They took comfort in each other.
Both grieved, they mourned the loss of the sense of self they had once possessed.
The dark was fast approaching, and it was obvious that the only option was to face it and hope for the best.
She felt the cold of suddenly being unstuck from the two which usually held her together. For what felt like her whole life, they had always been one being. Never separated, it had long ago become a custom to refer to them as one: HarryRonandHermione. But now, they were forced to acknowledge that they were no longer one soul split into three bodies. They had each grown into their own person, and it scared them. They were terrified of independence, of having to grow up. Each yearned for the comfort of the others, all the while knowing that the sense of home they had always felt with each other was gone. The place they all wanted to go back to didn't exist. It had long since vanished into the ground. Being alone was so terribly cold. She longed for the warmth of home. The home that was gone.
He felt the separation from his world. Yes, to the outside, he was his same self. But he didn't feel like that person anymore. It was all a show. After the crowds had thinned and everyone had drifted off to bed, he lingered. Staring at the smoldering remains of the fire, he saw it as a mirror. For that was his life now. A smoldering remain. And though his brother was and always would be there for him, his twin, he didn't feel the closeness he had once felt. George had drifted away from him: he had to acknowledge it sometime. They used to be inseparable, but now, they were rarely found together. The realization that George no longer felt like his other half, the other side of the same coin, was incredibly difficult. He didn't want to feel that way. But he had no idea how to go back to how things used to be. He wondered if it would ever be possible.
She felt so terribly alone. Even though she was constantly surrounded by people, she felt no particular attachment to any. Her smile was bright as ever, if a little forced at times. It was assumed by those who noticed, however, that it was simply the stress of school. It was her O.W.L. year, after all. Everybody was feeling the heat. But once, just once, she wished that someone would notice that she wasn't ok. She wasn't just stressed. She had changed, and somehow twisted away from what she knew. Thrown into the unknown which was so cleverly disguised to look like her world, but it was off. At a first glance, it seemed normal, but upon closer inspection, it wasn't quite right.
He had decided to stay in the common room. Just for a little while; he needed to clear his head. Feeling completely overwhelmed, he put his head in his hands. He sat like that for quite a while, just listening to the sound of his breathing. After a while(he didn't really know how much time), he realized he wasn't alone. Lifting his head, he looked over to where the quiet sound of presence was coming from.
She couldn't do it anymore. Everything was just so hard. Why did everything have to be so complicated? So tiring? She couldn't sleep, so instead she slipped out of her dormitory into the common room for a bit of air. She eased herself into an armchair by the window, which had conveniently been left open just a crack. Closing her eyes, she let her mind settle, her thoughts quiet down. Until she heard the rustle of someone shifting their position.
He was surprised to see someone else in the common room at this hour. She had noticed him too. Throwing caution to the wind, he got up and slowly walked over to her seat by the window.
"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he tried to make it sound as though he just happened to be here, and nothing was wrong. He even went for his trademark smirk. He couldn't get it right, though, and instead he just looked like he was in pain. Well, that much was true, at least.
She knew he was trying. It really was a sign of how much he was going through, that he felt the need to put up a show. "Maybe it's easier for him that way," she thought "Maybe he thinks if he acts like he's ok, it'll make him feel better."
It just wasn't worth it. She knew he was hurting, and he knew her outer shell was cracking. They might as well come clean. Hermione spoke first, "You're not ok. But that's all right. Neither am I, really."
"I can't…I just…I feel so alone. It's like I'm screaming, but nobody can hear me."The words seemed to fall out of his mouth without his consent. If he hadn't felt his lips moving, he wouldn't have realized it was him. His voice sounded so defeated, so weak. Fred's voice broke, and he felt a lump rise in his throat as his eyes burned. He knew he ought to have felt embarrassed to be crying in front of his little brother's crush (Ron may not have realized it yet, but the rest of the family sure as hell had). At this point, when his life was falling apart from the inside out, he didn't care anymore. He just didn't.
"Oh Merlin," she thought to herself, "He's crying. Fred Weasley is crying in front of me. What the hell am I supposed to do?" She was a bit worried about how he would respond, but she followed her instincts and held him to her in a close embrace while rubbing his back in a motherly fashion. He didn't seem to mind, leaning into her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as he wept.
Suddenly, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her and she realized that she was holding a man who had broken down all emotional barriers between them, and was baring his soul to her, and right now, she didn't have to be strong. She burrowed her head into his chest and felt the tension she had been carrying for so long float away. As she clung to him, she felt all the emotions she had been so terrified of acknowledging release as she and Fred held each other tight, neither wanting to let go.
Fred's sobs finally subsided, and Hermione could breathe easily again, without a weight on her heart and lungs. As they pulled out of the embrace they had been in for so long, they simply stared at each other. Inexplicably feeling sure of himself, more sure than he had felt in months, Fred leaned down and softly, sweetly, pressed his lips to Hermione's. The kiss was that of a wounded person, full of fear, but underneath was something more. He was healing, and she helped him do that. As Hermione kissed him back, tentatively at first, but then more passionately, they realized that they had found what they were looking for in each other. Home.