Author's Notes: Wow this chapter is… I don't even know what to say.
Anyway… Enjoy!!!!
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August 31st, 2001 …
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Andrew giggled happily as Hermione placed a few toys in the shopping cart. He snuggled close to his blanket-the one Harry had gotten him from Diagon Alley-and looked all around himself. Harry chuckled, loving to see his child happy. This morning, he hadn't stopped crying (he guessed he didn't have a nice sleep) and fussed over everything. But when they arrived at the store, he'd quieted down and started smiling again, something that made his parents extremely happy.
He pushed the cart through the various aisles, stopping when Hermione looked at the toys (and read the hazardous warnings). She shook her head and turned, muttering words he couldn't hear. They went through the same procedure a few more times, but now with the occasional giggling when Andrew found something especially endearing.
While passing through the aisle with things for baby care, Harry's cell rung. "Hello?" he answered, knowing already who it was.
"I…" There was a small pause. "I proposed." The words hadn't come out more than a whisper, but Harry heard him loud and clear. "And guess what she said!"
"No?" he teased, still pushing the cart with one hand while trying to follow Hermione.
"Yeah!"
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.
"No!"
Harry blinked. "Wait, what?"
He heard Matt sigh. "She. Said. No."
Harry's eyes widened. "Why?" he questioned, stilling the cart for a moment. Seeing Hermione's questioning look, he mouthed, `Matt,' and she nodded, turning around once more and looking at the various things. "I mean, I thought you two were strong?"
"We've only been dating for a few months," he told Harry. "And apparently she thinks that it's too soon. If I'd waited a bit longer, she surely would've said yes. We're `too young,' still `immature,' we're only in college," he muttered. "Those are only few of the things she said." There was a sigh heard, and his voice seemed much softer than it usually was. "I mean, you and Hermione got married in your freshman year, why couldn't we in our senior?"
"Look, mate," placated Harry, "people are different. Hermione and I are mentally older than most of the University students at Stanford. Even some of the ones that are getting their Masters, we're still … I don't know, more matured." He sighed, stopping the cart since Hermione stopped moving, looked at the soft, curly, messy mop his son had as hair. "We've seen things you wouldn't imagine of, and we've lived through a war. Hell, I even-" He shook his head. "Never mind that, but the point is-"
"We're not getting married," he repeated, his tone mournful.
He shook his head out of habit. "No, you're not. Listen; just propose when you feel as though she's ready, okay? Perhaps when you've been dating for at least a year, not just a few months," he advised.
"Okay, thanks, man. I really appreciate the help from a married man."
He chuckled, which Andrew reacted by giggling. "No problem."
"I see the junior is happy? How's the Misses?" asked Matt.
"Err… We're fine." He saw Hermione looking impatiently at him, nearly all the way down the aisle, whereas he was only at the beginning of it. "Listen, I have to go. Hermione's looking a bit frustrated." He suddenly remembered about Matt's visit for Andrew's birthday. "Oh, I almost forgot. You're going to be here for the night and day, so tomorrow at about eleven in the morning, be ready. I'll be arriving by portkey, so you'll only have a few minutes to make sure you're completely ready before we portkey back to London."
"Okay. Eleven AM, tomorrow. Got it," he repeated, affirming. "Well, I'll talk to you later. I don't want to die in the hands of Hermione, the second I arrive."
He chuckled, pushing the cart, smiling hesitantly at his wife before telling Matt, "You and me both. Bye." He hung up his phone, put it back in his pocket, and followed Hermione once more.
"Are you finished?" she asked, her tone a bit hostile.
He nodded. "Yes, dear."
Smiling, she turned and walked ahead, not looking back.
Harry looked at his son. Andrew merely giggled softly, clutching his blanket.
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Before they left the baby shop, they remembered that they were in need of wrapping paper, if they were going to give their son proper presents. They bought some nice coloured wrapping paper, knowing they could use it for something or another at a later time. Andrew had fallen asleep on the way back, but Harry and Hermione were quite awake.
While he drove, Hermione was in deep thought. The thought of revealing the truth seemed nice, but then they'd be in the limelight once more. And then there was the fact that they had to organize it, one way or another. Just because it was only she and Harry, didn't mean there weren't other things to worry about. Their child and unborn child were an issue, too. Andrew was still much too young to understand anything, so he would get frightened by everything. And they had to consider their unborn child, too.
She shook her head. "Harry, have you thought about the Weasleys lately?" she asked hesitantly, wondering how to broach her dilemma.
"I've been sort of preoccupied other things for the past few days," he answered. "Why?" He sighed softly, stopping because of the traffic. Looks like we'll be here a short while, he concluded, looking around.
"Because I've been wondering about setting things straight," she told him softly. "We'd probably be in the spotlight again, but at least the truth would be out. If the people choose not to believe it, then that's their choice." She sighed softly, shaking her head. "Never mind, Harry. It was a horrible idea."
"No it wasn't," he said, looking at her for the briefest moments. "I think it's a wonderful idea-just like all of your other ideas-but, there's only one problem." He saw her raise an eyebrow from the mirror. "The Ministry," he answered her unasked question. "Love, the ministry hasn't been on best terms with me. They did this with McGonagall and Flitwick because they were trying to defend us, and look where it got them: nowhere. I guess that was just revenge for fifth and seven year," he explained, shrugging, moving slowly with traffic. "Just imagine what it'd be like with you and I, Harry and Hermione Potter."
"They still think I'm Hermione Granger," she mumbled, though there was no point. Her eyes lit up with a new idea. "But Harry, what if we didn't have to make a public announcement? What if we told the papers! Surely everyone would know by the next day!"
Harry thought for a moment, smiling brightly the next. "I knew there was a reason I married you," he said playfully, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from his wife. "The last time we were there, it was as if they were pulling teeth to get information out of us! Perhaps we could use it to our advantage; tell people about the truth."
"But what about Andrew?" she asked, giving a sidelong glace to her slumbering son. "We definitely can't have him there," she explained.
"What about Andromeda Tonks?" he suggested, taking their exit. "She said we should visit once before Andrew's birthday, and since his birthday is just two days away, I thought he could stay and play with Teddy for a few hours while the press has a little `meeting' with us."
"Today? But Harry, don't you think this is a bit recent? Usually people would cringe if a suggestion such as this was casually thrown in, but you seem as though it's nothing."
"Hermione, think about it: if they know what happened sooner, the better. I know we have a million plus three things to do, but that doesn't mean we can add something here or there." He paused for a few moments, making a U-turn and heading into the lot of the complex. "But, I suppose if you want to hold off, then we can wait until his birthday is over."
She thought about it for a moment. "No… I don't want to hold it off for a long time. Since Mum is starting to feel better, I don't really want to wait too long to go back to America."
"I sort of want to put her in a nursing home," murmured Harry, waiting for the door of the large garage to open. "I mean, at least she'd have someone taking care of her at all times."
"I suppose," she said. "But let's not get too far from the subject. What are we going to do?"
"I thought we've already established this?" he asked, turning off the car and turning around. "We can go whenever you want; when Matt arrives, today, or even next week. It doesn't matter, love."
She nodded. "We'll talk about this at home, okay? I don't want Andrew's neck to hurt when he wakes up," she said, lifting her son's head and softly rubbing his cheek. He stirred a bit, but didn't awake fully.
Harry got out of the car and went to the back seat, right next to his car seat. He started unbuckling him as Hermione slowly woke him up. "C'mon little guy," whispered Harry, "wake up."
Andrew groaned, rubbing his eyes. He blinked several times before looking around. Eyes settling on the one's of his mother, he held out his arms. Hermione sighed, wishing she could hold him, but knew she couldn't because she was pregnant. "Harry, please take him."
He nodded, giving Andrew's forehead a soft kiss before taking him on his lap. He curled against his torso and held on to his shirt, giving a soft sigh of, "Papa."
"We've been out for so many hours," said Hermione, closing her eyes for a moment, "he's so tired."
He nodded, holding Andrew close to him and getting out of the car. "Should we get the things right now, or later?" asked Harry, adjusting Andrew a bit so he was more comfortable.
"Now," she answered. Opening the back of the car, she silently cursed as she saw the amount of bags they had. There weren't too many, but enough that would require both her and Harry to get them in one shot. Perhaps we could put Andrew in his stroller. She nodded, taking it out from the back.
"Harry, will you put Andrew in here, please? There are too many bags and I can't carry them all."
"Yeah," he said, coming over.
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It'd taken about an hour, but eventually Andrew's birthday presents were wrapped and put in the master bedroom. Andrew was still sleeping in his crib, warm in his clothes and clutching his stuffed toy. Hermione went to the kitchen to make some lunch, and Harry announced that he was going to pay Andromeda Tonks a short visit, just to see if they could drop Andrew off for some time.
He came back thirty minutes later and confirmed that she was alright with it, and he should just drop him off whenever they pleased. He'd filled her in on the reason why they were going to drop him off, and she felt very proud of the two, that they were going to finally set things right.
During late afternoon (about three), Harry and Hermione discussed what they could possibly have to answer, and what time they were going. They sat on the couch, Hermione's legs on Harry's lap as they talked.
"I'd like to go really soon," he put in, tracing random patterns on his wife's covered calf. "I don't want to wait too long, you see."
"Neither do I, but this afternoon? I suggested the idea this morning," she said, raising her eyebrows.
"Your point?"
"This is so fast," she muttered, laying her head on the head of the sofa.
"Okay, we'll wait, then," he shrugged, looking at his sock clad feet.
"That's not what I meant, Harry," said Hermione, sitting up and holding his cheek, forcing him to turn towards her. "I just meant that this is going so fast for me, is all. I've just been stressed more than usual lately; with Matt, McGonagall, Andrew's upcoming birthday, my mum, the Weasleys, it's just so much."
He nodded, putting his hand over hers. "I know what you mean. I just… I don't know. I just want all of this drama to end so we can go back to California," he told her.
She nodded, knowing what he meant. Leaning in, she softly brushed her lips over his, laying her head on his lap. "We can leave in a few hours. I'm really tired, and I want to take a short kip."
Sleeping on my lap, how nice. What am I supposed to do now, sit here and wait for her to wake up? He shook his head, caressing her cheek for a little bit. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping yet. Her head was facing the table and she'd rested a hand on his thigh, her hair falling everywhere. He smiled, still caressing her cheek, and rested his head on the back of the sofa, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep.
He was awoken a short while later from Andrews calls. Gently as he could, he held his wife's head and stood up, hoping not to wake her up. She didn't, but rather turned and kept on sleeping. Turning around, Harry made his way towards Andrew's room. He was standing up, holding the rail of the crib, a frown on his face. Harry walked over to him, stopping in front of him. "I see you're up," he smiled, picking him up. Andrew fussed, wiggling in his arms. "Oh, don't tell me your diaper's soiled," he muttered, walking to the changing table and checking his diaper. It was and he groaned. "You dirty little baby," he murmured playfully to his son, laying him down and taking off his diaper.
Once Andrew was cleaned, with a new diaper, he didn't fuss. Harry carried Andrew to the kitchen, intent on giving him something to eat. He knew he was hungry, and so Andrew would be, too. He took some cheese from the refrigerator and gave it to Andrew, who started munching on it happily. He set his son on the floor (who proceeded to run to his room and-Harry guessed-play with his toys) and went to his room. He shut the door halfway and unbuckled his belt, taking it off a few moments later.
He sat on the bed for a few moments, simply toying around with the belt and thinking. Today they were going to reveal the truth, he knew. The press would have a field day, but he wondered if they were even going to print it. Before, they printed things about the Weasleys. But no one from The Daily Prophet was there, and they hadn't been told of other stories, so I suppose they would've believed everything. Besides, it was better than the usual `Boy-Who-Lived Saves Wizarding World' business. He closed his head, resting on the bed for a minute, sighing loudly.
"Bloody Ministry," he muttered. "If it hadn't been for them and the Weasleys, Hermione and I wouldn't be hated right now." But why was the Ministry taking their side? He wondered, knitting his eyebrows together. "They hate me that bad, then?" he asked himself, staring at the ceiling. "It has to be that," he muttered to himself. "I guess this is their `revenge,' then." He sighed, sitting up and going to where his clothes were. Shrugging-he found no point in taking a shower right now, though he was used to taking showers at random times-he put his belt back on and left the bedroom.
He went to Andrew's room, just to make sure he was okay. After finding he was happily running around (avoiding anything and everything that would injure him, he noted, thanks to Hermione's charms and spells) the room and everywhere else, giggling while saying words he couldn't quite understand, he was free to check on Hermione. She was slowly stirring, rubbing her eyes and her hand falling on her barely showing bump. She sat up slowly, blinking a few times before her eyes settled on those of her husband's.
"Why did you move?" she asked as he sat next to her. "I was quite content sleeping on your lap."
"I'm sure you were, love, but Andrew decided to wake up," he answered. "Now we've got to go to Andromeda and then Diagon Alley," he reminded her.
She closed her eyes, remembering. "Did he eat?" she asked standing up and going into the kitchen.
"I gave him a little, but he'll probably want more," he answered, following her. "Listen, I'll put my shoes on, you give Andrew his food, and we can leave after."
She nodded, taking out some ready-made rice and cheese.
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"I really hope you don't mind, Andromeda," said Hermione.
"Oh no dear, not at all. Teddy and Andrew have such a good time, that I'd feel bad if I didn't let him stay!" she replied, smiling. "We don't get many visitors, you see. Teddy will start schooling next year, but until then I was the only one he had." She smiled, turning around and looking at the two young children playing with each other. Teddy was showing Andrew his various toys, while the latter kept on bouncing on his heels and giggling, fascinated.
"I'm proud for you two, you know," Andromeda murmured after a short while, looking at the two. "I don't know if I'd ever pluck up the courage to tell everyone what really happened, even if I really wanted to."
They smiled, a faint blush creeping up their cheeks. "Thank you," they muttered in unison.
She nodded. "Well, I suppose you'll want to go, so I'll leave you to it." Ushering them to the door, she told them, "I certainly hope to see what the front page holds."
"I certainly hope it makes the papers," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't know much else we could do if they didn't." Shrugging, he said, "Well, we'll see you in a few hours. Bye."
She nodded, watching the two get in the car and drive away. Closing the door, she sighed softly and went towards the kitchen, her intent on making a spot of tea (and perhaps take some aspirin, she internally added).
Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were driving towards the Leaky Cauldron. Since Andrew wasn't in the car, Hermione sat next to her husband. They drove in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After about ten minutes, they finally arrived in front of the old pub. Parking (he didn't feel like shrinking it), and putting a fake parking pass (Hermione suggested he do it) on the mirror of the car, the two made their way towards the door.
"Ready?" asked Hermione, taking a deep breath.
He nodded, taking her hand and loosely intertwining it with his. Opening the door, the two went inside. They weren't immediately recognized, and they were happy for that. They received a few odd stares, but that was the extent of it. Quickly walking to the back room, Harry took his wand out and hoped he did the right combination. Thankfully, it had been right, and the bricks started to part.
They took another breath, readying themselves for the onslaught of questions. None recognized them. Either that, or they paid no heed. Hermione knit her eyebrows together, leading Harry a bit more into the area they use to shop at for school supplies. They walked around a little, but it was the same as the Leaky Cauldron: they had people staring at them, but nothing else.
They looked at each other, wondering the same thing. Why was no one paying attention? They'd been nearly chasing them before, but now it seemed as though they didn't care. But finally, someone snapped a photo of them, and the questions were finally arriving.
"Is that really you, Harry Potter?" asked a reporter. He looked no older than the Potters did.
He nodded confidently.
"Hermione Granger?"
Smiling hesitantly, she nodded. She would've like to tell them she was Hermione Potter now, but knew it would bring questions too personal, and get off the real topic at hand.
Before they knew it, more flashes were seen and the questions started arriving from different directions.
"Why show yourself, again?"
"Where is the child you had in your arms, Mister Potter? He is your son, no?"
"Do the Weasleys know of this?"
"Do you know what you've done?"
Harry quieted them down. "We will answer your questions, but only if they are relevant to what the Weasleys have done." He started to explain, knowing everything he said was going to be recorded. "Ron and Ginny Weasleys have outsmarted the lot of you, and I don't know how you believed their rubbish. I killed Voldemort-"
"We already know that!" shouted someone from the crowd. He just noticed they were in the middle of a large (and growing) crowd. "But without Ron Weasley, you wouldn't have been able to `defeat' him!"
"That's not true," he retorted, his voice hostile. "It was Hermione that helped me do everything, not Ron. He walked out on us half way through, and only came back because he felt guilty. That was weeks, maybe months, later."
Hermione could see the charmed quills writing quotes and notes down, and she wondered if they were indeed going to be on the front page.
"If that is so, Mister Potter, then what role did Ginny have?" asked a reporter, eager to get the news.
"We broke up months before, but she didn't seem to get that through her head," he admitted. "She and I also had a short `relationship'-if it even was that-shortly before Ron, Hermione, and I left."
"So it was true she was carrying your child, then?"
"No," he shook his head, mentally gagging. "I'd never been with her in that way, nor have I thought of it. She wanted the attention, so she told everyone she and I were engaged."
"If that was true, why did you leave? The Wizarding World was convinced she and you were running away, ashamed."
"That is a personal question, so we will not answer it," Hermione voiced, standing confidently by her husband. "However, we can tell you that we did not leave because we were ashamed."
"If all of this is true, why did Mister and Miss Weasley claim all of this?"
"Because they knew you'd eat it up," they answered in unison, making many people (themselves included) raise their eyebrows. "They wanted the materialistic, superficial life: fame, fortune, people living under your feet," explained Hermione.
Harry nodded. "They'd started all of this well after Hermione and I left. They thought we'd never come back, so they started all of this. They made you hate us. They schemed you all," he told them, frowning slightly.
"Why did you come back, then? It seemed as though you had no idea of this until after you came back."
They really want to know, thought Harry, a bit amazed. Usually reporters wanted the inside scoop-though this was that-and the gossip. They seemed as though they were actually paying attention (and, he guessed half-heartedly, they somewhat really were curious).
Hermione answered this one. "This is another personal matter, but it had to do with my family."
"Are you two married? And do you have any children? There was a child in Mister Potter's arms last time!"
Harry and Hermione both refused to answer. Whispers instantly started among the people. The wedded couple looked at each other, and she gave the briefest of nods. "We will not be answering anymore questions," he announced.
More flashes went off, and Hermione had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. Hand still holding each other's, the two tried to get through the throngs of people, not making eye contact and ignoring anymore of the questions that were thrown at them.
They tried to get out of the Cauldron as quickly as they could, but it seemed as though reporters and photographers were waiting there as well. They ignored them and left the building, knowing they wouldn't follow them to Muggle areas. Quickly getting into the car, Harry started it up and drove away.
They were in silence for a few minutes, but then Hermione decided to talk. "How far had you really gotten with Ginny?" she asked quietly. "You said you had a short relationship."
"Not far at all, trust me," he muttered. "I was too busy with Voldemort to even get a good snog in. When you caught us in the closet, that was the farthest we've ever gotten."
"I thought she was ready to shag you," she muttered.
Harry chuckled. "We weren't about to shag, trust me."
I'm sure she was thinking it, thought Hermione, locking her jaw. I shouldn't be thinking of this. I married him. He loves me. She sighed softly, taking his hand loosely, which was lying on the stick shift.
"Sweetheart, I love you," he reassured her, turning his hand over and giving it a squeeze. "Ginny was a distraction, nothing more."
She nodded. "I know," she murmured, letting go of his hand so he could focus a bit more on driving. "Just the questions made me a bit uncomfortable, is all."
He chuckled. "Hermione, you were the one whole told Andromeda that I was so `inexperienced,' as you put it, on our wedding night, when in fact, we had some `fun' before our marriage." He raised his eyebrows, giving her a playful yet questioning look.
"We didn't do that many times though," she defended. "Just a few, when we were really sexually frustrated."
"Mhmm," he nodded, smirking.
Oh, how did it come to this? Hermione wondered, rolling her eyes. Oh, of course. Harry would want to defend his sexual behaviour.
Shortly, they arrived to their destination: Andromeda's home. Locking the car, the two made their way to the front door and knocked. A few short moments later, Andromeda answered, smiling. "I suppose everything is settled, then?"
"Hopefully," answered Hermione, walking inside the home. "How are Andrew and Teddy? I hope they weren't too much of a hassle."
"Oh, they weren't too much of a problem," she answered, winking. "They're playing right now. Teddy!" she shouted.
Teddy came sprinting in a second later, Andrew following a second after that. "Ganny!" he shouted, running around in large circles. After a few rounds of running, he stopped right in front of his grandmother. "Yeah?" he asked, his bright purple eyes staring into hers.
"Say bye-bye to Andrew, Teddy," she told the young child.
He stuck his lip out, pouting. "Does he, ganny? I want him to stay!"
"You can come back again on the second, okay, Teddy?" Hermione told the young boy. "That is, if it's okay with your grandmother." She looked at her. "Andrew's birthday is on the second, and so we were wondering-if you didn't mind-if you two could spend the day at our place."
"Oh, we wouldn't mind dear," she insisted. "We'd be delighted, actually, to spend the day at your home!"
She nodded. "Here, I'll just give you our address," she murmured, looking through her purse, finding a paper and pen she could write. She wrote it down and gave it to Andromeda, who folded it and held it in her hands. "There, now that's settled."
"Hope to see you soon," said Harry, holding Andrew, his shoes in hand. Hermione voiced the same thing, too.
"Bye, Andy!" shouted Teddy, his now sky blue eyes sparkling gleefully. "Bye Andy's Mummy and Daddy!"
"Bye, Teddy," they both said.
Turning, they left.
Author's Notes: As I watch Radio City Christmas Spectacular in New York City. It's cool, but they all look alike. Odd.
Do tell what you think.
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