Chapter 3

The smell of the cooked meat was strong. Too strong for Hermione's fragile stomach to currently handle.

Once, she enjoyed Harry's cooking. Somehow, he'd learned how to do it in his early adulthood, serving up delicious meals for his friends at least once a month. There was so much flavour, so much deliciousness in everything.

But now… all Hermione could do was stare at the food, its scent a danger to her as she ran off to the bathroom for the third time that night.

Morning sickness, she scoffed, turning her head away from the meal. The term made her laugh. In the mornings, she was actually okay. It was the late afternoon and the evenings that had her with her head in the toilet and bringing up everything she'd eaten that day.

Maybe she should have just stayed home and made herself something… that wasn't meat.

"Hermione…" Ron looked at her, concern evident in his eyes. "You don't look so good. You alright?"

She did her best to not snap at him, something that she'd done a lot of recently. She wasn't upset with him, just the whole predicament, and unfortunately for him, he was well and truly involved. She'd not told him after she'd gone to the joke shop, when she'd intended to. He was so happy, so relaxed about where his life was right now that she hadn't had the heart to ruin it for him. He'd said he didn't want things to change between them and she'd just lost her resolve. If it was within her control, she didn't want things to change either.

Oh, how she wished that night had never happened. She knew for certain now that she had come to his place after the party for him. Something in the back of her mind even told her that she had all but said, "I want us to have sex right now." And then she'd thrown herself at him — all but jumped on him — and her drunk self had very much enjoyed the night. Ron had been right when he'd said last week: 'It was really good.'

But that didn't mean it had been smart. And if she could take it all back, she would in a heartbeat. She didn't want to be pregnant with Ron's baby.

Not like this.

The times she'd seen him in the week following her failed attempt at telling him had been uncomfortable. She did her best to try and be normal, but she couldn't. It was impossible to be when she knew something that would completely change his life, while he remained happily oblivious.

Her life was a complete mess. While Ron talked about how he and George planned on releasing their new range to the public in two weeks, while he worked over time to get it ready, she had barely made it into work all week, just too sick to get out of bed.

"Hermione?"

She glanced at him, startled. "I'm… fine," she managed to gasp, but opening her mouth was a mistake. Her chair screeched as she stood up again. "Excuse me." She dashed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she threw up again.

There was nothing left to bring up at this point, so she spent the majority of her time heaving and gasping over the toilet bowl. Her stomach turned with every breath she took, but nothing happened beyond that.

"Hermione?"

There was a gentle knock on the door and then it opened. Ginny stepped in. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"No," Hermione groaned. "I'm… terrible." She panted out the words, the effort too much for her now. She just wanted to lie down and rest her head against the cold tiles and go to sleep.

Ginny came to sit on the edge of the bath, watching Hermione with something that neither of the guys had expressed. Understanding.

Hermione closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against the cool shower wall.

"Ron's right. You don't look well at all."

Hermione didn't have the capacity to answer, instead shoving her head practically into the toilet and heaving once more. She felt a hand on her back, rubbing circles, and it was nice. Until now, she'd had no one. She'd told no one, she lived alone and she tried to hide it as best she could when she was at work. But just to have someone there comforting her was comforting within itself. She supposed that was what it was like for people who had babies when they were more prepared.

When there was absolutely nothing left for her to bring up, she sat back, head resting on the shower wall once more.

"I've never felt this bad before."

Ginny didn't say anything at the start. She sat back on the bath edge. Hermione could tell from the look on her friend's face that she at least suspected what was going on and she didn't think she had the ability to deny it if Ginny asked. It would be nice to tell someone.

"It gets better," Ginny said after a moment.

"When?" Hermione groaned. "It's only been a week and it feels as if it will never end."

It was enough acknowledgement for both of them. Nothing else needed to be said about it.

"I don't remember exactly when it eased when I had James, but it did eventually." She watched Hermione, obviously filled with questions that she didn't know how to ask.

Hermione breathed deeply, her stomach feeling mildly better now that she was away from Harry's food. "It's the smell of meat," she said after a moment, her voice a whisper. "I just… can't. As soon as I came to your house… it was too much for me."

Ginny nodded. "I understand. It was the same for me." Another pause. "Hermione, I really don't mean to pry and I know it's not my business, but… I didn't realise you were seeing someone."

"I'm not," Hermione said quickly. "I'm seeing no one. It was a once off, a… stupid mistake." She covered her mouth. "A stupid mistake with severe consequences."

Another wave of nausea hit her and she sat up, gripping the toilet seat.

"Do you mind if I ask… who?" Ginny inquired.

Hermione shook her head. "I'd rather not say. He doesn't know yet. I haven't told him. But we were both very drunk that night. It was at a party…"

"You don't mean Ron and George's party, do you?" Ginny's eyes widened.

Hermione nodded.

Ginny gasped. "But we… know everyone who was there!"

Hermione nodded again, saying nothing. If Ginny pried too much, Hermione would probably end up telling her what she could remember. And she didn't want that. Not until she'd told Ron.

"Most are friends…"

"I know," Hermione moaned, lifting her head to look at her friend. "It's been awful. We've kind of agreed not to talk about it, which is why it's so hard to tell... him. It really was just a huge, drunken mistake that I wish had never happened."

"No kidding," Ginny said. "I admit, I'm surprised that you did something like that."

"You and me both," Hermione answered. "I just can't bring myself to tell… him. He won't be happy about it."

"But… you'll have to, won't you?" Ginny pried "I mean, if it was someone at that party, then you're going to see them again…"

Hermione nodded for a third time, suddenly finding the strength to push herself up from the ground. Ginny gripped her arm, helping her.

"Are you going to go through with it?"

"Quite frankly, I have no idea what I'm going to do. This has been a big mess from the beginning. I don't even remember all the details, just little bits and pieces."

"Maybe the guy… maybe he'll surprise you?" Ginny offered. "He's one of the good ones, right?"

"One of the best," Hermione insisted, meaning it. "But I still don't think he'll take kindly to finding out he's going to be a dad." Ginny had guided her to the bathroom door and stopped just before opening.

"Listen," Hermione continued, "I think I might go home, if that's alright? I probably shouldn't have come. I feel so tired and I need to rest."

"Of course," Ginny said.

"And please, whatever you do, don't tell Harry and Ron," Hermione pleaded. "I'm not ready for either of them to know." She hadn't told Ginny the father's name, but if she said anything in front of Ron, Hermione had no doubt that Ron would eventually put it together. He needed to hear it from her first, not secondhand.

"I wasn't planning on it," Ginny assured her, extending a show of comfort by patting Hermione's arm. "Get some rest. And just know that we're here for you. When you tell the guy and if he's a jerk about it, you've got us. We'll get you through it, no matter what you decide."

Hermione nodded, grateful but also very nervous about how close Ginny was. She wondered if Ginny suspected that 'the guy' was Ron. If she did, she gave no indication. "Thank you. That... means a lot."

When she returned to the dining room, both Ron and Harry looked up with concern etched across their faces. She guessed she looked a complete mess — vomit in her hair, pale, clammy.

"I'm… going to go home," she said, not daring to meet Ron's eye. "I'll… see you around. Thanks for inviting me, Harry. Sorry I can't stay."

Ron stood up, which was not what she wanted. The last thing she wanted was to be around him right now. They'd made enough mistakes being alone together and her churning stomach was too big a reminder right now.

"Do you need me to take you home?" he asked.

"No," she said, her tone shorter than she intended. "I'm fine."

"You really don't look well —" Ron began.

"I said I'm fine."

Ron looked taken aback by her harsh tone, but he sat back down. Hermione left them after that without another word, desperate to get to her bed and just curl up and go to sleep. She hated this. She hated everything about it. But one thing she was now certain of — she couldn't do this alone, if she was going to do it at all. She needed her friends, and that meant Ron too.

…

Ron watched in silence as Hermione left, her words lingering in the room like a bullet wound. They had stung, because she had directed those words at him.

She was angry with him, or sickened by him, or maybe it was just too difficult for her to be around him. He'd pretended not to notice, but ever since they'd agreed to accept what had happened rather than ignore it, she'd been even more distant. Whenever they were around each other, she was sullen and moody. It wasn't the first time she'd snapped at him either. And on the odd occasion, he'd even seen a hint of fear in her eyes when she'd looked at him.

He still couldn't remember that night clearly, but it had him questioning: he hadn't forced her to do anything, had he? The very thought of hurting her sickened him, but he had been completely incapacitated and maybe in his drunken state, he'd done something he couldn't imagine doing while sober. Maybe she'd remembered and now feared him because of it.

The flashes told him that they'd both very much enjoyed that night, but perhaps his mind was blocking the rest for a reason.

It ate away at him over the past week, terrified that he'd done something to hurt her. He'd done everything he could to get himself to remember but he just couldn't.

"She okay?"

Harry's voice snapped Ron from his thoughts. He looked back at the table just in time to see Ginny nod. "Ate something bad last night that's catching up with her now. She'll be fine."

That seemed to satisfy Harry, for he returned to his meal, but it wasn't enough for Ron. Maybe because he knew more than they both did.

Setting his knife and fork down, he looked at the pair. He had to tell someone and who better than his best friend and his own sister?

"I think it's me," he said.

"Not everything's about you," Ginny said sharply.

"No," Ron said, "but things between us have been very… awkward lately." He grimaced at the word. He hated that it was awkward.

Harry frowned. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Not exactly." Ron sighed. "Listen, I'm about to tell you something and you have to swear you won't tell Hermione that I told you. She'd murder me."

Harry's frown deepened, but Ron noticed Ginny watching him with curiosity.

"So, a few weeks back, at our party… you know how we were all completely out of it?"

"Yeah," Harry recalled. "Fun night."

"Yeah, well, after you all left, Hermione came back to my place, and that part's still a little hazy, but whatever took place resulted in us… kind of… spending the night together."

"You mean, like in a completely platonic way, right?" Harry asked, probably for the sake of asking it.

"No. We had sex."

"What?" Harry balked, but it was the clatter of Ginny's cutlery against her plate that caught Ron's attention. She was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"We were both completely wasted on those shots, and quite frankly, I don't remember how it happened. I just know that it did. But… yeah… we kind of fucked up and it's been really awkward ever since. As you'd expect."

"It was you?" Ginny whispered.

Ron looked at her with furrowed brows. "What? Yeah… I just said… wait… she told you, didn't she? You already knew."

"She didn't give me a name," Ginny said, and she sounded disturbed by the whole thing. "She just said that it was someone at the party… Merlin, Ron, you need to talk to her."

"We have talked," Ron insisted. "I thought we were good. But… I don't think she's doing well. She was really bothered by it. More so as time goes on."

"Can you blame her?" Harry reasoned. "I mean… you're not supposed to be in that situation with your friend."

Ron nodded. "I know. But I'm kind of worried about her. I just feel like she can't get past it. We were both weirded out by the whole thing afterwards, and with every little piece that comes back to me, it was a pretty intense night. I suppose that makes it even weirder… that we were both really into it. We liked it. At least in the moment."

"Ron, please talk to her," Ginny said softly, not meeting Ron's eyes.

"I said I already —"

"No, I mean talk again. Now."

"Why?" Ron demanded. "It's none of your business. We're dealing with it, alright? I just thought you should know, because it probably explains why she left. Don't take it personally."

"Ron," Ginny urged. "Go and talk to her now. I think it's really important that you do."

"Why?" Ron asked again. "Do you know something I don't?"

Ginny said nothing, which was enough of an answer for Ron.

"What?" he asked. "What is it? What did she tell you?"

"Just go," Ginny said quietly.

Ron didn't move for a long while, trying to wrack his mind for some extra piece to the puzzle that Ginny knew and he didn't. Did Hermione remember everything? Had she told Ginny in detail what had happened? She'd followed Hermione into the bathroom and they'd obviously talked while Hermione was sick, and —

Dread filled the very pit of his stomach. He clambered to his feet, the table and dishes shaking at the force.

"What the —" Harry began, steadying everything.

Ginny wasn't watching him, but he didn't want to see the confirmation in her eyes anyway. He felt sick at the very thought, but it was all starting to fall into place now. Hermione's paleness, her coming to see him last week, sounding desperate to tell him something, but then pulling out at the last minute. And tonight, her being sick and refusing to look at him.

"Go," was all Ginny said, and Ron obeyed. He Disapparated where he stood, landing on Hermione's doorstep. For a long while, he simply stood out the front, trying to steel himself.

Ginny was wrong. She had to be. But Hermione had told her… and she had specifically said it had been the night of the party…

"No, no, no," he muttered, pacing backwards and forwards. How could he have been so fucking stupid? He knew that she had come to him, she had thrown herself at him, and he hadn't questioned it. He'd been delighted, in fact. Neither of them, not once, had even questioned whether contraceptive charms were in place. It hadn't even occurred to him to do it, as excited as he was to finally have the woman that he'd loved for so long in his arms.

"You fucking idiot!" He slammed his fist against the door.

And that lapse in concentration had now resulted in…

Idiot. Fucking idiot.

The door opened, and Hermione stood before him, dressed in her pyjamas and wrapped in a dressing gown. She had looked better and Ron couldn't help but realise that perhaps he was to blame for that.

Oh Merlin…

"Ron, what are you doing here?" Tears ran down her cheeks, her whole body trembling in front of him. In any other situation, he would have taken her into his arms and hugged her. But tonight he just stood there.

"I told Harry and Ginny what happened," he admitted.

Hermione paled. "You… what? Ginny… knows?"

"I told them. And then Ginny said I had to come to talk to you —" if possible, she grew even paler. "Tell me," Ron whispered. "Please just tell me if it's true. I need to know."

Hermione stood in her doorway, staring up at him. Her lower lip trembled and tears sprung to her eyes. Then, she stepped aside and let him in.

"Ron," she said weakly, hugging her arms around her body, "we really messed up."

I'm glad you're all enjoying this :D Thanks again to cheesy for the beta!