The Ties That Bind - Erin's First Christmas

Excalibur

Rating: G
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 25/12/2005
Last Updated: 25/12/2005
Status: completed

The Ties That Bind introduced Erin Potter and the secret that her parents Harry and Hermione had kept from her for 18 years. Discover now, how Harry and Hermione finally admitted their love for each other and why Tonks was put into storage. This is a One-shot Sequel to The Ties That Bind.

Chapters

1. Erin's First Christmas

1. Erin's First Christmas

The snow crunched under his feet with each enormous, plodding step. His breath clung to his massive, unruly beard, forming a sort of frost around his lips and nose, each puff of warm air rising from his nostrils and mouth like smoke. With beady, black eyes, Hagrid looked towards the Burrow and a wide, white smile erupted from behind the mass of hair on his face. He hoisted his package, a huge tree, to his shoulder and resumed his march up the garden path.

“He’s here!” Molly Weasley squealed in delight from her perch by the kitchen window. Her excited declaration caused a commotion in the house as everyone took to moving furniture this way and that to clear a path to the sitting room.

Mr. Weasley smiled brightly in greeting after he enlarged the doorframe to allow their widest and tallest of family friends entrance into the ancestral family home.

“’Appy Christmas!” Hagrid called into the house after he’d shaken many loose pine needles from his beaver skin coat. “’An I see yer got a path fer me ter follow!” With little effort, the half-giant pulled the large tree through the kitchen and with the help of a wand or three, righted the evergreen and set it into the base that would be its home for the next fortnight.

“Merry Christmas, Hagrid,” Harry said with a grin as he slipped his wand into its holster. Before he could look up, his long-time friend caught him in a bear hug that would have easily cracked all his ribs if Hagrid had been serious about doing so.

“’Arry! Yer lookin’ good! How are the new mum ‘an dad?”

“Tired,” Hermione said as she stepped from the stairway to hug Hagrid in greeting. “Erin’s been a handful these past few months.”

“She doesn’t like to sleep without us near,” Harry explained as he rubbed his side. “As soon as we leave the room, she’s crying again.”

“Luckily she was too tired to wake up again tonight,” Hermione said followed by a tired yawn. She smiled apologetically and took a seat, obviously very tired due to lack of sleep.

“Go and get some rest,” Harry said quietly. “We won’t start the first day until after everyone else is here.”

Hermione smiled slightly and looked at the enormous tree. It was a very good thing that the tree was so large, with all the Weasleys, Grangers, and Potters, there was little doubt the tree would be seen after all the ornaments were hanging from its branches. Her smile faded as another, deeper yawn overtook her and grudgingly, she agreed to excuse herself to take a quiet kip for a few hours.

Harry sat heavily at the kitchen table and let out a sigh.

“Something on your mind, Harry dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked as she set a cup of hot cocoa in front of her unofficially adopted son. “Things not going well with Tonks?”

“It’s still so difficult to see her,” he replied followed by another sigh. “The dreams are still so intense and then I wake up to see her watching me from the wall… It’s surreal.”

“How is she taking her condition?”

“Well,” Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, “she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s gone, physically. She’s also accepted her expanded portrait status…”

Molly nodded as she listened. Most in the wizarding world knew that portraits were minor reflections of the people they portrayed in life. Common phrases and pieces of advice that they’d given while alive were the most likely sources of conversation from a normal wizard painting.

The difference with Tonks’ rendering was easily determined. Though paint and canvas, she was more animated and had a larger vocabulary than any other painting Molly could recall. The younger witch’s ashes had been mixed with the paint after her cremation and that allowed the majority of the deceased’s personality and memories to reside on the canvas as well.

When Hermione had surprised Harry with the portrait on his birthday five months prior, it was with a stunned expression on his face that he’d left for St. Mungo’s. Returning home, for the burrow was the home for all of Molly’s children—official or not, two weeks later with both Erin and Hermione warmed the old woman’s heart. For the first time since Tonks had passed, Harry was wearing a genuine smile.

However, that’s when the arguments with Tonks began. Almost daily, whenever Harry was in the same room with the portrait version of his ex-fiancée a shouting match between the two was inevitable. From the start, Harry wanted Tonks to see their daughter. She agreed at first, but after a while became despondent and depressed.

“She told me no again,” Harry said. His words were as heavy as his heart felt. “She wants everyone to keep this quiet. She doesn’t want Erin to know about her and doesn’t want anyone to say anything about what happened.”

“She’s being unreasonable!” Ginny said as she walked in and overheard the conversation. “She’s Erin’s mother as well! Erin should know!”

“Easy, Gin,” Neville said as he lifted their first born son, Christopher, higher on his hip. The four year old was fast asleep after crying for the past hour since he’d fallen down the stairs. “She may sound mad, but I think she’s got Erin’s best interest at heart.”

Harry stood and rubbed his eyes. The constant quarreling with Tonks and attending to Erin had begun to take its toll. “I don’t know if I can keep up with all of this,” he admitted after a leonine yawn.

“Up to bed with you,” Molly said while forcibly turning him towards the stairs. “It’ll do no good for Erin if you’re so knackered you can’t look after her.”

Harry nodded his agreement but noted the hint of happiness in her voice. It had been a long time since a baby had graced the home. Christopher was four years old now and though Molly loved her first grandson to death, the sounds babies made seemed to fill her with happiness, the same kind of happiness that Harry saw when Hermione was with Erin.

He slowly trudged up the stairs, paying little attention to the rows upon rows of photographs smiling and waving to him as he passed until he reached a certain shot taken of him during his first year at Hogwarts. He smiled wistfully at the memory, watching his eleven-year-old self flanked on both sides by Hermione and Ron. He noted that even then, Hermione was chancing covert glimpses at him and Ron’s smile reawakened memories of the one person who was as close to a brother that Harry would ever have. The three of them smiled and smiled, blissfully unaware of what was going to happen to them in the next five years, of all the changes that would destroy their friendship.

With a final sigh, Harry pushed past the memories and returned his waning concentration to ascending the stairs. As quietly as the door would allow him, Harry opened it and snuck into Hermione’s room. She was fast asleep in her bed as was Erin in her crib. He looked in on his five-month-old daughter and smiled lovingly at her peaceful face.

“I love you,” he whispered quietly and bent to kiss her on the head. Erin yawned, stretched, and seemed to turn towards his warmth.

The most curious feeling darted through Harry’s heart at the sight and he knew what he had to do. He knew Tonks was right. After stroking his daughter’s cheek and fixing Hermione’s blankets, Harry snuck out of the room and once again made his way to his own room down the hall.

Tonks was napping in a chair that Hermione had painted in the scene and woke when Harry entered.

“Wotcher, Love?” she asked sleepily and smiled as Harry pulled up a chair to sit next to the portrait. “Did Hagrid get here with the tree?”

Harry nodded absently, deep in thought, as he mulled over the best way to tell Tonks what he needed to say.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, concern laced in her voice when Harry didn’t say anything immediately.

“I’ve been thinking about what you’ve been saying during our arguments,” Harry said at last after a sigh of defeat. “Erin needs to focus on Hermione and me until she’s old enough to understand what’s happened.”

Tonks sat in silence, hanging on every word that Harry spoke. She nodded but before she could say anything else, Harry continued.

“I’m not going to be of any use, being as tired as I’ve been” he said softly. “I can barely handle work, Erin, Hermione, and then our constant fighting—”

“We don’t fight all the time,” Tonks said quickly. “Just about not telling Erin…”

“And about how much time I spend with Hermione and how much time I spend away from you, amongst other things,” he retorted. Harry didn’t want to bring up Tonks’ depression and certainly didn’t want to say anything about her inability to hold her daughter. “And we argue nearly every night.”

“I only see you when you’re getting ready for bed and when you get up in the morning,” she countered. “I love you, Harry, and it tears me up that I can’t see you or Erin for more than a half hour each day!”

“Don’t you think it tears me up inside that I can’t hold you?” Harry asked hotly. “Don’t you think I wish you could hold our daughter and show her how much you love her?” He stood, suddenly full of energy he didn’t realize he had. “Every day I wish that you weren’t dead and we were living a life together like we were supposed to!”

“It’s not my fault—”

“I know it’s not your fault!” Harry said angrily. “God damn it! I’m tired of fighting with you!”

“Well, you can’t blame me for being upset, can you?” Tonks yelled in return. “The two people I love most are right here and I can’t do a BLOODY thing about it!”

Harry slumped in his chair, his anger having depleted the remaining energy he had left, and he buried his face in his hands. “I can’t take this anymore…” he whispered hoarsely.

“What can’t you take?” Tonks asked, her voice shaking and ready to explode should another shouting match take place.

“I’m being worn down, Erin needs me,” he replied. “I’m trying to follow your wishes, Love, God knows I’m trying… but I just can’t, not like this.”

Worry creased her features and Tonks cursed when she couldn’t reach out to the man she loved and hold him. “Harry… Love…”

“I love you,” Harry said, looking up at Tonks with tears forming in his eyes. “But I can’t move on like this. There are just too many demands and I can’t fulfill them all.”

“I love you too, Harry,” Tonks whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m still trying to get used to this… this situation.”

Harry nodded. “I know.” He looked away from her to the photo he had of Hermione and Erin. It was taken the day after Erin was born and Hermione still looked extremely tired. Though there hadn’t been any complications during the birth, the hormone treatment she had taken to prepare herself for the baby hadn’t run its full course. Her body had been under an extreme amount of strain that required a full two weeks of bed rest afterwards. But that didn’t stop the wide smile that was firmly in place on her face.

He heard Tonks sigh in irritation, again. Every time he looked at that photo she grew irritated and shortly thereafter—

“There you go again,” she said accusingly. “Every bloody time we start making headway, you look at that photo Erin and her!”

“Not again,” Harry groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to force the developing migraine from his skull. “You know how much you mean to Hermione, don’t you? How much Erin means to all of us, and how much Hermione means to me, right?”

“You know I do!” Tonks growled. “But do you know what it’s like to see the man you love falling in love with someone else? Do you know how hard it is for me to see the two of you raising OUR daughter?”

“As I recall,” Harry growled, “BOTH of us accepted her help when she said she’d carry Erin for you! BOTH of us agreed to let Hermione do it! She saved her! She’s saving me—”

“SAVING YOU?!” Tonks screeched. “Saving you from what? From ME?!”

“I didn’t say that,” Harry said angrily, glaring at Tonks as he did so.

“Then what do you need saving from?” she retorted, glaring angrily at him in return. “Is it so horrible that I’m here, to talk to you?”

“I’M LONELY!” Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. “I can’t handle this anymore!”

Erin’s cries caught his attention and he sighed as he got up. “Now look what I’ve done!” he grumbled as he headed for the door. He ignored Tonks’ protests as he stepped into the hall and cast a silencing charm on his room to stifle her yelling. With a hand to his head, he stalked down the room and attempted to compose himself before facing Hermione and his daughter.

Hermione looked nonplussed when he opened the door. She was bouncing Erin in her arms in an attempt to quiet her and glared at him as he shut the door behind him.

“What was it this time?” she hissed when he’d stepped up to the two. “It would be nice if you two came to some sort of understanding and stopped all this infernal yelling back and forth.”

“I know, I know,” Harry said wearily and held out his arms for Erin. Hermione looked from the crying little girl to him and hesitantly passed her over. Almost immediately, Erin quieted and soon resumed a peaceful sleep in her father’s arms. Harry cooed quietly to his daughter and set her in the crib only to hear a sniffle come from behind him. “Hermione?”

“I’m a terrible mother,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Look how she acts around me…”

“You are not a terrible mother,” Harry said, trying to reassure her.

“Of course I am!” she sobbed. “I can’t quiet her down like you can... she barely touches my milk, only when she’s really hungry… It feels like I’m doing this all alone and you come in and everything’s fine with her! What am I doing wrong?”

Harry caught her in a hug as she began to cry harder but she pushed away.

“Hugging me won’t help,” she said angrily as the tears in her eyes finally streaked down her cheeks. “Erin just doesn’t love me…”

“Of course she loves you, you’re her mum,” Harry said quietly.

“She doesn’t,” Hermione sobbed. “No matter how hard I try, Harry, she just refuses me!”

Harry guided her to her bed and sat her down. “It’s probably because you’re so exhausted,” he said as he rubbed her shoulder. “The first month, everything was fine—”

“But then she started pushing me away!” Hermione interrupted. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t feed Erin… She knows I’m not her real mum!”

“Don’t say that,” Harry said, squeezing her shoulder for emphasis. “You carried her and gave birth to her. Don’t doubt that you’re her mother. I think she picks up on that…”

“What am I going to do, Harry?” Hermione sobbed, finally allowing him to hold her. “I love her so much but she doesn’t seem to love me in return… What can I do?”

Harry held her quietly, rubbing her back as Hermione let out her frustration through her tears. After a few minutes, she calmed to hiccups and sat back. He offered her a handkerchief, which she took, and smiled softly at her.

“You’re her mother, don’t forget that, don’t doubt that,” he said encouragingly as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re a wonderful mother and you’ll continue to be.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she whispered hoarsely, fresh tears pooling in her eyes again.

“Shh,” Harry said quietly and wiped the new tears away. “Get some sleep, you’ll feel better afterwards.” Harry guided her back into bed and tucked her in, the blankets snug about her chin and shoulders.

Hermione smiled wanly.

“Don’t worry, get some rest, OK? You’re doing wonderfully. If only all mothers loved their children as much as you do.” He kissed her forehead and smiled. “Everything will turn around, now rest.”

She nodded sleepily and before Harry could move away, she reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry I’ve brought so much pain back to you.”

“Nonsense,” he admonished with a slight grin.

“I meant about Tonks,” Hermione corrected him, knowing that he was thinking about her current state of mind and flip-floppy emotions. “You’re having a hard time moving forward with her here. I should have left well enough alone.”

Harry smiled again. “I’ll manage,” he said then squeezed her hand. “And you haven’t brought me any pain. You brought me Erin and came back into my life, that makes me happy and it’s all I need…” Harry brushed a stray hair off Hermione’s face and kissed the revealed forehead tenderly. “Now get some sleep, Mum, we don’t have much time until the new first day of Christmas begins.”

“Can you… can you stay until I fall asleep?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Sure,” Harry said with a smile. Hermione moved a bit so Harry could lie next to her and he wrapped his arm around her protectively. “I can stay until then,” he said with a sleepy yawn.

She yawned in response and before either of them knew it, Molly was gently shaking them awake. “It’s time for Erin’s first day of Christmas,” she whispered as Harry and Hermione both stretched.

“What time is it?” Hermione asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“You’ve been sleeping for six hours,” Molly said with a grin. “It’s just past eight.”

Hermione’s eyes shot open wide at the news. “Where’s Erin? I didn’t hear her crying!”

“She’s sound asleep, dear,” Molly said with a smile. “It seems all three of you were quite tired.”

Hermione sighed in relief and looked at Harry who was smiling sleepily. “What?”

“This is the longest I’ve slept in the past four months,” Harry said with a yawn. “I feel bloody fantastic!”

Hermione smirked at the realization and soon she and Harry were going their separate ways to freshen up.

“Where’ve you been?” Tonks asked quietly from her perch on the wall. “I waited and waited but you never came back.”

“I had a talk with Hermione,” Harry said as he shoved his shirt into the hamper and pulled on a fresh one he’d found in the full laundry basket at the end of his bed. “I fell asleep shortly after she did and Molly just woke me up.”

“It’s the first day of Christmas, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. “Do they still do that?”

“Yeah,” Harry said after he’d finally gotten his shirt buttoned up and tucked in. “Erin will get to put the star on the tree this year, you know, she’s the youngest and all.”

“Harry, I’m sorry about our fight earlier, is Erin OK?”

“Yeah, she was scared because of the yelling and Hermione couldn’t quiet her down,” Harry said after he was finished tidying himself up. He turned to Tonks with a serious look on his face. “After we get back, we’re going to have a long talk,” he promised. “We can’t keep fighting like cats and dogs all the time.”

Tonks nodded, a hurt look on her face. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I,” Harry said sincerely. “Let’s get down to the sitting room.”

Without saying anything further, Harry lifted her portrait from the wall and the two of them met up with Hermione and Erin in the hall.

“Hello, little one,” Tonks said with a loving smile on her face. Erin looked at the portrait with a newborn’s curiosity. Her head weaved back and forth slightly due to her underdeveloped muscles and a gummy grin broke across her face. Tonks laughed softly as they continued down to the sitting room.

“Can we start now?” Chris asked impatiently after everyone had been assembled.

Arthur smiled as only a patient grandfather can and cleared his throat. “Yule tidings are upon us once again,” he said with a bright smile on his face as he looked over his extended family. “And as the song implies, today marks the first day of Christmas!”

Harry grinned as he looked over those who were in attendance. Hagrid had his own space in the back of the room, his beetle-black eyes glistening with happiness for having been invited. Hermione’s mother and father were sitting with their youngest daughter, Diana closer to the tree. George and his fiancée, Katie Bell, were arm-in-arm by the kitchen. Fred and Angelina were similarly positioned on the other side of the doorway. Remus Lupin, who seemed older than ever, sat in a chair near the bottom of the stairs. He flashed Harry a smile and gave a small wave to Tonks. Ginny and Neville were sitting on the sofa with Chris standing impatiently between them. Bill and Fleur were sitting by the fire, their two-year-old daughter asleep in Fleur’s arms. Charlie was standing by the front door, still clad in his dragon skin jacket, his wife and children were visiting her family this year. Percy was absent, as usual, having sent a letter two days prior announcing he was not able to attend. And Molly was standing next to Arthur, holding his arm as if he needed her support, which he did, but not physically.

“…This year we celebrate another new first day of Christmas with Erin Potter!” Arthur said as Harry’s attention returned to the festive speech. “As is Weasley tradition, when we’re all home, everyone please select an ornament for this wonderful tree!”

Everyone in the room took turns choosing ornaments from a large box or produced their own ornaments from their robes. Hermione reached into her purse and pulled out an ornament in the shape of a rocking horse picture frame. A wizarding photo of Erin was set behind the glass, the first picture taken of her after she was born. And stamped into the rocking horse’s runner were words that read “Baby’s First Christmas.”

One by one each of those in attendance walked up to the tree and hung their ornament where they wished. Harry and Hermione each hung two, one for themselves, Erin, and Tonks, as did Molly who had hung an ornament for Percy every year despite his absence. Once they were finished, they all gathered around the tree and on Arthur’s cue sang, “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree.”

Gifts were opened next, oohs and ahhs floating through the air at one gift or another. Christopher seemed especially satisfied with his Quidditch board game and new stuffed animals while the adults were equally pleased with the gifts they’d each received.

Eggnog and appetizers were located at strategic places around the sitting room and kitchen, ready to be devoured before the first Christmas feast. As was tradition, every person who could eat had seconds (Hagrid had the equivalent of fourths due to his size) and they all broke into small groups to catch up on everything that’d happened throughout the year.

Though he enjoyed himself and had plenty of time with Erin, the night did not pass quickly enough for Harry. He was anxious to talk to Tonks and when the time came, she wasn’t happy.

“What do you mean you want me to stay in the sitting room?!” she asked incredulously.

“I need a place where I can rest and when we’re in the same room lately, we do nothing but argue,” Harry replied. “Erin’s slept the longest she’s ever slept since she’s come home and so has Hermione and I.”

“Does this mean you want me out of your life then?” Tonks asked with hurt laced in her accusation and etched on her oil-based face.

“Love, when you died, you were ripped from my life,” Harry said awkwardly. “Now I’ve got you back and it’s nothing like what we had before. I understand it’s difficult since you’re not physically here and I understand it’s frustrating. But all this arguing is stressing me to the point of sleeplessness. Because we argue, Erin isn’t sleeping, and because Erin isn’t sleeping, neither is Hermione.” He took a deep breath and looked Tonks in the eyes. “I think it’s best if we take a break from these close quarters and get some rest from one another, we both need it.”

“Take a break?” Tonks asked quietly. “A-are you breaking up with me?”

Harry buried his face in his hands and shook his head in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation,” he grumbled in irritation. “I’ll always love you, Tonks, always! But I need to be healthy for Erin’s sake! I need to rest and I can’t do that right now!”

“But I don’t want to leave you!” Tonks protested.

Harry sighed. He thought ghosts had a difficult time letting go of their pasts, but he did know where she was coming from. It was ripping him up inside to even suggest parting again, but the constant fighting was even worse. He wanted the loving woman he fell in love with, but, he guessed a portrait wasn’t the same as the original person. “OK,” he said, resigning. “I’m not going to move you to the sitting room, but I need some space so I’m going to sleep downstairs.”

“Harry,” Tonks protested. “Don’t go to sleep angry…”

“I’m not angry,” he said, “just tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Without another word, he collected his pillow and blanket and left the room. He could hear Tonks’ quiet sobbing from the hall and his heart broke once again. As he passed Hermione’s and Erin’s room, he heard his daughter cry out. On instinct, he opened the door and scooped her into his arms before she got to wailing and Erin immediately calmed back to sleep. He glanced over at Hermione, thankful that he was fast enough to keep Erin from waking her, and decided to sit in the rocking chair next to the crib.

Without thinking, he began rocking, stroking Erin’s already reddening hair, and began to sing. “Toora loora loora… Toora loora li… Toora loora loora… Hush, now don’t ye cry…”

He didn’t notice the additional audience member nor that she was caught between smiling and crying herself. He didn’t notice the silent tears as they crept down his cheeks, and started when Hermione wiped them clean.

“Don’t stop singing,” she whispered, smiling at him and running her thumb over his still-wet cheek. She slid her hand down his arm and took his free one as he resumed the lullaby.

“Over in Killarney, many years ago… My mother sang this song to me in tones so sweet and low… Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way… And I’d give the world if she could sing that song to me today…”

Hermione stifled a sob at the expression on Harry’s face, her hand jetting to cover her mouth at the mixture of love and loss mixed in his expression. He finished the song and gently laid Erin in her crib after kissing her gently on the top of her head.

“Goodnight my Sweets, my Erin,” he said softly, stroking her back gently. Harry turned to Hermione who was smiling at him, a smile he hadn’t seen before. “Sorry I woke you,” he whispered.

“Harry,” Hermione sobbed and hugged him to her as tightly as she could. “I’m sorry. I wish your mum were still alive…”

“I do to, Hermione,” Harry said, returning the hug and letting himself sink into the embrace.

“Did you and Tonks fight again?” she asked after a few shaky breaths.

Harry nodded, not wanting to let go, but with tremendous effort did so. “I told her I needed space and to do that we couldn’t be in the same room so often. She didn’t take it too well.”

Hermione sniffled and sat on her bed. “I understand why,” she said quietly. “Maybe I put too much of her essence into the portrait.”

“No, it’s not what you did,” Harry said as he sat next to her. “It’s the situation. I can’t do as she asks of me in my dreams if I wake up and she’s actually there… well, not actually there.”

Hermione nodded.

“Today was the first time I’ve slept outside of the room she was in and it was the first time I’ve really gotten any rest in the past few months,” he admitted much to himself as to Hermione.

“Come on,” Hermione said quietly, “have a lie down here. I’m awake, now it’s time for you to get some rest.”

“I can’t,” Harry protested weakly. “You need your sleep as well.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she guided him into a lying position on his side. “You need your rest, I’ll be right here.”

Harry yawned and his protests disappeared into mumbles. He felt Hermione’s arm slide over his side and before he knew it, he was asleep.

* * * * *

At ten the next morning, Harry woke with a start. He was disoriented for a moment before the memories of the previous night flooded back to him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Hermione’s sleeping face nuzzled against his back and her arm was still in place, protectively holding him to her. There was movement in Erin’s crib, but she wasn’t crying. It seemed as if she was finally interested in the Muggle mobile that Hermione’s parents had given them for Erin’s baby shower.

With a sharp intake of air, Hermione opened her eyes and immediately squinted against the light. “What time is it?” she asked in a groggy, husky voice slick with sleep.

“Ten in the morning, Dear,” Molly said from the doorway. They heard Erin giggle at the sight of her unofficial grandmother and once again, Hermione quickly shot across the room to check on Erin.

“Oooh, I’m so sorry, Love,” she cooed to Erin who smiled up happily from the crib. Hermione immediately gathered her in her arms and sat in the rocking chair. She gasped when Erin immediately began suckling and she looked to Harry in surprise.

Harry kept any smart remarks to himself and instead smiled brightly at her in return. He felt better than he had in nearly a year and he noticed that Hermione seemed to be more aware; even the color had returned to her cheeks. Both of the new parents had looked pallid and drained due to lack of sleep but she looked as healthy as she ever had before.

“I can’t believe it,” Hermione said, still stunned. “You’re eating, baby girl…”

Erin’s continued suckling was her response and Hermione began to tear up.

“You have such a wonderful mum, don’t you, Sweets?” Harry said as he bent over and kissed Erin’s head. Suddenly realizing what was going on, he blushed furiously and, embarrassed, excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Surprised that the water wasn’t ice cold, but didn’t take the good fortune for granted, Harry let himself soak under the cascade of hot water and groaned as the beads of warmth pelted his back. He dreaded going to his room for a change of clothes and toyed with the idea of wearing what he had on when he woke up. But, Molly frowned upon those who walked around the house in their pajamas all day so he steeled himself for the onslaught he was sure to receive from Tonks.

Harry crept into his room only to find that her portrait was empty. He didn’t know where she went when not in frame, so he again didn’t take the situation for granted and got dressed as quickly as he could. When he returned to the hall, Hermione handed his now-full daughter to him while she took her morning shower and the three of them headed downstairs.

George and Fred were the first to try and hide their smiles, followed quickly by Neville. Ginny smiled broadly at the two as did Molly and Arthur.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked as he sat down to a steaming plate of eggs and sausage. Hermione looked pointedly at Ginny as a plate of eggs and bacon was set before her.

“Nothing,” Ginny said dismissively with a wave of her hand. “We’re just happy that you three finally got some sleep.”

Harry blushed profusely and looked to Hermione who just shrugged. “Nothing happened. We were simply tired and fell asleep.” She busied herself with her plate and refused to look Harry in the eye.

Harry glanced to Molly, who was humming happily as she worked on the morning dishes, then to Arthur.

“Oh, look,” the elder Weasley said from behind his freshly opened paper. “It seems Puddlemere won the match against the Cannons last night…”

“Big surprise, that,” George said.

“They’ve not won against Puddlemere since the team was formed,” Fred said.

“Nor the Harpies,” Angelina and Katie chimed in unison before looking at each other and bursting into giggles.

“Strange, those two,” Neville whispered as he refilled his glass with orange juice. “Ever since George and Katie got engaged, those two have taken on some of the twins’ eccentricities.”

Harry shook his head, bewildered with what was in the air. Sure, he and Hermione had slept in the same bed, but that didn’t mean anything. Did it? He glanced at Hermione and caught her before she could hide a shy smile behind a piece of bacon. A flash from the day Erin was born clouded his senses and he recalled how soft Hermione’s lips were when he’d kissed her that day. True, he’d surprised her, but it felt right for him to do so.

It felt right for him to kiss her last night as well and the glint in her eyes when she glanced at him unlocked what he thought was a dream. He remembered when he’d laid down and she draped her arm over him. He’d fallen asleep shortly thereafter but sometime in the middle of the night, he’d turned over and returned her hug. That had brought both of them out of their slumber enough to engage in one of the fieriest kisses he’d ever engaged in. His face went red just remembering what had happened and noticed Hermione’s cheeks mirrored his.

“I’ll be right back,” he said then hurriedly deposited his full plate in the sink, grabbed his cloak, and headed outside. Hagrid’s massive footprints remained in the snow, the trail heading into a copse of trees that lead down past the pond. Harry, however, didn’t really notice. His head was spinning at the implications of what happened. Had anyone seen? Was Hermione as confused as he was?

Half-way to the Quidditch pitch, he stopped dead in his tracks. “I didn’t dream about Tonks last night…” he said in bewilderment. Was it because he was awake and kissing Hermione? “No, no,” he mumbled, continuing absently to the pitch. He dreamed of her constantly, even if he was asleep for only a few minutes. “I didn’t dream of her the other day when we napped together,” he said with stark realization.

Harry didn’t notice the snow crunching behind him, a hurried step from someone much lighter than himself. He literally jumped when Hermione set her hand on his shoulder.

“Harry?” she asked in concern as he turned toward her with a panicked look in his eyes.

“Hermione,” he panted, though he hadn’t been running, “you scared the hell out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I just… I wanted to let you know that we didn’t do anything other than kiss last night,” she said shyly.

He couldn’t remember if he’d initiated the kiss, if she had, or if it happened mutually and simultaneously. He looked into her eyes and saw a glimmer of hope and a bit of shame on her face. “Are you OK?” he asked with worry set in his features. “I didn’t force you into it, did I?”

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “I didn’t feel forced at all, actually.”

“Good,” Harry said, numbly going through the scenarios in his mind. Was he going to lose her again for him being forward? He didn’t want to lose her, she was too important to him. Realization dawned on him. He looked into her eyes again.

“Are you OK, Harry?” she asked as her teeth chattered. He realized that she wasn’t wearing a coat so he immediately threw his cloak over her shoulders.

“Yeah,” he said as she snuggled against him for warmth. “I think I finally am…”

They spent a few more minutes outside, enjoying their shared warmth and the silence that had settled over the two of them. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the least, at least that’s what Harry thought, and the more time they spent huddled under his cloak, the more content he became.

Without thinking, he brought his hand up to her chin and with a simple tilt of his wrist, Hermione was looking at him.

“Harry?” she asked. Her eyes went wide and she breathed sharply through her nose. For Harry leaned in and gently kissed her, fully on the lips, without hesitation. She squeaked in surprise at first but seemed to melt against him as she caught up and returned the kiss. Her arms snaked around his shoulders and his around her waist in a vain attempt to keep her from losing the strength in her legs and collapsing on the spot. As it happened, Harry’s knees gave out instead and the two found themselves lying in the snow, laughing like school children.

“My lips are that powerful?” she asked playfully as she turned in his arms to get a better look at his face. Her smile was warm and inviting, causing Harry to kiss her again.

“Very,” he said softly after they parted for the second time.

“Are you OK with this?” Hermione asked, motioning between the two of them with her hand. “With me?”

Harry smiled softly at the woman who was lying in his arms as memories flashed before his eyes. He remembered the kiss she’d given him on the cheek after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the multitudes of hugs she’d given him since the first fateful night he faced Quirrell, and how he felt when he was about to his feelings before Ron had stepped in.

He remembered Tonks, and his smile faded. He remembered how much he loved her and how much it hurt to lose her then fear gripped his heart as he looked up at Hermione. She shook her head and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart.

“You won’t lose me,” she whispered. “I know I’m not Tonks, that I can never replace her—”

“No,” he said, wondering how she knew what he was thinking… every time. “You’re not Tonks,” he said quietly. “I loved her, I always will, but I love you too.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “You love me?”

“I always have,” he admitted. “You remember when I told you how I felt, before you left Ron?” Hermione nodded. “I still loved you, even then, even now.” He looked at her, hoping that what he’d seen in her eyes was what he thought he’d seen.

“I think I’m falling in love with you as well,” she said softly, a wide smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I was afraid that I’d never get this chance either.”

She shivered involuntarily and Harry chuckled. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warmer. You’d think that two of the most powerful wizards on the planet would remember their wands when they left the house…”

Hermione laughed, “or at least remembered to cast a warming charm before they left.”

Harry grinned and helped her to her feet. They brushed off the snow and started back to the Burrow.

“I wonder how Tonks is going to take this,” she said, a worried look on her face.

“Not well,” Harry admitted. “And I think it’s time I put her into storage.”

“What?!” Hermione asked, bewildered. “Harry, you can’t!”

“I have to,” he said, a look of resolution on his face. “I need to move on, Hermione, I can’t if she’s still there.”

“She’s going to be devastated,” Hermione said, her eyes on the path in front of her.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “It won’t be easy for either of us.”

They continued down the path and through the garden. Harry looked up in time to see Ginny duck out of the window and he shook his head.

“I guess what just happened won’t remain a secret for long.” He looked down when he realized that they were holding hands. He didn’t remember when that had happened, but there they were: hand-in-hand, and despite what was coming, he felt the smile on his face.

* * * * *

The argument with Tonks seemed to last hours. This time, it wasn’t Harry who was taking the full brunt of the argument, but Hermione shared in it as well. Downstairs, they could hear Erin crying, her lungs were strong. But both of them suppressed their urges to bolt from the room and comfort their daughter.

“I WILL NOT GO INTO STORAGE!” Tonks bellowed for the hundredth time.

“You have to,” Harry said. He’d not raised his voice once throughout the entire ordeal and it was plain to anyone who saw him that he was holding the tears back. “You know I need to move on, Tonks, I need to live. I can’t like this, you know that.”

“But you don’t have to put me in storage, Love,” Tonks pleaded. “I can sit in an unused room in the house!”

Hermione’s heart was breaking at the scene and it was taking every ounce of willpower she had to keep from bursting into tears as well. She looked to Harry and her heart fell even lower, the look of hurt in his eyes a dagger in her heart. But she didn’t leave, she was there for him to offer her strength when his failed, to protect him when he could no longer protect himself.

“No… Harry, my love… no,” Tonks wailed as he draped a tarp over her portrait. “Don’t do this… please!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, the words catching in his throat even as he said them. “I’ll always love you, but I have to move on.”

Tonks sobbed uncontrollably from behind the sheet. “Please, please don’t do this! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Love… Please.”

Hermione caught Harry about the shoulders—he was shaking so hard from his grief—as he lifted his wand and performed the charm to shrink the tarp around the frame. Tonks’ wails permeated the room and Harry’s sobs joined in with the anguish. Hermione was shaking as well, crying silently alongside her best friends.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered again as strings fastened themselves in place, holding the now-shrunk tarp firmly to the frame. Tonks’ desperate pleas for forgiveness and declarations of love were not stifled by the thick fabric. Harry couldn’t contain his grief any longer and with a swish of his wand, a silencing charm ended her protests.

Harry knew it was going to be difficult. He knew that Tonks would be devastated. He knew that there was the very real possibility that he’d go through the same thing he did when she’d died. This time, however, he was able to say something.

“Goodbye, Love,” he whispered to the silent portrait. Then, his strength left him and he collapsed into Hermione’s arms, sobbing like he’d never done before. She rocked him as she’d done in the hospital nearly a year ago, whispering words of encouragement, and this time, of love.

The second day of Christmas wasn’t as cheerful as the first. The family sang after the ornaments were hung with care. Boxes were sent to Harry’s room where Ginny, Fred, and George packed all of the photographs of Tonks and sent them to the attic. They’d later be transferred to Hogwarts where the rest of Harry’s belongings as Professor Baker had also gone into storage.

The third day of Christmas was better than the previous day and each day became more and more cheerful as Hermione helped mend Harry’s heart. The three of them rested more and more each day, finally achieving a normal sleeping pattern after the eleventh day. On the twelfth day of Christmas, a huge feast was prepared. Everyone was in high spirits and the full song of the Twelve Days of Christmas commenced with the topping of the tree. Hagrid assisted Erin in her attempt to place the star. The infant stared in awe at the glittery silver star that was held in front of her. With laughter and rejoice, Hagrid placed the star atop the tree for her and everyone cheered.

The festivities went late, well past the newly established bedtime that Harry, Hermione, and Erin currently enjoyed. The clock tolled twelve and Harry suddenly looked to Hermione.

“What is it?” she asked with a smile.

“It’s January sixth,” he said with a glint of enlightenment in his eyes.

“Yes it is,” Hermione said, snorting a laugh for she knew what was coming next.

“I just had an epiphany,” Harry declared with a smirk, knowing full well she had known what he was going to say.

“And what is this epiphany your daddy is talking about?” Hermione asked Erin, who smiled her gummy smile and burbled as if attempting to answer the question.

Harry leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Erin was worried about us.”

“What?” Hermione asked, taken aback by the proclamation.

Harry grinned. “She would cry whenever either of us was upset,” he explained. “When I was arguing with Tonks, when you were depressed or the two of us weren’t in the same room.”

Hermione smiled. “She’s a smart girl.”

“She takes after her mum,” Harry said, turning Hermione’s face to his. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too,” Hermione whispered before they kissed each other.

“Hey! The mistletoe’s over there!” George shouted from across the room.

“Or over there,” Fred shouted pointing to another sprig that was in a doorway.

Harry and Hermione laughed, looked at each other, then both kissed Erin on each of her cheeks.

“And we both love you,” they said in unison.

* * * * *

“And that’s the story of your first Christmas,” Hermione said with a smile as Erin wiped the tears from her eyes.

“It was wonderful and sad at the same time,” Harry said. He reached over and caught a tear Erin had missed then smiled when she caught his hand.

“I’m glad you told me about this,” she said with a smile. “And I’m sorry you three had to go through all of that.”

“I was upset and angry at the time, and damn near homicidal when he finally brought me out of storage,” Tonks said from her spot on the wall. “But I guess it had to be done.”

“I don’t want to go through that again,” Harry said with a smile to Tonks.

“MUMMY! DADDY! SANTA’S BEEN HERE!” Catherine squealed from the sitting room.

“OH MY GOSH! I GOT A BROOM!” Eileen squealed equally as loud.

“Looks like we’re done reminiscing for the night…” Hermione deadpanned.

“Come on, you three,” Harry said, getting to his feet, taking Tonks from the wall and catching his eldest daughter’s hand. “We have another twelve days of Christmas to celebrate!”

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS! I know, I know, I’ve been quiet for a LOOOOOONG time! But I hope this proves that I’m still alive and writing! I had no beta help on this, nor any proofing so please, PLEASE forgive any errors :) I wanted to get this out to you as soon as possible and spent the entire night writing this. Consider it a semi-sequel/prequel to The Ties That Bind, though, I think I’ve answered a lot of questions that the other story left open :) Hope this is enough H/Hr for you for awhile, until I can write more in my other stories! Again: MERRY CHRISTMAS! UPDATE: OK! I’ve done some fixing up of this and I declare it readable! Really ;) Off to bed for me!