Thanks so much for all your baby name suggestions, guys! I picked one so you'll have to wait and see which one it is! It's one that was on my list but I saw it in several people's reviews so it must be THE ONE! I've been sick; I couldn't breathe for days and that's not conducive to writing. But now I'm back! And in this new segment, Ginny deals with her tempestuous feelings and reunites with Hermione.

Enjoy!

LCailan

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Roxanne Molly Johnson-Weasley was born just as the snow had begun to melt from the dead trees along the coast of Wales. Hermione was in her third month and growing stronger each day as the child within her blossomed robustly.

Roxanne was a hefty little thing with a lusty cry and as Neville helped Charlie clean her she wailed her distress over being plucked from her mother's warm womb and brought into a cold, drafty world. Hermione, hand clutching a slight baby bump under a thick, green jumper was amazed at the miracle that had unfolded before her. No magic, none at all, could equal the birth of a child.

Neville wrapped her in a thick, white blanket and then Hermione was the first to hold her for Angelina was weak from childbirth and blood loss. As Neville hovered over Angelina, Hermione gingerly held the screaming infant as Charlie quickly joined her at the window where the sun beat down gloriously on them.

"She's so….perfect," breathed Hermione.

As she looked up at Charlie she could see for the first time in months the pure joy that radiated from his face.

"She sure is," he agreed gazing down at the baby in Hermione's arms.

Roxanne had stopped wailing and was making small chuffing noises as she stirred a bit under the cocoon of her blanket and then settled down with a huge yawn. Hermione giggled at the baby's lurching, uncertain movements and it caused Roxanne to open her tiny eyes. Charlie beamed.

"Well, how about that! I reckon she has Weasley eyes!"

It was true. The baby had eyes the color of caramel much different than that of the dark, exotic color of her mother's. Her eyes were strikingly lighter than the black, downy hair that covered her tiny head.

"She does," Hermione said with a grin.

Charlie reached down and offered Roxanne his finger which she gripped tenaciously.

"Good thing, too, because I imagine she's not going to be a ginger," he joked stroking the top of Roxanne's head with affection.

The display before her warmed Hermione's heart. For a moment they both stared down in awe at the tiny little girl and then Angelina interrupted the silence.

"Give me my baby," she said with a weak laugh. "If she's inherited the Weasley appetite they'll be no satiating that hunger."

Hermione laughed as she handed the baby to her mother and a rush of love filled her, leaving a warm glow. She noticed that Charlie turned away when Angelina began to nurse, and a blush had colored his cheeks making the freckles there disappear. She smiled to herself and as Roxanne was quieted by the comfort of her mother, Hermione moved to help Neville in the kitchen.

"You think everything's all right?"

Neville smiled his round, shiny face broadening.

"I'm sure," he replied with a wink. "They don't call me the best Healer in Wales for nothing."

He was joking, it was clear, for Neville was not one to boast. Hermione grinned at him and then sighed wistfully.

"I can't believe that'll be me in just a few months."

She couldn't help the pang of longing that filled her at the thought that Draco wouldn't be at her side. When she looked up into Neville's face she found kindness in the depths of his eyes.

"You'll be just fine, you'll see."

Hermione swallowed.

"I never imagined myself-"

She wrung her hands looking away for a moment.

"That is to say, Ron and I had…well we had talked about it when Ginny and Harry had James but I-"

Neville waited hoping that she'd speak further, elaborate on what was weighing on her heart. He reached across the small counter between them, taking her hand into his.

"You'll be a brilliant mother, Hermione. I know it. I've seen your face when you've talked about Ginny's children. She's told me so much…"

There was alarm in Hermione's soft brown eyes then, a spark of something uncertain and pallor to her face. She pulled away from Neville's comforting touch.

"She couldn't have told you how much I love those children. No one can put such emotion into words."

Her hand, as it did so frequently, snaked down to rest on the slight bump of her belly. Neville smiled at the love that was so evident on Hermione's face.

"See?" he said. "You already know what it feels like to love someone like that."

He finished putting away his things and set the large rucksack onto the floor.

"All you have to remember is that…it's your child. It doesn't matter what's happened before, Hermione. All that matters now is the future."

She stared at him suddenly reminded of how little those around her knew.

It's not just my child!

Even those whom Hermione believed she trusted knew nothing of her relationship with Draco Malfoy and why the child she was carrying now was so important to her. It wasn't just a child. It was Draco's child, the one part of him which she could keep no matter what happened. That's why she couldn't let anything happen to her baby; she needed a part of Draco with her always if that was all she would ever have.

Tears burned behind her closed eyes and with a shuddered intake of breath, Hermione turned away from Neville. Would he understand? Would any of them understand? Could she tell them? The questions were burned on her mind but she would have no easy answers, she knew.

Would you understand, Neville? Charlie, would you turn your nose up at me if you knew I fell in love with the enemy, and sired his child?

Suddenly, Hermione felt trapped; her secret was a wearisome burden.

In the other room Roxanne let out a wail and Charlie was laughing. Angelina beamed up at him and Hermione gazed at the tiny family scene wondering if perhaps there was still good left in the world and if everyone who was deserving would get their second chance. George was dead but now he lived on in his daughter. And even though Angelina loved George, it was Charlie who was gazing down at her with both affection and protectiveness and Hermione wondered if he had found his new purpose in life.

She gazed down at herself.

It's going to be the same for us, Baby. I'll never let you forget how much your father loved you even if he didn't know you existed. I won't let you forget him or the good he did for us. I won't let anyone let you learn prejudice, no matter what. Hate and prejudice destroys life and happiness. No one deserves that.

When Hermione began to feel a bit smothered by Neville's intense gaze she slipped from the small kitchen to join the new family.

Long after Neville had Apparated from the cottage and Charlie had fallen asleep, Angelina and Hermione sat in the living room, the only light given off by the crackling of the fire. Roxanne lay asleep in her mother's arms. She was a good baby, Hermione had decided, fussing only when she needed to be changed or fed. The silence between the two women was a warm, comfortable one. Perhaps it was even one of kinship for each of them would be experiencing motherhood at nearly the same time.

"How does it feel?"

Angelina smiled at Hermione's question, adjusting Roxanne's blanket with a tender touch. The baby made a soft, sighing noise and shifted towards her mother's warmth before settling down once again.

"I can't even begin to describe," she replied in a whisper without taking her eyes from the baby's bundled form.

"It's the perfect gift, you know," Hermione said then thoughtfully. "She's a part of George."

Her sincere comment caused Angelina to look up and study Hermione's face in the flickering firelight. There was a glow about her – something indefinable but real – that made Angelina wonder what she was really thinking.

And Hermione wondered how it would feel to finally hold and look into the face of Draco's son or daughter and to know what he had done to ensure her safety and the safety of a baby he had known nothing about. It was enough to make her want to weep, but she knew she could not.

"I can't wait for everyone to meet her. I never thought I'd be in this place, Hermione. I never thought I could find joy in such misery."

But Hermione knew; she understood. She wondered. And she was afraid. Because everyone would want to meet Roxanne and sooner or later Hermione would have to face her friends and family. The family she had left behind the night of the alienage fire. And she would have to answer questions that had no justifiable answers.

I'm just not ready.

The train raced along the glorious Welsh countryside heading towards the closest station to the coast. It rocked back and forth like a massive cradle with an engine, lulling all those aboard to a placid existence. All but Ginny, who sat with her back straight and away from the rather comfortable seat. Every once in a while Seamus would note that she twirled a tendril of her vivid hair around one china-hued finger and bit her lush, lower lip in contemplation.

They traveled by train the long distance that could have been quickly traveled by Floo or Apparition only because there was still the underlying fear that the Ministry could intervene. The forces of the resistance were growing stronger by the day and it seemed a waste to have a setback by something as trivial as travel. And so they traveled the Muggle way.

Seamus had assumed that Ginny would eventually relax but she had not; her eyes were as watchful and mistrustful as always and her pale face had not lost the sharp lines of alertness.

"G'wan Ginny, give yourself a bloody heart attack why don't ya?"

"Bugger off, Seamus."

Her language was callous and her tone rather cross. It was as if she had forgotten her three, well-behaved children were still in the compartment, though they had all dozed off into fitful naps. He shrugged, swallowing back his annoyance at her behavior but he couldn't quite hide the wounded tone of his voice.

"Watching out for ya, so I am."

Ginny tensed and Seamus could almost hear her nasty response but just as quickly she fell limply back against her seat, the expression of alertness having been replaced by hurt.

"Sorry then," she muttered.

A part of her was irritated by Seamus' attentiveness as of late; she couldn't remember a time before Harry's passing that anyone had cared that much. She had a hard time trusting in him, anyway. But the part of her tucked away behind all the resentment, anxiousness and irritation appreciated his efforts and knew that she had gotten lucky to find Seamus and the WERA when she had fallen upon such hard times. Seamus was genuinely kind to her and even more than that, good with her children.

Ginny supposed in a world where she had a difficult time trusting anyone, Seamus was as close an exception to the rule as possible. She studied him curiously, the way his sandy-brown hair fell across cornflower blue eyes in a handsome, weathered face smattered liberally with freckles. Their eyes locked and Ginny could not find the right thing to say and finally tore her gaze from him, opting instead for the view outside of the train window.

The train lurched a bit as it went around a gentle turn and then continued on its journey towards the coast. The smooth sound of wheels on track soothed her but it wasn't enough to lull her into a sense of ease as it had done to the children. Ginny couldn't stop thinking about what waited at the end of her journey – her new niece and a pregnant Hermione.

For a while she avoided Seamus' eyes but finally she knew she had to look at him.

"It's just bloody hard," she ground out, the words harsh. "George…he's just…gone, like the rest of my family, and now…Angelina's got this baby and…Hermione's pregnant and I…"

Ginny prided herself on strength. She had seen too much weakness in those around her and she had always grown sick and cold at the sight of women falling from grace because of their weaknesses. Lavender Brown had been one such woman.

Is Hermione another?

She hated that she had even entertained such a thought but there it was. Blinking rapidly, Ginny was faced with a sudden desire to cry but she won the fight, her eyes hot but dry. She waited for the waves of guilt and frustration to wash over and then fade. They always did; she was used to it. Used to feeling angry and guilty, resentful and remorseful.

Ginny shut her eyes tightly and when she opened them again Seamus was watching her with silent sympathy. Clearing her throat, she continued.

"I don't know who to be angry with; I don't know who to hate. Myself? My own weaknesses? My frustration with Hermione for what she did? All those who slowly destroyed my family, taking them from me piece by painful piece?"

Her white fingers were laced together tightly and as she spoke they gripped her skirts with increasing tenacity.

"I don't bloody want to be angry with her!"

Her eyes held shades of self-loathing and anger. Seamus sighed.

"I can tell, to be sure."

"It's just that…I'm her family! Not that slimy little git! He saves her life once and that means she's somehow linked to him now? I told her to be careful! I told her what he is and what that Mark on his arm means! He's not one of us; he's no good!"

Still fighting the wall of tears that threatened, Ginny managed to choke up the next words.

"She loves Lily! She did what she had to! I understand that, but she should have come with us the first chance she got! You came for us; why didn't she leave?"

Her eyes widened with disbelief.

"And to say she loves him? How is that even possible? She loved Ron! She would never love Malfoy!"

Seamus didn't respond right away and for a few moments the only sound was the clatter of the train against metal track. When he spoke, his words barely rose above the din of the train.

"Does love die, Ginny? Ron is dead and a shame it is. Can you blame her for not dyin' along with him?"

Ginny wouldn't look at Seamus though she felt the heat of his gaze lingering on her like the warmth of the sun after it hid behind a cloud. There was no mistaking the intensity with which he spoke.

"There's not much love to be had in this world so why would you not take a chance on someone if you could? Jayzus, had I thought with me whole loaf I imagine I would have tried harder in the past."

Ginny swallowed painfully.

"To love?"

She still refused to gaze on him and Seamus was torn between hopefulness and a strange frustration. When he didn't reply, Ginny continued.

"You could have had anyone. It was your choice."

He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment on the brink of an admission, but something held him back.

"It was. Sure, we all make certain choices."

Ginny said nothing more, instead gazing out of the window without much emotion, a sad feeling on her heart.

Roxanne was beautiful. So was that first moment that she gazed on Charlie's gloriously happy, freckled face.

Ginny watched with affection as James, Albus and Lily met the youngest Weasley addition for the first time and seeing Charlie again was the balm she had needed after months of distress. Her older brother's smile served to wipe away the heaviness that had lain on her heart the whole time she had been on the train. As Ginny hugged Charlie a flood of emotions washed over her and she was able to clearly recall years in the past when only her brother had been able to make her feel better. Scraped knees, failed duels in the back garden, Christmases that hadn't felt complete when Charlie had been off with the dragons in Romania…

One thing she was sure of was that nothing had been right without Charlie at the Burrow. Now knowing that they were the only two Weasleys left, well…

Ginny's eyes burned painfully and she closed them, burying her face against Charlie's rough cotton shirt. She clung to her brother tightly, not wanting to let go, allowing herself to believe that he could make everything better, just like he had always done when she had been small.

It's not like that anymore.

"Awe, come on, Gin," Charlie murmured. "No more tears. All the Weasleys are back together again!"

His words were just barely touched with laughter and Ginny couldn't find the humor in the situation.

Balls! She wanted to scream. All bloody two of us and you make a huge, sodding deal about it? Are you fucking mental? Did breathing in all those dragon farts cause you to lose your mind? Don't you remember Christmases with Mum and Dad, Percy, the twins, Bill, Ron and thousands of aunts and uncles? Don't you remember how it would be impossible to count all of us? Why was that taken from us – why?

Ginny felt torn in a terrible place – between trying to accept the horrible reality of the loss of her family or giving into to the little girl who wanted the wail, scream and beat her fists in anger and refusal to accept her lot in life. The emotions that raged within her caused Ginny to go limp in weakness, leaning her full weight against Charlie. That was when she chose to look up into his face hoping for answers. Charlie's brown eyes were filled with joy and hope and Ginny took in a shaking, watery breath as she watched him, first with fascination and then…realization.

He was happy.

I remember what it was like to be happy!

Roxanne was crying and for a moment Ginny listened to the bell-like laughter of her daughter and the way the boys doted on their new niece. Charlie pulled her along so that she was standing with her children and next to Angelina.

"You'll love her, you'll see. She's family now. We've lost so many of us but it's not over yet."

He put one arm around her shoulder, pulling Ginny close and kissing the top of her head just as he had done when she was a kid. She blinked and watched as Charlie leaned down beaming at Roxanne and Ginny had never seen such a…light shining on his face or a smile so warm.

She knew Roxanne wasn't biologically Charlie's but there was no doubt who her father would be.

Can I deny him such happiness? Can I fight this and resent all that's happened when he's suffering the same loss and has chosen to move on, to try and be happy?

Ginny offered Angelina a wavering smile, realizing she had little choice. She would have to swallow her bitterness and try to be happy too.

"You'll love being a mother," she managed, placing a hand on Lily's shoulder for a moment and finding another to run her hand through James' and then Albus' hair. Angelina's smile was tired but lit up the dark depths of her expressive eyes.

"I know it."

The declaration held no doubts; it was as certain as the sun in the sky. Ginny's attention was shifted then to the baby in Angelina's arms, the tiny feet kicking with strength and light brown eyes shining with wonder. She had caramel and cream skin with tufts of dark hair and, oh, she was such a tiny thing of perfection!

There was laughing and talking all around her and Neville's soft baritone as he insisted Angelina consume a potion or two to help with rejuvenation. There was Charlie's deep laughter that seemed to raise everyone's mood and Seamus' jokes that made Lily's giggling grow louder. Somehow, Seamus' laughter melting with her daughter's giggles warmed Ginny's heart.

She didn't hear the back door creak open and only glanced up just as Hermione walked across the threshold, two buckets of water in hand.

The two women stared at one another unmoving, emotions rolling across their faces much like the reels of an old film. Ginny felt it difficult to breathe.

I never imagined seeing Hermione again would be so difficult.

The voices and laughter around her melted together into one warm rush of noise and Ginny stepped around the group just as Neville moved to help Hermione with the water buckets. Ginny's eyes flickered from Neville and then back to Hermione, her thoughts mild and disjointed.

Always a gentleman, that Neville.

Hermione was different; she was…healthy.

Ginny's heart hammered with joy for her friend, seeing her well and thriving. The hungry, pained lines on her face were gone and she looked vibrant and filled-out. Her hair hung down her back in long, shining curls and her eyes were bright and sparkling. There was a flush to her skin, like she was glowing. Everything about her, the way she moved, the hesitant smile, the look in her eyes…it breathed of life….of health. And of hope. But the thing that evidenced the new life within Hermione was the slight bump around her middle. At the sight of Hermione's growing belly, Ginny's eyes filled quickly with tears.

"Hermione."

The word was breathless, as if Ginny had seen a ghost. Hermione took a step forward and then another, uncertain of what to say, or how to speak what was on her heart.

"Gin, I-"

"You're alive."

"I'm…I'm better than alive, I'm-"

As she spoke, there was that smile again and her long, pale fingers snaked across her belly with obvious pride and joy. Ginny swallowed back a biting remark, hating herself for wanting to scream.

It was Malfoy's; she didn't have a doubt in her mind. Hermione hadn't been raped. The bastards at the alienage hadn't been able to defile her that way. But she had offered herself to Malfoy. She had abandoned her family and those that loved her for Malfoy. She had stayed behind to be with Malfoy.

Ginny swallowed but the heaviness remained in her throat.

"C-can…we talk, please?" she managed to say thickly.

Hermione didn't hesitate, moving to touch Ginny's hand with a nod.

"Of course."

It was soft, that hand. But even so, Ginny didn't want Hermione's comfort that moment. She wanted answers.

The sun was bright on the hill that overlooked the distant sea. The weather was cold but there was no wind and the sun was melting the ice from the grove of trees that surrounded either side of the cottage.

Neville had argued that Hermione and Ginny might catch hold but neither woman had listened, slipping out of the cottage, the red-head following the curly-haired brunette. There was an unspoken understanding between the two females that what needed discussed would be private between them but that it needed discussed now.

The path was clear; Charlie kept it up quite well and up on the hill the trees shielded from the possibility of wind and all was quiet save for their similar, crunching footsteps. The cottage fell away behind them and soon the women were surrounded by only trees. That was when Hermione stopped and then turned slowly. There were tears sparkling in her eyes.

Ginny blinked.

"You're crying."

Her pale face clouded over with a frown. Hermione wiped her tears away with a trembling hand.

"I know you won't understand."

"What?"

"I saw your expression when you looked up and saw me," continued Hermione in a harried whisper. "You're still upset with me."

The red-haired woman hesitated, at first shaking her head no with vehemence and then stopping to try and say something, to assuage her guilt, but she couldn't. And Hermione's tears increased.

It was still strange for Ginny to see Hermione look so different; she wasn't a waif any longer. Even the scars that had been carved into her flesh like lightning no longer seemed so prominent. She felt the joy mix with resentment inside of her she hated herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to be happy for Hermione! Merlin's beard, if anyone had deserved another chance it was her beautiful, wonderful friend and sister Hermione!

Why does this bother me so?

Hermione gazed at Ginny in silence that seemed to be whispering a pleading prayer.

"I-I don't want to be upset, Hermione."

Hermione moved to say something but Ginny stopped her, needing to say what was coming without interruption. Tears filled her brown eyes; it was difficult to speak.

"I just want to be honest with you, Hermione. For the longest time after my brother and Harry…when they weren't around, you were the most important thing to me – the most important person in my life. That night…that night you stayed behind I-I thought I'd never see you again. I was…devastated. And you stayed…you stayed and I didn't trust him! I can't trust him, don't you see? He's the reason why all this happened; they all are!"

The agitation was mixed with freckles of fear. Ginny's look of plaintiveness was replaced by that of helplessness and Hermione moved her lips, willing something to come out.

Finally, it did.

"I can't help who I love, Ginny."

The tears that had been trembling while Ginny spoke fell from her eyes, staining her freckled cheeks.

"Why? Why did you leave me that night! Why did you fight so hard for Lily and my boys if you were just going to leave?"

She was sobbing, her hands clenched around the black traveling cloak she was wearing.

"Do you know how scared I've been? That you might die; that he might betray you! That I'd never see you again!"

Hermione reached out but Ginny yanked herself away from the possibility of being touched.

"H-He wouldn't have done that," said Hermione. "He…he loved me long before I knew how I felt! He healed those parts of me that others tore down!"

Ginny looked shocked, choking for a moment on her sobs.

"You say he loved you? You know that hands that heal can also bruise? You might not even know! You know how love makes us blind!"

Her jaw was set with stubbornness.

"The Hermione I know wouldn't blindly follow a wolf into his den! The Hermione I know wouldn't have left her family!"

Tears of pain and disappointed rolled thickly down Hermione's face and she wondered if she had felt the cruel sharpness of betrayal in this way before. Not the way it felt at the hands of Ginny, her best friend, her family. The one person she had trusted.

She could barely speak.

"I'm not blind," she whispered. "I know what I feel and I love what I know. His hands have bruised me, but so have yours! Look at what you're doing, Ginny! Listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?"

Ginny was enraged.

"If I've said anything it's to make you see the truth!"

"The truth is here!"

Hermione clasped her trembling hands around her growing belly. "This baby is the truth! This baby is what I have to live for now!"

Ginny glared.

"Malfoy's baby?"

Hermione was fighting against the harsh words on the tip of her tongue, wanting Ginny to understand while at the same time wanting her to hurt the way she was hurting right now. A part of her wanted to choke the life out of Ginny while another wanted to break down sobbing at the way she was speaking Draco's name. As if he were nothing; as if he were an abomination.

As the Ministry speaks of Muggle-borns like me.

She stopped, gasping for a moment, thinking back to the shadowy night in the London hotel, the night she had given herself to Draco completely. The vivid memories were made up of the shadowed, messy bed, Draco's white-blond hair and stormy eyes and the way he had accused the other side – her side – of prejudice. She had scoffed at him; she had derided him and defended herself and those that loved her. But the truth was written in Ginny's angry eyes. Prejudice was not indigenous of only one side. It was a painful reality for Hermione to accept.

She watched, tears in her eyes, as Ginny turned and rushed off further into the sleep-laced, winter trees.

I can't just let her go!

Without thinking of what she would say and how she could explain her feelings, Hermione broke into a run after Ginny.

"Wait!" she called out breathlessly.

Ginny had stopped and was leaning against a huge tree, her face pressed against a large, roughened tree trunk.

"Don't," she warned, her voice laced with sobs.

Hermione stood by helplessly watching as her friend cried brokenly.

"A Death Eater, Hermione!"

"No, Gin, he's not. Not the way you think!"

"How else can I think? What am I supposed to think when all I've seen is the horror that they've created!"

"I know, but he's not like them!"

"How can he not be?"

"He saved my life! Can you condemn a man who would be so selfless?"

Ginny turned, the tears streaming down her face matched only by the ones on Hermione's face.

"Can you absolve a man on one good action?"

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a broken, heavy sigh.

"I have to," she whispered.

There was a long, heavy silence before she could open her eyes once more.

"Why did you love Harry?"

Ginny let out a rough, choked sob.

"You dare bring up Harry-" she began accusingly, her brown eyes narrowing with anger. Something on Hermione's face stopped her; it was a look of pure pleading, of hope.

"I-I don't know," she admitted. "Loving Harry was never a choice."

There was a spark of something in Hermione's deep brown eyes – a glow of perpetual light.

"So you understand!" she breathed. "I never had a choice, Ginny. Loving Draco wasn't something I ever thought could happen and I can't tell you why…only that I do."

She covered her hands over her belly.

"I don't want you to turn away from me. Not when I found you again! Not when I have a new chance at life!"

Ginny had paled, shaking her head over and over as if forcing herself to try and forget what the other woman was saying.

"A new chance at life? Where is he, then? If he loves you so?"

Hermione's face fell and her tears increased, as her hands came up to wipe them away as she tried not to fall apart.

"He gave me my freedom, don't you see?"

She was sobbing.

"Away from him, and broken away from the Ministry I have a chance. I wanted him to come with me but he wouldn't. He said I wouldn't be safe with him and…"

She broke down completely and Ginny watched in shock. Something in her own heart trembled on the edge of a precipice and then she fell to her knees on the snow laden ground to gather Hermione in her arms and hold her close. She didn't understand a lot of things but she did understand heartbreak. And how could she abandon someone whose heart was breaking?

For the longest time there was no sound in the wooded glen but the sound of Hermione's sobs and the soothing whispers that Ginny pressed against her ear.