Disclaimer: I would have saved Fred if I had written HP

Summary: Sequel to Filling in the Gap, Hermione and Fred are expecting their first child but things go horribly wrong and their lives and sanity are threatened. Can their relationship survive the barriers ahead?

A/N: I'm baaackkk! The continuance of the adventures of Hermione and Fred from Filling in the Gap starts here! I hope everyone enjoys it!

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B.R.O.K.E.N

Chapter One

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He watched her.

She was unaware that someone was watching her, like some sort of stalker. There's that harsh word again, stalker. But she was his wife, and he, her husband… he could hardly be considered a stalker. Especially, considering that he was merely watching her from the staircase in their home. She was slowly moving around a box of books, with a contemplated look on her face. She kept taking a step towards the box before taking a step backwards again. She kept hesitating and hesitating before...

"You better not be thinking about picking up that box," he said.

Startled, his wife jumped at the sound of his voice. "Fred! You gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed, putting her hand over her chest.

"Well you would have given me a heart attack if you had picked up that box," Fred grinned. "You know you're not meant to lift heavy things, 'Mione"

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave her husband a glare. "Excuse me for wanting to help."

Fred laughed at this, "you can help by sitting your pregnant self on the couch and watching."

"That's something I don't want to do, Fred."

"Well fortunately for you, I have something for you to do instead."

"And pray tell, what is that?"

Fred raised an eyebrow at her, "you know what you have to do first."

Hermione sighed as she rubbed her slightly protruding stomach. At 18 weeks pregnant, there was very little Fred would allow her to do, and she dreaded the months to come. Fred walked over to her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I can't have you hurting yourself now, can I? Not while our little guy is still in here." He splayed his hand over her bump for emphasis. Hermione pushed his hand away and moved to the couch. She let out a frustrated sigh as she crossed her arms and collapsed onto the couch. "What's wrong now?"

"I'm so bloody bored!" she said exasperatedly.

Fred still grinned; she looked so cute even when she was sulking. "Oh love, don't be like that. I'm sure we can find you something to do whilst sitting still for a little while."

Hermione propped her elbow up on the armrest and rested her head against her fist. "So are you going to tell me what it is that I can do from here, aside from 'watching'?" She hissed out the last word for her emphasis.

"Not with that tone, young lady."

"Fine, I'll read then," Hermione huffed, and changed her focus to the boxes at her feet. "Fred... where are my books?"

"Still in all seventeen boxes you put them in."

"And where are they?" Fred shrugged his response, for they were in the middle of dozens of boxes filled with everything from kitchenware to linen. "Okay... where is my What to Expect When You're Expecting book?" she looked at the boxes with longing. "Can you find it for me? Or even Baby Steps: The Guide to Magical Babies? Or any of my pregnancy books?"

"That's going to take a while, love..." Hermione gave him a hard glare. "Oh Hermione, you've read every muggle and wizard book there is on pregnancy... twice. Can't you just take a break from it all for one day? Come on it's our 'Moving In' Day!"

Hermione snorted, "Yeah, but you won't let me move. You said you wanted me to do something, go get my books!"

Fred sighed, "How about a compromise?" He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pamphlet before handing it over. Hermione took it and discovered it was covered in several squares detailing every single colour ever imagined. "You can start picking out what colours you want to paint the baby's room."

"Just the baby's room?" Hermione queried.

Fred laughed. "Fine, every room, as long as you keep your gorgeous self on that couch for a few hours," he grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Hermione still wasn't satisfied, but she gave in to her husband's task. Whilst she was deciding whether to paint the baby's room blue or a more gender neutral colour, she thought about the baby lying within her womb. Constantly moving, and ever growing, her baby was the foundation to being happy for the rest of her life.

But on the other hand, there was the negative side of the pregnancy. The morning sickness hadn't quite worn off, but she felt that she had made incredible progress by only being able to throw up once a day. But to replace the consistent nausea, there was the swelling and aches. She was lucky if she could go a day without taking a nap, as her energy plummeted quite quickly throughout the day. Her back and swelling feet caused her daily annoyance, and she spent so much of her day sitting around that she felt very counterproductive. She felt lumpy and sore. In Hermione's opinion, the less said about the cramps the better.

She rubbed her stomach thoughtfully, and watched her husband carry boxes up and down the stairs of their new home. Fred had been so good to her and the baby. Despite all his tomfoolery, Fred knew when to be mature when it mattered. Hermione had lost count of her hormones taking control and she becoming a complete and utter mess over the simplest of things; and Fred, being the doting father-to-be, was able to calm her down and keep her grounded. He had often offered to massage her aching feet and back on a daily basis, and had proven to be quite the chef of the house.

It was during this thought that Hermione felt a flutter of movement run across her stomach.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her protruding belly.

A loud thud echoed through the room as Fred dropped a box at the sound of her gasp. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" Fred asked, not making any attempt to hide the fright he got from her outburst.

Hermione giggled as the flutter repeated itself. "Nothing, love," her hands ran over the material that covered her stomach. "He's just awake now, that's all."

Fred didn't spare a moment's hesitation as in a few strides he was next to his wife and pressing his hand against her baby bump. After a moment of waiting, he let out a frustrated sigh, "I still can't feel it" he said with a tinge of pain in his voice.

Hermione looked at the redhead with sympathy. "It's still early, love. He only started moving around the other week."

"I know," sighed Fred. He had been waiting patiently for the first movements of his son, but so far luck had not been on his side.

Hermione kissed him lightly on the lips, "The healer did say it would be a little longer until you or anybody else would feel him. And he's only doing it sporadically."

"Still," the Weasley twin moaned. He poked the slight bump of his wife hoping to jolt the tiny life hiding inside of her into moving for him.

"Oh love, don't pout," said Hermione. She held out the page of paint samples, "here's something to take your mind off it."

"Oh ha, ha" Fred rolled his eyes. "Aren't you funny?"

"Well, one of us had to be in this relationship," she giggled. Fred stuck out his tongue at her, which Hermione responded with an intense kiss on his lips. After they broke apart, Fred stroked her hair and gave her a gentle smile. Hermione knew that smile, he was concerned. "So, if I'm picking out paint... what are you going to do now?"

Fred took a look around at all the boxes, "Probably bring more of these upstairs. I'm pretty sure that you'll want some sheets or something to sleep in tonight."

"If I can sleep," Hermione whispered quietly, but her husband still heard it.

The redhead frowned at her words. "Are you still having those dreams?"

Hermione shook her head, but she knew she was lying. The restless nights had been another unfortunate side effect of her pregnancy. The dreams had started a few weeks ago, and she had lost count of how many times she had woken up in a cold sweat, panting as if she had run a marathon. Some nights were worse than others, and it was those nights that Fred often had to wake her up to snap her out of the dream she was in.

The dreams had started innocent enough; they had been filled with warmth and love. She had imagined Fred playing with his son; she had dreamed that they would be the happy family that they should've been all these years. But then they always began to turn sour as the dreams progressed. One moment Fred would be playing with their young son, next he was drenched in their son's blood, claiming that she would be next. Some nights, her son would begin growing a third eye and fangs, before attacking her. But the dreams were starting become more sporadic, so she decided not to keep Fred in the loop about them anymore, as she can see that his worry was growing with every dream she had.

"Hermione, I know you're lying," commented Fred. "You were moaning in your sleep last night."

Hermione blushed as her dream from last night flooded back to her. "You shouldn't misconstrue what you hear late at night."

"What do you mean?"

"Fred," she gave him a sly smirk. "Think about it. I was moaning."

"What are you..." His ears turned crimson, as the answer dawned on him. "Oh..." he gave her a wicked smile, "I hadn't realised you were getting those kinds of dreams either."

Hermione laughed, and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer towards her. "I don't recall a time when I wasn't having those kinds of dreams."

Fred strangled a moan at the back of his throat at her words. "You're such a tease..." he said huskily, before putting his hands on top of hers. His tone changed completely when he added, "but you're also changing the subject."

The bushy-haired witch sighed, and let go of her husband's shirt. "They are probably nothing, love," Hermione said. "Your mum says that she used to get some crazy dreams when she was pregnant, same with Ginny."

Fred didn't seem moved by this reassurance. "I'd rather you go see someone about this. You're not getting enough sleep these days."

"I get plenty of sleep!" she retorted. "You're the one not getting any sleep clearly, if you spend half the night watching me and misinterpreting everything you hear. Stop worrying, Fred. Everything is fine."

Fred didn't stop worrying, nor would he stop as long as these dreams kept occurring. Hermione knew this, but she was positive that these dreams were a result of her overdriven hormones. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to convince Fred of these facts anytime soon. Looking at his crestfallen face at her bitter retort, she decided that she may have been too harsh, and it was worth having another go at distracting him.

"You know I have noticed something," said Hermione, twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger. "I never seem to get bad dreams after a night of you rocking my world."

Fred smirked. There was no use fighting with her any more. "Is that so?"

She nodded, and moved closer to nibble on his ear. "Hmm, what do you say that we christen the bedroom? And then every other room in this house?" Hermione whispered suggestively. Fred didn't hesitate as he effortlessly picked up his pregnant wife and made a beeline for their bedroom.

A/N: And thus, it begins…

Never wrote a sequel before to anything (probably because I never finished anything before) so this is new. But got fantastic ideas for the future of this (I thought ahead slightly!) but warning to all:

This will be a lot darker than the first.

Something wicked comes this way…

I'll leave you to ponder on that on a while. In the meantime, review! Because I'm back and they're back!

Infinite X's and O's,

Creative Touch

P.S. 50 million points to who can tell me where the first line comes from? ("He watched her")