Name: Chris

Title: When Time Is Done And All Is Still

Genre: Angst

Rating: T

Summary: It was our secret; we agreed it to be like that always. But now he's gone…and I'm not sure I can do it on my own.

A/N: Short little farewell ficlet for my favorite character and first real HP ship.

…0...

The wind whipped my hair violently around my head. They stuck, briefly, to the tear tracks that ran down my face. Voices kept filtering up to me occasionally from the solemn gathering in the yard behind me. Unlike the last time I was here, there was no music to be heard. No laughter, no joking. Joking is a trend I fear is no longer welcome in the Weasley home.

"Hey," a voice said softly behind her. "I was wondering where you went."

I turned to Harry, seeing the sympathy in his green eyes that seemed to take in everyone else's pain. I had to look away.

"Hermione?" he prodded gently. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." Sinking down onto the grass in front of a tree, I felt my dark robes billowing out around me to form a huge curtain about my folded legs on the ground. "How's everyone doing?"

Settling down by a tree across from me, Harry pushed his glasses up on his nose. He shrugged his shoulder non-commitally. "About as can be expected. Mrs. Weasley went to go lie down. George is up in his room. Ron and Lee went up to check on him."

I nodded. That was one of the main reasons I had come out here. I wanted a moment of silence to think yes, but I also knew the way George had been relying on Ron the past few days and I didn't want to get in the way of that. He has obligations to his family that don't involve me and my presence would just distract him.

There have been times when he's needed me lately. He's grieving too, they all are, and I've tried to help in any way I could. And no doubt he will again. After leaving George, I knew Ron was going to need me to be there for him-be strong for him like he had been doing for the rest of his family.

Even I was a little stunned at the way Ron had taken charge during the situation. It was something one would expect from Bill or maybe Charlie, but not Ron. There'd always been a heavy dose of the younger brother in Ron-maybe too much-so the family responsibilities usually fell to the older brothers. But with Fred gone…I don't know, maybe Ron decided it was finally time to grow up.

"How's Ginny?" I asked Harry. She had been very quiet, a hollow look in her eyes, and stayed very close to her mother.

With a deep sigh, Harry replied, "She's sitting with Tonks's mum. She was holding Teddy when I came over here."

Ginny took quite a shine to Teddy immediately. When Harry, Ron, and I were on the run hunting for the Horcruxes we didn't send word to anyone where we were. Only Bill and Fleur heard anything because of Ron's little hissy fit, but they kept their words not to tell anyone else where we were. My theory was that Teddy, being Harry's godson, was her link to Harry during the months they were apart.

His voice broke into my musings. "What's the matter, Hermione? You've been acting…weird ever since we got here. Did something happen?"

"Harry…if I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone? Not even Ginny? Ever?" I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, not daring to look up in the fear that I would begin sobbing again. It had been the first thing that came into my mind when the news that Fred was dead reached my ears. I pushed it away, but it refused to be abated, growing stronger and stronger until I felt like it was smothering me.

I think Harry recognized the desperation in my voice. Eyes widening, he bobbed his head furiously and swore that he'd never repeat what I was about to tell him.

"Do um," I licked my lips nervously, "do you remember, that summer we all stayed at Grimauld Place, how Mrs. Weasley kept trying to separate Fred and George because she knew they were up to something?"

Harry's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Yeah. She kept putting Fred with you and George with me when we cleaned."

Off my eyes lowering to the ground away from his gaze, Harry leaned forward and lowered his voice even though there was no way we could be overheard. "Hermione…do you know…something…about Fred?"

A tear slid down my cheek. Harry was accustomed to secrets. More than anyone else, he recognized that there were things destined to be kept from others. Whether they were too dangerous, too odd, or too personal, they became buried deep within a person until they became a part of them. It was a lesson he'd learned so recently in his quest for the Horcruxes and the Hallows-that the things we take into us and never reveal shape who we are and how others perceive us. Like Snape. And like Dumbledore.

"We were cleaning one day, right after those robes attacked Ron," I began and my vision grew hazy. My mind went back in time almost three years to a time when Voldemort was a threat more than a reality, when Hogwarts still seemed safe, and we all trusted in Dumbledore to protect us.

Back when Fred and I shared a secret that we both swore never to reveal.

A part of me registered my voice telling Harry the story that I had replayed in my head countless times in an attempt to figure out how it had come about.

Fred was a part of my life from the time I was eleven years old, but never in any substantial way. It was more of a background thing-a part of the bigger picture. My housemate. Ron's brother. DA member. Prankster. One of the infamous twins.

However, that summer he became... Fred. A friend. Someone who, in the midst of an upcoming war and Harry's possible expulsion, was determined to keep life as normal as possible. To make us all laugh. To make me laugh.

The days we were paired off to clean the Order headquarters were fraught with dread and tension. And as worried as I always was then, he could always find some simple little way to make me laugh. Ordinarily, Fred and George's jokes were worthy of my eye rolling and tsking as the highest level of immaturity. But I needed the release of the tension so I let myself find them funny and he often wore an expression of pride that he'd made Hogwart's biggest bookworm crack up at what couldn't have been his best material.

Then one day…it all changed.

An old lighter, heavily engraved and ancient, was lying on the sitting room coffee table. It was a new discovery that Ron and Harry had made in their room the day before, but that nobody could open. Fred and I finished in the upstairs cupboard early and wandered down there to wait for Molly to cook dinner. Somehow, he managed to get it open and was rewarded with a nasty burn on his palm.

It was while I was rubbing some of the salve Sirius gave me onto the wound that I realized just how close Fred's face was and he pressed his lips on mine before the thought fully sank in. Ron called from the top of the stairs on his way down and we sprang apart in horror. If Ron had seen us…

Still it went on. We got caught up in the danger and the oppressive air swirling around us and the thrill of a secret and we ignored the repercussions hanging over our heads upon discovery. Hidden trysts and stolen moments seem romantic in books and stories, but for Fred and me…it was merely a way to keep sane and escape from the situation.

Looking back, I'm not sure why we did it. Yes, it was fun. And no, I don't regret it. But sitting in the woods in a vain attempt to escape Fred's funeral, the full weight of the betrayal became clear. What was once our secret became a lie that I was keeping from Ron.

"So do you think I should tell him?" I asked finally. Several minutes had elapsed since I'd finished talking and Harry had yet to utter a word.

"No." The edge in Harry's tone clipped the word short, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"But Harry-"

"No, Hermione." He raised a hand to cut me off. "Ron just lost his brother. His family is trying to put themselves back together. We have to go back to school a year behind our class." He threw a pitying look at me. "You're a good person, Hermione, and I know you hate keeping secrets, but you're one of the only good things Ron has going for him now. If you told him…it would kill him."

"And wed be over before we even began," I finished. He was right. I'd known the whole time I could never tell Ron-that I would have to live my life, with or without him, keeping my secret. Fred's and my secret.

The weight of Harry's hand on my shoulder is comforting. Listening to him walk away, I let my eyes drift over to the scene-an event I never wanted to see. That never should have happened.

Fred was young and energetic. Full of life and mischief, he wanted nothing more in life than to make others laugh. To make them happy. And he should have had the chance to go on doing that. A light like his shouldn't be extinguished so violently or so soon. But he's never going to be forgotten. He's all around us; in George's humor, Ron's recklessness, Ginny's rebellious streak, Charlie's Quidditch skills, Bill's fierce loyalty, Mrs. Weasley's eyes, Mr. Weasley's smile.

He's in Harry's regret and my heart. Catching Ron's eyes as he comes back out of the house behind his older brother, it's easy to see he's in all our hearts.

Always.