Healing the Broken

Chapter 1- George's Plan

Hermione gazed out the window at the cloudless, pure blue sky. The sun was high in the air now, and everyone was outside in the sun, enjoying the warmth. It had been a cold and harsh few months after the war, ones that she wished she could forget.

But she couldn't.

The Weasley family had been kind enough to let Hermione and Harry take the two guest bedrooms as their own, and allowed them to stay with them as long as they wished. Hermione had transformed her bedroom into something that she was more than comfortable in. She had bookshelves stacked with books lining the walls, chairs and beanbag seats to lounge in and a beautiful green bedspread to sleep on, all of which she had payed for herself of course.

When the war had ended Hermione had learned a handful of terrible news. Despite the memory charms and magical spells she had casted on her parents, the Death Eaters had not only found Hermione's parents at the tail end of the war, but had killed them off after torturing them for information. When Hermione received the owl, she had refused to leave her room, and she wouldn't let anyone in. She didn't want to hear them tell her it was all okay. It wasn't.

She cracked her window during the day to let some air into the room, and Mrs. Weasley would levitate food into her room in the hopes that Hermione wouldn't starve. Hermione ate all of it, thankful for Mrs. Weasley and all of the people who cared for her. She hoped that the day she was mentally able to say anything, the first words from her mouth would be those of thanks. They didn't have to, but they helped her anyways.

Any one of them could apparate into her room and refuse to leave until she came out and talked to them, but they didn't, likely because they wanted her to come out in her own time. They had all done the same thing with George.

As she thought about all of this, she looked around her room at the mess that she had made. Drawings and papers with meaningless words were torn and crumpled up, half of them not even making it into the garbage can when she tossed them, and none of them getting picked up when she missed. Books were everywhere- she had read so many of them in her hours locked up.

And then there was a knock at the door. She hadn't heard anyone knock on her door in weeks. They had all stopped trying to get her out, let alone communicate with her. She glanced quickly out the window at the huddle of people, and counted six redheaded Weasleys, Ron, Ginny, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Percy, and found that there was no black haired boy with them.

Sure enough, his voice called to her from the other side. "Hermione. Can I talk to you, please?" She considered answering him, when he continued. "I- I miss you. A lot. I miss you all of the time, to be honest. The others keep telling me to take my mind off of you in here alone, and that you will come out in your own time... but I can't. I want to see you. I was out there with everyone and they were all having a good time, and I couldn't, because you weren't out there. Please Hermione."

The last few words sounded so sad and heartbroken, that Hermione instantly felt bad for cooping herself up in here. She hadn't really thought about the possibility of her behaviour making them sad. She thought they were merely frustrated with her. She gets to her feet and unlocks the door, opening it wide to see his face.

And then he pulls her into a tight hug, one that she falls straight into without any hesitation. The same kind of hugs that she used to give Harry and Ron when she saw them sad, or just wanted them to know how much she loved them. How much she cared for them.

"I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I know you tried to keep them safe, and I'm sorry that they're gone. I wasn't really old enough to comprehend what the loss felt like when I was younger, and I'm sorry that you have to. I'm so sorry." He says, over and over again, apologising into her hair as he hugs her in the door frame. "I'm so sorry."