One More Time

*

“Where is he?!” a voice exploded from the entrance hall.

Hermione heard Georgiana attempting to stop the two men that were pushing their way in.

“Stay here,” she told Blaise and got up from the table, heading into the sitting room.

She stood near the couch and waited. There were sounds of muffled curses before she saw Harry and Ron emerge from the front hall, Georgiana trailing after them, looking flustered.

“Ms. Granger,” she said pleadingly, “they won’t listen—“

“Hermione!” Ron interrupted the maid as he came to a sudden stop, so sudden that Harry nearly ran into him. He was staring at her, his eyes immediately drawn to her stomach, that was for once not hidden by long coats and overlarge sweaters.

Harry stared at Hermione, then his eyes narrowed as he turned to sweep the room, searching for Blaise, Hermione knew.

Ron continued to stare at Hermione as she stood there. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious. “Yes, Ron?”

“Hermione, it— you—you’re…” He was gesturing wildly at her stomach and was left to mouth wordlessly. Beside him, even Harry didn’t appear to know what to say.

“What, Ron?” Hermione asked, daring him to say something idiotic.

“Pregnant!” he exclaimed finally and Harry nodded his head fervently.

Hermione grimaced. “Yes,” she admitted.

“When did this happen?!” Ron asked.

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Sometimes, he could be so dense. “About seven and a half months ago,” she said coolly.

“But you didn’t tell us,” Harry said, finally speaking. He appeared almost hurt.

It hurt Hermione to see Harry looking so betrayed. She’d been afraid this might happen. She made a movement as though meaning to move closer, but stayed where she was. “I was afraid of what you would think,” she said, her eyes pleading with him.

Harry shook his head, but Ron didn’t seem to be listening.

“Where is he?” he demanded. “Where is the bastard? I told you he was bad news, Hermione!”

“Ron,” Hermione said, reluctantly tearing her eyes from Harry, who had fallen silent. “I hope you didn’t come here intending to hurt him.”

“And why not?” Ron asked, glaring around the room like Blaise might be hiding behind a chair.

“Because you don’t know the whole story,” she said exasperatedly.

“I don’t need it!” Ron exclaimed. “All I need is my wand and him, so where the hell is he?!”

Hermione groaned to herself. She had known this would happen. “He’s not he—“ she started to say, but at that moment, the doors to the dining room swung open and Blaise strode out. Hermione glared at him.

“Weasley, Potter,” Blaise said casually, coming next to Hermione.

Both Ron and Harry’s eyes narrowed. Hermione sent Blaise a warning look. Blaise had his wand in his hand, but it was held at his side loosely.

“You bastard,” Ron growled. “How could you do this to Hermione?”

“She wasn’t exactly unwilling,” Blaise said, giving Ron a disdainful look.

“Blaise!” Hermione hissed. She turned to Ron. “That’s not true.”

“So you forced her to?” Ron demanded. “I knew it! Harry, he’s evil.”

Harry’s gaze was on Blaise, his expression full of dislike. Ron had his wand gripped tightly in his hand and was glaring at Blaise.

“No,” Hermione said quickly, pushing Blaise’s wand out of the way as he went to raise it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean, Hermione?” Harry asked, still glaring at Blaise. “I thought you were done with him. I knew he was hanging around, but not to this extent! You’re pregnant with his child. Do you deny it?” His gaze flickered to Hermione for a second. She appeared flustered.

“Well, no, but—“

“Then you’re still involved. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I…” Hermione said, glancing at Blaise, who was also waiting for the answer. “I knew you didn’t like him, and I didn’t either at the time so I thought if I told you, this would happen!”

“You were right,” Ron said angrily, his wand still on Blaise. “Come on, Hermione, let me have a go at him. He’s to blame, right?”

“Oh yes, Weasley, it only takes one person to make a child, or haven’t you learned about the birds and the bees yet?” Blaise drawled sarcastically.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second. Blaise was not helping the situation. She could see Ron’s face growing redder the longer he stood glaring at Blaise.

“That’s it!” Ron yelled. “I’m gonna kill him, I will!”

“Ron, you can’t!” Hermione said, as he lunged forward but, luckily, Harry grabbed onto the back of his robes.

“Harry, let go!” Ron shouted, struggling against Harry, who appeared to be reconsidering his decision to stop Ron.

“Stop,” Hermione said, glancing at Blaise, who merely looked annoyed. “You can’t kill him.”

“Why not?!” Ron yelled. “Harry! Stop it!” He tugged the edge of his robe and got a few inches loose as Harry’s grip loosened.

“Be-because,” Hermione stuttered.

“Come on, Hermione! I will! It’ll be so much easier without him! You can live with my mum. She’ll take care of you!”

“I don’t want to live with your mum,” Hermione said, frustrated. She could tell Harry was nearly on the verge of letting Ron go and she wasn’t positive Blaise could win against Harry and Ron.

“Well, why can’t I kill him?” Ron demanded. “Tell me why!”

“I—“ Hermione said, looking from Ron to Blaise to Harry. She felt trapped. They wanted an answer. “Be-because…”

“Why?!” Ron yelled, ripping his robes finally from Harry’s slackened grip and Harry barely realized before seizing the edge again.

“Be-because I love him!”

A ringing silence followed Hermione’s words. Ron stopped struggling, not even realizing that Harry had dropped the robes and was staring at Hermione.

Even Blaise was staring at her. His wand had dropped to his side and it fell with a clatter to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Ron said after a moment. “I think I blacked out for a second. What did you say?”

Hermione was turning a bright shade of red as she avoided everyone eye. Realizing just how true her statement was, she didn’t want to see their reactions. Harry’s would be one of disbelief and disappointment, Ron’s of anger and Blaise… she didn’t even know what he would say.

“Hermione,” she heard Blaise’s voice and glanced up. “Are you serious?”

She was beginning to feel embarrassed with everyone looking at her. Blaise was staring at her, a jumble of expressions on his face. “Yes,” she mumbled quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Her rambling apology was cut off as Blaise moved swiftly toward her and pulled her into a hard kiss. She heard Ron’s groan but wasn’t paying attention. She could only feel Blaise’s arms around her and his lips on hers.

“I don’t want to see that,” Ron moaned, turning away from the sight. Harry was watching with a curious expression.

Blaise and Hermione broke apart after a few seconds. Staring up into his eyes, Hermione searched his face. “What does that mean?” she whispered.

“Hermione,” Blaise said, “I love you too.” Hermione broke into a smile as he kissed her again. “I was an idiot,” he continued.

“Got that right,” Ron muttered loudly.

Blaise ignored him. “I listened to my mother and broke up with you because I thought you’d be better off. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I should have listened to myself, not her. That’s why I didn’t stop coming back.”

Hermione looked at him for a second then kissed him on the cheek. “It’s okay.”

“No, it bloody well is not!” Ron exclaimed and Hermione and Blaise finally looked at him. “Hermione, how can you love him? He’s an evil Slytherin prat! When you broke up you, you cried for months!”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed.

“Months?” Blaise asked.

“Now you’re just gonna take him back like nothing changed?”

“Things have changed,” Hermione said. “For one, I’m pregnant and I’m pretty sure that’s not going to change, not for another two months at least.”

Ron opened his mouth to argue more, but Harry interrupted. “Ron, she made her decision. Let’s go.”

Hermione watched helplessly as Harry turned and started to walk back to the front door. After a long glare at Blaise, Ron stormed after him.

“Harry!” she called, hurrying after him. She didn’t want him to leave angry with her. She caught up to him at the door. Ron had already left. “Harry, please, don’t be angry. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

She waited anxiously as he stood at the door, hovering between leaving and staying. Snow was blowing through the open door.

He was silent for an inordinately long period of time. “You could have told me,” he said finally.

“I was worried,” she said honestly. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed,” Harry sighed. “I just wish you could have told me, not Rita Skeeter.”

Hermione looked ashamed and Harry sighed again. “Listen, don’t worry. Now we all know. I’ll tell Padma.”

“Uh,” Hermione said. “Actually, Padma knows.”

“She does?” Harry asked. “No wonder she’s been acting funny when I ask about you.”

Hermione laughed slightly and watched Harry apprehensively. “So you’re not mad?”

Harry paused. “No,” he said finally. “Just don’t keep anymore secrets.”

“I won’t,” she agreed quickly. “I promise.”

Harry smiled and opened the door wider. “Wish me luck,” he said as he stepped out.

“Why?” Hermione said, stepping in the doorway.

“I’m asking Padma tonight,” Harry said with a grin, then he Disapparated from the porch.

Hermione closed the door, a smile on her face, and returned slowly to the sitting room where Blaise had sat down on the couch. She joined him, secretly celebrating when he slid his arm around her shoulders.

“I take it he’s not as upset as Weasley?”

“Not quite,” she replied.

“Well, it’s all in the open now.”

“Actually, my parents still don’t know,” Hermione said slowly. At the look from Blaise, she added. “But I’ll tell them soon, promise.”

He nodded his head and pulled her closer. Together, they settled in to watch the snow flutter past the window. Hermione felt as though things were finally coming together.

**

True to her word, Hermione went to her parent’s house the next week. She had called ahead and sort of invited herself to afternoon tea. So, bundled in a scarf and coat, she took a taxi to their house, late in the month of November.

Her mother and father greeted her at the door warmly. She was sure the atmosphere would soon become less warm as she told them what she had to.

“Hermione,” her mother said, “let me take your coat.”

“Oh, um, alright,” Hermione said awkwardly, turning around and taking it off. She handed it to her mother, who put it in a closet, not noticing that her husband was staring at their daughter.

When she turned around, she caught sight of John, staring at Hermione.

“John, what are you—“ She turned then and caught sight of what he was looking at. “Hermione,” she breathed. “Are you…?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said evasively, leading the way into the sitting room. Her parents trailed behind her, hastily whispering to each other.

“Who did this?” her dad asked immediately once they reached the other room.

“Now, dad,” Hermione said slowly. “You should know that everything is under control. All the details have been worked out and there’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Who?” her father persisted.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. Finally, deciding there was no good way, she sighed and looked up. “Blaise.”

Her parents were silent and she could see them trying to remember who he was.

“The man we met almost two years ago?” her mother finally asked.

“Yes.”

“The bloke who broke up with you?” her dad asked.

“Yes.”

“But then how…” her father said, and she could see him trying to work it out.

“It’s not important,” she said quickly. “What matters is that he and I have worked things out. We’re back together now.” She paused and waited for their reactions, biting her lip.

Both of them looked flabbergasted. She knew it wasn’t what they had expected or wanted for their daughter, the perfect student, successful Ministry worker.

“Mum,” she said after several minutes of silence. “Please say something.”

Her mother appeared to be coming out of a trance as she looked at her daughter. “Hermione, I… Well, I didn’t expect this when you said you wanted to come over today.” She gave her an imploring look. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

Hermione looked away, feeling ashamed. She supposed she ought to have known that people would be more accepting. They loved her, after all.

“I just didn’t want you to think I was irresponsible,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“He’s taken responsibility?” her father asked suddenly. “This Blaise character?”

Hermione was surprised by this question. “Yes, he has.”

“Are you getting married?”

“We haven’t discussed it,” she said slowly. “Dad, we’re not worried about that yet. We’re going to start with the baby and work on it. It’s all going to be fine.”

Her father said nothing and her mother stepped in. “Hermione, I can’t say I’m happy but you know I’ve always wanted grandchildren.”

Hermione was surprised when she hugged her. “I know you didn’t want them this way, but Blaise and I are finally happy. We figured it out.”

“Well, that’s good,” Mrs. Granger said, sniffing. “Because if he wasn’t treating you well, I’d have to come show him how you deserve to be treated.

Hermione laughed. “I don’t think it’d do much good. He can do magic, you see.”

“Yes, well, I’m still your mother, and he should fear that.”

“He will,” Hermione said, feeling much better than she had in a long time.

*