake or something of equal distaste.
"And there are pliantly more of those where that came from." Fred grinned, still holding onto Hermione's free hand.
Still laughing, Hermione said, "I might need a few distractions on my journey, and I could think of no one better than you to provide them."
"And if I were to need a distraction? I hear you have quite the talent when it comes to attacking others with birds."
"Oh, I don't think that skill will be used against you. I have the ability to distract in other ways."
"Oh?"
Hermione leaned forward and pressed her lips against Fred's, her eyes closed and she squeezed his hand tighter. Fred's eyes were wide in shock before he calmed and closed them, deepening the kiss between them and placing his empty hand gently on the back of her head, letting her thick hair glide between his fingers. His signature fireworks seemed to dance inside of him, for Hermione Granger was his inspiration for their creation all those years ago. At long last, they broke apart.
"I quite like that distraction." Fred smiled at her and she smiled back, the tiniest of blushes placed on her cheeks.
"To Australia?"
"To Australia."
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