Into the Wood

Hermione Granger sat up on the dais fiddling with her robes, nervously waiting her turn to speak to the graduating class.

Soon I'll be free! she thought and repeated it to herself as the seconds ticked off. Looking out into the crowd, she saw Harry and Ron. Their hurt faces trained on hers sent a pang of regret and shame throughout her body.

I can't blame them, she told herself. They deserved better than the lies I told them. I just hope one day they will be able to see I had no other choice.

Hermione lowered her head, unable to look into the earnestness etched on their faces. Then she remembered when she had first seen them after the battle. She had stood before them in a filthy robe, shoes, and a wand that were not hers, and clung onto her silence as they had bombarded her with questions.

"Hermione?" Harry asked her, advancing slowly towards her as if she were a wounded animal. "What happened? Where have you been?"

Harry had remained uncharacteristically quiet and unobtrusive with his treatment of her. He asked no questions, and Hermione volunteered no information. The whole thing probably would have been forgotten, if only she had remained the same old Hermione.

However, she was no longer the old Hermione. Her convenient lie had silenced all inquiries about her three-day absence. Besides, everyone had their own personal hell to live with. Not one person who had escaped with their lives was exempt. Reminders were all around. An empty bed, a vacant chair, a hairpin someone had worn who was now dead; all of them ate or starved, slept or bolted awake, screaming from nightmares, worked like machines with no thought for anything but the problem or potion at hand, or stood stiffly...as if petrified...with large, empty eyes that betrayed nothing but terror, gazing into the distance. She was no different.

Hermione smoothed down her Gryffindor commencement robes and felt entirely at peace with her decision. She would continue to keep her secret and continue until the end. It was the best she could do. The girl who never settled for less than perfection had become a woman who accepted to live in the grayness of life and the flaws that came with it.

***

"Hermione Granger!" announced Professor McGonagall.

Hermione walked up to the podium and received her certificate. She was now officially a graduate. After Harry, Ron, Neville, Draco...all of those who were of the class of 1998...had received their own certificates, she stood from her seat on the dais, which had been especially set aside for her as the highest ranking student Hogwarts had seen in many a year.

She had remained quite still during the entire ceremony, wedged between Hagrid and Professor Snape. She had managed the last five months to keep her distance from the wizard who had resented her very existence for whatever reason since the very first day she had sat in his first-year's Potions class. She easily was able to keep her side from touching him this day. Hagrid never minded closeness. After all, he was already bawling buckets of tears for Hermione, Harry, and Ron. Hermione just kept a calm hand steady on his huge arm to comfort him. Leaning over into him helped her mask her need to keep a physical and mental distance between herself and the malicious wizard.

When her name had been announced, she stood up, walked to the center of the stage, and began her speech by casting a Sonorous Charm on her throat. First, she gave her platitudes of thanks and kindness towards the present dignitaries and her professors before launching into her address:

"Now has come the time to shrug off this husk of childhood. Many of us already feel as if we completed this task after fighting in a war. That may be true enough, but after the dust had settled, and our friends had been buried along with our grief and tears, we still had Hogwarts to draw us in like a mother with its large turrets and strong walls, waiting to envelop us with soft four-poster beds, clean sheets, and hot cocoa.

"This is no longer an option. We are now prepared to delve into this magical world to search and find our fortunes while others, like myself, who were not raised within the magical community are only beginning to appreciate this new world and will with eyes wide open see all the possibilities that lay before us.

"It is a sad and frightening prospect to leave the comforts of a place we have called home for so long, but our fear is only of what we cannot name. The joys and the gifts that are ours for the giving and the taking are just within our grasp.

"Do not weep for what might have been; rather, if you must weep, weep for the loss of what once had been, but is no more. Then, when the tears have ceased, smile for what you have survived and accomplished. That will be a legacy no one can ever steal from you. The willful choices of youth, the follies, and rash decisions with their consequences need no repeating. However, never should we forget the lessons learned, for we are starting a new life. Refuse to turn backward to childish things. It is the dawning of a new day, so let us leave what encumbers us behind and strive for the future. It is, after all, what you will make of it."

Hermione sat down after a moment had passed. Some wept openly, wiping their faces at the words she had spoken. But Hermione had no tears left. She had shed too many.

After the ceremony ended, Hermione hurried to leave. Unfortunately, a solid wall of black halted her progress.

"Miss Granger, your choice of words was rather cryptic. I was almost persuaded to believe you were speaking of the war, but there was a tenor in your voice that piqued my curiosity. Your words held multiple meanings, did they not?"

Hermione looked first at his buttons; then her eyes roved over the billowing material on his shoulders and arms. She finally settled her eyes on his black hair and wondered if he had ever cared enough to give a damn about it.

She heard his voice, his words, and decided not to answer. Instead, when she spoke, her voice was calm and resigned. "Goodbye, Professor Snape. You will never have to worry about my presence or questions in your dungeons ever again."

She turned and walked away where Neville, Luna, and his Gran were waiting for her.

Neville looked extremely nervous, just as he had in his first year. "Damn it, Hermione, what did that beast want?" he hissed.

Hermione lowered her head, but kept her eyes alert. "He found my speech amusing, with hidden meanings. I never doubted he would wonder. But it is finally finished, and I am so very tired," she whispered with a sigh.

"Of course you are, Hermione, dear," said Augusta Longbottom as she took the younger witch's arm into her own. "I think we should just leave now, don't you think, Neville?"

"Certainly," he replied. "Luna, are you prepared?"

"Oh, yes. I am rather excited by this prospect, really. It will be such an amazing experience."

Hermione managed to smile weakly before Mrs. Longbottom ushered them outside, looking obviously irritated by the words of her future granddaughter-in-law.

Before she lost sight of the Great Hall, she caught sight of Ron and Harry. She waved to them, and they waved sadly in return. Hermione felt so sorry for them, but she couldn't help it. As far as the wizarding world would know, she was embarking on a yearlong vacation to Australia to see her parents. Neville and Luna were joining her as a trial run for their engagement, with Hermione acting as chaperone...at least that was the plan so far. There were still some decisions that had to be made. As the four of them walked out the main gate towards the Apparition point, Hermione reflected on all that had occurred in the last week.

***

"It's ridiculous!" Ron bellowed. "We are your best mates; we should be going!"

"I promise," she whispered.

***

Hermione sat in Augusta's sitting room with her legs propped up and her back reclined. It was an odd house, much more stifling than the Weasleys', who always had someone coming in and out of the door. Augusta Longbottom was a woman of great values and ideals that kept her proud and upright. She expected nothing less of those in her charge. Neville, poor hen-pecked boy he was, had grown into a formidable wizard. Augusta finally approved of her grandson after his glorious triumph in battle, facing and slaughtering three Death Eaters in one fell swoop. He had led the charge to push forward when nearly every Gryffindor had desperately wanted to retreat. He had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Augusta had wept with joy.

Hermione remembered that day as she watched the proud witch fuss about her sitting room. It struck Hermione that Augusta DID cry...and legend said Augusta Longbottom never cried. She hadn't cried when her son, Frank, and his wife, Alice, had been declared mentally insane, nor had she cried when Bellatrix Lestrange taunted the old witch during her trial for casting the Cruciatus Curse that had destroyed her son's and daughter-in-law's minds. Augusta was like a piece of granite, unable to neither move nor manipulate. Hermione gazed at her in wonder. How she wished she could be as strong.

When Neville had soberly received his medal, she had burst into sobs, her vulture hat shaking as she clutched her white lace handkerchief in her hand to cover her weeping. After the ceremony had ended, she had flung her arms around her grandson and wept openly, declaring Neville was as good a man as his father had been, and she never had been prouder.

"Are you comfortable, Hermione, dear?" Augusta asked Hermione.

Hermione was dragged from her thoughts as the older witch spoke to her. She gazed at the older woman, her back straight and proud as she stood before her guest with regal grace.

"Oh, quite well," she replied. "I hope I'm not too much of a bother."

"No, no, Hermione," Neville said in haste. "Now, we really must hash out the plan so everyone knows what stories to tell when asked."

Hermione looked at Neville. How considerate he was to make her feel as if she hadn't turned their lives upside down. His gracious manners never ceased to amaze her.

Hermione recovered from her wool-gathering to allay his concerns. "Of course, Neville. What are your thoughts?"

"I will sometime, I'm sure, bump into Harry or Ron, or one of the Weasleys, and explain that my Gran just can't care for Uncle Algie like she used to, so I had to stay behind, but that Luna went ahead with the trip as we had planned," he said. "I've thought about it, and if you have the baby in Australia, that's just not going to work. Ron and Harry would want to see her, and then there is all that paperwork for long-distance Apparition. What if we all stay, pass Luna as pregnant, and hide you here? After the baby is born, then you can go to Australia. I don't reckon your parents would be too keen seeing their daughter pregnant and then giving away their only grandchild. So, how does that sound?"

"I think it is a sensible idea, Neville. Hermione and I will stay hidden until the time comes," said Luna. "Hermione, how much longer is it now?"

Hermione hadn't thought of it. She tried very hard to not think about it at all. When she did, it all came rushing back in flashes. She remembered her capture, and the three horrible days she had spent as a prisoner in the dead of winter and the start of a new year: January. What a wretched time to have been a prisoner! If the freezing cold wouldn't kill her, her captors would, she had been positive. Then, after her miraculous escape, as the final battle had commenced, she had done her utmost to fight in the war and had passed off her injuries as only war wounds. There had been so much chaos, so much death and blood no one tried to examine her fully. She had escaped the infirmary as quickly as she could and had thrown herself into her studies to avoid intrusive questions about her three-day disappearance. Harry and Ron had been pretty beaten up as well, with their own war wounds tormenting their bodies and minds. But they had made it. They all had survived, and that was what mattered the most. The boys had tried to talk to her about the days she had been missing. The entire Order had been terrified, they had told her. She said she had found herself in a dicey situation with Greyback and had to stay where she was until the pack moved on from their hiding place. Both boys had breathed a sigh of relief, as had Hermione. It had been a horrible time to start the New Year...a POW...but she had survived.

She drew a sharp breath and shook herself free from her thoughts, and replied, "I'm at the end of my sixth month or round about. I have it somewhere so I wouldn't have to keep calculating it in my mind," she explained as she rifled through her rucksack.

"Here it is," she said with relief as she took out a piece of parchment. "According to my calculations, my due date is the second of October."

Augusta tapped her chin thoughtfully as she slowly paced the floor. "Well, at least it won't be an interminable length of time. You are more than half done, thank Merlin."

Hermione rested her head back as they all spoke around her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear the chattering of details, and the memories of how her life had spiraled so quickly out of control and had changed forever.

***

Around Valentine's Day, Hermione's noticed her breasts were growing tender. She had been in the shower and winced when her washcloth dragged across her nipples. They were painful to the touch. She looked out for the rest of the girls to leave and came out to face herself in the mirror. She turned sideways and touched the swell and heaviness of them.

It must be my monthly, she had thought and dismissed the oddity away.

She told herself it was nerves. Of course! she rationalized. The war! This eased her mind. When her period had not arrived at the end of January, she had been petrified. She still felt a nagging sense of unease.

Okay, so I'm stressed! she thought. But what about that stone you've gained? It happens, maybe I need to eat less and workout more.

No, her mind butted in. You've not been eating enough to keep a baby bird alive.

Bugger off!

Hermione quickly calculated in her head the figures. Merlin! I'm already in my second trimester. Fifteen weeks? What am I going to do?

Luna hugged her and whispered, "You were terrified for your life, and you thought you were going to die. Then a teacher, a wizard who has never had a kind word for you, appears, and he rapes you. They subjected you to hearing that this wizard, whom we've never thought of as a man, had sex with a willing witch in public. They wanted you to feel humiliated. They deprived you of your sense of sight, and brutally tortured and beat you. Still, you managed to come back to us. You came back and you fought...you fought in the battle! You are a true Gryffindor. You are brave, Hermione. And you won't have to live through this alone..."

***

Hermione was brought back to the present with Neville calling her name. "Hermione, we need your answer."

"I'm sorry, I'm just so tired," she whispered.

"Well, we need to have this all sorted and have a solid plan," snapped Mrs. Longbottom. "I think that Luna should stay with you here and have people see her at least once, very pregnant."

"Why?" asked Hermione.

"Think of how it will look, Hermione," Luna told her. "Neville is staying here. I can't just come back into England with a baby and no one the wiser. It would look very suspicious, like someone was trying to hide something. Then, there would be the question of why wasn't Neville with me. It just makes more sense this way. Neville and I will get married just before the birth, and then it will never be up for discussion as to the baby's parentage."

"You'd all have better start thinking about how that child is going to come out!" Mrs. Longbottom reminded them. "Brown hair, brown eyes, bushy hair can all be explained away by my Neville's hair and eye color and Luna's loose curly hair. A cousin can be made up that had bushy, curly hair, and it will pass. But what if it comes out with black hair, black eyes, and pale skin? You're all just lucky it's a girl and not a boy!" She sat down wearily in her chair. "Lord, help me. A boy could come out the spit of his father! Thank goodness we won't have that to consider. Although you never know with genetics, and Severus' features are so dominant...we may have to consider glamors, you realize, if worst comes to worst."

"How are we going to pull this off? Honestly, it was a superb idea when Luna came to you and Neville. I was so desperate...but how are we in reality going to do this?" Hermione panicked.

Augusta Longbottom stood up from her chair and held her back straight and tall. "Now, you listen, Hermione Granger. You have served the Order well. You never gave in, even when they tortured and humiliated you, you came back to fight in the final battle. You have given your all, and you will give once more."

She leaned over Hermione and continued, her eyes blazing. "You are going to suffer, oh, yes, my girl, you will suffer. You will carry this child to the bitter end, and when the time comes, you will give birth. You will hurt as you have never hurt in your life, but you will take it. Why? Because it will be the most productive day in your life. The hardest day's work for you will be pushing that child out of your womb and giving her life.

"You then will heal. You'll go and heal your body, heart, and mind. You will make something of yourself and use your mind to be someone great in our world. You will find a man one day who will understand what choices you had to make, and he will forgive you for giving away your only child. Then, if God is kind to you, he will give you another to soothe your empty heart. And it will be empty. None of this will be easy. Luna will carry the stigma of getting pregnant before marriage. She and Neville will have to live meager lives so your child can live safely and securely. None of this will be easy, but it must be done, unless you want to explain to Severus Snape about your condition."

Hermione shook her head violently. There was no way she could do that. Never.

Augusta straightened her back. "Severus Snape has suffered. You know that. We all were aware of the trials and the humiliations he suffered. All of those evil cretins were thrown into Azkaban for their heinous crimes! One thing Severus Snape has been able to do is hold his head up high because he never tortured or violated anyone. Don't you recall those poor women and men crying in the witness chair, telling all and sundry the shameful things inflicted on them? Do you want that? You would crush the man if he knew it had been you. As it is, he already knows in his soul that somewhere dead or alive, some unfortunate girl was violated by him. But he can be spared being branded a rapist. Can you do that for him at least, for all the sufferings he endured for all of us?"

Hermione nodded. She wiped her tears and agreed with the plan. As soon as she could stand after giving birth, she would Floo to Xenophilius Lovegood's house and convalesce there with Augusta standing by to aid her. Neville and Luna would remain at the Longbottom house and begin their life with their new daughter.

"What will you name her?" whispered Hermione to Luna.

"We thought Alice Hermione," she said, her eyes glazed over in happiness.

Then Hermione began to cry.

***

A/N: Thanks to my beta, karelia, for her hard work and to beaweasley and Braye for the cheerleading! Please review. I live for reviews! :)