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The Child Chapter 1

The Mistake

Hermione walked into the dark tavern, her heels killing her, and her head pounding. She knew this probably wasn’t the best place to come, and that she should have just gone home. But she didn’t want to, not yet.

She sat down at the bar, and Tom gave her a toothy grin. “Hello, miss, I haven’t seen you come through here for a while. What can I get you?”

Hermione smiled, thinking for a moment, and decided. “I’ll have a shot of Fire Whiskey.” She told him.

He seemed a little surprised by the request, but quickly got her drink and placed it in front of her. She took it in her hands, and slowly spun it in circles in her finger tips before picking it up, and drinking it, throwing her head back in the process.

Swallowing hard on the burning substance she slammed the shot glass on the bar, and waved her hand to get another. She had never been much of a drinker, but the day had been a long one. She had had four people die under her care today, one of them being a small child. She had never seen anything like it, not since the days of the war, and she hadn’t been a Healer then, only a trainee.

After about her fourth shot, she started to feel a little dizzy, and she looked around the dark pub as if there was a fog over it. Since she had entered the tavern it’s occupants had lessened in numbers. Before there had been at least fifteen people, but now it had lessened to ten at the most. She turned around, and prepared herself for her fifth shot when someone brushed pass her.

The heavy scent of Fire Whiskey and cigarettes filled her nose, and she watched as disheveled looking man sat on the bar stool to seats over. He looked strangely familiar, but the haze that seemed to fall over her eyes kept her from seeing who he was.

He didn’t look at her, only watched as Tom placed a large glass in front of him of Fire Whiskey. She watched as he took it in his hands and raised it to his lips. He took a gulp of it, almost as it if were water, and put it back down. She assumed he was already drunk before he entered the pub, and wondered how someone could walk around like that.

All she could do was smile, and chug down her shot, and slam it back to the counter for it to be refilled. This got the attention of the man and he looked at her with blood-shot eyes. Giggling one moment then silent the next, Hermione found herself staring into the red-blue eyes with amazement. They seemed so familiar, they almost made her feel as if she was at home in those eyes.

“’Mione?” The man asked, calling her by a familiar nickname.

She squinted, rocking on her stool. That’s when she saw who he was, and nearly fell off her chair if he hadn’t stood up and caught her. She stared up into his eyes as he helped her back on her stool. “Are you all right?” He asked, his warm breath reeked of liquor and cigarettes, but it didn’t bother her.

She only nodded, turning to the counter, and leaning on her hands. “I’m fine, don’t worry. What’re you doing here?” She asked slurring her words.

“I come here every night.” He admitted, moving to the stool next to hers. Though he was closer, he kept the distance in his voice. It had been a long time since they had last spoken.

She looked at him, still leaning on her hands. He looked so different from the last time she had seen him. His face was unshaven and his hair had grown long, and now matter to his skull. He still looked handsome in her eyes, but broken.

With the thought of that, her stomach turned. It was her fault that he was this way. She sat up straight, and faced him completely. “How’ve you been?” She asked.

“Fine, I guess.” He told her, picking up his whiskey again. He chugged half of the glass, avoiding her eye. She could tell he didn’t want her to be there. She knew she was hurting him with her presences.

“That’s good, I’ve been fine too.” She said, feeling a little uneasy as new emotions came over her.

For some reason she had the over whelming feeling of hunger being near Ron. The last few weeks she had thought a lot about him, and as she watched him move slowly away from her on his seat, she reached out and placed her hand on his thigh. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

He stared at her with wide eyes, as if he had never been this awake before. He put his glass to his lips and drank the last of his whiskey, before putting it on the counter. He turned back to her, and stood up letting her hand fall.

Moving around the seat, he reached out for her hand, and before she even realized what she was doing, she placed her hand on his and let him lead her away.

Hermione opened her eyes and quickly shut them again as the harsh sunlight pierced her eyes. She felt someone move next to her, their hairy leg rubbing against her hairless one. She opened her eyes again, this time shielding them from the light with her hand.

She looked around the small room. To the right of her stood a tall wardrobe and desk, and to the left was an empty wall with a window in the middle of it. There were rolls of parchment and other things strewn across the desk, while the doors of the wardrobe were open revealing a pile of clothing. Across from the bed was a door with three big locks on it. And in one corner at an old chair with an old broom behind it.

Where am I? Hermione thought to herself, as she looked around. She couldn’t remember a thing from the night before. She could only remembering walking into the leaky cauldron and ordering a few Fire Whiskey’s.

“…don’t leave, please…” Hermione was shaken out of her thoughts, when the man she was with mumbled in his sleep. She looked hoping he wasn’t awake and almost screamed when she looked at his face.


She slowly moved away from him, not wanting to wake him. How did I end up here? She asked herself. She could remember only moments of her time in the Leaky Cauldron, and that’s when she remembered seeing Ron at the pub. She moved to the edge of the bed and stayed still watching him. He moved again turning on his side; he was now facing her sound asleep. The blanket was only covered his bottom half, leaving his chest bare.

She stared at the deep scars that ran down his chest, stopping to gaze at one that stretched from his shoulder down to his stomach. She remembered very well when he had gotten it. It was a month before Harry had killed Voldemort, and they had been trying to escape Death Eaters. They never found out who had sent the curse at him, all she could remember was seeing him lying on the ground, bleeding terribly. She had been so scared. Victor had been there, and brought him to the hospital.

At the thought of Viktor, Hermione’s heart fell. He was probably wondering where she was. Things had been bad between him and her lately, ever since he proposed to her. She pretended to be happy, but she knew he saw past it.

“…Hermione, I love you…don’t go…” Ron mumbled again in his sleep, causing Hermione to stare at him wide eyed. He was dreaming about her. But not just that, about the day when she left him for Viktor. It had been so hard for her to do that, but at the time it was what was best for her. Ron wasn’t all there after the war. After witnessing the death of his sister he had never been the same.

She looked down and realized she was naked, and there was nothing covering her. She looked on the floor and found her clothes. Slowly she slid off the bed and stepped on to the cold hard wood floors. Quickly she changed her clothes. Finding her purse on the floor, she took out a small compact mirror she checked to see if her hair looked fine. It was, and she closed it putting it back in her purse.

She turned to the door and walked towards it. Opening the first lock she glanced behind her to make sure that Ron was still sleeping soundly. When she turned back she opened the second one quickly. Now al that was between her and a nightmare was one small bolt. She was surprised to see that the doors were completely locked, seeing as the two of them had to be quite drunk not to realize who the other was.


Hermione whipped her head around to see if she had woken up Ron, but he lay still, his chest moving up and down. She turned back around and cautiously turned the door knob, hoping it wouldn’t make to much noise.


Hermione quickly swung the door open and ran out of it closing it behind her. She ran down the hall looking for stairs.

“Hermione what are you doing here?” Ron was outside, only wearing boxers. “What happened?”

Hermione stopped at the end of the hall. There was a hall leading off the one she stood in, which lead to stairs. “I’m sorry Ron, for everything. Goodbye.” She whipped around, Apparating home.

A/N: I hope you guys like the idea of this story. There is still much more drama to come, so stay tuned (because you know, this is a television show, :D). Thanks for reading, and please review!

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