Preparing to say goodbye
She rolled out of her bed onto the floor with an oomph. Tears were already burning in her eyes as she realised what day it was. It had been 2 years – she could remember the exact minute it happened.
She startled when a fist pounded at her bedroom door. No sooner than knocking, Harry barged into her room, already knowing how difficult this day would be for her. It always was hard, for everyone really, but as he discovered last year, May 2nd was always the worst for Hermione. Of course it was. The poor girl lost the man she loved. He started walking over to her shaking form on the floor and wrapped her up in his arms. They stayed like that for a while. It was nice, she supposed, to have someone there for her like Harry was. Sobbing into his shoulder, she thought about him. It hadn't got much easier over time, but then not much time had passed in the grand scheme of things.
"I miss him too 'Mione," he whispered in her ear as small sobs left her mouth. "Come on love, Ginny is downstairs, we're taking you to the burrow today, Molly's been asking after you." He left no time for disagreement as he lifted her to her feet and guided her downstairs and into the arms of his wife. Ginny walked them into the fireplace and called out for the burrow, Harry quickly following suit.
Immediately, Hermione was scooped up into some very familiar arms. Arms she had drawn comfort from regularly. At the many, many funerals they had to attend following the war, and most importantly, at his funeral. Hermione breathed in the soft scent of sandalwood, gunpowder and cinnamon, relaxing almost immediately; her sobs quieted into small sniffles, and the familiar man pulled her onto the sofa with him and settled her into his lap.
"I don't know what to do, Freddie…" she spoke in a remarkably small voice, slightly raspy given she had yet to say anything to anyone today.
"Shh, sweet girl, I know, I know. You are allowed to mourn him, Hermione. You are allowed to miss him, and to remember him, and to feel sad. Of course you are, but you can't let these feelings eat away at you like this. Not again. This is exactly what you did last year! You didn't speak to anyone for weeks before the anniversary, and Harry and Ginny had to drag you out of your flat and bring you here!" Fred's voice began picking up as he got further into his speech, his worry and frustration with her bottling up her feelings bursting out of him a little. She cuddled into him more, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck and sighing. Hermione nodded and squeezed him a little tighter.
They sat for a while, taking no notice of the rest of the family who were observing the scene with soft looks on their faces. Particularly George. But he knew Fred better than he knew himself, especially when it came to pretty witches and supressed feelings.
"Ok, love, we're going for a twin sandwich now," George whispered as he sat next to his twin and wrapped his arms around her. She chuckled softly, and the prankster took it as a win, after all, the Weasleys barely saw the little with laugh these days. Not since… Well, not since he died.
The silence of the room quickly grew thick with grief and tears began to roll down the faces of the large family. There was a large, Ron-shaped hole in everyone's hearts now; but ever since then, it felt like sometimes, Hermione died that day too. She never laughed, and she rarely smiled. The only people who could consistently be counted upon to even raise her spirits to neutral were Harry, George and Fred. They weren't blind though, everyone except Hermione and Fred knew that Fred always put in the biggest effort to try and make the heartbroken witch smile, and they could easily tell that Fred was the most successful at cheering her up.
"Hermione dear," Molly spoke softly, "We've missed you, my darling." With that, Hermione struggled her way out of the twin sandwich and threw herself into her surrogate mother's awaiting arms. Soon, a ginger swarm surrounded her in a huge cuddle, and she began to cry again.
Dinner was a sombre affair that night, everybody's eyes flicking to the vacant seat at the table and remembering who should have filled it. Arthur cleared his throat loudly and raised his tumbler of firewhiskey, "To Ron," he announced. "To Ron" was murmured around the table afterwards and long drinks were taken.
"Freddie, will you come with me to his grave tonight, I can't do it alone, but it is time for me to say a true goodbye" Hermione whispered into Fred's ear. He nodded at her and squeezed her leg in a show of support.
"I think I should be making tracks now, I'm awfully tired. Mrs We – sorry… Molly, dinner was delicious, thank you…" Hermione announced to the table as she excused herself and walked into the garden to get to the apparition point.
"I'm going with her to Ron's grave, she didn't want to go alone" Fred said as everyone looked up at him in mild surprise when he jumped up to follow her.
"You make sure our Hermione says goodbye, Fred" was the last thing he heard from Arthur as he left to go to the apparition point.