| �Hello students,� Hermione greeted. It was her first day as the professor in the Arithmancy class at Hogwarts. She had sent in her reply to Dumbledore almost immediately after writing to Ginny (which she still couldn�t believe she had done) and went shopping for her things in Diagon Alley days later.
Ginny owled her the next day and went over and over how much she missed her and how she wanted more than anything to see her. Hermione had gone to a lot of unbelievable trouble to conceal her large stomach so as not to raise questions too soon. If she and Ginny began talking again, she would eventually say something. It wasn�t as if she could hide it forever. She and Ginny owled each other every day, and she learned of not only her, Harry, and Daisy (whom she wanted to meet immensely), but also the entirety of the Weasley family. Somehow, Ginny hadn�t mentioned Ron and had been seriously touchy when it came to him. She was thankful. The last thing she needed was Ginny blatantly talking about Ron�s wife. Hermione hadn�t expected to have all the memories of her past thrown at her when she walked into the castle. Even seeing the outside, the large hoops on the Quidditch pitch� she could almost hear the shouts from the stands as Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup back in her third year. She remembered the gasps of horror as Harry got knocked around on his broomstick while playing. She shook them out of her head and stepped into the entrance. She heard laughing and running all around her; ghosts of her old past. She could almost hear Fluffy, Hagrid�s large three-headed dog growling at her. She remembered the plain fear that had been instilled inside and out as she saw the large basilisk�s eyes glinting back at her from a mirror when she was twelve. She�d never, as long as she lived, forget the Yule Ball in her fourth year. Of course, she had had a wonderful time with Viktor and had enjoyed his company that summer when she had visited him. But she never felt as attached to Viktor as she had intended to. He was obviously very smitten with her and she hated not being able to return her feelings, but her heart had always belonged to someone else. It was in their fifth year that Ron had finally said something to her. The echoes of that conversation rang in her ears as well. �Her-Hermione?� Looking up from her Arithmancy book, she blinked once or twice to stare at the large blue eyes in front of her. �Yes, Ron?� �Um� can I talk to you in private for a second?� She wasn�t sure of what he was up to, but whatever it was, it better have been good. She really needed to get some work done. Then again, it gave her a little bit of a thrill to be alone with Ron. For some reason, she�d been feeling like this a lot lately. Setting her book down in a huff, she followed Ron out of the common room. They walked at a slow pace for a while, in silence. Hermione anxiously excitedly waited for him to say something. Finally, not being able to stand much more, Hermione turned to Ron and stared at him intently. �What is this about? I have real work to be done.� �I� uh� well�� �If you�re just going to stand here and stammer like an idiot, do it alone! I have other things that need tending to, and as a matter of fact, so do you! I can�t believe you�re acting like such a prat this year! We have O.W.L.S. to take, Snape�s being a royal pain about our Potions essay, McGonagall is piling on the homework to get us ready and you�re not even�� Ron broke her rant, placing his hands on her face and gruffly pulling her in for a kiss. She smirked at the memory. Well, you couldn�t really call it a conversation, but at least he had made his move. From then on, things had been different. �Um, Professor Granger?� a squeaky voice called from the front. She was instantly snapped back to reality and reprimanded herself for drifting off so easily. �Yes?� she asked. �Are you� um� all right?� Hermione pressed her hand to her forehead. She was sweating, pale, and shaking. She was not all right. She shook her head and gave the class a warm smile. �Don�t mind me, students, I happen to have a slight� condition� that might make me a bit woozy for the next few weeks. Don�t mind that though,� she said, turning around and gathering her books. She grabbed a roll of parchment and unraveled it easily. �All right, shall I take roll then?� She read down the list, checking off everyone who presented a clear response. However, once she reached the end of the list, she choked on her words. �Weasley, Jenna. Weasley, Monica.� She touched her throat delicately, staring at the name for a few fleeting seconds. Could it be? She looked up and saw two redheaded girls staring at her expectantly, waiting for their names to be called. It couldn�t be� when she did the math in her head, there was no way either of the girls could have been Ron�s daughters. She and Ron were the same age, and he would have to have been sixteen when he had these girls. �Um, Professor Granger, we�re here,� the redhead with the stack of books sitting in front of her said. �Oh-oh yes, yes, of course, sorry,� she answered, checking their names off. And after setting the roll down, she forced the Weasley girls out of her mind and continued with the lesson plan. It was all she could do not to stare at them, trying to decide whose was whose. |
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