Hermione tries to calm herself as she stirs the pot of soup in front of her. Her feet tap constantly on the wooden floor of their humble kitchen. Once or twice she glances at the clock, feeling more and more nervous as the small hand comes closer to 6 PM.
A burst of green flames appear from the fireplace, one that would horrified the Muggles outside if they saw. Out of it came a red haired man with a cloak, ashes from the fireplace smearing parts of his work robe.
"Hermione?" he called, unsure.
"I'm here, Ron,"
Ron took off his shoes and put them aside next to the fireplace. He walks to the kitchen, where the source of his wife's voice came from, hurriedly.
"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"
"Meaning?"
Ron turns Hermione's body around, making her face him. "The real Hermione Granger would never go home before the Ministry office closes."
Hermione rolls her eyes, though the smallest weak smile still adorns her lips. "Honestly, Ronald. What's wrong with me being home a few hours early?"
"Five years of working in the Ministry, yet I have never seen your workaholic self go home before me, Love."
He wasn't lying either.
Right after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione immediately continued her last year of study in Hogwarts. Soon after, she was offered a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – where she made remarkable changes for magical beings that she cares for; house-elves, centaurs, goblins, and others. Three years of work later, Hermione was moved to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and promoted as Department Vice Head.
In those years of working, never once did she slack off or did anything less than impressive. The only time when she'd let loose and go home from work early is if she's feeling unwell.
"Are you sick?"
The brown haired witch looks down. She turns off the stove (a Muggle appliance she insisted on having in the house) and pulls Ron to the dining area.
"You might want to sit down."
This only made Ron more anxious. He followed Hermione's lead – sitting himself on a chair next to Hermione.
"What is it? It's the reason you threw up this morning, isn't it? What's wrong?"
Ron placed his hand on Hermione's forehead, checking her temperature – at the same time, glancing uncomfortably at their slightly opened kitchen window. It was a rainy February this year, the season where many get down with fever or flu …
Able to read her best friend of 15 years' mind, Hermione only smiles weakly.
"It's not what you think. I've been feeling under the weather for a few days now. So I went to St. Mungo's this afternoon." she explained. "The healers checked me twice –"
Hermione paused a beat before announcing,
"Ron, I'm pregnant."
The expression on the pale redhead's face turns 180 degrees. "With a baby?"
"Of course a baby, Ronald. What else–"
Her words were cut short as a pair of lips claimed hers, kissing her passionately. Ron pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight, showing no intention of letting go any time soon.
"Bloody hell, Hermione. It's brilliant, Love!" Ron exclaimed. "You made me so worried. You made it sound like you're dying! You're supposed to sound happy, Hermione!"
There was a pause in the room. Ron loosened his hug on his wife, searching for Hermione's eyes whilst she kept looking down to her lap.
"You are happy about this, aren't you Hermione?" The wizard asked, anxiety apparent in his voice.
"I am!" Hermione immediately answered, not wanting to cause any misunderstanding. "It's our first, Ron. How dare I not be happy about it?"
Ron cups her face with his palms, lifting her head to look at him. "Then why?"
Hermione removes his hands from face, opting to hold his hands with hers instead. "I'm scared. What if we can't be good parents for the baby, Ron?"
"We both have experience babysitting our nieces and nephews before, Hermione. And I'm sure Mum would help,"
"But taking care of someone's child for the weekend is different than raising your own child." Hermione explains, still very concerned. "I'm also not sure how we can raise a baby now, with you having just been promoted to High Rank Auror and I'm swamped with work too at the moment."
"Harry and Ginny are doing fine with little James."
"Their jobs are less time consuming than ours, Ron." Hermione seems conflicted. "Ginny is working mostly from home now, and I don't think I can cut down my working hours like Harry did."
"You don't have to, Hermione. I can quit my job," Ron blurted readily. "I think I've done enough fighting Death Eaters for this lifetime. I'll just work for the joke shop."
"How can you say that so easily?"
Ron smiles and shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal. "George has been bugging me to help with the joke shop anyway. I'll negotiate the work hours with him."
"But you love your current job, Ron. You worked so hard for it!"
"So do you," he replied. "and you're amazing at it too. The Department of Magical Laws would collapse without you, but I can just make use of the next months to train my replacement before I step down."
More than anyone else, Hermione knows how difficult it was for Ron to get to where he is. Even with the insecurities of having five successful older brothers and a famous best friend, he managed to break through others' prejudices and made a name of his own.
Once Ron proved that he is capable of leading his own team of Aurors, catching tens of Death Eater escapees on his missions, nobody ever dared to underestimate him. It took years of hard work, sweat, and blood for Ron Weasley to finally be acknowledged as the brave master strategist, scary good Auror that he is.
"You sure?"
Blue orbs meet brown teary ones.
"It's always family first for me."
"Oh, Ron,"
Hermione pounced onto her husband of two years, circling her arms around his neck, softly crying to his shoulders. The love she felt from him is very overwhelming. The Weasleys are notorious for familial affection after all – but Ron has especially been the one with the biggest heart.
She felt his rough big hands patting her back, consoling her. They're warm and comforting, yet Hermione found that they made it harder for her to stop crying – happy tears.
"We're having a baby," she whispered.
"We are," he repeated. "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Ronald."
Harry and Ginny were the first ones to be told. Upon hearing the news, Ginny jumps to hug her brother and sister in law.
Harry got especially emotional, hinting that he's happy their children will be the same age — that they'll be best friends for life too. Hermione bawled her eyes out at that.
It was a no-brainer for Ron and Hermione to ask them to be the godparents for when their baby is born.
Next were their parents, with Mr. and Mrs. Granger being invited to the Burrow for dinner. Both sets of grandparents squealed in joy. It was expected for Mr. and Mrs. Granger, since this is going to be their first grandchild. What they didn't expect is Mrs. Weasley crying, since she already had so many grandbabies.
"It doesn't matter how many grandchildren I already have. Welcoming a new family member is always a surreally happy occasion." Mrs. Weasley weeped. "Oh, Arthur, my baby boy is having a baby!"
In early March, they prepared a fake birthday party for Ron with the help of Harry and Ginny, inviting all of the other Weasleys and their close friends. After cutting the cake, Ron and Hermione surprised everyone with the announcement that they're expecting. The Gryffindor boys lifted Ron up in the air, chanting the Weasley is Our King song again like they're back in school, while the girls gush over Hermione's early pregnancy glow.
It was a night that ended with Ron having a hangover the next morning. Needless to say, Hermione wasn't very happy about that part.
Everything was perfect,
until the day came.
.
.
May 2nd is a bittersweet day for the Wizarding World. Seven years ago, when Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, the world was finally safe and free of fear. But victory came at the cost of many lives; brave people, beloved friends, and honorable heroes.
Harry dreads the date every single year, but especially so this year.
For the seventh anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Headmistress McGonagall has decided to host a memorial service for the fallen. Those who fought for a better world, families and friends of those who lost their lives at the battle are invited for a feast in the Great Hall, to reminisce and celebrate the lives and memories of their loved ones.
On the day, the place was crowded with many familiar faces, people whom Hermione recognized as those who fought alongside her and her friends on that terrifying night. Random people come and go, saying hello, asking how they're doing. Old and new stories are exchanged, showing everyone that time heals, and that life goes on.
While Harry is making rounds talking to almost everyone, Ron and Hermione are seated at the Gryffindor table with their fellow ex-classmates sitting next to them, helping each other with servings of Hogwarts' delicious feast.
"I didn't think I'd make it alive out of there seven years later," Lavender commented, fingers touching the battle scar on her cheek.
Hermione smiled sadly, looking down at her own forearm scar. "I didn't either. But here I am."
"Pregnant with Won-won's baby."
Ron scowls while the two twenty-five years old ladies laugh at the memorable nickname, childish rivalry be damned. He is not exactly pleased at the fact that his wife and ex-girlfriend are making fun of him together. Seamus, Lavender's current fiancé, however found it completely hilarious. After all that happened, all the fights they had in their school days just seemed so childish in comparison.
"Speaking of adorable names," Neville spoke up. "What is baby Granger-Weasley's name going to be?"
"It's four months old already, isn't it? Have you both found a name?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing grins.
"We have. It's still a secret though,"
"You should consult it with Professor Trelawney," Parvati suggested. "check if your child's fate matches their name."
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"What? You can't possibly still doubt her inner eye?" Lavender protested, defending her favorite teacher's honor. "Her prophecy about Harry came true! Go speak to her!"
Ron snorted. "Is she still obsessed with tea leaves? How about 'Chris-tea' for girl or 'Mar-tea' for boy?"
"Not funny, Weasley!"
"Oh, there she is!" Lavender squeaked, lifting her hand up high to signal to the thin eccentric lady who just walked in. "Professor Trelawney! Here! We're here!"
"I apologize for what's about to come." Hermione heard Seamus whisper to Ron.
"My dears …" The teacher almost floated her way up to them. She joins the group of old friends' table to greet them.
Professor Trelawney still speaks in her airy mystical voice, Hermione still thinks she's an old fraud. She watches as the older woman hugs Lavender and Parvati, who were always her favorite students. Next, she pats the boys on their back, commenting about 'the grim of adulthood looming''.
"Miss Granger," Professor Trelawney came to her. "You feel … different."
"I'm sorry?"
"You glow, My Dear!" the old professor exclaimed. "And you aren't as dry as you were,"
Hermione had to pinch Ron under the table to keep him from laughing out loud.
"Thank you, Professor," the brown-haired witch decided to take her words as a compliment instead.
Upfront on the High Table where the Professors and Staffs are sitting, Headmistress Mcgonnagal clinked her goblet a few times.
"May I have your attention,"
Everybody who was standing around quickly grabbed a seat nearest to where they were, showing respect to the never-changing charismatic Headmistress. (This unfortunately meant that Professor Trelawney ended up taking a seat next to Hermione.)
In less than a minute, the Great Hall is silent, all pairs of eyes looking in one direction.
"First of all–" Professor Mcgonagall started.
But the Headmistress never got to start her speech, for Professor Trelawney suddenly choked, loudly.
Everyone turned to gawk at the sudden commotion.
Professor Trelawney's hands lift up to her neck, her head facing upwards while she gasps for air hungrily, her whole body shaking as she does so.
"Professor!" Parvati stood up to help.
Before Parvati could reach her, the Divination Professor abruptly stopped. Her hands fell to her side and her posture rigid as she sat back on her seat.
Yet her eyes changed colors.
The pair of foggy gray orbs rolled backwards before turning to look at her right side — staring straight at Hermione Granger.
Ron tried to shield Hermione, but old Trelawney's lips moved faster.
She sang in her eerie hoarse voice:
"Three stood on the battleground
For one to end under the mound,
Two of three planted a tree
then Doom for many i foresee,
Fiery red long gone in the sea of flame
Born out of bitterness, left to blame,
Cut the root and you shall be free
Before the evil within rise and flee"
Everybody held their breath as Professor Trelawney inhaled an amount of oxygen.
Then, as if nothing happened, she blinked — her eye colors turning back to normal.
"What is it, My Dear?" Professor Trelawney asked, still staring at a terrified Hermione.
She didn't know that she just made another prophecy. She didn't realize what she just did, what she said, and how horrified everyone in the Great Hall who heard it were.
It was only a matter of time before the uproar arises.