Original Sin

I wanted to enter the Elderwand Competition, obviously, so this was born. I’m going to leave it open just in case I want to write more chapters...but for the time being this is going to be the only one. Although the site encourages the disregardance of The Epilogue, I cannot bring myself to counter it. I will forever hate J.K. Rowling for writing it, leaving very few openings, but such is life. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t....oh, how do you say it.... twist and contort it to make it more bearable. ::grin:: Enjoy.

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Original Sin

Six Years After the Fall of Voldemort...

The stars twinkled down at Harry from the heavens, the sky as clear and flawless as he’d ever seen it. He walked silently across the vacant street from the patch of trees where he’d apparated, his destination only a few feet in front of him. He walked down the cobblestone path and proceeded up the small flight of stairs, stopping at the top step. He stared at the door carefully, as if steeling himself for an unpredictable situation. The door had no keyhole – instead he removed his wand and tapped it once on the knob, the door opening of its own accord as he did so.

He hadn’t taken a step inside the house when he heard footsteps from the upper level.

“Where have you been?” asked Ginny angrily, walking down the stairs. “It’s gone nearly ten!”

“You know where I’ve been,” sighed Harry, hanging his coat up on the peg next to the door. “And don’t yell, you’ll wake James.”

“He’s been down for a few hours,” she said, quieter. “And if I knew where you’d been, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I was out with your brother and Hermione,” he replied, walking past her into the kitchen.

“Oh...” she said, slightly deflated. “That was tonight?”

“It’s every other Wednesday, Gin,” he said, pulling a glass bottle filled with a familiar amber liquid out of the cabinet.

“Drinking already?” she asked in a criticizing tone of voice.

“It’s nighttime!” exclaimed Harry, his patience wearing thin. “What’s this about, Ginny? Are you angry that I keep going to spend time with my best friends? They’re our best friends, you know. I’ve asked you a hundred times if you want to come along, but you always say no.”

“Who’ll watch James?” she countered, as if him daring him to answer.

“Luna?” he suggested as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She loves him, you know that.”

“I have my reservations about her,” said Ginny looking away slightly.

“Why? Because she’s a little insane?” asked Harry, his anger mounting. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was insane when I was walking to my death all those years ago, but I don’t see anyone, much less you criticizing me about that.”

“Her father tried to sell you to the Ministry,” she argued.

“Oh, and you’re telling me that you wouldn’t do the same for James?” asked Harry, crossing his arms.

“Of course I would,” she said softly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Harry firmly. “What’s this all about?”

“I want you home more,” she said flatly. “You, Ron, and Hermione have had each other for almost fourteen years now...I don’t like it when you’re gone.”

“It’s twice a month,” said Harry, almost unable to believe his ears.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be home alone, not certain of when or if you’re getting home –”

“I didn’t realize our son was unsuitable company,” said Harry, getting up and walking past Ginny into the hall.

“Where are you gong?” she asked as he grabbed his coat.

“Out,” he said. “I need to clear my head before something stupid happens.”

“Are you ser –”

But Ginny’s sentence was cut off by the sound of the door slamming. Harry walked furiously to the trees across the lane, not surprised that his wife made no effort to follow him. Barely thinking about where he was going, he turned on the spot and disappeared.

When he came back to reality, he found himself outside an old brick building on the outskirts of London, flickering street lamps casting an eery glow over the concrete of the sidewalk he was standing on. Quickly looking around, he thankfully realized that there were no muggles present to witness his sudden appearance. Walking up the cracked steps, he pressed the button labeled ‘3A’ and waited for a response.

“Hello?” asked Hermione’s voice over the speaker.

“It’s Harry,” he said glumly. There was no response. The buzzer rang out signaling the door was unlocked, and Harry entered, trudging up the steps to his friends’ flat.

He found Hermione leaning against the open door frame waiting for him as he climbed the last few stairs to their floor.

“What’s up?” she asked. “You usually don’t come around like this.”

“Ginny and I had a row,” he said as she ushered him inside and took his coat. “Long story short, she either doesn’t trust me or wants to put a pair of cuffs on me and chain me to the house.”

Hermione said nothing, and it was clear to Harry that she was holding her tongue. He sat down on the sofa as she bolted the door and joined him.

“Where’s Ron?” he asked conversationally.

“We hadn’t been home five minutes when he got called in on emergency,” she replied.

“The assignment he’s working on?” asked Harry. Hermione nodded.

“Apparently they got a solid lead and needed him to help run the operation,” she said. “He left so fast he forgot to say goodbye.” She said this with a weak laugh.

“Sounds like we’ve both had a great night so far,” smiled Harry.

“It was good until we all got home,” she said, returning his smile.

“Do you ever get the feeling that you have to try too hard to make it work?” he asked honestly.

“With Ron?” she replied. Harry nodded. “He drives me crazy sometimes,” she sighed. “I just...there are some things he and I will never see eye to eye on, and he just loves to push my buttons with them.”

“I’m afraid I don’t really know what that’s like,” said Harry apologetically. “Ginny and I rarely talk about important things, actually.”

“That’s not a good sign, Harry,” said Hermione.

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “She’s just not on the same level as you.” He failed to see Hermione blush slightly at this. “I can’t talk to her about politics, or about psychology of muggles, or anything important at all.”

“A lot of quidditch in your house, then,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Pretty much,” replied Harry flatly. “She just has no interest in such things...and it drives me crazy that I can’t talk to her about anything at all that relates to my job.”

“She never wanted you to be an auror, remember,” reminded Hermione.

“She wanted me to play quidditch,” nodded Harry. “‘Much safer,’ if I remember her words correctly.”

“Depends on your point of view,” smiled Hermione. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“What have you got?” he asked as she got up.

“A lot of muggle stuff,” she replied. “Gin...vodka...bourbon...scotch...”

“I’ll have some scotch,” said Harry. “Do you have any ice?”

“How many cubes?” she asked, already poking her head in the freezer.

“Two is fine,” he answered, as she carefully dropped two ice cubes into the two glasses she had poured.

“It’s strong stuff,” warned Hermione, walking back over and handing Harry his glass. He took a sip and coughed.

“You don’t say,” he laughed.

“To us,” smiled Hermione, raising her scotch.

“To us,” he nodded, clinking the glasses together. “We haven’t had any real time just the two of us since back then, have we?”

“No, we haven’t,” she said sadly. “And nothing against you, of course, but our minds weren’t on bonding back then.”

“I know,” he nodded. “I can’t believe it’s been almost seven years.”

“It doesn’t feel like it, does it?” asked Hermione.

“I can’t believe my son is almost three,” laughed Harry. “So much has changed since back then.”

“It has,” nodded Hermione almost imperceptibly, looking away. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Is something on your mind?” he asked. Hermione looked momentarily stunned that he had noticed her movement, but recomposed herself quickly.

“Nothing,” she smiled. “You though, you need to work things out with Ginny.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about her,” he sighed, failing to realise she had successfully changed the subject. “How can we raise James effectively if all we’re doing is arguing?”

“I don’t have a child, so I can’t tell you,” she smiled sadly.

“Sometimes I wonder what I saw in her,” said Harry angrily, throwing his drink back.

“Easy there, tiger,” said Hermione, taking his empty glass.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as Hermione rose.

“Promise not to drain this one,” she laughed, taking the bottle of golden liquid from the cabinet and refilling both their drinks.

“You have my word,” he smiled as she sat back down, handing him his glass.

“Can I ask you something?” asked Hermione, after a few moments.

“Sure,” nodded Harry, the affects of alcohol starting to make him feel quite content.

“I know it’s strange to ask this after all these years...but do you remember after you killed Voldemort, how we went into the headmaster’s office and you asked Dumbledore those questions?”

“Of course,” nodded Harry.

“What was the thing in the snitch that you dropped and didn’t go find?”

Harry took leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering.

“The last Hallow,” he replied. “The Resurrection Stone.”

“...had you used it?” asked Hermione softly.

“My parents, Sirius, and Lupin came,” he said. “I was walking to my death, after all...I didn’t think there was any harm in talking to them slightly early.”

“That’s wonderful,” she smiled, not pressing the subject further. “That’s what I thought it was going to be, but I wasn’t sure and I’ve actually been curious all these years whether or not you had been right in your theory –”

“Take a breath, dear,” grinned Harry.

“Sorry,” muttered Hermione, blushing.

“What made you think of that, anyway?”

“I...I was just thinking about the old days and I remembered it,” she said shrugging.

“Forgive me if I don’t want to remember the old days at all,” muttered Harry.

“You really don’t love Ginny anymore, do you?”

Her bluntness caught Harry off guard. He set his drink down carefully on the table next to him and looked at her intently, not wanting to phrase his response incorrectly.

“She’s the mother of my son,” he said finally. “And I know she loves me. But...sometimes I get the feeling that she’s in love with Harry Potter, the Boy who Won, not me....and it’s those times when I want nothing to do with her.”

“You need to remember that you were never anyone else to her back when you got together,” reminded Hermione. “Just like...”

She trailed off and Harry arched an eyebrow.

“Just like what?” he asked.

“Just like how I’ve always been the comfortable, safe option for Ron,” she said softly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Harry.

“That’s because neither of us have talked to you about it...at least I think not,” said Hermione. “Ron and I have had so many rows over the years...he thinks that because I’m more of a quiet person and care about intelligence instead of sports that it makes him the ‘man’ of the family.”

“Oh.”

“I love him, I really do,” she started, “but sometimes when he acts like that, I wonder what I was thinking in falling for him.” She looked out the window silently, slowly swirling the contents of her glass.

Harry wasn’t sure that the alcohol wasn’t affecting his thoughts, but with the dim light casting a soft glow around Hermione, he couldn’t help but realise how beautiful she was.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” blushed Hermione, looking down at the couch. Realising he’d said his last thought out loud, he continued on.

“And Ron’s a wanker for not noticing it.”

“And Ginny’s a bint for not understand you,” said Hermione, looking at him intensely.

And then something happened that neither of them were quite prepared for. Hermione put down her glass, closed the distance between herself and Harry, and planted her lips on his.

Harry’s eyes widened in shock momentarily before he gave in and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her with a passion that he hadn’t had with Ginny in years.

“What are we doing?” whispered Harry as they pulled away for a moment.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione, looking fearful. “But...I want this so much.”

“Me too,” nodded Harry, still looking at her. “But what if Ron comes home?”

“He said he wouldn’t be home until morning,” she replied. “But...we’d better move just in case he floo’s in early.”

“Where to?” asked Harry as they got up.

“Follow me,” said Hermione so softly that it sounded deadly. She took his hand and led him down the hall to the room that she and Ron usually shared.

“Hermione –”

She silenced him by placing a finger to his lips.

“No more words,” she said, leading him into the room and closing the door behind her.

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Alright, so yeah. There’s obviously going to be another chapter. Either one or two more...I have to see how much material is going to be in the next one. Let me know if you liked it, and don’t forget to give it a rating in the Elderwand Competition!

Well...what a feeble response to the first chapter. I wasn’t aware that so many people were against adultery in fiction...oh well. I mean, yeah, it’s not good...but I think people consider it as if it were an Unforgivable. Remember, there is no scenario, situation, or instance that is either bad or good ALL the time. There’s always gray area. Always. I’m not condoning cheating on your wife or husband of twenty years on a whim. I’m just saying that if couple ‘A’ doesn’t love each other, and couple ‘B’ doesn’t love each other, and one person from each finds the other...can you blame them? That’s all I’m saying.

Read on.

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Two months later...

Harry sat in silence at his desk at Auror Headquarters. It had just gone five, and everyone had hustled out of the office rather quickly, leaving him to his thoughts, the static ticking of a clock, and the small piece of parchment in his hand that had arrived not ten minutes ago.

This parchment was truly unlike any he had ever seen in his lifetime...and that was saying something. The handwriting, though familiar, was messy. It wasn’t a whole sheet of parchment, just a small scrap as if torn from a roll in a hurry. Most of all, there were dark splotches scattered in a few places, which he assumed to be teardrops.

I need to see you soon, privately.

-Hermione

Harry sighed and reclined back in his chair. He and Hermione had not spoken about that one night a couple months ago since it had happened. He’d left shortly after they were finished, and although neither of them regretted it, they’d agreed to put it behind them for fear of hurting their spouses.

‘Perhaps Ron left her,’ mused Harry to himself. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if that was the case...she’d need comfort, and he knew he’d be the one to give it to her, but there was Ginny to consider.

“No point in fussing about it,” he muttered, getting up and heading over to the public Floo fireplace. Taking a small pinch of the powder from a pot on the mantle, he tossed it in and spoke clearly, “Number twenty-four, Hatchery Lane, Godric’s Hollow,” before sticking his head in. “Ginny?”

“Coming,” he heard her call from the sitting room. She entered and looked around the kitchen for a bit before seeing his head in the fireplace. “Oh, you’re not actually home yet.”

“I need to stay a little late to finish up a report,” he said. “I should be home before seven, at the latest.”

“Alright,” replied Ginny, nodding. “I’ll put a warming charm on dinner.”

“Thank you,” smiled Harry, withdrawing his head from the fireplace. He still cared a great deal about Ginny, but the spark they’d once had as teenagers had long since been extinguished. Taking another pinch of powder, he threw it in and said, “Apartment 3A, twelve-sixteen Wentworth Avenue, London.” Again, he stuck his head in. “Anyone there?”

“Me,” said Hermione, walking into sight. “You can come over, Ron went out to grab take-out.”

He stepped through the fireplace and into the flat. He hadn’t been over since the night two months ago...everything was still as he remembered it.

“We obviously don’t have long,” said Harry.

“Probably fifteen minutes at the most,” nodded Hermione glumly.

“What’s the matter?” he asked concerned, sitting down on the couch with her.

“There’s no point in beating around the bush,” she sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

Harry froze.

“I know it’s obscenely rude that my mind is going here first instead of congratulating you, but...who’s the father?”

Hermione slowly looked up at him, tears building in her eyes.

“It’s not Ron,” she said so softly, it was almost a whisper.

“Bloody hell,” said Harry, leaning back against the cushions.

“You’re telling me,” she laughed, although it was very weak and Harry could tell Hermione was scared out of her mind.

“Come here,” he said, holding his arms out. Hermione wasted no time in crawling into his embrace, crying silently as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“Unless we’re planning on breaking things off with Ron and Ginny,” said Harry, “you’re going to have to tell Ron it’s his.”

“What if she looks like you?” asked Hermione.

“She?”

“Um, they told me it’s a girl,” she said. “When I went to St. Mungo’s today.”

“I see,” said Harry, though a slight smile was on his face. “Well, I do look a bit like your father, don’t I?”

“A bit,” nodded Hermione.

“So there you go, Ron’s not pushy, he won’t press you...he’ll be too happy that he’s a father.” Harry began to feel worse and worse for his best mate as each word passed through his lips.

“I’m sorry,” she cried into his chest. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Harry. “I’m as much at fault here as you are.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I need to know...does anyone aside from us know that I’m the father?”

“No,” said Hermione. “The healers didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell.”

“So how do you know it’s me?”

“They traced the conception date to the night...the night we were together.”

“Alright,” said Harry. “Look, I’ll try and stop by soon...Ron’s going away on assignment for a little while in three weeks, I can come over and keep you company every so often while he’s gone.”

“Thank you,” she nodded. “You need to get going, he’ll be back any minute.”

Hermione slid off Harry and he stood up, but not before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We’ll get through this,” he said reassuringly. “I promise.”

“I’m terrified.”

“You’re going to love being a mother,” smiled Harry, throwing his cloak on.

“I’m going to be a mother, aren’t I?” asked Hermione, also smiling for the first time that evening.

“And a bloody brilliant one at that,” he grinned, grabbing some Floo powder. “Ministry of Magic, Auror’s Office.”

“Password?” a female voice asked from the other end.

“Wimblegoose,” he replied, and the fireplace roared to life. “I’ll be in touch,” he said to Hermione. She said nothing, only nodded as he stepped through the fire and back into the Ministry.

The fire had barely died down when she heard the turn of a key in the door, Ron stepping through it a moment later with his arms full of Chinese food.

“Was someone just here?” he asked, setting the bags down on the kitchen table.

“Harry,” she replied. “He wanted to ask you something.”

“Did he say what?”

“No,” shrugged Hermione, pulling dishes from the cabinets. “Bloke stuff I assume.”

=====

Harry didn’t sleep that night. More than once he found himself staring at his sleeping son from the doorway, as if silently asking the child to give him advice.

The three weeks preceding Ron’s assignment passed in a blurry haze for both Harry and Hermione. On the first night Ron was gone, Harry made arrangements to spend some time with her, telling Ginny he was going out to scout a lead.

He stepped through the fireplace, wiping the soot off his robes as he looked around for Hermione.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she called out, as if reading his thoughts. He dropped his cloak on the couch and walked into the next room, where Hermione was standing at the stove with her back to him.

“Something smells delicious,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s just Alfredo,” she replied, turning around and hugging him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he said, sighing. “How’ve you been handling the morning sickness?”

“I’ve been getting through it,” she said, resuming her watch on the pot, “but it feels like gremlins are doing a tapdance in my stomach every time I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What for?” asked Hermione, turning her head to look at him.

“If I had never come over –”

“Don’t you finish that sentence,” she said. “We both wanted it. We both needed it...and because of it we get to be parents.”

“You do,” said Harry. “I’m not going to get to see her grow up...her first steps, her first words...”

“You’ll still get to see her,” replied Hermione. “You and Ginny are going to be the godparents, after all.”

“You and Ron decided on that already, then?”

“Along with a name,” she nodded, ladling great amounts of pasta onto two plates. “Rose.”

“Gorgeous name,” he said, picking up the plates. “Let me carry these.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Nothing from the cabinet,” he responded dryly, placing the dinner on the table. “Butterbeer is fine if you have it.”

“And water for me,” she said, pouring herself a glass and removing a brown bottle from the fridge. “How’s work been?”

“Pretty standard stuff,” he shrugged. “I can’t really talk about it, you know.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Doesn’t stop me from asking.”

“How about you, how’s the law career?” asked Harry, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s good...slow, but good,” said Hermione. “And I’m definitely not going to be making much progress when I’m on maternity leave.”

“When do you start that?” he asked, lifting his fork to his mouth. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“Thanks...I don’t start that for a while,” she replied. “I want to work for as long as possible.”

“Understandable,” said Harry. “Any interesting cases?”

“I actually did some file work on the guy you brought in the other week,” she said. “He got twenty-five years.”

“Memory modification,” spat Harry, disgusted. “He deserved life.”

“What was it exactly that he did?”

“He was in love with this woman who didn’t love him back, so one night he followed her home and modified her memory to make her think she was in love with him.”

“How’d he get caught?”

“Well her boyfriend knew something was up, didn’t he?” laughed Harry. “Came to us right away. Took a while to catch the guy though...couldn’t arrest him without proof, after all.”

“What happened?”

“We waited until he had to modify her memory again...it wears off over time, you see,” explained Harry. “We were trailing him for months until we saw him cast it...then it was just the matter of arresting him before he cast anything else.”

“You certainly did a fine job of it,” nodded Hermione. “I don’t suppose you know where Ron’s gone?”

“He didn’t tell you?” he asked, surprised.

“He said he wasn’t supposed to tell me.”

“Well, technically no,” nodded Harry. “But the even the office says it’s not good for a relationship to keep so many secrets...they actually advise to tell some things as long as they’re not extremely important.”

“I never knew that,” sighed Hermione, leaning back. “I wonder what else he hasn’t told me.”

“He’s in Madrid,” said Harry. “I don’t know the specifics of the case, but I hear it has to do with a muggle slavery ring.”

“By use of the Imperius Curse?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah, it’s pretty high-level stuff,” he replied. “I was a bit surprised when they assigned Ron to it, but I had asked to be looked over on this one.”

“Why?”

“I was too busy thinking about other things,” admitted Harry after a moment. “This case came right up the very day after...after we got together.”

“I see,” said Hermione, quietly.

“I wanted to sort everything out...and this case would have required my undivided attention,” he said.

“I understand,” nodded Hermione. “I actually took that day off...I sat home and watched romantic movies.”

“Would you like to watch another?” asked Harry, finishing off his food.

“You don’t need to get back?”

“I told Ginny I was following a lead, and that she shouldn’t expect me home at any given time.”

“Alright,” nodded Hermione. “I guess I’d like that.”

“I’ll clean up,” said Harry. “You pick out whatever you want to watch.”

“Do you care for musicals?” she asked as they stood up.

“Depends on the musical,” replied Harry with a smile as he walked over to the sink. “But I can deal with most of them.”

“How about The Phantom of the Opera?”

“I love Webber,” he said, cleaning the dishes magically and replacing them in their respective cabinets.

“Good,” said Hermione, placing the disc in the player and sitting down on the couch. “I haven’t seen this in ages.”

“It’s definitely a wonderful story,” he said. “I saw the performance live about a year and a half ago.”

“How was it?” she asked as the movie began to play.

“Awful,” he laughed, walking over and sitting down next to her. “I could’ve done a better job if I was directing.”

“Oh well,” she smiled, leaning against him.

They didn’t say much for the duration of the film, but at one point Harry’s hand unconsciously slipped to Hermione’s abdomen protectively, an action which brought a smile to her face.

The movie ended two hours later, and they got up to stretch as the credits began to roll.

“It never gets old,” smiled Hermione.

“Certainly not,” said Harry looking at her intently. “Even though Christine was with someone else, the phantom never stopped loving her.” He said this with such intensity that Hermione almost began to tear up.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter who you’re with,” said Harry. “It’s the same.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly, and she melted against him, wishing they could all go back ten years.

“I have to go,” he said a few minutes later. “But I promise, I ‘ll be back a few more times before Ron gets home.”

“Alright,” said Hermione, dejected.

“Try not to be on your feet too much,” added Harry, grabbing his cloak.

“I know,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. “Take care.”

“You too,” he nodded, tossing some floo powder into the fireplace, and departing through the roaring green flames a moment later.

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I’m really worried that this is going to turn into something much bigger than I ever anticipated when I wrote it. Next chapter will be out within the next two weeks.

I’m glad to see more people liked the latest chapter than the first one, it means I’m improving. I actually think I know where I want to go with this story...and I think I’m digging myself into a hole here. I’m now pleading the fifth.

Enjoy!

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The subsequent days, weeks, and months passed in a haze for Harry. Time blurred together and his work was getting sloppy...especially after Ron had returned from his trip. He could no longer go over and see Hermione, or watch a movie with her, or feel the baby start to kick after she began showing. Although spending time with his three-year old son made him feel like there was nothing wrong with the world, Ginny usually ended his bliss with a complaint about one thing or another.

It was a late night at the Auror office, and Harry’s desk lamp was the only light on the floor, casting a soft, golden glow over the darkened cubicles. In the distance, Harry heard the ping of the lift, and continued with his work as a long figure stepped through the door to the offices and headed for him.

“You’re working awfully hard these days, Harry,” a soft, but deep voice said.

“I wasn’t aware that my work was special enough to merit a visit from the minister,” he quipped, with a slight smile. Kingsley grinned at him and pulled up a chair to sit down.

“Can’t a friend stop by and see how you’re doing?” he asked. “And your family.”

“We’re all fine,” nodded Harry. “How’s Teddy?”

“I haven’t been home as much as I’d like,” sighed Kingsley. After the death of Remus and Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt had adopted their newborn son, much to the surprise of some. The two were inseparable though.

“I know the feeling,” said Harry, though he wasn’t entirely commenting on Ginny and James.

“I must admit, my visit down here does have a purpose,” said Kingsley, and Harry thought he was somewhat hesitant.

“Yes?”

“A matter of national security has come up,” he said.

“What kind of ‘matter’?”

“There is an underground ring of usurpers who have been carrying out horrifying attacks lately, and not just in Great Britain,” said Kingsley, fishing in his robes for something. “Although we’re not positive, we believe this to be the leader of the organization.”

He held out a photograph and Harry’s grip on the picture tightened when he saw who it was.

“Fenrir Greyback escaped from Azkaban two months ago,” continued Kingsley. “His escape has been kept extremely quiet, since we don’t want to create a mass panic.”

“Of course,” muttered Harry, placing the picture on his desk.

“This picture was taken just outside the South Kensington train station,” said Kingsley, “We’ve been doing our best to catch him, but the International Confederation of Wizards feels that we’re slacking a bit and need to act now.”

“Standard politics,” nodded Harry.

“After a lot of careful research and some help from the Unspeakables, we believe to know the location of their headquarters,” he continued. “I want you to lead the raid.”

“Me?” asked Harry, with some skepticism. “I’ve only been working here for three years.”

“You fought against him,” Kingsley pointed out. “You know what kind of man he is, firsthand. More than that...I wanted to give you the opportunity to capture Remus’...imprisoner.”

“When would I be leaving?” asked Harry, staring at the picture of the werewolf.

“Two days,” said Kingsley. “We need to move fast before they change locations.”

“I understand,” nodded Harry. “My team?”

“Eight people of your choice,” he replied. “Five people to go along on the attack with you, two reconnaissance, and one to run point from the mobile headquarters.”

“I’ll give you my picks by tomorrow,” said Harry. “And I can choose anyone? Even if they’re out on assignment.”

“Yes, this situation has the highest priority,” nodded Kingsley. “Though I think you should refrain from choosing Ron...what with his wife being due in a few days and all.”

“Yes, of course,” nodded Harry, absent-mindedly.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You seem a bit...preoccupied.”

The truth was that Harry had been a wreck...with Hermione so close to giving birth to his first daughter, he had almost missed it when Ginny had told him a week ago that she was a couple months along with their second. He was thankful for the assignment...he needed some good field work to clear his head before he went mad.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a bit knackered.”

“Go home and get some rest,” said Kingsley. “And take tomorrow off...just owl me your choices. I want you fully rested when the operation starts.”

“Thank you, sir,” nodded Harry.

=====

Fate, however, was not planning on letting Harry rest anytime soon.

“Bloody hell,” muttered Ron, jamming in numbers on the telly while Hermione cursed at him from the background.

The ringing of the phone woke Harry from his uneasy sleep, and he fumbled around in the darkness before finally grabbing hold of the receiver.

“Hello?” he yawned.

“Mate, it’s Hermione, she’s going into labor!” exclaimed Ron. “She wants you and Ginny there if possible.”

“We’ll be right there,” said Harry, hanging up the phone.

“What’s going on?” asked Ginny sleepily.

“Hermione’s gone into labor,” replied Harry, getting out of bed and throwing on his bathrobe. “We should go...I’ll get James.”

“Do we have to?” she groaned, turning over.

“Yes,” said Harry with such finality that Ginny sat up in bed and made no further protest.

They arrived at St. Mungo’s ten minutes later and found Ron pacing back and forth in the waiting room.

“Where is she?” asked Harry as he and Ginny strode up to him.

“She’s already in the back...I just wanted to wait for you guys.”

“Why?” asked Ginny.

“I...I’m a bit uneasy about these things,” admitted Ron. “The blood and guts....yech.”

“Come on,” said Harry, striding past his friend.

“Sir, you can’t come back here,” one of the healers said, blocking him.

“Do you know who I am?” asked Harry, pushing his bangs back angrily, not caring about using his fame to get what he wanted this once.

“Oh...I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Potter, but rules are rules –”

“I don’t care about the bloody rules,” he said. “Our friend needs us.”

“Very well,” the healer said. “Go on.”

“What room is she in?” Harry asked Ron.

That question did not require an answer, however, as a moment later Hermione could be heard screaming at the top of her lungs, “Ronald Weasley get your scrawny arse in here this insant!”

The three of them quickly rushed to the source of the yell and found Hermione laying in a bed surrounded by three healers, all holding various instruments.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” she spat.

“I was waiting for Harry and Gin,” he said apologetically.

“Goddamnit all,” groaned Hermione as a contraction hit her.

“We’re just about ready to go,” one of the healers said. “Give me a big push...now!”

“We’ll wait outside,” said Ginny, taking Harry’s hand and leading him out of the room.

“Guys,” said Ron hesitantly, but they were already gone.

Outside in the waiting room, Harry was staring at Ginny, who was holding James over her shoulder.

“Why’d you pull me out of there like that?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to wake him up with her screaming,” said Ginny, sitting their son down softly in a chair. Harry admitted that she had a point. “Come on, it’s not a pretty sight anyway.”

“I suppose,” said Harry, not wanting to divulge the fact that he desperately wanted to be in there with Hermione.

They waited in silence for about fifteen minutes when Ron came walking out of the back looking a bit frazzled, but relieved.

“Everything’s alright,” he smiled, before either Harry or Ginny could say anything. “You all can come on back.”

They followed Ron back to the room where Hermione was laying in the bed cradling her daughter.

“Not bad eh,” smiled Ron.

“You are lucky the labor was so fast Ronald or I would never forgive you for your antics tonight,” said Hermione, not even looking up at him.

“You two will be the godparents, right?” asked Ron.

“Of course,” nodded Harry and Ginny.

“Right then,” smiled Ron. “I think I’m going to run down to the cafeteria to grab a bite...do you want something luv?”

“No,” said Hermione softly, still staring at her daughter.

“I’ll join you,” said Ginny. “You coming Harry?”

“I’ll stay with Hermione for a bit,” he said. “So she has some company.”

“Thanks, mate,” smiled Ron, clapping him on the back as he and Ginny left the room.

“We’ll give you a little while alone with your daughter, Mrs. Weasley, but you should really get some sleep,” said one of the healers.

“I’ll be fine,” said Hermione, smiling for the first time that evening. The healers left the room and Harry pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down.

“Thank god she doesn’t have my eyes,” he whispered, once the door had closed.

“I think she got your mother’s hair,” said Hermione. “It’s a bit darker than the Weasley brand.”

“She got my mother’s hair, and hopefully everything else from you,” smiled Harry. Rose opened her bright brown eyes and looked tiredly at Harry. “I’m never going to get this opportunity again,” he said, standing up and kissing the baby on the forehead. “I love you so very much, my daughter. Don’t even doubt that for a minute.”

“Harry,” whispered Hermione, taking his hand and giving it a light squeeze.

“I should tell you now, I took an assignment that will keep me away from here for a little while,” said Harry. “No more than a week, though.”

“It’ll probably be good to have some separation time,” nodded Hermione. “Thank you for being here for this.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said. “We’ll probably never be able to tell her, you know.”

“I know,” said Hermione, looking at the child in her arms. “But at least no matter what happens, we’ll always have her as a bond that can never be broken.”

“Never,” nodded Harry, giving Hermione a quick kiss on the lips.

---------------

I know this chapter is really short, but I couldn’t bring myself to write more with such a great ending right there. I have a fairly big decision to make on whether or not to continue this story...I know where I’d take it but I’m not sure I want to write something of that length with school around the corner. I might put this on hiatus and come back to it...not sure. Any ideas would be appreciated. Hope you liked it!

Ok, so, honestly people? I’m sick and tired of reviews saying that everyone in this story is acting out of character. Why are you people even visiting this site? Is it so that you can see everyone IN character, being in love with the people who they shouldn’t be? JKR changed EVERYONE’S characters with books 6 and 7, and only the lesser authors devoted to fanservice would revert back to the philosophy of books 1-5 (even though that’s how it should’ve been...should’ve, not IS). No, despite my ultimate dislike of how the series turned out, flat-out defiance of canon makes one...wait, what’s the word? Oh, right, there are a couple.

Militant, or delusional.

So good job making Emerson Spartz correct.

Get your heads on people. This is an adultery fic, but unlike most cases, everyone still cares about each other, even if the romance is falling apart. I’ve said that, like, three or four times in the first three chapters. Start reading what I’m writing and not what you want to see. If you can’t do that, just stop reading the story, I won’t be missing you.

/rant

Now then, if you’re NOT one of the people who feels the need to be an arrogant swath, I’m sorry for making you read that. I know that the number of people who like this story greatly outweighs the people who have been giving H/Hr shippers a bad name. You’ll be pleased to find that, true to my maxim, I refuse to abandon a story. I am, for the most part, all settled in out here at college. So, with that in mind, read on!

---------------

“Dad?”

“Yes, James?”

“Why do you and Mom fight so much?”

The question caught Harry by surprise. He had just finished a bedtime story and put the book down when this new inquiry from his four year-old son’s curious mind came forth.

“Because we don’t always agree about some things,” said Harry, which was the truth.

“Like what?” his son asked, a grin on his face showing excitement about learning life’s mysteries.

“Well, a lot of grown-up things,” said Harry. James’ smile faded immediately. “Don’t take it personally, little guy. It’s boring stuff for a smart kid like you.”

“Doesn’t mean I dun wanna hear about it,” he pouted.

“Well alright,” said Harry, leaning back. “This one time, a while ago, I was out having dinner with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron.”

“Kay.”

“I came home a little late, and your mother was upset with me because she expected me home earlier.”

“Why?” asked James, his face screwed up in confusion.

“Well, to her, I owed her a floo call at the least,” said Harry. “And, looking back, perhaps I should have, but that’s not the point.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nope,” said Harry, taking his son’s hand. “James, many, many years from now when you find someone you love, remember what I’m about to tell you.”

“Girls are yucky,” he muttered.

“That aside, hear me out,” chuckled Harry. “Trust is the most important thing. If you can’t trust the person you love, you can’t trust anyone, got it?”

“So you don’t trust anyone?”

“I do,” said Harry, and the truth was he did trust Ginny...somewhat. She was a bit unpredictable, but that was really the only thing that kept him on guard when around her. “I trust your mother, and your aunt and uncle, and you, with my life.”

“Good,” yawned James.

“It’s late, get some sleep son...I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Kay, night Dad.”

“Good night, James.”

Harry rose from the chair beside his son’s bed and left the room, closing the door on the way out.

“Everything alright?” asked Ginny, as he walked into their room.

“Yeah, I need to pack, he kept me longer than I expected.”

“He got that quality from me,” she commented with a slight smile. “How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes,” said Harry, throwing some clothes and dark detectors into his trunk. “We can’t have this guy running around loose.”

“And you still won’t tell me who it is?”

He thought about his words to James about his trust in Ginny...and the truth was she deserved to know about this.

“It’s Fenrir Greyback,” he said after a slight pause.

Ginny said nothing. Her face paled slightly and she sat down softly on their bed, looking at the floor.

“You aren’t supposed to know,” said Harry. “Don’t tell anyone...especially Ron.”

“Why?” she asked, looking up at him.

“He would’ve wanted to come,” he replied. “And with Rose...I couldn’t bring myself to take him with.”

“I understand,” she said. “Be careful, alright?”

“You know what a cautious fellow I am,” smiled Harry, tossing a silver revolver and a case of silver bullets into his trunk.

=====

Hermione sat at the darkened window next to her daughter’s crib and watched as large drops of rain hit the window in a steady rhythm. Her mind kept wandering back to the night she and Harry had shared…the result of that night laying asleep a few feet beside her. A loud snore from the adjacent room startled her from her reverie, and she shook her head at the noise her husband was making. Sighing, she thought back to the night Rose was born.

“I want you to know who I’m going after,” said Harry, looking at her softly.

“You’re not supposed to tell me this,” argued Hermione, though it wasn’t a convincing argument by any stretch of the imagination.

“It’s Greyback,” said Harry. “He’s escaped.”

Hermione didn’t say anything for a few moments. She looked down at her daughter who had her eyes closed and was sucking lazily on her thumb.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“I can’t really promise anything,” sighed Harry. “I’m a bit nervous about this whole thing, to be honest.”

“Your first big assignment?” Harry nodded. “Three years and you get your first big one…seems a bit long, doesn’t it?”

“Aurors don’t usually start leading raids until at least their fifth year,” said Harry. “This was a special request from Kingsley himself.”

“Make sure you come back,” said Hermione, the way a mother would tell her children to be back inside the house before dark.

“Yes ma’am,” grinned Harry, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

‘He should have left hours ago,’ thought Hermione, still staring out the window. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and illuminated the pavement below. The outline of a familiar cloaked figure flashed before her eyes, but she blinked and a moment later the person was gone.

=====

Rain poured down on Harry and his aurors as they waited patiently behind a rusted chain link fence. A small, run-down warehouse was a few hundred meters ahead of them, the orange flickering of a controlled fire emanating from the windows.

“Do we have anything yet?” asked Harry, speaking into a small transmitter in the collar of his cloak.

“Nothing,” came the response. Harry glanced up and to his left where he had a man on the roof of the building next to them. “I’ve spotted guards patrolling the outside, and two or three men on the inside, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.”

“Bloody rain,” muttered Harry.

“Wait…I see something,” another voice said. “One of them is lowering their hood…it’s Greyback, he’s in there.”

“Alright guys, light ‘em up,” said Harry, turning to the four aurors behind him. “Wedge formation, eight meters apart.”

“Yes sir.”

“HQ and recon, we are a go,” said Harry, lifting up the bottom of the fence and crawling under it, followed by his men. “We are authorized to use lethal force if necessary, but only if necessary.”

“Roger that,” the others responded.

“Go.”

Stunners flew as they charged the building, shouts and grunts came from the guards as they fell one by one.

“They heard you,” one of the recon’s said over the transmitter as the strike team reached the entrance and began breaking through the metal door. “They’re lifting up the floorboards…there’s an underground passage, they’re escaping.”

“Damnit,” said Harry. “Why didn’t anyone pick this up?”

“It wasn’t –” There was static over the radio and suddenly it went dead.

“Murphy?” asked Harry, as they finally forced the door open and blasts of green light came flying at them. “Shite!”

Harry ducked and pressed himself up against the outside wall as one of his team was blasted back out the door and into the darkness.

“Dotson!” yelled one of the aurors.

“Keep your head on!” bellowed Harry, tapping a rock with his wand and muttering a complex spell. He tossed the rock into the building and it exploded in a shower of smoke, giving them enough cover to get inside.

“There’s no one here!” yelled one of the aurors.

“Mirrors!” yelled Harry as the smoke began to clear.

Green and red spells flew everywhere, shattering the mirrors, and when the dust settled another of Harry’s team was lying lifeless on the floor.

“Son of a bitch,” said Harry, leaning over him.

“They must have known we were coming,” said one of the aurors. “There must have been a leak.”

“I handpicked everyone on this team, Jacobs,” said Harry. “There’s no leak.”

“Then how do you explain this?” the other asked, coming over to him.

“Greyback is experienced,” said Harry. “He knows how to defend himself.”

“So what now?”

“We go after them,” said Harry, standing up and walking cautiously over to the hole leading into the ground. “Damned if I let this bastard get away.”

“We don’t have info on the sewer system in the area,” said a voice over the transmitter.

“Why did I even bother putting you in an armchair, then?” asked Harry, climbing down the hole. “Get the info.”

“Yes, sir...you should also know that Murphy and Simmons are dead.”

“How?” asked Harry. No response came. They reached the bottom and found themselves on a walkway that ran alongside a large underground waterway. “Craig?”

“Craig is dead,” came a voice from behind them.

The three aurors spun but it was too late – strong anti-magic ropes bound them and they fell to the ground as Greyback and four of his henchmen emerged from the darkness.

“Everyone on your team is dead,” smiled the werewolf. “It was too easy.”

“Bastard,” spat Harry. Greyback laughed.

“What about you two, eh?” he asked, looking at the other two men lying next to Harry. “How about it? Join me and I’ll spare your lives…I’d make that offer to Potter but I know he’s too proud.”

“Go to hell,” one of them spat.

“After you,” sneered Greyback, pulling out a long knife and slitting the man’s throat. Two of his henchmen picked up the body and threw it over the rail into the water. “How about you?”

“Greyback you little –” started Harry, but was cut off.

“I’ll join you,” the other auror said quickly. “I’m sorry, Harry…I have a family to support.”

“How nice,” said Greyback, snapping his fingers. The ropes binding the auror fell limply to the ground and he got up, backing away from Harry quickly. “Tell me…you turn against Potter at the slightest touch…what’s going to keep you from turning against me if you needed to?”

“W-what?” the other auror asked, but it was to no avail. The knife came down fast and he, too, went over the rail into the water.

“Just you and me now, Potter,” said Greyback, squatting down over Harry. “I bet you’re wondering how everything went so wrong?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” spat Harry.

“I was following you long before the Ministry got a bead on me,” said Greyback. “There was no inside help…I just watched you until I had all the information I needed, then I let my location slip. I knew you were coming here long before you arrived.”

“Well done,” smiled Harry sarcastically.

“I know something else about you, too,” grinned Greyback, leaning down so close to Harry’s face that Harry could smell the stench of rotting corpses on the werewolf’s breath. “I know about your new family.”

“What?” breathed Harry, eyes wide.

“That’s right…I know all about your tryst with your best friend’s wife…that hospital room had windows, after all.”

“So what now?” asked Harry, looking at him.

“Now I’m going to kill you,” smiled Greyback. “And then let slip to the Daily Prophet your little secret…imagine what that will do to everyone you leave behind?”

A burst of magic suddenly came from Harry, tearing the ropes and throwing Greyback off him.

“Accio wand!” yelled Harry. His wand flew into his outstretched hand and he spun around, firing off spells at the disoriented men. Three of them instantly fell and Greyback and the other turned to flee. “Get back here!”

“Not today, Potter!” laughed Greyback. “This isn’t over yet!” Harry vaguely saw him transform into a werewolf before flying down the walkway out of sight. Harry dispatched the last man and stood there by himself, panting heavily.

=====

Three hours later, back at the Ministry, Harry sat before Kingsley and Kingsley’s successor as the Head of the Auror Divison, Marcus Jameson.

“And that’s what happened,” said Harry. “He had been watching me the entire time…he knew we were coming, and he can change into a werewolf whenever he wants now.”

“This is a bad situation,” said Jameson. “We may have to address the public soon, Minister.”

“Yes, it may have come to that,” nodded Kingsley. “Alright, Harry…go home, get some rest. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

“Yes sir,” nodded Harry. He quickly strode out of the office and down the corridor. He didn’t blink as he passed the series of fireplaces that allowed quick and easy exit from the Ministry. Reaching the all-too-familiar telephone booth, he stepped in and ascended to the pavement above.

The rain poured down on him from all directions as he walked in a random direction, not caring where he was going. He walked for a good twenty minutes before stopping, and looking up at the street sign.

“Damnit,” he muttered under his breath, as he stepped forward towards Hermione and Ron’s apartment. He reached the steps but didn’t climb them, instead opting to stand and look at the door he knew he couldn’t enter. Looking up, he thought he could see Hermione’s outline in the window looking down at him. Deciding it would be best if he didn’t linger, he turned on the spot and apparated away.

---------------

One last note. Guys, think about this rationally for a second. In books 1 through 5, we saw undisputed love between Harry and Hermione. Ginny and Ron weren’t really in the picture and it was obvious how the characters felt.

But then JKR decided to let teenage hormones come into play, and everything went to hell.

The moral of this author’s note is that people change. They have to, inevitably, because living dictates it. The change from teenager to adult is even greater than the change from child to adolescent because of the wisdom most people gain.

Most psychiatrists will tell you that the teenage phase is the most unpredictable, the most irrational, and the most hormonal of all the ‘stages of life’. Since JKR decided to put our heroes (and heroines) through that phase, instead of moving them straight from child to adult like we all THOUGHT she was doing (although Harry started to show that ‘moody teenager’ in book 5), another change in their behavior has to take place. So despite the people who think I’m writing characters OOC, you’ll find that the change they’ve gone through over the years is very much in character, and writing them as the pubescent teenagers they were in 6 and 7 would be denying canon ever happened. And although I’m delusional in the fact that H/Hr are meant for each other, I’m NOT delusional in the way that Emerson Spartz said I was.

/public service announcement.

Oh, and I paid my respects to a great movie in this chapter…points for anyone who can tell me what it was.

Until next time!