OK, this is part one of the pensieve scene. It will be continued in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!

Ron was confused. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something terribly important during his short time away from the burrow. The looks everyone was giving him were, well, bizarre. Ginny and Fleur were weepy, Mum kept trying to hold onto him, Harry looked guilty and the rest of them were acting just as strange. Except for Hermione. She suddenly seemed calmer than in the whole two days she'd been back in his life. God, was it really just two days? It felt like an entire lifetime had happened since then.

He didn't know what Hermione had to be calm about now. If the vial in Harry's hand was any indication, they were all about to learn whatever thing it was that Hermione was so desperate to hide. Harry had quickly apparated to his and Ginny's flat and brought back the pensieve, which now rested on the floor of the living room. The whole family was gathered around it. Apparently, it was going to be a field trip.

"I'm not going," Hermione said suddenly, eyeing the bowl of the pensieve. "I already know what's in there, and I'd rather not see it twice."

Harry nodded, unstoppering the vial to pour the memory in.

"You'll be okay here?"

"Sure, I'll watch the kids," Hermione said calmly. "The wards are up, no one can get in."

Harry poured the memory out and into the pensieve then, and one by one each of the others pressed their faces forward, falling in. Ron took one more look at Hermione, who nodded and smiled at him reassuringly, then jumped into the inky blackness himself.

…..

They were standing in Ron's old bedroom at the burrow. The small space had somehow been stretched out to accommodate the twelve people who had just fallen into it. The edges of the room flared out in wispy, smoke-like tendrils. Ron landed on his backside with a thud and stood up, looking around to reacquaint himself. The walls were garish orange and Canons posters covered the area. And there, standing at his bed, was Hermione, folding a basket of laundry.

He watched her, the first time in ages he could examine her without her pushing him away. This Hermione couldn't glare or scowl at him; she couldn't see him at all. He watched the way her wavy hair hung down her back, some of it falling in front of her shoulders. It followed her as she moved, making quick work of the laundry with her thin, graceful hands. Ron wanted to laugh at the fact she was doing this the muggle way, even though he could see her wand in the back pocket of her jeans.

His family behind him stretched out to watch as well. He saw Ginny looking around curiously, and he realized it was the first time she'd been in a pensieve memory. Harry was watching Hermione as well, his eyes shining. It was obviously affecting him too, being this close to her, before she had gone away from them.

Suddenly, there was a pop, and an image appeared. The audience watching the scene jumped back in shock at the same time Hermione did. Hermione whipped around, dropping the neatly folded laundry and holding her wand out in front of her. When she saw who it was, she let the wand drop, then whipped it up again an instant later, realizing something was wrong.

Harry Potter was standing there, but it wasn't a version of Harry anyone in the room had ever seen before. His hair was short and graying at the temples. He had frown lines around his face and wore a wedding band on his left ring finger. This man looked to be about ten years older than the real Harry Potter should have been.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, her voice stern.

"Careful Hermione," the figure said back. "You don't want to alarm anyone in the house."

This version of Harry held his hands up in front of him and placed a finger over his lips, motioning for quiet.

"It's me Hermione. Ask me something."

Ron watched as Hermione visibly struggled to understand what was going on, as she tried to come up with a suitable question.

"Where did we spend summer before fourth year?" she asked finally.

"Here," he said automatically. "At the burrow."

"That's a bit obvious, don't you think?"

The man paused, looking around as of for an answer. Spying one of the moving Canons posters, he spoke again.

"We went to the Quidditch World Cup, Dad…Mr. Weasley got us tickets."

Hermione lowered her wand at that, still eyeing the figure suspiciously. Taking in his appearance once more, something seemed to click inside that brilliant brain of hers.

"What year are you from?" she asked quietly.

"We need to go somewhere else," older Harry said. "To talk."

With that, the time traveler walked toward Hermione and touched her elbow. There was the telltale sound of an apparition pop, then they both disappeared.

As soon as it happened, Ron felt himself pulled along as well, moving somewhere else. The colors were blurred around him, but he could see faces: George, Mum, Bill…everyone was being dragged along as well. Finally it stopped and Ron found himself on the floor of a place that seemed familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The floor and walls were made of wood and he could tell from the few square windows that they were surrounded by trees.

"We're in our old tree house," Ginny said, looking astonished. None of the Weasley kids had been inside this tree house in ages. Dad had magicked it when they were younger to be tall and wide enough to fit all his offspring, and now the whole family stood in it again, watching as some future version of Harry led Hermione to a table in the center of the hut.

Taking a seat, older Harry began taking things out of his pockets and placing them on the table, Hermione looking at him apprehensively. Harry set down scraps of papers, books, newspaper clippings. Hermione reached out a hand to touch his arm, pausing his work.

"Harry, what's going on?" she asked. "You're scaring me."

"I knew you would need lots of proof," Harry responded, nodding his head at the table and looking determined. "I knew you wouldn't believe this unless it was written. You like things written down."

Hermione looked helplessly at the pages before her, clearly confused and overwhelmed. She shook her head.

"Just tell me, please?"

Older Harry looked at her for a long second, seeming to struggle with himself. Then he ran a hand through his hair and began explaining to Hermione about the prophecy, much the same way current day Harry had done a few hours ago in the kitchen of the burrow. He explained to Hermione about the trio, the break in at the department of mysteries, two death eaters set out to stop this one last prophecy.

"When Shraxen and Willigsbee stole the prophecy, they stole a time turner as well, before all the time turners were destroyed," Harry said. "They've been using it to move through time, trying to determine who around me the prophecy was speaking of."

"But why are you dealing with this now?"

"They've found out," Harry said gravely.

"How?"

"A child's been born." Harry paused, scanning Hermione's face to see if she followed. "In my time, a child's been born, a trio has been formed, and their magic is good and strong enough that any dark wizard would want to destroy it."

Hermione searched Harry's expression, trying to make sense of it, before speaking at last.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You haven't figured it out?" Harry asked, a wry smile on his face. "The child is yours. Yours and Ron's."

Hermione gasped and sat back in her seat at the tree house table. Ron, watching the memory, felt like he needed a seat himself. He looked around at the faces of his family, expecting them to be as shocked as he was. They seemed enthralled by the scene in front of them, but not a one looked as surprised as Ron felt they should. Hermione and I have a baby together? He couldn't believe it. Then he thought about it again, the idea warming his heart and making him catch his breath. Hermione and I have a baby together.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Hermione asked at last, looking unnerved and afraid to hear more.

Harry walked over to a corner of the tree house where a wicker basket lay, covered in a soft pink blanket. Holding the basket, Harry walked back to Hermione and set it down on the table.

"We need you to protect her now," Harry said, removing the blanket to reveal an infant Rose Weasley sleeping soundly in the basket.