The little girl listened to the story eagerly, but tiredly. When her breathing became light and regular, and she fell asleep in her grandmother's arms, the grandmother stopped. Carefully and steadily, the grandmother laid her on the bed.

            "Goodbye, sweet Hermione," the grandmother said.

            When the little girl woke up, her grandmother was dead.

~

            "What happened, doctor?" a woman said, worried.

            "Well, actually, it's hard to say…" the doctor replied, confused and embarrassed.

           

            "What do you mean, it's hard to say? My mother just died, with no warning! You said she was in perfect health! And if it was," the woman gulped. "If it was suicide, then what was it?" the woman was furious, for this fury masked the hurt.

            "Well, the truth is, she was. There was no indication that anything happened. Her heart just… stopped."

            The little girl in the corner was quiet, meek. She remembered what her grandma had said before, before her grandma died.

"Promise you won't ever take your life. Promise that whatever you do, no matter how depressed—that means sad, honey—promise that you'll never go as far as to kill yourself."

           

~

            For years little Hermione had searched everywhere, anywhere, to know what happened to her grandmother. Amazing, for a little girl—wait, no, amazing for anyone.

            Every single book she read was filled with hope. Hope that she would know what happened to her precious grandma. She found nothing.

            Except one. Her grandpa died the same way.

~

            Hermione had finally declared her search over. Her parents were glad; Hermione's behaviour worried them. Their Hermione was back.

            But Hermione's search was not over. Inside, inside her soul was a little girl, always hoping and searching to find how her grandma died. Maybe this was why she was such a bookworm. But one thing was for sure—every little thing she read, every spell she memorized, it was for her grandma. But, oh, the world has such cruel irony. For Hermione looked everywhere, in the most difficult spells.

            But not once had Hermione considered the killing curse.

~ (I was going to stop here but… This is an Easter treat.)

            She woke up in a hot sweat. Someone was wiping her forehead.

            "Hermione, dear, thank Merlin you woke up," Madame Pomfrey said. "You've had a ghastly fever!"

            Madame Pomfrey shied a bit, "Dreams can do that, you know."

            Hermione felt herself turning red. Did I talk in my sleep?

            "How silly of me, you must be wondering why you are here in the first place!"

            Hermione had thought nothing of the sort. Funny, she thought. "I guess," she answered.

            "Well… Hermione dear, this will be… shocking, but—"

            "You are of perfect health, Hermione. It was just a nervous break down," a voice came from the door. Both of the women looked up to see Dumbledore, glorious as ever, his eyes twinkling. Madame Pomfrey seemed dumbfounded. Her mouth opened, then closed, repeatedly, until she finally "Hmpf-ed" and walked out the door. Yet Hermione was too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice.

            "Hermione, I know this has been a tough time for you," Dumbledore said gently, the twinkle in his eyes a bit shadowed. "But Hermione, please, take care of yourself.

            She did not answer. This man, once, she had respected him. But that respect was gone, replaced with resent. He did not save her Harry. He did not save her saviour.

            Dumbledore sighed and walked out the room.

~

            Immediately after he walked out, Madame Pomfrey stormed up to him. "Dumbledore, are you mad? The girl needs to know!"

            Dumbledore shook his head. "It would just distress her."

            "Well, she'll find out soon enough anyway! Don't think that she won't notice her belly curving, her feet swelling, her bleeding stopping!"

            "That is why I've slipped a potion in her drink to slow the pregnancy down."

            Madame Pomfrey did not give up. "But she'll find out eventually!"

            Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Yes, Madame Pomfrey. But if things go how they are planned, how the prophecy is deciphered, how the stars say it, then it will work. It will work," Dumbledore repeated, partly reassuring himself.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! I lengthened, for you guys' Easter gift!

Thanks to my reviewers!

katie janeway: Yay! I've gotten someone hooked. Anyway, I'm glad you didn't think it was too overdone or something. The grandma thing will be very vital, you'll see.

sally (peaceful_blossom123@yahoo.co.uk) : Thanks! Your reviews make me feel happy.

Cara the Mord Smith: Wow, you're a faithful reviewer too! That's an awesome idea! I was tempted to change my plot.