(A/N): So, a few of you felt the last chapter was a bit slow, and I can understand that. In my defense, this story was originally written in one big chunk, so I'm doing my best to break it down into chapters. Also, I'm a "show" person. Admittedly, I can get carried away, but I'm an amateur writer and I'm learning. :)

To those of you enjoying the story – great! Your diligence has paid off. Here we start to get some answers; and the answers will continue coming from here on out. Again, expect twists. Sure, things could be as straight-forward and simple as they appear – but, where's the fun in that?

To everyone: your reviews mean so much; praise and constructive criticisms alike. I thank you for taking the time to review and hope you continue to do so!

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3 YEARS AGO

When Harry apparated into the flat, it was completely dark. This was strange, because he was never home before Hermione on the weekdays anymore. Not since he'd started training. He flicked the lights on with his wand. It was completely quiet. Still, he wasn't particularly worried. She was probably getting a bite to eat with Luna or Hannah or something of the like. He made his way down the dark hall and into the bedroom. He flourished his wand and the lights went on. He immediately noticed a medium-sized bump under the blanket on the bed. He grinned and tip-toed over. Expecting to see the angelic, peaceful face of his sleeping girlfriend, he was surprised when she rolled over at the last minute and looked up at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes. He was a bit taken back.

"Hermione…what's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.

He sunk down onto the bed beside her and rubbed her shoulder tentatively. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and she sat up without speaking. Harry took her in his arms and ran his fingers through her hair, rocking gently as he waited for her to compose herself. On the outside he appeared calm; inside, his heart hammered frantically as the very worst possibilities flicked through his head. After five long minutes, she pulled away from his chest and looked into his eyes. She blinked hard, twice.

"I'm pregnant."

Harry's mind seemed unable to process the words she'd spoken. After all, they had been barely audible; her voice was dry and cracked and low. He stared down at her, studying her face, trying to figure out if he had heard correctly. She was completely serious.

"Are…are you sure?" he asked softly after almost a minute.

She nodded and bit her lip as new tears filled her eyes.

"I went to St. Mungo's after work. I've been feeling off the whole week; getting sick the same time every afternoon. I had a pretty good idea; St. Mungo's just confirmed it."

"Afternoon?" Harry interrupted. "I thought it was called morning sickness?"

"Common misconception." Hermione sniffed. "It can actually occur anytime during the day. But, yes, most commonly in the morning, which is where it derives its name."

Harry smiled a bit, despite the situation. Leave it to Hermione to act like she was giving the answer to an exam, even in her most emotional state. He stroked her arm. He knew he needed to proceed forward very gently.

"How did this happen?"

"The same way it always happens. Yours goes into mine and…"

"No, I mean, I thought you, you know…had ways of preventing this kinda thing from happening."

Hermione glared at him.

"I do. I did. Magic isn't foolproof Harry. You of all people should know that."

Harry considered what she said for a moment. He remembered a time long ago, during their second year, when they had brewed polyjuice potion. Hermione had accidentally used a strand of cat fur instead of human hair in her share. The results had been interesting, that was for sure. Harry's mind returned to the current issue.

"Well, how pregnant are you?"

"Two-thirds pregnant." she replied sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"About four weeks." she sighed.

Harry nodded and held out four fingers. He counted wordlessly, screwing his face up in concentration.

"The night the Bubbling Brew Pub opened. Or that day rather." she offered.

Harry smiled, remembering the day. She looked at him helplessly and his heart caught in his throat. She look uncharacteristically unsure and small; so very, very small. He stroked her hair affectionately then placed his index finger under her chin and gently lifted her head.

"We're really having a baby?" he asked, a goofy expression breaking across his face. "We really…we made a baby?"

Hermione nodded her head and sniffled. Harry smiled and kissed the wet trail on her cheeks where tears had fallen.

"We're young." she breathed. "I'm not ready."

"It will be okay." he whispered. "If you want to get married, we'll get married. If you want to wait, we'll wait." He paused and kissed the top of her hand.

"I'm going to be a dad." he said incredulously.

Hermione sighed and curled up in Harry's lap. She was terrified and exhausted, but he was warm and he was strong; and some how, some way, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, things seemed like they just might be ok.

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WEDDING DAY

Hermione's heart tore in her chest. Her face crumpled up and she shoved the back of her fist into her mouth. She bit down hard, almost to the point of drawing blood, willing herself to pull it together. The Burrow wasn't much further and time seemed to be playing in fast forward. I'm not ready. I can't face this. She nibbled her bottom lip. I can't face him. A flutter of panic filtered through her veins.

"We need to stop." she practically yelled, startling both her parents.

"Stop? Right this instant?" her mother asked, turning to the backseat to study her daughters face with concern.

"Er, no." Hermione answered sheepishly after a moment. "I…uh…need to use the bathroom."

Her mother started to say how they were really quite close to the Weasley's, but Mr. Granger held up a hand, silencing her.

"Next place I see, we'll stop." he said, aware that a full bladder was probably not the main cause of his daughter's outburst.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief and sat back against the vinyl seat. She knew a stop would only prolong her inevitable arrival, but she just wasn't ready yet. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be truly ready.

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3 YEARS AGO

Ron pushed his chair back from the table and stretched his arms over his head.

"Delicious, Hermione! I didn't think you could cook." he exclaimed.

"Of course she can!" Harry laughed. "She can do anything as long as it has instructions that come in a book."

"Oh, thanks, Harry." Hermione snorted. "Glad you two have such confidence in me."

Hermione began to clear the empty plates from the table, but Harry immediately stood and grabbed them from her hands. She seemed to consider arguing for a moment, but instead sighed in resignation. Harry brought them over to the sink and left them washing themselves.

"Let's go into the sitting room." Harry suggested, rising from his seat at the table and leading his best mate and girlfriend out of the kitchen.

Ron plopped down comfortably onto the brown, marshmallowy couch. Something was up, that much he was sure of. His two oldest friends had been acting weird all night. Harry, for one, had been almost suffocatingly protective of Hermione. He pulled out her chair, refused to let her carry anything heavier than her wand and commented on the nutritional value of the sprouts she'd left uneaten on her plate. And, Harry's face had practically glowed all night. Hermione's however, had looked melancholy and lined with exhaustion. Ron cracked his knuckles. Stretches of silence had also plagued his visit, which was particularly abnormal. His best mates seemed distracted, and although he had been invited over, he felt a bit intrusive.

"I guess now is as good a time as ever." Harry said, rubbing his hands together anxiously once they'd all settled in.

Hermione shrugged. Ron cocked his eye-brow with interest.

"Okay." Harry's eyes gleamed. "We are…well Hermione is…"

Ron leaned in closer, eagerly waiting for Harry to finish his sentence.

"We're going to have a baby." Harry blurted out beaming.

Ron's mouth dropped open uncontrollably and a look of complete shock dashed across his face.

"A baby? How?"

He whistled, looking back and forth between his friends.

"Oh, Ron, don't make me explain it to you." Hermione said impatiently.

Harry made a cheering motion with his fists then reached over and gave Hermione's stomach a pat. She pulled away. The rift was obvious to Ron. He wondered if his two mates realized just how different the expressions playing in their eyes were.

"Well are you just going to sit there you git? Or are you going to shake my hand?" Harry chuckled.

Ron rose from the couch and pulled Harry into a hug, patting him on the back. When they released each other, Ron moved to Hermione. He hugged her gently and she stiffened.

"Wow. Congratulations." Ron remarked, stepping back and shaking his head. "Who else knows?"

Harry looked around the room with a grin and shrugged. Ron nodded in understanding.

"I can't believe it either." Harry sighed dreamily. "Me. A dad."

"You'll make a great dad, mate." Ron reassured, smiling warmly.

"Of course, bringing a pure-blood into this world is really going against Hermione's huge pro-muggle born campaign, but what can you do?" Harry teased.

Ron looked at Hermione. She didn't laugh. She didn't even smile. Actually, she looked lost; lost and small.

Hermione disappeared from the room shortly after the announcement and Ron didn't see her again that night. He and Harry shared a few butterbeers and played a few games of wizard's chess, before he decided it was time for him to go. He gave Harry another tight embrace and a pat on the shoulder then apparated home, an ominous sense of foreboding tugging somewhere within his gut.

Harry cleaned up the chess set and made sure the dishes had put themselves away properly before turning out the lights and heading to bed. The bedroom was dark, but he could make out Hermione's familiar outline. He undressed quietly and then slid under the blanket next to her. He wrapped his arm around her, resting his hand on her stomach and she turned over, pulling away from him. He propped himself up on his elbow and tried to playfully slide her closer to him, but she stiffened.

"Harry, just stop." she huffed.

Harry's eyes squinted in confusion.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

Hermione didn't answer. After a few moments, he sat up in the darkness and leaned over his girlfriend, resting his cheek lightly on her abdomen.

"You're mother is beautiful and smart, but, Merlin, can she be cranky!" Harry spoke softly to Hermione's belly.

She made an agitated sound and pushed his head away hard.

"Okay, come on. What's wrong, Hermione?"

Harry sat up, frustrated and grabbed his wand from the night table.

"Lumos."

The tip of his wand glowed, casting shadows across the floor and walls. He held the light source out at Hermione. She sighed with aggravation.

"What's wrong? You want to know what's wrong?"

Harry nodded his head vigorously and Hermione let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh.

"I'm pregnant, Harry. I'm having a baby. That's what's wrong. I'm having a baby and I don't want to. I just got a promotion; a promotion requiring longer hours. How does a baby fit into that?"

Harry sucked in his breath and touched her shoulder. He felt a stab of hurt as she flinched under his touch.

"Hermione, if it's about the money…we have plenty…"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, Harry. You don't get it. It has nothing to do with the money. I wanted that promotion. I want that job. I don't want to be a mother. Not now. Our lives havefinallycalmed down. We finally have a chance to be normal; for things to be uncomplicated."

Harry watched her quietly. Her voice was rising higher and higher as she continued.

"…and you! You're so into this. You're excited to tell people. You're happy. And I feel alone…alone and miserable. And you…you want to talk to the baby and touch the baby and sing to the baby and I just want to forget it. I can't breathe. You're always watching me; watching what I'm eating, watching what I'm picking up. I want to scream."

Harry's lips were pursed tightly together and his eyes were sad and dark. He let the light on the tip of his wand fade, cloaking them once again in darkness. Silence stretched between them. After a long while Harry stood from the bed. Grabbing his pillow, he walked stiffly to the bedroom door.

"I'm sorry you don't want this." he said before pulling the door open and walking out.

"I'm sorry you do." Hermione whispered to an empty room.

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Hermione woke slowly the next morning, letting the conversation from the night before filter through her memory in pieces. She groaned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Sunlight was pooling on the floor through an open window behind the bed and she idly wondered what time it was. She sighed and rolled over, looking at Harry's empty side of the bed. She bit her bottom lip as guilt washed over her.

After lying in bed a few extra minutes, she rose to her feet, stretching her arms up over her head. She had been wrong to be so selfish towards Harry last night, but she was stubborn and proud and wasn't looking forward to apologizing. Still, she knew it had to be done. Slowly, she crept out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the smell of frying bacon immediately filling her nostrils. She tip-toed quietly to the kitchen, pausing in the door way and silently watching the man she loved standing over the stove.

Harry's back was bare as he was only wearing a pair of loose fitting pajama bottoms. She could easily make out the contours of his back and shoulder muscles as he fidgeted his arms, waiting for the bacon to fry. He ran his hands through his mess of black hair before a spit of grease flew out of the pan, burning his chest.

"Bloody effing brilliant." he cursed quietly.

"Are you ok?" Hermione spoke up from the doorway, moving to tend to his wounds.

He jumped, surprised by the voice behind him.

"Oh, I'm fine." he answered, pulling her into his arms and squeezing tightly.

He kissed the top of her head. Hermione already knew he had forgiven her. He always let her off the hook, even when she was wrong. Usually, she was grateful. Today, however, she felt guilty.

"Harry, I'm sorry." she said into his chest.

He poked his fingers playfully into her sides and she squirmed, exploding into giggles.

"What's that? I didn't hear you." Harry teased, continuing to tickle her.

"Har…I…said…so-so-sorry!" she choked out, unable to catch her breath through the laughter.

"What?" he asked again, pretending not to have heard her. "You love me? Is that what you said?"

He released her and she sunk down at the kitchen table, her chest rising and falling heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

"Yes, Harry." she said after composing herself. "I love you. I love you and you're too good to me."

Harry laughed and slid some bacon off the pan and onto two plates waiting on the counter. He carried them over to the table, setting one down in front of Hermione and the other at his own place. With a flick of his wand, which had been tucked in the waist band of his bottoms, the toast rack floated over along with a jar of red-colored jam. Hermione pushed a piece of bacon around idly while Harry watched with raised eyebrows. After a few seconds, he grabbed her hand from across the table and squeezed gently. They looked at each other silently for a moment, then Hermione spoke.

"It's going to be alright." she said, sounding like she was convincing herself more than him.

Still, Harry nodded.

"I'm going to see the good in this." she continued. "I'm going to get excited. We're having a baby."

Again, Harry nodded, giving her hand a second tiny squeeze.

"We're having a baby." she repeated, as brightly as she could possibly muster. "We are having a baby."

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It had been three weeks and the summer was slowly drawing to a close. Hermione was trying her very best to stay positive. It was the least she could do. She owed it to Harry. She owed it to Harry more than he knew. He loved her new enthusiasm towards having a family, even if it was a bit forced. Hermione found it endearing how he doted on her; showering her with affection. It reminded her of their early times together, snuggling in her private Prefect bedroom, completely content just being near one another. It was as though their love was new and unfamiliar again. Still, late at night when Hermione couldn't sleep and cold truth settled in, tears would dampen her pillow and she'd wonder how this could have possibly happened to her. She didn't tell anyone at the Ministry about her condition. She didn't know how long she could wait, but she was willing to find out. She didn't tell her parents either. She couldn't bring herself to and it made her feel ashamed. She knew they'd be supportive, but telling people made it real. And, sadly, deep down, she still didn't want it to be real. Sometimes, she'd catch Harry staring; just, staring at her with a completely goofy look of awe. It made her feel beautiful; it made her feel giggly. But most of all, it made her feel guilty. Her secrets were heavy and they wore her down. They were plentiful and painful to endure alone. Still, she knew it would be worse to share them.

Neither knew just how precariously their life together as they knew it was dangling over the edge. Neither knew the end had already begun and was picking up speed. It was silent, like carbon monoxide and just as potent. It wasn't all at once. The worst breaks start as fractures that slowly lose their give over time. The stage was set and the villains had been introduced. Now, the audience was just waiting.

An owl had arrived a few days before. It delivered a letter from her parents. It always made her giggle, as they began every owl-sent letter with "Hello Love, I don't know if we've done this properly, but…" She loved how they'd taken an open arms approach to magic. Buying and caring for their own owl had only been one of the many ways they had tried to incorporate as much magic as possible into their Muggle lives. Hermione knew she was lucky to have them, but on this particular morning it made her feel uncomfortably guilty. In the letter they had sent their love and asked if she would visit sometime soon. Today, she was doing just that. She was visiting, but she was also getting some weight off her shoulders. Today she would share her secret; today she would reveal the truth.

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Harry and Ron were sitting at the kitchen table, huddled close to the wireless. Every now and then Hermione would hear an outburst of clapping or groaning, depending on how the Quidditch game played out. She flattened her blouse against her stomach, wondering how long it would be before she started to show; before the truth would be visible. Sighing, she left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen where the boys were now whooping it up.

"So, who's winning?" she asked, passing through the doorway.

"Oh come on Hermione! The Chudley Canons of course!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but laughed. She walked over to where Harry sat and placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging gently.

"I'm going to go to my parent's house now. I'll probably stay for dinner, but I trust you two can handle getting a meal on your own."

Both boys nodded and leaned in closer to the wireless. Hermione sighed. They weren't listening.

"Ok, then. Bye."

She turned, readying herself for apparition when suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, causing her to jump. She followed the arm up to the shoulder and then to the head, where two green eyes were staring at her in disbelief.

"What are you doing?" she asked crossly.

"What are youdoing?" Harry countered with just as much anger.

"If you were listening to me instead of that stupid Quidditch game, you would have heard me say I was going to visit my parent's." she shot.

"I heard you." he said impatiently. "Hermione, you were about to apparate. What are you thinking?"

She stared at him, wrinkling her brow in confusion.

"Oh, I don't know! I was thinking I was baking a cake!" she said sarcastically.

"You can't apparate!" he cried, then added in a whisper, "You're pregnant."

Her mouth hung open and she shook her head.

"I can't apparate because I'm pregnant?" she snorted, emphasizing the word pregnant. "And why are you whispering? It's not a secret. Ron knows. You couldn't wait to tell him remember? You just can't wait to be a dad, can you?"

She knew her anger was becoming a bit irrational, but what was this rubbish about apparition?

"No. You can't apparate. You can't apparate because you're pregnant. It isn't safe, you don't know how your body will react. You'll end up spliced for sure." Harry replied, ignoring her jabs.

"Oh, and startling me mid-apparation is a brilliant idea. Regularly, there is just the chance of splicing…why not ensure it happens and then blame it on me, right?"

Harry glared at her.

"You're not apparating."

Hermione's blood boiled. She hated being spoken to as though she were a child; and in front of Ron, nonetheless.

"Oh, honestly Harry. What do you think pregnant witches have been doing for hundreds of years?" Hermione said through clenched teeth. She tried to pull her arm away, but Harry tightened his grip.

"Flying." he snapped. "Shall I fetch your broom?"

He raised his eyebrows. He knew full well she despised flying. She scowled.

"So, then what? I'll just walk?" she asked, still trying to twist her arm loose.

"Take the car Hermione." he said, his voice softer.

"The drive will take forever!"

"Oh, right." Harry quipped. "Then your suggestion was much better. Walk if you want."

Hermione caught Ron out of the corner of her eye and suddenly felt embarrassed. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She gave a final tug and Harry released her arm. She hated these precautions, she hated this situation and she hated the stresses she carried all alone. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand angrily, spun on her heels and stalked away. She pulled the car keys off their hook and left, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could.

"Hormones mate." Ron offered, trying to comfort his pal.

Harry shrugged and sighed.