Chapter One: Goodbye Hermione
Hermione hurried into the cool house, away from the heat of the muggy August evening. She kicked of her sandals in the entryway and pulled out the envelope the doctor had given her.
"I am going to be a mother," Hermione thought happily as she ripped it open, and pulled out an official looking paper, stating her condition, the approximant date of conception, and the estimated date of delivery.
"Harry! I'm home, and I have some news," she said happily into the lounge. She looked again, to see no one occupying her husband's usual chair. She walked slowly into the room, seeing a stack of Daily Prophets sitting on the coffee table. She picked up the most recent edition reading: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the Remaining Death Eaters Still on the Loose!
Hermione sighed sadly. Harry promised her he would be home by today, not matter what happened. It was their two-month wedding anniversary! She looked on top of the fireplace mantel for any post that might have come. Her heart leapt when she saw one letter sitting there, addressed to her. She tore it open happily, knowing it was Harry telling her he got caught up in France, couldn't get a port key.
Dear 'Mione,
I know you really want to be seeing Harry's hand writing right now, but that isn't possible. He was at the Ministry this morning, looking like he hadn't eaten in days, rambling on crazily about Crabbe and Goyle, and how they slipped right though his fingers. He didn't talk to me very long, but he mentioned something about your anniversary coming up. I'm sure he is in France right now, catching those two bits of filth and bringing them back to Azakaban. I know you are upset but there is nothing he, or you can do about it. I see you later. Parvati sends her well wishes.
Your friend,
Ron.
Hermione slumped down in the nearest chair, and read the letter over and over again.
"He has been gone for three weeks with out one letter, but finds time to talk with Ron. There is something wrong with this situation," Hermione thought bitterly, and threw the letter into the flames.
She didn't remember when she started to cry, or when she fell asleep, but she knew when she woke up, she was scared to death. A loud booming noise resounded though the small house, startling Hermione from her restless sleep, to full awareness and fright. Wide bars of sun were filtering through the blinds, causing her to squint as she fumbled her way to the door, turning the lock with trembling hands.
She flung open the heavy door to see Ron, who looked like he had just been through hell and back.
"R-R-Ron? What is the matter? Come inside, you look like hell." Hermione took his arm and guided him into the lounge and sat him down on the love seat.
"Whatever you have to say can wait. You need cleaned and bandaged up," Hermione scolded, taking the corner of her shirt and dabbing some blood away from his face.
"No, 'Mione, you must hear this now," Ron croaked out, grabbing her arm before she could even take one step.
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Ron, what is it? What has happened?"
"It's Harry. He's lost. No one knows where he is. We are almost certain he was killed by the last remaining cell of Death Eaters."
Hermione's face went white. "A-are you sure? Ron, please tell me you aren't certain."
Ron took Hermione's hand and guided her down on the seat next to him. "We found his glasses and wand blood spattered and broken at their hideout."
Hermione gasped, tearing falling down her face. "No, this can't be! Harry isn't dead…He's alive…He can't-" Hermione choked on her sobs, and buried her face in Ron's dirty robes.
"I am so sorry, Hermione…"Ron trailed off, his voice shaking, letting his own tears fall down his cheeks, leaving clean lines in the mud and blood.
"Happy anniversary to me," Hermione said softly into Ron's chest.