Post by Foxstep on Jun 21, 2011 18:20:02 GMT -5
The year was 1998. The battle was over. A boy, Harry Potter, no more than 17, stood transfixed to the spot, emotions rushing over him. It was over. Lord Voldemort, the most evil and arguably one of the most powerful wizards of all time, was dead. To the boy's right stood Hermione, a girl his age with bushy hair; she was his right hand; fittingly, she had killed Voldemort’s right hand, Bellatrix. The battle had been won, and the war was over. Wizards could finally rest in peace. Deaths had been avenged.
The girl stepped away from his side to approach the dead woman, grabbing a wand that had fallen by her side. It was her own wand, which had been taken earlier. Having secured the possession, she moved wordlessly back to Harry’s side, a twinkle in her eye despite the fact that she was shaking visibly.
They may have stood like that, in total silence, for hours, had the others behind them not moved. Some began to raise their arms in a silent cheer. Others began to sob, mourning the dead all the while praising the death of their tormentor. Only one dared to break the silence – Madam Pomfrey, a nurse from Hogwarts, who entered the scene quite alarmed. “Everyone seriously injured needs to be placed on a stretcher and brought to the infirmary! Those with less serious injuries will have to wait! Quickly now, everyone. Quickly!” Hermione let out a chuckle at the woman. She was the school nurse and was very energetic, no matter the situation. Harry, however seemed confused. “How did she-?”
He was cut off by a man taller and older than he with dark hair, Professor Snape. “I sent for her . . .Harry. Too many. . .wounded. Knew we’d. . . need her.” He gasped, forcing himself to walk closer to the boy. A cut across his chest was bleeding profusely; yes, many had been wounded. Harry moved quickly to his side to help him stagger away from the crowd. Snape’s loyalty had once been questioned, many times tested, but he turned out to be true to Harry and Dumbledore, not Voldemort. At that moment, Dumbledore conjured several stretchers, then proceeded to lead the most seriously injured people off to the nursing ward. It seems as though other nurses had been called in addition to the school's nurses, because many witches in scrubs were moving through the throngs of people, pulling some aside, placing others on conjured stretchers.
Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, was also flying throughout the crowd, tears rimming his eyes to heal some of those most loyal to Dumbledore. He paused for a moment on Harry's shoulder, landing a tear directly on Harry's bleeding hand, then moved to erase a cut on his neck. Next he hopped to Hermione, shedding a tear for a gash on her cheek, though he ignored the one on her arm which was still bleeding rather badly. He then moved on to Snape, which caused some a bit of a shock, and healed the large, dangerous gash across his chest. Fawkes would only heal those entirely devoted to Dumbledore, and the large bird made no mistakes on this front. With a greatful sigh, Severus thanked the bird and made his way to the nurses ward, now being aided by Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather and a long-time rival of Severus. Black’s three closest friends were dead: James Potter, Harry’s father who had been killed by Voldemort; Remus Lupin, a werewolf who had been murdered two years prior; and Peter Pettigrew, a traitor who betrayed the Potters and was responsible for their murder. Sirius seemed to be taking the end of the battle better than most, but his face was ragged, his eyes sagging with grief despite the glow that his friends’ death – and his own twelve-year imprisonment in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit – was avenged. And now, though he and Snape had been enemies for some time, they had put aside their differences to fight a common rival, and now had reached a sort of a peace between the two.
The people in the battle seemed to all relax, each retreating in different directions before Dumbledore called to everyone, “Please, everyone, remain for the night. We’re all tired, and there’s no need for traveling tonight. Families can be notified with our owls, you can be treated in the ward, and beds will be conjured for everyone. I assure you, all needs can and will be addressed.” At that, people ceased their retreat and made their way to the school. Even those from other countries and schools, including Durmstrang and Beauxbaton stopped heading for the exits and turned, almost merry, towards the meeting hall. Though some were not close to Dumbledore, the idea of rest after so may frightening years and several battles compelled them to overcome such feelings and stay, if only for another day.
Those who were the most badly hurt had been moved to the hospital ward, where several of the nurses had scuttled off to. A few more nurses moved through the rest of the crowd, which, though weak, tired, and hungry, were only scratched. They had requested that the hurt raise their hands and stop a nurse, while the healed or mostly healed move on to the dining hall to congregate. Dumbledore led a group of foreigners that way, laughing jovially. Minerva McGonagall seemed to rounding up healthy students and getting aid for others, though she took particular care with those who had graduated also, calling a nurse over to help Neville, who seemed to have twisted his wrist – again - and Ginny, who had a nasty cut on her leg. After that, she told them to lead a group of sixth and seventh year Hogwarts students back to the school, thorough and careful as usual. The Professor then made her way to Harry and Hermione, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Mr. Potter. I always knew there was something unique about you, but I don’t know that I would have expected this much of you. And Miss Granger, I daresay you have earned your title as the most clever witch of your age – and several others. Tell me, are either of you insured? I saw Fawkes over here, but wanted to double check.”
Hermione hugged the elderly woman and insisted that they both were fine, thanks to Fawkes, when Harry interrupted that Hermione still had a large gash on her arm. McGonagall then called over a nurse who expertly fixed Hermione up, leaving them free to move about the field in hopes of finding others they knew. It wasn’t but a few moments before Ron, struggling to walk on his own and aided by Luna Lovegood, came up to them. “We did it, you guys. We really did it. It’s over. It’s all over.” He seemed a bit incoherent, so Luna thanked them both for letting her be a part of everything before waving to a nurse to help her with Ron. Hermione edged off with them, one arm holding Harry, trying to get him to follow, but he nodded her attention to Ron’s broken leg. “She can take care of him. We’ll see him tonight. You need to rest.” Dean and Seamus, two of Harry’s friends, called them over, and together, they walked back to the Hogwarts dining hall.
That night, everyone gathered for a feast. Even those injured were in attendance, some still in the hospital beds, which had been arranged so that they could eat with everyone else. Harry sat with Hermione to his right and Sirius Black to his left. Ron, on a hospital bed still, sat across from them, and Luna helped him scoop up food onto a large plate. Next to them, Ginny helped Neville cut up his food, his wrist still pained. For once, everyone seemed to rest and be at peace, despite the death of so many. . .
The first day after the battle was for celebrating. Owls had been sent to many, and more showed up at Hogwarts to join the celebration. Neville’s grandmother, a formidable looking woman, even showed up looking happy. The Hogwarts choir sang, and many alumni joined in. Music played, some sang, and some even danced, overwhelmed with joy at the happenings and acting as if they knew that they had best enjoy their time now because serious matters would have to be dealt with soon.
The second day was for mourning. A processional was held for all of those who had passed, whether in the most recent battle or beforehand. Any deaths related to Voldemort and his Death Eaters were mentioned. Harry, Hermione, and Sirius stood slightly in front of the Weasley family, who had nestled a spot by Neville and his grandmother. Ron and Luna seemed torn between staying with their families or going to stand by Harry, so Ron inched up, safely between both. When James and Lily were mentioned, Sirius placed his arm around Harry and whispered in his ear, “You know they are still with you, Harry. And you know, they are very proud.” When Remus Lupin was mentioned, Hermione stifled a sob and Harry comforted Sirius, knowing the two were old friends and that Sirius Black was now the last living Marauder. Even Severus made his way over to Sirius and said a few words of condolence. However, the most marked, severe response to all of the deaths was when the names Percy and Charles Weasley were called. Hermione, who had looked pale and weak during the entire ceremony of hearing so many deaths, finally broke at these names into open sobs. Harry wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and let her rest her head on his chest. Ginny, Ron’s younger and only sister, also broke into tears and allowed herself to be comforted by Neville. Luna put an arm supportively around Ron, who seemed numb. Ron’s living older brothers, George, Fred and Bill surrounded Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who was openly weeping on her husband’s shoulder. The ceremony seemed to stop for minutes on end as people openly sobbed for the loss of the two young boys who had given their lives for the cause. Though Percy had turned rogue for a time, he was still loved and remembered thoughtfully. After those two names had been called, people seemed more open to crying, and the tears poured more openly. After another name or two, Ginny pulled away from Neville, wiping her eyes on her robe. Hermione made to pull away, but Harry pulled her even closer, and she consented to not move just yet, as tears were still rolling off her cheeks and wetting his robe. Far too many had been killed; far too much blood had been spilt. That day was spent with all in tears, mourning the dead and seeing them off. That night, many from foreign lands departed. Others chose to return to their homes in the wizard-occupied sections of London. The rest remained at Hogwarts for another night or two to sort out their travels and other issues.
At the end of the week, as though a switch had flipped in Hermione’s mind, she remembered with a start that her parents were still in Australia without their memory. Knowing that she needed to retrieve them – and now fearing something that she had recently found out – she told Harry that she needed to go – alone, as they didn’t know him, but that she would return soon.
And so, leaving the others to get on with their lives and losses, Hermione went to Australia, dragging along Crookshanks, her cat, whom she had retrieved from the Burrow, also known as the Weasley residence, and Pig, Ron’s owl. He’d been given an owl by Charlie before his death, and Pig had taken a liking to Hermione. Since Ron offered that she’d needed an owl for the journey, and since he’d grown a bit tired of Pig’s restlessness, she had decided to keep him. With them, she arrived in Australia, restored her parent’s memory, and dealt with there initial disappointment. However, they soon realized that her actions were done to protect them, and they welcomed her back lovingly. She managed to divulge some details, mainly that the evil wizard was dead yet many good alliances had died. She’d only managed to squeak out that Lupin and Percy were dead before they told her that she needn’t worry, she was home and safe, and that they didn’t need to know any more. They saw how it pained her to think of them, and offered that the family remain in Australia for a while. Hermione, knowing something that no one else did just yet, agreed, before telling, “I. . . I think I’m pregnant.” Her father was alarmed, but her mother held him back, whispering something in his ear that seemed along the lines of, “Don’t ask about the father. He may be. . . Just don’t, okay, dear? She’s been through so much. I know this is unexpected, but you know her. She’ll manage just the same.” And so, eight months later, Hermione gave birth to twins – one girl and one boy. She had known that Harry was the father, but never expected the kids to look so much like him.. The boy had his dark, untamed hair but her eyes. Hermione named him James Albus. The girl had Hermione’s bushy, brown hair but had Harry’s – and his mother’s – green eyes. Hermione named her Lily Minerva. Her parents did not question their names, only accepted the two little bundles willingly and happily.
Meanwhile, the rest of the wizard world was in quite the ruckus trying to rebuild the ministry as each family rebuilt their lives. Harry now chose to reside permanently with Sirius in a cottage that he had recently bought with plenty of acreage. The reason for this was because when Sirius had run off with Buckbeak, Beaky had taken a liking to Sirius and, given to choice to return to Hagrid or stay with Sirius, he chose to remain with Sirius, visiting Hagrid only a few times each year. Harry took Hedwig along with him and settled comfortable with Sirius, though he could not understand what was taking Hermione so long. He waited for a month, not getting a job, waiting for her. He assumed that her parents were taking the ordeal difficultly, so he waited. He wanted to go after her, but Sirius stopped him. “Harry, she can handle herself. She needs to do this on her own. She will return when she is ready.” Days turned into weeks which turned into months, and Harry grew more worried and ragged. He sent Hedwig with a decent sum of money off to find Hermione, as she had never failed to deliver a package faithfully. She was gone for a month before she returned, empty beaked. She carried no letter, but the letter and money he’d sent with her were gone also. Her face seemed upset, as though she had found the recipient dead, or not at all, and then gotten rid of the package so she could return, but this only threw Harry into denial. Hermione had to be alive, she just had to! But the days continued to pass, and she was nowhere to be found. He continued to send things. However, the toll it took on Hedwig lead him to do it only four times a year – her birthday, Christmas, and then a two times in between. He never received a response, never got anything in return except a tired Hedwig.
However, while Harry was pining for Hermione, Ron too tried to cheer him up. He too knew nothing of her absence, but was thoroughly convinced that she was dead. He tried to tell Harry, who simply pushed him away and demanded that he shut up about it. Nevertheless, Ron remained loyal, often bringing Luna to visit Harry and try to cheer him up. They began dating shortly after the battle.
Ginny too tried to cheer Harry up, though accepted that he would never love her as she once had. She began dating Neville, and they, like Ron and Luna, took to visiting Harry often to try to revive his spirit.
Meanwhile, the rest of the wizard world was setting up the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had stepped in as Minister to help set things in order, leaving Minerva to take over the running of Hogwarts for a time. People began to live once more, including the Weasleys, who were still touched daily by the loss of two sons.
Three years had passed. Harry had turned twenty, yet celebrated as little as possible. In three years, he had not held a real job. He sometimes picked up the slack at Hogwarts, occasionally stepping in to teach a class or help Hagrid. He sometimes went to the transfiguration class for McGonagall and spoke of his learning to become an animagus, which he, Ron, and Hermione had done during their sixth year. With this little money, he bought food and other necessities, living off as little as possible and sending all the rest to Hermione, saving his entire inheritance on the off chance that she would return. It seemed as though he really would never need a real job despite his meager way of living. Fred and George’s joke shop took off, and, as Harry had been a key investor, they sent him money every so often. Luna and Ginny took turns cooking him fresh food every few days also, but he seemed to never eat much.
Hermione, on the other hand, had to live normally for her children’s sake. She was twenty; they were two. They had seen mommy cry many nights, trying to stifle the sounds so that they could not hear, but they did. Hermione tried to accept her fate, deal with the fact that she would never see her friends again, and continue to try to live her life, but the packages from Harry every three months or so made it difficult. The first package took her by surprise. Many galleons had poured out of the sack tied around Hedwig’s leg, as well as a letter telling her he was worried and didn’t know where she was or why she hadn’t returned. She had sent Hedwig away with no response, sad, but knowing that she had to – or at least thinking that she had to. This continued for those three years, each gift coming with a letter. Hermione didn’t know if the packages would ever cease, though she couldn’t say that she wanted them to. She never used the money, preferring to keep the lot of it stored in a chest under her bed, but she always loved and treasured the letter in which she learned how he was doing – always the same, fine but with some odd jobs. She didn’t know why had hadn’t found a real job, at first, until one letter told her that he couldn’t find the strength to do much with her absence, so he spent much time as his animagus form, a black dog like Sirius, roaming the woods. Sometimes, he wrote once, Ron even comes along. Of course, he has to stick with one of us since he’s only a Jack Russel, but he seems to enjoy it. I miss you though. You’d love it. At this, she nearly always finished the letter and then turned into her own animagus form, a lynx with bushy fur around the ears and face. She recalled their own days for a while before becoming human again and trying to put the past behind her.
Hermione was sure that this would be the rest of her life. Always avoiding sending a response, as much as she desired to. Always awaiting the next package and letter she would receive. Finally though, one day, her parents, who had been fully supporting Hermione and the children on their dentist salaries, called her into the kitchen for some terrible news. “Your father has cancer, Hermione, and the best doctors are in London. Plus, he wants to spend some time with his friends and family . . . Dear, we want to go back. If you don’t, we can leave you here, but we really wish you would bring the children and come back with us. . .” Hermione’s eyes glittered with tears at the heart wrenching news but merely nodded. “No, I understand. I’ll pack my things.” With that, she ran and hugged her father before moving into her own room to begin packing.
It was a week later when they set off for London. A family friend had kept up with the house, so it was looking still decent when they arrived. Sure, things needed to be fixed up, but most of the house was still well. That very night, Hermione told her parents that she needed to go somewhere, implying that it had to do with her past n the wizard world, and they complied, offering to babysit the twins. Hermione shook her head, insisting that they accompany her. She became an animagus, told Crookshanks and Pig to behave and act normally, and then returned to her human form. She even wanted them to come on the journey with her. They set off, a twenty year old, her two-year-old twins, a cat, and a small owl; an odd sort of bunch they seemed, making their way through the streets of London before she brought out her wand, which she had kept in good care, to open their way to the magical world.
Upon entering, a few friendly faces seemed to recognize her, smiling brightly and waving, though she recognized few of them. Certainly, those who were most important in the battle were well-known throughout the wizarding world, likely published in several of the papers. She knew that at least two had printed a picture of Harry, Ron, Albus, and herself on their front pages. Undoubtedly, many would recognize her face, as well as those of the many other notables who had helped in defeating the Dark Lord and his cohorts.
Still, she managed to avoid attracting too much attention as she made her way to Hogwarts. Usually, visitors weren’t always or often allowed, but being an alumnus, she was allowed, as were her guests. When they finally arrived at the front door, Lily and James were both sleeping in her arms; Crookshanks paced the path in front of them as though checking for any danger, and even Pig seemed both subdued in his energy yet still alert. They knocked on the door and were greeted – sort of – by the groundskeeper, Filch, who merely grunted before he nearly closed the door on her. At the last moment, he recognized her and beckoned her in with a slightly more friendly sounding grunt. Luckily for Hermione, Professor McGonagall was pacing the halls at that very moment and, upon sight of her, ran up happily and engulfed her in a large hug. “Hermione! We’d all thought you were dead. Killed by something! Of course, no one knew what could be smart enough to find a way to defeat you, but surely! Hedwig’s come back with nothing every time Harry sent her, and we were all so worried, now-” She cut off at the sight of the two children in Hermione’s arms. “Are they-?” Catching Hermione’s nod, she chose not to finish her question. “Well dear, why are you here? Come to find Harry? The children, they-”
“No, Minerva – I mean, Professor! I needed to speak to you and Dumbledore. I need your guidance. I. . . I need your help. No, not to see Harry. I can’t bother him. Just can’t. He’s moved on, I’m sure, found his own life, surely dating, happy, I can’t dump this on him, no, I can’t . . .” She trailed off before Minerva swept the two children up, asking their names. “James Albus and Lily Minerva. I. . . Yes, they’re his, but he doesn’t know. I was scared, I can’t tell him, Professor, I just. .” This time, rather than trail off, she broke into tears, and was ushered some consoling words from McGonagall.
“Come now, child,” the professor said calmly. “I’ll take you to Dumbledore straightaway. Lucky you came tonight; you know, he hasn’t been here that much recently. Trying to sort out things with the Ministry and all. . .”
Little did either of them know that Harry had also chosen to visit Hogwarts that very night. He’d make the trek earlier that day to visit Hagrid and had ended up in Dumbledore’s old office, seated across from his old headmaster, nearly in tears. He’d gone to Dumbledore several times over the past three years, mourning the losses and looking for guidance as to what to do about Hermione’s disappearance. Each time, Dumbledore told him the same thing. “She will come back, Harry, when she chooses and is able.” Each time, Harry shook his head in frustration, insisting that he should go do something, but each time Dumbledore rejected the notion, insisting that a girl like Hermione would come around. He, for one, rejected all ideas that she was dead.
McGonagall held Lily in one arm and had Hermione by one hand, who held James. They approached the usual entrance to the headmaster or mistress’s residence, which included causing a staircase to appear behind a statue, which appeared and then took them to the top. Seeing that Albus was speaking to Harry, Minerva attempted to stop Hermione from entering, but the sudden jolt of the stairwell stopping had caused Hermione to nearly charge forward. Upon seeing Harry, she let out a small squeak and hid her face behind James.
“Ahhh, yes, Harry, like I said. She would make herself known when she was ready and, alas, it appears that she is, indeed, ready. Er, sort of, but close enough. She is clearly not dead! Oh Hermione, let me see you, darling!” Dumbledore cried out loudly, his smile growing wider by the moment, seeming close to overtaking his entire face when his eyes set sight upon the twins. “Why Hermione, are they. . .are they yours?” He asked, his voice betraying his surprise despite his joy at the thought.
Minerva, deeming Hermione unable to speak because she still hid her face, answered in response, “Yes, Albus. And do you know what she named them? Lily Minerva and James Albus! What an honor, truly.” That being said, she plucked James out of Hermione’s hands and transferred him to Dumbledore’s, allowing the headmaster to appreciate the young life that was before him. “Well, would ya look at that, Harry! She even named ‘em after me, too! How delightful!” Dumbledore exclaimed before a look from Minerva told him that he had best quite himself to that Hermione and Harry could speak.
Harry, however, seemed as unable to speak as Hermione. His face, which had lit up upon her arrival, was an odd twist of both extreme joy and severe shock. He had honestly, sort of, thought her dead; but alas, she was alive! And yet, why hadn’t she written? Why had she taken to long to return? Nevertheless, in the rush of emotions, he forgot to question her and instead moved to her side and embraced her lovingly before completely sweeping her off of her feet and setting her down next to him on the couch. He managed to gasp out her name, but she said nothing in return. Rather, she had buried her head in his chest, tears still streaming from her face. She was entirely unable to even mutter a response, so he simply held her, trying to calm her.
Minerva caught his eye and made a motion indicating that she and Dumbledore were going to return to the other side of his study, so that he and Hermione could have a bit of privacy. Harry nodded, hoping to speak to Hermione when we was able to calm herself. “Hermione. . . . Hermione, please. I need to hear your voice. Hermione, calm down, please, I want to talk to you. Oh, Hermione.”
The only response was a muffled, “Harry,” that was drowned out by more sobbing. After what seemed like an hour – though was really only roughly five minutes – she drew away from him, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and attempted to look him in the eyes, which only caused her to shed another tear.
“Hermione, I thought you were dead! I’ve been. . . Three years I’ve worried. Why didn’t you come back?”
“Harry, how could I? After what I found out. . . Harry, I was scared, and I ran, and I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed, I was upset, I was worried, and I was scared, and. . . and. . . and. ..” She was talking so quickly that she began to get tongue-tied and gasped for breath.
“Hermione, slow down. Everything was fine. We won the fight! And then. . .you left. You were gone. I couldn’t find you. I waited, and you never came. I sent you things, and I never got a response. What happened? Why couldn’t you come home?”
“I got your things, Harry. I stood by my window, refusing to leave the house whenever I thought Hedwig would come. I couldn’t wait to get your letter. I wanted to know how you were, but you never said much about yourself. You always asked about me. It killed me not to respond, but I couldn’t. Harry. . . The week after the battle, I. . .I found out I was pregnant, and I didn’t know . . . didn’t know what you’d think. . . .” He urged her to continue. “So I ran. I was scared. I was so afraid that you would hate me! And, worse than that, that you might not love me anymore! I couldn’t bear the thought. I got scared and I ran, using my parents as the perfect excuse. I battled for months, unable to explain to them everything that had happened. I struggled to come up with names, knowing that one day, you may know. . . When they were born, I knew you’d want me to name them if you weren’t there. Look at James, Harry, he’s the picture of you! Except, of course, he has my eyes. . .And Lily! Oh, she has yours – and your mother’s – eyes, and I thought of coming back, but. . .I was sure you were dating, Harry. I couldn’t come back and just tell you that I had your kids and that your life needed to change. I’m not doing that now. You’ve had a life for three years without me or the kids, and I’ve managed. I don’t expect you to change now, and I just know you probably hate me, but you need to keeping living your life, and. . .” She paused in her story only occasionally to breath, but had stopped here due to a fresh burst of tears.
Harry seized the opportunity to begin talking to her. “Hate you? Hermione, I could never hate you. Move on? What’s the point in trying? For three years, everyone’s told me to move on. I can’t. It’s too painful. Date? Date whom, Hermione? I’m in love with you. I was then. I have been for three years. And I am now. They’re my children, Hermione! Dump them on me? You act as though they’re a burden. They could never be a burden! They require time and responsibility, but Hermione, I’m a father! A father! I have a family! I’ve always wanted a family! I wanted my own family, and Hermione, I want you!”
“But. . .but,” sobbed Hermione, “What about Ginny? I thought you liked her. You did, at one point. Don’t give her up now!”
“Ginny? That was years ago! She’s off dating Neville now. Hermione, I liked her, but she was no you. She was never you. I just, with . . .with Ron not knowing and being confused about you and Luna, I didn’t think I should intrude. I just held off my feelings, but Hermione, I love you!” he exclaimed, which seemed to calm her down considerably.
She stood up for a moment, walked over to where Albus had conjured a crib for the twins, and grabbed them both, only to hand them over to Harry. “James Albus and Lily Minerva. I certainly hope you don’t mind that I used your parents name’s, I just. . .”
“Mind? I love the names! And. . you still have Pig and Crookshanks! Come here, you two!” Harry exclaimed, petting Crookshanks happily and even allowing Pig to rest on his shoulder. He continued talking to Hermione until it had grown late and McGonagall and Dumbledore returned, telling them the time. Harry then asked Hermione if she could, perhaps, call her parents on one of those cellular telephones that some muggles used and then stay with him for the night, to which she obliged. After explaining to her parents that she had run into an old friend, talked for a bit too long, and didn’t want to return so late and in the dark with the children, she hung up, beaming, and told Harry that she would stay with him for the night. At that, Harry went up to Dumbledore, James still in his arms, and shook his and then McGonagall’s hand. Hermione held Lily in her arms and hugged them both, causing Dumbledore to go a slight shade of pink. Then they both thanked them and told them that they would return to socialize later, leaving Albus and Minerva to stand, quite shocked at the happenings that had just occurred.
Harry led her, one hand of his grasping one of hers, through the castle, quite unnecessarily, as she knew the entire castle as well as he. Nonetheless, as they stepped outside, Hermione saw a carriage, which Harry helped her into, and they set off into the night. While in the carriage, they continued talking, Harry beginning. “So, twins, eh? Both of ‘em mine, of course. Wow. They’re. . . they’re so beautiful and handsome. So well behaved, too.”
Hermione stifled a laugh. “Yes, twins. And, amazingly, they are both yours! Now, mum and dad tell me that they’re very well-behaved for their age. Even told me that the two of them are easier as children than I ever was! Of course, I think they’re just being nice, but. . oh, what?” She asked, now looking up to find Harry absolutely beaming amusement.
“Well, first off, I can completely see that, silly ol’ girl you are. And two, we’re here!” He exclaimed happily. He picked up James and stepped out the carriage, then helped Hermione out with Lilly. Crookshanks and Pig followed quickly as Harry explained. “Now, it’s a quaint little cottage, four bedrooms. You can’t see it very well, being dark and all, but we have a lot of land here. Even a forest, way out back! You see, after everything that happened, Buckbeak’s decided to stay here with Sirius permanently and only travel to see Hagrid every few months. Of course, Sirius and I like to have the woods so we can transform and then run through the woods and all, but – Come on, Hermione, come inside!” Harry called excitedly as he opened the door to the house. Inside, Sirius lay sleeping in his animagus form – a large black dog.
The most excited reaction was certainly Crookshanks’s, who leapt through the door and immediately ran up to Sirius. The cat had become close to him years ago with an issue with a certain rat animagus – Peter Pettigrew – arose. Ever since, Crookshanks had taken a liking to Sirius; his only higher loyalty lay to Hermione and her family. Still, he purred excitedly until dog-Sirius awoke and began to bark, liking Crookshanks wildly before becoming human. “Hermione!” he cried, his voice light and his face clean-shaven once more. He’d become much fuller since his escape from Azkaban for a crime he hadn’t committed. He wrapped her in a large hug before grabbed Harry and messing with his hair excitedly. “Oh, and children! Are they-?”
Harry nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sirius, they’re mine. Mine and Hermione’s. James Albus and Lily Minerva. Won’t you look at them?” he asked, pushing them both into Sirius’s arms. Buckbeak was nowhere to be seen, as he had left earlier that day to visit Hagrid. However, Hedwig seemed quite cheery and even obliged Pig and allowed him to sit on her cage and share her water. Everyone seemed in better moods than they had in years – perhaps even before Voldemort’s downfall.
Sirius set them all down at the table before fixing them each some hot chocolate, even pausing to ask Hermione if the kids could have some, to which she said yes, but wondered if he had any marshmallows, as they were Lily’s favorite. “Marshmallows! Well, of course. Ahhh, so like Lily. Lily’s favorite food was marshmallows, did you know that? Oh, how alike they are!” Sirius called happily, setting the cups down. They spent the next hour talking, Hermione repeating some of the story, Harry telling how he’d scraped up some of a living by working odd jobs at the school, and Sirius telling of how depressed he had become, spending little money on even the necessities, instead saving most of it. He also told how Harry liked to transform into his animagus and then roam the woods to get food rather than buy his own. “A complete mess he’s been without you. Nearly withered away. Perhaps now that you’re here, he’ll eat a little more often, eh?” Sirius chuckled.
“I certainly hope so. Mum’s taught me how to cook, so perhaps I could fix us up a bit to eat?” she asked, making her way to stand before Sirius refused and said he’d fix them up something quick. They ate and laughing and talked well into the night before the children fell completely asleep, leading Hermione to request that they also retire. Harry agreed, as did Sirius, who asked if they might all sleep in their animagus form that night, as it was usually more comfortable. They all agreed. He drug some large, soft pillows down from upstairs, and they began to settle in. Sirius, a black wolf, settled near the middle. Crookshanks took a post close to him, allowing James to slip between them for warmth. Harry, a black dog resembling Sirius but slightly smaller and slimmer, took a spot opposite Sirius. Hermione transformed into a lynx with bushy fur around her ears and face, snuggled into the crook he’d formed, and Lily placed herself in front of them. Even Pig was content, sharing Hedwig’s cage and a space next to her. For once, they were at peace, and their lives could begin.
Three years, however, had brought changed – not simply to them, but to many others. Severus Snape, a typically cruel man, had had a large box deposited at his doorstep the week after Voldemort’s defeat. It contained a child, no more than a year old, who he pledged to raise. Of course, he noted with particular fear that the child slightly resembled Tom Riddle and Bellatrix, but he swore to raise the boy properly and not to teach him the Dark Arts. The boy was now four.
Three years also saw many couplings, though few marriages. Of course, it is here that our story begins, in the year 2001.
The girl stepped away from his side to approach the dead woman, grabbing a wand that had fallen by her side. It was her own wand, which had been taken earlier. Having secured the possession, she moved wordlessly back to Harry’s side, a twinkle in her eye despite the fact that she was shaking visibly.
They may have stood like that, in total silence, for hours, had the others behind them not moved. Some began to raise their arms in a silent cheer. Others began to sob, mourning the dead all the while praising the death of their tormentor. Only one dared to break the silence – Madam Pomfrey, a nurse from Hogwarts, who entered the scene quite alarmed. “Everyone seriously injured needs to be placed on a stretcher and brought to the infirmary! Those with less serious injuries will have to wait! Quickly now, everyone. Quickly!” Hermione let out a chuckle at the woman. She was the school nurse and was very energetic, no matter the situation. Harry, however seemed confused. “How did she-?”
He was cut off by a man taller and older than he with dark hair, Professor Snape. “I sent for her . . .Harry. Too many. . .wounded. Knew we’d. . . need her.” He gasped, forcing himself to walk closer to the boy. A cut across his chest was bleeding profusely; yes, many had been wounded. Harry moved quickly to his side to help him stagger away from the crowd. Snape’s loyalty had once been questioned, many times tested, but he turned out to be true to Harry and Dumbledore, not Voldemort. At that moment, Dumbledore conjured several stretchers, then proceeded to lead the most seriously injured people off to the nursing ward. It seems as though other nurses had been called in addition to the school's nurses, because many witches in scrubs were moving through the throngs of people, pulling some aside, placing others on conjured stretchers.
Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, was also flying throughout the crowd, tears rimming his eyes to heal some of those most loyal to Dumbledore. He paused for a moment on Harry's shoulder, landing a tear directly on Harry's bleeding hand, then moved to erase a cut on his neck. Next he hopped to Hermione, shedding a tear for a gash on her cheek, though he ignored the one on her arm which was still bleeding rather badly. He then moved on to Snape, which caused some a bit of a shock, and healed the large, dangerous gash across his chest. Fawkes would only heal those entirely devoted to Dumbledore, and the large bird made no mistakes on this front. With a greatful sigh, Severus thanked the bird and made his way to the nurses ward, now being aided by Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather and a long-time rival of Severus. Black’s three closest friends were dead: James Potter, Harry’s father who had been killed by Voldemort; Remus Lupin, a werewolf who had been murdered two years prior; and Peter Pettigrew, a traitor who betrayed the Potters and was responsible for their murder. Sirius seemed to be taking the end of the battle better than most, but his face was ragged, his eyes sagging with grief despite the glow that his friends’ death – and his own twelve-year imprisonment in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit – was avenged. And now, though he and Snape had been enemies for some time, they had put aside their differences to fight a common rival, and now had reached a sort of a peace between the two.
The people in the battle seemed to all relax, each retreating in different directions before Dumbledore called to everyone, “Please, everyone, remain for the night. We’re all tired, and there’s no need for traveling tonight. Families can be notified with our owls, you can be treated in the ward, and beds will be conjured for everyone. I assure you, all needs can and will be addressed.” At that, people ceased their retreat and made their way to the school. Even those from other countries and schools, including Durmstrang and Beauxbaton stopped heading for the exits and turned, almost merry, towards the meeting hall. Though some were not close to Dumbledore, the idea of rest after so may frightening years and several battles compelled them to overcome such feelings and stay, if only for another day.
Those who were the most badly hurt had been moved to the hospital ward, where several of the nurses had scuttled off to. A few more nurses moved through the rest of the crowd, which, though weak, tired, and hungry, were only scratched. They had requested that the hurt raise their hands and stop a nurse, while the healed or mostly healed move on to the dining hall to congregate. Dumbledore led a group of foreigners that way, laughing jovially. Minerva McGonagall seemed to rounding up healthy students and getting aid for others, though she took particular care with those who had graduated also, calling a nurse over to help Neville, who seemed to have twisted his wrist – again - and Ginny, who had a nasty cut on her leg. After that, she told them to lead a group of sixth and seventh year Hogwarts students back to the school, thorough and careful as usual. The Professor then made her way to Harry and Hermione, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Mr. Potter. I always knew there was something unique about you, but I don’t know that I would have expected this much of you. And Miss Granger, I daresay you have earned your title as the most clever witch of your age – and several others. Tell me, are either of you insured? I saw Fawkes over here, but wanted to double check.”
Hermione hugged the elderly woman and insisted that they both were fine, thanks to Fawkes, when Harry interrupted that Hermione still had a large gash on her arm. McGonagall then called over a nurse who expertly fixed Hermione up, leaving them free to move about the field in hopes of finding others they knew. It wasn’t but a few moments before Ron, struggling to walk on his own and aided by Luna Lovegood, came up to them. “We did it, you guys. We really did it. It’s over. It’s all over.” He seemed a bit incoherent, so Luna thanked them both for letting her be a part of everything before waving to a nurse to help her with Ron. Hermione edged off with them, one arm holding Harry, trying to get him to follow, but he nodded her attention to Ron’s broken leg. “She can take care of him. We’ll see him tonight. You need to rest.” Dean and Seamus, two of Harry’s friends, called them over, and together, they walked back to the Hogwarts dining hall.
That night, everyone gathered for a feast. Even those injured were in attendance, some still in the hospital beds, which had been arranged so that they could eat with everyone else. Harry sat with Hermione to his right and Sirius Black to his left. Ron, on a hospital bed still, sat across from them, and Luna helped him scoop up food onto a large plate. Next to them, Ginny helped Neville cut up his food, his wrist still pained. For once, everyone seemed to rest and be at peace, despite the death of so many. . .
The first day after the battle was for celebrating. Owls had been sent to many, and more showed up at Hogwarts to join the celebration. Neville’s grandmother, a formidable looking woman, even showed up looking happy. The Hogwarts choir sang, and many alumni joined in. Music played, some sang, and some even danced, overwhelmed with joy at the happenings and acting as if they knew that they had best enjoy their time now because serious matters would have to be dealt with soon.
The second day was for mourning. A processional was held for all of those who had passed, whether in the most recent battle or beforehand. Any deaths related to Voldemort and his Death Eaters were mentioned. Harry, Hermione, and Sirius stood slightly in front of the Weasley family, who had nestled a spot by Neville and his grandmother. Ron and Luna seemed torn between staying with their families or going to stand by Harry, so Ron inched up, safely between both. When James and Lily were mentioned, Sirius placed his arm around Harry and whispered in his ear, “You know they are still with you, Harry. And you know, they are very proud.” When Remus Lupin was mentioned, Hermione stifled a sob and Harry comforted Sirius, knowing the two were old friends and that Sirius Black was now the last living Marauder. Even Severus made his way over to Sirius and said a few words of condolence. However, the most marked, severe response to all of the deaths was when the names Percy and Charles Weasley were called. Hermione, who had looked pale and weak during the entire ceremony of hearing so many deaths, finally broke at these names into open sobs. Harry wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and let her rest her head on his chest. Ginny, Ron’s younger and only sister, also broke into tears and allowed herself to be comforted by Neville. Luna put an arm supportively around Ron, who seemed numb. Ron’s living older brothers, George, Fred and Bill surrounded Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who was openly weeping on her husband’s shoulder. The ceremony seemed to stop for minutes on end as people openly sobbed for the loss of the two young boys who had given their lives for the cause. Though Percy had turned rogue for a time, he was still loved and remembered thoughtfully. After those two names had been called, people seemed more open to crying, and the tears poured more openly. After another name or two, Ginny pulled away from Neville, wiping her eyes on her robe. Hermione made to pull away, but Harry pulled her even closer, and she consented to not move just yet, as tears were still rolling off her cheeks and wetting his robe. Far too many had been killed; far too much blood had been spilt. That day was spent with all in tears, mourning the dead and seeing them off. That night, many from foreign lands departed. Others chose to return to their homes in the wizard-occupied sections of London. The rest remained at Hogwarts for another night or two to sort out their travels and other issues.
At the end of the week, as though a switch had flipped in Hermione’s mind, she remembered with a start that her parents were still in Australia without their memory. Knowing that she needed to retrieve them – and now fearing something that she had recently found out – she told Harry that she needed to go – alone, as they didn’t know him, but that she would return soon.
And so, leaving the others to get on with their lives and losses, Hermione went to Australia, dragging along Crookshanks, her cat, whom she had retrieved from the Burrow, also known as the Weasley residence, and Pig, Ron’s owl. He’d been given an owl by Charlie before his death, and Pig had taken a liking to Hermione. Since Ron offered that she’d needed an owl for the journey, and since he’d grown a bit tired of Pig’s restlessness, she had decided to keep him. With them, she arrived in Australia, restored her parent’s memory, and dealt with there initial disappointment. However, they soon realized that her actions were done to protect them, and they welcomed her back lovingly. She managed to divulge some details, mainly that the evil wizard was dead yet many good alliances had died. She’d only managed to squeak out that Lupin and Percy were dead before they told her that she needn’t worry, she was home and safe, and that they didn’t need to know any more. They saw how it pained her to think of them, and offered that the family remain in Australia for a while. Hermione, knowing something that no one else did just yet, agreed, before telling, “I. . . I think I’m pregnant.” Her father was alarmed, but her mother held him back, whispering something in his ear that seemed along the lines of, “Don’t ask about the father. He may be. . . Just don’t, okay, dear? She’s been through so much. I know this is unexpected, but you know her. She’ll manage just the same.” And so, eight months later, Hermione gave birth to twins – one girl and one boy. She had known that Harry was the father, but never expected the kids to look so much like him.. The boy had his dark, untamed hair but her eyes. Hermione named him James Albus. The girl had Hermione’s bushy, brown hair but had Harry’s – and his mother’s – green eyes. Hermione named her Lily Minerva. Her parents did not question their names, only accepted the two little bundles willingly and happily.
Meanwhile, the rest of the wizard world was in quite the ruckus trying to rebuild the ministry as each family rebuilt their lives. Harry now chose to reside permanently with Sirius in a cottage that he had recently bought with plenty of acreage. The reason for this was because when Sirius had run off with Buckbeak, Beaky had taken a liking to Sirius and, given to choice to return to Hagrid or stay with Sirius, he chose to remain with Sirius, visiting Hagrid only a few times each year. Harry took Hedwig along with him and settled comfortable with Sirius, though he could not understand what was taking Hermione so long. He waited for a month, not getting a job, waiting for her. He assumed that her parents were taking the ordeal difficultly, so he waited. He wanted to go after her, but Sirius stopped him. “Harry, she can handle herself. She needs to do this on her own. She will return when she is ready.” Days turned into weeks which turned into months, and Harry grew more worried and ragged. He sent Hedwig with a decent sum of money off to find Hermione, as she had never failed to deliver a package faithfully. She was gone for a month before she returned, empty beaked. She carried no letter, but the letter and money he’d sent with her were gone also. Her face seemed upset, as though she had found the recipient dead, or not at all, and then gotten rid of the package so she could return, but this only threw Harry into denial. Hermione had to be alive, she just had to! But the days continued to pass, and she was nowhere to be found. He continued to send things. However, the toll it took on Hedwig lead him to do it only four times a year – her birthday, Christmas, and then a two times in between. He never received a response, never got anything in return except a tired Hedwig.
However, while Harry was pining for Hermione, Ron too tried to cheer him up. He too knew nothing of her absence, but was thoroughly convinced that she was dead. He tried to tell Harry, who simply pushed him away and demanded that he shut up about it. Nevertheless, Ron remained loyal, often bringing Luna to visit Harry and try to cheer him up. They began dating shortly after the battle.
Ginny too tried to cheer Harry up, though accepted that he would never love her as she once had. She began dating Neville, and they, like Ron and Luna, took to visiting Harry often to try to revive his spirit.
Meanwhile, the rest of the wizard world was setting up the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had stepped in as Minister to help set things in order, leaving Minerva to take over the running of Hogwarts for a time. People began to live once more, including the Weasleys, who were still touched daily by the loss of two sons.
Three years had passed. Harry had turned twenty, yet celebrated as little as possible. In three years, he had not held a real job. He sometimes picked up the slack at Hogwarts, occasionally stepping in to teach a class or help Hagrid. He sometimes went to the transfiguration class for McGonagall and spoke of his learning to become an animagus, which he, Ron, and Hermione had done during their sixth year. With this little money, he bought food and other necessities, living off as little as possible and sending all the rest to Hermione, saving his entire inheritance on the off chance that she would return. It seemed as though he really would never need a real job despite his meager way of living. Fred and George’s joke shop took off, and, as Harry had been a key investor, they sent him money every so often. Luna and Ginny took turns cooking him fresh food every few days also, but he seemed to never eat much.
Hermione, on the other hand, had to live normally for her children’s sake. She was twenty; they were two. They had seen mommy cry many nights, trying to stifle the sounds so that they could not hear, but they did. Hermione tried to accept her fate, deal with the fact that she would never see her friends again, and continue to try to live her life, but the packages from Harry every three months or so made it difficult. The first package took her by surprise. Many galleons had poured out of the sack tied around Hedwig’s leg, as well as a letter telling her he was worried and didn’t know where she was or why she hadn’t returned. She had sent Hedwig away with no response, sad, but knowing that she had to – or at least thinking that she had to. This continued for those three years, each gift coming with a letter. Hermione didn’t know if the packages would ever cease, though she couldn’t say that she wanted them to. She never used the money, preferring to keep the lot of it stored in a chest under her bed, but she always loved and treasured the letter in which she learned how he was doing – always the same, fine but with some odd jobs. She didn’t know why had hadn’t found a real job, at first, until one letter told her that he couldn’t find the strength to do much with her absence, so he spent much time as his animagus form, a black dog like Sirius, roaming the woods. Sometimes, he wrote once, Ron even comes along. Of course, he has to stick with one of us since he’s only a Jack Russel, but he seems to enjoy it. I miss you though. You’d love it. At this, she nearly always finished the letter and then turned into her own animagus form, a lynx with bushy fur around the ears and face. She recalled their own days for a while before becoming human again and trying to put the past behind her.
Hermione was sure that this would be the rest of her life. Always avoiding sending a response, as much as she desired to. Always awaiting the next package and letter she would receive. Finally though, one day, her parents, who had been fully supporting Hermione and the children on their dentist salaries, called her into the kitchen for some terrible news. “Your father has cancer, Hermione, and the best doctors are in London. Plus, he wants to spend some time with his friends and family . . . Dear, we want to go back. If you don’t, we can leave you here, but we really wish you would bring the children and come back with us. . .” Hermione’s eyes glittered with tears at the heart wrenching news but merely nodded. “No, I understand. I’ll pack my things.” With that, she ran and hugged her father before moving into her own room to begin packing.
It was a week later when they set off for London. A family friend had kept up with the house, so it was looking still decent when they arrived. Sure, things needed to be fixed up, but most of the house was still well. That very night, Hermione told her parents that she needed to go somewhere, implying that it had to do with her past n the wizard world, and they complied, offering to babysit the twins. Hermione shook her head, insisting that they accompany her. She became an animagus, told Crookshanks and Pig to behave and act normally, and then returned to her human form. She even wanted them to come on the journey with her. They set off, a twenty year old, her two-year-old twins, a cat, and a small owl; an odd sort of bunch they seemed, making their way through the streets of London before she brought out her wand, which she had kept in good care, to open their way to the magical world.
Upon entering, a few friendly faces seemed to recognize her, smiling brightly and waving, though she recognized few of them. Certainly, those who were most important in the battle were well-known throughout the wizarding world, likely published in several of the papers. She knew that at least two had printed a picture of Harry, Ron, Albus, and herself on their front pages. Undoubtedly, many would recognize her face, as well as those of the many other notables who had helped in defeating the Dark Lord and his cohorts.
Still, she managed to avoid attracting too much attention as she made her way to Hogwarts. Usually, visitors weren’t always or often allowed, but being an alumnus, she was allowed, as were her guests. When they finally arrived at the front door, Lily and James were both sleeping in her arms; Crookshanks paced the path in front of them as though checking for any danger, and even Pig seemed both subdued in his energy yet still alert. They knocked on the door and were greeted – sort of – by the groundskeeper, Filch, who merely grunted before he nearly closed the door on her. At the last moment, he recognized her and beckoned her in with a slightly more friendly sounding grunt. Luckily for Hermione, Professor McGonagall was pacing the halls at that very moment and, upon sight of her, ran up happily and engulfed her in a large hug. “Hermione! We’d all thought you were dead. Killed by something! Of course, no one knew what could be smart enough to find a way to defeat you, but surely! Hedwig’s come back with nothing every time Harry sent her, and we were all so worried, now-” She cut off at the sight of the two children in Hermione’s arms. “Are they-?” Catching Hermione’s nod, she chose not to finish her question. “Well dear, why are you here? Come to find Harry? The children, they-”
“No, Minerva – I mean, Professor! I needed to speak to you and Dumbledore. I need your guidance. I. . . I need your help. No, not to see Harry. I can’t bother him. Just can’t. He’s moved on, I’m sure, found his own life, surely dating, happy, I can’t dump this on him, no, I can’t . . .” She trailed off before Minerva swept the two children up, asking their names. “James Albus and Lily Minerva. I. . . Yes, they’re his, but he doesn’t know. I was scared, I can’t tell him, Professor, I just. .” This time, rather than trail off, she broke into tears, and was ushered some consoling words from McGonagall.
“Come now, child,” the professor said calmly. “I’ll take you to Dumbledore straightaway. Lucky you came tonight; you know, he hasn’t been here that much recently. Trying to sort out things with the Ministry and all. . .”
Little did either of them know that Harry had also chosen to visit Hogwarts that very night. He’d make the trek earlier that day to visit Hagrid and had ended up in Dumbledore’s old office, seated across from his old headmaster, nearly in tears. He’d gone to Dumbledore several times over the past three years, mourning the losses and looking for guidance as to what to do about Hermione’s disappearance. Each time, Dumbledore told him the same thing. “She will come back, Harry, when she chooses and is able.” Each time, Harry shook his head in frustration, insisting that he should go do something, but each time Dumbledore rejected the notion, insisting that a girl like Hermione would come around. He, for one, rejected all ideas that she was dead.
McGonagall held Lily in one arm and had Hermione by one hand, who held James. They approached the usual entrance to the headmaster or mistress’s residence, which included causing a staircase to appear behind a statue, which appeared and then took them to the top. Seeing that Albus was speaking to Harry, Minerva attempted to stop Hermione from entering, but the sudden jolt of the stairwell stopping had caused Hermione to nearly charge forward. Upon seeing Harry, she let out a small squeak and hid her face behind James.
“Ahhh, yes, Harry, like I said. She would make herself known when she was ready and, alas, it appears that she is, indeed, ready. Er, sort of, but close enough. She is clearly not dead! Oh Hermione, let me see you, darling!” Dumbledore cried out loudly, his smile growing wider by the moment, seeming close to overtaking his entire face when his eyes set sight upon the twins. “Why Hermione, are they. . .are they yours?” He asked, his voice betraying his surprise despite his joy at the thought.
Minerva, deeming Hermione unable to speak because she still hid her face, answered in response, “Yes, Albus. And do you know what she named them? Lily Minerva and James Albus! What an honor, truly.” That being said, she plucked James out of Hermione’s hands and transferred him to Dumbledore’s, allowing the headmaster to appreciate the young life that was before him. “Well, would ya look at that, Harry! She even named ‘em after me, too! How delightful!” Dumbledore exclaimed before a look from Minerva told him that he had best quite himself to that Hermione and Harry could speak.
Harry, however, seemed as unable to speak as Hermione. His face, which had lit up upon her arrival, was an odd twist of both extreme joy and severe shock. He had honestly, sort of, thought her dead; but alas, she was alive! And yet, why hadn’t she written? Why had she taken to long to return? Nevertheless, in the rush of emotions, he forgot to question her and instead moved to her side and embraced her lovingly before completely sweeping her off of her feet and setting her down next to him on the couch. He managed to gasp out her name, but she said nothing in return. Rather, she had buried her head in his chest, tears still streaming from her face. She was entirely unable to even mutter a response, so he simply held her, trying to calm her.
Minerva caught his eye and made a motion indicating that she and Dumbledore were going to return to the other side of his study, so that he and Hermione could have a bit of privacy. Harry nodded, hoping to speak to Hermione when we was able to calm herself. “Hermione. . . . Hermione, please. I need to hear your voice. Hermione, calm down, please, I want to talk to you. Oh, Hermione.”
The only response was a muffled, “Harry,” that was drowned out by more sobbing. After what seemed like an hour – though was really only roughly five minutes – she drew away from him, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and attempted to look him in the eyes, which only caused her to shed another tear.
“Hermione, I thought you were dead! I’ve been. . . Three years I’ve worried. Why didn’t you come back?”
“Harry, how could I? After what I found out. . . Harry, I was scared, and I ran, and I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed, I was upset, I was worried, and I was scared, and. . . and. . . and. ..” She was talking so quickly that she began to get tongue-tied and gasped for breath.
“Hermione, slow down. Everything was fine. We won the fight! And then. . .you left. You were gone. I couldn’t find you. I waited, and you never came. I sent you things, and I never got a response. What happened? Why couldn’t you come home?”
“I got your things, Harry. I stood by my window, refusing to leave the house whenever I thought Hedwig would come. I couldn’t wait to get your letter. I wanted to know how you were, but you never said much about yourself. You always asked about me. It killed me not to respond, but I couldn’t. Harry. . . The week after the battle, I. . .I found out I was pregnant, and I didn’t know . . . didn’t know what you’d think. . . .” He urged her to continue. “So I ran. I was scared. I was so afraid that you would hate me! And, worse than that, that you might not love me anymore! I couldn’t bear the thought. I got scared and I ran, using my parents as the perfect excuse. I battled for months, unable to explain to them everything that had happened. I struggled to come up with names, knowing that one day, you may know. . . When they were born, I knew you’d want me to name them if you weren’t there. Look at James, Harry, he’s the picture of you! Except, of course, he has my eyes. . .And Lily! Oh, she has yours – and your mother’s – eyes, and I thought of coming back, but. . .I was sure you were dating, Harry. I couldn’t come back and just tell you that I had your kids and that your life needed to change. I’m not doing that now. You’ve had a life for three years without me or the kids, and I’ve managed. I don’t expect you to change now, and I just know you probably hate me, but you need to keeping living your life, and. . .” She paused in her story only occasionally to breath, but had stopped here due to a fresh burst of tears.
Harry seized the opportunity to begin talking to her. “Hate you? Hermione, I could never hate you. Move on? What’s the point in trying? For three years, everyone’s told me to move on. I can’t. It’s too painful. Date? Date whom, Hermione? I’m in love with you. I was then. I have been for three years. And I am now. They’re my children, Hermione! Dump them on me? You act as though they’re a burden. They could never be a burden! They require time and responsibility, but Hermione, I’m a father! A father! I have a family! I’ve always wanted a family! I wanted my own family, and Hermione, I want you!”
“But. . .but,” sobbed Hermione, “What about Ginny? I thought you liked her. You did, at one point. Don’t give her up now!”
“Ginny? That was years ago! She’s off dating Neville now. Hermione, I liked her, but she was no you. She was never you. I just, with . . .with Ron not knowing and being confused about you and Luna, I didn’t think I should intrude. I just held off my feelings, but Hermione, I love you!” he exclaimed, which seemed to calm her down considerably.
She stood up for a moment, walked over to where Albus had conjured a crib for the twins, and grabbed them both, only to hand them over to Harry. “James Albus and Lily Minerva. I certainly hope you don’t mind that I used your parents name’s, I just. . .”
“Mind? I love the names! And. . you still have Pig and Crookshanks! Come here, you two!” Harry exclaimed, petting Crookshanks happily and even allowing Pig to rest on his shoulder. He continued talking to Hermione until it had grown late and McGonagall and Dumbledore returned, telling them the time. Harry then asked Hermione if she could, perhaps, call her parents on one of those cellular telephones that some muggles used and then stay with him for the night, to which she obliged. After explaining to her parents that she had run into an old friend, talked for a bit too long, and didn’t want to return so late and in the dark with the children, she hung up, beaming, and told Harry that she would stay with him for the night. At that, Harry went up to Dumbledore, James still in his arms, and shook his and then McGonagall’s hand. Hermione held Lily in her arms and hugged them both, causing Dumbledore to go a slight shade of pink. Then they both thanked them and told them that they would return to socialize later, leaving Albus and Minerva to stand, quite shocked at the happenings that had just occurred.
Harry led her, one hand of his grasping one of hers, through the castle, quite unnecessarily, as she knew the entire castle as well as he. Nonetheless, as they stepped outside, Hermione saw a carriage, which Harry helped her into, and they set off into the night. While in the carriage, they continued talking, Harry beginning. “So, twins, eh? Both of ‘em mine, of course. Wow. They’re. . . they’re so beautiful and handsome. So well behaved, too.”
Hermione stifled a laugh. “Yes, twins. And, amazingly, they are both yours! Now, mum and dad tell me that they’re very well-behaved for their age. Even told me that the two of them are easier as children than I ever was! Of course, I think they’re just being nice, but. . oh, what?” She asked, now looking up to find Harry absolutely beaming amusement.
“Well, first off, I can completely see that, silly ol’ girl you are. And two, we’re here!” He exclaimed happily. He picked up James and stepped out the carriage, then helped Hermione out with Lilly. Crookshanks and Pig followed quickly as Harry explained. “Now, it’s a quaint little cottage, four bedrooms. You can’t see it very well, being dark and all, but we have a lot of land here. Even a forest, way out back! You see, after everything that happened, Buckbeak’s decided to stay here with Sirius permanently and only travel to see Hagrid every few months. Of course, Sirius and I like to have the woods so we can transform and then run through the woods and all, but – Come on, Hermione, come inside!” Harry called excitedly as he opened the door to the house. Inside, Sirius lay sleeping in his animagus form – a large black dog.
The most excited reaction was certainly Crookshanks’s, who leapt through the door and immediately ran up to Sirius. The cat had become close to him years ago with an issue with a certain rat animagus – Peter Pettigrew – arose. Ever since, Crookshanks had taken a liking to Sirius; his only higher loyalty lay to Hermione and her family. Still, he purred excitedly until dog-Sirius awoke and began to bark, liking Crookshanks wildly before becoming human. “Hermione!” he cried, his voice light and his face clean-shaven once more. He’d become much fuller since his escape from Azkaban for a crime he hadn’t committed. He wrapped her in a large hug before grabbed Harry and messing with his hair excitedly. “Oh, and children! Are they-?”
Harry nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sirius, they’re mine. Mine and Hermione’s. James Albus and Lily Minerva. Won’t you look at them?” he asked, pushing them both into Sirius’s arms. Buckbeak was nowhere to be seen, as he had left earlier that day to visit Hagrid. However, Hedwig seemed quite cheery and even obliged Pig and allowed him to sit on her cage and share her water. Everyone seemed in better moods than they had in years – perhaps even before Voldemort’s downfall.
Sirius set them all down at the table before fixing them each some hot chocolate, even pausing to ask Hermione if the kids could have some, to which she said yes, but wondered if he had any marshmallows, as they were Lily’s favorite. “Marshmallows! Well, of course. Ahhh, so like Lily. Lily’s favorite food was marshmallows, did you know that? Oh, how alike they are!” Sirius called happily, setting the cups down. They spent the next hour talking, Hermione repeating some of the story, Harry telling how he’d scraped up some of a living by working odd jobs at the school, and Sirius telling of how depressed he had become, spending little money on even the necessities, instead saving most of it. He also told how Harry liked to transform into his animagus and then roam the woods to get food rather than buy his own. “A complete mess he’s been without you. Nearly withered away. Perhaps now that you’re here, he’ll eat a little more often, eh?” Sirius chuckled.
“I certainly hope so. Mum’s taught me how to cook, so perhaps I could fix us up a bit to eat?” she asked, making her way to stand before Sirius refused and said he’d fix them up something quick. They ate and laughing and talked well into the night before the children fell completely asleep, leading Hermione to request that they also retire. Harry agreed, as did Sirius, who asked if they might all sleep in their animagus form that night, as it was usually more comfortable. They all agreed. He drug some large, soft pillows down from upstairs, and they began to settle in. Sirius, a black wolf, settled near the middle. Crookshanks took a post close to him, allowing James to slip between them for warmth. Harry, a black dog resembling Sirius but slightly smaller and slimmer, took a spot opposite Sirius. Hermione transformed into a lynx with bushy fur around her ears and face, snuggled into the crook he’d formed, and Lily placed herself in front of them. Even Pig was content, sharing Hedwig’s cage and a space next to her. For once, they were at peace, and their lives could begin.
Three years, however, had brought changed – not simply to them, but to many others. Severus Snape, a typically cruel man, had had a large box deposited at his doorstep the week after Voldemort’s defeat. It contained a child, no more than a year old, who he pledged to raise. Of course, he noted with particular fear that the child slightly resembled Tom Riddle and Bellatrix, but he swore to raise the boy properly and not to teach him the Dark Arts. The boy was now four.
Three years also saw many couplings, though few marriages. Of course, it is here that our story begins, in the year 2001.
