A/N: Hi there, HAPPY NEW YEAR! And as it is a new year, I'm bringing two new chapters. Hope you like them, more answers, and still more questions and there is much more to come still. The good thing about this vacation is that I got to write a lot, and even better, I actually started the plans for my own Year Seven fic. You're probably tired of reading them by now, but I thought I would give it a try. Forgive me.
Disclaimer: I wish.
~*~*~*~
Truth
In the silence of the bedroom around him and despite the low bubbling of his nearby fish tank, Caspar could very clearly hear his mother's movements in the next room. Since she had sent him to bed just two hours before, he had been listening to her, pacing, muttering and finally, tossing about in her bed. She was restless, she couldn't sleep, and he was quite sure that by morning, it would be clear that she hadn't.
This had been the pattern for just over a week now. As a matter of fact, since the night he had found her crying in the study, barely able to speak.
Something was wrong.
She had never given him a reason for that, just sent him off to bed with the promise to tell him in the morning… and then didn't. And maybe that was why it was still bothering her now; she had always told him the truth. But for tonight that would not do, whatever the secret she was keeping, it was not letting her sleep. In the absence of his father, he was the man of the house, her 'little man', and he could not allow that to continue.
In the darkness of his room, the moon having waned to a gentle crescent, the light of the fish tank clearly illuminated the slightly opened door. She never locked it, 'to let in the hall-light' she told him, but he stopped needing that when he got the fish. Tonight though, he would need it again. When she finally settled, as much as she could lately, he would find out exactly what was wrong with her.
He was just beginning to drift away when the tossing stilled. He had had a long day, despite his plans that night, he and Harry had quite an active evening playing "Air Pirates" and raiding the girls' tree house on the brooms (they didn't really fly, they just pretended they did) at the Burrow. He had actually slept there for most of that week-another consequence of that night in the study-until he had made such a fuss that day that she had to take him back.
He hoped Mrs Weasley didn't mind too much, she didn't really need that picture of Harry anyway. None of them in the house really looked at it.
The call of an owl in a nearby tree reminded him of his mission. She had not tossed about for quite some time, he wondered if she had fallen asleep. He hoped she had, he didn't need her to find out what he was up to yet.
An exasperated sigh, something flopped, sheets rustled, and then it was still.
He would have to be extra quiet.
Waiting again until he was sure she would not come out and catch him, Caspar threw off his covers, slipped off the bed and then quickly made his way to the door. His sock covered feet on the carpet muffled his footfalls, the creak of the door near gave him a heart attack, and he paused to make sure she was still quiet.
No sound.
He peered around the door to look at hers-it was closed-and then went out the other way to the stairs. He didn't stop until he was at the top of them.
The window on the landing gave a view of the still, dark and near moonless night without and a snowy owl cut into his gaze. The magnificent creature, with eyes of amber, visible even in the dim light, sounded a call through the air then turned as if to stare directly at him.
He started back a moment, and then ran down the stairs to the second floor and the study. It was only at the bottom that he realised his mistake. She could have heard the thunder of his steps on the hardwood stairs.
Too late to consider that now though, he went on to the study as planned, found it open, as always, and quietly went in.
It was darker than his bedroom, this room needed no nightlight, and he wondered if he really had thought this plan through. He could have done this at some other time, like the morning when it was full of light. Of course, she would be home then, and she would probably be in here, and he would not be able to get the book.
That book was tantamount to his plans. That book probably had all the answers just waiting to be discovered, and he had to discover it. That book, the one she got for her birthday that Mrs Weasley gave him to give to her, how much it upset her and still she read through it.
He had never looked through it himself, but maybe he should have. She had cried the first time she got it too.
Gathering his nerve, Caspar stumbled to her desk in the dark, and turned on the desk lamp. A soft glow lit up his face and the book on the centre of the table. He took it at once, switched off the light and went out of the room.
He would go back upstairs to his own where he could watch it with his nightlight. He had the privacy of his bedroom, he would be in the best position to hear if she was coming, he would be able to monitor her sleeping… and she had the advantage of the open door.
That halted his progress, with the door open she could easily find him with it. He couldn't allow that to happen either.
He retreated to the study, switched on the light again and took her seat at the desk. He had to climb up; his feet could not touch the floor in the chair, and then drag himself forward by gripping the desk. Comfortable there, he opened the book… and was sorely disappointed.
Save for the pictures of Big Harry, there was nothing he could find to upset her. She was smiling in a few, Big Harry at her side or Mrs Weasley or another strange man he didn't know. There was Louis' mother, there was the Burrow, and there was a big, black dog he didn't know either. (She definitely had to get him a toad now!) It was snowing in some, or just cold, or they were tucked away in a warm house. She danced in one, was asleep in another with Harry on the couch-her head on his chest, his hands on her stomach… which looked strange-and just reading quietly by the firelight in one still. There was almost nothing wrong in any.
And then he came to one that was rather strange. Well, maybe not all that strange, but just curious… or rather interesting… or maybe it was just different.
He wondered if she had ever seen it, she looked so pretty he doubted she would cry.
She was standing at the bottom of the stairs in a pretty white dress with a high waist and skirt of beaded lace. Her hair was drawn away from her face, a few loose tendrils at the side, and there was a veil on her head, white like her dress. She looked very much like she did in the pictures of her wedding to his father… except in those the skirt was wider like a bell, her sleeves were short and puffed and the waist was lower as her stomach was flatter. In this she had a big belly… just like those of when she was having him.
He couldn't see a thing that would make her cry in it at all.
On the other page, standing in the same spot was another of her, but Big Harry was with her too. His robes were dark green, like moss, his hair always a mess, a hand around her shoulder and another linked with hers. In the picture, as Caspar looked, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She blushed and looked down at her stomach and then gently ran her hand over it.
That was just like with him too. Was she having a baby? Did she have a baby then too?
"Caspar!"
He started out of the seat and near fell off the chair as it rolled backwards. By the time he had recovered she was already over to the desk and demanding, "What are you doing in here? Why aren't you sleeping?"
He could ask her the same thing. Her harried and dishevelled appearance betrayed her own insomnia. Hair wild, nightgown hanging off her, she ignored the desk and had come over to examine him for injury. Instead though, he chose to ask, "Mummy, did you have a baby before me?"
She instantly froze, her anxious eyes searching his face, and then turned to the desk and the open album. She gasped, "Oh gods…"
Now that he had her, he didn't hesitate to continue, "Mummy, were you and Harry like you and Daddy… did you marry him like Daddy?"
At this she turned back to face him with furrowed brow, "What?"
He slipped off the chair and went to the desk and dragged the album over to her, "See… like when you married Daddy…"
She did not answer though.
She just stared at the pictures open-mouthed; her confusion turned to surprise and then began to turn the pages. The wedding pictures were only spread over two pages, and the first one that came after was of Harry carrying her up the stairs. She froze again, and then took the seat Caspar had just abandoned and for a moment allowed every emotion, from shock, to confusion and finally anger to wash over her.
Caspar stood idly by, not sure if he should continue asking questions, and especially when she began to look angry.
But then she stood again, closed the book, and looked at the clock. She seemed to deliberate something a moment, then shook her head, muttered, "They have to answer me," and turned to him, "Get your shoes and your coat, we're going to the Burrow."
He looked hesitant and began to protest, "But Mummy, I broke Mrs Weasley's…"
One more look silenced that and he wordlessly went out up to his room. When he came back down she had already gotten her coat and shoes and started the emerald flames of the Floo Network. There was no stopping her now, what had he done?
"Come on, Caspar, I know them, they're still awake," she said, calling him over to the fireplace.
He went to her; she lifted him into her arms, whispered, "Its okay, Mummy just wants to talk,"
He did not believe her.
Securing her hold on him then, she stepped into the fireplace.
~*~*~*~
Despite Madam Pince's best attempts, the Hogwarts library was never truly a place of silent reading or study. If not for the barely audible sound of pages turning, quills scratching against parchment, or a chair being replaced, there was always also the sound of footsteps between the shelves, whispering voices, falling books, and once or twice, a low snore. Sometimes the students would entirely forget where they were, her screeching at them then didn't help matters any. At other times it were the books that made the noise, and especially when a wily student dared to steal into the Restricted Section.
This was how it always was, even for her predecessors, and this was how it always would be, unfortunately, for her and her successors.
And tonight, it was no different.
The twins had come into the library this evening, at the time they were usually off to the Duelling Club, and had taken a place at the window in the study area furthest from her desk and the door. They ignored the books and bags they had brought with them, including one Aimee had taken from a shelf on her way over, choosing instead to spread the desk before them with copies of the Daily and Evening Prophet, Witch Weekly and The Quibbler. Tonight's visit had nothing at all to do with school or the events of the wider world, they had far more important matters to discuss.
Aimee began the whispering, "It's true."
She had just come upon a copy of the last week's Daily Prophet, the one from the morning of Pansy's visit.
"Do You Know These Girls?" read her sister:
"That's the question on the lips of many at the Ministry of Magic and the administration of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In light of a recent shocking revelation about the identical twins that transferred to the prestigious Wizarding academy some three weeks ago, staff in both places is at a loss to the answer.
The twins, identified as twelve year old Maia Jae and Aimee Jean Black, are apparently not the nieces of Amaranthe Montgomery, their late legal guardian, as was apparently told to the administration of both Hogwarts and their former school, the Beauxbatons Academy, and the Ministry. As a matter of fact, the family of Miss Montgomery claim that the first they heard of the children was at St Mungo's when they went to collect their relative's remains. To their knowledge, Amaranthe was an Auror on protective service for the past eleven years, has never married and…"
Maia stopped reading and looked at her sister. Aimee drew another paper from the spread and read, "A Finished Line Restarted: Twin Sisters claimed for the House of Black!"
Maia took up Witch Weekly, "The Secret Lives of Sirius and Regulus Black: Which Brother's the Father?"
"Devilishly handsome, appropriately wealthy and infamous to boot, the Black brothers were prime heirs to the title of the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelors-when their lives came to an end in the dark year of 1981. Separated in death by some sixteen years, the brothers were reportedly on opposite ends of the Wizarding war against the Dark Lord. However, we at Witch Weekly have found that their rivalry may extend to a whole new level: fatherhood.
In the case of twin sisters Aimee and Maia Black, a veritable whodunit has arisen: who's the father, and where he has been all our (and their) lives?"
"Toujours Pur No More: Muggle Blood Runneth in House of Black's Pureblood Veins!" Aimee read from the Evening Prophet. A quick glance told her she didn't really need to read further.
The Quibbler was a woeful disappointment, or maybe a pleasant surprise, not a page made mention of the twins. The stories of the others for the rest of the week went on and on with fantastical reports of women claiming to be not only the twins' mother but the secret wives of Sirius and Regulus Black. None of them stood up to the question of their whereabouts when a few proclaimed knowledge of Sirius' innocence, others still got descriptions of the brothers quite wrong and then still some claimed that neither brother was dead in the first place.
Pansy featured heavily in interviews, Draco Malfoy was reportedly 'indisposed', and no one could make contact with Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, the Weasley family or Hermione Granger for comment. By the fifth day of the news breaking the headlines changed to, "Gilderoy Lockhart to Speak on Harry Potter at Eleventh Anniversary Celebrations!"
They had become old news and were forgotten.
Well, to the world at least, if they looked up from their desk now they were sure to see someone staring.
Claiming relation to the House of Black, even if you didn't really mean to or thought anything of it, meant that you were somewhat related to Harry Potter. Being somewhat related to Harry Potter made you famous: either a pompous fraud and a bold-faced liar or the closest they would ever get to him.
For them it had meant an entire week at the mercy of the school they thought was getting used to them. And that meant that they were speedily proven wrong. Not many were too keen on listening to explanations and denials where Pansy's declaration was concerned. They were even snubbed by Lixue and Sarmistha… well, at first anyway, and it took Professor Weasley's direct intervention at one point to stop the stares in the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
They had become outcasts, a position, as it was, much worse than just being an outsider. If they ever hated Pansy before, they hated her now.
Aimee whispered again, "If Daddy sees this he's not going to be happy."
"He doesn't know what we know," Maia whispered back.
"Why didn't they tell us that she wasn't our aunt? That 'Tantie Marie' was just an old fraud, 'mes petites filles pauvres'… they both lied," said Aimee, bitterly.
"Shh!" her sister silenced her, and then whispered, "They didn't lie, and she was our aunt. She took care of us because Papa and Mum couldn't. They both love us, she loved us, and you know it!"
Aimee was silent a moment and then said, "That doesn't make you an aunt, that makes you an au pair."
Maia glared at her, and then said, "It doesn't matter anymore anyway, for what it was worth, she took care of us… kept us safe like they say she was doing… and now we're safe in here just like Daddy always was…"
Aimee said no more to that, and turned back to the papers, then drew one atop the pile.
It was the Evening Prophet, of the same day of Pansy's visit, but focusing instead on the first appearance in public of the widow of Viktor Krum and her son since her return to England. She was shopping in London, a black and white photograph showing the two window-shopping at Harrods, and above the picture a headline blared, "Out and About in London, Mrs Krum and Son Step Out!"
"I wish we could be safe with Mum," she said then, her voice tinged with a sadness that only appeared at the mention of their mother.
Maia looked at the paper and covered it over with the rest, "Me too… but not today, she wouldn't understand…"
"I hate Tantie Marie," said Aimee.
Her sister had no reply to this, knowing that further argument was futile, and instead looked out the window at the dark night sky. A silent moment would pass before she said, "Can you imagine that they-or rather, Mum-used to sit here, in this very library, at these very tables, trying to save Papa's life every year?"
Aimee gave her sister a momentary glance, then followed her gaze out the window, "Sometimes… in Gryffindor Tower I like to think that I have Mum's room… and I sit on the same chairs that she did, and I look out the window and can see Hagrid's hut and everything… just like they did."
A snowy owl cut across their gaze, flowed over the forest and lake and disappeared.
"I can't see that from the basement," whined Maia, childishly.
Aimee grinned, "That's what you get for being a duffer… but at least you can keep an eye on the Slytherins."
"A duffer… oh, you mean being you? I may look like you but I'm not, and I don't have time for the Slytherins… especially Rhiannon. Do you know that she said she was sorry?" asked Maia.
Her sister turned back to her, clearly annoyed, "Oh… she did? She doesn't look too sorry; she didn't look too sorry all week. She didn't tell her friends a thing when I was here before trying to do my Charms essay, which, by the way, have you finished yet?"
Standing in the doorway, just out of earshot, Ron looked in at the twins at the table and gave a relieved sigh.
When they hadn't shown up for the meeting he had searched the entire castle for them, his mind filled with horrible images of Pansy and a Death Eater army come to take them away to Malfoy Manor. Off to that hell-hole of Death Eater splendour where nothing but the Dark Arts and blood purity were cherished above all… not that it was much different at Grimmauld Place, but still….
He didn't know why he had given Pansy's parting lines any weight but he just had. The world could say what they wanted about them but there were certain men Ron believed belonged in Azkaban after the war and Draco Malfoy was one of them. No matter that he had helped them, no matter that he hadn't killed Dumbledore, he-and Snape while he was at it-belonged to rot in the cold dungeons of that prison for the rest of their lives.
But away from that and seeing the twins now, it was almost as wonderful as finding his son again after one particularly terrible evening in Diagon Alley.
He had lost too many people in his life, he couldn't lose any more.
He brushed that thought away at once. He didn't think like that, the others did but he wouldn't.
A gaggle of First Years went by on their way out; Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at them and then stopped with a stiff smile when she saw him. He smiled back and walked into the library headed straight for the twins' table, the two girls deep in yet another of their secret conversations. They didn't even look up until he was upon them and began, "Hey you two, skiving off eh? I wouldn't advise starting that until Fifth Year though, I didn't."
Blank expressions hastily became mischievous smiles, and Maia said, "We thought we'd give the others a chance for once, especially Philippe, catch up on our schoolwork… I'm useless at Transfiguration."
He looked at them sceptically, spied the papers and asked, "What were you trying to do, turn these papers in firewood?"
"No," said Aimee, unblushingly, "Toilet paper."
~*~*~*~
Never one to beat around the bush, no sooner than had Fleur arrived at the Burrow that night, than did she announce to all present, "Someone's stealing `Arry's money!"
All present, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fred and Angelina, Ginny and Neville and Lupin and his three year old son, turned to her in surprise.
It was late; they had been waiting for her to arrive for dinner for hours since her owl had arrived from Gringotts. They customarily met like this to eat nowadays, and her announcement that she would be working late had Mrs Weasley slightly miffed. Dinner was being magically kept warm in the kitchen at the dining table, and as Fleur came in a set of candles at the table lit up. The light it cast gently illuminated the room, revealing a Burrow little changed from the days of their childhood and the Second War.
The last thing they expected to hear from her mouth then was what she actually said.
She assumed they misheard and repeated, "Someone `as stolen from `Arry, they `ave been doing so for twelve years now… we suspected it last week… but now we know it's true."
This brought them back to their senses, Mrs Weasley speaking first asked, "What…?"
Ginny asked next, "We… who's we?"
Fleur took off her coat, kissed her husband and settled into the living room with them, "We… are Mrs Cho Corner and I. (Mrs Weasley and Ginny made faces) She discovered zee discrepancy and investigated for me… then zis morning she called me with news zat a large withdrawal was made late last week from `is account… someone is stealing from `im."
For a time then, the room was silent again, the ghoul in the attic and the wind in the trees without being the only distraction.
But what could they say to this really? What questions were they going to ask? Who were they supposed to suspect? Where would they begin? And why did Ron have to be working tonight when he could be here yelling and ready for a fight?
And then Mr Weasley asked, "Do you have any idea of who this person may be? What they look like?"
Fred began, "George and I were just trying to convince those goblins last week to use some of our stuff… you might know who it is today. Remember that old saying in flagrante delicto, well…"
"Be quiet, sweetheart," said Angelina, closing his lips with her fingers. He grinned despite it.
"No… zee person is authorised… he allowed them to take the money…. This last week… that person came back again… more money than usual… we can do nothing to stop zem, and we still don't know who they are," Fleur said.
"Do you know why they're allowed to take this money?" asked Mrs Weasley.
No one caught her sideways glance to Lupin. Not even he for he was looking down at his son, and not paying attention then either.
"No," said Fleur, catching the glance and staring curiously at her mother-in-law, "we can't tell why. Cho was looking at some 'patterns'… she thinks she has something but still… in zee end we don't know what's going on…"
"What does she have?" asked Ginny.
Fleur was silent a moment, as if considering her answer, and then she replied, "It's very strange zis pattern… I barely know how to explain it…"
And then suddenly she was cut off by the eruption of towering emerald flames from the fireplace.
Everyone started out of their seats, Bill and Fred took on a defensive stance, wands drawn, the others barely moved. Very few people had authorised access to the Weasley home on the network… though people could still get in….
Mr Weasley called, "Lo… who's there?"
Their defences fell the moment Hermione and son stepped out of the flames in the middle of the room.
"Oh gods, Hermione!" began Fred, "Woman, you are Muggle-born but you do know how to use an owl!"
Hermione ignored him.
Setting down Caspar, and not even hesitating to dust herself clean, she walked to Mrs Weasley and said, "I was married to Harry!"
That silenced the room again, and put all thoughts of Fleur's revelation out of their heads.
Mrs Weasley did not reply, Lupin finally looked away from his son in alarm, and Ginny went very pale.
Hermione repeated, "I was married to Harry… wait… no… was I married to Harry? According to this photo album (she drew it out from her robes and flipped it open in Mrs Weasley's lap to the very page) I was… and not only that, I was pregnant?"
This time the silence was deafening, you could barely hear a person breathe. Ginny swayed slightly in her seat and put her hand to her head to steady herself. Something fell at the fireplace and broke, echoing, all eyes turned to Fred.
He laughed nervously and said, "Sorry… thought I should make a distraction… seemed appropriate-right-then-Reparo!"
Hermione continued to ignore them, "Please Molly, tell me… because I don't understand it… I don't even remember it… was I married to Harry? I can see that I was pregnant-I don't know how that happened either-but…"
Mrs Weasley turned the book round in her lap and then looked down at Hermione. The silence continued, the others waiting with bated breath for her reply….
She said only one word.
"Yes."
Hermione stopped pleading, her mouth fell open and she fell back on her haunches away from Mrs Weasley. Fred and Bill left the fireplace and took seats besides their wives on the arms of the sofas. Mr Weasley turned to his wife in shock, Lupin let his son go over to Caspar-standing in the room staring at his mother and Mrs Weasley transfixed-and Neville tried to draw Ginny's attention for she seemed to go even paler.
Finally Hermione spoke again, swallowing slowly she asked, "T-to which question was that d-directed?"
Mrs Weasley released a deep breath, "Both."
Hermione swallowed again, looked down at her hands and gasped, stifling a cry.
"Why? Um… no… how-how did this happen?" she asked a moment later, and apparently when she could speak again.
Lupin looked directly at Mrs Weasley, she kept her eyes trained on Hermione but could feel his, and all the others', gaze upon her. And then she said, "I… I'm not sure exactly…"
Technically, it was the truth.
Hermione nodded at this and then asked, "D-did my baby… did it die?"
She swallowed again even before Mrs Weasley began to reply. Her eyes were now trained on the floor but there was no doubt they were filled with fear.
Mrs Weasley began to reply, paused and then said, "N…"
Hermione cut her off again, "No, scratch that one… Healer Abbey, he said there was a report… it said I-I gave birth… s-so tell me instead… was-was it a boy or a girl?"
Mrs Weasley made to reply again but didn't. Ginny said softly, "Mum…"
Lupin began, and Mrs Weasley finally took over, "It was a girl…"
"Girls…" corrected Lupin, "There were two of them, a surprise for you… identical twins…"
"You knew too…?" asked Hermione, turning to him.
Mrs Weasley continued, "Yes, identical… and no… they didn't die… you… you gave them up…"
This made Hermione turn back to her with clearest shining joy in her eyes that immediately died. There was a look to her son, she offered a weak smile, and then returned to Mrs Weasley, "W… no… h… no… why did Harry marry me… was it… was it to make it legitimate… did something happen to me… D-Death Eaters…?"
Mrs Weasley and Lupin then, had to wonder why for someone so smart, that Hermione immediately went to the worst conclusion. Well, maybe it had nothing to do with intelligence, but why didn't she think of the simpler alternative?
Lupin began, "No, Hermione… Harry…"
"Harry… well, yes, he wanted to make them legitimate…" said Mrs Weasley.
"Oh no…" said Hermione and Mrs Weasley tried her best not to sigh in exasperation. She knew why she thought that way, she understood, or at least she was trying to, but still….
"Oh no, he… oh gods…" Hermione went on and stifled another cry. "He… he married me…? Oh Harry, you were always so noble… I didn't deserve that… I'm sure of it…. He… he married me, oh Harry…. W-was I still married to him… when… when…"
A quick look to Lupin and he replied for Mrs Weasley, "He was…"
At this Ginny finally made her presence known again, asking, "W-what…?"
And then suddenly they remembered that they were not alone.
Hermione turned to look at them and then dropped her head. They didn't have to look closely to know that she was ashamed, there could be nothing else on her face but.
"Oh my… I…" she started to say and then, as some realisation came to her, she turned back to her son and gasped, "Oh gods… Viktor…"
Even though they were acknowledged though, none of the others spoke. They just remained where they were in silent astonishment looking on as Hermione cried and Lupin and Mrs Weasley watched, seemingly unable to move as well. Caspar left Lupin's son, went over to his mother and embraced her.
In a mixture of what could only be grief, shock and shame, tears ran errant down her cheeks. Tracing speedily down her face they dripped unto her robes and her son's hands as he tried to wipe her face dry. She let him comfort her, stroking her hair and wiping her face and every few moments whispering, "Its okay Mum… you're alright Mum… Mummy…"
But maybe she didn't believe him for eventually her voice came through, "To me… the… he was… he should have had… and all he got was me…. I'm not worth it… why-why did he have to be so noble…? He should have had someone he loved, not me… I was a burden, a responsibility… a… oh gods…. Harry… Harry…"
Lupin's voice came then, a low whisper so fierce with passion that it seemed unnatural coming from him as he said, "Don't you ever… don't you ever think you were not worth it…."
Hermione stopped crying and looked up at him, her eyes seemingly drowning in sparkling tears. She protested, "B-but… he just did it because he felt responsible for me… he should have had someone he loved…"
Lupin only came stronger, "He loved you!"
"As a friend…" she insisted and he immediately rose from his seat, went over to her and kneeled.
Taking her warm, wet face in his hands he said, "Hermione, you are very smart but sometimes you can be so foolish. Hermione, he didn't and never regretted this… he loved you. And he married you, not because he felt responsible… but because he was responsible… he was the father…"
Hermione stopped crying at once.
She paused, looking at him completely stunned, floored even, unable to speak… or think….
"What did you say?" she asked.
Or maybe it was Ginny or someone else, she couldn't be sure really.
And then she fainted.
Hermione woke up angry.
She couldn't be sure how long she was out for. She didn't know if she had fallen to the ground kneeling or had been standing and fell on this couch. She could barely remember that she was at the Burrow in the first place. But there was one thing that she remembered, and for that she was angry.
The first words out of her mouth as she came out of a darkened world into one of light and sound was, "Why… why in the name of all that is… why didn't you tell me about this before!"
Someone came over with a damp cloth and a soothing voice, "Shh, calm down darling, you need to rest a bit…"
"NO!" she yelled, "TELL ME THE TRUTH! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS BEFORE? WHY DID YOU KEEP IT A SECRET? WHY DID YOU WAIT TWELVE YEARS BEFORE YOU FINALLY DID IT? Were you ashamed of me? Because I have to tell you, I'm ashamed of myself enough already! Why…?"
"Calm down," soothed the voice again. "You're upsetting yourself…"
Her vision cleared at once.
Seated beside her on the sofa, her attendant was Mrs Weasley and for some reason she never looked older, or more tired. In the background were still the others, minus Caspar and Lupin's son.
She sat up even straighter then and asked, "Where… where is my son…?"
"He's upstairs… he's scared, and confused," replied Lupin.
Hermione found with certain pleasure that his voice was filled with shame. It was not like hers, but it was there and that was enough. Looking up at him then she found the same look on his face that was on Mrs Weasley's.
The pleasure ebbed away slightly, but her anger remained.
"Of course he is, it's not his fault… and so am I…. I had a baby… babies… in the war… when Harry was dying…. You didn't tell me that… and then… he's… he's their father… Harry…? W… I… and we gave them away… somewhere out there; someone is raising Harry's children…. Oh my gods… they don't even know who we are they are… do they?"
Fred cut in, "Well… actually they would… I mean you were Krum's wife…. Harry Potter…"
"Thank you, Fred," Hermione told him, though there wasn't malice in it. "But… they don't know me… us… like… their p-parents…. I had a baby… with Harry… babies… children… in the war…"
"Yes, you did," said Mrs Weasley, her voice descending to a soft whisper.
Hermione swallowed a cry, and then asked, "Why… why don't I remember this?"
At this Lupin and Mrs Weasley looked away from her, and then couldn't look at the others.
It was then that Hermione noticed their faces.
Anger, disappointment, disbelief… every emotion and expression she felt they had… and Ginny… she seemed calm now but Hermione knew better. In her eyes was something very close to devastation. How else would you feel if you learned the man you loved, who you had been waiting for, who had died in a war you were forced out of had had children by another woman during that time?
Hermione didn't want to think that she had been waiting for Harry to come back for her in the end. Before she was firm in that belief, but now, she didn't want to think it.
Mrs Weasley had turned back to face her, a sad look in her eyes, and said, "After… after the twins were born… Harry made a decision t-to give them up…. It wasn't safe for them with you, no matter where you hid; they could've been killed at any given moment if anyone ever found out…. So there was a potion… it took months to make and then it just sat there… until Harry was sure he could do it and let go…. But it would've been better if he hadn't seen the children, if he hadn't spent seven months raising them, watching them grow up… those are memories… so precious… no one should have them taken away…. Yet he had a world to save and you and the children to protect… so he decided to drink the potion…. And on the day he was going to do it, you found out… and refused to let him go back alone… even if Ron and everyone else was there… insisted that he and Ron were useless without you…. He argued with you for hours… until you… until he made you choose… he told you that either you chose him or them…. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, but he made you choose… and in the end, you chose him. His face… he didn't want you to do that… but you did."
"Oh gods…" said Hermione, softly and she stared at the floor again for some time. No one dared a word.
Eventually though, she asked, "B-but, none of this explains why you didn't tell me after…?"
"It partially does…" said Lupin. "When Harry… when he disappeared after the battle… we didn't know how to tell you…. We couldn't even come up with a reasonable answer for everything so… we didn't. In the absence of their father, we just thought, it would be less painful if you never saw them, if you never had to live with the knowledge that Harry wasn't there to raise them too…"
"You chose for me…?" said Hermione, her voice a whisper but the hurt in it clear.
"I know… we know that was wrong… but all of you were hurting so much… we didn't know how… so we kept it between us…. The twins were safe, and you would have a new life, where you wouldn't have to hurt like that…" he told her.
"How do you think I feel now?" she demanded.
"Hermione…" Mrs Weasley began.
"No…! NO! You… you let me marry Viktor… without knowing this… our son is upstairs, tonight he just found out he has older sisters! You… you didn't even think that I deserved to at least know then… my life… it was a waste when I met Viktor again. I could've been with my daughters… oh gods…" Hermione said, her expression clearly revealing her anger, her revulsion, and her mortification.
"Hermione…" pleaded Mrs Weasley.
Hermione wasn't listening though; she threw her legs over the sides and tried to stand. Lupin made to help her, but she snapped, "No… GET AWAY FROM ME!"
"Hermione, please understand… we didn't know what to do! At first, we just thought it would be so simple to tell you… but it was just after the war, so we thought you would recover first and then…. But then days turned to weeks to months and then years… and it didn't get any simpler. Eleven years ago, after Hallowe'en, if we had come up to you and told you about Maia and Jul… Aimee, you probably… we…" Lupin tried to explain but Hermione cut in.
"Wait… what, did you say?" she asked, halting her escape from the sofa to look him straight in the eyes.
Someone gasped in the background, footsteps on the landing told that Caspar had possibly come down again.
"What…?" asked Lupin, "I-I was asking… please Hermione, please, I… we beg your forgiveness… we didn't… we made a mistake… but we…"
Hermione shook her head, "I… I need some time to think this through… but… w-what-what are their names?"
"Maia… Maia Jae and Aimee Jean…" replied Mrs Weasley. "Maia, and at one point for her sister, Julia, but Harry changed it to Aimee, he said something about too many months. Maia, 'the great one', Jae for her grandfather, and her father, it means the same thing James does, 'supplanter'. Aimee means 'beloved', she was the surprise twin, you had no name for her, so he chose that and then gave her your middle name, 'Jean' for 'God's gracious gift', like Jane…. And their surnames, Black… changed from Potter to protect them… he gave them over to his godfather…. Sirius would protect them; like he did for Harry, but this time with his name… your daughters are Maia Jae and Aimee Jean Black…"
Hermione's mouth opened in shock, she stretched a hand forward and gripped the side of Lupin's arm and stared at Mrs Weasley.
"You mean… those little girls… the twins… the ones brought over here… the ones who were in the paper all week… they're mine…? They're mine?" asked Hermione.
Mrs Weasley nodded.
"Maia… Maia and Aimee…" she repeated, and then she smiled. She smiled until a laugh escaped her and the other hand went to her mouth, "All week… all this week I thought they were dead… until Caspar… oh gods…. But this means that they're… that they're at Hogwarts…?"
There was a moment of awe, she laughed again, and looked around at the others, "They're… at Hogwarts… just like we were…. Caspar found them… my babies… (her face fell, her smile fading away to one of utmost sadness) with Ron…"
The others registered her change in mood and turned with expressionless stares.
She returned to Lupin and Mrs Weasley and asked, "Does he… did he know… did he know about them…?"
Lupin dropped his head, "No… no one else save me, Molly, you and Harry, of course, the portraits… Fleur… (She and Bill among the others immediately stared up at him wide-eyed) and… Severus Snape… who brewed the potion…. Ron was hurt… we felt no need to include him…. You were both afraid of his reaction, Harry more than he let on…"
"But we should have told him. He's our friend… their… their uncle… (her smile returned briefly) he should know… he should have known…" said Hermione.
"At nineteen, and twenty, neither of you were too keen on risking it… Eventually you would have, of course, you were already planning to when Harry… when Harry decided to drink the potion. Miss Granger… Hermione… I beg your forgiveness for this… I beg all of your forgiveness for this… we should have said something sooner…" Lupin replied, his eyes pleading.
Hermione's joy waned to sadness, and she fell into silence. And then she said, "I… I don't know if I can… I don't even know if I can forgive myself… maybe I will… someday…. But I-I want my memories back… for goodness sake, I-I want my children back…. They've grown up without me for too long…"
Mrs Weasley offered her a sad smile, "Yes they have…"
Silence fell a moment again; Hermione rose from her seat and walked to their stairs where Caspar and Lupin's son sat watching.
She offered him a faint smile, which he didn't return. Not immediately anyway, but when he did he stood and raced down to her, drawing her into a tight hug.
Then Fred spoke up again.
"Well… this just confirms two things…. One, Harry had more in him than we thought… ("Fred Weasley!" screeched his mother, he went on as if he hadn't heard her, and Hermione blushed crimson) and two… now we know where that money was going…"
"What money…?" asked Hermione, breaking away from her son to look at him.
Fleur gasped, "Oh my… from `is account… I think we do…"
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