Disclaimer: JKR owns.
Lost Daughter
Chapter 22: Green on Green
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He's standing there. His appearance was slightly mystical, slightly illusory. But his smile was just as warm as she'd always remembered. A rush of colour flooded her cheeks as she came to the realization that he was looking at her so delicately, so beautifully. She smiled back at him. She couldn't help it.
He opened his mouth, still staring at her. Hermione frowned, trying to make out the word he had just mouthed. She sucked in a ragged breath as she realized for the first time that he was shirtless. He looked just as chiselled and hard as he always had with only one exception- he was a man now; his presence was broader and more encompassing compared to her. She could suddenly feel the adrenaline thriving through her.
She wanted him… oh, how she wanted him…
Her eyes were again directed to his flash of movement- his hand was now wrapping around something.
Gentle fingers touched her wrist and slid down, through her fingers. She felt a squeeze as she watched Harry's hand tighten. Her heart started thumping.
She closed her eyes as she felt a strong arm pull her back into a hot, breathing body. His large hand splayed across her stomach, again pulling her in.
Her breathing hollowed involuntarily. Automatically, she opened her eyes but met an unexpected sight. He was gone! Where did he go?
A pair of lips pressed into her throat and she thought she heard herself let out a moan. It didn't matter where he was, she thought. It felt good, it felt so good.
A streak of hot breath spread across her shoulder and she felt another kiss. It didn't make sense!, she thought again vigorously. How could she be feeling his caresses if Harry was standing in front of her? He was right there…
She was kissed again, and then her eyes snapped open.
Sunlight from the split curtains spilled across her bed, hitting her in the face. She figured that could've been what was responsible for her flushed cheeks and tingling body. But as the memory of last night passed through her, she knew that wasn't the case. Hermione could feel Harry breathing behind her, his lips brushing across the back of her neck.
A rush of dread and pleasure ran down her spine as she stayed frozen in place. She knew she should move, but didn't think she'd have the capability to. She hadn't felt this way in so long, whatever this way actually was. Her body was set aflame again as Harry burrowed his head further into her shoulder. His arms tightened around her. It made it hard for her to breathe, also making it harder for her to concentrate on why this was wrong. Her thoughts could wait, she decided a half second later. Right now, all she wanted to do was feel.
But no- she couldn't. Harry was… off limits… Her forehead crumpled as the battle raged on in her head.
His mouth mumbled something unintelligible. She bit her lip.
Please just wake up, please…
And then a fortunate, depressing thing happened. Behind her, down lower by her thigh, she felt something vibrate. His badge.
He woke with a jolt not a moment later and snatched his badge. Hermione recognized the Head Auror's restricting voice reverberate around the room.
"Sightings of the dark mark have been leaked. All aurors not on assignment report to headquarters immediately."
She then felt another breath release from his mouth. He was awake now, and her thoughts were confirmed as Harry sighed and pushed himself up.
As if in one with his movements, Hermione turned around to face him.
"I guess you have to get going?" she whispered against the sheets. She could only make out the lines of his face thanks to the sun's influence.
His hand drew back slowly over her stomach, as if realizing for the first time the intensity of their closeness. "I guess…" he muttered distractedly.
Harry looked lost in thought for a moment but it wasn't long before he was moving to get off the bed. Hermione watched the way his shirt moved against his chest. She couldn't help envisioning the strong chest she'd seen in her dream; she was surprised how vividly she remembered.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Harry told her in a raspy voice as he stood up and stepped into his boots.
Hermione sighed as another stab of pleasant dread surged through her. Could she really handle another moment like the one she'd just had? Was it worth the risk?
Just as she was beginning to entertain the thought of what could've possibly happened had Harry's badge not gone off, the flash of a girl appeared before Hermione's eyes.
All surging emotions came to a halt. The immense trepidation of which fate her daughter would decide on today made all the tingling stop. Amia would need her even more if she left, whether she was aware of that or not. The last thing Harry and Hermione should be doing was treading their old waters… glimpsing back into the passion they had once felt for each other.
Once?
Not now. Not now.
"Harry, m-maybe you should go home after work tonight. Instead of coming here…"
Harry frowned as he pulled his thick cloak over his shoulders, "Do you not want me here? I thought you wanted to know-"
"That's not what I mean. It's just… I mean, Ginny…" Hermione mumbled, feeling her own stab of guilt as the image of her once friend appeared in her mind.
There was silence for a moment before Harry shrugged, "Ginny doesn't care."
"Ginny doesn't care that you don't come home at night?" Hermione repeated in a stringent tone.
"No… it's for work…" Even Harry seemed to realize how silly his excuse sounded. They both knew that wasn't the majority reason.
"Usually husbands like going home to spend time with their wives, Harry," Hermione reminded him gently, her hands twisting at the sheets nervously.
Harry's tone was now exasperated, "Don't lecture me."
Hermione frowned, matching his mock glare of annoyance, "I'm not lecturing you, you're just confusing me!"
"I'm confusing you?" Harry repeated, shoving his wand into his wrist holster, causing a few sparks to shoot out. Hermione jumped nervously as Harry squared his shoulders in front of her. Even though he looked angry, his eyes were almost pleading with her.
"You said you felt safer with me around and now you're telling me that I shouldn't come? If you don't want me here, then I won't come anymore. That's all you have to say."
Hermione's face melted in anger. She completely ignored her own warning reminding her how Harry always was a bit testy in the mornings. To be honest though, she didn't care. Morning or not- she didn't want to be the only one responsible for accepting the rational answer. Why did he have to make things so difficult?
"Stop twisting my words around! I like it when you're here- but I shouldn't!"
"Why not?" Harry sneered, his eyes daring her to continue.
Hermione's shoulders slumped slightly, "Because you have a wife."
"And you have a husband."
"A husband that I'm divorcing."
"Well maybe I'm divorcing Ginny."
They both froze mid-tirade. Hermione stood up lightly from the bed, shell-shocked by what she had just heard. If appearances weren't mistaking her, Harry also looked surprised by what he'd just said.
"What?"
He sighed, pre-defeat already washing over him. That response had come out of nowhere. Quietly, he shook his head, "Never mind."
"Wait- you and Ginny are getting a divorce?"
It was like magnets the way his eyes suddenly fell into alignment with hers, "No… I don't know…"
"How do you not know something like that?" Hermione asked, her chest rising and falling more rapidly now.
"We haven't talked about it… but it's been heading in that direction for a long time now," Harry said, no longer the fiery character he'd made himself out to be a few moments ago. He sounded sombre; bleak.
"I had no idea. I mean, Ron said you hadn't been getting along as well lately, but I didn't know it was that bad…"
"Lately has been the past few years. Ever since Al came to Hogwarts, things really changed. We didn't have anyone at home to pretend to be a loving couple to."
Hermione stared at him, a breath caught in her throat, "To pretend?"
"I'm not in love with her, Hermione. I don't think she's really in love with me either."
She closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from running off with her imagination. "How can you be so sure? Maybe it's just a phase-"
"That's a maybe I don't really care to find out about," he said lowly.
She opened her eyes again and found him staring straight at her. "Harry…" she whispered, not knowing what else to say to stop the ideas forming in his head.
Not now. Not now…
"I don't…" Harry muttered, choking on his words. He fought with himself before closing his eyes and shaking his head defiantly, "Look, she's the mother of my two sons. For that I'll always love her… but, in all honesty, I never should've been with her in the first place."
Her mouth fell open as her chest continued to rise and fall heavily. Their eyes were locked.
"I know it sounds terrible to say, but she wasn't exactly my first choice," he whispered, his gaze
unfaltering from hers. The brick wall that had been built up in him over the past sixteen years cracked. With every
breath he took, he felt freer. He could already see the beautiful life waiting beyond the wall, a life where he and
Hermione were together.
"Harry-"
"What?"
Tears were pooling in her eyes as she forced herself to shake her head, "Please don't do this."
"Do what?" Harry asked, already picking apart the doubt in her eyes. This is what he had dreaded most about breaking his wall…
"This. We've worked too hard to forget about all that-"
"The product of all that is living in this castle!" Harry charged suddenly, now desperate to deter Hermione away from the abominable rationale she was landing on, "It's not very easy to keep ignoring it when everyday I'm reminded of what we had."
"Had," she reiterated, taking a step back towards the bed. "Past tense."
Harry was suddenly glaring again, "And that's it? It's as simple as that for you?"
"No, but… we shouldn't be treading these waters. This is a conversation we should not be having."
"Says who?" Harry asked, taking a step towards her.
Hermione was clearly effected by his closeness. She shuddered as she sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes falling by the wayside. "I don't know…" she mumbled, defeated.
Daringly, he reached forward and grabbed her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, "Look, I can't make you have those feelings for me. I can just tell you that they've always been there for me. I've never forgotten."
Her wide, shocked eyes stared into his for a few harsh seconds before Hermione silently pulled away from him. She took a few steps to the side before glancing back at him, "Why didn't you say something before?"
"I was… mad… I mean, the first thing you did when you came back was announce that you were with Ron-"
"Only because I knew you were with Ginny," Hermione retorted, the honesty of her statement evident in the blush across her cheeks.
"Because I was mad at you! We never should've been split up in the first place- that wasn't my fault!"
Hermione was startled by the loudness of his appeal, "I know it wasn't! But it… I- at the time…"
"You hated me."
The radical vibe of the room ceased and Harry and Hermione were left staring quietly, vulnerably at each other. They hadn't been this honest with each other in so long. It was refreshing, albeit terrifying. Harry knew he was making her cross the bridge that she had built up the moment she had written that letter so many years ago. He closed his eyes, fighting back the bile as he remembered her words…
"I hated myself Harry," Hermione whispered weakly a moment later, wiping a stray tear away from the corner of her eye. "I didn't want to pull you into that-- I just, I wanted for you to be happy without me."
"Well I'm not. And you're not happy either- I can tell."
Hermione kept quiet, knowing his words were true. Even though she couldn't exactly regret the letter she had written sixteen years ago, or the decisions she had made since then, she'd be a liar if she said she hadn't spent countless nights wishing things had ended up differently. Her reaction to his sleepy advances earlier that morning was proof of that.
"You may have fought too hard to forget," he started, his voice renewed with gentleness, "but… most of my happiest memories are my memories with you."
She bit the corner of her lip as she stared back at him, "I've never forgotten."
She felt his warm hand wrap around hers. A moment later she felt herself being pulled towards him. Loud, obnoxious warning bells went off in her head but she was surprised how easy it was for her to dismiss them. His other arm was winding delicately around her waste. She was staring at his lips; she could tell he was staring at hers…
And then, right as their lips were edging in on each other, it happened. Harry's badge vibrated again.
"Damn it," Harry grunted. He had never been more annoyed with his profession. He reached in the front pocket of his robes; he was going to grab his bloody badge and chuck it out the window…
"You should go," Hermione's voice stopped him.
He looked down at her, his eyes already pleading, "I'm sure they don't need me that bad-"
Hermione shook her head and took a step back, backing away from Harry's embrace, "No, Harry. You have to go. This is- we... We can't do this."
"Because of everyone else?" he asked, his voice now defeated.
Hermione was quiet. She turned, glancing out the window. Harry felt a twinge in his stomach; the sun's rays made her look even more beautiful. Just as he was getting caught up in her again, she turned, her eyes bearing the bad news he never wanted to hear her speak.
With glistening eyes, she shook her head, "We're not children anymore."
Involuntarily, he stopped breathing. He had nothing to say because he didn't know which emotion was more dominant: the immense sadness he felt from her words, or the offence. The love he felt for her had never been childhood love. It had always been as real as it was to him now at 36.
He wanted to prove it to her, to make her see. But he still couldn't breathe. Deep down, no matter how hard he wanted to deny it, he knew she had a point. They weren't children anymore, they had considerably more responsibilities. Their responsibility was now less of a broader sense, but significantly more important to each of their hearts. They couldn't do this- not now. Not with the potential that someone was trying to hurt their daughter. Despite the desire he had raging within him, it all came down to that. Amia needed them more.
He was still silent, not breathing. Hermione shuffled nervously, "Harry?"
He looked up into her eyes again, letting her see desperation brewing there. She was the only person he ever let see his vulnerable side. He knew it would do something to her.
"Okay," he said. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of her bedroom, out into the empty classroom beyond.
Hermione wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hoped she hadn't just made the second biggest mistake of her life.
…
Harry was stony and quiet on his way to Professor McGonagall's office. After leaving Hermione's, his badge had vibrated again, prompting Harry to think it'd be wise to find the Headmistress and let her know that he'd be leaving to deal with the press conference. If already he was being called to handle the burgeoning situation down at the ministry he knew it wouldn't be long before McGonagall would have to do the same. He could only imagine the amount of owls in route to Hogwarts at the current moment.
He reached the two gargoyles outside of the Head's office and unhappily muttered the password. He was trying his hardest to focus on what was happening at the ministry but he couldn't help but think back to Hermione. He didn't have any thoughts to accompany the image of her, frazzled and out of breath in the light sleep wear she'd been wearing that morning.
She had hurt him; he was frustrated beyond belief… yet he still wanted her. It was the worst feeling ever.
Harry reached the top of the stairs and knocked. After a few moments of silence, he knocked again.
No answer came from McGonagall's door. He sighed, figuring his attempt to worn the Headmistress had been futile. She must've been out running her own errands. With a calming breath, Harry grabbed his wand. Unwillingly, he filled his mind with the happiest memories he could come up with and raised his wand arm.
A stag erupted, mystic and glowing. Harry stared into its eyes, relating the message he wanted to send to McGonagall, before the stag turned and galloped down the spiral staircase.
"Whoa!"
Harry frowned in the middle of putting his wand back in its holster. He took a couple steps down the stairs.
Amia looked up at him, having watched the patronus disappear through a stone wall. Her face was full of awe.
"You're deer ran right through me," she said as Harry came down next to her.
"It's a stag."
"Sorry."
"It's alright." He looked at her, measuring her up, "How are you feeling?" he asked a moment later, "You alright?"
Mia shrugged, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."
"Looking for McGonagall?"
"Yeah, I was suppose to come see her. I have to tell her something."
Harry took an extra moment looking at her. He could guess what Amia had to tell her. With a sigh he shook his head, "She's not in I'm afraid."
"Oh, well that's okay. I can just come back later."
A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Harry was trying to come up with something useful to say while also still inconspicuously checking her over. He had caught a glimpse of her yesterday asleep in the hospital wing; he couldn't describe the relief he felt to see her standing before him okay.
Amia was looking suggestively down the spiral staircase, trying to think of how to make her escape when her stomach grumbled loudly. She looked down, curious herself.
"Hungry?" Harry asked.
Amia shrugged, "I guess." She hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday but given everything that had happened, food seemed like the last thing she wanted to worry about.
"Why don't you go down to breakfast?" Harry asked, realizing that that's where McGonagall probably was anyway.
Amia sort of shuffled to the side, "I… I don't really want to see anyone right now." There was a silence before she shrugged again, "Don't really feel like answering questions just yet."
Another silence followed. Harry could totally sympathize with her; how many times had he been in her shoes? Not wanting to see anyone, not wanting anyone to see him? Out of everyone in this castle, Harry was the one that had been through what she was going through. Maybe this was his chance…
His eyes slowly drifted down to his front pocket where he knew his badge was. He then looked back up to Amia, his mind made.
"Come on then."
"Where are you going?" Amia asked as Harry trotted down a few steps past her.
Harry turned back to answer, "I'm taking you to the kitchens."
"You don't have to, I'm sure you're busy," Mia said, shoving her hands in the front pocket of her navy blue Avalon Academy hoodie. Harry could tell it was just a cover.
He shook his head, "My work can wait. Anyway, Hermione would kill me if she knew I'd left you hungry."
Mia looked up to him and for a moment, green stared at green. Harry had never realized how emotional it'd be to look into his daughter's eyes. Suddenly every nerve in his body was reinforced with the idea that what they were doing was right. Hermione was right. They couldn't lose sight of what was important. He'd always felt this way, even if it had been a little out of view for a while. Everything he did had to be for her- he had to protect his daughter.
Mia nodded awkwardly a second later, "Alright, lead the way."
…
Amia had never been to the kitchens before. Therefore when James dad led her down to the basement and directed them to a portrait of a bowl of fruit, she was rightfully shocked when he tickled the painted pear and heard it emit a childlike giggle before transforming into an aged doorknob.
Harry opened it for her and stepped aside for her to enter, grinning at the look on her face. Once inside, Mia didn't even both to hide her awe. The place was huge!
Rows and row of cabinets lined the walls, storing pots and pans of all sorts of different sizes. Food, drink, and other cookware zoomed through the air, descending down on a hoard of small-bodied creatures working in groups at four long tables. They were similar in size to the house tables up in the great hall, Mia thought.
Though thin and slight in appearance, every single house elf was keeping busy by cutting up vegetables, scrambling eggs, roasting meats with a simple snap of their fingers, or doing some other chore that Mia couldn't really keep up with. She watched as a group of house elves in particular finished loading a platter of French toast and pancakes onto a large golden plate. Once they had stopped loading side dishes on it, the golden saucer rose straight into the air, hovering towards the roof. Amia frowned, wondering when the thing would stop before it would stick straight to the ceiling, causing all the house elves hard work to be ruined. Her eyebrows shot up when, instead of clattering against the kitchen ceiling, the platter disappeared through the top. It suddenly made sense to her why the kitchens were in the basement.
"Whoa…" she muttered for the second time that morning.
Harry smirked, "Tell me about it."
With his hand on her shoulder, he pushed her forward towards a spot on one of the middle tables that the house elves weren't covering with their laborious preparations. Amia sat down and Harry took the seat across from her. She followed his lead and copied as Harry grabbed a random plate from the table and started taking from the random dishes that surrounded them.
It took her a second of watching before Amia realized how hungry she truly was. She eagerly grabbed some of the pancakes another elf was setting on a plate, smiling at it as the elf looked up in amazement at her.
She started eating, unaware of Harry's gazing, and was happy to feel the immediate effects of nutrition in her aching body. After eating a couple, she grabbed a few more pancakes off the platter before it began its ascent upwards.
She shook her head slightly, staring around at the diligent elves, "House elves are amazing. We don't really have any where I'm from."
"You know, when we were in 4th year, Hermione started a campaign for house elf rights."
Mia grinned, "Really?"
Harry nodded, "Yep. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Ron and I called it spew. She used to hate that."
Shea laughed, "Did she ever get any followers?"
"I wouldn't necessarily say she had followers but she did make a difference. Because of her our old headmaster started paying the elves wages. There was this one elf, Dobby," Harry told her, smiling fondly at the memory of his old elf friend, "He really appreciated what Hermione used to do."
Mia looked around one more time at the bustling kitchen before nodding back at Harry, "That sounds like something she would do."
"Yeah. She's very… passionate…" Mia watched as Harry blinked once before going back to his food. She could tell his persona was different from having brought up Hermione.
"You know her really well huh?" Amia asked curiously, half wondering if she had the right to be asking Harry Potter this. She knew she had a little leeway with Hermione concerning personal issues, but Mia couldn't deny the fact that she was curious about Harry too. There was just something about the pair of them that remained unseen; something off in the distance blurred by grey zones and boundaries. She knew it was none of her business but it was hard to settle for only half the truth. Perhaps hearing Harry's side of the story would help her understand more about her transfiguration professor.
Luckily, she thought, Harry didn't hesitate to answer, "Better than she knows herself- whether she'll admit it or not. But don't get me wrong; there are times when I have no bloody clue what the woman's on about."
He dug at his sausage, tearing it apart angrily. Amia's eyebrows raised. Obviously there was something there…
"Well… since you know her better than I do, do you know if she's ever taken any other students under her wing before?"
"This is her first term teaching."
"Oh. Right."
Disappointed, Amia went back to her breakfast. Maybe it wasn`t going to be as easy to talk about this as she'd imagined. Harry looked up and could tell that she was still looking for an answer. He sighed quietly before answering, "I think you remind Hermione a lot of herself when she was younger. Maybe that's why she's so adamant about looking after you."
Amia nodded, pushing around some cut up pieces of pancake. A few moments of silence followed where Harry and Amia only had the clanking of cauldrons and the chop chop chop of knives touching the elves' wooden cutting board to listen to. Amia didn't know what spurred her to do it, but a few seconds later when the question escaped her lips, she figured she might as well. If he didn't want to talk more about Hermione then there was no point beating around the bush.
"The people that attacked Hogsmeade yesterday- they're Lord Voldemort's followers aren't they?"
Harry looked up at her, eyes wide. It was a moment before he could answer, "I don't know. We caught no one."
"But that sign in the sky was Lord Voldemort's sign. I read about it in History of Magic," Amia said, letting him know what she already knew.
Harry swallowed roughly, "The sign yesterday was Voldemort's trademark, yes."
"Doesn't that mean that whoever's attacking are his old followers? I thought most of them were in prison or dead. Does this mean-" By that point, Mia had set down her fork and was leaning over the table, closer to Harry. Her eyes were getting wider and wider with the possibilities before Harry stopped her.
"This is nothing for you to worry about. Let me and my colleagues handle it," he said, giving her a firm look.
Mia wasn't deterred, "Why would death eaters be trying to break into the school? What are they after?"
Harry too dropped his fork. He looked up at her with the undoubtable look of determination etched into every corner of his face. He didn't have to guess why she was asking these questions; she was his kin after all. It was in their blood to ask these types of questions. But what worried him was that she felt like she had to ask. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she was now inadvertently involved. This wasn't for her to worry about; yesterday was a mishap. He wasn't going to let these people hurt her again.
"Mia, I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he vowed, the intensity of his words linked with his strong gaze.
She blinked, clearly taken aback. "Oh… thanks, but you don't have to worry about me. I'm not anything special," she muttered, shaking her head.
Harry frowned at her last comment, "What?"
"Nothing…"
She looked back down to her plate, trying to figure out how to get past their second stalemate. It seemed like she was only getting dead ends with the auror.
"You wouldn't tell me even if you did know, right?" she guessed a moment later.
He fixed her with a hard stare, "I understand what it's like to be curious Amia. But don't go putting yourself in the middle of whatever's going on. It's my job to stop whoever's doing this- not yours. Do you understand me?"
"Yeah," she replied with a slight roll of her eyes. Why did adults always have to forget what it's like to be curious? She didn't want to go out and stop the lunatic herself- she just wanted to know.
"Good," Harry said, not catching her peal of defiance.
Amia let out a giggle a minute later. Harry looked up at her with a curious smile of his own.
"What?"
Mia shook her head. She had been wondering what Hermione would`ve done to get the answer out of him. Probably just threaten to hex him or something… "I bet you dragged Hermione into so much trouble when you were kids," she said instead to answer his question.
Immediately he scoffed, "Lies. She was the most clever witch in the entire school. We had the impulse, she showed us the way."
"Was it hard for you to go to school here? With everyone knowing who you were… what you had done?"
Harry shrugged, "It was a bit stressful at times."
"Stressful," Amia mumbled half under her breath, "Yeah."
"What do you know about it?" Harry questioned, giving her a imploring look.
Quickly, Mia shook her head, "Oh nothing. Just curious."
"You've never had anything happen like this at your home school right?" Harry asked, almost nervous to hear the answer.
"I don't think so. Nothing this major. But my school is just a little school out in the Pacific. Nobody important goes there."
Again, Harry frowned at her comments of herself, "Hermione's told me how advanced you are. You don't consider yourself important?"
"No," Mia answered automatically before her attention caught on to what else he'd said, "Hermione told you I was advanced?"
"Yeah. Hasn't anyone else ever said that to you?"
She looked away for a moment before shrugging. She didn't care to think about that at the moment.
In the moments Amia spent trying to distance them from the topic of her being `advanced', Harry took the time to look at her. He wonder how many hours of looking at her he'd missed exactly, and wondered if it was ever possible for him to make up the lost time. It really would be terrible if she left. This was the first time they'd ever really spent time together and already he felt like he never wanted their breakfast to end. He could only try and imagine what Hermione's feelings were. She saw Mia every day… how hard would it be to live a life where Amia wasn't here? Would they have to find out so soon? Now that they knew what it was like to have her around, the possibility seemed cruel.
And while he never wanted to have to think about it, the idea that Mia could be leaving- today- was very real. He knew he had an infinite amount of time to make up with her; he wasn't going to lose out on his golden opportunity by boring her with his stares.
He cleared his throat, determined to keep her entertained, "So, any good quidditch in America? Sorry but the New England team's absolute shit."
Amia laughed and looked up with renewed enthusiasm, "That's because nobody cares about quidditch there. It's so old fashioned."
"Have you ever played a real game?"
Mia wrinkled her nose, "Hell no. I'd like to think I'm not a part of the medieval club."
"Quidditch is the best sport on earth," Harry groaned dramatically. He smiled as she chuckled, "You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
"No."
"Really?" Harry asked again.
"Why do you sound so surprise?"
Because your mother is terrified of heights and looking at you is like looking at her. "Er, no reason. Usually that's why girls don't care for flying," he quickly covered.
Mia shrugged, taking a sip from a glass of pumpkin juice the elves had brought over for them, "I've never flown on a broomstick."
Harry's eyes went wide, "You're joking."
She shook her head, giving the auror a sorry-to-disappoint-you look, "It's not that popular where I come from. I think I want to try though- James makes it seem like a lot of fun."
"Well he is my son. Flying comes easy to us," he said proudly.
Mia raised an eyebrow, "Braggadocios much?"
Harry shrugged, "It's not bragging if it's the truth."
Amia gave him a cockeyed look as she laughed, "I think in this case it still might be."
"Alright maybe," Harry relented with a grin, "I'll have to take you flying sometime."
The question had escaped him before he really had time to think about its implications. The breath caught in his throat as he looked up to her for her reply.
But Amia didn't look weirded out. She again looked curious, "You'd do that?"
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, "I wouldn't want you to learn from the wrong person."
A second passed before a smile appeared in the corner of her mouth. She nodded her approval, "That'd be cool."
Harry wanted to burst out in a smile but he told himself to keep his composure. Instead he cleared his throat and voiced the question he was surprised hadn't been brought up before now, "I take it you're staying then?"
Amia frowned, surprised by his question, "How did you…" But then she stopped herself. He was an auror, she reminded herself before shrugging, "I don't know to be honest. Every time I decide on whether or not I want to go home, I start thinking about the other option even more. I really want to go home, but a part of me feels like I have a place here too."
"You definitely have a place here Amia."
Amia glanced at him before nodding, "Yeah… I've only been at Hogwarts for a short amount of time but it already feels like home."
Harry mimicked Mia's early actions by pushing some food around on his plate, "More of a home than the place where your family is?"
Amia snorted, "You don't know my family. Africa is more of a home than with them."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said, surprised by the vigor of her sarcasm.
"Don't be," Mia said unabashedly, "It doesn't bother me."
"Shouldn't it though? It is your family. You live with your mother don't you?" Harry asked, feeling more free to ask the questions he'd been dying to know. He hadn't even told Hermione how it kept him awake at night sometimes; it was terrible to have such burning questions about his daughter's well being while not having any rational way to find out. But they were together now, in a seemingly comfortable setting. Maybe this really was his golden opportunity.
Amia struggled with herself for a few moments. Harry could tell she was trying to think about the easiest way to explain to him. "I don't expect people to understand," she started bleakly, "My concept of family is just different I think. I don't look at my mother like as the woman who gave me life. To me, she's just… a lady… that I'll have to deal with until I'm of age to leave and never come back. Done deal," she finished, hitting the side of her hand on the table, almost like she was imagining cutting the cord.
Harry sighed sadly, "I understand how you feel about them more than you think."
"Yeah… I guess you would."
Harry gave her a questioning look to which Mia shrugged, "We had to read about you in History of Magic," she explained.
Harry's eyes rolled to the side as he let out a pained groan, "Bloody hell, you must be joking." He remembered the time Ginny revealed to him that the History of Magic ghost had incorporated Harry into his lesson plan. He still to this day was annoyed by it.
"Nope," Amia said, not bothering to hide her grin, "There was a pretty extensive chapter on you. Binns actually pepped up a lot more going over your life. Probably because 20 years ago doesn't seem like long at all to him."
"Dozy bugger…"
Amia then laughed loudly, "No offence but the Skeeter articles about you are kind of hilarious."
Harry looked worried, "Please tell me you didn't read too many of those. That woman is the bane of my existence."
"No I didn't read too many. Just the ones from your fourth year. Rumour has it you and Hermione had a thing. She refused to answer my questions about her love triangle with you and Victor Krum," she finished, wiggling her eyebrows in Harry's direction.
He fidgeted, "That- that was, um you see Skeeter was just a- a… listen, Hermione only went to the Yule ball with Krum. It never went beyond that. Rita Skeeter is just… a bloody vulture… she'll make a story out of anything and everything."
Amia couldn't help but laugh at the man's awkwardness, "Is she still in the business?"
"No- thank bloody Merlin. She herself had a scandal a couple years back. Witch Weekly exposed her for hiring wizarding escorts… of all things…"
Mia put a hand over her mouth to cover her laughter, "That's awesome."
Harry nodded, now grinning too, "Her being forced into retirement is even more awesome."
They both took a sip from their goblets and then another bite of pancakes. They were both still chewing when Amia addressed him again, "So you're going to be staying around Hogwarts more, yeah?"
Harry swallowed, then nodded, "My duties will be focused here, yes." And by duties, I mean personal responsibilities, and by personal responsibilities, I mean you.
Amia took another bite as she let herself wonder over the man in front of her. At first, she had just thought of him as James dad. Then his persistentness she found a bit weird. But wasn't that to be expected, especially after all the things she learned about him in History of Magic? Their breakfast had been more than decent; Harry Potter had turned out to be a pretty good guy after all. She could see him more in James now… and she could also see why Hermione was so close to him. Or had been so close to him at least…
She looked up at the auror and took the chance to study him as he finished off the rest of his plate. He was going to be stationed at Hogwarts- the most important auror with the ministry was going to be stationed here, where some dark forces were trying to penetrate. That had to mean something, whether about how serious the situation was in general or how serious the situation could become if anything else were to happen. But maybe he was here for more than just professional reasons too. Her thoughts jumped back to her transfiguration professor. She had to try again…
"Can I ask you a question?"
Harry nodded easily, "Sure."
"Did you ask if I was afraid of heights because Hermione's afraid of heights?"
Amia's eyes were fixed on his face as he looked up awkwardly, "Er, well she is actually…"
She nodded before continuing, "Can I ask you another question?"
"Okay…" Harry said, though much more skeptical now.
Amia took a calm breath, "Do you think I look like her?"
Harry's eyes closed but he otherwise didn't hesitate, "You look exactly like her."
"Have you guys always been so close?"
"No. To tell you the truth there was a long time where we didn't talk much."
"Why?" she asked, her voice now much lower in trepidation.
Harry sighed shakily, "Just… we started living different lives."
"So this was after you two came back from the States?"
"Yeah- wait, what did you say?" His eyes snapped to hers but Amia didn't lose her resolve. She took another deep, calming breath.
"I asked if this was after you two came back from the States? From Boston?"
Harry dropped his fork. It clattered noisily on the table.
"She-she told you I was in Boston with her?"
The warm rush of resolution washed throughout her. Amia loved that feeling- she loved finding the answer to a long-awaited question. Acknowledging Harry, she shook her head gently, "She didn't have to. You just did."
Harry's eyes widened slightly, "I-"
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice.
"Es-"
She nodded, "Especially your kids. Promise." Harry sat back, watching as Amia cut up the rest of her pancake. He was reeling from the unexpected turn their conversation had taken and was wondering what to say now that he'd been revealed. No one else had ever found out that Harry and Hermione were together in Boston; how ironic that the first person would be the third member of their family at the time…
"Can I ask you another question though?" Mia asked, breaking the silence once more.
"What?" he asked, his voice sounding much more hard and edgy.
Amia had the decency to look shy, "What did you guys get in a fight over?"
"What makes you think we got in a fight over anything?" Harry asked sharply.
Amia sank in her chair and shrugged quietly, "Why else wouldn't you have ended up together?"
Harry sucked in a breath and froze. He'd rather be thrown to a pack of angry giants than have to answer his daughter the question he himself hadn't even been able to figure out. For a split second he wondered if Amia knew how different her life was close to becoming, or had once been close to becoming. He wondered if maybe, deep, deep down she was starting to figure everything out… But before he could get too wrapped up in that very opaque reality, he shook his head hard.
"It's complicated."
"That's what she said too," she mumbled, looking down to her plate. She was kind of disappointed with his answer but then she reminded herself that she shouldn't be so concerned. What did it matter to her anyway?
"Sorry, sometimes I ask way too many questions," she apologized, giving Harry a sheepish look.
He shook his head to signal it was okay but Amia could tell she had overstepped her lines. Harry looked sad and washed
over now, she would even go as far to say that he looked a bit sickly. But before she could read too far into another
situation that was none of her business, she backtracked, trying to find something that wouldn't end their
breakfast on a sour note.
"It's cool that you guys worked past whatever happened though. You've been through a lot; it's inspiring to know you're still friends."
Harry nodded, "Yeah. She's uh… my best friend…"
"I'm full," Amia announced a second later. "Excellent work everyone," she called out to the house elves.
Several of the little, wrinkled bodies descended on her as she stood, thanking her and trying to shake her hand. Harry watched as Amia grinned and laughed at the elves enthusiasm, before turning back to Harry with a grateful smile.
"Thanks for bringing me here. I think I should go find the Headmistress now; gotta tell her my fate."
Harry gasped slightly, but it wasn't enough for Amia to notice. She hadn't told him! She hadn't said exactly what she was going to do. What if this was their last moment together? What should he do? Hug her? Vow to protect her from harm?
Harry had glanced down in the midst of his anxiety. He had to say something encouraging to leave her with, he knew that. But when he looked back up, expecting to see his daughter standing there waiting for his response, she was gone.
He turned to the portrait hole and caught a glance of Amia pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head before the portrait of the fruit basket swung shut.
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