Chapter Two - Burial

Couldn't hear no music,
Couldn't see no light.
Mama, she was frightened,
Crazy from the fright.

Hermione was a different person. After Ron died and she lost Harry for the second time, she fell apart. She was living in an old cabin in the deepest area of the woods. She drifted away from the Weasleys and all other contact and never told a soul her secret – a last reminder of Harry: a tiny baby boy who looked just like him in every way, except for the lightning scar. But it was not his green eyes or his messy black hair that reminded her of him. It was his hands. Even at his age, less than two, he had Harry's hands: small, with long, slender fingers that were slightly pointed. Hermione loved him more than anything else on earth, but at the same time she would try to reject him. He was Harry to her, and knowing that Harry could never know his son broke her heart more than anything else.

The day came when the dam blocking her pain burst. Hermione fell to her knees and screamed as loudly as she could. She pulled on her hair, nearly tearing it out of her scalp. She beat the ground with her fists. Tears poured down her thin, almost-lifeless face. And she continued to scream.

"I can't do this anymore!" she yelled to the air. "I can't do this! I hate it! I HATE IT!"

Her throat was burning. Her voice was fading – she had not spoken for ages, and was not used to such an outburst.

It began to rain. The baby was crying. Hermione's screaming had woken him and scared him badly. He was afraid of thunderstorms and was now rattling his broken-down crib. Hermione went over to him and picked him up, holding him close.

"It's you," she whispered. "I can't bear being with you."

Tears without no comfort,
Screams without no sound.
Only darkness and pain,
The anger and pain,
The blood and the pain!

She took him outside. Almost immediately they were soaked through. The baby was in hysterics by now. He squirmed in Hermione's arms, trying to get back inside. She held him tightly, not willing to let him go.

There was a hole in the front yard under the tallest pine tree. It had been there when Hermione arrived, and she had found no use for it. But now…now…

Hermione paused in front of the hole. The baby had stopped crying now and was shivering. For a while, the old Hermione came back:

What are you doing?

"Getting rid of Harry altogether," she answered through gritted teeth.

Would he want this?

"I don't know. I can't ask him. He's DEAD."

You love him, don't you?

"With all of my heart. But he's gone."

No, he's not. You have the best part of Harry with you.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, and placed the freezing baby in the hole. He looked up at her and held out his hands pleadingly.

"Mama," he said. It was his first word. Hermione tore her gaze away and ran back into her house.

I buried my heart in the ground!
In the ground-
When I buried you in the ground.

He's his father in every way, Hermione.

"I know!"

You love him more than you love Harry.

"I know…" she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

So do what Harry would want you to do.

Hermione hesitated. How could she go back? Harry would never forgive her, and neither would his son.

God wants no excuses.
I have only one:
You had your daddy's hands.
Forgive me.
You were your daddy's son.

She ran outside to the hole and picked up the baby. The tears were flowing down her face again as she carried him inside and got him into dry clothes. He was still shivering. Hermione changed her own clothes and held the baby close, warming him as much as she could. Eventually he stopped shivering and his breathing became regular. Relief and love for Harry's son washed over Hermione in a giant wave. She lay with him on her little bed, the blankets tucked up to their chins, and kissed the top of his head.

"I will do what's best for him."

A/N: Very short chapter. But very difficult to write. If you haven't heard the song "Your Daddy's Son" from Ragtime, go buy the soundtrack or something and LISTEN TO IT. It's beautiful and sad. And for all you lawyers…um…I make no profit from Daddy's Son and…my compliments to the composer.