DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling is the great and powerful talent; I am merely a worshipping peasant.

PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU CONTINUE: I've done my fair share of writing fanfiction (all of which have failed me miserably) because I had no idea how to continue with the writing. My lack of motivation and serious time constraints stem from that. This story, however, I've actually already written the first four (semi-lengthy) chapters and the eighth chapter. I have no idea where this story will take me, nor how long my motivation will keep going but I still have lots of ideas for it and I've never been this excited about a story-line. Ever. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I've kept pretty much the entire story (besides the George/Hermione stuff and the fact that Percy is dead) VERY canon. I don't have the ending written yet but I'm hoping to get up 15 or 16 chapters.

Let's roll.

I sit on the edge of the bed, having just woken in a cold sweat and my heart pounding yet again. My now cold feet rested gingerly on the freezing floor; my hands, palm down, on the bed at my sides. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to remember, but like the day before and the day before that, the tears come, warm and invading, sliding down my pained face. I had one night with him, one night where we finally figured everything out and the love making. My god, the love making…

I sob even harder remembering his gentle touches across my tanned skin. Even though we had been in a dark and dank tent for nearly a year, awaiting the arrival of our impending doom, it was so deliciously comforting to know something as simple as the human touch could bring you back to life. And I was fortunate enough to have that even just once.

The saying, 'You never know what you have until it's gone,' is so disgustingly true, I slide down to my knees, holding my stomach, no longer able to take it.

It's been one month, six days, three hours, and forty-two minutes since the love of my life was ripped away from me forever; thirty-four days since his brothers had their funerals; twenty-nine days since my love was declared missing in action as his body was never recovered; and twenty-one days since his memorial was put up in the garden of the Burrow.

It hardly seems real and I beg Merlin everyday to release me from this pain. How long it will last, I have no idea. I literally don't think I've ever felt this hopeless in my life; never mind the answers to an exam I simply could not remember. Nor my parents who are safely tucked away in Australia somewhere and I may never find them again. At least they'll be happy. At least they'll never know the mess they're missing. Sometimes, of course, I do wish my mum was with me, hugging the pain away. Keeping me from harming myself…

I start coughing up the phlegm that's threatening to choke me to death but think, 'Why bother? It's not like I have anything to live for anyway.'

Suddenly, there's a light knock at the door and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the intruder to leave me alone, but most of all, for these tears to stop pouring out from the back of my eyeballs.

"Hermione?" I hear Ginny's concerned voice on the other side of the door.

"Please, Ginny. I want to be alone."

"No one wants to be alone during times like this. Especially me." She opens the door to find me on my knees with my hands palm up toward the window. She closes the door behind her. "Isn't this life just shit?" she continues, getting down on her knees to join me. She has red eyes from exhaustion but no actual trace of a tear.

I'm so numb to everything that I pay no attention to her swearing. Something I would come to find in later months that I don't actually have any issue with at all.

I tilt my chin down, "Yes."

Ginny continues looking forward through the window, into the very early-morning moon. Fog paints interesting pictures past the window and our breath is sticky in our throats. My knees are starting to hurt from the hardwood floor but I don't care.

"I always knew my parents had the best intentions for me what with them not letting me in on things all the time. Like with the Order and being at the Battle. But I never really understood why. Then I realized it's not only because I'm their daughter, I'm also their only daughter. They wanted a girl, I know, especially mum. Merlin's balls, that woman can smother!" Ginny smiles to herself, hoping she can get something out of me as well.

Really, the young woman, my dear friend, has more strength, emotionally and physically, than anyone I'd ever met. This including Harry himself. Perhaps that's why he desperately needs her in his life. She grew up with six older brothers, after all, so of course she would not be as emotional as the next girl; Harry needs a woman who can hold her own emotionally. He's much too busy dealing with his own emotional crises. Which is why he's currently living at Grimmauld Place rather than at the Burrow.

But I just can't help it. Another tear falls down my cheek. "I understand what you're trying to do, Ginny. But your family is like my second family. I love you all and now you only have three brothers. I can't help it."

Then I feel her snake her arm around my waist. "It's alright. I don't know what I'd do if Harry was dead. But that's why we must stick together. We're the Weasleys, after all!"

"I'm no Weasley…" I shake my head and another tear falls down my cheek.

"Well, we all know you would have become one eventually." Ginny concedes. "But by honorary default, you are one and there's nothing you can do about it!"

We exchange a weak smile.

I suddenly realize I haven't asked a damn thing about her and Harry. I straighten up, wipe my eyes on my shirt sleeves, and look at Ginny, "So, how are things with you and-"

"It's taking him some time." Ginny looks at me, frank. "I've been giving him space and I've told him countless times that it's not his fault, for any of it. It still hurts, yes, but eventually we will all move on."

"I really wish I had your strength." I look away from her intense gaze.

"Some would call it heartlessness. I call it 'being the only damn girl in a house full of Weasley boys'."

I chuckle to myself. "I suppose you're right. Still, I'd rather feel like I'm able to carry on."

"But you can and you will. And we'll all get through this together, eh?"

I look at her with sad eyes. I really hope she's right. We sit in silence for another minute when Ginny stands up and says, "Well, c'mon. It's nearly breakfast. Mum'll need company." She offers her hand to me and I take it. I slide my slippers onto my feet and proceed down the stairs with her.

As I cross the threshold of the Burrow's living room space into the kitchen, something obvious is lacking. The very air of the Burrow has become stale, unfeeling, depressed. No longer are there lights to guide your path throughout the magical house, you need the sun's natural light to make sure you don't trip on anything obscure. Two of the hands on the Weasley clock have been removed while Ron's is perpetually under 'Lost'. No one really understands this as the last few seconds I spent with him, he had no heartbeat. He should have been declared dead and when I had to run away from his body (god, I fucking should not have done that!) to prevent my own death, I came back not ten minutes later and he was missing.

"Mum?" Ginny asks, when I walk in behind her.

Mrs. Weasley looks up, almost startled, with red, tired eyes, but immediately wipes away the memory. "Oh, hello dears. I was just about to make everyone breakfast."

Ginny nods her on, knowing that if she made her mother stop doing what she does best, she might break down and cry. We all need something to pre-occupy our minds. But today, 'everyone' means only Ginny, me, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and George, who hasn't been seen in three days. We all suspect he's at his and Fred's joke shop but Mr. Weasley told everyone yesterday that he would be visiting him today to make sure he hasn't done anything stupid.

This made Mrs. Weasley sob even harder.

Ginny and I sit in silence at the kitchen table while we hear the occasional clink and clang from Mrs. Weasley's pots and pans and the frying of eggs and bacon. Smelling the bacon makes my stomach churn in an odd way and I know I'm starving, having not eaten more than one link of breakfast sausage two days ago, but I discover that even though my stomach is telling me to eat, I'm still nowhere near hungry. I excuse myself from the table and Ginny looks after me. I can almost feel the hope in her eyes that I'm okay.

I walk out of the door and run to the pond behind the Burrow. Honestly, I know I have no right to feel this way as compared to the Weasleys, but Merlin's pants, I would have been one of them! I just know it! Ron sacrificed his life for Harry and how do the fates repay him!? Repay me!? Harry deserves love in his life, however. I can not blame him; he's been through the mill more times than anyone can even account for. Still, I can't help but feel that pull of resentment, knowing I'll never again see the love of my life, and that he and Ginny can start over.

My reflection in the water takes me back to simpler times of sadness and aggravation.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" I yelled. My hair was coming out of its bun and my face was screwed up in anger.

"Oh yeah?" Ron had yelled back. "What's that?"

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

I remember running up to my dorm after that seeing that Ron had gone speechless. I smile weakly to myself, thinking, 'What a stupid row.'

"Hermione?" I wheel around, my heart almost in my throat.

"Mr. Weasley! Sorry, I-"

He puts his hands up to keep me calm. "It's alright, dear. I came out here to check on you before I Apparate to George's." Mr. Weasley is balding and his glasses are slightly askew from lack of care. He also looks tired and sad but through decades of working in the Ministry and seeing some spectacularly awful things, his demeanor has become a little hardened. Still, he's recently lost three sons and he's out here, checking on his would-be daughter-in-law. I instantly feel guilty but also, somehow, relieved. I've always liked this man and somewhere down the line, he's accepted me as another daughter.

He continues, "I know Ginny's talked to you earlier but I came out here for another reason."

I stay silent, curious as to what he's about to say.

"There's a lot of room in the Burrow now." Mr. Weasley says, quietly but matter-of-factly. "Bill's gone back to Fleur and Gringott's already as he feels Molly can handle things now. And Charlie has to go back to work tomorrow in Romania after his month leave is up. I'm not sure what George's plans are right now and I'll be finding out when I get there, but I'm sure he's going to want to stay above the joke shop for now. So, after all is said and done, it'll just be you and my girls. The point is, Molly and I have discussed it and we would love it if you stayed at the Burrow until you get back on your feet, no matter how long it takes."

I stare at him. The generosity of the Weasleys has always astounded me, especially for how poor they are. Every year since I was fourteen, they have opened their house (and other quarters, can't forget Grimmauld Place in Fifth Year) to me and I just hope I've acted as grateful as I always have been, and now, will be.

"Mr. Weasley, thank you." I say with pleading eyes.

"That's not necessary," he waves off my thanks. "You're family, the Burrow will always be open to you and Harry."

I close my mouth and nod. I'm about to start crying again but I hold back. As Mr. Weasley walks away, I say out loud, "Mr. Weasley?"

"Arthur, Hermione. I think we've crossed this bridge by now." He gives me a warm smile.

I smile weakly, blushing. "Right. Can I tell you something?"

"Anything, dear," he looks at me, curiously, but not unkindly. I feel like he already knows what I'm going to say.

"I loved your son, very much. I wanted…" I close and open my mouth again, wringing my hands together, wondering if I should even be saying this to the father of my 'missing in action' would-be boyfriend. Mr. Weasley gives me a knowing look. Perhaps I don't need to say anything?

"I know, dear. And I could not have picked a better, more intelligent, talented, and frankly, more stubborn, young woman for my son," he chuckles to himself.

I blush and can feel those damn tears welling up in my eyes again. I nod and say, "Thank you, Mr. Weasley, er, Arthur." Saying his first name feels almost foreign on my tongue but it's what he wants.

He nods in my direction and Disapparates.

I ponder the conversation I just had another moment and walk back inside the Burrow. Ginny is pushing her food around with her fork while Mrs. Weasley looks out the window, drinking a cup of tea. My intrusion wakens her from her daydream. She looks at me, and while she puts down her cup of tea, she says, "Hermione, dear, has Arthur already told you that-"

"I can stay for as long as I need?" I look her in the eye, smiling.

She smiles back, knowing that my own smile is confirmation that I have agreed.

"Well, when Charlie's gone, you have your pick of rooms. But I can't imagine you wouldn't want to remain with Ginny for now."

"I think I'll stay in Ginny's room for now, yes." I am not about to tell her that I've been sneaking into Ron's room every night since I got here to attempt sleep in his bed.

"Good, good. Well, I think I'm going to straighten up. This house is in a right state!" She claps her hands together and proceeds to clean everything in the kitchen by hand. I've noticed she hasn't used magic in about a week. But I suppose this is her coping mechanism. I just hope the loss of three of her sons hasn't stunted her magic forever. She is quite the talented witch, as evidenced by the Battle just over a month ago, and I would hate to see it completely diminish. Luckily, I found my own, rather obvious, coping mechanism with great ease: I am pretty sure I have not read as many books as I have in my entire life, in the last two weeks.

Ginny looks up at me after her mum starts cleaning and averts her eye to the living room then back to me. I follow her into the living room. "So we're going to be room mates for a while now, eh?"

"Yeah, are you alright with that?" I ask, hoping that it is.

"Honestly, what kind of question is that?" Ginny asks, laughing.

I laugh along with her. "Yeah, I know. I hope you don't mind I'll probably continue my nightly crusades."

"When have I ever?" Ginny winks at me.

I give her a look.

She continues, "It's going to hurt for a long time, Hermione. Believe me, I've lost three brothers. But I'm doing what I can to make myself feel right again. And I want you to do the same."

"I will, but I can't promise anything."

"No one can promise anything right now. What matters is the effort and how we keep going on."

"You're right." I take a deep breath. I think it's about time I started acting like the end of the world really is not here. "We can do this."

"Alright. Now, let's go to Grimmauld Place."

Author's Note: You like? Please help me to improve by leaving a glorious (if not, constructive) review!