Author's Note: This prompt was graciously borrowed from Cheryk in the Harmony & Co Facebook group. Thank you again to the fabulous Mrs. Ren, without whom this ship would have sunk months ago. Secondly, there are several warnings: Mentions of spousal abuse, miscarriage, and the dirtiest words of all: "Ron Weasley". You have been forewarned. All rights belong to her Majesty of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling. Enjoy the story!
The room was dark and Hermione Weasley neé Granger was thankful. The headache she had would rival that of the Dementor's Kiss. She lay half curled in the single bed in the private antenatal ward of St Mungo's. She raised her hand, her fingers still trembling as she struggled to wipe the salty tears that slid down her cheeks. She had miscarried again, for the third time. But this time, she knew what fate awaited her.
According to a ridiculous antiquated law, if a woman had failed to provide an heir in five years of marriage, her partner could legally divorce her and throw her out. Compared to the sham of a marriage she was in now, it sounded like paradise for her. For once she was thankful to be alone, because she couldn't stand the thought of another snide comment from her mother-in-law. The last remark of, "Oh, you could give me plenty of grandbabies if you'd work less, my dear," rattled about in her head like a loose Cornish pixie.
Her hand flitted to her stomach subconsciously to rub the once soft swell. When she realised what she was doing, a fresh wave of tears slid unbridled down her hollow cheeks.
A light rap at the door made her pause. Hermione wiped her cheeks, her breathing strained as she attempted to pull herself together the best she could.
"Come in," she rasped.
Senior Healer Pansy Parkinson crossed the threshold, closing the door behind her. She stopped at the foot of the bed, flicking her wand lightly at Hermione to run the diagnostic spells.
"Mrs Weasl—"
"Please, call me Hermione, Pansy. We've been friends for almost two years now," the brunette chided gently.
At this, the raven-haired woman lightly blushed, but nodded in agreement.
"Besides, I was never truly a Weasley," Hermione added sadly.
"Is he here?" Hermione asked, bottom lip quivering.
Pansy looked anywhere but here before softly replying, "I'm so sorry."
She sucked in a breath. "That answers that then."