A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.
Yeah, my life is what I'm fighting for
Can't part the sea, can't reach the shore.
And my voice becomes the driving force.
I won't let this pull me overboard
God, keep my head above water
Don't let me drown, it gets harder.
I'll meet you there at the altar.
As I fall down to my knees
Don't let me drown, drown, drown,
Don't let me, don't let me, don't let me drown
~Head Above Water by Avril Lavigne
A/N: Trigger Warning- PTSD and Postpartum Depression
~*~ 11th January 1999 ~*~
Dear Harry,
I feel like I am drowning. I don't know how else to describe it. I got my second-to-last block of assignments from McGonagall and Flitwick. I'm juggling studying, revising, caring forRosella, assignments, and it's like my third year all over again. I've bitten off more than I can chew. Rosella is getting closer to sleeping through the night and only wakes once to be fed, thankfully.
You are missing out on so much. Sometimes, it physically hurts to think about how much I miss you. I wonder where you are and what you're doing. Why you aren't coming home? If you even think of this as home anymore.
Ron is starting Auror training today. Because of who we are, he is getting special treatment and is able to join Neville's training squad. I worry about him. He was helping George and Fred with the store to help it get started again. Now that the Grand Re-Opening has ended, things have calmed down, and they don't have much for him to do, so he is joining Neville for a sense of purpose.
Purpose. I have turned into Rosella's mum. I don't hate my life, don't get me wrong, but I feel lost, Harry. No direction. No purpose other than what Rosella needs for the moment.
Hermione looked up from her journal as she heard a squeal. Rosella was on the floor on her belly as Molly cooked at the stove. A spoon in her hand as she smacked it on the floor.
"Go ahead, stir it," Molly said with a smile as she looked down at Rosella. "Oh, my sweet little Rosie."
Sighing, Hermione watched Rose as she pushed herself up on her tiny arms, and Molly looked back at Hermione.
"I think she will be crawling before we know it," Molly told her. "Growing up so fast!"
Hermione bit her lip. "She is. Way too fast."
The floo lit up, and Hermione closed her journal to see Ron step out. "Hey, Ron."
Ron cleaned himself of soot with a sweep of his wand, then took off his cloak. "How are my girls doing?"
Hermione watched him as he walked over to Rosella, pulled her up off the ground, and swept her into his arms.
"Hello, beautiful."
It was as if the air was ripped from her lungs, and the room tilted as black took over her vision.
Hands were suddenly on her arms again. Grimy, dirty, holding her back as Harry and Ron were separated from her. Someone was breathing down her neck. The stench of unwashed skin, body odor, and her wand was missing.
Her stomach twisted as she clawed at the hand on her throat.
"Hermione, Hermione… are you okay?" Ron's voice was coming closer.
Hermione blinked as Ron took her hands in his, pulling them away from her neck.
"It's just me, it's Ron… just focus on me."
Hermione gasped as Ron's face came into focus as she struggled to catch her breath. Her vision started to clear. Ron's blue eyes were wide with concern. Letting out choked breath, she realized that the hands on her throat were tears, and she was gasping for air, her lungs trying to remember how to work.
"Hey… hey, it's just me. Look at me. You're safe." Ron said, running his hands down her arms. "You are here at the Burrow. You're with me and Rosella. You're safe."
Hermione looked over and saw Molly holding Rosella, looking concerned. "I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, wiping her face. "I'm okay. I just…"
Ron pulled her into his arms. "I don't know what triggered it. But you don't have to explain it. I get it. We all have our bad days."
Hermione pressed her face into his shoulder and nodded. Instead, she smelled Ron's soap, soot, and sweat. The moment had passed, but the memories stayed with her.
"Are we ready to eat?" Molly asked.
Ron touched her face, grounding her, "Are you okay?"
Hermione felt like a wrung out sponge as she nodded.
Ron stood up and took Rosella from Molly. Closing her eyes, she took slow, steady breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.
Opening them again, Ron was setting Rosella into her highchair. Molly put the first dishes on the table, then walked over to Hermione. "Are you okay, honey?"
Hermione swallowed hard, "Yeah."
Ron walked over to Rosella and sat down next to her. "Well, how about we have…. Pureed carrots today. We haven't tried that one yet."
Hermione watched as Ron tried to put a spoonful in Rosella's mouth.
Ron grinned, "I think she…." He said as Rosella spat it out, tiny particles landing all over his face. "Okay, not a fan of vegetables so far."
Hermione cracked a smile, swallowing hard as she picked at the food Molly had set in front of her.
~*~ 15th February 1999 ~*~
The lamp Hermione was using cast flickering shadows on the kitchen walls as she fought to keep her eyelids open. Everyone had already gone to bed, and Hermione was trying her best to focus as she worked on her charms essay.
Rosella had been asleep for nearly two hours now, and Hermione knew she had at least an hour, if not two, before she would wake up to be fed. The silence in the house, which she usually craved, felt like the house was suffocating her.
The ceiling chandelier lit, making Hermione cover her eyes and realize the tea she had made was whistling as Molly rushed over and removed the kettle from the heat.
"Merlin, Hermione, you could burn the house down," Molly told her, "Is your head in the clouds? Need some tea?"
Hermione blinked at her as she rubbed her eyes, "Sorry… I must've spaced out."
Molly poured two cups of water and placed a tea ball in both. "That's normal, dear. Don't think I didn't notice. You must be so tired after studying and caring for Rosella. Happens to all of us after a baby."
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, that's all. I'm tired."
Tired. So tired. She hadn't slept through the night in weeks. Even when Ron had taken over feedings or rocked Rosella to sleep, Hermione would be wide awake, listening for her cries. Making sure she was breathing right.
Worse was when the odd paralysis hit. Hermione didn't dare ask Molly if it was normal. But sometimes, as Rosella cried, Hermione's body wouldn't let itself go to her right away. A strange hollowness would take hold of her body.
She loved her daughter, but love didn't take away the emptiness. The tears that would come in the middle of the night for no reason. It didn't take away the ache in her chest that wouldn't leave.
"Ron says she laughed at him this morning," Molly told her, cradling her cup of tea. "A big gummy grin."
Hermione gazed at her cup, pushing the tea ball down only to watch it rise.
"You're doing wonderfully," Molly assured her. "You know, most witches are a bit weepy at first. Just the baby blues. I had it with all of mine, well, not with Bill, or maybe I was too busy to notice."
"Baby blues," Hermione stated.
"It passes," Molly told her, finishing her tea. "Now, you should put the essay aside and go get some rest while you can."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but didn't feel like it, so she stood, nodded, and made her way up the stairs.
Glancing in at Rosella, she seemed like she was sound asleep, as was Ron. Slipping into bed, she lay on her side. The house was quiet, too quiet. She heard the ticking of the clock, which echoed in her head, and the creaking of floorboards as Molly walked up the stairs.
Despite nearly falling asleep downstairs, she couldn't shut her mind off. She felt like she was unraveling.
Grabbing her journal, she opened it up.
Dear Harry,
Something is wrong with me. I'm exhausted, but I still can't sleep. I feel underwater. Ron is training with Neville, and I am stuck here. Stuck in the Burrow, and stuck in my studies. Molly calls it baby blues, but I think it's more. I just don't know how to fix it. I love Rosella, but I feel stuck. I want to go home. I want my Mum and Dad. I want you.
Flicking her wand at the page, she duplicated it and folded it, sending it to her desk to send it in the morning.
~*~ 1st March 1999 ~*~
Hermione lay on her side, wide awake despite only getting maybe four hours of sleep. The early morning light was already coming through the bedroom curtains. Sighing, she stared at Rosella's cot. On the other side of it was Ron's bed. His back was to her, his snoring showing that he was sleeping while she was not. He would have another hour or two before he had to leave for training, despite it being his birthday.
A loud knock startled her, and she sat up as Ginny came into the room, and Ron rolled over.
"Happy Birthday, Ron! Mum says breakfast is ready," Ginny told him.
Ron groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "Tell her we'll be down soon."
Hermione stood up, untwisting Harry's old Quidditch jumper, and looked inside Rosella's Moses basket to find her awake. "We're going to have to start thinking about a crib now that she is sitting up."
Ron yawned as he sat up. "Yeah, we don't want her climbing out of that. She's already pulling herself up on it a little bit. I put a spell on it so she wouldn't fall out."
"Good thinking," Hermione mumbled as he stumbled out of the room.
Hermione scooped Rosella up and took her to the changing table to change her. Taking her onesie off, she noticed the dried milk on it from the previous night. Her nappy was full and had leaked through. She should have checked her. She should have changed her earlier.
Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she changed Rosella, as the smell of Cinnamon filled the room from downstairs. Zipping her onesie, she carried her downstairs, where Molly was standing at the stove as Ginny, Arthur, and Ron talked at the table.
"Hermione, there you are. Sit, dear," Molly told her. "Ron, eat up! You don't want to be late for work."
Hermione hesitated as Ginny held her arms out for Rosella before handing her over. Ginny took her and sat on the floor with her.
Hermione walked over to the kettle and poured herself a cup of tea as Crookshanks rubbed up against her legs before going over to Ginny.
Ron chewed on his sausage, staring at Crookshanks, "I can't believe that menace found its way back."
"Be nice to my cat," Hermione told him as Molly exclaimed.
"Look at you, clever girl!"
Hermione froze as she watched Rosella drag herself forward toward Crookshanks, not fully crawling but using her upper body strength.
Crookshanks moved over to her and sniffed at Rosella's hair. Rosella reached out to him, and before Hermione could move, Crookshanks batted at her, and Rosella began to cry. Hermione stood up, but Molly was already there, scooping her up. A red scratch was obvious on her tiny face.
"It is just a scratch," Molly stated, "A bit of dittany salve and she will be right as rain."
Hermione stood staring, "I should have…" she swallowed hard.
"Crookshanks didn't mean it. Babies are curious, and he isn't used to her yet," Molly told her.
Looking at Rosella's tear-covered face, Hermione only saw her failure.
Hermione sat back down, picking at her food until Ron had to head to the Ministry.
"You okay?" Ron asked Hermione.
Hermione nodded, "I'm fine. Go, you'll be late."
Ron nodded as he followed Arthur out the door.
Rosella was napping upstairs while Hermione sat at the kitchen table, still wearing Harry's jumper, her hair thrown into a bun. The Daily Prophet was on the table, on the front page the headline made her heart race.
Wizengamot Proposes 'Bloodline Verification' for Department Positions.
Scanning the article, it stated that members of the Wizengamot had proposed testing all workers to determine the origin of their bloodlines. Disguised, she feared, as another means for bias. Another wall for Muggle-borns to climb.
Hermione turned the page with shaking hands, only to find the headline: Where is Harry Potter?
Every so often, people would write in, saying that they had seen someone who could be him. Some feared the worst, that he didn't make it after the final battle. One even said that someone Polyjuiced themselves to accept his Order of Merlin. But today, there was a blurry photo. A man who sure looked like Harry. Walking along a snowy street in what was labeled as Scandinavia in December. It had to be around Christmas, judging by the lights in the background.
He looked thin. Tired. Just like her.
Hermione traced the picture with her finger. She missed him.
A cry came from the playpen in the sitting room. Hermione stood up, the chair scraping the floor. Picking Rosella up, she checked her nappy, and she was clean. Offering her breast, she suckled for a bit before crying again. Bouncing her, nothing was soothing her. Before she realized it, she was crying along with Rosella, rocking her gently as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Rosella nestled in her chest, little hiccups taking over her body as she calmed, falling back asleep in her arms.
Hermione gently set her back in the playpen, then walked over to the table, lying her head on the table as she wept.
/\/ <3 /\/ 19th March 1999 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry sat in the Pyrenees Mountains of Mount Canigou, looking out from his campsite at one of the most beautiful waterfalls. The ice had frozen at the top, providing picturesque views of the waterfall.
"Harry, I will go find more leaves for tea," Pierre, his instructor, stated.
Harry nodded as Pierre went down the path below. Taking out his parchment, he smiled, thinking of Hermione and Ron.
Dear Hermione and Ron,
I am here in the Pyrenees Mountains learning from the Trementinaires. They are women from the Pyrenees Mountains, whose traditional medicine fell out of practice decades ago. They have taught me ways to use the Gentiana, the Pyrenean violet, and wild thyme with mountain licorice, to make teas with melted snow off the mountains. These teas do amazing things. The magical community uses phytomedicines to cure spell damage alongside the herbs. Hogwarts had us in this box with herbology and potions. This is so much more Hermione than I ever would have imagined, and I cannot wait to show you what I've learned.
I haven't heard from anyone since before your birthday. How is everyone doing? How is Hogwarts with the recovery? Write back soon!
Harry
Folding up his letter, he put it into his rucksack. When they get back to their campsite, he would have someone take it to Beauxbaton for them to deliver it for him. Looking back at the horizon, he wondered how Hermione was doing at Hogwarts and all the things she was learning.
~*~ 13th April 1999 ~*~
Apparating to Shell Cottage had been hard for Hermione. But she did it. The ghosts of her memories haunted her here. It had been just over a year since she had been here last, where they had escaped with their lives.
Hermione could still see where Dobby was buried. The small cottage was still perched next to the edge of the sea, its weathered wood and stone calling out to her as Hermione walked the path she did not recall having walked before, having been unconscious at the time. She pulled the traveling cloak tighter to her body as the sea breeze pulled at it, her bag pulling at her shoulder, her arms empty without Rosella.
Tonight would be the first night she would spend apart from Rosella, and her body ached with worry.
The door opened before she could knock, and a glowing, obviously pregnant Fleur greeted her. "'Ermione!" She beamed, her hair braided.
She looked beautiful, because of course she did. The kind of radiance that only Fleur could pull off, less than a month from birth.
Hermione gave her a small smile. "You look amazing."
Fleur laughed, pulling her into a hug, pressing a kiss on both her cheeks. "You are much too kind. I look like an overfilled crepe."
Hermione followed her inside, her fingers twisting the strap of her bag between them. "No, you do. Truly. Much better than I did."
After some light conversation about what Fleur had been up to: Working with Bill, trying to bridge the widening gap between the goblins and the wizards after the war, as well as much talk about Rosella. When an owl appeared at the window.
Professor Flitwick had sent along a practice set of NEWTs, full-length, timed, and with detailed instructions for Fleur to follow. The Weasleys had agreed that it would be quiet here, that it was better for Hermione. Three NEWTs today: Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy. Tomorrow, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Potions, and Transfiguration. Then she could go home. Well, the only thing she had that was one right now.
But as Hermione sat at the kitchen table, she couldn't focus.
The parchment in front of her blurred, and her fingers were trembling around the quill. Every voice sounded like crying or Rosella getting into something. Was Rosella missing her? Was she taking the bottles for Molly?
Taking a deep breath, she started her Charms NEWT. Less than two hours later, Fleur came back in as Hermione rubbed her burning eyes.
Fleur took her parchment as Hermione got up to get a snack from the kitchen. Munching on apple slices as Fleur compared her answers to the detailed feedback instruction that Flitwick had given. She nodded. "You would get top marks, 'Ermione. Very detailed answers."
Fleur looked at her, "Arithmancy or Defense next?"
Hermione looked out the window at the sea as it felt like everything was closing in on her. "I failed."
"Pardon?" Fleur asked, confused.
Hermione's throat felt like it was closing. "I feel like I failed. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm a sham. I'm supposed to be brilliant. The Brightest Witch of my Age, according to headlines. The Golden Girl. I'm supposed to have all the answers, but I can't even sit for a practice exam without freaking out!" Hermione said, pulling at her hair, "I miss Rosella so much I feel like I can't breathe, and I'm worried that none of this will matter. No one will care. I am a Muggle-born, single mother. Who would hire me?"
"'Ermione, being a mother doesn't define you. You survived something that most witches will never understand. You are a brilliant witch, mother or not," Fleur told her.
Hermione wiped at her tears. "Thank you." Taking a breath, she swallowed hard, "I'm just going to take a quick walk, and then we can do Defense."
Leaving the cottage, Hermione wandered up to where Dobby was buried and fell to her knees. "Oh, Dobby, what is happening to me?"
~*~ 14th April 1999 ~*~
It was late in the afternoon by the time Hermione finished her final NEWT practice test. After a night of barely sleeping, missing Rosella, and feeling overall disgusting at Shell Cottage, she thanked Bill and Fleur for their hospitality before leaving for the Burrow.
Stepping out into the sitting room, she saw Ron standing in the kitchen with Molly, holding Rosella.
Ron's eyes met hers, and he smiled. "Look, Rose, there's Mummy."
Hearing Ron call her Mummy made something sink in her chest. No... don't call me that. She wanted to scream as she approached them.
"She missed you," Ron told Hermione, who took Rosella and breathed in her baby scent.
"Ba ba…. Ba," Rosella babbled, patting her face.
Hermione kissed her little hand as Rosella looked over at Ron and yelled, "Da da!"
Ron's smile lit up his face as he reached for her, and Hermione handed Rosella to him. "Did you hear that? Da da!"
Hermione nodded, turning so he couldn't see her lips quiver. She wasn't crying because she said it to Ron. She was crying because it wasn't Harry, and she wasn't sure if Rosella would ever know him. Ron was here, kind and present, but he wasn't Rosella's father.
"I'm going to go clean up," She whispered as she headed up the stairs.
That evening, after Rosella had been put in her crib for the night, Hermione walked downstairs and sat down on the sofa in the sitting room. Ron walked over to her and sat down beside her, placing his arm around her shoulders.
"You're going to get top marks," Ron assured her, rubbing her shoulder, "You know that, right?"
Hermione stared at the fire. "Then what?"
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
Hermione bit her lip watching the flames dance. "I don't know what I want to do," she confessed. "I used to have this plan. Now I can barely think past tomorrow. Everything is different, and who knows who will even hire me?"
Ron pulled her closer, and she laid her head on his shoulder. "We will figure it out."
~*~ 16th April 1999 ~*~
Hermione was sitting, folding more laundry as Rosella played on the floor, when the floo lit up.
"Is anyone there? It's Minerva McGonagall."
Molly walked over to the fire, "Come on through, Minerva."
Out of the fire stepped the Headmistress herself.
"Molly, Hermione," She greeted as Rosella squealed and Ron walked over, grabbing her.
"Sorry, she's having some stranger anxiety," Ron told her.
McGonagall walked over and smiled at her, "Hello Rosella."
Rosella peeked out from Ron's chest and smiled.
McGonagall looked at Hermione, "Her eyes are getting greener every time I see her."
Hermione sighed, "Yes, they are."
"Please, Minerva, have a seat," Molly stated as she hurried into the kitchen.
"Thank you, Molly," she said as she sat down in Arthur's chair. "I received Professor Flitwick's report. Your scores were commendable."
Molly came back into the room with a tea serving tray. "Tea?"
"Surely," Minerva said, taking her tea and fixing it the way she wanted. "I've made arrangements for you, Hermione. You'll take your NEWTs in a secure location on the 20th and 21st of May, with full privacy. The Ministry has approved it."
Hermione stared at her, "I don't get to take them at Hogwarts?"
McGonagall visibly swallowed, "No, I am sorry. The governors did not allow it."
Hermione nodded slowly. "Thank you. I just… I wish I could be with the others."
McGonagall smiled at her. "Miss Granger, I will make sure that whatever you wish to do, you can do."
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry as McGonagall stood. "You haven't failed, Hermione. Not by a long stretch. The system just is not ready for you."
Hermione nodded, but her heart wasn't sure.
~*~ 1st May 1999 ~*~
The clock on the mantle struck five, and Hermione was fighting with her eyelids. She hadn't slept at all the night before. Sitting beneath the patchwork quilt on the corner of the Burrow's sofa, Harry's old jumper in its usual spot, on her like a second skin. Burying her nose within it, if she fooled her brain enough, her preservation charms had worked, and it still smelled faintly of him. His soap and fresh-cut grass, with a bit of broom polish. Rotating her neck around, trying to pop it, her left eyelid started to quiver again as her curls that were piled upon her head tried to fall out of the bun she had put them in.
Staring at the fire, her eyes were dry and burning again. The nightmares from the night before clung to her. Smoldering flames. Screaming echoed through her head. The dust and grime of battle settled into her lungs. Flashing of spells. Harry being carried out of the forest. His body limp, and his arms hanging as Hagrid carried him.
Glancing away from the fire, she saw the invitation sitting in front of her. The seal was broken as it lay open.
Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley, you are cordially invited to attend the first annual Battle of Hogwarts Memorial Ceremony…
Hermione didn't finish re-reading it as she crumpled it in her hands, throwing it into the fire.
Rosella squealed as if congratulating her for making it, as Hermione watched it catch, the parchment blackening as it curled up, folding in on itself as if it were cursed.
Footsteps creaking down the stairs made her look away from the fire as Molly and Arthur appeared in their finest dress robes from Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Molly paused in the doorway as she looked at Hermione. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the memorial, dear?"
Hermione pulled her blanket tighter, "No. I don't want to leave Rosella alone with anyone. You guys go. I need to finish up my last assignments anyway."
Molly frowned, picking up her robes. "Everyone understands, Hermione. But it might do you some good to be there. With friends. With people who also-"
"I know," Hermione interrupted, "I just… I can't."
Arthur gave her a small nod, then went into the kitchen.
Ron came down the stairs, tugging on the collar of his Auror robes. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he paused when he saw her. "I thought you changed your mind and were wearing that white robe."
Hermione shook her head. "Decided against it. Give everyone my best."
Ron crossed the room, sitting in front of her on the coffee table, and touched her knees. "What if Harry comes? Kingsley invited him.
Hermione swallowed hard. "Then bring him over, but he won't be there."
Ron looked like he wanted to argue but instead leaned forward pressing a kiss on top of her head.
"Ron, honey, we're going to be late," Molly told him from the fireplace.
Arthur and Molly left in a swirl of green, and Ron gave her one last look before following them.
Silence. A hollow one at that.
From her playpen, Rosella gurled as she played with the plush dragon that Uncle Charlie got for her.
Walking over, she grabbed Rosella and laid down on the sofa, her feet touching the other end. "Just you and me, Rosella." She said as she rubbed Rosella's back.
The soft ticking of the clock on the mantle and Rosella's breathing filled the room. Rosella stretched across her chest, her little fingers holding onto her daddy's jumper. Hermione smiled, her fingers running through her daughter's curls, so much like her own.
She didn't mean to fall asleep. But the floo roaring, green filling her eyelids, startled her awake. She reached for the wand that wasn't there as she sat up, letting go of Rosella, who slipped down into Hermione's lap. Letting out a loud wail, she flailed in Hermione's lap, confused. Hermione didn't even register who came through.
"I'm so sorry! Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione panicked, pulling Rosella back to her chest, kissing the top of her head as her hands shook. "Mumma is so sorry. Mumma is so sorry."
Rosella only cried harder.
Ron was suddenly in front of her. "Hermione? Breathe, honey."
Rosella twisted in her arms at his voice, reaching out. "On!"
Ron gently scooped her into his arms. "Shhh, it's okay, Rosie," he murmured, rubbing her back. He paused and sniffed, "No wonder you're so upset. You're stinky."
Ron stood up and looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who was trying to breathe through her tears. "Hermione, she woke up stinky. You know how she hates it," he told her gently. "She's fine. I'll take her up and get her changed."
Hermione nodded, staring at the coffee table, thinking of how Rosella could have rolled off onto the coffee table.
Someone sitting down next to her made her look over to see Neville.
"Oh, Hermione," he said softly. "You're not doing well, are you?"
His voice broke her, and she collapsed sideways into his arms, shaking. "No, I'm not Neville."
He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back. Pulling away, he cupped her face gently, brushing her tears away with his thumb. "You were my first friend, you know?"
Hermione looked up at him, "What?"
"You came and saved the day for me on the train. First year. You didn't have to. No one ever had before," he smiled. "You stepped in where no one else would."
Hermione let out a breath.
"You look like you need someone to do that for you now," he said, "Tell me what you need. How can I help you?"
Hermione looked up at him. "Bring Harry back."
Neville's smile fell from his face as he pulled her close, holding her as she sobbed. "I wish I could."
The fireplace lit up again, and Arthur stepped through, pausing when he saw them. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Hermione said, wiping her eyes, "What's wrong?"
"Bill just sent me a message. Fleur is in labour," Arthur stated, grabbing Molly's bag. "Are you sure everything is okay?"
Hermione nodded, "Just tired."
"Just making sure," Arthur said, looking around, "Tell Ron, would you?"
"Will do, give her my love," Hermione said as Arthur flooed away.
"Hermione, it's okay to ask for help," Neville told her.
Hermione sighed as she laid her head back against the couch.
/\/ <3 /\/ 12th May 1999 /\/ <3 /\/
"Thank you for having me, Madame Maxime, and pass my regards to Hagrid, if you will," Harry stated as he walked out of her office.
"You are welcome back here, whenever you need," Madame Maxime stated, her heavy hand on his shoulder, "We all carry pain, Monsieur Potter. No shame in giving it time but reach out to those you left behind."
Harry nodded as he walked through the halls of Beauxbaton, so different from the familiar halls of Hogwarts. Heading to the hospital where Pierre was, he felt a sense of guilt within him. Regret for leaving.
Walking inside the school's hospital wing, sunlight poured into the windows, and the familiar scents of potions and balms filled the air. He walked over to the Master Healer, his teacher for these last months.
"Bonjour, Harry." He said as he saw him.
"Bonjour, Pierre," Harry said, looking at one of the students with a smile, "I am about to leave, but I was wondering if you had a piece of parchment and a quill that I might use? I want to send a letter to my best friends."
"Of course," Pierre stated as he led Harry to his office, "Use what you need."
"Merci," Harry stated as he sat down at the desk and picked up the quill.
Hermione and Ron,
I haven't received a reply since my last letter, so I just wanted to check in and hope everything is all right with you. I imagine life has kept you busy, with Ron at the Ministry, Hermione finishing Hogwarts, and wherever the day takes you.
I just finished a six-month study at Beauxbatons, and in the Pyrenees Mountains. The experience was incredible. I learned to harvest wild mountain herbs and use them to craft teas and phytomedicines that help with everything from minor aches to long-term spell damage. The magic of the natural world is so much deeper than I ever knew and more ancient than I ever imagined. I've only just begun.
I hope to use what I'm learning to help those still carrying the scars of the war, visible or not. It feels like for the first time in a long while, I'm doing something that helps.
From here, I'll be heading to Africa. If you told me a few years ago I'd be traveling beyond London, let alone the continent, I wouldn't have believed you. And yet, I am. Learning, growing, finding a new path.
I hope you're doing well. Write if you can.
Harry.
Setting the quill down, he stared at it a moment before folding the parchment. Looking up, he saw Pierre standing in the doorway.
"Could you send this for me?" Harry asked.
Pierre nodded, "Of course. I will take it to our owlery before sundown. Who does it go to?"
"Hermione Granger," Harry told him, handing it to him. "Merci."
"It was a pleasure to work with you these last months, Harry," Pierre told him, shaking his hand, "Keep in touch."
~*~ 15th May 1999 ~*~
Hermione sat cross-legged on the rug, quill in hand, parchment in front of her on the coffee table as she worked on her final assignment. Her eyes flicked over her conclusion one last time before she signed her name and dropped her quill.
"Done," she whispered, rubbing her tired eyes. "Just need to revise it."
Hermione looked up, at a delighted squeal, to see Rosella gripping the edge of the coffee table, rocking on her little legs. She smiled then froze as she pulled herself up on her chubby legs, wobbling on her tiny feet. Gurling with a smile, she squealed in happiness.
"Rosella!" Hermione gasped, crawling over to steady her. "Such a big girl you are."
Molly walked into the room and gasped, nearly dropping the teacup in her hand. "Oh, Merlin! She's pulling herself up already!"
"Such a big girl," Hermione said, kissing her cheeks.
Molly's eyes widened. "Oh my word! We have to baby-proof this house immediately!"
Hermione looked at Molly, "Molly, she just is pulling herself-"
But it was too late. Molly marched out of the room, wand in hand, muttering protective spells. Cabinet doors sealed shut, corners of the table rounded off. Hermione had to duck as a charm ricocheted off the bookshelf as it came tighter onto the wall.
By the time Hermione had put Rosella down for her afternoon nap, Ron was home from the Ministry, and he had woken her up screaming. "Mum! I can't open the bloody toilet!"
"You'll thank me, Ronald Bilius, when Rosella doesn't drown in it!" Molly called out.
Hermione smiled as she rolled over, glancing at a sleeping Rosella through the slats.
Later that night, Hermione had climbed into the attic after putting Rosella to bed, hoping to get a breather after she had revised her assignment. The ghoul gave a grumble from his corner, rattling the pipes a bit. But she didn't mind him.
Hermione opened the window, cool air hitting her face. The sounds of the rest of the house were far below her, feeling distant. For the first time today, she didn't feel suffocated.
Squinting in the distance, she heard the beating of wings. In the moonlight, she could see an owl's wings. Stepping back, the owl flew through the window, startling the ghoul as it flopped onto a dusty trunk.
"Oh, it's all right," Hermione assured the ghoul, "It won't hurt you."
The owl stuck out its leg, and an envelope was tied to it. Hermione took it off, and the owl flew off. Glancing in the low light, her breath caught in her throat at the handwriting.
She hurried down the attic steps, the letter clutched tight in her hand.
After getting past their room, she yelled, "Ron! Ron! Harry wrote to us!"
As she reached the ground floor, Ron had just knocked over his chair and was standing at the foot of the steps.
"What did he say?" Ron asked.
"I haven't even read it yet. It just came!" Hermione said anxiously as she unrolled the parchment.
Hermione and Ron,
I just wanted to check in and hope everything is all right with you. I imagine life has kept you busy, with Ron at the Ministry, Hermione finishing Hogwarts, and wherever the day takes you.
I just finished a six-month study at Beauxbatons and in the Pyrenees Mountains. The experience was incredible. I learned to harvest wild mountain herbs and use them to craft teas and phytomedicines that help with everything from minor aches to long-term spell damage. The magic of the natural world is so much deeper than I ever knew and more ancient than I ever imagined. I've only just begun.
I hope to use what I'm learning to help those still carrying the scars of the war, visible or not. It feels like for the first time in a long while, I'm doing something that helps.
If you told me a few years ago I'd be traveling beyond London, let alone the continent, I wouldn't have believed you. And yet, I am. Learning, growing, finding a new path.
I hope you're doing well. Write if you can.
Harry.
Hermione stared at the parchment long after she finished reading. Passing it to Molly, she walked over to the window, staring out of it. "He was in France. This whole time, he was just in France," Hermione whispered.
Ron picked up his chair and sat down. "Sounds like he left. Wonder where he's going now."
Turning to the clock on the wall. She and Rosella had been added to it, both their portraits now tucked under 'Home', how she wished that Harry's hand was on that clock, too.
~*~ 20th May 1999 ~*~
Candles hovered over her desk, giving her final NEWT exam of the day a soft glow. Her Arithmancy NEWT was the last of the day, and her eyes were getting tired, the equations seeming to dance on the page.
She blinked hard.
It was late. Rosella should already be in bed. One of the conditions for having her exams proctored was that they couldn't take place until Professor Flitwick, and tomorrow, Professor Sprout, finished their classes at Hogwarts. So she found herself sitting at a long oak desk inside a small private wizarding school in London, while Ron and Rosella were at home in bed.
Professor Flitwick sat up front, reading as the soft ticking of a clock kept the time.
Hermione straightened her back and tried to focus. The numbers were running together, vectors melting into runes, equations overlapping, and their digits repeating until they didn't make sense.
Rosella had woken up four times last night. One time screaming, once just not sleeping, and twice to be fed and changed. She sat up, staring into the dark, listening to her breathing, waiting for it to stop. Some nights, she'd already been asleep by now.
Not here. Not taking the biggest exam of her life.
Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and went back to the equation. Only four more to go.
"Miss Granger…"
"Miss Granger…"
Some horrible dream, where she was back at Hogwarts and had fallen asleep in an exam.
A hand on her arm. "Hermione!"
Hermione's eyes flew open, gasping as she lifted her head from the desk, parchment briefly sticking to her cheek before it drifted to the desk.
"Oh no!" She moaned, "I fell asleep… I fell asleep!" Hermione cried, straightening her hair plastered to her face.
Professor Flitwick collected her exam. "Miss Granger, you were nearly done. You fell asleep on the last question. You only missed one line of equations."
Hermione pressed her palms to her face. "I can't believe I fell asleep during my NEWTs, this isn't like me."
Flitwick took her exam to the front and then walked back over to her. "Hermione. I've known you since you were a child. You were a girl who asked for homework on the first day. Your eyes have bags under them. You're exhausted, more than in your third year. Are you sleeping well at night?"
Hermione shook her head, her eyes wet. "Not in a long time."
Flitwick nodded, "A new mother, and still the same student I remember, always pushing, always expecting more of yourself than anyone else would dare."
"But I can't take Dreamless Sleep," Hermione told him, "I breastfeed."
"I know you. Don't you have bottles that Mr. Weasley can use?" Flitwick asked.
Hermione blinked. "Those are only for emergencies."
"Hermione, I would think the biggest tests of your life would qualify," Flitwick stated.
Hermione bit her lip.
That night, after checking on Rosella, who was sound asleep, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed in her nightdress.
Ron rolled over to look at her. "How were your tests?"
Hermione dropped back against the pillow, flinging her arm over her eyes. "I fell asleep, Ron. During my Arithmancy exam."
Ron laid on his back. "You haven't been sleeping, Hermione, even with Rose doing better lately. You're still up half the night. Are they nightmares?"
Hermione nodded, "And the worry. I keep waking up thinking I hear her gasping for air. It's not real, but I can't stop listening to her."
Ron sighed. "Mum has a sleeping draught downstairs."
"Flitwick gave me Dreamless Sleep to take home, too," Hermione told him.
"Take both," Ron said as he sat up, "It won't hurt you. Get a good night's rest and be ready for tomorrow. You've got four more, Hermione. You've made it this far."
Tears slid down her face toward her ears. "I'm a single Mum, Ron. I have to do this myself. I have to be able to do everything."
Ron sat at the edge of her bed and brushed away her tears. "You're not alone. I'm god-dad, remember? Let me do it. Please. I'll take tomorrow off. I want to. It's not what I thought it would be."
Ron stood up, grabbing his dressing robe. "Let me go get the sleeping draught for you."
Hermione lay in silence, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything closed in on her again. Her body hurt, her mind raced. "I'm such a failure." She whispered.
~*~ 21st May 1999 ~*~
A full night of uninterrupted sleep had done her wonders. Her hands weren't shaking. Her head was clear for one of the first times in months as the fog was cleared. Smiling as she answered every question with ease, Hermione quickly finished her final exam.
Standing, she walked over, handing the scroll to Professor Sprout, who smiled at her with pride.
"Well done, dear," Sprout said, "You've worked harder than any student I've known, under more pressure than anyone could ever carry. You should be very proud of yourself."
Hermione nodded, giving her a small smile. "Thank you."
Stepping out into the cool London night, the stars above seemed clearer. She had done it. She would graduate from Hogwarts, and her NEWTs were complete.
Apparating back to the Burrow, it was quiet when she arrived. The clock ticked slowly, and the fire crackled were the only sounds heard as she took off her cloak, hanging it up. She paused, seeing a familiar shape on the sofa.
"Ron?" she whispered.
He sat up, his hair a mess and his eyes tired.
"What are you doing awake? You have work in the morning," Hermione said quietly.
Ron blinked, then shrugged. "I quit."
Hermione froze, "You… what?"
"I quit the Aurors," He told her, "The hours were too long. I'm not enjoying myself, and you need help."
Hermione sat on the armrest. "No, Ron. You can't give up your career because I'm a failure."
Ron looked at her, "Who called you a failure?"
Hermione looked away from him.
"I'm the failure," Ron said quietly. "I put all this on you, even in school. I never thought about how you were feeling. I let you carry it all. Rosella was sick when she was born. Hogwarts made you study in secret. You're raising Rosie and doing all your assignments while I was training for the Aurors. I've been selfish."
Hermione bit her lip, and Ron stood up.
"But that's done. I swear to you, I'm going to help more. You can depend on me, Hermione. You should depend on me. You don't have to do it all," Ron told her.
Hermione let out a breath slowly. "Now that I've graduated, I can start applying. Maybe the Ministry will see me differently now."
"They'd better," Ron said, grinning, "And if they don't, fuck them."
"Ron!" Hermione gasped, laughing.
"I'm serious. We'll find something better. I'll be home with Rosie in the meantime. Maybe business will pick up again at the shop. I can help the twins," Ron told her.
Hermione rubbed her face. "What did I do to deserve you?"
Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it's more me making up for being a shite friend at Hogwarts. Taking off on the hunt and all. I'm trying to be a better person."
Hermione took his hand in hers. "And we're lucky to have you, Ron. Rosella and I both."
"Well, remind me that in the morning, when she throws food at me again," Ron told her.
Hermione laughed, a real laugh for the first time in months that she could remember.
~*~ 24th May 1999 ~*~
Harry,
It was such a relief to see your letter. I can't tell you how much it meant to hear from you.
Ron left Auror training. He realized pretty quickly it wasn't quite the adventure he imagined. We're all learning that life after the war isn't what we hoped. The Ministry is slow to change. Kingsley is doing his best, but there is a lot of resistance. Too many people are still holding onto outdated traditions and beliefs.
I graduated officially. By Owl Post wasn't quite how I imagined finishing my education, but I passed all my NEWTs. Not as well as I'd hoped, but I'm a proper witch now. The world isn't exactly ready to welcome me into it. I've applied to several positions, but an unmarried mother doesn't seem to be a candidate of choice. It stings more than I'd like to admit.
Still, I keep trying. I've got Rose (yes, Molly wins), and somehow, she makes everything feel like it will be all right.
Your travel adventures sound amazing, Harry. I'm happy that you've found something that speaks to you and brings you healing. You deserve that. I hope you keep learning and finding moments of peace. I hope that someday you'll be home to share it with all of us.
Take care of yourself. Write again when you can.
Hermione
~*~ 4th June 1999 ~*~
Sitting outside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione opened her portfolio again. This was her first interview, and she was nervous. Her resume showed she was highly qualified, with seven NEWTs. Top marks in all but her Arithmancy, where she fell asleep, and she still earned an Exceeds Expectations. Top marks in all subjects this year, with references from Professor Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, and even Slughorn.
Yet, as she sat watching people come and go, she felt like a rock was in the pit of her stomach. Her interview had been pushed back twice already. Twice, the receptionist had stood telling her that the director had something come up. Twice, a wizard older than her had been called back.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione stood, and the witch behind the desk smiled. "I'm so sorry," She stated, "The Director had something come up and has left for the day. You'll need to reschedule."
Hermione's heart fell. "I had to reschedule yesterday."
"I'm afraid so," She said, looking at a book, "I can owl you with a new date, but he's a very busy man. He can meet with you on the 7th of July."
"July?" Hermione whispered.
Hermione swallowed back her anger and gathered her bag, walking out of the DMLE.
~*~17th June 1999 ~*~
Over the next two weeks, Hermione had grown increasingly disappointed.
On the 8th, she had an interview with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, just to gain entry to the Ministry. After sitting for over two hours, she was informed that the wizard hiring team had never received her application. She was advised to reapply, and next quarter, when they conducted more hiring, they would notify her.
On the 10th, she had an interview scheduled for the next day. Still, she received a short letter thanking her for applying, but "we regret to inform you that we've decided to pursue other candidates whose current situations offer more flexibility." Hermione could read between the lines at last on that one.
On the 15th, she at least got an interview with the Department of Magical Creatures and had informed them of her SPEW campaign and her wishes for Werewolf Rights. After giving them a detailed plan, she thought it went well.
Until today, when she received the letter:
Dear Ms. Granger.
The Department of Magical Creatures appreciates your time this week and values your ideas. Unfortunately, after a recent departmental assessment, the position you applied for is no longer available. We hope you find a role that helps you balance your responsibilities as a new mother and recognize your talents.
Hermione crumpled the parchment in her hand and threw it toward the fireplace. Ron caught it in mid-air and uncrumpled it.
"This is rubbish," Ron said in disbelief.
Hermione sat down at the table, holding her head. "At least the Department of Magical Creatures was honest. They told me I was overqualified, but I am a Muggle-born and a single mother. No matter how much they pretend that the war changed things, the old bloodlines still run everything."
Ron sat next to her, "But your name is attached to mine. We are engaged in the eyes of the magical world. You'd think that would help."
Hermione looked at him, "Remember, the Weasleys are blood traitors, Ron. We were loyal to the wrong people in their eyes. People who upset the system."
"Should we get married?" Ron wondered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You aren't listening. It wouldn't matter. We fought the war for them. We bled for them, but when it comes to rebuilding the world? I am not welcome in it."
Ron wrapped her in his arms.
Hermione mumbled into his shoulder. "I didn't survive a war to be told that my place is at home like a good woman should."
~*~21st June 1999 ~*~
The late morning sun spilled pure through the Burrow's open window as Hermione sat in the sitting room, reading through the Daily Prophet. Scanning the Classifieds for the third time this week, she looked at the Help Wanted page.
Apothecary Assistant – Experience Needed, Mastery Preferred.
Ministry Scribe- Part-time – Flexible Hours needed
Hermione exhaled as she folded the page shut. Across from her, Rosella stood, holding the edge of the coffee table, babbling to herself as she cruised along it. Her curls were lit by the sun as her tiny fists held tight to the wood.
Molly walked into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. "Still nothing?"
"Nothing that I'm qualified for," Hermione told her, tossing the paper onto the coffee table.
"I still say you need to talk to Arthur. He could speak to someone at the Ministry," Molly told her as a breeze from the open window caught the newspaper. It floated through the air and gently landed on the floor.
"I appreciate it, but I want to get into the Ministry on my own merits," Hermione told her.
"I know you do, but that doesn't mean…" Molly trailed off.
Both women watched as Rosella stared at the paper, turned, and let go of the table.
For a split second, Hermione couldn't breathe.
Rosella wobbled, then lifted one foot, then the other. Three tiny, unsteady steps. Then she dropped to her bottom, giggling as she grasped the newspaper.
Molly gasped, "My word! She walked!"
"She did," Hermione said, her heart hammering in her chest.
Molly swooped in and scooped Rosella into her arms. "Oh, my little Rose, you are getting too big! Let's get you a treat for that, yes, we will."
"No sugar!" Hermione called up as Molly swept her away to the kitchen.
Hermione stared at the spot where the paper lay. She wasn't smiling. She should be, shouldn't she? Her daughter had taken her first steps, and Hermione felt as if she were watching through glass.
She heard Molly singing in the kitchen. She knew she should be the one in there with her. Celebrating. But here she was still stuck. Stalled.
~*~25th June 1999 ~*~
"Hermione?"
She heard Ron's voice. Really, she did, but maybe just maybe, if she pretended that she didn't, he would leave her alone.
"Hermione?" he said, gently touching her shoulder.
Hermione groggily turned onto her back, blinking slowly.
"Hermione, it's one in the afternoon and you're asleep!?"
Hermione rubbed her eyes.
"Where is Rosie?" Ron asked, looking around.
"She said something about taking her to Fleur's," Hermione mumbled, sitting up.
Ron frowned as he sat at her feet. "Hermione, I know something is wrong. Just tell me how to help."
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know, Ron. I don't feel like myself. How can I help you with that?"
Ron touched her arm. "When's the last time you showered?"
Hermione opened her mouth, then realized, "I… I don't remember."
"It's been days, Hermione," Ron told her gently, "You always wear Harry's jumper, and your hair…"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled the scrunchie from her hair. "My hair is fine. See?"
But the scrunchie didn't come out. It was tangled within her hair. As she pulled again, she tried to use her hands to untangle it, and her engagement ring tangled within the strands, falling deeper into the thick mat.
She crumpled, with her hand still tangled in her hair, and began to sob.
Ron just reached out and gently began to untangle her fingers from her hair. Never pulling.
"Hermione," he whispered, "This isn't normal. Something is wrong."
Hermione didn't fight him. She just cried as he worked.
"I don't know what's happening to me," She whispered, "I feel like I'm underwater and I can't breathe."
Ron rested his forehead against hers. "Come on, let's go get you clean. You aren't alone."
She didn't argue as he took her hand.
"Then, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's. We will figure this out together," Ron told her.
Hermione hated how sterile St. Mungo's felt. Down to the air it seemed. So much more than a Muggle hospital was.
Sitting on the examination table, she held her eye as it started twitching involuntarily again. Just the corner of the eye, just as it had been doing for months now.
"Is your eye hurting you?" Ron asked, looking up from his Quidditch Today.
"Nah, just tired," Hermione told him as the Healer looked up from the diagnostic scan and lowered his wand, canceling it.
"No broken bones, no curse damage. Your nervous system is magically stable. You're a young mother, right?" He asked.
Hermione nodded, "Yes, my daughter Rosella is almost one. These… symptoms started after she was born. I've had headaches, exhaustion, panic-"
The healer waved his hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. "You're just tired, dear. I'm sure you've had a rough few months. That is all. I'll send you home with a week's worth of Pepper-Up Potion, and you'll be right as rain."
Ron stood up, "Sir, I don't think she's just tired. She doesn't eat, she barely sleeps. She cries for no reason. I think something is wrong-"
The Healer looked at Ron, "I'm sorry, are you the professional here? Did you attend Healer training? Did you sit for your certification for spell-based diagnostics?"
Ron looked from the Healer to Hermione, "Well… no."
"Exactly. Pepper-Up, Miss Granger. Twice a day. Get some sleep. Rest when the baby naps, take a break from housework for a few days, and you'll be fine." The Healer turned away from her, and with a lazy flick of his wand, a prescription came out of it. "You don't need to overthink things. Everyone's exhausted these days."
With a click, the door shut behind him.
Hermione stared at the spot he had just vacated, her hands shaking. Then Ron exploded.
"What the fuck?! Is he serious? He didn't even ask you anything, and what you did tell him, he didn't even listen! He just looked at that scan thing and handed you a potion!" Ron paced.
Hermione couldn't even form the words. Her throat was tight.
"He didn't even listen to how long this has been going on, how you felt!" Ron said as he stopped pacing and looked at her, "Hermione, say something."
Hermione shrugged, "What am I supposed to say, Ron? That I'm shocked? I'm not."
"But this isn't right," Ron said, taking her hands.
"No, it's not," Hermione sighed, "But let's see how this works. Maybe taking a Dreamless Sleep, getting more sleep, and this Pepper-Up twice a day will help. I have enough breastmilk for a week. I'll give it a week."
Ron nodded, "If that's what you want." He helped her off the table and put his arm around her. "Let's go get this filled at the medi-witch station, and we'll get you home."
Preview of Chapter 21 – My Immortal
Luna, her wand behind her ear, looked at Hermione. "Still no luck with the jobs?"
Hermione shook her head. "No," she sighed. "At least some of them were polite rejections. Most of them just lied about forgotten appointments and lost applications."
Ginny frowned. "This is madness. You had the best NEWTs in years. You've helped save the wizarding world, hold an Order of Merlin, and everyone else is finding jobs. Luna is helping her dad, while Ron is back with Fred and George, and Neville is assisting Sprout now that he has left the Aurors. It makes no sense.
Hermione sat back in her chair. "Welcome to my life, Gin. I'm being punished for being young, stupid, and thinking we were all going to die. We didn't plan for survival."
Luna walked around the table and sat beside her. "Do you need help planning Rosella's birthday party?"
Hermione shrugged. "Molly's doing it all. Honestly, I've barely done anything. It's not like I have any family to come to it. Just the Weasleys."
Luna reached for Hermione's hand. "We are your family."