Do not stand at my grave and weep.
Chapter 5 - I am the sun on ripened grain.
I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS! I'm really sorry about how long it's taking me to update, all I can do is apologise. I have the next few chapters planned, and I'm sorry this one is so short, but I felt that I should get something up to encourage me to continue. I will definitely be updating in the next few days. This is my first ever fan fiction, and when I first wrote it, I didn't really plan to continue it into a multi-chaptered story. But here you go. And once again, sorry.
Hermione awoke to the gently clicking of needles. Her head was groggy, and she blinked against the sudden yellow light, gently raising her hand to shade her eyes. The clicking stopped. As Hermione raised herself up the bed, she looked around, noticing Mrs Weasley sitting beside the bed in an old armchair. The older woman was gazing at the younger, and instead of the loss and pain, and helplessness that had shrouded her eyes for months, Hermione saw hope and joy. And then her vision was clouded by the mass of black hair, belonging to her best friend, as he smothered her in a tight hug. He pulled back, and framed her face in his hands, his green eyes searching hers.
"Don't ever do that again, you hear me? Ever", he said, his voice hoarse. Hermione gazed back at him, remembering his eyes. She remembered seeing them across a train compartment over seven years ago. She remembered seeing them lit up with fire as they sat in the common room. She remembered waking up in the hospital wing in fifth year with a pain in her chest, and the look in those very eyes, as he sat by her bed, that gave her a whole new pain in her heart. She remembered seeing those eyes widen across the Burrow's sitting room, as they flitted down with a Seeker's accuracy to her stomach. Hermione's hands had been wrapped around Harry's forearms. But they dropped to the blanket covering the bed. They, ever so slowly, made their way to her abdomen. Harry leant back, and captured one of Hermione's shaking hands in his own. She looked from him to Mrs Weasley, who had watched the whole time with a mother's eye.
"Is it true?" she whispered. Mrs Weasley nodded, with the ghost of a smile.
"Sweetheart, you're perfectly fine. The baby is perfectly fine. Everything is going to be alright", the older eyes found the young.
"The b - the baby. Wha - how -no no no." Hermione was beginning to panic, her breaths coming out in short gasps. She could feel herself slipping into the dark place she'd avoided for months. But a squeeze from Harry's hand brought her back. Harry answered her.
"You fainted. But George caught you, and we brought you up here. Erm, a Healer came by, she checked you over, and set up an appointment for next week for you to go see her. She . . . she checked the baby, and it's strong and it's healthy. You're about three and a half months along." Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "she said that the worst is over but she recommended a lot of rest". He looked to Hermione, who hadn't moved since his little speech ended.
"You are going to be fine, Hermione" said Mrs Weasley, who stood up, and kissed Hermione's forehead before gently patting her cheek. "We're all here for you. And I know the best remedy for a shock like this; home cooking and peace. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, I'll send some up to you", she smiled and made her way to the door. Hermione blinked, trying to make sense of everything she that had happened in the past few months. Her wide brown eyes brimming with tears looked to Harry.
"I'm having a baby. I'm ha-having Ron's baby." Her breaths were evening out, and her colour was returning to her face. One of her small hands caressed the slight bump, and her mind floated away to a beach with a huge blue grey sky, a shadow of a smile dancing across her features. She slowly pulled away from Harry and untangled herself from the blankets on the bed. She gently stood and padded over to the window, shutting her eyes. As the warmth of the fading sun touched her eyelids, she sighed.
"How am I meant to do this, Harry? How can I do this on my own? Without him?", she gazed out of the window, looking down at the old apple tree, and she felt Harry push off from the bed and join her by the window. "I feel so lost in this."
Her small hand was captured in his large warm one, and their fingers interlocked tightly. His thumb stroked the back of her hand.
"Lost but not alone, Hermione. I promise that I'll be with you the whole way."