Interlude. Sunday Tea.

For Hermione Granger, Sundays were always spent at the Borrow. Always. Even if she had better things to do, she dared not complain for family was very important to her husband-to-be. The Weasley clan was loud and big and fierce, and she loved them all dearly, but right now she was quietly raging against the lot.

Though the conversation had been brief, yesterday had been eye opening. She had been kept from the truth for six years, but she highly doubted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been left in the dark concerning their daughter’s condition. Ronald obviously knew some version of the story, and Hermione didn’t fault him for keeping his sister’s secret, but she wasn’t particularly pleased with his handling of Harry. This family had tightened ranks, banded together, and thrown their pseudo-son to the wolves without a second thought.

Hermione Granger wouldn’t have it.

Looking around the cosey living room, she quickly eyed each cup of tea. Most of the Weasleys had at least had half their respective cups as they bantered back and forth. Excellent. Setting her cup down sharply, Hermione cleared her throat and turned her cold gaze on her target.

“Gin, I heard some rather eye-opening information yesterday,” she said nonchalantly. Ignoring Ron’s puzzled gaze, she gave Ginny a politely icy smile and continued, “I heard you were pregnant when you broke up with Harry.”

“Hermione,” Ron warned as the room stilled, all eyes on her.

Ginny flushed, her eyes hardening as she notched her chin up a little higher. “I was. Unfortunately, Harry atta-”

“Who was the father?” Hermione interrupted.

“Harry-”

“Dean Thomas.” Ginny slapped her hand over her mouth, gasping in shock.

Hermione’s smile turned wicked. “You’ve all been drinking tea laced with veritaserum.” Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “Ginny, you were about to say that Harry attacked you, weren’t you? But what really happened?”

Ginny’s eyes bristled with tears. “He was angry, but he never touched me. He told me that he only ever went out with me because he felt he had to, that it was expected of him, but that we were now free of each other because I never was, nor ever could be, his mate.”

“Because you carried another man’s child?” Hermione asked.

“Because he already knew who it was, and it wasn’t me.”

“Do you know who it is?”

Ginny shook her head. “He wouldn’t say.”

“What really happened to the baby, Gin?” Ron asked quietly, his eyes filled with angry tears. “If Harry never attacked you, then that couldn’t have caused the miscarriage.”

Ginny held her mouth shut, fighting against the veritaserum.

“ANSWER THE QUESTION, GINERVA!” Mrs. Weasley ordered from across the room, her hands gripping her needlework so tightly they shook.

“I took a potion,” Ginny spat, breathing heavily. The room broke into an uproar, people shouted, questions and accusations were thrown about.

“SILENCE!” Hermione ordered as she stood and looked about the room. “Did anyone know the truth of this?”

She was answered with naught but denial.

“He was a son to you,” Hermione said quietly to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, her eyes filling with tears. She turned to the Weasley brothers, “a brother to you, and yet you all abandoned him without a second thought.” She shook her head. “I am not blameless in this either, and I am ashamed of myself for that. Tell yourselves whatever justifications you need to, but I won’t anymore.”

She looked directly at Ron, then. “I love you, Ronald Weasley, but right now, I cannot marry you.”

“But-” Ron jumped up, reaching out for her, but his hands grasped thin air as she apparated away.