Hello Julius

Chapter One: Goodbye Hermione

Hermione hurried into the cool house, away from the heat of the muggy August evening. She kicked of her sandals in the entryway and pulled out the envelope the doctor had given her.

“I am going to be a mother,” Hermione thought happily as she ripped it open, and pulled out an official looking paper, stating her condition, the approximant date of conception, and the estimated date of delivery.

“Harry! I’m home, and I have some news,” she said happily into the lounge. She looked again, to see no one occupying her husband’s usual chair. She walked slowly into the room, seeing a stack of Daily Prophets sitting on the coffee table. She picked up the most recent edition reading: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the Remaining Death Eaters Still on the Loose!

Hermione sighed sadly. Harry promised her he would be home by today, not matter what happened. It was their two-month wedding anniversary! She looked on top of the fireplace mantel for any post that might have come. Her heart leapt when she saw one letter sitting there, addressed to her. She tore it open happily, knowing it was Harry telling her he got caught up in France, couldn’t get a port key.

Dear ‘Mione,

I know you really want to be seeing Harry’s hand writing right now, but that isn’t possible. He was at the Ministry this morning, looking like he hadn’t eaten in days, rambling on crazily about Crabbe and Goyle, and how they slipped right though his fingers. He didn’t talk to me very long, but he mentioned something about your anniversary coming up. I’m sure he is in France right now, catching those two bits of filth and bringing them back to Azakaban. I know you are upset but there is nothing he, or you can do about it. I see you later. Parvati sends her well wishes.

Your friend,

Ron.

Hermione slumped down in the nearest chair, and read the letter over and over again.

“He has been gone for three weeks with out one letter, but finds time to talk with Ron. There is something wrong with this situation,” Hermione thought bitterly, and threw the letter into the flames.

She didn’t remember when she started to cry, or when she fell asleep, but she knew when she woke up, she was scared to death. A loud booming noise resounded though the small house, startling Hermione from her restless sleep, to full awareness and fright. Wide bars of sun were filtering through the blinds, causing her to squint as she fumbled her way to the door, turning the lock with trembling hands.

She flung open the heavy door to see Ron, who looked like he had just been through hell and back.

“R-R-Ron? What is the matter? Come inside, you look like hell.” Hermione took his arm and guided him into the lounge and sat him down on the love seat.

“Whatever you have to say can wait. You need cleaned and bandaged up,” Hermione scolded, taking the corner of her shirt and dabbing some blood away from his face.

“No, ‘Mione, you must hear this now,” Ron croaked out, grabbing her arm before she could even take one step.

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “Ron, what is it? What has happened?”

“It’s Harry. He’s lost. No one knows where he is. We are almost certain he was killed by the last remaining cell of Death Eaters.”

Hermione’s face went white. “A-are you sure? Ron, please tell me you aren’t certain.”

Ron took Hermione’s hand and guided her down on the seat next to him. “We found his glasses and wand blood spattered and broken at their hideout.”

Hermione gasped, tearing falling down her face. “No, this can’t be! Harry isn’t dead…He’s alive…He can’t-” Hermione choked on her sobs, and buried her face in Ron’s dirty robes.

“I am so sorry, Hermione…”Ron trailed off, his voice shaking, letting his own tears fall down his cheeks, leaving clean lines in the mud and blood.

“Happy anniversary to me,” Hermione said softly into Ron’s chest.

Chapter Two: Questions

Hermione passed a ten-pound note to the driver of the cab, and told him to keep the change. She got out of the car quickly, her heeled boots clicking as she stepped onto the curb and into the early summer air of London. She was dressed in Muggle business attire; she had a meeting with the head of a Muggle publishing agency. She hurried into the busy train station, smiling and laughing inwardly at the obvious wizarding families there to pick up their sons and daughters from the Hogwarts Express. They were milling about looking sheepish in overly done-up Muggle costumes, speaking in hushed voices to their younger children to stop talking about Quidditch.

Another couple stood at the ticket booth, trying to figure out the map and the Muggle money. Right as she arrived near the barrier, she found Ron and Parvati waiting for their own children.

“It’s good to see you Hermione,” Ron said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. She kissed him back.

“Good to see you too, even though I just saw you last Friday night!” Parvati gave Hermione a hug.

“We worry about you is all. I am glad the kids are coming home today. You look so lonely some days, when Julius isn’t around. You need to get out more, instead of scribbling your stories in the house.”

“Yes, Parvati, but those scribblings are what keep Jules in school, and me from dying of starvation!” Hermione laughed. “Besides, I don’t want to go out on anymore dead end dates with men who are either only want to get in my pants or don‘t even know the meaning of the word vex.”

“Hey, the stupid ones wouldn’t come from me would they?” Ron laughed, knowing the men he set Hermione up with were professional Quidditch players. Although quite handsome and charming, most were dumber than a box of rocks.

“No, Parvati set me up with a stupid one once. And that one keeper guy…he was lecherous and daft!” Hermione laughed, as kids began emerging from the barrier slowly, one by one, as not to attract attention from the Muggles dashing about, trying to get to their trains on time.

The friends’ children emerged, Jules first, then Lindy and Rion, pushing their trunks on trolleys. Lindy and Rion looked very much alike, both with flame red hair, and Parvati’s trademark dark complexion and exotic eyes. Jules spotted his mother quickly. He walked to her smiling, glad to be going home. Hermione took him in a tight embrace. It was true; she was lonely without Jules around. He was her reason for living, and she loved him with all of her heart.

“Mum…mother, I can’t breathe!” Julius protested laughingly.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jules. Let me look at you now!” Hermione said letting go and stepping back. Jules was rather tall and lanky, even for the age of fourteen. He had light brown hair that wouldn’t lay down properly, much to Julius’s dismay, and his mother’s amusement.

“Mum, how is it possible that I changed that much since Christmas holidays?” He whined, feeling stupid standing with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets.

“Oh hush up and let your mum be! Come on let’s get home. I’m sure you have a lot to tell me about the House Cup game!” Hermione said, putting her arm around her son’s shoulders. Julius sighed.

“It was a horrible defeat. The Slytherin seeker was too good for Tom Longbottom.”

“It‘s odd, his father was never very athletic.”

“Yeah, he is really good, but not the best. Besides, Tom is only a 2nd year, and the Slytherin seeker was a 7th, it was just a matter of skills. We were so close. Lucky that the Slytherin beater got fouled for hitting me with his club, or else I would have never gotten that penalty goal! And the Slytherin chasers only got one goal, thanks to Rion!”

“You are lucky he didn’t break your arm,” Hermione said, tutting about the brutality of the games they let teenagers play.

Jules rolled his eyes. “It didn’t hurt,” he said acting tough, and tried flattening his hair. They stepped up to curb, and Hermione threw her hand out to hail a cab. As a car pulled up Julius began to unload his trunk and his owl from the trolley. The taxi driver gave the pair and odd look as he put Jules’s trunk and owl into the boot, which the owl didn’t appreciate all the jostling her cage was being treated with.

“Where to?” The man asked when he got back in.

“176 Charing Cross Road please,” Hermione replied back, and the car lurched forward, and into the busy London traffic.

That night as Hermione was preparing dinner, Julius came into the kitchen with an agenda of questions to ask his mother.

“Mum, can you tell me about my father?” he asked, trying to sound innocent, knowing she didn’t want to talk about the man that left her so long ago. Hermione stopped her rummaging and turned to him.

“Jules, you know plenty about your father.”

“No, really, I don’t. I don’t know his middle name-”

“James, same as yours,” Hermione said shortly.

“What his greatest fear is-”

“Dementors…but that was during his time at Hogwarts. It‘s probably different now. ”

“Why he hasn’t come to meet me…?” Julius said leaving his biggest question for last.

Hermione heaved a great sigh and tucked her long hair behind her ears. “Jules, there is something I never told you about your father.”

“What?” He asked hurriedly, wanting to know.

“No, it’s not good. It’s my entire fault. I should have told you….told him.”

“Wait. Back up. You never told him you had a child together?” Jules asked horridly, wanting to know the story.

“Remember when everyone thought he was dead and he suddenly came back several years ago? I thought about writing a letter to him, telling about you, but I was so frightened, Jules, that he wouldn’t recognize you as his son. Why do you even need to see him anyways, Jules? Am I not doing a good enough job by myself?” Hermione eyes were cast downward, a place they never usually stayed while talking.

Julius was taken aback. “Mum, that’s not it at all! You are the best mum in the world, I wouldn’t trade you for Harry Potter any day, but that isn’t the point of this. Every kid deserves good parents. I already have one…but there is a hole in my life. Besides, every time I ask about him, you get this wistful look on your face,” Jules said.

“What wistful look? There is no wistful look on this face,” Hermione said playfully hitting her son on the arm, her cheeks flushing a little

Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on, mum. Do it for me? You’ve never been to America; it will be like a holiday! You need one, you know,” Jules said, putting his arm around his mother’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe how tall you are! You’re fourteen and your already six feet tall! I’m only 5’4’’! I remember when I could carry you around on my hip.”

Jules laughed. “Come on, don’t change the subject. You can write a letter to Percy to have him get in touch with President of Wizardry over in the States. I mean Percy is the Minister of Magic…and he’s an old family friend, and he knew my dad too. The President over there can look him up, and then we can go over and see him!” Jules said, smiling as a plan formulated in his mind.

Hermione sighed. “I don’t know, portkeys to America are expensive these days, Jules. Maybe next year.” Hermione started the water to boil.

“Mum! You just had a best seller in America; we have plenty of money! I’m at the top of my class, I manage to balance marks, Quidditch, and friends. Why don’t you think of it as a reward for me doing so well at Hogwarts?”

“Damn, why does he have to be so reasonable?” Hermione thought. “Okay, okay, we’ll go! You’re lucky you have such a great mother,” she said, pointing a spoon at him.

“Mum, you rock! You are the best mum in the world, and I mean it,” Jules said giving her the same tight hug Hermione gave him at the station.

“Julius…Jules…I can’t breathe!”

“Oh, sorry Mum.” Julius laughed, and allowed Hermione to return to her task.