chapter one

Juggling her groceries in hand, Hermione Granger had a hell of a time trying to get in her flat. She could have Apparated in, but she was exhausted. She finally got the keys in the lock and opened the door. She found Molly Weasley sitting in one of the chairs reading to Hermione's three year old son, Jamie. Molly told Hermione firmly that while Hermione was at work and running errands, she would be the babysitter for little Jamie.

"After all, he is like a grandson to me," Molly had once told her.

James Ronald Granger, "Jamie" for short (or "James Ronald" when he was in trouble), was bright and small for his age. He had his mother's mousy brown hair, and Hermione knew that if she let it grow, it would be just as bushy. His eyes, though, his eyes were a brilliant emerald green, unlike his mother's, but exactly like his father's. So much of Jamie reminded her of Harry Potter.

"Mummy! Grandmother Weasley was reading me a story," Jamie announced when Hermione came in.

"I just finished, actually," Molly said. She got up. "Here, dear, let me help you with those bags."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." After they put the groceries in the small kitchen (Molly charmed them to put themselves away), Hermione went back to the living room and picked up her son. "I hope you were a good boy, Jamie."

"Of course I was, Mummy."

For a boy of only three, Jamie was very articulate. He didn't stumble over his words, and he didn't speak like a normal toddler. "Grandmother said I was."

"Jamie was very good," Molly assured Hermione. "Well, dear, I must be going. You know Arthur and I are helping Ginny with her wedding plans."

Ginny was marrying Neville Longbottom, and she wanted a big wedding. Arthur and Molly were just trying to find a way to pay for it, but Neville's grandmother was going help pay, too.

"'Bye, Mrs. Weasley. Send Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny our love."

"'Bye, Grandmother!" Jamie said, brightly.

Molly Disapparted, and Hermione turned to her son. "Jamie, I think it's time for your bath, and then it's bedtime."

"Okay, Mummy."

Hermione bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and she got him dressed for bed. She sat down on the edge of Jamie's bed, and she brushed his hair off of his forehead.

"Sleep well, Jamie," Hermione said, kissing his head.

"Goodnight, Mummy."

Hermione turned off his light, and she closed the door behind her. Hermione went in her bedroom across the hall, and she put on her nightgown. Like every night, before she went to bed, she thought about Harry. Where he was. How he was doing. Was he all right? Is he in pain? She knew Harry would have been proud of his son, and she wanted him there with her and Jamie so badly. She drifted off to sleep, remembering the last night they saw one another...

Harry was exhausted, beaten, and broken, and it had only been an hour training session with Lupin and Dumbledore. He pulled himself in the Common Room, and he sat down on the couch beside Ron. Hermione was on the floor, doing her Transfiguration homework, and Ron was struggling with his Potions essay.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, not looking up.

"I guess you could say that..."

"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up at him, making eye contact.

Harry couldn't tell them, but he had to. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, and he told them everything. Okay, so he told Hermione about the prophecy before Ron, but still. Harry drew in a deep breath and sighed.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Alone."

Ron snapped up. "What're talking about, mate?"

"I'm leaving. Dumbledore's sending me to Greece to finish my training. After I'm done, I'm off to fight Voldemort."

Hermione's eyes rimmed with tears, but none fell. "No, you can't leave, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I am. I mean, I have to, you know?"

Ron grasped Harry's shoulder. "You're the hero, remember? You'll be fine."

Harry smiled at Ron's unusal optimism. He got up and headed for the portrait hole.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"I...I need some time to think." He left.

Hermione got up, and Ron grabbed her arm. "Hermione, don't. Harry needs-"

"He needs me, Ron. You and I both know that."

Ron nodded. She was right, and Ron knew the only person Harry opened to and talked to was Hermione. He let her go, and she ran after Harry. Hermione knew he was at the lake, under the same tree he had seen his father, Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew under in the Pensieve. Hermione ran outside, despite the crisp, cold air, and she sprinted across the grounds to Harry.

She found him, leaning against the tree, arms holding his knees. She sat down beside him, and she gently put a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry?"

"Don't, Hermione."

She didn't know what he didn't want her to do, but she went on. "Harry, I know you need to talk, so talk, please."

Harry looked up at her. "I can't lose you again," he said, quietly.

"What do you mean? You've never lost me."

"Yes, I did. Well, almost. In the Department of Mysteries, two years ago. Hermione, I don't want that feeling ever again. I can't...won't...lose you. That's why I have to leave. That's why have to fight Voldemort."

"Harry, I'm right here. You're never going to lose me."

"I love you," he said, abruptly.

Hermione was taken aback. "Wh...what are you talking about?"

"I love you, Hermione," he said, again, this time more slowly.

Hermione cracked a small smile. "I love you, too, Harry."

"Spend the night with me," he said, looking at her. "I want to have one last night with you."

Hermione was surprised by his sudden offer, but she didn't refuse him. "Of course, Harry."

Harry got up, pulled her to her feet, and they walked hand-in-hand back up to the castle.