Propose in Haste (Repent at Leisure) by bubblegumlocks

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 23/03/2007
Last Updated: 03/05/2007
Status: Completed

Harry's in over his head. Who but Hermione to the rescue? Features airhead!Ginny and an
unlucky Harry.




1. untitled
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*Special thanks to marie_j_granger for the title!*

“Look! Look! Look!” Ginny squealed excitedly, showing off the fourth finger of her left hand.
She snatched her hand back, tossed her hair back and sighed happily, holding her hand to her face.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” She held her hands to her breast, clasped, and jumped up and down like a
little girl finally getting the pony she’s always wanted. She squealed again and turned in a
circle, smiling hugely, her red hair slapping the faces of those too close to her. “I’m getting
married!” she squealed girlishly. “I’m just so happy!” she shrieked.

“And I’ve just gone deaf,” Hermione muttered to herself. She looked around, anywhere but Ginny who
was now making a fool of herself, again, by jumping up and squealing again. Her eyes rested on
another redhead, Mrs. Weasley, who was beaming and crying and jumping with her daughter. Hermione
shuddered at the view and kept her vision moving.

Luna was looking at the shrill bride-to-be with her normal permanently glazed surprised look. Her
mouth was slightly open and she flinched when Ginny let out another horrific cutesy noise. Hermione
scooted towards the Ravenclaw enigma and asked her about the weather. Anything to keep her thoughts
from Bridezilla and Company. Luna failed to keep her entertained, however, and she was forced to
look at Ginny again.

And fawn over the hideous ring Harry had let her pick out. Sure it was a perfect, colourless,
princess cut diamond no doubt set in platinum and close to six carats. The monstrosity swallowed
Ginny’s stubby hand and Hermione wasn’t the least bit jealous. Of the ring, of course, the ring.
She would have preferred something more, well, tasteful, less gaudy. Hermione pretended to tear up
at the thought of her friends “finally” getting engaged but inside she was gagging.

Oedipus complex much Harry?

Hermione sighed again and made her excuses the best she could without vomiting all over Ginny’s
shoes. If she shoved that ring in her face one more time Hermione was sure she would have ripped it
off Ginny’s stubby finger and shoved it someplace else. Not to mention that she’d probably rip some
of her hair out too, give her something to really squeal about.

*~*

Ron shoved another firewhiskey in his hands. “Congratulations on finally plucking up the courage,
Oh Mighty Brave Gryffindor.” Their company loudly guffawed at Ron’s joke while Harry just smiled.
“And making her legal,” he heard someone mutter out of Ron’s earshot.

He was miserable. He again pretended to drink as they toasted him and Ginny and their impending
“shag fest”. He kept a sour smile on his face, watching his closest friends drink themselves into
the night. Any excuse, he figured. He could have told them he was gay and buggering Malfoy and they
(except Ron) would have celebrated his coming out. And exchanged a few coins for bets no doubt.
Weasleys were *always* trying to make a few quid.

He dodged the next round and walked to the bar for a glass of water. He watched as Seamus, ever the
Irishman, initiated a drinking game involving, well, not too much imagination and way too much
alcohol.

Figuring they wouldn’t miss him, he walked out to the alley and apparated home. He opened his
bureau, shifted around a few things and took out a velvet-encased box. He crossed to his bed and
gingerly opened it, sighing.

His mother’s engagement ring winked at him. Small, delicate, an emerald matching their eyes,
surrounded by two smaller diamonds. Pretty, not ostentatious, like the awful monstrosity he knew
Ginny would like better, never mind appreciating the subtle beauty and history of his mother’s
ring. He snapped the box shut and replaced it before leaving his room.

*~*

Hermione stared absently at the book. She knew she had been on the same page for the last thirty
minutes but she couldn’t clear the squeals from her thoughts.

She scowled and set the book aside, curling up into the chair. Unconsciously she crossed her arms
over her chest and glared at the floor. *How could he? How could he possible stand that,
those,* noises *she makes?* Hermione smirked. *I bet she sounds like a monkey when they
have sex. I wonder if she gets everything her way there, too?* She brought her hands up to
massage her temples. *Must…Not…Go…There…*

She continued to scowl and stare as thoughts of Ginny’s announcement from the day before shrieked
and jumped and squealed through her head.

She heard a crack but didn’t turn around, knowing she was safe because only two people could get
past her wards and one of them was in her chair scowling at the floor. “Hey Harry,” she said
grumpily.

“Hey” as he sat across from her.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, both staring at the carpet. If looks could kill, the
carpet would be on fire, burnt to a crisp, swept up and thrown into the hamper to be taken to the
dumpster the next morning before finally coming to rest several hundred miles away, relieved to not
be stared at anymore.

Finally, “This quiet is really nice.”

She laughed.

“No really. All Ginny ever does is talk. Silence needs to be filled with the sound of her voice,”
he looked at her, grinning. “Or the moment is wasted or some such crap.”

Hermione looked up at him and smiled. “So, tell me, when she said yes, could you understand her at
all or was she too busy shattering glass with her shrieks and squeals?”

Harry just looked at her, then hung his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let it go
this far.”

Hermione reached over and patted his hand. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,
Harry.”

He sighed. “My own personal hell. One big happy Weasley family. I can see it in Molly’s eyes.” He
paused and looked her over. “How’d you escape it?”

She laughed. “I have balls, Harry.” She shrugged. “The sorting hat put me in Gryffindor for a
reason.”

Harry chuckled. “Maybe I should think of why it wanted to put me in Slytherin and come up with a
way out of this.”

She smiled sympathetically. “You could just say you were gay and buggering Malfoy. They’d leave you
so fast you wouldn’t have to explain.”

His jaw dropped, then they both collapsed into giggles. “Seamus would just toast me and Fred would
make a few Galleons” in between laughs.

She shook her head. “You could leave town, change your name, adopt a disguise.”

He smiled and sighed. “Right. I’d have to drag you with me otherwise you’d get hexed to tell where
I was.”

She shrugged again. “I wouldn’t have to know.”

He protested, “I couldn’t leave and not tell you where I was! You’d worry yourself sick. *I’d*
worry *myself* sick over leaving you in the dark.”

She patted his hand again. “Ginny doesn’t deserve you.”

They sat in silence again.

“Hey!”

Hermione looked at him. “Oh no.” She shook her head vehemently. “I know that look Potter. There is
no way you’re roping me into anything this time.”

“Please?” with his best puppy dog eyes.

She looked at him for a moment, then relented. “What’s your brilliant idea,” resigned.

“We could elope!”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“We could elope!” He grinned at her.

“Honestly Harry. You just proposed to Ginny. What would the Weasley’s—Ron think?”

“Oh, I don’t give a rat’s arse about Ginny anymore and you know it. At least the way she wants me
to. I thought that’s what I wanted after Voldemort. I thought she’s what I wanted, but it’s been
three years, Hermione. Things have changed. *I’ve* changed. She’s changed. She’s just not,
well, for me, I guess. She’s too perfect, at least for me. She needs someone who appreciates her
that way, not someone like me. *I* need someone that will put up with me, the way I am. I
don’t think she gets me, knows me. I thought we’ve been happy, but seeing her face the other night,
I just can’t. This has gone on too long.”

“You, Potter, are the world’s biggest weenie. I knew you didn’t want to hurt her feelings in the
beginning. But you should have said something after a year at least!”

He hung his head. “I know. I tried. But every time I tried to talk to her she snogged me
and—“

“Ah, yes. You thought with your *other* head,” she snickered. “Too bad it can’t get you out of
this.”

“I didn’t even mean to propose! I was trying, honestly, to ask her about where she sees herself in
the future and—“ He was interrupted by Hermione’s loud peal of laughter.

“Oh, Harry, that’s classic!”

He frowned at her. “I was trying to give her a hint and tell her she needs to grow up and get a
job, basically, but, well. You’ve seen her. I think she’s already set the date.” He slumped in the
chair.

“How did she get the ring then?”

He sighed and turned bright red. “Uh, well, she realized I didn’t have a ring and thought I was so
nervous that I forgot it. So, I, uh, told her she could pick one out on her own.” He looked up at
her. “I am so screwed. Please help me. Please? Elope with me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And how are we going to pull this off? All of Ginny’s stuff is at your flat.”
She considered for a moment. “And where is *my* ring?”

He chuckled then got up to hug her. “You’re the best friend a guy could ever have. And I’ll be
right back.”

Before she could ask or say anything he disapparated. Hermione sat back in the chair and scowled at
the floor again. She got up and crossed to the desk to pull out some parchment and her favorite
quill.

Harry cracked back in. “Hermione.”

She turned around and stood in front of him. He got down on one knee and blushed. “I didn’t even do
this for Ginny.”

She smacked him on the shoulder and tried to pull him up.

“No, we should do this properly.” He cleared his throat and took a velvet-covered box out of his
pocket, opened it and held it up to Hermione.

“I know after this I’m going to owe you huge, but Hermione, would you do me the honour of becoming
my wife? There is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, actually.” He blushed again and
looked up at her sincerely, waiting her reply.

She smiled softly as she looked down at him. She nodded and held out her left hand to him. “Of
course, you great git. I don’t know why I’ve agreed to this.” She felt the cold metal slip over her
knuckles to fit snugly against her skin. He kissed her hand and stood up. They embraced.

“Thank you so much for doing this for me.” He kissed her cheek and started pacing. “Now
what?”

She laughed and sat at her desk, twirling the ring a little. “Oh, wow, Harry. This ring, it’s
breathtaking.”

“It was my mother’s.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh Harry, you didn’t have to give me this. You could have just, I
don’t know, transfigured something for me to wear.”

“There is no one else I’d rather have given the ring to.”

She smiled at his back and turned to the desk. “First, we need a reason why we’ve decided to
elope.”

They were both quiet, then

“How about—“

“No, you go first.”

She laughed. “It’s your game, you get first idea.”

“How about,” he stopped and turned to her. “I had too much to drink at my celebration, came back
here and took advantage of you, got you pregnant, felt extremely guilty yet happy at the same time
because I’ve always wanted a family and now I have to marry you,” he said all in one breath.

She looked at him. “I’ll not have you be the bad guy in this. Ron would never forgive you; Molly
wouldn’t ever speak to you again. I don’t want you to ruin your relationship with them on my
account.” She thought, the tip of her quill in her mouth. “Now, what would be a reason for me to
become, well, indisposed so we could take advantage of each other?”

He chuckled and struck a pose. “How about you saw my manly physique accidentally in the shower
and—“

“Had to get rid of the horrid sight by drinking myself to forget?” She smiled innocently at him
while he scowled back. “Actually, I do rather like you’re first idea, but we need to come up with a
way for it to be consensual. And we can’t get eloped right away because you only supposedly
ravished me last night and it will take at least a month for me to know if I’m pregnant or not. I
mean, I haven’t been on a contraceptive for a while and we were both supposedly too drunk to
remember a spell, so I say our marriage should take place in six weeks, what say you?”

“You think too much.”

She threw a crumpled piece of parchment at his head.

“Hmm… Why would *Hermione* be drunk?” He shook his head and continued pacing.

They tossed ideas back and forth a bit longer until—

“Okay, it’s farfetched, but…” She blushed. “I’ve always had a secret crush on you and when you
apparated into my flat drunk I couldn’t resist? I mean, you’ve just crushed all of my hopes by
proposing to Ginny, so I *have* to get back at her somehow, right? So I seduce you.”

He smiled wearily. “Farfetched? That will have to do. I’m exhausted after all of the shagging we’ve
supposedly done. That I’m not supposed to exactly remember, either.” He crossed to her. “Thanks
again, Hermione. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.” He kissed her cheek and apparated
home.

*~*

As the six week mark came closer, Hermione’s friends and coworkers started getting concerned.
Normally Hermione was impeccably turned out in professional robes, always on time and never
hurried. Lately her appearance was haggard, as if she’d been sleepless, and she often looked a
little green around the gills. “Are you okay?” they’d ask. After her boss heard her vomiting again
in the restroom she made her schedule an appointment at St. Mungo’s. “And don’t come back until
you’re 100%!”

Their friends noticed Harry and Hermione were extremely awkward as of late and tended to avoid one
another as much as possible. They’d jump apart if they happened to touch and they wouldn’t speak to
each other at all.

In public, that is. They visited each other in a secluded Muggle park to enjoy their exploits.
Harry complained about Ginny’s pushiness and the wedding plans and Hermione laughed about her
boss.

The next Sunday they planned their “big fight”. It was the monthly entire family brunch at the
Burrow. After the meal and while most of the Weasleys were dozing in the den, Hermione walked
briskly up to Harry and asked to have a private word outside, all the while wringing her hands
nervously. The Weasley’s that were awake noticed her nervousness and Harry’s concern for his friend
as they walked outside.

They stood in silence, then started yelling nonsense at each other, hoping no one was
eavesdropping. Hermione started to cry, then ran back inside through the den, her hair flying and
tears pouring before she left. The family was stunned at her sudden departure and even more
confused when Harry entered, his expression stony and guarded. He kissed Molly and Ginny both on
the cheek, politely said goodbye and left. The Weasley’s all stared at one another before returning
to their usual activity a moment later.

*~*

“I’d say two more days. That way it looks like you’re considering it, then you make the plans to do
it. Okay?”

He nodded. “I can’t believe it’s almost here.”

She sighed. “Cold feet?”

He turned to her then took her hands in his. “Not at all.” He looked into her eyes. “Actually, I’m
a bit excited. We’re getting married in a few days!”

She smiled. “So, no guilt over Ginny?”

“I think if I let her keep the ring she’ll be a little bit happier. She looked more excited when I
bought that than when she said yes. What about you, do you feel guilty?”

She sighed. “No, not really. I mean, I’m helping you out, something I’ve always done and I’ve never
felt guilty before.” She removed her hands from Harry’s then stood up. “This is not at *all*
how I pictured I’d get married. I always wanted my dad to give me away and have a pretty dress and
flowers and—“ she sighed again, then turned a bright smile to Harry.

He stood up and crossed to her, putting his finger under her chin and lifted her head slightly.
“You’ll still get that eventually.” He hugged her tightly. “I still can’t thank you enough for
this.” When he pulled away he was startled to see her crying. “Hey now.”

“I’m sorry Harry. It’s just that, this isn’t real. It’s like you said, I’ll get my dream
eventually. But I want it now. I always pictured finding one man, marrying him and never letting go
or looking back. How long is this, our marriage going to last Harry? How long before we dissolve it
and go back to our normal lives?” She sobbed and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I can’t answer that. What I’ve said is true, though. I can’t honestly think of anyone else I’d
rather spend the rest of my life with.”

“Right now, you mean.”

“Yes, right now. Today, tomorrow.” He sighed and smoothed her hair. “Hermione, you’re not just my
best friend anymore,” he whispered.

*~*

The morning of the big day was cloudy and dreary and not what she wanted her wedding to be like.
Before she left her bed, she catalogued everything she was supposed to do and say. Midway through
her lists, Harry arrived.

“Oh Harry. I’m so scared.” She flung herself into his arms.

“Shh…shh..” he comforted. “Let’s get married. I’ll take care of you and the baby.”

“No, I couldn’t. This is my responsibility. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. What about
Ginny? I can’t do this to her.”

“I don’t know Hermione. But I can’t let my child grow up without his or her parents.”

She sighed. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted to betray you or
Ginny.” She dissolved into tears. “I feel so guilty!”

She peeked one eye open when he choked, then swatted his arm. “Oh stop. You know I can’t cry
convincingly. Let me get dressed and then we’ll go.”

“Can I watch?”

She swatted his shoulder and shoved him out of the room.

Harry paced as he waited. He walked to her desk and scribbled two short notes, one of apology and
regret and on of ‘please don’t hex me it was an accident but we both need you there’. He whistled
for Hedwig and sent her on her way.

“Did you send them?” Hermione asked as she left her room.

“Just now.”

“And now we wait.”

He nodded tersely and sat down, deliberately keeping his eyes off of her and looking decidedly
uncomfortable. She propped herself against the wall and waited.

Soon, a knock, followed by “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

They shared a grin, then sobered as Hermione went to open the door. Ron pushed passed her and
punched Harry in the nose. She screamed and crossed to Harry. She helped him mop up his face, then
healed him with her wand.

Ron stared at them both, Hermione resting a protective hand on her belly and Harry holding her
other hand.

“Ron, I—“ Harry squeezed her hand for comfort. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. It
just did,” she finished lamely. “I did not set out to hurt you or Ginny, especially Ginny.”

Harry spoke up. “And I will not let my unborn child be hurt by our mistakes.” He stood up and faced
Ron. “We’re doing this right. We’re getting married so we can raise the child to know both of its
parents, in the same home, to know it’s loved and cared for. And we’d like you to be our
witness.”

Ron continued to stare. “Bloody hell.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re serious.” He
turned around, then “alright. I don’t forgive you. I *can’t* forgive you, not yet. I mean,
Ginny’s my sister, and you—“ he sighed. “But I’ll be there for you. When?”

Hermione sighed and looked over at Harry before turning back to Ron. “Now. We’re on our way to the
Ministry to get the papers signed, then—”

“Now?” he squeaked, eerily reminiscent of his younger sister.

“Yes, Ron. Now. She’s already, what, six weeks pregnant?”

Ron shook his head. “I don’t *believe* you two.” He looked from Hermione to Harry, glancing at
their clasped hands. “Alright. Lead the way.”

*~*

Ron watched as his best friends exchanged vows. His best *friends*. His *best friends*.
He could have sworn he’d never seen either of them more at peace, though. He thought he saw a
glimmer of fear when their kiss was announced, but it could have been her hormones or something. He
couldn’t *believe* them but he had to admit, they *were* happy.

Harry leaned forward slightly, looking into Hermione’s eyes. She met him halfway and their lips met
in a soft chaste kiss that shook the foundations. Harry suckled lightly on her lower lip before
pulling away and taking her hand again. He smiled at her, then at Ron.

“You are crazy. Mum is going to kill you. Ginny is going to *murder* you.”

The newlyweds shared a glance, silently communicating as they’d always been able to. Hermione spoke
first.

“You don’t think you could get Ginny to meet us later, could you? We need to speak with her face to
face.”

Ron sighed and scowled at them. “I refuse to be a presence at this meeting.”

*~*

Ginny crumpled the parchment angrily before throwing it on the floor at their feet. She walked over
to it and stomped on it, squishing it into the floor with her heel, glaring silently at Hermione.
She tossed her hair, then looked at the wall, lost in thought, no doubt planning the best way to
disembowel her as painfully as possible.

She blinked, twice, then clutched the ring in her hand, the diamond cutting into her palm. She
stalked out of the room, tears falling silently as she left the man of her dreams, her
*fiancé* and his *wife*, her supposed best friend. She started to throw the ring on the
ground, just outside their door, but…

“He said I could keep it,” she said haughtily, throwing her hair around. “And keep it I shall.” She
put the ring back on her finger, looking eagerly at it, then flounced away, leaving a trail of
sparkles and fairies in her wake, or so she hoped.



2. untitled
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*Thanks to all who’ve reviewed! I was asked the same question by almost all of them, so
hopefully this section clears that up. Thanks again to marie_j_granger for the title!*

The first day, after meeting with Ginny, was a normal enough day for the newlyweds. Harry moved
his things into Hermione’s flat, and spent most of the room rearranging her guest room into his
own. She spent the afternoon wincing at loud noises and reading while curled up in her chair, a
protective hand splayed artistically across her stomach. She heard the shower run and finally Harry
plodded into the room.

“I should start showing soon,” she spoke softly, not looking up from her book.

He looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

“Ginny might wonder if our story is true.” She paused. “Or, the rest of the Weasleys will wonder,
in any case.”

Harry nodded and sat on the couch. She watched him scoot to the edge, as close as he could get to
her without sitting in her lap. She sighed as he looked up at her, as if it were her idea, and a
brilliant one at that.

“Harry.”

“Yes dear?”

She scoffed. “I’m supposed to be six weeks along by now, right?” She continued before he could nod.
“That gives us, er, two or three weeks before I would not be able to hide it any longer. My mother
told me she was a late bloomer, but there are some like Molly that probably show right away.” She
tapped her chin thoughtfully. Harry, still watching her, grew progressively more confused. “So, I
say I start showing between now and three weeks from now.”

Harry looked at her blankly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Or, I have the miscarriage now. I’m still at a high risk rate, only being six weeks along. And
being Muggleborn trying to have a magical child probably causes a lot of complications. My mother
had a difficult birth with me; that’s why I don’t have any siblings. I’m sure my magical signature
was too much for her reproductive system and—“

“Fascinating as this all is, and no doubt you’ll want to do further research, but what is it you’ve
decided?”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she could speak. “I’m sorry, Harry. My mouth
went ahead of me. It truly is interesting, though, and I’m sure if I can have more facts my—“

“Hermione, dear,” Harry sighed.

She nodded. “Right. There’s another thing we need to consider. The, er, wizard who performed our
ceremony, well, he—“

Harry looked at her, then away at the fireplace. She could see his cheeks pinken. “He mentioned in
cases like ours, if, after the child were born, er,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Right.” Hermione couldn’t contain her blush. “The conditions he set forth were that, upon birth,
we’d have no less than two lunar cycles to decide our compatibility for the sake of said child, or
the marriage and bond be null. Upon miscarriage or accident, we’d have until the next new moon to
decide. Which, if I miscarry today, would be this weekend.”

They looked at each other. “I’ll start showing. I’ll fall at work sometime and go see a Healer.
They’ll tell me to take it easy for a while, not do any strenuous magic, that sort of thing.”

Harry edged closer. “We need to finish this soon. I can’t avoid the Weasleys forever. We’re going
to have to tell the truth sometime.”

Hermione scoffed. “They won’t have to know if that’s what you want, Harry. I really don’t mind
being the scapegoat here.” She put her hand over his on the arm of the couch. “We’ll do this
another two weeks. I’ll be eight weeks along by then, and we’d have about two weeks until the next
new moon. It’ll be okay,” she finished softly.

Harry looked at her closely. “I hope so.” He stood up and started to walk towards his room. “I’m
going to owl Molly.”

She nodded and picked her book up again.

*~*

“Hermione?”

She opened her eyes, rubbing them before looking around the room. It was still dark, but a strange
green light lit up the room. She heard her name again before realizing it came from the
fireplace.

“Ron! Come on over,” she said warmly.

As he appeared in her living room, she stood up, yawning. They embraced.

“Did you not go to bed last night?”

She shook her head wryly. “I must have fallen asleep while reading.”

“Where’s Harry? Didn’t he notice you weren’t in bed?”

Hermione blushed lightly and shrugged. “He went to bed before I did.” She looked around the dark
room. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Oh,” Ron blushed. “Mum’s in a snit, and I had to leave before she started in on me.”

“Ah, she must have received Harry’s owl.”

“He told her by owl?”

Hermione smiled. “Harry’s only a Gryffindor when he wants to be, it appears.”

“Hey!”

Ron and Hermione turned towards the voice. Harry was walking barefooted towards them, clad only in
a pair of dark green boxer shorts. He yawned before smiling at his best friend. “What are you doing
here so early?”

Ron sighed. “Mum’s having a conniption thanks to you. Why’d you have to go and tell her by
owl?”

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t want to be kicked out of the Burrow, and I didn’t want her to be over
here when I told her in case she might upset Hermione and the baby.”

The boys looked at her as if to say something. She blinked, and swallowed, focusing her gaze away
from Harry’s bare chest. Honestly, it’s not like she hadn’t seen him half naked before. Of course,
just not in her living room.

“Thank you, Harry, but I’m sure I would have been fine with Molly. I’m a big girl.”

Ron snickered. “You’re about to be anyway.”

She cuffed his shoulder, and started to walk from the room. “I’ll be in the shower.”

Harry watched her walk away, a soft look on his face. Shaking his head slightly, he nervously
looked at his best friend. “Have a seat?”

Ron glared at him before taking Hermione’s usual chair. He crossed his legs and waited for Harry to
sit down.

“Ron, I—“

“I still don’t understand. Why’d you owl Mum? Why’d you do this?”

Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. “We never meant for it to happen.”

“Obviously,” Ron snorted.

Harry glared at him before continuing. “It was after the celebration. We were all sloshed. I guess
instead of apparating home I came here. I’ve been here often enough, and I guess some part of me
wanted to see how Hermione was taking this.”

Ron raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, oh hell, I don’t know Ron. I was here and then she kissed me. And I guess some part of me
reacted,” another snort, “and I just didn’t stop it, *couldn’t* stop it. I’m still not sure if
I even wanted to stop it. We’re best friends, just like we’ve always been, and this never should
have happened. But, in a way, I’m glad. Like I’ve said before, I’ve always wanted a family, and who
better to start it with than someone I’ve known for so long?”

“Besides my sister?”

Harry winced. “Face it, Ron, she’s still too young. You know this. She’s always looked up to me as
some hero, some demigod.”

“Harry, you are a hero.”

He frowned. “That’s it, though. Hermione has never put me on that sort of pedestal before. I’ve
always been speccy Harry to her, the Harry she’s had to save, not some prince to save her from some
beast. Your sister wants someone who will rescue her when she gets too deep. I’m tired of that. I’m
tired of chasing after her when she flies too far away.” He ran a hand through his hair. “With
Hermione, I’m stable. *We’re* stable, just like we’ve always been. I know I can always come to
her, just like she can to me.”

Ron watched as Harry looked up at him. He thought a moment before replying. “I won’t deny that
there has always been something between the two of you. But with Ginny, why didn’t you tell her
this before you proposed?”

“That’s exactly what I said.” Hermione came into the room, smelling fresh and sitting next to
Harry. He automatically put an arm around her before glaring at Ron. He turned back to her, and
they shared a look. She seemed to nod her acceptance before Harry spoke again.

“Actually, Ron, that’s what I was trying to do when she thought I was proposing.”

“What?” he asked incredulously. Hermione laughed.

“I had actually sat down to talk with her about getting a job, and maybe settling herself down a
bit. You know, becoming a bit more independent from me and Molly. But she saw me with a serious
look on my face, noticed we were sitting closely and jumped in my arms before I could even start.
She started yelling yes over and over. I didn’t know what to do!”

“And the ring?”

Harry turned red when Hermione nudged him. “Well, she thought I had been too nervous, so she picked
me up and took me to a jeweler’s right away. I couldn’t just say no in front of the man!”

Hermione laughed while Ron shook his head. “You were right about him choosing to be a Gryffindor,
Hermione.” He looked at Harry again. “Why’d you go out celebrating with us that night then? If you
had told us then, this,” he waved between Harry and Hermione, “would never have happened.”

Harry hung his head. “I know. But it’s too late now.” He stood up. “I need to head to work.” He
dropped a kiss on Hermione’s forehead before leaving the room.

Ron stood up and walked in front of Hermione. “Why did *you* do this?”

“Ron, don’t start this. It’s not personal; it’s not against you.”

“How am I supposed to feel? You said you didn’t have any feelings for him, or me. How am I supposed
to believe anything you say now?”

She closed her eyes and leaned against the couch. “Please, sit down. I can’t stand when you tower
over me like that.” He reluctantly sat next to her. “Ron, I know I told you that. At the time, it
was true.”

“At the time? The time was less than a month before all of this happened!”

“I did some thinking.”

“You did some thinking.”

“Yes! I did! That’s what I do! I lied when I said it wasn’t either of you. It’s always been one of
you though. For the longest time, I honestly thought it would be you. But then,” she stopped.

Ron glared at her. “Lavender?”

Hermione sighed. “Not only Lavender. I knew you liked me our fourth year; the jealousy over Harry
and Krum were obvious to everyone. Part of me realized it was Harry, would always be Harry in fifth
year though. But then I knew he’d never see me like that, so I tried to look at you again. Then, it
was too late, and you made me sick when you spent all of your time with her. I wanted you for
myself, at least to see, and I couldn’t. That’s what got to me most that year; that I couldn’t have
either of you. During the Hunt, though, I grew to respect you both more, and I knew any
relationship we’d have together would not work. I can’t get past seeing you as my brother. Harry, I
could, most of the time. I thought he was untouchable, with Ginny, so I could always dream.” She
looked away, as if lost in that dream. “You both have been my best friends, my only best friends,
for so long, it’s different. Yet here I am, married to Harry and carrying his child. I don’t know,
Ron, I just don’t know.”

She threw herself on him, sobbing and crying. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, rubbing
circles in her back.

“Um, Hermione?”

She pulled back, her face blotchy and red. “Ron?”

“I, I think I understand. Everything happened too fast for both of you, and essentially you were
both in the wrong place mentally at the same time. I guess I can accept that.”

Hermione threw her arms around him. “Thank you! Do you forgive us?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have to.”

“Oh look at me, all red and wet after I’ve already showered. I’m sorry, but I’ll be right back, I
need to freshen up before I go to work.”

“That’s okay, Hermione. I’ll just go. I need to head back home to see if Mum’s okay by now.”

Hermione hugged him again. “Tell Molly we’re sorry and we’ll come see her to explain soon.”

Ron nodded, and stepped through the fireplace.

*~*

Hermione pointed her wand at her face, and all traces of tears were gone. “Harry?”

He stepped out into the hall. “What?”

She walked towards him, a frown on her face. “You kissed my forehead when you left the room.”

He looked confused. “I did?”

“Yes, you did. In front of Ron. This is getting a bit too realistic, Harry.”

“It is? Isn’t it supposed to be?”

She sighed heavily. “Must you answer me with a question?”

He smiled. “What do you want me to do?”

She glowered, then shrugged. “I guess it makes sense, though. I mean, I *am* pregnant, and you
*are* my husband. I guess you’re supposed to be protective of me.” She paused. “It’s just
weird, I guess. I’ll just have to get used to it.”

He nodded and she apparated away.

*~*

Two weeks later, Harry was sitting in his office, running through some ordinary paperwork.

“Harry, there’s an emergency owl waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Olivia, I’ll take it in here.” Harry shut the door, the post in his hand. It was from St.
Mungo’s. He opened it, his hands shaking at the contents. He hurriedly grabbed his cloak and
stepped back outside his office.

“Olivia, I won’t be back today. Hermione, er, my wife, had an accident at work and I have to go to
St. Mungo’s right away.” She nodded, and he ran towards the elevator.

Once outside, he apparated to the waiting room. He approached the nearest Healer in lime green
robes and asked where Hermione was. Finally he found her, lying in a bed in a bare room by
herself.

“I thought we were just faking it.”

Hermione frowned. “Well, I thought so too. But apparently the Healers found something wrong with
me,” she scowled. “I slipped and fell at work on purpose, but I accidentally knocked myself out in
the process. I woke up here not too long ago.”

Harry looked around. “Is the baby okay?”

She sighed. “They haven’t said anything to me yet.”

“Oh.” He sat on the only chair and pulled it close to her bed. “I hope it’s okay.”

She smiled and took his hand. “Me too.”

They sat in silence, still holding hands, for a short minute until a Healer entered the room. “Good
afternoon, Mrs. Potter.”

Hermione started, but recovered quickly. “Hello. Is everything okay?”

“Well, first I’ll need you to tell me what happened, and then I’ll let you know what I know.”

Hermione frowned. “But—“

“Just listen to the Healer, honey,” Harry interjected.

A scowling Hermione continued. “I slipped and fell at work. I think I was taking a corner too
quickly and when I slipped I hit my head probably on the potted plant in the corner. The next thing
I remember is waking up here alone.”

The Healer nodded. “Anything else I should know about your medical conditions?”

Hermione exchanged a nervous glance with Harry. “Everything I say here goes no farther than this
room, or the patient-Healer relationship is compromised.”

The Healer nodded. “I understand, Mrs. Potter.”

“Right. I am *not* pregnant, though I have been claiming to be. The slip was *not* an
accident, though falling on the plant was. I had *no intention* of being checked into St.
Mungo’s.” Harry gripped her hand, trying to keep her calm.

The Healer nodded again. “Well, it looks live you’ve had a miscarriage, Mrs. Potter. I’m sorry, Mr.
Potter. I understand you both were looking forward to starting a family. The fall you took was a
nasty one, and if you hadn’t been knocked unconscious, I’d say the baby would still be safe. As it
is, you need to not do any strenuous magic for the next few weeks, nor can you have any sexual
relations for two weeks while you recover. As a Muggleborn, these precautions are necessary for the
safety of yourself and any children you plan to have in the future. If you normally take
contraceptives, or use a spell, you will need to wait until those two weeks have finished before
you begin your normal regime. I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. You are free to leave
the hospital.”

The Healer winked and left the room.

The Potters exchanged a glance before Harry handed Hermione her clothes. He politely turned his
back while she changed, and they left the hospital hand in hand.

*~*

“The Burrow?”

Harry sighed and nodded. “We need to tell Molly and Ron what happened today.”

“Okay. You’ll need to help me remember to act a little weak, like helping me into chairs and
such.”

Harry smiled. “That’s easy enough, dear.”

She swatted him. “That’s enough of that, thank you very much, Mr. Potter.”

They landed in front of the Weasley’s home again hand in hand. Harry put an arm around Hermione and
helped her walk slowly up the walkway. Molly opened the door and watched the couple walk towards
her with her hands on her hips.

“I ought to have sent you a Howler, Harry James Potter. You should have told me in person you two
were marrying.” She swept them into the house with a gesture before turning on them. Hermione sat
at the kitchen table gingerly. “Now, what have we here?”

Hermione burst into tears and put her head down on the kitchen table. Harry stood behind her, one
hand on her shoulders, the other in his hair. “Molly, the reason we married, is, well, I got
Hermione pregnant two months ago.”

“Two months?”

He sighed and looked away. “Right after Ginny announced we were getting married.”

“I see.”

“When Hermione found out, she told me right away. We had a huge row, but then I realized that I
couldn’t leave my child fatherless. We had to get married, and we had to quickly. You understand,
don’t you?” Harry looked at her pleadingly, a look well recognized by the mother of seven.

Molly nodded reluctantly. “What’s this now?”

Hermione sobbed loudly. Harry took a deep breath. “Today at work, Hermione fell pretty badly. The
Healer said she had a miscarriage.”

“Oh, Hermione.” Molly rushed to her side, pulling her up into a big hug the matron was famous among
her boys for. “I am so sorry, I know how it is.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Hermione cried. “But I was just accepting it, looking forward to
having this with Harry, and now the baby’s gone!”

“The baby’s gone?” Ron walked into the kitchen. He took in the scene and immediately rushed to
Hermione’s other side. “Are *you* okay?”

She nodded slightly. “It’s for the best, Ron. It never should have happened, and now it’s
done.”

Ron looked at Harry’s suddenly pale face. “Harry?”

“As long as Hermione’s fine, I’m fine,” he choked out.

Ron accepted the answer, but was still concerned. “Can I get you anything Hermione?”

“Oh, me! Would you like some tea?” Molly stood up quickly, wringing her hands in her apron.

Hermione shook her head to both questions and leaned towards Harry. “We should be going. The Healer
told me I should take it easy for the next two weeks in particular. I’ll see you later.” She
practically collapsed in Harry’s arms as he walked with her outside.

*~*

Ginny flounced down the stairs and into the kitchen, her hair streaming elegantly behind her. She
saw her mother and brother staring gloomily out of the window, but paid no attention save to her
glittering ring.

“Hullo!” she sang, startling them both.

“Oh, hey, Ginny,” Ron spoke first. Molly still watched the window.

“Did I hear voices down here?”

Ron nodded and looked to his mother for help.

“Yes, dear, Harry and Hermione were here just a minute ago.”

Ginny’s face turned sour. “Oh, them.” She flipped her hair back. “Is there tea?”

Ron scowled, but passed her the newly made pot. “You don’t care what happened?”

“I wasn’t aware that anything *had* happened. What have those two been scheming away at
now?”

“Well, you know they got married two weeks ago, right?”

She huffed. “Of course I do. *Everyone* knows. What else?”

“Do you know why?”

“Of course I know the biggest scandal of the year! It’s in every newspaper! That witch seduced him
on the day of our engagement due to jealousy and serve her right for getting pregnant! My Harry is
just too noble, though, to let her alone. They married because they had to,” she nodded
primly.

Ron rolled his eyes. “They married because Harry was looking forward to raising his child with her.
Well, now they won’t be. Hermione fell and miscarried.”

“Oh, how simply dreadful!” Ginny exclaimed. She sipped her tea. “I suppose the marriage is off
then?” She surreptitiously glanced at her ring.

“We don’t know. They didn’t say anything.”

“Well, it will have to be. If they haven’t consummated by the end of her term, then the marriage is
null and void. Now that she’s miscarried, they’ll have two and a half weeks to do the deed or else
he’ll be free to marry me!”

Ron looked sick. “Why two and a half weeks? And how do you know that?”

“*Witch Weekly* interviewed the wizard who performed the ceremony. The bonds he usually
presides over must be consummated within a certain amount of time, or the magic, well, evaporates.
He has specific rules for the time limits. He knew the situation, so he knew which time limits to
impose. If that witch miscarried today, then the Healer probably told her to rest two weeks. That’s
what Mum always said they’d told her. The wizard said he’d give them until the next new moon on a
miscarriage, so that’s about two and a half weeks from now.”

“Oh, well that makes sense, I guess,” he said absently.

Ginny nodded, a lock of red hair gracefully falling into her face. She tucked it behind her ear.
“It makes perfect sense. It means that if they truly didn’t want to be married, they wouldn’t have
to be. So, if they don’t, then Harry’ll be free to marry me!”

“Thanks, Gin. I’ll see you later, Mum.” Ron left quickly, trying to catch up with his best friends.
They had to know the time restrictions, but not about Ginny’s continued designs on Harry.



3. untitled
-----------

*Thanks again for all the reviews! Hope you enjoy this next to last part.*

“Harry! Hermione!”

The couple looked towards the door. It flew open as Ron ran inside, breathing heavily.

“Ron?”

“Did you know the wizard who married you interviewed with *Witch Weekly*?”

Hermione shook her head, aghast. “No, we didn’t. What did it say?”

“Well, Ginny told me the gist of it. That particular wizard specializes in your type of emergency
bonding. He’s very good at setting time limits for, er, consummation.” Ron couldn’t keep the blush
from his face.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Harry. “And?”

“You have two and a half weeks before your marriage is void. And Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Ginny’s still after you. She’s positively gleeful about this. She can’t wait for you to be free
from ‘that witch’ as she calls Hermione, so she can marry you.”

Harry paled and Hermione turned red. “’That witch?’ Is that what she called me?”

Ron nodded. “She refuses to say your name anymore.”

“What? She used to be one of my best friends!”

Ron just looked at her. “Do you blame her?”

She sighed. “I guess not. So she knows about the miscarriage and the time limits. Harry?”

He swallowed. “I, er, don’t know what to say. Thanks for letting us know, Ron.”

“No problem.” He looked at Hermione, who was still rather angry. “I’ll just be on my way. I can
tell you have a lot to talk about.”

*~*

Harry sat down heavily next to Hermione on the couch. “What are we going to do?” he asked, running
his hands through his hair.

Hermione reached out to stop him, taking a hand and looking at the fireplace as if it held all the
answers. “Well, we’re still married for another two and a half weeks. We can let it run out
naturally and you’ll be free to marry Ginny,” she said quickly. “But that leaves you where we
started. You were trying to escape her when you came up with this brilliant plan that is somehow
now backfiring on us,” she finished sarcastically.

“You’re my best friend.”

She just looked at him. “I know, Harry, but that doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have
married in the first place! You’re just—“ she paused, and threw her hands up in the air. “You’re
just using me to get away from Ginny because you’re too much of a coward to tell her no.”

“Do you really feel like I’m using you?” he asked softly, catching her hand and squeezing it
lightly.

Hermione sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I haven’t *minded* doing this. I’ve always helped
you, I’m not going to stop *now*. But I don’t know how *else* to help you now. I’ve done
all I can and this time it just isn’t enough.” She sighed again, looking back to the
fireplace.

“These two weeks with you have made me realize that I never really loved Ginny. I mean, I thought I
did, and the thought of her helped me get through long nights away from everyone during the Hunt.
But I never really was away from everyone; I had Ron and you.”

“You’ve always had us.”

“That’s the thing. I’ve *always* had you. I’ve never had Ginny, not like I could have. Some
part of me has always been set aside for you. You’ve been one of the two most important people in
my life for so long now, Hermione, and I can’t bear the thought of losing that.” Harry sighed. “I
know if I marry Ginny, there’s a good chance I won’t get to spend very much time with you without
dealing with her jealousy. But if we break this off, I’ll practically be forced to marry her. I
can’t—“

“Harry. You can tell her what you’ve told me, that you don’t feel for her any more. You need to
force her to see you, that you don’t want to be with her. You can’t hide behind me, not like this.
I have always helped you Harry, but this is one thing I will absolutely not do for you. I will not
allow you to avoid her. Ginny deserves to know, however spoilt she may be.”

“But she won’t listen! I’ve tried, you know I’ve tried.”

“Tried?” she snorted. “I can’t tell her for you.”

“Hermione—“

She stood up. “I’ve had a long day, Harry. You need to think of how you’re going to tell Ginny you
don’t want her at all and I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

*~*

“Ginny, I don’t love you anymore. I’ve never loved you. You helped me be ‘normal’, but I don’t want
to be normal. You think I’m a hero, Ginny, but I’m not. I’m Harry. Just me.”

He scowled at himself in the mirror. “Harry, you’re mental.” He took a deep breath and tried
again.

“Ginny, I don’t love you. We are not getting married, now or ever. The times I’ve spent with you
have mostly been okay, but I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life with you.” He sighed.
“Mostly okay? A bit ridiculous, but overall a little better.”

He closed his eyes, took another deep breath, opened his eyes slowly and looked straight at the
mirror, determined to make at least the mirror believe him. “Ginny, I’ve enjoyed spending time with
you, and I truly do like you. But I don’t love you, nor have I ever. I can’t see myself spending
the rest of my life with you. You don’t know me like Hermione does. She sees the real me, not some
hero like you want me to be. I don’t love you Ginny, because I think I’m in love with her.” He
narrowed his eyes at his reflection. “Where did *that* come from?”

Scowling, he finished his morning ritual and headed to work. He owled Ginny, asking her to meet him
for lunch nearby, and waited for the morning to pass.

It passed slowly, much like time always does when anticipation is overruling any other emotion.
Harry watched the clock on the wall for most of the morning, ignoring his paperwork and Olivia in
favour of tapping his fingers on his desk. At the earliest possible time he could, he left his
office to head to where he was meeting Ginny, eager to finish the disaster he put himself
into.

She was fashionably late. He could still see the sparkle of the ring, *his* gaudy ring, on her
left hand. It shimmered in the bright sunlight, matching the glimmers off her hair as she walked
towards him. He stared at the spots, watching them move as she got closer until she was almost
there. He blinked.

“Hi Ginny,” he said wearily.

“Hello, lover,” she said in a sultry voice.

Harry scowled. “Gin, I’m a married man.”

She raised an impeccable eyebrow. “Oh?”

He scowled again. “Ginny—“ The waiter interrupted, and Harry tapped his foot impatiently as Ginny
ordered a soda water with lime and the house salad. He rolled his eyes.

“Ginny, we need to talk.”

“Oh yes we do.” She wagged a finger at him playfully. “Don’t you think you can get away with this,”
she began, scolding him as if he had taken the last cookie. *Or last soda water with lime,* he
snorted to himself. “I know it was just a hoax, now that she’s had a ‘miscarriage’.”

Harry shuddered as he watched her make quote signs with her hands on the last word. “Please don’t
interrupt, Ginny, this is important.”

She nodded, taking a bite of the salad that had just appeared.

“Ginny, I—“ He sighed. “This is hard to say, but it’s something I should have said a long time ago.
I don’t love you.”

She nodded, not really paying attention, smiling at the people that could see her dining with
*the* Harry Potter.

“I never have loved you. This, us,” he waved his hand between them. “It’s just not going to work
out. *Ever.* I can’t love you, not like you want to be loved. I’m not your hero, Ginny, I’m
not anyone’s hero. I’m just Harry.”

She nodded again, taking a sip of her soda water. *With lime,* he could hear her say.

“We are not getting married. I’m already married. We can never happen. I can’t see myself spending
the rest of my life with you.” He shook his head and took another breath. “Ginny, please, listen to
me.” His carefully prepared speech flew out the proverbial window when he looked at her.

Ginny brushed her hair off her shoulders and waved to someone across the room. “I’m listening
darling.”

“I don’t love you because I’m in love with Hermione.”

He waited. “You know, Hermione? One of your friends, my best friend? The woman I’m currently
married to? I love her. I’ve loved her for a long time, longer than I’ve *known* you.” He
sighed, looking over her shoulder. “She’s always been there for me, helping me, guiding me, keeping
me grounded. She’s never put me on a pedestal, like you always have. She knows me, unlike
you.”

Ginny nodded again. Harry sighed loudly, shook his head, and stood up.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want the ring back.”

She finally looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I want the ring back.”

“Back?”

“Yes, Ginny. I realize now it’s given you false hopes. I want the ring back. And I love
Hermione.”

She gasped and held her hand close to her. “But I’ll need it when your marriage is over in two
weeks!”

A pained expression crossed his face, and he raised his hand to rub between his eyes. “You will not
need it, Ginny. We’re over, and we’re never getting back together. I’m married, and I. Love.
Hermione."

“I don’t understand.”

*Obviously*, he sighed. “Listen closely. I do not want to marry you now or ever. I am married.
I am married to Hermione. I love Hermione, not you.”

Ginny started to cry. Big tears flew from her eyes, and great heaving sobs wracked her body. Harry
leaned over her, pried the ring off her finger, and left, returning to work relieved.

~*~

“Hermione!”

She was in bed, reading, her light slightly dimmed as she had a headache. “I’m in here!” she
called, hoping she wouldn’t have to get up. She really was quite comfortable.

Harry opened the door, a smile on his face. He walked over to the bed and held out both hands,
clasped in fists. “Pick one.”

Hermione looked up at him, bemused. She shrugged and picked the right fist. Harry opened it to
reveal the ring that had been on Ginny’s finger not four hours before. Hermione raised an
eyebrow.

“I think I finally got through to her today.” He was still smiling.

“Oh? How’d you manage that?” Hermione put her book down and patted the spot next to her on the
bed.

“Well, I told her that I couldn’t picture myself with her in my old age, that kind of thing. When
she didn’t respond or even acknowledge that, I asked for the ring back. I had to finally take it
off her finger, but she finally got the picture. I left her crying at the table.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione laughed. “I can only imagine. I’m sure she was distraught over the loss of
that honking thing.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I also told her that I couldn’t marry her because I’m already married to you.”
Harry looked at her, a serious expression on her face.

Hermione inhaled sharply and looked away. “Harry,” she choked out. “We won’t be married much
longer.”

He leaned forward and touched her chin lightly. When she flinched, he sighed. He gripped her chin
and pulled it to where she was looking at him again. “What if that’s not good enough anymore? What
if I don’t want this to end?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying? Are you afraid she’ll still come after
you?”

“No, not anymore. Hermione, I—“

They heard the chime for the floo and turned to look at the door. Hermione sprang out of bed and
went to check on it, leaving Harry frustrated in her room. He fell back, collapsing against the
pillows in a gesture of extreme frustration. He had been *so close*.

Hermione returned with Ron in tow.

“Hey mate.” Ron looked around. “Where are your things?” he asked, confused.

Hermione spoke before Harry could open his mouth. “He’s already started to pack.”

“Pack?” Ron asked as Harry shook his head.

“I never really moved in.” He could feel Hermione shaking her head from across the room, but
decided to continue. “It’s something we’re still discussing.” He shot a glare her way.

“Oh. Well, I thought I’d come over because Ginny’s upset, more so than Mum was.”

Harry and Hermione flinched.

“Ron, you are such a coward.”

“She’s been crying and wailing the past few hours. She came home, slammed the door shut to her room
and she’s been locked in there all afternoon, making all sorts of noise. I had to get out of
there.”

“I took the ring back. It was the only way I could get her to understand that I’m not ever planning
to get back together with her.”

Ron nodded. “Mind if I stay the night? This storm isn’t likely to blow over any time soon.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Hermione knew she couldn’t protest, not now. After all, she had two bedrooms. And she and Harry
*were* supposed to be married. What was one night, alone, with Ron down the hall going to
do?

*~*

“Good night, Ron.”

Harry shut the door behind him as he entered the room he was now sharing with Hermione. She was
hovering near the bed, dressed in an old t-shirt of his that came to her knees. He smiled, as she
looked unbelievably cute.

“Good night, Harry,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Good night, Mrs. Potter.” He chuckled as he saw her scowl before she jumped into the bed. He
brushed his teeth quickly, stripped down to his boxers, and crept across the dark room to his side
of the bed.

Hermione was facing the wall, the blankets tucked under her arm and chin. She was as close to the
edge as possible, leaving a wide gulf between them.

“Hermione?”

She didn’t move, just squeaked, “Yes?”

“We slept closer than this on the Hunt. Why don’t you just relax?”

She sighed softly, and turned on her back. Harry smiled at her, before rolling on his side facing
her.

~*~

She woke up to the sound of someone breathing in her ear. Somehow during the night, Harry had
rolled into her and enveloped her in his arms. She was on her side, holding his arm to her stomach.
She could feel his hair tickling her neck, and the raspy hairs on his legs prickled hers. Not to
mention a certain other body part was making itself known on her backside.

She blushed, and extricated herself from Harry, practically running to the bathroom. She showered
quickly and made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her boys.

Harry came down next, still in his boxers. Hermione couldn’t help but look down, but all evidence
was gone. She blushed again when Harry caught her gaze. He sat across from her.

“Ron’s already gone.”

She looked up abruptly. “Already?” Her voice was unusually high-pitched, but Harry didn’t seem to
notice.

“Yeah, I saw him in the hallway. He wanted to check to see if Molly was still alive.”

Hermione smiled and cleared her throat.. “Ginny knows how to throw a tantrum, but I’m sure Molly’s
okay.”

They ate breakfast in silence, Hermione reading the *Daily Prophet* while Harry just watched
her.

She started to get up from the table, but Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm. “We need to
finish the conversation we started last night.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.

Harry took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “I didn’t tell you everything I told Ginny. I
didn’t realize it until yesterday morning when I was practicing what I was going to say. I was just
going along with everything that popped into my head and out blurted this. I told Ginny that I
couldn’t marry her because I was married to you. That I can’t and won’t love her because I love
you.”

Hermione was silent. She looked down at the table, at his hands, and then at her own. They were
shaking. “Harry, I don’t know what to say.”

“I understand that it’s sudden, and not practical, and that you probably don’t feel the same way.
But I meant what I said when I proposed to you and gave you my mother’s ring: You’re the only
person I’d like to have that ring. And you’re the only person I can see myself spending the rest of
my life with. Hermione, I do love you, and I have for a long time, I just never thought about it,
or realized it.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. She looked at him, could see the sincerity writ in his eyes, could
look back at all the things he’d said, the way he looked at her, touched her innocently, and it all
made sense.

And yet, it still came as such a shock, to hear those words actually spoken to her. She could feel
Harry watching her think, and knew he would wait until she spoke again to try to convince her. She
allowed herself some time, some space to think and realize how she felt, how she would always
feel.

She *had* felt used during their fake marriage, but now, to know the truth, it was
breathtaking. Harry loved her. And part of her realized she had always loved him, that the words
she convinced Ron with were actually true. It always would be one of them, between Ron and Harry.
It always would be Harry.

“What does this mean?”

Harry jumped at her voice. He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “We can start over, let this run
its course and start over with a proper engagement, a proper relationship. I love you, and I’m
prepared to wait for you forever.”

“Oh,” again. She smiled slowly, gladly. Harry was so good, so right.

“What if I don’t want to wait?” she asked shyly.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “What?” he squeaked.

Hermione giggled. “Oh, Harry, I’ve felt more for you than I ever thought I should since fourth
year. I set it aside more than once to be your friend, and Ron’s. I never allowed myself to think
of you as more. This marriage, *our* marriage didn’t mean anything to begin with, but I felt
*something* the moment we kissed. It was like everything I had ever done up to that point lead
me to your side.” She blushed. “Does that make sense?”

He nodded. “It felt right. That one kiss that sealed our marriage was more important to me than any
I shared with Ginny.”

Hermione put her hand over Harry’s and squeezed lightly. “I love you, Harry. And I want it to be
official. I don’t want to wait and start over; it won’t be the same. Even if our wedding wasn’t the
wedding of my dreams, my husband still is.”



4. untitled
-----------

*Thanks for your patience! I had a bit of an issue with my muse for this last part, but here
it is! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed!*

“We have to tell Ron.”

“What?” Harry cried. “No we don’t. We don’t have to tell him anything. Besides, he already knows
some of it. *Most* of it.”

*Coward.* “Except the fact that we lied to our best friend.” Hermione stared at him
pointedly.

Harry held up his hands. “I am *not* risking the wrath of Ron over something like this. He
already knows what he needs to know.”

“How are we going to explain to him the reason behind our marriage if you’ve already packed and
I’ve had a ‘miscarriage’?” She ignored his raised eyebrow. “Why would our previous reasons convince
Ron we should still conceivably be married?”

“Hermione, Mrs. Potter, *please*.”

She scowled. “*You* will tell him, Harry. Just like you had to tell Ginny. You got us into
this.”

“Speaking of Ginny—“

“I will not have this subject changed until you agree to speak with Ron and tell him the
truth.”

“The truth?”

“Yes. Tell him the pregnancy was a scam and that once you actually thought about it, you realized
how much in love we were with each other, from the beginning.”

“He has to know about the miscarriage?”

“*Yes*.”

Harry sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, Harry, thank you!” She threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a big hug. “Now, what’s
this about Ginny?” she asked as she pulled away.

“Well, I was actually just trying to change the subject.” He gave her a winning smile. It went
unappreciated.

“I was curious, though. What are you going to do with that monstrosity of a ring?”

“We could burn it.”

Hermione glared at him. “We could *sell* it.”

“Fine, we could sell it. But we have to make sure they reset it, so Ginny can’t try to buy it and
claim it as hers still. Or we can sell it to a Muggle jeweler.”

She shrugged. “It’s your ring.”

He smiled. “So, that means I could burn it.”

She just looked at him.

*~*

“She’s gone. You can come out now.”

Harry crawled out from under the table, grinning sheepishly. “Thanks, mate.”

Ron shook his head. “Where’s all this bravery again?”

“Honestly, Ron, you sound just like Hermione.”

“You mean, your wife?”

Harry sighed. “Right. About that—“

Ron looked at him abruptly. “What now?”

“Well, it’s like this. See—“

“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re calling off the marriage because you’re too blind to see what’s in
front of you.” He moved around the table to stand in front of Harry. “I heard you both, loud and
clear. Your answer was much like hers. You *both* can’t fool me. As much as I hate to admit
it, you two have been half in love with each other for a long time. I suggest, before you call
anything off, you think long and hard about it. Don’t screw it up,” he finished, emphasizing each
word with a finger poked at Harry’s chest.

Harry just stared at his best friend. He slowly brought a hand up and ran it through his hair.
“Ron, I appreciate your, er, *concern*, but it’s not exactly necessary. We’ve, well, we’ve
decided to stay together, after thinking and talked to each other.”

“Oh.” Ron had the grace to blush. “Then what is it you needed to talk about?”

Harry sighed. “A confession of sorts.”

The eyebrow again. “And this is why you didn’t want Ginny around?”

Harry nodded guiltily. He looked around the room before talking a deep breath. His next words came
in a rush. “We lied to you. There was no affair, no baby. It was all a scam because I was too weak
to tell your sister the truth. It was my idea.” He looked at the floor.

To his surprise, Ron started laughing. “I knew it!” he cried, thrusting a fist in the air.

“Wh-what?”

“Oh, Ginny will be so pissed off at you when she finds out. She always suspected, you know. I could
tell. Maybe that’s why she held on like she did.” Ron was smiling.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “You knew it?”

He nodded, smiling again. “You two didn’t change much, after your supposed affair. You weren’t
awkward, you didn’t avoid each other, yet you weren’t overly eager to be around each other to do it
again.” Harry blushed. “And see, that, right there. You blush too often for it to be the truth.”
Ron shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re staying together. Ginny knows, I take it?”

“The truth, you mean?”

“Yes, about the two of you.”

Harry looked away. “I told her, before I told Hermione, that I couldn’t love or marry her because I
loved and am married to Hermione.”

Ron nodded. “Good.”

*~*

*The truth*, Harry mused, *can be a lot easier to tell than a lie*. He walked around his
own mostly empty flat, concentrating on nothing but his conversation with Ron. It had been
surprisingly easy, especially after what Ron had said to him.

He finally walked through his bedroom, packing the rest of his clothes, making the bed and cleaning
what little needed to be cleaned. He sighed heavily, looking once more about the room and prepared
to leave.

*~*

Ginny walked alone on Diagon Alley, pausing to admire her reflection in the shop windows. A few
strands were out of place, so she stood long enough to fix the problem, flip her hair over her
shoulder and prance off.

As she reached the corner towards Gladrag’s, she carefully sidestepped a muddy puddle, only to stop
suddenly on the other side. She had a vague look of panic upon her perfect face as she tried to
move forward, but it was if a bubble had enclosed her, keeping her trapped on the pavement. The few
passersby took no notice of the pretty witch, their eyes glazing over as they looked directly at
her, hurrying from shop to shop.

Suddenly, inexplicably, the bubble released, and Ginny found herself falling backward. She had
started to lean against the back of the bubble to rest after her exertions and was now drenched in
the puddle, dripping mud from head to foot. Her beautiful glossy red mane was now an ordinary lanky
brown that when she tried to flip over her shoulder only slapped her face with a loud smack. Her
robes were ruined and now hung from her frame like an old bag lady begging for sickles. Ginny
slowly started to turn red, fuming in her spot until she disappeared with a loud crack, leaving no
faeries or glitter in her wake.

A young woman with long bushy brown hair stepped out of the shadows, pulling her cloak tighter and
laughing hysterically.

*~*

Hermione sat in her chair in front of the fireplace, book in hand. She wasn’t reading, though.
Instead she was staring at the fireplace, willing it to flare up and bring Harry to her.

When he finally did floo, she hastily pulled the book closer, to look like she had been reading all
along and not waiting anxiously for him to appear.

It was awkward. She put down the book and looked up at Harry. He was standing in the middle of the
room, just looking at her, his arms full of bags and boxes.

“Hi,” she said shyly, a slight smile on her face as she took a box from him.

“Hi,” he returned, still looking at her with an unreadable expression.

He dropped the boxes, crossed to her and, cupping her face with both of his hands, kissed her. It
was sweet and light and left her breathless as he pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted.

She nodded and gestured down the hall in a daze. She walked in front of him, still carrying the box
she had taken from him. They arrived in her room shortly, where she emptied her hands and sat on
her bed. He entered the room behind her, shutting the door softly.

“Hermione?”

She shook her head. “It’s all too real.”

He sat next to her on the bed, facing her. “How exactly?”

“We’re married.”

“And? I thought you agreed about this, that you love me.” He couldn’t keep the panic from his
voice.

She put her hand over his. “That’s not it.” She gestured between them, and to the bed. “This, us. I
love you, Harry, but I’m not sure where to go from here.”

He grinned and ran a hand up her arm reassuringly. “I love you too. We can take it slow, as slow as
we need to for the next two weeks. But then?”

“Right.” She looked at him. “I’m nervous.”

“Me too,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “But this,
between us, is right and good and—“ He kissed her, deciding that, in this case, actions could speak
louder than words.

She squeaked a little, at first, but was then drawn into the kiss, throwing her arms around Harry’s
neck and bringing him closer.

Minutes passed and finally they broke apart for air, their faces flushed as they looked at each
other. Hermione smiled shyly. He smiled back and cupped her cheek with his hand, pulled her closer
until their lips met again.

This kiss had an air of finality, at least for that moment, and when they separated, Harry stood
and began to unpack. Hermione watched him, content, until she finally stood and helped him with a
few spells.

They finished quickly, silently. He came to her, took her hand, and they walked to the kitchen,
shoulders bumping every so often as to make sure the other was still actually there.

*~*

“I’ll cook,” he said as they entered the kitchen.

She began to set the table, transfiguring a few cups to glasses, and poured wine from her wand. She
handed Harry a glass with a smile, and sat at the table to watch him.

*Part of me can’t believe this is real, but the rest of me knows it’s right and real and Merlin
so help me if he kisses me like that again*. She took a sip of her wine, pushing that train of
thought aside.

He could feel her watching him. It made him nervous, like he was a first year in Snape’s class,
making potions for the first time for an unfair and unfeeling professor who didn’t care that he had
never seen a cauldron before. He smiled to himself at that image, and finished preparing their
meal.

He joined her at the table, raising his glass to hers and they began to eat.

*~*

She was light-headed, slightly tipsy when she asked him into her room. *Their room*, she
corrected. *He’s already unpacked.* She thought she would play it smooth, asking him for help
with something, but her words didn’t come out right and she not only stumbled over them, but over
her own feet halfway to her bed.

She landed in his arms, her chin lifted and her lips at the right angle to be kissed. Harry looked
down at her, noticing how heavy her eyelids had become and just how rosy her lips were. He smiled,
knowing his advantage, and tilted his head just so in order to capture her lips with his.

They kissed and she stumbled again, falling gracefully backward and landing on her bed. Harry came
with her, having enough sense to break his impact on her with his arms outstretched. Their lips did
not part and now, horizontal, they kissed hungrily, as if his delicious meal had been just an
appetizer of a meal they had been forced to wait hours for.

Hermione laughed, her lips breaking the kiss as they formed a smile. *I’m really quite
ridiculous*. Harry looked down at her, confused.

“Nothing,” she murmured against his jaw, kissing her way lightly to his ear. She brought her hands
up, tickling his sides along the way as she clasped her hands around his back. She bent her head
and kissed him soundly, pulling him closer.


“Hermione,” he groaned as he collapsed on her. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her lightly
after each word.

They continued to kiss, slowly removing articles of clothing until they were naked and panting. A
question was in each of their eyes and they answered each other with their lips, a silent
affirmation to their relationship and marriage.

*~*

Morning dawned and Hermione was snuggled under Harry’s arm, pressed completely against him. Even
while sleeping she smiled as she felt every inch of him on her back. She wriggled and stretched
slightly, like a cat following a hand petting it. She stilled, her eyes still closed, and listened
to him breathe.

She jumped when she heard a crash, followed by a shout. Another crash and the bedroom door flew
open, revealing a very flushed and angry redhead staring at her pressed against Harry.

He sat up, allowing the duvet to drop, exposing enough skin to let the intruder know exactly what
had happened that night.

“Ginny!” Ron shouted, coming into the room behind her. “Have you no decency?”

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed and hair shiny. “Not. Now.”

Hermione shared a glance with Harry, and pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. She glared back
at the younger girl. “Can I help you?”

Ginny stomped closer to the bed and reached back to slap Hermione. A hand grabbed her wrist moments
from impact.

“Touch my wife like that and I will end you.”

Ron snorted.

Ginny huffed and turned to him, all sugar and smiles. “Why Harry,” she drawled. “What are you doing
in bed with this wench? Why don’t you come back home with me, to our bed?”

“You are delusional.”

She smiled prettily. “Now, honey, don’t be like that. You love me, remember?” She tried to caress
his face, but he brushed her hand away.

Ron stepped in. “Ginny. Gin. Stop it.” She ignored him. “Really, you must stop this. He’s not going
to marry you. He’s married to and loves Hermione, very much.” He eyed the couple in the bed. “I
take it they’ve committed the marriage as well.”

Harry smiled gratefully at Ron. He stood from the bed, wrapping the duvet around his waist.
Hermione squeaked and pulled the sheet closer. “Now, why don’t you go home with your brother. We’ve
both told the truth. Your mother even knows and accepts it. Why can’t you?” He tried to push her
towards the door, gesturing for Ron to help him.

She spun from him, thrusting her wand out behind him, pointing it directly at Hermione. “You will
listen to me. You will end this false relationship and you will come home right now!” She stomped
her foot on the last two words to emphasize her very important point.

As she glared at Harry, Ron disarmed her. Harry stepped in front of her, turned to Hermione and
kissed her, cupping her face gently in his hands.

Ginny scoffed and turned away in disgust. “If this is how it’s going to be, then fine. Just don’t
expect me to take you back next week, next month, or next year.” She stalked out of the room and
the three breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry and Hermione continued to kiss, his hands roaming down her bare shoulders and under the
sheet.

“I’ll just, er, leave you two alone now. Goodbye.”

Harry blindly reached for his wand and slammed the door behind Ron, bending Hermione back to the
bed as he kissed her again.

*THE END.*