Epilogue
The next few weeks were a flurry of activity for Hermione. A few days after she was given the all clear to leave the bunker, Hermione Madison did call. The two women wept as Mrs. Madison recited her entire conversation with Ron. Hermione thanked her for being there for her one husband when she could not.
Hermione attended her husbands' funerals, along with hundreds of other people, after their remains had been recovered from the shipwreck. Harry and Ron were both buried in the Weasley family cemetery.
Upon the news that one member of the Golden Trio had survived the attack, and that she was carrying a bit of the Potter and Weasley bloodlines, the wizarding media went ape. Hermione received hundreds of phone calls, emails, Patronuses and owls asking for an interview. It got so bad that Seamus, Dean, Neville and Dennis were assigned as her personal bodyguard squad. They now ran errands for her and kept her home in Godric's Hollow as secure as a fortress.
Hermione also received plenty of correspondence from thousands of witches and wizards, moved by the story of the Maersk Queen Victoria. There were notes, flowers, and gifts and gifts and gifts to spare – most of which were meant for the babies that were soon to be born. Minister Kingsley even sent each of Hermione's children an individual, personal letter.
Your father was a hero on September 23rd, 2003, it read in part. We honor him for his courage and his sacrifice.
The day of October 16th, 2003, dawned clear and sunny. Hermione got up out of bed and got ready for the day. In the almost month since her husbands' deaths, she had grown accustomed to the heightened level of security around her. It was something she had decided to keep for now, at least until she had recovered enough from her labor that was already overdue to take care of her children. She did not doubt her Auror protectors' insistence that there were people out there who would dare to try and kill the greatest witch in modern magical history. Seamus was even convinced a potential assassin would be cruel enough to wait until the birth of the children before striking and killing them all. It drove his decision to keep Hermione under heavy guard until the first of the year, perhaps even later. Hermione had resisted at first, but caved when her protectors had insisted and Kingsley had drafted an explicit executive order that Hermione be secured "until such time that threats have significantly subsided."
As Hermione was fixing lunch, she suddenly felt an odd sensation in her abdomen. Then, liquid began to cascade down her front. Her water had broken. She screamed from the pain, and her Auror guards came running. Seamus sized up what was happening in a matter of seconds, and ordered Dean and Neville to carry Hermione up to her bedroom. The Head Auror rationalized that to attempt and transport her to St. Mungo's and in such a helter-skelter state might leave their defenses open to vulnerability and subsequent penetration. Sometimes Hermione wondered if her old Irish classmate was paranoid, but she did not protest as she was placed down onto her bed.
All at once, an image flashed through her mind. She saw Ron, laughing as he placed her into their bed on their wedding night. Harry was just behind him and equally jovial. She burst into tears, then screamed as the first of many contractions hit.
"Hermione, it's going to be okay," Dean assured her.
"No, it won't! I want Harry and Ron, I just want Harry and Ron! They said they were going to stay right with me all through it!"
"I know, and I wish that were true," Dean responded gently. "Believe me, I wish they could see this too."
"I WISH I WAS DEAD!" Hermione screamed. "I WISH I WAS DEAD SO I COULD BE WITH THEM!"
"Don't talk like that! Think of your children!" Dean retorted firmly, and was about to say more when Seamus interrupted.
"Dean, call the Healers at St. Mungo's and tell them to get their ass into gear! Dennis, Neville, I want you guys to seal off this entire house from the inside NOW! Guard the doors. Anyone not wearing a nurse's apron tries to get in, shoot them!" The friends scrambled about almost frantically as they tried to obey orders. Seamus knelt by the bed and took Hermione's hand.
"I know how hard this must be for you," he said more gently. "Me and the boys may not be YOUR boys exactly, but we will stay here for as long as you need us."
Hermione sniffled. "Thank you, Seamus," then screamed so loudly, she was sure she'd burst his eardrum. Seamus didn't even blink.
"Approximately 7 minutes between each contraction. Where the bloody hell are those Healers?" he grumbled as he left the room briefly. Hermione began to cry again at the words bloody hell, Ron's catchphrase.
She was startled as Molly and several of the Weasleys came rushing into the room. Molly immediately began to fuss over her.
"I'm fine, Molly, really," she insisted as Seamus stomped into the room. He yelled over his shoulder, "Ok, which one of your asshats forgot to shut down the Floo Network for this house? Do you want a bloody assassin to get in here?"
After approximately 10 minutes, Dennis entered with a Healer. "She's been cleared, boss," he told Seamus. The Healer approached Hermione and kindly instructed her to keep breathing in and out.
Afternoon passed into night. At long last, the contractions had been timed close enough together that it was time for Hermione to give birth.
"Alright, Mrs. Potter-Weasley, now on three, I want you to push. One, two, THREE!" Hermione gripped Seamus and Dean's hands like a vice and screamed as she pushed. She could vaguely hear the Healer giving her words of encouragement and noting her progress. Hermione had long awaited this moment, but was saddened that the two people who had made it possible were not here to bask in it. Oh, Harry, Ron, if only you could see me now…wherever you two are, you better bloody be watching this.
Finally, with one last agonizing push and shout, Hermione felt something slide out of her, followed by a wail. It was piercing, but to her it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. She vaguely heard someone say the baby's gender and then saw her son come into view. He was definitely a Potter, with his father's piercing green eyes and raven black hair. But the rest of his face was pretty much hers. She smiled as she looked down at him. "Forrest Sirius," she murmured, and the boy was soon whisked away to be cleaned up.
But, it wasn't over yet. The whole damn process had to be repeated one more time. Hermione pushed and screeched and was pretty sure she broke at least one person's hand until another cry. According to the Healer, it was a girl. The tiny infant was placed into the arms of her mother. Hermione beamed once again. Her daughter had the same red hair and deep blue eyes of her first love. Facially, though, she was a Granger like her half-brother. Hermione had thought long and hard about girls' names in the event she had one because piecing them together had not come as naturally to her. But, she finally settled on naming the girl Sierra Rosalind (the middle name was a partially tribute to the name of her deceased father).
Everyone rejoiced at the successful operation. Seamus spoke into his earpiece with a smile tugging at his mouth. "Mr. Minister, the Precious Cargo has successfully been delivered. Over and out." As she held her children, Hermione smiled and cried all at once.
Around Thanksgiving, Hermione was in her home's new nursery, having just put the kids down to sleep. She watched them slumber in absolute adoration. Neville strode in carrying a cup of tea.
"Lunch should be ready soon," he told her.
Hermione smiled as she gratefully accepted the mug. "You boys work yourselves too hard."
"Well, that's actually in our job description, so we have to just deal with it. I don't know if Harry or Ron ever told you that."
Hermione shook her head and turned back to the cribs. After a moment of silence, she sighed contently.
"Oh, Neville, they're so gorgeous," she squealed, and excitedly began to point out every little feature of her dead husbands to him. "Forrest's hair falls over his eyes just like Harry's did. He sleeps like him, too. And Sierra – she must be dreaming – look at that smile; it's Ron's!"
Neville grinned. "I'm not so good at matching physical traits like that," he admitted. Just then, a voice called from downstairs.
"OI!" hollered Dean. "Unless you all want to starve, Seamus is going to eat your lunch!" Hermione and Neville hurried downstairs, the new mother pausing in the doorway to blow a kiss to her sleeping kids.
As promised, shortly after the first of the year, Hermione's Auror protection squad left. Hermione was actually sad to see them go. However, she had their contact information should an emergency arise.
Soon, Hermione became accustomed to her new life as a mother. Oh, there was many a sleepless night tending to them, to be sure, but the Greatest Witch of Her Age took it all in stride. Still, there were those moments where something Forrest or Sierra did, or something they said, made Hermione think of their fathers. Sometimes at night, she would stare at the pictures of them she kept on her nightstand, and tell them all about how their children were growing up. She told them of how introspective Forrest was, and how he would jump at the chance to defend his mother and half-sister, as Harry undoubtedly would. She marveled at Sierra's talent for intellect, like herself, but how her daughter could also possess Ron's dry sense of humor.
Yes, although Hermione's family was not perfectly ideal, she had to admit that, given the circumstances, it was pretty good.
Hermione walked up the steps of her home to her children's bedroom. Peering in, she saw her nine-year old daughter staring up into the night sky – thinking, no doubt.
"Sierra? Ready for bed, love?" she asked. Sierra exhaled and nodded, climbing up into bed and allowing her mother to tuck her in. There was a tiny bit of silence before Hermione asked, "So, did you have a good day at school?"
"Yeah, it was good, Mum." Hermione grinned and wished her a goodnight, but Sierra abruptly sat up. "Bedtime story, first," she pleaded. Hermione would have thought that her little girl would be too old for bedtime stories – she would be going off to Hogwarts in a few years – but still gave in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she smiled.
"What story do you want to hear?"
"The Witch and the Two Wizards," Sierra responded with an equally disarming smile. Hermione had never told her daughter that her favorite bedtime story was actually based on real events, but figured that would come out in due time, when she was old enough. She could hear the water running in an adjacent bathroom and guessed her son was probably finishing his nighttime routine. She spotted him through the open door and marveled at how much he resembled Harry, even from the back.
"Forrest, love, do you want to hear a story?"
"I'm listening," the boy assured his mother. Hermione smiled and began:
"Once upon a time, there lived a very brilliant little girl. She had a happy childhood as a Muggle with two loving parents. Then, one day, she received a letter telling her she was a witch and inviting her to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The girl boarded the Hogwarts Express just a few weeks before her 12th birthday to go. On the train, she met two funny little boys. One boy had flaming red hair and deep blue eyes, and the other had dark black hair with piercing green eyes. The boy wizards did not like the witch at first. They thought she was bossy and a know-it-all. Then, that Halloween, the wizards said something really mean about the witch and she went into the girls' bathroom and cried. That night, a huge mountain troll got into the castle and tried to hurt the witch. The wizards rescued her. From that day on, the three became fast friends and over the years they had many adventures together. The years passed, and the three friends fell in love with each other. After they worked together to defeat a very dark wizard, the witch realized something strange: she loved both boys equally in her heart. She told the boys this and they decided to do something no trio had ever done before. They decided to marry. Simply put, they were tired of being in danger. So, they settled down, had a few kids. In a way, they traded one life adventure for another – and were better off for it."
There was a pause before Sierra asked, "Didn't they live happily ever after?"
"I did say they were better off," Hermione reminded her. She had yet to divulge the true end of the story, or that it was real. She turned to see her son leaning against the doorframe. A small smile, her smile, tugged at his lips. Although Forrest would never admit it, he did enjoy his mother's stories. The boy hopped into bed and grudgingly allowed his mother to tuck him in.
"You know," he confessed. "That part with the troll is always really cool. When I get to Hogwarts, I'll save someone from an even bigger troll." Hermione grinned down at him. "I bet you will, Munchkin. Good night."
She turned back to head for the door, only to find her daughter eyeing her with a curious expression on her face, as if trying to figure something out. Hermione took a deep breath. She could only guess what Sierra might be wondering about, and figured that maybe the time was right after all. Hermione beckoned Forrest over and both sat on Sierra's bed.
"I have another story to tell you both. I was going to wait until you were a bit older, but you'll probably need to know this before you go to Hogwarts yourselves. The Witch and the Two Wizards are real."
Sierra leaned forward. "I knew there was something more to the story! But who-?" Then, her eyes widened and she gasped. "You were the Witch!" Hermione nodded and grinned. "Did you really marry both of the wizards?"
"Yes, I did – and it was lovely. They were quite handsome, to tell you the truth. They were my best friends. We grew very loving toward each other." She pulled two pictures from her shirt pocket; ones she always kept with her. She held one out to her daughter. "Sierra, this is a picture of your daddy." Sierra stared at it with amazement. Hermione passed the other picture to her son. "Forrest, this is a picture of your daddy." Both kids stared at the photographs of Ron and Harry, their respective fathers, for a long moment. Sierra finally looked up.
"Mum, what happened to Daddy? And Forrest's Dad?"
"They died in a shipwreck, a long time ago."
"Was it when we were little, Mummy?" asked Forrest.
"No, honey. Your father knew about your existence – yours, too, Sierra – but they never saw either of you. They died about a month before you were born."
The children asked if they could keep the pictures, and Hermione agreed, on the promise that they took really good care of them. Forrest and Sierra climbed back into bed, and Hermione shut the door with a quick 'I love you.' Back in her room, Hermione stared at the picture of her, Harry and Ron on their wedding day and kissed it gently. Both of her boys were probably up there somewhere, smiling.
About two years later, Hermione guided her kids through Kings' Cross Station to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. After carefully checking for Muggles, the three rushed through it. Sierra and Forrest loved the sight of the Hogwarts Express, and Hermione had to admit that even after 20 years or so, it never got old for her, either. After helping to load their trunks onto the train, Hermione ran through all their supplies one more time. The whistle quickly sounded. Hermione pulled both of her kids into a hug and kissed them.
"See you at Christmas. I'm going to miss you."
"Bye, Mummy! I love you," said Sierra, and she hopped onto the train eagerly, but Forrest held back. After a moment of clear internal struggle, he turned to his mother.
"Mum? What if I can't measure up to who Dad was? People will always be comparing me to him. What if I can't be like him?"
Hermione stared at him. She had no idea her son had harbored these feelings, but, then again, they were only natural.
"Forrest Sirius Potter, you have to remember that you are your own person. Yes, you are a Potter, and your father's son – my God, I see him in you every day – but carrying yourself based on someone else's image because that's who you think people expect you to be is just wasting who you are. Be brave and be the person only you can be. If you do that, you will make your father and I so proud."
Forrest digested her words for a moment and smiled. "Thanks, Mum." He gave her a fleeting hug, and leapt onto the train just before it began to pull out. Hermione walked alongside, and noticed lots of students staring at her. Sierra must have seen this too, for she demanded to know why everyone was looking.
"Don't let it worry you," Hermione told her. "It's me; I'm kind of famous."
Sierra and Forrest laughed. "Bye, Mum!" they yelled one last time. Hermione stopped with her hand still raised in farewell and felt a lump catch in her throat.
"Bye, my darlings," she got out. When the train was no longer in sight, she removed a photo of her boys from her wallet and smiled at it.
"C'mon, fellas. Let's go home." And with that, the Greatest Witch of Her Age swept through the barrier to the Muggle world.