Author's Notes: Okay, so this chapter doesn't even really fit with the story. Well, not most of the chapter, anyway. This is more of an interlude, I suppose you could say. They're exceedingly OoC, so please excuse me for that. This is, after all, Andrew Potter's birthday (well, you'll see). Oh, whatever.
I hope you enjoy. :-)
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September 1st, 2001 …
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The clatter of talking and scolding was usual in the Weasley household. Arthur Weasley, now much older, simply tried his best to ignore the sounds of his children (and granddaughter) running about and making a ruckus. Calmly, he sipped his morning tea, marvelling at how, even after much time; his wife was still able to make his most favourite tea. After taking a hearty sip, he picked up the morning edition of the Prophet and unfolded it.
His eyes widened when he saw the front page. It was a picture of Harry-who was holding Andrew-and Hermione, with two close-ups of their hands, and an angled picture of Hermione's stomach. The first picture was the largest of the four, with the picture of Hermione's stomach and their hands with a medium sized frame. In the largest picture, the two were looking around, Harry seemingly trying to obscure their son from pictures, though it was of no use; Andrew was clearly seen.
Gathering himself, he sat up straighter and started reading the headlines.
POTTER AND GRANGER: THE TRUTH
Editors: Thomas Jenkins, Timothy Bradford, and William Fitzpatrick
It seems that our two "frauds" have finally decided to tell us the "truth." Seen in Diagon Alley on August 31st, Potter (21) and Granger (20) (supposed Potter, see bottom of page 1) explained that this was all a swindle.
"Hermione helped me with everything," said Potter, referring to what the two youngest Weasleys had said - Granger didn't do anything, rather all of the work was actually Ronald Weasley. "He left us halfway through, an only came back because he was feeling guilty. That could've been weeks-maybe months-later," he claimed. When asked about his relation to Miss Weasley, he said that they "ended" it long ago. Their short relationship hadn't progressed far, and it actually hindered his thought process while on the hunt for You-Know-Who. "No," was his flat out statement when he was asked about the supposed child in his and Weasley's life.
They say all of this started months after these two had already left. Ginny and Ronald Weasley wanted the "superficial life: fame, fortune, with people living under you." If they had showed up earlier, they never would've started this, claimed Granger.
When asked about the possibility of marriage, they remained quiet; however, the Prophet has evidence this is clearly true. There is a picture of a silver band on Harry Potter's left hand ring finger, and several on Hermione Granger's hand: one on her left hand thumb, one on her right hand ring finger, and two (engagement and wedding rings) on her left hand ring finger. A child was also seen with Potter (look at above picture) that is said to be their child. Also, suspicions of another Potter sprog are likely, though she might only be a few months along. Clearly, it seems as though the Potters want to keep their personal lives just that: personal.
Are they telling the truth, or do they just want to get back at the Weasleys? Why were they really back? And where is the little Potter heir? Hopefully, the Prophet will be able to tell you, the readers, soon.
More on the Potter/Weasley/Granger/Weasley quad on page 3
Defeat of You-Know-Who, page 3
Shocked, Mister Weasley looked at pictures and read the article again, and wondered when they had the courage to do all of this. Their Gryffindor courage, he mused silently, setting the paper down and picking up his tea. He certainly hoped that no one got hold of the morning paper, especially his wife and two youngest children.
He folded it and placed it on his lap, sincerely hoping that no one asked about the paper. So far he was successful, when everyone sat down for their breakfast and went on about their business. As Fleur tried to feed her daughter, Bill was heading out the door, having finished his breakfast early. George was picking at his eggs, while Ron was eating in his usual fashion. He smiled; some things never changed. Even Ginny seemed too preoccupied, choosing to drink her water rather than search around for the paper and look for the latest gossip.
His luck, however, was cut short when Ginny asked for the paper. "Dad, can I have the Prophet? I want to see what the scores were for the Harpies game yesterday, since I was out with Bradley yesterday."
He coughed, thinking of an excuse he could give his daughter. He certainly didn't want any angry shouting this early in the morning. "They lost," he told her, smiling softly, trying his best to obscure the newspaper.
"Really?" she wondered, her eyebrows knotting in puzzlement. "Parvati told me they won. Perhaps you were looking at the wrong team. Here, just give me the paper and I'll check," she said, outstretching her arm expectantly.
"Sweetheart, I'm sure that Parvati-" he started, but she cut him off.
"Please, Dad, just give me the paper." She sighed softly in frustration.
He knew he would regret his next decision, but he unhappily (though he didn't show it) handed the paper over to his daughter. She unfolded it and hastily opened it, not noticing the front page. She flipped it over to the Quidditch section, locating her team. Within a few moments she'd found the Harpies and exclaimed, "See, I knew they won!" She shut the papers, and froze.
"What?" wondered Ron, looking over Ginny's shoulder, at the headlines. His eyes widened considerably. "Oh, Merlin," he whispered.
Ginny skimmed the article quickly, dreading every word and quote Harry and Hermione said. This was going to destroy them, she knew. "We're ruined," she muttered to herself. Looking at the pictures, noting that Hermione already was expecting, and the child really was theirs, she crumpled it up and threw it on the table forcefully.
"How could they do that?!" asked Ron, outraged.
Ginny gave a low growl of frustration, dreading what was to come next. Howlers, papers publishing more of Harry and Hermione's truth? She wasn't sure. She closed her eyes, hoping to calm herself a bit in front of her niece.
"Now, now, Ginny," placated Arthur, "calm down, sweetheart. I'm sure this'll pass soon enough."
"Dad," she shouted, turning her attention towards her father, "don't say that! You don't know what's going to happen! How could you not tell me?" She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream so badly, but she knew she couldn't. Acting like a little toddler in a temper tantrum wouldn't help one bit.
"What are people going to say?" asked Ron after he finished his toast. His eyes widened a bit more. "You don't suppose… you don't suppose they'll be against us now, do you?"
"Oh dear Merlin," she said in an anguished whisper, "I hope not!" She leaned down and held her brother's shoulders. "Don't you know what this means?!"
"Little sister," said George, a grin sporting his lips, "calm down, will ya? You're hurting my ear." Chuckling, he added, "You guys were finally caught," it's about time, "so now you'll have to face the consequences."
"Oh shut up, George!"
Shrugging, he stood up, munching on a piece of bacon. "Okay, but don't come howling to me when you've got rooms full of howlers." He started laughing. "Get it? You'll be howling because you've gotten howlers!"
"Yeah, I get it," she growled, temper getting the better of her. "Now, leave."
"You don't own the room, Ginevra," muttered George, though he complied to her order, still chuckling. It was a horrible joke, he thought, but I can't help but laugh.
Molly came out a few minutes later, ready to take the leftovers and save them for later, when she saw the crumpled paper on the table. "Now, who did this?" she demanded, not taking any heed to her fuming daughter and angry, yet confused looking son.
Fleur took her daughter and stood up. "I'll just put `er upstairs, and I can `elp you," said Fleur.
"Oh no, dearie," said Molly, shaking her head. "Take her and go upstairs. I have everything under control here. Don't worry."
Nodding hesitantly, she went upstairs. Meanwhile, Molly took the paper from the table and started to unfold it.
"Molly, I don't think you'll want to do that," warned Arthur gently, looking at Ron and Ginny for support. They stayed quiet. His wife unfolded the paper and, with a bewildered look, started reading the article. Moments later, she put the paper down, glaring at her husband, demanding a silent explanation. "I don't know why they did it," he said hesitantly, slightly fearing his wife's temper.
"Arthur, why didn't you tell me before?" she asked quietly, deadly. She turned her attention towards her to children. Ginny's expression didn't change, and neither did her stature: she stood there, breathing heavily, eyes livid, glaring daggers at the Daily Prophet. Ron, meanwhile, simply had a bewildered, yet semi-confused, look on his face. His eyebrows were knit, as if he was contemplating something.
"Molly, you were in the kitchen," he attempted to explain. "I didn't want to bother you with this little news, so I didn't bring it up. But it doesn't really matter," he said quickly, seeing his wife's look, "Harry and Hermione's `truths' might not even circulate far. People might not believe them," he continued.
Molly shook her head, holding on to the paper. "Arthur, please. This is Harry and Hermione Potter. Even if people hate them, their word still holds meaning." She closed her eyes in frustration. "I'm going to take a kip for a bit, and hopefully I'll be in a better mood by then." Turning around briskly, she sighed heavily and headed for the stairs.
Fleur, who'd already come downstairs a minute prior, started to mutter softly while she took out her wand. The dishes that were empty started to float towards the kitchen and in the sink, while she herself started to gather the plates of food that still had food on them and the others hovered to the kitchen and sat on the counter.
"Are you finished?" Fleur asked quietly, pointing towards her father-in-law's plate. He nodded and she took it, going to the kitchen a few moments later.
Arthur sighed softly, putting his face in his hands. "I can't believe one article did this," he muttered to himself. He took off his glasses and rubbed his face, suddenly tired. He looked up and saw that his two youngest children weren't there.
Sighing softly to himself, he closed his eyes and laid his head on the table.
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Later on that afternoon, as Harry was attempting to clean his child's face, his cell phone rang. He groaned, picking up Andrew and holding him on his waist, and started to walk towards the centre table. Hermione, who'd decided to sleep in a bit since she was still tired, sat up from where she was sleeping on the sofa and picked up the phone. Seeing that it was Andromeda, she waved him off and he shrugged, going back to the bathroom to clean up Andrew.
Flipping the phone open, she answered. "Hello?"
"Hermione, hello," Andromeda's voice called out. "How are you?"
"We're doing fine, actually," she answered, smiling, making herself a bit more comfortable. "Harry is cleaning up Andrew, and I just woke up after a short nap."
She heard a short, soft chuckle. "Teddy's running around everywhere right now; he just had a slice of my pound cake. He's excited that we'll be at your home tomorrow," she said. "By the way, your article made front page."
"Oh?"
"Yes, and from the story you told me, it seems as though they haven't been lying. Though, they do have the suspicion that you're married and expecting a child; they're already wondering where Andrew was."
"Well, at least they aren't saying we're married to the Weasleys," she shrugged, smiling softly when she saw Andrew run towards her, his baby blanket (also his best friend) dragging behind him. "I'm actually sort of glad they think we're married to each other. That way, they'll start thinking about why we've been gone, and what we did during that time."
Andrew tugged on the leg of her sweats, and she kissed his head, cradling his back and picking him up, letting him snuggle to her side as she pat the side of his thigh softly. He rested his head on the side of her breast, one leg resting on her thigh, and he closed his eyes, his soft blanket wrapped into a ball in his arms. "Mumma," he sighed softly.
"Oh, looks like Teddy's found the plate of cookies," Andromeda muttered after a few moments. "I'd better leave now, dear. I'll see you around noon tomorrow?"
"Yes. We aren't planning anything spectacular," said Hermione, still patting Andrew's thigh softly, listening to his breathing. "Perhaps we'll bake a few cookies-we aren't much for cake-and have a small get together," she informed the older woman. "We don't want anything too big."
"Understandable." She paused for a moment. "We'll, I think I should really take my leave now. Teddy has already eaten a few, and if I know him, he'll just eat a few more. They're his favourite: chocolate chip."
Hermione chuckled. "That's Harry's favourite, too. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then. Bye, Hermione."
"Bye." Hanging up, she laid the phone on the table once more. Harry came a moment later, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants, and sat next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulders.
"What'd she say?" he asked, extending his arm and resting it on Andrew's sock covered feet. He curled his toes for a moment, but remained sleeping.
"Nothing much," she answered automatically. "We were in the papers, and they didn't bluff. They're also figuring out we're already married, and that Andrew is ours."
He nodded. "That's good, I guess. It's better than having them believe we married the Weasleys."
Hermione chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. He automatically brought her closer and kissed the top of her head softly. "That's exactly what I thought," she murmured, giving his neck a soft kiss.
"So what time are they going to arrive?" asked Harry, pulling away and picking up Andrew gently. He cradled Andrew in his arms, making sure he stayed asleep. Standing up, he raised an eyebrow, awaiting Hermione's answer.
"About noon," she answered, standing up and folding the blanket. "Put Andrew in his room," she instructed, "he's very sleepy."
"I know," he murmured, turning around and walking towards the direction of his son's room. He walked inside and switched the position Andrew was in, and put him in his crib, putting the blanket on him afterwards. "Sleep well," he murmured, walking over to the baby monitor and turning it on. He went back to the direction of the living room, but found Hermione walking into their bedroom instead. Instantly, he followed her into the room.
"It's about four," she informed him, squatting down and folding their clothes. "I think it's about time we actually get a wardrobe for ourselves," she muttered, taking her wand out.
"We'll each need a separate one," said Harry, also taking out his wand. "I never thought the day would come when we had so many clothes." He chuckled softly. Thinking about the spell to transfigure something into the two wardrobes they needed (the closet the flat had provided was much too small for their clothes, so they decided-from the beginning-that they weren't going to put anything in there), he looked for that something. He found a small note of paper, and then muttered the Latin incantation. It transfigured itself to a standard sized wardrobe, and he smiled. Looking towards Hermione, he saw that she had already transfigured a wardrobe, and was working on putting her clothes in there.
"Three more hours `till Matt arrives," said Hermione after some time. Most of her clothes were hung and folded, each neatly placed on top of each other, and next to each other. She only had to put some of her bras (she never realized how many she had) and underwear in, but that'd only take a minute or so, she reasoned.
"Mhm," he hummed, taking a few pairs of boxer shorts and stuffing them into the drawer. After placing his numerous amounts of boxers in the drawer, he opened the one underneath it and started folding his jeans and putting them in there.
The two spent almost half an hour folding, organizing, and re-organizing. Once they thought it was good enough for them, the two zipped up their now empty luggage bags and shrunk them, putting them on Hermione's vanity table. Taking a hair tie, Hermione started finger combing her hair so there wouldn't be any bumps when she put it up. She was glad that she hadn't put any product in today, so it was easily manageable. Giving a half shrug when she saw her appearance, she turned and started walking towards Harry and stopped when she was directly in front of him.
"What are we going to for three hours? I don't have any homework I could do, and Andrew is sleeping," she muttered, loosely taking his hands and entwining them with hers.
Grinning, Harry tugged his hands and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I know how we could spend one of those hours," he told her playfully.
She scrunched up her nose, leaning her head on his chest. "I'm not in the mood, Harry. Sorry. Why don't I just fish out a book from our other bags so we can read?" she suggested, snaking her arms around his waist.
He tightened his grip on her shoulders, nodding a bit dejectedly. "Alright," he murmured, his voice soft.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, giving him a quick squeeze, "but I'm just not in the mood right now. Maybe in an hour or two, tonight definitely."
"You don't have you if you don't want," he said, pulling back. "I was… just being me," he playfully continued, grinning at her.
She rolled her eyes. "That's all you have on your mind," she muttered teasingly. "Sex, family, and school."
"What else is there to think of?" he asked playfully, though he was aware she knew that wasn't all he thought about.
Rolling her eyes once more, she muttered, "I'm going to get my purse and find our books."
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"Long time no see," said Matt, grinning broadly. He walked over to Hermione, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek, next moving to Andrew (who was on the floor, playing happily with his blanket) and picking him up. "How's the little Potter?" he asked, poking his stomach lightly, making the young boy giggle.
He let him down gently and turned again. Harry was putting his medium sized gym bag by the centre table, while Hermione went into the kitchen to get him a cup of tea. He was a bit tired, yes, but he was trying his best to get over his rejected proposal and not be depressed during Andrew's first birthday. Can't ruin my godson's first birthday, he thought, sitting on the arm of the sofa, or else his parents will kill me! He chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"So, mate," said Harry after a few moments, "how are you?" He'd managed to transfigure the extra armchair into a comfortable single bed, enough for Matt. He took a pillow from the sofa and transfigured that into a blanket, then turning his attention towards him.
He shrugged, rubbing the inside of his wrist. "I'm still a bit sad over the rejection, but I'm glad Christina and I are still dating. I thought she would've broken up after she said `no,' but we're still dating." He gave the faintest smiles and shrugged again. "But hey, I guess she was right. We haven't been dating long enough."
Harry nodded, picking Andrew up and moving him a bit out of the way. "True. You've only met her, what, four five months ago?"
He nodded. "Yeah, something around there."
"Tea, anyone?" asked Hermione, bringing a tray of tea out. She set it on the table, sure that Andrew wouldn't burn himself when she walked past him, and poured some in the cup, then offering it to Matt. He took it gratefully, smiling in thanks.
"You still make the greatest tea," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "It must be in your blood."
Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Are you hungry?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, but I'm a bit tired. You guys know how I like to sleep in `till at least two." He grinned, taking another sip of the tea.
"You two," muttered Hermione, "are impossible. I honestly don't know how you managed to pass with flying colours when you both could sleep all day, not study beforehand, while playing two sports."
"It's a talent, sweetheart," said Harry, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders from behind. "Please, don't question us."
"Papa!" squealed Andrew, proudly showing his blanket wrapped tightly around his small arm. He jumped happily, his hand bouncing dramatically.
Grinning happily, he picked up Andrew and gave his cheek a kiss. "Good job, son," he said, holding the underside of the blanket and showing Hermione. "Look what our son accomplished," he chuckled, smirking.
Laughing, she gave Andrew's shoulder a soft kiss. "Silly little imp," she murmured affectionately.
Harry then let him down, letting Andrew do whatever it was his mind thought of next. A few moments passed, as Matt continued to sip on the hot tea, and Harry and Hermione watched their son play.
"So, uh, what are the plans for tomorrow?" Matt asked after a few minutes. He put his teacup down, settling himself comfortably on the sofa while awaiting the Potters answer.
"We'll, we were thinking about baking Andrew's cookies or brownies in the morning tomorrow," informed Hermione. "Then around noon Andromeda-a sort of relative-and Teddy-Harry's godson-will be arriving, and then we'll celebrate and then perhaps go out to eat."
"Sounds good," murmured Matt. He yawned. "Well, its not even noon in Palo Alto, so I'm going to take a nap for a few hours. I'll see you guys in the morning, I guess."
They nodded, and Harry said, "Yeah. If you need anything, just look around. Our room is the first door to the right, while Andrew's is adjacent to it. The restroom is in front of you and if you need anything, just knock on mine and Hermione's door."
Matt nodded, laying on the comfortable cot. Yawning, he said, "We'll see you tomorrow."
They nodded and Harry picked up Andrew. "G'night." He nodded.
"What now?" murmured Hermione, taking his hand and rubbing it wither thumb.
"I'll put Andrew in his crib, and he can play until he sleeps, as usual." He grinned afterwards, giving her cheek a kiss and giving her hand a quick squeeze. "And then, you and I can spend those few hours having Happy Time."
"You're so out of character today," she muttered playfully, holding his hand and placing it on her hip. "You're never this persistent about having sex."
He shrugged. "Andrew is turning one, and you're getting to that date where you won't be allowed to have sex." He grinned, "Sorry for being your husband."
"Harry, don't talk like this in front of Matt!" she scolded, remembering he wasn't more than ten feet away. "Lord, just imagine what he can hear. Let's go into our room and talk."
Nodding, he went to Andrew's room to put his son in his crib.
Meanwhile, Matt, who had turned away from the married couple and tried to sleep, was failing miserably. He had heard every word the two exchanged, and he groaned. This is like every other time I've slept over, he thought, scrunching up his nose. I won't be able to sleep for a good two hours, at the least.
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"Andy!" shouted Teddy, running towards Andrew. His hair was electric blue, showing how happy and ecstatic he was. "Andy I brought cookies and cake and toys and fun!"
Andrew jumped up and down, squealing, "Ee!" since he wasn't able to pronounce `Teddy.' The official one year old, along with his four-year-old friend, raced towards his room, their intent on playing with the toys. Andromeda chuckled as she watched the two children. Harry was in the kitchen with Matt, trying to give him `his'-as Harry liked to say-coffee: strong, hot, black coffee that'd wake anyone up. Hermione led Andromeda to the sofa, and the two sat and started talking.
"How do you manage to take care of Teddy?" she asked, leaning back.
Andromeda sighed. "It's very tough. I have a nanny take care of him a few days, because he's just so active. I'm getting old and I'm running out of energy."
"That's how Andrew is, but thankfully we're still young and have energy to take care of him and our future children."
"That's good," she nodded. After a few moments, Matt came back, still in very baggy sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt, drinking the large cup of coffee. Matt waved at Andromeda, sitting on his cot.
"Hello," he greeted. "I'm Matthew Anderson. I went to Stanford University with Harry and Hermione."
She smiled politely. "I'm Andromeda Tonks," she said. "I'm Teddy Lupin's maternal grandmother."
He nodded, taking another long gulp of the coffee. A moment later, Harry came out and stood by Hermione. "So, when do you suppose we can celebrate the little Potter's first official birthday?" asked Harry.
"In a bit," answered Hermione. "He and Teddy are playing right now. Let them have their fun."
"Andy's Mummy and Daddy, look!" shouted Teddy a second later, sprinting in front of the two. "Andy turned into a mummy for his Mummy!" He looked behind him, as if expecting Andrew to come in, but he didn't. "Andy!"
Andrew gave a loud cry from his room, and Harry and Hermione immediately sprinted towards his room. He was tightly wrapped in several blankets. His whole body was covered, except for, thankfully, his face. He had tears streaming down his face, and he tried in vain to wiggle out of the blankets. Hermione hunkered down quickly, holding him in a standing position and speedily unwrapping him. After he was finally unwrapped he wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist, crying loudly. They picked him up, hushing him.
After a few minutes of patting his back and murmuring soothing words to their son, he finally started to calm down. Hermione, still holding Andrew to her chest, walked out of the room with Harry and into the living room. They saw Teddy looking down, a frown on his face.
"Don't ever do that again," scolded Andromeda, her eyebrows knit together.
"Kay, Gamma."
"Do you promise?"
"Yeah."
Sighing, she turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry, dear. Teddy didn't know better, but I told him that he can't make human mummies."
"It's okay," said Harry, rubbing the back of Andrew's head. "He's only four, after all. I'm sure Andrew will do this to one of our children in the future."
Hermione put Andrew down, who wrapped his arms around her leg and leaned on it. "Well, now that Andrew is slightly better, why don't we start the festivities?"
"Let us," said Andromeda, standing up.
I wonder if Matt finally decided to take a shower, thought Harry, looking around for any trace of Matt. Shrugging, he followed his wife to the kitchen.
Nearly an hour later, after the cookies were baked, they were singing `Happy Birthday' to Andrew, who, with a party hat, was happily watching. "Happy birthday to you!" they finished, most off key, each with a huge grin plastered on their faces.
Harry and Hermione took a cookie and broke a small piece off. They offered it to Andrew, who opened his mouth widely and chewed the moist chocolate cookie. He did the same when he was offered the cookie from everyone (Matt actually dared to give him the whole cookie, in which Harry promptly took it from his offered hand and stuffed the cookie in his mouth), but when it was his turn to hold the cookie and feed everyone a piece, he decided to stuff as much as he could in his mouth.
"Oh no," muttered Hermione, taking the cookie from his mouth. "You're much too young to eat that cookie."
"Hermione, he's one," Harry defended his son. "He's not six months old anymore. Besides, it's not as if he'll have cookies all the time. This is a once in a while thing, love. At least grant him this privilege."
Rolling her eyes, "Fine. But he's going to have them in smaller pieces."
Matt chuckled, patting Andrew's small back lightly. "Little man, you have the two oddest parents."
Andrew turned to Matt and giggled.
Author's Notes: Reviews make my world go `round and `round and `round and `round. Don't make me stop and fall.
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