Dedicated to: As I said before, "Monica, duh."

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

On My Own

Chapter Three- Reveries & Remembrance

"Please, Fred," said Ron, almost begging at this point. "I don't want anything to happen to Hermione if I'm gone. I want to know that there will be someone there for her."

It was all too sudden for Fred. He had known Ron and Hermione had been together since the end of sixth year, but he had no idea they were so serious to the point of engagement. "I really don't know, Ron," he said seriously. Why was Ron coming to him, of all people, for help?

Ron looked away; Fred could see the tears forming. "She's going to have a baby, Fred," he said suddenly; quietly. "I need to know someone is there for them both."

Why did he have to play the sympathy card? Fred sighed, giving in. "Fine," he said.

Ron smiled and left Fred alone in the small room. He returned several minutes later, only he wasn't alone. Following closely behind was the strict Professor McGonagall. Before Fred could react or remark, Ron was telling McGonagall the entire story from start to finish. Ending with how Hermione was pregnant. A look of shock registered across the old witch's face momentarily. "Ms. Granger?" she had exclaimed.

Ron nodded, continuing. He finally told her that she needed to help them perform an Unbreakable Vow; that she needed to be their Bonder.

She looked at them both for a few moments as she contemplated what to do. Hesitantly, she removed her wand from the pocket of her robes. The aging professor took a deep breath before she spoke. "I hope you boys know what you are doing," she said.

Ron smiled at her. "I know what I'm doing professor," he assured her. He looked at Fred and they grasped right hands.

The professor stepped forward and placed the tip of her wand on their linked hands.

Ron looked Fred in the eyes and spoke."Will you, Fred, watch over Hermione Granger and the child she is carrying if something is to happen to me during this battle?"

Fred nodded his head. "I will."

Instantly, a skeletal tongue of luminous flame erupted from the tip of Professor McGonagall's wand, winding around their hands, glowing red. Ron continued, unblinkingly, "And will you watch over the baby as if it were your own?"

He looked at his brother unsurely, but did not release his hand. "I will." Another flame shot out from the wand and formed a glowing chain around their linked hands.

"And will you, if I don't make it tonight, make sure that both of them remain alive and well, even if it may cause you yourself harm?"

He looked at his brother one more time, except now, he was sure. He knew that he needed to do this one thing for his brother; he needed to be serious today. Something inside him told him that it would be the biggest regret of his life if he did not make this promise. So Fred did what a loyal brother would do. "I will," he said. A third flame was emitted from the professor's wand and it formed a thick chain around their hands. In that moment, Fred's fate was sealed, even if he didn't know it. The wheels were in motion for something that would change several peoples lives in an almost drastic way.

The professor looked at them both, sympathy in her eyes as she stowed away her wand. "You've done a good thing, Fred," she said, clasping him briefly on the shoulder. She sniffled suddenly. "We all knew this day would come. Let's just hope it ends the way we all want it to."

Ron, who seemed to have been a different person that day, embraced Professor McGonagall quickly. "Thank you, Professor," he said. "If Hermione knew, she'd only love you more."

She chuckled. Suddenly, she looked down at her watch. "I must be going right now, there is so much more to arrange," she turned away from them and was about to exit when she unexpectedly turned back around to them. "Professor Dumbledore, when we used to discuss the inevitable battle, would always tell me the same thing."

Fred and Ron looked at each other unsurely, not knowing what the late Headmaster had always said.

"Remember: eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines," she told them with a grin.

Fred laughed while Ron cocked an eyebrow. "How is that supposed to be helpful?" he asked curiously.

Her grin widened. "I have no idea," she answered. "But he said it was award-winning advice."

---

After sharing this memory with Hermione, Fred felt better. Like it had been some big secret he could not contain inside any longer. Her reaction was something unexpected. She laughed.

"Ron was serious?" she asked, still laughing. "Are you sure?"

"Uh… as sure as my name is Fred Weasley," he said.

She jokingly cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

He couldn't help but grin at her momentary silliness. "Yes, Hermione, I'm sure."

"Who said I was Hermione?"

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm pregnant; of course I'm not feeling all right."

Rolling his eyes, he took a long drag from his butterbeer. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Hermione do the same, finishing off hers. She put it down on the table. He swallowed the last of his own and placed the empty bottle on the table next to hers. They sat in silence for a few moments.

Hermione was the one to break it. "You won't die, Fred," she said.

He had started tracing circles with his finger on the table, and looked up at her words. "You'll let me help you, then?"

She shrugged. "It's what Ron wanted."

"I have a feeling we've done this before," said Fred.

"We did, but this past month was really just a trial."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Don't you say "oh" like you didn't know! I told you!"

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"I did too, Fredrick Weasley!"

He groaned. Once Hermione used your full name, you knew it was time to surrender. "Maybe in your delirious mind," he muttered.

She grinned, knowing it was too easy to get him to give in. Unlike Ron, Fred was not stubborn. On occasion he might show the stubbornness his mother had given all her children, but he was not like Ron. The more Hermione mused the more she realized that they only had a few things in common: red hair, blood and siblings. They both even had blue eyes, but completely different blue eyes. Ron's had been dark, like the ocean. While Fred's… Fred's were just lighter, always twinkling with mischief and thoughts of pranking someone.

Her grin faded some as she looked into Fred's eyes now. They weren't how she remembered them. She remembered twinkling, and happiness. All she saw now was sadness; worry.

"What's wrong?" she heard Fred asked her suddenly, pulling her out of her reverie. She shook her head and look down at the table.

"Nothing," she answered.

"You really should talk to Harry," he suddenly said, abruptly changing the subject of their conversation to the subject that he was currently mulling over in his mind.

She sighed, she had known this was going to come up in conversation sooner or later. "I don't want to talk about this, Fred," she said. "Not now anyway."

He nodded understandingly. "I want you to know, though, that Harry misses you. A lot."

---

They left the Three Broomsticks not too long after and headed back to the castle. It was starting to get dark and a little chilly outside. Hermione looked up at the castle, which seemed to glow in the sunset. She suddenly remembered the first time she entered; how happy she had been. But another memory invaded, ruining her unexpected happiness.

It had only been a little over two months that they had arrived at Hogwarts castle to finish the Second War. The walk into the castle that time had been anything but cheerful. It was a depressing time. It was the last time for many they knew.

It had been Ron's last time.

If she had known it was his last time, what would she have done? Would she have stopped him from stepping through those doors?

Of course, if Hermione thought further on the subject, it was strangely fitting that he had died on the school grounds. She couldn't say exactly why it seemed right, it just did. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was some place they all loved. Maybe it was also because she would always know where to go to remember him. (Not that she would ever forget him.)

She smiled at the thought that Ron would never truly be gone. Wasn't she carrying a part of Ron inside her at that very moment? The child that she had growing inside of her, was it not a piece of Ron?

Without thinking, Hermione pulled Fred on a short detour. They had past the castle gates, and, without words, she led Fred across the grounds to an all too familiar spot. The tears she was expecting, however, never came. The sadness she had expected to wash over her did not consume her. Instead, she was left with only her memory of the spot she was standing on.

Hermione knew that life would never be the same without Ron, but also knew that she had to move on, for the sake of the baby growing inside of her. She knew that she could never have Ron back with her, and she accepted it. She had finally accepted Ron's death.

And it felt good.

---

The tell-tale bump had arrived a few weeks earlier. However much she had tried to deny it then, she couldn't anymore. Her once flat stomach was now protruding slightly, and it aggravated her greatly. She now had to actually use the spells which Mrs. Weasley taught her to conceal her stomach. Fred, once she had told him about this, only laughed with Runty.

"What was Miss expecting?" the little house-elf had asked while placing a strawberry smoothie (which was her current craving) in front of her.

"I didn't think it would happen so soon!" she told them.

Runty laughed once more. "I'm surprised you did not start showing earlier," he informed her. "Mistress started showing at exactly three months." (Hermione still did not know who Runty's "Mistress" had been.)

She groaned. "But I don't want to show!" whined Hermione.

"Runty taught Miss many charms and spell," he said.

"I know," she sighed, taking a sip.

Fred took a sip of his own smoothie. "Mum looked like a whale when she was carrying Ron," Fred added. "And then she was like the Titanic with Ginny. I guess it differs. I doubt you'll look like the Titanic. I can see you as the Giant Squid maybe..."

"Why thank you for your words of kindness."

Fred saluted to her as he gulped down the rest of his smoothie.

Hermione glanced up at the clock. "I should really get going to class," she said, sighing once more.

"Want to meet for lunch?"

"I can't," said Hermione, causing Fred's face to fall. "There's a prefect meeting tonight," she explained further. "We still have to select the new passwords; we have to do it at lunch."

Fred pouted. "But you always have lunch with me," he whined, sounding much like a five-year old.

Smiling, Hermione retorted, "Along with breakfast, dinner and any other mealtime I make up to deal with my cravings."

She turned, and was about to leave the kitchen when Runty called her back. "Runty almost forgot to tell Miss that he's arranged for you to met your midwife before Christmas," he told her sheepishly, looking down at his feet. "She was most delighted to hear from me again, and would be happy to help you."

The day could not get any better.

For the first time in a long time, she actually felt good. The nausea she had been experiencing almost never occurred anymore; she could actually eat a full meal and digest it. The only thing that really was bothering her recently was that she had to go to the bathroom once each class.

And people noticed.

Of course, they already knew that she was pregnant and all. Still, it was slightly embarrassing when she had to raise her hand in every class and request to use the lavatory.

This thought, however, could not put a damper on her day. Neither could the other thoughts she had, from reading books that Runty had provided for her, about the other things she would experience during her second trimester. She hummed merrily as she headed for Transfiguration, her first class that sunny morning. She was the first to arrive, and quickly seated herself in her usual seat, the one closest to Professor McGonagall's desk. Even being pregnant could not stop Hermione's love of learning (even if she was starting to forget things often due to the pregnancy).

The rest of her morning classes went as they normally did. Besides the fact that she needed to go to the bathroom during every class, she felt perfectly fine as she walked back to her dormitory for lunch. She quickly deposited her bag (which Runty had somehow charmed to practically carry itself) in her room and went into the Common Room to wait for Blaise Zabini to return from whatever class he had just had. She did not wait long, for he came in just as she was placing an overstuffed pillow underneath her feet.

"I'll be out in one second," he had told her, opening the door to his own room. He came back several minutes later, carrying several pieces of paper in one hand, and two quills in another. He handed her half of the papers, and one of the quills. She was glad it was one that did not need an ink bottle, because she had become prone to knocking those over recently. "I think that we should deal with the Slytherin password first."

She rolled her eyes at this. "Of course, you are a Slytherin."

"You can make it up for all I care," he said, scribbling on the parchment he had in his lap, a book beneath it to act as a table.

"This is not going to get us anywhere," she said impatiently. "You said that last time, and last time you rejected all four of my suggestions!"

"Well, Hermione," he explained, "I think 'Muggle-borns rule' would cause some problems, along with 'Purebloods suck' and 'All hail Muggles.'"

"You forgot 'Harry Potter rocks my socks.'"

She grinned as he gave her a pointed look. Of course, they had eventually decided on picking a random word from the dictionary the last time (well, Hermione thought of it really), "bete noire". From what she gathered, no one really knew what it meant, so no harm done.

It only took them about twenty minutes to come up with the new passwords for the four houses. For Slytherin, they had chosen "vituperation" (they literally had conjured a dictionary this time for random words); Gryffindor got "seriatim"; Hufflepuff received "solarium". Ravenclaw's password, however, took the longest to decide.

"It can't be something big, because people expect the Ravenclaw password to be a difficult word," she debated.

"I don't see why it is important," said Blaise, "If someone is going to take the time to research what the Ravenclaw password is, I don't think a password is going to stop whatever they are planning!"

"But it can't be something obvious," she persisted. "It has to be something silly, like "bowl" or something."

"I don't understand why we are debating this," he replied. "This is a fruitless debate."

Her eyes sparkled. "That's it, "fruitless"," she spoke almost excitedly, like they had found the cure for a tropical disease. "I'm so happy I could kiss you."

Blaise seemed to flush slightly at the comment. "If you really want... I guess," he said quietly, scribbling the password down on his parchment.

"I was only joking, Blaise," she said. "I wouldn't want my Mudblo—"

"Don't insult yourself," he quickly stopped her suddenly, stopping his writing abruptly and looking up at her. They sat in an awkward silence as he stared intently at Hermione. The silence was broken, however, when Blaise said "Would you consider yourself my friend?"

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Hermione furrowed her brow. "What?"

He sighed deeply, setting his quill down gently. "Am I just the Head boy that you have to talk to, or am I actually a friend to you?"

She shifted uncomfortably under his intent stare. "You're just Blaise Zabini," she answered lamely.

His face fell for a moment it seemed, but he suddenly smirked. "Good, I wouldn't want a Mudblood as a friend anyway," he remarked before standing quickly with his parchments and quill in hand and stormed off to his room. He slammed the door so hard the room shook.

Hermione sat questioning this action for a few moments, but rid herself of the thoughts when she realized it would ruin her almost-perfect day. Sighing, she stood, heading back to her room to grab her backpack. Once she swung it over her shoulder, she knew something was wrong. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her, and she was sure that she was about to faint. Of course, dizziness was common during pregnancy, and she had experienced it before. But it had never been so strong to the point of fainting.

So she did the only thing she could think of at the moment. "BLAISE!" she yelled, dropping her bag with a loud thud and leaning against the wall. "BLAISE!"

She heard the door open and heard the frustrated groan Blaise gave. "What now?" he asked impatiently.

"In here," she said as loudly as she could. He came in, and his brown eyes landed on her.

"What's wrong with you?" he inquired, raising an elegant eyebrow.

"I feel so dizzy," she answered. "Call Runty for me, will you?"

"Can't you do it yourself?"

"Just—"

That's when everything went black for Hermione; that's when she fainted, her eyes rolling backwards as Blaise rushed forward to prevent her from falling. He gently laid her on the floor, summoning a pillow to prop her head on. He recalled her saying something about Runty, and knew that it was the house-elf which he had seen helping and advising her. He snapped his fingers and said "Runty!" Almost instantly, a little, blue house-elf appeared with a crack.

"Miss?" he squeaked upon seeing Hermione.

"She fainted," said Blaise.

"That's obvious, sir," said Runty, kneeling beside her. He snapped his fingers, and a bowl of what looked like steaming water appeared, a rag inside. The house elf rung out the rag and gently patted Hermione's face with it. He did this several more times.

"Uh... I'm not an expert, but how is water going to help her?"

"It's not water, sir," the house elf answered. "It's a special vitamin enriched potion that will help Miss become strong once more and wake up."

Blaise pulled out his wand. "Do you want me to revive her?"

He shook his head. "No, sir," he said. "That could harm the child." Blaise watched the elf at work for a few minutes before Runty spoke again. "I request that you go find Mister Fred; he would want to know about this."

Blaise nodded and turned away from the house-elf. He had seen the red-head more than enough since the start of term, and knew that he would probably find him wandering aimlessly near Gryffindor tower. The Weasley, he remembered, was one of the twins who had done many pranks during their time at Hogwarts. Of course, like all, he remembered in specific the time when they had left the school. Even if they were Gryffindors, they sure knew how to go out with a bang. Literally.

Lost in his musings, he arrived at the tower. Afternoon classes would be started soon, and he did not want to be late to his favorite class, Arithmancy. A quick look around told him that the Weasley was not in the tower so he turned to—

Run into Harry sodding Potter. Who did not even seem to be worried that Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin, was wandering around near the entrance to Gryffindor tower.

"Do you know where Weasley is?" he asked. Potter's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Suddenly, Blaise found himself pinned against the wall. "If you're trying to pull a joke," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "That one is even lower than I thought a Slytherin could go."

"I meant the one Hermione has been around lately!"

He raised his eyebrows so high they were almost lost underneath his mess of hair. "You mean Fred?" he asked Blaise. He nodded fervently and Harry, becoming considerably more nicer, released him. "Fred went to manage the store for a few hours; I don't know when he'll be back."

"Well," Blaise said impatiently, turning away. "Tell him Hermione fainted and—"

That was the point in his exit when Potter grabbed his arm to stop him. "What?" he asked worriedly.

Blaise brushed off his arm. "I said that Hermione fainted."

His face suddenly fell, as if his worse fears had been confirmed. "Where is she?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. Potter always had to act the bloody hero, didn't he? Sighing annoyedly, to show the scar-head his impatience, he told him.

"Can you bring me there?"

Was he only capable of asking questions? Seriously. Once again, Blaise sighed in an annoyed fashion before turning around and, without checking to see if Potter was following, headed for his dormitory. They arrived just as the bell rang, signaling five minutes until the start of afternoon classes. Blaise gestured towards Hermione's bedroom and headed for his own so he could pick up his bag and rush to Arithmancy.

He did not want to be in the middle of their reunion, however bad he felt for leaving Hermione in such a state. He felt quite bad for her, having to deal with school and be pregnant. Not to mention the fact that the father of the child she was carrying was dead. Although, Blaise didn't understand why he felt bad for the Mudblood. She had said it herself, he was just Blaise Zabini.

---

Hermione searched all around for a light, but could not find any. She heard her name being called by a familiar voice... someone she knew. But she could not place a name or face to that voice. "Hermione," they called repeatedly in a desperate way. The frantic tone they used told her something must be wrong, but she couldn't open her eyes; she couldn't leave the darkness.

"Hermione, please," they begged. "Just wake up." They sounded almost tearful now. Suddenly, she was released from the darkness. Taking one big gasp of breath, she let her eyes open. Light flooded her view. But the green eyes of the young man standing above her she could make out; those green eyes were unforgettable. It was Harry.

She sat up quickly. "Harry!" she exclaimed. Suddenly, little elf hands were urging her to lie back. She did as Runty requested and found that she was on her bed. How she got there, she could only guess.

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled down at her. "You're awake," he said softly. "What happened to you?"

"I felt really dizzy, like a normal fit I would get," she explained, propping herself up with her pillows. "But this time, everything went black."

"It's not bad to faint," Runty spoke up, handing Hermione a cup of water. Well, it looked like water; it tasted like— "Miss just needs to watch how much stuff she is carrying. Runty did not notice that Miss had added a few books to her knapsack. You need to watch how much you carry, Miss."

Harry looked at the house-elf with an amused look on his face. "Don't worry, Runty," he said, "I'll carry her back for her whenever I can; I'll also be sure she's not carrying too heavy of a load."

Runty smiled at Harry. "Runty appreciates that the Boy-Who-Lived would do that," he thanked.

"Call me Ha—"

Hermione nudged him. She remembered all too well the time she had insisted Runty call her "Hermione." The poor little house elf had started sobbing, dropping to the floor to smack her head against it.

"You're welcome," Harry quickly covered up.

"Runty must go now, Miss," the house elf said, seeming to not notice what had happened. With a crack the house-elf had disappeared.

Harry looked around the room casually as an awkward silence fell over them. After a few minutes, Hermione couldn't take it. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"I'm making sure my best friend is doing all right," he answered nonchalantly. As if the last month of them not even looking at each other had not happened; as if they had not just had the worst fight in the history of their friendship.

"Why didn't you ask me this before?"

He was looking at the pictures she had on her dresser, holding one taken of Harry, Ron and Hermione during the summer, right after they returned from Hogwarts. Due to something that Ron had said, Hermione and Harry were both smiling. Of course, Ron was clueless that what he said was funny and was looking at them like they were insane. Without looking up, Harry answered, "Because I wasn't sure what would come out of my mouth."

"What were you afraid of saying to me?" she continued her inquiry.

He sighed. Something he usually did not do. Usually, he'd groan, or roll his eyes. But this time, he sighed. "I was afraid of telling you it was your fault Ron was gone," he explained, looking at the picture mournfully still. "I didn't want to say that, because I knew it wasn't true." He put the picture down and looked up at Hermione with grief in his green eyes. "I wanted someone to blame, Hermione; I knew I would end up blaming you," he continued. "So I decided it was best to just not talk to you. I didn't know how long it would be before I could again: weeks, months, years. I wanted to blame you, because he died for you. I wanted to scream at you for it," his voice started cracking. "But I couldn't, Hermione," tears filled his eyes. "He loved you and I can't blame you for that."

The tears which had seemed to abandon Hermione a month earlier returned at the site of his green eyes filling with their own tears; at his words of apology.

"I wanted to hate you," he continued as a tear escaped and ran down his cheek. "But I couldn't Hermione, because I love you too much."

Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes. Harry had somehow ended up standing next to her bed; before Hermione could control herself, she was kneeling on her bed with her arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders, hugging him like she never had. Harry's face ended up lost in her bushy hair; his arms wrapped tightly around her, wanting never to let go of her again.

Who knows how long they stayed like that, only that, by the time they had let go of each other, afternoon classes had ended and Blaise had reentered the common room. That was, of course, the reason they initially broke apart. Blaise had come to inform her that he had given the Prefects the new dormitory passwords and told them that they were to go in affect midnight the next day.

Harry helped Hermione off the bed as Blaise returned to his own room. "Do you want to go and find Fred?" he asked her as she put on her shoes.

She shrugged. "He usually finds me," she told him.

Harry smiled. "Fred is taking something serious, is he?"

"Yeah, I think he is," she said, standing up. She linked hands with Harry, grinning as they left the dormitory and headed for Gryffindor tower.

"Do what did your parents say when you told them they were going to be grandparents?" he asked conversationally as they headed up the Grand Staircase.

Hermione groaned. "I told them right after Ron died, and they insist that I do everything the Muggle way," she informed him. "Actually, I'm going to visit them tomorrow," –it was Friday– "They want me to go to the doctor Mum went to when she was carrying me, for a sonogram. They promise they'll pay for it, they just want something that they're familiar with to remember this by."

Harry nodded understandingly and said the password to the Fat Lady ("blubber-fuss"), who swung open after smiling at the two of them. When they entered the Common Room, Hermione felt the sudden warmth and homey feeling she always used to have at Hogwarts. The walls seemed not to betray her anymore. The world seemed to start spinning once more as the pieces of Hermione's life were picked up and put back into place.

She greeted the people she knew, and smiled at the ones she did not. Harry brought her to the boy's dormitory, which was at the top of the tower now, and he took out his Firebolt (which had yet to have a successor faster than it). To Hermione's surprise, however, he had something for her: Ron's old broom.

The Cleansweep which Ron used to ride was still in good condition, Hermione noted as she held it in her hand. But she looked up at Harry, unsure of what she was doing with it. "Let's go for a ride," he said, his eyes sparkling a way Hermione had never seem them, "For Ron."

And so they went to the Quidditch pitch, not knowing and not caring whether or not anyone was there. Even if Hermione was deathly scared of flying (not to mention pregnant), it was for Ron. Whatever kind of closure it was, it was closure for Harry. He needed to accept Ron's death like Hermione had, and this way only seemed right.

---

The next day came with a dense fog covering Hogwart's grounds. A not-too-tall figure walked through it, trying to make it on time for the breakfast he had planned to have with Hermione Granger before they left for her parent's house and a doctor's appointment. Students were used to seeing him by now, and greeted him. Even the professors were glad to see him back at Hogwarts. McGonagall (remembering the Vow he had made) had given him special permission to come any time he found it necessary .

But when Fred Weasley arrived at the kitchen, he found no Hermione. Runty had informed him excitedly that "Miss" had started to eat in the Great Hall. It seemed strange that she would do this when she did not want to eat with anyone, especially when she usually had the strangest craving in the morning. So he headed back upstairs and into the Great Hall. Breakfast was in full swing, and everyone seemed to be there this morning. But through the crowd, he found her.

She was actually smiling, talking to Harry and Ginny animatedly as she spread some butter on her toast. He cocked an eyebrow as he headed for them. "'Ello, Hermione," he greeted as he sat down next to her. "You seemed to have forgotten something this morning."

Her eyes widened and she frowned. "I'm so sorry, Fred," she said sincerely. "When Harry invited me to breakfast earlier this morning I completely forgot!"

He shrugged. "It's okay," he said, "I just hope you didn't forget that we have to go to your parent's house later. I even dressed like a Muggle for the day." He held out his arms and he definitely was dressed like a Muggle: plain jeans, which were slightly baggy, and a black short-sleeved shirt underneath a gray hooded sweatshirt.

"I was wondering if I could take Harry with me instead," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "If you don't mind..."

Fred's face fell. For some reason, he had been looking forward to spending time outside of Hogwarts with Hermione once more. He quickly recovered himself. "I don't mind at all," he lied, standing up. "I might as well get back to the store. George will be quite happy, seeing as I never let him give him anytime to himself. Although, I have no idea what he actually does when he's not at work... maybe that's a good thing." He threw them all a fake grin and winked before leaving the Great Hall and going back out into the thick fog covering the grounds. Fred was happy that Hermione and Harry were friends once more, for he knew that it was good for both of them. But, for some odd reason, he felt a little tug at his heart when he realized she wouldn't need him around as much anymore. Maybe not even at all.

---

"Harry, slow down," panted Hermione as they walked into Hogsmeade, arms linked once more, although Harry was a good step or two in front of Hermione.

He grinned as he slowed down to her pace. "Sorry," he apologized. She nodded in acceptance as they neared the Apparation Point. She made sure she clung onto Harry tight once they reached it, and the scenery changed in front of her as they spun. Suddenly, they were standing in front of her house.

It was a simple brick house with a chimney and two floors (not including the attic which was only storage). The sparkling white door, behind the simple glass one, welcomed Hermione, along with the mat in front of it reading "The Grangers". She smiled as she pulled Harry up the walk.

"This is your house?" he asked, sounding surprised. Harry had not expected this. Although, he wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting.

Hermione nodded as she rang the doorbell. The white door opened to reveal a woman Harry had not seen in a very long time. He could tell that she was very glad to be back in her own home (having been forced to move into another during the summer for safety). She looked more worn, there were several wrinkles around her eyes that had not been there the last time. Her mouth curled upwards upon setting eyes on Hermione and Harry and she hastily opened the glass door separating them. "RICHARD!" she screamed, calling Hermione's father. "SHE'S HERE!"

She rushed to hug Hermione tightly, than turned to Harry. "If it isn't Mr. Harry Potter," she said excitedly, smiling, "I was wondering when I'd see you again."

Harry returned the smile. "It's great to see you again."

Hermione's father came out just then and enveloped Hermione in a short embrace, shaking Harry's hand before inviting them inside the house. They were led into a comfy, but clean, looking living room, and knew Ms. Granger must have liked cleaning just as much as his Aunt Petunia. The large television reminded Harry that it was a Muggle household. They talked casually for a few minutes before Hermione glanced at her watch. "Are you driving us to the doctor's?" she asked. The appointment, Harry remembered, was at twelve that after noon. It was only ten, according the clock Hermione had looked at.

Mr. Granger nodded. "But we won't be coming in with you," he said. "Your mother and I"—oh, they were definitely Hermione's parents—"Are going to go shopping at the stores that are down the street. For baby things, of course."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I thought I was just going to take all that you keep from when I was a baby?" she asked.

"Well, you are," her mother said. "But we want to start stocking up on bottles and other things like that."

Hermione tried to talk her parents out of it, saying that she would buy those things with her own money later. They, of course, told her that even if she spent all of the money she had saved up she would still need more. "Mother, I can use magic if you don't remember," she reminded them. "I can transfigure things and cleans things with magic."

"An excuse to be lazy! No offense to you, Harry," she politely turned to Harry and added.

---

Harry's mind was spinning as they piled into the car. Hermione's family knew how to debate very well, and had gone at it for over an hour. The pros and cons of using magic, and the influence it could have on the baby.

"There is a one in five-hundred chance that my child will not have the ability to use magic," she explained. "And even if they turn out to be non-magical, I want them to know about me. I'm not going to hide who I am from my own child."

Harry wasn't sure whether or not to add his opinion (that physically doing things was a pain in the arse), so he refrained from speaking at all. He wasn't sure whether or not Hermione's parents understood that Hermione having a child was different then them having a child. She wanted to raise it accepting both worlds, and Harry understood that. She had never spoken any narrow-mindedness towards either side, and knew she did not want her child to either. It was her child after all.

It was only five minutes to twelve when they pulled up in front of the doctor's office and let them out of the car. "Her office is on the third floor," her mother said out the window as Hermione kissed her on the cheek. "Don't forget to ask for the sonogram and give them your insurance card."

They went up the elevator, on Harry's insistence, and found the office with no problem. After signing a few papers, and showing them her insurance card, they sat in the waiting room on a very uncomfortable couch.

"You'd think that an obstetrician's office would have more comfortable furniture," he said in a hushed voice, sounding somewhat amused.

"Obstetrician, Harry?"

"You're the pregnant one, so you should know that an obstetrician is a doctor that deals with the care of a woman during pregnancy, birth, and the recovery period afterwards," he answered. It was very strange to Hermione that he seemed to know so much about obstetrics.

"And you know this how?" she asked curiously, raising and eyebrow.

He gave her his best lopsided grin. "That's what a laminated paper hanging in the elevator said."

Hermione couldn't stop herself from laughing out loud. While Harry tried to make her be quiet, for they were gaining many stares from others in the waiting room, a door on the left of the receptionist's desk opened and out came a very friendly looking woman in a white coat, a stethoscope over her neck. "Granger, Hermione Granger?" she called out.

Hermione stood and walked to the woman. She must have noticed Harry wasn't following her and turned back to him. "Harry, come on," she said urgently. He stood unsurely.

"Are you positive you want me in there?" he asked as they walked down a hallway.

"Of course," she answered. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm Doctor Lumley," the obstetrician interrupted politely. Harry thought he heard the traces of an Irish accent. "I'm guessing you're the father." Yep, definitely and Iri—

"No," both Hermione and Harry said at once. "He's gone."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss," she said comfortingly. How she knew that they were saying "gone" in the sense that he was dead was beyond both of them. "It must be very hard, being pregnant without the father."

"I've got Harry," Hermione smiled. "And the father's older brother, Fred, is helping me a lot."

Dr. Lumley smiled sympathetically as she opened a door. "I'm just wondering why you didn't come earlier in the pregnancy," she said as she gestured them inside. "I mean, surely you must have notice something was going on."

Hermione blushed. "I... we had other means of medical care," she answered.

"I see," the doctor was scribbling something onto a clipboard Harry had not noticed her carrying. "You're mother called and wanted to make sure you got a sonogram."

"Actually," said Hermione. "I am only here really for a sonogram. As I said, we have other means of medical care where I live."

"And where would that be?"

"Southeastern Scotland," she answered. "I have a midwife that I am meeting later today, and I already have several appointments set up with a doctor there. I just wanted to make my mum happy and see you like she wanted."

The doctor asked Hermione a few questions about things that have happened to her; how she feels. Harry was relieved when she told about the day before and the bout of dizziness that overcame her and the fainting.

"Fainting can be normal during pregnancy," Dr. Lumley had said. "As long as it isn't happening every single day."

Hermione shook her head. "This was the first time I fainted," she explained. The doctor noted that on her clipboard.

"Now, you were sure to drink lots of liquid before arriving, correct?" To Harry, this seemed like a strange question.

"Yes, I'd really like to use to loo," Hermione joked.

"Well, we need your bladder to be full for the best quality sonogram," she said, opening the door to the room and gesturing for them to follow her. "We keep the ultra-sound machines just across the hall," she explained as she unlocked a door just across the corridor. Hermione went in just as the door opened and sat on the comfy looking examination table. Hermione, unsurprisingly, was very excited. The night before, she had stayed up reading a very interesting Muggle book on sonograms and how they work. Dr. Lumley instructed Hermione to lie backwards. Before Harry could realize what was going on, a machine was turned on, Hermione's shirt was lifted so her stomach was revealed, and the doctor was applying what she said was a "water gel" to Hermione's stomach.

On the screen was a picture that looked nothing like a baby to Harry.

"That's a baby?" exclaimed Harry. The doctor and Hermione both chuckled. It was a typical male reaction to seeing a sonogram.

"Yes, Harry," said Hermione, still giggling, "That's a baby. My baby." Harry gave the young woman an unsure look before looking back at the screen. It was a black screen, with moving images (that did look like anything but a baby) highlighted by white.

"I don't get it," he said. "Where is the baby?" The doctor showed Harry the baby's features with her figure on the screen, but only confused him more. "How is that a nose?"

They ignored his further attempts at getting them to explain where exactly the baby was, and soon the doctor was asking Hermione if she wanted to know her baby's gender.

Hermione bit her bottom lip unsurely and looked at Harry. "I don't know," she said. "What do you think, Harry?"

"I'm still trying to figure out where the baby is," he said as he squnited at the screen once more. "I don't think telling me its sex is going to help me do that."

"I think I'm going to leave it as a surprise," said Hermione once she had made up her mind.

Dr. Lumley printed off a copy of the sonogram for Hermione's parents. She was just about to turn off the machine when--

"I almost forgot! Do you want to listen to your baby's heartbeat?"

Hermione nodded fervently, not needing to think about it. The doctor unplugged the headphones that had been attached to the machine, and the sound of a baby's heartbeat filled the room. It was very rapid, and Hermione's heartbeat was also mixed in, but she could tell which was which.

Already, Hermione had fallen in love with her baby.

---

Harry sat with Hermione as they waited for a taxi to pick them up outside of the building. Hermione wasn't sure if Harry knew about the Unbreakable Vow Fred had made with Ron, and asked him if he had.

"What are you talking about?" he asked curiously, cocking an eyebrow.

She had expected this. It seemed very unlikely that Fred had told him, and she doubted Ginny had any idea of it either. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Harry needed to know about this. So she told him everything, and then some. At first, she just explained the Unbreakable Vow, but, suddenly, she was telling him about everything that had happened since they fought. From the fight with Mrs. Weasley, to the doctor's appointment she had at St. Mungo's. Once she finished, she felt oddly relieved. It was like her probably were no longer as big as they had been. As if telling Harry had been the only remedy she really had ever needed.

Just as she had finished, a yellow taxi pulled up in front of them. Harry smiled at Hermione and opened the door for her. He climbed in behind her as she spoke with the driver. "Southwest Mall," she said. The driver nodded and accelerated quickly. The ride was short, due to the driver's speediness. They paid him the fare, without a tip, and exited the car.

"What are we going to do here?" he asked as they walked in the entrance.

She gave him an incredulous look. "Shop, of course!"

And shop they did. They went into a baby store (several actually, they all just seemed the same to Harry). Each time they came out, Harry was forced to carry another bag or two. "Are we almost done?" he would ask each time, only to receive a look from Hermione like "Of course not!" It was another hour before she admitted to him that her feet were tired and they rested on a bench. Then she decided it was time to go to the bathroom again (because she had already gone several times) and left Harry alone on the bench to watch the world move around him.

If he had tried to do this only a few months earlier, sit and watch the world go by, there would probably have been a few people following him, some good; some bad. With Voldemort gone though, he had found freedom. He could do the normal things that he had never really been able to do. Like sit and relax, with nothing to worry his mind. Of course, he was worried about Hermione and the baby. He didn't mind worrying about Hermione though.

Harry realized he had stopped walking away; he had finally turned around. In that instance, all seemed back to normal; everything was the same as it once had been.

All was right.

---

Author's Note: Yes, that was the longest chapter yet. I believe over seventeen pages long. But it had to be done, because I don't want to go over the limit I set of only ten chapters. I was going to split it into two parts, but I knew that I would not be able to find the time this weekend to post them at seperate times, due to it being my b-day weekend and I'm having a party.

For those who don't already know, this story is for my wonderful beta, and one of my bestest friends, Monica. How's that for Harry characterization? Is he still too harsh? I think that I made him as the comic relief more... hmmm... how about we blame him for that one? ;-)

Three out of ten so far, only seven more to go. I hope you liked that chapter. Leave me your thoughts. :-D

Your Author,

Leii.