The last Hogsmeade trip of their fifth year had started off as a happy occasion. It marked the year drawing to a close, and the dawning of the summer - three months without school. As Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked along the cobblestone street (Ron practically skipping with the anticipation of being free in only two weeks), they dashed into stores, spending the last of their pocket money on sweets and knick-knacks. They decided to go for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, but Hermione wanted to venture deeper into the village to visit a rare bookshop. They planned to meet at the inn.
An hour later, a raven-haired boy and his redheaded best friends were all sick with worry and concern. They found her ten minutes later unconscious on the dirty pavement of an alley. Bruised. Battered. Bleeding.
Raped.
They took her back to school, and Madame Pompfrey kept Hermione in the infirmary for the rest of the school year. She cried the entire time, traumatised. Four days into her treatment for a stab wound, bruises and a broken wrist, Pompfrey had run a diagnostic on the weak girl and had been surprised to find she was pregnant.
Hermione cried harder.
When the end of May came, the other two of the Golden Trio took her back to Order Headquarters. She locked herself in her room for a week and didn't come out for anything but to use the bathroom. Which was why everyone was so surprised when she came down for breakfast one morning and piled a mass of food that rivalled the Weasley's in amount onto her plate.
"I'm having a baby." she announced one morning, even though they all already knew. She ignored the sympathetic glances she received and continued. "I want to take care of my baby, so I can't wallow in despair anymore. Gin, will you come with me to St. Mungo's this morning?"
After an excited yes from her best female friend, Hermione finished her breakfast, slipped on a pair of ballet flats and they flooed to the hospital together. Hermione's heart broke when the doctor pointed out her baby on the ultrasound screen, and Ginny laughed when she satisfied her thirst for knowledge by taking a copy of every pamphlet on the extensive rack in the waiting room. Leaving Grimmauld Place had been hard. She couldn't stay she wasn't still broken from the trauma, but she'd just have to repair herself if she was going to be a mother. Her own problems had to be put on the back burner. She had new priorities.
Hermione had decided to brave Diagon Alley since the line for the floo at St. Mungo's seemed a million people long. Her brain screamed danger, made her panic at every flashing light, every passing pedestrian. She hardly realised she was in a store until Ginny pushed something large and thick into her hands. It was a mint green scrapbook, decorated with white polkadots and stripes.
"-and you would slot the picture in here," Ginny was saying, sliding Hermione's ultrasound image into a display in the book. "Maybe a few pictures of your parents, your stomach, godparents, doing up the nursery, all that kind of thing." She looked up from the scrapbook and turned her gaze on Hermione sympathetically. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes." Hermione said curtly. She paid for the book herself, despite Ginny's insistence otherwise, and left the store.
Three months later, a week before they were due to take the Hogwarts Express back to Scotland, Hermione's trunk all packed, she was slipping photos of Ron and Harry into one of the display pages in the scrapbook, next to another ultrasound image. She decided the green book would be the documentation of her pregnancy. An almost identical scrapbook the color of cherry blossoms Ginny had already purchased would document the first few years of her daughter's life. She had discovered she was having a girl at her second appointment.
She labelled the page the godfathers in neat cursive script and was reaching for her wand to cast a drying charm on the ink when pain exploded in her abdomen. She screamed, a piercing sound that would haunt the other residents of the Order Headquarters for years to come.
She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, but there was the law, so Harry manoeuvred two trolleys of textbooks and supplies while Hermione stared blankly ahead as Ginny gently lead her aboard the train. The compartment was silent. The golden trio and Ginny were in mourning - Hermione lost a daughter, Harry and Ron had lost a goddaughter, and their fiery-headed counterpart in losing her niece had lost her spark.
Hermione curled into Ginny, Harry appeared to be deep in thought and Ron flexed his fingers reflectively. They were all so caught up in grief that they didn't notice the compartment door slide open to reveal Draco Malfoy.
"Oh, sorry, Pansy," he sneered dramatically. "We can't take this compartment, it's already occupied by scum." The boys residing in the space barely looked up before they emotionlessly turned their heads back. The almost ever-present smirk was wiped off his face and Draco scowled before he slammed the door shut.
A month later saw that things were a little better, but only a little. Hermione was no longer silent. She ate her meals, she answered the occasional question in class. She still sobbed most of the time, but at least she could express her sadness to her friends.
Ginny cracked half-hearted sarcastic jokes sometimes. Almost always they were at Ron's expense, but sometimes they made Hermione's lips quirk upwards slightly for a few seconds, so he appreciated them.
Ron and Harry had lost their jeery nature. Neither had accepted the position of team captain for the Gryffindor quidditch team and spent their days uncharacteristically quiet, playing chess and doing homework.
They wouldn't talk about Hermione's pregnancy and miscarriage to anyone else, wouldn't say a word about what had happened. Rumours spread quickly to speculate on what tragedy had fallen upon the golden trio, some fairly plausible, some outrageous; but it was obvious whatever went on had hit Hermione hardest.
The brunette witch went up to the astronomy tower sometimes to look out at the foggy scenery. It wasn't like it was a terrific view or anything - besides the cherry blossom trees, of course - but there she could sit, be alone and think. On this particular occasion, Hermione had been sitting by the railing. She looked down to the grass below, far far down. What if she just jumped? The railing would be easy to get up onto…
She heard giggling. "Oh, Draco!" came the annoying squeak of Pansy Parkinson. Hermione was startled slightly as Malfoy and Parkinson came into view. They in turn were startled by her presence.
"Oh, joy." Draco drawled sarcastically, his tone expressing his irritation. "The mudblood."
"Geez, Granger, can't you go somewhere else to feel sorry for yourself? Some people actually do stuff up here… not that you'd know anything about that." Pansy spat.
Hermione's eyes glazed over, her mind returning to her baby. "Avocado."
Pansy was a little taken aback at Hermione's seemingly random word. "Huh?"
"My baby was the size of an avocado when she was stolen from me." Hermione's arms wrapped protectively around her stomach, despite the fact that she bore no child. "The devil forced her into me, so why would God take her away?"
The two Slytherins stared in shock for a minute at their enemy before Ginny made her entrance.
"Hermione?" the redheaded witch called gently. She received no answer, but found her friend by the balcony. She ignored Draco and Pansy, instead kneeled in front of her friend. "The healer from St. Mungo's is here, you promised me you'd see him this time, sweetie." She had a pleading tone in her voice.
Wordlessly, Hermione held out her hand. Ginny took it, stood, and then assisted Hermione in getting up. They pushed past the still dumbfounded Slytherins and made their way to the infirmary.
Six months after that found Hermione leaning against a cherry blossom tree on the Hogwarts ground, Ginny draped across the dewy grass at her feet an hour before breakfast would be served.
"Hermione?" Ginny called tentatively to her best friend.
"Hmm?" Hermione felt calm and peaceful in the cool Autumn air, under swaying branches.
"Does your heart ever play tricks on you?"
Hermione became alert at the question. She quickly assessed her own feelings… and decided.
"No." she replied honestly. "We control our own heart, our own emotions…" Ginny sat up to examine Hermione's expression as she answered. Hermione took a deep breath. "Which is why I know I love you, Ginevra Weasley. I know I wanted you to be my baby mama, I know I want you to someday be my wife. I know I want to tell you how much you mean to me every day for the rest of my life, and I know I want to kiss you right now."
Happily, Ginny obliged and pressed her delicate lips against Hermione's.
Ten years later brought howls and screeches of pain echoing against the wood of a pale blue house as Ginny pushed a baby from her loins. When finally, they quieted, a small cry began. Their daughter had made her way into the world. The redhead smiled weakly and passed the bundle of pink blankets to her wife. Hermione smiled down at the baby.
"You can name her, I'm too tired." Ginny offered self-indulgently as she closed her eyes and lent back onto the pillow of her bed. Hermione gave a little giggle and their daughter's cries softened into quiet whimpers.
"Sakura." Hermione announced. The baby opened her eyes and looked up at her mother.
"Mmm… cherry blossoms." Ginny whispered before drifting off to sleep.
The next year, a bestseller came out. The about the author flap on the book jacket read:
Hermione Granger-Weasley currently lives in the English countryside with her wife, Ginevra Weasley-Granger, their one-year-old daughter Sakura and their fox terrier Steve. They are also expecting a son, who they plan to name Arthur.
Hermione currently spends her days writing short stories for her wife's enjoyment, playing tennis with her two best friends and is content to spend most of her time with her expanding family.
And their house is surrounded by cherry blossoms.