A/N: All righty then! First OC fic I've ever done (er…posted; I've written several for my own amusement). I've tried very hard to keep everyone in character and integrate Meg smoothly, but if it doesn't work, please tell me. As long as you can do it without flames, of course. But constructive criticism is always appreciated. : ) I've actually managed to avoid flames on most of my pieces, so I'm assuming that means I'm doing something right. Or nobody ever reads my stuff. Huh. Anyway. On to the fic! Hope you enjoy it. Please review, yada yada yada.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I only own Meg, standard legal crap…you know the drill. Let's all just accept it and move on.

Tears trickled down her face as she gazed beseechingly up at him. He wanted to wince when he noticed the lines around her beautiful brown eyes. A year ago, she'd been a normal teenage girl. Now there was pain etched into every inch of her familiar face, and it was his fault.

"I can't do this anymore," she whispered, clinging tightly to his jacket. It was her final attempt to convince herself to stay, to resist the sensible part of her and give into her heart.

Harry shook his head desperately, holding her close. "I know. I…just a little while longer. Don't leave me yet, Meg," he begged. Two years ago, he would've had to convince himself just to hold her. But after months of learning, through her persistence and declarations that there was no way in hell that she was leaving, that it was easier to just let himself love her, he was finding it so hard to let go.

She bit her trembling lip hard. It was taking every ounce of strength she had to keep back the sobs that threatened to break loose. "I just can't anymore, baby. I know I told you I'd never leave, and…six months ago, it was possible. But now–love, the other night I was up until four, waiting on you to get home. The whole time all I could see was your corpse laying in an alley somewhere, the Dark Mark over you…" She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I can't live like this anymore. Every time you walk out the door, I worry. I worry about the chance that Death Eaters are going to come for us before you get back. I worry about you getting jumped somewhere. I worry about whether I'll ever see you again…"

She turned her face away from him, staring out to the lake. It was cold and pitch-black, mirroring the bleak misery that threatened the very life inside her body. For a minute, she just watched the waves lap upon the frozen shore, her eyes unfocused. After a moment, she looked back at him, her eyes shining with the tears she would not allow to fall.

"I've got a baby on the way, Harry. Your baby. I can't live in fear of my life, and hers, for any longer. And I love you–Oh, God, baby, you can't imagine how much I love you–but I just can't put her in danger. We can't be by your side anymore. Not until Voldemort's gone and you can look me straight in the eyes and tell me that no one wants to kill you. That no one wants to kill me, or our little girl. It's your turn to save the world, but I can't help you," she said quietly.

"I don't want to save the damn world!"

She didn't flinch. Her understanding eyes just blinked slowly up into his. He hovered at the edge of tears, but he shoved them aside. He took her face in his hands, staring straight into her eyes. "You're more important to me than the world. The world can wait. I'm more concerned about you…and our baby."

"Then let us go," she pleaded softly. "The world won't wait. They need you, they'll demand you, they'll come after you until you help them. We'll be okay." She gently pulled his hands from her face.

"Meg–"

She pressed her hands against his chest. "I'm so sorry, love. I'll…she'll know who her father is. I'll make sure of that. And I'll love her enough for both of us, until it's safe for you to know her." She kissed him gently, for the last time. "I love you."

Slowly, her heart screaming and sobbing in anguish, she turned her back on the one man she'd ever loved.

She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked down the steep hill. From the warmth in her belly, a tiny hand touched her insides timidly. She laid one hand on her swollen belly, smiling through her tears at the child within. "I know. I'll miss him, too," she whispered to her unborn daughter.

"Meg!" a girl's voice called across the grounds. Meg looked up. Her eyes searched the stark landscape for the source of the sound. A few yards away, a bushy-haired figure was waving its arm and trotting toward her.

"Hermione!" Meg smiled and wiped the tears away hurriedly as the girl drew closer.

Hermione reached Meg, panting slightly. Her breath formed miniature white clouds before her mouth. "Jeez. I understand why they shortened the school year, but exams in this weather?" She shivered. "I can't imagine taking Care of Magical Creatures in April."

"Yeah." Meg sniffed a little.

Hermione's features instantly pulled into a stern frown. "You shouldn't be out! You'll end up getting sick, and that's dangerous in your condition! Witch or not, you're still just as susceptible to illness as any pregnant woman!" she scolded, quickly unfastening her heavy woollen cloak and handing it to Meg.

Meg nodded. "Thanks, 'Mione. But…I couldn't leave until I…y'know. I had to see him. Just once. Just in case he doesn't. Y'know. Make it," she said quietly, wrapping the cloak around her body and gesturing limply at Harry. Hermione glanced up the hill. Harry was still standing on the frozen moor, staring out at the lake.

"Oh…" Hermione sighed. "He'll be all right, eventually. I think he knew this was coming, anyway. He couldn't expect you to sit at home all the time, waiting with his baby, never knowing if he was going to come home. He knew, on some level. Even if he won't admit it," she said softly, her brown eyes trained on her best friend. Meg took a deep, trembling breath, again fighting back tears. Hermione touched her shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Meg. I know how hard this is for you."

"We'd better go. We'll miss the train if we wait too much longer," Meg said, a little too loud.

Hermione hesitated, as if she had more she wanted said. Then she smiled sympathetically and nodded. "Yeah. Ron's going to be wondering where I am, anyway." The girls continued toward Hogsmeade. The desolate figure of the Boy Who Lived stood on the moor for a long time after, that alone except for the winds shrieking amongst the dark, lonesome trees.

A/N: I had to squeeze a bit to get the time period to fit with Meg leaving Hogwarts, so I'm sorry if that came out a bit weird. I just couldn't really see this confrontation happening on a sunny afternoon in June. A harsh day in April seems more fitting, hmm?