Legitimement Maries

Famille

Family

Hermione had experienced grief before.

It was this part of her life which she had dealt with since adolescence, and now it had reared its ugly head in young adulthood.

It was something which she thought that she would have been able to escape after Hogwarts. Voldemort had been defeated, and therefore her life would be good. That was how she had worked out the equation in her head; however, now that she had the chance to properly reflect, she realised how naive and childish this sounded.

She ought to have known better than to expect a better life. Perhaps she didn't deserve one, and that was why bad things kept happening to her.

On the odd occasions when she would speak, her voice would be hoarse from disuse.

When she ate, it was only because Fred reminded her that the baby needed something to eat too.

The death of her father had also brought forward the beginning of Hermione's maternity leave, and this left her with all day to ruminate on her thoughts.

Hermione had somehow convinced herself that all she wanted to do was stay in bed al day; however, being almost eight months pregnant made this almost impossible. A pregnant body was simply not made for spending all day in a supine position. In a fit of frustration, Hermione then started to pace.

One step at a time, she would walk up and down the small amount of space that made up her lounge room and kitchen, feeling so utterly despondent hat her face would literally show no emotion at all. Her arms would either hang limply by her sides, or gently rub the top of her stomach when the baby kicked at her ribs.

At first, Fred let this happen, thinking that perhaps this was Hermione's way of dealing with the recent death of her father. After all, she was only dealing with the news of her father's sudden death. She had watched as the doctors and nurses do everything they could, only for it to fail.

One week passed, then two weeks went by, and still Hermione remained within her stupor. Fred was completely at a loss about how to deal with this situation. In the past, he and his family had grieved together. That was how they had gotten through everything that had gone on. Hermione, however, was refusing to let anyone in. Her face remained an impenetrable mask.

Fred, doing what he always had done, turned to his mother for support.

Molly tried to hide her worry with the food that she brought around every couple of days– all of Hermione's favourites – but would inevitably end up leaving their flat with her mouth set in a grim line as she bestowed her son with a hug and words of comfort and luck. She maintained the hope that Hermione would deliver the baby in less than a couple of weeks, and that would be enough to spur her into her old self.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Immense pressure.

That was all that Hermione could feel low in her pelvis as she lay in bed. She was trying her hardest to get a few extra hours of sleep under her belt. The baby was due in just a few days, and sleep was something that she desperately needed before then.

However, the only problem was that she needed to keep using the loo all the time.

Doing her best to wiggle her body over to the edge of the bed, Hermione swung her legs over the side and forced herself into a sitting position.

Her vision went a bit funny for moment – lots of black spots that took a few seconds to clear – before her dizziness cleared and everything righted itself, and she was able to get herself up to go to the toilet.