Fate, My Friend, You Say the Strangest Things

Hermione woke the following morning to the smell of eggs and bacon. She got up, and she saw that her clock read "6:47 am". She put on her robe, and she went to the kitchen to see who had invaded her flat to cook her breakfast. A tall, slender form with red hair she recognized as Ron had his back to her as he served three plates.

"Little Ron up yet?" he asked.

"It's 'Jamie', and no," she said, smiling. Ron liked the fact Jamie's middle name was named for him. "Why the breakfast?"

"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, grinning. "After all, you're always busy and such."

"I'm going to get washed up," she said. "I'll be right back."

Hermione went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and brushed out her hair. She went in the kitchen and sat down at the table across from Ron.

"This smells delicious. I didn't know you could cook, Ron."

"Mum had taught all of us at some point how to," he explained, digging into his eggs. There was a silence between them, and Ron finally asked, "Heard from Harry?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not in three years. You?"

"No. Truthfully, Hermione, I doubt he's coming back."

Hermione put her fork down. "I don't see why he hasn't. He has...had... a life here with us...with me."

"Did he know about Jamie?"

"No. When did he have the chance to find out?"

Ron looked down. "Hermione, my offer is still open, you know."

Hermione sighed. Ron had proposed to her at least five times in the last three years, the first time being when he found out she was pregnant and the chances of Harry's return were slim. Ron loved her with all of his heart, but she didn't reciprocate those feelings to him. She knew he'd take care of her, and he was quite a nice father figure for Jamie, but she wanted Harry to be her husband and Jamie's father.

"Ronald..."

"I know, Hermione, I know. You love Harry, but just think about. I'm here and Harry isn't."

"Ronald, I really don't want to talk about this now."

Ron knew not to press her when she called him "Ronald". He had matured (slightly) in the past three years to the point where he knew to stop pushing Hermione's buttons. He was still a little oblivious to the feelings of women, but he was getting better.

"Are you working today?" Ron asked her, changing the subject.

"No, I have the day off, so I was going to take Jamie to Diagon Alley."

"Okay, well, I'll see you around, Hermione."

"G'bye, Ron."

He Disapparated, and Hermione charmed the dishes to wash themselves. She heard Jamie wake up in his room when he called for her, and she went to him.

"Mummy, who was that?"

"Uncle Ron. You ready to get up and get ready for Diagon Alley?"

"Yes."

She helped Jamie in the bathroom with his teeth, and she gelled his hair down. She got him dressed, and she got dressed herself. She kept the flat a magic/Muggle one (she had electronics, such as a TV and phone, but they were powered with magic), and she and Jamie always dressed in Muggle clothes, except she wore her Healer robes to work.

She looked at herself in the mirror after she dressed, and her memories of three years ago were on her mind...

She had been throwing up. She been feeling sick all day long, and she was eating more than Ron did. Hermione didn't let that get in the way of her studies, but finally, Ron told her she had to go see Madam Pomfrey.

"Well, Miss Granger have both good and bad news for you," Madam Pomfrey said after checking Hermione over.

"Good news first, please," Hermione said.

"It's not the stomach flu. Now the 'bad' news is both good and bad."

Hermione's anxiety was growing. "What is it?"

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid you're pregnant."

***

Ron fell out of his chair. "You're what?!"

Hermione hid her face in her hands. "I know! I know! Oh, Harry! How am I going to tell him when he returns?"

Ron got back in his chair. "Has he owled you lately?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, and that worries me the most. Dumbledore has assured me that he is alive, but I want hear from him."

Ron nodded. "I'm sure he's...somewhat...fine, but listen, Hermione, how are you going to raise this child on your own?"

Hermione sighed. "It'll be August when he's born-"

"It's a boy?"

"Yes."

Ron smiled and nearly fell out of his chair, again. "Wow! A boy!"

"Oh, Ronald, sometimes you can be so-"

"Sorry, Hermione."

"It's okay, but listen, you cannot tell anyone, understand, Ronald?"

"Yes, yes, I got it."

"I mean it."

"I won't tell anyone."

Hermione got up and walked over to the window. She looked out over the snow covered grounds, and she wished she were standing there in Harry's arms. The Common Room was empty, with the exception of her and Ron, but they could be up later. Ron was still Prefect, and Hermione was Head Girl.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think is in store for us? As in you and me?"

Hermione turned and faced him. "What are talking about, Ron?"

"Marry me," he said, hurriedly.

"Ron..."

Ron bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you can't do this alone."

"I can, Ron, and I will. You know that I'm saving my left ring finger for Harry."

Ron nodded. "I know. The two of you...you truly are destined for one another."

Hermione, nearly on the verge of tears, looked out the window again. "I just wish he were here with me now."