Hermione woke up late. It was past noon when she finally rolled out of bed. She had a hard time sleeping at night. It was too dark; she never knew what could be hiding where she couldn't see. And she kept having nightmares about the night Ron was killed. So she tossed and turned all night and slept through half the day.

She tottered down the hall to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She washed her face and dragged a brush through her hair. She could remember basic hygiene, but that was about it. She ended up back in the old wing-back armchair with her room a mess behind her. She was still in her nightgown; she couldn't be bothered to change. It was raining today. She sat and watched the rain drops splash against the window until Mrs Weasley gently knocked on her door.

"Come in." Hermione murmured, her eyes never leaving the window.

"Hermione, love." Mrs Weasley began slowly. "Would you like something to eat? I've made soup and sandwiches."

"No thank you." Hermione whispered. "I'm not hungry."

"Hermione, you must eat something." Mrs Weasley insisted. "At least for the sake of the baby."

Hermione glanced down at her rounded stomach and sighed. She didn't want this. She was too young. There was a war going on. She would be a single mom. She had no interest in this baby. The only reason she was still blundering through life was that this baby was half of Ron. If she couldn't protect him, then she would protect his child.

She nodded and Mrs Weasley helped her up. She slipped on her house coat and trailed down the stairs after her. Mrs Weasley sat her down at the kitchen table and set a small bowl of soup and half a sandwich in front of the young woman. She knew that Hermione didn't eat that much, so she didn't give her a lot. Hermione nibbled the corner of the sandwich as Harry walked through the doorway.

"How did it go, Harry dear?" Mrs Weasley asked sympathetically.

Harry frowned, "I think he really has deviated from the Death Eaters. He did give us some useful information. I just don't know what we're going to do with him."

He sat across from his old friend and patted her hand, "How are you feeling today, Hermione?"

"Fine." She mumbled. He smiled at her then tucked in to the sandwich Mrs Weasley placed in front of him.

Hermione sipped at a small spoonful of soup and studied her friend. In the times her thoughts were clear, she often thought about how Harry was dealing with everything. She knew he was just as affected by Ron's death as she was, but he had to stay strong. She knew that he thought he had to support everyone, but all the deaths and fear were hurting him. She was impressed, though that he could keep going. The Weasleys were as well. Even though Mrs Weasley lost her youngest son, she took care of everyone and didn't complain or shut down. Hermione couldn't do that though. She tried to carry on, but it was like she was lying in a deep, dark hole and everything was going on just out of her reach.

Hermione felt the baby kick her and she winced.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked instantly.

"I'm fine. The baby keeps kicking me, though." She murmured and went back to her lunch.

"What are you going to do once the baby is born?" He asked.

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it." Hermione mumbled.

Harry was quiet for moment then said more to himself then to Mrs Weasley or Hermione, "I have an idea..."

He slipped from the table and nearly ran from the kitchen. Hermione didn't even watch him go. She ate two more bites of her sandwich and another sip of her soup then pushed her food away.

Mrs Weasley cleaned up the kitchen and Hermione fiddled with the sleeve of her pajamas. She felt tired again. She was debating on whether or not she should take a nap when Harry returned with Malfoy and a few other Order members.

"So I have a plan." Harry said. "I know it's kind of odd, but I think it'll work."

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"I think that Hermione should go live in a safe house." Harry responded. "For her own protection."

"I agree." Mrs Weasley said. "Especially because of the baby."

"But..." Harry continued. "I think Malfoy should live with her."

"What? No!" Everyone instantly shouted that suggestion down.

"Harry, that's mental." George said.

"Why, though? He needs a place to hide from the Death Eaters and she needs to stay out of the action for her and her child's safety." Harry reasoned.

"But, he's..." Fleur didn't continue, just eyed Draco distrustfully.

"I am on your side! How many more times do I have to say it?" Draco snapped.

"Hermione can't stay by herself." Harry murmured. "She needs... help. She would need someone to take care of her. And Malfoy doesn't want the Death Eaters to find him."

Hermione didn't appear to be listening. She was staring off into space and picking a stray thread off her sleeve. In that moment, Draco hated her. He hated everything about her from her vacant expression and gaunt face to her bird-like wrists and her tangled hair. He hated how absolutely wrong she was acting. She wasn't supposed to be sitting there and taking this, she was supposed to be fighting and arguing and vowing to never live with the inbred ferret. She was supposed to want to stay and fight, not go hide in some hut in the forest. When did she get so damned fragile?

"Is that okay with you, Hermione?" Ginny asked her gently.

She looked up with a lost expression. Draco was furious at her. She was the most annoying person he knew, she wasn't some little baby bird that couldn't survive on its own. But she was so breakable, so weak. So unlike how she used to be.

Hermione nodded. Looking slightly bewildered, like she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"What about you?" Harry asked Draco brusquely.

"Fine." Draco snapped.

Mrs Weasley put a mothering arm around Hermione and led her upstairs, presumably to pack a bag. The Order members gave him cold looks before leaving the kitchen.

Harry stood awkwardly before Draco then gestured for him to take a seat.

"We need to talk." Harry said seriously. "Hermione is severely depressed about Ron's... death." Harry winced then continued. "She's also pregnant, as you saw. She's in a frail state of mind so if you hurt her, or do anything to harm her, you will be... killed." Harry said the last word with conviction even though he didn't look too pleased at the thought of death.

"So basically, I have to play nice with Granger or I'll be executed?" Draco drawled.

"Basically, yeah." Harry snapped back. "This is for your protection as well. I trust that you really have left the Death Eaters, but if anything happens to her... you will be in serious trouble."

"So when are we leaving for this safe house?" Draco asked lazily.

"Tonight. We have several safe houses for Order members to go to, if need be. I think the best one for you two would be in the south-west of Ireland, in a town called Dingle." Harry said.

"Fine." Draco said.

"This house as the highest protection on it. We will also be putting a Fidelius Charm on it when we get there. I will be the Secret Keeper." Harry told him. "This town doesn't have any wizards in it, so you will have to blend in. You will have to buy clothes when you get there, since you didn't bring anything."

"Alright." Draco said uncaringly.

Harry gave him a dirty look and left the room. Draco let out a deep breath and shut his eyes.