A/N: Hello, everyone. I know what you're thinking. What the hell? Didn't this have 19 chapters? I know, really. I don't know what happened. Apparently, last night, it magically disappeared from the site and I've been spending the better part of today trying to figure out what the hell happened between panic attacks and a few tears.

I still don't know what happened only that all of my favourites, reviews, and alerts are GONE! Has this happened to any of you before? All I know is that if I hadn't saved this elsewhere we would have no story. As it is, you guys still get to read it – only I get to suffer from the monstrosity of having no reviews. We were reaching 400!

I sincerely apologize to anyone who has me on Author alert because this is going to be a very rough 19 emails. SORRY IN ADVANCE.

Yours sincerely,

M.

PS: One of you suggested I get a twitter and I've wanted to stalk Tom Felton for a while. So I got one. Say hello and give me hugs at reply murtagh799

DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN

WARNINGS: THIS STORY CONTAINS CHILD ABUSE, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, COARSE LANGUAGE, AND EXTREME SITUATIONS THAT MAY NOT BE COMFORTABLE FOR ALL READERS. RATED M. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Chapter One: Hello Sunshine

Hermione Weasley nee Granger was late.

It was a very, very odd thing to have happened to her, because Hermione was never late. No, definitely not. If there was one thing that everyone knew about Hermione, it was that she was dependable, reliable, and always on time. So when the foreign Chinese minister was kept waiting a whole ten minutes for her presence, Hermione was mortified.

She had sworn to herself that she would not let motherhood get in the way of her work life. Yet here she was, late to the most important meeting of her career.

"I'm so very sorry to have kept you waiting," she panted, gesturing that the Minister and his delegates follow her into her office. It was sheer luck that Harry Potter had been present in the office that morning and had caught the attention and interests of the Chinese ministry representatives. She nodded her thanks to him with a grateful expression and he winked back at her. "If you would like to have a seat?"

These days, everything was a strain. It was just sheer luck that she was managing thus far anyhow. Her job in the Department of Foreign Affairs at the Ministry of Magic had become unbearably hectic in the past year. Of course, that was only because she had gotten the big promotion she had been working for her entire life just last year.

She was now the Under-Secretary Head of the Department of Foreign Affairs. And it was a hell of a lot of work.

That meant late nights at the office, less time to socialize, fewer weekends (or any days) off, and just... not enough time to breathe, if she were to be completely honest. Not that she'd complain to anyone, of course. Hermione didn't like to complain. But she was very slowly unravelling at the seams.

And having an eight year old son in the mix wasn't helping the fraying process.

She loved her son, Hugo, yes. He was her darling angel. But there was no time to spend with the beautiful child if she was to make them a living. But he didn't understand the concept of "work". Hugo had his father's temperament, so to speak. Play and bother mummy now, work later.

It was partially her fault for spoiling him. After Ron had died five years ago, when Hugo had only been three, she had clung to the little boy as if he were the only reminder of her beloved late husband.

Ron had died in an unfortunate, tragic accident. He had been an auror in his day – and that had been quite appealing to her in the past – but when news of the accident reached her by owl, she had been mortified. She couldn't believe what had happened, what she was reading printed in desolate blank ink. Ron had been killed, quite by accident they said, by a bloody Hippogriff stampede!

She had thought it was a cruel bloody joke being played on her. It couldn't possible have been a real letter. Who the hell gets killed by a Hippogriff stampede anyways? Her mind had flashed back to her Care of Magical Creatures textbook, and Madame Grubbyplank's voice – each year, 8 poor individuals are caught in the midst of Hippogriff stampedes – But she had shaken the thought away. Her Ron was too smart to be the victim of something so...bizarre.

So it obviously had to be a joke.

The thing was, it hadn't been a joke at all. When she had reached the Auror department at the Ministry of Magic, little Hugo slung across her hip, she had found a sobbing Ginny, a very depressed Harry and several members of the Weasley family all there. Waiting. And the thought had crossed her mind that it possibly wasn't a cruel prank. But how could it be? How could it possibly be?

But it had been, she had been told. She had stood there for hours in shock. It hadn't occurred to her that Ron could just up and leave like that. Death was supposed to be a thing of the future. They were supposed to grow old together. They were meant to see Hugo off at King's Cross, his first day at Hogwarts...

And now they would have none of that.

Instead, she was now given the responsibilities of the entire household. What had been a part time job at the department of foreign affairs now became her only source of income. Her organizations for the underprivileged (S.P.E.W, Victims of War, The Organization for the Equality of Muggleborns, etc.) had no funding, and no manpower to run them – since their leader was now a single mother with no supports and no savings.

She had had to sell her house and downsize to a single bedroom apartment in muggle London and take on a full time gruelling desk job. It had been difficult. For the first few months, she had had difficulties getting the groceries on the table. Molly Weasley had been more than generous by watching over Hugo during the day while she went to work. Harry had offered her a place in his home, saying that she was more than welcome. She had declined. She did not want anyone's charity. She was more than capable.

And she had been.

By the end of the first year, they had managed to move into a more suitable neighbourhood. Hermione had managed to climb the ladder of success in such a short time. How could she not? She was still the smartest witch of her age. Her intelligence and resourcefulness had not gone unnoticed by management, and she had been continually promoted over the years.

With success came the money, and with the money came proper housing, food, clothing, a nanny for supervision, and everything Hugo could ever want. Everything except his mother's time and proper affections. Who could possible be affectionate after a long 16 hour day in which people only wanted to irritate the hell out of you? It was the unfortunate side effect of having a career and only one paycheque.

Hermione had no idea just how much she'd have to pay for having a career.

"Manny?" called Hugo down the stairs.

Manny the Nanny rolled her eyes and sighed. This job was not for her. Listening and taking care of little snotty brats was so not her thing. No. When she had graduated from Beauxbatons she had wanted to go into the fashion consultant business. How was she to know she'd be broke as fuck and have to resort to this nanny business? What kind of a business was this anyways?

She was lucky that her friend had hooked her up with this job. She would've been on the street and starving otherwise, she supposed. But really! No one with any dignity could tell people that they were a nanny. Ugh.

"Yeah, I'm here," she called from her place on the couch, not bothering to get up. If the little brat wanted to talk to her, he'd just have to come downstairs and find her. "What do you want?" She stopped herself from swearing. It wouldn't do to get fired, not for something so stupid like that, anyways.

"I'm hungry," the little boy said.

She sighed again, clearly irritated. "I just made you a sandwich!" The boy cringed and she automatically lowered her voice. What if he told his mother? That would not go down well. "Did you eat the sandwich?" He nodded his head tentatively.

"I'm...hungry, again."

Groaning, she got up and walked towards the kitchen, noticing that the little snot face followed her there. He was such an odd little boy. He played by himself nearly all day, bothered her for inconsequential things, and was obsessed with his mother. You'd think he'd be begging her to go see his friends or eat chocolate – whatever the hell little boys do. But it seemed like he didn't have any friends, or even an appetite for junk food.

Weird little bugger.

As she made him another sandwich, she watched him. He looked afraid. Of her, maybe? Good. Maybe he'd stop bothering her all the time, then, and go do whatever it was weird kids did.

"Can I play outside, later?" he asked.

It took her a moment that the question was registered at her. She shrugged. Who the hell cared if he went and played outside? "Yeah, sure, but make sure you get back in here before your mother gets home. I don't want to get in trouble, got it?"

He nodded, clearly happy that she hadn't yelled at him. That had been easy. Maybe he could just go away for long enough, so that she could finally sit in some relative silence and read her new copy of Witch Weekly.

After she had made him a sloppy sandwich he grinned at her, and she almost felt bad for calling him a little snot faced bugger. Or some variation. He wasn't so bad. Her older brother had been worse when they'd been growing up, she now remembered. So what if he was a freak?

As long as the freak wasn't in her hair, she supposed...

With a happy little "Thanks!" he ran off to his room to eat, where he consumed all of his meals when she was around. Was he shy or something? Shrugging to herself, internally, she grabbed a box of droobles best blowing gum and went back to her own thoughts.

She didn't notice the figure in the street staring at the bicycle strewn across the yard from where Hugo had left it yesterday. He was donned in a black cloak, a cowl covering his face. She would have been afraid, and would have called her boss, Mrs. Weasley.

But as it was, she was absorbed in her magazine, and by the time she looked up, the man was gone.

It was Sunday afternoon and Hermione had to go to work to put in a few extra hours so that she'd be prepared tomorrow when the French delegates appeared for their meeting. Sure, Sunday was supposed to be a day spent with the family...but this was important. Important enough that Manny understood, and just so she knew that Hermione appreciated all her help, she was paying her double.

"I really appreciate this, Manny," Hermione said, slightly panting as she attempted to find her second shoe. Where had it gone?

"That's alright, Mrs. Weasley. Anytime." The teen smiled charmingly at her. "Is that it right there?" Hermione turned and looked over to where Manny was pointing. Indeed, that was her shoe in the corner. She smiled gratefully at the nanny and hurried.

Was that everything? She was sure she was missing something... what was it?

"Mum?" came a timid little voice outside her bedroom door.

Right, she'd forgotten that. She braced herself for what she knew was going to be a guilt fest. But what other option did she have? They had bills to pay, and she had to start saving for what was going to be a very taxing seven years at Hogwarts for her child. It didn't come cheap... And she wasn't the type of person to let her child feel lack of anything, not if she had something to say about it. He would not be ridiculed for something so silly just because she was a single mother. It was a question of pride.

She put on her happy face. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"You said you'd play with me today. Remember? You said we'd go to the park today. It's Sunday..." Her little prodigy stood before her, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes were forlorn and it nearly broke her heart.

"I'm sorry, baby-"

"You promised."

"I know... I'm sorry, Hugo." She attempted to go towards him, perhaps comfort him or at the very least try to make it up to him, but he ran away from her before she could catch him in her arms. "Hugo!" she shouted after him, but to no avail. He ran from the room, down the stairs and out the door. She heard the door slam shut behind him. Walking towards the window she saw him sit on the front porch, taking out his set of gobstones to play with by himself.

"He's not normally like this, really..." she heard Manny say from behind her. "He must be really upset to have acted like that."

Hermione regarded the young woman before her. She had had her doubts about the girl, definitely when she'd had to relinquish her responsibilities of Hugo to her once she'd had to put in much more time into her career. But after years of entrusting Hugo's care with the girl, she was confident that she'd made the right decision. Manny was sweet, caring, and genuinely nice. She seemed to really care about Hugo, and that was exactly what Hermione was looking for.

"You'll spend some time with him today, won't you?" Hermione asked, worried. "I really hate to see him like this..."

Manny just smiled, sweetly. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley."

Before she could contemplate it further, she noticed the time on a clock hanging above her bed. Was it really that late? She audibly gasped and started muttering to herself, grabbing her bag and rushing out the door without so much as a wave and goodbye to Manny.

"Make sure he eats!" Hermione shouted as she made her way out the front door, outside the apparation wards, so she could finally make her way to work. When she passed Hugo, he didn't look up at her because he was still rather angry, she assumed. She turned to give Manny a look, and Manny nodded understanding what was expected of her. "Bye, sweetheart. I'll see you at dinner, alright?"

No response. She watched as Manny came over to her son and pulled him into her lap. "What say you and I read a book, hm?"

Hermione smiled as she apparated to work.

When it was apparent that she really was gone and wasn't going to be back for a while, the sweet smile on Manny's face literally melted as she moved the eight year old kid off of her, stood up, and brushed her pants off as if he had been filthy.

"You're not really going to read to me, are you," Hugo stated. It wasn't a question. It wasn't even really necessary to ask if Manny would actually do anything but the bare minimum. Not that her boss needed to know such things, of course.

Manny shrugged. "You know the drill, kid." And without a backwards glance, she walked back into the house to sit on her favourite chair and perhaps read through her Witch Weekly once more. The slam of the door resounded behind her and Hugo shuddered. He hadn't really expected company today. He had already known his mother would break her promise.

His mother always broke promises. At least the ones she made with him.

Hugo sighed and tucked his gobstones back into his pocket. He didn't feel like playing anymore. He didn't want to do anything anymore. No one really wanted him, not even his own mother. He had heard the other kids down the street say so last week, and now he was beginning to believe it himself. Manny probably thought so too. Manny probably knew. Perhaps he could ask her later when he reminded her to make him something to eat.

Come to think of it, he wasn't really hungry at all. Maybe he wouldn't eat today and see if his mother noticed at all. Because he knew she wouldn't make it to dinner. She never did these days.

He kicked at a plant that sat on the porch. Who cared if he broke it? It was dead and withered anyways. No one watered it. He wasn't allowed to touch things, or Manny would yell at him. Poor plant. It was probably better if he destroyed it. At least the sun wouldn't bother it anymore. He glared at the plant. Why did it have to die and leave him too?

"Hello," came a voice.

He startled and looked around to find a man staring at him, smiling broadly. He stared suspiciously at the man. What was he doing there? And why was he talking to him? Grownups didn't talk to him, they thought he was annoying. Manny said it was because he was weird and pesky and...something else, he couldn't remember.

"Would you like to come play with us?"

Hugo narrowed his eyes. Play with him? Why would he do that? He didn't even know the guy. So he shook his head slightly. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers..." Yes, that is what his mother had told him to say, right? Something like that.

The stranger laughed and Hugo was startled. "I'm not a stranger. You see that house, right there?" He pointed to a house down the street that had been empty for years. "My son and I just moved there last week, and he's getting quite lonely."

Hugo looked around once again, searching for this mystery son but found no one around. "I don't see no son, Mister."

The stranger laughed again, but Hugo didn't understand what was so funny. "Charlie!" the man called out. "Charlie, come on! I've found us a new friend to play with!" A timid little boy walked down the steps of the house the man had pointed out and walked towards them shyly. "You see here, this is my son, Charlie. He's awfully shy. Say hello, Charlie."

But Charlie didn't say anything. He just stared blankly back.

"Hello. I'm Hugo."

A/N: I'm in pain. Really.