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Disclaimer - These are not my characters. I just like to play around with them.

A/N - I personally use writing as a way to escape or express my feelings. Today (18th May 2010) is the birthday of my friend who was like a brother to me but whom I had lost touch with over the past few months. Today, I wished him on facebook, where a close friend of his, seeing this, sent me a message informing me that he passed away on the 7th of March 2010, due to a severe heart attack, leaving behind his wife and child of a few months. This is dedicated to you Zee.

Just A Dream

Hermione sat at her desk, quill in hand, thinking. She sat in a magical tent, which had an interior large enough to accommodate three more people, alongside her. She was away from currently, in the depths of the Gobi, doing field work. Her task was to interact with a tribe of magical creatures that lived in this terrain and learn more about their lifestyle, their advancements and their needs. Her trip had been productive and it was also coming to end.

As always, she would be sad to leave the creatures that she had befriended, but happy to get back home. And a thought that excited enough to drown her sadness of leaving behind her new friends was that this time she would be going back to a family of her own. She had been away for four months, and staying away from home so long was killing her. The fact that she had no way to contact them until now, when she finally received her order of messenger parchments, made it even worse. She was grateful they had arrived though, because it would still take her a week to get back home, and it was Sirius' birthday tomorrow.

It was two weeks after the day she turned eighteen.
All dressed in white, goin' to the church that night.
She had his box of letters in the passenger seat.
Six pins in her shoe: something borrowed, something blue

Hermione sat at the back of the limousine that was driving her to the church. With not a moment to think all day, she welcomed the silent solitude to take a deep breath and let her thoughts run free, which resulted in a grin breaking out on her face.

After months of running around each other like love-sick teenagers who were afraid of facing the truth, Christmas, firewhiskey and some mistletoe had brought Hermione and Sirius to accept that they were madly in love with each other. They had run away, lived in the States for a while, when the reactions of their friends and family had proved worse than they hoped, and those whom they trusted most shunned them. Their life had taken a turn into the book of clichés when love had conquered all, and in time, their relationship accepted, they returned to their home.

Hermione's grin widened as she remembered their engagement. She had found his ring, and subsequently screamed in delight, which was obviously the wrong thing to do. Within less than a minute people were rushing into her room, wands at the ready. With not a moment to spare, she'd literally just shoved the ring down her top and stood dumbfounded as man, woman, girl, boy and Sirius in his animagus form crashed through the door. The only thing Hermione could think of at the time was, "There was a huge cockroach on my leg."

As everyone dispersed, some laughing, while others appalled, she put the ring back in the box and returned it to where it belonged, in Sirius' jacket pocket. Much to her chagrin, even two weeks later, he hadn't popped the question. She'd seen this in a movie, and she wasn't going to make the same mistake by running up to him and blurting out what was taking him so long. No, she would wait.

Okay, done waiting.

It had been another week and a half and anxiety was eating away at her core. When he'd come home from work, she'd dragged him into their room and screamed every obscenity she could come up with. He was a jerk for making her wait. A completely dumfounded and confused jerk. She'd given him no warning and just screamed, "If you don't want to marry me, don't leave a ring lying around!" At this he'd smiled, something she hadn't noticed through her ranting until he'd caught hold of her arms and told her to shut up. What came next… well that's between them and their sheets.

Without even realizing the time pass, Hermione noticed the limousine pull up in front of the large antique cathedral, where inside more than a hundred people waited her arrival, one of which was the love of her life. She stepped out of the car and met Harry at the door, who was gleaming as he hugged her.

"You look beautiful 'Mione."

She blushed, looking back at the door and linking her arm with his. When she had been planning her wedding, she had asked Harry to give her away, after days of locking herself in her room and crying. The memory of her father, who she had lost during the war, and the guilt of being the reason he and her mother died, had hit her hard now, at a time when she needed them.

Harry smiled at her again, sensing her longing for her parents and turned to push the door open.

Dear Sirius,
For once, I'm lost for words. I have so much to tell you, but don't know how. These last few months have been agony. I wanted so much to talk to you, but I had no way. I miss our home. And I miss our movie nights. But most of all I miss you and how you would rest your head on my lap and watch TV while I read. I miss little things like those that we did together.
Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I have a surprise for you but I won't tell you yet. Think of it as a belated gift. I'll be home soon. We'll be together soon. Wait for me.
For my love, with love- Hermione.

Harry folded up the letter, tears in his eyes. He didn't know how he would face her when she got home.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione opened the door and stepped into Grimmauld Place, taking a deep breath and sighing in content. She was finally home. The sound of heavy footsteps made her grin as she turned to look at Sirius, but it was Harry that came out of the kitchen to greet her. He had no idea when she would be coming home, but as he looked at her, his eyes bled tears, the blood of a broken heart. She embraced him in a long hug and whispered 'surprise' in his ear.

Harry was surprised. He was extremely shocked. He moved out of her hold so that he could look at her again. It wasn't extremely evident but Harry could see it clearly. Hermione was pregnant.

"Yeah. Five months along can you believe it? It's a boy, you know," she smiled warmly at him, the love of a mother shining in her chocolate eyes.

"Hermione… I… need to talk to you about something."

"Can you give me a little while? I want to freshen up and see Sirius first."

"That's sort of what I needed to talk to you about." Harry looked at her face with a grief-struck expression that confused her.

He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, where Ron, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Remus and Tonks were seated in silence. When they looked up as they heard the two approach, they were just as surprised, and just as heartbroken, as Harry had been, but did worse to hide it, as Mrs. Weasley and Ginny both started to sob quietly, Tonks only just gasping and turning to hide her face in Remus' embrace.

Baby why'd you leave me, why'd you have to go.
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know.
I can't even breathe.

"We're sorry, 'Mione. We did all we could, but the bullets had injured him severely and his body, it wouldn't accept the heart that had been transplanted in."

Hermione sat at the table, fingers clasped together, stoically. Her back was set straight but her quivering lip and her tear-filled eyes gave away her true emotions. She stood up and left the kitchen, running up to her room and slamming the door behind her. She locked it, leaning back against it a she slid down to the floor, finally allowing grief to overcome her and letting her sobs escape. She hugged her belly, holding on to the closest thing she had left of him, and she cried. For a love she had lost, a life she had been promised but never would have, and the life of her child, who would grow up without a father.

It's like I'm looking from a distance, standing in the background.
Everybody's saying, 'He's not coming home now.'
This can't be happening to me. This is just a dream.

The preacher man said, 'Let us bow our heads and pray.
Lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt.'
Then the congregation all stood up and sang,
The saddest song that she'd ever heard.

Hermione woke up from her sleep, eyes bloodshot, throat stinging with dryness. For a minute, she'd thought she had a nightmare, but the reality shot her like a bullet when she saw Harry and Ginny by her side, dressed in black. She looked at the time, 9:30pm, and faced them with confusion.

"We waited to hold the service until you return," Ginny explained, then turned to Harry, "Why don't you wait outside? I'll get her dressed."

Harry stood up and walked out of the room, and Ginny moved closer to Hermione, pulling her into a hug. Another wave of sorrow crashed over her and she cried into her friend's shoulder.

"Hermione, you have to get dressed. Come on." She stood up and picked out a black dressrobe from Hermione's wardrobe, leading her to the washroom and helping her change. She helped Hermione fix her hair and clean her face. It was a slow process, every step moving at a mournful pace, until both women were finally dressed, apparated and outside the church doors.

Harry came up beside Hermione and she linked his arm with his. She turned to look at him and the familiar memory made her lurch inside. He kissed her forehead and pushed the doors open, leading her into the grand cathedral.

Hermione walked slowly by his side, forward until they reached the end of the aisle. Harry left her by the coffin, giving her some time alone. She looked down with wet, hazy eyes at the perfectly preserved body of her late husband, his stormy eyes closed, a tempest subdued. She placed a hand on his porcelain forehead, and another on her belly, a great sense of loss threatening to overwhelm her once more. She continued to stare at his pale, lifeless face and her body shook as she tried to stifle a sob. Remus appeared beside her, leading her to a bench, and as everyone seated, the congregation sang a song, a soft one, with a quiet, somber melody, which vibrated through her ears and shattered her delicate heart to little crystals, silently, its intensity unbeknownst to others, her head resting on Remus' shoulder, her voice barely a whisper.

"Happy Birthday, my love."

Live your life devoid of sorrow, for who knows; there may be no tomorrow.