Always- a Hinny / Romione fanfic

Chapter Nineteen: You Call Yourself Our Mother

* Harry's P.O.V *

I didn't think I could eat another bite.

But even so, Mrs. Weasley was back in the kitchen, bustling around with at least ten different desserts to finish.

George was standing on his chair, howling with laughter along with Ron, Ginny, Charlie, and Bill, as he made the bones of the polished off chicken tap-dance around the room. It sprayed Hermione on the nose with gravy.

"Hermione..." Ron laughed, turning to her. "You've got gravy, on the side of your nose. Did you know? Just there." He howled with laughter as the chicken salsaed across the table.

"Ha ha," Hermione replied sarcastically, reaching for a napkin.

"Fred! Stop goofing off and help me in here will you!?"

The kitchen went dead silent.

The chicken dropped onto the table with a loud clunk.

Mrs. Weasley, realizing her mistake, started to sob, apologizing incoherently as tears poured out of her eyes.

I heard George mutter, quietly, one single tear just poking out of one blue eye.

"Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother."

***

I lay alone on my bed, in the room Ron and I were sharing.

I left the table immediately, hiding out here.

A knot of undying guilt welled up in the pit of my stomach.

I remembered the battle, how, really, it was all my fault, that Fred was dead, that George had lost a brother, that Mrs. Weasley had lost a son.

If I had just given myself up in the first place, before the battle started, I could've saved him.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.

"Harry, it's Ginny, I know you're in there moping. Open up."

I rolled by eyes and let her in.

She searched my face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, correctly reading my expression.

"I'm just thinking about Fred." I said finally, plopping down, as though carrying a heavy weight on my shouldes. "And how it's all my fault"

"It's not your-"

"If I would've just left your family alone, everyone-"

"Shut up!" She shouted, cutting over my words, standing up. "Don't ever say that! Fred knew what he was doing, going into that battle, and so did everyone else."

We looked at eachother for a moment, her panting ever so slightly.

"And as for you leaving us alone? Harry, you're part of this family. You've been part of this family ever since you got your first Weasley sweater."

I smiled the smallest of all small smiles, remembering that golden Christmas. She was right, I had always loved being with the Weasleys. It was like actually having a family.

She tilted her head a bit, a faint grin on her face.

"I never told you who made you your first Weasley sweater, did I?" She asked, taking my hand.

I shook my head. "Who?"

"It was me."

***

* Hermione's P.O.V *

"- I feel so bad for your mum,"

"It's alright, she'll be fine, it's George I'm worried about. He was finally doing alright you know? Finally started eating again, started joking, laughing, smiling ."

I felt a stab in my heart. It was all too awful. We stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Well," I said finally "we should really get to bed. Tomorrow is Christmas Day."

"Yes, well, goodnight 'Mione," he smiled, giving me a quick peck on the forehead.

He opened the door to his and Harry's room.

I shrieked.

Ron whirled around.

Inside was Harry and Ginny, kissing so fiercely, more heatedly than either of us had seen them before. Their hands were running across eachothers backs.

It was for a split second that Ron and I stood, immobile, before he roared.

"OI! Potter! Off my sister!" Then he ran at them.

I grabbed the back of his shirt, holding him back, but he was much too strong. He broke free and grabbed Harry by the navy blue neck of his short sleeved gray shirt. ( A/N: 😏)

"Don't. You. Ever-"

"They were only kissing Ron!" I shouted exasperatedly, as Ginny rolled her eyes furiously, a scowl on her face.

"Ron, leave us alone." She hissed.

Harry held his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

Ron crossed his arms and stomped over to his bed

Ginny whispered in Harry's ear

"Too bad I have a bloody brother, interrupting everything," then she stormed out, with a half wave over her shoulder.

I said a timid goodnight, then scurried out after her.

***

* Third-person P.O.V *

Sometimes, Molly Weasley really hated Lilly Potter.

She knew it was wrong of her to hate a dead woman, especially a woman who was kind and true and brave, and who had done so much for the world as a whole

But the reason she hated her so much, was that her love was strong enough to save her son, to let him live, give him a chance, give him a life.

Molly wondered what had she done that could do that.

What could she herself had done to save Fred?

Was her love not good enough?

A tear rolled down her cheek as she lay in the dead of night.

Sometimes she just hated Lilly Potter

***

A/N: soooo what did you think????