Disclaimer: I am definitely not J.K. Rowling. If I were, Fremione would be worth so much more to the world than it is now.

Summary: Hermione Granger. Wasn't she meant to be Ron's girlfriend or something? Weren't they meant to have the fairy-tale ending? She was surely more a sister than a lover, right? That's what Fred Weasley thought before realising five years of his life were erased from his memory – five years of his life that was spent with her.

Say something, I'm giving up on you

I'll be the one, if you want me to

Anywhere I would've followed you

Say something, I'm giving up on you





Yells and shouts and the unmistakeable noises of duelling filled the corridor. Fred backed into the hallway with Percy, both of then duelling masked and hooded men. In the corner of his eye, he could see Harry, Ron and Hermione run towards them to help: jets of light flew in every direction and the man duelling Percy backed off, fast: then his hood slipped and then 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?"

"You're 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 kind of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee. "You are actually are joking ... I don't think I have 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: in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart.

Fred felt every bone in his body break under a large amount of pressure. Pieces of debris were falling on top of him in such a rapid pace, he could barely think before his whole world was crushed into darkness. He felt his lungs struggle to find the air, and his heart pound in fear. As a piece of wall collided with his head, he felt the wound immediately begin to gush with blood, but before he could react to the pain, another chunk of concrete hit him and that was enough for his eyes to roll back into his head.

Just before he surrendered to the darkness, he could hear Percy's voice as a pair of hands gripped his shoulders. "No! Fred! No! Fred! Fr-"

"Fred is in the bloody hospital, again!"

That wasn't Percy's voice. That sounded like a girl's voice. A familiar voice, but a girl's voice nonetheless. And unless Percy's voice suddenly changed dramatically in an instant, that was unmistakably a girl's voice.

"Calm down, will you?"

Now, there was a voice Fred could recognise without a moment's hesitation. He would know George's voice anywhere, even when he had no sight, like this moment for instance. Even now as he struggled to open his eyes, he knew it was his other half. He inwardly smiled as the sensation of relief washed over him. At least he knew his twin was safe.

"I swear, George, this is the last time. One of these days, you're going to kill one of you, and then what's going to happen?"

"Merlin, Hermione, I said I was sorry! I didn't think that the damn thing was going to explode!"

So it was Hermione Granger whom his twin brother was having an argument with. Fred couldn't help but be slightly amused by this, but also a little confused. By the sounds of her frustrated tone, she had seemed to present some genuine concern for his wellbeing. And that was particularly odd, given that she was his little brother's best friend, and they had barely spoken two words to each other within the last year.

"Of course you didn't!" came her reply. "You don't think about anything besides that damn joke shop!"

Of course, the joke shop. Their home, their dream, their passion. They lived for that joke shop. They had poured their hearts and souls for years into their beloved joke shop. It didn't surprise Fred in the slightest that George would be putting their joke shop above all else. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was everything to them at this point. But what did that have to do with anything?

"Hey, you've known for years that this is what we do. It was one little accident!"

"A little accident?! He could've died, George! You could've blown his fucking head off."

Wow, Fred had never heard Hermione Granger swear before. He smirked to himself, he'd never would've picked her to be the type to curse. Even with the constant threats of writing back home to their mother, he never thought one of them would push her so far that she'd curse at them. Perhaps he had underestimated the innocent bookworm.

"Hermione, you need to calm down. The healers said he'll be alright when he wakes up-"

"And they said that he's lucky to be alive! That's it, George! I've had it up to here with you and your bloody pranks."

"Perhaps you should talk to Fred about this when he wakes up. I don't think he's going to agree with you."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make him see it my way."

What on earth did she mean by that? Was she going to threaten him with a letter to their mother? Because that wasn't going to do anything. They weren't even living at the Burrow any more, that threat had lost all its appeal. Well… maybe not completely. Their mother would still find them even if they fled to Bulgaria.

His eyes finally allowed themselves to open, and he saw a world that was far too blurry. He blinked a few times to try and clear the cloudiness in his vision. His head was painfully pounding, probably a result from the crushing of debris. He winced as a sharp pain pierced his mind, causing him to close his again to brace it. Once the wave of pain subsided, he allowed his eyes to open again.

He took in the space around him. From the way his hospital bed was set up, he could see two people at the foot of the bed arguing with each other. Even before his vision cleared up, he knew exactly who they were based on the conversation he was listening to earlier. Hermione seemed all about two seconds away from whipping out her wand and casting a jinx down George's throat. George seemed to be as equally frustrated with her, except his style would've required a huge prank and whatever was left of Hermione's dignity.

George ran a hand through his hair. "Don't you think you're being a little unreasonable, Hermione? Don't you think that-?"

"Fred!" Hermione squeaked, noticing his awake state. Her anger quickly melted away as her eyes met his. Even George's armour began to crack and he gave a sigh of relief as he noticed his twin's consciousness.

Hermione was the first to move, rushing over and throwing her arms around him. "Oh my Lord, I was so worried."

"I can see that," he croaked, wrinkling his nose as her bushy hair tickled it. She pulled back and gave him a beaming smile. "It's nice to see you too."

"Stop it," she teased, giving him a kiss on his nose. Fred blinked at her in surprise. That was a new development.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione. Let the man breathe," George's voice came from his right. Fred turned his head to see his brother grinning widely at him, before also enveloping him in a hug. "You gave us a right good scare there, mate."

Fred's hand reached up to his pounding head, only to find it heavily wrapped in gauze. Maybe that brick hit him harder than he realised. The quick sting returned and he winced again, causing the two of them to react. He dismissed them both with a wave of his other hand.

"Should I grab a healer?" George asked him.

"No, it's alright," Fred answered with a sigh, as the pain subsided again. He looked over to his twin and noticed that his hair had grown out a little, obviously in an effort to cover the gaping dark hole that he had instead of an ear. When did he manage to do that? He said the hole didn't bother him, but surely there wasn't enough time for him to have grown out his hair this quickly. He frowned as he examined his brother again, and noticed that he seemed to be uninjured from the war. Not a scratch or bruise on him, and for that he was thankful. In fact, he looked as if he were in perfect health.

His gaze shifted to the bushy-haired witch standing on his other side.

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the light, he noticed that Hermione looked a little older. She was no longer a kid, but now a full-grown woman, standing before him. Merlin, the war must've changed her. She grew up in so many more ways that he could've imagined, and honestly, it had shown a little in her mature stance. She, too, seemed to be at the peak of her health. Any horrors from the war were not present in her exterior. Her brown eyes regarded him warmly, a bright smile on her face as she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He stared at her in confusion, feeling a bit uncomfortable about her small hand wrapped around his.

"How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?" she asked, her head tilting questioningly.

"Aside from the headache, I feel fine," he admitted with a frown. "A bit drowsy maybe."

"That'd be the pain potions," George supplied from his other side. "Honestly, I wasn't excepting you to wake up this soon. Normally you're out for a few more hours when they give you them."

Fred looked to his brother in confusion. This is not the first time he'd been injured, but he hadn't been knocked out completely since he took a bludger to the head in his second year. Surely George didn't remember how long he was unconscious for when they were twelve, he sure as hell didn't.

The hand wrapped around his gave another small squeeze, and Fred suddenly found himself staring into chocolate coloured eyes.

"Do you need me to fetch you some water?" her soft voice asked.

Suddenly, Fred became aware of how thirsty he actually was. He didn't even have a chance to respond before Hermione's hand let go of his to reach for the jug of water that was sitting on the bedside table. After pouring him a glass, she brought the glass to his lips and began to let the cool water slip into his mouth. He was not prepared for her to be bringing water to him in such a fashion, and as a result of his surprise, he choked and spluttered the water. Hermione withdrew instantly, obviously alarmed.

"Oh Fred," she said. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Fred managed to choke out, as George gave him a good thump on his back. "Thanks anyways."

His mind tingled underneath the bandage, Fred began to wonder how deep the wound really was. He stretched out his jaw, feeling it cramp slightly, most likely another result of the falling wall. He stared down at his body, and noticed that they remained intact. That was a definite bonus. He was sure that wall had crushed bones, as well as his lungs and head, but he felt fortunate that his splitting headache was the only evident problem with him.

Hermione put the glass back on the bedside table. Her hand found its way to Fred's once again, and he frowned at the touch.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Me? I'm fine. You just stress me out sometimes. I'm surprised you two haven't caused me to go prematurely grey."

"I doubt that," George interjected. "You're still as lovely as ever, Hermione dear."

"Suck up," she playfully returned, poking her tongue out at him, clearly over their earlier argument.

Fred looked from one to the other. There was something going on between them that he was not aware of. Had they struck up a romance of sorts? No. That was ludicrous even to think of. George was mad for Katie, even if she didn't quite see eye-to-eye on everything with him. Besides, Hermione wasn't George's type. She was better suited for someone more intellectual. Mentally-stimulating. Though, perhaps he was overthinking that because he knew his baby brother had a crush on the bushy-haired bookworm. No, that wouldn't work either, despite Ron's efforts. They would be at each other's throats day and night, and Hermione would've been bored, that was for sure.

"Where's mum and dad?" Fred asked, interrupting the eye contact between George and Hermione.

George spoke up. "Err... I sent them home. Once you were given the all clear, I figured they didn't have to sit around and wait all over again." There was that word. Again. Like that this was all routine. Perhaps it was. Given the amount of people at the battle, let alone the amount of Weasleys there were, it could've gotten all too familiar for everyone else.

Fred turned his attention to Hermione. "So… what's new, Granger?"

Hermione blinked at him in surprise, the smile disappearing from her face. There was a moment's pause and Fred could see the cogs working in her head. She gave him a look that was crossed between surprise and confusion. "What did you just call me?"

He felt George stiffen beside him. He turned his head to see that his brother was looking at him with the same look as Hermione's.

"Your name?" Fred responded in confusion. She stared at him for a moment, and then frowned, before exchanging a worrying look with George.

"Granger?" George echoed, his eyes returning back to meet Fred's. "You haven't called Hermione, "Granger", in years. Are you sure you're alright, mate?"

Years? What on earth was he on about? Sure, he hadn't seen the bushy haired witch in a while, but years? How long was he asleep for?

"I'm going to get the healer," Hermione told them both, a profound frown on her lips. George nodded in her direction, and the two redheads watched her leave the room mumbling something incoherent under her breath.

George's gaze turned back to the twin in the hospital bed. "Granger?" he repeated again.

Fred frowned at his brother. "What's wrong with calling her "Granger"? We called her that almost our entire years at Hogwarts."

"That was Hogwarts though, when we were young and… well, idiots."

"We're still young, George," Fred admonished. They were only twenty after all, hardly an age of real maturity.

"Yes but… why?" George stared at him, searching his face for something. "Why are you calling Hermione, "Granger"?"

"Why are you so insistent on calling her "Hermione"?"

George's eyes widened for a moment. "What's wrong with you?"

"What in Merlin's pants are you on about?"

The door suddenly swung open, and a young healer dressed in green robes entered the room with a worrying Hermione hot on his heels. The healer approached the hospital bed that Fred was lying on and grabbed the clipboard that was attached to the end of the bed. Fred saw George take a few steps back to give the healer some room and then whisper something in Hermione's ear behind his head, which caused her to gape at him in surprise.

Before Fred could open his mouth to ask what was said, the healer cleared his throat.

"Mr. Weasley," the healer said causally, his eyes never leaving the clipboard he was holding. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Fred answered.

"No pain?"

Fred shook his head. The healer conjured up a quill out of thin air and began scribbling notes down on the clipboard.

"Any nausea?"

Again, Fred shook his head.


"Just a small one," Fred admitted. "But I guess that's not too bad given that a wall fell on me."

The healer stopped writing, and his head shot up from his notes. "A wall?" Suddenly the healer was looking as worried as Hermione and George, and Fred had a feeling that there was something more wrong with him than just a heavily sore head.

"Yes, a wall. There was a blast, and a wall collapsed on top of me. I couldn't get out of the way fast enough, that's why I'm here, right?"

The healer put down the clipboard and pulled out his wand without saying a word. He immediately began waving his wand in several different jerking motions, running several different diagnostic spells over him. Fred watched him in confusion, unsure whether or not he should be concerned, but the thick tension he felt from the people in the room suggested that he should be concerned.

"Mr. Weasley," the healer's voice penetrated his musings. "Could you tell me the last thing you remember?"

Fred's face scrunched up in concentration. "I was… standing in a corridor… at Hogwarts… and we, that is, Percy and I, were battling Death Eaters. And then there was a blast, and the wall just collapsed, and I guess I was caught under it." There was a gasp and Fred suddenly became aware that all three of them were watching him with intense looks. Hermione had both of her hands covering her mouth, most likely to suppress any more gasps that may come out. George was staring at him with wide blue eyes, suddenly looking ghostly pale underneath his freckles. The healer was still waving his wand over Fred's body, muttering spells under his breath, with a look of determination on his face.

"I believe Mr. Weasley has suffered some memory loss," the healer addressed the pair standing at the end of Fred's bed. "To what extent, I'm not sure, but we'll run some tests and keep you informed."

Memory loss? How on earth would he know if he had some memory loss? He remembered that corridor so vividly, it can't have been long ago.

"Mr Weasley," the healer spoke to him. "Do try and get some rest. I'll send someone to give you a potion for the headache." And with that, he collected the clipboard once again and left the room. The remaining occupants of the room stared at him with attentiveness. Hermione nudged George and whispered something inaudible in his one ear. George in turn began to whisper something furiously back, only he had not been as quiet as Hermione and Fred managed to pick up the words "we don't know that yet."

Fred was on the verge of asking them what the problem was when George cleared his throat.

"Fred…" George said cautiously. "What year is it?"

"It's 1998. The month of May, if I recall correctly." Hermione's face crumpled up the moment he said the year, and he didn't pretend that he didn't hear George's slight hitch in breath. "What? Was that not right?"

"Fred," George said, twisting his hands nervously. "It's 2003."

"2003?" Fred repeated incredulously.

He thought hard about what was being said. It couldn't be 2003, it couldn't be five years into the future. There's no way that could've happened. He wracked his brain for the any indication of a memory past the battle, but it still was the last thing he remembered before waking up in St. Mungo's to George and Hermione's bickering. Fred couldn't believe that there could've been a large chunk of his memory gone from existence... unless…

"Oh I get it now," Fred said, chuckling a little. "Nice try, George. You had me for a second there. And kudos to you, Hermione. Would've never picked you to volunteer for a prank like this."

Neither of the two laughed, but instead stared at him with concern and worry. "This isn't a prank, Forge," George said grimly. "It's not 1998. It's 2003."

George's face was deadpanned as he repeated his words slowly. Fred's eyes widened with horror as he realised that his twin was actually serious. 2003? That was five years of his life, just gone in an instant. What had happened? What had changed? Had they even won the war? Did he and George still live together? Was he and Angelina still in a relationship? There were so many questions to be answered, but the main one that sprung to Fred's mind was…

"How can it be 2003?" Fred said with a frown. "We were just battling at Hogwarts… wait, are you telling me that I've been asleep for five years?"

"Oh my Lord," Hermione muttered, putting her hand over her mouth and looking very close to tears.

"Hermione…" George's voice wavered, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder but she just shrugged it off. "Hermione, please…"

She slinked away from his touch when he tried to console her again. Tears began spilling from her eyes, as she cried, "Leave me alone, George!" before turning on her heel and running out of the room. George watched her leave anxiously, and let out a loud sigh. Fred glanced at his twin curiously, unable to comprehend why his brother was so concerned over Hermione. George looked like he was close to tears too as he tore his gaze away from the door that Hermione had just disappeared through.

"What's got her wand in a knot?" Fred asked his twin.

George's head whipped around so fast to give Fred a murderous glare. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"What?" Fred raised his hands uselessly. He thought about the playfulness they had briefly, how comfortable they were around each other. Perhaps… "Are you in love with her?"

George stared at him wide-eyed. "Merlin, of course not. I mean...I love her, I'm not in love with her."

"Then what? Am I supposed to understand that Hermione and I are somewhat friends now?"

George tilted his head to the skies and let out a low, hollow laugh. He took a deep breath and shook his head at the younger twin.

"Fred, she's your wife."

A/N: So this was only a rough start to the story. I wasn't planning on it actually happening, but I don't know… once I started, I felt obligated to continue.

I promise, chapters in the future will be better and a tad bit longer. I'm not thrilled with the length, but I didn't know how to stretch it out any more than it was. I guess it's not too bad for a starter… right? Right?

Anyways, I'm not sure how this story idea came about, but I kind of like that it's Fred who loses his memory, compared to Hermione, since it is normally the female main who can't recall, especially in these types of stories. I think that's what kept me with it. I have some interesting memories to nudge Fred in the right direction, but nothing is set in stone yet. But I'm sure that will change with time.

So how do you all think of it? I know, I know… I should be updating Broken but you now know why I haven't yet. Don't worry, I haven't given up on it. I'm going to dare to write the both at the same time. Wish me luck with that one.

So send me love and reviews. Flames if it does suck, but be nice about it.

Infinite X's and O's,
Creative Touch