Chapter Twenty
I felt the familiar pressure of appariton and I opened my eyes to find myself in a small cottage. At the last Order meeting, Lupin told us that he had created a series of safe houses that, although not the most comfortable, were completely untraceable and only certain people could pass through the wards.
I looked at the cottage more closely. The foundation was wood and old fashioned, but it was still very homey and pleasant. There were two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a very small empty room for any use, and a kitchen that opened up into a living room.
Each room had very little furniture in it but there were still all the necessities. The kitchen held a small table and three chairs as well as all the appliances, as did the bathroom, there were beds, dressers and a little night stand in both bedrooms and the living room had a couch, chair, book case and fire place.
All in all, I was very pleased with the result. I took out my wand and decided to make the house a little cozier and more personalized. I started out with the kitchen, living room. I transfigured all the chairs into ones with a sturdier frame and more padding, made the walls a nice cream color and changed the floor to be a soft rug in the living room, and yellow tiles in the kitchen. The bathroom had the same color scheme, although the walls had tiles on them also.
Then I set to work on the bedrooms. I started out in mine and made all the walls a soft purple and transfigured the bed into a larger sized version. I then conjured up some dark purple and white blankets and pillows along with some clothes. Then I went to the other bedroom and started my making the walls a light green color and adding in a beige carpet. Knowing that I would not need it for a while, I transfigured the bed into a yellow crib and changing table. I also conjured up a small chest of toys, hoping that my daughter would like them when she was old enough to play with them.
Then I moved on to the other room. This one would take more time then all the others but I wanted it to be the best in the whole house. By the time I had finished, the walls were a soft blue and there was a dark blue carpet, and I had added in a small sofa and a coffee table. The final addition to the room, the main component was a television that I had magically enhanced to work without any electricity. My daughter would grow up as much a muggle as she was a witch.
I finished remodeling the house and realized that it had gotten dark outside. Much to my delight, there were automatic lights in the house. I smiled slightly and went into my bed room, changed, and climbed into bed.
I could not fall asleep, though. It was not that the bed was not comfortable - it was. My thoughts were the things that were keeping me from sleeping. I sighed, by fixing up the cottage, I had managed to avoid thinking all day, but there was no other way I could escape them now.
At first I thought about my friends that were now dead. I realized sadly that it had been half a year since their deaths, at least for me, and that it had been so long since I really thought about them. I was immediately angry with myself. How could I forget them so easily? I was so preoccupied with trying to stop Voldemort from coming into power that I had forgotten about them too much for my liking. While they were always in my mind, I started thinking about them less and less everyday.
This was mainly around the time when I started to like Tom. I cursed myself silently. I had given up six years of their love, for a few months with Tom. I decided that I would always remember every one of them and that my daughter would know how great her mother's friends used to be.
I fell asleep reliving memories. I thought about my adventures with Harry and Ron, summers with my parents, classes at Hogwarts, Order meetings... Before I fell asleep that night, I had thought about my entire life, that is, all of it except the last six months.
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The next nine months were, in one word, lonely. I had to spend every day with no one but myself. Occasionally, I would sit on the couch and tell stories to the baby that was growing inside me, although I have no idea if she could hear me.
Each stage of my pregnancy was an incredibly different experience.
The first trimester was filled with sleepless nights, interrupted by my morning sickness, and trying to discover what was happening with the outside world. Once every week, I would sneak into town and try to snatch a copy of the Daily Profit or the Quibbler. Each time I was successful and each time my heart fell at the sight of the headlines.
At first, they were what I expected, but the just declined from there. I can remember every single one.
Hogwarts Fallen: The Chosen One Lives No Longer
The One that Got Away - Where is Hermione Granger Now?
Scrimgeor's Murder
What Would Dumbledore Do? A Tribute to the Wisest Man to Ever Live
Increasing Muggle Attacks Around the World
Last of the Weasleys Found Dead
No More Ministry Of Magic
The Daily Profit Is Now Under the Control of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
To All Rebels, You Will Not Last Long
Wanted Alive, Hermione Granger, 10 Thousand Galleon Reward
Much to my surprise, I was often in the News. I had just vanished and people clearly wanted to hold on to the hope that Hermione Granger, smartest witch in her year and possibly of all time, best friend to Harry Potter, and a student of Dumbledore's, was able to escape Voldemort and continue to evade him.
I was able to obtain less and less newspapers everyday, my stomach growing increasingly larger.
Most of my second trimester was spent making everything perfect for the baby. My life was becoming completely centered on this one being and she was not even born yet.
My third trimester was the worst. My hormones were raging incredibly and I was running out of things I could do. Everything was as good as it would ever be for the baby, I could not leave the house since people were searching everywhere for me and my huge stomach ruled out the possibility of subtly or agility.
I was a mess. What was there to do? More then anything, I wanted to talk to someone, anyone. I had spent months in complete solitude and I was incredibly lonely. I did not even have to talk to someone, I just desperately needed for someone to be there for me. Someone to hold my hand, someone to comfort me, someone to hold me when I cried, someone to love me.
I wanted that someone to be Tom.
At one point every day, my thoughts turned to him. Not the way he was now, I never thought of him as Voldemort. No, I wanted the Tom that I had loved, the good Tom. Whenever my thoughts led to him I would clear my head as fast as possible. I had enough sense not to think of him too much with my hormones on overdrive, but that only worked so well.
By the last month of my pregnancy, I had a very difficult time simply moving. I had to use magic to help me in every activity I did and although I was anxious to meet my little baby, I hated having to be handicapped.
Then, after nine months of waiting, Siran Meara Granger was born. I argued with myself if I should give her my last name or Tom's. I decided on mine, after all, despite what Tom had been, I did not want my daughter to grow up with the last name of the most feared wizard of all time.
When I saw her for the first time, I was astonished. She was the most beautiful child I had ever seen. I know that I am biased, seeing as I am her mother, but she looked so sweet and perfect. As I held her in my arms, I knew that I would always love her and that I would do everything I could to hide her from her father.
A/N: What did you think?
I have to point out my brilliance (ha ha) with the name I gave Hermione's daughter. Just so you all know, Siran means "sweet love," and Meara means "descendent of the mirthful one." Come on, tell me that that is not perfect for Hermione and Tom's kid.
review?