Part II
May 2, 2003
With a swish of her wand, Hermione had her lit candle rising in the air to join the others that were floating up, heading out above the Great Lake. She stood on the shore with a solemn crowd, silently watching the lights flicker above the water in the cool spring air.
Ministry officials, alumni of Hogwarts, and families of the fallen had gathered around for the five year memorial service. Hermione could hardly believe five years had already passed. Sometimes, it felt like it was only yesterday that she had been surrounded by death and destruction in the school she loved so much. Other times, it felt like a million lifetimes ago, the last time she'd seen Draco out as a free man…
Silent tears ran down her face. Ron took her hand in his and squeezed gently. This only made her cry harder. On her other side, Harry put his hand on her shoulder. Without looking, Hermione knew that both of them had tears on their faces, too.
Before they'd all sent their candles in the air, Minister of Magic Shacklebolt had made a beautiful speech in honor of those who lost their lives in the battle.
"And now, light your candles," Shacklebolt said in closing, "This reminds us that those who leave us are never gone, for their memories, like little, flickering flames, will live in our hearts forever."
Hermione knew Harry and Ron were thinking of Fred and Tonks and Lupin and others who had perished. Hermione, however, whispered into the wind, "Not everyone we lose, we lose to death."
She looked up at her candle, floating high above her, and knew Shacklebolt was right. The memory of who she'd lost would never stop burning in her heart. He'd always be there.
….o….o….o….
September 26, 2005
Hermione paced up and down the short length of the master bedroom. Every so often, she would catch herself biting down on her lip, and made herself stop. If she didn't, her lip would look like a massacred mess by the end of the afternoon. Up, down, up, down, she paced.
She glanced at her watch. One more minute until she could go back into the bathroom. Thirty more minutes until Ron came home. "It's alright, just breathe, Hermione, breathe," she told herself aloud. She couldn't stop wringing her hands together, and finally just sat down on the bed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this nervous.
Finally, it was time. She slowly stood up, and took in a deep breath. She walked over to the master bathroom, and looked over at the counter. On it sat two pregnancy tests; one was magical and the other was muggle. She slowly crept up on them, as if they might fly off if she came up too fast and startled them. She finally looked down at them.
Two little crosses, one on each test.
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. She was pregnant. A small sob escaped her lips, and in that moment, she didn't know if it was a sob of relief, happiness, or despair.
….o….o….o….
September 27, 2005
"What's going on, love?" Ron asked Hermione as he came up to her and started rubbing her back. Hermione had been acting strange and distant since yesterday, and he wanted to know what was wrong.
Hermione finished rinsing the dish she had in her hands, and set it down on the dish towel laying on the kitchen counter. Her brow furrowed, as if she either wasn't sure of the answer, or knew the answer and didn't know how to articulate it to her husband. She turned to face Ron.
"Yesterday…" she started, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yesterday, I found out something rather important."
"Yes?"
"I'm… Well, I'm pregnant," she finally admitted, slowly looking up to meet Ron's wide and bewildered eyes.
Ron's jaw dropped, then rose several times, as he tried to formulate words, though no sound came out. Finally, after a minute of looking like a guppy out of water, a huge grin erupted on Ron's face.
"I'm going to be a dad!" He yelled triumphantly. "We're having a baby! We're going to be parents!" He could no longer contain his excitement, and he grabbed her in a tight embrace, and twirled around the kitchen. "We have to tell mum! And Harry and Ginny! And everyone else!" He ran off, still smiling, to either write letters or grab some floo powder.
Hermione remained alone in the kitchen, the smile she'd forced upon her face slowly melting away. Was the guilt she felt over everything in her life ever going to fade away?
….o….o….o….
May 16, 2006
Hermione wailed into the sterile, hospital air. Tears dripped out from behind her lids as the pain became more and more unbearable.
"Push, Hermione, push!" the midwife told her.
"Almost there, love! Just keep pushing!" Ron said, trying to encourage her. He would have been a bit more convincing if only he didn't look so deathly pale and scared as he held onto Hermione's hand.
"I can't!" Hermione cried. "I can't do this!" She was so exhausted and in so much pain. Tears continued streaming out of her eyes as she forced herself to push once again.
"Just one more push and you'll be parents!" the midwife yelled out from between Hermione's legs.
Hermione gritted her teeth to keep herself from screaming as she gave one last, mighty push. A cry filled the room, and Hermione laid back against the fluffed up pillows. She looked up at Ron, and then they both looked over at the midwife, who was cleaning up the tiniest human Hermione had ever seen.
"Congratulations," the midwife said as she handed Hermione a bundle of blankets. "You have a beautiful, healthy, and perfect baby girl."
"I have a daughter," Ron said, in awe. He kissed the top of Hermione's head, and then the baby's. "She has my hair," he noticed with a grin.
The midwife brought a birth certificate up to the happy set of new parents, and whipped out a quill. "What are you naming her?"
Ron looked at Hermione for a moment, and she nodded at him. "Rose…Rose Eleanor Weasley."
The midwife filled out the certificate, and then let the couple have some privacy.
"I like the name you picked out," Hermione said with a smile. "A nice touch, naming her after my mum. And Rose…it's pretty."
Ron smiled back at her. "She's our little Rose…our little red rose."
After she finished nursing Rose, Hermione fell asleep right away, exhausted from giving birth. But she did not feel at all rested after she woke, for all night, she'd dreamt of roses; bouquets of red roses that slowly faded to white.
