Disclaimer: Of course you all know that the characters and the wonderful Harry Potter world was created and is owned by J.K Rowling. I am merely using the foundation to paint my own picture.
A/N: This is my second story. I hope you like it. Please read and review to tell me what you think. Also, the italicised parts are memories.
"I love you, Sweetheart" came Ron's rushed voice. He had an urgent call from the office and needed to get down there. He was rushing back and forth around the house, gathering all of his things. Hermione waited patiently at the fireplace, her hands gently resting on the small bump that had grown on her stomach. She wanted to protest his leaving on his day off, the night they were to sit in and have a sweet dinner together. But Hermione knew better; this was his work, he was an Auror after all and he wouldn't leave if he didn't have to. Ron ran down the stairs of their modest house to the fireplace in their living room.
After kissing Hermione on the lips he said, "I love you".
"I love you too, Ronald," replied Hermione. Even after all these years, she still called him Ronald instead of Ron. "Be safe, okay?" said Hermione, attempting to hide her nervousness.
"Of course I will be safe," said Ron, "I've got you two to take care of don't I?" he said smiling, as he put one hand on her stomach and used his other to stroke her hair. He bent down to kiss her stomach, flashing her a quick smile, and then turning to step into the fire place and apparate to his office.
Hermione stared longingly at the fireplace for a moment, before giving up and deciding to do some cleaning in the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen and found herself a seat near the tall window in her kitchen. She moved her wand around a few times, causing the dishes to begin cleaning themselves and her counters to wipe themselves clean. Sighing, she let her gaze reach the window and stare at the sky. It was a rather gray afternoon, giving the landscape a rather depressing feel. She wondered what Ron was doing; what case could possibly be so important that the office would need to call him in. She pondered how Harry was doing; he hasn't been the same since the war ended, and he's only gotten worse since Ginny left him three years ago. She let her thoughts wander to wherever they pleased until her cleaning was done. She looked up at the clock, seeing it was six o'clock. She walked to the fridge and pulled out a container filled with chicken strips. A few small taps of her wand on the container, and the strips were heated. She reached for the ketchup before walking to the couch in the living room. She pulled the table closer to her, and set up her meal. She grabbed the blanket that lay over the back of the couch and draped it over her. She reached for the good book she had been reading and settled herself in. Now things were settled just right: Food, book, and a good blanket – all just what she needed.
Three hours had passed and Hermione's eyes were getting heavier with each line she read from her book. She was considerably tired. She paused from her reading for a moment, focusing her attention on the view of the outside from the living room window. It was dark outside and the clouds were thick. There were thick raindrops falling quick and heavy from the sky. Hermione took a deep breath in and closed her eyes for a moment but was quickly taken out of her moment of peace by the sound of thunder. She jumped for a moment before shaking the feeling of fear from her heart.
Looking down at her bump, she said, "Well I guess it's time for bed". She lifted herself off the couch and began walking up the stairs. It was getting late, and she was rather tired.
"Where do you think your father is?" Hermione asked her stomach as she gently rested her hands on her bump. "Well I'm sure he'll be home soon," said Hermione, "Or at least I hope".
Hermione changed her clothes and put on some pajamas. Walking over to bed, she stretched by putting her arms in the air and arching her back. She pulled the covers back and stepped into bed. Reaching over to turn out the light on her side table she said, "Good night, sleep tight," to her little bump.
Harry sat on his bed, alone in his bedroom. He had a shot glass in one hand, full of fire whiskey; Harry's best friend lately. He was asked to take a few weeks off from work by his boss. He was asked to stay home, get himself some rest. He was basically asked to return home until he was more mentally stable.
But he hadn't been very stable since the fall of Voldemort and things had only gotten worse once Ginny left him. That last conversation they had still rang through his mind, even though she left him three years ago.
"Harry, Harry are you okay?" asked Ginny; just like she did every night he sat in his study alone with a bottle of fire whiskey.
Harry didn't respond. He never really talked much anymore.
Ginny sighed and stepped into the study. She leaned against the desk and looked at Harry with a serious expression.
"Harry," she paused for a moment, knowing the conversation coming ahead would not be a good one. "We need to talk," she finished.
Harry took a swig of the fire whiskey. He didn't even look at her.
"I've been offered a job, over in Scotland. I've been thinking about it for a long time, going back and forth on different scenarios. And, I've decided to take it".
Harry took another swig before turning to her to look at her.
"Harry, you know I've been trying. I understand that you've had a hard time dealing with all the loss since the final battle. I've tried to help you in anyway I could think of," Ginny began to have tears fill her eyes and she used the back of her hand to wipe a tear that began to make a trail down her cheek.
"I love you, Harry. I love you so much. And that's why it hurts me so much to see you so broken. I've tried everything Harry. I don't know what more to do," finished Ginny. Now she couldn't hold the tears back. She let the tears flow freely now, understanding that there was no use in trying to hold her emotions back.
Finally Harry spoke, "Ginny, I love you too". He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. She cried into him and he held her.
"I'm sorry I can't be all the things you deserve. I want to be, but I just can't," finished Harry.
They stayed like that for a long while, crying and holding each other. They slowly began to calm down, and Harry turned to Ginny and kissed her with all the love he had for her.
When they broke away, Ginny looked at Harry. "Harry," she began, "I…I can't stay here anymore. I can't live like this". And Harry understood. He didn't need any more explanation.
Ginny kissed his forehead, before finishing. "I'll be leaving in the morning," said Ginny, her voice trailing off. Ginny searched Harry's face for any sort of sign, but Harry just nodded and stared at the floor.
Ginny stood up, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
Harry hated the nights when he could only think of Ginny. He hadn't heard from her since, and merely got updates about her from Ron once in a while.
It was late, and Harry knew he should get to bed. Things had been getting better slowly since he started therapy. If it wasn't for Ron and Hermione, he didn't know where he would be.
Harry put the fire whiskey down, and got himself into bed. He tossed and turned for an hour before finally falling asleep.
Hermione awoke with a start. There was a loud knocking noise coming from downstairs. Hermione put on her bathrobe and proceeded down the stairs. The rain was still hitting her roof rather hardly and it was still very dark outside. She reached the door, unlocked it, and then opened it to find a tall man with a medium build standing in front of her.
"Mr. Lagarway, what are you doing here?" asked Hermione curiously. Then it hit her. "Oh my goodness, is Ron okay?"
"Mrs. Weasley, may I come in?" asked Mr. Lagarway, removing his hat to reveal his brown hair. Hermione nodded and moved out of the doorway, gesturing for Mr. Lagarway to come in. He tapped his head with his wand first, which instantly made the man dry. He entered the house and let his eyes wander, looking at the walls and furniture.
Hermione made her way to the living room and sat on the couch, motioning for the man to sit in the armchair to her right.
"So?" asked Hermione, growing impatient, "What's wrong?"
"Mrs. Weasley, I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but there has been an accident," came Mr. Lagarway's serious tone. He had a solemn tone that was very deep.
"An accident?" came Hermione's voice, squeaking a bit towards the end of her question.
"The group of aurors Ron was in was attacked by a radical wizarding terrorist group. The ministry sent a recovery team in as soon as we got word of the attack. Unfortunately, we were too late," Mr. Lagarway could feel his own throat becoming tighter. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then continued. "There were no survivors".
Hermione felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs. Her jaw was open and she felt her mouth dry up instantly. She began shaking her head from side to side.
"No…No, you…you must be mistaken," came Hermione's shaky voice. Looking up at Mr. Lagarway's face however, confirmed that he was not mistaken.
"Oh God…" came Hermione's trailing voice. She put her head in her hands and began sobbing violently.
"I am very sorry for your loss," said Mr. Lagarway before standing up and walking towards the door. He opened the door and walked into the night. This was definitely the worse part of his job. He hated telling these women that their husbands were dead. He hated more telling them in such a cold-mannered way. However, the ministry viewed everything in a protocol way, and treated each case the same.
Harry woke up in the middle of the night to a pounding sound at his door. He mumbled for a moment, not ready to wake up, but the pounding continued. Harry got up and began walking down the stairs.
Another pounding sound could be heard. "I'm coming, I'm coming," came Harry's raspy morning voice.
He got to the door and opened it to find a very distraught and sobbing Hermione.
"Hermione? What's happened? What's wrong?" asked Harry.
