Disclaimer: Oh come on, people, if I could write as well as J.K., I would be getting paid for this.
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Broken Apart
It had been four years since Ronald Weasley's mysterious disappearance. They had only been married a few days when the Death Eater attack had ripped their lives apart. At least there was still hope. They had taken him alive, and that was what had kept Hermione going on, that and the surprising blessing that had been bestowed upon her just weeks after her husband had been taken from her side. Since she was a child, there hadn't been a day that she hadn't seen his smile, his deep blue eyes that sparkled with laughter and fire. Then one day, he was gone. But the gods had not been entirely cruel. She still saw those eyes every day, and flashes of his adorable half smile, just in someone else. Their little girl would be turning three soon, another year. Hermione wished that Ron could've seen her grow. His family had been there every step of the way, Mrs. Weasley fussing constantly, worrying about every little detail. Evelyn Hope Weasley. She looked so like her father. The trademark red hair and freckles were more vibrant every day. She did have her mother's curls, a much tamer version, it seemed, but they were there all the same.
Hermione had passed the time very poorly. She spent much of her time in the window box of their small garden cottage. When she could no longer gaze longingly down the cobblestone road, hoping to see a flash of disshevelled red hair, she would read, and sometimes work in her garden. She had been reading to Evvy more and more. The little girl shared her mother's love of the written word. However, while Evvy found adventure and discovery, Hermione found escape. She wished that she could know that Ron was alright, but Mrs. Weasley's magic clock had stopped working long ago, though it still hung on the wall where it always had. Books remained her only solace in a world that never ceased to remind her of what she had lost.
Her mind drifted to Harry. They hadn't spoken much lately. He was still off nobely saving the world from everthing from papercuts to earthquakes. Hermione couldn't look him in the eye, not while Ginny waited patiently for him to see that by not being with him, she lived in more pain than any Death Eater could inflict. He stood for everything Hermione had lost. Harry had a love like Hermione had had with Ron, and he threw it away because of fear. He had been searching for the sixth Horcrux for two years now, unable to put his finger on what it might be. In Hermione's mind, by not living his life, he was letting Voldemort kill him a little at a time. She couldn't bear to see Ginny's heart break more every day. It wasn't fair what Harry was doing to her. It was strange, if you had asked Hermione years ago, she would have stood ferociously be Harry's decision. But that was before she knew what it was to love someone that much and not be able to be with them because of Voldemort. Harry was still good to Hermione. He had tried searching for Ron, but it was no use. Harry had never stopped being a good friend, Hermione just wanted to him to see how much Ginny needed him, and whether or not he wanted to admit it, how much he needed her too.
Hermione put it out of mind. She was going to be late. She was due for tea with Ron's family in ten minutes. She walked quickly to Evelyn's room. She was sitting on her bed drawing. Hermione smiled.
"What are you coloring, sweetheart?" She asked her daughter.
"I'm making a picture for Daddy." She replied nonchalantly. Hermione sighed.
"Evvy, we don't know when Daddy will be back...come on love. We'll be late for tea."
Hermione hated to have to be honest, but she didn't want her to get her hopes up. She couldn't stand the thought of her being disappointed.
"But I have to finish it, Mummy. I have to finish it before he gets back. I had a dream about him last. He told me he's coming home." Evvy's eyes started to well up. For a small child, she certainly could get her point across, and quite heartbreaakingly at that.
Hermione took her hand and led her silently to the fireplace. She picked her up, and threw a handful of Floo Powder into the grates.
"The Burrow" she said as clearly as she could.