Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you to White96, 1991, ciola1701e, bookwormH.M.327, and the Guest who commented on my last chapter. Thank you thank you!

I also want to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I intended for it to be posted on Wednesday but with all the craziness happening with everything going on, if seldom find the time to actually sit down and write.

As always, enjoy!

Early October— Present

Hermione didnt get a blink of sleep. She stayed up, her head resting on Draco's chest. He had fallen asleep hours ago but Hermione was fixated on the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin.

She also started at the window, watching as the stars disappeared into the sky as the sun rose.

Her heart sank when the sun started to rise, and after a moment of willing the sun to stay below the horizon, she pulled herself from the sleeping blond and pushed herself off the bed. Hermione felt around for her knickers nightgown, and robe. She pulled on her knickers and robe, but failed to find her nightgown.

Draco muttered behind Hermione, and the brunette witch's head snapped to find the blond turning over to where she played not moments before, his face pinched.

"Her-ione?" He muttered.

Hermione swallowed and walked over, kissing him on the temple before she turned and walked out the door. She was halfway down the hall when a draft cooled her face and it was then she knew she was crying.

She wiped her face with the back of her had and sniffled. She gave herself a beat before she went back to her room, where Harry and Ron were waiting for her, dressed in their robes and ready to go.

Harry was stuffing a bag with a few potions before turning Hermione.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry whispered.

Hermione nodded, "I'm fine, Harry."

Ron shifted uncomfortably, "You can stay if you want," he said, approaching her slowly, "you dont have to come."

Hermione shook her head. If she stayed, she would have to marry Nott. He wasn't the cruelest, and he wasn't the worst person her grandfather could have chosen, but she needed to do this. She had to see this through.

Hermione had made too many promises.

To the other counties on her side.

To her friends.

And most importantly to her baby.

"I have to come." Hermione said, "I have too."

Ron and Harry gave each other a look before Harry conceited. "We'll turn away while you change."

Ron had already turned his back, rubbing the back of his head. Hermione waisted until Harry followed before she pulled off her robe and quickly changed into something warmer. She cleared her throat when she was finished, and the boys turned back around.

"So," Hermione said, "where are we headed?"

Harry gave a shy smile, the memory of asking Hermione similar questions to long ago returning, "Well, there were rumors from muggles that there was a strange bird flying around a village not far from Godric's Hollow."

Hermione gave a firm nod, "Then off we go."

Ron took Hermione's hand and she took Harry's, who pulled out a small bundle of cloth from his pocket.

"Since we cant apperate— well— because of," Harry looked down to Hermione's stomach, "I got a port key."

Ron used his free hand to open the little bundle and reveal a marble.

"On the count of three then," Ron said, holding out his hand to touch the port key.

"One," Harry said.

"Two," Ron whispered right after.

"Three." Hermione breathed, and just like that, the trio of fiends touched the marble and the room spun around them, pulling them out of the order's hide out to the middle of no where.

It was the Forest of Dean.

"Why are we here?" Hermione whispered, looking around.

Harry scratched the back of his head, "I thought it would be smarter to walk into the village, you know, because of the magic."

Hermione chuckled and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Bloody hell, lets get going then." Ron muttered, grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him towards what might have been the end of the forest.

Hermione shook her head and followed, a smile tugging on her lips.

A pain shot up Hermione's stomach and she paused her moment, grasping her belly, tying to breathe way the sudden onslaught.

"'Mione?" Harry called from beyond the trees, "Are you coming?"

"I am!" Hermione called.

Hermione followed the sound of Ron chattering away about how hungry he was getting, and when Hermione pushed herself out of the forest, a small village was there to greet her, the early morning sun lighting the streets.

"Godric's Hollow is a few miles west," Harry said, pointing away from where the sun was rising, "I was thinking we could get some sleep before we decide to move forward."

Hermione nodded numbly, her eyes glued on the building she could barely see in the distance.

She would have to tell them soon.

She would have to tell Harry soon.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her belly where her child made itself known with a kick.

"Sleep would be nice, Harry," Hermione whispered. She looked up at the sky, the sun hanging high above them.

Harry looked down at Hermione, his brows pulled together in concern, "You okay, Herms?"

Hermione nodded, "Just tired, I guess," she whispered.

Ron muttered, "I bet Ginny what tired too when Harry and I left."

Harry threw up his arms, his face beat red, and shouted, "Oh, come on!"

Hermione snickered under her breath and looped her arm around Harry and Ron's and together they walked to the village, eyes pealed for an inn.

"She's my sister, Harry," Ron said, glaring at the ground.

Hermione scoffed, pulling the boys along faster, the awkward energy hanging over the trio.

Harry asked Hermione to stay back while he and Ron went from inn to inn to find somewhere to stay, and one by one, they all rejected the two boys.

At one point Hermione lowered herself onto the ground and sat against a tree, watching Harry and Ron exit out of yet another in.

The brunette witch could see Harry's rising frustration and Ron's anger reddening his face. Maybe she should have brought the tent. She may be pregnant but she wouldn't mind slipping on the ground until they figured everything out.

Or until the baby decided to come screaming into the world.

It would be cold and snowing, but it wasn't like that they hadn't done it before.

Hermione sighed, rubbing her stomach. She watched Harry and Ron leave another, the last inn that looked as run down as the Leaky Cauldron did. Harry's shoulders were hunched in defeat, his eyes glued to the ground. Ron appeared out the door right after, and he immediately jogged over to Hermione, passing Harry on his way.

"We have to move to another village, 'Mione," Ron said, reaching down to help Hermione up, "The inn's here won't take us, we don't have enough muggle money."

Hermione sighed as Ron pulled her up, her back aching as she found herself on her feet.

"Let's get going then," Hermione said, walking to Harry, who stopped in his tracks when she reached him.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," He whispered.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, "we'll be fine."

Ron came up beside Hermione, throwing his arm around her shoulders, "Yeah, mate, we can keep moving."

Harry sighed, and shrugged, "can you keep moving, Hermione?"

Her body protested, as did the baby in her womb, but she smiled and nodded, "I can."

Harry nodded, but her spirit's seemed to raise his.

Hermione's stomach growled.

Ron laughed.

"That in wouldn't happen to have food, would they?" Hermione asked, her nose scrunched up.

Ron laughed harder and Harry chuckled, "Yeah, Hermione," the-boy-who-lived said, "Lets feed you and my nephew."

"Niece," Ron said, wiping his tears of mirth.

Harry chugged and together they walked towards the in that rejected them. It was Ron who pushed the door open for Hermione who wobbled into the threshold.

The lobby, for lack of a better word, was made of old, rotting wood. The bar, which seemed to also be the front desk, had one patron sitting to the fair left, downing his drink before calling for another.

The barkeep, a skinny, tall man in his late 50's, was wiping down the splintering bar. He looked up briefly before furrowing his brow, "I thought I told you boys we don't have rooms for the likes of you."

Apparently, Hermione thought, he was also an ass.

"We know sir," Harry said, "But we thought we could get something to eat before we move on."

The barkeep-owner sniffed before motioning to the bar. Harry helped Hermione to the bar while Ron read through the menu, ordering what he thought would be the most pregnancy friendly foods.

The barkeep-owner took down their orders and walked into the back room.

"Well, the safest thing to get was fish and chips," Ron whispered, shrugging at Harry's disapproving look, "it was that or a shot of whiskey."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed

In the time it took for Hermione to finally get comfortable in the rickety stool, the barkeep-owner returned with a plump woman of a similar age to the man following close behind.

The waft of fish and chips make Hermione's mouth water. The woman set the plate on the table and gave Hermione, and her stomach, a look before turning to her husband.

"Harold, are these the people you turned away?" she asked.

The barkeep-owner, Harold, shrugged.

The woman walked him with on the back of his head, "She's pregnant you idiot!"

The woman turned to Hermione after a final glare to Harold, "I'm sorry dear, my husband can be thick."

Harold grumbled. Ron and Harry stifled laughs.

"My name is Jane," the woman— Jane— said, "eat up and we'll have a room ready for you three."

Harold opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by another glare from Jane. Jane pulled Harold back into what Hermione assumed was the kitchen, leaving Harry, Ron, the drunkard, and Hermione alone in the front of the room.

"Thank you," Harry whispered to Hermione's stomach before patting the top of it.

Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing, electing to eat a crispy chip instead.

She had finished her plate when Ron had offered some of his fish, claiming to not be as hungry. Hermione took a few chips, before she was full, her baby happy. Hermione stood and stretched, the food reenergizing her for the time being. The stool scratched against the wooden floor startling the drunkard who fell asleep at the bar.

"Damn fire bird," he slurred before he began snoring.

Harry's head snapped towards Hermione and Ron, his eyes wide.

"Fire bird," Hermione muttered, but before one of them had a chance to wake the stranger up to ask further, Jane walked back through the door, key in hand.

"Here you do, dearies," she older woman said, "I'll show you to your rooms."

Harry nodded numbly, his eyes darting back to the sleeping man.

The trio followed the woman after Hermione dug in her pockets to take out some money for the food, slamming it on the bar.

"It's the largest room we have," Jane said while climbing up the stairs, "two beds, but we can bring over a cot if needed."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

A silence fell over them before Ron broke it, "Er— do you know what that man meant by 'fire bird'?" he whispered as though it was a secret.

Jane snorted, "That drunk claims he saw a red bird, on fire, fly through the village two nights ago towards a village a little aways from here. That drunk. He needs to put down the bottle."

"I see," Harry said.

The trio shared a meaning full look.

Jane stopped infant of door 4, unlocking it and handing Hermione the key. "We'll have the cot up soon. Let me know if you need anything."

Hermione nodded and Jane left, leaving the three friends alone in the hallway.

"Let's get some sleep," Harry said, "we'll figure Fawke's out after you get rest."

He eyes Hermione.

She decided gave a shy smile and crawled into the bed farthest from the door. Hermione pulled the drapes shut, whispering spell to stick the fabric to the wall to keep the mid-day sun out. She huddled under the blanket and curled around her middle, her body thankful for the sleep.

Hermione haddnt done anything that day, but her body begged for sleep. For rest.

Justas she was falling asleep she heard Harold enter the room with a cot. Harry pulled in-between Hermione and Ron's beds and soon, they were asleep too.