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Chapter 4

It was the day Ron had been dreading more than any other. He'd been trying not to think about it, trying to distract himself as best he could. But after two weeks, he knew that he had to face it. They all did.

Saying goodbye to Fred.

The funerals had started yesterday, the first being that of Colin Creevey's. The young Gryffindor had had quite the turnout, including all of the Hogwarts staff, his friends, and even Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly appointed Minister for Magic.

It was the mission of the Ministry to have at least some of its members attend each funeral in honour of those who had died fighting valiantly. Every person would be awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, and their names would be forever etched in two monuments — one at the Ministry, the other at Hogwarts.

Ron hadn't known Colin all that well, but he'd gone to his funeral anyway, preparing himself for what was to come next. It was sad. Colin's Muggle parents looked overwhelmed, yet honoured, by the impact their apparently average son had made in a world they weren't even familiar with.

There had been many tears.

Harry had shown up, but he kept his distance. He didn't even acknowledge Ron or Hermione, which had upset Hermione. After the funeral, she'd made an attempt to speak to him, but Harry had stood away from them, watched the funeral, and then left the moment it was finished. Many people hadn't even seen him arrive, but by the sad look Ginny had on her face after he'd gone, Ron knew she had. Ron placed an arm around her, offering her comfort in the best way he could.

Colin's funeral had been bad, but Ron knew that it wouldn't even come close to Fred's. Not for the Weasley family. It was due to begin at eleven o'clock, and the time seemed to go both fast and slow at the same time. Fast, because he didn't want the moment to come, slow because he just wanted to get it over with.

Ron felt lost as he stared at himself in the small mirror in his room. He was wearing dress robes borrowed from Percy (who, with his former job, managed to buy multiple sets of nice ones), but it didn't feel like enough. Fred shouldn't have even been gone. No one should have. It simply didn't seem fair.

He was just contemplating changing when a shriek from the kitchen below drew Ron's attention. A moment later, he heard his mother sobbing.

With a heavy sigh, Ron left his room and headed downstairs to see what had happened. It really was going to be a long day.

To his utter shock, Molly's tears were not from sadness, but from joy. Standing in the kitchen, tears streaming down his own face, was George. He allowed himself to be engulfed in his mother's arms, and the two stood there for ages, hugging and crying.

Ginny and Hermione, who were already dressed, stood nearby, tears in their own eyes as they watched the reunion with a mix of sadness and joy on their faces.

George was home. It had been his mother's most desperate desire, to have all the family back together. Till now, George had refused. Despite some attempts made by all of his brothers in the beginning, George had shut every single one of them out. He had kept his flat door sealed to any magic, and no one wished to use a charm strong enough to break the enchantments. So they had left him to grieve on his own.

Ron was pleased to see him, because he knew no one had been sure if he'd make it to the funeral at all.

Tears still falling from his eyes, George pulled away from his mother. He looked around. Everyone was in the kitchen watching, silent. And he hugged them all, one by one. Fleur and Hermione included.

Afterwards, there was some light talk, but mostly everyone remained silent. The funeral was to take place in the village below, protected from Muggle intruders by magic. It was where Fred had grown up, and it was where he was going to be buried.

They could have walked, but Ron doubted anyone had much energy for that, so they went to the nearest Apparition point just outside the boundaries of the Burrow. Ron watched everyone turn on the spot, disappearing into thin air. Ginny grabbed Arthur's hand, and they, too, vanished.

Beside Ron, Hermione gripped his hand. "Ready?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He swallowed. Would he ever be ready? But he nodded, and he felt the gentle pull of her Disapparating them both down to the village. They landed within the confinements of the enchantments that had been placed there earlier.

Ron felt sick. So many people were there already; most he recognised, but some were strangers. He saw Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Neville was there…

He felt himself sway on the spot, the only thing stopping him from falling over was Hermione gripping his arm.

She'd said nothing to him for most of the morning; she didn't need to. Her presence told him enough: she was here for him, no matter what he needed.

All he needed was for this day to be over.

They walked forward, Hermione's hand still on his arm. They found two seats near the front, behind his parents. Bill and Fleur and George sat next to Ginny and Percy. Once seated, Hermione linked her fingers with his and they just sat in silence.

It didn't even occur to Ron to look for Harry until he heard Hermione's gasp. He looked up; Harry had slid into the vacant seat beside her without speaking. He reached across and patted Ron's knee.

Ginny stared, and he gave her a small smile. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

As Bill made his way to the stand, a piece of crumbled parchment in his hands, Ron realised that he had been wrong. Getting to the funeral had not been the hardest thing — listening to everyone speak was. Bill had volunteered on behalf of his devastated mother, Arthur said a few words, and Fred's friend Lee Jordan spoke on behalf of George.

Halfway through Bill's words, hot tears formed, silently sliding down Ron's face. Once started, they wouldn't stop.

He could no longer see his brother standing up at the front; he was just a blur of shapes as Hermione's arms found him. They were warm and comforting as he buried his face against her shoulder and cried silently against her. His whole body shook, but she didn't let him go. She sat beside him, her arms gently caressing him in comfort, her own tears running down her cheeks.

His mother's loud sobs echoed throughout, while Bill's voice cracked a number of times while he ploughed on with his speech. Ron barely noticed any of it, lost now, to the despair that he'd been holding back for two weeks.

Fred was gone. His brother. How could his brother be gone? It just wasn't fair.

Eventually the funeral ended and Fred was buried in a cemetery filled with so many others. It almost felt as if he was too good to go there, with people who'd probably had a much less remarkable life.

Hermione stayed by Ron's side the whole time. Even after the tears stopped, and then came again, she didn't let him go. Not once. Not when Fred was buried; not when Ron couldn't leave the cemetery long after most of the others had; not when Ron could only watch the headstone be placed on top of the freshly covered earth. Through everything, she stayed.

The sun was just beginning to set when he came to himself. He didn't know how long he'd been there, watching the grave site, hoping for something that he knew wasn't going to happen. It was just him and Hermione… and George.

Hermione finally let him go, her arm running soothingly along Ron's arm as he made his way to his brother. George knelt by Fred's grave, head bowed and tears streaming down his face. They hadn't stopped since Ron had seen him that morning.

Looking back at Hermione, who smiled sympathetically, he knelt by George and together they stayed like that for who knew how long. Despite summer being very close, the evening air was still cool as the sun completely disappeared and the moon came out. It was a rare clear sky, and Ron liked to think it was Fred's way of saying one final goodbye.

When his knees began to ache, and Hermione had long been gone, Ron spoke, his voice hoarse. "Let's go home." He dragged George to his feet by the arm. "He'll be here tomorrow."

They returned to just outside the Burrow's boundaries, walking silently through the night, over the hill, until the dim light from their family home flickered in the distance. Like Hermione had done for him throughout the day, Ron kept a hold of his brother, making sure he made every step, catching him if he stumbled.

When they reached the Burrow, they were greeted by a sullen silence. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen, some holding mugs of tea, others staring at something that wasn't there. But George's presence woke them. They all looked up, and Molly stood, running to him and throwing shaking arms around him.

Hermione walked timidly over to Ron. "How are you?" she asked.

Ron nodded. He couldn't find the words to explain, but he was alive, he was coping… more than George, more than his mother. That was something.

His eyes scanned the room. "Harry…"

"He went back to Grimmauld Place," she said softly. "But… Ginny went with him."

It was then Ron realised that his sister was also missing. Without any reason, more tears sprang to his eyes. Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting against his chest. His tears rolled down his face and onto the top of her head, but it didn't seem to bother her. She only held him tighter, lifting her head and whispering so softly that even he struggled to hear her.

"I love you."

Those words, as simple as they were, were enough to bring a smile to his lips, and a thought — as horrible as it made him feel to even think it — in that moment, standing in the kitchen with his family, he felt grateful that it wasn't her funeral he had just come back from. A loss such as that might just have ended him.

A short chapter this time, but hopefully a powerful one. Thank you everyone for your kind comments so far, and all of your messages. Very much appreciated!