A/N: Okay, this part is somewhat strange. I didn't think it was depressing,
I actually laughed while writing it, but some people have told me it is. I
dunno. Decide for yourself. Let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: No. I'm not going through this with you again. I don't own them. Deal with it.
The next eight months went by without much incident. Hermione was back to her normal bookish self, she had even started to work at the Ministry again. The birth didn't seem incredibly hard, but I wouldn't know. Hermione, Ron and I lived together, so that we could each take care of the baby, Lona, while the others were working. Ron was the manager for the Chudley Cannons, I was an Auror.
Poor Lona was only about a month old when the trouble started again.
I had just gotten home from work, it had been a hard day, and I was looking forward to taking care of Lona. The way that our house was set up, you first entered the kitchen through the front door. Then, the living room, then, the dining room. The stairs were down a little hallway past the dining room. I heard a female voice coming from upstairs, but it didn't sound like Hermione's. "Hello?" I called, wand out and ready. "Is anyone there?"
Footsteps running down the stairs, I got ready to stun anyone who came through the living room door. Suddenly, before I could do anything, a figure rammed into me and showered my face with kisses. "Harry! How was your day at work?"
"Gin! God! You scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing here, anyway? It's 'Mione's turn to be watching Lona."
Ginny quickly turned serious, "I came over to drop a few things off, and when I got here, 'Mione was sobbing over the baby and singing something. I told her to go to bed, and that I'd take care of Lona."
I paled, "Oh no, not again."
She looked inquisitively at me, "Harry, what's wrong? Has this happened before?" Ron was the only one that I'd ever told about Hermione's problem before Lona was born.
"Um. I don't know if something's wrong, Gin. But I'm here now, so you can go home."
Ginny looked as though I'd just told her I was leaving her for someone else. "Oh, well, I was actually thinking that we could maybe.. I dunno. do something tonight?"
I glanced sharply at her, "Ginny, I said go home."
Tears welled up in those beautiful brown eyes, "O-o-okay, Harry. Just let me get my purse from the dining room, and I'll be out of your way." I mutely watched her get her purse, come back, kiss me on the cheek, and whisper a soft, "Good-bye."
Once she left, I dashed upstairs to the nursery. Yet again, I heard that frightful song, "Hush a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleepy, little baby." This time, however, it was cut short by uncontrollable sobs. I found Hermione sitting all curled up in the rocking chair, Lona in her lap. She was crying like that sweet little child in her arms was dead.
"'Mione," I said gently, "Why don't you give me Lona? I'll make you some tea."
"No," she sniffed, "I don't want tea."
"Coffee? I can make you coffee?"
She smiled sadly at me, "All I wanted was a normal life. Lona, here, changed all that. But I can't blame her for it. She's such a beautiful little girl."
"Yeah, she is, but you're tired, and should go to sleep."
"Harry, you and Ron have been great fathers for Lona. You've been better as fathers than I've been as a mother." I tried to protest, but she shushed me, "No, it's true. You know it, too."
"No, 'Mione, you've been an amazing mother to her."
Hermione smiled wryly at me, "You have to say that, you're my best-friend. We both know the truth."
Panic began to grow inside me, "No, something's wrong. Hermione, I want you to go lie down, I'll take care of Lona for a while."
She smiled again, this time with a maniac gleam in her eyes, "But Harry, I'll be lying down for oh-so long, just let me hold my baby for a little while longer."
"'Mione, what's wrong? Why won't you tell me?"
Her eyes now filled with such a terrible pain, that it hurt me to look at her. "Harry?" she whispered, "Take care of her, will you?"
"Stop it, Hermione, you'll be here to take care of her yourself." The dread within me grew.
Hermione bent down and kissed the sleeping Lona on one of her eyelids, "Good-bye, my sweet. Who knows? We may even meet again," she sighed, "Someday." With that, she pulled out a knife, and stabbed herself in the heart. "Good-bye, Harry, I'll always love you," she choked, the life ebbing out of her.
Until now, I had been too transfixed by this passionate scene in front of me to move. "No!" I cried, as the one person who had always loved me, no matter what I did, died in front of me. I ran to her side, sobbing over the one who never told me she loved me, until her last moments of life. I watched as Hermione died, and only the sounds of Lona crying brought me back to life.
I silently picked up Lona, and brought her downstairs to give her some milk. I didn't even go upstairs until that evening, when Ron got home and saw my blood-splattered shirt.
Hermione's funeral was lovely, or so I'm told. Of course I went, but the sight of her coffin hypnotized me. Just the thought that my one true love was lying in it was enough to make me forget the sobbing Ginny on my arm, the stoic Ron at my side, but that thought was not enough to make me forget her child, lying in my arms.
I cared for Lona as though she was my own daughter. I never told Ron or Ginny why. They just assumed it was because Hermione had been my best- friend. They were wrong.
Disclaimer: No. I'm not going through this with you again. I don't own them. Deal with it.
The next eight months went by without much incident. Hermione was back to her normal bookish self, she had even started to work at the Ministry again. The birth didn't seem incredibly hard, but I wouldn't know. Hermione, Ron and I lived together, so that we could each take care of the baby, Lona, while the others were working. Ron was the manager for the Chudley Cannons, I was an Auror.
Poor Lona was only about a month old when the trouble started again.
I had just gotten home from work, it had been a hard day, and I was looking forward to taking care of Lona. The way that our house was set up, you first entered the kitchen through the front door. Then, the living room, then, the dining room. The stairs were down a little hallway past the dining room. I heard a female voice coming from upstairs, but it didn't sound like Hermione's. "Hello?" I called, wand out and ready. "Is anyone there?"
Footsteps running down the stairs, I got ready to stun anyone who came through the living room door. Suddenly, before I could do anything, a figure rammed into me and showered my face with kisses. "Harry! How was your day at work?"
"Gin! God! You scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing here, anyway? It's 'Mione's turn to be watching Lona."
Ginny quickly turned serious, "I came over to drop a few things off, and when I got here, 'Mione was sobbing over the baby and singing something. I told her to go to bed, and that I'd take care of Lona."
I paled, "Oh no, not again."
She looked inquisitively at me, "Harry, what's wrong? Has this happened before?" Ron was the only one that I'd ever told about Hermione's problem before Lona was born.
"Um. I don't know if something's wrong, Gin. But I'm here now, so you can go home."
Ginny looked as though I'd just told her I was leaving her for someone else. "Oh, well, I was actually thinking that we could maybe.. I dunno. do something tonight?"
I glanced sharply at her, "Ginny, I said go home."
Tears welled up in those beautiful brown eyes, "O-o-okay, Harry. Just let me get my purse from the dining room, and I'll be out of your way." I mutely watched her get her purse, come back, kiss me on the cheek, and whisper a soft, "Good-bye."
Once she left, I dashed upstairs to the nursery. Yet again, I heard that frightful song, "Hush a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleepy, little baby." This time, however, it was cut short by uncontrollable sobs. I found Hermione sitting all curled up in the rocking chair, Lona in her lap. She was crying like that sweet little child in her arms was dead.
"'Mione," I said gently, "Why don't you give me Lona? I'll make you some tea."
"No," she sniffed, "I don't want tea."
"Coffee? I can make you coffee?"
She smiled sadly at me, "All I wanted was a normal life. Lona, here, changed all that. But I can't blame her for it. She's such a beautiful little girl."
"Yeah, she is, but you're tired, and should go to sleep."
"Harry, you and Ron have been great fathers for Lona. You've been better as fathers than I've been as a mother." I tried to protest, but she shushed me, "No, it's true. You know it, too."
"No, 'Mione, you've been an amazing mother to her."
Hermione smiled wryly at me, "You have to say that, you're my best-friend. We both know the truth."
Panic began to grow inside me, "No, something's wrong. Hermione, I want you to go lie down, I'll take care of Lona for a while."
She smiled again, this time with a maniac gleam in her eyes, "But Harry, I'll be lying down for oh-so long, just let me hold my baby for a little while longer."
"'Mione, what's wrong? Why won't you tell me?"
Her eyes now filled with such a terrible pain, that it hurt me to look at her. "Harry?" she whispered, "Take care of her, will you?"
"Stop it, Hermione, you'll be here to take care of her yourself." The dread within me grew.
Hermione bent down and kissed the sleeping Lona on one of her eyelids, "Good-bye, my sweet. Who knows? We may even meet again," she sighed, "Someday." With that, she pulled out a knife, and stabbed herself in the heart. "Good-bye, Harry, I'll always love you," she choked, the life ebbing out of her.
Until now, I had been too transfixed by this passionate scene in front of me to move. "No!" I cried, as the one person who had always loved me, no matter what I did, died in front of me. I ran to her side, sobbing over the one who never told me she loved me, until her last moments of life. I watched as Hermione died, and only the sounds of Lona crying brought me back to life.
I silently picked up Lona, and brought her downstairs to give her some milk. I didn't even go upstairs until that evening, when Ron got home and saw my blood-splattered shirt.
Hermione's funeral was lovely, or so I'm told. Of course I went, but the sight of her coffin hypnotized me. Just the thought that my one true love was lying in it was enough to make me forget the sobbing Ginny on my arm, the stoic Ron at my side, but that thought was not enough to make me forget her child, lying in my arms.
I cared for Lona as though she was my own daughter. I never told Ron or Ginny why. They just assumed it was because Hermione had been my best- friend. They were wrong.
