Another fic. Again, I own nothing. I don’t earn any money from this.
It’s been a year since Fred’s death. All of us grieved, but as the time passed by, we understood that we should move on.
Life has been normal after his funeral. It is normal, but not better. All of us — our family, Harry, and Hermione have been thoroughly shaken up because of the whole ordeal.
Hermione has it worst among us. She was Fred’s fiancée. He loved her so much, and she feels the same about him. This is why I’m not surprised that she’s not in a better shape than I am.
But I didn’t know that it’s much, much worse than I thought.
I visited her one night on her flat, because she wasn’t going out that much. I knocked, and when she opened the door, I saw why.
She was drunk and downright miserable. Bottles of Firewhiskey, Butterbeer and Muggle alcoholic drinks were strewn all over the floor. Her place looked like it’s been damaged by a hurricane. Glasses shattered, picture frames broken, and her things scattered.
Then I saw her face. There were bags and dark shadows under her bloodshot eyes. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her hair was wilder than ever. And when she attempted to smile, it looked like a wince; showing the deep sorrow and agony she has been carrying since my twin died.
“Hey, George,” she said. Her voice was low and hoarse. I just stared at her.
“Come in,” she spoke again after a long pause, spreading her arm in invitation. When I saw her arm, I stifled a shout, and then grabbed it.
“What happened to your arm?” I asked. It was full of cuts, some almost healed, but most were still fresh.
“It’s nothing,” she replied, trying to yank her arm free from my grip.
I took out my wand, and cast a Healing Charm over her wounds. They healed in no time.
“Are you hurting yourself?” I asked.
“I am not hurting myself, George. I appreciate your concern, but please, just mind your own business,” she said defiantly.
“Fine,” I muttered and took a seat, “but you know, Fred will be angry if he saw you like that.”
Her face flushed. “You don’t know what I’m going through, George. He left me alone,” she said, her eyes tearing up.
“Don’t you dare tell me you do, because you don’t! You still have your family with you! But me, I don’t have parents, he’s the only one left, but now, he’s gone, too!” she screamed, then sank to the floor and cried.
I sat beside her, and then put an arm around her shoulders.
I just sat there with her for minutes, letting her cry. I know what this feels like. After some time, she finally stopped.
“I’m sorry, George.”
“It’s fine. It hurts, I know,” I said.
She nodded. “With him gone, I feel all alone. I can’t go to you lot, because I… I can’t. I just can’t. There are too many reminders. And then you came…” she trailed off.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, ‘Mione.” Why haven’t I thought about that? I look too much like Fred.
“‘S okay,” she whispered. We lapsed into silence. I spoke again after some thinking.
“Hermione, why did you hurt yourself?” I pointed at her healed arm. “Don’t tell me that’s not true.”
She looked at me and huffed a breath.
“Okay. I’m a masochist. Happy?” she said stiffly. Her arms were crossed.
“I’m not happy. So, you’re suicidal now? Do you think Fred will be at peace when he sees you do that? We are all trying! Trying our best to live the way we did before, because we know that’s what Fred wants! He wants you to be happy!” I ranted, my eyes narrowed.
“How am I going to be happy without him? Tell me how,” she whispered sadly.
“Live. It may not be easy, but I know that Fred absolutely didn’t want to see you like this,” I said.
“I want to, George. But it’s hard, really hard, to imagine my life without him. He’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, but now, he’s just a memory I have to let go,” she replied while looking at her left hand.
She never removed her engagement ring from her finger.
“You have to move on, if not for him, for us and for yourself,” I said without looking at her. She’s resurrecting the pain left in my heart.
“Okay, I will try.”
“Thank you very much, George,” she said quietly.
“No problem, ‘Mione. Just promise, try. We’ll help you,” I said.
With that, I waved goodbye and Apparated back home.
Lying in my bed that night, I wished that we both can overcome the mourning in our hearts.
Help me, Freddie, I thought before I succumbed to unconsciousness.
Behind my eyes, I saw my twin smile.