As the sun set over the pristine houses of Privet Drive, a boy scratched off another day on the calendar within the confides of the house marked number four. Harry Potter had grown into the quite the handsome teen. He had developed some muscle, however still slim and agile, which was relatively nice improvement from his normally thin malnourished build. However no one could see this new found physique because the only clothes Harry owned were hand-me-downs from his cousin, Dudley, who was rapidly reaching the size of a baby whale.

Harry was not a normal boy. He hated summer holidays and his homework involved writing essays about Vampire Rights and the proper way to approach a hippogriff. The only thing in his appearance the connected him to that world was his lighting bolt scar on his forehead. Over the years he had found out more and more about that scar. In his first year, he found out that it was cause by the greatest, darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. In his second year, he discovered he could speak parseltongue because Voldemort had transferred some of his power to Harry when giving him the scar. Up until his third year he had thought a man named Sirius Black had given the whereabouts of his parent the night of attack but that year he found out it had really been Peter Pettigrew. In his fourth year, Voldemort had returned and Harry began feeling Voldemort's emotions through the pain through his scar. In the last year, his fifth, the Dark Lord had tricked via the visions he was seeing because of the connection made through the lightening bolt on his forehead.

Yet, Harry Potter was not thinking of any of this. The only thing on his mind was his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. They had been going out since officially since the end of their fourth year but every one had known the two would end up together. Harry had gone the last summer without seeing her only talking thorough owls but this was different.

The day before leaving for summer holidays Madam Pomfrey had informed Hermione of her pregnancy after the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione was in utter shock. They had used every magical charm and potion to prevent pregnancy. She had even made Harry where a condom just to be sure. The last thing she wanted was to get pregnant.

Madam Pomfrey had entered with a grave expression on her face pushing aside the curtain that separated Hermione from the others and put Imperturbable Charm on the curtain. "Ms. Granger, I have some news."

Hermione's stomach fell at least a hundred feet preparing for the worse. "Is Dolhov's curse worse than you expected?"

The school nurse sighed and said, "It has nothing to do with that." Madam Pomfrey sighed once again. "You're pregnant."

"That's impossible," Hermione said matter-of-factly as if that settled the matter.

"I'm sorry dear, but you, in fact, are pregnant. I triple checked the results."

Hermione looked as if she had ten arms, the nose of an Erumpent, and the face of a Malfoy. "You lie," she began quietly but her voice grew in intensity. "I am NOT pregnant. I'm fifteen. I'm a bloody PREFECT. I can't raise a baby. I have exams and . . ." Hermione's voice stopped suddenly. She had fainted.

When the young expecting mother awoke, Madam Pomfrey was talking in hushed tones to Professor McGonagall and the father himself, Harry, squeezed her hand tightly. Hermione gazed into Harry's eyes and Harry couldn't help but think everything was going to be alright. Hermione, however, did not share the same feeling.

"HOW COULD YOU . . . . HOW COULD YOU HAVE TALKED ME INTO," Hermione yelled. Harry was shocked and couldn't have helped but feel a little hurt. She had been the one who had wanted to have sex. Harry had even asked her twice if she was sure and both times she said yes.

Professor McGonagall turned to the two at the bed and said, "Ms. Granger, I do believe that you have never done anything that you didn't want to. You are strong witch and are quite old enough to make your own decisions."

Hermione was taken a back by her professor's comment and was trying to read the expression on her face. McGonagall looked angry and upset but most of all she appeared worried.

"Ms. Granger, I have informed your parents and Mr. Potter your aunt and uncle," McGonagall continued. With that, she left the infirmary.

Hermione didn't have time to take in McGonagall's abrupt and simply inconsiderate manner. Her head seemed to be spinning with anxiety, fear, and anger. She turned to Madam Pomfrey, who too seemed to be perplexed by the way her co-worker had acted.

"Madam Pomfrey, what about an umm a-abor-abortion?" Hermione asked her voice border lining tears. She couldn't have really wanted an abortion. Just last week, Hermione had tried to explain the topic to Ginny all the while pointing out how wrong it was. This was the girl who created S.P.E.W. for Merlin sakes

"A what?" she answered looking confused.

Hermione could not answer she was sobbing into the blanket. Harry, who had spoken this entire time, answered for his girlfriend. "Getting rid of the baby. Muggles sometimes have abortions when they don't want a baby."

The nurse grimaced and said, "In the wizarding the world, magically terminating the baby is extremely frowned upon. Besides it is quite impossible at this point. After the first four weeks, a magical connection has sparked between the mother and fetus. If we were to remove it, there is a high chance that Hermione will die in the process."

"No," Harry said squeezing Hermione's hand even harder.

"All leave you two alone, then," Pomfrey said leaving the room.

Harry grabbed Hermione by the shoulders gently and wiped away the tears. Looking into her eyes, he said, "I love you no matter what and we're going to get through this." Hermione smile and hugged him tightly.

That had been three weeks ago. Harry was still forced to come back to his aunt and uncle but he was going to allowed to leave in a week. He now knew why he had to stay with his Aunt Petunia; his mother's love that saved Harry as infant invokes an ancient magic that protected Harry when he was around his blood relatives. Nonetheless this knowledge did not make his experience at the Dursley's any more pleasant. When he first arrived, Harry was greeted with a declaration of the Dursley's love for him.

"We aren't taking care of it, boy," Uncle Vernon said referring to Harry's unborn baby.

Harry responded coldly, "Why would I torture my child?"

Uncle Vernon's face deepened in color and anger, but continued talking as Harry hadn't said anything. "I knew that's all that goes around in that bloody school of yours. Magic, my arse. Ain't no magic there except teenage whores and perverted boys."

Harry clenched his fist. Hermione was far from a whore. "Don't you talk about her that way."

"Ooh, he's got himself a lil' whore," Vernon said to Petunia laughing and purposely provoking Harry.

Harry clenched his fists even tighter. Just as Vernon was about to continue hassling the boy, a nearby bush instantaneously blew up and was followed up with purple billows.

"Stop it, Vernon," Petunia said craning her neck to see if any the neighbors were looking through their windows.

Dudley, however, was acting differently than his normal taunts and jabs at Harry. In fact, he was avoided his cousin all together. Every time the two's eyes met Dudley had the strangest look on his face, the look of envy. Harry had never seen Dudley bring home a girlfriend and he could not help but laugh at his plump jealous face.

Harry looked down at the parchment trying to concentrate on his essay about how the stars affect your mood. How do they expect me to be away from her for so long, Harry thought now giving up on the paper and pacing across his room. I want to be with her. Harry felt hopelessly frustrated.

Just then Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, came flying through the window carrying a letter. He hastily ripped open the envelope. Hedwig hooted indignantly and Harry realized how rudely he was treating his owl. He petted her and gave her some owl treats while readingtheletter. He immediatly recognized Hermione's handwriting. It had been the firstletter from herall summer.

My Dearest Boyfriend,

I'm sorry for not writing to you. For the past few weeks, I've been arguing with my parents. To put it mildly, they didn't take the news to well. My mum isn't speaking to me, didn't even say hello. My dad didn't say much until about a week into the summer holidays. At which point he told me I was ruining my future and they expected more out of me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just leave my family. Well then my mum spoke to me. She told me I had to leave.

I owled Ron who said I can say at Snuffle's place with him. So here I am. Molly can't stop fussing over me. I need you here with me. I love you so much and am sorry for being vague. There is SO much I need to tell you but can't.

Harry could not understand why Hermione didn't even sign her name, why she had to be vague,or why her parents would be so unreasonable. It was their daughter. Isn't that love unconditional? Wasn't that how it was supposed to be? Harry may have never have experienced this growing up but he knew one thing. Their child would have a normal and happy childhood.