Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling, as always, except for Kimberly, James, Spencer, and any other characters you haven't heard of before. Lady Madonna belongs to The Beatles.
A/N: I was inspired to write this when I was watching "Tina Takes a Break", which is a brilliant short-film that was on TV the other day. Ginourmous hugs, thanks and e-cookies go to Rachel, who beta-read the slang for me!
My Fair Lady
Hermione zipped up Spencer's yellow puffa jacket and bundled him into the battered buggy. Wheeling him outside she checked that James and Kimberly were following and set off along the endless walkway, suspended seven floors from the ground. When they reached the stairwell, she lifted the squalling toddler into her arms.
"You take that," she told James, indicating the buggy. He obliged without a word. Six-year-old Kimberly trailed behind, sniffling and wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
Out on the grass in front of the block, Janine stood alone, shivering slightly and rummaging in her canvas shoulder bag. The wind sent her heavy ankle-length skirt blowing around her legs and her long red hair whipping her face. She looked up as Hermione approached.
"Marnie!" she exclaimed, placing slightly squashed kitkats into the children's eager hands.
"Hey Jan," Hermione acknowledged, and the two women began to walk down the litter-strewn pavement, chatting amicably about "Lou's Ben" winning a scholarship at the "posh school" and how Janine's own son was getting on up in Blackpool.
"Mum," Kimberly whined plaintively. "Can 'ave an ice cream?"
"Can 'I' have, Kim."
The little girl scowled. "Can I 'ave, then?"
Hermione fished around in her pocket and came up with a fifty-pence coin. "All right then, but mind you share it with James."
Exchanging gleeful grins, the children scampered towards the ice cream van, bickering noisily.
Hermione and Janine joined a group of women leaning against a fence. A short distance away, a group of scruffy teenage boys were leaping all over the place trying to impress a gaggle of bored-looking girls.
"You 'eard?" Lou, a scrawny blonde woman with dark roots asked Hermione.
"Heard what?"
Lou hitched up her adidas tracksuit bottoms and began to fiddle with one of the gold chains around her neck. "'Bout Trace. 'Er husbands only gone an' fuckin' lost it, 'asn' 'he? Killed 'er an' the kids an' 'e dun a runner. I 'eard there was blood everywhere. Even on the fuckin' ceiling!"
"You're kidding!" Hermione gasped, feeling slightly sick. Tracy was a dumpy brunette, who had lived with her husband and five kids on the ground floor of the same block as Hermione on the estate. "What are they doing about it?"
"What, the coppers? Pissin' about, of course! What else d'you fuckin' expec'?" Lou turned away, muttering "Posh bleedin' cow" under her breath.
The words stung. The old Hermione would have left then. Walked away crying. But the new Hermione had learned how to deal with a situation like this.
"Fuck off," she retorted.
"Fuck off yerself," Lou replied, and that was it. Situation saved. Everyone friends again.
Suddenly, a woman came rushing down the road towards them, slightly red in the face and panting for breath. "You'll never guess!" she exclaimed. "Our Tina says one ov the kids is still alive! She saw 'im get taked 'way in an ambulance!"
"Its 'im I feel for," Janine added sagely. "Be the childrens 'ome fer 'im. Prob'ly better off there than where 'e was before, mind."
All the women nodded their agreement, Hermione felt a small hand tugging at her trouser leg and looked down at her daughter's ice cream covered face..
"Mum, I'm 'ungry!"
"All right, Kim. I'll take you home for supper now. James, get over here!" With Spencer shoved unceremoniously back into his buggy, Hermione headed back to the flats, waving to the group of women, many of whom were beginning to call their own children over and get ready to leave.
It was strange, she mused, that when she was younger, she would never have demeaned herself by associating with people like these. Most of them were alright, once you got to know them, but she knew that, if she hadn't had to, she would never have bothered.
Suddenly, she was snapped out of her reveries by a scene of chaos ahead of her. A large area outside Tracy's flat was cordoned off and official-looking people were milling everywhere. At first Hermione thought they were the police, but her heart gave a sickening lurch as she noticed the emblem on their uniforms.
A gold star on a blue background - the sign of an auror.
Of course, they pretended to the muggles that they were just a specialised police force for whatever type of crime had been committed, but Hermione was no muggle. She knew who they were.
The kids had gone silent, fascinated by the commotion. Hermione moved closer, straining her ears to try and catch what the wizards were saying, but she found herself confronted by a harassed looking woman.
"I'm afraid you can't go any further, Miss," she said, making vague flapping motions with her hands. "This is a crime scene."
Hermione was not going to be deterred that easily. "Why have the aurors been called in?" she asked.
The woman's face relaxed a little. "Oh, you're one of us, are you? I'm sure you've heard that there was a murder here? Well, the man who committed it was a wizard, so we're better equipped to deal with it than the muggle police force. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to tell you anything else."
Thanks," Hermione surveyed the scene wistfully. She had wanted to be an auror when she was little - she had even got the highest ever mark in her Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. But that was before…before everything. It was strange to be around wizards again, having been so totally cut off from them for so many years.
The children started to whine again, so she turned to leave.
She never knew what made her turn around one last time as she walked towards the staircase. Call it fate, or a sixth sense, but whatever it was, she did. And as she did, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a man with a shock of black hair and a pair of silver rimmed glasses.
At that moment, he looked up and saw her. His mouth fell open and they stared at each other across the crowd for a second in which time seemed to stand still. In that moment Hermione took in every detail of his familiar face. The gentle curve of his jaw, the bright, expression-filled green eyes, the thin, red scar that still adorned his forehead.
She saw his mouth move as he said something to the man standing next to him, then he hurried through the people towards her. She wasn't sure she could face seeing him again and her instinct told her to leave, to run. But her feet remained glued to the ground.
Then he stood in front of her, his lips soundlessly forming the shape of her name. "Hermione," he finally forced out. "Hermione."
"Hello Harry," she said in a voice so perfectly calm that she marvelled at it.
"Hermione," he said again, his eyes wide.
She tipped her head on one side. "Yes Harry, it's me."
He shook his head and came to his senses. "I…you…How are you?"
Hermione laughed gently. "You haven't seen me in nine years and all you can say is 'How are you?'!"
He smiled sheepishly, then his gaze settled on the children. He looked at her inquiringly.
She answered his silent question. "Harry, this is James, Kimberly and Spencer, my children. Kids, this is my old friend Harry Potter."
If anything, he looked even more confused. "You…you're a mother?"
"Why else do you think they kicked me out of Hogwarts?" she asked him with a half-smile and a hint of bitterness.
"What's Hogwarts, Mum?" Kimberly asked.
"I'll explain later, Kim." Hermione said hurriedly. Spencer began to cry noisily.
"Harry! We need you!" a voice carried over from the doorway of the flat.
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in that endearing way Hermione remembered. "Look, I'll have to go," he said. "Um, you couldn't meet me for dinner or something, could you?"
"Hmm, I'll have to see if Jan can look after the kids…" she mused out loud, trying to calm the wailing toddler.
"I'll see you here, at about eight? I don't finish until then," he said, beginning to back away.
"All right," Hermione agreed. "I'll be there."
***
I am not doing this
, Hermione told herself firmly as she walked down the shadowy corridor. I am not. I will turn around and go home. I am not going to meet him.She willed her feet to stop moving, but they had taken on a life of their own. She continued to the end of the passage and turned the corner. The last thing I want is to see him again. It'll hurt too much. I am not going to do this.
The area outside Tracy's flat looked much more civilised now. Only a few wizards still lingered there, chatting and comparing notes. Harry was standing alone, obviously waiting for her. He hasn't seen me yet - there's still time. I can still turn around and go home.
"Hermione!" he waved and jogged over to her. Turn around, turn around, run away.
He reached her and they looked at each other awkwardly for a moment.
"Uh, shall we go? I'm starving!" he proclaimed.
The drive into town was terrible. They sat almost in silence all the way, with one or the other of them occasionally making some inane remark about the weather. This is the boy I used to tell everything to. He knew more about me than anyone else on earth. Now I can't even make effective small talk with him.
"So," Harry began gingerly as they sat at the table by the window of the restaurant. "You're a mother."
"Yes, Kim and James and Spencer…they're my life now."
"So what's it like?"
"What, being a single parent with no money, or living in a god-forsaken dump like this?"
"Is it really that bad?" he asked. Hermione immediately detected the pity in his voice. He has no right to pity me. He has no idea what any of this is like for me!
"No, it's worse." She sat for a moment, looking at her hands, then her tone grew harder. "Why did you abandon me Harry? After I left not one of you tried to contact me."
"We tried! You weren't at your house and our owls just brought our letters back to us!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You didn't try for very long, did you? I stayed at a hostel until the baby was born - it was muggle and owls couldn't reach me there. After that I got a council flat here. I was five months pregnant when I left Hogwarts, so I was only at the hostel for four months. You could have contacted me after that, but you gave up."
He studied the table. "I know there's no excuse, but we thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore. You left so suddenly, and none of the teachers would tell us why."
"A real friend wouldn't have needed to be told. For five whole months I was throwing up in the mornings and wishing I could die, but you didn't notice."
Harry scowled. "I wish you wouldn't keep referring to it as though it was only me. Ron and the others didn't notice either!"
Hermione gave a bitter laugh. "Yes, but you were my boyfriend. I thought you loved me."
"Hermione, I did!"
"Only "did"?" she asked, with a trace of sadness in her voice.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing."
Harry looked thoughtful. "You called one of them James."
"I like the name," she said defensively.
"Was he…" Harry faltered. "Is he…mine?"
Hermione leaned her head on her hand. "No Harry, he isn't."
"But…we were going out! Who then?"
"You don't know him. He's a muggle, a friend of a friend who I met over the holidays. I was drunk, it only happened once and I regretted it immediately afterward."
"Oh," Harry sat back meditatively, absorbing this new piece of information. "Oh."
"I'm sorry?" Hermione offered. Damn him! Why do I feel sorry now? It's not even like he ever really cared about me.
"Doesn't really matter now, does it?" Harry said. "It was a long time ago."
"I missed you." Why did I have to say that? How stupid am I?
"I missed you too Hermione," he sounded sincere. "You don't think we could, you know, give it another go."
For a moment Hermione's heart leapt, then it plunged to her feet again. "No Harry, you don't really mean that. My life is already messed up. You still have a chance to make something of yours. You're only saying that because you feel guilty."
"No, Hermione, really…" He doesn't know what he's saying. I wish he wouldn't do this - it gets my hopes up even though I know he's hoping I'll turn him down. I can't take this anymore.
Hermione jumped to her feet. "I have to go now," she blurted, grabbing her coat and hurrying out of the door.
As she passed the window, their eyes met one last time through the misty glass. "I love you," she mouthed, then walked away.
Unseen by her, Harry stared at her retreating back, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. "I love you too Hermione," he said.
~~~~~
Lady Madonna, children at your feet
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet
Who find the money when you pay the rent.
Did you think that money was heaven sent?
Friday night arrives without a suitcase
Sunday morning creeping like a nun
Monday's child has learned to tie his bootlegs
See how they run
Lady Madonna, baby at your breast
Wonders how you manage to feed the rest
Pa pa pa pa...
See how they run
Lady Madonna lying on the bed
Listen to the music playing in your head
Tuesday afternoon is never ending
Wednesday morning papers didn't come
Thursday night you stocking needed mending
See how they run
Lady Madonna, children at your feet
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet
~ The Beatles