A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.
Maybe months go by, maybe years from now.
And I meet someone, and it's workin' out.
Every now and then, he can see right through
'Cause when I look at him
Yeah, all I see is you.
What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes
And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye?
And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?
What if I never get over you?
~What If I never Get Over You? by Lady A
/\/ <3 /\/ 15th October 2002 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry washed his hands in the portable sink station as the sun hung low over the village in southern Mexico, and little John, who he had just healed of ringworm, with a fresh bandage on his arm, ran back toward his mother. He turned around once to wave before his mother took his hand.
Harry returned the wave, watching them leave.
"Great work, Healer Potter," Victoria said as she stepped up beside him.
"Thank you, Healer Sayer," Harry said as he opened a bottle of water and took a long drink. "You did well helping that little girl earlier. She stopped crying the moment you started talking to her."
Victoria brushed her hair back. "Makes me think of my little girl."
Harry looked at her, surprised. "You have a daughter?"
Victoria nodded. "Si. She's at home with my husband." Harry followed her eyes as she looked across the square, and his eyes fell onto Melinda. "Any serious relationship for you?"
Harry shook his head. "No. I mean… Melinda and I ran into each other again in Texas when she signed on with us. We're getting to know each other. We hang out-"
Victoria grinned. "And go to dinner together, Potter, my amigo. You are dating her." She patted his shoulder.
Harry laughed, running his hand through his sweaty hair. "Dating? I don't know. I don't think it's that simple between us."
Victoria looked between the two of them. "I know you are a man who has yet to move on. But you can't continue to carry her here when she is all the way across the ocean."
Harry stood still as Victoria left the tent, watching Melinda as she handed out supplies to families. Sighing, his thoughts tugged back across the ocean, across the years to Hermione.
~*~ 26th October 2002 ~*~
The air smelled of wet leaves as children in costumes ran through the street from house to house. Porch lights glowed as pumpkins flickered at front doors.
Hermione smiled as Rosella skipped ahead with Annie, their princess dresses glittering beneath the streetlamps. Rosella had even shared one of her tiaras with Annie, and Rosella's bucket was nearly full of candy.
"I'm so glad that Annie has found a friend," Annie's mother, Mackenzie, said as she adjusted her witch hat as they watched their two girls hold hands, their little shoes clicking on the pavement.
Hermione smiled, pulling her coat closer to herself. "Rosella is a social butterfly. Where she got that from, I have no clue. Neither me nor her father, that's for sure."
Mackenzie glanced at her. "Is he joining us?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, he's… not in the picture."
Mackenzie nodded, "None of my business."
Hermione sighed as she watched Rosella shout "thank you" to a neighbor handing out sweets as they moved onto the next house. "It's not that. We were friends in school and dated very briefly. I didn't even realize I was pregnant until… we left school. By the time I knew, he'd already taken off. He's a doctor, and he's traveling with Doctors Without Borders."
Mackenzie exhaled. "That sucks, but it's admirable. So, you've been raising her on your own?"
Hermione nodded. "Our best friend, her godfather, and his family has become our second family. And I have my parents. But yes, for the most part, I'm a single parent."
Ahead of them, Rosella and Annie squealed as they were given full-size chocolate bars by a woman dressed as the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz.
"They look so happy," Mackenzie said.
Hermione bit her lip as Rosella spun around. "She is happy. That's what matters."
Rosella ran up to them, "Mumma, why did that lady have a green face and a thing on her nose?"
Hermione glanced back at the house, "She is dressed as the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz."
Rosella looked at her, confused, "Why would a witch look like that? She looked more like a hag."
Hermione picked Rosella up, "Now I think we've collected enough candy for today. I think it's time to tell Annie goodbye."
Rosella squirmed out of her arms and hugged Annie, "Goodbye, best friend!"
"Goodnight, best friend. See you at school!" Annie replied.
Hermione smiled as she picked Rosella back up, "Mackenzie, we will have to do this again, with less sugar next time."
"Definitely," Mackenzie said as she headed toward their house.
"Mumma, are vampires real?" Rosella asked, seeing someone dressed as one walk by.
"Yes," Hermione said quietly.
"I want to be a vampire," Rosella stated, "Are werewolves real too?"
Hermione smiled, "Yes, and I knew one. He was one of my teachers at Hogwarts and was your Daddy's Uncle."
Rosella looked at her wide-eyed, "Reallys?"
"Really," Hermione said, thinking about Remus, "He was a wonderful man. I wish he could have met you."
As they neared their house, Rosella laid her head on Hermione's shoulder. "So… not all monsters are bad?"
Hermione kissed her cheek. "Sometimes the people who look the scariest are the gentlest of all."
~*~ 16th November 2002 ~*~
The bell above the door jingled as another customer entered on a busy day at the Lily Pad. Hermione adjusted the scarf around her neck as she slid a bag full of purchased books across the counter. Rosella sat on her stool beside her, paper was spread across the surface, her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she snipped the paper carefully with a pair of children's scissors.
Each snip sent more tiny pieces of paper tumbling onto the growing pile, smaller than the increasing pile of 'snowflakes' that Rosella was making. "These are for my Mumma's windows," Rosella would explain to customers who would ask.
"She is making the shop ready for Christmas," Hermione would tell them fondly as she bagged their purchases.
The line was thankfully steady as people came to buy the latest Nicholas Sparks release. A kind witch with silver hair smiled at Rosella as she waited, "Do you like school, dear?"
Rosella nodded. "Yes! My best friend is Annie. We played dollhouse, and we had pumpkin muffins last week, and they were gross."
Another man chuckled as Rosella held up her snowflake, "We learned how to make snowflakes, too!"
"They are so pretty, it will make your Mum's windows look so nice," he told her.
Rosella smiled with pride as she continued cutting, as Hermione finished up with the witch and the man, and the line started to finally thin.
A man with his daughter, only a year or so older than Rosella, was her next customer. The child put her book on the counter. "Look what my daddy is buying me."
"I love that book," Rosella grinned as she held out a snowflake, "Here I made this for you."
The little girl took it and clutched it to her chest. "Thank you!"
Her father fluffed her hair and smiled at Hermione as she checked out their purchase.
After the rush was over, the shop grew quiet. Only the sound of scissors snipping filled the room until Rosella set them down, and her green eyes looked to Hermione. "Mumma, why is Daddy not around?"
Hermione's breath caught, and she choked on her own saliva, coughing hard enough that her eyes watered. "So… sorry, what?"
Rosella leaned her elbows on the counter, looking toward the door. "Why isn't Daddy around? He was at the hospital, but then he left."
Hermione froze, staring at her. "What do you mean, he was at the hospital? Daddy is traveling to become a better doctor."
Rosella's eyes met hers. "I saws him, I saws him at the hospital. He has my eyes."
Hermione sat down hard on the second stool, her knees nearly giving out. "He does," she whispered.
Rosella jumped down and climbed up onto her lap, burying her head under Hermione's chin. "Why did he leave?"
Hermione wrapped her arms around her daughter, trying to hide the sting in her eyes. "I don't know, honey. I wish I knew."
The house was quiet as Hermione laid in Rosella's bed, running her fingers through her curls. She had been asleep for at least the last ten minutes, and Hermione had just been watching her. Her little arms were curled around her stuffed kneazle, Crookshanks sleeping at the foot of her bed. Strands of her hair were already stuck to her cheeks as she snored. Hermione tucked her blanket tighter around, pressing a kiss on her forehead before she tiptoed out of her room.
Walking down to her office, Hermione moved to her desk, dropping into her chair with a sigh. Her pile of parchment was where she had left it, and she smoothed out the top piece of paper.
Harry,
I am so tired. Tired of fighting against myself, against my feelings for you.
Rosella said she saw you at St. Mungo's. She told me tonight. Angelina said you were there, and you couldn't even stay? Why didn't you? Why couldn't you?
She knows who you are, Harry. She knows that she has your eyes. She's four, and more clever than even me. She asks questions I don't know how to answer. I shouldn't have to keep pretending that you are just away.
If you don't come home for me, then come for her. She deserves more than your absence.
Our address is 154 Orchard Hill Lane, Stinchcombe, UK. And if you don't want to write, call me. My mobile number is (0792)010-3953. Please, I am begging you, reach out.
She sat back, biting her lip as she copied the letter for her journal, then folded the letter before she could lose her nerve. Tying it on her owl's leg, she opened the window.
"Go to Harry," she whispered, "Poke the hell out of his fingers until he reads it."
The owl vanished into the night as Hermione shut the window and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging the glass beneath her. "Please, Harry," she murmured.
Dropping back into her desk chair, she laid her head back as exhaustion washed over her. When the alarm of her floo bell went off, it startled her.
Hermione hurried downstairs, her heart thumping with her wand in hand, only to see a familiar face within the flames.
"Charlie?" she gasped, dropping to her knees, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," he said quickly, "I just… I felt for some reason that I needed to check on you."
Hermione bit her lip as tears tried to come to her eyes. Coming to her feet, she stepped back, "Come on through."
Charlie stepped out of the flames, brushing the soot from his jumper. He gave her a look and opened his arms. Hermione hesitated for only a moment before she stepped into them, clutching onto his shirt as the tears fell from her eyes.
~*~ 25th December 2002 ~*~
The smell of Molly's turkey roasting in the oven filled the air as fairy lights twinkled on the Christmas tree. Hermione watched Fleur reach for a gift for Victoire, her rounded belly brushing against Victoire's cup of milk, knocking it over.
Rosella skipped from person to person, her curls bouncing behind her, barely holding up her tiara on her head. A tiara with a Santa's hat attached from Charlie. She was singing Christmas carols at the top of her little voice as she carried packages to everyone. "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingling all the way!" she sang as she dropped a wrapped box in front of George, who pulled her into his lap, making her giggle.
Bill leaned over the sofa, handing a bottle to Charlie, who was sitting beside Hermione.
"Thanks, man," Charlie said as he twisted off the cap.
Bill squeezed Hermione's shoulder gently, "How are you doing, Hermione?"
She smiled. "Not too bad. December was the best month for the shop, by far. People wanted books and cocoa, and we had plenty of both."
Rosella skipped over, plopping a tissue-papered package into Charlie's lap, "Here, Uncle Charlie! A present from me!"
Charlie set his bottle down and grinned. "But you gave me your present when you brought it home last week."
Rosella wrinkled her nose. "That was last week's present, silly! This is today's present!" She scrambled up onto his lap and kissed his cheek with an audible kiss. "I made you another one to give you with everyone else."
Charlie chuckled as she climbed back down and unwrapped a handprint ornament painted into the shape of a Christmas tree. He held it up proudly. "Look at this! It's the best gift I've ever gotten!"
George held up his own, "Look, we match! We're twins!"
Rosella folded her arms over her chest, "Uncle George, everyone got one." Charlie grabbed her, pulling her back on his lap, and she laid her head on Charlie's chest.
Ron watched from across the room, where he sat with Luna, frowning as his eyes flicked between Hermione and Charlie. "Charlie, when were you in town?"
Charlie glanced at him. "I've been coming into town on weekends, checking on Hermione and Rose."
Ron blinked. "Checking on them? Are you two… dating?"
Hermione's eyes widened, nearly choking on her cider. "No! Of course not." She glanced at Charlie, "Sorry, Charlie, that sounded awful. What I mean is, no. Charlie came by when I was having a rough day last month, and he's just been kind enough to check in with us."
Charlie chuckled, slinging his arm over Hermione's shoulders. "None taken. Besides, Hermione isn't my type. She's not tall, dark, and handsome."
The room was quiet for a moment before Molly walked over, gathering discarded wrapping paper. "Why didn't you bring Michel, dear?"
Charlie took a sip of his beer. "He's spending the week with his family."
Ron's frown deepened. "Wait… Michel? As in a man?"
"Yes," Charlie said, looking at Ron, "Why? Do you have a problem with that?"
Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish before he shook his head quickly. "Not at all… It's just…" he trailed off, his eyes wide. "Oh, my Merlin. It suddenly makes sense!"
George leaned forward, "What does?"
Ron threw his hands up, "All those summers when Keith was over! Or why Charlie went to the dragon reserve with Keith instead of playing Quidditch. Merlin's beard, it all makes sense now!"
Everyone laughed as Molly swatted Ron's shoulder.
Charlie grinned as he raised his bottle, smirking as he tipped it to Ron. "Glad my love life is finally clear to you, little brother."
Arthur bent down to pick up the last unopened gift that had been pushed back behind the tree. "What's this? I thought we'd gone through everything."
Molly's face fell. "Oh, Arthur… I was trying to hide that."
Arthur adjusted his glasses, looking at her. "Who's it from?"
Molly hesitated, her eyes looking toward Hermione. "It's from Harry."
Hermione's chest tightened. "He… sent something?"
"There was only a postcard from Costa Rica," Molly said as Arthur lifted the lid.
"It's filled with sweets for the family," Arthur stated as he reached deeper. "And this is for Hermione… and this is for Rose."
Hermione accepted the small boxes from Arthur, and Rosella took hers, ripping it open.
"Look, Mumma!" she squealed, lifting out a beaded necklace with turquoise beads and glittering beads, along with a dress with tiny silver flowers and beads. "Daddy got me jewelry and a pretty dress!" Jumping up, her tiara slid to the floor as she tried to tug the dress on over her jumper.
The family laughed, but Hermione slowly opened her own box. Inside was a folded piece of shrunken fabric. She pulled it out, and it was handwoven, its scent unique. Beneath it was a note in Harry's handwriting.
This is a handmade hammock. I'm sure you have two trees that you can put it between. I can see you lying on it reading, so I had to get it for you. Happy Christmas.
Hermione bit her lip, her throat burning, as she glanced at Rosella, who was twirling around in her beaded dress. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric in her hand as she thought of the wrapped gift for Harry waiting under her own tree at home.
Charlie's arm slipped over her shoulders again, and she leaned into his warmth as she watched Rosella spin in circles.
~*~ 17th January 2003 ~*~
Hermione yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the café, then glanced back into the kitchen, where Lucy was. "Lucy, I'm heading upstairs."
Lucy glanced up from where she was jotting something on the stock ledger. "You okay?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips. "My office is a mess, and we've got the big order coming in next week. I need to clear it up before the paperwork buries me alive. Who knows? Maybe I'll even find some money that I've hidden from myself."
Lucy laughed, "If you do, split it with me?"
"Deal," Hermione said as she left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the chaos of her office.
Piles of parchment, ledgers from months past, her journal, and stacks of books that she had purchased with the intent to read, but had never found time to, littered the desk.
Grabbing a spare book, she began to sort. Budgets were placed in the file holder for her cabinet, along with invoices and ledgers. One by one, Hermione looked at the books to take home, seeing if they would be more likely to be on her bedside table or her bookshelves.
Halfway through the stack, she stilled with a book in her hand. It was an older edition of E.E. Cummings. Its spine was cracked, showing its age. Frowning, she didn't remember buying this book. Curious, she opened it up, flipping through the pages to see if she'd left the receipt inside.
Instead, something fluttered loose. A folded piece of parchment pressed between two pages. Setting the book down, still open, she smoothed it open.
Dear Hermione,
I came across this book and had to send it to you. I am tired of running. I am tired of fighting with my heart. I know you are with Ron, but if you'll have me, I will come home.
You see, Hermione, I am still in love with you. I never stopped.
I plan to be in New York for the next two months, from March until May. In May, I will visit Ilvermorny until September, when the weather turns. From there, I will move to Texas and into Mexico. I am going to start traveling with a group called Healers Without Borders. But if you will have me, I will leave it all behind.
My heart is yours if you will have it.
Love, Harry.
Hermione gasped, the letter slipping from her grasp, falling to her desk. Looking back at the book, the open page where the note had been tucked had the poem "I carry your heart with me."
Swallowing hard, she sank into the chair, her legs suddenly numb. "I don't understand," she whispered.
She stood again, pacing. The parchment in her hand as she read it and re-read it multiple times as if each additional read would find a hidden explanation. "This doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't make sense?"
Hermione jumped, clutching her chest to find Luna standing in the doorway. Blinking at her, she held the parchment out for her. "I found this book… and it had a note inside."
Luna came over, accepting the letter. Her eyes moved across the page, then she smiled. "I've been telling you that there are some misunderstandings going on. This proves it. He still loves you, Hermione. I never doubted it."
Hermione bit her lip, "But I wrote him, Luna. I gave him our address. I gave him my mobile number. He hasn't reached out."
Luna handed the parchment back to her. "Then try again."
Hermione clutched the letter to her chest, nodding. "I will."
~*~ 15th February 2003 ~*~
"Tea, ma'am?"
Hermione blinked, looking up at the bridal shop attendant, who was offering a teapot toward her cup, "I am good. Thank you."
"Where were you? You were a million miles away," Angelina said, flipping through a bridal fashion magazine.
"Just thinking," Hermione told her.
Luna looked over at her, "So have you heard from him?"
Hermione shot her a look. "No."
Fleur frowned, looking between them, "Heard from who?"
"Harry wrote a love letter to Hermione and sent it in a book. The problem is that she didn't find it in her office until nearly a year later," Luna told them.
"He did what?!" Angelina asked, surprised, setting her cup down, "Why didn't you tell us?"
Hermione bit her lip, looking down at her silver bridesmaid dress. "I didn't say anything about it, because something isn't right about the whole thing. He said he knew I was with Ron. I've told him countless times in letters that Ron and I aren't together."
Hermione glanced over at the two Harpies players, who were also bridesmaids with her and Luna, who were also wearing their silver dresses. They looked like supermodels compared to here, straight out of the bridal magazines. Even Luna could be in a magazine compared to her.
"Are you guys ready?" Ginny asked from the other side of the curtain.
"So ready!" Angelina yelled.
The curtain pulled back, and Ginny emerged from the dressing area wearing a long-sleeved lace wedding dress with a satin skirt. Behind her, Rosella stepped out, wearing a similar dress.
"Mumma! Look at my princess dress!"
Hermione smiled as Rosella twirled over to her.
"You look wonderful!" Hermione said, looking at Ginny, "And you look amazing."
Ginny looked at herself in the mirror, "Do you think Neville will like it?"
Luna smiled, "Neville would like you in anything, Ginny. This will knock him off his feet."
"Wait! Aunt Ginny, you forgot something," Rosella said, looking up to her.
Ginny looked down at her, "And what am I forgetting?"
"A tiara, Aunt Ginny. You have to have a tiara," Rosella told her.
Ginny laughed, "Of course."
The boutique attendant laughed as she took a box off the shelf and brought it over. "Well, Miss Weasley, would you like to try this one on?"
Rosella clapped her hands, "Yes! Try it on!"
Ginny grinned as the attendant placed the tiara on her head. "Oh Merlin, what do you think Rosie?"
Rosella grinned, "Now you're a real princess like me!"
Ginny looked at the attendant, "It's perfect."
"Great, let's go get you changed back," she said.
Angelina leaned closer to Hermione as they went back behind the curtain, "And you were dodging the question."
Hermione looked at her, "What question?"
"Harry," Angelina stated, "What are you going to do about him?"
Hermione bit her lip, "I don't know. I wrote to him, and it was written a year ago. What if it's too late?"
Luna sat down cross-legged on the chair, "Or he's just waiting for you to open the door."
~*~ 8th March 2003 ~*~
"Wow."
Hermione looked up after the door to the bridal boutique opened to find Ron carrying Rosella into the boutique, "There you are. I was getting worried."
"Well, the princess talked me into ice cream," Ron said sheepishly, looking at her and Luna, "You two are gorgeous."
Luna grinned as she walked over and kissed him, "Thank you, Ronald."
"Luna? Can you come here, please?" Ginny asked from behind the curtain.
"Coming!" Luna said as she went back behind the curtain.
"Oh, the princess is here!" One of the attendants said, holding out her hand, "We have you get you into your princess gown, Miss Rose."
Rosella happily followed her, leaving Hermione alone with Ron.
"You look wonderful, Hermione," Ron told her.
Hermione hugged him, "Thank you, Ron."
"Well, well… isn't this adorable?"
Hermione pivoted around and saw the woman in front of her. "Rita. It's been forever, and you haven't aged a day. I guess you've learned anti-aging charms or discovered Muggle Botox."
"And I see that you are still a little bitch," Rita stated, "Now that you are of age, I can call you that."
Hermione noticed the photographer for the first time. "I don't consent to photos, and neither does Ginny."
"Good thing, I took them on the public street, then. Do you have a comment? I think the headline will be Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley finally tying the knot?" Rita stated with a grin.
Hermione walked up to Rita, making her step back. "You lying piece of scum. You know that isn't the truth."
"But readers love a piece of juicy gossip," Rita stated, "Especially now that I write for Witch Weekly."
"Out, Rita!" Ron said as he walked over and opened the door.
Rita rolled her eyes. "Fine."
Hermione growled as soon as she left. "I should have squashed her while I had the chance."
Ron shut the door behind her. "Merlin, I can't stand her."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "She hasn't changed since our fourth year. You'd think she would have learned after getting fired from the Prophet. Still twisting words like a vulture."
Ron looked out the window. "If she prints Ginny in her dress-"
"She can't. Ginny never came out in her dress," Hermione told him as she pulled the curtains closed on the windows to be safe.
"Alright, everyone," Ginny announced as she emerged in her gown, tiara on her head. "What do we think?"
"Shite," Ron said as he walked over to her, "When did you grow up? Where is my baby sister?"
Ginny walked over and pulled herself up with his shoulder, kissing his cheek, "Marrying before you do," she said with a grin.
"Just rub it in," Ron stated, rolling his eyes.
"Ronald is just waiting until the right time," Luna stated, "He already has a ring picked out."
Ron looked at her wide-eyed, "How do you know that?"
Luna winked as she helped Ginny with the train of her dress.
Hermione walked over to Ron, "You do?"
"I haven't bought it yet, I'm saving up," Ron hissed, "I don't know how she knows that though."
Hermione laughed, "It's Luna."
/\/ <3 /\/ 12th March 2003 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry stepped out of the apothecary and inhaled the clean air that being so close to the Amazon rainforest brought. Tucking his wrapped parcel of herbs into his inner pocket, he glanced down the street. The wizarding district outside of Castelobruxo was bustling on the warm day. Vendors shouted for customers to buy their wares as children darted around on their Fall break.
A small bookshop caught his eye next to the cauldron shop, and Harry couldn't resist. He hadn't purchased a book on Brazilian medicine yet and hoped inside he would find the right text.
Inside the shop, memories of Flourish and Blotts came back. Nodding at the shopkeeper, he walked past to find the medical texts when a splash of colour caught his eye.
There on the magazine stand was Hermione on the cover of Witch Weekly International. Above her picture, "A Golden Wedding " was in bold, gold letters. Beneath it, the subheading: What will the Weasley wedding be? Flashy? Or a Star-Studded Spectacle?
Harry reached for the copy. On the glossy cover, Hermione wore a silver gown. Beautiful and elegant, her arms looped around Ron's neck as he grinned down at her. Ron's hand was on her back, making Harry's throat tighten.
Swallowing hard, he looked at the words, hoping that they'd change.
"There you are. Find something interesting?"
Harry spun around. Melinda stood there, her hair pulled back loosely, her tan skin showing, peering at his hand. "I…" his voice caught, clearing his throat, he took a breath. "I guess Ron and Hermione are getting married."
Melinda took the magazine from his hands, flipping it open, scanning the pictures. "Hmmm, looks like it will be quite the event," she said as she shut the magazine. "And you didn't get an invitation?"
Harry shook his head robotically, "No. In fact, I haven't heard from either of them in ages."
Melinda set the magazine back on the rack, then took his hand. "Harry, honey, you were school friends. School friends grow apart. It happens." She sighed. "You said that they had a daughter, right? Obviously, there was a chance they would get married eventually."
Harry's jaw tightened. "Yeah, you're right."
~*~ 12th March 2003 ~*~
"Mumma, are you marrying, Uncle Ron?"
Hermione's neck popped as she jerked her head so fast to look at Rosella, making her grab her neck. "What?"
"The lady in the café was talking, and she said that you were marrying Uncle Ron," Rosella said, her eyes wide.
Hermione felt her blood pressure spike. "No, honey. It's just someone being silly," she said with a forced smile as she marched over and picked up a copy of Witch Weekly that had been laid down in the café, "Idiots, breaking the statue of…" she trailed off as she saw herself on the cover with a misleading headline. Hermione took a shaky breath, leaned down, and kissed Rosella's curls as she made eye contact with Misty, "Stay with Misty."
Rosella looked at her. "Where are you going?"
"To squash a bug," Hermione muttered, marching toward her office.
Moments later, she threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace. "Witch Weekly Headquarters!"
Stepping out of the floo into a reception hall, the young receptionist glanced up, then went pale. "Miss Granger!"
"I want your editor, now," Hermione snapped.
The receptionist squeaked. "He's very busy."
"Not that busy," Hermione snapped back, as she barreled through the doors into the writers' bullpen. Quills paused as several writers froze.
"Where is the editor?" Hermione's voice rang through the room.
A wizard with thinning hair leaned out of his office, looking smug. "Miss Granger? Well, hello and welcome."
Hermione stalked up to him, snatching a copy of Witch Weekly off a nearby desk and slamming it into his chest. "We both know this is a load of utter bullshit. I want a retraction."
"Now, Miss Granger," he said as he tucked the magazine under his arm. "There is a Weasley wedding that is going to be had."
Hermione's anger flared. "Yes, Ginny's, to Neville Longbottom. Not me, not Ron. And you bloody well know that. You let Skeeter spin her lies for sales, and now my four-year-old thinks I am marrying her godfather!"
The editor dared to laugh. "Readers love a bit of juicy gossip. It sells."
"Ask Rita what happens when you don't tell the truth. It's why she was fired from the Prophet," Hermione hissed.
"No, ma'am. She was fired because the new owner didn't like her version of the truth," he stated.
Hermione looked at him, "I know her secret. The secret that I know you probably know as well."
His face faltered for a moment. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Sure, you don't. I could go to the Ministry," Hermione stated.
The editor cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could print a clarification."
Hermione inched closer to him, "You will print the truth. It's Ginny's wedding, not mine, or so help me I will have this magazine pulled out of my bookshop and Flourish and Blotts as well."
The man swallowed, "Front page. Yes… We can arrange that."
"Good," Hermione said as she stalked back to the floo.
~*~ 19th April 2003 ~*~
The Longbottom property had been transformed into something like a dream. The greenhouses shimmered under fairy lights and charms. The domed ceiling glowed as the evening fell. Rows of roses and other flowers curled overhead in arches, creating a breathtaking scene and a fragrant venue.
Hermione walked down the aisle first. Her arm looped through Ron's. Smiling at the familiar faces looking back at them. Her silver gown shimmered in the light as Luna appeared with Dean, then the two teammates appeared with two other Quidditch players whose identities Hermione had no clue about.
Rosella appeared before Ginny, skipping down the aisle, scattering petals high over her head, looking like a tiny fairy in her dress and tiara, with Victoire following.
Then Ginny appeared. Hermione looked at Neville to see his jaw drop as his eyes locked on her, looking at her as if nothing else in the world existed. The ceremony was short, nearly the same as Bill and Fleur's. By the end of it, Hermione had tears streaming down her cheeks as she blotted her eyes behind her bouquet.
Thanks to the twins, the reception was filled with laughter, jokes, dancing, and too much alcohol. Way too much. Hermione watched Rosella twirl around the dance floor with nearly everyone, living her best life.
Later, Hermione had to coax her back home before the party was over and after a quick bath to remove the Sleekeazy from her hair, Rosella lay in bed, her eyes wide, still wired from the day, but blinking against her exhaustion.
"Mumma," she whispered against Hermione's stomach.
"Yes, love?" Hermione asked, rubbing her back.
Rosella yawned, "Mumma, will you ever get married like Aunt Ginny?"
Hermione froze, then brushed a curl from Rosella's forehead. "Maybe someday, Rose."
Rosella sighed, her tiny hand clutching Hermione's shirt. "I hope so. You'd look like a princess, too."
Hermione moved down to pull Rosella into her arms as she finally started drifting off to sleep. "Sleep now, my little princess."
Gently pulling herself away, Hermione walked downstairs to find Ron, Luna, and Charlie all talking. Ron looked up at her as she entered the sitting room, "She finally went to sleep?"
Hermione sighed as she sat down next to him. "Took her forever. I blame George. He kept giving her grape juice."
Ron tapped her leg with an envelope. "We were just discussing this."
Hermione took the envelope and opened it. "You're cordially invited to the Remembrance Ball commemorating the fifth anniversary of the end of the Blood Wars."
Charlie scoffed. "Anniversary."
Hermione glanced at Ron and Luna. "Are you thinking of going?"
"Kingsley came up to me at the reception and basically told me that I didn't have a choice. He wanted me there as a spokesperson for the DA," Ron stated.
Hermione frowned, "I never received anything."
Ron shrugged, "I guess it is more for both of us then."
Hermione looked over it again.
"Are you going to go?" Luna asked.
Hermione looked at her. "Only if I can get someone to watch Rosella."
"I can watch her," Charlie said as he put the footrest up in the recliner, and three sets of eyes turned on him. "What? She loves me, and I'll keep her entertained."
Hermione shook her head. "You spoil her rotten. If my parents can't watch her, you can."
Ron stretched his legs out. "Honestly, Hermione. You need to come. People have ignored your part in the war for too long. Now that you are back on the good side of everyone, they should honour you."
Luna smiled. "And maybe, answers will be found. They have a habit of showing up when we're willing to go to uncomfortable places."
"Very philosophical, Luna," Hermione said, tapping the invitation to her hand. "Fine, I'll go."
/\/ <3 /\/ 21st April 2003 /\/ <3 /\/
"Lord Potter, did you know about the Remembrance Ball that is happening back in England?"
Harry froze, quill in his hand as he looked up at Quinn, his goblin banker, and frowned. "What Remembrance Ball?"
Quinn leaned back in his chair, "My cousin in England tells me that the Ministry is hosting a grand event. Donors, fundraising, speeches. A commemoration of the Blood Wars. I would think that your attendance would have been… expected."
Harry's throat tightened. "I wasn't aware."
Quinn's dark eyes swept over him. "Aren't you planning to return soon?"
"The end of next month," Harry stated.
"Or," Quinn said, "You could move that up. There is business in England that you've been postponing for far too long. Potter holdings. Black interests. We can only do so much for you here. Some matters require your presence, Lord Potter."
Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks for letting me know."
Once outside Gringotts, the humid air of the Brazilian village surrounded him as he walked the narrow cobblestone street, past stalls with fruit and herbs, until he reached the small, rented house that had been his home since he had reached Brazil.
The scent of broth met him as he stepped inside.
"I was wondering when you'd come back," Melinda called from the kitchen. "Just in time. I was making soup. Want some?"
"Sure," Harry said, heading to the sink to wash his hands.
Together they sat at the wooden table, and Harry stirred his bowl absentmindedly.
"Something bothering you?" Melinda asked.
Harry looked up at her, "I might return to England early. There is a Remembrance Ball, and I think I want to attend."
Melinda set her spoon down. "You're going back?"
Harry nodded. "I told you that I would eventually."
She stood, and he watched her cross the room. "I just thought we had more time."
"My contract ended last month," Harry said softly. "I just stayed, maybe I have been running."
"From Hermione," Melinda stated.
Harry's jaw tightened, and she came around the table, kneeling on the floor beside him. "Then marry me."
Harry choked on air. "What?"
"Marry me," she leaned close, resting her hands on his knee. "You're going back to a place of ghosts. To a woman who broke your heart and is now either married or is marrying your best friend. Marry me instead."
Harry frowned, "We've only been together a few months."
"Since December," she stated, folding her arms in a way that drew his eyes to her chest. "You can't blame a girl for wanting to hold onto the man she loves. Or wanting to get him into her bed."
Harry pushed his chair back. "I'm not marrying you just to sleep with you."
Melinda rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you don't even have to buy a ring. I have my mother's. Let me come with you. We'll see how it goes in England."
Harry stared at her, "Fine. You can come with me."
Melinda's grin grew. "I cannot wait to see where you grew up."
~*~ 2nd May 2003 ~*~
Hermione looked up as the buzz from the lounge door sounded, and Luna slipped in, her earrings shaped like tiny phoenix feathers hanging from her ears. "Hey, Luna. How are things over in the pet shop?"
"Great," Luna said, her eyes bright. "Nearly all the animals are adopted. Just a few older dogs and an older cat are left.
"That's wonderful," Hermione smiled.
"Are you going to the Remembrance Ball tomorrow?" Luna asked.
Hermione nodded. "Are you and Ron?"
"Of course. I want to show off my man," Luna grinned, "Plus, I hope to meet the Ministry's Magical Creatures Committee head. I've spoken with a few of the lower officials, but not the lead wizard. He's the one who could finally permit me to bring magical creatures into the shop. If I can impress him, maybe I could shut the store down for a week from Muggles for an official adoption event. If not, Ron said I could use the Hogsmeade shop as a pop-up before they start moving things into it. He's so supportive."
Hermione smiled. "That sounds incredible, Luna. I hope they listen to you."
"Thank you," Luna said as she drifted back toward the lounge, then suddenly stopped, "Oh! What are you wearing?"
Hermione glanced up from her ledger. "I figured I'd just wear my dress from Ginny and Neville's wedding. I hate spending money on a fancy outfit and only wearing it once."
Luna grinned. "Great idea. I'll play with my dress a little then. Are you changing yours?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, so feel free to change yours however you want."
"Ooh, maybe I'll add stars mine if you are going simple," Luna said as she exited through the lounge.
Hermione chuckled. "Of course you will."
Glancing behind her at the calendar, she sighed. It had been five years. Five years since the war had ended, nearly five years since she had seen Harry.
Biting her lip, she sighed. "Time to face the music."
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
The moment Harry's feet touched the familiar cobbled street, the London air heavy with rain around him brought back memories. Beside him, Melinda frowned, smoothing down her hair, "My hair isn't going to like this humidity."
Harry pulled his battered duffel bag, a gift from Hermione many Christmases ago, higher onto his shoulder.
"This is where your house is?" she asked, looking at the townhouses.
"Well, not really. When I am back home, this is where I stay," he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Harry Potter lives at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
Melinda gasped as a soot-covered house slid into view.
"Come on," Harry said as he started climbing the familiar stone steps. He rang the doorbell with a grin. "You used to not be able to do that."
Melinda frowned as the door opened. "Why couldn't you ring the doorbell?"
"Because my hag of an aunt was haunting the place. Her portrait, anyway."
The warmth of the lamplight spilled onto the steps. "Harry," Andromeda greeted warmly, pulling him into a hug. "Welcome home. Come in, come in."
Harry exhaled as the weight of everything suddenly fell off his shoulders. "It's good to see you, Andi." He glanced at Melinda. "This is Melinda. Melinda, this is Andromeda Tonks."
Before Melinda could answer, a thunder of footsteps echoed from the staircase.
"UNCLE HARRY!"
"Teddy!" Harry dropped his bag just in time to catch a blue-haired missile as he launched himself into his arms. Teddy's hair was a vivid blue, with a grin so wide Harry was worried his face was going to crack.
"You're home!" Teddy cheered, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.
Harry laughed, hugging him back. "I am. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes!" Teddy yelled, making Melinda flinch at the volume. Teddy's eyes turned to her, shifting suddenly from his hazel to Harry's own shade of emerald. "Who is she?"
"Teddy Lupin! That was rude," Andromeda said, shutting the door.
Teddy rolled his eyes. "Hi, I'm Teddy Lupin."
Melinda smiled at him. "I'm Melinda. Nice to meet you."
Teddy stared at her before turning back to Harry. "Wait till you see the broom Gram got me!"
Harry laughed as he set him down. "We'll go flying soon. Promise."
"Let's let you two get settled," Andromeda said, "I put you in Sirius's room, and Melinda, I prepared Regulus's room. There is stew in the kitchen when you are ready for it."
"Thanks, Andi," Harry said as he motioned for Melinda to go first. He couldn't help but notice the way Melinda looked at the dark hallway, her nose wrinkling at the old wallpaper. Andi had done her best at scrubbing and charming the old place back to be livable, but it still had an edge to it. "This is our floor," Harry told her when they reached the fourth floor.
"Finally," Melinda grumbled as Harry opened the door to Regulus's old room for her.
"This is your room," Harry told her.
Melinda frowned, "Where will you be?"
Harry walked over to Sirius's old room and opened the door. "Over here."
Melinda glanced in and frowned, "It seems old."
Harry sighed, "This was my uncle's old room. Andi revamped Regulus's room, but I asked her to leave this one alone."
Melinda looked at him, "I hoped we'd share a room."
Harry shook his head, "Not with Teddy in the house. Go ahead and freshen up."
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry padded down the stairs as quietly as possible, trying not to wake the other members of the house. After lying in bed for over an hour, he gave up on sleep. His mind was restless, worried about tomorrow.
Reaching the kitchen, a glow spilled from the doorway as he entered. Andromeda sat at the table with a cup between her hands, smiling as if she had expected him. "Can't sleep?"
Harry walked the length of the table, trailing his fingers along the scarred wood. So many meals had been shared here by the Order. Sirius… Hermione… Ron. His throat tightened. "No."
Andromeda summoned a second cup and set it beside her chair. "Have a seat."
Harry pulled out the chair and sat down heavily. "Thanks," he muttered, pouring himself tea from the kettle. His hands wrapped around the mug, grounding him.
Andromeda watched him over the rim of her cup. "Worried about tomorrow?"
Harry met her eyes, then nodded. "I'm going into it, honestly hoping no one even recognizes me. You're the only one who knows I'm back."
She set her cup down and leaned back into her chair. "Harry… Hermione hasn't written to you in ages. There's no use pining for her when it's obvious she isn't interested anymore."
Harry ran his hand down his face with one hand, his palm pressing against his tired eyes. Even after corrective surgery years ago, he still had the old habit of reaching for his glasses. "I guess I'm a glutton for punishment. Walking in there and seeing her and Ron… probably fresh from their honeymoon, I'd imagine."
Andromeda barked out a laugh, making him look at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Harry frowned, blinking at her. "What do YOU mean?"
"Harry," Andromeda said slowly, "Hermione Granger marrying Ron Weasley? They haven't been together in years."
Her words hit him, knocking the breath from his chest. "What are you talking about? I saw they were preparing for their wedding just a few months ago!"
"Ginny got married," Andromeda corrected.
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Ginny… got married? To who?"
"Neville Longbottom," she told him as the thoughts raced through Harry's brain. "Harry, have you really thought all this time that Hermione was with Ron?"
~*~ 3rd May 2003 ~*~
"I'm running so behind," Hermione said, frantically trying to zip up her dress. "I shouldn't have started inventory today of all days."
"Here, sit," Briar Rose said as she came up behind her.
Hermione sat down and groaned, "Why did I decide to wear this dress robe? The corset was so tight at the wedding. I should have at least let it out a bit."
Briar Rose brushed her hair back into a sleek bun. "How is that?"
Hermione looked at her reflection, "Great."
Her mobile phone rang as it sat on her vanity, and she glanced at it to see it was Ron. "Hello?"
"Hermione, have you left yet?" Ron shouted.
"You don't have to yell, Ron," Hermione reminded him, "I'm getting ready to leave now. I'll be there in five minutes."
"I'll wait for you at the floo entrance," Ron yelled.
Hermione sighed as she set her phone down. "He can't figure out phones to save his life."
"Try to have fun tonight," Briar Rose told her.
Hermione smiled. "I will try, but it's been a while since I've been invited to these functions. I have a feeling I'll be leaving early."
"Just try to enjoy yourself," Briar Rose told her as they walked down the stairs together.
Hermione grabbed her clutch, "If you need me-"
"I'll owl you," Briar Rose stated, holding out Hermione's wrap, "Go on. You deserve a night where you don't have to think about bills, the shop, or Rose."
Hermione wrapped her wrap around her shoulders. "I'll probably still be thinking about all that."
"Then at least do it while dancing," Briar Rose teased, pushing her toward the fireplace.
Hermione bit her lip. "Thanks, Mum."
"Now go before Ron comes through screaming," Briar Rose told her.
Hermione laughed as she grabbed floo powder, "Ministry Atrium!"
Green flames roared up around her, and she stepped out to the familiar black glossy atrium of the Ministry, brushing soot from the shoulders of her dress robes before immediately turning to Ron, who had just stumbled out behind her, his tie askew.
"You can't show up to this Remembrance Gala looking like you got dressed in the dark," she muttered, tugging at the knot of his tie to straighten it.
"Quit it, Hermione," Ron said, brushing her hands away with a huff. "You know I hate it when you fuss like that."
She let out a soft sigh but said nothing. She smoothed the front of her robes instead.
Ron looked around the atrium, now transformed with golden drapes, twinkling lights, and floating candles for the occasion. An orchestra played a soft melody in the background as the wizarding elite gathered beneath banners that shimmered with the names of the fallen. "Do you see Luna?"
"She said she'd be here with Neville. She said she was planning to get here early to help him set up the floral arrangements," Hermione replied, scanning the crowd. "Might have gotten caught up with the Ministry's Magical Creatures Committee again."
Ron's gaze shifted around the room until he spotted Dean laughing near the refreshment table. "I see Dean and Ginny. Want anything to drink?"
"I'm good. Go ahead. I'll see if I can find George before it gets too crowded." Hermione informed him. "He's supposed to be my 'date' tonight since Charlie couldn't come."
Ron kissed the side of her head, his hand briefly resting on her back before he wandered off.
Hermione exhaled slowly, bracing herself. This was the first event for the Wizarding World in remembrance of the war. So many ghosts were in the room, literally and figuratively. So many memories before her, holding champagne flutes.
Her eyes drifted over the crowd, taking in the faces. Familiar and foreign. Suddenly, her brown eyes met a pair of green eyes across the room.
Her heart stopped.
Harry.
He was taller. Broader shoulders than when he left. His black hair was longer now, brushing past his jaw and wisping on his broader shoulders. His skin was tanned, sun-kissed, showing that he had a life far from England.
She didn't need a second glance to know it was him.
His lips parted when their eyes met. Across the room, she saw him mouth her name.
Before she could move, a woman stepped into view beside him. Elegant, beautiful, her hand slipped through his arm like it belonged there. The woman smiled up at him. A soft smile. The kind Hermione used to give him.
And then she saw it.
The glint of light on the woman's left hand.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen. The weight of the last five years pressed against her chest like the curse that had hit her years ago.
He was here. He was back… and he wasn't alone.
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry tugged at the collar of his newly purchased dress robes. The fabric was still stiff and uncomfortable, and he wished he had been able to wash them at least once before wearing them. He had bought them that morning in a rush, not wanting to stand out too much, but still wanting to fit in. The only other dress robes that he ever owned, he imagined, were long, thrown away by the Dursleys after leaving them behind.
Glancing at Melinda, as she came down the stairs, she glowed in an emerald gown, far too glamorous for the Ministry. She had insisted on this one, brushing off his suggestion that everyone else would be in plain robes.
Andromeda leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching him. "Have fun."
Melinda grinned, "Oh, we will."
Harry only sighed as he stepped into the floo. "Ministry Atrium."
He spun through the floo network until the green flames spat him out as he steadied himself at the Ministry. The atrium was dimly lit as he brushed his hands over his robes, while he waited for Melinda. She emerged a second later, coughing from the soot.
"Why is it so dark?" she frowned, brushing off her robes.
"It always has," Harry muttered as she slid her hand into his arm and they walked deeper into the atrium that had been turned into a dance floor on one side, mingling area on the other. Harry spotted the refreshment table. "Look, there's the refreshment table. Let's get something."
"Thank god, hopefully it's spiked," Melinda said, following him.
Harry picked up a ladle and poured a glass of punch for Melinda before filling one for himself. He caught sight of himself in the mirrored wall, and it made him pause. His older, large physique sometimes threw him off and seeing it beside the reflection of his former self, a banner displayed commemorating his victory, was unsettling.
Melinda faced away from him, staring at the banner. "I figured at least someone would recognize you," Melinda said, eyeing the crowd as she sipped her punch.
"Trust me, you're glad they don't," Harry replied quietly. He glanced at her again, "Oh, by the way, you have some soot on your nose."
Melinda gasped, trying to see her reflection on the wall. "Why didn't you tell me before? Where's the bathroom?"
Harry looked around. "No clue."
Melinda set down her glass and darted away through the crowd, her hand covering her face.
Alone, Harry let out a sigh, and he moved toward the other side of the atrium near the fountains. The sound of water drowned out the hum of conversations around him, and he stood there watching people mingle.
He spotted Luna as the first familiar face, placing flowers into Neville's hair as Neville laughed, letting her. Harry blinked, confused at how familiar they seemed to be with each other. He thought Neville had married Ginny.
His eyes drifted back to the floo entrance just as a new group stepped out. For a moment, the room seemed to shift, the crowd just nameless blurs, until one figure was clear as day as Ron walked away from her.
His breath caught, and his pulse thundered in his ears.
She was radiant in a silver dress that caught the twinkling light. Hermione. His Hermione. Well, at least in his mind. She wasn't smiling, her eyes sweeping the crowd, searching for someone. Then her eyes met his.
It was like a spell hit his chest all over again. The years between them, the unsent letters, the pain, the distance. It was all swept away in one look.
He opened his mouth, "Hermione," he whispered as if she could even hear him.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me that was there from the beginning," Melinda said as she reappeared at his side, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm as if staking claim on him.
Harry swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as his eyes darted back to Hermione.
She was frozen, like a silver Venus de Milo turned into stone. Her face was pale and her eyes wide.
Harry's chest twisted, but only one word was in his head. Fuck.
Preview of Chapter 30 – The Moment I Knew
"I am Lord Potter now," Harry interrupted, rising with a straight back as he could. "I hold the Potter seat, Black inheritance, and I am the last of the Peverell line. I don't need your permission to do what's right." He let his words sink in. "I can't transfer the Potter or Peverell lines to her without marriage, but I control more than you realize. I can transfer the Black line to her, through Rosella as proxy." Kingsley's eyes grew. "Cross me, Kingsley, and you won't like how quickly the balance shifts."
Kingsley swallowed. "Now is not the time for threats, Harry."
Harry smiled. "You think Albus was someone not to be messed with? Remember, I destroyed Voldemort at seventeen. I've walked the world since. I learned. I know more now. I'm not a boy that can be manipulated. This is your warning."
Kingsley sat back. "There are reasons. I made what I believed were the right calls. I'm not asking for forgiveness, just understand my view."
Harry's jaw tightened. "Understanding doesn't give you the right to steal my life!" he stated, hitting Kingsley's desk.
Kingsley's eyes flickered from his for a moment. "I will look into everything you've said. If anyone in this Ministry has tampered with correspondence, that is a severe offense that we don't take lightly. But you must understand, revealing that might blow open our institution, which is just beginning to heal."
Harry laughed. "So hurt people to keep the illusion of peace? I won't be part of it."
"Careful, Harry."
Harry turned to leave, then looked back at him. "If I find out that anyone destroyed letters or hid the truth, I will make sure there are consequences. Even if it was you."