A/N: This is a little scene that I had originally wrote to include somewhere in Harry Potter: Beyond the Looking Glass as a flashback, but I don't know that I'll include it, so we'll just stick it up separately. This scene is set about a year after the epilogue of Circle's End, so it falls between Circle's End and LG. Enjoy. Thanks as usual to Lady Starlight for her work on this little bit.
A Night's Musing
July 31, 1999
1:35 am
A soft merow greeted the shadowy newcomer, as the air parted with a whisper and he stepped from out of nowhere into the comfortable environs of the thrice rebuilt home on the coast of Wales. He looked down; a soft glint of light from a single candle left lit for him danced on round lenses, and he picked up the large, orange half-Kneazle he found there.
He slowly walked to the left, petting the cat as he moved, and pushed through a swinging door into a comfortable kitchen. He sat the large feline on a scrubbed butcher block table.
"Don't tell your mum," he said with a faint grin, and scratched behind its ears, before he walked to a stainless steel fronted refrigerator and removed a small plate of turkey and sat it in front of the cat.
A quiet, thankful meow replied, before he turned with one last fond scratch behind the cat's ears and pushed through the swinging door back into the living room. He shrugged off a black, pebbled leather jacket that seemed heavier than it looked and dropped it over the back of the couch, and slowly started up a set of polished hardwood steps to the next floor. He passed the first two doors he came to, knowing that they were empty without looking, though he knew, already, that would not last for a great deal longer.
He moved to the slightly cracked door at the end of the hall, as if it were waiting for him, and slipped through, closing it behind him with a faint click.
The small smile that fell over his lips as he took in the occupants of the bed, their skin painted a soft shade of whitish-blue by the nearly full moon hanging high in the clear night sky outside of the tall bay window. He swallowed heavily at the sight, as a spike of heavy warmth hammered at his gut and emerald eyes misted.
The taller of the pair, her long curls dark brown in the moonlight, made a soft sound in her sleep and curled closer around the small bundle shielded in the curve of her body as she lay on her side facing the door, as if she had been waiting for the newcomer's arrival. Her arms shielded the bundle, curling around it and providing a nest for the infant, who, somehow was the miniature of the larger woman, though the dark curls that already topped her head, were bright blue in the light from the window.
He kicked off his boots and undid a well worn wandbelt hung with a thigh holster and a long dagger held horizontally in the small of his back, along with several other bulging pouches. He dropped it on a chair set in the window, before he padded to the edge of the bed and toed off his socks.
Stretching out on the bed, he rolled onto his side, facing the pair, and slowly reached up, to stroke long, dark curls out of her eyes. They slowly blinked open, a flicker of green danced across chocolate pools and she smiled tiredly, and slowly reached up to take his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers and letting their joined hands rest on the bed.
I thought that we were going to make her sleep in her crib, Harry whispered, squeezing her fingers once.
Em wanted her daddy, Hermione replied, tiredly, her eyes slowly panned down him, even as the pupils dilated, and she let out a quiet, audible gasp. You're hurt, she accused as she found a scrape on his side, visible at the gap between his jeans and t-shirt.
I'm fine, he replied, earning a glare, but no further rebuke, as she curled her head into the cup of his free hand. How are you...I'm sorry, Mione, I wish I could be...
Her lower lip vanished beneath her teeth, I understand, Harry. There's not a choice, not with Tonks and I sidelined...me for another year...
Sorry?
I'm not, she grinned slightly, and turned her head until she could kiss the palm of his hand that was cradling her cheek. I didn't plan it...but I wouldn't change anything, not for the world...I do wish you weren't out there without me, though.
I am kinda useless without you, he whispered, rolling on his back, and picking up the tiny bundle, and setting her on her chest. Hermione moved over to snuggle against his side, resting her head on his chest just above the ebony curls of their daughter, who hadn't even so much as stirred with the move.
She knows it's you, Hermione whispered, changing the subject. Neither of them really liked, they rather hated it actually, that Hermione was not at his side, though unlike the disastrous events of sixth year, this was entirely their fault. At least as much as they actually had control of themselves around each other, though as Hermione's current condition proved, that control was lackadaisical at best.
Emilia had only been born two months ago, and Hermione "cleared for activity" for only about one, even with magical healing, but that had been more than enough time, for the pair of them. Enough time for Hermione to sense the next morning, there were four presences in the bedroom one morning, not three.
Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling and as he played alternately with Hermione's and Emilia's hair, I could take a leave of absence...Dumbledore offered me the DADA job again...Hell, it's not like either of us need to work, anyway, I could just take the time off.
Hermione gestured with one hand, summoning a light blanket from the foot of the bed to cover her bare legs, and Harry's jeans clad ones. Can we afford to, Harry...the remnants are, whether we like it or not, running scared...hiding because you are out hunting them. I know you feel bad, Harry, I want you here too, but you are keeping us safe, baby...there's no one else I'd rather have keeping our sprog...sprogs safe than you.
He shrugged silently, and paused in his idle combing of her hair, I miss you...out there, Remus just isn't the same.
I hope not, Hermione snorted loudly, causing Emilia to let out a soft squeak, and roll onto her side, to be stopped from failing off her father, by her mother's chest. She snuggled in against Hermione automatically and Hermione bent her head to kiss Em's hair. Night, Harry.
Night, Mione...Night, Em, he added after a moment, after she seemed to make a disappointed noise at him forgetting her.
And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.