Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. And OMG, July is almost here!!!

Chapter 4

As I stare at the fire, I can feel the heat of it warming my face and a fleeting thought passes through my mind that perhaps I'm sitting too close. I'm incapable of giving this observation any more consideration, however, as my mind has chosen instead to wander over the past week.

Many women when they find out they're pregnant go out and purchase a wide variety of silly, sentimental baby things as a means of celebrating… of savouring. I always thought that I'd be above that kind of behaviour, but I'm reluctant to admit that I'm no different. I fell victim to the draw… the call. Unlike most women though, I did not get a stuffed animal, or a toy, or even a soother. What did I, Hermione Granger-Weasley, purchase? A book. Shocking really!

I couldn't help myself. If there was something my child was going to have and need, it would be a book. Namely the one my parents used to read to me when I was little called "Bedtime for Frances". My father still loves to tell me how at three I had the entire thing memorized. And that if he or Mum tried to change even one word, I'd point my little index finger at them and give them a stern, clenched look. I can only imagine what kind of strength it must have taken for them not to burst out laughing. I was a stickler for doing things the proper way, even then.

A spark from the fire draws me back to the present and I breath in sharply through my nose, clearing out the mental fog that had surrounded me. Taking it as a plea to be fed, I crumple up the piece of parchment in my hand and toss it into the dwindling flames only to see them dance merrily, consuming the new fodder. I can't help but to feel both hatred and envy for the fire's ability to survive and thrive through the destruction of anything that lies in its path.

It's truly amazing how much can happen in the course of a day… less than twenty four hours really. A week ago, I was pregnant…. Last night even… Now, I get those goddamned bloody awful cramps, and I'm not. I'm bleeding like a stuck pig.

What's worse is that Ron's not here. He left early this morning for a bloody International Magical Cooperation Conference in Boston. It was still dark when he kissed me lightly, and whispered his goodbye. I hate bloody Americans. All right I don't hate them, I'm just really upset with them right now for taking my only source of comfort.

When I woke up this morning to blood all I could do was lie there and stare at the ceiling. There was blood on the sheets, blood on the duvet. Blood had even soaked through to the mattress.

I just lay there as the tears streamed from my eyes.

I only ventured out of the flat once, and that was to get a very large bottle of red wine. I thought 'What the hell! I'm the only one I'm hurting!' I didn't even bother to go to my healer. What was the point? It was painfully obvious that I'd lost another one. I don't need her to tell me that.

What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with my body that it just keeps rejecting life?

I felt truly sorry for Ron when he flooed to touch base earlier tonight. The sweet man floos at least three times a day when he's away whether I'm home or not. When he saw the mess that I was, he didn't even need to ask.

Now I sit here dumbly watching the flames dancing in the grate as they first lick then devour each page I sacrifice. Yes… I burned a book. I burned the book. I see my childhood memories being enveloped in black.

I can feel the wetness on my face as the tears continue to burn a path down my cheeks, but I really can't be bothered to care. And this is how Ron finds me - in a proverbial puddle on the floor in front of the fireplace with the half emptied wine bottle clutched in my right hand.

In an absolute rage, he grabs it from me and hurls it into the grate.

"Hey, someone could step on that and hurt themselves." I hear myself saying.

For some reason, I find this absolutely hysterical, and I start to giggle at my own wit.

"It's not bloody funny, Hermione!" He screams desperately.

But my laughter has already turned into wracking sobs. He drops to his knees, and wraps his arms around me. Kissing my temple, he starts to rock me gently.

"I lost… What's wrong with me?" I gasp out.

"Nothing, love. Absolutely nothing."

Still on my knees, I curl into a ball forcing him to bend with me, shaking violently with the force of my pain.

After a minute, or maybe an hour, I hear him clear his throat. "Listen love, I know you don't want to hear this right now, but…"

I still my crying to listen. His is the only voice that has been able to bring me any kind of reason or peace throughout this nightmare.

"…but the fact that you were able to get pregnant now is a good sign, isn't it? It's a bloody fantastic sign, yeah? It means your body is moving in the right direction."

Try as he might, Ron can't keep the waver from his voice. He lost his child today as well.

I sit up, and look at him. "But what if it was just a fluke?"

"I refuse to believe that." He answers me evenly.

I consider him for a moment. I watch the warmth of the fire dance across his steady, loving features. His freckles and shining blue eyes jump out at me, and I'm instantly reminded of the steadfast, stubborn little boy I fell in love with.

"Please don't leave me." I plead, the tears breaking through again.

"Nowhere else I would ever want to be." he answers me quietly, and then pulls me easily into him.

A/N: My goodness, I'm so sorry for the long delay between updates. I'll be better from now on.

cellogirl: Sorry for the wait. Thank you so much :)

kaededainecalwyn: Sorry for this chapter, but sometimes bad things happen.

WeasleyGirl-ca: Thank you. Yeah, there are still a few bumps ahead.

sballLuvr5: Um... yeah, sorry. Life is very unfair.

stoneofpurity: No swelling insides on this one.

BuckNc: I'll try on the longer chapters, but they're quite challenging when written in first person. I'll try all the same :)