*The first few lines of this chapter uses some (slightly adjusted) dialogue from the book, in full disclosure.
Chapter Two
"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled Greyback. Ron was nearly thrown off his feet as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around again, so that the light fell on Hermione instead.
"Wait," said Narcissa sharply. "Yes—yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl? And pregnant."
Ron held his breath, waiting on Draco to confirm the obvious. His stomach lurched, and he felt lightheaded.
Draco took one look at Hermione, glancing down at her obviously pregnant stomach for a split second before turning away. "I don't know, it could be anybody."
"But isn't that the Weasley boy? Arthur Weasley's son?" Lucius Malfoy shouted excitedly.
Draco turned to Ron, pretending to study his face closely. "I don't think it's them. Granger wouldn't be so stupid as to get herself knocked up."
When they arrived on the beach outside Bill and Fleur's, Ron caught Hermione as she fainted. There was bright red blood seeping through her sweater, and dripping down her front.
Luna gasped. "Is she alright?"
"Of course, she's not alright," Ron yelled. "Run to the cottage and bring Bill and Fleur, tell them you're Ron's friend."
Ron lay Hermione down on the sand and lifted her shirt up. In scrawling bright letters formed from scratches, Bellatrix Lestrange had carved out the word "Mudblood" across her abdomen. The cuts were not terribly deep. Most of the letters looked like they had stopped bleeding on their own.
Ron had been prepared for something much worse and he exhaled in a slight relief. They would be okay.
That night he found himself on the other side of Hermione's bedroom door. He had raised his fist to knock but had stopped himself. He didn't want to intrude. But the risk of being absent weighed too heavily on his mind.
He knocked.
"Come in." Her voice was weak.
She was lying in the bed on her side, knees bent. Her hair was still wet. Fleur had given her some dresses that made do as maternity clothing, and she was wearing one of them now, a light pink dress made from stretchy material that fit snugly.
The room was painted a calming light yellow and accented with a striped comforter on the bed and abstract looking photos hung on the walls.
"I wanted to check on you," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Both of you."
Hermione nodded. She moved her wand to the nightstand and patted the space on the bed where it had laid.
He scooted over and allowed himself to lie down next to her. They hadn't been this physically close in months. Ron noticed the little spots of black in her eyes and the way stray hairs curled at her temples. He kissed her forehead, running her hands through her hair, still damp from her shower. Her skin felt cold against his lips and he pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed over her shoulders.
He wanted to do more, but she was too weak, too exhausted, and he didn't want to add any more confusion to that. They could sort all of that out later, on a day where they didn't have a run-in with death.
He hesitantly placed his hand on the side of her stomach, where he had first felt an elbow. There was nothing protruding now. His heart rate sped up as he ran his hand over her stomach, feeling nothing at all.
"Have you felt any movement since today?"
She shook her head. She bit her lip and he could tell she was trying not to cry. "Draco was right. We were idiots."
Ron nodded. "But not really. People have children in the middle of wars every day."
Hermione snorted. "That's bad logic."
"I just mean, life has to go on." He lowered his voice. "Look at Harry's parents, they went into hiding right after they had him."
"And they're dead." She placed her hand over her stomach. "Harry grew up an orphan."
Ron relented. "Okay, so we were idiots. What are we going to do about it now?"
"I really want to risk going to the doctor. A Muggle one. Just me and you."
Ron nodded. Given the lack of movement and the huge amount of trauma she had been to, it was worth the risk. Not to mention she was probably malnourished and in need of vitamins.
"We'll go tomorrow."