It was ironic, Hermione thought, that everyone had once told Harry how much he looked like James Potter, and now everyone was telling Harry how much James, his own son, looked exactly like him.
`Except for the eyes' they said. And it was true. Although James had his father's messy black hair and shy smile, his big brown eyes were as different from Harry's vivid green as they could be.
But they weren't Ginny's. And that, Hermione thought, made it all the more ironic. Because the only ones who knew the truth about James, and where he came from, were the only ones able to see the difference between Ginny's light brown eyes, slightly slanted in the corners, and always lengthened when she smiled, and Hermione's sad, deep, dark, round brown eyes.
James made a loud, squishing sound as he smacked his hands together, impatient, and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like "Yuck." Hermione was just kneeling down to play with him again when she smelled the distinct odor of a bad diaper and a large mess.
"Yes, yuck." Hermione agreed with the four month old, scooping him up and taking him in the next room to change him. "You got those brains from me too, I think. Harry probably would've just dealt with the mess without complaining, but we both know how bad it smells, don't we James?" The child giggled and clapped his hands together once again, making Hermione smile, in spite of the mess she knew was coming. If there was one thing she hated about babysitting James, it was the mess he made in his diapers, and he did it quite often.
But if babysitting was the only time she really got to spend with him as a mother, Hermione wasn't too adverse to changing a few dirty nappies. Besides, it gave Harry and Ginny the chance to get out and her the chance to get ready for the baby she knew was growing inside of her. Besides, it wasn't enough work for her to accept payment for taking care of her own child. She and Ron might be struggling a little more than Ginny and Harry, because of the money Harry had inherited from his parents, but she was above accepting money for doing something she wanted to do for free all the time.
She could have been doing it for free all the time, too. Taking care of their child, together, could have happened if she hadn't let the chance slip away. If she'd bothered to speak up…
* * *
She had tried to bring it up to him a million times, but since the night they had actually conceived the baby, things between her and Harry had become awkward. In fact, since she was pretty sure Ginny and Ron knew what had happened that night as well, things between all of her friends had been more than a little tense, and Harry and Hermione hadn't been left alone for more than a few moments together.
She had spent forever thinking up something that would bore Ron and Ginny to the point that both Weasley would leave and let her talk to Harry, and now that she finally had him alone, Hermione had no idea what she wanted to say. Or rather, she knew what she wanted to say, but wasn't sure how to say it.
How does one tell their best friend and secret love that you're engaged to a different man, and at the same time pregnant with said loves' child.
"One doesn't tell their best friend that. One shouldn't GET oneself into this situation to begin with." Realizing that Harry was shooting her an odd look, Hermione finally stopped and sat down on the chair surrounded by a stack of books that had been her pretense for dragging everyone to the library.
Finally, unable to figure out how to begin the conversation, Hermione just handed him the book. He mouthed the words as he read them, just as he always had, and Hermione found herself watching his lips even when she knew she shouldn't be. Unable to leave her hands with nothing to do, she began playing with a loose thread on the edge of her old robe.
"Pregnancy tests and paternity patterns?" Harry asked, puzzled, after reading the entire thing through. "What's going on?"
"I did them. Both of them. After…" She allowed herself to drift off, knowing that he'd make the connection on his own without either of them saying it. None of them had tried saying anything about it for the last several weeks.
Like she had known he would, his lips tightened in the corners of his mouth, and his skin turned a shade paler. "I won't say anything to Ron if you don't want me to, but if he takes after you at all it'll be difficult to cover up. You two don't really look anything alike."
She expected him to deny it. She expected him to demand to see the results of the test herself. She expected him to maybe, at the most, offer money to support the baby, which she knew she and Ron would adamantly turn down. She didn't expect him to say what he said.
"And you're sure?"
"Yes."
"And it's…mine?"
"Yes."
It was a long moment before either of them spoke again, but when he did, he looked her in the eyes as he did it. "I meant what I said. I should have realized so long ago that I-"
"Harry, you were drunk!" She argued, unable to hear him say it again and not act on it.
"That doesn't mean I didn't mean it! If anything, it meant I could say exactly what I felt without thinking about who else it could hurt." He argued. And he meant it, she could tell. His bright green eyes didn't light up like that when he didn't care about something. And he didn't lie.
"It could hurt Ron. And Ginny. And me." She knew as soon as she said it that it wasn't the right thing to say. It more than got across the point she was trying to make- she was already engaged to Ron! And he to Ginny! It would me social suicide to have a love baby with the famous Harry Potter and break of both of their engagements to members of the Weasley family after years of trying so hard to convince the press, the people around them, and their significant others that they didn't feel anything more than friendship for each other.
Too bad they couldn't lie to themselves, Hermione thought. Life would be so much less complicated if she didn't know how much she was lying every time she told Ron how much she loved him too.
But Harry thought she meant that she wouldn't be happy with him. Harry thought she meant that she didn't love him.
And if it was enough to convince him that they couldn't just abandon their fiancée's at the last moment to have a baby together, maybe she shouldn't correct him. Maybe it was better like this, for both of them.
But when he walked away, she said it. The most important thing she'd ever said in her entire life. "I love you too, Harry."
The only thing there to hear her words were the books and shelves of the library, so the words fell silent. And thinking about how much disaster it would have caused if her words had been heard, Hermione swore she would never say them again.
* * *
It had been one of the most logical, intelligent decisions she'd ever made. Harry and Ginny had enough money to raise the baby, and Ginny would let her be in the baby's life as much as she could be. She wouldn't be looked down upon by the rest of society, and both families could live happily ever after.
And she had her own baby coming now. In a few months Ron would be doting on her and her swollen stomach, putting up with wild mood swings and morning sickness just like he had the first time, despite the fact that the child wasn't his. Ron was a good husband, and she knew he'd make an amazing father.
But he wasn't Harry, and this child coming wasn't her first. And it was ironic, she thought, that the first child she had, the one that she'd loved the longest and the most, wasn't even hers anymore.
And then little James looked up at her with her own eyes, his face as angelic as she'd ever seen it, and said "Mummy?"
Yes, Hermione thought. THAT was irony.
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