Move Along

EmotionlessNightmare

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 09/10/2006
Last Updated: 20/12/2006
Status: completed

Harry Potter disappeared to Australia to take part in the Auror Training Program 10 years ago. Ron and Hermione took their relationship to the next level and married. Now, two children and a failing marriage later, their world is turned upside down as Harry returns to their lives.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter 1

3. Chapter 2

4. Chapter 3

5. Chapter 4

6. Chapter 5

7. Chapter 6

8. Chapter 7

9. Chapter 8

10. Chapter 9

11. Chapter 10

12. Epilogue

1. Prologue

Hermione Granger appeared to be a happy woman. She was working a job she loved and had even married her childhood sweetheart. They even had two wonderful children together, Henry, who was now six, and Sarah, who was only four. They appeared to be one big, happy family from the outside looking in.

But there was a gap. There had always been unresolved tension surrounding the adult Weasleys, something they had made a silent agreement never to speak of: Harry Potter. Harry had been out of their lives for almost ten years now, and they hadn't heard from him, or seen a hair of his head since the day he proclaimed he was going on `vacation'. He hadn't told them he was leaving England for good. He hadn't given any indication or reason why. They had learned of his departure from Molly Weasley and Ron had taken it as a great insult that Harry had informed his mother of his plans rather than his best mate. He had simply told them he was going to Australia to `clear his head'.

Harry had sent a letter to Molly from Australia when he had failed to turn up three days after the date he had said he would be returning. In his letter he had plainly explained that he had fallen in love with the country, the peacefulness, and its beauty. He had every intention of staying there, and didn't plan on returning to England for a long, long, time. He also explained that he was immediately accepted into the Auror Training Program in the Australian Ministry, and he made no effort of hiding his happiness. He immediately liked the Minister of Magic in Australia, much more than Rufus Scrimgeour, who had resigned almost three years ago.

Hermione was heartbroken. She tried writing to him, calling him, and even suggested that she and Ron go visit him. Most recently, the letter she had sent him came back unopened with “TENANT NO LONGER LIVES HERE” stamped across it. Harry never replied to any of her letters, or answered his telephone. Hermione would sometimes call his mobile number that she had come across at Molly's, in case she needed him in for an absolute emergency. He had only answered his mobile once, and had quickly said something along the lines of “In the middle of something important, sorry” and hung up quickly. Now Hermione called the number to leave him small messages and just to hear his voice. Ron thought she was being ridiculous. Harry had made his intentions known that he had no interest in them whatsoever anymore, and for all they knew, Harry could be married with fifteen children by now. Ron seemed perfectly comfortable living just like that.

Ron was a dispatch investigator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Hermione owned her own bookshop in Diagon Ally. In this result, the Weasleys were living comfortably in central London.

More recently Ron's job had been taking him away, but Hermione knew the real reason he was gone so frequently. She had heard stories from Ron's female coworkers who she was friendly with and knew that Ron had taken to having lunches and `walks' with his new secretary, Lavender Brown. Hermione was forcibly reminded of her sixth year, when Ron and Lavender were all over each other. She dearly wished Ron would tell her about his relationship with Lavender, but she knew how he would react if she confronted him. He had never hit her, but he still had the emotional range of a teaspoon. Perhaps a tablespoon now.

At first, she was shocked, upset, and felt useless and ugly that Ron was cheating on her. It was starting to cut into their personal time as he kept going away on `covert missions'. She was constantly home with the children, and was running out of excuses as to why daddy wasn't as home as much as he normally was. She was getting sick of it, and she was sure she was going to have to confront him with divorce papers sooner rather than later.

She often wondered what she would do if she gave Ron the papers. She would obviously have to move out, perhaps get a smaller house outside London for her and the children, and start all over. She wouldn't marry again. Never. She also considered actually going to Australia and hunting Harry down. She knew she should be furious with her raven-haired friend. They hadn't spoken or seen each other in eleven years. He never replied to any of her letters, returned any of her calls, or sent birthday or Christmas cards. He had practically shut her out of his life, and yet, if he were to walk back into her life at that very moment, she would likely welcome him back with open arms.

X-x-x-x-x

He knew what he was doing was wrong. He was a married man, and had been for almost thirteen years. Yet, he was drawn to this gorgeous woman he had been with when he was sixteen. He had finally come to terms that Lavender Brown was now indeed his mistress and it seemed that he stayed in her apartment more than he did in his own home with his wife and two children.

Lavender had matured over the years. Instead of the gossip queen and fashion obsessed girl she was in Hogwarts, she was now a well informed, grown up beautiful woman. She was his new secretary. Glenda, his former secretary was as old as the hills, but reliable as hell. She was like a second mother to him, but she retired in order to spend time with her dying muggle husband, Nicholas. So then he went through many interns, none of them as reliable as Glenda. Until that fateful day Lavender Brown entered his office, on a particular day when the ministry cleaners decided to charm the windows to a bright, gorgeous sunny day. The fake sun managed to bring out the natural red highlights in Lavenders hair, and Ron immediately hired her on. Hermione, Henry, and Sarah were pushed to the back of his mind ever since the day Lavender Brown walked back into his life.

So Ronald Weasley found himself following his new secretary around like a long lost puppy. They had lunch together, had coffee breaks together, and Ron even went home with her. And most recently, he started spending long, passion-filled nights with her. Of course he felt guilty doing this to Hermione… But the romance had left their relationship a long time ago. Ron liked to think that their relationship was doomed when a certain someone had taken off to Australia, leaving Ron's fiancé in hysterics. After Harry had left, he was having internal conflicts. He would never be able to bring himself to admit to Hermione that he was actually glad that Harry was no longer around. Sure, he missed his best mate, his drinking and Quiddich buddy. But now he was gone. There was no more Harry Potter for Hermione to fuss over, to worry about. He was out of their lives, and Ron felt like he had did not have to compete for Hermione's time and emotions.

During the war, Ron felt like he had to constantly compete with Harry for Hermione's attention. He knew Harry had no interest in his girlfriend and Harry wouldn't even look twice at his sister anymore; he had lost interest in her. But Harry had changed. He and Hermione had somehow become closer friends, closer even than he and Ron had been. Ron began to feel threatened and he was getting horribly frustrated. When he and Hermione went to bed at night, she would always unleash her concerns for Harry, about how he was dealing with his emotions and the new information they had unearthed about destroying the last Horcrux- Nagini the snake.

They destroyed the snake and Harry took care of Voldemort, which left him in a coma for three weeks. Naturally, Hermione was beside herself with worry and Ron was worried that Harry might not actually pull through this one. And finally, one rainy Sunday, Harry Potter's eyes opened. He refused to give an interview to the Daily Prophet, and even declined the Quibbler. He stayed in his small flat in Kensington most of the time. After the whole Harry issue had settled down, things were finally starting to return to normal. Ron became an understudy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Hermione was the Assistant Manager at Flourish and Blotts, and Harry was taking it easy in Kensington Park.

Ron proposed to Hermione in front of their friends and family a month later at a garden party held at the Burrow. She eagerly accepted. Ron felt like he was the happiest man in the world. He had finally gotten the girl.

Molly Weasley had threatened to skin the three of them alive if they failed to show up at her infamous Sunday dinners, in which all of the Weasleys and their spouses and children were present. Reluctantly, the three of them never failed to show up. Three weeks later, Harry had made his announcement that he was going on a `vacation'. They all said it was well deserved. Harry smiled gratefully, and joined in an enthusiastic conversation with Fred and George about the current winning streak of the England National Quiddich Team.

After everyone had said their goodbyes and good lucks to Harry, he gave them each in turn a hug and said `I'll see you around'. He then walked out the front door, and unbeknownst to them, out of their lives. That was the last time anyone had seen Harry.

There were rumours that he had been in and out of London since he left. He had been rumoured to be in the English ministry itself, yet, Ron had never seen a hair of his head, or heard the deep baritone of his voice. Hermione was the only one now who seemed to give a damn about Harry and what was going on in his life. With this new development that he had moved out of the condominium he had been living in, Ron had started to become suspicious. He even went as far as to contact the Australian Ministry of Magic, to find out what was up with Harry. It turned out that the bloke he had spoken to via floo, was a good friend of Harry's. Harry had apparently desired a `change of scenery', and was now living in a lavish apartment on the Sydney waterfront. Ron had made Lucas Ulrich take a wizard's oath that he would not repeat this conversation to Harry. Lucas reluctantly agreed. Ron wouldn't even dare tell Hermione that he had been in contact with anyone in Australia.

x-x-x-x-x

The Burrow was bustling with life as Ron, Hermione, Henry, and Sarah arrived. It was supposed to be a monstrous occasion, as every single Weasley was to be present, along with their spouses and children. When the whole immediate Weasley clan was together, the Burrow was filled with a staggering 17 people.

After they swung the rickety front door wide, Henry and Sarah made a beeline for the backdoor, where their uncles, Fred and George, were currently entertaining the Weasley children. Hermione smiled warmly as she heard her daughter let out a shrill giggle as she rocketed into Fred's arms.

“She's beautiful,” Ron whispered in her ear.

“I know,” replied Hermione as Molly embraced her into one of her infamous bone-crushing hugs.

“Ronald! You missed dinner last week, Hermione said something of a mission?” said Molly as they entered the kitchen.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I've been getting called away a lot now, senior member of the department and all…”

“They should be made aware that you do have a family to take care of,” Molly continued.

“I also have to help protect the magical world too, mum,” Ron countered. “At least I'm home, I don't just leave and decide to stay away,” he said as they entered the kitchen. Everyone in the room fell silent. “I-I-I didn't mean it in that way…”

“It's alright, Ronald.” Molly said softly, as she and Hermione immediately busied themselves with setting dishes on the table.

He felt terrible. Dinner was now a silent affair. Normally it was loud with the laughter of the children, adults telling each other cruel jokes, and fights over Quidditch. News of his little `reference' had spread like wildfire through the house, and no one really knew what to say on the matter. Harry was a touchy subject for everyone. The children had never met him, but had heard stories of his adventures. Somehow, they knew not to speak of him in front of their parents, especially Ron and Hermione.

Hermione and Ron had fought many times about Harry since he had left. More recently, since she had acquired his mobile number. He argued that since he left, he hadn't contacted them once, so why should she even write him a letter once a month? Why should she call him if he won't pick up? He had let go, but somehow, Hermione could not. He wasn't sure how he would react if Harry came home. He would probably try to come back into their lives. But would he allow it? They had moved on without him. He and Hermione were married, for Christ sakes. They had two children, and if Harry were to come back? That would ruin it. He was sure. What if he left again? What if he tried to get back together with Ginny? She was married now! She was pregnant. And Harry would ruin it.

Ron exhaled. He was over-reacting. Harry was not coming home. Harry was not coming home. Harry was NOT coming home.

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2. Chapter 1

Heathrow airport was filled with happy relatives, disgruntled travellers, crying and running children, and worn out flight attendants. His back was aching from the fourteen-hour flight. He was starting to wish he had gotten off the plane in the stopover in China.

He walked around the terminal before heading out into the rain. He smiled. It was good to be home. He hailed a cab, and sure enough, one pulled up instantly.

“Where to, sir?” The cabbie questioned.

“Err,” he said, as he rustled though his pockets and produced a piece of parchment. “Queens Gate Gardens, South Kensington.”

The cab driver nodded and observed his passenger in the rear-view mirror.

“Returning from vacation?”

“Oh no. I'm moving back.”

“Crazy. Where are you moving back from?”

“Australia.”

“Crazy,” he repeated, “how long have you been away for?”

“Almost ten years. I needed to come back for some unfinished business.”

The driver remained silent until they pulled up in front of a lavish white building. The driver stared; it was obvious he didn't make stops in his part of town much. “I lived here before, it's beautiful,” the passenger said simply before handing him three 20 pound notes and disappearing into the cool rain.

After acquiring a new set of keys from his landlord, the man was led up a flight of stairs and to his new home. The landlord bid him a good day and left his new tenant to explore his new home.

The apartment was far more glamorous than the condo he had been living in Australia. The walls were all white, and the floors were a shiny oak. He immediately fell in love with the place. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handful of boxes that were roughly the size of his thumbnail. He then pulled out his wand, and placed the silencing charms and the anti-apparition wards on the place. He put the boxes back to their regular size, and began to unpack his belongings the Muggle way.

It was nearly ten o'clock when his mobile began to ring. Yawning loudly, he slumped into one of the plush white chairs and flipped open the phone.

“Hello?”

“Harry Potter?” said a gruff male voice.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“This is Nate Harris of the Magical Law Enforcement of the English Ministry of Magic. Have you arrived in England yet?”

“Yes Nate, I have arrived.”

“I assume your trip went well?”

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

“You're expected to start your job as the new head of the Auror department tomorrow. Will there be any complications?”

Harry exhaled and ran his fingers through the tight mop of raven curls on his head. “No. I'll be there at eight as expected. I'll just take one of those potions to help me cope with the time difference.”

“You're a trooper, Potter. I'll alert the outgoing head so he'll be there to welcome you.”

“That won't be necessary. I'll meet him in the Auror Department.”

“If you find it more accommodating.”

“Thank you, Harris,” said Harry gratefully, and hung up the phone.

x-x-x-x-x

The next morning, Harry awoke to the sound of his alarm clock. Groaning loudly, he reached blindly around on his nightstand until his fist came in contact with the blasted thing.

Finally, silence.

Exhaling, Harry sat up in his bed and glanced around the stark white room and smiled. He was home. Throwing the blankets off his body, he made his way to the bathroom. He stripped out of his boxer shorts and climbed into the falling beads of warm water. Almost ten minutes later, he remerged and wrapped a towel around his waist. He glanced at his reflection, and performed a simple charm that instantly cleared away the stubble on his face. He then proceeded to his closet, and realised that he would have to dress differently for work now that he was no longer a casual Auror, but the head of an entire department.

Raking his fingers through his damp hair, he slipped into a clean pair of boxer shorts and a pair of loose fitting jeans. He carefully pulled a simple emerald green button down shirt out of his closet and shrugged it loosely on his shoulders and fastened his cloak. He slipped into his new sneakers and snatched his wand off the nightstand and disappeared down into the kitchen. After making himself a quick breakfast, he grabbed his leather briefcase and disapparated with a loud crack.

x-x-x-x-x

In the mornings, the Weasley household was a busy one. With getting both children up and to flooed to Molly's to be looked after, both adults fighting for the first shower in the house, and trying to get breakfast into all four stomachs before eight o'clock, their morning was like running a marathon. And somehow, Hermione and Ron managed to get it done. They took turns getting Henry and Sarah to their Grandmother's, while the other made lunches and did dishes. It was to early in the morning (even for Hermione) to be thinking coherent thoughts about which spells to cast to put mustard on what slice of bread, or what sugar was supposed to go in which coffee.

On this particular morning, however, everything went too smoothly. Hermione was stunned to find that she had a whole fifteen minutes to herself before she had to be at her shop in Diagon Alley. Normally, she had fifteen seconds to apparate, get everything in order for the day, and open the shop doors. She normally JUST managed. But today, she felt unusually happy as she relaxed in the silence of her home. Ron was gone to work, the children were at Molly's, and she had time to herself. Nowadays, it was such a rarity, with Ron being called away on his `covert missions' every other weekend, it left her feeling solely responsible for their children.

Sighing, Hermione finished her tea, and placed the semi-warm mug in the sink. She ran her fingers through her hair and picked up her purse. She placed the locking wards on the house, and disapparated.

x-x-x-x-x

When Ron arrived at the Ministry, the place was in chaos. There were excited witches and wizards running around, and the Aurors were shouting something about getting the Atrium under control. Ron's brow furrowed as he stepped into the lift.

“What's going on?” he asked the man beside him.

He shook his head and said, “I have no idea. I just arrived, and heard something about the new head of the Auror department arriving today. Apparently, he's quite young and that's why the witches are acting funny.”

“I see,” said Ron slowly as he stepped off the lift, and into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had a bad feeling about this. When he arrived at his office in the back of the department, he felt relieved when he saw Lavender talking happily with a co-worker.

“Morning Mr. Weasley,” she said brightly as she turned back to her conversation before he could reply.

“Morning Lavender,” he said softly. “Can I see you in my office?”

She nodded and followed him inside.

“What's going on around here?” he demanded as he sat behind his desk.

Lavender took a deep breath and sat on the edge of his desk, facing him. She kissed him lightly on the lips, and then her expression softened. “Don't be mad at me,” she warned.

“I promise,” said Ron.

“You're aware that they have been having trouble finding a new head of the Auror Department?” she began.

Ron nodded.

“Well, they found one. They had to convince him to even take the job-”

“Get on with it, Lav.”

“Harry's back, Ron,” she said quietly.

Ron stared at her long and hard. “You've got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not `shitting you', Ron.”

“When did he get here?” he demanded as he stood up and began to pace around his office.

“I have no idea, Ron. I heard it from Mandy this morning. She saw him herself as he was being shown around the department by the outgoing head.”

“I didn't know Kaysar was retiring.”

“Neither did I, apparently they wanted to keep the change as low-key as possible. The ministry's been trying to keep out of the papers,” she explained. “But bringing Harry in as a new head of Department is ludicrous, because he's been away for almost thirteen years in Australia.”

“I don't know how I'll break it to Hermione,” said Ron quietly as he and Lavender embraced. He felt her tense at the name of his wife.

“You haven't told her yet?” she questioned, staring into his blue eyes.

“I don't know how to, Lavender…” Ron groaned, as he sat back down in his leather executive chair. “It's that Sarah and Henry…”

“They'll understand, Ron,” pleaded Lavender. “I can't live like this forever.”

x-x-x-x-x

He was glad for the chance to lock himself in his office and mull his thoughts over. Maybe that cab driver was right. He was crazy for returning to England. Why did he even accept the job? He could take what time off when he needed to, for as long as he wanted… The pay was unbelievable, but none of those were the reasons he returned. He missed Ron and Hermione.

Hermione was the only one that seemed to give a damn about him. She sent him letters once a month; she somehow got a hold of his mobile number. It scared him to death when he answered he answered it a few months ago to hear her voice on the end … she sounded so much older. And he wished he could have walked out of that meeting he was in and talked to her, explained everything to her… But he couldn't. There were thirty pairs of eyes on him, and he couldn't stop in the middle of his presentation on how Australia's defence could be improved. Sighing, he muttered something into the mouthpiece and hung up on her.

But her letters never stopped. He started so many replies to her, but he never knew what to say. He couldn't tell her. She was a world away from him and he couldn't will himself to put his burdens on her. She sent him an invite to her wedding to Ron, pictures of Henry and Sarah when they were born, and a picture every Christmas with her card. He kept them all.

Now that he was back, he didn't know how he could face anyone. He was thinking about showing up at Molly's Sunday dinners, but he was sure he'd stumble out with two black eyes and a bloody nose. No, that was not a good plan at all. He couldn't bring himself to get into the lift and go up to Ron's office, three floors up. He was sure Ron had heard of his return by now, by the way people were reacting. Harry had hoped it was going to be a low-key affair, that people wouldn't recognise him. But somehow, someone did, and word spread through the Ministry like wildfire. He had been gone for thirteen years. He would have thought that the Harry Potter craze would be long and forgotten. Apparently, he was wrong.

Sighing, Harry set down his quill. Harry rubbed his temples and placed his head in his hands and breathed in deeply. His appearance had definitely changed since he left. He was no longer a pasty, four-eyed boy. He had grown his hair out, it was now in a mess of curls around his head, he had long rid of his glasses and had his eyes magically fixed, and he put a glamour charm on the scar on his forehead. He was toned and he was tanned. He wasn't even sure any of his close friends would recognise him if they saw him.

It was then Harry decided he would stay in his office for the rest of the day.

x-x-x-x-x

Ron was beginning to believe that the `Harry has returned' idea was just a myth. Perhaps the new head of the Auror department looked like Harry, but it probably wasn't him. Ron was sure he would have been trying to re-enter lives by now. But, there was no sign of him. Hermione had simply said, “Give him some time”.

Ron had opted to stay home this weekend, instead of with Lavender. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday when he and Hermione decided to take Henry and Sarah to Diagon Alley. Ron had taken an excited Henry off to Quality Quidditch Supplies, while Hermione decided on taking Sarah to Flourish and Blotts. She was truly her mothers' daughter. Hitching Sarah securely to her side, Hermione entered the dingy bookstore. It had been a while since she had been inside; as she was preoccupied with her own most of the time. Aside from selling magical books at a slightly cheaper price, she also sold muggle books.

Giving a friendly wave to the manager, Hermione and Sarah headed towards the back of the store where the children's books were kept. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into someone. She struggled to stay upright as the pile of books in the others' arms toppled to the ground, causing him to swear under his breath. Hermione set Sarah down and bent down to help him retrieve his books.

“I'm sorry,” said Hermione apologetically.

“It's okay,” he replied simply as he gathered his books up and straightened up. Hermione held one of them in her hand.

“Defence Theories of the New Ages?” she questioned as she handed it back to him and he raised his gaze to meet her. She froze.

“You can never have too much knowledge,” he said, smiling faintly.

She wouldn't have recognised him if it weren't for his eyes. He looked so different from the Harry she remembered. He looked so… normal. He was dressed in a pair of simple faded jeans, battered sneakers, and a black t-shirt. He had his aviators perched on top of the shaggy mess of curls on his head. His Australian tan was still perfectly in place, and she knew she would regret thinking it later, but Harry had never looked so striking in all the years she had known him.

“Harry?” said Hermione cautiously as Sarah hid behind her legs.

“Hermione,” he replied warmly.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had knocked the books out of his arms for a second time and threw her arms around his neck and was sobbing uncontrollably into his shirt. Harry patted her back awkwardly as he locked eyes with Sarah. She quickly looked away, blushing crimson.

“Hermione, its okay,” whispered Harry, as he regained his composure and kissed her softly on the head.

“You're really home,” she whispered back, pulling away and patting his face softly.

“Yeah, I'm home.” He replied, stepping away from her and bent down to gather his books. “Listen… I'll go pay for these, and just drop them off at my flat. I'll meet you for coffee, yeah?”

“I have to meet Ron and Henry in a half an hour,” she explained sadly.

“Ron's not too thrilled with my return, I'm sure.”

“It's a touchy subject,” said Hermione carefully. “Where are you living?”

“Queens Gate Gardens in Kensington,” he explained.

“A Muggle complex?”

“Much nicer and roomier than the Wizarding apartment buildings.” He shrugged.

“Molly's dinner's tomorrow. You should come. I'll explain to everyone that I met you here… I don't think it'd be as bad,” she asked hopefully.

“I'll think about it,” said Harry, smiling again. “This is Sarah?” He asked softly, bending down so he was at eye level with her.

“Sarah Louise Jane Weasley,” she said proudly. “Who are you?”

“I'm Harry James Potter,” he replied, laughing as he shook her extended hand. “You look more beautiful in person than the pictures your mother sent me.”

“You got those?” said Hermione, shocked.

“Every one of them,” replied Harry, his gaze locked with Sarah's.

“Thanks,” whispered Sarah as the blush instantly returned to her cheeks. “Where did you live?”

“In Sydney, Australia.”

“That's far away.”

“I know.”

“Why did you live there?”

Harry was quiet for a moment before saying, “because it was beautiful.”

Hermione couldn't help but smile.

“Come now Sarah, we have to go meet Daddy and Henry,” she said smiling as Harry made to straighten up, but Sarah made a bold move and threw her arms around Harry's neck. Harry let out a laugh and straightened up with Sarah in his arms.

“You go with your mum,” he told her.

“I don't want to,” she whined.

“Sarah,” said Hermione warningly. “Harry needs to go home. He'll see you tomorrow at Grandma's.”

“Promise?” she demanded as she was transferred to her mothers' arms.

Harry grinned. “I swear on my life.”

“You have to show up for sure tomorrow Harry. I don't think I could stand you if you broke a promise to my daughter,” said Hermione smugly before retreating out of the bookshop.

x-x-x-x-x

Ron stared as his wife silently brushed her hair as she sat at her vanity. She had been oddly quiet since they returned home from Diagon Alley.

“Hermione?” asked Ron quietly as he flipped through his Quidditch magazine.

“Yes?” she replied.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“I'm fine,” she began, as she set down her brush and stared at him in the mirror. “I ran into Harry today,” she said finally.

Ron's eyes met hers. “Where at?” he demanded.

“In Flourish and Blotts. He was getting books for work,” she explained calmly. “I invited him to dinner at your mum's tomorrow. Molly's been beside herself since she heard he was home. I expect you to be on perfect behaviour.”

“What makes you so sure he'll show up?”

“He promised he would,” Hermione explained carefully.

Ron exhaled as Hermione climbed into bed beside him. “How was he?” he asked finally.

“Glad to be home. He wants to see you.” She whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek before snuggling down into the blankets, and soon fell asleep.

x-x-x-x-x

The next morning, Ron awoke to an empty bed. Sighing, he rolled out of the bed and dressed for the day. He glanced at his watch, and realised that he, Hermione, Henry and Sarah were due at his mother's in less than an hour. Dressing quickly, he stumbled down the stairs to find Hermione sitting at the table helping Sarah though a picture book while Henry sorted through his Chocolate Frog cards.

“Morning Dad,” said Henry brightly.

“Morning Daddy,” chimed Sarah.

Hermione didn't even look up. Ron sighed.

“Your secretary called for you, Ron,” began Hermione dryly as she turned away from him and to the pile of breakfast dishes in the sink. “She wanted to know if you had a chance to go over the `proposal' she presented you. I told her you obviously haven't.”

Ron remained silent. “Hermione…”

“We'll talk tonight,” she said flatly.

She knows.

“Are you ready to floo to Grandma's?” Hermione questioned.

“Are we going to see Harry?” Sarah asked excitedly.

“I think so,” Hermione replied warmly. Ron raised an eyebrow. Hermione didn't even notice as she helped Henry into his sweater and walked them over to the fireplace. The adults remained silent as they sent the children ahead via floo network before disapparating to the Burrow themselves.

x-x-x-x-x

It had been almost ten years since Harry had been to the Burrow. When he awoke that morning, he was filled with nervous delight. He longed for one of Mrs. Weasley's home-cooked meals, and was nervous to see all of the Weasley's again. He hadn't seen some of the Weasley children since they were infants, or still in their mothers' womb. He had learned from Hermione's letters that Ginny had married Neville Longbottom three years ago, and they had a little boy, Brendan. He was happy that Ginny had finally found someone.

He was running late. He slept through his alarm clock, and had now quite possibly hit a new low: brushing his teeth while he was in the shower. After spitting the last of his toothpaste down the drain, Harry turned off the water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and placed his toothbrush in the holder by the sink. He quickly performed a hair removed spell to remove the stubble off his face and performed a drying spell on his hair. He raced into his room and pulled on a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt and pulled a black hooded sweatshirt over it. Sticking his wand in his back pocket, he disapparated with a loud crack.

The sun was bright in Ottery St. Catchpole as Harry stuck his hands in the front pocket of his sweater as he walked down the dirt road towards the Burrow, and he was getting more nervous by the second. How would they react? Would the Weasley men gang up on him and beat him to a pulp? Hermione had already accepted him, but he doubted the rest of the Weasley clan would. They were related to Ron, after all.

Exhaling, Harry raked his fingers through his hair as he approached the front door. He took a deep breath, and knocked loudly. He instantly heard shuffling from behind the door, and he immediately became interested in his trainers. The door swung open, and its opener emitted an audible gasp.

“Harry?” breathed Molly Weasley.

“Yes,” said Harry softly as he met the eyes of his surrogate mother, the next thing he knew, he was shoved to the ground and was surrounded by a sea of red.

“FRED! GEORGE! GINNY! RONALD!” shouted Molly as Harry's arms immediately flew to his head for protection. “Ginny, think of the baby!”

The weight on his abdomen was instantly lifted, and one by one, the Weasley brothers removed themselves from him. He was on his feet in a flash, wand drawn, and anger sparking in his eyes.

“Slow reaction time for an Auror, George,” said Fred to his brother.

“I quite agree, Fred. Must be old age,” replied George as Harry slowly pocketed his wand.

“Coming from the two who are already twenty nine,” Harry cut in, grinning as the brothers clasped him on the back.

“We're all nearing thirty, mate.”

Harry straightened himself out to finally take in the scene around him. A very pregnant Ginny was standing beside Neville, who had his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Fred and George had retreated back into the house. Harry finally made eye contact with Ron. The two of them stared at each other long and hard. Finally, the others got the hint and left the two men alone.

“How long are you staying for this time?” said Ron finally.

“I deserved that,” replied Harry flatly.

“You deserve a hell of a lot more, but Hermione will have my head.”

Harry chuckled.

“How long are you staying for?” he repeated, stepping in front of Harry.

“I'm here to stay, Ron. I might go away at Christmas or something, but I promise I'll come back…”

“Because I know Mum and Hermione won't be able to take it if you leave again,” he snarled.

“I. Won't. Leave.” said Harry through gritted teeth.

“I don't believe it.”

“I'll give you a fucking wizards' oath that I won't leave, you dolt.”

Ron silently fumed as he attempted to stare his former best mate down, but Harry kept never let his guard down. “Get inside. Hermione wants to see you.”

Harry and Ron entered the Burrow. Other than the dead of the night, this was the only time Harry had ever heard the place dead silent. He nervously scratched the back of his neck as they stared at him.

“Welcome home, Harry,” said Arthur finally; stepping forward and embracing him like his own.

“Thank you, Arthur.”

“Come, let me look at you properly,” said Molly, as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Who's been feeding you?”

“I have?” Harry replied uneasily.

Molly pursed her lips and let him go. “Twenty seven years old and unmarried,” she tutted before disappearing into the kitchen with Ginny. Twenty minutes later, they were all sitting outside in the sun enjoying Molly's amazing cooking, laughing, and telling stories. Harry had been seated at the end of the table beside Hermione, and was remaining silent as the Weasley family enjoyed themselves around him.

“So Harry, what was Australia like?” Arthur asked, noticing his silence.

“Warm,” Harry said simply. “It's not a big desert as everyone makes it out to be.”

“Did you just live in Australia?”

“I was temporary head of the Italian Auror Department for a year a few years back,” he explained. “Then I had an option to come back to England, but I wasn't ready to come back then … so I took a transfer back to Australia, and I was head of a team of Dispatch Aurors for a year and a half. I was offered the job as head of the English Auror Department about a year and a half ago, and I originally declined. They kept at me, and I just eventually accepted to get them off my back.” He paused to take a drink of red wine, “I don't regret it at all. Something inside me told me I needed to come back…”

“Perhaps we can get you married off,” joked Ron as he laced his fingers though Hermione's.

Harry chuckled nervously.

“Was there a woman in Australia?” asked George as he watched Harry's eyes fall down to his empty plate.

“Or a man,” added Fred.

Harry shot him a dirty look. “Neither. I was too busy to have a steady relationship.”

“Fuck and chucked?”

“GEORGE!” Shouted Molly.

“That's a new low, mate,” Harry replied lightly as he took another drink of wine. “And in front of the children, at that.”

“Watch it, Potter… Just because you're sitting there in your sexy sweatshirt and your fancy jeans-”

Harry smirked. “Perhaps I should be the one asking you about boyfriends, Fred.”

“Har har.”

“Mummy,” began Sarah innocently. “Why does Uncle Fred have a boyfriend?”

Everyone at the table roared with laughter. “Uncle Fred doesn't have a boyfriend,” Hermione said after she was able to contain herself.

“Okay,” shrugged Sarah, before following the rest of the children to go catch fireflies in the garden.

“Hermione darling, I have to go tend to that report Lavender owled to me earlier… I'll meet you at home,” said Ron before he kissed her on the cheek.

Harry watched as Hermione's expression changed. He narrowed his eyes over his glass as her eyes suddenly darkened, and she looked slightly upset before bidding Ron a good night. Her husband rose to his feet, kissed his mother, and disapparated. Harry watched his female best friend carefully as he gently placed his glass back down.

“Hermione?” he said softly.

“Yes?”

“Walk with me?”

-->

3. Chapter 2

They'd walked all through the town and hadn't spoken a word. Night had fallen and he had given up his sweater to her for warmth. They were now sitting on the warm grass underneath a large oak tree.

“Hermione,” said Harry finally, his voice just above a whisper.

“Yes?” she replied, gently laying her hooded head on his shoulder and curled into his chest.

“Talk to me,” he whispered in her ear.

“He-he's…” she began, her voice muffled as her hands gripped tightly onto his thin t-shirt. He felt her hot tears start to seep through. He instantly wrapped his arms tight around her and held her close.

“He what?” he coaxed her on, gently kissing the top of her head, and subconsciously started stroking her hair.

“Ron's got a new secretary,” she began, her voice shaking. “Lavender Brown. They've been doing `reports' for awhile now…”

“Oh Hermione…” Harry breathed as she tightened her grip on his tear-soaked t-shirt.

“Am I that ugly and stupid?” she shouted at him. He tensed slightly as she forcefully pushed him against the tree and pounded her fists into his chest.

“HERMIONE,” said Harry loudly as he grasped her wrists and forced her to the ground, his body leaning over hers. She looked up at him fearfully as he placed her wrists over her head. His green eyes bore into hers.

“Listen to me,” he began, still pinning her down. “You're beautiful, not ugly; you're wonderful, intelligent and a great mother to Sarah and Henry. They fucking adore you. Don't ever think otherwise - do you understand? Ron is being a dick and I swear when I see him at work tomorrow I'm going to punch his lights out.”

“Harry no…”

“'Harry no' what?”

“Don't punch him… He can't know…”

“So you'll just let him continue on like this?”

“Sarah and Henry…”

“Hermione,” Harry sighed as he let go of her wrists and lay down on the grass beside her.

“They've started to notice why Ron isn't around as much,” she continued. “I'm running out of excuses, Harry! Ron doesn't know that I know about him and Lavender- I started putting two and two together. I feel so useless…”

Harry remained quiet for several minutes before simply saying, “Leave him.”

“I'm considering it, but I have no where to go. I certainly can't go to The Burrow.”

“Stay with me, I have enough room,” suggested Harry. “You, Henry, and Sarah can have your own rooms; I can just clear out the boxes.”

“I don't want to intrude.” she whispered.

“I don't mind,” he said flatly. “I've been living alone for a while. Company would be nice.”

“I-I don't know… I've been married to him for nearly eleven years, Harry … you don't understand.”

“But I do understand that he's cheating on you, and look what it's doing to you,” whispered Harry, as he rolled over on his side and stared straight at her. “You're falling apart, Hermione.”

“We should head back,” she said simply.

Harry nodded and helped her to her feet. She wrapped both of her arms around his right arm and they silently walked back towards the Burrow. When they arrived, they found Molly and Arthur sitting in the kitchen while Henry and Sarah were sleeping peacefully on the couch.

“Where were you two?” questioned Molly suspiciously.

“Catching up,” Hermione replied simply as she gathered Sarah into her arms. “Harry would you?” she asked helplessly gesturing to Henry.

“Sure,” he said quietly. He gathered the boy into his arms, where he unconsciously wound his arms around his neck. Sighing, Harry held Henry securely as he and Hermione both disapparated.

“His room is up the stairs, first door on the left,” Hermione whispered as they silently climbed the stairs together.

“Alright,” Harry replied.

Harry crept silently up the stairs. All the doors were wide open, save one. He assumed that it must be the master bedroom. Sighing, he entered Henry's room and gently placed the boy on his bed and covered him with a blanket. His heart ached for a child of his own. It was something he had always dreamed of, ever since he was young. Now, more so than ever as he laid Hermione's son in his bed. Harry ran a hand through his hair and left the room.

Once he was in the corridor, what he heard made his blood run cold. His eyes darted to the side, where he saw Hermione standing alone at the top of the staircase, an unreadable expression on her face. Both of them said nothing as they both approached the master bedroom where a low, guttural moan was coming from.

“He better be wanking off,” muttered Harry as he drew out his wand. Hermione grabbed his arm and shook her head silently, but he ignored her.

“Harry, please, no.” She pleaded, now trying to pull him away from the door.

“Hermione-” he began, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

“Go home,” she began softly, her brown eyes swimming with tears. “I'll go in there, get my things and I'll wake Henry and Sarah. I'll see you soon,” she said with great difficulty.

He simply nodded as he pocketed his wand. He silently walked past her, and headed down the oak staircase. He slipped soundlessly out the door, and disapparated.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione sighed as she gently closed Henry's bedroom door and placed a silencing charm around the room in case a shouting match ensued. She then proceeded to do the same thing to Sarah's room before hastily wiping the tears away from her eyes as she approached the master bedroom.

And this is how her marriage would end, she thought. Her world she worked so hard for was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew she wasn't really in love with her husband. Hell, he was a Weasley. Weasley's didn't divorce, no matter what. What would Henry and Sarah make of it? Surely they wouldn't fully understand right now- perhaps later in life.

She had always known Ron was cheating on her. She had figured it out quickly. She wasn't called the brightest witch of the age for nothing. She must have softened over the years. She ought to be furious with Harry for leaving, but she wasn't. She ought to curse Ron into oblivion, but she wouldn't. She ought to skin Lavender from ear to ear and she wouldn't. She would go in there with her head held high, pack her things as quickly as she could, minimise it, get the children, and apparate to Harry's. She vowed she wouldn't say a word to either of the two.

Trying to ignore the sound of the mattress squeaking inside, she gracefully drew out her wand, and threw the door open. Hermione stood in the doorway to see Lavender on top of her husband, back arched as she rode him, while Ron suckled her left breast. Ron was the first to notice her standing in the doorway.

“Hermione,” Ron began, his eyes wide in fear as his wife stared him down as Lavender covered herself with the duvet.

Hermione, however, simply ignored him. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at her various possessions, and with a few flicks of her wand, everything had been neatly packed in her suitcase. After her work was done, she magically sealed her suitcase, shrunk and pocketed it. She slammed the bedroom door behind her and threw open the door to Henry's bedroom.

“Mum?” he asked groggily.

“Sweetie, pack your clothes. We're going to be staying with Harry for a while,” she explained gently, kissing her son's head. “Be quick while I get your sister. Don't bother dressing; you'll be going straight to bed once we get there.”

“What's going on?” he asked as Hermione handed him a duffle bag.

“I'll explain in the morning, love,” she whispered before exiting the room. She heard movements from inside the bedroom as she walked past it to Sarah's.

She decided she had to stay strong for Henry and Sarah. They were too young to understand that their mummy had just caught Daddy in bed with his mistress. She would think of something to explain to them as she packed Sarah's things. She quickly finished and placed the boxes in the front pocket of her sweater- Harry's sweater. Her head suddenly filled of images of Harry walking around in his nearly see through t-shirt. How could she not have noticed before? Shaking her head, she pulled her daughter out of her bed. Sarah squirmed slightly so she could rest comfortably in her mother's arms. She walked into the hall where Henry was waiting for her. Hermione minimised his bag and placed it in her pocket.

“Grab my arm, Henry, and don't let go,” she whispered as Ron opened the bedroom door, looking highly dishevelled.

“Hermione-” he pleaded.

“Goodbye Ronald,” said Hermione softly before she disapparated with a crack.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a dimly lit sitting room. Henry let go of her arm, but stood protectively beside his mother. Harry appeared within seconds looking concerned and holding a mug of tea. She locked eyes with him and he simply nodded. Placing his mug on the glass coffee table, he stepped forward.

“Henry, do you like Quidditch?” he asked softly.

“Yes!” he replied enthusiastically.

“That's great. So do I; I used to play,” Harry explained in the same voice. “It just so happens that the room you're sleeping in is full of Quidditch things.”

“Really?” said Henry, quickly taking Harry's hand. Hermione smiled weakly.

“Follow me,” said Harry leading them towards a narrow oak staircase.

“Your flat's beautiful,” commented Hermione.

“Thanks,” replied Harry as he swung open the first door on the left. “Like it?” he questioned Henry, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Yeah,” the boy managed to get out as he clambered on the bed to get a better look at Harry's Firebolt, which was encased and mounted on the wall, along with a collection of other broomsticks and signed Quidditch jerseys.

“Henry,” said Hermione gently as she shifted Sarah carefully in her arms, “you can admire Harry's unhealthy collection of Quidditch memorabilia in the morning.”

“Mum-” Henry wined, but his mother cut him off.

“Henry. Bed.”

Henry exhaled furiously and plopped down on the bed and reluctantly kissed his mother on the cheek before climbing under the covers of the bed. Hermione ruffled her son's hair before Harry led her across the hall to another room. Hermione placed Sarah on the over sized bed and pulled her teddy bear out from her pocket and gently placed it beside her daughter. Kissing her head lightly, she allowed Harry to gently lead her out of the room.

Harry led her down the hall and up a small flight of stairs where there were three doors. He opened the first one and flicked on the light. “Is it alright?” he asked her as she walked in slowly.

“It's beautiful,” she said quietly as she sat down on the bed and stared at her hands.

“I made tea,” began Harry cautiously, “would you like some?”

“Do you have anything stronger?” Hermione inquired dully.

“Wine, Firewhisky, beer-”

“A glass of wine would be lovely.”

“I'll be right back.”

He hesitated leaving her there alone. He took one last glance at her before turning on his heel and walked silently out of the room. Running a hand through his unruly hair, he sighed as he walked past Henry and Sarah's bedrooms. They didn't deserve what was going to be ahead of them, he thought. He was sure that Hermione wouldn't forgive Ron for this. She had known, yet, she hadn't said a word. She wanted to keep their family together as long as possible. A divorce in the Weasley clan was practically unheard of. But Harry had an itch this was going to be the first one the family had seen in a very, very long time.

Harry flicked the light on as he entered his kitchen. He silently took two wine glasses off the hanging rack and removed a bottle of red wine from the refrigerator and closed the door with his hip. He used his wandless magic to turn off the lights before silently padding down the hall and up the small staircase.

He found Hermione leaning back against the pillows, shoes and socks removed, staring moodily at the wall facing her.

“This bed is comfortable,” she grumbled.

“Here's your wine,” responded Harry as he handed her a glass.

“Thank you.”

“Harry,” whispered Hermione.

“Yes?”

“How many bedrooms are there in here?”

“Supposed to be seven, but two of them are acting as storage and as my office,” he explained.

“Why so many?”

“I guess I figured I'd get here, find a woman and have a family.”

“A big one, by the looks of this place.”

“I'd love to have a big one,” he responded truthfully.

“Any ideas of your future wife?”

“I did, but it's too late now.”

“It's never too late.”

“I think her husband would get suspicious if their new child came out with black hair and green eyes.”

“Ah,” said Hermione as she set her glass down on the floor. “I'm sure she'd leave him for you, to be honest, Harry.”

“I doubt it.” He chuckled.

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“Hermione?”

“Mmm.”

“I have to go to bed. I've got work in the morning, and it's nearly two,” he explained softly.

“Stay with me,” she whispered as she snuggled in closer to his chest.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” He argued.

“Why not?”

“What if Sarah and Henry come in?”

“I understand now,” she whispered as he eased her off of him and gently laid her under the blankets.

“I'll see you in the morning,” whispered Harry as he gave her a look of longing as he left the room. Even though they'd only been around each other again for a few hours, it felt as if little time had passed

x-x-x-x-x

Ron had been everywhere trying to find Hermione. He finally ruled out that she must have gone straight to Harry. Of course, Harry hadn't mentioned to him where he was living, all he knew was from what Hermione had vaguely said about him living in a flat somewhere on the other side of town. And knowing Harry, he was living amongst the Muggle millionaires in the flats in the Kensington area, he thought bitterly.

Ever since Harry had returned, there was something about him he didn't quite trust. He seemed much calmer than the Harry he remembered, more soft spoken. But it wasn't that that bothered him. It was what Harry was capable of. He had heard stories from his fellow co-workers who had actually seen Harry in action in Australia. He was unbeatable. From what he had heard, the Australian government was practically on their knees begging for their top Auror to stay on the force. He had taken out some of the Death Eaters that the Aurors in England couldn't even see. He was full of knowledge on any subject that dealt with dark magic, wizard hunting, or anything of the kind. Harry Potter had become a Ministry of Magic's wet dream. Ron knew fully well that if Harry didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. This meant where ever Harry was, Hermione was too.

He had even apparated to Kensington Gardens, to the area where he had lived before, and checked with the landlords to see if they had any tenants by the name of Harry Potter. He checked three places and received the same answer from all of them: They weren't allowed to reveal their tenants' identities, for the sake of privacy. And since they were all Muggles, he was unable to flash his Department of Magical Law Enforcement badge.

Defeated, he had returned back to the house to find Lavender waiting for him with a sad expression and a mug of tea. After draining his mug, he had fallen into an uneasy sleep. The next morning, breakfast between him and Lavender was a silent affair. She left for her flat to get ready for work. Ron dressed silently and disapparated to Diagon Alley. Hermione's shop was closed. He then disapparated to his mother's, to find Henry and Sarah there, but no Hermione. His mum had explained that Hermione had dropped them off before heading `home'. She apparently was coming down with something, and didn't want it around the children. He was thankful for her clever lie; he wasn't ready to explain the whole situation to a fuming Molly Weasley. He had to add on to the lie by saying that Hermione must have gone to Diagon Alley to get something for her headache, and left before any more questions were asked.

He was presently standing in a crowded lift that was full of Aurors. He had every intention of going into Harry's office and demanding to see his wife. Finally, the lift clambered to a stop, and its occupants filed out. Ron pushed his way though a crowd of trainees and stormed down the hallway towards Harry's private office at the end. He threw open the door to see Harry rummaging through a filing cabinet, looking slightly frustrated.

“Potter,” Ron began heatedly.

“Ron,” acknowledged Harry without looking up.

“Where's Hermione?” he demanded, closing the door and stepped forward.

“Sleeping,” he responded simply.

“Where?”

“In a bed, on the couch, across the billiards table, I don't know.”

“Quit being a smart ass and let me see my wife!”

Harry sighed as he sat down at his desk and gently massaged his temples. “Ron, sit.”

Reluctantly, Ron sank into the straight-backed chair in front of Harry's desk.

“Hermione showed up at my flat last night in tears,” he began. “She told me about the- how did she phrase it? - Reports? She found you heavily involved in a `report' last night, I understand?”

“That's none of your business,” said Ron rudely.

“That's where you're wrong,” stated Harry. “What upsets Hermione concerns me. You have no idea how unbelievably hard it is for me to sit here now without snapping your neck.”

“I want to see her!” he shouted.

“She doesn't want to see you,” said Harry through gritted teeth, “and I respect her wishes.”

“You should have just stayed in Australia,” whispered Ron, his face inches from Harry's. “You haven't been back two weeks and everything's already gone to shit.”

x-x-x-x-x

When Harry returned home that night, he was met by the smell of something cooking in his oven. Frowning slightly, he followed the sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He rounded the corner to find Hermione chopping vegetables on the small island in the centre of the kitchen, while Henry and Sarah sat on stools, Henry reading a book to Sarah.

“Hey,” said Harry as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Do you always get home this late?” questioned Hermione.

“No, I got held up.” he said plainly as he twisted the plastic cap off a bottle of water.

“Talk later?” she whispered as he walked by her.

“Please,” he responded, “what're you cooking?”

“I made a roast; I'm just chopping up some vegetables.”

“You shouldn't have. You're guests here.”

“The children were getting hungry.”

“Good excuse,” grinned Harry, “want me to do anything?”

“Dispose of these vegetable peelings.”

Harry took out his wand and magically rid of the compost before sliding onto a bar stool. He pressed the tips of his fingers into his eyes while exhaling slowly.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“Tired. I'll be fine later.”

“Harry?” questioned Henry.

“Yes?”

“What's this word?”

Harry leaned over the younger boy's shoulder and said “quintessential.”

“What's that mean?”

“The best example of something.”

“That's a silly word,” said Sarah.

Harry chuckled. “Indeed.”

“Dinner's ready,” came Hermione's soft voice.

The two children rushed immediately across the room and sat down at Harry's small dinner table.

“I'll eat in my office,” explained Harry. “I have some files to go through.”

“I'll join you in a moment after these two are settled?” she suggested.

“If you wish,” replied Harry as he disappeared up the staircase.

Once inside the safety of his office, he set down the plate and collapsed in his chair. Ron was right. Everything changed as soon as he came back. Ron's wife had left him, and was now staying with him, and he found himself looking at Hermione in ways he had forbid himself to think about. After returning to England, he swore he wouldn't think of her in any more ways than his best friend. Anything else would bring him back to square one, which made him leave England in the first place. He was treating her children like they were his own… He knew Ron would be furious. Yet, Harry was strangely content. He desperately wanted children of his own. He dared himself to think how everyone would react if he went back to Australia. He was sure Hermione and Molly couldn't stand it, Ron would think he had won… But he was sure Hermione would chase him down there and either drag him back by his ear or she would stay there with him. She had said the previous night she was going to divorce Ron whether he liked it or not. He could be with Lavender and Hermione could move on with her life.

Sighing, Harry propped his head up on his hand and lazily wove his fork through the smooth mashed potatoes on his plate. He didn't bother to look up when Hermione entered his office. She silently sat down in the leather chair across from his desk and removed the fork from between his fingers.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly.

“Fine. Contemplating.”

“Contemplating what?”

Harry remained silent as he picked up his fork and took a bite of roast beef.

“Contemplating what?” Hermione repeated.

He didn't respond.

“What did Ron say to you?” she demanded furiously as she rose to her feet.

“It doesn't matter-”

“It matters to me,” she continued as she started pacing the room, with her arms folded.

Harry leaned back in the leather executive chair and mumbled “he said everything went to shit after I came back.”

Hermione stared. “I can't believe him!” she shouted.

“Hermione calm down-”

“I will not calm down-”

“Hermione Jane Granger!” said Harry loudly. At the use of her full name, she slumped down into her chair.

“He had no right-”

“I know that,” he said softly.

“You don't deserve it.”

“Maybe I do,” he said flatly.

“No you don't,” argued Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked over to the large window and stared out over the city.

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked softly as she stood beside him.

“You wouldn't understand,” he said simply.

“Try me.”

“No.”

“Harry-”

“Henry and Sarah are probably finished.” He stated. It sounded harsher than he intended.

Slightly taken aback, Hermione stepped away from him and exited his office quickly. She quickly entered the kitchen and found that indeed, Henry and Sarah were finished with their dinner.

“Go get ready for bed,” she said softly.

Sensing some discomfort with their mother, they obeyed silently as Hermione cleared their plates and headed to the sink. She proceeded to fill it with warm water and soap. Apparently, old habits died hard.

“Need some help?” Harry asked.

She simply nodded as he picked up a towel and silently started to dry their dishes.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier,” he apologized.

“It's alright. But why won't you tell me what's bothering you?”

Harry was silent for several minutes. “I'm not ready.”

“I see.”

“I promise I'll tell you eventually.”

“I'll be waiting,” she said, smiling faintly. “Watch Henry and Sarah for me tonight?”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm serving Ron with the papers. I picked them up today.”

“Wasted no time.”

“He'll be free to be with her.”

x-x-x-x-x

When Ron entered his house that night, he found a trail of candles floating in the air signalling for him to follow them. Smiling faintly, he hung his coat up in the closet and kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. He was surprised to find that the candle trail did not head up the stairs towards the bedroom, but down the hallway towards the back of the house, where the kitchen was. Frowning slightly he pushed open the door and instantaneously, all the candles were extinguished and he was plunged into total darkness. He quickly drew out his wand.

“Hello?” he called sharply.

A single candle burned on the kitchen table, illuminating none other than Hermione.

“Lower your wand,” she said plainly. “We need to talk.”

“Where are Henry and Sarah?” he demanded.

“Sit,” said Hermione simply, gesturing to the seat across from her.

Ron flicked on the light switch before slowly sitting down across from his estranged wife. He noticed the official looking file folder underneath her neatly folded hands.

“I went into the Ministry today,” she began quietly, “and had these papers drawn up. They already contain my signature. They just require yours.”

“You were dreadfully quick with them,” he began suspiciously.

“I don't want something that's going to put our children through hell. I want it quick and clean.”

“When do I see Henry and Sarah?”

“Whenever you wish.”

“But they'll be living with you?”

“For the time being.”

“Are they okay?”

“I explained the situation to them today. They're understandably upset.”

“Why are you being so curt with me?”

Hermione exhaled and uncrossed her legs and leaned on her elbows. “You had no right bursting into Harry's office today like you did. He has nothing to do with this. He's kind enough to let me, and our children, occupy his home

Ron's face turned the infamous Weasley red straight up to the tips of his ears and furiously said “what goes on between Harry and I doesn't concern you!”

“In fact, it does.”

“Of course it does. Harry's always come first-”

“We were in the middle of a war, Ron. Of course I was concerned about him!” Hermione shouted shrilly. “You never understood that! Whether we were involved in a war or not, you believed that my priorities should have been to make you happy!”

“That's not true!”

“Yes it is!” She screamed as she stood up and slammed the papers down in front of him.

Somewhat startled by her fury, Ron immediately produced a quill and an inkbottle. With a shaky hand, he placed his name thrice on separate pieces of official looking parchment.

“So this is how it ends” said Hermione softly.

“This is how it ends,” he agreed.

“We'll announce it at Sunday dinner?” she offered as the parchment glowed a bright white, and disintegrated, along with the wedding bands on their fingers.

“Sounds like a plan,” sighed Ron. “But I'd like to wait a while.”

“How long?”

“Is a month alright?”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “See you Sunday,” whispered Hermione, “I'll be by later in the week to retrieve the rest of my things.”

x-x-x-x-x

When Hermione arrived back at the flat, she found its owner asleep on the couch. Smiling faintly, she approached the couch and sat down beside him. “Harry?”

“Home so soon?” he croaked.

“We had a little shouting match,” she said simply as she held her left hand up to his face.

“I didn't imagine he would have given in so easily,” he whispered as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“He wants to be with Lavender… I just knew it...”

“I guess. She has grown up a lot… I hope they've moved on from their Won-Won stage,” chuckled Harry.

“Me too,” she agreed.

“How do you plan on telling Henry and Sarah?” questioned Harry.

“I already told them,” she explained.

“That's why they were quiet when I arrived home from work?”

“Yes.”

x-x-x-x-x

The weeks went by agonisingly slow. Harry appeared to have fallen into a routine. He had started getting up earlier, helping Hermione with breakfast and getting Henry and Sarah ready for them to go to Molly's. The Weasley's had no idea about the divorce of Ron and Hermione, but at as Sunday drew nearer, they were as close as ever to finding out.

Ron and Hermione had lunch together on Friday to discuss what exactly they were going to say. They decided that they would leave the part about Ron having an affair out, as they felt it was their business only, not the entire Weasley clan's. Ron still hadn't said a word to Harry since the incident in his office, and both men seemed to be fine with their arrangement for the time being.

When Sunday morning finally dawned on them, the Potter-Granger-Weasley home was in chaos. Sarah and Henry had discovered the joys of Sunday morning cartoons and Hermione was having trouble prying them away from the television in the sitting room. Harry seemed to have chosen to have a bit of a lie-in, which somewhat irked Hermione, as she had grown used to him up with her every morning. Once she had Sarah and Henry settled with a feast for breakfast, she decided to wake Harry.

Padding up the staircase, she realised she hadn't set foot in Harry's room since she arrived a week ago. In fact, she had never even seen the inside. Curiosity growing, she slowly eased Harry's bedroom door open. She was slightly surprised.

She had sort of expected a bachelor's bedroom, clothes strewn everywhere, with a mattress on the floor, but she was proved wrong. Harry had a knack for decorating and his room was impossibly clean (from the years of living with the Dursleys?) The room was modern. All of his bedroom furniture was made of a fine oak which, she was sure, the sun's rays would reflect off when the curtains were open through the four floor-to-ceiling panel windows the windows opened up onto a balcony and Hermione now understood why Harry retreated into his bedroom every evening just before sunset. Sighing, she knocked on his door.

“Harry?” she called.

Her reply was a strangled groan from the bed's lone occupant.

“Harry!”

“It's Sunday,” he groaned. “Let me sleep-”

“Harry get up,” Hermione said, grinning as she strode into his room and threw open the curtains.

“What the fuck Hermione…” Harry whispered as he buried his eyes in the pillow.

“Get up,” she repeated.

“I'm up! I'm up!” he said loudly as he struggled to sit up.

“Come on then,” said Hermione brightly as she pulled on his arm and dragged him out of bed.

“What's the rush?” he questioned, “we aren't due to be at Molly's for another three hours.”

“I made breakfast.”

“That's an understatement,” replied Harry as they walked into the kitchen and Harry laid eyes on the feast before him. “How are we supposed to eat at Molly's?”

“We'll find a way,” said Hermione.

Almost an hour later, Hermione had sent Henry and Sarah over to see Ron before Sunday dinner. Harry had retreated into his bedroom to shower and get ready leaving Hermione to have some alone time.

She couldn't help but think about Harry. She knew something was bothering him and she couldn't figure it out for the life of her. She thought he might have been annoyed with Sarah and Henry running around, but he seemed to enjoy their presence in his home. She had returned the previous night from getting milk to find Harry sitting with them on the floor in the sitting room, teaching them how to play Gobstones. It appeared that having her children around obviously wasn't the problem. He seemed a bit tense about the row he and Ron had at work, but Harry had been acting strange long before that incident had even occurred and for once in her life, Hermione Granger didn't know the answer to a question. She was going to pry it out of Harry whether he wanted her to know or not.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist as he entered the empty bedroom. He put on a pair of boxer shorts and loose fitting jeans before he turned to the closet. He threw on a loose black button down shirt before emerging into the hallway. Hermione's door was closed. He stepped forward and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” she called.

Harry slowly pushed open the door to reveal Hermione slipping into a pair of shoes. “Ready?” she asked.

“My trainers are by the door,” he explained as he followed her down the hallway.

Five minutes later, they were both standing in the Weasley's sitting room.

“Aunt Hermione!” cried George's eldest son, Jacob.

“Jacob, you've gotten taller!” exclaimed Hermione as she kissed her nephew on the top of his head.

“Hello Harry,” welcomed Molly as she embraced him and kissed him on the cheek.

“How are you Molly?” asked Harry politely.

“Oh as well as can be expected, dearie.”

“Wonderful.”

“It really is a coincidence that you and Hermione arrived at the same time.”

“Hermione was at my flat,” he explained, chuckling, “she wanted to make sure I was up on time this week.”

“Smart girl,” said Molly before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Yeah she is…”

“Hey mate,” came Ron's voice from behind him.

“Hey,” replied Harry.

“I'm sorry about earlier this week,” he said quietly.

Harry exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “You're forgiven. It still doesn't mean I'm still waiting for the chance to have a go at you.”

“It still stands for you as well, Potter,” grinned Ron.

“Hermione's the only thing keeping us in line.”

“It's a shame.”

“Are you two making your `announcement' during or after?”

“After,” he explained. “It's better when everyone's seated in the sitting room instead of at the table where my chances of disapparating are delayed.”

“I see.”

Ron was silent for several minutes as they sat outside in the sun watching the children run around.

“How is she?” he asked finally.

“She's coping well,” replied Harry.

“Has she mentioned why she showed up at your flat in the middle of the night?”

Harry exhaled. “I was there right before she went in and uh ... found you. She and I were talking, and lost track of time. By the time we returned, Henry and Sarah had fallen asleep on the couch,” he explained quietly, “I helped her get them home… That's when we heard noises. She told me to go home, and started getting frantic where she was going to go… I offered to take her in…”

“I see.”

“What're you two talking about?” came Hermione's voice.

“Not much, love,” said Ron loudly as Arthur looked toward them. “Harry's a firm believer that the Cannons will win this year.”

“Oh?” she leaned in.

“I was explaining how you showed up at my flat last week,” whispered Harry.

“Oh. Are you alright, Ron?”

“I'm coping. You?”

“It's a little hard,” she confessed.

“I'll leave you two,” said Harry. He stood up and quickly made his way over to Arthur.

“I always knew you loved him,” began Ron.

“Ron-”

“Let me finish,” he said quietly as he closed his eyes. “I hated him for it. I think a part of me always will. Harry loved you. You loved Harry, and why you stayed with me, I'll always wonder … did you love him way back then, too, Hermione?”

“Ron…”

“Answer it, Hermione.”

“I tried to tell myself it was you I wanted to be with for so long… I was so worried about Harry… I kept telling myself it was just worry I felt for him…”

“I know.”

“He doesn't love me that way.”

“How do you know?” challenged Ron.

“I don't,” she confessed.

“I know he does…”

“How?” she replied harshly.

Ron sighed and stared at his ex-wife. “Right after he sent that letter to Mum saying he wasn't coming back from Australia. I figured it out then. I had always suspected it, but that confirmed it.

“Think about it, Hermione. Right after we announced our engagement, he left and hasn't shown his face in England for ten years… I see it in the way he looks at you… Longing. Desire.”

“I think that's the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say,” said Hermione.

“I'm finally able to be with the love of my life, Hermione. It's time you got to be with yours.” Ron breathed in her ear as he stood up and went to go keep an eye on Henry as he played on his toy broomstick.

“Is everything okay, Hermione?” came Harry's voice.

Hermione looked up into his piercing emerald green gaze and smiled, “Everything's fine, Harry.”

“Did you and Ron have a pleasant chat?” he asked as they walked towards the long table in the heart of the garden that was virtually groaning under the weight of Mrs. Weasley's fine cuisine.

“We sorted a lot of things out,” she said as she took her seat beside him. “He's taking the children until Wednesday. So you can enjoy some quiet around the flat. I'll be as quiet as a mouse.”

“Hardly,” he laughed. “I love having you around.”

At this, she flushed as she busied herself with scooping peas onto her plate.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione was growing nervous by the minute. Ron was sitting to her left, while Harry was on her right. She had both of her support systems on either side of her. She should have felt fine, instead, she felt very much afraid.

Ron cleared his throat and stood up, then helped Hermione to her feet. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Harry, who gave her an encouraging smile.

“Everyone?” Ron began quietly. “Hermione and I have given this a lot of thought- separately- but only recently we decided to put our thoughts into actions. Hermione and I have been best friends since we were eleven, and we both love each other dearly, just not in the way we both deserve to be loved… A week ago, we finalised our divorce.”

The room remained silent for several minutes.

“Are you serious?” Molly asked quietly.

“Yes mum,” said Ron gently.

“If it's for the best… And you both are happier this way… We accept that,” Arthur said finally.

“Thank you, Arthur, it means a lot to us, really it does,” said Hermione as she sat back down.

“Where have you been staying, dear?”

“With Harry, he's been so kind to let Sarah, Henry, and I stay with him for the time being.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry flicked on the lights in the sitting room as Hermione apparated beside him. He had been unusually quiet for the whole evening.

“Harry?”

“Yes?” he replied quickly, spinning around to face her.

“Please tell me what's wrong,” she whispered, gently reaching up and placed her hand on his cheek.

“Hermione…” he whispered. “I can't.”

“You can't, or you won't?”

-->

4. Chapter 3

She watched as he bit back his reply and turned away from her, quickly heading up the stairs towards his bedroom. Hermione took off after him.

“Don't shut me out, Harry, please,” she pleaded as he quickly closed the door and locked it. Hermione quickly took out her wand and unlocked it, letting the door swing open. She gasped as Harry backed her out and pressed her against the hallway wall. She was suddenly aware of how close he was to her.

“You have no idea--” he began in a low, shaky voice, “--to force yourself to stay away from the one thing you've ever wanted for fourteen years. Torturing yourself everyday knowing it'll never be yours, no matter how much you want it to be. Then, for some stupid reason, you go home, and hurt yourself every day seeing the one person you've ever truly loved with another. Then some miracle occurs, and it's practically handed to you on a silver platter. And you suddenly don't know what to do with yourself; your world has suddenly been turned upside down because everything you've dreamed of suddenly seems possible. Do you have any idea what that's like, Hermione?”

“Yes, I do,” she said harshly, as she laced her fingers with his, both of them holding on for dear life. “It's always been you, Harry. Always,” she whispered in his ear.

x-x-x-x-x

His lips were on hers in a heartbeat. She instantly let go of his hands and ran her fingers through the mess of curls on top of his head, down his neck and his back. She gripped the hem of his jumper and pulled it up. He temporarily broke their kiss to throw his shirt in the centre of the hallway. Harry picked her up and brought her into his bedroom, and slammed the door shut with his foot, and toppled down on top of the bed.

Harry fumbled blindly with the buttons on her blouse for several moments before he was staring at her bare chest. He slowly rained kisses down her neck, in the hollow of her throat and across her chest before he took her erect nipple into his mouth. In response, she threaded her fingers into his hair and moaned. He gently pulled with his teeth and then licked it before turning his attention to the other one as he dipped the tips of his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and pulled them down along with her knickers down to her ankles. Her nimble fingers flew to the button of his jeans and pulled down his zipper. Harry climbed off her to remove the remainder of his clothing before rejoining her on the bed.

She fit perfectly in his arms, like a missing piece to a puzzle. He loved the way her thigh felt against his rough palm, the way she made him feel was like nothing he had ever felt before. He was determined to make it work.

Harry finally pulled away from her and carefully settled himself between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance. He stared at her flushed face, desire darkened eyes, and her bruised lips from their intense kisses as he slowly thrust himself inside of her.

“Oh gods…” she whispered into his neck as he slowly began to move.

“Are you alright?”

He was rewarded with a moan.

Hermione exploded around Harry, and instantly began seeing stars as her whole body shook. He followed soon after, then collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Finally, Harry found his strength slowly slid out of her, and rolled to the side.

She hated to admit it, but Ron had never made her feel that good after sex. Sex had seemed like a chore to them. With Harry, it was different. It somehow felt right. They both remained silent as Hermione curled into his tight embrace and buried her head in his chest and closed her eyes as he subconsciously played with her hair.

“Harry?” she whispered.

“Yes?” he replied softly.

“You still haven't told me what's been upsetting you,” she said, moving out of his embrace to lie on her side facing him.

“It's complicated,” he began awkwardly.

“Try me.”

Harry remained silent as he absent-mindedly began picking at the navy blue duvet. “I've told you before,” He said simply.

“A baby,” she said quietly. “Oh Harry- I'm so sorry… It must be horrible-”

“No, it's not horrible having Henry and Sarah here,” he whispered. “It's great. But it's just one of those things, you know? I can't help but wishing I had a kid of my own…”

“I can give you a baby, Harry,” she whispered in his ear as she wove her arms around his neck. “As many as you want.”

“Hermione…” he groaned as she pressed her body against his, she felt his immediate reaction against her stomach.

“I want to be with you,” she continued as his hands came to a rest on her waist.

“I want to be with you too,” he answered as she kissed him lazily.

“We can have children together.”

“Don't you think we're rushing-” he tried to sound sensible, but lost the ability to form coherent thoughts after she slid on top of him, and gently began rocking her hips.

x-x-x-x-x

The next morning, Harry awoke warm and feeling strangely content. Looking down, he saw Hermione still asleep in his embrace. He instantly felt a twinge of panic. Did she really want to be with him? Was he just a different bed for her to sleep on while she was on the rebound? Harry mentally kicked himself. This was Hermione. She wouldn't use him like that. She wasn't that kind of person, and that's why he fell in love with her.

Love. Did she love him the way he loved her? The things she was saying to him last night about them starting a family together… To hell with them rushing into things. They loved each other and wanted to be together. They had wanted the impossible for so long, to hell with taking things slow.

She began to stir as he slowly eased himself from under her.

“Harry?” she whispered.

“I'm going to the loo. I'll be right back,” he told her as he slid into his boxer shorts and walked across the room.

“Alright,” she whispered as she sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest as it all came flooding back to her.

She had made love to Harry. Twice. It seemed so surreal. She was with Harry. She never thought this day would come. She remembered saying something about them having a family together. She may already have two children with Ron, but she had always wished she had started a family with Harry. She loved Sarah and Henry to death and wouldn't go back and change a thing for the world, but she and Harry needed this. Harry never had a family that cared for him, and he deserved it. Every time Harry touched her, he made her burn with desire. Deep down inside, she knew Harry was the one she was supposed to be with. She had always known it.

Her face lit up as Harry re-entered the bedroom, looking extremely tired and with his hair dishevelled.

“I'm sending an owl in sick. I'm overtired,” he announced.

“Are you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as he climbed back into the bed.

“I am. I'm afraid that if I show up at work, I'll fall asleep as soon as my arse hits the chair.”

“You're full of it,” she laughed as she laid her head on his chest.

“I'm serious.”

“Go get in the shower. You have a department to run.”

“But-”

“Harry-” He cut her off by placing his lips against hers and laying her down on the bed. She pushed him off. “I'm serious.”

“So was I.”

“Go!” she said, pointing towards the bathroom.

“Fine…” he groaned, sliding off the bed and walking into the bathroom.

Harry gently closed the door and pressed his forehead against the cool wood panel, exhaling. He would have loved to stay in bed with her all day, but as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He did have a department to run, and couldn't afford to miss a day this early into his career.

x-x-x-x-x

The Auror department was full of life when he arrived. An aggravated Minister for Magic, Lyon Bates, immediately met him as soon as he stepped off the lift.

“You're late, Potter,” he growled.

“I'm sorry sir, I was tied up at home-”
“You're unmarried with no children, what could possibly tie you up?”

“My girlfriend who has children?” he replied simply as they headed down the long corridor towards the offices. “What brings you down here, Minister?”

“Two of your Aurors showed up at a muggle apartment complex in Wiltshire last night, without a search warrant, to an unsuspecting American muggle's residence, with the crazy thought that he was the rogue wizard Ken Henshaw under the disguise of polyjuice.”

Harry exhaled as he threw open the door to his office to see Aurors Tate and Woodrow sitting uneasily in the leather seats in front of his desk.

“I don't know where to begin,” he began heatedly as he sat down across from them, green eyes blazing. “Who or what planted that fucking insane idea in your heads?”

“No one, sir- we had a lead,” Tate whispered as she picked unnecessarily at the lint on the end of her sleeve.

“You know full well that if you have lead, you're supposed to come straight to me? Or if I'm unavailable, the assistant head of department!” he continued as Bates stood at the back of the room, arms crossed.

“We weren't thinking-- We were too excited,” Woodrow admitted guiltily.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “You're both dropped from this case, and suspended from field work for six months.”

Tate opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut her off.

“Get out of my office before I suspend you.”

“Yes sir,” they said in unison before scrambling past the Minister for Magic and out of the office.

“You handled that well, Potter,” said Bates finally.

“Thank you Minister,” replied Harry as he stood up and went straight to the filing cabinet to retrieve Woodrow and Tate's files.

“I don't much approve of your language, but everyone has their own ways of dealing with things.”

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“I'll leave you to your work,” he said finally, before stepping out of the office.

Harry exhaled and lowered himself down into his seat and closed his eyes. He had been joking with Hermione earlier about falling asleep at work, and now he was beginning to think it was a definite possibility. Yawning loudly, Harry picked up his quill and began to write.

x-x-x-x-x

Two months had past since Harry and Hermione had started their relationship. They were quiet about it, having only told Ron. They hadn't said anything to Henry and Sarah yet, as Ron hadn't told them about his relationship with Lavender. Harry had taken to sleeping in Hermione's room and getting up at five a.m. so Henry or Sarah wouldn't catch them. They knew it was getting ridiculous and had to tell them, along with the entire Weasley family, sooner rather than later.

Harry reluctantly closed the door to Hermione's bedroom and stifled a yawn as he headed down the stairs towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. To his surprise, he found Henry sitting alone at the kitchen table clutching a glass of milk.

“I was thirsty,” he said flatly.

“So was I,” replied Harry as he poured himself a cool glass of water from the jug in the fridge then slid into the chair transversely from the redheaded boy. “Is every thing alright?”

“Why did mum and dad get a divorce?” he demanded.

Harry looked slightly taken aback. “Henry, it's not my place to explain it to you, nor is it the time.”

“Oh.”

“If you ask your mum, she'll tell you, I'm sure.”

“Okay,” Henry shrugged, and slid out of his seat, and placed his glass in the sink. “Thanks.” He muttered and left the kitchen without another word.

Sighing, Harry followed suit and disappeared up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Hours later, Harry awoke to the steady beeping of his alarm clock. Groaning audibly, he rolled over on his side and turned off the alarm and was instantly plunged into a welcomed silence. Harry forced himself out of bed and across the room; he swung open his door to reveal Hermione standing on the other side. She jumped back in surprise.

“Morning,” she said awkwardly, standing on the tips of her toes to receive a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked seriously, stepping aside as she strode past him and into his room and he closed the door.

“I-I've been keeping something from you,” she whispered as she sat down on the edge of his unmade bed and began toying with the hem of her silk nightgown.

“Oh?” said Harry, arching an eyebrow as he sat down beside her.

“I've been sick in the morning for the past few weeks, that's why I've been coming down for breakfast late…” she began quietly, finally lifting her head to meet his intense green stare.

“Are you…?” he began softly, his hand reaching up to cup her face.

“Pregnant,” she finished for him.

“For sure?”

“I performed the charm this morning.”

Harry turned away from her and exhaled. He got to his feet and crossed the room and threw open the curtains to stare out over the city.

“Harry, please say something,” Hermione pleaded as she joined his side.

“It's all happening so fast,” he whispered as he turned to face her.

“I know,” she replied, searching his face for any emotion.

“How far along are you?”

“Two months.”

“So that means-”

“The night we first made love.”

“This is amazing,” he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.

“I was so scared,” she whispered into his chest.

“Of what?” he replied as they parted.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the foolish grin that had graced his features. “I don't know. We aren't married, haven't been together for too long-- I just thought you might take it the wrong way--”

“Hermione, don't ever think that,” said Harry seriously. “I've- we've wanted this for so long; it's finally happening.”

“I know. We really don't have an excuse anymore; we have to tell Henry, Sarah, and the rest of the Weasleys. It would be suspicious if I gave birth and they were expecting red hair and it came out black.”

“Yeah…”

“We're going to have a baby,” he whispered as he pulled her close to him and began to bring her lips to meet his.

“NO!” shouted a voice from the doorway.

Harry and Hermione sprang apart to see Henry staring at them, his face as red as his ears.

“THAT'S WHY YOU AND DAD DIVORCED!” he shouted, “BECAUSE OF HIM!”

“Henry-” Hermione began, but he cut her off.

“THAT'S WHY YOU WOULDN'T TELL ME! BECAUSE IT'S YOUR FAULT!” he shouted at Harry before running out of their sight. Seconds later, they heard his bedroom door slam.

“What's he talking about?” inquired Hermione as Harry moved to his dresser to put on a t-shirt.

“This morning, after I left, I went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and he was sitting at the table. He looked troubled, so I asked him what was wrong and he asked why you and Ron had separated. I didn't feel it was my place to tell him, and that's what I told him. He just shrugged and walked out.”

“I'll go get dressed and try to talk to him,” Hermione whispered before placing a kiss on his cheek and walked out of the room. Harry exhaled as he slid into a pair of jeans and walked down towards the kitchen. He rounded a corner and nearly bumped into Sarah.

“There's a man at the door who wants to see you. But I didn't let him in,” she announced.

“Okay,” Harry said, picking Sarah up and wandered through the sitting room.

“Can I go see Mummy?”

“Not right now, she's having a talk with Henry,” explained Harry as he unlocked the door and swung it open to reveal his landlord.

“Mr. Potter?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I received a call from a few tenants about shouting. Is everything alright?”

“Sarah, go brush your teeth.” Harry whispered as he set her down.

“But-”

“Sarah. Teeth.”

“Okay,” she said happily and bound out of the entry.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Jennings. My girlfriend's son took some news of ours the wrong way,” he gestured helplessly.

Peter Jennings cocked an eyebrow. “I don't appreciate being lied to, Mr. Potter. The tenants of this building prefer to live comfortably, in silence.”

“My girlfriend and I just found out we're having a baby,” admitted Harry. “We haven't exactly told her children that we're together. Her son walked in on us and he overreacted. She's talking to him now.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Potter, I understand. But in the future, please remember that there are other people who live here.”

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again.”

“Can I stop brushing my teeth now?” Sarah yelled.

“Yes Sarah,” called Harry as he closed the door and walked into the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Pancakes,” she announced as she slid on top of one of the bar stools.

“Pancakes it is.”

“What was Henry shouting about earlier?” she asked innocently.

“Wait until your mum gets here.”

“Okay,” she said simply as Hermione walked back into the kitchen.

“Harry?” she said softly.

“Are you alright?” He asked immediately.

“Mummy, why are you crying?” asked Sarah.

“It's nothing, baby,” she whispered as she allowed Harry to embrace her. “What happened?”

“I tried explaining it to him. I mentioned the baby and it just made it worse,” she explained. “He hates us.”

“I'm flooing Ron.”

“Baby?” asked Sarah excitedly.

“Yes, honey,” said Hermione, smiling faintly. “Harry and I are going to have a baby. You're going to have a new brother or sister in seven months.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Harry smiled faintly as he kissed the side of Hermione's head and headed into the living room. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the glass pot on the hearth and threw it into the grate. He stepped in, shouted his destination, and was whisked away in a flash of emerald. He stumbled into the sunlit living room of Ron and Lavender's flat. Shortly after their divorce, Ron and Hermione agreed to sell the house.

“Morning Harry,” said Lavender as she appeared from the kitchen clutching a mug of tea.

“Ron up yet?” he questioned.

“No,” she answered. “Would you like me to wake him?”

“Please. Tell him it's important.”

“Help yourself to some tea. It may take a while.”

Harry laughed. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down on the couch.

He finally had a moment to allow the morning's events to sink in. He was going to be a father- He and Hermione were going to be parents. He was so nervous, scared, and excited all at the same time. He didn't know how to react at first. His first initial reaction was to lift Hermione into the air, snog her senseless and shout it from the rooftops, but since their relationship was still a secret, that was impossible. He tried to let the information sink in, but it somehow just wouldn't.

Leaning forward, Harry allowed his fingers to slide through his hair as he exhaled. Henry hated him. He hoped to Merlin that Ron, the man with perhaps the emotional range of a tablespoon, might be able to fix the mess that the Potter-Weasley-Granger parties were currently involved in.

“What the hell are you doing here so early?” asked Ron tiredly as he entered the sitting room.

“Sit, mate.” Harry muttered.

“Okay,” said Ron slowly. Lavender hovered near the doorway.

“Hermione found out this morning that she's pregnant,” he began.

“Congratulations, mate,” said Ron, clapping him on the back. Harry heard Lavender squeal with delight behind him.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully, “but that's not the reason I'm here. Henry walked in on Hermione and I, uh,celebrating? And he shouted at us, well, me mostly. Hermione's tried talking to him, but he had her in tears. You need to go explain the whole situation to your son.”

“Oh my,” said Ron, glancing at Lavender.

“Yeah.”

“I have a feeling Sunday dinner will be a `joyous' occasion.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Shall we apparate?”

“Let's.”

“I'll be back soon, Lav.”

“Alright,” she called.

Harry and Ron stood up and prepared themselves to dissaparate. Seconds later, they were standing in the middle of Harry's kitchen.

“Daddy!” shouted Sarah, jumping into his arms.

“Hey sweetie,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her head. “Where's your mum?”

“In the loo.”

“And your brother?”

“ Locked himself in his room.”

“I see. I have to go talk to him, love. I promise I'll visit you soon.”

“Okay. I'm going to go play in my room,” she said happily.

Ron let her down and she tore off up the stairs. Sighing, he followed her up the stairs and stopped in front of Henry's locked door. Sure enough, it was locked. He whipped out his wand and muttered a quick Alohomora and the door swung open to reveal his son curled up on his bed, facing the wall.

“Go away,” he growled.

“That's no way to speak to your father.”

“Dad?” he said, rolling over as Ron closed the door.

“What's going on over here?” he asked seriously as he sat down in the desk chair.

“Harry,” he muttered darkly.

“What did Harry do?”

“He's the reason we all don't live together anymore, isn't he?”

“As much as you want to believe it, Henry, no. I am,” Ron admitted.

“What?” replied Henry, obviously surprised.

“When I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts, I dated this lovely girl named Lavender Brown. We only went out for a short period, and then we broke up, and I started seeing your mother. Your mum and I got married, had you and your sister. We thought we were in love. I've always loved your mum. Do you understand that?”

Henry simply nodded, and gestured for his father to continue on.

“Your mum always loved me too, but we both loved each other in different ways, not the ways we deserved to be loved. After we graduated from Hogwarts, Harry had left for Australia, and he never came back. Your mum was heartbroken. I was mad at him for doing that to your mum. Then, about a year ago, I met up with Lavender again. Lavender and I fell in love. We started seeing each other.”

“But you were still married to mum then, that's wrong.”

“I know. But people do crazy things when they're in love. I didn't tell your mum. I had to soon, because Lavender and I wanted to be a real couple. Then Harry came back … we must have taken that as a sign. Lavender was at our house one night after Sunday dinner, and your mum found us, like you found her and Harry. It was a big reality check for us. Your mum and I decided to separate, for the best. Soon after we separated, she and Harry got together.

“Harry has always held a special place in your mum's heart. A place I could never fill, no matter how hard I tried. Your mum has always loved Harry. And he has always loved her, which was why he left for Australia. He realised he and Hermione could never be together.”

“Then why did he come back?”

“Because, he was offered a job here in England, and he took it. Anyway, Harry has always loved your mum in ways I never could. I can see it in the way he looks at her. They're meant to be together, much like Lavender and I. They're madly in love and now they're going to have a baby. Something Harry's wanted for a very, very long time. Something your mum's wanted to give him, long before she and I were married. It's practically a miracle for them.”

“Oh.”

“I think you need to go out there and apologise to Harry. He's been nothing but kind to you, hasn't he?”

“Yeah.”

“After you apologise to Harry, you go upstairs and apologise to your mum. Do you remember the one thing I've always taught you?”

“Never make Mum cry for bad reasons.”

“Exactly. I'll let her decide what your punishment will be. I have to get to work, buddy. But I'll see you on Sunday.”

“Fine.”

Ron stood up, and followed Henry out into the kitchen where Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, pouring over a stack of papers, quill in hand with a serious expression.

“Harry?” said Henry timidly.

Harry dropped his quill and looked up. “Yes Henry?” he asked.

“I'm sorry about earlier,” he said guiltily, hanging his head.

“It's alright. I understand, you were upset,” Harry said simply.

“Oh.”

“Go apologise to your mum, get your sister, and your things, I'm taking you to Grandma's,” said Ron seriously.

Harry had lowered his head back down to his papers.

“What're you going over?”

“Applications to the Auror program,” he explained. “Some of these are absolutely preposterous. `I want to be an Auror because it seems like a cool job' isn't a valid reason; some of these essays deserve their own wall of shame.”

“All from Hufflepuff?”

Harry snorted. “Ravenclaw. Slytherin. I'm frankly a little thwarted that hardly any Gryffindors applied.”

“Ah, well, you can't have them all, mate.”

“No, you can't.”

“Meet you for lunch?” he asked as he picked up Sarah.

“Sounds like a plan. I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at noon.”

“Alright,” agreed Ron as Henry tightly grasped his arm and he disapparated.

Harry dropped his quill and exhaled. He immediately got to his feet and headed up the stairs towards Hermione's room, but found it empty. He then heard the water running from the bathroom off his bedroom. He pushed open the door to see the bathroom door ajar. Smiling, he closed the bedroom door and locked it and crossed the room.

“Hey,” he whispered as he leaned on the doorframe, as Hermione was about to lift her nightgown.

“Hey yourself,” she replied.

“Enough room in there for two?” he asked.

“For the time being,” she smiled as she pulled him into the bathroom.

“We can always make it bigger,” he joked as she dropped the powder blue dress to the floor and stepped towards him.

“You're wearing far too much, Mr. Potter.”

“I am?”

“Yes, yes you are,” she whispered, gently tugging his t-shirt over his head.

Harry took a moment to allow his eyes to roam over her naked body. His eyes stopped on her stomach.

“What?” she asked uneasily.

“You're beautiful,” he said simply, stepping forward and pulled her into his arms to kiss her.

“Jeans,” she groaned against his lips. He instantly fumbled with the button and zipper, and slid them down his legs along with his boxer shorts. He slid into the oversized Jacuzzi bath and Hermione slid in after him, her back against his chest.

“This is nice,” he commented.

“Don't you have to work?” she asked.

“No, not today. I took the day off so I could go over some of the applications.”

“Ah.”

“What about you?”

“Remember? The shop's only open from twelve to five on Fridays.”

“How convenient.”

“Highly,” she replied, shifting in his embrace slightly so she could give him a long, lazy kiss.

-->

5. Chapter 4

Lunch with Ron was quite enjoyable. The two men got together once or twice a month at the dingy pub to catch up, rant about work, or argue over Quiddich. This time, Ron immediately filled him in on how Hermione acted during pregnancy, what she normally ended up craving, and how demonic she was during actual birth. By the time that story rolled around, both men were feeling quite happy as they sipped scotch.

It was nearly one thirty when Ron returned to work, and Harry had Tom perform a minor sobering charm on him so he could head out into muggle London. As soon as he stepped into the crowd, he lowered his sunglasses over his eyes and faded into the crowd. He stopped in front of an old fashioned bookstore, and walked over to the sale table and picked up a medium sized leather-bound book and began to silently read the summary. He decided it was something Hermione would enjoy more than he would. He stepped inside the old fashioned bookstore and walked to the front counter where an elderly woman was reading The Times.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked kindly.

Harry silently slid the book on the counter as he examined the display case. “How much for the signed Jane Austin?”

“Two thousand, young man.”

“I'll take it as well.” He said seriously.

“Would you like them wrapped?”

“Yes please,” said Harry as he opened his wallet and removed his bankcard. He silently thanked Gringotts for this latest invention. Harry thanked the woman and headed back out into the blazing sun. He crossed the street and slipped unnoticed into the Leaky Cauldron. He criss-crossed his way through the bar and into Diagon Ally.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione quietly hummed to herself as she strode through the isles of shelves that held her precious books. What set her apart from Flourish and Blotts was that she sold a bit of everything, while they catered more to Hogwarts students and history. She had history, fiction, non-fiction, children's books, Hogwarts manuals, magical cookbooks, and books of household spells, even some selected muggle literature. When Hermione had opened her shop almost five years ago, she was welcomed with open arms, and was still welcome into her old haunt.

When Henry and Sarah were younger, she used to love bringing them to work with her. She would sit them in their swings and the stream of customers or whatever their mother would do would endlessly fascinate them. As they grew older, she had no choice but to send them to Molly's, which she was grateful for. Molly had taught all of her children everything they needed to know and then some for when they went off to Hogwarts. She was doing the same with Henry and Sarah, and hopefully if she accepted it, hers and Harry's child as well.

The very thought made her smile as she subconsciously rubbed her stomach. She would never forget the look in Harry's eyes after their news had sunk in. It was pure, utter joy and happiness. A Quiddich house cup couldn't bring that look to his eyes. But she and their child could.

She spun on her heel as she heard the tinkling ring of the bell over the door. Rounding a corner, she stopped and smiled as she came face to face with Harry.

“I brought you something,” he said awkwardly as he handed her a professionally wrapped antique box.

“You didn't have to.” She said happily as she carefully lifted off the lid and picked up The Pride and the Prejudice. “I already-”

“This one's signed,” he explained.

“Harry, these are incredibly rare and expensive,” she exclaimed as her fingers lightly traced the signature.

“I found it in the first shop I walked into,” he shrugged.

“This must have cost a fortune… I can't accept this.” She whispered, shaking her head.

“Yes you can ... It wasn't that much, I promise.”

“How much,” she asked suspiciously.

“It doesn't matter, if it was too expensive, I wouldn't have bought it,” he said seriously as she set the Jane Austin aside and examined the other one.

“I've heard good things about this one,” she said approvingly, “it's a classic.”

“Ah.” He replied as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Aren't you supposed to be reading Auror Training applications?”

“I finished.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive.”

“I love you.” She whispered as she leaned back into his embrace.

“I love you too.”

“Floo Ron. I'm not ready to tell the Weasleys about the baby just yet.”

“Alright.”

x-x-x-x-x

Two months later Hermione sighed as she opened the bottom drawer of her dresser where she kept her maternity clothes. She had been denying it for weeks, but her regular clothes were simply becoming too tight. She found it odd that they were this tight this early into her pregnancy. Some of her customers had even cautiously asked if she was expecting again. She embarrassingly admitted that she was indeed with child, but left out the part that it was with Harry.

She finally decided on a pair of jeans and a light pink spaghetti strap pregnancy top. Slipping into a pair of flat sandals, she grudgingly declared herself ready. It seemed every time she got pregnant, the uglier she felt while she was expecting.

She grabbed her purse as Harry stepped out of their large walk in closet fully dressed, and looking as shaggable as ever.

“Ready?”

“I look horrible.”

“You look beautiful.”

“You're just saying that.”

“I'm not.”

“Yes you are.”

“Hermione, you're beautiful, regardless what you're wearing, if you're pregnant or not. Okay?” he said seriously as he approached her and took her into his arms. She instantly found herself lost in his piercing emerald green eyes. “You're just nervous about everyone finding out about us,” he whispered softly as he ran a finger across her cheek. She shivered.

“You're birthday's coming up,” she whispered, changing the subject.

“I don't want to do anything.” He said simply.

“It's your twenty seventh birthday, we have to do something. At least go out to dinner. A fancy bistro along the river, just you and I. I'll make Ron take Henry and Sarah so we can have a romantic evening alone together…”

“You've been planning this,” he accused.

“Maybe a little,” she smiled. “Let's get going… I'm dying to see Henry and Sarah… They've been with Ron and Lavender all week.”

“I was talking to Ron in the lift the other day. Apparently they've taken to Lavender well. Henry's a little quiet around her, but that's understandable…”

“That's a relief.”

“A big one.”

“Can I side-along appearate with you?” she asked. “I don't want to show up looking bewildered.”

“Alright,” he said as she relaxed into his tight embrace and closed her eyes as she buried her head in his chest. “We're here.” He whispered.

“MUMMY!” shouted Sarah as she flew out of the kitchen, brown hair flowing gracefully behind her. Hermione pulled out of Harry's arms to hug her daughter.

“I've missed you so much, darling,” she whispered into the little girls hair as she held onto her tightly.

“I missed you too, mummy. Has the baby kicked yet?” she whispered.

“No sweetheart, it won't for a while,” she whispered back, kissing the top of her head.

“Hi Harry!” Sarah said brightly as she moved away from her mother and hugged Harry around his midsection. “I missed you too.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” said Harry awkwardly as he bent down and kissed the top of her head.

Sarah grinned brightly and disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Grandma! Mummy and Harry's here!” they heard her should.

Grasping Harry's hand for support, they made their way into the back garden where everyone was situated. Ever since she found out she was pregnant; Hermione had taken to wearing baggy clothes to dinner. She knew Molly had an eye for such things as pregnancy, and she would likely over react and start thinking the worse, which was why she, Harry, Ron, and Lavender decided to wait to tell Ron's family about their relationships.

“Hello Molly,” said Harry warmly as she quickly embraced Harry and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hermione,” said Molly as she approached her former daughter in law, and stopped dead. “Hermione?” she repeated, her eyes bulging as they rested on the noticeable bump on her stomach. Harry instantaneously flew to her side and grasped her hand, for which she was grateful. The two of them silently stared back. “Oh my.”

“Molly-” began Hermione, but she was cut off.

“Does Ron know about you two?”

“Ron's known about us since we began seeing each other. He's also known about the baby,” explained Hermione, her voice just above a whisper.

“He's fine with it. He's happy for us. We really wish you would be too, Molly.” Said Harry seriously.

“Are you going to get married?” she demanded.

“We haven't really talked about it,” said Hermione truthfully. “But we will eventually. Perhaps after the baby's born.”

“How far along are you?”

“Four and a half months.”

Molly gave Harry a fleeting look, which caused him to look away uneasily.

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Four and a half months.” He admitted quietly.

“Molly, please don't be angry at us,” pleaded Hermione.

“You went straight to Harry after you left my son?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. “Or were you with him before you left my son?”

“Mum,” came Ron's voice from the back door. “Don't blame her. It's neither of their faults. It's mine. I was with Lavender for months before Hermione and I finalized our divorce.”

“Ron?” Came Arthur's voice from the bottom of the staircase. He had obviously been listening to the whole thing.

“Oh Ronald…”

“I'm not apologetic about it, mum.” He said quietly.

“I've forgiven him, Molly,” added Hermione.

“If Ron hadn't made the choice to be with Lavender while we were still married, we wouldn't have gotten a divorce. If Ron and I hadn't gotten a divorce, I wouldn't be with Harry, and we wouldn't be having our first child together. Ron's happier, I'm happier, and Harry's happier … that's all that matters. I love Ron, I always will … as my brother, not as my husband,” said Hermione seriously. “We understand that this may be hard for you to digest at the moment, but please, we need you to be happy for us.”

“As long as Harry promises he'll stay with you.”

“Nothing could take me away from her,” he assured.

Molly remained silent as Lavender silently joined Ron's side.

“You're going to be an amazing father, Harry.” She whispered.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione spent the next week planning Harry's birthday. Ron had agreed to take Henry and Sarah for the weekend, and planned on taking them, along with Lavender, to their first Chudley Cannons game. As fate would have it, Harry's birthday fell on a Friday. She had made reservations at a small restaurant alongside the River Thames.

Harry's eyes immediately fluttered open as Hermione pressed her hot mouth to his. He responded instantly by tangling her tongue with his. Her arms slowly wove around his neck as she pressed her warm body against his. Hermione pulled away as he pushed his hips against hers.

“Not now,” she panted as she gently stroked his flushed face.

“Why the hell did you wake me up like that then?” he grumbled pulling her back towards him and wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck.

“Happy Birthday.” She whispered into his hair.

“Now this is just unacceptable. You wake me up like that, and reject me sex on my own birthday?”

“Maybe I want you have breakfast first.” She whispered.

Harry finally realised that there was a tray floating in mid-air containing a wide variety of breakfast foods. He hastily sat up in bed as Hermione climbed out of it to take hold of the tray.

“You shouldn't have done this.” He said as she sat down beside him.

“Yes I should have. It's your birthday, I love you, and I'll spoil you as much as I like.” She said happily, and kissed him lightly. “Now shut up and eat.”

Harry grinned and returned her kiss and dug into his plate.

Ten minutes later, they had cleared their plates and Hermione had magically rid of them. She climbed off the bed and walked over to her dresser and slid open the top drawer and removed a flat, medium sized box.

“I got these the other day. I thought you'd like them,” she said quietly, as he slowly lifted the lid.

“Are these…?” questioned Harry.

“The baby sonograms.” She nodded.

“Oh god…” he whispered as he carefully lifted them out of the box and stared.

“Look at the bottom,” she said calmly as she subconsciously tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and scooted up beside him.

Harry's eyes trailed down to the small writing at the bottom. His breath hitched in his throat.

“We're having a boy.” He said, looking up at her.

“We're having a boy,” repeated Hermione as Harry's face broke out into a grin.

“A son,” Harry whispered as he lowered his eyes back down to the pictures. “This is amazing.”

“I know,” laughed Hermione. “Henry will be thrilled he's getting a brother.”

“Yeah… Sarah's just so happy that there's going to be a baby, period.”

“She loves them.”

“Yes she does.”

“I love you,” said Hermione as she took the pictures from him and placed them on the nightstand.

“I love you too,” replied Harry as he leaned against the headboard.

“Go take a shower. We're spending the day in the city.”

“I told you, you shouldn't have planned-”

“Oh hush up, Harry.”

“I don't think you should be wandering around all day in your condition.”

“I'll be fine, Harry,” she assured.

x-x-x-x-x

They had been blessed with a beautiful day. Harry was happy spending a normal day wandering London's waterfront aimlessly with Hermione. They looked like a normal couple, both looking incredibly happy as they awaited the arrival of their son.

At five, they returned home to change and get ready for dinner. Hermione had made reservations at a fancy bistro on the waterfront. She had remembered Harry saying something about wanting to try the food there.

“Hermione darling,” Harry called from the bathroom.

“Yes?”

“Can you go in the top drawer of my dresser? There's a box. Can you open it and bring it to me?” He instructed as he buttoned up his forest green shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone. He heard the sliding of the drawer, silence, and then a gasp. He stopped dead as he entered their bedroom. She had on a pale blue strapless dress that seemed to be made for her. It hugged her in all the right places, particularly around her midsection, where it did indeed confirm that she was with child. She had done light make up, which seemed to illuminate her eyes, and had magically curled her hair so it flowed gracefully down her back. She was looking at him expectantly as she held the tiny black velvet box in her hand.

“Well?” she asked finally.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he whispered.

“You're not to bad yourself.”

Harry shook his head as he joined her side. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What do you think?”

“I didn't open it.”

“Well open it.”

“I'm scared.”

Harry shook his head as he carefully plucked the box out of her grasp. He turned away from her as he opened it. He removed the ring and threw the box carelessly on the bed and turned back towards her. Hermione was smiling anxiously at him as he took a step forward and dropped down onto one knee.

“I didn't originally plan to do it this early, or this way … but it feels so right. Ever since I came back to England, everything I've done is for you. I love you so much, and you're the main reason I get out of bed every morning. I love your children as if they were my own, and I can't wait for our son to make his appearance into our lives. I need to be with you, Hermione. Will you marry me?”

Hermione quickly wiped away the tears that had started to form in her eyes and nodded vigorously. “Yes Harry, oh Merlin yes…” she whispered as he got to his feet and slid the ring onto her finger. She took a moment to examine it. She had never seen anything like it before. There were eight extremely tiny diamonds in the shape of a heart, with a miniscule pink diamond in the centre. “It's beautiful.”

“It was my mum's,” he explained as he pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

“I've loved you for so long,” she whispered into his chest as he held her tightly.

“I know… We don't have to wait anymore, we're together now.” He whispered back as he kissed her forehead. “We've got to get going or we'll lose our reservation.”

“You're right,” agreed Hermione as Harry tightened his grip on her and dissaparated them with a loud crack.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she and Harry were standing in the alleyway beside the restaurant. They quickly straightened themselves out and Hermione affectionately grasped Harry's hand as they walked inside.

“Name?” asked the waitress politely.

“Potter,” said Hermione.

“Ah yes,” she said, smiling brightly. “Would you prefer to sit outside on the veranda or inside this evening?”

“Outside,” said Harry.

“Right this way,” she instructed, leading them through a pair of stained glass doors and sat them behind a couple who by Harry's glance looked to be in their 50's. Harry stepped forward and pulled out Hermione's chair for her and he sat down across from her. Their waitress gave them their menus and disappeared.

“The river looks so beautiful at night,” commented Hermione.

“Huh?” said Harry distractingly.

“Are you alright, Harry?” she asked worriedly.

“My aunt and uncle are here.” He said in a low voice nodding to the couple behind her. “I don't think they recognise me, or something about allowing freaks like me into the restaurant would have ensued.” He said casually as he skimmed the menu.

“You're so negative about them,” she sighed. “They must have done at least one nice thing for you.”

“They got me a coat hanger for my tenth birthday.”

“Harry!”

“They did!” He laughed. “I got two pence and a tissue-”

“Oh Harry…”

“Ask Ron. I let him keep the money.”

“Are you ready to place your orders?” Came the voice of their waitress.

“I'll the spaghetti bolognaise, and a glass of water,” said Hermione politely.

“And I'll have the eggplant rigatoni and champagne.” Added Harry as he handed her his menu. He glanced over Hermione's shoulder and locked eyes with his wide eye aunt. If there was one thing to blow his cover, he was sure it would have been his eyes. He looked away quickly.

“Harry it can't be that bad,” Hermione reassured.

“Hermione,” Harry began as he raked his hand through his hair. “They hate me for what I am, and who I'm related to. They held that against me for the sixteen years I lived under their roof. I doubt much has changed. Do you want to dance?”

“Please,” she said simply as they both got to their feet and joined the other couples that were dancing to the small orchestra that was playing in the corner. He placed his left hand on her waist and carefully took her right in his and stared into her eyes.

“I hope our son has your eyes,” she whispered.

“I hope he has your smile,” he whispered back as he spun her, causing her to giggle.

“He'll have your charm,” she laughed.

“Along with my Quid- `football' skills, smashing good looks-”

“You're really pushing it,” said Hermione stepping closer to him.

“He'll have your kindness and intelligence,” he said finally as she laid her head on his shoulder. “They're looking at us,” he commentated. “She's whispering something to him … now he's looking straight at me … he looks a little furious … the veins going …”

“Harry just look away.”

“I would love to just-”

“Harry no. Not tonight.”

“I love you,” he said simply.

“I'm sure.” She said dryly. “Go sit down, I have to go to the loo.”

“Alright love,” he said, kissing the side of her head and headed back to the table. He was determined not to look at his uncle.

Hermione entered the ladies room and quickly entered the stall. She knew Harry wouldn't approve of what she was planning, but it was worth a shot. They were the only family he had left, and she wished they weren't so bitter towards each other. Sighing, Hermione flushed the toilet and straightened herself out before unlocking the door and headed over to the sink.

“Hello Mrs. Dursley,” she said warmly.

Petunia Dursley studied her for several seconds. “Do I know you?” she asked carefully.

“I'm your nephew Harry's fiancé, Hermione Granger. We met years ago when I picked him up from your home when he moved out?”

“You're marrying my nephew?” she asked, astonished.

“Yes I am. He's such a wonderful man…”

Petunia seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I don't want to sound straightforward,” said Hermione “but Harry and I are getting married shortly after the birth of our son. I know he won't admit it because he's so stubborn, but it would mean a lot to him if you came to our wedding. I know you never got along while he was living with you. But you're the only family he's got left.”

“I don't know what to say,” stated Petunia as she stared at Hermione's determined face.

Hermione remained silent.

“How is he?” she asked finally.

“He's doing great since he moved back.”

“Moved back?”

“He was working for our Australian government for almost ten years.”

“He's been in Australia all this time?”

“He's been home for a while now. He's the Head of the Auror Department in London. It's really good for him ... He really enjoys it. He's been such an amazing father to my two children… He was absolutely thrilled when he found out we were going to be having a child together.”

“You have two children? How old are you?”

“I'm almost twenty eight. I married young … started a family too early. They're six and four.”

“I see.”

“But please, consider it? I'll make sure an invite gets to you, as all my family are well, normal. So there won't be a lot of our people there anyway, close family and friends. I know Harry and his uncle will never get along, but you're the last connection he has to his mother. It would mean a lot to both of us if you came,” said Hermione seriously. “I have to get back. Harry will wonder what's keeping me,” she added simply, and left the lavatory without another word.

“Is there a party in there going on that I'm not aware of?” Harry asked as she sat back down across from him.

“Of course not. You're never to question what a woman does in a bathroom,” said Hermione dismissively.

“Dully noted,” replied Harry as their pates were placed in front of them. “Thank you,” he added kindly to the waitress.

“This is delicious,” stated Hermione after she had taken her first bite.

“It is… They say it's one of the finer Italian restaurants in London,” Harry explained. “This was likely why it's reservation-only. How did you manage to get in here?” he asked suspiciously.

“I made our reservations shortly after you mentioned this place,” she admitted guiltily.

“Hermione, that was months ago!” Harry exclaimed.

“I wanted everything to be perfect today. You're always worrying over something or someone… You deserve this and so much more, Harry…” She said lowering her eyes to her plate.

“Hermione, don't think that, please…” Harry whispered. “I'm grateful for everything you've done for me today, but the only thing that's really mattered is that I was with you. You're already giving me the best gift anyone's ever given me. Something no one else could. You didn't have to do any of this.”

“I don't deserve you, Harry. Not at all…” whispered Hermione. She refused to look at him.

“Don't say that. Don't ever say that. I need you, Hermione. I need to be with you. We're finally together, we don't have to hide anything anymore.”

Someone clearing their throat interrupted them. Harry and Hermione looked up to come face to face with Vernon Dursley.

“Can we help you?” Harry asked flatly.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“Eating, that's what people normally do in a restaurant, see,” replied Harry as he took a sip of his champagne.

“How can you afford to eat here?”

“Quite simple actually. I make in a month what you make in a year, and half of that is transferred into pounds onto my credit card, and then I'll simply swipe that credit card though the debit machine before we leave, and it will be as simple as that.” Explained Harry.

“I find that hard to believe, you make more than I do?” said Vernon incredulously.

“Yes I do. Now if you don't mind, my fiancé and I are trying to finish our meal until you rudely interrupted us. Perhaps this will be a good example for your son no doubt, who is sitting at home watching television. Perhaps telling him that his cousin is a millionaire might motivate him to do something with his life.”

“Why you little-”

“I'm well over seventeen now, bear that in mind.” Warned Harry.

Vernon sputtered, and then stomped away.

“I'm sorry about him,” came Petunia's voice. “I want to offer my congratulations on your engagement and baby.”

Harry stared. “Thank you, Aunt Petunia… It really means a lot to us, really.”

“Perhaps you can bring the baby by when it's born?”

“We'll think about it,” explained Hermione.

“Thank you. Happy Birthday Harry, by the way.” She said smiling before turning to leave.

“Hell has officially frozen over,” confirmed Harry.

“She's always liked you, Harry, I'm sure.” Said Hermione as she rolled her eyes.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry tightened his hold on Hermione's sleeping naked form in his arms. She had been asleep for hours, but he found himself unable to do so. He couldn't stop thinking about what she had mentioned at dinner, something about her not deserving him. It was her tone of voice that bothered him while she said it. She sounded serious, and that's what scared him. Was she only with him so she could give him a son, then leave because she thought she didn't deserve him?

He began thinking back to recent weeks. He had thought everything was going great with them, but the more he thought about it, the more she seemed distant. She was quieter, and seemed curter with him. Maybe it was just the pregnancy hormones, or maybe she was regretting getting into a relationship with him so soon after her divorce from Ron. It seemed as if she was pushing him away.

Harry eased his arm out from underneath her and rolled out of bed. He slid back into his discarded boxers and walked over to the patio door and slid it open. He stepped outside and sank down into one of the hanging swings and stared out over the city.

He lowered his head into his hands. He knew it was too good to be true. Especially for him. He was Harry Potter for Christ sakes. Nothing ever went right for him. He felt the tears flow freely down his face as he heard movements from behind him.

“Harry?” he heard Hermione distantly say.

He didn't respond as he raked his fingers through his hair and covered his face with his hands.

“You weren't in bed so I came to-” she stopped dead as she heard his quiet sobs. “Oh Harry…”

Hermione instantly stepped forward and knelt down and pulled his hands away from his face. “Harry what's wrong?” she asked as she cradled his head against her chest.

`You're going to leave me after the baby's born, aren't you?” his voice was just above a whisper.

Hermione was at a loss for words. “Harry you know I would never do that.” She said finally as she stroked his head as they sat on the cool cement balcony leaning against the bars. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I'm Harry-bloody-Potter,” he said bitterly. “Nothing ever goes right.”

“I don't understand why you would think I would leave you… I love you, Harry.”

“What you said at dinner … you've been acting odd lately…”

“Oh Harry you didn't take that seriously, did you?” she cried. “I'm so sorry I've been driving you away … my parents are making me nervous, is all… I didn't mean to take it out on you, I swear. Ever since they retired in Scotland they've been calling me trying to get me to visit with the children … more so than ever now, as I'm pregnant again and with you. They want to meet you. They remember me saying I was friends with you in school, but that's it. I'll never leave you Harry, not in a million years. I promise.” She whispered.

“Keep going,” he said flatly.

“What?”

“You're not telling me something.”

“Don't be mad at me,” she whispered.

“I promise.”

“The Prophet and Witch Weekly has been at my store constantly trying to get an interview and pictures with me ever since they found out we're together. They've been more belligerent now since they found out I'm pregnant.” She admitted.

“How long has this been going on?” he demanded.

“About three months now…”

“Hermione why didn't you tell me?”

“I knew it would make you upset…”

“Hermione, they're reporters, they're ruthless…”

“I know that, but if I ignore them they'll go away.”

“They'll be around more than ever as your due date draws nearer.” He whispered as he altered his position slightly and buried his face in her neck.

“I know…”

“We should go somewhere else to have the baby.” He whispered. “Somewhere only we know.”

“Maybe.” She sighed as he pulled away from her and placed his lips against hers. “Again?”

“If you wish.” He chuckled as he helped her up and pulled her as close as she could go against him and kissed her hard. He wrapped his arms around her waist as their tongues tangled together. Hermione groaned as she felt his erection against her midsection. Harry pressed her against the outside wall and hitched up her short silk nightdress, where to his delight, she was gloriously naked underneath. Her hands wrenched his shorts off his hips and he instantly pressed his head against her, causing her to instantly buck her hips against him. She felt him smile against her lips as he gently moved himself around her pink folds, before quickly pressing himself against the bundle of nerves at the top causing her to whimper.

“Not here. My arse is displayed to the world and I don't trust that.” He said huskily as he moved away from her and picked her up and brought her back inside the flat and closed the door and pulled the curtains shut. Hermione lifted her nightdress over her head and threw it carelessly on the floor as Harry attacked her lips as they tumbled backwards on top of the bed. Harry began trailing kisses down her neck, chest, stomach, thighs and legs before he kissed her foot and slowly began pressing light kisses to her inner-thighs. He suddenly stopped, and Hermione looked down expectantly to see why he had stopped, then she let out an audible gasp as he plunged his tongue inside of her. She threw her knees over his shoulders as he swirled his tongue around inside of her, and gently tugging on her outer lips with his teeth, causing her to moan. He forcefully began to suck on her and she suddenly found herself unable to control the bucking of her hips. His mouth suddenly latched onto the small nub and she nearly screamed as she came crashing. He eagerly lapped up her juices. He then slowly moved upwards and pressed his forehead against hers. Hermione grabbed him around the neck and kissed him hard, tasting herself on his moist lips and in his mouth. Harry steadied himself as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Harry groaned. She was so tight, hot and wet around him as he thrusted in and out of her. He loved how she felt around him. She never ceased to turn him on in any way possible. With one final thrust, his orgasm over took him and he collapsed on the bed beside her.

Hermione instantly rolled over on her side and wrapped her arms around his neck and moved as close to him as she could and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Harry. Don't ever forget that,” she whispered in his ear.

“I'm sorry I doubted you,” replied Harry as he kissed her tenderly on the lips before he buried his face in her neck. Hermione smiled as his breathing became even, signalling he had finally fallen asleep. She carefully pulled the blankets over their naked bodies and curled into Harry's embrace and allowed sleep to overtake her.

x-x-x-x-x

The sun was shining abnormally bright when Harry awoke, alone, with a thin cotton sheet barely concealing his abdomen. He opened his eyes to see the curtains thrown wide open, welcoming the sun and light breeze into the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes as he struggled to sit up in the bed. He looked around for Hermione, but she was nowhere in sight. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar. He slowly climbed out of bed, and shrugged his robe on his shoulders and made his was to the bathroom. He swung the door open to see Hermione relaxing in the bath with a book. She looked up briefly when he entered.

“Hey,” she greeted as he walked into the small room that held the toilet.

“Hey,” he called back. They remained silent as Harry washed his hands and headed over to the shower.

“Why're you going in there?” she asked, not raising her gaze off her page.

“Would you rather I went to the one downstairs?” he questioned innocently as he leaned against the wall behind her as she gently set her book down.

“Not really.”

“Would you rather I not shower at all?”

“Not really,” she repeated playfully as she sat up and reached for the knot at his waist. He backed away.

“What do you think you're doing?” he demanded, a playful smile slowly began to grace his features.

“Trying to get that robe off you,” she said truthfully.

“I can't just shag all the time-”

“That's the understatement of the year,” Hermione retorted as she slid back into the bubbles.

“I was joking, love,” she heard him whisper in her ear as his teeth grazed her earlobe, causing her to shiver. His lips slowly pressed light kisses along her neck and up her jaw before coming in contact with her own upside down. She groaned and threaded her wet fingers through his hair. They were interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing. Harry tore his mouth away from hers and swore under his breath as he pulled the cotton robe back around his body and headed into the bedroom and picked up the battery-operated phone off the dock by the bed.

“Hello?” he said, slightly irritated.

“I'm looking for Hermione?” came a woman's voice.

“May I ask who's speaking?” he asked as he walked into the bathroom and shrugged off his robe and slid soundlessly into the bathtub beside Hermione.

“It's her mother,” said the woman critically.

Harry instantly handed it to Hermione who frowned.

“Hello?” Hermione politely said. “Oh, hello mum.”

Silence. Harry studied her face as he draped his arm over the side of the bathtub, allowing Hermione to lean into his chest.

“That was Harry,” she explained as he kissed the top of her head. “I'm sorry, was asleep.”

Harry glared at her as she grinned and kissed him silently on the cheek.

“Henry and Sarah are with Ron this weekend.”

Pause.

“I'll have to talk to him about it.”

Pause.

“I'll call back as soon as we do, mum. I love you too.” She said hastily and hung up the phone.

“You little liar,” Harry said as she reached up to cup his face.

“You don't snap at my mother,” she responded as she smeared some of the lightly perfumed foam across his cheek.

“I didn't mean to,” he defended truthfully. “She interrupted us, I had a right.”

“You're pathetic,” she whispered, kissing his chest as he rubbed lazy circles on her arm. “She wanted to know if we wanted to spend a few weeks with her and dad.”

“You and I we, or you, I and children we?”

“You, I, and children we.”

“When?”

“We leave Monday.”

“How about next week? The new aurors are coming in, and I have to…”

“Show them around and make your speech?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“How about Henry, Sarah, and I head to Scotland by aeroplane on Monday, and you come after your seminar?”

“But I'll still be alone for a week.”

“I think you'll survive a week, Harry.” She said seriously, as he kissed her cheek. “I love you.”

“I know,” he whispered as they gave into their passion once more.

-->

6. Chapter 5

Harry hated to see Hermione leave, but he was silently glad she was gone. The Prophet and Witch Weekly had found out about their engagement, and it had caused a new uproar. Harry Potter was finally getting married to his best-mate's ex-wife who happened to already be pregnant with his child. It seemed they were waiting for Ron to step in to add to the drama. Ron had joked about saying something to them about how much he hated Harry and wanted him dead for stealing his wife, but one look from Harry made Ron almost fear for his life.

The seventeen-year-olds who were entering the Auror-training-program were a definite lively bunch. He was glad when Friday rolled around to be able to escape the chaos at the Ministry. The day didn't seem to end. He had an endless stream of memos to sign and read, reports to go over, missions to assign, all before he was supposed to leave at five. And by the looks of it, it didn't seem like he was going to be leaving any time soon, and it was almost four thirty. He had a half a mind to just leave it, but he knew the head of the squads wouldn't be too pleased with him. Sighing, Harry picked up his pace and charmed his quill to automatically put his signature on the respective pieces of parchment. He filed the reports as quickly as he could, magically rid of the spare parchment, and cleaned up the mess around his desk before collapsing into his chair and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost six. Groaning, he stood back up and grabbed the handle of his suitcase on wheels and quickly walked through the deserted Auror department and into the lift and headed up towards the Atrium to dissaparate to Scotland. He veered into the men's room and opened a bathroom stall and quickly changed out of his rumpled work clothes and into a pair of designer jeans and simple jumper before heading into the almost empty atrium. He closed his eyes and disappeared with a faint pop.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in front of a large welcoming home, with lawns that seemed to go on for miles. To him, it seemed like too much for a retirement home. But with all the stress Hermione had put them through because of their `adventures' during their schooldays, they definitely deserved it. Part of him wanted to just go back home to London and sleep after the hectic week he had had, but he wanted to see Hermione and the kids. He missed them, and wanted nothing more than a quiet evening at home.

He ran a hand through his hair as he rang the doorbell and straightened his posture as he heard the locks being opened on the opposite side. Finally, the door swung open to reveal a relived looking Hermione.

“You're late,” she said simply as she stepped aside to let him in.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized as he attempted to kiss her, but she turned away. “I had a ton of memos and reports… I didn't realise the time before it was too late … please don't be mad at me…”

Hermione exhaled and shook her head as she allowed him to wrap her in his arms. She closed her eyes and breathed in his comforting scent. She was home. He gave her a gentle kiss and brushed her hair behind her ear, causing her to smile. “I can never stay mad at you…” she whispered as they pulled away.

“It's a gift,” said Harry matter-of-factly.

“Did you change before you left?”

“Yeah, I figured I'd make a better impression if I showed up looking half decent than in my work clothes.”

“Armani. I guess you want to make an impression,” she commented.

“Stop staring at my arse,” he replied playfully.

“That's where the logo is.”

“Missed me that much, huh?”

“We'll get reacquainted in a while,” she whispered, nipping his ear lightly with her teeth.

“I ought to just ravish you here.” Harry replied as he pressed her against the wall.

“You won't on the wall of my parent's house,” she warned pushing him away as she pushed open the door to their bedroom and she stepped inside. He followed her in and closed the door. Gently setting his suitcase at the foot of the bed next to hers, he straightened up and was quickly pushed on top of the bed and her silky brown ringlets obscured his vision. Her mouth instantly latched onto his and he wasted no time obliging to her.

“I've missed you so much…” she panted as he cupped her face.

“I've missed you too,” he laughed as he kissed her lightly and ran his fingers though her thick curls. “How's our boy?”

“Amazing.” She whispered, returning his kiss.

“Any signs of movement?”

“None yet.”

“I see.” Harry replied, rolling onto his back. “Would your parents mind if I took a nap? I haven't really slept this week because I've been so busy…”

“Go ahead. They're out with Henry and Sarah. I'll stay here with you if you'd like.”

“I might do a little more than nap then,” said Harry, his eyes dark with desire as he rolled back over and slid his hand up her maternity dress.

“HERMIONE?” They heard a voice shout from the entryway.

Harry's hand shot from under her dress faster than a lit firework and rolled away from her. “Nap sounds great about now.”

“I'll go tell them you're taking a nap.” She agreed quickly as she smoothed out her dress and kissed him before drawing away from him. Sighing contently, Harry closed his eyes and faded into comfortable darkness.

Harry awoke to a warm tongue being slipped into his mouth. His eyes snapped open and green instantly met brown. Smiling, Harry pulled her down on top of him and deepened their kiss.

“Sleep well?” inquired Hermione.

“Yes. What time is it?”

“Almost ten. I just put Henry and Sarah down. Would you like something to eat?”

“Please,” he yawned as he sat up and scratched the back of his head.

“Come on, I put a plate in the oven for you.”

“Thanks,” replied Harry gratefully as he stretched and allowed Hermione to pull him out of the room.

They were silent as they walked down the oak staircase and Hermione led him to the doorway to the sitting room.

“Mum, dad, this is Harry Potter,” announced Hermione as she wrapped her arms around his waist and stared up at him.

“This is that same little boy you were friends with in school?” said Helen Granger, obviously shocked as she got to her feet.

“Yes mum,” replied Hermione.

“You look so different from the pictures Hermione used to show us,” continued Helen, as she looked Harry up and down. He was beginning to feel uneasy.

“Thanks?”

“Helen, you're frightening the poor boy,” interrupted Edward as he made his way towards Harry and Hermione.

“Edward Granger.” He said seriously, extending his hand.

“It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Granger,” replied Harry kindly as he shook it. “You too, Mrs. Granger.”

“You're what they call `pure blood?'” inquired Edward.

“No sir. I'm only half-blood. My mum was muggleborn. I was brought up normally,” he explained. “I lived with my aunt and uncle. I didn't find out I was a wizard until I was eleven.”

“I see, so you understand the proper functions of a regular home?”

“Yes I do, as Hermione and I live in one.”

“Have you ever golfed?” Edward asked arching an eyebrow.

“I did when I lived in Australia … I haven't in months.”

“Helen and I belong to the local country club. You and I will go tomorrow.”

“Okay, sir.”

“None of this sir, nonsense. Call me Edward.”

“Yes, Edward.”

“Come on, Harry. Let's eat.” Said Hermione finally, drawing him away.

“Thank you,” he whispered as they entered the kitchen.

“I don't think a pin could have been as straight as your back,” she laughed as she removed two warm plates filled with pasta from the oven and cast a cooling charm on the plates and handed one to him.

“Well I didn't know what to say,” he shrugged.

“And that's what I love about you. I'm sure they'll love you.” She said happily as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

“You didn't have to wait for me,” he said.

“I wanted to,” she replied simply.

“How old are you? Eighteen?”

“What?”

“I've never seen you this … giggly.”

“I'm not giggly!” she said, blushing.

“Yes you are,” he countered.

“No sex,” she whispered in a low voice.

“Says the woman who nearly fucked me as soon as we got in the bedroom.”

“You didn't exactly push me away, either.”

“I was too stunned to think straight,” he said frivolously as he took a sip of water. “I'm not used to having pregnant woman vehemently shoving me onto a bed.”

“Of course you aren't, Harry.”

“Not that I'm complaining, of course,” he added.

“I would surely hope not.”

Ten minutes later, they had cleaned their dishes, and headed up the stairs towards their bedroom. As soon as they were inside, Harry whipped out his wand and performed locking and silencing charms on the room before turning to his desire-driven fiancé.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione lay quietly in Harry's arms, simply staring into his eyes, and sharing an occasional kiss. She laced their fingers together and kissed his knuckles and smiled as he captured her lips and gave her a light kiss.

“Where were you one year ago, today?” she whispered as he lazily played with her hair.

“I was likely sitting in the condo either sleeping, or awake, thinking of you.”

“Did you do that a lot?”

“Thinking of you got me through a lot,” he explained softly.

“Like what?” she asked, outlining his slightly chapped lips with her finger.

“Lots of things. Hedwig's death, Auror training …what about you?”

“I was home, asleep, or up with Henry or Sarah … maybe waiting for Ron to come home… writing another angry letter to you.”

“I started so many replies,” he whispered, kissing her index finger as he propped his head up on his elbow. “I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell you so much … but I couldn't, because it wouldn't be the same. When you called me, I was in the middle of a meeting and I couldn't leave. I would have dropped everything right there for you if I could, because I would have been directly talking to you… Then you called more and more, and I found myself scared. I was scared of what you'd say to me… That you didn't want me to come home…”

“I didn't know what to say to you either, honestly.” She admitted. “Ron thought I was being silly. But I just called that number to hear your voice…” she whispered. Harry wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“I never wanted to put you through that,” said Harry as he pulled her into his arms.

“You didn't do anyone good by staying there,” she said forcefully as she pushed him away.

“Hermione-”

“Don't. I wanted you to come home so badly… I didn't feel right asking you to, because I knew you would have dropped your whole life in Australia. I didn't know if you were married with children, or if you were still single. I didn't know anything, Harry. I didn't know if you were alive or dead, if you were okay… And I always knew Remus did. I knew you wrote to him, and I knew he was telling Molly to keep her satisfied. But why wouldn't you let him tell us?” demanded Hermione as she pulled away from him and sat up and pulled the duvet over her chest and stared at him.

“It killed me staying away from you, from everyone. I thought it would have been better if I had left, because it seemed to have all worked out- you and Ron, Ginny and Neville … you didn't need me. There was Harry and no one. I thought if I just left, you would have just forgotten me and moved on with your lives. Your letters kept me going. It was the thought that someone cared about me enough to still let me know what was going on, even if I didn't respond. I didn't want Remus to tell you anything because I knew you would have came after me. I wasn't ready for that. I liked it that no one knew who I was there, because Voldemort never went to Australia. I was just another Auror to them. I almost came back here so many times. I had the plane tickets and everything, but I couldn't do it. I didn't know how everyone would react. I'd been gone for three years the first time… I was at the gate and ready, but I was too much of a coward to leave … it was right after Henry was born, and I was sure you didn't need me as a burden around… So I stayed. I thought you would have stopped writing after the first few months and moved on after you realised I wasn't coming back… But you didn't stop. I wished you would have at times. I loved you so much; I had to let you go… You were happy, and your happiness mattered the world to me…”

“You should have told me,” she whispered as she buried her face in her hands. “I would have dropped everything to be with you…”

“Don't say that,” he said harshly. “If you had followed me, you wouldn't have Henry or Sarah.”

“You're right,” she said finally as she scooted over to his side and laid her head on his chest. “We're together now and that's what matters most…”

“Exactly…” he replied as he draped his arm over her shoulder.

“We should really put something on, just in case…”

“But-”

“I'm serious, Harry,” said Hermione as she pulled the blankets off them and silently climbed off the bed. She straightened up and felt Harry press himself against her backside. She couldn't help but groan. “Harry no … I'm too tired…”

“Don't say that to me again,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed her cheek and slid into a fresh pair of boxer shorts and sleep pants.

“Just wait until after our son is born,” she began wickedly, “you'll be hearing it for weeks.”

“I'll deal with that time when it comes,” he said simply as he climbed back into the bed and allowed her to curl up beside him and fall asleep.

x-x-x-x-x

“Harry!” shouted a male voice on the other side of the door. Harry was instantly jolted out of his sleep. “Are you awake?”

“Yes!” he shouted back as he scrambled out from underneath Hermione who gazed at him groggily.

He used his wandless magic to unlock the door and he breathlessly swung it open to reveal Edward Granger.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Harry stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief.

“We're leaving in twenty minutes. I suggest you dress in proper attire,” continued Edward seriously before leaving Harry standing alone in the corridor.

“What was that about?” asked Hermione as Harry shut the door and turned to his suitcase.

“Fuck…” he whispered.

“What?” she repeated.

“I haven't got a damn thing to wear golfing …”

“Just transfigure something,” she said, shaking her head.

“I'd be lost without you.” He said as he dressed quickly and allowed her to point her wand at his jeans and t-shirt.

“Hermione, seriously…”

“I think you look handsome,” she said fondly.

“I look like I'm thirty six, driving a minivan working a job I hate-”

“Better?”

“Thank you.” He replied gratefully as she smoothed out his polo shirt across his flat abdomen and kissed him quickly and pushed him towards the door.

“I'll see you tonight,” she called.

“If I live that long.” He muttered as he closed the door and perched his sunglasses on the top of his head and headed down the stairs.

“Where are your clubs?” questioned Edward.

“I don't have any,” replied Harry.

“You'll have to buy some when you get to the club then.”

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have a glove?”

“No I don't.”

“You'll have to get one of those as well.”

“Alright.”

“Come on. I told the boys we'd meet them for nine.”

Harry nodded and followed him out to the car. Harry put Edward's golfing supplies in the trunk of his BMW and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Do you drive, Harry?”

“I have a car, but I prefer to appearate.”

“What is it you drive?”

“A Mercedes Benz.”

“Good choice of vehicle.”

“It's kind of a waste. Hermione and I only make use of it when we go grocery shopping.”

“I see.”

“Yes…”

“How long have you known my daughter?”

“Almost seventeen years.”

“How long have you been in love with her?

Harry exhaled and looked away. “Fourteen years.”

Edward was silent as he drove. Harry was determined not to look at him. He knew the wheels were turning in Edward's head. He was in love with Hermione the whole time she was married to Ron. Hell, he was in love with her and living on another continent, totally unaware that Hermione felt the same as him.

“Did Ronald know about this?”

“He always knew. But he loved Hermione, as a sister … not as his wife. I've never doubted his affections for her.”

“You wouldn't do anything to hurt her?”

“I love your daughter, Edward. I'll try my hardest. All my life I've done things she hasn't approved of. You know I can't promise that,” said Harry seriously. “I wouldn't leave her for the world. I intend to marry her, raise our son with her, along with Henry and Sarah. I love them as if they are my own children. They're my family and I love them. They're all I've got.”

Edward remained silent.

“When I was living in Australia,” Harry began quietly, “she was the only one who wrote to me. She left me messages on my answering machine. Pointless ones, but she was the only one who cared about me. And I was selfish not to reply to her. But for almost ten years, she wrote to me once a month. She was the one thing that kept me going. Now she's giving me a son, and she said yes when I asked her to marry me. I owe her so much. I promise you Edward, the only way I'd leave her is in a body bag.”

Harry stared at him long and hard. Edward however, did not meet his gaze instead, he simply said, “welcome to the Granger family, Harry.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry lowered his aviators over his eyes as he stood alone on the green. He was aware of the six sets of eyes on his back. He was sure Edward's friend's thought he couldn't play at all. In fact, Harry was quite good. His gloved hand slowly clasped around the handle. He bent his knees slightly. Swung backward, and the club collided with the tiny white ball, sending it flying through the air and out of sight. He distantly saw the flag with the number 18 bolded being waved in the air. He had somehow managed to get it in the hole. Smirking, he turned towards the six men who stared at him, mouths gaping.

“What?” he asked, obviously confused.

“How old are you?” demanded the one named Richard.

“I'm twenty seven, Mr. Moore,” replied Harry as he slid the club into the leather case.

“How long have you been golfing?”

“About eleven years. Picked it up while I was living in Australia.”

“What is it you do, exactly?” asked Richard suspiciously.

“I'm a head of a team of investigators in London,” said Harry casually.

“Crime investigators?”

“You could say that.”

“At twenty seven?”

“At twenty seven.” Repeated Harry as he rolled his eyes.

“Why Edward, this boy is too good to be true. He must have a flaw somewhere.”

Edward chuckled as he clasped Harry on the back and smiled. “I don't know. He must be damn near perfect for my Hermione wanting to get married to him.”

“Did you go to the same private school as Hermione did?” inquired Glen.

“Yes I did. That's how we met.”

“Edward's Hermione was always a polite girl,” said Glen fondly.

“Helen and I raised her well. I'm glad she's finally happy.”

“Pregnant again, did you say earlier?”

“Yes she is. Almost six months, isn't it Harry?”

“Yes. The baby's due in December.”

“She'll be giving birth in London?”

“We haven't decided yet.” Said Harry truthfully.

Edward stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“We were thinking about going away before the baby's born. Just her and I… come back right before Christmas.”

“I see.”

x-x-x-x-x

It was late when Harry and Edward returned home. Harry had just settled his new golf clubs in the closet and had changed into a loose-fitting t-shirt and trousers when the door burst open.

“Harry!” cried Sarah as she rocketed into his arms.

“Hey kid, how are you?” asked Harry, laughing as he kissed the side of her head.

“I'm good. I missed you.” She whispered as she hugged him tightly.

“I missed you too, Sarah. Were you good for your mum and grandparents?”

“Yes.” She said happily.

“Where's your brother?”

“Billiards with grandpa.”

“And your mother?”

“She's watching with grandma. They sent me to get you.”

“Then we should go meet them, shouldn't we.”

“Yes we should,” she agreed as she tightened her grip on his neck as they walked out of the room.

Hermione looked up when the door to the games' room opened. Her face instantly lit up as she saw Sarah being held tightly in Harry's arms, beaming. She stood up as Harry let Sarah down and walked over to him.

“Hey,” he said softly as he kissed her cheek.

“Good game?”

“That's an understatement,” began Edward, his brow furrowed, “the boy whooped our arses.”

“Harry was always quite the athlete in school,” she said fondly.

Harry immediately became interested in the fingernails on his left hand as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

“We've heard,” said Helen as she stroked Sarah's hair.

“I was a seeker on our house team,” Harry explained.

“Puddlemere wanted you on their team badly. I think Wood forced them into it,” laughed Hermione.

“I would have loved to play for Puddlemere … I think it's rubbed off me now.”

“I think it's time you two went to bed,” announced Hermione.

“But mum-”wined Henry.

“No buts, Henry. You're practically dead on your feet. Upstairs and into your nightclothes. Harry and I will be up soon to tuck you in.”

“Fine…” grumbled Henry as he and his sister shuffled out of the room.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione groaned pleasurably as Harry gently massaged her shoulders.

“I've been thinking,” he began quietly as he kissed the back of her neck.

“About?” she inquired as she tilted her head forward to give him more access.

“A few weeks before the baby's born, how about you and I go away? Just somewhere only you and I know. I'll tell Remus so he'll know how to contact us in case something happens. That way St. Mungo's won't be flooded with reporters, and we can have some time with him in peace before we introduce him to the family.”

“Where will we go?”

“I stay in this amazing hotel in the Bahamas during Christmas. You'd love it there. It's very relaxing.”

“I like that idea.” She whispered as he moved away from her and lay on the bed with his hands folded behind his head. She settled herself alongside him. “Have you considered any names?”

“Not really,” he confessed truthfully.

“I was thinking if you were okay with it, we could name him after your father?”

“James?”

“James. You pick out his middle name.”

“I don't really know.”

“You've got four months to figure it out,” she whispered softly as she slowly drifted off into sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry hated working late. It seemed the closer December came, the more reports he had to go through piled up. He was slowly counting the days until he and Hermione would be leaving. They had filled Remus and Tonks in on their plans. Everything had been finalised, they were leaving the first week of December, and would return a week after the baby was born, in mid-December. They were staying on a small, populated muggle island where Harry had spent many Christmas's and vacations over the past several years. Hermione knew this place must be special for him, and by the way he talked about it, it appeared to be paradise. The healer had recommended her relaxation, and where they were staying, she would have everything at her fingertips, Harry assured her.

Baby James Potter was not going to be experiencing a magical birth. Instead, Hermione insisted that they shouldn't venture to find the nearest Wizarding establishment; she would be just fine in a muggle hospital. There, they would look like a regular couple that decided to have their child somewhere where they could have peace and quiet, along with having bonding time with their baby before returning home. This way, they were sure he would be away from the prying eyes of the media. No one would suspect that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had left the country to have their baby. As far as the rest of the Wizarding World was concerned, they would be staying in the best room St. Mungo's Maternity ward had to offer. Hermione had left her shop in the care of the assistant manager, Anna Kennings. For the entire Ministry knew that Harry had gone on a two-month leave so he and Hermione could have time to prepare and welcome their baby.

The flat was dark when Harry returned home. He and Hermione were scheduled to leave for the Bahamas in two days. Henry and Sarah had been set up at Ron and Lavenders flat so Harry and Hermione could have a few days to themselves before their departure. Ron kept pestering them to know where they were going, and both refused, and simply said, “Somewhere warm.”

“Hermione?” he called as he set his briefcase on the couch.

“Upstairs,” she called back.

Curious, Harry followed the sound of her voice and stopped at the room across from theirs. It was an empty room. They had both silently agreed that that it would be turned into the baby's room. But they never got around to it. The door was slightly ajar as Harry approached it. He swung it open to see Hermione folding baby clothes.

“Do you like it?” she asked anxiously.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked around the room. It had been painted the lightest shade of green, with blue accents throughout the room. The furniture inside was made of a fine, expensive cherry wood. On the wall over the crib had `JAMES' written out in antique iron letters.

“You didn't do this yourself?” he asked calmly.

“No. I picked it all out. Ron and Neville put everything together. I charmed the paint onto the walls and I just started putting everything together,” she said calmly as his fingers lightly traced the outline of the rocking chair. “You still haven't answered my question.”

Harry walked over to the large window and stared out across the darkening city. “It's beautiful,” he said softly. “It's all seemed so surreal until now. I've always known and understood we were going to have a baby, but now … it's finally sunk in…”

“I know,” said Hermione as she joined his side and slowly entwined their fingers and laid her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded quietly as he kissed the side of her head.

The next day went by smoothly, and the day of their departure was a cool rainy one. Harry had made all of their travel arrangements, and hadn't bothered to fill Hermione in, which began to make her suspicious of his actions. When she woke up, she had been surprised to find that all of her things were packed and ready to go, and Harry was up, showered and dressed. Harry helped her into her coat and held the door open for her then carried both suitcases down to the main entrance, where to Hermione's shock, a limousine was waiting for them.

“Harry!” she exclaimed slapping him on the shoulder as the driver made his way towards them to help Harry with their bags.

“Cheaper than a cab,” he shrugged as he helped her into the backseat, and then slid in beside her.

“You better not have gotten a jet,” she said warningly.

“Maybe on the way home,” he chuckled. “We're flying first class.”

“I can live with that,” she said, smiling as he kissed her cheek.

Hermione shifted in the leather seat and cupped Harry's face in her hands. “Thank you,” she whispered as he lowered his head towards hers. She threaded her fingers through the damp mess of curls on his head as his lips devoured hers. He pulled away from her, breathless as he stroked her face.

“You deserve it,” said Harry, his voice just above a whisper, “you've already done so much for me, let me do this for you.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed as she laid her head on his shoulder.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione had slept most of the flight while Harry chose to go over field reports that he had to have finished before the New Year. He was appreciative that he was out of England, where the snow had begun to fall and the temperatures dropped. He wasn't used to it, as he had lived in Australia for so long. He had become adapt to the constant warm weather, and was silently struggling getting used to the cool, rainy English temperatures again. He missed Australia, and the friends he had there. He had little to no contact with them since he returned to England almost ten months ago.

He glanced at Hermione's sleeping form and smiled before looking back down at his papers.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” asked the fight attendant.

“A bottle of water, please.” He responded without looking up as he put his pen between his teeth and began going through his briefcase. The attendant returned moments later with his bottle and left him to continue his work.

“Harry, put that away, we're supposed to be on vacation,” came Hermione's tired voice.

“I had to bring something to keep me occupied,” he countered as he slid the crisp pieces of parchment into the leather briefcase and pushed it under the seat. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, fine thank you.” She responded as she ran a hand through her hair as the seatbelt light came on, signalling that they were about to land.

Harry slowly took Hermione's hand in his as he leaned back into his seat. He and Hermione had changed into lighter clothing before they had boarded the plane. He was now simply dressed in a pair of knee-length kakis and a loose white button down shirt, while Hermione had worn a pale yellow sundress. They would blend easily amongst the tourists.

They exited the plane with everyone else, and collected their luggage. Hermione had gone off to use the loo while Harry obtained the keys to their rental car. He finally received the keys to a black Jetta when Hermione reappeared at his side.

“Ready?” he asked as he slipped the keys into his pocket and took hold of the handles of their suitcases.

“As I'll ever be,” she beamed.

Harry loaded their things into the boot of the car and slid into the drivers seat.

“Are you sure you know where you're going?” asked Hermione as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“I've been coming to this place for holidays for almost eight years. I know the route like the back of my hand,” Harry reassured.

Hermione remained silent, and sure enough, not even twenty minutes later, Harry had pulled into a parking lot in front of a large, bohemian-looking hotel on the beach, which was scattered with tiny little huts.

“We're staying inside,” he explained.

“More convenient?” she said as she climbed out.

“Yes, and safer,” said Harry as he removed his sunglasses and placed them on his head and led Hermione inside and walked up to the front desk.

The manager smiled warmly as Harry approached.

“A little late this year, Mr. Potter,” she said as she began typing on the computer.

“I'm not staying as long this year,” he explained as Hermione joined his side. “Just until the seventeenth.”

“What's the occasion?” she asked.

“My fiancé and I are having our baby here,” said Harry as he wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulder.

“Fiancé?” said the manager slowly as she took in Hermione's appearance. “Lord boy, you were here in January moping around, now you're here almost married with a baby.”

“Things happen, Julie.” Chuckled Harry as he signed the consent forms. “Could you do me a big favour?”

“Anything for our guests.”

“If anyone calls here looking for a Harry Potter, Harry Evans-Potter, Hermione Granger, or Hermione Weasley, tell them that you have no one here under that name? Or if anyone comes in with a camera and looks like a reporter, have them escorted off the premises.”

“Would you mind if I asked why?”

“I can't release that information,” replied Harry apologetically as he and Hermione walked away.

“Because you're the savoir of the wizarding world and the press has been trying to get pictures of us together, and the first pictures of James,” giggled Hermione.

Harry shook his head as Hermione followed him into the lift.

“How long has Julie been working here?” inquired Hermione.

“No idea,” replied Harry, “but she's been here every time I've come here for a vacation.”

“I see,” she said as Harry unlocked the door with the key card and swung it wide-open and stepped aside.

Hermione audibly gasped as she stepped inside. The room wasn't a standard hotel room by any means. It was large with a bright, inviting sitting room that led to double glass doors that opened to a private veranda that overlooked the clear blue ocean. To the left of the sitting room were two doorways, which presumably led to the bedroom and bathroom.

“I have to check on something,” she distantly heard Harry say as he disappeared through one of the doors. Hermione seized the opportunity to go outside. As soon as she stepped outside, she was bet by a comforting breeze and breathtaking view.

“There you are,” came Harry's voice.

Hermione said nothing.

“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously as he joined her side.

“This is all too much,” she whispered while he gently rubbed her back as fell into his embrace. “I don't deserve any-”

“Don't say that,” said Harry forcefully, “you deserve this, and so much more. You're the mother of my child, the love of my life. I'd rent us the whole bloody island if you had let me. Don't think any of that… We're here so James can come into the world peacefully, and we wouldn't have to deal with the Prophet, or any of them,” he whispered as they sank down onto the padded swing.

“I'm sorry, Harry … my emotions are everywhere … I don't want to be pregnant anymore … I just want the baby out…”

“Soon, Hermione, soon.”

“I don't understand how you can be so calm.”

“I'm scared shitless, Hermione,” Harry admitted quietly, “I don't know the first thing about raising kids. I don't know anything about what to do when a baby cries … I'm so scared I'll fuck up and something bad with happen to James, just because of who his father is. The people from the Prophet will be everywhere trying to find us with him. I'm just so scared that I'll end up in some situation where I won't be able to defend or help him…”

“Harry, I had no idea…”

“I have to think like that, Hermione… They won't leave us alone for months after he's born because of me … when we get married, it'll be fanatical…”

Hermione stroked his face lovingly with her hand, causing him to relax slightly. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “After James is born, and we're both out of the hospital, you and I should just get married here s we can avoid all of it. Don't tell anyone until we're ready…”

“Sounds like an idea,” replied Harry, “it would make things easier on everyone.”

“Don't put much thought into it now,” she warned, “our focus now is on the baby.”

“You're right,” he agreed as he draped his arm lazily over her shoulders. “C'mon, I want to show you our room.”

“Alright, but then I have to call Sarah and Henry. I promised them I would once we arrived.”

“Okay,” he said as he pushed open the door.

It was a vision of white. There was a large, inviting king-sized bed, along with a cream-coloured suede couch and arm chair, accompanied by a dark oak coffee table. Against the wall was an armoire entertainment centre, which appeared to be made of the same wood. At the foot of their bed was a bassinette with a mobile. Hermione made a beeline towards it.

“How did you…?” Hermione asked him softly.

“You pointed it out in that magazine… I went through it after you left it and ordered it. I kept it in my office as a surprise for you.”

“Harry, this thing cost a fortune.”

“It doesn't matter anymore.” He said simply, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“How did you come into so much money?” she asked suspiciously.

“I already had what I inherited from my parents, then my trust funds and everything else came into effect when I turned eighteen, but I didn't tell anyone then… I inherited from Sirius when he died, from Dumbledore, and I believe I get something when Remus kicks it. I started making good money when I became an Auror, and I started making a shitload when I became head of the Auror department.” He explained as he ticked the names off his fingers.

“I had no idea,” said Hermione, who was obviously surprised.

“I apparently own a nice old home in Ireland, too. Via Evans side of the family.”

“I see.”

“I don't want any of it, Hermione,” he said quietly after a few moments of silence. “Bit it allows my family the lifestyle they deserve. I'd give Henry, Sarah, and James the world if I could…”

Hermione stared at him with tears flowing freely down her cheeks as he launched her pregnant form into his arms and kissed every inch of his face she could reach, muttering something like “what I always wanted”. Harry turned his head slightly and caught her by surprise by capturing her lips with his.

“You know we can't,” she groaned as she pulled away from him.

Harry looked down at her stomach and said sternly “Hurry up, daddy would like to have sex again.”

Hermione's tinkling laugh filed the air as she sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the phone and dialled Ron and Lavender's number. Harry chose to leave to give her some privacy.

“Hello sweetheart, how are you?” she asked softly as she heard Sarah's voice.

“I'm good, mummy. Did you have the baby yet?”

“No, I haven't. Within the next week and a half, Sarah honey. I promise I'll make Harry call as soon as the baby's born.”

“Okay. Where is Harry?”

“In the loo.”

“Oh. Okay. Tell him hi.”

“I will. Can I speak to Henry?”

“Okay, mummy. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Hi mum,” came Henry's voice.

“Hey Henry.”

“Are you alright, mum?”

“A little tired, but good. How're you?”

“Good. Dad took us to Puddlemere's game. It was awesome!”

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“Yeah. When're you, dad, and James coming home?”

Hermione was silent for several seconds. “What did you just say?”

“I…” Henry stuttered. “Sarah's been calling him dad for months now. I guess it's rubbing off on me,” he said, in a would-be careless voice.

“Henry, that's wonderful!”

“Dad said it was okay with him if it was okay with Harry.”

“I'm sure he'll be ecstatic. He loves the two of you very much.”

“He's cool.”

“Henry, I'm going to tell you something. But you can't tell a soul. Promise?”

“I promise, mum.”

“Harry and I are going to get married here after James is born. Is that okay?”

“Yeah mum. That's great! I promise I won't say anything.”

“I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, mum.”

“Call you soon, I promise.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

-->

7. Chapter 6

Hermione sighed as she hung up the phone. She soon felt Harry's arms slide around her neck as he planted an innocent kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured in her ear.

“And I love you,” she replied softly as she leaned back into his embrace.

“I'm going to take a nap,” he said finally as he pulled away from her.

“I'm going to go read outside. It's so beautiful…”

“Alright. Wake me if you need anything.”

“I will,” she assured.

“Good,” he yawned as he peeled off his shirt and fell into the bed and closed his eyes.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry and Hermione dedicated their first week to relaxing and sightseeing. They had found the local hospital, and Hermione had met with the specialist, who confirmed their suspicions about the baby being ready to be born at any time.

It was three am on a warm December 6th when Harry was roused from his sleep. He was alone in the bed. Slightly alarmed, he through the covers off his semi-naked form and peered into the sitting room. He light was on in the bathroom.

“Hermione?” he called; his voice raspy from sleep.

“Bathroom,” she called back.

He quickly pushed open the bathroom door to see Hermione pushing a towel around on the floor with her foot.

“My water broke.” She said quietly.

“Oh shit,” muttered Harry as he ran a hand through his hair and stared at her.

“This isn't the time for you to start your swearing,” she warned, referring to Harry's habit of cursing whenever he got frustrated or nervous.

“I'm sorry,” he said apologetically. “Should we get dressed and drive to the hospital?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Harry had quickly put on a Snow Patrol t-shirt, pyjama pants and his trainers as Hermione pulled on a loose zipper-up sweater over her night gown and Harry grabbed her hospital bag and rushed her into the lift.

“Have you had any contractions yet?” he asked as she leaned into him.

“Not yet, but I expect they'll be starting soon,” she whispered as he gave her a comforting hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Okay,” he said simply as he helped her into the Jetta. As he was settling in, she let out an audible groan and clutched his hand.

“It's going to be okay,” he whispered.

“Just get me to the fucking hospital,” she said through gritted teeth as he tore out of the parking lot. Harry sped the whole way. He silently thanked Merlin that there were no muggle police out. As son as they entered the hospital, they were quickly met by a nurse and a wheelchair. Hermione eased herself down into the chair and allowed the nurse to lead her and Harry to their private room.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry had somehow fallen asleep in the chair by Hermione's bed. He had closed his eyes for what seemed like a minute, the next he was greeted with a-

“HARRY JAMES POTTER WAKE UP IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR YOU!” shouted Hermione, nearly sending Harry flying out of his chair.

“Memories of my childhood…” he muttered to himself as he yawned.

“Ms. Granger, we're going to need you to start pushing,” instructed the doctor.

Harry looked out the window to see that the sun was indeed shining bright. He glanced down at his wristwatch; it was nearly seven am. He had been asleep for two hours. A wave of guilt rushed through him as Hermione grasped his hand. He smoothed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead lovingly. Hermione let out a strangled cry as she pushed. Harry was sure she was soon going to break the skin of his palm with her fingernails. He felt utterly helpless to her as he whispered words of encouragement.

“Mr. Potter would you like to see your baby's head?” asked the doctor.

“Sure,” replied Harry quietly as he peered over the sheet.

“What is it?” asked Hermione breathlessly.

Harry grinned. “The Potter genes live on.”

Hermione groaned, “He probably looks just like you.”

Harry frowned. “You say it like it's a bad thing.”

“Oh shut up,” she groaned as Harry felt the skin break in his right hand.

“Mr. Potter, can you come here?” instructed the doctor as Harry reluctantly left Hermione's side. He came face to face with half of his son's struggling form. “You're going to catch him,” explained the doctor. “I need you to give me one more huge push, Ms. Granger.”

Harry stared at the man like he was insane.

“Come on then.”

Harry closed his eyes and positioned himself in front of Hermione. I must look ridiculous, he thought. Standing in front of his soon-to-be-wife in sea foam green hospital scrubs looking like a deer caught in headlights. Oh, if the Wizarding world could see him now.

“Alright, Hermione Now… 3 … 2 … 1…”

Harry's breath caught in his throat as the small, blood covered boy fell kicking and screaming into his arms. The doctors and nurses quickly cut the umbilical cord and removed the baby from Harry's arms. He was beside Hermione in a flash. He grasped her hand as her tears flowed down her face. He bent down and pressed a passionate kiss to her moist lips.

“Harry? Hermione?”

They broke apart to see the nurse beaming at them as she held a bundle of green blankets in her arms. Hermione struggled to sit up as the nurse placed their child into her arms and left them alone.

Hermione stared down at their tiny pink son, with wisps of jet-black hair, identical to Harry's.

“He's gorgeous,” she whispered as Harry slid onto the bed beside her.

“He is,” agreed Harry as he reached over and moved the blanket so he could see his son's sleeping face.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but can we have his name for the birth certificate?” asked their nurse gently.

Hermione looked to Harry.

“James Noah Potter,” said Harry finally, his voice just above a whisper.

“Noah is an interesting name,” commented the nurse.

“Yeah,” said Harry as Hermione gasped. His head snapped over to James, who had opened his eyes. Emerald Green made contact with emerald green.

“Damnit Harry, he's you!” laughed Hermione.

“Yeah well…” he said scratching t he back of his neck, “can't help it if my good looks over powered. But he's got your nose. Lord knows he'll be smarter than Merlin. Look at who his parents are; top students at Hogwarts.”

“True…” sighed Hermione as she stroked James's tiny head.

Harry clambered off the narrow hospital bed and fished out his cell phone from his sweater. “Smile,” he whispered.

“What're you doing?” she demanded.

“Taking a picture to send to your parents and Ron.”

“Don't. We'll make the rounds when we get home. Mum and dad are staying with us for Christmas, remember? They're already at the flat. They'll see him when we get home.”

“True,” replied Harry.

“But go outside and call them … they'll all be sacks of nerves.”

“I'll change out of these … but do you mind if I got a coffee? I'm not too fond of the stuff they serve here.”

“If you get me a latté and scone.”

“I'll bring you your scone and latté,” he reassured as he bent over and kissed her passionately, then placed a soft kiss to James's head.

He quickly changed and headed down to the lobby. He flipped open his mobile and dialled his home number.

“Hello?” came Helen's voice.

“Hey Helen,” said Harry brightly.

“Did Hermione…?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes, about an hour ago. James Noah Potter.”

“Oh, that's absolutely wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, it is,” laughed Harry. “I expect we'll be home by next Sunday.”

“I'll tell Edward the good news.”

“Thank you,” said Harry and ended their conversation. He walked into a small coffee shop and got in line behind a short, podgy man and dialled Ron.

“Hello?” said Lavender.

“Hey, Lavender. Where's Ron?”

“He's at Molly's with Henry and Sarah. I've only just got back.”

“Ah. Shit.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked worriedly.

“Everything's fantastic, actually.”

“Has Hermione had the baby?”

“She did this morning.”

“Oh Harry, that's wonderful! I'll tell Ron immediately when he gets home … Sarah will be absolutely thrilled … what did you name it?”

“James Noah Potter.”

“That's a beautiful name.”

“Thanks. Lavender I've got to go, but tell Ron for me…”

“Of course I will. Talk to you later, Harry.”

“Bye, Lavender.”

“Can I help you sir?” asked the teenage boy behind the counter.

“Two blueberry scones, one mocha latté, and one extremely large black coffee.”

“One moment please.”

Harry took this opportunity to ring Remus.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hello Remus. How are you?”

“As well as to be expected with a full moon approaching. How's Hermione?”

“She's doing well. She gave birth this morning.”

“James?”

“James Noah.”

“Looks like you, I suppose.”

“Unfortunately.”

“I can't wait to see him; I'm sure Tonks can't either.”

“We'll likely be home by next Sunday.”

“Alright. Take care, Harry. Give my best to Hermione.”

“I will. Thank you for everything, Remus.”

“The Prophet's been shitting themselves over you and Hermione.”

Harry laughed. “Good.”

“I'll see you when you get home. Congratulations again.”

“Thanks. Bye.” Harry slid the phone into his pocket and took the bag and tray from the server behind the counter and paid. Harry rushed back to the hospital to Hermione and James. When he arrived, he found Hermione asleep, and James was in a crib by her bed. Quietly setting the bag and tray down, he walked over to his son's crib. James was indeed awake. Harry bent down and carefully picked up James who squirmed slightly in his father's arms Harry slowly sank down into the chair beside Hermione's bed and stared down at his son.

James was indeed his father's son. With his jet-black hair and unusually green eyes, he was sure to grow up to look exactly like Harry. Harry smiled faintly as the baby's hand curled around his finger. Harry sighed contently as he glanced at Hermione's sleeping form. Now, after giving birth, Harry found she had never looked more beautiful. Her hair somehow managed to stay in its perfectly corkscrew-curled state, her limps plump and inviting. He could only imagine the shine in her eyes when she awoke. He guiltily allowed his eyes to travel down to her chest, where her perfectly round breasts were rising and following peacefully, even with every breath she took. Merlin, he loved her body. She was made for him, and he thanked whatever higher power there was for it every single day he woke up with her next to him.

“Harry?” came Hermione's tired voice.

“Yeah?”

“Where's James?”

“Right here with me, love.” Said Harry as he carefully handed the baby to his mother.

“Did you get my scone and latté?”

“Yes I did. Do you want them now?”

“Later,” she said as she looked adoringly down at James.

x-x-x-x-x

Three days later, Hermione and James were permitted to leave the hospital. Harry was happy that they could finally all be together, as he had gotten used to having Hermione in bed with him. He had been highly uncomfortable the past few night because he had been sleeping alone. Hermione had practically been glowing the day she, Harry, and James left the hospital.

It was obvious Harry loved his son very much. Whenever someone came near, he kept a watchful eye over both mother and child. Remus had called him the precious day with an update. It appeared the English Wizarding population was anticipating the arrival of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger's baby. It had been made painfully obvious that they were not in the country. Harry hadn't shown up at work for weeks, Hermione's bookstore was in the care of the assistant manager. There were rumours that the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had undercover reporters in Heathrow Airport, waiting to alert the rest of the media of their arrival.

They decided to leave on Thursday. They called Helen and Edward to alert them of t heir travel arrangements, and under no circumstances were they to meet them at the airport. They were determined not to allow anyone to take a picture of their baby.

“Harry?” called Hermione from the balcony where she was feeding James his bottle.

“Yes?” he said as he appeared in the doorway looking dishevelled wearing nothing but stark white Bermuda shorts.

“Can you finish this? I need to use the loo.”

“Of course.” He said happily as he lifted his son out of her arms and took the bottle from her. As soon as James was settled in his arms, Harry gave him his bottle and leaned against the railing.

They had looked into wedding chapels, and finally agreed on using the one that was located in their hotel. It would be a small, quick and private ceremony. Hermione secretly felt bad because she had invited his aunt to their wedding, and here they were eloping. She still hadn't mentioned a thing about it to Harry.

“Hold still,” said Hermione quietly.

Harry looked up to see Hermione holding her camera.

“Let me put a shirt on or something,” protested Harry.

“No. It's too perfect. You're in your white shorts, and he's just in a diaper … you're both in white. And the backgrounds beautiful…” she said fervently.

“Fine.” Harry muttered as he shifted James in his arms. He blinked as the flash went off, and James let out a cry of protest. Harry set the bottle on the ledge and held his smiley son out in front of him. “You shit yourself. Bugger.” He muttered as he slid his forearm under his bottom and supported his head with his hand and walked past Hermione who shook her head, smiling. Harry walked into the bathroom and nicked a clean diaper and walked over to the changing table and laid James down on it. He quickly removed the diaper. Making a face, he quickly produced his wand and muttered a quick Evanesco.

Five minutes later, he had dressed and laid the baby in his crib and went to join Hermione. He found her lying on the couch, smiling faintly, he silently approached her. Harry slowly lowered himself on top of her and began kissing her neck. Her hands flew to his hair as his lips came in contact with hers.

“Harry no,” she groaned as his hands slid up her camisole.

“Harry yes,” he whispered roughly.

“I can't for another week, you know that.”

“For fuck sakes…” he swore as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“I want it too, but the doctor said-”

“To hell with him. I'll take you to a healer.”

“No you won't,” she replied warningly as he wrapped her arms around his bare back and kissed his cheek.

“Want to go get married?” he asked finally.

“When?”

“Now.”

“But-”

“No buts.”

“I'm not dressed or anything,” she protested.

“Well go put on a dress, and I'll find a clean shirt and put James in his seat…”

“Alright,” she said finally as he climbed off her and disappeared into the bedroom. He quickly checked on James before he opened his suitcase and pulled out a navy blue cotton button down shirt. He saw Hermione thumbing though her dresses out of the corner of his eye. Rolling his eyes, he quickly buttoned his shirt up and directed his attention towards his son. He carefully picked up the sleeping baby and placed him in the car seat and picked it up. He glanced at Hermione, who had finally settled on a pale pink strapless dress that seemed to flow around her.

“Ready?” he asked as she slid into her shoes.

“Yes.” She said softly.

“You look absolutely amazing,” said Harry truthfully.

Hermione blushed, “you clean up nice.”

“I try,” he joked.

“I can't believe this,” whispered Hermione, as they stood alone in the lift.

“It's very surreal,” agreed Harry while they walked into the lobby and headed towards the chapel.

“Can I help you?” questioned the friendly middle-aged man who was seated at a desk in the corner.

“We saw your brochure…” explained Hermione

“Ah,” he said simply as he stood up. “You two wish to be married?”

“Quickly,” said Harry.

“Alright,” said the Minister joyfully as he rubbed his hands together. “Do you have rings?”

“No. Is there any way we can purchase them?” inquired Harry.

“The hotel jewellers have a celestial selection.”

“Wonderful,” said Hermione, beaming.

“I'd be happy to show you the selection.”

Ten minutes later, they had purchased simple gold bands. Harry had promised Hermione they would get her something more suitable when they returned home; as the selection in the hotel didn't exactly have what they were looking for. For now, they didn't want anything that was flashy, or that would attract attention to them. It was the last thing they wanted at the moment. They had quickly sighed the necessary paperwork to make everything official for them. Presently, they were standing in front of the Minster; James was asleep in the front pew in his seat.

Harry had seemed to have fallen into a daze. He had said all the suitable things Father Mathews had instructed him to say at the right times, but further down the road, he knew he wouldn't remember it. His senses finally kicked in when he took the cool, gold wedding band into his hand and placed it in front of Hermione's delicate ring finger. He locked eyes with her and she flashed him an encouraging smile.

“I, Harry James Potter, take you, Hermione Jane Granger as my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for rich and for poor. I promise to love you for as long as I live, and on after the day they burn my body.” Harry recited quietly as he slid the ring slowly onto her finger.

Hermione drew in a shaky breath. “I, Hermione Jane Granger, take you, Harry James Potter as my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for rich and for poor. I promise to love you for as long and I live, and on after the day they burn my body.” Repeated Hermione as she gave Harry his ring.

Father Mathews smiled and stated, “I'm honoured to pronounce you husband and wife.”

Harry grinned as Hermione launched herself into his arms and he kissed her passionately. Her fingers wove into his hair as he pulled her body as close to his as possible. When the need for air overtook them, they carefully broke apart. Harry rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” replied Hermione breathlessly before standing on the tips of her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek before turning to James, who had started to whimper.

x-x-x-x-x

England was covered in a glistening white sheet of snow when Harry and Hermione stepped off the plane. To their relief, James had slept for the most part of the flight home. Before entering the public terminals, Harry had dawned his winter jacket and he kept his hood up, keeping his face semi covered. He had put the top over James and placed a blanket over the front so he couldn't be seen, and it kept him sheltered from the harsh cold as he and Hermione quickly exited Heathrow as quickly as they could, in case the rumours about the media scouts were true. They had simply minimized their luggage so they wouldn't have to deal with the baggage terminal, which would waste their time.

They took a taxi back to their flat, where Hermione's parents had been staying since the first of the month to make the place look like it was being lived in. They intended to spend Christmas together as a family, resulting in Ron and Lavender staying with them on Christmas Eve. It was important to Hermione that they all were together on Christmas morning, no matter who was married or seeing who. Christmas was a time for family, and she was determined to make sure they were all together.

Harry paid the cab driver and quickly retrieved their luggage while Hermione entered the building to get James in out of the cold. Harry followed her into the lift and smiled down at her lovingly.

“We should take off the rings,” said Hermione sadly.

Harry simply nodded as he smoothly slid the wedding band off his finger and carefully placed it in the pocket of his jeans. The lift doors silently opened and they stepped into the tiny corridor. Harry drew his keys out of his jacket pocket and carefully unlocked the door. He swung it open and stepped aside so Hermione could enter.

“I don't think they're here,” commented Hermione as she took off her jacket and hung it up in the closet.

“No,” replied Harry as he pointed his wand at their luggage and sent them flying to their room. . Harry slowly undid the buttons to his jacket and removed his gloves as he watched Hermione tend to their son. He hung his jacket up alongside hers and joined her side.

“Would you mind if I took a bath?” she asked softly as she handed him the baby. Harry arched an eyebrow. “Alone,” she added.

“I would have offered you my company,” he began as he took James in his arms, smiling, “but if you want to be alone in that bloody Olympic sized bathtub upstairs…”

“Harry knock it off,” she said, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

“Don't abuse me with our son in my arms,” he said warningly as he walked towards the kitchen.

“I'll be down in an hour or so,” she called.

“If you're not down in an hour I'm going up there to make sure you're still alive,” he called back. “And if you seem asleep or dead, I'm climbing in.”

No reply came as he heard the bedroom door slam shut. He shifted the sleeping baby comfortably into his arms while he poured himself a cool glass of water from the jug in the refrigerator. Harry looked down as James made a noise in his sleep and smiled. He ran his hand lovingly over his son's thin black hair and walked into the dimly lit sitting room and slowly lowered himself on his back on the couch, with James asleep on his chest. Harry laid his arm protectively over his son and soon, he himself had fallen asleep.

x-x-x-x-x

True to her word, Hermione silently descended down the staircase an hour later. The lights in the sitting room had been dimmed, and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. She checked the kitchen, and the only trace of him there was the water goblet sitting abandoned on the counter. He wasn't in the dining room. She would have heard him if he had come up the stairs towards his office. She double-checked the sitting room, and the sight on the couch melted her heart.

Both Harry and James were fast asleep. Harry had subconsciously draped his arm protectively over his son, while the other was wound behind his own head, supporting it. She couldn't will herself to disturb them. Smiling, she carefully brushed Harry's fringe out of his eyes and turned away from them. She walked over to her bookcase and removed one of the books and turned on the lamp by the overstuffed armchair and settled herself into it. She gazed intently at her husband and son. She prayed that they would be able to put their marriage out into the open soon. She didn't like sneaking around, only wearing their wedding rings in the privacy of their bedroom or hotel room. She understood that the Wizarding World had a sick fascination with her husband, and it was that sort of thing that drove him away to Australia in the first place. She knew he wouldn't leave for Australia again. Not now after the birth of their son, and their wedding. But she knew the media attention annoyed him greatly, and she knew he would never admit it. He had never enjoyed having his life on display. And now he feared it. He feared for the safety of his wife and son. She guessed the incident with Rita Skeeter in their fourth year always stuck with him.

Harry deserved a quiet life. He had worked extremely hard to be where he was now. He had a family that loved him; he had a job he enjoyed. He didn't deserve the Prophet hounding him at work. She didn't let on that they were sometimes outside of her bookstore trying to get an interview with her, to see what Harry Potter was really like. They tried to get details on the supposed drama that was surrounding them. And every reporter knew there was no truth to the filth they had reported about him or her. The rumour that James wasn't even his had driven him over the edge. He was ready to storm into the office and strangle the editor. She had forced him to stay home from work that day.

Hermione silently turned the page in her book when she heard the locks on the door click. She looked up expectantly when the door swung open, revealing her pink-cheeked mother.

“I say, Edward, they'll likely be home by now,” said Helen as she removed her scarf and hat.

“Hello mum,” said Hermione quietly as she got to her feet. “They're sleeping,” she added gesturing towards the couch.

“Oh Hermione!” exclaimed Helen as she embraced her daughter. “How was your vacation?”

“It was beautiful, mum,” said Hermione as she hugged her father tightly. “How are you daddy?”

“I'm marvellous, Hermione.”

“Oh Hermione, he's beautiful…” said Helen softly as she peered over the couch.

“Thank you, Helen,” came Harry's tired voice as he struggled to sit up.

“The baby, you prat,” snapped Hermione hitting him on the back of the head before she removed James from his arms and handed him to her mother.

“I know,” said Harry as he rubbed the back of his head and got to his feet. “Edward,” he acknowledged.

“Harry,” Edward replied.

“His eyes, Hermione … the most stunning emerald eyes…” gushed Helen, as she softly rocked the infant.

“Wouldn't know where they came from,” mumbled Hermione as she rolled her eyes as Harry left the room to go to the washroom.

“He is a beautiful baby, Hermione,” said Edward as Helen passed the squirmy baby to him. “Congratulations to you and Harry.”

“We really appreciate it, we really do.”

“Does he sleep all night?” asked Helen.

“No. But he's very quick … it takes only about a half an hour to forty-five minutes to get him fed, changed, and put back to asleep. We were blessed.” She explained as Harry joined her side, looking slightly dishevelled. “The least you could have done is ran a brush through your hair,” she whispered.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “Jet leg hits me hard.”

Hermione shook her head as she took her son from her father and they all headed into the sitting room.

“Have you spoken to Henry and Sarah yet?” asked Helen once they were settled.

“No mum,” replied Hermione. “We've only just got home. We got in about an hour and a half ago … I should go do that now… Ron and Lavender can bring them over …”

“I'll take him,” said Harry as Hermione handed him the baby.

“Can I use the floo in your office?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione politely as she silently disappeared up the staircase.

“I'm just going to go change him,” said Harry finally.

Helen nodded as Harry got to his feet and climbed the stairs to James's room. He pushed open the door and flicked on the lights and gently laid his son down on the changing table.

“You're very lucky,” he whispered as he changed the diaper. “You're going to grow up into a handsome, strong, young man. You're going to have both your parents that love you, as well as your brother and sister. You haven't met them yet, but you will. Henry and Sarah. They're great kids,” he continued.

James simply stared at him.

“But you're lucky because you're going to have a great childhood. As soon as you're old enough, I'll take you flying out in the country. I'll teach you every Quiddich position in the book. But since you're my son, I think you'll be a remarkable seeker. You're going to be safe. You'll grow up in a world with no Dark Lords. Daddy's got a team of Aurors looking for the last of the death eaters. I promise you'll be safe.” He finished as he picked up the diapered baby and walked over to the dresser. He selected a tiny sweater and a pair of pants and carefully dressed his son.

He reopened the door and walked down the stairs to find the sitting room fuller than what it was before. Seated there were now Ron, Lavender, Henry, and Sarah. Hermione had rejoined them. Hermione got to her feet and smiled at Harry as she gently lifted James from his arms and kissed her husband softly before turning to the company in their sitting room.

x-x-x-x-x

As the months went by, Harry became busier and busier. They had finally received leads on the whereabouts of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and a group of other Death Eaters. They were in Bolivia, of all places. Harry had assembled a team of the top Aurors the Ministry had to offer, including himself. Only the Minister of Magic and the Aurors involved knew of the Bolivia mission. He hadn't said a word to Hermione. He wasn't sure of how she would react. He knew she would be upset and worried. He hadn't left since James was born, almost six months ago. They were leaving tomorrow for Bolivia, and Harry had taken half the day off so he could tell Hermione. She would be furious with him, but waiting until the last minute was for her own good. It left her no time to try and convince him to stay. But this was something he needed to do. The last twenty Death Eaters had been on the top of his priority list since he became Head of the Auror Department. Now he would take pleasure in watching those who had caused his friends and family pain die. It was sick and wrong, but it was something he needed to do. To find closure, and live a normal life with his family for once and for all.

He was thankful that it was the week that Ron had Henry and Sarah. When he arrived home at noon, he had sent the nanny home so he could spend some time alone with his infant son. He had just finished feeding James his lunch, and he was now sitting in his highchair pushing Cheerios around the plastic table with his chubby fingers as his father silently memorized his every movement.

“Alice, I hope James has-” came Hermione's voice, but she stopped when she saw Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his face expressionless as he watched their son. “Harry?”

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, slightly alarmed at his tone of voice.

“Sit down,” he continued, still not looking at her as she set her coat on the back of a chair and sat down beside him and took his hands in hers.

“What's going on?”

“I have to leave for Bolivia first thing in the morning,” he said seriously as he held her gaze. “I have no idea how long I'll be gone, or what state I'll be in when I get home. We found the last of the Death Eaters there, and we're going to get rid of them.” He explained.

“Why would you agree to something like that?” she asked angrily.

“I didn't have a choice,” he said quietly. “Hermione, I'm head of the department … they sought after the top Aurors for the case. This is coming from a higher power than me, or the Minister himself… It's coming from the International Federation of Witches and Wizards, Hermione … I can't control what they want.”

“Then say you're sick-”

“You know I can't do that.”

“Merlin, Harry … they're the most dangerous Death Eaters. I don't want you going there.” She said stubbornly.

“I don't' have a choice,” he repeated loudly as he got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. “I promise you I'll be fine. I'll come home alive.”

“You can't promise me that.” She shot back, also getting to her feet. James looked at his parents curiously, Cherrios abandoned.

“Hermione, I'll be okay,” he assured her as he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

“You haven't gone on a mission in almost a year, are you certain…?”

“I'll be okay,” he repeated into her silky tresses.

“You're an idiot,” said Hermione, her voice muffled in his jumper.

“I know.” He replied as she placed her hands on his broad shoulders and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her against the counter as he tasted her tears on her lips. His tongue gently prodded her moist lips, begging for an entrance to her mouth. She obliged to him, and soon her tongue was tangled with his. She soon felt his reaction to her pressing against her stomach. James emitting a cry of protest quickly brought them out of their world, as their attention was focused on each other, and not him.

Breathless, they turned to their son. Hermione quickly unfastened him from his highchair and whispered soothing words to him, calming him down, and soon, he was asleep. Hermione and Harry silently climbed the stairs and laid him in his crib and tucked him in. Harry gently kissed his son on his brow before he and Hermione exited the room. She pushed open the door to their bedroom and Harry followed her inside. She turned around to face him and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Harry lowered her onto their unmade bed and skilfully removed her blouse and quickly removed her bra. He rained kisses across her chest and suckled each of her breasts before she pushed him off her and she pushed his jumper up over his head and he threw it blindly across the room before she allowed him to pull her into his strong embrace. Her hands undid his jeans as he hiked her skirt up to her waist. A ripping sound filled the air as her now ruined knickers soared across the room. Harry felt her shove his jeans and boxers to his knees as they fell backwards, with him lying on top of her. He parted her legs with his knee and quickly thrust himself inside of her, causing her to moan loudly and mutter something incoherent about being gentle. Harry however, ignored her pleas as he roughly moved in and out of her, and soon, she forgot all about gentle lovemaking.

It had been a while since they had had rough sex. There had always been children in the house, so they had to be quiet. With their newfound charm that they placed on James's crib to alert them in their room with a series of noises, they could place silencing charms around the room so no one could hear the squeaking of the mattress, and they could be as loud as the hell they wanted.

She could have screamed when she came. It was nothing like she had ever felt before. She and Harry had never been like this. She had read in cheesy romance novels that the prospect of a battle made a man's blood run hot with desire, and she was beginning to think it was true. With one mighty thrust, Harry's seed filled her, completing her. Harry collapsed on top of her, sweaty and shaking. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed his wet fringe out of his eyes and kissed his forehead as they rolled on their sides, still joined together. She felt Harry's hands slid down her sides to cup her behind, burying himself to the hilt inside of her, causing her to groan pleasurably and instinctively wrap her legs around his waist. He kissed her passionately before she untangled her legs from his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his chest, and soon fell asleep.

x-x-x-x-x

It was dark outside when Harry's eyes fluttered open. He instantly realised that he was still inside of his sleeping wife, and his reaction happened almost immediately. Carefully, he removed himself from her. Harry slowly climbed out of the bed and pulled on his discarded boxers and carefully opened the door and slid across the hall to check on James. No bells and whistles had gone off, which meant somehow, the baby was still asleep. Harry entered the room and walked over to the crib and saw indeed, that James was still asleep.

Rolling his eyes, he picked up his son, who awoke instantly. Harry changed his diaper and walked over to the small mat on the floor and sat down with James. The baby squealed with glee as he reached for the blocks with his hands, and discovered that he couldn't reach. Chuckling to himself, Harry leaned forward and pushed them with his hand into his son's reach.

Harry sat quietly as James contently pushed and suckled on the plastic blocks for what seemed like hours. Smiling, Harry smoothed his son's identical messy silky black hair out and kissed the top of the boy's head. James lifted a lime green block up in his direction and looked at him expectantly. Harry took it from him and James turned determinedly back to his pile. Harry smiled and set the block by his side and quietly watched his son.

“Hungry, buddy?” he asked finally. James stared.

“I know I am. Your mum's one hell of a woman,” he commented as he lifted James into his arms and stood up.

Silence.

“I love her a lot,” he continued quietly as he walked past their bedroom and headed down the stairs towards the kitchen. “And I love you. This is why I hate leaving in the morning.”

Harry shifted James into his other arm as he produced a bottle from the cupboard and filled it with formula and cast a warming charm on it and gave it to the baby who took it eagerly. “I know I told your mum I'd be okay, but truthfully I don't know,” he admitted quietly. “She's right. I don't know if I will be okay or not. But I need to come home for you. I won't let you grow up without your father. Like I did. You have a mum that loves you, and your dad loves you too. But I need to get rid of these Death Eaters. They've been hiding for a very, very long time. And I've found them. It's the only way we can live without worrying that someone's going to show up here and A.K us all.”

James quietly suckled his bottle as his father kissed the top of his head. Soon, he had finished and Harry took the bottle away and placed it in the sink. He walked back upstairs, changed James's diaper again, and placed him back in his crib. Harry walked over to the small nightstand and removed the picture of him and Hermione from the frame and placed it under the clasp on the mobile. With one final glance at his son, he left the room. Hermione was still asleep. Sighing, he dropped his shorts and climbed into the bed. He moved closer to her and nuzzled his face in her neck, familiarizing himself with her heavenly scent.

x-x-x-x-x

The sun was beginning to rise when Harry awoke. He untangled himself from Hermione and slid out of their bed and made his way to their bathroom. He showered and shaved his face. He wasn't supposed to bring a lot with him. They were to keep a low profile. Hermione was stirring awake as he walked into the closet and dressed in a pair of jeans, trainers, a light cotton t-shirt and a heavy hooded sweater. He opened one of the doors and drew out a kitbag and threw in a few extra pairs of boxers, pants, sweaters, his parka, and hats. He cast a feather light charm on the bag and swung one of the straps over his shoulder, and brought the other underneath his other arm, and put a permanent sticking charm on the Velcro strap. He pulled a hat on his head and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked exactly like what he was supposed to; a field Auror. He didn't look like Harry Potter, father of three, who simply enjoyed being head of the Auror Department.

The International Ministry didn't give a damn about who he was, or if he had anything to live for. They cared about his skill level as an Auror. He was part of a team of elite Aurors from Europe, being sent to finish off twenty rogue Death Eaters. He didn't let on to Hermione the actual dangers of this mission. The Death Eaters they were dealing with were in Voldemort's inner circle, and very powerful.

Sighing, He walked over to the vanity with held various products. He opened a small plastic bag and pulled the hat off his head and laid it carelessly on top of his bureau and tied his shaggy mess of hair out of his face with tiny black elastics. He tiredly rubbed his face with his hands and pulled the hat back over his head. He turned to leave, and almost collided with Hermione, who was standing in the doorway, silently watching him.

“You look so much older than you actually are,” she whispered as he cradled her face in his hands. “I don't like it, it's not you.”

“I can't help it, Hermione.”

She ignored him. “You only had that expression once before … just before you went to fight him…”

“Hermione…” he said quietly, forcing her to look at him. “I'll be okay. But in the event something happens, promise me you won't sit around here waiting for me to come back.”

“Harry don't say that…” she said, her voice shaking.

“Promise me,” he said forcefully as held her wrists as she tried to throw her arms around his neck.

“I promise, Harry!” She yelled as he let go of her and pressed her mouth against his, forcing her tongue into his mouth, then tore away. “I promise you,” she cried, collapsing into his arms.

“I'm going to be fine,” he assured her, stroking her head. “I have to go,” he said finally.

“Can you owl?” she asked softly as he walked across the room to his nightstand and removed a picture of Hermione, James, Henry, and Sarah from its frame and folded it in half and slid it in his back pocket.

“No,” said Harry as he laid his hand on the cool doorknob. “It could get intercepted. I'm going to say goodbye to James. Then I have to leave for the Ministry. We're Portkeying to Santa Cruz at exactly eight,” he explained softly. “We'll be travelling to the outskirts of the city. There, there's an old Wizarding school. It's been abandoned for almost one hundred years. I can't tell you anymore than that,” he said in the same voice before stepping out into the corridor. He strode across the hall and swung open the door to the baby's room and bent down over the crib and picked up his sleeping son. Harry hugged the sleeping boy to his chest and breathed in his familiar baby scent and closed his eyes. Finally, Harry allowed Hermione to pull James from his arms and allowed her to give him one final kiss before he willed himself to draw away from her. With one final peck on the lips, Harry quickly exited the room and down into the sitting room, and dissaparated with a faint pop.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in one of the Ministry's Portkey rooms, with four other men who all bore the same sombre expression as he did.

“Ah, Harry. About time,” said Minister Bates in a falsely cheery voice as he clasped Harry on the back. He would have loved to shoot the man a death glare.

“My wife isn't exactly thrilled. She was reluctant with our son so young and all,” growled Harry as he moved away to the other side of the room.

Lyon Bates gulped as his top Auror moved away from him to join the other men.

“Well men, Welcome to England. I understand the severity of this mission, and I'll introduce you to Warren King, who is the representative for Great Briton in the House of Commons in the I.F,”

“Hello gentlemen,” welcomed Warren. None of the men said anything. “When I call your name and country, please approach the Portkey.” The Portkey itself was a mangy old woman's shoe.

“David Trenholm, Ireland. Jacob Windsor, England. Harry Potter, England. Fredrick Petra, France. And finally, Shawn Jenson, Ireland.”

One by one the men adjusted their packs on their backs and climbed to their feet and silently approached the shoe. The countdown began, and Harry positioned his finger on the dirty leather and he was gone in a whirl of wind and colour. They all skidded into a muddy patch on a hill just outside the city. Harry brushed his dust off his trousers and the five of them went through the less-formal introductions.

“Any ideas on how in the hell we're supposed to get to this castle they're supposedly in?” questioned Fred.

“No fucking clue,” responded Harry as they set off down the hill. “But I suggest we get a map to get the general idea of where the hell we're going, devise some sort of plan because the I.F came up with the brilliant plan of pinning five of us against twenty of them.”

“I agree with Potter,” said Shawn, and the others nodded in agreement. Within twenty minutes, they had bought a map of the city and its surrounding areas. They were presently sitting in a dingy pub that appeared most tourists seemed to avoid with the map spread out in front of them, with an extremely greasy breakfast on the way.

“So this castle, is supposed to be approximately a days drive outside the city,” began Jacob quietly, tracing the area with a skinny forefinger. “By a lake,” he continued, drawing out a muggle highlighter and highlighting potential lakes.

“To muggles, it would either be invisible, disguised as a dilapidated building, or is noticeable with a muggle-repelling charm on it,” added Dave.

Harry nodded as his eyes looked over the surrounding area. “It narrows down to approximately four places.”

“Five?” said Jacob pointing to a marked castle.

“They wouldn't put a magical institution on a muggle map, Jacob,” replied Harry calmly. “I think it would be wise to put on glamour charms until we're actually ready to enter the castle. We could go to Xenon, which is an all Wizarding community. Get books; learn anything we can about the old Cruz Academy, where its location is, how it's involved with the dark arts … Get some background knowledge before we go in there, wands raised.”

The men murmured their agreement.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry, Shawn, Jacob, Fredrick and David had quickly located Xenon. Once they were inside, they had instantly put glamour charms on themselves. If he were to walk in his own front door, Hermione would have hexed him. He had short, light brown hair and blue eyes. His scar was completely gone. They had checked in the small Wizarding hotel under different names than their own. Harry was simply known to the cheery barman as `Sirius Evans'. No one would suspect him as Harry Potter. To his surrounding witches and wizards, he was nothing but an English tourist, and he and his fellow Aurors played the part perfectly.

They had found a bookstore and quickly invaded their history section, and came across many books on the old Cruz Academy. Harry had mentioned it while the woman behind the counter rang in his purchases, and she visibly paled. He instantly knew Cruz Academy was a touchy subject for the magical Bolivian population. She was understandably suspicious of why five random men had suddenly taken interest in the old magical academy. Harry had told a smooth lie that he was recently hired at Hogwarts as the new History of Magic professor, and needed background information on some of the international schools. She had believed him, and even congratulated him on his posting.

Grindelwald. Dumbledore. Bolivia. It all made sense now. Harry's first-ever Chocolate Frog card came in handy yet again. Dumbledore had defeated the Dark Wizard Grindelwald, who was of Bolivian decent. He was the 1800's Voldemort. And Dumbledore had defeated him on the lawns of Cruz Academy of Magic. There had been bloodshed … death of students, staff, Aurors… Harry now fully understood why Cruz Academy had been abandoned. There were so many bad memories. The Magical Republic of Bolivia needed to start over. They refused to send their children to a place where so many of their friends and family had died. It was completely understandable.

Grindelwald had a fascination with the Dark Arts. He was of pureblood decent. It seemed only natural that he would stray away from his prudish upbringing and terrorise the Wizarding World. He was the Pureblood Voldemort.

Harry set the book on his nightstand and sighed. He missed Hermione very much. He longed to have her warm body next to his; assuring him everything would be okay. So badly he wanted to speak to her. It would be a mighty risk to venture out into the night, find a payphone and make a collect call under his false name. No one would suspect a thing but her. She knew who Sirius Evans would be. Her husband. A simple anagram of two people he loved. He prayed they wouldn't be long. James would wonder where his father was. He would be able to sense some anxiety with his mother with the absence of his father. He reached in his back pocket and removed the picture he had placed in there yesterday. He unfolded it to reveal his wife's smiling face as she spun their six-month-old son. The picture had been taken at the Weasley's just a week ago. James had always been a happy baby. He never gave them any trouble, to their relief. Harry missed him already, and he had only been gone a day. Harry flinched when the door opened to reveal David standing in the doorway.

“Think we're ready to go in tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

“As we'll ever be,” replied Harry, his eyes never leaving the photo.

“What're you staring at?” questioned David curiously as he walked to Harry's side. “Your family?”

“Wife, three kids,” replied Harry, handing it to him.

“Eldest two yours?”

“No,” replied Harry, “hers from a previous relationship. Henry and Sarah … the baby's mine. James.”

“Cute kids,” he commented as he handed Harry the picture. “I've got kids of my own as well… we all do.” David explained, reaching into his wallet and handed Harry a photo. “Keira, my wife, and our twins. John and Gregory.”

“Cute,” said Harry. “They really picked the good ones. I'm sure there's five pissed off women spread throughout Europe.”

“There is, I had to practically pry Keira off to make it to the Portkey.”

“Hermione was the same,” chortled Harry. “Her excuse was I haven't gone away in a year since I got the promotion…”

“What division of the Auror Department are you from?”

“Head of the Auror Department in England,” explained Harry. “You?”

“Assistant Head of the Irish Ministry.”

“What a colourful assembly we have here.”

“Indeed.”

“I guess we'll go over everything in the morning with the other three,” said Harry as he scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah. Night Harry.”

“Night David.”

Harry removed his shirt after he had locked the door. He dropped his jeans and placed the photo on his nightstand, leaning against the ancient oil lamp. Climbing into the cool sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry awoke to the alarm clock. He instinctively reached to his left side to slam off the alarm. Groaning, he moved back towards his right to wrap his arms around Hermione, but grabbed an arm full of sheets, and reality hit him. He wasn't at home. He was in Bolivia. Opening his eyes, he winced as the sun came in contact with his eyes. He finally willed himself out of the bed and into the bathroom. He came back out almost ten minutes later with a towel around his waist. He sloppily dressed himself in a pair of old jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt. Sticking his wand in his back pocket, he threw his sweater in his bag, and shrunk the books to the size of his thumbnail and threw them in the front pocket of his bag. He swung the bag over his shoulder and exited the room.

He met David in the hall and the pair silently walked downstairs into the pub to meet the rest of them. They greeted each other with tired `mornings' as they sipped their coffee in silence. They were silent for almost ten minutes before Harry brought up what was on all of their minds.

“Does everyone know where to dissaparate to?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” they all said in unison.

“We'll remove the glamour charms when we get there?” questioned Jacob.

“Yes,” said David as they stood up and walked towards the bar to return their keys. “If all goes well, we'll be home by sundown.”

“Wonderful,” said Jacob happily as they stood in a circle by the door and dissaparated with a loud crack.

Harry spun around to see a castle that looked like it indeed had been neglected for nearly a century. In the distance, he could see a sparkling lake. He exhaled as he pointed his wand at himself to remove the glamour charm and instantly reached up to swipe away his familiar raven curls out of his eyes. He joined the rest of the men as they crouched behind a ruined stonewall.

“I've just sent out an invisible spell to check for any traps,” whispered Shawn.

Harry nodded as a faint pink ball of light came towards Shawn and burnt out inches from his face.

“It's all clear.”

They carefully made their way up to the front gates and slid easily through without being detected. Finally, they were at the ancient doors. Harry took a deep breath as he and Jacob threw them open. They heard distant shouts. Harry drew out his wand and raced inside. Harry flattened himself against the wall as a jet of green light flew from above him. His chest heaving, he looked up and made eye contact with the same woman who brought an end to his godfather's life. Harry raised his wand arm and sent a disarming spell up towards her; she easily dodged it and laughed.

“It can't be,” she called down, her deep voice echoing off the stonewalls. “Little baby Harry's all grown up.”

“Thank you, Bella. It's a shame I can't say a nice thing for you,” he snarled as he shot a stunner at her.

“You always were a nasty boy. Just like your father.”

Harry ignored her as he glanced over his shoulder. The others had spread out and were involved in various duels. Harry held her gaze as he heard shouts of “WATCH OUT HARRY!” before all went black.

-->

8. Chapter 7

Hermione was a wreck. The Bolivian Ministry had released a statement saying they had recovered four unconscious men from the premises of an old Wizarding school almost a month ago. They had been transferred to St. Mungo's for emergency care. She hadn't let James out of her sight since. She had locked herself and the baby in the flat. She had put up anti-apparition wards and blocked the floo network. She had to build up her strength. She was going to march into the Ministry of Magic and demand to see the Minister. She needed to know what was going on. Harry's name hadn't been mentioned with the men who had been recovered.

From what she knew from the Prophet, they had indeed found the Death Eaters, and duelled with them before they eventually lost. The I.F was taking a lot of heat for sending only five Aurors after twenty death eaters. The Death Eaters had fled, taking Harry with them. The only thing they had recovered of Harry's was his backpack with its contents strewn over the lawn. They had it returned to Hermione, and she locked it in the storage room without looking at a thing.

She deserved to know what was going on with the investigation. She was going to make sure that Harry was going to come home alive. She needed him, James needed him. Finally, she showered, dressed herself in a dignified suit, and sent James to Molly without saying a word to the woman before she dissaparated to the Ministry.

“Mrs. Potter-”

“Any comments?”

“How are you dealing?”

“Was he really captured by Death Eaters?”

“Will You-Know-Who rise again?”

“Is Harry alive?”

Questions were shouted at her as she forcefully pushed the reporters out of her way as she stormed through the security checkpoint, leaving Eric the Security Guard bewildered. He was right not to disturb her; as he knew it was wrong to try and deal with an infuriated woman. She took the stairs instead of the lift before she was in the grand enterance to the Minister of Magic's office. His secretary looked up at her expectantly. Hermione said nothing as she walked past the woman and threw the door wide open, nearly knocking it off it's hinges. Lyon Bates looked up at her and paled instantly.

“Mrs. Potter,” he greeted.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“You need to calm-”

“I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! I DESERVE TO KNOW WHY MY HUSBAND DIDN'T TURN UP!”

“Mrs. Potter, please calm yourself,” he said seriously gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

“Where is he,” she repeated in a shaky voice. “It's been almost a month. He's not in St. Mungo's with the rest of them. He's not in Bolivia. I know he didn't take off. Where is he?”

“From what we've accounted from the others,” began Bates as Hermione lowered herself into the plush chair in front of his shiny oak desk, “is that Harry was hit with a spell from behind and was instantly taken away. Where, we don't know. But I promise you, Mrs. Potter, we're doing all we can to find him.”

Hermione let out a dry sob as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh Merlin…” she whimpered. “He promised…”

Bates gave her a sympathetic look.

“This is your fault,” she shouted, “he shouldn't have gone! Why couldn't you send someone else?”

“It wasn't my decision,” he explained helplessly.

“His son is only seven months old!” She shouted at him, “Harry's birthday's at the end of the month! We were supposed to go on a family vacation…” she whispered as she buried her face in her hands. “I won't let my son grow up without knowing his father,” she said in a deadly tone. “I want you to personally guarantee he's found alive.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry helplessly laid his head against the cool stone he had been staring at for what seemed like years. He had no idea where he was. He had woken up in a dungeon with anti-appearation wards and blocks to his wandless magic, hands bound, stripped of his wand. One of the Death eaters came twice a day with stale bread and left him with a bottomless goblet of water. Harry hardly touched any of them, and it was starting to take its toll on him. His health was deteriorating by the day. He didn't bother to speak or shout at them anymore. It was a waste of time. He had destroyed their master, and now they were slowly taking their vengeance on him. Keeping him in a cell somewhere with little to no contact would sooner or later drive him round the bend.

He often wondered why they were holding him. There was absolutely nothing left of Voldemort to try and resurrect him again. No spells, potions or enchantments could bring him back. Harry had personally made sure that was possible in the final battle. The smell of smouldering flesh had haunted him for weeks afterward. He pondered ransom. But what good would a pile of money be to a group of Death Eaters on the run? They must have a motive. If they wanted him dead, they would have done so by now.

Harry shivered as he drew his knees up to his chest as he heard footsteps echoing off the stone passageway. He closed his eyes and tried to picture Hermione's face.

“It's a side of you I've never seen before,” commented Bellatrix as the Iron Gate swung open and she walked inside and crouched down in front of him. She placed her hand on his cheek, causing him to recoil. She was as cold as ice. “If only they could see their hero now, pathetic, powerless, at our mercy.”

Harry said nothing.

“Do you have any idea where you are, Harry?” she asked in an oily voice, studying his face.

Silence.

“You're in Russia. They still believe you're in Bolivia. Your wife, the mudblood, must be hysterical.”

“Don't dare talk about her,” said Harry, his voice raspy.

“You have a son now, don't you?” she continued, grinning wickedly. “It seems he'll be growing up just like you. Without a father.”

“NO!” Harry shouted, using every ounce of strength he possessed, he lunged forward and tackled her to the ground.

Harry heard remote shouting, and then he was vigorously thrown against the wall and heard a distant cry of “CRUCIO!” The pain was excruciating. His body was weak, atrophied, and couldn't handle it. Another Crucio was fired at him, and he was unable to hold back a scream. His insides were on fire, and it was unbearable. He pleaded for the darkness to come as someone delivered a sharp kick to his ribcage, and soon, his prayers were answered.

x-x-x-x-x

There was shouting. He indistinctly heard it. He didn't mind any longer. He was waiting to welcome his bereavement with open arms. He knew a sack had been placed over his head so he couldn't see. He'd been staring at darkness for weeks. His mouth had been gagged. He hadn't drank or eaten in days. His body was slowly shutting down. He heard something that sounded like his name. Bellatrix had likely come back to taunt him some more. Perhaps it was Lucius again to fire a few more practice curses at him. Or McNair to break a few more of his bones.

He felt hands on his shoulders and desperately wanted to cry out in pain, but he was incapable of making any noise. It hurt him. Someone lifted him off the ground. He waited for the stonewall to come in contact, but it never came. He was becoming delirious. He was sick, and he knew it. He had been swallowing his own bile for days. The shouting was becoming louder. He let out a groan of protest. A rush of cold air hit him hard, and Harry instantly began shaking uncontrollably. Whatever had been covering his eyes had been removed and he cringed as the alluring sun came in contact with his eyes for the first time in weeks.

“Merlin, Harry?” came a vaguely decipherable voice. Harry rolled his eyes upward to the face that was speaking to him. It was a woman, with mousy brown hair and a heart shaped face. “Harry … Merlin…” whispered Tonks as she slowly removed the gag from his mouth and took the bindings off his hands and feet. She felt his forehead. “You need to get to St. Mungo's,” she said sympathetically as a band of medi-wizards encircled him. He soon fell into unconsciousness.

x-x-x-x-x

He was warm, comfy, and strangely satisfied. Someone was idly running their fingers through his hair, something he had always taken pleasure in. He must have died. There was no other explanation. Death wasn't that awful, he decided. He was no longer in pain. Wherever he was, he was comfortable, and he didn't have any intention on leaving anytime soon. Slowly he opened his eyes. Wherever he was, it was dark. He fully opened his eyes and glanced around. It was useless. He could hardly see a thing.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic, raspy groan. The fingers in his hair had stopped.

“Harry are you awake?” said a soft, comforting voice.

This had to be some sick vision planted in his head.

“Harry?” the voice repeated.

His vision was suddenly blinded as the lights in the room blazed on. He let out another groan and instantly shut his eyes.

“I'll go get his healer,” said another voice.

The hand had returned to his hair.

“Harry, love. It's okay.”

Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked upward and slowly focused on his wife. Her eyes were bloodshot. He wanted to reach up and touch her face, to make sure she was real, but he didn't possess the energy. He must be in St. Mungo's. Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him. He tore his eyes away from Hermione and gazed frantically around the room, chest heaving.

“Harry, calm down,” she whispered, stroking his face lovingly. Her hands were so soft. “No one's going to hurt you. You're safe. I promise. I love you.”

“Mrs. Potter, can you step away from your husband?” Came a brisk, female voice.

Hermione reluctantly left his side.

“Can you feel this?” she asked calmly, as she pressed her fingers slowly up his right leg.

He simply nodded.

“And this?” she repeated the same to his left. He nodded again. “Good. There's no paralysis.”

Harry stared. That was the least of his worries.

“Your left arm is in a splint. It was broken when you were brought here. We can only mend the bones, but you need to keep them straight in order for them to heal properly. That will be in place for another two weeks. Your midsection is bandaged, as you had several broken ribs. They were repaired easily, and again, you need to keep yourself straight as possible. You've lost an unhealthy amount of weight, and you're being given potions twice a day to help you get back to a healthy body weight for a man of your age and height. I'm sure you've discovered by now that you cannot speak. Don't be alarmed; your throat is incredibly dry. We have iced water here for you. Please don't try to make any sudden movements, as your body has been still for almost three weeks. Your muscles will need to get used to movement again. You will make a full recovery,” she explained seriously, and then her expression softened. “You're a very lucky man to be alive, Mr. Potter. I'll be back to check on you soon.”

Hermione instantly returned to his side and grasped his hand and smoothed his bangs off his forehead and kissed his scar. “I love you so much,” she whispered in his ear. “Do you want water?”

He nodded and attempted to slowly sit up. A jolt of pain shot up his back, causing him to inhale sharply. “Careful,” she said calmly as she slowly lifted the cool goblet to his lips. The water glided smoothly down his throat and into his stomach. The dryness he felt instantly left him as she set the glass on the stand by his bed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, reaching for her hand.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked worriedly as she slid onto the bed and carefully curled into his arms.

“I've had better days,” he replied softly. “Where's James?”

“He's at home with Alice,” she explained as he held her. “Would you like me to go get him?”

Harry shook his head and tightened his grip on her waist.

“I'm not leaving if you don't want me to,” she assured him, “You're safe now. They're all gone.”

“I'm so sorry,” he said finally. “I promised you…”

“It's not your fault, Harry. The I.F isn't too popular right now. Sending five of you against twenty of them wasn't a wise decision on their part… Don't concentrate on any of that. You need to get better so you can come home.”

“I'm sorry,” he repeated.

“Don't apologise. It's not your fault.” She said as she entwined their fingers together.

“How are Henry and Sarah?” he asked finally.

“They're fine. They were quite upset when you were reported missing … they've come here every day to see you. Sarah's drawn you pictures, I've posted them on the board,” she explained, pointing to the bulletin board on the wall directly in front of his bed. Harry smiled faintly. “She misses her daddy,” she added quietly.

“Ron-”

“Her other father.”

“Oh.”

“Are you alright with that?”

“Fantastic.”

“I shouldn't be making you talk so much … you're using one-worded sentences,” said Hermione apologetically.

Harry smiled. “It's okay. My throat just feels raspy…”

“How does everything else feel?”

“Fine as long as I don't move.” He paused for a few moments. “Better than what it was.”

“They said your body had taken a number of `Crucio's.'”

Harry remained silent.

“They found your wand, I have it at home.” She said finally.

He nodded.

“It's okay if you want to go to sleep,” said Hermione, kissing the side of his mouth.

“You look tired. Go home … there's dreamless sleep potion in the cabinet in our bathroom,” said Harry, “I'll be okay here.”

“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes.”

“I love you,” she whispered, smoothing his bangs off his forehead and kissing his brow before grabbing her coat and quietly left the room.

x-x-x-x-x

Two weeks later, Harry was permitted to return home, under the restrictions that he must report to his healer, Joyce Kennings, once a week for a month. He wasn't allowed to return to work until his ribs and arm were fully healed, and until he was declared in perfect health. This ended up putting him on a three-month leave, with full pay. Ever since he had woken up, Lyon Bates had been sending him owls, and Harry had sent every one of them back, unopened. Soon, he eventually got the message that Harry didn't want anything to do with him at the moment, and the letters stopped coming.

Hermione had brought the children every night after they had dinner while he was still in the hospital. He felt horrible after he first saw James. He had grown so much in the period of time Harry was gone. He wasn't used to Sarah and Henry addressing him as `dad'. It made him feel uncomfortable when they said it around Ron. But Ron had confessed that they had cautiously been calling Lavender `Mum'.

He was grateful for the day he was able to walk out of the hospital. The sun was shining bright. He side-along appearated with Hermione, Healer Kennings had strictly told him it wasn't going to be possible for a while. If he were going to be doing any travelling, he would have to side-along, floo, or travel by car.

To their surprise when they got out of their car, Peter Jennings met Harry and Hermione.

“Mr. And Mrs. Potter,” he acknowledged.

“Mr. Jennings.”

“Are you getting out of the hospital?” he asked, noticing the medical bracelet on Harry's wrist. He covered it instantly.

“Yes,” said Harry hastily. “Bad car accident on my way to work…”

“That would explain why we haven't seen you around for almost two months,” he said conversationally. “What is it you do?”

“Part of the division for National Security.” He said as Hermione cleared her throat.

“I hate to break this up, but the doctors ordered you rest, Harry…”

“I'm sorry for keeping you, I hope you're better soon,” said Jennings before he returned to his gardening. Hermione led her husband inside.

“National Security,” she joked once they were in the lift. “That's my favourite yet.”

“First thing that came to mind,” shrugged Harry.

Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek lovingly before lacing their fingers together. “I'm so happy you're home.”

“Me too,” he replied before giving her a chaste kiss before they walked into the small corridor and swung open the door to their flat.

“DADDY!” shouted Sarah as she ran through the sitting room and jumped into Harry's arms.

“Careful, Sarah,” warned Hermione as she hung up her jacket in the closet, “he's not all better yet.”

“Did I hurt you?” Sarah asked immediately.

Harry smiled. “No honey, you didn't. Just don't kick me in the ribs or grab my left arm.”

“Okay.” She said happily as she tightened her grip on his neck. “I missed you while you were away.” She whispered.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, kissing the side of her head and gently ran his fingers through his stepdaughters' hair. “I won't go away for that long ever again, I promise.”

“Good. Because you made mummy cry.”

“I didn't mean too.”

“I know. That's what I told her.”

“Good girl.” Said Harry, as he let her slid out of his arms.

“Hello, Harry,” said Alice. “Glad to see you're well again.” Alice was their nanny; she was a plump, middle-aged squib they employed to look after the kids three times a week so Molly could have some much needed time to herself. They had tried a muggle nanny, Marlene, but that didn't work out to well. Harry had to obliviate her and let her go. She swore they were all barking mad and had threatened to call child services on them because of the nonsense Henry and Sarah were supposedly talking about. And then, a friend of Hermione's had told them about Alice. Hermione had met with Alice first, then both Harry and Hermione, then the whole family. Henry and Sarah loved her immediately. She was the only person besides Harry, Hermione, and Molly to get James to stop crying. She was a godsend. Alice had worked for wealthy Wizarding families before, and understood that Harry and Hermione needed privacy. Alice had been with them ever since.

“Thank you, Alice. I hope they didn't give you much trouble,” said Harry as he lifted a sleeping James out of her arms. It was the first time he'd held his son since he left.

“They were understandably quiet. But I took them all to Hyde Park the other day. They absolutely loved it. James was fascinated by everything,” she laughed.

“I'm glad,” he said smiling as the baby stirred awake and looked expectantly up at his father.

“You don't mind me asking what happened, do you? I tried asking Hermione, but she broke into tears… The Prophet didn't even know…”

“I was one of five Aurors sent to Bolivia on order of the I.F to capture rogue Death Eaters … twenty Death Eaters, to be exact. A spell hit me from behind, and they knocked out everyone else and took me to Russia with them. I have no idea where in Russia… I just know I was there for a month before the place got raided by Aurors and they found me half dead,” he explained quietly as Henry entered the room.

“Half dead?” he asked Harry. “What's half dead?”

“The plant in the sitting room your mother waters only once a month,” he covered quickly as Alice stared at him horrified.

“Oh.”

“How are you?” he asked as Harry shifted James in his arm to give the seven-year-old a one-armed hug.

“I've been better, how're you?” he replied, ruffling his bright red hair.

“Good. I'm glad your home. The only other boy in this house can't even walk yet.” He said darkly as he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

“But he can lift his head, isn't that good enough?” asked Hermione as she entered the kitchen.

“No,” replied Henry as he followed Alice into the sitting room, leaving his parents and brother alone.

“They've missed you,” said Hermione quietly.

“I've missed them,” said Harry as he lifted James into the air and spun him, causing him to squeal with delight.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry uncorked the fourth and final vial of potion and quickly swallowed it. He put the tiny cork back inside of it, and it instantly refilled. Sighing, he placed it carefully in the cabinet above the sink and closed the door and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked horrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, revealing that he hadn't slept in days, which he hadn't. He was still unhealthily thin, but he was far better than what he was. Sighing, he turned away from the mirror and raked his fingers through his hair and opened the door to the bathroom and stepped into the dimly lit bedroom. Harry silently peeled off his jeans and t-shirt and quickly dressed in a pair of pyjama pants and a looser shirt. He didn't want her to see the scars that were scattered across his back and chest. Reminders of the curses that had been inflicted on him.

“Are you cold?” Asked Hermione. Harry spun around.

“No, I'm fine,” he answered quickly as his took in her barely concealed form. She was dressed in a tiny camisole and knickers.

“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly as she reached for the hem of his shirt. He visibly recoiled.

“Harry…” she whispered, reaching for his hand and laced their fingers together. “Let me see, please…”

“I don't want you to,” he replied sharply, pulling away from her.

“I want to,” she shot back, as she closed the door to the closet, and turned around to face him. She said nothing as she strode towards him and pushed his grey t-shirt up over his head and threw it to the ground. Her eyebrows narrowed as her fingers lightly traced the barely noticeable mark under his navel. Hermione could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to meet his gaze as she walked around him and ran her fingers agonisingly slow down his back before wrapping her arms around his waist and smoothed his hair off his neck and pressed a kiss to the pulse point. Harry removed her arms from his torso and pulled her into his arms and stared at her. She reached up and gently stroked his smooth cheek with her thumb as he lowered his head towards hers. His chapped lips quickly came in contact with hers, and pulled her body flush against his. Soon, the world faded around them as their tongues came into a familiar dance, something that seemed long forgotten. He pressed her against the wall as she threw her top across the room. He groaned as her bare breasts came in contact with his skin. Hermione forced his trousers and boxers down his legs and he stepped out of them, kicking them out of sight. Harry lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs instinctively around his waist and instantly pushed himself inside of her.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry was asleep with his head on her breast. She hadn't been able to sleep. She felt complete, whole again. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Her husband was okay! He was alive and well. She also felt guilty. Harry wasn't supposed to do anything that could drain him of energy. Harry wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; he tired out easily. Here he was, a day out of the hospital, and had just possibly put every ounce of energy he possessed into making love to her. She shouldn't have forced him to show her his scars. She should have respected his wishes, and gone to bed.

Hermione removed her fingers from his hair and sighed. Harry coughed in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes. Yawning, he looked up at her and smiled lazily. He shifted his position and laid his head beside hers on the pillow.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing her messy hair out of her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said flatly, not meeting his gaze.

“For what?” said Harry, propping his head up on his hand, his elbow sinking into the pillow.

“I shouldn't have made you have sex … your energy…”

To her surprise, Harry laughed. “If anything, Hermione, that gave me more energy. Don't beat yourself up over it, really. Trust me; if I knew I couldn't go on, I would have stopped.”

“Are you sure?” she asked as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Positive,” said Harry reassuringly as she snuggled into his embrace. “Frankly, I'm surprised you wanted to … I look like shit, I don't know how any woman can find this good-looking.”

It was her turn to laugh. “You're too dramatic.”

“I am not!” he protested. “My eyes have got circles-”

“That are barely noticeable-”

“-My ribs are sticking out-”

“-You've always been too thin anyway-”

“-I'm covered in scars from Crucio-”

“-They'll be gone soon.” She interrupted. She forced him on his back and slowly slid her body on top of his. “You fuss over your appearance too much,” she whispered as she kissed his neck.

“I never cared before now.”

“I know … whether you believe it or not, you've always been very attractive.”

Harry let out a half laugh, half groan as her hand slid between their bodies and grasped him.

“I've always noticed it, too,” she whispered in his ear as her fingers ran over his tip. “I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it…”

Harry bucked his hips against hers.

“I've always thought you were beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, “but Merlin knows Ron would have had my head if I had mentioned it in front of him…”

“You've told me when he wasn't around,” she pointed out.

“And I would have loved to have thrown you on a desk and had my way with you when he wasn't around,” he said as he ran his hands over her backside.

“I wouldn't have minded.”

“I'm sure your boyfriend would have.”

“He wouldn't have to know,” she replied as he slid inside of her. “Perhaps you and I having an affair would have made you stay.”

“It would have made me leave sooner,” he admitted as he thrusted in and out of her. “Sleeping with another man's girlfriend … my best mate's girlfriend would have eventually eaten me up inside…”

“What would you have done if I had came to visit you in Australia?” she asked as he spilled his seed inside of her. He collapsed on the bed beside her, breathing erratically on her neck.

“No idea,” he responded breathlessly. “Invited you in for tea, I suppose.”

“And then?” she asked quietly as he buried his face in her neck.

“Showed you around the city, taken you out to dinner … avoided talking about anything going on here at all costs.”

“Why?”

“Because it hurt.”

Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to his sweaty forehead as he held on to her. “What if I had come into your room in the middle of the night?”

“I would have made love to you,” he admitted. “I would have at any time. I always knew it was wrong. It's not like you would have gone running back to Ron shouting `I made love to Harry!'”

“Do you miss it?” she asked finally.

“Miss what?”

“Australia.”

Harry sighed and kissed her lightly. “Sometimes.”

“I'm surprised you haven't mentioned going back. You must have had a life there.”

“I did,” he said quietly. “I was thinking about going back… You, James, Henry, Sarah, and I… It's so beautiful there, it really is…”

“Ron's taking them to Wiltshire with him and Lavender to Lavender's parents,” she explained, “maybe you, James, and I can go… We can take the whole brood another time.”

“Are you sure?”

“We'll talk in the morning.”

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione woke up to a steady knocking sound. Groaning, she buried her face deeper in Harry's chest.

“What's going on?” he asked groggily.

“MUM! DAD! THERE'S SOME MAN AT THE DOOR!” Shouted Henry.

Harry exhaled as she pulled away from him and quickly pulled on her robe as Harry slowly rose from the bed. He visibly cringed as he sat up. Her heart went out to him as she tied the knot at her waist and walked out the door. She ran a hand through her tangled hair as she strode across the dark sitting room. She flicked on the lights and undid the locks on the door. Without glancing through the hole, she swung the door open and stared into the face of Harry's serious looking boss.

“Minister Bates,” she said coolly as she stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

“Mrs. Potter,” he replied kindly. “Is Harry up for a chat?”

“He was just getting up.” She said simply. “I'll let him know you're here. Make yourself at home.”

Lyon Bates nodded as he sat down on the over-stuffed leather couch as Hermione disappeared from the room.

She met Harry at the top of the stairs as he emerged from James's room, fully dressed, firmly holding the struggling baby.

“He's hungry,” he laughed.

“Lyon Bates is here,” she said bluntly.

Harry stared. “You're joking.”

“No,” she said, taking James from him and smoothed out his thin, messy black hair. “Lets go get you something to eat,” she whispered, turning away from her husband and disappeared down the stairs. Harry pulled the sleeve of his sweater over the bandage covering his forearm and slowly descended down the stairs. He cleared his throat as he reached the bottom.

Bates took in his Auror's appearance. Harry without a doubt did look different from the last time he saw him. His sweatshirt and jeans hung on his limp figure, his eyes had barely visible dark circles, and he could see the medical wrap poking out from under his left sleeve. He had obviously tried to cover it. Harry averted his eyes as he slowly entered the sitting room and sat down across from the Minister of Magic.

“Lovely home you have here,” said Bates finally.

“Thank you,” said Harry simply.

“How are you feeling?”

“As well as to be expected, thank you,” he said politely.

“I came here to apologise on behalf of the I.F,” he said seriously. “They're paying for all your medical costs, and giving you a three thousand pound medical bonus.”

“I don't want it. Tell them to donate it to St. Mungo's,” said Harry bitterly. “They could pay for everything in the world for me for the rest of my life and it wouldn't change a thing. I was unwillingly away from my family for nearly two months, in a coma for almost three weeks, because they thought five Aurors could take out twenty highly intelligent Death Eaters. Those were two precious months of my infant son's life I wasn't there for. I was half dead when they found me, Bates. I nearly died because of them. I have three children, two may biologically may not be mine, but it doesn't matter, I love them, I'm their father, and because the I.F can't fucking think-”

“Mr. Bates, I think it's best if you leave,” said Hermione seriously as she entered the room and grabbed Harry's arm, silencing him. “The Healers of St. Mungo's strongly agreed that Harry isn't to be put under any stress that could interfere with his recovery.”

A glass vase on the shelf behind the Minister exploded. His eyes grew wide and fearful as he stuttered a “good day” to them before quickly exiting their flat. Hermione comfortingly ran her hands up and down his arms as he stared at the closed white door. Henry and Sarah cautiously entered the room.

“Is everything okay?” asked Henry.

“Yes sweetheart. There's puffed rice on the table, we'll join you in a moment,” said Hermione confidently.

“Okay mum,” said Sarah brightly as she grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him into the kitchen. “MUM! JAMES'S WEARING HIS CEREAL!”

Hermione half smiled as Harry took her in his arms and kissed her head. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied.

“I understand you're angry, but you can't take it out on the Minister for Magic … or blow up the vase mum gave us for our wedding present,” she said softly, causing him to tense.

“I wasn't ready to see him … the anger I've been experiencing for months now… Seeing him just made it worse,” Harry explained helplessly. “I don't want to see or speak to anyone from the. I.F. I just want to get better, and get back to work…”

“I know, love.” She said as they walked into the kitchen.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry had taken James out for the day. Henry and Sarah were with their father, and Hermione had gone on a well-deserved spa trip with some of the girls they had gone to Hogwarts with. This left Harry alone with their seven-month-old son. He decided to take him to Surrey, as there was some sort of festival going on there. He doubted he would be recognised. The worse that could happen is that he could run into his aunt or uncle. And the chances of that happening were incredibly thin.

A month ago, he had finally been declared to be in perfect health. His bones were mended, he had gained back the necessary weight, and almost all of the scars had disappeared off his torso. Thankfully, he would be returning to his job at the Ministry on September 1st. As much as he liked spending time off work to be home with his family, he was starting to miss the chaos of the Ministry of Magic. He still hadn't accepted any mail from Minister Bates. He had only opened one piece of mail from the I.F, the note simply stating that his request of his medical coverage be donated anonymously to St. Mungo's had been fulfilled. That was the only thing he needed to know and cared about from the I.F.

And so Harry dressed his growing boy in a comfortable pair of trousers and shirt. He placed a ball cap on his head and put on his tiny sneakers. Harry thought they were pointless because James was far too young to walk; Hermione thought they looked adorable. Harry had stated this when Hermione arrived home with them three weeks ago, and quickly learned not to argue with his wife when it came to what she bought for their son to wear. Harry had carefully strapped James comfortably into his car seat and put the diaper bag in the trunk, and drove out of London. He had told Hermione if she needed him he would have his mobile on him.

It was well after noon when Harry paid for an over-priced parking spot on a strip of grass. Harry quickly shoved his car keys in the pocket of his jeans and climbed out of the car. He swung open the backdoor and extracted his son from the backseat. James let of a cry of delight as his father secured him in his arms. Harry smiled as he straightened out the hat on his son's head and closed the door. With his free hand, he drew out his key chain and pressed the button to lock the doors and activate the alarm. He slid the keys back into his pocket and hitched his son securely to his side and lowered his sunglasses over his eyes. Fascinated with his father's sudden change in appearance, James reached up and attempted to snatch the aviators off his fathers face. Harry laughed and took them off and James took them in his chubby hands as Harry entered the grounds. The place was crawling with families. He would blend in easily. Harry stopped and stared at the large map of the grounds. He looked at James expectantly, but found he was still preoccupied with his sunglasses.

Harry smiled as he headed towards the animal barn. With the new sights and sounds, Harry's sunglasses had long been forgotten. He put them back on the top of his head as James watched everything and everyone they passed.

“Your mother would kill me if she knew I took you here without her,” he whispered.

Since Hermione was muggleborn, she believed that all of her children should be brought up knowing about both sides. Thus, with Henry and Sarah, were brought up with muggle children's toys, as well as Wizarding ones, and she repeated this process with James. Having being brought up the muggle way himself, Harry agreed with her. And so Hermione came home from work one day with a plastic farmhouse filled with plastic men and animals for their then five-month-old. Harry wasn't around when the farmhouse first came into the child's possession, but he had seen him with it, and appeared to have taken a liking to horses.

As soon as he entered the barn, the smell hit him like a tidal wave. It was definitely something he would have to get used to. Harry scanned the room quickly before approaching a stall containing a broad Arabian mare that was lazily chewing on hay. Harry shifted his son in his arms. “James, look,” he said softly. The toddler's eyes visibly lit up as he reached out to touch her. Harry lightly grasped his tiny hand and slowly lowered it to the horse's chestnut mane. “Careful,” he whispered, smiling slightly as he heard several twittering women behind him saying, “look how adorable that is.” If only they knew whose child they were looking at, thought Harry. James was almost eight months old, and the only photograph that the Daily Prophet managed to get of him was four months ago. They were furious because they hadn't been able to get a picture of his face because Harry had put up the hood on James's jacket over his head and covered everything else with his hand as he briskly walked through Diagon Ally, ignoring the whispers and stares. The only thing they saw of Harry Potters only son was a pair of blue pants, jacket, and booties.

“Harry Potter? Is that you?” said a vaguely recognisable female voice.

Harry looked up to come face to face with an elderly woman. “Mrs. Peters?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes! I'm surprised you remembered.” She said happily. Mrs. Peters lived next to the Dursleys. She was constantly talked about on Privet Drive because of the problems she and her husband had with their daughter.

Harry chuckled nervously.

“I was wondering what had happened to you, I haven't seen you since you moved out of Vernon and Petunia's. That was nearly eleven years ago,” she continued.

“I left after I turned seventeen, I stayed with a friend from the school … he lived closer to it than my aunt and uncle.”

“I never understood why they sent you to St. Brutus's. You were always a polite boy…”

“I smoked,” he lied, “vandalised the park … things like that…”

“I see,” she said, looking him over. “What is it you do now?”

“I work for National Defence in London,” he explained. “I'm head of a team of investigators.”

“You've really turned your life around,” said Mrs. Peters proudly.

“I guess so.”

“Is this your son?”

“Yes. James,” he explained looking down at him.

“His eyes are as green as yours,” she commented.

“His mother says that constantly,” he laughed.

“Married?”

“Married with two step-children,” he said happily. “Another boy, he's seven, and a girl, she recently turned five.”

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“We do.”

“Have you stopped by the baking tent and visited your aunt?” she asked.

Harry shook his head, “I had no idea she was here. Is Vernon as well?”

“Heavens no. That man wouldn't last ten minutes.”

“I see … I should go see her before she leaves…”

“Take care, Harry.” She said fondly before exiting the barn.

Harry exhaled as he walked the opposite way. Never in his life had he met a woman who could talk as much as Aggie Peters. He glanced down at James, who appeared to be quite content in his father's arms. Sighing, Harry kissed the top of his tiny head and hugged him to his body. He quickly located the tent Mrs. Peters had told him about. He made his way toward it and lowered his eyes to the ground. There was no turning back now. He looked up as he entered and saw Petunia Dursley chatting cheerfully with a blonde-haired woman. She suddenly stopped talking as she caught sight of her nephew. He saw her eyes fall down to the baby in his arms. Harry looked away uneasily as he entered the tent. He stalled at one of the tables and purchased a loaf of freshly baked bread and muffins, something he knew Hermione would enjoy. Harry kindly thanked the woman and smiled as she admired the baby. Harry straightened up and turned around. Again, he caught Petunia starring at him. Harry boldly made his way towards her.

“Hello Harry,” she acknowledged awkwardly.

“Aunt Petunia,” he replied. “How are you?”

“I'm doing fine, thank you. Yourself?”

“Never better,” he responded.

“Is this…?” she asked, gesturing towards James.

“Yes,” he replied, hitching him further up his side. “James.”

“May I?” she asked.

Harry hesitated.

“I promise I won't hurt him,” she reassured.

Harry carefully handed his aunt her great-nephew. She cooed softly to him as he looked up at her curiously. “I'm sorry if he gets squirmy … he's really jumpy…”

“He's perfect,” said Petunia. “How is your fiancé?”

Harry held up his left hand. “We eloped shortly after James was born … We had him when we were on vacation,” he explained, “Hermione told me of the plan she had … I'm terribly sorry we didn't tell you … we kept it to ourselves for a while … everything has been so chaotic for the past six months.”

“I understand,” she said knowingly. “What is his full name?”

“James Noah Potter. He was born on December 6th.”

“I see.”

There was a pregnant pause between them.

“So … how is everyone?” he asked ineptly.

“Vernon retired this year. Dudley took over at Grunnings,” she said fondly.

“Is he married?”

“No.”

Harry nodded as he looked at his watch. “I've got to get home for four,” he said finally, “Ron's dropping off Henry and Sarah. If you want to have dinner at our house … you're more than welcome.”

“Where is it you live?”

“Queens Gate Gardens. Kensington,” he explained as he wrote down their address and phone number, along with his mobile number. “It's an entirely normal flat. The only thing odd in it is the people who live there,” he laughed as he handed her the paper and carefully took James back into his arms.

“Don't you need a diaper bag?” she asked.

Harry smiled. “He has `special' diapers. A godsend, really. We change them once a day.”

Petunia frowned.

“We use regular ones around the house … but if we take him out, we just put him in one of these … so much easier,” he explained.

“I see,” she said as James squirmed in his father's arms.

“He's getting hungry … I've really got to go, feel free to call any of those numbers. Someone will pick up,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Harry was sure it was the first genuine smile she had ever given him.

-->

9. Chapter 8

Harry parked the car across the street from Diagon Ally. He didn't want to go in there with James, but Hermione wanted him to get a book from Flourish and Blotts for her. He wanted to be in and out of there as quickly as possible. Pulling his son closer, Harry slipped into the dingy Leaky Cauldron. He kept his head down as he wove his way between the tables towards the back where the magical entrance was. He could feel every pair of eyes in the bar on his back as he kept the baby's face hidden behind his hand.

Harry went through the all-to-familiar process of brick tapping before stepping into the sun lit ally. He quickly made his way towards Flourish and Blotts. The bell jingled when he entered and the owner looked up and smiled as Harry made his way towards the cash.

“Can I help you, Mr. Potter?” he asked kindly.

“My wife has a book here she ordered?” said Harry, shifting his son in his arms.

“Ah yes, I'll go get it out of the back room. It was awfully hard to locate…” he muttered before disappearing behind a stack of books and through a doorway marked `employees only'. James successfully removed the hat off his head and dropped it to the floor. Harry bent down and retrieved it off the ground and jammed it into his back pocket as the man returned with the book.

“Thank you,” said Harry moving to remove his wallet from his back pocket.

“It's already been paid for,” said the manager.

“Alright,” replied Harry and he took the bag and exited the shop. Harry smiled slightly as James looked around, engrossed in his surroundings. Harry held him tighter as he caught several bystanders pointing at them. Harry gently placed his hand on the boy's small head to shield his face as he picked up the pace and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry had just put a sleeping James into his cot when he heard someone stumbling in through the grate. He peered over the railing to see Ron standing in the sitting room with Henry and Sarah.

“I'll be down in a second,” he called out the door. Harry directed his attention back towards the baby. He laid a light blue blanket over him, kissed his head, and exited the bedroom. Harry slowly walked down the stairs and picked up Sarah mid run.

“Did you have fun today?” he asked her as he walked into the sitting room.

“Yes!” she said happily. “Daddy took us to the Eye. It was pretty.”

“Hey mate,” said Ron as he and Henry played a game of Exploding Snap.

“Hey,” replied Harry.

“Where's Hermione?”

“Merlin knows. She went with Lavender, Parvati and Padma to some spa.”

“I'm afraid to know what they were talking about there,” stated Ron.

Harry chuckled as the front door swung open, revealing his wife. Sarah jumped out of his arms and instantly went into her mothers. Hermione smiled lovingly as she hugged her daughter tightly and kissed the side of her head.

“Did you have a good day, honey?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Sarah.

“Wonderful.”

“I love you,” said Sarah brightly before she jumped out of her arms and disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe and watched her as she sat on the couch and chatted happily with Ron and Henry, sharing an occasional glance with him. Shaking his head, Harry disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she slipped in soundlessly. Hermione flew into her husbands waiting arms and relaxed as he embraced her.

“How was your day?” he asked softly.

“It was very relaxing,” she said, “though the masseuse's hands weren't as `clever' as yours.”

Harry laughed as his hands lazily trailed down her back and cupped her bottom. “I'll make up for the damage he did later,” he whispered in her ear.

“I'll hold you to that,” she whispered back, letting her teeth graze his ear before she pulled away, grinning wickedly. “How was James?”

“He was amazing,” said Harry thankfully as he slid on top of one of the bar stools. “I took him to a farm exhibition in Surrey… I know he can't register what exactly went on, but there were horses there … the way he was acting, I've never seen him smile so much…”

“I wish I could have seen it,” she sighed.

“I knew you'd say that,” he mumbled, “but I brought you home bread and muffins…”

Hermione half smiled and kissed his cheek lovingly. “Thank you,” she said.

“I ran into my aunt,” he said quietly.

“Oh?”

“I-I think it's okay between us now, I think. I don't think it will ever be between Vernon, Dudley and I, but with her, it's different … I know mum would have wanted it. But we talked; she held the baby … thought he was beautiful… I told her if she wanted to have dinner here she could … she has our number and address.”

Hermione smiled. “That's wonderful, Harry. It really is.”

“It took twenty six years… But I guess you're right,” he sighed, pulling her onto his lap and kissed her neck.

“You two never stop, do you?” said Ron from the doorway.

“It's not our fault you tend to walk in every time I kiss my husband,” Hermione retorted.

Ron shook his head, “I'm taking off. Henry went upstairs to take a nap, and Sarah's colouring in the sitting room.”

“Alright, see you at dinner on Sunday,” said Harry.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione had finally gotten Sarah to go to bed. She wanted to stay up and play, but Hermione wouldn't allow it. It was already well past her bedtime. Three storybooks later, Sarah had finally fallen asleep.

She gently closed the door to her daughter's bedroom and headed up another flight of stairs, where Harry was waiting for her, holding a glass of wine. Smiling, she removed it from his light grasp and planted an innocent kiss to his lips. Harry smiled as he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into their bedroom and closed the door.

“It's too early to go to bed,” she murmured.

“Who said we were going to bed?” he replied as set his glass down on one of the tables and picked her up.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, laughing.

He grinned as he carried her towards the bathroom and kicked open the door. Hermione gasped. The lights had been turned off, and the room was faintly scented of flowers from the various candles burning; the bathtub had been filled and had a bottle of wine resting on the edge.

Harry gently set her down and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione set the crystal wine glass down and wove her arms around his neck and as he worked on the buttons on her blouse. She shrugged the loose black fabric off her shoulders and cupped him through his jeans, causing him to groan. Harry quickly removed her bra and she pushed him against the wall and forced his t-shirt over his head. Harry stared at her wide-eyed as she undid his belt and jeans. He stepped out of them and she quickly removed her skirt and knickers and stepped in front of him. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she pushed him back against the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of him. She slowly pressed kissed down his toned body and slowly got on her knees.

“Hermione-”

“Shut up, Harry,” she growled.

Harry swallowed his saliva and closed his eyes as she grasped him. He could feel her hot, panting breath on his throbbing erection-

“Mummy? Daddy?” Sarah called.

Harry groaned and banged his head against the wall. “Shit, shit, shit…” he cursed as he quickly pulled on his boxers and jeans as Hermione dressed herself. Harry ran a hand through his hair and tried to get the picture of his naked wife on her knees in front of him out of his head as he threw open the bathroom door.

“Sarah, darling, what's wrong?” he asked softly as he pulled her into his arms.

She sniffed loudly. “I had a bad dream,” she wined as he picked her up and gently cradled her head as she sobbed into his chest. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and gently rocked her and kissed her head.

“It's okay sweetheart,” he whispered soothingly into her hair as she held onto him. “What was it about?”

“I don't know who he was, but he was trying to hurt everyone,” she whispered as she curled into his chest. “He was tall, dark, and scary.”

“It was only a dream,” whispered Hermione as she joined their side, looking highly dishevelled. Harry looked up and held her gaze. She shook her head at him, and he looked away and exhaled. He pressed a soft kiss to the little girl's forehead.

“It's okay, Sarah. I guarantee you,” he whispered as she held on tighter to him.

“Promise?” she demanded as she wiped her nose.

“I swear on my life, Sarah,” Harry said seriously. “C'mon, I'll tuck you back in…”

“Okay,” she said as Harry stood up and silently exited his bedroom. He gently laid his sleepy stepdaughter on her bed and covered her with her pink blankets and gave her her stuffed bear.

“Night, daddy,” she said sleepily as Harry gently stroked her hair.

“Night, love.” He whispered. Minutes later, she was asleep.

Harry quietly left her room and slipped back into his own. He closed the door and locked it securely before turning around.

“Is she asleep?” called Hermione from the bathroom.

“Yes, she went fairly quickly,” he replied as he pushed open the door and smiled. “Though I am a bit upset at her timing…”

“I'm afraid that ship has sailed, Mr. Potter,” said Hermione as they removed their clothing.

Harry groaned, “Do you have any idea-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” she warned.

Harry said nothing as he forcefully pulled her into his arms. Hermione gasped as he stared down at her. Never breaking their eye contact, she lazily dragged her fingernails up his back and tangled her fingers in his shaggy hair. Harry cupped her soft face in his hands and gently rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs before he captured her mouth with his. He loved the way her velvety tongue felt warm and inviting against his; he also enjoyed the things she did with it … things he was sure had always been reserved for him. She broke their kiss and pressed her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing his nose.

He said nothing as he pulled her towards the tub. She slowly climbed inside the warm water and pulled him in. Harry stumbled in surprise and nearly fell, causing her to laugh. Hermione settled herself into his arms and closed her eyes as he gently massaged her shoulders.

“This is nice,” she commented.

“Mmm. No screaming babies, sticky five year olds, and no rebellious seven year olds…” said Harry softly as he kissed her shoulder, “I love them to death but sometimes the noise is so overwhelming.”

“I know,” she agreed, moaning slightly.

“It's lovely to have some time to ourselves once in a while … I refuse to let us become one of those couples who sleep in different beds by the time they're eighty…”

Hermione laughed an arched her back. “With hands like those … you're not going anywhere any time soon.”

“That's why you're keeping me around isn't it?” he demanded playfully as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “just because I have good hands?”

“Yes,” she joked back, “among other things. I still don't understand why you pined for an old nag for twelve or so years.”

“Well,” began Harry as she leaned back into his chest, “the nag is kind, beautiful, one hell of a tease, an amazing mother … she's got a fantastic body, if I might add … I can put up with an occasional nag if I can have every thing else…”

“That's one lucky nag,” said Hermione as he tilted her head up towards his.

“She's one hell of a woman,” he whispered as he kissed her passionately.

Hermione stood up and stepped out of the water and helped her husband up. He stepped out and pulled her wet body flush against his and kissed her lovingly.

“Harry you're soaked,” she giggled as she threw her arms around his neck.

“You're wetter than me,” he whispered as his hands freely roamed her body, “in more ways than one.”

“I should slap you for that,” she accused, but gasped as he slid his finger inside of her.

“You were saying,” he continued as she slumped against him.

A strangled moan escaped her lips as she clung to his neck while he slid another finger inside and continued his ministrations.

Harry kissed the side of her head. “That's what I thought,” he whispered and withdrew his fingers as she came.

“Why do you do that?” she panted as they tumbled backwards on their bed.

“Because I like what it does to you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck.

“What would that be?”

“Well,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her collarbone, “you don't question me as much, and I'm pretty much free to ravish you.”

“I wish the world knew what you were like behind closed doors,” whispered Hermione as she cupped his sweaty face in her hands and kissed him.

Harry laughed and returned her kiss. “I'm assuming it'd be best not to piss you off then,” he said as he positioned himself at her entrance, “because I'd have to go into hiding when `Harry Potter: Exposed” hits shelves.”

“Shut up,” she groaned, bucking her hips against his.

Harry said nothing as he ran his hand down her smooth thigh and lightly gripped her hip as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Hermione gripped his shoulders and locked eyes with him. He gave her a faint smile as he moved in and out of her.

His orgasm hit him hard. Moaning, he collapsed on top of her, breathing unevenly against her neck. She came again soon after him. Panting, Hermione drew the blankets over their naked bodies whilst Harry removed himself from her She wrapped her arms around his head and held him close to her breast. Finally, his breathing became even.

Hermione looked down and saw that he had fallen asleep. She slowly shifted her position so she was in his arms. Brushing his sweaty fringe off his forehead, she reached up and lightly traced the infamous scar on his forehead. Thinking back, she was the first time she had ever touched it. Harry had always had a fringe to hide it; and she never really took notice of it after they met on the train almost eighteen years ago.

Moments later, she drew her fingers away.

“Don't stop,” he whispered, opening his eyes.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said immediately, “I didn't mean to-”

“It's okay,” he assured, “it's just … no one's ever touched me there before…”

“Why?” she asked as she moved into his arms, her breasts pressed intimately against his chest.

“I don't know,” he replied honestly, “I suppose it's because it's a former connection to Voldemort. I wouldn't want to touch it either … I'd rather it not be there, but that's when the glamour charm comes in handy…”

A loud whistle, signalling James had woken, broke their silence. Groaning, Harry pulled out of her embrace and kissed her cheek. “I'll get him,” he whispered.

“Bring him in here,” she whispered back, returning his kiss.

Harry nodded before he stepped into his discarded shorts and walked across the hall and pushed open the door. Yawning, he turned on the light and walked over to the crib. He looked down at his son, who reached towards him. Smiling, Harry bent forward and picked him up. He carried him over to the changing table and quickly changed his diaper and vanished it with an `Evanesco'.

Harry held his son to his chest as he silently crossed the hall. James's tiny face lit up at the sight of his mother. Beaming, Hermione lifted him out of Harry's arms and into her own as Harry slid into the bed beside them.

“I never thought we'd be like this,” she whispered. “You, our baby, and I. Together as a family.”

“I know,” agreed Harry. “I still can't believe everything's gone this smoothly.”

Hermione nodded knowingly. “I can't help but wonder,” she said softly. “I just have this feeling…”

Harry wove his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek lovingly. “Everything's fine, Hermione. We'll be okay.”

x-x-x-x-x

The remainder of the year flew by without incident. Harry and Hermione's plans of going to Australia fell through as Harry was forced to return to work at the beginning of September. He was graciously welcomed back with open arms, as many of the aurors would later admit to him that his replacement wasn't as nearly effective as he was. They were glad to have him back.

James's first birthday came and went with Christmas, and with it came his first steps, and word (mama). He was Harry's pride and joy, and James knew it. Nothing made his day like running as fast as he could on his chubby little legs towards his father when he came home from work every night.

Lavender had left Ron. Why, no one was quite sure on, but it was quite spontaneous and shocking. Ron didn't show his face around work, Henry, or Sarah for weeks. Everyone was starting to worry about him, as he hadn't left the flat that he and Lavender had shared for weeks. It was mid-February when Hermione decided to pay him a visit.

She had bundled herself up in her winter coat, scarf, and mittens and dissaparated across London. She had only set foot in the flat perhaps three times in the span that Ron and Lavender lived there. It was normally Ron who brought Henry and Sarah home; never she or Harry had to get them.

In the past several months, Ron had been worrying her. She had never voiced her thoughts to Harry, as she knew he would investigate into it, and she didn't want to pry into Ron's personal life. But since Harry's `incident' in Bolivia, Ron had been coming around less and less. He used to be there every week for Henry and Sarah. They lived with him every second week for months following their divorce. But it started changing. Ron was making up excuses, saying that he had to go away with Lavender to meet her parents, or he was getting called away for business meetings. It seemed he was avoiding her, Harry, and their children. He had even gone as far as not showing up for Sunday dinners at his mothers.

Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold when she entered the building. She climbed the stairs and quickly located the staircase that led up to the small landing. The sound of her heels clinking off the shiny oak stairs echoed off the walls as she walked towards the door with a brass `4' on it. Sweeping her disarrayed curls out of her eyes, she knocked loudly on the door. There was shuffling on the other side of the door, then the faint sound of the locks clicking. Finally the door swung open to reveal a very tired looking Ron.

“Hermione,” he said warmly as he instantly enveloped her into an uncomfortable hug.

She tensed. “How are you, Ron?” she asked as she gently pushed him off of her.

“Wonderful. You're here,” he said brightly beckoning her inside.

Hermione said nothing as she flicked on the light switch and gazed around the untidy flat. She allowed Ron to take her jacket from her and hang it up in the closet as she moved away from him.

“When was the last time you cleaned this place?” she asked quietly.

“Never. Lavender always cleaned.” He responded. “Do you want tea?”

“No,” she replied as he sank down into the armchair.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered finally. “I didn't think it would go that far with her. I always loved you.”

Hermione blinked. “Ron…”

“No, no…” he said as he gazed at her intently, “I want it to go back to the way it was. Sarah, Henry, You, and I. One big happy family. I still love you, Hermione. Even you said you still love me. We should put our family back together.”

Hermione remained silent as she stared at him. “Are you inebriated?” she asked finally.

“No. That's why she left me, Hermione. Because I still love you. I thought I loved Lavender, but she was just a fling. I want it all to go back to the way it was. Tell Harry to go back to Australia … he's doing no one any good staying here. He's getting in our way again. I lost everything after he came back.”

Hermione felt the anger bubbling inside of her as she drew out her wand and stormed across the room to her ex-husband.

“Don't you dare say anything about Harry.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

“It's always about Harry-”

“IT'S NOT ALWAYS ABOUT HARRY!” she shouted, “I LOVE HARRY! AND YOU KNOW THAT!”

“NO YOU DON'T!” he shouted back, “YOU'VE ALWAYS LOVED ME! YOU SAID YES WHEN I ASKED YOU OUT, YOU SAID YES WHEN I ASKED YOU TO MARRY ME, YOU SAID YES WHEN I WANTED TO START A FAMLY, AND I SAID YES TO YOU WHEN YOU WANTED A SILLY DIVORCE! YOU WERE JUST UPSET! IT'S OVER BETWEEN LAVENDER AND I, WE CAN GET BACK TOGETHER!”

“I WAS ALWAYS SOME PRIZE TO YOU, WASN'T I? SOMETHING HARRY COULDN'T HAVE! I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU RON, AS MY BROTHER. YOU KNOW THAT! WE BICKER TOO BLOODY MUCH!”

“We'll work on it!” he shot back.

“Ron, I'm married to Harry, I love him so much, and you're a fool for asking me to leave him for you. I understand you're upset that Lavender left you, but you have no right blaming it on Harry and I.”

“Harry ruined everything!” he yelled at her, causing her to flinch. “Everything was great while he was gone, wasn't it? We were happily married, we had two wonderful kids, everything was perfect, but I hadn't made that mistake of giving into Lavender's temptations, we would still be together!”

Hermione raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

“I thought everything was okay, Ronald,” she said as he stared at her. “But now, I'm making sure that you don't go anywhere near Henry or Sarah unless Harry and I are around. Do you understand me? Harry is my husband. I love him more than I'll ever love you. You're to come nowhere near us, or our home. You won't even lay eyes on James.

“You've been such a dead beat to Henry and Sarah these past few months. Hell, for the past year and a half, Harry's been around them more than you have. He's been more of a father to them lately than you have. They call him daddy because you aren't around. Yes, it is about Harry right now because I'm married to him, and I will stay married to him. I love him so fucking much, Ron. I've always loved him. He looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world, and he makes me feel like I am. He makes me feel like I'm the only thing that matters. I could have been anyone for all you cared, because all I was was a prize to you. I don't know why I didn't see it before. You never loved me. I was something Harry couldn't have. Harry and I could have had years together if it weren't for you.

“So I'm promising you now, Ronald Bilius Weasley, until you get your act together and I believe you're acceptable, you won't be near Henry, Sarah, or I, unless it's scheduled or supervised.”

“You can't do that,” he rasped.

“Consider it already done. You know how our laws work. What I say goes.” Said Hermione before she grabbed her coat out of the closet and stormed out of the flat.

“Hermione wait,” Ron called desperately.

She said nothing as she dissaparated.

“Mama!” James babbled happily as Hermione hung up her coat. She smiled as her baby ran towards her on unsteady legs. She bent down and picked him up, causing him to squeal in delight. He was a spitting image of his father, whom was presently in the sitting room with Sarah swung over his shoulder, while Henry looked on, laughing.

“Mama!” James said again as Hermione directed her attention to him.

“Yes sweetheart?” she asked softly, smoothing out his unruly raven hair.

“Loooooooooove you,” he continued, causing his mother to break out into a smile.

“I love you too,” she whispered, kissing his head as she sat down on the couch.

“Mum are you okay?” asked Henry.

Harry spun around quickly, causing Sarah to burst into giggles.

“Daddy put me down,” she demanded. Harry set her down carefully.

“Henry, take your sister and brother upstairs,” she instructed finally.

“Okay,” he said, lifting James out of her arms and led him out of the room.

Harry lowered himself onto the couch beside her and looked at her worriedly.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked as she swung her legs over his and buried her face in his chest.

“I'm horrible,” she whispered. He could feel her tears seeping through his jumper.

“What happened?” Harry inquired as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I activated the magical restraining order on Ron,” she continued.

Harry remained silent.

“He was saying such horrible things about us … He wanted to get back together with me, Harry. He came right out and told me to leave you and go back to him so we could be a family … I told him he wasn't allowed near us until he got his act together.”

“Are you sure it was absolutely necessary?” he asked calmly.

She nodded as he entwined their fingers together. “I've never felt scared when I was with him, until tonight. The things he was saying, Harry…”

“I'm going to put wards up,” he said quietly. “He won't be able to appearate or floo in. He won't come near us. I'll assign an Auror to him tomorrow to tail him to see if he's a threat to anyone. I can put someone undercover near your store to make sure he doesn't go in, if you like.”

“I-I don't know.”

“Did he threaten you as a person?” he asked her seriously.

“No,” she replied.

“Did he threaten Henry, Sarah, James, or myself?”

“No.”

“I need you to come in tomorrow to tell me exactly what he said, and what went on between you two.”

“Why can't we do it here?”

“Standard procedure,” he explained calmly.

Hermione stared. “What for?”

“When a magical restraining order is put into place, for example, you had the verbal power to do so whenever you divorced Ron. All you had to do was say it, and the spell was activated. It's normally not necessary for Aurors to get really involved unless the problem involves domestic violence. But I do need you to come in tomorrow to confirm everything, as I said earlier. I also need you to come in so I can know what the R.O involves, in case Ron attempts to break it, and he can be notified about it in court, in the event that occurs,” explained Harry. “Restraining orders are in my department, they all have to go to me to get established. I'd rather handle this one myself than let someone else do it,” he added.

Hermione nodded. “Being married to the head of the Auror department has its perks,” she said.

Harry half-smiled and wove his arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear as they peered into Henry's room, where Henry was trying to get his brother to colour inside the lines in his colouring book, and was failing horribly.

“Da!” exclaimed James as he noticed Harry in the doorway. Harry's face cracked into a smile as he bent down to pick him up.

“Hey buddy,” he whispered as Hermione sat down on the floor with Henry and Sarah.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione leaned back into Harry's chest as she read her book. She had been reading the same sentence for the past hour, she was sure Harry must have noticed she hadn't changed the page yet.

“Harry?” she asked softly.

“Mmm.”

She looked up and smiled. He was still engrossed in his Quiddich magazine.

“I think we need to clean out that room across from Sarah's,” she said without taking her eyes off him.

“If you think you need to, go right ahead,” he said nonchalantly. “I'm not stopping you.”

“I was thinking we could paint it yellow,” she continued.

“I've never been too fond of yellow,” he replied. “How about green?”

“James's room is already green, love.”

“I forgot.”

“I suppose we'll decide once we find out what the baby is,” said Hermione casually.

She watched as Harry's eyes widened, but never left the page he was reading.

“That damn husband of yours got you pregnant again, did he?” said Harry finally.

“He did. He never stops. All he does is eat, sleep, work, and shag,” replied Hermione, smiling as Harry met her gaze.

“Bastard,” he whispered, throwing the magazine across their bedroom and gathered her in his arms.

“I love you,” she whispered back wrapping her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him.

“How far along are you?” he asked between kisses.

“About a month and a half.”

“So mid-September.”

“Sounds about right,” she responded as he carefully lowered her down on top of their bed, “I have to see the healer tomorrow.”

“What a busy day you have,” he whispered as he dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat.

“Yes,” she groaned as she roughly ran her fingers through his hair.

“Four's an awful lot of children,” continued Harry.

“Not really. Look at the Weasley's.”

“True,” he said, “but I don't know about you, but with four children running around, I wouldn't want to stay in this flat. It'd be crowded.”

“What are you purposing, Mr. Potter?”

“That we relocate somewhere far more nicer, with a beautiful lawn, private, in the middle of nowhere,” explained Harry, looking up at her from between her legs as his fingers looped into her knickers, “a lovely house is much more accommodating to our growing family.”

“Any ideas?”

“None whatsoever. I want it far from here.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry looked up from his papers as his office door swung open. He smiled and stood up to greet his wife. She smiled warmly as he wrapped his arms around her and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. She smiled faintly and pulled away from him. Harry closed the door and turned around. She had seated herself in the chair in front of his desk. Harry said nothing as he walked across the room and produced a file folder from one of the many filing cabinets before walking back over to his desk and sat down in the chair across from Hermione.

“Did you go to your appointment yet?” he asked softly.

“No, I didn't,” she replied. “I'm heading to St. Mungo's after we finish here.”

“Would you mind if I went with you?”

“I'd love that. Then we could have lunch.”

Harry's serious expression was interrupted by a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She could tell he was trying to keep it as professional as possible, and not allowing his personal feelings to get in the way.

Hermione watched her husband as he remained silent, with his head bent down over the parchment on which he was writing. She could see clear down his shirt. Hermione reddened and forced herself to look away.

“What?” said Harry.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

Harry arched an eyebrow.

“Button up your shirt, would you?” she said finally.

Harry looked down and frowned. “I never button it up all the way.”

“It's bothering me,” she argued.

“How so?”

“I don't want every bloody woman in the Ministry to know what's down your shirt,” she snapped. Harry grinned.

Harry shook his head and reached up with his left hand, and to her dismay, undid another button.

“Harry, as the mother of your children, all I'm asking you to do is-”

“Don't wear such short skirts around me,” he interjected.

Hermione scoffed. “Harry, it's well past my knees.”

“I rest my case. If I button my jumper up all the way, I'd suffocate,” he said dismissively. “Moving on, I need you to answer some questions for me.”

Hermione nodded.

“What was your motivation to activate the restraining order on Ronald Bilius Weasley?”

“Ron was not acting normally, he was telling me to divorce my husband, Harry Potter, because he believed that I still wanted to be with him, and that I only remarried because I was on the rebound. I told him repeatedly no. I believed that he would have posed a threat to our two children.”

Harry nodded. “Under what circumstances is Ron allowed to have visitation rights to Henry Arthur and Sarah Louise Jane, if any?”

“Supervised visits by either myself, or my husband. Under no condition will they be allowed to be alone in his care. He is not allowed near my son, James Noah, until further notice, until I'm sure he won't harm him.”

She watched Harry's Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He didn't meet her gaze as he wrote. “Ronald Weasley is not allowed to be within 200 feet of you. He is not allowed any contact with you, or any of your children, unless supervised, excluding James Noah Potter, whom he is to have no contact with. If he violates this order, Aurors will instantly be notified, and he will be taken away. If he resists, he could be facing Azkaban. Do you agree to these terms?”

“Yes, yes I do,” whispered Hermione as she added her signature to the parchment. She set down the quill carefully and met Harry's gaze, which had softened considerably.

They quickly rose to their feet and Harry pulled her into his arms. Hermione took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. His hands wove around her neck and into her hair as she slid on top of his shiny oak desk. Harry had quickly hiked up her skirt and slid her knickers down to her ankles as she undid the button to his trousers. She could feel him pressed against her thigh as he prepared himself to enter her.

“I love you,” he breathed against her ear.

“I love you too,” she replied as she kissed his neck.

Hermione closed her eyes as Harry slowly brought her to the edge of his desk.

“POTTER? ARE YOU IN THERE?”

“Oh fuck,” whispered Harry as they sprang apart. Harry quickly did up his trousers, tucked in his shirt and did up the buttons while Hermione wrenched her knickers up her legs and smoothed down her skirt. She grabbed Harry's arm and turned him towards her and wiped off a bit of her lipstick off his neck and put on her jacket. Harry pulled on his and she took his arm. Harry pulled open his office door to come face-to-face with Lyon Bates.

“Mrs. Potter,” he acknowledged kindly.

“Minister Bates,” she replied.

“How can I help you, Minister?”

“Are you on your way out?”

“Yes, my wife has an appointment. She wanted me to accompany her. Is anything wrong?”

“I just received a letter from the Australian Minister. They're desperate…” he said awkwardly.

“Tell them I send my deepest regrets, but I'm perfectly fine here in England. If they needed me that bad, they'd contact me themselves,” said Harry seriously.

“Alright,” he said. “I don't understand why they want you back so bad…”

“The demand for Aurors in Australia is greater than it is here,” explained Harry. “If you don't mind… we're going to be late…”

“Of course. I'm sorry for taking up your time,” said Bates, stepping aside. Harry let Hermione out ahead of him and he magically locked his door and strode off down the corridor.

Hermione took Harry's hand and allowed him to lead her out of his department. They were silent as they headed up the lift and dissaparated to St. Mungo's. Many people in the waiting room looked up curiously as they entered, but they both kept their heads down and walked briskly towards the Maternity Ward.

x-x-x-x-x

“Well Mrs. Potter,” said their healer, Janet Earle, “You are indeed pregnant again. I suspect you'll be due around September 9th.”
“That's wonderful,” said Hermione as Harry hovered protectively behind her while she lay on the examination table. “Is it to early to detect the gender?”

“Of course not. I'll just perform the charm…”

She felt Harry's hand tense on her shoulder as Healer Earle waved her wand over her mid section. A bright pink puff of smoke soon emitted from her wand and she smiled.

“Congratulations, it appears you'll be having a girl.”

Hermione looked up at Harry, who's serious expression had cracked into a boyish grin.

“Thank you, Healer Earle,” said Harry finally as he shook her hand.

“The pleasure's all mine, I assure you. Congratulations, again,” she said kindly before exiting the room.

Harry whipped around and turned to Hermione who jumped into his arms and allowed him to spin her around the room. Harry smiled as her tinkling laugh filled the air as he placed butterfly kisses all over her face and neck.

“A daughter, Harry…” she whispered into his chest.

“I know … it's so hard to digest at the moment. I never thought I'd have any children … but now… I have Henry, Sarah, James, and now our little girl…”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to know that you acknowledge Henry and Sarah as your own,” said Hermione seriously.

Harry sighed. “Ever since that day I met Sarah in Flourish and Blotts, I had this feeling… I felt strangely content holding her in my arms … it just felt right.”

“We could have had so many years together…” whispered Hermione as she sank down onto the plastic chair.

“Don't think about what could have been, love,” Harry replied as he crouched down in front of her and kissed her forehead, “think about now. We're married; we have three amazing children, and another one on the way. Remember that.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry gently stroked Hermione's head as she lay comfortably in his lap reading. He knew they should be in bed; they were both worn from their day at work. Yet, they knew if they went to bed, they would be unable to sleep. They were to excited about their daughter. It was to early to tell their friends and family, so they decided to wait a while so they could be fully prepared to tell everyone. Hermione yawned and set down her book and looked adoringly up at her husband.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” he replied as she sat up and sat in his lap and kissed him lazily.

A light coming from their fireplace soon interrupted them. Harry looked over at it.

“Who's trying to enter?” he called towards it.

“Molly Weasley,” said a clear female voice.

Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded. “Alright.”

Hermione climbed off Harry's lap and stood up. Harry wove his arm protectively over her shoulder as a flustered Molly Weasley stumbled out of the grate.

Molly stared at the young man whom she had taken under her wing, and loved as if he were her own. Harry Potter would always hold a special place in her heart. Standing next to him was her son's ex-wife, who now proudly bore the name `Potter', instead of Weasley. For months following Ron and Hermione's divorce, she pondered the reason why they had decided to separate. When Harry and Hermione finally revealed that they were together and were even expecting a child, she was furious on the inside. She blamed Harry. And she knew it was wrong.

Weasley's didn't divorce. Never. They stuck together through thick and thin. Never in a million years had she thought Ron and Hermione would have divorced. It had always seemed it would be Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Ginny. It was obvious her only daughter was in love with her older brothers best friend. It was only time before he felt the same.

Soon enough, in his sixth year, her fifth, they got together. Finally, it seemed, everything was going to work out. All Ron and Hermione needed to do were set their worries aside and get together. Finally, they did during the war.

Everyone changed during the second war. It was made painfully obvious in its aftermath. Harry was far more distant; it seemed, far wiser than his eighteen years. She had tried getting Harry and Ginny back together. It seemed that they should be. It was only right. But, her attempts failed. Ginny had tried her hardest to capture Harry's attention, and he drove her away. He made it very clear to her that there was no chance for them. Within three weeks, Harry had gone on a `vacation' to Australia. He never came home or made contact with anyone but Remus Lupin for years.

Remus had always forwarded Harry's letters to her, which came once every four or five months. She never said anything to Ron or Hermione that she had been receiving news on Harry. She knew it was a touchy subject. Ron was furious with him for taking off like he did, and Hermione simply avoided the subject of Harry all together.

So the years went by and Harry still hadn't come home from Australia. In his letters, he never said anything about his personal life. He hadn't given any indication if he was married, single, dating, or had a child. It was normally “Work is fine, the weather is beautiful. Talk to you soon, Harry.” She had always worried about him. Was he eating enough in Australia? Was he feeling okay? Where was he living? Soon, she learned to suppress these thoughts. Then, on one glorious April morning, Harry showed up on her front doorstep. It seemed everything changed from that moment.

“Well?” she asked hotly.

“Molly…” began Harry gently.

“I want to hear it from Hermione, Harry.”

“I don't want to be with Ron, Molly,” said Hermione seriously, “I have no idea what he told you, and I'm sure it's an exaggeration of the truth. I'm not sure if he was intoxicated when we spoke yesterday, Molly, but I assure you if I didn't think Ron was going to do something, I wouldn't have done what I did.”

“He deserves to see his own children, Hermione.”

“I never said he couldn't. His visits with them have to be supervised.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Yes.”

Molly exhaled and said nothing.

“Molly, please understand this. We wouldn't do it if we didn't think it was absolutely necessary. Whether you want to believe it or not, Ron hasn't been around for Sarah and Henry much these past few months. Harry has. I'm not asking for them to forget about Ron and let Harry be their only father, I could never do that. But Ron was saying these things about us … I don't trust him around Henry or Sarah. Regardless of what you think,” Hermione continued. “We need your support in this decision Molly. I don't want to put a strain on our family.”

“I understand,” she said softly. “Ronald is my son, and I love him. But you two do have my support on this.”

Harry let out the breath he had been holding in relief. “Thank you, Molly, so much,” he whispered as he embraced her.

“I love you like my own son, Harry. Never tell a word of this to anyone, but I know you speak the truth more than any of my children put together.”

Hermione laughed as Molly turned to her and smiled. “Thank you, Molly,” she whispered as her second mother held her close.

“Anything you want to tell me, darling?” Molly asked as she held Hermione at an arms length.

Hermione locked eyes with Harry, who nodded.

“I'm a month and a half pregnant,” she confessed. “Harry and I are expecting a daughter.”

“That's wonderful!” Molly exclaimed instantly wrapping both of them in one of her infamous hugs.

“Thank you, Molly.” Harry whispered as he returned her embrace. “Please don't tell anyone. We've only just found out. We haven't informed the kids yet.”

“Of course, Harry,” assured Molly, “frankly, I'm amazed you two kept the mum about James for as long as you did.”

“It was all Hermione,” Harry laughed as he kissed her on the side of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I just wanted to wait for the right time,” she whispered guiltily. “I don't regret a minute of it,” she added softly.

“I should get home,” Molly said finally. “Arthur will be wondering…”

“That's alright,” Harry assured as she embraced him again.

“Congratulations, again,” she said softly before stepping into the grate and disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding before turning to Harry.

“I didn't expect that,” she said quietly.

“Nor did I,” he responded, wrapping her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

-->

10. Chapter 9

“I think this is the one, love,” Harry whispered as he pulled the car over on the side of the road.

“Harry, there's no sign,” Hermione protested.

“I don't care,” he said, grinning as he climbed out.

“Harry-” she called, but he had already taken off down the driveway.

Hermione sighed as she watched her husband disappear behind the house. She had to agree with him; it was indeed a beautiful, modern looking home. It did seem perfect, with a large, private lot away from prying eyes, a lake in the backyard for swimming, large, welcoming windows… It seemed too good to be true. And knowing their luck, the house wasn't on the market, and probably belonged to some muggle celebrity. Knowing Harry, he would pull every string in the world to get that house for their family.

Sighing, she slowly hoisted her seven-months-pregnant form out of Harry's car and straightened up. It did feel good to stand, as they had been driving around the English countryside for what seemed like hours. Her parents were visiting again, and had taken Henry, Sarah, and James for the day while she and Harry went house hunting for what seemed like the thousandth time since January. Nothing seemed to be `perfect'. There had always been `good', and `alright', but never perfect. She knew what kind of home Harry was looking for, and now, she was presently standing in front of it while he trespassed on private property.

“HARRY!” She shouted hopelessly.

“Can I help you, miss?”

Hermione spun around and came face-to-face with a kind looking middle-aged-man.

“I'm so sorry,” she apologized quickly, “my husband is in your backyard.”

The man quirked an eyebrow.

Hermione laughed nervously. “We've been driving around for hours, looking for homes for sale in this area, and he saw yours and just bolted from the car.”

“I see,” he said slowly, “my name is Richard Putnam.”

“Hermione Potter,” she said kindly as they walked around the side of the house. “That idiot halfway across your yard is my husband, Harry.”

“It's quite a coincidence that you two stopped here,” explained Richard, “my wife and I have just put our home on the private market. We want to move somewhere where it's warmer.”

“Your joking,” said Hermione, obviously astonished.

“No Mrs. Potter, I'm not,” he said seriously. “I can take you and your husband through it, if you'd like.”

“We'd love that,” she said as Harry jogged towards them.

“I'm sorry sir, I just-”

“It's quite alright, sir, your wife just explained the situation to me. I just finished telling her that my home is for sale on the private market,” he explained.

Harry's smiled, “that makes everything a whole lot easier,” he laughed.

“Would you like to come through?”

“We'd love to,” said Harry as he grasped Hermione's hand, “I'm Harry Potter, by the way.”

“Richard Putnam,” he replied, “is this your first child?”

Hermione briefly looked at Harry and smiled, “our fourth,” she replied happily.

“You look so young!”

“Thanks,” said Harry quickly, making it obvious that he didn't want to elaborate anymore on his family situation.

Harry remained silent as they entered the house, and immediately felt a sense of warmth. It seemed the house was perfect for them; with its eight bedrooms, tall windows in the sitting room that over looked the lake, private yard, fireplaces in the sitting room and master bedroom, oak floors and cherry wood kitchen. Hermione immediately fell in love with the balcony, and wasted no time gushing about how she could sit out there with their daughter during the summers.

“Whatever you want for this house, Mr. Putnam,” said Harry seriously as they sat in the sitting room, “I can pay. Money isn't an issue, I assure you.”

“I'm sure we can work something out, Mr. Potter,” assured Richard.

x-x-x-x-x

“Mum?” Hermione called as she and Harry entered the flat, “Dad?”

“Kitchen, sweetheart,” responded Helen.

“We bought a house,” whispered Harry as she wove her arms around his neck and kissed his chin.

“We bought a house,” she replied as he dipped his head down towards hers and kissed her lightly before pulling away and led her into the kitchen.

“Hello darling, Harry,” acknowledged Helen.

“Where's dad?” asked Hermione.

“I believe Henry's trying to explain `Quidditch' to him again,” she laughed.

“I see.”

“Daddy!” called James from his highchair; completely ignoring the food his grandmother was trying to feed him.

Harry moved away from Hermione and made his way towards his son who reached out to him instantly.

“I can take over, Helen, if you'd like.”

“Thank you, Harry. Getting this boy to eat is utterly impossible,” she said as she and Hermione left the room.

Harry laughed and sat down in her abandoned chair and picked up the spoon and loaded it with mashed potatoes.

“Were you a good boy today, James?” Harry asked quietly as his son took his food without protest.

Silence.

“Your mum and I bought a house today,” he continued, “with a big backyard. I can finally take you flying … but don't tell your mummy that. She'll kill me. I want at least one of my children playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, do you understand me?”

James laughed toothlessly. “Daddy!”

“I love you, boy,” he whispered as he lifted him out of the chair and set him on the floor. “Go find your mum, and yell real loud when you do. Okay?”

James nodded and tore out of the room.

“MUMMY!”

x-x-x-x-x

“I've wanted this for so long,” whispered Harry as they sat on the swinging couch on their private balcony off their bedroom in their new home.

“I know,” Hermione replied, snuggling in closer to his chest and closed her eyes. “It really is a shame we have to leave for Australia tomorrow.”

Harry remained quiet.

“Harry?”

“Yes love?”

“Are you nervous about going back there?”

“A little, I guess. I haven't spoken to anyone since I moved back here … I'm sure they'll be shocked…”

“How so?”

Harry looked away from her. “I never told them anything about my life here. I just sort of went around and did my own thing, and no one questioned that. I'm sure some of the guys will just be surprised with me showing up with a pregnant wife and three kids.”

“What do you mean, did your own thing?” she asked suspiciously.

“I partied,” he said finally, “a lot. I went to clubs with some of my friends from work. It kept my mind off everything here.”

“I don't believe you!” said Hermione, moving away from him. “You're no better than Ron!”

“Hey now!” protested Harry, “That's not true, and you know it! There hasn't been a night where you haven't known where I've been!”

“How am I to know you didn't bugger off with some whore?”

“Because I wouldn't do that to you,” said Harry quietly, “and you know it. I'm not Ron.”

Hermione exhaled loudly and walked to the edge of the balcony. She instantly relaxed when she felt Harry's hands on her elbows. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly.

“Look,” he said softly, “I'm not proud of what I did. But it's my life. I know I fucked up when I was there; I did so many things you wouldn't approve of … Hell, I had to wait an extra year to come home because I had to quit smoking and get my drinking under control.”

“Were you ever going to tell me this?”

“No,” he replied truthfully, “I wasn't. I didn't want you to know.”

“Oh.”

“Five years in,” he began quietly as he moved away from her, “I prayed to Merlin that you didn't come. I was such a mess. I lived for my job, and to go out at night to forget about it and everything else. There was no reason for me to live down there. There was nothing here for me. I tried moving on.”

“Keep going,” she said softly, ignoring his flinch as she touched his arm.

“I was engaged,” he admitted. “For a year. I forced myself to believe that I had to be with her. Her name was Myra. She was Australian … we worked together. She had figured out why I was in Australia; she never believed the bullshit I made everyone else believe about accepting a transfer. She knew there was a woman here I couldn't stand to be around. She told me she was proud that I was moving on. I asked her out to dinner, and it went from there. I proposed to her … she said yes. I think a part of me died; because I realised by marrying Myra, I was throwing away any chance I had of being with you. We had even set a date for the wedding. It was three weeks before we were to marry I finally realised I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry her. I went home that night and told her I couldn't. She didn't deserve some shitbag like me who was in love with another man's wife; who would leave her for the other woman in a heartbeat. She deserved someone who loved her in ways I couldn't.

“It's partly her fault I'm here,” he said, “she told me to stop being a fucking idiot and go home. Go home and fight for you … so I took the job as Head of the Auror Department, flew my sorry ass back to England, and you know the rest.”

She refused to look at him. She didn't know if she should be angry or happy. He had almost married another woman and never told her. Hermione quickly moved away from and retreated into their bedroom. She heard Harry come in as she sank down on top of their bed and ran her hands over her bulging stomach.

“Hermione?” Harry asked cautiously as he approached her.

She looked up at him briefly. “I love you,” she whispered as he sat down beside her. “I love you so much…”

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and gently cupped her face in his hand and rubbed her cheek with her thumb. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She sighed as she rested her head against his chest, allowing the steady sound of his heartbeat to calm her.

Harry sighed and lazily ran his fingers through her hair as she leaned against him. “I'm sorry,” he said finally.

Hermione pulled away slightly and looked at him questioningly. “Whatever for?”

“While we were hunting for Horcrux's, I had made the decision I was going to Australia. I lied to you all. I never applied to England. I applied to Australia, New Zealand, America, Mexico, and Bulgaria. I was going down there to meet with the Training Officer to find a place to live and establish myself before training began. I'm sorry I lied…”

“Oh Harry,” she whispered, burying her face in his shirt. “I never wanted to put you through that…”

“It's not your fault,” he said forcefully. “It's mine. I made that decision to leave. I made the decision to mess around. It's my mess; I'm cleaning it up gradually. I've got my life back on track. I've got three absolutely wonderful children; with another one on the way. I've got a wife that actually loves me and doesn't resent me for my faults … I had to tell you before we went in case we ran into someone there. Sydney has a large magical population,” he explained.

“Harry love, it's okay,” she assured. “You've been home for two and a half years. We have a son we now we never thought we'd have. We'll be welcoming a daughter soon. You need to stop worrying about the past and move on.”

“And you?” he asked.

“As far as I'm concerned at the moment,” she said seriously, “I was never married to Ron, and he is not the father of my children.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Harry's mouth, cracking his serious expression.

“Henry asked me the other day,” she said softly, “if he and Sarah will ever have the last name `Potter'.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I'd talk to you about it.”

“If I legally make them mine, it might drive Ron around the bend.”

“At this point, I don't care. He hasn't been around them very often, even with the limitations in his order. The last time he saw them was over two months ago, and Sarah didn't want to be around him. I think she over heard us talking about it … She yelled at him with as much seriousness as she could muster… I was strangely proud.”

“Well, she's your daughter,” replied Harry, kissing the side of her head.

“Speaking of daughters,” said Hermione as she snuggled into his embrace, “what are we naming ours?”

“Keep with tradition and name her Lillian?”

“Lily for short?”

“Lillian Helen Potter sounds charming.”

“Helen?” inquired Hermione.

“I thought it'd be nice,” he shrugged. “Your mum and my mum.”

Hermione smiled lovingly at him, “I think it sounds beautiful.”

“Lillian Helen Potter it is then,” said Harry, “Sarah will be devastated. She's been calling her Melody ever since she found out.”

Hermione laughed, “I think she'll live.”

“Your parents are meeting us there, right?”

“Right. They wanted to be there for the birth of at least one of their grandchildren. They'll be a godsend for when I finally give birth. They love taking care of Henry, James, and Sarah.”

“I know,” agreed Harry, “I'm so grateful for them.”

“I've always loved the Weasleys, and I always will … but I can't help but feel like I only spent so much time there to keep Ron happy,” admitted Hermione.

“They were an escape from the Dursleys,” Harry admitted quietly, “I would have gone anywhere to get away.”

x-x-x-x-x

“You used to live here, daddy?” Sarah inquired excitedly.

“Yes honey, not on the beach, mind you, but in the city,” explained Harry as he held her protectively in his arms as they gazed out over the ocean. Harry had surprised them all, including Hermione's parents, by renting out an extremely private villa just outside Sydney, where they would have access to a private beach, and would be able to be together, without anyone staying in separate hotel rooms.

“Can you swim in there?”

“Yes Sarah.”

“Can we go swimming in the morning?”

“I'll talk to your mum about it, okay?”

“When's my sister coming?” she demanded.

Harry laughed as he set her down, “soon, love, soon.”

“You said that before James was born, and I had to wait two months,” she said stubbornly.

“Sarah, love, I think your mother would kill me if she had to wait two more months before Lily is born. It should be no more than two weeks, I promise.”

“Will she be little like James was when he came home?”

“Maybe littler,” explained Harry. “But she'll grow fast.”

“Dad,” called Henry, “Mum's looking for you.”

“Come on, Sarah. I don't want you out here alone.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't know what's out here, that's why.”

“Oh.”

Harry took her hand and led her back inside and looked at the clock. “Go get ready for bed, darling.”

“Okay, daddy. I love you,” she whispered, hugging him while she was in mid-yawn before disappearing up the fight of stairs.

“James fell asleep as soon as he got in his crib,” Hermione whispered as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his back.

“And Henry?” He asked softly.

“Upstairs, reading some comic book.”

“Wonderful,” he replied, turning around to face her and kissed her lightly.

“How are you?” she asked as he nuzzled her neck.

“Tired. I want to go to sleep,” he admitted.

“Mum and dad are in their suite for the night, perhaps we should lock up and head in,” she suggested.

“I like that idea,” whispered Harry, kissing her again. Hermione distantly heard the door lock behind her.

“Wandless?” she breathed.

Harry nodded. “I use it more than you know,” he replied, smiling faintly.

Hermione smiled and raked her fingers through his shaggy hair and kissed him hard.

x-x-x-x-x

“Daddy stop!” Sarah giggled as Harry pulled her to the ground and tickled her.

“Say it, Sarah!” Harry laughed as she swatted helplessly at his arms.

“No!” she yelled, laughing harder.

“Say it, Sarah!”

“UNC-”

“Harry Potter?”

Harry stopped dead. Seeing the expression on her father's face, Sarah stopped laughing instantly.

“Harry, is that you?” the voice repeated.

Harry swallowed.

“Daddy? Who's she?”

Harry straightened up and lifted Sarah into his arms and spun around. “Myra,” he said quietly.

“What're you doing here?” she asked cautiously.

“Spending the day with my kids,” he replied simply.

“Kids?”

“All three of them,” he said. “This one's Sarah … Henry and James went to get ice cream with Hermione.”

“I thought you said you didn't have any children,” she accused.

“I didn't,” he replied quickly, “Henry and Sarah are my wife's. James is mine, he's nearing two,” he explained.

“Ah.”

“Yeah … so how about you?”

“I'm engaged to Lucas,” she said happily, flashing her ring.

“Ulrich?”

“Heavens no. That boy will never marry. Lucas Hanning, from the Minister's office.”

“I vaguely remember him. Tall bloke, right?”

“Yes,” said Myra dryly. “The woman you went home for … is she…?”

“My wife,” said Harry, smiling. “We were married not even a year after I came home.”

“I told you,” laughed Myra, “I told you she'd want to be with you.”

“Yeah, well,” said Harry awkwardly.

“Harry?” came Hermione's voice from behind him.

“Hello, love… This is Myra … Myra Ingland,” introduced Harry, his eyes never leaving his wife's, “Myra, this is my wife, Hermione.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” said Hermione kindly, shaking her offered hand, “I really have to thank you for telling this one to get his sorry ass home,” she added, jabbing her thumb in Harry's direction.

“Hey!” protested Harry.

“Someone needed to tell him,” laughed Myra, “I'm glad he's happy. He deserved it.”

“Thank you,” said Harry quietly as Sarah slid out of his arms and took her ice cream from Henry.

“I really must get going … I was just passing through, and I swore I saw the back of your head,” she explained. “Lucas will be wondering where I am.”

“Nice seeing you, Myra,” said Harry as she gave him a friendly hug.

“You too, Harry. Take care.”

Harry smiled and lifted James's sleeping form out of Hermione's arms.

“Who was she, dad?” inquired Henry.

“A girl I was friends with while I lived here,” answered Harry, shifting James in his arm and lightly grasped Hermione's hand.

“Oh,” he said simply, before running off in the direction of the play park with his sister.

“She came up to me, I swear!” Said Harry instantly.

“I don't care. She seems too talkative,” said Hermione dismissively as she lowered herself into the park bench where she could have a clear view of Henry and Sarah.

“I love you,” said Harry quietly, kissing her exposed neck lightly.

“I miss being with you,” she admitted quietly.

Harry exhaled, “You're not helping the situation by wearing skimpy silk things to bed … do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Hermione laughed, “Harry, it's comfortable for me … I'll just stop wearing things to bed just for you.”

“You should be doing that whether you're pregnant or not,” he said seriously, “I mean, it'd make things a hell of a lot easier.”

Hermione laughed. “I love you, Harry,” she said, looking up at him fondly.

Harry smiled and studied her face.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“Would you mind if I went out tonight and met up with a few of my friends?” he asked softly. “I won't stay late … I just haven't seen Lucas and Ben in years.”

“If you get pissed drunk, it's your own fault,” she warned. “I go with you if we didn't have three kids, and I wasn't pregnant…”

“I'm sorry about that part,” he whispered.

“Only two of them are biologically your problem,” she joked.

“That's not funny,” he responded as he felt James bury his head in his shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean it that way,” said Hermione quickly.

“It's alright,” he assured, kissing the side of her head.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry could feel the stares on the back of his head as he was enthusiastically greeted by the bouncer at the door, making it apparent to those waiting in line that this man was obviously a VIP member. Harry breezed through the dance floor that was packed with dancing couples, engrossed in the music; oblivious to everyone else around them. Harry made his way to the bar and ordered himself a pint and made his way over to a table in the far corner.

“Holy fuck,” shouted one of the two men, a large grin plastered to his face.

“Sorry I'm a bit late,” replied Harry as he slid into the booth. “Must've gotten lost.”

“Bugger,” said Lucas, “Are you embarrassed of us, Harry James? We haven't heard from you since the day you left.”

“Of course I'm embarrassed,” said Harry dismissively, “I wouldn't want them to know I've fraternized with you idiots.”

“What the hell are you doing here then?” inquired Ben.

“My wife's having our daughter here,” he explained.

Lucas stared, “Ben, did he just say `my, wife, and daughter' in the same sentence? OUR Harry Potter? The man who swore he would never marry?”

Harry laughed, “Things change, apparently.”

“What's her name?”

“Hermione.”

“Fine, upstanding, English woman name,” said Ben knowingly. “What does she look like then?”

“Curly brown hair, brown eyes … absolutely amazing body, legs could go on for miles…”

“I wouldn't mind being married to her,” said Lucas. “Wait- is this the same Hermione you said you were friends with, but she married that Wesley-”

“Weasley. And yes, same woman.”

“So you went home and stole another man's wife?”

“She left him,” said Harry. “I just ended up sleeping with her a week after she divorced him, and we were already in love … I ended up getting her pregnant with our son, he's almost two … We were married in December a few years back.”

“So where's this Weasley guy at?”

“No fucking clue. He got a transfer to the Romanian ministry, was the last I heard. Hermione doesn't know that.”

“Did they have any kids?”

“Two.”

“Holy fuck, Harry. Four kids?”

“Yeah,” replied Harry as he took a drink of his beer and grinned, “I really couldn't be happier.”

“I suppose she made you quit smoking,” inquired Ben.

“I quit before I went home, remember? I still have an odd one every once in a while when I'm stressed … but she doesn't need to know about that …”

“I wish I had that motivation,” said Lucas gravely, “if an AK doesn't kill me, the smoking will…”

Ben and Harry laughed loudly.

“So let me get this straight,” said Ben seriously, “You, Harry James Potter, are married, with three children, and you and your wife are here to have your fourth?”

“Yes,” said Harry calmly. “Henry is seven, Sarah is five, and James is a year and a half.”

“I still don't believe this,” said Lucas. “You of all people… Married!”

“Things change, I guess. I love her, she loves me for some reason… that's what matters.”

“Very sincere words there Potter.”

“I try,” said Harry dryly.

x-x-x-x-x

It was well after midnight when Harry stumbled into his bedroom. All the lights had been extinguished, and he could vaguely make out his wife's sleeping form in their bed. Yawning, he stripped down to his boxers and stumbled into the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth before heading back into their room. He slowly lifted the blankets up and climbed into bed with Hermione.

“Are you just getting in?” Asked Hermione groggily as she felt Harry's arm fall loosely over her stomach.

“Yeah,” yawned Harry. “I didn't realise the time … we got talking and I lost track … I wanted to be home … eleven…”

“It's nearly three.”

“I'm really sorry,” he slurred as he buried his face in her back. “I love you.”

“I'm sure you do,” said Hermione, sighing as he held onto her protectively. She realised it was the first time she had ever witnessed Harry completely intoxicated.

“I do,” he insisted, pressing a wet kiss to her shoulder, “I've always loved you. Always.”

“Go to sleep, love,” she whispered, shifting her position and rested her head on his bare shoulder.

x-x-x-x-x

“DADDY!”

Harry groaned.

“DADDY!”

He buried his head in his pillow.

“DADDY UP!”

“Daddy's up, James…” Harry yawned, opening his eyes and focused on his son who was trying to shake his shoulder. Grinning, Harry reached up and pulled his son off him and to his side and began tickling him. James instantly dissolved into giggles. Harry kissed his son's identical mess of black hair and looked up at the doorway and smiled at Hermione, who had Sarah's hand held tightly in hers.

“Morning,” said Sarah brightly as she jumped in on the bed and kissed Harry's cheek.

“Morning, darling,” he whispered, kissing the side of her head. He raised his eyebrow suggestively at Hermione, who laughed.

“Sarah love, take your brother downstairs. Harry and I will be down soon.”

“Okay, mummy,” replied Sarah, taking James's tiny hand in hers and carefully led him across the room and passed their very pregnant mother. Hermione crossed her arms and entered the room as Harry stood up to greet her.

“How's your head?” she asked softly.

“Pounding,” he admitted truthfully. “How's yours?”

“Fine,” she replied, laughing as he kissed her softly.

“How's Lily?”

“Fine,” she repeated as he looked at her curiously.

“What's wrong, love?” he asked her softly.

“Do you still find me attractive?” she demanded.

Harry looked slightly taken-aback. “You know I do,” he said carefully, “You're absolutely beautiful, Hermione. Why would you doubt that?”

Hermione looked away from him and wandered across the room and stared out the window. “After yesterday, I don't understand why you're with me and you didn't stay with her. She was gorgeous.”

Harry exhaled. “I have no idea what runs through your mind half the time,” he began quietly, “but you need to understand I never loved Myra. I cared for her, yes, but I wasn't in love with her. She was pretty. She cared about me. I doubt she loved me. We were two pathetic saps who thought we could make each other happy. That was it. I love you, Hermione. I could never love another woman the way I love you. You're beautiful, and I thank Merlin everyday that I have you. I love our children, all four of them. I promise you this, Hermione,” said Harry seriously.

“How can you do that?” she asked finally, leaning into his embrace.

“Do what, darling?”

“Make me feel like I'm he only thing that matters to you.”

“It's a talent,” he murmured, kissing her exposed neck. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he continued, his fingers grazing her stomach.

“I-I love you too, Harry,” she moaned as his fingers expertly slid into her flannel pyjama pants and gently began stroking her. “The healer said-”

“The healer said we couldn't make love so close to your due date,” he said, “she said nothing about this.”

Hermione whimpered and slumped against him as he inserted another finger inside of her.

“HARRY! HERMIONE! ARE YOU TWO COMING DOWN FOR BREAKFAST?” Shouted Helen. Hermione froze against Harry, whose hand has stopped dead inside of her.

“We'll be down in a minute, mum!” called Hermione as Harry slowly removed his fingers from inside of her and pulled away.

“I'll be down in a few moments,” whispered Harry, kissing her lightly.

“Alright,” replied Hermione, returning his kiss and left him.

Harry exhaled and pulled on a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt before disappearing into the bathroom. He relieved himself and washed his hands before slowly descending down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Morning, dad,” said Henry, not looking up from his comic book.

“Morning Henry,” replied Harry as he took his place by Hermione and loosely grasped her hand under the table.

“What time did you come in last night, Harry?” inquired Edward seriously over his newspaper.

“Err,” said Harry, glancing sideways at Hermione, “A little late. I met up with a few of my mates … lost track of time.”

“I see,” said Edward carefully, “did you socialise with these men often while you lived here?”

“Yes I did,” replied Harry, not looking at his father-in-law as he poured himself a mug of coffee. “That's what I normally did with my friends. We went out a few nights a week so we wouldn't have to be bothered with work.”

Edward studied his face, as if trying to find some underlying message that would find some flaw within him. Harry had only recently told Hermione fully of his life there, and there was no way in hell was he going to tell Edward. He would never hear the end of it. Harry looked up briefly, but Edward had already gone back to his paper.

“I was thinking,” he announced, “since you lot are going shopping, I'd spare Henry the pain and take him to the Ministry here with me. Show him around.”

“Really?” said Henry excitedly, “can I go mum, please?” he asked anxiously.

Hermione sighed and glanced at Harry who held her gaze with a serious expression on his face.

“Alright,” she sighed, “just … don't stay there all day.”

“Okay, mum!” said Henry happily.

“Go brush your teeth, Henry. We'll be leaving soon,” said Harry seriously.

“Can't I finish my breakfast?”

“How many hot cakes have you had so far?”

Henry looked at his empty plate guiltily. “I'll be ready soon,” he said.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry glanced at Henry as he drove down the highway towards the outskirts of Sydney, where the Ministry of Magic was located. The boy had been unusually quiet since they left their villa.

“Is everything alright, Henry?” questioned Harry.

“Can I ask you something?” said Henry finally, “and you've got to promise not to lie to me.”

“Okay,” said Harry slowly as he glanced over his shoulder as he swerved into the passing lane.

“Why did you come here? I mean, dad always said that you just wanted a change of sights or something. I tried asking mum, and she changed the subject. Now dad isn't around anymore, mum doesn't know where he went. I want to know what's going on.”

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and looked at Henry with a serious expression painted across his features. “I came here when I was eighteen to get away from your parents,” he admitted quietly.

“Why?” Henry demanded.

“Because, I didn't want to be around them.”

“Why?” he repeated.

“Because I loved your mother,” replied Harry, “I loved her so much. I wanted what was best for her. She was happy without me. I never thought she would marry so young. The Hermione Granger I grew up with was always career first, family can come later … don't get me wrong, she loves you all to death, and she wouldn't change anything for the world. But after the war, everyone changed. I made the decision long ago to come here. I never thought they would get engaged so quickly. I was with your Aunt Ginny for the longest time, but we separated before the war. The woman I was in love with was with my best friend; my ex-girlfriend tried to get back together with me and I didn't want to… there was no one here for me. I was eighteen, fresh out of a war. I didn't know what to do with myself. So I applied all over the world for Auror Training… I got accepted here, lied to your whole family, and just up and left everyone high and dry. I was a mess while I lived here. Your mother would've killed me if she saw what I was doing.

“But I stayed away. Didn't answer any telephone calls, post, nothing. I moved to Italy for a year, and then I moved back to Australia, got engaged, left my fiancé, and moved back to England. I hadn't been home for a week until your mum and sister nearly murdered me in Flourish and Blotts. It was all happening so fast. It seemed it like I had just gotten back here and the next thing Hermione was pregnant with James. I was so scared I was going to lose her. Lose you and Sarah.

“I have no idea what happened with your father and Lavender. Lavender refuses to say. I know she loves him, but Ron can be an insufferable Git sometimes. You mum and dad had a huge row a few months back. It was bad… Your mum placed a magical restraining order against your dad,” he explained seriously. Henry hung on to his every word.

“Did he hurt her?” he asked angrily.

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes,” said Harry. “Shortly after that I was notified from someone in the Ministers office that your dad had asked to be transferred out of the country. He's living in Romania now with your Uncle Charlie and your Aunt Janine. Your mum doesn't know that yet. I don't have the heart to tell her.”

“Why's he there?”

“I have no idea, Henry. I wish everything was fine between us. But your father's a jealous person. I suppose he just cracked. I don't want you to think for a minute that I ever came back to England with the intention to break up your parents.”

“Would you have started seeing my mum like dad started seeing Lavender?” inquired Henry.

“Yes,” admitted Harry quietly. “I would've been with her in a heartbeat. I know it sounds selfish. But your mum and I have talked about that, and if it did happen … we wouldn't have taken it as far as Ron and Lavender did.”

“You're not going to leave us, are you?”

“No, Henry. I swear to you I'll never leave you. I don't think I could live with myself if I did,” said Harry honestly. “I've got a family now … I have a duty to you lot. All five of you.”

“Are you and mum going to have anymore kids after Lily's born?”

“You're full of questions today,” laughed Harry.

“Answer it, dad,” Henry said with about as much seriousness a seven-year-old could muster.

Harry smiled faintly, “I would love to have at least one more,” he said quietly, “but you and Sarah are getting too old. There'd be too much of a difference between you all. There's already six years between you and James, seven between you and Lily. I don't think there's going to be anymore. You're mother's almost been constantly pregnant for the past two and a half years; I don't think she can take it anymore. I think we'll be done after Lily. Why?”

“I don't know. I just thought it'd be cool to have another brother.”

“I see,” said Harry knowingly, “I would've killed for a brother or sister when I was your age. All I had was my cousin. He was horrible. I haven't spoken to him in years.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, Henry?”

“Thanks.”

x-x-x-x-x

Harry felt Henry's hand slip into his as they entered the Australian Ministry of Magic. Harry knew if he should say anything, Henry would pull back immediately. Smiling faintly, Harry breezed through the security checkpoint, saying hello to the middle-aged balding man sitting behind the desk.

“Glad to see you back, Potter,” called Robert.

“Thanks,” called Harry.

“Who's he?” enquired Henry, glancing over his shoulder.

“Robert Patterson, he's the head of security here,” explained Harry. “You've been inside the Ministry back home, right?”

“Once, with dad.”

“This place is kind of laid out the same way, except we're above ground and invisible to Muggles, much like the Quidditch stadiums. The Auror Department, where I used to work, is on the seventh floor, near the top, which is below the Ministers offices. On the sixth and fifth floors, is the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Fourth floor is the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Third Floor is Magical Law Enforcement, Second Floor is International Wizarding Affairs, the main level are administrative offices. The basement is full of courtrooms, and the dungeons are for potion experiments. The Department of Mysteries is off site at some clandestine location. Got it?”

“No,” said Henry as they stepped into the lift.

Harry laughed. “Good.”

Henry stuck close to Harry when the lift nosily opened. Harry pushed the chipped brass gate out of the way, held out his hand for Henry to take, and walked down the narrow pathway between the cubicles.

“Dear Merlin, it can't be,” shouted a male voice.

“This will be the most idiotic man you'll ever meet. More so than Fred or George,” whispered Harry. Henry grinned.

“Don't just stand there, boy, turn around and face me like a man!”

“You were always full of yourself, Seth,” said Harry loudly as he turned around to face the tall, sandy haired man with a foolish grin plastered to his face.

“Every word out of your mouth Potter is a lie,” he joked as they shook hands. “I could've sworn when you first came here you said you had no kids.”

Henry instantly became interested in his shoes and stuck closer to Harry.

“He's my stepson,” explained Harry seriously. “He is my son as far as I'm concerned.”

“Married?”

“Almost three years.”

“To whom?”

“Hermione Granger,” said Harry carefully.

“Wasn't she that bird you kept the picture of on your-”

“Yes,” said Harry quickly.

“Only one child, then?”

“Three,” said Harry, laughing nervously, “Henry here, who's seven, Sarah, who's five, James is almost two, and Hermione's going to give birth to our daughter any day now.”

Seth wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Harry.

“Shut it,” he said quietly.

“I didn't say a word,” replied Seth innocently. “Have you seen Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb yet?”

“Went out for a few drinks with them last night,” responded Harry. “I swear Ben's going to die before he's forty.”

“How long are you here for?”

“No idea. I suppose we'll stay for a few weeks after Lily's born then we'll head home. Apparently my temp at work isn't that great. They'll want me back…”

“You know, the Head position's opening up here. You should apply,” said Seth, his tone becoming suddenly serious. “It really hasn't been the same since you left. You're the best damn Auror to come through here in years.”

“I don't think so,” said Harry finally as he cast a glance down at Henry, who looked at him expectantly. “England's my home. It's their home. I couldn't take that away from them.”

“Well, you should still consider it,” shrugged Seth. “Tell you what. How about you two stick around here for another few hours, have lunch, and we're all heading over to the Stadium on lunch. Why don't you come along?”

Harry nodded vaguely. “I'll consider it.”

“Can we, dad? Please?” begged Henry. “I've never ridden before.”

Harry looked down sharply. “Of course we will. I haven't ridden in almost three years, and you've got to promise me you're not going to tell your mother you were on a broomstick. She'll have kittens.”

“I promise,” laughed Henry. “You know, we probably could fly at home, you can take the day off work and we can go in the backyard.”

It was Harry's turn to laugh. “Alice would tell your mum. We'll go to the stadium in Wiltshire. I've got connections in the Department of Magical Games and Sports at home.”

“Really?!”

“Really.”

True to his word, almost three hours later, and with his arms bracing Henry protectively, Harry's broomstick shot into the clear blue Australian sky. He closed his eyes as the sharp wind blew the hair off his face and allowed his natural Qudditch instincts to over take him. He opened his eyes as he felt Henry nervously tighten his grip on his forearms.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked instantly. “Just say the word and I'll go back down.”

“It was just really speedy,” said Henry quickly. “Just … just don't go that fast.”

“Alright,” Harry assured as he steadied the broomstick.

“How come you didn't play Professional Quidditch?” asked Henry curiously.

“I don't think I would have enjoyed it,” confessed Harry. “I mean, I love the sport, I adored playing it while I was in Hogwarts, but I it was something I couldn't see myself doing as a profession. Remember what I told you earlier?”

Henry nodded. “Partly because of those reasons, and partly because I couldn't stand the attention,” he added with a dry laugh. “I prefer to watch it and shout profanity at it. There's more important things in life than chasing after a shiny gold ball.”

Henry nodded again and remained silent as Harry did a few steady laps around the pitch, ignoring the shouts of his former colleagues as they tossed around a Quaffle. The muffled ringing of Harry's mobile broke their silence. Harry leaned back and gently eased the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.

“Hello?”

“Harry? It's Edward.”

“You sound serious,” laughed Harry nervously. “Is everything okay?”

“It's Hermione.” Harry froze.

“She's alright, right? She and the baby are okay?”

Silence.

“Edward?”

-->

11. Chapter 10

“Hermione fell; they took her to the emergency room. They're about to perform the Caesarean. You need to get here right away.”

“I'm appearating. I've got Henry with me. We'll be there as soon as possible.” Said Harry seriously.

“Dad? What happened?”

“Your mother fell,” he said as he directed the broom towards the ground, “We need to get to the hospital.”

“Is she okay?”

“I hope so,” whispered Harry as he lifted Henry off the broom. “I need you to hold on to me as tight as you can,” he instructed as he hoisted him into his arms. “Don't move. You're going to feel like you're being sucked through a tube, but it'll last for only a second.”

“Okay.”

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in a deserted alley beside the hospital. Exhaling loudly, he jogged inside and ran up to the front desk. The woman looked up in alarm.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“My wife was just brought in. Hermione Potter.” He said quickly; with fear and concern etched over his young face, making him appear older than his twenty-nine years. The woman looked at him sympathetically.

“She's in the ER. Straight down the hall and to your left. There's another desk, tell Holly your name and she'll give you scrubs and let you in immediately.”

“Thank you,” said Harry as he hitched Henry further up his side and tore off down the hall.

“Potter?” asked the young blonde woman from behind the information desk.

“Yes,” said Harry breathlessly.

“Your in-laws are in the waiting room with your other children. Would you like me to take your son down so you can join your wife?”

Harry looked down at Henry who nodded. “Go dad.”

“Harry nodded solemnly and set Henry down and hugged him. “I'll come out as soon as I'm sure everything's, okay. Tell your sister and brother I love them.”

“Make sure mum and Lily are going to be okay.”

Harry nodded and roughly put on the traditional sea-foam green hospital scrubs over his jeans and t-shirt and ran down the hall. He pushed open the doublewide doors and was instantly met by a team of doctors.

“Harry?” called Hermione.

“I'm right here, darling,” said Harry as he pushed through them and joined her side. He had never seen her look so afraid. He quickly grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“Don't you dare apologise,” said Harry as he rested his chin on her knuckles. “It's not your fault.”

“I love you,” she whispered, not breaking their eye contact.

“I know, darling, I know,” he soothed. He cringed as she visibly winced as they made the incision. Harry reached up with his free hand and gently stroked her hair. “It's going to be okay.”

Hermione nodded and reached for his face and pulled him closer to her. A small smile graced her features as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. When Harry pulled away he chanced a glance over the sheet. The nurse behind the doctor gave him an encouraging thumbs up. He looked away.

Suddenly, Hermione gasped and a high-pitched cry filled the air and Harry let out the breath he had been holding. He sat up straight and looked at the doctors expectantly.

“Congratulations, Mr. And Mrs. Potter. You have a baby girl.”

“She's alright? Both of them?” asked Harry seriously.

“They're wonderful. Hermione will have some obvious bruising, and she'll be in a little pain for a while, but she'll make a full recovery. Your daughter is in perfect condition.” He explained as Harry's face dropped into his hands. He refused to let them see him cry. There were few times in his life where he had actually cried. A handful of times when he was a child, when Sirius died, shortly after he left England, when his first son was born, and now.

Harry drew in a shaky breath as Hermione weakly tried to pull his hands away from his face.

“Harry?” she whispered softly.

“Yes love?” he answered finally as he regained his composure. He rubbed his eyes and slowly opened them. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw a tiny pink hand flailing out of a mass of light yellow blankets as the beaming nurse walked towards them. Harry was on his feet instantly and slowly lifted his daughter into his arms.

She was a warm, comfortable weight in his arms. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. She was a whole new being for him to protect, and in the few seconds he had held her, she made it all worthwhile. Harry bit his lip as he gazed down at her. He was vaguely aware of the nurse commenting on her beauty, or Hermione calling him back over to her.

“HARRY JAMES!”

Harry flinched and spun around on his heel, grinning like a hatter to his wife. Harry slowly sat down on the small stool and gently laid their daughter on her chest.

“She's beautiful,” whispered Hermione while she gently stroked her daughters' face with the pad of her thumb.

“Like her mother,” Harry breathed, gently lacing their fingers together.

Hermione gave a weak laugh. “I'm not feeling too attractive right now.”

Harry half-smiled. “You're always radiant, love,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I hate to interrupt, but we need to finish stitching up Mrs. Potter. Mr. Potter, would you mind stepping out for a few moments?” inquired the doctor kindly.

Harry hesitated.

“Take Lily out, darling. I'm sure mum and dad are beside themselves,” said Hermione weakly.

“I don't care. That's the least of my worries,” replied Harry as he gently lifted his daughter back into his arms, causing her wailing to cease instantly. “I want to make sure you're fine until I see anyone.”

“She's in perfect condition, Mr. Potter, I assure you. The reason she fell was because her contractions surprised her. It's nothing to worry about. We just took a compulsory precaution by inducing her labour. Frankly I'm amazed you got here as quickly as you did,” explained the doctor.

Harry laughed nervously. “I'm just concerned about her. I love her to death. The roads were practically empty … it was like magic.”

Hermione exhaled and closed her eyes. Harry looked round at her and sat back down beside her protectively. “Harry, love, I'm going to be fine. Take Lily out to meet her brothers and sister…”

“Are you sure?” asked Harry worriedly.

“Yes, I've told you plenty of times,” she said tiredly. “I'm sure I'll be wheeled up to a ward soon, then just come up with the baby for a while… Mum and dad will understand…”

“Alright,” said Harry reluctantly as he leaned forward and kissed Hermione lightly and smiled faintly at her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you barmy prat,” she whispered, giving him a weak smile.

“I'll see you soon,” Harry replied, kissing her again before straightening up and secured Lily in his arms.

Harry allowed the doctors to take Lily away from him briefly so they could make sure everything was in order before he was allowed to leave the room with her. Finally, his daughter was deemed practically perfect. Harry held her tiny frame protectively to his chest as he walked through the doors. He followed the signs towards the private waiting rooms, and peered into several of them before he caught Helen's eye in the last one. She had James curled up asleep in her arms. Her expression softened as she saw Harry holding the baby. Edward, who was sitting with his back to Harry, slowly turned his head and rose to his feet. Harry half smiled and slowly entered the room. Henry and Sarah looked up from their spot on the floor and quickly scrambled to their feet.

“How's Hermione?” questioned Edward seriously.

“She's fine,” assured Harry. They've just about finished stitching her up. She's very drained … she's not ready to see anyone yet,” he added quietly, so Henry and Sarah couldn't hear. “I think she's still shaken from the whole ordeal.”

Helen nodded understandingly. “Edward and I will bring the children `round tomorrow, then?”

“I think it would be best,” replied Harry, “I'm going to stay here with her tonight if she wants me too.”

“And how's the baby?” asked Helen warmly.

“Fantastic,” said Harry, beaming. “Came out kicking and screaming. Not as bad as James was when he was born … He was a quiet baby … Lily screamed her head off for a good five minutes.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “Lily?” she asked. “You're naming her `Lily'? Isn't that a flower?”

“After my mother,” replied Harry coolly, “It was Hermione's idea.”

“I see,” said Helen as she passed James to Edward as she lifted Lily into her arms and sighed, “well, she is as beautiful as a Lily.”

“Daddy?” asked Sarah softly.

Harry smiled and bent down and lifted Sarah into his arms. “She's tiny,” frowned Sarah. “You said I would be able to play with her.”

“I said you'd be able to play with her a while after she's born, love,” explained Harry. “Do you remember what James was like when we first brought him home?”

“All he did was eat, sleep, and poop in his diaper,” grumbled Sarah. “He wasn't any fun.”

“Well, honey, Lily's going to be like that too. You were like that when you were born, but Henry was too young to remember.”

“Oh. How long is it going to take for her to grow up, daddy? I want to play with my sister.”

Harry laughed. “It's going to be a while, Sarah. I'm sorry, but you're going to be stuck with your brothers for almost a year.”

“What!?” She exclaimed. “That's not fair!”

“That's life, darling,” said Harry, as she wove her arms around his neck, “but I'm sure your mum will definitely want your help with Lily, though. Remember how you liked helping her bathe and dress James when he was born?”

“Yeah. It'll be funner because Lily's a girl,” said Sarah finally as she peered at her sister's sleeping face. “Her hair's brown like mine and mum's,” she commented happily.

“She's got green eyes like James and I. She's going to grow up to be very beautiful, like you,” whispered Harry as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Dad?” said Henry finally.

“Yes, Henry?”

“She's not going to be as boring as James was when you brought him home, is she?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“That stinks.”

“I'm sorry, Henry. But all babies are like that.”

“When are we going to get to see mum?” he asked finally.

Harry exhaled as he took Lily back in his arms. “Tomorrow, Henry. Your mother's very tired.”

“How come we can't see her tonight, daddy?” questioned Sarah innocently. “Doesn't she want to see us?”

“Of course she does, Sarah … but like I said, she's very tired and needs a lot of rest. She'll be feeling a lot better in the morning, and will be more up to it.”

“Oh. Are you staying at home with us?”

“I'm probably going to come home after you're in bed, sweetheart,” whispered Harry as he bent down and gave her a one armed hug. “But if you want to sleep in the big bed in our room, you can, okay?” he whispered in her ear.

“Really?” she whispered back excitedly.

“Yes,” nodded Harry, “Just be very, very quiet.”

“Okay.” She whispered, hugging her father and placed and extremely gentle kiss on her sister's cheek.

“See you later, dad,” said Henry as he hugged Harry briefly around the middle before turning back to his Martin: The Mad Muggle comic, which had been disguised as a Muggle Superman by Harry before they left England.

“Tell mummy I love her,” called Sarah as a nurse appeared at the door to lead Harry up to Hermione's hospital room.

“I will,” Harry said as he tightened his grip on his tiny pink daughter. .

Hermione opened her eyes as Harry entered her hospital room, Lily clutched protectively in his arms. He quickly ignored the nurse and bee-lined towards her. She smiled faintly as she took a quietly fussing Lily into her arms. Hermione gently stroked the top of her head, silently enjoying the feeling of her soft wisps of brown hair against her palm.

“She's amazing, Harry.” She whispered finally.

Harry nodded and wove his arm around her shoulder and buried his face in her neck.

“I was so frightened,” he whispered, “When your father called… I was so scared I lost both of you…”

“I think they over exaggerated,” admitted Hermione quietly. “I know they were just being cautious by inducing my labour, but I'm positive I could've carried Lily to term…”

“You're both fine,” said Harry finally, “and that's what matters most.”

“How did everyone react?”

“Your mother got strangely defensive when I said we had named her Lily,” said Harry.

“Really?” replied Hermione, clearly surprised.

“Yes. James was asleep, Henry and Sarah were ecstatic, your father was well, emotionless as usual-”

“-Harry-”

“And your mother was happy otherwise.”

Hermione exhaled and gazed fondly down at Lily, who gazed back at her with the same startling green eyes as her brother and father.

x-x-x-x-x

Three days later, Hermione and Lily were permitted to return home. Now, two weeks later, they had finally gotten used to having a new baby again in their household. To her parent's utmost relief, Lily was perfectly comfortable in her nursery, with its large bay window that over looked the ocean. Like most babies, she never slept all night. Harry got up with her most nights, so Hermione could have some much-needed rest. On occasion, they both got up with her, and Hermione secretly cherished these moments.

Lately, she had noticed that Harry seemed troubled. She hadn't had a chance to inquire him about it, as they were constantly busy with their children, and her mother seemed to be popping up at the most inconvenient of times. Hermione soon found herself guiltily counting the days until her parents returned to Scotland.

Hermione was brought out of her musing by Harry's slightly chapped lips on her shoulder as he slid into bed beside her.

“I tried not to wake you,” whispered Harry.

“I had to use the loo,” she explained.

“Is everything alright, Hermione?” he asked worriedly as she slid comfortably into his embrace.

“I should be asking you that, love,” said Hermione snuggling into the comforting cradle of his chest.

She felt Harry tense.

“What is it, Harry? Don't think I haven't noticed…”

“When Henry and I went into the Ministry the other day, Seth Green … he's the assistant head of the Department … he sort of flaunted that the Head position was opening up here and hinted that I should take it … I brushed it off because Henry was with me, and I didn't want him to come back here and mouth off to Edward and Helen about it. But Seth sent me a package the other day via owl, and it contained the application form and the informational packet. I wanted to talk it over with you to see what you thought about it. I didn't want to make any decisions without your input.”

“It would require us to move here, wouldn't it?”

“No,” said Harry honestly. “We could stay in England, but I would be here for two weeks, and home for two weeks. I couldn't live like that. I couldn't be away from the kids for that long, you know? It wouldn't be fair to the department. It'd be my luck that something happened when I was in England.”

Hermione pulled away and propped her head up on her elbow and studied her husband's face.

“You miss it here, don't you?” it seemed more of an accusation than a question.

Harry chose this moment to roll on his back and gently rub his eyes with his fingertips.

“I do, sometimes,” he said finally. “I just got so used to the climate and the way of life here. I know I don't have to worry about someone hounding me for an autograph or trying to get a picture of my baby. That's why I stayed here for so long.”

“Take pictures of your baby?” repeated Hermione.

“I don't have problem going out in public with James or Lily here. Because no one gives a flying fuck about Harry Potter.”

“I see,” replied Hermione as she slumped back into her pillows. “Do you want to take the job?”

“I honestly don't know, darling,” said Harry as he inched towards her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “We have a life in England. It's a wonderful life. I couldn't ask for anything more.”

“I want to enrol Henry and Sarah in Grammar School,” Hermione suddenly blurted out. “I want them to have muggle friends. I don't want them just interacting with wizards all the time. We don't have many Wizarding friends with children their age. It'd do them good.”

“I think that's a wonderful idea,” said Harry, looking up at her, smiling. “I don't think they enjoy being home schooled.”

“They love it here, you know. Sarah told me last night when I tucked her in,” she whispered as she ran her hands up her husband's bare back.

“Do you want me to take it, Hermione?” Harry breathed in her ear as he pulled her closer to him.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “It'd be a welcome change for all of us. We'd just leave that … that bullshit behind us.”

“What about your store, love? You adore it.”

“I know. I'll still own it … but I have been thinking of getting a new job … something more challenging.”

“At the Ministry?”

“I was thinking Foreign Affairs. Since I'm not a native Australian, I ought to be perfect for the job.”

“I'll think about it,” said Harry finally as Hermione shifted her position and wove her arms around her neck and rested her head comfortably in his chest.

“I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you, love.” Whispered Hermione.

“You're not,” assured Harry. “I've been thinking about it for months … I started missing Sydney … I wasn't sure of how you'd take it.”

“Why is that?”

“I over reacted, I guess,” he admitted laughing softly, “I wasn't sure what you'd think. Me coming back here…” he gestured helplessly.

“Might have made me think you were leaving again,” finished Hermione.

Harry nodded.

“You're wrong. I would've understood Harry. You lived here for nearly eleven years. You had a life here.”

Harry remained silent.

“Harry?”

“Sometimes I think about what it would be like if I hadn't have left,” he confessed, not meeting her gaze, “and not once did I ever see myself living past twenty.”

Hermione stared at him, obviously shocked. “Why would you even think like that?”

“I didn't think it, Hermione … I know it. During the war … you were what I was fighting for. I couldn't stand to see you live in a world like that … everyone living in constant fear that someone was going to show up on their doorstep because of what their blood-linage was or whom they were married to. I just couldn't. For a while, I had this dream that somehow we both came out of that whole thing unscathed, and I just pulled you into my arms and …”

“And what?”

“…Told you I loved you.”

Hermione smiled sympathetically and gently stroked his rough cheek with her palm.

“I would've left him for you in a heartbeat. You know that.”

“And I was seventeen, your boyfriend had just proposed, what did you expect me to do? He was my best mate for Christ sakes!”

“Harry…”

“I'm going outside for a fag,” he muttered, sliding out of their bed, leaving her staring at him wide eyed.

Harry quickly slid into his discarded jeans and shrugged a light button down over his shoulders and produced a pack of cigarettes and matches from his jacket and left the room without another word. The entire house was dark as he quietly walked down the steps past James's room and out the front door.

He stopped momentarily to ignite the flame and he inhaled deeply. It must've been months since his last one. Harry walked further down the beach and slowly lowered himself into the sand and calmly stared out across the ocean.

“You know it's not smart to come out here alone at night, in spite of how many dark wizards you've killed,” came Hermione's soft voice from behind him.

Harry lifted his head as Hermione carefully sat herself between his legs for warmth.

“You shouldn't be out here. Not in your condition,” he said quietly as she leaned back into his chest.

“Fuck off, Harry,” she whispered taking the wilted cigarette from between his fingers and lifted it to her lips. “You're not the only one around here who smokes in secret, you know.”

“I quit for the longest time,” he argued, “just recently with all the stress…”

“I know, Harry … I know.”

“You didn't while you were pregnant with Lily or James, did you?”

“No, love, I didn't. I haven't been that desperate.”

“Alright,” whispered Harry as he took a final drag and threw it out into the waves.

“It's beautiful out here tonight,” commented Hermione.

“Yeah,” said Harry distractingly.

“Are you alright?”

“I'm sorry about earlier,” he said, “I just… I don't know. Just the whole thing with Ron is starting to get to me, you know? I can't help but feel just a little guilty.”

“You shouldn't.”

“I can't help it, sometimes … I mean, I just showed up one day after being away for ten years, and three weeks later I'm fucking his wife.”

“We weren't married then.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I understand, Harry. I felt horrible for the longest time. I was so much happier with you, and Ron saw it. He saw me light up when you walked into the room; smile when you spoke … I never did that for him. I didn't feel the need to when I was married to him. How do you think that made me feel? I would've left my husband of ten years- whom I had two children with- for a man I hadn't seen or heard from in almost eleven? It was almost as if I had been cheating on him, not the other way around. Merlin, Harry … every time I kissed him I wished it was you. Every time I made love to him, I closed my eyes and it was you I saw. I felt like I was betraying you every moment I was with him. And when you came home … I would've been with you in a heartbeat. I would have just taken Henry and Sarah and left.

“We were fighting so much towards the end. There were nights I used to take Henry and Sarah and stay at the flat above my shop because I couldn't stand to look at him. I almost bought tickets to come down here to you. I wouldn't have made you come home, I would've stayed down here and started a new life with you…”

She finally looked up at Harry expectantly, and he stared back at him, his expression incredibly softened, making him look far younger than his 29 years.

“If I had known…” he choked out as he pulled her body closer to his, “I would've flown you down here myself… We could've had so many years…”

“That's why we need to stay,” she whispered quickly wiping her tears out of her eyes. “I love England to death, but I need to get out of there. No Weasleys. I can't be around them right now. I can't keep making up excuses to not go to dinner on Sunday. They must be catching on … It's too awkward.”

“They'll think we're taking Henry and Sarah away from them.”

“I know. And I don't want to think like that. But if their father isn't going to be around… I can't be around his family. It reminds me too much of him, and I don't want to be reminded of that period of my life…”

“Hermione…”

“I'm serious, Harry. I want to start over. Here. With you and our children.”

“When do your parents leave?'

“The day after next.”

“We'll tell Henry and Sarah after they're gone. I'll put in my final notice in England. We can look for a home here, then go back to England and sell the house there…”

“I want you to show me the place where you lived while you were here.”

“It's not big enough for all of us.”

“I don't want to live in it, I just want to see it.”

“After your parents leave.”

“Alright.”

“We should go back inside. Lily might wake.”

Hermione nodded and allowed Harry to carefully lift her into his arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered gratefully as he draped his arm over her shoulder.

“No problem,” he replied, kissing the top of her head as they headed back towards their home. “So, darling, where would you like to live? In the city or in the outskirts?”

“I like it where we are. We're close to a beach, there's proper schools in the area…”

“We can look at all of that later, love.”

“We should check on Lily and James before we turn in.”

“Yes,” agreed Harry.

Hermione smiled and laced their fingers together as they crept silently into their villa. Harry laid his hand on the doorknob and swung it open and stepped into his son's room. His face visibly softened upon seeing his son's sleeping form. He and Hermione silently walked into the dark room and looked into the crib and smiled upon seeing their son sleeping peacefully.

“He's wonderful, Harry, he really is,” whispered Hermione as she smoothed out his black hair.

“I never thought we'd have him, or Lily.” Replied Harry honestly.

“Do you want to have more children?” she asked him, arching an eyebrow.

“Do you want to have more children?” he repeated seriously. “Henry's nearing eight, Sarah's nearing six, and James is almost two, and Lily's barely two weeks old. Do you think this is the time to discuss this? At two am at that?”

Hermione laughed softly, “I suppose you're right,” she said, “But I would like to have at least one more, for the record.”

Harry smiled and held her close to him in the corridor, “I'll be happy to oblige.”

Hermione giggled. “I'm happy you are. It'd be incredibly tough to do it alone.”

“We won't go into technicalities, love.”

“Let's not.”

“It's amazing how she suddenly feels the need to sleep all the time when we're awake, but as soon as we fall asleep, she's screaming her head off,” said Harry conversationally as he picked up his sleeping daughter and slowly sat down on the small sofa that had been placed in the room.

“When Sarah was born, she was exactly the same way,” explained Hermione, “mum said I was like that too.”

“Then it's a Granger thing,” said Harry, grinning, “James sleeps practically all night now.”

“And that's a Potter thing,” Hermione replied mockingly, “all Potter men can sleep through anything.”

“I've been blessed,” said Harry dryly as he passed Lily to Hermione, who smiled down at her fondly. “Your hair looks nice.”

“I didn't think you noticed,” replied Hermione without looking up.

“Of course I noticed. I went to run my fingers through it earlier and half of it was gone.”

“It was getting a little to heavy so I had it cut while I was in town with mum today.”

“It looks lovely.”

“Did you not like it long?”

“I loved it long. I love it this way … just don't cut it any shorter.”

“The same goes for you, Mr. Potter.”

“Whatever, darling.”

Hermione shook her head as Harry stood up and stretched, causing his shirt to ride up over his abdomen. She stared.

“What?” said Harry, clearly amused.

“N-n-nothing…” she said incoherently as he lifted Lily out of her arms and lovingly placed a kiss to her forehead.

Damn him for having this type of effect on her.

“You were staring at my abdomen, weren't you?” questioned Harry innocently, “I haven't got sand on me or anything-” he continued, slowly lifting up the hem of his shirt past his navel.

“Harry, we're in our daughter's bedroom,” Hermione cut in, grabbing him by his arm and roughly shoved him into the hallway.

“I didn't do anything wrong,” he whispered in her ear as she loosely took his hand and led him into their bedroom.

“I've missed you,” she murmured against his lips, her fingers resting on the buttons of his shirt.

“I've been with you for nearly three years straight, how could you miss me?” he replied as he rested his fingers on her hips.

“You know what I mean.”

Harry grinned wickedly and pressed his lips to hers and slowly picked her up and carried her to their bed. Hermione sighed contently inwardly as she allowed Harry to slip his fingers into the waistband of her grey cotton trousers and slide them down her legs. Hermione temporarily broke their kiss to unbutton his top and push it roughly off his shoulders and throw it across the room to an undisclosed location. Harry smiled lazily at her before reclaiming her mouth with his.

x-x-x-x-x

The next few days seemed to be going by agonisingly slow. Finally, Hermione's parents said a tearful goodbye to their grandchildren, daughter, and son-in-law before returning to their home in Scotland. It was that night they decided they were going to tell Henry and Sarah they were going to stay.

Hermione wanted to make sure everything went as smoothly as possible. The last thing she and Harry needed were two upset children, on top of James, who was starting to enter the “terrible two's” phase, and Lily, who had been giving them sleepless nights. It was apparent that Harry and Hermione Potter had their hands full.

When they sat down to dinner that night, Henry had sensed some unease and discomfort with his parents, and had a hunch that it had nothing to do with his new baby sister. He silently watched as his father slid into the chair beside his mother at the end of the table and exchanged a glance with her, and almost immediately an unreadable expression graced her face.

“How was Lily?” asked Hermione softly.

“She was wonderful,” replied Harry.

“Henry … Sarah, there's something your father and I want to discuss with you,” said Hermione seriously.

“We didn't do anything, mum,” said Sarah immediately.

“It's got nothing to do with you, darling,” assured Harry. “On the contrary, it's us.”

“Okay,” said Henry slowly.

“I've been offered a job back here in Australia,” began Harry seriously, “it's the same job as I do in England, just probably with more benefits. I've already talked to your mother about it, and I'm going to accept it.”

“So are you leaving?” said Henry immediately.

“No. Of course not.” Said Harry. “It would involve all of us moving here.”

“Oh.”

“What about grandma Molly and papa Arthur?” asked Sarah.

“We can go back and visit them,” promised Hermione. “As much as we can.”

“Okay … what about your job, mum?”

“I've applied for a job in International Affairs in the Ministry,” explained Hermione, “it's something I've always been interested in.”

“Oh.”

“Are you two okay with this?”

“Yeah, we like it here, mum,” said Henry, shrugging as he took a large bite of mashed potato.

Hermione exhaled with relief and looked at Harry, who smiled faintly at her.

“Second item on the list … after we get settled in here, we were thinking about enrolling you two in school,” said Hermione.

“Like, regular muggle school?” asked Henry.

“Yes, love. It'll be the same thing that Mrs. Lyle teaching you at home. You'll just be with other children.”

“That'd be great, mum.” Replied Henry honestly. “So are we like, staying here, in this house? Or are we going to move into a different one?”

“We're not sure yet, Henry,” said Harry as he tried to feed James a small spoonful of squash. “Your mother and I will look around the area for one. If not, we'll just keep renting this place until we find something we like.”

“Oh. We're not going to live in another flat, are we?”

Harry laughed, “No Henry. I think we've all lived in enough flats.”

“Good. I like having the yard.”

-->

12. Epilogue

Finally two months later, they had everything finalised. The English ministry had tried their hardest to get Harry to stay, but Harry had politely declined seven times and left them with “I'd rather be working there in November, anyway. No snow.” With that, Harry had magically cleaned out his desk, said goodbye to his fellow aurors, and had left England two weeks later with Hermione and their kids.

They had quietly gone through a Wizarding adoption process to make Henry and Sarah legally Harry's children, and to their relief, the Daily Prophet hadn't caught wind of it. When Hermione had submitted two applications for Henry and Sarah to attend the Sydney Grammar School, she proudly wrote `Henry Arthur Potter' and `Sarah Louise Jane Potter'. The Headmaster of the school had contacted them within a fortnight, and had scheduled a meeting with Harry and Hermione for the following week.

To their surprise, Alice, their nanny, had declared that she would too, move to Australia so she could help Hermione with James and Lily while she was still on her maternity leave. Harry had purchased a spacious home outside the city with seven bedrooms, but had made plans to knock out a wall and combine two rooms to make a large combination room of library and offices for Hermione and himself. Sarah was completely thrilled to find out that there was a pool in their backyard; like most of the homes in their neighbourhood had, along with a slide and a large, spacious green lawn.

Harry had started working the ministry, and Hermione silently noted that he seemed far happier working with his former colleagues again. It had confirmed her suspicions he had missed living and working there than he had let her believe. The International Relations department had graciously welcomed the infamous Hermione Granger into their department, and had immediately placed her in the research division, and it immediately became something she enjoyed. It was a welcomed change from working in her bookstore, which after some heavy negotiating had become a division of Flourish & Blotts.

It was obvious that Lily was Hermione's daughter. She looked uncannily like both Sarah and Hermione had as babies, and the only thing that she bared resemblance with her father was her emerald green eyes. Harry wasted no time doting on his new little girl. He was overjoyed with her sheer presence in his life. James adored his baby sister. She was a new, fascinating thing for him to hold and prod at. Harry made sure that none of their children felt neglected in any way. It was obvious he was trying his hardest to be a good husband and father to four children and run a department at the Ministry of Magic.

x-x-x-x-x

On the day he and Hermione were to meet with the headmaster, Harry had been running behind on everything. Between being stuck in a board meeting that he really had no concern about and getting home to meet Hermione, he had told her he would have to meet her at the school, and she reluctantly agreed.

The only good thing that seemed to come was the weather. He enjoyed the constant sunshine and warmth. He had been so nervous that Henry and Sarah would have trouble adjusting to a new country and climate, as like he was, were English born and bred. If they were discontent living in Australia, they did not show it in front of their parents. They had even become friends with a few of the children in the neighbourhood, a few of whom were already attending the Grammar school.

Harry knew he was going to be late by the time he appearated into the foyer of his home. As usual, James came bounding out of the sitting room to meet him. Harry picked up his son, said a quick hello to Alice before bounding off up the stairs to change out of his ministry robes. He threw his robes carelessly on the floor and stepped into his closet. He set James down on the large ottoman that was in the centre and quickly changed into a pair of kakis and a white button down shirt and slid into a pair of comfortable shoes. He picked up James again and bounded back down the staircase. He handed his struggling son over to the nanny and quickly climbed into his car. Harry backed out of the driveway and sped off down the street. He glanced at the illuminated clock on the dashboard and gently pressed the gas pedal a little harder with his foot.

Finally, fifteen minutes later and almost a half-an-hour late, Harry pulled the car into a vacant parking space and clambered out of his vehicle. He locked the doors quickly and jammed the keys into the pocket of his trousers and jogged up to the main entrance. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and straightened his posture and slowly entered the building. He silently followed the signs that directed him to the back of the building towards the administration. He was fully aware that a few members of the female staff had their eyes on him and he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor as he heard whispers of “whose father is he?” and “I've never seen him at any of the PTA meetings”.

Harry pushed open the door to the office and the serious looking woman behind the desk looked up immediately.

“Can I help you?”

“My wife, Hermione Potter is already here. I'm supposed to be meeting with the headmaster.”

“Ah. Mr. Potter, we weren't sure if you were going to show. Right down that tiny corridor and Headmaster Freedman's office is the first door on your right.”

“Thank you, miss,” said Harry gratefully as he turned away from her and disappeared down the corridor. He soon found himself staring at a highly polished ancient oak door. He balled his fist up into a ball and knocked. He heard shuffling from the inside.

Seconds later, Harry was face-to-face with a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind face. “Harry Potter, I presume?”

“Yes sir. I'm assuming you're Headmaster Freedman?”

“Yes, yes I am. Come in. Your wife refused to let our meeting begin until you arrived.”

“I'm dreadfully sorry about my lateness,” said Harry as he took his place beside Hermione, “I was stuck in a seminar at work … you know how they are in the government buildings … won't let anyone leave until they've had their say…”

“You work for the government?” inquired Freedman conversationally.

“Yes,” said Harry confidently, “I work with the head of National Security.”

“As in you're one of his assistants?”

“No. I'm one of the head coordinators for security… We're a quiet organization that's a small division from the Australian Government. You could say we're almost like our own government in our own little way.”

“Does your job take you away from your family?”

“No sir, it doesn't. I can be with my family as much as I want, especially now. It's a blessing to have it.”

“And you, Mrs. Potter?”

“I work for International Affairs … I'm the same as my husband. I'm off on maternity leave at the moment, but when I return, I'll have enough time to help Henry and Sarah with their homework and support them in their schooling, as will Harry.”

“How many children are in your household?”

“Four,” answered Harry, “Henry, nine, Sarah, seven, James, 22 months, and Lily, about two and a half months.”

“It says in your application that you recently adopted Henry and Sarah.”

“Yes,” said Harry, “Henry and Sarah were Hermione's from a previous marriage. Their father hasn't been around, and after a lot of consulting between Hermione, the children and I, we thought it would be the best thing to do.”

“I see,” replied Freedman as he made a note on his paper. “And for security reasons for the children, could we have the name of their birth father in case he was to contact our school?”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley,” responded Hermione, “he is aware that he isn't allowed contact with his children unless supervised.”

“James and Lily are yours, Harry?”

“Yes, sir. There's no reason why Ronald would want to contact them. They are far to young to attend school, anyway.”

“Well, I've reviewed Henry's test scores from the past few years that he's been home schooled, and it's apparent that he's very intelligent, and would fit in well with the school. Sarah also passed her entrance exam with flying colours. We'd be proud to have them in the Sydney Grammar School.”

Hermione let out the breath she'd been holding and looked at Harry lovingly. “Thank you, thank you so much, Mr. Freedman,” she said appreciatively.

“No, thank you, Mrs. and Mr. Potter. If you could kindly bring Henry and Sarah in at your earliest convenience we'll get them set up with a uniform and timetable.”

“Hermione or I will probably place a call into the office tomorrow with a time suitable for all of us,” said Harry as he shook his hand and silently led Hermione out the door.

Harry smiled as he felt Hermione slip her hand in his as they walked towards their designated vehicles.

“I'll see you at home, love,” said Harry, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips before she brushed hers against his.

Harry smiled and gave her hand a small squeeze and unlocked the door to his car as she slid into her own. Sighing, Harry slowly slid his key into the ignition and turned on the car and backed out of his parking space and onto the freeway.

x-x-x-x-x

“Harry, wake up,” Hermione whispered as she sat down on her husband's side of the bed, which he was currently half hanging off of. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly three am.

“No,” he groaned, shifting his position so his back was facing her.

“Harry, it's important, please.” She continued, resting her hand on his lightly freckled shoulder.

“Are the kids okay?” he asked groggily as he struggled to sit up.

“They're fine, love. I just fed Lily. She went straight to sleep.”

“What's going on then?”

“Promise me you won't be mad.”

“Nothing's broken, is it?”

Hermione laughed and shook her head as she slid further onto the bed beside him and drew her knees up to her chest. “Promise me you won't be mad.”

“I promise,” he said honestly as he smiled faintly at her.

“I'm pregnant,” she blurted out.

Harry's head immediately dropped into his hands.

“Hermione we-”

“Just had Lily, I know.”

“Are you sure?”

“I've known for a week.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-”

“We're going to have five fucking kids!” he said loudly as he climbed out the bed and began pacing the room. “Five Hermione, five!”

“I know that-” she said helplessly.

“Lily's not even three months old, Hermione!”

“I know that, Harry!” she said, raising her voice slightly, “I didn't get here on my own, in case you've forgotten.”

“I'm sorry,” he said finally as he gathered her in his arms. “I'm just surprised.”

“I am too. I mean, we were trying to have Lily, this one, is well, so unexpected…” she whispered as he gently laid her on their bed and sat down beside her.

“We want this, right?” he asked her seriously.

“I suppose one more couldn't hurt.”

“Five…” he whispered hoarsely into her hair as she held onto his neck tightly.

“I know, Harry,” said Hermione soothingly.

“I've been married for nearly three years, and I have five children. How is that even possible?” he asked her finally.

“Two are mine, and we shag far too much,” replied Hermione as she idly ran her fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” he whispered as he slowly brought her body flush against his.

“I know you do,” she responded kissing the side of his rough jaw, “and all five million of our children.”

“Mum!” shouted Henry from the other side of the door.

Hermione scrambled away from Harry and quickly wrenched open the door to see a tousled-haired Henry.

“Yes, darling?”

“Grandma Molly's calling in via floo downstairs,” he yawned.

“Come on, Henry, I'll walk you back to your room. Harry, go see what Molly needs.”

“Alright,” responded Harry as he untangled himself from the sheets and climbed out of the bed. He grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and yanked it over his head. He silently watched as Hermione lifted Henry into her arms and silently walked out of the room. Sighing, Harry ran his fingers loosely through his hair and exited the bedroom. He quickly peered into James's room, and his son was still sound asleep.

Harry rounded the corner on the stairs and saw indeed that their sitting room was bright with flames dancing off the wall. Sure enough, in the grate Molly Weasley's head was floating amongst the flames as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Hello, Molly,” called Harry as he stepped into the sitting room and sat down in the chair across from the grate.

“Lovely sitting room, Harry,” she commented.

“Hermione's work.” He replied.

“I see. How's Lily?”

“Amazing. She just went back to sleep, I'm sorry.” He explained.

“What time is it there?”

“Nearly three thirty am.”

“Merlin, Harry I apologise-”

“It's alright, Molly. Hermione and I were up with the baby. It's quite alright.”

“Hello Molly,” said Hermione as she slid onto Harry's lap. He flashed her a brief smile.

“Hello Hermione. How're you?”

“I'm coming along nicely, thank you. It's just been so hard trying to lose the post-baby weight…”

“I gave up after Fred and George,” she laughed, “I knew it was hopeless.”

Hermione laughed nervously. “Well, Lily is my forth…”

“Are you two going to have any more children?”

Harry glanced at Hermione and shook his head. “We're fine for now. We've got our hands full…”

“How are Henry and Sarah?”

“They love it here,” replied Hermione honestly. “Sarah loves the `constant summer' in November. They'll be starting at the local Grammar school in Sydney soon, then they'll be sent off to Hogwarts.”

“Will you move back to England for them to do so?”

“We haven't really discussed that yet,” said Harry, “we'll probably deal with it when the time comes. What will most likely happen is that we'll come home for the holidays so the kids can see their families. We felt horrible taking Henry and Sarah away.”

“We all understood that you needed to go, Harry dear,” said Molly seriously. “So much had happened … it was almost like one of those muggle soap operas that Helen watches…”

“Yes,” agreed Hermione. “It's lovely here. The weather is so beautiful, and the people here are absolutely wonderful. “James is just growing so fast … he's almost speaking perfect English with the books Harry and I have been reading him…”

“A true Granger.”

“Yes,” laughed Harry.

“I should get going to bed… I apologise again for my timing…”

“It's quite all right, Molly, it was wonderful to hear from you,” said Hermione honestly.

x-x-x-x-x

They were determined to make Helena and Ingrid's second birthday a low-key affair. Harry and Hermione had taken the week off of work and pulled Henry and Sarah out of classes so they could take a small family vacation in Melbourne. The past years had been good to them; Harry and Hermione were in a state of shock when they had found out from a healer that they should prepare for two new additions to their family, instead of one. Harry more so than Hermione, as he then realised he had to raise six children before the age of thirty five, as he so seriously put it in his rant on the way home in the car while Hermione glowed with sheer adoration and pride.

It was also then Harry decided to be placed under a temporary infertility charm until he and Hermione decided for some crazy reason, they wanted another child, and this suited them just fine.

When Hermione went into labour in early July, Harry nearly died when the healers informed them that there were complications with their pregnancy, and there was a chance one of their children might not make it. Harry could be heard shouting profanities at their healer to do something or he would experience something few before him had witnessed. Terrified, Healer Anderson did the best job he could at explaining to Harry that he would do his best to make sure both babies came out healthy and alive.

Finally, at half past two am, Helena Rosalyn and Ingrid Harriet Potter were brought into the world, safe, healthy and alive, and Healer Anderson's life spared. Hermione had determinedly made Harry write a detailed letter of apology to Healer Anderson saying that he had over reacted and had donated an undisclosed amount of money to the hospital to show his appreciation for bringing Helena and Ingrid into the world safely.

Lily had grown to look more and more like Hermione every day, and had even been `blessed' with the same bushy hair as her mother and sister. James, on the other hand, was a tiny replica of Harry, down to the last out of place lock of jet-black hair on his four-year-old head. Harry spoiled all of his children more than necessary, and he knew Hermione disapproved of it, and it was apparent that he didn't care the least bit. He had plainly put it to her one day, as they were his children too, and he could spoil them if he felt like it.

And it was now Harry believed that his life was complete. He had a wife that loved him, and he loved her, and a family he adored. Finally, he believed, he could move along.

AN: I know the ending came a lot sooner than expected, and I admit, it came upon me too

Thank you so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much to everyone who has supported me and urged me to write more. Thanks to everyone who reviewed to the story. I replied to almost all of the reviews at the beginning of the story, but as it progressed, I kinda slagged off because I was partially lazy, and overwhelmed with more reviews than I'm used to receiving (I also write on ff.net).

I started writing this story in mid-June 2006 because it was a welcomed difference from studying for my final exams in high school. I finally got the guts to post it on fanfiction.net in late August, and I have never regretted a moment of it.

So I guess, without further ado, I close `Move Along'.

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