Title: My Love, My Heart, My Soul
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
2017 Event: 365 Drabbles
Prompts used: 68 - stupid, 95 - naive, 155 - passion, 158 - disheveled, 196 - twinkle/twinkling, 225 - impossible, 239 - scream, 240 - affectionate (I may have used more prompts than I've indicated but I couldn't quite keep track of everything once the plunnies start pouring in, so I apologize if ever I missed to point out a few)
Muggle Studies (Assignment No. 14) by Slytherin Summer
Task #2: Write a "Five Stages of" themed story – Chosen theme: Five Stages of Grief: DABDA (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance)
Summary: Hermione visits Fred's grave a year after the war. AU canon & EWE
Pairing: Fred x Hermione (Fremione – I found it easy to write Fred's character and I personally love this ship too but my OTP is always Tomione. I like 'em bad boys)
*I will not write the story by saying "first stage – denial, second stage – anger" or anything of that sort. I will let the readers interpret the flow of events for themselves. And since my story will talk about death and grievance, I dedicate this for the casualties of the suicide bomb attack in Manchester and of course, to my own home country the Philippines, this is for the casualties from the terrorists' attacks in Marawi and every part of the world suffering. It really pains me to see how humanity could be so cruel to each other.
Final word count: 2,190
Hermione knelt on the patch of grass in front of his grave. The autumn wind was blowing her halo of long soft, brown curls as she tried to keep the stubborn strands in place. She cared no less when her skin chafed from the friction created while she kneeled under the rough rocks and dirt as she tried tugging the hem of her dress lower in place.
She was surrounded by a sea of graves; these were all the casualties from the war. She remembered the familiar faces, the names engraved on the headstones, the people whom she never gotten to know, and all of the loved ones who perished. Hermione religiously paid her respects to each one of them but there was one special grave situated at the top of the hill under a big oak tree that she always stayed the longest.
She reached out and gently laid a hand on the cold, hard stone. "Are you in there, Fred?" she whispered soothingly like a loving embrace. Her slender fingers delicately tracing the words engraved on the stone.
In honor of Fred Weasley (April 1, 1978 – May 2, 1998)
A loving son, brother and friend
Hermione's eyes turned glassy, she remained transfixed not on Fred's grave but beyond it towards a distant past, a happier time, filled with unforgotten memories.
She remembered it all impeccably well as the memories kept pouring inside her mind like torrents. Countless snogs with a mischievous, handsome, ginger in the broom closets, making love numerous times in the Room of Requirement and Hermione's most cherished, intimate memory of Fred.
It was the dead of night at the Burrow; Fred tiptoed carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboards that would awaken his twin, George who was sleeping soundly on the opposite bed in the room they shared as children.
He cautiously turned the doorknob and crept along the narrow hallway descending upon timeworn wood and rickety steps until he stood in front of his sister's room and gave one soft, solid knock secretly hoping that Hermione had not forgotten her promise to him earlier that day.
Hermione opened the door with a greeting smirk from him and she glanced behind her back making sure that Ginny was still fast asleep. Without saying a word, Fred took her hand and led her downstairs towards the family's small yard in front of the Burrow.
"Fred!" Hermione furiously whispered to him as he let go of her hand once they stepped foot outside the house, "I know Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approved of our relationship but I don't think it's proper to sneak around like this in their own home."
"Mione, I-I just want to say something." Fred's heartbeat strummed erratically in his chest and his palms suddenly felt clammy. He rehearsed this scene numerous times in his head so why was he so nervous all of a sudden?
"You want to say something?" Hermione quirked an inquisitive brow at him, "At this hour?" and folded her arms across her chest emphasizing her supple breasts over the thin material of her night gown which rapidly caught the red head's attention.
"Couldn't find a better timing myself." Fred tried to mask his anxiety and the abrupt distraction of her delectable anatomy with a poor joke but Hermione was still unimpressed. He was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake, now was the time to prove it.
He gazed up at the peaceful night sky and observed the many twinkling stars over the horizon. His blue crystalline eyes drifted towards Hermione whose appearance was merely illuminated by the iridescent moonlight shining from above.
Fred marveled at the beauty of the witch before him. Her halo of soft brown curls tangling madly by the wind, the many patches of freckles decorating her face, and her captivating caramel brown eyes that with each penetrating gaze she bore him felt as if she could see right through him, towards the depths of his bare soul and filling in the immeasurable crevices of his heart. And it was at this moment, he knew what it meant to fall deeply in love with somebody, how his heart felt like bursting from the overwhelming emotions.
"I love you, Hermione Granger and I want to marry you." Fred blurted out in a rush hoping that the petite brunette would understand the jumbled words he forced himself to say. It was the first time he ever confessed his feelings before and he had a strong feeling that George would definitely make fun of him for being a sap.
"Oh, Fred. I-I don't know what to say." Hermione's voice broke as tender tears formed in her eyes. She reached out to him and affectionately cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb as each touch tingled his skin.
Fred grabbed her small hand, "Just say yes," and pressed loving kisses on the inside of her palm. "Be mine, let's make it official." He coolly listed the ways.
Hermione bit her lip "But the war is still… and Harry needs…" There was so much destruction and chaos going on in the world, she wasn't sure she was ready for that yet even if she loved Fred dearly from the bottom of her heart.
"I'm not rushing you or anything, Mione. I never told you how I felt about you and with everything going on; I just wanted you to know that you're it for me," Fred shyly scratched the back of his neck as he felt an unwanted blush heating his face, "I know that when this is all over you're going back to school and restart your life but I-I can support you. I have a stable job at the joke shop. And I'm sure Mum would be so happy I found myself a good witch." He laughed because he knew his mother would not waste any more time and immediately start planning the wedding.
"I love you too, Fred Weasley," Hermione rested her forehead against his solid built, savoring the gentle rising and falling of his chest, listening to his drumming heartbeat "Ask me again, when all this is over." And she stood on her tiptoes, drawing his lips to hers in a passionate, heated moment. Pouring every emotion into that kiss she wasn't allowed to convey in words.
They made love that night, in the presence of the basking full moon as they awaited the looming fate that would soon change their lives forever.
Fred wasn't able to ask her again. And a mixture of despair, pain and regret surged like tiny needles pricking her heart. It happened during the dreadful day at the Battle of Hogwarts. A newly, reconciled Percy joined his family to fight against the Dark Lord when a powerful, stray spell blasted the wall and trampled Fred.
The war was over, Harry Potter won, and Voldemort died but Fred's body like many others who died that day lay on a mat in the Great Hall. Arthur and Molly were too crushed by the fate that had befallen on one of their children, Percy was too rattled and could not be spoken to properly, he blamed himself for what happened, and George agitatedly stormed out of the school, he needed to be alone.
Hermione stood next to Fred's body clutching his cold hand like it was her only life line. "No, no! This cannot be happening." The devastating tears fell like furious waterfalls blurring her vision as she couldn't control the destructive emotions crushing her heart.
"I know it hurts, Hermione," Ron placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "He was my brother." And his tone broke as he saw the ghost of a smile etched on his older brother's face.
"Fred, tell me this is one of your jokes," Hermione cried desperately as she gazed at him, "That you'll get up and laugh at me for falling to one of your tricks again." She sniffed and hiccupped as she felt the growing absence of his familiar warmth from the unresponsive hand she was clutching.
"Hermione." Harry hugged her from behind as she buried herself in between her two best friends wallowing in the miserable tears that overflowed her melancholy.
Hermione was left alone mourning the loss of her lover. But before she would allow herself to abscond from his company, she gently whispered into his ear "I love you so much, Fred. You would have been a great father." Yer hands fondly falling onto her stomach.
With a last departing kiss on the back of his hand and after stroking his ginger hair, she stood up heavily trying to drag her legs away from the depressing scene. And she could have sworn at that exact instant, she felt a ghost of a kiss lingered on her lips. The familiar scent of pinewood, mint, and mischief – all distinctively Fred filled her nose.
Then a gust of wind crooned softly in her ear, "I'll always love you, Mione."
"Hermione, this is madness!" George threw his hands in the air with exasperation, "You should stop this and focus on your family!" Harry had called him earlier that day in Grimmauld Place because no one could convince the stubborn witch from her stressful obsession of bringing Fred back from the dead.
"I love him, George!" Hermione screamed at him crossly as numerous tomes, parchments of her notes, ancient runes, and inscriptions from her research scattered haphazardly inside her room.
"And do you think I don't?" George told her incredulously, "He was my other self and do you know how hard it is for me to cope for the rest of my life knowing I'm half empty inside." He didn't want to hurt her but he knew Fred wouldn't like it whatever she was doing to herself.
"He wanted to marry me and I was so stupid and naïve to turn him down. I was so angry at myself and I didn't even have the chance to tell him he was going to be a father." Hermione finally confessed the awful truth she never shared to anybody as traitorous tears fought its way in her eyes.
"When did you find out?" George spoke to her quietly as he sadly observed the petite brunette looking awfully disheveled and the spark in her caramel brown eyes were gone.
Hermione swallowed hard, "When I was helping Madam Pomfrey tend to some of the casualties in the hospital wing, a few moments before the final battle." She did not want to replay that terrible memory of Fred.
"Why does this keep happening to me?" she slumped herself on the cold, hard floor as her shoulders quaked with anger and sorrow. She lost her parents and now she lost Fred, it was just too much for a worn out, bleeding heart to handle.
George crouched down and took the trembling witch into his arms, "Stay strong, Hermione. This child you're carrying is my nephew; he is the last link connecting us all to my brother so we cannot lose him too." hhs hand gently resting on the noticeable bump of Hermione's stomach.
"I would do anything to bring him back," Hermione vowed to herself as she buried her forehead against his chest sobbing, "If only I could." And her small hands balled into fists with the painful realization that what she wanted to do was almost impossible to achieve. She spent all those months working as an Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries and Percy joined her as well.
"You cannot play God into this. You and Perce need to stop; no one is to be blamed. Please, you're just making it hard for all of us." George said in broken tones as he felt the devastating grief surged through him once more.
He gently cupped her chin so she would be facing him, "I know how much you loved Fred, hell I love him just as much but even if it's difficult…even if it's eating you up inside, you have to live your life. Fred would have wanted that for you and his child."
"I-I don't know if I'll ever be happy again." Hermione despondently admitted to him as a dismal sensation swirled into the pit of her stomach and she felt the full force of the overpowering misery crushed her heart and soul.
"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal. Love leaves a memory no one can steal." George told her in a grave impression as he rose to his feet and pulled the witch up with him.
And Hermione kept those words close to her heart, even as she knelt in front of Fred's grave a year after the war, "Goodbye, my love. My heart and soul will forever belong to you." Letting her voice trail off in the wind.
"Mama, mama! Freddie is here!" a little boy with a wide array of freckles and familiar ginger hair ran towards Hermione and hugged his mother's legs playfully as he stood next to her in front of the gravestone.
Hermione lifted her little boy and placed a loving kiss on his forehead, "Say hi to your dada, Freddie."
She knew what she must do – acceptance was all she needed because to live in the hearts of those we love is never to die.
