Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K and Warner Bros. I don't own anything, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Battle of Hogwarts was in 2007 (when the book series ended).

Present is 2013. My heroes are in their early to mid twenties. This story is FemHarry oriented. We are following most of the events of the cannon.

The Italics are a flashback

"Ms. Potter!"

Olivia Potter stepped through the great fire place of Hogwarts Infrimary and was instantly swallowed into a friendly embrace.

"Madam Pomfrey, how are you?" she asked, her smile full of mirth. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Olivia looked down at the matron nurse and saw that time had not changed the older witch. Her bonnet was starched and pinned perfectly to curly white locks and her maroon and white uniform had not a frayed thread in sight.

"It's not everyday that such an esteemed alumna returns to the castle for a visit," Madam Pomfrey teased.

A flush of embarrassment spread across Olivia's face and she ran a hand through her wild, raven colored locks. Nothing made her more nervous than praise for her celebrity.

Madam Pomfrey gave her former charge a once over. She noted that Potter's Quidditch tan had long since faded, but the slightly olive coloring she had inherited from her father remained. Potter had grown into a beautiful young woman, but in this present moment she looked unwell, like she hadn't been sleeping. "How are you?"

"Mgh," Olivia shrugged her shoulders as she pulled away. Then the young heroine bowed her head, shuffling her feet nervously. "I came because I needed your help. A favor. Well, two favors."

From under her lashes, she saw Madam Pomfrey's pale blue orbs crinkle in amusement.

"Intrigue still follows you around like a shadow, I see," Madam Pomfrey sighed taking a few short steps to her desk.

Olivia let out a bitter laugh. "You have no idea," she confessed.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to take pity on her. Delicately, she raised her arms inviting Olivia to sit. "I would be honored to help you. Why don't you tell me what you need, Potter? Start from the beginning."

Slowly, Olivia came to the desk and sank into the worn brown leather chair. Idly she traced patterns into the smooth fabric. She wondered how many students had sat here and spilled their guts in this chair. What secrets could this office tell? Olivia took a deep breath and picked up the scent of sandalwood. That smell took her right back to the beginning, the night her life went completely askew.

Olivia had turned to leave, but with his quick reflexes, he reached out and pulled her back to him.

"Stop running from me," he commanded. His voice was rough and she could feel his warm breath in her ear.

Olivia's heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the heat of his skin radiating over her skin and part of her desperately wanted to lean into him. To breathe in his intoxicating scent. Lemongrass, sandalwood and man. "I shouldn't be here," she whimpered, licking her dry lips. "Let me go."

"You don't want to go home." His voice was strong and sure. "I know you."

His smug tone of voice sent her blood boiling. She turned to face him, her green eyes blazing.

"You have never known anything about me! I'm going home and I will never come back here."

His haughty laughter filled the foyer. Olivia rolled her eyes and pushed her hands into his muscled chest, but he caught her hands. Gently, he intertwined their fingers and presented them to her.

A soft smile graced the chiseled planes of his face and his eyes burned into her.

"I know you better than anyone. Just the way you know me," he told her. "We've been doing this dance for a long time now. I want more...I want you. Stay with me."

"Ms. Potter," Madam Pomfrey called. Olivia's head jerked up in surprise. She blinked twice, suddenly alert.

"Ugh...sorry," she whispered. "My mind just drifted off. I'm so tired all of a sudden."

Madam Pomfrey folded her hands under her chin. "Don't tell me you came here for a simple Pepper-Up Potion," she frowned. "You're almost a certified Healer now! Surely you can whip those up yourself."

"No, it's not Pepper-Up that I'll be needing today. I came here because the foremost thing I need is your discretion. I can't really get that at St. Mungo's. The novelty of me working there hasn't faded and I don't want this getting out."

The older witch's brow furrowed in concern. "Of course, you have my silence. What else do you need Olivia, tell me."

"Tell me," he begged, his voice insistent and firm. Somehow their clothes were gone and they were in bed. His mouth was so close to hers, but he'd yet to kiss her.

In a tender motion, Olivia brought her hands up placed them on either side of his face.

"I want this," she told him, her words echoing with desire. "I want you."

He breathed a sigh-of-relief and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Good."

They kissed; their bodies curled together, a tangle of lips, teeth and limbs. He entered her without warning. Olivia moaned into his mouth. She'd never felt like this. So complete.

"I...I'm pregnant Madam Pomfrey."

Her reaction was what Olivia had expected. Madam Pomfrey bounced in her seat, full of glee.

"Oh, Ms. Potter!" she clapped. "You nearly gave me a fright. You looked so grave, child. Let's run a quick diagnostics test just to be sure. Everything will be fine. I'm sure Mr. Weasley will be delighted if it's positive."

Olivia tugged on the roots of her hair and hung her head in shame.

"I'm not so sure about that. Here's the crux of the matter; I'm not sure that this baby is even his."

AN: I'd love a beta. Let me know if you're interested.