"Ron..." She whispered.
Her baby boy - her Ron - he was gone. With that poor girl. And Harry.
Harry! Harry, oh...
Ginny turned away. "They weren't given full care...Th-the Healers didn't even take good care of him. It was horrible." Her voice was dry.
Molly couldn't stand it.
Her Ron. Ickle Ronnikins. That tall, lanky boy of hers. Always there for everyone, funny, kind, empathetic, just always in the moment.
But now? Ron was just the past.
A pool of water, heated up so hot it turned to mere vapor.
A balloon, inflated up so fast and shrunk to nothing by a tiny pin.
He wasn't there. It was like he never existed.
"Ron..." Molly muttered again.
Molly's hand shook as she pulled her wand out of the pocket of her robe. She pointed it at a splintery rocking chair that was twitching lightly in the winds. She fell back into the swaying chair.
Hermione collapsed on the floor as large teardrops discarded themselves from her eyelids.
Ginny turned and leaned against the porch's railing. Her face twisted into an unpleasant shape as her tender hands lifted towards her dripping eyes.
"M-molly," Hermione said faintly.
Hermione crawled over to Mrs. Weasley and put her hand on the other woman's arm.
Hermione's touch made Molly flinch. She stood up abruptly. "I'll - I'll go make some toast, then."
As Molly stood up, Hermione recoiled. She looked so weak there, Ginny made way to her friend.
"WHAT KIND OF WIFE AM I?"
Ginny jumped back. "Hermione – ?"
Hermione had turned around, her face red in fury. "WHAT KIND OF WIFE AM I?!?!" she repeated, louder this time.
"I don't know what you're – " Ginny started, utterly confused.
"I ASKED YOU, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD CALL ME A GOOD WIFE!?" Hermione boomed.
"What are you going on ab–?"
"WHAT KIND OF HEARTLESS LITTLE WITCH AM I? WHO WOULD DO THAT TO HER HUSBAND? HE'S DEAD! IF IT WEREN'T FOR MY FOOLISHNESS, RON WOULD BE HERE RIGHT NOW! IT'S ALL MY FAULT HE'S GONE! ADMIT IT! I'M PATHETIC! I SHOULD GO AND CHOKE ON SOME GILLYWEED! I'M MENTAL! I'M - " Hermione roared.
"Hermione! Would you please calm down?" Ginny burst, immediately stopping Hermione's screams.
Hermione's shoulders shook. She crumpled her face into an unpleasant grimace.
Ginny moved over to Hermione and Hermione cried into Ginny's shoulder.
"G-ginny, he's d-dead," Hermione sobbed. "I-it's all m-my f-fault, Gin. I'm s-such a-an idiot."
"'Mione, it's not your fault," Ginny said calmly, stroking Hermione's hair. "It was a
misunderstanding. Don't worry about it."
Hermione continued grieving in Ginny's shoulder for a long time. Ginny shed some tears too, and eventually Molly came out and solemnly told them that breakfast was ready.
"Mummy, what's wrong?"
Hermione turned to see Jesse, her four-year-old son at her side.
"Mummy's just hurt, that's all," Hermione said softly, tucking a strand of thick brown hair behind her son's ear.
Jesse looked understandingly at his mum. "Where does Mummy need boo-boo kiss?"
Hermione allowed herself a weak smile. "A boo-boo kiss for Mummy on the cheek would be perfect."
Jesse stood on his tiptoes and gave Hermione a very wet and slobbery kiss on her pale cheek.
Hermione kissed Jesse's nose as an empty tear dripped down her face. "Thank you. Mummy feels better now."
Jesse looked very proud that he could do something to cheer his mum up. "Welcome, Mummy!"
Hermione smoothed out Jesse's hair. She said, "So go inside now, Sweetie, Mummy and Auntie Ginny will be in very soon."
Jesse nodded. "Okay, Mummy!" He ran back inside.
"I don't know how I'll tell them..." Hermione whispered. "How can I tell Jess and Abby that their dad has died? No child should have to go through that..."
Ginny turned away. "I don't know," she said, her voice hoarse. "But let's go have a good time while they still aren't aware."
Ginny stood up and helped up Hermione and the two women walked into the kitchen. In the center of the kitchen was a blue island, where four young children and a baby in a high chair were seated.
Molly was scurrying about, putting on a plastic smile as she fed everyone more food. "Abby, why you look thin as a stick! Here, have a piece of bacon, Love."
Hermione frowned as Tabitha, her three-year-old daughter eyed the bacon with intense dislike.
"Molly, Abby and Jess don't eat bacon, remember? Ron - " – Hermione gulped, a lump in her throat – " - Ron and I don't want the kids to eat it. Too much grease."
Molly scowled at Hermione and scooped the bacon off Tabitha's plate and put it on a black-haired boy's. "Here you are, Andren, have some rich, salty, crisp bacon. Your poor dear cousins aren't getting enough nutrition due to your Aunt Hermione's sensitive grease phobia."
Atleast, that's what Molly would have said if she wasn't talking to a bunch of under six-year-olds and trying to set a good example. "Here, Andy, have a bit more."
Ginny stuck her fork into her eggs and began feasting. "Oh, Mum, these eggs are delicious," she said greedily, stuffing her face.
"Yes, Molly, these are quite good," Hermione said quietly, daintily picking up her fork and eating a few pieces.
Jesse beckoned Molly over. "Fank you, Gwandmum!" he cried and gave his grandmum a kiss similar to the one he had given his mum earlier.
Molly smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Dear."
"What do you say, children?" Ginny asked between ravenous bites.
"Fank you, Gwandmum!" three of the kids chorused
"You're quite welcome," Molly said, finally starting to eat some of her own cooking.
Elyssa, her tiny little mass of hair on top of her head bouncing as she looked out at the window, cried, "Owl!" Ginny turned as Elyssa pointed at the window.
"Owl! Owl!" Elyssa was one and a half years old and a very late speaker. All of the words she could say were Owl, Mummy, Daddy, and Gwanny, and she said them whenever she could.
Hermione and Ginny dropped their forks in unison.
"Saint Mungo's!" Hermione whispered as Ginny went and opened the window to let the owl in.
The owl came into the room and hooted as it landed joyously on the table.
Hermione untied the letter from the owl's leg and broke the seal on the envelope.
She read it silently.
Dear Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Weasley,
I am regretfully sending you this owl to tell you that Mr. Potter has unfortunately passed away.
We are very sorry for the inconvenience.
We will provide a free burial for the two men tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon, as you told us you would have liked.
Blessings,
Morag MacDougal
"I have to use the toilet," Hermione said abruptly as she stood up and went into her bedroom. Ginny followed suit.
"What is it?" Ginny asked.
Hermione read the letter aloud.
"Wait! So they've killed our husbands and all he can say is 'we're sorry for the inconvenience' and 'blessings'? I'm contacting the Ministry - " Ginny began furiously.
Hermione shook her head. "No! Gin, we can't. If we do, they'll just repeat the same thing. They'll say, 'We're sorry, here's some free brandy,'" she told Ginny.
Ginny sighed and sunk onto her bed. "How did this happen? It was a joke! I can't believe this. It wasn't supposed to happen like this!" Ginny buried her face in her hands.
"Shhhh, Gin, it's okay, let it all out," Hermione whispered.
Ginny leaned into Hermione's shoulder and cried for a few minutes.
"Everything will be okay," Hermione mumbled, holding back her own tears. "We'll figure something out. You and the kids can come and," at this point, Hermione had tears running down her face, "live with me."
Ginny looked up at Hermione. "No, you'll come live with me. What will I do with this big house?"
Hermione smiled lightly. "We should go back to breakfast."
Hermione pulled a tissue out of her pocket as Ginny wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"Hey Mummy, where's Daddy?" someone asked as the two walked into the room.
And it was with that that Hermione's heart sunk.
"Oh, Clare, Daddy's gone on vacation," Ginny said softly, picking up her five-year-old daughter who stood at her feet.
"Where's he gone on vacation to?" Clare asked, staring at her mum's earring.
Ginny's voice cracked. "The moon."
"Andren, Clare, I mean it - BED!!" Ginny said sharply.
Andren and Clare frowned as each one walked into identical doors right next to each other.
"Come on, children," Hermione said softly, ushering Jesse into Andren's room and Tabitha into Clare's.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances and Hermione went into Andren's room as Ginny went into Clare's.
"Good night, babies," Ginny said softly, kissing Clare and Tabitha on the nose.
"Good night, Mummy," Jesse said to Hermione, kissing her cheek.
"I love you, Mumsy," Clare whispered.
"I love you too," Hermione whispered to the boys.
"Hey Aunt Hermione, when's Daddy gonna be home?"
"Hey Auntie Ginny, when's Daddy gonna be home?"
"Some day, babies, some day," Hermione and Ginny whispered in unison through the thick walls.
As they each kissed the children again in turn, the two women turned off the light and closed the doors silently behind them.
Hermione hugged Ginny, and Ginny squeezed her tight.
"Sleep well," Ginny whispered.
"I will, you too," Hermione said.
Ginny turned away, plucking Elyssa up from a chair sitting in the hallway.
"Hey Ginny?"
Ginny whipped around. "Yeah?"
"Thanks for always being there for me."
Ginny smiled. "Good night, sister."
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A/N: There you go. A very sad chapter, and a day in the life of Hermione and Ginny. Sorry it was short, but I wanted to update soon.
The next one, I SWEAR, will clear things up.
Please R & R!!!