What She Couldn't Do

SwishAndFlick31

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 27/08/2007
Last Updated: 27/08/2007
Status: completed

One night, Harry and Hermione had a fight over Harry's job. As he storms off, he doesn't realize that it was the last time he sees his family. Warning: Character death.

Chapters

1. One Shot - and I mean it

1. One Shot - and I mean it

Summary: One night, Harry and Hermione had a fight over Harry's job. As he storms off, he doesn't realize that it was the last time he sees his family.

Spoilers: One - seven. Not really. Eh.

Warnings: Language, MAJOR OOC-ness, and lots and lots of caps lock. :-P

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, he would've gotten together with Hermione before Hogwarts. Even after. Forever. And, as you can see, that didn't happen, and I don't own this. Shit.

Author's Notes: I'm mad at Harry and Hermione right now. I read a very horrible fanfic, and now I'm positively seething at the dingbats. Grr…

But, I hope you enjoy, because this isn't particularly enjoying. I wonder how many people will have even made it to the end? Haha, I'm lucky I'm one.

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April 30th, 2007 …

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Harry started tucking his youngest and only son into his bed. Little James sighed contentedly, snuggling into the red and gold covers.

“Night, Daddy,” murmured the little five-year-old, finding his stuffed dragon and bringing it close to his chest.

Harry smiled, giving his son's black hair a kiss. “Goodnight, James,” he murmured, getting up and leaving the room. He went to his next offspring's room, his oldest, Elizabeth, being tucked in by her mother. He smiled, watching Hermione tuck in the replica version of herself, giving her forehead a kiss as she left.

“Hey,” he said softly, taking her hand.

“Hi,” she murmured, going to their bedroom. He followed her.

“So how was work today?” Hermione asked after some time, taking her shirt off and putting on one of her old shirts.

Harry sighed. “I've got to do a mission,” responded Harry, following suit. He took off his black trousers and black shirt, leaving him in only his green boxers.

“When?” she asked, her body stiffening.

“Tomorrow.”

“Where will you be going?” she prodded.

He sighed. “You know I can't tell you.” How many times had they gone through this? She knew that he wasn't allowed to tell anyone, including his wife, about his work. She knew that, ever since he'd become an Unspeakable.

“Why can't you, Harry?” she deadpanned.

He closed his eyes, sitting on the bed. “Because you know I can't tell anyone anything about my job.” He got up, wrapping his arms around Hermione from behind. “Love, look, I'll only be gone for a month or two—”

“—Only a month or two?!” she asked hotly. “Only a month or two?! Harry, you can't expect me to—”

“—I know, love, I know,” he intervened.

“No!” she quickly said. “Don't you `I know, love, I know' me! Harry James Potter, you're about to leave for two months! Do you think I'm happy about this?”

“Look, I know you're not, but it's work,” Harry answered sadly. Sometimes he wished he could just tell Hermione where he was going.

She walked away from him, leaning against the windowsill. “Oh, right, because it's work, right? Because you can't tell your wife, or your children where you're going to be for two months! Because you think work is more important than your family!” She turned around, tears running down her cheeks.

“Look, Hermione,” Harry pleaded. “It's not like that! I love my family, and I love you!”

“Oh, you do, now do you?” she retorted, her voice rising. “Why aren't you there for the children, then? What about when Liz was trying to ride a bike? What about when James was trying to read today? Have you seen the marks the children have gotten last week?” she questioned. She shook her head vigorously, her finger pointing at Harry. “NO! YOU HAVEN'T BEEN HERE FOR ANY OF THOSE THINGS!”

“LOOK, WOMAN!” Harry shouted at the wife (something he'd never, ever done before). “I know I haven't been there, but that doesn't mean I don't love them!!”

“I DON'T CARE, HARRY! SOMETIMES LOVE ISN'T ENOUGH!” She shouted back. “Did you maybe think that we might just need something more?!”

“You're barking,” Harry snarled, his anger getting the best of him.

“I'm barking?” Hermione laughed dramatically, throwing her head back as she did so. “Potter, look at yourself! Here you are, with your own family, and you're drowning in your work!” The next words hit Harry like a bludger: “Sometimes I wonder if those `missions' are just ways to leave so you could have illicit affairs.”

“You think I'd cheat on you?!” shouted Harry, his arms flailing about. “Why in the God dammed hell would I do that?!”

“BECAUSE, HARRY!!” she shouted. “YOU'RE HOME FOR A WEEK OUT OF THE MONTH. YOU'RE BARELY HOME AT NIGHT, AND WE HAVEN'T MADE LOVE IN OVER A MONTH!”

“I told you, Hermione! I'm tired! I've been working my arse off to help everyone!” Harry shouted back, ready to storm out of the house.

“Yes, Harry!” she shouted, and she was sure the children would burst in any moment now. “You're helping everyone EXCEPT YOUR FAMILY!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T NEED THIS!” Harry shouted, pulling his trousers back on and grabbing his shirt and shoving his arms into them, forcefully doing the buttons. “I've had a hard day at work, I'm leaving tomorrow, and all you're doing is bloody yell at me!!”

“DON'T YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM ME, HARRY JAMES POTTER!” Hermione shouted, following behind Harry as he stormed through the corridors.

He turned around, and Hermione ran into his hard chest. “Too late,” he snarled. And with those last words, he apparated out of the house, unbeknownst to him that it'd be the last time he'd ever see them again.

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Hermione turned around, too livid to realize her two children were standing outside their bedroom doors, both looking at their mother with wide, fearful eyes. James' emerald eyes were tired, but he walked up to Hermione and hugged her legs.

She nearly jumped, putting a hand to her chest, her breathing heavy. “James, oh my! What are you doing here?” she asked, hunkering down to his level.

“I… I heard you and Daddy screaming… and I got scared,” he responded, wrapping his arms around her.

“Mum, what happened?” Elizabeth asked, walking towards Hermione.

“Nothing, love,” she lied. “Your father and I just had a small fight, nothing more.” She smiled, hoping her children believed her.

“When's Daddy coming back?” James asked, his emerald eyes shining with tears.

“Don't worry, James,” Hermione answered, kissing her son's forehead. “Daddy will be home soon.”

Elizabeth looked at Hermione with sad eyes, and she turned around and went back to her room. Hermione picked James up, and brought him to hers and Harry's room. She laid him down on their large bed, and she lay next to him, threading her fingers though his silky black hair. Since he was already sleeping, he faced away from her, just like he did when he was younger.

Hermione craned her neck and stared at the door, almost wishing she hadn't yelled at Harry. She lowered her eyes, and resumed threading her fingers through James', slowly falling asleep.

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Harry walked down the streets, hands shoved forcefully in his pockets, glaring at every person walking his way. He didn't know how long he walked, but soon, he found himself at a dead end. He growled, and checked his back pocket. His wand wasn't there. Feeling around his body, wondering if his wand was somewhere else, his eyes widened considerably as he found that it was nowhere on his body. Had he forgot it had home? Had he dropped it?

“Looking for this, Potter?” asked a cold voice from behind Harry.

He turned around, and gasped silently. There was a man in Death Eater robes, fingering Harry's wand as if it were a drumstick (though Harry doubted he knew that).

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice deadly. He didn't move, knowing that if he did, the Death Eater could easily kill him. Harry cursed himself. He was defenceless, he had no wand, and he was seriously considering apparating away.

“Oh nothing,” drawled the man, inching closer to the green-eyed man. “Just to kill you. Potter, you killed our Lord, and how? With a wand.” He sniggered behind his mask, walking closer, nearly grinning as he saw Potter do nothing. “But look now: no wand. Too bad, Potter. I'll have fun killing you, and then your wife and children.”

“Don't you dare touch my family,” Harry snarled, walking towards the Death Eater.

“I don't know why you consider them your family, anyway,” said the Death Eater. “You're barely home as it is. I could've killed them years ago, and I bet you still wouldn't have noticed.” He shrugged, pocketing Harry's wand. “Oh well, now I have the joy of killing your son, daughter, your wife, and that unborn child of yours.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Wha-what unborn child?”

“Oh? You haven't heard? Your wife is three months pregnant. Oh, or perhaps it's not even your child.”

“SHUT UP!” shouted Harry, punching the man in the stomach, not thinking about the consequences.

The man smirked. Perfect. As he was punched, he staggered back, and pointed his wand at Potter's chest. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted.

Harry didn't even get a chance to blink before he died.

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Hermione went to the kitchen to cook the children breakfast, momentarily forgetting about hers and Harry's fight last night. She wrapped Harry's dressing gown tighter around her, flipping the pancake afterwards. Sighing, she looked at the wedding and engagement rings adorning her ring fingers.

She smiled, remembering when he'd proposed. They'd only been dating for four months at the time, but they were at Grimmauld place, eating Chinese takeout. They'd been talking about everyday things, but then he'd suddenly asked her to marry him. She'd said yes, of course, and were married three months later. After two months, she found out she was a month pregnant.

Hermione smiled, but then she heard a knock on the door. Who could that be? Turning the cooker off, she strode through the sitting room just as the children were starting to awake.

She opened the door, and saw Ron. “Ron, what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice light. “Come in, come in!” she urged, smiling. Holding his arm, she nearly dragged him into the sitting room, where Elizabeth and James were sitting.

“It's been so long,” she said.

Ron wasn't smiling. His expression was grim, and he had tears in his eyes. “Hermione… I-I have some news,” he informed her.

She, apparently, hadn't noticed Ron's expression. “Oh, I do, too! I'm pregnant, Ron! Harry and I are having another boy!” she chuckled, fondly touching her stomach. “I'm three months along. I wanted to tell Harry… but, but we had a spat last night and…” she trailed off.

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ron's voice was low, lonely, soft.

Hermione's eyes knit in confusion. “Is that where he is? I… I thought he had to go on a Miss—”

“—Hermione!” he interrupted. “Listen to me!” he exclaimed. She nodded, and he continued. “Harry… Harry… Harry was found dead last night…” He blinked, his mouth formed in a scowl, and a few tears escaped his eyes.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she felt as though she'd lost all control of her nerves. “What…?” No, no, it wasn't true. Ron was just pulling a stunt. Harry would arrive in two months and they'd forget about their spat, and raise their new son together.

“He died, Hermione,” he murmured. “He was found abandoned in Muggle London, just… dead. We suspect it was a Death Eater that killed him.” He shook his head, more tears escaping. “No one knew until a squib policeman told us. Muggles and Wizards alike are trying to find the man that killed Harry.” His eyes suddenly became cold, “And when we find him, I'll kill him!”

Hermione shook her head, chuckling. “That's funny, Ron. I know Harry just told you so you could pull a little stunt on me.” She shook her head as she saw tears escape his eyes, and she mildly noted that the moisture on her cheeks could only mean that she was crying, too. “This isn't funny, Ron. You know I don't like it when you kid with Harry's life like that.”

He shook his head, walked away, and went towards James and Elizabeth. “Lizzie, James, why don't you two hurry up and get dressed? The four of us are going to the hospital… and, I have to tell—”

“This isn't funny, Ronald,” Hermione hissed.

“I'm not joking!” he retorted, standing up. He took James into his arms, and wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder. “Hermione, hold on to my arm.”

She shook her head. “No. You're lying. I know you are.” Her voice was shaky, and tears were spilling out of her eyes freely. “Harry isn't dead!”

“Daddy's dead?” James and Elizabeth asked in unison, their eyes wide in horror.

“No,” Hermione answered immediately, though she did hold onto Ron's arm.

They apparated to St. Mungo's, and went to a special closed off ward. They didn't care if they were in their pyjamas; they needed to see Harry.

“Just go through the doors,” Ron murmured.

Wordlessly, she took James into her arms and led her and Elizabeth through the door. Inside, Hermione gasped, Elizabeth screamed, and James started crying.

Harry was lying on the bed, his face pale and lifeless. There was a white sheet covering him waist down, and he wore the same clothes he did the night before. He wasn't wearing glasses, and his eyes were still open.

Hermione let James down, sobs threatening to overtake her body. No, it wasn't possible. She couldn't have thrown him to his death. No, it was impossible. Just a mild spat. Nothing much, they'd be happy the next day! No, she was the last person in the universe to want Harry dead.

“Daddy?” James squeaked, walking up to Harry, tears staining his cheeks. “Daddy, are you dead?” No response. “DADDY!” he shouted, dropping his stuffed dragon and shaking Harry's shoulder. “DADDY, WAKE UP!”

Hermione saw Elizabeth walk up to Harry's corpse, scream, and cry on top of him, knowing she wasn't going to get a response from her dead father. “Daddy… Daddy…” the two were echoing, crying and holding on to Harry.

Hermione's body finally gave away and she slowly fell on her knees, her mouth covered with her hand, sobs wracking her body. No… Oh Merlin no! She hadn't even told him that they were having another son! “No,” she whispered. “No. No. No. NO!”

Ron came in, seconds later, and picked Hermione up, letting her lean on his shoulder and cry. It didn't matter. He had tears of his own staining his clothes.

“James… Elizabeth, c'mon… we're not allowed to stay here for too long,” Ron said softly.

James and Elizabeth took one last look at their father, and went to their Uncle Ron.

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Hermione stared at the tombstone, James and Elizabeth by her side, their arm wrapped tightly around her waist and hips. She touched her stomach, where their unborn son lay protected in her womb, and mentally cursed herself. He would never see his father, and it was all her fault.

“Mummy?” squeaked James a few minutes later, tightening his hold on her hips. “What does it say?” he asked, pointing a thin finger at Harry's tombstone.

She sighed. She already knew it by heart.

Harry James Potter

July 31st, 1980 - April 30th, 2007

Friend, Husband, Father, and Saviour of the World

His promise: To keep those he loved happy.

“It just says that Daddy was a wonderful person, and that he promised to keep everyone happy,” Hermione answered, dropping a kiss on the top of James' head. She rubbed Elizabeth's back, feeling her tears soak through her shirt.

“Daddy was a good Dad,” Elizabeth murmured. “I love him.” Without warning, she ran away, sprinting towards the car and leaning against it, crying.

“I miss Daddy,” James said, crying. He, too, ran away and sat next to his sister. They both wrapped their arms around each other and cried freely.

Hermione fell on her knees, ignoring the pain she felt just then, and touched the tombstone. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “I'm so sorry! I… Oh Lord… One mediocre fight, and I get you killed.” She shook her head, sobbing freely. “I didn't even get a chance at telling you we were having another baby.” She cried, resting her forehead on the cold granite of the tombstone.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, but soon, she found herself being enveloped by her son and daughter, each hugging her like they had before. Slowly, she got up, pulling her children with her.

She turned and walked to the car. After they were safely in the car, Hermione stole one more glance at the tomb stone.

I'm sorry. I love you.

She got into the car, and drove away.

Author's Notes: Wow, if you made it this far: GOOD FOR YOU!

Wow, I hated this. I so totally ignored like everything, but whatever.

There is going to be no—THAT MEANS NO—sequel to this. You are free to choose what happens next.

I wonder if you should even bother to review. Hmm…

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