| There was no use denying or trying to hide it any more. Hermione was very much pregnant, and had been congratulated more times than she could count. The nursery her mother was setting up at home was very elaborate, indeed. Her mother really knew how to go all out. She soon found that it was getting harder and harder to do more common things, like putting her knickers and shoes on. She would try for a while and groan, frustrated, and collapse into a heap on her bed. She was set to leave in a couple of weeks and would be out for almost three months. She was anxious about having the baby, but livid about missing so much work at a job she had just started. She loved her class with the third year Gryffindors. She hadn�t talked to the Weasley girls outside of class, but she had made sure to stare at them while they were working. She still couldn�t tell which Weasley they looked like. She knew for sure that it wasn�t Ron, but she had to know. She just� had to. She�d told Ginny everything, and had given Ginny permission to tell Ron she was in town for good, alone, and in dire need of talking to him. That had been days ago, and she had heard nothing from anyone but Ginny. Ginny had cried when she told her about Jonathon, and not just because of what happened in July. She cried for the magical oppression and the freedom she�d been denied. �If my stupid brother had only thought about what he was doing, none of this would have happened to you,� she cried. �You would have been free, loved, and wanted!� Hermione sighed, staring at the table. �Things didn�t work out that way, and they won�t.� �Why not? It�s not like Ron�s got anything,� she said sarcastically. �What?� Hermione�s head bolted upright. Ginny blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. She smiled. �He�s Uncle Ron. He�s the only one of the entire Weasley family with no family of his own. He�s all the kids live for though. He spoils them all rotten. Makes them toys, buys them presents�� �Makes them toys?� Hermione cut off, her mouth now wide open. �What you�re telling me is that he�s not married, has no kids, makes toys, and is adored by his nieces and nephews?� Ginny nodded. Hermione sat in her seat, completely dumbfounded. Everything she had thought about Ron was wrong� except for the fact that he loved kids. That had been true. She had mouthed wordlessly for a while, feeling like a fish as Ginny stared at her, waiting. Hermione then gave permission to Ginny to tell Ron all she needed to know. She just had to share the rest herself. And yet, October had come, and she had been back in England for roughly three or four months, and Ron had not made any move to talk to her. Maybe he didn�t love her anymore� maybe that was truly the reason he had broken up with her. She didn�t let that thought even fathom in her brain. It was just unfeasible. She�d seen his eyes. She�d felt his desperate touch on her skin the night he left her. He had still loved her that night� but maybe he didn�t love her anymore. Wiping tears from her eyes, she proceeded to the Great Hall for breakfast and before she could make it in, a familiar voice sounded behind her. �Professor Granger?� Hermione whipped around and her curly brown hair followed behind her. She saw Monica Weasley, dashing toward her. Other than the color of her hair, Monica looked exactly like Hermione had when she went to the school. Long, curly hair falling over her eyes, dozens of books pressed up against her chest, a book bag slung over her shoulder with no doubt, more books inside, and an inquisitive look on her face. Perhaps she wanted another book? �Well hello, Miss Weasley.� The name sent a harsh ripple down her back. Fighting to make her face seen out of the bushels of hair, she smiled congenially at Hermione. �I uh� well actually I�ve been wondering this for quite some time�� Hermione folded her hands and listened patiently. �It�s not about class,� Monica added quietly. �Oh,� Hermione said, looking around uneasily for a second. �My father�� �Your father?� Hermione cut in. �Oh, sorry, dear. Continue.� �Well, my father wanted to know if you were� if you were�� she struggled, looking for words. �I mean, he said he didn�t know you very well, but he knew well enough� or if you�re even her�� �Monica dear, you�re rambling,� she said to the girl, but with a look of adoration on her face. She had obviously picked up that trait from her darling Uncle Ron. �S-Sorry,� she stuttered. �I was just um� wondering if you were Hermione Granger.� Hermione only smiled and asked, �And why would your father want to know that?� �Because of my Uncle Ron.� Hermione�s smile faded instantly. She put a hand to her chest almost immediately. �Your Uncle� Ron?� she gulped, saying his name. Monica nodded, flinging her hair over her shoulders expertly without the use of her hands. As she stared at her professor, a smile played on her lips. �You�re the famous Hermione Granger.� Hermione flushed as another aching ripple went through her back. The pains of love, she thought bitterly. �My Uncle Ron, Uncle Harry, and Aunt Ginny all tell me wild stories about you. Even Uncle Fred and Uncle George.� Hermione�s head whirled. There were way too many uncles in that one sentence. But she finally shook the fog off out of her head and realized what Monica had told her. �They� talk about me?� �They tell stories about you like it�s a pastime, they obviously miss you,� Monica sighed, looking Hermione in the eyes now, more like a sister than a professor. �You should come back to our family Hermione,� Monica wistfully used her first name, and Hermione�s ears turned bright red. �We need you. Uncle Ron needs you.� |
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