Holy moly guacamole! I am so excited to finally release this chapter! Honestly, it has probably been the one that I was most excited to write since I very first outlined this story! That being said, it has also been the one that's given me hell and was so difficult to put together in the way I wanted. I've been working on it for over two weeks now, off and on, and ughhh. I can only hope I did it well enough the way I envision it in my head.
A million thanks as always to Array, BGP, & Cheesy for what they do to this fic!
This chapter comes with trigger warnings for thoughts of anxiety that have to do with miscarriage and infant loss.
oOo
It surprised Hermione how quickly she got used to living life in a completely different way than she'd been raised. No longer was she woken up in the mornings to be told about her plans for the day— instead, she could wake up on her own terms, her schedule completely up to her.
There was no maid coming in to do her hair or help her get dressed, and small everyday tasks were left for her to do on her own, the independence only making her feel more confident she'd made the right decision to leave everything behind. Where her dresses used to be lavish and expensive, now they were simple and plain, Hermione vowing she would never again wear a corset. While all of this took some adjustment, Hermione was steadfast to fill her new role and did not at all regret escaping the clutches of her mother and her would-have-been husband.
Even though Hermione was free for the first time, being without Ron was difficult, thoughts of him constantly on her mind. Without him, there was an enormous hole in her life— both from where he had been, and from where he would be if he were still alive.
With grief leaving her weak and anxious, Harry became Hermione's rock in her darkest moments, and they grew exponentially closer every day. Now that she knew him, she couldn't imagine being without him ever again, and was sure that he felt the same.
Along with Harry, Hermione had also warmed up to Sirius very quickly, as he had to her. Being alone for so long, Harry's godfather was overjoyed to have them living with him— a thought he voiced regularly. The moment Sirius had found Harry and Hermione at his door, he had integrated them as family, opening his home to them and letting them know they could make it their own for however long they wished.
Sirius and Harry had, of course, bonded straight away, both men ecstatic that they were finally together after all this time. Even from a far distance, Sirius had never stopped looking for Harry, frequently corresponding with the foster system in London and trying to get a lead on where his godson might be. Five years ago, he had finally had a breakthrough and got ahold of Harry's case number, but by the time he'd tracked Harry's home down, he and Ron had already run away, leaving the trail cold. Sirius had never given up hope that Harry would find him, however, and was quick to express his disbelief and happiness that he had, promising to make up for lost time.
Sirius ran a local newspaper publishing company from his home and spent his days editing the paper to make sure everything was perfect before being printed and sent out early each weekday morning. There were several other employees who came and went throughout the day, an entire section of the large house dedicated to the flourishing business. The machines were running constantly, the loud sound quickly growing normal for Hermione and Harry, even helping them get to sleep at night.
With all of his focus on the business, Sirius had never married or had children of his own, so when Harry came into the picture, Sirius was quick to teach him everything he knew, letting Harry know he would be leaving the company to him one day if he wanted it. Harry was eager, throwing himself into learning everything there was to know, wanting to prove he was capable. Hermione knew he had a deep desire to impress his godfather, even though there really was no need— Sirius had adored Harry since he'd been born.
Because of the paper, Sirius had little time for housework or meal prepping, so he paid a kind woman named Pomona to come to the house every few days to do simple household chores and cook meals for him. She was the closest thing he'd had to family in a long time, having worked for him for over fifteen years. Once Hermione and Harry arrived, Pomona was more than happy to help teach Hermione simple household chores such as laundry, cooking, and cleaning— Hermione intent on pulling her own weight. Despite Sirius' protests that it was unnecessary, she was insistent, and soon was able to do everything around the house on the days that Pomona wasn't there, even finding out that she had a knack for gardening.
While most of her motivation for wanting to learn was so she wouldn't be rendered useless, Hermione was also desperately seeking anything and everything to occupy her mind. Some days were harder than others, and it was all she could manage just to pull herself out of her deep well of grief enough to even crawl out of bed. When that happened, part of her wanted to give up, but she refused to do so. She knew Ron would want her to keep going, would want her to overcome any obstacle— even one as awful as losing him. So, with that thought in mind, Hermione pushed on, taking things day by day and step by step, keeping her focus on what needed to be done.
But nights were different.
Whenever she lay in bed with nothing to do but think, her heartbreak would consume her and she would repeatedly re-live the events that had happened on the ship — the good and the bad. She and Harry shared a bed, and he would hold her and tell her stories to quiet her mind— mostly stories about Ron and all the things they had done together before Hermione had known them. Once Hermione finally got to sleep though, nightmares of Ron's death plagued her and she would wake up to Harry jostling her awake before reassuring her it was only a dream.
The problem though was that they weren't just dreams. Ron really was gone, and that was Hermione's reality, no matter how much she didn't want it.
oOo
A little over two months after arriving, Hermione was setting the table for dinner and let out a sigh as she carried the steaming bowls of soup and set them down next to the silverware. Cooking had been the hardest of all for her to conquer, but she was determined to get it right and was slowly but surely improving. She was pretty certain that she'd added too much salt, but so far this was the best dinner she'd made, and it was all thanks to Pomona who had left clear cut directions, thus making the meal an easy one.
"I'm starving," Harry exclaimed as he strolled into the kitchen, Sirius on his heel. "What's for dinner tonight, Hermione?"
"Vegetable soup. Made with ingredients harvested from the garden," she answered with a smile.
Sirius beamed as he took his seat. "You really are a gem, Hermione. I've never had much of a green thumb, myself. Every time I tried gardening in the past, I got measly outcomes at best. Did you ever garden before you got here?"
Hermione shook her head as she too sat down. "Oh, no. I wasn't allowed to get my hands dirty. My mother would have fainted if she were to lay eyes on me kneeling in the dirt."
"Not allowed to get your hands dirty?" Harry asked. "Even as a kid?'
Hermione shook her head. "Especially not as a kid."
"So what did you do for fun, then?" Sirius asked as he swallowed a spoonful of his soup.
"On the ship Ron told me you write?" Harry interjected as he eyed her.
"I— a little bit, yes." Hermione admitted. "But I haven't felt like writing since…" she trailed off, knowing neither of the men needed further explanation.
Sirius cleared his throat. "What kind of stuff did you write?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.
"Mainly poems and short stories. I had ideas for several novels, but only in my head."
"Hmm," Sirius hummed as if in deep thought. "Would you be opposed to me publishing a poem or two in the paper? I might be interested in starting a small column— see where it goes. If I did, you could write again, and I would pay you, of course." Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock as he went on. "I've actually been looking for something new and exciting to add— something to keep the readers inspired, you know?"
"Are you- are you serious?" Hermione balked, astounded that he would even contemplate the idea, much less offer it without even having seen any of her writing.
Sirius winked. "Why yes, I am Sirius!" They all had a good laugh at that before he continued. "But I am also serious, Hermione. It would be an honor to have your work in my newspaper."
Hermione's eyes watered. "I can't— I can't express to you how grateful I am." She turned to Harry and took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. "To both of you. You have been so patient and kind to me, taking me under your wings like you have." She sniffed as she wiped her eyes.
"I think I can speak for the two of us—" Harry eyed Sirius, who nodded in confirmation. "We are glad you are here, Hermione."
"I'm glad I'm here too. I really am."
The three smiled at each other before returning to their soup, Sirius and Harry now discussing tomorrow's schedule. Hermione pushed the spoon around her bowl, finding that she didn't have much of an appetite. It wasn't unusual for this to happen lately, and she figured it was just a repercussion from everything that she'd been through.
"I think I'm going to get to bed early tonight," she announced as she rose from the table, all of a sudden feeling sick.
Harry glanced at her bowl. "But you've hardly eaten anything!"
"I ate while I was cooking," she lied, not wanting to concern him.
"Oh. Alright then," Harry said as he gave her a smile. "We've still got a lot to do, so we'll be up for a while. Holler if you need anything."
Hermione nodded before retreating upstairs, where she crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.
oOo
The next morning, Hermione felt even worse. Figuring she'd caught some kind of bug, she tried to ignore the feeling of nausea as she forced herself out of bed to start breakfast, even though just the thought of food was enough to churn her stomach. When she made it downstairs, she heard Harry and Sirius already in the office, so she started pulling out the stuff she needed, opting for a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon.
As she cooked, Hermione forced herself to think about anything other than the smell of the food, deciding to head back to her room to lie down for a bit as soon as she finished. The smell drove the men into the kitchen, and Hermione forced a smile their way as they walked in, their noses in the air as they took in the aroma.
"Smells delicious, Hermione," Harry said as he passed her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Indeed," added Sirius as he also kissed her cheek. "Absolutely divine."
"Practice makes perfect," she replied in a weak voice, still fighting the urge to cover her nose and run from the room.
Once the food was ready, the men started to make their plates, Hermione trying to make her way out without being noticed.
"Are you eating, Hermione?" Harry asked, causing Hermione to freeze, closing her eyes in defeat as she turned around to face the table.
"No. I'm not hungry," she managed to say.
"You really should eat," Sirius pressed, putting a few eggs on a plate for her and setting it down on the table. "You've lost weight."
Harry's eyes roamed over her, now looking worried. "It's true. You have."
"I just don't have an appetite, that's all," Hermione explained, hoping that they would stop fretting over her. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden.
"A few bites?" Harry urged, patting the chair next to him.
Hermione gulped before walking over and sitting down next to Harry. Wordlessly, she took a forkful of eggs, forcing the bite down even though she wanted to spit it out. Unable to take anymore, she dropped her fork.
"I think I'm going to go lie down," she said in a quiet voice, trying to ignore the concerned looks she was getting. When she stood up, however, she felt dizzy, black spots popping up in her vision as she started to sway.
"Woah!" she heard Harry call out before feeling his arms wrap around her body. "Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, his voice panicked.
The blood rushed back into Hermione's head and she nodded, now embarrassed.
"I'm going to walk her up," Harry told Sirius before leading her away.
"Really, Harry, that's unnecessary," she tried in a feeble attempt to pacify him, but he ignored her as he continued to lead her upstairs, his arm around her waist.
When they made it to her room, Harry helped her crawl onto her bed, and Hermione sighed, grateful to be out of the kitchen and off of her feet. Instead of Harry leaving the room as she had expected, though, he stood there staring down at her— his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"Hermione?" he finally asked, his voice hesitant.
"I'm fine, Harry. Really, I am. I just—"
"I need to ask you something," he interrupted. "I don't mean to pry, but I was—" he stopped, and let out a sigh. "I'm not sure how to ask this."
Hermione sat up some. "Ask what, Harry?"
"Hermione, did you and Ron—" he paused, wincing as if in discomfort. "Or even—even Draco…" he trailed off.
"Harry, I don't—"
"Is there any chance that you could be pregnant?" he blurted out.
Hermione froze, the question taking her completely by surprise. With everything— from Ron's death, to escaping Draco, to adjusting to living with Sirius— the thought of pregnancy had never occurred to her. But even so, the moment Harry had voiced it, she was positive she was.
Her mind went somewhere else for a moment, and she checked the sure-fire symptoms off. She hadn't had her period since before she got onto the ship, and the nausea and exhaustion suddenly made sense.
Her hand traveled to her lower belly as her eyes filled with tears. She looked up at Harry and gave him a small nod. "Ron," she whispered.
Harry let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Right. This is..." He sat down on the bed, looking as if he were almost as shocked as she currently was.
Never had a single piece of information made Hermione feel so conflicted. On one hand, it was the best thing that could happen to her. She couldn't have Ron, but she could have this. Hermione could have something that they had made together, someone to love, someone who was half her and half Ron.
On the other hand, how could she do this without Ron? She was barely strong enough to take care of herself— how was she supposed to take care of another?
And even more importantly, what if something were to go wrong? How would she cope then? An overwhelming fear enveloped her, and her hands went up to her face and she started to sob, all of the emotions hitting her at once.
All Hermione could see in her mind was Ron's smiling face gazing down at her with so much love, and the sincerity in his voice as he promised to be with and take care of her. Then she remembered how fast he'd been ripped away, and how her whole life had changed in an instant.
Harry pulled her to him, making soothing noises as he rubbed circles on her back. "Hermione, this is okay. I'm here for you, you're not alone in this."
oOo
After writing for hours, Hermione stood up from her desk, her hand on her very small, just starting to protrude bump. She was now a little over four months pregnant, and despite her doubts, everything was progressing as it should. The town's doctor, Dr. Lovett, had seen her several times so far, and even though he urged her to try to put on more weight, he was optimistic that everything was going to be fine.
She and Harry had explained everything to the doctor, telling him all about Ron and what had happened. Because she was still very much grieving, and now had extreme anxiety about the pregnancy, Dr. Lovett urged her to take it easy and let up a little on the things that she'd been doing before— which in Hermione's opinion only made her feel even more anxious. Recently, she'd been spending most of her free time writing poems and short stories for the paper, the success of the column giving her a small amount of gratification. She'd also started to write children's stories, although that had been more out of hope than anything, and she hadn't shown them to anyone.
Both Harry and Sirius seemed to be ecstatic at the prospect of having a child around, and were constantly talking names and nursery ideas. At their urging, Hermione finally settled on Rowan for a boy, and Rose for a girl— wanting the baby's name to be similar to Ron's. Mealtime talks were all about the baby and what he or she would be like or look like, and what their personality would be. During these conversations, Hermione played along and tried to be enthusiastic, but the truth was, she felt it was too soon to celebrate just yet.
It wasn't as if Hermione wasn't happy at the thought of having this baby, but there was a part of her that still believed that it wouldn't happen. Along with the same nightmares of losing Ron, she now had recurring nightmares of her or the baby dying before he or she was even born. As time went on, the feeling only got worse, and she often voiced her doubts to Harry, who tried to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. He repeatedly told her that she and the baby would be okay, and that the child would have an overabundance of love and happiness.
Despite everyone's reassurances though, Hermione still could not shake the dark feeling, even if she knew it subconsciously stemmed from her losing Ron so suddenly as she had, and it terrified her.
Hermione made it all the way downstairs, and as soon as she stepped foot into the kitchen, Harry came out of the office, a nervous look on his face. "Hey," he greeted as he motioned for her to take a seat at the table.
Eyeing him, she sat down, knowing by his expression that he had something important to tell her.
"There are a couple things we need to talk about," he stated, and Hermione nodded, wordlessly urging him to go on. Harry took a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy and his father were murdered late last night."
The words didn't hit her at first, and Hermione blinked at him for several long seconds before they sank in.
"What?"
"Yeah. Dirty business, apparently. They were thrown overboard their yacht. It's going to be all over the papers tomorrow, but I figured it was right to let you know beforehand."
Hermione stood up, tears stinging her eyes. Her hand went to her middle as she turned and took a few steps towards the window, her breathing heavy.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked in a concerned voice, not having moved from his seat.
Hermione turned back around to face him. "He deserved it," she whispered. "He deserved to die the same way Ron did." She sniffed, looking down at her hand, feeling relieved. "I'm happy that he's dead. A man died— and I'm happy. What kind of person does that make me, Harry?"
Harry stood up and took her free hand. "It makes you human, Hermione. That man was evil. He took Ron from you— from us. Honestly, he deserved something more gruesome than what he got. The world is a better place without him."
Nodding her head, Hermione gave his hand a squeeze before walking back over to the table and sitting down again, her energy already depleted by the news she'd just heard. "What else did you want to talk about?"
Harry walked over and took the chair next to her. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I know you don't leave the house much, but still— people are going to talk."
Hermione again looked down at her belly and nodded. "I know."
"I think we should get married," Harry said in a quick breath. "I know I could never replace Ron, but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be there for you and this baby, Hermione. I don't want anyone thinking badly of you, and not only that, the little one will need a father figure and I'll—"
"I can easily print a fake marriage certificate," Sirius piped up as he strolled into the kitchen having heard the conversation taking place. "No need to go through with an actual marriage. This way you'll have it on paper and no one should question anything."
Harry looked pleased by his godfather's idea and agreed.
Hermione's eyes watered again. "I can't let you do that for me, Harry. That's way too much."
He shook his head. "Hermione, I'll do anything for you and your baby. Besides, like Sirius said, it doesn't have to be real." He paused as Hermione again shook her head. "Hermione, please let me do this for you."
Biting her lip, Hermione finally relented.
oOo
She was running down a long, seemingly unending corridor of the ship, her eyes scanning the open doors of the rooms for a flash of ginger hair. After what felt like forever, Hermione skidded to a stop, seeing Ron standing alone in the middle of one of the rooms, his back to her.
"Ron!" she cried, running towards him.
He turned around to face her, an enormous smile on his face. Opening his arms, Hermione ran into them, clinging onto him for dear life, her body trembling.
"What's wrong?" Ron pressed, pulling her back just enough to study her face.
"You're alive! Ron, I thought you were dead!"
Ron cocked his head to the side, his expression confused. "No, love, I'm fine."
Hermione threw herself at him again, inhaling him as he held her close.
"I love you," she wept, still in disbelief.
"I love you too. So much."
After a moment, Hermione stepped back, taking Ron's hand and placing it on her protruding belly. She watched as his eyes widened, his other hand coming up to rest beside his first, but he said nothing.
"Is this okay?" she asked. "Do you want this?"
Ron nodded. "Of course I do, Hermione. I love you. And I love her, too."
"Her?"
He nodded again. "Yes."
Hermione couldn't help but stand up and press her lips to Ron's, tears falling down her face as she felt what she'd missed for so long. He tasted like love, and as Hermione closed her eyes, she was whole again. With Ron at her side, she felt as if she could do anything. She pressed her mouth harder against his, wanting to taste even more of him, when something changed.
All of a sudden, as if a flip had been switched, the incredible feeling from mere moments ago was gone, replaced by a sense that something was horribly wrong. When Hermione opened her eyes to find Ron, she saw Draco's cold eyes staring back at her and let out a scream.
Draco's face contorted in anger, and he roughly grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, shaking her before throwing her down, her body hitting the ground and causing a sharp pain to shoot right across her middle.
Hermione gasped as her eyes popped open. Although she instantly knew that it had just been another nightmare and hadn't been real— the pain she'd felt was very much real. Only seconds after opening her eyes, Hermione again experienced the same excruciating pain.
"Harry!" she shrieked.
Harry, who had been asleep next to her, immediately jolted up and switched the bedside lamp on, turning his body to ask what was going on. Without answering, Hermione reached down and pulled back the covers, letting out a loud, anguished cry at the sight of bright red blood all around her.
Harry jumped up, his face pale and panicked as he ran from the room, calling Sirius's name. Hermione curled into herself and sobbed, positive that her nightmares were coming true and that she'd lost her and Ron's baby.
Harry was back in under a minute, jumping onto the bed and cradling her head in his lap.
"Sirius is calling Dr. Lovett. Oh God, Hermione, what can I do?" he moaned.
"It's too early. There's too much blood," she cried.
"Only a few weeks early, Hermione," Harry said as he gathered her hair away from her face. "Dr. Lovett is on his way. Everything is going to be okay." Hermione knew by the sound of his voice that he was just as frightened as she was, and if she weren't so upset, she would have felt grateful for the effort.
She had several more contractions, Harry holding her as her body stiffened in pain, more blood appearing on the sheets. Dr. Lovett arrived in less than ten minutes, his expression somber as he rushed into the room and saw what was happening.
Harry helped move her into a position where the doctor could check her, and as soon as he did, he shot Harry a look.
"This baby is coming now," he told them, his face grave. "The sooner the better— the bleeding won't stop until it's out."
Hermione shook her head. "No. Not yet," she whimpered, in disbelief that this was happening so fast.
Harry gripped her hand harder in his. "Come on, Hermione— you can do this."
She arched her back as another contraction tore through her. "Please. Please. Please," she panted. Her body fought against the contraction, determined to keep her baby inside— at least that way there was a chance everything would be okay. Hermione couldn't have the baby now, and if she just tried hard enough, she could stop it from happening.
"Harry, I can't," she sobbed. "The baby is gone— I just know it."
"You can," Harry insisted, one of his hands still clenched tightly in hers, the other sweeping the sweaty curls off of her face. "And you don't know that, Hermione. Everything— everything is going to be okay," he tried to reassure her, but his voice broke as he said the words.
Hermione shook her head and wailed. Harry didn't get it. "It's not fair," she cried, Harry now looking quite terrified. "He should be here. I want Ron."
Harry's eyes filled up with tears, and he leaned down and placed his forehead to the side of her head.
"Hermione," he started. "I know Ron should be here— but he's not."
She started to shake her head, but Harry gently placed his free hand on her cheek and stopped her. "Listen to me," he demanded. Hermione bit her lip, but stayed still. Harry took a deep breath. "I wish Ron was here, too. Fuck, I would do anything for that to be the case. But Hermione, you have to stop fighting this. This is happening whether or not you want it to."
"Not without him," Hermione froze, another excruciating contraction ripping across her body. She tensed, her muscles aching with the effort. Harry held her, not flinching away as she screamed, waiting until it passed before he spoke again.
"This baby is Ron," he whispered into her face as she panted into his. "This baby is the piece of Ron that you can have here with you."
Hermione heard his words, but the fear was too great. She couldn't lose this baby like she had lost Ron.
"Stop fighting it." Harry leaned down and kissed her on the corner of the mouth. "You miss him. You want to see him. You will, Hermione. So much sooner than you can imagine."
Hermione stared into the green eyes that she loved, but wasn't in love with. He was right, and there was still a chance that everything would turn out okay.
"I want him to hold me," she moaned in a pathetic whimper.
Harry wiped a few tears from his face before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her, wrapping her in his arms. "Then pretend I'm him," he whispered. "Just for a second."
The next contraction was harder than the others, but this time, instead of writhing and trying to escape it, Hermione bore down, pushing with all of her might.
She felt a huge amount of pressure and a staggering amount of pain, and then she felt nothing at all, her head dropping to the bed as her eyes closed in exhaustion.
"It's a girl," she heard Harry say, his voice incredulous.
The room was silent, and after several seconds, Hermione managed to open her eyes and lift her head, her eyes going to Dr. Lovett, who had a bundle in his arms— a bundle that was much too small. He was rubbing and moving the baby as he muttered under his breath, his face intense.
Something was wrong.
"Why isn't she crying?" Hermione asked, panic overtaking her.
Dr. Lovett didn't answer, seeming not to hear her as he continued working on the baby. With tears in her eyes, Hermione turned to Harry, who looked as distressed as she felt.
"Why isn't she crying?" she asked again, her voice nearing hysteria.
A grimace on his face, Harry gave Hermione's shoulder a small squeeze. "She's really small, Hermione. Probably just needs some extra stimulation, that's all."
Hermione looked back at the baby to see nothing had changed, and just when her heart was about to shatter and she was about to give up all hope, there was a shrill cry in the room. Harry let out a loud breath of relief as Hermione cried right along with her daughter.
"She's fine," Dr. Lovett said, a smile now on his face. "Just took her a minute."
Hermione said nothing as he clipped and cut the now-white umbilical cord before placing the baby into her waiting arms. She could hardly tell that she was holding anything— the baby was so tiny— just like a doll.
"Why is she so small?" she asked, worried something was wrong.
"Well, she is a bit early. Also, the stress you experienced during the pregnancy can do that too. But even though she's on the smaller side, she appears to be perfectly healthy— although I will, of course, give her a full look over to make sure before I go."
The baby had stopped crying, but her color was now healthy and pink and she let out little whimpers every once in a while.
"She doesn't have Ron's hair," Hermione said, feeling disappointed.
Harry chuckled. "Hermione, she doesn't have any hair at all." He reached down to run his finger gently along the back of the infant's head. "Hi Rose. You're incredibly loved," he crooned.
The baby, whose eyes had previously been closed, opened them, blinking in the lamplight.
"Harry," Hermione said in a choked voice.
"I know," Harry said, his voice emotional as well. "I see."
Staring back up at them were eyes that Hermione hadn't seen in so long.
Ron's eyes.
oOo
Hermione woke up to a gentle nudge on her arm.
"Hey," Harry said when she opened her eyes. "She's hungry."
Hermione sat up in bed and took the wailing child from Harry's arms. She pulled down her nightgown and latched her daughter onto her breast, Harry not blinking an eye at the action. Rose was now three weeks old, and they had fallen into a routine. Harry would watch the baby while Hermione slept because she was still anxious about something happening to Rose.
Slowly but surely, Hermione was getting better and was having less fear and uncertainty when it came to her baby. With Rose had come a love Hermione hadn't known existed, and now everything she did, she did it with her daughter in mind. She smiled as she ran a finger down the side of the infant's face, delighted as always to see Ron's eyes blinking up at her.
"She's almost six pounds now," Harry said as he walked over to the other side of the bed and climbed in with a yawn. "I weighed her." He scooted close, also smiling down at the nursing infant. "She's been awake for almost three hours now, but didn't make a peep until a few minutes ago. We walked around the entire house, and I showed her a few knickknacks. She seems to enjoy looking at things."
Hermione laughed. "I'm glad you two had fun." She again ran her finger down Rose's cheek, the baby's eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep. "I wonder if I was a mostly content baby like she was? Or maybe she gets it from Ron?"
"I don't know. But let's hope she isn't like Ron when she's a teenager."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
Harry chuckled. "Ron was hell on wheels when I met him. Got himself in loads of trouble with that mouth of his."
She sighed. "I wish I knew him then. I would have given anything to have more time with him— I got so little of it."
"He was different with you, you know," Harry said in a soft voice. "He loved you so much, Hermione." His eyes again moved down to Rose. "I would give anything for him to be here right now. He should be the one next to you right now— not me."
Hermione's eyes watered. "You have been invaluable to me, Harry. I couldn't have done any of this without you."
"I'm trying to do my best. I just feel so damn guilty that I'm living the life that I know Ron wanted more than anything."
Hermione sniffed. "I wish I could see him with her. I wonder what he would think."
"Oh, he would have been crazy in love with her. I know that for a fact."
"I miss him."
"I do too. Every day."
oOo
Hermione woke to the sound of Harry using baby talk, and she smiled as she sat up and watched him finish dressing Rose for the day.
"Who's the cutest baby in the world? That's right! You are!"
"Is she ready to eat yet?" Hermione asked with a yawn.
Harry scooped Rose up into his arms. "Just about. She has that look." He walked over and handed the baby to Hermione. "She's been awake for a while, so she'll probably fall asleep soon. I already changed her, so she's good to go— just needs to eat."
"Thank you," she said as she started to feed Rose. "You go on. I'll be down soon."
With that, Harry walked out, closing the door behind him. Rose was just a little over four months old now, and Hermione was doing much better than she had been— her anxiety plaguing her less and less as she watched the infant thrive each day.
Still nursing Rose, Hermione stood up and started walking around the room while swaying her daughter, something that never failed to keep her asleep longer. After a while, and feeling like the baby was in a deep enough sleep, Hermione walked over to the crib and lowered her sleeping daughter down. Being as careful as possible, she ran her fingers over the soft ginger hair that was just coming in, stopping when she heard loud footsteps approaching.
She turned just in time to see Harry reach the open door frame. He leaned into it as if he were too exhausted to stand, and when her eyes travelled up to his face, her heart stopped. His eyes were red and swollen, and he seemed as if he were in some kind of shock.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Harry spoke before she could.
"Hermione," he said in a raspy voice. "You need to come downstairs. Right now."
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Ooook! Hope you enjoyed, and I'm sorry there's no reunion...yet ;)
I wanted to add a few things here at the end.
Seeing as this all takes place 1912-1913, I tried to keep it realistic regarding roles that they used to have. For example, Hermione wants to learn all she can about cooking and cleaning, because back then that's what most middle/lower-class women did. I hope that didn't come out as sexist because obviously women are just as capable as men and can do whatever the hell they want :)
Same thing when Harry asked Hermione to marry him. In those times, she would have been looked down on as being an 'unwed' mother, and Harry was just looking out for her.
I was happy to make Harry be just as much of a parent as Hermione is, even though that probably wasn't typical at the time. He's not Rose's dad, but he is all in because he loves her and I loved writing that!
Only one chapter left after this! Hopefully it won't be as much of a pain to write as this one was lol