A/N: Sad!Fremione time. Hermione breaks down after finding something in Fred's room. RxR. FxF. I do not own Harry Potter.

Submission for:

Ring of Fire/King's Cup Challenge: Prompt: Hurt/Comfort (Genre)

Hogwarts Fair 2014 Challenge/Competition: Refreshments

Represent That Character! Challenge II


Hermione clutched her arms tightly, trying to stem the flow of tears running down her cheeks. She had been sent here to get something, she being the most stable out of them all, she being the one that had weakest relationship with him. But they didn't know the truth - that she had hurt just like the rest of them, that she had feelings for him that were left unspoken.

She stared back down to the object on the floor and another sob escaped her throat. She could get through most days with a smile, maybe even a laugh or two. She could believe that he was in a better place, and that he was wreaking havoc wherever he was. But small things like this could always set her off and no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't get over him. She couldn't move on and get past this obstacle. But she could never really think of him as an obstacle. He was so much more than that.

He was a genius, his mind running a mile a minute which was probably why he spoke so fast and his tonque sometimes got tied. He was a laugh and a half and loved sharing that laugh with everyone. He was cocky but in a way that made you giggle when it was directed at you, because he made you feel special. He was carefree and playful and just fun to be around. He was attractive, the perfect amount of freckles and that constant wind-swept hair.

And he was gone. She sobbed again, squeezing her arms until red fingerprints appeared on her arms. She was trying to distract herself from the emotional pain with some physical pain. Sometimes it worked, but for some reason not today. Today, these feelings had come to stay and she just couldn't shake them off.

She became so aware now that she was in his room, his sanctuary, the place he had had his greatest ideas and also his darkest nightmares. It was a place not even his brother dared to venture into else he break down into a blubbering mess, though he was already doing that daily. For this place was theirs but now it was just his. It sounded like him, smelled of him and felt like him. And that brought on another sob, another reminder that though it was 'like' him, it wasn't him.

She looked out the window to her left and she could see him there. He was everywhere lately, even more so when she was set off like this. She saw him flying on his broom, shouting out plays and laughing the loudest - or maybe it was the loudest because he was the only one she heard. She could see him lazing about under the tree, his eyes closed and enjoying the summer breeze. She could see him ducking out through the back door, thinking no one had seen him, but Hermione did. She always did.

That stupid thing! She kicked it with her foot but then instantly scrambled for it when it rolled away. It was his, it had to be his since she had found it lodged between his mattress and the wall. She picked it up and cradled it in her hands delicately.

It was a ball, just a regular ball, soft and the right size to fit in her hand snugly. But it was his favourite colour: purple. She squeezed it softly, a small quacking noise escaping as it depressed and she couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to him to have a ball that was even a little out of the ordinary.

She squeezed the ball again, and she laughed at the sound. A quack, a laugh, a quack, a laugh. Eventually there was no more quacking and only her wild, uncontrollable laughter. Where earlier, she was clutching her arms to keep herself from breaking, she was now clutching her stomach to keep herself from busting a gut, throwing herself back on the bed. He could still make her laugh.

Once the laughter had finally subsided, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She didn't know how long she had stayed up here or if the others were worried about her, but she didn't care. She stared up at the ceiling lost in thought. He was still perfect. He was still amazing, and funny, and carefree. And he was still gone. But he was still here. In her heart and this ball. She squeezed it again and giggled at the quack that responded. Yes, he was still here.