A/N - thank you for reading and reviewing 3
Chapter 31 - A Funeral and a Forgotten Letter
Ron had managed about half an hour of the most uncomfortable sleep of his life, upon returning from the shower. Hermione hadn't fallen back asleep in the time that it had taken him to wash, but she was quick to doze off once he had returned.
He, on the other hand, struggled. The shower had been a catalyst in helping his state but, unfortunately, the hot water couldn't wash away the sadness that consumed him. It had taken him a while to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, and when he had eventually found a suitable one, he only secured about thirty minutes of sleep.
He knew it was a lost cause, and the images of Fred's lifeless face were making him feel claustrophobic within his own mind, so he slid out of bed as quietly as he could, and headed downstairs.
Ron was pulling a clean t-shirt over his head as he descended the stairs, so hadn't noticed Harry already at the kitchen table.
He glanced at the clock. "Mum already up?" he asked Harry as he retrieved himself a goblet of water.
"Yeah, she and your dad have gone down to the Orchard to check that there's enough chairs," informed Harry, who was watching the view of rolling hills with an absent expression.
"Right," Ron said, not envying his parents in the slightest for heading down to the Orchard, where Fred's coffin was waiting to be buried. The mere thought turned his stomach, although that could still be the alcohol.
Ron slumped down on a chair of his own, staring dreadedly at the bottle of Firewhisky that had been left on the side.
"Rough night, then?" Harry asked, an amused tone to his voice.
"Don't," Ron groaned, rubbing his hands over his tired face. "Definitely feeling it now. I was up about seven o'clock hugging the toilet."
"Lovely," Harry remarked. "How did you even end up going to the pub?"
Ron shrugged. "I dunno, mate. Reckon George just wanted to… I dunno, escape for a bit? The house hasn't really been the same since…" he trailed off, needing to add no further detail.
"Of course," Harry agreed with sympathy. Ron regrettably hadn't seen much of Harry since they had returned home. He and Hermione, and Harry and Ginny had kind of split off into their own pairs, which he hoped they would ridicule over the next few days.
"How come you're up so early?" Ron asked.
It was Harry's turn to shrug. "Not sure, really. I woke up at about eight, and knew your mother would be down here. I supposed offering my help today is the least I can do," he mused glumly.
Ron knew all too well how easily Harry could convince himself that everything that went south was his fault. Every fight, every mishap, every death.
"Harry, you know that none of us-"
"I know. Thank you, though." Harry saved Ron the task of finishing his sentence. He sought to change the subject. "So," he began with a smirk.
"So?" Ron asked.
"So, was I right in suggesting that you start to charm your bedroom door?" he asked with a grin.
"Perv," Ron managed a chuckle.
"Oh no, I don't mean it in that way! God, the last thing I want is details, but, you know, how are things going?" he asked, although Ron could sense his discomfort.
"Bit weird for you to see us like this?" asked Ron.
"Kind of. Not in a bad way, don't get me wrong. But, I suppose it's the same way you felt about me and Ginny at the end of sixth year," Harry explained.
"Yeah. That makes sense," Ron chuckled, sipping his water.
A silence settled over the friends. It wasn't odd or uncomfortable. Merlin, they had known each other for years, it wasn't unlikely for quiet to intercept the conversations from times. But, today silence met thinking. And today, thinking meant Fred.
Ron shot up out of his chair quickly, not giving his mind a chance to form Fred's inanimate face from invading his thoughts. However, the action caused his head to pound, making him wince and sit back down.
"Everything alright?" Harry asked cautiously, startled by Ron's sudden movement.
"Yeah, sorry," Ron offered, closing his eyes and willing his headache away. "Guess the effects of last night haven't completely gone away."
"Oh, well, if it's bothering you that much…" Harry looked suddenly mischievous. Ron looked at him quizzically.
"What are you up to?" he asked.
Harry sighed in defeat. "Your mother popped out to get two Hangover potions this morning. She said that she wouldn't have done it, she believes you should learn the consequences yourself. But, given the circumstances…" Harry trailed off. "But, she asked me to wait it out a bit before handing it over, she spoke about you 'needing to learn your lesson'," Harry smirked.
"And you've had it this whole time?" Ron scoffed incredulously, greedily accepting the potion vial and downing it in one.
"Well, you've only been down here about ten minutes," Harry reasoned.
"Feels like hours," Ron mused, quite despairingly.
The silence fell again, although this time around it was more melancholy. Footfalls and faint chatter could be heard from the staircase, although the tones of the voices weren't at all cheerful.
"Good morning," Ginny said. Although the word, 'good' felt inappropriate. She sat down beside Harry, Hermione sitting beside Ron.
"How did you manage to get one of those?" Hermione asked curiously, nodding to the empty vial.
"Mum went out and got them earlier," Ron informed, offering her a small smile.
"That was lucky," she commented. "Has George not had his yet?" she asked as she nodded to the other, untouched, vial.
"No. We were the first up apart from Mr and Mrs Weasley," Harry told them.
"Oh," replied Hermione. She was worried for George. It was almost unexplainable, the sympathy she had for him. To bury someone that had been so perpetually close to you seemed hard to process. It would truly be a difficult day for everyone. Part of her wished that she and Ron were somewhere else, so she could offer her comfort without the awkwardness that accompanied displaying too much affection in front of Harry and Ginny.
But, the room only became more crowded, as the sound of the fireplace roaring to life could be heard from the living room, indicating that someone had Flooed in.
"Only us," called Bill's familiar voice as him and Fleur came through into the kitchen. "Had a good night, Ron?" he asked teasingly.
"How did you find out?" Ron asked.
"Mum sent an owl, Merlin knows why. I don't think she got much sleep last night, to be honest," Bill said in an almost empty voice, as if his heart was breaking again for his mother.
"Where are your mother and father?" Fleur then asked, directing the question to Ginny and Ron.
"Gone outside to put some chairs out, or something," Ron provided, his brain was still fuzzy when Harry had told him why they had gone out.
"Yes, they've gone to check the chairs," Harry confirmed.
"Okay. Should we start on breakfast?" Fleur asked.
Hermione didn't know how today was designed to plan out, but she supposed making breakfast for the grieving family wasn't a bad idea. "I'll help," she announced, standing up, smiling at Fleur's grateful expression.
"Me, too," Ginny added. Hermione was pleased to see that their pleasant relationship was able to maintain. They were sisters in law, after all.
"Alright, great. Don't suppose you need our help, then?" Bill asked.
"No, you go and do the thing you wanted to do, William," Fleur said. There was obviously an arrangement set by the married couple that the other were unbeknownst to.
"Yeah, boys, fancy following me through here?" Bill asked, gesturing towards the living room.
"Sure," said Ron, although he seemed rather confused.
The two boys followed Bill through to the living room, leaving Hermione, Fleur and Ginny to make a start on breakfast.
Hermione was grateful for Fleur. She was a brilliant chef, and with Ginny's knowledge of how everyone liked their breakfast in the family, the three of them were able to make steady process.
Hermione almost chuckled to herself as she recalled a time where she nearly resented Fleur. It had always been the way that Ron gaped at her, as if he couldn't believe something so gorgeous could even exist. It used to twist Hermione's stomach and, despite her attempts, make her incredibly sad, and hopelessly jealous. But now, as she recalled the way that she had caught Ron looking at her in this last year, Hermione could laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It warmed her cheeks to think about, actually, and Hermione chastised herself for allowing her mind to trail off today.
"I think I'll go get some more eggs from the chicken coup," Fleur announced with a smile, although no one's smiles seemed to reach their eyes today.
Ginny watched after Fleur with a surprised expression. "I better go help her. The last thing we need is Fleur to be pecked to d-" but she stopped herself short.
Hermione was already chopping tomatoes, so continued as though she hadn't heard Ginny's blunder. It seemed to go a success, as Ginny soon left through the back door, also.
The men reappeared about five minutes later. Bill excused himself to go and inform his parents that breakfast was ready.
Harry mumbled something about brushing his teeth, before heading up the stairs.
Hermione paused what she was doing, and walked over to Ron, who had remained in the kitchen. "Are you alright?" she asked, watching his face worriedly. Obviously, whatever had transpired in the living room wasn't pleasant.
"Sort of. Just talking about today. Bill just reminded us to keep an eye on George. It was just a bit awkward, really," he explained, looking down at her with an apologetic smile.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his chest. Ron wrapped his own arms around her, too. They didn't say anything, but it was obvious that they both appreciated the moment of comfort.
But it was only for a moment.
"Blimey! It smells marvellous in here!" Mr Weasley stepped through the front door, hanging his coat on the hook by the front door and taking a seat at the table, which was decorated with a vast amount of breakfast foods.
Hermione sprang back and away from Ron, who didn't really react to his dad's entrance.
"What was that, Arthur?" Mrs Weasley and Bill came through after Mr Weasley. Molly's expression dropped once she registered the table. Hermione held her breath in anticipation. How would Mrs Weasley feel about the three of them using her kitchen without permission to cook a family meal?
"This all looks lovely," she said. "Who did it?" Hermione sighed with relief as she noted Mrs Weasley's tone of awe.
She opened her mouth to answer, but Fleur and Ginny came in through the living room, having used the back door again. They were both carrying a basket of eggs.
"Oh, Molly! Arthur! We made breakfast!" Fleur claimed, almost proudly.
"Ah, thank you, ladies," Mr Weasley beamed, sitting himself at the table. "Molly?" Arthur gestured to the table.
"Oh… it's-it's lovely, girls. Thank you very much," she said sincerely.
Hermione sighed a breath of relief. More for Fleur than for herself.
"Would you go and gather the rest, please, Ron?" Mrs Weasley asked, nodding her head towards the ceiling.
"Of course," Ron complied, heading upstairs.
"Breakfast," he called from behind the doors of Charlie's room and Ginny's, where he knew Harry to be.
But as he approached George's room, he only inched tentatively closer, before lifting a hesitant fist at the door. Before he knocked, however, he heard a sniffle from the other side. Ron didn't know what to do. He knocked lightly, but he wasn't surprised for it to be met with no response.
George had heard that breakfast was ready. If he was ready, he'd come down. Ron reached into his pocket for the Hangover potion. He explained to George, through the door, that it was on the window sill in the hallway if he wanted it, and when he was met with silence again, he turned to go downstairs.
The whole family's eyes snapped up to him as Ron walked back through the kitchen. He gave a silent shake of the head, before plonking himself down on a chair beside Hermione.
Hermione watched the faces of the family fall as they learned George wouldn't be joining them. It didn't seem to shock them, but it did sadden them all the same.
Once Mrs Weasley was sat down so close to Hermione, Hermione could see the tracks of tears that stained her face. She looked away immediately, focusing on the food in front of her.
No one said a word at breakfast. And the table dispersed quickly after everyone had finished - or lost their appetite. Hermione inspected herself in the mirror, contemplating whether her black dress was appropriate for such an occasion. She pulled her hair back, but wore no makeup. Her dress fell to her knees, but she had no idea as to whether that length was too short or not.
Ron was fastening his tie behind her. She was incredibly proud of him for even getting up today.
"Ready?" she asked quietly, although it sounded a silly question. They'd probably never be ready.
He nodded stiffly, which was as much a response as he had given all morning.
She walked over to him, lifting his wrist to check his watch. They had about five minutes before they ought to be heading down to the Orchard. She hugged him again, exhaling a sigh.
She smiled softly as he hugged her back. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before Hermione tilted her head back. "I love you," she told him, caressing his cheek.
"I love you," he replied in a choked voice.
She took his hand, and together they traipsed down the stairs. Hermione wondered if they should really be holding hands. But she reminded herself that they weren't doing it to show off their relationship, it was a source of comfort and consolation on a day where Ron, at least, needed it most.
As they walked nearer to the Orchard, Ron's grip on Hermione's hand grew tighter. There was a huge turnout, as there had been for many of the funerals. However, the other funerals that they had attended that week were dominated by adults. Hermione was taken aback by the amount of Hogwarts students who had arrived.
They sat in the front row, Ginny on the other side of Hermione, as the vicar began the service. The pine coffin sat on a podium, decorated with white flowers. Hermione couldn't take her eyes from it.
Mrs Weasley broke down immediately. Hermione glanced down the row, as she squeezed Ron's hand. His head was bowed, but Hermione knew he was crying. Tears were silently rolling off of his nose, which was what tipped herself over the edge. There wasn't a dry eye in the whole of the front row, especially when Bill took to the stand to read the eulogy.
Mrs Weasley was wailing unrestrainedly. Mr Weasley was holding her, crying himself. Hermione smiled through her tears as she listened to Bill's speech, the way in which he recalled visiting his mum in the hospital when Fred and George were born. It was interesting to hear a view of Fred from someone older than Hermione and Ron.
Once the service ended, a traditional song played in preparation for the carrying of the coffin. Those seated all stood. Hermione knew she would have to let Ron go so he could carry the coffin, so she didn't move to hug him. Mr Weasley looked to his sons, trying to convey through his expression that he couldn't leave his wife.
Typically, only four people needed to carry the coffin, but Fred had five brothers who all wanted to carry him, so there would just have to be six people supporting the coffin on this occasion.
Bill looked around frantically, before nodding towards Harry, who was holding Ginny. Hermione noted the look on Harry's face - he obviously didn't know whether to help the brothers or to stay with Ginny.
"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said to him, "Ginny and I will look after each other," she added with a supportive smile.
Harry nodded, before squeezing Ginny once. Hermione looked back to Ron, he smiled softly at her before leaving to go to the coffin. Hermione took Ginny's hand, as they watched the brothers, and Harry, walk down the aisle with the coffin above their shoulders.
There was quite a contrast to the mood this evening than there was at the service. A bonfire lit the darkening sky, the flames providing a warm glow for the setting.
The wake had begun in the living room and kitchen of the Burrow. From Ministry workers who were associated with Arthur, to Hogwarts students and teachers, a large majority of which had stayed after the funeral.
Apologies were reiterated, food was consumed, and stories were shared between children and adults alike. However, as the evening drew nearer, Lee Jordan sparked the idea of heading outside with a few other friends of Fred. It only took so long for the younger half of the party to slip outside, conjuring chairs and bringing out more food - and drink.
Hermione caught Ron eyeing the small alcohol collection wearily, and she chuckled at him from across the garden.
Once again, they had been mostly inseparable the whole day. The beginning of the wake consisted of Hermione and Ron sitting in various places of the living room, Hermione answering most of the questions that were thrown their way. She was glad that those who had attended the funeral had more tact than to ask about what they had been up to for the last year. Ron began to engage more and more in interactions as the time passed, although Hermione could tell he wasn't fully committed to any conversation he was involved in.
As she brought herself back to the current situation, Hermione smiled. It was strangely sweet to watch the tear-stained faces that sat around the bonfire smiling and laughing. Hermione hadn't realised just how popular Fred and George were in their year of school. There were even more at the service itself, but Hermione could easily count about twelve faces that she only vaguely recognised, either from walking through corridors or sitting at the Gryffindor table.
She was about to venture back over to Ron, but paused as she watched Pavarti speak to him. Ron's face had considerably fallen, Pavarti's expression, however, was stoic, as though she'd rather not be there speaking to Ron. It would hardly be surprising, given the unceremonious way Ron and Lavender had.. broken up? Hermione winced at the memory of Lavender rushing out of the Hospital Wing in tears.
In the moment, she had been so consumed with the frail Ron lying in the hospital bed, that she could hardly even notice Lavender once she was out of sight. Be honest with yourself, Hermione, she chastised herself. She couldn't truthfully say that she was upset that Lavender and Ron had broken up… but perhaps, now that she reflected, she did feel rather guilty. If she was in Lavender's position, Hermione could hardly say that she'd be pleased with the way things had ended, even if their relationship had lacked depth.
Deciding that she'd rather not interrupt a conversation between Pavarti and Ron, considering the cold shoulder she had received after the breakup, Hermione turned on her heel with the ambition of 'popping into use the loo'. But all too quickly -
"Hermione!" Pavarti called. Hermione winced, before readjusting her expression into a polite smile, and turning back around once more.
"Hi, Pavarti. How are you?" Hermione asked, standing awkwardly between the two who were seated.
"Fine. I just wanted to let you know, in case you were wondering why she isn't here tonight, Lavender is in St Mungo's," she explained, her tone cold.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. Is-how is she?" she asked. Truthfully, she hadn't thought twice about Lavender's absence - she had never been a close friend of Fred. But, then again, other peers from their year group had arrived, so it wouldn't not make sense for Lavender to be here, too - apart from the inevitable awkwardness between her, and Ron and Hermione, of course.
"She'll be fine. Greyback attacked her. The Healers say she's lucky to be alive, but she's recovering," she further explained.
"I'm so sorry, Pavarti. I had no idea- I." And before she could stop herself, Hermione hastily added, "is there anything we can do?"
Pavarti narrowed her eyes at her. "Do you seriously think she wants anything to do with either of you?"
Ron snapped his head up, for the first time since Hermione came over. Pavarti began speaking in a dejected, nearly disappointed tone. "I know that Lavender can be a bit extreme, but she really liked you, Ron. I mean, the things she used to say about you were so different from how she used to speak about other boys. She said that she had never been with such a 'nice and understanding person' who was also 'the most respectful that any boy had ever been with her'." Ron squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
"And then you go and shrug her off the minute that Hermione talks to you again? Do you have any idea how that made her feel? And neither of you even batted an eyelid at her afterwards. Hermione, you shared a dormitory with her for Merlin's sake. I've heard that both of you have had a difficult year, and, Ron, I really am sorry to hear about your brother. But, I don't think it's really the time to pretend to care about Lavender. I'll be going, now," she said, standing up and walking back into the house - presumably to thank Mrs Weasley before she left.
Hermione was nearly dumbfounded. She felt guilty, more than anything. Maybe Lavender hadn't been very nice to her at all in sixth year, but it wasn't completely absurd for her to act that way. Of course, Ron had never cheated on Lavender. In fact, Hermione and Ron hardly spoke for the duration of his and Lavender's relationship. But, even if the other person didn't know it, they both had feelings for each other. And, even though he never acted on those feelings whilst being with Lavender, Hermione could tell he knew he was wrong to stay with her so long, judging by the solemn expression on his face.
Hermione sat down in Pavarti's empty chair, chewing her lip in thought. In retrospect, she could've treated Lavender with more kindness as she was dealing with her breakup. But, until Pavarti had emphasised it, Hermione had no idea that Lavender was so much more invested in her relationship with Ron than he was.
"We should go visit her," spoke Ron suddenly, derailing Hermione's train of thought.
"Really?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Didn't you hear Pavarti?"
"Yeah, which is why I think we should go. I should apologise.." he mumbled guiltily.
"Okay," Hermione agreed. Maybe Lavender would appreciate a sense of closure. "I don't think we should go, though. If she… you know, heard about us, then I'd imagine it would just be awkward."
Suddenly, Hermione felt incredible sympathy for Lavender. Not just for her attack, not just for the way her and Ron's breakup had panned out, but because it was unfortunately inevitable that Lavender would find out about Hermione and Ron.
Hermione wasn't trying to insinuate that Lavender would even care all too much about Ron, anymore. But, if Lavender did have deeper feelings for Ron than Hermione believed, then she could only dread how Lavender would feel once she found out that the girl who she was so paranoid about, had ended up with the boy that she had so liked.
"Alright," Ron relented before even protesting that Hermione should come, too. "Merlin, that put a downer on this already so cheery day," he commented sarcastically.
"I know. Even if there was some truth to what Pavarti said, she should've been more sensitive with her timing," Hermione consoled, watching the fire absently.
There was a clear awkwardness now. Both were feeling rather conflicted over what Pavarti had relayed. Sixth year felt like a lifetime ago, Hermione mused. Now, it was easy to laugh at herself and Ron's younger selves, considering all they'd been through the past year. But, at the time, those problems that they could so easily mock now, had taken over their whole friendship. They hadn't even spoken for months, a fact that Hermione had been reminded of, either from Pavarti or herself, about six times tonight.
"That year was a mess, wasn't it?" she recalled, her mind conjuring images of a determined-looking Cormac swooning her off to an abandoned classroom.
"Yep." Ron scooted his chair closer to Hermione's, as if he could read her mind. "I don't want to bring it up, but are you sure you still don't want to tell anyone about what happened with McLaggen?" he asked, using the arm of the chair to lean close to her.
Hermione shook her head. "No, it was nearly eighteen months ago. And he may not have taken things too far… besides, he was punched in the face before he could do too much else," she added with a smirk.
"Bloody hell, I know, it really hurt my fist to do that," Ron mused, absently rubbing his fist at the memory.
"Well, I think he came out worse off, Ron. I heard that his nose was broken, but obviously he didn't tell anyone the truth about why it was."
"The sod knew where he'd end up if people found out, that's why," Ron grizzled, still believing that the pervy git should be locked away for the rest of his life.
"He looked quite regretful when we came back to school after Christmas."
"Oh, there you are then; as long as he looked guilty," Ron scoffed.
Hermione sighed pointedly, rolling her eyes at him. She knew that what could've happened that night was a serious matter, but there were a million things going on right now. She just craved the serenity of life that she hadn't experienced in so long.
"Alright, sorry," Ron said, defeatedly. "Suppose I'm the most grumpy at myself for how I acted that year."
Hermione properly turned to him. "I don't think either of us were perfect that year, but maybe that's what it took for us both to realise how we felt. It's just extremely unfortunate that Lavender had gotten in the middle of it," Hermione said. "But, I think that it's a good idea that you go and apologise to her. She'd probably really appreciate it."
Ron smiled softly at her, "I love you," he said.
"I love you, too," she replied, leaning in and kissing him. "Should we rejoin the others?" she asked once they broke apart, deciding that they could both do with a laugh with their friends after reliving their sixth year.
Ron nodded, taking her hand as they made their way back to the rest of the group.
"We were wondering where you pair had run off to," Ginny joked.
"My bet was behind a tree somewhere," Seamus teased.
"We were only 'round by there," Ron protested, pointing to the chairs they were sat in, which were now, conveniently, cast in a shadow.
"Eh, don't worry about it, Ron." Seamus came up to them and clapped Ron on the back. "If I had bagged Hermione, we'd never leave the bedroom," he exclaimed, downing the rest of his drink.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Seamus' statement. Ron, however, had clearly been more affected.
"Great. Now Seamus fancies you," he said dryly.
If she hadn't been under the mild influence of alcohol, Hermione very much doubted that she would say what she did next. But, seeing as she had been under the influence of alcohol, it only took her an ounce of courage to wrap her arms around Ron's neck, and whisper in his ear, "yes, but was it Seamus' name that I yelled out in ecstasy the other night?" She chuckled as Ron's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in a nervous swallow, before kissing his now-reddened ear, and innocently walking off to speak to Ginny and Angelina Johnson.
The guilt of the conversation with Pavarti was starting to consume Hermione, and she was beginning to worry that the others were noticing her bad mood. So, that's why she accepted another almondy-scented drink that she was offered from by Ginny, who explained that it was a 'Muggle' drink brought along by Dean. Of all the things she knew of the Muggle world, alcohol wasn't in Hermione's encyclopaedia. But, she supposed one more drink couldn't hurt...
The night of drinks and banter continued, until Lee and George asked everyone to sit down, as they had a surprise. Hermione raised her eyebrows in question to Ron, but he just shrugged in response, plonking himself down on the grass. Hermione joined him, kneeling at an awkward angle, in order not to accidentally flash anyone.
Once everyone had settled down, George and Lee, who were stood at opposite ends of the semicircle the group had created, nodded at each other, before each raising their wands towards the night sky.
George turned back to everyone, a sad smile replacing the drunken, goofy grin he had been showcasing all night. "Thanks for coming today, everyone. Believe it or not, I really enjoyed tonight. I know for a fact that Fred would've liked to be remembered this way, and on that note-" He turned back towards the sky, glancing at Lee one final time.
Everyone waited in anticipation, before the darkness of the sky erupted in a blaze of fireworks. The adults started to file out of the Burrow as awed faces watched the colourful fireworks in amazement. Hermione was becoming uncomfy with the way she was sitting, as she was trying to concentrate on the fireworks, but also had to concentrate on not toppling over, her slightly inebriated state doing nothing to help.
As her solution, she wrapped her arms around Ron's waist, resting her head upon his shoulder to continue watching the display. Ron wrapped his own arm around Hermione, absently tracing patterns on her hip.
The delicate touch triggered butterflies in Hermione's stomach, so she snuggled closer to Ron, hoping to goodness that Mrs Weasley wasn't watching them.
The display ended fantastically, with the infamous Weasley 'W' firework dazzling into the darkness, and to ultimately end, a firework of Fred's face scattered the sky, bringing tears to many eyes.
Hermione thought it was a beautiful way to cherish Fred's memory, but she was quite sorry that it had ended, as she really was quite comfortable where she was.
"That was wonderful, George," Mrs Weasley cried, running to her son and encasing him in a bear hug, which George returned.
Hermione smiled, a tear trickling down her cheek as she moved her head up to look at Ron, who had unshed tears in his own eyes. He moved his own head to look down at her. "You okay?" he asked, using his free hand to briefly tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, before he returned it to the ground, supporting the weight of both of them.
Hermione nodded. "Do you mind if I just stay here for a bit?" she asked, resting her head back on top of his shoulder.
"Not at all," he replied, squeezing her hip gently.
Hermione smiled, although her eyelids were starting to feel heavy, as she felt the events of the day catching up with her energy.
"Alright, guys?" Hermione's eyes opened at the sound of Ginny's voice. She was accompanied by Harry, and they each held two goblets in their hand. Harry passed his second one to Ron, and Ginny tried to offer her second one to Hermione, but she shook her head. "No, thank you." The last thing she needed was more alcohol, or she just might say something that she'd actually regret.
"Suit yourself," Ginny smirked, drinking from her own goblet.
Hermione could hear more voices join them, but her eyes were closed, and that's how they stayed as she felt unconsciousness begin to take her. She smiled everytime that she felt Ron chuckle at something that someone had said, but otherwise, Hermione was safely drifting off to sleep.
She awoke, unwillingly, to the sound of Ron gently saying her name. Her only response was to frown at him, her eyes remaining shut as she tried to slip back to sleep.
Hermione heard Ron chuckle. "Why are you laughing at me?" she mumbled, nestling her head back against his shoulder.
"Because even in your sleep, you're stubborn," he teased.
She frowned deeper but her expression softened as she felt Ron's lips against her forehead. Reluctantly, Hermione opened her eyes.
"Ready for bed?" asked Ron.
She nodded, and Ron helped her to stand up. But she lost her balance rather quickly, so Ron had to grasp her hand again to steady her. "Had a bit too much, did we?" he joked.
"You're one too joke," she retorted, thinking of his own state this morning. "Where is everyone?" she asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.
"Went back inside when it got a bit chilly."
"And you stayed out here? All on your own?" Hermione smiled up at him in admiration.
"Well, I wasn't completely alone. I had your snores to keep me company," he chuckled.
"I do not snore," she countered indignantly, tugging on Ron's hand so he would stop and look at her.
"You don't, but you did look too peaceful for me to move you," he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"That was very sweet of you." Hermione raised herself to kiss him, holding his face in her hands
"I love you," he said, pressing his lips to hers once more.
"I love you, too," she replied, and with joined hands they walked back to the house.
"Hello, dears," Mrs Weasley said, as she shuffled around the kitchen in her slippers. Evidently, everyone else had retreated home or to bed. "Oh, Ron, will you shut that window? I don't know why it's open, we haven't used it in years, it's so small."
Ron turned to do as he was asked but Hermione beat him to it. "I can be a gentleman as well, you know," she teased, causing Ron to chuckle.
But as she shut the window, Hermione failed to notice the envelope left on the window sill that was addressed to none other than Hermione Jean Granger. In one corner, a stamp print stating the words, in bold, 'PRIVATE INFORMATION ENCLOSED'. In the far left corner, a stamp print with the logo of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.