Disclaimer: I own no rights to Harry Potter, all goes to JKR.

Chapter Two:

Hermione woke suddenly and sat up quickly, gasping for air. She tried to make sense of her surroundings and then as if petrified, remembered the forty-eight hours that occurred prior to her finally sleeping. She recalled sobbing on Ginny last night and how Ginny has escorted her to Ginny's own dorm and let her sleep in an empty bed. Hermione wondered if the bed was empty because the girl didn't return to Hogwarts in a literal sense or worse, didn't return to Hogwarts in a metaphorical sense. Hermoine once again began to think about the ways in which to identify an Animagus and began practicing the incantation in her mind. Spell-work and theory eased her anxieties considerably.

If she was tightly wound prior to spending a year in a tent, starving, with only Ron and Harry for company, she might as well have been brittle iron by now. The twins had been some of the only ones other than Ron and Harry who could loosen her up. Once again, her mind stumbled over the plural of twins. How was George doing this morning? Where was George? What would they do with Fred's body? How did wizard funerals differ from Muggle ones? To others, Hermione knew she came across as a know it all. The truth is, she truly did want to know it all. The sorting hat had wavered on Ravenclaw for a reason. But then, as it murmured in her ear, wasn't knowledge useless without the practical part? What good was knowing everything if you couldn't use it. This same rationale had helped found Dumbledore's Army but had also grated against Ron the past seven years.

Ron. Ronald Billius Weasley. Oh, what a dreadful middle name and she still didn't understand wizarding needs for alliterative family names, but there was no Weasley in the world that mattered to her as much as Ron did. She smiled slightly at the way he had kissed her and the gentleness in his eyes as they listened to Harry tell them about the Horcrux inside of him. If Hermione was brittle iron, then Ron was the fire that shaped her.

She began to get out of bed and ready for the day. As Hermione made her way to the washroom, she realized with a start that she could shower for as long as she wanted and had no one to hide from. Her pace quickened.

One hour and fifteen minutes later, Hermione made her way to the common room and saw that some people were up. There was no sign of Ron, but Percy, Charlie, and Bill stood talking quietly with Mr. Weasley. Hermoine looked for Harry and wondered if perhaps the boys had gone to get food. She began to make her way to the portrait when she heard her name being called out. As she turned, she saw that it was Percy.

"Have you seen Ron?" he wondered.

"No, I was wondering that myself, actually. How are you doing? How are you all doing? I'm so sorry for your loss", she replied and felt burning in her throat and her vision began to blue. Hold it together, she reminded herself. This was not about her, this was about their brother. Their son.

The Weasley's simply nodded and began to resume their conversation about Fred.

"Molly wants it to be a formal affair, but I don't know if that's what Fred would have wanted", Arthur murmured. Hermione had never seen Mr. Weasley so downtrodden. He seemed to be almost whispering, as if the very act of speaking Fred's name would blow him away.

Bill spoke up in agreement, "He… he always said that he wanted people laughing. Do you know if George… had any idea what his wishes were?"

"Probably, but I doubt he'd tell us right now", Charlie replied.

Percy stood quietly observing. Hermione wondered if he had called her over to not feel so alone with his family. Hermione quietly spoke, "I don't think F..Fred was one for traditions. I think you're right, Mr. Weasley."

He looked as though he was surprised to see Hermione was there, despite speaking to her only minutes ago. Bill, Charlie and Percy nodded in agreement and made sounds of affirmation. Hermione cleared her throat, "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help at all. Fred and George, well… anything I can do to help, I will". Once again, Mr. Weasley could only look at her with shock on his face. Bill cleared his throat. Charlie started looking at Hermione and then back at Bill quickly. What was going on, she began to wonder.

"Hermione, you've already done more than enough. I lost one brother yesterday but if you and Ron and Harry hadn't done whatever it is you had to do, I might have lost them all", Bill said gently.

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Harry was walking next to Ginny back up to the castle. They weren't speaking but Harry didn't even know if he would know what to say if he tried. He pointedly looked at his trainers and grimaced at the grime that coated them. He thought that once he got home, he'd need to buy some new trainers. Harry suddenly stopped walking because this thought gave him two big problems. Firstly, he had no home to return to. Surely not Privet Drive and Grimmauld Place might be hexed to the ground by now. Secondly, even if he had somewhere to go, in what world would he be able to buy anything? He'd ridden a dragon through the roof of his bank.

Ginny had continued walking for a few steps before realizing that Harry had stopped. She turned around with a question on her lips but before she could ask, Harry said, "I'm sorry, I just realized that I have no idea where I'm going". His eyes began to water and shame began to fill him. How could he cry right now in front of Ginny, who never cried? Also, Fred just died. Colin, Remus, Tonks, Lavender, and so many others had died because he wasn't fast enough, wasn't smart enough, had based his planning around the assumption that he was the hero of the story, meant to survive. What horseshit.

As if reading his thoughts, Ginny moved to stand next to Harry again and said, "You're going to come to the Burrow. Mum will feed you until you're three sizes bigger. You're not going back to those Muggles." Harry felt his lips turn upward and began wondering what else he could be doing with them. He turned to Ginny and licked his lips and put one of his hands on her shoulder.

Ginny smiled at him but then, tactfully, side-stepped from his grasp, turned forward and somehow managed to align him in the same direction and kept walking. Harry stumbled after her wondering if he was reading the signs right. He should have known better than to try to kiss her now, not after Fred, not after Hogwarts bled. At the same time, she seemed to be as interested in him as he was in her. She found him didn't she?

Harry shook his head and thought that understanding Ginny might be less favorable than battling Death Eaters. Ginny mumbled almost so quietly that Harry had to turn his head to hear, "It's not that I don't want to. I've missed you so much. It's just… you left, Harry. I knew you had to and I managed to convince everyone here that I was single. I didn't want anyone else, there isn't anyone else for me, but I don't know if I'm ready for you to be for me yet, either". It felt like someone hit him with a blood-chilling curse.

"Of, of course, Ginny", sounded like a reasonable response, didn't it? Then, casting wildly to change the subject, "Do you think your mum would mind if I kipped in Ron's room? His snoring is practically the only thing that lets me fall asleep these days". Ginny snorted softly and looked at him with a small smile.

"Ron's room? Mum practically made it a shrine to you last year, I think she even tried to convince the ghoul to wear a green sweater at one point. It was almost a step up for Ron, really."

This time it was Harry who snorted. She continued, "You're practically like the seventh son to them. You're family."

If he felt like a blood chilling curse had hit him before, this felt like an entrails-repelling curse aimed at his kidneys. Family, he thought weakly. Does she view me as family?

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Hermione was waiting in the Great Hall for supper to be served. Tomorrow morning, she and Harry would go back to the Burrow with the Weasley's. In another two days' time, they would lay Fred to rest and she would then be tasked with going to Sydney to find her parents. Hermione hoped that Ron would be able to join her but she didn't think he'd be able to leave his family behind or worse, explain to them why he wanted to go with her but not Harry, too. She cringed slightly at the upcoming conversation with the matriarch of the Weasley clan about how she and Ron had shared a tent for almost a year. Would she believe her when she said that nothing had happened? Sure, she had glanced a peek while he was changing once but when that prat had stormed out before the holiday, Hermione had willed herself to forget what she had seen. She just remembered that she liked it.

With that, she felt a slight pressure above her knee and turned to see Ron smiling at her.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, just about how I'll manage to bring my parents back", she replied absently.

"What do you mean 'how you'll bring your parents back'", he demanded.

Harry must have kicked him under the table because he grunted and looked a bit sheepish. Harry looked at her with eyes that seemed to say 'I'm sorry that he's so daft' then he continued to drink his pumpkin juice and glance at Ginny. It was a bit odd that Ginny was sitting two seats away and not by Harry but she'd press Ginny for information later. She rounded on Ron, "I mean that my parents, you know, the ones who gave me life and raised me but don't even remember that I exist, are currently in Australia and I mean to remedy that!" Oh, it was such fun taking out some frustration on him. Especially when he blushed.

Ron mumbled, "I know that, Hermoine. I just didn't want you to go alone. I kind of thought, you know, that maybe someone, I don't know, someone could go with you?"

Harry seemed to have heard and asked, "In English, Ron?"

Ron sighed and said more clearly this time, "I thought that we could go together. I don't want you to have to do this alone".

Hermoine felt as if her heart would burst. This was why it was always Ron and Harry. Oh, Harry was such a noble git that he'd never let her go alone either, but Ron, he wanted to be there. He wanted to be with her. She found it adorable that his cheeks were almost the same color as his ears. When she felt her eyes water, Ron quickly grabbed a napkin and handed it to her. She was so glad that the twins had given him that bloody book about charming witches. The twins. Almost as quickly as her heart filled, she felt it began to crack.

In two days, they would be burying a twin. A singular twin. She turned to Harry and asked, "Do you think they'd cover disillusionment charms in Defense Against the Dark Arts or Charms?"

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Harry awoke for the second morning in a row with no nightmares. This puzzled him almost as much as having nightmares, but he decided that sheer exhaustion had run out. Or maybe Mrs. Weasley had drugged him with a calming drought in the hot chocolate he had just before bed. He figured he'd ask Ron about it when he woke up. Suddenly, he heard a rustling to his left. Harry began to steel himself for what he might see if he drew back the curtains around his four-poster bed.

"Oi, some of us might be trying to sleep in here", Harry said.

"Oh really, Harry, as if you'd actually sleep in on a day like today. You probably just woke up and are wondering why I'm in this bed. For your information, I was just coming in to tell you both that the Porkey will be leaving in an hour. Get your mind out of the gutter", came a shrill reply that could only mean one thing. Harry decided to play dumb and pretend that Hermione had not just read his mind. His mind. His mind was finally his own. Would Voldemort have thought about his best friends having sex? Harry shuddered and drew the curtain.

"I actually thought it was Seamus", Harry lied, "I figured he might have come back here with a girl."

"Hmmph" was the only response he got. Ron looked a little more disheveled than typical but then again, he did just lose a brother. And a best friend. And reunited with his long-lost brother. Harry figured he could cut him some slack.

"Actually, I was wondering why Ginny wasn't in here with you? Not that I'd want her to be but you two have barely said three words to each other", Ron answered. Harry decided he couldn't muster up that much sympathy.

"For your information, we had a lovely conversation yesterday morning. But no, she's not up here. I don't even know where she is actually".

Hermione started shifting her eyes between Harry and Ron and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"She said something to you, didn't she?", Harry asked.

"Well. No. Not really anyway. I think you two ought to talk this out. She cares about you deeply, Harry", Hermoine replied. Asked and answered, Harry should have known.

"Oh she cares about me. I think she thinks I'm like a brother to her."

To Hermione's credit, she only looked mildly revolted. Ron on the other hand had jumped up and began pretending to gag. Although, as Harry peered over the rims of his glasses, maybe he really was gagging.

"That's bloody disgusting! That can't be true", Ron said when he finally managed to catch his breath. Harry didn't bother replying since they hadn't spoken since yesterday morning on the lawn. He'd replayed the conversation over and over in his mind and he figured it was either she wasn't ready to be with him, she didn't want to be with him, or she was into incest and battling the deep repressed feelings of disgust that came with that. Harry felt all three possibilities were likely and didn't feel like hearing Hermione discuss them at length.

"We'll talk in a few days. I think that I'd rather just support her, and you, mind you, get through the next couple of days", Harry replied.

Ron started to slowly sit back on his bed and Hermione brought her hand up to his fringe and began combing it out of his eyes. She let her fingers rest in Ron's hair and began twirling some strands in her fingers as she stared off at nothing. Harry was oddly comforted by the gesture. He wondered if Ginny would ever do that to him again. He remembered stolen kisses in the corridors during his sixth year and the way her lips would trace his jawline in the shape of a lightning bolt…

A knock came on the door and it was the voice of Charlie Weasley. "Oi! All you lovebirds in there! Portkey's leaving in twenty minutes and mum will have kittens if you aren't on it."

Harry sighed and stood up and debated if he had time for a shower or not. He settled for a quick charm to clean the clothes piled on the floor next to his bed and he headed into the washroom to get ready for the day. As he closed the door, he heard sniffling noises and didn't know if they were coming from Ron or Hermione.

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The Burrow stood in the distance, looking like a gust of wind might topple it over. The atmosphere in the yard was tense and Harry tried to not think about all those that lay with eyes that wouldn't see again. For some reasons, his thoughts kept returning to Severus Snape. He wanted to forgive the man, really, he did, but the resentment he felt for Professor Snape couldn't be undone. Harry prodded his feelings and was able to acknowledge that while he respected the Professor's bravery, he also could not get past the way he had treated students. Not just Harry, either. He remembered that Neville's greatest fear in third year was Professor Snape and Neville wasn't the product of his deepest love and his greatest enemy. This gave Harry pause. Since Professor Snape knew of the prophecy, was it possible that he loathed Neville for not being Harry? Did he see Neville, the boy who had actually lived, and blamed him for the death of his mum? Despite these troubling thoughts, he felt that at least Severus was at peace now. Maybe his mum would have a few words with him. A small smile crept to his lips when he thought of his mum chewing out the greasy haired Professor. Death doesn't change everything, Harry figured.

The funeral would be in a few hours, in the early afternoon. Since the return to the Burrow, Molly had retreated to her bedroom except for meals, which she cooked with a gusto he hadn't seen since the holiday at Grimmauld Place. Then, she feared for her husband's life. Now, she had lost a son. Harry wondered if he should pick up cooking again. If loss was the passion that drove Mrs. Weasley's cooking, Harry could probably feed an army. He snuck a glance at Ginny.

Their relationship currently, and he mentally scoffed at that term, was cordial at best. They seemed to be dancing around one another. Harry didn't have the heart to ask her right now what she had meant before so they maintained polite discussions at mealtimes and Harry, Ron, and Ginny had taken to flying in the orchard with Charlie and Bill. Percy and Hermione were usually debating the merits of something in the grass. Harry wondered if it would be polite to hold her hand at the funeral. Fred had been like a brother to him as well and the thought that George was alone now made Harry want to walk back into the forest and offer to trade places.

George was not at meals. George was upstairs in the room he had shared with Fred almost his entire life and meal trays were left abandoned by the door. Harry had seem him only once in the past few days and that was going to the bathroom. They had almost walked into each other on the landing and George had stared at Harry. He had apologized to George, put his head down, and taken the stairs up to Ron's room two at a time after that. George must blame him. If he was being truthful with himself, he was wondering why the rest of Ron's family wasn't blaming him, either. Harry had brought a battle to them. Yes, they had won and yes, Harry had died trying to end it, but the difference was that Harry came back and Fred hadn't.

He turned and listened to Bill talk about pall-bearers. He vaguely realized that he was meant to be one, standing across from Ron. It would be the five remaining brothers, Harry, and Lee Jordan, from Hogwarts trailing behind escorting Ginny while Mr. Weasley would hold his wife.

Suddenly Bill stopped talking and stared at the back door with his mouth slightly ajar. Harry turned and fingered his wand, afraid for what he'd see but instead he just saw George in bright magenta robes, his hair slicked back almost at bad as Malfoy's, and a bright orange flower pinned to his robes. George strode over to the group of brothers (and Harry, especially since his conversation with Ginny, he had wanted to differentiate himself somehow, brothers in all but blood and that was a crucial difference) and asked, "Where am I supposed to stand?"

Bill seemed to pause for a second and then he just burst out laughing. Charlie followed suit and was laughing so hard he was slapping his knees. Harry even saw Percy's lips twitching and Ron was chuckling as he threw his arm around George.

"Out with a bang, eh?"

George smiled and said, "For this. Fred wouldn't have wanted us moping about in the lawn looking like regular old Garden gnomes. I can at least give my better half the send-off he deserves. Speaking of standing, do you know which direction in the sky we'll be facing?"

Charlie said, "Do we even want to know?" at the same time that Ron asked, "Going to use those wicked firecrackers?"

Bill, ever the eldest told George they'd be facing West. Harry felt his shoulders relax by an inch and hadn't even realized how tense he'd been until everyone had laughed. No, George wasn't okay yet. He wouldn't be okay for awhile, but Harry had to respect the man for pulling it together for this. He also had to agree that somewhere, Fred was probably laughing, most likely with Sirius, at the fact his brother had a flower on his lapel that kept burping every other minute.