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Finding a Way to Tomorrow	By : GeorgesParamour Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/George Views: 4807 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Finding a Way to Tomorrow
- 1
The wind blew softly through the trees, the branches whispering secrets of nature that no person, wizard or witch alike, could understand. The sun was slowly beginning its decent in the spring sky, tinting the endless blue pallet above with shades of pink and gold.
A lone figure sat at the top of a rise, his red hair tussled and dancing like flames upon his head. In the valley at his back stood his home. The vast yards surrounding the place where he had grown up were still occupied by throngs of visitors. Each of them had shaken his hand, held him in a hollow embrace, and had imparted words of comfort to the best they were able. None of it had made a difference. None of their attempts broke the frozen exterior he had carefully constructed around himself.
Instead he was lost to a world that had fallen into pieces at his feet. Lost was the desire to reconstruct the bits. There was no longer a reason to try. Everything he had known, everything that was the completion to himself, was gone. Stolen, broken, taken away�
A racking sob tore through his body, shaking his frame and allowing the pressures of the day to take their toll upon him. Not even five hours ago, the Weasleys had buried one of their own. One of his own.
George Weasley buried his face in his hands, the salty wet of tears sliding through his fingers and working in small, uneven rivers. They trailed down his wrists and dropped one at a time into the dirt in front of him; the same dirt that was clinging desperately to his formal robes and the dress pants beneath them. The same dirt that was marring his outward appearance as his twin�s death was turning his soul murky shades of black and brown.
Unnoticed, a small form topped the hill and stood for a moment, taking in the sight before her. Her heart ached and she was pulled forward by an unseen hand, driven to do something � anything � to ease the suffering of the man she had long been proud to call her friend.
Dropping to her knees, Hermione Granger wrapped her arms gently around George�s grieving body, pulling him close to her. She stroked his hair carefully, rocking them both and whispering words of comfort. George turned into her embrace; aware of whom it was cradling him before she ever spoke. Hermione had always carried a scent, sweet and light, that identified her as quickly and easily as her hair ever had.
George sobbed openly. For the first time since his brother�s death, he held no restraints in place. His very heart and soul seemed to be pouring from his body in his fountain of tears. He clung to Hermione as though she was his lifeline, which in that moment she very well may have been.
As the sun settled itself on the horizon, casting extended shadows and allowing the subtle chill of oncoming night to stretch over the plans of Ottery St. Catchpole, George�s sobs at long last began to subside. He went limp in Hermione�s arms and she carefully adjusted herself so she was sitting on the ground rather than kneeling.
�George?� she whispered, the word tossed and thrown away on the evening wind.
�I can�t believe he�s gone,� came the croaked reply. George�s throat was raw from his long bout of sobbing, but Hermione understood the words clearly.
�I know,� she soothed, her tone still soft. Her lips were near George�s ear and despite how dreadful he felt, the tiny puffs of her breath over his skin sent shivers through his body.
�Are you cold?� she asked. George shook his head no, then nodded. He wasn�t sure of to the answer.
�Sometimes, already, I feel so alone. How am I supposed to do it, Hermione?� George turned and looked at her properly for the first time. Hermione�s breath caught in her throat at the depth of pain reflected in George�s blue eyes. Their colour alone was enough to startle someone, but agony twisted their beauty into something boarding on sinister�
�George,� Hermione whispered again, trailing gentle fingers to brush back his auburn fringe. �You do it one day at a time. I understand it feels like it, but you�re not alone. You have your family; your friends� there are a ton of people who love you. None of them will let you do this by yourself � unless you push us all away and don�t allow us any choice.� Hermione choked a bit on her words, struggling to keep her own tears at bay.
�Please don�t do that, George. Please don�t push us away.� The tremors in Hermione�s voice gave her away and the pair both found themselves surprised as George�s arms came up and around Hermione, pulling her to his side. In the midst of his own grief, he still found himself able to comfort someone sharing his pain.
True, what Hermione felt was only a fraction of what he was experiencing, but pain was pain and the remedies were all similar. Her sweet scent enveloped him and he rested his temple against the top of her head as she burrowed into the crook of his shoulder.
They stayed there, sitting on the hill that overlooked the village and assorted homes below until the last of the sun had taken shelter below the horizon. Hermione shifted slightly, reaching into her robes and withdrawing a silver flask.
�Why, Hermione! I never thought you would be one for sneaking liquors about!� George murmured, the tiniest infliction of humor in his tone. Hermione took it as a good sign and elbowed him gently.
�Oh hush and take a sip.�
George obeyed and Hermione watched with a smile as his eyes widened slightly. Pulling the flask away, George�s eyes moved to meet Hermione�s.
�Hot chocolate?�
Hermione smiled. �It�s my mum�s recipe. A touch of mint, a hint of cinnamon. Sounds a bit odd together, but I think it tastes pretty good.�
George nodded, eyes unwavering. �Don�t tell mum, but I think it might even be better than hers.�
Hermione blushed and George didn�t fail to take notice. She reached out to take the flask back and her fingers brushed over George�s. Hermione�s blush deepened. She took a slow sip, tongue darting out to catch any stray drops of chocolate from her lips.
George�s eyes darkened just the slightest and for a moment it seemed to only be a trick of light. The moon had a way of spinning the truth into something more fanciful.
But it was no trick that George was leaning closer, that his head was tilting to the side just a little bit, or that his eyes were drifting shut.
The notion to protest died before it reached Hermione�s mouth. She gasped in surprise the first time George�s lips brushed over her own. It was hesitant and sweet, simple in nature, nearly as though it were a greeting. The second meeting was more lingering and accelerated quickly. Fingers fisted into hair, bodies arched towards each other and the tiny flicker of rationality flared to life in the back of Hermione�s mind. She pulled back, panting, hands resting on George�s chest.
His heart hammered beneath her fingertips, the beat echoing into her palms and aligning with her own racing pulse. �No. We can�t do this� not tonight, at least,� she half whispered, half gasped, raising pleading eyes to the man beside her.
George pulled away completely, tucking into himself and shutting Hermione out. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. He tried to shake her off, but she persisted.
�George, please�� she begged quietly, desperation seeping into the edges of her words. �I� I�ve wanted this, wanted you, for a long time.� Hermione trembled as she spoke and some of the tension left George�s frame.
�Don�t shut me out, George. Please try to understand that if this � if we � come to be, I want it to be because you want me, too. Not because you�re trying to�� she faltered before taking a deep breath and pressing on. �I want this to happen only if we both want it to happen and for no other reason.�
She sat frozen, waiting for a response. Crickets sang into the night around them and sleep began to claim the village below. After a long time George�s hand snaked up and closed over Hermione�s where it still rested on his shoulder. Carefully, he pulled it around till it was in his lap and Hermione followed.
Once more nestled into George�s side, Hermione turned again to her robes. Several impressive swipes of her wand later and a scrap of parchment had become a blanket, which they wrapped around their shoulders. A tiny glass jar was suspended in the air above them, blue bell flames licking at its sides and casting a gentle glow over the couple upon the hill. Finally, there was the book in Hermione�s hands.
She opened to a page at random and began reading. Poetry. It was a book of poetry.
Hermione�s voice floated gently on the breeze, her words a comfort to George, as was her presence. Perhaps he wasn�t as alone as he had thought� perhaps he would never have to be.
- 1
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Finding a Way to Tomorrow