The Wedding and the War
A Fremione Fanfic.
I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.
Chapter 1:
Ron lay in his cot, his face caught in the glow of the small, makeshift lantern Hermione had conjured up with her wand and a mason jar to contain the flame. A breeze rustled the tent walls gently and there was only the noise of Hermione flipping lazily through pages of her books, a snitch fluttering half-heartedly between Harry's hands and the soft background noise of the trio's transistor radio. The station was broadcasting soulful blues guitar.
Ron gazed at Hermione. As she poured over her book, her curly hair fell onto the pages. Beside the book there was a leaf of paper covered in scribbles and symbols and above it she held a quill, ready for note taking should she have any breakthroughs. Ron noticed she thumbed the top left corner of the page mindlessly, which all seemed to be browning and wearing from the friction. It was a cute, thoughtful habit.
The song had ended and the announcer's voice came on, weary and saddened. "It's that time of day again, ladies and gentlemen. Here's your list of the bravely departed." And he began. Every back in the tent stiffened and Ron stretched forward quickly to turn up the volume, but rather than putting it down, he clung to it and stared intently at the speakers.
As soon as the announcer's voice came on, Hermione strained her ears and prayed she didn't hear any of the names on her list of loved ones. Even with her parents' minds obliviated and them vacationing in Australia, she couldn't be sure of their safety, although their chances were higher than most. She prayed hardest for the Weasley family. They were the ones she was most afraid for. She had Ron and Harry with her so she knew they were safe. And while there were schoolmates and professors she feared for, her most desperate concern was for the family that had housed her on breaks, given her gifts like she was one of their own children and taken care of her when she was in the most need of it after the increasingly dangerous incidents she had had with Harry and Ron.
As the announcer came to the alphabetization of the W's, Hermione's body shook with the intensity of all her muscles straining to hold her together. Without knowing it, she too had turned to the radio and was on the edge of her bench, her knuckles held a white grip on the seat.
Ginny, her dear friend and most missed correspondent, her hand trembled with the fear of hearing her name. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a second set of parents, she shut her eyes to try to block imagining the pain at losing them. George, like a mischevious older brother, she held her breath. And Fred…her heart stopped. Had the announcer said it? Even Ron's face had grown pale. But then his face relaxed and she realized the name had been Frank Wesley.
Her mouth was dry and as she swallowed her fear away she caught Ron's eye. He looked at her with relief in his face and his eyes looked at her tenderly if only for a moment before looking down shyly, turning the volume back down as the announcer put on another record. Hermione retreated to her book. She felt almost ashamed of the look of tenderness Ron had given her.
She tried to read from the book that Dumbledore had given her, but they were children's stories. They were repetitive and childish and she'd read them a thousand times before. She could do nothing but stare at the letters on the page and think of Fred.