Here's what I most want you to know; this really is as bad as you think.
No matter what anyone else says, this sucks. What happened cannot be made right. What is lost cannot be restored. There is no beauty here, inside this central fact.
Acknowledgment is everything.
You're in pain. It can't be made better.
The reality of grief is far different from what others see from the outside. There is pain in this world that you can't be cheered out of.
You don't need solutions. You don't need to move on from your grief. You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it. You need someone to hold your hands while you stand there in blinking horror, staring at the hole that was your life.
Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.
Megan Devine, first page of 'It's OK That You're Not OK'
The room slowly filled with the soft pink glow from the morning sun, making everything in Hermione's bedroom seem much too bright and much too cheerful for the day: Rose's seventh birthday. Another year had passed since she'd come into the world, another year marking that beautiful day that Hermione once again wouldn't be able to spend with her. To celebrate her ageing and growing from a curious baby to a loving child, and eventually a thoughtful adult.
However, that had been taken from her. And as the day came, Hermione laid in bed, looking at the ceiling that Theo had charmed to change with the time of the day. Rolling to her stomach, Hermione pushed her face into her pillow and let out a gut-wrenching scream. The tears poured down her face as she tried to imagine what her life should be like, and not as it was.
Her family of six, not five, happily waking up to the manor decorated with whatever Rose loved. Hermione couldn't even try to imagine what that would be. The girls, her only point of reference, at fourteen months old, were already so different from each other. Iris, inheriting her mother and Papa's thirst for knowledge, already spent most of her time in the library happily flipping through any book with pictures she could find. Stella, however, was a wild child. Running with Scorpius, chasing the peacocks and squealing with joy anytime Draco took her up on his broom.
It wasn't just the pain of losing her baby, but the entire future that had alerted with her death. Everything that would have come with her being there and being a part of their daily lives.
She mourned for the little girl who would never be, and the witch that would have been a force to be reckoned with had she been awarded the opportunity. Sometimes she wondered if Rose had been Draco and Theo's daughter in the first place, would she have lived? Would their resources and powerful personalities have made the difference in keeping saving Rose's life? She'd never know though, would she.
She took deep breaths, attempting to calm herself, but to no avail. It was no use, because everything was wrong. Nothing was going to bring Rose back, no amount of wanting or begging. She was gone, and as the years passed, it felt like her short life had been nothing more than a dream. The more people who came into Hermione's life, never having gotten to meet her daughter, the clearer the distance in time became.
Her body shook as the tears continued, because despite her best efforts, she felt like she'd failed. She had this new family, none of whom had ever gotten to meet Rose, but knew of her. While her husbands were supportive and never shied away from letting her speak about Rose, she knew that the concept confused Scorpius, and the same would be true for the girls.
The pictures and stories of their older sister would never actually connect them to her, and there was nothing she could do about it. They would never see her smile or make her laugh. It was a whole other loss within this one.
Hermione laid in bed for what felt like hours, and it must have been because when she rolled to her back and looked up the room was filled with sunlight. Pulling herself from the blankets she was wrapped in felt like it took all the energy she had inside herself, but she did it. The self-isolation could only last for so long. She still had three other children who would not only want to see her, but she craved their presence as well. Their hugs, the smell of their hair, and the sound of their laughter. They could never, would never, replace Rose, but they helped.
She dressed slowly, pulling on a simple turtleneck dress and leggings as the weather wasn't the best that day. Walking from her room, Hermione expected to be met with sounds of the children eating their lunch, as it was that time. Though, nearing the kitchen she found the halls were still quiet. Hermione wondered if maybe Draco and Theo had thought to take the kids out for the morning while she had a lay in and would be back soon.
Accepting that was most likely the case, Hermione continued to the kitchen. She pulled out just a few chopped pieces of celery and a jar of peanut butter, dipping one end straight into the jar. Even though she'd missed breakfast, the weight of the day kept her hunger at bay. Only knowing that she needed to eat something pushed her forwards as she felt the crunch of the vegetable between her teeth.
Her mind wandered again, trying to picture herself waking up with a smile on her face on this day when a pecking at the window pulled her back to reality. She recognized the little owl as Luna's, wondering what on earth the witch might be writing her for. Knowing that there was always a reason for everything the blonde did, Hermione didn't hesitate to allow the bird inside.
Much like his owner, the little owl with remarkably large eyes (even for an owl) floated inside the small space without a care in the world. "Hello, Ovid. I suppose your mistress is worried about me?" Hermione asked, holding out a treat towards the bird who only slowly blinked as if confused about what Hermione was offering him.
When he still didn't take the offered food, Hermione set it to the side and reached for the small letter attached to his leg. She scanned the note, a brow raised in confusion before setting it aside and scratching the little bird that had wandered off to stare blankly at her little indoor window herb garden. "It seems I'm being requested to join everyone in Hogsmeade, shall I leave the window open for you?" She pet the bird again, but he didn't seem to even register the touch or that she'd spoken. "Alright, I might see you later then." Hermione murmured before leaving the room, with one glance back at the still unmoving item, causing her to shake her head.
Only Luna would see the value in having an owl that couldn't stay on task.
Hermione used the floo, going straight into the Three Broomsticks, stretching her back as she walked out of the hearth. Seamus Finnigan, the new pub owner, smiled and waved when he saw her. Hermione nodded her head in acknowledgment, but nothing more. He was one of Ron's closest friends, and today was not the day Hermione wanted to hear anything about her ex-husband.
Hermione pulled her scarf up, so that her ears were covered as she stepped out into the chilly day and began to walk towards the end of the main road just as Luna had instructed her to do. It was a Friday, so none of the students or staff from Hogwarts were out, but the streets still had a decent sized crowd for midday.
As she came to the end of the main road, Hermione had to squint her eyes due to the sunlight shining down upon her. Looking around, Hermione searched for her family along with Harry and Luna's when she felt a small body slamming into her legs.
"Come on, mummy!" Scorpius exclaimed, taking her hand and dragging her into the still blinding light. "We've been waiting ages for you to get here. Ovid must have gotten lost, daddy told Aunt Luna not to use him, but she insisted he was the right owl for the job."
"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, slow down, I can't see where I'm going!" Hermione chided him, but her laugh gave her away as he continued to drag her behind him.
"That's the point, mum. Okay go ahead and stop. There's a bench for you to sit down." He pushed her legs until she toppled into the seat he'd mentioned, but the rest of his sentence didn't make any sense.
"Scorpius?" Hermione called out, the light still obscuring her vision, though now she realised that it was purposeful and not just the time of day. "Scorpius, where did you go?"
"I'm right here, mum," his voice came from behind her now, and on instinct, Hermione turned towards him. When she blinked her eyes, her sight began to clear and standing in front of her was her family. Theo held Stella with her white hair sticking in every direction while Draco cradled Iris who was perfectly put together with a little blue ribbon in her dark curls and Scorpius now stood in front of them, a wide smile showing off his dimple.
With them were Harry, Luna, and their two boys, but also Neville, Hannah, and their little girl. Scorpius, in the centre of the group, had his hands held behind his back as he bounced on the balls of his feet. His eagerness was contagious, only making the anticipation grow.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked, making eye contact with everyone, her grin growing along with theirs. "What are we doing in Hogsmeade?"
Theo and Draco handed each girl off to Harry and Luna, before walking towards Hermione together, their hands clasped between them. She smiled as they drew near, the love she had for them only enhanced when she saw them showing affection to one another. Once they were close enough to kiss her, she asked again, causing the men to exchange a look.
"We wanted to do something special for you and Rose for her birthday." Draco said, standing upright.
"We thought the wizarding world ought to know and love her, and what better way than this." Theo murmured against her temple. His warm breath sent a shiver down her spine and when the men separated, the bright light dimmed, and Hermione's breath caught at what stood behind them.
'The Rose Anne Weasley Children's Library' had almost a cottage look to it. With climbing roses and vines growing up the front and the exposed dark wood framing the large windows of the cream coloured building, it was just beautiful, it was breath taking.
Next to the entrance stood a fountain of a little girl with wild curls sitting on a log blowing bubbles into the air that would change into shimmering butterflies that floated off into the sky. Every now and then, the girl would let out a giggle, reaching for the bubbles before looking over her shoulder at the passer byers on the street then returning to her game.
"How– when–" Hermione couldn't finish a sentence, the tears welling up in her eyes and her hands shaking.
"That's the beauty of being a house husband," Theo answered, reaching out to wipe away the tears with his thumb. "Stella is very handy with a hammer." Hermione laughed at the bad joke before the emotions of their gesture overtook her.
Her head fell into her hands, and she was thankful that Scorpius had made her sit before the library had been revealed to her. Her daughter, with her beautiful life and innocent soul. Then there were these two men, who had never met her, but loved her so much that they wanted to honour her memory and for the entire wizarding world to know of her.
"How can I ever thank you?" Hermione asked, lifting her head so that she was looking into the faces of the men that she held so near and dear.
"You don't," Draco started, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"And you'll never have to," Theo finished, squeezing her arm.
At that moment, Harry and Luna released the girls, who toddled on wobbly legs over to their parents with Scorpius trailing closely behind them. The fountain with the sculpture of Rose chose that moment to look over her shoulder, and when she spotted Hermione, the grin on her face grew larger than it had been as she clapped. Putting both hands over her mouth, she blew a kiss in Hermione's direction before smiling once more.
Hermione stood from the bench, and came around, squatting down to wrap her arms around her three children. Her knees sank into the ground as they all clambered into her lap, but the cold biting through her leggings didn't bother her. Hermione pressed kisses to the tops of each of their heads and felt the warm embrace as each of her husbands came to the ground to hold her and their children as well.
And while her life would never be what she'd forever dream of, she could still find peace in the life she'd built. The broken pieces fitting together, and even with the cracks showing, Hermione could feel her heart swelling with all the love that surrounded her. Because, though she was not with them, the short life of Rose Weasley would never be forgotten.
The End
A/N: And that's it. October 15th is pregnancy and infant loss awareness day, so it was fitting that the final chapter would be published today.
Thank you all for reading and for all the love and support you've given over these last five months.
