Hermione Granger looked out the rain lashed window and tried to keep herself from crying. Stupid hormones. Two days ago she'd looked at the little readout on the stick and confirmed what she'd known for almost three months but had been too terrified to admit. She was pregnant.
She pressed her fingers to her temples and tried to will away the headache.
She was twenty for Merlin's sake! She couldn't be…it just wasn't right.
The wizarding world was still in shambles. Her job at the ministry allowed her to provide the strongest case against criminals and she got to spend hours pouring through books. She enjoyed the job. She hoped for advancement and soon, but she was happy doing what she was doing.
She was in a happy—well at least satisfying—with Ron Weasley. The man had the ability to make her laugh like no one else, but also to drive her completely insane.
Her heart seized a little in her throat. It'd been a week since she'd heard from Ron. He'd left with Harry going after a Death Eater. There were still a few who claimed the title. Their crimes were sickening attacks on Muggles, but they lacked the stealth of true Death Eaters. Hermione tried to convince Harry and Ron that she thought the attacks were those of a more twisted and undisciplined group of dark wizards, but the hard-headed gits refused to listen to her.
Tears were slipping down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She stood up and pressed her hand to her stomach. It was swollen (she'd blamed bad food and weight gain for a while) and firm.
She paced the small living room of her flat, willing herself to fight the growing hysteria. She would deal with this a logically as she did everything else. She was making decent gold at the Ministry. Ron came from a big family, certainly he'd be pleased to help; Molly loved her grandchildren and spoiled them rotten. She'd certainly help. Of course there would be the backlash about them being young and not married.
Maybe Ron would want to get married…
Did she want to get married?
Her throat was tightening and she flung open the window not caring about the rain. She needed air.
She leaned on the window frame and inhaled deeply, the fresh spray of water helped to calm her just a little.
BOOM. The wooden door to her apartment blasted open. Hermione stifled a scream as she whipped her wand to eye level.
A man was standing in the doorway; his frame was muscular and toned. His hair dark was matted to his forehead. His dark robes dripped water onto her floor and a broom stick was clutched in his hands.
Hermione pressed her hand to her heart and let out a sigh of relief as Harry stepped into the room and magically secured the door behind him.
Relief at seeing him rushed over her and she rushed forward and flung her arms around him. "Harry! You scared me!" She squeezed him tightly and it suddenly dawned on her that he was alone.
Lead seemed to be building in her chest, she felt the weight of her realization pressing her down, and she struggled to take in a breath. "Where is he?" Tears threatened to overpower her pitiful words.
Harry looked down at her, sorrow etched in the firm lines of his face. He said nothing but pulled her to him and squeezed her tightly.
Sobs took over her body. She buried her face in his chest. Her fist pounded against his shoulder, hoping to fight away the onslaught of emotion. He couldn't…it wasn't possible. Not after everything .Not after the war. Not after Voldemort.
Harry caught her wrist and held her still; his cheek pressing against her forehead.
Hermione didn't know how much time had passed. She knew Harry was soaked enough that it transferred to her. She was shivering.
She tried to wipe her eyes and sniffled. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stuttered. "W-we sh-should get you s-some dry clothes."
Harry gently placed his hang under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. "We can't stay here."
Again it felt like someone had punched her. "What?"
"I think you're in danger. I came here to get you."
It's a new story and I'd love to hear some thoughts!