Three years after Harry leaves to fight Voldemort, Hermione is left with their son, waiting for Harry's return. With her last memories of him haunting her, and many proposals from Ron, her son is the only person she has, until she gets a surprise visit.
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/4156/
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Although, that would be quite baller. Title is a lyric from The Strokes's "Someday", which I do not own, either, but would quite love to.
chapter one
Juggling her groceries in hand, Hermione Granger had a hell of a time trying to get in her flat. She could have Apparated in, but she was exhausted. She finally got the keys in the lock and opened the door. She found Molly Weasley sitting in one of the chairs reading to Hermione's three year old son, Jamie. Molly told Hermione firmly that while Hermione was at work and running errands, she would be the babysitter for little Jamie.
"After all, he is like a grandson to me," Molly had once told her.
James Ronald Granger, "Jamie" for short (or "James Ronald" when he was in trouble), was bright and small for his age. He had his mother's mousy brown hair, and Hermione knew that if she let it grow, it would be just as bushy. His eyes, though, his eyes were a brilliant emerald green, unlike his mother's, but exactly like his father's. So much of Jamie reminded her of Harry Potter.
"Mummy! Grandmother Weasley was reading me a story," Jamie announced when Hermione came in.
"I just finished, actually," Molly said. She got up. "Here, dear, let me help you with those bags."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." After they put the groceries in the small kitchen (Molly charmed them to put themselves away), Hermione went back to the living room and picked up her son. "I hope you were a good boy, Jamie."
"Of course I was, Mummy."
For a boy of only three, Jamie was very articulate. He didn't stumble over his words, and he didn't speak like a normal toddler. "Grandmother said I was."
"Jamie was very good," Molly assured Hermione. "Well, dear, I must be going. You know Arthur and I are helping Ginny with her wedding plans."
Ginny was marrying Neville Longbottom, and she wanted a big wedding. Arthur and Molly were just trying to find a way to pay for it, but Neville's grandmother was going help pay, too.
"'Bye, Mrs. Weasley. Send Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny our love."
"'Bye, Grandmother!" Jamie said, brightly.
Molly Disapparted, and Hermione turned to her son. "Jamie, I think it's time for your bath, and then it's bedtime."
"Okay, Mummy."
Hermione bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and she got him dressed for bed. She sat down on the edge of Jamie's bed, and she brushed his hair off of his forehead.
"Sleep well, Jamie," Hermione said, kissing his head.
"Goodnight, Mummy."
Hermione turned off his light, and she closed the door behind her. Hermione went in her bedroom across the hall, and she put on her nightgown. Like every night, before she went to bed, she thought about Harry. Where he was. How he was doing. Was he all right? Is he in pain? She knew Harry would have been proud of his son, and she wanted him there with her and Jamie so badly. She drifted off to sleep, remembering the last night they saw one another...
Harry was exhausted, beaten, and broken, and it had only been an hour training session with Lupin and Dumbledore. He pulled himself in the Common Room, and he sat down on the couch beside Ron. Hermione was on the floor, doing her Transfiguration homework, and Ron was struggling with his Potions essay.
"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, not looking up.
"I guess you could say that..."
"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up at him, making eye contact.
Harry couldn't tell them, but he had to. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, and he told them everything. Okay, so he told Hermione about the prophecy before Ron, but still. Harry drew in a deep breath and sighed.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Alone."
Ron snapped up. "What're talking about, mate?"
"I'm leaving. Dumbledore's sending me to Greece to finish my training. After I'm done, I'm off to fight Voldemort."
Hermione's eyes rimmed with tears, but none fell. "No, you can't leave, Harry."
Harry nodded. "I am. I mean, I have to, you know?"
Ron grasped Harry's shoulder. "You're the hero, remember? You'll be fine."
Harry smiled at Ron's unusal optimism. He got up and headed for the portrait hole.
"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione asked.
"I...I need some time to think." He left.
Hermione got up, and Ron grabbed her arm. "Hermione, don't. Harry needs-"
"He needs me, Ron. You and I both know that."
Ron nodded. She was right, and Ron knew the only person Harry opened to and talked to was Hermione. He let her go, and she ran after Harry. Hermione knew he was at the lake, under the same tree he had seen his father, Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew under in the Pensieve. Hermione ran outside, despite the crisp, cold air, and she sprinted across the grounds to Harry.
She found him, leaning against the tree, arms holding his knees. She sat down beside him, and she gently put a hand on his shoulder.
"Harry?"
"Don't, Hermione."
She didn't know what he didn't want her to do, but she went on. "Harry, I know you need to talk, so talk, please."
Harry looked up at her. "I can't lose you again," he said, quietly.
"What do you mean? You've never lost me."
"Yes, I did. Well, almost. In the Department of Mysteries, two years ago. Hermione, I don't want that feeling ever again. I can't...won't...lose you. That's why I have to leave. That's why have to fight Voldemort."
"Harry, I'm right here. You're never going to lose me."
"I love you," he said, abruptly.
Hermione was taken aback. "Wh...what are you talking about?"
"I love you, Hermione," he said, again, this time more slowly.
Hermione cracked a small smile. "I love you, too, Harry."
"Spend the night with me," he said, looking at her. "I want to have one last night with you."
Hermione was surprised by his sudden offer, but she didn't refuse him. "Of course, Harry."
Harry got up, pulled her to her feet, and they walked hand-in-hand back up to the castle.
chapter two
Hermione woke the following morning to the smell of eggs and bacon. She got up, and she saw that her clock read "6:47 am". She put on her robe, and she went to the kitchen to see who had invaded her flat to cook her breakfast. A tall, slender form with red hair she recognized as Ron had his back to her as he served three plates.
"Little Ron up yet?" he asked.
"It's 'Jamie', and no," she said, smiling. Ron liked the fact Jamie's middle name was named for him. "Why the breakfast?"
"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, grinning. "After all, you're always busy and such."
"I'm going to get washed up," she said. "I'll be right back."
Hermione went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and brushed out her hair. She went in the kitchen and sat down at the table across from Ron.
"This smells delicious. I didn't know you could cook, Ron."
"Mum had taught all of us at some point how to," he explained, digging into his eggs. There was a silence between them, and Ron finally asked, "Heard from Harry?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not in three years. You?"
"No. Truthfully, Hermione, I doubt he's coming back."
Hermione put her fork down. "I don't see why he hasn't. He has...had... a life here with us...with me."
"Did he know about Jamie?"
"No. When did he have the chance to find out?"
Ron looked down. "Hermione, my offer is still open, you know."
Hermione sighed. Ron had proposed to her at least five times in the last three years, the first time being when he found out she was pregnant and the chances of Harry's return were slim. Ron loved her with all of his heart, but she didn't reciprocate those feelings to him. She knew he'd take care of her, and he was quite a nice father figure for Jamie, but she wanted Harry to be her husband and Jamie's father.
"Ronald..."
"I know, Hermione, I know. You love Harry, but just think about. I'm here and Harry isn't."
"Ronald, I really don't want to talk about this now."
Ron knew not to press her when she called him "Ronald". He had matured (slightly) in the past three years to the point where he knew to stop pushing Hermione's buttons. He was still a little oblivious to the feelings of women, but he was getting better.
"Are you working today?" Ron asked her, changing the subject.
"No, I have the day off, so I was going to take Jamie to Diagon Alley."
"Okay, well, I'll see you around, Hermione."
"G'bye, Ron."
He Disapparated, and Hermione charmed the dishes to wash themselves. She heard Jamie wake up in his room when he called for her, and she went to him.
"Mummy, who was that?"
"Uncle Ron. You ready to get up and get ready for Diagon Alley?"
"Yes."
She helped Jamie in the bathroom with his teeth, and she gelled his hair down. She got him dressed, and she got dressed herself. She kept the flat a magic/Muggle one (she had electronics, such as a TV and phone, but they were powered with magic), and she and Jamie always dressed in Muggle clothes, except she wore her Healer robes to work.
She looked at herself in the mirror after she dressed, and her memories of three years ago were on her mind...
She had been throwing up. She been feeling sick all day long, and she was eating more than Ron did. Hermione didn't let that get in the way of her studies, but finally, Ron told her she had to go see Madam Pomfrey.
"Well, Miss Granger have both good and bad news for you," Madam Pomfrey said after checking Hermione over.
"Good news first, please," Hermione said.
"It's not the stomach flu. Now the 'bad' news is both good and bad."
Hermione's anxiety was growing. "What is it?"
"Miss Granger, I'm afraid you're pregnant."
***
Ron fell out of his chair. "You're what?!"
Hermione hid her face in her hands. "I know! I know! Oh, Harry! How am I going to tell him when he returns?"
Ron got back in his chair. "Has he owled you lately?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, and that worries me the most. Dumbledore has assured me that he is alive, but I want hear from him."
Ron nodded. "I'm sure he's...somewhat...fine, but listen, Hermione, how are you going to raise this child on your own?"
Hermione sighed. "It'll be August when he's born-"
"It's a boy?"
"Yes."
Ron smiled and nearly fell out of his chair, again. "Wow! A boy!"
"Oh, Ronald, sometimes you can be so-"
"Sorry, Hermione."
"It's okay, but listen, you cannot tell anyone, understand, Ronald?"
"Yes, yes, I got it."
"I mean it."
"I won't tell anyone."
Hermione got up and walked over to the window. She looked out over the snow covered grounds, and she wished she were standing there in Harry's arms. The Common Room was empty, with the exception of her and Ron, but they could be up later. Ron was still Prefect, and Hermione was Head Girl.
"Hermione?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you think is in store for us? As in you and me?"
Hermione turned and faced him. "What are talking about, Ron?"
"Marry me," he said, hurriedly.
"Ron..."
Ron bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you can't do this alone."
"I can, Ron, and I will. You know that I'm saving my left ring finger for Harry."
Ron nodded. "I know. The two of you...you truly are destined for one another."
Hermione, nearly on the verge of tears, looked out the window again. "I just wish he were here with me now."
A/N: I just wanted to say thanks to those of you who so like/love the story so far and reviewed. Thanks!
chapter three
Diagon Alley was busy and bustling. Jamie held Hermione's hand, knowing she'd get very angry if he wandered off. He loved coming to Diagon Alley, Flourish and Blotts being his favorite shop. At three, he was reading at the second grade level, and Hermione knew her son would be a brilliant and powerful wizard someday.
"Mummy, may we go in Flourish and Blotts?" he asked, tugging at her hand.
"Of course. There's a book I've been looking for."
Jamie pulled Hermione by the hand into the shop, and he followed her when she went to the magical medicines section. She was looking for New Advancements in the Use of Boomslang Venom for work, and Jamie found it right away.
"Here it is," he said, pulling it from the bottom shelf.
Hermione took the book from him. "Thank you, Jamie. Now, what book would you like to read? Do you want something from the children's section?"
"I don't think so," he said. "I think I want a book about Transfiguration."
Hermione smiled. "Really? A little advanced don't you think?"
"It is, but it would be fun trying to learn the words," Jamie said, pulling her to the next book shelf.
Hermione looked out the window to the street as Jamie pulled her, and she swore she caught a glimpse of a familiar raven-haired young man. No, it couldn't be him, she thought. He would say something if he were returning home. She shook the thought of it being Harry, and she help Jamie pick out a book. He got A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, and she paid for the books. They left the store, and they headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.
"I'm ready to go home, Mummy," Jamie said, finishing his ice cream.
"Okay, dear."
They walked to the Leaky Cauldron, and Hermione caught a glimpse at who she thought was Harry, again. I must be going mad. It's not him! It's not! But what if it is? Damn, damn, damn!
"Mummy, are you all right?"
Hermione saw that they were standing beside her car. She hadn't realized they were already in Muggle London. "What? Oh, yes, of course." She helped Jamie in his car seat, and she got in the driver's side.
"Are you sure?"
"Very." Hermione turned the car on, and they headed home.
***
Jamie was in his room having his afternoon nap, and his new book was tightly held in his arm as he slept. Hermione was having coffee in the kitchen when an owl tapped on her window. It was a barn owl from St. Mungo's, so she knew it was work related. She paid the owl, and she opened the letter.
Miss Granger,
We're pleased to tell you that you've been accepted to attend the New Cures for Dragon Pox Seminar in Paris. You and four other Healers will go as representatives for St. Mungo's. You will report to St. Mungo's on Saturday, November 10th, 2001, at precisely eight o'clock AM, and your Portkey will be activated at precisely eight-ten AM. Don't be late!
Sincerely yours,
Healer Eric Kelso
St. Mungo's Healer Chief of Staff
"Paris?" Hermione said aloud. "I didn't think I'd be chosen to go."
She got up, charmed her mug to wash itself, and she went to her room to pack. After all, the tenth was two days away.
***
"How are you going to tell them?" Ron asked Hermione as they sat on the Hogwarts Express.
It was now June. Hermione was now seven months pregnant, and she had an easy time hiding it with her school robes. Now that they were heading home, Hermione knew she couldn't hide it. The baby, she knew, was going to be small, seeing as she didn't gain that much weight, and her stomach really wasn't as big as expected.
"Ron, leave her alone," Ginny snapped. "Can't you see she's upset enough?" Ron and Ginny were the only two (besides Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall) to know Hermione was pregnant.
"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione told her. "I don't know how I'm going to break this to my parents."
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A pregnant Mudblood? Polluting the world with your gene pool, are we, Granger?" a cold voice said from the compartment door. It was Malfoy.
Ron jumped to his feet. "Get out of here, Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth.
"Shut up, Weaselby! You're nothing without Saint Potter here. Oh, wait...you were never anything to begin with."
Hermione was ready to break down and cry. Ginny was on her feet, too, wand drawn.
"Get the fuck out of here, Malfoy," she demanded. "We're tired of your shit. You lost your 'lord', so now you're the nothing. Oh wait, you have to be a something first, don't you?"
"My, my a mouth you have on you, Little Weaselby." Malfoy whipped his wand out. "I can take care of that..."
"Expelliarmus!" a voice yelled from outside the compartment.
Malfoy's wand flew from his hand, and Neville walked closer to him, wand pointing out.
"You heard her, Malfoy, so leave!" Neville yelled.
Malfoy quickly grabbed his wand and left. Ron was in awe. "Blimey, Neville! That was bloody brilliant!"
Neville blushed and shrugged. "Anytime."
chapter four
"Thanks, again, Mrs. Weasley for watching Jamie," Hermione said, heading for the fireplace.
"It's not a problem, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "How long will you be in Paris?"
"I'll be back next Monday morning."
"Well, you have a nice time. Jamie won't be a problem."
Hermione nodded. "Just remember, he likes to read to himself before bed, he loves listening to the Muggle CD I have for him before his nap. The Strokes one. He doesn't like cheese or eggs, he-"
Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Hermione, I've watched him before. I helped you raise him practically! You don't need to worry."
Hermione gave her a big hug. "I know, I know. I'll see you next Saturday, Mrs. Weasley. Give Jamie another kiss for me when he wakes up." Jamie was napping upstairs in Ron's old room.
"Good bye, Hermione."
Hermione waved and Floo home.
***
Hermione had come home early on Sunday night, and she picked Jamie up from the Weasley's. He was exhausted, as was she, and he was fast asleep when she put him in his bed. It was storming that night, and normally, he would be up, watching the storm, but he didn't have the energy.
Hermione closed his door, and she went to the living room to watch a little bit of television. Her favorite, the American show That 70's Show, was on. She wondered what it would have been like if she had grown up in Muggle America in the seventies. She dozed off on the couch, and just as she was dreaming they were living in Point Place, Wisconsin in 1976, she was woken up by a knock on the door.
Hermione switched off the TV, grabbed her wand, and cautiously went to the door. She slowly opened it, and she wanted to scream.
It was Harry.
But not Harry the way she had remembered him. He still had his same round glasses, but his black hair was longer, shaggier. His clothes were purely Muggle- loose fitting, dirty washed jeans, a turquoise t-shirt that said "American Eagle" on in navy letters, a corduroy, dark brown jacket, and Doc Marten boots. She could also see he was tan.
"Ha-Harry?"
"Hello, Hermione. Can I...can I come in?"
She stepped aside to let him in. "Harry...what're..."
"I suppose you want to know where I've been, huh?"
Hermione closed the door. "Yes, that...that would be nice to know."
Harry sat down on her couch. "I don't want you to hate me, Hermione. I didn't want to be gone for so long. I did want to come back home to you, but I was on order to stay with a low profile for a while. Dumbledore sent me to America, and I got to see a lot. New York, Houston, southern California, and everywhere in between, but I hated the fact I wasn't here with you."
Hermione sat in the arm chair across from him. "Harry, why didn't you at lease write?"
"I wanted to. Really, I did, but there was the fear of it being intercepted. I couldn't come out of hiding until the Death Eaters were under control."
Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes, and she buried her face in her hands. Harry moved down to the floor in front of her. He was on his knees, and he put his hands on her knees.
"But I'm here now. Hermione," he said, whispering in her ear. "I still love you, and I hope there isn't another man in your life because I want to marry you."
"Oh, Harry..."
"Do you still love me, Hermione?"
She looked into his eyes. "Of course I do, Harry. I never stopped loving you, but this...I'm just...I'm in shock. It's really you, isn't it?"
He nodded. He cupped her chin in his hand, and he gently pressed his lips to hers. Hermione ran her fingers through his hair as she opened her mouth to let his tongue in. This is what she wanted: to be in Harry's arms, kissing him, holding him, being with him.
He pulled away slowly. "Wow. I've missed that."
"I've missed you."
Harry picked her up, and her carried her to her bedroom. Hermione knew she wanted that night to reunite with Harry, and she started to undress him. His jacket and shirt fell to the floor, and she lightly kissed his chest.
"I love you, Harry. Please don't leave me again."
Harry pulled her close. "I don't intend on it."
The room was filled with energy as they moved together. The sheets were tangled in their legs, and there were a few times they weren't paying attention and nearly fell off the bed, but they didn't care. They had each other, and nothing could have ruined that night.
Hermione rested her head on his toned stomach when they finished and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "It really is you," she said, assuring herself.
Harry ran his fingers through her hair. "It really is me."
***
The room was filled with the morning sun, and Harry was wide awake, looking up at the ceiling. Hermione was beside him, asleep on her stomach, her bare back visible below her mess of bed head, and the sheet was just barely at her waist. Harry was smiling. He was home. He was with Hermione. He-
"Mummy?"
Harry looked over at the doorway, and he saw a little boy, around two or three, standing there. His brown hair was the same color as Hermione's, and he was rubbing his eyes. He opened them, and Harry saw the brilliant green eyes, not unlike his own.
"Who are you?" the boy demanded.
"I'm...I'm a friend of your mother's," Harry said. "I'm Harry."
"I'm Jamie. Could you wake my mummy up and ask her to help me brush my teeth? I cannot reach my toothbrush."
Harry sat up. "Can I help you?"
Jamie nodded. "I suppose you could."
Jamie walked in the bathroom across the hall, and Harry got out of bed. He pulled on his boxers, and he went in the bathroom. He got Jamie's toothbrush and toothpaste, and Jamie brushed. Harry picked him up so he could spit in the sink, and he helped the boy to wash his face.
"Thank you," Jamie said. "May I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"Are you my daddy?"
Harry looked at him. "What?"
"I asked if you were my daddy. I mean, you do have the same eyes I do, and you were in bed with my mummy."
Harry shrugged. "I-I don't know..."
Harry wanted to faint. Was this boy really his son, or did Hermione have other affairs? Surely not. After all, if Jamie were his son, Hermione would have mentioned it, right?
"Jamie, what's your full name?"
Jamie held his head high, as if announcing the king's name. "James Ronald Granger. I'm named after my uncle Ron."
"Anyone else you're perhaps named after?"
"No."
Harry looked at the boy, puzzled. He shook all his thoughts about the boy out of his head and said, "Would you like some breakfast, Jamie?"
"I am awfully hungry."
"What would you like? I learned how to cook pancakes in America."
"Those sound good."
"And would you like bacon and eggs?"
Jamie shook his head. "I don't like eggs, very much."
Harry found himself making a mental note on that. He let Jamie lead him to the kitchen, and Jamie showed him where everything was. While Harry cooked, Jamie read his Transfiguration book at the table.
Well, it's pretty obvious he's Hermione's son, Harry laughed to himself.
"Harry?" he heard Hermione ask.
He turned and saw her in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing only his t-shirt. Her eyes went wide when she saw Jamie in there with him, and she felt the blood rush from her face.
Dammit, I forgot about Jamie! she screamed to herself.
Jamie smiled. "Good morning, Mummy! Harry was going to make me breakfast."
chapter five
"So, I see you and Jamie have met one another," Hermione said, with a nervous smile.
"Yes, he's a very smart boy," Harry said, concentration on the pancake batter. She couldn't read his emotion. "Just a question of who the father is..."
Hermione walked over to Jamie. "Jamie, honey, why don't you go read in your room."
"But Mummy-"
"Now, James Ronald."
Jamie knew she meant business when she called him "James Ronald", and he left the kitchen. Hermione leaned her weight into one of the chairs, afraid she would collapse.
"I was going to tell you..."
"When? Last night when we had sex?" he asked, still not looking at her.
"He is yours, you know. Don't think I was with another man."
"Why would I think that? Well, I was gone for three years, possibly dead, and, you know, you could have had other relationships."
Hermione felt her voice shake. "But I didn't. Jamie is yours Harry."
"Does he even know that? Does he even know who his own father is?" Still, Harry wouldn't look at her.
Hermione knew what she said next would kill him inside. "No."
One little word. One tiny little word that had such impact. Harry stopped cooking and shot her a look.
"Why?"
"He never asked."
"You never even bothered to tell him?"
"The moment never came, Harry!"
Harry didn't say anything. Hermione walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move it. He just stood there, leaning forward on the counter.
"I'm so sorry, Harry..." she said, quietly, tears rolling down her cheek.
"He asked me if I were his dad."
"What did you say?"
"That I didn't know." Harry sighed. "This is my fault. I should have not been gone for so long. I should have-"
They were interrupted by a pop!, and Ron's voice from the living room. "Oy! Hermione, you up yet?"
"Oh, no."
"I'll Apparate to the bedroom," Harry said. "I don't know if I want to see him yet."
Harry Disapparted, and Hermione went in the living room and found Ron prodding the TV with his finger.
"Ron, what are you doing here?"
"I just wanted- Why are you wearing only a t-shirt?" Then it hit him. "You had someone here last night?"
"Yes, but-"
"And with Jamie in the next room?" Ron demanded. "Wait, so let me get this straight. You won't even try at least a relationship with me, one of your best friends, but you'll sleep with some stranger?"
"It's not like that, Ron!"
Ron's face turned a deep red. "Bloody hell, Hermione, don't give me that shit..."
"Ron, if you would shut up for one second-"
"She didn't sleep with a stranger," someone said behind her. It was Harry, wearing only his jeans since Hermione had his shirt.
Ron's jaw dropped. "Blimey! Harry?"
Harry nodded and looked over at Hermione. "Yeah."
They heard Jamie's door open, and he came out to the living room. "Uncle Ron!" The boy ran to Ron, and Ron picked him up.
"Hey, Little Ron," Ron said, ruffling Jamie's hair.
Harry felt something in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was the fact that here was his newfound son acting like Ron was his father. Okay, okay, Harry hadn't been home in three years, and Ron had always been around, but still. Harry found himself wanting Jamie to look at him like that.
"Have you met Mummy's friend, Harry?" Jamie asked Ron.
"Yes, yes I have. We were best mates at school."
Hermione took Jamie from Ron. "Jamie, honey, you and I need to talk." She took him to his room and left Ron and Harry alone.
"So, Ron, how-"
Harry was cut off by Ron's fist hitting his mouth. "You bastard," Ron snarled. "Never wrote to her. Never once had any contact with her. Off and gone on holiday, I suppose?"
Harry cupped his mouth, but he was fine. No blood or missing teeth. "Ron, will you let me explain?"
"No, I won't. While you were gone, Hermione raised Jamie on her own. I helped, Mum helped, Ginny helped, but she was alone, Harry. I love her, Harry. I love her more than you could ever know. I was here for her, but she still loved you."
"You're wrong, Ron," Harry said. "I love her. You never loved her. You just wanted her as a trophy, remember? Remember sixth year when you tried to ask her out? You figured as long as you had her, you were better than me. You had something I didn't, but she didn't love you back. Well, you have something now, you arse. You have my son's love. My son."
"You were gone, Harry."
Harry didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He sat down on the couch, and if Ron hadn't been standing there, he would have cried.
***
"Jamie, you do know that Harry is your father, right?" Hermione asked him. Jamie was sitting on his bed, and Hermione was kneeling in front of him, hands resting on his shoulders.
"I had a suspicion."
Hermione started to cry. "I'm sorry I never told you about your father, Jamie. Really I am."
"It's okay, Mummy," Jamie said. "Please don't cry."
"No, no, James, I feel like I've wronged you. I never told you about Harry. Never told you that you are a Potter. Never told you that you're named after your grandfather, James Potter, and your father, Harry James."
"You haven't wronged me," Jamie assured her. "I'm not mad or anything, really."
Hermione kissed his forehead and smiled. "I love you, Jamie."
"And I love you, Mummy. Will Daddy stay around?"
Hermione pulled him into a hug. "I hope so, Jamie." She beamed. Jamie had referred to Harry as "Daddy".
Now she had both of them. Harry was home, Jamie liked him. Everything would be all right...right?
chapter six
"I still can't believe that you're here, that we just made love ten minutes ago, and I'm now in your arms," Hermione said, quietly as Harry kissed her neck.
"It's been a week, Hermione," he laughed.
"I know, I know. It's just... Oh, Harry, you were gone, and I was just so worried all of the time," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "I think that if I didn't have Jamie, I would have gone insane."
"He's a special boy, isn't he?"
"He's our special boy," Hermione reminded him.
"I want more children, Hermione," Harry said, looking up at her face. "I want to buy you a house in southern California, like the huge ones I saw. I want to share the rest of my life with you."
"Then let's get married."
Harry smiled. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could look down at her. "Right now."
Hermione laughed. "You are daft, Harry."
"Right now, let's get married, right at this moment. I don't care that we're naked, a bit sweaty, and it's three fifty-eight in the morning. Let's get married right now."
Hermione sat up and grazed her teeth on his ear lobe. "No, we need to plan it. I want a perfect wedding with you, Harry James Potter."
Harry nodded in agreement and took her hands in his. "Then perfect it shall be. Anything for you, Pookie."
"Thanks, Har- Wait. 'Pookie'?"
***
Ron hadn't even given Harry the chance to explain why he was gone, why Dumbledore hadn't let him reveal his whereabouts, or let alone, even take notice of him. The old jealous Ron was surfacing, and Hermione hated it that her two best friends were fighting once again. She tried to explain it all to Ron, but he refused to listen.
"You're a stubborn prat, Ronald," Hermione calmly told him.
She was sitting in his flat, sipping on some tea, and he was pacing around the room. She had gone over to see if she could try talking some sense into him, and Harry stayed at her flat, spending time with Jamie.
"I am not," he snapped. "It's just-"
"You're still jealous of him, aren't you?" she questioned, interrupting him.
Ron threw his hands up in frustration. "Now why would you get a stupid idea like that?"
"It's obvious, Ronald," she stated with a quiet voice. "You've been jealous of him for the past ten years, and you know that. Ron, he's your best friend. Can't you even try and let him explain himself?"
"He said he loves you, but he ran out on you, Hermione. I was always here, and you never bothered... You never... Oh, fuck it."
"Ron..."
Ron walked over to her. "I want you to think back three years ago. August sixth 1998, to be exact."
"Ron, why do you-"
"Better yet," he cut her off. "Here." He walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out his Pensieve. "Look in there. Maybe you'll remember this much clearer."
***
The hospital lights in the St. Mungo's delivery room were bright. Hermione remembered that now. She looked around the room she was in, and she realized this was her room, three years ago. She saw Ron and Mrs. Weasley on either side of her bed, each holding on of her hands.
"Okay, Miss Granger, we're going to use some charms on you to help the baby out. It may be a little cold," her Healer told her.
Hermione remembered this so clearly now. She remembered looking up at Mrs. Weasley and Ron, wishing they were her mother and Harry, but her parents were dead. Just after the fall of Voldemort, the remaining Death Eaters, before being caught and shipped to Azkaban, did a small killing spree, and the Grangers had been victims to that.
"You're doing just fine, darling," Mrs. Weasley assured her, wiping a sweaty strand of Hermione's hair from her forehead.
"Squeeze my hand, Hermione, when it hurts," Ron said.
Seeing Ron at her side didn't make a difference to Hermione, as she stood there, watching the birth of her son, James Ronald Granger (soon to be Potter), that morning at 3:46 on August sixth, 1998. Ron never truly loved her, like Harry did.
"This is enough, Ron," she said sternly.
Ron appeared next to her. "I thought maybe seeing the fact I was here, and not Harry-"
"Just shut up, Ron!" she snapped. "You're being such an arse, you really are. Accept the fact Harry's here! Accept that he and I are getting married! Accept the fact you're being a stupid, childish prat!"
Hermione left the Pensieve, and Ron was there in the flat with her. "I'm sorry," he said. She was fuming.
"As you should be! I want you to go and talk to Harry, okay?"
Ron nodded. "Okay, okay, I will."
"You promise?"
"I plomise."
Hermione crossed her arms. "Ron, you were with me when we watched that episode of That 70's Show, so don't try that with me."
***
A/N: Sorry this is short, but yeah. Thanks for the reviews, guys! You kids are rad.
chapter seven
"Daddy, may I ask you something?"
Harry looked down at his son, who was on the floor by his feet, reading a book. Well, he was more studying the pictures of wand movement. Harry sat up from his slumped form on the couch.
"Sure, son."
"Why did you leave Mummy? Did you know I was going to be born?"
Harry nodded. "I suppose your mummy hasn't explained all of that, huh?"
Jamie shook his head. "Can you tell me?"
Harry picked the boy up, and he sat him down beside him. "Of course I will."
***
Harry looked around the ruins of Malfoy Manor. Five months of training in Greece had brought him to this point. He was ready to face Voldemort, one on one, but that wasn't what Voldemort had in mind. Harry fought his way through different jinxes and hexes, and he battled his share of Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange being one. He felt more powerful after he defeated her, avenging Sirius's death.
Now, here he stood, just moments after defeating Voldemort, broken, beaten, battered, but he felt perfect. It was over! It was all finally over! He could go back to London, meet Ron and Hermione at King's Cross Station, and marry Hermione. Everything would go right on track, but they couldn't.
"Dumbledore, what do you mean I can't go back to London?" Harry demanded. "I have to go home to Hermione and Ron!"
Dumbledore sat peacefully behind his desk, as Harry leaned on it with his fists. "The Death Eaters are still among us, Harry. Not to mention to amount of press you will receive. You're to be sent to America, staying for a few months in various cities, until this all dies down."
"What about Hermione? Ron? The Weasleys?"
"They will be safe. We have our top Aurors tracking them, keeping watch, without their knowing. Don't worry, Harry, I assure you they will be fine."
Harry stood straight and paced around the room. "I can't leave. I just can't."
"I know, Harry, but it is for the best."
"Will Ron and Hermione know where I'll be?"
Dumbledore looked down, a trace of sadness on his face. "No. Your whereabouts must be confidential. I'm sorry."
Harry went up to his empty dorm (it was the end of June, so all of the students have left already), and he packed what he had in his trunk. He would be traveling to America the Muggle way- by plane.
***
Harry hadn't lied when he told Hermione he had seen everything in America. He saw the tall buildings of New York; he went to Mardi Gras in New Orleans (but didn't party too hard); he saw the Johnson Space Center in Houston; he went to the Hollywood hills; he even saw gators in Tampa. He was seeing it all, living a peaceful life, but something was missing.
No.
Someone.
Hermione.
Hermione never left his mind. Everywhere he went, he heard her voice in his head, questioning everything in pure curiosity. He compared every woman he had seen or met to her, and none of them were Hermione quality.
He longed for her, wishing he could write to her, but he couldn't. No one was supposed to know where he was. He had to use fake names and aliases wherever he went so that wizards wouldn't catch on. He grew out his hair just long enough to cover his scar, ears, and part of his neck. He got a tan during his stay in the south. He started dressing more and more in Muggle clothes, and he copied a lot of the stylings from the lead singer of some Muggle band called "Incubus", or something. Now that he thought about it, his hair looked sort of similar the singer, Brandon something or another.
The night Harry remembered most is when he got an owl from Dumbledore. It was during his stay in Atlanta, August sixth, 2001, when the owl came. Harry opened the note, and it said for him to come home. All was clear, and he could come back to London.
Harry packed his things, and he took the first flight out of Hartsfield to London. He took a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and he decided to visit around Diagon Alley. No one recognized him, which he did not mind at all. He looked at the new broom models coming out at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and he was tempted to go in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes but decided against it. Instead, he went in Gambol and Japes. On his way out, he thought he saw a flash of bushy, brown hair, but no, it hadn't been her. This woman had a small boy with her.
Harry walked around Muggle London, and he decided to look Hermione up. He found a phone book, and he wrote down her address. Calling her wouldn't have been enough. He needed to see her. He needed to hold her, talk to her.
He was in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, watching the storm build outside. It had been a day or two since he had been the woman with the same hair as Hermione's. He started questioning whether or not it was her, but it couldn't have been. The woman had a boy with her. Hermione couldn't have children now, could she? She hadn't married another man, had she? He had only been gone three years...
He made up his mind. He would go see her. So he put on his shoes, and he trudged through the storm to her flat in Muggle London.
***
"And that's pretty much the story."
Jamie looked up at Harry. "Mummy never talked about you to me."
Harry looked back at him. "I didn't expect her to." Harry got an idea on how to even more bond with his son. "Jamie, you have heard of Quidditch before, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to give it a go?"
Jamie rubbed his chin. "I suppose just trying it out couldn't hurt. Can we try Seeking? It seems like the most fun."
Harry ruffled the boy's hair. "That's m'boy."
chapter eight
The night of November twenty-fourth, 2001, it snowed. Hermione stared out her bedroom window, smiling, and sighing to herself. Tomorrow, she was to be Mrs. Harry James Potter, but that wasn't all. She was running her hand over her stomach, knowing there was life growing in there. She was a month pregnant, with a girl.
"A little girl," she sighed to herself, her big smile not fading.
She turned around and saw the small form of a sleeping Jamie on her bed. His thumb was slightly in his mouth, and he looked so little. He would be excited to have a little sister. She picked him up and carried him to his bed. He didn't wake up, but he was a very heavy sleeper.
She walked back to her bedroom and thought about names for the girl. "Lily" was a definite choice, but she wasn't sure if she wanted that to be her first or middle name. Hermione fell back on her pillows and started to giggle, something she couldn't remember ever doing.
"I'm going to be Mrs. Harry Potter," she said to the empty room. "Mrs. Hermione Jane Granger Potter. Mrs. Hermione Potter. Mrs. Potter. Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter." She felt like a giggly schoolgirl, and she knew she never had felt like that.
Damn you Harry, making me turn into a silly girl, she laughed to herself.
***
"Ron, I want us to stop fighting," Harry said, setting his firewhisky aside. Truthfully, he barely touched it. He and Ron were sitting in the Leaky Cauldron.
"Fuck you, mate," Ron said, with a slurred speech. He was drunk after two firewhiskeys, and now he was on his fifth.
"Ron, I'm serious. Can't you look past your superficial feelings for Hermione, and be my best man?"
Ron held up his two fingers, in a backwards peace symbol. "I said 'fuck you'. You get everything, P-P-Potter, why should you get...err..." Ron bent over on the floor and puked.
Harry, with one flick of his wand, cleaned it up. "You need to stop drinking, mate. Hermione does love you, but not in the way you're hoping for. You're important to her, and you're important to me. Would you please be my best man?"
Ron managed to keep his head up. "Fu...fu... F-f-f-fuuu..." He passed out.
Harry managed to lift Ron and support him with his arms and shoulder. He helped Ron walk (when he came to), and he got Ron to his flat above Diagon Alley. He put Ron in his bed, and he left.
How Ron would feel in the morning would be punishment enough.
***
The next day brought sun, but it was freezing with snow still on the ground. The wedding was to be held in the Hogwarts Great Hall, and it was going to not only be their wedding, but a welcome home celebration for Harry. The only ones to be attending were the Weasleys (excluding Percy), Neville, Lupin, Tonks, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid. Dumbledore was to be performing the wedding. Jamie was sitting with Bill and his wife, Fleur, who found the boy to be adorable.
Hermione was getting ready in the Room of Requirement, Ginny and Molly helping her with her hair. She looked at her dress in the mirror. It was a Muggle dress, which is what she wanted. It was a white, satin bustier bridal gown. The midriff corset was rose embroidered and had a long, flared skirt. It wasn't exactly something she would have worn, but truthfully, she thought she looked good in it.
Ginny used some hair taming charms on Hermione's hair to straighten it out, and then she used a heat spell to give it soft, ringlets. Molly fixed Hermione's veil straight, and she gave her a big hug.
"Oh, I feel as if I'm marrying off my own children," she wept.
Ginny smiled. "Mum, don't call Hermione and Harry your children. That'll make them related!"
Mrs. Weasley shot Ginny a look. "Well, I'm sure Hermione knew what I meant."
"I did, Mrs. Weasley," she said. "I'm flattered."
They left the room, and Arthur met them in the hall. "Ready?" he asked Hermione.
She could only nod. Arthur was to walk her down the aisle, and she couldn't be more happy...and nervous. When she walked down the aisle to Harry, she wanted to faint, cry, and giggle all at the same time. Standing up there, looking in Harry's green eyes, Hermione was feeling relaxed now.
"We are gathered here today to join together this witch and wizard in matrimony. If there is anyone present that has just cause to object, speak now or forever hold your peace." No one spoke out. Dumbledore, smiling at Harry and Hermione with his eyes, continued. "Now, Harry James, do you take Hermione Jane as your wedded wife to honor, love, cherish, protect and respect her for as long as you both shall live?"
Harry stood there, looking so confident with his head held high and a small smile on his face, and said, "I do."
"And do you, Hermione Jane, take Harry James as your wedded husband to honor, love, cherish, protect and respect him for as long as you both shall live?"
Hermione smiled. "I do."
"Now for the rings." Ron (who fixed things enough with Harry to be his best man) and Ginny (Hermione's maid of honor) handed Dumbledore the rings. "Harry, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."
"With this ring, I thee wed." He slid the ring (which was a simple gold band and small, square diamond) on Hermione's finger.
"Hermione, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."
"With this ring, I-I thee wed."
Hermione slid the ring (which had a charm on it that made the inscription, which read "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite" from Romeo and Juliet, scroll slowly) on his finger.
"By the power vested in me as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride."
Harry did not waste anytime lifting her veil and planting a kiss on her lips. They finally did it. They were now Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter. Harry finally had the loving family he always wanted, and he was going to make sure it would be perfect.
***
A/N: Thanks again to all of you who reviewed. You guys are great. If you'd like to see Hermione's dress, it's here. Just so you know, there's just one more chapter after this.
epilogue
Fifteen years later
"Wow," was all ten year old Diane Potter (named for her maternal grandmother) said. "So that's how you and Daddy came back together?"
Hermione nodded. "That's how we got back together."
"And does Jamie remember all of this?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't really know. You'll have to ask him."
She got up from the breakfast table, where she and her youngest daughter were having their conversation, and she refilled her cup with tea.
"But Jamie's all the way at Hogwarts!" Diane sunk back into her seat. "I can't wait until I'm old enough to go."
Jamie was a seventh year at Hogwarts now, soon to graduate. Lily, the second oldest, was a fourth year, and the youngest boy, Mark (named for his maternal grandfather) was a second year. Diane's birthday was June eighth, so she was normally the youngest in her class, and she would be going to Hogwarts come September.
"Mum?"
"Yes, hon?"
"Did anything happen between you and Uncle Ron that you don't want to tell me because you don't want Daddy to know?"
Hermione laughed. "No, sweetie. Why?"
"It was so obvious!" Diane giggled.
"There's nothing 'obvious' that happened."
Diane nodded. "Okay, okay. Mum, when can we go wand shopping?"
"In June, after you get your letter."
"When can I get my books?"
"June."
"Robes?"
Hermione ran her hand down her daughter's jet-black hair. "Sweetie, you can wait a month."
They heard a pop in the living room, and they both knew Harry was home. Diane ran to her father and hugged him.
"Did you bring me a present?" Diane asked him.
Harry laughed. "No, I'm sorry." Harry went over to Hermione and kissed her.
"How was your day?" Hermione asked him.
"Just fine. Yours?"
"Well, taking a day off from work was nice."
Harry kissed her cheek. "Brag, why don't you."
"Mum, Daddy, can we go to Diagon Alley?" Diane asked. "I want to look at owls."
Hermione kissed her daughter on the head. "We'll get you an owl in June with all the rest of your supplies."
"I only want to look!"
"Let's take her," Harry said, never missing an opportunity to make his children smile. "She only wants to look."
Hermione sighed and nodded. "Okay. Go get ready then." Diane smiled and ran upstairs to her room. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's waist. "Always spoiling the kids, aren't you?"
Harry kissed the top of her head. "I wouldn't have it any other way. I want them to have the life I didn't."
"I love you, Harry."
Hearing those words always made him feel as if he were floating. He never got tired of hearing "I love you" come from Hermione's mouth, and he was thankful everyday for the loving family he had always wanted and had now.
"I love you, too, Hermione."
end
***
A/N: Sadly, I end it here. Mucho thanks to all you guys and gals who reviewed/like/loved the fic. It brought me smiles :). I may start a new fic soon, but not right away...yet. Feel free to e-mail me or IM me anytime. I'm up for talking about H/Hr, Harry Potter, That 70's Show, Franz Ferdinand, The Strokes, and other things that strike my fancy. Thanks again, guys. You kids are gnarly.
the ultimateSora