She walked in and sat down on his bed. A year. One long year of regretting everything.

She couldn't think of anything else, but him. People tried to get her to think of other things, but it never worked. She held back tears. The women grabbed the pillow off of the bed and huged it tightly to her. The tears came freely now. She had cried so much in the past year, it was almost on a high level of insanity.

She grabbed the book under his bed. It was a scrapbook. Full of his years at Hogwarts. Every page was one of him and his brother. And then third year came, there were ones that invovled the great Harry Potter. (But we're not going to talk about that. We're here to talk about these two.) And his last year, the one when she knew that she was in love with him, was the best for photo-op moments. She watched as the tears dripped down her face and onto the moving pictures.

She missed him so much. It hurt to think about loving anyone else.

She noticed the door open, but didn't wipe away her tears. She knew that he wouldn't mind. The man sat down next to her, took the scrapbook from her hands and gently placed it next to them. She leaned her head against his shoulder and let more tears fall. He hugged her and let her cry.

She didn't cry for long though, because she said, "They say there are 5 stages to losing someone you love."

"What are they?" He asked quietly.

She sighed deeply. "1...Mourning. 2, Depression. 3, Anger. 4, Realization. And 5, Acceptance," she looked down at her hands.

"What stage are you at?"

"...I don't know."

He scoffed. "Don't give me that."

"It's been a year and I don't think I've even reached stage 3 yet," she said quietly.

"When you do, I'll be there," he said.

"So when I start to reak everything I own, you'll stop me?" She was attempting to make a joke, but it was tedious. Useless. Pointless. But, he nodded. "I saw Ron the other day. I think he doesn't understand. No, I know he doesn't understand. He doesn't know the pain I feel everyday. Sometimes I think that no one will ever understand."

"I do...in some ways. I understand that you are upset abo-"

"I am NOT upset! I am heartbroken and I keep thinking that he will come back but he won't! I know that he won't but my brain doesn't want to comprehend that he is dead and not coming back! And I can't control it! I just want to have him back for one day, 24 hours, to tell him everything! Why the bloody hell didn't I tell him before?" She yelled, her voice craking at the end. The tears were no longer of sadness. They were of anger.

"By George, I think she's entered stage 3," he joked.

"Oh George," she rolled her eyes. "I just...I keep thinking and acting like he's just gone away on a mini-vacation and coming back soon. He's not and never will come back. I loved him then, I love him now, and I think I'l love him forever and ever. I just don't know what to do," she whispered. "Tell me what to do."

He opened his mouth and sighed. "Did I ever tell you about the promises he and I made each other?" The girl just shook her head. "Well...about a month before the battle...Fred asked me, 'If I die during the battle, would you look after Hermione for me? Make sure that she doesn't mourn for too long and then goes and lives her life, like she's supposed to. Promise me that you will.' And I had promised." Hermione had tears running down her face and took a shaky breath before he continued. "He promised the same thing for me. I wanted him to watch after Angelina and make sure that she was happy. He had promised. I lost my brother, my twin brother. But I had to tell you that I promised him, and I never break my promises."

Hermione hugged him tightly. It was indirectly said, but it was given.

Fred had loved Hermione, just as she had loved him. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did.

"Thank you George." She let go of him. "I loved him, he loved me, but we weren't supposed to. I was meant to love Ron, I was born to love him. But I just...didn't." She shrugged slowly and continued quietly. "I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tel him everything, but it never came out. I wanted to tell him before he left Hogwarts. Before my OWLs. But that never happened. Maybe fate just didn't want us together. Everything happens for a reason, right?"

George hugged her gently and kissed her forehead. "I think you just entered Realization." She nodded tearfully. "Can you promise me somthing Hermione?"

"Anything," she whispered.

"Promise me that you will accept the truth. Accept that he is gone and only remember the good things in his life and remember that he died fighting for the greater good. Please."

Hermione nodded. "Okay," she said, just barely loud enough for George to her and her voice cracked. She stood up and wiped the tears away. She was at the door when she said, "Then you promise me something."

"Sure."

"Promise that you'll go on a date, a real date, with Angelina Johnson."

George smiled. "Sure Mione. Anything for you."

"Thank you George," she said.

"No. Thank you Hermione," he said with meaning.

Hermione smiled for the first time in a year. She opened the door and walked out, intending on keeping that promise.

-A/N: Not my best, but I hope you enjoyed it. I don't own Harry Potter. Reviews make me stronger and happier.