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Beautiful when she smiles. by Janner
Chapter 7 : Chapter 6
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1

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During the next three weeks Hermione gradually adjusted to her new life. She spoke to Robbie once a week; they were supposed to keep the calls to a reasonable length. Dusty Miller had no family ties and happily donated half of his time to Robbie, provided that he was allowed to speak briefly to her during every call. The other half he kept for what he called his ‘little black book’. Hermione was rapidly picking up military style slang. She would greet Dusty with ‘How are you, you old scroat.’ which always resulted in a chuckle. She had learned that, what to others might sound like an insult; was in fact a term of affection. She had been upset after the last call because Robbie had said that he would be unavailable for the next ten days, but was unable to tell her why. That was four days ago. Six more days to wait.

It was three weeks to the day after he left and the day was the same as the previous twenty-one. Hermione came out of the bathroom to her bedroom, sat in front of her mirror and brushed her hair. That done, she picked up a red pen and on her calendar put a big red cross though today. Something caught her eye; she put a finger on today and ran it back five days. That date had a red cross in it, but between the upper arms of the cross was a small red dot. She had forgotten all about that. She thought for a moment as her mother called from downstairs, “I’m going into town, do you want anything?” She jumped to her feet,

“Give me a minute Mummy, I’ll come with you.” Twenty minutes later they were walking around the shops. Jean Granger always knew where she was heading, but as they passed a young persons fashion shop Hermione said,

“I want to go in here for a look round Mum. I’ll see you in the coffee shop in five minutes.” Jean waved and walked on. When she was gone Hermione, did some shopping of her own.

That afternoon Hermione walked into the kitchen looking puzzled. “Mummy, can you tell me what this means please?” She gave Jean a white plastic gadget with a small window in it. In the window was a blue line. Jean stared for a couple of seconds before realisation hit. Looking at her daughter who was now beaming a huge grin at her.

“Hermione, you’re…”

“Yes Mum, I’m pregnant.” screams and whoops of joy brought Frank running from the garden,

“What the devil...” He began.

“Daddy, how would you feel about being a granddad?” He was stunned, then overjoyed. Hermione however was frustrated “I’ve got to wait six days to tell Robbie. I wonder if I can get a message to him.” Frank put a hand on her shoulder,

“Listen Hermione, if he is unavailable for ten days, then he is doing something that needs all his concentration and attention. He won’t need a distraction like this. Wait kitten, wait just six days.” Hermione knew he was right.

“OK but I’m not telling anyone else, not even Brian and Carol, until I’ve told Robbie he’s going to be a father,” She paused, “Mummy, I’m supposed to be happy, and I am, but why am I scared as well?”

“Because it’s all new darling; believe me after a couple of hours, when you have thought about nothing else, you are going to be, not just happy but deliriously happy.” and she was. She sat in her bedroom staring at the picture of her and her husband of fifteen minutes that Brian had taken, and the photo that Robbie had given her. She picked this one up and kissed the glass. She imagined that he could hear her and said.

“Robbie my love, I’m going to have a baby. You’re going to be a father.” She stared at it for a long time, then replaced the picture next to her bed. She had a sudden urge to write to Harry and the Weasley’s. ‘No don’t! A clean cut remember, you’ll always be able to find a reason to write to them but you must not. A clean break!’

Two days passed. Hermione could not sit down without placing on hand on her abdomen. Her baby was all she had thought about. This morning she was in her bedroom holding the picture and talking to Robbie when, without warning, Robbie’s voice sounded in her head, as clear as a bell. ‘Kiss Hermione’ was all it said. she glanced at her clock. Eleven twenty nine. She could hear it still. ‘Kiss Hermione.’ “My darling I wish you could, I really do.”


The next day Hermione was relaxing in the garden. The sun was out, only a few small fluffy clouds dotted the blue sky. There was a knock at the front door which her mother opened. On the step stood a man in an officers’ uniform, slightly behind was a female officer carrying a briefcase. “Would it be possible to see Mrs. Hermione MacDonald, please?”

“Yes, of course, come in.” She showed them to the living room where Frank was sitting,

“They’re here to see Hermione, she’s in the garden, I’ll go and get her.” The man turned to Frank,

“Are you and the lady her parents sir?” he asked,

“Yes.” said Frank with a horrible premonition creeping over him. It was confirmed when the man said,

“That’s good. I’m sorry to say, sir, that she is going to need you very badly.” Frank tried to speak, but nothing came out. Hermione came in bright, cheerful and smiling. She was beautiful when she smiled.

“Hello, I’m Hermione.” Frank put a hand on her shoulder,

“Sit down kitten, sit down.” The tone of her father’s voice puzzled her. She looked at the female officer who was swallowing hard. The man began to speak very softly,

“Hermione,” he said, claiming her attention, “Hermione, I’m afraid I have to give you some very bad news.”

“What, what is it?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you that your husband, Robert, was killed on active service yesterday.” It was as if Hermione had suddenly gone deaf, she could see his lips moving but could not take in the words. “We don’t have all the details yet so I really can’t tell you a lot more than that at this time. I’m glad your parents are here, but is there anyone else we can call for you. A minister perhaps.

“No it can’t be… we’re having a baby, I’ve got to tell him we’re having a baby… it can’t be.”

“I’m so sorry Hermione.” said the officer. Jean put her arms around her daughter,

“Come on Hermione, let’s go upstairs.” Hermione still wasn’t crying, she just kept repeating,

“No, it can’t be, I’m going to speak to him soon, I’ve got to tell him about the baby.” Jean helped her upstairs. The officer said to Frank

“Can I take a few minutes of your time sir?” A loud, horrible sound came from upstairs, Hermione was crying at last. Frank was distracted, he didn’t know that the small word ‘No’ when drawn out in anguish and repeated, could sound so horribly awful.

“Sorry, yes what is it?”

“I’ll just let you know what happens next, if that’s okay, and then we’ll be off. We will leave you alone for the rest of the day. Someone will visit tomorrow to start the official stuff. It’s not too bad, and it has to be done. See how Hermione is tomorrow morning and if you don’t think she’s up to it call the number on this card and we’ll re-arrange the visit for your convenience.”

“What about Robbie’s parents?”

“Someone is with them now. Your sole concern is with your daughter, Mr. Granger, don’t think about anyone or anything else.”

“How did it happen? She’ll want to know, what do I tell her?” The female officer spoke,

“I’m afraid we can’t help you there, sir, we do not have those details yet. They will probably know more tomorrow.” she glanced at her colleague. “We’ll be going; you have more than enough to cope with now. I’m so sorry.” The man offered his hand to Frank and as they shook said,

“Please give Hermione my sincere personal condolences, Mr Granger. This is a rotten job that I have to do. There is no upside whatsoever. Go and take care of your wife and daughter, Mr. Granger. We’ll see ourselves out. Goodbye sir.” Frank stood in silence as the officers departed. He didn’t remember walking up the stairs. He went into his daughter’s bedroom. Hermione was lying on her bed with her head in her sobbing mother’s lap. The piteous sound coming from his girl broke his heart. He held out his arms. Tears flowing, Hermione flung herself at him, his arms circled her once more,

“Daddy… Daddy, tell… me it’s not true… please…” Frank replied through his own tears, he was supposed to be the fixer, he was supposed to make things right. He couldn’t fix this.

“I’m so sorry kitten, I can’t do that. I can’t make this better. Oh kitten I am so, so sorry.”

“Daddy… he never… knew. I never told… him about our… baby. He… never knew, he never… knew. It’s not fair. It’s not… fair Daddy he… never knew.” He held her face and looked into her eyes.

“No kitten, it isn’t fair. Not at all. But do you know something kitten, I have a feeling that now… well I think maybe he does know. Let’s believe that shall we.”

“Oh Daddy, I loved him, I loved him so much. What am I going to do?”

“And you still do kitten, so don’t use the past tense. You’ll always love him Hermione, no matter where your life takes you now, you’ll always love Robbie. You’ll have this baby. That’s all you can do for him now kitten, and I know you’ll make him proud of his child.” Hermione stopped sobbing and was still, remembering that Robbie had also told her not to use the past tense. Her mind cleared a little, a change came over her and she said quietly but very firmly,

“You’re right Dad. I will. I’ll make his child proud of him too.”

She never called Frank ‘Daddy’ again.


Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more.It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.  Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 

This speech had come unbidden into her head. She could not help but try to fit it to her situation. It seemed to fit well. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was so slow to arrive and lasted so long when it did. That would be the ‘petty pace’ then. She knew that she would feel the way she did now 'to the last syllable of recorded time.’ Robbie had walked ‘the way to dusty death’ and his ‘brief candle’ was out. His death had left her ‘but a walking shadow’, the ‘poor player’ strutting and fretting her ‘hour upon the stage’ destined to be ‘heard no more.’ Time had no meaning. Day, night, morning, afternoon, they were just words, ‘signifying nothing’.

An occasional sip of coffee, a nibble at some toast, or a couple of mouthfuls of soup was the only sustenance Hermione took. She talked little, and it seemed that no matter what the initial subject, within minutes the subject was Robbie. So the conversation ended. At least twice a day she would stand in front of her father’s record player, with headphones on, listening to one track again and again. One time her mother heard her, with her hands on her tummy, whisper ‘Listen to the words little one, that’s where the meaning is.’ 

Frank and Jean were becoming seriously concerned about their daughter. “She can’t go on like this Frank. The weight is dropping off her; she’s not sleeping and its four days since she’s been out of the house. I’m worried about it affecting the baby. She’s got to snap herself out of it, or we have to do it for her. We have to get tough.”

“You’re right Jean; I know you are, but how? She is grieving remember.”

“I don’t want to stop her grieving Frank, but she has to start looking after herself, for the baby’s sake. So here’s what I’m going to do. She has to get started with all the ante-natal stuff, so the first thing is to get her to the doctors. I’ll go down in person to make the appointment now. I’m sure that once she realises she could be harming her child, she’ll buck up.”

An hour later Jean Granger walked into her daughter’s bedroom. It was a tip. Discarded clothes on the floor, drawers left open, it was a mess. Hermione lay in her bed. Red eyes with bags underneath, hair tangled, and expressionless face told its own story. “Excuse me, but have you seen my daughter anywhere?” A puzzled look from Hermione and she continued “Well, have you?”

“I don’t understand, Mum.”

“I’m looking for Hermione, where is she?”

“Mummy I…”

“Mummy? Why do you call me that? You’re not Hermione. Look at yourself you’re a mess. My girl would never get into a state like this. She used to have some self-respect. I suppose you’ll be telling me next that you’re pregnant.”

“Mum, you know I am, why are you being like this?”

“Like what? If you don’t care about your baby, why should I?”

“Mummy, that’s an awful thing to say, how can you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” Hermione went to speak, Jean prevented her, “Hermione just shut up and listen to me. You have an appointment at the doctors tomorrow. Eleven o’clock. You will be there because I’m going to take you. I’ll drag you if I have to but I would rather not have to do that. Then you and I are going to walk around the shops for at least an hour. When we get home you will not come up here, you’ll stay downstairs with us. We’ll talk like normal people and if we start talking about Robbie, so be it. And you can only use the record player once a day.” she softened her tone,

“Hermione darling, we know you’re hurting and I can’t even begin to imagine what you are going through. If I could take the pain instead of you, I would do it in a heartbeat. We are here for you darling, but we can’t do anything without your help. You can’t go on like this Hermione, you’ll hurt your baby, Robbie’s baby. What would he say if he could see you now? Please, Hermione, help us to help you.” Hermione sat on the edge of her bed and put her arms around her mother’s waist and sobbing, pulled her close.

“Please help me Mummy, I miss him so much. I’m never going to see him again and it’s tearing me apart. There’s a huge hole in my life and I don’t know how to fill it.” Jean smiled, although her daughter couldn’t see it.

“Sweetheart in a few months that big hole is going to be filled by your big belly. Then when the belly is gone, you’ll have something that will fill the rest your life, like you have filled mine, with love, happiness and joy. You have got a future you know. You may not see it now but it’s there. Granted, it’s not the one you wanted but it’s a future nonetheless. It’s up to you what you do with it. In the meantime you have to grieve, of course you do.” she looked around the room, “But not like this Hermione, please… not like this.” A period of silence, then Hermione said,

“OK Mum, I’ll try to sort myself out.” she looked around, “And the room.” Jean went to the doorway,

“Can I suggest one more thing Hermione?”

“Of course Mum, what?” Jean sniffed the air,

“Start by opening the windows and then have a shower… please!” Hermione almost smiled and very nearly laughed, until she sniffed the air herself.

She never called Jean ‘Mummy’ again.


Hermione and her mother were walking home after having been to the doctors and their visit the shops. They had a bag laden with everything anyone could ever want to know about pregnancy. Leaflets, pamphlets and myriads of forms to fill in. Their route home took them past the local church. As they approached Hermione saw a sign which read, ‘Problem? We may not be able to help, but we know someone who can.” She could not remember the last time she had been in a church. Way before Hogwarts of course.

“Mum, I’ll see you at home, I’m just going in here for a minute.”

“Hermione what…”

“Don’t worry Mum, I’ll be OK. Please… I won’t be long.” shortly she found herself sitting in the second row of pews, wondering what she was doing. Robbie, that’s why she was here. She remembered the seven days prior to his departure. Seven wonderful, magical days. She fingered the medallion he had given her. ‘Watch between thee and me’ that’s a laugh. She was suddenly aware of someone sitting a few feet away from her. A man. A young man. A young man with a white collar. And a smile.

“Hello. I’m Alfie” he said, “Don’t mind me, but I can see you are very unhappy. If you want to talk, I’m here. I won’t ask you any questions, but I will listen. If you would rather I went away, just say the word.

“No, stay please, I do have a question.” She told him of her circumstances.

“I’m so sorry…”


“I’m so sorry Hermione. What a tragedy for you. I think we’ll be meeting again soon, won’t we. I’ve just been asked to conduct your husband’s funeral. So what is your question? I think I know what it is, but ask away.” Hermione looked at the altar.

“If He is everything you believe Him to be, why has He done this to me? What did I do that was so wrong, that I deserve this?”

“I knew that was coming. He didn’t do this to you Hermione. We did. Us. Man. That’s who did this to you."

“He could have stopped it, why didn’t He?”

“The honest answer is, I don’t know. Children are dying in Africa every day. Why won’t He stop that? I don’t know. I think that part of your problem is that you are looking for someone to blame. You’re thinking that if you can find someone to blame, maybe the pain will stop. So you’ve gone after the biggest and easiest target there is. God. When you get home start writing a list and put God at the top. Then write down the names of everybody else who could be responsible. Politicians, military leaders, the MOD and so on. My guess is that you’ll end up with perhaps a hundred names. Here’s my point. All of those people are in the same position as God. Any one of them could have stopped what happened, but they didn’t.”

“God didn’t just give us our lives Hermione, he also gave us the responsibility for our lives. It’s our fault, not yours, not His. There is evil in the world, there always has been and there always will be, but without it how would we recognise the good? Don’t waste time looking for someone to blame Hermione, it won't take your pain away. I don’t think it will help you at all. It will turn you into someone you don’t want to be." Hermione’s gaze wandered around the church,

 “These are supposed to be peaceful places, why can’t I find peace here?”

“You will. Today your hurt is still too new, it’s raw. Come every day, come once a week or once a year. The peace you seek isn’t going to come in a flash, but in my experience, it will come. Give it time. You lost your husband, but you have his baby. Evil and good in a nutshell.” he paused, “Would you join me in a prayer for Robbie. Do you remember how to pray? I get the feeling it’s been a long time.”

“It has been a long time, could we do that?” The vicar came and sat beside her, held her hands in his. She closed her eyes and Robbie’s face lit up the darkness, and Alfie prayed. Then he stood and placed his hands on her head and blessed her. She was moved.

“I’ll leave you now Hermione. Stay as long as you like and come back as often as you like. That’s why we’re here. I hope you choose this church for your baby’s christening. God bless you Hermione, and your child. Goodbye.”

When she went to bed that night she remembered one thing. ‘You lost your husband, but you have his baby. Evil and good in a nutshell.’ She cried herself softly into the best sleep for many nights. They buried Robbie a few days later, with full military honours. Robbie’s mother, Carol, had cried even more tears after the service when Hermione had told her and Brian of her pregnancy. They had assured her that, like her own parents, they would give her all the love and support she needed.

Six weeks later.

Hermione opened the front door to reveal a young man in the olive green uniform of a Royal Marines Commando. Her first thought was to wonder why he wasn’t in school. Surely he wasn’t old enough to be on a battlefield. His left arm was encased in plaster, in a sling. “Mrs. MacDonald?”

“Yes, you must be Alan, I’ve been expecting you, come in please. My name is Hermione.” she showed him to the living room and introduced him to Frank and Jean, who diplomatically left the room saying,

“You don’t need us here, Hermione can tell us what we need to know later.” she waited until her parents had left, then stood in front of him and he said,

“Excuse me Mrs. MacDonald…”

“Hermione.” she interrupted,

“Sorry. Hermione, but…” he leaned forward and kissed her softly, full on the mouth. Her surprise was obvious,

“What was that?” but then suddenly she knew. The young man dissolved and began to cry.

“I’m so sorry… Hermione. I tried to… save him, really I did, but it was…” She embraced him, her heart breaking anew.

“Shush now Alan. I know you tried. Don’t think for one minute that you failed in any way. I owe you a great deal, and I have to thank you for what you did. I’ll remember it, and you, always. Now sit down and tell me why you just kissed me.”

“I was kneeling by Robbie’s side, rounds were going down in both directions, field dressings flying everywhere, I knew I was losing him. I think he did too. He grabbed my arm and I leaned down and he said, and this is precisely what he said, word for word, ‘Promise kiss Hermione…  me. Tell… love her… kiss Hermione.’ I promised, and then he… he went. I saw the light go out of his eyes. I know he was thinking of you, and that’s why I kissed you. I was keeping a promise.”

“What is the time difference between here and there Alan.”

“Four hours ahead, why?”

“Do you know the precise time he died.?

“Yes, crazy as it may seem I actually looked at my watch, it was…”

“Three twenty nine.” Hermione said. The young marine looked shocked,

“How… how could you know that? Oh I suppose the MOD told you.”

“No, they didn’t,” she said simply, “Robbie did.” He stayed for another hour giving Hermione as much detail as she could bear. He also told her of another casualty. Dusty Miller. She had already known that through official channels. She had not known that Dusty had died at Robbie’s side. Trying to help his friend, he had been shot through the head and died instantly.

“What about your arm, were you wounded?”

“No, I came through that madness without a scratch. The next day I fell out of a truck. I landed badly and broke my arm in three places. It’s going to be hard when I get back. The guys will be taking the piss something rotten. Fell out of bloody truck.” He started to laugh. Hermione couldn’t stop herself, for the first time in six weeks, she laughed. He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a photograph. “Would you like to have this?” It was a picture of a group of men posing around a vehicle. She spotted Dusty Miller and then there was Robbie, leaning back against the bonnet. He was smiling. As were they all. “There are twenty four of us there. Now there are twenty one. That was taken the day before we went out.”

“Thank you Alan. I’d love to have it.”

“It’s only a loan, we’ll get one enlarged and framed. You can keep that one. I’d better be going.” As she showed him out he asked,

“Is it right that you are expecting a baby?”

“Yes it is. I’m almost three months now.”

“Well when the baby is born will you please let me know,” he gave her a phone number, ‘we’ll wet the baby’s head in the club. The deployment will be over by then. We’ll have a whip round and get the baby a present. He or she will have twenty one honorary godfathers. That should tell you what we all thought of Robbie.”

“Thank you Alan, that’s very thoughtful, and please pass my love and appreciation to the rest of the guys. Thank you, Goodbye.”


Six months after the wedding. The letter.

Harry and the Weasleys were at breakfast when a post owl arrived with a letter for Harry. Unusually, it was not on parchment but on paper. He looked at the writing and recognised it instantly. “It’s from Hermione.” he said. Everyone paid attention on hearing that.

“Oh that’s nice. Read it out Harry, if you don’t mind that is. It will save passing  it around.” said Molly

“OK, then.” He opened the envelope and began to read.

Dear Harry and everyone at the Burrow.

I know that the decision that I took all that time ago was for a clean and final break. That decision has not changed. I have been tempted to write many times and only now have I succumbed for the first time. However, it will also be the last time. I cannot keep doing this and were it not for the news I have to tell you, I wouldn’t be doing it now.

 It’s been six months since I last saw you Harry, and you Ginny. I hope the two of you, and all there at the Burrow, are well. I’m OK at present although I am still recovering. ‘From what?’ I hear you ask.

I have been to hell, Harry, but I’m on the way back. The reason: three weeks after Robbie left, he was killed in a battle.

Harry stopped reading, looking at the last sentence in disbelief. He looked around the table at the shocked faces, they were all wide-eyed and open mouthed. Even Ron. Ginny had her hand over her mouth, tears forming in her eyes.

“Oh no, no, no, poor Hermione. I don’t know what to say, oh the poor girl.” said Molly. Harry blinked the moisture from his own eyes and continued reading,

I lost him Harry. I had him for seven wonderful days and I lost him. I became a Hermione that you wouldn’t recognise or want to know. I was a mess. I fell apart. Yes me, clever, intelligent me. When I think about it now I am disgusted. I thought I had nothing to live for, I was wrong, but more of that later. As you will understand, I miss him dreadfully. Today, tomorrow, every day for the rest of my life, I will miss him.

However, as I said earlier, I am recovering. I may never be one hundred per cent again but you know me, I’ll get as close as I possibly can. I love Robbie now as much as I ever did. I can’t see anything ever changing that. I talk to him every day, when I’m alone of course, people might think I’ve gone nuts otherwise. I have my bad days, but by and large each day that passes is slightly better than the one before. Molly was sobbing now, being comforted by Arthur. Ginny was drying her eyes, looking desolate. Harry continued, I felt bad yesterday when I realised that I hadn’t cried for two days. Even though I’m sick and tired of crying. I fear I have more of that to do.

Mum and Dad and Robbie’s parents have been wonderful, and the Royal Marines, magnificent. They go well beyond what their official responsibilities require. If I have a problem or need anything at all I just have to pick up the phone. To backtrack a little Harry, I’m sorry to tell you that Dusty Miller died in the same engagement. He was right by Robbie’s side.

He stopped reading once more, ‘I can’t do much more of this’ he thought. He had liked Dusty. “Ginny can you finish this, I can’t.” She took the letter.

There were twenty one survivors from the troop and I have received letters from every one of them. That’s nice don’t you think? I even had a visit from one of them. His name was Alan. He looked as though he belonged in school, not on a battlefield. He was giving Robbie first aid when he died. Can you imagine it, kneeling there with bullets flying everywhere, trying to save someone. Alan had a broken arm. I thought he had been wounded, but apparently he fell out of a truck the next day, broke his arm in three places. Ironic isn’t it, to come through a battle unscathed and then fall out of a truck. He started laughing before I did. That was the first time I had laughed since I heard about Robbie. I have a picture of the troop taken the day before, it is the last photo ever taken of Robbie. I treasure it.

So now I have to move on with my life. In two weeks I have to go to the Palace where I will receive Robbie’s Military Cross from the Queen. Sometime about two months after that I will give birth to Robbie’s child.

This time Ginny stopped reading. Around the table mouths were open once again. “She’s pregnant!” Ginny whispered. Harry’s head was swimming,

“She’s having a baby.” he said.

“Yes Harry,” said Molly, smiling now, “that’s what pregnant means. Ginny you really should have a long talk with him, you know. Read the rest of the letter, I can’t wait to hear more.”

Oh sorry, I didn’t mention that I’m pregnant did I? It must have slipped my mind, ha, ha! I found out two days before Robbie died. It was my greatest anguish at the time that I never had a chance to tell him he was going to be a father, he died without knowing. Although as my Dad said, if he didn’t know then, he does now. That helped me. I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl. The hospital asked me if I wanted to know, but I didn’t and still don’t. It really doesn’t matter to me. All I want is a healthy screaming baby that Robbie and I made together. Picture it; I am sitting in bed writing this letter with a tummy I can balance a cup of coffee on. Even I think I look funny. Dad has given the baby a name, at the moment it’s called ‘Bump’. Yeah, I know, it’s hardly original is it? It’s going to be a contrary child. Through the day it’s quiet, I never feel anything. As soon as I get into bed, it kicks and squirms all night long. Little bugger. 

 So where do I go from here? I’m going to be a mother first and foremost. I’m very fortunate that thanks to Mum and Dad I will always have a roof over my head. Then I’m going to get some Muggle qualifications and find a job. Maybe in a library. Then I’ll live my life. I’m sure that I and my little piece of Robbie will be fine. For the first time in a long, long time there is something I can feel just a little bit excited about. It will be a long road, but I have my Mum and Dad and Robbie’s parents, so I have lots of support. As I said at the beginning, the decision I made hasn’t changed. I still use magic now and then. It’s easier waving my wand than getting the vacuum cleaner out. Especially in my condition.

 So there we are, that’s it. My love to you all, always. Please give my love and best wishes to the crowd, Neville, Luna, Dean and anyone else you come across. A final request. Please do not reply to this letter. If you do then I’ll have to reply to that and so on and so on, and that makes my clean cut a little fuzzy. I wish you all the very best of everything. I’ll always remember you. I’ll tell Bump all about you and what wonderful people you are.

                             My love always. Goodbye.



Ginny folded the paper and placed it back in the envelope. Harry, his voice heavy with sorrow said “Poor Hermione. I wish she would let us write back. I’m sure we all have lots that we would like to say.” Ginny agreed,

“I’m sure we have Harry, but we absolutely must respect her wishes. We mustn’t write. She is going to get on with her life with her baby. We have to do the same.”

“We can’t do the same; you’re not having a baby are you?” He couldn’t help but notice Molly’s head shoot up in sudden interest. Ginny also noticed, she shot Harry a look that was as good as a slap in the face. ‘You’re in trouble later.’ she thought.

“No of course not stupid. How could I be? You know damn well what I meant.” Molly hid a grin,

“Language Ginny!”



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Beautiful when she smiles.: Chapter 6


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