Pretty to pretend

first the obligatory reminder that i indeed do not own harry potter (other wise my spelling would be better) and that i am simply a pawn in J.K.s well paid hands

~~~~~~~~~~@# I would also like to apologize before hand for any misspelling and such, and im just getting the hang of this posting thing, so in advance... and no, there is no incest... kinda gross, not my thing. (... but what ever floats your boat my freind) thank you for reading

Chapter 2

Hermione sat on the fence out side of her parents house, Ron Weasley sitting on the
ground before her in the grass, legs folded Indian style leaning back on to his elbows
staring up at her as the sun was setting behind her. Hermione was staring off in to the
distance, head tilted to the side as her wavy red brown hair glinted in the failing
sunlight, lips slightly parted thinking about life and what hers really was and could
have been.


Ron was watching her closely, he had noticed a change in his best friend, not only a
change in her but a change in him self as well. Her change was subtle in her personality, in her actions and reactions to things but large enough for Ron to notice, Ron who prided him self as being one of the few people who really knew the real Hermione granger not just the book worm know it all that she presented her self to be at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.


He thought quietly to him self trying not to dwell on the change in him self,
instead attempting to focus on her and what she might need. Still staring off in to the distance Hermione crossed one ankle over the other, bringing Rons attention from her face down over her body, his eyes sliding down, noting how the action made her long pale legs look even longer, her bare feet lean and white with silver nail polish on the toes, dusty from the dirt trail she stood in.


“Ron… Have you ever thought about having children?” She said slowly in a dazed voice still staring off in to the trees across the dirt road from her parents property, barely breathing her long dark hair hanging freely down her back, swaying lightly in the wind, large gold and brown eyes wide and seemingly frozen open as she stared in to nothingness.


Ron sputtered with a reply because he had just been thinking the same thing, maybe not really having kids but defiantly the act of creating them.

“Uh-what do you mean, like one day soon or in the future?” he asked her, guiltily thinking she had been reading his dirty thoughts.


Her attention snapped to him so suddenly and severely that it startled him to stare in to her huge beautiful eyes darker in the twilight than they had been moments before, he hadn’t noticed as his eyes had been trained on other parts of her anatomy.

“Yes... What if you suddenly had kids, what if we had kids, I was pregnant, what would you do? Would you keep them? Would you want to? Would you not want to?”


“Uh-you-I um... I mean yes, I would, I guess. How many are we talking here?” His voice was high and kind of screechy. His eyes were huge and very blue. Stressed. Very stressed.

She ignored his question and went on in her tangent. “Would you be happy, would you keep them really, what reason could you possibly have to not want to?” She pushed her self off of the fence gracefully as she stepped closer to Ron, kneeling down in front of him. Her face was only a foot from his as she stared in to his eyes as if what he was about to say would change every thing for her, as if he had the power to destroy worlds with his thoughts on this one thing.


His Hermione had defiantly changed, something was different, very different with this girl so close to his face, this beautiful girl he loved more than anything else in his life.

He sat up straighter pushing him self on to his hands so he was even closer to her, his blue eyes inches from her dark gold and brown ones. “Hermione,” he started softly. “I would keep them, I would keep anything that I created with you, anything that was yours, because they would be apart of you.” Hermione blinked back tears, that had not been what she was expecting to come from Ron, this Ron, her Ron’s mouth. Her eyes were huge and sorrowful as they filled quickly with tears.


“Ron….?” she leaned down on to her knees, planting them just between his as she brought her hands up to her face and cried in to them. Her shoulders shook and she sobbed openly in to her hands just inches from her best friends face.

“Whoa, ‘Mione, Hermione, what’s wrong?” He reached forward and brought his arms around her pulling her in to his lap so he could hold her close and drop kisses on to the top of her head as she sobbed now against his chest, against his shoulder, her arms around his neck, so tiny in his lap as she cried out her bewilderment and still not understanding why her parents would do it, and at the same time happy that they would.

And the fact that her real parents were who they were, murderers, disgusting and vile.

“Ron, oh god Ron.” she cried harder, wanting to explain to him but afraid to, clutching his neck tighter in her arms.

“Shh, shh it’s ok ‘Mione, don’t cry, you can tell me.” He choked out, fighting for air.

While this was happening, Hermione having her breakdown and Ron dealing with it, Harry Potter, the boy who lived time and time again was walking out of his second best friend’s house to see his two best friends curled up together on the grass, Hermione obviously in distress as Ron tried to calm her down and comfort her to the best of his abilities.

Harry sat down the trey of lemonade he had gotten from Hermione’s mother to sprint across the healthy neet green field that was Hermione’s front lawn jumping the low wooden fence to come down softly, not a foot from the crying Hermione and worried Ron.


He put his hand on her shoulder, his other hand on the side of her head trying to look at her face and see that she was alright.

“Mione, please, are you okay what’s wrong? Tell me love.” Harry looked up in the eyes of Ronald Weasley to see shock there as they stared between the two of them over Hermione’s shaking head as she cried unintelligibly about being adopted.

“Oh god, you guys…” she tried to pull her head back from Ron’s shoulder but just shook
her head and put it back, laying it down with face out to stare in to Harry’s huge concerned bottle green eyes. “Harry, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to think, or how to live this way, knowing what I know, what I am.”
She closed her eyes willing her self the strength to say what she needed to say, because she had to tell him, she had to tell them, they had to know, but what would they do? What would Harry think? If he knew she was the daughter of the thing that killed his god father, if she was the incarnate of these people, the Le’strange‘s.

Which she most definitely was, she had seen the papers, the signatures. Their names.

“Hermione what are you trying to say, what is it, I love you, we love you, you can’t be
anything bad, your perfect, tell me what it is and I’ll continue to tell you the same.”


“Harry.” Hermione pushed her self away from Ron gently, unfolding herself from his lap
to kneel in the dirt before them both, wiping her face free of all tears to tell them
this thing, this one thing that would more than likely destroy their fragile world,
hoping against hope that they would stay, that they would love her none the less.

Harry and Ron stared in to her face, her clear pale perfect face, at her lips, swollen
from crying and being bitten from worrying about their reactions, the light freckles around her brightly lit muddy gold eyes now, dark lashes clumped and darker from her tears.


“I’m adopted.” she whispered it so that they barely heard her, but hear her they did, as they stared at her with shock written across their faces.


“What?” Ron was the first to recover. “Adopted, like… when muggles give their children to strangers?”


Harry leaned forward and stoked her jaw as she stared at him, seeing understanding in his eyes that was lacking in Ron’s’, he was raised by muggles, he knew what this meant, for he too was kind of adopted. “Hermione, that’s not so bad, look at your life I’m sure they had a real reason for not keeping you. The Grangers love you, you are their daughter and always will be.”

Hermione started crying again. She shook her head, biting her bottom lip, eyes huge and boring in to his. “No, Harry that’s not what’s wrong with me… its who they were, who they are…”


“Hermione, what do you mean, that shouldn’t matter.” Harry continued to stroke her cheek, her jaw, smoothing the hair away from her face. "You are who you are, who they are shouldn't change that."


“How do you know who they are, ‘Mione? Who are they that’s so bad?” Rons voice was gentle as he reached out and stroked her long hair down her back.

Hermione didn’t take her eyes off of Harry’s to look at Ron. She stared in to his bright green eyes, so beautiful and loving as she forced her self to say a name, the name, what would have been her name.


“Le’strange.” she whispered. Eyes huge and waiting for the reaction, for the snap that was bound to come when it all connected in Harry’s whirring brain.

His hand froze against her face, his eyes frozen open and lips parting trying to speak, but nothing coming out.


“Le- Le’strange… but that would mean… Hermione, no.” Ron said some where as if in the distance, a thousand miles away from Harry and Hermione, who stared in to each others eyes.


Hermione blinked and Harry dropped his hand, standing up quickly and clearing his throat.

He looked away from the girl sitting in the grass at his feet staring up at him with hurt carved in to her eyes. “Harry, please, say something, look at me, anything, just please…” she reached out a hand and touched his limp one that hung by his side, immediately he ripped it from her grasp as if the touch of her hand had burned him.


She pulled it back to her chest and clasped it between her breasts laying her other hand over it while still looking up at him, now with her mouth hanging open in shock.

She closed it quickly and looked away, realizing that she was right in assuming that this was the way it was going to be. She deserved this for her filthy blood.


Ron sat quietly on the side, watching this all happening before him as if he wasn’t even there. Hermione, who he liked to think of as his Hermione, sat dejectedly before him, having been blown away by Harry’s response to her problem.

Ron reached out to touch her shoulder to get her attention, to tell her that this didn’t matter to him, he loved her more than she would ever know, than he could ever tell her. She looked at him with humiliation in her eyes, broken entirely, begging for something, for him to do anything. He reached his hand up from her shoulder to her face, the same as Harry had done, hoping for the same reaction in her to him doing it as it been when it was Harry. It wasn’t and he knew it, she still looked horrified at her self, at what she was as she stared in to the distance.


Harry finally looked down at her, afraid to see Bellatrix’ staring at him, he searched her face but found nothing in a resemblance of the murdering bitch that had stolen his god father from him. He only saw the beautiful young soft girl before him, his best friend of seven years. The girl he loved. He sighed and crouched down to her again, not as close as before but near her none the less, he ran a hand distractedly though thick black hair, eyes down cast and murky.

“Hermione… Hermione I’m sorry, you know I love you," he paused clearing his throat. "That we love you, it's just a shock, I understand it’s just, well… I’ve got to get going, we’ve got to get back to the Burrow… Mrs. Weasley is waiting for us.”


Hermione nodded her head still not looking at either boy knowing what Harry said was true, but still being hurt by it. They should have left a little while ago.


Ron watched Hermione’s face as she put a pretty convincing mask of aloofness, had he not seen the transition he would have believed it, had he not seen that broken look in her eyes.

Harry put out his hand to help Hermione to stand, she looked at it warily for a moment before grabbing it, glad that he was back to touching her again. She stood up with his assistance, brushing dust off of her knees and the ass of her grey cotton shorts. She was embarrassed that they had seen her in such a state and she didn’t want them to know, refusing to meet either of their eyes, they said their good byes and Hermione watched them walk to the end of the road, Ron turning and waving at the end, but Harry did not turn, stopping only to apperate to the burrow, that loud crack resounding through the air as Hermione turned away to look back at her house. The two story yellow ranch style with 5 bedrooms, sitting beautifully in its own little valley.

She stared at her childhood home for a moment, pondering its beauty. Would she think that it was so beautiful if she had been raised a Le’strange?

She made her way over the low wooden fence and across the front yard pausing to pick up the trey that Harry had left when faced with Hermione’s distress. She sighed and stepped in to the house.

-------------well chappy two is up, i know its been minutes. i really hope you guys liked this one, and please tell me what do you think of the way i put le'strange... should it just be lestrange? thank you thank you for reading my loves
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