Every single person at the table remained completely quiet as Hermione stared unwaveringly at her plate. Seconds ticked slowly by before finally, with a sigh, she summoned enough courage and glanced up. Ginny was looking at her with her eyebrows raised almost all the way to her hairline and a large, though somewhat confused, smile gracing her flawless features, George was just staring with his mouth ajar, and Fred looked downright flabbergasted.

It wasn't until Hermione -who was more than slightly annoyed with the lack of conversation by this point- looked to her best friends for support that she realized both Harry and Ron were poking at her stomach obnoxiously. Her brown eyes widened comically at their stupidity.

"What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?!" she shouted, slapping their hands away with a fierce scowl. This outburst finally seemed to break the long withstanding silence once and for all.

"Well, excuse us Hermione, but you don't exactly look pregnant! I mean, you're bloody gorgeous!" Ron held his hands up defensively as irritation swelled up inside of her at his antics causing Hermione to unconsciously reach for her wand.

She pursed her lips in aggravation at them, "Ronald Weasley, it has been two years since I've had my child. Do you honestly think I'd still be waddling around like a bloated whale?" Then, she turned her accusation on to Harry, "And you! All powerful and mighty Harry Potter! Are you that dim? Honestly!"

The rest of the Weasley's watched in absolute amusement as the boy who single-handedly obliterated Lord Voldemort at the age of seventeen backed down from the fuming temper of know-it-all Granger.

"Well, it's not as if you gave us the time of your pregnancy! Christ, you said you got pregnant! Not when," Harry fumbled, trying to relieve her anger in any way that he could think of, "By the way, you look absolutely beautiful for a mother."

Much to his poor luck, this had Mrs. Weasley red-faced and glaring at the twenty one-year-old, "What exactly does that mean, Mr. Potter? Huh? Not all mothers can be as breathtaking as our Hermione? Well, thank you for that boost to my ego, young man."

In a lousy effort to help Harry, George muttered hastily, "Now, now Mum. That's not what he meant, is it Harry?"

The boy in question abruptly shook his head in the negative, "Not at all, Mrs. Weasley. I simply meant that . . ," he branched off in his argument, looking around the room for any clue as to what he could possibly say.

"Harry simply meant that not every mother is as blessed as you and Hermione are, Mum. Not many can keep their shining beauty after the nine-month-long pain and effort of carrying a child," Ginny said, smiling widely at her mother and knowing very well that she was the woman's pride and joy, and therefore her weakness.

Molly's glares and fuming stopped after a few more words in agreement from all around the table, "Oh! Well, I'm so sorry for my overreaction, dear," she reassured, smiling merrily at Harry who simply nodded with wide eyes, "So where were we?"

"I believe Hermione was about to castrate these two fine gentlemen," Fred supplied with a wicked grin.

Ron and Harry both turned sheepishly to their friend. With a shrug, now all steamed out, Hermione shook her head, "Its fine." Both lads blew sighs of relief.

"So, tell us about them!" Ginny prodded impatiently, obviously referring to the baby, "Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"Name?"

"James Harrison Granger," Hermione announced proudly while looking directly at Harry. He was staring at her with glazed eyes as if piecing things together in his mind. Finally, a humongous grin spread across his face.

"You named your son after me?" he questioned in amazement as he absolutely bubbled with excitement at the very idea of his best friend, though absent from his life for a few years, named her child in honor of him. That she had never forgotten about him.

Hermione smiled gently at his adorable reaction, "After your father and yourself, yes. I mean, his middle name is not exactly your name. But the roots are there, and your middle name is James, too."

Two sighs of adoration were heard from Ginny and Molly, while George watched on, completely amused, as Fred's face turned a shade pinker than normal. It was obvious to his twin that jealousy was boiling beneath the surface, just waiting to burst.

Harry jumped out of his seat and swept his friend into a bone-crushing hug. "You haven't the slightest idea how much this means to me, Hermione."

"I was hoping it would mean a lot," she chuckled, embracing him back. Over his shoulder she smiled and winked at Ron, who immediately returned the gesture.

"Not to break up this love fest," George intervened, "But, where is the little tyke right now?"

Harry released Hermione, but they both remained grinning, "Oh! James is staying with his grandparents."

Ron's face clouded with confusion, "But-"

"Yes, I know. My parents are dead, genius. Ronald, James' father also had parents. It's shocking, I know," Hermione laughed, shaking her head into Harry's shoulder at Ron's dimwitted antics.

Ginny caught onto the perfect timing to ask more about the father, "Where's James' dad, now? Are you still together?" It had been confusing her since the topic arose minutes ago, how, at times, Hermione would speak as if the whole incident had happened in an entirely different lifetime.

Hermione and Harry took their seats again with Ron shaking his head at their previous display and Harry muttering for him to "sod off." Fred still appeared livid and George was just watching the three friends with mindful interest.

"Ginny's got the right idea. You haven't given us much to go on about the man," Molly added.

"Jayden was my opposite, to be honest," Hermione looked across the table at Fred, "He was sort of a rebel at his school. From what his parents and he always told me, at least. He had brilliant green eyes. He reminded me so much of Harry." She paused for a moment to smile at her friends, "I guess it was my mind's silent prompt that I missed these two mischief-makers more than I ever thought I would."

Ginny was leaning toward Hermione, engrossed in the tale, "Were you two in love?"

This immediately dried Hermione's happy reminiscing, "We were. But, of course, this world's never really wanted me happy. Has it?"

Everyone, except Harry and Ron, blanched at this. No one knew where she would get such a silly idea. "Now, that's not true, dear, and you shouldn't go around with those pessimistic thoughts," Molly said and shook her head sadly at the young witch.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply to Mrs. Weasley, but Ron interrupted, "She's always thought like that, though. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded in agreement with Ron. He turned to Hermione with calculating eyes as he bored into her own, "You've always thought the three of us never had it fair. That we were corrupted into paths that were laid preordained, without our judgment or our will."

"Well, weren't we?" Hermione asked, quietly. She tore her eyes away from Harry's and urged them into any direction besides his. They landed, much to her chagrin, on Fred. He was staring at her with such intensity that her breath seemed caught in her throat.

Fred couldn't imagine going through life with the beliefs that Hermione had in her mind all the time. Had Ron, Harry and Hermione been sucked into something that they couldn't get out of even if they wanted to? Yes. And unfortunately it had happened before they even had a real chance to taste childhood.

"She's right, Harry. You've been marked since birth with that damned prophecy against Voldemort. It shaped your life, and then, when you met the to of us, it shaped ours as well. Not nearly as directly, but it was always there," Ron explained, looking sadly from friend to friend.

"But, those times are over. I won't be sucking you both into that rubbish anymore," Harry reassured, his smile loosening some tension.

Hermione, however, remained grim, "Jayden was murdered."

The entire table, almost silently, gasped. It didn't seem to phase her, though. She continued on as if she hadn't heard a single noise, "First my parents, and believe me that was enough to clench my heart and drive me to brink of insanity, but then him." Tears welled in her eyes as she blinked rapidly in an attempt to stop herself from letting her remorse consume her, "He was just a Muggle. He didn't know, nor did he care about the unnatural phenomena that always seemed to occur around me when my attention wasn't entirely on my actions."

All eyes were on the tearful woman, the fallen angel. Fred felt his heart contract in his chest as he stared into her pained eyes. Her voice was quivering unsteadily, "Yet, in the end, he still gave his life for us. A Death Eater broke into our home. I haven't the slightest clue how they found us. It had already been years since the war had ended."

A choked sob broke from her mouth and her hand flung to her forehead, "Jay never stood a chance. He wanted to protect us. He wanted to keep his child away from the man who was pointing a wand at his heart." Her gaze went to Harry in an almost frantic way, "The Death Eater, McNair, wanted James and I. I don't even know why. I shouldn't have left Jay to that man, but James was still in the other room, crying in his crib. I had to get to him. It wasn't until James was in my arms that the Killing Curse was heard. I knew Jay was dead, so I ran, apparated. Like the damned coward that I am."

Harry shivered at how close the situation was in comparison to the scene that always played out in nightmares of his parents' death. How his father had tried to hold off Voldemort. How his mother had raced into his room and tried to save him. Only, his mother stayed. He wished she ran. "You're not a coward, Hermione. You're smart. James needed you."

"You did the right thing, dear," Molly whispered as tears fell from her eyes. Ginny's head was resting on George's shoulder as her eyes remained shut tight to fight images that were stirring in all of their minds. Fred wanted to jump from his chair and take Hermione into his arms. Forever. To lock her away from the world and its troubles. So what if he wasn't exactly sure about children yet? He'd deal. For her, he'd deal. She was the type of woman who, even though it was well-known that she could handle herself, a man still wanted to protect her.

"How long ago did this happen, 'Mione?" Ron asked, rubbing her back as she sobbed against Harry's chest.

"About a-a year an-and a half. Ex-cuse me, p-please. Lunch was f-fanta-stic, I-I've just got to r-rest," she stuttered out, before smiling half-heartedly at Molly and then to everyone else. Harry and Ron each kissed her cheek before she swept from the room and toward Ginny's chamber where she could sob into her pillow before sleep finally overcame her.

"I can't believe this happened to her, why her?" Ginny was suddenly standing and had her arms flailing dramatically, "Hermione is the smartest, bravest person I've ever known. Why does stuff like this happen to prevent her from showing it?"

"Why didn't she tell us sooner? Why did she wait for over a year before coming to us?" George shook his head and stared, miserably, as his sister continued her ranting.

Fred sat to himself, as did Harry and Ron. Molly immediately began fussing over their dishes, needing something, anything, to take her mind off of the horrid occurrences. This was not how lunch was imagined to go. Not at all.

Harry looked at Ron, "She let us break our promise to each other. The promise we made back at the end of sixth year."

"What promise?" Ron asked, and he looked guilt ridden, yet, confused.

"We promised to not let anything happen to each other. We promised to protect each other from the evils of the world."

"We failed miserably, it seems."

"My point exactly."

No one in the room seemed to notice as Fred stood up and rushed out. So what if Hermione had left? She might want to be alone, but he didn't want to leave her alone. He wanted to make sure she was alright. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and put the broken pieces of her blackened soul back together.

Hermione lifted her head from her pillow when the sound of the door creaking open met her ears. Fred stared at her lifeless eyes and willed himself to calm down and keep his distance. To just ask how she felt, but not act on anything. Unfortunately, that was before her eyes darkened considerably and took in his appearance. That was before she beckoned him closer with her soft, feminine hands and whispered, "Help me forget."

AN: Okay, so what did you think? Like it, hate it? Tell me!