Sweet Child of Mine

HavaBisqitPotter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 03/08/2004
Last Updated: 21/07/2006
Status: completed

To his friends, Harry Potter died eight years ago. But when he returns suddenly, he finds that things have changed... drastically. Now, he must win back the woman he loves... before it's too late. (First fic, please R/R)

Chapters

1. Saved the Best for Last

2. And I Love Her

3. Crash

4. Ordinary

5. She

6. Changes

7. Paradise

8. Behind Blue Eyes

9. I'm Going Slightly Mad

10. Excuses

11. Only the Lonely

12. Brand New Day

13. Cannonball

14. Back to the Start

15. Cheers, Darlin'

16. Breathing

17. Beautiful Disaster

18. Listen to Your Heart

19. Cry

20. Green Eyes

21. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

22. Author's Note

1. Saved the Best for Last

Sweet Child of Mine

HavaBisqitPotter

Summer 2004

TAGLINE: In the end, it all comes down to who’s by your side...

SUMMARY: To his friends, Harry Potter died eight years ago. But when he returns suddenly, he finds that things have changed... Drastically. Now, he must win back the woman he loves and gain back her trust... Before it’s too late.

RATING: PG-13 for adult situations, adult language, innuendo, and alcohol content... Oh... And for my mother’s fluff chapters.

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER and all related names and indicia are J.K. Rowling’s. In other words, I don’t own it, so you’d be wasting your time suing. I also ask that you please do not stalk Daniel Radcliffe. (That’s my job.) Espío tu hijo. ¿Dónde esta el? (You should know, but if you don’t, I’d look it up.)

A/N: Special thanks to my mother (also my beta) who helped me develop this little fluffy plot bunny into something deeper. (Good fajitas do bad things to the mind...) Oh,

and this is also my first HP fic, so please be brutally honest. I honestly want to know

what you think. Keep in mind that the last part (it’s italicized) is a flashback. That said, enjoy!

~~Harry~~

Chapter One

Saved the Best for Last

“And now we’re standing face to face

Isn’t this world a crazy place

Just when I thought our last chance had passed

You go and save the best for last”

‘Saved the Best for Last’

—Vanessa Williams

I never wanted to leave her. Never. Not once in our relationship did I want to leave her. In all honesty, I had planned to come back and marry her. My mistake was not coming back.

There were all kinds of excuses; The Death Eaters were still abroad... I needed to find myself... I needed to get my head on straight... It just escalated and grew until BAM! Eight years had gone by and I was still joyriding. But now I know it’s time. I’m going home. I figure Ginny Weasley’s engagement party is a good enough excuse.

It’s been eight years. I shouldn’t expect her to be waiting for me. She’s probably moved on. She’s probably married to someone brilliant like herself and is busy developing a counter curse for something or other... but I can’t help but see that tiny little glimmer of hope shining off in the distance. Maybe she still loves me...

I stand outside of the pub that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan started after Hogwarts. The Snitch’s theme is (naturally) ‘Quidditch Through the Ages’ and there is an entire wall dedicated to me, supposedly the greatest seeker that ever lived. I only wish I still had all of my reflexes.

Seeing Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, hands entwined, the diamond ring on her left hand glistening, brings back so many memories... A little red headed girl on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters... A slick haired boy in Madame Malkin’s... That same girl (only not so little, and not so red headed) clutching the boy’s neck almost seven years later... whoever would have thought that Ginny Weasley could change Draco Malfoy?

Ginny runs her free hand (her left—done on purpose, I’m sure) through her hair and shakes her head, laughing. She doubles back to me and her smile fades into a look of confusion. She nudges Draco and points to me. “Harry... What... You’re supposed to be dead!” She crosses over to me and puts her hands on her hips.

There is a moment of shocked silence and then a collective gasp from everyone in the pub. The bartender doesn’t seem to realize that the glass he was filling with Firewhiskey is running over. Every eye is on me.

“Err...” I shrug and shove my hands into my pockets. “Well... I’m alive!” I attempt to joke. She’s not smiling. “Err... Surprise?” I look around nervously. You could hear a pin drop.

Ginny scoffs, turns on her heel, and storms back over to Draco.

The crowd seems to take this as a go ahead. They flock to me. People reaching for my arms and legs... People screaming for autographs and girls just plain screaming... Two very pregnant women push through the crowd to me. “I’m pregnant and I’m mean!” One of them snaps.

“Harry!” They fuss, one of them pulling my hair away from my forehead to see the scar.

I brush her hand away. I hate people touching it. Only Hermione... “I wouldn’t try that... if... Wait a bloody minute...” I realize whose hand I have grabbed. “Lav... Lavender Brown! Well, bloody hell! How have you been?”

She laughs and I embrace her. “Well, Dean and I are getting on.” She sighs and pats her stomach. “This will be our third.”

“That’s great, Lav! I’m really happy for you.” She gets pushed away by her pregnant friend.

“Quit hogging him, Lavender!”

Parvati Patil has wound her arms around my neck. “We’ve missed you so, Harry.”

Seamus appears at her side. “Now, Parvati, don’t lie to him!” He winks at me and Parvati hits him on the arm. “I was only kidding. It hasn’t been the same without you here, mate.” He shakes my hand and turns his head to Draco and Ginny.

She’s stamping her foot and pointing her finger at me. Her ears have gone red and her eyes flash dangerously. “Uh-oh...” Seamus sighs. “Dean, break out the hose. Looks like we’re going to need to cool Ginny off.”

Draco vehemently shakes his head and Ginny strides over to the bar. I watch her down a shot of... something and motion for another.

I am quite aware of the crowd pressing in on us now. “Uhh... Seamus, Dean... Is there somewhere that we can go talk? I mean, we’re attracting quite a crowd.”

Seamus nods. “Let’s go open a room, love,” he says to Parvati, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Dean and Lavender will show you back, Harry.” They take off. I crane my neck looking for her... She has to be here...

Lavender pulls me into a quick hug. “If you’re looking for Hermione, she’s right over there.” She points a perfectly manicured finger towards the left side of the pub. She winks at me and leads Dean towards the back of the bar.

“Harry!” “Mr. Potter!” “Harry, Harry!” “This way, Mr. Potter! Harry Potter!” The crowd’s calls are muffled and strangely eerie as I make my way toward her. She hasn’t seen me yet. She’s sitting there, looking absolutely gorgeous, sipping a club soda. A wave of emotions comes over me and I have to fight the tears back. I have dreamed of this moment for the last eight years. She sighs and rests her chin in her hands. I know she is bored. Partying was never something she enjoyed.

“Harry!” I am swept into the arms of Mrs. Weasley. Her face is more lined that it was and there is more white in her hair, but her eyes hold the same warmth that welcomed me into the Burrow when I was a scrawny boy of twelve.

“Harry!” Mr. Weasley shakes my hand and soon I am surrounded by red hair. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George...

“Where is—”

Ginny pushes her way through her family. “Potter!” I turn around and feel her fist connect with my nose.

“Ohhh...” I whimper and try to stem the bleeding. “God, Gin... You sure know how to pack a punch...”

She stops, mouth half open, and looks at me confusedly. “Th... Thanks...” She stammers, pulls out her wand and, with a few well-chosen words, has stopped the bleeding. Then she embraces me. “Welcome back, Harry. I’m sorry I acted like such a drama queen... It’s just that... Well, everyone thought you were dead... And, err... Well, you’ve kind of... you know... hijacked my engagement party...”

I nod. “It’s quite all right, Gin... Let’s go sit in the back and talk. We have a lot of catching up to do.” She smiles and motions for Draco to join her. As they make their way toward the back, I decide to ask Hermione if she’ll come with me.

She’s talking to Colin Creevey. He hasn’t changed one bit and his camera still appears to be permanently attached to his hands. She looks over my way at this precise moment and our eyes meet. Her smile fades into a look of shock and her eyebrows knit together. A highly confused Colin looks my way and raises his camera. Hermione pushes it back down and stands up, starting toward me.

Our eyes never part as we make our way across the floor. I am no longer aware of the calls going on around me. There is no one else in the room... Everything else is a blurry haze... There is a funny feeling behind my navel, almost like the feeling a portkey gives... But this is no portkey. This is the woman I love.

We meet in the center of the room. Her lips are parted slightly and her chest slowly rises and falls with each breath she takes. “Hermione...” I whisper, leaning in to catch the subtle traces of vanilla in her hair.

“Harry...” She breathes, backing away slowly. She then brushes away the hair that always falls into my eyes, and traces the scar on my forehead like she always used to do. “It’s really you... I’ve dreamed of this...” I close my eyes and surrender to her touch, then take her fingers and bring them to my lips.

I kiss each one and then whisper against her fingertips, “I told you I’d come back for you...”

She pulls her hand away and looks at me. Her eyes narrow and cloud.

“Hermione... What’s wr—”

She pulls back her fist and it collides with the underside of my jaw. It catches me off guard and before I know it, I am sprawled on the floor, looking up at her through watery eyes. It’s the second time this evening I’ve been punched by a woman... There must be something in the water... She’s got one hell of a right hook...

“Hermione... I though you would be ecstatic!” I pull myself up and stand in front of her.

She’s nodding intensely. “You did? You thought that you could just come back here after eight years and I’d fall right back into your arms? Yeah, well, that always was your problem, Harry! Your head was too big for its own good.” Ouch... Tears are streaming down her cheeks. “WHY DID YOU COME BACK?” Not good. Hermione Granger is screaming at me. “WHY IN BLOODY HELL ARE YOU BACK HERE? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! I’VE SPENT THE LAST EIGHT YEARS OF MY LIFE BELIEVING YOU WERE DEAD! I MOURNED FOR YOU! MERLIN, WE HAD A BLOODY HEADSTONE MADE FOR YOU!”

“Hermione...” I lower my voice, hoping that she will follow suit, and put my hands on her shoulders. “can’t we talk about this?”

She throws my hands off her shoulders. “I CAN’T JUST PICK UP LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED! YOU TOLD ME THAT IF YOU HADN’T COME BACK IN A FEW MONTHS, YOU WOULDN’T BE COMING BACK! EIGHT YEARS, POTTER. EIGHT SODDING YEARS! I’M NOT SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD ANYMORE, HARRY! TOO MUCH HAS HAPPENED... I’VE BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH TO JUST TAKE UP WITH YOU AGAIN!”

“‘Mione...”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!”

“People are staring...” And they truly are. Every eye in the pub is on us... I know how much she hates attention, so I’m trying this angle... And did she just call me by my last name?

“AND THAT WOULD BOTHER YOU HOW? YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED BEING IN THE LIMELIGHT! IT WAS PART OF THAT SODDING BIG HEAD!” She stares at me, panting and tears still falling.

“Hermione...” Ron steps out of nowhere and puts his arm around her. “Shh...” He breathes into her hair... (I used to do that.) “Come on, love... I’ll take you home. Everything will be fine... I promise... We’ll get through it.”

She points a shaky finger at me. “He... He left...” Funny, she didn’t have any problem finding words a few minutes ago.

“I know... I was there, remember?” He lays her cloak over her shoulders. “Come on... Let’s go home...”

She nods and Ron turns back to me. “We need to talk, Harry... I’ll be back later. Stay here.”

Hermione sniffs. “He has problems with that one, Ron.”

He kisses her forehead. (I used to do that, too.) “I’m serious, Harry. Stay here.”

I nod and watch as my two best friends Disapparate.

* * *

I sit upright in bed and desperately try to remember what exactly is happening today. I know it’s something important... Quidditch... No... That was last week... I rack my brain for five minutes before I hear Ron muttering. “Ron...” I hiss. “Ron!”

“Hmm... What? Are the spiders attacking?” He blinks lazily and sits up.

“Spiders?” I ask quizzically.

Ron looks around and answers, “Erm... Never mind... Now, what did you wake me up for?”

“I thought the spiders were attacking.” I say gravely, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“Oh, shut up, Harry!” He heaves a pillow at me.

I catch it easily, like an oversized snitch, and scratch my head. “What’s happening today? I know it’s something important... I just can’t quite place it... I know it’s not Quidditch... I’m pretty sure it’s not Hogsmeade... Help me here, please.”

Ron stares at me. “Blimey, mate... You have problems if you can’t remember what today is...”

I shrug. “Okay... So, apparently it is pretty important...”

Ron sighs. “Harry... Check your trunk.” He points to it.

I lean over the end of my bed. “Lumos...” I whisper and the tip of my wand flares. I dig around in the trunk and pull out an oblong box. I remember. “T... Tonight?”

“Yeah...” he nods. “You said you were going to do it tonight before you left in the morning.”

I sigh. “Tomorrow? I can’t believe it’s finally here. I mean... In forty-eight hours, Voldemort or I will be dead... Possibly both. Nox,” I extinguish my wand. “I mean to say... Our lives will be snuffed out... Just like someone says... nox.”

He hits me playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, Harry... You’re not going to die! You defeated him when you were just a year old... Surely you can do it as a seventeen-year-old.”

My eyes rest on the box and I turn it over and over in my hands. “You’ll take care of her if I don’t come back.” It’s truly a statement rather than a question.

He nods and we sit in silence, watching the sun rise, knowing that an unspoken agreement had just been made between us. We both love Hermione. I have complete faith in the fact that if I’m gone Ron will be there, just like he always has.

2. And I Love Her

DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER and all related names and indicia are J.K. Rowling’s. In other words, I don’t own it, so you’d be wasting your time suing. I also ask that you please do not stalk Daniel Radcliffe. (That’s my job.) EspÍo tu hijo. ¿Dónde esta el? (You should know, but if you don’t, I’d look it up.)

A/N: Wow! Thanks so much! I just wanted to let you guys know that I really appreciate you taking the time to review. That said, on with the fic!

Chapter Two

And I Love Her

“I give her all my love

That’s all I do

And if you saw my love

You’d love her, too

I love her...

“Bright are the stars that shine

Dark is the sky

I know this love of mine

Will never die

And I love her...”

“And I Love Her”

—by The Beatles

I usher Hermione into the kitchen and sit her down at the table. She sits in shock, staring straight ahead while I make tea. It’s finally hit, the realization that Harry has come home. We’ve talked about what would happen if he ever returned. ‘I’m through with him, Ron!’ she swore to me one night in The Snitch. ‘If he ever comes back, I’ll... I’ll... I’ll hit him in the face!’ I didn’t believe her... She was drunk, for Merlin’s sake! I guess I should have.

I pour the hot beverage into a cup and make it just the way she likes it— honey and just a hint of milk— but I add something extra tonight; a potion for a dreamless sleep will help clear her mind.

I hand it to her and she absentmindedly takes it. “No, thank you...” she says quietly, sipping it.

Yeah... She’s upset. “Listen, ‘Mione... Go to bed. Sleep... That’s what you need. Then tomorrow you can have a nice long think in a hot bath.”

She nods, takes one more sip of her tea, and stands. “Wh... What?” She falls into my arms, asleep. Hmm... Potent stuff. I carry her upstairs and lay her on our bed. Then I just watch her.

I love watching her sleep. I love how she nestles her head down into the pillow and the way she sighs in her sleep. I love watching her chest rise and fall and how she parts her lips slightly and turns up the corners of her mouth into that sweet grin. I love how she hasn’t changed at all these last eight years. I love how bushy her hair is and the way it spreads over the pillow. I love the rosy blush that paints her smooth skin. So, I think the conclusion we can come to, is that I love everything about her.

And I love her. But I knew that. I’ve always known that.

When I was little, my mother told me that every time a baby laughs for the first time, an angel gets its wings. Hermione may not be a baby, but the first time she laughed after Harry left was beautiful, and I’ll be damned if a thousand angels didn’t get their wings that day. It took her so long to laugh... When Harry left, she could not function. She gave her speech (the one she’d worked so hard on for nine months and practiced in the mirror for hours at a time) at the Farewell Banquet in a monotone voice and fought tears the entire time. Afterwards, she would cry and cry or just sit and stare. It was like Harry had taken her soul with him and left her body. In a way, he had. She was a shell. Empty.

Did he not realize she was mad for him? That leaving her would kill her? Then he has the nerve to come back eight years later like nothing ever happened. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s not dead, but why wait eight years? Why not owl or Floo or contact us somehow?The little voice in my head that sounds strangely like my mum says,You know the only person who can give you those answers is Harry.

Yes, I know... But I don’t want to talk to him.

He saved your life on more than one occasion... That nasty, little voice comments.Remember? Don’t you think you owe him?

I never asked him to play the hero...

Would you have left him to die?

You know I wouldn’t have.

Isn’t leaving him wondering almost the same thing?

I pull the door closed and grab my cloak. The voice (wow... how nutters do I sound now?) is right. He may have left, but he deserves to know the truth.

* * *

He is sitting at the bar nursing his jaw with an ice pack, a large, half-empty (or half-full if you’re one of those optimistic people) of Firewhisky in front of him. I sit beside him. “You couldn’t magic it away?” I point to the bruise.

He laughs mirthlessly. “I didn’t try to... I reckon I deserve what I get.”

“You do...” I state simply, motioning for a shot of Firewhiskey. I drink it and pay Dean.

“You never did mince words, Ron...” he sighs.

I stand. “Come on... We need to talk. Let’s get out of here, Harry.”

He shrugs, gives the ice pack to Dean and follows me onto Diagon Alley. We walk in silence for a minute, passing Fred and George’s joke shop. “They’re still in business?”

I nod. “Of course. They out sold Zonko’s the year after you left and—”

“Well, I noticed that The Snitch is where Zonko’s used to be... Things have really changed.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious... “It’s been eight years, Harry. Things are bound to change.”

“Herm... She... I mean to say, she looks good.”

And she’s mine! I want to scream at him. “She’s tough. She has to be.”

“You guys were always the only constant in my life... And even now... I mean to say, it’s nice to see that you two are still friends. At least one thing hasn’t changed.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. (How annoying... Talk about things that haven’t changed.)

A thousand things are running through my mind right now... Do I tell him? Do I make him suffer? Remember fifth year in the Department of Mysteries? The horrible voice is back again. “Well...” Anyway, it gives me a good place to start. “Yeah... About that... We’re married Harry.”

He stares at me. I think he’s in shock. “How long?” he says, quite calmly.

“It was eight years in November.” I watch him. He shows no emotion. Good ole Harry... Always afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“Why?” He looks at me, eyes shining in the dim light from the moon.

I shrug. How can I tell him? “It crushed her when you left, Harry. She... She just couldn’t function. For the six months or so, she just kept telling us that you would come back for her... When we got married... I felt bad, Harry. Merlin, I felt bad...” How can I lie? How can I stand here and tell him that I felt horrible about it when there was that nasty little part of me that jumped for joy? How can I admit that I was almost happy when he didn’t come back and I got Hermione all to myself? How can I tell him that—

“But I did say that! And look! I’m back!” He’s trying to justify it to himself.

I shake my head. “No, it’s been eight years, Harry. Look... I’m not... asking where you were. I’m just trying to say...” I look up at the February sky and sigh. “She waited and waited for you to come back to her, and... You didn’t. She was crushed. And then... Ipicked up the pieces and helped her get her life back together—”

“Do you love her?” He cuts me off and we stop beside Gringotts.

I scoff. “You just don’t get it, do you, Harry?”

“It’s a simple question,” he retorts. “Do—You—Love—Her?”

I sigh. “I always loved her.” I grit my teeth and punch the wall. I see him flinch and rub his jaw 0absentmindedly. “but she always loved you. Don’t you see? I just won by default. She just settled for me.” I run a hand through my hair. “Look... I’d... I’d better be getting back to her, Harry. Meet... Meet me for lunch tomorrow at The Snitch. We’ll talk more tomorrow... You and I both need a think. Maybe I’ll convince Hermione to come!”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Hermione?”

“Okay... Maybe not then. But I will talk to her. I’ll tell her...” That you’re a lying jackass... “I’ll try to make her see...” That you’re the biggest bastard that ever lived... “But what you have to remember about Hermione... When she gets her mind set on something, she never relents.” I laugh in spite of myself. “Remember spew?”

He chuckles. “How could I forget?” He mimics a fourteen-year-old Hermione, “‘It’s not spew!It’s S—P—E—W!’” Us laughing out here in the moonlight... It’s almost like old times... But, suddenly we remember and stop laughing. We remember that we’re not sixteen years old... We—well... I have responsibilities... “Hey, Harry... Do... erm... Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

He shakes his head. “No... I haven’t actually thought about that... yet...”

“Oh... Well, good luck with that!” I slap him on the back and right before I Disapparate, I turn and say, “You might check with Gin... Of course... She’s probably with Draco.” The last thing I see is of Harry staring open mouthed at me. Mission accomplished...

* * *

“Harry!” I call as I run up behind him. “Harry! Wait for me!”

“Us!” Hermione catches up to Harry and me and grabs his hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you guys were trying to exclude me!” She laughs, but I know that she knows she’s right.

“‘Mione, love...” Harry looks at her. “Are you sure you want to tag along with us? You could be in your room reading—”

She shakes her head. “The man I love is leav—”

“Shh!” Harry and I shush her and we continue to Dumbledore’s office.

“Right... Anyway... You’re... you know... Tomorrow morning and you expect me to be in my room reading?”

He sighs and we stop in front of the stone gargoyle that has become all too familiar this past year. “Hermione...”

“Who knows when I’ll see you again?” Her chocolate eyes sparkle with tears.

Harry kisses her forehead. “I’ll be back in a week!” He grins that awkward grin, but his eyes show uncertainty. He’s been well-trained, but he’s not invincible. ‘My mum’s not here this time...’ He told me earlier this morning. ‘What if... I die?’

I can’t convince him that he’ll be fine. After all... He’s Harry-Sodding-Potter.

“Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum,” Harry tells the gargoyle and we climb onto the staircase, Hermione still clinging to Harry’s hand, and me... tagging along behind them.

It didn’t really come as a shock to me when they started dating. I guess I knew it would always happen. I just always hoped that something would happen and I would get my chance. I’ve gotten used to it. Right now, I’m just assuming my normal position. Standing behind them while they cling to each other. Harry told me once that when he looked into Hermione’s eyes, he could see forever. I seem to have the same problem.

“Ron?” Her sweet voice reaches my ears. “Ron... We’re here.” She touches my arm with her free hand and we step into Dumbledore’s office.

“Mr. Potter...” He stands and shakes Harry’s hand. “Ahh... Miss Granger... Mr. Weasley... I should have thought as much.” Hermione stands to leave, but the headmaster stops her. “No, no... It’s important for Harry to be with the people he cares about now.”

Hermione looks ready to dissolve into tears... But, then again, she’s looked like that for pretty much the last month. “Oh, Professor Dumbledore! Isn’t there any way I can go with him? Please?” Her eyes widen and a tiny drop slides down her cheek. She wipes it away almost angrily. She knows she must stay strong for Harry’s sake.

“I am sorry, Miss Granger... There is just no way.” The wizened old man looks at her sympathetically... Well, I’ve been forgotten again... But I really should be used to that by now... It happens when your best friend is Harry-Bloody-Potter.

Hermione takes in a shuddering breath and sinks into her chair, holding onto Harry’s hand tighter than I’ve ever seen her.

“Professor Dumbledore...” Harry says. “I’m ready. I know it. I just... I want to get it over with. I want to get it over with and come back and get on with my life... I want to have a normal life without Voldemort... Without the Death Eaters... I want a normal life with Hermione. And Ron.” Yeah, I heard the way you said that. Adding my name as an afterthought. Go on Harry-Bloody-Sodding-Potter.

Professor Dumbledore looks over the tops of his half-moon spectacles at Harry. “You’re sure?”

Harry looks at Hermione and then at (Surprise!) me. He gives me the tiniest grin and answers, “Yes.”

Professor Dumbledore nods. “You leave from the Astronomy Tower at three tomorrow morning. Be ready. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger I assume you will help?” I nod while Hermione whimpers and looks at Harry. He reaches over to her and pulls her toward him, gently stroking her hair as she buries her face in his chest and cries. Finally, she cries.

I sit for a while, trying to decide what to do. I eventually put my hand on her back and mutter along with Harry. There are tears in my eyes, too, and when Harry looks up, I see that his glasses have tiny spots on them. Hermione offers her arm to me and the three of us sit in a squashed circle, crying our eyes out... Who knows when we’ll ever get to do so again?

3. Crash

Well... I want to thank you all for replying! ;) It really means a lot to me and I appreciate your comments and suggestions.

This chapter is your official introduction to my beta, Jennza’s, fluff. It’s quite good and quite... Well... You know, fluffy. So enjoy and review! (you know... if you want...) ;)

And I still don’t own anything.

Chapter Three

Crash

“You’ve got your ball

You’ve got your chain

Tied to me tight

Tie me up again

Who’s got their claws in you, my friend?

Into your heart I’ll beat again

Sweet like candy to my soul

Sweet you rock

And sweet you roll

Lost for you

I’m so lost for you

You come crash into me

And I’ll come into you

I come into you”

‘Crash’—by The Dave Matthews Band

I am never, ever, ever, ever drinking again. For one, I have no alcohol tolerance at all. Ron says that I’m the only person he knows that can get drunk on champagne. Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. I hate being hungover... It’s the worst feeling in the world. Then there’s the fact that when I’m drunk, I hallucinate. And when I hallucinate, I see Harry. No... Correction, I hit Harry. But... Wait a minute, I hallucinated Ginny hitting him first, so this time it was different.

I open my right eye and see the pale yellow walls of my bedroom spinning around me. Okay, not a really good idea. “Hermione...” The mattress sags in the middle as Ron sits beside me and puts a hand on my back. “‘Mione... Wake up.”

I mumble something completely incoherent (even I’m not completely sure what I said).

“Oh, good you’re conscious.”

I wince as he turns on the light. (A lot of people ask me why, as a witch, I have electricity. All those candles in Snape’s dungeon really creep me out. I’ll take the, as dear Mr. Weasley says, ‘eckeltricity’ any day, thank you very much... Well, and Ron likes to play with the switches.) I sit up cautiously. “Merlin... How much did you let me drink last night?” I open my eyes and, slowly, everything comes into focus.

“Erm... Nothing. You had club soda last night, remember, Hermione?” He looks incredibly guilty.

“No...” I lick my lips. Must... Brush... Teeth... “But it feels like Buckbeak ran wild in my mouth last night.”

“Oh!” Ron hands me a glass of water and some Pepper-Up! Potion. “Yeah... Well, you know, you might have had a glass of champagne or so...” He shrugs and watches me drink the Pepper-Up! Potion, followed quickly by a gulp of water.

Hmm... That’s strange... It usually takes me two and a half glasses to get completely sloshed. “Well, if I didn’t get drunk then why did I feel so gross this morning? You know, other than the fact that I haven’t had a shower, brushed my hair or my teeth, or changed clothes.”

He looks at the carpet. “Well... Don’t get mad, love, but... erm... I, uh... I gave-you-a-potion-for-a-dreamless-sleep.” He says it quickly and chews on his thumb.

“You did what?” I ask sweetly.

I see him relax. He thinks he’s off the hook. “I gave you a potion for a dreamless sleep.”

I smile and nod. “Oh, so what you mean is that YOU BLOODY LACED MY DRINK AND THOUGHT THAT I WOULD JUST ROLL OVER AND TAKE IT!” I pick up a pillow and hit him with every word. “Well—you—have—another—thing—coming—Ronald—Weasley! I—can't— believe—that—you—sodding—did—that!”

“Ow! Merlin, 'Mione, stop!”

I am in a fury. My hair is wild around my head and my arms flail.

“STOP!” He grabs my shoulders and holds me still.

“Anyway,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath. “It didn’t work, because I dreamed about Harry. I dreamed that he came back... and...”

He is staring at the carpet and chewing on his thumb. “Err... Well, dear, erm... Harry is back.”

“What? He’s back? Now? After all this time?”

Ron nods. “Um... yeah. That would be about right.”

“But he can’t be!” I grab the pillow back and start hitting Ron again, this time wordlessly. I just want to take out every feeling that I had in the last eight years on something. Soon, I abandon the pillow and start using my fists, blindly hitting anything and hope it hurts.

“Hermione! Stop! Stop it!” Ron pins my arms to my sides. “Stop! Calm down! Just relax!” He brushes the hair out of my eyes and kisses me. “Relax... Shh, love, just calm down...” His arms are around me now and I collapse sobbing into his arms. He rocks me back and forth, murmuring softly into my hair.

“Did... I, uh... Did I talk to him?” I ask after a minute, wiping away the tears that I’ve quelled.

I see him look over to the clock. “Look, ‘Mione... Can’t we talk about this later? You need time to think... Well, and so do I.” He hugs me, kisses me softly, and stands. “I’m going to lunch. Will you be okay?”

I nod. “Yeah... I’m going over to the Burrow.” He grabs his cloak out of our closet. “Ron, you weren’t... You weren’t planning on going to meet Harry were you?”

He looks at me. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” He nods. “Didn’t think so. See you later.”

I slump back into the pillows and sigh.

* * *

“Mum!” I call as I enter the Burrow. “Molly?”

Ginny walks in and smiles at me. “Hello, Hermione. Mum had to run off, so Aunt Ginny is babysitting.”

I bite my lip. “Oh, am I terribly late?”

She pulls me into a hug. “No one blames you, dear. How are you feeling this morning?”

I shrug. “A bit hungover. You?”

“Well,” Ginny sighs. “Morning sickness is a killer, huh?”

My jaw drops. “Ginny Weasley... And you were throwing back shots last night at The Snitch!”

“Shots of carbonated water!” she says hurriedly. “I can pretend it’s Firewhiskey.”

I laugh. “What does Draco think about this?”

“He couldn’t be happier! He’s all set for a girl, but I don’t know... I kind of want a little Draco to love.” She winks at me. “Wouldn’t Ron and Harry love that? Remember how they used to fight? Somehow the words ‘Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret’ come to mind here,” she laughs.

I scoff and shake my head. “Speaking of which... Gin... Can you tell me what happened last night? I can’t remember a thing.”

“What did Ron say?” she asks.

“He wants to talk about it later,” I sigh and pick at a stain in the tablecloth. “He gave me a stupid potion that only resulted in the erasing of my memory... I dreamed that I hit Harry... But you hit him first. It was quite entertaining.”

She laughs. “Hermione, dear! I did hit him... And so did you, darling! I must say, you do have an excellent right hook!”

I nod. “Good... He deserved it. I’d do it again if I had the chance.”

“Well,” she leans in towards me and drops her voice down to a whisper. “What about—”

“Mummy!” There is a mess of red hair in my face suddenly and I find myself looking into the beautiful blue eyes of my son.

“James!” I hug him. “Did you have a good time?”

He nods excitedly. “Yes, Mummy! Uncle Fred and Uncle George want to take me flying! Can’t I go, Mummy! Please, please, please! Please let me go! I’ll go straight home and clean my room! Please, Mummy!”

The twins enter and nod to me. “Hullo, Hermione,” they say together.

“Good morning, Gred, Forge.” I wink to them and they grin.

“Is it all right if we take James flying for a little while?” Fred asks me.

“I... don’t know...” I sigh. I’ve never really enjoyed flying and it makes me nervous to think of my child hovering in the air.

“Come on, Herms!” George says. “We won’t go very fast.”

James looks up at me with those eyes. I sigh. “All right, but don’t go very fast. And don’t go too far. We have to be getting home soon.”

James throws his arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. “Thanks, Mummy! I’ll be really careful.” He follows Fred and George outside and Ginny looks at me sympathetically.

“Oh, Gin... What am I going to do?”

* * *

“Harry...” I reach over and take his hand. “Come with me... Let’s go to the astronomy tower.” There are only a few other people in the common room, but right now I need him all to myself.

I see him hesitate, start to object. After all, he plans to leave early in the morning and knows he needs his sleep. Then he looks into my eyes and whatever he sees there changes his mind.

“Let me get my cloak.” He kisses my hand and lays it on my lap, then runs up the stairs to the dormitory.

When Harry returns, we slip out the portrait hole and, huddled together under the invisibility cloak, make our way to the tower. As we step out into the night, Harry drops the cloak at our feet and I cross over to the parapet. I tilt my head back to look up at the night sky. Gauzy clouds drift across the sky, obscuring the moon. It feels like it might rain soon. “Must you leave?”

“Hermione...” Harry sighs, coming up behind me to slide his arms around my waist. “We’ve been over this, love. You know I have to go.”

“But why you? and why now?” I lean back against him, feel him rest his cheek on my hair. I could stay like this forever, safe and loved in his arms.

“Hermione,” he says softly. “I need to tell you something.”

I turn slowly in his arms so that I can look into his beautiful eyes. My breath catches in my throat. How long will it be until I can be with him again like this?

“Do you remember the prophecy that Voldemort was trying to get in the Department of Mysteries?”

“Of course.” I nod, burying my head in his chest.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh months dies....’”

I stand quietly for a moment, letting the words dance around in my head. “Oh, Harry...” I breathe, as the meaning becomes clear to me.

“It has to be me, ‘Mione,” he says finally. “It’s been my destiny since the night Voldemort killed my parents. Until he’s gone, none of us are safe. Until he’s gone, we can’t have a life together.”

He’s holding me tighter now, so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t need breath, or food, or water, or sleep. All I need is Harry, alive, with me.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me,” I say.

“‘Mione,” he says softly. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Promise me! I need to hear you say the words.”

He holds me away from him so he can look into my eyes. “I promise that I will come back to you if there’s a way. I would never stay away by choice. If I don’t come back, it’s because I can’t.”

I can’t let myself think of that possibility, it hurts too much. I have to focus on the here and now, my last moments with Harry before the battle. “Dance with me,” I say suddenly, pulling him away from the parapet.

“What—here?” Apparently this wasn’t what he expected to hear. “There’s no music.”

“We don’t need music. We have each other.”

As we begin to sway together slowly, the words of a muggle song run through my head.

‘You’ve got your ball

You’ve got your chain

Tied to me tight

Tie me up again

Who’s got their claws

In you my friend?

Into your heart I’ll beat again’

Oh, Harry... You’re so young to have so many people depending on you. We should be planning our future...

‘Sweet like candy to my soul

Sweet you rock

And sweet you roll

Lost for you

I’m so lost for you

You come crash into me

And I come into you’

I look up into his eyes and I am lost in their emerald depths. My whole world is there. I see everything I need in Harry’s soul.

‘Touch your lips just so I know

In your eyes, love, it glows so

I’m bare boned and crazy for you

When you come crash

Into me, baby

And I come into you’

My hand is on the back of his neck. I lift my face to him and pull his head down until I can capture his lips with mine. He hesitates for a split second, then deepens the kiss, his hands running up my back.

‘If I’ve gone overboard

Then I’m begging you

To forgive me

In my haste

When I’m holding you so

Close to me

Oh, and you come crash

Into me, baby

And I come into you’

Harry breaks the kiss and rests his chin on my head. “Enough, ‘Mione. I’m getting... ideas here.”

We’ve always taken the physical aspect of our relationship slowly. I’ve always secretly seen it as a sign of maturity that we don’t need to rush things. But now...

“Harry, make love to me.”

“Do... What?” He’s stuttering. Great, just the effect I wanted.

“Harry, I want you to make love to me... Now... Tonight.”

“Not that I’m objecting, but... Are you sure?” he grins down at me and I can see surprise and— is that hope in his eyes? I grin back. He may be facing Voldemort tomorrow, but tonight he’s just a seventeen-year-old boy.

“You’re leaving in the morning. I want our last hours together to be special. This is what I want.”

He’s looking at me seriously now, and I can see the debate going on in his head. “If you’re sure,” he says finally. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do my last night here.”

I pull him down to the stone floor of the tower, then lean in to kiss him. “I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”

‘Hike up your skirt a little more

And show the world to me

Hike up your skirt a little more

And show your world to me

In a boy’s dream... In a boy’s dream

Oh, I watch you there

Through the window

And I stare at you

You wear nothing but you

Wear it so well

Tied up and twisted

The way I’d like to be

For you, for me,

Come crash into me...’

And the warm rain begins to fall.

4. Ordinary

A/N: Well, I must say that I’m quite surprised at the number of reviews that I have! Thanks to all that reviewed (and to those who didn’t and are just reading, that’s fine! I do it all the time! Just know that I appreciate you! :D)

Oh, before we go any farther, let me address this once and for all; James is 100%, pure, prime-cut, all natural, however you want to put it, Weasley. You’ll see... (Oh, you will.)

Anyway, moving on, I said in one of my replies to a review that I was afraid the changing Point of View was getting confusing. It’s hard for me to remember what I’m supposed to remember... (I’m not that smart, after all!) But I will try to put the PoV person at the beginning of the chapter to maybe clear some stuff up.

Very special thanks to my beta Jennza, who re-did practically this whole chapter. Yes, yes, thanks, thanks. **wOoT**

Now that all that’s said and done, (and I know you’re tired of me rambling) on with the fic!;)

Harry

Chapter Four

Ordinary

“Whose eyes am I behind

I don’t recognize anything that I see

Whose skin is this design

I don’t want this to be the way you see me

“I don’t understand anything anymore

In this world that I’m tired of

Is taking me right up these walls

That I climb up to get to your story

It’s anything but ordinary

“And when the world is on its knees with me it’s fine

And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind

Everybody seems to be getting what they need

Where’s mine”

‘Cause you’re everything I need so very

But I’m anything but ordinary”

‘Ordinary’

—Train

I’m hiding behind the morning edition of The Daily Prophet. Not because I’m worried about being recognized, but because I’m tired of all the whispers about how I got my black eyes. Yeah—The-Boy-Who-Survived-Voldemort-Seven-Times-With-Only-A-Nifty-Scar-to-Show-For-It has two black eyes. And an impressive bruise on my jaw. And I think my nose is broken, or at the very least badly sprained. Wait... Can a nose be sprained? Whatever, it hurts like hell. I always knew I was more scared of Hermione than little Tommy Riddle for a reason.

“Harry, you can come out from behind there.” I feel the table shift as Ron sits down across from me.

I lower the newspaper slowly and see Ron trying to fight the smile that has already spread across his face.

“Umm...” he laughs. “Uh... well...”

I sigh. “Go. I deserve it.”

He laughs again. “It’s not as bad as it could be, mate, honestly.” He keeps laughing.

I want to reach across the table and give him two black eyes, an impressive bruise on his jaw and a broken (or sprained) nose. Instead I shrug awkwardly. “I guess.”

He finally stops laughing and gestures to the paper. “Still making the front page?”

I scoff. “Yeah...” He grins at the picture of me, sprawled on the floor holding my jaw. “‘Photo by Colin Creevey!’” I read. “Well, at least one thing hasn’t changed!”

Ron grins. “Justin might disagree with that.”

“Who... what?” I’m getting more confused by the second.

“Justin and Colin—they’re an item now. They’ve really been good for each other.”

Dear Merlin, what alternate universe have I wandered into? Hermione’s married to Ron, Ginny’s marrying Draco Malfoy, she and Hermione both hate me, Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley are a couple... I’m not sure how many more shocks like this I can take.

Ron motions for drinks and drums his fingers on the table. “Look, Harry,” he says finally. “I know a lot of things have changed, and I understand you’re confused. But it’s been almost nine years, Harry!” his voice is rising. Yep, he’s angry with me, too. “What did you expect us to do, clap you on the back and say, ‘welcome home, mate’?”

I look down at the table. “Well... kind of...” I mumble.

He snorts. “You were gone. We thought you were dead. We had to move on with our lives.” He shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong here, Hermione would have waited for you til the end of time if she thought there was any chance of you coming back. She worked so hard to put her life back together after you left. In fact, she’d have my head if she knew I was with you now.” He twists his wedding back nervously.

“Obviously...” I put a hand to my jaw. “So... How long did you say you’ve been married? A year, two?”

Parvati comes over, sets two bottles of butterbeer down in front of us and winks at me. “The usual, Ron?” she asks him. He nods and she turns to me. “Harry?”

“The same,” I say shortly, not caring what the usual is. I just need to head the answer to my question. Parvati walks away and I turn back to my best friend... my formerbest friend. “Ron?”

He looks down at his hands. He’s really giving his wedding ring a workout today. I get the impression it’s a nervous habit he’s had for a while. “Eight.”

“Months?”

“Years,” he says quietly, finally looking at me. “Last November was eight years.”

I spit out the drink of butterbeer I’ve just taken. “Eight years? But... I left nine years ago this June. “You married her five months after I left? Unbelievable.”

“We thought you were dead,” he says simply.

“And that makes it okay?” I almost yell. I can see the tips of his ears turning pink. “She was my girlfriend!”

He grips the table so tightly his knuckles are white. I know the one thing that will make him snap. It’s the one thing that’s always been an issue with us. I lean toward him. “And you were jealous, weren’t you, Ron?”

He slams his fist on the table but says nothing. He stares over my head and breathes deeply. “She—” Breath. “We had our reasons, Harry. Believing you dead was only part of it.”

“I told her I would come back to her! She gave up on me after only five months? What kind of logic is that? I’ll bet you moved in on her as soon as I was gone.”

He looks back at me soberly, but doesn’t respond. I am seeing a side of Ron I don’t remember from before. Something in these last eight years has matured him immensely. “We had it on very good authority that you were dead. The Order pieced together what happened—they brought us your glasses, Harry. Or pieces of them, anyway. That’s the day we began to accept the fact that you were gone.”

“So, you thought Voldemort and I were both dead?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No... Hermione said that if you were dead, Voldemort was still alive. Something about some prophecy or other.”

I start. “She told you that?”

He sighs. “You think she told me? She wouldn’t betray you like that. I pieced it together from things she said and some conversations with Albus and Remus.” He laughs mirthlessly. “You told her that you would come back to her. That you would never leave her by choice and if you didn’t come back...”

“It was because I couldn’t...” I finish his sentence, muttering the same words I breathed to her that night on the Astronomy Tower. “She told you that?” I’m wondering what else she told him.

“I strung it together.” He traces the rim of the bottle with his finger. “She believed you. She said you promised her. And when has Harry Potter ever broken a promise?” He snorts. “Until then.”

I’m still confused. “But why only five months? Why not longer? A year...”

“And then another and then another because that’s the way it is with her. Believe me, Harry, if we hadn’t made her deal with your... erm... death... she’d still be pining away for you.”

“So you helped her deal with my death by marrying her?” I can’t believe he expects me to just accept this.

“You don’t know what it was like after you left, Harry. We all knew you’d gone to face Voldemort, but we didn’t know where or when it would happen. The Death Eaters were out in force—it wasn’t safe for any of us. We had reasons for what we did, but it’s not my place to tell you what they were.”

“And whose place is it?” I ask petulantly. I know what he’ll say, but I have to hear it.

“You need to talk to Hermione.”

My jaw gives a painful throb. “Yeah, because that worked out so well the first time!”

Ron sighs. “I’ll talk to her. She just needs time to... deal with things. It’s not every day her ex-boyfriend comes back from the dead.”

That’s when it really hits. All I am to her is an ex-boyfriend. Ron has been her husband for the last eight years. They’ve built a life without me. Suddenly I have a hundred questions. I don’t know where they live, or what kind of jobs they have, or—

“Do you have children?” I ask abruptly. Suddenly, it’s important that I know something about their live together.

He shakes his head. “I’m not discussing anything... personal with you. Hermione needs to tell you about the last eight years on her own terms.” He shrugs. “Sorry, mate.”

I look down and push away a congealing shepherd’s pie. I never even noticed when the food arrived. Ron hasn’t touched his either.

“Listen, Harry,” he leans across the table. “Are you sure you’re ready to talk to her? You’re going to have to do a lot of explaining before she’ll tell you anything.”

I nod. “I wouldn’t have come back if I wasn’t ready to explain myself to her. I just hope she’s ready to listen this time.”

“I guess you found someplace to stay last night,” he says, picking up his fork.

“I took a room at The Leaky Cauldron,” I say, watching as he digs into his cold lunch. “But I thought tonight I might go to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.”

Ron puts his fork down. Uh-oh. Ron Weasley turning away food? This does not bode well. “Not a good idea,” he says slowly, looking everywhere but at me.

“I know it’s probably in bad shape, but it’s got to be better than The Leaky Cauldron...” Why is he acting so weird?

He clears his throat. “After you were... declared dead, Hermione inherited your possessions...” He grimaces. “She and I live there now.”

Lovely. My best friend is married to my girlfriend and lives in my house. Can this get worse? Looks like The Leaky Cauldron for me again tonight. I sigh. At least there’s one question about this universe solved.

* * *

“Hermione...” I shake her gently. “‘Mione... Wake up.”

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles shyly at me. She dresses silently as I turn and look out over the moonlit grounds. Hagrid’s hut... The lake... The spot under the beech... Our spot. I angrily wipe away the tear that is rolling down my cheek and I feel her hands on my shoulders and her lips on my bare back. I turn to face her and she looks up at me with those eyes. “Aren’t you cold?” she asks, motioning to my exposed chest.

I shake my head. “No... And you looked bloody good in my shirt, ‘Mione... I’m almost sorry you pulled it off!” We laugh and the harsh reality sets it. I grab her neck and press my lips against hers. I feel her relax into me and I break away from her. “I—”

“Don’t think you have to say it, Harry,” she cuts me off. “I don’t need to hear it to know that it’s true.”

I’ve refrained from saying it. I know she could tell. This revelation does not surprise me. She knew I didn’t want to get too close to anyone before I had to go fight Voldemort. It would endanger her. But now... All I want is to tell her exactly how I feel about her. “No, ‘Mione... I want to. I’ve never said this to anyone before. God knows there was no one that I could say it to before. I... I love you, Hermione.”

“Are you sure?” she asks tearfully.

I nod. “Of course. You know... What I said earlier... you know that I meant it. I would never stay away by choice. If I don’t come back... Well...” I shrug. “It’s always a possibility.”

“Yes...” she agrees. “But... Harry... Do you remember what I told you our first year? Right before you left to go defeat Voldemort for the second time in your life?”

I think back seven years. A shorter, slightly buck teethed Hermione with bushier hair throws her arms around me, much as she’s doing now. “Hermione...” I breathe.

“Harry—you’re a great wizard, you know,” she whispers, tears falling down my chest.

I laugh. We’re now saying the exact same things to each other that we said in our first year. It’s comforting. How innocent we were then. We didn’t know what we were feeling was love. We only knew that we only cared about each other. “Not as good as you...” I tease her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“Me?” She giggles and throws her head back. “Books? And cleverness?” We stop our reverie and our eyes lock. “You’ve taught me more important things... Friendship... Bravery... Love...”

I capture her lips and am lost until she mutters. “Harry... It’s 2:45. You’d better get dressed.”

I pull my soaked shirt from the stone floor and, after she casts a drying charm on it, slip it over my head and pull her to me once more. “Fly with me...” I say quietly.

She shakes her head. “No... No, Harry.”

“Are you scared?” I brush a lock of hair away from her eyes.

She shakes her head. “Not scared exactly... I just don’t really like flying.”

“You said you wanted our last hours together to be special.” I know she won’t argue with her own logic.

She looks absolutely terrified. “And they were, Harry... They were! But... But...”

I can see the wheels in her head turning, trying to find an excuse.

“You don’t have your broom!” she shrugs. “Guess we can’t go!”

I draw her to me. “It doesn’t matter.” I’ve been practicing human levitation charms for protection, but I never thought about this aspect of it. “Look down.”

She peers over my shoulder and grabs me. “Harry! Harry! Put us down! But how’d you do that? This is very complex magic, Harry. I mean, not many wizards our age would be—”

“Hermione...” I speak over her. “Could you please stop considering the how’s, when’s, and why’s of everything and just enjoy the moment?”

She nods, kisses me softly, and shuts her eyes tightly. She nestles her head down into my chest. I rest my chin on her head and hold her. That’s all. Her breathing and the rhythm of her heart comfort me and her arms around my waist give me courage. It is in the desperate way she clings to me that strengthens me. I know who I am fighting for. She shivers and I draw my cloak more tightly around her.

“Mr. Potter...” Dumbledore’s voice breaks up from our silent reverie.

Hermione whimpers and tightens her grip around my waist as we float back down to the tower.

Opening my eyes, I see Ron, Remus, Snape, McGonagall, and Moody standing in the doorway. I look to them and so does Hermione, her eyes brimming and her breaths becoming shallow and quick. She is close to tears. Stay strong for me, love... I can’t bare to see you hurting. She steps a few inches away from me.

Professor McGonagall embraces me and whispers, “Good luck, Harry.”

Snape holds out a pallid hand. I grasp it firmly and we shake without words. His usually cold eyes seem to soften a little and he stares at me. He nods and turns away from me.

Professor Dumbledore gives Hermione a sympathetic glance and shakes my hand as well. “Remus and Alastor will escort you to headquarters where you will await further instructions. You do understand, right Mr. Potter?”

I nod. “You’ve trained me well, Professor Dumbledore; a year ago, if you’d told me to await instructions, I would have grabbed you by the neck and shook said instructions out of you.”

“I think we have reached a point in time where you may call me ‘Albus’, Harry. And, I believe, Miss Granger takes most of the credit with your self control. It takes a big person to back away from arrogance for love.”

Hermione blushes and I turn to Ron. He holds out his hand. I take it and pull him into a hug. We break apart and he claps me on the back. “Well... Good... Good luck, mate.” His words are strained and oddly high pitched. He thrusts my Invisibility Cloak into my hands and turns away before I can see the tears that I know are there.

I turn to Hermione. She is trying so hard to keep her tears in check, but as one slides down her cheek and I plant my lips on hers, I feel them fall freely and before I know it, I am crying too. I taste the salty tears on my lips, but I don’t know whether they’re mine or hers. I reluctantly pull away from her and trace her jaw with my thumb. “I will come back to you.” I whisper, seeing her cry harder. “I will. And you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

She nods and flings her arms around my neck. “Oh, Harry...” she breathes. “I’ll wait forever...”

I stare into her endless eyes. “I love you.” I hear Professor McGonagall’s muffled sobs and see Snape awkwardly patting her on the back.

“I love you, too,” she says, kissing me on the cheek.

Remus points to his watch and nods to me.

I kiss her one last time and steps over to Remus and Moody. “I’ll be back...” I call to her and as she spins out of focus, I see her fall into Ron’s arms and collapse into uncontrollable tears before I let my own slip silently down my cheeks.

5. She

All righty, well, first off, I’d like to say A MILLION THANKS to each and every one of you that read! (And reviewed, because I’m one away from 100, so thanks for that! :D)

Second, my beta, Jennza, is responsible for most of this chapter. So, thanks much to her. Erm... So... Read, enjoy, and review! (Or, you know, don’t... Whatever. *winks*)

~Ron~

Chapter Five:

She’s Like the Wind

She's like the wind through my trees
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done

Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look in her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind

I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she'll stop the pain
Living without her
I'd go insane

Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look in her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind

Feel your breath on my face
Your body close to me
Can't look in your eyes
You're out of my league

‘She’s Like the Wind’

—Patrick Swayze

I pop into the kitchen of The Burrow and see Hermione sitting at the table with my mum and Ginny. She turns her eyes to me as I walk in and manages to glare at me through the tears. “Where were you?” she asks, coldly.

I sigh. I can’t lie to her... Not after this long. “I was having lunch with your ex-boyfriend who suddenly decided he didn’t want to be dead anymore.”

She stares at me for a while. “He knows we’re married?” she asks, calmly.

I nod. “Yes.

“Well,” she sniffs, “maybe now he’ll see that I’m not waiting for him with open arms and go back to— Where’s he been all this time? Not that I care, you understand,” she hastens to add. “Just curious.”

“I don’t know where he’s been. He’s indicated he won’t discuss that with anyone but you.” I cross to the table and sit beside her. “And I don’t think he’s likely to leave, at least not until you talk to him.”

“Did you tell him anything?” She asks, turning towards me. She’s not glaring at me anymore so I have a sudden hope that I’m not sleeping on the couch tonight.

I shake my head. “He asked some. . .personal questions, but I told him he’d have to talk to you about them. He does know where we live, though.”

The glare is back. “And how, Ronald,” she hisses in a low, dangerous voice, “would he know where we live?”

At least I have a good reason to have told him. “He said he was planning to stay at #12 tonight and I told him that wasn’t a good idea. He seemed kind of shocked that you had inherited everything. Possibly because he’s not dead.”

“Probably worried about his Gringott’s account. Apparently possessions are more important to him than people.” She’s got a healthy dose of righteous anger going now. “You didn’t tell him anything... else, did you?” she asks, almost timidly.

“He did ask if we had any children.”

Hermione drops her head to the table with a low moan. I automatically reach over to rub her back. Doesn’t seem to be much else I can do for her right now.

“‘Mione,” I begin softly, knowing I’m about to make myself very unpopular with my wife, “I think you need to talk to him.”

Her head springs up, and my heart breaks at the fresh tears in her eyes. She shakes her head vehemently. “No, I won’t see him. I said everything I needed to a long time ago— to his headstone.”

Mum and Ginny have been sitting silently up until now— probably a record for those two. Now Mum breaks their silence. “I think Ron’s right, Hermione,” she says softly, leaning over to lay a hand on Hermione’s arm. “You’ve had such a difficult time the last few years. It might do you some good to be able to say what you’re feeling to Harry himself instead of Harry’s headstone.”

Now it’s Ginny’s turn. With the two Weasley women tag-teaming, Hermione won’t stand a chance. “How many times have we had conversations that begin with ‘If Harry were here I’d tell him...’” she asks. “If you never want to see him after the conversation, I’ll totally understand, but don’t you think he deserves to know what he’s put you through the last few years?”

The tiniest smile flickers across Hermione’s face. “The only thing Harry deserves is a swift kick in the arse,” she mumbles, then turns to look at me. “What do I tell him?”

“What do you want to tell him?”

“Oh, Ron, I don’t know,” she sighs. “I do know that if I have to have this conversation, I can’t go into it unprepared. I need time to think about what to say and how to say it. Will you help me?”

“Of course,” I say covering her hand with mine. What does she think I’ve been doing for the last 8-plus years? Then it hits me, leaving me breathless. What Hermione’s about to do, what I encouraged her to do, could make a lasting impact on my family and the life we’ve built over the last few years. Suddenly I want to change my mind, tell her not to talk to Harry, then go to him and tell him she wants him out of her life for good.

But then I look into her eyes and see something I haven’t seen there in the longest time— the faintest glimmer of hope. And I realize that I still want the same thing I’ve always wanted— her happiness. And if talking to Harry, getting closure for the way he left her, is what it takes for her to move forward, I can help her through it.

The back door bursts open and the kitchen is filled with cold air and red-heads.

“Dad, you’re here,” James runs to me excitedly. “Uncle Fred and Uncle George let me play Seeker and Uncle Draco let me fly his broom, and it’s so fast, Dad! Can I get one like it for my birthday?” He pauses for breath and I glance at Hermione, who has pinned Draco to the wall with her glare. He grins, shrugs, and moves to stand behind Ginny. Right, like that’s going to save him from a pissed-off Hermione. She turns from Draco to James, her expression changing remarkably in a split second.

“We’ll have to see, James. Your old broom is still plenty good,” she says, smiling. “Go get your things, we need to be going home soon.”

James runs off and Hermione turns back to Draco. “Never do that again,” she snaps. “He’s just a little boy, he doesn’t need to fly so high or fast.”

Fred steps in. “He was never in any danger, Hermione. We keep a close eye on him so we can catch him if we need to. Besides, he flies like he was born to it.”

Hermione closes her eyes and raises one hand as if to ward off further excuses. “I have enough to worry about right now without wondering how soon my son will fall off his broom. Please, keep him close to the ground, okay?”

“Sorry, Hermione,” Draco says softly. “ I guess I didn’t really think that through. I’ll make him stay on his own broom next time.”

“And you will not buy him a new one for his birthday.”

“And I will not buy him a new one for his birthday.” Draco grins sheepishly. “Well, actually, I’ll return the one I already bought.”

Mum clears her throat. “Hermione, dear, are you sure you don’t want James to stay here tonight? You and Ron have a lot to talk about, and the conversation might be easier if you don’t have to worry about interruptions or little ears overhearing.”

“She does have a point, ‘Mione,” I say.

“Are you sure you don’t mind, Molly?” Hermione asks, turning to her mother-in-law.

“Are you kidding? I love it when James stays with me. It’s been so quiet since everyone else moved out, he brings life back into the house.” There’s a loud squeal of delight as James slides down the bannister. “And noise. Noise is good.”

James bounds into the kitchen, carrying his bag. “James, how would you like to stay with Grandma again tonight?” I ask, sweeping him up into my arms.

“Yes! Can I, Mum, please?” He turns brilliant blue eyes to Hermione.

She laughs. James was the only one who could make her laugh for the longest time, and he hasn’t lost his touch. “Only if you promise to stay off Uncle Draco’s broom,” she says with mock severity. She knows she’s frightened Draco enough that it

won’t ever be an issue again. James looks at Draco, and I see a wink pass between them.

“I promise, Mum. Can I stay?”

“I suppose you can, but Dad and I need to go. If you need us for anything Grandma can Floo us.” She pulls him to her and as she hugs him I see a myriad of emotions cross her face: love, pride, patience, tolerance, fear. She only releases him when he squirms and fakes gasping for breath. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” She steps over to me, I wrap my arms around her and Apparate home with my wife.

* * *

I hate when the nightmares come. They don’t come as frequently now, but from what I can tell, the intensity hasn’t abated.

So I lie awake in my bedroom on the second floor of Grimmauld Place and listen. The nightmares come early, so I’ve learned that if I make it to midnight with no sounds from the room next door, it’s safe for me to sleep. Now, almost a month after he’s left, most nights are safe. But other nights, I hear her— the low moans, the thrashing, sometimes things she’s knocked off the nightstand, the frightened shrieks of his name... Those are the nights I go to her room and gather her into my arms. After all, I didpromise Harry that I’d take care of her.

I’ve learned that it’s impossible to wake her from these dreams, so I do all I can— hold her close and whisper to her softly until the worst of it has passed. She cries at the end, great wracking sobs that leave us both breathless. Sometimes I cry, too. It’s the very fact that we don’t know where Harry is or what he’s doing that bothers us so much. We don’t know whether he’s dead or alive and it kills us both. The first few times, I tried to shake her out of them, but my attempts were in vain; she never wakes during any of the nightmares, no matter how sore I know her throat must be after screaming and crying like she does. I wonder if it’s because subconsciously she can’t bear to deal with the dream when it’s that fresh in her mind. Whatever the reason, after the nightmare runs its course, she sleeps deeply, peacefully.

While she sleeps, I lie awake and watch her, gently stroking her cheek or her hair. This is the only time she is ever truly calm anymore. It shows on her face. In the morning, dark circles will show beneath her eyes and her usually rosy cheeks are pallid. But after the nightmares, when she slips into a state of wonderful euphoria, the look on her face is of utmost happiness. The way her lashes lie in dark, wet triangles against her skin; the way the light from the candle plays across her hair, bringing out golden highlights, the delicate tracks the drying tears have left on her cheeks, all surpassed by the sweet smile on her lips as she breathes deeply. I hold her tight against me until I can see the first light of dawn shimmering through the window. Then I slip out, as silently as I came, and return to my own room.

We’ve never talked about those nights she spends in my arms. I’m not even sure she knows I’m there. I tell myself that someday I’ll stay until she wakes. Someday, she’ll wake up after one of the dreams and find me there. Maybe if that happens I can tell her how I feel; lying there in the quiet dark I can tell her that I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember. A very small, very selfish part of me dreads the day the nightmares end for good, because then I’ll have no excuse to be where I want to be more than anyplace else— holding her in my arms. Realistically, I know she can’t move forward with anyone until she’s dealt with the past, and she hasn’t dealt with the past until the nightmares stop. I hope that when that happens I’ll have the courage to tell her. Until then, I’ll lie awake nights, listening for her and going when I’m needed.

I hate when the nightmares come.

6. Changes

A/N: All right... Thanks to everyone who reviewed! (I got about half of what I had last time. Come on people! I’m just kdding. :D) Yeah, anyway, erm... For those of you that hate Ron and Hermione, be relieved. This is a Harry chapter. *WoOt* So, read and enjoy and review! (Pleeeeeeeease?) Much thanks. ;)

~~ Harry ~~

Chapter 6:

Changes

“I’m not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don’t know where I am

I wish that I could move, but I’m exhausted and nobody understands

I’m trying hard to breath now, but there’s no air in my lungs

There’s no one here to talk to, and the pain inside is making me numb

I try to hold this under control

They can’t help me

‘Cause nobody knows

Now I’m going through changes, changes

God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes
I'm feeling weak and weary walking through this world alone
Everything you say, every word of it, cuts me to the bone
I've got something to say, but now I've got no where to turn
It feels like I've been buried underneath all the weight of the world
I try to hold this under control
They can't help me

'Cause no one knows
Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes
I'm running, shaking
Bound and breaking

I hope I make it

Through all these changes”

‘Changes’

—3 Doors Down

I lazily push my fork around in the long ruined shepherd’s pie and take another drink of Firewhiskey. I’ve been sitting here, drinking, staring at my hands for the last two hours, just soaking in everything that Ron said to me earlier. What did you expect us to do, clap you on the back and say ‘Welcome home, mate?’

And I guess in some strange way I did.

I look over to the darkest corner of the pub where Justin and Colin are sitting with their heads together, talking quietly. What else don’t I know about this new life? What else has changed since I alienated myself from the only home I ever knew... Speaking of home... The Burrow! I haven’t seen Arthur since... Well, since last night... But we didn’t get to talk then. I think I’ll swing by there and see how they’re doing.

I throw my money on the table and sweep out of The Snitch into the Apparating Alley.

The Burrow spins into focus and I knock on the door. Molly opens it and gasps. “Oh, Harry!” She sweeps me into a bone crushing hug. “I was wondering when you would be stopping by!” She pushes me away quite suddenly. “Harry! Where in bloody hell have you been all these years? Oh...” She smiles. “Never mind that!” She hugs me again, and, I swear, just broke three ribs. “You’re home now! Oh!” She gives me one last squeeze and leads me over to the table. “Are you hungry? Oh, dear, you look so thin! Haven’t you eaten over the last eight years?”

I shrug. “I was always small for my age, Molly.”

She waves her wand and potatoes start peeling themselves. “I was just about to start dinner for Arthur and myself when—”

“Grandma!” The door flies open and in walk Ginny, Draco Malfoy, and a small, red-headed boy. “Grandma! Guess what!”

“Malfoy...” I hiss, standing.

Ginny pats me on the shoulder. “We call him Draco since he’s going to be part of the family soon...” She grins wickedly at me.

Damn it... I forgot about them being engaged. But... That means... Poor Ron. Draco will be his brother-in-law.

Whoa. Hold up. Stop. Poor Ron? Poor Ron? Poor Ron my arse! He married Hermione. Let him have all the evil brothers-in-law he can stand! But... I do feel bad about the party last night. “Hey, about last night, Gin,” I sigh. “I’m sorry for... hijacking your engagement party. I just wanted to come back at a time when I thought the spotlight might not be on me for a change.”

She laughs. “It’s fine, Harry, and I hate to break it to you, but there’s never going to be a time when the spotlight’s not on you. You’re Harry Potter. You’re The-Boy-Who-Lived!”

I nod. “Yeah... Don’t remind me...” The little boy is jabbering excitedly to Molly. “Erm... Ginnny...” I mutter into her ear. “I didn’t know you and Draco had kids...”

She scoffs. “Oh, he’s not mine. I’m his aunt!”

“Uncle Draco let me get sprinkles!” The boy exclaims as Molly removes his snow covered garments. “The rainbow kind! Dad never lets me get sprinkles...” He purses his lips and thinks. “Mum says it’s because he’s cheap.” The Boy sweeps his eyes over the kitchen and I see them land on me. He tilts his head to the side and walks over to me. He looks up at me and stares for a second before he speaks. “Who are you?” he asks, brightly.

Okay... I wasn’t expecting this. This is definitely new. Someone who doesn’t know who I am? Wow... “Erm... I’m Harry.”

“Oh.” He stares straight at me. “Harry who?”

I shove my hands in my pocket. It’s sad that a six-year-old can make me nervous. “Err... Harry Potter.”

A look of acknowledgment dawns on the child’s face. “Ohh...” He nods. “I don’t think my mum likes you very much.”

What is this kid talking about? “Uhh... Sorry?” Excellent comeback, Potter. That’ll really show him. I grab Ginny’s arm and pull her over to me. “Gin, is there anything you might have forgotten to tell me?”

She stifles the laughter long enough to squeak out, “No... What did you have in mind?”

“Oh... You know... Maybe one of your brothers marrying Cho Chang.”

Ginny laughs. “Cho? Look, I hate to break it to you, Harry, but she wasn’t the only one who didn’t like you.”

“But... But... But...” I slump into my chair.

“Shut it, Potter!” Malfoy retorts from behind me. “Honestly, you sound like one of those Muggle motorboats. I’d best be getting off, love.” I hear him kiss Ginny. “Molly...” See him hug Molly out of the corner of my eye. “Potter,” he says, curtly, and there’s a pop as he Disapparates.

Molly motions to the boy. “Ginny, why don’t you take him on upstairs and get him ready for bed. I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in, dear.”

“Okay, Grandma!” The Boy says, kisses Molly’s cheek, and follows Ginny up the stairs. “Goodnight, Harry Potter!” He waves to me and climbs the stairs with Ginny at his heels.

“Lovely child...” I sigh.

“Ahh, well...” Molly serves the boiled potatoes and steak and kidney pie with a flick of her wand. “I expect Arthur and I, well, and his aunts and uncles have spoiled him. He’s the eldest grandchild, you know.”

“There are more?” I ask through a full mouth. I’m eaten almost half of what she gave me.

“Yes... Two younger than him,” Molly says, her eyes full of pride. “Hilaree and Charlotte, Charlie’s twins. They’ll be two this summer.”

I sigh contentedly. “I did miss your cooking these past years.” I stand. “Thank you for dinner, Molly, I—”

She stands in front of me with her hands on her hips. “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Erm...” I point to the door. “Back to the Leaky Cauldron?”

She shakes her head. “It’s absolute nonsense! You can stay here, of course! I don’t know why you didn’t come last night! It’s not like we haven’t got the room!” She lights a candle and leads me up the stairs to the room that Ron and I shared all of my summers here. “Well...” She hands me the candle. “You know where everything is, Harry, and if you need anything, well, don’t be afraid to ask Ginny or me.” She hugs me again. “Oh, it’s good to have you back, Harry Potter.”

I nod. “It’s good to be back, Molly.”

She winks at me and heads down the hall to what I guess to be The Boy’s room. I can’t put my finger on it, but something about the child seems strangely familiar... Something about the way he smiles and the way his red hair falls into his eyes. His sense of humor and the sense of logic that permeates from his young mind.

The realization hits me suddenly as Ginny walks past, flinging her hair off her shoulder. “Gin!” I call to her, running to the door.

“Yeah, Harry?” she asks, stopping in front of me.

“That little boy... What’s his name?”

“James. Oh...” She looks like she wasn’t supposed to tell me that.

“Is he... Is he... Ron and Hermione’s?” I bite my lip, impatiently awaiting her answer.

Ginny sighs and I can see her fighting internally with herself. “Y... Yes,” she whispers finally and takes the stairs two at a time on her descent.

* * *

27 July

Dearest Hermione,

This is a letter you will never read. I never intend for anyone to see it and since I can’t send it to you, I’ll just have to carry it around in my pocket until I come back. The only reason I’m writing a letter is to give my hands something to do. It’s been murder this last month without you, love. I can’t wait to go back home to you.

Things really aren’t bad here. Well, not as bad as you might think. I can’t tell you where we are in case this letter falls into the wrong hands. Just know that I am safe and that’s all that matters. I hope you and Ron are well. Know that I never meant to hurt you by leaving, Hermione. You know I would have stayed... But I know you understand, so we’ll not get into that.

Voldemort is running. He doesn’t want to do battle yet. I wish he’d just grow a backbone (but that’s kind of hard for a snake, isn’t it?) and get it over with. I can see your face, dearest... You’re smiling. I love it when you smile.

Strange... I keep talking about Voldemort or the War and always end up coming right back to you. Well, I think it’s safe to say, Hermione Jane Granger, I am mad about you. There’s never a time when I don’t think about you. Never a night that I don’t dream about you. Sometimes I swear that I can still taste you... Maybe it’s just a cruel trick that my imagination is playing on me. Darling, I’ll always remember your taste. You taste of rain and vanilla. Strange combination, I’ll admit, but somehow it works for you, love.

Listen to how poetic I’m getting! I believe you have softened me! Now you’re laughing. How I miss that laugh! Thinking back on our seven years together, I realize just how stupid I was to ignore all the signs. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I knew I loved you in fifth year. In the Department of Mysteries. That bastard hit you with the curse... God, I’ll never forget the look on your face as you sank to the ground with a hand on your cheek and your lips parted in that tiny ‘O’ of surprise. It felt like my heart was going to beat through my chest then, Hermione. And I knew that I couldn’t live without you then. I knew that I’d die to protect you.

I knew in sixth year... When you dated Ron... I knew that I’d never have a chance. I knew that you loved him. So, when I saw the warning signs, I started looking for excuses. I couldn’t get too close to anyone for fear of Voldemort discovering them. Then I knew at Christmas... Ron was going to visit Charlie with his parents and you were planning on going with him... But then you lied and said that you really needed to study for the N.E.W.T.’s. But you really stayed for me... And we almost had our first snog on the couch in the common room on Christmas Eve... But you... You were far too noble to do that to Ron. He’d been good to you, after all... Never done anything to hurt you. You couldn’t betray him like that. But I knew then that you knew.

When he came back, you carried on for a while like nothing had happened. Then, one day, he came to me and asked me if I loved you.

Well, what was I supposed to do, ‘Mione? Lie to him? Yeah, right...So I just told him. I told him everything I felt about you. Told him everything I’d ever even thought about. And do you know what he said, ‘Mione? He said, ‘You love her more than I ever could. And she loves you. She always has.’ Wasn’t that nice, Hermione?

Well, suffice it to say, I went running to the library and found you sitting there. I took your ink-stained, calloused hand and led you out to the beech tree by the lake. I could tell you were a little bit confused. But I didn’t care. I just confessed everything. I didn’t care if you thought I was completely nutters. I just wanted you. Do you remember what you did then? You just threw your arms around my neck and kissed me. That was our first kiss. We went from there. I knew it had to be hard for Ron, but after he and Luna started dating, I guess he really didn’t mind all that much.

Then this past year... You were all that kept me going, love. You were my rock of Gibraltar. I never would have gotten through it all without you. All the late night chats in the common room. One of my favorite memories of you is the first time I woke up with you in my arms. You had your head buried into my shoulder and your arms wrapped around my chest. It almost seemed like we were made to fit together like that. Like our bodies were contoured to one another. It was amazing how you could throw your legs across my lap and nestle your head into my chest and we’d both be comfortable. Anyway, we must have been. We slept that way many times.

How I long for those days again, Hermione. You can’t know how much I love you. In fact, I don’t even think I know how much I love you. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over this past month, love. I think that we can’t possibly feel how much we love the people we love because our bodies just can’t handle it. If we felt all those feelings, we’d die. We couldn’t survive knowing how much we love people. We become immune to it. Obviously, I know that I love you. I know that I want to be with you forever... But what constitutes that? How do I know that? There are some questions for ‘Hermione-the-Great’ to ponder and write essays about. I can see you grinning, love. Grinning through tears. Don’t cry, darling. Please don’t cry. It makes me want to be there even more.

I can’t think of anything else to tell you, dear heart. So, do you remember primary school?

Harry loves Hermione.

Harry Potter loves Hermione Granger.

Harry James Potter loves Hermione Jane Granger.

I love Hermione.

I love her.

I love you.

Yeah... I like that last one. I love you... I love you... I love you... I love you.

With all my love always,

Harry

7. Paradise

K... Thanks to all who reviewed! (And to those who didn’t, thanks for reading!) :D Erm... Yeah. Anyway, thanks to my beta (masterly), Jennza...

One part of this, I had to use the movie, because there is no canon for it, but it works. Nothing major... It works.

And for all of you people that hate Hermione... Well... Then I think this chapter will make you hate her even more... Trust me... Everything will be explained in due time. So, read, enjoy, and review! Thanks.

Chapter Seven:

Paradise

“Once upon a year gone by
She saw herself give in
Every time she closed her eyes
She saw what could have been
Well, nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
When covers tucked in tight
Funny when the bottom drops
How she forgets to fight... to fight

And it's one more day in paradise
One more day in paradise

As darkness quickly steals the light
That shined within her eyes
She slowly swallows all her fear
And soothes her mind with lies
Well all she wants and all she needs
Are reasons to survive
A day in which the sun will take
Her artificial light... her light

And it's one more day in paradise
One more day in paradise
It's one more day in paradise
One last chance to feel all right ... all right

Don't pretend to hold it in just let it out
Don't pretend to hold it in just push it out
Don't you try to hold it in just let it out and
Don't you try to hold it in you hold it in”

‘Paradise’

—Vanessa Carlton

I really hate it when Ron is right.

And I know he is. Especially about this. I love Ron. I really do, but Harry... Harry was my first love, and how can I compare Ron with that? I’m sure you’re wondering how I could have loved Ron so soon after Harry left... Yeah, well, you’re asking the wrong person here, because I have no bloody idea, either. Oh, sure, there was a silly little crush on Ron in fourth year... And the few times we dated in sixth... But that was it. And I always loved Harry. It was ingrained into my very soul. He was ingrained into my very soul. I saw him not as a savior to the wizarding world, but a savior to myself. Only he could pull me from my shell. He was the only one that I could ever tell my deepest secrets to, the only one I could ever really confide in apart from my mother. I know he must have gotten tired of all the tearful talks we had in our common room, but he never belittled me or made me feel dumb. He was always there to hold me and I can’t remember how many mornings I would wake and find myself still embraced in his arms. Soon, I knew every comfortable crevice of his body. I knew where I could bury my head into his chest and breathe in his deep scent. He smelled of all my favorite fragrances. Wind and rain and grass and Quidditch... And myself... And... Just Harry.

After he left, Ron moved into Harry’s room for the last week of school. We needed each other. We couldn’t bear to think of our best friend fighting Voldemort. I suppose I must have secluded myself from everyone else, even more so than usual. I felt so alone... Ron finally told me that I wasn’t the only one going through the loss of a best friend and we clung to each other for support. That was the first time after Harry left that Ron was right.

“Hermione?” I feel him shaking my shoulder. “Hermione... Love, wake up.”

God, what is with him waking me up lately? Aren’t I the human alarm clock? Usually I’m up and at work by 6:00. “What?”

“It’s 6:30, ‘Mione. We both overslept.”

I open my eyes and see him getting dressed in front of the closet. “Yeah, well...” I blink and sit up lazily. “Hey, where are you going?”

Ron is never up before I am unless he’s being called away. “Work.”

“What this time?” I throw the blankets off my legs and stretch.

He shrugs. “We don’t know. Some strange happenings in Kent.” He kisses me. “Don’t worry, dearest. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll tell them that I’ll stay and do the paperwork, so I’ll be near if you need me, okay?” He turns back to the mirror and straightens his tie. “When are you going to talk to Harry?”

I shrug. “Tonight? I don’t know...” I need Ron’s direction. Possibly now more than ever before. “Tell me what to do.”

He sighs and turns to face me. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last eight years?”

I hate it when he gets like this. “You don’t understand, Ron. I need you... to tell me... what to do.” My voice wavers and I try very hard to swallow the lump in my throat.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. “I can’t. You’ll know when the time is right. Now,” He glances at his watch. “I have to get going. I might not be home tonight. Will you be all right?”

I nod.

“I love you,” he says gently.

“I...” It’s all I can do to not let the angry tears fall as he kisses me on my cheek and walks out the door.

* * *

My bookshop is located right across the street from Gringotts, making it extremely convenient for me to run and make my deposits during lunch. I know everyone expected me to run straight out from school and be an auror or a mediwitch or something like that, but no matter how much I love school and learning, my true passion is books, so it was only natural for me to start my own bookstore. I aptly named it The Book Junkie* after a conversation with Ron in which he called me a... book junkie.

My store is different than Flourish and Blots, because not only do I specialize in spell books, but I also carry a vast assortment of Muggle novels. There is so much excellent literature out there and the wizarding world has no idea. My favorite customers are the young witches that come in and have never been introduced to Muggle books before. I usually offer them my list of authors. It’s comprised of classic authors, of course, but there are quite a few contemporary writers on the list as well. I just love the written word.

I arrive at the store at 6:57, almost a full hour late. Ginny is sitting on the steps, clutching a white paper sack, and two cups of coffee sit beside her. She stands as she sees me coming and I apologize. “It’s all right... We’ll just have to zap the coffee with some heating charms!” she laughs and the bell tinkles as we walk into the dark shop.

I wave my wand to light the candles, (they wouldn’t let me have electricity) and dig into the bag that Ginny brought. “Yum...” I mutter, biting into a cream cheese danish. My favorite. Ginny knows me all too well.

We eat in silence and as I flip the door sign to ‘open’ at precisely seven o’clock, Ginny clears her throat. “Harry stayed at the Burrow last night...” she says, nervously.

“Did he?” I ask, flipping through my order book and digging through a box that just arrived via Owl Post.

She nods. “Yeah. Erm... Look, Hermione... He... He saw James.”

My stomach freezes, but I take a sip of coffee and cross off a book title. “And?” I say, calmly.

Ginny sighs and adjusts her robes. “He asked me if you and Ron were his parents.”

I never look up at her, though I am seething. “And?”

“And I told him his name.”

How dare she! “And?”

“Well, bloody hell, Hermione!” she throws up her hands in frustration. “I mean, it’s—”

The bell above the door tinkles and Ginny slumps into her stool behind the counter.

“Hello, Mrs. Hyatt!” I greet one of my regular customers. “What can I help you with today?”

* * *

I usually have lunch with either Ron or Ginny, but today, I’ve decided to run to Gringotts and withdraw some money for dinner tonight. I put my ‘out to lunch’ sign on the door, lock it, and make my way across the street. I pull the bank door open and step into the marble hall.

Gringotts got rid of the goblins about five years ago, and no one was happier than I was. Never really trusted the goblins... Something about the way they looked at me. After the goblins were dismissed, Neville Longbottom was hired as the first CEO of Gringotts and he’s done an excellent job so far.

I walk up to his counter and he greets me with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, Hermione. Are you depositing or withdrawing?”

“Withdrawing,” I answer and start digging around in my purse for my key. I reach to the very bottom and feel a crumpled piece of paper.

“Will this come from your joint account?” Neville asks, preparing to take a cart to the vault.

I re-read the piece of paper, though I memorized it long ago. “No...” I pull the tiny golden key from the parchment and hand it to him as an idea worms its way through my brain. “This comes from Vault 687.”

Neville checks the key and gapes at me. “But... Hermione, this is—”

“I know,” I reply shortly, egging the worm on.

“But...” He sighs. “Isn’t—?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“But... Hermione, you do know that only certain people are allowed to draw from this account, right? It was turned over to—”

I clear my throat and flatten the parchment on the counter. “As you can see in this line right here,” I indicate said line. “I have permission from The Order of the Phoenix to access these funds when I deem it necessary and...” I lean towards him and narrow my eyes. “ I—DEEM—IT—NECESSARY!” I hiss through gritted teeth.

Neville’s eyes widen and he nods. “Erm... Do I need to Floo Ron?”

I lean closer, jabbing my finger at the paper. “Do you see his name on that paper? Don’t. Think. So. Take me to the vault. Now.” Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a little bit vicious. But I’ve had to be in order to hold my own with Ron Weasley and company over the years.

Neville nods nervously and leads me to a cart. When we arrive at the Vault, he unlocks and opens the door. Stacks of gold, piles of silver, and heaps of bronze sit in front of me. And it’s all mine. “H... How much would you like?” Neville stutters and pulls a quill from his robes.

I mull it over in my mind. Of course... The worm stops. I grin wickedly. “All of it.”

Okay, I feel an interjection must be made here. I’m not obsessed with money in any sense. And I’m not going to spend it. Really. I only want it so he can’t have it.

“What?” he gapes. “‘Mione... There has to be...” He scribbles on his paper. “Well, there’s... A lot of money in there.”

“I know. I And I want it all delivered to Number 12 Grimmauld Place at three o’clock this afternoon,” I reply sweetly. “Got it?” I ask in my best McGonagall voice.

He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Erm... Is that all?”

I smile. “Yes, I think that’s about it. Thanks, Neville!” I climb back into the cart and sigh contentedly. Sometimes I’m too smart for my own good.

* * *

Ron sinks onto the ground beside me. “Hey, ‘Mione...”

“Hi,” I reply quietly, not tearing my eyes away from the shimmering surface of the lake.

“How are you doing?”

I shrug. “The same.” I pull my knees to my chest and let my limp hair fall in my face to hide the tears that never seem to stop anymore.

I feel his hand on my shoulder. “Did you talk to Madame Pomfrey?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“And?” He presses.

Really can’t take a hint, can you, Ron? “Anemia.” You’d think my monosyllabic answers would clue him in. I want to be left alone to deal with my grief.

“Oh. Did she give you something?” he asks gently.

I throw him the potion. Merlin, why can’t I stop the tears?

“Are you sure you’re all right, ‘Mione?” he whispers, leaning up to me and pulling me into a hug.

I pull away from him, sink against the tree trunk and the tears fall harder. “Harry’s... I mean, it’s been a month, Ron.” Who’s controlling my mouth? Definitely not me.

“Yeah...”

“What am I going to do without him?” Why in bloody hell am I telling him this? “You’re my best friend, Ron, but—” Oh, question answered.

“But you love Harry...” He sighs resignedly. “You know, ‘Mione... We had a good relationship last year.”

“Yeah,” I answer, pulling my knees in tighter to my chest. Why is he bringing all this up? Another ‘why’... Is this what the rest of my life’s going to be? Why’s and what if’s?

“But he loved you more... He always has. There was nothing I could do to change that.” He picks at the grass in between his knees.

I shrug. What does he expect me to say? ‘Oh, well, my boyfriend’s dead. I guess you’ll do.’ “I’m scared, Ron.”

He jerks his head toward me. He didn’t expect that... How could have he? I wasn’t expecting it. “What?”

I feel that familiar lump in my throat swell. “If H-Harry hasn’t k-killed V-Voldemort... And if V-Voldemort k-knows about m-me... He’ll come after us.”

Ron pulls me toward him and kisses my forehead. “God, ‘Mione... I’d never let anything happen to you. Ever. If Harry... And I’m not saying that he’s dead... But, if something should happen to him...” He pulls my chin up and stares into my eyes. “I will always protect you no matter what. I promised Harry that much.”

I frown up at him. “Ron, no offense, but if Harry can’t protect me, how can you? Harry’s one of the most powerful wizards around.”

I see a flash of hurt in his eyes. Great, the only friend I have left and I’ve just insulted him. “I may not be as powerful as Harry,” he says softly, “but ‘Mione, I’m here. I’d die before I’d let anyone hurt you.”

With his words, the hurt fades and now I see resolve in his eyes. Suddenly I feel safer than I have in the last month.

I settle against him and try to imagine that it’s Harry. It’s all I can do.

* The Book Junkie is my beta’s brainchild. So, you know... I don’t own that either...

8. Behind Blue Eyes

All righty then.. Tuesday comes so quickly any more! And we’re already up to chapter eight... Anyway... I just want to thank you all for reading and reviewing. (And to those who didn’t, keep reading anyway!) Erm... Someone mentioned that not much happened in the last chapter... I know and I really hate that we’re in this lull right now, but next week, things should start heating up a bit... Actually, it might start here... It depends on how you look at it. Again, I wanna thank my beta, Jennza... *tumultuous applause* So, you know, I own nothing. Read, enjoy, and review! :) (Oh, before I forget... You guys get a cookie from the next chapter! Isn’t that nice? Heehee... Enjoy! It’s right at the bottom.)

Chapter Eight:

Behind Blue Eyes

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

“But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

“I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

“No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you

“No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

‘Behind Blue Eyes’

—The Who

The owl came about an hour ago. When I read it, I headed straight for The Book Junkie. Did our talk last night mean anything to her or did she completely disregard everything I told her?

I find her sitting behind the counter, deeply immersed in a new novel, a quill in between her teeth, and her bare foot swinging rhythmically. “‘Mione...” I say softly, breaking her from her deep concentration.

“Hmm?” She looks up lazily, smiles when she sees me, and stretches. “Hey, you,” she hops down from her perch and stands in front of me. She looks up at me expectantly. She wants me to kiss her... Yeah, not good.

After we were married, she depended on me for every little thing. I had to tell her to get out of bed, to take a shower, to eat, to brush her teeth... To get dressed... You name it. It was like taking care of a baby. She couldn’t do anything for herself. Then, slowly, she began to pull herself back together. Soon, she was the one waking me up and reminding me to brush my teeth. But she wouldn’t let me love her until about two years after he was gone. When she finally did, she expected kisses or hugs whenever we were in the same room. I think it’s because she needed to feel loved so she could stop blaming herself for Harry’s death. About three years ago, she finally returned to the same Hermione that I had known back in school. Sure, there were more battle wounds (physical and emotional) but for the most part, she was every bit the annoying book worm that I’d known since I was 11.

I sigh. “Look, ‘Mione... We need to talk about this.”

She looks at me confusedly. “Talk about what? We talked about Harry last night.”

“Apparently it didn’t sink in. We need to talk.” I stare right into her eyes and speak softly.

Hermione glances at her watch. “Well, I don’t close until eight tonight and then I thought that we’d get James and go out—”

“You’ll close early,” I shrug. I can tell by the look on her face that I’m heading quickly into couch territory. “James can stay with Mum and Dad again. You know they love having him.” I cross over to the door, flip the sign to ‘closed’ and with a flick of my wand I lock the store. “We are going home... Now.” Why is she making everything so complicated?

She scoffs. “What is so bloody important that you—”

“We need to talk, Hermione. You can make this difficult, but it has to happen.”

She grabs her purse and grits her teeth. “Fine,” she spits. “Meet me there.”

* * *

I arrive right after she does and I watch as she throws her bag down and slumps into the couch. “Let’s talk.” She crosses her arms and her eyes flash dangerously.

I sigh. Not exactly the way I wanted to go about things. “Where’s the money?”

“What money?” she replies sweetly.

“The money from Harry’s Gringott’s account.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I close my eyes and count backwards from ten. “Hermione, Neville sent me an owl and told me that you went to Gringott’s this afternoon, cleaned out Harry’s bank account, and had it all sent here.”

I see a flicker of anger in her eyes. “I told you; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Okay, she’s a good actor, I’ll give her that much. “I almost believe you. And if I didn’t know you better, I would. You have to give it back.”

“I won’t!” she jumps up. “I will not! That money is mine! It has been all these years!” Her voice is quiet, but her eyes are on fire.

“And you’ve lived without it all these years! Why, ‘Mione? We don’t need it.”

“I didn’t want him to have it!” she screams.

I scoff. “Hermione, you’re acting like a child!”

“So be it,” she hisses.

She’s not telling me the whole truth. “Why?” I ask her again.

Hermione’s lip quivers and she crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I want him to know how much he’s hurt me. I want him to feel like I’ve felt the last eight years.”

I can see where she’s coming from. “What’s that, Hermione?”

She wipes away a tear. “You know... You of all people know what we went through to get to this point.”

I nod. “I do. But Harry doesn’t. You need to tell him that.”

“No.” She vehemently shakes her head. “I can’t... I won’t... The only thing I want to tell Harry Potter... Well, I want to tell him to leave and never come back into my life. I can’t take this leave for eight years back for eight days. I can’t.”

I have to fight the smile that is threatening to creep across my lips. She wants him to go away for good. Well, good for her. That means she’s finally accepted the fact that we’re going to be together forever. “Erm...” I stop, carefully choosing my words. “Well, that’s great, ‘Mione.”

We stand in awkward silence for a minute before she clears her throat. “Wh... What... Well, how should I tell him?”

I shake my head. “You’re smarter than I ever thought about being, dear heart. I think you’ll know what to say.”

“But I don’t—”

I put a finger to her lips. “Hermione... You do.” I tap her temple. “It’s all up here. Merlin knows you’ve got enough brains.”

She smiles and leans into me. “Oh, Ron... We went through so much with him.” She picks at a string on my maroon sweater.

I chuckle. “We’ve been through more with each other.” I feel the familiar burn of jealously rise in my chest. What if she goes back to him? What if she decides that she still loves him? Like she decided in sixth year. “You won’t go back to him, will you, Hermione?”

She pulls away from me suddenly, vehemently shaking her head. “Of course not! I quit loving Harry Potter years ago!”

“So you could never love him again?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Ron, please don’t—”

“Answer the question, Hermione,” I snap and immediately feel bad for being so rude, but I don’t apologize. I want an honest answer.

“We are not having this conversation!” She turns on her heel and heads up the staircase.

I follow her and when she sees me, she brushes past me and heads back down. “Hermione, just say it!”

She scoffs. “No!”

“Because you still love him.”

“I never said that!” She puts her hands on her hips and thrusts her face towards mine.

“But you won’t answer the question, so apparently you do!”

“What?”

“Erm, excuse me!” We turn to the doorway and see Ginny standing there. “Erm...” Her voice is shaky. “Look, I hate to interrupt anything... But...”

Hermione crosses over to my sister. “Is anything wrong, Ginny?”

Come to mention it, she does look a bit peaky.

“Is it James?” Hermione asks anxiously.

Ginny shakes her head. “Err... No. It’s Dad. He’s been hurt.”

* * *

Something is wrong with Hermione. Lying in the dark, I’ve realized just how much.

It has become all too obvious in the past month and a half. She eats little, when she eats at all, her color is off, and she’s spacey. Now, don’t get me wrong, Hermione has always been a bit spacey. But this isn’t nose-buried-in-a-book spacey... This is sit-in-a-chair-and-stare-at-the-wall-for-three-hours spacey. Something about Harry’s departure has almost killed her. Now, I’m not an idiot. I know that just Harry’s departure almost killed her... But there’s something else going on. She’s anemic, but nothing I can say to her can get her to eat more. Being back at Hogwarts... Well, I’m not sure that has helped any. She’ll wander around the common room, wrapped in one of Harry’s old Quidditch shirts and jeans, fingering the portraits and mumbling to herself.

I’ve been acting strangely too. Professor Dumbledore noticed that I wasn’t cracking jokes at every meal like I used to. I just shrugged. What am I supposed to do? Laugh off my best friend’s disappearance? Fat chance. But I’ve come so close to just grabbing Hermione and telling her everything I’ve felt... Am still feeling. That scene by the lake three weeks ago. That can never happen again. I came so close to telling her what I still feel for her.

There’s a part of me... A small part, but still a part, never wants Harry to return. I could make her love me then. I could convince her that she needs me. Or I could try anyway.

“Ron?” There’s a whisper and I see Hermione standing beside my bed in (well, what do you know) one of Harry’s Quidditch shirts. The moonlight illuminates her hair and she looks so innocent... So angelic standing there in front of me. “Ron, is it okay if I slide in here with you? There’s plenty of room. I used to come in here with Harry.”

I nod as she pulls back the blankets and settles in. I roll onto my side and face her. “Really? I never thought that you and Harry—”

“Once,” she says shortly, pulling the quilt up to her chin. “The night he left.”

“The Astronomy Tower?” Why in bloody hell am I asking these questions? I don’t want to know the answers... I don’t want to know about their relationship... But I do.

She nods and I see the tears start to slip down her cheeks. “I wanted to make it special...”

And what in Merlin’s name am I supposed to say to that? “Oh.” Great. Come on, change the subject... Change the subject.

“So, what about you and Luna?” she asks after controlling her tears.

“‘Mione, why are we talking about this?” I say, a bit sharper than I intended to.

She shrugs and starts to cry again. I pull her tiny frame to my larger one and just let her cry.

“What if he doesn’t come back, Ron? What then? How do I live without him?” she asks in between sobs.

Haven’t we already had this conversation? “Well... You’ll always have me. I told you, Hermione, I will never let anything happen to you. Voldemort will have to kill all of Hogwarts and me before he gets to you.”

She sniffles. “Yeah... You know, I can’t understand why they’re all so protective of me. I mean, I was— am only his girlfriend.”

I shrug. “That’s kind of been bothering me, too, ‘Mione. Maybe tomorrow we should talk to Professor Dumbledore.”

She nods and wipes away the tears. “You know... It’s sad that all I have left of Harry is this...” She indicates the shirt that’s at least three sizes too big for her.

“He’s not dead yet, ‘Mione. Stop trying to put him in the grave. We don’t know anything yet.” I stroke her hair gently.

“Exactly. We don’t know anything yet. That’s why I’m so unhappy, that’s why I throw up everything I eat.”

Merlin... I didn’t know about that. “You do? Do you make yourself do it, Hermione?”

She shakes her head. “Of course not... Madame Pomfrey says I have an ulcer. But I bet I’m dying. It always looks like she’s not telling me something.”

“Do you kind of get that feeling from everyone here?” I run a hand through my hair. “I mean, they were so adamant about us coming back to Hogwarts, yet they seem quite reluctant to tell us anything. Where Harry is... What Harry’s doing... Why they’re all so protective of you.”

“That thought... has... occurred to me... numerous... times...” She yawns.

“You know, Hermione... I think that...” But I stop as I realized she has fallen asleep on my chest. I glance at the clock. 11:27... Thirty-three more minutes until I can allow myself to slip into sleep. But somehow I trust that there won’t be a nightmare tonight.

TEASER

I speak softly. “I’ll watch James for you.”

I glance over at Ron and see him looking at me with an intensity that I’m not used to from him. I stare back impassively, waiting for him to pass a verdict. Somehow, it feels like there’s a lot riding on this stare-down. Finally, he nods once, decisively, and I see a flicker of something—pain? fear? and something that looks strangely like satisfaction—in his eyes. He turns to Hermione and takes her hand, raises it to his lips. “Leave James with Harry, Hermione. They’ll be okay. After all,” he grins, “how much damage can James cause in a couple of hours?”

She jerks away and glares at him. Ahh... Trouble in paradise? “It’s not James I’m worried about, Ronald.” She shifts her eyes to me. “All right. But just this once. And just because there’s no alternative.”

(Are you excited yet? Are you? Are you? Heehee... You’ll find out soon enough... :D)

9. I'm Going Slightly Mad

A/N: K... I’m gonna say this now... It MAY not happen at all, but the way it looks now, it’s inevitable. The updates may become... erm... Farther apart. You guys have almost caught up to me... I’ve just been so busy lately that I haven’t had much time to write. I was about five chapters ahead of you when I posted the first three and now I’m only two, so I’m telling you, my updates will probably be quite sporadic until I can get ahead again. Yeah, so moving on...

Much thanks to everyone who reviewed and to my brilliant beta... You rock! Thanks to Meg/Mel/Lily who listened (for my insanity’s sake) when I had mad plot bunnies... (Meg/Mo/Herm-Own-Ninny *hearts* you, right CECIL?)

And I still own nothing...

Chapter Nine:

I’m Going Slightly Mad

“I’m one card short of a full deck
I’m not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
I’m not my usual top billing
I’m coming down with a fever
I’m really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think I’m a banana tree
Oh dear

“I’m going slightly mad
I’m going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - uh huh
It finally happened
I’m slightly mad
Oh dear”

‘I’m Going Slightly Mad’

—Queen

It’s been a bad day all around. First off, I went to Gringotts to withdraw some money and it was all gone. All of it. My vault was dusty, dry and empty, not a single Knut growing dust bunnies in a corner. Neville stuttered something about nothing improper going on, said I need to talk to Dumbledore. So I had to go all the way to France just to get my hands on some money. Yeah... That’s what I thought. But it couldn’t stop there, oh no! Rita Skeeter had to corner me a get an exclusive interview. I told her to sod off, so there’ll probably be a nasty article about me in tomorrow morning’s paper. Like I’d tell Rita anything when I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Hermione yet. When I finally got home—er, back to the Burrow—Molly had just gotten an owl telling her that Arthur had been hurt on one of his raids. She cried a little but then got angry. ‘I’ve been telling him that he’s too old to be doing this!’ she ranted to Ginny and me. We Flooed all of the Weasleys except for Ron and Hermione. Their fireplace was blocked—something about James playing with the Floo powder—so Ginny went over to their house. Now, all of us, minus Molly, are sitting around the kitchen table just waiting for news and trying to keep busy.

“We should be there...” Fred says suddenly.

“For Dad...” George adds.

“And Mum...” Ron agrees.

Hermione is sitting across from Ron with her arms crossed. She really doesn’t look happy. Sigh. Have I seen her look happy once since I’ve been back? No, don’t believe I have. Maybe she’s miserable with Ron. Maybe when the shock of my return wears off... Or maybe she looks miserable because I’m back. Yeah, it’s probably that one.

Finally she speaks up. “You should all go to St. Mungo’s. I’ll stay here and wait for word.”

Ron rubs his forehead. “I’d really like for you to be with us, ‘Mione. We—I need you to be there.”

She looks across the table and her face softens. She reaches across for his hand. “Ron,” she says softly, “you know how much I care about Arthur. It’s not that I don’t want to go, but we can’t take James. You know children aren’t allowed in the Critical Care wards.”

At the mention of his name, James perks up. “I can stay by myself, Mum. It’s almost my birthday, you know,” he says authoritatively. God, he sounds so much like Hermione that it hurts. I always thought Hermione would have my sons. We both wanted a big family—guess Ron changed her mind on that one.

Hermione suppresses a smile. “Of course I know it’s almost your birthday. Still, I’d feel more comfortable if you weren’t alone tonight.”

James considers this seriously for a moment, then his face lights up. “I can stay with Harry Potter! He probably shouldn’t be alone, either.” He looks so pleased with himself that I can see Hermione struggling for a way to let him down easily.

“That’s really not a good idea, James,” she says slowly. “See, Harry’s not terribly... responsible. I’d rather leave you with someone I trust. Besides, we can’t expect Harry to inconvenience himself just for us.”

OUCH. I know I’m not her favorite person right now, far from it, it fact, but it is a family emergency. And I’m pretty sure that I, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, can handle one small child for a couple of hours.

“I don’t mind.” I speak up. “You need to be with your... family, Hermione. Let me do this for you.” My eyes plead with her to understand that I want to do this. I want to show her that no matter what she thinks of me, I still care about her. I want her to see me as the good guy here.

“Heh...” she snorts. “Right. Good one, Harry! Let’s get serious, who am I going to leave James with?”

“I’m serious, Hermione.” I speak softly. “I’ll watch James for you.”

I glance over at Ron and see him looking at me with an intensity that I’m not used to from him. I stare back impassively, waiting for him to pass a verdict. Somehow, it feels like there’s a lot riding on this stare-down. Finally, he nods once, decisively, and I see a flicker of something—pain? fear? and something that looks strangely like satisfaction—in his eyes. He turns to Hermione and takes her hand, raises it to his lips. “Leave James with Harry, Hermione. They’ll be okay. After all,” he grins, “how much damage can James cause in a couple of hours?”

She jerks away and glares at him. Ahh... Trouble in paradise? “It’s not James I’m worried about, Ronald.” She shifts her eyes to me. “All right. But just this once. And just because there’s no alternative.”

* * *

I should have known by that smirk that Malfoy and Ron exchanged... I should have known when Fred and George patted me on the back and nodded solemnly... I should have known by the way Ginny pointed me to the First Aid supplies... I should have known... But I didn’t.

So, now I’m chasing a Mini-Ron around the Burrow, blindly waving my wand and yelling ‘Reparo’ as he breaks things. We’ve been up and down the stairs—all the stairs, from basement to attic—at least fifteen times and I am exhausted. I sink into the couch, lean my head back, close my eyes, and desperately try to catch my breath. I’m tensed up, waiting for the next crash, when I feel James bounce up beside me. He stops. “James?” I say wearily, not bothering to open my eyes.

No answer.

“James?” I open my eyes and find myself staring straight into his. “Holy shit!”

He claps a hand to his mouth and widens his eyes. “Umm! You said a bad word!”

“What?” Oh...

“I’m telling my mummy you said a bad word in front of me!” He shakes his head. “I don’t think she’ll like that very much.” He considers me seriously. “Then again, she’d probably expect something like that from an inconsiderate prat like you.”

What? Where does he get this stuff? “Urm... what did you just call me?”

“Inconsiderate prat. That’s what my dad calls you. One of the nicer things he calls you.” James grins mischievously. “Mum really won’t like it when I tell her you taught me shit.”

I can’t have him telling Hermione about that... “Look, James... If you don’t tell your mum, I’ll... I’ll...” I bite my lip, desperately thinking of what might please him.

He starts bouncing up and down. I swear, the child cannot stay still. “It’s going to be my birthday.”

“Really?” I ask. Well, at least he’s not running to tattle... Or running, period. And he’s changed the subject, so maybe Hermione won’t be washing both our mouths out with soap.

“Yep!” he answers gleefully, still bouncing. “What are you getting me?”

Well, who said I was getting you anything? “Erm...” Think, Harry, think! What did you want when you were six years old? “A teddy bear.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Teddy bears are for babies!” He keeps bouncing. “What are you getting me?”

“Er...” I purse my lips and think some more. What did Dudley have that I always wanted? “A racecar.”

He actually stops bouncing and stares at me. “Racecars are for babies! What are you getting me?”

Come on, Harry, this is Hermione’s kid we’re talking about. “I know! You’ll love it. I’ll get you a book.”

The look he gives me is so scathing I want to shrink away from him. “A book?”

He asks, incredulously.

“Hogwarts... A History. It’s was always Her... your mum’s favourite.”

He sits back, still giving me that Look. “Why in bloody hell would I want a book?"

“James!”

He looks terribly guilty for a moment, then grins up at me, a lopsided, gap-toothed grin, and at that moment he’s so cute that my heart hurts for what might have been.

“Oops.” He says, then shrugs. “Well, we’re even now. I won’t tell on you and you won’t tell on me. Will you?” he looks up at me with huge, worried eyes, eyes that almost seem to change color as I watch, shifting from blue to brown to... green? No, surely it was a trick of the light.

“So what are you really getting me for my birthday?” James asks, snapping me out of my reverie.

Hmm... “What do you want?” Now, that was good. Why didn’t I think of that before?

He grins. “A broom.”

I look over to the corner. “But... you already... have a... broom...”

“That one is for babies!” He sighs. “And Mum enchanted it so that it only goes four feet off of the ground and how am I supposed to play Quidditch four feet off of the ground?” James begins bouncing again.

The kid has a point. Wait a minute... If James is really as spoiled as Molly said, then why hasn’t someone already bought him a broom? But... Hermione hates flying. “James, what does your Mum think about you getting a broom?”

“She loves the idea!” He nods fervently.

“Oh... Well, then, don’t you think that she and your dad will get you one?” I ask him.

James’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No!” He leans towards me. “Now, don’t tell them that I told you this but, I don’t think they have very much money.”

So that’s where the money from my Gringott’s vault went. She’s been using it to live on all these years... Merlin... I make a mental note to transfer some money to the London branch in case she needs it. “I see.”

"My birthday party's Friday!" He continues bouncing.

I smile. “I’m aware of that.”

“You coming?”

“Well... James, isn’t it about your bedtime?”

“CATCH ME!” James hops up and starts running around. I stand up and start jogging around. After about fifteen minutes of this, I collapse into a chair and close my eyes.

There’s a pop in the kitchen and I hear Hermione walk into the living room. “Harry! James!” She grabs the red-haired streak as he runs across the living room and she points upstairs. “Harry, why is James still up? It’s hours past his bedtime!”

I don’t open my eyes. It hurts too badly. “Too... tired... to... fight.” I could swear that I just heard Hermione muffle a laugh, but I don’t mind. At least she’s laughing.

* * *

I sit upright in my hospital bed, jam my glasses on my face, and wipe the perspiration from my forehead.

“Hello, Mr. Potter.” Professor Dumbledore is sitting beside my bed with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Hermione... Is Hermione all right?” I ask hurriedly.

He half-smiles at me. “I think a more appropriate question is are you all right?”

I ignore him. Who cares about me? “Is Hermione all right?”

He stands, crosses to the wall and turns his back to me. “The battle drained you, Harry. You’re weak, vulnerable.”

“Is Hermione all right?”

“Voldemort won’t want to do battle again for quite a while... He’s probably worse off than you. It’ll be sometime before you’re up and ready to go out again.”

“Is Hermione all right?”

“Kingsley and Remus will continue to train you. You’re greatly improved. Even Severus noticed it.”

Is he trying to make me angry? “Is Hermione all right?”

“I must say, Harry... I was quite proud of you. I didn’t think Voldemort and you would survive.”

I look around for something to throw. “Is—Hermione—all—right?” I hiss through gritted teeth.

Professor Dumbledore turns to me. “She’s protected.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s well protected in the walls of Hogwarts. No harm will come to her, Harry, I assure you. We’re watching out for her. And, I dare say, Ron is keeping an eye or two on her. He’s moved into your room.” He laughs.

Didn’t waste any time, did he? “Oh.” Well, at least they’re not bloody sharing the room. “Well, what of Ron? How is he?”

“Fine. They’re both just fine.” He leans toward me. “I believe they miss you.”

I want to talk to Hermione... I need to talk to Hermione... “Can I talk to them?”

Professor Dumbledore sighs. “No... I’m afraid that just cannot be arranged. There are more things to consider than you know of...”

I throw a shoe against the wall. “Damn you!”

He closes his eyes and I realize just how lined his face is. “You can be angry if you wish, but you could betray our whereabouts if you spoke to her.”

“I don’t care about our whereabouts! Where in bloody hell are our ‘whereabouts’? I don’t care about any of this! I just want to go back to Hermione!” I know I’m hurting him, but I don’t care. “Do you know what it’s like to be in love? Do you know what it’s like to want something so badly that you physically hurt? Do you know how that feels? I want her! I need her...” I fight back tears.

“Which is it? Want and need are two very different things.”

“I need her...”

“You would risk her life for a night of passion?”

He misinterprets me. “I need her in more ways than one...

Dumbledore shakes his head. “I am sorry...”

I pick at a string on the blanket in between my knees. “Well... C... Can you give her something for me?”

He nods. “Of course.”

I reach over and dig through a drawer. It’s not there... Bloody hell... “Well, it must have gotten lost in battle. Can you tell her something, then?”

“What?”

“T... Tell her that I love her... And that I meant what I said... that night... Up on the tower...”

Dumbledore smiles at me. “I’ll tell her... Get some sleep, Harry... The sooner you defeat Voldemort... The sooner you get to go home to her.”

TEASER

“Do you love him?” he hisses.

“He’s been there through the best and worst times of my life.” What is he trying to prove?

He steps back and crosses his arms. “You’re not answering my question, Hermione.”

A/N: (Kinda shortish this time... Ah, well... Take it or leave it! :D)

10. Excuses

All right... So, I’m only a day late. I hope that you guys will still enjoy this. This chapter is... Well, you’ll see. Erm... The plot is congealing quite nicely. I’m not as worried as I was last week. Things are turning out quite nicely. I think you’ll like from here on out. Things are finally getting interesting. Many, many of you have asked about this chapter... I think you might be... Well... I guess you’ll see.

Thanks to my beta, Jennza, and to my listener, Lily/Mel/CECIL. :) Thank you muchly.

And I still own nothing.

~*~ Hermione ~*~

Chapter Ten:

Excuses

“These excuses, how they’ve served me so well

They’ve kept my safe, kept my stuck

Kept me locked up in my own cell

“I’m too far from home

It takes far too much energy

I cannot afford to

No one will ever see me

“These excuses, how they’ve served me so well

They’ve kept me safe, they’ve kept me stuck

They’ve kept me locked up in my own cell

These excuse, how they’re so familiar

They’ve kept me blocked, kept me small

Kept me safe inside my shell

“Bringing these into the light

Shakes their foundation and clears my sight

Now my imagination is the only thing that limits the bar

And it’s time to raise the height

“No one can have it all

See, I have to, they want me to

I can’t let them down

I will never be happy”

‘Excuses’

—Alanis Morissettte

“Well...” I stop laughing. “Since you’re still awake, James, we might as well go on home.”

James slides to a stop and shakes his red head at me. “No, Mum! We can’t leave Harry Potter by himself!”

I mull this over, trying to figure out how to tell James that... Well, that I don’t really want to be alone with Harry Potter. “Yes, well, Harry has taken care of himself for many years. I think he’ll be fine alone.”

My son widens his eyes. “Well, what if he doesn’t want to be alone?”

I have always had a soft spot for James. I suppose all mothers have a soft spot for their children. But James is very special to me. He was what pulled me out of my depression so many years ago. I tousle his hair and nod. “All right... Go brush your teeth.”

“I did!” He smiles widely and I laugh at the way he sticks his tongue through the gap on the left side of his mouth. “Can I tell Harry Potter good night?” He bounces over to Harry and hugs him. “Thanks for babysitting me, Harry Potter!” He leans over and whispers something into Harry’s ear and giggles as Harry nods. “Good night!”

I follow James up the stairs and help him change into his pyjamas. “Mummy...” he says solemnly as I tuck the covers in around him. “Why don’t you like Harry Potter?”

“Who said that I didn’t, dear heart?” I lean in and kiss his cheek.

He shrugs and I can see that his lids are growing heavy. “Because your eyes get sad when you talk about him.”

Children are so insightful. “Do you like him, James?” I smooth his hair away from his forehead.

He nods ever-so-slightly. “Yes, Mummy... I love Harry Potter...” And falls asleep. I kiss his cheek and turn the light off before closing the door.

When I get back downstairs, Harry is sitting in the same chair, but he has made coffee and is sipping it slowly. “What’s going on with Arthur?”

I sigh and take the coffee he offers me. “He’ll be fine.” He just stares at me. Like I’m going to offer him any extra information.

“Well, what exactly happened?” He stirs his drink. “I mean, all I heard was that he was hurt in a raid.”

I push the still full cup away. I really don’t like being alone with Harry. “He was hit with several different jinxes. But they cut the tentacles off.”

He smiles and we sit in the quiet. The only sound is of Molly’s clock ticking away in the corner. “Hermione... I went to Gringott’s today.”

I pick at an ink stain on my finger. “Really?” Let’s see what you have to say about being broke, Mr. Potter. I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling.

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush...” He sets his cup on the table and put a hand over mine. “Hermione, I know.”

He knows that I took his money and he’s not ranting and raving and being his normal Drama Queen self? “And... you’re... not... upset?”

Harry looks straight into my eyes and I realize that I’ve forgotten how green his are. “No! Why would I be upset? If you need more, I can have it here by morning!”

I’m confused. “You think I spent it?”

He nods. “Of course! But that’s fine. How much more do you need?”

Now I feel really guilty. All I wanted to do was make him feel bad... But here he is, when I’ve acted like the biggest bitch on the earth, offering me more money. “Harry... I’ll put it back... I’ll put every Knut back!”

“No, no, no!” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to put any of it back! Don’t worry about it! Now... How much more do you need?”

He still thinks that I used it! “Harry! I don’t need any of it! I just took it to make you angry.”

He takes his hand away and looks down at the floor. “Why would you do that?” he asks quietly.

“Because—” I start.

“Don’t you know that I’d give you everything I have?” He drains his cup and stares at it, turning it over and over in his hands.

Yeah, well, I won’t be guilt tripped by him. “No,” I say acidly. He still doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know that.”

He sighs and still doesn’t look at me. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For coming back! I mean, for not coming back! Oh,” He takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m just sorry.”

“No argument from me,” I say acidly and cross my arms. “Why did you come back?”

“I had to see if you were still here.” He stands and runs a hand through his already messy hair.

I scoff. “Waiting for you?”

He rests his arm on the mantle, turns his back to me, and nods. “Yeah.”

“I couldn’t wait eight years, Harry.” Honestly, who does he think he is?

He turns around and finally looks me in the eye. “There was a time you said you’d wait forever. Who knew that forever really meant five months?”

I can stand my ground. “We were seventeen years old, Harry. We had no idea what ‘forever’ meant.”

“What does forever mean, Hermione? Are you and Ron forever?”

“Yes!” I spit back and watch as his countenance falls.

He leans towards me and for a minute I think he’s going to kiss me. “Do you love him?” he hisses.

“He’s been there through the best and worst times of my life.” What is he trying to prove?

He steps back and crosses his arms. “You’re not answering my question, Hermione.”

“I don’t have to!” I haven’t felt this independent since... Well, in a long time.

He scoffs. “You owe it to me.”

“I owe you nothing!” I hiss.

“Answer the damn question, Hermione! Just this one question and then I’ll leave you alone. You’ll never have to see me again if that’s what makes you happy.”

“Fine.” I know how to intonate this that it will cut him to the bone, so I look him straight in the eye and speak slowly but firmly. “I have always loved Ron.”

“Then what were those last two years of school? What was that night on the Astronomy Tower?” He’s angry. Well, good! I’ve accomplished one thing.

“A mistake!” Did I really just say that?

“Fine,” he says calmly and starts up the stairs.

I follow him into his room and watch as he starts throwing things into his bag. “What are you doing?”

Harry turns and looks at me. “I’m knitting a sweater. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Running out again?” I shake my head. “So that’s it? You’re gone for eight years and come back for three days? Guess you’re really good at running by now.”

He stuffs a sock into the bag. “Do I have a reason to stay?”

“Well...” I bite my lip. No, he doesn’t have a reason... “You promised James that you would come to his birthday party Friday, and if you don’t he’ll be really disappointed.”

He thinks this over and nods. “Okay... I’ll stay until Saturday morning, then I’m gone.” Harry turns and his eyes meet mine. “Unless—”

“Leave Friday night for all I care!” I throw my hands up in frustration. “I just don’t want my son disappointed. He still has a high opinion of Harry Potter.”

He throws his half-packed bag on the bed. “Fine!”

“Fine!”

“I’m going to bed!”

“Fine! So am I!”

“Fine!” He slams the door in my face.

I throw the door open. “Oh, no! You don’t get to slam doors in my face!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” I shout, slamming the door in his face.

* * *

Ron half-jogs into the Great Hall. “Morning, Ginny!” he calls to his sister, who waves and goes back to her eggs. He reaches the end of the table and sits across from me. “Good morning, Hermione.”

“Who says?” I ask tiredly.

He shrugs and starts piling kippers, toast, eggs, and tomatoes onto his plate. “I love breakfast.”

“Yeah...” I slop around in my untouched raspberry ice cream.

“‘Ey!” He says through his full mouth. “‘Y d’ u—”

“Swallow, Ron...” I say scornfully and he obliges.

“Why do you get ice cream for breakfast?”

I shrug. “Madame Pomfrey told me to eat whatever I could keep down, and I can keep this stuff down.”

“Oh...” He pushes the plate of kippers toward me. “Have a kipper, Herms... Just one.”

I winkle my nose in disgust. “Ronald, I don’t like kippers.” He continues waving it in front of my nose. “If you don’t get it out of my face, I’m going to throw up on you.”

“All... right...” He sighs and backs off. “Oh, well... The more for me! ‘Ower oo—”

“Ronald...” I throw my spoon down and stare at his kippers.

“How’re you feeling now?” He resumes eating.

Those kippers look good.

“Huh, ‘Mione?”

Those kippers look really good.

“‘Mione, are you listening?”

Those kippers look really good.

“Hermione?”

Those kippers look like they’d be good with raspberry ice cream.

“HERMIONE!”

I want one! I reach over to Ron’s plate, stab a kipper with my fork, slather it in my now melted ice cream and pop it into my mouth, savoring the way the salt and sugar are mingling together. “Mmm...” I sigh.

I pull the plate of kippers towards me and start dipping them all into the ice cream.

“What are you doing, Hermione?” Ron asks in disgust.

“‘Avin’ breakfast!” I dip another one in the pink goo.

He pulls the fork away from me. I simply shrug and start eating with my bare hands. “Hermione, I’ve been accused of having a stomach of steel, and even I cannot imagine what that must taste like.”

I hold out a piece. “You can try it if you wish.”

He backs away from me. “‘Mione, that looks disgusting!”

I look down at my pink hands. “I know!”

“Hem, hem!” There’s a cough behind us.

I feel a pink dribble run down my chin as I stare straight up into the eyes of Professor McGonagall. Thank goodness! For a while, I thought it was Umbridge. “Miss Granger... Mr. Weasley... Can I see you both outside for a moment?” She goes.

Ron glances at me and shrugs. “And you call me a pig...” He mutters as he points his wand at my hands and mutters a cleansing charm. I do the same on my face and stand.

Standing—not a good idea. “Whoa...” I fall back onto the bench, almost flattening a fourth year, and put a hand to my head.

“Are you all right, ‘Mione?” Ron kneels in front of me.

I nod. “Yes... I’m just... I just... I got a little light-headed...”

He helps me to my feet. “It’s because you haven’t eaten anything and then you went and almost killed yourself with kippers and raspberry ice cream!”

I lean against him until I regain my balance and he leads me through the doors.

Professor McGonagall sighs. “Hermione... It’s not exactly easy for me to do this, you understand.”

My stomach grows cold. “W... Why? Is it Harry?”

She nods and I feel a lump rise in my throat. “This doesn’t necessarily mean... Well, what you’d think it to mean... But... These were recovered from the battle site. We... Well, we want you to have them...” She thrusts a soft cloth into my hands and quickly heads down the hall.

“What is it, ‘Mione?” Ron asks, standing behind me.

I hold an edge of the cloth and let the contents tumble into my hand. My breath catches in my throat as I look down at a pair of round, black glasses. My stomach churns and I feel hot bile rising in my throat. “I... I... I’m going to be sick...” I throw the glasses down, clamp a hand over my mouth, and run to the toilet, leaving Ron staring open mouthed at me.

TEASER

“My entire life... My career... My wife... My son... My everything is up for grabs because of one person...”

“Didn’t you kind of base your life on the fact that that one person left?” Draco mutters.

Thank you much for reading. You don’t really have to review, but it would be very appreciated and I really want to hear what you guys are thinking right about now... *smiles* Oh, I do... teeheehee...

11. Only the Lonely

All righty, people... Rejoice! The next three or four chapters should flow quite easily and I’m very positive! 12 should be up Tuesday or Wednesday. Erm... I was very tempted to not give you a flashback on this one... But then I decided that this scene would be appropriate. This chapter really just sets up the next three or so. I’m very excited now. We’re getting to the good stuff. So, read, enjoy, and review. I want to know what your reactions are and what you think about... things...

Chapter Eleven:

Only the Lonely

You mention the time we were together so long ago

Well, I don't remember
All I know is it makes me feel good now.

It's like I told you only the lonely can play
Only the lonely only the lonely can play

Only the lonely only the lonely can play
It's like I told you only the lonely can play
Only the lonely
Only the lonely can play”

Only the Lonely’

— The Motels

I wake up with the usual pressure from Hermione on my chest, but when I reach for her hair, I feel nothing but cotton. Right... I forgot... She kicked me out of the bedroom. She told me that I was an unfeeling git. So, asking her if she loves her ex-boyfriend more than her husband makes me an unfeeling git? Erm... sorry?

But wait... That much pressure won’t be caused from just a pillow. I feel a light tapping on my head. “Dad... Dad... Dad...”

I open my eyes and see James grinning down at me, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously. “Dad... Dad... Dad...”

“What?” I sit up groggily and James tumbles onto the floor, giggling.

“I have to go to school!” he exclaims in that haughty tone he inherited from Hermione.

“Oh... Yeah...” I glance at the clock. 7:24... Hermione must have left James (and me) in bed when she left. She usually wakes me up to tell me goodbye... Then again... She’s still very angry with me.

I rub my eyes. “Where’s Grandma?”

“She’s at the hospital. Get up, Dad!” James grabs my hand.

“Where’s Aunt Ginny?” I let him ‘pull’ me up.

“In the kitchen making breakfast.”

I ruffle his hair. “Why don’t you go help her?”

“Okay, Dad...” He bounces off into the kitchen and I head toward the bathroom.

After a quick shower, I enter the kitchen to hear James jabbering excitedly to Draco about his birthday.

“...and so what are you getting me? ‘Cause you know that I really, really, really want a Quidditch set... A real one! Like Dad has! But I want a new one, ‘cause his is kind of old!”

I sit down next to Ginny who has her face buried in her hands and is quite pale. “Gin, are you all right?”

She nods. “Yes... I’ll be fine in a minute or two... You know how—” She glances at James and drops her voice to a whisper. “You know how sick Hermione was when she—”

I shake my head slightly. “I know, Gin... James, finish your breakfast, brush your teeth, and then I’ll take you to school.”

James nods excitedly, shovels his eggs in his mouth (he takes after me, I suppose) and leaps out of his chair.

“No!” I grab the neck of his robes. “All of your juice, young man.”

He grins sheepishly, gulps his pumpkin juice, and bolts up the stairs.

Draco shakes his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Ron... I don’t see how you can be both parents at once.”

I shrug. “Hermione tries... It’s hard for her... Especially these last few days...”

“Hey!” Ginny sits up suddenly. “I just remembered! Happy birthday, Ron!”

I glance at the calendar. “Well... It is... I forgot, too.” Bloody git, Harry is... Making me forget my own sodding birthday.

James slides down the banister (“James! I have asked you not to do that!”) and lands in front of me. “Are you ready, Dad? Are you ready, Dad? Are you? Are you? Huh, huh, huh?”

I love James more than life itself... But sometimes, like right now, I just want to strangle the child.

“Come here, James...” Ginny says, motherly. “Let’s get your cloak on. It’s your Dad’s birthday you know...” I see her slip him two Galleons. “After school, why don’t you treat him to some ice cream?”

James grins, and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “All right, Aunt Ginny! Can I go to school, now, Dad? Huh, huh, huh?”

I finish off my coffee and grab my cloak. “Yeah... We’d better get going.”

“Can we fly, Daddy? Please? Please? Since it’s your birthday?” He widens his eyes at me.

“We’ll use Floo now, James, but I’ll pick you up on the broom, all right?”

James nods and grabs his small satchel and heads toward the fireplace.

“Draco, are you coming s-h-o-p-p-i-n-g with me?” I ask quietly. I need to buy James’s birthday presents.

He nods. “I’ll drop Ginny by the store and meet you in Quality Quidditch Supplies,” he whispers and points to James.

I nod and cross the floor to my son. “You want to say it, James?”

He grins widely and his blue eyes light up. “Madam Marie’s Primary School for Gifted Magical Children!”

* * *

I spot Draco in the Quidditch Set section of Quality Quidditch Supplies as I enter. He holds a box out for me to inspect. “Do you think James is too young for a regulation size Quidditch set?”

I shrug. “He’s been playing since he could walk—”

“And like Fred said, he flies like he was born to do it. I’d never have expected your offspring to be so talented on a broom, Weasel,” he winks at me, grabbing the Quidditch set out of my hands.

We make our way over to the robes. “What team do you think, Draco? Cannons?” I hold up a pair of bright orange robes.

Draco raises an eyebrow at me. “Honestly, Weasley... I don’t see how you and Ginny came from the same womb. She’s so fashionable and you’re so... not. I’d stick with Hogwarts houses.” He pulls some miniature Slytherin robes from the rack and holds them out.

I shake my head. “Yeah, no. But grab those Gryffindors, will you?”

He sneers and hands me the robes. “You’d better buy him some body armor. Hermione would kill you if you let him on a broom to play Quidditch with a real Quidditch set without something to protect him.”

I snort. “Wonder if it comes in steel?”

As we pass the brooms, I hear my name. “Ron! Hey, Ron!”

I turn around and see Harry standing in front of the newest models of brooms. He’s slung a Firebolt 361 across his right shoulder and is carefully considering a Nimbus 2005. “Hi, Harry...” I say, dully.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Harry says.

Yeah, not my idea of happy.

“Anyway...” He turns the broom over in his hands. “I think this will work just fine.”

Draco sighs. “Harry, why are you buying that broom? The Firebolt’s much better.”

Harry holds it at arm’s length and tilts his head to the side. “You’re right... I’ll just buy them both.”

“W... Why?” Draco and I follow Harry up to the counter. “Why are you buying two?”

Harry turns around as the witch behind the counter wraps the brooms. “Well, the Firebolt’s for me and the Nimbus is for James’s birthday.”

What in bloody hell is he thinking buying Hermione’s kid a broom? “Oh... Erm...”

Draco’s jaw drops. “But I thought that—”

I move quickly and stomp on his foot. Twitchy ferret...

“But Herm—”

Stomp! Don’t know what my sister sees in him...

“Hermione—”

STOMP! Honestly! Does he not get the hint?

“Ron! If you don’t stop stepping on my foot, I’m going to hex you.”

I back off. Okay, so what if I’m just a little scared of Draco Malfoy? There’s no shame in that!

Harry digs in his pockets for money. “What were you trying to say, Malfoy?”

Draco shrugs and I can see his ears going pink. “Well, Hermione said that she didn’t really want James to—”

I put my arms around his shoulders. “Be disappointed when we couldn’t buy him a broom.” I nod melancholically.

Draco looks at me strangely and I threaten him by raising my foot ever-so-slightly. “Yeah...” he agrees. “Yeah... That was it.”

Harry hands the plump witch the money and takes the brooms. “Well... Ron, I’d like to buy you lunch for your birthday.” He glances at his watch. “But I suppose it’s too early.”

I nod. “Yes... Well... I hate that, don’t you? I really appreciate the offer, Harry,” Heh. Yeah... Right... “but we’ve promised Ginny and Hermione we’ll have lunch with them today. But... You know... I guess I’ll see you Friday then...” I guess...

Harry nods and I see relief cross his face. I think he thinks that I forgive him. Hah... “Sure, Ron... I’ll see you there.”

“‘Bye!” Draco calls and I wave as Harry awkwardly steps out into Diagon Alley.

* * *

“I can’t believe you did that, Ron!” Draco scolds me as we sift through a plethora of Quidditch banners.

“Did what?” I ask innocently.

“Told Harry that Hermione actually wants James to have a broom! That was just evil!” He shakes his head and places a green and silver one to the side.

I give him a sideways look. Draco Malfoy calling me evil? “I have no idea what you’re talking about...” I mutter and pull a Gryffindor pennant from the box.

Draco shakes his head. “Why did you do it? Are you trying to make him look bad in front of her?”

I stare ahead stolidly. “I don’t want to lose her, Draco...”

“Why are you so paranoid?” he asks. “She’s not going to leave you for him after all of these years.”

I turn my head towards him. “Wouldn’t she? When Harry left... I almost had a chance, Draco!” I throw a Cannon’s banner back into the box. “If he’d only stayed away... Why in God’s name did he have to come back now? Of all times, why now?”

“Why not now?” He’s playing the devil’s advocate, prompting me to points that I never would have considered.

I shrug. “I’ve worked too damn hard over the last eight years for him to come back and disrupt everything. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”

He shakes his head.

“My entire life... My career... My wife... My son... My everything is up for grabs because of one person...”

“Didn’t you kind of base your life on the fact that that one person left?” Draco mutters. “I mean, you became an Auror so you could question the Death Eaters about what happened to Harry... You married Hermione because of Harry... You have James because of Harry...”

I jerk my head to look at him. “You know about that? How?”

“You told me...” He says placidly. “Those damn nightmares... One night after you comforted her... She woke up and then—”

Oh... I see. “Yeah, I forgot about that. Sorry...”

“Anyway, my point is this, Ron... Maybe the reason your whole life depends on Harry... Is because your whole life is Harry...” Draco shrugs, grabs the stack of green, and leaves me contemplating his last statement.

* * *

Meal times with Hermione have become quite interesting. I’m never sure how she’s going to top the smoked kippers and raspberry ice cream stunt. So far, she’s eaten a few very nasty things. Black pudding and marmalade... Tomatoes and raw sugar...

Breakfast this morning has been relatively normal. She’s eating...“Hang on...” I sigh and look at her. “Is that treacle you’ve added?”

She smiles at me and nods. “Mmm-hmm...” She digs into her shepherd’s pie.

“Do you have a parasite in there, ‘Mione?”

She raises an eyebrow at me and continues to eat.

“All right... I just meant that you’ve been eating more than I have lately and that is—”

“Ugh...” She lays her fork down and sighs. “Ugh... I don’t... Ugh...”

“Are you all right?” Something is definitely up with Hermione. One minute she’s stuffing herself and the next she’s throwing it all up.

She nods. “Yes... I just... Ugh... I don’t think I should have eaten that.”

Wait a minute... Something just clicked. My jaw drops. “Hermione, are you pregnant?”

She widens her eyes at me and gasps. “No, Ronald!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!”

“Positive?”

“Yes!”

“The test?”

“No!”

“So are you pregnant or not?”

“Not!” she sighs. “I’m just... It’s stress. I’ve always been a big eater whenever I’m on edge. You know that. I’m not pregnant.”

I stare at her.

“I’m not!”

Stare.

“What? I’m not!”

“Right...”

“Ron... I. Am. Not. Pregnant.”

I nod, but I still think there’s something wrong. “Is there anything that you want to talk to me about?”

She shakes her head... but I can see the tears in her eyes. “No... Yes... I just... I miss Harry so much, Ron... Every day... It’s like it just hurts more... Dumbledore seems confident...” She turns her face to the head table and stares at the headmaster, who is talking animatedly with Professor Sprout. “Look at them all...” she sighs. “They’re so... It’s like they know that everything will be all right one day... I only wish I did. I just wish that I knew something about Harry... I want to know if he’s hurt, if he’s alone, if he’s happy... I just want to know something...”

Maybe he’s forgotten about her... Then I can— No! She’s your best mate’s girlfriend... That’s just... wrong.

“H... He couldn’t have forgotten about me, could he?” she sighs, staring right through me with those huge eyes of hers.

Bloody hell, how does she do that? “I’m sure he hasn’t, Hermione... He said he loved you—” Much to my dismay “—and Harry never breaks a promise. Especially one like that.” I put my arms around her. “Everything will be all right one day... I’ll always be here. You know that, right?”

She smiles and nods. “Yes.”

TEASER

“I want to play Quidditch!” he interrupts her. “Can we, Mum? Please?”

“Yeah!” Ron jumps in. “We can play four on four.”

I do the calculations quickly. “Ron, how does that work?”

George puts an arm around my shoulders. “We get Harry...”

“Fine...” Fred agrees. “We get James.”

So... Hah! I know and you don’t! Lol... But I’ll tell you next week...

Thanks.

12. Brand New Day

K... I’m sure you guys are going to flame me after this chapter, but that’s okay. I really don’t care anymore. (But, you know, sucking up to the author won’t push updates back any...) My AP classes are getting a little bit in the way of my free time... (Mum says that if my grades drop, I have to close my portkey account and you don’t really want that.) But anyway... So... You don’t have to review, but thanks if you do and maybe I’ll write faster... (lol, j/k)

Chapter 12:

Brand New Day

“Never thought I’d say I’m sorry

Never thought I’d be the one to bring you down

Now when I look out my window

But there doesn’t seem to be anyone around

“And I... I think I’ll change my ways

So all your words get noticed

Tomorrow’s a brand new day

Tomorrow’s a new day

“We said we’d take a little time

For both of us to see

And wonder what it’d be like to carry on

Yeah, I know I got crazy

Well, I guess that’s just me

If I could turn back time before the wrong...”

‘Brand New Day’

—40 Foot Echo

It’s Friday... I’ve really been dreading Friday... It’s James’s birthday party... And then I’m free to leave tomorrow morning. But the funny thing is... I’m not sure I really want to... I’m sure that this is going to be a disaster... Oh, well... The only way to see is to go... And I’m going... So at 6:00 I gather the Nimbus under my arm and Apparate to the Burrow.

“Harry Potter! Harry Potter!” James bounds up to me and hugs me. “Hurry! Hurry! Mum said that we were waiting on you!”

How nice of her.

He drags me over to the large table Molly has set up in the middle of the yard and George takes the broom and sets it on a tremendous pile of presents... I only hope someone else hasn’t bought him a broom...

“What do you want to do first, James?” Hermione asks him.

“Presents!” James runs over to the stack of colours and starts ripping. “Ooh! A Quidditch set! Thanks, Uncle Draco!” “Wow! Gryffindor robes! Thanks, Dad!” “Oh... A book... On Quidditch! Thanks, Mum!”

My gift is the last. He opens it slowly, almost as if he’s afraid that I really did buy him a teddy bear, racecar or a book. He squeals. “Ooh! A Nimbus 2005! Thanks so much, Harry Potter!” He jumps up holding the broom. “Look, Mum!”

Hermione, who’s been throwing me dirty looks since James opened the broom, smiles at him. “That’s very nice, James. Why don’t you give it to Dad and—”

“I want to play Quidditch!” he interrupts her. “Can we, Mum? Please?”

“Yeah!” Ron jumps in. “We can play four on four.”

I do the calculations quickly. “Ron, how does that work?”

George puts an arm around my shoulders. “We get Harry...”

“Fine...” Fred agrees. “We get James.”

“Yay! I get to play! And this time I can play high with all of you!”

Ginny crosses over to Draco. “I want to play.”

“Red,” Draco says lovingly, “do you think you should be on a broom given your—”

Ginny grins. “Shut—up—Draco.”

“Yes, dear,” he mumbles meekly.

Ron nods. “All right... We’ll meet in ten minutes.”

* * *

I love flying. It’s been a long time since I’ve played Quidditch so I’m a bit rusty. The Snitch has stayed elusive, so I’ve been watching the match. It’s been a close game. Draco and Ron have only have a few mishaps, usually because Hermione was yelling at them for letting James fly so quickly. We’re tied now 40-40, so it’s up to James and me and, I don’t want to sound pompous, but honestly, what was Fred thinking putting James up against me?

Suddenly, a red blur streaks past me and as soon as I can focus, I see James in a nose-dive, plummeting toward the ground at breakneck speed. Everyone stops and watches.

He’s getting closer... He’s six feet away.... Three feet... A foot... Six inches... The red turns black... And then he pulls himself up, his right hand outstretched and in his palm... The Golden Snitch. I really need to get my eyes checked. I imagine his eyes changing colour on Monday... Now his hair? And it turned black of all colours... But... Wait a minute...

“Draco...” I call as he flies past me. “How old is James?”

“Eight today!” Draco calls over his right shoulder as he zooms past me.

Wait... March... February... January... December... November... October... September... August... July... June... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... Hmm... He’s eight. So, I left nine years ago in June... Hmm...

July, one... August, two... September, three... October, four... November, five... December, six... January, seven... February, eight... March... nine... Eight years ago...

Dear Merlin.

I think I’ve realized something.

I land with a soft thud and make my way into the kitchen where Hermione sits with a cup of coffee in front of her, never looking up at me.

Dear Merlin.

I know I’ve realized something.

“Hermione,” I say softly. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” She stirs the steaming cup and raises it slowly to her lips.

“About James.” I’m trying to be nonchalant.

She takes a sip and sets the cup on the saucer. “What about James?” she asks guilelessly.

Am I wrong? “Well... Erm... How long were you and Ron married before he was born?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Why is our personal life any of your business?”

I shrug. She’s going defensive. “Well, I was just thinking. I left nine years ago in June... James is eight today... So... Either James is my son... Or you were cheating on me with my best friend...”

She stiffens and Molly looks as if she’s watching a tennis match.

“You weren’t, were you?” I ask her. She can’t sit there and lie to me.

She stares at the wall behind my head and says nothing.

“He’s mine, isn’t he?”

She looks toward me. “No! You have no claim to him!” She stands and faces me.

“But he’s my son!” I yell, leaning in toward her.

She shakes her head. “You gave up any right you had to him eight years ago when you died!”

What... “What in bloody hell are you talking about? I’m as alive as you are! I didn’t die!”

She sets her jaw decisively. “You did to me.”

All right... Pick on Harry week is over! I back her into a corner. “Look, bitch,” I mutter, low and angry. “I don’t care if you think that I’m the biggest sodding bastard on the face of the earth. I don’t care that you married my best friend after I’d been gone for five months... But I do care that everything you’ve told me about my son has been a lie.” I pull my wand from my robes. “Now, you’re going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on here... Or I’ll hex you. I’ve been nice this far and it’s over.”

Her eyes flash and I feel her hand move in her robes. She’s pulling her wand too.

“Mummy!” James says from the doorway.

She whips her head over to the door where James, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, and Draco are standing, staring at us. “James...” she says. “Go back outside and let Mummy finish her talk with Harry.” She smiles at him.

Fred and George grab him. “Come on, kid... Let’s go get some ice cream...”

James smiles back at her and trots out of the door with Fred and George.

“Harry...” Ron steps up to me.

I point my wand at him, keeping my eyes on Hermione. “Don’t make me curse you, Ron...”

“Mate...” he mutters. “Come on... What’s this all about?”

“Come on, Harry...” Ginny pulls me away from Hermione. I move back but keep staring right into her eyes.

“Hermione...” Ron’s speaking softly into Hermione’s ear.

She keeps her wand pointed right in between my eyes. “Ronald... Back away...” Her voice trembles, but her hand is steady.

“Hermione...” Molly interrupts. “I think it’s time.”

She shakes her head. “I will not!”

Ginny nods. “Yes, Hermione... You need this now...”

“Nope. Sorry. Not going to do it.”

Ron leans up to her again. “Hermione... Dear heart... It is time. You have to tell him. Everything. Tell him everything.”

She looks at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Ron, what should I tell him?”

“You should tell him what he wants to hear... And what I think that, deep down, you really want to tell him...”

She stares at him. “What?”

“Think about it...” he prompts her.

“The truth?” she scoffs.

He sighs. “It is a very strange thing, Hermione... As you learned when James was born, people cannot change the truth... But, as you will learn now, the truth can change people.”

Hermione nods and bites her lip. “All right then... I’ll tell him everything.”

* * *

19 September

My dear Hermione,

Happy birthday, love! I am sorry that I’m not able to be there with you. It saddens me more everyday that I cannot be with you.

I do hope that Dumbledore delivered my message to you. I want you to know that it’s true, Hermione. I do love you.

Now, listen carefully, love... I don’t know when I’ll see you again but I love you more than life itself. You have to remember that. Everything that I’m out here doing... Well... I’m doing it for you... Know that, please, Hermione...

Know that if I don’t come back to you it’s because I died defending you. There is never a time when I don’t think about you... Never a night that I don’t dream about you. I wrote that to you in the last letter, too, but I lost it... I might write it in every letter from here on out... Just so that you will remember...

Something I just remembered. You have to hear something seven times for it to sink into your long term memory. Isn’t that a strange thing for me to remember just right off the top of my head. I suppose that I must have heard it seven or more times in primary school because I don’t think we ever studied anything like that at Hogwarts. But you already knew that, didn’t you, love? You know everything, I’m convinced. Then I suppose you know how much I love you... But still... It can’t hurt to tell you again... and again... and again...

God, Hermione... I miss you so much. Somehow I feel... I don’t know... I’ll always have a part of you and you’ll always have a part of me... We made sure of that that night on the Astronomy Tower, didn’t we? I’m smiling, love, and I hope you think of that night as often as I do. I can’t wait to come back to you... But not just for that reason. But you already knew that, right?

How’s Ron? Well, I hope... I hope everyone is well... I suppose alive would be good right now. Is everyone alive? I’ve seen so much death lately, Hermione... Tonks is gone... Mundungus Fletcher is gone... And if it weren’t for you... I’d be gone too...

I swear, I don’t know how much longer I can stand to be away from you. I feel quite certain that we’ll see each other again... Not sure when... It will be soon, though. Every battles drains Voldemort a little more... Every battle drains me a little more... It’s almost as if our powers are shared now... Perhaps even more than they used to be.

But then... Were they ever really shared or just transferred? Dumbledore said that I was a Parselmouth because Voldemort was a Parselmouth... But was it shared or just transferred? All these questions... I only hope that they’ll be answers soon, love... I can’t wait to hold you again... I want to kiss you...

I love you... Yeah... I love you.

All my love always,

Harry

TEASER

Ginny’s taken our wands away so we won’t kill one another and, believe me, I was angry enough to do it. Harry sits at the opposite end of the table and stares at me, waiting.

I sigh.

“Hermione, don’t you think that we should be alone?”

“They are my family... I have nothing to hide from them.”

13. Cannonball

So sorry that I haven’t posted in a century. I’ve been everywhere but here the last month. My band recently took second in the state and I’ve had to be gone a lot due to that. I have a performance Thursday night with a choir and a contest Saturday, not to mention all of my AP classes are still killing me. (We just finished a very touching novel about the Holocaust. It’s called ‘Night’. If you don’t want it sugarcoated, then I suggest it. It’s very good.) Not to mention the election going on tomorrow night. Things definitely aren’t slowing down any and I regret to say that this may not be the longest we go in between posts. Thanks muchly to everyone who reviewed last chapter and thanks even more for sticking with me. I appreciate all of your positive thoughts about my AP classes. They’re getting better. Please keep the thoughts and the prayers coming and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! Remember, reviewing makes the voices speak... *wink, wink*

And I still own nothing. (Unfortunately)

Chapter Thirteen:

Cannonball

“There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth

There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt

It’s still a little hard to say what’s going on

“There’s still a little bit of your ghost, your witness

There’s still a little bit of your face I haven’t kissed

You step a little closer each day and I can’t say what’s going on

“Stones taught me to fly

Love taught me to lie

Life taught me to die

So it’s not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball

“There’s still a little bit of your song in my ear

There’s still a little bit of your words I long to hear

You step a little closer to me

So close that I can’t say what’s going on

“Stones taught me to fly

Love taught me to cry

So come on, courage, teach me to be shy...

‘Cause it’s not hard to grow when you know that you just don’t know”

‘Cannonball’

—Damien Rice

Ginny’s taken our wands away so we won’t kill one another and, believe me, I was angry enough to do it. Harry sits at the opposite end of the table and stares at me, waiting.

I sigh.

“Hermione, don’t you think that we should be alone?” He looks from Draco to Ginny and then back at me.

“They are my family, not to mention my best friends... I have nothing to hide from them.” He nods me on and I feel Ron’s hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath. “I started feeling sick about a week and a half after you left... It wasn’t really bad... I was just a bit nauseated every now and then. I figured it was stress, anxiety, you know... But it kept getting worse. I started gaining weight... Started throwing up everything that I put into my mouth... Then... Well, I started to suspect... For obvious reasons. But Madame Pomfrey told me that it was just stress. After two months, I figured it out. I was pregnant after the one night that I’d slept with Harry Potter.”

He sighs in disbelief and nods me on.

“I was in denial... Ron asked me once. I, of course, told him no. I’d believed that you were coming back for so long, Harry... Then McGonagall brought me your glasses... Well, that was it. After that... I believed a little less every day...

“Around the end of September, it got to the point where something had to be done. I was starting to really show... Everyone knew that I was Harry Potter’s girlfriend... If I was pregnant by him... Well... The Death Eaters would have a field day. They’d come after me and the baby...

“One day, Ron came to me again and asked me if I was pregnant. I figured that this was my way out... so I told him. I expected him to be really upset... But he just hugged me and told me that he’d do whatever it took to keep the baby and me safe. Dumbledore advised us to marry to provide the necessary protection and—“

”Wait,” he stops me. “You talked to Dumbledore?”

I nod. “Yes... He was the one who preformed our marriage.”

Harry shakes his head and sighs again. “He knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Dumbledore knew where I was. He talked to me after every battle. I... I wrote letters to you and sent them by him... Didn’t you get them?”

“No... Why would he do something like that?”

He shrugs. “We’ll have to talk to him, the smarmy git,” he hisses, then turns his bright eyes toward me. “Please go on, Hermione,” he says softly.

“Erm... Anyway, I talked to him and McGonagall a lot. They advised me to just follow my heart. That was hard... My heart still believed... But my mind didn’t.

“Ron’s been telling me everyday for the last fifteen years that I was too smart for my own good... He was right. My mind has always ruled my heart... Especially then. I convinced myself that marrying Ron would be the logical decision. I couldn’t be a single mother and this would also keep the baby and me safe until Harry came back for us. Then Ron and I could get an annulment and everything would be fine...” This is the hardest part for me to tell Harry. I’m sure this is the hardest part for him to hear.

“I said yes to Ron... It killed me the day that I actually had to marry him. I just kept telling myself that Harry was dead... That it was for the baby... We got married in November...

“Then in March, James was born... I’ll never forget that day. He kept me in immense pain for thirty-eight hours... But when they laid that little pink baby in my arms... It didn’t matter... He looked just like you, Harry...” I turn my eyes to him. “He had hair blacker than coal... Eyes deeper and greener than emeralds... he had my nose, though...”

The tiniest smile flickers across Harry’s quivering lips.

“We named him after you because... Well, you were dead... We wanted a way to honour you.”

He blinks away the tears.

“I don’t remember a lot of James’s first six months... I was depressed... After I got over the depression, I stayed at work all of the time. I know that I was a horrible mother... I didn’t see his first step... Didn’t hear his first word... I was too wrapped up in burying my own grief to see that I had a little piece of Harry right there with me.

“Ron adopted him after a year... I’d almost completely stopped believing that you weren’t dead and knew that you weren’t coming back for me... His name was changed from Harry James Potter to Harry James Weasley... Dumbledore explained that in a magical adoption, the child takes on some of the family characteristics... That’s why James’s hair is red now and not black... That’s why his eyes are blue, not green. He is, in every way, a Weasley... He is Ron’s adoptive son... But, he carries your genes. Harry,” I gather enough courage to look straight into those eyes. “James is your son.”

He looks from me to Ron, who’s now standing the in doorway with his arms crossed. “B...” Harry stammers. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

I shrug. “It was hard...”

“Considering you were dead...” Ron scoffs.

Harry looks really shaken up. “I... If I’d known...”

I shake my head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything... I don’t blame you for staying away anymore... Who would have wanted to come back to—”

He nods slowly and puts his hand over mine. “I did...”

Ron walks briskly across the kitchen and slams the door on his way out.

I run after him. “Ron! Wait!” I catch up to him and grab his shoulder.

“Go back to him...” he growls.

“What?”

“Go—back—to—him. He’s what you’ve wanted the last eight years.”

What is he thinking? “I married you.”

“‘It killed me the day I actually had to marry him,’” he mocks me. “Why don’t you make up your mind?”

“What are you talking about?” I yell.

He leans inches away from my face. “Who do you want, Hermione... Me or him? Because you can’t have it both ways.”

“I...”

He backs away and nods. “Yeah... That’s what I thought.”

* * *

“Hermione...”

I look up from the setting sun. “Ron... Sit and watch the sunset with me.”

He sinks onto the ground beside me. “How are you?”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “If you want to ask me something, just spit it out already.”

He sighs and rubs his hands on his knees. “All right then... Erm... ‘Mione...”

“Yes?”

“What’s your favourite flower?”

I laugh. “Well, I’ve always been partial to daisies.”

“Oh...” He nods and sighs. “‘Mione...”

“Hmm?” I tilt my head toward him.

“How was dinner?”

I smile. “It was good.”

“Right...”

“Ronald,” I sigh. “Honestly, if you want to know something, just come out and ask me!”

“Fine!” He gulps. “‘Mioneareyoupregnant?”

“What?”

“Are... You...” Gulp. “Pregnant?”

“How did you reach that conclusion after I’ve adamantly denied that?” I seethe.

“Well, bloody hell, Hermione! I mean to say, you eat weird things—”

“Everything I’ve eaten has been completely normal!”

“Smoked kippers and ice cream is not normal, Hermione! Black pudding and treacle is not normal!”

“It was marmalade!”

“My point is...” He runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve gained weight... You’re sick all of the time. Now...” He puts a hand on mine. “Tell me the truth, ‘Mione...”

I bow my head in silent submission. “It was an accident! I... I didn’t mean...”

“Shh...” He pulls me to him and stokes my hair gently. “You don’t have to explain...”

I feel the tears coursing down my cheeks. “You’re not mad at me?”

He shakes his head. “Why would I be mad at you?” He places a hand on my stomach. “There’s a human being in there. A human being that my two best friends created. I want to be this kid’s godfather if—”

He stops short, but I know what the rest of his sentence would have been. I look up at him. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Ron sighs and closes his eyes. “I don’t know. It... And I don’t want to upset you, Hermione.”

“Go on.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” he says carefully. “I spoke with Dumbledore this morning... He... He said he hadn’t heard from Harry since he left school in June. I’m... I’m actually...”

The tears stop. I’ve cried myself out. “We can’t keep living on false hopes. I can’t stay pregnant. The Death Eaters... Voldemort would come after us both! I can’t do this... I wonder if Madame Pomfrey could—” I start to rise.

“‘Mione, ‘Mione, ‘Mione!” He pulls me back down. “Think about it. If Harry is... Well, if he’s—”

“Dead,” I say bitterly. “Say it. Harry’s dead and you know it.”

“No!” Ron sighs. “If Harry’s... Well, if something’s happened to him... Then maybe Voldemort is gone, too! Maybe it’s all over with!”

I shake my head. “If Voldemort was dead then Harry would be alive. You can’t understand this yet!” I want to pound it into him. Why does he not understand?

“If what you’re saying is correct... Then... This baby could be the answer that Harry wasn’t. This baby could save us. Save the world, ‘Mione. Would you really want to risk it?”

I blink. “What should I do then?”

“Well... You could have the baby as Harry’s—”

I shake my head vehemently. “No. Voldemort would kill us all.”

“—or you could marry someone who would adopt the baby and raise it as his own.”

I scoff. “Come on, who would do anything like that?”

“I would.”

“Are you—”

“Look, ‘Mione.” He holds me in front of him. “I know I’m not Harry, but I love you. I’ve always loved you. Will you marry me?”

I sit in shocked silence and watch as the last rays of the sun disappear under the glassy surface of the lake. My eyes meet his. “Yes.”

TEASER

“Luna?”

“Oh, hello, Ronald. I thought that was you.” Luna Lovegood sits beside me and flips her hair behind her shoulder.

I notice that she doesn’t have a cigarette. “Erm... Do you need something to smoke?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, Ronald! I don’t smoke. Find it a disgusting habit, actually.” She pulls a piece of parchment out of her hot pink robes. “Can you light this for me?”

I put my wand to the parchment and watch it curl. “What are you doing?”

Luna puts her face close, but not too close to the parchment. “Fire fascinates me. It’s almost as if it’s alive. It’s born... It breathes oxygen... When its resources are depleted it dies... Very much like mankind, don’t you think?”

Before you flame, I just want to clear a few things up.

1. Yes, you were all right.

2. No, I did not rip the plot line off of someone else. If you think I did, then please tell me who so sincerest apologies can be made.

3. Yes, I very carefully manipulated my replies so that you would think one way after thinking another.

4. Yes, James is Ron’s son. His adopted son.

5. Yes, James is Harry’s son. His biological son.

6. Yes, James is Hermione’s son. It wasn’t immoral nor was it incest... Which is a little bit redundant, but oh, well. Further questions should be directed to the review board.

Thankee much for reading!

14. Back to the Start

Yes, I know that I said within with week, but I’m sorry. Swamped with stuff right now. It’s the holiday season, I’m sure. Things should slow down after New Year’s. Anyway, I appreciate all of you guys sticking here with me for so long and I hope you’ll find these next few chapters enjoyable. I know that I said that this would be a Ron chapter, but the Ron voice wasn’t speaking. The Harry voice was! So you have a Harry chapter and hopefully a Ron one next time. I want to say that it won’t be as long in between chapters this time, but please don’t hate me if I don’t get it put up in a while. That said, enjoy this chapter.

Sorry it’s so short. Not a lot happens word wise in this chapter... Just read it. I think it’ll make more sense that way.

Thankee muchly.

Harry

Chapter Fourteen

Back to the Start

“Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry
You don’t know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions
Oh, lets go back to the start
Running in circles, coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart

“Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said that it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start
I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh, and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

“Nobody said it was easy
Oh it’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I’m going back to the start”

‘The Scientist’

—Coldplay

Hermione steps into the kitchen from outside, her ears and nose pink and her eyes watering. “Do you see?” she whispers. “Do you see now why I’ve hated you for so long?”

I nod. “I don’t blame you...”

She smiles at me. “I... erm... Wh... What do we do now?”

“Well, I’m going to talk to Dumbledore. You can stay here and I’ll come back after—”

“I’m going, too,” she interrupts me.

“No, you’re—”

“He lied to me too, Harry.” She pauses and presses her fingertips to her temples. “We wouldn’t be here now if he had just told us the truth...” She finally adds with a sigh.

I put a hand to her cheek and she closes her eyes. “I’ll never leave you... and James...” I say it cautiously, waiting to see her reaction. “...again.”

She smiles gently as she opens her eyes and stares right into mine. “I know,” she whispers. “Come on...” she says, pulling away from me. “We’d better get going.”

We Apparate into Hogsmeade. “Are we headed to the castle?”

“Yes,” she says hurriedly and pulls me into a carriage.

We sit in a pregnant silence and I watch her. She turns to look out the window and when she wrinkles her forehead in worry, she looks fifteen years old again. “You haven’t changed a bit,” I breathe, leaning closer to her.

She looks over at me with her huge eyes that we once so bright... But staring into them, I see a heavy unspoken pain... And I realize that I put it there. “But I have... Some ways for the better... Others for the worse... I’m sorry that I acted like such a spiteful baby over the last week.” Her head hangs as her cheeks flush crimson.

I see tears falling and landing on her folded hands. I take them into my own.

“If I’d have known...” she whimpers. “Dumbledore—”

“I’m the one that should be apologizing, Hermione... For the last eight years... I never tried to contact you... I didn’t Owl or Floo or just stop by...” She sobbing freely now, hot tears rolling down her cheeks and landing on my hands. “I could have kept you from so much pain.”

She turns her eyes to me. “I’ve hated you for all the wrong reasons... I—”

The carriage bumps to a stop. I hold her left hand. Something’s different... Somehow it doesn’t feel right. “Let’s go.”

We make our way into the castle and wind through its many tunnels. How strange to be back at Hogwarts... How strange indeed, considering how I had almost ceased to believe in this place. How it all seems like a distant dream... A fairy tale written in one of Hermione’s books...

I feel her tug at my hand. “Come on...” she sighs and we head up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore’s office.

She brandishes her wand from her cloak and we burst through the door.

Dumbledore sits with his back to us. The top of his white head is just visible over the top of the purple armchair he has pulled in front of the fireplace. “Yes...” he says softly. “I wondered when I would be seeing you two.” He turns to face us. “Hello, Harry Potter.”

The calmness of his voice irritates me so I flick my wrist and send sparks flying in his direction. “You’d better have a damn good reason as to why you’ve lied to Hermione and me for the past eight years.”

He crosses to his desk and sits, nodding slowly. “I protected you both,” he says finally.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione asks quickly, still holding her wand out.

Dumbledore looks between both of us. “I knew, Miss Granger, that you were with child shortly after the act of consummation occurred. Possibly before you began to suspect yourself. I thought it best not to confirm your suspicions, so I told Madame Pomfrey to feed you half-truths and whole-lies.” He stands and begins to pace in front of his desk. “Harry... I couldn’t tell you that Hermione was having your son. I couldn’t tell you that you had a family waiting for you.”

“Why not?” I feel the blood rushing to my head and I want nothing more than to fire an Unforgivable right into the git’s face.

“I thought that you would want to go be with them... I thought that Voldemort would mean nothing to you...” He sighs deeply. “I see now that it would have made you work harder to defeat him. It would have pushed you that little bit more that you needed. I was wrong...” He hangs his head. “I will be the first to admit it.”

I’ve heard enough. I raise my wand and start firing curses back and forth.

Hermione sends deflector charms after all of my curses.

Dumbledore sits at his desk quietly, tapping his fingers together. “Now, Harry—”

“Stop! Both of you, just stop!” James moves in between Hermione and Dumbledore.

“James! How did you get—”

“This is wrong, Mum...” James sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You and Harry can’t do this.” His eyes are a brilliant green as he stares between us. “Is this really how you want it to be, Harry?” he says quietly and I see so much of myself, yet so much of Ron, in him. “He was everything that you had for a long time, wasn’t he?”

Suddenly, Dumbledore gasps and clutches his chest. He crumples to the ground and I watch as his ice blue eyes close. His breathing is labored.

Hermione gasps and runs to him. “He’s out cold, Harry!” she yells at me.

The world is moving very slowly and everything is blurred.

“Harry!” she yells. “Floo St. Mungo’s! Go!”

I can’t move... I feel as if I’m stuck to the spot. I see James rush past me, his auburn hair flopping messily. He kneels on the floor and thrusts his head into the emerald flames yelling for St. Mungo’s.

I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “This is happening way too quickly...” I sigh to no one in particular, still rooted to the ground. “Twenty-four hours ago, I was Harry Potter... Now, I’m Harry Potter, father to James and killer of the Greatest Wizard Who Ever Lived...”

“He’s not dead yet, Harry Potter,” James tugs at my shirt-tail.

I nod. “They can cure anything at St. Mungo’s.” I look down at James and he grins the same gap-toothed grin that I did almost eighteen years ago. I suddenly feel very old.

He tilts his head to the right like Hermione does when she’s confused or thinking about something. “No...” he says and shakes his head slowly. “Dad told me that there was one thing that no magic could ever cure.”

“What was that?”

James raises his green eyes to me. “A broken heart.”

* * *

14 October

Dearest Hermione,

I’ve been dreaming about you, Hermione. Dreaming of all the wonderful things we’ll do when I get home to you... We’ll get married, Hermione! Wouldn’t you love that? Of course, you’ll have to finish Medi-Witch Training and I’ll have to complete my Auror Training before we can have children, but it’s a nice thought, isn’t it Hermione?

How many do you want, dearest? Children, I mean. Since I was alone so much in my childhood, I think I want a large family. How does nine sound? You know, Harry Jr. and Hermione Jr. (These are the twins, you see.) Then, Harriette, Hermes, Heather, Howie, Hayley, Harvey and Harley (More twins!) Isn’t that nice? (I had to give them all ‘H’ names because after we started with two, don’t you think the others would get jealous?

I think that would give the Weasleys a run for their money. Speaking of Weasleys, how are they? I hope everyone is doing fine. I want to be there so badly, but unfortunately, that’s not a possibility right now.

There was another battle a week ago, Hermione. It’s almost finished. I’ll be able to come home to you soon enough. We’re almost finished. The scar darkens with every confrontation, but I’m not sure if that’s significant or not. I suppose in some off-beat way it is, but I fail to see it.

Want to hear about the battle, love? No... Of course you don’t. I wouldn’t want to hear about a battle that you were in. I was pretty beat up a week or so ago, but I’m much better now. They took the dressings off my head this morning, and my scar’s almost completely healed! It splits open during every battle and bleeds for quite awhile... They say that’s why I’m so weak. I bleed so much.

Dearest, how I miss you. How I long to be there with you...

But I know that you know...

This is for our own good, Hermione... You realize that I’m doing this to protect us, right?

I know that you know.

I don’t need to keep telling you all of this, right, dear heart?

You’ll wait for me, won’t you Hermione? No matter how long it takes, you’ll be waiting, right?

I know that you will.

Because you’d never just desert me, isn’t that right, darling?

That’s right.

I love you.

All my love always,

Harry

15. Cheers, Darlin'

A/N: And there was much rejoicing! Hey! I hope everyone had a simply marvellous Christmas and I hope that the new year will bring many wonderful things to you and yours! That said, I’ve missed you guys! I wrote a little one-shot companion piece to this called ‘Daughters’. So, if you haven’t read that yet, be sure to because it gives broad hints to some things that will happen in this story. Now, I’m sure you’re all tired of me going on and on and on and not really saying anything, so before I completely lose you, read on! I’ll try to have the n ext chapter posted soon. This has definitely been the hardest part for me to write and I hope you’ll enjoy this little part. Thanks to my betas (Jennza, Jenna, and Lily) and here’s a nod to AJA! (See, I mentioned you!) ;) Read on!

~Ron~

Chapter Fifteen

Cheers, Darlin’

“Cheers, darlin’

Here’s to you and your lover boy

Cheers, darlin’

I got years to wait around for you

Cheers, darlin’

I got your wedding bells in my ear

Cheers, darlin’

You gave me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away

And I die when you mention his name

And I lie I should have kissed you

When we were running in the rain

What am I, darlin’?

A whisper in your ear

A piece of your cake

What am I, darlin’

A boy you can fear

Or your biggest mistake...
Cheers, darlin'
Here's to you and your lover man
Cheers darlin'
I’ll just hang around and eat from a can
Cheers darlin'
I got a ribbon of green on my guitar
Cheers, darlin'
I got a beauty queen
To sit not very far from me
I die when he comes around to take you home
I'm too shy I should have kissed you
When we were alone
What am I, darlin’?
A whisper in your ear?
A piece of your cake?
What am I, darlin’?
The boy you can fear?
Or your biggest mistake?
What am I?
Here’s to you and your lover
What am I, darlin’?
I got years to wait around for you”

‘Cheers, Darlin’

—Damien Rice

“Bloody git,” I mutter, exhaling the smoke from my cigarette. I only smoke when I’m very upset and this happens to be one of my worst chain smoking binges ever. The smoke burns my eyes and the Firewhiskey stings my throat. In a way, I’m quite glad; it gives me an excuse for the tears. I’ve tried to quell them, only to find them unstoppable. They roll down my cheeks relentlessly, leaving shiny streaks on my pallid skin. I can’t stop staring at myself in the mirror behind the countless bottles of liquor in the bar. And I can’t reason why... I look awful. I extinguish the butt of my cigarette and light another.

“Can I have a light?” asks a sweet and oddly familiar voice from behind me.

I turn.“Luna?”

“Oh, hello, Ronald. I thought that was you.” Luna Lovegood sits beside me and flips her long dirty-blonde hair behind her shoulder. “And I must admit, I recognised your hair rather than anything else. Still flaming red, I see.” She sighs. “So, how about that light?”

I notice that she doesn’t have a cigarette. “Erm... Do you need something to smoke?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Oh, Ronald! I don’t smoke. Find it a disgusting habit, actually.” She pulls a piece of parchment out of her lime green robes. “Can you light this for me?”

I put my wand to the parchment, mutter the charm, and watch it curl. “What are you doing?”

Luna puts her face close, but not too close to the parchment. “Fire fascinates me. It’s almost as if it’s alive. It’s born... It breathes oxygen... When its resources are depleted it dies... Very much like mankind, don’t you think?”

The cigarette dangles on my lip. I pull it away. “Right...” So I see she’s just as strange as she was when we were in school.

She sighs and sips a glass of water. “So... How are you and Hermione?”

I snort and take a drag from the cigarette. “Fine.”

“Really?”

I nod and take a drink of Firewhiskey.

“You always were a horrible liar.” She eyes me and twirls a strand of hair around her finger.

I blow the smoke in her face.

She coughs. “That was a little rude, Ronald...”

“Well, who in bloody hell are you to come nosing into my life? Where have you been since Hogwarts?”

“Training,” she says simply. “In the States. I decided to become a Healer.”

“Well, I knew that!” I scoff.

“Then why did you ask?” she replies coolly.

“Touche.” I drain the glass of Firewhiskey and nod for another. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Anyway, St. Mungo’s contacted me about a month ago— Actually, can I have another water, please— and told me that they had an open position if I wanted to come home. I kept meaning to look you up and pay a visit, but I’ve been working all of the time. I’m on call tonight, actually.” She smiles at me. “So, what have you and Hermione been up to?”

I shake my head and chuckle. “You never give up, do you?”

She shrugs. “It depends. I’m interested in seeing what I missed. I heard that Harry was back...”

I scoff. “Yeah...” I pull another cigarette out of the pack and light it. “Bloody git...” I mutter again.

“Want to talk about it?” she questions me.

“Not really...” I sip my new glass of Firewhiskey.

“Okay—”

“Well, actually... Since you asked...” I rest my chin on my hand and look over at her. “I mean... You know me pretty well, right?”

“Well, I did date you...”

“Right... And I’m a pretty respectable person, right?”

She nods.

“All right... So what does Harry have that I don’t?”

“Well, I—”

“I mean, sure, he’s the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, but like that matters. Who was there for her during the thirty-eight hours of labour?”

“Ronald, I don’t think that—”

“And...” I lean closer to her. “You know what? He wasn’t even mine... I’ve raised Harry Potter’s son... I’ve done it all... I stood by her through everything! And what do I get in return?”

“I—”

“She just runs right off with him. No telling what they’re doing now...” I empty the glass. “I don’t even want to think about it...”

Luna stares at me. “I think I’ve missed something...”

I nod. “You have no idea.”

We sit in an uncomfortable quiet for a moment.

“So you and Hermione are still married?” she asks, egging on the conversation.

“Yep.” All right, so I’m a little bit embarrassed because of my outburst...

“You love her a lot, right?”

“More than life itself.”

She half-smiles. “I could tell. After you broke up with her and she and Harry got together... Even though you accepted my offer for a date and even after we’d been together for a while... I could tell by the way you looked at her.” She sighs. “It hurt for a while... Then I guess I figured out that you wouldn’t be happy with anyone but her...”

“She was my everything... I had her there for a while... Then he had to step in.”

“Are you talking about now or then?”

I shrug. “I don’t know...” I twist my wedding band nervously.

“It was noble of you... Raising his son like that...”

I look up at her. “How did you...”

“You just told me...”

“Oh.” I remember... Kind of.

“Well, this is awkward...” she says to no one.

I nod. “Yep.” I turn my attention to a wizard who is asking Seamus if a room is available.

“Leaky Cauldron full, eh?” Seamus asks the inquirer.

The wizard nods and Parvati leads the man upstairs. “You’re lucky...” I hear her tell him. “This is the last room. Ever since everyone heard that Harry Potter was back...”

“Bloody hell...” I mutter.

“What?” Luna asks from beside me.

“I’ve just realised... I have no where to stay tonight.”

Luna wrinkles her forehead. “Well... I have a flat... But you’d have to sleep on the couch. And there are boxes everywhere. I’ve not been home enough lately to unpack anything but the necessities...”

“Oh, no!” I say quickly. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea or anything. “I couldn’t impose, Luna!”

“Hey,” she winks at me. “My couch is always open to any ex-boyfriend that needs it.”

I smile. “I would really appreciate it...”

She shrugs. “Well, let’s go then.”

Her flat turns out to be a Muggle flat not far from St. Mungo’s. “Easy access...” she mutters as she unlocks the door and we step inside. She sets her wand on the dining table and sighs. “Home sweet home.”

“Wow...” I breathe. “You weren’t kidding.”

There are piles of boxes sitting around and the furniture is the bare minimum. A couch sits in the middle of the living room and a coffee table is piled high with dishes. “Sorry...” she brushes past me and grabs the bowls.

“Why don’t you just use your wand?” I shrug watching her carry them to the sink.

“It’s a Muggle building, Ronald... Oh! I’ll get your blankets.” She bustles down the hall and I see her wand tip flare.

“Lu... Luna! Your wand is flashing!” I call to her.

“Oh...” I hear a muffled call and she throws the blanket to me as she picks up her wand. “Emergency... Come... immediately...” she says slowly.

Apparently the flashes make some sort of sense to her. “Wh... What?”

“There’s an emergency at St. Mungo’s. They need me.” She pulls her cloak on. “I hate to leave you like this... Erm... You can eat what you can find if you get hungry, which I know you will... The toilet is down the hall... If you need anything... Come find me at the hospital. I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She pauses, hand on the door frame. “It’s nice being back. Goodbye, Ronald.”

“‘Bye...” I call as she shuts the door. I collapse onto the couch and look around at the bare walls. “Oh, I should not be here right now...”

I pick up an old edition of The Quibbler and leaf through it, stopping every now and then to snigger.

“Ronald...” I look up and see Luna standing in the doorway.

“I thought you went to work...” I close the paper and stand up.

She nods and I notice how pale her face is. “I think you need to come with me.”

“Why? Is it James? Hermione? Ginny? Mum or Dad?”

She shakes her head. “Just... Come.”

I pull on my coat and follow her. Maybe I’ll find Harry lying there in a half dead state... I smile.

Is that bad?

* * *

I rock back and forth on my heels. Dumbledore smiles confidently at me and Ginny makes her way down the aisle.

Mum nods to the four-piece string quartet and they begin playing the wedding march. The great double doors open and Hermione starts down the aisle. Her stomach has been charmed flat for the occasion (honestly, we don’t need anymore rumours than necessary floating around) and I can tell that she hates it. I don’t like it very much either. The lack of the little rounded pooch she has makes her look incomplete. She looks more delicate this way... Like a porcelain doll that could break when someone looks at it the wrong way.

Her father escorts her down the aisle and she looks up once and smiles at me. When they reach us, her father kisses her cheek and gives her hand to me. I take it and we face Dumbledore.

I hear nothing. I reply when necessary but the whole of my attention is focussed on Hermione. I try to read her expression. Is she happy? Upset? Discouraged? Rueful?

She says her vows half-heartedly and I squeeze her hand encouragingly. She slips the ring onto my finger almost reluctantly and when Dumbledore pronounces us husband and wife, I see a tiny tear trickle from her left eye. I kiss it away and then land my lips on hers, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her closer to me.

Surprisingly, she places her arms around my neck and kisses me back. It’s almost like we really were getting married... But no... I couldn’t be that lucky... I couldn’t get her on my own... She’s mine by default.

I pull away from her and she smiles at me. I lean closer to her. “I’ll always love you, ‘Mione... Even if you can’t love me yet...”

She nods. “I know, Ron... That’s one reason I married you.”

As we walk out into the entrance hall, I realise that it will be my goal in life to make her love me as much as she loves Harry.

And as we dance our first dance as a married couple, I realise that my goal will never be achieved.

16. Breathing

A/N: So here it is... It’s definitely not the best... But I don’t think it’s the worst either... It’s not very long, though, but I know exactly where the next chapter is heading so it should be out in no time. So sorry for all the wait, but I promise that I haven’t forgotten about you all! I’m just very, very busy... So hang in there with me and we’ll get to the end eventually!

Harry

Chapter Sixteen:

Breathing

“I’m finding my way back to sanity again

Though I don’t really know what I’m going to do when I get there

Take a breath and hold on tight

Spin around one more time

And gracefully fall back into the arms of grace

“I am hanging on every word you say

And even if you don’t want to speak tonight

That’s all right, all right with me

‘Cause I want nothing more

Than to sit outside heaven’s door

And listen to you breathing

It’s where I want to be

“I’m looking past the shadows in my mind into the truth

And I’m trying to identify the voices in my head

God, which one’s you?

Let me feel one more time

What it feels like to feel

And break these callouses off of me one more time...

”I don’t want a thing from you

Bet you’re tired of me waiting

For the scraps to fall off your table to the ground

I just want to be here now...”

‘Breathing’

—Lifehouse

Hermione is finally sleeping.

We sat here for an hour before she finally gave into the sleep that she denied needing. She’s resting her head on the wall behind us and James is curled up in the chair at the end of the row. He’s changed completely now. A mop of messy black hair falls over his eyes and he crinkles his nose like Hermione does when she sleeps.

Hermione sighs and lays her head on my shoulder. A twig of her hair escapes the messy ponytail and falls across her nose. I push it away with my finger and—

“So!” Ron storms into the waiting room.

Hermione and James jump out of their sleep.

“So, this is what I get!” As Ron approaches us, his entire face seems to turn the same colour red as his hair.

Hermione stands calmly and takes a step towards him. “You’ve been smoking.”

“What does that have to do with anything, Hermione?”

“Let’s go outside.” She takes his arm and leads him toward the door. “Harry, please keep an eye on James...”

I nod and watch as she leads him through the door and into the damp night.

James sits up and blinks sleepily. “I’m named after you, you know.”

I nod. “Yes, James... Yes, you are,” I say quietly, picking at my thumbnail.

“They haven’t done that in a long time...” he says after a minute.

“Who... done what?”

“My mum and dad... Fighting like that... They haven’t fought in a long time.” He picks at his thumbnail.

“They used to?”

He nods. “When I was little, I used to stay up and listen to them fight... They used to fight on my birthday and on their anniversary. It was tradition. They’d send me up to bed and then go back downstairs and fight.”

“Oh...” I sit, stunned. “Well, do you know what they fought about?”

He nods and raises his green eyes to me. “You.”

“Do you know why they fought?”

He shakes his head. “No... But... I think my mum loved you and dad didn’t like it very much. He’s very jealous. Mum says that’s where I get it.”

It hurts me to be talking to my son and knowing that he doesn’t know...

“My earliest memory is of my mum tucking me into bed,” he states simply. “She smells like—”

“Vanilla...” I say softly.

“Yeah!” He exclaims. “How did you know that?”

“Well...” I sigh. How much does he know about me? “You did know that your mum, dad, and I were friends when we were in Hogwarts, right?”

“Of course!” he nods. “Everyone knows that!”

“Well,” I being slowly. “Your mum and I were a kind of special friends—”

“Have you kissed my mum?” He wrinkles his nose and looks up at me.

I nod. “Yes, I have.”

“Eww... Girls are gross!”

I tousle his hair. “You won’t always think that.”

He smiles up at me as Ron and Hermione come back inside. Ron sits across from James and puts his head in his hands. Hermione turns her head to the side to hide her red eyes and nose and ducks into the toilet.

James tugs on my sleeve and motions for me to bend down. “I wish that you were my dad, Harry Potter...” he whispers.

My heart sinks. “Me, too, James...”

Luna steps into the room. “Harry... He’s awake and asking for you... “

I nod. “James, sit out here with your dad, all right? Your mum won’t be much longer.”

He grins up at me and I follow Luna into Dumbledore’s room.

It’s dark, only illuminated only by the steady blue flash of light that serves as the heart monitor. “Yes, Professor?”

“Sit down, Harry. I have much to explain.”

He looks so frail and weak underneath the bed clothes that I don’t feel as if I’m talking to one of the most powerful wizards to have ever lived. I suddenly feel like I need to apologize. “I’m sorry, Professor, I—”

“I have asked you numerous times to call me Albus, Harry and there is no need for an apology. I truly brought this upon myself. Minerva and Poppy have been telling me for years that I’m far too old to be doing this and I see now that they were right... I am being kept alive by one of Miss Lovegood’s sustenance charms therefore my time with you is limited. After our conversation, I will ask her to sever the charm and I will begin life’s next and perhaps, greatest journey,” he smiles up at me.

“You mean...”

He laughs. “I am going to, as the Muggles say, ‘pull the plug’. I’ve had a full life, Harry... I’m tired of being here. I want to see what’s next. Now, onto the matters of business that I called you in here to discuss. I know you feel very betrayed, but, Harry, please try to understand where I was coming from. I only wanted what was best for the wizarding world, and, at that time, I felt that pushing you toward the final battle would be for the best, but I will be the first to admit that I was mistaken.”

“You mean you were being selfish?” I supply acidly.

He nods. “Yes... I did get a bit carried away.”

“Tell me this... Why did you let Hermione marry Ron when you knew that I was alive? Why didn’t you tell her? What happened to my letters?”

“I neglected to tell her because I didn’t want her to have false hope.”

“What?” That is possibly the worst answer he could have given me.

“Again, I was wrong... I didn’t want her to have to deal with the stigma of being an unmarried mother in our society. And especially since it was your baby... Can you imagine? Even if you had defeated Voldemort, there would always be the Death Eater that got away. Had James been raised as Harry Potter’s son, he probably would not have lasted this long. Another situation I considered was what if you hadn’t defeated Voldemort but died trying. Voldemort would still be on the loose and gaining power. I thought about using your son... Can you imagine the possibilities? Harry Potter and Hermione Granger’s son... James is immensely talented already.”

“Then that explains that scene in your office...” Slowly, everything is coming together. “James shares Hermione’s and my power... Which means that he shares a bit of Voldemort’s powers also... Is James a Parslemouth?”

Albus shakes his white head. “We don’t know yet. The opportunity has never presented itself.” He chuckles. “I expected you to be a bit more upset with me, Harry.”

“How can I be upset with a man who is about to die? I am very disappointed, though...”

“About those letters... All of them are in a box in my office in the cabinet with my Pensieve. And if, after tonight, you still seek answers, you may peruse my Pensieve to your heart’s content. I shall never hear of it. Now, if you don’t have any more questions...”

“Just one, Professor.”

“Yes, Harry?”

“May I step outside and get Hermione and Ron? They need to be here too...”

He nods. “Of course. But do hurry. I’m dreaming of a land where you can never have too many woolen socks...”

I stand and step out into the waiting room. “Hermione, Ron... Dumbledore is having Luna sever his sustenance charm and he wants us all to be there.”

Hermione nods. “James, sit right there and wait, all right?”

“Of course, Mummy...”

Hermione and Ron follow me into Dumbledore’s room. Hermione sinks into the chair beside his bed. “Thank you, Professor...” she whispers, gently stroking his hand and I can see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Don’t be sad for me!” he says jovially. “Merlin and I will be able to have very meaningful conversations! And I’ll still be watching over you all... In my own way... Now, if you please, Miss Lovegood... Life does bore me... See you in the hereafter!” He takes in a deep breath and nods to Luna.

With a quavering hand, she mutters the spell to stop the charm and we watch as the blue flashes come farther and farther apart... Hermione is weeping silently and Ron stands behind her with his arms crossed staring at Professor Dumbledore.

The light flashes one last time and we are plunged into a world of darkness.

***

1 December

Dearest Hermione,

We buried Alastor Moody today. I think it shocked us all. It reminded us that we’re not invincible and that someday we could all just as easily end up dead. I don’t want to think like that Hermione... Please tell me that there’s still some good left in the world...

Sometimes I just want to throw myself in front of Voldemort and let him fire unforgiveables at me... I don’t even care anymore... If it weren’t for you, Hermione, I might not be alive right now... Can you imagine that? Sometimes I wish that you would write me back... But I’m sure you’re too busy to ever think about me, right, Hermione?

How is Ron? I miss him... Tell him that, will you please? Maybe I’ll write him something when I’m done with this one... Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

So have you thought any more about the children’s names? I was thinking, what if we gave them all a ‘J’ middle name that way we could all have the same initials? Yeah, you’re right... That would get confusing when it came time for school trunks... Well, then, what if we did it alphabetically? Harry James, Hermione Kae, Harriette Laura, Hermes Mitchell, Heather Nicole, Howie Othello, Hayley Paige, Harvey Quinton and Harley Rae. I think that would work, don’t you? Or we could just number them, I suppose...

Anyway, if I’m going to write Ron then I better. Please see that he gets it.

I love you.

All my love always,

Harry

Dear Ron,

How are you, mate? I’m writing to you because I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that if anything happens to me out here you’ll keep Hermione safe. Go to any means necessary (unless you have to marry her or something idiotic like that) to protect her. For some reason, I keep getting the sinking feeling that something is wrong.

We buried Alastor Moody today, Ron, and that got me thinking... I think that I’ve finally realised that I’m probably going to die out here. Don’t tell Hermione that... It would just scare her, and Merlin knows that’s the last thing that I want to do right now. See, I can tell you this stuff, Ron, because we’re mates. I can trust you... I can trust you to take care of Hermione without being tempted by her... And I trust her. I trust both of you. I feel like you’ll come through this all right... I only wish that I felt the same way for myself... I don’t know why I all of a sudden feel so strangely... It’s just a very surreal feeling. I almost feel like I’m walking through a very dense fog with no light.

Protect her, Ron. If you don’t, I will find out. And if I find out, I will tear you limb from limb and feed you to Remus at the next full moon. No, I’m just kidding (about the feeding you to Remus at the next full moon part, not about the tearing you limb from limb part... Or I could find someway to get rid of you if you think that’s too messy... Anyway, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again... I trust you. You know that. That’s why I left you to take care of her. When/if I get back, I’ll make sure she’s taken care of, but I don’t like being out here and not knowing...

Anyway, before I start rambling and going on and on about the same thing over and over again, which the healer says is perfectly normal for such a traumatic head wound, (don’t tell Hermione that, especially... That would upset her.) though, so, I’m not too worried.

Goodbye, Ron.

Take care of her.

I mean it, Ron.

Take care of her.

No matter what.

Harry.

17. Beautiful Disaster

All right... Well, here you are. Man, I can’t believe it’s been four months since I posted on this. I’m so sorry, but graduation and end of school activities swamped me. Then over the summer when I’m supposed to have endless time to write, I catch mono and get ordered to stay in bed for two weeks. But, after I convinced my mother that I was well enough to not sleep 15 hours a day, she gave me a notebook and told me to write away so y’all get this. Now, I’m here to tell you that’s it’s not the best, but I don’t think it’s the worst either. However, you can be the judge of that. And you actually get a cookie crumble from the next chapter because it’s kind of written at the moment. Oh, and I’m well aware that as of Saturday, July 16, 2005 this story has become grossly AU, but that’s all right, because I started this last summer before I knew so anyway... Here is Chapter 17. Do enjoy.

~Hermione~

Chapter Seventeen:

Beautiful Disaster

“He’s magic and myth

As strong as what I believe

A tragedy with more damage than a soul should see

And do I try to change him

So hard not to blame him

Hold on tight

Hold on tight

I’m longing for love and the logical

But he’s only happy hysterical

I’m waiting for some kind of miracle

Waiting so long

He’s soft to the touch

But frayed at the ends he breaks

He’s never enough

And still he’s more than I can take...”

‘Beautiful Disaster’

—Kelly Clarkson

Two hours later, I’m sitting in the floor of Dumbledore’s office sifting through a box of letters each addressed to me. “I don’t believe this,” I say quietly, rubbing my eyes. “I just can’t see how he could do this to us...”

Harry shrugs and sinks to the floor beside me. “I don’t know... But I never knew why Dumbledore did a lot of the things he did...”

We sit in an uncomfortable silence. “Look,” I finally say. “I know that I’ve been... Well, let’s just say that I would completely understand if you never wanted to speak to me again... I mean, I’ve not been particularly pleasant since you returned. But I won’t make excuses. I won’t try to blame Dumbledore or Ron...” I can feel the lump rising in my throat. “Because it’s my fault. Nobody’s but mine. And I accept full responsibility for my actions over the last week. The money, everything.” I’m crying freely now and am surprised to find that I don’t care.

Harry nods and clears his throat. “Well, I won’t argue with you. You did seem to enjoy ‘Pick-on-Harry’ week... But I understand. I think that it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. I should have tried harder to contact you. I shouldn’t have waited so long to come back. I–“

”Where were you?” I interrupt. “I mean, after Voldemort. Where did you go?”

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I went... Well, I went everywhere really. I was in the States most of the time finding the American equivalent to the Death Eaters. I went to Russia and China... I was in Australia for a while. I was just everywhere. I never stopped thinking about you, though.”

I hug my knees to my chest. “And you had contact with DUmbledore the entire time?”

“No. We lost touch after the final battle with Voldemort.”

“Oh.”

His eyes land on James, who is curled up in a chair, his glasses askew and his dark hair sticking up in every direction. Harry sighs. “I wish I’d known...”

I nod. “Me too.”

“You know,” he says, turning to me, “I don’t expect you to leave Ron for me, Hermione. I can see that you two are happy in your relationship... And I really don’t want that on my karma.”

I half-smile. “That’s very noble of you,” I say truthfully.

“But, erm...” He clears his throat. “I would like to know James. He can know me as an old friend or... I don’t care, but I want to know my son.”

I watch James sleeping. “We... I had always planned on telling him. The spell only works until he comes of age. I was going to tell him when he was ready.”

“He seems like an amazing child,” Harry says, and the way he says it almost breaks my heart. I can’t stand to hear that trace of longing in his voice.

I nod. “He is... And he deserves to know that he has an amazing father.”

Harry looks up at me and I see tears welling up in his eyes. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

I practically tackle him. Before I know it, we’re holding onto one another for dear life and crying. This is the most physical contact we’ve had since he left and as I realise it, I feel myself dissolve into him. Suddenly, all of this just feels right. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to feel his arms around me and to just know that everything will be all right.

I hear his voice in my ear; “What are you thinking about, Hermione?”

I pull away from him. “I’d forgotten what you felt like. I... I’d forgotten how you smelled... I’d forgotten what you were and how I felt when I’m with you. I’m... I’m still in love with you.”

He shakes his head. “No... No, you’re not. You’re just letting your emotions run away with you. You’re in love with Ron.”

I nod. “I know. I love him too.” I can’t bring myself to look at him after my outburst. I sigh. “I... I’m sor—“

”No,” he cuts me off. “Don’t worry about it. I know. But maybe...” He nods. “It’s fate. Maybe in another time and place. If we were meant to be together, we’d be together.”

“Fate brought us here, huh?” I question him, shrugging.

“It just wasn’t in the stars,” he adds.

“Harry, I hated Divination, remember? I think it was the only thing I ever quit in my life.”

He laughs. “Just because you couldn’t learn it from a book.”

I smile. “You’re probably right.”

He studies my face. “I really missed you, Hermione. I’m not half as smart without you.” We laugh. “Hey,” he says suddenly. “Are you hungry?”

I nod. “Yeah, a little.”

“Me, too. I’m going to go see what the house elves can round up. I’ll be right back.”

I watch as he exits the office and I pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them. I sigh happily. Harry and I have had a rebirth.

“Mum?” James is awake.

“Hey, sleepy,” I greet him. “Did you sleep well?”

He nods and I watch as he wanders around the room taking in the portraits of the previous headmasters. He comes to the end and stop, staring in awe. Then I realise that he’s staring into a mirror and it’s the first time he’s seen himself since he changed fully. I can see the questions on his face... Ready or not...

“Mum?” he says quietly, fingering his hair.

“Yes, James?” I stand up and cross over to him.

“Erm...” He touches his glasses and turns to face me. “This is kind of weird but... Is Ron really my dad... Or is it Harry?”

“James,” I lead him to a chair. “Now, I don’t expect you to understand all of this right now... And you’re eight years old, there’s no reason you should have to—“

”Mum... Just tell me.”

I rub my eyes and sigh. “Ron will always be your dad, but... Biologically, Harry is your father.”

He nods. “When I was smaller, I used to wish and wish that Harry Potter was my dad... I just never knew how close to right I came. Erm... Well, why... Does he not love me like you and Dad—Ron do?”

I pull my son to me. “James... He... That’s a story for when you’re a bit older... But he loves you very much and he really wants to spend time with you... That is, if you want him to...”

James pushes away from me and nods enthusiastically. “Of course! I told you, Mum, I love Harry Potter! And... He told me that you used to kiss him...”

I laugh. “Yes, I did.”

“Well, then, do you love him, too?”

I close my eyes and sigh. “I think so.”

***

“Listen, Hermione,” Professor McGonagall is saying to me. “You just have to bear down and push the baby out.”

I can feel the hot tears coursing down my face. “I can’t!” I wail. “It hurts too badly!”

“Hermione,” she says sternly. “unless you can get past the pain, we’re going to be here for a very long time. Tell her, Poppy.”

Madame Pomfrey nods. “You’re so close and you’ve done so well this far. Come on, Hermione, it’s just another big push and there it is. Come on.”

I whimper. “How long have we been here?”

“Thirty-eight hours,” Ron says sleepily from my side. “Come on, Herms... Just do this so we can all relax.”

“Yeah?” I ask him.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“All right...” I sit up and allow them to coach me through the next contraction and before I know it, a little pink mess is laying in my arms screaming at the top of its lungs.

Professor McGonagall sinks onto the bed beside me and wipes her brow.

Madam Pomfrey sighs. “Date of birth, March 4. Time of birth, 11:23 pm.” She smiles at me. “It’s a boy, Hermione. Wonderful job.”

I laugh and stare at the little thing in my arms that has quit screaming and opened his eyes to stare at me. He has a messy mop of dark hair and his eyes are blue now but—

“They’ll probably turn green before long,” Madame Pomfrey smiles at me. “What are you naming him?”

“I... I don’t know... I hadn’t even thought about it...” I just want to look at him. I count his fingers and toes... “He’s... He’s perfect.”

Ron stands behind me. “Well... He has your nose, ‘Mione...”

I stifle a sob. “Yeah... He looks just like Harry...”

Ron nods. “That he does... So what about it, Hermione? He’s got to have a name.”

“Harry,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. “We’ll name him Harry James after his father for honour. But let’s call him James... Harry would be too hurtful.”

Professor McGonagall nods. “I think that would be lovely.”

“Well,” Madame Pomfrey says quietly. “I think we should leave you three alone for a minute.” She and Professor McGonagall smile at me and disappear into the entrance hall.

“Well?” I ask Ron.

He nods. “You did well. It... He’s perfect, Hermione.”

I smile. “Oh... I don’t know what I would do without you, Ron. You’re like my guardian angel.”

He shrugs. “Can I hold him?”

“Sure.” I hand the tiny thing to Ron and watch as his eyes light up when his arms are full of baby and blanket.

“Hi...” he says quietly to him. “I’m... I’m Ron... I’m your godfather and I just want you to know, that if you ever need anything to let me know because I’m... Well, I’m here for you.” James chooses this moment to begin crying again. “What did I do?” Ron holds James at arm’s length. “What’s wrong with him?”

I laugh. “I think he’s hungry. Hand him to me and I’ll feed him.” I hold my arms out.

Ron lays James in my arms and looks genuinely frightened.

“It’s okay...” I reassure him. “He’s just like you and gets cranky when he doesn’t get food. He’ll be okay now.”

He kisses my forehead. “You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now, Hermione, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

I scoff. “Right, my hair hasn’t been combed in almost two days, I’m sweaty and not to mention, I still have to lose my baby weight.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care. You look amazing with him. It’s incredible. I just... I want you to know that I will take care of James like he was my own and I... Well, I’ll always be here for the two of you.”

I smile at him. “I know. That’s one of the reasons I married you.”

TEASER

She folds her hands on her lap. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

I shrug. “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know...” I’ll never admit that I’m afraid of what might have happened between her and Harry.

18. Listen to Your Heart

Well, here it is... Oh, man.... I’m so sorry that it took so long... I’ve been so busy, you have no idea. Thank you all so very much for your patience. We’re almost through and what a relief it will be. Almost two years of my life have gone into this story and you all have helped make it what it is. Right now, we’re looking at 21 chapters and we’re beginning to wrap everything up, so I don’t think it will take very much longer, but please don’t quote me on that because I don’t want to disappoint you at all. Anyway... Please enjoy this and reply and I’ll get you the next chapter as soon as possible (although, I don’t have any school this week so I may be able to finish it up soon...)

And if you haven’t seen HP4 yet, OMG, what are you waiting for???? Oh, the bathtubby goodness...

Chapter Eighteen:

Listen to Your Heart

“And there are voices that want to be heard.
So much to mention but you can't find the words.
The scent of magic, the beauty that's been

When love was wilder than the wind....”

“Listen to your heart when he's calling for you.
Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do.
I don't know where you're going and I don't know why,
But listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye...”

‘Listen to Your Heart’

--Roxette

“Hey,” Hermione greets me as she pops into the kitchen.

I swallow my last gulp of Firewhiskey. “Hi. Is James still with Mum?" I stand and cross to the counter as Hermione sits in the chair opposite my spot at the table.

She nods. "Yes... I, erm... Well, Harry took him. He said that you and I probably had a lot to talk about."

"Oh... So, how did things go at the castle?”

She sighs. “Fine. We... erm... We sorted a lot out.”

I open the cabinet and take out another glass, unscrew the top of the Firewhiskey, and fill both glasses. “Well, that’s good...” I turn from the cabinet and offer her the Firewhiskey. “Drink this.”

She takes it hesitantly and raises an eyebrow at me.

“I didn’t spike it this time,” I say quietly, settling back into my chair across from her. She stares incredulously at me. “Test it if you don’t believe me.”

She shakes her head. “No... I trust you.” She picks up the glass, takes a dainty sip and coughs as it goes down.

“It’s an acquired taste,” I chuckle.

She nods and takes a slightly larger drink.

“Hermione, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay.” She takes another drink, emptying her glass. “Can I have some more?”

I nod and reach for her glass. “Sure.”

She folds her hands on her lap. “You’re going to ask me what happened at the castle, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know...” I’ll never admit that I’m afraid of what might have happened between her and Harry.

"Well," she starts, "I think that you deserve to know. After all... You've been the one here with me for the last eight years."

I nod. "I... You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Hermione."

"I do want to, though - thank you - Actually... You need to know."

I take my place. "All right... I'm listening."

"There were letters. Boxes and boxes of letters... to you... to me..."

"So he did write?"

"Yes, but only until he lost contact with Dumbledore after the final battle five years ago. Anyway, I read all of the letters and I asked Harry where he'd been." She stops.

"And?"

"He was making sure the world was safe for us. All he wanted was for us to have a fighting chance..." She sighs and I can see the tears pooling in her eyes. “James...”

“He’s changed completely, irreversibly now hasn’t he?”

She nods. “Yes... He... He saw himself for the first time tonight, Ron...”

I feel a horrible knot grow in my stomach. “He did?”

“Yeah... He... Well—”

“He knows, doesn’t he?” I stare at the table.

“He... He asked me, Ron. He asked me about it...”

I shrug. “We always said we would tell him.”

“Not until he was older though...”

I look at her. “What does he think about it?”

“He took it very well. I don’t think he completely understands yet.”

“He shouldn’t have to.”

“I know... But he does. He wants to know Harry as a father too, Ron...” She puts a hand on my arm. “He will always love you, Ron... And so will I...”

“What are you getting at, Hermione?”

“I just... I just want you to know that I’ll never leave you for Harry. I wouldn’t betray you like that.”

“Yeah... That’s what I wanted to talk to you about... Hermione...” I pour myself some more Firewhiskey.

“What?”

I gulp it and pour another. “This isn’t exactly easy for me to say this to you, Hermione...”

“Then don’t say it,” she replies.

I shake my head. “You can’t keep doing this, Hermione...”

She looks confused. “Doing... what?”

“We can’t keep lying to ourselves like this.”

“What are you talking about?”

I bite my lip and weigh my words. I know that this is what she needs to hear and I know that she’ll be reluctant to admit to herself that she’s relieved to hear them. I glance down at my hands and my eyes land on my wedding ring. “Go to him...” I pull it slowly off my finger and set it on the table. Her eyes almost kill me so I look away quickly. I can see the pain in them.

“What?”

“Go to him...” I am suddenly aware of the lump that’s grown in my throat. “I’m not so thick, Hermione... I realise that you won’t ever be happy with me...”

She shakes her head. “But I’ve been with you for eight years—”

“But now that he’s back...” I stand and start pacing. “I can see it, Hermione. I can see that little glimmer of hope in your eyes... I can tell by the way you smile... I can hear it in your laugh and I know that you’ve dreamt about him... I can see that you want to be with him and no matter how much you tell yourself that you don’t...” My voice breaks. “You do... I know that you think that you shouldn’t want to feel what you do for him, but it’s going to kill us both if we don’t do something about this... I’ll... feel bad losing you... But I’ll feel worse knowing that I’m holding you back.”

She’s sitting at the table, crying freely, staring at me.

I kneel beside her chair. “You have the opportunity to go and live the life that you always dreamed of... I’ll still be there for James and you whenever you need me.” I kiss her hand.

“Ron...” She cups my cheek with her hand. “This isn’t fair to you. I can’t just... desert you. You’ve been everything to James and me forever... He... He’s never known Harry as his father. I’m scared for him.”

I shake my head. “No... You’re scared for yourself, ‘Mione... Just admit it. You’d have to follow your heart to be with him... You can’t let your head rule your life... I didn’t want it to come to this, but...” I wave my wand and my suitcases come flying down the stairs.

“What are you doing?” she asks, panic stricken.

I sigh. “If you won’t leave, then I will.”

She closes her eyes, nods a few times, and looks at me. “What are you—”

“I’m staying with Luna for awhile, just until things settle down. After Ginny and Draco’s wedding, I’ll move back to the Burrow. You and Harry can keep Number 12. It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

She runs and wraps me in a bone crushing hug. Then she turns her tearfilled eyes up at me and smiles. “Thank you...” she whispers.

I look down at her. “Live, Hermione... No one’s watching.”

* * *

I am woken at 3:07 am by James screaming at the top of his lungs. I swing my legs out of bed and start down the hall towards the nursery. As I pass Hermione’s room, I poke my head in and watch her throw a pillow over her head. I know she hears him and I know she doesn’t want to. I pull her door closed and step into the nursery. I scoop James up into my arms and he opens his wide green eyes at me. “Accio, milk,” I mutter and sink into Hermione’s rocking chair, catching the bottle that zooms toward me with an outstretched hand. I offer James the milk and as he eats, he stares up at me. I suddenly feel the need to talk to him as my best friend.

“Erm...” I clear my throat. “Hey, James... You know... I’m not your real dad but... He’d be here if he could be, I know it. He would never leave you and your mum by yourselves on purpose... He’s too noble for that...”

He blinks understandingly.

“I know that you can’t understand anything I’m saying to you... Come on, you’re a baby... You’re just three months old... But somehow... Oh, I don’t know... I guess you’re kind of like a channel to Harry... He’s your dad and your namesake... James, I only hope that I can be like a father to you... Because... Well... It’s be a year...” I take a deep breath and glance to the clock on the table beside my chair. My eyes land on a photo taken by Colin Creevey shortly before Harry left for the War. It’s incredibly candid of Harry and Hermione standing by the tree staring out at the lake, her head on his chest, his chin on her head, their arms wrapped around one another. It was probably one of the last moments they every had together.

It’s staring at this picture that makes me realise something...

“He’s not coming back...” I whisper, surprised at the sound of the words and the way they feel tumbling out of my mouth. “He loved her too much to stay gone this long... How am I to tell your mum, James? How am I supposed to be the one that tells her that? I don’t think I’m strong enough...” I feel a wave of unshed tears for my best friend well up behind my eyes. I look down through the watery mess and see James sound asleep in the crook of my arms. “Poor little bugger...”

I stand up carefully so as not to disturb him, step into the hall, and open the door to Hermione’s room. I sit gently on the bed.

She rolls over, her cheeks wet with fresh tears and looks at me.

She doesn’t have to verbalize it; I can see the unasked question in her eyes. “No...” I shake my head and she reaches for James.

There, in the June moonlight, the two of us curl up around James and cry much needed tears into the soft black hair of the only piece we have left of Harry Potter.

No Teaser this time, as I haven’t even started on the next chapter yet! Sorry, but I’ll try to get the next one up soon!

Happy Turkey for those in America with me.

Read? Reply! (*wink*)

19. Cry

Well, I could make excuses, but why would I? I hope everyone a joyous Chrismahanukwaanzakah (whatever you celebrate) and is ready for an exciting new year. Anyway, here’s chapter 19… You’ve been waiting for this one, so I hope you all enjoy reading it and much as I enjoyed FINALLY writing it. I’ll try not to take too long on the next chapter (I think I always say that, don’t I?) But anyway… I think that’s enough from me… Oh! One more thing… This song ‘Cry’ by James Blunt is awesome. Actually the entire CD is awesome and if you’ve ever heard anything by him and liked it, you would like the CD. This song just seemed to fit what I was writing, so I think you’ll see… Okay… I’m stopping now… I swear…

Chapter Nineteen:

Cry

“I have seen peace, I have seen pain

Resting on the shoulders of your name

Do you see the truth through all their lies?

Do you see the world through troubled eyes?

And if you want to talk about it anymore,

Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,

I’m a friend

“I have seen birth, I have seen death

Lived to see a lover’s final breath

Do you see my guilt? Should I feel fright?

Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?

And if you want to talk about it once again

On you I depend, I’ll cry on your shoulder

You’re a friend

“You and I have been through many things

I’ll hold on to your heart

I wouldn’t cry for anything

But don’t go tearing your life apart

“I have seen fear, I have seen faith

Seen the look of anger on your face

And if you want to talk about what will be

Come and sit with me, and cry on my shoulder

I’m a friend

And if you want to talk about it anymore

Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder

I’m a friend”

“Cry”

-James Blunt

“You’re a stupid, stupid git, Harry…” I splash cold water on my face and run my hand through my hair, making it stick up even more. “Stupid…” I drain the sink, dry my hands on a towel and throw the door open. I duck quickly into my room and throw myself onto my bed, deciding against it right after I land. “I have to leave…” I mutter. “I have to get out of here…” I pick up dirty sweaters and start throwing them into the trunk at the end of my bed.

“Harry?” says a sweet voice from within the doorway. “Harry, what are you doing?”

I smile. “‘She speaks. Oh, speak again bright angel!’” I turn to face her. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?” Hermione’s eyes grow wide and she steps closer to me. “Why would you want to leave?”

I cup her cheek in my hand. “Oh, Hermione…” I sigh. “I can’t be around here with you and Ron together… I’d end up killing him.”

She closes her eyes and presses her face into my palm. “He… He left me, Harry…”

I feel warm tears trickle across my fingers. “What?”

“He said that you and I belonged together… That we were fate… And who was to argue with fate? He’s moving in with Luna right now…”

“Well, he’s definitely not wasting any time!” I exclaim vehemently.

“Harry, it’s not like they’re getting married tomorrow. Luna’s offered him her couch as a friend until after Ginny and Draco’s wedding. After all, would you want him here while you are?”

I stare into her eyes. “God, I’ve missed this…”

She nods. “I know… We can be together now, Harry.”

“You’re not upset about Ron?”

She shrugs. “I should be… But we’ve grown so far apart… Our relationship was created out of convenience, it only makes sense that it end the same way. Our relationship was doomed from the beginning when we were both still in love with other people. Ron always knew that you and I would be together just like we did. If… Well, Ron will find his soul mate, I have no doubt. We just needed to realize that it wasn’t me.”

I smile. “I get you all to myself?”

“We have a son, Harry… James is…”

“He comes first to you, just like he should. Hermione, I won’t try to replace Ron. I understand that Ron has done my job for the last eight years… If James doesn’t want to recognize me as his father, I could hardly blame him.”

She shakes her head. “No, Harry… James loves you. He understands that you and Ron are both his fathers—“

“’James has two daddies?’” I joke and wrap my arms around her.

She lightly hits my shoulder. “He’s been incredibly mature about the whole thing…”

I rest my chin on her head. “He gets that from you…”

“You’re saying that after the way I’ve acted? He gets it from you… He’s incredibly self-driven… That he gets from both of us I suspect. My drive was in books, yours was in killing Voldemort.”

She’s babbling, which means that she’s nervous. “Hermione…” I whisper, bringing my lips dangerously close to hers.

She pulls away. “I’m still married, Harry…”

“Yes, how can we go about fixing that?”

“Well… Ron or I will draw up the papers and then once that party signs, the document will appear wherever the other spouse is. Once both have signed it, the rings disappear and all contracts are null and void.”

“Oh.” I’m a bit speechless.

“Yeah, it’s a lot faster than the Muggle way of doing things.”

Okay, so my plans for this evening are shot until Ron can draw up papers… “Well…”

“We can talk,” Hermione suggests, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to her.

I decline. “Nothing against you, Hermione, but I would have… thoughts if I sat next to you on a bed…”

She laughs. “You haven’t changed at all…” She whispers as I conjure a chair and pull it up in front of her. “It’s amazing…”

I rest my forehead on hers and our fingers somehow intertwine. “God, it’s incredible how they remember that.”

She sighs. “Harry, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, love…” I brush a tear away with my thumb. “There was never a time when I didn’t think of you… You were always the reason that I fought so hard. I couldn’t imagine doing anything but protecting you. You became my reason… I’m so glad to have you now…”

“You have no idea… what I went through…” Her voice breaks. “Not knowing… You said you’d never leave me…”

“Oh, baby…” I take her into my arms and just hold her. “I never will again. I promise… I promise… I’ll never leave you ever again…” We sit, the silence broken only by sniffles or the occasional gasp of breath. “I love you…” I whisper into her hair.

“Oh, Harry…” she says. “I love you too…”

There’s a faint tapping on the window. I rise and open it to allow in a majestic barn owl. “Who’s this, Hermione?”

“It’s Aphrodite… She’s my owl…” Hermione holds out her arm and the owl lands gracefully and sticks out its leg to revel a scribbled note. “’Hermione,’” she reads aloud. “’I’m having the divorce papers drawn up as you read this. All of my things have been moved into Luna’s. Number 12 is yours and Harry’s now. I won’t try to keep you two apart any longer. I’ve done enough damage as it is. Just remember that I love you, Hermione… I always loved you. Harry, mate… Take good care of her or I will tear you limb from limb and feed you to Remus at the next full moon. Ron.’”

I sigh as a bright flash illuminates the room. “Erm… Hermione… Here are your divorce papers…”

She crosses over to stand by the crimson document and nods. “It seems like it…” She takes the equally scarlet quill and sighs. “It just seems so… Final.”

I shrug. “I don’t want to rush you, Hermione. Do what you feel is best when you feel it’s for the best.”

She smiles at me. “Thank you, Harry… This is for the best… for all of us…” She takes a deep breath and signs her name neatly under Ron’s messy scrawl. No sooner than she dots the ‘I’ in her first name, the parchment rolls itself up, seals itself and vanishes. Her wedding ring glows red for a second then it disappears and she gasps. “Oh, Harry!” She rushes to my arms and lifts her face towards me. “I’ve dreamed of this moment since the night you left…”

I touch my nose to hers. “Are you still married?”

She shakes her head. “No… I’m yours.”

I nod. “That means I can do this then…” I plant my lips on hers and marvel at the feeling. I’ve forgotten how soft they were… I’ve forgotten what her hand felt like twisting in my hair… I’ve forgotten how her body presses perfectly into mine… I run my hand over her back and she deepens our chaste kiss. After a moment, I pull away and stare into her eyes. “We can wait if you--”

She shakes her head. “This is what I want. What I’ve always wanted.”

I grin. “Me too.”

* * *

I’m scared, Hermione. It’s the first time out here I’ve been scared. I know now that I will probably die, and that’s what scares me. I’m not scared of dying exactly… In fact, if it weren’t for you, I would have died a long time ago. I’m scared of leaving you alone. I don’t want you to go through life wondering ‘what if’. What if Harry had lived? What if we’d had a family like we’d talked about? What if Voldemort had lost?

God, Hermione, I just don’t want us to live in regret. I don’t want you to ever regret anything. Which was why I was so hesitant that night up on the Tower… I didn’t want you to regret anything. Because I know what it feels like to want something right next to you… I know what it’s like to see victory but not be able to claim it and I’ll be damned, Hermione, if I’m going to let you regret anything. The only thing that I want is your happiness, dear heart. I’d volunteer myself to Voldemort if it would make you happy. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you… You are my light, my soul, and my joy… You are the only thing in this world that saved me from myself…

So, if we don’t meet again in this life, if we never get to have our eight children, if we never get to touch each other again, and if I’m never allowed to breathe your name again, know this; I love you, Hermione Jane Granger.

I always have.

Read? Reply! Thankee muchly!

20. Green Eyes

Well... It’s been a while... (ducks tomatoes and other rotten fruits/vegetables being thrown at me) Anyway... Again... Mostly filler and just to move the story along... However, I did want each narrative character to have the chance to have a last say. One more left and should be out in no time because it’s pretty much written. *crosses fingers* Enjoy!

M.P.

Chapter 20:

Green Eyes

“Honey, you are the rock

Upon which I stand

And I come here to talk

I hope you understand

Green eyes, yeah, the spotlight shines upon you

And how could anybody deny you

I came here with a load

And it feels so much lighter

Now I met you

And, honey, you should know

That I could never go on without you

Green eyes

Honey, you are the sea

Upon which I float

And I came here to talk

I think you should know

Green eyes, you’re one that I wanted to find

And anyone who’d try to deny you

Must be out of their mind

‘Cause I came here with a load

And it feels so much lighter

Since I met you

And honey, you should know

That I could never go on without you

Green eyes

Honey, you are the rock

Upon which I stand”

‘Green Eyes’

–Coldplay

I wake up in the arms of my beloved, feeling lighter than I have in years. It appears that somehow, in the night, our bodies found each other and melded themselves together.

One thought crosses my mind; Ron and I never did this.

With my ear settled against Harry’s chest, I can hear his heart beating steadily. His skin is warm against my face and I find myself absentmindedly tracing an intricate scar that runs across his chest, left, I’m sure, by Voldemort or a death eater. My heart aches for him at this moment. His arms are slung loosely around my waist... And I feel so very loved.

Very quietly, so as not to disturb him, I untangle my limbs from his and slip quietly out the door and into the hallway of the Burrow. I make my way into the kitchen and see Ginny sitting at the table, bent over a sketch and eating a danish. “Good morning,” she says cheerfully and hands me a cup of coffee.

“What time is it?” I ask sleepily.

“10:30... Ish...” She grins at me in that very Ginny way.

“What?” I ask, sitting across from her.

“I saw you and Harry all cozy and cuddled up this morning... Care to explain that?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t done purposely or anything... We were talking and just fell asleep.”

“Talking?” she smirks,

“Yes, Gin, talking...”

“Just talking?” she raises an eyebrow at me.

“Well, we might have kissed a little bit too...” I feel my cheeks turn hot as soon as I say this.

“But you did sleep with him last night,” she says decisively.

“Sleep being the key word, Gin.”

She nods slyly but then furrows her brows together and twirls the pencil around in her fingers. “Erm... Luna came by earlier. She said that Ron drew up the papers last night.”

I glance down at my left hand where the absence of my wedding ring becomes suddenly obvious. “Yeah, he did.”

“So, I assume you signed them?” she asks tenderly.

I scoff. “You think I’d cuddle up to Harry before I had?”

“That’s why I assumed you had,” she says quietly.

We sit in uncomfortable silence for awhile until I decide to speak. “I can’t believe I slept so late! Why didn’t you wake me?”

Ginny shrugs. “You both just looked so peaceful and happy... God knows you’ve both waited long enough to be happy together... And it was such a long night for the both of you... I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you up... But I just really can’t believe you didn’t sleep with him last night.”

I smile. “I did sleep with him last night, Ginny.”

She sighs impatiently. “Yeah, but you didn’t sleep sleep with him last night.”

I shake my head. “No... No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

I sigh and try to plan what I’m going to say. How can I explain this to her? “Gin, has Draco ever been away on business for a while and suddenly you find yourself waiting for him to come back? Not just waiting... Has it ever become an obsession to you? You miss him so badly that all you can think about is him kissing you and touching you and you want to make love to him so badly... Then, he finally comes home and suddenly it doesn’t really matter whether or not he kisses you or touches you or if you make love for hours... All that matters is that he holds you and you meld into the most familiar places of his body and you lose yourself in his scent and you feel safer than you have since he left... Haven’t you ever felt that?”

Ginny stares at me, open-mouthed. “God, Hermione... You should write novels.”

I laugh. “Well, there are great deal of things that I should have done... But I suppose it’s too late for any ‘should haves’...”

Ginny shakes her head. “It’s never been too late for you, Hermione. You’ll do great things.”

“Thanks,” I answer her.

She clears her throat. “We’re moving up the wedding.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I won’t be able to hide Draco Junior for very much longer, and I don’t want to have a charmed stomach for my wedding. Everything’s all set.”

I gape at her. “When are you planning on having it then?”

Ginny laughs. “Tonight.”

“What?” I lurch forward in my chair. “But your dress isn’t finished. My dress isn’t finished. There’s no food, no tent, there’s nothing! We cannot have this wedding tonight!”

She shakes her head. “Yes, we can, and we will. Let me explain. After you and Harry went off to Hogwarts last night after James’s party, Draco and I quietly decided that it would be better to just do it and get it over with. Now that you and Ron are divorced... Well, there’s going to be enough focus on this family as it is... James has changed completely and... Well, you know that the press is going to be all over it. We keep it private until you make a statement.” She sighs. “Anyway, we sent owls to our very close family and friends. I never really wanted a big wedding anyway.”

I look her straight in the eye. “Liar.”

She laughs. “Okay, you caught me. We’ll have another service for the public later. This is a good thing, Hermione.”

I shake my head. “I just can’t understand how we’re going to be able to do all of this in so little time.”

She whirls her wand. “You underestimate the power of the wizarding world. Mum spent all last night cooking. Everything is outside just waiting to be zapped with one of her quick heat charms. The tent was set up earlier. The dresses are on their way from Madame Malkin’s. Everything’s going to be fine.”

I sigh. “If you say so.”

“G’morning...” Harry yawns as he steps into the kitchen. He kisses my temple and Ginny pours him a cup of coffee. “Thanks, Gin...” He sits between us.

“We’re going to a wedding tonight, Harry.”

“Really?” He asks. “Whose?”

Ginny smiles. “Mine.”

He nods. “That’s nice. Bit earlier than you expected, eh, Gin?”

She shrugs. “You know me. I never was predictable!”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Harry mutters.

* * *

“James, if you don’t try it on, then you can’t be in the wedding!” I plead with my son.

“I’m not going to wear that, Mum!” James sits in a chair in the middle of a Madame Malkin dressing room with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so very much like Harry at this moment.

“James...” I rub my temples. “We haven’t time for this. I am going to ask you to try on your clothes one more time and if you still refuse to do so, then I’ll just tell Aunt Ginny that you refuse to be her ring bearer.”

He grits his teeth and mutters, “It’s a skirt, Mum.”

“It’s a kilt, James, there’s a difference!”

He shrugs.

“All right, James,” Harry says from the dressing room beside us. “I’ve put on mine. Would you like to see?”

“I guess.”

Harry steps out of the dressing room in the kilt that Draco ordered for the wedding. It’s made of green, silver, and black tartan (an attribute to his Slytherin lineage, no doubt) and it makes the green of Harry’s eyes stand out. “See, James,” he says. “They’re actually quite nice. Now, will you try on the kilt?”

James looks up at me and sighs, but I know that he loves and admires Harry too much to tell him no.

I think we both have that problem.

* * *

I sit across from Ron. “I’ve decided something,” I state.

He looks up at me from his kippers. “What?”

I sigh. “I want to take a little piece of the money that Harry left me... Well, left James, and open a bookstore in Diagon Alley.”

Ron swallows, and takes a long drink of his pumpkin juice. “Why?”

“I can’t stand being here all day long with nothing to do but housework.”

“You have your books,” he answers.

“Exactly,” I stress. “If I could educate the youth of the wizarding world... I want to put a beloved book of my own into the hands of someone who is going to take it and love it and appreciate it as much as I have.”

“Well, what about James?”

“I’ll take him with me. He’s old enough now that I can put his bassinet behind the counter and let him sleep or play or whatever.”

Ron sighs. “You really want this, don’t you?”

I nod. “Books can’t ever leave me.”

* * *

“Oh, it’s perfect!” I gush as I’m led into the empty shop space in Diagon Alley right across the street from Gringott’s. Already I can envision shelves and shelves of books around the walls. I can smell the crisp pages of the new books and the musty smell of the older ones. I wrap my arms around myself and nod.

“Well?” Ron says quietly, stepping behind me. “Will this suffice?”

I smile. “Yeah... This will do just fine.”

TEASER (the LAST one)

I offer my arm to Hermione. “A waltz, milady?”

She nods and takes my hand in hers. We dance in silence for a while before she speaks. “I never really thanked you for what you did, Ron...” she mutters against my shoulder.

I shrug. “You never really had to.”

21. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

Well… I do want to apologize for it taking so long. I’ve actually had this chapter written for quite a while, just no computer to put it up with… But today is my birthday and I was given a laptop for it so, this shouldn’t happen anymore. I really feel horrible for making you all wait so long (and I really regret all the flames… technical difficulties can’t be helped, darlings). So, here’s the last chapter. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would also advise you to reread from beginning to end (as I did) if time allows you. But anyway… Please enjoy!

Chapter 21:

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

“I have climbed the highest mountains

I have roamed through the fields

Only to be with you

Only to be with you

I have roamed

I have crawled

I have scaled these city walls

These city walls

Only to be with you

But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…”

‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’

--U2 or Damien Rice (I prefer the Damien Rice version)

My sister is married.

And to Draco Malfoy of all people.

It really was a beautiful service.

I tried to make myself watch… But, somehow, I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on. I kept sneaking looks at Hermione, who, with a contented smile on her face, kept glancing between James (to make sure he was behaving himself) and Harry. But the entire service made me nostalgic. Throughout the wedding, I kept thinking back to my times with Hermione. Our engagement announcement and honeymoon… James’s birth and Hermione’s depression in the months that followed. The first time I made love to her… My desperate pleas for more children… It’s not the first time in the past few weeks that I’ve thought of happier moments, but it’s definitely the first time I’ve replayed every kiss, every touch, every glance, and every word to myself. My entire life for the last eight years has been devoted to making her happy… But I guess that I never really succeeded. And I never really had a chance. I knew all along that there was only a tiny part of her that would ever belong to me. She had given her heart and soul to Harry long before he had to leave. I suppose Hermione said it best to Harry, ‘We were both in love with other people.’ She was still very much in love with a Harry that was gone and I was still very much in love with a Hermione that I would never have. By the time I pulled myself out of my reverie, Draco was kissing Ginny and they had been officially pronounced man and wife.

Neville catches me on the way toward the reception tent. “Well… What a week, huh?”

I nod. “What a week.”

“Ron,” he touches my shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that... Well, I’m here is you need someone to talk to.”

“Thanks, Neville. I really appreciate it.” But I think I’m okay…

After the cake cutting, Ginny dances with Draco and Dad, and I cross the floor to her. “I know that it’s probably supposed to be Bill next, but I’m stealing you before he can.”

She laughs and takes my arm. “He and Phlegm are more than like too busy fighting to notice.”

I chuckle. “You look beautiful,” I tell her as I lead her onto the floor.

Her eyebrows knit together. “Hey, you okay, brother dear?”

“Yeah,” I reply quietly. “Who’d’ve thought that my marriage would be ending as your’s began?”

She shakes her head. “Ron… I’m very sorry about you and Hermione.”

I shrug. “I left her, Gin… I drew up the divorce papers… I can’t feel sorry for myself. But this is your wedding,” I smile at her, “and I shouldn’t be bringing down the mood for everyone. Congratulations, Gin… I hope he makes you very happy.” I kiss her cheek.

“He will,” she reassures me.

I lean close to her ear. “But if he doesn’t, tell him I know and excellent transfiguration spell.” She narrows her eyes at me in question. “How do you feel about penguins, Gin?”

She laughs as Fred and George approach on either side of her and extend their arms at the same time. “I think that’s my cue, Gin,” I smile, walk over to a bench on the edge of the dance floor and sit quietly to just watch. James has one of Charlie’s twins, Hilaree, I think, and is twirling her around and around. Morgan and Charlie are swaying so slowly, they’re almost stationary; a fine example of two people who are still very much in love. Mum has Charlotte asleep in her lap and she sits at a table, talking with Angelina and Katie, Fred’s and George’s dates. Even Bill and Fleur have set aside their differences long enough to make their way onto the floor and cling to one another.

Suddenly, I feel very alone here.

Harry and Hermione dance. Her head is nestled into the crook of his neck, a smile plays at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes are shut as they sway in place on the dance floor. His arms hold her body to his, and I realize for the first time that she’s happy. And, truly, that’s what I want; her happiness. Well, and a dance. As the music fades, I stand, cross over to the dance floor and tap Harry’s shoulder. “May I?” I ask.

He nods, kisses her hand, and heads toward Ginny and Draco.

I offer my arms to Hermione. “A waltz, milady?”

She nods and takes my hand in hers. We dance in silence for a while before she speaks. “You know, I never really thanked you for what you did, Ron…” she mutteres against my shoulder.

I shrug. “You never really had to.”

“Well, thank you just the same.”

Uncomfortable silence between us.

“So…” she says quietly.

“So…” I sigh. “Hermione… We need to talk about something.”

She narrows her eyes, questioningly at me. “About what?”

“I need to tell you something.” I take her by the hand and lead her off the floor toward the dimly lit fairy garden. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Harry watching her carefully. She gestures to tell him that she’ll be right back and I see him nod and turn toward Mum. We sit on a bench, the dim light from the fairies reflecting off her hair. I notice that her cheeks are pink for the first time in a while.

She puts her hand on my knee. “Now, what did you need to talk to me about?”

I sigh. “I’m leaving for awhile.”

She jerks away from me in awe. “What?” she exclaims. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Hermione, you and Harry need time together.” I take a deep breath. “You and Harry and James need time together. And I need to get away and exorcise some demons.”

“Why can’t you do that here?” she asks, staring up at me.

“I need to deal with my internal demons. By getting away, I can let things settle down a bit… And I can finally get over you…”

“I suppose it is best to make a clean break…” she agrees.

I nod. “This is for the best, Hermione… For all of us.”

“Well, I guess I can understand that.” I can see her turning this bit of information over in her mind. “Where? Are you going, I mean?”

“Africa. Well, Egypt, actually. On Sabbatical. We’ve had reports of Dark Magic down there and I volunteered to go. To give you some space.”

She places a hand on my arm. “Ron, you don’t have to take care of me anymore.”

“Yeah, actually, I do… I always will.”

“When are you leaving?”

“In a week,” I answer her.

She closes her eyes and rests her head on my shoulder… Just like she used to. “Ron, will things between you and Harry and me never be the same again?”

I shake my head slowly and take her hand in mine. “I don’t know. I want them to be, but… We both loved you too much.”

“There’s someone out there for you, Ron…” she whispers against me.

I shrug. “I’m not really sure I want there to be. I really always knew that you and Harry were meant to be together. I… I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you—”

She shakes her head and stares up into my eyes. “You’ve never treated my anything but wonderfully. It’s really me that should be apologizing. I spent the better part of our marriage wishing you were someone else.”

“I loved you too much to care about that,” I admit. “I’m just happy that I got to have you at all.” I wipe a tear off her cheek.

“I just want you to know… that James still loves you…”

I nod. “I know… And I’ll always be around for the both of you.”

She chuckles. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well,” I sigh. “I think we adjust. It’ll be easier for you with me gone…”

I watch her eyes fill with tears. “Ron…” She whispers.

“You’re with who you should be with…” I stand, plant a kiss on her forehead and head back toward the party. It’s not too soon to start distancing myself.

Harry runs up to me as soon as I get back to the tent. “Where’s Hermione?” he asks in a panic.

“Over there.” I jerk my head in the direction of the garden, and he goes to her. I cross over to the deserted drink table and pick up a cup full of butterbeer. I slosh it around in the glass without drinking it. Somehow I’m just not in the mood.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” says a voice from behind me.

I turn and see Luna Lovegood’s huge eyes staring at me. “What hurts?”

She steps behind me. “Losing the one person you ever cared about to the one person you always wanted to be.”

“I don’t…” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t want to be Harry.”

She nods. “I understand. I never really wanted to be Hermione, either.”

I look down at her. “Really?”

She shakes her head. “No, I did… When the two of you were together…” She blinks away tears. “I tried everything in my power to make myself more like her. She takes a deep breath and sighs. “But… I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

“My whole life’s not meant to be…” I snort.

She grins. “Well, you’re still here. Obviously, you haven’t fulfilled your purpose yet.”

“Purpose?”

She nods. “Before my mother died, she told me that everyone was put on earth for a purpose and it’s impossible for someone to die before they’ve fulfilled that purpose.”

I chew on my lip. “So, you believe she fulfilled her purpose…”

Luna shrugs. “She must have. Or she wouldn’t have died so soon.”

“How could I not know all of this about you?” I breathe.

“Maybe you never really listened before.” She sets her empty glass on the table and heads toward Ginny.

“Luna?” I call after her.

She turns. “Yes, Ronald?”

“Erm…” I stammer. “Well… Would you… Would you like to dance… with me?” I motion to the dance floor.

She’s silent a moment, then she nods and takes my arm. “I’d love to.”

THE END

22. Author's Note

Hey guys!

Just to let you all know, I have decided to go ahead and write a sequel to ‘Sweet Child of Mine.’ It will be called ‘Long Way Home’ and will be posted under the Ron/Luna ship. However… (there’s always a but) I’ve decided to take some time off on this story. I need to distance myself a little from the characters and their situations for right now… I think I’ve become far too close to them over the past two years. It shouldn’t be too long, I just need to take some time off and oblige some other plot bunnies that have been hopping around over the last couple weeks. I’ve been rereading HBP, with the hope that somehow I was much too out of it with mono to remember Harry and Ginny together and that really it was Hermione… But, alas, I was right the first time… Regardless, I’ve been feeling obligated to write a year seven fic lately, so all of my attention is focused on it at the moment. Don’t worry. LWH will be posted within a few months. I just need some time at the moment.

I thank you all for reading SCoM and for supporting me during my first attempt at HP fan fiction. I am truly nothing without my loyal readers… Especially those that reviewed every chapter (you know who you are…).

In the meantime, keep gorging yourselves on pumpkin pie (I know I will).