Okay, let me clarify my summary: I dreamed the idea of what I've written, I didn't actually dream THIS. If that makes any sense. Anywho, I hope you like this! And I'll probably be naming the chapters after song lyrics, like this one. I heard Christina Perri's song The Lonely yesterday and she says, "I sing myself a quiet lullaby" and I got addicted to said song. But yeah. Hope you like!

Disclaimer: I'm not Jo.

-LovelyAlice831-


A Quiet Lullaby

"You still not going to tell us who the father is?" Harry asked as he took a drink of Butterbeer.

Hermione shook her head, feeling slightly frightened. She laid a shaking hand on her slightly swollen belly and cast a fearful look at Ron, who was determinedly avoiding her eyes.

Harry shrugged, not noticing Ron's behavior to Hermione, being so used to it as he was, and started talking about the wedding next month with Ginny.

Hermione let out a tiny sigh that was not missed by Ron. He threw her a disgusted look and stood abruptly. Harry stopped talking and eyed his best mate warily.

"I gotta go," Ron muttered and, without further ado, he left, letting the door to Hermione's flat shut with a snap.

Harry sighed heavily and put his Butterbeer on the table in front of him, and then he sat back in his seat, watching Hermione, who exhaled sharply and snapped, "I don't want to hear it, Harry!"

"Hermione, he's hurt," Harry explained gently. "He doesn't understand."

"He understands perfectly well," she scoffed.

"Why can't you just tell us who he is?" Harry asked softly. "Just tell us."

"I can't, Harry," Hermione said shrilly. "Just…please."

"I'll send Ginny over, okay?" Harry said as he stood. Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. She heard a loud crack and knew he had left. She let out a relieved breath just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Hermione?" Ginny called through the door. "It's me, Ginny."

"Come in," Hermione called back.

She heard the door open and close, and then Ginny's voice floated towards her.

"Ron's angry again," Ginny said, sounding disgusted. "He's being such a prat. Oh, hello, Crookshanks," she added as she rounded the corner to the kitchen where Hermione was sitting, the large ginger cat trailing behind her.

Ginny took a seat, was silent a moment, then said, "I'm in the same boat as you."

It took Hermione a moment before she let out a gasp and lurched forward on the edge of her seat. A small kick of protest inside her had her laughing. Ginny joined in and together, they both laughed for a moment before Hermione calmed down enough to say, "How long?"

"Almost two months," Ginny replied, still chuckling. "I only just found out today. I wait 'til Harry was gone. Mum knows, she's a mess right now."

Hermione was beaming.

"I can't wait to know what you're having," Hermione said eagerly.

"Same for you," Ginny pointed out with a grin.

"I think it's a girl," Hermione admitted.

"I want a girl too," Ginny said with a sigh, "but with my luck, it's a boy."

They both sat in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts when Ginny broke the silence a few moments later.

"When will you tell him?" she asked.

Hermione bit her lip nervously.

"I don't know if I can," she said anxiously.

"Hermione," Ginny said in exasperation, "if it has red hair, then they'll all know."

"I know," Hermione said, sounding desperate. "But I just…I can't tell him. I can't."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded. "Hermione, he'll be happy to know it's his! Merlin's beard, he thinks it's Krum's!"

"What?" Hermione gasped, thrown.

"The git thinks it's bloody Viktor Krum's kid!" Ginny said.

"How could he think-"

"You never told him otherwise," Ginny said quietly.

Hermione sagged in her seat then said, "I'll tell him. Soon."

Ginny nodded approvingly and directed the conversation away from the baby's father.

But Ginny was right. Did Ron really think it was Krum's? For God's sake, Ron was the only man she had been with! But he was extremely jealous and also thought he wasn't good enough for anyone. Him thinking it was Krum's child only angered Hermione. How many times had she told him she loved him? But then again, Hermione thought, she had been the one to break up with him due to a nasty bout of temper one night several months ago. And what an awful mess that was. And Harry bringing Ron over was a bad idea anyways. It was one of the only times they had seen each other the past few months.

Several hours later, Hermione was alone, sitting in front of her conjured flames, Crookshanks curled up beside her, and a thick tome in her hands when a small nudge broke her concentration.

"I know," she murmured to her belly as she placed a hand on it. "I'll tell him. I will."

Another nudge.

"I promise," she said. "Soon."

Nudge.

"Fine," she sighed.

Standing, Hermione crossed to her desk, sat down, and pulled her quill and a piece of parchment towards her. Dipping her quill in the ink, she hesitated before scrawling out: I need to talk to you. Tomorrow. Five o'clock, my flat. Please. Hermione.

She rolled up the letter, sealed it with a tap of her wand, conjured up her otter Patronus then sent it.

After a few moments, she stood and ambled to her room where she got ready for bed.

Just as she was crawling under the covers, Crookshanks curled beside her, a terrier Patronus formed at the foot of the bed – and then it vanished, leaving a piece of parchment in its place.

Hermione snatched it up, unsealed it with a tap of her wand, and unfurled the letter.

Tomorrow.

She flipped the parchment over, but found nothing more than that one word: Tomorrow.

Feeling only fractionally better, Hermione curled protectively in a ball under the blankets and fell into a light sleep.


Please review! I like reviews...a lot!

-LovelyAlice831-