Darkness. It was the only way he could describe it. It wasn't the kind of darkness that sooner or later your eyes would adjust to, it was the kind of darkness that you knew you were trapped in. The kind of darkness that you knew somewhere someone was watching you, waiting, biding their time for the right moment to strike. It was that kind of darkness.

She could feel the sun beaming down on her, blanketing her arms, caressing her neck, adding to the warm, healthy glow of her pregnancy. She groaned and rubbed some more suntan lotion over her limbs, struggling to reach her legs over her large, swollen belly.

"I'll get that, sweetheart. You sit back in your chair and I'll put it on you," her husband called, rushing over to help her.

She smiled and relaxed, feeling his careful hands rubbing the lotion into her shoulders, massaging them as he went. She let out a sigh of contentment. It was a rare moment, this one. He was home for six weeks, three of which were already gone, the sun was shining and for the first time since their wedding, she had a feeling of tranquillity. For in that moment, all of her worries, her fears, disappeared and she was happy, peaceful, excited.

"Thank you," she muttered, enjoying the sensation of his hands soothing her aching muscles.

She was four days past her due date, sore, grumpy and downright pissed off at the ignorance of her baby, refusing to exit the little cosy home it's mother had made for it.

"I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight, that is if you're feeling up to it. I know you haven't had much energy recently, and no wonder, with that big bump," he laughed, rubbing his wife's large stomach.

"Maybe," she mulled it over. "If I feel better tonight then yes, it would be lovely," she smiled at him.

"Great. How about I help you inside, you look like you're getting a little too warm and some shade would do you good. Can't have the mother of my unborn baby getting sunstroke, now, can I?"

She struggled to her feet, his arm supporting hers. "I think I'm going to sleep. I'm completely exhausted," she admitted.

They hobbled along the path towards the back door, slowly so as not to put her under any pressure, her leaning heavily on him.

"Matthew," she grunted, stopping abruptly.

But no more needed to be said. Water splashed around their feet, soaking both of their legs slightly. It was time.

"Promise you'll stay safe?" she whispered into his ear, trying not to let her voice crack.

"Of course I will, 'Mione. I need to so I can come home and see my beautiful wife and my gorgeous daughter for Christmas," he laughed with a sly smile.

"You're coming home for Christmas?!" she exclaimed, laughing and throwing a free arm around him.

"The boss said I can since I've got a newborn baby at home now," he grinned.

"Oh Matthew, that's wonderful, I can't wait," she sniffed, her eyes shining.

"Me either, Hermione. I'm going to go before those tears spill over or I won't go at all. I love you so much, sweetheart. It won't be long now," he pressed his lips against her forehead, then bent his head and kissed his daughter's forehead.

Hermione held on to her little girl, waving at her husband as he went. This time, waving him off felt different, more uneasy. She didn't know why, but she was afraid to find out.

"Why is she crying? Ginny? Ginny, what have I done?"

Harry Potter sat adjacent from his Goddaughter, brow furrowed, chewing his thumbnail. His glasses were askew, his shirt covered in baby food and his hair plastered to his head with sweat.

"You haven't done anything, Harry, she's a baby. Babies cry, it's what they do," Ginny snapped. "You've asked me that a million times now. The answer won't change. Just pick her up and hold her and she'll soon calm down, okay?"

"Alright. Alright, I can do this," Harry muttered under his breath, unclipping the baby from her chair. "Hello Gracie," he cooed. "Why don't we stop this silly crying and eat some yummy peaches? Yum yum," he smiled, bouncing the baby.

"Yum yum," Ginny snorted. Brilliant, Harry."

He glared. "Ginny, I am doing my best to keep this little one amused," he said, keeping his tone light so as not to upset Grace further. "If you can do any better then come and help rather than sitting there with your feet up and drinking green tea. It'll be good practice for when our little one comes along," he smirked, looking pointedly at Ginny's utterly flat belly.

"Harry, be quiet," Ginny growled. "I don't want anyone hearing that, do you understand?"

"Why not?" he asked softly, propping Grace up in his lap. "Everyone would be so pleased and God knows we could use a little happiness around here nowadays, given the situation.

"We're not telling anyone until the second trimester, Harry. You know telling anyone before the fourth month is bad luck, plus Hermione is going through a lot right now. She needs all the attention and support, not us. She lost her husband for heaven's sake."

Harry looked down and Grace who had stopped crying and was now reaching out her chubby little arms to touch the Christmas tree. He loosened his grip and allowed her to crawl over and touch the shiny baubles that were swinging from the lowest branches.

"And so close to Christmas, too," Ginny said softly, looking towards the closed living room door, through which she could hear partially what Hermione was saying to her husband's boss.

"You know, Matthew was supposed to be home for Christmas this year. Since it was Grace's first one," Harry said, making the little reindeer decorations gallop towards Grace, her tinkling laugh the only bright sound in the house.

Ginny said nothing. Instead, she looked sadly towards the seven month old baby who had no idea what was going on, the innocence and the ignorance an early Christmas gift.