Chapter Four
The next morning, when Augusta awoke, she forgot where she was. Then, suddenly, she remembered. Needles poked at the back of her eyes and tears threatened to spill over. Choking back the lump that was rising in her throat, Gus took a long, hot shower. Once she was dressed and ready for the day, she went to the kitchen and looked at the clock. It was 9:00 am...that left....two hours before her father was to take her to Little Whinging.
She passed the time by tidying up around the house. At 10:30, Augusta became confused. Her father should at least be in the shower by now. Quietly making her way down the dark hallway, Augusta paused outside her father's room. She put her ear to the door to listen for any sign of movement, but there was none. Just as she was about to knock, Ron stopped her.
"Uncle Ron?"
Ron gestured for her to be quiet and brought her to the guest bedroom next door. "I'm taking you to the Dursleys. Are you ready to go?"
"Why are you taking me? What about Dad? Last night he said--"
"Your dad isn't up to taking you this morning," Ron interrupted her. "He owled me earlier this morning and asked me to take you instead."
"I don't get it...he was fine last night. He told me he'd take me!"
"Well, Augusta, your father didn't get any sleep last night. He isn't doing well, honey. He misses your mother very much."
"And I don't?! I miss her just as much as he misses her! It's not fair! He got more time with her than I did! I miss her too and I can get out of bed! Why can't he?" Ron shook his head, at a loss for words. "Let's go, Gus."
Gus shook her head. "If he's not going, then neither am I!" She knew she was being childish, but it wasn't fair! Her father needed her to take care of her.
"Fine, then. I'll go alone." As Ron stepped out of the room, Augusta instantly felt guilty and followed him. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ron. Let's go."
~*~
They took a Portkey as Ron didn't know how to drive (on the ground that is. He was rather good at driving old Ford Anglia's that flew...). He put his arm on her shoulder as they knocked on the door. "Ready, Augusta?" She nodded. They rang the doorbell and Vernon started speaking before he even opened the door. "Boy, you said you'd be here at tea time. Do you know what time it is? It's past tea time. I will not stand for my guests being so late..." He was about to continue when he realized it wasn't Harry at the door.
"Who're you lot?"
"I'm Augusta." At his blank look, she elaborated. "Augusta Potter. Harry is my father."
Vernon Dursley's eyes narrowed. He tilted his head in Ron's direction. "And you? You aren't a
freak too, are you?"
"Ron," Ron's voice cracked like it used to when he was nervous at school, "Er, my name is Ronald
Weasley sir. Best friend of Harry and..." Ron whispered, "Hermione."
"Ronald Weasley...Weasley...I've heard the name..."
"Yes, uh...my brothers and I 'rescued' Harry one summer in our flying car. We also took him to the
Quidditch World Cup when we were fourteen. And I may have called back when I didn't know how to use a
fellytone." Ron cleared his throat, trying to sound professional. "Telephone." Augusta whispered.
"Right, er, telephone."
"And you're best friends with Harry?" Ron nodded. "And Hermione? Where are they?"
"Maybe we should go inside." Augusta suggested.
As they sat down at the kitchen table, they waited for Petunia to join them. Dudley was now living in America, trying to make a living as a Boxing Champion. "Right," Petunia said. "Harry called us yesterday saying he had a matter of importance to discuss with us..."
"Yes, well, you see..."
"Uncle Ron? Do you mind if...?" Ron nodded for her to continue. "Well, my father wanted to come and tell
you himself, but he's going through a rather tough spot."
"Always knew he didn't have it in him to have a family of his own!" Vernon supplied.
"Actually, Sir, my mother died two days ago," Petunia gasped. "That's
why he's a bit off and why she's not here now, and that's why we're here." Augusta looked
down. She hated when people saw her crying.
"The funeral is in three days, if you'd like to come. It's at Hogwarts, and as there are anti-Muggle
wards, you will have to let us know if you are planning on coming by tomorrow so we can figure out how to get you
there." Ron cut in.
"How did she...?" Vernon asked, sounding not warm, but curious.
"She blocked a curse aimed for the Minister of Magic...my father." Ron wiped away a tear.
"We'll be there, dear. So will Dudley. Just let us know the plan..." Petunia said. It was rather curious
how death could bring people together.
~*~
Though Harry wore his nicest suit to the funeral, it was still clear that he hadn't showered or slept for days. As he stepped up to say a few words, he stopped to stroke the tree lovingly. "This was 'Mione's favorite tree. She used to sit under this tree for hours. Sometimes she'd bring piles of books to read. And sometimes she'd do homework...sometimes she'd just sit and think. Sometimes I'd join her. Usually I didn't, though."
Harry laughed ironically as he continued. "I used to hide, over there by that tree?" Harry pointed and everyone turned around to look. "Before she knew I loved her. I used to watcher her...the wind blowing through her hair...the way she smiled when she read something she liked. God, she was beautiful...was! Goddamnit! She IS beautiful..." Harry broke down crying. He tried to control himself, but he couldn't. If people weren't crying before, they were crying now.
Even the Durselys dabbed their eyes a bit. When Snape felt his eyes tearing, he put on his usual sneer, but it didn't help. "I'm sorry..." Harry took a deep breath in that wavered. "Uh, I wrote a letter to Hermione..." Harry cleared his throat and uncrumpled the piece of parchment as he stepped up to the microphone.
"My dear, dear Hermione:
I can still remember the first time I met you. Ron and I had just met…we were on the Hogwarts Express. In you walked, nose in the air, asking if we had seen Neville's toad." Harry paused to wipe his tears and blow his nose.
"I remember being so entranced by you, 'Mione. I was so angry with you, but still entranced. All I could think of was how you marched in talking to us in your know-it-all voice. I was so angry that you dared speak to us that way...
But then, Ron and I rescued you from that troll. I suppose that's when we became friends. Our time at Hogwarts was memorable; there's no denying that. You and Ron helped me fight off Voldemort and his followers nearly every year! You were always there for me...." Harry closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath in, he continued.
"And then we fell in love. The summer before our sixth year. That was the summer that Sirius died...." Harry shook his head. "That was when we fell in love...
My dear, dear Hermione, not a day will go by where I won't think of you. You gave me everything! You gave me love; a reason to live...you gave me a family. I know we wanted to fill the house to the brim with children. Beautiful children! I suppose that isn't going to be happening now." Harry stopped to breathe. "Do you remember that time, `Mione when you asked me what I feared? We were sitting under Your Tree. I think it was the first or second week of Sixth Year. I had you in my arms as you read one of your many books. I was just watching you, as always…suddenly, you looked up. `Harry?'"
Harry looked down as if trying to picture the scene perfectly. Harry looked up, the scene playing vividly in his mind.
'Harry?' You asked me again. You turned around looking up into my eyes. 'Hm?' I asked you. 'What do you fear?'" Harry laughed and shook his head, completely lost in the moment.
"It took me a while to think of what I feared. I feared many things. I feared Voldemort, I feared Dementors and Professor Snape." Harry paused as a few people tittered uncomfortably. "I feared spiders and the Giant Squid in the Lake...then, it hit me.'I fear death.' I told you. You seemed surprised by my answer. Don't you remember, Hermione? 'Death? How can you fear death? Death is but the next great adventure!' You argued.
'Death takes away people.' I countered. 'I fear losing the people I love.' I confessed to you." Harry ended his story and continued on:
"Well, Hermione, I don't fear death anymore." Harry looked up to the sky and opened his arms wide. "ASK ME WHAT I FEAR!" Harry shouted to the sky. There was no response. Then, barely audibly, Harry said, "I fear life without you."
Augusta couldn't contain herself any longer. She promised herself she wasn't going to cry...she wasn't. But seeing her father so...so vulnerable made her break her promise. When the tears started running, she just wiped them away. But when violent sobs racked her body, she needed to leave. She was sitting in the first row so when she ran down the aisle, everyone turned around and watched them, pity etched onto their faces.
She ran down the path as her tears and runny nose mixed together. Her braids whipped behind her as she gained speed and when she entered the school, she slumped to the ground, her crying getting the best of her.
She didn't know what to do! She had never felt so lost before. Usually when she felt bad, she'd dance...if she didn't have the space to dance, she'd read. But she didn't feel it was appropriate to dance at her mother's funeral and she hadn't brought a book along...not like reading was appropriate either, though.
Not knowing what else to do, she pushed up the sleeve of her robes. Fingering her cut gently, she realized what she needed to do. Looking for a sharp edge, but not finding one, Augusta slipped off her ring. Her mother had given it to her when she was accepted to Hogwarts. It was emerald--the same color as her eyes--and it had the sharp edges belonging to the flower petals. Perfect.
When she saw the blood flowing, a sense of relief washed over her. Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps coming. "Evanesco!" Still, the spell had no effect. Finally, after the third try, the blood disappeared. She definitely needed to practice that. The footsteps stopped.
Looking behind her, she saw the all too familiar black robes of the Potions Master. He had seen her. But why was he going back to the funeral if he had seen her? Surely he would want to discuss the matter...maybe he hadn't seen. Or maybe he simply did not care.
~*~
When Augusta had finally returned to the funeral, she tried to avoid everyone's eyes. She knew what they were thinking: Poor girl. Poor, poor little girl. Lost her mother and is losing her father to heartbreak. As they lowered her mother's body into the ground, it took all of Augusta's willpower to not latch on to the casket screaming, "Mummy! Mummy, come back...I need you!" But she knew it was not right. She didn't want to make everyone feel even sadder than they already did. Besides, she had just cut...and that made her feel a bit better, anyhow.
~*~
Once Hermione Granger was buried in the ground, Harry looked around, clueless. What was he supposed to do now? He must have looked at loss, because Augusta jumped up to her father's side. Grasping his hand tightly, she whispered, "Daddy, let's go home." He nodded and they made their way to the Ministry car waiting for them.
As they walked down the aisle, Augusta saw Charlotte. She was sitting in between her parents, sobbing into her mother's arms. Instantly this angered Augusta. Why should Charlie be sad?! It wasn't as if she didn't have a mother anymore! It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!
As they passed the Charlotte, Gus looked away. The last person she wanted to see right now was Charlie. Passing Charlie's family, Ron stood up and joined them. Although Gus was nearly eleven, he scooped her up into his arms. "You okay, sweetheart?" Gus couldn't respond. How could she say she wasn't? It just wasn't the time or place. Besides, Ron loved her, too. "I miss her, too, Gus." As he put her down, Augusta managed a small smile and murmured, "I know." Taking her father's hand again, they were off.
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