Disclaimer: JKR owns.
Lost Daughter
Chapter 5: Her Name's Amia
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[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!
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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.
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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…