This is a sequel/prequel here. I've got one more part to this story, and I may or may not end up making it a kind of series of vignettes (sp?). Tell me what you think. This part isn't the best, but it's not bad, and it's kind of crucial if I do end up making it into a mini-series. No one in this story is mine except for Steve, who's only mentioned once anyway. They all belong to JKR. Happy Reading!

I'm twenty-five years old, and to think, just twelve hours ago I thought that was old. I felt old and weary, like I had been through so much I was as elderly as Dumbledore. It's funny the difference a day makes. Because now, though I'm one day older, I feel as though I'm a small child, and I don't know where to turn.

I'm twenty-five years old, and three months pregnant, and more confused than I've ever been. I'm supposed to be Hermione, the one with the answers, but all I can do is lay here and cry. Harry is dead. My husband, who, when he was beside me, made me feel like everything was possible. Ron and Sirius are gone with him. All victims of a Death Eater ambush. There aren't supposed to be any more Death Eaters. We were a team in the network that killed him over a year ago. Harry and I thought we were safe, thought we could begin to build our life together. We were wrong. Remus and I survived. Only because we were working on a new spell, and were late getting to Sirius' for dinner. The Death Eaters were there when we arrived. We tried to help, but there were five of them. Ron was dead when we got there, with three Death Eaters on the floor beside him. Sirius was injured, and trying to block Harry from the remaining men. We did the best we could, and all of the Death Eaters were dead when it was over, but so were Sirius and Harry.

I laid down next to Harry when it was all over. The blood from his head dried and matted in my hair, but I didn't move. Remus must have owled the Ministry, because soon aurors began to show up. Friends of mine, most of them, but I remained where I was until Remus picked me up. He managed to apparate us both to the small house I shared with Harry in Hogsmeade, and he put me to bed.

I am still here, laying in the dark, crying. Remus is sitting in the chair, his head is buried in his hands. I know both of us are thinking that we should have been there. We should have done something. If we'd been there, we would be dead as well, and I'm not sure which is preferable. I don't want to live without Harry, but I don't want my child to die. Death Eaters made the decision for me.

There are no more, at least. The eight killed last night were the last known Death Eaters outside of Azkaban. At least I don't have to worry about my baby.

My eyes are scratchy, and the first rays of sun coming through the blue curtained window burn. A new day is starting, and Harry isn't here to see it. Neither are Ron or Sirius. Three of my best friends, gone. And the sun still dares to shine. I pull the soft blanket over my head, and slide further down into the bed. It still smells like Harry under here. I can pretend he's just gone to get us coffee, and that he's coming back.

I hear footsteps, and for a moment I pray that my fantasy is true, but it's not. Remus pulls the quilt down to my neck, and places a cold hand on my forehead. "Come on Herm. You have to get up. There are things we need to do." I know he's right, but I don't want to face the day, and I struggle to pull the covers back over my head. He doesn't let me, and reluctantly I get up from the bed. He puts a hand on my shoulder and leads me into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I don't look in the mirror, just splash water on my face and brush my teeth. Then I turn the shower on warm, and pull off my nightgown and step in. I let the water fall over me, and for a few minutes I just stand and breath in the steam. Then I scrub the blood from my hands, and use Harry's shampoo to wash the hardened red-brown substance from where it has dried in my hair.

When I'm done, I pull on my old, comfortable robes, and pull my hair back with an elastic band. I go out and find Remus in the kitchen. He's changed clothes, and is just sitting there at the table. "We'll apparate to the Weasley's, I just spoke to Penelope." He takes my hand, "You'll get through this." I nod my head, and with a flip of our wands, we're at the Burrow.

Ginny sees us first, when we come in, and she rushes over to us and wraps her arms around me. There are tears running down her cheeks. Then Molly come over, she's not crying, but her eyes are puffy. She lays her hand on my stomach, which is still flat, "Poor lamb." Then she, too, hugs me.

Sandwiched between Remus and Molly, with Ginny on Molly's other side, we walk to the living room. Here the entire Weasley family is gathered, along with spouses. I don't know where the children are. Minerva is here too, because she took over the task force three years ago, and we were her agents.

I sit on a love seat with Remus, his arm around me, his hand rhythmically rubbing my arm, in a motion that is supposed to be soothing. I don't pay much attention, but they're talking about the funeral, songs and readings, and gravesites. "Full honor, of course," I hear Minerva say. But nothing she says will bring them back.

They finish, and Steve, he is here with George, comes over. He says he's made a lot of food in the kitchen, and shouldn't I eat? I don't want to move, but Remus pulls me up, and he thanks Steve, and then we go to the kitchen where I spoon scrambled eggs into a bowl, and eat.

The funeral will be tomorrow, per wizard tradition, and they'll be buried in Hogsmeade at a large cemetery near our house. The wizarding world is already in mourning for the Boy Who Lived, and his friends. No one cares about the Man Who I Loved, his godfather, or my red haired best friend.

We stay a few more hours, and I make small talk, though no one expects me too. I even hold some of the children, who know something is wrong, but aren't really sure what. Their uncle is dead.

Finally we go home. I think Minerva told Remus not to leave me alone, because he accompanies me to my house, and stays. He helps me make pasta for dinner, which we eat in silence. Then we wash the dishes, and split up the Daily Prophet.

I don't read anything about last night. Only the articles about food, and new research from the Greenwich Magical Research Lab, and about an explosion in Cornwall last week. By the time we're through with the paper it is only eight o'clock, but I say I'm tired, and stand up to leave the room. He stands up too, and gives me a hug. "I'll just be in the next room if you need me." He squeezes my hand. "We'll get through this."

I pull on pajamas, climb into bed, and promptly fall asleep. It's dark when I wake up again, and a glance at the clock tells me it is 2 a.m. I lay back and close my eyes, but I can't fall asleep. I get up and tie my robe around me, then walk to the kitchen to make myself some coacoa.

I pour milk into a saucepan, and turn around. Someone is sitting at the table, and I jump a bit before realizing it is Remus. "What are you-"

"I couldn't sleep. It seems you couldn't either."

I look at him in the kitchen light, and I know I'm not the only one who's lost something through this. There are dark circles under his eyes, stubble on his face, and he's been crying. Yet still he's been taking care of me. I'm glad, because I've needed him, but I've got to be strong again, because I can't rely on Remus to keep me standing, guiding me through each day. I make my decision, that beginning after the funeral I will no longer allow myself to be this helpless and pitiable pile of goo that I am.

I will take control of my life, and do what needs to be done for myself and the baby. I can mourn my husband and my friends, and still take care of myself. It's what they would want me to do, and what they would expect me to do. Ron used to say that muggles would play quidditch and I wouldn't even look up from my book.

He wasn't talking about anything amounting to what is happening now, but I still think he would expect this. I can be strong and still remember, and that's what I intend to do.

Remus looks at me questioningly, and I'm pulled from my thoughts. The look in his eyes makes me want to tell him my troubles, so I do. "Remus, how am I going to do this? How do I have this baby, and raise it, by myself?"

He makes me feel better, just as I knew he would. "You won't be doing it alone. Your parents will help, and the Weasley's, and I'm always here if you need me." He gets up and brings me a mug of coacoa. "You aren't alone."

We sit in silence for some time, and I finish my coacoa. "Thank you Remus," and I rinse out my mug and go to bed.

Now it is morning, and I'm dressed in black robes. We're walking down the street to the church, Remus' arm around me. we take seats in the front, and I half listen as the minister and Minerva speak. Running through my mind is something Dumbledore once said, that Harry passed on to me when the great man died three years ago. "To the well organized mind, death is just the next great adventure."

It helps to think that Harry is back with his parents, and Sirius with them. Although it still isn't enough. I lean on Remus as we walk to the graveyard behind the church, and as they're lowered to the ground. As we walk away though, I dry my eyes. Now is the time I will be strong.