I do not lay claim to any of the Harry Potter characters or it's world.

Warning: This is a very sad and depressing first chapter. Mentions of major character death. But this story is ultimately about healing and moving on. It is dramione and it will have a happy ending. Yes, the event that causes the deaths was a real terrorist attack in London. I am not trying to discount those that were truly affected by it, nor am I trying to make a political statement. It, like 9/11 was a tragedy. Still, people can't let tragedy overcome them and must move on if they are to truly survive themselves.

July 11, 2005

Rain beat steadily around her, accenting the loneliness that sat within her heart. She'd spent too many years as part of a set, just one wheel of the machine. Important and necessary, but useless without those around her.

She had to relearn her life. Never again would she see their smiling faces, hear their laughter as they tested out George's new products.

Who would so happily let her boss them around? Who would tell her to put a sock in it when she inevitably pushed too far?

Her hand drifted to her waist.

Who would she share this news with?

She'd never get to see Ron's eyes light up with the knowledge that they would be parents. Never see him teach their child how to fly. Never listen to him complain about a lack of sleep due to incessant crying.

She'd never see Harry and Ginny have more children. Never watch their children playing together. Never stand on King's Cross station with them and see them go off to Hogwarts.

King's Cross.

Why did they have to go on a lark? That day, of all days, Harry had to show Ron and Ginny what a muggle double-decker was like.

Why had she been at work? Maybe, if she had been with them she would have seen the bomber. She was the observant one. It was her job to see those things.

Tears prickled at her eyes and her hands tightened in her robes.

Lies.

I must not tell lies.

That had been on Harry's hand. That was how she had identified him.

A sob ripped through her and she swayed on her feet. Instantly she felt an arm go around her shoulders and she was pulled close to a broad chest.

She didn't know who it was.

But it didn't really matter, he wasn't Ron.

The tears flowed freely, her sobs drowned out by the sound of the rain. She almost wished she wasn't a witch. If she had been a muggle she would have known she could have done nothing.

But as a witch…

Another sob tore through her and a hand patted her back awkwardly. She let it all out. All her fears of the future and what might be coming. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow she could focus on the life growing within her and what she would do with herself.

But today she would look back at yesterday. Look back and mourn those she had lost.

When no more tears would come she pulled back, a fine linen handkerchief filled her vision and she took it gratefully. Her tears dried, she looked up to see the last person she ever expected in front of her.

"What…" she started, but found herself unable to continue.

He nodded over at the freshly-filled graves, "Potter saved my life. I came to pay my respects."

She forced out a smile, knowing that if she didn't she would cry again.

"He saved all of our lives. He had a saving people thing."

Malfoy's lips twisted into a smile that perfectly matched her own, "That he did. Now, why are you over here by yourself? I would have thought the Weasleys would be with you."

"They're over there, with Ron." She pointed behind him at another grave. "I already paid my respects."

"Bullshit. You were his wife. I'm betting you want to say goodbye once they're gone. You don't want anyone to hear you."

She looked up at him, tears once again prickling her eyes. "How do you know that?"

"Granger, I may have been an utter prat when younger, but I've known you since we were eleven. You just lost your two best friends in the world. You, like me, are an only child. You take comfort in those around you, but you'd prefer to let your walls down when no one is watching. I know. I did the same thing with my father last year."

She bit her lip and looked away. Each Weasley left a flower on Ron's grave. Mrs. Weasley, looked old and beaten, her face nothing but grief. Mr. Weasley looked no different as he wrapped his arm around his wife. The four remaining Weasley children stood close together, as if there was safety in numbers. Bill had his arms wrapped around his wife, their young daughter, Victoire, was in Charlie's arms, looking around curiously. Percy's arms were full of his little girl, Lucy, who was sound asleep. George had little Fred strapped to his chest, his arms wrapped around the baby as if he was an anchor. His wife was off to the side, her arm linked through the arm of Percy's wife. A sight that would normally surprise Hermione, as Angelina and Audrey could barely stand each other. The rain continued to fall, sliding soundlessly off of the enchanted black umbrellas hovering above each person.

Malfoy said nothing to break the silence. She found herself finding solace in his quiet presence. He couldn't understand her current emotions, but he did comprehend enough to know he couldn't truly understand.

The Weasleys eventually came back towards her. They all looked at her sadly, with Mrs. Weasley stopping for a bracing hug, before they walked over to Harry and Ginny's graves. She watched them for a moment, and then walked over to Ron's.

There were other people around, though most had left after the service. She could see some of her old classmates, including Neville and Luna nearby. Luna's arms were full of young James. He kept looking around and saying something, she couldn't make it out over the sound of the rain, but she knew what he was saying. He'd been asking for 'Mummy' and 'Daddy' constantly since they had failed to pick him up from Luna's house, where she was babysitting him.

As Godmother, Hermione knew she would have to step up and see that he was settled somewhere. She knew Molly and Arthur would help her get organized. But she wasn't going to think about that today. No, today was no time for the future. It was a day for the past.

As she approached Ron's grave the others moved away, giving her space. Part of her realized Malfoy had followed her, but she paid him no mind.

Ron would've laughed at the thought of Malfoy attending his funeral.

A week ago she likely would have as well. But not today. Today she found his presence…comforting she supposed was the right word.

That first train ride to Hogwarts she had met and formed opinions on four people. Most of those opinions had eventually been proven false.

She'd thought Harry was nice, but a bit of a pushover. Ron had done nothing to impress her. It wasn't until the two of them had run in to save her from a mountain troll that she realized that first impressions weren't always true.

Neville had come next. She'd thought him sweet, but rather hopeless. By the time she'd watched him face down Voldemort and slice a head off a snake she'd realized how wrong she was.

Malfoy was the only one that hadn't truly changed in her mind - at least not in the same way. He'd been a bully, he'd insulted her, hurt her friends, let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, watched as she was tortured in front of him, and almost let his friend kill them all with fiendfyre. He was a menace.

And, for some reason, she found that comforting.

So, she soaked in the comfort and looked down at the stone marking where Ron had been put. The words slipped out in a whisper, "Ron, I love you. I'm sorry we argued that morning, but I suppose that was us. We always argued, but then, we always made up. This time we can't and I-" she stopped, a lump in her throat.

A hand patted her shoulder comfortingly and she looked over to see Malfoy beside her, but he didn't look at her, his eyes were on the stone engraved with Ron's name. A moment later a strong hand landed on her other shoulder. There was Neville, his face turned towards hers, giving her an encouraging smile.

She swallowed the lump and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry we argued. I'm sorry I wasn't there. But, I'm sorry most of all because I never got to tell you. I wasn't sure at first. Then, when I was, I wanted to tell you at the right moment. Well, I've learned my lesson. I never got to tell you that you're going to be a father." Her hand moved down to her abdomen as the tears started to fall again. She felt someone hug her from behind; a single small, pale hand slipped over her own and she knew it had to be Luna. She could feel little James grabbing onto her robes in the back, rubbing his chubby cheek against her shoulder blade.

No one said a word and Hermione was grateful.

If she closed her eyes she could pretend they were different people. Pretend it was Ron and Harry next to her. Pretend it was Ginny holding James and hugging her, knowing it would annoy her.

When the rain weakened and grew to a stop she would have to wake from the dream. She would have to say goodbye and go back to reality.

She had things to do and plans to make.

But, until that moment happened, she would stand here and pretend.

No one could deny her that.

Author's Note: There are two more parts. I'll publish part two on Sunday and part three on the following Wednesday.