Chapter Three

Hermione heard the patter of small feet against the hardwood floor. She turned, and saw Rose looking at her, with a skeptical look. Hermione held back a grin; it was a look that she knew well. Rose hadn't just inherited her brains. She had also inherited Hermione's facial expressions. Hermione wiped her hands on a wash cloth, and waited for Rose to say something. It was of no use to try to talk to her first. She was the kind of person who wouldn't divulge information when someone asked or wanted it. She only spoke when she felt like it was something to be shared. It was a waiting game, for all her family. They had to wait around, for her to tell them. But patience was a virtue, and one only had to have some, before Rose would speak. So Hermione simply pretended not to notice that Rose had something on her mind. So she simply started cleaning a little, and putting things away. She heard Rose sigh, and knew that in a few moments Rose would say what was on her mind. "Mum?" Rose asked. Hermione grinned, her back still to Rose.

"Hmm?" She replied, back still turned. There was silence, where there should have been talking. Usually, around now, Rose would begin speaking. So Hermione turned around, and was surprised at the sight in front of her. Rose was scrunched up on the chair, and her nose was a little scrunched. That was sign that something was wrong. Rose only scrunched her nose when she was upset. "What is it honey?" Rose wiped her face with her hand.

"Mum? Does Dad not love me anymore?" Rose asked, her voice small. Hermione was so shocked that she couldn't say anything.

"What? That's ridiculous! Why would you even think that?" She finally managed to choke out. She examined Rose carefully. It was only then that Hermione realized that Rose was clasping a book tightly to her chest. It wasn't uncommon to see the eight year old with a book. It reminded Hermione, of when she was the same age. She was never seen without a book. But when she looked closer, she realized that it wasn't a book that Rose was clutching. It was a photo album. One that she thought was hidden in the far back of the closet. It was never supposed to be taken out of the closet. Well, at least the children were never supposed to take it out. They never supposed to know about it until Ron and Hermione felt that they were ready to understand. "Honey, where'd you get that from?" She asked. Rose seemed to shrink in the chair. She clutched the photo album closer, but said nothing. Hermione gave her a stern look, and Rose appeared to be trying to blend in with the fabric of the chair. "Rose Nymphadora Weasley, I asked you where you got that."

"From your closet. Hugo and I were playing hide and go seek." Rose said, not looking at Hermione.

"How many times have I told you not to go in there?" Rose hung her head, and attempted to slip off the chair. Hermione stopped her. "Why do you think that Dad doesn't love you anymore?" Rose sat back in the chair, looking dejected.

"Well, I found this, and looked through the pictures. There were a lot of you and Dad. And a lot of kissing ones." Rose made a face that clearly said 'ew'. " And then I saw some with Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle George, Uncle Percy, Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie. And then there was the strangest thing, Mum. There was a double of Uncle George. Even though the double was wearing different colored robes. I tried to talk to Dad about it, but he got really mad. He yelled at me, and told me never to ask again." Rose was starting to cry now. "And he yelled at Hugo too, because I told him. Does Daddy not love us anymore?" Hermione grabbed Rose by the hand, and led her upstairs. She found six year old Hugo in his room, face down, crying. She gently coerced him into sitting up. Then, she put an arm around both of them.

"Dad doesn't hate you, he's just in a lot pain." Hermione said. Both children looked at her, with confusion written all over their faces. "That picture, with Uncle George, there wasn't a duplicate. It was someone completely else."

"Mum, that makes no sense. There's only one Uncle George." Rose protested. Hermione smoothed Rose's hair with her hand.

"You're right honey. There aren't two Uncle George's. The "duplicate" was Uncle Fred."

"Like a twin Mummy? There's twins in my class, I can't tell the difference between them." Hugo said. Hermione smiled at her son. He was more like Ron than he was like her, but he did catch onto things quickly.

"Yes, honey. Exactly like twins. They were twins."

"What happened to Uncle Fred." Rose asked. Hermione hesitated, not knowing if Rose and Hugo were ready. But they were going to find out soon enough anyway. Rose was smart, and was going to read it in a book some time or another.

"He died. A long time before either of you were born." She waited for the outburst, of crying. Or them being shocked. Instead, Rose and Hugo just said,

"Oh." And then each left the room, ready to explore something new. She thought that she had dodged a bullet. But, later that night, she heard something interesting.

Ron was tucking Rose in, and she was staring at him, intensely. "What?" he asked, concerned. "Do I have something on my face?" he said, wiping his mouth and cheeks with his hand. Rose laughed.

"No, nothing like that."

"Then what Rosie?" Ron asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hermione positioned herself next to the door, where she could see into the room, but they couldn't see her. Rose had a look on her face that Hermione was familiar with. It was a look that said she was trying to think of what to say, but didn't want it come out wrong. Ron recognized the look as well, and patted her knee. "Come on Rosie. You can tell me anything." Rose took a deep breath.

"Dad, you believe in heaven right?" Ron seemed taken aback, but nodded. "Then why are you sad that Uncle Fred died? He's in heaven, right?"

"Of course he is."

"Then why are you and Mummy sad? You said that heaven's a beautiful place. Even more pretty than home."

"That's right honey, but we wish that Uncle Fred hadn't gone to heaven without us." Rose contemplated this for a moment. Then her eyes light up. She patted Ron's arm in excitement.

"Daddy, when we go to heaven we won't be lonely. Cause Uncle Fred will already be there."

"You're right honey." Ron said. He kissed her good night, and then turned off the light. Rose turned, and snuggled into her pillow. When Ron exited the room, he immediately saw Hermione. She enveloped him in a hug, and he cried. "Our daughter's more wise than a lot of us." He said. Hermione patted his back.

"I know."

A/N: Had a similar experience, I lost my brother when I was six. I hope this was tear jerking. What do you guys think?