A/N: Thanks to these lovely peeps: nehimasgift, melodicmoonstar89, shadieladie, KayKay2007, Kari-Hermione, vagrantben, pottersgirl91, aznqudditchchick, rox4787, imakeeper, Emi-Bum, Kuruomo, san01, PapayaCrazy, tofuubeaver, and CardboardCreative. You're such wonderful little chickidees (and chickidudes for those guys reading) for helping me make it to 138 reviews! I am really, truly, and completely grateful to yins!

Now let's get the ball rolling... things are going to get really good from here on out. -wink-


Chapter 10 – The Father Discussion

Hermione sat at lunch, a half eaten sandwich on her plate and a book at her side. But not just any book. It was a book that was very near and dear to her heart. She sighed and pushed her plate away, picking up the book and opening the front cover. She looked at the first page with the title and the poem by Helen Steiner Rice. She turned the page and smiled at the picture there.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the first two pages in her hand and ripped them cleanly from the book. Folding them and tucking them in her pocket so the picture wouldn't bend, Hermione stood up and threw her half eaten lunch away. She gripped the book to her chest and made her way up to the Janus Thickey Ward, her head bowed and exhaustion written on her face.

She made it there in complete silence, people walking past her in blurs and blares of sound. She entered a room on the ward, one she had been in earlier that day. The six visitors had gone and all that was there now was a star Quidditch player laying in his bed. His back was to the door and his right shoulder rose and fell with his breathing as sunlight made his room glow a warm yellow.

"Oliver... are you awake?" Hermione cooed.

He didn't answer as she walked over and hesitated before sitting down on his bed. She laid a hand on his elbow and his head turned further into his pillow, hiding his face from view.

"Wood?"

Her hand moved up to his shoulder and she pushed gently. He turned over onto his back and sat up on his elbow to look at her. There were brown circles around his eyes and his lips were chapped. Sleep rested in the inside corner of his eyes and his hair was very unruly. Hermione held her breath as she took all that in, but when she saw the crestfallen look he gave, she felt guilty.

She stood up and went to the restroom, coming back with a wet washcloth. She handed it to him and he sighed before rubbing his face roughly with it. He sat there for a moment, his face resting in the washcloth in his hands before he slid it back through his hair. Wetting the tips of his hair and making it stand on end.

Hermione felt an unusual twist in her midsection and she bowed her head to the book in her hands. She swallowed, bracing her voice for what instructions she was going to give him. She looked up and saw that he was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her.

"I've brought you something to read," Hermione said softly. "It's the story I've been reading to you. I thought maybe you would want to finish it while I'm working today."

"I'll read it later," Wood replied shortly as he got up and walked past her into the bathroom.

Hermione heard water begin running and she figured that he must be in the shower. She laid the book on the bedside table and left to go tend to the other patients.


"Okay, Kirsten," Harry beamed at her. "Ron's just going to rest in the house for a bit. Ginny and I are going to play Quidditch with you."

"Aunt Ginny isn't afraid of me hurting her too?" Kirsten asked huffily.

She had gotten angry with herself in the past hour about what she had caused to happen to Ron.

"Now, I thought that we agreed not to talk about that. Ron's fine and he even said that he's not mad and that it could happen any time," Harry scolded playfully. "Besides, your aunt isn't as thick headed as your uncle," he added with an amused look from Ginny.

The three of them entered the private makeshift Quidditch pitch and mounted their brooms, Harry summoning the Quaffle to him.

"Ready all? Kirsten, remember, all you have to do is keep me from making a single goal," Harry bellowed over to the little girl's retreating back.

Within moments, Kirsten was at the center goal post and Harry was headed her way, Ginny hot on his tail. Kirsten cheered as Ginny stole the Quaffle and raced down to the goals at the other end. This was much harder on Harry; playing the way they were. He had to work on fighting off Ginny as well as trying to make it past Kirsten who was a rather good Keeper for her age.

Ginny on the other hand, only had to worry about making it past Harry while racing down, circling the opposite goals, and then back up to Kirsten to make a goal before Harry caught her. The were once more on their way up to Kirsten when Ginny threw the Quaffle for a goal. Harry caught it quickly and Ginny narrowed her eyes, taking off after him.

Kirsten fidgeted on her broom and laid low to the handle as Harry made his way toward her. But she never got to stop his goal attempt. Ginny soared up and knocked the Quaffle from his hands, hitting him in the face in the process.

"Ginny!"

"Oh, Harry, dear!" Ginny gasped as she dropped the Quaffle and turned to Harry.

Kirsten looked to the Quaffle as it hit the ground, and then back to Ginny and Harry who were now chuckling.

"I forgot you're not a born Chaser, dear," Ginny apologized. "I'll keep in mind next time to tone it down a bit and remember you're Seeker built. No sneaky Chaser tactics from me anymore... promise. Are your glasses all right?"

"Fine, Gin," Harry said while adjusting his glasses.

Ginny reached over, giggling as she double checked. Harry grabbed her and pulled her closer, extracting a shriek from her as she feared falling from her broom. Kirsten sighed disappointedly. This is why she liked playing with Ron and Harry instead of Harry and Ginny. She never had to worry about her two uncles frolicking on their brooms and kissing.

Kirsten huffed and soared angrily to the ground before wandering off into the woods towards the pond behind The Burrow. She dropped down on the bank of the pond and pulled her knees up to her chest, her arms hugging her legs to her. She was angry, very angry. She wasn't sure why, but today had been awful. She was a child, life shouldn't be like this.

It was as though there was something growing in her chest. Something black and evil. She could feel it starting to suffocate her and she hated it. Or was it something growing? Maybe it was something missing. Something in her mind screamed out from the back of her head. She had heard it faintly, unable to really understand it. It called again and she heard it this time. 'Broken family.'

'That's why you're miserable' a grown up voice in her head said firmly. 'Your family is broken. All you've got is a mother and that's no good... not even for her. You need a father.'

"But would Momma notice me then? Or would she be like Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry?" Kirsten murmured.

'She wouldn't forget you, but she can't love you all by herself; it's too much for her' the voice said again.

"I need a daddy... someone to help love me and mum both," Kirsten sniffed. "But who if my own wouldn't stay around?"


Hermione leaned against the cart she was pushing. She had just collected the dinner trays and everyone was settling into bed. It was a little past eight in the evening and she was already way past exhausted. She closed her eyes and pushed the cart, stumbling and wincing as a pile of silverware clattered to the floor.

She groaned and slouched against the wall. She couldn't handle much more of this. She moved around the cart and stooped to pick up the forks and such. She was halfway done picking them up when someone stooped beside her and began helping her.

"Why don't you go home now?" Padma suggested in a peaceful tone.

"I can't do that," Hermione replied slurrishly.

"Sure you can... you can just repay me tomorrow by letting me leave an hour early," Padma laughed.

"And what for?" Hermione questioned snappishly.

"I've got a date," Padma beamed as she stood up with Hermione.

"With who?"

"You remember that one Puddlemere player who was here earlier?"

"Padma," Hermione grumbled. "The whole damn team was here."

"The really cute one," Padma continued. "The one with black hair and the dreamy body... Kent."

"Oh," Hermione mumbled. "You're sure?" she asked a moment later as they entered the cleaning room.

"Most definitely," Padma chimed as she dumped the dishes into a sink and flicked her wand at them.

Hermione watched the first couple dishes clean themselves before heaving a sigh and relenting to Padma's offer.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow then," Hermione muttered thankfully. "G'night."

"Night," Padma called as she began stacking the trays and dishes.

Hermione made her way down the corridor of the Janus Thickey Ward, peeking in each room as she passed to make sure all was well before she left. She came to Wood's room and felt her lips curl upward on one side.

Oliver was asleep, the book Hermione had given him earlier that day resting on his chest, and a peaceful expression on his face. Hermione entered the room and picked up the book, closing it and laying it on the bedside table once more. She pulled up the covers and leaned forward, kissing his cheek before she realized what she was doing.

She stood up quickly, a little too quickly. He stirred, but didn't wake. She stood there for a moment, studying his face before a faint ghost of a smile crossed her lips. Hermione brushed her fingertips in his hairline, feeling that feeling from earlier once again. She placed the feeling this time, or at least related it to many things. Loneliness for one. Longing, heartache, and reaching out. But the one thing that was beginning to burn more and more with each look at him was a feeling rekindled. Love.


Hermione entered The Burrow and saw Ron sitting at the kitchen table with Luna. She was reading a copy of The Quibbler. 'As usual' Hermione thought as she smiled at Ron weakly.

"How'd everything go tod- Ron... do you have a black eye?" Hermione asked.

She wasn't able to see it before, but now she could. Ron's eye was bruised looking, reddish purple and looking rather swollen.

"What happened?" she asked.

Ron just sighed heavily and picked up his steaming mug, drinking heavily from it. Hermione looked from him to Luna who was still immersed in the tabloid before her. 'A heard of hippogriff could run past and she wouldn't tear herself away from that ridiculous thing' Hermione thought in irritation.

"He had a little run-in with a Bludger," Ginny laughed from the doorway of the kitchen.

"What do you mean, run-in?" Hermione inquired, feeling this had something to do with her daughter.

"We were playing Quidditch and Kirsten let one of the Bludgers out and it got me," Ron replied.

"I'm sorry," Hermione frowned with a tiresome feeling.

"It's fine," Ron waved off as he took another huge gulp. "Just uh- fix this, will ya?"

He gestured to his eye and Hermione nodded while quickly pulling out her wand. She leaned Ron's head back and waved her wand, reducing the swollen part of it.

"I'm afraid you'll have to talk to Fred and George about the color... see if they'll give you some of that ointment for black eyes and such," Hermione instructed. "So, where is my little trouble causer?"

"In the living room playing Wizard Chess with Harry," Ginny replied as she moved from the doorway to let Hermione pass.

Hermione entered the living room to see Harry looking deep in thought and Kirsten looking rather sleepy. Hermione looked down at the board and noticed that Harry, sadly enough, was losing. Something Kirsten picked up from Ron, if anything, was how to win at Wizard Chess, yet she still couldn't beat Ron himself.

"Hello there," Hermione beamed in an exhausted way from the doorway of the living room.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry greeted as Kirsten yawned.

"Hi Mum," she muttered.

"C'mon... let's get you home and in bed," Hermione smiled while walking over and pulling Kirsten up from the squishy couch.

They walked over to the fireplace and Hermione took a little of the Floo Powder in the pot on the mantle while nodding to Harry who stood and messed his unruly black hair. Hermione picked Kirsten up, threw the powder into the flames, and then stepped in while shouting their destination.

"The Grange!"

After whirling around for a few moments, Kirsten pressed her face into her mother's neck and Hermione closed her eyes. They landed, Hermione stumbling a bit, but managing to stay upright. She continued to carry Kirsten upstairs to her own bed and let the little girl change while Hermione turned down her bed.

"Good night," Hermione bid as she turned on a little lamp at a small desk in Kirsten's room.

"Mum?" Kirsten called sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Today... today I asked Ginny about my dad, and she said to ask you," Kirsten explained. She paused for a moment and Hermione stared at her in expectant horror, all the while wondering just what Ginny might have said. "I asked her why he didn't fight you to keep me. And... why didn't you want to share me with him?"

Hermione stood there for a moment, stock still as her mind blew up with things that she could say. She didn't want to lie to her daughter though, so she sighed and sat down on the bed, biting her bottom lip and trying to sort out a suitable explanation.

"Well, Kirsten, baby," Hermione muttered, "you see... the thing is... your father and I- we had uh- differences about some things before you came along and-"

"So he doesn't know about me?" Kirsten butt in curiously.

"No, honey, he doesn't," Hermione replied.

"Do you think he would want me if he did know?" Kirsten muttered.

Hermione looked at Kirsten for a moment, frown lines creasing Hermione's forehead as she took a deep breath. Hermione watched a tear roll down Kirsten's cheek and she pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering.

"Kirsten... aren't I enough?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject and get Kirsten to forget about not having a father.

'Why are you trying to avoid this?' Hermione's mind questioned her. 'You knew this would come... Yes, I did. But I didn't expect it so soon.'

"I love you, Mommy," Kirsten began, giving a hiccup before continuing. "But I don't understand why you didn't want him to know about me."

"It's not that I didn't want him to," Hermione tried to reason. "It's just that-that-"

She was in some major trouble now. She would have to admit that Kirsten's father had left her for something else. She would have to tell her daughter that her father didn't love Hermione enough to stick around and find out about Kirsten. Hermione suddenly felt very much to blame for all the pain her daughter was feeling.

"Who was he?" Kirsten inquired suddenly.

"Oh... um... well, Kirsten," Hermione stammered. "I think this is a conversation for breakfast. You should be going to bed... I've got to get up early as do you so I can take you to Grandma and Grandpa's."

"Momma-"

"G'night, Kirsten," Hermione said with a tone of finality as she stood up, kissed Kirsten's forehead, and quickly left the room.

Kirsten groaned and rolled over, pursing her lips and glaring at the lamp on the desk as sleep fell over her slowly. Meanwhile, Hermione was in her room, pacing and trying to figure out how to tell her daughter her father left before he knew about her because he felt that things wouldn't work with him and her mother.

"What do I even say?" Hermione sighed as she sat down on the bed and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet.

She sighed and slid back on the bed, getting under the covers as she flipped through the pages and came to the sports section. There a picture stood out to her. A dashing smile on the face of a black and white Oliver Wood. The headline read 'Puddlemere Keeper Still In St. Mungo's'.

The burly Puddlemere Keeper, Oliver Wood, remains in the care of the Janus Thickey staff at St. Mungo's. His condition has yet to be released, but our reporters at the Prophet are working on bringing this precious information to our beloved readers.

Hermione shook her head and scanned the article for a name, expecting to see Rita Skeeter when she saw something rather shocking. It wasn't by Rita, rather someone Hermione had never heard of before.

"New reporter, eh?" Hermione said to herself.

She shook her head and folded the paper, giving the name no real attention as she laid the paper on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. She laid there for a while, tossing and turning, expecting to hear Kirsten's footsteps coming down the hall to her room, but they never did.

Hermione huffed and rolled over once more, cursing the fact that she couldn't get to sleep. Sadly enough, by the morning, she would be wishing that she had gotten a good night's sleep. Things weren't going to be easy for her tomorrow.