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The Child Chapter 6

Pregnant



Hermione grasped the edge of the sink to steady herself as her head spun. She had no idea where the nauseated feeling had come from, but she guessed it was from the sushi she had shared with her co-worker at work that day.

Standing in the lavatory alone, her heavy breathing echoed around the room. Looking up in the mirror she saw her face was a light shade of green, and before she could even blink, she clamped her hand over her mouth and rushed to the nearest toilet.

“Hermione, is that you?”

Hermione was relieved to hear the soft voice of her friend, Hannah Abbott. Flushing the contents of the toilet down, she stood up from her knees, and left the stall and walked over to the sink.

“Merlin, are you all right Hermione?” she asked concerned, moving next to her.

Hermione nodded, splashing the cool water on her face. Conjuring a glass, Hannah handed it to Hermione so she could rinse her mouth. After a few rinses, Hermione put the glass down, and turned off the water. Leaning against the sink she looked at Hannah.

“I’m fine, just the sushi Haru brought didn’t agree with my stomach.” Hermione explained.

Hannah nodded, though still concerned. “You should probably go home, I’ll talk to George about giving you the day off, don’t worry.”

Hermione shook her head in refusal. “No, I’ll stay. I have some cases I need to look at before I go home.” She made to move away from the sink, but then her head started to spin again, so she stayed still.

Hannah looked at her pointedly. “Go home,” she said helping Hermione steady herself.

Hermione nodded in defeat. Thanking Hannah, she quickly headed to the staff room to change from her uniform. She walked inside, rubbing her forehead. The queasy feeling in her stomach hadn’t disappeared, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been before.

Slowly she changed from her uniform, and into her casual Muggle clothes. Putting her cloak, she looked in the mirror to check her appearance. She was pale, with a slight green tinge. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this sick, and she knew that taking the Floo network home would unsettle her stomach. Groaning slightly, because it would take her longer to get home and sleep. She left St. Mungo’s through the main entrance, and walked a little while until she found an empty alley way. Making sure that there was no Muggles around to watch, she Apparated home.






“Rubbish,” Ron mumbled to himself as he shoved some more old shirts into the rubbish bin. Straightening up he looked around his old bedroom. His mother had been after him for ages to clean the place up since he moved out of the house. No one used the room except for him, and that was only when he stayed the night –which was rare. But things had changed, he was moving back in.

He didn’t want to. If he had it his way he would not moving back in with his parents, but there was no other choice. He had been fired early that morning for being late to work. He had been so drunk the night before, that he never fully made it back to his flat, but instead in the stairway, where he was shaken awake by his landlord who was looking for rent money; rent money he did not have.

Putting some comic books and an old chess sat into a box, he shoved it under his bed. Deciding he would take a break, he left his half-packed bedroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen. When he entered his mother smiled pleasantly at him. If there was anyone who was happy about him moving back in, none of them could beat his mother.

“How is the cleaning going dear?” she asked, placing a platter of fresh blueberry muffins. Ron sat down at the table, grabbing one.

“I should get my stuff in by the end of today.” Ron answered, eating half the muffin in one bite.

“Don’t take such large bites, you might choke.” Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Ron ignored her. He definitely going to hurry up and find a job if it meant he had to hear that every day. Once he had finished, he stood up and headed back up to his room to continue with his clean-out. It didn’t take him long, and when he closed the last box he placed them in the attic. Staring at his room he noticed how empty it looked now, but how it now looked to belong to someone older than a seventeen year old. Wiping his hands on the back of his pants, he sat down on the edge of his bed, putting his head in his hands.

Thoughts of Hermione filled his head. He would be seeing her tomorrow night, and he wasn’t sure if he could still go through with his plan to break things off. He loved her, he would never stop, but he knew he wasn’t right for her. He couldn’t give her anything valuable, he knew Viktor was the better man. But it didn’t stop him from feeling that Hermione was his.

There was a light knock on the door, and Ron looked up. “Come in,” he said gruffly.

The door opened and Harry stepped inside. He gave a faint smile, and looked around the room. “Wow, your mum wasn’t joking. You were actually cleaning up.”

Ron didn’t laugh. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Annie were going home today.”

“Yeah, well, we couldn’t leave without your answer.” Harry told him.

“Oh, yeah, that.” Ron muttered. He looked to his friend and gave a shrug. “I would say yes, but I really need to find a job –I lost my job, I can’t pay rent- so I can move out on my own again.”

Harry nodded, understanding. “I heard about that, sorry. But you’ll come before the wedding, right?”

Ron nodded, giving a small smile. “Yeah, sure that would be great.”

“Great,” Harry said. He looked at his watch. “I should probably be going; Annie is probably talking your mother’s ear off.”

Ron gave a short laugh. He stood up, “I’ll come see you guys off.” He told Harry, and the two exited the room and made their way downstairs.

“About the job, I wrote to Kinsley asking if he could get Ludo to give you a job working in the Dept. of Games and Sports.”

“Thanks,” Ron said shortly. “But he’ll probably just laugh. Ludo knows all about my drinking habits.”

“Yeah, and we all know about his gambling habits.” Harry smirked.

Ron gave a genuine laugh as they entered the kitchen, and sure enough Annie was talking very quickly, so quickly that it didn’t even sound English, to Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley looked up and half smiled half frowned. “Leaving now, are you?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes, we are Mrs. Weasley.” He said. Mrs. Weasley hugged both Harry and Annie, and Ron hugged them both as well. As Harry pulled away he muttered, “Don’t fuck up.”

Nobody else heard except for Ron, and he stared frozen at Harry for a moment before his mother snapped him out of his reserve. “Ron, don’t you have to clean up your room?”

Ron realized that Harry and Annie had already left the Burrow, and were probably already out of the boundaries and about to Apparate back to France. He only nodded, and left the kitchen and went back to his bedroom to finish cleaning up.







“You are sure, you are vine?” Viktor asked again, shoving a pillow behind Hermione’s head.

Hermione nodded slowly, focusing on not getting so dizzy that she wanted to retch again. She had come home, stumbling on the solid ground, and nearly collapsed to the floor if Viktor hadn’t been in the bedroom to catch her. He had picked her up in his arms and carried her over to her bed as she mumbled about not feeling well. He had been rushing around the home trying to look for the potion that Hermione had said would settle her stomach, and having no success at all. While she lay in bed, focusing hard on not hurling again.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt sick like this, even as a small child. Her stomach churned, and her head spun. Every so often she would gasp, and crawl out of bed and to the loo. Viktor returned with no potion, and Hermione just shrugged it off, deciding that she would just get over it the natural way.

“I vill be down the hall if you need anything.” He told her calmly.

“I know,” Hermione mumbled as her lids grew heavy. He bent low and kissed her hand, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

As tired as she was, she fought it. A million thoughts had risen in her head. How on Earth did she become so sick? She was quickly realizing that it had not been the sushi making her sick, but something else. Something much more worrisome.

I’m pregnant.

She wasn’t questioning herself, she some how knew it was right. She knew exactly whose child it was, and it wasn’t Viktor’s.

Oh, God, what have I done! Hermione screamed to herself. She knew Ron was in no fit state to be the father to her child. Not to mention she was engaged to Viktor! Finding it suddenly very hard to breath, Hermione forced herself to sit up. How could she have been so foolish to get herself pregnant with Ron’s child? She wasn’t even completely sure if it was his. No, it is his. I know it.

Hermione’s hands went to her stomach, tears coming to her eyes. She was going to have Ron Weasley’s, something she had once wished, dreamed about. And now it was actually happening.

One last pang of nausea hit Hermione, and she rushed to the lavatory, crashing on to her knees, and bending low over the loo. In relief, she lay down on the cool bathroom floor; the side of her face cooling as she breathed slowly, sweat trickling down her brow.

Than and there she decided what she was going to do. She was going to end everything she had with Ron, and marry Viktor and no matter who’s the child’s father really was, it didn’t matter, he would be Viktor’s.

Picking herself off the floor, she started the shower, and after undressing stepped in, breathing in the warm air, and letting the water wash everything in her past away.






Ron scratched his rough chin distractedly, staring at the door of the Muggle restaurant. Hermione had sent him a letter a few hours earlier saying she wanted to meet him a day earlier. He was still on the fence of whether he wanted to end things or not. He knew the right choice was too tell Hermione he never wanted to see her again, but what he wanted was not that at all. In truth he found that Hermione had gotten something new in him, a need to be better. He knew moving back home, and loosing his job could not be considered ‘better’, but after so many years of telling his mother no, he figured that he had given up as a more mature things. Not to mention, he may or may not be getting a better job.

Blinking for the first time in five minutes, he missed as Hermione entered the restaurant, looking as beautiful as ever. Her brown locks were worn down, how he had liked it, and she wore a simple black blouse and skirt with tall boots. She spotted him immediately, but to his displeasure no smile reached her mouth or eyes. In fact now that he looked at her again he noticed how pale she was, and how her eyes were blood shot as if she had been crying. This was not going to be good, he could feel it.

“Ron,” she almost gasped.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t have much time to clean up.” Ron said before he could stop himself.

Hermione shook her head, a tiny smile reaching her eyes. But when she looked up at Ron, a frown quickly replaced the smile. “I don’t really care about that, I asked you to be here because,” she paused taking a deep breath, her eyes seeming to search her mind for the right words. “I asked you to be here because I need to break things off with you. Viktor and I are going to get married soon, and it’s wrong for us to be together.”

Ron stared frozen. It felt as if someone had stuck a sword into his gut, and though he had been contemplating ending things with Hermione he had not expected her to end things before him. Gripping the bar, he managed to stand, and forced a smile on his face.

“I was thinking the same. It’s not like we really have any feelings for each other. I was just looking for a good fuck, and you had cold feet.” Ron though it strange that the voice who had said those words sounded exactly like his own. A shock went through him when he realized he had been the one to say it, that he had let it slip.

Hermione looked stunned, but it quickly changed to anger. Her voice was sharp, harsh. “Well, if that was all this was, than maybe it’s for the best that were ending it. Obviously I had thought wrong about how you felt about me and this relationship.”

“Yeah, I guess you were.” Ron replied vacantly.

Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes, as she reached up around her neck. He watched as she pulled a familiar silver chain, a silver otter dangling from it, and yanked it off her neck, not bothering to un-hook it. Pulling his hand open, she placed the necklace in his hand, and closed it.

“I never gave it back to you last time.” She said hoarsely as she fought the tears. She turned on her heel and left the restaurant.

Unaware of the stares Ron was receiving he turned back to the bar, and sat down. “Whiskey, I don’t give a fuck which kind.” He mumbled as the bar-tender came near to ask what he wanted.

Staring at his closed palm, he slowly opened it to stare at the broken necklace. He had given it to Hermione on their five year anniversary. It had been the only time that year he had shown much emotion with Hermione, and she had been pleased that he was finally paying attention to her. They had made love that same night, he remembered it well. He hadn’t felt so alive in a year on that night. If he had known he would loose her in less than a year he would have changed, realized that he should have moved on, he knew she would be his, and they would probably have a few kids.

Ron snorted lightly to himself, and watched the bar-tender place a shot glass in front of him and pour whiskey into the glass. Like Hermione would ever want to take the time to have children with him. Than again, he couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t exactly the most attentive person at the time to her, so how would he be any different to their children?

Taking the glass in his hand, he lifted it up to the bar-tender, “Cheers,” he said, and downed the glass.

A/N: I am so amazed that I finished this, I really am. I hope you all liked it, and aren’t too upset about them ‘breaking up’. You now know why this story is called, ‘The Child’, if you hadn’t guessed correctly on what happens by now. Any how, it’s nearing two o’clock; I think I should get to bed. Thanks for reading, please review!

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