lost daughter

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 1: Harry Potter

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[AN] I thought, in honour of the new HP movie, I’d post. This is the last instalment of my trilogy. I’ve warned you all that it wasn’t going to be easy, but this is the first step in making it better for our beloved ship.

I do hope you’ll keep an open mind, but most of all, enjoy!

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“Harry?”

Harry Potter froze in the foyer of his home. A guilty feeling rose up in his chest, but he managed to subdue it without making the feeling known. Hearing his wife’s voice, somehow, always did that to him.

Slowly, he turned and peered up at the dark stairwell. He could recognize her thin body standing in the shadows on the first floor landing. “What?” he called back to her. He hadn’t meant to sound so sharp.

He heard a few footsteps and a moment later saw Ginny step into a ray of moonlight coming in through the window opposite, “Where have you been?”

“I had a lot of work to finish at the ministry. Sorry I didn’t make it to dinner.” Yes, he was always sorry.

Ginny narrowed her eyes slightly, “You could have flooed or something…”

Harry raked a distracted hand through his messy black hair, “I forgot.”

“Seems like that’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” he asked confused, turning to her for an explanation. What had he missed? Quickly, Harry ran through a series of birth dates, football games, family dinners, and anything else he thought his wife might’ve been referring to. He was just about to give her another confused look, when his features dawned in realization, “Shit, Gin-”

“I guess filing paperwork for some criminal was more important than our 14^th wedding anniversary.”

Harry sighed. Of all the things to forget, it had to be that. “It’s not like that-”

Ginny scoffed, “Whatever Harry.” Her tone this time made her sound as angry as she rightfully should be. Without another word, Harry watched his wife of now fourteen years stalk up the stairs and disappear down the first floor landing of the expansive Potter home.

Again, Harry sighed. Whatever he did, it always seemed to hurt her. That wasn’t his goal in life. He hadn’t meant to forget. It’s just… he had work to do. And then Ron had invited him out to a party for the Cannons. Of course, he hadn’t planned on staying. He was just going to stop by and say hello, since he hadn’t been able to make it to the Weasley dinner a couple hours prior. He knew that if he blew Ron off again, he’d hear about it from both him and his sister.

Automatically, Harry’s fists clenched at the thought of going by Ron’s little party. A few years back, Ron had made it to Head P.R. manager for the Chudley Cannons. Parties for the team were a common happening. Harry didn’t really like them; loud blokes, usually drunk, bad music, barely dressed girls, crowded rooms, and people staring at his faded scar, wasn’t really his idea of a good time. Ron though, was always in his element. In fairness, he was good at what he did.

But Harry knew for a fact that what had gone on tonight was not a part of his brother-in-law’s job description. Fury flew through him as the scene played over in his head again. He could practically feel his blood boil as he saw once more a short, dark haired young woman approach Ron.

She tapped him on the shoulder, and let her hands fall over his back. Ron turned to her with a familiar grin. The girl leaned up and whispered in his ear… Harry remembered feeling a faint hint of curiosity, but it was blurred by the emotion he felt at what happened next.

The girl, with a cat-like smile on her face, leaned over slightly, and pressed her lips against Ron’s. He didn’t push her away.

Harry couldn’t register any other feeling besides anger, as the unknown girl turned and headed off through the crowd. His anger multiplied tenfold as he watched Ron also turn and follow her.

He let out a steady breath through his nose, forcing himself to break from his reverie. It wasn’t doing any good thinking about it. To be honest, it was taking all of his strength to not go back to that bloody party and beat the living shit out of him for what he was doing.

But how could he?! Why would he even think about that when he had her?

Again, Harry forced himself to calm down. This wasn’t his business. Furious, and thinking about her, all in one night wasn’t going to do anybody any good. He had his own marriage to worry about.

Keeping that thought in mind, Harry took off his black auror robes, and threw them haphazardly in the direction of the open closet beside the front door. Even though his aim was less than adequate, his robes arraigned themselves nicely and slid in between two of Ginny’s travelling cloaks.

As silently as possible, he started up the stairs. He hoped Ginny wouldn’t make it too difficult to apologize tonight. He truly was exhausted from work.

It didn’t take him long to make it to his and Ginny’s room. The door was firmly closed, but with a light wave of his hand, it opened quietly. It closed after Harry slid inside. He could make out Ginny on the right side of their big bed, laying on her side with the covers drawn up to her chin. That definitely wasn’t a good sign.

Harry repressed his sigh as he came further into the room and kicked his shoes off. He began to unbutton his shirt as he sat down on the edge of his side of the bed.

“I’ll make it up to you…” he said, pulling his shirt off a few moments later.

For a minute, Harry wondered if she was going to give him the silent treatment. But then, she spoke, “Are you at least going to be there in the morning to see James and Albi off?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, now setting his wand on his nightstand and slipping out of his trousers. The mention of their sons gave him a bit of hope. Maybe apologizing wasn’t going to be as hard as he thought. Though, the idea that everything was back to normal, their normal, at least, on his home front made him go back to focusing on the Cannons party and what he had witnessed there.

“You know Hermione wasn’t there with Ron tonight either…” Ginny said, rolling on her side and giving Harry a raised look. It was obvious that she was referring to the family dinner at the Burrow earlier that evening.

Harry’s eyes closed for a brief second. He told himself to act natural.

“Why not?” he asked evenly, pulling the covers back and laying down.

Ginny shook her head and shrugged, “Rose said she was at a Hogwarts meeting.”

“Oh.”

“Ron’s not too thrilled that she’s getting a job there,” Ginny continued.

Harry sighed. He didn’t like Ginny’s gossiping. Especially when it concerned Hermione. “I’m sure Ron will get along just fine,” he muttered instead.

Harry expected her to just drop it, but much to his surprise, Ginny scoffed, “I don’t know why she’s so eager to run away from her husband like that.”

“Maybe she feels like she has no other choice,” Harry replied, the picture of Ron and that young, dark haired girl flashing before his eyes once more.

Ginny gave him an irritated look, “Why would she need to choose between being with or away from her husband?”

“Maybe Ron’s already made that decision for her!” Harry burst out. As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted saying them. Wasn’t this not supposed to be any of his business? He couldn’t help it though; he hated the mention of Hermione being the wrong one, when she had never done anything to hurt Ron the way he was hurting her. He didn’t deserve her at all.

Ginny turned to Harry and frowned, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Never mind Ginny,” he sighed after a moment.

Again, Harry thought Ginny might’ve dropped the subject. To his disappointment though, she wasn’t finished, “Well, I don’t think Hermione appreciates what she has.”

“Why are their issues important enough to keep us up at night?”

“Because Harry,” Ginny said, much more loudly, “I don’t want us to get to the point where we’re avoiding spending time with our family.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Hermione’s taking a job so that she can be closer to her kids! What point are you trying to make exactly?”

“It’s just…” she paused, with a mixture of a pained, annoyed, and anxious expression on her face. “Lately it seems like you’ve been working an awful lot.”

Harry closed his eyes, attempting to fight off the guilty swell, but once again failing. “I’ve always worked a lot, Ginny,” he said softly, knowing that their was no excuse he could share with her as to why he was such a vigorous auror, “And that’s to support you, James, and Al.”

Ginny nodded, “I know that, but I feel like we… like we need something new and different.”

“Like what?” Harry asked quietly, trying to keep his suspicion from showing.

Ginny hesitated for a second, “Like… like a baby.”

“What?” Harry asking, sitting up straight. All signs of trying to be gentle were suddenly gone.

“Like a baby, Harry,” Ginny repeated, “I think we should try-”

“What’s wrong with the two kids we have?” Harry asked quickly.

“Nothing!” Ginny answered immediately. “That’s not what I’m trying to get at!” Harry wasn’t trying to imply anything by his question. He knew how excellent of a mother Ginny was to their two boys. She loved them to know end. However, Harry had a feeling of what Ginny was trying to say, and that didn’t make him feel any easier about the conversation.

“Then what are you trying to get at?” he asked again, still wary.

“It’s just that you were always here when James and Albi were younger! And ever since Al went to Hogwarts, you’ve been all about work! If you haven’t noticed, you’ve been getting more distant from us- from me- by the day.”

Harry tried to answer patiently, “Ginny, a baby isn’t going to solve our problems.”

“I’m not saying that it will,” Ginny replied automatically, a pleading tone in her voice, “Bloody hell, is it a crime that I want to try for another baby with my husband? You act like trying to keep our family growing is the worst thing imaginable!”

He couldn’t help but shake his head angrily, “What’s wrong with the family we have? Why can’t you just be happy with us?”

“Because I want a girl, Harry! You’ve always known how important having a daughter is to me!”

Suddenly, without warning, Harry threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed. As quick as he was to move, a worried frown just as swiftly appeared over Ginny’s face, “Harry, where are you going?”

“I refuse to sit here and listen to you go on about how imperfect we are,” Harry muttered angrily, stalking over to his closet and clapping on a light.

Ginny scoffed, “Oh, so you’re going to run away from our problems? Big surprise.” She was trying to sound enticing, but she had to admit, she truly was scared of him leaving.

“Running away isn’t going to fix anything, but neither will having a baby, even if it happens to be a girl,” Harry said, sounding surprisingly rational despite his temper. This was a topic that he and Ginny had been over quite a few times. The question of having another baby always seemed to come back to one ground issue. And plus, Harry didn’t think he could handle the idea of a daughter. He’d never be able to look at her right… “You’re the one who doesn’t seem to understand that we need to fix our problems first before we subject another child to deal with them!”

“When are you going to stick around long enough so that we can work on fixing them?” Ginny shouted, not caring about who she woke up.

Harry didn’t have an answer for her, because by then, he had snatched a new pair of trousers from his wardrobe, and pulled them on along with a new half buttoned shirt. He didn’t bother giving her another look as he grabbed his wand from his night stand and walked out of their room.

Harry was even more furious as he slammed his way out of his house and started off down the walkway. It had been like this nearly every night this summer. He would get home from a long day of work, and would have to listen to Ginny nagging him over what they should be doing better. It always ended like this too; Harry, not wanting to hear it anymore, would leave to the one place he knew that no one would bother him. And then, the next morning he would leave for work, come home, and repeat the process all over again. He knew first hand that making a baby, thinking that he or she would fix your problems, didn’t work. It only masked the issue- shifted the focus onto something, or in this case someone, else.

Harry knew and understood that so well because that is exactly what he had tried to do with James when he first found out that Hermione was pregnant again.

That night stood out especially well in his memory…

~~~

“Harry!” a voice yelled, interrupting the quiet atmosphere.

“What?” Harry asked, hurrying out into the hallway of his flat, his hair still wet from his nightly shower.

“Harry…” Ron gasped, stopping in front of him and doubling over. “Hermione…”

Harry instantly panicked, “Hermione? Is she okay? What’s wrong with her? Ron, tell me!”

“She’s okay. She- she’s…”

Harry shook Ron’s shoulder’s anxiously. Harry hadn’t seen or spoken to Hermione in a couple of months, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about her constantly. He knew it was wrong, since they had both technically moved on, but he couldn’t help it. He thought about her daily, dreaming of a different life where they could’ve been together, happy. The only reason he hadn’t seen her in months, was because he knew that seeing him hurt her. And he couldn’t blame her. He hurt too.

Still, the thought of something being wrong with her, after everything they’d… been through…

“Ron, she’s what?!”

“Pregnant!”

And just like that, Harry’s heart stopped beating.

Time seemed to stand still, as Harry straightened dully, his flattened expression blotched with pain and disbelief. No… it simply wasn’t possible…

“What?” he asked after what seemed like hours of silence.

Ron let out a jubilant laugh, “She’s pregnant! Harry- we’re having a baby! I’m going to be a father!”

“That- that can’t be… She can’t be…”

“I know. I was shocked too. But it’s true; she’s already seven weeks,” Ron said happily, holding up six fingers.

Harry paled, “Seven weeks? When…?”

“Her birthday,” Ron answered, going red around the ears. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, suddenly avoiding eye contact with Harry, “Um, after her party we went back to my place and got a little sloshed…”

“Sloshed?” Harry spat disgustedly, “So you got her drunk and then basically took advantage of her?”

“What?” Ron asked with a shock looked on his face. Harry’s seething expression didn’t relent, so Ron quickly shook his head in defence, “Harry, I didn’t take advantage of her at all! We were both drunk and one thing just led to another.”

Harry couldn’t recall ever feeling so angry at his best friend in his entire life. His fists curled together in fury.

“Harry? Are you still with me mate?” Ron asked hesitantly. A glint of fear brightened his eyes.

At the sound of his voice, Harry seemed to snap out of it, “What?”

Again, Ron shifted, “You look a little… you’re happy for me right? I mean, I know it’s totally unexpected, but I’m happy about it…”

Harry wanted to tell him to piss off. Not everything in bloody world revolved around him! “Is she happy?” Harry asked quietly after a few moments. Intentional or not, he was still glaring.

The red head grinned, “Yeah. She sounded pretty excited.” Little did Harry know however, that Ron was leaving out the fact that Hermione didn’t actually tell him directly. He overheard her mother questioning her about her recent distracted behaviour, and then Hermione pretty much just blurted out that she was pregnant. As soon as Mrs. Granger had left, he called her out on it. To be honest, she had sounded flustered and reluctant to confirm it, but he was sure that was only due to him already knowing.

Ron twisted his lips awkwardly, hoping Harry hadn’t picked up on his lie. After a few minutes of tense silence, he reached out bravely and clapped Harry on the shoulder.

“So… You know what this means, right?”

“What?” Harry asked, though it was obvious that he wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, I’m becoming a father, and you’re becoming a godfather!”

He again snapped back into focus, “What?”

“I want you to be the godfather of my baby!” Ron repeated happily, “I mean, I know it didn’t work out the first time with Teddy, but I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Ron…” Harry breathed, beginning to shake his head. The thought was poison to him. Of course Hermione would feel the same! “Have you asked Hermione about this?”

“What’s there to ask?” Ron shrugged confidently, “You’re our best friend. It’s only right, right?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Well I’m not taking no for an answer. I got to go right now. Hermione thinks I went to get dinner. See you around though, right mate?” Ron had started to back his way out of the hall, and was giving Harry a hopeful thumbs up. Harry felt like going into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and shoving it through his heart, several times. He wasn’t strong enough to endure this. He couldn’t sit back and watch Ron take the place that HE was supposed to have in Hermione’s life.

But then, a thought suddenly struck him. It wasn’t fair to Hermione. She would never be happy if he didn’t accept it. He couldn’t do that to her. After everything he had done to her, he knew she deserved any shot at happiness she got.

“Yeah…”

Ron’s grin grew wider, and then suddenly his eyebrows shot up like he was forgetting to mention something, “Oh, and don’t tell anyone the news yet. I wasn’t even supposed to say anything. My mum will freak if she heard the news from someone else.”

“I won’t,” Harry muttered, barely listening.

“Later then!”

As Ron left, Harry fell back against the wall, feeling a once familiar, stabbing, desperate, yet hopeless pain. He hadn’t revisited this pain in a while now.

Hermione was pregnant. Again. And Ron was the father. They- they’d had…

She’d only been back for three months! Harry couldn’t even think straight as he levied himself off the wall and reached for his jacket. If Hermione could be so quick to move on and sleep with someone else, then he wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty for doing the same thing. He truly couldn’t sit and watch Ron take the spot he wanted with Hermione. He refused to sit back while Ron made the family he should’ve had with her.

Harry wanted a family of his own, and for once, he was determined to make it happen.

He apparated to the Burrow. There was a sudden knock on Ginny’s door. Startled, Ginny went to answer.

“Harry?” she asked, pulling back the door to see her boyfriend.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, not caring how much of a mess he must’ve looked to her.

“What-” she was cut off as his lips crashed down to hers.

It was minutes before Harry pulled back. But when he did, he didn’t step back from her like he normally did. Instead, he kept his hands planted on her cheeks, and stared down into her eyes, “I think… I think we should take our relationship to the next level.”

“Really?” she whispered, her eyes going wide.

Harry didn’t want to pay attention to her question. So instead, he simply nodded, “Yeah.”

“I love you, Harry,” Ginny whispered, a smile playing on her lips.

Harry nodded gruffly. It was a moment before he realized that he hadn’t responded. He cleared his throat, “Love you too.”

“Then show me. Make love to me.”

Harry didn’t hesitate as he kissed her again and pushed her further into her room.

~~~

Harry sighed as he closed his eyes and let a hand scrub over his face. Reliving the first time he and Ginny had slept together never made him feel good, like it probably should’ve. She didn’t know that he went into it with an ulterior motive, or that he was actually in love with someone else at the time. Nine months later, they had welcomed James Sirius Potter into the world.

Though, despite the lack of romance and love in his marriage, he could never bring himself to regret what he’d done. Regretting that, meant that he’d regret his sons, and those two boys were his sole purpose in life. He didn’t have much else to live for without them.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry made sure nobody was watching him before he apparated away.

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I’m ready for your flames. Just keep in mind that this is portkey.

If you have any questions, please drop them in a review and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

Feedback and constructive criticism always motivates me to update, for those of you who did like it!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 2: Hermione… Weasley…

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[AN] Thanks for the so far positive feedback. The amount of reviews were AMAZING last chapter. Please keep it up. I really appreciate it, and it makes me want to update more quickly to continue to hear your opinions.

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Hermione sat in the back row of the Great Hall, slightly slumped in her leather chair and staring sleepily up at Headmistress McGonagall as she gave the rest of the Hogwarts professors the start of term overview. Her quill and notepad were lightly gripped in her hand while some of the other professors scribbled away on their Hogwarts stationary, making sure not to forget any of the Headmistress’s aims and important mentions.

She knew she shouldn’t be acting so lackadaisical on her first day of technically being a professor. But she couldn’t help it. She was bloody exhausted. And plus, McGonagall hadn’t quoted anything vital during her speech. It was just a rant about positive lesson-building, and how to handle students. She’d remember it. The only interesting thing so far was that students were now permitted to travel to Hogsmeade on Sundays as well. She knew a few kids who would definitely be excited about that.

“Which brings us to our last order of business,” McGonagall continued in her high ringing voice. Except for the remaining of her brown hairs turning to white, sixteen years hadn’t changed the woman at all. “This year Hogwarts will be getting an exchange student from North America. The Dean of Avalon Academy of Magic has reached out to me personally with the student’s case and I have agreed on behalf of the school to accept. The student will be arriving on the boats with the first years, and shall be sorted as everyone else is. Now, are there any questions on the topics discussed tonight?”

Hermione expected at least someone to inquire further about this new student, but since everyone else was staying quiet, she did as well.

“Okay then. That ends tonight’s meeting. I’ll see all of you tomorrow at the feast.”

Hermione didn’t hurry to pack up her blank notepad and other materials sitting underneath her comfortable chair. As tired as she was, she was in no rush to be getting out of the school. To be quite honest, she wished that the house elves were done preparing Hermione’s room so that she could just stay here tonight.

Glancing down to her muggle wrist watch- charmed so that it would work at the school- she noticed how late it actually was. Surely, her kids would be in bed by now. However, with Ron, she wasn’t so sure about.

The last thing she wanted to do tonight was get in another argument with him. So why not just skip out on the possibility completely?

An idea hit her with where she could go, and with renewed vigour she started packing her things a little more optimistically. Hopefully she could get a decent night’s sleep tonight, since she hadn’t over the past few weeks.

…

Harry hadn’t moved for the past fifteen minutes. He had no desire to. Right now, he just wanted to sit on the porch swing and stare out onto the beach. It was a more peaceful atmosphere than anything he’d been living in the past couple months.

He knew he should be thinking of ways to get back into Ginny’s good graces, but he was sick of always having to apologize. What he said was what he felt. He didn’t want another baby with her. It wasn’t because he wouldn’t love another child, it was because he didn’t love…

He sighed. He wished he could turn his brain off. For one night, that’d be nice. To not have to think about his problems with Ginny, or Ron, or-

“What are you doing here?”

Harry’s head jerked so fast in the direction of Hermione’s voice, his neck audibly cracked. Hermione winced at the noise, before levelling a curious look at him. It was similar to how she used to look at him. Gentle, but interested.

Harry swallowed tensely, “What are you doing here?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, “I asked you first.”

Harry automatically lowered his eyes in embarrassment. He didn’t have a right to ask her- this cottage belonged to her, technically. During the summers, Ron liked to invite him, Ginny, and the boys down for a few weeks. Harry liked it here… and that had nothing to do with the fact that it reminded him of her. He just liked the peace and quiet.

“I just… needed some time alone,” he finally answered her after a minute.

“Oh,” Hermione nodded. Silence engulfed them. Hermione shifted nervously on her feet, clutching her briefcase in her hands. Harry went back to staring back out over the dark beach.

“Did… never mind,” Hermione muttered after a few minutes. Harry looked up to her and saw that her cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. His brow furrowed in curiosity.

“What?” he asked quietly.

Hermione glanced awkwardly at him, “Did you and Ginny have another fight?” Harry wasn’t supposed to know that she knew about how much he and her sister-in-law fought.

Harry was silent for a moment, staring up at her. He blinked once, before looking away from her and nodding, “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hermione surprised herself with the question. She and Harry didn’t really talk anymore. Beyond the casual hello, they didn’t talk in depth like they used to when they were kids. To be honest, it was quite awkward whenever they were left alone together. The elephant had only gotten bigger with the years. What advice could she truly give him? She was having enough relationship problems of her own.

Harry let out a deep breath. For a second she wondered if he would just say no, but then he started to speak, “She thinks having another baby will make us love each other more.”

Hermione instantly regretted her offer to talk. Quietly, she turned away, “And what do you think?”

“That it won’t,” he muttered flatly.

With a light sigh, she nodded, “I’ll have to agree with that.”

“So what are you doing here?” Harry asked, turning to her.

Hermione shrugged, looking to the ground where she kicked at some sand on the porch, “I don’t know… I just got out of my meeting and everything. I figured I’d just come here after.”

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to go home to Ron…”

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked sharply.

Harry recoiled. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. He was still unsure if he should even tell her or not. At least, he knew she deserved to know. But how would she take it from him?

“Nothing,” he muttered timorously, “It’s, uh, pretty cool that you’re going to be a professor.” Perhaps changing the subject away from the dark waters they were heading was the best idea right now.

Hermione shoulders fell slowly, but she was still looking quizzically at him, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Even though the boys aren’t too enthralled about it,” Harry muttered with a grin.

Hermione let out a laugh, “Hugo almost cried when I told him. He thinks I’m only going there to ruin his first year.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Hope so.”

Harry looked up at her, his smile still hinted on his lips. The topic now was easy enough- almost comfortable. But for some reason, he couldn’t help himself. Was he the only one who thought she had ulterior motives for getting a job there?

“So why are you really going there?” he asked after a few quiet moments.

Hermione frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Just that…” Harry sighed. She didn’t bite, so maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. What if he was just assuming things? It was better just to leave it be than to have Hermione angry with him too. “Never mind. It’s not my place.”

“It really isn’t,” Hermione said, the hard expression back on her face.

Harry cleared his throat and nodded. He should’ve known better. “I guess I should go if you want to stay here. It is your guy’s cottage after all.” He stood up from the porch swing, and swiped at his trousers. He’d do anything to avoid looking her in the eyes.

Hermione shook her head suddenly, “No Harry, you can stay. I should be getting home anyway, make sure Rose and Hugo are up in the morning…”

Harry glanced up, almost unsure to believe what she’d just said. They looked at each other, both carefully analyzing, before Harry nodded slowly, “Alright.”

“Good night Harry,” Hermione said quietly, backing away towards stairs.

Harry nodded gruffly, “Good night ‘Mi- Hermione.”

…

With a soft ‘pop’, Hermione appeared into the foyer of her family’s home. Without waiting, she let out the shuddering breath she’d wanted to release ever since seeing Harry sitting miserably on the porch of her parent’s old beach house.

She had no idea that Harry went there when he and Ginny were having problems. Was tonight the first time? No- he looked right at home, sitting there on the porch. Happy, almost. This was the first night that she had tried to escape from being at home. Maybe that explained the run-in.

Hermione closed her eyes in humiliation as their conversation washed over her again. The comments he made… it was like he knew, or something. Bloody hell, was she that obvious?

With a slight shake of her head, she knew that wasn’t the reason for it. Even though they didn’t talk nearly as much, that didn’t mean she thought Harry couldn’t still see straight through her. Harry had always been able to tell when something was wrong with her. She solved that minor dilemma by avoiding him by all means. Tonight was the first night they had been all alone in a very long time, and he knew something was out of the ordinary.

But what did it matter? Even if he suspected something was up, what could he do about it? He wouldn’t confront Ron and ask if something was wrong with them. First of all, he and Ron never talked about their relationship, and secondly, Ron had been complaining of how much Harry had been working for the past few months. Even he didn’t see him that much. He might ask Ginny, but by the looks of it, they didn’t have a conversation that stretched outside of their marital issues. Plus, Ginny wouldn’t have a clue. It’s not like Ron broadcasted the truth to his family, or anything.

Hermione let out a sigh, her hopes for a good night’s rest completely dashed. It was getting late though, so she might as well make the best of it. With a bit of reluctance, she started up the creaking stairs of the house that had been her home for the past fourteen years.

Once she was at the top, she made her way towards the right of the hall first, out of habit. The door there was slightly ajar, and had the light of a multicoloured lamp shining through the space. Hermione didn’t bother knocking as she pushed it open a bit and gazed in on her youngest.

Hugo was sprawled out over his bed asleep, with his mouth wide open and gentle snores rippling from his chest. Hermione couldn’t help but smile as she watched him from the door. The picture looked all too familiar; his unmanageable red hair matched the walls splattered with orange posters of the Chudley Cannons perfectly. There was a murky tank off in the corner of his room with a single gold fish swimming around monotonously, and the trunk at the end of his bed was spilling over with wizarding toys that he’d collected throughout the years. Already, he seemed to be outgrowing his new pair of pyjamas.

Quietly, Hermione made her way through the room and pulled up the duvet bunched up at the end of his bed, over his sleeping body. She kissed him gently on the forehead before turning and clicking off the football lamp her father had given him for his last birthday.

Making sure not to trip over the clutter, she made her way back to the door, and into the hall. Her next stop was a bit further down, but after only a few steps she realized she wouldn’t have to be so quiet for her.

This time, the door was open, spilling her lamp light all the way into the hall. Hermione stopped at the edge of her daughter’s room.

Her kids were polar opposites. Where Hugo’s room was filled with quidditch things and impractical toys from Uncle George, Rose’s room was a perfect imitation of Hermione’s when she was her age. A solid wall of bookshelves took up the opposite side of the room. Beyond that, it was all neatly organized, giving way to a few select pictures of her family sitting on her desk.

Hermione could make out Rose’s read hair sticking out from the edges of a large book sitting on top of her chest as she laid in bed. She watched her for a moment, before knocking lightly on the door frame.

Immediately, Rose moved to peer around the book. She smiled when she saw her mother, “Mum?”

Hermione smiled back, coming further into the room and sitting down on the edge of her bed, “What are you still doing up?”

“Summer reading assignment…” Rose answered, with a little shrug.

“Oh,” Hermione replied, watching as she marked her page and closed the book. She set it beside her before sitting up.

“How was the meeting?” she asked in interest. Despite the boys’ displeasure, Rose was actually quite happy that her mum would be joining them at Hogwarts this year. She always missed her the most out of the nine months that they were separate.

Hermione pulled her cheek back, “It was… definitely interesting. It made me feel old, sitting in there with some of my old professors.”

“Mum, you’re only 35,” Rose said an assuring smile.

Hermione quirked her eyebrow, “Almost 36.”

“Still. I think it’s pretty awesome that you’re a professor that young.”

Hermione smiled genuinely, “Thanks baby. You want to know something cool?”

“What?”

“McGonagall has agreed to include Sundays in Hogsmeade weekends.”

Rose grinned knowingly, “I bet you Sirius will be the most thrilled about that, seeing as this year will be his first time visiting the village.”

“I’m sure that boy has snuck in before,” Hermione answered indifferently.

Rose laughed, “You’re probably right. What else happened?”

Hermione tilted her head back and forth for a moment before remembering the other interesting topic, “Oh, and Hogwarts is getting an exchange student from North America.”

“Really?” Rose asked curiously.

Hermione nodded, “Yep, but Professor McGonagall didn’t say if it was a boy or a girl, or what year they were in.”

“That’s cool,” Rose said, “Hogwarts has never had an exchange student before, huh?”

Hermione shrugged impassively, “I’ve never heard of one, but I’m sure it has.”

“I hope they’re nice, whoever they are,” Rose muttered, with a wistful look.

Hermione nodded before giving her daughter a dubious look, “So did I miss anything at Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

Rose shook her head in obvious disinterest, “Not really. Hugo got mad that he wasn’t allowed to fly by himself, even though Dad said he could. Grandma grabbed him in time though. She said if you found out about it, that you’d murder Dad.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t have to kill anyone tonight,” Hermione muttered wryly. All kidding aside, even the mental picture of Hugo up on a broom by herself made her anxious. She probably would’ve wrung Ron’s throat if he had allowed him to go up by himself.

Rose let out a laugh, “Other than that, James and Albi ran around with Uncle George all night long playing pranks, Abby cried like eight times throughout the night because Uncle Percy didn’t let her bring her pygmy puff, and Vicky painted her nails and bragged to the rest of us about how many boys she’d gotten it on with this summer…”

Hermione raised her eyebrows in faux enthusiasm, “So pretty uneventful?”

Rose smiled, “I guess. Uncle Harry wasn’t there though…”

Hermione forced herself to keep her expression from faltering, “I’m sure he had a lot of work to take care of.”

“Yeah,” Rose agreed easily before turning back to Hermione. She gave her mother an inquisitive look, “Has Dad been having to do extra work at the office? It seems like lately he’s been really busy at work too.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. It took a moment, but eventually Hermione look away and cleared her throat, “Yeah, he’s been busy…”

“I think he’s mad that you’re going to be staying at Hogwarts this year,” Rose muttered timidly, almost afraid to broach the topic.

Hermione frowned. She hadn’t told either of her kids about her decision to stay in a teacher’s quarters at Hogwarts yet, “How’d you know about that?”

Rose glanced awkwardly to the corner of her room, before giving her mother a sheepish look, “Uh, Dad let it slip at dinner.”

Hermione closed her eyes, a frustrated sigh unwillingly emanating from her chest, “Great…” she mumbled.

Rose twisted her bed spread nervously in her fingers. She wasn’t sure if it was entirely appropriate to ask her mum this, but she was curious as to the behaviour she’d observed from her over the past few weeks. “Mum? Are you and Dad, like, having problems?”

“We’re fine Rose,” Hermione responded automatically.

Rose bit her lip, “You would tell me though, right? I mean, I’m almost sixteen.”

“You just turned fifteen,” Hermione corrected her, “Please don’t remind me how old you’re getting…”

“Am I old enough to be a confidante?” she asked next, a hopeful glint in her eye.

“Confidante?” Hermione repeated with a frown, “Who would you need to be a confidante to?”

Rose shrugged innocently, “You.”

Hermione gave her daughter a probing look, “Rose, I promise that if there’s anything you needed to know about your dad and I, I would tell you.” Hermione hoped Rose’s perception was blurred, maybe by the late hour, or by her tiredness. For a fifteen year old, she was awfully observant of people’s moods and behaviours. And Hermione just wasn’t ready to tell her everything she knew. Why upset her now when she’d have a semester at Hogwarts to think about how she’d explain it? It wasn’t worth the drama now, and as a fifteen year old girl, there were much more important things she should be concerned about instead.

It took a few moments, but eventually Rose nodded and gave her mum a sleepy smile, “Okay. I believe you.”

“Good. Now, you should get to sleep,” Hermione said, taking the book next to her and setting it on her nightstand.

“I already have my trunk ready for tomorrow though,” Rose protested, her eyes following the book.

“Well, it’s going to take two of us to wake Hugo up in the morning. You can’t leave me to do that all by myself.”

Rose sighed in defeat, “You make a fair point.”

“Goodnight love,” Hermione smiled, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

Rose kissed her back before falling against the pillows, “Night Mum.”

Hermione gave her one last smile before snapping her fingers, and diminishing the light from the room.

…

Hermione jumped as another loud snore sounded through the room. She shot a glare at Ron from her closet, as he laid asleep on their bed. He was still dressed in his party robes, and hadn’t moved a muscle when Hermione came in and turned on the lights to get ready for bed. Looks like it was going to be another uncomfortable night sleeping in the guest bedroom for her.

She sighed, ripping her eyes away from the man she was married to. She didn’t know how she’d explain it to her kids that she was leaving Ron. Honestly, she’d only just come to terms with it herself. When the position at Hogwarts opened up, it was like a sign from God telling her that she needed to go.

The talk with Harry kept running through her mind. It was hard to talk to him like they were old friends. The last honest casual conversation they’d had alone like that was over fifteen years ago. Hermione closed her eyes, remembering the days she’d considered the worst of her life…

~~~

“How long have you been back?” Harry asked her, a harsh look starting to form in his emotional eyes. The loud music and boisterous yells from inside the party at Seamus and Dean’s flat were making it hard to stare into them, but Hermione knew that if she looked away, he would lose it.

So she bit her lip and shrugged, “Only about a week.”

“Where’d you go?” he questioned brusquely.

Hermione closed her eyes for a brief second. She knew that this wasn‘t going to be easy. But she owed him this- an explanation, if that’s what it was. “I was in France for most of the time. My family has a flat in Paris.”

“You know, you could’ve been fucking dead for all I knew…”

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, “I know, but I’m not dead.”

“I could’ve been dead,” Harry continued, taking an angry step forward, “But you obviously didn’t care to know that.”

She shook her head, suddenly feeling the need to defend herself. She knew that what she had done was unforgivable, but still, she couldn’t handle him thinking that she simply didn’t care anymore, “Harry, I- I haven’t been… normal… for the past few months. I haven’t given any focus to anyone. Except,” she finished mutantly, tears instantly pricking her eyes.

Harry opened his mouth to respond. He wanted to tell her everything; that they should’ve gone through that together, that he hadn’t been normal either, that he still wanted her…

However, no matter how much he wanted to tell her all that, no words came out.

“So you’re with Ginny now?” Hermione asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I-I…” Harry stood there, fumbling like a fish out of water for a moment before he finally shook his head and gave her a narrowed look, “You said you didn’t want to be with me! I waited, but-”

“Harry, I’m not asking for an explanation from you. I’m glad that you’re with Ginny. I’m happy that you’re… moving on…”

“Are you moving on?” Harry asked, giving her a penetrating stare. All he needed was one hint that she still loved him, and he would leave Ginny in an instant to be back with her. The truth was that no matter how much he liked Ginny, he could never love someone else the way he loved Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip. Harry was just about to ask if that was a sign of hesitation before she nodded, “Yeah… I think I am…”

“With Ron?” he asked numbly.

Hermione shrugged. Now she really couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes, “I didn’t expect for him to be this good to me, you know? He- he knows how to put a smile on my face. I think I need that right now.”

Harry wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell her that being in a relationship was more work than just having the ability to make the other smile. What happened to Ron and Hermione fighting like cats and dogs all of the time? Now it was that he was making her smile?

Personally, Harry thought she was being naïve. Ron would never be able to handle all the shit they went through. Ron could never get to know her on the level he knew her.

“But Harry?” Hermione spoke quietly after a few seconds.

“What?”

“I-I…”

“What?” he asked again, this time softly.

Hermione scuffed her shoe on the pavement, “It’s just… now that I’m back, and we’ll be seeing more of each other… I-I’d like for us to try and be friends again.”

“Friends?” Harry repeated. They’d always been friends, but now the word tasted like poison to him.

Hermione bit her lip again, “Please.”

Harry scoffed under his breath, turning to look off into the distance, “Yeah. Friends…”

~~~

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering that night sixteen years ago. She’d been so nervous to see him that night, especially with the ulterior knowledge that he and Ginny were seeing each other. The whole friends plea truly came out of nowhere… but it didn’t matter anyway. They’d never worked to make that agreement come true.

And that was the sad reality. Harry and Hermione were not friends. They were simply married to a brother and a sister. Their kids were cousins. That was as far as their relationship went.

Hermione let out another sigh as she reached into the bottom of her dresser drawer and pulled out the small three by four picture, charmed for her eyes only.

Though, it would be a lie if Hermione said that she hadn’t wished for things to be different back then.

---

Again, I hope it was bearable. If it’s not clear already, then I’d like to assure you that even though they’re married, their won’t be tons of H/G, Hr/R interaction. Next chapter’s Hogwarts!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts

---

[AN] Thanks for the support! It really does help motivate me to update.

---

Hugo ripped his hand out of his mother’s grasp for what must’ve been the thousandth time that morning. Hermione shot her son a sheepish smile as he gave her yet another irritated look.

“Mum, stop! People are going to think I’m a first year,” Hugo groaned, squaring his shoulders and giving his mother a defiant look. Despite the uncanny resemblance to Ron, he looked quite like Hermione doing so.

She raised her eyebrow, “Love, you are a first year.”

Hugo glanced from side to side of the crowded platform, hoping that no one had heard her and trying to come up with a quick comeback. After a minute though, he gave her another frustrated look, “Don’t say that word so loud!”

Hermione rolled her eyes calmly, and opted to put her hand on his shoulder while starting to push him forward again. She turned back to Rose standing beside her, thankful that she hadn’t bothered to comment on her brother’s impudence, and nodded her forward as well. Rose sent her a little smile in understanding, and started to push her way through the thick crowd of hugging parents and students. She was appreciative that they had already sent their trunks to be loaded onto the train. It would’ve been hell trying to push a trolley through the mass of bodies.

Despite the chaos around them, Hermione couldn’t help but smile proudly at Rose, who had her new prefect’s badge pinned to the front of her robes already. While her appointment may have gone overlooked by the rest of the Weasley’s (Victoire had been named head girl this year, and James was now the youngest Gryffindor quidditch captain in over five decades), Hermione was the most proud of her daughter’s achievement. No one deserved it more, in her opinion.

“I wonder if James and Al are here yet…” Hugo said once they reached the train, searching throughout the families to see if his cousins were somewhere about.

“I’m sure they’re around here somewhere, Hugh,” Ron told his son, looking around in a similar fashion.

Hermione chanced a look back to her husband, a bit annoyed that now he’d put in a few convincing words. She was up bright and early trying to make sure Rose and Hugo were all set and ready to go. Rose hadn’t required much assistance, but between trying to get Hugo out of bed, packing his things, arguing with him over whether or not he could hide his broom in his trunk, making breakfast, and trying to shuffle Ron out of bed as well, it would’ve been nice to have had his help then. It was frustrating beyond belief to see that now he had found his energy.

With a short sigh, she turned back to her children, bending slightly so Hugo could hear her better, “Alright you two, be good on the train. Rosie, make sure your brother doesn’t get lost or in trouble-”

“Come on, Hermione, let the kid have his fun,” Ron interjected haughtily, sending Hugo an indiscrete wink. Hermione was in the middle of giving him an incredulous glare, when Ron cut her off as something further down the platform caught his eye, “Hey, I see Oliver. Be right back honey.”

Hermione ignored him as she turned back to Hugo. “I’ll be fine, Mum,” he assured her, giving her an exasperated look.

Hermione nodded, knowing that if she said anything else on the matter, her son would probably lose his patience entirely. Instead, she straightened and turned to her daughter, “Rose, you have some money for the trolley?”

“Yep, we’re all set.”

“Why can’t I hold on to the money?” Hugo protested, stomping his foot.

“Because,” Hermione answered curtly.

“That’s not an answer!”

Rose couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. Her brother’s whining was something she’d learned to ignore over the years, but she had trouble doing so when he was acting like a spoiled brat, “Hugo, you’ve either lost or swindled away all of the money you’ve ever been given. That’s why.”

“Shut up Rose!” he shouted angrily at her, his ears now a shining red.

“You shut up-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hermione interposed with a warning tone in her voice, “You better go get yourself a compartment before they’re all taken up.”

Hugo smirked, again looking at his sister, “Yeah Rosie. You better go save yourself an empty one since you have no friends to sit with.”

Rose’s irritated glare flattened over into a dejected expression. Hermione knew his comment had hurt her, and immediately she decided she’d had enough.

She bent, leaning towards Hugo with a dangerous glint in her eyes, “I can give you a detention Hugo. Or, I can tell the troll you’re going to have to battle to be extra rough…”

Her threat worked instantly as her son’s face drained of colour, “Mum-”

“Go say goodbye to your father,” Hermione cut him off, pointing down the platform in Ron’s direction while not breaking eye contact, “I’ll see you two tonight at the feast.”

“Fine,” Hugo grumbled, clearly disappointed that he hadn’t been given the chance to convince his mother to renounce her threat. Without another word to his mum or sister, Hugo hurried off in the direction Ron had went.

Straightening up, Hermione watched him go, wanting to make sure that he didn’t make any detours. After a couple of moments, she sighed and turned back to Rose.

“I’m sure someone will already be in the prefect’s cabin if you want to head straight there,” she suggested gently. She didn’t want Rose to think that she was being sympathetic towards her, but she also didn’t like the idea of Rose sitting alone for six hours. Rose’s reserved nature was another thing she had inherited from mother. And even though Hermione loved her daughter the way she was, she understood that other kids didn’t take on as well to her bookish behaviour.

Rose sighed, “I’ll be fine Mum.”

Hermione nodded understandingly. She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Rose’s ear, “I’m proud of you, love. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye,” Rose mumbled, heading off in the same direction as Hugo to say goodbye to her father.

Hermione watched her go, hoping that Ron wouldn’t say anything to make it worse for her.

…

Harry let his waving hand drop to his side after the Hogwarts Express disappeared from view. He couldn’t believe that his oldest son was already going into his O.W.L. year. Time really did seem to fly by once you got older. It seemed like it was only yesterday when he was introducing James to his first broom, and now look at him. Youngest quidditch captain in over fifty years. And Al, already heading into his third year…

Harry sighed to himself, letting the nostalgic smile slip off his face. Now that his boys were gone, it was back to reality. That sadly didn’t hold any apparent happiness for him.

With his expression a bit more sullen, Harry turned, ready to find Ginny and head home. He needed to get back to the office so he could finish the paper work he offered to do while Belby was on holiday…

His thoughts were interrupted as angry voices broke into his reverie. He slowly turned to his right, realizing that they were coming from behind a stone pillar standing off in the deserted corner of the platform. He didn’t bother to resist the lure that pulled him towards the fighting voices. Something about them sounded awfully familiar.

He made it to the blockade within a few strides. He wondered for a moment if he was intruding on someone’s privacy, but then he brushed the thought off. His curiosity got the better of him, and as nonchalantly as possible, he moved to glance around the corner.

“Ron, I don’t have time to discuss this right now-”

“I’m not letting you go until you let me explain!”

“You’re not letting me go? You don’t own me Ronald,” Hermione spat, her face as vivid red as his hair, “And there’s nothing for you to explain- I know what I saw.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what fight he was eavesdropping on. So she did know. Harry felt quite satisfied that he didn’t have to worry about telling his once best friend about her husband’s infidelity anymore. Even more, he felt quite… proud… that she was standing up to him. And despite this settling feeling of gratefulness and such, it didn’t satiate his curiosity to hear more.

“Sweetheart, that wasn’t what it looked like-”

“No, I’m sure both your trousers disappeared on accident and you two just fell into that position…”

“Stephanie jumped me! I was shocked and by the time I figured to do something about it, you-”

“That’s the best excuse you could come up with?” Hermione cut him off, raising an amused eyebrow. Harry wondered what she found funny about this situation, but forgot about it as Ron shook his head.

“Hermione, I love you. This is just a small set back. I’m sure if you just decide to stay at home we can work on our relationship while the kids are at school.”

This time, Hermione was the one shaking her head, “That’s just it Ron, I’m sick of being the only one that tries. I refuse to keep ignoring our failing marriage.”

“Oh so this is all my fault?!” Ron shouted, suddenly angry. Harry’s fist clenched instinctively, “You want to act like you don’t keep secrets from me?”

Hermione glared, “I’m not the one who cheated, now am I?”

“You want to destroy our family over something as minor as that? The kids will never forgive you for it, you know.”

Anger coursed through him as Ron finished his sentence. Harry couldn’t listen anymore. The nerve of him to turn the situation on her and play the victim! The bastard should be on his hands and knees begging for Hermione to take him back!

Without thinking, Harry called out, “RON!”

Both Ron and Hermione turned around with startled and confused looks. Hermione instantly paled when she saw Harry staring at them.

The raven haired wizard panicked for a brief second. His impulse hadn’t given way to a plan, but after a moment, he cleared his throat roughly, “Er, didn’t you say you had to be getting to work at eleven? It’s 11:10.”

“I-I…” Ron spluttered, still staring in shock at Harry. Finally his shoulders sagged as he appeared to sigh, “Yeah. We’ll talk about this later,” he muttered, turning back to Hermione.

Harry was thankful that he didn’t try to touch her. He didn’t think he would’ve been able to keep his cool if he’d had to see that.

“Have fun at work,” Hermione told him levelly, in a polite tone. Even though her voice was clear of it, Harry could see the sarcasm in her eyes. Ron shot her a look before turning. He didn’t look at Harry as he walked away.

As soon as he was lost amongst the midst of the departing throngs of parents, Hermione nervously glanced back to Harry. She wasn’t surprised to see him still giving her a penetrating stare.

Fortunately, Hermione wasn’t forced to say anything to smooth over the awkward tension, because Ginny walked up to Harry a second later.

“Merlin, Lee can be way too talkative sometimes… Hermione, you’re still here?” Ginny asked, giving the brunette a confused look.

It took a second for Hermione to tear her eyes away from Harry. She looked back to Ginny edgily, “Oh, yeah…”

Ginny smiled kindly, oblivious to the tension between her husband and sister-in-law, “Do you have time to join us for brunch or anything before you head off?”

Almost too quickly, Hermione shook her head, “Sorry Gin, but I need to be getting to school. I’ve got lessons to prepare and things…”

“Well, try and take an easy on the students this year, Professor,” Ginny told her, giving her an impish grin. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. Just last night, she was giving Hermione shit for going to Hogwarts.

Hermione gave her a half-hearted smile. “We’ll see. Bye Ginny… Bye Harry,” she added, her eyes timidly meeting his. Harry didn’t give any impression that he heard her, only continued to bore his eyes into hers, hoping to see through the walls she’d built up over the years.

Hermione recognized his gaze, and immediately tore her eyes away from him. She knew he’d have questions, but she was in no way ready to answer them.

Ginny smiled and waved at her, while Harry only continued to stare. Itching to escape, Hermione moved past them and hurried off through the crowd as quickly as possible.

…

“James! Al!” Hugo exclaimed, pulling open the door to the compartment that his favourite cousins were sitting in. Rose waited nervously behind her brother, unsure whether she should wait to see if her cousins would want her to sit with them, or continue on in search for her own compartment.

James turned away from the pretty girl he was currently talking to, and smiled up at the pair of them, “Hey Hugo, hey Rosie.”

“Hi guys,” Rose replied, less exuberantly than her brother, but happy to see them all the same.

“Care to join us?”

Rose hesitated for a only a second before nodding, “Sure. Everywhere else is full.”

Rose could feel the eyes of the two other girls in the compartment staring at her as James scooted aside so that she could sit down. This was the reason she’d been hesitant to enter. She didn’t know if Karina Edgecombe and Harleen Watermouth purposefully tried to make her feel unwelcome, or if it was just their natural ability to. Whatever the case though, she always felt uncomfortable around them; like she was being placed under a microscope, waiting to be picked apart.

“You don’t even know how excited I am to get there and learn all the secret passages…” Hugo said excitedly, plopping down next to Albus.

The red-haired Potter tossed aside the comic he had been reading, and shared a conspiratorial grin with him, “James nicked the Marauder’s Map from Dad’s office a couple weeks ago.”

Hugo’s eyes bugged out, “Really?!”

“Yeah,” James nodded with a debonair grin, “I couldn’t find his invisibility cloak though.”

“That’s so cool,” Hugo whispered, now practically foaming at the mouth.

“I hope you guys aren’t planning on using that after hours,” Rose quipped warningly, “I mean, with Mum there now-”

“Wouldn’t that be more of a reason for them to break rules?” asked the blonde Karina Edgecombe that had been talking with James previously. She stared blatantly at Rose, appraising her with a condescending sneer, “Your Mum will be able to just get them out of it.”

“But she won’t,” Rose answered her with a frown.

“What kind of mum wouldn’t-”

“It’s just that my aunt Hermione isn’t like that,” James mediated. He shrugged tolerably, “She believes in rules.”

Harleen smirked, “Just as much as perfect prefect Weasley does.”

Rose’s expression flattened over again as everyone in the compartment turned to stare down at the small badge pinned to the front of her robes.

“Probably shouldn’t have said anything in front of her,” Hugo said to James, looking indignantly over his sister, “Knowing her, she’ll go to Mum and tattle.”

“Nah, Rose wouldn’t do that, would you Rosie?” James asked her, gently nudging her side. Out of all of their other cousins, James was really the only one that seemed to be okay with Rose’s appetite for following the rules.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Rose mumbled.

Without saying anything else, she picked up the book bag she had dropped by her feet, and stood up. She opened the compartment door and exited, knowing that their gossiping whispers would undoubtedly follow.

Her head was lowered as she made her way down the familiar path leading to the girl’s loos. She was taken by surprise as a body collided with hers a couple of seconds later. Instantly, she looked up preparing to make a hasty apology when she met the steely eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

“S-Sorry,” she muttered after what seemed like hours of staring at him.

“Get out of the way, Weasley,” snarled Jerome Parkinson, a sixth year Slytherin, and Scorpius’s best mate.

“Sorry,” she muttered again, still looking up at Scorpius.

“Sorry,” mocked Jerome, before laughing uproariously and brushing past Rose. He turned and waited for his friend to follow. Scorpius paused for a moment before blinking, and following his mate up the corridor.

Rose stood stock still for a couple of minutes, completely oblivious to the roaring of the train, or the loud voices of the students hanging outside of their compartments. She didn’t know why, but she never could seem to function right after coming into contact with Scorpius Malfoy. It had always been like that, ever since she had first seen him in her first year. She blamed it on the eyes. There was something about them, like they could read her mind at any chosen moment…

She blushed red at the thought of what he would find there.

After another couple of minutes passed, Rose took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart beat. She glanced behind her, but saw that the boy sure to invade her thoughts for the rest of the train ride was gone.

…

Deputy Headmaster Canteford Denham led the first years into Great Hall. Hugo’s head of bright red hair stood out in the group of nervous new students. Hermione grinned to herself as she watched him stare fretfully amongst the rest of the students once Professor Denham had stopped them at the front of the hall. As he pulled out the scroll of parchment, and motioned behind him towards the sorting hat, Hermione let her gaze drift from her son towards the other new students. Not to her immediate surprise, they all looked quite small and young. She couldn’t detect any sign of the intended transfer student that was supposed to be sorted in with them. Maybe the student was actually a first year…

“When I call your name,” Professor Denham’s stern voice called out, “you will come up and sit on the stool. I will place the hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.”

Hermione grinned, thoughts of the transfer student forgotten, as she watched her son’s shoulders sag in relief over the fact that there would be no troll to battle.

“Ptolemy Abernathy…”

She watched on respectfully as Professor Denham went through the list of names. Hermione applauded cordially after every sorting, but a wistful smile came over her face after each Gryffindor first-year was sorted.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Hugo was called.

“Hugo Weasley.”

Hermione watched as a disgruntled look came over Hugo’s face as Professor Denham set the hat upon his head. It didn’t take too long though,

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione couldn’t help but beam along with her son as he jumped off the stool with an eager smile on his face and ran towards the Gryffindor table. She noticed Rose scoot over to make a spot for him, and was happy to see Hugo take it.

It only took a few more minutes for Denham to finish up the sorting. After Headmistress McGonagall made her beginning of the year speech, Hermione turned to Neville, the Herbology professor, with a curious look.

“Do you know if the transfer student was sorted?”

Neville set down his goblet and shook his head, “I’m pretty sure all of the names called were on the Hogwarts’ registry.”

“Huh…” Hermione sounded, turning back towards the students.

“Maybe the student had trouble getting on the train or something,” Neville shrugged.

She shrugged too, “Yeah, maybe.”

Neville gave her a little smile before turning his attention back to Professor McGonagall.

Hermione spent an extra second staring at her old friend. She wondered how he managed to keep so comfortable sitting up here, with all those kids staring curiously up at them. To be fair, he had been at this longer than she had, but still. She envied his collectedness.

Hermione was just reaching for her own goblet when the Headmistress turned to look at her.

“We have a new professor joining our staff this year. Please join me in welcoming Professor Hermione Granger, our new transfiguration teacher.”

The hall clapped politely while a few kids from the Gryffindor table- undoubtedly members of the Weasley clan- whistled for her.

A courteous smile spread over her face as she waved down at the hall. She knew she was acting cowardly, but her bravado refused to let her look down to her two kids. If she had, she would’ve seen their confused, frowning faces, staring up in shock at her from what she was introduced as.

…

Not even two seconds after Professor McGonagall had dismissed them, the hall was a jumble of students, all eager to get to their houses.

One student in particular though, was heading in the opposite direction that the general mass was moving in. After minutes of politely trying to push her way through the crowds, Rose finally broke free of the barrier and headed straight for her mother.

“Mum?” she called out to Hermione, who was making her way with the rest of the professors toward the door that led off to the teacher’s lounge.

Hermione tried to repress her sigh when she saw her daughter, “Yeah?”

“What…” Rose started, stopping a few feet away from her and shaking her head awkwardly. Hermione bit her lip, before slowly closing the distance between them. She knew what that disorderly expression meant.

“W-Why are you going by your maiden name?” Rose finally managed to ask.

Hermione put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “There's a lot of Weasley's here, Rose. I just didn't want other students to get distracted because of my last name, you know?”

“But they already know your my mum…” Rose refuted, again shaking her head.

Hermione tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, hoping that the gesture would relax her worries, “It's just for appearances sake, Rose. Professor McGonagall was actually the one to recommend I do it.”

“Oh…” Rose muttered, starting to calm down. “So like, everything's really okay with you and Dad?”

“Yep.”

Rose raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of her, “Mum-”

“Shouldn't you be heading off with the first year Gryffindors?” Hermione cut her off, pointing off towards the entrance of the hall where she recognized a group of younger students standing with an older boy dressed in Gryffindor robes, obviously searching around for the other Gryffindor prefect.

“Oh, right!” Rose muttered in a sudden air of panic, snapping her head around to the front of the hall. She turned back quickly to her mother, “Well, night Mum.”

“Night Rose,” Hermione said, pecking her on the forehead before she could start running away, “I'll see you in the morning. Tell your brother I love him when you see him.”

“Okay. Love you!”

Hermione bit her lip as she watched her turn and hurry back towards the bewildered group of Gryffindors. She knew her daughter was too perceptive for her own good… and she did understand that she’d have to tell her eventually. But term was just starting. Rose, and Hugo, didn’t need distractions. Whatever honest conversation Hermione may want to have with her kids… It’d have to wait.

“I love you too, Rosie.”

---

I can’t wait to update next chapter… Review with your thoughts!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 4: New Student

---

[AN] To those of you who are consistently reviewing every chapter, a huge thank you. I have no problem updating for you guys. However, to the rest of you who review once every ten chapters, it takes a lot of time for me to do this. If you like the story- even if you’re just starting to read- make sure you review. It takes fifteen seconds. Again, a big thank you to the ones who’ve been with me from the start. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It’s been a long time coming.

---

Hermione let out a slow breath, staring out over the twenty-three students sitting before her, reading through their new texts. The start of class had gone by rather easily. She was a bit anxious to start with sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, figuring that they would be the most rambunctious since they were coming back from their O.W.L. year. They had been somewhat noisy coming in, but had settled once the bell rang and she called for their attention. Thankfully, they had mostly kept their questions about her relationship with Rose and the rest of the Weasley’s to a minimum.

She was quite excited to progress through her lesson plans for all the students. She’d spent a great deal of time trying to come up with new and interesting ways to learn the topics within Transfiguration, and was keen to see if the students would react well to her different method. Right now, they were reading through chapter one of the text (since of course, reading was still an integral part of the course). Afterwards, Hermione had planned for them to take their wands out and start reviewing some of their favourite charms from last year. Her first order of business was to make sure all of the students were on the same level as everyone else.

She was just about to reprimand two Slytherins near the back for whispering, before the doors to the classroom opened. Professor Denham unceremoniously strode through, a file clutched tightly in his hands. Hermione’s eyebrows knitted together as he approached her desk.

“Morning Granger,” he said once he arrived in front of her desk.

Hermione nodded in response, “Canteford. Is something wrong?”

The greying older man waved his hand airily before tossing the file down in front of her, “Our transfer student just arrived this morning.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, straightening a little in her seat. She had wondered what had happened to the poor kid. Got lost, she had assumed.

“She was taken to the Headmistress's office to be sorted. Another Gryffindor…”

Hermione grinned, “You say that like it's a bad thing. So where is she?”

“She showed up in street clothes so I showed her to the girls loo so she could get changed into he robes. Americans…” he trailed off once more, his tone dripping with irritation. There really was no pleasing the once-Ravenclaw.

Hermione bit back her remark and nodded curtly, “Right. And this is her file?” She glanced down with renewed interest as she moved to open the manila folder.

“Yes. There's a slip in here that she'll need to have signed by all of her professors to ensure that she was attending her classes. Also, I wanted to let you know that she didn't purchase any of her course books for the year. She's missing a lot of her materials, so until she can order all of her things, Minerva has agreed to just let her borrow her books temporarily.”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, “That shouldn't be a problem for me- I have plenty of extra books.”

“You do, don't you?” he asked dryly, his lip curling a bit- maybe in a jealous annoyance- as he took in the surfeit of books rowed neatly behind her desk.

The sound of the door opening interrupted the man’s study of her collection, and stopped Hermione from opening the new student’s file. As she looked up, Professor Denham turned around in front of her, blocking her view of the doorway.

“Ah, you made it,” he greeted, the hint of exasperation still present in his tone. Hermione noticed the other students turn in their seats, all with apparent looks of interest planted on their faces.

As she recognized the students footfalls approaching the desk, she returned to the folder and opened it quickly, hoping to see her name written somewhere.

However, before she could read anything, a flash of robes out of the top corner of her vision made her aware that the student was already standing before her. Preparing to ask sheepishly what her name was, she looked up to face the girl.

All at once, Hermione’s heart stopped, her stomach dropped, her eyes bulged, and her breath caught in her throat. It was as if a truck- a big truck- had waylaid her as her eyes looked into the face of the transfer.

Hermione’s mind immediately jumped to a conclusion, although the odds ruled against her a million to one. But the evidence to her hopes and dreams were standing right in front of her! How else could it be? And if so, was life really that cruel to invent an almost exact replica? Those high cheekbones, the lips, the nose, the eyebrows, the hair… it was like looking at a picture of herself twenty years ago. Or, looking at the object of her cherished three by four, 16 and a half years later…

No, life wasn’t cruel. Life was a beautiful, angel-giving patron. Hermione barely noticed when her angel spoke.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered Denham awkwardly, her voice somewhat raspy to start, but undoubtedly American.

Professor Denham nodded, sparing her a polite smile. He turned back to Hermione, “Amia, this is your Transfiguration teacher, Professor Granger.”

Amia gave her a short nod, but didn’t meet Hermione’s still staring eyes, “Hi.”

A strangled sound emitted from the back of Hermione’s throat, but after that she went back to gazing wholeheartedly at the slightly taller and tanner version of her youth self. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t her Lillian Jane, but a name was only a name. They could’ve winded up calling her Destiny, for all she knew.

Professor Denham nodded curtly, not caring to worry over Hermione’s baffled look, “Well, I'll leave you to it. Amia, I can take your bag and have it sent up to your dormitory-”

“I'd actually rather hold onto it,” she cut him off, clutching the faded navy backpack she was holding closer to her chest.

“Alright…” he replied sceptically, this time shooting a look back to Hermione. She, however, remained frozen, her eyes still glued to Amia’s face. Denham cleared his throat before turning back to the girl, “If you have any questions, I'm sure Professor Granger will be able to help you.”

Amia nodded and didn’t say anything else as the older man turned to leave. Hermione didn’t digest that she looked somewhat hesitant as she turned to look back at her.

“So…” she muttered, glancing to the right where a couple Slytherin boys were blatantly ogling her. One of her eyebrows raised as she turned back to Hermione, “Should I sit down, or something?”

Hermione jolted at her words, immediately wanting to deny the opportunity for Amia to move away from her. For the first time, her eyes looked away from Amia and back down to her desk, “Uh, no... I-I need to get you a book and s-sign your file…” Her mind was completely scattered as she started fiddling with the papers in her file, all the while fighting off the urge to turn and stare at her some more. What if she suddenly disappeared? Did she really want to take that risk?

“Oh.”

She faltered for a brief moment at the sound of her voice. Though, upon Amia’s bewildered look, Hermione stood suddenly from her desk.

“Book…” she mumbled to herself, hastily turning around and heading back for a bookshelf to the left of her desk. It took her a couple seconds to find her the best sixth year text available. Her robes whirled around her in a tailspin as she turned back just as quickly, the book clutched protectively to her chest.

“Here you…” she stopped short as she saw Amia looking of towards her right, back to the boys who were trying to grab her attention earlier. She had the corner of her lip caught delicately between her teeth. A gasp escaped Hermione as she wondered to herself how many times she had bit her lip just like that.

Upon her involuntary sound, Amia turned back to her. Hermione noted that, as opposed to the shy look she adorned from glancing at the boys last time, she looked more consenting this time as she turned from them. That alone sent of a cannon blast of questions in Hermione’s head. Did she like the boys’ attention? She was beautiful, even with shaded circles under her eyes, so she probably got plenty of acknowledgement from other blokes. Would it be hard for her to make friends in Gryffindor if she started to like a Slytherin boy? Would she-

Before Hermione could allow herself to complete her thought, she abruptly jabbed the book out in Amia’s direction.

“Thanks,” she said as she took the book.

Hermione sucked in a ragged breath. She had manners. But she still wasn’t making eye contact. What did that mean? Was she nervous around adults? Unsure of herself? Did it give way to a lifetime of insecurities? But what did she have to be insecure about?

“So…” Amia spoke, instantly breaking Hermione from her thoughts. She sounded just as hesitant as before, “Are you going to sign my file now?”

Hermione blinked, once more feeling jolted, “Right! Right…” She sat- more like plopped- back into her chair and started sorting through the papers in her file. After a second, Hermione noticed that the first page was her educational history, and the second was her personal information.

Nervously, her eyes shot down to the bold letters that read ‘Name’. The truck slammed back into her as she read the last of the three words.

“C-Cooper? Your last name is Cooper?”

“Yep,” she responded absently, now staring over her, probably at the library of books.

Hermione stiffly looked back down to the paper, that was now shaking in her trembling hands. Her eyes pricked with tears, but she blinked them away, and eagerly started reading over her information again.

She wanted to let out a sob as she read her date of birth. January 21^st, 1993. All of this couldn’t be just a coincidence. Her wildest dreams had to be coming true.

Still shaking slightly, she looked up to Amia, “Where are you from?”

“Southern California,” she answered, turning at the sound of a whistle from somewhere in the class.

Hermione ignored the pestering boys. She could kill them in detention some other time. Right now, there was one burning question in the forefront of her mind. It was like she had no choice. She had to ask.

“Were… Were you adopted?”

Finally, Amia’s eyes cut to hers. Instantly, they narrowed.

For the first time, Hermione observed what a vivid green her eyes were. Fighting to contain her whimper and the urge to cry, Hermione realized that she’d only ever seen that eye colour on one other person before. It seemed like hours had passed, but when Amia responded, her answer was like a blunt knife to the heart.

“No.”

“Oh…” Hermione breathed, obviously disappointed by her answer. The cynical side of her, the side of her she’d only come to known since the middle of her pregnancy with Lilly, wanted to say ’Well, surprise.’ But then suddenly, her professional side caused her to quickly shake her head. Lost daughter who unbeknownst to her was really talking to her biological mother or not- she was still her student.

“I-I'm so sorry- this is incredibly inappropriate of me. Here…” Frantically, she shuffled the third sheet of parchment before her and signed off on the slot that read ‘N.E.W.T. Transfiguration’. Hastily, she ripped the parchment out and handed it to her, while closing the file and pulling it towards herself, “Um, you- you can sit wherever you want. They're just reading chapter one right now.”

“Okay,” Amia responded, still looking confused.

Shifting the weight of her backpack and book in her arms to accommodate the slip of parchment, she started heading down the aisle, probably towards the desk farthest back.

Hermione couldn’t help but watch her go with dreaded trepidation. She didn’t miss the bewildered look Amia shot her over her shoulder as she went.

---

Rose jumped out of the portrait hole to the Prefect’s bathroom, with an excited glow about her. She hadn’t had a chance to check out her new bathroom last night, but she had made a point to go straight after classes today. And she sure was glad she did. The place was humongous! Obviously, she knew it was a bathroom, but it was so spacious and empty, that she’d figured it might be a nice place for quiet time if she ever needed to get away.

The now bustling redhead was just starting to wonder which was now her favourite spot in Hogwarts- the library, or the Prefect’s bath- when she turned the corner and slammed into someone. The books she had to hold as a result of her overflowing book bag tumbled to the ground.

“Sorry,” Rose automatically apologized. She could feel her cheeks starting to flame as she bent down to pick up her strewn books.

She noticed the other person bend down too, and was surprised when she saw hands helping her collect her books. Rose looked up to see who was helping her, and was even more surprised to see the gorgeous face of a complete stranger.

Amia finished handing her the books before she stood up and readjusted her backpack. Rose stood too, “Thanks.”

Amia nodded politely, but then suddenly seemed to brighten up, “Wait, you're wearing the same colours as me! Are you in Gryffindor too?”

“Yeah. Are- are you the transfer student?” Rose asked. After living in the castle for four years, she thought she’d had a grip on who the older students were, especially if they were residents of her same house. However, this girl was someone she had never seen before.

“Yeah…” Amia nodded, starting to frown, “How'd you know?”

“Um, well my mum is a professor here, so she knew.”

Amia nodded, and then sighed, “Everyone seems to know. They’re all staring at me like I’m a freak-show,” she muttered seeming like she was talking more to herself than actually complaining to Rose.

“Oh,” Rose voiced, feeling like she should explain, “It’s not you. It’s just that Hogwarts hasn’t had a exchange student in like, a really long time. You’re the shiny new toy, unfortunately.”

“Great…” she muttered unenthused. She seemed to clear her head of pessimism before turning back to Rose, “Anyway, do you know how to get to the Gryffindor common room?”

“Yes. Um, it's on the 7th floor corridor. You'll walk down the entire hall and make a right at the end. From there it's a straight shot to the Fat Lady. Do you know the password?”

“Gilly Hicks, right?”

“Yeah.”

Amia glanced back in the direction that she had come from, still looking slightly confused, before spinning back around to Rose, “Am I the only one who thinks that this place is uncommonly huge?”

Rose laughed, “No, it is a pretty big castle. I'm actually heading up to the common room now if you want to walk together.”

“Only if you lead the way,” Amia answered, standing back so that Rose could step around her.

Rose grinned again before starting down the hall, heading for the staircase. She glanced back to Amia to make sure she was keeping up before asking, “So where did you go to school before?”

“Avalon Academy,” Amia said, a flicker of something- maybe homesickness, Rose thought- crossing her features, “It's in California- where I'm from.”

“That's cool. What year are you in?”

“Sixth. You?”

“Fifth. You weren't at the sorting last night were you?” Rose asked, deciding that no harm would be caused if she broached the topic. Her curiosity always seemed to get the better of her.

“Uh, no. I-I got here late…” Amia admitted, turning to look away from her.

“Oh.”

Next, Amia cleared her throat in an obvious attempt to change the subject, “So you said your mom was a teacher here?”

“Yeah, Professor Granger. She's the-”

“Transfiguration teacher?” Amia asked suddenly.

Rose nodded and gave her a enquiring look, “Yeah. You've met her?”

“I had her first period today,” Amia said, looking away distractedly.

“It's her first year teaching,” Rose revealed with a fond smile as they made their way out onto the staircase, “I think she was pretty nervous today, but she's really smart. I know she’ll do great.”

Amia’s eyes again went a little wide as she took in the vastness of the moving staircase, but after a moment she nodded in agreement, “She seemed like she was a little nervous in class. No offence or anything,” she quickly added.

Rose shook her head, “It's okay. To be honest, she's been acting kind of strange lately…” Suddenly, Rose’s thoughts took her back to last night and the awkward conversation she’d had with her mum. She’d thought about it after she went to bed, and it still didn’t really make sense to her. Her mum seemed so… unwilling, whenever they started to talk about her dad. Her mum had always been honest with her, whatever the situation was. But Rose couldn’t help the looming feeling that Hermione’s charade of ‘everything’s okay’ really was a lie.

Amia glanced at Rose, clearly wanting to put the topic back on an easy and unproblematic path, “So uh, what's there to do for fun around here after classes and stuff?”

Rose looked at her, breaking from her reverie, “Um, well people hang out at the lake sometimes… or go to the pitch to fly. But other than that everyone just goes back to their common rooms after classes. Or the library,” she couldn’t help but add.

Amia appeared to be shocked, “Are you serious?”

With a frown, Rose nodded, “Yeah. Why, what'd you do at your old school?”

“Go out and stuff,” Amia shrugged like that would’ve been the commonest answer, “We weren’t restricted to our campus.”

“Well we have Hogsmeade weekends,” Rose responded, forcing herself to sound optimistic for the new girl’s sake, “There's a lot of stuff to do there, but we're only allowed to go on specific weekends.”

“What a bummer,” Amia said, all potential she had for Hogwarts seemingly lost.

Rose shrugged, “It's better than I make it sound. So why'd you transfer here anyway?”

Going unnoticed by Rose, Amia stiffened, “Um… My dean thought it'd be a good… experience…”

“Did you choose to come here?” she asked again, heading off into the seventh floor landing. Amia shot her a look as she followed.

“Uh, no. But it doesn't matter. I'll be gone by Christmas break.”

Rose frowned, intrigued, “What do you mean?”

“My dean's going to check up on me before Christmas, and if I'm doing good then I can go home.”

Rose’s eyebrows knitted together. Amia made it sound like she was on probation or something…

“Were… were you in trouble or something? Is that why he made you come
here?”

Amia gave her a sharp look, upon which Rose immediately fumbled, “Sorry. Sometimes I ask too many questions.”

She continued to stare unabashedly at her for a moment or two, before shrugging, “It's just complicated.”

Rose nodded immediately, “Did your parents have a problem with you coming here? I mean, it's half way across the globe…”

Again, Amia merely shrugged, “My mom's a muggle. She doesn't really get involve in my academics.”

“What about your dad? Is he a muggle too?”

“Yeah. I haven't talked to him in a while though.”

“So- So you're the only magical person in your family?”

“Yeah. My sister isn't magical either.”

“Wow…” Rose mumbled. There was only a slight hint of envy in her voice.

Amia noticed, but didn’t question her on it. “And you?”

Rose scoffed candidly, “I'm like, related to half our house.”

Amia couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “Are you serious?”

Rose sighed, “Well not half, but I do have a lot of cousins in Gryffindor. My brother just got sorted in too. It's like a right of passage in my family, to be a Gryffindor.”

“Damn. I guess that's cool.”

“Sort of,” Rose muttered.

Amia raised an eyebrow, “You're not too stoked about it?”

The redhead shook her head, and then shrugged, “I'm kind of the black sheep in my family.”

“Nothing wrong with individualism.”

“I wish they could remember that.” Rose loved her family, she really did. But most of the time, if you dared dip your toe outside the famous pool of everything ‘Weasley’, then you were judged for it. Sometimes, she felt like her extended family- and even her dad and brother- didn’t understand her. That was part of the reason why she was so close with her mum. At least, she thought she was close with her.

“So how are the guys here? You into anyone?”

Rose’s eyes widened slightly as she turned to look at the older girl, “Um, I-I'm more focused on my studies…”

Amia nodded kindly, “I respect that.”

“Most of the girls here are boy obsessed though.”

An eyebrow raised on Amia’s face, “Uh oh… I bet there's a lot of gossip floating around here.”

“You have no idea…” Rose answered, suppressing her scoff and sighing instead. She was kind of disappointed when she saw that they had already reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Talking to this new American girl was cool.

“Well, we're here. Gilly Hicks.”

The painted women, still as fat and as pink as ever nodded, “Of course m'dears…”

The portrait swung open gracefully, and Rose was the first to step in. She took a few steps, but then realized that Amia was not following her. She turned back and found Amia staring in what must have been awe at the back of the open portrait.

Rose gave her a questioning look, to which Amia explained, “The portraits don't talk at my school.”

“Really? Some of the portraits here can be quite snarky. You'll have to come up with a few good premeditated comebacks to have, just in case.”

To Rose’s surprised, Amia laughed and stepped up into the narrow passage, “I'll keep that in mind. What’s your name anyway?”

“Rose Weasley. Yours?”

“Mia.”

---

Please review.

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 5: Her Name’s Amia

---

[AN] Great response for last chapter! I’d always intended for their daughter to come back one way, or another, and I’m happy that- at least, for now- you’re going along with it. Most of you were pretty eager to see when Hermione would get around to telling Harry, and I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint!

---

Hermione stared anxiously out over the bustling great hall, alight with chatter about the students’ first day of classes. She scanned the Gryffindor table for the twelfth time, hoping to get a glimpse of the person she’d been obsessing over all day. Literally, her eyes had not relaxed; they were still focused in an uncharacteristic wide-eyed stare.

Still, no Amia Cooper. Where was she? It was already fifteen minutes into dinner! Could she be lost? Did she get caught up with someone? Students? Teachers? Had those Slytherin boys gotten to her?

Instantly, Hermione’s eyes jerked over to the Slytherin table. However, she saw Wesley Parkinson and Micah Eghert absorbed in their own vivacious conversation. Alas, they couldn’t be held responsible. Amia’s whereabouts remained a mystery.

Hermione sighed in disappointment, her eyes going back to scanning the hall. The only reason she had pulled herself from the safe confines of her private quarters, was to come and see her again. It had been about ten hours since she’d seen her last. Already, the separation was becoming unbearable for Hermione. She knew she ought to be focusing on getting a grip of herself, but she just couldn’t help it. For her sanity’s sake, she needed to see Amia again. To make sure she was real. To run over the list of unnatural- but so obviously natural, in this case- similarities in her head again. To marvel over the resemblance. To shoo away any thoughts of coincidence…

Her thoughts suddenly flat-lined, and her heart skipped a beat as she finally saw the girl she’d been worrying over. Amia was there, out in the hall, approaching the entrance of the Great Hall. She was looking down to the ground, preoccupied in her own thoughts, as she came forward. Hermione didn’t realize that, as she stopped at the entrance and looked up, the rest of the hall seemed to go silent. Apparently she wasn’t the only one to notice her arrival.

A somewhat unsure and confused look crossed her beautiful face as she stared back at the gawking students. Hermione’s heartbeat picked up pace in worry as Amia, clearly uncomfortable, shifted from foot to foot. Only a few moments passed, where some of the students were starting to whisper amongst themselves, before she turned, and hurried out of the hall, back in the direction she’d came.

Panic washed over her as she watched Amia disappear out of sight. Not knowing the motive behind her action, she stood up, intent to follow her.

“Hey Hermione.”

“Neville!” Hermione exclaimed, jolting backwards as Neville pulled out his chair.

He paused, halfway lowered to his seat and gave her a concerned look, “You okay?”

“Yes!” Hermione replied immediately, “Why?” Her paranoia surrounded her. Did Neville know something she didn’t? Had he already connected the dots?

Neville raised an eyebrow as he sat, “You just look a little pale… Maybe you should eat,” he finished, nodding off towards her clean plate.

“Eat?” Hermione repeated in a near squeak. Without thinking, she turned back to the entryway of the Great Hall. It was abandoned; Amia was probably half way to the Gryffindor common room by now.

A sigh escaped her. She wanted more than anything to be able to run after her, but what good would it do? She was sure Amia hadn’t forgotten the uncommon amount of staring she’d done when they’d first met. The last thing Hermione wanted was to come off as weird or frightening to her, and she was sure that would happen if Hermione started to randomly follow her around.

With another bated sigh, she turned back to Neville. The sad disappointment was swirling in her eyes, “I guess.”

Neville tried to give her a comforting smile as he patted the spot next to him. Hermione took the hint and sat, even though she wanted to rush back to her own room so that she could ponder in quiet.

“First day of classes got you freaked out?” Neville presumed, as a plate full of sheppard’s pie, mixed vegetables, and buttered rolls appeared in front of him. “I hope the students weren’t too harsh on you.”

Hermione shook her head distractedly, “It-it was fine.”

“Good, good,” he muttered as he forked some of the pie into his mouth. He chewed for a minute, giving himself time to swallow, before he suddenly turned to Hermione again with renewed vigour, “Say, did you get to teach any sixth years today?”

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, still out of it.

“Did you meet the exchange student? Amia Cooper?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped to his. She tried to discern any amounts of accusation in his eyes and tone. Though, after a few seconds passed, Hermione determined that his question was simply a curious one. She glanced away and gulped, before turning back to him, “Y-yes. Yes, I did. Why?”

Neville chuckled, “Well, she looks an awful lot like you did when we were in Hogwarts, didn’t she? I had to do a double-take.”

Hermione sucked in a shaky breath as she turned back to stare in front of her. At least the immersed students in front of her wouldn’t notice the happy tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. So she wasn’t crazy. Neville saw the similarities too!

“I swear, if it weren’t for the different eyes, I would’ve thought that your old time turner went wonky on you.”

Hermione barely heard Neville as he chortled to himself. A thought had struck her, rendering her unawares to the noise and commotion around her. Neville had noticed. She wasn’t crazy. This was real. Her Lily was here. Amia Cooper was a student at Hogwarts, living in the same tower as her other daughter and son… and Harry’s sons…

“I have to go.”

Neville looked on confused as Hermione jumped from her seat and scooted her chair back audibly to move around him. “Hermione?” he called out as she rushed from the table.

But Hermione never heard him. Her mind was gone, and going farther as she hurried down the slim aisle and over to the door leading to the staff lounge. She was too consumed with the thoughts plaguing her mind, and her plan of leaving the castle unnoticed.

Harry. She needed to see him. Now.

…

Harry sighed and set down his quill on top of the mound of reports he’d been working through. He brought his hands up to rub at his temples for the hundredth time that evening. This headache wasn’t going anywhere, but if he didn’t finish this paperwork tonight, then he’d just have to do it tomorrow.

Well, to be honest it was supposed to be done tomorrow, but why not put a little time between now and the point where he’d be forced to leave his office? It’s not like going home would bring him any relief. Sadly.

There was a knock at his door, and Harry looked up to find Rockleigh Dawber, one of the interns in his team, standing at the entrance to his office.

Harry frowned, thinking that he’d closed his door, but gave the boy his undivided attention nonetheless.

“Mr. Potter?”

“Yes Rockleigh? What is it?”

He shoved his hands into his Auror robes’ pockets nervously, giving Harry a sheepish look. Harry sighed. The kid always had a tendency to be a little nervous around him, unlike his fellow interns who were quite boastful and brazen. It was a trait he was constantly reminding him to get over. Nervousness as an Auror was almost worst than clumsiness…

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a Hermione here to see you. She says it’s an emergency.”

Harry’s stomach plummeted. “Hermione?” he repeated, his tone betraying his own worry and the note to admonish his intern for his softer side. Harry couldn’t help it though. The words ‘Hermione’ and ‘emergency’ in the same sentence, naturally, had him on edge.

“Let her in,” Harry instructed quickly, frantic not to waste any more time.

Rockleigh nodded before turning and heading out into the reception area of the Auror office. Harry tried to shove his paperwork into a bottom drawer so that his office would appear less of an unorganized mess, and more professional. As he slammed the drawer closed though, he realized that that wouldn’t really matter to Hermione, since this supposedly was an emergency. At least, he was sure she didn’t realize that this was the first time she’d ever been inside his office. And they were alone, again-

Harry shook his head roughly as he stood up. Hermione was here for an emergency, not to see him because she wanted to. He cleared his thoughts as the devil in his head pondered over how nice that last bit sounded, and focused in on the problem as Hermione rounded the corner outside and rushed into his office.

Harry immediately took note of how frantic she looked. She was pale- considerably paler- and her eyes were red. She’d been crying recently…

“Hermione, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Harry asked, quickly coming forward to her. As she shook her head and let out something of a whimper, Harry closed the door magically with a wave of his hand. He didn’t have to worry about silencing charms, since all Auror offices came pre-equipped with them.

He put a hand on her shoulder, hoping that would ease her into speaking.

But Hermione only continued to shake her head, “No. Harry…”

“Here, sit down. Do you want some water?” he asked as he led her over to the chair opposite his desk. He was in the middle of reaching for his wand to prepare a glass for her, but Hermione only shook him off.

“No, I-I-”

Harry knelt so that he was closer to eyelevel with her as she continued to babble. She didn’t appear to be physically hurt, which was his biggest relief. However, he couldn’t help the numbing excuse as to why she was sitting here, in his office, in this particular state. He hadn’t expected her to come to him so soon…

“Is it Ron? Did he do something to you?”

“No!”

Oh. Harry was hesitant to probe for more, but he couldn’t help his dire curiosity, “Then what’s the matter?”

Hermione still couldn’t just open her mouth and speak. She screwed her eyes shut, looking like she was fighting off tears, before she finally choked out, “Harry, it’s her.”

Harry frowned, “Her?” Who’s her? Was he supposed to know who she was talking about? Was it Rose? Ginny?

Ginny. That’s it.

‘Damn it… she’s probably gone off and said something to her about leaving bloody Ron all alone. Damn her, she made Hermione cry-’

“Lilly.”

Harry’s internal commentary immediately went dead, and he was silent. He wasn’t aware of anything else as he stared into Hermione’s tearing eyes. He’d only known two Lilly’s in his thirty-five years of life. Both caused painful memories to think about, however, one Lilly was significantly more painful to remember than the other. So painful, that he had tried his very hardest not to think about her since the day he’d lost her.

“Hermione…”

“She’s the exchange student,” she said, her voice brimming with emotion, “Lilly’s at Hogwarts.”

Harry stood up, though continued to stare into Hermione’s eyes. He hadn’t been aware of any exchange student, but twenty-four years of knowing her told him that she wasn’t lying. Knowingly, at least. However, there was no way he could believe what she was claiming. She had to be wrong.

“No… that can’t be true.”

“It’s her, Harry. I saw her with my own eyes,” Hermione said desperately, also standing.

Harry shook of her pleading tone, “Well, you were mistaken. It wasn’t really her. There’s no way.”

“I read her file, Harry! I saw it all- where she’s from, her last name. She looks-”

“It’s a coincidence,” Harry said, in a tone of finality. He hadn’t intended to be so harsh with her, but he didn’t know how else to deter her from her insane theory. Because that’s all this was. Hermione probably saw a girl, around Lilly’s age, who probably looked a little like her. So what if the last name was the same? That meant very little. It had to mean very little…

“You can’t expect there to only be one Cooper family in the entire world,” he continued after taking a few deep, calming breaths, “And as far as looks go- people have similar features. It’s not that shocking to find random strangers who look like you.”

“She’s not a random fucking stranger! It’s her! I know it is.” Hermione couldn’t believe they were fighting about this right now. The idea that Harry thought she was lying was appalling to her. She would never lie to him- especially about this. He should’ve fucking known that.

Harry sighed, determined to discourage her, “Look, there’s no proof-”

Hermione glared at him, “I don’t need it written in bold on a piece of bloody parchment. She lived inside me for over six fucking months. I gave birth to her. I know it’s her. That’s proof enough.”

“Hermione, don’t do this,” Harry whispered, staring her fully in the eyes as she continued to glare at him. He knew she would probably end up hating him for saying this to her, or more importantly, he knew that it was her who was so desperate to find their daughter again. She was the one that was so outwardly hurt by their separation; she was the one who refused to let go.

But, by believing so desperately that she had once again found her, would only cause her more pain- pain that she’d tried to get over by moving on with Ron, and having Rose and Hugo. Even if it was their Lilly…

“Do what?” Hermione scoffed angrily, “What do you think I’m here for? To lure you into some plan to get her back-”

“We’re not getting her back-” Harry whispered, but Hermione quickly cut him off.

“I only came because I thought you should know! I thought you’d want to know.”

Harry didn’t respond immediately. He had been right. Because he wasn’t so keen to believe that this girl was their Lilly, Hermione was seeing him as the enemy. But she was wrong. He was happy that she’d come to tell him- he would’ve hated to be kept in the dark about something like this. However, that didn’t change his stance.

It couldn’t have been her. And that was that.

“Well thanks for telling me,” Harry said, his eyes unwavering.

Hermione held his gaze for a few moments, before her resolve broke. She scoffed, though, Harry could tell she was actually choking back a sob. As she contorted her face into another angry glare, a tear streaked down her cheek. For Harry, it was worst than getting hexed with a well aimed cruciatus curse.

“Aren't you interested to find out about her? To find out if she's had the good life we intended for her to have?”

“What if she hasn't Hermione? What would you do then?”

“If she hasn't, then it's our fault.”

At that, Harry shook his head vehemently, “No it's not Hermione! She's not our kid. Two people in this world are responsible for her- and those two people are not us.”

“So you don't even care?”

“Hermione…” Harry said, coming forward to grab her shoulders. The fact that his face hadn’t been this close to hers in over sixteen years jumped to the forefront of his mind, but he pushed it back as he started to whisper, “we have our own children now. How would this girl-”

Hermione pushed away from him, “Amia. They named her Amia. Amia Shea Cooper.”

Harry sighed patiently. Was she trying to hurt him with that information? Was she capable of playing so dirty? Could she be that pissed at him? Harry wished the answers would come to him, but the sad reality was that he didn’t know.

Despite his disbelief, he needed to finish his point. Hermione was trying so hard to convince him that their lost daughter had been found, but at the same time, he needed to make her see that if such a coincidence had occurred, then it was the opposite of good to make something of it. They had given up so much to give their daughter a happy life, but if Hermione acted on her impulses, that could potentially be ruined. Didn’t she understand that?

“Hermione, how do you think she'd feel if two seemingly strange people came into her life claiming that she was adopted and that she was their daughter?”

“But she was! And she is!”

“Hermione, leave it alone,” Harry simply told her, fixing her with the firmest look he had.

For a moment, he wondered if she’d continue to argue. He wouldn’t put it past her. Once she got something in her head and believed it to be true, there was no persuading her otherwise. But, again, for the sake of this girl, Hermione couldn’t do whatever she wanted to do. It wasn’t fair to the girl.

Thankfully, after a minute, Hermione did nod.

“Fine,” she said quietly.

Harry sighed, and was about to reach for her again to thank her, but Hermione was too quick.

She turned, and started for the door. Harry, jolted by her sudden movement, hurried to catch up with her. Her idea of a quick escape made it obvious that she had no intention of doing what Harry had practically begged her to do.

He spun her around by the elbow before she could reach for the door knob, “I mean it Hermione. It would only hurt her in the end. If her parents haven’t told her, then it’s for a reason.”

He figured Hermione would only roll her eyes and try to pull away from him. Though, he was surprised when she stared back at him, emotion-free. It was almost like she was in a daze…

“She has your eyes,” Hermione said, barely above a whisper, “And I think she got her height from you too. She was a little bit taller than me. Tall and skinny.”

Harry’s grip slackened, and his hand limply fell from her elbow. It was in that moment, as he stared at her with tears of his own pricking at the back of his eyes, that he realized that Hermione was trying to hurt him. It was obvious in the way her eyes stared composedly into his. Clearly, she didn’t care about how much this stuff truly affected him. She wanted him to feel more pain. Her pain, possibly.

Well, if that was true, then she should know that he’d come to terms with that pain a long time ago. He’d mastered the art of not looking vulnerable. He wasn’t about to break down into tears now.

He turned away from her as he beat the desperate feelings down, draining his face of all emotion, and again burying his pain deep within him.

He heard Hermione snort a moment later, and reflexively he glanced back to find her fixing him with a cold glare.

“But I guess you wouldn’t care,” she whispered again.

He’d rather her scream at him. It’d be less unforgiving.

“Hermione-” he replied, preparing to tell her that he did care, but that she simply cared too much. However, he never got the chance to. In the brief time frame, where Harry had closed his eyes to formulate his would-be gentle words, Hermione spun around for the door handle.

By the time Harry realized that she was gone, she was already a decent distance down the hall.

He sighed raggedly, finally letting the hopeless sensation wash over him.

…

Hermione rushed out of the Auror office, heading straight for the lifts. A tirade of emotions were picking her apart; some viciously punching holes through her already wounded spirit, and others gently, but gradually weighing down in her heart. The weight was nearly unbearable.

So she had been wrong. She couldn’t come to him. Harry was supposed to be the one person to understand- the one person to sympathize with her. Alas, he’d turned into a stone wall as soon as she’d said the word ‘Lilly’.

It was just like Boston; a complete reiteration of the side of Harry that had emerged there. The one that she’d wanted to punch for how persistent he was in the concept of protecting them. The one that she’d loved so desperately, yet hated at the same time.

Harry’s reaction was certainly unfavourable, but what had she expected? For him to be as shock-happy as she? Was she wrong to think that perhaps sixteen years of separation would’ve changed his opinion on things?

Maybe. Maybe not. But she did know one thing for sure. This wasn’t the end for her.

Hermione would just have to take matters into her own hands. Harry didn’t understand. Amia was a student at Hogwarts. Even if she found the willpower to stay away from her, it wasn’t possible. Hermione didn’t want that willpower anyway.

Somehow, someone, somewhere was giving her a second chance. And Hermione wasn’t just about to pass it up.

…

An hour and a half had passed already, but Harry was still sitting at his desk, inside his closed office, staring blankly in front of him. He hadn’t touched the drawer he’d shoved all of his paperwork into. Work was the last thing on his mind.

Of course, he’d put on the stone face for Hermione, but now that she was gone, he couldn’t hide from his despair any longer. And this is what giving in to that despair usually did to him- rendered him useless. For the past ninety minutes, Harry had been thinking about the events that transpired before Hermione left.

It wasn’t just simple thinking though; he was also trying absolve his longing to apparate to Hogsmeade, sneak into Hogwarts, and go find her. That fantasy was quickly dissuaded though. Seems as if someone had taken his father’s old cloak, and forgotten to mention it to him. Ruddy clever James…

All of the Ministry cloaks were traced when they left the utilities lab, so that option was out. Before he’d had the opportunity to brainstorm up another plan of action, he reminded himself of the hard truth: if this was Lilly, then what would it do to her having some random bloke- with the same coloured eyes- come up to her and ask her personal questions concerning her childhood and overall happiness?

And that did the trick nicely. He just had to keep reminding himself, that it would do Lilly… Amia… her… no good if he decided to show up in her life. It’d be selfish of him, and unfair to her.

But that didn’t make things any easier. He knew Hermione was pissed at him for his approach. He’d always retained the thought that she felt it was his fault. Of course, she’d tried to apologize once she showed back up in London all those years ago… but that note she’d left still burnt brightly in the far corners of his mind.

It was all so much to handle at once. He always felt despicable knowing Hermione was upset with him. He knew she was disappointed with his reaction. But what could he do about that? He wanted for her to restore her confidence in him so badly… but what exactly would the consequences be? He wasn’t even positive about what Hermione wanted to do about the situation. Naturally, he had assumed, but he never got around to asking.

Oh, but that’s right, he was too busy accusing her that she was misinformed.

He mentally kicked himself, thinking back to their conversation. He hadn’t even asked her how she had felt about this! Hermione had seen the girl after all. It was obvious that she was probably a wreck. But was that a good wreck?

He knew how Hermione had felt. She never wanted to give Lilly up in the first place. It had always been him pushing for the adoption. It was him who made Hermione see the plus sides of it…

Harry sighed harshly to himself, fighting back the voices in his head calling him a bastard and a coward. He wouldn’t let himself go to that place of pure imagination- the place where he’d spent hours dreaming about how their life would’ve been if they’d decided to keep Lilly and go on the run with her.

Would they be happy? Or would something as nightmarish as the results of that prophecy have come up by now?

Would… would he and Hermione still be together?

With a pained breath, he admitted that he knew the answer to that question. Of course they would still be together. Nothing else would’ve been able to pull them apart. It was loosing Lilly that was their breaking point, as later on proved true. That experience was the only thing remotely close to what could’ve potentially broken them up. Loosing a child… it truly changed people. Deformed them, rather.

He never blamed Hermione for that deformity. Like her, he figured himself was to blame.

But that was something he’d come to terms with. He couldn’t change the past.

‘But you could change the future-’

‘What good would that do if I couldn’t make sure that it was the right thing? This is for the best. She doesn’t know… we shouldn’t be the ones to inform her…’

Letting out another sigh, Harry leaned forward in his chair to put his face in his hands. As he let his fingers once more smooth over his throbbing forehead, he begged off his internal debate. It wouldn’t do any good, because Harry knew he’d always come back to the same unfortunate conclusion.

Lilly’s oblivion from the truth was the best thing for her. End of story.

Fighting with himself like he was eighteen again was the last thing he needed.

…

Harry slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He’d tried to stay at work to finish some of those reports, but the night had proved more exhausting than he’d anticipated. The good thing was that it was well after midnight, so sleep in the near future was a realistic possibility. The bad thing was that he could see the light on in his bedroom as he stepped onto the first floor landing.

Ginny was awake. How could he face her?

Harry sighed as he approached the door. That was a silly question; he’d face her like he always did. It had never seemed to bother him before. Though, he didn’t know if he was up for the masked countenance he usually diverted to. Hopefully, Gin was close to sleep herself.

Quietly, Harry pushed the door open, hoping to find that Ginny had accidentally fallen asleep with her reading light on.

Fate wasn’t so kind.

“You’re home late. Again,” Ginny muttered, not moving her eyes from the book she was reading.

Harry nodded, setting down his briefcase and heading over to the closet, “A lot of stuff is happening at work right now.”

“Like what?”

“Like things you know I’m not allowed to talk about, Ginny.” That wasn’t even a lie, thought the bullshit about ‘a lot of stuff happening at work’ was complete rubbish.

Ginny marked her book and shut it. She fixed Harry with a somewhat annoyed look, “I was going to invite Ron over for dinner, but I figured you wouldn’t be here…”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, kicking off his shoes and starting on his tie.

“He’s having a tough time now that Rose, Hugo, and Hermione are all gone.”

At that, Harry couldn’t help but scoff, “You think?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ginny finally snapped.

Harry glanced back at her to find his wife glaring darkly at him. He shrugged, “Nothing.”

“Look, Ron’s your best mate,” Ginny told him, trying to calm herself down in order to make Harry empathize with her, “Maybe you should take the time out of your busy schedule to talk to him. He would do it for you,” she pointed out lastly, raising an eyebrow and wondering what his reaction would be to that.

She was shocked when Harry turned and glared right back at her, “Gin, don’t guilt me into doing shit. If you think he’s having such trouble, then why don’t you go talk to him? He’s not the only person that has problems!”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Ginny told him, wide-eyed, and completely appalled by his tone. Harry had never really screamed at her before…

“Don’t talk to me like this!”

“Piss off!”

Harry sighed, his anger quickly dissipating as he watching Ginny jump out of bed and run out of his line of sight from the closet. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, but he was just sick and tired of hearing about everyone else’s problems. Couldn’t he be afforded some time to just think about himself?

His eyes screwed shut as he heard the bathroom door slam. Obviously, the answer was no. With another sigh, he tossed his tie to the floor, before starting on his way towards their bathroom. The sooner he apologized to his wife, the better.

---

Next chapter, back to Hogwarts. Mia could start to love the place just as much as her birth parents did, or she could start to hate it. And Harry might come looking for Hermione to apologize.

Perhaps, if you review…

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 6: Second Day, Second Thoughts

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[AN] I apologize for the long wait, and thank you very much for the reviews.

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“Did you know they made them that gorgeous in America?” Trevor Lewis asked, leaning into whisper his comment to the other huddled Gryffindors. It was the beginning of the second day of classes, and by now the entire school knew of the transfer student’s arrival. The Great Hall was alive with noticeable conversation of the new girl- particularly the older Gryffindors.

While most of the fifth years were talking excitedly about her, Rose sat off to the side, her large charms text in front of her, and every once in a while shot annoyed looks at the group of gossipers.

Carson Wood nodded to his friend, “Well, if they’re all like that, I’m going to look into transferring my self.”

“Speak for yourself,” Trevor said, rolling his eyes, “She’s here now, isn’t she?”

A bark of laughter sounded from the middle of the group, and everyone turned to look at James, who was grinning slyly, “Like she’s going to give your ugly arse a chance.”

Trevor glared at him while Carson and the rest of the group shared in his amusement. Their chuckles were just starting to calm down when Heidi Lipton, another fifth year Gryffindor, interjected her own supposed information, “McKinley was saying his dad knows hers. American goblins chased their whole family out of America because of something her dad did.”

“I heard she was here to compare the education between English and American wizards,” Karina shrugged, annoyed that most of the attention seemed to skip over her entirely.

At that, Carson shook his head, “She’s here for quidditch. At least, that’s what Connoway said he heard from McGonagall and Denham.”

“I believe that,” James agreed with him, “With a body like hers… she’s the perfect build for a seeker. She’d make a great addition to the team. I mean, since Spinnet’s graduated…”

Heidi shook her head as most of the other boys got lost in thought at James’ mention of the new girl’s body. “No, I still think her father did something to make them move-”

“Honestly you guys,” Rose finally huffed from the edge of the group. She slammed her book shut and gave them all a perfected glared, “she’s only here because her dean thought it’d be a good experience. Her parents aren’t even magical.”

The group was silently taken aback. After a second or two, a few of them started to look in between each other, now calculating their own reactions.

Finally, James turned back to her, “She’s a muggleborn?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?” asked Karina.

Rose didn’t fail to notice the slight hint of malice in her tone, but answered honestly nonetheless, “Because I walked her to the common room yesterday.”

“Well, I hope she does play quidditch. I’m going to ask her today.”

Rose rolled her eyes at Carson’s comment, while the rest of the group raised their eyebrows in pursuit.

“You won’t be able to hock up the courage to ask her a thing,” James quickly denied with a knowing smirk.

This time it was Carson who glared, “Shut up! I could get out more than you could.”

James nodded condescendingly, “Right.” He then straightened up in his seat and a scrunched up his face into a nervous expression, “H-Hey d-d-do you p-p-p-play qu-qu-quidditch?”

“He’s right Carson,” Trevor said morosely while the rest of the fifth years howled with laughter at the boy’s expense, “We don’t need a repeat from last year.”

Heidi’s high pitch giggles were the loudest of all, “When he asked Helen Kaiser out? Merlin, I’d almost forgotten.”

Carson scowled before nodded off moodily at James, “Why don’t you ask her then?”

He shrugged, “Maybe I will.”

Despite Rose's irritation, the gossiping continued. It was less than a minute before she decided that it was too difficult to ignore. Just as she was stacking her books up to put back in her book bag, a familiar face caught her attention at the front of the hall.

Amia looked skeptically between two sixth year Gryffindor girls, Amanda Zobair and Tabitha Temple, as they chatted and giggled on either side of her. Rose could tell that something was off with her, but it wasn't obvious until Amia glanced around the hall and locked eyes with her.

Rose watched on in confusion as Amia turned to Amanda and Tabitha, gave them a final look, undertoned with severe annoyance, before turning and walking down the row between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

The redhead was somewhat shocked that Amia seemed to be walking straight up to her, and if the looks on her peers faces were any indication, they were shocked too. She hadn't even realized that their conversation had stopped at their fabled new girl's arrival.

Rose told herself not to look awkward as Amia stopped next to her and nodded to the seat to her left- the one that faced off to the empty side of the table. “Can I sit here?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Rose turned to clear her books away from the seat while Amia noiselessly dropped down to the table. As inconspicuously as possible, she tried to duck her head from the girls who were still standing bamboozled at the front of the hall.

“Thanks," she muttered to Rose.

Roses nodded and also glanced back, “Just escaped?” she guessed.

“Yeah. The rumours really run wild here, don’t they?” Amia asked rhetorically, appearing to sigh.

Rose nodded unfortunately, “And this is only day two.”

“This sucks.”

“It’ll be okay eventually," Rose tried to encourage her as she reached for a glass of juice and put her chin in her hand. "So what’s your schedule today?”

“Uh…" Amia sounded, straightening up to try and remember, "Defence Against the Dark Arts, double Potions, and Ancient Runes. You?”

“Double Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defence. You take Runes?” Rose questioned her, a sudden twinge of excitement in her tone.

Amia nodded hesitantly, “Yeah, why?”

“Nobody takes that here. I’m the only Gryffindor taking it as an elective.”

“Oh,” she conceded with a delicate shrug, “Well, it was mandatory at Avalon. I guess I just stuck with it.”

Rose nodded, trying to act as suave about it as Mia, “That’s cool. Have you met Slughorn yet?” she decided to ask. After talking to her yesterday, she figured that the California girl was a shoo in for wily professor’s infamous club. Well, perhaps infamous was the wrong word… After all, Rose herself had been a member of the club since her first year at Hogwarts. She didn’t think it was as bad as everyone made it out to be, but then again she wasn’t as hell bent to remain a part of it like her other peers.

Amia, though, shook her head, “Slughorn?”

“The Potions professor,” Rose explained, “I bet five sickles that he’s going to induct you into the Slug Club simply because you’re a transfer.”

At that, Amia raised an eyebrow, “Slug Club?”

With a fond smile, Rose took a deep breath and started off explaining the concept behind the Slug Club, along with the benefits and some of the downsides. She could tell that Amia was listening on in basic horror as she got further into details, but was happy to see that she relaxed a bit when she mentioned that she herself was a part of the club, but that she was there mainly because of her own achievements while others where there mostly because of who they were related too.

…

Hermione stared down at her two daughters from the staff table. Again, she’d been looking for Amia to come all morning long. After only seeing her for a brief moment last night, she felt like her sanity was teetering on the edge. She couldn’t describe the heart throbbing jolt she’d felt when Amia walked through the doors this morning. The ineffable feeling was multiplied when she watched her estranged daughter walk up to her second baby.

They’d become friends? Apparently so, by the way they were talking and laughing with each other now. She’d never seen Rose take to a new person so easily before… and Amia’s smile…

“Morning Hermione.”

Hermione gasped and nearly jumped out of her seat as Neville plopped down into the chair next to her. She clamped a hand to her mouth and shot her old friend, who was looking quite startled himself, a sideways glance. “Scared me…” she mumbled weakly in her defence.

Neville patted her hand awkwardly before reaching into his robs and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, “I’ve got a letter for you. I think it’s from Ron, unless this is someone else’s unintelligible chicken scratch.”

Nervously, Hermione took the letter from him. She immediately recognized Ron‘s handwriting, and instantly her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Sure, sure,” Neville said easily, pulling a pile of eggs and hash towards him, “So your owl’s not very strict on who he gives out mail to, huh?”

Hermione shook her head absently, now having gone back to staring at her two girls, “He’s really thick.”

Silence engulfed them for a moment. Hermione wouldn’t have spoken on it, but unbeknownst to her, Neville had been observing her the whole time. He tried to follow her line of sight, but came up with nothing. Eventually, he turned back to her and nudged her gently, “Hey, you okay?”

Just as absently as before, she nodded, “Yeah…”

A few more quiet moments passed between them before Neville gave up and went back to his breakfast. The curiosity and trepidation that Ron’s letter caused was now buried in a far corner of Hermione’s mind. She couldn’t concentrate on anything as she stared off, lost in thought, at her two daughters.

…

Harry combed his tired hands through his hair for the thousandth time that day. Thankfully, no one was around in the archives office to notice his troubled look. He’d been sitting there for the past forty minutes, trying to make some headway on some of his paperwork. However, he was failing miserably at his job. Literally, he couldn’t stop thinking about Hermione, and the girl she was convinced was their’s…

His head was a complete jumble. One minute he was convinced that his cold shoulder technique was the right thing to do, but he also couldn’t hide his own interest to find out for sure.

Obviously, Hermione didn’t need any further evidence, and that scared him a bit. Was she planning on saying something? Had she already? Was the girl catching on to Hermione’s never-ending stares? He’d come to terms with the fact that Hermione probably wasn’t making things up. She wasn’t the type to see something just because she wanted to see it.

But that left him with even more questions. What was the girl even doing here? So the Cooper’s know about magic? Did they hate her for it? If this was really their daughter, then did she have the happy safe life that they had intended for her to have? Would her being in Britain suddenly change that? Would that prophecy spark up again-

He shook his head again, trying to clear his rambling thoughts. He was just paranoid. Definitely, he was just overanalyzing things.

Harry jumped in his seat as a book slammed down on the table he was sitting at. He looked up in confusion, but quickly replaced it with annoyance as the face of Zacharias Smith came into his view.

“What’s the matter with you, Potter?” Smith churned with his same old snobby, uptight voice.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to act oblivious, “What?”

Smith raised an eyebrow, “You look like you’ve been confunded.”

“Just concentrating,” Harry shrugged, pulling his files of paperwork closer to him to try and get the point across that he was busy. Smith, though, must’ve gotten the wrong impression.

He scowled, “I hope you don’t think you’re going to be able to pin the Giant uprising paperwork on me…”

“I’ve never pinned any paperwork on you,” Harry replied in disdain.

“I’m just saying. It’s your turn.”

Harry glanced up in time to see Smith’s curled lip. The nerve of the hopeless bastard always irritated him, but today his tolerance was even lower. Suddenly, Harry’s eyes went very dark. “Piss off, Smith,” he growled through the corner of his mouth.

The blonde’s gaze wavered for a moment, before hardening to match Harry’s, “Watch it Potter.”

Harry’s patience snapped. Before he could do any damage to the insufferable git, he collected his files and pushed back from his seat. The lights flickered around him as he stormed off towards the door, and headed out into the hallway.

His clenched jaw didn’t slacken until he was facing the closed metal doors to the elevator. If it weren’t for everything else going on in life, Harry would’ve been perfectly capable to just head back up to his office and loathe Smith in silence. But, however much against his will, images of Hermione and their baby kept flashing before his eyes. It was in that moment that he decided he needed to stop being so inert. He needed to find out some proof for himself…

A light ting sounded through the empty hall, signalling the elevator’s arrival. Absently, Harry climbed inside the lift and pressed the button for the 5^th floor.

He could sense the lift climbing but took a deep breath once it stopped. The cool voice of the announcer sounded, “5th Floor, Department of International Magical Cooperation; Department of Magical Registry and Licensing.”

…

Rose lagged behind the rest of her class as they all packed up their transfiguration texts and notes. She kept trying to inconspicuously glance up at her mum, just trying to see if she was still looking as desolate as she’d seem throughout the entire hour and a half lesson.

After a couple minutes of looking like she was rearranging her spare parchment and newly inked notes, the last student finally walked out of the classroom. Rose snuck a peek at the front of the room again before quietly slinging her bag over her shoulder and making her way up to her clearly troubled mother.

“Hey,” she started, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

Hermione jolted, and looked up from the spot she had been staring at on her desk. Her eyes flicked for a second, before she cleared her throat, “Hi Rosie. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Is everything okay with you?”

Quickly- too quickly- Hermione nodded, “Yes. Why?”

Rose shrugged, “Just checking… you seem a little out of it.”

“Oh. Yeah… sorry,” Hermione mumbled, hoping that her daughter for once would be deceived. She didn’t feel up to putting on a show for Rose’s masterful detections.

But naturally, it couldn’t be that easy. Rose eye’s narrowed at her lack of cooperation. “Mum what’s the matter?” she probed again.

Hermione sighed, “Nothing. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Rose. Are you okay?” Hermione asked, this time fixing her daughter with her own studying look. Hopefully this technique would work better.

Rose nodded easily, “I’m fine.”

“Good. So… how do you like your duties so far?”

Rose was quiet for a second. She knew her mum was trying to get her distracted from her pursuits, but then again maybe keeping her involved in conversation would clue her in on what was truly the matter. Talking was better than no talking, so with that in mind Rose nodded, “They’re cool. I’m sure it’ll get more interesting as we get into the school year.”

Hermione nodded, “Yeah…”

Silence engulfed the two, and that was bad for Hermione. Unless there was something keeping her directly involved with another matter, her thoughts just drifted back to Amia.

A light bulb flashed in Hermione’s head at the mention of her daughter. Suddenly in interest, she looked up to her other daughter. Maybe this was a bad idea, but she was beyond the point of trying to fight her impulses, “So… I noticed that you and A-… the new girl… were sitting together this morning…”

Rose’s observant expression flickered into something different. Not noticing Hermione’s ploy for information, Rose nodded with a content little smile, “Yeah. Mia’s really nice. Different then I thought she’d be if it was a girl.”

“What do you mean different?” Hermione asked eagerly, almost on the edge of her seat that Rose was ready to share her own knowledge of her.

Rose shrugged, “She doesn’t really care about popularity. I thought she’d succumb to some clique. She’s a lot more down to earth. More realistic, you know?”

“Oh…” Hermione mumbled numbly, again forcing herself to keep breathing in and out. Once more, she started relating the similarities between herself, Harry, and their daughter. She wondered if the Cooper’s played any part in Amia’s attitude, or if it was purely their DNA coming into affect…

“I can tell there’s something wrong with you,” Rose’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Hermione looked up at her, and tried to give her the most convincing look she could muster, “Baby, I’m fine.”

She didn‘t looked persuaded, “You swear?”

Hermione nodded, not really giving any thought to how terribly she was lying to her second daughter right now, “I swear. You should be heading to your next class. Charms, right?”

“Defence,” Rose corrected her quietly.

Her tone was like a kick to Hermione’s groin, but she told herself not to focus on it. “Oh. You still better hurry.”

Rose stood there in a detached silence for a moment, before shrugging, suddenly indifferent, “Fine. See you later.”

“Love you,” Hermione said just as she’d turn her back to leave.

Rose’s posture faltered, but she eventually turned back, “I love you too.”

Hermione gave her a gentle smile as she turned, and continued down the row of desks.

…

Harry’s heartbeat picked up considerably as he stood opposite the large, closed tome. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting before the thing, nor did he understand why his nerves were kicking in now, at that moment.

The ministry’s replica of the Hogwarts’ Registry wasn’t quite as majestic as the real thing, but it held exactly the same use. It would either confirm or deny Hermione’s claims. Harry had a sick feeling that it would work in Hermione’s favour, but still. What would this prove?

Another few moments passed before Harry realized that that question couldn’t be answered until he just got to the actual discovering. If there was an Amia Cooper registered, then maybe it was just a random incident of someone with the same name. Someone with the same name, who supposedly looked just like Hermione and had the same birth date as Lilly. Or, it wasn’t a coincidence. He didn’t have any further comment for the latter case.

With shaking fingers, Harry reached forward. The cover of the book was just as rough as he imagined it to be, but at this point, that couldn’t stop him. He hooked his finger under it, and pulled it open.

The book swung open on it’s own accord and magically turned to the page with the most recently admitted students. And there, Harry saw it.

In dark black ink, the name Amia Cooper was etched into the parchment. His heart twinged at the word Gryffindor, written right besides her name.

So this was it. There truly was an Amia Cooper. He couldn’t deny that any longer. This person was real, whether it was who Hermione thought it was or not. There was some basis to her theory, and it was currently staring him in the face.

He thought that once he saw the alleged proof, he’d feel more solid about the situation; he would feel like he could better pick a stance. But to be honest, now he felt as confused as ever. This could possibly prove so much… but he wasn’t going to see any of that thousands of miles away from the place this person resided.

Maybe… maybe he needed to see this girl for himself. Maybe he needed to put himself in the position… willing… to see the evidence that Hermione thought she had…

…

“Defence is going to be wicked this year,” James announced as he and the other fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws made their way out into the first floor corridor.

Carson looked to Trevor and they shared a knowing smirk, “Mate, you say that every year.”

“Because it is every year.”

“I’m excited too,” Rose interjected from next to James.

He grinned at his cousin before shooting a triumphant look at his friend, “See Carson. Rose understands.”

Carson rolled his eyes, “That’s because Rose understands everything. You can’t use that to prove your point.”

Rose gave him an exasperated look but couldn't help feeling flattered by Carson's comment. Together, the group turned the corner to head for the staircase. As they were rounding the corner though, Rose caught sight of a familiar face.

Amia was standing in a shadowed corner of the hall, talking with a tall blond boy. Rose's eyebrows shot up her forehead when she saw that she was talking to Tony Stonem, the Head Boy, and one of the most handsome blokes in school.

The boys seemed to stop next to Rose to also look in Mia's direction. Their reactions were quite similar.

Rose was just about to turn and usher the boys on when she noticed Amia's eyes travel over to hers. The new girl smiled and turned to Tony. Rose thought she was merely smiling hello, but a second later, Amia was walking straight for them.

“Hey,” Amia greeted Rose.

“Hi," Rose replied easily, though she could tell something was different with her new friend. "Second day go okay?”

Amia shrugged uncaringly, “It was alright.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose noticed James, Carson, and Trevor share baffled looks with each other. Rose knew that James wouldn't hint otherwise so she took the initiative.

“Oh, Mia, this is my cousin James, and his mates Carson and Trevor. They’re Gryffindors too.”

Amia politely nodded in their direction, “Hey.”

James resulted to his trademark grin and stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Trevor waved meekly and Carson stood stock-still as the exchange transpired. Rose wanted to laugh at the boys but for Amia's sake, she bit her tongue.

“So what are you up to now?” she asked instead.

Mia shrugged, “Just got out for the day. You?”

“Same.”

“How are you liking Hogwarts so far?” James asked. The other boys shot him flabbergasted looks, mystified by his no doubt brazen behaviour.

James, however, simply looked on in interest.

Again, Mia shrugged, “It’s cool. Interesting.”

He grinned, “I bet it’s a lot different than your old school.”

“Yeah,” Amia admitted, “It’s a lot different than Avalon.”

“Avalon?” This time it was Trevor who was working up the courage to speak. Carson shot him an incredulous look as the boy next to him shifted on his feet, “Where’s that?”

Amia tried to bite back her knowing smile as she answered, “Southern California, where I’m from.”

A strange guttural noise sounded from the back of Carson’s throat. Just as the rest of the group was turning to shoot him confused looks, he jerked his head at Amia.

“D-do they have quidditch there?”

Trevor looked in horror at the boy, while Rose and James both closed their eyes in embarrassment. Amia tried to glance between them for clarification, before turning back to the younger boy, “Uh, what?”

The sound earlier must’ve been Carson trying to clear his throat, because he did it again. “Quidditch?” he practically squeaked.

“We didn’t have a school team, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh.”

James wanted to slap his hand to his forehead to hide himself, but knew that wouldn’t do his struggling friend any good. Instead, he stepped forward to pat Carson on the shoulder and gave Amia an apologetic look, “Forgive my friend, he’s just a little shy around
new people.”

Amia shrugged, “No worries.”

“Er, right. So did you get a lot of homework in Defence too?” Rose asked her, also trying to clear the awkward tension.

She nodded forlornly, “Two foot essay on why it’s important. You’d think that being a sixth year, the professor would know that it’s all monotonous…”

“They’re probably in denial,” James suggested with a conspiratorial smirk.

Amia grinned, “They always are.”

Rose could honestly say that she disagreed a bit, but didn‘t want to put herself out there like that in front of her new friend. Instead, she turned to her and offered, “We were going to head to the library to get started. You want to join?”

Amia looked to her. She seemed somewhat hesitant, but eventually, she nodded, “Yeah. Why not?”

“Alright.” As they started off, heading down the rest of the hall for the stair case, James fell in stride with Amia and asked her if she’d ever played quidditch before. Rose knew he was only doing this as captain for the Gryffindor team, so she listened on in patience.

Amia was just starting to elaborate on her answer, and Trevor and Carson were just beginning to whisper hurriedly to themselves when a sound interrupted them.

Amia froze midstep, and James and Rose also came to a halt. Their eyebrows’ furrowed in concentration at the sudden noise.

“Did you guys hear that?” James asked, looking to his cousin.

Just as Rose was starting to shake her head, the noise sounded again. Only this time, it seemed to be more clear. Like a voice…

“MIA!”

“What was that?” James asked, not quite catching the name.

“Mia!”

Rose raised her eyebrow, “Are you guys hearing that too? It sounds like-”

Amia coughed loudly, and pulled her book bag more securely over her shoulder, “Er, I have to go. Catch you guys later.”

She didn’t give the four fifth years a chance to respond as she turned on her heel and headed off in the opposite direction. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up in anticipation as she threw herself into a girl’s loo, and barricaded herself into one of the
stalls.

Background noise through the connection was just starting to become clear as she threw down her bag, and reached inside her robes for something. With her heart racing a million miles a minute, she pulled out a thin, rectangular mirror. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw her friend’s anxious face on the other side.

“MIA!” the slim, bleach blonde girl with purple highlights screamed once she had steadied the mirror.

Amia grinned at Lindsey Kelly, her best friend of sixteen years. She knew it had only been a day and a half since she’d last seen her, but it seemed like much longer already.

“Linds, what’s with the screaming?”

“We never got a chance to test them from this long of a distance,” she explained, still a tone louder than necessary, “I wanted to make sure you heard me!”

“Yeah, I think half my school heard you.”

Lindsey laughed, “Nice. These mirror things are legit.”

Amia nodded as she sat down on the toilet, “At least the hard work we invested in them paid off. So what have you been up to?”

“Fucking nothing exciting,” Lindsey told her, also looking like she was sitting down, “It’s hard to get pumped for anything knowing you won’t be there.”

Amia sighed, “I’ve been bummin’ the last couple days too. Turns out I miss you guys a bit.”

Lindsey scoffed, “You miss me more than a bit, I know it.”

Mia figured that she wouldn’t have to confirm it since it was so true. Lindsey didn’t have to look too deep to figure it out. “So how’s everyone?” she asked instead.

“Eh…” Lindsey voiced sceptically, immediately tipping Amia off to something not so great, “Good for the most part.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Most part?”

“The implications of another school year kind of sucks, but whatever.” As she finished, she shot Amia a testing look. Amia could tell she looked a bit nervous and was just about to question her on it when she spoke.

“So…TJ misses you…”

Amia sighed. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about, and her best friend should’ve known that. She realized that Lindsey had the unfortunate job of looking out for both her and TJ, but still.

“Yeah, and I already said I missed you guys too.”

Lindsey let out a sigh, and Amia hoped that was a sigh of defeat. A few moments later, she was glad to hear her friend changing the subject, “So obviously the people there aren’t as cool as me, but have you been trying to make friends?”

Amia bit her lip as she nodded, “I met a few cool people.”

Lindsey raised her eyebrow, sensing there was something her best mate was refusing to tell her, “Any boys?”

Amia smirked, “One or two…”

She continued to smile as her friend laughed. In truth, there were a few cute British boys so far, but only one she thought she liked enough to be friends with. The boy in her Potions class actually seemed to be on the same page as her.

“Nice,” Lindsey complimented, “Anyone interested?”

Amia shot her a look. She knew just what Lindsey was fishing for, but Amia was determined to not give her any information she could use against her.

“I have school to worry about.”

Lindsey scoffed in agreement, “Yeah, and you better be on your best fucking behaviour. Dude, if you don’t get to come home, I swear I’ll rip my fucking hair out.”

“I know,” she consented quietly, “and trust me, I’ll be home by Christmas. Sooner, if there’s any luck.”

A comfortable silence passed between the two lifelong friends. Amia’s mind began to wonder off on the topic of finding a way to go home as soon as possible. Lindsey, though, was thinking of something entirely different.

A few more minutes passed, before Lindsey looked unsurely at Mia, “So… I heard Travis left the hospital yesterday.”

Mia’s breath caught in her throat, “Really?”

“Yeah. I guess he’s doing a lot better.”

Quiet again. Honestly, Amia didn’t know what to say to that. She knew what she wanted to say, but didn’t want to broach such a complicated topic at the moment when she was trying to reunite with her best friend. So instead, she simply nodded, “Good.”

“We could try and petition again-”

“Lindsey I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Lindsey conceded, not wanting to get into it now either, “So how is that place?”

Amia blew out an awed breath as she leaned against the wall, “The castle’s huge. It puts Avalon to shame. And the grounds are even more gnarly.”

“How’s the weather?” Lindsey asked, obviously searching for something bad about the place.

Amia grinned knowingly, “Fucking horrible.”

Lindsey smiled too, “So it’s not better than home?”

“It rates similarly, but in different ways,” Amia shrugged after a moment of thought.

Lindsey seemed to understand, so she changed the subject, “And your classes?”

“Decent,” Mia replied, “Looks like we really do get a more advanced education at Avalon. I’ve already been through a lot of the lessons…”

Lindsey raised an optimistic eyebrow, “But that’s perfect. You don’t have to pay attention in class!”

“Pretty much,” she shrugged indifferently, “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to get away with that though.”

“Tough professors?” Lindsey guessed benevolently.

“Not really, but…” Amia debated with herself over whether or not she should tell Lindsey about what happened yesterday with her Transfiguration professor. In the end though, she figured she couldn’t really keep quiet about it for any longer. She sighed as she went on, “I mean, there’s one teacher that stares at me like I’m some unidentified organism. It kind of creeps me out.”

Lindsey scrunched up her face, “Maybe he has the hots for you?”

“No,” Amia said, immediately dismissing the idea, “it’s a lady. Her daughter’s pretty chill though, and she said that it was her first year teaching, so I guess I can blame it on that.”

“Probably,” Lindsey acquiesced, “So besides that, nothing interesting?”

“Not really,” Amia answered, “How’s Malea?”

Lindsey looked like she was trying to fight back laughter, “You really want to know?”

Mia shrugged passively, “I feel like I’m obligated to ask.”

“She’s fine. I think. You know she has a harder time following us around once we go back to school…”

“I can rest easy knowing Mum has her hands full with her,” Amia muttered, allowing a small, albeit evil, grin spread over her lips.

Lindsey shook her head, “I doubt it. Kirsten’s been keeping pretty busy herself.”

At that, Mia’s face twisted into a disgusted expression, “Gross.”

“I guess you’re kind of lucky though,” Lindsey acknowledged, “I mean, at least you get to get away for a while.”

“Yeah…” A tense pause filled the air, giving both girls the chance to think off on their respective topics. Lindsey, on how she could get her best friend back as soon as possible; Mia, on how she was happy to be away from her actual family, but pissed to be separated unwillingly from the friends she considered her real family. Her mind even wandered over to the subject of Travis… and then unwillingly fell upon TJ. As soon as she realized what, or who she was thinking about, she blinked and cleared her throat. She loved her best friend, but she knew Lindsey was analyzing her. Right now, she just
wanted to be alone.

She gave Lindsey a sad smile as she started speaking, “Hey, I have to get going. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Lindsey sighed, but nodded nevertheless, “Alright. Love you ‘Mi.”

“Love you too Linds. Say hi to everyone for me.”

“Okay.”

The two friends shared one last smile, before Amia pressed her palm flat over the small mirror. She waited a few seconds, and when she lifted her hand off, Lindsey was gone.

She sighed once more to herself as she stuffed the mirror back into her pocket. At least she had a lifeline back to her life back home. Hopefully though, it wouldn’t stress her out too much.

It wasn’t that Amia didn’t want to stay in touch with people back in Newport… but she just felt like she needed to be away from their prying eyes for a bit. That’s why she hadn’t totally pegged coming to England as such a horrible thing. Even though it was cold, it was a good place to disappear for a while…

…

Hermione sat alone at her desk, her thumb bit gently between her teeth as her other traced lightly over the picture of her first baby. She knew there were other things she should’ve been doing all afternoon, but she literally couldn’t help herself. There was no way she could push Amia to the back of her mind so easily… or, for that matter, the conversation she’d had with Harry the previous night.

All she had intended to do was gaze at Amia’s baby picture for a few minutes. Alas, a few minutes turned into a few hours, and eventually she found herself flipping through the old album that Harry had given her when they’d first moved into their Boston flat. It was a bit
difficult to look at the pictures of her and Harry, so young, and so happy together… However, she couldn’t deny the twinge of delight she felt every time she saw her pregnant belly growing larger and larger over the foray of photos.

She flipped back a page, and saw the picture of her and Harry on Christmas morning. He had the ridiculous beanie she had attempted to knit for him on, and was kissing her cheek with his hands draped lovingly over her very pregnant belly.

Hermione couldn’t help but sigh as tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Harry had always been there for her back then. Why couldn’t he just be there for her now?

Hermione jumped slightly, and looked up startled at the door as the handle turned but unsuccessfully opened. Her chest heaved in relief that she’d remembered to lock the door before reminiscing.

A knock sounded as she quickly closed the photo album, and stuffed it into the bottom drawer on her desk. She straightened up in her chair before grabbing her wand and waving it at the door.

“Come in,” she called out as the door unlatched itself.

The door was pushed open from the other side. She was somewhat surprised to see Hugo walk in.

“Oh, hi sweetheart.”

“Hey Mum,” Hugo greeted. Hermione frowned at his hassled sounding tone. “Have you seen Tidbit?” Hugo asked once he reached her desk.

“Tidbit?” Hermione frowned, “No… shouldn’t he be in the owlery?”

Hugo shook his head, “I looked but he wasn’t there.”

“Oh. Did you have a letter to send?”

“Yeah, I was going to owl Dad. Have you heard from him? I haven’t yet…” Hugo finished in a mumble. Hermione’s frowned hardened as she watched her boy look down to his feet, and scuff his shoe at the ground. She sighed, suddenly furious with her husband.

“Oh, um, yes. Actually, I just got done writing him. He said he was very proud of you for making it in Gryffindor and that he knows you’ll do great,” Hermione quickly made up. She knew it was wrong to lie to her son, but she was only looking out for his best interest.
That didn’t make her feel as guilty, because to be honest, the only letter she’d received from Ron as of yet was one begging her to reconsider and come home. Hermione had discarded the letter almost as soon as she’d open it.

Instantly, Hugo brightened, “Oh, cool. Well do you think you can mail my letter anyway?”

“Sure babe.” Hermione took the letter and glanced down to it briefly. When she looked back up, she tried to muster a smile for her
oblivious son. She realized for the first time, that she hadn’t exactly looked into his activities since they’d been here either.

“So how have your classes been so far?” she asked, though she felt a little tense doing so.

Hugo shrugged, “They suck.”

“Excuse me?”

Hugo bit his lip as he looked up nervously to meet his mother’s stern glare. “I mean every class sucks except for Transfiguration,” he tried to redeem himself.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, “That wasn’t what I was going for. Why do they ‘suck’?”

“Because I already have homework!”

“Which is one of the main components of school,” she reminded him chidingly.

“I know, but I already got a lot…” Hugo whined, starting to scruff his feet against the ground again.

Hermione sighed, now more calm as she came forward to run a hand through his hair, “The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can have fun. Remember that.”

“Whatever,” he muttered unconcernedly, “So you’ll mail that to Dad?” he then asked, giving her a much more pointed look.

Hermione sighed as she straightened, “Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at dinner then.”

“Start on that homework,” Hermione called after him as he turned and headed for the door.

Hugo waved his hand behind him, but made no further comment to follow his mother’s instructions. Hermione let out a breath as she realized that she’d have to keep a close eye on Hugo this semester.

Once her son had closed the door behind him, Hermione looked down to the letter in her hand. Again, she was faced with the dreaded feeling which was the consequence of her decision. How was she supposed to explain to Hugo, a boy who was so in love with his father, that she couldn’t be with the man anymore? How could she explain in the
easiest terms that their family was being split in half?

Her heartbeat felt painful as she turned and glanced back to the desk that she knew held her old photo album. Maybe the most important question of all, was how the hell was she going to live with the fact that her children- all three of them- were living in the same tower, all completely oblivious to the depth of their relationship?

---

Please don't forget to review! Next chapter is an exciting one ;]

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 7: Private Lessons

---

[AN] Sorry for the long wait.

---

There was a loud chorus of laughter in the corner of the class. Hermione figured that maybe one of the sixth year students had transformed the porcupine into a pointy haired cat instead of the required blue bird. She didn’t care enough to look up. Her eyes were locked on the object of her affection, as they were every time Hermione was anywhere near Amia. This time though, there was a different manner to her stare. It wasn’t just adoration and curiosity; there was confusion in Hermione’s face too.

There were a few things she’d been having trouble understanding about Amia. A few strange things that Hermione was having trouble putting her finger on.

Part of her confusion stemmed from the fact how Amia barely ever showed up for meals. How was she eating? She was already quite skinny, so she shouldn’t be skipping the opportunity to eat. Hermione wasn’t sure if she even went to lunch; no matter how soon she tried to let out her midday class, she’d never been able to catch Amia in the Great Hall for her second meal.

She couldn’t pin it on maybe some sort of social awkwardness. Plenty of students- the whole school really- was fascinated with Amia. The boys gave her more than their fair share of attention, and each day Amia seemed to tolerate them with a flattered smile. However, there were a few people Hermione had spotted her hanging around. To her continued shock, Rose was one of those people. When Amia wasn’t missing from the social life of the school, Hermione found her walking around and talking with Rose.

Another point of ponder was how she was excelling in Transfiguration without ever participating in class discussions or group projects. Over the week, Hermione had tried to shake herself out of simply staring at the girl all period while she assigned the rest of the students reading out of the book. After all, she was here to teach these kids. She figured she could stare at her while she was working with the other students. But oddly enough, all Amia ever seemed to do in these groups was poke around in the corner. She didn’t add much to the learning atmosphere, and actually looked quite bored throughout the lessons. But then why was her homework flawless?

Hermione had done a lot of debating with herself. She knew under normal circumstances, she would’ve severely questioned a student who didn’t exude their academic ability in class, but did so as a part of the written homework. Naturally though, she couldn’t stoop herself into believing that Amia was cheating. She was convinced that it went beyond that. And that, was what Hermione had been debating for the past couple days. If it went beyond that… then shouldn’t she- as a good professor- find out what the problem is? Wasn’t that a part of her job?

Hermione was startled in her seat as the bell signaling the end of class rang. She’d already assigned the students their homework for the night, so when they all turned in their study groups to give her questioning looks, she tried her best to muster a smile.

“Have a good day,” she called out, a bit quietly. The students were too excited to get their things and go to notice her obvious nerves. Her eyes traveled addictively back to the California girl as she sauntered over to her table towards the back of her room.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione pushed herself up from her desk. Anxiously wringing her hands in front of her, she slowly made her way towards Amia while the rest of the students piled out of the class.

Her heart jolted as Amia hoisted the strap of her book bag over her shoulder, and straightened from the table. She noticeably froze when she saw Hermione standing a few feet away.

A suspicious looked flashed across her face before she relaxed it into a general composure. She gripped the strap of her bag tightly and began to turn away from Hermione- clearly attempting to make a hasty escape. Hermione, however, was quick to stop her.

"M-Miss Cooper, I-I was wondering if I could have a word?"

Amia frowned, now even more suspicious, "Actually, I have to be getting to Herbology, so-"

"Oh, I'm sure Neville won't mind. I can send a note with you if I have to," Hermione proposed, sounding a lot more sure of herself.

Mia's eyes narrowed slightly, but she figured there was no use arguing with the lady. She might as well get whatever she wanted to talk about over with as soon as possible.

"Okay…"

Hermione wanted to beam at the news that she was willing to stay and talk with her, but the rational side of her had to remind herself that she was only doing it because Amia was a student and she was her teacher.

Hermione's thoughts lead her off into more onslaughts of self-depreciation. She was just about to drown in another downpour of desperation, when the confused look on Mia's face prompted her to speak.

"Um, so h-how do you like your classes so far?"

Amia's expression remained stationary, "They're fine."

Hermione was quiet for a few seconds hoping that Amia would elaborate. When the girl stayed quiet, Hermione fumbled for something to say. She should've thought about this more...

"Oh. Good…"

Hermione wanted to kick herself at her daftness. She knew that if she didn't just spit out what she had wanted to talk to her about, Amia would most likely think she was a weirdo and run off. Then her chances at talking to her would be dashed. Even now, Amia was making not-so-subtle glances towards the door. She really needed to pull her head together, and quick.

"Er, right. So the reason I kept you behind today was to-"

"Is there a problem with my homework or something?" Hermione's eyes darted up to Amia's at her unexpected question, and found the girl to be staring unabashedly at her. Hermione was almost too shocked to answer.

"N-No. No! Your homework is perfect. By far the best this year… But that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about…"

"I don't understand. If my homework’s perfect, then what's the problem?" Amia kept her question free of disrespect or arrogance, but genuinely wanted to know why the hell she was being kept after for doing well. So far, Amia had just thought that her Transfiguration teacher was a bit batty for all the staring she did at her; she didn't
think she was actually crazy.

“Well,” Hermione started, suddenly nervous again. The last thing she wanted was to sound accusatory, “It’s just that you’re starting to look bored during class. And with your impeccable homework, it just made me wonder if… if you’ve already done this?”

Amia bit her lip, “What do you mean?”

“Have you already been taught this material before?”

A few moments passed where Amia weighed in what she could and couldn’t get away with. Weird and awkward, or not, Professor Granger did seem rather observant. Maybe she couldn’t get away with as much as she’d originally thought she could…

After another few seconds, Amia sighed, “I might’ve already been through inter-animal transformation at Avalon…”

Hermione couldn’t help the smile that appeared at the corner of her mouth, “Wow…” she mused to herself, “But when did you learn it? Usually you have to go through a semester of 6^th year charms to be able to change one animal into another. I thought I was only giving you guys a taste…”

She shrugged, “We were taught that all at once last year.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, but couldn’t take her eyes off her, “So my lessons have been boring you?"

"They're not boring," Amia quickly denied, "It's just that I kind of already know it all. It's a nice review…"

Hermione's heart swelled with her humbleness. As she started to lead off into her adoring stare of the girl, once more getting lost in awe, a thought struck her that made her heart start to pound immediately.

It wasn't exactly beneficial to keep Amia in a class that she already understood through and through. But then again, placing her in a 7th year class might be too difficult... Oh, who was she kidding? Amia probably knew 7th year transfiguration too.

As a professor, Hermione had a duty to teach her students- not tell them stuff they already knew. And Hermione was Amia's teacher... Now that she knew the truth, she couldn't just very well ignore it, could she?

Hermione glanced up at Amia, and found her looking back towards the exit. The idea that she was looking for an escape encouraged Hermione to speak.

"So... So where did you get to in Transfiguration before you came here?"

"Prime-mate cloning," Amia replied with a light shrug.

"Normally Hogwarts students wouldn't get to that until the end of their 7th year," Hermione told her, trying to stay calm and collected.

"Oh," Amia muttered listlessly.

"I-I don't think it's wise to leave you in a class when you already know the content...."

"You mean I don't have to take Transfiguration?" Amia asked, her voice tinged with her own form of excitement.

Hermione shook her head, "No. More like… Well, I could give you private lessons."

Amia had to catch her mouth from falling open. "P-Private lessons?" she stammered.

Hermione nodded, "Yes. Lessons that are crafted to your advanced level of knowledge."

"I'm not that advanced… I was just taught it already."

"Trust me Amia. You know more than the 7th years in this subject."

Amia wanted to raise her eyebrow at Professor Granger's notion to trust her. However, letting herself get weirded out by the woman, even more than she already was, probably wouldn't do any good.

"Can't you just turn the other cheek?" she mumbled pathetically, knowing what the answer would be before she even tried.

Hermione bit her lip, "You're here to learn, aren't you?"

She sighed in defeat, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"I promise I'll make it worth your while," Hermione managed, her excitement teetering.

Amia's eyebrows raised, but she didn't comment on how her professor seemed so excited for this. "So I guess I don't really have a choice?" she asked just to clarify.

Hermione shook her head, shooting her a small smile, "You can use the first period class to do your other homework."

"Oh, I still have to go to first period?"

Hermione's smile slowly fell from her face. Her eyes refocused and bore down into the eyes that troubled her dreams on a nightly basis. It was selfish. She knew Amia would think so too, but she could not sanely allow her baby to be away from her any more than necessary.

"For now," Hermione whispered, with no intentions to ever think about changing her mind.

Amia sighed through her nose, "Fine. When do you want to start?"

"Tomorrow."

"Here?"

"Yes. Just come after dinner."

Amia nodded curtly, "Can I go now?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, finally breaking her pained daze, "Um, do you want a note?"

"I'll be fine."

Amia didn't say goodbye. She simply turned and walked away from Hermione, who continued to stare after her before she turned and disappeared out into the hall.

…

The Next Day…

…

Amia sat at the Gryffindor dinner, amidst a group of chattering teens. This was the first time she’d actually sat down to eat dinner, but she hadn’t touched much of her food. Her thoughts were elsewhere that evening, as she passed away the time before she’d have to head down to Professor Granger’s classroom.

Private lessons. The idea still sucked to her. Why did she care so much that Amia was good at Transfiguration? Why did she have to care?

“I can’t picture her being that tough on you,” Rose said from next to her.

Amia nodded. Rose had been the only person she’d told about these new lessons. It had crossed her mind that she might be able to ask Rose to get her mom to back off, but she didn’t want to put her in the middle of her issues. Even though this sucked, she had conceded to the fact that she would have to go.

“I mean, if she’s taking the time to give you private classes then she’s probably putting together some really interesting lessons.”

“Yeah,” Amia mumbled, twisting her fork stuck in the center of the noodles piled on her plate. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up and once again found a few random kids staring at her. She sighed, setting down her fork. This was why she didn’t come to dinner. These British kids obsessed too easily over nobody’s.

“I’m going to get going,” Mia said to Rose, reaching underneath the table to pick up her book bag.

Rose gave her an encouraging smile, “Good luck. Don’t let my mum scare you. That woman does love her transfiguration.”

In response, Amia let out a weak laugh. She waved once more at Rose and muttered something about seeing her later, before she headed off down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table. A waving hand caught her eye, and she spared Tony a little grin. Besides that, she managed to make it out of the Great Hall unscathed.

Amia was starting to remember her way around the castle, therefore she had no trouble finding the staircase and getting on. To her happiness, with a little extra grip placed on the railing of the ancient moving staircase, it ceased from wildly changing direction too much.

Before she knew it, dread had descended upon her as she found herself standing outside of the transfiguration classroom.

Hermione turned at the sound of a knock on the open doors to her classroom. She had just been coordinating the desks in order to give her and Amia enough space to practice that night. A smile overtook her concentrating expression as soon as she laid eyes on Amia.

“Hello Amia.”

She nodded at her acknowledgement, “You can call me Mia.”

“Oh, okay… It’s a nice name.”

Amia raised an eyebrow as Hermione immediately closed her eyes, reprimanding herself for being so stupid. Earlier, Hermione had made a conscience promise that she would do her best not to make Amia uncomfortable. That included staring and blurting out random compliments.

“Thanks?” Amia asked, unsure of what else to say to that.

Hermione bit her cheek, “You’re welcome.”

“Right, so…”

“You can set your stuff over in the corner,” Hermione told her, nodding off to the side as her confidence and authority came crawling back to her, “You’re only going to need your wand tonight.”

Amia did as she was told and walked over to the corner to drop off her bag. Since she didn’t normally carry her wand with her, she had to dig around inside for a few seconds to find it. When she found it hidden underneath her Potions text, she stood up with it and turned back to Professor Granger to wait for more instructions.

Hermione took a deep breath as Amia came to stand in front of her, “Since there’s no text book beyond 7^th year transfiguration, I figured we’d work mostly with the physical side of transfiguration. Initial theory is very important, but tonight I want to focus on what you already know.”

“Okay.”

“Right now, I want you to show me what you can do.”

Amia frowned, “Excuse me?”’

“Show me what you can do,” Hermione repeated, a wry grin playing at her lips.

Amia waited a few minutes, waiting for Granger to further explain. When no explanation came, and the professor continued to look at her expectantly, Amia shook her head, “I don’t know what to do.”

Hermione bit her lip and started looking around for something to use. She looked to the left and smiled. “The desk,” she announced walking towards it, “What can you do to it?”

“What do you want me to do to it?” Amia shrugged, starting to get bored.

“I want you to use your imagination,” Hermione said, for the first time looking straight at her and not getting shaky. She was surprised, but it was overpowered by her desire to actually watch Amia perform.

Mia sighed, now looking somewhat nervous, “I’m not good at showing off.”

“Try,” Hermione encouraged.

Amia let out another breath before turning to the desk. She had to remind herself to raise her wand as an idea formed in her mind.

With her wand trained unwavering on the wood object, she whispered four words, “Incohare aurum piscis piscis.”

The desk trembled for a moment before it suddenly disappeared in a whirlwind of brown. If Hermione had blinked, she would’ve missed it. But since she was paying such close attention, she saw the final effects of Mia’s spell.

A smile spread over her face as Hermione walked forward and bent to pick up the clear glass full of water. Inside the glass, a small, bright orange fish was innocently swimming around.

“This is amazing,” Hermione muttered, still marveling at the display.

Amia shrugged as she scratched the back of her head. “It’s not that hard if you just know the spell…” Again with the humbleness. Of course she wouldn’t know where that trait came from- but to Hermione, it was so perfectly clear just how much of Harry Potter’s daughter she was.

Hermione turned to set the goldfish on another desk before turning back to Mia. She gave her an encouraging nod.

“Keep going.”

…

Harry’s thoughts were thousands of miles away as he made the routine walk down to the law office in the Ministry.

Work had been extremely dull, and it was even harder to go home and see Ginny at night with thoughts of Hermione and Lilly on his mind. Being so mentally preoccupied, he was actually fine with the fact that it was his turn to take care of non-field work. Being a team leader, he could easily get one of the interns to do this, but he liked to be fair.

As Harry rounded the corner, he saw the door to the lawyer’s office who he was supposed to drop off his current workload to. The case in question was a dispute between a husband and a wife, which was incidentally enough something this lawyer specialized in.

The door was open. With a smidge of relief, Harry figured that the lawyer, Henry Pettlebone, was in working at the moment. This was good; he didn’t feel like going through the trouble of finding Pettlebone’s secretary and actually having to open his mouth to speak to him or her when he could barely form a coherent sentence.

However, once he reached the door his spirits fell. Pettlebone was nowhere in the small, square office. Harry sighed. Just his luck…

A moment passed where he briefly entertained the thought of going to find the lawyer’s secretary. In the end, apathy got the better of him and he walked forward, readying himself to just drop the paperwork on the man’s desk.

The light file landed innocently enough amidst other folders and parchment rubbish. Though, the force of it did move a couple papers off a small haphazard stack, making Harry catch the beginning of a name. That name made him stop dead in his tracks.

Moving without knowingly doing so, Harry pulled the file out so that he could read the title of the folder clearly. His jaw locked as soon as he saw that he hadn’t been imagining anything.

In legible black ink, the words Granger vs. Weasley were scrawled across the tab of a manila folder.

Harry’s blood began to pulse. He knew he had absolutely no right to be doing so, but the rational thought never made it through to his brain, already clouding with possibilities of what this could be. Granger vs. Weasley- did Granger mean that Hermione was divorcing Ron? But then again, Pettlebone specialized in spousal disputes, primarily abuse.

The mere thought made Harry clench his fists. He reached forward for the file-

“Oh, Mr. Potter!”

Harry spun on his heel so hard, he probably could’ve apparated if it weren’t for the lack of destination. Damn Pettlebone. Why did he have to show up right when Harry wanted to see the reason for Hermione’s case?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be here so soon. That’s the Marcus testimony, I take it?” the tall, thin wizard asked pointing to the file Harry had just dropped on his desk.

“Er, yeah,” Harry muttered, forcing himself to breath.

“Jolly good. I appreciate you walking it over.” The man smiled kindly at Harry, maybe expecting for him to make small talk. Though, Harry was in no condition to talk to the bloke. His knees were nearly knocking together for Merlin’s sake. If he didn’t get out of that office soon, he was sure something would blow up.

“Yeah. See you,” was all he could manage before he fled. He was positive that he attracted some odd stares as he hurried through the halls of the law office, back towards the main corridor.

Part of him was telling him to calm down, and that Hermione’s business was her own. However, the second, greater part of him was exploding with the possibilities of Ron physically harming her. He had never thought his old friend capable of abuse; but then again, he never thought Ron would cheat on Hermione either.

And now what was he going to do? It’s not like he could go back to Pettlebone and ask to know why Hermione had a case with him. Nor could he demand to see those documents. Breaking in was a possibility, but the ramifications if he were caught were too great. If only James hadn’t taken his bloody invisibility cloak, he could go sneak a peak at the file now. Going and checking one out from the Auror supplies department would take too long, and he really couldn’t wait.

Suddenly, the answer was clear. If he couldn’t rely on her case file to tell him what was going on, he’d just have to go to Hermione directly.

He needed to go to Hogwarts. Tonight.

---

Harry and Hermione next chapter.

Please review.

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 8: Won’t Waste One Second with Her

---

[AN] Thanks for the reviews.

---

With a swish of her wand, Hermione sent the desk that she had let Mia use as her main object back into its correct spot. It had taken her a couple tries to return the jar of bluebell flames back into a non-smoldering wood, but eventually she’d managed it. To be honest, she was too busy marveling over Amia’s talents to even think about how she had seemed to perfect something that Hermione herself had never tried. Ingenious seemed too belittling to describe Amia.

A knock at the door interrupted Hermione’s inner monologue. She looked up with a frown, immediately thinking that it was Amia and that maybe she had left something.

“Come in!” she called, standing up from her desk.

Hermione was definitely not expecting the face that appeared behind the door. Her frowned narrowed into suspicion as Harry closed the door behind him and turned to face her. She took note of the dark look on his face as she addressed him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Harry said, walking up to her at her desk.

She took a step back as he came to stand before her. She couldn’t help the first thing that came to her mind. Was he really here to warn her about Amia again? If it didn’t work the first time, what made him think he had a right to try again?

“About what?” Hermione asked, tense.

“I was at work. I had to turn in a testimony to the solicitors office. When I went to the lawyer’s office I saw a case on his desk.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his explanation. That definitely wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear, “Okay…”

Harry didn’t hesitate before he spoke next, “What’s going on with you and Ron?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione answered him belligerently. However, she would’ve been lying if she said her heart hadn’t started racing as she began connecting the dots.

Harry’s expression hardened further, “What are you doing giving a case entitled Granger versus Weasley to Henry Pettlebone for?”

Hermione froze. She hadn’t expected him to ask her so bluntly. The answer was on the tip of her tongue, even though she had figured she wasn’t ready to tell anyone. She hadn’t even told her kids. But telling her kids and telling Harry were two different things.

“That’s none of your business Harry,” she finally spoke after a few moments.

Harry scoffed, “I like to think differently.”

“It doesn’t concern you!” she exclaimed this time, heated since Harry sounded so domineering.

“The hell it doesn’t! You know Pettlebone specializes in spousal disputes?”

Hermione glared at him, “I’m aware of that.”

What happened next both shocked and softened her at the same time. It was a simple question that implied such complicated things…

“Has he hurt you?” Harry asked, in a much more controlled tone.

Hermione sighed. Physically, Ron had never hit her and she would never lie about that. But mentally… His actions should’ve incurred hurt. But Hermione didn’t feel that upset. She was more upset over the fact that her kids would have to deal with Ron’s actions too. Maybe her pride had been a bit wounded. Scratch the bit. It was embarrassing, that was for sure. What would people think when they found out that Ron had gone to other woman to find satisfaction? At least a few would take it out on her. But besides all that, Hermione knew she shouldn’t be hurt. She had never loved him… she had never really wanted to be with him…

She sighed, “Ron’s never hit me Harry.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked sharply. Hermione could tell he was using his Auror technique on her.

However, she only rolled her eyes in exasperation, “Yes.”

“Then why?” Staring into his burning gaze, she knew that Harry was at the point where he was so determined to find out, that it would happen with or without her consent.

Knowing that there was very little else she could do, she sighed, “Henry is a friend from uni. That’s why I gave my case to him.”

“Why do you have a case? What is it about?” His eyes were rimming with anticipation as he spoke.

Hermione closed her eyes for one brief moment. She could lie to him; tell him something that was completely different from the truth. But then that would only be another factor moving her away from her intended target. Taking the initiative to actually file was a huge step forward, and even though she didn’t like it, admitting it to Harry was another. She took a deep breath.

“I’m divorcing Ron.”

Harry’s jaw went slack, “You’re divorcing?”

“We separated when I came here,” Hermione explained, “The kids don’t know and I want it to stay that way until I figure out exactly what I’m doing and how I’ll handle it.”

“I understand,” Harry nodded, his tone suddenly much more gentle. He honestly didn’t know how to act now. Hermione and Ron divorcing was huge. She might not have known it, but it had a huge effect on him too.

“Are…”

Hermione frowned at his suddenly faraway expression, “What?”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked quietly, shyly meeting her eyes. He didn’t know if he had a right to be asking Hermione this, but he needed to know.

Hermione shrugged, “Yes. I’m fine. It’s going to be difficult… but I’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Harry whispered, wanting so badly to take a step forward and take her in his arms. Despite what she said, he knew that her indifferent demeanor was just a show. She had to be hurting on the inside. The thought of Ron being the cause for that pain literally made him want to clench his fists. That stupid selfish wanker had hurt Hermione, and for what? To satisfy his ridiculous desires? Did he not understand what kind of consequences that would have? Why Ron would even want to take the risk of losing Hermione was a mystery to him.

Hermione stood there for a minute, studying Harry’s expression. It was a second before her confused look set into a frown and she shook her head, “You know, don’t you?”

Harry jerked his eyes up to her and found the emotion he had been looking for. Unfortunately, it was directed at him. Even with that in mind, all he could think to do was tell the truth, “Yeah.”

“So what, you guys talk about it?” Hermione asked snappishly.

Harry quickly shook his head, “No! I saw him a couple weeks ago… at the Cannons party. He was with her then.”

The room went quiet for a moment after that. Hermione’s fiery look faded, and she turned her eyes down to stare at something on her desk. When she nodded, Harry’s heart sunk. Not realizing he was moving, he walked around her desk and pulled on her shoulder so that she was facing him.

“He’s a dumb git Hermione. I swear I’ve been fighting the urge to pound his face in

every time I see him.” Whatever she might be feeling, she had to know that he, at least, was on her side. He wouldn’t betray her like Ron had.

Hermione only shrugged again, “He’s just a bloke. Don’t let it get you so heated.”

“Don’t make excuses for him,” Harry scorned.

“I’m not making any excuses for him!”

Harry bit back his retort, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, he asked, “How long have you known?”

Immediately, he knew that she would be reluctant to divulge any information to him. He could tell so by the way Hermione drew her bottom lip up and clenched it between her teeth. He’d always been able to decipher her mannerisms. Her diversion techniques wouldn’t be working this time though.

“He said he’d stop a long time ago,” she mumbled with a light shrug.

“That bastard…”

“Harry, I’ve come to terms with it,” Hermione said calmly. This time she didn’t look indifferent, or truly upset. It was more of a genuine tone that she was taking, “We’re not in love. I can’t expect him to love me when I…”

“Don’t?”

Can’t. Hermione bit her lip, “Right.”

“You should’ve dropped him when you first found out,” Harry muttered angrily.

She only shook her head, “No… that would’ve destroyed Rose and Hugo. Even now I have no idea how I’m going to tell them…”

“You should be honest with them,” Harry suggested, trying to calm himself down. Hermione always was pretty selfless when it came to her kids. It made sense that she was putting them first, even if that meant she had to suffer. “They’re going to be upset either way,” he tried to convince her regardless.

Harry was happy to see her nod, but when she shrugged a second later he knew he hadn‘t really gotten through with her. “I haven’t decided anything yet. I’ve been too preoccupied,” she said.

“Doing what?” he asked, now curious.

Hermione hesitated. Instantly her eyes started to dart around the room, “Just… work and everything… Um, I’m going to go put some of these books away. Be

right back.”

Before he had time to question her, Hermione bent over and scooped up some of the large transfiguration tomes on her desk that she had let Amia peruse through during her lesson, and practically ran from the class.

Harry watched her disappear into her office, with a steady frown set upon her face. He knew she could’ve easily had those books back in their place with a simple wave of her wand. He also knew that her cowardly escape was another one of her diversion tactics. She was trying to hide something, but what?

Harry found himself starting to glance around the classroom. It was just like McGonagall’s old class, except it had a slightly more aged feel to it. Even Hermione’s desk, despite how cluttered it was, seemed like an antique version of the now headmistress. Harry frowned as he noticed the unorganized array of papers, folders, and quills on Hermione’s desk. Usually she kept her work area very neat. Maybe the stress of teaching was getting to her…

He bent and picked up a broken quill and then tossed it in the rubbish bin. As he turned back, his eyes caught sight of a name in the midst of Hermione’s desk.

He couldn’t tell when his body numbed over, just that it did sometime after seeing the name Amia Cooper neatly scrawled on a piece of parchment.

He didn’t know what instinct lead him to do it, but he picked up the parchment and let his eyes absorb all of the things Hermione had claimed made this girl their Lilly. And sure enough, she had been telling the truth:

Name, Amia Cooper… D.O.B., 1/21/1993… Residency, Newport Beach, California, United States of America…

When Hermione came back from dropping the books off, she saw Harry, with his back to her, hunched over something in his hand, looking like he was reading. As she quietly walked towards him, she noticed an open file laying on top of her desk.

Immediately, she narrowed her eyes, “I never knew you to be so nosy.”

Harry jumped and spun on his heel to face an angry looking Hermione. As soon as he did, she snatched the paper out of his hands and moved past him to return it to the folder on her desk.

His jaw flexed as she did so, “Don’t tell me I don’t have a right to look at that.”

“I thought you made your feelings perfectly clear last week,” Hermione snapped, turning around to glare at him, “You don’t want anything to do with her, and that’s fine. But you can’t stop me from getting to know her.”

Hermione knew what this was about. When Harry saw the file open to Amia’s paper, he probably thought she was still acting like some obsessed loony in her pursuits to see Mia. The idea that Harry was about to give her another lecture irritated her to no end.

“I never said I didn’t want anything to do with her,” Harry argued stubbornly.

She scoffed, “How many times did you tell me to leave her alone that night? Your intentions were obvious.”

“Well the things you were suggesting called for me to tell you that.” Even though Harry was frustrated, he wasn’t getting nearly as defensive as Hermione.

“Come off it,” Hermione said rudely, glaring unabashedly at him, “I wasn’t suggesting anything- I just want to get to know her.”

“Hermione-”

“What?!” she shouted.

Harry didn’t reply immediately, instead he allowed a silence to engulf them where Hermione stood before him, still heated and breathing heavily. Finally, when he thought she was calmed down enough, he spoke.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I have no fucking clue how to act or what to do right now. I just know that, despite what we might be inclined to do…” he said, putting a strong emphasis on ‘we’, because she was wrong if she believed that he could simply ignore this girl’s presence at Hogwarts.

“…She’d be devastated if you or I said anything to her. She grew up thinking that she was her parents child. You’re still a stranger to her…” he finished, trying to be as gentle as possible. The last thing Harry wanted to do was fight about this with Hermione. He just wanted her to remember why they gave Lilly up in the first place. It was for her safety and happiness. He figured that always should’ve been their first thought. The desires they had to reach out to her would spoil that if they dared ever try.

And thankfully, Hermione seemed to agree after a few moments. “I know that,” she breathed, letting her angry glare disappear from her face. A look of defeat replaced it, and somehow, that made Harry feel worse.

Hermione picked up another book of her desk, and Harry figured that she wanted to make another escape so that she didn’t have to face him. He thought about stopping her as she started walking back towards her office, but decided against it. She probably wanted to be alone. Harry turned back to Amia’s file on the desk. He would’ve been lying if he’d said that the thought of being alone with the California girl’s file wasn’t alluring either.

Hermione turned back to him, a thought on her mind, just as Harry was about to pick up the piece of parchment again. She was quiet for a second, wondering how to best phrase her question. However, when she saw the look of unmistakable longing cross his face as his hand grazed over her file, she knew she didn’t have to beat around the bush.

“Do you ever just think about her?” Her question was barely more than a whisper, but Harry turned to face her as if she had been right in front of him.

“Yeah Hermione. I used to think about her all the time.”

“But?”

Harry sighed. It was a moment before he shrugged, “But real life got in the way. Constantly thinking about her and wishing that things could’ve been different never made it any easier. We have kids of our own that need our attention more then a memory of her does.”

“A part of me wishes I could feel like that.”

“Hermione-”

“I know I can’t say anything,” Hermione cut him off before he could even think about starting to lecture her, “but I’ll never be able to accept that she’s not mine. She is my daughter… just not in the way that matters most.”

Harry was quiet, but then he nodded. It seemed that idea wasn’t too hard to grasp for him, which somewhat surprised Hermione since he seemed to be so convinced that this girl belonged to someone else.

“Our theory worked, at least,” Harry said quietly after another few seconds, “I mean, she’s alive… she’s healthy. She was able to have the normal childhood we wanted her to have.”

Even though Hermione nodded in response, she couldn’t fight the feeling that maybe that assumption wasn’t completely true. There were just too many things- odd things- that didn’t make sense concerning Amia.

She had her theories, but she wasn’t ready to divulge them to Harry. She wanted to find out more first. So instead, she asked the next question that had been plaguing her for the past week. “What do you think happened to those people?”

An second was all it took for a dark look to come over Harry’s features. He scoffed, “Who knows? Maybe they found some other innocent people to prey on…”

“Or maybe they only cared about ruining our lives,” Hermione suggested, just as spitefully.

At her comment though, Harry seemed to soften, “Hermione, our lives weren’t ruined.”

Hermione looked at him with incredulous eyes. So she was wrong; Harry wasn’t as effected by Amia as she was. She snorted, “I haven’t had one day go by were I haven’t thought about her. She’s always been on my mind. Do you know how hard it is to look at Ron, and my kids, and my parents in the eye knowing that they have no clue about why I feel half empty? You can’t possibly fathom how much my life’s been effected by that girl.”

“Yes I can,” Harry said with an obstinate frown.

She shook her head, “You don’t act like it.”

At that, Harry’s eyes narrowed into a glare, “Obviously we had different ways of dealing with it.”

His statement was like a knife in the chest for Hermione. She knew exactly what he was referring too; something she knew was the prime reason their relationship changed forever. She had no good retort as guilt consumed her, so she just nodded, “Yeah, obviously…”

“Hermione, we can’t change the past-”

“But I can change the future,” she interjected, “Now that she’s here, I’m not going to waste one second with her.”

Now Harry’s narrowed eyes looked suspicious, “What are you planning on doing?”

“I’m not planning any elaborate scheme if that’s what your thinking,” Hermione defended herself, “She needs special lessons in Transfiguration.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What, is she behind or something?”

“No. She’s advanced. Very advanced. She knows more than the 7^th years, so I’m going to start giving her lessons beyond the Hogwarts level,” she explained to him, happy that she was able to keep her voice so level. This was for school, so he couldn’t argue about extra lessons.

“And how does she feel about that?” Harry asked.

For the first time since he showed up that evening, a smile appeared at the corner of Hermione’s mouth, “She’s not as obsessed with school as I was. I think she gets that from you. But she did seem to enjoy herself. She’s very talented.”

“Well she must get that from you,” Harry replied with a smile of his own.

Harry could tell his compliment definitely pleased Hermione. Despite her growing grin, she shrugged lightly, “She doesn’t like showing off her talent, though.”

He nodded, “That’s a good quality.”

“She’s humble… but I can’t tell if it’s an insecure humble or not.” The smile on her face slowly fell as her expression overtook with concern. Harry could tell she was reliving certain experiences with the girl, and he hadn’t expected the twinge of jealously he felt because of that.

It had only been a little over a week, but already Hermione seemed to know a lot about their girl. The desire to also know seemed as easy as instinct.

“Tell me more?” he asked.

Hermione’s eyes bore into his for a brief moment, just long enough to see the magnitude of genuine curiosity radiating there. It didn’t take her long to nod in reply.

…

Harry quietly climbed the stairs in his darken home, making sure to pass over the creaks for the sake of anyone hopefully sleeping in the house. It was late; he and Hermione had talked for hours at Hogwarts. Talking to her was almost easy again. The feeling that he and Hermione were getting back to good terms was ineffable to him. It was a type of happiness and gratefulness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once they had realized that it was two in the morning, and time for Harry to leave, he had made sure to tell Hermione that if she needed anything at all, then don’t hesitate to come to him. She had said she wouldn’t, but Harry still hoped she would take him up on the offer soon. He didn’t want to go so long without talking to her, especially now that they were on speaking terms again.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his bedroom door. To his pleasure, the lights were off inside, meaning that Ginny should already be asleep. Just as he expected, when he edged the door open, his wife was snoring lightly, curled up on her side of the bed. As his eyes rested on Ginny, his mind drifted back to Hermione and her impending divorce. She had said she wanted the divorce because she and Ron didn’t love each other anymore. Harry couldn’t help but think that was the right reason for a divorce. It wasn’t out of revenge, because Ron had cheated on her. She was just acknowledging the truth that had been there for who knows how long. Maybe they never even really did love each other.

Harry sighed, and turned to walk into his closet. Despite his hopes, he knew that wasn’t something he could ask Hermione. Not now at least. But the thought did make him think about his own relationship. If you don’t love each other, then why would you ignore that? Of course, there were several small reasons why. But to Harry, they all came back to one conclusion.

You shouldn’t.

---

Next chapter, Rose and Amia go to visit Hagrid.

Please REVIEW!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 9: An Unmistakable Face

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[AN] Thanks for the reviews.

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It was amazing how Rose, with only the slightest determination, could block out the background noise in the common room and zone in on the book perched in her lap. And it wasn’t just her fascination with An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms, either. Rose had always had a knack for blocking other people and things out when it came to reading- which was a justifiable reason why a heavy tome dropped down on the table before her.

Rose jumped in her seat, but had enough sense to mark her page as she did. She looked up from her mid-noon Saturday enjoyment and glared at her brother.

“Rude much?”

“I need to talk to you,” Hugo said, ignoring her crisp tone. He was holding a rolled up scroll of parchment and had a pinched look about his face. Rose narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she noticed her brother’s ears a slight shade of red.

“What is it?” she asked sceptically.

Hugo took a deep breath, as if he was about to start an explanation, “Rose, I have a lot of homework.”

“Okay…”

“James and Al and Carson and Trevor invited me to go play quidditch with them today…”

She raised her eyebrow, finally seeing what her brother was getting at. She attempted to divert him, “I’m sure they’ll understand that you have homework to do.”

“But Rosie… the homework’s really hard,” Hugo said, starting to whine, “and I have to show the guys that I have skills now if I’m going to be considered for the house team.”

“Hugo I am not doing your homework for you,” Rose said flatly. She sat back in her chair, preparing herself to go back to her reading.

Hugo, however, would have none of this. He threw down his scroll on top of the book and then proceeded to cross his arms. “Mum said you were supposed to help me if I ever needed help!”

Rose glared up at him, “Yeah, help you- not do your bloody homework while you go fly around on your stupid broom.”

Unbeknownst to the squabbling siblings, the portrait door had just opened. Amia came through the portrait hole with a somewhat uneasy look about her. However, when she saw Rose and Hugo at the desks in the corner of the room, an amused grin appeared at her lips. She could tell immediately that the hassling she had taken from Lindsey that morning was nothing compared to the treatment Rose was getting right now from her little brother. She looked like she was about to tear her hair out…

Quietly, she started over to the two redheads as they continued their argument.

“Why are you such a shrew?” Hugo asked sourly.

“Why are you such an idiot?” Rose said back.

“I’m not an idiot!”

“Then do your own homework!”

“Quidditch is more important!”

Amia figured now was a good time to break them up, so she slipped up in between them, and nudged Hugo playfully on the shoulder, “Come on Hugo, I’m sure your skills aren’t going to disappear over a few hours. If you do your homework today, then everyone will be much more shocked by your talent at try outs.”

Hugo immediately blushed at Mia’s sudden presence. The remnants of the fight he had just been having with his sister vaporized in his mind as he looked into the eyes of the oh-so-persuasive new girl. He still hadn’t understood how his sister could make friends with such a- a cool and interesting girl like Mia…

A couple of moments passed, but eventually Hugo nodded, “I guess your right. It probably won’t even take me that long to finish… it doesn’t look that hard.”

Mia grinned and Rose’s face literally fell in shock. “Exactly,” she agreed.

Hugo tugged once on the end of his shirt- a nervous habit of his- before bending down to scoop up his book and scroll. “See you later,” he muttered to the two girls before turning and hurrying back to the boy’s staircase.

“How did you do that?” Rose asked, still baffled by her brother’s quick change of heart.

Mia shrugged as she sat down next to Rose, “I’m very persuasive. What are you doing?”

“Reading.”

“But it’s the weekend,” Mia said, her tone almost sounding confused.

Rose gave her a pointed look, “I thought you just convinced my brother that doing homework on the weekend was cool?”

“You’re not your brother,” Mia argued back confidently, “And plus, I’m figuring that you’re reading for luxury.”

A couple seconds passed before Amia sighed in amusement at Rose’s affirming shrug. “Just studying for O.W.L.s,” she tried to say casually.

Amia frowned, this time genuinely curious, “What’s O.W.L.s?”

“These major exams at the end of the year that determine which N.E.W.T. classes

you can take,” Rose recited, now surprisingly keen.

“Sounds riveting,” Mia replied dryly.

“Yeah, it’s really exciting when you think… that was sarcasm, wasn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve never been to good at picking that up…”

“So these tests are towards the end of the year?” Mia cut her off with a condoning smile. She thought Rose was cool just the way she was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think the girl needed some time outside the confines of control. Amia definitely thought Rose needed to let loose a bit.

“Yes, but it’s never too late to start studying,” Rose replied ardently, “Plus, I don’t have anything else to do. My patrols aren’t until nine.”

“Where is everyone?” Amia asked next, looking around the empty common room.

“Down at the pitch to watch the match.”

She peaked up, “Why don’t we go?”

“Watching people flying makes me sick,” Rose admitted, her lips twisted into an unfavourable frown.

Mia sighed, but didn’t lose hope, “Alright, what else is there to do?”

A couple of seconds passed, and then Mia was happy to see Rose close her book. She looked to Mia with an offer in mind.

“We could go see Hagrid.”

“Who?” Mia asked.

“Hagrid- he’s the care of magical creatures professor.”

The new girl’s shoulders fell and she gave Rose a reproving look, “I think we’re backtracking-”

“No, Hagrid’s really cool,” Rose said in her and the old gamekeeper’s defence, “He’s not like the other professors. My parents and aunt and uncle used to visit with him all the time.”

Mia bit her lip as she mulled it over. After a second, she shrugged and stoop up, “Well, if it gets us out of this common room, then I’m down. Let’s go.”

Rose glanced down to her book, taking one last longing look at it before nodding along with Mia. She set it down, and then stood up to head out of the common room with her new friend.

…

Rose laughed as Amia finished explaining to her an encounter she’d had with Slughorn earlier in the week. Like Rose had guessed, the potion’s professor had tried to induct her into the slug club. The excuse Amia gave him was something that she’d said was a typical American excuse. Though apparently, Professor Slughorn was a bit miffed when she told him that she couldn’t attend the dinner because she told her friend back home that she’d discuss tackling drunk gazelles with him.

Even Rose was a little confused with the expression, but she laughed all the same. She didn’t know what had changed in Amia, but she could tell that she was starting to loosen up. Maybe Mia was becoming more comfortable with Hogwarts. But whatever it was, Rose was happy to see her revealing more of herself.

“Alright, so I might be taking a little advantage of the culture gap…”

Rose laughed, “A little?”

The two friends were interrupted talking as they rounded the corner of the hall.

“Ah, Miss Weasley! And Miss Cooper! What a surprise.”

Mia and Rose looked up to see Professor Gustafson, the DADA teacher, smiling jubilantly and waving vigorously at them. Gustafson looked much like a seal as he did so, but Amia wasn’t about to voice her opinion. She was too caught up with the man standing next to the defence professor.

Rose didn’t seem as curious. She smiled at Gustafson, “Hello Professor.”

“On the topic of intelligent students, Hayden," now both of the girls had their eyes trained on the man their professor was talking to. This bloke- Hayden- didn't relax his stiff expression as Gustafson spoke. His bright amber eyes were instead staring intensely at Amia. Normally, she would've looked away, a bit embarrassed by the bizarre eye contact. But there was something about the way he was staring at her that made her unwilling to break the gaze.

"Let me introduce you to some of my favourites. This is Rose Weasley, and this is Hogwarts newest transfer, Amia Cooper.”

Amia didn't miss the way his eyes flickered. His eyes seemed to refocus, and suddenly he looked much less stern.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rose said for them. However, the man didn't acknowledge her back.

“Hayden was one of my more brilliant students at my old school. Lucky for me, he’s been apt to keep in touch with his old professor,” Gustafson chuckled, patting the bloke on the shoulder.

Hayden's eyes glanced down to the professor in disdain, “It hasn’t been a chore Arnold.”

Gustafson chuckled again, “Right, right. Well, now he’s a high-up at the Ministry. Just goes to show what a specialization in Defensive Magic can do for you, girls.”

Amia kept quiet in the background as Rose carried on the conversation, “What department are you in?”

“The Department of Mysteries,” Hayden said in a silky tone. The accent was unmistakably English, but it gave hints of being around a different language.

“Wow. Is it hard work? I have an uncle in the Auror department and he said-”

“Well if Harry Potter says so…”

Rose instantly fell silent. Mia narrowed her eyes at the bloke's rude interruption. What was that all about? Who was Harry Potter? Rose obviously understood Hayden's implication, or else she would've been confused too. Mia was still working over the exchange while Gustafson let out an overly-happy laugh.

“I tell you Hayden, these two are some of the brightest students in the school. And Miss Weasley here is a shoe in for Head Girl.”

Rose tried to hide her blush as Hayden gave her a look, “Your mother must be very proud of you.”

Rose suddenly looked up to him, “She is.”

Rose stared questioningly at the man as a slight, mysterious smile appeared at the corner of his lips. She didn't take her eyes off him as he went back to stare appraisingly at Mia.

Amia had been preoccupied taking in the stranger's unusually sharp appearance. His perfectly styled hair brought out the contrast between his high cheekbones and his unnaturally bright eyes. Even his robes, a pearly onyx colour seemed to play a part in his piercing demeanour.

It took a few minutes, but eventually she was able to pull her eyes away from him, “Um, we actually had a meeting with Professor Hagrid. We should get going.”

“Right,” Rose nodded.

“Ah, unfortunate, girls. Well I look forward to seeing you on Monday,” their Professor answered, sending them both cordial smiles.

Amia grabbed the back of Rose’s robes to start pulling the girl along with her around the two men, “You too, Professor. Have a nice weekend.”

“Of course girls.”

They had made it about five steps past them. Their backs were already turned, and both girls were trying not to make it seem like they were trying to escape as fast as possible. Their attempts weren’t taken with acceptance though. Just as Mia thought they were in the clear, a voice, as silky as before, called out to her.

“Miss Cooper?”

Begrudgingly, she stopped and turned, “Yeah?” To her surprise, the man seemed closer to her than when she had started walking.

“I hope to see you again,” he spoke coolly, his surprisingly full lips giving way to his shining white teeth.

Amia’s eyes slowly glanced down to Hayden’s outstretched hand. She was just about to reach out to touch it, when an inevitable force in her body quickly locked down. Her hands curled into fists.

She took a deep breath before looking up into his eyes again. “Bye,” was all she could muster, before turning and swiftly walking around the corner past Rose. The redhead lingered for only a moment, before turning and following the older girl.

The thin smile was back, playing at the corner of Hayden’s mouth. As his hand slowly lowered back to his side, Gustafson patted him on the back.

“Americans…” he chuckled merrily, “Anyway, let me show you my knew…”

Hayden tuned him out as spoke, his thoughts still focused on the unmistakable face of Amia Cooper.

…

“What a creep,” Amia muttered as soon as a branch of the staircase had led them away from the DADA professor’s corridor. She couldn’t get Hayden’s piercing eyes out of her mind; he seemed unnatural enough as it was, but the way he stared at her was simply eerie.

Rose nodded, “Yeah, that bloke was weird wasn’t he?”

“What’s he have against your uncle?” Mia asked, remembering how the man had turned cynical at the mention of Rose’s auror uncle.

Rose sighed. Normally she didn‘t like to tell stories about her Uncle Harry, because people would twist everything she said to make him sound like either a complete nutter or some mystical everlasting hero. But Amia wasn’t a random person. She was her friend, and she probably didn’t know about Harry anyway since she was American.

After a few seconds, she shrugged, “My uncle’s kind of famous for what he does. Some people just have a problem with that.”

Amia could tell that Rose had been determining what to reveal about her family member, so instead of questioning her on it, she just shook her head. “Jackass,” she muttered, her mind thinking back to Hayden.

“Yeah. Let’s just go see Hagrid,” Rose said as the staircase connected the ground floor. Mia nodded in agreement. Together, they started heading out through the entrance hall and stepped out past the oak doors into the bright sunlight of the autumn afternoon.

The air was crisp, causing the girls to walk a bit faster in the direction of Hagrid’s hut. Rose lead the way, and Amia followed. As she did, she couldn’t help but continue to marvel at the vastness of Hogwarts’ grounds. The place was truly beautiful. Mia could see now how the castle held such an element of homeliness for all of the students living there. It definitely wasn’t the cold prison she’d thought of it when she first arrived.

With their pace, it didn’t take long at all to walk across the grounds and reach Hagrid’s hut. Mia thought Rose would walk straight up to the old wooden door, but instead she leered off to the left of the house, back towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Mia was just about to question where she was going when she noticed a large mass standing in the middle of a premature pumpkin patch.

Oh. So this was Hagrid.

Amia’s eyes went wide like they always did when she took in the enormity of the old man who was standing with his back to the girls.

“Hey Hagrid,” Rose greeted from the edge of the garden.

The huge man turned around with a curious look on his face, that instantly turned into a boomerang sized smile when he caught site of Rose. The gamekeeper’s hair had turned a wiry white over the years, and his pupils had long since been spotted with milky cataracts. However, these impairments didn’t stop him from coming forward with the same childlike enthusiasm he always possessed.

“Oh, hello there Rosie!” he replied, pulling her forward into a tight hug. “And Hermione too!” Mia was too busy cringing from the force as he pulled her in with his other mitt of a hand to be confused over what he had called her.

Rose laughed as he let them go, “What? No, this is my friend Amia Cooper. She’s a transfer.”

Hagrid frowned, “Amia Cooper ye’ say…” he muttered. One of his pan sized hands reached up and tucked in to his moleskin jacket pocket. He pulled out a thick pair of seeing glasses and placed then gently on his nose. His eyes blinked a few times before he stared down at Mia.

“Oh! Sorry about the mistake. Me eyes weren’t what they use to be…”

“No worries,” Mia said, sticking out her hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mia’s entire body shook as Hagrid pumped her fist up and down, “You too, you too. You look an awful lot like Hermione though…” he muttered, still staring observantly at her.

Mia’s eyebrows raised. This man was comparing her to Rose’s mum? Weird. “Oh. Thanks?”

Hagrid didn’t say anything; instead, he leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of something else. Amia was just about to take a step back from the giant when Rose interrupted him.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any tea and particular grimy stories about some mystical beasts, would you Hagrid?”

Hagrid jerked out of his gaze and turned to look at Rosie. His flustered, concentrated face turned into a humble smile, “You know me Rosie. Come on in girls.”

…

“Hagrid’s pretty chill. He has a lot of stories about your parents and uncle,” Mia commented as they walked into the 7^th floor corridor leading to the Fat Lady. They had spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Hagrid, and Amia was surprised to find that she’d had a really good time. A few minutes into tea with the half-giant, Hagrid had given up on giving Mia weird looks, much to her gratitude. The more he talked, Mia concluded that he was harmless. She could see why Rose liked to keep in touch with him.

“Yeah. He’s practically family,” Rose answered.

“That’s really cool. I wish I knew someone who remembered fond memories of my parents.”

Rose turned to look at her questioningly, “Your grandparents?”

She shook her head, “Don’t know them really. My dad’s dad doesn’t keep in touch, and my mom doesn’t talk to hers. Probably ‘cause she knows they wouldn’t remember such fond memories of her,” Amia finished with a casual smirk.

“You don’t like your mum much, do you?” Rose guessed. Amia didn’t talk about her family much to begin with, but whenever a topic came up about her mom, she didn’t seem to have anything good to say. Rose didn’t judge her for it; she was simply curious.

At her question though, Mia’s face twisted up into a frown. She turned to look at Rose with a somewhat belligerent expression.

Instantly the redhead flustered, “Sorry. That was out of line…”

Mia held her intense look for a few more seconds before relaxing. She shrugged, “No, it’s fine. It’s just, I’ve never really had much of a relationship with her. It’s not like you and your mom. My mom never really liked me.”

Rose remained quiet. She couldn’t imagine not having a mum she could talk to and confide in. Her mum was everything to her. She immediately felt bad that Amia didn’t have anything like that in her life.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Amia asked, clearly trying to change the topic.

“I have patrols at nine. You?”

Mia bit her lip, “I have a big homework assignment. I should probably get started on it when I get back…”

“I like big assignments,” Rose said with a joking grin.

She let out a laugh, “If it wasn’t important that I learn it, then I’d let you have at it.”

Rose grinned, “Thanks for keeping me in mind.”

Mia couldn’t help but smile as they stopped in front of the Fat Lady and Rose gave her the password.

“Weasley, I have to say,” Mia started as they stepped up into the portrait hole, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you. Scratch the quite.”

Rose sighed, “I get that a lot.”

“It’s cool that you like to read and learn,” Mia told her when she noticed the look on the girl’s face.

“Really?” she asked, clearly unsure, “I’m not a shrew?”

Amia shook her head, “No. You’re unique. At least your not some conforming fembot like a lot of the other girls in this school.”

A genuine smile spread over Rose’s face, “Thanks.”

“No worries. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You won’t be at dinner?” Rose asked as Amia started for the girls dorms.

She paused for a second before turning around and shaking her head, “I’ll probably still be doing homework.”

Rose wasn’t sure if there was more to what Mia was saying, but she didn’t want to confront her about it. Instead, she nodded, “Oh, okay. Yeah then, see you tomorrow.”

Amia grinned and waved one last time before starting up the stairs. After she had gone, Rose sighed and made her way back over to the book she had started earlier.

…

Amia prayed that no one would be in the 7^th year’s dorm yet. She didn’t want to have to make an excuse to anyone else trying to talk to her. She needed to stick to her plan tonight, and that meant no distractions from Hogwarts.

With that thought in mind, she reached for the door handle to her room. She needed to hurry up and get ready so that she could floo out before Tony got back to his room.

…

The peaceful ocean sparkled with the dazzling sunlight overhead. The harbour was quiet except for a few boats loading and unloading at the docks. For all intents and purposes, it was shaping up to be a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon in paradise.

The only thing out of the ordinary was the image of a skinny, tan blonde girl, pacing back in forth on the dock in front of a mid-sized boat. Every now and then she’d let out an impatient groan before stopping to check her watch, and then scanning the surrounding neighbourhood for any sign of her best friend. After no Coop in sight she went back to pacing.

Out of nowhere, a light pop sounded behind her. It would’ve been barely noticeable and meaningless to any normal person that would’ve heard it. However, Lindsey Kelly wasn’t normal. She knew what that sound meant.

Excitement rushing through her, she spun on her heel to find her best friend standing in the middle of her dad’s boat.

“MIA!” Lindsey screamed.

Amia laughed as she watched her friend hop over the railing and run at her, “Linds-”

Her air supply was cut off as Lindsey crushed her up in a tight hug. Despite her size, Lindsey could give some fierce bear hugs.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much!”

Mia coughed, “Dude, I’ve missed you too, but calm down…”

“I can’t calm down,” Lindsey said as she let go of her, still speaking two tones higher than she needed to, “We don’t have that much time together!”

Mia sighed, “I’m sorry. This is all I can get away for.”

“You have to go back tonight?” Lindsey asked.

Mia bit her lip. They had been over it this morning. The plan they had agreed to was that Mia would sneak over, hang out with Lindsey during the day, and then at night they would go out and meet up with some of their other friends. Amia was probably pushing the limits as it was. She didn’t know how knowledgeable Hogwarts was with their floo system. Her hope was that they wouldn’t find out for at least a couple hours, giving her enough time to slip back in through Tony’s floo. Lindsey had already guilted her enough into coming. Hopefully she wouldn’t be pressured into breaking any more rules.

Though, if she was being honest, being back in Newport felt good. Despite the issues she’d had over the years here, this place had always been her home. Maybe Lindsey was in the right getting her to stay longer…

“We’ll see how it goes,” Mia said, not promising her anything yet.

“Yeah,” Lindsey nodded thoughtfully, “Look, you’re judgment will definitely be off in a few hours, so I’ll just ask you when you’re drunk.”

Amia laughed and shoved her playfully, “Shut the hell up!”

“Acknowledging the problem is the first step to recovery,” Lindsey joked as she climbed over to the captain’s seat.

Amia smirked, “But that means we’d have to acknowledge that drinking is a problem and that we want to be recovered.”

Lindsey turned to her with a soured expression, “You’re right. See, I’m not as intelligent without my smart cookie around. You should just move back.”

Amia grinned. She had missed her best friend more than she realized. She climbed up on the steering deck right when Lindsey started the engine.

“So where are we going?” Amia asked after putting on the aviators she and Lindsey always kept on the boat.

A mischievous smile spread over Lindsey’s face, “Laguna. There’s a couple surfer boys down there that have been dying to meet us.”

The girls shared a laugh as the boat started to back over the blue waters of the harbour. With all thoughts of Hogwarts, that mysterious Hayden guy, and Professor Granger behind her, Amia focused her attention on the night ahead with her best friend.

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Next chapter, Amia gets caught.

REVIEW!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 10: Breaking Ground

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[AN] Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for the wait! Even though it might take me some time in between updates, always know that this story will be completed. I’m not abandoning under any circumstances.

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If you asked Amia Cooper how, after about twelve shots of tequila and three rum-and-coke’s, she was able to manoeuvre her way around the scattered bodies passed out on the floor of Lindsey’s beach front cottage, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you. As she got into the home stretch and stumbled past the last of the drunken teens, she clutched onto a pillar to regain her balance. Her head was starting to spin faster and faster. She didn’t remember drinking this much.

She was barely able to will one eye open to look for the face of her best friend. Lindsey was over in the corner, slumped over on the couch with one of the Laguna boys that Mia couldn’t remember the name of.

Amia screwed her eyes shut as she sighed. She had wanted to say goodbye to Linds but the journey seemed too much for her. And plus, if Mia were to wake Lindsey up, the blonde would probably make it even more difficult for her friend to leave. Mia knew she had waited too long to go back; she really hadn’t intended on drinking so much…

With one last look in Lindsey’s direction, Amia relinquished her grip on the pillar and started stumbling through the kitchen, heading in the direction of the door leading to the back courtyard. That’s where she and Lindsey normally apparated from.

Apparating was just as unpleasant as she remembered it being while wasted. The squeezing sensation and hook behind her navel was magnified tenfold as she disappeared from a nook in the courtyard in Newport and reappeared at the loading station in Hogsmeade.

She keeled over, not knowing what to expect as soon as her feet touched the cold stone ground. If she was going to throw up, she wished it would just happen already. Waiting to get sick was one of her least favourite things to do.

Nothing completely disturbing happened as Amia stood there, hands on her knees breathing heavily. She could tell one or two passer-by’s gave her odd looks, but she didn’t pay them any mind. Her aching head, blurred vision, and the brisk chill was overwhelming her. The desire to get back to the castle weighed heavy in her chest. As she straightened and started sauntering towards the cast-iron gates, the only thought on her mind was the hope that no one was up this early in the castle to see her.

…

Hermione rolled onto her back in bed and sighed. She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night and was helpless to any explanation why. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen Amia at all on Saturday, and not seeing her made her twice as anxious about the girl than she normally was. That, plus the constant pondering over Harry’s behaviour, and the pressure on what to do concerning her’s and Ron’s inevitable divorce did add to her stress. Rest seemed nearly impossible when she had so much going on in her mind.

Because of that rationale, Hermione pushed the covers off her and sat up from the bed in her sleeping quarters. She looked out the half drawn window behind her bed and saw the sun just starting to peek its way over the north mountains. The windows were slightly frosted over, hinting at the pre-winter cold settling upon the grounds. It was too early in the morning for breakfast, and surely nobody else would be up at this time of day. With that thought in mind, Hermione stood from her old bed and walked over to her wardrobe. Maybe a nice quiet walk through the castle was what she needed to clear her mind of her many troubles.

…

The further Amia got stumbling through the abandoned and still dark halls of Hogwarts, the less confident she felt about her initial plan to sneak back in this way. The ground was becoming uneven and the windows were starting to blur together. If she was smart, she would’ve just flooed back to Tony’s room. At least, getting seen by him was probably better than travelling alone through the vast corridors, vulnerable to whomever might be up at such an hour. She wouldn’t exactly be embarrassed if someone saw or caught her; she just didn’t want that reputation coming up at Hogwarts too. Believe it or not, she wasn’t trying to get expelled again…

Mia tried to grip harder on the wall that she was using to support herself. At this point, she had no idea where she was, or if she was going in the right direction of the Gryffindor common room. She’d already taken a ride on the grand staircase and thought she got off at the seven floor. But to be honest, she couldn’t know for sure. She’d collapsed on the stairs as soon as she’d secured herself a few steps up.

There seemed to be a corridor coming up intersecting the path she was currently on. The hallway still proved unfamiliar to her, so she braced herself on the wall, preparing to take a left and move her body around the corner. It was definitely easier said than done.

Right as she moved her leg around the corner and stepped down, and ear-splitting screech filled the dim corridor. Amia jumped back in surprise, but not before the bottlebrush tail of an old cat caught her eye. The cat zipped back around the corner in the direction Mia came, leaving only the echo of its cry in the corridor.

Mia leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily and cursing that stupid cat for startling her. Now that her heart was racing a million miles a minute, her head only seemed to start spinning worse. She was content on resting there for a few moments, maybe let the sun fill up more of the corridor so she could start recognizing where she was, before starting to walk again. Walking seemed so difficult right now.

But then, out of the silence of the early morning, Amia heard something that made her eyes go wide in alert. Foot steps. Loud, hobbling footsteps, and they were coming her way.

Now, with adrenaline pumping through her, Mia straightened up and gripped the wall once more. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on where she could run and hide until the footsteps disappeared. A couple feet ahead of her she spotted another hall running through this one. Taking a deep breath, she hurried for it.

Amia knew that running would be difficult but she underestimated how bad her knees wanted to buckle. She didn’t think she could support herself for very long. Hopefully there’d be an inlet or maybe one of those tapestry things that Rose’s cousin James talked about once beyond the turn.

The footsteps were definitely getting louder, but Mia could see the turn in sight. Only a few more steps. She could hear a voice now speaking lowly just down the corridor. She fastened her step just as she was rounding the corner-

CRASH!

This time, the loud sound of metal scraping and clanging against the stone ground filled the hall, and quite possibly the entire floor. Stars flashed before her eyes as Mia tripped over the pile of metal and slammed her head into the hard ground.

Amia groaned as quietly as possible and turned on her back to clutch at her throbbing head. It was one of Hogwarts’ famous suits of armour that had caused the collision. Mia figured she had knocked the magicked metal man unconscious too, seeing as it was lying completely still on the floor of the hall.

Mia coughed a few times as she tried to stand from the rubble. Her stomach was doing somersaults, and it felt like a jackhammer was going off inside her head. Despite her pain though, she knew that someone was still coming after her, and if she didn’t want to get kicked out of another school she better run for it.

Yes, someone was definitely yelling after her as she took her first step away from the armour pile. At first the voice seemed distant, but within a matter of seconds, it was surprising close.

“You there!”

‘Shit…’ Amia thought to herself, glancing bleary eyed around the abandoned hall to see if there was anywhere to hide. Just as she was starting to walk towards a broom cupboard down at the end of the hall, a cold, shabby hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“Have no mind for the rules, do we now?” growled the low greasy voice of the old caretaker, Argus Filch. Mia flinched away from his touch, but the old man proved stronger than he looked. With one swift pull, he pulled Amia around so that their noses were nearly touching. Amia swayed greatly from the force of his pull and then jerked back suddenly at their closeness. With both her head still pounding and her eyes dancing, Filch’s added effects were almost lost on her.

“I-I-”

“Bite your tongue girl. There’s no use trying to squirm your way out of punishment. I bet Denham will let me use the ol’ shackles for your insubordination…”

Mia’s face twisted into a look of pain as she reached up to grab her aching forehead, “No…”

“Mr. Filch!”

The glaring caretaker dropped his hold on Amia and turned around to address the clear, alarmed voice that had called out to him. His eyes narrowed angrily when he saw who had interrupted him.

“Granger,” he growled through his beady black eyes.

Hermione’s eyes also narrowed as she came to a stop in front of the two. However, she glanced past him to focus on Amia. She looked unwell by the way she was rubbing at her forehead, and nervous too. There was something else that Hermione couldn’t quite place.

“Amia, are you alright?” she asked, taking a small step toward her.

As usual, Mia didn’t look up to meet her eyes. She just nodded quietly, staring down at the broken suit of armour on the ground.

“I just caught the little foreigner causing havoc in these here halls. Obviously, she’s up to no good,” snarled Filch, again glaring accusingly at the girl.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and she looked suddenly fierce, “Filch I understand it is hard for you to give respect to any of the students here, but the fact that Miss Cooper is from a different country shouldn’t be used against her in any way, shape, or form. I would appreciate it if you didn’t stigmatize her with such a label in front of me.”

The caretaker jerked his head back, clearly affronted, while Mia stared at Hermione curiously. Had the professor just defended her, even after Filch said she’d done something wrong?

“She’s been breaking rules, she has!”

“What rules has she broken?” Hermione asked, her voice just as level as before. If Amia really had broken a rule or two, then fine. She’d accept that and give her a punishment. But Hermione, more than just about anyone, knew how bad Filch could overreact. More importantly, she knew of Filch’s love for torturing the students. If anyone here would be giving Amia a punishment, it would be her.

“She’s out of bed after hours! Obviously she’s sneaking back in after having gone out! Just look at her- she’s all shades of guilty!” screamed the dwindling man, pointing frantically at Mia. She started to glare at him as he began hoping up and down, yelling about how she destroyed the suit of armour on purpose.

“Whatever the case,” Hermione cut him off rather sharply, “I can handle it from here.” Amia wanted to shoot a triumphant grin at the shocked caretaker, but she knew that would do the opposite of good, and she didn’t think she could call upon her facial muscles to smile right now. The dizziness was starting to get worse than ever- surely Hermione had to see that something was wrong with her.

However, if she did or didn’t, she didn’t lead on to it. Instead, she kept her gaze focused astutely on Filch, “Your services are no longer required Mr. Filch. Have a pleasant morning.”

“But-”

“Mia,” she said, once more cutting the old man off, “my office, please.”

Amia’s eyes turned back to the floor as she nodded and started walking back the way she came. She didn’t know if this was the right way or not, but she figured Hermione would be close behind her anyway.

Hermione watched her walk away, holding onto the wall for support, with a concerned look on her face. The concern drained and was replaced with a frown as she looked back to Filch, who was starting to have a hissy fit. Quietly, she rolled her eyes and reached into her robes for her wand. With a strong flick in the direction of the mangled armour, the metal pieces started to twitch and clang together. Within a matter of moments, the suit was reassembled and in its right place.

Hermione didn’t spare Filch with another glance, and instead followed Amia down the corridor.

…

Amia sat down in a hard chair facing Professor Granger’s desk. Hermione was going around, opening some of the curtains so that the room could be somewhat lighted.

While a part of her wanted to pull herself together so that she could look orderly in front of her teacher, another part of her was screaming that it was all useless. She’d already messed up when she had tried to get on the moving staircase. Honestly, she hadn’t any idea where she was trying to go, but Professor Granger had to remind her that they were already on the floor where her classroom and office were.

Mia had tried to laugh it off and mumble a few incoherent words, but that only made her professor look more worried. She had to know something was up, and because of that, Amia didn’t hesitate from leaning forward in her chair and putting her head in her hands. The dizziness wasn’t just in her now, it seemed like it was all around her too.

“Amia, are you okay?” Hermione asked anxiously, walking away from the windows. She had only glanced back when she heard the girl moan, but when she saw her she got increasingly worried. Mia had her face in her open hands, but Hermione could still tell she looked considerably paler. She put her hand on her arm and started to rub it, hoping that would ease her into talking.

“I think I’m gonna puke…” she mumbled, starting to sway.

Hermione instantly straightened and waved her wand at the rubbish bin sitting at the corner of her desk. It made it over just in time for Mia to grab it and empty the contents of her stomach. Hermione rubbed her back softly as Mia held on to the bin for a few extra seconds.

She spit one last time before sitting up and wiping her mouth, “I feel better.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow, confused, “Are you sure? You’re not going to get sick again?”

She shook her head, “One time does the trick.”

At that, Hermione narrowed her eyes. Suddenly this all started to make more sense. She shook her head as she grabbed the rubbish bin off Mia’s lap and whispered a quick ‘evanesco’. Next, she conjured a glass full of water and gave it to her.

“Here, drink this.”

Amia took it quietly and sipped a good amount. Hermione sat back against her desk, her arms folded, and watched her with a careful eye.

“I’d like to think that either the headmistress or Professor Denham has already gone over the rules with you.”

Amia squinted her eyes, pretending to be in thought, “Is that what the long list of “don’ts” where supposed to be?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the sarcasm, “Besides the don’ts, I’m sure you’ve heard that there’s a strict curfew here. Being a new student doesn’t give you leeway to go wandering the halls in the early morning.”

Mia wiped her mouth again, “Oh.”

“I’m also sure you’re aware that you’re not permitted to leave the castle without specific permission to do so.”

“Must of slipped my mind,” she shrugged, still not meeting her eyes.

Hermione sighed. Obviously acting like the authority figure wasn’t going to bring her any answers, and she had a burning curiosity right now. Hermione already knew that Mia was a lot like her, therefore the vomiting once and the sarcastic attitude that followed was explained. Amia had been drinking, but Hermione needed to know why.

“Where’ve you been?” she asked calmly, testing her new approach.

Again, Amia shrugged, “Just went out exploring. Thought I’d knock over a few armoured men while I was at it.”

“Does alcohol usually accompany your explorations?”

Mia’s eyes suddenly shot up to meet Hermione’s. A moment of panic flashed before her green orbs before they went back to the frosty calm front, “Depends if it’s cold or not.”

“Do your parents know you drink?” Hermione asked next.

“I'm sure they do,” Amia sighed, almost like she was preparing herself for a speech she’d heard a thousand times over.

Though, Hermione wasn’t concerned with getting her in trouble. Maybe this was her chance to really get a peak inside Mia’s mysterious life, “Are you saying they let you?”

Mia seemed short, “My mom doesn't care what I do. As long as I don't embarrass her.”

“And your dad?”

“He can't control me from home when he’s thousands of miles away,” she answered, now glaring.

Hermione felt like she’d been slapped. The sharpness of Amia’s words tore through her heart like butter. Mia couldn‘t have meant what she thought she was saying… “Your parents are separated?” she asked, the shock evident on her face.

“Yep.”

“Oh. I-I'm sorry.” Words couldn’t describe how Hermione was feeling. They were supposed to have given their baby to loving and stable parents. But really, they were giving her up to just as torn of a family as they would’ve kept her in! Anger coursed through her as the younger faces of Ben and Kirsten Cooper cropped up in her mind.

Mia was confused by the play of emotions she’d thought she’d seen run across Hermione’s face. In the end though, she just shrugged. A stranger really wouldn‘t care about her family issues that much. “I don't care,” she muttered stoically.

“Still it must be hard,” Hermione mumbled, trying to focus on the girl in front of her and not the people responsible for hurting her daughter so bad.

Mia shook her head, “It was when I was little. But I'm not little anymore.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“Why would they do that to a ten year old?” Hermione asked, though the question wasn’t directed towards anyone. Mia either didn’t pick up on that or didn’t care to be cordial. Her collected front was starting to collapse and for the first time Hermione could see the anger behind Amia’s eyes.

“She only loved him for his money, so when his money ran out, so did she. Me and my sister were never an issue.”

Hermione was in the middle of silently cursing Kirsten Cooper to all corner’s of hell when something caught her attention. Her eyes jerked up to Amia’s, “You have a sister?” she asked in complete surprise. Kirsten Cooper wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids… that was the whole reason they were looking to adopt in the first place!

Mia looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, “Yep. She's 15.”

Hermione had to stop for a moment to take everything in. The idea that Amia had a sister that was biologically her parents had more implications then she could even grasp. She wouldn’t put it past a woman like Kristen, who obviously found Amia’s ability to do magic a “freakish” thing, to favour her biological daughter over Mia. So much was explained from that…

“You must find it hard, being the only magical one in your family…” Hermione whispered, not even realizing she was speaking.

Mia narrowed her eyes, “How did you know that?”

“Um… I- I read your file,” Hermione stumbled, thinking of the fist thing that came to mind. She had to watch herself; she couldn’t afford to let too many comments like that go.

“Oh.”

“I'm a muggle-born too, and an only child. Life got kind of lonely when I was away from school,” she offered after seeing the look on Mia’s face. She didn’t want Mia to lock up again, especially after she’d said what she had said. More importantly though, she wanted to give her and Mia some sort of connection, hopefully one that would make Amia feel more comfortable about talking to her.

Luckily for Hermione, it seemed to work. Mia looked up unsurely, “Did they care that you were a witch?”

Hermione shook her head, “Even though my parents didn't understand magic, they supported me.”

“My dad doesn't even know I'm magical,” Mia whispered after setting the glass of water down and leaning back in her chair. Her eyes didn’t look up to meet Hermione’s this time.

Hermione’s mouth fell open, “What?”

Amia shrugged and started playing with the end of her flannel’s sleeve as she spoke, “My mum never thought he needed to know the extent of it. Just that I was going to a special school.”

That was it, Hermione thought to herself. That was the reason she’d been looking for. Amia had grown up hearing that magic was for loonies, and was a waste of time. She could only imagine the backlash that happened when Amia got notification of her extraordinary capabilities. At that point, the Coopers were probably already divorced. The one connection that Mia had to magic possibly being accepted was long gone, and she was left with a mother who was privy to believe that she couldn’t have a daughter with such freakish and unfavourable traits. Amia was out-casted by her own family at an age where she didn’t even know how to deal with herself. Her situation was beginning to sound more like Harry’s by the day. The mere thought that Kirsten turned her back on Amia at the age of ten brought tears to her eyes.

“You shouldn't hate yourself for being different Amia,” Hermione whispered, willing herself to pull it together for the girl’s sake, but unable to let go of the idea of how badly she must’ve been treated by her own family. “Magic isn't a curse.”

Mia slowly turned to look up at her professor, “I don't hate myself.”

“Good,” Hermione said, her voice taking on a fierce tone, “You're brilliant- it's not your fault that they don't realize that.”

Amia bit her lip as Hermione finished talking. No one had ever really complimented her like that before. She was a bit unsure what to say. “Thanks,” she muttered after a few seconds, forcing it to sound more confident than a question.

“You're welcome.”

A silence engulfed the two. Mia went back to staring at the ground while Hermione began to get transfixed with her like she normally did when she was this close. She’d come to the conclusion that she was always so fixated on her because she was making up for all the lost time that she should’ve been able to see her.

After a minute or two passed, Amia started to fidget. “So… You're not going to like, write me up?” she asked quietly, glancing up to see Hermione’s reaction.

Hermione looked into her unsure eyes for a moment before giving her a gentle smile, “I think you know not to do this again. Alcohol is never a good means for anything. Especially when you’re only sixteen.”

Amia nodded gratefully, but couldn’t fight off the urge to defend herself. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want Hermione to think badly of her, “It’s not like I’m an alcoholic. I was just trying to have a little fun…”

“I know you’re a good kid Amia. And I also know you have a lot of potential. I don’t want to see you get in trouble for something as stupid as a ‘fun night out’. Next time I might not get there in time to save you from Filch or one of the other professors.”

Amia looked up into her professor’s kind eyes. She didn’t know what was compelling Hermione to be so understanding. Usually professors would jump at the first opportunity to suppress an unruly student…

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked after a few seconds of thinking.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Would you rather me act like all of the other adults you've ever been around in your life?”

Mia shrugged, “I’d be used to it.”

A couple of seconds passed before Hermione imitated Amia and shrugged, “Everyone deserves a break here and there…”

“I guess…”

Hermione stood up from her desk, hoping that would be the end of Amia’s worries. She grabbed the glass of water on the floor and put it on her desk before turning back to her.

“You look tired.”

“I am,” Mia mumbled, suddenly seeming to remember the pounding still going off in her head and the dizziness that was finally starting to subside. “I just apparated back from Los Angeles.”

For the second time that night, Hermione’s mouth fell open, “Amia- that’s like, over 5,000 miles!”

“Should’ve found a floo…” Mia trailed off, closing her eyes and reaching for her head again.

“How long have you been able to apparate? Fully trained wizards can’t even go that far!”

“I got my license on my birthday, but people don’t really do it where I’m from. Too many muggles around. What’s wrong?” Mia asked after opening her eyes and finding her professor giving her a shocked and awed appraisal.

It took a moment, but Hermione finally snapped out of her daze and shook her head, “Nothing… it’s just a shock to hear that a sixteen year old girl is that… that powerful…”

Amia shrugged it off, “It’s just concentration.”

“Right. Um, well I should probably take you back to Gryffindor tower now so you can get some rest. Do you think you can make it up there, or do you want to stay here?” Hermione then offered, feeling like she was probably safer for now sleeping in Hermione’s quarters.

“I can make it,” Mia opted. She grabbed onto the chair’s arms and heaved herself up. For a second Hermione thought she might fall back down, so she came forward to grab Amia if she needed to. However, the girl surprised her and stood stable on her own two legs. Hermione was glad to see the colour starting to return to Amia’s face.

“Alright. Oh, here- let me get you a dreamless sleep potion…”

Amia tried to smile at her as she took off behind her desk and started rummaging through a drawer, “Thanks.”

“Take it before you lay down,” Hermione told her, coming back with a glowing blue vile. “It’ll help,” she promise, placing it in her palm and then giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Thanks.”

The walk back to Gryffindor tower took less time than Amia had expected, or surprisingly wanted. Turns out the conversation flowed easily between herself and Professor Granger. In no time at all, Amia found herself liking the conversations she and Hermione were having. She had never thought she’d feel so easy and comfortable talking to a professor like this… especially one who had just caught her breaking a major school rule.

Maybe Professor Granger wasn’t as mad as Amia had initially thought. She was nice. Really nice, and to her no less!

“It really wasn’t any trouble stopping Filch from punishing a student. That man thrives on catching kids to subject to his medieval punishments. I actually took a little pleasure out of it,” Hermione said as they got off the staircase and started down the seventh floor corridor. She shot Amia a little grin as she finished.

Mia laughed, “I believe it. That guy is creepy. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with him now that he’s probably going to be constantly breathing down my neck.”

Hermione nudged her, “Perhaps try not breaking any more rules?”

“That’s easier said than done for me,” she replied with a modest look.

Hermione smiled, thinking of someone else that had a little trouble following the rules back when he was in Hogwarts, “It is a little tricky, especially at this school.”

“Are you speaking from experience, Professor?”

Hermione shrugged impassively as Amia looked on with a grin, “I never broke the rules, per se. My friends and I instead got in a habit of… bending them…”

Hermione smiled happily as Amia started laughing. A twinge of pride struck her heart as she looked at her grown up baby, carefree and hopefully happy at the current moment.

Before either of them knew it, or had wanted their walk to come to an end, the Fat Lady was right before them, looking down at them curiously.

Hermione turned to look at Mia and gave her hand another squeeze, “Look, I know being in a new place and having no one is hard. But, if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here for you.”

Hermione was happy to see Amia look her straight in the eye and nod, “Thanks Professor.”

“Call me Hermione. I feel old enough as it is.”

“Thanks Hermione.”

“Get some sleep, Amia,” she smiled one last time as the young girl turned and gave the impatient Fat Lady the password and then disappeared inside the portrait hole.

---

I hope you guys have enjoyed the beginning of Hermione and Amia’s relationship. They’re only going to get more and more face time from here.

Next chapter, Hermione goes to see Harry.

Please review!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 11: Let Your Guard Down

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[AN] Again, sorry for the wait. This story’s really starting to take off so hopefully I can start updating in closer time intervals.

Thanks for the support last time. Please remember to drop off a review on your way out.

---

Rose sighed and went back to her dull looking oatmeal after the large group of Gryffindor girls entering the great hall for breakfast did not reveal Amia. It was mind-boggling to the young Gryffindor how the exchange student missed so many meals. Honestly, Mia hadn’t even been there for two weeks yet! But already, she’d missed a majority of the breakfasts. Was there something Rose was missing about the new girl’s character? Or was Amia simply sleeping in?

She looked up again to scan around the Great Hall. It was possible that Mia could’ve been sitting with Tony, the Head Boy. After all, she did catch Tony and Mia walking out of Runes together on a regular basis.

Upon looking over the Ravenclaw table, she saw that even Tony was absent this morning. She was mid-sigh and just about to turn her eyes back to her boring breakfast when another pair of eyes caught hers.

Immediately, her cheeks turned blood red, and she quickly tore her eyes away from the piercing gaze of Scorpius Malfoy. Despite the blandness of her oatmeal and all thoughts of Amia forgotten, she started piling her food into her mouth so that she was forced to stare down for at least the next five minutes.

…

Amia couldn’t help but feel like she was in the perfect place right now. She was warm, thanks to the sunlight casting down on the beach, and she was staring into the smiling, handsome face of the one person she didn’t get to see last night. Normally, her feelings were all jumbled when thinking about TJ. It was a complication she typically liked to brush under the rug. But right now, with his tanned arm reaching out for her, the only thing she wanted was to go to him-

“Cooper… Cooper!”

Amia’s eyes snapped open in a jolt, and instead of seeing the smiling face of TJ, she instead saw the upturned expression of Tabitha Temple. The other sixth year girl retracted her hands and stood up straight, placing them on her hips.

“What?” Mia breathed, her eyebrows narrowed in annoyance.

“Professor Granger is outside for you.”

Her features instantly raised, “What?”

“Professor Granger,” Tabitha repeated, nodding off towards the door, “She’s waiting in the hall for you.”

Tabitha walked away while Mia pushed herself up in bed, a thousand thoughts racing through her head. Professor Granger was outside waiting for her? Had she decided to punish Mia after all? She sighed with trepidation aching in her heart as she got up from bed and carefully approached the door.

As she opened the door, her professor turned to greet her with a smile. Mia tried to muster a smile to giver her in return, “Er, hi.”

“Mia, how are you feeling?”

“Headache…” she muttered, gesturing up to her head. Mia noticed that Hermione’s hands were full. Right as she was about to ask about them, Hermione held out a bottle of glowing blue liquid.

“Here. I made this for you.”

“What is it?” Amia asked after taking it and holding it up to her eyes for examination.

“Something that’ll make you feel better,” Hermione promised, smiling gently.

Mia’s eyebrow lifted after she lowered the bottle to her side. She almost wanted to smirk, “You know how to make a hangover potion?”

Hermione bit her lip as she shrugged casually, “I was young once too.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I brought you this too,” she added, holding out a small wrapped parcel, “Just some food from the kitchens. You’re probably not hungry but you’ll feel better if you eat it. Trust me.”

This time, Amia wasn’t so quick to grab her offerings. While this all seemed to be playing out perfectly, she couldn’t help but think suspiciously of the woman’s graciousness. Surely there had to be something more to it. But then Mia stopped, and bit her lip. Hermione wasn’t like most of the adults she’d had to deal with. They had established that last night. Maybe this woman truly was just trying to be nice in looking after her…

Amia looked carefully up into her professor’s eyes before taking the parcel, “Thanks Hermione.”

“You’re welcome. I-I have to get going, but if you need anything just come get me.” Hermione hated to leave the girl so soon. If she was being honest, she much would’ve rather stay and look after Mia all day long. Merlin knows she probably needed a good day of safekeeping.

But, Hermione knew that wasn’t possible. Not now at least. The truth was, she may have looked okay, but inside she was quickly losing composure.

“Okay,” Mia agreed easily, probably anxious to get back to bed.

She managed to give Hermione an adequately grateful smile before turning and heading back into her room. Hermione bit her lip as she walked away, noticing that Mia had had the same bed as she did when she was younger.

Hermione turned to look back down the spiral staircase and sighed deeply. Her emotions were stretched thin, but bubbling under the thin layer of her self composure. She dearly needed to speak to someone who would understand what she was going through. Denying to herself who she really needed to talk to obviously wasn’t working anymore that morning. The truth was she needed to talk to someone. And that someone was Harry.

…

Rockleigh Dawber was in a heap of trouble. Not in trouble with the rules of his internship or anything, but informally he knew he was doing nothing to impress his team chief, Harry Potter. That’s why now, even sitting at his desk scribbling away at simple inventory papers, he was determined to uphold an ardent persona. The next time Chief Potter did pay attention to him, he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Excuse me?” an out-of-breath voice asked. Rockleigh looked up curiously but then readjusted his strong composure once he saw who it was. He was a little doubtful in doing so, considering that he knew of the legend of Hermione Weasley’s help in the great war. A part of him didn’t want to be disrespectful, but the other part, speaking particularly in the Chief’s voice told him that a person’s celebrity should not effect the workings of a good auror. And Rockleigh really wanted to be a good auror.

“I need to see Harry Potter,” Hermione told him. Her anxiety was overwhelming her nerves.

Rockleigh shook his head quickly, “You’ll have to make an appointment. He’s bus-”

“I need to see him,” she said again, matching his hard look, “It’s an emergency.”

Rockleigh gulped, “What kind of emergency?”

“An emergency that I’m sure he’ll be very offended to find that you asked me about.”

Rockleigh sighed, his dreams as coming across as a force to be reckon with withering away. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to any dignity he had left, “Name?”

Hermione again narrowed her eyes, “I‘m sure you remember me from a few days ago.”

“Wait here please,” Rockleigh mumbled pathetically. Quickly, he got up from his seat and trotted down the hall to Chief Potter’s office.

Gently he knocked on the door.

“What?!”

“Um, Mr. Potter,” Rockleigh started nervously, speaking through the door, “I-I know you said you didn’t want to be bothered, but Hermione Weasley is here for you again. She seems very fraz-”

In a flash Harry had the door opened and was staring bright-eyed down at Rockleigh. The movement was so quick along with the conversation to follow that Rockleigh had no time to notice the dark circles under his chief’s eyes, his messier than ever hair, and his unkempt clothing.

“Hermione?” Harry asked, his excitement barely at bay.

"Yes sir. I’m sorry but she persisted-”

“Go get her! What are you waiting for?”

Rockleigh took a step back from his bosses sudden order, “Um, yes sir.”

As Rockleigh scurried away, Harry quickly turned and hurried for the mirror perched next to his coat tree. The last thing he had been expecting was company, so the idea that he hadn't been home in a solid day to shower or change hadn't bothered him. Now though, as he hurriedly brushed his hands through his crazy hair, he wished he would've paid more attention to his appearance. Just as he was straightening his tie, he heard the door close behind him. He turned around, his breath catching in his throat as he took in Hermione. And he thought he had looked out of composure...

“Hey-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Hermione had hurried into his arms and buried her face in his chest. As she shook, clearly crying in his arms, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him.

“Hermione- are you okay?”

“No! I’m not okay. It’s not okay…” she cried, shaking her head further into his chest.

Harry squeezed her again before letting go of her and grabbing the visitor's chair across from his desk. He pulled it forward, and gently sat her down. “Tell me what happened,” he said, kneeling down in front of her.

“It’s all so buggered up…” she muttered as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Harry reached forward and rubbed her knees comfortingly, “Start from the beginning," he urged, not realizing as he continued to comfort her. Harry knew that there was only one topic to date that could get Hermione so worked up, and that fact made him equally nervous as well.

“I found her- well, Filch got to her first- but she was sneaking back into the castle this morning. She was completely pissed.”

So it did have something to do with Amia. But he found it strange that she was this hysterical over a minor delinquency as being drunk. “She drinks?” he asked, nevertheless concerned.

Hermione sniffed, nodding emotionally, “Apparently so. I got Filch to let me handle it, so I took her back to my office and she got sick. I told myself that I was going to punish her, but…”

“But what?”

“There was something wrong," Hermione revealed still blinded with tears, "I wanted to find out why she had been drinking so we started talking… it makes sense…”

Harry's face was set in a frown and he was leaning forward in intense interest, “Hermione what did she tell you?”

Hermione had only meant Harry’s eyes for a moment before she confessed what she had been dying to tell him, “I asked her if her parents knew that she drank, and then everything just sort of spilled out. Kirsten is just horrible to her. She’s just as evil as my first impression of her was.”

“But Ben seemed like-”

“They divorced," Hermione cut in, with a bitterness in her tone that Harry normally wouldn't have expected from her. "He’s been out of her life since she was ten. Kirsten wouldn’t even tell him about Mia being magical!”

“They divorced?" Harry repeated, still trying to formulate how their marriage could've crumbled, "But they seemed so happy…”

Hermione shook her head, clearly not concerned for them in the slightest, “I can only imagine what went wrong. But the point is that she grew up with barely any semblance of family. We thought we were giving her to a good family that would love her unconditionally, but really we gave her to a mother who’s embarrassed by her, a sister who thinks she’s a freak, and a father who’s not even there.”

Harry's eyes jerked to hers suddenly, "She has a sister?"

Hermione nodded, "Kirsten had a baby right after they took Mia."

"Ben said she couldn't have kids!"

"But she did. She had a daughter of her own so Amia was pushed to the side..."

Harry was stoic kneeling next to her for the coming few minutes. Suddenly though, Hermione saw the heat flash before his eyes. He jumped up, his fists curled as he took a couple steps back into his office.

At first he couldn't quite explain the sudden amount of anger that coursed through him upon hearing the backdrop of Mia's life. But after a couple seconds, his mind began raging. Hadn't Ben and Kirsten promised to always be there for their daughter and to take care of her and protect her with every ounce of strength they had? And now, come to find that everything they had promised Harry and Hermione when they were younger had been thrown to the dogs. The urge to find them and punish them for what they had let happened to Amia ached dearly in his heart. However, the other emotion trembling within him was the jealously he felt towards Hermione. She'd actually gotten to talk to her about this. He wasn't jealous that Amia had talked to her over him; it was the fact that Hermione was there to talk to Amia that made Harry envious.

A few seconds and a couple deep breaths later, Harry turned back to Hermione who was staring at him intensely, her face still stricken with tears.

“Is this why she drinks? Does she have a problem?”

Hermione looked down and thought for a second before turning back to him and shaking her head, “No, I don’t think so at least. I mean, she said she went out with friends. She apparated back all the way from Los Angeles, Harry.”

Harry raised his eyebrow, “She can apparate?”

She bit her lip and nodded, almost as if she was sadly admitting something, “She can do a lot.. She’s more talented than I ever imagined…”

"What else did you guys talk about?"

"I just... asked her questions," Hermione said softly, "Questions about her... about her- her family. She seemed to let her guard down a lot. I hope she knows she can talk to me now..." Hermione trailed off going to stare down at her hands again.

Again, twinges of jealousy tugged at Harry’s heart but he suppressed them, thinking Hermione would notice.

Despite his try, Hermione noticed the flash of pain across his face. She frowned worriedly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered shaking his head quickly.

Hermione didn't believe him at all. Instead, she continued to stare relentlessly up into his churning eyes. "Harry?" she tried again.

Harry couldn't help but stare back, getting just as absorbed in her eyes like she was. He knew he could tell Hermione, he was just worried that she would think less of him for it. But hadn't they made a promise to tell each other?

Finally he sighed, "I'm just-"

A quick knock sounded at the door. Harry's shoulders sagged as Hermione visibly deflated.

Harry dragged one of his hands down his face before looking up, "Yes?"

Rockleigh's breathless, nervous voice sounded through the door, "I'm sorry to interfere sir, but your wife is here to see you."

"Shit," Harry immediately cursed under his breath before calling back to his intern, "Keep her in the lobby. I'll be out in a moment."

Hermione's face had gone pale, "Harry… I can't face Ginny right now."

"I know," Harry said, already trying to make himself look calm and presentable. It was a habitual characteristic; something he always did when Ginny came round.

"You can go through the side," he finished walking over to give Hermione a hand up. She landed lightly on her feet trying to recover her own mask of calmness.

Harry cleared his throat, not taking a step back once she was standing stable. He looked down into her eyes, suddenly her Harry again, "Thanks for coming here and sharing this with me."

"You're the only person I can really talk to," Hermione admitted quietly. She blamed the way he was looking at her for her confession.

Harry nodded before whispering back, "I feel the same."

Before Hermione had the chance to think more on the vibrancy in his eyes again, Harry had her pulled up in a hug. It didn't take her long to respond. She moved her arms around his waist and let them glide up his back. She'd forgotten what Harry's hugs had felt like- and how... good... they made her feel.

Harry's warmth eventually pulled away and left her standing there trying to remember the security of his embrace while she heard the door open behind her.

She turned around to follow Harry out of the door, and responded with a dim smile when he reached out to squeeze her hand one more time. At that point, they went their separate ways; Harry turning left to go meet Ginny and Hermione turning right to head for the exit.

Both tried their best to ignore the persistent thought in the back of their heads that hated the growing distance being put between them.

…

"Ginny,” Harry greeted his wife without much enthusiasm as he walked out into the main lobby, “what are you doing here?"

Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to spring to life as soon as she saw him. "I have some news!” she announced, gliding up to him with a smile spread over her lips. Harry noted, without much reverence, that he hadn’t seen his wife this happy in a while.

However, he was taken aback when Ginny didn’t stop in front of him, and proceeded to lean forward and kiss his cheek. As she took a step back, Harry took the opportunity to revaluate her expression. Smiling beautifully even though she hadn’t seen him in a straight day, glowing, and her arms wrapped tightly over her stomach, where she gripped what looked like an addition of the daily prophet. Suddenly all of her traits started to fit themselves together, making Harry’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He only knew of one thing that could’ve made Ginny so happy…

“News? What kind of news?” Harry repeated, quickly trying to think of the last time they had been together sexually. It hadn’t been any time recently, that was for sure. Now that he was thinking about it, he and Ginny hadn’t been intimate together the entire summer. Could she really only be finding out now?

“The best kind,” Ginny grinned, ever evasively causing Harry’s heart to start pounding at twice its normal pace.

He gulped before grabbing her arm and nodding off, “Let’s go into my office.”

Ginny nodded and quickly followed him around the corner and into his office. As soon as they were both inside, Harry turned and locked the door. He cleared his throat awkwardly before turning back to look at Ginny.

“Okay, tell me what’s up…”

Ginny’s excitement finally spilled from her as she handed him her copy of the daily prophet, "Guess who the daily prophet’s new freelance quidditch reporter is!"

Harry didn’t even bother looking at the paper. Instead, he stared incredulously at his wife, "Who?"

"Me! I got a job!"

"A job?"

"Yes!” Ginny laughed upon Harry’s somewhat dazed repeat, “With the daily prophet! They're paying me to go to quidditch games and write about them. Doesn't that sound amazing?"

"Yeah…” Harry muttered blowing out a relieved breath. He shook his head, telling himself to focus on her triumph and not his relief to hear that Ginny wasn’t pregnant, “Congratulations!"

"Thanks. You're happy for me? I know I never really talked to you about it, but I've been wanting to write for a while now."

Harry nodded, still trying to wrap his head around everything, "Uh, if you're happy I'm happy."

"Great!” Ginny exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him again, “I really am. My first assignment is Wednesday. The Puddlemere game."

"That sounds great..." Harry said, his arms gripped on hers that were wrapped around his neck. He knew this must’ve looked awkward to her, but he couldn’t help but think that the last pair of arms wrapped around him felt a lot better than the ones that were now…

And Ginny obviously noticed that something was the matter with him. Slowly, she began to draw herself back, "What's wrong? You're not happy for me are you?"

"No, I am. It's just…” For a moment, Harry debated if he should even go there with Ginny. He was very excited that she had something to focus on now, but it was kind of unexpected. He was sure he’d have to deal with her moaning over having more kids until at least past Christmas…

“I mean, why?" he finally verbalised.

“Why what?”

“Why did you feel like you needed to get a job? I make plenty of money…”

“It’s not about the money,” Ginny said, suddenly less excited and much more quiet. She shrugged, “You’re gone all the time. James and Albi are at school. I have nothing to do during the day. And since you’re so sure that another baby would be a horrible idea… I need something to do.”

Harry nodded, this time with the enthusiasm he knew his wife wanted to see, “That makes sense. Keeping busy always did make you happy.”

“Used to be that just you made me happy…”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, not catching onto Ginny’s mumble.

Quickly, she shook her head, “Nothing. Um, do you have to stay late tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said, glancing back to his desk. He didn’t have much work to do. Lately he’d been taking up the habit of checking his reports two and three times more than necessary just to prolong going home. However, with the new excitement Ginny had shown over her new job, maybe that meant that Harry could go home for once to a peaceful house rather than one where all they do is fight. “Hopefully not,” he answered after a few seconds.

“Oh…” Ginny muttered, disappointment creeping back onto her face.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to make her feel any less excited than she should’ve been. With that said, and the reminder that she was his wife, he stepped forward, “I-I haven’t eaten lunch yet. Are you hungry?”

They had both already eaten, but Ginny still nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

…

Hermione was silent as she rode the lift up to the atrium. There were several stops along the way, but Hermione was grateful that nobody besides little inter-departmental memos got onto the lift. She really wanted to be alone as she replayed the hug she and Harry had shared over and over again in her mind. She missed that hug- something that described Harry perfectly- but was torn over whether or not she should feel guilty or happy for having such a realisation.

She was just starting to lean towards guilty when the lift dinged and a soft, feminine voice announced the sixth floor. Hermione didn’t even pay attention to which floor she was on, or notice when the lift doors opened.

“Hermione! What a surprise seeing you here, I was just about to send off a letter to you!”

Hermione jumped, and looked up to see the tall, thin frame of her old friend (and now personal attorney) as he got on the lift, “Henry! Hi.”

“How’ve you been my dear? I hope you’re keeping up well,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Hermione kissed him back, but only faintly as she quickly tried to compose herself, “Yeah, yeah. I’m doing fine.”

Why did this have to happen to her, especially at a time like this? She knew that seeing Henry meant she was about to get cornered concerning her impending divorce. But given everything that had been happening lately, she hadn’t been able to give proper thought to anything concerning Ron. She knew what she had to do eventually, but she always figured she would be 100% sure and ready to give Henry the go ahead. As of yet though she hadn’t had the chance to sit down and really figure out what she wanted from her divorce.

“Wonderful. Listen, I wanted to know if we could have a word about your case. Would you mind heading up to my office with me so we could talk in private?”

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly, “Um, actually Henry I’m on a lunch break. I need to be getting back to Hogwarts.”

“A lunch break on Sunday’s?” Pettlebone asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Er, yeah.”

“Very well…” he muttered, his exuberance taken down a notch, “I was simply wondering if you would like me to forward the divorce proceedings to the Wizengamot committee? All of the required documents are ready.”

Hermione bit her lip, “I-I haven’t really had the chance to-to talk to anyone about this. There’s still a lot I have to work out before the papers are filed…”

Henry shook his head smoothly, “This only processes the papers and lets the courts know of your intentions. Nothing is final by sending them in.”

“I know, but… but I think I need a little more time.”

Hermione didn’t even want to look up into the face of her friend to see the inevitable disappointment he would no doubt be expressing. She held her breath, waiting for another persuasive bid to let him file, but before he had the chance to say anything, the lift dinged to a stop.

“Level 8; the atrium.”

As quickly as possible, Hermione made her move to get off the lift. However, Henry soon snapped back to reality, and reached forward to grab her arm.

“Hermione, it won’t get any easier if you let them just sit on my desk and collect dust. I would recommend-”

“Friday,” Hermione cut him off, “I’ll let you know then, okay?”

She tried to look as determined as possible, knowing that would be the only thing that would convince Henry of her sincerity. Truthfully, she hadn’t really intended to blurt out a set date to make her decision, but at least doing so would get her out of the sticky situation now.

Finally, Pettlebone nodded, “Alright Hermione. Take care of yourself, and your kids.”

“I will.”

He gave her a departing smile, one that Hermione meekly tried to give back before turning and heading in the direction for a floo.

…

Hermione looked up from her desk as a knock sounded on the door from outside. She had been trying to grade some essays after returning from dinner. However, grading was proving difficult since she hadn’t seen Amia anywhere in the great hall tonight. Instead of focusing on her students’ theories of elemental transfiguration, she was more considering whether or not she should go up and check on the girl…

Nevertheless, she set her quill down and prepared herself to deal with whoever was outside. She could go check on Mia after. “It’s open!” she called out.

The door opened slightly, but enough for Amia herself to slip through the crack. Hermione couldn’t help but smile genuinely at the girl, who she noted was looking much better than this morning, “Mia!”

“Hey,” she greeted back, coming forward.

As she got closer, Hermione noticed that she was carrying something. “What are you doing here?” she asked, standing up from her desk, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked, still somewhat concerned as she walked around her desk.

“I just wanted to say thanks for not doing your job and turning me in to the Headmistress,” Amia said. She drew her hand up and offered what she had been carrying to her, “Here.”

Hermione took it, recognizing it as a thick scroll. “What’s this?” she asked, already starting to unravel it.

“A three foot essay on the foundations of Transfiguration and why it’s fundamental to the practice of magic.”

Hermione glanced over the first foot before looking up in astonishment, “Wow.”

Amia nodded, “Yeah, I went to the library and checked out books, and then spent all day in my room writing.”

Hermione grinned, “Impressive. I’m very proud.”

“Yeah,” Mia again nodded before shrugging evasively, “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I hate quills. We’re in the twenty-first century… pens and pencils couldn’t hurt.”

She chuckled, “If Hogwarts is anything, it’s definitely a little old-fashioned.”

“The old-fashioned is good, except for the quill part. And the fact that there are suits of armour hanging out in the halls for people to knock over.”

“You better watch what you say. I think that suit of armour was very offended by your actions,” Hermione teased.

“Great,” Mia grinned, clapping her hands in front of her, “That’s all I need, another magicked thing out to get me…”

Hermione’s gaze cut to her’s sharply, suddenly very intense, “What do you mean? What’s out to get you?”

The two were both quiet for a moment before Amia let out an awkward laugh, “It was a joke…”

Hermione’s expression slowly relaxed, “Oh… Ha…”

“You look strung out,” Mia commented, giving her professor a once-over.

Hermione imitated her gesture before looking up and shrugging, “I just have a lot of stuff going on.”

“Oh. Well, sorry if I added to your stress.”

“You haven’t.”

Amia smiled appreciatively at her before nodding back towards the door, “I’m going to get to bed.”

“Good idea. You’ll need your rest for classes tomorrow.”

Mia’s face soured over for a moment before she nodded, “Right. See ya Hermione.”

Hermione smiled gently, “Good night.”

She didn’t move from her spot until Mia had left the room. After, she hugged her essay to her chest before turning back for her desk. She felt like she’d had her closure for the night, and now she could go back to staring emptily at her fifth years’ essays before tomorrow would come, and she could see her daughter again.

---

Next chapter: Harry and Ron have a chat that leads Ron to Hogwarts…

Please, REVIEW!!!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 12: An Unwelcome Visitor

---

Harry walked in his front door late on Monday night exhausted and ready for immediate sleep. Even though he had made it home last night at a decent time, he had been up and ready for work at five this morning. His day with Ginny had been okay yesterday, but throughout the day and the night, he came to realize that the more time he spent with his wife, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend’s wife. This was part of his excuse to head straight for bed. Avoiding Ginny tonight would certainly be a relief for him.

However, as he set his briefcase down and threw his cloak over the coat tree, he heard two very distinct voices coming from further in the house. He didn’t even get the chance to think of an escape before Ginny called out to him.

“Harry? Is that you?”

Harry sighed as he started for the kitchen, hoping for his own sake that he’d be able to keep his attitude in check.

“Hey sweetheart,” Ginny grinned as he came in through the dining room entrance.

“Hi,” Harry replied quietly before giving a hard nod to the other ginger in the room, “Ron.”

Ron jumped up from his seat at the table and with a big smile, he came over to clap Harry on the back, “How ya been best mate of all mates? It’s been a while. Haven’t found a replacement for me, have ya?”

“I’ve been busy,” Harry shrugged, his tone rough.

Ginny raised her eyebrows insightfully, “He’s always busy.”

“Come off it, Harry,” Ron said, carelessly slapping him on the back again. Harry’s jaw locked and he became even more rigid as Ron continued. If only the red head knew how much Harry was trying not to curl his fists right now then he wouldn’t be hitting him so casually. “You can’t let the auror department take your life from you. You should dedicate more time to what’s important in life.”

“And what’s that Ron?” Harry snapped, his blood now officially starting to simmer.

Both Ron and Ginny looked taken aback, “What?”

“What’s that? I mean, what do you take time off work for? I thought you’ve been pretty busy lately as well?”

“Harry-” Ginny tried, but Ron quieted her.

“Yeah well, I’ve been trying to keep busy. It’d be different if Hermione were still at home.”

“Would it?” Harry bit out with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Harry! What’s wrong with you?” Ginny chided, full of shock.

Harry shook his head, “Absolutely nothing. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing-”

“So we’re all just fine then. What’s for dinner?” Harry asked suddenly, walking around the table and dropping into the seat opposite of the one Ron was sitting at. He knew that if he was sitting he’d be less likely to jump at Ron for any other senseless comments he wanted to make.

“Shepherd’s pie. I’ll make you a plate.”

Harry thanked her as Ginny walked out with a confused look on her face. He was sure that she’d be wanting some explanations later, but Harry wasn’t sure yet if he’d be willing to give them to her. Right now, at least, he had more pressing matters at hand. Literally.

Ron cautiously sat back down in his seat, his eyes searching Harry’s face for any reason for his brusque behaviour.

“Have I done something?” he finally asked.

Harry eyes frosted over, “You’re asking me?”

“You’ve been distant lately. There has to be a reason…”

“Do you have anything you need to tell me, Ron?”

Ron looked up, suddenly very anxious looking. Harry, on the other hand, was looking at Ron like he’d never looked at him before. His hard, stiff glare was the same glare he used when interrogating criminals. Right now Ron wasn’t much better than a criminal in Harry’s mind. To him, he deserved no better treatment.

“Sorry? I’m not following you, mate.”

“Like you said, we’re best mates,” Harry continued, “And it’s been a while- surely there’s some catching up we should do.”

Ron shifted around in his seat before shrugging, “Just trying to adjust. It’s weird not having Hermione and Hugo around the house anymore.”

“It’s weird not having them around, or not having to hide from them?”

“Harry, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Harry cut him off dangerously. Ron’s head jerked back in offence; Harry had never been so threatening to him before…

“I’m not the one that’s been distant. You’re the one who hasn’t been considering your best mates. And actions always have consequences, Ron,” he finished in a more quiet and deadly voice.

“Here you go,” Ginny announced, coming into the room carrying a plate of food. She came over and set it in front of Harry, “With extra mash- just the way you like it.”

“You shouldn’t have, Gin,” Harry said, not breaking his eye contact with Ron.

Ginny smiled, “It was no trouble. What about you Ron? Want another plate? What, I think you’re on your fifth- or is it the sixth serving?”

“No. I-I have to go,” Ron stumbled, getting up from his chair rather suddenly.

His sister frowned, “But Harry only just got here. You’ve spent the past half hour moaning about how you never have any quality bloke time anymore…”

“Yeah Ron,” Harry agreed, “Why don’t you stay? Give us a chance to talk more.”

Ron’s eyes flickered as he stared into Harry’s. The traditional Weasley trait of embarrassment flushed red on his cheeks and around his ears as he shook his head, “Maybe another time. Thanks for the food Ginny.”

“The Burrow next Sunday. Make sure you’re there, alright brother?” Ginny said as she came around the table and kissed him on the cheek.

Harry watched as he kissed her back and agreed reluctantly, “Yeah.”

He shot Harry one last turmoiled look before turning and walking out of the Potter’s dining room.

…

Hermione looked up over her desk and smiled as she watched Amia make another humph of content as she read over the chapter Hermione had assigned for tonight. “You’re making some good noises over there,” Hermione said, momentarily forgetting the 2^nd year papers she was grading.

“This stuff’s actually pretty interesting,” Mia replied before shooting her a look over the big text, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Hermione smirked, “Coming from the girl who fell asleep trying to read this only a few hours earlier? Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Hey!” Amia scoffed light-heartedly, “It wasn’t so much this as it was the discussion about Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. That’s like a lullaby to anyone who knows it. I’m surprised you weren’t getting sleepy just talking about it. And in my further defence, it was 9 in the morning.”

“A normal hour to the rest of us humans,” Hermione responded, still grinning.

Amia again looked over her book at her, this time with a much more wild look. “I never claimed to be human,” she whispered, her beautiful green eyes going crazy in joke of the situation.

Hermione laughed, “I’m claiming it for you right now. Keep reading.”

“With pleasure,” Mia mumbled, turning back to the text book. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself as she watched Mia reading. With her bag thrown on the floor, her robes hung uncaringly over the side of her chair, and her feet propped up on the desk, it all reminded her of Harry’s old studying techniques.

She couldn’t help but take a couple extra moments of admiring her before turning back to her essays that needed grading.

She didn’t get very far though. Not even thirty seconds had passed before the door to the classroom abruptly shot open. Hermione jumped up immediately, her hand reaching for her wand while Amia spun around in her seat.

Ron Weasley paid no attention to the student sitting at the front desk and instead stalked straight towards Hermione.

“Ron!” Hermione said, her voice appalled but her face already contorting into an angry glare.

Also glaring, he pointed a finger at her, “We need to talk.”

Hermione let out furious breath through her nose as she did her best not to look into the confused face of Amia. She didn’t want to draw any attention towards her with Ron standing so close…

“I’ll be right back. Keep reading,” she muttered at Amia while walking down the isle towards Ron. She could feel her eyes on her back as she walked to him and pointed at the door.

“Outside.”

Ron said nothing and followed her out of the double oak doors. Hermione made sure they were completely closed before spinning on him.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re doing here and what the hell that was all about? I was with a student, Ronald!”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Ron screamed at her, a lot more angry than she had any explanation for. However, what he said next made his fury all make sense, “You fucking told him, didn’t you!”

“Told who what?” Hermione asked despite herself.

“Told Harry about what happened! I was just over at their house and he was looking at me like he wanted to beat me to a bloody pulp! Why else would he look at me like that if you haven’t told him?”

“Well there’s several possibilities, but I’m not Harry so I couldn’t explain them to you,” Hermione replied, folding her arms defiantly.

Ron scoffed, “Oh, stop fucking with my head and just admit it! You told him!”

“Have you ever thought that maybe Harry’s caught you as well?” Hermione asked, suddenly outraged that she was being put on the spot like this. What right did he have? She wasn’t the one to cheat! She had done nothing wrong, yet here he was acting like she’d committed the worst of sins!

Her comment seemed to make him think though, because he was suddenly quieter as he glared, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been in a closer proximity with him than you have with me,” Hermione bit out, “Who knows for sure how long you’ve been sneaking around or how many times he’s caught you. Maybe you should think about that instead of coming here and accusing me!”

“That’s shite Hermione and you know it!” he spat, now shouting again, “You probably ran off to him first thing. You probably thought that since you couldn’t have me anymore, that he was your best bet!”

“I would never think about destroying someone’s marriage like you’ve destroyed ours! I would never want Ginny to experience the humiliation or stress over having to tell their kids, like I have! I am not the villain here, Ronald!”

“Oh, here we go again! I’m the bad guy, this is all my fault right?!”

“I didn’t ask you to cheat on me,” Hermione said through clenched teeth. She hadn’t felt her blood boil like this for quite some time. The mount of effort she had to put in to simply have a conversation with Ron frustrated her to no end. And to think she had been married to an asshole like this for nearly fifteen years!

“Well if you didn’t tell him then who did?”

“It’s quite obvious that you’re not as stealthy as you think you are. I don’t have to stand here and go over theories concerning your infidelity with you. This is your mess Ron. Take some fucking responsibility for it.”

Ron scoffed again and took a couple steps back. Hermione didn’t know what he was about to do, but did take note that his face was burning a bright shade of scarlet, and his hands were clenched into fists. Subtly, she reached her hand into her pocket and grabbed her wand, just in case Ron’s rage made him spiral out of control.

Thankfully it wasn’t necessary, and after a couple moments of stewing he turned to point at her again, “This isn’t over.”

Hermione snorted confidently, “Famous last words. Now leave before I get security.”

She was relieved to watch him turn and storm off down the hall. She didn’t know what exactly compelled him to come here and confront her like this, but she could only assume that he and Harry must’ve came in contact at some point. And unlike she, Harry was truly angry for what Ron had done. Her only hope was that he didn’t fly off the handle. Even though she appreciated Harry’s protectiveness (something of which’s extent also confused her), she didn’t want Ron and Harry fighting over her. That would only lead to others getting involved, and then people finding out of whom she wasn’t ready to tell. She had enough on her plate as it was with Amia; she didn’t want to add a family feud to it as well.

Hermione stood outside the class for a couple quiet minutes, hoping that Amia hadn’t heard too much of the screaming match that had just taken place.

When she finally thought she had enough composure to go back in, she opened the doors and found Mia staring straight at her. Nervous of how much she’d heard, she put on a smile, “Finished yet?”

“I couldn’t concentrate over the noise.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry you had to see and hear that.”

Amia gave Hermione a once-over before shrugging, “It’s fine. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Hermione replied resolutely, heading up the isle towards her desk.

“You don’t look very fine,” Amia replied as she walked past.

Hermione stopped and sighed again before turning to look at her, “It’s a long story, Mia.”

“We got time. Was that your husband?”

Hermione bit her lip before nodding, “Yeah. Ron.”

“How long have you been together?”

“About 15 years. But we’ve known each other since we were eleven. We were best friends growing up,” Hermione said, her tone not giving away any depth or emotion.

Mia nodded before gesturing towards Hermione, “You don’t wear a ring.”

Hermione too looked down to her left hand, bare of any semblance of marriage or commitment before looking back up to her, “No. I don’t.”

Amia nodded again before asking, “Is he the only guy you’ve ever been with?”

Hermione froze, “Uh…”

“Sorry,” Mia mumbled sheepishly, “Just curious.”

“It’s complicated,” Hermione finally said with a light shrug of her own.

Amia nodded and sat quietly pondering for a couple minutes. Hermione was just about to tell her to get back to reading when she spoke up.

“You know, when my mom found out that my dad had lost all of his money, she accused him of ruining our family. But despite everything, I’ve never blamed my dad. He was just too considerate to all of our wants- that’s why he ran out of money.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered, that being the only thing she could think of to say. Well, she knew what she’d like to call Kirsten Cooper, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate to do so in front of Mia. Actually Amia probably would’ve loved it, but it would confuse her nonetheless.

“I’ve always figured if my dad just spoke for himself that none of it would have ever happened. The only reason that he didn’t is because he thought it would hurt us- but in the end that’s all that happened.”

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, finally realizing what she was getting at. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Amia in a much more vulnerable light, “He thinks if we separate that Rose and Hugo will hate me.”

Amia shook her head immediately, “They won’t. Not if you just talk to them and tell them the truth. The hatred happens when they find the truth piece by piece from someone who isn’t their mom or dad.”

“I want to be straightforward with them,” Hermione whispered, now looking down at the ground, “but I don’t want them to think less of Ron.”

Mia nodded in sympathy, “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Hermione shrugged, still not meeting her eyes, “We never really fell in love… just got pregnant and figured it was best for the baby if we got married.”

“It’s not too late…” Amia offered gently, “if you think that’s something you want. I mean, your still pretty young…”

At that, Hermione cracked a smile, “I don’t know. It’s definitely really complicated.”

“Well, I’m sure your kids and the rest of your family will understand. I’m sure they just want you to be happy.”

“Happy…” she muttered, playing the word over in her head. Unconsciously her eyes turned back up towards Mia’s. They stayed staring at each other for a few seconds before Hermione finally sighed, “That is something that is so close, yet so far away.”

“You should go for it- whatever it is you’re talking about.”

Hermione again smiled at her encouragement. It made her happy to hear that from her, even though she had no idea what her happiness really entailed of…

“You’re only sixteen. How are you so wise?”

Amia let out a long winded sigh as she sat back in her chair. Finally, she simply pointed upward, “It’s just God-given, Hermione.”

She grinned, “Of course. One of your many talents.”

Now also smiling, she shrugged, “You were willing to listen to my issues, it’s only nice to return the favour.”

“Thank you,” Hermione muttered sincerely, but also with an edge of longing. Never in a million years did she think she’d be taking love advice from her estranged daughter, especially given the people involved…

“Can I finish this tomorrow?” Amia asked, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. Hermione’s eyes shot to hers and she realized she was referring to the reading. She quickly nodded.

“Yeah. It’s late, you should be getting to bed.”

Mia nodded and moved to start gathering up her belongings. She was just finishing putting on her cloak and about to grab her bag when Hermione thought of something.

“Hey, wait…”

Mia turned to her, “Yeah?”

“C-Can you just…”

Mia seemed to understand instantly, “I won’t tell them. Anyone.”

Hermione bit her lip, “Thanks.”

Amia waved it off as she slung her book bag over her shoulder. She was just about to turn to walk down the isle, but stopped short.

Unexpectedly, she looked back at Hermione with a curious look, “But when are you?”

Hermione blew out a long awaited breath, “I’m trying to figure that one out.”

Mia spent an extra second looking at her befriended professor before nodding, “Night Hermione.”

“Good night Amia.”

---

Next chapter: Hermione makes a big decision, Harry has to deal with some new cases at work, and Amia becomes determined to make Rose have a little fun.

Please review!!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 13: Acquaintances? Friends? Something More?

---

Hermione stood facing the Ministry’s lift on the 6^th floor with a small, but significant smile on her face. She had taken her Tuesday lunch break to come to the Ministry to visit her friend Henry. It had only been a couple days prior when she had stated with shaky hesitation that she wasn’t ready to file her and Ron’s divorce papers. However, today she had gone to her old friend’s office with total confidence.

She’d been lying if she said that this new found assuredness hadn’t come in part from Amia. But nevertheless, she had found her way to one resolution. And even though she didn’t know when she’d get around to telling her kids, she was sure that she was ready to break the ties that held her and Ron together. After nearly 15 years of an insincere marriage, she was ready to take a stand for herself.

Hermione was still caught up in her own thoughts when the bell for the lift dinged open in front of her. Blindly, she stepped forward into the lift and collided with a hard mass that was coming out.

“Sor- Harry!”

“Hermione?” Harry asked looking down at her, his face immediately contorting into a worried expression, “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine. Just… filing some paperwork.” She already knew that lying to Harry would do no good. He’d find out eventually…

He raised an eyebrow, “Some paperwork?”

“Yeah. It’s over between Ron and I. No use sitting around and doing nothing about it.”

Hermione watched carefully as the expression dimmed on Harry’s face. Slowly, he started to nod, “That’s good. Great.”

The conversation died as Harry stared down at Hermione. She knew she shouldn’t have even been tempted, but she stared back just as silently for a few moments before forcing herself to look away. With her cheeks tinged a slight pink, she cleared her throat and changed the subject, “So what are you doing here?”

“Work,” Harry replied, his tone suddenly much harsher, “Martin McQue was found in a trance in his home.”

“Martin McQue?” Hermione asked, recognizing the name of the very reputable wizard barrister, “What kind of trance?”

He shook his head, “We’re not sure. But it seems like his magic has been drained from his body. When we found him he was unresponsive and near death.”

“Oh my god… his poor family…”

Harry nodded just as solemnly, “Yeah, his wife didn’t know anything. I was planning on questioning a few of his colleagues here.”

“I hope you get some answers. This sounds serious.” Hermione didn’t realize, but as she finished she reached out and squeezed Harry’s hand.

Instead of pulling away, he squeezed back in response. It was a habitual response- something that just made him feel right in doing so. However, the gesture also made them both realize what they were doing. He glanced down to their joined hands and couldn’t help but sound awkward when he spoke, “Yeah. So…”

Hermione too looked down before dropping his hand. Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she looked up at him, “What?”

“Is everything okay? At Hogwarts?”

Hermione shrugged lightly. That question held so many different answers. Rose was growing more and more suspicious about Hermione’s behaviour. Hermione knew she’d have to come to terms with this and eventually sit Rose down to talk, but right now she was too preoccupied by how well things were going with Mia. She was making some great strides with her, and she knew that she was well on her way to gaining Amia’s full trust. However, with the events of yesterday, there was one thing in particular that Hermione figured Harry might be interested in knowing.

She shot him a deliberate look before speaking, “Ron stopped by yesterday.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised again, “He did?”

“While Mia was finishing her lesson.”

Panic instantly crossed his face, “Did he-”

“He didn’t notice her,” Hermione cut him off, “He was too busy with his fury to notice anything or anyone else.”

“Did he hurt you?” Harry asked quietly, anxiously waiting for an answer. He could already feel the rage boiling within him if her answer were to come out as an affirmative.

Luckily for him though, Hermione shook her head, “No. Just screamed. A lot. Apparently he was under the impression that I had told you about his affair.”

He sighed, “That’s my fault. He was with Ginny when I came home last night. I’m sorry I couldn’t control my attitude.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione said gently, going back to staring into his eyes. She knew yesterday when Ron showed up that he hadn’t done this intentionally. The thing about Harry was that even when she wasn’t around, he was constantly trying to protect her. The part that confused her was that he hadn’t really done this in quite sometime. It was a sign of the old Harry. The Harry that she had fallen madly-

She forced herself to discontinue that thought and immediately looked away from his eyes. She could’ve sworn that those eyes were the demise to all of her rational thinking…

“At least something positive’s come out of it,” Harry said after a couple seconds.

Hermione nodded trying to forget her previous thoughts, “Yeah. It was definitely a wake up call; it made me realize that I really didn’t want to be married to a man who could treat me like that anymore.”

Again Harry reached forward and squeezed her hand, “It’ll all work out ‘Mione. I promise.”

Hermione froze. She hadn’t heard that nickname in over 16 years. Any thought she’d just told herself to forget about Harry wanting to protect her again was blown away by the emotion punched into her after hearing her old name. Deep down, ineffable to her present state of mind, that name struck something in her that she never thought she would’ve felt again.

While Hermione was frozen in a state of confusion and remembrance, Harry was mentally cursing himself for letting it slip. It, the one thing he knew he wasn’t allowed to call her anymore. But he’d never been able to stop his mind from mentally referring to her as that. Especially now, she was his ‘Mione more than ever. Nevertheless, he knew he’d undoubtedly made her remember the emotions that went behind that name. The love he’d always put into it, yet the eventual despair that it came to represent…

He knew he needed to apologize to her, however every fibre of his being was aching against it.

Though, as fate would have it, the lift chose to open at that moment and the ugly mug of Zacharias Smith came out. Luckily for Harry, the old hufflepuff’s appearance distracted Hermione from his slip. Unluckily for him, he was now forced to deal with Smith.

“I hope you’ve gotten some answers, Potter. This case is minutes away from going to the press.”

Harry sent a glare at the blonde man before turning to Hermione. He gave her a small smile, “Gotta run. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded quickly, already backing up towards the lift, “Good luck with everything.”

“You too,” Harry whispered as he watched his old love hurry onto the lift and press a button for the atrium.

…

Hermione couldn’t help but smile as she looked out over the Great Hall from her position at the professor’s table. She was enjoying dinner tonight, casually talking to Neville and watching her kids at the Gryffindor table. She was relaxed more than normal because she hadn’t had the worry of waiting around for Mia to get to dinner. That night, she had walked in rather early along side Rose. The shock that Hermione felt at seeing this was quickly replaced with an overwhelming sensation of happiness that came with the sight of her two daughters together. It was like they were becoming sisters already; they both helped each other out. They were a good balance. Just like sisters.

Hermione began to eat more pensively as she watched her two girls, involved in what seemed to be a hearty conversation with their fellow Gryffindors, wondering poignantly if they would ever know how connected they truly were.

“I bloody hate Filch,” James grumbled, throwing down his chicken wing, “It’s like he’s not happy unless he’s snivelling down innocent Gryffindors’ backs.”

Rose snorted, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think throwing dung bombs at Professor Denham’s door qualifies you as innocent.”

Mia laughed and turned to James, “You really did that?”

A smug look came over his face as he straightened up and shook his head, “Look, you can’t prove anything.”

“Well at least he’s horrible to everyone,” Amia replied after everyone, minus Rose, let out a light laugh, “I thought it was just me who he had a problem with.”

James quirked an eyebrow, “Filch got you in trouble? For what?”

“I tripped over a statue of armour. He showed up out of nowhere thinking I was up to no good,” Mia shrugged, figuring that minor details would hold over her new friends.

“Rotten bastard,” James scoffed.

The casual banter was suddenly diverted as owls started flooding into the Great Hall. Mia noticed her housemate’s sudden eagerness before quietly turning back to her food. She sort of hated when the owl’s came; she never got any letters, and watching the looks of delight come across everyone’s faces when an owl dropped something in their laps only rubbed what she was missing in her face.

James and Carson felt the opposite of Mia and where perfect examples to the delight she referred to as the owls started dropping their objects.

Carson nudged James excitedly, “Oi, you think your uncle has written back yet?”

“I hope so!” James muttered, not taking his eyes away from the ceiling.

Rose frowned as she watched them, “What are you two planning?”

“Nothing that concerns you Miss Prefect,” James goaded her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. It didn’t take a particularly bright person to see that the two boys obviously were planning something.

As Rose rolled her eyes at her cousin, she too looked back up at the ceiling to see if she had anything coming. A small brown owl, one that she didn’t recognize, looked as if it were heading straight for her. After a couple seconds though, she could tell it was heading slightly past her.

She nudged Amia, “Hey, this one’s heading straight for you.”

“What?” Mia looked up to see the brown owl flying directly for her. A frown came over her face as she started to shake her head, “But I never get mail…”

Up at the staff table, Hermione watched as a small owl swooped down and dropped a letter to Amia. The immediate frown casted over the girl’s face worried her; was it a letter from home? From Kirsten, maybe?

Hermione was too obsessed with her burning curiosity to know what the letter signified that she didn’t notice the expression on Mia’s face as she turned it over and read where it was from. If she had, she would’ve noticed Mia’s eyes widen and her jaw go slack. Even the tremble of her hands could’ve been noticeable from the staff table.

…

Hermione sat behind her desk, gripping a quill tightly in her hand. All of the relaxation she had felt at dinner an hour ago was gone. She was now back to the worry and anxiety that she’d grown accustomed to ever since Amia showed up in her classroom.

She was fifteen minutes late for their lesson. She hadn’t sent a note and nobody had come by to explain her absence. As of now, Amia was missing.

Hermione had told herself to just start on some of her third years’ essays to pass the time- maybe she was getting her homework together, or doing some pre-lesson readings…

Or maybe the contents of the letter she’d received at dinner troubled her enough to cause her to miss class. The desire to know what that letter was about burned evermore strongly in Hermione’s heart as she watched the clock tick off another minute.

Just as she was telling herself that she was going to have to go look for her, the door opened and a troubled looking Mia slipped through.

“Hey!” Hermione called to her, relief flooding through her, “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it.”

Amia looked up to her and Hermione immediately noticed her eyes lacked the sparkle they usually carried. Something was definitely wrong with her…

“Sorry. Lost track of time,” she muttered, setting her things down before sitting down her normal seat.

“It’s ok. You alright?”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out her homework and book from her book bag before looking back up, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine I guess.”

Her response wasn’t genuine at all. Because of that, Hermione felt like she was obligated to ask, “I noticed you got some mail at dinner. News from home?” she pried gently.

Amia’s eyes darted down to her book, “Uh, yeah.”

“It must be good to hear from your family…”

A small smirk came over Amia’s face as she scoffed, “My family doesn’t write me. It was from my friend. Well, my old friend…”

Hermione couldn’t quite explain the relief she felt after hearing that it wasn’t Kirsten who wrote her. Really, Kirsten should’ve been writing her because that’s what a good mother would do to their child abroad. But Kirsten was a shit mother, and while Hermione knew it was dangerous to feel so, she couldn’t help but think that she was more of a mother to Mia with only her few weeks of knowing her then Kirsten had ever been. So obviously she shouldn’t expect much from this woman.

“Are you two having a fight?” Hermione asked gently after realizing that Amia was back to being quiet.

She shrugged dimly, “No, not really. Just a disagreement. He can be really stubborn.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, “Oh. Is this friend a boyfriend?”

The dejected, gloomy look on Amia’s face immediately turned into a wildly defensive frown, “No! He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since I was born!”

“Well he’s obviously trying to make an attempt if he’s writing you,” Hermione proposed regardless.

Mia bit her lip and turned back to staring at the book laying on her desk. A flash of worry struck Hermione when after a few silent moments she only shrugged. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds…

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” Hermione told her softly after another couple seconds. She at least wanted to leave her with an uplifting note that she wasn’t completely alone.

However Amia wasn’t so sworn to silence as Hermione figured. After a couple more silent beats the girl sat up and shook her head, “He wants more than friendship and it’s just making things more complicated than necessary.”

“Ah… Best friend to boyfriend can be a difficult transition.”

Again, she shook her head, this time more vigorously, “I don’t want him to be my boyfriend. I mean, we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. We’ve always been there for each other. Risking our friendship doesn’t seem worth it.”

“You’re so convinced that it wouldn’t work out?”

“Relationships come to an end,” Amia said in a voice full of determination. Her tone made Hermione think she’d had to explain this before, “Especially when they start so young. It’s not realistic to think that we’d stay together. Eventually something would tear us apart. I’d rather not risk losing him.”

“That’s a reasonable concern. But, if my advice means anything, I would tell you that the loss is better than the regret. If you’re as good of friends as you say then you’ll find a way to always remain friends.” As she spoke, she couldn’t help but wonder if everything she was saying was a lie. After all, look at her relationship with Harry. Complete silence for pretty much sixteen years. And now… well, Hermione had no idea where her and Harry’s relationship was at now. Acquaintances? Friends? Something more? If only something more was that easy…

‘But this is completely different,’ Hermione cut herself off, ’Mia and her friend haven’t gone through what Harry and I went through as kids. She’s not pregnant with this bloke’s baby…’

Amia seemed to really take in Hermione’s words and was quiet for a few solid moments. Eventually though, she seemed to give up and shrugged, “It’s complicated.”

Hermione nodded understandingly, “I know a little about complicated. Consider what it would be like before ruling anything out. You might be surprised with your own feelings…”

“I guess.”

“What’s his name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“TJ. He’s the boy next door.”

“And he’s good to you?”

Again, Amia seemed to think hard on Hermione’s question before nodding, “Yeah.”

“Then don’t rule him out.”

She nodded quietly before clearing her throat and straightening up in her seat. Hermione could tell as she looked up to her with a more content glimmer in her eyes that she was at least trying to feel better.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked.

Hermione grinned and stood up from behind her desk, “Well, I thought we’d continue on with…”

---

Please review!!! Next chapter should be up shortly!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 14: A Case In Motion

---

[AN] Sorry last chapter lacked its usual amount of length and spice. Got more of a filling chapter in store for you today.

---

Rose was quiet walking back from Ancient Runes, her last class of the day. She knew she had patrols at 10 tonight but was wondering what else she could do to fill up her time. Of course, she could study. After all O.W.L.s were only 8 months away and it was never too early to start preparing. However, with all the time she’d been spending with Amia, she was starting to allow herself time for things to just come up. Her schedule was definitely different now that she had a steady friend and she didn’t really mind that, seeing as her grades were still top notch. Giving herself time for recreation had proven to be quite the good thing.

She was just coming upon the entrance to the staircase when she heard a chorus of voices coming out from the dungeons. A 6^th year Gryffindor boy caught her eye and made her stop. Mia also had potions this hour- at least they could walk back together.

The search for her friend ended quickly. Rose was quick to spot Mia standing ahead of the other students near the boys loo on the other side of the corridor. Truthfully, it was the person she was standing with and talking animatedly to who she spotted first.

Rose froze as she watched Mia laugh at something Scorpius said. The two looked like comfortable friends, especially him. It didn’t seem to phase Scorpius Malfoy at all that he was talking to a Gryffindor. That must of meant something special for Amia…

Rose didn’t know how long she had been staring for, but it must’ve been long enough for one of the last Slytherins making their way past to shout out a comment about her Weasley heritage.

Rose didn’t pay any attention to the rude girl, but the call did catch Mia’s attention. She jerked her head around Scorpius and grinned when she saw her friend standing by the edge of the hall.

Rose, not even realizing that Amia was staring straight at her, jolted when the older girl waved her over. However, when Scorpius turned around and looked at her with his steely blue, knee-buckling eyes, she completely panicked.

In a flash, she spun on her heel and hooked a right into the room containing the grand staircase. She jumped on it and ran up the stairs two at a time, too scared to look back.

…

Turns out, leaving time to hang out with Mia wasn’t necessary after all. Once Rose had ran the entire distance to her room and hid herself in her bed, her head buried under her pillow, for a good hour, she had decided to simply resort to one of her original forms of time-filling.

Studying. Quietly, in the corner of the common room that had come to be her own since no one ever went around it because she was always there… studying.

So naturally, the redhead didn’t look up as the portrait hole opened and a random Gryffindor walked in. When the random Gryffindor walked over and dropped her book bag on the table in front of Rose, she jumped about a foot.

“What up Rose?” asked Mia, sitting down in the seat opposite her.

“Mia! Hi…”

She raised a concerned eyebrow, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Rose replied, shaking her head quickly, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You alright?” Mia asked after observing the girl for a couple seconds.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” Rose responded immediately.

Mia narrowed her eyes, “You’ve been acting kind of off today. What was up with you in the corridor earlier?”

“Nothing. I just had to get to class.”

“Oh. You seemed like you were shocked or something and then you just ran away.”

“I didn't run away, I just didn't want to interrupt you with him.”

Amia’s face contorted into a frown as she leaned back in her seat, “With him? You mean Scorpius?”

“Yeah,” Rose nodded bleakly, looking back to her reading.

“But I waved you over. It's not like you would have been interrupting us.”

“Oh. Right.”

Rose didn’t look up from her book and continued to act like she was reading. Amia didn’t buy the façade she was trying to put up one bit, but was confused why Rose wouldn’t just tell her if something was up. Why was she trying to hide something from her? After a couple minutes of examining the younger girl, she could only come up with one conclusion.

And it definitely made sense.

“You like him, don't you?” Amia asked her with a small grin.

The fifth year’s first reaction proved to Mia that her theory was correct. Rose snapped her head up and slammed her book close. With wide eyes and a disgruntled expression, she started to shake her head, “What?! I- No! I don't! He- he's…”

Amia folded her arms across her chest smugly, “Oh, so you really like him.”

“No! I…” The determined frown of denial on her face slowly faded. Suddenly, Rose was staring at Amia, desperately anxious. She leaned forward, her tone now merely above a whisper, “Mia you can't say anything about this. If anyone were to find out, then they'd tell someone else and then eventually the whole school would know. If my family found out about that... They'd probably disown me.”

Amia frowned in all seriousness, “I'm sure they'd get over it Rose.”

She shook her head sadly, “You don't understand. Weasley's and Malfoy's have been enemies for decades. It's a big deal. My dad would murder me.”

“Rose that's bullshit,” Mia burst after frowning in disgust for a couple long seconds. She’d never heard of a more unworthy prejudice. She couldn’t believe that someone as innocent as Rose was actually scared of such bullshit.

Rose shrugged, “It's just the way it is.”

“So just like that, you're not going to act on your feelings for someone because your family is prejudice against a last name?”

“It's not that they're prejudice, it's just the Malfoy's have always been followers of the dark. Weasley's stand for the light…” Rose tried explaining more gently.

“I thought you didn't play into the whole Gryffindors are good and Slytherins are bad thing?”

“I don't! It's just… It's complicated. Plus it's not like he likes me back. The whole thing is pointless.”

“It's not pointless,” Mia said again with just as much conviction as before, “I think if you like him you should talk to him. Regardless of what you think your Dad would say. You can't let other people dictate your life Rose.”

Rose let her words sink in before shaking her head hopelessly, “I wouldn't even know how to talk to him. Even though I don't believe in the House divide, I'm sure he's been taught to live that way.”

“You'll never know if you don't talk to him,” Amia encouraged, “Plus, you saw me talking to him. It wasn’t a big deal then.”

This time, it was Rose who scoffed, “Yeah, but you're you and I'm me. I'm sure any bloke would be eager to talk to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You're American and you're gorgeous, but overall interesting. On the other hand, I'm quiet and I actually enjoy school, but mainly I'm just another ginger haired Weasley to litter the halls of Hogwarts. I mean, you heard that Slytherin girl earlier.”

Amia frowned remembering what she’d heard someone shout about the Weasley’s after Potions. Obviously there was still evidence of a House divide, but that didn’t mean she or Rose had to fall for it.

“Anyone ever tell you that your self confidence sucks?”

She only shrugged, “It's the truth.”

“Wow. You're never going to get what you want with that attitude,” Mia said, shaking her head.

“It's the only attitude I've ever had,” Rose returned with another helpless shrug.

Amia narrowed her eyes in determination before shaking her head, “Not anymore. It's time to spread your wings Rose Weasley.”

Rose frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Keep your schedule clear this weekend, okay?”

“Why? Mia?” Rose asked, growing even more confused as the California girl stood up and grabbed her bag.

Mia shot Rose a sly grin, “I'll talk to you later,” she said before turning and hurrying back out of the portrait hole.

…

After dinner, a good amount of Gryffindor house was lounging around the common room, finishing homework, reading magazines, and talking to friends. Rose was writing out a draft of her Ancient Runes essay on a couch in front of the fire while Mia was sprawled on the other side, her feet up on the table and her eyes roaming around the cosy room.

After coming back from her secretive exit that afternoon, Rose had tried several times to ask Amia what she was planning. Refusing to tell her anything every time she asked eventually brought a lull to their conversation, leaving them in their current state of amicable silence.

As her eyes roamed, a bright coloured flyer lying underneath one of Rose’s books caught Amia’s eyes.

“What’s that?” she asked, nodding off in its direction.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Rose exclaimed, grabbing the flyer, “I need to post this on the bulletin board.”

“Can I see?”

“Yeah.”

Amia took it from her and quietly read over the announcement. When she was done she looked up with a questioning face, “Hogsmeade weekend? What’s that?”

“All third years and up are allowed to head out to Hogsmeade for Saturday. Fifth years and up are allowed to go Friday nights and Saturdays now,” Rose explained excitedly.

Mia nodded, turning back to the flyer, “Sounds pretty cool.”

“Yeah they’re always good weekends. There’s loads of good shops. The town is really cool. I can’t wait for the first weekend in a couple weeks.”

The way Rose spoke about it struck up an idea in Mia’s mind. A slow grin started to form on her face as she started to think about the idea.

“Rose!”

Both Rose and Amia turned to see Hugo, muddy and sweaty as all hell, tramping up to them. “Guess what?” he asked, plopping down in between them, “I did great at practice! Totally wowed James!”

“Awesome…” Rose muttered, lifting her eyebrows, totally unimpressed.

Her look and tone didn’t phase her brother, “And guess what! Today when James released the bludgers for the scrimmage, one of ‘em zoomed right at me! I thought it was confounded because it really had it out for me, but I saddled up and slammed that bugger to the other side of the pitch! It never had a chance!”

“Again, awesome.”

Hugo scoffed, “Where’s mum? I’d rather talk to someone who can be happy for me right now.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “I don’t know, but speaking of Mum, we need to talk about what to get her for her birthday. It’s this Saturday, remember?”

“I remember,” Hugo said, clearly offended that his sister had implied differently.

“Well what are you thinking about getting her? I was going to write a letter to Nana to see if she’ll send the gifts to us.”

Hugo thought long and hard for a couple seconds, “Um, we could get her some ear rings or something…”

Rose frowned, “Her ears aren’t pierced.”

“Or, well what about a book? She’d like that.”

“We got her books last year…”

“Well I don’t know! Why am I the only one coming up with ideas?”

Rose glared at him, “You’re so juvenile Hugo.”

“Better than shrewd and stuck up!”

“I’m not stuck up!”

Amia sat there not really listening to the two siblings squabble. Her thoughts had shifted courses after hearing about Hermione’s upcoming birthday. She hadn’t told Amia in class that she was about to have a birthday… maybe it had slipped her professor’s mind. Nevertheless, now that she knew, it only seemed right to get her something. After all, Hermione had done a lot for her before they had even really gotten to know each other. She’d put her neck on the line a couple times for her, so a birthday present was definitely a good way to show her her thanks.

Rose and Hugo continued to fight while Amia was bombarded with ideas over what to get their mother.

…

Harry sighed as he watched the Head Auror answer questions from reporters from behind a window in the press room. He was at a complete lost over this new case. Just as they were beginning to get more and more confused about Martin McQue’s case, who had no improvement in his condition at the hospital, another incident happened. This time it was Paul Simon who had his magic drained. It was a similar fashion as before; Paul, a very reputable wizard within the Magical Cooperation department had just gotten home from work when it appears someone came through the back door and took him out from behind. At St. Mungo’s they estimated about 90% of his magic was gone.

But how this magic was taken, where, and why were the remaining mystery that the aurors were going crazy trying to solve. No one had any idea of any possibilities, and until the victims woke up or a culprit was caught, it was likely to stay that way.

Naturally, in the meantime when the Daily Prophet got hold of the news, press started flooding the ministry. It was now an open riot in the news room Harry was looking into, and for good reason. This was the first serious incident where the authorities had no leads on anything in about seventeen years. The press would automatically jump on it. Harry just felt bad for his Head of Department, Gawain Robards, the bloke responsible for dealing with that open riot.

“Hello Harry.”

Harry turned around in surprise- he thought he had been alone in the observation room. However, his surprise turned into a smile when he saw Luna Lovegood standing next to him. Even at 35, she looked as dreamy and innocent as she did 20 years ago. He came forward to give his old friend a hug.

“Luna! It’s good to see you.”

“You as well. You’re looking refreshed. You’re spirit is a lot more optimistic,” Luna noted, stepping back to observe him in full.

Harry too looked down at himself with a miffed expression, “Er, thanks. You here for the Quibbler? The press conference is in there, you know.”

“I know. I thought I’d come see you instead.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. Even though Luna had taken over her father’s position as lead reporter at the Quibbler, she never called upon her friendship with Harry to get any special favours. He wondered if today would be the first to break that tradition.

“Yes. What are you doing about these cases, Harry?”

Harry noticed that she hadn’t even picked up the notepad she was holding to indicate that she’d be taking any notes. Wondering if she was asking just for her own knowledge, he started to slowly answer, “Well… we’re searching the crime scenes and the surrounding areas. Looking for any signs of a duplication; anything that would indicate the same person was at both homes. Then of course we have healers monitoring the victims at St. Mungo’s. We’re hoping that they’ll wake up soon so we can start to question them. See if they have any of the same enemies or if there’s any connections there. Also we’re cross-referencing their signatures with other cases to see if anyone’s been able to utilize their magic… even though that’d be impossible. Really, that step is just to assure the public that we’re doing everything we can. I don’t agree to it-”

“Why not?”

Harry gave Luna a strange look, “Because it’s a waste of time. Their magic can’t be reused.”

“I’m confused,” Luna said, her eyes wide with the mysticism of her thoughts, “I thought you knew that the magic was stolen.”

“Stolen?” Harry repeated.

“Yes. Why else do you think it’s happen twice? This criminal is trying to stockpile it.”

“Luna,” Harry said, shaking his head unbelievingly, “Magic can’t be stolen. It just can’t be.”

“You think that way because it’s never been done before. And why would it need to be? If every wizard and witch had their own magic to manipulate? But this case is different, Harry. Someone is stealing magic- powerful magic- and if they’ve done it twice, my guess is that they’ll do it again.”

Harry stood there completely aghast with Luna’s theory. On one hand, it was completely crazy. All throughout school they had taught them that one wizard’s signature was his own and only his own. Two signatures couldn’t be mixed. Before this, Harry had put his faith in that. But now… what if Luna was right? What if whoever was doing this had found a loophole in that theory? Or what if they were doing this not for the purpose of reusing it themselves… what if they were trying to create something with it? Like a weapon?

“But… Magic is as powerful as the witch or wizard makes it-”

“And when you got a bit of Tom Riddle’s magic put in you, that made you a complete nibbimbley head at magic, did it?”

Harry was silenced again. No one had said that name in front of him in over sixteen years. The rush of cold that ran up his spine was only a faint reminder of his past. Unknowingly, his hand raised and he brushed his fingertips over the old scar that used to control so much of his life as a child.

What was most chilling of all was that she was right. Yes, he had inherited good magical blood through his father’s Peverell ancestry. But he also had certain advantages that were privy to Riddle’s horcrux.

But who could be in the stealing magic business and where it even came from was beyond him. How could you even steal someone’s magic? Or leave no traces of your own while doing so?

“I see you have a lot of work to get to, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you Harry. I hope you remain optimistic.”

Too enamoured with confusion and questions, Harry couldn’t even move to wave back as the blonde waved at him before elegantly sliding out of the small room.

…

Mia really wish she had her favourite ray bans to put on to guard her from the shining California sun. She’d missed it dreadfully- living somewhere in the north of the UK really didn’t mean a lot of direct sunlight- but right now it was definitely a bit much, giving the fact she’d just apparated from a place where it was completely dark out.

Shielding her eyes, and trying to be as stealth as possible, she jumped out from the nook that the infinity pool in their backyard provided, and climbed up onto the pool deck of her house. She knew her mother was probably still asleep and her sister should’ve been at school, but it was the neighbours seeing her that worried her most. Because of that she ran across the grass as fast as she could to the pool house. As soon as she had made it, she pulled out her wand and tapped it against the door handle. The lock clicked and the door popped open, letting Mia slip inside.

She let out a sigh of relief as soon as she was inside. Her relief was immediately washed over with nostalgia as she opened her eyes and took in her room which she hadn’t been in in a few weeks.

Everything was just the way she left it (thanks to the charm she’d put on her door). Her bed was still a little messy and unkempt, just the way she liked it, a couple of her favourite books were still propped open, and even the CD drawer on her stereo was still open. It was almost like she had never left- which was exactly what she’d hoped to feel when she finally came home.

She was smiling by the time she’d made her rounds with the room. There was only one last place to refresh herself of: her picture board. Slowly, she walked over to her bed and glanced at the pictures pinned above it. They were a collection of pictures from throughout her childhood up until last summer. A lot of them were of her and Alex. But a good amount of them also had TJ in them. She bit her lip as she reached for one of the pictures pinned showing its backside. When she turned it over, she saw the face that had been clouding her mind for the past two days.

It was her favourite picture of them. They were sitting on the beach, with his blanket wrapped around them after one of the first nights they had finally kissed. His wild black hair and gray eyes contrasted perfectly to her honey coloured hair and intense green ones. People had always told them they had looked like a perfect couple. Just remembering how safe she felt in his pictured embrace made her question her current attitude towards their status.

But she felt good knowing she’d at least explained herself better in the response to TJ’s letter. At least she had written him back. She’d probably beaten her owl here, come to think about it. Still biting her lip, she walked over to her window and peered out to the upper level of the house next door. She could just go talk to him- he was just right there…

No. She wasn’t back to this god awful household for her own sake- she was here on a mission. A Hermione mission.

She slipped the picture into her back pocket before turning around and going over to her jewellery box. She opened it and smiled faintly as the music started to play- it had been one of many of the great gifts she received from her father before he took off. It didn’t take her long to pick out what she was looking for since she could spot the emblem a mile away. It was even red and gold to match the house colour she and her kids were in. She pulled the necklace out and let it dangle in front of her so she could admire it appropriately.

Amia had been given her St. Christopher’s necklace a long time ago, before she first took up swimming in the ocean. St. Christopher was a muggle patriarch that represented courage. It is said that if you wear the necklace, you will also gain the courage of St. Christopher and protection from him whenever in deep waters.

Right now, she couldn’t think of a more courageous person than her Transfiguration professor. Hopefully she would like her birthday gift.

Mia didn’t linger long in her room. She pretty much closed her jewellery box and headed straight for the door. She didn’t hurry across the lawn to the nook by the pool like earlier, figuring there was no need to now since her mission was completed. But oh boy, had she been wrong.

Amia was walking innocently when suddenly a firm hand clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, young lady?” asked Kirsten Cooper in a very strained and clipped tone. Her glowing skin and perfectly shaped and coloured hair made it seem like she had just gotten back from the spa. It was quite comical to see it twisted into such an angry expression.

Mia didn’t feel like laughing at that moment though. She shrugged out of her mother’s iron clad grip, “This is my house too in case you’ve forgotten.”

“You’re supposed to be at school! What the hell are you doing in Newport Beach?!”

This time Mia did grin for her mother’s benefit, “It’s not school hours in England anymore.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kirsten screeched, growing more and more impatient.

“Exactly what it means. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“You’ve been kicked out again, haven’t you?” Kirsten burst, stopping Mia from leaving.

Amia rolled her eyes, “Wouldn’t that just be a dream come true.”

Kirsten scoffed, “I knew sending you to that place wasn’t going to do you any good. That man assured me it was a good school, but I knew right from the start that it wouldn’t sort you out. You couldn’t excel at anything even if you wanted to. If one school rejects you the others would be bound to follow- I always knew it. You think you can use your tricks and scheming to get you out of anything!”

Amia stood there silently staring into her mother’s fuming eyes. And this was exactly why she wanted nothing to do with her family. Because her family really wanted nothing to do with her.

“You have food in your teeth,” Amia muttered before disapparating right in front of Kirsten.

A second or two passed.

She blinked once before swiping her tongue repeatedly over her teeth.

---

I hoped you guys enjoyed this longer chapter and more of you can review because of it.

Next chapter: Hermione has a good birthday with her kids (all of them) and Amia convinces Rose to have a little fun. ;]

Until then, please leave a review on your way out!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 15: Strength for Your Courage

---

[AN] A longer chapter today, to make up for my absence.

---

Hermione looked up from her desk after hearing a fast knock on her door. She sighed and set her grading quill down, wondering who could be up this early on a Saturday. She started for her classroom door, her brows knitted together in curiosity.

Once she reached the door, she heard voices arguing lightly on the other side. She paused before throwing the door open in front of her.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Hermione couldn’t fight the enormous grin that spread over her face as she looked down at Rose and Hugo. Rose was holding a perfectly wrapped parcel and a small bag while Hugo was clinging on for dear life to a chocolate cake with the message ’Happy Birthday’ written in what looked like several different flavours of Bertie Bott’s every flavoured beans.

“You guys! What is this?”

“Are you surprised?” Hugo asked, taking a step forward.

“Definitely surprised. Did you make that yourself?”

“Well… no… but the Bertie Bott’s were my idea!” he said with renewed enthusiasm as he shoved the cake into his mother’s arms. Rose had been berating him the entire trip down to their mother’s office not to drop the cake. Hugo didn’t like the pressure, especially when it had to do with such a fine piece of food as a birthday cake. Now at least if it were to be dropped, it’d be his mother’s fault and not his.

“This is great, I love it. Thank you.”

Hugo gave his sister a smug look but Rose only rolled her eyes. She held up the small box and bag she was carrying, “We brought presents too.”

“And presents!”

“Yep- we went all out Mum,” Hugo said, grinning in a way that reminded her very much of Ron when he was a first year.

Hermione returned his grin with slightly trembling lips, “You shouldn’t have sweetheart…”

Over the past couple weeks, she’d been so busy and preoccupied with all things concerning Amia that she’d barely had any time left to pay attention to Rose or Hugo, or even herself. Her birthday came as a shock yesterday when she’d check the date to assign homework for her 3^rd years. The eighteenth of September had definitely crept up on her, leaving Hermione feeling silly for almost forgetting. She hadn’t even thought of other people realizing when she so clearly hadn’t.

But looking down into her children’s eyes now, both up early on a Saturday, intent on spending their weekend with her, she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional. Even though she had acted a step away from neglectful to her two kids these past couple weeks, they were still willing to be here for her on her birthday. And them being right in front of her made her realize how badly she didn’t want to miss a golden opportunity to spend time with them. The papers she had been meaning to grade for the past week could wait.

“But since you’re here, come on in.” Hermione couldn’t stop smiling as she ushered her two kids inside and closed the door behind them. With an excited air pulsing through all three of them, they made their way into Hermione’s quarters and took up seats on her bed. Hermione set the cake down on her bedside table before climbing onto the bed to join Rose and Hugo.

“Open mine first Mum!” Hugo said, grabbing the bag from Rose and again shoving it into his mother’s hands.

Hermione smiled in anticipation as she reached into the bag. She pushed past the tissue paper and her eyes lit up as her fingers brushed against a soft cotton material. She pulled out a long, thick scarf with the majestic Gryffindor maroon and gold emblazoned into the material. ‘GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH’ was written over the length of the scarf. Hermione looked up and grinned at her son.

“Finally something about quidditch I like.”

Hugo was all smiles. “I told you she would like mine,” he said nudging Rose.

“I never said she wouldn’t,” Rose muttered as she passed her present over to her mother. She was less anxious and more nervous as Hermione began to tentatively tear into the gold wrapping paper. Her present wasn’t anything original, but she hoped her mum liked it all the same.

Hermione smiled up at her daughter as she finally opened the box. Nestled inside was a thin silver wrist watch. It wasn’t anything elaborate or fancy, but that’s exactly why she liked it.

“This is great Rose. I need a new watch!”

“Really?” Rose asked unsurely.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Here, help me put it on,” she said as she gently pried it out of its box. Rose did as her mother asked and clasped the watch around her wrist, happy that she had picked out a good gift.

“I love both of my presents. Honestly, they’re amazing. Both things I will eagerly use. And eat,” she added, looking over to her birthday cake.

“Well we wanted to make this the best birthday. We know you’ve been kind of sad with everything-”

“Hugo!” Hermione exclaimed, interrupting her son mid-sentence.

“What?”

“You think I’ve been sad?”

Hugo shrugged, “Well yeah. I mean, you’re here now and Dad’s at home, and Rosie’s getting old and I’m becoming a man… it’s bound to be hard on you.”

Hermione paused for a moment. To hear her kids’ conclusion that she was sad because Ron wasn’t around was like rubbing salt in her already blazing wounds. How was she ever going to tell them about the divorce when that was their mentality? She could feel both Hugo’s and Rose’s studious stares and decided that now was not the best time to be thinking about that. Instead, she let a smile appear over her lips, “You’re right,” she acquiesced, “Watching my maturing boy and old woman growing up… it’s rough.”

Hugo grinned as Hermione chucked him under the chin with her finger. “See,” he shot back at Rose triumphantly.

Hermione laughed at the look on Rose’s face, “But having you two here makes me much, much happier.”

Before Rose or Hugo could react, Hermione pulled them both forward in a tight hug. She started pecking Hugo on the cheek repeatedly.

“Aw, Mum! Rose, get’eroff! Get’eroff!”

Rose and Hermione both laughed as Hugo broke free from his mother’s grip.

“I’m sorry love. I just can’t help myself sometimes. You’re so cute,” Hermione laughed, pinching one of his flaming red cheeks.

He quickly pushed her hand away, “Ugh, gross.”

“Would perhaps a small slice of my birthday cake make you feel better?” Hermione hedged, still on the verge of laughter.

Hugo contemplated only for a moment, “Yes…”

“Hmm… I have to decide first if it’s worth sharing. It looks soo good…”

“Mum…” Hugo groaned, also looking down to the birthday cake that James had graciously brought up from the kitchens late last night.

Hermione started chuckling lightly to herself again as she got up and headed over to retrieve some dishware she kept in a cabinet off in the corner of her room. While Hugo was busy salivating over the cake, Rose slipped off the bed and went to join her mum.

“Have you heard from Dad?” she asked quietly, helping Hermione take out three plates.

Hermione glanced at her before shaking her head, “No.”

“We sent him a letter telling him to come… but he didn’t respond.”

Hermione couldn’t help but think seeing Ron was the last thing she wanted. “Maybe there was some trouble delivering the letter.”

“You haven’t talked to him though?”

“I just said no Rose.”

“Oh… I just thought you guys would be keeping contact…”

“We do, baby. But you know your dad, he’s just been really busy with work. It’s an important time for the team.”

Rose frowned. She understood how her dad was with work, but he never had trouble missing their important days for it. “But it’s your birthday.”

Hermione gave her a comforting look as they started walking back towards the bed, dishes in hand, “Rose, it’s okay. It’s still early- maybe he just hasn’t left yet. And plus, we need time to get rid of this cake before he shows up…” Hermione trailed off, giving Hugo a conspiring look, “You know if he gets here and this magnificent cake is just sitting here, he’ll inhale it in one bite. We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Hugo nodded immediately, “That is such a good point, Mum. I think we should start now.”

“Hugo’s catching on.” Hermione said, giving her son a wink as she handed him a fork. She turned around and held up one for Rose.

“And you?”

Rose sighed as she shifted the plates to one arm and reached out with her other, “Sure,” she muttered, taking the fork.

Hermione touched her cheek, “That’s my girl.”

Rose watched her mum as she turned around and started to cut up the cake with her brother standing close behind her, laughing and joking with her. She couldn’t help but become more curious with her behaviour as of late. When they first arrived at Hogwarts, she was dead set on believing that her mum was having trouble adjusting and was acting so distracted because she missed her father. But now, she seemed perfectly happy. And though Rose was glad to see her mum acting happy again, she couldn’t help but think it was a bad sign since she was away from everything that did make her happy- everything, being her father. How could she be this happy now, but she’d never seen her this happy around her dad? For the longest time Rose had just wanted her parents to resolve their issues so that they could be happy… but maybe they had resolved their issues in a different way than Rose had hoped for.

…

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t believe you just got me out of detention. Single-handedly, too.”

Amia shrugged but shot a grin at Scorpius nonetheless, “Professor Longbottom really likes me. I’m not sure why- I’m shit at herbology.”

Scorpius laughed as they turned down a corridor. It was getting late on that Saturday afternoon so the halls were pretty empty, all of the students being busy elsewhere. “So what’d you pull me out for anyway?” Scorpius asked Mia.

Mia bit her lip as they continued walking in no particular direction. She hadn’t meant to pull Scorpius out of detention to take him somewhere, she just needed to have a few words with him.

“I have a favour to ask. Well, it’s not really a favour seeing as I’ll be doing you the favour in the end. It’s more of an invitation.”

“An invitation?” Scorpius asked, his interests peaked.

“Yeah.”

“For what?”

“Hogsmeade. Tonight. Bring a friend because I am too and I’d hate to be a third wheel.”

“Bring a friend?” the young Malfoy repeated, glancing at Amia with a coy smile, “What is going on? And how are we going to go to Hogsmeade if it’s not a school trip?”

“You leave all the worrying up to me and just invite a friend for tonight. Not one of your snobby ones either,” Mia clarified, giving him a teasing look.

Scorpius scoffed, “I don’t have snobby friends.”

Mia rolled her eyes, “My mistake. Bring a friend that doesn’t believe in bullshit and won’t have a problem hanging out with an American Gryffindor.”

“I can do that. Which friend are you bringing?” Scorpius questioned after realizing he hadn’t asked.

Amia paused for a second. She knew breaking this news to him was going to take a lot of convincing on her part. So she decided to start out with the pluses, only a little evasive, “Short. Fifth year. Red hair, has a cute little nose.”

Scorpius stopped dead in his tracks, “I’m not going.”

Mia fixed him with her most charming smile, “Please?”

“No.”

“Come on, do it for me.”

“I don’t fancy being glared at all night,” Scorpius argued, still shaking his head.

Mia sighed, “She doesn’t glare at you- Rose is the sweetest girl on the entire planet. Her eyes are incapable of glaring.”

Scorpius sent her an unbelieving look as Amia rethought that theory on her own. She bit her lip, “Well she won’t be glaring at you. Promise.”

“Does she know a Malfoy will be joining you on your illegal escapade to Hogsmeade?” he asked, deciding to turn the tables on her.

Mia rolled her eyes flippantly, “A little surprise will do her good in life.”

“She’s going to take one look at me and leave.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s how that girl always acts around me.”

“Look, whatever you think you know about my friend, forget it,” Amia said, the persuasion radiating out of her, “Once you properly meet her you’ll see how cool she is.”

This time it was Scorpius who rolled his eyes, “Sure she’s cool,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Watch it buddy,” Mia warned with a raised eyebrow.

Scorpius let out a sigh, giving Mia her signal of victory. “Alright, I’ll promise to behave,” the Slytherin muttered lowly.

Amia smiled vibrantly, triumph encasing her every emotion, “Good. See you tonight then.”

“See ya.”

…

Harry heard the telltale crack of another broken quill resonate in his quiet office. With a frustrated sigh, he threw his quill into the rubbish can next to him, not bothering to watch as it landed on the small stack of already fallen soldiers.

Silently, he reached into his drawer and mechanically withdrew another large eagle-feathered quill. They had been a gift from Ginny on his birthday, but now he was using them for another birthday’s purpose.

He gently dipped the quill in some ink before placing it down on the piece of parchment before him. His brows furrowed together as he thought desperately of what to write. He glanced back to the words he’d already managed.

‘Dear Hermione,

Happy Birthday.’

He closed his eyes and began scanning his brain of things to say that would neither mention nor ignore the things left unsaid between them.

‘I want to see more of you.’

‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’

‘I don’t want to be with Ginny anymore.’

No, none of those would do. He could talk about how stressed he’s been at work, but he didn’t want to burden Hermione with the trance cases and technically, he wasn’t supposed to tell any civilians. But if he couldn’t talk about work, and he couldn’t talk about how he really was feeling, then what was their left to talk about?

CRACK

Harry winced before angrily slinging the broken quill at the rubbish can. Had his grip really been that hard? Bloody hell, why was writing a letter to his best friend so difficult?

Because it was a letter to his best friend on her birthday. He immediately crumpled up the piece of parchment as soon as the thought had hit him. The letter had been such a stupid idea. What he really wanted to do was get her a gift and take it to her today, but he still wasn’t sure what was appropriate and what wasn’t between them. Were they on a gift-giving level?

His uncertainty had resulted in him being locked up in his office all day so far, trying to come up with ideas that would adequately express his wish for her to have a happy birthday. In short, he was going crazy as thoughts of her last birthday that they’d spent together kept cropping up into his head. Her nineteenth. It was the remembrance of this memory that was really doing him in.

*

“Nothing like good ice cream on a cold night,” Hermione said after taking a lick from her cone.

Harry grinned as he let them into their new flat. They had just returned from their first walk around the park across the street, “All you’re going to be doing is laying around this place eating ice cream all day. You’ve got a rough road ahead of you.”

“Hey!” Hermione cried out in indignation, “That’s not all I’ll be doing… I’ll probably get into watching some telly while I’m eating ice cream.”

Harry smirked, “I can tell already this ice cream phase is going to get out of hand. I might have to limit your cartons.”

“You’re going to ration my ice cream?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes as they walked into the kitchen.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her, “Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

A light glinted in his eyes before he started in on her. Not realizing what she was doing, Hermione slowly backed up into the wall as Harry came up to her, “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t think you’re capable of such evil,” she replied, though quickly getting lost in his glinting eyes.

“Really?” Harry asked lowly, his mouth barely a few inches from hers.

Hermione could barely nod, too busy getting ready for the kiss that she figured was about to happen, “Yeah, really.”

Harry made a sound in the back of his throat before glancing down to her ice cream. He took one look at her before leaning in and taking a fast bite.

“Harry Potter, you prat!” Hermione yelled.

Harry laughed loudly while Hermione glared and pushed him away. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said, still glaring.

“What, do you want it back?” Harry smirked, taking a step closer again.

“Yes!”

“Alright.” Before Hermione could let out another angry huff, Harry’s lips were on hers. Hermione opened her mouth for him and felt her spine prickle as Harry’s tongue gently grazed over hers. Hermione dropped her ice cream cone, bringing her hand up to infuse in Harry’s wild hair as their snogging intensified.

“The bedroom is already made up just so you know…” Harry mumbled in between a kiss.

“It is?” Hermione breathed back.

Harry nodded. His hands grazed down and dipped under the hem of her shirt before slowly rising up her smooth abdomen. Suddenly he stopped. “Is this okay?” he asked with a concerned look, “Like, it’s not going to mess anything up, right?”

Harry’s heart beat in relief as Hermione quickly shook her head, “No. No, this is… good…”

“Good,” Harry muttered before leaning back into her lips. They snogged for a few more moments before Harry reached down and carefully lifted Hermione off her feet. He brought her out from the kitchen and carried her down the hallway leading to their bedroom, the only room in the house that Harry had taken the time to furnish.

He set her down gently in the middle of the king sized bed before crawling on top to join her. His hands resumed their spot underneath her top, grazing over her stomach while her hands busied themselves with doing them same to him. Within the next breath, both of their shirts were lifted over their heads and thrown carelessly somewhere in the room.

Harry, feeling too impatient already, banished their jeans, leaving them only in their underwear before going back to her mouth. He put a little bit of his weight on her, knowing that she liked it, but not letting himself rest because he wasn’t sure if that would be good for the baby or not. Though, all rational thoughts went out the window as Hermione arched her back, pushing her waist into his. Harry let out a muffled groan in her mouth, causing her to suck harder on his lower lip before diving her tongue deep into him.

Harry felt something spark within him as he moved his hands down to push at her knickers. Hermione kicked them off before settling down so that Harry could finally move in on top of her. She let her hand flit over his hardening bulge once, giving a gentle squeeze, before trailing them both up over his back.

By that time, Harry was finding it difficult to keep pulling in steady, even breaths. He put his head in between her neck and shoulder and let his mouth suck lightly on the salty sweet skin he’d found there, as one hand deftly moved over and sunk a finger into her.

Hermione let out a gasp but closed her eyes and relaxed as Harry started to ready her. His mouth found its way to hers right as he pushed his boxers below his waist and came over Hermione hungrily.

Hermione’s eyes rolled back as Harry moved inside her. Back and forth, back and forth. They were both finding it difficult to not lose control. Hermione’s nails dug into his back and her eyes rolled back into her head as Harry continued to pump into her with a vigour she wasn’t used to. Harry let out a throaty groan as he continued his steadfast pace.

Before long, they were both reaching their climaxes and eventually they found themselves tangled up on their new bed.

Harry kissed the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest, “Happy Birthday ‘Mione.”

Hermione let a cheeky grin spread over her exhausted mouth, “Best birthday ever…” she mumbled sleepily.

Harry kissed her again, “I’m going to make every birthday from this point on the best for you- I promise.”

“Can’t wait,” was Hermione’s reply.

*

Harry scrubbed his hands over his face as he straightened up in his chair. Yes, the letter had indeed been a shit idea. But now, especially after such a vivid flashback, he couldn’t help the burning desire to go to her, despite all of his uncertainties before. Even if it was only to say happy birthday, he needed to see her. He couldn’t help it; he just had to see her.”

…

Hermione turned amongst the rows of desks as she heard a slight knock before the sound of her classroom door opening. She briefly wondered if Rose or Hugo had left something here but surprisingly enough found Amia shutting the door and turning to look at her. She grinned, “Hey Mia. You alright?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to stop by and say happy birthday,” Mia said, coming forward.

Hermione let a surprised, but flattered smile rise on her face, “Thank you. I hope Rose didn’t reveal my real age to you…”

She shrugged, “Thirty-six isn’t that old. Thirty-seven- now that’s old.”

Hermione glared playfully as Amia laughed and pulled out a small box from the pocket of her hoodie.

“Very funny,” Hermione grumbled, her eyes now on the box, “What’s that?”

“Your present.”

“You got me a present?”

Mia nodded and handed the box to her, “It is your birthday. Go on, open it.”

“Mia…” Hermione breathed as she tore the wrapping paper off and opened the small box. She pulled out a long gold chain and couldn‘t stop her moth from falling open as she stared at the shining little medallion at the end, reflecting beautiful crimson and gold colours.

“It’s a St. Christopher necklace,” Amia explained as Hermione brought the charm up for closer inspection, “Supposed to give someone strength and safety in return for their courage. My Dad gave it to me when I was little, before I started swimming in the ocean on my own.”

“You’re giving this to me?” Hermione asked quietly, knowing exactly what Mia figured she needed it for.

“Yeah- figured you could use it.”

Hermione didn’t think twice before pulling the girl into a tight hug. She was so thoughtful and sweet… just like her father.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, kissing her cheek before pulling away.

Amia smiled, “Your welcome. It’s kept me safe up until now so I’m pretty sure it works.”

“Prone to danger, are we?” Hermione asked wryly, lifting an eyebrow.

Amia tweaked an eyebrow herself, “Danger is my middle name.”

“Shea is your middle name.”

“Shea’s Irish for danger.”

Hermione gave her a watery look to go along with her soft smile, “No it’s not.”

“Do you know everything? I’m starting to think you do,” Mia joked.

Hermione shook her head, “No, not everything. I don’t have the wherewithal for everything.”

Amia grinned, “You got any birthday celebrations planned for tonight?”

“No. I started getting boring once I turned thirty,” Hermione replied, again shaking her head.

“Well supposedly forty is the new twenty, so I guess that makes you like eighteen.”

“Eighteen,” Hermione repeated, letting her mind reminisce for a few moments, “now that was a good year. What about you- any parties I should know to break up later?”

Amia faked a sigh, “Hermione if you want to come to one of my parties, just say so.”

“So bad it hurts.”

Mia laughed, “Alright, next time there’s a party I’ll make sure to throw an invitation your way. Tonight though, I think we just have a quiet night planned. I’m pretty sure Rose wants to try and teach me some History of Magic lessons which means I’m going to bed early.”

“Oooh, History of Magic. Don’t let her corner you because she’ll be talking all night.”

Mia raised an eyebrow, “I know she gets it from you.”

“Yeah…” Hermione admitted guiltily, “unfortunately my friends never got the warning I’m now giving you.”

“That’s my cue to go take a sleeping draught. You’ll be alright tonight?”

Hermione looked at her with soft eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Happy Birthday, Hermione. I hope it’ll been a memorable one.”

“Thank you Mia,” Hermione said in an almost whisper as the girl smiled one last time before taking her exit.

Hermione looked back down at the necklace as Amia left. It was nothing less of beautiful that Amia came to wish her a happy birthday, and to give her a present like this was exceptionally nice. All she could’ve ever asked for on her birthday was to spend time with her children, and because of Amia’s thoughtfulness, she had now done that. Just like icing on the cake. Hermione wondered if the girl truly had any idea how much of an impact she had on her.

…

“No one’s here Rose. You can come out now.”

“Are you sure? Maybe we should wait a few more minutes just in case.”

Amia rolled her eyes impatiently and looked up the dark spiral staircase leading to the girls’ dorms one more time, “Rose, nobody has gone in or out in the past ten minutes. Everyone’s already gone off to bed. Now come out, or I’m getting you out of this common room with force.”

A sceptical sound resonated from the top of the staircase, “If everyone’s already gone off to bed, then maybe we should too-”

“Rose!”

“Fine…”

It was a few moments before Amia could here footfalls on the stairs. Slowly, Rose descended the steps in a short dress and flats. It was nothing too posh, but nothing Rose had ever worn before.

Mia grinned, smoothing down a strap of her own short dress, “Very nice. Now we only have seven more floors to go. Come on.”

“Amia where are we going?” Rose practically moaned as Amia headed over to the portrait hole.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” she answered simply.

“Okay, but where are we going in this school that would require dresses like these?”

“Again, it’s a surprise and stop pulling it down!”

“This was a bad idea,” Rose muttered as the stepped out into the chilly corridor.

Mia shot her a grin, “You have little faith Rose Weasley.”

“And it’s already so late! If we get caught we’re both screwed! I could lose my prefect-”

Amia suddenly spun around and pressed a finger to her lips, “You’re not losing anything because we’re not getting caught. Now calm down and accept the fact that you are coming with me and having a great time tonight. Alright? Chill.”

Rose took a deep breath before nodding, “Fine. Chill.”

“Chill is your mantra- now let’s go! People are waiting on us.”

“Other people are coming?!”

…

About five minutes later, they had successfully made it down to the Great Hall. Amia could see the boys sitting down the hall. She chanced a glance over her shoulder to see how her friend was doing trailing shyly behind her.

“Remember, chill out,” she advised.

Rose nodded anxiously, “Chill, chill, chill, chill…”

“Hey boys,” Mia greeted, finally coming up to them, “Don’t you both look quite snazzy.” Rose peered out from Mia’s shoulders but could only see one of the two boys Amia was talking to. Her eyes bulged as she recognized the one boy as a Slytherin.

“Snazzy?” repeated the tall, tan boy. His voice had traces of an accent, “Is that some American term or a Gryffindor term that I’ve never heard or cared to have heard before?”

“It’s American but given the likes of you I can see why you’ve never heard of it before. Honestly, take the compliment.”

The boy grinned, “Sassy. They teach you that one over there too?”

“I’m pretty sure it originated right here,” Amia said, tapping her head lightly.

Two boys laughed in response. Rose was starting to get confused over where the other person was, why they were meeting up with Slytherins, and still the all-mysterious ‘where are we going’. Her eyes snapped up to watch Mia though as the older girl turned to look at an inlet on the right of the corridor.

“Alright?”

“Alright,” came a voice from the stairs. Rose drew in a sharp breath as Scorpius Malfoy stepped down into the hallway.

Mia grinned, “Good. Introductions then, Scorpius meet Rose. Rose this is Scorpius.”

His gray, stormy eyes flittered over to her brown ones, glowing with nerves. It was a couple seconds before he nodded at her, “Nice to meet you.”

“Abublahboo…”

Amia sighed, shooting Rose an exasperated look while Scorpius looked at her with a kind of affronted expression. Rose’s cheeks flared as she tore her eyes away from the both of them.

“Right, and that’s Lorenzo,” Amia finished nodding off to the other boy. She gave him the sweetest fake smile she could muster, “He’s Italian and he thinks he’s the greatest person in this world.”

Lorenzo smirked, “You’re catching on.”

“’Think’ being the operating word Mr. Italy.”

“So how are we going?” Scorpius asked, bringing the group back to the task at hand.

“I know a short-cut,” Mia said, motioning for them all to follow her.

Lorenzo smirked again as they started walking, “You’ve been at this school a couple weeks and you think you know a short-cut? I’m going to enjoy this…”

“And I’m going to enjoy making you eat your words. Shall we?” Mia asked sweetly, starting her ascent up the grand staircase.

Lorenzo followed her on and came up to her side to continue their conversation. Rose and Scorpius moved to step on the stairs at the same time, causing them to bump sides. They both stiffened and withdrew their footing.

“Sorry,” Rose mumbled, looking down to her flats. Scorpius motioned for her to go but she shook her head, “Oh no, you go first.”

Rose was just glancing down to her feet again when she felt a hand at the small of her back, propelling her up onto the first step. She glanced back and saw Scorpius following closely behind her. She felt every slight increase of her heartbeat as she could still feel Scorpius’s hand the entire journey up to the third floor.

…

Hermione was startled to hear the knock at her door. It was pretty late; she couldn’t think of anyone that would stop by at this hour. Still though, she put her night robe over her pyjamas and went to go see who it was.

“Harry?”

“Hey Hermione,” Harry greeted from the other side of the door. Hermione immediately noticed he looked kind of a mess, clearly exhausted and stressed out. She frowned wondering why he looked so dishevelled.

“I’m sorry for showing up so late.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

Harry was silent for a second before he took a deep breath, “I didn’t want you to be alone on your birthday night. Can I come in?”

Hermione didn’t move for what seemed like forever. Harry’s questioning green eyes never wavered from hers. It felt like he was holding her in a trance. She didn’t want to look away from him for the life of her but knew how silly she must’ve seemed. Finally, after taking little time to consider that this probably wasn’t such a good idea, she nodded, “Um, yeah. Come in.”

Harry smiled lightly and took a step forward. “Happy Birthday,” he said, gently kissing her cheek before moving past her into the classroom.

Hermione froze as his lips left her cheek and he walked past her. She closed her eyes for a second, thinking about the significance of Amia’s gift before opening them again. With little strength, she closed the door.

---

Next chapter: Hogwarts has a break-in and Harry meets his daughter for the very first time.

REVIEW!

Disclaimer: JKR owns.

Lost Daughter

Chapter 16: Close Calls and First Sights

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[AN] Long chapter. Just putting all my ducks in a row…

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“I’m sorry to just show up,” Harry said as he walked into Hermione’s classroom, “Were you about to go to bed?”

Hermione looked down at her sleep clothes, “Oh, no. I-I just figured I’d change.”

“Oh.”

The two were quiet for a moment, both avoiding each other’s eyes at all cost. After a few moments Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly, “Um, do you want to sit?”

Harry let out a laugh looking at the desk, “Sure Professor. I apologize for not being in uniform,” he joked, going to sit down at the desk.

Hermione grinned, “You forgot your books as well. That’s not a good way to impress a new professor.”

“I’ll be sure not to forget anything next time.”

Hermione noted his implication of next time with a slight flutter of her heart as she sat down next to him. Silence engulfed the two yet again.

“So how was your day?” Harry asked, deciding to break the ice.

“Good. Rose and Hugo came and surprised me in the morning with presents and a birthday cake.”

“Did you hear from Ron at all?” He knew that this was technically none of his business, but he was curious.

Hermione shook her head, “Rose said she wrote him but he never showed. Fine by me.”

“So this divorce is real then?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, shaking his head defensively, “Just that… you’re taking all this on by yourself. It’s quite brave of you.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Without realizing she was doing so, her hand reached up to the necklace Amia had given her earlier. She completely believed in what Mia told her about the gift; taking the step to file for divorce already made Hermione feel stronger.

Harry noticed her toying with the jewellery, “That‘s a nice necklace. Is it new?”

“Oh, yeah. Mia gave it to me.”

Harry look surprised, “She gave you that?”

“Yes. It was a huge surprise; I didn’t even tell her it was my birthday.”

“She gave you a gift though. That must mean a lot,” Harry said. He was amazed at how close the two of them had seemed to have gotten after only such a short period of time. He didn’t want to mention it to Hermione though; he didn’t want her to know he was jealous…

A faraway smile spread easily over Hermione’s face, “She’s very thoughtful. I think I’m really starting to get through to her. The other day we had a nice chat about relationships. She’s even given me advice on Ron and how to tell the kids since she’s a child of divorce as well.”

“She knows about you divorcing Ron?” Harry asked, shock laced in his tone.

Hermione nodded, “Yeah, I figured I should explain a little after he barged in the other day.”

“Wow,” Harry muttered, turning to look off into the classroom, “You two really are hitting it off, huh?”

Hermione didn’t notice the look of longing on Harry’s face, “Yeah. It’s funny how life can surprise you, sometimes when you’re least expecting it.”

Harry nodded jerkily, “Yeah… I um, got you something as well.”

Quietly, he placed a small square case in front of Hermione. Something about the maroon case looked familiar to her.

“Harry, you didn’t have to buy me anything,” she said, her stomach doing back flips as she took the small box in her hand.

“I didn’t buy it. Well I did, but that was a long time ago…”

“What?” Hermione asked confused.

He smiled, “Just open it.”

Hermione stared down at the case for another few seconds before prying it open with her fingertips. A gasp escaped her as she saw the object nestled inside, “Oh my god… Harry, where did you find this? I thought I’d lost it forever!”

With the gentlest touch, she reached in and picked up her old crystal bracelet. She delicately touched the two angel wings guarding the little onyx stone in between them. She brushed her thumb over the ‘Hope’ engraved on the stone. Tears pooled in her eyes as she remembered Harry giving the bracelet to her on her 19^th birthday and all of the fond memories that had followed. This bracelet had been with her through the best times of her life. She had been devastated when she thought she’d lost it, but here Harry was, like her knight in shining armour presenting it to her again. It was a silly muggle metaphor, she knew, but that’s how he seemed to her right now. Especially as he flashed her his most charming, lop-sided smile.

“I went back to the old flat and found it,” he revealed.

Hermione gasped again, “You went back to our old flat?”

“Yeah. I go to Boston everyone in a while and stop in. Then I remembered the bracelet at work today and I figured I’d go.”

Hermione’s mouth hung open for a few seconds as she tried to wrap her brain around what he’d just said, “I-I’ve never even given any thought to what would happen to it… all of our stuff…”

He shrugged, “Everything’s still there. Exactly how we left it.”

“You… you don’t have… trouble… being there?”

Harry was quiet for a few moments and for a brief second Hermione thought maybe she’d overstepped her bounds. Maybe they weren’t ready to talk about all that just yet… But then, Harry shrugged lightly again.

“I did a lot when I first started going, but that was back when we first split up…”

Hermione averted her eyes from his at the mention of their split.

“But now, ironically enough, I feel like it’s my sort of sanctuary.”

“How soon did you go back?” Hermione whispered a few moments later after debating with herself over whether or not she should ask.

Harry looked at her, “That was the first place I went after Los Angeles.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Hermione didn’t have to ask why, “You were waiting for them weren’t you?”

Harry looked to her again, letting her know the answer by the depth of his stare. She inhaled sharply and turned away from his burning gaze.

Harry put a hand on hers, “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do want to. I feel like a proper idiot that I’ve never cared to ask you what you did when we separated. I mean, I cared it’s just…”

“We were trying to move on,” Harry answered for her, rather dully.

Hermione bit her lip, “Right.”

Another silence rolled through the classroom. It was neither tense nor uncomfortable, however both could tell they were avoiding the things that they really wanted to say. The practice of self control was something that they’d both mastered over the years…

Harry was the first to break the silence, but only because he couldn’t not. The feeling of her hands still resting softly under his was doing things to him, and while he’d rather be crucio’d then move his hand, he didn’t want to get lost in the feeling of her skin under his again. With that thought in mind, he spoke,

“Did you ever think seventeen years ago that this is where we’d end up?”

“I did a lot of imagining back then, but this never made it in the group of possibilities,” Hermione said quietly with a shake of her head.

She paused before looking down to her new watch. She smiled as she read the time, “Seventeen years ago… we were just about to go tour the Boston flat.”

Harry nodded, thinking back yet again to her 19^th birthday, “Yeah… and I had just gotten suspended from the auror program.”

“And we had both just found out about Mia.”

Harry shook his head, “Even though I’d just lost Teddy, I can still remember exactly how excited I felt over you being pregnant.”

Hermione’s smile trembled as her hand ran down her stomach, “I remember too.”

Both of their minds slowly drifted back to how they celebrated their excitement on her birthday night. Harry squeezed her hand softly.

“Merlin… we were only kids back then.”

She let out a fond breath, “Yeah…”

“Hard to imagine all the stuff we went through happening to other kids that age now,” Harry said, thinking of James being only a few years older and having to deal with new fatherhood. The thought was so unrealistic he could hardly imagine it.

“Well, I couldn’t have done half the things I did without you,” Hermione said, nudging his arm.

Harry smirked, “Let’s rephrase that: you couldn’t have done half the things you did if it weren’t for me.”

She grinned, “You did get me into quite a bit of trouble.”

“I’ll say.”

She laughed lightly as her thumb swiped over her bracelet still in her hand. She handed it out to Harry, “Will you put it on me?”

“Sure.”

“I always loved this you know,” she revealed as he draped it over her bare wrist, “Before this I never liked jewellery.”

He felt something like sunshine burst in his chest and spread throughout his entire body. “I’m glad,” he said, trying to keep his smile under control.

When he looked up at her, finished with her bracelet, he found her to be smiling just as exuberantly. His light smile turned into a radiant grin at the sight of her, and they sat there for a few seconds basking in the surprise package of bliss.

After a second though, Hermione’s teeth came over to clamp down on her lip. Harry felt his leg twitch so he forced himself to look away as she asked, “Are you thirsty? Neville brought by some wine earlier.”

Harry took in a quick breath and nodded, “Wine sounds good.”

Hermione pushed her chair back and stood, “I’m pretty sure I have some glasses but

if not I can transfigure some,” she said, starting to stride off to her personal quarters.

“Okay,” Harry agreed, still sitting at the desk. He took a second there, gulping and barraging himself to calm down. She was so close and his body was clearly starting to react. He didn’t know what good or bad her personal quarters and a bottle of wine would do, but he didn’t want to leave just yet. He couldn’t leave now.

He paused for one more second before getting up from the desk and following her further off into the room.

…

Rose had no idea where they were walking to. She hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings ever since they met up with the two Slytherins. She’d barely taken to the surprise that hit her as they made their way down a narrow passageway that a statue of a one-eyed witch had been covering. She’d heard her cousin talk about the secret passage into Hogsmeade, but had never cared to check it out herself.

The rest of the walk down the passage, and coming out of Honeydukes into Hogsmeade meant little to her. She couldn’t even have told you how long the walk took. All she had been concerned with was the boy walking closely behind her. He had removed his hand from its place on her back when they first climbed down the passage but he hadn’t put any distance between them.

Rose’s mind was in a tizzy. Why had Amia invited Scorpius? What was she hoping to get out of tonight? She didn’t think her new friend was trying to embarrass her or anything, but she couldn’t think of a proper explanation as to why this would make her let loose. Scorpius Malfoy being there and hanging around her was only going to make her tense, awkward, and nervous the entire night. And when Rose saw the building they were approaching, it only made another wave of unease wash over her.

Ministry of Sound was the popular night club in Hogsmeade. Rose had never stepped foot in the place but she’d heard her older cousin Victoire gossip about it. Rose seemed to be the only unsure one in the group as they approached the entrance.

Amia didn’t stop at the end of the queue however, and continued walking up until she reached the front entryway. Even though she was the newest one to the town and had never been to the club before, she stopped in front of the bouncer with an air of total calm and confidence.

“Hey, I know you work here and everything, but I was wondering if I could ask your opinion on something?” she spoke, sounding like she had said the same line a thousand times before.

The large muscled bouncer gave her a once-over before grinning, “Sure sweetheart.”

Amia went on, twisting her hands innocently in front of her, “I’m new to English clubs, so I was wondering is this one better or that place down in the lower lanes? This one has a longer queue, that’s for sure.”

The bouncer flashed her a smug look, “I guarantee you will have nothing but an outrageous night here.”

“Yeah? The line is really long though…”

The bloke winked at her, “I can help you with that.” Almost as if the bouncer was under Amia’s spell, he lifted the rope and stood back so that she could pass.

Mia smiled winningly, “Thanks Gerard.”

“Anything for such a beautiful woman.”

Rose watched in awe as Amia stepped through easily and started into the club. Lorenzo followed behind her. Rose was next but right as she was about to pass the rope, the bouncer put a hand up.

“How old are you?”

Rose froze. She opened her mouth and struggled to formulate an answer.

The bouncer immediately saw through her hesitancy, “No students allowed-”

“She’s with me,” Scorpius said, stepping forward. Rose felt his shoulder bump into hers and his warm hand reach down to take hers.

The guard glanced sceptically down to their intertwined hands, “She’s with you?”

“Yes,” Scorpius repeated in a firmer tone.

The bouncer looked up to the boy before shrugging, “No problem then. Have a nice night Mr. Malfoy.”

“Cheers.”

Rose was lost as Scorpius tugged her forward. What was that about? Had Scorpius been there before? But if he had, wouldn’t the bouncer know that he was a student too?

Just as she felt herself beginning to breach more theories, she told herself to forget about it. Amia came up grinning and with Scorpius’s hand still in hers, it was hard not to smile back.

“Let’s go get drinks!” Amia yelled over the loud music pulsing through the entry room.

“You think you can lure the bartender into getting us free drinks as well?” Lorenzo asked with a snaky tone.

Mia raised an eyebrow, “Jealous much?”

“If I was an attractive young American, I’d be getting let into clubs for free too!”

Amia rolled her eyes, “Talk, talk, talk. Why don’t you come buy me a drink so everything you’re saying can become more interesting.”

Rose and Scorpius couldn’t help but laugh while Lorenzo obviously reddened and stuck his tongue out at Mia. She nudged the boy playfully before heading down the spiral staircase leading to the dance floor and bar.

Lorenzo and Mia stopped at a free spot at the bar. Rose slid up next to Mia but then frowned as she felt Scorpius’s hand pull away from hers. She became confused as she glanced back and watched him walk further down the bar.

She turned back to the bar shyly, letting her eyes dance over all the different vibrant bottles of alcohol. She took in an apprehensive breath.

“What do you want?” asked Mia, leaning close to Rose so that she wouldn’t have to shout.

Rose bit her lip as her brain scrambled for any idea of what to order. After a couple moments, she came up empty handed. She shrugged helplessly, “I don’t know. I’ve never drank before. I don’t even know what there is to order.”

Amia senses that the redhead was feeling a little overwhelmed. She put her arm around her hoping to calm her nerves, “Look, I’m not going to make you drink if you don’t want to. Just get a soda or something,” she advised soothingly.

Rose nodded, “Okay…”

“You know not to take anything from random guys, right?” Mia asked her again, this time her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Rose nodded, trying to hide her smile. The look Mia was giving her reminded her a lot of her mum. Rose looked back to the bottles as Mia flagged down the bartender and ordered. Maybe she could get away with just water…

Mia took an exploratory sip of her drink as the attractive bartender gave it to her with a wink. She looked around, checking on the whereabouts of someone before she turned back to Rose, “I’m going to dance. Smile. You’re having fun!”

“Mia-” Rose tried as her friend slipped easily into the crowd behind them. She stopped short when she saw Scorpius siding up to her.

He handed her a glass of brown liquid, “Here, I got this for you.”

“Oh…” Rose took it, her mind automatically jumping back to the advice Mia had just given her about taking drinks from blokes.

“It’s rum and coke,” Scorpius told her, taking a sip from his own drink. He had a glass of amber liquid with a few ice cubes in it. “Very muggle. I figured you wouldn’t know what to order.”

Rose flushed, “Oh… thanks…”

Scorpius paused at the look on her face. He quickly realized that she thought he‘d criticized her. “Not like that,” he amended, “It just doesn’t seem like you’re a big drinker.”

“I’m not,” Rose told him with a shake of her head. She was staring intently at her drink, feeling too unworthy to meet his eyes.

“I figured.” Scorpius took another swig.

Rose was suddenly compelled to prove that she could at least drink. She took a long pull from the alcohol-mixed soda and squinted as it rolled down her throat. She swallowed harshly and wiped her tongue over her lips before willing together the confidence to look up at him, “Are you?”

The blonde frowned, “What?”

She leaned in closer so he could hear, “Um, do you drink a lot?”

“During the summer, sure.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Scorpius faltered and hurried to rectify himself, “That’s not all I do during the summer. Just occasionally.”

Rose nodded mechanically before raising her glass to her lips again. Scorpius turned away, his cheeks burning red. He cursed himself mentally for caring about what she thought of him and slipping up in front of her. He let out a frustrated breath before masking his face again and turning back to her.

“I’m sure it’s easy for you to get alcohol,” Rose said, trying to be conversational.

Scorpius frowned, “What makes you say that?”

Rose lost herself with the look he gave her, “Uh, just that you have a lot of money…”

He didn’t say anything in response that time. Just stared at her frowning.

“I mean, if you wanted to you could probably just ask. I’m sure no one would say no to you…” Rose could feel the heat stinging her cheeks as Scorpius continued to stare at her. She sighed in humiliation and shook her head, “I’m sorry,” she muttered hopelessly, “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Scorpius sucked in a breath before leaning into her ear, “You need to relax. We’re not in school right now, have a little fun.”

“Fun,” Rose repeated sardonically, “Right, I’m working on it.”

“This isn’t your idea of fun?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been to a place like this before,” Rose admitted, taking a glance behind her. The music was still loud, filling every part of the club. Lights were flashing out on the dance floor making the crowd of bodies visible. Rose briefly wondered where Mia was out there and if she was having a good time. If this was Mia’s idea of fun then surely it couldn’t be so bad.

“This place is shit compared to some places in London,” Scorpius told her after she turned back.

Rose looked at him, “Oh.”

Scorpius sighed as Rose turned back away from him. He wondered if she thought he was a git for acting too pretentious. Serves him right for trying to impress a Weasley.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he told her before quickly taking off to the other side of the bar.

“Okay,” Rose answered, but the Malfoy was already making his way through the throng of people. She sighed to herself as the song changed into an upbeat tempo. She turned, figuring she’d try and look for Mia again. Honestly, she appreciated her friends attempt but it seemed like tonight was not going to work out for her. Maybe Rose just wasn’t cut out for being spontaneous and fun. She couldn’t even get a guy that Mia had obviously bribed to stay interested in her. She briefly wondered if Scorpius was so uninterested in her because she was simply boring and plain looking, or if it had more to do with her being a Weasley.

“Excuse me.”

Rose turned around as someone tapped her on the shoulder. A decent looking bloke was standing behind her, smiling at her.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but was that bloke here a moment ago your boyfriend?”

Rose frowns at his question but then realized he must‘ve been referring to Scorpius. “Oh, no. He’s not,” she told him with a shake of her head.

The bloke grinned and inched a bit closer, “That’s good for me then.”

Rose frowned and tilted her head, genuinely confused, “What?”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“I already have one.” Rose took a drink to prove her statement.

The bloke snorted, “Can I get you a real drink?”

Rose looked at him. Was this not a real drink? “Uh… okay…”

“I’m Connor,” he said next with a bright smile, holding out his hand.

“I’m-”

“Taken. Let’s go dance.”

Rose didn’t even have time to think as an hand slid down her arm and fastened to her hand. Next thing she knew, Scorpius was in front of them, leading them through the crowd towards the dance floor. She didn’t want to look back just in case she found that Connor bloke glaring, or coming after them.

After they walked down some stairs, Scorpius turned around suddenly, making Rose walk into him. She apologized quickly at Scorpius’s intense look, but he seemed to be staring at her for another reason.

“Look if you want to go back and talk to that bloke, you can. I guarantee you though, he’s only trying to bed you.”

Rose frowned, “No! I-I don’t want to go back.”

Scorpius’s posture seemed to relax. Gently, he pulled her closer to him, “Let’s dance then.”

Rose looked around awkwardly, her lip clamped between her teeth. “I-I’ve never danced before…”

“You’ve never done a lot of things,” Scorpius replied.

Rose blushed but was sidetracked as Scorpius yet again grabbed her. “Just move,” he instructed, still drawing her in.

Rose’s breath hitched as she felt her waist come against his. “Okay…” she mumbled as Scorpius began synchronizing her movements with his.

It wasn’t long before Rose and Scorpius, both reeling from the close proximity of each other, were moving freely with the rhythm.

…

Harry grinned in delight as he took another drink of wine while Hermione laughed loudly.

“That night was awful,” he continued after his drink, “I don’t think I’ve danced since.”

Hermione laughed again, shaking her head, “Oh it wasn’t so horrible.”

“You only say that because you went with a quidditch star and ended up snogging him at the end of the night,” Harry jabbed.

Hermione blushed, smiling sheepishly, “Well yeah, but that’s not the only reason I have fond memories of the Yule Ball.”

Harry rested his head back against the wall as he thought back to that night. “That was the first night we both realized how beautiful you were. I think we both felt like daft gits knowing that Krum realized it first,” he admitted, a nostalgic smile on his lips.

She gave him a soft smile before taking another drink.

“You and your affection for quidditch players…” Harry teased after a comfortable pause.

Hermione laughed into her drink. She nudged him, “Shut up.”

“History doesn’t lie…” he muttered, watching as Hermione looked away and grinned guiltily.

He watched her for a few moments out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t seen her this carefree and happy in a long time. The sight of her caused a rush of adrenaline to shoot through him, like it always did when he saw her smile because of him.

“Do you think it’s weird that we keep seeing each other like this?” he asked nervously a couple of moments later. The question left his mouth before he could give it careful consideration.

To his great relief, Hermione answered quickly, “No. I like being able to talk to you.”

“I do too.”

“To be quite honest, I’ve really missed this. Thanks for coming by.”

Harry looked down to her wrist where she was playing lightly with the bracelet. He smiled, “Well it’s your birthday, I wanted to see you.”

“It’s sweet of you,” Hermione said, looking up to him.

Harry got caught up in her eyes for a brief moment, but quickly calmed himself, “More wine?” he asked, running through his words.

Hermione nodded slowly, “Okay…”

Harry was picked up the bottle and began pouring the fine liquid into Hermione’s cup. He was just finishing it off when suddenly there was startling BOOM.

The entire room lurched. Harry felt wine soak into his shirt as he jumped up. The windows rattled in their windowpanes as the BOOM shook the entire castle.

“What the hell was that?” Hermione asked, standing up in shock.

Harry pulled out his wand, “I don’t know…”

Hermione reached for wand on the table top. They both looked around searchingly for a moment before the walls shook with another BOOM. It was stronger the second time around; both Harry and Hermione had to take a step back to steady themselves. Once the floor was still once more, Harry rushed to the window and looked down towards the grounds.

“Harry?” Hermione called out worriedly as a quicker BANG reverberated around them.

Harry pushed away from the window and started for the door, “I think someone’s trying to break in. Stay here.”

Hermione didn’t think twice before she ran after him, “Harry wait!”

…

Rose and Scorpius danced for a good while before they bumped into Mia dancing with another guy, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Mia let out a joyous yelp as she saw her friends and lurched forward to wrap her arms around them,

“Let’s go get more drinks!” she suggested excitedly, flashing a grin at the bloke she’d been dancing with before leading them back in the direction of the bar. There, they found Lorenzo already working down his sixth or seventh drink.

After they all received a new drink, they headed over to a booth to relax for a few minutes. They were there for about ten minutes, laughing and having a rather good time before several lights turned on, illuminating the club.

“It’s closing already?” Mia asked with a sad groan.

“Back to Hoggy-warty-Hogwarts for us!” Lorenzo shouted, raising his cup into the air.

Scorpius laughed, “You shouldn’t have let him drink so much, Mia.” He and Rose were sitting together on one side of the booth. Scorpius seemed perfectly at ease but Rose was reeling as she sat so close to the boy she’d always dreamt about. She kept taking little sips from her drink, hoping that her mind would get the picture and calm down. If Scorpius was so calm then she would be too.

Mia rolled her eyes as she looked from Scorpius to Lorenzo sprawled out in the seat next to her, “Well now I know Italians aren’t known for their drinking.”

“Hey!” the other Slytherin boy yelled out, “It’s ‘cause pasta and beer don’t mix.”

They all laughed as Mia pushed him out of the booth, “We’ll take your word for it. Now let’s go.”

They had just started heading for the exit when Lorenzo yelled out again, “Shit! I lost my coat.”

Mia stopped and gave him an annoyed look, “Ugh, let’s go look for it. We’ll meet you guys outside.”

“Alright,” Scorpius replied as Mia grabbed Lorenzo and headed back towards the dance floor. Rose saw him reach for her hand again and lifted it to meet his reach halfway. His eyes shot down to hers, making her blush under his gaze.

The two were pushed from behind by others trying to escape the club. Scorpius tightened his grip on her before leading her outside into the street. The night was a little chilly, but Rose was able to forget about the cold because of Scorpius’s warm hold on her.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Scorpius asked her, his tone much lower now that he didn’t have to shout over music.

Rose smiled, “Yeah. I had a great time! Did you?”

Scorpius grinned, “It was alright.”

Rose blushed yet again as she felt her knees tremble. She had seen that grin before but it was the first time being directing at her.

While Rose was lost in thought, Scorpius glanced behind her, noticing a group of blokes staring at them.

“You sure do attract quite the crowd Weasley,” he drawled, not looking away from them.

“Huh?”

Rose turned around and saw the group he was looking at. “Oh. That was the guy from earlier. I wish he’d stop staring at me,” she muttered innocently, turning back to face him.

“Is he making you uncomfortable?” Scorpius asked her quietly.

She looked up at him and saw him staring at her intensely. She shifted under his gaze, feeling her heartbeat pick up, “Sorta.”

“Well there’s only two things you can do…”

“Like what?”

Scorpius took a step closer, his tone lowering, “You could shout at the tosser to go stare at someone else’s bum.”

Rose laughed, “Or?”

“Or…” There was a brief pause in which Rose swore that time stopped and the street became serenely quiet. She didn’t detect Scorpius leaning in, and therefore explained why her eyes snapped open in utter surprise as his lips touched hers.

Her eyes stayed open for only a second before she slammed them shut. Whether she was imagining this kiss or not, she refused to stand there like some immature wide-eyed little girl, as if she had no idea what to do. She had no idea what to do, but she couldn’t fight the urge to do something back as Scorpius moved his lips against her.

She pressed her lips gently back into his and relaxed her mouth as she felt him suck lightly at her lower lip. She didn’t realize her vigour strengthen as his arms encircled her waist.

They finished with a long, drawn out kiss before Scorpius pulled away and looked at her. “Or you could send the message that your with someone else,” he finished, staring intently into her eyes.

Rose didn’t notice his look though because her eyes were glued to his lips. Her gaze never faltered as she sucked in a breath through her open mouth, “I-I don’t like confrontation…”

Scorpius touched his forehead to hers. “I didn’t think so,” he muttered before his lips dipped down to hers.

Rose felt like there was an electric current running through her entire body. She could hardly tell what she was doing as her tongue came out to run along his lower lip, but Scorpius answered back eagerly, boosting her self-confidence.

She had never been entrapped by someone before, nor embraced so intimately. The fact that her first snog was happening right now with Scorpius Malfoy put all of her emotions into overdrive. Her brain seemed to melt as his hands came up to caress her face, locking her position as close to himself as possible.

His hands were just starting to trace down her body when somebody cackled loudly behind them.

“AHAHA! Look at ‘em! They’re snogging!”

They broke the kiss with a disheartening squelch. Scorpius turned slowly, levelling Lorenzo with one of his most severe glares. Rose, already red as can be, peaked out from around him in time to watch Mia slap Lorenzo on the arm.

“Shut up!” she hissed at the Slytherin.

Lorenzo recoiled and held his hands up defensively, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Amia turned back to the two with a sheepish look, “So… we should probably head back to the castle now.”

Scorpius nodded gruffly, “Alright.”

Without looking at her, he reached down and took Rose’s hand. Rose thought her heart was going to pound out of her chest as they started walking down the street but found her attention diverted at the sight of several large men hanging out down by the train station. They were all dressed in what looked like Ministry robes.

“Are those aurors?” Rose asked, causing the others to look down at the men as well, “What are they all doing here?”

Amia shrugged, not really worried, “I don’t know. We should hurry and get drunk boy here back to the castle though.”

Rose wasn‘t really listening, she was still staring at the aurors, her mind quickly wandering over the different possibilities. Scorpius noticed her still looking and tugged her closer to him.

They turned into the alley before Honeydukes instead of quietly having Mia lead them through the front. As they arrived at the back door of the candy shop, Rose realized they were taking a different route as to avoid the aurors. It was a bit darker going in through the back and a bit drafty once they got down into the tunnel back to school. Rose let a flattered smile spread over her lips as she felt Scorpius pull her closer.

About ten minutes later, the four were trekking up the stairs to climb back out onto the third floor of school. Mia exited gracefully first, and turned to wait for the rest of them. As Lorenzo was lifting himself out, he tripped over the ledge and tumbled to the ground. Mia couldn’t help but laugh while Rose and Scorpius climbed out.

Scorpius smirked as Lorenzo struggled to stand. Rose looked amused as well, but was more interested in the map Mia suddenly had in front of her.

“Is that-”

“Yep. James let me borrow it for tonight. It’s pretty fascinating to say the least,” Mia replied, pouring over the corridors surrounding them.

Lorenzo then came up next to Mia, “What is that?”

“Nunya,” Amia answered without looking at him.

The Slytherin’s face scrunched in confusion, “What?”

“Nunya business,” Amia said again, making Lorenzo laugh drunkenly. Amia smirked at him before looking to Scorpius, “You guys should have an easy shot back to the dungeons if you’re careful on the stairs and go through the tapestry on the ground floor. We should go this way though…” she said to Rose, her eyes returning to the map.

“Oh, okay,” Rose said, awkwardly looking down to her shoes. Now that they were being forced to go their separate ways, Rose was returning to the insecure, nervous mush she had been earlier. Scorpius didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t do anything about it.

“You’re leaving me?” came Lorenzo’s child-like voice. He was staring at Amia like a lost puppy.

Amia wasn’t phased. She gave him a wry smile, “Hate to say it Mr. Italy but our adventure has come to an end.”

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?”

She smiled, gently reaching up to caress the boy’s face, “No.”

Scorpius snickered at his housemate before he pulled Rose behind the statue with him. Her stomach somersaulted as he leaned down and kissed her again.

“Goodnight Rose.”

She was still in a daze when she answered, “Goodnight.”

Scorpius sent her one last staring look before grabbing his laughing mate and leading him off in the direction of the stairs.

Rose blushed and cleared her throat lightly as she turned back to Amia. She was sure her friend would have plenty to say about tonight and Rose wouldn’t deny her all of the gratefulness she had to offer. However, when she looked up to her friend she was staring back down at the map, a troubled frown set over her mouth.

“Something wrong?”

Mia was quiet for a moment, “No…” she finally started to answer, “but there’s people out everywhere tonight. Tons of students are out walking on the seventh floor… it looks like they’re Hufflepuffs being led by Professor Marythorn…”

Rose frowned, “That’s strange…”

Mia then jolted, “Shit, someone’s coming- let’s go!”

Without thinking, the two girls hurried away from one-eyed witch, going in the opposite direction of the random patrol. Mia had just hooked a right down a corridor and Rose was getting ready to follow when a voice echoed down the hall.

“Stop!”

Mia spun on her heal, about to grab Rose and make a dash for it, but Rose was frozen in a ray of wand light. Mia felt her shoulders sag as the sudden downer of being caught came over her. She was just about to step out with Rose when the voice spoke again.

“Rose Weasley, is that you?”

Rose, who had her hand raised to block the light from her eyes, glanced up at the man, “Dean?”

“It’s Auror Thomas right now kiddo,” Dean said, lowering his wand, “What are you doing out of bed so late? Were you trying to find where the rest of the students are meeting?”

Rose frowned, hoping her confusion wasn’t so apparent to the auror, “Um, I was just trying to get back to my common room. What’s going on?” she asked as curiously as possible, hoping to take the suspicion away from her.

“There’s been an attempted- who’ve we got here?” he suddenly turned his wand down the corridor on the right, illuminating Amia in wand light. Luckily she had managed to hide the map before he noticed her.

Rose sidestepped next to Mia, “This is my friend Amia. We were both just trying to get back to Gryffindor tower.”

Dean stared at her for a long second before he nodded, “Right, well come on then.”

“We can get back okay by ourselves if you’re too busy,” Rose offered as Dean started off towards the grand staircase.

“Nonsense,” he said while shaking his head, “I think your uncle is looking for you anyway,” as he finished, the auror’s eyes fell over the girls’ outfits. He glanced up at Rose before turning away and continuing to lead the way.

Rose bit her lip nervously, “Uncle Harry is here?”

“Yes. He was here when the attempted break-in occurred.”

Both Rose and Amia’s attention cut back to Dean with shocked expressions. “Someone tried to break into the castle? Who? Why?” Rose asked as they stepped onto the stairs with the auror. Amia was quiet as she studied the auror intently.

“We’re still trying to figure things out. Right now it’s important that you two remain calm. Just do what you’re told and keep a lookout and you’ll be perfectly safe, okay?” he asked them, speaking rather cryptically.

The girls shared a look, “Alright…”

On their ascent up the stairs, they noticed just how many aurors were bustling around the castle. Groups of students were walking with their heads and other professors were out trying to assist the aurors. Amia briefly wondered where Hermione was and if she was running around with some aurors trying to figure out who would try and break into Hogwarts.

…

“James, I’m going to ask you one more time- where is Rose?” Harry asked firmly, levelling a penetrating look at his oldest son. He was the first one to show up in the Gryffindor common room after his fellow aurors had started to arrive. Anxiously, he watched as James, Albus, and Hugo filed downstairs with the rest of the Gryffindors, but Rose and Amia had come up missing.

He hadn’t known exactly what to look for when it came to Amia, but he studied each girl that came down those stairs and he didn’t think any of them fit the part of his and Hermione’s daughter. Harry knew he couldn’t ask for Amia since his kids were under the pretence that he didn’t know she existed. Therefore he was using the absence of Rose as his fuel of interrogation, even though he was equally worried about his missing niece. He was hoping that when they found Rose, they’d find Amia too.

“Dad I honestly have no idea,” James told him for the hundredth time, “Maybe she had patrols tonight and she’s helping everyone out.”

“I already checked with the other prefects and she wasn’t on duty tonight. What’s going on?”

James let out a frustrated sigh and he looked around the common room, trying to think of something else to say to his dad. He was going mental under his father’s questioning. The truth was he knew that Mia and Rose had some little rendezvous planned- Mia had come to him earlier asking for the Marauder’s Map (something that had come up during one of their nightly common room chats). However, he had no idea where they were or why they weren’t back yet. He was just as concerned over this attempted break in, but wanted to get Harry off his back for a little bit so he could sort things out for himself.

“Did you check the library?” James offered, looking back to his dad.

“She would’ve been returned by now. This is serious James, if you know anything-”

“Dad, I don’t know! She could be anywhere right now. The library, with Aunt Hermione, with the rest of the students…” James trailed off hopelessly, again looking back around the common room. He was running out of ideas to feed his dad. The thought that he’d just have to tell him the truth briefly entered his mind before his eyes rounded on the portrait hole. His heart skipped in relief as he saw two familiar faces coming through, “… Or she could be right behind you.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and then spun around as James pointed behind him. Harry felt relief flow through him as he saw his niece, but then his eyes travelled to the girl standing behind her and his whole body froze. His eyes widened powerlessly as he took her in.

“Great night for a party, huh guys?” James asked sarcastically as he saw their dresses, though he was severely relieved that they were alright and that his dad could stop quizzing him now.

“Sorry!” Rose exclaimed, immediately tugging her dress down, “We didn’t realize what was going on. We were… uh…”

“In the greenhouse, looking at some plants,” Mia filled in for her, “Studying, you know…”

“Studying!” James rejoiced, “Such a believable activity for you two on a Saturday night. Now that this has all been resolved I think we should let Dad return to business and go to bed.”

Mia nodded at him, “That’s a good idea because we are really tired. Right Rose?”

“Yes! Super exhausted.” Rose faked a yawn but it went unnoticed by Harry who was still staring unabashedly at Amia. He couldn‘t be sure but he thought he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he continued to stare at the girl… his daughter… The last time he’d been with her she was only a couple hours old and now she was this beautiful sixteen year old, holding an amazing resemblance to Hermione.

And her eyes… the experience of having his own eyes stare back at him was something he’d never forget.

Amia was still staring back at Harry when Rose and James began to notice their silent exchange.

Rose cleared her throat, “Um, Uncle Harry this is my friend Amia. She’s a transfer student from America.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mia greeted quietly before awkwardly looking away. She supposed she should’ve been used to the amount of staring that British adults did to her, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel self-conscious and nervous every time.

Harry seemed to snap back to reality as soon as the California girl looked away from him. He blinked several times and let out a loud breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“It’s late,” he said rigidly a moment later, snapping back into auror mode, “You three should get to bed. Students are being taken to the Room of Requirement to sleep if you’re too uncomfortable in your own beds. There will be aurors in the common room all night though so you will be… safe…” Harry finished with his eyes focusing back on Amia. He couldn’t help but think that before he’d seen her it was easy to say that they needed to protect her as the Cooper’s daughter… but seeing her now he was overcome with the sensation that he was seeing his daughter, again, finally after so many years…

“No one actually made it into the castle, right?” Rose asked, looking curiously at her uncle.

Harry jolted and shook his head, “No. They couldn’t get through.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Mia said, making the first move towards the spiral staircase. She waved to the boys, “Night James, goodnight Mr. Potter.”

“Goodnight,” Harry responded softly, watching her walk off to the stairs with gentle eyes.

James rubbed at his eyes, “I’m off too. Night Dad.”

“Goodnight son,” Harry replied as he too headed off to his dorm.

Rose was the last to go. “It was good seeing you Uncle Harry,” she said, coming forward and kissing him on the cheek.

Harry squeezed her shoulder, “Sleep tight Rose.”

Rose nodded and started off for the stairs. She had just hit the first floor landing when Amia appeared around the corner. Clearly, she’d been waiting for her.

“Just curious, do people try to break into Hogwarts often?”

Rose let the concern wash over her face once again, “No. I mean, not since I’ve been here and before that, the only thing I could think of is when Death Eaters got inside and ran the place during the war. But since then Hogwarts has been the safest place in the world pretty much.”

Amia made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat before she looked back at Rose. The fifth year was leaning against the wall with a smitten grin hanging over her lips. Mia couldn’t help but smile.

“Tonight’s been crazy, that’s for sure,” Rose said, “Thanks for taking me out.”

“Did you have fun?” Amia asked, already knowing her answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

Rose smiled dizzily, “Yes. This was the best night of my life…”

“I bet it was,” Mia smirked, starting to walk up the stairs again.

Rose frowned as she followed her, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. So how was making out with Scorpius?”

“Mia!”

“I have to say, you look liked an old pro…” Mia trailed off, turning around to shoot Rose a teasing look.

Rose looked humiliated, “How long were you watching?” she asked, dreading to hear the answer.

Mia let out a laugh, “I’ll put it to you this way, you guys were going at it like animals. I almost had to cover my eyes…”

Rose’s cheeks were nearly glowing red, “I’m so embarrassed…”

Mia gave her a light-hearted poke, “Don’t be. It happens to the best of us.”

“I wasn’t even the one to kiss him…”

Mia smiled, “You underestimate yourself, Rose.”

They both stopped as they reached the fifth floor landing. Rose rested against the wall and brushed her hands up her face, resting them at the top of her head, “I can’t even think right now. My head is spinning…”

“Get some sleep,” Mia said, pushing her off towards her door.

“I’ll try.”

“The faster you fall asleep, the faster you’ll get to those sweet, Scorpius filled dreams,” Mia reminded her teasingly.

Rose grinned, “I’ll try harder then.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Rose waved one last time before disappearing into her dorm. Mia smiled to herself as she started up the stairs again. She felt well happy knowing that she made Rose happy with herself. She hoped that her friend would start to feel more confident with herself as a result of tonight, and she hoped that her and Scorpius would continue meeting up for both their sakes.

As she made it into her room and started to get ready for bed, she couldn’t get the thought of Harry Potter off her mind. She hadn’t been stared at so blatantly like that since her first day here.

Like her first day with Hermione, she would tell herself to forget about their interaction. However, that wouldn’t stop her from wondering why.

…

Ten minutes had passed since the kids had went upstairs to bed, yet Harry was still downstairs in the common room. He had fallen back onto one of the plump sofa chairs, and was staring into the fire, lost in thought. He knew that he needed to get back to work and that his colleagues needed him in mint condition so that they could figure out who exactly was trying to get into Hogwarts uninvited, but he couldn’t get his mind to properly think about anything but Amia.

Their Lilly was so big now. Hermione had been right, they had a girl that looked exactly like her. He couldn’t believe that he’d had a part in creating someone so beautiful. He had of course had these feelings of fatherly affection towards his two sons, but in this case it was different. Like he had always felt a pull of longing and now that pull was satisfied.

He closed his eyes desperately as he remembered back to the first time he’d seen his daughter nearly seventeen years ago. All the love he’d felt for her then was flowing through him once more, now accompanied with a sense of relief. At least she was safe. At least they’d made it to this point-

“Harry?”

Harry jumped in his seat. He quickly rubbed at his eyes before looking up to the auror addressing him. “Yes Harper. What is it?”

“We found something that we thought you should take a look at.”

Harry readjusted his glasses, getting his mind back to business as he stood, “What?”

“There’s a magical residue that has been left on the front doors. It’s different than a normal wand residue though,” Harper told him, his confusion evident on his face, “We have it bottled up but McKinley still wants you to come look.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll go. Can you stay here and watch the common room until someone comes to replace you?”

“Yes sir,” Harper agreed, taking his wand out.

Harry started for the portrait hole but then turned around as he thought of something else, “And keep a close eye on the girl’s staircase, will you?”

“Yes sir.”

Harry thanked him before he left through the portrait hole, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. He didn’t like the idea of anyone harmful in the castle when Mia was sleeping peacefully in an upstairs dormitory. If anything, tonight was a testament to how he would do anything and everything to protect his daughter. The promise he’d made to her and himself seventeen years ago hadn’t changed at all. He was still going to do anything and everything to protect her, no matter what that meant for him.

---

Next chapter: Ron pays an unwanted visit.

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