Chapter 2

Another Sleepless Mourning

It was a beautiful afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky. His family sat on one side of him and Hermione and Harry on the other. He reached down and picked up a thick wooden stick that was in the grass. He pulled out a small knife, and began very thinly peeling away the layers, bit by tiny bit, anything to avoid looking at the big cement box that held his brother's body.

It has been agreed that Fred wouldn't want the traditional cry fest, so the family had asked that everyone share their favorite funny memory of Fred. And for a funeral it had been pretty light hearted so far. Some of the stories made him laugh out loud. But others… he could barely hold it together, and if he could just focus on this damn stick…it would somehow hold him together.

George had his turn. Too soon it was Ron's. Ron, who hated public speaking, and his face was beet red, and he was sweating. A lot. But he would do it… for Fred.

"I've been racking my brain trying to think of the perfect Fred story. But I couldn't. So I came up with this instead. Life is short. If there is something you haven't said or done…do it. Do it today. There is no guaranty of tomorrow." He looked at his brother's coffin. "I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say that more when you were alive."

He went and sat back down, big silent tears pouring down his face. And when everyone left, and it was just his family and Harry and Hermione, he hung his head and cried.

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When they got back to the Burrow, he took Hermione's hand, and led her to his room.

"I have something I need to say." He held both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. He found after the pain of his brother's passing, that this wasn't hard at all, and the words came easier than he thought they would. "I love you. You are all I have ever wanted. I just wanted to say that before one more minute passed."

Then he kissed her just like he'd always dreamed of. And she was whispering, "I love you too," against his lips.

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The Burrow was overflowing with family and friends. Food was laid out on every surface that was flat. Then someone suggested they do a round of shots for Fred. Which led to a round for Remus, and then Tonks, and Snape…the list just kept going.

Hermione sat by Ron's side; they laughed and cried and argued. As the night grew on, their friends began to dwindle, and soon, it was just the two of them. Ron gathered her in his arms and held her tight. And when he kissed her, he knew just how precious this woman was. His hands framing her face, his thumbs danced lightly on her cheeks. He was glad that the drinks made the next question easier. "Do you want to go upstairs with me?"

She nodded.

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He woke with that same feeling you have when someone dies. For a second, he completely forgot. For a second his mind was so blown that a naked Hermione was in his bed, in his arms. Then… "MY BROTHER IS DEAD!" Like a cement brick lying on his chest, it was physically difficult to breathe. Good luck getting back to sleep after that.

There was a robe and a chair. He found his knife and his stick. He whittled away for a good hour or so. He found he could spend hours watching Hermione sleep. 'She looks really good wearing your shirt,' he thinks. He can't believe how many nights they slept together in the same room, so close yet so far away. Sleeping in the same bed was so much better. And for the first time in what seems a very long time, he thinks, 'We are going to be okay.'

His eyes just started to get heavy. He was just about to slip back into bed, when he heard it. Downstairs. His mum was crying. His silently dressed and slipped downstairs. His mother's head was on the table, and she was sobbing uncontrollably. He sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, and let her cry it out.

Soon the tears were gone; she just stared off into space. Then she turned, smiled sadly, and patted his face and whispered, "I love you, Son."

"I love you too, Mum. Go get some sleep." She gave him a look that told him that was highly unlikely.

He glanced at the clock. It was 4 am. He'd go outside for awhile, maybe stretch his legs.

He closed the door behind him, and walked over to the bench in the front yard. She was there with a cup of tea and handed it to him. Like a couple many years their senior. He had no idea how or when she got down here. He smiled his thanks and sat down beside her.

They just sat in comforting silence, drinking and staring at the stars. He didn't know how long they had been there when he broke the silence…

"I made you something." He reached deep into his pocket, and then dropped something into her hand. It was small: 3 or 4 inches, wooden, thin, and had had a triangular arrow shape.

Surprised, she smiled, "What it this?" running her thumb over the grain of the wood.

"I've been told it's a muggle toy. An Australian toy."

"A boomerang?" her eyebrows dipped questioningly? Ah, now she recognized the shape. "You made this for me?"

"Yeah. Well. Hermione, look," he paused to find the perfect words. "These past few days…you stood by me and my family, and you never complained, never said a sour word. And I …just want you to know how much I appreciate it. How very much I really appreciate it." His eyes filled with tears and his voice was thick with emotion. "You think know how thankful I am… but…you don't. You have no idea. So again…thank you." He sniffed and wiped his nose. "Anyway, this is just my way of saying… just…just hang in there… a couple more days. I promise you… we will go and find them."

And then Hermione was crying. She threw her arms around him. Maybe she'd been so strong for Ron, she had forgotten to grieve herself. Maybe she hadn't gotten to express how worried she really was about her parents. And maybe Ron's heartfelt handmade gift just pushed her right over the edge. For the second time that night, Ron was the strong one and just let her cry it out. Tears streamed down her face, her nose kept running, and it took her a while, before her breathing returned to normal.

After awhile, he changed the subject, "So, how does this thing work?" He took the tiny boomerang into his hand.

She cleared her throat and smiled. "You throw them, and they come back."

He looked at her like she had lost her mind. He started to raise the wooden toy and brought it over his shoulder to throw it…

"No! Don't throw this one! This one won't work! "

She grabbed it out of his hand and had it pressed against her heart. Poor Ron! She can't help but laugh. Bitter sweet laughter through tears.

"Well, how do they work without magic?" he still wanted to know.

She put her head on his shoulder, "I'll show you. When we are in Australia, I'll show you how a real one works."

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Author's Notes- I never thought I'd write a second chapter to this. I loved how poetic the title was and how it matched the story…I just couldn't see another chapter that didn't mess that up! Until a few days ago…I hope this chapter does the story justice. BTW I totally ripped off, I mean borrowed, the actions that happened at the funeral, from a Friends fanfic. I cannot remember which one. That idea helped inspire this…so hope you liked it.