A/N: Thanks to those that continue to read. I'm curious to know how many are reading for the Harry/Hermione shipping and how many for the Scorpius/Rose. Maybe some of you are reading for both. Anyway, I hope you all continue to enjoy the story. I'm having fun writing it.
The last few days had dragged by slowly for Hermione. She forced herself to go through the monotonous motions of her usual routine despite the intense feelings of despair that clouded over her. She'd kept herself together for the most part, but she wasn't sure how many more hits she could take.
To distract from her crumbling marriage, Hermione had used her usual coping mechanism of throwing herself completely into work. Each evening she brought home a new stack of paperwork that she reviewed well into the early hours of morning under the dim light from her bedside lamp. Keeping busy helped to some extent, but when she closed her eyes to fall asleep, she was always reminded that she was alone.
Much to her surprise, Ron had come by one evening to have supper with the Rose and Hugo. Hermione had been relieved that he'd made contact and wasn't shutting himself away like he had the last time, but the few hours he'd spent with them had felt different. Hermione had experienced a gut wrenching moment when instead of letting himself in, Ron waited for Hugo to open the door, making it official that their house was no longer his home.
Ron had been kind to Hermione during his visit, almost uncomfortably so. He'd asked how things were going at the Ministry and how the kids had been holding up without him. When he noticed her yawning several times during supper, he'd expressed worry that she wasn't sleeping while the two of them cleared the table. Hermione wanted to tell him that if he'd just come home she wouldn't be up all night riddled with anxiety about what the future had in store. Instead she'd said she was doing fine and that it was sweet for him to be concerned, but she and the kids were managing well enough without him. It was true to some degree.
On the rare occasion that Hugo was at home, he spent his time cooped up in his room, only emerging during meal times. He and Lily saw one another everyday, but he refused to go to the Potter household and instead insisted on meeting her at the Burrow. Although Hugo had never explicitly stated it, Hermione knew he blamed his Uncle Harry for Ron having moved out. Hugo sometimes was more like his father than she cared to admit.
The only good thing that had come about from Ron's departure was Hermione's mended relationship with her daughter. Rose's attitude towards her had completely changed, and suddenly the young teen had become overly protective of her fragile mother. She was helping around the house, doing laundry and washing dishes, and was being more considerate too. She'd been spending the last few evenings at home with Hermione, almost as though she were afraid to leave her alone. It was sweet, Rose being so worried about her. It was a side of her daughter she'd never seen before, and one that she very much liked.
Outside of the few hours each evening she spent with Rose and her time spent at work, Hermione's social life was non-existent. She'd silenced her cellphone, sick of getting check-in messages from her mum, and she'd ignored the few letters she'd received from Luna asking her to meet up for a drink.
Hermione didn't see anyone outside of her children and coworkers for several days until she was out and about for a rare coffee break one afternoon. She managed to sneak away from her office to a muggle coffee house not far from the Ministry that she'd discovered earlier that summer.
Hermione sat near the window, watching busy Londoners rush around while she sipped on an Americano. As she reached in her bag for a book, she paused, experiencing the peculiar sensation of someone watching her. She turned her head to the side and saw Molly Weasley slowly approach her. She was holding a coffee cup and looking down at her with an uncertain smile.
"Molly, hi," Hermione said with a high voice, startled to see her mother-in-law in the Westminster area.
"Hello, dear," the older woman replied, making herself comfortable in the empty chair across from her. "Your assistant told me I might find you here. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."
"Not at all," Hermione said offhandedly, feeling her heart rapidly drumming against her chest.
"I got your owl about Rosie's birthday. I think it will be nice to get the family together," Molly said, and then with a heavy exhale added, "It's been awhile."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, subconsciously picking at the label on her disposal coffee cup. "It certainly has."
Molly leaned back in her chair, and as she always did, she looked her daughter-in-law once up and down. Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably as the older woman's eyes scanned over her for any sign of an ailment.
"You haven't been eating," Molly observed, picking out what was blatant.
Normally Hermione would object and retort that her eating habits were perfectly fine, but she didn't have it in her to continue to hide the obvious. The truth was, just like she wasn't sleeping, she wasn't eating either. She hadn't been able to stomach much without feeling as though it were about to come right back up.
"Not particularly well, no," she answered honestly.
Molly brought her coffee cup to her lips, taking a small sip as she continued to look at Hermione.
"Hugo told me that Ron moved out," she said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "Is it true?"
Hermione sighed and ran her hand through her long wavy hair. Of course Ron hadn't told his mum about their separation and had allowed his son to accidentally break the news. She could only imagine how the rest of the family would be finding out.
"Yes," Hermione reluctantly replied, watching Molly's eyes swell with grief. "He left the other morning."
The older witch's shoulders dropped at the confirmation of the news, and she rested her trembling hand on the corner of her mouth.
"You need to talk to him. Make him come home."
"Molly... "
"You cannot let your family fall apart," she said desperately. "The longer he stays away, the less likely he is to come back."
"Don't you think I know that?" Hermione asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. Why was it always up to her to make Ron see reason?
"Don't tell me you don't care," Molly said sharply, her eyes narrowing.
"Of course I care," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms defensively. Remembering they were in public, and not wanting to draw attention, she lowered her voice. "He's a grown man. I'm not going to force him to be with me."
"Oh, he doesn't know what he wants," Molly said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. "Think about how long it took him to realize he wanted you." She paused, giving the younger witch a meaningful look. "You can reason with him. You've always been able too."
Hermione could see the distress in Molly, and for the first time, she noticed that the she too appeared exhausted. Looking at the dark sunken half circles under Molly's eyes, it was clear to Hermione that she hadn't been coping well these last few weeks either.
"I already tried," Hermione said gently, feeling sorry that she'd caused her mother-in-law so much concern. "He's made up his mind, at least for now."
Hermione watched as Molly suppressed a well of tears building in her glassy eyes.
"I don't like this," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I'm worried about the two of you, and Harry and Ginny."
"I am too," Hermione admitted quietly, allowing her gaze to drop to the table.
Molly looked at her regretfully, and her mouth curved into a slight frown.
"I owe you an apology," she began sheepishly. "I wasn't exactly thrilled with what was written about you and Harry in The Prophet, nor with anything that's been written since, and I'm terribly sorry about any anger I felt in those first few days that I misdirected at you." Molly paused, and then smile sadly as she reached out to squeeze Hermione's hand with her own. "I want you to know that no matter what's going on between you and Ron, I'll always consider you my daughter."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, gratitude swelling inside her. She had not expected that.
"Are you handling this all okay?" Molly inquired with a seriousnesses. "And don't you dare lie to me."
Hermione smiled weakly.
"It's been hard, but I'm taking it day by day."
"You'll call if you need anything?"Molly asked. "Not matter how big or small?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Of course."
"I'll get out of your hair then," Molly said, standing and then pushing in her chair under the table. "Let me know what I can bring for Rosie's birthday. I don't want you running yourself ragged trying to do everything yourself."
"I will," Hermione said softly. "Thanks."
...
June 26th - 1999
The Three Broomsticks was packed with students who'd flocked to Hogsmeade after finishing the last of their year end exams. A large group of Gryffindors gathered around two long rectangular tables, merrily sipping on butter beer as they discussed their future plans. Hermione was seated amongst the group, holding a half empty mug in her hand while she scanned the room for her friend.
After weeks of long days and many disciplined study sessions for the N.E.W.T.s, Ginny had convinced Hermione to come out and celebrate the end of their formal education. Hermione had been reluctant to join. She had been one of the few individuals from her original year that had come back to Hogwarts after the war. Even though she knew many of the students in the year below her, she never really felt like she fit in. Hermione was glad she returned to complete her education, but Hogwarts hadn't been the same without Ron and Harry. The entire year she'd been counting down the days until she graduated, ready to put that phase of her life behind her.
Ginny appeared at her side, setting a tray of assorted overfilled drinks down on the table before sitting next to her.
"Alright," she said with a mischievous grin, placing a full shot glass in front Hermione. "We need to kick things up a notch."
"No way." Hermione turned up her nose in protest, pushing the small glass away from her.
"Please! For me."
"Nope."
"Come on, Hermione," Ginny begged, jokingly batting her eyelashes. "Can you just be fun for once in your life?"
"Really?" Hermione gave the redhead a pointed look. "You think peer pressure is going to work? Do you even know me at all?"
Ginny tossed her own shot back, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her jumper. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she grabbed a full mug of butter beer.
"Would it make a difference if I told you I invited our boyfriends to join us?"
"You didn't..." Hermione's eyes widened.
"Oh, I did," Ginny said, pushing Hermione's shot glass back towards her.
"Give me that."
Hermione picked up the tiny glass that was brimming with a syrupy brown liquid and quickly gulped it down. It burned in her throat, and for a second, she was worried it was about to come back up, but a drink from her beer helped wash it down. Ginny chuckled and gave her a small pat on the back.
"You're a champ."
"Why would you invite him?" Hermione whispered, unsure if she was angry or excited to see her boyfriend. "You know we're arguing."
She and Ron had gotten into it last weekend while talking over the Floo connection. She'd told him several times that she did not have time to meet up with him at Hogsmeade, and certainly not so the two of them could have a quickie inside the Shrieking Shack. He complained that she'd already studied enough to more than secure an Exceeding in all her classes, but despite his pleas, she hadn't changed her mind. As much as she missed him, she'd been in the middle of exams and argued that she'd be distracted the entire time if they got together. She'd assured him that there would be plenty of time for them to be together over the summer, but he'd angrily pulled his head out of the fire, and she hadn't heard from him since. She hated how explosive his temperament could sometimes be.
"Its high time you crazy kids make up, just like you always do," Ginny teased.
Hermione opened her mouth to snark back at her friend, but became distracted as she saw the two boys walk into the pub and immediately spot them. She sank into her chair as they approached the table.
The four of them greeted one another briefly. Harry kissed Ginny lightly on the lips before settling on the stool next to her, taking one of the beers on the tray for himself. Ron shifted awkwardly next to Ginny, before sucking in a deep breath and taking the empty seat beside Hermione.
"Here's to the two smartest witches in the Hogwarts Class of 1999," Harry cheered, raising his glass mug in the air.
"Don't you mean in all the world?" Ginny teased, crashing her drink clumsily against his.
Hermione took a large gulp of her butter beer, casting a side glance at Ron through the corner of her eye just in time to see him do the same. She quickly looked away, but a second later she felt his hand tug at her arm.
"Can we go to another table for a minute?" Ron asked.
Hermione agreed with a nod, and allowed him to lead her away to two stools at the bar.
Ron wasted no time, and immediately began profusely apologizing. He told her he was sorry he'd been so pushy, and that he'd found the entire year, which they'd mostly spent apart, harder than he cared to admit. He missed her, that was all, and he didn't mean to make her feel like her studies weren't important.
Although Hermione was peeved that her boyfriend was still resorting to temper tantrums when things didn't go his way, she forgave him. It was an evening that should be filled with celebration, after all. Any issues they had could be worked out later on, and she really had missed him.
The couple rejoined their friends, and Ginny was quick to hand out another round of shots. The four teens continued to drink as they reminisced about their favorite school memories. Ginny had earned herself a kick in the shin from Ron when she'd said she'd always cherish the time he'd been rejected after asking Fleur, his now sister-in-law, to the Yule Ball. As Hermione laughed at her embarrassed boyfriend, she realized she was starting to feel tingly, and her vision had started to blur.
It wasn't long after that while on her way to the loo, Hermione clumsily walked into another table and shattered several drinks that toppled over.
"Woah," Harry said, setting down the glass of fire whiskey he'd just ordered and grabbing hold of his friend to steady her. "You okay?"
"I think... I think I need some air," Hermione said, more to herself than to Harry.
Before Harry could respond, Hermione took off towards the door, bumping in to several others on her way out.
"Wait!" Harry called as he hurried after her. He knew she was in no state to be out on her own.
He caught up with her a few steps outside The Three Broomsticks, stumbling down the cozy village road and humming a familiar muggle tune.
"I think we should get you home," Harry said, gently putting a hand on her forearm, attempting to steer her back to the pub.
"Nooooo," Hermione protested with a mild slur, pushing his hand away. "I just need some air. I'm not ready to leave yet."
"I know, but I think if you stay there's a very good chance you'll end up kneeling in front of a toilet in the women's loo," Harry reasoned.
"Oh come on," Hermione said as she continued to walk, stumbling into Harry's shoulder. "I'm not even drunk."
Harry couldn't hold in his laughter.
"Hermione, you're sloshed."
"Am I really?"
"Yes, really," Harry replied with an affectionate smile as he watched her brow crease with bemusement.
Hermione turned away from him and continued down the road. Harry followed her, wondering where she was leading him. She turned into a quaint park, taking a seat on an old swing set.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, concerned that she would topple onto the ground.
"I just wanted to sit for a minute."
Harry sat on the swing next to her, lightly kicking off the ground to propel himself forward. He looked over to Hermione, notice she was staring up into the sky.
"So... you and Ron made up," Harry observed, making conversation about the first thing that came to mind.
Hermione turned her head towards him.
"He told you about the fight?"
"No, but it's not hard to tell whenever you two are rowing," Harry replied with a shrug. "Not when I've known you both so long."
"Aren't you observant," Hermione muttered softly before answering, "Yes, Ron and I are good."
"Yeah, I bet you are," Harry said with a small smirk.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't think for a second I didn't notice his hand creeping up your thigh under the table," he replied, causing embarrassment to flood to her cheek. "You must really be drunk, because the Hermione I know would never allow that."
"Oh, shut up!" She shoved him playfully on the arm, almost falling off her seat. "As if you're so innocent."
"No, but at least I'm much more discreet."
Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, leaning her head back to feel the cool air against her face. Harry watched her long, curly hair fall behind her, and the sleeve of her shirt dropped below her shoulder, revealing her collarbone. Harry felt a jolt rush through him, remembering that his mouth had once trailed over her skin in that exact spot.
"Can I ask you something you'd never normally allow me to?" He said without really thinking through what he'd ask her.
"Anything," she replied dazedly.
Harry hesitated, not entirely sure if it was a good idea to broach the subject.
"Nevermind."
"No," Hermione said, sitting upright in the swing. "What were you going to say?"
"It's not important."
"Cooome on," she whined, swaying back and forth slightly on her seat. "You already pointed out that I'm plastered. It's not likely I'll even remember anything we talk about anyway."
Harry seemed to consider this for a moment, giving her an earnest look.
"What would you have done," he began nervously. "Last year if you hadn't lost..." He trailed off, giving her an uncomfortable glance.
Hermione appeared almost sober for a moment, staring at Harry with awe. It hadn't been lost on her that the one year mark of her hospital stay was marked at the beginning of the month. It had distracted her numerous times throughout her exams period.
"I don't know..." she quietly answered, a deep wrinkle forming on her forehead.
"What do you think would have happened if you'd had it?" Harry gently nudged, wanting to hear more. They'd never talked about it. It was always something she skirted around.
"I suppose I'd be a teenage mother," Hermione mused softly. She leaned back and stared up at the stars in the dark sky. "I probably wouldn't have finished Hogwarts, and I'd likely have gotten fat eventually." She exhaled lightly. "My parents would have had a fit. Dad probably would have tried to kill you."
"Wouldn't that be something," Harry said with a small laugh. "I survive the most feared wizard in history only to be brought down by the angry father of the girl I accidentally impregnated."
"It would sure be an interesting twist for the history books," she agreed with a smile.
Harry continued to watch Hermione, realizing just then how much he'd truly missed her since he'd last seen her during Easter holidays. Going months without talking had sure been a change of pace from what seemed like endless days spent together in the tent. As twisted as it were, he felt a longing for those secluded days alone with her.
"Do you think we'd be raising the baby together?" He asked after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper and his gaze cast towards the street lights.
"Like, together, together?" Hermione clarified, finally a hint of discomfort straining in her words.
"Yeah, sure," Harry answered casually, hoping he hadn't pushed his luck too far.
"Would you have wanted that?"
"Uhh," he fumbled, before lamely saying, "I mean, only if you wanted me to want that."
Hermione said nothing, and Harry thought she'd decided to ignore him until he heard her sigh softly.
"I don't think I would have. I'd never want to be with someone who was in love with someone else."
"Oh," Harry said flatly, remembering Ron and Ginny. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "Yeah, me neither."
"I went to Godric's Hallow," Hermione stated after a brief lull. "I laid some flowers down."
Harry was taken aback. Never once had she ever spoken to him about the tiny grave.
"I'll have to go back soon too," he replied, noting that he hadn't been to cemetery to see his parents for several months.
Hermione gave Harry a brief smile and then slowly stood, looking down at him with a pained expression.
"I would have kept it, you know," she said quietly. "Even though I wasn't ready. She was still mine."
"She?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "She."
Harry's mouth went dry. He'd never known the sex of their lost baby, and he had no idea something like that were even possible. He didn't know much about pregnancy or child birth, and he'd always figured it had been far too early to have a detail like that.
He wanted to ask more, to find out what else could have been, but Hermione began walking back towards the road.
"We should get back."