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.
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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.
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Next chapter: Harry and Ron have a chat that leads Ron to Hogwarts…
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