AN- Hello everyone! I know you all probably thought this fic had trailed off into nothingness, but it hasn't! I have ANOTHER edited chapter below, and several new ones are coming soon! I've also begun posting the story on as [something clever]! I'm so excited to be working on this story that has been lying dormant for FAR too long!
Disclaimer- I don't own the world of Harry Potter. All the credit goes to the ever fabulous JK Rowling.
Summary: When Hermione's world falls apart, will she ever be able to recover? And can an unlikely friendship with Fred Weasley help heal her broken heart?
Chapter One
"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, swear to love, honor, and cherish this man, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"Do you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, swear to love, honor, and cherish this woman, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"Then I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"
Click. Rewind. Play.
"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, swear to love, honor, and cherish this man, until death do you part?"
"I do."
Click. Rewind. Play.
"I do."
Click. Rewind. Play.
"I do."
Click. Rewind. Play.
"I-"
Before the small television could continue any further, a remote was chucked at it so hard that the screen cracked, and consequently shut it off.
Hermione Weasley, the one responsible for chucking the remote, sat on the sofa, silent, and absentmindedly patting her very pregnant stomach as she settled back into the numbness she'd grown accustomed to over the past few days. She was a shadow, a woman on autopilot. All she could do was watch her wedding video like a character looking in on the first page of her story, from the last. Death had taken Ron from her faster than either of them had ever expected. Only two days earlier, they had been parted forever.
Staring at the cracked screen of the telly that Ron had bought to celebrate renting out their first flat, not for the first time, she thought of the moment that changed everything…
&
It had been a good day. A great day even.. After weeks of research, she had finally diagnosed one of her patients with a rare, but treatable disease, felt the baby moving more than ever, and her hair was looking unusually good.
Toward the end of the day, she spotted a familiar mane of red hair, and quickly rushed over to say hello.
"Fred! It's great to see you. I thought you were staying in France until next week!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her brother-in-law in a hug (at least as much as a seven months along woman can hug). He and George had been traveling abroad for the past three months, leaving Ron in charge of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Ron loved helping out in the shop, and hadn't minded taking a leave of absence from the ministry to help out his two brothers. In all honesty, it could be hard being an auror in Harry Potter's shadow, where the sun rarely shown. It wasn't that Harry wanted all of the attention he received, he just… did, and at times, it was a little hard for Hermione's husband to stomach.
Momentarily lost in her thoughts, Hermione took awhile to realize that her brother-in-law wasn't responding to her embrace.
In fact, he wasn't at all like his usual self. Rather than making a remark about how she must have hidden a quaffle where her stomach should be, or some such thing, he just stared at her with a pained, hollow look.
It was a look she'd find on her own face for most of the months to come.
"What's wrong?" she questioned, her brow furrowing with worry, a moment of inexplicable panic hitting her. Where was the other twin? Had something happened in Europe? "Wait, where's George? Is he ok?"
"George is fine. But Hermione…" Fred began, then stopped suddenly, looking like someone had knocked the wind out of him.
"What Fred?"
"When George and I got back, we went to the shop, and Ron was on the floor.. We don't know what happened.. We tried every reviving spell we know. We called emergency healers…"
Hermione was silent for a moment, until feeling a kick from the baby gave her the nerve to speak again.
"But you helped him? He's fine, right? Everything is ok now?" Hermione asked in a somewhat strained voice, dreading the answer. If Ron was fine, he'd be standing in front of her, not Fred. She tried to calm herself, thinking that hormones were making her paranoid, but before she could truly steady herself, Fred spoke again.
"Hermione, he's.. We, they, tried everything, and he's gone."
It's impossible to explain the feeling that hit Hermione at that moment. It felt vaguely like having all the bones removed from her body. In later years, Hermione would try to think of an exact word to describe the emotion, but as anyone who's lost a loved one can agree with, she never found the right one.
"Gone?"
Fred nodded silently nodded, and at that moment, Hermione's world stopped turning.
She let out a cry of agony as she realized what the words meant. The next thing she knew, she was crumpled into Fred's arms as the realization hit her again and again and again. Her husband was dead.
&
Now Hermione simply resigned herself to sitting on the sofa, and trying to feel nothing. She was failing miserably. Ron was in everything. He was in the kitchen, laughing at her burnt pancakes, and offering to cook next time. He was in the living room, playing chess, crinkling his nose, thinking of his next move. He was in the small library, draping his arm over her, whispering in her ear.
A simple autopsy spell had determined that Ron's death was caused by a brain aneurysm. When the coroner stated that the cause of death was something so simple, Hermione almost cringed. She and Ron, along with Harry, had faced death many times, by death eaters, mountain trolls, basilisks, and even Voldemort himself!
At the thought of Tom Riddle, the day of the final battle flashed painfully before her eyes and her mind filled with the horrifying reptilian features of the dark wizard. Ron had dueled that snake alongside Harry and Hermione, and lived! It seemed almost wrong that Ron could survive all of that, then go on to die of something so simple…
A knock on the door forced Hermione out of her thoughts. She managed to drag herself to the door and watched her hand turn the knob, opening it so that her escort to the funeral could enter. She found herself irritated that she wasn't able to apparate on her own. She understood that side-along was safer for the baby, and she wasn't going to risk anything on that front, but that didn't stop her from wanting a bit of independence. She was Hermione for Merlin's sake…
"Hello Fred," she mumbled, forcing out words and briefly wondering when speaking had become so difficult. She used to be the such a loudmouth. Ron had never ceased to remind her when they were young of just how annoying it was, but over time even that had evolved into something he'd loved about her.
"It's time to go. Are you ready?" Fred asked softly, getting straight to the point.
"No, but that doesn't change anything, does it?" Hermione said bitterly, too strained to notice the look of pain flicker in Fred's eyes.
"No. I don't suppose it does," he grabbed her hand gently, and in a moment they were at the Burrow.
Everyone was meeting there before the funeral, so that they could set up. By the time Hermione arrived, there were already chairs set out, and a casket at the end of an aisle in the middle of the chairs. Immediately Hermione's thoughts shifted back to their wedding, which had taken place in the same spot. She might have laughed at the irony of it all, if only she had the energy to laugh. The first place she'd looked at Ron's face as his wife would also be the last.
"Could I have a minute alone?" Hermione asked quietly, looking up at Fred's face.
"Sure," he said, "We'll wait for you inside, yeah?"
"I'll be inside in a minute," Hermione replied, keeping her voice steady.
Fred gave her a look of concern before heading inside, leaving Hermione alone with the chairs and the casket.
Hermione slowly walked, slightly waddling, to the large oak box, and looked at Ron's face for the last time. She reached a hesitant hand out, wanting to touch him one last time, but held back. She would hold his hand in the next life, when he could hold hers in return. Hermione sadly decided waiting for that day was better, even though at the moment it made her ache. A second after pulling her hand back, she felt a small kick, directly beside her belly button. She put a hand to her stomach, and used the other to wipe away her tears. She had to be strong, because she had another person that needed her to be.
Hermione quietly whispered to Ron, who wasn't really Ron anymore, "I love you. I always have, and I always will. I couldn't stop even if I wanted to."
At that Hermione wiped her eyes, turned around, and made her way into the house.
After walking inside, the first person she saw was Mrs. Weasley, who wrapped Hermione in a fierce hug, holding on to her for as long as she could. When they pulled apart, Hermione saw tears in her mother-in-law's eyes, and knew that some were pooling in her own. The two women stood silently together for a moment, one missing a son, the other mourning for her husband.
"He loved you so much Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, breaking the silence.
"I know. I loved- love- him too. I don't… I don't know how to do this without him," Hermione found herself saying.
"You'll get through this. We'll get through this as a family. If you ever want to talk, or need a place to escape to, you are always welcome here. We love you quite as much as Ron did," Molly stifled a sob as she said her son's name, "And I expect you around just as much as ever once my grandchild gets here." Molly put on a smiling face for Hermione's sake, and the young woman couldn't help but feel guilty. Mrs. Weasley shouldn't have to worry about her when she'd just lost her youngest son.
Hermione hugged her mother in law again. It hit her that as personal as her own pain felt, the whole family was hurting.. She had to be strong for them, and for herself, but how? How could she go on without Ron? How could she spend one more day knowing that she would never see him again?
As the questions overwhelmed her, she saw a flash of unruly black hair, and before she knew it she was being wrapped in another hug.
"Harry…"
"Hermione," Harry said, hanging on to her for another second before letting go. Hermione knew what Harry must be thinking. He'd always assumed, because of that horrid prophecy, that he'd die long before her or Ron. It must be surreal for him, as much as it was for her. Hermione just looked at him like someone who had been stretched too far.
"When do you think I'm going to wake up?" she asked, quietly.
"I think this is real 'Mione…" Harry said, his voice tight.
"How's Ginny taking it? I haven't even seen her yet," Hermione asked, wondering where Ginny was. Ginny had found out she was pregnant around the same time as Hermione, and they'd shared a special bond ever since. Having someone to complain about swollen feet to, as well as someone to shriek with whenever the baby kicked, had been a lot of help over the last seven months.
"She's in shock," Harry replied, his eyes clouding with worry, "Stress and the baby are really taking a toll on her. She's worried about you."
"Me? She needs to focus on herself and the Mini-Potter," Hermione said in an attempt at cheerfulness, or something like it.
"You're her sister. You're mine as well. Of course we're worried about you," Harry replied, "I think everyone is."
"I'm worried about me too," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I'll be fine. I have a baby to take care of."
After everyone arrived, the group made their way to the chairs. The funeral was small, with only the order and a few others in attendance. Ron's great auntie Muriel sobbed obnoxiously in the back row, while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat as still as stone beside a sniffling Ginny. Hermione sat with them in the front row, pretending to listen to Dumbledore giving the eulogy, while her mind was far away, along with her heart, thinking of the last time she'd seen Ron alive…
A/N- So what do you think of chapter numero one? I wrote a much shorter version about six months ago, and it was abandoned, so now you're getting a look at the much longer, re-vamped version!