Love, War and Friendship - The Wizarding Way

No matter how prepared for it, no matter how many months you had suspected it might happen it was always a shock. Death was never easy, Dumbledore mused as he watched the children from each of the mirrors. Hermione he saw was beginning to unravel. Slowly, like a kitten playing with a ball of wool. Harry, however seemed to get stronger every day. He was almost ready. He knew what he had to do and he was willing to fight. Ron was as mixed up as ever, yearning for a bit of power, a bit of splendour. He chuckled of the sight of the red haired boy trailing along behind his grand daughter but his face dropped when he turned to the mirror that contained both Ginny and Draco. He wasn't sure what to think about them. At first he felt that they would be the two who would actually break the Malfoy/Weasley feud but after further examination he feared the relationship might push one of the two off the edge. Both of them had spent their entire lives wanting to be someone's world, someone's everything and in light of current situations they might throw themselves too far. If Lucius Malfoy were to find out Draco had gotten himself involved with a Seer...it was only a matter of time. He had access to all ministry files.

Dumbledore shuddered, pulling himself from his thoughts. It was time. Quickly making the mirrors invisible to all other eyes he made his way down to Hogsmeade where they would be waiting for him to tell them what to do. On the way he made sure to ask Minerva McGonagall if she would kindly escort the four children he had been watching up to his office and ask them to wait.

***

Once the body was sent home to the Weasleys with Order of Phoenix members and George was...taken care of and the four children seated in front of him with differing expressions of puzzlement Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and an extraordinary thing happened: he didn't have any words. He opened his mouth up and down but the sound refused to come out. The magnitude of words he had perfectly planned out slipped away and he stood, dry mouthed and awkward.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, seeming to sense Dumbledore's anxiety.

"Yes, yes of course I am," said Dumbledore, his voice returning.

"Well then what is it, sir?" Ginny exchanged worried glances with Hermione, who looked much the worse for wear.

"I regret that I must be the one to tell you this," Dumbledore said with a sigh. He turned to look out the windows, finding it easier to drop such horrible news when he didn't have to face them. "There was an accident at Riddle mansion and someone died." Hearing the sharp intakes of breath he forced himself to look at them. Harry was stiff and brittle. He nodded through gritted teeth, waiting for the bad news. Hermione looked simply terrified, her face white and hands trembling. Ginny and Ron both looked at him with bland gazes, neither wanting to know what he had to say. "It was Fred," he told them softly. "Fred was killed."

He hadn't expected the reaction he received. Ginny slid out of her chair in shock, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Ron didn't try to catch her as he leapt from his to shout at Dumbledore. "I don't believe you! Fred wouldn't go to that house! You must be talking about George!"

Harry's first instinct was to grab Ron, but knowing the pain of grief and how awful it felt to be restrained he let his arm drop. Hermione didn't do anything at all. She sat stalk still, her back perfectly straight as though it were taped to a measuring stick. Her eyes flickered like a fire were being lit behind them but she remained motionless. She didn't move once through Ron's cries of rage, or Ginny's heartbroken sobs or even Harry's gentle tugging at her hand. She heard them whispering quietly but she didn't respond.

"She's in shock," Madame Pomfrey whispered when Dumbledore called her up to his office. "She'll be fine. Perhaps a rest in the hospital wing would be just what she needs."

"No Poppy, they'll be headed to the Burrow right away." And he and the nurse looked at each other with a weariness that only those who had once survived a war such as this could have.

"Of course," she said quickly. "I'll send some sleeping potions and the sort with them. Things will be rough for the next few days and no magic can take away grief."

"Nor should it."

"Right you are, Professor."

Hermione heard it all but it went in through one ear and out the other. Every thought echoed in her head like thunder. Fred. Fred. Fred. Dead. Dead. Dead. That rhymes, she thought before letting out a shout of hysterical laughter. Fred is dead, she thought again but this time in humour. Fred is dead. She felt hands pulling at her arms and a cool liquid sink down her throat causing her to tune out the endless noise of Ginny's tears and the nagging voice belonging to Harry. Darkness came soon after and she welcomed it gratefully.

***

Harry placed his duffle bag down on Ron's bed. He had never before felt uncomfortable while in the presence of the Weasleys but now was definitely the exception. Although he felt the sting of loss he was capable of pushing it out of his mind as he had so much practice with Sirius. He didn't want to think about death or Fred, it reminded him too much of the tragic events that had ended the previous school year. He didn't want to revert back to his angry state. Ron was angry enough for the both of them. He still refused to believe it and yelled at anyone who came within two feet of him. Right now he sat outside in the cold furiously degnoming the garden and refusing to speak to anyone. Mr and Mrs. Weasley had gone upstairs to cry, leaving Draco all alone with the catatonic form of Hermione and grief stricken Ginny. Harry had closed his mind to all worry, knowing this was just part of the grieving process but he still hated to see her like that. He wished there was something to do but the only thing he could do was be angry with Voldemort.

***

Draco sat across from her uneasily. He knew he should say something or try to ease her pain but he couldn't think of anything to say. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her nose as red as her hair but the most he could think of was I'm sorry, and that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

***

Ron hurled the gnome across the yard angrily, ignoring the sharp squeal of pain it gave as it hit the ground. He wanted to kill something, to twist a neck and hear the crack as it broke. Mostly he wanted to hurt You-Know-Who, an impossible task so he settled for throwing gnomes. The fiery white anger that shot through his bones scared him. Never had he felt anger to this degree. No such ugliness like hatred had lived inside his body up until now. The feeling consumed him and ate away at his thoughts. It formed pictures of things he didn't want to think about and angered him even more. He didn't want to be angry. He'd seen Harry go through the same thing just months ago. He wanted to do things differently, to cry. He wanted so much to cry but he was afraid, not of Harry or Draco making fun of him but of never being able to stop. Fred and George had been his favourite brothers and George had already gone evil, it wasn't right for Fred to die. He hadn't deserved it. It wasn't his time.

Ron scooped up another gnome and sent it flying with the rest, shaking his head violently to rid himself of any more thoughts. They were calling him from the house. He could hear someone, Harry or his father yelling his name out the front door but he didn't move. Inside was filled with grief and pain, feelings he hadn't yet felt nor wanted to. He would stay out here until they forced him to come back.

***

Ginny stared out the window, not really seeing what was there. Fred will never climb that tree again, she thought sadly as she watched the leaves blowing rapidly in the wind. The glass in her hand dropped to the floor spilling orange juice all over the carpet as a new wave of tears came over her. Fred won't ever drink orange juice, she thought looking down at the puddle. He'll never have butterbeer again or even water. He'll never get married or have children. He won't be there when I graduate.

She wiped frantically at the tears that swamped her eyes. She didn't miss him, not yet but she missed what she would never see. He wouldn't become old with her. She wouldn't know what he'd look like at seventy with silver hair. She would never be able to get him back for all those practical jokes he'd played on her. He'd never see her again, his eyes twinkling and smile wide. She'd see him of course. It was Weasley tradition to have open casket funerals. She would have to look at his pale face and give his cold forehead one last kiss before they put him in the ground where he'd lie forever. She hoped there was such thing as heaven. She hadn't ever really believed in gods of any sort but right now she felt hope. There must be something out there that would take care of Fred. He was so loved, she thought remembering all the times he had brought home friends. He was always more popular than George. Everybody loved him.

***

The days came and went slowly for the inhabitants of the Burrow. Condolences were made and grief shown. Dumbledore took care of the arrangements for the funeral with the help of Bill and Charlie, both who had flown home as soon as the news had reached them. The Weasleys were informed of Ravey's actual heritage as Dumbledore's granddaughter and the story of George's job as an undercover spy were told. The women of the family found this a great relief and welcomed him back with open arms while the men (mainly Mr. Weasley and Ron) were rather put off by the pain he'd put them through. The atmosphere in the Weasley house was strained and awkward. Ginny was prone to bursting out into tears at odd intervals and Mrs. Weasley, if she could even manage to get out of bed in the morning was silent and shaky. Ron still burned with a fiery anger at the world and if anyone dared come within five feet of him he'd scream insults until they finally backed away. Hermione though she was able to function a bit better had still not fully accepted the news of Fred's death and was constantly being sheltered by Harry. He feared she might collapse if she had to listen to Percy, (he also came when the news reached the ministry) Bill, and Charlie wistfully discuss the stupid things Fred had done in his life. Draco, feeling he was unneeded by Ginny and everyone else in the house had left to go back to Hogwarts where Harry could only imagine the ridicule he would get from the other students without any of them although Seamus had told him in an owl that Draco had reluctantly begun to hang about with him and Dean. And this is the way things carried on in the Burrow until the day of the funeral: everyone speaking in quiet, contained voices almost avoiding looking at anyone else as to not cause another current of tears to flow.

The funeral was held at a large wizarding memorial home not far from Hogwarts so students could attend. Nearly the whole school came out though not one Slytherin could be found besides Draco, who had only come to support Ginny. As a Weasley family tradition the coffin was open casket. Each guest (if they chose to) was to approach the body to say their final farewells. The idea of seeing Fred dead gave Harry a queasy feeling in his stomach but even so the line to see him stretched out past the door, leaving crowds of people to huddle under black umbrellas given out by the ushers. Against his better judgement he and Hermione joined the throng hiding from the rain. She curled her body up to his shivering, barely aware of why they were here or what they were about to see. The doctors had given her heavy dosages of cheering charms after her break down in Dumbledore's office to get her through the day.

"Everything ok, Harry?" she asked, feeling his chest heave with a gentle sigh.

He looked down at her hazel eyes, sparkling as they shouldn't be on a day as tragic as this and her bushy hair flattened against her forehead from the falling rain. He was intensely reminded of another wet and dreary day when the results of his sighs had been a lot different than those of today. The image of her dancing joyfully in the rain came back to him, filling him with an irrepressible pain at the thought of ever having to bring that girl down with bad news.

"No," he said finally tightening his arms around her. "Everything's fine."

Behind them Ginny and Draco stood, not touching at all. The space between the two was enough to let a rather large person walk through but whenever Draco tried to step closer she moved away. Since arriving at the Burrow she had done nothing but ignore him. She'd managed to bypass her way out of his hug at the door, turn her head to the side every time he went to kiss her and evade his speech with tears. He'd given up. It tore him apart inside, a feeling quite unlike anything he was used to, to see her drowning in misery. Yet another reason to add to his list of hatred for Fred. According to Harry Ginny was acting the same with everyone, everyone but Ron that is. Somehow she was the only one who could get past the anger he thrust at the world and all its inhabitants. They would go off in the morning on some long walk to who knows where and come back with tear-streaked faces, Ron's temper just a little bit lightened. For some reason it made Draco incredibly jealous to know that she would share her grief with Ron and not him.

Ron however stood alone in the line. His arms crossed and expression gruesome. He didn't want to be in this line either. He wanted nothing to do with the millions of milling friends and family nor the photographers from the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly. He just wanted out. Before him the casket of his older brother lay. It was a sight no sixteen-year-old boy should have to see. Lavender agreed with this whole heartedly as she watched him from far away. His older brothers had already warned her that it was probably a bad idea to go near him today. Flanked in between Dean and Seamus she knew they wouldn't let her anyway. The bitter misery that played over his face was heart wrenching and Lavender knew it would only get worse. She herself had never experienced the loss of anyone close to her but she knew it must be awful. She couldn't even imagine how she'd feel if she woke up tomorrow to find out that her older sister Violet had been killed by one of You-Know-Who's minions.

"It's ok," Seamus whispered to her giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She smiled up at him, sending the same comfort Dean's way as they stood together in a semi circle waiting. She dreaded seeing the body. Never before had she seen anything dead. The boys were only going because in some way it fascinated them. Lavender sighed as she continued to watch Ron from the corner of her eye. If only she could be sure things would get better.

***

As soon as Hermione reached the coffin her heady cheerfulness vanished though the doctors had assured Harry it would hold itself through the funeral. Fred lay bathed in a pool of white, the black tux off setting his dark red hair in an unflattering way. His eyes were closed shut and the expression of his face wasn't that of fear but of surprise.

"Fred?" she whispered in a dead voice that echoed through the line of mourners. They all, as everyone had been doing since the events of the week looked at her with a gaze of pity that applied to all of the Weasleys. "Fred?" it came again only this time like a wail as she flung herself down on the body sobbing. "Fred!"

Harry was almost afraid to touch her as he watched. A few of the ushers took tentative steps toward her when the drapings of white roses fell from the coffin to her black soled feet but there was no need. She kicked them away as she turned to Harry, her eyes gleaming with hatred and dislike. It sickened him. Never should someone as sweet and pure as Hermione be subjected to such feelings.

"I hate him," she rasped, icy fingers finding their way to grip his forearms. "I hate him." Her eyes burned as her hold tightened on him. "I hate him."

"I know," Harry assured her soothingly, not sure what to say.

"No!" she cried, tears finally running, marring her hard look. "Harry promise me," Hermione whispered, sounding as if she were in physical pain. "Promise me you won't let him do this again. You're the only one who can protect us."

He stared down at her fearfully, aware of exactly what she was asking him but how could he possibly make that promise? Stop You-Know-Who before he hurt another? Even Dumbledore realized that Harry was far from ready to face Voldemort but there was something about the look in her eyes as they searched his. She needed conformation, something to hold her together while she burst at the seams.

"I..." he paused. "I promise."

It was stupid and he felt guilt the moment she collapsed against his chest but at least now she was comforted. Once she was calmed the ushers took Harry aside and told him they were under strict orders not to let anyone in who might upset the family. So he let the man lead them away to the nearest fireplace and he and Hermione returned to Hogwarts without a final goodbye to Fred, something Hermione would regret for months to come.

***

The others returned hours later in varying states of depression. Ron, as usual spoke to no one, not pausing once as he strode through the portrait hole and up to the dormitory. Ginny was without Draco, her face red and blotchy with tears although she looked a little brighter than she had in days.

"How was it?" Hermione asked Lavender quietly as she came in and sat down beside her on the couch.

Lavender shrugged. "It was a funeral," she said softly, putting a hand gently over Hermione's.

Hermione said nothing in response, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"Don't cry!" Seamus begged frantically, sliding into the seat on her other side.

Hermione smiled sadly. "I'll try. Hey Gin."

"Hi," Ginny's voice was quiet and light, tiptoeing over the silence of the common room. "How are you doing?"

"Feeling," answered Hermione simply. "It sucks."

Ginny smiled. "Tell me about it. So where's Harry?"

Lavender and Seamus both stiffened, having noticed Harry's absence themselves but not able to bring up any other thoughts that might depress Hermione further.

"He's umm...uh..."

The three others sat awkwardly around her as she tripped and tumbled over her own words obviously trying to make up some excuse.

"I don't know," she exhaled finally, looking out the window so she didn't have to see the looks in her friends' eyes.

"What?" asked Ginny slowly, not noticing the silencing motions Lavender was making at her with her hands. "How can you not know? We're talking about Harry Potter here. You two have only been glued to each other's sides for the last six years."

"Because I don't," she snapped sharply, jumping to her feet.

"Hermione -"

"Leave me alone!"

Ginny watched the black-cloaked figure hurry rapidly away up the stairs stunned. Hermione, though she had been irritated at her on more than several occasions had never used a tone like that with her. The tears that overcame her at least a dozen times daily trickled back. Her hand ached to throw something hard against the wall, just to hear the sound of shattering glass. She'd do anything if it would take away the pain that clung to her and all those she loved.

"Maybe I should -"

"No," Ginny interrupted, accepting the tissue Seamus offered her gratefully. "Just leave her be. She'll be ok."

Lavender looked up in the direction Hermione had left uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

Ginny didn't answer because truth was she wasn't sure about anything these days but she knew that if Hermione was feeling anything like she was she wouldn't want people hovering about. Especially if she'd already sent Harry away. Harry would have been the only support network she'd needed for everything else, if he couldn't help her now she didn't know who else could.

***

"What are you doing up here?" Ron asked wearily, seeing Harry seated on his bed waiting.

"How was the funeral?"

"Oh just peachy. I especially loved the part where I got to look at my dead brother."

Harry frowned, trying not to talk back. Ron and Hermione had held their tongues during his rough patches in the past. It was only fair that he do the same now.

"And other than that?"

"Ooh it gets better," said Ron sarcasm weaved thickly in his words. "Guess who showed up at the reception holding hands with George?" He spat the name out the same way some talked of Voldemort. "Ravey. Ravey! Can you believe that?"

"Ravey? What does that - ohh," Harry stopped himself mid-sentence remembering the sight he'd seen out Hagrid's hut window. "So are they ... together?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno but the way she looked at him," he shuddered. "Just when I think thing's couldn't get worse they do. Just my luck." He collapsed on Harry's bed since Harry was on his. He wanted to be alone but he wasn't sure how to say it to Harry. He was surprised he wasn't with Hermione. The two hadn't been apart for more than five minutes since the day they'd boarded the Hogwarts Express and maybe for some time before. It hurt too much to think right now.

Harry remained silent as well, mulling over the day's events. It wasn't a day he'd want to live over again that was for sure.

"So did you have another fight again?"

"What?"

"Hermione."

How to answer that one?

"No, thing's are just... different."

Ron snorted. "Of course they are. She just finally realized one of her closest friends died. How do you think you'd feel?"

Harry felt his face burn. "He wasn't one of her closest friends."

"No of course not. She was just the only person he really spoke to after George."

Harry felt his legs swing over the side of the bed before he could think of what he was doing. Ron noticed too as he smirked up at him.

"What are you going to do go interrogate her about it while she's still trying to process everything?"

"No I understand what she's going through I -"

"Understand? Understand?" his voice cracked squeakingly over his own hoarse laughter. "What can you possibly understand? Because you don't. You sit there pretending like you care about what we're feeling but all you can really think about is how now you'll never know whether you were the one she wanted to be with."

Harry's jaw dropped. How could Ron think like that? Stopping himself from being rude to Ron was getting increasingly harder. "Look Ron I know you don't think I do but I know what you're going through I've -"

Ron shook his head. "Been there?" he finished. "But have you Harry? Have you really? I'm sorry that I can't contain my anger or Hermione her tears but this is grief. This is what you do when someone close to you dies. We're not like you, we can't just forget."

"I haven't forgotten," Harry said through thin lips barely containing his own anger.

Ron stared at him for a long time. "Sure," he said after a while. "Whatever you say."

***

Nothing went back to normal for the trio after that day. Ron and Harry went for weeks without speaking each taking turns to spend time with Hermione, who locked herself up in her room and refused to come out, crying buckets of tears every day. Eventually she got up and resumed life as usual though she lacked the spirit that had once thrived on everything Hogwarts had to offer. She cancelled her subscription she'd taken of the Daily Prophet for the last two years because she said it was too depressing. There were more and more disappearances and deaths that she didn't want to hear about.

Ginny it seemed got over everything faster than the rest of them. Slowly but surely her fiery self came back along with her constant companion Draco. No one knew the details but it was obvious that the two had made up whatever difference they'd had. Gradually everyone else caught up with her...everyone that is except Hermione. A month after the death of Fred and she still cried herself to sleep. The impeccable grades she'd always had were now barely above a pass, the friends she had always been inseparable from were now distanced and awkward. Harry carried on with the heavy burden of knowing something was terribly wrong inside Hermione, though he denied it profusely if ever someone were to mention it to him. Ron preferred not to deal with her at all, having already put the past somewhat behind him. He and Hermione had barely exchanged more than a word since their huge fight over forgetting Fred a little less than two weeks ago.

"How are you doing today?" Harry asked Hermione cautiously as he settled down across from her.

She looked up at him briefly and the small smile he'd hoped to be rewarded of stayed concealed in the ever-present scowl. "Should I even dignify that question with an answer?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to get upset by the harshness in her voice. She was going through something. Grief, what stage was she in again? He couldn't remember. Professor Dumbledore had explained it all to him several nights ago but to be truthful he hadn't been listening all that much. With Fred's eternal absence and that stupid promise he'd made Hermione at the funeral he'd made an effort to be involved in the Order, forcing himself to endure many long meetings with Dumbledore. Normally he wouldn't have minded this but anything that took him away from Hermione was an annoyance to him. She couldn't cope without him. The last time he had been gone for too long she had broke down in the middle of the common room worried about what might had happened to him. She was obsessed with death. Fred's, his and her own impending one. He didn't want to admit it but he knew this behaviour wasn't normal. He had already been approached once by Professor McGonagall, who wondered if he thought she might need...help. She hadn't verified what help meant but he knew it might entail sending her away something he was sure would only hinder both of their lives.

"That good huh?" he said softly, taking in the jumble of homework test papers without a trace of ink calmly. At one time Hermione not finishing her homework would have caused him to worry but now it was only common place. Teacher's made exceptions for her, students who had once in the past copied from her now lent their own homework all with the same woeful expression of pity.

"Harry I don't even remember what good feels like anymore," she said fixing him with a look of extreme irritation. She pulled the quilt she'd brought down from upstairs closer around her shoulders in the nervous way she always had.

"Sure you do."

"No, really I don't." Her voice was clear but dull. It lacked the exuberance it'd once held the same way her eyes didn't shine the way they used to.

Harry's stomach seized up as he remembered Professor McGonagall's words: "I don't think, well Potter to be quite honest I don't think she's healing properly. Several of the members of the staff think it might be prudent to ... ahem ... offer her some ...er... help."

How could she not remember what it felt like to be happy? Sure he hadn't seen a smile nor a laugh upon her face for a long time but she couldn't have forgotten.... It just wasn't possible.

"You don't?"

Tears, forming out of nowhere pooled down her cheeks. "Not since -"

"Not since Fred," Harry finished quietly.

Hermione nodded, catching the tears in her afghan. "Life just isn't the same."

Fred hadn't been the centre of their lives. As far as Harry was concerned he, Ron and school had been Hermione's life. Fred was an after thought, a small rose that decorated the corner of a cake. Even Ron and Ginny, whom Fred had been a part of their entire lives, still had fun, no matter how minimal it was. Ginny didn't shed tears every day. Ron didn't yell quite as much. Maybe, he thought with a sigh. Just maybe Professor McGonagall was right. Maybe she did need some help.

Admitting her problems was hard for Harry. He spent hours trying to think of what to do and he couldn't imagine how she would feel when she herself finally did the same. He gathered Ron, Lavender, Seamus, Draco and Ginny into the DA room, which he hadn't started up again because of the recent events, to help him.

"So?" Ron asked crossly once everyone was seated. "What did you bring us all here for?"

Harry swallowed nervously, not sure how to broach the subject of Hermione. She wasn't anyone's favourite topic lately.

"No," Ron groaned. "Don't tell me this is about your girlfriend."

"She's not just my girlfriend she's your best friend too."

"Was," Ron corrected. "Was my best friend until she started going psycho."

"Hey-"

"Guys," Seamus cleared his throat noisily, his voice was heavy as it always was when he had to break up a fight. He had never enjoyed listening to angry voices or arguments especially those of his friends. "Come on if Harry brought us here it's obviously important. Let's not fight."

Lavender nodded her head in agreement though her left hand lay reassuringly on Ron's forearm to keep him in control. "So what's wrong?"

"You've noticed it haven't you? She's not ok is she?"

All five of them exchanged uneasy glances except for Ron, who refused to look at anything but the wall. Harry could tell that what was going on with Hermione effected him more than he was willing to confess.

"She's just trying to get over Fred's death, Harry. All she needs is time," said Ginny, her voice uncertain. "Give her a few weeks."

"But you're over it aren't you? It's already been months."

"Everyone has their own way of healing," Lavender put in, her violet eyes full of sadness.

"Hers isn't working."

Harry felt his body freeze at the stiff honesty Draco offered him. Even Ron's head swivelled to hear more as Draco voiced the things they all knew but were afraid to say.

"Do you all think it's normal for her to continually break down or the severe paranoia she's got about Harry? Is she still the same person you guys remember?" Draco looked around the room at all of Hermione's close friends. "Because she's not. The girl I remember is the one who had the courage to slap me across the face when I stepped out of line. Would the girl she is now even notice if I did something wrong?"

Everyone was silent though everything Draco said was true. Ginny cuddled closer to him wishing that he didn't always have to be the one who told everyone what they didn't want to hear. None of them needed to talk about this. Hermione wasn't ok right now but she would be. She just needed more -

"Professor McGonagall wants to get her help," Harry said cutting through the stillness. "I think it might be the right thing to do."

"What kind of help?"

Harry was surprised to hear a caring note in Ron's voice. His blue eyes were wide with unshed tears.

"I don't know. They might take her away or just make her talk to someone."

"Take her away?" he sputtered heatedly, his face becoming an angry shade of red, the tears disappearing. "You can't take her away. She can talk to us, we'll make her talk to us!"

"She won't talk to you or me, Ron. She needs someone who can help her."

"Exactly my point if she won't talk to us, her best friends how would some stranger get her talk?"

"Best friend? I thought you said you weren't her best friend anymore?"

His eyes widened for a moment as though contemplating an answer. He finally decided on, "Whatever. Do what you want," and stormed out of the room.

"Looks like he could use some therapy too," Draco commented dryly.

Lavender looked awkwardly to the ground. She thought she was probably the only one who understood the nature of Ron's outbursts and feelings towards Hermione. It was so obvious and yet no one ever picked up on it. She wished she could ignore it too but she couldn't. She'd watched him far too much to not be able to recognize that look in his eyes.

***

"Hey mind if I join you?"

Seeing him made her heart jump faster than it had in a long time but then it had been longer still since the last time he'd spoken to her in a friendly tone.

"Go ahead."

"Any particular reason you come here everyday?" he asked, glancing around the owlery. "I mean it's nice and all I could just think of better, cleaner places you could be."

She shrugged. "One of the last times I was happy was here," she said softly, feeling that was enough explanation.

A hurt look crossed Ron's face. "With Harry."

She didn't say anything in reply but reached out to cup his cheek softly, her fingertips grazing the red hair she loved so much. "I have happy memories with you too, you know. Lots of them."

Before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers, burning any thought of Harry completely away. He had never kissed her back at the Black mansion. In fact the only boys she'd ever kissed were Fred and Harry well and Draco if you counted the time she'd been in Ginny's body. Maybe it was because she was sad or the tense atmosphere that had surrounded Gryffindor Tower for the last few weeks but Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had felt so much emotion that didn't have anything to do with guilt or depression. It wasn't happiness but it wasn't sadness. The kiss was short but neither of them moved away once it was over, their foreheads linked together. Small tendrils of her hair overlapped onto his shoulders; his eyebrows met hers.

"I love you."

For a moment she wasn't sure who's lips the words had slipped out of but she realized fast enough that she needed to get away.

"W-what?" she managed to croak as she hurried backwards, accidentally slamming her head into the wall. Several owls hooted at her in outrage.

"I'm sorry," he said, scooting away as well, knowing the consequences if anyone were to find them. "But it's what I feel."

"Y-you - you -"

"Love you."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Wasn't this what she'd wanted? It was a sure fire way to keep Ron from leaving her. He loved her but now that he'd said it she felt everything she knew crumbling away. It was wrong. Wrong for so many reasons. There was Harry and Lavender, not to mention the dead brother who it would be betraying. Besides she loved Harry or did she? For the last month she'd been so unsure of her feelings. They all collided together in an exploding ball inside her. Tears leaked out as she tried to think of something to say.

"No don't cry," Ron whispered gruffly, his hands brushing them away. He'd never felt so daring. It was intoxicating. The more he touched her the more courage he felt. "Just tell me what you want."

She backed away again, not answering.

"Do you want Harry?"

The pain shot through him like a knife twisting and turning when she replied with an unshaken yes.

"He's going to send you away." His jealousy made him say it, made him continue. He wanted her to hate him. "He thinks you need help. They're going to take you to some institute away from Hogwarts ... away from me."

Hermione sat bolt upright again hitting her head against one of the perches. She didn't feel the pain. It just added itself onto the emotional burden she already carried around. "You're lying."

"No I'm not - Hermione!"

Nothing he said could make her turn around as she ran running back towards the castle, stumbling a few times on the unkept tufts of grass. Her mind screamed for Harry. It wasn't true. He wouldn't do this to her. He wouldn't. He loved her. He was the only one that understood. The only one who would listen; who would hold her. She needed him. He wouldn't send her away. He couldn't. She would die without him.

The words continued to ring through her ears as she searched the school for any sign of Harry. He wasn't in the common room, the library or the Entrance Hall. As a last resort she decided to check McGonagall's office to ask if she'd seen him. Perhaps he'd gotten detention again. She tried to ignore the uneasiness building in the pit of her stomach as she raised her hand to knock, stopping only at the terse voices coming from inside.

"Will she protest do you think?"

Against her better judgement Hermione pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear more. She wasn't sure who the Professor was talking to but from the sounds of it, it was about something important. McGonagall sounded anxious and distressed, two emotions she wasn't prone to.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't know with her anymore."

Wait a second. Hermione jerked her head away. Was that Harry's voice?

"It's for the best, you know that. There's something wrong inside of her but with the proper care Hermione will be fine in no time. I'll send an owl to the -"

They were talking about her. Harry and Professor McGonagall were talking about her. Ron hadn't been lying. He wanted to send her away. With a burst of energy she flung open the door, starting both the inhabitants, who looked at her through guilt stricken eyes.

"Hermione," Harry exclaimed nervously. "We were just -"

"Talking about me."

"It's not what you think," McGonagall attempted to explain. "Hermione Fred's death, though very sad to say the least seems to have effected you severely. You need to get better. We think you might benefit from -"

"Help," her voice was cold and distant as she finished off the sentence. "I know, Ron told me. You're going to send me away."

"Ron told you?" Harry shook his head in a desperate way, his voice lowering and murmuring to himself. "Why?"

Hermione's tough outer shell dissolved into her usual half distraught, half weepy attitude after a few moments. She couldn't hold onto it any longer. Stepping forward she bridged the gap between them. "So it's true? You're really going to put me in some - some institution?"

His face clouded over, his hands escaping from their spot in his pockets to relax on her shoulders. The tears she felt inside shone from his own brilliant green eyes, brightening them even more. "You know yesterday when you told me you don't remember what it feels like to be happy? Well I only want you to feel happy again. Don't you want that too?"

Her own tears began to fall as she nodded whole-heartedly. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel better if not for her but for him. "But Harry I can't go away. I'll die without you. I will." Her voice came out more like a desperate plea than she'd wanted it to sound. She couldn't imagine a day going by without him. He had been her security blanket through all this. He did everything for or with her. Life wouldn't be the same without him. No, life wouldn't have meaning without him.

"You're already dying on the inside," he whispered, his tears falling and mixing with hers. "I can't stand to lose you Hermione. You need to get better."

He didn't give her a chance to respond as he thrust his lips frantically over hers and although every kiss with Harry was better than the last this one was different. It was overflowing with all the emotions they both felt yet at the same time an odd sensation filled Hermione's head. Kissing Fred had been new and comforting, kissing Ron had felt both thrilling and odd but there were no words to describe what kissing Harry felt like. It brought her back to the first day she'd met him, the first time he smiled at her and the future she hoped they would have. It sent bubbles of hope rushing through her body. Kissing Harry... kissing Harry was like going home, a real home where the sounds and smells were all so familiar and the memories gleamed so brightly it filled your heart with warmness.

When he finally pulled back and faced Professor McGonagall he was red and embarrassed, having never done anything so personal in front of a teacher before. McGonagall however had tears in her own eyes as she watched the two with an ache in her heart. There would be a lot of pain ahead for them.

"Shall I make the arrangements?"

"Arrangements?" Hermione asked with a sniffle.

"Well yes." McGonagall folded her arms almost uncomfortably. "With your permission I'll owl one of the grief counsellors in Hogsmeade and ask them to come out here."

"To do what?"

"Interview some of your friends, teachers, yourself to see what should be done. Hermione please realize this isn't a punishment," the professor placed a hesitant hand on the trembling girl's arm. "We just want you to get better."

Hermione stared down at the teacher's hand for a moment. There had been a time when she had strived to have McGonagall throw her compliments and affectionate, as she was never one to do so but now ... now she couldn't care less. She just wasn't herself anymore.

"It's ok," she said, trying to keep the hopefulness in her voice but failing desperately. "I understand."

Professor McGonagall nodded briskly, her stern composure returning. "Of course you do. I'll go down to the owlery and send the letter now." She left quickly without further questions or comments leaving Hermione and Harry standing in her office alone.

"So..." he trailed off awkwardly, his hands shoved deep within his pockets reaching for something to take the clumsiness of the moment away.

"So." She looked away from his eyes preferring to stare at the cat shaped paperweight on the desk. She didn't know what to say to him. It had been a while since she'd exchanged such personal words with anyone.

"Want to go back to the common room?" Harry finally offered, receiving a grateful smile from Hermione. There would be lots of people in the common room so she could sit back and let them make the conversation while she could ponder her fate. She hadn't known they had magical grief counsellors. What if they used magic to invade her thoughts instead of just talking? As they walked down the empty hallways the familiar fear that she felt nearly every day gripped at her heart. What was going to happen to her?