Ameortentia - Collection of One-shots

Running Away From The Past (HermionexCharlie)

Hermione;
"Congratulations, Miss Granger! You're pregnant!" Instead of warm feelings of happiness rushing over me, I find the cold chill of regret and mourning taking me over. I stand and leave Mungos without a second look at my healer, my mind racing with thoughts of what the bloody he'll I'm going to tell Ron, and Mrs Weasley... shite- how am I going to explain this to George? How am I going to be able to look at any of the Weasleys without having a breakdown? Without having a screaming match with Ron because I'm pregnant with his brothers baby? Without falling into a depressive episode from looking a George, a face so similar to the one I fell in love with fifth year... How will I be able to look Mrs Weasley in the eyes and tell her that I'm pregnant with her dead sons child, or children, and have her ever look at me the same way again? I'm Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of my age, I'm not supposed to be pregnant at nineteen. I'm not supposed to be carrying my dead boyfriends baby. I'm not supposed to even be alive- If Fred hadn't have taken that wall for me I wouldn't be.

My emotions are all over the place as I twist and apparate to the first place that comes to mind- Fred's grave. Landing in a heaping mess beside his tombstone I break into sobs, talking to his stone like I'm expecting him to talk back. "What am I going to do, Freddy? Ron'll hate me, George'll never understand... your Mum will never want to see me again. I don't know what to do Fred! I can't do this... I can't be pregnant. I can't have a baby without you, I just can't." I'm so caught up in my sob fest I almost don't feel the wind shift around me, or hear the footsteps dangerously close behind me. "You're pregnant?" The voice doesn't belong to Ron, or George, or Mrs Weasley- thank Merlin- but it does belong to a Weasley. "Charlie..." his name is a sob as it falls past my lips, my eyes widening slightly at the sight of the older dragon tamer before me. "You're pregnant." This time it's not a question as he drops down onto the grass beside me and pulls me into a hug and allows me to cry on his shoulder.

"Ron's?" After what feels like an eternity Charlie's soft spoken question fills the cold air around us, his eyes searching mine. "Fred's." I reply quietly, not missing the way his eyes widen or the look of sudden realization that passes over his features. "When they sent the two of you to check the one eyed hag passageway..." I nod my head slowly at him, not expecting him to have put it together that quickly. "We'd both had admitted feelings for each other since my fifth year... then I was on the run with Ron and Harry for so long; When we went to check the passageway we didn't intend for it to happen. One second we were battling death eaters, the next I was against the wall with Fred between my legs... he promised that if we made it out he'd make me his." By the end of my explanation I'm sobbing, my hands clutching at the fabric of my shirt tightly.  "Hermione, you don't have to tell everyone if you don't want to." Charlie offers, my eyes narrow and a growl escapes my throat at the thought of what he might be implying.

He seems to realize what I was thinking because he quickly corrects himself. "I mean- I'll take the blame for it... you'll have to tell George, mind you, because he has a right to know, but the rest of the family? We got a little too drunk during the celebration of the end of the war and we ended up in bed together." I swallow audibly at what he's offering, contemplating the idea. "Charlie I can't ask you to ruin your life for me." "You didn't ask, I offered. It's not going to ruin my life either, if anything it'll give me a shot at a life. Mum'll expect me to do right by you and the baby- eventually I'll ask you to marry me, and the two of us will raise my niece or nephew somewhere away from all the aftermath of the war." I close my eyes and place my hand on top of Fred's grave, slowly nodding my head yes at Charlie. "We better go tell the Family, you're what? Two and a half months along?" "Yes." I allow Charlie to pull me to my feet and apparate us to the Burrow, his eyes narrowing a second after landing.

"You're still safe to do that- right?" "I will be until I hit the three month mark." "Okay." Grabbing my hand Charlie leads me into the sitting room of his childhood home, where the two of us find everyone sitting around the fireplace. Ever since the end of the war everyone's been battling their own demons: Harry's nightmares have gotten worse than ever before, Ron's turned to muggle drugs to get rid of sound of Lavender Browns last screams that plague him at night, Ginny's almost never in the house- She's overworking herself physically on the pitch to the point she's had to be admitted to Mungos twice already. George, well George is more broken than he lets anyone believe, in the dead of night after his silencing charms go up he destroys his and Fred's old bedroom... always repairing everything before his mother wakes the next morning. Percy never sleeps anymore, he blames himself for Fred's death; If he keeps up the way he is the Weasleys will be burying another son before the years over. Charlie only comes home once a month because he can't stand the sight of his siblings- and Bill moved to France and hasn't returned since the war ended.