Do not stand at my grave and weep.
Chapter 4 - I am the diamond glint on snow.
Right, apologies for having kind of abandoned this, but it turns out the best inspiration for writing is to have an exam the next day ... Anyway, thanks for the support.
This chapter starts one month after the last one ended, so three months since the battle. And sorry it's so long, it just kept on going.
Still, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd have fucked it up so it's pretty lucky for you that I don't
Hermione Granger sat at the kitchen table in the Burrow, sorting through the early morning post with a cup of tea to hand. But she'd found herself watching the early sunlight filtering through the wonky panes of glass, casting twisting shapes across the wall and the surface of the worn smooth wooden table. The effect was mesmerising and Hermione enjoyed the peace that came over her. The past month had been good, as good as it could have been. After Hermione's declaration and break down, she'd slept for 6 days, only woken twice to eat a bacon roll. But she hadn't read. Somehow she wasn't ready to return to that world. And she was just enjoying being home, because that's where she was, home. 'Anything interesting, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked fondly as she continued to bustle around the kitchen preparing breakfast for her brood.
Hermione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, 'Not really, Luna's asked to come over later, she'd like to speak to Harry. I think she's just a bit lonely, after the battle, it must have been strange to go back to a place you hadn't lived in for a year.'
The plump woman smiled gently, 'It would be lovely to see her, ask her for breakfast, no doubt she's an early bird, she'll get it in time,' as she poured herself a cup of tea, a shriek from behind her made the cup tumble to the tiled floor. She whipped around, expecting a threat to her child. But there she was, the young girl who'd made Ron so incredibly wound up, standing and pointing at a pale pink piece of parchment, her eyes ablaze and her hair glowed from the sunlight behind it. Molly Weasley suddenly understood was her son had once written in 6th year, 'Merlin, mum, I swear when she gets angry, it could stop a stampede of hippogriffs. It's terrifying, but you can see the battle in her eyes. She's always searching for the good in someone. Pity it had to be Draco this time.'
Hermione's breathing quickened, and the energy seemed to seep out of her, she slumped back into her seat, her head in her hands. Molly picked up the parchment between finger and thumb, scanned it then swiftly set it ablaze. The ashes fell to the ground, and a bush swept in up instantly.
Hermione groaned from beneath her mane of hair, "It seems after losing someone you love you only get three months peace." She looked up at her mother figure, "I'm not ready, I can't tal-, I can't do th-. What am I meant to do? How do I go to interviews, and meetings and talk about what happened as if it
was a success? How do I tell the story of how I lost him? He's gone, and I can't go with him. I can't follow him.' Molly sat down and bundled Hermione into her lap, just like back at the ruins that fateful day. After Hermione's tears subsided, the older woman cleaned her face, taking care with the soft skin beneath her eyes which had lost they're hollowness. She then stood up and placed two bowls of porridge on the table, one in front of Hermione.
'I'm sorry.' Came the small voice. 'Sorry for disrupting your peace in the morning.'
'Nonsense,' Molly patted Hermione's shoulder, 'I like the company. It's nice having someone to talk to in the mornings. That's the thing with having seven sons, you neve-.' The chuckle died in her throat. 'Er, six sons.' The following silence seemed to suck the early sunlight out of the bright cosy room, drawing the warmth out of the bright copper pans and scuffed tile floor. Mrs Weasley felt a small hand slip into her own, and she was once again reminded of the days after the battle. But looking at Hermione, she didn't see what she'd lost, but what she'd found. Someone who was just as broken, even more, and she'd begun to heal. Hermione was not the broken young girl she was all those months ago, she was looking so much stronger.
Molly squeezed that hand in hers, and patted it. 'I've lost a son, but I've gained a daughter.' They both smiled watery smiles, then they continued to eat in peace. And Molly was right, Hermione was looking and feeling so much better. She was glowing, she'd regained the weight she'd lost and her face was looking a lot fuller and healthier. In fact, Hermione was becoming a lovely young woman, who would obviously be very popular with the opposite sex. Not that she would notice or care, but Harry and the boys would. They had been so protective of her when she was still so fragile.
The thundering of many feet on the staircase broke the moment. The dust notes that had been waltzing in the early light were swirled into a frenzy as Harry, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ginny and the twins tumbled into the room, Arthur following in a slightly more dignified manner, as they filled the room with barks of laughter and yawns and the scrapings of chairs and cutlery. Charlie ruffled Hermione's hair as he passed and Bill poured her more tea as he made himself a cup. Yes, the boys were still incredibly protective of Hermione. As the twins began to bewitch Percy's cup of tea to run away for him hand as he read the newspaper and absently reached for his drink, Hermione relocated to the armchair at the side with her cup of tea, tucking her feet below her. She sat and watch the noise and warmth and pure "Weasleyness" of the moment.
After the crazy breakfast, everyone was relaxed and doing their own things, Bill was writing to Fleur who was staying in France at the moment. Ginny was playing exploding snap with Charlie on the floor, while Harry sat on an armchair playing with her hair and just watching the room. Luna appeared in the doorway, smiling and clutching a bunch of brightly coloured daisies. Hermione untucked herself from the chair, and as she stood she stretched towards the ceiling, enjoying the feeling of her muscles loosening and stretching. And she felt Ron's jumper ride up her stomach an inch or two. Unheard to her, there were two smalls gasps across the room. But then she turned around, and heard the six words that marked the beginning of the rest of her life.
'Oh! How far along are you?' Luna asked calmly, her eyes big and neutral with a smile tugging at her lips, as if friends she hadn't seen for months often were sporting a small baby bump. Hermione's hands dropped to her stomach where there was a definite bump. Her eyes widened as she locked gazes with Harry. Her empty tea cup slipped from her grasp and as it took years to fall, Hermione's mouth formed a small 'O', and then she felt as if she were falling. And then the world went out.