Title: Copper
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters belong to JKR. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit of any kind is being made.

Forgetting their previous argument, Hermione stood, arching her back to stretch. She ran her hand over her stomach feeling the tiny, little bulge.

"We're going to have to tell your parents about the baby soon," Harry smiled, placing a nervous hand on her stomach.

She grinned at him, grasping his hand in hers, "It's ok." She laid it flat on her belly. "Won't be kicking yet," she grinned at him.

He nodded, picking her up with his free arm and carrying her to their bedroom. She giggled and screeched the whole way, laughing as he dropped her on the bed.

"I've got that match in three days. We'll have to get back on a normal people schedule by then." He talked to her as he pulled off his sweater, before flopping on the bed next to her.

"I can't believe everything that's happened in the last few days." He pulled her towards him.

"I know," she spooned up to him as he wrapped his arms around her, "sometimes, I wish we lived in our own little world."

She felt him nod, and soon he was snoring, leaving her thinking maybe things could be ok.

-------

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Harry wasn't in bed. She fumbled with the sheets, searching for his body, but he wasn't there. She flew out of bed and tugged on her hair, stumbling as the blood rushed to her head.

"Harry?!"

She tried to steady her footing and straightened her clothes.

"Harry? Where are you?!"

Walking into the hallway, she blinked, the sunlight hurting her eyes.

"Hermione? I'm in the kitchen."

She shuffled in to find him sipping on coffee, eating his last bits of toast. "Want some breakfast?" he nodded to the counter where there was a plate of food, keeping warm. She smiled at him and picked it up.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't want to," he shook his head, dropping the Daily Prophet on the table for her.

"What?"

"You looked so happy. Besides, life has been so stressful lately, I knew you could use the rest."

"You could have, too," she grinned at him, taking a bite of her eggs.

"I have…nightmares," he shifted in his chair.

"Oh?"

"Yes." He grinned shyly at her. "Can't believe the price of the Daily Prophet has gone up."

Hermione dropped her fork. "Oh, stop trying to change the subject Harry. It's ok to be vulnerable sometimes. You don't always have to play the hero, you know. What are they about?"

"Nothing. Everything."

"Sorry?"

"I dream about Sirius, and Dumbledore, and Hagrid, all of them dying. Or about Remus attacking me. About you. You dying."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione reached her hand across the table.

"No, it's fine. Really, it's alright. They're just memories – or fears – that won't go away."

"Mmm." She went back to her breakfast, taking Harry's obvious hint.

"So, I thought we should let Hogwarts know you won't be back for a couple more days, then we can head to Reading early and check it out."

"Sounds good. Sounds great. But don't you think we should look around for Remus a bit first?"

"I have been."

"Sorry?"

"I've been sending owls to everyone I can think of, asking if they've seen Remus lately. Seems that except to a select few, Remus hasn't existed for 3 years."

"Three years?"

"Yes. 1,095 days."

"I'm not stupid," she smiled as she retorted.

"What I can't figure out," he sobered as he stood to put his dishes in the sink, "is why they haven't seen him. They can't seem to explain it themselves. Just telling me things like, 'He hasn't been 'round,' or 'I've been to busy.' Things like that."

Hermione nodded and watched him pull a wand out of his pajama pocket, setting the dishes to work on themselves. "I remember," he said, grabbing onto the sink and leaning on it for support, "the first time I ever really met Remus. It was like a window had opened. He was my first real chance to connect to my mom and dad. And then, so soon, just like that, he was gone. He does that a lot?" He turned to Hermione, and she was alarmed to see he was crying.

She stood up, dropping everything in her hands and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Harry. We'll find him, I promise."

--------

They flew to Reading on their brooms, at night so no one would see them, their trunks hovering weightlessly next to them. Harry talked to her a fair amount in the beginning, but eventually grew tired, leaning forward on his broom, giving it the smallest amout of direction.

"Your broom's not a thestral, Harry," Hermione joked, "It doesn't know where to go without your direction."

He nodded and tapped it a little to the east. "There?" He grunted, "Happy?"

"A little."

----------

Reading was a small town. A few motels, a couple pubs and one general store, nothing else to its name. Harry was surprised an International Quidditch match would be held here, but then, they always did try to find obscure places. This was the quintessential obscure city.

They walked over to the motel where they knew all the other Quidditch players were staying – some with their wives, but mostly alone – and booked themselves a room. On their way up the stairs to their fourth floor room, Viktor dashed by them. "Oh!" Hermione dropped her things, and ran after him, leaving Harry laughing, but left to carry her trunk, none – the – less.

He could hear them talking in the stairwell as he clambered up the stairs, and finally he stopped. He stuck his head over the railing and yelled down to Hermione, "Take him out for a drink, love, catch up!"

He heard her consult him for a minute and then the patter of her feet up the stairs. "He said another night," she explained, catching her breath, "his team's practicing right now."

Harry nodded and tugged the trunks into the hallway, where Hermione led the way to their room, turning an old, copper key inside of the doorknob.