A/N:
Hi, guys! I am so, so sorry that I was not able to update as fast as I did the last chapter. This one was so hard to do. I don't know why, I just did not have enough motivation. Details just kept on adding and adding into the story that I had to redo the entire plot.
Anyway, I am warning you now that this chapter may turn out unworthy of your time. It is long, because I had hoped that while I was writing, something would strike me as a major scene. I found that there are, although I think, without some sort of explanation, you would not deem them as such.
Anyway, I am not going to say anything further. I just hope you find something significant in here.
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The sun was already up and about, ready to kick in high gear, when Hermione woke up the next day. Through the balcony doors, of which the heavy draperies were already jostled aside, the ray of morning sunshine was already coming in.
Still groggy from the deep but restful sleep she had, she sat up, wondering what brought this sudden languor in her. She had never slept past sunrise before.
She stretched quite a bit before finally taking notice of her surroundings, which had begun to strike her as quite unfamiliar. As her heart set in panic, her wariness grew to amusement as it dawned on her who and where she was.
It was at this point then that her cheeks began to turn red.
Careful not to make a sudden movement, Hermione slowly turned towards the other side of the bed.
Her heart fluttered.
Only it was not because she saw what she thought she was going to see.
On the contrary, her fluttering heart only revealed the disappointment she certainly refused to acknowledge the moment she saw that the space beside her was empty.
She rolled her eyes at her self.
Of course.
Harry was not a late sleeper. Even if he were, he would not have stayed with her until she woke up. Such foolish fantasies were best left in storybooks.
But that thought did not --- could not --- stop her from leaning down anyway, and resting her head on the pillow next to hers. It still had a dent on it where Harry had lain last night. She could even smell him if she pressed a little more closely.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Hermione bolted upright; her cheeks tainted a much brighter red, if that could even be possible.
No one had seen her, so she felt rather stupid looking around guiltily.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
She cleared her throat.
"You may enter."
Hermione waited as the door revealed the one responsible for the knocking.
A girl of about twenty years of age came in. "Good morning, your grace."
Hermione smiled in greeting and then just stared awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.
"I am Eloise, your grace." She supplied helpfully, reading Hermione's mind. "His Grace appointed me as your lady's maid."
"He did?" Hermione wondered, although it was not out of the ordinary that Harry had. However, he should have realized by then that her penchant for independence would deem her needless of one.
"Yes, your grace." Eloise said, her emphatic nod giving her excitement away.
Hermione regarded her with vague amusement. The young girl's sincerity was evident, and to say something else would diminish the anticipation she felt.
Besides, Eloise would fare much better in attending to her needs, rather than going back to the heavier and far more demanding household duties.
"Well then, Eloise," Hermione smiled. "I am pleased to have you with me."
The young girl beamed at her, before forging ahead with her first task for the day. "Would you like to break your fast in your bed, your grace?"
She frowned, expecting to dine with Harry as soon as she went downstairs. "Has the duke eaten?"
Eloise bowed her head. "He had. He also left right away to visit his tenants down by the village."
Refusing to acknowledge disappointment, Hermione fiddled with her thumbs. "I see."
Eloise disappeared behind the dresser to retrieve Hermione's clothing from the night before. When she reappeared again, she dumped the material onto the basket and turned to face Hermione. "Shall I carry your breakfast tray in here?"
Instead of replying, Hermione asked. "Did Ha---His Grace instruct you as to when he shall be back?"
Eloise nodded. "His grace said he shall return in time for luncheon. He also directed some servants to sort out the Duchess' suite."
Hermione was thoughtful for a moment.
She was not expecting Harry to act as the perfect husband he certainly was not. Yet, it was unmistakable, this feeling of regret.
Half of her had been hoping that he was waiting for her downstairs,. The other half, as embarrassing as it was to admit, had been expecting him to stay with her until she woke up.
After last night's ordeal, it was not wrong to suppose something like that. When that did not happen, it was clear that she should have imagined instead, that he would be normal again after a night's rest.
Perhaps, Harry's unexpected behavior had been a one-time thing that had stemmed from her having nowhere else to sleep, and nothing more.
"Your grace?" Eloise asked. "Would you care to have breakfast?"
Hermione sighed. She should not so much trust him to change over night. "No." She shook her head. "I shall wait for luncheon. I'm not hungry anyway."
Eloise did not seem perturbed by her refusal to eat. She merely bowed. "Very well, miss. And what would you like to wear?"
Hermione watched as her new companion opened her trunk of clothes, sorted through the contents one by one, and then arranged them neatly in the closet.
Her trunks, which contained all her necessities and belongings from Ravenclaw Keep, had arrived in Godric's Hollow earlier than she had. The minute she saw them in the room, she knew Harry had been the one to dispatch someone to get them.
She wondered what her stepmother had to say. Lady Allyson would have known of her marriage to Harry because of that. How much longer, would it be until she heard from her? After all these years, the thought of facing her again seemed so surreal.
She had not set foot or eyes on Ravenclaw Keep yet since she came back from Scotland.
It was not because she was afraid of the memories they evoked. She did not need the sight to remind her of what her life was like in the place. God only knew wherever she went, she remembered…
It was more of the thought that whatever memories she shall make would not be worth the effort any longer.
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Half an hour later, Hermione stepped out of her bedchambers clad in a forest green morning gown, with puffed shoulders, long sleeves and a high-waist bodice. Since she was not expected to entertain any guests nor did she have any intention to leave the mansion, her hair was unbound, falling artlessly down her back.
"Eloise," Hermione said, turning back to her maid, who was arranging the sheet cover on Harry's bed.
"Yes, your grace?"
"I should like to see to the cleaning of the Duchess' suite. Kindly inform me as to when the servants would start."
"But His Grace did not…"
"I would prefer to include myself in it," Hermione said gently.
"Very well, your grace."
"Thank you."
With those last words, Hermione turned on her heels to begin the exploration of her new home, excited for some reason to discover one of the many changes that would happen in her new married life.
Walking the corridors of her childhood home had been somewhat of a task for her, more than the simple pleasure of walking about. She had been accustomed to the dreary atmosphere at Ravenclaw Keep.
If she had any say in it, she would have shut herself from the rest, but her people had needed her…
Having had the title of Keeper of Estate thrust upon her when her father died, she had been the only one the people of Ravenclaw could count upon.
"I am not the countess, my dear, so why should I concern myself with those matters?" She had once said airily right in Hermione's face. "Besides, I have you to see to it, don't I?"
Still, even after all these years, she still yearned for Lady Allyson's approval. She was the only mother she had ever had, and no matter how much pain she had been through, there was still hope inside her that she would come to love her as a daughter.
Well, enough about that for now! She did not need to think of something so depressing. For all it was worth, it could spoil her mood for the rest of the day.
With her heart set and full of purpose, Hermione veered to start on it. Even before she could finish the first ten steps away from the suite, Hermione really had to stop.
Just by standing where she was, she could feel the magnificence of Godric's Hollow before her. Never had she seen a hallway more worthy to be ogled.
The floors were marbled, white in color and shining in the morning light. She saw nary a trace of footsteps or scratches on the seemingly perfect flooring. The walls were neutrally painted with an intense shade of brown, but when the sun illuminated its surface, the effect gave off a golden glow. The tapestries were, as in her bedroom, set aside for the sunlight to pass through the ten-foot high windows that paraded from one end to the other of the hallway.
On the other hand, a beautiful collage of abstract paintings displayed in colors of various shades and designs of various patterns adorned the ceiling. Each step she took revealed a different view, drawn out for anyone's pleasure. One could spend hours just looking.
Hermione laughed in delight.
She was not going to get tired living here, not when just walking along the corridor already felt as if she were strolling down the park.
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By the time Hermione had finished exploring the better part of the mansion, it was already half an hour past luncheon. She had only been to five significant rooms, yet she already felt worn out and almost ready to stop for the day.
Of all the rooms she had visited, it was her husband's study she had liked the least.
Her elated state had gone down a notch the moment she entered. She found it to be somber at best and depressing the least. Nothing much was inside, save for a simple mahogany table, chairs opposite it, and some shelves with more drinks, and a small, not even mediocre, collection of books. The curtains were shut and the walls were void of any decoration, save for a portrait of a couple, with a baby nestled in the woman's arms.
She wondered for some time about who the family in the picture was, but did not bother to dwell on the thought much. She left before she were turned off any further, and was sidetracked by Godric's Hollow's resident butler, Charles Hudson.
"Good morning, your grace." He had bowed so low, Hermione thought he would not be able to come up. "Welcome to Godric's Hollow."
There had been so much warmth in his voice and in his eyes, that Hermione had unconsciously returned the sentiment naturally, forgetting her surprise. Since that moment, she had never expected a butler to be anything but reserved.
"Straighten your skirts, miss. Lady Allyson objects to unladylike behavior." Colburn said, shooting her muddy dress a dark glare.
"Thank you for the reminder." Hermione smiled at him.
"And you would do well to remember it." He snuffed his nose into the air and left.
An import from the household of Lady Allyson, Henry Colburn had been loyal and answered to only one. His treatment of the daughter should have been rebuked, but as Lady Allyson was the countess, no one dared question her choices.
Colburn's callousness proved to be true when Hermione's curiosity accidentally led her to the kitchen. Her appearance had caused a quite a commotion with staff, who had not been expecting their new mistress to drop by.
"Welcome, your grace!"
"Good morning, your grace, how are you on this fine day?"
"You only have to ask what you need, madam, and you shall have it!"
"It is a pleasure to have you here, madam!"
Those were just a few of what she had heard during her visit. She had stayed longer than necessary, which would explain the delay in servicing their meal.
Everyone had been intent on pleasing her.
And this led to the last room she had explored, or was exploring rather.
The dining room.
Although located at the far side of the mansion, sunlight equally bathed it as it had the other rooms. The rosewood dining table extended from one side to the other, with undercarriages drawn out to the center, and central legs for support. It was long enough to accommodate at least two dozen people.
Hermione primly sat on the first chair near the entrance, idly drumming her fingers onto her lap. She stole a quick glance at Harry's seat at the head of the table, which was still unoccupied.
She sighed.
For some unknown reason, he had not been able to keep his promise to return at the time of luncheon.
She saw no sign of his arrival and their meal, however late it had been, was getting cold. Her now growling stomach begged her to take a bite. Any more waiting and she would not think twice on eating alone.
"I apologize for the delay" came from a voice behind her.
Hermione turned her head around just in time to see Harry stride in the room and take his seat. Her exasperation over the past half hour vanished. He looked exhausted, his eyes somewhat weary.
"Have you been waiting long?" Harry asked.
Hermione contemplated on whether or not she should tell him she had been. "Not that long." She shook her head, smiling at him. "I arrived mere minutes before you."
"I am late, nonetheless." Harry smiled at her sheepishly. "I apologize again, my lady. I sincerely hope, in my case, that it would not have to happen again."
Hermione raised a brow at him. "You are a duke. You need not repent for fulfilling the obligations that are your own. If you had not done what you did, I would have demanded you to ask for forgiveness."
"Be that as it may," he glanced distractedly around the room for someone to start serving. "Prepare to still receive my apologies in the future."
There was not much for conversation after that. Harry tried to engage her in one, but the journey to his tenants had been a tiring one. His words were somewhat faltering, and he looked as if he did not really want to talk.
After taking in the scrumptious meal in complete and utter silence, Harry excused himself from Hermione, saying that he would be expecting a messenger soon.
In complete fairness to him, he did look rather apologetic when he said so.
She rose from her seat, disappointed for some reason.
And then he kissed her.
Just a light and casual "see you" kiss…
A kiss that did not even linger for more than a second…
Yet a kiss sweet and unexpected enough to lift her mood and coax a smile out of her and the rest of the occupants in the room.
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By the time Hermione found her way back to Harry's bedchamber, several women were already buzzing in and out of the room, carrying all sorts of stuffs. She scrunched up her nose and walked in, wondering where all the artifacts were coming from.
Then she saw that the connecting door that led to the adjoining suite had been unbolted, and that servants were coming from within.
Harry had not been kidding when he said his mother used the room for storage of her most prized possession. No wonder no one had bothered to open the room before.
Amidst all the cluttering, Hermione saw Eloise.
"They have started already." Hermione pointed out in such a forlorn expression that her maid had to bite back a laugh. "I was hoping to see what they would be taking out."
Eloise smiled at her. "There has not been many at all, your grace. We cleared the ones scattered on the floor so we could sweep off the dirt."
Hermione nodded agreeably. "Very good, Eloise." She commented. "Do not mind me. I shall just look around. You can continue with the tidying."
"Very well, madam."
As soon as the other women had received the "go" signal, it was as if Hermione was not there. They continued to wipe and sweep, converse occasionally and gossip quite naturally.
She did not mind the invisibility. She preferred them to act normally and not be stiff and starchy, tiptoeing their way around her. Word must have already gotten out that she did not expect them to treat her as the high and mighty, something that she said to the kitchen staff that morning.
All that aside, Hermione took her turn about the room.
Judging from the many seemingly insignificant, but doubtlessly important, possessions within the chamber, she immediately knew that the former duchess and she would have gotten along splendidly. They wallowed in the joys of having something with which to remember good memories. If only Hermione's collection had been as vast the late duchess, she would have looked at life more differently.
By the window, overlooking the grassy field outside, Hermione immediately spotted a huge chest, its lock unbolted and dangling. Her curiosity won over cautiousness almost as quickly.
It was overflowing with various collections. Fans, some cloths, a music box, and other things rusted with age and wrecked by moisture were inside. Each time she took something out, a little bit of her late mother-in-law's life was revealed, as were her husband and son's.
Almost half-empty now, Hermione felt her hand touch something smooth and hard. It was not tough to take it in one hand, as it was only small and delicate. She lifted it and brought it to the light.
It was a miniature portrait, one bigger than her hand, but small enough to fit in her reticule. She saw first the back of it, on which there was an engraved message.
"Know in thy heart, we will always love you."
--- J.L.
She turned it around.
The portrait was of a baby boy with jet-black hair and jade green eyes.
She should not have recognized him for he looked so different now. Yet, she did. Of course, the bright green eyes were a giveaway. However, even if he did not have the brand, she would have known it was he anyway.
Since she met him almost four months ago, Harry had this look of power with him that he carried even as a baby.
She reverently touched the image of what her husband had been when he was not yet the man she knew now. She smiled, a small sound of delight escaping her lips.
"You have a lovely smile, miss."
Hermione was so surprised that she almost dropped the small frame. She looked around and saw a dainty girl with long blonde hair. "Thank you---"
"My name is Wendy, your grace."
"Thank you, Wendy."
Hermione had been so preoccupied with what she was doing that she did not notice the servant girl anywhere near her.
"And so very infectious." Wendy added as an afterthought.
Hermione frowned gently. "What do you mean by that, Wendy?"
The girl blushed at her question and it only aroused Hermione's curiosity even more.
"The duke, my lady." Wendy supplied as if that would help Hermione understand.
"My husband?" She clarified. Wendy nodded, and then she asked. "What of him?"
"He has never smiled before. Yet you brought one out of him."
"Never?" Hermione laughed slightly, thinking the notion absurd. "Surely he has had a reason or two to smile at."
"Nay, madam." One girl suddenly said from behind Wendy.
It seemed that the conversation had attracted most of the occupants in the room.
"He keeps to himself, that he does." Eloise put in.
There was no denying it. Servants did love their gossip. Of course, they could not avoid such things anyway. She was not with the servants twenty-four hours a day to monitor their behavior even if she wanted to.
"But last night, he was changed, miss."
"And what a smile he had!" The previous one said, a dreamy look sparkling in her eyes.
Again, she did not see any reason to react strongly. Who could blame them if they fancied themselves in love with her husband?
He was sinfully handsome.
"Does he not have many friends?" Hermione wanted to know.
She was aware that the private matters her husband had before she came into his life should be left for him to tell. But she really did have the patience of a two-year old, and she could not wait to find out. God knew how long it would be before she did!
"Many of the ton's prominent men wish to be more than His Grace's acquaintances." A matronly woman said, her heavy bosoms heaving with each wave of her duster. "But he rarely accepts invitations and almost never entertains visitors. The only people he permits to see are Lord Sirius Black and Lord Remus Lupin. The Family Weasley is also welcomed, but their visits are also rare."
Hermione frowned at this. Harry had mentioned to her, while they were in the wood's cottage, that he had a foster mother. Why was she not on the list?
"You must love her a lot."
"I did. I do."
His answer was easy to remember because it had caused her to wonder whether they had some sort of falling out, which was obviously the case now.
Ever true to the custom, her own maid chose to divulge information to her mistress without any encouragement. "And, Emett, His Grace's coachman, says that apart from the House of Lords, His Grace only visits White's and Tatersall's when he is in Town."
"That is not all." One blonde and petite maid interjected. "His Grace also does rides with---er---lady acquaintances---in Hyde Park. On top o' that, he attends musicales and balls. That is what my sister said, miss. She works for him in his townhouse."
Something about the way the girl said "lady acquaintances" did not brood too well on Hermione. But she let the matter drop. She was more concerned as to why this Polly, who was supposed to be Harry's guardian until he had been found, was not with him or even occasionally calling on him.
"Well," Hermione said, clearly dismissing the conversation. "I do believe it was not the first time His Grace had smiled. I am certain that he does so all the time."
"Perhaps, miss." Wendy, who had initiated the comment, said. "But he has not done so in front of anybody. Last night had been a first. And we do thank you for that."
"His smile is so important, then?"
"He looked happy, miss," Eloise said simply. "And he deserves to be, that he does."
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Almost an hour had passed since Hermione had discovered another mysterious part of Harry's life. The conversation had faded and soon the maids had dispersed into their own corners, no doubt gossiping once more.
The miniature portrait of Harry proved to be the last significant possession the late duchess had. The least significant for Hermione, that is. She could not possibly find anything intriguing with the rest of the things she found.
Harry's baby things were included, but of course, she also had the same kind, and so did not find them very much fascinating.
The last thing inside the chest proved her wrong as it grazed her fingers. This time, she needed both hands to lift the container---a square one, enclosed in plastic and sealed by a cloth.
"Letters!" She exclaimed when she uncovered it. Fortunately, none heard her, having dismissed the cleaners a few minutes before.
She looked down again.
Letters!
How wonderful!
Then she froze.
From her father?!
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Harry Potter, the 9th Duke of Godric's Hollow, was not merely tired.
He was ready to pass out.
Of course, he had once told his wife that gentlemen do not faint. If he were to succumb to exhaustion, he would have to wait until he was in bed, where he could pretend fainting was merely sleeping.
It had rather been a demanding day. To top it all, it had to start so early in the morning, when all he had wanted to do was stay in bed and watch his wife sleep.
It had been so tempting to do just that, if it were not for his tenants having learned so quickly of his return.
But because it was his duty to listen to his people, listened he did.
Their visit had been about their lack of resources, due to a fire that had broken out a few nights before his arrival. That particular matter had not been brought to his attention until then, and so he had to investigate.
That explained the reason for his tardiness during luncheon.
His surly mood had been slightly pacified when he saw Hermione waiting for him. Despite his bravado in telling her that she should not have waited for him, the bigger part of his heart had literally jumped for joy when she did.
Though he did not exactly want it to jump each time and did not expect it either, Harry reveled in the simple fact that their marriage was as good as it could get.
However, not much of an improvement happened through their meal. He was too weary to hold up the end of his conversation and so disgruntled he almost forgot he expected his messenger that afternoon.
Though Hermione had said his schedule did not trouble her, it bothered him anyway. However, he could do nothing about it. He was the duke, and it was his responsibility to continue being one even after getting married.
What happened to him?
Nearly fortnight ago, he had nothing in his mind except to attend and leave a house party as the bachelor he had come.
Instead, he had left with a duchess!
Deep in the recesses of his mind, he had known his life would change the moment he met and held the gaze of this mysterious woman whose beauty enraptured him. He should have known just how much that gaze would come to mean.
Fifteen minutes past four was the time when his messenger had left. The message he brought with him to Godric's Hollow, already in Harry's possession.
Harry huffed out a breath.
The Lilian, a ship from his company named after his mother, had sailed six months ago to export some goods to America. His crew had been expected to return two months before to continue the trade.
But for some reason, The Lilian's return had been delayed. Harry had not concerned himself over the holdup, but neither did he expect something else had happened to his ship and crew.
He was not overly worried. His men were an expert lot, having been picked from the crème de la crème of sailors. He trusted them enough to come back alive and well.
Inconvenienced, that was what he was. Harry now had to meet a dealer in Town to discuss the matter of the goods still expected in America. All of his ships had been dispatched earlier to issue trade with other countries. They were not likely to return soon.
He was not thrilled to leave just after settling in; and neither was he looking forward to telling Hermione. He had no intention to bring her with him to London. Business was the only thing he shall go there for; hence, he did not see a need for her to go with him.
She may be feeling quite desolate right now, with him having been absent all day, but she did not expect him to dance attendance to her all the time, did she?
Yet, she deserved something better.
And he was trying to give it, damn it to hell!
But, again, he had no choice.
It was for this very reason that he had chosen not to brood anymore in his study and search for her in the Duchess' suite, wherein, he was told upon inquiry, she was trying to straighten the miscellanies his mother had left.
He entered his own bedchamber and proceeded to the door that adjoined his suite to hers. He prepared himself to greet her, but instead, froze in his tracks.
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Hermione knew Harry had entered the room.
It was silly of her to know, that's true, when his footsteps did not even make a sound. But she was aware of his presence, just as she always was whenever he was around. She did not know whether to be thankful or spiteful that she felt him. Because that only meant he had already grown into her.
"Am I the cause of your tears, madam?"
Harry meant to tease, yet his voice came out all wrong. He just wanted to ask casually, except his heart had won over his mind, making him sound more worried than cautious.
She shook her head.
She nearly jumped when his hands fell on her shoulders.
"Hermione," he coaxed gently.
"I am all right, really." Hermione looked at him over her shoulders.
Harry sighed. "I have eyes and I am not blind."
Her head turned about. "I did not say you are."
"Perhaps not a fool, then?"
He walked around her and perched his hips on the window ledge. With crossed arms, Harry regarded Hermione with a stern look. "May I remind you that I have been a recipient of your tears, and so I know when you cry without reason?"
Hermione turned her face up to him indignantly. "When have I cried without reason?!"
Harry merely smiled at her. "So then, you are not all right."
She marveled at his sharp wit before laughing bitterly. "I have found something in your mother's treasure chest."
Harry looked down at the letter she was holding, and to the few more set on the tabletop.
"Letters?"
"Yes, letters." Hermione took a deep breath. "From my father."
Harry pondered on this for a bit. The first thought that crossed his mind had been somewhat degrading, yet possible.
"You have discovered a romantic liaison between them, is that it? Is that why you were crying?"
Hermione's shock at hearing his insinuation was enough to dismiss that particular idea. "That is a preposterous suggestion, my lord, as I have it in my knowledge that my father had loved my mother until the very end, as your mother had your father."
"I would not know," Harry said gravely, "as I did not have the fortune to know either one."
Hermione looked pained for a time, but the weight of the letter in her hands kept her mind from straying. "The late duchess, your mother, had been in correspondence with my father years before either one of us had been born. If I am not mistaken, they have been childhood friends."
"That cannot be." Harry protested. "For my mother to have been friends with a Ravenclaw, she had to be…"
"From Ravenclaw as well." Hermione finished for him. Then she shook her head. "No, she was not. And neither was my father."
"But, your father is Ravenclaw's Keeper of Estate. How could he not be from Ravenclaw?"
She reached for one of the discarded letters, the one that appeared to be oldest. "My father was from a place called Muggleville. It is a town outside Hogwarts, smaller yet prominent as well. He came to Ravenclaw through marriage with my mother, who was the daughter of Lord Randolph Amherst, Earl of Ravenclaw Keep."
"And my mother was from Muggleville?"
Hermione silently handed him the letter she had retrieved and pointed to a particular spot.
Harry read in equal silence the cursive writing of the late earl.
--------o0o--------
"I am aware of your plea, my dear, for that is my own as well. I should love to go back to Muggleville, if only to see what has become of it since last I saw its terrains. But duty to the estate, but more importantly, love to my wife comes first. I understand that you have been separated from home longer than I, yet I know that you do not miss it all too much. You have created a wonderful home in Gryffindor. I know too well that you are satisfied with the life you have with James, as I am with Julia.
We have grown, Lily. We are no longer the children who used to play in the grassy fields, with Trudy and Kyle, the baker's children, do you remember them? Sometimes, when I gaze upon the looking glass and see myself staring back, I laugh aloud. We have changed so much. But between you and I, it is you who have had the more difference.
How speechless I had been rendered when you said you were to marry James! He was not at all what I was expecting as the kind of man you would fall in love with. But he proved me wrong when he called on your parents. Despite their protests, he professed his devotion to you. It never crossed my mind that he would face their wrath.
I did not trust him, forgive me for that. How could I? He was from a different place, a place I had not heard from. But I am glad he proved me wrong. You are far better with him than with your family. Cruel, you may think I am, but you have been treated far less importantly. You ought to have had more.
As for me, I cannot say that I had a perfect life. However, I do like to believe that I have one now.
Life with Julia has been nothing but joy.
You are to thank for this. Had you not invited me to your wedding, I would have not met her, nor even laid eyes on her. I shall tell you, Lily, even if she would not have turned out to be the heiress to Ravenclaw Keep, I would have married her no matter what. A companion or a governess; I would have not given care. She stole my heart before I knew who she was. Nothing would have made me demand it back. I thank whatever force brought her upon me, and merely wish that we be contented for the rest of our lives.
We are loved, my dear, and I am glad that even this blessing, I can share with you.
Your precious friend,
Robert
--------o0o--------
"My mother was from Muggleville" was all Harry could say after reading it, as he did not know what else to think. He was not even sure whether it ought to be significant in any way.
Apparently, Hermione's father and his mother had been playmates since they were young. How they had not ended up together was another thing, yet Harry had the feeling Robert Granger and Lily Evans had not been attracted to each other. He did not notice anything in the letter that implied that idea.
"You cried because of this?"
Hermione shoved another letter in his hand.
This time, Harry read it aloud.
--------o0o--------
"She has died, Lily.
My beloved Julia is no more.
I did not know that this was possible, not with how things have been between us. Perhaps, I let myself believe that such cruelty could not exist. We were so happy that I began to think nothing could go wrong.
She had insisted I did not accompany her to childbirth, for it was not the place for men. I would only worry more if I were to see her in pain, she said. If only I had known it would be the last time I would see her alive, I would have gone with her no matter how much she protested.
I heard her crying out. I was in the room just beside hers, you see. And even without seeing her, I knew she was in pain, so much pain. Dear God, I did not know what possessed me to obey her silly command! It was agony, all that waiting. She labored for so long I thought I would go mad. But I knew the moment it was over, for I heard the child cry out.
It was all so overwhelming, to hear some part of you, alive and well. But I did not see the child right away for I wanted to see Julia, to see that she was all right. I wanted to thank her for finally giving me what I have always wanted, a family to call my own. I was excited to hear her laugh in delight, to hear her tell me that the baby took after her, or just see her looking at me again, love shining in her eyes. She did not do any of those things, Lily, for her breaths had been down to her last when I arrived.
I wish I could have stilled time, even for a few minutes just to tell her how much I loved her. I told her everyday since the first day I professed my love, yet it seemed not enough. Forever would not have been to show her how much she meant to me!
Rushing to her side had been the hardest part, for seeing her dying so close slowly took the life out of me. There was too much blood. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen, much more because it was hers that I see. She passed on almost immediately, minutes after I had come. But to me, those minutes had been an eternity.
I wanted to die as well, in fear that I have lost her completely. She was my life, but she left me, on my own. I thought I would not care anymore to breathe even when I could. But I realized that Julia was not lost, for she left a part of her with me.
Our daughter.
Julia gave me a daughter.
You should see her, Lily. She is every bit like her mother. I named her Hermione. Julia was so very fond of that name. I am not certain what color her eyes would be, but for now, they are brown. I wish them to stay that way, for Julia's eyes had been the same shade. She is so very small, but I know she will grow up to be strong. I shall make sure that she will be. Julia would have wanted her daughter to know many things just as she did.
So I will give her the world.
And I will love her, more than life itself. Everything I am, she shall know, and everything she will be, I will accept.
I do not want to be happy today, Lily, but Hermione makes me. Sometimes, when I look at her and she looks back at me, I have the feeling that she knows who I am. Then I start to feel everything will be all right.
And do you know?
I believe it will be.
When this letter reaches you, it would have been days since Julia passed away. I plan to bury her in the Family Garden, where her ancestors are.
Julia had only one wish before she left me completely, and that was to not mourn her death, but celebrate the birth of our child. I hope to give her what she wanted.
I am aware that nearly two months have passed since you gave birth to your son. But I trust you are well enough. I would appreciate it greatly if you and James would come to Ravenclaw Keep.
I have asked countless of favors from you, dear Lily, since we were but children. I do hope you forgive me for asking you this one.
With all my love,
Robert
--------o0o--------
Harry looked up after he had finished.
There were no words between them.
Clearly, he was touched as she.
He who had not yet lost a night's sleep over people he'd killed, not shown concern over the feelings of others, and had yet to believe in the power of love, was moved by what he had read.
There was no mistaking the pure adoration of a father to his child.
"My father loved me, Harry, didn't he?" She asked him, breaking not only the silence but his heart as well.
She was crying again, and he was powerless to stop her. The letter slipped from his hands as he did the only thing he could. He only had his embrace to offer and Hermione clung to him tightly.
"I would say that he did not just love you, sweetheart," Harry murmured against her hair, rubbing her back. "He lived for you."
Hermione's shoulders still shook with remorse.
"I am sorry that I took his life from you."
He had never apologized for a something that was not his concern, but circumstances changed, and so did he.
Hermione moved away from him. Her eyes, which were still liquid pools, gazed up at him. They seemed to shine, not only with tears but with something else as well.
"No." She shook her head. "His death was my fault more than it was yours."
"If I had just abandoned my pride---"
"You had the right to decline. I did not." Hermione interrupted. "When Lord Riddle asked for my hand in marriage, I was clearly aware of what it entailed. Still, I refused. My father told me to do what was right---to follow my heart."
"And you did."
"No." Hermione shook her head again. "My heart told me that if I loved my father, I would marry this heir and not risk his life. But I chose what I thought would be for the better. My mind told me, not my heart. I thought I would be able to convince somebody to help. I came up with plans, but each one of them failed. In the end, I realized I made the mistake of thinking I could outsmart Lord Riddle."
"Do not blame yourself, Hermione." Harry said sternly, taking her hand in his. "There is no use. You must know that the only person who is at fault is Voldemort. Him and his greed for power." His thumb idly soothed the back of her hand. "However, if you have to blame somebody, blame me. It would make me feel much better. You used to do it, too, remember?"
Hermione half-laughed through her tears. "That is not funny, Harry."
Harry chuckled, wiping them with his thumb. "I miss feeling guilty, you know. I do not feel so much of it now."
"Guilt, my lord?" Hermione asked, her mood lifting. "I do believe that is not even in your vocabulary."
And then his features dimmed.
"I assure you, my lady, it is."
Somehow, she had said something to foul his temper. Hermione was sad she did, and would have asked for pardon, if only she knew for what she should be sorry.
"Come with me." Harry said immediately, appearing again as if nothing happened. "I would like to show you something."
---------------------------------------------------
For the second time that day, Hermione felt like crying.
Except, this time, it was not out of remorse, but joy.
Harry had taken her upstairs to the East Wing, where he had pulled her, none too gently into his study. His face was as bright as a boy's was during Christmas day with all his gifts in front of him, waiting to be opened.
It did not matter to him when she explained how she would rather go back to the Duchess' suite and continue sulking, rather than relive the depressing state his study had caused her this morning.
Harry merely laughed at her.
"Trust me, you shall be returning here."
His promise had her snorting in an unladylike manner as he proceeded across the room, dragging her with him, only to stop in front of an ordinary looking shelf.
His silence was a bit disconcerting and she wondered whether this was his big surprise. Then she saw the wretched man grinning at her over his shoulder. She was about to ask him what he was doing when Harry braced his hands against the shelf and pulled apart two of the books stacked together. Only, the books he touched were not the only ones that separated.
Her eyes widened with curiosity when the whole shelf split in two and revealed a door behind it, which Harry had immediately opened.
Her thoughts had gone astray after that as the perfect room in Godric's Hollow revealed itself to her.
She looked around, astounded of the room's existence, not to mention, vastness. From top to bottom, in every nook and corner, books of various titles and genre were perfectly aligned. The display went all around the circular room, and occupied each of the five floors within.
"Why do you have a hidden library?"
An absurd question, but the only one she could think of to ask.
Harry seemed not ponder on this. "I have no clear thought as to why my ancestors built another library, only to hide it from plain view. However, since it is here and I do not have any other use for the space, you are welcome to spend as much time here as you would like."
She whirled around to face him. "You have another library?"
"Well, yes. That one is actually open to guests. But the collections in there are small compared to the ones in here."
Hermione seemed transfixed. She was a bibliophile, and for her, this room was heaven. She should not have judged the book by its cover so literally. And to think, she intended to ignore Harry's study.
She laughed.
"I am assuming that you are pleased."
Hermione looked up at her husband who had come to stand beside her. "Very pleased. Thank you."
He looked uncomfortable. "Think nothing of it. As I said, I do not have much use for this room. If you had not come along, I would have had the walls crushed down."
"And expand that ominous place you call a study?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.
Harry tweaked her nose. "I happen to like ominous places."
Yes, I know, and I wonder why. Hermione sobered.
"It is quarter to five in the afternoon, my lady." Harry filled the silence that had suddenly ensued. "Supper shall be at six. What would you like to do before then?"
Hermione smoothed her skirts and then looked up at him. "I would like to go back to the suite and finish the letters, if you do not mind."
Harry's brows crossed. "Are you certain you are up to reading so soon?"
She gently touched his forearm. "I know that you brought me here to lighten my mood. I appreciate the thought, Harry, and I cannot wait to explore this room. However, I want to finish reading the letters. I know I shall feel better once I do."
The touch he felt on his arm sent warning bells in Harry's mind that he stepped back abruptly. He could not look in her in the eye for some reason and just stared at something above her head.
"All right, if that is what you want."
A puzzled Hermione stepped out of the library and back into Harry's study. She turned back to watch as he closed the door and placed the shelf to where it was originally. She had taken a few strides to the doorway when she noticed that he had not followed.
"You shall not come with me?"
Harry looked at her. "No, I have to continue with my work. I merely wanted to take a break, that is why I went up to see---check on you." Then he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Did you want me to come?"
Hermione shook her head slowly. "No. I was just wondering."
Harry nodded and said no more.
A dismissal, if she ever saw one.
She knew it was coming. His mood swings had been getting confusing lately. He had the ability to charm her one second, and then shut her out the next. If she did not want better, she would have been fine with the arrangement.
Then she remembered the letter that she had brought with her. She had picked it up just before they left the duchess' suite, hoping that she would be able to make him read it.
It was not exactly so important for either of them to lose some sleep over, but she figured it would not hurt for him to find out.
"Here." She handed the folded paper to him.
"What is this?"
"I reckon you would want to know what is inside that letter."
Harry sat down on his chair and swung it towards her direction. He looked at the paper, then back at her. "Before you go, Hermione, I just thought I should inform you. I shall leave for London tomorrow."
"Why?" She looked at him curiously.
"One of my ships has gone missing. There is a trade left hanging because of that. I have to deal with somebody to continue that trade."
"And you could only do that in London?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"No." She daintily lifted her shoulders into what he called a gentle shrug. Her eyes sparkled for a reason. "It will be good to stay here for a while anyway. William did say he would call on me."
Harry stopped rifling through his papers, long enough to shoot a murderous glare in her direction. Fortunately, Hermione did not see it. "You shall be traveling with me."
"I will? But I thought you said---"
"I was not finished. You merely assumed." Harry said.
"But if you shall go to London for business, what purpose shall I serve you?"
Harry had thought of the same thing a while ago. But that was before she inadvertently reminded him that a certain William Averley still existed.
"I cannot leave you on your own until I am assured you can handle yourself in Godric's Hollow."
"I handled myself quite perfectly on my own today."
Another pang of guilt shot through Harry, but he shook it off. "Yes, but today is only a day. And I was close at hand. I---that is to say, we---shall be gone for a senight or so. I daresay I shall not be comfortable during that time, if you were to be alone here."
Hermione looked at him curiously for an awfully long time before finally consenting. "I have no way of winning this, have I?"
"None, whatsoever."
She sighed. "Very well."
Harry nodded with a smug tilt of his head. Then he gazed at her with a look, saying without words that the discussion was over and that she could and should leave now.
Hermione controlled the urge to roll her eyes, and walked away from him. She stopped at the door and turned around. He was still looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face.
She shut the door firmly behind her.
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Minutes had gone by since Hermione left, yet Harry could simply stare at it, dumbfounded. He turned his chair around to face the window in hopeless confusion. After his sudden revelation of her going with him, he did not know exactly what else to think of.
Why did William get to him so much?
Did he actually think that Hermione would fall for that bastard's charms?
Harry sighed in frustration. He had never had these kinds of turmoil before until she came into his life. He was beginning to think that marrying Hermione had somewhat been a joke, and that meeting her had been a mistake of fate.
He turned around again.
Something fell on his lap.
The letter.
Unable to concentrate on anything else that did not concern Hermione, Harry leaned back on his chair and began to read.
--------o0o--------
"A year has passed since Julia had departed this life, Lily, but it seems only yesterday that she was here with me. I wish she could see our daughter blossom, to have that privilege of seeing her smile and look about in wonder, each day.
Hermione is doing beautifully. She has spoken her first words. `Papa' is all I hear from her now every time I walk into the room. Did I not tell you she knows exactly who I am? She will be smart, I am certain of that. And she will be beautiful. She takes more and more after her mama, day after day. I truly believe Julia is with us.
This leads to the reason I have written to you.
I consider every decision made should be thought carefully. As I am the Earl and Keeper of Ravenclaw, I have other duties that entail a lot of my time. I did not favor this, for it may look as if I have forgotten my beloved Julia, but I had to do it.
I have married somebody, Lily.
Her name is Lady Allyson Browen. She is considerably younger than I and have recently made her debut in London. I married her not because I love her. You bear witness to my everlasting devotion to my late countess. I shall not forget her, nor have any intention to replace her. I married, if only to give a mother to my daughter. Hermione has my attention and my love, but she also needs a woman to be there. I believe that Lady Allyson is the perfect one to fill that role. She is of good blood.
However, the future is uncertain. As far as I am concerned, I do not wish for Hermione's to be. As much as I would like to deem that someday she would be a strong woman, I cannot help but be her father.
We have been friends for a long time, Lily. And I have always understood that had you not found James, and I, Julia, we would have agreed to marry. I trust you with my life, and am bold enough to say that you trust me with yours.
I have thought a great deal, about what you said the last time you were here. That is why, even though your proposal had seemed a jest, I do believe that some part of you was serious. I hope that your mind has not changed.
Therefore, I am writing to you with my approval and a draft of the necessary papers to make our agreement legal and binding. You have only to change a word and it shall be done. These papers shall hold proof of our accord, until the day they say no.
I shall be waiting, dear Lily, for your response. I have a feeling it will be favorable on both our parts. I propose, then, an advanced celebration, to be held here in Ravenclaw Keep.
I shall invite all of London's finest. It shall be the grandest ball of the year that not even foul weather could stop them from coming.
I intend to give to our children the best. After all, it is not everyday that the heir to Godric's hollow is betrothed to the heiress of Ravenclaw Keep.
Until then, my friend.
All my love,
Robert
--------o0o--------
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A/N:
The scenes in this chapter are simple, something just for the continuity of their married life together. I hope to God that you would not kill me and say bad things about this…cause I really worked hard for it.
If there are historically incorrect words, inventions, places, etc. in the story, which are not fit for the era, please excuse them. I have not the time or the inclination to search for minute details. But if you know what should be in their place, I would gladly change them for the sake of not misleading anybody…
I also know that Hermione is supposed to be a year older than Harry, but due to the time frame of this story, and it being an Alternate Universe, I had Harry become older by two months. I hope that disturbs no one.
Also, one of the reasons that I failed to update quickly is that I have been hooked with this anime called Kaikan Phrase. It is an inspiring anime, albeit already an old one. I loved it so much that I just had to download the episodes and burn them in a DVD.
Two of the main characters there, the female and male, remind me so much of Harry and Hermione in my story. They look so much like them too. I told you this so that you would know I have not been procrastinating all that much without a reason.
Anyway, the second letter from Robert Granger had served as the turning point in Harry and Hermione's relationship regarding who is to blame for the earl's death. As you can see, it has turned the tables, with Harry now admitting fault while Hermione is no longer accusing him.
I worked hard for this chapter to be meaningful, although there was not much fluff in it, I hope it was worth the wait. If you did not like it, you can only trust me to write something better. I wish that no one flames me for this.
So until next time…please leave some CONSTRUCTIVE reviews! =)
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