Chapter Four- Harry.

A/N: Happy birthday Amy!

For a mother who lost three children Mrs. Weasley was holding up very well. Perhaps it was her robust and cheerful disposition. After losing three sons she had two daughters to bond with, and a bustling baby Teddy Lupin to care for when Harry was away at work. If she couldn't stand being at her home any longer she helped George manage the Wizard Wheezes shop, which she found to be a happy distraction. Hermione was extremely grateful to the kind witch, who gave her and Harry a home.

When Hermione entered the living room all energetic as normal. Mr. Weasly was helping his wife shovel the piles of food onto platters while simultaneously holding an enthusiastic conversation with George about Ginny's amazing performance at the Quidditch game the night before. Ginny, was silently placing plates at the table, looking embarrassed but happy.

Hermione walked over to Teddy's high chair, trying to ignore the sound of Fleur entering through the front door. She picked the baby up, and sat down at her place at the table. The baby huffed in impatience, waiting for Hermione to bounce him on her knee. Giving in, the sound of giggling baby laughter mixed in with the other bustling sounds of the room.

A loud bursting green flame exploded from the fire place, sending ash scattering about the hearth. Harry emerged from the fire place to a rousing welcome from the room from everyone except Teddy Lupin. The fire had startled the baby, causing him to start crying. Harry rescued Hermione from the upset babe; who was failing badly to calm the baby down. Hermione was never good with children, and was never the domestic type to begin with. Her excuse was that she didn't understand them, so she was never good around them. Closer to the truth was that she didn't take the time to understand them; there was always something more exciting and challenging to study and commit her focus to.

Picking up his foster son Harry made his rounds greeting the many Weasley's, kissing Ginny who was obviously ecstatic to see him so unexpectedly. Amongst all this activity Fleur quietly entered through the front door and slipped into the seat next to Hermione. To Hermione's relief Fleur seemed to respect her need to gather her thoughts and feelings. Throughout the lively breakfast she made no move to discuss what happened nor attempted any act of intimacy. Neither did she protest to Harry and Hermione excusing themselves and leaving together.

After breakfast, Hermione headed upstairs at the urging glare from a stern looking Harry. Entering her room she started to unload the goods in her bag, wishing that she wasn't so full, because a chocolate frog was really tempting with all this stress. Harry took up the old worn fabric chair next to the bed patiently waiting for Hermione to finish. Once her task was done she begrudgingly sat down on her bed and faced Harry. They stared at each other a beat, Harry waiting to see if Hermione would start on her on, or if he was going to have to force it out of her. Lucky for him Hermione caved, beginning by simply stating, "I am looking for a wand Harry."

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, that much was obvious even to him. He didn't say anything though, and instead chose to wait patiently as Hermione unlocked her dresser drawer and pulled out a leather bound notebook. She handed it to him with the page open to a well-drawn picture of an ornate wand. The young wizard took a minute to analyze it, trying to figure out if he was supposed to recognize the wand, or realize something special about it. He came up blank, and decided to just have his friend tell him what he didn't know. "Why this wand?" He questioned. "Is there something special about this particular wand?"

"It's a Death Eater's," she replied truthfully. "The one that killed Ron." Hermione choked back her sorrow, and clinched her shaking fists.

"How did you…" Harry began, but fell into silence when Hermione pulled out the little gold necklace from under her shirt. She undid the clasp and passed the delicate object to Harry, who handled it in almost disbelief. "This is actually the first time I've ever held one." He reflected. "I thought I lost my chance. I thought, well everyone thought that they were all destroyed. How did you get this?"

"Dumbledore left it to me in a vault in Gringotts a few months ago." Harry and Hermione fell into silence contemplating the meaning of her words. Dumbledore in life and death never did anything simply. His actions were always full of motives and importance, but no one ever knew what he intended until they found themselves doing exactly what Dumbledore had intended all along. Even then, they could not be sure if it was all the old wizard's plan or some act of fate. Harry always believed it was the former. Everything Dumbledore said to him had some prophetic consequence. He also never gave anything without a reason, and he certainly had some reason to give Hermione what was probably the last time-turner.

"I used it." Hermione began again. "I went back to the Battle of Hogwarts."

"How?" Harry interrupted. "That was ages ago Hermione, I thought you could only go back five hours."

"The rules say you can only go back five hours." She corrected. "But you can actually go back farther. There were certainly consequences, I felt quite sick after. Fleur thought I was pregnant that time by the way." Hermione laughed in remembering. Harry smiled a little uncomfortable, he still wasn't completely sold on the idea that his friends had been romantically involved. "I went back a few weeks that time. I couldn't tell who killed him, but I was able to see their wand. I'm going after him Harry, and you can't talk me out of it."

"Wouldn't think of it." Harry countered. "You were never able to convince us not to go on our adventures, so I don't see how I would be able to talk you out of it. Besides why would I want you not to go on this hunt that I have every intention to join?"

Hermione opened her mouth as if to protest, but was interrupted. "No one is convincing anyone of anything, we are both going."

Hermione wasn't sure what he had said made any sense, but agreed anyways.

Harry was intrigued, if truth be told he thought his life had gotten a little dull lately. It shouldn't be of course, he had a loving girlfriend and a son. But for the past eight years his life was full of anticipation and adventure, though vastly more dangerous than he would have liked. During those time all he wished was for normalcy, but now that he had it he found he was having trouble adjusting to it. He was so used to having the threat of Voldemort over him that he was having trouble relaxing. Even his new job as Auror was less than glamourous. Despite having a significant amount of experience in defense against the dark arts, he was still a new hire so most of his duties was grunt work.

The next half an hour Harry spent flipping through the book and Hermione calmly answered his questions.

"So what you are saying, is that we know pretty much nothing about this guy except that he's a Death Eater, probably rich, and has a fancy wand."

"Yes." Hermione sighed.

"Has anyone told you that this business is ill advised?"

"They would if I had told anyone besides you." Hermione bantered back.

"Let's do it!" Harry affirmed excitedly. "If we could just get that curse broken we might have a real chance you know? Granted that the bloke didn't skip country already."

"What are we going to do when we catch him?" Hermione asked.

"Shouldn't you be telling me?" Harry asked a little surprised. It was her witch hunt after all."

"I know, it's just that I don't know? You know? Oh god I sound crazy."

"Yeah a little," Harry conceded.

"It's just… I could kill him. I feel justified to kill him, and part of me really wants to. Sometimes to the very core of my being I want to kill that Death Eater. And it makes me feel sick that I could feel that way."

Harry moved to sit next to Hermione on the bed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She buried her head into his shoulder, and cried softly.

"Do you know how many times I wanted to kill Voldemort? I did it too. Indirectly with the horcruxes, and directly too. I never told you, but that first year, in that chamber I killed him and Quirrel with my bare hands."

Hermione looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern, and stray tears still trailing down her skin.

"He couldn't touch me. Because of my mum's magic. It burned him. I used that against him and destroyed him."

"Harry…"

"Don't feel bad for me Hermione, because I don't feel bad about it. My point is that it's only human. Feeling that way isn't the same as actually murdering, I know I have done both. You don't have to kill him. If you really want him dead, I would do it for you. Ron was my best friend. I miss him every day." Harry tightened his grip on Hermione so hard that she nearly winced in pain.

"Thank you." Was her only response.

A/N: I'm not getting a lot of feedback on this, if you want to review please do.