Disclaimer: All the people belong to JK Rowling.

A cold wind blew heavily down Diagon Alley, shaking shutters and blowing loose papers down the street. Diagon Alley was not crowded; people did not want to shop with it being this cold and windy. Hermione felt as though the cold wind was still wiping about her, even though she was inside. She pulled her robe closer to her.

He's not going to come. You know he's not so don't get your hopes up. He's not going to come. She repeated it in her mind, thinking that maybe if she said it enough she would not be hurt when he didn't come. The toddler next to her, who was only three years old, began to stir in her sleep. Hermione pulled the toddler's knit hat down and tied it below her chin. The door opened, and Hermione shot straight up. It was some old witch, straggling in with her large packages.

Don't you dare look up. You know it is not he. He is not coming. He is not coming. The door opened again. Hermione could not help it and she turned slowly to see who it was.

He was standing in the doorway, his face red from the harsh wind outside. Hermione stared awestruck at him. Though he had not changed in the three years since she had seen him, staring at a picture and staring at the real person were to totally different things. He walked across the room and sat down across from her.

"Th-thanks for coming. It real-ly means a lot to me." She stuttered faintly. Whyare youstuttering?You know what you want to say! Why didn't you bring the note cards?

"I dint come for you." Ron muttered coldly, "I came for Jeffery."

"Right, er, Ron I-I came he-re to tell you why-why I left." Hermione said looking down at her lap, pulling on a loose thread. Stop with the bloody stuttering!

Ron saw the toddler who was sleeping next to her. "Who's that?" Ron asked loudly.

Ron's loud questioning awoke the toddler and she began to cry. Hermione picked her up and set her in her lap. "It's ok. Don't cry sweetie." Hermione cooed. The toddler stopped cry and grabbed Hermione's finger, falling back asleep. "She's Destiny. But, er, I'll explain that more later."

"Right," Ron said going back to his cold manner.He watched as Hermione squirmed in the seat, pulling at that loose thread again.

"Do you remember Greg?" Hermione asked, starting the conversation.

"No." Ron replied.

"Yes you do. He worked with me?" Hermione asked again.

"How should I remember someone who worked with you." Ron said staring fixedly at the table in front of him.

"Ron, you know him." "Hermione cried desperately.

"No, I don't" Ron said, stressing each word. "Why is it so important anyway?"

Hermione was now very interested in the loose thread of her skirt. She was sure that her whole skirt would be loose thread by the time she was done with this. Her vision was being blurred. She blinked away the tears that were falling. Take a deep breath. Put you palms over your eyes. Look down. You've cried so many times, you know what to do. Deep breathes. Great, now he thinks I'm a crybaby like Cho. Hermione looked up; her eyes were now lightly red. She took deep shuddering breaths. " Ron, Greg raped me."

"Where are we going?" Jeffery asked as he and Ginny walked briskly against the harsh wind.

"Shopping." Ginny replied shortly.

"Why?" Jeffery asked looking up at his aunt with his big blue eyes.

"Because your daddy asked me too." Ginny replied. She tightened her grip on Jeffery's hand as the turned sharply into a store. Ginny looked over the robes, feeling the material between her fingers.

"Why did Daddy ask you to take me shopping?" Jeffery asked, "and where are we?"

"Madame Malkins." Ginny said. Then she sighed and felt bad getting annoyed with Jeffery. She bent down to Jeffery's level. "Look, Jeffery. I'm sorry that I have been a little bit mean to you. I'm just having a bad day."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you having a bad day?

"Because!" Ginny started harshly, "Because" she repeated in a strained voice. "Because I saw my ex boyfriend with another girl today."

"Why was he with another girl?"

"I don't know." Ginny grabbed Jeffery's hand and took him to another shop.

Jeffery gasped. "Uncle Fred and George's shop!" Jeffery ran in and played with all the numerous prank objects. Ginny smiled happily, knowing that this would keep him occupied for a long time.

"I'm bored." Jeffery said ten minutes later.

"No, no you're not." Ginny said staring at Jeffery. "What five year old boy would not like this place?"

"Me." Jeffery stated. "I'm hungry."

"Ok, we'll go get ice cream." Ginny said. She grabbed her bag and began to walk to the door. She turned around to see that Jeffrey had not only followed her but was standing there shaking his head. "What?"

"It's to cold for ice cream. I want Leaky Cauldron!" Jeffery exclaimed.

"No, we can go eat at grandma and grandpa's house." Ginny said. She grabbed Jeffery's hand.

Jeffery pulled it away, "NO! Leaky Caldron!"

"No, grandma and grandpa's house."

"Leaky cauldron." Ginny grabbed for his hand again but Jeffery was running out of the store.

"Jeffery come back!" Ginny yelled running after him. But it was no avail, seeing as how the wind muffled her voice. The wind wiped at her, blowing hair in her face. By the time she had pushed the hair away, Jeffery was gone from her site.

Hermione at cross-legged on her sofa. There, it hadn't been that hard had it? Well, you did leave before you even told him anything. True, but you did tell him that you had been raped. But you didn't tell him when or how or anything and you especially didn't get a chance to talk about Destiny.

Thinking of Destiny, Hermione got up off of the sofa and walked to her daughter's room. She stood in the doorway, watching as Destiny took deep steady breaths, her chest rising and falling. Hermione quietly crept across the room. She pushed a red lock of hair out of Destiny's face. It was so peaceful in her room. Hermione quietly walked out of the room.

Her flat had changed. It was cold and there was a heavy feeling of hate hanging in the room. She walked into the living room softly, listening to see of anyone was in the house.

It was sitting there on the coffee table gleaming with loath. Nothing around it had moved. The daily paper hadn't move even a centimeter and the coffee and the mug still stood still. Hermione tentatively made her way to the coffee table. Hermione picked up the small piece of paper that sat directly in the middle of the table.

Soon Mudblood. Very soon.

And then somewhere from the depths of her flat, came the very distinct cry of Destiny.

A/N: Italics are Hermione's thoughts and bold is the letter.