Author Notes: for general story stuff, see Chapter One. In THIS chapter, we get a lot more character development. So read on for the longest chapter yet!
I've decided this fic will eventually be comprised of five chapters, perhaps an epilogue as well. And with any luck it'll be finished by the end of next week. So stick with me, everyone! And thanks so much for all the thoughtful reviews.
---
CHAPTER THREE
---
However angry with Harry Ron and Hermione might be, they had certainly spread the news of his return. The next day Harry received over sixty owls at breakfast alone. They came from friends, old Hogwarts classmates and professors, and even a few from people he'd never met before in his life, who could only have been alerted through the gossip chain. The wizarding world was really very small, Harry reflected for the hundredth time.
His guilt at leaving had been activated full force by his reunions with Ron and Hermione, and consequently Harry sent a prompt reply to every single owl that required one. The most important or most guilt-inducing ones he saved for last; therefore the letter at the very bottom of the pile was from none other than Molly Weasley.
Dear Harry, it began. I can't tell you how absolutely overjoyed I am to hear from Ron about your safe return to London. We've all missed you terribly over the three years that have passed, some of us worrying ourselves sick. But you're back now, and that's simply wonderful.
I also understand you've found out about dear little Dotty. I'm so glad. Hermione's had a hard time these past few years, even harder thinking you might be out there somewhere, entirely unaware you had a daughter. I know she must be furious with you, but she will forgive you eventually. The important thing is to keep trying. Same with Ron.
Harry, I have something else to say about Hermione, and it's of an extremely sensitive nature. It's also based on nothing more than a series of motherly hunches, so take it with a grain of salt, but I feel I must say my piece.
I believe Hermione had romantic feelings for you during the last year or so you were with us. She never expected them to be returned and so never mentioned them or acted upon them, but I saw something there just the same.
I watched Hermione as you interacted with Ginny during the short time you two were dating, and I paid careful attention to her dealings with my youngest son. I know she never had the same feelings for Ron that he had for her, though she might have thought she was supposed to and so wished rather than believed those feelings to be there. But your safety and happiness was always her first concern.
Hermione wasn't surprised when you left, Harry, but she was crushed. Everybody could see it. I know you two were together only once, and Hermione never described it as anything more than a spur-of-the-moment celebratory fling, but the pain was there in her eyes. Particularly once she found out she was pregnant, and you were nowhere to be found.
Harry, I know you had no idea about Dotty. I have my doubts as to whether leaving for three years was wise, but I know you would never have knowingly deserted your child. The one thing I don't know, however, was how you felt about Hermione before you left. Ron has made several mentions to me of a certain tension he used to perceive between you two, entirely different from the constant bickering unique to their relationship. And he has gotten over Hermione in time, as I knew he would.
Oh dear. I've been rambling for a while, and you must be growing tired of reading about concerns that may very well be baseless. I'll say only this, then: be kind to her, Harry. She's been through more than you can know, and she's done it all with a smile. Hermione is truly a strong person, but none of us knew just how strong until Dotty came into our lives.
I love you like my own son, Harry, and not knowing what had become of you frightened me terribly. I'm so happy you're back with us. Please come to the Burrow soon - we'll have a long overdue celebratory dinner.
With love and affection,
Molly Weasley
p.s. Arthur sends his warm regards.
Harry folded the letter shut, thinking hard. Yes, Mrs. Weasley's words had guilted him every bit as much as he'd expected - but the part that really shook him was her suggestion that Hermione used to, or still did, care for him as more than a friend.
In those last months before Voldemort's downfall, he, Ron and Hermione had been living in their unplottable cabin, receiving daily training from members of the Order. Life during that time was extremely tense. Looking back, Harry could see that now. All three of them were afraid to recognize just how much they meant to each other, for fear that they'd lose each other sometime very soon.
He and Hermione had grown closer, though, in an odd way. Sometimes when they were alone she'd give him a searching look, then walk over and just hold him, letting him sag into her arms and let go of his fears for a few blessed minutes. Because of how surreal and survivalistic their existence had become, he didn't think of it as anything more than basic human kindness. And Hermione was kind, maybe the kindest person he knew.
But what if it had been something more?
Searching his own feelings, Harry could admit he'd never liked the idea of Ron and Hermione together. Imagining it always felt…uncomfortable. But their relationship was like that on its own; it didn't necessarily mean Harry was jealous.
The memory of his one tryst with Hermione returned to him, as it often had over the last three years. Hermione had aroused him beyond anything he'd felt before or since, no doubt about that. His overwhelming desire for her had been painfully real.
But, as she herself had told Ron and as he'd assumed at the time, it could have been nothing but the primal joy of survival, the rush of adrenaline from having made it to hell and back again.
Harry closed his eyes, remembering every look that had passed between them, every touch, and an idea grew in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, while holding Hermione's face in his hands and looking into her eyes for that long moment, the staggering relief he'd felt at her safety and well-being had overcome him, had shattered through long years of denial. Long years of assuming it was going to be Hermione and Ron at the end of the story, years of fooling himself that he didn't care for her that deeply, because the implications were just too frightening.
Harry had wondered about that from time to time, though he tried not to. After all, during his years on the island, it was always Hermione's voice in his head that pleaded with him to come home.
They'd been close, no doubt. Whenever his mind had been too full, whenever he felt like he was going to go mad from the cacophony fears and doubts, Hermione was the one to pick up on it and to calm him. Conversely, whenever she was threatened or in danger, his mind emptied of thought and his body went icy with rage. His most devastating hexes, he realized, had all been cast in protection of her.
It was all starting to make sense in Harry's head. Puzzle pieces were coming together, falling into place with alarming speed. She'd been by his side during all his most harrowing adventures - and truthfully, he'd wanted no one else. They were best at attack magic when they hexed together, double-teaming whatever unfortunate Dark Wizard happened to be at their wands' mercy. And they constantly saved each other's skins, watching out the corner of their eyes to make sure the other was okay.
Never had Harry thought these things might hint at deeper feelings, a deeper compatibility, but now they all seemed startling in their clarity.
And to top it all off, she'd borne his child.
Love and compassion for Hermione swelled in his heart. If Mrs. Weasley was right, then what Hermione had gone through had been much more difficult than it seemed on the surface. Which was really saying something.
Frustrated, Harry dropped his fist on the desk. He needed to see her, needed to. Why exactly, he didn't know. But she said it would take time, and now he had to wait.
Harry let out a short laugh. If anybody deserved that kind of treatment, he thought, it was definitely him.
*
A week later Harry moved into his new flat. He'd wanted to settle in quickly, and of course the elderly female landlord had been more than happy to oblige the Great Harry Potter. Especially since he was willing to pay the asking price and then some.
His new flat was spacious, with two bedrooms, a large kitchen, and a sunny roof garden. It was nestled down a quiet wizarding alley quite close to Diagon Alley. All that put together meant it didn't come cheap, but circumstances had arranged themselves in such a way that Harry wasn't lacking for Galleons, and picking a nice place was important to him. He meant to rebuild his life the right way, and that meant finding a job he liked and having friends over often to fill the empty space in his flat.
He'd had a couple of evenings out with Ron since their first meeting, catching up on his friend's life and slowly easing into the social scene. But he hadn't yet heard from Hermione. This didn't really worry him; Ron had spoken to Hermione, and told Harry he didn't think it would be much longer.
All told, Harry thought, surveying his mostly-empty flat, he had hardly any belongings. Some serious shopping was in order. He groaned at the thought.
A knock came at the door. Had to be Ron, he figured, since Ron was the only one who had his new address. So he was utterly unprepared to open the door and find Hermione standing there, wearing a royal blue overcoat and looking very anxious indeed.
"Hey," she said quickly. "Ron gave me your address. I thought about owling you first, but I decided it would better to just talk in person."
He nodded, opening the door wider. She walked inside, taking in the empty flat.
"I'm glad you came," was the first thing he said. "Where's Dotty?"
"With Ginny."
"Ah."
"I suppose you have a lot of questions," Hermione said in a rush. "And so do I. So let's get to it. Er…do you have anywhere to sit?"
Harry smiled. It was her old nervous way of talking - she twisted her fingers together, looking down at the floor. "Not really," he said apologetically. "I haven't any furniture. There's a sleeping bag in one of the bedrooms, and my old Hogwarts trunk, but that's about it."
"Well then." Hermione turned to face him, and he was relieved to see her smile. "I guess we'd better venture out of doors."
*
"I'd planned to show up today in a right strop," was the first thing Hermione said when they sat down at a nearby café, coffees on the table in front of them. "But I'll be honest, Harry. The more I think about it, the more I'm just plain glad you're back."
She smiled at him hesitantly, and Harry felt his heart fill.
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that. But really, Hermione, you've got every right to yell at me, and then some."
"I know that," she said frankly.
"Well, good." He ventured a smile of his own. "As long as you're aware."
Hermione grinned widely, shedding her blue overcoat - and Harry felt a shock to his system. It had been three years since he'd seen her, yes, but even longer since he'd seen her smile like that. The months before he left weren't happy times.
"As much as I'd like to pretend otherwise - and I'm sure you would as well - we do have some serious things to discuss, Harry."
He nodded.
"I'll go first," she offered, "since I'm sure Ron would like to hear your end of it. So go ahead, Harry. Ask me anything you'd like."
He sat for a minute, thinking. "When was Dotty born?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
Hermione looked startled, but smiled. "March third."
"Did everything…go okay?"
"It was an intense time," Hermione said slowly. "By then, of course, I was big as a house and ready to get it over with. But during the pregnancy I would switch from being happy, to being angry with you, to being terrified. All in the course of five minutes."
Harry nodded, watching her face carefully.
"She was born at the Burrow." Hermione paused, lost in the memory. "My water broke and it was happening so fast, there just wasn't time to make it to St. Mungo's or anywhere else. I wasn't in a condition to apparate, and you know pregnant women aren't supposed to Floo.
"We got word to my parents and they made it there just as she was born. I won't lie, Harry, it hurt like hell. Second only to the Cruciatus curse. But the feeling in my heart was indescribable as they handed her to me. This might sound trite, but she was perfect."
A million reactions were flying through Harry's brain. Pride. Belated worry. Sorrow that he hadn't been there with her. "How'd you pick the name?" he asked.
"I've always loved the name Dorothy. Ann was my grandmother's name." She tilted her head, smiling a little. "Do you like it?"
"I think it's beautiful," he said truthfully. "What's she like?"
"Wow. Tough question." Hermione clasped her hands over her knee. "She's tough. Doesn't cry when she falls down. Very independent, she's always running ahead of me down the street. I guess you saw that last week. Obviously she can't read yet, but she loves for me to read to her - she loves when anyone reads to her, really - and she follows the words with her finger along the page."
"Sounds like you," Harry said softly. God, he thought. He'd missed too much.
"My mother tells me she's exactly like I was, except less stubborn. She must get that from you," Hermione mused. "You were probably a very sweet-tempered little boy."
"Hermione," Harry said then, his voice thick with emotion, "I can't tell you how much I wish I'd been there. For your sake, to help you through it, but also for my own sake." He paused, then went ahead and said it. "I want to make up for lost time."
Hermione's eyes locked with his, staring straight into him. "I want that too," she said. "But you've been gone so long. Do you think it's possible?"
"It's got to be," he said firmly. "I feel such an idiot, Hermione. If only I'd stayed another couple of weeks, I'd have known about the baby and I never would have left."
Hermione sighed. "I want to believe that's true, Harry-"
"It is," he said fiercely, reaching across the table and taking her hand. "You have to believe me, Hermione."
Again, she seemed to look straight inside him. "I believe you," she said finally. "But really, a couple of weeks wouldn't have made any difference. I didn't find out for a month and a half. Besides, your mind was made up. There was no way you could have hung around for even half that time."
She had a point, Harry thought. "I was in a bad place," he said simply. "The world felt suffocating."
"Because the last few years of your life had been hell, Harry. For us too, but you most of all. That goes without saying."
He shook his head firmly. "No excuses."
"It's not an excuse, it's just a fact. Your entire world had fallen apart. You had no foundation, nowhere to go. Not even the people who loved you most could help you. However much they might have wanted to, or wished they could."
She gazed down at the table as she said this. Harry looked at her keenly, but she didn't meet his eyes.
"Tell me more about Dotty," he said after a moment.
Hermione sipped her coffee, thinking. "She loves frogs, she's got about seven of them in an aquarium in her bedroom. She's always wanting a new one every time we go to Diagon Alley. I despise the things myself, I'm terrified they'll escape into the flat. I always ask her, `Dotty, how about a nice kitty cat?' But she never takes the bait. And when I try to convince her that frogs prefer living in the wild to living in aquariums, she sees right through it.
"And my, does she love her Aunt Ginny. Uncle Ron, too. Her favorite is when I have to work late and they both come to baby sit. But for the most part, she's a momma's girl."
"I bet she is," Harry said, watching Hermione's animation in talking about her daughter. Their daughter. "I want to spend time with her."
Hermione examined him seriously. "She'd love you, Harry."
Harry was acutely aware that it wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no, either.
"She's been asking about her daddy lately," Hermione said carefully.
"I know that," Harry said, sighing. "Ron told me."
"You have to understand, Harry. I can't introduce Dotty to her father without knowing if-without knowing for sure if-"
"Hermione?" he said gently, and waited till her eyes met his. "I'm not going to leave again."
Hermione examined him, just as she had before. She'd already said it, she didn't have to say it again. I want to believe you, Harry, but….
"So," Harry said, to break the tense silence, "I've decided you and Ron ought to come over for dinner sometime soon. Ginny too, and the rest of the Weasleys if they can. I've contacted Remus and Tonks - they're not far from here. We'll make a night of it. And maybe you two can come a bit early, so I can explain what I've been up to."
"Hmm." Hermione tapped her chin with her hand, while Harry tried not to look too anxious about her answer. "I've got a problem with that, Harry."
He swallowed. "And what's that?"
"You don't have any furniture, you daft git."
Hermione grinned at him; he laughed loudly. "You're absolutely right," he said. "I've got to do some shopping."
"You mean we have," she said firmly. "You need a woman's touch."
I could kiss her, Harry thought to himself, looking at her generous, smiling face - then fell to wonderment as he realized it was really true.
"So," he said, desperate to distract himself. "Tomorrow?"
Hermione nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon. And I'll bring Dotty."
*
End of Chapter Three! Chapter Four coming soon - one can only hope! Also, reviews are love.
Oh, and in case you missed the note on Chapter One, you can find a more aesthetically pleasing version of this story on my LJ: http://louisalorin.livejournal.com. But you'll have to friend me first. :)
-->