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The Child Chapter Eleven:

Decisions



Hermione didn’t wait for the swinging door to close behind her to start looking for Ron. And it didn’t take her long to. A loud crashing noise came from a few floors above. Up the stairs she went and she saw nothing. On the second landing however she found a vase that was smashed to pieces, and Hermione hoped Harry wouldn’t come to find what was wrong. But Hermione had a feeling that why Harry wasn’t coming was because he already knew what wrong.

She found him at the topmost landing, breathing heavily and his hands clenched at his sides. He looked angry, but didn’t seem to be ready to yell at Hermione. He was waiting for her; she could tell because as she met him he turned and entered the first door. It was breezy room, and Hermione could tell it was Ron’s from the clothes strewn on the floor.

Once she entered, she moved into the corner and watched as Ron gripped the sides of his wardrobe, and held his head down fighting what ever he held inside. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione couldn’t hold back anymore. Shaking a little she went behind Ron, and slowly placed her small hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Ron quickly said, shrugging away from her hand. He stood up straight and moved away and faced her at last.

Hermione’s lip quivered when she saw the look of pain on Ron’s face. She tried to think of the words that would calm him, but couldn’t find anything. At last she sunk on to his bed, and waited for him to speak first.

“You should have told me.” Ron finally said no anger present in his voice.

Hermione didn’t look up. “And what good would that have done?”

“A lot more good then it is now.” Ron said, moving next to her on the bed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Ron.” Hermione looked to him. “We had our chance to make it work, and it didn’t. This child deserves a father that can give it everything it needs.” Hermione hoped Ron would understand.

Ron’s eyes narrowed a look of hurt on his face. “I can give it that.”

Hermione bit her lips, as tears filled her eyes. “Ron, you need to do a lot more then stop drinking for this child to-”

“Stop talking, Hermione!” Ron interrupted her, forcing her to turn on the bed and face him. “I love you, and I know you feel the same. You can’t say we missed our chance – you never even tried! You know I could give all the love I have to you and our child.” Ron told her desperately. “Please just listen…”

Hermione began to cry as Ron gripped her shoulders, and she looked down, wiping the tears away. “It’s just so messed up now…” she cried, and she let Ron pull her into his arms. “Viktor doesn’t know,” she said against Ron’s chest. “I just couldn’t find a way to tell him, and one thing led to another.”

“So what are you saying?” Ron asked, letting Hermione pull away. He was worried, afraid that Hermione was going to reject him again, and the tone of her voice didn’t help at all.

Hermione looked Ron in the eye, knowing that he deserved a truthful answer. “I’m staying with him Ron.” She professed.

Ron stumbled as he moved back on the bed, shaking a little. “Of course you are,” he spoke lowly.

“Ron don’t be like that… you know-” Hermione pleaded.

“No Hermione I don’t know.” Ron retorted. “I don’t know why you keep choosing him when I know you don’t love him like you love me. I don’t know why you choose him when you look at me the way you do. This wouldn’t be so hard if you knew it was the right decision.” Ron finished coldly.

Hermione stood up, no longer upset. She was angry now. He assumed to know what she was going through – he assumed he understood how hard or easy the decision was, and she could not believe he was making it sound simple.

“How dare you Ron,” Hermione fumed, “Tell me what I should be feeling and thinking? You have no idea how hard this decision is for me, and right now you’re just giving me further proof as to why I should carry it out. I was being honest with you, and you’re throwing it back at me! Damn you Ron!” Hermione shrieked the last bit, and quickly left his room before he could say anything more.

The door closed behind her with a snap, and out on the landing she leaned against the wall breathing heavily. Holding her stomach she tried to remain calm and listened for sounds from either Ron’s room or from downstairs. But she heard nothing. She assumed Ron had put a silencing charm on his room, and hoped the Harry and Annie had maybe gone outside, or at least paid no attention to what was going on.

After wasting another few minutes on the landing she quickly checked her face and hair in the loo before returning to the kitchen which she found empty. She wandered out into the back garden and found Annie and Harry talking quietly about wedding plans. She greeted them with a smile, and took a seat next to Harry.

“You were gone long – I ‘ope nothing is wrong.” Annie asked, smiling kindly.

“Oh no, just dithering over my growing belly.” Hermione laughed, and glanced at Harry. He had quite a different expression on his face, but quickly smiled at her when he noticed her gaze.

“You look beautiful, do not worry about zat!” Annie exclaimed, and stood up. “If you’re feeling up to it Harry and I were zinking of going for a walk.” She suggested.

Hermione glanced towards the door thinking of Ron. She knew he was probably in his room, getting dressed to go to work or something destructive. She couldn’t be here for much longer; she didn’t want to face him now. Turning back to Annie and Harry she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.” She agreed.






The grandfather clock in the hall chimed eight, and Hermione wondered how long Ron was going to be at work. Annie had already gone to bed and Harry had disappeared in his den to go over some reports, leaving her alone. She had been in her room, but feeling hungry had come to the kitchen to search for something to eat. A jar of raspberry jam sat open, and a spoon was in her hand. Licking her lips, Hermione dipped the spoon in the jar and once again plopped the tasty food in her mouth, sending her taste buds roaring away.

“Hermione,” Harry entered the kitchen, a smirk on his face.

“Hey Harry,” Hermione replied, putting her spoon down. “I hope you don’t mind, I was a little hungry.” Hermione said motioning to the jar.

“Hermione, don’t worry about it.” Harry said his tone more serious. He came around the table and sat down in the chair opposite. “I wanted to talk to you about-”

“Ron, I know.” Hermione finished for him. “I’ve been waiting for this conversation.” She claimed.

Harry shrugged, knowing that it was true. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing,” Hermione told him, hoping Harry would believe her. “He’s a little upset about the engagement, and I guess he took the news bad, but there’s nothing going on.” Hermione shrugged, and tried to avoid Harry’s eye by returning to her jam.

“Don’t lie to me Hermione. I know there is more to all of this. I’ve been with Ron the last few months, and I’ve never seen him trying so hard to be better. Something changed him, and I know it has something to do with you.” Harry stared pointedly at Hermione, knowing if he held out long enough she would break.

Hermione dropped her spoon again, and took a breath. “There was something going on for a while,” Hermione confessed, “But it didn’t go any where. I couldn’t put myself through that heartbreak again, Harry. And I won’t.” She added, shaking her head. “I just don’t want to lie anymore.” Hermione faltered, sinking in to her hands.

Harry reached out and placed one of his hands on Hermione’s shoulder. “Then don’t. Tell Viktor the truth, and I know the right decision will arise.” Harry spoke softly.

Hermione heaved a sigh, and looked at Harry. “Do you think he will hate me?”

Harry looked away. She watched as he struggled to find an answer before finally looking at her again. “I think he will if you don’t tell him.”

Hermione nodded, understanding. Pushing the jar of jam away from her, she stood up and held her stomach. “I should go to bed.”

“Good night,” Harry replied with a smile.

“Good night Harry,” Hermione murmured and left the kitchen. She walked down the hall and up the stairs. She turned on the second landing, pausing when she heard the floorboards above creak; Ron was home. She wanted to speak to him, but knew better. He still needed more time to cool off, and she still needed to decided what to do.

Hermione entered her dark room, and closed the door behind her. She stood still for a few minutes staring as the half moon light casted across the room, on the bed, and on the floor. It sent a spooky glow through the room, and Hermione enjoyed the beauty for a minute or two.

When she heard the foot steps of Harry go past her room Hermione woke up, and moved to change out of her robes. She put on simple night gown, and walked over to her bed. She pulled back the duvet and linens, and crawled under. Under the sheets, she looked out the window and watched as the clouds passed the moon above the other homes.

Her thoughts drifted to Ron and Viktor. She loved them both, she knew that already. But Viktor was in her eyes a friend, and nothing else. Ron was different. He had been her friend before everything else, and she loved him more then anything. But she was afraid; it was something she would admit. She was afraid that Ron would relapse and she and their child would be in the same position she had been in all those years ago. And that would only happen if she told Viktor, and decided to go with Ron.

There was a sound outside of Hermione’s room, and she lifted her head, wondering who it was. Who ever it was stood there for some time, as if deciding if they really wanted to knock on her door. She knew it was Ron, if it were Harry or Annie they wouldn’t be so hesitant. After a few more minutes Hermione heard the creak in the floorboards as Ron turned away and went up the stairs and to his room. Putting her head down again, Hermione sighed. It didn’t matter what, it would never work.







Ron grumbled to himself as he entered his room, and closed the door behind him. Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Why couldn’t he make her believe in him? The whole time he had been at work he had been trying to think of a way to win her over. All of the ideas he had come up with led to him trying to prove to her that he wasn’t a mess anymore, that he had control.

But did he have control? He didn’t know. If he wasn’t at home sleeping or eating, he was at work trying to find criminals. It didn’t matter if they were big cases or not, he just needed something to do. He didn’t have any friends besides Harry and Annie, and now that he really looked it seemed he didn’t have much of a life. Back in England, before Hermione left, he had had so many friends. Now they were gone. And it was his fault.

Leaning against the wall, he stared out the window and down to the street. There were some people out, walking and talking quietly underneath the bright night sky. He could hear as cars zoomed around on the streets nearby, and in the distance he could see the bright lighting of the Eiffel tower. For a city of love, he sure didn’t feel any of it.

He knew he deserved most of this though. He had been no help to Hermione after the war, moping around and choosing to drink his troubles away than face them and move on like his friends had; like Hermione had. Ron knew he had been a coward, that he had made the wrong decision like he had done so many times before. He had let his friends down, he had left the love of his life down, and where his life was now was where it belonged.

A knock at the door interrupted Ron’s thoughts, and wishful thinking got the best of him. Thinking it was Hermione, he rushed over to the door to answer it. As he opened it though e was surprised to see Harry standing there, looking a little grave.

“What is it Harry?” Ron asked, nervous.

“Can I come in?” Harry returned, and Ron stepped out of the way nodding.

Ron closed the door once Harry had entered, and turned to face him, bewildered by his friend’s actions. Scratching his head, he looked at his friends confused. “What’s going on Harry? Why the look?”

“You’re the father.” Harry breathed.

Ron froze. Harry had found out. How, he did not know. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was what Harry was going to do about it. At first, Ron tried to play it cool, acting as if he had no idea what Harry was talking about. “I’m the father of whom?” Ron asked, feigning disbelief.

“Don’t play dumb, Ron!” Harry countered, “This is serious.” He added. “You have no idea how this could ruin Hermione – how much it will hurt Viktor. How could you have been so stupid?” Harry cursed.

It was Ron’s turn to be angry. “How can you just assume that this is my entire fault?” Ron retorted, fighting back. “Hermione started the whole thing – she was the one that started the whole relationship. And she’s the one that didn’t tell me the truth and ran to Viktor telling everyone, including me the lies. Don’t put all the blame on me Harry or I will leave right now and you won’t ever see my face again.” Ron bellowed the last part.

Harry seemed to get the message immediately, and fell quiet, while Ron tried to catch his breath. Neither cared who had heard the fight at this late hour, and neither cared what consequences of it. Harry realized what he had done, taking his friend’s continuous immaturity the main reason as to why Hermione was now pregnant with his child.

Ron fell back against the door, breathing hard and staring at Harry waiting for him to start shouting back. But he didn’t, and didn’t seem to be about to say anything. Ron knew he deserved it a little – now that he thought about it Harry’s misgiving’s didn’t go unprovoked. Ron hadn’t done many grown-up things in his life, and the fact that Harry thought he had done another thing based on Ron’s own interest on himself didn’t hurt Ron as much as it should have.

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured.

“Me too,” echoed Ron. Standing up straight Ron fell on to his bed, and put his hand in his hands. Harry followed suit, but took a seat on the chair at Ron’s desk. He leaned on the arm, and stared at Harry.

“Have you two figured what’s going on from here?” Harry asked.

“She chooses Viktor, and I’ll probably never see her again.” Ron disclosed.

“That’s not the truth,” Harry argued. “I don’t think she’s even decided yet.”

“Is that how you found out?” Ron assumed.

“No, she hasn’t told me straight out yet. But I have known the two of you for too long to not notice the signs, and your reaction today was enough to seal the deal.” Harry responded.

“I’m glad you can read us so well.” Ron expressed.

“Why is that?” Harry asked, perking his head up a little.

“Because you would be a crappy Auror if not.” Ron replied wryly.

Harry smiled weakly. “Nice try,” he added.

The two were silent for a moment, and Harry stood going over to the door. “I do hope you two realize what a mess you’ve made, and that it isn’t only your hearts at stake. Viktor comes to France in a month, and by then you two have better figured out what’s going to happen. Or you will have to deal with me.” Harry finished, and Ron nodded understanding.

“Good night,” Ron muttered.

“Good night,” Harry responded, opening the door and left Ron alone in the darkness.


A/N: I am so sorry for the huge delay on this update. My boss decided it would be cool to make me work five shifts a week, which doesn't sound like a lot until you've got school/extra curricular things in the mix. And on to top it off, because of where I work my carpal tunnel caused me to barely be able to type. It was fabulous! :) Not that I'm trying to make up excuses. :D But I do hope that this chapter makes up for it, and that you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!

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