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.
And it was like slow motion.
Standing there in my party dress.
In red lipstick,
With no one to impress.
And they're all laughing.
As I'm looking around the room.
But there was one thing missing.
And that was the moment I knew.
~The Moment I Knew by Taylor Swift
~*~ 3rd May 2003 ~*~
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 and sun-kissed, showing 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 as if 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 hit her like a punch to the stomach.
He was here. He was back… and he wasn't alone.
She stood there staring at him. At them. In utter disbelief that he was real. That he was actually in the same room with her after five years.
"Hermione?"
She turned sharply, refusing to take her eyes off Harry, as George appeared at her side. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I…" Hermione said as her throat tightened
Ron appeared next to George, holding two glasses of punch. "I got you some punch, sorry, George, I didn't get you anything." Ron stared at her, confused, then followed her gaze. "What's wrong?"
Hermione grabbed the punch and downed it, swallowed hard. "Harry's here."
Ron frowned, his eyes sweeping the room. Hermione could tell the moment they landed on him across the room, when they widened. Harry lifted his hand in a casual wave.
Ron glanced back at her. "Harry is here."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No shite, Sherlock."
"Did you know he was coming home?" Ron asked.
Hermione's jaw tightened. "Do I look like I knew?" she snapped.
Her eyes darted back to Harry, just in time to see George, who had crossed the room, come to stand in front of Harry. Words were exchanged, then George's fist connected with Harry's jaw.
Hermione gasped as she set her glass down.
"Oh Merlin," Ron said, "Should we-"
Then the whispers started. "Oh Merlin… is that who I think it is?"
"Is that Harry Potter?"
The crowd drew in closer to the point where Hermione couldn't see Harry or George. Swallowing hard as people turned to her and Ron. "Hermione and Ron! He's here. What do you think about it?"
Ron gently grabbed her arm, "Let's go."
Hurrying through the crowd, keeping their heads down, they finally made it to the floo.
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry's eyes were locked on Hermione across the room. She looked tense and guarded as Ron walked over and leaned close to say something to her. When he did, her shoulders tensed.
Harry lifted his hand in a wave, kicking himself at how awkward it seemed. Ron frowned at it, glancing at Hermione as they exchanged words. Harry's chest tightened as Hermione's face seemed as if it wasn't happy to see him. No, it wasn't even surprised. It was as if she were on the defensive.
Beside him, Melinda let go of his arm and stepped into his view. "That's them, isn't it? Aren't you supposed to be friends? They aren't even coming over here."
Harry exhaled, feeling exhausted. "Melinda, not…" he trailed off as he saw George Weasley coming over. "George! It's so good to see you."
He barely got the words out before George's fist crashed into his face. Pain exploded across his nose, and Melinda screamed.
Harry staggered and tripped, falling into someone as he fell onto the ground, groaning. "Yeah," he rasped through his hands, "I deserved that."
"You have no idea what you've done, do you?" George asked, shaking with fury as he stood over Harry. "You had all the time in the world to come back, and you waited until she was happy to show up finally? You're a fucking bastard, Potter. Don't come near them. Don't come near us."
George stormed back into the crowd as silence rippled through it, then the whispers began. Faces turned towards him, eyes wide, and Harry knew when they finally recognized him.
With a muttered curse, he pressed his palms to his nose as he straightened his nose until the bone cracked back into place, making Melinda flinch at the sound.
"What the hell was that about?" she hissed.
Harry ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose, the ache thankfully already fading. "No fucking clue," he said as he stood up and spat blood from his mouth into a nearby rubbish bin. His gaze swept the crowd, trying to see Hermione, but instead saw that every pair of eyes seemed to be looking at him. Clenching his jaw, he glanced at Melinda, "We're leaving."
Grabbing her hand, they pushed through onlookers toward the floo, but before he could reach it, a familiar face stepped in front of him.
"Luna," Harry sighed, running his hand over his face. "Don't… not now. I don't even know-"
"Harry," Luna said softly, "You need to talk to her. There has been miscommunication… from what I understand, lots of it. But it's not too late."
He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but applause filled the atrium. Harry turned to see Kingsley emerging from the lifts in velvet, expensive purple robes, looking regal. Luna used the distraction to take his free hand and pressed a folded piece of parchment into it.
"Go home," she whispered, "But tomorrow, that's Hermione's address."
Letting go of Melinda's hand, Harry unfolded it, frowning at the unfamiliar address. "Stinchcombe? She's not at the Burrow or with her parents?"
Luna shook her head. "No. Like I said, Harry… please go there tomorrow. For all of you."
Flooing back to her house, Hermione stepped through first, surprising her Mum and Dad.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Briar Rose asked as Ron came through just behind her.
Hermione looked at Rosella as she drew with her Dad. "Not now."
Camillo frowned, then looked at Rosella. "You know what, Rose? How about we go find us a snack?" he asked as he picked her up. "How about we sneak out for some ice cream?"
Rosella looked at Hermione, hopeful.
"Go, just bring me back some cookie dough," Hermione told them.
"Yes! Thank you, Mumma!" Rosella said as Hermione sat down on the couch, trying to calm her racing brain.
As soon as the front door shut, Briar Rose turned to Ron. "What the hell happened, Ron?"
Ron swallowed hard, "Harry's back."
Briar Rose looked at Hermione, surprised. "Harry's back?"
Hermione buried her face in her hands. "Yes, he's back. He was there with…"
"With what?" Briar Rose asked.
Hermione's eyes burned. "He was with a woman, on his arm. She had a ring on."
Ron ran a hand through his hair. "She could be nothing, the point is… he's here in England, and everyone knows it."
Briar Rose looked at both of them, "And you two… ran?"
Hermione laughed. "What was I supposed to do, Mum? Throw myself into his arms? Oh, and to make it worse, George punched him." Hermione shook her head, "Then everyone started to realize who he was, and everyone turned to look at us."
Briar Rose sat down. "Did you talk to him?"
"You mean did I have time to ask why he vanished without a word to me, why my daughter… our…" she broke off, her throat tight.
Ron sat down beside her. "Hermione, you don't have to do this right now. He's back. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
Hermione stood up, pacing the length of the room. "He's been gone for five years, Ron. Rosella asked not long ago why he wasn't around. And now…" she paused, "He's back. He's here in England…" She bit her lip, "I don't know what to think."
"Then don't decide tonight. Tomorrow will come, and we will figure out a plan," Briar Rose stated.
Hermione nodded as she sank back down onto the couch.
"We will stay here tonight," Briar Rose told her.
Hermione shook her head, sighing, "Mum, I'll be fine. You didn't just move into the house to move right back in with me when times get tough. I'll be fine. I highly doubt that Harry will even come here."
Hermione laid her head back against the couch, "I'm so fucking exhausted already."
Briar Rose took her hand, "When your dad gets back, we will get out of your hair, but we will be back in the morning."
"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said as she closed her eyes for a moment.
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry stumbled out of the floo at Grimmauld Place and didn't even bother to brush the soot from his robes. His nose still throbbed, and his dress shirt was splattered with his own blood. Melinda followed behind him, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor as he headed toward the kitchen.
"You're going to tell me right now what the hell that was all about," Melinda demanded, "Who the hell was that man? Why did he hit you? And why did the entire room act like they'd seen a ghost?"
Harry dragged a hand down his face as he stepped down into the kitchen. "Melinda, not tonight."
"Not tonight?" She squealed, then barked out a bitter laugh. "I just watched you get punched in front of half the British Ministry of Magic, Harry. Everyone just stared at you like you were-"
"Quiet down before you wake Teddy," Andromeda snapped as she came through the other side of the kitchen, in her night robe, wand in hand. Her gaze fell on Harry, and she froze. "Harry…" she whispered, walking over toward him, "What happened?"
Harry raised his arms, "Somehow I've wronged George Weasley, maybe the whole damn family."
Melinda stomped her foot. "You must know what he was talking about! Harry, I didn't come across the world with you just to be left in the dark-"
"Enough!" Harry snapped as he looked at her. "I don't have the answers you want. So just… leave me the hell alone for the night!"
Melinda stared at him. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and then she turned on her heel and stormed upstairs, stomping like a child on the old staircase.
Harry collapsed into a chair, shoulders sagging as he stared at his bloodstained hands.
Andromeda crossed the room to stand beside him. "Do you have any idea what you've walked back into?"
Harry shook his head. "Not yet, but I'll find out tomorrow," he said, looking up at her, tired. "Do you have any Firewhiskey?"
Andromeda studied him for a long moment, then turned and pulled a dusty bottle from the cupboard. "I don't think Sirius would have minded," she said as she set it in front of him with a glass.
Harry poured until the liquid nearly reached the rim. Lifting the glass to his lips, it burned as it slid down his throat, making him cough and gasp.
Andromeda sat down next to him, pouring her own glass. "First time drinking it?"
"I've tried other things around the world, I just… forgot what it tastes like," Harry said, sipping it. Swirling the glass, he stared at the amber colour as it rippled in front of him. "What do you know, Andromeda? About the Weasleys, I mean? About what happened after I left. Hermione barely mentioned them in her letters, and Ron stopped writing not long after I left. Right before I heard about… about the baby from Viktor Krum." He let out a bitter laugh that didn't feel like it came from him. "So, I figured it had to do with that, or maybe Hermione told him what happened between us, that we had slept together."
Andromeda stared at him, then took out her wand, cleaning the blood off his body. "Is that what you thought? That Ron cut you off because of what? Jealousy?"
Harry downed the rest of his glass. "What else was I supposed to think? Hermione barely told me anything. Letters slowed, and they stopped. I was left halfway across the world to piece things together from scraps. If I heard from Hermione maybe two or three times a year, it was a surprise."
Andromeda set her glass down and looked at him. "Harry, listen to me. The Weasleys loved you. On some level, I bet they still do. It's just clouded by hurt. You left without a proper goodbye, then you stayed gone. You told me yourself it was supposed to be only six months, then a year. After that, you came home, what? Twice?"
Harry's grip tightened on his empty glass. "I wrote. I wrote nearly every day for months. Hermione answered, sometimes. But Ron… he just vanished on me. Then tonight, George…" Harry inhaled through his nose, reminding him of the pain. "George just looked at me like I was the worst kind of traitor."
Andromeda sat back. "After everything that went down, after losing Ted, I cut myself off from the Wizarding World other than the Prophet. They never announced an engagement, but Hermione was pregnant, then after the baby was born, they laid low. I think I saw an article with them and the twins, and she was wearing a ring. I know they didn't last long if they were together, though, because she has the bookstore, and I went by, and next door is a pet store that Pandora Lovegood's daughter owns. Ron is there a lot with her. It's a Muggle pet store. I remember being surprised when I saw him there at first." Andromeda looked at him. "As for George, I don't know why he punched you, but they were never the same after they buried Percy. Ron and the twins own the Weasley Brothers store. I know they are opening a new one in Hogsmeade, according to the paper. Ginny is a Holyhead Harpy, other than that… the others keep a low profile. They didn't lose just Percy that day, Harry. They lost you, too."
Harry turned away and stood up to put his glass away. "Luna told me to go see Hermione tomorrow." He pulled the crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket, "Gave me her address."
Andromeda looked at the paper and chuckled, "Ironic."
Harry looked at her, confused, and she smiled.
"Stinchcombe is where the Potters are from." She stated. "Just go into tomorrow with an open mind. You'll get some answers, but don't fool yourself, Harry. You're not the only one who has been hurting."
Harry sighed. "I'm starting to realize that."
~*~ 4th May 2003 ~*~
Hermione woke with a start, reaching out instinctively for the small body that had been curling into her side every night for the past month since the spring storms had started. Her hand only met cool sheets.
Her heart skipped. After last night, the space next to her unnerved her. Throwing her covers back, she hurried into Rosella's room, only to find it empty. Panic shot through her as she rushed downstairs, her sock-covered feet slipping against the wood, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen.
Rosella was standing on her stool, a large wooden spoon in her little fist, stirring milk and cereal in her large mixing bowl. Milk was sloshing everywhere, dripping from the jug on its side, and down the sides of the bowl, making a puddle on the floor.
Hermione sighed as relief flooded her chest. "Rose, honey, what are you doing up?"
Rosella looked up at her with her big green eyes that made Hermione's heart ache. "You were crying in your sleep, Mumma, so I thought I'd make breakfast."
Hermione's heart melted as she crossed the room and pressed a kiss on top of her daughter's head and breathed in her strawberry shampoo. "Oh, baby girl. Thank you, but Mumma will make breakfast. You're still too little to do it all on your own."
Rosella looked at her, frowning. "Mumma, didn't Daddy make breakfast when he was little?"
Hermione's throat tightened. "Rose, honey… just call him Harry, remember? Like I told you to do at school."
Rosella nodded. "Someone might be mean to me if they know he's Daddy." She glanced at the mess. "I made a mess. I'll clean it up."
Hermione reached for a scrunchie that was on the counter, pulling her hair back. "No, I'll get it. You go get dressed. Your nightgown is covered in milk."
"Okay, Mumma," Rosella said as she hopped off the stool and left the kitchen.
Hermione let out a long breath as she grabbed a dish towel. "It's good that she tries to be independent," she muttered to herself as she got onto the floor to mop up the milk.
She was scrubbing up the last of the slightly sticky puddle when she heard the front door creak open. The sound made her raise her head too fast, and she cracked it on the underside of the table.
"Fuck!" she hissed, rubbing the sore spot. Tossing the towel aside, she rushed into the hallway. "Rose!" she called sharply, "What have I told you about opening the door to strangers?"
She skidded to a stop. Because standing in the doorway, the morning light behind him making him glow like an angel, was Harry Potter. And his eyes weren't on her. They were locked on Rosella.
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
After being unable to sleep, Harry woke up around 4:30 in the morning and decided to start driving to Hermione's house using Andromeda's car. By leaving, he figured it would give him more time to think, but after leaving London, he realized how few Englishmen still enjoyed driving. Until the sun started rising, the roads were relatively empty.
Trees, large grassy areas, and farmlands brought memories back of their hunt for the Horcruxes as Harry's map led him off the motorway into small towns. He felt a little uneasy as he drove through a quaint little village called Dursley.
Turning down the street that said it led to Hermione's, Harry was surprised that it was basically a one-lane road with hedges high like walls preventing people from seeing beyond them. Harry watched for the church listed on the map and drove a bit further to the first driveway. Pulling into it, he drove a short distance, finally spotting the little house amongst the trees. It was a cute little stone cottage that made Harry smile, reminding him of something out of a storybook. Parking the car in the driveway, he sat for a moment before getting out.
A little table with two chairs sat in the front yard under some trees, and Harry's heart raced when he saw the hammock that he had sent her between them. A chessboard sat on the table, and Harry could see Ron over, trying to teach Rose how to play as Hermione read a book in the hammock.
Sighing, Harry walked up to the door and knocked. He half-expected no one to answer. But the door cracked open almost immediately.
A tiny face peered out, a girl, smaller than she'd seemed at St. Mungo's, drowning in a nightgown far too big for her.
She shut the door quickly, leaving it cracked open just a sliver.
"Hello," came a small, careful voice.
Harry managed to smile. "Hello, is your mum around?"
The door opened slightly wider. Her little head peered out somewhat around the door, showing her dark auburn curls, messy from sleep. He briefly saw her eyes before she ducked behind the door again. "Oh! Hi, Da… Harry."
She pushed the door open wider, and for the first time, he could see her properly. From the mismatched slippers to the grinning blue monster stretched across the fabric of her nightgown that looked wet, her tiny fingers were gripping the wood of the door, and her little cheeks were freckled under her eyes. His breath caught in his chest. Her eyes were green, a little darker than his own.
"Come in, Harry," she said shyly.
The words barely registered in his brain because he couldn't stop staring at her. His knees felt weak.
"Rose! What did I say about opening the door for strangers?!" Hermione's voice rang down the hall. She skidded into view on socked feet, and froze at the sight of him, going utterly still.
Harry didn't even look at her. He couldn't. All he saw was the little girl watching him, her wide green eyes locking with his as if the world had shrunk in on them.
"Go get changed, Rosella," Hermione ordered.
The little girl tilted her head toward Hermione, then back at him. She rolled her eyes, so perfectly Hermione that it nearly undid him. "Bye, Harry," she said as she turned and ran up the stairs.
The silence she left behind pressed in on him heavily.
"She's… adorable," Harry managed, his voice suddenly hoarse.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw tight. "Thanks. No offense, but why are you here?"
Harry dragged a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. "We didn't get a chance to talk yesterday, and… things have been eating at me. Then George blindsided me with a punch, and I still don't know why." He exhaled, looking at her, as she looked at him, and their eyes met. "Luna stopped me before I left. She said I should see you, that she thinks there's been some kind of…. Miscommunication."
Hermione let out a short laugh. "You think?"
Harry winced. "I wanted to talk yesterday. I really did. But you left so suddenly and…" his voice cracked with the frustration he felt. "Hell, Hermione. I'm so fucking confused."
Hermione closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath. "You have five minutes. Come in."
Moving aside, she let Harry step into her home for the first time. Shutting the door behind him, she led him into the sitting room and turned sharply to face him. "What are you confused about, Harry?"
Instead of answering, she watched as his gaze wandered, taking in the shelves that lined nearly every wall of her sitting room. His lips curved. "Think you could fit more bookshelves in here?"
Hermione almost smiled. "I do own a bookshop."
"Does Ron live here?" he asked suddenly.
Hermione blinked, then laughed. "Seriously? Ron and I figured out years ago that if we lived together without you, we'd probably kill each other."
Harry nodded, but his attention had caught on a framed photograph of her cradling a newborn Rosella, exhaustion written all over her face. "She was so small."
Hermione softened. "Didn't feel that small delivering her."
Harry tore his eyes away from the photo to glance at her. "No, I mean… she was small but could have been smaller. Since she was early."
Looking at him, Hermione asked, confused. "She wasn't that early. Who told you that she was?"
"Viktor," Harry said slowly. "He said…" his voice trailed off, confusion written on his face. "Wait. When was her birthday?"
"Her birthday? You mean, you don't know?" Hermione asked, confused. "Her birthday is the 1st of August, and why would Viktor know anything about Rose?"
Harry froze, "August? How early was she?"
Hermione scoffed. "Rose does things on her own time. Minerva swears she has her grandmother's stubborn streak. Naming her Rosella Lily might have been asking for trouble on my part."
A crash upstairs made her turn around and step out into the hall. "Rosella, are you alright?"
"I'm okay! I knocked over my books, putting my pants on!" Came a muffled reply.
Hermione sighed. "You'd think she was related to Tonks." She turned around and froze. Harry had gone pale, staring at her as if she had hit him.
"Hermione," his voice was suddenly hoarse, "is she mine?"
Hermione's mouth fell open. "What do you mean, is she yours? Of course she is…" She paused at the look on his face as the realization hit her like a curse. "Harry," she breathed out as her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my God! All this time… I thought you knew! I thought you got my letters!"
Harry stumbled back until he hit a bookshelf, bracing himself. "I never… I never got a letter. Not until Beauxbatons."
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "But I wrote… I wrote all the time! I didn't tell you about Rose until late in the pregnancy. I wanted to tell you properly. But then you never came home, so around your birthday, I begged you in a letter to come back for her."
His hands twisted in his hair, pulling it out of its ponytail, desperation clear on his face. "I never got it. God, Hermione, I never got it! Why didn't I get it?"
Hermione walked over to him. "You had to get some of them! You wrote back!"
"I did write back!" he shot back. "Constantly, I wrote to you! For months, nothing came back! Then one letter, for my birthday, but nothing about her!"
Hermione felt her knees weaken. "But I know you received that one. Kingsley gave me your reply."
Harry froze, "Kingsley gave it to you?"
"Yes, why?" Hermione asked, confused.
"I never gave Kingsley that letter. I only passed him a few when I was out of owl range," Harry explained.
Her stomach dropped. "Harry… did you tell Kingsley where you'd be?"
He nodded slowly. "The Ministry always handled my travel plans."
Hermione swallowed back bile. "Harry… I think Kingsley's been keeping things from us. He's avoided me for years. He and the Ministry made it nearly impossible to get a job there."
Harry dropped into her recliner. "Why would he do that? Why hide our letters?"
Hermione's hands shook as she held out her right hand. "Accio journal." But nothing happened. Cursing her lack of ability at wandless magic, she called toward the stairs. "Rose, honey? Can you bring Mumma her journal from the office?"
Rosella peeked her face through the rungs of the banister. "The letter journal?"
"Yes, sweetheart."
Rosella came downstairs with the thick, battered book stuffed with loose pages. Hermione took it, brushing her… their daughter's curls back. She was now wearing a Cinderella costume. "Thank you. Darling. Go play in your room for a bit while Harry and I talk."
"Okay. I have a new book to read," Rosella stated as she skipped back up the stairs.
Harry watched her go, his eyes shining. "She can read?"
Hermione smiled, swallowing hard. "Better than some adults, I'd imagine. She'll blow your mind, Harry. Ron says she scares him sometimes."
Harry chuckled, "Your brain scared him most of the time."
Hermione handed him the journal. "I started keeping copies of the letters I sent. At some point during my pregnancy, they turned into a journal to keep you informed of her progress. When she was born, it was to keep you informed of our lives."
She folded herself onto the sofa, legs tucked beneath her, as she watched him as he leafed through page after page of her handwriting. The expression on his face shifted from curiosity to awe to grief. Finally, he looked up as a single tear slid down his cheek.
"I missed it all," he whispered. "The letters I did get weren't these. They were changed. Some of your words erased, some… almost as if your letters were combined."
Hermione's throat tightened. "If Kingsley tampered with them… why?"
Harry shut the journal and stood with fire in his eyes. "I'm going to go find out. Is your house on the floo network?"
She nodded. "Otter Cottage"
"I'll be back," he promised as she watched him walk over to her fireplace and knew somehow that she kept her floo powder in an empty flowerpot that Rosella had painted. Stepping into the flames, Harry vanished.
/\/ <3 /\/ <3 /\/
Harry stumbled out of the floo, into the Ministry Atrium, fury raging through his body as his boots echoed across the marble floor. He was thankful it was Sunday morning, and most of the Ministry was empty, as the Security Wizard listened to the Wizarding Wireless, completely oblivious to Harry striding past him. By the time he registered, someone had walked through the checkpoint, and Harry was already inside the lift.
"Minister's office," Harry snapped.
The gates clanged shut as the guard came running, shouting at him to stop. Harry wrapped a hand around the rail above his head, jaw clenched as the lift rattled upward.
When it finally came to a stop, the gates scraped open at the Minister's floor.
A receptionist looked up, startled, and scrambled to her feet. "You… you shouldn't be here. I'm calling security!"
Harry glared at her, making her falter. "Is he in?"
She gasped as recognition dawned. "Mr. Potter-"
"Is. The Minister. In?" He asked, his voice low. He could feel his magic rippling across his skin.
"He… He's busy," she stammered.
Harry brushed past her, ignoring her protests. With each step, his anger grew hotter. He shoved open Kingsley's office door, slamming it against the wall behind it with a loud crack. The Minister himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, jumped to his feet, his hand flying to the wand on his desk. But Harry was faster. "Accio wand."
Kingsley's wand slapped into Harry's hand, and Harry sneered. "Guess your Auror instincts are slipping, Kings."
"Harry," Kingsley said, "Please, sit down."
"I don't want to have a seat. I want answers," Harry demanded.
"Harry, shut the door."
"Why? Don't want people to hear how you violated the Boy Who Lived's trust?" Harry yelled, his voice carrying.
Doors up and down the hall opened, and curious heads peeked out.
Kingsley's jaw tightened as he rounded the desk, pushing past Harry, slamming the door shut himself. "Grow the fuck up, Potter," he hissed under his breath.
"Grow up? I missed my daughter's entire childhood because of you!"
For the first time, Harry saw Kingsley falter. He stepped back, eyes closing briefly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly as he sat back behind his desk. "That was an unfortunate risk I had to take."
"Why?" Harry asked, "Why Kingsley? She showed me the letters. She made copies, you know. She begged me to come home! And you-" Harry slammed his wand on the desk, "You made sure I never saw them the way she meant for me to see them."
"Bloody Hermione Granger," he muttered, "Always too clever. Always too thorough."
Harry's stomach twisted. "No, thank God she was, because now I know the truth. You lied to me. You robbed me of my family. I demand to know why."
Kingsley slowly met his gaze. "Because, Harry. There are things you don't understand, and if you had come home, if you had been with her and the child. You both would have been in great danger."
"Bullshit," Harry barked. "Tell me the fucking truth for once."
Kingsley closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was flat, as if his words were against everything he had. "Dumbledore demanded it of me. With an unspeakable vow."
His words felt like a physical blow as Harry staggered back. "What?"
"Dumbledore said, if you won, he feared you would have too much power in our world," Kingsley stated, folding his hands on his desk. "He thought you were too… radical, too unpredictable with your upbringing. He believed that the only way to steer the country back on course was to remove you from the stage."
Harry ran both hands through his hair, a cold, hollow laugh coming out of his chest. "Are you fucking serious?"
Kingsley nodded. "I agreed with him. After everything, your organization of the DA, your performance on the battlefields. Dumbledore and I feared what your influence might become. We drafted contingencies. If the light prevailed, I would assume the Ministry and implement a program of reforms." He looked at Harry, "We thought we were protecting everyone."
The room swam with his anger. All the missing years. Rosella's face… everything slammed into him at once. "So, you sent me away?"
Kingsley shrugged. "We made choices that we thought were necessary."
Harry felt as if someone had disillusioned him, his body going numb. "Hermione told me that you refused to hire her," he said, anger building again.
"Of course, we didn't hire her," Kingsley answered with a laugh, "She's Muggle-born. She pushes for creature rights and has been by your side through it all. If she'd been placed in the Ministry, she would have pushed it in a direction we weren't ready for. Next thing you know, women would be in the Wizengamot, pushing reforms that upset the power."
Harry laughed, furious. "So, we're back in the 1800s now? We're policing progress because someone decides it's inconvenient?"
Kingsley's mouth thinned. "Hermione Granger wielding power could have been destabilizing to our cause. I made a call. I thought it safer."
"You call that safeguarding?" Harry stepped forward until the desk pressed against his legs. "Hermione is the one person I trust to build a better world with, not to be sidelined because you were afraid. And you hid our letters."
Kingsley flinched. "There were enemies still active, and hard decisions were required-"
"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, slamming his fist into 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."
Closing his eyes, Harry disapparated back to Hermione's house.
Hermione sat in her sitting room, chewing her lip as the silence pressed in on her. Upstairs, Rosella was in her room, but Hermione worried about what she was thinking about. Rose was smart, too smart for her age, and Hermione knew that she understood that Harry was her father. But how much did she grasp, now that he was here and real, sitting in their world instead of just the stories that Hermione would tell her? Or was it still too big a concept for their little girl to understand?
The air popped, and Harry appeared in front of her, making Hermione scream as she clutched her chest.
"What the hell, Harry? You scared the crap out of me!"
Small feet thundered down the stairs, and Rosella came flying into the room, holding her child-sized broom like a sword. "What's wrong, Mumma?"
Hermione glared at Harry before looking at Rose. "Harry just surprised me, honey. That is all." She turned back to him, "Well? What did you find out?"
Harry swallowed hard. "It was him. I know it was. I just-" he said as he ran his hand through his hair, "I have to figure out how to prove it."
Hermione chewed her lip again, but looked over at Rosella, who was still holding her broom. "Rose, sweetheart," Hermione said, holding out her arms. "Come here."
Rosella set her broom aside and walked across the rug, never taking her eyes from Harry. Hermione lifted her onto her lap, kissing the top of her messy curls. "So, Harry is home, and it turns out… he wasn't getting Mumma's letters."
Rosella frowned. "But Mumma sent them. I sent you letters, too."
Harry lowered himself onto the recliner, opposite them, and spoke quietly to her. "Someone took my mail. Changed it, because they didn't want me here with you and your mum."
Hermione blinked. "That's illegal."
Harry nodded, "He said he'd look into it, but when the Minister himself is involved…"
Hermione sighed, hugging Rosella tighter to her. "Rose, honey, because Harry didn't get our letters, or that they were changed, he didn't know that you were his daughter."
Rosella gasped, turning to Harry. "But we have the same eyes!"
Harry smiled. "You do. You've got my mum's eyes too. Your Grandma Lily's. Her hair, too."
Rosella's grin was wide. "My second name is Lily. Rosella Lily."
Harry swallowed. "It's a beautiful name."
Rosella looked at Hermione. "Now that Harry is here, and not a stranger, can I call him Daddy again?"
Hermione's breath caught as she met Harry's gaze. He looked like the world had shifted under his feet. "That's up to you, my flower."
Rosella turned to him, "What do you think, Daddy?"
Harry's lips trembled as visible tears came to his eyes. "I'd love that, more than anything."
Rosella scrambled off Hermione's lap and climbed up into Harry's, wrapping her little arms around his neck. "I love you, Daddy."
Harry's arms tightened around her as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "I love you too, Rosella. Always."
Hermione brushed away the tears that she couldn't hold back. For one moment, she took a chance to believe that it could work out.
Lunch quickly became chaotic as Rosella insisted on showing Harry how she liked her sandwiches cut into triangles, not squares, and with no crust. "Because crust is yuck," as she slathered on more peanut butter than Hermione usually would let her.
Hermione returned from the bathroom to find Rosella climbing on top of the counter to grab cocoa powder to make glasses of chocolate milk for herself and Harry. Hermione tried to scold her for climbing onto the counter, but Harry's laughter stopped her as she watched him watch Rosella mixing cocoa with way too many scoops.
Harry smiled at Hermione, making her heart skip a beat. "Merlin, Hermione. She's just like you. She has the look you always had on your face when we were in potions class."
Hermione gave him a look over her teacup. "Don't tell me that. That's what I am afraid of. I don't want her to have my level of anxiety. I want her to have your level of easygoingness."
Harry stared at her in shock, then at Rosella, "Holy… we have a kid."
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, we do."
The rest of the day was a blur for Hermione that nearly seemed like a dream.
So much of a dream, Hermione found herself in her back garden watching Harry walk Rosella through broom safety, as she felt that she had lost her sanity when a double set of green eyes gazed upon her, asking if they could fly with the damn broom that the twins had bought Rosella that before now had only been a sword or a microphone, never used to fly.
"Alright, Rose," Harry said, his voice calm. "Your thumbs need to be wrapped around the broom like this. Great. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Our brains take us the way we look. Flying is all about balance. The broom listens to your body if you tell it what to do."
Rosella's curls bounced as she nodded. "And I won't fall off?"
"Not with a training broom and not unless you try something you shouldn't do," Harry told her, "And we aren't going to do that today."
Hermione sat in her reclining chair, watching them and imagining all the ways this could go wrong.
Harry gave the broom a tap, and it started hovering a foot off the ground, just enough that her toes skimmed the grass. Rosella squealed with happiness and kicked off, wobbling and unsteady at first, then steadied herself better than Hermione ever did, as Harry jogged alongside her.
"Nice and easy. See, you are flying already," Harry grinned.
Her laughter ran through the air. "I'm flying, Daddy!"
Hermione's heart lurched as she saw the joy in Harry's face as he ran alongside her, as her hair streamed behind her as she flew around. Hermione's breath caught as she headed straight towards a tree.
"Tree, Rose! Tree!" Harry called, running after her, "Lean left! Yes! Perfect!"
The broom veered safely away from the tree, "Daddy! You should've seen me yesterday! I didn't fall even once!"
Harry laughed, "Yesterday? Today is your first flying lesson, you crazy girl! What about today? You aren't going to fall on me, are you?"
"Never!" Rosella shouted back, and before Hermione could react, her daughter shot toward Harry with a grin that she had seen on Fred and George's faces too many times.
Rosella tugged her broom into a sharp twist, zoomed straight towards Harry, and jumped.
"Rose!" Hermione gasped.
Harry staggered back but caught her against his chest at the last second, stumbling back into the grass with a laugh. "Okay," he said, holding her tight. "Let's not do that again!"
"Warning," Hermione called, trying to calm her racing heart. "She's the granddaughter of a Marauder, and she was raised by Weasleys."
Harry's eyes went wide as he looked at the giggling little girl in his arms. "Oh, Merlin," he muttered. "We're in so much trouble."
By the time the delivery of their dinner arrived, Hermione set the box of pizza on the counter while she listened to Harry and Rosella's chatter from the living room.
"… then she said that my reading is like a first-year!" Rosella told him proudly.
Harry chuckled. "First year already? That's brilliant, Rose. Bet you keep your teacher on her toes."
"I do, I help a lot," Rosella stated, "I can't wait to go to real school in September."
Rosella turned around and looked at her over the top of the couch. "Mumma? Can I take Daddy outside to find Crookshanks? Please?"
"Just the garden and stay where I can see you. He tends to wander, and I don't want dinner getting cold," Hermione told her.
Rosella grinned as she grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him toward the back door. "Come on, Daddy! Crookie always hides near the flower patch!"
Hermione leaned against the counter, watching them through the window. Rosella was talking his ear off, pointing to the flowers that had begun to grow.
A sudden voice behind her made her jump. "Why didn't you come to lunch?"
Hermione whirled around, clutching her chest. "What the fuck, Ron? Don't do that! When did you get here?"
Ron frowned. "You didn't hear the floo alert?"
"No," she said, brushing her hair out of her face. "What do you need, Ron?"
Rosella squealed outside, and she glanced out to see Harry on the grass with her. Ron came to stand next to her and scowled, looking outside. "You're letting him out there with her?!"
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, "Ron, there are things that we didn't know. We think it was Kingsley, but someone's been tampering with our letters to each other. I showed him my copies of my letters, and he said what he got was completely different."
"Sure," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"Quit, Ron. We haven't had time to piece everything together, but it looks like Kingsley kept him away on purpose," Hermione told him.
Ron's frown deepened. "And you just, what? Let him stroll back into your life like nothing had happened?"
"It's not about me. It's about them. Rosella deserves to know her father, and Harry deserves to know her." Hermione told him.
Ron shook his head, "Some father. He never came back. For her, for any of us. I was more of a father to her than he was."
Hermione swallowed hard. "But you weren't her father, Ron. He is and always will be. Just… give us time to figure this out. Please."
Ron shifted, watching them, "Who's the woman then? The one he was with?"
Hermione bit her lip, watching Harry pick at the grass with Rosella, listening to whatever she was telling him. "I don't know yet. I… I'll find out. Right now, it's about them." She looked at Ron. "Go home, Ron. Stop by the shop tomorrow."
Ron studied her for a moment, then sighed in frustration. Turning, he went back to the floo without another word.
Hermione let out a shaky breath as she looked out at the garden. Crookshanks had come out at last and was rubbing against Harry, letting him scratch him behind the ears. Hermione's heart ached watching them.
Rosella's chatter had slowed as her head rested against Harry's shoulder, and Hermione flipped to another page in her baby book.
"Her first true word was, book," Hermione explained, pointing to a photo of a toothless grin as a small Rosella held a book in her hands.
Harry chuckled, "Figures it was book," he teased.
Hermione smiled as Rosella let out a long yawn, rubbing her eyes.
"She's crashing," Hermione whispered as her head rolled off Harry's shoulder, then straightened back up again.
Harry shifted her effortlessly into his arms, cradling her like he'd been doing it for years, not hours, making Hermione's chest tighten as she stood up.
"This way," she whispered, leading him to the stairs.
When they reached Rosella's bedroom, Harry stopped in the doorway. "Seriously?"
Hermione flushed as she walked over to her bed and pulled back the covers. "Blame Luna and Ginny. I was at work and came home to find this waiting for us. Rosella saw it and fell in love with it."
Harry stepped inside Rose's room, carefully setting her on the tiny mattress tucked into the castle-like structure around her. The turrets rose towards the ceiling, filled with books, and, stepping back, Hermione nearly tripped over the edge of the stairs that led to the space for a second mattress.
"Victoire sleeps over sometimes," Hermione explained as she walked over and tucked the blankets around Rosella. "I unshrink a proper mattress for her. Otherwise…" she gestured to the top bunk, "That's her stuffed animal zoo."
Harry reached up and plucked down a snowy owl plush, raising an eyebrow at her.
Hermione shrugged with a smirk. "I had to."
He chuckled, placing it gently next to Rosella. They lingered a moment, watching her sleep, before Hermione motioned toward the hall. "Come on. Let's go downstairs."
Back in the sitting room, Hermione curled into the corner of the couch. Harry hesitated for a moment, staring at the cushion beside her.
"I don't bite," she teased.
He laughed as he sank beside her, sighing as his head fell back against the couch. "I'm exhausted, Hermione, I don't know how you did it alone."
Hermione laughed quietly. "She's a ball of energy."
"That she is," he turned his head toward her. "She's amazing. You did so well with her."
"I just did my best. It was hard, but… she made it pretty easy, honestly." Hermione explained.
Harry's gaze shifted around the room, on the framed photos of Rose at different ages. "I can't believe I-"
"Are you engaged?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Harry froze, then sat up wide-eyed. "Fuck, Melinda." He scrubbed the back of his neck. "No… yes… I don't know." He groaned. "I guess. She proposed to me, but we haven't been together long."
Hermione frowned. "But you said yes?"
Harry shut his eyes, exhaling. "Because I was stupid. I thought you were marrying Ron. I saw an article about the Big Weasley Wedding and felt jealous. Melinda knew it. The ring is her mum's, and I just… stupidly said yes."
Hermione's heart ached. "Harry, she moved across the world for you. She must love you."
Harry opened his eyes, meeting hers. "But I never stopped loving you, Hermione."
She bit down hard on her lip. "You can't do that to her, Harry. Give it some time. Try to work on things."
Harry leaned forward, desperate. "Do you still have feelings for me?"
Hermione stood abruptly, putting space between them. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you're engaged to another woman. You have to try for her. I won't do that to another woman."
In two strides of his legs that were so much longer now, Harry was there, pulling her into his arms. Hermione's body betrayed her, melting into the strength of his arms. He was broader now, but still smelled like Harry. Still felt like home.
"Fine," he whispered against her hair. "I'll give it one month. I'll try to work on things for a month." He leaned back, eyes locking with hers. "But look at me."
Her gaze met his, and she felt her resolve break a bit.
"Tell me that I still matter to you."
"Of course, you still matter to me," Hermione whispered. "But Harry, for so long, I was so angry at you. It wasn't your fault, but you left. It broke my heart, and I thought about you every single day. It's going to take me time to forgive you for that."
Harry's face fell.
"But of all the things I'll never forgive you for," Hermione said softly, "She is not one of them."
Swallowing hard, she stepped away from him. "Now, you have a long drive ahead."
Harry nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow. What time do you get up?"
Hermione laughed quietly. "Rose wakes me up at six every morning. I haven't slept past dawn in years. I've got to get her to school, then the store."
Harry gave her a small smile as he headed toward the door. "Good night, Hermione."
Hermione opened the door, "Good night, Harry."
She stayed at the door until he started the car and pulled away down her driveway. Slowly, she shut and locked the door, resting her forehead against the wood as her heart pounded in her chest, torn between relief, fear, and longing. He was, in fact, with another woman, and she had taken the high road. She almost hated herself for it.
Preview of Chapter 31 – Where You Come From
"Oh, she's a doctor too?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, a yoga instructor."
Hermione blinked, trying not to imagine what a yoga instructor could do with the flexibility she would never have. "Makes sense. Where is she from?"
Harry froze, then opened his mouth and closed it again. "Um…"
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Oh my God, Harry! You're engaged to the woman, and you don't even know where she's from?!"
He stood. "The United States!"
"And which state?" she pressed.
Harry threw his arms in the air. "I don't know, okay! It never came up."
Hermione scoffed, slipping her feet into her shoes. "Never came up, did it, between jumping in the sack and proposing, I suppose."
"I never slept with her."
Hermione stopped mid-stride toward her blazer. "What?"
He stepped closer to her. "You are still the only woman I've been with."
Hermione cleared her throat. "So you mean… men?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Hermione!"
She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Nothing wrong with it, I'm just saying." She stared at him. "I didn't expect that." She laughed. "Still could be a fangirl. You do attract those."
Harry crossed his arms. "Who?"
Hermione pulled her hair out of her blazer. "Ginny, Cho," she said, half-teasing as she walked over to the fireplace. "I'm just saying."
Harry grinned. "Well, you weren't a fangirl," he said softly.
Hermione paused, hand in the floo jar, half smiling as she looked over her shoulder. "Harry, I read every book that existed about you before I started Hogwarts, then I met the real you. Please remember to lock up my house when you leave."
She gave him one last look before flooing away.