A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.
You know when it's time to go
… Sometimes, givin' up is the strong thing
Sometimes, to run is the brave thing.
Sometimes, walkin' out is the one thing.
That will find you the right thing.
Sometimes, givin' up is the strong thing.
Sometimes, to run is the brave thing.
Sometimes, walkin' out is the one thing.
That will find you the right thing
~ it's time to go by Taylor Swift
~*~ 4th May 1998 ~*~
Hermione woke up in her bed in the Gryffindor Tower feeling disoriented. Her head pounded in rhythm with her pulse, a dull ache behind her eyes. Slowly sitting up, she groaned, swinging her legs over the bed. She was about to stand up when Ron entered the room, the door slamming against the wall behind it. "Ron!?" She yelled, startled, "How did you even get up here?!"
Ron stood in the darkened doorway, his eyes wild. "Did you get one too?" Ron asked, looking around the room.
"Get one what?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Harry's gone," Ron stated, handing her the letter. "He's taken off."
Her heart dropped as she took it from him, her heart racing as she silently read it. Her breath caught in her throat as she read over the page.
Dear Ron,
Mate, I know this isn't how you expected to hear from me. Not after everything we've been through. I should've told you face to face. I tried, really I did, but something stopped me. The quiet, the peace, is what I am chasing. I didn't want to break it.
I'm not staying. I was afraid you'd talk me out of it, so I chickened out. Hermione said something earlier today, and it's been playing in my head ever since. She said that I don't have to save everyone. Sometimes, you have to save yourself first. I don't know if she meant it like I took it, but it hit me hard, Ron. She's right. I've spent so long trying to live up to what everyone needed from me, what my dad wanted, but I never could finish what the world expected of me. But now that it's over… I just need to find out who I am. Not who I had to be.
After everyone had gone to bed, I stayed up thinking of it all. I went and found Kingsley. We talked, and I told him that despite his offer, I would not join the Auror office. I know that's what we always planned and said we'd do together. But that was before I had to kill him.
The truth is, fighting the bad guys was never really a dream. It was just survival. It was something that was forced onto us, and now that I have had a moment to breathe, I don't know who I am without it. I want to see who I am without war.
I'll write, I promise. I'm not disappearing forever. I just need space. Time. I need to do this on my own.
There is one more thing. Hermione. Please take care of her. She's stronger than both of us combined, but my leaving will hurt her. I went to her room to say goodbye, and she was already asleep. The bruises and scratches on her were because of me, and she looked so peaceful. I couldn't wake her. I couldn't say the words.
So, as my brother in all but name, I am asking you to make her happy. Treat her well. She deserves the world. I know you can give it to her. Thanks, mate, for being there and making me laugh when nothing else could. You and Hermione are my family. I'll come back. I need to find myself first.
Harry
A single tear fell down her cheek as she got to the part about how he asked Ron to take care of her. Her fingers trembled as she lowered the letter into her lap.
"He didn't say goodbye to me," she whispered, feeling gutted.
Ron swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. "He said he went to your room. You were asleep, and he didn't want to wake you. Not when you've been having the nightmares."
"But he didn't leave me anything?" She asked as she stood, desperately looking around. "No letter like yours."
She saw Ron hesitate and turned to him. "Ron?!"
"There is one," he said with a pause. "But I thought it'd be longer. I thought it'd be… I don't know. More than this." He reached into his pocket, withdrew an envelope, and pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment. "I was going to give it to you, but I hoped he put one in here with you."
Hermione took it from him and unfolded it slowly as if it would shatter into pieces.
Just two words stared back at her in Harry's messy scrawl.
I'm sorry
Hermione blinked once, twice, just staring at the page as if more might appear, but nothing did.
Ron watched as she folded the paper back, her fingers now trembling. She would not cry. Not yet.
The silence around them deafened her to the point that she could hear her heart beating within her ears.
"He left," she said more to herself than to Ron. "And that's all he said."
Ron stepped closer to her. "He'll be back. He just… needs to figure himself out. You know Harry."
She nodded, numb, still holding the note as if it would vanish if she let go. Attempting to clear the lump in her throat, she looked at Ron. "Let me get dressed, and then we will see if we can find Kingsley."
~*~ 5 May 1998 ~*~
When she heard Kingsley's voice, Hermione was in the hospital wing, visiting and helping those with minor injuries who did not require transport to St Mungo's.
"Are there any additional wounded that need to be transported?"
Hermione left one of the Ravenclaws' bedsides as they slept and walked around the curtain, stalking over to Kingsley. "Tell me where he is!"
Kingsley looked at her. "Miss Granger."
"Tell me, where Harry is," Hermione annunciated.
Kingsley sighed as he looked over toward Madam Pomfrey. "Madam Pomphrey, can we use your office for some privacy?"
"Of course." She nodded as she went back to treat another victim.
Hermione followed Kingsley into the office, where he shut the door behind her. Before he could even speak, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Where is Harry?"
Kingsley leaned back against Madam Pomfrey's desk and looked at her. "He came to me saying that he wished to get away. He was tired of the expectations on him, and he wanted to go somewhere where he could learn to be himself. So, I contacted some people, and he left early this morning.
"Tell me where he is!" Hermione stressed.
"I cannot do that," Kingsley told her as she threw her arms up and clenched her hands in anger. "It's against his wishes, even for you. I am sorry that is not what you wanted to hear." Kingsley watched her pace. "It is for six months, if not longer, depending on his wishes. If you want to write to him, I will ensure he receives your letters."
Hermione swallowed hard. "You have to give me something, Kings."
"All I can tell you is that he is safe. This is what he wants, Hermione. We have to respect it," Kingsley told her.
Hermione swallowed back the nausea that had suddenly crept up and opened the office door, fleeing the hospital wing where Ron stood as if waiting for her. "I have to get out of here," she whispered to him.
Ron took her hand. "Come home with me."
Hermione nodded
Stepping out of the floo into the Burrow's family room, Hermione grabbed the side of the fireplace as she tried to let the dizzy spell pass.
"You okay?" Ron asked, concerned.
Hermione nodded as she inhaled the comforting scents of the Burrow. Roasted chicken with rosemary and garlic. It made her mouth water.
Stepping into the family room with Ron beside her, the air inside was heavy. The usual chatter of the Weasleys was missing. The chaos in the kitchen was even muted. Pots were clanging. A kettle was hissing. Mrs. Weasley was at the stove, her wand stirring a large pot while directing a knife to chop carrots. Fleur moved beside her, making Hermione freeze. Mrs. Weasley was letting Fleur help in the kitchen.
Mr. Weasley looked up from the Prophet as he saw them, standing immediately, his face morphing into a smile.
"Hermione, it's so good to have you here," he said, opening his arms.
Hermione hesitated for just a moment before folding into his hug. The warmth of it gave her a feeling of safety. Without realizing it, she was clinging to his cardigan as her eyes burned.
"Thank you," she whispered as she stepped back, wiping her eyes, "I hope you don't mind that I came over. It's just… with Harry gone, the castle feels so wrong."
The room was already quiet, but it fell eerily still. The chopping stopped.
Fleur looked at her sharply, and Mrs. Weasley froze with the spoon midair.
"What do you mean, Harry's gone?" Mrs. Weasley asked slowly.
Hermione's heart sank as she turned to Ron, "You didn't tell them?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably, "I didn't know how. I thought he'd change his mind and be back before anyone noticed."
George stopped short, "Back? Where the bloody hell is he?"
Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose. "He left. The night after the ceremony. No one, not even us, knows exactly where. He told Kingsley, but he's not sharing."
The spoon in Mrs. Weasley's hand clattered to the floor. "He just left? Without saying goodbye?"
Hermione looked at the floor. "He didn't even say goodbye to me or Ron. Just left letters saying that he needed space. He told Kingsley where he was going. That's all we know."
Mrs. Weasley gripped the counter. "But he should have come here. He should know that this is his home as long as he wants it."
"Kingsley said he needed time, and he asked for people not to know where he went," Ron told her.
"That boy-" Mrs. Weasley's voice cracked, "He's still just a child, and he's been through hell, and now he's just gone?"
Fleur placed her hand on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, murmuring something in French.
Fred, who was sitting at the table, slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. "He saved everyone, and now we're letting him disappear? Seriously?!"
"He's not running away," Hermione told him, wishing she knew that her words were true. "It's just too much, and he needs to breathe."
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat as the kettle whistled. "We will give him time. He deserves that at least."
Ron sank into a chair at the table, and Hermione followed, hands tight in her lap. Looking around, she noticed Ginny wasn't around. She assumed that Ginny was upstairs. Charlie was still here, and Percy… Hermione's throat tightened… would never be here again.
"Dinner's ready," Mrs. Weasley said, and with a flick of her wand, the plates floated toward the table. "Eat up, all of you."
Hermione found herself between Fleur and Ron as steaming plates and bowls were passed around. Mrs. Weasley called upstairs for Ginny, and George told her that he would go upstairs to fetch her, sharing the news.
Glancing beside Ron, the two seats beside him remained empty. Harry and Ginny's. Closing her eyes briefly, she wondered how long it would be until that seat was filled again and inhaled as Charlie dropped into it.
Putting more green beans into her mouth, she slowly chewed on them. It just felt wrong.
The soft ticking of the clock on the mantel was making Hermione's eyelids grow heavy as she sat in the sitting room of the Burrow with a full belly for the first time in nearly a week. Despite her trying to refuse a second and third helping, Mrs. Weasley insisted. Hermione moved her head around, trying to stretch her neck, and spotted the family grandfather's clock. Since she had last seen it, it had been updated. Mortal Peril was still in the spot of number 12, and only one hand remained there. Percy's. Permanently stuck in that position. It still had the locations: home, school, work, traveling, lost, hospital, and prison. But now that most of the Weasleys had moved out, it also had WW3, Shell Cottage, and Charlie's listed as well. All the hands were piled upon each other at home, except Percy's.
Hermione curled her legs under her as she sat at the corner of the couch. Ron's warm presence beside her gave her comfort. He wasn't saying anything to her, just sitting with her, letting her rest her shoulder against his. Mr. Weasley and Bill sat side-by-side in the mismatched armchairs, talking over tea.
"They've already sacked five," Mr. Weasley said in a quiet voice, "Five department heads with connections to Yaxley. Kingsley's not taking chances with sympathizers."
"It will be impossible, but they'll need to rebuild the entire structure of the Ministry overnight," Bill replied, "Some of these sympathizers weren't even Death Eaters. They just were followers."
Hermione's eyes were growing heavy as she listened, her head feeling just as heavy as it kept trying to fall on Ron's shoulder. Her chest ached, not with pain, but a strange, tight pressure that burned just behind her sternum. She shifted a little, rubbing it. Another annoying remnant of the Cruciatus curse.
Footsteps padded down the stairs, and Mrs. Weasley appeared, hands in her apron pockets. "Hermione, sweetheart," she said gently, "Your usual bed is ready for you in Ginny's room."
Hermione blinked slowly, trying to shake the drowsiness. "Thank you," she said as she put her hand to her mouth, and a small burp escaped her lips. Her cheeks flamed. "So sorry. I ate too much. My stomach isn't used to it anymore."
Mrs. Weasley waved her off, "As long as you're staying here, we'll remedy that. But is there something wrong with your chest, dear?"
Hermione realized that her fingers were absentmindedly rubbing the center of her chest and lowered her hand. "Just some discomfort, after I eat lately."
Mrs. Weasley disappeared into the kitchen and returned, offering Hermione a small glass of milk and a pair of familiar, round, chalky tablets. "I know these are muggle," she said, "But they're the best when I have heartburn. I keep them for Arthur."
Hermione smiled as she took them, crunching the tablets before sipping the milk. "Thank you. I never even thought of heartburn. I thought I was too young."
Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "I was just your age when I started getting it. Of course," she added as Charlie came into the house through the kitchen, removing his boots, "It was because of this one."
Charlie entered the room with a grin, his hair long and wind-blown from being outside, and leaned in to kiss his mother's cheek before flopping down on the other side of Ron.
"What did I do this time?" He asked.
"You gave me raging heartburn for six months before you were born," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling on his hair slightly, "It's an old wives' tale that a baby with a full head of hair causes it. You came out with enough to braid."
Charlie stretched out his long legs. "Budge over, Ronnie," he said, nudging Ron's foot, "And I only cut it because you made me. Remember the time she tried to make me bald in my third year?"
"Your hair was so wild that year, you looked like a lion," Mr. Weasley stated.
"You'd look so handsome with it trimmed back again," Mrs. Weasley said fondly.
"Mum," Charlie warned, "Let it go, I'm 25 years old."
Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Fine. Goodnight, everyone."
"Night, Mum," They chorused.
"Well," Mr. Weasley said, slapping his knees, groaning slightly as he straightened. "I think I'll head to bed too. Hermione, I'm glad you're here."
Hermione smiled at him, "Thank you for letting me stay."
"You are family, dear," he said gently before nodding to his sons and following his wife upstairs.
"Where's Gin?" Charlie asked, moving a throw pillow behind his head.
"Out flying, she didn't take the news of Harry very well," George told him, standing up from the floor to sit in Mr. Weasley's chair. "Probably hiding out in Dad's shed where she knows Mum won't go."
"Did any of us?" Fred asked, looking at her and Ron, "Where do you think he could have gone?"
Ron shrugged, "Not a clue."
Hermione shifted, and a sharp pain shot under her ribs, briefly taking her breath away.
"You okay?" Ron asked, hearing her gasp.
"Shifted wrong," Hermione said, putting her legs to the floor as she rubbed her rib, "I think I am going to head upstairs too."
~*~ 6 May 1998 ~*~
Inside the tent, Hermione watched him, his jaw clenched as he stewed in silence. Biting her lip, the weight in her chest was unbearable. Unable to resist, she walked back out of the tent. "Come to bed," she said gently.
Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she saw his eyes flutter shut. "I need to finish the watch."
"No, you need rest too," she insisted, running her fingers through his hair. He leaned his head into her touch. "Come to bed. Our charms are set. It's safe."
Harry exhaled, then pushed himself to stand, taking her hand as she led him into the tent. Slowly, she peeled the damp layers of his clothing from his body, kissing the reddened skin over his heart where the scarlet oval lay on his scarred skin. Still red and angry. "I'm sorry I couldn't heal it better."
After weeks of practice, Harry pulled every layer from the top half of her body with one try. Lacing his fingers into hers, he whispered, "Don't worry about it."
Hermione moaned as his lips crashed into hers, reminding her that he was alive. He was well. They both were. His mouth moved across hers. Desperate, hungry. She clung to him.
"Hermione." He breathed against her skin.
"Say it again," Hermione gasped as Harry kissed down her neck.
"Hermione!" But the voice was wrong.
Hermione's eyes snapped open to see Ron standing over her, concerned. As she bolted up, too fast, nausea hit her suddenly. She barely had time to grab the wastebasket next to Ginny's bed as she vomited bile, the only thing in her stomach.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked, moving away, grabbing a shirt, and throwing it at her.
Hermione groaned, falling back against the spare bed in Ginny's room. "My head hurts again," she muttered as she ran her hand over her forehead.
Ron scourgified her hands and helped her stand, "Let's go get you something to eat. You probably ate too much last night. Even my stomach was off after eating so much last night."
Hermione nodded weakly and swallowed back the bile that tried to come as she stood. Slowly following him out of Ginny's room, the hallway wavered. The room tilted as she turned the corner, and Ron's voice grew distant as if he were calling for her from underwater. The stairwell grew darker as the shadows grew.
She grabbed the railing, and everything around her spun. Pressure built in her skull, in her chest. Gasping, she wondered how someone was forcing her disapparation. Her knees buckled as she closed her eyes.
Everything went black.
~*~ 7 May 1998 ~*~
The next time Hermione opened her eyes, it was to the sound of shouting. Voices cut through the fog in her head. She nearly yelled out for them to stop yelling when she finally recognized the voices.
"How could you, Ron?!"
"Mum, you're going to wake the whole bloody hospital. Keep your voice down!"
Their words echoed sharply and pounded inside her skull. Hermione moaned, shifting slightly.
"Hermione?"
Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes, blinking, her vision blurry. "Where am I?"
"St. Mungo's," Ron answered, sitting on the edge of her bed. "You fainted on the stairs."
Molly scoffed just beyond Ron, and he turned to give her a look. "Mum, please give us a moment."
Hermione frowned as she turned and stomped away out of the room. "Why is she so upset?"
Ron swallowed hard. "Hermione, you're… pregnant." He stated, his jaw tight.
Hermione's breath caught, and her hand flew to her mouth. "No. No, I can't be."
Ron bit his lip. "You are," he told her softly, "And you're pretty far along, too. Did you and Harry know?"
A tear slid down her face at the realization, her lips trembling. "Oh my god. Harry."
Ron exhaled. "Yeah, Mum… she assumed the baby was mine. She saw us together after the battle." Ron sighed, looking at her hand. "Honestly, I think it's best until we tell Harry if everyone thinks so. Thinks we are together. Not until you've talked to him."
A knock sounded on the door, and a woman poked her head into the room, wearing soft green robes. "Knock, knock! Good, she is awake." She said as she entered the room. "Hello, Miss Granger. I am Healer Lemon. Lovely to meet you."
Hermione swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise again. "Hello, is what Ron tells me true?"
"That you are with child? Yes." Healer Lemon nodded. "You are very malnourished, though, if this weren't a magical pregnancy," her voice softened. "You could have lost the baby by now. Did you know that you were pregnant?"
Hermione shook her head as her hand went to her flat stomach, "No, I'm not even showing. Shouldn't I be showing?"
"The way your pelvis sits, combined with your level of malnutrition, we call it a stealth pregnancy. It's rare, but not unheard of." Healer Lemon told her. "Stress was, I'm sure, a factor as well."
She looked at Ron, then back at Hermione. "I know what the Prophet was saying, but is it true that you were hiding?"
Hermione nodded. "We were running. Constantly. Avoiding the Snatchers."
"Camping all over the place," Ron added. "Eating whatever we could find. Would that hurt the baby?"
"We will find out. When was your last period?" Healer Lemon asked.
Hermione glanced at Ron, who looked away, suddenly shy. She cleared her throat. "Sometime in September or October. After we left… our safehouse."
Healer Lemon pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, you aren't that far along. I'd estimate conception near late November, possibly early December."
Hermione's eyes fluttered shut. "That sounds… right."
Healer Lemon waved her wand over her. "I want to keep you here for a few days. Get you on some nutritional potions and monitor both of you to be safe." She paused. "Do you have a place to go afterward?"
Ron answered quickly. "She's staying at my home."
"Good, since we can't be certain how far along you are. We cannot be sure when you deliver," Healer Lemon told her. "We will have to watch you closely."
Hermione cleared her throat, "It had to be between the end of November and right after Christmas."
She nodded. "I'll be back shortly."
As the door clicked shut, Hermione started sobbing. Ron took a breath as Hermione cried so hard that her shoulders shook. "So… the whole 'I see her like a sister' thing Harry fed me was just a load of rubbish?"
Hermione didn't look at him as she angrily wiped her tears. "He's not exactly here to ask now, is he?"
Ron's jaw tightened, but he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "We need to tell Harry."
Hermione let out an exhausted laugh. "No shit, Sherlock."
Ron blinked at her, confused by the expression.
Hermione shook her head, rubbing her eyes, "Sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you. I'm just…" she trailed off, trying to find the words as all the weird things happening to her body lately suddenly clicked at the same time. "I'm overwhelmed. I always took birth control to regulate my periods. I started it when I was fifteen, to regulate everything. But when we were on the run, I couldn't get to a chemist. I didn't even think about it."
Ron shifted, "Well… I'm here. Until Harry gets back, I mean."
Hermione looked up at him, "Are you sure? You don't… have to be."
Ron gave her a crooked half-smile. "I might not be the dad, but I'm not going to leave you alone in this. Not now. Plus, I'm godfather, right?"
Hermione chuckled, wiping her tears, "Who else would be?"
Ron squeezed her shoulder, and Hermione let herself lean into him.
Ron sat down next to her on the bed, and she moved over for him, drawing her knees to her chest.
They sat in silence for a moment, the air between them heavy.
"So," Ron said, breaking the silence. "You said end of November, until I came back… how long after I left did you two get together?"
Hermione winced. "It wasn't like that, Ron," Hermione said softly. "Honestly, it started with the fact that we were so damn cold we started sharing a cot. Then we got to this Scottish Loch. It was so windy and cold. Harry was being hard on himself, realizing that we would probably die, and he had never had sex." Hermione looked at Ron, "Ron, I'll be honest, I have fancied Harry since our third year. But he never showed me interest, you never did until our fourth year. At some point last year, I realized Ginny was interested in him, and he was interested in her. I was so damn jealous of Lavender, and you, too. Just a teenager confused, "she sighed, "When he said he was going to die a virgin… we both were… it just happened."
"Just once?" Ron asked quietly.
Hermione bit her lip, "No."
Ron stood up, pacing in the small room, "You told her Christmas Eve. So, it never happened after I returned, right?"
Hermione swallowed hard, "Just once more."
Ron stopped pacing and pulled his hair. "So, while I was on watch, you two were screwing each other's brains out? Hiding it from me?" Ron asked.
"No, Ron, it didn't happen like that. Once you returned, things changed between us," Hermione explained, "There was tension there, and he avoided me."
"Because he was a bloody bastard stealing my girl," Ron snapped.
"I wasn't, and am still not, your girl," Hermione stated.
Ron looked at her, "You kissed me in the Chamber of Secrets!"
"No, you kissed me." Hermione explained, "Then you kissed me again when I hugged you afterward. Two kisses don't mean we are in a relationship, Ron."
Ron continued pacing, then looked at her sharply, "Wait, it didn't happen while we were on the run? When did it?"
"After the battle," Hermione explained, looking at the ceiling, "I think he knew… he'd already made his choice, that he was leaving. It was his way of saying goodbye."
Ron collapsed into the chair next to her bed. "What are we going to do, Hermione?"
Hermione put her face in her hands, "I don't know. I can barely comprehend that I am pregnant in the first place, Ron."
A light knock sounded on the door, and it creaked open, revealing Mr. Weasley. He looked at them, shutting the door behind himself. "I thought I'd check in. How are you feeling, Hermione?"
Hermione wiped her eyes, "Like I've been hit with every emotional curse known to mankind."
Mr. Weasley stepped over to her bed. "The Healers say you'll be able to leave tomorrow morning. Molly's already making plans. But I think… it might be good for you two to start thinking about arrangements."
Ron ran his hands down his face, looking up at his father, "Can we… wait until we get home? Just not tonight."
Arthur nodded. "Of course, one step at a time. See you tomorrow." Then he left, closing the door behind him.
Hermione laid her head back against the pillows. "One step at a time."
Healer Lemon stopped in just before dinner to check on Hermione and give her the next round of potions. Hermione took them, shuddering as the bitter taste hit her tongue.
"I'm sorry," Healer Lemon said sympathetically. "Adding flavouring changes its effectiveness. If you do not need anything else, I'll stop in before I head home."
"Actually," Hermione stated, hesitating for a moment. "Could you bring me some parchment? I'd like to write a letter."
"Of course, I'll be back with a glass for you to wash that down," Healer Lemon told her as she turned and left the room.
Hermione laid her head back against the pillow with a tired sigh. Closing her eyes, she laid her hand on her stomach. "Hello, little one."
As if the realization that someone was sharing her body finally hit her, Hermione felt a slight movement for the first time. A real sign that she wasn't alone.
"Do you want to know the sex of your baby?" Healer Lemon asked as Hermione heard the glass touch the table beside her bed.
Hermione opened her eyes as she sat back up and took the quill and parchment as it was handed to her. "I'm not sure yet."
"It is something to discuss with Mr. Weasley, I'm sure. Just let me know. The monitoring spell shows that they are doing well," Healer Lemon stated, nodding behind her bed.
Hermione noticed the glowing display behind her, showing runes and text for the first time.
"Their levels are improving, as is yours. I will feel comfortable sending you home tomorrow with nutritional and prenatal potions," Healer Lemon told her as she looked at the clock. "A medi-witch should be by with your dinner soon."
Hermione licked her dry lips and nodded. "Thank you."
Healer Lemon gave her a warm smile and then left her room.
Hermione reached over, took a drink, and laid the parchment on her raised legs. Biting her lip, she put the quill to the parchment.
Dear Harry,
Why did you run?
I've gone over every moment, every word, every glance between us, and still, I don't understand. One day you were here, then you weren't. No goodbye. No note to me. No explanation. Nothing.
Did something happen between you and Ginny? Is that why you left?
I deserve more than the silence that screams louder than any argument we've ever had.
Hermione stared at the last words, frowning. She bit her lip, took her wand, and erased the previous sentence.
I'm angry, Harry. Furious actually. But most of all, I'm hurt. You left me with all these pieces and no way to put them back together.
But more than anything, I need to know. Are you okay?
Please, Harry. Just tell me that you're safe. That you're alive. That wherever you are, you're breathing, still thinking, and still the same person who looked at me and promised that he'd never leave me behind when we lay together in the tent.
Because right now, I feel very left behind.
Something has happened, something that I can't explain in a letter. I need you to come to the Burrow now. I am staying there, and I can't do this alone. Percy's funeral is coming up. We're all barely holding it together. And I NEED you.
So come home. Please, Harry.
Just come home. Tell me you're okay. Tell me you're coming back.
Love,
Hermione.
~*~ 8 May 1998 ~*~
Hermione awoke the next day to the feeling of someone tucking her body in. She blinked to get rid of the dryness in her eyes and saw Mrs. Weasley messing with her sheets.
"Did I wake you?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly as their eyes met.
Hermione swallowed, her throat also dry, and Mrs. Weasley handed her a glass of water at her bedside. "Thanks." With a sip, she handed it back. "I was already waking up."
Mrs. Weasley nodded and sat on the edge of her bed, taking Hermione's hand. "Hermione," she said softly. "Why didn't you tell us? If we knew, we wouldn't have let you fight in the battle."
Hermione sighed, fighting the urge to wrench her hand from hers. "I didn't know."
"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, taking a breath, "This baby is such a blessing after losing my Percy."
Hermione's heart pounded in her ears. She was about to open her mouth to speak, to correct her, as Ron walked through the door with Healer Lemon behind him, discussing her potion regimen. "Morning."
Healer Lemon smiled. "Ah, good. You are awake. I am officially releasing you to go home."
Hermione's chest tightened as her heart raced. She tried not to yell out, "It's not my home! Harry is my home!" Instead, she licked her lips and replied with a fake smile, "Great."
Hermione buried her face in Ron's chest as she spun rapidly through the Floo network. The spinning finally stopped as Ron stepped through the floor, carrying her carefully in his arms.
The sitting room was full when they arrived. With almost the entire Weasley family gathered. Only the elder Weasleys, who had yet to come through, and Percy were the only ones missing.
Charlie was the first to react, jumping up from his armchair and patting the cushion, "Sit her here."
"I can walk, Ron," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes as he lowered her into the chair and she settled in.
Ron gave her a look. "Healer Lemon told you to take it easy. No stress and stay off your feet as much as possible until your next appointment."
Hermione sighed and shifted, looking at all the redheads staring at her, watching her as if she were in a zoo. "I'm not a dementor, you lot," she said dryly, "Just pregnant."
George walked over and slapped Ron hard on the back, grinning wide. "Way to go, Ronnie. Giving Mum her first grandchild. Bet she didn't think you would be the first."
Hermione bit her lip and glanced at Ron as the fireplace lit up again, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived. "We have to tell them."
Ron hesitated, squeezing her shoulder. "Are you sure?"
Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah, we can trust them. All of them."
Mr. Weasley had barely settled into his chair when he caught the look on their faces. "What is it, dear? What do you need to tell us?"
Hermione inhaled deeply, then reached for her wand. "Everything."
She locked the doors, sealed the floo, and cast wards around the room, repelling, silencing, shielding, just in case. When she was done, she placed her wand on the table next to her. Ron sat down at her feet.
"The prophecy was true, but it wasn't the full story. Voldemort… he created things… objects… called horcruxes. Pieces of his soul. That's why he couldn't die. He scattered them around to make sure he was safe." Hermione looked at Ginny, "The diary was one of them."
Ginny turned pale, and gasps echoed around the room.
"He split his soul, seven times," Hermione continued. "We were hunting them while we were on the run. We just had no clue what they were. Harry destroyed the diary, Dumbledore destroyed Slytherin's ring, and we had a fake locket that should have been a horcrux, and that's all Dumbledore gave us to go off of, because destroying them was the only way for Harry to win."
Together, Ron and Hermione recounted their journey from Bill and Fleur's wedding, to Grimmauld, to the Ministry, the forest camps, the near starvation, and the close calls. When they reached November, Ron moved his face into Hermione's leg.
"I didn't handle it well," Ron admitted, "The horcrux seemed to mess with me more. I was still recovering from being splinched, and I snapped. I took it out on both of them, and I left."
Mrs. Weasley gasped. "You left them!?"
Ron nodded, "I'm not proud of it," he said, looking up at her, "I didn't tell any of you. I went to Bill and Fleur's for a bit."
All eyes turned to Bill, who nodded. "He did. Didn't say much. Stayed only a few weeks."
Ron swallowed. "A week or so before Christmas, I realized what a mistake I'd made. It was Christmas time, and I'd abandoned them. So I left again, went looking for them. Dumbledore left me this," Ron pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket. "It helped me find my way back to them after Christmas."
The room was quiet for a moment, then Mrs. Weasley spoke. "But… the healer at St. Mungo's said you were pregnant before Christmas."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny's growl cut through the silence. She had turned pale, then red, "You're kidding me?!"
Hermione looked at her, "Ginny-"
Then Ginny lunged. Bill caught her in time, dragging her backward as she screamed, "You slept with him?! You slept with him while he was MY boyfriend?! You absolute-"
"Outside!" Bill snapped, shoving the door open and pushing Ginny through it before slamming it shut.
Hermione sat frozen, staring at the shut door, tears in her eyes. "Yes, the baby is Harry's."
Arthur sat forward in his chair. "And Harry? Does he know?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, not yet. I wrote him a letter at St. Mungo's, asking him to contact us, and sent it to Kingsley explaining. I don't want to tell him in a letter."
Ron cleared his throat as he stood to look at his family. "Until we can tell him ourselves, if anyone asks, if the press comes snooping… It's mine."
"What?" George asked, surprised.
Ron looked at them, "We don't want Harry to find out from a newspaper or a stranger. When he comes back, we'll tell him the truth. But until then, if anyone outside this room asks, it's my kid."
Slowly, Mr. Weasley nodded, "Alright. We'll protect this secret until it's time," Mr. Weasley said, looking at the rest of them, who nodded, "And I'll speak with Ginny."
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said.
He smiled, "It's Arthur, dear. I was serious the other day, you are family, call me Arthur or Dad if you want."
"All right, Arthur," Hermione said.
Mrs. Weasley stood, "And call me Molly or Mum if you prefer." She walked over and squeezed her shoulder, "Anything you need, let me know. This baby may not be blood, but it will be a Weasley."
Ron grinned, sitting on the armrest, "I'm the godfather."
Molly patted his face, "Of course you are, honey." She sighed, "I am going to move your bed into Ron's room. I think with Ginny… it would be best for now."
"Thank you, Molly," Hermione said.
Fred walked over as Molly went upstairs, and Arthur went outside to talk to Bill and Ginny. "So, what is baby Granger-Potter-Weasley anyway?"
Hermione shrugged, "I didn't ask. I can't wrap my head around the fact that there is even a baby inside me, honestly."
Fleur came over and sat in Molly's spot, "You don't feelz anything?"
"Slight flutters, otherwise, I honestly thought what I was feeling was just because of the Cruciatus curse," Hermione told her.
Fleur gasped, "Ez it okay?"
Ron took her hand and squeezed it. "They are monitoring the baby and Hermione both very closely. That's why she has to take it easy and go back next week. Between that and the malnutrition we experienced, she has to take it easy until it comes."
Preview of Chapter 16 – Gone
Suddenly, the Floo lit up and Hermione sat up slightly as the green flames danced. Then out stepped a tall man coated in soot and dirt.
Harry.
His hair was shorter as if he'd attempted to cut it himself. They locked eyes and both froze.
"Harry?" she breathed.
He dropped his rucksack from his shoulder and crossed the room. Without a word, he sank to his knees next to her, cupping her face in his hands before kissing her.
"Harry," she whispered against his lips, "We missed you."
"We?" he asked, confused.
She took his hand and laid it against her stomach. The moment his fingers touched the curve of her bump, he tensed.
"Hermione?"
"Harry, she's yours."
Time stopped as Harry stared at her belly. Stumbling backwards, he stood up as if she had contaminated him. "No…No, I can't, Hermione, we can't," he said. He ran a hand over his hair. "I'm not even eighteen! I'm not… I don't even know who I am right now! I should have died!"
"I know it's a lot," She told him, trying to push herself to sit up, "I tried writing you-"
"I can't do this," he snapped, grabbing his bag. "I'm sorry. I just can't."