Chapter ten was so long (what can I say, I got a little carried away) that I had to split it up, so this is part one of two. My beta, AurorGirl 101, and I have put a lot of effort into it, so we hope you like it. Remember to review! I've missed reading your comments!
What Lies Ahead
(Part One)
“Hello,” said Hermione brightly, talking to the owner of Flourish and Blotts. “I was wondering whether you could help me set up my books for the Transfiguration courses at Hogwarts?”
“Are you a student?” asked the old man behind the counter, not even glancing at her.
“I’m the Transfiguration professor,” said Hermione, feeling awkward. “Hermione Granger.”
“Oh, yes,” said the man, looking up from his book, “the bright one. It’s nice to see you again! Tell me what you need.”
After Hermione had sorted out the list of books for the courses she would be teaching, she made her way downstairs to pay for the new copies of Advanced Transfiguration she wanted. She had also stacked several books she had been craving for ages; she was levitating some of them and the others were balanced in her arm, so her field of vision was blocked. She couldn’t see she was about to bump directly into the man walking into the store.
“Dear”Mother”of”Merlin!” the man exclaimed in pain, as all of Hermione’s books fell on his feet.
“I am terribly sorry,” said Hermione, quickly bending over to pick up the books. She didn’t even dare look at the man; she was sure her face was scarlet.
“Wow, you sure seem to like reading,” he said, helping her with the books.
“Yes, I read a lot,” said Hermione, laughing nervously. She quickly darted a glance at him, immediately thinking, Have I seen him before?
“I’m really sorry,” she said once more, as he helped her carry the books to the register.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, flashing a stunning smile. “If you hated reading I wouldn’t have met you.”
Is this man flirting with me? Hermione thought, blushing even more.
“I’m Michael, by the way,” said the man, extending a hand. “Michael Sandford.”
“I’m Hermione,” she said, as her hand met his. “Hermione Granger. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Excuse me, Hermione,” said Anne, appearing at the study’s door.
“Huh?” responded Hermione distractedly. She was sitting on the windowsill, book in hand, looking out the window.
“Oh,” said Anne, scanning her eyes around the messy room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“I’m sorry Anne,” apologized Hermione, looking tired. “Daydreaming... How can I help you?”
“I was just wondering whether you could talk to Michael about getting someone to get rid of the garden gnomes outside,” said Anne. “I tried to kick them out myself, but two of them already bit me.”
“Why don’t you leave a note on top of the kitchen counter?” Hermione suggested, standing up to store the book she was reading, Advanced Transfiguration, inside one of the many boxes that lay open around her.
“Of course,” said Anne, feeling uncomfortable. “Er... do you need any help here?”
“I’m fine,” Hermione lied. She picked up her old copy of Hogwarts: A History, and sat down.
“Right,” said Anne slowly, walking away.
Over the last couple of weeks, it seemed that Hermione had undergone a radical change. The Hermione Anne had met just a few months ago had disappeared, having been replaced by a Hermione that barely talked, barely went out, and barely ate. If Hermione hadn’t been bothered by something, she would have spent the days preparing the room for the baby, talking to Anne, or even going down to Diagon Alley to go on a shopping spree. On the contrary, the only time Hermione had ventured out of the door, planning to visit Flourish and Blotts, she came back quickly after leaving, looking flustered and dishevelled. When Anne asked if she was okay, Hermione practically ran up the stairs and locked herself in her room.
Yes, it was safe to say that Hermione Granger had definitely changed.
Not that Michael had been there to notice.
He and Hermione barely saw each other anymore. There had been a coldness steadily growing between them.
Anne had been there to notice though. And she had been there when Hermione needed her the most. When she felt sick, when she felt sad, and when she felt alone. Still, it was hard to help someone who thought she didn’t need any help. Anne had been doing everything she could to keep Hermione distracted, but this week she had gone too far. Anne thought she had a good idea about what was bothering Hermione, since she had been around long enough to know that Michael Sandford was no Prince Charming.
Last Monday, Hermione had locked herself in Michael’s study, taking with her six or seven boxes she had brought down from the attic. Those boxes had her old Hogwarts things: essays, pictures, even an extendable ear or two. No one knew why she was acting like this, and she was going to make sure things stayed that way.
“Hello!” exclaimed Beth brightly, as soon as Anne opened the door.
“Good morning!” said Anne. “What... erm... What brings you here? Is Hermione expecting you?”
“Actually, I was hoping to surprise her. Is she around?”
“Yes...” Anne hesitated.
“Brilliant!” said Beth, walking into the foyer. “Where is she?”
“She’s in Michael’s study, but“”
“Thanks!” Beth told Anne, already heading to the study.
Once she got to the room she tried to open the door, but she was surprised to find it locked. After she knocked on the door a couple of times, there was a bit of commotion inside the room as Hermione shouted, “Just a minute!”
Beth stood there, confused, waiting for Hermione to open the door. After a minute”or possibly longer”Hermione emerged, clad in pyjamas and wearing a sleepy expression on her face. She seemed to be making a huge effort to keep her eyes opened.
“Beth!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“I... I wanted to... surprise you,” stammered Beth, looking at Hermione with concern. “Are you alright?”
Hermione, who had bags under her eyes and whose hair had returned to its usual frizzy self, tried to smile, but grimaced instead.
“I’m fantastic!” she answered.
“Um, are you going to let me in?” asked Beth uncomfortably.
“Of course!” said Hermione, reluctantly moving away from the door.
The only thing Beth could do was gasp as soon as she entered the study. There were boxes everywhere: some were open, others were closed. The desk had many papers on top of it, accompanied by books that Beth had not seen since she graduated Hogwarts.
“What is this?” she asked.
Hermione’s face turned a deep shade of red.
“I’ve just... Well, I’ve been reading a bit and... Well these are some my old Hogwarts things...” muttered Hermione nervously.
“You do realize you’re not making any sense,” said Beth, who was still looking around the room.
“How are the children?” asked Hermione, desperate to change the subject.
“Wonderful,” said Beth dryly. “But I believe the real question here is: how are you?”
“I’m fine,” said Hermione, providing her default answer to the question she had been asked so many times over the last few days.
“Sure you are.” The sarcasm in Beth’s voice was unexpected. “Uh, when was the last time you went to see Ryan?”
“Ryan?”
“Ryan Martin?” Beth tried to clarify. When it was obvious that Hermione had no idea of who she was talking about, she exclaimed exasperatedly, “He’s your doctor, Hermione!”
“Oh... Beth, I’ve just been so terribly busy ever since I came back...”
“I can’t believe you! This isn’t you! You’re one of the most responsible people I know!”
Hermione’s eyes started to well up.
“Listen, why don’t you go upstairs, take a shower, and I’ll take you out to lunch?” asked Beth, realizing that she was losing her temper.
“Why don’t you tell Anne to put on the kettle?” said Hermione as she went out of the room.
“Okay,” said Beth, heading towards the kitchen.
As Beth entered the kitchen, she found Anne reading at the table.
“Hi,” said Anne. “Need anything?”
“I just need to know where the kettle is,” said Beth, looking around.
“Oh, I can take care of that,” said Anne, getting up.
“No, no,” said Beth quickly, “I’ll make the tea. I don’t want to disturb you.”
“But this is my job,” said Anne.
“Sit down and don’t move,” said Beth.
“Fine,” said Anne, laughing. “The kettle is in the cupboard over the stove.”
“Thank you,” said Beth. “Anyway, how have you been?”
Anne always found peculiar how Beth made her feel at ease, like they had been friends forever. The two had met before the wedding, when Beth had visited Hermione many times a week to deal with wedding preparations. Hermione had told Beth all about Anne: how her mother lived in France, how she was desperate to become a writer. Beth had been over to check on Anne while Michael and Hermione were on the honeymoon, and they had established a nice friendship.
“I’ve been writing a lot,” Anne replied.
“That’s good!” exclaimed Beth, looking inside her handbag for something.
“What are you looking for?” asked Anne.
“My wand,” replied Beth. “I don’t use it that often, so I don’t keep it handy. It’s a bloody pain to look for it, though. I just want to switch the stove on.”
“Oh, I’ll do it,” said Anne, flicking her wand and making a small flame appear from under the kettle.
“Thanks,” said Beth, sitting down. “How’s your mum?”
“She’s okay,” said Anne. “I went to visit her a couple of weeks ago. She... Well, she is ill, so I worry a lot about her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Beth. After a few seconds of silence, she decided to go ahead and ask what she had been dying to know. “Anne, do you know what’s going on with Hermione?”
“Um, what do you mean?” asked Anne, nervously.
“Come on, Anne,” said Beth, “you’re here every day. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Alright,” sighed Anne. “I don’t know what has been bothering her, but I will be honest with you. The only things that Hermione has been doing lately have been sleeping and reading. Books, not the paper, mind you. She does not even know what has been going on in the world. You see that stack of papers over there? Those have been piling up since she stopped reading the Prophet. I did not want to throw them away in case she wanted to read them later, but I am seriously starting to doubt that. And those are not the only things piling up. There are several unopened letters placed on her nightstand; they’ve been accumulating since before the wedding. See? She will not even open the mail. Every morning, around ten, she comes downstairs and locks herself inside Michael’s study. She says she’s going over some of her old papers so she can send them to the new Transfiguration professor, but I think that she’s really sleeping all day. Most days, if I do not insist, she will not eat. And I am really worried about the baby. It’s like Hermione forgot she is pregnant at all. She has been putting off the visit to her doctor for two weeks. She was supposed to see him as soon as she came back. He has called twice, but she always tells me to say she is not here.”
This was too much information for Beth. Anne was just happy to get this off her chest. She talked so fast, she was out of breath by the time she finished.
“Is this a joke?” asked Beth. “Why hasn’t Michael done anything?”
“Actually, I think Michael has not noticed.”
Beth snorted.
“Anne! Michael’s not that daft! He must have noticed something!” she said.
“They barely see each other anymore, Beth,” said Anne, blushing profusely. She didn’t feel comfortable saying this to Hermione’s sister-in-law, but if she didn’t, no one would do anything about it.
“I guess...” she continued. “I guess that Michael arrives very late most days and-”
“Wait,” said Beth, looking angry, “Michael leaves work every day around six or seven. I know this for a fact because he leaves with my husband, John.”
Anne remained quiet, looking down.
“Oh God!” exclaimed Beth in a horrified voice, suddenly realizing what that meant, her hands now clutching her head. “What else? What’s been really going on over here?”
“Well Michael... He goes to work very early... That is when I see him, when I come in the morning. Last Saturday... Well he...” Anne hesitated. “Merde, je ne sais pas pour quoi je te dis...”
“Tell me, Anne,” urged Beth. “And in English, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, Beth...” said Anne, looking dismayed. “Last Saturday I got here around six in the morning. Around seven, I was cleaning the dining room when I felt the front door open. It was Michael, looking all hung over... He looked so upset when he saw me...”
“Anne... Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?” asked Beth.
“You have no idea... If either of them ever find out I told you I’ll be fired!”
“Oh, Hermione’s not going to fire you!” said Beth. “Although Michael... What the hell has Michael been up to?”
The kettle came to a boil in that moment.
“Let’s take this to the sitting room,” said Beth.
About thirty minutes later, when Beth started to get very concerned about her brother’s marriage, Hermione appeared downstairs, dressed in a breezy yellow summer dress that highlighted her growing bump. Beth realized that even though her sister-in-law’s stomach had grown significantly before the wedding, she looked thinner than the last time she had seen her.
“Hi!” said Beth brightly as soon as Hermione came into the room.
“Hello,” said Hermione distractedly. “So... This is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Anne got up quietly and went out of the room.
“That was the point, Hermione,” said Beth, laughing a bit. “I’m here to surprise you. We haven’t seen each other in a while and I thought that it would cheer you up if I...”
“Why would I need cheering up?” spat Hermione coldly.
“Well...” said Beth, taken aback at Hermione’s defensive tone. “I bet you’ve been bored... And I thought I could take you out to lunch.”
“I’m not bored at all,” said Hermione defensively. “I’ve gone out plenty of times since I came back. And I have been terribly busy trying to sort out my things, which I have all piled up in boxes all over the house. I don’t even know what all those boxes have.”
“I’m just trying to help, Hermione,” said Beth.
“I appreciate it, but I don’t need any help, Beth,” insisted Hermione.
Beth looked affronted.
“Very well,” she said, picking up her purse and standing up. “I won’t bother you anymore. And I just realized I have something very important to do. I’ll see you around, Hermione.”
With that Beth walked out of the sitting room. A few seconds later, Hermione heard the front door slam shut.
Not even Hermione knew what had come over her a few minutes earlier. She felt her nose prickle and her eyes starting to fill with tears. A wave of sadness rushed through her. She got her wish; she wanted to be left alone and now she really was alone. And she wasn’t sure she liked it.
That night Michael Sandford did something unprecedented.
He came home early. With flowers.
“Hello, Anne,” he said as he walked into the kitchen.
Anne, who had been fixing dinner, stood speechless in front of Michael, a bowl in one hand and her wand in the other.
“I didn’t think you would make it in time for dinner,” was all Anne could say.
“Yes, well, that makes two of us,” said Michael, putting down his briefcase and placing the white roses he was holding on top of the table.
“Anne,” he began nervously, “can you tell me what has been really going on around here?”
“Excuse me?” said Anne.
“Hermione, Anne,” said Michael. “How has Hermione been lately?”
“She has been fine,” Anne lied quickly.
“Come on,” said Michael. “I really need to know the truth.”
Anne blushed. She then proceeded to tell Michael exactly what had been going on.
Michael slowly opened the door to the room he was supposed to be sharing with his wife. He saw Hermione sleeping peacefully inside.
As he walked into the room he started feeling nervous.
“Hermione?” he whispered softly, nudging her.
Hermione woke up with a start. When she saw Michael standing next to her, her face tightened.
“What are you doing here?” she snarled, noticing the white roses he was carrying.
“I live here, Hermione,” said Michael patiently.
“The way you’ve been acting lately,” said Hermione, shifting on the bed to turn her back to Michael, “you would never be able to tell.”
“Can’t we have dinner?” asked Michael.
“I’m not hungry,” Hermione replied. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” said Michael. “I want to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” hissed Hermione.
“Oh yes, we do,” said Michael, “and we could start by discussing this... this... What do I call it? This reckless attitude of yours.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Hermione, sitting up in her bed and crossing her arms. “It’s not like I’m harming anyone by keeping my thoughts to myself.”
“Hermione, don’t you see? You are harming yourself! You are harming our child! You think I don’t care, but I do care!”
“That’s a bit hard to believe! It’s not like you’re ever here, Michael! Where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been working, Hermione,” said Michael patiently. “And don’t try to“”
“Until midnight, every night?” said Hermione in a very low voice, her lower lip starting to tremble.
“Hermione,” said Michael slowly. “I don’t know what you have been“”
“I’ve noticed,” said Hermione, tears swimming in her eyes. “I’ve noticed how every night you arrive so late... And everybody has“”
“Hermione, please don’t listen to what anyone says,” pleaded Michael, taking Hermione’s hand and squeezing it. “I swear, nothing’s going on.”
“You have to promise, Michael,” whispered Hermione sadly, as tears streaked down her cheeks. “If you don’t do it for me... At least think of the baby.”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Michael, looking down.
“I’ll tell you what’s really been bothering me,” said Hermione angrily, wiping away the tears. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what you came for?”
Michael remained quiet.
“The truth is, Michael,” Hermione continued, “I’m afraid of you. I don’t know what to do when I’m around you anymore. After what happened in Rome... You go from being perfectly normal to completely mad in about two seconds. I never thought you were like that. A part of me is thinking, ‘what did I get myself into?’”
Michael was surprised to hear Hermione talking so openly about her feelings when she had always been so reserved with him.
“I know...” he said cautiously, “I know that what happened in Rome should have never happened. I lost control and... I’m sorry, Hermione. I swear... I promise it will never happen again.”
Hermione shielded her face with her hands as a sob escaped her lips.
Michael wrapped his arms around Hermione as her body shook with sobs. Ironically, it was in times like these that Hermione felt lucky to have Michael. Because even though he had been one of the factors that lead to Hermione’s current state of mind, he was always there in the end to repent, to comfort her, to make her feel safe, and to whisper words of solace. Hermione hugged him tight, letting go of inhibitions, yet afraid to let go of him. Michael caressed her hair, stroked her back, and made her feel better.
As they pulled away, Michael took Hermione’s face in his hands and wiped away the tears.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly. “Please don’t cry.”
Hermione nodded.
“Can we start over?” asked Michael.
“That’s all I want.”
“Do you know where’s my toothbrush?” asked Michael, as he came out of the bathroom.
“I haven’t seen it since we got back,” said Hermione, who was lying on the bed, looking at the wall in silence.
“Last time I saw it... Never mind,” mumbled Michael. “Can I use yours?”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Nothing a good Scourgifying charm can’t solve,” he said.
“Fine,” she replied.
After brushing his teeth, Michael put on a sweatshirt and his boxers and climbed into bed.
“Are you alright?” he asked Hermione.
“I’m fine,” she said, smiling softly. “Just tired.”
“Hermione,” said Michael seriously, “I talked to Beth. She came to see me this afternoon.”
“Of course she did. How could I expect anything less of your sister? What did she tell you?” asked Hermione, concentrating intently in her hands.
“She told me what you have been up to lately,” he said. “How you sleep all day... How you barely eat. Is it me? Or is there something else?”
This time, Hermione remained quiet.
“You must go out, Hermione,” Michael continued. “You have to get fresh air. Occupy your mind. You’ll go crazy doing nothing here all day. Is there something else? How are things with Harry and Ginny? Did anything happen when you went to see them and the babies?”
It always annoyed Hermione how Michael had this amazing ability to guess what was bothering her. Sometimes she wondered if she was transparent, just like when she visited Rosmerta.
“Everything’s fine,” said Hermione quietly, not quite meeting Michael’s eye.
“But...” said Michael, prompting Hermione to continue.
“They have the triplets to worry about now.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” asked Michael, obviously confused.
“It means...” Hermione hesitated for a moment, trying to think quickly of something to say. “It means that I can’t go to my friends anymore because now they have to worry about things more important than a friend who just has a lot of time in her hands.”
“I wouldn’t be going crazy if you hadn’t made me quit my job,” she added quietly.
“Hermione!” exclaimed Michael. “We both agreed to that. We decided it would be for the best. You’re talking as if I put my wand to your head and told you I would Crucio your bits off if you didn’t quit!”
“Whatever,” she said. “The thing is I don’t know what to do to keep my mind occupied anymore.”
“Why don’t you do something with Beth?” suggested Michael. “You could spend the day over at her house and I could pick you up in the evening.”
“I don’t want to impose,” said Hermione, blushing as she remembered how she had treated Beth that afternoon.
“Come on, Hermione.” Michael laughed. “This is Beth we’re talking about.”
“To be honest, I don’t think she wants to see me,” said Hermione. “You have no idea of how I treated her.”
“Yes, I do,” said Michael. “She told me everything. And she’s not angry at you. She’s... she’s angry with me. And I definitely don’t blame her. I... I don’t like seeing you like this.”
Hermione remained quiet.
“What else is on your mind?”
“That’s all,” she lied, hoping Michael would drop the subject before she lost control again and spilled the truth about what was tormenting her.
Michael smiled as Hermione placed her hands on her growing stomach, stroking it gently.
“Hermione,” said Michael, placing his hand over hers, “I love you. I hate the fact that I’ve made you so unhappy””
“Really, Michael””
“Listen to me,” said Michael, not allowing Hermione to interrupt him. “I know everything is my fault, and I am so sorry.”
“I know you’re sorry,” said Hermione.
There was an awkward silence, until Michael spoke again.
“Enough about this,” he said. “I want to know how you have been feeling. Physically, I mean, of course.”
“I’ve been alright,” said Hermione slowly.
“Everything in order? What does the doctor say?”
“Um, he said that everything’s going splendid.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Michael nonchalantly.
“A bit before the wedding...” mumbled Hermione.
“What? I thought Beth was making it up to preoccupy me!” exclaimed Michael, as he sat up looking at Hermione in outrage. “What on earth have you been waiting for?”
“Michael, I tried to set up an appointment,” Hermione quickly lied, “but his schedule was full.”
“Bollocks!”
“Michael!”
“Tomorrow I’m telling Rebecca to set up an emergency appointment. Believe me, she’ll get it like that,” said Michael, snapping his fingers.
“Good morning,” said Hermione, smiling as she entered the kitchen.
“Well, you’re up early!” exclaimed Anne.
“Yes, well, I thought I would take advantage of this beautiful day,” said Hermione, pouring pumpkin juice into a glass.
“Good,” said Anne slowly, getting up to pour herself more coffee. Just then, Michael entered the kitchen and surprised Hermione from behind as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a peck on the cheek.
Great, so he comes home with flowers and a few days later they’re sleeping together again, Anne thought indignantly, taking a sip of her coffee as she looked away.
“I’ll come home early tonight,” said Michael, almost whispering.
“Great,” said Hermione. “I need to talk to you before you go.”
“Sure,” said Michael, showing a mischievous smile. “Want to jump in the shower with me?”
Anne pretended she didn’t hear anything as she walked out the door.
“You’ll be late,” said Hermione, laughing. She looked out the window and saw Anne beginning to take care of the garden. “Actually, I wanted to talk about Anne.”
“What about her?” asked Michael, as he sat down at the table and opened the Prophet.
“I really want her to get a good job.”
“Are you serious?” asked Michael.
“Michael, she wants to be a writer. Do you really think she should be cleaning our house? She has her whole life ahead of her! She can do so much better than this!”
Michael thought about this for a moment.
“I think you’re right,” he finally said. “But what do you have in mind?”
“Oh, it’s brilliant,” said Hermione, smiling.
“Oh, Ginny...”
“Stop it, Harry.”
“What do you want me to say?” Harry snapped, looking away from the thermometer levitating in front of him. “I’m so proud of you for not taking care of yourself?”
“I’m alright,” said Ginny stubbornly.
“You have a fever!”
“Don’t yell at me!”
“I’m not yelling!” yelled Harry.
Ginny laughed. Harry looked at her and started laughing as well.
“Oh gosh... It hurts to laugh,” said Ginny, suddenly flinching.
“Are you alright?” asked Harry concernedly.
“I’m fine,” said Ginny.
“I had to call in sick today,” said Harry. “Again.”
Ginny’s face turned red.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Ginny, I wouldn’t have to do this if your mum were helping you,” said Harry.
“I know,” said Ginny, “but Harry... You know how she can get. I would go mad.”
“You’re already going mad,” said Harry. “One month old triplets are too much for you to deal with alone. Molly would be more than thrilled to help out.”
Ginny remained silent.
“Do you want me to call Mum?” she asked reluctantly.
“You don’t“” Harry started to say, when they heard someone was knocking on the front door.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
However, he wasn’t right back. After ten minutes, Ginny started to wonder who was downstairs with Harry, and just as she was about to get up from the bed, the door opened.
“It was bloody time!” she said. But she was shocked to find that the person standing at the door wasn’t Harry. It was Claudia.
“Hello,” said Claudia shyly.
“Well... Hi,” stammered Ginny.
“I’m so sorry to disturb,” said Claudia, still standing awkwardly by the door. “Harry said I could come up. He went to change Becky’s nappy, I think.”
“Sure,” said Ginny. “What are you doing here?”
“Ron told me you were sick,” said Claudia, blushing, “and I... I was having lunch at The Leaky Cauldron and I thought that maybe you could use a bit of pea soup.”
“That’s nice of you,” said Ginny.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t call earlier,” said Claudia, looking uncomfortable. “Gosh, I just barged in here, didn’t I?”
“Oh, please,” laughed Ginny softly. “Don’t worry about it. How are things at the Ministry? Is the Auror Department everything you hoped for?”
“Oh,” said Claudia, “everything’s alright. We’ve been dealing mostly with paperwork, because apparently the head of the department doesn’t trust us rookies quite yet. Ron’s been dying to go on a raid, though. He’s been trying to get me to fill in his paperwork, but I’ve got enough as it is!”
“He’s always been like that,” said Ginny, laughing. “Back at Hogwarts he was always pestering Hermione to help him with his homework.”
“What did she do?” asked Claudia.
“Always helped,” said Ginny, her voice almost inaudible.
“You know,” said Claudia, “Ronnie and I went shopping to Diagon Alley the other day, and we saw her. I wanted to say ‘hello’ but she seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, and we couldn’t catch up with her.”
“She was probably late for an appointment,” said Ginny quietly.
Harry tried to put Becky asleep as fast as he could. He really didn’t think that leaving Ginny alone with Claudia for a long time would yield good results. But to his utter surprise, Claudia and Ginny were talking animatedly when he came into the room. He actually felt awkward, standing in silence as the two girls chatted away.
“Oh dear,” said Claudia, looking at her watch. “I should get going. It was really nice talking to you, Ginny. We should do this again.”
“Thank you so much for coming,” said Ginny.
“Thank you for letting me in,” replied Claudia, laughing.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” offered Harry.
After Claudia left, Harry practically ran up the stairs.
“Ginny, are you feeling okay?” he asked as soon as he walked into the bedroom.
“Yes,” she asked, somewhat alarmed as she looked at the panting Harry in front of her. “Are you?”
“Do you realize that you spent forty five minutes talking to someone you hated an hour ago?” said Harry.
“I’ve never hated her!” exclaimed Ginny defensively.
“Ginny, two weeks ago you wanted me to kick her out of the house.”
“I was so wrong about her, Harry,” said Ginny. “She’s such a nice girl.”
“I know,” said Harry. “I hesitated a bit before sending her up, but I didn’t have a choice because I had to take care of Becky.”
“I’m happy she came. She’s so... down to earth, you know?” said Ginny.
Harry laid down in bed next to Ginny. They were both silent for a few minutes until Ginny talked again.
“I really like her, Harry,” she said gently, biting her lip.
“I really like her, too,” said Harry dolefully. “I really like her, too.”
Hermione was sitting on the veranda, enjoying the light breeze as she read and responded the letters that had been piling up for weeks. She had received letters from students, past classmates, professors... Molly and Ginny had written quite a few letters as well. All of them asking how she was, how was she feeling, did she know the sex of the baby yet, or how was Michael preparing for fatherhood, a question that had made Hermione snort.
She had thought things would be so different once they got married. They hadn’t. The situation had only gotten worse. She felt sad almost all of the time, and now she spent a lot of time thinking about the past: what would’ve happened if her parents hadn’t died, if she had never met Michael, or if she had never...
However, that didn’t matter anymore. She couldn’t turn back time.
Talking with Michael opened her eyes. Putting behind them what had happened in Rome and deciding to start fresh definitely helped her be a bit more optimistic about the future. She wouldn’t think about Ron and Claudia and that awful Sunday in Harry’s house anymore. That had just been sucking the life out of her like a Dementor constantly hanging over her. From now on she would think about herself, Michael and the baby. Instead of dwelling in the past and forgetting to live her life, she decided to prepare, prepare, prepare. The baby would be arriving in just four months, and to think that she hadn’t even thought about names yet... It made Hermione cringe.
“Hermione,” said Anne, walking into the veranda, “do you need anything?”
“No,” said Hermione softly, “I’m just thinking.”
“I see you’re getting up to date on your mail,” said Anne.
“Yes,” said Hermione. “I’ll be getting up to date in a lot of things from now on.”
“I hope you’re feeling better,” said Anne.
“I am,” said Hermione. “Apparently, someone let it slip that I was getting up to no good.”
Anne’s face turned beet red.
“I am so sorry,” she apologized.
“Don’t be,” said Hermione. “On the contrary, thank you for doing something about it.”
Anne smiled shyly.
“What should I do with the Prophets that have been piling up?” she asked.
“Just throw them out,” said Hermione. “I’m not reading that rubbish anymore.”
Anne nodded.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Um, I just have to write a letter and I’ll be right in,” said Hermione.
Anne went back inside.
Hermione wrote the letter, grabbed her purse, and headed for the High Street, hoping the post office was still open.
“Why, hello Hermione!” exclaimed Madam Rosmerta as Hermione passed by the Three Broomsticks.
“Hello” said Hermione.
“We haven’t seen you in a while!” said Rosmerta, peering intently at Hermione. “You look... You look lovely, dear.”
“Thank you,” said Hermione, smiling softly. Instinctively, her right hand moved to her stomach. Rosmerta stared at her with a curious expression on her face.
“I better get going,” said Hermione. “It was nice seeing you.”
After sending the letter with an Express Owl, Hermione headed back home.
“Where have you been?” asked Anne, as soon as Hermione came through the door.
“I went to send my letter,” said Hermione. “Why?”
“You said that you would come in as soon as you finished writing the letter!” exclaimed Anne. “You never said you were going to send it today! I was worried!”
“I’m sorry!” said Hermione. “I didn’t think you would notice.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” said Anne, walking back to the kitchen. Hermione followed her.
“I guess I got worried because you haven’t gone out of the house in a bit more than two weeks and suddenly you were not here anymore...”
“I know,” said Hermione, sitting down at the table. “So... What are you doing?”
“I have been working a bit on my story,” said Anne. “I finished what needed to be done today, but it’s not quite time to start working on dinner.”
“You know, you can go whenever you want,” said Hermione.
“But I have to cook dinner.”
“I’ll take care of dinner,” said Hermione. “I just want to have quiet evening with Michael.”
“Are you sure you can handle dinner all by yourself?” asked Anne.
“I’m positive,” said Hermione.
“Well, I guess I should leave,” said Anne getting up and gathering her things. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” replied Hermione.
Hermione started taking the ingredients for the meal out. In a matter of minutes, the whole kitchen was bustling with enchanted knives chopping vegetables all over the place.
“Hey,” said Michael, coming into the kitchen. His hands were full: he was carrying his briefcase with one hand and a red shopping bag with the other. “What are you working on here?”
“Hi,” said Hermione, giving Michael a kiss. “I’m cooking dinner.”
“What are you making?” asked Michael. “Smells good.”
“Ratatouille,” said Hermione.
“You know, one day we’ll go to Provence and you will get to taste the most wonderful Ratatouille in the world,” said Michael.
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” said Hermione smiling. “What’s in the bag?”
“Oh, just wait,” said Michael taking out a box out of the bag. He opened the box and took out a small device that resembled a mobile phone.
“Isn’t it brilliant?” said Michael, grinning.
“Okay, this may sound stupid, but what exactly is it?” asked Hermione, realizing how poor her knowledge in Muggle technology was now that her parents were gone. The last time she had used a computer had been three years ago, at her parents’ office.
“This is a Blackberry! It’s a mobile phone, but it also has Internet and you can use it to send e-mail and everything!” explained Michael excitedly. “Liam got one last week and he reckons it’s addictive.”
“It’s nice,” said Hermione tentatively.
“And I got you one too,” said Michael. “That way you can call me whenever you need me. If you have a problem or if you’re not feeling alright.”
“You know, Michael,” said Hermione, eyeing the device with some apprehension, “sometimes I think you rely too much on Muggle things.”
“Well, I just happen to think Muggles are brilliant.”
“Yes well, so does Arthur Weasley,” said Hermione laughing. “So I guess it can’t be that bad.”
---
The evening had been relaxing; dinner had been served, and now Hermione and Michael were sitting in front of the fireplace; Michael was reading the Evening Prophet and Hermione was reading a bit from Hogwarts: A History.
“You know,” said Michael, lowering his paper, “that is a frighteningly big book.”
“It’s very interesting,” said Hermione.
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” assumed Michael, lifting the paper again. “By the way, remember that the doctor’s appointment is tomorrow afternoon at two.”
Hermione nodded. She lifted her head and stared at Michael for a while. When she looked at her husband, she felt sad. She felt... disappointed. Michael wasn’t a bad person. She should be the happiest woman in the world: a baby on the way, a husband that has realized his mistakes and had vowed to mend them, loving friends... Plus, she had everything she needed. Everything she wanted. Shoes, coats, purses, dresses... Yet those things could not make up for the emptiness inside her.
Hermione loved Michael. She honestly did. And yet she always feared that she didn’t love him the way she had to. That she didn’t love him enough. She wasn’t in love with him. Love like the one Hermione desperately wanted to feel for her husband”yet couldn’t possibly imagine feeling for him”only appeared once in a lifetime. And Ron Weasley had already stolen her heart. Now it was too late.
A few minutes of silence went by as Hermione considered these thoughts, until Michael exclaimed “Yes!” making her jump.
“For Merlin’s sake!” she said, eyes wide. “Don’t do that!”
“I’m sorry!” said Michael, lowering his paper to reveal he was grinning. “It’s just that the Puddlemere United won today’s game. They massacred the Chudley Cannons, 250-0... Well, it was to be expected, now that I think about it. Those Cannons are absolute rubbish.”
Hermione swallowed awkwardly, tensing up.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” asked Michael. “You’re clenching your fists, you know.”
“I should probably go to bed,” said Hermione, getting up. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
“But I wanted to have some fun!” said Michael.
“I’m sorry, but I’m tired and I’m not in the mood,” said Hermione, thinking that she was going to wear out that phrase soon.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Sandford,” said the young woman sitting at the desk in front of Michael’s office.
Hermione was in the Sandford Corporation Building, ready for her doctor’s appointment with Michael. He told her they would meet up here and then drive across town to Kensington.
“Hello,” she said, trying not to cringe at the words “Mrs. Sandford.”
“I’ll tell Mr. Sandford you’ve arrived.”
“Isn’t he in his office?” asked Hermione.
“He’s downstairs, in a meeting with his father.”
Just then, a tall, attractive blonde with long legs that resembled toothpicks, came out of Liam’s office, laughing.
Patricia Walters.
Liam, who came out of his office right after Patricia, quickly noticed Hermione and went to greet her.
“How are you?” he asked, giving Hermione a hug.
“Terrific,” Hermione said curtly, looking at Patricia, who had just materialized next to Liam.
“Hello,” said Patricia.
“Oh, Hermione,” said Liam, “you know Patricia, right? She’s our new head of Legal and Management Controls.”
Hermione didn’t know what to say.
“That’s... Good for you.”
“Oh, it most definitely is!” said Patricia, smiling pleasantly. “I’m here to stay. Oh, before I forget, I hear congratulations are in order!”
“Thank you,” said Hermione quietly, feeling patronized. Why did this woman have to be so condescending?
“Hello, darling,” said Michael, walking towards Hermione and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Ready to go?”
“Yes,” said Hermione quickly.
“Where are you going?” asked Patricia.
Just when Hermione was about to lash out with a biting remark, Michael spoke.
“Doctor’s appointment,” he said, patting Hermione’s stomach.
“That’s adooorable,” said Patricia, giving Hermione a “Better-You-Than-Me” look.
“Hey, Michael,” said John, who was walking out of the lifts, “is the smashing Aston Martin that’s parked in front of the building yours?”
“Actually,” said Liam, grinning, as he walked back towards his office, “it’s mine. And there is no way I’m letting you drive it!”
“I have to make a quick phone call,” Michael told Hermione as he read a message on his Blackberry. “I’ll be right back.”
“It was nice seeing you, Hermione,” Liam said, his voice so high he was almost shouting.
“You too,” replied Hermione.
Patricia simply walked away.
“Rebecca, get me Meg,” she demanded, talking to Michael’s secretary.
“Right away,” said Rebecca, looking at Patricia with antipathy.
“Rebecca?” asked Hermione, suddenly realizing something. “We’ve talked before, haven’t we?”
“Just once, over the phone... Hang on. Yes, Hello, I’m calling for Megan Wic- Yes, I’ll hold,” said Rebecca, shifting her attention from Hermione to the person on the phone. “Thank you. Ms. Walters, I have her on line two.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she told Hermione.
“Oh, don’t be,” said Hermione. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” said Rebecca.
“Rebecca, if you don’t mind me asking...” Hermione hesitated slightly. “Isn’t this supposed to be Susan’s desk?”
Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Well, Mrs. Sandford, Susan doesn’t work here anymore. She quit. Now I’m secretary for Mr. Parke, Ms. Walters, and Mr. Sandford.”
“When did this happen?” asked Hermione, perplexed. “Michael never said anything.”
Rebecca lowered her gaze.
“It... Well, it happened a couple of months ago, while you were on your honeymoon. Right about the time Ms. Walters started working here, actually. They... Well, she and Susan didn’t have the greatest of relationships.”
“So Susan quit her job so she would never have to look at Patricia again?” asked Hermione.
“I really don’t know,” said Rebecca. “But... Well, everyone talks.”
“And what are they saying?”
“Well, we all know what Susan’s like,” said Rebecca, leaning towards Hermione conspiratorially. “She’s proud and selfish... sometimes downright shameless. It’s not likely that she decided to throw in the towel without putting on a fight. When Patricia arrived, it was obvious that those two were like oil and water. And then suddenly, Susan handed in her resignation and left. We all found that a bit suspicious. Everyone’s saying that Patricia made Susan quit, and yet no one knows how.”
“Okay, I’m all set,” said Michael, walking out of his office.
“Thanks, Rebecca,” said Hermione, warily.
“Anytime,” replied the secretary, looking as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“Ready?” asked Michael.
“Yes,” said Hermione. “I’m ready.”