Desperate

EmotionlessNightmare

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 05/02/2007
Last Updated: 22/03/2007
Status: paused

Brought together again after years of separation, Harry and Hermione strive to know eachother again for the sake of another.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter 1

3. Chapter 2

4. Chapter 3

5. Author's Note

1. Prologue

Hold Me
You've done it now
Now send me way out
I feel insecure
And Desperate
But not right now
I feel it now
And you don't see
The way I see
I've got it now
I'm desperate

-Desperate, The Killers (Hot Fuss 2004)

He stared down at the tiny child that was lying peacefully in the crib before him. The child had tiny wisps of brown hair, and was sure to have deep brown eyes to match. Creamy white skin, he was sure the tiny infant would grow into a beautiful being. Just like her mother.

There was some distant, voice in the back of his head telling him what he was doing was right, even though he was convincing himself that he was doing wrong, and he shouldn’t be helping her. Not after what she did to him. This was not his child. Hell, he knew nothing about being a good role model or a good parent. He wasn’t cut out to be father-like material. Yet, here he was, staring down at this child that was going to be partially his responsibility now because he wasn’t thinking three hours earlier.

His eyes flickered over to the sleeping woman across the room. Her hair was slightly matted, but she was sleeping peacefully. He should have softened at the sight of her, but somehow, he didn’t. He knew he should make sure that her child was fine, and then tend to her. He was her last resort, and even though it hadn’t been voiced, he knew it. They had not spoken to each other in years; they had moved on, forgotten about each other.

But there was always that one part of him that wondered ‘what if?’. Merlin, she had moved to America, married some muggle, and then he received an urgent owl to come to the Ministry of Magic.

He flinched as the child started whimpering. He glanced at the woman on the couch, and back to the child. She deserved sleep, and he wasn’t going to deprive her of it. Sighing, he leaned forward in his seat and slowly lifted the child out of its bassinet and securely into his arms. It’s crying grew louder, and he cringed and meekly attempted to quiet the child. He reached up with his left hand and gently cupped her warm, soft face, and to his relief, she quieted.

Sighing, he slowly exited the room and walked down the smooth oak staircase, his shoes squeaking slightly as he descended. He walked through the spacious sitting room and into the kitchen. He glanced around and quickly found the discarded bag that had come with mother and child. He un-zippered the powder-pink diaper bag with one hand, while supporting the child with the other. He rooted around in the bag and finally, his lean fingers grasped their goal: the cool glass bottle of milk.

Withdrawing it, he carefully placed it on the granite counter top and lifted the cap off with ease and tossed it carelessly to the side. He lifted it into his grasp and offered it to the child, who took it eagerly. He leaned against the counter as she drank in silence.

“What are you doing?” her voice was so demanding.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” was his response.

“She’s-”

“-fine, I assure you.”

“You’re inexperienced,” she responded flatly as she lifted her daughter out of his arms and into her own.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t know anything,” he countered.

Silence and an arched eyebrow was his reply.

Shaking his head, he turned away from her and stared out across the spacious grounds of his home.

“Are your rooms to your liking? I didn’t have much time to prepare for anything. No one normally stays here but me.”

“They’re fine, I can adjust Sienna’s room if it becomes necessary myself. You needn’t worry.”

He nodded and ran his fingers through his slightly long tresses.

“You need a hair cut,” she commented.

“I’m getting around to it,” said he, “I haven’t exactly had time. This is the first time I’ve been home in nearly four months.”

“Where have you been?”

“Greece,” he responded, “working.”

She nodded and turned away from him, sighing inaudibly. She chanced a glance over her shoulder at him, and he was still staring out the window, with his hands shoved deep within his pockets.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry shifted comfortably in his semi-conscious state. For those few blissful moments when he couldn’t remember the previous day’s events, he was thankful. As they came rushing back to him, he found himself wishing he were still fast asleep.

He hadn’t had a chance to finish his morning tea when the owl came zooming into his kitchen as he read the morning paper. Hell, he hadn’t been home for twenty-four hours and they were already requesting his ‘immediate presence’. He had scrawled back he was going to finish his tea and shower before heading in. He knew it would irritate them beyond belief, but it was his time, and he was going to do what he wanted with it.

Finally an hour later, he strolled into the Ministry of Magic, saying quick ‘hellos’ to a few of his co-workers before he entered the Auror Department. He strode towards the back and abruptly stopped in front of his own office, where the door was slightly ajar.

Frowning slightly, he laid his hand on the door, and it pushed open, revealing the head of the department, Richard Sutcliffe, and a dark haired woman. He was struck by her beauty, then realised she had a child in her arms. He blinked then turned away from her, and met the steely gaze of his boss.

“Mind explaining to me why I’ve been called in on my day off?” he asked, leaning against the wall, which had been plastered with a map of England, and had various magical glowing dots.

“Surely you recognise this young woman,” began Sutcliffe, gesturing to the woman standing beside him.

Harry looked up, and met her intense gaze, it was almost as if she was mocking him, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Hermione,” he said bluntly.

“Hello Harry,” she said softly.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Sutcliffe took a deep breath and met Harry’s hard stare.

“Mrs Ashdale’s husband, Robert, was murdered approximately twelve hours ago while they were staying with Mrs Ashdale’s parents in Brighton. We have reason to believe that they were attacked by rogue Death Eaters,” he explained.

Harry nodded, showing his understandment. “I understand, and I offer Mrs Ashdale my sincerest apologies,” he said, not looking at her, “but what do I have to do with this?”

“Harry, I need you to understand that Hermione has been out of our world for some time, I’m sure you realise this,” explained Sutcliffe seriously, “and that’s where you come in.”

“With all to respect, Sutcliffe, you promised-”

“I know I promised you six months off because you’ve been going non-stop for the past year and a half, Merlin knows boy you need it, and you will have it, but we need to ask a rather large favour of you.”

“Ah,” he said knowingly.

“It’s not known that Mrs. Ashdale has a child by Robert, and if that was found out, there is quite a large possibility they will go after their daughter. We need you to marry-”

“Are you serious?” he said loudly, straightening up. “I can’t-”

“-to marry, and try and pass their daughter off as yours and Hermione’s.”

“You agreed to this?” he asked her quietly.

“I want to keep Sienna safe, Harry. I don’t have much of a choice,” she answered quietly.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled and sank down into the rickety straight-backed chair beside him.

“For how long,” he asked finally.

“As long as we see it fit,” responded Sutcliffe.

“Why me?” he asked her directly. “Why not Ron, Neville, or Seamus-”

“Honestly, do you think Ron would be capable-?”

“I get it,” he said finally. “I-I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” said Richard briskly, “Harry, Hermione, please follow me to Wizarding Affairs. We’ll make it as quick and painless as possible.”

x-x-x-x-x

He hardly had any time to register the fact that he was actually getting married to a woman he hadn’t seen in nearly six years. He wasn’t ready for marriage. He was only twenty-three! Then again, there she was, married for nearly three years with a six-month-old baby. It was definitely something he never expected of her.

It was almost as if she wasn’t his Hermione. His Hermione was always career first, family second. She was going off to America to study- and he was furious with her for it. She couldn’t leave him right then, he was just going into Auror training, and Ron was off playing Quidditch, he would be left alone, and he wasn’t exactly ready to be cut loose just yet. But she left, and he didn’t even see her off at Heathrow. They hadn’t spoken for weeks prior, and he half-hoped she would show up on his doorstep and tell him it was going to be okay, but she never did. She went to America, and he never heard from her again.

Now, here he was, six and a half years later, standing in front of her in the Wizarding Affairs department, getting married to her. Never once in a thousand years did he expect this. He wanted to live, he wanted to wait years to find a woman to marry, and then have a family, and it was now being forced upon him. He wasn’t ready for this. There were no other rooms in his house clean enough for her and her baby; he himself had only just got back from Greece on exchange the previous day.

He was visibly shaken, and he could tell she knew it. He wasn’t ready for marriage, and she knew it. She could tell by just looking at the way he held himself together, his hair was messy but seemed strangely styled that way, his clothes were worn just so. He was a single man, and it was obvious he wasn’t in an immediate rush to have a family. She felt the smallest ounce of guilt of putting this burden on him, but she had to think of Sienna. It was for Sienna, she kept telling herself.

Besides, she thought, Harry had always said he wanted a family of his own. Just … just maybe not now. She paid attention to his features as the chancellor read off Harry’s duties to her as a husband, and hers to him as his wife. Sienna and she would quietly adopt the name ‘Potter’ and move into his home just outside Wycombe. It would be a dramatic change for him, suddenly obtaining a wife and a stepdaughter, a daughter he would have to try and pass off as his own to his friends. She never even considered the fact that he may already have a girlfriend, fiancé or even a wife. When she and Sienna were brought into the Ministry offices, they wanted to know if she, given the circumstances, had anyone within the Wizarding World to contact and have a safe haven with. Before she could stop herself, the name ‘Harry Potter’ had flowed gracefully from her lips.

The head of the Auror Department had nodded seriously to her, and turned to his filing cabinet and withdrew an official looking folder with ‘POTTER, HARRY JAMES’ written across it in dark block letters.

“You’re in luck, Mrs. Ashdale,” he had said, “Potter just returned home last night.”

She nodded solemnly as he produced a quill and a piece of parchment and had sent it off with one of the Urgency Owls. Within fifteen minutes, it returned, with Harry’s reply about wanting to finish his morning tea and shower. By the end of the hour, Harry Potter had stepped back into her life.

He looked far more different than she remembered. He had definitely filled out, and had lost his childish glasses in exchange for a pair of what looked like contact lenses. His hair was slightly longer; just reaching the nape of his neck. He looked … good.

Harry seemed agitated that he had been called into work on the day he was to begin his six-month vacation. His agitation quickly turned into seriousness as the situation was explained to him.

At first, he flat out refused; and for the briefest moment it was almost as if her worst fear had come true. Then Sutcliffe had thrown in the word ‘baby’ and ‘safety’ and Harry reluctantly agreed too marry her on the spot. He was silent the whole way to the Wizarding Affairs offices, and to her relief, Sienna was still sleeping peacefully.

As their quick wedding progressed, she finally looked up from their clasped hands and met his piercing emerald green gaze. He had quietly said ‘I do’ with an air of confidence, and she soon repeated him. Her insides seemed to freeze when the chancellor had said ‘this marriage shall be sealed with a kiss’. Judging by Harry’s bewildered expression, he hadn’t been expecting it either.

His rough hands left hers and his right slowly cupped the side of her face and he leaned forward towards her. She closed her eyes as he neared and allowed him to gently tilt her lips towards his. Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, she felt his soft lips against her own. As quickly as he had come, he had left, and she could still faintly taste him on her lips before she turned away from him to tend to Sienna.

Even though she was used to wearing her wedding band to Robert, the one that bound her to Harry somehow felt different. She chanced a glance down at it, and it was quite different. It was a little thinner, and made of an elegant white gold with the tiniest diamond set into it, it was barely noticeable. It was beautiful, she thought as she lifted a groggy Sienna into her arms and kissed her forehead lightly before placing her gently into the pram and followed her new husband out of the office.

“We have arranged a Portkey for you back to Buckinghamshire,” explained Sutcliffe, more to Harry than her.

“It won’t disturb the baby, will it?” he asked.

“No, it shouldn’t. We’ve modified it so it will be a safer and easier version of side-along appearation.”

Harry nodded as they entered the Atrium and the minister withdrew a mangy old boot from the interior of his jacket and set it on the stone banister that led down to the dungeon courtrooms.

Harry stepped aside and allowed her to remove Sienna from her pram and he minimised it with his wand and placed it securely in his jacket pocket. He nodded towards her and they both walked simultaneously towards the Portkey and slowly reached towards it. No sooner than she had laid a finger upon the boot and closed her eyes, she immediately felt a sense of warmth.

Harry watched as Hermione opened her eyes and her eyes darted to and fro drinking in her surroundings.

“I have to go tidy up a couple of rooms,” he explained as he rubbed at the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or unsure of what to do. “Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator. I haven’t got much, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Harry.” She said kindly as she set Sierra back down in her carriage. I’ll just look around, if that’s alright, familiarise myself with it.”

“Go right ahead,” he said quietly, casting a look down at Sierra before he disappeared up the oak stairs.

He quickly chose the room across the hall from his own for Hermione, which was currently empty except for a dusty old futon from his previous flat, where he had lived during his training days, and a pile of old boxes. He quickly transfigured the futon into a comfortable looking four-poster bed and the boxes into a dresser and vanity. He cast a quick cleaning spell over the room before moving out to the one beside it. He quickly cleared out the boxes with an ‘Evanesco’ and conjured what he hoped was the right things for an infant for Sienna.

How in the hell was he going to break it to his friends and the Weasley’s that he had eloped with Hermione, and that they had a six-month-old daughter together? They would surely murder him for it. He would never hear the end of it from Molly; he was sure she would take it rather hard because she still held a torch for Ginny and he. She was still unaware that Ginny had been dating Draco Malfoy for the past year and a half; Ginny said she would tell her mother until it was too late; because then she couldn’t try and break them up. Strangely, it didn’t sound wrong at all, it seemed logical, as she was a Weasley, and he a Malfoy.

Sighing, Harry looked over the banister and saw Hermione gazing out over the grounds, Sienna tightly in her arms.

“There’s wards all around the place,” he said as he descended down the stairs, “you’re safe here, even outside for within a two kilometer radius around the house.”

“That’s a lot of space,” she said dully.

“It’s a lot of land,” he replied as he joined her side. “I’m sorry about your husband,” said Harry quietly.

Hermione nodded. “I still don’t believe it … He knew I was a witch, but I never told him about Death Eaters or Voldemort or any of them…”

“Did he know about me?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “And Ron as well. I didn’t think it would be right for him not to know I was friends with you two growing up. It would be an insult to you if I didn’t tell him.”

“What did he think about Ron and I?” he asked.

She smiled faintly, “he was jealous, a little when he first found out. But I think he accepted the fact that there had been two men in my life previously.”

“I’m sure he took comfort in the fact that we didn’t speak anymore.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she said, “I promised I’d write.”

“I didn’t have time to reply anyway, I was so immersed in training. Perhaps it’s for the best.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed flatly.

Harry exhaled quietly and folded his arms across his chest. “Your rooms are ready.”

“That was awfully quick,” she smiled as he led her towards the stairs.

“You can change them if you want, I just conjured a few things in case you wanted to sleep, or put Sienna down so she didn’t have to stay in the pram all the time.”

“Thank you, Harry. I really do appreciate this.”

“It’s alright, Hermione. Just think of it as time to get to know each other again. It’s been a while.”

Hermione smiled. “I’d like that, Harry. I really would.”

2. Chapter 1

Harry finally opened his eyes and immediately felt a sense of comfort. He was finally back in his own home, instead of staying in low-budget hotels. Sighing with contentment, he relaxed back into his pillows. However, his peacefulness was soon disturbed as a high-pitched cry filled the house. Cringing, Harry slowly rose from his bed and quickly pulled on a pair of grey sweat pants over his boxers and exited the room just in time to witness Hermione slowly walking up and down the hall, Sienna crying loudly in her arms.

“I’m sorry she woke you,” said Hermione over the screaming.

“It’s okay,” he replied as he slowly walked towards her. “Do you want me to try?”

Hermione hesitated before handing her crying daughter over to Harry. To both their disappointment, Sienna only cried louder and began to struggle. Hermione instantly took her back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” she said sadly. “It’s almost as if she knows…”

“Knows what?”

“That Robert’s gone. Her father, Harry…” she sobbed. Reality had finally sunk into her.

“Hermione…” he said gently, stepping towards her.

“He’s gone, Harry. He was the love of my life… I love him so much … Sienna’s going to grow up without her father...” She continued as Harry’s eyes lowered towards the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “If I could bring him back for you, I would.”

Hermione looked up at him through watery eyes, “I know you would,” she whispered. “It’s just that, I don’t think she should…”

“Hermione, Sienna has you. For Merlin sakes, be grateful for it. Be grateful she doesn’t have to grow up in an environment where everyone hates her because of what she is and whom she’s related to. Whether you like it or not, she’s got me too, and I may not be the best father figure in the world, at least she’s got one.” Harry said seriously, causing her to recoil slightly at the dark look in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean-” she began quietly.

Harry shook his head and threw himself back in his bedroom. She didn’t think he could do it. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could parent an infant. He wasn’t exactly father material at the moment. He was twenty-three; and wasn’t necessarily in a hurry to marry and start his own family. Of course he wanted one, but he was quite content with the life style he was living, or used to be.

It was then it hit him. This had turned his life upside down. There would probably be no more going out to pubs and bars with his mates from work at night, going to Quidditch matches, and probably squashed his vague ideas of quitting being an Auror and becoming a professional Quidditch player. No, that probably wouldn’t happen now. He was quite comfortable with his life, and now… He didn’t know. Was he supposed to just quit everything he had ever known? Tell his friends that ‘hey mates, I can’t go out because my wife who doesn’t even love me wants me there to make it look like that we had a daughter and love each other and want to spend time together. Sorry’.

It was foreign to him. Sure, he had seen his fair share of Weasley babies, but he had never taken care of any of them. He was their fun Uncle Harry who spoiled them at Christmas and on their Birthdays, but never was he cut out to be a father to them. He was their crazy uncle who they pulled pranks with, but he was never seen as some kind of authority to them.

Now Sienna was an entirely different story. She was partially his responsibility now. Part of him wished he were bringing in his own child so it wouldn’t be so bad, but since he and his last girlfriend, Ana, split up months ago, that wasn’t going to happen. He seen Ana on a daily basis, and was positive she had never been impregnated by him. Besides, she would have told him in a heartbeat that she was expecting. She just wasn’t the type of person to do that sort of thing. He didn’t know what to do when Sienna cried. Hermione nearly clobbered him the previous day because he hadn’t heated up her milk before he gave it to her. Again, how was he supposed to know?

He knew she didn’t think he could do it. But who was she to judge him? After all, she was the one who took off to the Salem Witches’ Institute to study and never bothered to write or come back. There was always some suspicion in the back of his mind about to why she never bothered to reply to any of his letters, but he had never voiced it. Eventually, he got the hint, and just stopped bothering to write to her. If she didn’t care, neither would he. So he moved on with his life, and slowly, unconsciously moved away from his friends he had gone to school with. Sure, he saw them frequently, but those whom he went out with at night were total opposite. They were considered some of the most eligible bachelors in the Ministry, and now one of them had eloped … surely it would cause some sort of uproar, as the men would almost be losing one of their own.

Sighing, Harry walked into the master bathroom and stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He felt his muscles relax as the hot water cascaded down his back. Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the stall door and allowed the warmth and comfort to overtake him. Finally, he was home.

He stepped out of the shower nearly twenty minutes later feeling slightly better about himself. He dried himself off and shaved the stubble that had formed on his face away and dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. After he had pulled his top over his head, he realised that there was silence. Narrowing his eyebrows, Harry slowly pulled open his door and walked out into the corridor and looked over the side of the banister to see Hermione sitting quietly down in the sitting room, Sienna asleep in her arms.

His features softened and he turned away from the side and quietly walked down the stairs and into the sitting room. Hermione looked up as he entered.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “I’m just so overwhelmed right now with everything that has happened…”

“Yeah,” he said stiffly as he wandered over to the bookcase.

“You have a lot of books there on the dark arts,” she commented quietly.

“I need them for work.” He responded as he lightly ran his fingers over the leather-bound spines. “You never know when they might come in handy.”

Hermione said nothing as she watched him aimlessly pace the room.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” he laughed hollowly, “I’m so used to working all the time.”

“It’s not good for you,” she answered. “That’s what Robert used to tell me. And he was right.”

“Maybe it worked for you, but not for me. I’m on a forced six-month-leave. I’ve got nothing else to do with my life. There’s nothing out there for me. So I just work.”

“What do you mean, there’s nothing out there for you?”

“There’s just… nothing. None of my relationships seem to last for more than six months, all I do is work, and after work I go out and that’s basically my life. I hardly play Quidditch anymore…”

“I-I don’t know what to say, Harry.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione… I just don’t know.”

x-x-x-x-x

The rest of the day seemed to pass by without incident. Hermione showed Harry the proper way to change Sienna’s diaper and how to feed her properly. By the time night rolled around, Harry decided he was going to go out and meet his friends at their normal meeting place, as he hadn’t seen them in months.

He had changed his jeans into a nicer pair and pulled on a tight black t-shirt and shrugged his loose jacket on over his shoulders and gave Hermione his mobile number in case she needed him, and promptly dissaparated with a loud pop.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a familiar dark ally way, his normal appearation point. He smoothed out his clothes and ran a hand through his hair before he stepped out of the ally way and onto the sidewalk. He breezed passed the security guard and the lengthy line, ignoring the protests of those waiting to get in. It was obvious that he came there often, and judging by his status, he was a very important person to the management.

His eyes scanned the crowd, and he located his co-workers at their usual table in the corner. Smiling slightly he pushed his way though the dancing crowd towards the bar and ordered himself a pint. He paid for his drink and slowly walked toward the table.

“Bless my soul, Harry’s alive!” shouted one of them, and they all turned around and looked at him in unison.

Grinning, Harry shook his head and slid into the booth. “Fuck Andrew, so are you. Why aren’t you dead yet?”

“I could ask you the same bloody thing.”

“I’m immune to death,” replied Harry dryly, “you should know that by now.”

“Smart ass,” muttered Andrew.

“How was Greece, Harry?” asked another.

“It was nice, it’s better here. I’m not used to so much sun,” he explained, “did I miss anything here?”

“Gordon Leftswitch got transferred to Bulgaria,” said a man named Adam, “because he was sussed out by the ministry for sleeping with the trainees, and we all know that’s not allowed.”

“None of them were that good looking anyway.”

“Neither was Leftswitch, so I imagine he took what he could get,” replied Harry as he took a long drink from his mug.

“What about you, Harry?” asked Adam, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry stretched his arms over his head and ran his left hand through his hair. “I’m married, that’s what’s about me,” he responded finally.

“Bullshit,” said Andrew and Adam in unison.

“I’m not bullshitting,” said Harry as he held up his left hand where the white-gold band reflected in the light.

“Who the hell did you marry?” Demanded Will.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. “Hermione Granger… She had my baby, and it’s my duty to her to marry her and take care of our daughter.”

“Seriously, you got a bird pregnant and didn’t tell anyone?” said Andrew in disbelief, “Harry, mate, I know you want to get married some day, but getting an old school mate pregnant and not telling anyone a little extreme?”

“I-I wasn’t thinking,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean, I love her, she loves me… We probably would have ended up getting married anyway even if we didn’t have Sienna.”

“What’s her full name?”

“Sienna Jane Potter,” he said smoothly as he took a final drink from his mug as the waitress brought them another round. “She looks just like Hermione.”

“I still don’t believe it. Harry has a bloody baby,” said Adam. “Does that mean you won’t be coming here anymore?”

“I don’t know,” replied Harry honestly. “I suppose I’ll just have to owe up to my rights as her father and stay home and help with the baby…”

Adam shook his head. “You’re going to be an amazing father to that little girl, Harry.”

x-x-x-x-x

It was well after two in the morning when Harry stumbled into the house. He found it odd that the lights were still on, and he fumbled with the light switch to turn them off, but stopped when Hermione entered the room.

“Don’t,” she said softly.

“It’s really late,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “I’m really tired, darling.”

“Don’t call me that,” she replied, her tone never changing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as she walked towards him, and stared into his glassy eyes.

“About what?”

“I’m not good enough,” he continued as he slid down on the couch.

“For what, Harry?”

“For you and S-Sienna. I’m a stupid fucking mess, Hermione. Look at me!”

“It’s okay, Harry,” she whispered as she sat down beside him.

“No it’s not. I’m not g-good enough, I can’t do it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do when she cries, Hermione. I almost gave her the wrong-”

“Harry you’re drunk.”

“No-”

“Yes you are,” she said loudly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

Hermione looked at his helpless form. She had never seen him like this. Sure, he had a pint or two after the war, but she had never seen him completely intoxicated and vulnerable. He was telling her things that he probably wouldn’t have told her if he was completely sober, even if he wanted to.

She knew he would strive to be the best father he could be to Sienna, but his fears were probably starting to catch up to him.

“Harry…”

“I’m so sorry, Hermione. I can’t be Robert for her.”

“No, but you can be Harry. I’m sure she’d like that.”

“I’m not a parent. I’m a stupid drunk.”

“I think you need to go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Don’t want to,” he whispered as he reached for her hand. “T-t-there’s a sobering potion in the bathroom.”

“Do you want me to get it for you?”

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing his glassy eyes.

Hermione nodded and slowly stood up but Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back down on the couch. Before she knew what was happening, Harry had placed his warm mouth over hers. She didn’t know how to react. Was he only kissing her because he was drunk? Or did he actually want her? Over the past few days she had been with him, he had never shown any type of romantic want towards her.

She could taste the lager in his mouth as his lips continued to devour hers, and she had subconsciously woven her fingers into his tangled mane of hair. Even under the influence, Harry could still do wonderful things with his mouth, she thought. Did she really want to do this with Harry? After all, he was no longer the lanky seventeen-year-old she remembered. He had proven that the first time she had seen him. If they weren’t to consummate their marriage within the year, it would be annulled, and they would be found out and their protection against Sienna would be useless.

When she was in Hogwarts, she used to have a silly schoolgirl crush on Harry. After all, he was Harry Potter! Who didn’t fancy him? He was good looking then, and he sure as hell was now. She slowly opened her eyes and hers met his as he pulled away from her, slightly flushed in the face.

“Hermione,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she whispered back.

Was she even ready for this? She still loved Robert. He would always hold a special place in her heart. After all, he was Sienna’s father. But could she love Harry the way she loved Robert? Could she and Harry actually pull through this, and perhaps even have their own children together? Or was this just drunk sex to him?

“Stop thinking, Hermione,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot on her neck.

“But-”

“Just stop…” he continued as he pressed hot kisses on her neck.

Hermione nodded mutely and brought his face up to hers. “I want you to have that sobering potion.” She whispered.

Harry nodded and slowly climbed off her and helped her to her feet. She took his arm and led him up the staircase, making sure she didn’t trip. Harry stepped into the bathroom in his bedroom and fumbled with the cabinet door and finally pulled it open. He grabbed a small vile of light blue liquid and pulled the cap off. He glanced down into the vile and at his reflection in the mirror. He shook his head and quickly downed the contents and stumbled into the wall as it took affect.

Suddenly, everything came into sharper focus, and his thoughts became more coherent, and the feeling between his thighs suddenly felt very real. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and he definitely looked a mess. How could she ever want him? His eyes were still red rimmed and he just looked… worn. Sighing, he hopelessly ran his hand through his hair and slowly opened the door to see Hermione sitting on the edge of his bed. She looked up at him expectantly. He smiled weakly as he sat down beside her and put his head in his hands.

“Are you alright?” she asked as she pulled his fingers away from his face and stared into his deep green eyes.

“I’m fine,” he assured as she wove her arms around his neck and held him close. He immediately felt a sense of warmth and comfort.

“Do you want this?” she asked quietly.

“Are you ready? Because-”

“Make me forget, Harry,” she whispered as she lightly traced his lips with her fingers.

Harry nodded slowly and gathered her in his arms and slowly pressed his lips against hers as they fell backwards onto his bed. Hermione noted she felt safe and secure in Harry’s arms, strangely, something she never felt when she had been with Robert. Sighing inwardly, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and focused her attention on Harry.

His hands slowly made their way down her sides and she felt them slip under the hem of her thin nightshirt. She arched her back as his fingers lightly brushed her nipples, hardening them instantly at his touch. Hermione felt him smile slightly against her lips before he pulled away from her and she slowly lifted her top over her head.

She suddenly felt uneasy under Harry’s intense gaze as she watched his eyes slowly take in every inch of her upper body. She had never known a man with a gaze so intense as Harry’s. He finally locked eyes with her and smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly.

“You’re wearing too much,” she replied as she took hold of the ends of his shirt and pushed it up his chest and over his head.

Harry truly had an amazing physique. He wasn’t well built, but he was indeed defined. It was definitely something she could get used to, she mused. Biting her lower lip, she slowly leaned towards him and wrapped her arms around his topless form and pressed herself against him and she soon found herself being pushed back down on the mattress.

It seemed to take forever for them to remove the rest of their clothing. Finally, she was naked, with Harry, in his bed as her hands roamed free over his body. She slowly trailed the tips of her fingers down his chest and abdomen and stopped just above his member. She looked up at him expectantly, and he returned her heated gaze, and gently stroked the side of her face, as if asking permission to continue on. She kissed him lightly, playfully pulling on his bottom lip. She felt him exhale and watched him smile as he gathered her into his arms and slowly brought his body on top of hers.

Harry gently pushed her thighs apart with his knee and settled himself between her legs. Hermione slowly slid her hand up the side of his face as he began to enter her and slowly enveloped him into a heated kiss as he buried himself deep within her.

She couldn’t help but moan as he moved within her and wrap her legs around his waist, giving him better access. Harry took this opportunity to speed up his ministrations and she heard him make a noise in the back of his throat, signalling he was near the end.

But she came before he did, and all she could do was lie there in his arms, shaking pleasurably as he buried himself deep between her folds and lose himself inside of her. Harry finally mustered up the strength to remove himself from her and he rolled onto his side, breathless.

“You’re amazing, she whispered as she laid her head on his chest and allowed him to wrap his arms around her and hold her impossibly close to him.

Harry said nothing as he wove his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, and she soon felt his breathing even out, signalling he had finally fallen asleep.

As she lay there in his arms, it was then she realised she might actually have a chance at loving Harry Potter.

A/N: I’m sorry it’s a little late than my normal updating times, but time does become consuming after you get increasingly frustrated with the chapter after you write it over three times. Finally, I’m still not totally sure about it, but it really doesn’t matter what I think. It’s about what you lot, the readers think.

3. Chapter 2

When Hermione woke up the next morning, it took her several seconds to realise several things. A, she was not in her own room, B, she was naked, and C, Harry was sleeping naked with his back to her beside her. Reality had suddenly started to take its toll on her.

I’ve slept with Harry.

She quickly slid out of the bed, eased the sheet off Harry’s body, but carefully leaving the rest of the blankets on him so she wouldn’t have to see any of him. She gathered up her discarded clothing and silently exited the room and scuttled across the hallway to her own. Hermione quickly shut the door and locked it, and exhaled as she leaned against the frame.

What had she done? It was almost an insult to her hus- late husband’s memory. Then again, she was Harry’s wife now. After last night, would it be expected of her to sleep in his room, with him? She wasn’t even sure if she loved him or not. He had been drunk for Merlin’s sake when he came home. Then again, she herself wasn’t that innocent either. After she had put Sienna down for the night, she had had a glass or two of wine from Harry’s refrigerator. But she had told Harry to take a sobering potion, which he had done. After that, he seemed less inclined to make love to her; he was almost hesitant. But he did anyway. Perhaps the thought of the consummation of their marriage was floating around in his head, and thought it would be best to get it done now than later.

It was a mistake, she decided as she dressed, a necessary mistake that would surely never happen again.

But what about Harry, she thought. If he had to stay married to her, would she expect him to stay loyal to her? It seemed almost cruel keeping him away from any chance at love. He was only twenty-three, after all. After the incident last night, it seemed he was accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and it was almost as if she was taking him away from the only thing he had known. Hell, he had even said so himself. He didn’t know what to do with himself because he rarely had free time during the day. He had a life before she married him, and she took it away because he was her last resort, and surely, he must have felt some resentment towards her for it.

For some reason, it seemed to bother her to see him with Sienna. It bothered her when he made her burst into her little baby giggles, and she didn’t know why. It was almost as if she didn’t want her daughter to become too attached to him, because she didn’t know what would happen if she lost Harry. Sienna cried and cried because Robert wasn’t there to help console her, and Harry holding her hadn’t helped much, either. Then somehow, Sienna changed throughout the course of the day. She reached out to Harry, the way she reached out to Robert, and something inside of her didn’t like it.

Harry wasn’t her father, and she wanted Sienna to know it. She wanted to keep Robert alive within their daughter, so Sienna didn’t grow up thinking that Harry Potter had always been her daddy, because he wasn’t. Robert loved his daughter more than anything in the world, and Hermione was sure it would pain him to see another man raise his little girl, despite the circumstances.

Unfortunately for her deceased husband, that was not the case. Harry seemed to be taking on his role as Sienna’s father with full intent of raising her right, and being there for her. And she didn’t like it. It might be something she had to get used to, but it was an insult to Robert. She loved him. She didn’t know what she was thinking when she was with Harry last night. Having babies with him? It seemed almost laughable to her now. Having babies with Harry. Harry was her best friend, right? He couldn’t possibly want children with some woman whom had chose him as a last resort to protect her daughter from Death Eaters. He would want children with a woman whom he loves. Besides, she didn’t think she would be having sex with him anytime soon. Their marriage was safe, and that’s all that mattered for now.

Hermione pulled her hair up into a messy bun and stepped quietly into the hallway and silently entered Sienna’s room. Her face broke into a smile as she laid eyes on her daughter, who looked back at her with her shining brown orbs. Hermione bent down and picked her up and carried her to the changing table. She quickly disposed of her nappy and supplied her with a new one. She dressed Sienna and made sure everything was ready for the day.

Hermione picked up her baby girl and exited the room, and strode past Harry’s, which emitted no sounds of life whatsoever, which meant Harry was still fast asleep. She silently walked down the stairs and silently began to prepare breakfast for Sienna and herself. Just as she sat down to have her morning tea, she heard the creak of the stairs, signalling Harry had woken up.

She didn’t look up when Harry entered the room, but she felt his eyes on her. She waited for him to say something, but it never came. She dared to look up, but Harry was standing off to the side busying himself with buttering a piece of toast. He was wearing a simple jumper and jeans, and looked as if the previous nights events never occurred, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Once she caught sight of Harry, Sienna let out a delighted squeal, and he spun around and stared in her general direction and smiled faintly. Harry caught her staring at him, and she quickly diverted her gaze back to her tea.

“Morning,” breathed Harry as he sat down beside her. His voice sent chills down her spine.

“Alright,” she said quietly, still not looking at him.

“Hermione about last night…”

“Sienna’s safe now. We consummated it, it doesn’t need to happen again,” she said briskly, as she stood up and moved towards the sink.

“Right,” he said finally as he dragged his fingers through his hair and yawned silently.

When he lifted his head, he looked straight at Sienna and smiled. He quietly rose from his seat and carefully lifted her out of her highchair and into the safety of his arms.

“Thank you,” said Hermione suddenly, “I was about to get her… I was going to my mum’s today. I haven’t seen her since… Robert.”

“Yeah,” said Harry quietly as he allowed Sienna to be taken out of his arms, “no problem.”

“You know my mother’s telephone number if you need me, right?”

“It’s on the board by the front door,” he said as he leaned against the counter and watched her silently fidget with the hem of Sienna’s trousers. “Are you alright?” he added softly.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, “we’ll be back around six.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded finally. “I’ll just be in my office going over some paperwork.”

“Have fun,” she responded as she disappeared from the kitchen and up the stairs to retrieve her things.

x-x-x-x-x

When he woke up this morning, he immediately felt a sense of loss. He had rolled over, and had every intention of pulling his wife into his arms and snogging her senseless, but she wasn’t there, and neither was his sheet. He almost felt lost without her there beside him. She didn’t even wake him to let him know she was leaving. When he finally mustered up the strength to pull himself out of bed, he prayed to Merlin that she was at least still in the house.

Then as he was getting dressed, he heard the stairs creak. They always did that when someone walked on them. No matter how many charms he placed on them, they still creaked, and it was just something he had gotten used to over time. Sighing with relief, he had pulled his jumper over his head and put on a pair of socks before he headed down stairs for breakfast.

He didn’t receive the greeting he had wanted. She barely acknowledged his presence in the room. Heck, Sienna noticed him more than she did, and she was barely six months old. That was not what he was expecting. He was beginning to feel something for her, and her baby, and his worst fears seemed to be coming true; she was rejecting him.

It was almost as if she had used him the previous night. He was there just to consummate something. That was it. There would be no morning kisses or smiles, no one there to hold. Nothing. He never liked waking up alone, and he felt like one of those old married couples whom his Aunt Petunia used to gossip about how so-and-so’s wife or husband slept in another room because the love and passion had just left the relationship. Only in his case, it was just never there.

He had made the decision he was going to try his hardest to be a good father to Sienna, and it was almost as if Hermione didn’t even want him near her. He understood that she was still grieving over Robert, and needed time, but he thought she would at least let him get to know Sienna the tiniest bit. Every time he held Sienna in his arms, Hermione would be along within seconds to pluck her out and whisk her off to another area of the house with some excuse. He was trying, and she wasn’t letting him in.

Hermione said nothing to him as she waited for the Portkey she had owled in for the previous day to activate. He knew that she knew that he was watching her, and she just didn’t want to be around him at the moment. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t be near him.

x-x-x-x-x

Soon, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. And unfortunately for Harry, nothing changed. He and Hermione developed some sort of civil relationship (and he was never comfortable with it), and for some strange reason, it worked. They barely spoke to each other, even if Harry showed some sort of want of conversation, she pushed him away, and on most occasions, he ended up locking himself in his office and busied himself with the progress reports that the Ministry had been sending him.

He wanted to be in charge of the group of Aurors that were supposed to be finding the Death Eaters that killed Robert Ashdale. But, because of his personal connections, he was forbidden, as it was against the rules. But they agreed to send him progress reports, but unfortunately, it was now almost three months after, nothing had been found and no one else had been killed. It seems the point of calling the investigation closed was coming near.

Merlin, he loved her, and that little girl. And as dysfunctional as they were, they were his family. He knew she didn’t love him back, and he doubted she ever would. He was stuck in a marriage where his feelings weren’t returned. Surely, it would be enough to drive any bloke around the bend.

It seemed Sienna was the only reason he got up in the morning. Hermione finally (and silently) gave him permission to be alone with her, feed her, change her, and do anything with her. He lived for that little girl, she was his little ray of sunshine because her mother didn’t love him back, and seeing her shy little smile always made his day.

He was growing sick of it. Hermione just… frustrated him beyond belief with her curt answers and her snide remarks at everything. Ever since they made love, she had been like that with him. Surely, he hadn’t been that bad to make her absolutely mad at him for months on end. He had tried everything. He cooked her dinner, he let her take a nap when she was tired and he looked after Sienna. He stayed home all the time in case she needed him or wanted to go out. He had tried everything he had thought of. She didn’t care about anything he did, and it made him want to scream at.

She wasn’t the Hermione he had always known, and he desperately wanted her back.

Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror briefly before he pulled his jacket on his shoulders to go out to what was left of his former life. He only went out once a week, and it seemed to be his safe haven. He could be himself, drink whatever he liked, say whatever he wanted, and do whatever, and then return home, and pass out until noon the next day. Hermione never said a word about it.

He pulled open his bedroom door and silently walked down the corridor and down the staircase. He was almost at the front door when she spoke.

“Where are you going?” she asked from behind him.

“Out,” he responded as he laid his hand on the doorknob.

“Didn’t you just go out?”

“No,” he responded, “I haven’t gone out in nearly a weak and a half. I’m getting sick of this place.”

“Where are you going to?”

“I’m not sure. I’m going out with a few of my friends from work. Probably pub crawling.”

“What time will you be home?”

“I don’t know, Hermione. Alright?” He said loudly, “I have no fucking clue where I’ll end up tonight, what time I’ll be home or anything. I’ll get back when I get back.”

“You don’t have to yell at me,” she responded sharply.

“You’re frustrating me,” he shot back as he turned around. “This is the first time I think we’ve had a conversation that’s lasted longer than a minute since we’ve been married.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it!” he shouted, rounding on her. “I’m sick of it! You never speak to me, and when you do, you’re criticizing something I’ve done. I’m not some shitbag you can push around, Hermione. I’m your bloody husband, whether you want me to be or not. I can’t stand it any more. It’s not my fault Robert died, Hermione. If I could save you for him, I would have, alright? I’ve told you that countless times.

“Have you ever considered how I feel about this? I stay home all the bloody time to help you look after Sienna, and you just don’t care what happens to me. I care about her so much, and you don’t acknowledge the fact. For fuck sakes, we’re in a goddamn marriage, Hermione. I can’t live like this. I can’t. I need some sort of life. I can’t just keep throwing myself into my work because work’s going to be running out soon until I go back in a few months. Then what am I going to do? Sit around the house like a dog while you sit there and criticize everything? I’m sorry for what ever I’ve done, I have no idea what it is, but at least I’m trying to put effort into this. I tried being a good husband to you; I’ve done everything I can. I’m sorry Hermione, I can’t do this anymore!” He shouted before he wrenched open the door and stepped out into the summer air.

“HARRY WAIT!” She called, running out of the house after him.

“I don’t want to hear it!” he shouted back as he began to walk faster.

“HARRY!” She called desperately from the yard.

He ignored her as he walked down the street, hands shoved deep within his pockets.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!” She shouted, as the lights in the neighbouring homes turned on. “HARRY, PLEASE!”

Harry broke into a run as he turned onto one of the smaller side streets and turned down a path that led down the small lake where some of the neighbourhood children swam during the day. He knew since it was dark, he wouldn’t be disturbed. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like going out anymore.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione watched as his lean figure disappeared into the darkness and out of sight. She heard the neighbour’s doors open to come out and see what the commotion was. She reluctantly went back inside the house to retrieve Sienna and go out and look for Harry.

She wiped the tears from her eyes on the sleeve of her light cotton shirt as she headed up the stairs to get a sleeping Sienna. She slowly pushed open the door to her daughters’ bedroom and walked over to the crib. Just as she lifted Sienna into her arms, she heard the doorbell ring. She narrowed her eyebrows as she held the young girl in her arms and headed down the stairs. Hermione sifted Sienna in her arms and slowly pulled open the door a crack, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t Harry; it was their neighbour.

“Mrs. Potter is it?” he asked kindly.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “Hermione Potter.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, I heard shouting… Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” said Hermione softly, “my husband … Harry … he’s just upset.”

“Are you sure…?” He inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she replied finally. “He’ll be back. He just went for a walk. If you’ll excuse me, I have to put my daughter to bed,” she said briskly, and closed the door and locked it before he could say anything else. Hermione clutched Sienna to her chest and slowly lowered herself down onto the couch and stared blankly in front of her.

4. Chapter 3

Harry refused to return to the house. He couldn’t face her after the things he had said to her. Sure, they were harsh, and he meant every word of them. He was trying to be some sort of positive influence on her. He was feeling something towards her, and it scared him a little. Every time he made her laugh, he felt a tiny bit proud of himself. It made him feel accomplished. Just hearing her tinkling laugh made his day, and she was probably furious beyond belief with him at the moment.

Harry dug his hands in his pockets as he entered a fair looking hotel. He glanced at his watch as he slowly approached the front desk. The middle aged woman behind the desk looked up from behind the desk as he came towards her.

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

“Do you have any unavailable rooms?” he replied quietly.

“Yes. I’ll need your credit card and some form of proof of your identity.”

Harry nodded mutely and produced a credit card from the back of his wallet (he rarely used it, but it often came in handy), and his drivers licence.

The woman’s claw-like hand came up above the desk and snatched the cards from his hands. Her eyes glanced at his picture and then darted to him several times. Finally, she seemed satisfied.

“Well Mr. Potter,” she began professionally, “How long will you be staying with us?”

“Just for tonight,” he said finally. “I’m not awake enough to drive all the way back to Wycombe.”

The woman nodded as she typed his information into the computer.

Minutes later, he was in the lift on the way up to his room. He almost considered phoning home just to let Hermione know he’d be back sometime tomorrow. As much as he was furious with her, and she him, he did not want her to worry about him.

Harry quietly entered his room and didn’t bother to take in his surroundings. He threw his jacket carelessly onto one of the plush chairs and quietly turned on his mobile phone as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He had over 10 missed calls; all from home.

She must have tried to call him several times. Before he had time to register what was going on, the phone began to vibrate in his hands. It was his home number.

He slowly pressed the ‘answer’ key and lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hello,” he said calmly.

“Harry?” came Hermione’s quivering voice.

Harry exhaled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Yes?” he answered finally.

“Where are you?”

“London. I’m staying in a hotel tonight.”

“Please come home,” she pleaded.

“Not tonight, Hermione,” he replied, “I can’t … I just can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she said desperately.

“We’ll talk when I get home tomorrow, alright? I just can’t deal with this right now.”

“Harry please come home,” she tried once more. He tried to ignore the desperateness in her voice.

“Tomorrow, Hermione,” said Harry seriously, “We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

“Alright,” she responded dully, “Please be careful.”

“I will,” he assured her, “Give Sienna my love.”

“I will,” she said quickly, and the line went dead.

Harry dropped the phone on the bed beside him and fell backwards on it, fully clothed. He was going to be in for a bumpy ride, he mused as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

When Harry awoke the next morning, he was fully aware that the bed he was in was not even his. He was still wearing the same clubbing clothes he was wearing the previous night before he and Hermione had fought.

Yawning loudly, Harry struggled to sit up. He gazed around the sunlit room and finally his eyes rested on the clock sitting on the desk. It was nearly ten. He quickly crawled out of bed and into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of the front desk paying for his room. He hated how they all went through the same process of thanking him and hoped he enjoyed his stay. The only reason he had ended up there in the first place was because he had gotten into a fight with his ‘wife’ and had left the house in a fit of fury and disappointment, and disapparated almost three hours away, and decided that he didn’t want to go home. He almost felt like telling the woman, but thought the better of it as he signed his name with a flourish and quickly exited the hotel without another word.

Harry walked down the sidewalk for several blocks until he stopped abruptly in front of a small, inviting café. He slowly entered and quickly ordered a muffin and a small coffee. He thanked the kind woman and carelessly dropped his change in the small porcelain bowl on the counter and slipped back outside unnoticed and into the alleyway and concealed himself behind a dumpster and disapparated with a loud crack.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in the small, secluded woods in the area behind his home. The weather wasn’t considerably different from London. It was a little chillier, he mused dully as he made his way to the back door of the house that led into the kitchen. He prayed to Merlin that Hermione wasn’t up yet. But, since there was a tiny little thing called Sienna, she was probably up.

Sighing, Harry slowly produced his keys from his jacket pocket and silently unlocked the door and slipped inside. The kitchen was deserted when he entered. He let out the breath he had been holding. She was probably upstairs with Sienna.

Harry silently unzipped his jacket and carefully laid it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and turned to the empty coffee pot and began to make himself a cup of java.

He distantly heard Sienna’s wailing from upstairs, and he flinched. He instantly felt the need to abandon his coffee and join her side. To let her know that he was there, and that everything was going to be okay.

But, as Hermione often made the point of him knowing, Sienna was her daughter. Exhaling, Harry poured the steaming coffee into one of the glossy black mugs hanging off the rack and sat down at the kitchen table. He set the steaming mug down and rested his head in his hands.

“Harry?” came Hermione’s soft voice.

Harry looked up instantly and met her gaze. Her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed. It was obvious she hadn’t slept at all the previous night. For some reason, he didn’t feel sorry for her at all. He didn’t pull his eyes away from hers as she nervously sat down across from him.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, “I-”

“-I don’t want to hear it,” his voice low and seemingly dangerous. She wondered if this was the tone he used whole interrogating prisoners and rogue wizards. “I don’t want to listen to apologies, Hermione. I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

Hermione nodded quietly as she fidgeting nervously with the hem over her jumper.

Harry lowered his eyes back down to his steaming black coffee. He slowly wrapped his fingers around his mug and lifted it to his lips and took a drink. He enjoyed the warmth flowing down his throat. After he had set his mug down, he finally raised his gaze and studied her face.

“Why didn’t you reply to any of my letters?”

“Harry,” she began, “it’s complicated…”

“I want to know, Hermione,” he said sharply.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” she admitted quietly as look of shame crossed her features.

Harry caught her gaze, and Hermione recoiled inwardly at the look in his eyes.

“Know what?” he said flatly. He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear her say it.

“That I-I-I was associated with you,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. He could barely hear her. “I wanted to be Hermione Granger. Not Hermione Granger, Harry Potter’s side kick.”

He tore his stare away from her and rose to his feet and said nothing.

“I don’t know why, Harry. They didn’t know who I was there. No one asked about you or Ron. They just wanted to know what England was like.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh as he shoved his hands deeply in the pockets of his jeans.

“That’s funny,” he said dryly, “it sounds exactly like something I would have done.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah,” he continued, “it is. I even considered it. Buggering off to some foreign country. But you beat me to it, and it was angry. But ultimately, someone had to stay behind to take care of Ron until he got himself straightened away. I’m glad I stayed.”

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, “whether you want to believe or not.”

Harry rolled his eyes and slid on top of the granite countertop.

“I never doubted that. You fell in love. I can’t hold that against you. I wasn’t going to sit around here waiting for you.”

Hermione nodded her understandment. “What about last night?”

“What about the past three months?” he shot back.

“I loved Rob,” she said quietly. “He loved Sienna and I more than anything. Then he was killed, and I was in such a state of shock. I said yes to them, they said that marrying me off right away was the best way to keep Sienna safe. I was a mess. I only had my daughter … if marrying you was going to keep her safe; I was going to do it. But Sienna liked you. She was quite taken with you.

“I couldn’t stand it. You aren’t her father. You’re not Rob. I wanted Sienna to know who her father was … I felt just horrid letting another man raise my husband’s little girl.”

Harry lowered his eyes and examined his fingernails.

“I wasn’t trying to replace Rob,” he said at last, “I was just trying to be good to her. Would you rather I just ignored her completely-”

“-of course not-”

“-and buggered off all the time?”

“Harry-”

“No. I know I partied a lot before you and Sienna came here and moved in. I had a reputation a little more than “The-Boy-Who-Lived” … But I had- I have a duty now. I don’t care if she’s not mine, Hermione. I honestly don’t. I would love to perhaps have a child of my own some day. But it’s an awfully big maybe, isn’t it? I’m not trying to replace Robert, Hermione. I wouldn’t in a million years. I’m just trying to be a good … father to her.”

“You’re doing a remarkable job,” she admitted stubbornly, “part of me doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s true. She cried last night for you after I had finally gotten you on the mobile,” she confessed, “I couldn’t get her to stop.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “I figured she might have.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” she asked.

“She’s your daughter,” he said, almost mockingly.

“I didn’t mean that. I never meant it. I told you-”

“I know you told me,” he interrupted, “I don’t care about that. How do I know that after we get this sorted out, you will act any different around me?”

“Trust me again?” she whispered. “Could you possibly trust me again?”

“I can try,” he responded finally. “It doesn’t mean I trust you fully.”

Hermione exhaled and shot up from her seat at the table and into his arms, and began sobbing uncontrollably into his chest.

“I was so worried,” she admitted, her voice muffled in his shirt, “I couldn’t stand it if I lost you too.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Hermione,” said Harry. “I promise.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she held onto his neck tightly, “I just don’t know what to do anymore…”

“One day at a time, Hermione. Just take it one day at a time.”

Harry soon felt her breathing even out on his neck. He carefully scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. He quietly pushed open the door and laid her down on her soft bed. Harry pulled her blankets over body before leaving the room. He wasted no time entering the room beside hers, which was Sienna’s. He entered the room and walked over the crib and looked down at his bright-eyed step daughter. Sienna instantly reached up with her chubby little arms and reached out for him. Smiling faintly, Harry bent down and lifted her into his arms. He immediately felt a sense of comfort as he held her in his arms.

Harry slowly sank down on the small sofa and quietly watched as Sienna became determined to work the watch off his wrist. It honestly scared him a little that someone so small and that he had known for such a short time meant so much to him.

That little girl meant the world to him, and he couldn’t see his own future without her or Hermione in it, regardless of how awkward their marriage was or not. He was going to try and make it work for Sienna. He didn’t want her to grow up without both parents like he did. No one, in his opinion, deserved that.

A small smile graced Sienna’s tiny features as she caught him watching her with interest. She abandoned his wrist and reached up and dragged her tiny palm across his scruffy face. Harry grabbed her chubby little fist and pressed a light kiss to her fingers, causing to emit a tiny baby giggle.

Harry let out a laugh as he got to his feet and lifted her in the air and spun her around, causing to laugh louder. He brought her back down and held her securely in his arms and quietly exited the room. He walked down the steps, and glanced at the clock on the wall. He decided to go outside and collect the post. He unlocked the front door and immediately noticed that the lawn needed to be cut. Perhaps he’d do it once Hermione woke up. Harry stepped out of the house and began walking down the front walk when someone hollered at him.

“Excuse me!” he heard a male voice shout.

Harry held Sienna tightly to his chest as he slowly turned around to see his neighbour crossing his lawn in his direction.

“Hello,” said Harry coolly.

“Are you the young woman who lives here’s husband?” he asked seriously.

“I am,” replied Harry, “why?”

“I was just concerned. You two were doing an awful lot of shouting last night I just wanted-”

“We’re fine,” Harry cut in before he could finish. “I was just stressed out. I didn’t mean to shout at her. Sorry if we disturbed you.”

“Sir I-”

“I assure you we’re fine,” said Harry seriously as he collected the post, “I wouldn’t be here right now if we weren’t. If you excuse me, I want to get my daughter back inside before she gets cold.” Said Harry as he pushed past the man and back into the house. He quietly relocked the door and closed the curtains to the sitting room. Harry climbed the steps as quietly as he could, dropping the post on the banister along the way. He cringed inwardly as the final step creaked under his foot as he stepped onto the landing.

“Harry?” he heard Hermione’s quiet, muffled voice from her bedroom.

“Yes?” he replied as he appeared in the doorway.

“Come here, both of you,” she smiled tiredly.

“You weren’t asleep for very long,” commented Harry.

“I don’t nap very well during the day,” she replied honestly as he surrendered Sienna to her, “I’m sure she was absolutely thrilled to see you.”

Harry shifted uneasily on her bed, but said nothing. Hermione smiled at his uneasiness.

“She adores you,” said Hermione finally. “I think I’m okay admitting that now.”

“Thank you,” he replied as he slumped back into her pillows and silently watched them.

“Harry,” she continued, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Yes,” he replied quickly, focusing on Hermione. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” she assured, “I … just …” she stuttered as she stared into his eyes. It was the first time she appreciated the greenness of them.

“Hermione?”

“I want to make this work,” she said seriously.

“Make what,” he asked cautiously.

“This,” she said, gesturing to Sienna, “us. Our family.”

“Are you sure?” he confronted, as he took Sienna back into his arms, “I’m alright-”

“No you’re not alright living like this. I know it bothers you that we’re not even acting like we’re married. I’m ready now.”

Harry stared at her in disbelief as she slowly moved towards him. Hermione lifted their daughter out of his arms and quietly exited the room. Hermione reappeared minutes later and Harry stood up to meet her.

“So,” he said awkwardly.

Hermione said nothing a she walked towards him and slowly wrapped her arms around his lean waist and buried her face in his chest. Harry embraced her tiny frame and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Hermione moved away from him and he slowly wove his hands around her neck and slowly bent his head down towards hers. Hermione nodded slightly, almost as if she was giving him permission. Harry pulled her body flush against his and pressed his mouth against hers in their first real kiss.

5. Author's Note

Hi Guys,

I’m sorry this isn’t an update, and to be honest with you, I haven’t written a word of the next chapter or even put much thought into it. I apologise, and I know it isn’t like me to slack on a story, but I’m sorry to report that I have to pause ‘Desperate’ temporarily.

Reality is taking a toll on me, I’m so busy with school right now, and I’m stage manager for the production of LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS, and it’s completely taking over my life right now, and isn’t leaving me much down time. What little free time I have is spent at work trying to make some money or I’m home asleep.

I’m unbelievably sorry again, and I haven’t abandoned this story, I will finish it, and I will try to work on the chapter when I finally get myself organised.