It was a dark and stormy night. Hermione knew that was a cliche, but really, with the wind blowing the sleet horizontally against the window, she could see the value in the time-worn sentence.

"It must have been a terribly bad storm that night."

Once she said it, she regretted it, for the storm must have heard her and redoubled its efforts. Her quilt was pulled up to her chin, the better to ward off the chill in the room, but still the air on her nose stung. She tried to lull herself back to sleep, but something was nagging at the edge of her consciousness, something unpleasant, something that meant getting out of bed on such a cold night, locating her slippers somewhere under the ballycumber and her dressing gown from the bedpost.

"Bother."

A warm arm crept under the covers towards her, and wrapped itself around her somewhat-enlarged middle.

"Are you all right?"

"I have to get up, Severus. The impending small person is dancing on my bladder again."

"Then go, and stop disturbing me. It's cold."

"I know. I just…" She stopped there, knowing there was no point wishing they could heat the house. It was supposed to still be deserted. Heating it with fires would alert the Muggle neighbours that there was someone at home, and heating it with Magic would bring the whole of the New World Death Eater Government back into their lives.

Hermione took a deep breath, rummaged (with difficulty - bending was getting awkward) in the pile of books enough to locate the slippers, and decided that urgency had trumped dressing-gown donning. She shuffled hurriedly towards the bathroom, and made it before there were any messy accidents.

The relief was immediate, and Hermione's deep exhalation was heartfelt. Five minutes later, she was sliding off the slippers and crawling in next to her husband., who responded by once more wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.

"Better?"

"Much." She lay quietly for a moment, then took his hand and placed it firmly on the low rounding of her belly. "She's awake, though."

Severus held his hand steady, still amazed by the sensation of being kicked by his own child. "She's like you. Probably asking questions and bouncing like a loon."

Hermione smiled at this, surprised at how quickly she also started crying. She seemed to do that a lot these days. "Or cursing and taking points from Gryffindor."

"Most likely." He saw the tears, and wrapped both his arms back around her, holding her tight. "You're not telling me something, though."

"And you can tell immediately. Bloody Slytherin." She grinned, and he kissed her nose gently. "But yes, I … I'm sorry, Severus."

"Sorry?"

"I can't do it." At this, Hermione started sobbing, her tears soaking his pyjamas.

He waited, knowing that she would continue when she was ready. Finally, she breathed enough to break the pattern.

"Severus, I can't stay in Britain like this. I can't cope with a winter so cold I can't feel my nose, and not being able to get warm at all. It can't be good for the baby, and I don't think it's good for me. " Severus took a breath, ready to speak, but she gently laid a finger on his lips to stop him. "I know what you're going to say, that we have a fight here that can't be abandoned, and people that depend on us, but they're just going to have to. Just for a while." She kissed his eyelids, then continued. "Mum and Dad have been asking me to come for a visit for ages. I think .. " And at this she started crying again.

Severus took his opportunity. "You're wrong, you know."

"I'm not. I can't…"

"Not that. You're totally right. You can't stay here - it'll kill you or leave you unable to help the baby, and that would be just as bad. No, you're wrong in what you thought I was going to say."

"Which was?"

"We can fight, but we can only fight if you're able to fight. You have to help yourself first. You have to go."

She clutched him tighter, unable to stop crying as he stroked her back and hair. "Tomorrow, my love, we'll go to Australia. Get you warm. You'll be safe with your parents, and you can have the baby there, and come back when you're ready." The sobs grew louder, and he didn't need Occlumency to work out why. "But you know I have to come back here."

"What if …" She couldn't finish it. To do so was to risk the thing happening. "What…"

He stopped her mouth with a kiss, then drew back and looked straight into her eyes.

"Then you tell our daughter how we fought, how we tried to stop the Dark Lord, and how the only thing that kept me going was thinking of how brave her mother was. And how much I loved her in the short, short year that we had together. But that won't happen. You'll bring our daughter into the world. Nothing less than death will stop me being there when it happens, and we'll hold her together, just like I'm holding you. And then I'll come back and keep fighting, and you'll recover, and then you'll come back, and we'll win. And we'll win for her, if for nothing else."

And for the rest of the night, he held her in his arms, their daughter between them and their hearts.