When Hermione awoke the next morning, she found herself in the strong arms
of the love of her life, in the middle of the common room. For a second she
was happy about this, but the sudden reality of why she was laying there
pierced her mind. Her father, her Dad, Daddy, one of the most important men
in her life, had died.
It all just seemed so unreal. She needed to think. To look over the letter again. Maybe there had been a mistake. Maybe Ron had read it wrong. He was always doing things wrong she thought.
Hoping against all odds, she meticulously got off Ron, and grabbed the letter. Thinking it would be best for her to read it outside, since she didn't want to wake Ron.
*~*
Upon reaching the school grounds, Hermione looked for a good place to sit and read. It was now late March, so the ground was somewhat soft from the snow that had just melted away completely a week ago. Wishing not to get any dirt on her clothes, Hermione chose to sit on the bench placed by the lake that was surrounded with her favorite flower; white roses. ( (They magically stay there all year, fyi)
She took a deep breath, and opened the letter.
Dear Hermione,
I first want to tell you that I'm all right. And that I will always love you.
Tonight, tonight our house was attacked by death eaters.
And, as you already know, all wonderful things must, must eventually come to an end.
There is no easy way for me to say this, but I feel that I must tell you this bluntly.
Hermione honey, (This was it, the moment of truth, thought Hermione.)
Your, your father was killed.
Hermione read it over and over and over until it finally sunk in that her dad really was dead. Hermione looked back down at the letter, and then realized that Ron hadn't finished what had been written. So, she continued to read, tears stinging her eyes.
The funeral will be held on the 1st of May. You know how you're father always loved May Day. Yes, I do, thought Hermione glumly, remembering all the times she had heard a knock on her bedroom door just to open it and find a bushel of white roses. Hermione started to cry harder.
If, if you can't come I understand. But it would mean so very much to me, and to your father.
I will tell you then, about where I'm staying, and the other news that I had just received before the attack.
It just doesn't seem appropriate to tell you now.
And I want you to invite your friends to come along to. I think they would help you get through this better.
Love you with all my heart.
XO,
Mum.
By the time Hermione had finished the letter tears were cascading down her face. She didn't want to go to the funeral. It would make it final that her dad wasn't coming back. She didn't want to make it final. Her mother would understand, she had said so. Her mother didn't know how bad she felt. No one did.
Her mother. Something about that fraise had stirred something in her memory of the letter. She read it again. Tears still falling.
Her mother had told her to bring her friends. To comfort HER. It then struck Hermione how much her mother really cared about her. In HER MOTHER'S time of need, she wasn't thinking about how hard it was for Herself, but about how hard it was for Her Daughter.
Thinking about this, Hermione came to the conclusion that she had been self- centered to think that she was the only one feeling pain. Her mother was too, and she needed to be there for her. "But how can I?" she wondered out loud. Hermione knew she could barely handle the situation herself. How would she be able to help her mother if she couldn't even help herself?
*~*
Somewhat depressing I know.
Please review.
It all just seemed so unreal. She needed to think. To look over the letter again. Maybe there had been a mistake. Maybe Ron had read it wrong. He was always doing things wrong she thought.
Hoping against all odds, she meticulously got off Ron, and grabbed the letter. Thinking it would be best for her to read it outside, since she didn't want to wake Ron.
*~*
Upon reaching the school grounds, Hermione looked for a good place to sit and read. It was now late March, so the ground was somewhat soft from the snow that had just melted away completely a week ago. Wishing not to get any dirt on her clothes, Hermione chose to sit on the bench placed by the lake that was surrounded with her favorite flower; white roses. ( (They magically stay there all year, fyi)
She took a deep breath, and opened the letter.
Dear Hermione,
I first want to tell you that I'm all right. And that I will always love you.
Tonight, tonight our house was attacked by death eaters.
And, as you already know, all wonderful things must, must eventually come to an end.
There is no easy way for me to say this, but I feel that I must tell you this bluntly.
Hermione honey, (This was it, the moment of truth, thought Hermione.)
Your, your father was killed.
Hermione read it over and over and over until it finally sunk in that her dad really was dead. Hermione looked back down at the letter, and then realized that Ron hadn't finished what had been written. So, she continued to read, tears stinging her eyes.
The funeral will be held on the 1st of May. You know how you're father always loved May Day. Yes, I do, thought Hermione glumly, remembering all the times she had heard a knock on her bedroom door just to open it and find a bushel of white roses. Hermione started to cry harder.
If, if you can't come I understand. But it would mean so very much to me, and to your father.
I will tell you then, about where I'm staying, and the other news that I had just received before the attack.
It just doesn't seem appropriate to tell you now.
And I want you to invite your friends to come along to. I think they would help you get through this better.
Love you with all my heart.
XO,
Mum.
By the time Hermione had finished the letter tears were cascading down her face. She didn't want to go to the funeral. It would make it final that her dad wasn't coming back. She didn't want to make it final. Her mother would understand, she had said so. Her mother didn't know how bad she felt. No one did.
Her mother. Something about that fraise had stirred something in her memory of the letter. She read it again. Tears still falling.
Her mother had told her to bring her friends. To comfort HER. It then struck Hermione how much her mother really cared about her. In HER MOTHER'S time of need, she wasn't thinking about how hard it was for Herself, but about how hard it was for Her Daughter.
Thinking about this, Hermione came to the conclusion that she had been self- centered to think that she was the only one feeling pain. Her mother was too, and she needed to be there for her. "But how can I?" she wondered out loud. Hermione knew she could barely handle the situation herself. How would she be able to help her mother if she couldn't even help herself?
*~*
Somewhat depressing I know.
Please review.