Hermione was exhausted. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in the creaky, bug-ridden bed in the dingy hotel Malfoy had put her up in.
Typical Malfoy, she grunted as she took a turn trying to find a position she could finally fall asleep in.
She was jet-lagged, and hungry and tired from her travel, but had been unable to find edible food or rest in the hotel, if one could even call it that.
After ten more minutes of futile tossing about, she gave up and went to sit near the window. As she looked out, she couldn't believe how much had changed in her time away. Before, everyone who had been close to her would've fallen over their feet in their haste to see to her and wouldn't have left her alone had she been away for even a single day. Now, she had been literally forbidden from speaking to anyone, and those who she could reach out to, refused to speak to her properly. She was the living embodiment of the fact that one mistake could ruin a perfectly settled life.
She sighed, and wrapped her robe around her tightly as she remembered the day it had started.
It had been merely three months after the war, and Ron had finally worked up the courage to ask her out. She hadn't thought it was the right time; trying to find happiness and fool oneself during a time so clearly devastating wasn't sensible to her. But he had pleaded with her to give them a chance, and she had eventually agreed.
The Weasley's had been very happy about their union, and so had Harry. Pushed by their expectations, she had finally accepted Ron's proposal to take things more seriously not two months later.
Then came the mistake. After a night out drinking together, they had both given up their virginity to each other. Hermione had been shocked at her reckless actions the next morning, but Ron had been exhilarated at the step they had taken in their relationship.
He began trying to initiate the act every night with her after that, and after a week of his diligence and nagging, she had given in. She made sure she cast the contraceptive charm on herself every night, but she soon found out she needn't have worried.
She had been pregnant for a month before she finally found out.
"Are you sure?" she had asked with trepidation.
"One hundred percent, Miss Granger," the healer had announced.
"Thanks," she had muttered, before rushing out and apparating back to her flat.
This can't be true.
It can't be happening.
There must be some mistake.
Not now. Not to me.
Please, God, let this just be a dream. A really, really bad dream.
But no matter how hard she had tried to convince herself otherwise, it was the truth. She was pregnant, and she had only just turned 19. She hadn't even started working then. She had dreams and goals, she wanted to go to University, she wanted to travel, she wanted to live the life that had been stolen from her by the war.
She didn't hate babies, but her plan didn't feature any until she was at least thirty. A baby would put a full-stop to her aspirations before she even began living them. She didn't want that life. Just thinking of all the responsibilities and bonds that came with being a mother caused her to have a panic attack.
Released from one shackle, only to be bound to another.
When Ron had came by to see her that evening, he had found her sitting in a trance, watching her dead fireplace.
"'Mione?" he said, shaking her by the shoulder lightly.
She had looked up at him expressionless, but he could see the tell tale signs of tear streaks across her cheeks.
"'Mione, you okay? What happened?" he said, sitting down next to her, and pulling her into his arms.
He had felt her tear up again, and had held her through her sobs, giving her her time to calm down before telling him what was wrong.
That had taken nearly half an hour, and yet another fifteen minutes before Hermione had gathered enough courage to confess to Ron.
"I, uh, I…I went to the Healer today," she had said, keeping her eyes fixed to her clenched hands on her lap.
"Why? What's wrong with you?" he instantly had asked.
He had become even more worried when she had looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.
"You're scaring me now. Please just tell me what the Healer said," he had plead desperately.
"I'm pregnant."
He had stared at her for two minutes before finally breaking out into a wide grin, one she had missed, because she had returned her gaze to her lap.
"You sure?" he had asked.
"Yes. I don't know what to do," she then cried, hoping he would understand her predicament.
"Why, we're going to get married, of course. Mum is going to be over the moon. You don't know how excited she is going to be when we tell her," he had stood up and paced around in excitement.
Hermione had looked at him confusedly. "No, wait, what? Ron, we cannot tell anyone. We have to take care of this on our own. Secretly." She had given him a pointed glare to convey what she meant.
"I have to tell Mum. She is going to want to help. And it'll be a great distraction for her after, you know…"he had left the thought hanging.
Normally, Hermione would've called prey to the emotional sentiments Ron used against her. This time, she would be strong and not let anything sway her against her convictions. She was too young, and she knew a baby entailed a lifetime of sacrifices and responsibilities she was not ready for.
"Ron, I cannot have this baby. I am too young, we are too young. We cannot possibly leave all our dreams and sit at home and take care of a baby. We still are kids ourselves. I've already decided, I'm either going to give it up for adoption once it's born, or…"
"Abortion? You're going to kill our baby? Hermione, I won't let you do that."
"See? That is what I'm talking about. I don't want to be tied down, Ron. And I've already made up my mind," she said, and got up to go to her bedroom.
He had rushed forward and grabbed her by the wrist.
"And I've made up mine. We are having this baby. You're just saying this right now because of the surprise and your hormones."
"Ron, I can't do this right now. Go home," she had cried, sure of the bruises on her wrist she would wake up with the following day.
He had seemed to break out of his trance then, and dropped her wrist quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow. I know I can convince you to keep our baby." He had leaned forward and kissed her cheek, before dropping to his knees and gliding his palm over her clothed stomach. "Daddy won't let anything happen to you, baby."
"Ron! Go home," she had nearly shrieked, upset over Ron's reaction. She had imagined him to behave the same as she had. But considering his family history, she shouldn't have been surprised when Ron actually wanted the baby.
He had left then, but she hadn't been able to sleep the whole night, wrought with worry over what the next day would bring.
She sighed again at the memory.
The following weeks had been one of the worst times in her life. She had received owl's from everyone-Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, Ginny, Harry, her mom, her dad, Fleur, George, even his Aunt Muriel.
Hermione dear, I'm so happy for the two of you. I've already brought out my knitting basket. I'll come over later this week to teach you how to make little wool booties for the baby. You want to be as prepared as you can for when he comes.
Hermione, do you think you could show me how to fix up a Muggle playground-esque setting in our backyard? I think the baby would like it, don't you reckon?
You're pregnant? Why didn't you tell me? We have to go shopping, you know.
Congrats, Hermione. I think Uncle Harry has a really nice ring to it, don't you?
I'm so happy for you, darling. I'll be there throughout it all for you, so don't you be afraid one bit.
Hermione, this is rather…sudden, I'll admit, but I trust your choices. Do you think the baby will call me Grampa and Gramps?
I can help you with everything, you can practice on Victoire too. I am so happy for you and Ronald.
I know this is a big request, but do you think you could have either his first or middle name to be Fred? I think he would've appreciated the action. Congrats, by the way.
I hear you carry Ronald's child. Well, young lady, you better start fattening up if you plan on delivering my great-grandson safely to me. You're too skinny, I tell you.
Hermione had gone mental at the letters. Ron had clearly told everyone in the Universe that she was pregnant. And after she had specifically told him she didn't plan on keeping it.
But even his announcements hadn't deterred Hermione. He had declared it, he would have to deal with explaining everything once she gave up the baby.
How wrong she had been. Ron had been furious when she insisted on her original decision, and had thrown a fit about it in front of everyone at Dominique's birthday party. She had been ganged up on, everyone turned against her and started shaming her for her decision. No one had given her the chance to speak or explain, but she stood strong about her viewpoint. It had come across as selfish to the Weasley matriarch, but Hermione had known she couldn't back down in the situation.
Her parents had freed her from the crowd then, and taken her back to their house.
"Hermione, darling, why didn't you tell me what was bothering you?"
She had broken down then, tears spilling, snot running, sobs racking her tiny body.
"Mum, I can't do this," she had spluttered, leaning against her Mum.
Hermione explained everything to her parents, and they listened quietly, glancing at each other ever so often.
"Hermione," her mother said, once she was done explaining. "I know you're scared, but we are all here for you. You don't have to do any of it alone. We both will support you throughout, you know that. But whatever you do, just think of all the consequences. And think about all the ways you can handle this. You don't necessarily have to abort, you could give motherhood a shot once. If it doesn't work out, I'm sure the Weasley's could take care of the baby, or you could find another loving family for it. Just think it through well. We will be beside you in whatever decision you make, honey."
And so began the most nerve-wracking week of Hermione's life. She had thought, and thought, and drew up her infamous lists, and thought some more. Her parents had asked everyone to leave her alone for some time, and fortunately, everyone had heeded their advice.
Finally, she had decided to give the baby a shot, and decided to bring it to the world. She had excitedly informed Ron, and explained to him her conditions. He had quickly agreed to it all, and had taken her to the Burrow to announce the good news, once more, to his family.
Everyone was happy, everything was fine again.
Until her fourth month of pregnancy, that is.
She had barely started to show, and was finally over her morning sickness period and was beginning to enjoy pregnancy. Truth be told, she had only just started accepting her baby, but now found herself wishing for it to come as soon as possible. She had wished for the wrong thing, apparently. While playing with Victoire out by the tyre swing Arthur had hung from the banyan tree in the backyard, she suddenly felt a strong pain in her right side. It was so strong, that she doubled over and fell to the ground in tears, clutching at her sides. Victoire had run to the house to bring some adults to her help, and Hermione was quickly rushed to St Mungo's when blood was discovered staining her slacks.
She had lost the baby.
She cried, and she wept and she grieved for the loss of her baby. The baby she hadn't wanted, and had grown to love slowly.
But no one seemed to understand her pain. She received look of disgust and indignation from the Weasley's, and had been alone with her parents the day she was discharged.
It was almost as if they thought she had deliberately killed her baby. She visited them many times, and tried to explain her grief about the loss and her innocence in the mishap, but no one except Harry and Ginny seemed to talk to her.
The news of her being a supposed baby-killer spread like wildfire, and she couldn't be out in public without being mocked and taunted and pointed at.
Finally, she had had enough, and decided to leave the country for good. Without any forewarning, she packed up her belongings, transferred money to her Muggle account, and left for America. She joined University there, and studied History during the day and found an evening job at a Wizarding company as a Potions specialist, earning enough to pay tuition and boarding fees. Her hectic schedule took her mind off her loneliness and despair. She remained in contact with her parents through email, and occasionally wrote to Harry. Her communication with Ginny halted when the redhead stopped responding to her letters. She strongly suspected she had been forced to sever all connections with her by her family.
And in America she remained for the next seven years, until she had received an owl with an invitation to Ginny's wedding. It seemed more like informing, rather than inviting, but Hermione had decided to go back, thinking that seven years were enough to heal the broken relation between her and the Weasley's.
That was the third time in her entire life that she had been wrong.
As soon as she had arrived, Ginny had told her in no less words that she wasn't welcome amidst her family even then, and had been discarded to a mockery of a hotel. It was more like an insect and rodent farm, from what she had seen.
That's how one single mistake had ruined the greatly anticipated life and works of Hermione Granger, previously titled the Brightest Witch of her age.
Preview of chapter 3: Ideas and Happenings
She hadn't had such a great place to live in for forever, and the effort Draco was putting for her warmed her heart. Without thinking, she pulled him into a tight hug, only letting go when he awkwardly cleared his throat.
"I'm..I, uh, sorry," she muttered.
"No problem," he said.
They stood there in silence until he finally decided to break the awkwardness and made his excuses to leave the room.
Hermione didn't have time to mull over the situation. She fell into a deep slumber the moment her body touched the comfortable bed.
(A/N: Here's chapter two. Let me know what you think of the direction it's heading in, and if you think it seems sort of plausible. Also, I will be explaining Draco and Ginny in a future chapter, so it's a little more clear. Thanks for reading :D)