The Prophecy of Descendants

JUNE

Something was not right.

Molly regarded her face with the practiced eye of both a mother and a healer.

The child's normally sparkling brown eyes were intermittently dull.

Her skin alternated between blotchy and flushed.

Her body was quite obviously exhausted, despite the hours of sleep she was getting.

Molly regarded the young girl who picked at her very bland dinner with obvious disinterest. While she never really was a voracious eater like Ron, Hermione usually cleaned her plate out of mere manners and respect for the chef.

She watched as Hermione half-sang the Birthday Song to Ginny. She saw the younger woman's complexion blanche at the sight of the Bavarian chocolate cake, usually Hermione's favorite.

And they all barely caught sight of her as she bolted from her seat and rushed out the back door, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

Something definitely was not right.

And Molly Weasley was determined to find out what.

******************

"She'll be fine, dears" Molly said, passing the boys as she came down the stairs and into the kitchen. She wiped her hands on a towel as she walked in a very clinical gesture.

For a brief moment, Ron caught sight of Hogwart's strongest healing-student in years, and he realized that had it not been for young love and an impromptu family, his mother might be the Ministry's strongest Healer on staff.

"What's wrong with her, Mrs. Weasley," Harry asked in a quiet voice, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Nothing that a few months won't fix...then seventeen years more," she said in a voice that was too evenly controlled to be her normal tone.

"She's--?" Harry couldn't finish the thought aloud, his eyes focusing on the stairs as if he were trying to see through the walls up towards his bushy-haired friend.

"And right upset about it, too," Mollly replied before setting her sights firmly on Ron as she continued. "So if you aren't going to be supportive- or at least comforting- do not go up and see her."

His blue eyes narrowed and his face flushed from temper as he pieced together his mother's cryptic message. He turned swiftly on his heel and out the door, allowing the bottom portion of the Dutch door to slam shut behind him.

******************

A small sniffle was heard through the door and it caused him pause before knocking.

"Come in," she called.

"Hey," he said, peeking around the door. "You up for company?"

Hermione turned her head towards him, swiping at her cheek with the back of her hand and grinning slightly. "With you? Of course."

He was sure to close the door behind him as he entered the room. She had sat on the edge of the bed and he copied her position. Her eyes were red from crying.

"Not exactly how you planned today to go, I'm sure," he said, half-heartedly grinning.

Hermione chuckled lightly. "No, I don't believe this was penciled into my schedule."

"Alright, though?"

She nodded. "I suppose so, yes. It is what it is, Harry. I just have to make the best of it."

He looked down at the ghastly-orange comforter on what usually was Ron's bed, but had become Hermione's whenever she stayed at the Burrow. He pulled gently at a fraying thread. "You going to write Viktor?"

"What? No!" Her expression was both confused and annoyed.

"Shouldn't he know, Hermione?"

"Why would he need to know?"

"I mean, he is... you two were..." he wasn't able to elaborate, still not quite sure enough with the situation to form the words.

She smiled slightly, finally catching his meaning. "We weren't, Harry."

"You weren't?"

"No," she said with a faint shake of his head. "Viktor and I broke off months ago- right when The Order realized that fighting wasn't a part-time job for us anymore. He began getting a bit testy about all the time I was spending with The Order instead of with him."

"You never said anything."

"It didn't seem important," she replied. "Not compared to defeating Voldemort."

"But, Hermione, if it was important to you, then you should have told us. We'd have listened. I mean to say- if you needed a shoulder to cry on..."

"I know you would have been there, but it wasn't that upsetting. Honestly, it was almost a relief, Harry. If we didn't break off for that reason, it would have been something else. It just wasn't meant to work out."

"You seem sure of that."

"I am," she said with a small smile- the only size smile she could muster considering the circumstances. "Any man who doesn't understand that you and Ron are my family, doesn't understand me and I can't be with someone like that."

"He was jealous of us?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

She smiled. "He said it wasn't fair that you two knew me better than he did."

"Maybe Ron and I can explain to him the bonding ritual established at eleven years old. Involves Trolls, bathrooms and stupidity, if I recall correctly. Maybe then he'll feel part of the gang?"

"I highly doubt it!" She chuckled, waving off the topic quickly. "Regardless- no need to tell him anything that doesn't involve him."

"So, you're sure its not Viktor then," Harry summed. "Well, Hermione I don't mean to pry, but...who?"

Her features contorted with emotion and she bit her bottom lip as she shook her head and tears pooled in her eyes. "I don't know," was all she could manage to say before sobs overtook her again.

Harry moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her frame in all the comfort he had to offer.

"We'll figure it out, Hermione. I promise."