They both sighed and Hermione felt the tight grip of anxiety loosen from around her chest.
The vial was an inky opaque black indicating the negative. She was not pregnant.
Life was already chaotic and unpredictable as it was; she couldn't remember anything from around four years ago up until waking up in St. Mungo's last week. She hardly needed to add to the shock of finding out that not only was she a small bookshop owner and not the Ministry employee she had been aiming for, but that she was also engaged to George Weasley. Expecting a baby on top of that would have made her emotions a whole lot more complicated and difficult to untangle.
"Are you alright?" Hermione looked up at George from her position in his lap.
"Yeah, I… I thought they would have spotted it at St. Mungo's if you had been – I'm just – It's good to see for sure," he nodded. "I wouldn't want you to be dealing with that without… without me by your side. That would be…"
"Right," Hermione inhaled deeply. George's arm was still at her back and he was pleasantly warm, the smell of fresh shower and something deeper had enveloped her and she held the breath for a moment, resisting the urge to take another large breath. Slowly, delicately, she climbed off and settled just to the side.
Hermione and Daphne hadn't even had the chance to have the tea and croissants that she had laid out earlier; it seemed like that had been ages ago, with Daphne asking to be let in and carrying the bag all the way from Paris because it was Daphne, but in reality it had only been perhaps twenty minutes or half an hour.
"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked George, nodding at the tea service, and he laughed lightly.
"Things were a little chaotic this morning, hmm? Ah, well, that tends to happen when Daphne's around," he reached for a croissant.
The pair sat at opposite ends of the green sofa for seconds, minutes – maybe hours. Crookshanks appeared when Hermione was licking the chocolate smudges off her fingertips and about to reach for a mug of tea. He hopped up slowly, much slower than she remembered him ever being, and brushed against her knee before kneading George's thigh with is front paws.
"'Lo, Beast," the ginger man scratched behind the half-kneazles ears familiarly and Hermione paused to watch the exchange. Since third year, Hermione had learned to put quite a bit of trust into how Crookshanks treated people.
George offered a small flake of pastry to the similar-haired feline and Hermione watched as Crooks retrieved it from the end of George's finger and made a production of licking his lips after devouring it. When her familiar finally settled, he curled up so that his back leant into George's leg comfortably.
Hermione didn't know what to say. Not about Crookshanks, not about the situation, not about anything. What could she possibly fill the silence with?
"I'm sure Harry's already told you, but no one will be upset if you stay home tonight. A lot of people will be at the Burrow and it's completely understandable if you -"
"I'll – I'll be there," Hermione interjected. "It's not going to do me any good to put it off forever."
"Not forever," George agreed. "But everyone at once?"
"I'll be fine," Hermione voiced, her heart thumping heavily in her chest.
Would she?
"Hmm," George gave her the subtle side eye.
It had to happen some time. A thought occurred to Hermione suddenly.
"Where is my shop? I haven't seen it yet and I've been wondering…"
"It's downstairs," George laughed. "You, uhm, you bought the building actually, when you decided to leave the Ministry. So all of this is yours."
"I bought a building?"
"Yeah, you were so concerned it was ostentatious – that's one of your very favourite words, by the way – but once you got over telling people you'd actually outright bought the place, you calmed down a bit."
"So it's… It's downstairs?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest to ignore the way George's face softened around the edges for a moment, his freckles shifting just a fraction.
Several moments later, he was showing her the way down the wooden steps just outside her front door, shiny and polished and smooth from age and wear. The summer sun was streaming through the front bay window and the air was hot and stifling in the July heat, catching in Hermione's throat at the slightest inhale. The brushing of George's jeans sounded wider somehow before the clicking of a heavy lock grabbed her attention. As George pulled the door open, a chime jingled from somewhere above; the metallic tinkling started up by the front door and trickled all the way to the back and out of sight.
Considering the apartment she had been passively observing over the last day, the layout of the shop was quite similar – or perhaps the better assessment was the proportions were the same. The store front was small and allowed for the front door and somewhat squished looking bay windows on either side.
Hermione followed George hesitantly through the front door, down the two small stone steps and out into the world outside her apartment.
With a shock, she realized that she had never asked where home was for this Hermione. With a perplexed look, gazed up and down the familiar High Street of Hogsmeade. The top turrets of Ravenclaw and the North Tower could be seen over the treetops and rugged terrain nearby, Hogwarts peeking over at them from a distance. The tiny wizarding village spread out around her and she looked back.
The storefront was painted black, the windows gleaming in the sunlight. Gold lettering denoted the name.
Hunter and Hare, Books Fine and Rare.
There was an illustration of a hare, possibly from a children's book, on one front window in the same gold as the shop name above and Hermione stared at it in awe.
This was hers?
"Remus has been running interference for the last week, answering mail and filling owl orders as best he can," George sidestepped Hermione with his hands in his pockets as she reached out to touch the deep golden shimmer of the hare on the window. Just behind the glass was a dark leather chair, deep and comfortable-looking.
"He has?"
There was a distant noise and George looked over her shoulder down the hill.
"My!"
Hermione turned to see a small human barrelling up the street toward them, hair a perfect match to the shade of cerulean above their heads.
"My!" he shouted again, trainers thumping hard against the cobblestone.
"He's calling you, by the way; you're his favourite," George commented and Hermione's eyebrows pulled together for a moment before she saw Remus Lupin following the little boy up the hill and realized –
"Teddy?"
"Auntie Mi!" the little boy launched himself at her midsection, fearless and completely confident that she would catch and hold him.
Hi!
Hopefully you're all enjoying lovely holidays right now, and a little fanfiction update was just what you were hoping for.
I ended up sending out 143 Christmas cards to tumblr followers this year, which was totally amazing and really exciting and brought me a lot of joy. If you didn't get the chance to participate this year, look out for it next year because I'm certain I will be doing the same thing again. :)
I hope to get at least one more chapter of this out for the holidays, with plenty of new details and tidbits in it for you who are really interested to find out Hermione's story with her as she deals with this upheaval in her life.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Leave a review.
Cheers!
