Hermione's Greatest Gift

Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. I just like to borrow it every now and again.

This is the first time that I've ever ACTUALLY cried writing a story. I had my tissues out and I was bawling. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that it's nearly 6am and I haven't slept yet, but to me, this is quite a sad story. You've been warned.

Major character death. As much as I HATED to do it, this story idea came into my head and it absolutely WOULD NOT leave me alone. So, I had to write it. It's the first time I've killed someone other than Ron … and Ron's baby girl (man I sound cruel, don't I?)

I will consider a second chapter, but at this point, there's no guarantee that anything will come of it. I know there are many ways that I can take it. I can already picture the future….

Please leave a review. I don't do this type of story often so feedback on it would be most welcome. Thanks.

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Hermione's Greatest Gift

“Hermione, what…are we doing?”

“Having sex.”

Harry groaned. “It sounds so…dirty…when you say it…like that.”

“What else would you call it?” Hermione sighed. “I'd hardly call it…” she moaned, “making love.”

“What…about…Ron?” Harry stammered breathlessly.

“What about him?”

“Don't you…love him?”

Hermione stared at him, where he lay above her, in wide-eyed disbelief. “I'm insulted.”

Harry lay still in, and above, her. “What? Why?”

“Do you really think I'd be here with you if I was in love with Ron? That's insulting. What do you take me for?”

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“What would make you think I'm in love with Ron, anyway? Start moving.”

Harry started moving within her. “Just…always…thought you were. Thought you…loved…each other.”

“Some kind of friend you'd be then, uh? Having sex with me thinking Ron and I are in love. What does that say for you?”

“Not much, I s'pose.”

“Speed up.”

Harry sped up his pace and in no time there was a high pitched moan, Harry saw black, and the moment was over.

He rolled off of her and Hermione turned on to her side to face him. “What do you want out of life?”

“Meaning?”

“What do you want? You know, when The-Boy-Who-Lived becomes The-Boy-Who-Saved. What do you want?”

“I wanna see people happy,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I…”

She put her fingers to his lips to silence him. “I mean for you. Not for everyone else,” she said, waving her hand around. “I'm not concerned with everyone else right now. Right now I want to know about you.”

“A family.”

“That's it?”

“That's it. Just a family. I want a wife and a dozen kids. I want that house in the country where every time I look up on a clear night I see stars. I want a porch swing on the back deck where I can sit with my wife, stare out into the sky, and talk about our dreams or our children…our hopes, our fears. I want simplicity.”

“What about being an Auror?”

“That's for the daytime. Simplicity is for the night. Quiet nights with no one around, just me and my family.”

“Sounds nice.”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? That's not possible. There must be something that you want.”

Hermione looked into Harry's eyes and said the last thing he'd ever expected to hear. “I want your dreams to come true.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione

The last Horcrux was found before the night of their rendezvous and the only thing remaining was the defeat of Voldemort. Thankfully that time came less than a month later…and not a moment too soon for Hermione.

She was sick. Her body was weakened to the point of near-total exhaustion. The only thing keeping her from collapsing was her determination to help Harry. She slept for as many hours as she could but nothing seemed to help…nothing could make her feel better. She couldn't hold her food down, her skin was pale and pasty, and pains wracked her stomach for long intervals throughout the day. She fought valiantly alongside Harry and Ron, keeping the extent of her illness as much to herself as she could. The boys knew she was exhausted, they all were, but neither attributed her symptoms to anything more than the amount of effort she'd been putting into finding a way to win the final battle.

When it was over, when they felt the veil of darkness lift and she heard Ron's triumphant cry, she allowed herself to fall, exhausted and spent, to the cold, hard ground.

She awoke days later, disoriented and out-of-sorts. A medi-witch was tending to her. “What's wrong with me?” she croaked, her voice hoarse from days without use.

“One moment, dear,” the medi-witch replied. She turned away from Hermione and spoke to the two boys sitting in chairs near the foot of her bed. “Can you excuse us a moment, please?” she asked.

“Sure,” Hermione recognized Ron's voice as saying.

“Is she all right?” she heard Harry ask.

“Just for a moment,” the medi-witch said. “You can see her again shortly. I'll let you know when.”

“We'll be right outside, Hermione,” Harry called out.

The medi-witch ushered them out the door and closed it quietly behind them. She returned to Hermione's side and conjured a stool. She held Hermione's hand in her own. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Don't know,” Hermione mumbled. “How am I s'posed to feel?”

“Well, better, I hope,” the medi-witch replied gently. “It's important we get you feeling well and properly rested. We need to get you to eating and hopefully to start keeping solid food down.”

“Why?”

“Well, my dear, your health for one.”

“And?” she asked, sensing there was more.

Hermione heard the catch in the medi-witch's breath just before she spoke. “You're pregnant.”

Immediately Hermione regretted her instinct to sit bolt upright in her bed. Her head began to swim and large black dots clouded her vision. “No,” she gasped, as she fell back down against her pillows. “I can't be.”

“Do you…know who the father is?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied, her heart racing. “I've only been with one person.”

“Shall I find him for you?”

“No,” Hermione shouted hastily. “Sorry. I mean no, no thank you. I know where he is.”

“Very well.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Six days. You were exhausted and malnourished, since your food wasn't digesting. We've been feeding you through a tube and you've been sleeping soundly since you arrived. It would appear as though you're…”

“Six weeks,” Hermione finished.

“Yes, that's about right.”

Hermione felt the first of many tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes. “Do they know?” she asked, indicating with a wave of her hand, that she was referring to Harry and Ron.

“No. With the exception of a few healers, me and now you, no one else knows. We always feel it best to allow the patient to notify those whom they feel have a need to know.”

“Thank you.”

“There is something that I must tell you though…something that may force you to consider ending your pregnancy. You are still in the first stage so now is…”

”What is it?” Hermione interrupted nervously.

“When we were conducting our tests, we discovered something…abnormal. It would appear as though…” she paused to recollect her thoughts. “Have you been injured by a curse at some point in your past?”

Hermione thought back to her fifth year when Dolohov hit her with that unknown curse in the Department of Mysteries. “Yes. Why?”

“Do you know what kind of curse it was? Do you have any idea?”

“No, Madam Pomfrey couldn't tell. I was treated with a number of different potions. I thought that was healed,” Hermione was surprised at how one thought of Dolohov could leave her sounding so hollow and bitter.

“For all intents and purposes it is. Had you not gotten pregnant, it is likely that you would never again feel the effects of what hit you. However, it would appear as though the curse, whatever it may have been, has affected your stomach and, as such, has left your uterus, where your baby will be formed, damaged. It is possible, that should you continue with this pregnancy either you, or your child, will be at risk during childbirth. Please, take your time to consider what this means.”

“No,” Hermione stated. “I don't care about any risks. I want to have this baby.”

“Miss Granger, please don't be hasty. This is not a decision to be taken lightly. The risks are great. It is possible that one, or both of you…” she paused and took a deep breath, it was never an easy thing to be the bearer of bad news, “could die.”

“No,” Hermione repeated, with more conviction this time. “How is the baby?”

“The baby is fine…for now,” the medi-witch replied. “Perhaps it would be best if you spoke with the fath…”

“No,” Hermione interrupted. “I'll not speak with him and I'll not change my mind. He wants to have a child…and so do I. And, if I have to, I'll die to give him one.”

“I do wish you would consider the risk,” the medi-witch warned. “You are such a young woman…”

“Would it matter if I were older?” Hermione asked sharply. “Would it matter if I waited until I was thirty? No, it wouldn't. I'd still be damaged. I'd still be in the same situation. I'm not giving up this baby. She'll be fine. She has to be,” she added softly.

“As you wish. Shall I let them in? They've been here everyday waiting for you to awaken.”

Hermione wiped her eyes. She hadn't realized that the tears that had threatened her had actually begun to fall. She looked around for her wand. Not finding it she asked, “Please, can you help me clean up first?”

The medi-witch nodded. With a wave of her wand there were no telltale signs of Hermione's tears. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Hermione gathered all of her strength. She wasn't sure how she was going to cope with seeing Harry.

“I'll get them.” The medi-witch opened the door and called out to Harry and Ron, saying something that Hermione couldn't quite make out. The next thing she knew, they were standing on either side of her bed throwing question after question at her. “Go easy on her,” the medi-witch interrupted. “She's not 100% yet. You have 20 minutes.”

“Hermione, are you all right?” Harry asked, drawing her hand into his own. “They won't tell us anything. We've been worried sick.”

Hermione looked past Harry's shoulder, unable to look him in the eye. “I'll be fine, Harry. Don't worry about me.”

“So what's wrong?” Ron asked, grabbing hold of her other hand.

“Exhaustion,” Hermione replied quickly. “That's all. Guess I just overdid it.”

Harry looked at her skeptically, but didn't contradict her.

Bugger, she thought, Harry could always read me nearly as well as I can read him.

Harry raised a hand to her hair and began to gently stroke it back from her face. “We were really scared, Hermione. The healers really seemed to be worried about you. We were worried that something serious might be wrong.”

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Harry's fingers in her hair. “That feels good,” she said, before she could stop the words from escaping.

Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Nothing serious?”

Hermione squeezed his hand and looked from him to Ron before answering. “Nothing serious,” she said, unable to face Harry with her lie.

Harry kissed her again. “Thank Merlin,” he sighed heavily.

Hermione raised Ron's hand to her lips and kissed it. “How are you? Is everything okay? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. I stayed in the hospital for a couple of days, but there are no problems. I'm doing all right.”

“Good.” She turned to Harry and closed her eyes, blinking back the tears before she spoke. “What about you? Are you all right?”

“Just worried about you,” Harry replied sincerely. “Otherwise, yeah, I'm okay.”

Hermione turned back to Ron. “Ron, I'm sorry, can you excuse us for a second? I really need to talk to Harry alone for a minute before they force you both to leave. Do you mind?”

Ron looked questioningly from her to Harry, wondering what was going on between them…why they both seemed so tense. He nodded. “Yeah, all right,” he said hesitantly. He leaned down and kissed Hermione's forehead. “I'll be right outside the door.”

Hermione pulled her hand from Harry's grasp and carefully wrapped it around Ron's neck. “I love you, Ron, you're a really great friend…the best,” she said, pulling him down and giving him a quick, friendly kiss on the lips. “It'll only be a minute,” she said, releasing her hold on him.

Ron nodded, glanced at Harry, and then walked out the door, quietly closing it behind him.

The second the door shut behind him Hermione turned her head away from Harry and wiped once again at her tears. “Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “Just a second.” She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and turned to face him. The look on his face brought a fresh wave of tears and Hermione fought unsuccessfully to hold them back.

“Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?” Harry asked anxiously. “Do I need to call a healer?”

“No, just…” she closed her eyes and pushed her head back further into the pillows to take a few deep, cleansing breaths. “I have to tell you something,” she finally managed. “It's…it's important.”

Harry sat on the edge of her bed and leaned across her, placing one hand just above her opposite shoulder. With the other, he held tightly to her hand. “You're scaring me, Hermione. Tell me, please.”

Hermione closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “I'm pregnant,” she said quickly, before she had time to reconsider. “And it's yours.”

Harry wobbled, his arm nearly giving way from the pressure he exerted to hold himself upright. “You're…you're what? But…but it was the first time. How can…no,” Harry shook his head. “No, you're messing with me, right?” He looked at Hermione with fiery eyes. “That's not something to joke about, Hermione,” he said fiercely. “You know how much a family means to me. You know it's all I want…”

Hermione's eyes were blazing and she pushed herself halfway up. “Look at me, Harry,” she yelled. “Do I look like I'm lying to you? Do I?” She choked back another sob. “I'm sorry,” she said softly, “I know I wasn't the one you had in mind when you were talking about a family. I never thought that this would happen. But I thought you should know the truth.” She reached up and held her palm to his face, turning his head until his eyes bore into hers. “You're going to be a daddy.”

Harry gave up the fight and fell against her. “A daddy,” he repeated. “I'm going to be a daddy.”

Hermione could feel the growing wet spot on her gown where Harry's tears had begun to soak through. She began to stroke his hair. “Yes, Harry,” she said softly, “you're going to be a daddy.”

Harry turned his head and kissed her cheek, then her eyes, then her nose, and finally her lips. “You have to marry me, Hermione,” he stated bluntly against her lips.

Hermione shook her head, pressing it further back into the pillows to put some distance between them. “No, I won't marry you.”

Harry sat up quickly. “Why not? This is my child, too. You have to marry me…we have to get married.”

Hermione continued to shake her head. “This child was an accident. Hopefully a happy accident…but an accident just the same. I don't want you to marry me just because I'm pregnant, Harry. It's not what you wanted, and it's not what I'm going to force you to accept. You'll be a part of our child's life, but I won't marry you.”

“Hermione,” Harry pleaded, “that doesn't make any sense. Our child needs us both…together.”

“If we married, our child would need parents who love each other as more than friends, Harry.”

“What if I told you that I love you?”

Hermione shook her head and sniffed. “No,” she repeated. “Maybe after the baby's born and you see how involved you are, you'll change your mind. I won't marry you for the sake of this baby. We can love this baby the same whether we're married or not.”

“Move in with me then,” he pleaded. “Give me that much. Let me take care of you.”

“You have Auror training, Harry,” she sighed. “I can't do that. I can't put that burden on you. I won't.”

“Hermione, please, don't make me beg.”

“That's the last thing I want. I don't want you to beg. I want you to accept that I'm pregnant with your child and that I don't plan to ask you for anything more than your acceptance of her.”

“Her?” he asked, his eyes glistening.

“Yes, her,” Hermione replied. “It's a feeling,” she added, turning her face away.

“Well, you're not often wrong,” he said, turning her back to face him. “It's definitely a girl.”

For the first time since she'd awakened, Hermione laughed. “We still need to have a boy's name…just in case.”

“We?” he said hopefully. “You mean I get to help?”

“Of course you do,” she replied. “Why don't you go and get Ron? I think this baby needs a godfather, don't you?”

“You mean you want to tell him?”

“Only if you're ready,” she replied. “Not a minute before.”

He thought for a moment. “I don't think I can hide it from him. I'll go get him.”

Harry went to get Ron and he was no sooner at her side, when Harry burst out with the news. “Wanna be a godfather?”

Ron looked puzzled. “A…a…huh?”

Harry and Hermione laughed. “A godfather,” Hermione replied.

“But…but how?”

Harry took Hermione's hand in his. “We're going to be parents. Hermione's pregnant. We're gonna have a baby!”

Ron held up a hand. “S'cuse me,” he mumbled, his face turned a pasty white and he slid down the wall he'd fallen against. “Are you…are you serious?” he asked from the floor.

Hermione sat up and leaned over the side of the bed until she could see him better. “Yes, Ron, we're serious. I'm six weeks pregnant.”

“But…but…that was before…” His eyes opened wide in realization. “That was about the time you started acting all funny. I thought you were just tired or something. I never thought…bloody hell, Hermione.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. “You shouldn't have been fighting with us. You should've been taking it easy. It didn't…I mean…all that fighting hasn't…you know…hurt it. Has it?”

Harry sat down heavily next to her. In all the excitement he hadn't correlated the facts and now he sat, in stunned silence.

“No, Ron,” Hermione replied. “The medi-witch said that the baby is fine.”

“Why did you do it?” Harry asked, his mind still in a daze. “Why did you keep fighting?”

“I didn't know I was pregnant,” she replied softly.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, louder this time.

“Because I had to,” she shot back, matching his tone.

He turned to look at her, a fire burning in his eyes. “You knew you were sicker than you let on, Hermione,” he seethed. “Tell me why!” he yelled.

“Because you needed me!” she yelled back. “I had to keep on fighting because you needed me,” she repeated, her voice soft now, and full of anguish. “I didn't know I was pregnant.”

Ron put a hand on Harry's arm. “Let it go, mate,” he said softly. “They're both all right now. Just let it go.”

“What is all the ruckus in here?” the medi-witch demanded. “I told you that she's in a fragile state and that you shouldn't upset her. I think it's time for the two of you to leave. If you plan to visit tomorrow, you'd bloody well better have your tempers in check. I don't care if you are Harry Potter, this is a hospital and I'll not have you causing all this commotion. I could hear you yelling all the way down the corridor. Now, go on, get out!”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said gently. “I didn't mean to.”

Hermione nodded. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes as they walked out of the room and she laid further back into the pillow. “I'm sorry,” she said apologetically to the nurse. “I should've known better.”

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Harry and Hermione

Hermione was in the hospital for another week. After her release, it took another three months for Harry to convince her that where she needed to be was with him. He put off Auror training, deciding he could start after his baby was born…if at all.

“Harry, I don't want to be a burden,” Hermione said for the umpteenth time.

For the umpteenth time, Harry replied, “You're not a burden, Hermione. I want to do this. I want to take care of you. Please, just let me do it.”

Hermione walked to her room, carrying only her purse. “I wish you'd at least let me help you with that stuff,” she said, feeling guilty as Harry and Ron made trip after trip to the moving truck outside.

“No way,” Ron replied. “Make yourself useful and go take a bath or something. Just let us work.”

Hermione placed her hands on her hips and tried not to smile. “Are you implying that I stink, Ronald?”

“Maybe,” he retorted. Hermione's eyes widened and Ron laughed. “No, Hermione,” he said in a placating tone, “I just figure that if you get in the bath, you're likely to stay gone long enough for us to finish.”

“Without my nagging, you mean?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“You can use my bathroom,” Harry said, “the tub is bigger in there.”

“Fine,” she huffed. She went into her room to gather whatever essentials she could find in the mess and walked through Harry's room and into his bathroom. She closed the door and approached the sink. She set her things down and one by one, began to pick up his toiletries…his razor, his shaving cream, his toothpaste, everything. When she set down his brush she placed both hands on the counter and lowered her head. “How am I going to do this?” she asked herself aloud. “How am I going to live here with him, knowing I can't have him? Knowing what I know…” Her tears made a soft plinking sound when they landed on the counter and she sighed. She hastily wiped them away and went to turn on the bath water.

After a long, warm bath she felt better, but still apprehensive. She got dressed and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door. She gasped when she saw Harry sitting on the edge of his bed. His shirt was off and he was removing his shoes and socks. “Sorry,” he said when he heard her gasp. “Couldn't stand to wear that shirt any longer. I need a shower like you wouldn't believe.”

Hermione swallowed hard. “Are…are you done then?”

“Pretty much. Just need to help you unpack a few things. Nothing major,” he said, removing his second sock, “Ron and I got most of your books on the shelf already,” he added with a smile.

He stood up and instantly Hermione's hand reached for the doorway to hold her steady. Harry began to undo his pants. Hermione was scared he might try to remove them as well so she made a hasty retreat. “I'll just go check on things, then,” she said, intentionally averting her eyes although she desperately wanted to look at him.

Harry chuckled. “It's not like it's anything you haven't already seen,” he said.

“Right. Yeah. I've seen,” she stammered. “I'll um, I'll just…uh…leave you to it then.”

“I'll be out shortly. Then we can have some dinner.”

“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled over her shoulder, “dinner.”

Dinner that night was a quiet affair and Hermione was appreciative of that fact. “I'll have to remember to thank Ron when I see him next. You two did a great job in there.”

“Thanks. It was no big deal though. Ron knows you appreciate it.”

“My mum wasn't very happy about my moving in here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But this is where you belong. Tell her I'm sorry, but I want you here with me. Call me selfish,” he said, taking another bite of the stew Mrs. Weasley had sent for them.

Hermione looked at him curiously. “Why do you want me here, Harry? I mean, you know that you can accompany me to appointments and do all the things that a father is entitled to. Why am I really here?”

“Because I want you here, plain and simple.”

“All right,” she sighed. “Whatever you say.”

Harry reached for her hand, their eyes locked and he searched hers for the truth. “Do you not want to be here? With me, I mean. Do you not want to be with me?”

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. “I want what makes you happy, Harry. Remember? I told you that. I want your dreams to come true.”

Harry moved his chair around until he was sitting right next to her. One hand covered hers and the other stroked her cheek. “What do you want, Hermione? There has to be more than just wanting my dreams to come true. No one is that selfless…not even you.”

“I want to see our baby grow up,” she cried helplessly. “I want to see your face when she takes her first step. I want to watch in wonder when she gets her first tooth. I want to celebrate when she says her first word. I want to hold her and rock her to sleep at night and kiss her cheek in the morning. Damnit, Harry, I want to be there.” She brushed his hand away and jumped to her feet. “I want to be alone,” she added softly. “Excuse me.”

Harry watched her walk away with a look of complete bewilderment. “What is she talking about?” he wondered aloud. “Why wouldn't she be there?”

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The next three months went by in a haze. The further she got along in her pregnancy, the more Hermione began to fear for both her life, and the life of their baby. Pain ravaged her body and she had to bite down hard against her own teeth to keep from crying out.

On more than one occasion Harry threatened to take her to St. Mungos. “I'm okay, really,” she said over and over. “There's nothing they can do for me right now anyway.”

It was at the start of her eighth month when the pain changed and Hermione woke up screaming. Harry rushed into her room to find her writhing in agony on the bed. He pulled back the covers to pick her up and found a large, red blood stain on the sheet beneath her. “Harry…please,” she cried. “Help me.”

Harry ran out into the living room and flooed St. Mungos' reception desk. “This is Harry Potter, I need help, quick. My wife is having a baby, there's blood everywhere. Please, can you page medi-witch Simcox? Tell her it's an emergency. She knows where we live. I can't move her. Hurry.”

Harry had long ago opened the floo from his house to St. Mungos and to medi-witch Simcox's residence so that in the event of an emergency, she could floo right in without Harry needing to be right there to allow her entrance. In a matter of minutes Harry heard her come through and he ran out to meet her. “She's in here,” he yelled. “Hurry, please.”

Medi-witch Simcox rushed forward. “The receptionist said `your wife' was having a baby. Does this mean that you two actually did tie the knot?” she asked as she got busy tending to Hermione.

“What?” Harry asked, confused and thinking he hadn't heard her properly.

“I asked if the two of you were finally married,” she repeated.

“No,” Harry said regretfully. “She won't marry me. Not yet anyway.”

He conjured a chair and sat down beside Hermione as she continued to whimper in pain, crying out loudly as a strong contraction tore through her stomach. “Shh…” he hummed next to ear. “It'll be all right, luv,” he said softly. “It'll be all right.”

“Harry…I…AHH!” she cried out, the pain almost forcing her to buckle over. “I haven't been…AH!”

“Shh…not now,” he replied huskily, “you need to relax. Come on, breathe with me.”

He inhaled deeply and Hermione tried to mimic him. After a couple of tries she finally succeeded in taking a deep breath. “Harry…I…I have to tell you…AHHH!!!” she screamed. “Make it stop. Please…just…make it stop.”

“Hermione, I'm sorry,” the medi-witch said. “We're going to have to take the baby.”

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she said fervently. “What does that mean? Tell me!” she screamed.

“It means you can't deliver the baby by normal means, we're going to have to take the baby or risk losing her.”

“Take her,” Hermione replied immediately. “Do what you…AHHHH!!” The pains were getting worse. “Save Harry's baby,” she gasped. “He needs her.”

“I need you too,” he said, gently wiping the hair from her face. “I've never told you this, Hermione. But I love you. I have for a long time. Since before the baby…since before that night.”

Hermione gritted her teeth against the pain. “Why…never…told?” she stammered with three shallow breaths.

“I didn't think you'd believe me. You said you wouldn't marry me. You said we have to wait until after our baby is born. I wanted to wait until you would believe me. But I can't wait any longer, Hermione. I love you.”

Hermione was now well beyond the crying stage, Harry's words had sent her over the edge. “Love…you…AHHHH!!! PLEASE!” she shouted. “Please, no more,” she pleaded, her voice faint as she panted heavily.

Medi-witch Simcox performed a spell on Hermione, numbing her from the waist down. Quickly she set to work delivering the baby. Hermione's cries of pain died out as the medi-witch worked her magic.

“Harry,” Hermione rasped. “Harry…I'm sorry. I…I couldn't tell…” Her tears began to fall once more and her head rolled to the side, away from him. “Love her,” she said. It was the first time her voice had rang clear since Harry had found her. “Tell her…that I love her…that I love you both.”

“Hermione,” Harry cried desperately. “What are talking about? You can…you can tell her yourself, Hermione. She'll be here soon.” He grabbed her head and turned her face to his. “What are you talking about?”

Hermione swallowed hard. “I'm sorry…Harry,” she whispered on a dying breath.

Harry sat stunned as he watched Hermione fade before his eyes. “Hermione, please, wake up,” he pleaded. “She's coming, she'll be here soon. Please, Hermione, do it for our baby…do it for me.” He dropped his head to her chest and cried. Somehow he knew, without really knowing, that she had left him forever. “I love you,” he cried. In one last desperate attempt to get her to awaken, he sat up and smacked the bed. “Stop being so goddamn stubborn, Hermione!” he shouted. “Wake up!”

It wasn't until he heard the piercing cry of his newborn baby that Harry remembered where he was and why he was there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and Alyssa

Alyssa Jane Granger Potter was born just moments after her mother passed away. One soul passing into the other, Harry was sure. Every time he looked at her she reminded more and more of her mother.

She was supposed to be named Alyssa Rose...her name meaning great happiness and enduring symbol of love. Instead, Harry named her Alyssa Jane Granger Potter, in honor of her mother. Alyssa Jane— great happiness, God's gracious gift…the very things that embodied the woman who had captured his heart; the woman who had literally sacrificed everything to make his greatest wish come true.

Harry set up the nursery in Hermione's room, where her books and her memories would forever surround them both. When he was packing away her clothes from the dresser, he found two letters; one addressed to him, the other to Alyssa.

While Alyssa napped, Harry took his letter to his room…

Dear Harry,

I'm sorry. I know this isn't going to be easy for you to read, but I have to tell you the truth. I can only hope that you'll forgive me for keeping it from you for so long.

If you're reading this, then my worst fears have come true. I'm not there with you, although I am going to assume that our baby is. It breaks my heart knowing that I may not be there to hold her (it is a girl, was I right?), or to kiss either of you goodnight, or to play her song each night before she goes to sleep. Make no mistake, Harry, I'm watching from the beyond. I can't let either of you go that easily, our bond is too strong.

Do you remember that night? The night our child was conceived? I asked you what you wanted more than anything. Do you remember what you said? I do. You said you wanted a family. And I told you that the only thing I wanted was for your dream to come true. I meant it, Harry. With all my heart, and all my soul, I meant it.

I found out I was pregnant just a few minutes before I told you. I had no idea that was why I was so sick for that month prior. Truth be told, I'm not sure it would've stopped me from fighting by your side if I had known. Suffice it to say, fate had stepped in twice by then…the first time when she was conceived, the second when I survived the battle with her still thriving inside me.

When the medi-witch told me I was pregnant, I was nothing short of shocked, but finding out the truth of why I'd been so sick turned out to be the least of my worries. Now don't get angry at what I'm about to tell you…it's not worth it anymore. If you feel yourself getting angry, please, just look at your daughter and let it go.

Here's the truth…

The curse that Dolohov hit me with damaged my uterus…my womb. The medi-witch told me that if I tried to carry our baby to term, there was a chance that one…or both…of us may not live. Twice, Harry. Twice fate had already intervened. I couldn't defy fate now. I HAD to give you this baby. She wasn't conceived in love, not admittedly anyway, but she was born of love. I love you, Harry. I know that's not fair of me to admit to you now. I want you to be happy. I want you to move on. But I want you to know how much I love you. I know you won't admit it to me now, not until after our baby is born, but I'm sure that it's love I see in your eyes when you look at me.

I couldn't marry you, Harry. Not knowing what I know. I had to wait until it was over…until I knew that I would survive…that Alyssa and I would be all right. Marrying you would have been the greatest honor, you have to believe that. I would've been the luckiest woman alive. That's how I know you'll find someone. You're too wonderful and amazing to be alone. You have so much love to give.

Be happy, Harry. Give our daughter a mother she can bond with. Someone who will welcome her with open arms. Someone who will do all of those things that mothers are supposed to do with their daughters. I do have a wish now, Harry. There is something that I want. I want you both to be happy. I wish I could make you promise me that. It would certainly make this whole thing easier.

I love you…I love our daughter. I hope she looks like you. Green eyes and jet black hair. How about if together we pray that she is somehow blessed with hair that falls straight down her back? (I hope you can see the smile on my face).

You have my love. You have my blessings.

Take care of each other.

Always in love,

Hermione

P.S. There is another letter, for Alyssa. Please feel free to read it and see that she gets it when the time is right…you'll know when that is.

Harry wiped fruitlessly at the never-ending stream of tears that had, until that very moment, fallen unchecked down his cheeks and into his lap. He laid back on his bed, holding the letter against his chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her face. “You didn't make my dream come true, Hermione, not entirely,” he spoke softly to her. “You forgot the rest of it. You forgot the part where you were supposed to be here with me. We should be swinging on the porch swing, gazing up at the stars, and enjoying the simplicity of life. We should be tucking our daughter into bed, and sharing nighttime feedings, and diaper duty. You should see her when I give her a bath,” he said chuckling lightly. “The gurgling noises she makes would melt your heart. I go into her room probably a dozen times every night just to make sure she's not a dream. She's all that I have left of you. I think of her as…your final gift to me. The most precious gift a bloke like me could ever wish for. Thank you, luv. I'll cherish her forever. And I'll do my best to love her enough for both of us.”

Harry heard Alyssa's soft cries and he sat up. A picture of Hermione sat on the table beside his bed. He picked it up and gazed at her longingly. “She's calling for me. Can you hear her? Your mum says she has your cry. I'll be back, luv. Every night, I'll tell you all about her.” He set the picture down gently and laid the letter beside it. He walked quickly to Alyssa's room. He smiled down at where she lay in her crib and he scooped her up.

He flipped the button on the old Muggle stereo and forwarded the CD to Alyssa's song.

Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
Never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play
Pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
Never a tear, baby of mine.

If they knew all about you,
They'd end up loving you, too.
All those same people who scold you,
What they'd give just for the right to hold you.

From your head down to your toes,
You're not much, goodness knows.
But you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be, baby of mine.

He sat down in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth, Alyssa's body stretched out down his arms, her head resting in hands. He hummed along as the song played…just as Hermione had done not so long ago.

“You want to hear about your mummy, baby girl?”

Alyssa smiled the first genuine smile that Harry had seen from her.

She's too young for that, he thought, his logical mind trying to brush it off as nothing more than gas.

Anything's possible, she does have Hermione for a mother.

Harry nodded his head, “True,” he chuckled softly. He focused his gaze back on Alyssa. “Hermione, your mum, was extraordinary. I've never known another woman like her. You wouldn't believe the things she's done. The things she's sacrificed. Her capacity to love. And for all that, for all that she was good, she had a streak in her…” He shook his head and sat back in the chair, situating Alyssa in the crook of his arm. “Let me tell you, baby girl, your mum could cause some serious trouble. She wreaked more than her fair share of havoc in her day.”

Alyssa never went to sleep, she never fussed or cried, she lay silently in his arms, watching him as he rocked her and told her story after story about his adventures with her mum.

Harry laughed heartily as he regaled Alyssa with stories. He raised his eyes skyward as though he knew Hermione was listening. He winked before dropping his gaze back to his daughter. “Oh, and then there was the time that she…”

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Questions

“Daddy, how come you never got married?”

Harry looked up into the darkened, starless sky from his place on the porch swing next to his daughter, Alyssa. A soft light from deep within the house shone just enough onto the porch to allow them sight of each other. “My heart was stolen nearly eleven years ago,” he said simply. He looked down at her and smiled, she was staring down at the ground. He placed his hand to her chin and raised her head until their eyes met and held. “My heart was stolen the instant I heard you cry in the medi-witch's arms,” he said gently. He released her chin and looked up toward the heavens. “I've never wanted for anything more.”

“That's not true,” Alyssa said emphatically, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry said quietly, pulling her close. “You are all I need. Besides, you know I've tried dating.”

“But you never go on a second date. How come?”

Harry rested his head against the top of Alyssa's. “You either have a connection with someone or you don't, baby girl and you can tell by the first date, or I can anyway. I just…I haven't found that connection. And, truth be told,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “I don't think I want to find one.”

Alyssa pulled away from him and turned her head, not wanting him to see her face. “I hear you sometimes,” she said, her voice so low that Harry had to lean closer to hear her.

“Excuse me?”

“At night,” she turned back around to face him, her voice shaking, “when you think I'm sleeping. I hear you talking to her.”

“I see,” he said, his voice low like hers. “Does that bother you?” he asked, stroking her long black hair.

She looked straight ahead. “Not really,” she said vaguely, as she contemplated his question. She shook her head and turned back to face him. “No. No, it doesn't,” she answered with finality. “What do you talk about?”

A puff of air passed through Harry's nose as though he wanted to laugh and couldn't quite bring himself to do it. “You, mostly. I tell her about what you're doing. How much you've grown. How smart and beautiful you are.” He began to run his fingers through her hair again. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I tell her how much you remind me of her. How every day you say or do something that keeps her memory fresh in my mind.” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I know there's no way you could know you do those things, but thank you. Thank you for being so much like her…” Harry had to stop talking, the lump in his throat had constricted his air and he sat in silence trying in vain to swallow it down.

“It's okay to cry, daddy,” Alyssa said, wrapping her arms around him and offering him comfort in much the same way a mother would.

“So much like her,” Harry mumbled against her head. He sniffled and straightened up. “That right there,” he stated, “is something your mum would do.”

“Tell me something about her?”

“I tell you about her all the time, baby girl,” he said with a light chuckle. “What do you want to know?”

“You always tell me about what you used to do,” she replied heavily. “I want you to tell me who she was, what she was like. And…”

“Yes?” Harry asked. “Let it out, what else do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you chose her. What was so special about her that it…that it's kept you from loving anyone else?”

Harry shook his head and laughed dryly. He laid his head against the back of the swing and exhaled sharply. “What makes her so special? Ah…oh, honey,” he sighed, “I don't…” he closed his eyes and willed himself to continue. “I don't even know where to begin.”

“The beginning?”

“I don't even remember a beginning, Alyssa. It's been so long that I hardly remember a time when your mum wasn't a part of my life. I met her on the train to Hogwarts,” he said, closing his eyes tighter and envisioning the first time he'd seen her. “Uncle Ron and I were sitting in a compartment with a huge pile of candy between us. In walked the bossiest, nosiest, most impertinent girl that either of us had ever met. I liked her immediately. But, I was eleven and eleven year old boys tend to follow their mates rather than their head or their heart. Doing that cost me two months with your mum. Two months that could've been made better if I'd only let her in rather than continue to rebuff her.”

“So that was the troll, right?”

“That was the troll. That night was…” he paused to take a deep breath as the emotions he'd felt all those years ago rushed through him once more, “it was one of the worst of my life…yet somehow, ironically enough, one of the best. When Ron and I heard your mum scream after we locked her in the bathroom with that troll, I swear my heart stopped. I thought sure we'd inadvertently granted her a death sentence. We burst through the door and the troll was swinging that club, determinedly trying to smash her. I don't know how Ron and I did it. Truth be told, I don't know how we were able to think clearly enough to do anything to save her. I saw her, scared and trembling, backed against the wall, and something inside me snapped. My body began to move of its own accord and words began tumbling from my mouth. I'm not sure I could've told you immediately afterward what I said or what I yelled at both Hermione and that troll.”

“It's no wonder you don't know how you were able to think clearly,” Alyssa interrupted, laughing lightly. “From the sounds of it, you weren't actually thinking at all.”

Harry laughed. “No, you're probably right. Not thinking is something that Ron and I excelled at. That was what your mum did…she provided thought for us all and she was exceptionally good at it. If not for her, Ron and I likely wouldn't be alive. Her quick thinking and logical mind helped us out of more predicaments…” he shook his head then looked at her. “That doesn't answer your question though, does it?”

“It's good, dad,” she replied. “Keep going.”

“To this day, your mum is still the brightest, kindest, most selfless person I've met. With the exception of you,” he continued, chucking her on the chin affectionately, “women just aren't made that way anymore. Well, at least no women I've met.”

“You really loved her, didn't you?”

“I really love her, Alyssa,” he corrected. “I've never stopped.”

“Why?”

Harry shifted in his seat as he contemplated how best to answer. “I don't know,” he finally replied. “I don't think it's possible to really know why we love someone. I just…did. It was such a natural thing that I almost wonder sometimes if I didn't love her before I met her. I'm not sure there was ever a turning point or even a time in our lives that I can say, with any amount of certainty anyway, that I began to fall for her. It's just…it's always been that way.”

“Do you believe in fate?” she asked curiously.

Harry looked at her and slid his hand down the side of her head. “Fate is what brought you to me,” he said, “I have to believe in fate.”

“How's that?”

“Nearly eleven years ago, not long after your mum passed, I found a letter she'd written to me. In that letter, she told me how fate had intervened twice in our lives and how she'd never dare defy it. She said it was fate that helped us conceive that night and fate that kept you alive when she continued to fight alongside me in the battle against Voldemort.” He looked at her then and said the hardest words he'd ever spoken in his life. “She knew she might die giving birth to you. But she said…” he sniffled again and this time he didn't bother with holding back the tears. “In the letter…she confessed it all. She said that she refused to give you up just…just…to save her own life.”

Alyssa was crying nearly as hard as Harry. But she stood up abruptly, startling him. She turned on him and screamed, “So she chose instead to bring me into the world and leave me? She left me, daddy. The same way she left you. It isn't fair. You make it sound so selfless and noble, like it was this great sacrifice but it wasn't. She should've fought it, daddy. You told me that she always fought. That she was never scared of anything. But she gave up. She gave up on you and…she gave up on us both.” She fell against the railing of the deck and slid down, her cries muffled by the hands that covered her face.

Harry stood, his legs shaky, as a deep ache spread thick throughout his body. He sat down beside her and reached a tentative hand forward, he pulled it back before he could touch her. “Alyssa, listen to me,” he pleaded. “Your mum and I, we…” he took a deep, steadying breath. “We were only together one time. It was the first time for both of us. It wasn't planned, it just…it happened. Afterward she asked me,” Harry sniffled and tried to clear his aching throat once more, “I'm sorry, Alyssa. This…this isn't easy. None of it is.” He stood up and walked down the porch steps, the sliver of moon lighting his path as he walked a few feet ahead and stood staring out into the darkness.

Perfect night for this, he thought. Black, shadowed, haunted…just like me.

He didn't hear Alyssa walk up behind him, he only felt her hand in his and he raised it to his lips. “I love you, baby girl,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, daddy. Can you tell me what happened all those years ago?”

“I can try. Just…just give me a second.”

Alyssa stepped up next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Take your time, daddy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Harry wrapped his arms around her and bit down on his lip to stop himself crying again. So much like my Hermione…she never went anywhere either. Not until…

Harry quickly banished any thoughts of Hermione leaving him from his head. He took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. “That night, after we…well, later that night, your mum asked me what I wanted more than anything when the war was over.” He closed his eyes and sharp, clear images of him and his beautiful Hermione lying naked together in the aftermath of…of what? Was it love then, or was it really just sex like Hermione had called it? Harry shook his head. “Love,” he whispered aloud. “It was always love.”

“Daddy?”

Harry started at the sound of Alyssa's voice. He turned and kissed the top of her head, breathing deeply as he went. “Sorry, baby girl,” he said, shaking his head, “where was I?”

“You were telling me what you wanted most in the world.”

“Oh, right,” he sighed. “A family. I told your mum that more than anything else in the world I wanted a family. A dozen kids, all of us living together in a house in the country…simplicity. Just a simple life with my wife and kids.” His voice had taken on a faraway tone and flashes of sitting on the porch with a pregnant Hermione flickered through his mind like an old time movie player…image after image, which had ingrained themselves into his soul.

“What did mum want?”

Harry sighed heavily and rubbed Alyssa's shoulder. “She wanted my dreams to come true.”

“That's it?” Alyssa asked with an unmistakable note of surprise. “That's all she wanted?”

“She stood by that until her dying day. I tried asking her a few more times what it was she wanted, but her answer was always the same…until one night,” he said slowly, thinking back to that first dinner they shared when Hermione had finally moved in with him…

“I want to see our baby grow up,” she cried helplessly. “I want to see your face when she takes her first step. I want to watch in wonder when she gets her first tooth. I want to celebrate when she says her first word. I want to hold her and rock her to sleep at night and kiss her cheek in the morning. Damnit, Harry, I want to be there.” She brushed his hand away and jumped to her feet. “I want to be alone,” she added softly. “Excuse me.”

Harry was feeling the pain in each of Hermione's words. He'd thought about her so often over the past eleven years but it was the first time he could remember giving conscious thought to the amount of pain she must have lived with every single day…knowing that she would never hold her daughter. Knowing that while she hummed off-key to her every single night while she was pregnant, she'd never get the opportunity while holding her daughter in her arms. A tremendous wave of guilt slammed through his body and he fell to the ground.

“Daddy?” Alyssa called out anxiously. “Daddy, what's wrong?”

“I'm sorry, Hermione,” he cried, his eyes cast heavenward. “I'm so sorry.”

Alyssa dropped to the ground directly in front of him. “Daddy? Daddy, it's me, Alyssa.”

Harry grabbed her arms and pulled her tightly against him. “It's my fault,” he mumbled, surprisingly his voice was clear and his eyes were dried of tears. This time it was pure guilt with no emotion to offset it, no tears to redirect his attention. “I'm so sorry, baby girl. It's my fault she's gone. If I hadn't…”

“No, daddy,” Alyssa shouted through her tears. “It's not your fault. It's her fault. She should've been here. She should've stayed.” She slammed her tiny fists against Harry's chest as she continued to yell. “It was her fault! Hers! Why didn't she stay, daddy? Why?” It was the first time she'd ever felt such anger toward her mother. She and Harry had always been so close that she rarely missed having a mum around. Seeing him like this she felt a sudden, fierce desire to protect him, not realizing just how much she was reminding him of Hermione…again.

Harry held Alyssa tighter. “Your mum loves you…she loves us both,” he said, speaking soothingly near her ear. “Don't ever doubt that. There's no place in this world or any other that she'd rather be than right here with us. You have to believe that.” He gently pushed Alyssa away and set her down in front of him. “Let me tell you what happened, okay?”

Alyssa nodded. “Okay,” she whispered hoarsely.

Harry took a deep breath and began to pick at the grass. “It was our fifth year at Hogwarts. Something happened and six of us went to the Department of Mysteries. We got into a battle with some death eaters. One of them cursed your mum. To this day, no one knows what that curse was. She was given different potions and everyone thought that things were better and that she'd recovered,” he sighed and took another deep breath. “Apparently, we were wrong. Whatever curse she'd been hit with had damaged her in ways far greater than any of us had realized. When she got pregnant, the healers at St. Mungo's discovered there was damage to her womb and they…” he stopped, unsure of whether or not he should go on.

“Daddy, please,” Alyssa pleaded. “Tell me. I can take it. I'm not a little kid anymore.”

Harry ran his hand down the side of her head again. “No, you're not, are you?” he said gently. “The healers, they recommended that your mum end her pregnancy. They told her that if she carried you to term, the chances were great that one or both of you…could die. That's when she decided that fate had already intervened twice and that she was not about to start defying it. She was determined to have you…determined to make my dream come true.” He fell back on the grass and looked up at the sky and started talking to Hermione once again, “But you didn't, did you? Not completely. Damn it, Hermione, you're supposed to be here with us! We're supposed to be on that swing right now, laughing, and watching our daughter chase fireflies. Damn it all, why'd you have to go? Why'd you have to die on me?” he yelled, slamming his fist against the ground.

He sat up quickly and looked at Alyssa, his eyes wide with the shock of what he'd said. “Alyssa, I'm sorry. I love you, you have to know that. You're my life. You're all I have now, and you're all I need. That's a lot to put on such a young girl, I know, and I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. But I need you to understand something. I need you to know that no matter what I've said, no matter what stupid thing I still might say, I've never once regretted having you in my life. I've never thought life wasn't fair because you were here and your mum wasn't. I never want you to feel an ounce of guilt that you're here and she's not, okay?” he pleaded, he knew that he was rambling but he couldn't bring himself to stop...he had to make her understand. “Please, there's never been a more wanted child than you. Held by only one parent, but wanted and loved beyond reason by both.” He grabbed her and pulled her against. "I love you, baby girl."

“It's okay, daddy, I love you, too. I understand, really I do. It's all right,”

Harry loosened his hold and pushed her back to arm's length so he could look into her eyes. “Lumos,” he whispered fervently, concentrating for a moment on the porch light. The light shone brightly behind them and they blinked their eyes rapidly until they adjusted to the sudden change. “Tell me how you know,” Harry demanded. “Tell me how you can be so sure. I've said some pretty stupid things to you tonight, Alyssa. I need to know how you can be so certain that I'm worth forgiving.”

Alyssa tried to stare into her father's brilliant green eyes but his gaze pierced through her and she closed her eyes and dropped her head. “If you hadn't already forgiven me, we wouldn't be as close as we are now,” she said softly, but with every ounce of conviction she could muster.

Harry shook his head, unable to speak for several moments. He focused his thoughts, he had one chance to make it right and the thought of messing it up was almost more than he could bear. “Alyssa, listen to me,” he said slowly, deliberately. “I hope I can say this one time. I hope that I can make it clear enough that you can make no mistake about the message I'm trying to convey.” He grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I love you. Your mum loved you. There was never any doubt in either of our minds that you would be welcomed into this world with loving arms. Your mum knew the risks and she chose not to share them with me. I don't understand all of her reasons. I think, in the beginning, that she thought I might try to talk her out of having you. By the end, I think she was just too scared to face the truth. Saying it out loud would make it real. The longer she kept the truth to herself, the longer she could live with the belief that everything would be fine and that you both would live. There's never been anything to forgive. There's not a day gone by that I haven't missed your mum. But there's not a day gone by that I haven't thanked her for giving me you, as well.” He raised his eyes to the heavens. “Help me, Hermione. I'm messing this up and I need you. Please,” he pleaded.

Alyssa's hand covered her father's. “You're doing great without her, daddy. But if she can hear you, tell her I said hi, okay? Tell her that we're fine and that someday, way far away from now, we'll all be together. Can you tell her that, daddy? Can you tell her that I'm looking forward to meeting her someday? I just,” she lowered her head, feeling ashamed of her thoughts.

“You just what, Alyssa?”

She looked at him with sorrow-filled eyes. “I just don't want either of us to see her any time soon,” she softly replied. “Is that wrong of me, daddy? Is that selfish?”

Aside from the obvious answer of, “no,” Harry didn't know what to say so he did the only thing he could do. “I have something for you.” He stood and put his hand out to her. “Come inside the house. I need to give you something.”

They walked inside the house together and Harry gestured toward the living room. “Go on and sit down, I'll be right there, okay?”

Alyssa nodded and walked into the living room. Rather than sit, she paced back and forth, wondering how big of a mistake she'd made asking her father questions about his personal life with her mum.

Harry walked quickly to his room and put his hand on the drawer to his bedside table. The drawer had been sealed for so long that he found himself nervous about opening it.

She has a right to it.

I know, but I haven't read it yet. What if it's not the right time? Hermione told me I could read it. Why didn't I?

Because it's personal.

Yeah. Yeah it is, Harry thought in response to the ongoing inner monologue that had plagued him since Hermione's passing. Sometimes the voice belonged to Ron and other times…other times made him close his eyes and revel in the few seconds he had with her. It was Ron's voice advising him tonight. Hermione's seemed to come less and less frequently. He feared he was beginning to forget it.

Harry spoke the combination of words he used to unlock the drawer, “Alyssa Rose.” The drawer opened immediately as though it was spring loaded. Harry reached inside and pulled out a letter Hermione had written eleven years prior. He sat on his bed, the letter clutched tightly in his fingers. “Is it now, Hermione? Is this the right time? How am I supposed to know?”

Trust your instincts.

Harry smiled and his heart lifted. She found her way back, if only for a few short moments. “I've never been good at that without you. My instincts got us into a lot of trouble throughout the years, remember?”

No one knows you better than you know yourself, Harry. Trust your heart to know when the time is right.

Harry sighed heavily and fell back against the bed. “You know me better than I do. You've always known me better than anyone.” He wiped a stray tear from his eye. “My heart hasn't been right in nearly eleven years. Not where you're concerned.”

Have I ever steered you wrong? Intentionally given you bad advice? When it's important, I mean. Have I?

Harry shook his head, “no.”

Trust.

“Trust,” Harry repeated. He stood up from the bed and walked purposefully out the door and into the living room. Alyssa sat on the couch, alternately between biting her nails and nervously drumming her hands on her knees. She jumped when she heard Harry enter the room. He sat down next to her and handed her the letter. He closed his eyes and made an effort to swallow past the lump in his throat. “This is from your mum,” he said stoically. “Before she died she wrote us each a letter. She asked me to give you yours when the time is right. I don't know when that is, so I'm giving it to you to decide. You can choose to open it and read it, or you can choose to hold onto it and read it another day, or I can take it and put it back where I got it from until you're ready. I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do.”

Alyssa stared at the envelope that shook uncontrollably in her trembling hand. “It's…it's from her?” she asked incredulously, looking from the letter to Harry and back again.

Harry nodded. “She wanted to leave us both something. A few words, some advice…something. She was a wonderful woman, your mum. Very few people had a heart as big as hers.”

Alyssa stared at the seal, her fingers itched to open it, and her heart was eager to cling to any piece of her mum she could get. But no matter how many times she reached for that seal, something in the dark recesses of her mind held her back. She turned the letter over and read the words…

To My Alyssa Rose

She looked at Harry questioningly. “Alyssa Rose?”

Harry sighed. “That's the name your mum and I agreed on. When she…died, I wanted to give you a piece of her, so I changed it to Alyssa Jane. She doesn't…didn't…know,” he replied, stumbling over his words.

Alyssa nodded her head then turned to look at the letter again. “She knew I was going to be a girl? Is there another letter in case she was wrong?”

Harry shook his head. “No other letter. She just…she knew. She never doubted for a moment that you were going to be a girl. In fact, when she told me she was pregnant, right after the medi-witch told her, she was already sure. She never strayed from that belief.”

Alyssa nodded her head again. “Do you mind if I…?” she hesitated and made a gesture toward her bedroom.

Harry shook his head. “No, you do what you have to do, sweetheart. You can take it to your room if that's what you want.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she stood. Her eyes never straying from the letter, she walked slowly to her room. She closed the door softly behind her and sat down in the middle of the floor. With trembling fingers, she broke the seal and carefully pulled out the letter.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: There will be one more chapter and it is almost complete. Thank you.

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Life and Love

My Dear Alyssa Rose,

I don't know where to begin. Writing a letter to someone I love more than life itself, and who I'll likely never meet, is a challenge I never thought I'd have to face. I can feel you moving inside me as I write. You're restless tonight, even more so than usual, and I wonder if you can sense what I'm feeling right now…I wonder if you know just exactly how hard this is.

First off, let me apologize for anything I may say that causes you even the slightest amount of pain. It is certainly not my intention to hurt you; I just want to talk to you…to let you know that you are loved.

I have to tell you, that in all honesty, my heart is breaking as I sit here and picture you reading this letter…because it means that I'm not with you. Right now, tonight, I have no idea what the chances are that we'll be together. The healers have told me that it is likely one of us will go…possibly both. As selfish as I wish I could be right now, and as much as I would love to hold you in my arms, I can only pray that should one of us be left behind…it be you. Your father is the greatest man I know and he deserves to have his dreams come true…all of them.

I don't know if he told you that I asked him once what his greatest wish is. He told me that a family is all he's ever wanted, and I wanted so desperately to make his dreams come true. I had no idea then that I would get pregnant, it was the first time for both of us, and we were in the middle of a war. There was so much ugliness, so much brutality all around that for one fleeting moment, we wanted to forget and we searched for solace in each other. We never said 'I love you', but I think, even then, that we both knew the truth. We would've died to save one another if it came down to it. And now, looking back, I can't remember a time when I didn't love him, or a time when he wasn't the center of my world. I wonder now, if it's possible that I loved him long before I'd ever met him. It would certainly explain why I can't seem to find a beginning, wouldn't it?

I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm straying. My thoughts are a jumbled mess right now. There is so much pain in my heart that my head just can't seem to find a way past it to provide me with rational thought.

There are things I want to say, but I somehow feel that it's no longer my place. I wrote a letter for your father, much like this one. In it, I asked him to move on, it was my only wish. I hope that by now he's done that. He deserves happiness and the dozen kids he wanted and…a wife by his side on the porch swing. Simplicity…that's what he wanted, and I hope that's what he's found. And you, Alyssa, you deserve a mother who can be there for you in all the ways I've never been…in every way there is.

The greatest advice that I can offer you is to follow your heart. There are times when I've misunderstood the messages, or thought that I knew better, but in the end, I believe I finally got it right. If you're anything like me, that logical brain of yours will argue with the natural instincts of your heart, and you'll do just as I've done and misunderstand or think you know better. Let me assure you, the heart is always right. Follow it, and you'll never go wrong. It's when we let our mind plant shadows of doubt that we start to question the integrity of our heart. Use your mind wisely, but, if you can help it, don't let it rule who you become.

I could go on forever like this, talking to you about everything…and nothing. Rambling is something I'm good at, just ask your father. Being bossy and somewhat condescending is another…but that's probably something you don't need to know about me, isn't it? I'm smiling now, something I haven't done in a good, long while. If I close my eyes, I can see you so clearly. You're on your father's lap and he regaling you with stories of how things used to be. I'm sure you already have a pretty good idea of what I was like. Between you and me…it was fun being that way. I loved the act of superiority…especially when it came to your father and Ron. Being the only girl in the company of two stubborn, strong-willed boys was never an easy thing. Acting superior gave me my only advantage. But don't let your father fool you…he's a bright, intelligent man who just happened to let me get away with acting smarter. His only downfall was that he tended to be a bit on the lazy side when it came to studying. But I could always overlook that, knowing the weight of our world literally rested on his narrow shoulders.

Believe it or not, there is a purpose behind this letter, and it's more than assuring you that your mum is capable of rambling with the best of them. I've left something for you. In the attic, beside your father's old school trunk is a smaller trunk that belongs to me, you'll find my initials engraved on the outside. I want you to have it as well as what you'll find inside. They are all the things that are special to me. I hope that you find pleasure in them, just as I have.

Above all else, I want you to know that you were brought into this world through a powerful, all consuming, life altering, self sacrificing love…the kind I pray that you'll find some day. I've never known love the way I've known it with your father. Granted, I'm young, but there's a power between us, something inexplicable, something that just…is. While we've never said the words aloud to each other, our love is no less real to me. Like so little else I know, and as corny as it may sound, it transcends both time and space. I will take his with me when I go and regardless of what happens in his life, your father will always carry mine with him…he will bear witness to it every time he looks into your eyes.

My hand rests on my stomach now as I close my eyes and will you to understand. This is the path I've chosen, it is one that I cannot change…nor would I choose to, if I could. I love your father with all of me. A family is what he wants, a child to call his own. How can I deny him that when we've been blessed with you? At no time in my life would I be able to give him what he needs. Twenty years from now, the same complications will arise. I feel my chances of surviving are greater with my young age and current health. One can only hope…and pray. This has never been a tradeoff of one life for another; my hope is that we'll all be together. I will hold on to that until I simply cannot hold on any longer.

I hope that you are in contact with your grandparents. They've been so excited to meet you. I'm sure your father would never keep you from them. Because he never had one, I think he understands the value of family so much more than most people. He'll never let you be alone.

Although I cannot see you, you are my light, my saving grace. You are the one thing I know for certain I've done right in this world. And should I die, I will go happy, knowing that Harry has you. You are an angel in a time when angels seem to be in short supply. Your father is an angel; you'll live well together…my two greatest blessings.

I pray that your father will find comfort in someone else's arms. And that you will find the mother figure you so deserve. And that you will both be happy when I am gone. I wish that I could be here for you. You are, and always will be, my baby girl.

I have rambled for far too long. My heart, my soul, my love is yours, my precious baby girl.

Always,

Your loving Mum

P.S. Wherever I am, trust that I will be watching you and smiling down upon you. If you should ever wish to talk to me, I will always be available to listen, and I will do my very best to answer.

Please ignore the stains on this old parchment, it's hard to withhold the tears knowing what I know, and feeling what I feel. The tears will dry but you will always recognize that they were spilled for you…a testament to how much I wish I was there…and to how much I love you.

Alyssa's eyes were filled with tears, some of which had fallen to the parchment and dried, intermingling with the tears of her mother. She lowered the letter carefully and curled up on the floor beside it, one hand still holding it tightly. “Can you really hear me, mum?” she asked, hastily looking around the empty room. “You said you'd do your best to answer me if I ever wanted to talk. Are you there?”

Alyssa was greeted with nothing but silence, and yet she continued to try. “I need to know something. I need to know why you left me. I mean, the real reason you left. Daddy always told me you were a fighter, he always said there wasn't a problem you couldn't fix or a question you couldn't answer. And that if you were ever stumped, you'd always come through in the end. What happened, mum? This was the biggest challenge of your life, and you didn't come through. I want…no wait, I need, to know why. Can you tell me?”

The thought suddenly occurred to her to go to the attic and retrieve the trunk her mother had mentioned. She stood up and walked into the living room. Harry was still sitting on the sofa, right where she'd left him. He looked lost and alone. For a moment, Alyssa wondered when he had become the child and she the adult. It was the first time she'd ever truly understood how much her father loved her mother. She walked straight to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I understand,” she whispered. “Daddy, I'm so sorry.”

Harry held onto her as though she could pull him from the depths of the sea in which he'd found himself. He was sinking and she was the only one who could save him. He wanted to tell her that she had no reason to be sorry and that he was happy she finally understood, but words alluded him. His body was wracked with silent sobs and his throat ached from the effort he exerted to withhold the tears.

Alyssa pulled slowly away. “There's a trunk,” she said softly, holding onto his hand as she sat down beside him. “It's in the attic. Mum wants me to have it. Do you know where it is?”

Harry nodded and winced as he swallowed down the painful lump in his throat. “I know,” he rasped. “I'll get it.”

He wasted no time in getting up and making his way to the hallway so he could pull the rope that would bring down the stairs leading up to the attic. He climbed up and switched on the light. He made his way over to his old school trunk and sat down heavily upon it. “Oh Hermione,” he sighed. “Why does it still have to hurt so much, even after all this time? I've tried to move on, honestly, I have. But there's just…” he hiccupped and felt the pain return to his throat, “there's not another you,” he finished after a moment. “I could look a lifetime and never find anyone to love as much as I love you.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep breath and rubbed his face. “They say the older we get, the greater we love. I don't believe it because I don't think there is a greater love than the one we shared. If there is, I envy those people, I truly do. Please, Hermione, help me through this. I need your strength now more than I ever have. And our daughter needs me to be strong for her…I'm just not sure I can do it on my own.”

You're doing beautifully.

“Ah…oh…” he sighed. “Thank you, love. Stay with me, please. This is almost over and I need you.”

I'll never leave you, not so long as you want me to stay.

“Stay with me forever.”

You need someone real, Harry. I'm just a voice in your head.

Harry sighed again. “But yours is the only voice I want to hear. It's the only one that makes any sense to me. It's the only one I've ever truly listened to.”

I'm right here, Harry. Please, take the trunk to our daughter.

Harry nodded his assent. “Okay,” he replied. He stood up from his trunk and bent to pick up Hermione's. “I'll take it.” He walked as quickly as his legs and the stairs would allow. When he got to the bottom, he called out to Alyssa. “Where do you want it, baby girl, in your room or in the living room?”

Alyssa ran into the hallway. “Oh, in my room if you don't mind,” she said, feeling breathless and nervous.

“Not at all,” he replied, carrying the trunk into her room and setting it in the middle of the floor. “What do you want from me, Alyssa? Do you want me to stay or do you want me to go? This is yours, I'll do whatever you ask of me.”

Alyssa looked at the trunk and then back at Harry. “I want you to stay. If you want to that is,” she added quickly.

“Thank you,” he said, running his hand down the side of her head to the end of her hair. “Your mum would be so happy to know that your hair is long and straight,” he said, chuckling softly. “She always hated her hair. It was so bushy and difficult to control. I loved it though. It was so…unique, so…her.” He smiled whimsically and then shook his head to dispel the memory.

Alyssa stared at her father for a moment and then smiled at him tenderly before she sank down to her knees and opened the unlocked trunk.

Without looking at the trunk, Harry gazed at Alyssa to gauge her reaction to what she'd discovered. Her questioning look made him smile until he looked down and his gaze fell upon the items in the trunk and he gasped. Alyssa held up a small piece of something that looked like tile. “What is this?”

Harry held out his hands. “May I?” Alyssa placed the object in his hands and he turned it over and over a few times, studying it. He closed his eyes and a perfect image entered his mind and he visibly shook. “I never knew she did this,” he said softly, almost as if to himself.

“What is it, daddy? It looks like tile.”

“It is, Alyssa. It's a piece of tile from the bathroom she was in the night the troll entered Hogwarts. It was the night we all became friends.” He set it gently down beside the trunk. “What else is there?”

“What is this one?” Alyssa asked, holding up a round, glass ball.

“Neville's Rememberall,” Harry said bemusedly. He could vaguely remember asking Neville what he'd done with it and Neville saying that it'd never done him any good so he gave it to someone special whom he knew for certain could use it. Harry had always assumed that he'd given it to Ginny.

Next she pulled out a trading card with a picture of Albus Dumbledore on the front. It was the first time Harry could remember seeing Dumbledore's face…and reading the name Nicholas Flamel. “This is stuff from our first year,” he said, in awe of the things she'd managed to hold on to. They discovered the flute Hagrid had given him, which he'd thought was lost when they'd managed to get past Fluffy. And then there was a picture of him taken in the hospital wing while he was unconscious, after having faced Quirrell and Voldemort. There was also a picture of Trevor, Neville's toad, with the words, “Has anyone seen a toad?” written across it. Harry couldn't hold back the laughter when he saw the first words she'd ever said to him written across that picture.

As Alyssa pulled items from the trunk, Harry was transported back into different times in their lives.

From their second year Hermione had managed to keep the parchment upon which she'd written her discovery of the basilisk and the mirror she carried with her afterward, as well as some old photographs taken by Colin Creevey. Harry knew there wouldn't be as much from that year because Hermione had spent so much of it petrified. The object he found most intriguing was a pressed flower from the vase that sat on the table beside her bed, where he'd placed fresh ones almost daily.

There was a piece of Harry's old Nimbus 2000, and a picture of her screaming and clawing at her face when Harry fell off of it. Harry shuddered at the sight of the fear in her eyes. There was a small piece of chain that Harry recognized from the time turner, an old wanted poster of Sirius Black that made Harry's stomach clench and his heart skip a beat. A feather from Buckbeak and the rock she'd thrown through window of Hagrid's hut.

Harry couldn't help but to wonder how she'd managed to save all of this stuff without either him or Ron knowing anything about it.

The list of items went on and on…her robes from the Yule Ball, the articles that ran in Rita Skeeter's column of The Daily Prophet, more pictures, and a small notebook, which Alyssa opened up to the middle.

“Harry and Ron are at it again,” she read. “I don't understand how two people who claim to be the best of friends can be so bloody stubborn. I've chosen, wisely I imagine, to spend my time with Harry. He needs me so much more than Ron does. Ron just doesn't get it. There's no possible way that Harry could have put his name into that blasted Goblet. Sometimes I just really don't understand boys.”

She turned a few pages to a new entry.

“I hope Harry does well in the second task. I'm terribly worried for him, as we haven't been able to find a way for him to breathe underwater. I know I'm missing something, and I feel like I'm letting him down. I just don't understand how this can possibly be so difficult. I'll continue to look until I either find something…or die trying.”

“Did she love you even then?” Alyssa asked.

“I always thought she fancied Ron,” Harry admitted. “But now, looking back, I'm not entirely sure anymore.”

“I think she loved you,” she said, nodding assuredly. “I can't imagine mum ever loving Uncle Ron. He and Aunt Luna are too right for each other.”

Harry ruffled her hair affectionately. “Very observant for such a young one, aren't you?” he teased. “Sometimes it absolutely amazes me how like your mother you truly are.”

Alyssa smiled, feeling truly proud for the very first time, that Harry so easily compared her to Hermione. It made her feel good to know that she reminded him of the person he'd admired most in the world. “Thank you,” she said, “for comparing me to her. It sounds like that's a lot for me to live up to, but I'm up to the challenge. I'll make you proud.”

“You just be yourself and you'll make me proud enough,” Harry gently chastised. “You don't need to be like anyone but you. It's who you are naturally that reminds me so much of your mum. It's not learned, it's what's inside you. Remember that.”

Alyssa nodded her understanding and then returned to the trunk. She pulled out a few select items from their last three years and Harry happily explained them all to her. It wasn't until they reached the bottom of the trunk that Harry let out an audible gasp. At the bottom of the trunk they found “Hogwarts: A History” and Hermione's favorite quill, teeth marks included.

Alyssa opened Hermione's most treasured book. Inside was a single sheet of parchment with the words, “I hope now you'll understand,” written in her mum's now-familiar handwriting.

Harry put his arm across Alyssa's shoulders. “Do you?” he asked softly. “Do you understand it all now?”

Alyssa looked up into her father's eyes, so like her own and she smiled. It was a smile that told him everything he needed to know, and so much more. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “It's all going to be all right, baby girl,” he whispered into her hair. “So long as we have each other, everything will be all right.”

Alyssa pulled out of her daddy's arms and looked up into his eyes. “We'll always have that, daddy. Always.”

She turned to the stuff that had been taken from the trunk and one by one, she replaced all the items, with the exception of her mum's favorite quill and her copy of Hogwarts: A History…and that single piece of tile that signified the beginning of the greatest relationship that Alyssa thought she might ever know…one that she could only hope to replicate in the future. She looked up, beyond the ceiling of her room, imagining the vast, dark sky above her. “I love you, mummy,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

EPILOGUE

10 years later…

Alyssa stood on the steps of the house she'd grown up in. All around her family and friends gathered to pay their last respects to the greatest man she'd ever known.

No one understood what had happened. A seemingly healthy man, Harry was hardly forty when Alyssa discovered him `sleeping' peacefully in his bed. His eyes were closed as they should have been, but the calm expression he wore told her everything before she was near enough to touch him.

She sat at the edge of his bed and held his exceedingly cold hand in her own warm one. She didn't will him to life, she didn't burst out into tears and curse the heavens for taking him from her. Instead, she looked up and spoke in a calm, clear voice, “Hi Mum, it's me, Alyssa Rose, dad's on his way to you. Take care of him. He's been missing you for nearly 21 years and I know he must be excited to be finally returning to you. I love you both.”

She lowered her head and to her amazement, the drawer on Harry's nightstand, the one she'd never been able to open as a child, was now laying its contents bare for her. She pulled it open fully and rifled through its meager contents, feeling guilty as though she was betraying her father. “I'm sorry, daddy,” she said vaguely as an envelope caught her eye, drawing her mind from anything else.

Alyssa Jane, My Baby Girl, was written on the outside. She pulled it out and removed the single page letter from within.

My Dear, Sweet Alyssa, My Baby Girl,

There's so much to say, but you know me, I'm a man of few words. I watched you get married today and, admittedly, it broke my heart to think that I had to give away the wonderful gift of you. You have been my reason for living for so long now that letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do…

Don't get me wrong, sweetheart, Jonathan is a good man and I know that he'll take care of you. I don't think it's ever easy to let go of something even when you know it's being left in the most capable, loving hands. I love you both. I know that you will have a lifetime of love before you. For that I am eternally grateful.

Today I watched as you held your newborn son. Yes, it's been a while since I've updated this letter…a year and two months, to be exact. Seeing you with little Benjamin really brought back a lot of memories. It seems only yesterday that I held a little you in much the same way. Jonathan was standing just a little behind you, watching you as you smiled and cried. He loves you, Alyssa…and that is such a beautiful thing to see.

I know that should I die, you will be well taken care of. You will live to see thousands of nights watching Benjamin chase fireflies with Jonathan beside you to keep you company. That's the way it should be, baby girl. It should be exactly that way.

Some day I'm going to have to leave you, you know that, right? I'm sure it will be years and years down the road, but know that when I do, I'm going to claim my happiness…the one that goes beyond the strings that tie me to this earth. I know now that you have found yours and I pray you'll understand that someday I must find mine. I love her as much today as I did…probably since the day I met her.

I'll write more, although I'm sure you can count on another big gap. I love you.

Although undated, Alyssa knew the last update couldn't have been more than a few weeks ago…it was only a couple of days prior that they were all together, celebrating Benjamin's one month birthday. She looked down at her father and ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you, daddy…and as hard as it is to let you go, I'm happy for you,” she whispered.

She went to place the letter back in the drawer when another caught her eye. She pulled it out and shook her head. “You'd think this is the only way we communicate,” she said with a soft, melancholy chuckle.

This time it was a paper folded in thirds, on the outside it read, To My Hermione.

Alyssa looked down at her father, her mind grasping the fact that he would never awaken from this slumber, and yet not allowing herself to feel the pain that was sure to accompany the realization when it pierced through her very thin layer of armor.

“I hope you don't mind, daddy,” she said in a surprisingly calm voice. She opened the paper and read…

My Dearest Hermione,

You know how much I miss you. There's not a night that's gone by in the past 20 years that I haven't shared that very fact with you.

I know that you see our baby girl, how much she's grown, how beautiful she is…how much she is loved. I know that it's wrong of me to want that same kind of love for myself because I know that the only way to find it is with you…which means, I would have to leave her. It's so hard to know how to make a choice. It's never been an option before. Until now, she's needed me and I've needed her.

You know me better than to think I could take my own life. That could never happen. I just wonder if by writing it down, by telling you in this way, you and whatever powers-that-be will know that I am ready. When my time comes, I'll be awaiting death's embrace with open arms.

Just as I know you will be awaiting me in much the same way.

I love you and God willing…I'll see you soon.

Harry

Alyssa sat beside her father for an indeterminable amount of time, crying for the loss of him and yet rejoicing in the fact that her parents were finally being reunited. She'd watched her father for so many years and it always broke her heart to know that the mist in his eyes had everything to do with how much he missed his Hermione. She placed her hand against his cold cheek and whispered the words, “I love you, daddy. Thank you.”

She stood and placed everything back into the drawer, making sure not to close it. With one final look at Harry's peaceful form she strode from the room. When she entered the living room she stopped. On the wall above the mantle was a portrait that always seemed to speed up her heart and leave her with a sense of longing…

FLASHBACK

“Alyssa, I have to ask you something,” Harry said solemnly. They had just arrived home from Kings Cross, it was the start of the summer before Alyssa's third year at Hogwarts.

“What is it daddy?” she asked.

“I've been um, rummaging…through things and I…I found this picture….”

He held the picture out to her and Alyssa smiled down at the image. “She's beautiful, dad,” she said, looking down into the smiling face of her mum before returning it to him. “Who's the baby?”

“The child of one of her cousins or something,” Harry replied, waving his hand as if to say that was all irrelevant. “It doesn't matter, not really. What I want…the reason I'm showing it to you, is that…” he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He looked up into the concerned eyes of his daughter. “I'm sorry, Alyssa, I'm making more of this than I should, I know that,” he took another deep breath, “the thing is, I want to commission someone to paint it.”

Alyssa looked at him skeptically. “Why?” she asked curiously. “You don't even know who the baby is. Well, not really,” she added hastily.

Harry chuckled hollowly. “Not at all, Alyssa, it's all right. The fact is, I want to have it commissioned with you in her arms. I just want your permission first.”

Alyssa shook her head. “Why would you want to do that?”

Harry looked down at the picture, tears welled in his eyes and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “It's just…I've always wondered how…” he looked up Alyssa and took another deep breath, “how you'd look, being held in your mum's arms like that.”

Alyssa backed up until the backs of her knees met the sofa and she sat down heavily. “I've…always wanted to know how it felt to be held by her. I don't know if I…” she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

Harry sat down beside her and picked up her hand in his. “I know, Alyssa. I understand. That's why I had to ask you first. It's okay if you don't —”

“One condition,” Alyssa interrupted.

Harry looked at her questioningly. “What's that?”

“You have to be in it, too.”

“Alyssa, I —”

“That's the only way, daddy,” she stated firmly. “You've always been here for me. A picture like that wouldn't be complete without you in it.”

Harry did the only thing he could…he pulled her into his arms and nodded gratefully.

END FLASHBACK

Alyssa stared at it for a moment longer. Hermione was seated in a chair, Alyssa held lovingly in her arms, and Harry standing above them, looking down. Looking at it now, she realized that she'd never really seen that look on her father's face before. It was a look of total love and devotion…a look of completeness.

After one final look around, she apparated home to call her grandparents and to begin making arrangements for her father's funeral.

The funeral was held only two days later and now Alyssa stood, looking out amongst all of their family and friends. She felt his presence before he touched her or spoke a word. “Jonathan,” she said softly as his arms wrapped around her from behind. “Just what I need,” she said as she laid her head back against his shoulder.

Jonathan smiled and kissed her cheek. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

Alyssa turned her face toward his and closed her eyes. A vision filled the darkness…

It was evening, the sky was the muted shade of blue-black that always comes just before the moon and stars fill the night sky. She could hear, so clearly, her mother's laughter, accompanied by the familiar sound of her father's.

“Have you caught one?” her mum shouted gleefully.

“Two,” Harry shouted back, with a bragging sort of undertone.

“Well I've got four,” Hermione retorted with what Alyssa was sure was her best tone of superiority.

“Well how many fireflies do you think we need, love?” Harry said, shaking his head and laughing.

Hermione opened her arms wide and they fell into each other. “Well, how many years do we have to make up for?” she asked.

“Too many,” Harry sighed, claiming her lips with his own.

“I love you, Harry,” Hermione replied, pulling back slightly and looking into his eyes.

“And I love you,” he softly returned.

They looked together toward their daughter. “She's so beautiful,” Hermione said wondrously.

“She's so much like you that I'm amazed by her every day.”

“I wasn't even there,” Hermione replied, trying to keep her tone light. “How could she be like me?”

“Alyssa?” Jonathan whispered a little louder into her ear. “Alyssa, are you all right?”

Alyssa blinked her eyes a few times and then smiled. “Never better.”

………

Somewhere in the heavens Harry was smiling at his Hermione. “Just like her mother,” he whispered her against her lips.

`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.

A/N: For those of you who have been ready for me to end this story and get back to Discovery, your wish is my command. This one is over and I should be able to get back to Discovery very, very soon. Thanks for your patience.

Hopefully the other plot bunny will rest until I can get the next Discovery chapter out! Sometimes they come hard and fast and I find them impossible to ignore.

Thanks so much for all your support.

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