Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR.

Chapter 2: A Realisation

Over the next two weeks, I got next-to-no sleep. I stressed about my 'know-it-all' brain failing me on the mystery of R.A.B., then woke up in a cold sweat once I'd eventually relaxed and nodded off. I instead used the small hours as space to think with clarity that you can only achieve when there's nobody else around to bother you.

Over the last fortnight, Harry, Ron and me had left the Burrow (Mrs Weasley had been so concerned about my health after I had thrown up, it had become more than a little annoying) returned to Harry's aunt and uncle's house (for the least amount of time that anyone could possibly get away with) and already spent two nights at Godric's Hollow.

It feels weird being here. The place has been uninhabited since Harry's parents had died sixteen years ago, and apart from the fact that the interior was in an even worse state than Grimmauld Place was, as soon as you walked through the door you felt as though you'd come to see someone on their death-bed. Harry didn't want to move in to Sirius's old house, so he decided that Godric's Hollow was the best base available to us to search for Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes. I was surprised to say the least. He's spent most of the time we've already been here just walking between the rooms, not saying a word. He actually found his father's old eleven-inch, mahogany wand. Harry displayed it on the sitting room's granite mantelpiece; I have reverence for him that he has the strength to come here. If I was in his situation, I'm not sure if I could.

I've been keeping myself busy. I'm splitting my time between cleaning this place so that it's fit for human habitation, and doing what I do best: scanning reference books for information about a part of Voldemort's soul. Books have never failed me yet. I've been scrounging books off everyone I've met, even taking some of Mrs Weasley's from the Burrow.

Harry and Ron keep saying how concerned they are about me. They keep nagging at me to slow down, or to eat more. I have been under-eating. Harry and Ron obviously don't know about this, but even my period hasn't shown this month, and it was due a week ago. It's to be expected I guess. I've heard stress and malnutrition can make them stop for a while.

I sat up a little straighter in bed, shivering. Godric's Hollow always felt so eerie, so cold. Chill spread through the cracks in the windows, rushed down the fireplace flues with a threatening whoosh. I waved my wand in a sweeping motion above my head and cast a warming charm. It didn't improve the situation much. Weird how icy the weather's been here really, considering it's early August. I rub my eyes. Tomorrow I'd sort out some of the fireplaces so that they could be lit. I know Harry was going for a meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour the next day, probably to refuse to be his 'mascot' again. He asked if I wanted to come, but I decided I'd rather stay behind, get some things done.

I stretched, wondered across the silent landing, bar a creaky floorboard I stood on, and lay my head against Harry and Ron's bedroom doorway, letting the splintered wood catch my cheek slightly. I marvelled again at the fact that Harry didn't even mind that I was sleeping in Harry's old nursery – with Ron and him staying in Harry's parent's room. Then again, I remember him saying once that he didn't even miss his parents that much, because he never really knew them. He's got a point, I guess.

Most of the stuff we had now was transfigured from pointless objects, or conjured from thin air if one of us could manage it. I found magically altered beds were never quite as comfy as real ones, food seemingly appearing from nowhere never had the same taste as 'real' meals. But there you go.

I shut my eyes for a few seconds, just to rest. Not to fall asleep.

Snape grabbed a small vial made of crystal and shoved it in Hermione's face. He forced the opening into her mouth, her body made to swallow the liquid inside. The milky-white potion inside tasted vile, tangy and bitter. She froze with terror as Snape looked straight into her eyes, her chestnut-brown orbs turning to pools of frightened shock…

My eyes opened with a snap. Oh my God…

I ran downstairs with an urgent haste, stumbling over cracks in the floor, not caring who I woke up. I grabbed a leather-bound tome, with pages of ancient parchment, that I had borrowed off Mrs Weasley – the one about medicinal potions. I rifled through to page four-hundred-and-ninety-seven, and paused to read the bottom paragraph that I'd already read once before.

'…This fertility enhancer features rare ingredients and is very difficult to make. It is seldom used except for couples with a very small chance of ever conceiving children naturally, due to the fact that it is the most powerful potion known of its kind in existence and little is known about its long-term affects on the mother or baby. The potion is slightly translucent and milky-white in colour, due to the inclusion of Mooncalf milk at the final stage of brewing. Another reason that it is usually only recommended to couples with very low fertility is because of its potential side-effects, which can include the baby being born prematurely.'

I started to hyperventilate heavily and collapsed in a heap onto the uneven, uncarpeted floor. He couldn't have. He wouldn't have. Why the hell would Severus Snape want a child?

An heir, maybe, whispered a small voice inside my head.

This can't be happening. I can't be pregnant.

Can I?

The next morning, I woke up with even darker circles under my eyes than yesterday, and a sore back from sleeping on the floor. I sat up and yawned widely, to find Ron standing about two feet away pouring milk he'd transfigured into a gigantic bowl of cereal. Seems men can never have too much to eat.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, sitting on a moth-eaten rug next to where I had apparently spent the night. "I was a bit worried when I couldn't see you in your room, but turned out you'd just decided that the floor felt comfier instead! Harry's already gone to the Ministry," he finished by way of explanation.

We sat in silence, my memory of our conversation that ended with me throwing up still fresh in my mind. Ron's ears reddened slightly as he opened his mouth again.

"You know what I was going to say at the Burrow…" he said uncertainly, scratching the back of his neck. "Would you? Like to…" He trailed off and looked away, embarrassed.

I've never felt worse in my whole life than I'd been feeling recently, and I'd wanted Ron to ask me out since third year. This could potentially be the pick-me-up I needed. Yet, after what had happened with Snape, I've felt like I could ever kiss a guy again, with the irrational fear that his skin would pale, his eyes darken to infinite tunnels, somehow denser than normal black.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, said the voice inside my head again. I glanced over at Medicinal Potions and felt my chest tighten.

There's got be something in relationships that's better that what I'd experienced with Victor Krum, a deeper connection, an understanding. And I couldn't spend my whole life refusing to move on…

"That'd be great, Ron." He breathed a sigh. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, tracing my fingers up his neck and smiling at him. He grinned back.

I don't care how far my relationship goes with him.

I'm still keeping my deepest, darkest secret of all from him. I'll never tell anyone. I can't.

A/N: Again, I should have the next part up in about three days. Big thanks to dancerrdw, isnani, IsabellaPaige, 99 Red Balloons and EruditeWitch who all reviewed! Anyone who has just read this, more reviews would be appreciated...

Best, glamur xxx