Unofficial Portkey Archive

Okay, this idea came out of another fic I read here at PK.org, one about Hermione meeting JKR after the HBP came out. It's a really good fic, don't remember the title though as I read it a loooong time ago.

Well, so, I've been toying with this one for a long time, years actually. But only recently I decided to write it down. The original ideal included three ships: HHr, RL and DG, also included a funny incident that showed how the RHr relationship ended after one date and some more, but as you'll see… it didn't turn out as funny as I intended it to be.

One more thing! This is also a response the fanfic100 challenge, not from livejournal.com because the table is not from any comm there, a friend gave me these prompts. I'll be filling it slowly, so it's an in-progress work, sort of. The oneshots are all independent, so don't worry about the next chapter and that.

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Title: "derailed"

Rating: PG-13

Words: 6,663

Theme/Prompt: #100 - Choices

Warnings/AN: post-dh, maybe canon-compliant, maybe not, I'm trying to keep the mystery here.

Summary: In which the Creation revels against the Creator… nineteen years later.

Disclaimer: The Usual.

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You should've expected this to happen after forcing the issue those last two years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You love the anonymity that comes with this world-your world, the one you created. To be able to roam the streets unnoticed and relax completely is something you missed. Ever since the announcement was made-the announcement of your Creation, your pride and joy, coming to its inevitable end, people crowd around you trying to find out how it is going to be.

How it is going end.

You always answer the same though, without really giving anything away: "It's going to end spectacularly."

And it did. It ended more than just spectacularly and now you only need to see if your public will love it as much as you do. But first, you want to speak with the main characters of the series that changed your life.

Harry Potter and his friends.

You want to see them all grown up and successful, leading the life they were meant to lead from the very moment you thought of that boy with the lighting-shaped scar on his forehead. You want to see them pass on their wisdom and experience to the next generation. You want to speak with them and see your happy ending come to life.

Suddenly, you look up and catch sight of King's Cross, the turning point of many significant happenings within your series. You smile, blissfully thinking you're almost there. It's half past nine, still much too early for them to be there, but the excitement rushes at you nonetheless. Hastening your pace, you hurry through the entrance of the building and head straight for that wall between platforms nine and ten. Smiling like a mischievous child, you make sure no one is paying attention to you and go through the wall.

Right into the magical place that is Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The engine's steam flitted through the air around you, giving the scene before you a surreal feeling. You would have loved to stay still and take everything in, but more pressing matters make you hurry along the platform in search of your favourite family.

They're all a family now, you think with a wide smile on your face.

The platform is nearly empty, with the exception of those parents who are sending off their first born or only child to Hogwarts. Knowing it would be a while before The Family arrives, you make a bee-line to the closest bench and are about to sit down when something off to your left, further down the platform, catches your attention.

A head with black, forever-wild hair.

Such a sight wouldn't make an impression on you, but you would recognize that untidy hair anywhere. Bewildered, and checking the wristwatch at least three times because you are sure it's still too early for them to be here, you approach the man you spotted cautiously. As you get near, however, you recognize other aspects of this man and smile.

It is him. The one and only. The Boy Who Lived. The Man Who Conquered. Your pride and joy.

"Harry Potter."

His name passes through your lips sooner than expected as you haven't quite reached his side, but it's alright. One Harry Potter turns on his heels, a shocked look on his face before it morphs into a pleasant smile. You smile because he's always been like this, eager to reunite with old friends; he always wears a smile on his face regardless of whom he speaks to. Next to him are two trolleys: one has three trunks piled on it, the trunk in the middle has three initials carved into its side, three simple letter yet they make your heart swell with joy-A. S. P.; the other trolley has two owl cages, a midnight-black owl in one and a chestnut-coloured owl in the other, and a pet carriage with a cat that looks like a baby version of Crookshanks.

You open your arms and Harry accepts the gesture gladly, enveloping you in one big embrace before stepping back. It has been nineteen years since you last saw him, since you last saw everyone, and if his peaceful and happy demeanour is any indication those have been happy years.

"K, it's good to see you," he says, smiling, his voice a much deeper baritone than you remember but it's to be expected. "It's been years since we last met."

"Nineteen years, Harry, nineteen years."

He chuckles, nodding his head lightly; there is a mischievous gleam in his eyes, one that he keeps from his younger years. "Yes, good years. Time does fly when you're having fun, eh?"

You laugh, enjoying his easy-going nature now. "Oh, and you have been having fun these past years, Mr Potter?"

"How could I not? I have a wonderful and beautiful wife, fantastic children, and very good friends. Life's been good."

You're about to reply, but an excited shout interrupts you rather abruptly. However, as soon as you see who interrupted you, the smile on your face only widens.

"DAD!"

Harry had turned around the instant he heard the shout, so you can't see his expression, but you don't need to; the slight tension that seemed glued to his persona leaves in a rush at the sight of the running and smiling children, that much you can tell, but you are positive that his smile, like yours, is only wider than before. It comes to you now that maybe he'd been standing there waiting for them to return from wherever they went. Always the responsible father, of course, you'd known he would be this way. Turning your attention away from the Boy Who Lived, you focus on the children-or, rather, the child, as you only pay attention to only one.

The boy. Black-haired and green-eyed; the boy who is a replica of his father, sans the round glasses and the lighting-shaped scar on his forehead.

Albus Severus Potter.

You can't help but feel warmth spread through your chest every time you think of this kid. Of course, there are others you love dearly, but Albus Severus takes the prize with you. You created him specifically to show the world what a great father Harry is, and ended up loving more than any of the other children. There's a nagging little voice in the back of her head telling her to pay attention to the other child, to acknowledge more than just the fact that the child is a girl, but you resist, entranced with the boy.

And it's only when the children reach Harry, tackling his open arms, that you pay attention. Because it's not the boy who reaches the father first, it's the girl. The one embracing Harry enthusiastically is the bushy, auburn-haired little girl. Of course, Harry's son reaches the pair second later and joins the embrace, but it's the sight of the girl that shocks you. You would recognize that bushy hair anywhere.

"Rose?"

The girl squeaks and looks your way quickly, her hair wiping around her face, before she hides it in Harry's shoulder. But that glimpse of her is enough; she is most definitely the daughter of the Brightest Witch of Hogwarts.

The shock prevents you from saying any more as you watch Harry stand up with the girl held securely in his arms. With one arm placed firmly under her tights, Harry holds her against him, letting Rose cling to his neck, while he places his other arm around the boy now standing next to him. Harry smiles at you, oblivious to your muted surprise.

"Of course, I forgot. I was going to introduce them to you, but you already know them," his smile turns cheeky. "But if you want, I can still follow proper protocol."

You shake your head, more to clear your thoughts than to answer to his suggestion. "That won't be necessary, I…" You shake your head again, finally finding your centre as you turn to the trio before you, and ask the question that'd been nagging at you. "Hermione's here?"

The kids give you odd, bewildered looks, although Rose hides her face quickly again, not permitting to take in the lovely features you know she has inherited from both her parents (you want to see her eyes shine blue as you always imagined it), and Al's face turns soon to confusion, as if telling you that that should be obvious.

Harry, you realize, is sporting a similar look though he hides it better, and wipes it off sooner than the children before returning to his happy-go-lucky demeanour. Rose murmurs something to him and he chuckles. "You'll have to forgive Rosie, usually she's not this shy, but this week has been hectic for her. You know, what with today being so special and all. Give her time to calm down and you'll find her to be as delightful as her mother," he pauses shortly to kiss the crown of Rose's head. "As for Hermione, I'm surprised you're shocked to know she's here. Surely, you didn't expect her to be late on this important day. Why, Hermione hates tardiness!"

His cheeky grin is contagious and you can't help but return it, pushing the uneasy feeling of seeing the girl clinging to Harry like that and the wondering of where are the remaining Weasleys aside.

"Well, considering who her husband is… Surely, you can understand my surprise!"

You both laugh at that statement, and while you can't be sure, you think Harry is remembering the same as you-the famous Weasley tardiness. A thought strikes you then, and you look around searching for a familiar redhead, the one belonging to the youngest Weasley. Before you can ask, however, Harry talks on about Hermione's husband.

"Ouch, okay. I suppose I should have known this revelation would come as a surprise, as it's been almost two decades since we last met," he pauses, chuckling a little, and shifts Rose on his arms to hold her more comfortably. "But you know Hermione; she wouldn't have hesitated to make that kind of changes. And you know her husband; he'd do anything for her, never questioning her. Right, Rosie?"

Rose nods her head, but still refuses to face you. Next to them, Al smiles this knowing little smile at his father, one which Harry returns, and turns to face you. "Dad is right, of course. But he forgot to mention that she would do anything for her husband too."

Harry gets this unreadable look on his face as he ruffles his son's hair affectionately. "Yeah, she'd do anything for him too," his whisper is so soft you almost miss his words, and the emotion behind them is such that you don't know what to think.

The way Al grins at his father makes you wonder what you missed, because obviously there is some kind of secret shared between the Potters, a secret you're not privy to. Letting this go, you focus your attention on the black-haired young boy and crouch in front of him to meet his green eyes with more ease. You change the subject. "So, where is your Mum, Al? And as we are on the topic of family, where are your brother and sister?"

Al widens his eyes in alarm and looks at his laughing father for a while, clearly taken aback by your questions. And, really, the boy's never met you, he's probably freaking out and wondering why you know so much about his life. Mmm… maybe letting nineteen years pass by was not a good idea.

Harry, as always, comes to the rescue. "Son, remember when your mum and I explained to you the reason of our life-the life of all those in both the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, it's all thanks to K here."

Al nods in understanding, and then turns to focus on you and, by extension, on your question. "Uh, well… er… Jamie forgot to pack his Charms' book, and the assignment that was in it, so Mum took him home to find it. Lily's a mama's girl, so she went with them."

"Unlike Rosie," Harry quips in playfully.

Al laughs as he nods enthusiastically. "Yes! She's completely daddy's girl!"

Rose makes a noise in protest as she turns to Al, her hair flying everywhere, as she tries to kick him and fails; Harry laughs good-naturedly. "Shut up, Al!"

Harry, his laugher receding, urges the auburn-haired girl to look at him and speaks in a gentle tone to soothe her. "Rose, Al's only teasing you. Honey, there's nothing wrong with being daddy's girl, because daddy loves you," after getting the desire effect, Rose nodding slowly, he kisses her forehead. "And you are his favourite rosebud, never forget that."

The sincerity of his words gets you like nothing else; you think is sweet the way he comforts his best friend's daughter. But there is something about the way he interacts with the girl that nags at you, something that doesn't sit well with you; the tenderness with which he talks to her, the way he looks at her, almost like… like…

It's almost like she were his own daughter. Harry behaves with her the same way a father would, the same way he does with Al-

But you don't get to finish that thought, for right then a blurry vision of black, red and brown shoots pass you and stops right next to Harry, to the trolley actually. The once-blurry vision is only James Potter, the boy being scolded by his father for nearly knocking you flat to the ground, the same boy who gives you a vague apology while tugging his trunk free of the pile, only to open it and shove a book-his Charms' book into it before slamming it shut and putting it back into the trolley.

"James!"

The stern tone of Harry's voice finally grabs the brown-no, chestnut-haired boy's attention. He turns to Harry and the resemblance between the two is clear; James has most of his father's features, the strong jaw and high cheekbones, the thin lips, his forehead and, hell, even his hair seems to be an untamed mess.

"Yeah, Dad?"

But he has his mother's eyes and nose. That upturned nose you spent years and years imagining when writing about the girl, now woman, in question. And those chocolate-brown eyes that stared back at you in your mind any time you wrote her dialogues are now looking right at you as the boy tells you something you can't bother to catch. The way those eyes -Hermione's eyes- look at you expectantly makes you nod slowly, and then you're catching your breath because those eyes spark in relief and the boy-James is smiling at you gratefully before turning his attention to the mini-Crookshanks.

Then, you hear him whisper: "Hey, there, Crookshanks Jr."

God, no.

It suddenly feels like you're watching a movie unfold before your eyes, because it dawns on you that there's nothing to be done to change things so this scene takes the form of your happily-ever-after. Nothing you can do to change…

"Look, Rosie, Mum's here!" Harry says enthusiastically; there's no doubt on what his look means when looking at the approaching woman behind your back-love.

Finally, as if drawing strength from the sole fact of her mother's presence, Rose turns to grin at her and you finally see the eyes you've been craving to see.

God. No.

But there's no tint of blue, no Weasley humour sparkling there, only a vast see of green and hidden mischief; not just any green though, no, it is Harry Potter's green and hidden mischief. And it's not only that, you notice as well the shade of her hair; hair that before you passed it as a-bit-darker-than-Weasley-red is actually Lily-Potter-née-Evans-auburn hair. In short, Rose is Hermione with Lily Potter's colours.

How did this happen?

You blink and then there's Hermione walking by you, being dragged into the small group by an excited little girl, who, you realize, can't be no one but little Lily Potter. She releases Hermione's hand and goes straight to Harry, looking at him with a pleading gaze that nobody could possibly refuse. Harry smiles indulgently, bends his knees a little, and picks the girl up in his free arms, completely happy to have both his daughters (because, you know, they are his daughters) secure in his arms. Out of the corner of your eyes, to the right, you see Al giving Hermione a crushing hug, a perfect replica of his mother's (god, his mother's) hugs; however your whole focus is on the girls hugging Harry, on their resemblance with the woman standing next to you.

Rose's alikeness has already been established, but little Lily's has not. Not that you need to doubt who her parents are. Like James, her hair, too, is chestnut-coloured, and she, too, has Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes. Unlike James though, her facial features are those of Hermione's, from her curvy jaw to her upturned nose, but she has Harry's lips and forehead.

Neither of the children inherited her mother's once-large front teeth.

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, Hermione, still tightly wrapped in her son's embrace, walks the remaining step to her smiling husband and kisses his lips, only breaking apart when the boys start making gagging noises. And, lord, now you understand the secretive smiles shared between father and son moments ago, when you were all joking about Hermione's husband.

"Ouch, okay. I suppose I should have known this revelation would come as a surprise, as it's been almost two decades since we last met. But you know Hermione; she wouldn't have hesitated to make that kind of changes. And you know her husband; he'd do anything for her, never questioning her. Right, Rosie?"

He'd do anything for her, never questioning her? Of course, Harry was talking about himself! How could you miss that? And what he whispered later-

"Yeah, she'd do anything for him too."

-that should've been a death giveaway.

There's a brief exchange between the couple and then Hermione turns to ruffle James hair, earning a half-hearted protest from their firstborn. "I know, we took longer than expected, but James wouldn't recognize he had lost his book and wouldn't let me summon it either."

"But I didn't lose it! I just couldn't remember where I left it after finishing my Charms assignment," James huffs annoyed.

Harry, bless his soul, never once showing a sign of complaint at having his arms full, literally, turns to smirk at his eldest child. "And where was it?"

Hermione smiles knowingly and James huffs again, mumbling: "Under my bed… where Mum said it would be."

The tender look they, Harry and Hermione, share next finally snaps your self-control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You should've expected this to happen after forcing the issue those last two years.

You knew it would eventually come back and bite you in the arse, but you wanted so much to make "The Epilogue" work. God, so much.

It'd taken you by surprise by the end of the Fifth Book the road Hermione Jane-Jean, Hermione Jean Granger had chosen to follow. Because you'd told all your readers that she and Ron were the obvious they-bicker-like-an-old-married-couple pair that would end up together at the end, that they'd been your obvious choice since the Fourth Book. Well, obvious to yourself and those people who let subtlety fly over their heads, because you made it clear what Hermione's choice was the moment you made her, at the end of the Fifth Book, fly to London to rescue Sirius even knowing it was a trap. You chose to make the girl who was terrified of heights and flying get on an invisible creature and fly miles and miles into what was most likely a suicide mission. You made the girl who was praised for her logic and reasonable decisions disregard her strongest quality to follow a misguided boy into a death trap, thus getting almost killed herself. You chose to make her do all that for one single reason-one single person.

Harry Potter.

It is an act of true love to put aside your own fear and insecurity and safety and reason to stand by one person, to support one person only.

She'd done it all, countless of times, and you realized that-you realized that your Hermione had made her choice, but it was one choice you didn't agree to, couldn't agree to, because then your "Happily Ever After" would crumble. If you'd let her walk down that road, then making Ginny Weasley the perfect girl for Harry Potter would be useless, because ultimately, you knew which girl Harry would choose, and that wouldn't bode well for the "One Big Happy Weasley Family" philosophy-would not sit well with your readers.

So, going against you better judgment, and your husband's advice ("Let it run its course, darling. Hermione made her choice, just like you did all those years ago"), you wrote the Sixth Book and turned Hermione into someone unrecognizable, someone that made even you wince in pain every time you wrote her dialogues. But it was necessary, no one understood how necessary was for Hermione to drift apart from Harry and focus on Ron, and since, you figured, it was your Creation, you made it happen, passing her change as just normal teenager stuff. Every teen went through phases in their lives.

But, no matter how single-minded you were about the issue, writing the book was difficult; every other page you had to catch yourself from writing something that would be too close, too important between Harry and Hermione, and even then sometimes you slipped. Clearly, Hermione didn't make things easy for you, no, she fought every single letter on every single page, managing to make small breakthroughs from time to time ("It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable"). God, even Harry fought you, though not as fiercely but did it nonetheless, that's why the "chest monster" came out as a, well, monster.

You could go on and on pointing out how difficult it was to write Ginny as well (she had been coming along nicely in the Fifth Book, turning out to be a good friend for Harry, but you had to turn her into this insufferable perfect girl made just for the Boy Who Lived), although Ron was surprisingly easy to write (unfortunately, by the end, you realized that all through Hermione's advances you made him completely uninterested, even after his calling her name in his sleep, a moment that you could have used to bring them together, you still made him appear utterly unaffected-like he simply didn't want Hermione that way).

Then there's the Seventh Book.

You really don't want to think about that now. You put so much work on it, you simply can bear to think it'll be a disappoint for your readers (if not all, there are some people who understood your need for the "Happily Ever After", then those who did not appreciated the change in Hermione in the last one).

God, you really should have.

And looking at them, Harry and Hermione, with their children-no, it's simply too much. Is it any wonder why you snapped?

Stop it. STOP IT RIGHT NOW!

You don't realize you've screamed those words until you see the happy family giving you confused looks.

Hermione blink, as if only now recognizing you and smiles. "K! I'm sorry for, well, ignoring you, but Harry tends to monopolize my attention rather effectively."

She gives you a one-armed hug, the mini replica of her husband still attached to her waist, and you can see Harry smiling amusedly at her. Your anger, unknown to everyone, boils inside you.

"It's not on purpose, although it is good to know I still hold my wife's attention."

Hermione flashes him a smile. "Always, Harry. You've always had my attention. From that very moment I fixed your glasses on our first trip on the Hogwarts Express."

That, you think, it's what most definitely makes you explode.

"That is not true."

The venom behind your words surprises everyone, even you, and no matter how much you want to shut your mouth now, the floodgate is already open.

The kids flinch a little and you can't bring yourself to care, but, belatedly, you acknowledge that their reactions are not due to you but to the cold aura their mother seemed to have around her.

Her cold reply is expected. "Excuse me?"

"Ron. Ron's the one who has always held your attention! Not Harry. Ron!" You sound slightly deranged, but it doesn't matter, the situation, you believe, requires it. "Just stop this nonsense. How could you do this to Ron, you rightful husband? And you," rounding on Harry, you see the first signs on his explosive temper coming forth. "You, how could you do this to Ginny, you rightful wife?"

Then, Rose interrupts. "Daddy, what is she talking about?"

Maybe, you don't know, it's the boiling rage in you that makes you react so harshly. Maybe it's simply the fact that all your dreams and expectations for your babies are shattered what makes you snap so furiously at the auburn-haired girl. You don't know, you can't say. But the truth is that you just made the worst mistake of your life.

"Shut UP. He is NOT you father! Ronald Weasley IS YOUR FATHER!"

You just hurt one of his loved ones-his rosebud.

And maybe trying to grab her, trying because you couldn't even manage to take a step in her direction, is not the best next choice, because you're sure you've never seen so much loathing in Harry Potter's eyes.

Whatever is preventing you from getting closer to the family also is preventing you from moving, as you can only stand frozen in place as you see Hermione (Potter, her name is Hermione Potter) snarl in your direction before hurrying over to Harry and taking a sobbing Lily into her arms while trying to calm her eldest daughter. But nothing she does can console the crying girl in Harry's arms; Rose has her face hidden between her hands, silently shedding her tears.

Gently, as if she were made of highly breakable crystal, Harry sits the girl on top of the piled trunks and with utmost care, pries her hands off her face. Rose doesn't open her eyes or raises her head, but Harry is not deterred. He simply grabs her chin tenderly and tilts her head back, placing a kiss to her forehead.

"Rose," he begins, now having the girl's entire attention, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's true when people say you look just like your mother, you do. But there's one thing that makes you different; one feature that stands out to correct those who assume you have nothing of your father-nothing of me," he pauses, sliding his index finger over her eyelids. "You see it every day in the mirror, rosebud. Your eyes."

The tears have long stopped and now Rose tries to brush away those that remain in her eyelashes. Her voice is soft when she talks. "My eyes?"

Harry grins and taps his own eyes. "Yes, your eyes. You have my eyes, my mother's eyes, and your brother's eyes," he motions with his head to the boy now standing next to him, the boy who's grinning and nodding his head enthusiastically. "You're as related to me as any of your siblings is. So never doubt that you, little rosebud, are my daughter."

Hermione rushes to their side, not being able to hold back any longer, and wraps one of her arms tightly around her eldest daughter. "Oh, honey, don't listen to what people say, they only want to hurt our family. I spent long hours deciding when to have you and, later, went through even longer hours in labour doing just that. And there is only one man who helped me with all of it."

"Daddy?" Rose asks, with all traces of sadness gone from her pretty face.

Hermione grins at her and quickly pecks Harry on the cheek. "Yes, Daddy."

Harry smiles and kisses each kid on the forehead, making the girls giggle while the boy groan in protest. "Now, why don't you kids go find Teddy and stay with him for a while? Mummy and I need to talk to… the lady here."

All traces of friendly behaviour are gone from his face and you know you'll probably never have an amicable relationship with the Boy Who Lived now. The scathing look coming from Hermione tells you loud and clear that she won't even bother with politeness around you anymore. They nods and do as told. After James helps Rose down the trolley, he grabs hers and Lily's hands and heads down to the other end of the platform.

You know this is one conversation you're not going to enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry-"

"How… dare you say that to my daughter?"

"…"

"But, Harry-"

"You have no right to go spouting lies about my life!"

"…"

"It-"

"Have you any idea of the damage you could have brought upon my daughter?!"

"…"

"But it was no lie-"

"…"

"Forgive me, but I can attest who the father of my children is. I've only ever slept with one man in my life and he's standing right here next to me."

"This is not the man you were supposed to end up with. I TOLD you that back in Sixth Year!"

"…"

"Yes, and I remember quite clearly what my response to that was. I never thought of Ron as someone to spend my life with. It has always been Harry."

"…"

"And regardless of what happened in Sixth Year, during and after the War, Hermione has always been my only choice. I was just too afraid of jeopardizing my relationship with the Weasleys to act upon my feelings."

"Stop blaming yourself for something that had to happen. We were both idiots back then, a pair of confused and wounded teens that were trying to cope with their ever-changing lives."

"…"

"I can't tell you how glad I am you put your foot down when it came to go looking for your parents after the funerals. If you hadn't fought Ron over the issue and stormed out seconds later, I wouldn't have realized how much my relationship with Ginny depended on you."

"Harry…"

"…"

"I know, it's an awful thing of me to think, but it's true, Hermione. My relationship with Ginny always felt surreal to me, like I said before, something from a dream, and at first it was alright. But I realized that it was only alright because I already had a real relationship-with you."

"Sans the snogging."

"…"

"And when you left that summer in '98 to Australia…"

"Oh, Harry…"

"NO. No, no, no, no! This is not how it was supposed to be! Harry, Ginny was always meant to be your Happy Ending. She was perfect for you! And Hermione, Ron was always meant to be your soul mate. That's why you bickered so much, it was the tension!"

"Are you listening to yourself, K? Ginny was not perfect for me! She was the perfect girl for the Boy Who Lived. But I'm not him! I'm Harry, just Harry! And I found the perfect girl for me in my best friend."

"And just for the record, bickering does not equal sexual tension or affection; it just means that two persons are not compatible. Ron and I were never compatible. All I did was nag him about things he didn't even care about and all he did was belittle me and make fun of my beliefs. Excuse me for wanting more in a relationship than senseless screaming matches and hurtful comments."

"Oh, so you're going to tell me your lives are just dandy? No fighting for the lovebirds?"

"No, of course we don't fight. We argue. We disagree sometimes, but I'd never hurt Hermione intentionally. I've never initiated an argument with the sole purpose of hurting her feelings to feel good about myself."

"And we always resolve our differences. We talk about it; we don't sweep our problems under the rug."

"…"

"Now, ma'am, is there anything else you might want to say? It's already half past ten and I wish to spend the remaining half hour with my children."

"…"

"Can you… tell me how did this-you happened?"

"…Hermione spent a year in Australia, half of it searching for and mending her relationship with her parents. She owled me weekly, and told me she was going to spend a second year there before returning to England…"

"You see, my parents really loved Australia, and were hesitant to leave it so soon after getting their memories back. They said they wanted me to enjoy the country that had enchanted them so."

"…"

"By the end of the first year after the War, my relationship with Ginny had already crumbled. There was nothing to save, no matter how much we tried, but she just wouldn't accept it. She was so hell bent into been the perfect girlfriend that she couldn't see I didn't need that-didn't want that."

"…"

"…"

"So, after she graduated from Seventh Year, we had this huge argument. She wanted to marry, I didn't. Not surprisingly, she threw a tantrum, Mrs Weasley sided with her, Mr Weasley tried to remain neutral, the guys stayed out of it and Ron was still bitter over Hermione leaving. I didn't stay long to hear her screaming. After grabbing my things, I left. And since I didn't have anywhere else to go, I decided to look for my best friend."

"I was really shocked when he turned up at my parents' doorstep."

"…"

"And that was that. I spent a year with the Grangers, finally being part of a family… and I liked it. It wasn't long after that I realized how a really felt about Hermione, but it was still two years after the War when we finally got together."

"Only because I snogged you silly. If it had depended on you we'd still be dancing around each other."

"…"

"That's true… Three years later we were married. And a year after that, Hector James was born."

"Two years later, Alexander Sirius and Rose Danielle came into our worlds."

"Hector James? Alexander Sirius?"

"Last but not least, Lily Emma arrived three years after the twins."

"And she's been the baby of our family since then. Unless you wanted another one, dear husband?"

"Wait…"

"No, no. I'm quite happy with our children. If you happen to fall pregnant again, I'd be delighted, you know that, but I'm not asking for more. I really am happy with our family, Hermione."

"I'm happy too, Harry."

"Wait! Hector James? Alexander Sirius? Lily Emma? No! What happened to James Sirius and Albus Severus and Lily Luna?"

"…"

"…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

From afar, regretfully, you watch the Potters say their last farewells to their departing children. Five more minutes and the Hogwarts Express would leave Platform Nine and Three Quarters for the umpteenth time, and you're not there to witness the moment you so long yearned for.

You could've stayed quiet, you should've swallowed your complaints, but you let your temper control you; the shock of your "Epilogue" not happening ever robbed you of all common sense and you ended up hurting Harry's family. God, you created the kid! You should've known he'd react badly to such a transgression, but…

But.

You can still hear the end of your conversation; can still see the scowl on his face, the disappointment. ("Albus Severus? Why would I name a child of mine after the man that manipulated my life since I was a baby and the man that tormented me and my friend during six years? I'm not saying Dumbledore or Snape were bad, per se. But forgive me for not worshiping the floor they used to walk on; they weren't exactly role models to me while I was growing up. I didn't care for Dumbledore that much. And Snape, while good, was still an arsehole.")

But it was his parting words what hurt the most.

"Now, I didn't want it to come to this, but kindly leave me and my family alone from now on."

You screwed it all up, royally.

Silently, you watch Hermione hugging all three children tightly while Harry looks on with an amused smile, little Lily perched safely in his arms. Finally, James manages to free himself and bumping fists with Harry, jump into the train as the whistle goes off, blowing a kiss to his pouting mother. Kissing each twin on the cheek Mrs Potter finally lets them go. Alex repeats his brother's gesture with his father and jumps on the train; he too blows a kiss to his mother. Rose is more considerate of Hermione, and kisses her cheek goodbye before doing the same to Harry; she, too, jumps into the train just as it starts moving.

Harry wraps an arm around his wife's waist, kissing her temple as she tries valiantly to hold her tears; watching one's children go is never easy. Hermione hugs him back, waving at their children with her free hand. Little Lily is much more enthusiastic in her waving, even though you suspect she'll be in tears as soon as they reach their home.

You see them gather in a small group of friends from their years in Hogwarts, all talking animatedly as they all make plan to get together sometime. Probably, you can't be sure as you're not that close. So many familiar faces. Yet you can get any closer because the news of you foolish mistake spread like wildfire across the platform as soon as the Potters left to find their kids. Everybody knows what happened, what you said, and no one wants to talk to you for hurting the family of the Chosen One.

One by one, the friends start to leave. Ron Weasley and his wife being the last. After Luna Love-Longbottom, after Luna Longbottom walks away, Ron embraces his friends and gives a nod to confirm whatever the agreement was. Then he, too, leaves.

Harry and Hermione walk slowly in your direction, but they're not paying attention to you, something completely unintentional, their whole focus is on the little girl now walking between them and holding on to their hands. You catch the end of their conversation before the cross the gate.

"Okay, okay. We'll go buy you an owl now and then take you to get some ice cream."

As the Potters fade from sight, you turn to look at the train, long gone now. The only visible thing of it is the steam raising in the sky, but no matter how hard you wanted, the sight does not bring you calm. It saddens you.

"Everything's ruined now."

It really is. The final book will be released the next day, you cannot change the end now. You won't. No one in this universe knows about the books, and only Harry knows the true behind its existence and he won't tell. You realize with a stark clarity that, just because the main characters in this universe failed to follow expectations, it doesn't mean you have to bend over backwards to change your Happy Ending. You can still have it and the fans will be none the wiser.

Your world will read the book and love it, and you… you'll just have to forget about the universe where you met Harry Potter. And then, maybe, this will become just an awful nightmare. Maybe, someday, you'll start to believe that your Epilogue is the real Happily Ever After and not this reality you stumbled upon.

The reality where the could-have-gone-that-way actually went that way.

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End.

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Soooo, comments are welcome!!

Did I manage to keep the secret of Harry's wife long enough? Or was I too obvious? I think I was, meh. Anyway! Until next time!

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