Author's Notes: Haha, I really need to set myself a deadline. That way, I can actually update on that day.
Now, I'm wondering if I should write a series of events that happened during H/Hr's absence. I think I'm going to do it, mainly because I do feel that you should know what events you missed (Andrew's birth, the two leaving England, their marriage, etc.). Well, as soon as I finish this story-which'll be about, oh, I dunno, 8 chapters?-I'll start that. (Just thought you ought to know.)
Enjoy!
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August 28th, 2001 …
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"I'll just be back," said Harry, moving aside so Hermione could take hold of the stroller. "I need to go to the bathroom."
She nodded, giving his hand a soft squeeze, and watched him look for the restroom. Pushing on the stroller, she looked around for someone she could perhaps converse with or grab a bite to eat. She hadn't eaten since lunch-about a half hour before the funeral began-and she was starting to get hungry. And besides, Andrew would probably want something to eat, too.
Once at the table, she saw a few things her child could eat: a few fruits, vegetables, even some cheeses and rice. After making sure that Andrew was, indeed, awake, she took a small bowl and took a strawberry, a celery stick, a slice of Swiss cheese, and a small spoon of seasoned rice. She was thankful that he had most of his teeth already, because she hadn't bought baby food since they were in America.
Hunkering down to her child's height, she placed it on his dinner tray (something she was glad that came with the stroller) and kissed his cheek softly, standing up. Immediately, Andrew stuffed his hands into the rice and began eating, giggling as he saw his dirty hands. Grabbing her own small plate of food, she took a spoon and started eating, keeping an eye on her son.
"Granger?" asked someone, walking towards Hermione. She didn't pay any heed. "Hermione!" the girl said louder.
Hermione looked up, and saw one of her younger cousins, Eliza. Though she was only seventeen, she acted as though she was twenty-three, mostly by telling everyone that she `was an adult and could do everything they could.' She was always ignoring her, and Hermione wondered why she was suddenly being approached by her. Maybe she wanted money. Smiling softly, she answered, "Yes?"
"You didn't answer when I called you Granger," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Nonchalantly, she shrugged and answered, "I usually don't. I'm Hermione Potter, now."
Her eyes widened. "That dashing man that you were with was your husband?" she asked. "No way," she shook her head.
She smiled. "He is rather handsome, isn't he?" she asked almost dreamily.
She inwardly groaned. "So, I reckon this is your son?" she asked, pointing to Andrew, who was having a fun time eating his cheese.
"Yes," she answered. "Andrew Harry Potter, our son." She smiled fondly.
She nodded. "Well… I best be going," she said after a while. "See you, Granger-I mean, Potter."
"Bye," she said softly, picking up a few various types of cheeses and putting it in Andrew's bowl. Immediately abandoning his strawberry, he picked up the cheese and started eating.
Not even a minute later did Harry come back, muttering things such as "not enough restrooms," "funny smelling soap," and "if Hermione was in there, she'd have a heart attack." Putting on a smile, he slung his arm over Hermione's shoulder and stole a piece of cheese from her plate. "What'd I miss?" he asked.
She shook her head, leaning against him. "Nothing, love." She sighed, and forcefully reminded herself that she was not going to cry. "I just miss him, is all." She tried to muster up a smile, but it didn't come.
Harry nodded, giving her forehead a soft kiss. "I know, and I do too. You've known him since day one, and I know it's hard losing loved ones." He smiled, giving his attempt at humour: "Trust me, I know how it feels."
"It's not funny, Harry," she mumbled, shrugging off his shoulder. "I know you've lost numerous loved ones: your parents, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, but it still hurts," she said, furrowing her eyebrows and looking on top of Andrew's head.
Harry knew what she meant. Gathering her into his arms, for once glad that she didn't return the hug, he murmured, "Its tough, Hermione. I know it is, and we'll get through it, with each other. We will, don't worry."
She nodded, her arms limp by her side. Slowly, she returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze before letting him go. "Let me introduce you to my family," she said, giving her plate to Harry so he could grab his own helping of food. A few moments later, Andrew, whose face and hands were being cleaned by his mother, and Harry, who, just as his son, was having a nice time eating the various styles of cheeses and seasoned rice, were ready to see the rest of the Granger family.
The atmosphere was relatively quiet, with the exception of the children, who were all running around and playing, oblivious to the death of Mister Granger. Andrew giggled, biting his index finger, "Uh oh!" he squealed, seeing the young girl throw a ball at a small boy and missing him by half a meter.
Hermione, seeing her uncle, walked over towards him and introduced Harry and Andrew. "Uncle Earl?" she wondered, raising a thin eyebrow. "Have you heard a word I've said?" she asked.
The middle-aged man blinked, turning to Hermione. "Oh, Hermione my dear, how are you?" he asked softly. "I'm sorry, I was just… thinking."
"Understandable," she murmured, nodding.
He nodded, giving a soft smile. "Now, who was this `Harry' and `Andrew?'" he questioned. "It can't be this dashing young lad and this adorable child," he smiled.
Hermione and Harry both blushed. "Actually, Harry is my husband," she explained, and then she pointed to Andrew, who was busy entertaining himself. "And this is our son, Andrew."
He looked genuinely surprised. "Oh? I never received the news, that or of Andrew's birth," he said, frowning slightly.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking downwards. "Harry and I were in the States, and, well-it's hard to explain."
He nodded, and finally addressed Harry. "Harry, nice to finally meet you," he said, shaking Harry's hand.
"Same to you," he returned, smiling and trying to look decent with the plate of food still in his other hand. Quickly putting it on top of Andrew's stroller, he straightened out his black shirt and tie, fixing his glasses after. "I'm Harry Potter-" he tried to introduce himself, but his in-law had already beaten him to it.
"Ahh yes, Harry Potter," he nodded. "I know about you. Whenever she visited for the holidays, she was always talking about a boy named `Harry Potter,' and this one boy I don't remember very well… Rual? Ronald?" He shook his head, "It doesn't matter. I'm just pleasantly surprised you married him. Good match, you are," he complimented.
"Thank you," they murmured in unison, both blushing.
He nodded. "Well, Harry Potter, I suppose it'd only be right if I introduced myself. I'm Earl Granger, younger brother of Hermione's father, here. I'm married to a wonderful woman, and those two children playing with the ball over there are my children."
Harry nodded, taking the information in. "It's good to meet you, err, Mister Granger."
"Well, Uncle Earl, we'll be in touch for the next few days," Hermione spoke up after a few moments. "Andrew needs a change," she informed him. "We'll see you later?"
"See you then," he said, shaking Harry's hand again and pulling Hermione in for a hug. "Oh!" he said surprised, pulling back. "Are you expecting?" he questioned.
She nodded, blushing. "Yes," she answered softly. "I'm going on four months," she told him.
"How wonderful," he said, genuinely happy for his niece. "Well, I'll just need your number, and you three can be on your way." She nodded, looking in her purse for a piece of paper and pencil. Meanwhile, he asked, "How is Celine doing? It's been a few days since I've seen her."
"Mum's doing… well, after Dad's death, she's… she's coping," she said softly, handing him the small post it note. "This is my mobile, with the `Hr' next to it, and Harry's is the one with the `H' next to it. Just give us a ring anytime," she told him, dropping them back into her purse. "Well, we'll be going now. Bye, Uncle."
"Bye," he murmured, watching the family walk away without talking to anyone else. She's a good girl, he thought.
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"Andrew's birthday is coming up," Hermione murmured, lying on the bed, nearly on top of her husband.
"That it is," he said, running his hand up and down Hermione's bare thigh lightly.
"Are we going to get him anything? This is a big day for our son." She looked into his eyes, rolling on to her back. "And what about Matt? We need a portkey to bring him in, and I don't know how you're going to be able to get one from the Ministry at this rate."
Harry shrugged, sitting up and pulling the covers up so it covered their bare bodies. "I can probably just… I don't know, make the portkey so that it travels back to the States. I mean, it doesn't take a lot of work, does it? The Ministry does it all the time, and they only reason they do do it, is so they can keep track of who is going where." He shrugged again, settling himself in his usual position: his hand falling gently on his wife's abdomen, his head resting on the slope of her bare breast. "No big deal, sweetheart. If you could teach me University level math in just a few days, then it shouldn't be a hassle making a portkey to Palo Alto."
"Okay, then," she murmured, slowly falling asleep. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight," he murmured, giving her breast a soft kiss before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
The next day, while Harry was giving Andrew a bath, Hermione was dressing for the day. While putting on her shirt, Harry and Andrew emerged, father holding his wet son-who was wrapped in a soft green oversized towel-in his arms. "C'mon Andrew, you don't want to see your Mummy without a shirt, do you?" He shook his head, and Andrew imitated his actions, smiling while he shook his head. "No, I didn't think so." Grinning, Harry left to go to Andrew's room.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione left the bedroom, silently chuckling at her husband and child's antics. While making a simple breakfast for her family, she thought about last night, and what they were going to do in the near future. They were going to see her mother today, that was a positive fact, but she wasn't sure what they were going to do after that. Andrew's birthday was arriving soon, and the time was quickly approaching that she wouldn't be able to board the plane back to America. She certainly didn't want to stay until their second child's birth, but she didn't want to leave so soon, either. Perhaps a few more weeks, but nothing more, she thought.
But then there was the whole ordeal with the press and the Weasleys. She wondered if she should tell the truth, by means of pensive memories, or just leave it all behind and move on with their life in the United States. She was torn on two difficult decisions; on one hand, she yearned for the English Wizarding World to know the truth, but she knew that the Weasleys' reputation would probably plummet, even worse than theirs had. But they deserved it, she thought, putting their breakfast into three bowls, putting less in one.
Then there was the decision that they would just leave it all, again, and move back to the States. It was their original plan, and so far, they were sticking to it. She knew that they were definitely going back, but she just didn't know when. After they tell the press? Before? She sighed. She had no idea what she was thinking.
"Mumma!" shouted someone, crawling his way towards his mother.
He's crawling, she instantly noted while picking up Andrew and giving him a firm kiss to the cheek. Harry came in less than a second later, his hair messy, and glasses askew. "I never knew how fast of a crawler Andrew was," he said, shaking his head slightly. "God, he hasn't crawled since he learned how to walk, and now he had the sudden urge to start speed crawling?" He chuckled. "He's a Potter, that's for sure. We Potters need a change every now and then."
"Don't I know it," she muttered playfully. "I'm glad parenting is keeping your mind off things," Hermione murmured, pulling Harry in for a kiss.
"It is," he murmured back, holding her close, keeping in mind that their nearly one-year-old son was watching them with a mix of delight and confusion. "Try playing with him for even a few hours, and your mind'll be clear from everything except this child."
She smiled, "I know, love. I know. It's just…" sighing softly, she shrugged. "I don't know anything right now, Harry. I just… I don't know anymore. There are just so many emotions running through me right now that I don't know what to feel anymore."
He nodded, "It happens, trust me. I've had enough mood swings and periods of confusion that I'd put an infant and pregnant woman to shame."
"Don't tell me you're trying your attempt at humour again," she mumbled, letting Andrew down and letting him crawl to the living room and wait for his food. "Because it's not working."
"I'm sorry," he said, giving her another soft, sweet kiss. "Even `till this day, I'm not good with girls and emotions, even though I happened to be married to a pregnant one."
"Don't I know it," she retorted, turning around and picking the three bowls up and walking into the living room. Putting two on the table, she handed Andrew his and immediately he started digging his hands into the brown-sugared oatmeal. Sitting on the armchair, she took her bowl of cereal, and shouted, "Harry, will you get two spoons?"
A few short moments later, Harry emerged from the kitchen, holding two spoons. Sitting down on the floor, he took his bowl and started eating. The family ate in silence (save Andrew, who occasionally giggled when he saw some milk drip from Hermione's spoon) for a while, and after a while Hermione finally broke the silence.
"Today," she said softly, "we need to go out. First, we need to see my mother, and then we need to go shopping for groceries."
"All right," he told her, putting his empty bowl on the table. "We can leave soon," he continued, plucking the empty bowl from Andrew and picking him up, standing up after. "Just let me clean Andrew, and we'll be on our way."
Gathering the three empty bowls into her hands once more, she said, "all right," before heading back into the kitchen.
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"Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it," Misses Granger whispered, stroking her daughter's hair. She was holding Hermione's hand, the other stroking her daughter's face as it lay on the hospital bed. They'd been there for a few minutes already, Harry sitting on the edge of his mother-in-law's bed, with Andrew sitting silently on his lap. "I wasn't feeling well, and I just didn't have the energy to leave the bed."
"It's okay, Mum," she murmured, lifting her head up. "I knew you wouldn't be able to make it," she continued. "Everyone was wondering why you two had suddenly gone sick at the same time, but I didn't really know the answer."
She nodded, squeezing her hand. "I thought I'd already told you, but I guess I haven't. Well, after Andrew's birth, your father and I went back to England. The winter that year was a bad one, and your father and I were working overtime for much of the season, and our immune systems aren't as strong as they used to be. Harry, you, obviously should know about that. And, well, his heart became weaker than it already was, and I had a cold, which then turned into the pneumonia. And… here I am today."
"Oh," she responded softly. "Why didn't you take any medicine, Mum? Why hadn't Dad gone to the hospital, maybe gotten a surgery, or - or, or do something. You've been in the hospital for weeks now, and Dad's already gone! Why can't anyone do any fucking thing about this fucking situation?!" she cried, emotions getting the better of her. Tears started streaming down her face, and Harry quickly put Andrew in his stroller and went closer to Hermione. Misses Granger laid there, knowing that she wasn't able to do anything for her daughter, so she saw her son-in-law gather her daughter into her arms and letting her cry on him. She knew, from experience, that her emotions were being overworked.
"Shh, love," Harry murmured, rubbing her back.
She wrapped her arms around Harry, burying her face in his neck, letting the tears consume her. "It's not fair," she said, her voice muffled by her sobs and her husband's neck. "If they would've just done something before, then perhaps all of this wouldn't have happened."
"I know, but we can't do anything right now," he murmured. "Sweetheart, please, you still have your mother here. Be glad, I certainly am."
She nodded feebly against his neck. Slowly, her sobs started slowing down and eventually she started hiccupping, still sitting on Harry's lap. She pulled away from him, though she kept her arms wrapped around his neck. She turned slightly to see Andrew looking with a confused yet knowing face, and then looked to her Mother, who had the smallest of smiles.
"I'm sorry, Mum," she said, wiping her cheeks and most of her makeup away. "I've just kept these feelings bottled up for so long now, that they've finally let go."
She nodded. "I know exactly how you feel, love. I was just like that when my parents died, too."
Standing up, she picked up Andrew and set him on the floor. He was quickly picked up by Harry, who then sat on the edge of the bed again, trying his best not to wince at the feeling of the large wet spot on his shirt. Times like this I wish I could do magic, he thought, bouncing Andrew slightly on his knee, watching Hermione and her Mother converse a bit more. I just wish it wouldn't interfere with the electricity around here. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen if he did use magic, and the electricity went out in the building. People's lives could be at stake, and some could even die within minutes, if they were on a ventilator.
"Papa," murmured Andrew, twisting and turning his body so he could see the large wet spot on Harry's shirt. "Uh oh," he giggled, covering his mouth with his hands.
Harry's eyes widened, feeling a part of his thigh get warmer. "Oh hell," Harry muttered, picking him up and lifting him until he was level with his son. Oh yeah, just what I thought it was. He scrunched up his nose, quickly turning Andrew around and holding him close to his chest with one arm. "Hermione, I'm going to go, uh, change Andrew," he told her, taking the baby bag.
She nodded, and he left.
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Hermione chuckled, now in a much better mood than before. After Harry and Andrew had left, she said that it was time they had a `girl talk.' When she was younger, they'd never really conversed that had anything to do with boys, sex, or drugs. She'd never received `the talk,' but Misses Granger knew that Hermione would find out on her own. She never talked to her daughter about boys, knowing she wasn't interested in any, and shouldn't be until she was old enough, or at least in college.
Moments before the two male Potters came back, they were comparing who was lazier: Harry, or her father. It was a good thing, Hermione thought, that they were finally able to converse about things so soon after her father's death. She never thought she'd be able to get over it, but now her mother was talking to her as if they were teenagers again, while she was in the hospital? It was too good to be true.
"I am not lazy," Harry retorted softly, keeping in mind that Andrew had started to get drowsy and soon fell asleep. "I get my own water and everything!"
"That's the exact same thing Jeff would say," Misses Granger said, smiling. "But then a few minutes later he'd get angry because he wouldn't be able to find his trainers, so he'd wear his sandals with his socks. Quite funny, it was."
Hermione smiled, and Harry chuckled softly.
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, each listening to the youngest Potter's soft breathing. Andrew's seat was reclined, his body slightly shadowed by the cover on top of his seat. His trainers still, as his small hand was resting against his cheek, his eyes closed in contentment.
"So, have you visited your old school yet?" her mother asked later, closing her eyes.
Hermione blinked. She hadn't even thought about it. "N-no, not really," answered she, a bit shaky. Why hadn't she thought about it before? Perhaps because everything that's been going on, she thought.
"Perhaps we'll go later," continued Harry, sitting in a chair, leaning back. "Andrew's birthday is coming up, and things would get too hectic."
She nodded sleepily.
"Harry, Mum's getting tired," Hermione stated the obvious. "Why don't we go? Mum needs her sleep."
Nodding, Harry stood up and started to stretch. Keeping his legs straight, he bent down and wrapped his arms around his thighs, touching his nose to his knees for a few seconds before letting go and stretching his arms. These chairs aren't comfortable at all, even if it has been for an hour, he thought, scratching the back of his neck.
"Ready?" Hermione asked, waiting patiently for her husband. He nodded. Smiling, she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her mother's forehead. "See you later, Mum," she whispered.
Walking towards his mother-in-law, he smiled, giving her cheek a soft kiss. "Bye."
"Bye, children," she murmured, slowly falling into her slumber.
Quietly, the Potter family left.
While they were in the car driving to the grocery store, Hermione thought about what her mother and Harry had said. She hadn't thought about visiting Hogwarts-it hadn't even crossed her mind-at all. Her main purpose for even returning to England was because of her parents, not because she wanted to see anyone else. She would've been quite content to leave without telling them. I sound so cowardly, she thought, resting her head on the back of the seat.
Perhaps McGonagall was the new Headmistress of the school, Hermione mused. Since Snape had died, there wasn't anyone else that really qualified for the job. Even though she disliked Snape with a passion, remembering that he was dead hurt. Even after time, it hurt. But when she remembered Snape, she remembered everyone else, too. All of the casualties of the war: Fred, Mad Eye, Remus, Tonks, and so many more. She bit her lip, looking down. She willed herself not to cry, though she knew she could blame it on her pregnancy.
"Are you okay, love?" Harry asked, having seen her from the mirror. "Do you want me to pull over?"
"I'm all right," she told him, blinking away the tears. "We'll be there in a few minutes, right?"
"Yep," he answered, though he knew that she wasn't fully all right. He'd question her at the store, he decided.
Slowly, minutes disappeared and soon Harry pulled up into the lot. Having calmed down, she took a deep breath and started to softly caress her son's cheek. He slowly woke up, though he frowned when he was fully awake. "Mumma," he murmured, his tips twitching, as if he were about to cry.
"Shh sweetheart," she whispered, undoing his buckles. "I know you don't like to be awoken, but don't cry, baby." Taking him from his car seat, she set him on her lap for a minute, before the door opened and Harry's head showed.
He raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"
Handing him his son, she nodded. Quickly grabbing her purse, she got out of the car and shut the door. They joined hands after he buckled him into his plush stroller, and they went inside the store. They went towards the vegetable section first, getting various veggies.
"Hermione, are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked, opting to hold the stroller bar instead. "You looked like you were about to cry."
"I was," she answered quietly, knowing she could never lie to Harry. "I was just thinking about everyone from Hogwarts… from the war. It… it still hurts," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and upper body. "It hurts for me, too."
Pulling away, she muttered, "People are watching." Grabbing a few carrots, broccoli, and celery, they went towards the food section.
"Are we going to see McGonagall?" Harry asked, taking a little box of strawberries and putting it in the shopping cart.
She nodded, taking a few bananas and putting them in a bag before tying it and putting it in the cart. She knew he was aware that she wasn't talking, and that she clearly wanted to say something, but wouldn't. He knows me too well, she thought, picking up some milk for them. They finished their shopping fairly quickly, most likely because Andrew was busy lying down, staring at the black and red stripes on the underside of the pullover over his seat. As they put the groceries back in the car, there was only one thought roaming Hermione's mind.
We need to see McGonagall.
Author's Notes: Well, that was rather pointless, aye? Well, whatever. I'm moving soon, so I seriously have like no idea when I'll update. I'm still opting for Friday or the next Friday, but I'm not too sure.
Ooh, so how about, Saturday is my birthday on the Indian calendar? Isn't that insane?! But anyway, that doesn't really matter, does it? But it's still awesome.
So, what'd you think?
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