A/N: Hi guys, I was struggling with this chapter a lot, so I decided to flash back. In fact the next couple might be. Why not? Gives a little insight to Hermione's past between the war and Severus. I also realized that there was an element I had in the first few chapters and a few interactions that has since died off, so I wanted to make sure it wasn't forgotten. So this is kind of it's reemergence. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Hermione barely managed to get the silencing charm up on the bathroom before emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. The acidic taste in the back of her throat only helped urge her stomach to empty even further, though all that came up was bile.

In her heart, she already knew the cause, though she refused to admit it to herself. It was one thing if she and Ron had been together. But the fact of the matter was, they hadn't been. And the cause of her sickness had nothing to do with him. It had everything to do with the man that she hated herself over. Not for what he did, but for how she felt about it. She didn't hate the man. Whomever he had been, the moment his hand touched her skin, she felt calmed instantly and safe. And it wasn't caused by any spells. Simply the touch…of a death eater.

After the vomiting and self-loathing subsided, Hermione washed her face and rinsed her mouth. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide the fact from anyone much longer. The Weasleys had been so kind as to let her stay with them until she'd decided it was best to retrieve her parents. But it was hard. She'd had a different plan of how things were going to go.

Knowing that hiding in the bathroom all day was not an option, Hermione cancelled the silencing charm and opened the door, coming face to face with George.

"You've been spending a lot of time in there lately," He noted. He tried to tease, but he was still mourning the loss of his brother, even if it meant that his other half was still alive.

"Everyone uses it daily, George, nothing different here," Hermione said, trying to play it off. She wasn't ready for others to know. She wasn't ready to admit anything out loud.

"Any reason for the silencing charm?"

"I like privacy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to the kitchen."

She tried to push past him, but he stood firm.

"What are you hiding?" he asked her softly.

"Nothing," she said, rubbing her arms, wishing this exchange would end.

He grabbed her wrist and pushed back the sleeve. He didn't really know why, but he had. And he was face to face with the scarred word.

Hermione ripped her arm from his grip. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"Nothing. I don't know. It's just, you spend a lot of time hiding and covering yourself and I'm worried."

"I cover myself because I hate that scar. I hate that word. And I can't make it go away because Bellatrix is a sadistic woman who curses everything she uses with dark magic so that the scars remain forever, no matter what attempts the person might use to cover it up. Make up doesn't work, glamours don't work, nothing except my clothing. And I hide because I'm sick of being treated like a porcelain doll. I am sick of everyone tiptoeing around mentioning Ron."

George turned to the side, letting her pass, a look of shock painted on his face. "They only do it because they love you and care about you."

She made her move past him. "I know. But that's not how I want to be handled. I'm not fragile. I dealt with a lot during that battle, everyone did, but that's all anyone seems to care about."

She made it down a few steps before George asked, "Are you pregnant?"

Her face flushed and she disappeared without answering. How had he figured it out? She knew that they knew she had been captured. And that she was found in a disheveled state. But she never told anyone what had happened. No one except the therapist she had started seeing.

Hermione managed to avoid George for most of the day. And when sleep evaded her, she snuck outside to sit in the warm summer air with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"I am going to assume that between your refusal to answer and the fact that you avoided me all day, I'm right."

She turned to see George as he made a move to sit next to her.

"I'm not judging. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"George, I-I don't want to talk."

"Well, you don't have to, just listen. I know that you loved Ron. And I know that you miss him, even if I'm sure that it never would-never mind not the time or place. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to go through it alone. I'll be there, if you like."

She looked at him, her heart breaking a little at the green eyes surrounded by freckles and framed with red hair. Their faces differed enough, but all she could see were the similarities.

"Is it his?"

She shook her head. It was all she was really capable of doing.

"Do you know who is?"

She could have been insulted by the question if it hadn't been asked after a war or with the gentle tone. She shook her head again.

"Well, you could tell everyone that it's mine," he said with a half-smile. "It was a torrid affair and I was the one insiting and pushing and you felt ever so guilty because honestly you just loved Ron."

Hermione chuckled a little at the thought. The first time she'd really smiled or laughed in the month since the battle had ended and she had buried her best friend.

"No, George. It's more complicated than that."

"Well, you can talk to me about it if you wish."

"I'm talking to a therapist."

"Well, still. I know everyone here won't really try to understand how you actually feel. They'll just assume they know how you feel, though of course only because they love you."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't live in the wizarding world," she mused. "I would have choices. Not that I would necessarily use those options, but I would still have the choices. But here, in the wizarding world, I have one option really. I have no say in the matter. What's worse, is that they'll force me to get married once word is out. The Wizengmont loves to get involved where it doesn't belong."

"Well, If nothing else, I'd marry you. Just to protect you from someone else."

"Thanks, George. But I am not looking to replace Ron. And I'm not looking to get married just to get married. I don't even want a relationship right now."

"I get that Hermione. I was just saying. The ministry can be cruel. If he's not charged, or if he's set free, they could make you marry whoever it is behind your current situation. I don't want to be a replacement. I was offering as a friend."

"I'd hate to see you give up your chance at real love to be a good friend, George. I appreciate the offer, I do. I just, don't want to have to think about that yet. I haven't even officially had it confirmed. And I know that even when I do, St. Mungo's can't release any information. I would be safe until I give birth. I just, I had a plan, and this changes everything. I won't be able to go back to school like I had planned. Finding a job will be impossible until after. And I will not be marrying Ron."

"Well, whatever happens, I'm here for you."

"Thank you, George."

They sat in silence, gazing at the stars above them.

Severus woke up, looking to the woman next to him. The dream he'd had felt more like a memory in a pensieve. Was she dreaming about her past? It seemed like given her hand rested on her stomach. Given the way she had been in the dream/memory, it seemed likely that she was reliving it.

He placed his hand over hers, entwining his fingers with hers and fell asleep once more.