[A/N]: Woo! It's my turn (: Yes, this is Mary [.camera] speaking. So any mistakes and whatnot that you may encounter that you want to criticize, aim it at moi. And thanks, Tiah and Irene (shatteredtomorrow), for fixing it up here and there (Y) I don't know where I'll be without you guys
The title comes from Stuck With Each Other by Shontelle ft. Akon.
Disclaimer: Do you honestly believe that I am even going to TRY to claim characters I could only dream of owning? C'mon. Get out of town.
You Know That We're In This Together.
"Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting… you to say you'd help." Harry mumbled as he opened the door to his house. I was almost offended, until I remembered I really wasn't going to help take care of Alessia at one point. My own shame chastened me.
Standing at the threshold, I could see empty pizza boxes, half-empty bottles of Butterbeer and crisp packets scattered everywhere. I shifted Alessia into a more comfortable position on my hip (Harry had passed her over to me so he could fish the house key from his pocket) as Harry led us around, murmuring an introduction to each of the rooms.
"This is the kitchen… dining area… living room." He led us up some stairs, his hand running smoothly over the wooden banister.
I wish he'd run his hands over me li – No. Bad Hermione.
"Up here we've got my office, the bathroom, the guest room and the spare room," he drawled, pointing lazily at each of the doors we passed. As we travelled further down the narrow hallway, a large set of double doors appeared on our right. "That's the Master Bedroom."
He looked back at me, gaze smoldering with some unknown emotion. My throat went dry and I could only nod.
Slowly, we made our way back to the kitchen, where Harry settled down at the table and pulled out the adoption forms from a briefcase I only just noticed he was carrying. I removed last week's Daily Prophet from a vacant chair opposite him and absorbed the room.
When you looked past the scattered rubbish lying around, the place seemed lonely.
There weren't many pictures of family or friends – just expensive-looking art hung here and there. I didn't know whether to feel remorseful or pleased.
Over Alessia's head, I stole a glance at the busy man across from me. It's been years since I last had a chance to even look at the guy. My eyes travelled from his concentrated face to his chest. I wonder if he has abs. I pictured myself lifting his shirt off his body, but stopped myself before anything… sexual could enter my mind.
No. There you go again. Bad Hermione.
Sighing, I distracted myself with Alessia. This was it; I was going to be responsible for a baby with a man I hadn't even spoken to for the past 4 years. I never really knew what it was like to be a mother, to have that responsibility to care for a child – to choose what they wear, when they sleep, what they eat. It was always my wish every birthday to have a baby brother or sister; however, one was enough for two busy dentists.
I cradled the fragile package in my arms, soothing it to sleep as Harry filled out the rest of the paper work. Apart from the odd question or two about my details, not a single word was uttered between us.
There's only so long you could stare at a sleeping baby, so I looked at other methods of busying myself before my mind got carried away. I glimpsed briefly at Harry – who was still filling out the adoption papers – before placing my focus on the Daily Prophet that I discarded. The two pictures of familiar faces prompted me to read the article.
MUGGLE SHOOTING LEADS TO DEATH.
Three Muggle men have been charged over the death of our very own Ronald and Luna Weasley at 9:43PM last night at their home in St Ottery Catchpole.
It has been reported that the weapons used in the attack are called "guns".
A fellow wizard neighbor, Dean Thomas, heard the gun shots and rushed outside to discover the bloodied bodies of the couple, who appeared to have been sitting by the window, which the bullets penetrated.
"It was horrible. I knew them way back since our childhood days," says the shaken Mr. Thomas. "Today was their anniversary too…"
Aurors arrived at the scene after being alerted by Mr. Thomas to find that both their wands were left upstairs, deeming them unable to protect themselves from the Muggle attack.
Attempts to revive the couple were unsuccessful.
A baby was also found, unharmed and crying in an upstairs room, believed (and later confirmed) to be the daughter of the two victims. Alessia Weasley, 14 months, is currently living with Mr. and Mrs. Ginny and Blaise Zabini until permanent accommodations can be arranged. A dedication to the late couple can be found on Page-
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I gasped at the electric shock that it gave me. I quickly looked up and made contact with somber green eyes, deeper than the Black Lake. Another hand was used to gently wipe away the wet trails on my face, which were only replaced by another wave of hot tears.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye," I choked as Harry carefully cradled Alessia and I in strong arms, unknowingly alleviating the pain in my chest.
After I settled down to just quiet whimpers, he pulled away from me, taking Alessia in his arms as he did.
"They left you something – Ron and Luna, I mean…" he murmured. "I'll show it to you after we put this little one to bed." He lightly touched Alessia on the nose.
Before surprise could appear on my face, he grabbed my hand with his free one and escorted me back upstairs.
He led me to the spare room, opening the door to reveal a complete nursery. A cot in the corner – with a gorgeous lady-bug cover set – sat opposite a small, multi-coloured chest of drawers that surprisingly blended well with the colour scheme. There was a small armoire to the left of that, and an assortment of commonplace nursery items around the room. I couldn't believe that he had this set-up – on such short notice, at that.
After placing Alessia in her crib in the spare room and giving her a kiss on her forehead, he led me to the double doors that would open up to the master bedroom. The audible reaction that was evoked up on the sight of the wooden doors made me blush.
As soon as Harry opened the door, I understood why there weren't my pictures of family or friends around the house – every picture; every object with sentimental value was concentrated in this room. As Harry rummaged around, opening various drawers, I gazed around at the different moving photos that lined the walls, and was surprised to see a few that were stationary, as well. A single framed photo opposite the bed caught my attention, and I walked slowly over to it. My fingers whispered across the happy faces of three children, waving at the camera continuously.
I heard the shuffling stop, and felt Harry's presence behind. "This was –" I started.
"– after the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
I nodded, displaying the fact that I already knew where and when the picture had been taken – although, I didn't feel offended. After all this time, no-one really expected me to remember much. I continued to gaze at the three of us: Ron, with his wild red hair, Harry, slightly smoking after battling the Hungarian Horntail, and me.
Me, with my arms draped over both of their shoulders.
"Yeah - after you two apologized over that stupid argument." I smirked, turning to him. A beautiful chuckle emitted from his mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair guiltily.
Fuck – that looked sexy as hell.
"… Yes, I vaguely remember you playing the neutral party – trying to knock some sense into the two of us."
"Like that helped. Both of you refused to apologize without the other doing it first."
It wasn't long before the mental and emotional barriers that each of us had erected began tumbling down. Any prior awkwardness became non-existent as we excitedly recounted many memories from our time at Hogwarts. We didn't notice, however, that: One, we had sat down next to each other on the plush comforter adorning the king-size bed or two, that with each moment we summed up, our faces drew closer together.
It wasn't long before our faces were a mere inch away. Our laughter died away. His breathing became rugged as we stared into each other's eyes. I bit my lip. His eyes widened and darted back and forth from my bottom lip to my eyes, causing my mouth to slacken and my teeth to release my captured lip.
"… Don't – you'll hurt yourself." he whispered. Without breaking his stare, he lowered his hand and grabbed mine, pulling it to his chest. With the other, he pressed a small, folded piece of paper into my palm and stood up, moving away from the bed.
"Luna told me if the two of them should di – if anything were to happen to them, I was to give that to you."
I opened it up. Luna's whirly writing was scrawled across the page.
Dearest Hermione,
I know that life is really unexpected. One minute you could be enjoying it and the next, you're gone, which is why I'm writing you this letter – I didn't want to give it to our lawyer in case he wanted to read it. It's meant for your eyes only, and I trust Harry to give it to you without delay, and without reading it.
A few days ago, I had a vision – I believe it was my Seer genetics finally coming into play! – of our deaths. There is not much we can do to prevent death, unfortunately, and both Ron and I accept our fates.
For now, though, I place Alessia in yours and Harry's capable hands. There's only so much conflict that the both of you can go through and they say that it is conflict that molds and shapes a beautiful relationship. I'm positive that you two will be loving guardians to our baby girl.
Love always,
Luna.
I looked up to see Harry sitting down on his bed, leaning down with his clasped hands pressed to his forehead.
"She knew, and she never told us." he stated dully.
"You read the letter?"
"No. She told me herself before… before it happened."
It was then I realized that his voice was shaking. I sat there, rooted to the spot, as he continued.
"I knew. I knew that they were going to die, and I did nothing to try and prevent it. Nothing!" He shouted. "What kind of a fucking best friend am I?"
I jumped as he looked up. Pain and suffering was etched across his face. I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to close the distance between us and smooth out the lines of anger, to soothe him and say everything will be alright. The man, the hero I knew that was bold and brave was no-where to be seen; instead, I only saw a broken boy who was so full of hatred it scared me.
Before I could debate whether or not it would be that beneficial an idea, a new sound entered the room. We listened attentively, until it both clicked in our heads that Harry's yell must have woken up the sleeping baby down the hall.
Quick as lightning, he sprung from his spot and dashed down the hall to pacify the disturbed child. I stayed where I was, trying to collect my thoughts together, before following at a slower pace.
Peering into the nursery, I saw Harry cradling Alessia in his arms, rocking her back and forth, cooing a lullaby into her ears.
"Golden slumber kiss your eyes, smiles await you when you rise. Sleep, pretty baby, do not cry, and I'll sing you a lullaby," he sang quietly, his eyes focused only on the small girl in his hold. "Care you know not, therefore sleep, while I over you watch, do keep. Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry…"
He paused minutely; his eyes fluttered close and his lips quivered. He looked every bit the boy I knew as a young girl, the boy that I fell in love with. I watched as he took a deep breath, and was so enchanted that I almost didn't hear the end of the song. "And I will sing a lullaby."
"That's beautiful." I said with a small, sad smile, which – once he had turned around to face me – returned.
"It was Luna's lullaby – she used to sing it to Lessie all the time. It's the only thing that works when she wakes up like this…" he murmured, as he placed Alessia back in her crib.
I walked over and settled myself next to Harry, and we both silently watched the child that brought us together.
"You don't have to, you know, if you don't want to…" he said after a while. I looked up at him, puzzled. "I mean, you don't have to care for Alessia if you don't want to. If it makes you feel awkward –"
What was he trying to imply here?
Anger bubbled up inside of me as I yanked him out of the room and outside in the hallway. He staggered away and gazed at me with utter shock. It took all of my strength to keep my voice low and steady.
"That sweet, little girl is all that is left of our two dear friends. I never got to say goodbye to them. Do you really think that I wouldn't want to take care of her?" I jabbed a finger at the closed door. "Taking care of Alessia is the least I could do for them – for her." My expression softened and I moved closer to the still man. "We're in this together, Harry. If it makes you feel awkward, then we can… come to some sort of agreement, I'm sure. I don't know… you take her one week, I take her the next?"
He leaned heavily against the wall. "No."
I opened my mouth but before I could protest, he lifted a finger and placed on my lip. "It's not healthy for someone so young to not grow up in a proper home," I glared at him and he quickly lowered his finger. "Sorry."
"Then what do you propose we do, Harry?" I crossed my arms and waited for an answer. I didn't know how the hell it was going to work between us. The only option I could think of was dual custody.
Harry closed his eyes in defeat and ran his fingers through his hair once more. "I know it's unorthodox, and normally people have been in a relationship for a long time before they do this, but… you could – you could always…"
My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. He couldn't possibly be suggesting that I –
"… move in with me."
The poem comes from lullabies(dot)adoption(dot)com
I'm also writing a Harry Potter new gen FanFiction at the same time: Dream On, Dreamer, with of course, Tiah and Irene as my wonderful co-writers. Check it sometime.
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