In one of the bedrooms of Shell Cottage, mid-March, 1998, the morning after the escape from Malfoy Manor.

"'ow are you feeling zees morning?" asked Fleur gently, adjusting the pillows and helping Hermione sit up in the bed.

"Much better, thank you," Hermione responded softly, taking the cup of steaming tea that the frenchwoman held out to her. She grimaced as she sipped it. Not even a good Earl Grey tea could hide the nasty flavor of the healing potions dissolved within. She knew they were helping, so she gritted her teeth and took another long sip.

"You should not haff gone down for zee burial of zee elf. Eet was too much for you so soon."

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "I had to. He saved me. Dobby saved us all. All except for himself." Fleur didn't say anything, just shook her head and fussed around the room for a few minutes while Hermione continued to sip at the foul tea.

"'Ermione," Fleur said hesitantly as she sat on the edge of the bed, putting her hand on the younger woman's knee. "I was able to heal zee broken bones, close zee knife wounds, and take away zum of zee residual pain from zee Cruciatis…" Hermione closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the still too vivid memories of her torture at the hand, blade, and wand of Bellatrix LaStrange from overwhelming her. "But," continued Fleur, "I was not able to zave zee baby."

Hermione bit her lower lip, tears welling in her closed eyes. Fleur took the cup from her hands before it dropped. Setting it on the nightstand, she leaned in and held the bushy-haired teen to her chest. Hermione hugged her for a moment, her face scrunched up and turning beet red. Then the dams burst and she began sobbing and weeping uncontrollably. "Zere, zere," Fleur cooed, holding her close and patting her back comfortingly. "Let eet all out. Eet is good to grieve."

Many minutes later, Hermione sat back against the pillows, wiping her face with the sleeve of her pajamas. "I'm sorry, Fleur," she croaked, sniffing loudly. Fleur handed her several tissues. "And sorry about your blouse," she said with a sobbing chuckle.

"Eet eez OK," she said reassuringly, looking down at her tear soaked top. "Tears wash out." She paused for a moment while Hermione blew her nose loudly. "I know eet does not seem good to hear eet right now, but een time you will understand. You will get over zees. Miscarriages are common for a first pregnancy, even een normal circumstances. And you have not been een zee normal circumstances."

"You're right," Hermione mumbled sullenly. "It doesn't help."

Fleur smiled sadly. "I know, but eet ees ze truth. I know because I had zee miscarriage only three months after Beel and I wed."

Hermione's eyes widened in shame. "Oh Fleur, I'm so sorry."

"Eet eez OK. And we are pregnant again!" she said proudly, putting a hand on her slightly swolen stomach. "Zee first trimester passed just last week." Hermione smiled more warmly, wiping another tear from her cheek. "And Molly sayz she had three miscarriages before her first, Beel, was born. So, yes, grieve as much as you need to 'Ermione, but know that you can and weel have more babies."

Hermione opened her arms and the two women hugged again, this time both of them crying openly.

"'Ermione," Fleur said some time later, after they had dried their second round of tears and were sitting quietly again, just holding hands and looking out the window at the grey sea washing onto the stony beach in its endless susseration. "You need to tell ze father. I 'ave told no one what happened, but 'ee deserves to know."

"He didn't even know I was pregnant. I hadn't told him yet. I was barely showing and it was easy to hide in my baggy clothes."

"Even more reason to tell him, I zeenk. By zee way…eet was a boy." The beautiful french woman stood and gathered up the soiled tissues and remains of the tea. "Weech one should I be zending een zen?"

Hermione nodded and sighed deeply. She opened her mouth to answer when the door flew open and a tall, lanky redhead burst in.

"Hermione! You're awake! Are you better now?" Ron ran over and sat on the bed, taking her hand. "I … We were so worried!"

"Hi Ron," she said softly, not looking him in the eye. "Fleur," she said, turning to the woman who was now trying to leave the room quietly. "Can you make sure Harry doesn't go away. I need to talk to him, too. After." She could see Harry standing in the shadows just outside the doorway, peering in timidly.

Fleur looked from Hermione to Ron to Harry and nodded, not revealing what she suspected. She closed the door behind her and Hermione could hear her say something softly to Harry in the hallway.

"Hermione," began Ron loudly, full of nervous energy. "I was going out of my mind thinking about what happened. Are you going to be OK?"

"Yes," she said with a firm nod of the head. "I am going to be OK."

"Brilliant!" Ron said with a sigh of relief. "Hermione, I need to tell you. I think I…"

"No Ron," she interrupted him. "There's something I need to tell you first."

"Um…sure," he said, knitting his brow. "What?"

"Ron," she said swallowing hard and leaping in. "B…Bellatrix's torture caused me to lose the baby I was carrying."

"Oh Hermione, I'm so sorr….wait a minute! Baby? What baby?" His voice got louder in his confusion. "But we never…I mean… you know."

"Ron," she said softly, "I was twelve weeks pregnant." He sat there staring at her in disbelief. Slowly, agonizingly, he did the math in his head. Twelve weeks was just around Christmas, before he had rejoined her and Harry. That meant…

"I'll effing kill him!" he exploded, jumping up and heading for the door, his hands balled into fists.

"Ron! Stop!" she commanded sternly. He stopped, but didn't turn back. Instead he punched a hole in the plastered wall next to the door. Hermione, grimaced, but kept her tone calm, her voice quiet. "He didn't know, doesn't know…yet."

"I'm still going to kill him," he said through gritted teeth. "How could he take advantage of you like that? You were vulnerable because of me leaving. He shouldn't have used you."

"Ron, it wasn't that way. If anything, I'm the one who took advantage of him. I'm the one who …um…you know… initiated it. At least the first few times," she added more softly.

"The first few…" Ron turned around to look at her. She gasped, seeing the look of pain, anger, and betrayal on his face. "Do you love him?" he managed to spit out.

"Yes," she nodded quietly.

"What about me?"

"Oh Ron, I love you, too. But…"

"But you chose him?"

She nodded again. "Yes, Ron. I chose him. I choose him. I love him. I always have. I always will. You must know that. You must have always known that."

"I… I do now," he grunted turning and throwing open the door.

"Ron!" she called after him breaking into tears again.

"Get the fuck out of my way, you bastard!" she heard Ron shout, followed by his thundering footsteps down the stairs and the slamming of the front door.

Harry came in quietly a few seconds later to find her still staring at the door, with tears running down her cheeks. He quietly shut the door and came over to sit on the bed next to her. "Are you OK?" he finally said after a moment.

She nodded and took his hand. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, Hermione," he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "I take it you told him…about…us…" She nodded, swallowing her tears. "And I take it it didn't go that well…," he added, looking at the fist-sized hole in the wall.

"Better than I thought it would, actually," she croaked, still crying, but trying to laugh.

"He'll come 'round," Harry said softly, pulling her into a hug. "He's still our best friend. He always comes back, always comes around after he calms down."

"I hope so," she said softly into his neck, hugging him tightly. "Harry," she said softly several quiet minutes later.

"Hmmm?" he murmured into her bushy hair, enjoying the scent of it, and the fact that she was going to be alright.

"I lost the baby," she said clearly.

Harry sat back and looked at her with wide eyes. "Baby?"

She nodded and began speaking fast, almost without breathing. "I wasn't really certain I was pregnant. I mean, I missed my period, but we were under such stress, half starved, running for our lives. It's normal for a woman to miss a period in times of stress. I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure. Then I missed my second month in a row. I guess I really was…you know… pregnant. Before I could tell you we ran into those Snatchers, then things got really crazy. But Bellatrix ended it. Greyback could smell that I was pregnant and Bellatrix was just … delighted." Hermione shivered at the memory of the insane witch's sadistic laugh. "I made her believe it was Ron's so she wouldn't use it against you. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!"

"Oh Hermione!" he cried, pulling her into a tight hug. "Are you OK? I'm so sorry. Are you hurt? I mean, can you still…, I mean… will you be… Oh hell," he croaked.

"Yes, Harry," she said holding him, loving him even more for worrying about her condition first. It was amazing how easily she could talk to him about anything, even this. It had always been that way. They always talked about things. She was relieved he wasn't angry with her for not telling him right away. "I'll be OK. And Fleur says I can have more children… in time."

"How did it happen?" Harry asked, suddenly blushing. "I mean, I know how it happens, but we were careful weren't we?"

"Yes, I thought we did the contraception charm everytime. That's part of why I didn't believe I was really pregnant at first. We were careful." She sighed, biting her lower lip at the puzzle. "I think maybe it was Christmas, after, you know, Godric's Hollow. We were so scared. After the snake attacked you and Vo…You Know Who almost caught us. I was just so happy you were still alive. I think maybe we forgot to do the spell in all the um…excitement. The timing is right for it to have happened then."

Harry nodded, believing she was probably right. He didn't remember much of that day after, except for taking comfort once again in her always welcoming arms. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, Harry." They hugged for several minutes longer, then kissed tenderly. "Harry," she said after awhile, fresh tears springing from her eyes. "Fleur said it was a boy."

"A son," he croaked, his own face streaked with tears.

She nodded. "I want to call him Harry."

"Harry…my son Harry Junior…" He looked out the window lost in thought. Looking back at her he nodded. "Can we bury him? I mean…is there anything to…"

"Yes, my love. Fleur saved what she could for us. She knew we'd want to have a funeral."

"Let's put him next to Dobby." She nodded and the two of them lay down on the bed, holding each other and crying. Hermione didn't remember ever crying so much in her life, yet somehow it felt good to let it all out, and to share those tears with Harry.

That afternoon found Harry outside in the garden, again digging a hole by hand. Suddenly another spade started scooping the sandy soil next to his. He looked up at Ron who returned his silent question with a grim nod. The two best friends turned back to digging. It didn't take long, for the hole didn't need to be large.

"If you hurt her," Ron said suddenly, in a gruff voice, "I will kill you."

Harry looked into his best friend's eyes with intense seriousness. "Ron, if I ever hurt her I'll want you to kill me." Ron stared at him, then nodded with a grunt of agreement.

They looked up to see Hermione in a dressing gown walking towards them, flanked by Bill and Fleur, who were helping her along. Luna and Dean were trailing behind, the former looking sad and the latter in confused shock. In Hermione's hands was a small wooden box. Looking at Harry, she nodded and he took the box, carefully setting it in the bottom of the freshly dug grave. Silently, Harry and Ron began shoveling the dirt back into the hole. When it was full they stood back.

Hermione looked at Fleur, who waved her wand at the flat stone at the head of the small pile of dirt. Harry James Granger-Potter, Jr. it said on one line. Under that was a single date: March 16, 1998. Harry held Hermione, tears running down both of their faces. Once again he knew he should say something, but he couldn't find the strength. And once again, it was Luna who stepped forward.

"Harry Junior," she said, her voice soft and full of wonder. "We didn't know you, but we know your parents. Even though you never got to meet them, you should know that you were loved more than you could ever imagine and will never be forgotten." She waved her wand and more words appeared at the bottom of the makeshift gravestone. Love lasts forever.

Hermione reached out to place her hand on Luna's shoulder. She smiled through her tears and croaked a nearly silent thank you. Luna smiled back dreamily and patted her hand, then reached out and squeezed Harry's hand. Harry nodded and looked around, realizing that everyone was else was crying, too. Bill, Fleur, and even Ron. The younger Weasley bit his lower lip and wiped a tear from the end of his long nose. Pulling out his own wand, he waved it over the grave and a dozen daisies floated down to lay on the fresh soil. Harry smiled and squeezed Hermione. It wasn't as elegent as the wreath of Christmas roses she had conjured for Harry's parents' grave that fateful night in Godric's Hollow, but the sentiment meant so much to the both of them.

Ron turned and stood in front of the two of them, his face redder than usual, and tears running down his cheeks. He blew his nose on the back of his sleeve, then said, "Oh bloody hell!" He spread his arms and engulfed Harry and Hermione in a huge hug, balling his eyes out. Shocked, but both relieved and touched, they hugged him back. A trio once more.

An almost awkwardly long time later, Ron let them go and stepped back. "Right," he said with purpose, looking back and forth between them. "What do we do next?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded slightly. "It's time we stopped running," Harry said firmly.

"And start chasing," Hermione finished for him.