Delicate - eng version

We Don't Do Things The Normal Way

Granny Jane and Grandad Hubert's house always smelled of Shepherd's Pie, almost to a point where it was sickening. See, Granny Jane always loved cooking and Grandad Hubert always loved Shepherd's Pie, so really they had to be the most compatible couple in my entire family – except for maybe Percy and Audrey, whose haughtiness and good hygiene seem to have been matched in hell. When we were children, Hugo and I, we used to visit Granny Jane and Grandad Hubert on Saturday mornings, before we'd head to The Burrow for a day of crazy fun with our cousins. And every Saturday morning, Granny Jane would be making Shepherd's Pie for that evening's dinner, while Grandad Hubert would stuff us to the high heavens with healthy 'Tooth kind' snacks.

Today, the smell of Shepherd's Pie is faded, but not absent, in the Granger house when Mum, Dad, Hugo, Scorpius and I go to see my grieving Grandmother. The house is as neat and tidy as ever, and I can't help but admire Granny Jane for that – even after her husband has passed away, she still has the energy to dust, polish and vacuum. I haven't been to the house since last summer, and I feel dreadfully guilty for it. I haven't seen Grandad Hubert since August – I can't even remember what the last thing I said to him was. Grandad Arthur I see all the time; in fact, I see all of my Weasley family all the time. But since I have no cousins, Aunts or Uncles on the Granger side, I rarely spend time with them. I know it sounds awful, but that's just how it is.

And although the Granger side is indeed small, I can't help but marvel at the amount of photographs Granny and Grandad have up on the walls. Most of them are of Hugo and me – a picture of Mum holding me in the hospital after I was born, with Dad looking very proud beside her; my first birthday, with me on Dad's knee and his arm around Mum (whose hair was significantly shorter and bushier back then); a picture of me holding Hugo just after he was born, my hair tied into two big red bunches; Hugo's first birthday, random family pictures of the four of us – and then of course there are pictures of Mum as a baby, a toddler, her first day of Muggle primary school, her first day of Hogwarts (which sits right beside my first day of Hogwarts, with me standing beside Al and Dom, grinning), Mum holding her OWL results in what looks like the kitchen of The Burrow, Mum holding her NEWT results, and Mum's wedding day.

Granny Jane is sitting in the chair by the window when we arrive, gazing out and half-smiling, as if remembering a better time in her life. It doesn't look as if she's been crying at all, and I marvel at her strength. Dad looks a bit afraid following Mum into the living room, because he's always maintained that Granny Jane never liked him, though Mum tells him to stop being so ridiculous every time he brings this up. Still, she has that look in her eye that says that Dad might just be right in his assumptions.

"Mum?"

Granny Jane jumps at the sound of Mum's voice, and I inwardly congratulate my mother for almost giving her mother a heart-attack, just after her father died of one. In case you haven't noticed, I've given up on the optimism thing. I've come to realise that one thing in my life can't possibly be going well unless another aspect is going right down the toilet. The happy thing didn't last long, did it?

Dad sticks the kettle on, while Mum sits down beside Granny Jane, and Scorpius, Hugo and I hover around not quite knowing what to do. What are you supposed to say in situations like this? Hugo and I are upset and grieving, but our grief seems pretty trivial compared to what Granny Jane and Mum must be feeling. We could say 'I'm so sorry for your loss', but technically it's our loss too. Scorpius looks extremely uncomfortable too, and I suppose he has every right to be considering this is the first time he's meeting my maternal grandmother.

It's awkward. Hugo and I hug Granny Jane and she greets Scorpius pleasantly, and he replies with a mumbled 'sorry for your loss'. She seems to be coping quite well. Mum is still sobbing silently. Dad has his arm around her shoulders, comforting her.  It's pathetic that it has to be a tragedy to bring them together, but I suppose it's better than nothing.