The Loving Time

A/N: Well, everyone welcome. First, the normal disclaimers, I don't own the characters, if I did the anvils would have had giant alarms posted to them so people would have seen them coming LOL. Anyway, that aside, I'd like to say welcome. This is the first plot that I have completely charted. I know where this story is going and what is supposed to happen in the first four chapters. I really want to stay on top of this story and so I hope that everyone enjoys this story enough to make it worth my while. This is loosely based on a book and movie, of which I will reveal at a later date, or the plot may be given away.

Enjoy!

Avalon

The Loving Time

Chapter 1: The Loving Time

“Oh what's the use in complaining
In for a penny in for a pound
I remember the loving time
And nothing else really counts

And I recall the promise they made
With a faith I can but admire
That she'd be the one he adored
And he'd be her hearts desire” Mary Black~The Loving Time

Hermione:

His death was so much more than the end. It was the beginning for many people. It meant the beginning of a life without fear. It meant the beginning of a new era. It also meant the beginning of my torment. It was the beginning of a life that was never something I could dream of. It would signal a time of momentous ups and downs. Something that, if asked to chose, I don't know if I would want it or ask it to be taken away from me. His end turned out to be a beginning of sorts.

Day 1, Month 1, Year 1 AV (after Voldemort)

She was told that she was the one to make the decision. Of course, no one needed to tell her that the choice was hers. She knew that it was, she was, after all, his wife. It didn't make it any easier. Ron stood by her side, Luna next to him, as the stood over Harry's bed. He looked so peaceful, more than he had been in the last months. Looking at him, you would never know that he was gone. According to the Medi wizards, there was nothing that could be done for him. There were no vital signs, and the only thing that was keeping him medically alive, was the various talismans that were regulating all his body functions. He was brain dead and his organs were ready to be relieved of their struggling. But she couldn't see that. He still had a little color in his cheeks. He still was warm to the touch. How could she be the one to have to end it?

“Hermione, he's not there. That's just a shell.” Ron whispered, reading her mind in a way that had been developed in the years of battle. The three of them had gotten so good at it and now it was only the two of them. “He wouldn't want this. He hated hospital.”

“Give her time Ronald. Give him time. “ Luna whispered airily. Hermione couldn't help but be grateful for the wispy blonde.

“I can't,” She whispered, kissing Harry. She walked out the door.

Ron and Luna followed her. They had been given access to a special entrance, one the reporters could not find and waited on their ride from the Ministry. Ron laughed at the irony of the matter, for years; the Ministry went out of its way to condemn Harry. And now, that he was dead, they were more than happy to help his family out and provide for their needs. Ministry escort was no less then what Mrs. Potter deserved. She shivered, not because of the cold; it was a mild day in late spring. It had been a month since Voldemort and Harry fought. Harry killed Voldemort, but his body was too taxed, though no one could explain exactly why he was so destroyed. Hermione and Ron had been busy elsewhere, overseeing others on their side. Taking counts. All things that Harry knew would keep them safe.

Hermione hated him sometimes, just for the fact that he put her and Ron in a tent off of the battlefield, asking them to make sure everything went as plan. She had always thought that it would be the three of them together in the end.

But the prophecy withheld, one died at the hands of the other. A great shudder fell over the battle and than silence. She had promised that she would stay away while he was fighting, but as soon as it was over she rushed to find him. He lay in an awkward position, eyes open, not responding to anything, barely breathing. And then, he was gone. It happened so quickly that Hermione wasn't sure that it was real. Surely, she tried to tell herself, her grief was overcoming her. And before Ron made it to her screaming voice, Harry was back. Eyes closed and a peaceful look upon his face. They took him to St. Mungo's, where he had been for a month. She knew what had to be done, but she couldn't be there for it.

They got in the back of the Ministry car, it was black, very fitting for the occasion, all silent. Ron sat between Luna and Hermione. She was grateful that Luna understood, as she rested her head on Ron's shoulder.

“Where am I taking you all?” The driver asked as he drove away from the hospital.

Ron looked at Luna, she merely nodded.

“Grimmauld Place. We'll walk from there.” They sat in companionable silence until the driver pulled up to Grimmauld Place, pulling over on the side of the road. “Thank you.” Ron said as they piled out of the car. They walked down the road as the driver pulled away, Luna's arm around Hermione. Hermione barely noticed that they were in the house, unitl Luna took off her rain coat and hung it up for her. The house felt empty, what was it they said about homes?

“I think I'm going to my room for awhile.” She said, and walked down the hallways. No longer was this a place of darkness. Throughout the lulls in the war, they had worked hard to clean and brighten the place. It was an escape on all their parts. Pretending for a moment they were normal twenty-somethings working on their first flat. But it was going to be more than that, it was going to be their family home, Harry had decided. Hermione trailed her hand on the heavy banister. It's dark mahogany, sleek under her hand.

Their room was their haven. On sunny days light shone into the room, illuminating the gold accents, minimal but there. Creams, golds, and deep chocolate browns covered their bed, a four poster bed, Harry had picked out for the two of them. The rest of the room, Hermione had decorated. Two soft white armchairs sat by the window, perfect for reading, though with the chairs situated with their back to the door, she was often startled by Harry as he would sneak up on her while she was deep in a book. He always thought it to be so funny. A tear rolled down her cheek at the thought. A tall bookshelf lined the walls around the picture window, something Harry had ordered custom made just for her. “Just in case you don't want to go down to the Library.” He had said with a smile.

She walked to their closet, and took out a jumper of his. Pulling it over her head and grabbing a throw, she sat in the chair, watching as the rain started. She couldn't help but be chilled these days. She didn't know what she was going to do without him. She didn't know who she was without him. Something she never had wanted, and yet, sometimes we don't get what we wish for. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, staring out the window, watching the rain. They were supposed to do other things when the war was over. They were supposed to have children, travel the world, love each other forever...

She could only roll the possibilities through her head, wishing and hoping that her life would get better. It was some time and then she felt someone's eyes on her from the direction of the other chair.

“Hermione?” She turned her head, catching the chair out of the corner of her eye. He was there. His messy black hair clashing against the white, “Hermione?” That wasn't Harry's voice. But she couldn't stop staring. It was him, his green eyes looking at her, confusion in his eyes. Footsteps walked up behind her. “Hermione,” a hand on her shoulder, she looked up, it was Ron. She looked back at Harry, but the chair was empty.

“Hermione, what are you staring at?” Ron asked, concern etched in his voice.

“Nothing Ron, it was nothing.” She whispered.

“Luna made some soup and fresh bread for dinner. Why don't you come down and eat it?”

Hermione needed to leave the room, she was sure she was going crazy, and yet, she wanted to stay and see if Harry would come back. What was she thinking? He couldn't come back, he hadn't been there!

“Come on you need to eat and we need to talk.” Ron said helping her up, and flash of pity and love on his face when he noticed she was wearing Harry's jumper. Hermione noticed this, “This was the closet I had to him hugging me.” She whispered apologetically.

“I understand,” Ron said as they walked out of the room taking one last glance at the other chair, he almost could picture Harry sitting in his chair, “I understand.”

Luna was setting their bowls around the table as Ron and Hermione entered. Hermione noticed that Harry's spot was strategically empty. Would it always be like this, she wondered? Did she want his spot to be filled?

They sat in silence for awhile until Ron finally broke the silence. “Hermione, we need to talk about letting Harry go.”

Ron braced himself for the fight he was sure was going to happen. Instead Hermione just nodded.

“Does that mean you agree? Hermione, I need to hear it from you. No one is asking you to do it today, but there's just no use to keeping him trapped in a body that is dying.”

“I know Ron. I-“ She paused, the words choking her. “I just can't do it. I can't be there when it happens. I don't know that I would be able to sit through his last breath without trying to do something. I've spent so long being the one to save him. How can I-“She choked at the thought. “How can I be the one?” She muttered with a sob.

“Hermione,” Ron began, but realized there wasn't anything that could be said. Instead, he got up and hugged her as she cried. “You won't have to do it. I can take that burden from you.” He said, pulling away and looking into her eyes. He hated to ask the next question. It was one thing agreeing that it had to be done. It was a completely different thing to say when they wanted to do it. “Do you want to see him before?”

Did she want to see him before? Hermione felt the bile rise up. How could she not want to see him? How could she see him? The answer was out of her mouth before she even realized it. Painful and harsh, yet crystal clear in it's demand.

“No”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked, quietly knowing that one day, she would regret the choice, praying that she would realize this now, and change her mind.

She couldn't say it again, but she nodded her head. “Just do it before I change my mind.” She whispered as she pushed the chair out from under her, letting it tumble as she ran out of the room. She couldn't go up to their room. She couldn't go anywhere in their house.

Instead, she walked quietly out the back door into the garden. The rain hadn't stopped and she shivered as the cool drops melted with the warm drops. She sat against a tree in the yard, the buds not fully bloomed, nothing covering her from the rain. She didn't care though, she was to distraught. Her breath hitched in her lungs, her anguish sat heavy on her soul. She hugged her knees and lay her head on them, her mind wandering…

“Promise me, Hermione.” Harry said, tracing circles on her arm.

She hated it when he did that, using her weakness to distract her into submission. Yet she loved the way it felt as he caressed her arm, laying tender kisses on her cheeks.

“Harry, I want to help you.” She pleaded.

“Please, promise me that you will stay in that tent unless it is attacked. Please, promise me that you'll live. I need to know that the person I treasure above everything else will be safe.” He asked desperately.

“And what about me? How am I supposed to do anything if I don't know you are alive?” Hermione paused, “I love you Harry. More than I ever thought I would love anyone. You have my whole heart, I've promised you that. But what hope does my heart have, if you don't survive?” She asked him, tears welling in her eyes. His hands traveled to cup the apples of her cheek, using his thumbs, he brushed her tears back.

“Hermione, I promise, I will never leave with your heart. A gift as precious as your love? I could never let it go to waste. Please…” He begged giving her a kiss. It deepened to their soul. He made his way down her chest, kissing it lightly. “I love you with all my heart…”

He made love to her so tenderly, Hermione feared her heart would break from sheer devotion…

~~~~

Ron watched Hermione go. He knew he should go after her, but he was exhausted. The past month had been an ordeal. The testing that went on twenty four hours a day on Harry, the constant search for a reason for his condition, had taken its toll on him. They had researched, tried spells, gained entrance into the Department of Mysteries, yet nothing they did would end in fruitful gain. They had failed, and the weight of this failure was too much. How had they let their friend and guardian die? He leaned into Luna as she came up to him from behind. Burdens of promises he made weighing his soul down. Never had he felt older or more mortal than he did now.

“Luna, it's not as if I want to do it.” He whispered, tilting his head backwards to meet her eyes.

”I know, Ronald.” She said, combing her hand through his hair. “Everyone knows, and no one will say that you did or that they did. But his soul has been set free; his body needs to be set free as well.”

“Luna, I love you.” He whispered. “I love you so much. But I promised him I would help take care of her, should something happen. Can you live with the attention I am going to have to give to make sure that she is alright after we do this?”

Luna got down in front of him falling to her knees. He looked up at her and saw her eyes sparkling with tears and understanding.

“I know that. But you think you are the only one who made promises. Who do you think Harry asked to take care of you? He set up a nice chain to make sure those he loved would be cared for. He asked that I help take care of this home. Why do you think he insisted we live here during the war and beyond? We'll live here like we planned, its no different than it was supposed to be, we are just one person short. The point is, we'll live. It won't be easy at first, but eventually, we'll remember that Harry sacrificed too much for us to not live. It is no one's failure to have lived or died.”

Ron often wondered if Luna had a gift of seeing beyond. She was always in tuned to what he thought and what he needed to hear.

“You're right. We'll make it through and so will Hermione.” He said standing in the kitchen. “Will you stay here and make sure that if she comes out of her room she's not alone while I'm at St. Mungo's?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I'm going to go and-“ He stopped, he wouldn't finish the sentence, besides Luna knew what he was about to do.

~~~~~~

Ron had said his goodbye and the deed was done. Harry Potter's official time of death was 11:00pm one month and one day after his final battle with Voldemort. All he wanted was to go home and lay in bed with Luna. But there were people to inform and arrangements to be made. His first stop would be the Burrow. He would tell his mother and father that their adoptive son was officially on his next great adventure.

He apparated outside the Burrow's wards and walked up the familiar path to his childhood home. It was different than it had once been, with improvements and more time from his retired father, yet it still was a place that had always brought him comfort.

He walked into their cluttered living room, to find his mother and father listening to WWN while respectively working on their knitting and tinkering with an old telephone.

His mother looked up startled to find their youngest son standing in their living room. Words did not need to be exchanged, instead, his mother dropped her knitting and stood up to hug her son.

“He's gone mum, we did it tonight.” His voice trembled. “There's so much that needs to be done, Hermione can't do it and I need Luna, and someone needs to find Lupin when the full-moon is over, and-“

“Shh, shh…” his mum rubbed his back while his father laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“We'll take care of it son.” His father said. “I'll floo Tonks in the morning. And we'll make arrangements to have the service after the Full Moon so Lupin can be in attendance.” Ron could only nod, his tears slowing to trickles out of his eyes.

“Can you be responsible for the media?” Ron asked, unsure if he would even be ready to make a public appearance when they had the service.

“Of course. Why don't you and your mum go back to Grimmauld Place. I'll be along shortly, I'm just going to notify the family” Arthur said. Ron was grateful that his parents were able to push aside their grief to help.

Ron nodded and stepped into the fire after throwing the powder into it. His mother was not far behind him, with a bag in tow, full of food, no doubt.

Luna was sitting in the kitchen, a mug of tea in her hand, a parchment of paper in front of her. She looked up, no smile, just a small nod as her husband came to her side.

“I thought I would get a start on the Quibbler's article for tomorrow's special edition.” Luna whispered. “Though it's a tad more difficult than I thought it was going to be.”

“Well, why don't you put that away for awhile and I'll put on a cup of tea. Where's Hermione, the poor dear?”

“She hasn't been out of her room all night. I was hoping that she fell asleep, she hasn't had much in the last month.”

~~~~

Hermione woke with a start, shivering and cold as the light in her bedroom turned on. She could see it from the tree she sat under. She had not meant to fall asleep. She hadn't meant to stay in the rain either. Did she care? But it was the light in her room that startled her the most.

Standing in the window a man, not to tall, his hair out of control. It was Harry. His silhouette was something that Hermione knew by heart. She had to get inside. She ran inside, her feet slipping in the mud as she ran to the door.

As she ran into the house she ran straight into Ron.

“Hermione, where have you been, we went to your room, you weren't there.” He paused noticing her state, “My god, Hermione, you're soaking wet?”

“Ron, Harry was in my room I saw him, let me go I need to go see him.” She struggled to get out of his grip.

“Hermione, that's why we were looking for you,.” Ron whispered. “He's not there, he's gone on.”

“No, he was just upstairs.” Hermione said, her breathes coming in short gasps.

`

“Hermione, you're burning up.”

“Ron he's- he's” her vision going fuzzy, while Ron scooped her up as she fainted.

“I found her!” He yelled out as he came to the main hallway, his mum meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. “She was outside all this time and she's burning up with fever. She's delusional; she thinks that Harry was upstairs.”

“Oh, the poor dear, hurry let's get her upstairs.” Molly, directed following Ron up the stairs. “Luna, bring some hot tea and biscuits,” She asked as Luna walked into the landing.

~~~~

Hermione groaned as she woke. Her limbs felt heavy and her eyelids were like sandpaper against her eyes. She was so cold too.

“There you are dearie.” A familiar redhead whispered, as she wiped Hermione's brow with a cold cloth. “Drink some of this.” She held a glass of steaming liquid up to her mouth. It was bitter and far too hot, but it felt good going down her throat.

“Harry wasn't here was he?” Hermione asked, her voice cracking with despair.

“No, love, he wasn't. Remember what we talked about?” Ron said as he sat on the bed next to her.

“He's gone then?” Hermione asked, understanding in her voice. The reality crossing her face.

Ron only nodded.

“Oh.” Hermione's lip started trembling. “I-uh I, who's making plans?”

“We'll take care of it. What you need to do is get some rest tonight. We'll sort things out in the morning.” Molly said.

“Ron, I want you and Luna to go and get some sleep for awhile, as well. I'll take care of Hermione for the night.” Molly gave her direction, one which was said in the sweetest of ways, but barred no arguments. Ron knew he would have to do what his mother said. And to be honest, all he wanted to do was sleep. He leaned over Hermione, brushing the hair from her face. They had come so far, the two of them. She was a sister to him, and still a best friend, and all he wanted was for her to feel better.

“You sleep tight.” He wished as he kissed her on the forehead. As he walked out the door he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek as well. “Thank you.”

His mother smiled, “It's the least I can do. He deserves so much more than I can give him.”

“Yes, he did.” Ron agreed, walking from the room, his facade breaking and taking his wife in his arms, they walked to their end of the house.

~~~~

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 AV

Hermione did not sleep well the entire night. Her dreams were plagued with his voice. She would wake and stare at the ceiling for hours. Sometimes, she would watch Molly sleeping with a troubled look on her face. And sometimes she would wake and Harry was always standing over her, a look of confusion on his face. She would go back to sleep trying to ignore him, but it was too difficult. Shortly before dawn she woke and couldn't get herself to fall back asleep. Her stomach was in knots.

She got out of bed, pulling a robe that someone had left next to her bed and walked to her chair. Sitting down in it, she could only think of him.

~~~~

They were sitting in their room; she was reading an old favorite of hers from her childhood. They had promised that they would spend a half an hour everyday taking time to enjoy something aside from the research they had been doing for the war effort. Harry was supposedly reading a Quidditch journal, but he had been staring at her for at least five pages of her book.

“Harry, honestly, how am I supposed to concentrate on this book if you keep staring at me?” She asked with a smirk.

He just shrugged his shoulders, smiling at her.

“What are you thinking?” Hermione asked. Lately, he had been rather pensive about many things.

“You're beautiful you know?” Harry started, “I just can picture you as a little girl, reading in a big chair lost in a world of imagination. I want to have a little girl just like you, so I can spoil her rotten.”

Hermione was so taken by that. She could do more than lean toward him and kiss him.

“You know,” Hermione paused. “You should spoil me until you get that daughter of yours.” Hermione laughed.

“Really? Don't I already?” Harry asked with a pout.

“Well, I can think of one thing right now that I want and am not getting.” Hermione said, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.

A knock came to the door.

“Harry, Hermione!” It was Ron. Sometimes, Hermione cursed the fact their best friend lived here with his wife. Only sometimes, like now, when she wished she could ignore him.

“Come on you guys! Hermione-“

~~~~

“Hermione” She looked up, and jumped when she saw his green eyes.

“You're not real.” She whispered, closing her eyes and willing this nightmare to end.

“Hermione, how did I get here?” He begged, sitting next to her in his chair.

“You're not here Harry, you're dead.” She said morosely.

“But, I am here. You, I can feel you. “ Harry said reaching out to her. She backed away from his touch, but a part of her longed for it. To her surprise, he was warm, his hand cupped her face. She had to be dreaming.

“I-uh-I don't understand. How are you here?” Hermione asked. She felt herself getting nauseous.

“I don't know. I was there, on the field-“

Hermione felt sick. Her skin was getting clammy and she was beginning to feel the saliva in her mouth work its way up. She was going to be sick. She didn't say anything as she stood up, her hand covering her mouth as she ran to her bathroom. She was just able to lift the lid of the toilet before she threw up the tea and biscuits she had eaten the night before. She was shivering and cold and couldn't get up out of the bathroom when she heard someone open the door.

“Hermione?” It was Molly's steady voice. It shouldn't have been steady though, especially if Harry was sitting right out in their room.

Hermione looked over to the door where Molly stood. She looked calm, except the concern etched on her face.

“Do you want me to get you something? Some tea?” The thought of food made Hermione's stomach turn again. She could only dry heave. After she was done, she shook her head slowly.

“Did you,” Hermione began, but wasn't sure how to ask. Seeing people in the wizarding world who were supposed dead were not the most unusual, though, mostly those people were ghosts. “Did, you see anything in the bedroom before you came in here?”

“No, but I was more worried about you. I heard you slam the bathroom door.” Molly said a question in her face. “Why do you ask?”

“I don't-“Hermione wasn't sure what she wanted to tell Molly. “I must have been asleep still and I thought I saw someone. It was so blurry though, I was asleep, I'm sure.” Hermione lied. Truth be told, she wasn't sure who she saw. It couldn't have been real.

“Let's get you back in bed.” Molly walked over to Hermione and helped her up. She was a little dizzy and shaky, but felt fine otherwise.

Hermione looked over to the chairs, and they were empty. She was almost ready to believe that she had imagined it, but on his chair sat a bracelet she had made him before he went to battle.

Hermione went over to pick it up. It was cold in the room, but the bracelet was still warm. Had he been there? She simply slid the bracelet on her wrist. It had to have been a dream. Right?

“You get some sleep,” Molly said, tucking Hermione in. “I'm going to go downstairs and see what I can make for breakfast. Don't worry about getting up anytime soon. I'll save some aside from you.” A look of concern crossed her face as she saw the bracelet on Hermione's wrist. Hermione didn't answer; she played with the bracelet until she was sleeping again contently, for the first time in hours.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you have no idea how happy it made me to get those. This chapter is filled with a lot of things that needed to be taken care of, thus, not so much emotion. However, the next chapter should be much more emotion. I hope you all enjoy, oh and I don't own any of the characters, because if I did, Anvils would have been more obvious…

Chapter 2: Ghost

Well if dreams are like movies

Then memories are films about ghosts

You can never escape

You can only move south down the coast…

Hey Mrs. Potter don't cry

Her Mrs. Potter I know why

But Hey Mrs. Potter won't you talk to me…

The price of a memory is the price of the sorrow it brings

Mrs. Potter's Lullaby- The Counting Crows.

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 AV

Hermione:

I thought I was going crazy, maybe I am in. He's here with me, whenever I need him. But he really isn't, at least I know that he isn't. I feel like I could die the moments I realize I must just be imaging him. The pain is so intense and it means I must be losing my sanity. I want nothing more than this to be one big dream that I can wake up from and see him lying next to me…

Harry:

It's fucking frustrating, when you can't do anything but sick back and watch the woman you love as she drowns in her sorrow. You want to make her believe you are there, but how can you do that, when you aren't even sure why. You hold her until she cries herself to sleep or someone interrupts you. You wish you were there for more than minutes at a time. You wish…

Ron woke early the next morning, next to Luan, wishing that the previous day was just a dream. The unfortunate thing was he knew it wasn't and he didn't want to deal with this day. He rolled over and curled himself against Luna. He could smell her shampoo and for a while he just enjoyed the moment.

“What do we do now?” she whispered after awhile.

“We have to make arrangements.” Ron said sullenly.

“I think the article I wrote will be in the Quibbler today. I asked that condolences be sent to the Burrow. I didn't want Hermione to see it all. I was afraid she might not take it well.”

“Thank you.” Ron said, “I don't know if I would have been able to handle it as well.”

“We should get up, I'm sure your mum is working on breakfast and we have to meet with the funeral directors some time today. “ Luna paused, saying things like that made it so final. “I'm going to take a shower and get ready for the day. I'd be surprised if there wasn't a press mob outside of St. Mungo's when we go there later today.”

Ron held back a sigh that was stuck in his throat. When it came down to it, he really didn't want to take care of any of the things he knew he was going to have to take care of. But he had been raised to do what he had to do and frankly, he would have done just about anything for Harry, even if that meant excepting his death and moving on with the necessary arrangements.

“You realize that if you do this, there is no turning back?” Ron asked, holding his glass between his hands, anchoring him to the bar where they sat.

“Ron, if I don't do this, nothing will ever be normal.” Harry muttered, after taking a swig of his whiskey. “I've loved her in so many ways for so long, I don't think there is a way I could give myself to anyone else, it wouldn't be whole at least.”

Harry fiddled with his glass, his fingers moving over the smooth contours of the glass.

Ron let himself think of it for a second. What could they do? They were about as in love as any two people could ever be. He was happy for them. Despite everything, the war, their own stubbornness, they had managed to make it work.

“If you hurt her in anyway, you know I'll have your head.” Ron said, smiling as he threatened his best friend and brother. He knew that Harry would never hurt her. He knew that Harry had all the power in the world to hurt her.

“I'm afraid if I don't do this, it would hurt her.” Harry smiled back at Ron.

“That's probably very true; she seems to love you for whatever reason.”

“Yeah, poor girl, I can't see why. I'm not attractive, I'm on a hit list of a psycho and my best friend has the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.” Harry laughed at his own humor, but sobered quickly.

“Ron, this is so fucking clichéd to even ask, and I know the answer, but-“ Harry paused, how did a moment full of levity turn into such a depressing moment?

“Of course I will.” Ron answered before the question was even asked.

“I should wake Hermione up; make sure she is getting ready for what the day may bring. She needs to be seen.” Ron looked out the window. “She shouldn't be alone right now either. “

“She's not alone, she has Harry with her.” Luna said her voice confident as she turned the faucet on to the shower.

~*~*~*

Hermione slept soundly after her early morning spook. In fact, upon waking the next morning, she felt like it had just been a dream, nothing more than her grief taking advantage of her dreams. Her eyes felt like sand, though, and she didn't really want to get out of bed. She wanted to stay curled up in her bed and pretend that maybe, today someone one would tell her this had been a plan to give Harry his freedom and that he was really alive and well waiting on an island for her to meet.

Of course, that was just a dream, something that would never be. She choked at the thought.

“If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?” Harry asked one morning when they were laying in bed together. They had decided to spend a morning sleeping in, something that was a precious commodity in the last few weeks.

Hermione thought for a moment, the sun that shone through the window warming her dark hair as Harry played with it.

“An island where no one knows who we are.” She said after much deliberation.

“That could be hard to find.” Harry said, a small smile on his face, after all, much as he tried to pretend otherwise, he knew how famous he really was. “Any particular location for your island, Princess?” He asked, tracing her cheek with his fingertips.

“Anywhere, as long as the weather is reasonably nice and no one could ever find you.” She smiled as she rolled on top of him, letting her hair cascade around him, sheltering them from the outside world.

“You know, I don't think they would allow us to leave, even if I'm successful, they'll always want to see me, to know that their hero is living his life.” Harry said, when a grim voice.

“Maybe I'll just have to figure out a way that they won't look for you…”

Their conversation was too ironic to be true. She knew she was only wishing for a happy ending. Though endings like that can only be found on cellophane.

She lay there for awhile letting her mind wander. Not upon anything in particular, but just wander. She lay on her side, and as she did she could almost feel Harry playing with her hair. His warmth as he wrapped himself around her, she loved it when the cuddled like that. She never felt more protected. She began to cry, the thought of it too much to bear.

“Shh, it'll be alright.” She heard him whisper, making her cry more. “Shh, I'm here, I'll always be here.” She sobbed more. He sounded so real, he felt so real, she didn't want to turn around, afraid that if she moved at all the illusion would be dead and he wouldn't be there anymore. So she lay there, letting her imagination create her Harry, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist that she had found the previous night.

~*~*~*

Ron knocked on Hermione's door and opened it when he heard a slight “come in”. He walked into the room, looking at Hermione, his heart breaking for her.

She was curled up on her bed, playing with a bracelet on her wrist. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked lost and confused.

“Love, you need to get ready for the day. We have to go to St. Mungo's and fill out some paperwork.” Ron said as he sat on the end of her bed. If Ron had been more observant, he would have noticed that the comforter was matted down, almost in the shape of another person.

She didn't respond and Ron got up and kneeled in front of her face.

“Hermione, I know that you don't want to do this, but you need to get up. The world, unfortunately doesn't stop because we want it to. Time doesn't work like.”

“Ron, this morning I swear he was hear. I could hear him and he was holding me.” Hermione whispered. Her voice was a ghost of what it had been, barley above a whisper.

“Hermione, he'll never leave you, not truly, he's a part of you.” Ron tried to give her some comfort. “What you and he had, it was special, and as long as you hold on to that piece of him, you'll always have him.”

“Yeah and he took a part of me with him Ron. I don't know if I'll have that back. “ Hermione said, almost bitterly.

“Hermione, there will be press there today. The announcement has been made in all the papers. You need to be prepared.”

“I know Ron. “

“He wouldn't have left you if he had the choice, you know that.” Ron said.

“I know.” She sat up finally. Her hair was a mess and she looked like death warmed over, but then again who didn't feel like that right now.

“Alright, I'm going to see if Mum has made breakfast and you take a shower. We'll leave as soon as you are ready,” Ron said, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

~*~*~*

Hermione came down to the kitchen looking every bit the mourning wife. She was dressed in complete black, her hair was in a bun and she had a handkerchief ready. She looked too composed, Ron was almost scared. Ron was alone, Luna was still getting some things ready and owling some reporters of the Quibbler, letting them know that she would prefer it if they did not try and press Hermione for an interview. They would get their story. His Mum had flooed home to get his father and meet them back here.

And as soon as she walked in the kitchen her face got pale.

“I think I'm going to wait in the parlor. I don't think I can eat anything.” She said as she rushed out.

Ron watched her go, suddenly loosing his appetite as well. He suddenly felt guilty, eating a breakfast like this when Harry couldn't- He stopped, that way lead only to destruction.

Ron cleared his breakfast and walked to the parlor. Hermione was taking long deep breaths, her hand on her stomach. She was staring out the window, watching the cars pass by. Whereas yesterday had been a depressingly rainy day, today was beautifully sunny.

“Hermione, are you sure you're okay?” Ron asked, worried that his friend may have caught flu when she was outside the night before.

“I'm fine Ron; I'm just a jumble of nerves, that's all.” She said, straining for a smile, though that was impossible.

“Ron.” A voice from the kitchen yelled. It was his parents.

“We're in the parlor.” Ron answered back, giving Hermione one last look.

Hermione watched as Molly and Arthur walked into the parlor, carefully trying to hide their sadness with a smile on their faces.

“Hermione, are you feeling any better?” Molly asked, as she bent down to give her a hug. Hermione nodded, trying to put the morning behind her and focus on what lay ahead for the day. Ron looked at his mum with a question in his eye.

“Yes, thank you Molly.” Hermione answered, before Ron got a chance to inquire, though she wished she could just go back to her room. She didn't want to hear the condolences over and over again.

Luna came into the room a few seconds later, breaking what had become an uncomfortable silence. None of them were sure what to do with themselves.

“So, are we ready to go?” She asked, as she straightened Ron's clothes for him.

“Yes, the Ministry sent a car over, its waiting outside for us.” Arthur said. And with that they walked out the door.

~*~*~*

The ride to the St. Mungos had been a somber and quiet one. No one spoke and the radio had been tuned to a station that played only classical music. No commentary were heard or if they were, no one paid attention. Hermione sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring out the window the entire time. She didn't hear Ron and Luna's hushed voices discussing where the best place to get out was. Certainly, they didn't want Hermione to feel pressured by the press, however, they knew they couldn't continue to sneak around them. They would want to see her and at least here someone say that everything would be alright, even if their hero had died. They had decided that they would go in the main entrance. They would leave comments short and sweet, letting them know that a major press release regarding the major details would be given at a later time.

They soon pulled up to St. Mungo's and sure enough, there was press from all the wizarding world's news syndicates. They had been waiting and Ron knew someone inside St. Mungos was paid handsomely for their arrival information. Arthur was the first to exit the car followed by Molly. Luna was the next to exit the car with Ron trailing her and offering a hand to Hermione. As soon as Hermione got out of the car, the flashbulbs started to go off.

Hermione exited the car in a graceful manner, the manner of someone controlling every move she made and making sure that she looked composed. A podium had been set up for their use and Ron escorted Hermione to stand directly behind the podium. Luna was first on the microphone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Luna said, waiting as the crowd begin to quite. “I am sure you all understand what a difficult time this is for Mrs. Potter. Before she takes any questions, if she wants, I would like to brief you on the situation that is at hand. First, as I am sure everyone is aware, Harry Potter was taken off life supporting spells last night. It was done with the consent of Mrs. Potter. The family will be planning a memorial and funeral service, the details of which are yet to be worked out. With that being said,” Luna gestured to the awaiting reporters as Hermione walked up to stand next to Luna, “We'll take your questions.”

The crowd burst with questions and Luna pointed to the a young wizard standing in the middle of the group, “Mrs. Potter, first I would like to offer my condolences, your husband was a great man. That being said, will his funeral be public?”

”My husband fought for all of us and triumphed in the name of all that was good. I don't think a private funeral is too much to ask. However, their will be a memorial service in honor of him, the date still unknown. This service will be open to the public.” Hermione offered her voice giving away her unease only when mentioning the word funeral.

“Mrs. Potter, Bill Tippin from the Salem Times, I too offer my condolences.” A wizard in his twenties offered when Luna selected him, his accent giving away his American origins. “Of course everyone here is curious what happened at the final battle. Will the information be made public and was Harry's death caused by the former Terrorist Tom Riddle?”

This was the question that Hermione was dreading to answer. What had happened at the final battle? She shuddered to think about how she found him- it flashed before her eyes, a sight she would never forget, how he seemed to disappear, her grief overtaking her… She shook her head, banishing those thoughts as she couldn't help but smile for her husband's triumph. Apparently Voldemort's true name had been released to the press and this American had chosen to use it. Harry would have been proud.

“ The information regarding the final battle, is as far as I know still classified information. That being said, I know my husband would have appreciated your use of Tom Riddle's name.”

The group of journalists seemed to be disappointed in every answer they were receiving, or not receiving when put more aptly. A murmur was running through the crowd of reporters. Finally, without being called upon, a woman's voice rang through the air.

“Mrs. Potter, what prompted you to end your husband's life last night?” Hermione was taken aback, she didn't know what to do about what she had just been asked. She didn't- her breath was coming in short breaths, Luna moved in front of the microphone as Ron slowly backed Hermione away.

“Ms. Skeeter, I'm sure you are aware, as are your readers, that Harry was on life sustaining spells, without these spells he would not have been able to survive on his own. He specifically asked that he was never to be placed in that situation, letting him sustain life in that manner for a month was pushing the limit.” Luna said, shooting icicles at the woman.

“I see,” She merely replied letting her quill skim over her parchment.

However, few noticed that Hermione was still having problems calming herself, they were too busy watching the exchange between Luna and Rita Skeeter. Ron decided it would be best to take her into the lobby of St. Mungo's. It was dark when they first stepped in, the bright light from outside making it difficult to adjust to the dimmer inside.

“Mrs. Potter,” A nurse said as she came up to them. “Let's get you to a room.” Hermione tried to shake her head, she didn't want to get examined.

“Ron-“ She gasped, trying to tell him she was okay.

“No, Hermione, you're not going to win this one. You need to be examined. Something isn't right, you've been sick.” Ron said, firmly as he helped the nurse escort into an examining room.

”Mr. Weasley, I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside.” The nurse asked, while she prepped the room, resetting talismans and other magical objects.

“Alright,” He answered, turning to Hermione, “I'll be outside if you need anything.”

Hermione just scowled at him, but nodded.

“Mrs. Potter, I'm just going to cast a mild calming charm, before I check you out further.” The nurse said, as she cast the charm. A turquoise blue surrounded Hermione and she felt her breathing calm.

“That's all I need.” Hermione said, trying to stand up and walk out of the room.

“I understand that you may not want to be checked out, but Mr. Weasley already contacted us, to ask if we could possibly check you over, just as a precaution. He said you were outside in the rain last night. And while, I know you know that their really is no harm it that, he was concerned.”

“As you said, Nurse,” Hermione paused to read the nurse's tag, “Nurse Simton, I was outside in the rain and I've just lost my husband. I'm sure in your medical study you've heard of Post Traumatic Stress as well as grieving? That being said, I am as fine as I am likely to be and would like to leave.”

“I would advise you not to do that,” the nurse warned, though she stepped away from the door, a hint of shame in her voice as she was just scolded by the most famous and arguably powerful witch in the wizarding world.

“Your advice has been noted.” Hermione said, whisking from the room. She ran right into Ron, whom she would have killed if Luna had not stepped into her line of vision.

“Hermione, the Mediwizard is ready to meet us in his office,” Luna said, giving Ron a questioning look. He merely shook his head and looked at her with a promise that they would talk about this later.

~*~*~*~

Hermione sat in front of the parchments she was supposed to be signing. The quill was balanced in her hand. She sat there, wondering how it had been easier to go into battle than it was for her to sign these damn papers.

“Because, once you do that, it becomes official, you are a widow and your husband is truly gone.” She sat there, closing her eyes to the millions of thoughts that were intruding.

Mediwizard Brunner had been kind enough to leave the room after explaining everything that was going to happen in the next few days. Harry would be prepared for- The funeral could take place next week, as Ron had suggested, wanting to make sure that Lupin was able to be there. The traditions and wishes for the funeral had already been decided upon, Hermione was reminded. They had done that weeks after they were married, as a precaution, should anything happen and both were incapacitated. Hermione didn't know whether to be grateful that they had already had everything in order or whether to be sick and see it as some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. All she had to do was sign this damned piece of parchment and Harry's estate would transfer to her name completely, though most of it was already in her name anyway. She raised her hand shaking, over the document and set her quill down to the parchment. She signed, pausing over her last name as she wrote “Potter”. She remembered how she felt the first time she had been able to use his name. She remembered how everyone had assumed that she would keep her maiden name, professionally, Harry had even agreed it would have been okay with him, but she wanted nothing more than to let the whole world know that she was with him.

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly as they were enjoying their dessert. It was her birthday and Harry had insisted they go out to dinner, even with all the chaos that was under way.

“Hmm.” She said, looking into his eyes, she saw something different, what exactly it was, she wasn't sure.

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you” He smiled holding something out in his hand as he got down on one knee in front of her. She could feel her self stop breathing. “Will you marry me?” He asked, quietly almost afraid that he would scare her away with his question.

“Harry, are you?” She couldn't, she didn't even know what to say. Say yes! Her brain told her. “Yes, of course, I will.” She said, her eyes filling with tears. He slipped the ring on her finger, and she felt the weight of it on her hand, foreign but so welcome.

Later that night, they had been walking home, and Hermione was staring at her hand watching the light catching the marquis diamond. She couldn't help but feel like a little kid, giggling like a school girl at the sight.

“What's so funny?” Harry asked.

“Nothing, I'm just so happy, I can hardly hold it in.” Hermione answered, turning her face to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I'm glad, I was afraid you would say no or something.” Harry confessed.

“Harry, why on earth would I say no?”

“I don't know, its just the thought that goes through your head when you ask someone to marry you. I was ready to have to convince you, tell you that you could keep your name and everything.” Harry said a bit.

“No” Hermione merely said.

“No what?” Harry asked as he stopped mid-stride.

“No, I want your name. I want the world to know that I am Mrs. Potter. My name doesn't change who I am. But, it does let the world know that I promise to be yours and you promise to be mine until the end of time.”

She signed the parchment, looking at her name, her ring, and wondering where she could go from here. Who was she now, without him?

~*~*~*~*~

Day 7 Month 1, Year 1 AV

The week had passed with little commotion. Hermione spent most of the time she wasn't required staring out windows and sitting silently in a chair. She still looked pale and wasn't able to keep much down most of the day. Ron was worried about her, but he didn't know what he could do if she refused to get help. So he watched her move around the house, like a ghost, answering all the right questions and putting forth all the right effort. The memorial was to be held today and the funeral the day after. Ron hadn't seen Hermione go into or out of her bedroom since the press conference at St. Mungo's, something which worried him as well.

The morning was overcast, but the sun was shining just enough to wake Hermione from her restless sleep in the library. She must have finally fallen asleep sometime, though she couldn't exactly remember when. She couldn't sleep, she was too full of regrets and anxiety. It felt wrong to sleep in her room when Harry wasn't there for her. She didn't know exactly what she was going to do. She didn't want to go to the memorial today. She really didn't want to say goodbye. If one thing about the past week had been clear, it had been that Hermione still wasn't sure she believed he would never be back in this house. She stretched a little before sitting up. The library's deep mahogany woodwork shining under the peaks of sun that it would receive. She folded the blanket and set it back where it belonged on top of the ottoman that stood at the foot of the oversized arm chair she had fallen asleep in.

Walking up to her room, she felt dizzy, but she shook the feeling with a few deep breaths. She walked through the double doors, barely looking around as she walked into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, listening to the water falling, she climbed into the shower, eyes closed as she mechanically washed. She had finished, when she grabbed her towel and stepped out of the shower, and than, everything changed.

“Hermione?” Hermione looked up to see, well it was Harry.

“Harry?” she gasped, one hand shaking as she brought it to her face.

“Hermione, where have you been?” He asked, stunned to see her.

“I've been here.” She whispered, though it was getting more difficult to breath.

“Not in here though.” He said, “I've been waiting for you. I love you”

“Harry,” She closed her eyes as she answered, “you're dead, you're not here.”

“Hermione,” Harry answered, but it was too late, and he was too slow as Hermione fell to the ground, her head hitting the sink.

He tried to move, but the next thing he knew, he too was gone…

~*~*~*~*

Day 9, Month 1, Year 1 AV

Hermione opened her eyes, tears coming to them as the light stung her eyes. She moaned at the feeling.

“Mrs. Potter” A friendly voice said. “Mrs. Potter, how are you doing?”

“Harry?” Hermione murmured. Her head was throbbing a bit.

“Shh, Mrs. Potter, My name is Madam Tinley”

She finally managed to open her eyes, and was confused. This wasn't her room, this wasn't even her house. “Where am I?” She asked.

“You're at St. Mungo's.”

“Oh,” and then it came rushing back to her. The shower, turning around, Harry had been there. He had been real. He had asked her where she had been.

“Mrs. Potter, you were brought in by your friends Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Apparently, you fell in your bathroom. We had to run some diagnostic tests. Mrs. Potter, were you aware that you are pregnant?”

“What?” Hermione, could only ask. She moved her hands instinctively to her abdomen. She tried to make sense of it, surely she would have known by now. Hadn't she-no she hadn't had her period, but she thought it was stress. She hadn't been having a regular cycle since the war got increasingly dangerous.

“Mrs. Potter, you are pregnant with twins. But when you fell, well your breathing was minimal and the Mediwizard is worried that you may have complications because of your fall. You are going to have to be on bed rest when we release you.” She paused, letting Hermione receive the information before continuing. “Mr. Weasley is waiting in the family room. I'm going to let him know you are awake. Would you like to see him?”

Hermione nodded, her brain still absorbing what she had just been told. She was pregnant, they were Harry's last gift to her. She was, it was, bittersweet. She couldn't be happy, not when she knew that her beloved would never see his children, yet, she had him in this small gift. She burst into tears.

A pained look crossed Ron's face as he walked into the room. He centered himself before he started, “Hermione, thank god.” He said as walked in and sat next to her bed. “Hermione, the nurse, she told you everything right?” Ron questioned.

“Yes, I-“ She didn't know what to say to this. Her voice cracked and more tears ran down her face.

“Shh, it'll be alright love. Thank god Luna found you when she did. The Mediwizard said that if much more time had passed you may have-“ He stopped not wanting to add more loss to the long list they had already compiled. “Do you remember what happened?”

She remembered, but how could she tell him that she saw Harry? How could she say that she was going crazy? “I, uh, I got dizzy and I don't know what happened after that.”

Ron looked at her, “Luna is getting everything ready for you at home. The Mediwizard said you have to stay in bed, so Luna is making your room comfortable. She's making sure that you have enough books and such. The Mediwizards said they would release you this afternoon, so, we'll take you home.”

Hermione barely listened, her head was too full of everything that had happened. She was pregnant, she was crazy. She merely nodded when it seemed appropriate as Ron and the nurse explained what was going to happen in the next few days. She barely heard Ron say that they had continued with the memorial, but they would wait on the funeral if she wanted. Hermione spoke up enough to say she couldn't sit through the funeral and that they should go ahead a reschedule it and give everyone her condolences. She also asked that no one know that she was pregnant besides the Weasleys. She was pregnant…She smiled, but it was a smile that was filled with fear.

“I'm going to leave so the nurse can help you get ready to leave.” Ron said, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

~*~*~*~

A/N: Well, there you have the first big reveal of the story. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I'm sorry that this is taking so long to get out, I'm really excited about the story, but when I sit down to right it, I've been getting distracted. Fear not, however, this story is in my head and will be finished. I'm hoping I'll get the next chapter out within a couple of weeks. Please leave reviews if you have the time, I know I appreciate it immensely!

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A/N: First, thanks again to everyone who is reviewing this story that wont die. I especially want to thank Schokki (I think I spelled that right!) and anyone else who withstood the long wait between chapters one and two, for sticking with the story. I also do not own the characters in this story. They are JKR's, I'm just entertaining myself and those who choose to read this story of mine. I'm not hoping to make even a cent from this story… Though reviews are welcome!

Chapter 3: Back Door Man

If I had the chance love

I would not hesitate

To tell you all the things I'd never said before,

Don't tell me its too late

Because I've relied on my illusions

To keep me warm at night

I delight in my capacity to loves

I am willing to give up this fight… Dirty Little Secret ~Sarah McLachlan

Day 14, Week 2, Year 1 AV

Hermione:

Pregnant. All I could think about was how much I wish Harry was here to tell. How much I wished I could have seen his face. I even think about how I should tell him. He comes to me, and I've tried to ignore him, tried to tell myself that he isn't here and I should ignore him. But, how can I ignore him any longer, knowing what I know?

Harry:

Sometimes its so hard being here. She ignores me, tells me I'm not in front of her. But I come back, every day, wanting to save her. Wanting to do whatever it is I can for her. She'll talk to me, sometimes, but she doesn't believe I'm here. How do I help her when she doesn't even believe me anymore?

It didn't take long for Hermione to become bored out of her mind on bed rest. Two weeks since Harry's death. But in those two weeks, her life changed so much that she really thought it may has well have been two years. She didn't really have much to do and Ron and Luna had taken a mini-vacation to parts unknown to take a break from life. She couldn't really fault them for it however, after all, they had been fighting evil since they were eleven. They should finally be allowed to have a vacation.

Dobby of course, was attentive, but he lacked the conversation that Hermione needed, and in the end, it really was no wonder that she began to talk to the apparitions of Harry that she saw. It had started one day, simply after writing in her journal. Something that she had begun after his death. It helped her clear her mind and made it a little bit easier for her to cope with what was happening in her life. She had been writing about her pregnancy. And how much she wished she could tell him, when suddenly he was there.

In that moment, she knew she couldn't ignore him any longer. She didn't tell him then and there, though she wanted to, a part of her still couldn't believe that it was healthy to be seeing her dead husband. Instead, she fell into his embrace and cried. He felt so real, Hermione swore she must be imaging him, but what did it matter?

She had seen him a few times since, he came and went, he changed his clothes and always looked put together, nothing like he had when he died. Hermione looked forward to his visits, but with every one, she feared that she was losing her sanity.

“Love, why are you so troubled?”

Hermione looked up recognizing his voice and smiling. He sat down next to her on their bed. “I'm fine.” She said as she smiled. “No, you're not. How long have I known you? I know your looks each and every one of them. Besides, you haven't moved from this bed, at least not that I've seen.” He asked.

“Well, it's not like you are actually here all the time! Is it?” Hermione countered, her guilt at having not told him yet, making her feel guilty.

“That's not fair!”

“No, what's not fair is that I-“ She stopped, this wasn't how she wanted to tell him. This isn't what she wanted. She wanted him to be there for her. “I'm alone. That you aren't here when I need you to be.”

“Hermione,” he looked wounded. And though that was what she had been aiming for, it did not make her feel any better, in fact, it made her feel worse. “I would be here every second if I could.”

She sighed, she knew she was being unfair, and she really didn't have it in her to keep up this fight with him. “I know. It's just, I'm so lonely here without you.”

“Hermione, what's going on?”

“Harry,” She paused. This was a figment of her imagination and she couldn't even tell him, some Gryffindor she made. “Harry, I'm pregnant.”

Harry just stared at her.

“Harry, say something!” She pleaded.

“What can I say?” She looked at him, what did she want him to say? What could be said?

“I don't know. Tell me you're at least happy.” She wished.

“How could I not be happy?” Harry said, brushing hair out of her eyes. “But what does this mean for us? How are we going to raise this child.”

“Children.” Hermione corrected.

“As in twins?” Harry asked, a goofy smile finding his face.

“Yes, though I don't want to know if they are boys or girls. I just want to pick a list of names and then we can use the names we want when they are born.”

“Twins.” He paused. “Wow.”

“Yes, well, your twins are the reason I'm in bed right now. Apparently, the Mediwizard is afraid something may happen and has therefore banished me to bed.”

“I'm so sorry, that I can't do anything for you, Hermione.” He said, kissing her.

“You've done everything for me. You've given me the greatest gift you ever could have.”

“But-“

“No buts-“

“So what do we name them?” Harry asked. But he could tell his wife was starting to relax under his touch. She would be asleep within a few minutes, his experience told him.

“Hmm-Later” She mumbled as she dosed off.

Harry soon felt himself falling into sleep, the soothing strokes on her arm, relaxing him as well.

“You know, one day, it will be like this forever. We'll actually take this peace and quiet for granted.” Harry's statement made Hermione turn.

“Oh, I don't think I could ever take you or this for granted.”

“You may say that now, but when I win this war, we'll get sick and tired of each other and start bickering until we become an old married couple who only talk about the weather and can't even agree on that!” Harry said with a smile.

“Is that what you think? Well, I'll have you know, that I think we are going to have a house full of kids, and peace and quiet is the last thing we will get for a long time.”

“A house full of kids,” Harry smiled, “ I do like the sound of that.”

“mmm- So do I.”

“Hermione, you have to promise me. Promise me that you will stay away from the battle.”

“Mr. Potter-“ Someone shook his shoulder. He woke from the memory, one that chilled him to the bone. He looked around the dark hospital room, knowing before he was told what time it was. “Mr. Potter, visiting hours are over and you really should go home and get some rest.” Harry looked up at the Nurse, smiling at her and nodding. He had put up a fight at first, but they had eventually convinced him that he wouldn't do her any good if he was sick from exhaustion.

”You'll call if anything changes?” Harry asked the nurse.

“As always, Mr. Potter.” She said, picking up his cloak and handing it to him. Harry took it absentmindedly and turned back to Hermione's pale form, bending down to give her a kiss, while his hand lingered over her abdomen.

“I still can't believe she's pregnant. Are you sure the children will be fine with the condition she's in?”

“Mr. Potter, we can never be sure of much in cases such as your wife's. If we had experience with what she was cursed with, we would be able to guarantee something. But, we do know that aside from your wife's delusional and comatose states, she is healthy. The babies are currently up to all the health standards they should be at this age. Now, go, get something to eat.”

Harry nodded again, and walked out of the door. He was familiar with this walk, having spent the better part of two weeks spending his free time at this place. They had put her in a special section of St. Mungo's, a private wing, that was free from the pity-filled glances he would receive from those who recognized him and knew his story. He, with Luna and Ron's help, had let the press know that, yes, his wife was sick. But that no one was giving up hope. But, after the interview, Harry had been careful to keep out of the public spotlight. He didn't want to have to worry about ceremonies and proclamations when he could be spending time with her.

So, Ron had been kind enough to take care of his official duties on his behalf. Ron had attended multiple ceremonies for him and frankly, he was grateful to have his best friend at his side.

“Well, at least one best friend.” His brain reminded him. Not that he needed reminding that his best friend, wife, heart, was stuck in some unknown hell that could not be fixed.

By the time Harry had reached the apparition point, he knew that the nurse had been right and he could feel his hunger taking over. He usually tried to have a small breakfast before he came to the hospital, but he rarely took lunch, finding it impossible to tear himself away from Hermione. He never knew when she was going to be lucid, well, as lucid as she was these days. Whenever she was awake, she thought she was imagining his presence.

The thing that puzzled Harry the most, was that she just woke up one day, a month after the battle, insisting he was dead. She had been having nightmares since the final battle, and to be honest, he had been too. So when the she spent the day in bed after he went to a meeting with Ministry officials, he didn't think much of it. He still hated the fact that he hadn't woken her that morning to tell her that he loved her. But even more than the hate he felt for himself for having not woken her, he felt that if he had only been quicker, if only he had stopped Voldemort just a few seconds sooner…

It was over. An eerie silence had filled the battle field, although, the fact that a place as sacred to Harry as Hogwarts, was a battle field, filled him with regret. The Death Eaters still alive had mostly been captured, too weak without the influence of their master to continue. Whereas the last time they could still feel his presence in their mark, this time, there was no doubting that the Boy-Who-Lived had vanquished their master. Harry was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep yet. He had to make sure she was alright. He had to find her and Ron. The only thing that had kept him going was the hope and thoughts that his best friends were still alive. They were the only thing that truly made this battle worth his while.

He made his way over the destruction. Fog wising from the ground. It wasn't a cold night, but the rain that had fallen earlier put a chill in his bones. The tent where Hermione and Ron had been instructed to oversee battle plans had been destroyed and Harry felt his stomach drop in trepidation.

“Harry, mate!” Ron came running up to him, hugging his best friend. “Thank God!”

“Ron, I-“ How did he ask this without sounding like he was only concerned about her?

“She's fine, Harry. She was hit with something, we're not sure what it was, and I killed Bellatrix before we were able to find out what it was. She was knocked out, but the Mediwitch woke her without a problem. She's a tough one, your Hermione” Ron said, as he led him to her. A temporary triage had been set up on the field, and Harry wondered how many people would be treated here. How many would be able to say they survived the battle against Voldemort?

“How about Luna? Is she okay?” Harry asked, hoping for his friend's sake that his wife wasn't harmed.

“For all that girl's head is in the sky, she somehow comes out of these situations without a scratch on her.” Ron said, a note of pride in his voice. “She's with Tonks and Remus. They made it through their missions with a few minor injuries. She's already portkeyed them back to Grimmauld.” Ron said as they finally reached the area where Hermione was being checked over.

Before she saw him, Harry took the moment to quietly observe his wife. She had something on her face, her hair falling out of the plait that she had it in. She was arguing with the Mediwitch, most likely refusing help until she knew if Harry was okay. He smiled as he realized just how beautiful she was. She shone from the inside out.

“Excuse me,” Harry interrupted, “Would it be possible for me to take my wife home now?” Harry asked. Of course, no one would argue with him.

Hermione jumped up into his arms, peppering him with kisses. “You did it! Oh, Harry, thank god, you did it.” He moaned as she caught one of his many bruises in her embrace. “Oh, you're hurt.” She moved away from him. “We can't go home until the Mediwitch has checked you over!” And she maneuvered Harry onto the cot that she had been sitting on.

Harry had let the Mediwitch take care of him and then, without fuss, and taken his wife home. It had been a bittersweet evening, Tonks and Remus would be fine, but they had been given a sleeping draught to let them fully recover. Harry and Hermione had gone to bed early, both exhausted from their efforts that day and the efforts of the past years. Finally, they had their peace.

That month, before she got sick, had been the best of Harry's life. After the debriefing with the Ministry, Harry had been able to relax and finally get to spend time with his wife. They had lounged about the manor, gone on dates without the fear that they should disguise themselves. It was like they had been given a new life. But something in Harry's heart told him that Hermione was already slipping away from him. Looking back, as often was the case, he could see the signs more clearly. They were small moments, ones which, could not have been taken for anything more than what they were at the time. Nothing to incite suspicion, until it was too late…

They had just been to the theater, having seen one of Hermione's favorite symphonies. If Harry had to be asked, he would have said that it was torture, but secretly he loved watching his wife enjoy the show.

But having left the show, she had been quiet, almost subdued. Harry, who was busy giving the driver directions back to Grimmauld place, let her stare out the window, though he was curious. The rain was coming down in sheets. He would have to conjure an umbrella for them both.

As they arrived home, she seemed to still be in her contemplative mood. Harry knew her well enough to know that she sometimes needed her space. He watched as she trailed her hand along the mahogany stairwell as she made her way to their room.

“How was the symphony?” Ron asked.

“It was-“ Harry paused, still puzzled by his wife's behavior. “Ron, it is Hermione's favorite, yet the entire ride home, she was quiet as a church mouse. I'm a bit worried about her.”

“Quiet? Well that's a bit a strange, but-“ Ron shrugged. He had noticed the way Hermione would sometimes enter the room, and seek him out before she even acknowledged Harry's presence. Almost as if he wasn't there.

“Ron, what if she's” Harry said, not trusting himself to finish the statement. There was no way she could be having an affair, but the little boy who had been told he wasn't good enough was still alive in Harry's soul.

“You know that's bollocks, Harry.” Ron said. “She's probably got a lot on her mind and you said so yourself, she hasn't been sleeping any more than you or I have been able to.”

It was true, Harry and Ron, and Hermione (Harry suspected) had been having nightmares. Of course, Harry felt blessed that they were regular old nightmares that were perfectly normal after everything that they had been through.

“Well, whatever the case is, I'm worried.” He sighed. “I have to go into the ministry early tomorrow. Can you make sure she's okay tomorrow at breakfast?”

“Of course Harry.” Ron was unsettled by what his friend had almost suggested. He knew Harry must be having extreme fears about whatever plagued his wife's thoughts.

Harry noticed that she was wearing a jumper of his, something that comforted him. However, he was discomforted by the way she sat in her chair by the window, a throw over her lap, as if she was freezing. She had a look of melancholy on her face, and she looked utterly lost.

Harry watched, as tears streamed down her face, and his heart positively ached for whatever it was that was tormenting her.

It was some time before she turned suddenly and looked at the chair to her side. Harry tried to call out her name. But she didn't respond, she just looked like she had seen a ghost. Harry would have done something more drastic, but was joined by Ron, who had see the escalating situation from the hallway.

“Hermione?” She turned her head, catching the chair out of the corner of her eye. He was there. His messy black hair clashing against the white, “Hermione?” That wasn't Harry's voice. But she couldn't stop staring. It was him, his green eyes looking at her, confusion in his eyes. Footsteps walked up behind her. “Hermione,” a hand on her shoulder, she looked up, it was Ron. She looked back at Harry, but the chair was empty.

“Hermione, what are you staring at?” Ron asked, concern etched in his voice.

“Nothing, Ron. It was nothing.”

At this, Ron looked at his best friend. Harry looked as if he was going to be sick. Ron looked at Hermione as she stood up, noting the jumper of Harry's that she wore. She started walking to the bed, and when she didn't acknowledge Harry a look of pity and confusion crossed Ron's face.

“This was the closest thing I had to him hugging me.” She murmured, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Ron looked at Harry, unsure what could be said. And Harry, just looked at him back, praying to God, that there was some reason for her strange behavior.

The next morning, Harry had left without waking her, in some state of denial that maybe she just needed to sleep off whatever it was that had her acting so strange the night before.

It was when he came home, the rain had lasted the entire day. When he asked Ron where Hermione was, he said he assumed she was in their room. He had made it to their bedroom, after having searched the house with no trace of Hermione. He was looking out the window, wondering where on earth his wife could be, when he hear Ron's voice from the downstairs hall.

“I found her!” She was mumbling in his arms.

“She's burning up with a fever Harry. We need to take her to St. Mungo's.” Ron said, as Harry took her from his arms and apparated them to St. Mungo's where the long day became an even longer night.

Since that evening, Hermione had had conversations with Ron, Luna, even Molly and in each one, she insisted he was dead. Regardless of what they said to the contrary, if Hermione was having a conversation, it was one in which she claimed he was dead. When Harry went to see her, he found that she would ignore him, or try and tell him he was a ghost, as if trying to assist him in his crossover.

Ron was waiting for him in the kitchen of Grimmauld as he came home.

“Mum brought food over again. She's worried about you.” Ron said, sitting in a chair heavily as Harry heated what Molly had brought over. “The ministry is getting anxious, they want help. They still haven't been able to catch Malfoy or Snape. They think, maybe, if you were to help with the investigation the pair would be spooked into doing something stupid.”

Harry only took in half of what Ron said. Instead, he sat in his chair, poking at the food. Eating what he could, without tasting much of it.

“Ron, she's pregnant.” Harry finally said. Harry looked up at his best friend. “Moreover, she's pregnant with twins and thinks I'm dead and won't be their to help her. She's so alone, even when I am with her, even when she decides that she going to talk to me.” Harry's voice was breaking over the words that he was sharing with Ron. “IT'S NOT FAIR DAMNIT!” Harry roared as he pushed himself away from the table, swiping at the dishes. The china clattered to the floor, but didn't shatter, as Ron quickly cast a bounce charm on them. The bounced, softly to a stop on the floor. “THE MINISTRY WANTS ME TO DO WHAT? PRETEND MY WIFE'S OKAY? TO STEP IN AND SOLVE THEIR PROBLEMS?” Harry was pacing the floor, walking back and forth, like a tormented man.

“Harry, no one doubts what you are going through, but-“

“DON'T SAY IT RON!”

“Harry, she doesn't know when you are there. She doesn't know that you are there half the time.”

“I PROMISED HER!” Harry yelled, flairs of magic popping off of him. It was at this he realized that he need to calm down. “ I promised her to be by her side through sickness and-“ Sobs started coming from Harry, great unmanly sobs, ones which could only be shared with one's best friend.

“Alright, Harry, alright. I'll get them to lay off for awhile.”

“Why does she think I'm gone? She at least acknowledges your presence. She doesn't believe what you say, but she acknowledges your hugs, and you are with her, in her dreams. She lives a fucking fantasy hell where she sees you taking actions.”

He sighed, it hurt so much to hear what his wife was going through, yet have no idea how his intelligent Hermione could believe such a farce.

“She tells me how supportive you've been. How you took care of all my arrangements. That Luna covered the press, that you were with me when I died. She tells me all these things, as if to comfort my un-rested spirit, but she doesn't know that it only torments me to here her say those things, believing in her heart that I'm dead.” His head rested in his hands, and he realized that he hadn't meant to say those things to his friend. He hadn't meant to make his friend feel guilty.

“I'm sorry Ron. I didn't mean to-“ Harry said sheepishly, looking up at Ron as if afraid he was going to loose his best friend.

“Don't worry mate, I know.” Ron said, putting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

“I need to get out of here. I can't stay here with-“ He just motioned, his thoughts, not sure what it was he couldn't abide at the moment. Ron just nodded, he knew that Harry would most likely find himself aside his parent's gravesite. A place he often went when he was troubled. He would most likely have a bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey with him and would most likely be gone until dawn. He would apperate home, take a shower, and apparate to St. Mungo's having gotten little sleep.

Ron wondered as his friend apperated, if their life had been easier before or after Voldemort's death. Life wasn't what they had hoped it would be. And if he was asked, he wasn't sure he what he would wish to have back. A life with the monster and constant threats, or this so-called life they had now…

A/N: Well, there you have it! Harry is not a ghost and not dead. For those of you asking about the time, I use that method for two reasons: 1. Hermione has no idea of time. 2. I'm really bad at just picking random dates, this allows me the freedom to choose a time, without committing to a specific month or day of the week. I know its weird, but it's just something I'm neurotic about.

As for the big reveal in this chapter, I hope it makes sense. So far, we've been playing in Hermione's happy little nightmare. We should be in Harry's world most of the next chapter… Though, who knows….

Finally, I wanted to thank everyone again, for reading this work of craziness. It's fun and I like writing it. I apologize that the chapters don't come out very quickly but when I finally get into the chapters, they flow. This chapter was only 1/3 of what it is now less than 36 hours ago! Suddenly, I found my pace and jumped on it. As for grammar and other mistakes, I apologize for them, but like to get the chapters to my wonderful readers ASAP!

Thanks again!

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A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed. I don't know how on earth I got this chapter written in a week, don't count on this happening all the time! Anyway, I hope you enjoy…

Oh, I do not own these characters, nor do I intend to make any money. I am however, please to receive any reviews!

Chapter 4: Little House

It's over

but just started

Her blood stained the carpet

Her heart like a crystal

She's a lucid and departed

A life left behind

She can't find in her mind

Gone away

Away with these nightmares…

Me and the Moon~ Something Corporate

Day 14, Week 2, Year 1 AV

Harry:

His death at my hand was an end of something. For most, it was the end of death, darkness, and fear. Finally, after years of fear, many could live the lives they had put off without wondering if planning was an idle fantasy. But, for me, it was an end of what had once been. Had I have known what was to come, I can't say I would have been noble enough to go into that battle.

Harry sat at his parent's grave. He knew he should be in his bed, but he couldn't sleep there either. Instead, he chose to be with the two people who had started his destiny. The two people he was told, he was most like in the world. He took a shot of Ogden's. He never got belligerent, never really even got close to drunk, no that would not have pleased Hermione. Instead, he drink just to the precipice of numb, a point where he could still reason, a point where he couldn't feel.

When he was here, he thought of many things, contemplated many lives he could have had, many he should have had, and one he wished he hadn't. He contemplated bitterness, and the luck his parents had to follow each other in death. He couldn't even take comfort in the fact that Hermione thought he was with her. He had abandoned her, in her torment. The one thing he promised never to do and he was not powerful enough to beat whatever it was that plagued her. He had tried everything he could think of and nothing worked. He was a failure.

At this he laughed out loud.

“Laughing out loud to no joke may be a sign of an addled brain.”

Harry looked up, the voice was a familiar one, one which comforted him.

“Remus.” Harry offered up the Ogden's, as Remus Lupin sat next to him. “Have a drink.”

Remus took a small drink. “Harry, what are you going to do when Fall comes? When the nights become to cold for you to sit here, wallowing in pity?”

“I'm not wallowing. And I'm a wizard aren't I?” Harry cast a charm, Hermione's charm, and bluebell fire was warming his and Lupin's hands, for though there was a mild wind from the south, the night itself still was a bit chilly.

“Funny, Harry.” Remus sighed, looking at the graves they sat near. Some would believe a graveyard to be a dark and scary place. But he could understand why Harry found comfort in this place. He often did, as well. Something about the finality of this place. It was consistent. “Seriously though, you are doing no one good, sitting here wishing for things that aren't.”

Harry didn't respond to that. “Remus, did my parents want to have me?” Harry wasn't really sure where such a fatalistic question had come from, and yet, there it was.

“Harry, they always wanted children.” Remus avoided the obvious question. Harry knew why, it wasn't as if he actually believed he was unwanted.

They sat in silence, Harry contemplating his life more.

There were a thousand things Remus wished he could do to comfort his young charge. At just under twenty-three, the young man had been through more than thousands go through in a lifetime, and yet, he was still so unbroken. But, Remus feared, that this too, was something that wouldn't last much longer. The circles under Harry's eyes were getting worse and his skin had lost any color it had once had.

“Remus, Hermione's pregnant.” Harry said, his voice quiet.

Remus didn't have anything to say to this news. What was he to say. Congratulations seemed too tactless for the news, yet something should be said. But he didn't have to say anything, Harry continued.

“She's going to have twins. And I wonder, how we are going to do this? It would be enough of a challenge if we were both around and healthy. But, she's not in any state that she'll be able to take care of those children and I-“ He sighed, “ I don't know if I can be a father to them. At least not the father I wanted to be.”

“Harry, you are such a loyal and caring person. You will give those children of yours a very great life. And well, as for Hermione, I can't promise you anything. It would be foolish for me to tell you fairy tales about how she's going to get better because we don't know that. But what I can say, is that children our the greatest gift we can receive. Don't squander it by wondering if you deserve it.”

Harry looked at Remus, the man would never have children. His illness didn't allow him to. “I'm sorry, Remus, I know I shouldn't-“

“Don't be Harry. I know that you are worried. But I also know that you will be a great father.”

“Thanks.” Harry said, as he stared up at the sky.

“Harry, please, take my advice and go home. Get some sleep.” Remus said, standing up. Harry stood as he did, and gave the man a hug. “I will, tell Tonk's I said hi, will you?”

Remus nodded, and apparated away. Harry sat back down, taking in the tableau in front of him, wondering just how he was going to make it work.

Harry thought about what Remus had said. Was it enough that he loved his children more than he could put into words? Could he do it without Hermione?

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Hermione asked as they sat at her parent's table.

“To be honest, no” Harry sighed, “but, at the same time, I'm not sure that I couldn't go.”

“Harry, do you want me to come with you?” Harry looked at Hermione, her offer surprising him. They had been searching for Voldemort's horcruxes for a little over a year and a month ago, Hermione and Ron decided that it wasn't going to work between them. They bickered more than they ever had as friends, and they realized it was probably more the expectations of others that pushed them together. It wasn't a messy breakup by any means, in fact, Harry was told by Ron, it had been a relief. They didn't have to play act anymore. However, Hermione had still decided that she needed some time alone. Not that she was upset, but she wanted to see her parents, forget about everything for just a month. And Harry, well, he couldn't deny her anything.

Thus, Harry was surprised that, not two weeks after she had left, she was willing to come with. Harry had promised her that he would stop by if he was planning to do anything she would consider dangerous. He figured a trip to Godric's Hallow would be consider dangerous in her book, and therefore, found himself telling her his plans in the middle of her parent's very muggle kitchen.

Sometimes, he really was in awe of her selflessness. “Hermione, you wanted a break, I don't want to take that time away from you.” He said, taking a sip of the tea Hermione had made. The truth was, Harry wasn't sure of anything at the moment. Something had happened in the last couple of months. Harry had noticed a slight shift in thoughts and feelings. Most of the time he didn't notice it, but then, in moments like this, he was confronted with that “something”.

“Harry, one day isn't going to kill me. In fact, it might be kind of nice. Mum and Dad are driving me crazy. Mum keeps treating me like I'm some sort of guest, always asking what I want to eat and apologizing because they have to work. It's silly really.” She stopped and Harry realized she must have thought herself tactless for complaining about parents who were alive and cared about her.

“Har-“ Harry knew he should have kept a stopwatch, he knew she would begin an apology.

“Don't.” Harry said, raising his hand. She merely looked back at him, a sheepish look crossing her face. Harry thought it was cute.

“Alright, let me write a note for Mum and Dad. I'll tell them I won't be back until tomorrow, I don't want them to worry should we run into any problems.” She said as she got up to get a piece of paper. Harry watched her move about her kitchen, and for a moment, he thought it would be nice to see her moving around his kitchen. But as with many thoughts that come on a whim, it was quickly lost to thought that he still hadn't guaranteed a future.

Harry smiled thinking about that day. He really didn't know if he could have visited Godric's Hallow that day, alone. She had been supportive the entire time. She didn't push, and she didn't claim that she knew what he was going through. Instead, she stood by his side and when it became to much, she held him in her arms next to his parent's grave.

Harry felt spent, his tears wouldn't come anymore. However, he was riding another emotional wave, this one was gratitude for his friend. She held him, his head resting on her shoulder , her hands soothing him, running their way up and down his back. He had never felt so content and yet so exhausted in his life. A part of him didn't want to move, but they had been there all night, and they needed to get going if they were to be back at the Grangers at a reasonable time.

He sat up, and it was at that moment that he realized his best friend had been crying too.

“Hermione?” he questioned, reaching up to brush her tear off her cheek.

She smiled. “Do you have any idea how wonderful you are Harry?”

“I'm not wonderful, I'm anything but, look at what I've caused.” He said, his hand stretching over his parent's grave.

He stood, afraid that his emotions were going to take the better of him again. She stood to meet him, looking up just slightly at him. Her eyes were sparkling at they shone from moonlight, and her hair was ever so slightly frizzed from the humid summer night. She looked beautiful, he realized.

Another tear was falling down her face, and Harry reached out to cup her face, wiping it away with his thumb. “Hermione, please don't cry.” He asked, still not sure what would give her cause to cry.

“Harry, you truly are-“ She paused, starting over. “So many people would be bitter about what they had been through, if they were you. So many people, would turn their backs on this world, after all, what has this world given you. And yet, here you are, working to save the world that his given you so little.”

“Hermione, don't make me out to be something I'm not. I don't do this for the world. And I sure as hell don't do it to be hero-worshiped. I do it for the Weasley's. I do it for Remus and Tonks. I do it for Hogwarts and those who we've lost. But mostly, when I stand facing the choice between what is easy and what is right, I think of Ron and you.” He paused, looking at her anew.

“Hermione, it's you.” He whispered, looking into her face and knowing there wasn't going to be any way to turn around from this. Once he put his lips against her soft lips, it would be the end. It should have scared him, should have made him turn around and run away. And yet, there he was, moving closer to her, and she was tilting her head, inviting him to kiss her.

It was a soft kiss, a little more than chaste, but much more intimate than any other kiss he had ever shared. It had nothing to do with how they kissed, they kept it rather kid friendly, and yet, it was as if his soul was touching something in the direction of heaven.

He pulled back, not wanting to break his newfound connection to heaven, and yet, he knew that he had no other option. And yet, the minute he pulled away, Hermione pulled him back. And this time, her kiss was hungry and searching. It felt almost wrong, to be kissing someone like this in the middle of a graveyard.

When they finally stopped, Harry looked at Hermione, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses. “His kisses” he thought.

“What?” She asked. He smiled as he looked down at her.

“I-“ He stuttered, never was he what some would call smooth. “I don't want to apologize for that Hermione.”

“Good, because I wouldn't accept!” She said taking his hand in hers. “Come on, we should get going.”

It was with that kiss that Harry's whole world shifted. From then on, they decided to take time off occasionally, deciding that if life could not be enjoyed, even just in the most minute of ways, then they would forget what they were fighting for.

He spent the next week with her and her parents. They went out on dates and did things regular people did. Of course, they had to use forms of polyjuice to make themselves look different. But, it was a small sacrifice that they were willing to take. It was with a feeling of gratitude that he left that night. He knew that he could still make it, Hermione would never forgive him if he gave up all hope. He apparated away, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

~*~*~*~

He breathed a sigh of relief that Potter didn't stay the whole night. The nights he had to worry about that wretched boy meant he could get little done. He got back to work, lighting a candle and casting a disillusionment charm on the building, just in case. Not that many people in the village came to this place, not since they knew Harry Potter showed up. They had respect for him in this village. After all, Harry Potter was their precious savior. Some would be surprised that he had chosen Godric's Hallow as his place of refuge, but he was wise enough to know that sometimes the best hiding place was right in front of someone's face.

He sat at the table, pulling out a parchment and taking his quill in hand began his letter. He began to write his letter carefully, for it would take just the right amount of convincing to get his friend to meet him, especially if he had found a place that was secure. However, if he was too forceful, the Slytherin in his friend would surely see straight through the message. So, he crafted his letter with the correct words, enticing his friend to help him. After summoning his raven, he placed the proper enchantments on the letter and sent his raven off with the letter. If his friend was still alive with the boon of freedom, his raven was sure to find him.

He would stay here as long as possible. He found in comfortable, even if the Potter's had once lived in this place, and he was able to do what he needed to do from this place. Luckily, he had thought enough to bring the tomes he needed and the potions supplies he had. They would be essential if his plan was to work. He certainly did wish he could be in the comfort of his own home, but a wanted Death Eater certainly could not be found among his questionable items. No, instead he would wait here until he had the correct bargaining chips to ensure his freedom. All he needed to do was bide his time, orchestrate a little accident, and soon freedom would be his. He would see to that.

~*~*~*~

It was shortly before ten, and Harry had just made his way down to the kitchen. He knew Remus was right, he did need to do more for himself. He decided the first step was a proper breakfast. He wasn't surprised to see his friend still enjoying his breakfast.

“Morning.” Harry said in a quiet voice. He definitely was not a morning person, and though he had come home before midnight, he wasn't able to sleep until early in the morning. He had laid in his much too big bed, wondering what there was for him to do.

“Morning, Mate.” Ron answered, pushing toast in Harry's direction. He knew that Harry usually started with a piece of toast. Sometimes he would eat more, but often, Harry could only stomach toast in the morning. The kitchen was bright and the sun was shining outside.

“It's supposed to be a warm one today. It looks like spring weather is finally here.” Ron said, looking up from The Quibbler. Though, if you asked Harry, he wasn't sure how much could be trusted from the document Ron held. Though Harry would never say so much to Ron, after all, his wife was now the Editor-in-chief of the paper. “It says it should last until the first. You're coming to the Twin's birthday party, right?”

Harry looked up, he had forgotten that the twins had their birthday so soon. Then again, he had pretty much lost all sense of time. “It's already almost April?” He asked, wondering how so much time had passed. Hermione had fallen ill just shortly after Ron's twenty-fifth birthday.

“Yeah, I know.” Ron said at Harry's look. Though Harry wondered for a moment if his friend truly knew what he was thinking. Had it only been a month of this hell? How was he going to live through another month, or a month after that, or after that? He tried to shake the frustrating thought. It only upset him and set him of his course to take better care of himself.

“Ron, I don't know if I'm up to all those people.” Harry said.

“Harry, it's just my family.”

“Ron, “just your family” means like forty people, at the least. What with your brothers and their wives and kids.” Harry said, a small smile crossing his face as he said this. He knew it would just be the Weasleys and though the thought should make him feel comfortable, he only became aware of how much he would feel like an outsider. True, they had made him an honorary Weasley, he even had his own hand on their clock, yet after marrying Hermione, he always felt like he had begun his own family. And being surrounded by all the Weasleys it would only put into sharp view how much his own family was missing.

“Well, you know Mum will have kittens if you don't show up. She already hates the fact that you're never here when she comes to visit.” Ron smiled. “You'd best be careful mate, or she'll stalk you at the hospital soon.”

Harry laughed, knowing that his friend was correct. “I don't know Ron, we'll see.”

“You look better than you did last night.” Ron said, passing his friend a plate of kippers. “Did you actually sleep?”

“As a matter of fact, yes I did finally sleep.” Harry said, his good mood wearing down just enough to sound annoyed. “Remus came to visit me last night. Any idea what that was about?” He asked, eyeing his friend suspisciously.

Ron turned red, but tried to lie, “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.

Harry just laughed and then sincerely he added, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

When the raven landed next to his desk, he was afraid he wards had been breeched, but after a quick check he was happy to see that they were not. He took the note from the bird, and noticed that it waited for no reply. In fact, it took off so quickly, he would have thought that he had imagined the bird.

He recognized the wax seal immediately and had he have known better, he wouldn't have opened the letter. But for as smart a man as he was, he could not deny that a small part of him still considered the sender a friend.

Dear Brother,

It seems that a certain Mrs. Potter has been struck ill by a certain curse that we have the answer to. I dare say we may be able to come to some agreement with Mr. Potter and thus, buy our freedom. Mr. Potter seems quit distraught over his wife's condition and with any luck, his usual rash behavior can be exploited in our favor. If you are in agreement, please use this as a portkey. It has been preset and luckily for us, the wards upon you destination are much to strong to let the Ministry notice such a small blip as a portkey arrival.

I hope to see you soon.

Of course, he knew that it would not be signed. The seal would have been enough to alert him to who had sent the message, and he must admit, the idea did have merit.

He considered his decision, wondering if he was a fool to go along with such a scheme. Yet, knowing Potter the way he did, he was pretty sure the brat would bend the rules to save his precious wife. Packing a bag with items he considered necessary, he activated the portkey and waited for his departure, wand in hand, just in case.

~*~*~*~

Harry spent most of the day at the hospital as always. Today, Hermione had been fairly inactive, thus leaving Harry with little do to but ponder. He would rest his head upon her stomach and talk to his two little babies. He found it unbelievable that such a miracle could take place inside his wife. He brushed her hair and read to her from her favorite books.

When the nurse came in to examine Hermione, he was asked to leave, and he thought he would take the time to get something to eat. Instead, Molly Weasley accosted him in the hallway.

She took him into her embrace, before beginning on her mission for the day. Molly Weasley felt it was definitely not within her adopted son's best interest that he mop around a hospital all day. In fact, she felt he might be better served he got out for just a little bit. It was with that thought in mind, that she had arranged to take him to Diagon Alley and have Ginny meet her there. A trip to buy a few things for the baby should cheer him up.

“Harry, dear. I know how difficult all this is for you. But you really must try and look out for yourself. You are going to be a father, and I will not have any of my grandkids neglected.” She said, her motherly voice making Harry smile. It was true that Molly felt that Harry was one of her own, and it did make him smile to know that she cared.

“That being said, I suggest you and I go to lunch in Diagon Alley and search for something for those two wonderful children you are expecting.” She said, walking him down the hall way in tow.

“But-“ Harry tried to protest, but he knew it was really to no avail. When Mrs. Weasley saw fit to put something into motion, it was usually very difficult to get her to change her mind. “Alright, but I can't promise I will make good company.”

“Pish-“ She said, as they got to the magical door that lead straight to the streets of Diagon Alley. “Now, I invited Ginny along, she needs to get some things for hers and I thought it would be a great time for us all to go shopping together.” Ginny had married Neville a few year previously and seemed to have her mother's flare for having children. She was currently expecting her third child, and she glowed in pregnancy.

Harry found himself actually enjoying the company he had that day. It was nice to have Molly and Ginny talking his ears off and their excitement of his children made him feel as if it was really real. They had lunch at a small cafe and from there went straight to one baby store after another. Ginny really didn't need much, she already had a large supply of baby things in her possession, but she knew what Harry would need, and knew that they could never get started to early.

“Harry, have you thought about which room you want to use for the twins?” Ginny asked as they were walking around the bedroom section of the baby store. To be honest, Harry hadn't given more thought to his wife's pregnancy than what it would mean for her. “No, I”

“Harry, it's okay, really. Neville didn't think about it either. But here we are, and you must think about it.” She said, matter of factly. “Well, whatever room, you want it to be nicely lit from natural light. And you need to think about color for the room. As nice as pastels for making the room feel like a nursery, you want to have bright colors, they help stimulate a child's learning process.” Harry listened to Ginny babble on, and wondered how on earth he was going to decide what to get. It was while she was talking that he saw them. Two, small lion cubs, that were made to attach to one and other so they slept on each other. Harry knew the moment he saw them that he had to have those for his children. He could set it on Hermione's bedside, and they could look out for her.

When he brought his purchase up to the counter, the women made friendly conversation. “Oh, I'm glad you found these sir. They are perfect for newborn babies. They have a slight warming charm that can be activated and so many kids love them. I know they calmed my little Harry.” She said as she rung up his bill and packed them in a bag. It was when she handed him his receipt that she noticed who she had been talking to.

“Oh,my. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I didn't realize.” She said, as she fussed with her outfit.

Harry, who hated it when people fussed over him, just smiled. “Don't worry. How old is your little boy?” He asked politely.

“He's just turning one. His father and I named him for you.” She said.

Harry didn't really know what to say to this, so he begged goodbye and walked out the door. He knew he was considered a savior, but he never thought that people named their kids after him.

Having had learned more about babies than he wanted to know, he thanked Molly and Ginny and made sure they would be able to get home okay. Ginny was supposed to meet Neville at his office in Diagon Alley, and left them to find him.

Upon saying goodbye, Molly had one more order. “Harry, I want you at the twins party. If you are not there, nothing can save you from the howler you'll receive from me!” She said, before kissing him on the cheek. “Give Hermione my love.” She said, as she knew he would be heading back to St. Mungos. “I will, Mrs. Weasley and thanks.”

“Harry, it's mum.” She said.

“I know. Old habits and all.” He said sheepishly before he hugged her once more. “Thanks mum, for everything.” And without further conversation, he parted ways.

When he got back to Hermione's room he noticed that she was awake, her eyes open, yet he knew they did not see the reality that was surrounding her.

“Hey,” She said, smiling as he walked into the room.

“Hey yourself.”

“I thought, that maybe you were upset because I fell asleep when we were discussing names and decided you were never going to come back and visit me.” She said, her voice betraying more pain than she was trying to show.

“I would never leave you Hermione.” He said sitting down in his chair next to her bed.

“That's not true, you left me.” She whispered. It hurt him to hear her say that. “You're not even here right now, but at least I can pretend.” She said solemnly.

Instead of trying to deny what she thought to be true, Harry decided to change the subject.

“I brought something for our kids.” He said pulling out the lion cubs. He watched as they animated themselves and curled up on Hermione's lap.

“Oh, they're adorable Harry.” She said.

“And until they are born, they can watch over you, even when you think that I am not here, know that I am always with you.” He said kissing her on the lips. For the rest of the evening, he conversed with his wife, pretending that everything in his world was okay. If there was one thing his wife had taught him, was to savor every possible joy in his life.

~*~*~*~

He looked up when he heard someone stumble in the other room. Wand in hand, he walked into the room to find his expected guest.

“I see you brought supplies with you.” He said, his voice showing that he was pleased.

“Of course, if there is one thing you can count on is that I am prepared.”

Lucius Malfoy smiled. Yes that it true, Severus Snape was always prepared. And if there was one thing you could count on Malfoy's for, they too were always prepared, even to make deals with the enemy.

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