Disclaimer: I don't own Harry James Potter, nor Hermione Granger or Ron Weasley. -shrug-
Bridgett looked very beautiful and peaceful. Her gray eyes were shut, and a bundle of roses were laid across her chest. She was in a long white dress, her hair sprawled throughout the coffin. Hermione stared at her still chest, wishing that, somehow, that maybe if she wished hard enough, it would start moving up and down. It didn't.
Ron, in his best suit and tie, appeared beside Hermione and took her hand. Hermione was still looking upon her friend, that would never giggle or cuss or squeal about guys again.
"It's a shame." Ron whispered hoarsely. Hermione nodded. Now with Ron here, she was afraid she would start crying. She could feel the tears in the back of her eyes. With Ron, it always made it so easy to cry.
Ron wrapped his arms around her, and they embraced for a very long time. She finally broke down, and started sobbing uncontrollably into Ron's chest. He was stroking her back, and telling her it would be okay, that it would all be over soon.
Soon, a presence was felt that made them break apart. Ron and Hermione looked into the pale blue eyes of professor Dumbledore.
"Bridgett and Fred Weasley brought it upon themselves." He stated, looking down onto the dead girl in the coffin. Dumbledore sighed.
"What?!?" Ron asked, startling Hermione. Dumbledore looked quite surprised too.
"Ron, they shouldn't have been out near the woods at nearly midnight. They know the rules. It is dangerous at that time of night. They were responsible enough to know that." Organ music began playing, signaling the start of the service. Ron gave a look to Dumbledore that one should never do, grabbed Hermione's hand, and went to take his seat.
*
Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, looking over at the empty one next to her. It had been Bridgett's, and the covers were still rumpled. Even a t-shirt of Bridgett's lay in a heap on the pillow. Hermione took a deep, shaky breath, and got up. She stood over the bed, lingered there for a minute, then collapsed onto the softness of the covers. She breathed in the scent of her friend, that was sure to ware away in a couple of days. It was the scent of her perfume. Hermione remembered it, as Bridgett had practically drowned her in it one evening.
"Try some, Herms! You should smell nice for the dinner." Bridgett had insisted, spraying half the bottle on Hermione's neck.
Hermione ran her fingers over the sheets, and felt fresh, warm tears roll off her cheeks. They splattered onto the bed slowly, like precious rain drops, washing away the last of Bridgett's spirit and putting her to rest.
Hermione cried for the rest of the night. As Pansy entered the room later that day, she found herself at Hermione's side as well. Both girls embraced on the bed, comforting each other, and talked about all the good times they had all had in that dorm together. For the very last times.
*
Bridgett looked very beautiful and peaceful. Her gray eyes were shut, and a bundle of roses were laid across her chest. She was in a long white dress, her hair sprawled throughout the coffin. Hermione stared at her still chest, wishing that, somehow, that maybe if she wished hard enough, it would start moving up and down. It didn't.
Ron, in his best suit and tie, appeared beside Hermione and took her hand. Hermione was still looking upon her friend, that would never giggle or cuss or squeal about guys again.
"It's a shame." Ron whispered hoarsely. Hermione nodded. Now with Ron here, she was afraid she would start crying. She could feel the tears in the back of her eyes. With Ron, it always made it so easy to cry.
Ron wrapped his arms around her, and they embraced for a very long time. She finally broke down, and started sobbing uncontrollably into Ron's chest. He was stroking her back, and telling her it would be okay, that it would all be over soon.
Soon, a presence was felt that made them break apart. Ron and Hermione looked into the pale blue eyes of professor Dumbledore.
"Bridgett and Fred Weasley brought it upon themselves." He stated, looking down onto the dead girl in the coffin. Dumbledore sighed.
"What?!?" Ron asked, startling Hermione. Dumbledore looked quite surprised too.
"Ron, they shouldn't have been out near the woods at nearly midnight. They know the rules. It is dangerous at that time of night. They were responsible enough to know that." Organ music began playing, signaling the start of the service. Ron gave a look to Dumbledore that one should never do, grabbed Hermione's hand, and went to take his seat.
*
Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, looking over at the empty one next to her. It had been Bridgett's, and the covers were still rumpled. Even a t-shirt of Bridgett's lay in a heap on the pillow. Hermione took a deep, shaky breath, and got up. She stood over the bed, lingered there for a minute, then collapsed onto the softness of the covers. She breathed in the scent of her friend, that was sure to ware away in a couple of days. It was the scent of her perfume. Hermione remembered it, as Bridgett had practically drowned her in it one evening.
"Try some, Herms! You should smell nice for the dinner." Bridgett had insisted, spraying half the bottle on Hermione's neck.
Hermione ran her fingers over the sheets, and felt fresh, warm tears roll off her cheeks. They splattered onto the bed slowly, like precious rain drops, washing away the last of Bridgett's spirit and putting her to rest.
Hermione cried for the rest of the night. As Pansy entered the room later that day, she found herself at Hermione's side as well. Both girls embraced on the bed, comforting each other, and talked about all the good times they had all had in that dorm together. For the very last times.
*