I do not own harry potter or any places or characters involved.

Enjoy!

I sit on my bed not knowing what to do. Tears flow freely on my cheeks and my eyes are red and puffy. It's been 2 days since he passed away and I still haven't been outside this room.

I don't eat. Cry myself to sleep every night. Stay in my battle clothes. It's as if I'm not living anymore. A gently knock on the door and I go under the covers so no one will talk to me. But whoever is there still comes in and sits on the bed. I turn around to find George looking grim and lifeless.

"'Mione, he wouldn't want that." He whispers

"I know" I manage to say "but I don't know what I should do. I'm lost George."

"One thing you shouldn't do I stay lifeless. You haven't eaten anything in 2 days. You look pale and too skinny. Come downstairs."

"I can't."

With that he stands up and takes my hand.

"'Mione, he loved you like he'd never loved anyone. I know you feel like there will be no tomorrow since he's gone. But listen, Fred wouldn't want you to sit on a bed all day crying yourself to sleep. Come back to life. For Fred at least."

"I'm sorry George. I want to stand up and go about as usual, but today's not the day. I'm also sorry because you were his second half and you still try and stay alive. It just seems like I can't do that."

"Okay 'Mione." George said "I'll come back tomorrow."

So that night, I cried myself to sleep. Not because Fred had gone, but because George would have to live without being whole. And that wrenched my heart.

I wake up to the smell of waffles and as I open my eyes, I see George next to me. He offers one and I take it. But just after one bite, I rush to the bathroom to get it out again. George sat on the bed and put his face in his hands as salted pearls rolled down his cheeks.

"Tell me George, what's it like to wake up in the morning now?" I ask timidly

"It's hard. Before I wake up, I think about Fred, and all our times together and that makes waking up easier because I can still imagine he's there. But when I do wake up, I realise it will never be true, that he will never be there again.

The hardest is talking and looking in mirrors because I hear and see him. He's gone, and I feel like I should be gone too. But that's not how it works."

Now tears are streaming down my face. I can't help it, and I finally realise that George has a much harder time than me. So I make a promise to get up next morning and try and live. That's the least I can do for Fred. George and I spend the day talking about Fred and the good moments we spent with him. It helps me say goodbye to him, because I never got a chance to.

"It'll be in a week. Hermione, please be there. For him, and it'll help you let go and help you say goodbye properly." George says.

Then, the night comes and George leaves, and I'm left with my sorrow again. So once again, I cry without stopping, until the sorrow is too much and I go to sleep. Sleep is the best part of the day, I get to see Fred again, smiling and laughing and the whole Weasley family is happy. But dreams don't often come true, and this one most certainly won't.

In the morning, I can't do it. I just stay in bed and lock my door so no one can come in. It still too hard and I can't do it. But I promise myself that I will wake up the next day. But the next day comes and I still don't come out of the room. Fred. He was a true Gryffindor, and here I am cowering in my room. So tomorrow is the day I'll get out.

Tomorrow comes so I wake up and remember all the times with Fred. For once, I manage a weak smile instead of heavy flowing tears. So I get out of bed and open the door to the corridor. The Weasleys must all be awake because I can hear bustling downstairs. I take my courage in two hands and make my way down. It seems like ages until I get to the bottom. And when I do I am engulfed in a rib breaking hug. And there is Fred, no George. George is there with a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Thank you 'Mione. For getting stronger for him. Try and stay alive for him, and for me."

For once, I don't need to force a smile on my face, it comes naturally.

I slowly walk to the kitchen, but hesitate at the door. What if they don't want me there anymore? What if they're mad at me for locking myself up? George comes behind me and takes me by the hand like Fred had done so many times.

When I appear Mrs Weasley comes and takes care of me. She tries to get me to eat as I must have lost some weight for the week of starvation. I bite in a toast and swallow. Nothing comes back up, so I help myself to a bit of food. Everyone is looking at me worriedly, and that's when I realise that I am crying. It's as if I never stop. But they're not tears of pain, grief or sorrow. They're tears of relief. I finish eating my toast and I feel completely full. I stay downstairs though, and listen to the Weasley family talking. It could have been almost the same, except that everyone looked tired and grief stricken. It wasn't the happy family that once was, but with time, it might become whole again.

I'll write another chapter for the funeral and for the life after the funeral.

TheFanFicGirl