Disclaimer: JKR owns.
Safe Harbour
Chapter 7: A Friendly Voice
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[A/N] I've been torn on where I wanted to take the trilogy. As I work on it, I see a whole new plethora of opportunities that could be explored, but they're all different from the original draft. What I originally intended for the trilogy is dramatic and suspenseful- as you all should know since I've said so from the start. Part of me wants to see my outline through, while the other is hesitant because I know that I may possibly lose many readers for it.
With that said, I've had like four months to dwell on it. And I've decided that I'm finishing it like I had intended. I apologize now to those of you who might- will- be angry. Just please, give it a shot and remember the warnings I gave you back in the first few chapters of the first instalment.
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The little boy sat in his high chair, clanking a bright red spoon against its matching bowl. He was screaming in delight for his 'da'.
Harry crawled around the corner, a mischievous look on his grinning face, and slowly moved towards the back of the high chair. Meanwhile, the boy had stuck one hand, full of the goo in his bowl, in his mouth and raised the other one to tug at the top of his messy raven haired head.
He looked identical to the baby version of the man crouching behind his seat, except he had bright, beautiful chocolate eyes. His mother's eyes.
Harry popped up from behind the boy with a playful 'boo!'. The boy went into a giggling fit of hysterics as Harry tickled him mercilessly.
"Boys!" a voice admonished lightly. Hermione walked into the kitchen, holding the red spoon that the baby threw away before deciding to feed himself with his hands.
"Uh-oh!" the baby boy jittered, pointing a gooey hand at Harry's head before looking up at Hermione with an innocent smile, "Da!"
"Hey!" Harry yelled, giving his son an appalled look, "Don't point the finger at me!"
"Harry," Hermione started, coming towards the baby with a quid ditch-themed embroided handkerchief, "You're supposed to actually feed him when it's breakfast time."
"MA!" the boy screamed, showing her his gooey hand before sticking it back in his bowl and stuffing another handful in his mouth.
"You were feeding yourself, huh baby?" Hermione asked, cleaning off his right cheek before leaning in to kiss it. He smiled a gummy smile and Hermione looked down adoringly at him.
"See, he was eating. Now do I get a kiss?" Harry asked puckering his lips at Hermione.
Hermione grinned and leaned in. Right as she was about an inch away she turned back to the baby and blew a raspberry on his cheek.
"Ahh!" he giggled in delight as Harry gave her a betrayed look.
"Is that how it is? Him over me?" he asked glancing overdramatically between the boy and Hermione.
"Yup!" the baby answered, popping his lips at the end of the word.
"Yeah?" Harry probed, staring barbarically at him. He looked back to Hermione, trying to hide her smile, "Well I'm not going down without a fight."
"Uh-oh," Hermione said this time as Harry moved to her. Hermione tried to back away, but Harry grabbed her waist and gently tackled her to the ground.
The boy screamed and laughed happily as Harry gave Hermione the kiss he'd been waiting for.
…
Harry watched the small hand of the clock tick off another minute, leaving it at 6:38.
When Hermione passed out, the hospital staff had quickly made a spot for her in a room and began running all the necessary tests for her and the baby to make sure they were both okay. Thankfully, the results came back well and the incident was classified as just a scare. Or, at least, so the staff said.
Harry however knew it was because he apparated her.
Though, as he sat in the small room with her as she slept, he couldn't help but start to think about that spy. He was probably up in surgery right now, with the muggles doing everything they could to keep him alive. Harry had tried to inquire on his condition with the nurses helping Hermione, but of course, they were too preoccupied to check.
He felt like a shit head because he had spent more time dwelling over the bloke then Hermione and his baby. He turned to her and watched her as she lay asleep peacefully in the hospital bed.
He had let her down again.
Harry heard the sound of the door opening and looked up to find a middle aged woman in a white lab coat and a stethoscope around her neck. She carried a thick clipboard and was staring down at it as she closed the door behind her.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Page the resident gynaecologist at the hospital. Our obstetrician was just called to the delivery room, so I thought I'd drop by and check up on Ms. Granger."
Harry nodded absently, not really caring who the woman was as long as she could help Hermione.
"I'm Harry. I'm her boyfriend," he said shaking the doctor's hand politely.
"Well, she's been sleeping for what, about four hours now? I think it'd be safe to wake her and see how she's feeling." Dr. Page reached into her pocket and withdrew two little white sticks.
She placed them underneath Hermione's nostrils, and a few moments later she began to stir awake.
"H-Harry?" she called out, looking blearily around the white room.
Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly, making Hermione turn her eyes to look at him in relief.
"Hermione, my name is Dr. Page. Can you tell me what you can remember before waking up?"
Hermione focused her eyes on the woman, "I-I felt sick."
Dr. Page nodded, "Yes, you passed out-"
"I passed out?!" Hermione asked frantically, "My b-"
"You and your baby are okay Ms. Granger. Please try to relax," Dr. Page carried on gently, "Now, will you be comfortable with me asking you a few questions?"
"What kind of questions?" Hermione answered hesitantly.
"Just some standard routine ones," she reassured her. Hermione nodded before she continued, "So, how old are you Ms. Granger?"
"Nineteen…"
Harry caught the raised eyebrow on Dr. Page's face and the way she clucked her tongue. "And when's the last time you ate?"
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and looked away guiltily, "Um, like yesterday at lunch."
"Ms. Granger that is unacceptable. It is very important that you eat several meals every day! Going six hours without eating is risky, let alone twenty-four!"
"I-I'm sorry we," she looked over to Harry for support but found him sitting silently next to her bed staring at his shoes. His hand let go of hers, "We got preoccupied."
"Well I suggest you make the time to eat if you want your baby to remain healthy," the woman said sternly. As Hermione hung her head in shame, she couldn't help but think that she hadn't even had the baby yet and already she was shaping up to be a terrible mum.
Dr. Page sighed intolerantly and scribbled some notes on her clipboard. "You're personal doctor is Dr. Hammond correct?"
Hermione nodded her head and watched as the woman mimicked her and then continued scribbling, "It's our policy to have her come in and give you the final check up. She'll tell you whether or not she thinks you're fit to leave."
Hermione simply nodded again, not really listening. She briefly wondered why Harry was hiding in the corner. Was he mad at her or something? Her confusion was short lived as her erratic brain suddenly shot back to the image of the small raven haired boy that she had just dreamt about. The image of Harry tickling the boy, giggling outrageously, brought a small smile to her lips.
"Very well," Dr. Page continued, giving Hermione a somewhat disappointed glance as she stared off at Harry, "She'll be here shortly. While you're waiting I'll have the nurse bring the both of you something to eat."
Hermione again nodded and Dr. Page left without further notice. As they sat quietly, alone in the room, Harry still didn't look up to meet her gaze. It gave Hermione more time to study him, study his facial features. He looked immensely surrendered to thought, and a sudden realization hit her as she kept observing. She'd seen that look numerous times before; he was brooding. Harry felt guilty.
"It's not your fault," Hermione blurted out. She prayed for him to finally look at her but he didn't.
"I could have killed it," he eventually said, his lips barely moving.
The word 'it' stung at Hermione's heart. Her shoulders fell, and a new flood of worry flowed through her. That was the first time Harry had ever referred to their baby as an 'it'.
"You had the right intentions, Harry. You were trying to save a life." Hermione hadn't meant for her voice to come out so hoarse. She wished she had some water.
"The life of a wizard who was spying on us," Harry replied mockingly.
Hermione frowned, "What do you mean?"
"His animagus form was a moth. Don't you see how easy it was for them to be keeping tabs on us? All he had to do was fly around and follow us…"
Hermione gaped at his unemotional tone. She didn't know why she hadn't connected the dots while they were still at the flat. She remembered feeling too sick and focusing on trying to stand in their spinning bedroom. Everything else was a blur.
'That's no excuse,' a sickening voice sounded in her head. Hermione gave in to the voice easily. She had always been the most logical girl. By not coming to this conclusion right when it was all happening… sick or not- she felt like she was letting Harry down somehow; a feeling she always hated.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head frantically. She wanted to make sense of the whole thing but she was finding it harder than ever, "But now that he's gone, maybe… maybe…"
"Don't be silly Hermione. These people aren't going to stop their sick mission just because one of their members was accidentally killed," Harry spoke harshly. It seemed like his anger was directed solely at her. Hermione's eyes began to tear.
"Killed? He- he-"
Harry shrugged heartlessly, "He's in surgery. I dunno anything for sure. But you seen him- how could he possibly survive looking the way he did?"
Hermione fell silent, flinching as she remembered the broken body instilled in her mind. Harry was right; only a miracle could make that man survive. And something in the tone of Harry's voice and the look in his eyes made Hermione feel like he wanted just that, "Harry, what'll you do if he does survive surgery?"
Harry gave Hermione a gruesome look, making his intentions obvious.
"Harry-"
"Food's here!" announced a cheery voice, blustering backwards into the room, tugging on a cart in front of her. There were two plain looking styrofoam trays on top of the cart, holding what looked to be meat of some sort, mashed potatoes, grape kool-aid, and a cup of jell-o. Joy.
As Hermione was cringing away from the sight of the food, Harry stood up and edged towards the door.
"You should eat that and then take a nap," he muttered neutrally.
"You're not staying with me?" Hermione asked in shock as he grabbed the door knob.
It didn't even look like he planned on saying a proper goodbye.
Harry froze for a mere instant before replying, "I'm just going to the restroom. I'll be back in a bit."
Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes and slamming herself back on her pillows with her arms folding over her chest. Harry sighed from the door before he walked out, not thinking he could really handle her hormones at the moment.
As much as he tried, he just couldn't wrap his head around Hermione. What he would give to just be able to reach out and hold her against him, but he knew he was undeserving. The image of her passing out, falling over next to that garbage can in front of the hospital, served as a mental block against any comforting he wanted to give to her. So much for vowing to protect her.
And the baby. He shook his head at the mere word. It was hopeless… their baby would be taken from him and he would be destroyed. There was no feasible way around that. Hopefully they would spare Hermione…
He was turning the corner for the loo when a man made him stop. The man was clearly a doctor by the way he stood behind the medical counter and was wearing green scrubs. He was speaking calmly on the phone to someone while writing on a clipboard.
But the reason why this man really made Harry stop was because he looked exactly like Kevin… exactly like the man he and Hermione had found dead just a few hours ago.
"Sure, that'll be fine. If you want to come down and sign those papers tomorrow, I'll be free around 12:30…" the Kevin look-alike was saying with a voice all too similar to the dead man.
Harry frowned mid thought. The text messages. Harry had gotten a text message from Kevin right before they found him dead outside their door. He had received a text message from Kevin last night, the first night that he and Hermione first came into the harsh reality that someone wanted their baby. The same night that a group of wizards jumped him and hurt Hermione…
It was a set up. Those texts weren't from Kevin, they were from them. Somehow, they had targeted Kevin and used him as a means to get to Hermione, him, and the baby. The baby…
Harry didn't realize that he was shaking from the newfound realization. Paranoia was spreading through him like wildfire. They probably had more modes of watching them then he had imagined. It all sort of clicked together with the moth man. But now that he was really thinking about it…
It just wasn't conceivable that that bloke would stay at their apartment all day of everyday. How do you eat as a moth anyway? There had to be more to it than that. Spells, detections of sorts that would work for them to monitor everything they did. Hell, they probably had their mobile's traced and were keeping tabs on all the people Harry and Hermione were in physical contact with. But how could he make sure? If he were to perform a spell to check for anything mysterious… and it turned out they did have monitors recording them… then they'd be in deeper then they were now.
Perhaps… perhaps a device would be less noticeable to any wards they had. But where could he get a dark magic detector in Boston? Or when Hermione was still in the hospitable and these people were still out there?
Could he even take the risk?
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a chubby male nurse in a blue uniform trip over his own feet and drop an accordion folder. After he gathered the strewn papers on the ground, he got up, glanced over his shoulders embarrassedly, and walked off.
Harry's heart skipped a beat after watching the bloke disappear. Something in his mind clicked and he grinned. Of course!
Neville!
…
Harry approached the receptionist sitting behind the counter near the Kevin look-alike. The brunette doctor didn't look up as Harry stopped at the counter, and continued writing aggressively on his clipboard. Harry noted the mobile phone that he had left on the counter, next to a tissue box. Harry put his hand next to the box.
"Um, excuse me I was wondering if Dr. Hammond had arrived yet?" Harry asked politely, looking directly at the receptionist.
The woman clicked around on the computer in front of her, "Yes, actually she just got in with her patient."
Harry smiled, "Thank you." He turned and walked away, quietly stuffing the phone into his jeans pocket as he went.
…
He reached the single unit lavatory in the west wing in record time, and instantly he was locking himself inside and performing a silencio at the back of the door.
Standing in the middle of the loo, he stared down at the small phone, praying that his idea would work. He had heard Mr. Weasley and Charlie talking about this over a Weasley dinner once, and hoped the telephone operator in the Muggle Artefacts office was still there.
Harry gripped his wand tightly, and tapped it against the keypad. "Ministry of Magic, London," he spoke evenly.
The bathroom was silent, seemingly forever. Harry was about to bang his head against the wall hopelessly when finally, the phone lit up.
An aged, wiry voice emitted from the phone, "Ministry of Magic London, this is Opal."
Harry clenched at his hair with one hand and tried to take a steadying breath, "Er, hi. Uh, I-I need to get a telephone number for Neville Longbottom, please."
"Please hold."
Harry stayed fidgeting in the loo as a couple minutes passed. He could barely believe his strategy had actually worked.
The line clicked and Opal's voice returned, "The only person we have on file with that surname is a Mrs. Augustus Longbottom."
"Oh, that's his grandmother. Can I have it please?"
"You're name?"
"Sorry?" Harry frowned, suddenly very anxious.
"It's for logging purposes, dear."
Harry tensed, "Uh, it's… Zacharias Smith…"
Opal didn't sound suspicious at all and a few seconds later, gave Harry Neville's gran's number. After saying a polite goodbye to the old witch, Harry quickly pressed the end button and began dialling again.
As the line began ringing, Harry tapped his foot on the ground nervously. He was still somewhat shaking.
The line swiftly stopped ringing, "HELLO?!"
Harry jerked the mobile away from his ear at the volume, "Um, Mrs. Longbottom?"
"WHO'S THIS?!"
Harry pinched his nose, doing some more quick thinking. The mobile was still dangling a foot away from his ear. "Er, this is Phylip Spore, I'm the author of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. I'm trying to get in touch with your grandson about a business proposal I have for him."
"A business deal?! With Neville?" she asked, her voice still loud but no longer screaming, "Why don't you just owl him?"
"I need to speak with him as soon as possible ma'am…" Harry replied, wishing she would just comply. Mrs. Longbottom was probably the most stubborn, and ornery old lady he'd ever known, so he shouldn't have expected this to be a walk in the park.
"I'll floo him, hold on a tick!"
Harry's breathing escalated uneasily as a couple minutes passed. He held the phone to his ear and could hear the background noise of a fire, some mumblings, and eventually a clearer voice. He could've danced.
"Mr. Spore, this is Neville Longbottom," Neville greeted with an enthusiastic edge to his voice.
Harry was so caught up in his own excitement that he didn't have time to feel a bit guilty about getting his friend's hopes up, "Neville, it's me…"
Breathing stopped on the other end, "Ha-"
"Don't say my name out loud! Can you get away from your grandmother for a minute?"
"Gran? I'm going to talk to Mr. Spore on the porch!" he announced back into the house. Harry could hear the mumble of Augustus's agreement and then the closing of a door.
"Alright, I'm alone. It's so good to hear from you mate," the genuine tone of friendship made Harry feel strange. Almost like he wasn't use to the normalness of his mates back home.
"Yeah, you too Neville. Listen, I need a favour…"
"Anything," Neville answered eagerly.
"I need you to send me some dark magic detectors, and I need them as soon as possible."
"Dark magic detectors? Like what exactly?"
Harry let out a breath and started listing off a few items that would be useful to him, "This is going to sound silly, but I need like, a secrecy sensor, a concealment sweep, a sneakoscope, a dark spell projector, a-a foe-glass…"
"That's a lot of stuff Harry- is this serious?"
"I can't answer your questions right now, but do you think you could do this for me?" Harry asked, truly hoping that Neville would recognize the desperation in his voice.
This was their last hope…
"Of course I can," Neville answered quickly, "I can probably get them to you in an hour if you want me to apparate or floo to you-"
"No, you'll have to send them by owl," Harry interrupted immediately. He was already taking a huge risk by having Neville send him these things- if he had him show up too, well he was sure that would most likely be the end of his friend. Plus, Ron and Ginny had been owling them at their apartment ever since Christmas.
Hopefully, this wouldn't seem too in the norm to anyone who was paying attention.
Neville sounded a little taken aback, "Oh, okay. It might not get there until tomorrow-"
"Just do what you can. I appreciate this Neville," and with that, he hit the red end button, disconnecting the call. He stuffed the phone and his wand back in his jeans pocket before he opened the door and walked out into the corridor, starting back for Hermione's room. This had been the first sign of good news they had had in a while.
Finally, something was going their way.
Awkwardly, Harry tried to feel optimistic, but the ominous cloud hanging over his head and clouding his vision had yet to disperse.
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There's going to be a few more suspenseful chapters after this one, and they'll be paramount to your view on things. Some of you might really be disgusted, some of you might be very intrigued… I'll just guarantee you that it won't be anything you've ever read before. And I promise, it all ends well.
…No pun intended.
REVIEW!!!
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