Warning. Some reference to suicidal thoughts.

Ron's POV

'It's okay… shh. Deep breaths, Hermione.' Ron looked slightly helplessly at Hermione, who was shaking with sobs. He continued his rhythmical patting of her shoulder, feeling totally useless.

'I don't understand!' Hermione clutched at her face in distress, strands of sopping hair sticking to her tear-soaked cheeks.

'I know, I know… shh…' This was awful; Ron racked his brains for something more sympathetic to say but fell short. He flicked his wand at the kettle in the corner of the room and it began a low-pitched hissing as the water inside heated up; his mother was right, tea always helped to make things better.

'Why don't they….? I thought….? Oh Ron!' Hermione's speech was incoherent and she was shaking so badly that Ron felt sure she would fall off the sofa they were currently sat on.

They had just returned from the Grangers' house and, in spite of the plans they had made with Hermione's parents over the last two weeks, they had returned alone; on the eve of their departure back to England, Hermione's parents had decided that they wanted to continue with their lives in Australia. Ron recalled the Grangers' words to their daughter and shuddered with sympathy.

'Hermione, we understand that you did what you thought was best for us but we feel that you should've consulted us before you took away our memories and our lives...'

Mr Granger had trailed off and Ron had felt the first stirrings of unease as the uncomfortable pause had lengthened.

'The dentist practice back in England is gone and we've built a new life for ourselves here, Hermione. I know you want things to go back to the way they were but it really isn't fair for you to expect us to uproot our lives once again. We have decided that we want to stay in Australia.'

Usually Ron was the slowest to grasp a situation but Hermione had seemed very confused by her father's words and had stared blankly at him until her mother had broken the silence.

'You are welcome to stay here with us of course.'

At least they had parted company on good terms, Ron thought bitterly as he stroked Hermione's back in small rhythmical circles. It was just going to be horrible for Hermione to come to terms with the fact that her parents had refused to return to England with her.

When Hermione seemed slightly calmer, Ron risked leaving her alone on the sofa and crossed over to the kettle to make them both a cup of tea.

'You'll be able to come out to see them as often as you want. The ban on international portkeys has been lifted. You can come over once a week if you want to.' He handed Hermione one of the mugs and sank down next to her again.

'Thanks Ron,' Hermione gave a huge sniff and wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. 'It's just horrible knowing that I took away their lives. They had careers, they had friends and now…' She trailed off, her eyes still swimming with tears.

'You had no choice Hermione. If Bellatrix hadn't found them then V-,' he stuttered to a halt before trying again. '-Voldemort would have done. You had to protect them. It's hard for them to understand because your father sees himself as your protector but you're a witch Hermione and he's a muggle. They have no idea what they were up against last year.' He glanced surreptitiously at his watch, fully aware that they had less than half an hour before their portkey was due to depart. If they missed it then it would take at least three days to organise another. 'They have friends here now and they've both started new careers. You said that your dad's always loved baking but never had time for it and…'

'And Mum? Since when does she enjoy yoga? She never even set foot in a gym before she came here.' Hermione got to her feet suddenly and used her wand to banish her empty mug and Ron's half full one over to the sink where they rinsed themselves under the tap before standing upside down on the draining board.

'Hey, I was…' Ron bit back the words and got to his feet too, because he knew it was time to leave. He reached down with one hand to pick up their suitcases which had been bewitched to be feather-light. 'They're happy here. I know it's not what we expected but it could…' He trailed off and turned away. He had been about to say that it could be a lot worse, that Hermione was lucky to have come through the war with her family intact. He took a deep, steadying breath and blinked rapidly to disperse the moisture that had risen in his eyes.

'Let's go home Ron.' He felt Hermione's hand in his and turned to see her face, inches from his own.

'Yes, let's go home.' He leaned in and kissed her.

Tansy's POV

Tansy was sitting on a rolled-up towel on the shingle at the top of the little cove, looking out at the black headed gulls that skimmed over the water. Her arms felt empty without the baby but, for the past two weeks, Minerva McGonagall had insisted that Tansy take an hour or so for herself every day. Although Tansy didn't ever stray far from the small cottage, she had started to look forward to the time spent alone on the tiny shingle beach. Today, the sun seemed to be fighting a losing battle against the cobwebbed sky. Intermittent shafts of bright light made it through the canopy of clouds to reflect off the surface of the calm sea but, for the most part, the water was steel grey and it looked cold and unforgiving. Tansy shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around her; it was not a question of if it would rain before the end of the afternoon only when.

'Tansy!' Tansy turned round to see Minerva McGonagall beckoning to her from the open back door. 'Madam Pomfrey has called by to see you.' Tansy sighed inwardly but got to her feet. After one last glance at the steely water she walked through the narrow cleft between the boulders and across the overgrown garden, steering well clear of the snargaluff stump. When she reached the back door, she allowed her adoptive mother to give her a hug. Inside the tiny living room, she could see Madam Pomfrey waving her wand over baby Hope.

'So Madam, another two ounces since I last measured you.' The baby squirmed under the wand tip and then let out a muffled noise of discontent. 'And you just left me a present in your nappy I see.' Tansy found herself smiling as the matron scooped up the baby with one arm and turned towards her. The baby wriggled again and then started crying properly.

'Ah Miss Laverstock, you are looking so much better. I'll just change this one and then we can have a chat.'

'I'll change her. Third time she's filled her nappy in the last hour.' Professor McGonagall stepped forwards, her arms outstretched.

'Well she's got a lot of growing to do.' The matron smiled as she handed over the baby.

Tansy reached out to touch her daughter's downy head as the baby was handed between the two older witches. For half a heartbeat she resented their easy banter. She wanted her daughter to hear her voice.

'And you've put on a few ounces too.' The matron was waving her wand over Tansy as she spoke. Tansy glanced down at her body and tried not to grimace; she'd always been thin and now, although her jeans hung loose around her skeletal legs and her arms were like sticks, her stomach still ballooned under the hoodie she'd borrowed from Harry. She felt so uncomfortable in her own skin. Her body didn't feel like her own any more.

'Your body will go back to the way it was, Miss Laverstock. Don't forget that you carried a life inside you for over six months. What your body achieved was amazing especially as you were so unwell.' Like Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey had always been able to tell how Tansy felt without the girl needing to open her mouth.

It's what I wanted. It's what I chose. I chose to give her life even if it meant that I had to die. Tansy felt herself blushing as she realised that she actually felt slightly proud of herself for finally making the right choice.

It wasn't such an admirable gesture. I wanted to die. I craved death. The thought was sobering and confusing because, right now, Tansy couldn't work out how she felt; there was still a large part of her that craved the easy way out and the end of the pain and the horrified confusion of waking up to a world where she had to accept the dreadful things she had done and the equally dreadful things that had been done to her. But, at the same time, she knew that she was stronger now; before the blood magic ritual, she'd been tortured and abused almost to insanity by Voldemort and her mother and there had been no other way out that she could see. Now, it was no longer just about how she felt and what she wanted because she had a daughter to consider. Tansy knew she wasn't the best mother in the world but she also knew that she wanted to do the best job that she could.

'… and the baby bump is already a lot smaller than it was. Give it another month or two.' The matron was still speaking and Tansy dragged herself out of her thoughts with some difficulty.

'So, how are you feeling?' Tansy tried to meet the matron's eyes but it was difficult.

Why do you all still talk to me as if you are expecting me to answer? Instead, Tansy shrugged and looked down at her hands.

I feel as though I'm crossing a bridge of spun glass over a bottomless chasm. One false step and the glass will shatter and I will fall and Hope will be left without a mother.

'It's obvious to me that you are extremely traumatised and you are still hurting deeply.' Tansy looked up sharply at the matron's words.

'You feel as though you are still fighting only this time the war is going on inside your head and you are fighting it alone. I haven't asked this before, Miss Laverstock, and I'm sorry to ask now but I want you to stay safe. Do you feel like you did at the start of your fifth year? Do you feel like you are going to hurt yourself? Are you feeling suicidal?' Tansy gasped quietly, sure that the matron had been reading her mind, and shook her head quickly but Madam Pomfrey clearly didn't believe her.

I won't leave my baby again. Not if I can help it. Tansy was fully aware that she wasn't always in control of her own mental health. She felt her eyes filling with tears at the thought of Hope growing up without a mother.

The silence stretched uncomfortably and Tansy found herself dropping her eyes again.

'Is the sleeping potion still working?' Tansy looked up and shrugged again, then she shook her head.

'What do you mean Tansy?' Professor McGonagall had returned. She crossed the room with swift steps and gently placed the baby back on the sofa, carefully covering her with a red knitted blanket that Mrs Weasley had sent over the previous day with Harry when he had visited. Tansy crossed over to the sofa and lifted the baby into her arms, immediately feeling less panicked with the damp, solid weight of Hope against her chest. The baby turned her face into Tansy's shoulder, gave a small contented sigh, and shut her eyes.

'What do you mean?' Minerva McGonagall repeated, placing a hand on Tansy's shoulder. Tansy looked up into her adoptive mother's eyes, almost pleading with her; she wanted very baldly to explain but, at the same time, the thought of speaking made her tremble with fear.

'Write it down, Miss Laverstock.' A pencil and an old parchment envelope were handed to her and Tansy relaxed.

I'm afraid that I won't wake up if Hope cries.

Tansy's pencil skidded to a halt. Minerva McGonagall sighed as if she was disappointed.

'Does this mean that you haven't been taking it?' Tansy shook her head and picked up the pencil again.

I take a mouthful but only enough to send me to sleep.

'So, you've been getting how much sleep before the nightmares wake you up? One, two hours maximum?' Madam Pomfrey asked, shaking her head. Tansy held up two fingers but then pointed to the baby in her arms, indicating that after two hours or so, Hope generally needed seeing to anyway. Professor McGonagall always got up to help and she had offered to have Hope in her room so that Tansy could catch up on sleep but Tansy hated the idea of being away from her baby.

'Miss Laverstock, look at me. Will you believe me when I tell you that you will always wake up when your baby cries?' Madam Pomfrey said, still shaking her head in apparent annoyance at Tansy's disobedience. 'You will never get well again if you aren't getting enough sleep.' Tansy looked at her levelly and then picked up the pencil again. Her hand hesitated over the parchment as if she was thinking what to write.

You've lied to me before.

The two other women looked at each other and then Professor McGonagall sighed and stepped forwards. She opened her mouth to speak but Madam Pomfrey got there first.

'Tansy, I promise that I am not lying to you. You will hear Hope crying if she needs her mother. She won't let you sleep through her cries.' Tansy recoiled slightly as the school matron used her first name for the first time. 'You will always know. A mother will always wake up when her child needs her.' The matron said firmly, leaning forward and tickling the sleeping baby on her cheek.

The afternoon passed slowly; after the matron had left, Hope was irritable and unsettled and Tansy found herself near to tears as she struggled to work out how to make her comfortable; she just felt so unbelievably exhausted and out of her depth. Professor McGonagall tried to help but, having had no children of her own, she was almost as clueless as Tansy. Hope seemed happiest when Tansy lay on her bed and she could lie across her stomach with her head snuggled between Tansy's breasts. Finally, after several hours of grizzling, the baby dropped into a fitful sleep but without the sleeping potion, Tansy found it impossible to follow her. She was so tired she couldn't summon the energy to get up again and simply lay on the bed staring up at the dusty ceiling in a stupor.

She heard the crack of apparition and wondered idly who had arrived, not caring enough to get up and look out of the window to find out. Then, hearing Remus's voice and his footsteps on the stairs, she quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. The bedroom door creaked open and Tansy tried to mimic the peaceful, rhythmical breathing of someone who is fast asleep. Remus didn't venture any further into the room but it seemed an indefinite amount of time before he backed out again, pulling the door shut behind him.

'They're both asleep.' He spoke in a low voice, and Tansy realised that Minerva McGonagall must be on the landing behind him.

'That's a blessing I suppose but she's bound to have a nightmare soon. She hasn't been taking her sleeping potion, Remus. She told us that she was afraid that she'd sleep through the baby crying.' A faint sigh, like someone muffling a sob. 'Poppy is concerned that she might try and hurt herself again. I don't know how to help her.' Their footsteps receded away down the stairs and their voices grew fainter.

'We can only show her that we are all here for her.' Remus's voice strengthened suddenly as if he'd forgotten that they were trying to be quiet. 'Minerva, Tansy knows we're here for her. I just wish she would let us help her when she needs it most. Her mutism has been so much a part of her life for so long that I doubt she will ever be completely free of it. I've spoken to…' The living room door swung shut with a click and Tansy heard no more.

Her mind was spinning faster than it had for some time as she fought with herself. Of course, they would all turn away from her as soon as they found out the truth about what she had done to George Weasley at the manor. Simultaneously, she was terrified that she was fighting a losing battle against the darkness inside her; she was scared of just how fast she seemed to be slipping into the fog as she tried to fight it by herself. If she lost the battle then Tansy knew there was a good chance she would try and take her own life and then little Hope would be left without a mother.

'Minerva, Tansy knows we're here for her.' Remus's words echoed in her mind and she suddenly found herself thinking of a similar conversation with Remus in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

'I just… I know that you know that there are people around who will listen to you, whenever and whatever your problem. I just wish that you'd let yourself get our support when you need it most.'

Tansy felt her heart rate speeding up in her chest as she made up her mind: She could ask for their help to fight the impending darkness and the fog without telling them what she had done to George. They didn't need to know everything that had happened.

Carefully, to avoid jostling the baby, Tansy sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She arranged Hope in a nest of pillows and then picked up a quill. With a shaking hand, Tansy placed the quill point down on the parchment. The words that came to her were the same ones she had thought earlier when the matron had questioned her.

I feel as though I'm crossing a bridge of spun glass over a bottomless chasm one false step and the glass will shatter and I will fall I feel as if I'm drowning in darkness I was ready for the end I wanted to die I cast the blood magic ritual sacrificed my own life while carrying another and I betrayed Hope I was ready to die given a choice I came back so she could live I woke up she is alive but now I don't know how to live again I don't know if I want to live

The war is over but I feel as though I'm still fighting

The quill skidded to a halt and Tansy stared at the almost illegible handwriting that scrawled across the page. Reading it back made her heart skip and, recognising the impending panic attack she stopped trying. She took a deep, steadying breath and got shakily to her feet; if she could make it downstairs then Minerva McGonagall and Remus would help her.

Hi everyone, one of my new year's resolutions is to finish this story so I hope to be back more regularly from now on! Thanks for your patience and support.