these graces that hold me, it's from you that i borrowed

There were few moments in Hermione's life as focused as that moment. Living in the countryside, it wasn't rare for the Nook to be surrounded with the sounds of nature, of birds chirping in the branches of trees and breezes rushing merrily through the tall grasses. If one listened closely, they could often make out the sound of deer hooves against the beaten paths. But none of them registered with Hermione right then, from where she sat at the foot of her bed, hands curled on her lap. Instead, there was a dull pattern that rang against her ears; it took several moments before she realized that it was the pounding of her heart, steady and strong inside her chest.

It was her birthday. Since her birthday fell on a weekday that year, she had insisted to Ron that both of them still go to work for the day, especially considering how they would have the rest of the weekend to celebrate if they wanted, but she had still closed shop a little early in order to get home and prepare herself for dinner that evening. Her mind had been scattered for the entire week, and a vague sense of fatigue lingered that she imagined was a result of her long nights spent poring over notes, and her plans for opening a school in Darrow to serve the much needed gap of instructing those with paranormal interests or abilities. Returning to academia had never been in her plans back home, because the need was elsewhere, in providing the underprivileged with equal rights and protections. In Darrow, the situation was different.

Hermione wanted to work where she was needed most.

But as she picked out her dress for the evening and checked to make sure their reservations were still held by the restaurant, Hermione had felt a wave of dizziness and nausea. And while there was a good chance that stress was responsible for all of it, the feeling had been persistent over the past few days. She'd made an appointment with the clinic to make sure she wasn't suffering from some contagious illness.

She had returned home, instead, with a store-bought test and a faint suggestion to check. Just in case.

The first few seconds after Hermione spotted the second line were numbing. She didn't know how to react; didn't know how to respond. Shock kept her rooted in place, even as her stomach fluttered with dawning realization, and the ground seemed to shift underneath her feet. Having children with Ron had always been part of a distant plan, a detail included when Hermione spoke of her future, five or ten years down the road. But no matter how many times she'd fantasized about that ideal future, it had always remained exactly that, an idea more than a frequent consideration, not to be further explored until the time was right.

Knowing changed everything. Only when Hermione's hand shifted away from the test hastily bought at the store, coming to a rest instead on her own stomach, did it start to sink in. She noticed her vision blurring before she realized that the tears had already started to fall down her cheeks, and it took a few minutes before she was able to calm herself. Happiness, she thought. The sheer force of the incomparable joy she felt pushed out every other emotion, until it was practically overflowing. She didn't know how to process it. All she knew was that she needed Ron home right then so that she could share with him the news.

They were about to start a family.

Not wanting to alarm Ron at the station, Hermione gradually began picking her things up, carefully checking her reflection in the mirror to make sure her eyes weren't red, that she wouldn't give Ron any reason to panic when he Apparated back home. There was nothing to worry about, after all. This was always the life they were meant to have.