Chapter 2

3 Years Later

"Think, think, think, think." The woman muttered angrily, her hands traveling through her already-messed hair once more. Grabbing her pen, she scribbled something down, only to send it, like the others, to the trashcan.

"It's no use." The woman groaned. "I can't do this."

The female beside her turned and tried to encourage her distraught friend.

"Don't give up now," she said soothingly, "you can do it. I mean, you have written others haven't you? And besides, Joey is counting on you."

The woman smiled, rather weakly though, at her friend. If there was anything that could bring her back up to speed, it was her two and a half year old son, Joey. Well either him or her temptation for a nice, fat, chocolate bar.

"Ok, you have persuaded me..............once again." The woman grinned sheepishly at her friend. "I will work on it a little longer. Anyway Abby, do you know when Paul is supposed to be coming by with the extra ink? We really need it if the residents of Blumfield are going to have their weekly newspapers by Friday."

Abby turned to her computer and started typing again.

"Don't know Herm," she answered, her eyes flicking from her friend to the computer screen as she typed. "When Kenny talked to him last Monday, he said that he would guarantee that it would be here by tomorrow. Why?"

Hermione blushed scarlet at Abby's last word.

"Oh I was just wondering that's all." Hermione reached for another leaf of paper.

"You are such a liar." Abby laughed heartily, "You like Paul and I know it. You might as well confess right now!"

The ladies laughed and it didn't take long for all stiffness in the air to be banished by the woman's good cheer.

"You're home."

Hermione shrugged off her jacket .

"Yes I am. How is Joey?"

"Oh he is fine, absolutely fine! He is in here, coloring with his new crayons."

"Oh well I guess that is o- wait a minute." Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes fixed straight on Joey's babysitter, Mary. "New crayons? Where the hell did he get new crayons?"

Mary smirked before heading into the kitchen.

"You spoil him too much you know?" Hermione lectured as she followed Mary into the kitchen. He can't have new things everyday. He needs to learn to love and treasure the things he has."

"Oh give me a break Hermione." Mary snorted. "Crayons won't do him any harm. Besides, he was bored and we had reread all his storybooks at least three times. Don't worry, he loved them. At least, they kept him active until you got home. Think of them as a thing to make your life quieter."

Hermione shot a cold gaze at the babysitter before tuning in on her son.

"Hello silly face!" she cried, dropping into the chair neighboring the one her son sat in. "Did you have fun with your new crayons?"

Joey Ronald Granger turned to his mother, giggling happy as he proudly showed her his work of art; something that was suppose to be a dog and flower. At least, that was Hermione's guess.

"Oh baby," she breathed. "It's beautiful."

Joey giggled again. Jumping off his chair, he grabbed his mommy's legs in a loving hug.

Hermione blinked back tears. To many people, this would just be a regular way of greeting someone. To Hermione, it was a reward for her hard day's work.

"Fuv oou." Joey whispered.

Hermione knew he was trying to say, "I love you", which made her choke on her tears. But Joey was different. As a baby, he hadn't started teething until he was about ten months old. While most children started walking before they were one, Joey had waited till he was one year and four months before he had even taken one step. But the saddest thing about Joey was his vocal communication. As all kids his age were talking in sentences, Joey couldn't talk at all. Yes, he did try to say things, but they came out all messed up, sort of crumbled together. Hermione had heard people stare and whisper at him. In fact, people had come up to her to sympathize Hermione for having a retarded baby. Hermione knew her son was healthy, but it was just hard for him to learn things, especially when he lived with one parent, whose spouse didn't even know a son of his existed.

"Well I think it's time for me to hop right out of here." Mary exclaimed, grabbing her purse on her way to the door. "Tomorrow at eight a.m right?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"Correct." She said. "Thanks Mary. Have a nice night? Joey can you say "Bye bye" to Mary?"

Joey waved.

Mary quickly noticed this, and shot a compassionate look to Hermione before leaving.

"At last!" Hermione rushed to her closet and pulled it open, disappearing into it. Joey laughed happily as his mom reappeared with a stick thing in her hand.

"I thought she would never leave. Now we can do our magic, right silly face?" she asked Joey who clapped his hands in reply.

With a short flick of her wand, Hermione soon had knives cutting up ripe tomatoes, while the stove boiled noodles. Joey helped his mommy (rather clumsily I must add) clean up the table and put his pictures and crayons in the cupboard under the hallway mirror.

As they ate their spaghetti, Hermione couldn't help but compare Joey to his father, Ron Weasley. She could tell they were alike in many ways. For example: his hair. With a color that strongly resembled tomato paste, Joey's hair was short and ruffly; his bangs just long enough to hang in his eyes, like his dad's. Like Ron's, his fingers were long and slender, his freckles bridged across his nose. In fact, it was only Hermione's sky blue eyes that Joey carried; that and her short, stubby ears.

As she was still thinking about the topic of Ron, Hermione started remembering the times they had together at Hogwarts. It had been in their fourth year they both had realized their feelings for the other one. They had gone out over the summer and when fifth year had started, she had known that it was not a crush, it was love she felt for him and he the same. In fact if it hadn't been for her –

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!"

Hermione awoke out of her daydreams to find a spaghetti-covered, crying Joey.

"Oh silly face, let's get you cleaned up." She soothed softly.

Hermione grabbed Joey's sticky hand and lead him to his bedroom. By this time, Joey was screaming his lungs off. Hermione tried many times to silence him.

"Shhhhhh, silly face you will get Mr. Fillmore over here and we don't want that." Hermione cried frantically, tugging on Joey's sweater. Joey just screamed louder..

"Oh darnit. I forgot, I'm a witch." Hermione silently scolded herself as she raced downstairs for her wand.

"Silencio!" Hermione cried. Joey immediately became mute, as he could no longer make sound, but yet he could scream to his heart's content.

Later that night, Hermione plummeted onto her bed, the refreshing night air gently cascading over her tired body.

Crawling under the covers Hermione reached for a pillow and clasped it tightly. Next door, she could hear a symphony blaring from Mr. Fillmore's house. A women's laughter flowed through the music, added by a man's excited talking and a little girl's screams of pleasure.

"Lucky them." Hermione thought miserably as she flicked the light off.

Surrounded in a pool of darkness, Hermione shed her tears. The tears that she held when she saw her dormitory at Greenoak. The tears she felt when a girl beat her up for being a show off. The tears she forced back as she delivered Joey. The tears she pushed when Joey first got sick. The tears she stopped from flowing when people insulted her son. They all flowed downwards, soaking her pillow and slowly producing dreamless, long sleep.

That stunk. Hopefully the next chapter will be a little bit better!!!!!!