Harry's Boring Bookworm

Disclaimer: I do not own anything ‘Harry Potter,’ and I don’t make a dime off of it. I write for nothing but enjoyment.

A/N: This story is not for Ginny lovers, so be warned.

Chapter 1:

It was another quiet night in the Emergency Admissions area at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Hermione liked quiet nights. It gave her a chance to catch up on her reading. She hadn’t really fallen behind in her studies… after all, when she wasn’t at the hospital, she was at home. Home in her tiny one room flat… alone… reading.

All her friends said she has a boring life. Hermione didn’t mind having a boring life. Boring was a refreshing change from what her life was like only two years prior. ‘Boring’ didn’t describe her six years at Hogwarts, ‘Boring’ certainly didn’t describe the three and a half years that they searched for Voldemort’s Horcruxes, and nobody in their proper state of mind could call the last battle where Harry finally finished Voldemort ‘Boring.’

In fact, her life had been anything but boring before two years ago, not since she was eleven years old when she had first met ‘The Boy Who Lived.’ She smiled inwardly as she recalled her first train ride to school. She had tried not to show her excitement when she first saw him sitting in that compartment with Ron, but her nervousness at actually meeting the famous Harry Potter crept through her façade and she ended up babbling on and on about…

“Books.” She said aloud, snapping the book she was currently reading closed. The things that gave her comfort and confidence while growing up as a child, were also the things now making her life, as Ron so thoughtfully put it, ‘dreadfully, tearfully boring.’

Her thoughts returned to that first meeting. She remembered that ‘spell’ that Ron had tried on his rat, the rat that caused a lifetime’s worth of pain in a small boy’s life. Of course, the ‘spell’ didn’t work. She knew it as soon as he started that silly incantation. She wanted so desperately for Harry to ask her to do more ‘real’ magic for him. She had told him that she had tried spells that ‘did’ work, and even repaired his broken glasses for him, but after struggling to stop herself from babbling about books a minute before, she was not about to risk offending them by trying to show off too much. She had the impression that the boys were getting rather annoyed with her as it was. No, as she thought about it, only one of the boys appeared to be annoyed with her… the redhead, Ron.

Maybe if she wasn’t so boring her life would have turned out differently. Maybe, if she didn’t always have her nose stuck in a book she’d have time to get involved in a relationship with someone. Maybe if she were a little prettier, a little more exciting, a little more like Ginny… then just maybe things would have turned…

She was snapped from her daydreaming by a familiar voice at the door. “Hello Hermione, I think I need your help… again.”

Her best friend, Harry Potter, was leaning against the doorjamb, looking flushed and sweaty.

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed sympathetically, “what did she do now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he answered, “we were in the middle of another of our arguments when she snapped again. She packed a bag of her stuff and headed for the door.”

“Again?” sighed Hermione.

“Yeah, but this time, I told her if she walked out the door, she shouldn’t bother coming back. I turned around to head back upstairs, and she muttered some kind of curse behind my back and stormed out. I felt ok at the time, I thought she missed me, but then I started feeling… I dunno… panicky, I can’t describe it. Then I started feeling sick, so I figured I’d better come to see you. You always know what to do.”

Hermione smiled inwardly at his last comment. She was glad, that after all these years, he could still depend on her, and he still trusted her. She had already drawn her wand out and was waving it in intricate patterns around Harry’s head, neck and upper torso while asking, “Hit you while your back was turned? Typical… Well, I’m sure she’ll be back. She always comes back.” Then Hermione thought to herself, ‘Of course, she’ll go back, the little princess couldn’t survive without Harry’s money.’

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “I suppose, but she was really furious this time. I’ve never managed to get her quite this angry before.”

“What was the argument about this time?” asked Hermione while continuing to examine him.

“The usual…” Harry answered.

“The ‘starting a family’ one…” Hermione already knew what the ‘usual’ argument was. She had heard both sides of the story on too many different occasions. Harry, of course, had always wanted a family to call his own, while Ginny, who had promised Harry children before they were married, had changed her tune completely after the wedding. She didn’t want the fuss, the responsibility, the pain, or the stretch marks. She liked her fun and freedom, the fun and freedom that Harry was paying for. Yes, all Ginny wanted was the money, fame and power that came with being Harry Potter’s wife. She got the huge house that she wanted, the throng of servants and house elves that she wanted, the expensive designer robes, the extravagant parties, and all the friends and lovers that Harry’s money could buy, everything that she wanted.

Hermione never had the heart to tell Harry about the ‘lovers’ part.

All Harry had asked for in return was a family of his own. All he wanted was a woman to love and to love him in return. All he wanted was a horde of little Potters running around, causing mischief, and being loved by a father who was never loved as a child himself.

Hermione would love nothing more than to trade places with Ginny. Not for the houses, servants or parties, but for the love, for the family that Harry had always wanted, the family that Hermione would sacrifice everything she had to be a part of.

“Hmmm, I can’t seem to find anything wrong. Do you remember what the incantation was?”

Harry thought for a moment, “She muttered it so softly that I barely heard it, it could have been something like ‘surrilis’ or ‘serritus,’ I didn’t recognize it, and as I said, I barely heard…”

Hermione’s face darkened, “Was it ‘Scectillious’?”

“It could have been, I’m not completely sure, but it sounds close.” Said Harry, while he watched Hermione make odd wand movements over his lower abdomen.

She stopped the movements and whispered, “Oh, my! Oh no!” A look of horror washed over Hermione’s face, “She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t dare!” Harry! How long ago did this happen?”

Harry was taken aback by the seriousness of her voice. He checked his watch and said, “It couldn’t have been more than an hour ago…”

Hermione grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him from the room, “Hurry! Maybe we’re not too late!” She dashed down the hall towards the hospital’s potions lab, with Harry following a few steps behind.

She burst through the door and announced to the three people who were working there, “Get out! Now!”

They were about to voice their objection to being ordered about by a junior healer when they noticed who had stepped into the room behind her. They quickly gathered their projects and fled the lab.

Hermione wasted no time in setting up the equipment. She frantically raced from her cauldron to retrieve the various components from the many shelves and cabinets around the room.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” asked Harry, who was starting to worry as he saw the desperation growing on her face. “What did she do to me?”

She brushed a stray curl that had escaped her bun away from her sweaty face as she worked. “The Scectillious charm is used when… It’s a charm that…”

Harry at first thought it was the sweat of concentration running down her face, until he realized that she was crying.

Hermione’s voice was cracking as she spoke, “How could she! That selfish little… That evil woman!” She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and squeaked, “I never would have thought she’d stoop so low!”

Harry’s face turned ash white when he realized what Ginny might have done to him, “Hermione, what is this Scectillious charm?”

Hermione’s shoulders dropped and she spoke in barely a whisper, “It’s a contraception charm. It’s a charm men use when they’ve had enough children.” She then burst out sobbing, “Harry, it’s meant to be permanent! Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry!”

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. He reached out his hand and steadied himself on a nearby desk. He didn’t say anything, but Hermione could see the devastated look on his face.

This look made her cry even harder. “I can’t believe she’d risk Azkaban over her petty selfishness!”

“Azkaban? What do you mean?”

Hermione added the last few ingredients to the cauldron and cast another heating charm under it. “It’s illegal for a woman to use that spell. Only the man is supposed to make the decision to sterilize himself. The same goes for the Sancticillious charm for women. It’s a trip to Azkaban for men to cast that one.”

“WHAT???” Yelled Harry, “What did you just say!?”

Hermione looked up from the cauldron and saw the fury behind Harry’s eyes, “I said the Sancticillious charm is only to be used by the woman herself. It’s the permanent sterility charm for women, just like Scectillious is for men.” Upon seeing the flare of fury in his eyes replaced by a look of total despair, she looked back down and concentrated on the potion.

Harry sat on the desk that had been supporting him and buried his face in his hands.

Hermione continued brewing the potion in silence, not looking up from the cauldron that she was feverishly stirring.

“She said it was temporary.” Harry whispered, “She said it was reversible. She used that spell on our wedding night.”

Hermione stopped stirring, hung her head and placed her hands on the table, trying to support the weight that her legs didn’t seem capable of at the moment. She took a deep breath, and then stood up straight. “It’s ready, Harry.” She said as she poured the contents of the cauldron into a goblet. “You can’t drink it here, come on.”

Hermione stepped to the door and waited for Harry to follow. She sadly watched as he wiped his eyes and stood unsteadily.

They walked to a nearby room and Hermione hastily conjured a bed for him. After helping Harry get undressed and into a comfortable position on the bed, she closed and locked the door, then cast a series of silencing charms around the room. She then started tying his hands and legs to the corners of the bed.

When she noticed Harry looking at her questioningly, she told him, “Harry… The potion will have some strange effects on you, and it is only half of the treatment. I also have to cast a counter-charm on your… on you.” She blushed briefly, then sighed and gave him an apologetic look. “Harry, this is going to be very, very painful, and there is no guarantee it will work.” She dropped her gaze to the floor and nervously bit on her lower lip, “I’m so sorry, Harry. I wish there was another way.”

Harry just sullenly nodded.

“When you’re ready, drink the potion, then I’ll start the counter-charm.”

Harry downed the contents of the goblet, took a deep breath and laid back into the pillow.

After restraining his remaining hand, Hermione studied her watch, counting the seconds, “Ok, Harry, get ready… Oh, I’m so sorry!”

Hermione pointed her wand at Harry’s groin and cried, “Lashissorcia!’ An opaque, pink beam of light flashed from her wand and connected with Harry.

Harry had thought the Cruciatus was bad, but the pain that now shot from his groin up through his chest made that curse seem like a tickling charm.

Harry was thrashing violently on the bed. Through his own blurred vision, he saw that her hands were trembling as she tried to hold the beam from her wand steady on him. He could barely make out Hermione’s face. Her eyes were closed, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and he could see her mouth moving, but could only hear his own screaming.

Suddenly, a cloud blanketed his thoughts as the potion was apparently taking effect. He could hear voices in his head, some whispering distantly, some softly spoke random phrases that drifted in and out, but there was one voice that he could clearly hear, the cry of Hermione’s voice echoing in the back of his mind saying, ‘Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I’m so, so sorry! I don’t like doing this! I hate hurting you! I love you so much, please forgive me! Oh, please don’t hate me for doing this to you! I love you…’

That was the last he ‘heard’ before the blackness of unconsciousness enveloped him.

After untying Harry’s hands and legs, Hermione collapsed into a chair that she had conjured next to his bed. She was exhausted. Harry had passed out from the pain five minutes into the treatment, a blessing for him, she thought.

She rubbed her red, swollen eyes and stared vacantly at a random spot on the wall. She silently prayed that the treatment worked. She knew that a counter-charm had to be performed within two hours of the original charm for there to be any chance of a successful reversal. He said it was about an hour before he arrived at the hospital, and it took her about forty minutes to make the potion. She sincerely hoped they made it in time.

“But what did it matter?” she thought, “If Ginny really did sterilize herself, Harry’s chances at a family of his own was gone anyway. She didn’t have to do it to him, too. Was it out of spite? Was it the fear of him having a child with someone else? Having a heir to take her money if Harry should die?”

Hermione didn’t notice the frown that appeared on Harry’s face.

Harry would never cheat on Ginny, Hermione was sure of that. Ginny, of course, didn’t have those silly morals to get in her way. She had heard all about those ‘parties’ that Ginny threw at their beach house while Harry was away. Being an auror often had him spending days away from his home, so there were beach house parties often thrown.

The frown on Harry’s face deepened, and still went unnoticed.

Of course, with him being an auror, wouldn’t you think he’d notice what was happening under his own nose? Hermione supposed not… since the war, Harry was much too trusting of the people close to him for his own good. He got used to trusting the people close to him. He had to trust his friends. He would have never survived the war if he didn’t.

“Harry deserves better than that,” thought Hermione bitterly, as she sat with a frown, “It’s really not fair to him.”

She thought about how, just a few hours before, she wondered how her life would have turned out if she were more like Ginny. The thought of that now was turning her stomach.

Still, she wished that she could do it all over again. She would have done so many things differently. She would have tried harder to be more pleasant around him, paid more attention to him. She would have believed him and helped him more in their last year at Hogwarts. She certainly would have worked up the courage to tell him exactly how she felt about him so many years ago, how she still feels about him. Now, regretfully, it was too late… much too late.

The frown disappeared from Harry’s face.

She felt her heart breaking inside as tears welled up into her eyes. Her heart was breaking for Harry’s sham of a marriage, it was breaking because he would never have the family that he wanted more than anything in the world, it was breaking for all the lies and deception that Harry had to take from the people that were supposed to love him.

Her heart was breaking because she felt it was all her fault.

Maybe, if she had made more of an effort not to be so bloody boring, he would have noticed her as something more than his best friend, his favorite little bookworm… Maybe if she told him long ago that she loved him more than life itself, none of this misery would have fell on his shoulders, or maybe having Harry being in love with her was just never meant to be, even if she wasn’t so boring.

“I guess I’ll have to be content to remain Harry’s favorite little boring bookworm.” She thought sadly as she brushed the unshed tears from her eyes.

She looked over to Harry and was surprised to see a smile on his face.

“My ‘favorite little boring bookworm?’” mumbled Harry, “I like the sound of that.”

Hermione stared at him with a shocked expression, “How did you…”

“Do you know what the effects of that potion you gave me are?” asked Harry, wincing as he sat up in the bed. The pain in his abdomen was still very much there.

“Well,” she said warily, “tissue regeneration that’s centered on your, umm, groin area,” her face blushed a pleasant pink, “that’s the primary effect. The secondary effect is an anesthetic, quite a strong one, at that. There are other side effects that vary from person to person, but it’s impossible to tell what they would be, and I’ve never heard of any that are particularly dangerous. But why…?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as the realization hit her. She closed her eyes and thought, “You can read my mind?” It was more a tentative statement than a question.

A moment of silence passed. She was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when she heard Harry say, “Yes, I can.”

A squeak escaped her throat as she covered her mouth with her hands, “Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry Harry… When did you…? How much did you hear?” Her eyes widened again in horror as she recalled what she had been thinking while Harry laid there, “Oh my... Oh, no!”

Hermione jumped up from the chair and dashed to the door. She struggled with the doorknob for a few seconds before remembering the locking charms she had placed on it. She reached for her wand, but her arms were caught in Harry’s hands. She shrieked in embarrassment as she struggled against his grip, then admitting defeat, she spun around and collapsed into Harry’s chest and started sobbing.

Thoughts started racing through her mind, “Oh no, he’s going to hate me! He’s not supposed to find out that I love him… Ack! He can hear this! Oh no! Bloody Hell, he’s only in his boxers!”

She squeaked loudly and started struggling again, but by then he had his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her to his chest while trying to calm her down.

“It’s ok, Hermione,” he whispered to her, “it’s not your fault. I’m the one who has made all the mistakes.”

She stopped struggling and listened, her wet face still buried in his chest.

“I heard enough to realize how wrong I’ve been, about a lot of things. You were right, I do know about Ginny and the ‘parties’ at the beach house, I knew all along. I knew all about the lies and deceit, and I knew why you couldn’t tell me. There’s only two new bits of information I got tonight, one was the fact that my ‘loving wife…’” those two words were spit from his mouth like venom, “was so selfish and conceited that she’s go so far as to forever deny me children just to preserve her sex appeal and her control of the money.”

“The other fact…” Harry paused, brought her tear-stained face away from his chest, and then looked into her eyes, “was the one that I should have seen years ago. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. You were right about so many things. I thought I knew love with Cho. Well, we both know how pathetically wrong I was there…”

Hermione nodded and gave him a small, knowing smile.

“Then there came Ginny. I thought I knew what love was then, too.” Harry laughed bitterly, “Hormones and lust... Endless days of snogging and shagging, that was love, right? I didn’t pull my face far enough away from hers to see who she really was, what she was really like. By the time I truly knew what love was, and who it was that I was truly in love with, I was stuck.”

Hermione’s smile faltered slightly as she wondered what he was getting at.

“I finally learned that loving someone means you can depend on them, no matter what happens, trust them with your very soul… To be truly in love with someone is when you know you’d die if they were removed from your life, and you’d gladly give your life to protect them and keep them safe. Yes, the second thing I learned tonight is the fact that I know now what I should have known so many years ago, because the feelings I have for you have never changed. Knowing now that you feel the same way about me as I do about you, I should have done something about it years ago, I should have done this years ago.”

Harry bent down and gently placed his lips onto hers.

As their lips met, Hermione’s eyes opened wide in momentary panic, and then slowly closed as she slid comfortably into his embrace and deepened the kiss.

Neither one knew how long the kiss lasted, their lips only separated when they ran out of breath. Hermione looked up into his eyes and said, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that to happen.”

“Oh, yes I do…” he answered while tapping his temple and giving her a knowing smile.

She buried her face back into his chest, “It’s not nice poking around in other people’s heads, Harry.”

“It’s not something I tried to do, but I’m not sorry at all that it happened. I think that potion is wearing off now, anyway, I’m not really getting clear thoughts anymore… I think it’s just emotions now.” He said and held her more tightly.

She smiled into his chest and said, I’m not sorry about it either, what I am sorry about is that I never had the courage to tell you sooner… I just thought you’d never look at ‘plain old, boring Herm…”

Harry cut her off, “You know as well as I do that looks aren’t everything, and I don’t know what you’re worried about, anyway. I’ve always thought you were beautiful, you know, I’ve told you that more than once… and another thing, I’ve never, ever thought you were boring.”

She sighed and pressed closer into his chest, but he gave a slight groan of pain when she did.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry! I forgot!” She backed away from him, took his arm and helped him back to the bed. “Here, lie down… You need to spend the night here, and I have duties to perform, I’m not through with my shift for another few hours, but I’ll be back to check on you. Please, try to get some sleep, we’ll talk more about things later.”

The rest of Hermione’s shift passed without incident, it was still a quiet night. She filed her report for the night, reluctantly noting the condition and treatment of her best friend.

She opened the door to Harry’s room and peeked in. She was surprised to see that he was still awake, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling with a strange look on his face that she couldn’t quite read.

“Harry?” she asked tentatively, “Haven’t you slept at all?”

“No, I haven’t,” said Harry, “I can’t sleep here. I’ve just been thinking...”

Hermione noticed that his unreadable expression hadn’t changed. She patiently waited a few moments for him to continue, but his silence prompted her to ask, “About…?”

“Thinking about what I’m going to do about Ginny,”

Harry’s expression did change at this point, to a frown with such sadness in it that reached straight into Hermione’s heart.

“I’m going home tonight,” Harry paused, and then continued slowly, “I’m going to give Ginny a chance…”

In that one, single second in time as those words hit her, her heart stopped and a flood… a seemingly impossible number of emotions tore through Hermione.

Surprise was the first. How on Earth could he forgive Ginny for what she tried to do… for what she, quite probably, really did do? She also felt anger, anger at Ginny for having such a complete hold on Harry’s heart that he actually could forgive her for, what seemed to Hermione to be, something so completely unforgivable. Another emotion, oddly enough, was the sense of pride that she always had for Harry. She was strangely proud of him for still having the one thing she loved most about him… Faith. His faith in his friends, in his abilities and, incredibly, faith in the person he chose to marry, but how could he hold such faith in a person who was so unfaithful?

The last emotion hit her hard. Sadness. Sadness for Harry, that he was going back to condemn himself to a life of misery. Sadness for Ginny, that she’s married to a man that has admitted that he doesn’t love her. She’ll play her games, she’ll be on his arm at social gatherings, she’ll have wealth, power and possessions, but she’ll never have his heart. Finally, there was the sadness for herself. Sadness in the knowledge that she loved Harry, and knew that he loved her as well, but now she would never have him, not that she ever thought she had a prayer before that night.

She felt a piece of her soul die along with the hope that she held for the last few hours. As he spoke those words, she realized that she was, once again, Harry’s favorite little brainy, bloody boring bookworm.

Surprisingly, even with the avalanche of emotions that, in that brief instant, had buried her, her expression hadn’t changed.

Her face didn’t betray her…

…until Harry finished his sentence.

“… to collect all the things she brought into the marriage and get the hell out of my house,” Harry directed his eyes to Hermione and saw the shock on her face, then continued to correct himself, “out of our house.”

He watched her for a moment, she stood frozen in the doorway. The shocked expression didn’t leave her face. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart.

“Well,” he said as he felt his confidence waning, “that is, of course, if you want to be with me… I just figured… I’ll be going to see my lawyer in the morning… I mean I’d understand if you didn’t want to… not right away, or… ummm…”

Hermione shook herself out of the stupor in which she found herself. The understanding of what he had just said finally sunk in past the shock. In two giant strides and a leap, she landed on top of Harry and hugged him as tightly as she dared, “Oh, Harry,” she breathed to him, “I can’t believe it! Do you mean it?”

Harry smiled and kissed her, “You bet I do!”

Hermione’s smile faltered a bit. “Ginny’s going to be furious, you know… If you divorce her, she’s not going to settle for a bag of clothes and a pat on the bum as she walks out the door, she’s gotten too used to those ‘parties.’ She’s going to try to get as much from you as she can.”

Harry gave her a sly smile, which Hermione took the wrong way. “No, Harry! I’m not interested in your money! I just don’t want to see you get…”

“I know, Hermione,” he interrupted, “but she can’t cause any trouble. She’ll take what I give her and be thankful for it.” She gave him an uncertain look.

“Think about it, Hermione, you practically said so yourself… She’ll take what I give her, and if she tries to get more, well, how much money do you think she could spend while in a cell in Azkaban?”

This reminded Hermione of something she needed to do. She looked at Harry, unsure of how to approach the subject. He noticed her concern, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s the charm she used… If we didn’t make it in time, then you aren’t going to be producing any new, live… ummm…”

“Seed?” suggested Harry, who smiled at her embarrassment despite the gravity of the conversation.

“Yes, well,” she continued, trying to sound as professional as possible while showing him that hope for a family wasn’t lost, “we won’t know if the counter-charm was successful for several weeks. You see, even if the counter-charm didn’t work, you still have live… seed in you right now. You could get a sample and preserve it, and use it later when you’re ready.” Hermione pulled a small, empty bottle from the pocket of her smock and held it out to him.

Harry reddened in understanding of what she was saying. He nodded, took the bottle and as she left him alone in the room, he said, “Thanks… for everything.”

~~*~~

One month later, Hermione was in her future bedroom, or it will be her bedroom once she clears out the remainder of the ‘artifacts’ strewn throughout the room. With a wave of her wand, she sent the entire mess of lotions, potions and perfumes from the top of the vanity into a nearby waste bucket, and smiled as the bucket burped loudly. She had better not hear that bucket complain about being hungry for a long time.

She wondered to herself how one person could need so much… stuff. Rows of dressers packed to capacity with frilly bras and knickers, shelves upon shelves of beauty products, and room-sized closets full of designer gowns, dresses, robes and assorted outfits. Even if the previous owner had worn three of these outfits a day, without ever wearing the same thing twice, she would certainly die of old age before getting halfway through them, and this is after she had left the house with sixteen of her favorite house elves, each dragging a large trunk full of clothes and jewelry behind them.

Hermione could hardly wait for the people from the St. Mungo’s Relief fund to arrive. They were certainly in for a surprise when they see all the clothing that was being donated.

Hermione’s thoughts drifted to the previous week’s events. She had been summoned to the Ministry of Magic to give testimony for a Mr. Harry Potter. She remembered the smug look on Ginny’s face as she importantly proclaimed her right to three-quarters of Harry’s liquid assets, and brazenly demanded that all their real estate be immediately sold, with the profits split between Harry and her… Well, except for the beach house, which she tearfully claimed the right to, seeing how she spent most of her married life there, practically abandoned by a ‘selfish, neglectful, and abusive husband’ who valued his work over her happiness.

Harry’s lawyer replaced Ginny’s smugness with outrage as she heard the counter-offer, she can take her clothes and a fixed one hundred thousand Galleons.

Ginny immediately ranted and screamed at her own lawyer, who was laughing pompously and stated that the counter-offer was preposterous, and he had a good mind to double the demands, after all, his client had to be kept in the style of life that she had become accustomed to in her ‘long’ years of marriage!

Harry’s lawyer and the justice minister both quietly waited for the rampage to die down, each wearing a pleasant smile.

After the shouting had ceased, Harry’s lawyer calmly stated that her demands, while a bit extreme, would normally have been agreed to… if it weren’t for the presence of the ‘extenuating circumstances.’

Both the faces of Ginny and her pompous lawyer fell. Neither one expected to hear what would come next.

The justice minister called Hermione forward to give her testimony. She related, in the most professional manner she could summon, “Mr. Potter arrived at St. Mungo’s Hospital on October third of this year at nine thirty-five in the evening, suffering from the effects of the Scectillious charm, a spell that permanently sterilizes males if it is not reversed immediately. Mr. Potter underwent an extremely lengthy and painful treatment in an attempt to reverse the effects. The effectiveness of that treatment is unknown at this time, but due to the fact that Mr. Potter didn’t know what this charm was that Mrs. Potter had cast upon him, which resulted in the delay of the treatment and makes his chances of recovery around fifteen percent.” She turned to the minister and stated, “As you know, Minister, it is illegal for a male to cast that particular charm on anyone but himself, and it is illegal for any female to cast it at all.”

There was a collective gasp, followed by angry muttering that echoed around the chamber as Hermione returned to her seat.

Hermione recalled the way Ginny’s face dropped in shock when she learned of the seriousness of the charges that were prepared against her, and the look of fear that replaced the shock when she heard that the penalty for casting the Scectillious charm on an unwilling male was punishable by, at the minimum, fifteen years in Azkaban Prison. Ginny’s face became even paler when the court was informed that the maximum sentence was fifty years, which is what Harry would recommend if his counter-offer were refused.

Hermione watched coolly when Ginny, upon hearing the possible punishment, rushed to Harry and firmly planted herself on his lap and wantonly ground her hips into his groin, saying in the sweetest voice she could muster, “Darling, you won’t let them take me to prison, would you? I know you aren’t serious about this divorce thingy… I knew you wouldn’t mind about that silly spell, I know you want me to stay slim and sexy for you, and we could just adopt a little brat in ten years or so!”

Even Molly Weasley, whose eyes had been shooting daggers at Harry since she arrived with her daughter, blanched at the way Ginny was acting, realizing that maybe, just maybe, her daughter wasn’t the victim here as she had claimed.

Seeing that her ‘charms’ weren’t working as Harry was trying to push her off of him, she played what she thought was her trump card, “Don’t you love me anymore? I still love you…”

Harry coldly glared at her as he finally managed to pry her away, then gave a wicked, simpering smile and said to her, “I’ll be willing to drop the charges altogether… If you forget the galleons and just take your clothes… They’re worth much more than the money I’m offering, anyway.”

An hour later, the hearing was over. Ginny had her clothes, and they both had their freedom. Hermione tried not to laugh at the look on Ginny’s face as she left the divorce hearing. She honestly did try, but failed miserably.

Hermione had just said ‘goodbye’ to the St. Mungo’s representatives, who were positively beaming with excitement at the generosity of the Great Harry Potter, when he arrived home from work.

He rushed up, kissed her, and said, “Hermione! What are you doing here?”

She stared at him for a moment with a silly smile on her lips, seemingly lost in thought, ‘Mmmm, I can’t wait until I’m greeted like that every time he comes home.’

“Hermione?”

“Oh!” she said, snapping out of her thoughts, “I was just here with the St. Mungo’s relief people, you know, clearing out stuff. I told you yesterday I’d be here helping…”

“That’s right,” he said hitting himself in the forehead and smiling, “Sorry, I forgot about that. I thought for a moment that you might have more changes to the wedding plans… We’re still on for next week, aren’t we?”

“Are you sure you don’t think we’re rushing into this? I’d understand if you wanted to wait…”

Harry smiled warmly and took her in his arms, “Don’t you think we’ve waited too long as it is?”

She didn’t answer, she just hugged him tighter, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

“Well, I’m here for another reason, too, I mean aside from meeting with the St. Mungo’s people.” She said with a small smile as she pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes.

“Oh? And what might that reason be?”

She blushed slightly while admiring the diamond ring on her finger, the ring that he had presented her the previous night, “You see, it’s been a month since the counter-charm was performed, and I think it’s time we find out if it worked.”

“Oh…” his smile disappeared as he sighed and held out his hand, “Well, give me the bottle…”

“Bottle? What bottle?” she asked with a very un-Hermioneish grin as she took Harry’s hand and led him towards the freshly cleaned out bedroom, “There’s more than one way to find out, you know…”

~~*~~

Junko (Hotaru)

Disclaimer: I still don’t own ‘Harry Potter.’ I make no money from writing about it.

-----~-----

Hermione was sitting in her small office at the St. Mungo’s Emergency Admittance Ward. It was another quiet night, perfect for sitting peacefully at her desk and studying the latest advances in the healing arts. She picked up her quill, scratched out a few notes on the newest evolution of the Tergeo cleansing spell, which was specially adapted for wound cleaning, and then casually turned to the next page in her massive book. She was absently running her hand over her swollen belly, so preoccupied with what she was reading that she wasn’t aware of the stupid grin that was fixed on her face.

Hannah Abbot was walking by Hermione’s office when she glanced in and saw her sitting there. She had seen hundreds of pregnant women, and knew very well the way they always seemed to have that ‘glow,’ but Hermione was positively radiant as she quietly read her book while dreamily running her fingers over her belly. A broad smile broke out and Hannah squealed in delight as she ran up to Hermione and gave her a huge hug.

“Oh, Hermione, I’m so bloody jealous! You look absolutely smashing! Merlin, the change that has come over you in the last year is incredible! Married life sure seems to be agreeing with you.”

Hermione beamed at her friend, blushing furiously, “Yes, I suppose it is. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine being any happier!”

Hannah gave her a last, quick hug before striding to the door, “I’ve got to finish my rounds, do say ‘Hello’ to Harry for me, won’t you?”

Hermione smiled and waved, “I will, see you!”

Hermione really couldn’t be any happier. The last year of her life had been a whirlwind of love and romance. They each took a month off from work right after the wedding and honeymooned at a secluded beach cottage in the south of France. They never saw much of the beach during that month.

Upon their return, they proceeded to tear through their possessions, cleansing their lives of everything that wasn’t ‘Harry and Hermione.’ They sold off most of the Potter real estate, but only after they ‘christened’ each house. The only house they didn’t ‘break in’ was the infamous beach house. Neither one of them ever felt the urge to go there. They kept the modest home in Godric’s Hollow, (Harry couldn’t bring himself to part with his parents’ cottage there,) the Black estate at Grimmauld Place, (Harry hated the house, but still wanted to keep it,) and the Potter ancestral estate, (which was more of a museum than a home.) The place they chose to live in was a small house they bought together in Hogsmeade, that is, until they found out she was pregnant. They rented a ground level flat in London within walking distance of St. Mungo’s where they both would stay until their baby arrived.

Hermione was thrilled to discover that Harry wasn’t comfortable living in the huge Potter Mansion, the only reason he did live there before was at the insistence of Ginny. At one point, Hermione called every house elf from every Potter estate to a meeting. She made the mistake of offering the battalion of house elves their freedom. A few of the elves just squeaked and fainted dead away, several others fell to the floor in inconsolable tears, and every other elf simultaneously disappeared on the spot. It took a month of searching to find all the elves’ hiding places. Once they were all found, not one of them would accept freedom, vacations or pay. Much to Hermione’s chagrin, every elf considered it the ultimate honor to be in the employ of not only great Harry Potter, but also the equally great Hermione Potter, and none of them could be swayed.

The infamous ‘beach house’ was eventually given to Ginny, along with a healthy amount of Galleons. Harry couldn’t stay mad at Ginny, and in a way, still loved her, but not in the way she wanted him to. After all, she was still a part of Harry’s adopted family, and it wouldn’t look very good for Harry’s ex-wife to be seen starving on the streets, although she would be dressed spiffingly while lying in the gutter. Harry had even met with Ginny ten months after the divorce. She seemed to be genuinely repentant for what she tried to do to him and for what she did do to herself. The only thing that went ‘wrong’ at that meeting was when Harry tried to give her a friendly kiss good-bye, she grabbed tightly onto his hair and tried to deepen it. Harry pushed her away, he would have none of it. Hermione really couldn’t fault Harry for forgiving Ginny. His heart was one of the things she had always loved about him. She wouldn’t change him for the world.

After Hannah left, Hermione turned her attention back to her book. She lightly flipped to the next page and her eyes widened. A new charm was developed to treat magical burns! That would surely help Charlie Weasley in his work with dragons! She let out a squeak while excitedly grabbing her quill from the table. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she started scribbling furiously onto her parchment, being careful to clearly diagram the exact wand movement for the charm. Her quill abruptly stopped mid-stroke when she heard a familiar chuckle from the doorway.

“There’s my favorite little boring bookworm! Merlin, I’ll never tire of seeing you get so excited when you’re learning something new.” Harry was standing in the doorway wearing his auror robes, his arms were folded across his chest, and a huge, lopsided grin was splayed across his face. Hermione thought he never looked sexier.

“Harry!” beamed Hermione as she stood up quickly, well, as quickly as her distended abdomen would allow, and waddled towards her husband.

“I’ll never tire of seeing that smile of yours, either.” He said as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He met her halfway across the room and caught her up into a passionate embrace.

She pulled away from him and looked him up and down, as if expecting to find some evidence of an injury, “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on duty, is anything wrong?”

“Tonks… She got caught in the doors to the lifts in the Ministry building. They say she’ll be fine, so while I was here, I thought I’d stop by for a visit.” He gave her another quick hug and a kiss and helped her back to her chair before seating himself next to her. She rested her hands on her belly and stared into his eyes, getting lost in the green pools.

Harry smiled and said, “Yeah, sometimes I can hardly believe it, myself.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

He let out a small laugh and said, “No, I’m not reading your mind again, it’s just that it was kinda obvious to me what you were thinking. I was thinking just about the same thing.”

She closed her mouth and smiled, letting out a little sigh at the same time. That ability they always seemed to share sometimes made other people around them uncomfortable. Had they always been able to read each other so well? Did the side-effect of the potion the previous year just enhance what they already could do? She sometimes wished she could read his thoughts, but realized that there was nothing he could think that she couldn’t read in his eyes anyway, and the time they’ve been married just seemed to strengthen their emotional bond.

“Harry, do you remember last year, when you took that potion? We’ve never really talked about what you ‘heard.’ I thought you were unconscious the whole time.”

Harry grimaced at the memory of that night. “Well, it was a strange feeling. About a minute after you started that counter-charm,” he noticed the apologetic look on her face and patted her hand before continuing, “Things became fuzzy… I could hear voices, some seemed far away, others a bit closer. I think they were the thoughts of people in the surrounding rooms, it just seemed to be random, disjointed thoughts drifting into my mind. Your voice, however was loud and clear. I heard you apologizing for hurting me, saying how you hated hurting me like that. You were so afraid I’d hate you for doing what you were doing… I also heard you say that you loved me right before I passed out.”

“After I woke up, I was still in pain, but I still had the connection. I heard about the Ginny and the beach house, and how I’m ‘too trusting for my own good.’” An odd expression briefly flickered over Harry’s face when he mentioned the trust part. “I’ll admit, that damn spell hurt a lot, but you know I’d never hate you for trying to help me, and besides, look at the result!” He indicated the mound of baby that was protruding under her smock. “I would have gone through that pain a thousand times, as long as it brought us to this point today.” He stood up and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Oh, Harry!” she breathed as she threw her hands around his neck and pressed her face into his chest, “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me!”

She felt Harry stiffen against her. She pulled back tentatively only to catch a glimpse of him turning his head away and surreptitiously wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his robes.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” worry was evident in her voice.

“I’m just being stupid… I just can’t help but to wonder if this is the way my father felt when my mother was carrying me… Silly, huh?”

She looked deeply into his eyes. Suddenly, she understood. She knew exactly how he felt. She could feel his emotions washing over her as if she were being dipped into a warm bath. She could feel the soul of the frightened, lonely eleven-year-old boy that she had met so long ago reach into her heart to touch her own. She grabbed hold of him tightly, never wanting to let him go. She shut her eyes, willing away her own tears. She understood.

She wasn’t quite sure how long they were holding each other, the embrace lasted until she felt him pull away from her slightly. He touched her chin with one finger, lifting it up and gave her another soft kiss before standing up and walking towards the door. “I had better go collect Tonks, we have a meeting with Shacklebolt in about fifteen minutes and we can’t be late. Oh, and by the way, I’ll probably be home later than usual tonight, you don’t have to wait up for me, you need your rest.”

Neither one of them noticed the pink, snake-like tendril withdrawing from under the door.

She sighed deeply and watched him step across the room, “Ok, sweetheart, I’ll see you then if I’m awake… Oh, I almost forgot, Hannah Abbot was just here, she wanted me to tell you ‘Hi’ for her.”

Harry smiled, “Tell her ‘Hi’ for me… See ya at home.”

Once her shift ended, Hermione stepped out from the hospital into the night. The breeze was a bit chilly, and the light rain that was falling had her hair sticking to the sides of her face within minutes, but she didn’t mind. It was actually somewhat refreshing and not nearly as cold as it normally was this late in October. As she tottered down the sidewalk towards their flat, she just couldn’t seem to erase the silly smile that had been stuck on her face since Harry’s visit. She was finally going to give Harry something in return for all he had given her. He had given her a life away from that lonely, boring flat where she used to live, he had given her his name, his heart and his soul, all the things she treasured beyond comparison, and all she had to give in return was her own love and the child she was carrying. ‘Quite the unfair trade for him,’ she thought to herself as she wobbled down the street, ‘he already had my love, and the baby I want just as much as he does!’

As she approached the steps leading up to her door, she noticed that there were lights on in the flat. ‘I thought he said he was going to be late?’ she thought to herself as she unsteadily climbed the steps. As she reached for the doorknob, the door swung open and Harry stepped into the doorway. A warm smile appeared on her dripping face, but faltered when she saw the scowl on Harry’s.

“Harry? What’s the matter, are you ok?” she asked while reaching out to him. Her hand abruptly stopped mid-motion when Harry took a step back away from her. Her smile disappeared completely and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I finally figured it out,” said Harry, in barely more than a hiss, “I didn’t make the connection until you reminded me about what I heard in your head last year.”

Hermione felt light headed. She looked deep into Harry’s eyes and was startled when all she saw there was anger, the same kind of fury she saw in the potions lab when he found out what Ginny had done to herself on their wedding night. She was starting to get scared.

“I- I don’t know what you mean!”

“Yeah,” said Harry with venom in his voice, “I heard what you were thinking when you didn’t know that I could hear it… How could I have been so stupid? You weren’t apologizing for hurting me, you were apologizing for trying to make me break up with Ginny! You knew it would break my heart letting Ginny go! That’s the ‘hurt’ you were talking about! That’s why you were so afraid that I’d hate you! What did you use on me, a confundus charm? A love potion?”

Hermione was trembling uncontrollably now and tears were mixing with the drizzle on her face. She couldn’t think straight, her world was shattering as if in a confused, chaotic maelstrom, “Harry, you can’t mean that! You heard what I was thinking, you must know how I feel! How could you think I’d do something like that? You know me better than that!”

“That’s exactly it!” yelled Harry, “Who would ever expect you to do something like that? You must have been proud of yourself, putting one over on the stupid, trusting Harry Potter! You were ready to watch me send my wife to Azkaban! Do you hate her that much? Were you that jealous of her life?”

Hermione fell to her knees on the doorstep, her stomach clenched horribly as she rocked back and forth, clutching her arms around herself… all she could say while he was yelling at her was, “No… no… no…This can’t be happening! No… no…” She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach, right below the sharper pain in her chest where her heart had been just minutes before.

Harry reached out and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her face up to meet his, his voice lowered into the most dangerous tone she had ever heard from him, “Maybe you can still go back to that rathole of a flat I found you in. As soon as you spit that ankle-biter out from between your legs, you can expect a letter from my lawyer. I’ll have a proper grandmother bring it up at the Burrow, you won’t get another knut out of me! Now get out of my sight!”

“You can’t take away our baby!” she managed to say between her agonizing sobs, “Please!” She then looked up and her eyes widened. She could see it. She never dreamed she would see it directed at her. She could see it in his eyes. Hatred.

Harry slapped her hard across the face, then pushed her back away from the doorway. She whimpered as she felt hairs that were tangled in his fingers being ripped from her scalp as she fell back down the steps. She could feel the warm drip of blood that trailed from the corner of her mouth. He slammed the door, leaving the sobbing and screaming Hermione sprawled across the stairs in the now freezing, pouring rain.

“HARRY!” she screamed at the door between her piteous cries, “PLEASE! HARRY!”

She couldn’t stop screaming. Lightning flashed in the skies above, soon followed by a rolling peal of thunder that drowned out her mournful wails. She suddenly went quiet as a painful jolt blazed through her stomach. She crawled back up the stairs and weakly banged her fist against the door. She was barely able to croak out through the pain, “Harry… the baby… I’m…”

The door remained closed.

She slumped against the door in defeat. She slowly, unsteadily got to her feet, stumbled down the stairs and waddled off into the cold, rain swept night. She could feel the warm liquid flowing down the inside of her legs, leaving a cloudy trail in the puddles on the sidewalk behind her as she attempted to make her way back to St. Mungo’s before the birth of her baby. She didn’t think she was going to make it.

-----

Harry apparated to the alley across the street from his London flat, having been released earlier than he expected after the meeting with the head auror. He hastily scanned the area to ensure he hadn’t been spotted by any muggles that might have happened by. He really didn’t expect anyone to be around at that time of night, for he lived in a relatively respected neighborhood. He was mildly surprised to see a figure stumbling down the sidewalk, apparently some drunken vagabond… a rare sight in this area since there were no pubs nearby. He felt a little sorry for the poor soul, being out on a stormy night such as this.

He sprinted across the street through the sheets of rain, anxious to finally get home and into a nice comfortable bed after his long night. As he stepped up to his door, he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye the shade of the front window flutter. Was Hermione waiting up for him?

He opened the door and stepped inside the flat. He shook the water from his cloak and hung it beside the door before making his way through the dark living room. He could see a sliver of light from a door that was left ajar stretching across the hallway that led to the back rooms. He heard a soft giggling waft from down the hallway. ‘Uh, oh,’ he thought, ‘she’s in a playful mood…’ A smile spread across his face as he stealthily crept towards the bedroom. As his hand reached for the door, he heard a sound from within the room that made him freeze. A long, loud moan. A moan that was clearly made by a man.

A whirl of thoughts cascaded through his mind as he shifted his view so that he could see into the room through the crack in the door. Harry shut his eyes tightly, but it did nothing to stem the tears that had suddenly forced their way to his eyelids. He felt the bile rise from his stomach into the back of his throat. His brain seemed to stop functioning as he opened his eyes again, his gaze fixed on the scene in his bedroom.

He could see Hermione upon the bed, on her hands and knees with her distended belly resting on the sheets, her head thrown back in abandon. She was naked. There was a similarly naked man standing behind her beside the bed, with his hands on her hips. They weren’t playing exploding snap.

Once Harry recovered the ability to move, he slowly swung the door open. Hermione looked over towards the doorway, and in a cheerful voice said, “Hi, Harry!” The man looked at him and simply said, “Oops, sorry mate, I guess it’s your turn!” The man grabbed his clothes that were in a pile on the bed beside Hermione and before anyone else could move, he spun on the spot and disapparated from the flat.

“Why do you look so surprised?” said Hermione as she calmly climbed off the bed.

“Hermione! How could you…? Our baby…” He was having a hard time stringing two coherent thoughts together. He could almost hear his soul shattering within him.

“My baby. You had nothing to do with this.” She said, indicating her stomach, “Come on, now, you aren’t that stupid!”

“No, that’s my child… that’s…”

Ginny only used a fever hex on you. Harry, you can’t have children. You’re sterile. I faked the results of the test last year. I knew you were sterile years ago, you can’t be put under the Cruciatus as many times as you have without some permanent damage. When you came into the hospital that day, I saw the perfect opportunity to get a bit of revenge on you. I must say, it worked out quite well… I make you get rid of that red-headed wench and I get to slide right in and play with her toys!”

Harry stood there, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Revenge? This is all about revenge? What could I have possibly done to you that would make you do this to me?”

Don’t play dumb with me. All through school I was madly in love with you. Everybody knew it but the thick-headed Griffyndor seeker. I tried to make it as obvious as I could short of ripping your pants off in the common room and shagging your brains out. It was painfully obvious that you didn’t give a screwt’s arse about me. I was too ugly. I was too plain. You wanted the lookers… Cho and Ginny… You even chose Luna over me! Looney bloody Lovegood went out with you more often than I did! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

“Hermione, I…”

“Oh, it was a perfect recipe!” she said, stepping all over what Harry was trying to say, “A little love potion mixed with a bit of telepathy serum, add a bunch of thoughts for you to ‘read’ and some memory tweaking about Ginny’s infidelity and you get instant vengeance! Sure, I got my heart broken back in school, but you got yours broken twice… how brilliant is that? A mudblood bookworm getting the best over the great Harry Potter! The only thing that could have made it better was if that wife of yours ended up in Azkaban! But nooo… you’re so noble!”

Harry’s mouth opened and closed a few times. He watched in utter shock as she quickly dressed herself in her bright red robes.

Hermione shook her head and laughed as she brushed past him and headed for the front door. “Just send off an owl with the divorce papers, I’ll sign them… Say, maybe Ginny could make some room for you in her bed, because you sure won’t be getting into mine again. Good bye, Harry.”

She stepped out of the door laughing. The door closed and she was gone, leaving Harry standing in the hallway in a puddle of rainwater and tears.

Harry slammed his fist into the wall, creating a large hole in the plaster. He yelled a few unintelligible words, and then stormed towards the front door. He couldn’t stay in that place a moment longer. He roughly grabbed his cloak, threw it over his still-soaked auror robes and stepped out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

The rain was pouring down harder than it was when he arrived. The steady hiss of the rain and the howl of the wind were punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder between the flashes of lightning. He remembered a new pub had opened about ten blocks away, it was a fair distance to walk, but he didn’t care. A pub was exactly what he needed, maybe a good soaking in scotch would be enough to block out the vision of Hermione and that ‘man’ from his brain.

‘How could I have been fooled like that? How could I have been so stupid? She faked my fertility report?’ A chaotic barrage of thoughts and emotions battered his heart as he walked. His breathing hitched every time a painful pang wracked his chest. He was nearly blinded by the rain and tears that were assaulting his eyes.

He suddenly tripped and almost fell on his face as he stumbled across a form lying in the darkness on the sidewalk. It looked like that drunk that he had seen earlier. ‘Poor fellow,’ he thought, ‘alone and forgotten on a cold, miserable night… I know how you feel, friend.’

He couldn’t just leave the poor soul lying in the gutter in a thunderstorm. As Harry bent down to help the fellow up he saw that the form was dressed in robes… it was a wizard. He drew his wand and quietly said, “Lumos.” A soft glow emanated from his wand and illuminated the figure before him. He saw that the robes were coloured in the trademark green of the St. Mungo’s healers.

He reached down and turned the form over. He felt his heart stop. He was looking down at the cold, pale face of…

“Hermione!” He pushed his hurt and anger aside, his auror perception kicked in and he instantly remembered that she left the flat wearing red robes. The wheels in his head started spinning furiously. This was not the Hermione that left his flat minutes before.

When he tried to pick her up into his arms, her eyes flew open and once she registered who it was that grabbed her, she started screaming hysterically while scuttling away from him. She backed herself against a building and cowered with her arms over her face.

“Please, Harry, don’t hit me again!” Her voice was raw and hoarse, “Please, I’ll do what you want, I’ll go away, just don’t take our baby away from me!”

‘Hit her? Again??? Take our baby away?’ He moved forward and reached for her. She tried to scramble back in terror, but he still managed to scoop her up into his arms.

She squealed in fright as he lifted her off the watery sidewalk. Exhaustion, terror and hormones prevented any rational thought from entering her head. All she could do was scream until another contraction hit her. She hissed in pain and stiffened in his arms as he hurriedly made his way down the street towards St. Mungo’s. She had passed out again before he arrived there.

Harry sat for hours outside the door of the room where Hermione was giving birth, running the night’s events over and over in his mind. What in Merlin’s name was going on? Did she somehow get a hold of a time turner… or maybe she was placed under the Imperous curse? Did she transfigure her robes when she left? And what did she mean about him hitting her? He never touched her, nor did he threaten to take the baby away from her, after all, if it really wasn’t his, why would he care? Was he going to get his hands on a time turner after he find out about her in the future?

A frown appeared on Harry’s face as he thought to himself, ‘Or maybe… someone hit her that just looked like me?’

Harry immediately thought back to the time he had met up with Ginny to ‘bury the hatchet,’ so to speak. He remembered when he went to give her a peck on the cheek, how she grabbed hold of his hair and pressed a deep kiss onto his lips. He assumed she was happy that he was speaking to her again, or maybe only happy about getting her beach house and a stipend. He was surprised by the sudden kiss, and pushed her roughly away while her hands were still wrapped in his hair. She could have easily pulled a few of his hairs out.

Harry stood up and started pacing the corridor. He felt his blood begin to boil. Could it have been Ginny who hit Hermione? A sneer cut across his face and his hands balled up into white-knuckled fists as he thought, ‘Was it Ginny I saw in the bedroom? Did she get some of Hermione’s hair?’

He felt a kind of rage building inside of him that he’d never felt before.

At that point, the door to Hermione’s room opened and two healers stepped into the hallway. One of them was Hannah Abbot. She walked up to Harry, and then turned as if she were going to walk away, but she was actually rearing her hand back.

SLAP!

Hannah squealed in pain as she shook the sting out of her hand. The left side of Harry’s face practically glowed red from the impact of her palm.

“How dare you!” she hissed to him, “How dare you accuse of her of breaking you and Ginny up? How could you even think someone like Hermione would use a love potion on you or modify your memories? How could you hit a pregnant woman then throw her out of her home into a thunderstorm! You know she can’t apparate anywhere in her condition... Did you expect her to take the Knight Bus?”

Things were starting to add up in Harry’s mind, “Hannah, it wasn’t…”

SLAP!

The right side of Harry’s face now matched the left.

“I hope you’re happy now! There’s a traumatized, suicidal woman in that room nursing a baby that arrived a month prematurely! I’d be surprised if either of them survive the day! I hope you’re proud of yourself, you bastard!”

Harry deftly grabbed her wrist as her hand arced towards his face again, “Will you listen to me! It wasn’t me! I didn’t say those things to her! You have to believe me! She has to believe me!”

Hannah shook her wrist out of Harry’s grasp and eyed him suspiciously.

“Come on, Hannah, you must know by now that I’m not like that. It wasn’t me, but I’m pretty sure I know who it was. In order to prove it I’ll need her help.”

“You can’t see her. We just calmed her down enough where she has stopped crying. If you go walking in there she would likely go all hysterical again.”

Hanna looked him in the eye for a moment. She could see the genuine concern. Her voice softened and she said, “She’s in a bad way, Harry. I’ve never seen her more upset.”

“Please, Hannah, you have to make her understand that it wasn’t me. When I got home last night, I found Hermione in our bedroom…” Harry swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat, “making love to another man.”

“WHAT!?!” screeched Hannah.

“But I know now it wasn’t her. I can’t explain it right now, but after I left the house I found this Hermione, my Hermione lying in a gutter.” He quickly wiped the wetness that was forming in his eyes on his still damp sleeve. Hannah had her hands over her open mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

“Please, talk to her for me… make her understand. I can make things right, but I need her help.”

Hannah nodded and said, “I’ll try…” She walked back into Hermione’s room.

-----

A soft, warm breeze wafted in from the ocean as the bright morning sun warmed the sand around ‘The Love Shack,’ formerly known as the Potter beach house. Even on this November day, the area surrounding the house was as warm and comfortable as a day in July, thanks to the permanent Aestas Aeternus, the Everlasting Summer Charm that was placed on the house when it was built. A soft crack that sounded from the shoreline announced the arrival of a visitor.

A thin, disheveled-looking witch appeared on the beach and began walking up to the patio that overlooked the seashore. She was wearing old, wrinkled robes with a plain black cloak. Her dirty, brown hair hung lifelessly from her head and her sunken, spiritless eyes had dark circles beneath them, as if she had been crying for days or had many sleepless nights. She limped across the sand, shakily supported by a walking stick.

She reached the patio and looked at the pretty, young witch. She was lying topless on her stomach, stretched out on a lounge chair sunning herself, while a handsome young man was busy rubbing tanning oil onto her exposed back.

“Hello, Ginny.”

Ginny Glanced over her shoulder, briefly lifted her sunglasses, and flashed a wide smile, “Well! Hello Hermione, you’re looking… well.” She rolled onto her back and sat up. The young man beside her was unfazed, he just lubed up his hands again and started rubbing the oil over her shoulders and chest. “I want to thank you and Harry for giving me this house. That was very kind, and you know how I love it here.”

Hermione stood silently, looking at Ginny and leaning on her stick.

Ginny sat there smiling and looked Hermione over. “So what brings you to my humble abode?”

“I’m leaving England. I’m catching a muggle flight to Paris tonight.” Said Hermione softly, “It looks like you won.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Ginny sweetly.

“They don’t call me ‘the brightest witch of my age’ for nothing… I know what you did, not that it matters. I lost the baby, Harry won’t even talk to me, and everyone has turned their backs on me. I can’t even hold a job now. There’s nothing left for me here.”

Ginny let out a slight giggle and said flippantly, “Too bad, makes me sad… but that has nothing to do with me.”

“All I want to know is why. You messed up your own life, why did you have to destroy mine as well? How did you make Harry hate me so? He’s telling people I cheated on him!”

Ginny picked up her empty cocktail glass and handed it to the young man who was oiling her breasts and said, “Be a love and fix me a refresher, and take your time, would you?”

The man took the glass and obediently walked into the house. Hermione’s eyes followed the man and a slight sneer appeared on her face. Once she realized it, she averted her eyes and resumed her sad, tormented expression.

“You want to know why, do you? It’s because everything that happened is your fault. Even before Harry and I were married, every time he kissed me, I knew he was wishing he were kissing you. Every time we made love, I knew he was watching your face behind his closed eyes.”

“That’s not true.” Said Hermione in a shaky, distressed voice, “How do you know what he was thinking?”

“I could just tell… It was obvious. It didn’t change after the wedding, either. But I didn’t care, I had what I wanted. He was perfectly fine with drifting through life with his head up his arse… until that day. I only recently discovered what really happened that day at the hospital when he found out you loved him. I knew about that, of course, I’d known since my third year during that stupid tournament. It was disgusting the way you two were always drooling over each other, connected at the hip, but even with that ‘connection’ you had, neither of you realized what the other’s true feelings were. You were both so comically thick. He would never have known about your feelings for him without that bloody potion.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open for a moment, “How did you find out about that? We never told anyone!”

Ginny’s smirk widened, “It seems Harry’s old cloak ‘accidentally’ fell into one of my trunks the day I left. Given that and one of my brothers’ extendable ears and you’d be surprised what a person could inadvertently overhear while lingering in hospital corridors.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped as she turned her back on Ginny and hung her head. A soft sob escaped her throat as she said. “Harry’s going to be here soon. It seems he’s anxious to see you. How did you do it? Did you modify his memory to believe I was cheating? Was it a love potion?”

Ginny laid back onto the lounge as she spoke, “It was too easy. I’ve had some of Harry’s hair for a for months. A little Harry Juice was all I needed to get some hairs from you when you were at the door and then made some ‘Instant Hermione Juice’ to greet my loving husband. Once he came home, I just staged a little act in the bedroom with Ian here” Ginny indicated the fellow inside of the beach house, who was taking an excruciatingly long time to slice a lime, “Then all it took was to plant the seeds in his head about using memory mods. We both know you didn’t, but that’s the beauty of just accusing, how does one know their memories haven’t been modified? There will always be that doubt.”

“You’re insane.” Hermione’s voice sounded strangely deeper and her hair seemed a bit darker and shorter, “Do you know what the penalty for impersonating an auror is?”

The change in voice didn’t immediately register in Ginny’s brain, she assumed it was just the whiny wench’s emotions, “What does it matter? You can’t prove a thing, it’s just your word against mine, and as you said, the word of Harry’s brilliant, brainy bookworm doesn’t carry much weight anymore.”

Ginny had her eyes closed as she spoke, just lying back, grinning broadly and soaking up the rays. She didn’t see that Hermione’s shoulders dramatically widened and that she suddenly grew six inches as the polyjuice potion wore off.

“How about the word of Harry Potter?”

The grin immediately fell from Ginny’s face as she heard Harry’s voice. She bolted upright and her sunglasses, along with a spray of spit, flew from her face exposing her eyes that were wide with terror.

He grinned evilly, “Didn’t I just say I’d be here soon and that I was anxious to meet with you?”

Panic set in. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny plunged her hand into the sand beneath the lounge chair where her wand was hidden and pointed it at Harry.

“Imperio!”

The spell connected with Harry’s chest. He casually drew his own wand and silently gave it a flick, causing Ginny’s wand to fly out of her hand and into Harry’s.

“Tsk tsk, I suppose you didn’t know that I can shrug off the Imperius. Even Tom Riddle’s Imperius didn’t affect me.” Harry then announced in a loud voice, “I think we’ve seen enough here, don’t you?

Ginny’s face blanched in dismay as she saw The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, along with a dozen officials from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement emerging from under a flurry of invisibility cloaks. Behind them, two more figures were revealed from under their own cloaks, Hermione Potter, holding her two-week-old infant and wearing a vindicated smile and Ginny’s mother, Molly Weasley, who had been magically silenced and made to watch the episode to convince her of her daughter’s treachery.

Rufus turned to Harry and said, “I think there’s no point in making you suffer through a trial, I believe her actions, on top of her confession and the witnesses present, warrant an immediate incarceration.” He then turned to Molly, “Unless, of course, Mrs. Weasley here still wants to profess her daughter’s innocence?”

The moment the silencing spell was lifted, the air was filled with the unintelligible wailing and sobbing of the Weasley matriarch. Not able to stand being in her daughter’s presence a moment longer, she spun on the spot and disapparated back to the Burrow.

As the DMLE officials placed shackles on the hysterically screaming Ginny, Harry turned to Hermione and held her in a passionate embrace. “Is my favorite little boring bookworm ready to go home?”

Hermione looked deeply into her husband’s eyes, “Mmmm… ‘Home’ never sounded so good…”

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A/N: Yes, Ginny used an unforgivable, so she’s headed for Azkaban… Are you guys happy now? ^_^ Thanks to all my reviewers, I love you all!