Hermione Granger-Weasley burst into the kitchen, her brown hair flying everywhere as her face was a violent shade of red. “Where is Ronald?” She demanded answered as her brown eyes widened with fear.
Fred placed his hands onto the table, pressing his palms into the wood as he took a deep breath. “He is out for the day,” he replied simply.
“He is what?” Hermione screeched, racing over to the table which Fred sat at in the middle of the cluttered Weasley home kitchen.
Fred avoided her eyes and he stood up, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. “Come with me,” he told her, not offering any other option as he walked towards the long stairs.
“Where is he?” Hermione came storming up behind him as he passed Ronald’s room.
Fred ignored her and made his way past their own room, the steep and un-even steps continued al the way to the top. Ron’s room. Fred stopped and placed his hand on the door. “Open it.” He stared down at Hermione in an intimidating way.
Hermione pulled a strange face and stared back at him. “What?” She spat, “no!”
Fred took a deep breath, “open it or I will break it down,” he said with a locked jaw.
Hermione raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms stubbornly across her chest, flicking a stray piece of bushy brown hair from her face as she did so. “No,” she replied in a cold voice.
“Last chance,” Fred braced himself, getting ready to pounce at the door with all his weight, “remember, I was a Beater at School.”
Hermione didn’t say a word, she looked at him like he was about to cave in at any second.
“Your choice,” Fred said plainly before hip and shouldering the door in a bone crushing sort of way. Hermione winced when she heard the wood of the door crackle. Fred braced himself again.
“Wait!” Hermione pleaded, grabbing his elbow lightly before pulling her wand from her jeans pocket. She couldn’t stand the idea of Ron’s door being harmed in any way.
She squeezed into a spot between Fred and the door and started making swift movements with her wand, muttering the anti-charm as she did.
Fred felt a rather sick feeling in his stomach. For ten years he had barely even been this close to any sort of memory of Ron. He knew that he needed to do this, and by scaring Hermione that the bedroom door would break she would surely crack. There was no way Hermione wanted any harm done to any memory of the man she loved.
After several moments Hermione stepped down onto a lower step, “what are you doing?” She asked him with worried eyes.
Fred grabbed her by the wrist and turned the rusty door handle and twisted it, opening the door to a room that hadn’t changed for 10 years. Sure, there was an added layer of dust, but the room had not moved an inch since Fred last entered.
“Ron?” Fred made his way up the stairs, calling for his youngest brother.
Fred entered his brother’s room, he was nearly blinded by the amount of orange that decorated it. He spotted Ron sitting at the end of the double bed playing with his long and thin fingers.
“It’s time,” he said, trying to sound as brave as he could.
Ron raised his head, his blue eyes flashing oddly, “Har-Harry’s already there?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
Fred nodded his head slowly, keeping his eyes on Ron’s.
Ron jumped onto his feet, pulling his wand from his faded cloak pocket. “So the final hurrah has started.” He told himself, not knowing that in hours he would be dead.
There was a double bed that laid where there once was a single bed, it arrived there after Hermione and Ron got together. The bedspread was still a worn and patchy Chudley Cannons one; there were still posters of his favourite team all over the wall with mingled pictures of the Trio. There was even Pigwidgeon’s empty cage sat on top of the old and barely used desk.
Fred tore his eyes off the room that brought a flood of memories. He turned to Hermione, his hand still clutching onto her wrist.
“Do you remember this room?” He asked her.
Hermione tried to tug her hand away from him, but his grip tightened. She let out a small whimper.
“Do you?” He repeated forcefully.
She nodded slowly.
Fred pulled her towards the wall closest to them and pointed to the picture at their eye height that showed Harry and Ron at Bill and Fluer’s wedding, both grinning and waving like mad.
Fred Pressed his finger across the moving Ron’s chest, “do you remember him?” he asked her.
She nodded slowly again, her brown eyes brimming with tears.
“Look around the room, Hermione. Remember when Ron lived in here? Remember when he lived a happy, crazy and adventurous life, do you remember that?”
Tears began to leak down Hermione’s face, leaving streaks of pink. She sloed her eyes and whimpered again, “I remember,” she whispered.
Fred reached around and grabbed the wand that was sticking out from Hermione’s pocket. “Grab my arm,” he told her.
She hesitated before clasping her hand over his upper arm tightly, her bottom lip trembling as she eyed him.
With a loud crack, the both of them apparated out of the Burrow. When they finally collided with land, Hermione looked wildly around. The grass underneath them was soft and a perfect shade of green, the glistening lake before them was making a light, peaceful sound as the waves that the Giant Squid made hit the dry land. It was the grounds of Hogwarts.
“You can’t apparate into here!” Hermione said, snapping her head towards Fred.
Fred raised his eyebrows questionably, “oh really,” he said, getting up onto his feet.
“How did you do that?” Hermione said, scampering after him for answers.
“I have my connections,” he replied, twirling his wand through his fingers.
It took a while for Hermione’s eyes to get caught on the familiar area, her mouth half opened and she stared at the stone by the waters edge. “Fred…” she said in a slow and quiet voice.
Fred looked at her once more before walking over to the black, polished stone and he knelt in front of it, his knees crushing the dead leaves that were gathered there from the tall and wide tree above them. He could hear her slow footsteps nearing him.
He pressed his palm against the cool stone and read out the golden words, “Ronald Bilius Weasley,” he read, “1980-1999. A Gryffindor if I ever saw one.”
Fred tore his eyes off the stone remembrance of his youngest brother and looked at Hermione. “And remember,” he said in a clear voice, “that Ron isn’t here anymore. Remember that he doesn’t live a life amongst us like he used to. He is gone, Hermione, gone away to a better place. He isn’t here anymore. Remember that he wouldn’t want you to waste away like this over a son that isn’t even him.”
Hermione let out an echoing sob, burying her face in her hands and sinking to her knees “Ron,” she whimpered, looking at the dark headstone as she spoke, “Ron, I’m so sorry.” She scrambled over to Fred, covering her tear stained face as Fred pulled his strong arms around her.
“Let it go,” he whispered into her thick head of hair, “let him go.”
Minutes went by before Hermione’s head rose, revealing her heartbroken face. “I love him,” she said with shaking hands.
“Sh…” Fred said soft, “you have Ronald, you have Harry, you have a family, and you have me.”
Fred’s eyes darted from both of Hermione’s bloodshot eyes, to her tear stained cheek, to her trembling lips and then to her shaking hands.
He reached forward and clasped both of her hands in his. He wasn’t thinking, he didn’t know what on earth he was doing, he even forgot about why they were there and why she was in tears. He forgot about the world as he leant forward to her.
It had been many, many years since Fred had even come close to kissing someone, he felt like a young teenager again and it was going to be his first kiss. His lips lingered close to hers when he nearly cursed himself for not being as confident as he was many years ago.
And finally, his lips hit hers. He felt every temptation he ever had to kiss her left his body at the exact moment he touched her lips. He felt an enormous weight being lifted off his shoulders.
He felt like he was flying high, an enormous rush of energy came flowing through him. At least, that was until his heart dropped heavily. He felt her hands tug themselves away from his; she turned her head to the side, sending his lips skidding across her cheek.
Fred snapped open his eyes and threw himself back onto his elbows, cursing loudly.
“What were you doing?” Hermione scampered onto her feet, her eyes wide.
Fred swore loudly again, brushing his hand through his short ginger hair.
Hermione’s eyes darted to her wand that was lying by his side, she took a chance to pounce on it, and before he could stop her, she apparated away.
Fred jumped to his feet, clenching onto his hair and attempting to rip it out as he did so. How could he have been so stupid? They were sitting in front of Ron’s headstone, Hermione was crying over Ron, and he kissed her!
He swore again when he realised he didn’t bring his own wand. He glanced around the grounds, scratching his head in thought.
He turned to the headstone baring Ron’s name. “She loves you!” He yelled, his face starting to go a deep shade of red, “it’s been ten years and it’s still you!”
After a few minutes of attempting to calm himself down, he decided to walk to Hogsmaede.
After the War ended, the Weasley twins decided that it would be wise to finally open a shop up in Hogsmeade for the students on their weekend trips. After that George bought a small house off a street near their brightly coloured store. The shop in Hogsmaede was only open on the weekends, while Diagon Alley was open every day of the week.
Fred made his way towards Hogsmaede, kicking the ground angrily as he walked. It seemed like forever until he stumbled up to the rusty gate of the small cottage. Boxes were lining the outside of the wooden house; many were filled with broken merchandise.
Fred got to the door and hesitated before pounding his fist onto the thick, dark wood.
He heard someone bounding their way over to the door before it was pulled open, revealing a grinning red haired man. George.
After the war, everyone changed, everyone became more depressed, or quiet in one way or another. George seemed to do the opposite of this, he always said the wrong thing at the wrong time, he was joking all the time and he drank nearly every night, or even in some cases, all day.
Sure enough, George was clutching a bottle of Fire Whiskey in his round hand.
George’s grin vanished when he saw Fred’s face. Fred was as white as you could get with his eyes dull and nearly lifeless.
“I kissed her,” he said in a deep and lonely tone.
George opened the door wider, indicating for him to enter before thrusting the bottle of Fire Whiskey into Fred’s chest. “It helps,” he told him.
Authors Note: IT HAPPENED! My god, they actually kissed. Well, more like Fred kissed Hermione and Hermione freaked. Who else wants to give Fred a massive hug right now? I sure do.
I thought I would let you know that the flashback was the last time Fred had been in Ron’s room, and it was one of the last time’s he had seen Ron alive. That scene leads to the one in After we’ve said goodbye in the first chapter for which Hermione is in the kitchen talking to Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ron walks in. I hoped you liked that particular link between the stories.
I hope you enjoyed this; there are two more chapters left, I have already written the next one onto paper, and I want to finish the last one before I type it up.
I just wanted to quickly tell you guys about how much I appreciate your reviews. The past few weeks (and months) I have had quite a few health problems and I was taken to Hospital. You have no idea how great it is when I get back and see your lovely reviews.