Twenty-Six Years Later

by HopefulEVOLution

Through the seven years of Hogwarts, they faced the hardships, the betrayals, the heartaches, and the fears together to end the war. They were victorious and at peace for nineteen years after that. But there has been an unspoken war among the trio that has been going on longer and now the battle has taken a turning point that may change lives (Epilogue compliant fic; Harmione)

10. Breadcrumbs

A:N: I don't own Happy Potter, the locations and characters used in it, or the songs mentioned in it.

I just want to say a quick "thank you" to you all for supporting me in this story. Honestly. I did not think it would get this far but it has and it's thanks to you all. I will continue to try my hardest to reach your expectations for you to keep enjoying it.

Enjoy!

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There's a song we know

If you listen close

It will always be

As it always was

It always was, it always was

Elemental sound

Running underneath it all

- To The Wonder; Aqualung ft. Kina Grannis

---

"When you see her, everything changes. All of a sudden, it's not gravity holding you to the planet. It's her. Nothing else matters. You would do anything and be anything for her."

- Jacob Black; Eclipse

---

Chapter Nine: Breadcrumbs

Harry could feel his eyes hurting as they watched his hands move across the piece of parchment with the quill, the feather fluttering with his movements. He had his coat slung over the back of his chair, his hair was disheveled from the many times he ran his fingers through it, and he was barefoot. The only light in the room is the dim lantern he has on his desk.

It had been four hours since he had brought Amycus in under his custody and he can see remember how the afternoon turned out; flashes from shuttering cameras as photographers took pictures of him binding Amycus' hands together, loud voices of reporters trying to outdo the other as they yelled out their questions to him, the cries of small children, the yells of the feared adults, and then when he came into the Ministry with Amycus, everything went chaotic. He remembered seeing the shocked faces, his Aurors needing to come from the AD to prevent any of the members from assaulting on Amycus, Kingsley coming to put everything in order again, and then he had to lock up Amycus in Azkaban.

He had to give orders to his Aurors to stop any employees from any of the news company from entering the premises or to send out notices to all departments that if they were to leak out information on the process of his arrest with Amycus then they will be charged for supporting the press. He did not want to give the conflict any more attention but he needed to be cautious at every angle possible because he, like everyone else, is befuddled at the sudden return of the famous Death Eater who was assumed to have been rotting in Azkaban for the last nineteen years.

Currently, he was signing warrants and applications involving Amycus' custody. He had to take care of some complaints from the community and several hate mails of other members of the Ministry for his 'lack of organization'. He had to place wards around the department to stop any of those outside from interrupting him in his work. The many shifts of the day were over for the others but he had chosen to stay behind to not come across from those who now hate him and, although unreasonable, he was not angered by their hostility towards him. He had spent years hunting down these murderers worldwide and one happened to be under his nose the entire time in Polyjuice Potion. He was beginning to question his abilities as Head Auror.

Then a knock on his door startled him enough to drop his quill. He peered up at the father clock next to his window and saw that it read to be two-fifty in the morning – he did not know that time had flown past him so quickly. Everyone had gotten home many hours ago and Ginny must be wondering where he is but she must figure he is at the Ministry. He wondered who would be insane as him to still be here; he rose up to his feet and made his way towards to door with one hand gripping on the handle of his wand then slowly pulls it open.

He was shocked to see Hermione standing there with her coat on and her purse on her shoulder. She had a sheepish smile and her eyes were a little tired but still held an awake glint.

"Hey, I saw your light was on," she said before he could open his mouth. "Thought I'd come and see how things are."

Harry opened his mouth but no words seem to come out. Then he closed it. He shook his head and held the door open for her to step inside.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked. "Won't Ron wonder where you are?"

"He knows I was staying late today," she answered casually. "I just finished some paperwork. I wanted to see if you were okay."

Harry scratched his cheek while walking back to his desk with one hand gripping on his hip as he let out an exhausted sigh. "Er, it's alright. Just been busy signing some warrants and finishing up some last minute reports before I sign out." He took the quill and placed it in the inkpot. "Um, how'd you get in? I had wards charmed all over."

Hermione smirked. "Like wards can keep me out."

"Ah yes," Harry chuckled. "I forgot you are the Hermione Granger. You probably invented a counter-spell stronger than the wards."

"As flattering it is to be praised of my abilities," Hermione grinned. "No, I didn't invent a spell. The wards just weren't that strong enough to hold off a basic counter-spell. So I'm guessing you' weren't trying to keep everyone away."

Harry matched her grin. He could always trust her to look beneath of his actions. He used his wand to flick all of the parchments in files and then placing them in the cabinets before he went to take his coat from his chair.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, her tone suddenly worrisome. He turned around as he slipped his coat on his shoulders to see her eyes soft and concern whilst she stared at him with a vibe of uncertainty.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Hermione tried again. "I heard what's going on – the Ministry won't shut up about it. As soon as I heard about the hate mail and the arrest notices, I needed to make sure you were okay. I would have come sooner but I had an appointment with Twinky."

"How is she?"

"She's doing fine," Hermione said. "Dr. Wayne did a good job. She's not so scared of my wand anymore so there's that. She told me a lot of new things on the night Rowle killed his parents."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "What did she say?"

Hermione perched herself on the armrest of the couches in front of his desk and placed her purse on her lap, the strap still slung around her shoulder.

"I was planning to tell you tomorrow after you got some sleep," she said. "But since we're here – Twinky said she remembers seeing Rowle there with Voldemort and several other Death Eaters. She told me their names and I looked them up and some of them are dead. I felt like she was still too scared to tell me everything so I used to Visualization Charm on her."

"And what happened?" Harry urged.

"When I saw her memories that night, I saw that Voldemort was telling Rowle to kill his parents to prove his loyalty to him. Twinky was going to inform the Ministry about it when Alecto caught him and that's when Voldemort came up with the idea to use the Imperius Curse on Twinky."

"And the rest is history," Harry murmured. Then he had a realization. "Wait, Alecto? That's Amycus' sister, right?"

"Yes."

Harry scratched his rough jaw, knitting his eyebrows together, as he paced in the room, his feet thumping against the floorboards. He could hear them echoing inside the silence of the department but he did not pay complete attention to the sound but the words that he had heard Hermione say. It was too much of a coincidence that the sibling of his suspect is seen in a charm of a victim in a murder case but he found it to be beneficial to them in their situations to both of them.

"If Alecto was there then that means so was Amycus – those two are never separated," Harry said. "If Amycus was there then I can get him to confess on what really happened to Rowle – whether he can tell if he was under the Imperius Curse or not – and if it comes out positive then we could use him as a witness in court."

"But Harry, I doubt Amycus will do it freely," Hermione retorted.

Harry snapped his fingers. "True. But maybe I can make him agree to do it without knowing he is."

Hermione looked at him strangely. Harry went to the cabinet to pull out a file and then brought out a blank parchment.

"The AD has a small secret on how we deal with criminals who won't do things without a wager with Kingsley's consent," Harry started to explain, handing the parchment to Hermione. "It's a Bewitched Contract – whatever deal we need we write it here but the trick is the one who signs it only sees their terms and demands on it. Or whatever promise is given to the receiver is seen on it. But in reality-"

"They're signing in your terms," Hermione finished with an impressed smile and her eyes twinkled in delight. "If you can get him to confess about Rowle and sign that contract then we got Rowle! Harry, that's brilliant! You're brilliant!"

She leapt from the chair and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Harry felt heat rise up from his cheek and travel down to his neck, feeling the pulse of his throat accelerating against her arms. He tried not to make it seem obvious how he was reacting to the same affectionate ways she always does on him for years. He returned an awkward one- arm hug around her waist, hesitant to place his hands on her back, suddenly finding it difficult for him to make the decision all because she was the wife of his best friend.

Hermione pulled back, her hands on his shoulders, and her smile more radiant to Harry. He could have sworn that his were glazed over by her shine.

"If this works then the case can already be considered closed!" she said.

"Let's not set ur hopes on just Amycus," Harry warned. "It could go the other way. So keep on working with Twinky."

"I will," Hermione nodded. She handed him the parchment and he went around his desk to place it there as he sat down on his chair. "How come I never heard of this Bewitched Contract? It could have come in handy."

"Nobody else but the AD knows about it," Harry said. "Kingsley and I came up with it back in 2005 when I caught this local wizard selling magical contrabands to Muggles. Like you, we had all the evidence against him but he had that one alibi that could ruin any plans, so Kingsley and I met up one time and the idea came up to me when I thought about the Great Hall back in Hogwarts – the bewitched ceiling – and we tried a few tests on experimented parchments until we came up with one exactly like this one. The only way for it to be activated is to say the incantation. Kingsley has loads of this stocked in his office and the AD is the only one who has a key to it."

"That's impressive," Hermione commented.

"I suppose," Harry laughed sheepishly. He went to reach for his quill when Hermione's hand suddenly grabbed onto his wrist and he glanced up at her stern face in confusion. Her brow was arched and he knew that he had no opened window to escape from the discussion that is about to take place.

"No," she simply said. "It's already late – you're going home."

"I just need to do this contract and then I'll leave," Harry shot back.

"No. You've been working in here since morning and you have not been out since lunch. You can work on the contract tomorrow morning when you're well-rested and fed. And don't give me that look, Harry Potter, I won't take no for an answer and nothing you say will persuade me," she added when she saw he was giving her a gentle look in his eyes and a slight pout – his begging face.

Harry tightened his lips to prevent a chuckle from escaping as she rambled on. He wondered how she is able to say all of that in one breath when he could hardly hold his breath for a minute. She does not change her habits whenever she takes control of things or demanding.

"But-"

"No buts," she interrupted. "Get up – lock your office – go home. Ginny and Lily are probably worried about you."

Harry sighed. He does not think there is no way of getting away from this argument. He complied to her words; putting the files away in cabinets and then leaving the office with her to shut it with a locking charm. Clacking of heels and thudding of shoes were the only thing heard between them as they made their way over to the lifts that were still operating. They enter together and Hermione pressed the button for the atrium level as Harry closed the door then held onto the handholds whilst the lift moved.

Harry tilted his head back as he breathed deeply. Hermione looked up at him with a frown.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" she asked, using her free hand to tentatively place it on his upper arm.

Harry shrugged. "I'm just…tired. Work has been so stressful lately and with reporters trying to get information about the crimes and people sending me mail because of Amycus – it's all a migraine. I had to take drastic measures to make sure nothing goes out of hand."

Hermione's frown deepens as she watched him take his glasses off to rub his hand over his faces and weave it through his crazed hair. She could see his eyes had heavy bags and his skin tone was slightly pale in color. He was not tan but he still held a light shade to his paleness. And the stubble seem to have grown more during the hours and there are gray areas mixed with the jet black, making him look older than usual.

After he put his glasses back on, Hermione slid her hand down his arm to entwine their fingers together in a gentle, comforting squeeze. Harry glanced down at her, then to her hands, and then back up to her.

"I'm okay," he said.

Hermione just smiled softly and gave him another squeeze. "How about we go to this great diner I know in Brighton. Call me biased but they make the best breakfast in London. And I can show you a special place I'd go to whenever things get too stressful."

"Where?"

"You'll see."

The lift halted; Harry opened the door for Hermione who linked their arms together and together they walked through the silent atrium. There was no sight of another witch or wizard as they all had gone home many hours ago along with the janitors and the security guards who had ended their shifts.

"Can you give me a hint?" Harry asked curiously.

"Nope," was all Hermione's reply.

"Do I know this 'special place'?"

"Nope."

"Should I be worried?"

Hermione raised her brow disapprovingly. "Yes, Harry. You should be worried that I'm taking you to a secret place where no one can hear or see you and hope that I don't end up holding an axe to your head," she said sarcastically

"That was very unnecessary," Harry said in mock hurt. "Have you been watching any horror films lately?"

"Only the good ones," Hermione grinned deviously. "Ever heard of Scream?"

"Isn't that a Muggle film?" Harry asked. "I think I saw Dudley watch it one time with his chums. Not as scary as people say it was."

"Well, it's rare for anyone in the Muggle world to go through that kind of experience, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "Plus you live danger twenty-four-seven. Getting scared is no longer in your nature," she added jokingly with a playful nudge at his shoulder.

"And who says I'm not scared?" Harry laughed. "I'm risking my life at every second, 'Mione. I'm pretty sure that's something to be scared about."

"Could have fooled me."

They shared a round of laughter that reverberated off the dead air around them as they made their way into one of the empty grates. Harry was about take a handful of Floo powder but Hermione had taken his arm and pulled him with her as she lead them into the grate.

"Where we're going there is no fireplace," she told him.

"Oh okay."

He hooked his fingers onto her knuckles as she did the same to him and then he closed his eyes while he waited patiently to feel the sensation of him going through a tight tube. He took one breath only for it to be taken away as he felt himself disapparate with Hermione.

---

It felted in his mouth before he could chew. Soft and dissolving. The crunchiness and smoked flavor gave it a delicious taste as he ate it. And when he swallowed the remains, he felt himself drown in the waves of bliss. What was inside exactly? What made it addicting and wanting? He wished he had asked them for their recipe when he took his first bite back at the diner but he knew they would not reveal it to him. But as he examined the meal in his hands, scrambled in his bites and wrapped neatly, he was beginning to regret for not trying.

He shoved another inch in his mouth for a bite and closed his eyes as he concentrated on tasting every last particle. Soft, crumbling, smashing it to the roof of his mouth and spreading over his tongue. He couldn't resist himself from release a moan of approval.

"Harry?"

He opened his eyes to find Hermione studying him closely, her lips twitching as she fought a smile.

"Huh?" he said dumbly, not noticing a drop of mayonnaise dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Hermione giggled, raising her eyebrows in amusement, and then reached inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to gently wipe away the mayonnaise from Harry's mouth.

"Enjoying your scrambled eggs sandwich, I see," she said.

"Mhm," he hummed with a pleased smile before he dove in another bite of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed blissfully.

Hermione giggled as his response before she took a bite out of her burrito breakfast.

She had taken them to JB's American Diner in Brighton. According to what she told Harry, she used to live in East Sussex until the age of three and on the holidays she would come back to visit a relative. Her father, her grandfather, and she would come to the diner in the mornings to bring breakfast to the family because her mother and grandmother are not exactly excellent cooks – Harry knew where Hermione got that trait from – and the employees already recognized her from her visits.

Harry remembered how surprised he seemed at the warm welcoming and affectionate embraces given to Hermione from the chief, Larry Hughes. He felt like he was coming home for Christmas.

"Hermione? Little Hermione?" Larry had wondered when he had heard the tiny bell of the front door cling and ring. "Have my eyes deceived me?"

Hermione would laugh. "Hello Larry. Long time no see."

Harry recalled seeing Larry to be a large man with a round belly and face. If it was Christmas, Harry could picture him dressing up as Santa Claus. He was a jolly fellow; seeing a face he had not spoken to for a long time and burying Hermione in a big hug that nearly engulfed her petite frame as he lifted her off her feet.

"I remember you were nothing but a midget!" Larry had laughed, instantly recollecting memories he had shared with the witch before she had moved away as he began to cook Hermione's favorite and his order. Hermione would tell him alter times throughout her years in Hogwarts – apparently she had gone to the Storm King School in New York on a scholarship studying psychology and biochemistry.

"You're married?" Larry had seen the diamond glittering off from the simple wedding band in Hermione's ring finger and he instantly assumed that Harry was her husband but Hermione quickly explained their relationship. They had met in a play and he had introduced her to Ron who studied with him for criminal justice.

Hermione must have thought hard about her story of her disappearance years ago.

Harry looked ahead of them as he ate. The building seemed like an Arabian and a Morocco tower built together, making it seem like an artistic structure of an historical landmark and behind him, was a large smooth rock with a glass ceiling where one can see the reflection of the faint moon. The area was abandoned of people except for Harry and Hermione, their bodies seen in the illumination of the light posts on.

"So what is this place?" Harry asked.

"The Peter Harrison Planetarium," Hermione answered quickly. "My mother used to take me here. She used to be an astronomer before she became a dentist. She loved to take me here to teach me star constellations."

"That's fantastic," Harry said.

Hermione smiled slightly. "I come here a lot sometimes when I can't sleep or when I'm trying to analyze a case or when everything is too stressful for me to even think or when Gerald and Ron are driving me mad," she explained passively. Then she let out a small chuckle as she shook her head. "I come up here a lot actually now that I think about it."

Harry grinned as he crumpled up the wrapper into a crinkled ball and shoved it in the paper bag between them.

"So you go to the university to relieve stress and you do the same over here?" he guessed.

"No I go to the university to forget about my problems while over here I relax away the stress and learn about space," Hermione corrected, copying Harry's actions, and then crossing one leg over the other as she folded her arms.

"Why am I not surprised to take your time to learn something new," Harry chuckled.

"It helped me with Astronomy," Hermione said wittily.

"As if you needed it."

Hermione lightly nudged him with her elbow with a quick laugh and Harry smiled at her. He was surprised to be able to easily forget about his troubles of the Ministry by listening to stories of Hermione's past. He found them to be quite fascinating to be the reasons why Hermione is who she is right now and he felt awful to not have asked her about her life whenever he had the chance. She knew everything about him before he knew and he has never learned that much about her until recently. He felt like he was getting to know her all over again.

Harry swept around the area again. "So why are we here for?"

"I'm glad you asked," Hermione said. She pushed herself onto her feet and held one hand for him. He accepted it and rose up to his feet, using the other hand to dust the dirt off his trousers. Then she used her wand to perform Incendio on the paper bag, watching it burn into crispy ashes for a minute, before she used Evanesco to make it disappear in thin air.

Harry remembered of their first lesson of Transfiguration class in fifth class when Professor McGonagall had taught them the Vanishing Spell and Hermione was the only one who was able to do properly. It had taken him a while to be able to do the spell as well.

Harry did not say a word as Hermione dragged him towards the entrance of the planetarium where he could see an elderly man walking out of and the sound of jiggling keys as he turned towards the door.

"Hello Noah," Hermione greeted politely.

The elder man whirled at her voice, his withering face stretched at the raise of his brow and his mouth opened in disbelief, once he saw Hermione.

"If it isn't Carol's Cinnamon Buns! I haven't seen you in ages!" he cheered as he wobbled over to Hermione with his arms held wide and then engulfed her in a heartwarming embrace, gently rocking them to the sides. Harry noticed that he was nearly two feet shorter than Hermione unlike Larry from the diner who could tower her effortlessly.

"It's great to see you," Hermione chuckled as she pulled apart from Noah, her hands on his elbows.

Noah turned to Harry. "And who's this? Your husband I suppose?"

"No," Hermione replied immediately, shaking her head vigorously. "This is my best friend, Harry Potter. We studied together."

Harry held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," Noah nodded as he accepted Harry's hand and his hands widen approvingly while they shook hands. "Ooh, nice firm there, son!"

"Cheers," Harry laughed heartily.

"So what can I do for you?" Noah asked the two.

"Well," Hermione trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile and nodding her head towards the planetarium.

Noah instantly caught on and frowned. "Oh, love, I can't. I'm about to lock it up."

"Please. I always come here all the time – I know how to operate it – I always lock up before I leave – I just have another person with me. Please, Noah," Hermione cooed with a childish pout that had Harry chuckling under his breath. He found it adorable to be able to see the hidden side of her that she does not let the world see often.

Noah sighed and scratched his head. "Do you need the keys this time or are you going to pick the lock like always?"

"Like always."

"Alright," Noah said gruffly. "Just make sure everything is locked up before you leave."

"Oh, thank you, Noah!" said Hermione gratefully, pulled the old man in a loving embrace, causing him to laugh at her reaction and returning it wholeheartedly, patting her back lightly. When they broke apart, he patted her head like a grandparent would do to a child even though he was quite shorter than her.

"Just be gone before five," Noah warned. "That's when the next guard comes."

"Will do."

Noah gave Hermione a light pat on her arm and Harry a kind smile before he wobbled away from the two, the keys hanging from his pants loop jiggling with every step.

Hermione seized Harry's hand and walked him into the building. Inside he found them surrounded by informative posters about planetariums taped to the walls, flat screen televisions positioned around the room, all of them off, the desks were vacant of people, and the lights were shut down. The light of the moon is the only thing that gaze a hazy sight in the building and showed their silhouettes.

A swish of air and the sound of click were heard behind him and he knew that Hermione had used the Locking Charm on the front doors. Now he knew why Noah would ask her if she needed the keys.

"This way," Hermione said, taking his hand again and leading him down the corridor, where there is a set of double doors. She tentatively pushed it open before she pulled him inside with her, their visions suddenly becoming pitch black, and then she abruptly lets go of his hand.

"Hermione?" Harry called out.

"Lumos," she whispered, her voice heard a few feet ahead of him, and an orb of light is seen shining off from the wand. Harry was now glad that the room was dark enough for her to not notice the unexpected blush creeping on his cheeks as he stared at her eyes, drawn into the color of amber brightened by the spell, and the tiny faint freckles of her nose can be seen definite in the light. He was not sure it was the magic, but he felt hypnotized.

He watched as she went down a path of an aisle, the outline of her ringlets seen becoming tinier as the distance became great between them, and then she was seen moving upwards. She stepped farther until she stopped and, despite how far she was from him, he can see she had the same look of concentration she was famous for as her eyes moved around. He did not understand what she could possibly be doing but he did not have the heart to interrupt her on her task because he honestly did want to see as much as he could in her small world. He rarely got to see her like this nowadays.

Then the room began to lighten up in a shadowy faze; he can now see Hermione's figure standing behind a control table on a stage and she had flickered her wand off. He also noticed that she was staring upwards with an excited smile and he followed his gaze only to be left breathless. The planetarium was now a globe of space all around; the endless stars sparkled around Mercury and Venus. Jupiter looked like a decorated egg for Easter, the rings of Saturn were outstanding, the clear view of Uranus was unbelievable, and the heavy blue of Neptune has Harry thinking that the deep waters of Earth seem pale in color. So far the stars don't seem do enchanting alone anymore.

"Harry! Come!"

Harry snapped out of his gaze on the digital space and looked over at Hermione to see her eagerly gesturing him towards her, the wide smile still intact. The fantastic vibe she had radiating off of her – the same one she always has whenever she got to learn something new or to ace a difficulty – made Harry feel quite giddy that he couldn't stop himself from sprinting towards her and then hopping onto the stage. He straightened himself, twirling around as he stared up in amazement, still processing how surreal and magical a projector could make reality with a button.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Hermione asked in elation.

"It's amazing," Harry awed. He turned to see Hermione standing next to him, her attention as attracted as his is towards the space. "How do you find places like this?"

"I don't," she said honestly. "It's usually my parents. I just come around often."

Harry smirked. "Well, it's a bloody good thing you do. Otherwise, I wouldn't know this place even exists!"

Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes. Then she turned to him and took him by the sleeve of his arm. "Come – lay down with me," she suggested, already tugging him down as she lowered herself onto the hard surface of the stage.

Harry was grinning stupidly as he stared at her rest onto her back, seeing her curls fan out around her like a halo glow. He did not object; he used his hands as pillows as he laid beside her, breathing calmly and his heart beating in normal rhythm. He could see the room painted in a magenta color. The multicolor of blue fading in purple then becoming pink just to darken into black was spellbinding.

"Most don't see it but there is magic in the Muggle world," Hermione murmured. "And it isn't because of us – they make it in their own way. And it's just as dangerous as a spell or a potion. One wrong move could take away a life or a thousand."

"I never thought of it that way," Harry admitted. "Growing up with actual magic, everything seemed so-"

"Dull?" Hermione guessed.

"Sort of," Harry said. "But when you say it like that – and seeing this – I can see it now. Magic is everywhere. Just…different."

Hermione suddenly erupted into a laughing fit, nearly startling Harry into sitting upright and staring down at her incredulously as she howled in giggles.

"What? What's so funny?" he demanded confusingly, although her titters were infectious enough to make him grin.

"Nothing," she snickered. "It's just…th-that's…the same thing my m-mother said the first time she b-brought me here!"

"You're kidding," he stated doubtfully.

"No! I'm serious! Talk about déjà vu!"

"Well, that's ironic."

Hermione's cackling fizzled out, leaving her on the floor with a heaving chest and wiping away the growing tears stuck beneath her eyelids.

"Are you done?" he asked, bemused. He could imagine her looking the way she does now on a grassy field during spring season while wearing a simple white sundress. He wondered if she ever looked like that whenever she spent times with Ron at the Burrow and he almost let his face fall at that thought. He felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, his mouth grow dry, and his throat constricted around his vocal cords. Of course he did, you twit! This is Hermione – Ron's wife! Harry thought bitterly as he laid on his back again and tried to distract himself with the space above.

"Yes, I'm done," she replied with a tiny giggle. "Sorry, I needed that."

"It's alright," he reassured her.

They stayed in silence after that, watching the full-dome show continue in a 3D amazement. Hermione looked more animated than Harry was a few minutes ago and a child in Christmas morning. The thought from before extinguished the bubbly and combustible excitement he had be blazing a few minutes ago by the ghastly and heinous guilt that is now looming over him for picturing Hermione that way.

What is wrong with me? He groaned inwardly. He peered at Hermione's spirited face from the corner of his eye and wondered, I'm acting like some mad man. Getting jealous over nothing, acting like a lovesick fourteen year old. This is Hermione for Merlin's sake! I've known her for years and now I'm suddenly acting like she's – I don't know. What the bloody hell is wrong with me? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

He saw Hermione shift a bit to bend one knee upward and quickly moved his gaze back up to the ceiling again.

"This is relaxing," he said to avoid himself from thinking any other inappropriate thoughts about her, trying to keep the shake of his words unnoticed in his tone, and to break the silence that felt awkward now on his end.

"I know," she agreed matter-of-factly.

"So," he smirked deviously. "Cinnamon Buns?"

Hermione just gave him a hit to the chest before crossing her arms as she blushed heavily, grumbling.

Harry snickered. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that."

Hermione glared at him. He stuck his tongue out at her. Rolling her eyes, she glanced back up at the ceiling as she released a sigh.

"I said it's a nickname my mum used to call me when I was little," she mumbled. "I was obsessed with cinnamon buns that I practically started to smell like it. Apparently she called me that whenever she talked about me."

Harry chortled. Hermione gave him another glare.

"Shut up," she said.

Harry looked at her skeptically; Hermione's glared intensified.

"Shut. Up," she repeated in a dangerously low voice.

"Okay, okay," he surrendered, not really wanting to be caught in another one of her shrilling rambles again, and she seemed satisfied as she turned her eyes back to the ceiling. He found himself miserably captivated by her again; he cursed at himself for his mistake.

In that moment, Harry realized he has a choice right now. He could speak to Hermione about his inner complications towards her and hopefully she would be able to help him understand without things becoming stiff between them. She always seems to have an answer for everything when it comes to him even though he hardly takes them but he was willingly in this case. Or he could just keep quiet about everything like he has been doing and they could continue to being the best friends they are while he let himself dwell deeper in the dark about his newfound feelings for Hermione.

It was risky. They had agreed to not speak about it again for the sake of their marriages and their friendship but he desperately needed to know. And Hermione was an expert on emotions and hormones unlike him – he was still struggling to show feelings even after so long. She was open with what she feels, he was not but she is good on bringing them out for him. He had never gotten a problem in keeping his feelings hidden when he wanted them to be but Hermione would somehow point them out by just a glance of him.

No such thing as privacy for him.

Harry stared at Hermione a moment longer before he decided. He knows he might break everything between them but he would rather live life without constantly wondering.

"Have you ever looked at something and start to notice some things you didn't notice before? And then wonder why you're noticing it now?"

Hermione's head snapped at the sound of his voice. She stared at him as though she was startled yet she seemed inquisitive of his words. Harry hoped that he was looking at her in any sort of way to make her seem uncharacteristic.

After a long moment, she spoke, "If you're noticing it now then it because you already have. You're just focusing on it frequently to be able to see what you already saw. Everybody notices everything – it just takes them a while to realize what they saw."

Harry went speechless at her insight. He had expected her to give him a scientific fact or perhaps an obvious answer he was too blind to see but he had not expected something so deep or so meaningful.

Hermione noticed this and immediately looked away with a blush. "Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Harry said distractedly, staring at her newly. "I think I do."

Harry tried to not be over the top on his newfound realization in Hermione. He is grateful that she was able to help him once again without anything going odd but as he thought harder on how she was able to answer his question so easily, his high mood was instantly descending. The only reason why she was able to do so was because she had went through the same with Ron; she had noticed the traits about him and when she realized them, she had fallen for him. His surprise on how she knew had died in an instant.

He looked up numbly, an unordinary silence extending between them. So many emotions were running through him, so many things he wanted to say but did not know how. He had the primal urge to run away, run as fast as he could, to flee and escape from all that he was suddenly experiencing, all that is affecting him in more way than it ever should. However, he was frozen, unable to neither move or blink as he watch the planets swim through the sea of stars and blackness.

"Why ask that?" Hermione inquired.

Harry could not find the right words to explain it to her. How can one explain to their best friend, the wife of his other best friend, the mother of his niece and nephew, the aunt of his three children, and the godmother of his eldest son, that he was attracted to her? That did not come from the parenting book he bought twelve years ago.

"I just…noticed some things this year…" he spoke hesitantly, unsurely. "They're not that important so we can forget about it."

Hermione looked dubious. "Surely, it must be relevant if you're thinking about it. You know better than to try to hide from me, Harry. You can talk to me about whatever it is," she said.

Harry shook his head. "It's nothing."

Hermione sat upright and stared down at him with an arch brow. Harry's breath hitched as he took note that he found that incredibly sensual. How could he not have noticed that before? Or perhaps he did, he is just realizing it in a different light.

"Is it bad?"

"Sort of."

"Then you have to tell me."

"Hermione," Harry groaned sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "It's not life-threatening or anything. I just have a lot on my mind. It's about work," he quickly added when he saw that she still seemed unconvinced.

Hermione frowned. "You're not supposed to be thinking here. You're supposed to relax. Stop thinking about that bloody contract – you can do that in the morning."

"I know," Harry sighed. "I'm sorry." Then he grinned teasingly. "I guess your workaholic ways are rubbing off on me."

"If we were still in Hogwarts, I would have been pleased at this," she said haughtily. "But then I wouldn't have the chance to help you with your essays and such so I guess it's not all bad."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Only you."

Hermione smirked as she laid down on her back.

"Thank you by the way," Harry said appreciatively. "For taking me here, I mean. It helped a lot – I really needed it."

Hermione smiled at him dearly and reached for his hand, lightly rubbing her thumb over his knuckle while she held it tenderly. He returned the gesture half-heartily but nonetheless he was thankful. He knew he was being ridiculous for how he felt a second ago because he had no right to have a claim over her, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feelings of jealously that overcame him and clouded his judgment.

"You want to know the constellations?" Hermione asked kindly.

Harry nodded vigorously, wanting to steer away these irrevocably and rash emotions.

"Well, if you look closely, you can see Auriga…and Delphinus…and there's Draco – yes, there is a constellation named Draco…and there's Carina…ooh and there's Antlia!"

Needless to say, Harry learned more about the stars than he ever did in all those years in Astronomy Class.

---

Two hours later, Harry and Hermione had apparated back to their respective homes.

Harry quietly walked in the front door, careful to shut the door behind him with a soft click. It was dark and silent, his shame and the only palpable notions surrounding him. Shrugging the coat off his shoulders, he closed his eyes in relief to finally being home, turning around and resting his back against the cold wood of the door as he let out an extended sigh. Flashes of his time with Hermione flooded in his mind, bringing him back to feel her hand in his and the sound of her voice tingling in his ears as she spoke about the stars.

That was when he felt it; a pair of eyes was watching him through the darkness, presenting him the feel that he was not alone. He quickly took out his wand to cast the Wand-Lighting Charm, creating a glowing orb circulating around the foyer, and he was surprised to see Ginny standing across from him, leaning against the wall at the base of the stairs. She was propped up against the banister with her back against it, her arms crossed, her eyes cold yet worried as she stared, carefully appraising his appearance. She was wearing a robe over her nightgown.

The darkness made her seem like a sparking flame, the air around him thickening as a moment of intensity filtered in the time that ticked by.

"Ginny," he choked out, unable to hide the guilt from his voice and the shock from his face at finding her brightly awake. "What are you doing up at this time?"

Her eyes flickered briefly at the father clock before focusing on him again. "I should be asking you that," she said briskly. "Four in the morning? Four in the morning and you're coming home now? Where have you been?"

"I was doing some reports at work. And…I was with Hermione," he replied in a rush. He did not want to lie to her about his whereabouts. He already felt like he was lying to her about everything that has been happening. "I just came back from having breakfast with her," he admitted.

"Breakfast with Hermione? You spent a whole night with Hermione?" she asked incredulously, her voice increasing in volume as she took a few steps towards him and ran her fingers frustratingly through her hair. "You didn't come home like you usually do and you didn't have the audacity to even send me an owl or any clue to where you've gone. Lily wouldn't even go to bed until you came home!"

"I'm sorry," Harry said through a sigh. He couldn't look her in the eyes, couldn't stand to see the suspicion he'd surely find manifested there. "Aside from that, I don't see what I did wrong. It's not the first time I come home this late and Hermione is my alibi on where I've been. You can give her a ring if you like."

"It's not just that, Harry," Ginny hissed. "Last time I check, it doesn't take you two hours to finish a spot of breakfast. Also, you were with Hermione – a committed woman. It seems wrong on both of your parts!"

Knowing where she was going at, Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, Ginny. You make it sound like we were shagging. We just had an innocent breakfast and went to a planetarium-"

"A what?" she asked scathingly and Harry pursed his lips, knowing he had bit the nail on that one.

"Hermione took me to this planetarium that she used to go to," he explained. "She saw I was stressed over the case and took me there to relax. She needed it too since she was working on the Rowle-"

"Why couldn't you come to me?" Ginny pressed, voice raising more. "I could have done something to help you relax. Surely, better than a planetarium, whatever the bloody hell that is!"

Harry breathed deeply. "I know you're busy with your interviews and articles for the Prophet because it's a rough season so I didn't say anything."

"And what about Hermione? Why couldn't she have gone to Ron if she's so stressed?"

Harry hadn't thought about that; why didn't Hermione go to Ron like he should have to Harry? Perhaps they were arguing again? Maybe she wanted to spend time with a friend? Or she must have been more worried over his well-being that she did not think about herself? He did not think to ask her about her reasons for the time being.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. He rubbed his fingers on his eyes beneath his glasses as he strode past her and began to make his way up the stairs. "Look, Ginny, it's been a long night and I really need some rest. I just want to shower and sleep."

"You wouldn't feel so restless if you had just come home," grumbled Ginny bitterly.

Harry halted in the middle of the staircase and turned to his wife with a tired expression. "Ginny, I told you I was sorry. Time just flew by before I realized it. What else do you want?"

Ginny just continued to stare at him stonily.

"Well?" Harry pressed on.

Ginny sighed and uncrossed her arms; Harry noticed she had an edition of the Daily Prophet in her hand. She unfolded it and held it open, flashing the front page to Harry with a scowl. He pointed his wand towards it, unable to see the letters in the dark, and then his eyes narrowed as he read the headlines of the front page. THE MINISTRY'S SCANDALOUS SECRETS. There was a heart-shaped picture of him and Hermione at Three Broomsticks with her reaching up to kiss him on the cheek, the loop of the moment never-ending.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry questioned scathingly as he descended down the stairs and snatched the newspaper from his wife's hands to scan over the article. He let out a growl when he saw that it was written by Rita Skeeter. It was not surprising but certainly irritating.

"Same reaction I had," Ginny retorted. "Care to explain?"

Harry was not paying attention to her. He was engrossed on the article in his hands.

The MINISTRY'S SCANDALOUS SECRETS

By Rita Skeeter

The desirable and unattainable Head of the Auror Department, Harry Potter, seems to be much more criminal to the hearts of women than the dark wizards he captures. He has broken the hearts of his admirers when his relationship with former Holyhead Harpies Chaser, Ginny Potter, had been confirmed official and later married but it seems there is hope for a certain smitten witch. The Deputy of the Magical Law Enforcement and Muggle-born, Hermione Granger, has been seen to be rather close to Auror Potter nowadays. They have been recently seen enjoying a nice lunch at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade earlier today and were quite cozy in the booth. Many witnesses confirmed them to be acting more than friendly like a couple of old chums should be. Like Auror Potter, Miss Granger is married to pure-blood Ronald Weasley, owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes but it seems like her taste in wizards seem to have gone high and richer as her eyes seem to have settled on the famously known wizard.

Inside sources say that Miss Granger is seen frequently visiting Auror Potter at his office and the both would be seen leaving the scene looking quite satisfied. Suspicious? No one knows what they speak about inside the office but one can imagine what goes on in there to make them seem so content with each other. It seems like the Rowle case isn't the only thing coming to a close too. It seems like Miss Granger's scandalous ways have not changed since the last time she had toyed with Auror Potter's affections in her Hogwarts years as she seemed to have gotten bored with her husband.

And it could be that she used persuasive charms on her assistants about her journey back into the Auror Potter's heart.

"They're really just great friends," said Julie White, an employee of the Ministry and second assistant to Miss Granger. "The both of them are on the same case and they work really well together. They're like two peas in a pod. It's somewhat reasonable that their friendship could be mistaken as something romantic."

Reasonable indeed but one could not just be mistaken to be romantically involved through 'reasons' but with what is seen and it seems that Miss Granger may be getting Auror Potter in a dilemma if she continues to pursue him. In the meantime, Ginny Potter and Ron Weasley's well-wishers hope that their children will not suffer to the possible diversity once the truth comes out.

Harry's hands shook as he tightened his grip on the newspaper, crimpling the pages into wrinkles and some heard tearing a bit. He was enraged for many reasons; Rita Skeeter, the inside source who revealed about his personal life, and at Julie for even speaking to anyone from the newspaper about his relationship with Hermione. She should know better than to do so.

"You have to tell me what's going on between you two," Ginny demanded forcefully. "I've been hearing stories about this at the Prophet and I don't like it one bit. I had to learn from Rogue about this."

"There's nothing," he responded curtly. "And you should know better than believe this sort of rubbish that slag Rita writes. You know she despises Hermione the most. It's nothing but gormless and pathetic stories of a slow news day."

Ginny's eyes widen slightly but for other reasons not similar to his.

"Whether Rita has something against darling Hermione or not, it doesn't change the fact that the Prophet has evidence about how close you two seem," she said heatedly. "Just like now – you came home at four in the morning from some place with Hermione. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Rita is actually right about Hermione for once."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What are you suggesting?"

"Ever since her father was admitted to the hospital, she seems to cling onto you like you're her lifeline of some sort," Ginny explained, her voice exasperated but gentler. "She takes up all of your time and it's not because of the case. Now you go to lunch with her when before you used to go to my work during your lunch to see me – if you're stressed, Hermione decided to take you all across London when she could have sent you home to your family – if she's stressed, she does the same when she could go home to her family. Even during suppers, she seems to have your full attention. And now you're coming home late from spending time with her – sooner or later that will be a new addition to your routine with her. It's like you have some sort of tunnel vision of everything and everyone but her."

Harry considered this for a moment before he shook his head as he thickly said, "What do you expect? You just said it yourself – her father is in the hospital. I'm just being there for her like a friend is supposed to be."

"What if I told you I highly doubt it isn't just that?"

"Then I would be right disappointed in you, Ginny," he replied, fuming. Harry could not believe of her stubbornness over the situation and how incredibly accusing she is towards him. "To think that way about your own sister-in-law. The same woman who helped you raise James when I was caught up with Auror training and was later pregnant together with you. You grew up together. And you're just going to quickly suspect her to be some sort of scarlet woman all because a sleazy reporter wrote an erroneous article. I can't believe that you would even think like that about someone in our family!"

"Can you blame me, Harry!" Ginny cried, her face blazing red up to the tip of her ears. "No matter how good of friends we all are, you're still my husband – Hermione is still Ron's wife – you can't just come and go with her like that as you please! I care about her as much as you do – I am devastated to what is happening to her father! I understand that she needs her friends closer than ever but not to be close to the point where a newspaper makes it seem like you're having an affair with her! And if you can't see it in my perspective then you're thick as ever!"

Harry stared at her then, looking directly in her eyes that were now becoming reddish from unformed tears, and he knew he messed up. Just like he did to Hermione, he was not considering how his actions were affecting Ginny – he did not ask her about her feelings on his decisions. He had not known that he was hurting her effectively lately because she never spoke about it but he also knew that it was what they have gotten accustomed to doing whenever they have heated moments like this. They would pretend everything was fine afterwards because it was easier to live that way than to have to end up sour when they go to sleep.

After a long moment of impasse, Ginny shook her head and swallowed. "I'm going to go and check on Lily. Make sure our squabbling hasn't woken her up. You go ahead and sleep." Her voice was low and dejected. She sounded defeated. She stepped away from him and made her way up to the second floor before Harry could call out to her.

Harry turned to ascend the stairs without another word or a glance, feeling himself grow heavy as he took one step after the other. He was absent-minded to where he was walking to that he did not notice he had passed by the open door to Lily's bedroom or the croaked whispers coming from Ginny. He figures they must have woken Lily from her slumber with their yells and cries. He wanted to go in to comfort his daughter but Ginny was in there and with the tension between them, he wanted to be separated from her for a while.

Harry made it to his bedroom a moment later before he stripped himself of his work clothes, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, and he dropped himself on the unmade bed with a disgruntled grunt. His head was pounding, his chest was hurting. He hated having fights with Ginny. They are not as strong as the banters between Ron and Hermione but it still bothered him to end a day in bad terms with someone he loved. He still loved Ginny despite everything that is happening with Hermione – he had not forgotten why he married her in the first place. If he didn't then he wouldn't be feeling guilty and awful of their recent discussion.

Sighing, Harry took off his glasses, placing them on their respective spots on the nightstands, and then clutched onto his pillow as he buried his face deep into the cushion, hoping that he could be swallowed whole by the fluffiness. He wondered why Ginny acted so rash about Hermione though; it was not the first time when there would be an article about him being 'romantically involved' with another woman and she had kept in mind that wild rumors would run amuck due to his title so she did not react so heavily in the past. What does a white lie about him and Hermione have to make her so impetuous.

Then he thought back to Hermione. He wondered if Ron was giving her the same troubles about the article at this moment. The phone would be ringing if he was; he is Hermione's alibi like she is to him and Ron would like to have proof of that. Or maybe Ron could be asleep when she returned home. She would be a lucky witch if she was able to have more peaceful hours before the storm comes. He did not get to have the calm.

Then his mind drifted to what she said in the planetarium: If you're noticing it now then it because you already have.

He had noticed many aspects of Hermione's brilliance throughout the years – she always showed it. But the many details he is seeing on her, had he noticed them before? He already knew that she was a pretty girl when they were younger and as they grew, she developed into the beautiful woman she is now. But it was the little things about her that seem to caught his eye now – the many smiles – the different sparkles in her eyes – the kinds of laughter she has – and then there is her history behind Hogwarts. He had learned that she was like the girl-next-door type who was also a daddy's girl and a mother's little flower. Her background made her seem normal. She did not seem like the know-it-all witch he had befriended and had went on a journey to death with. The mask of her blood status had been taken off momentarily for him to be able to see the real Hermione Granger.

That was when he realized he has already saw Hermione for who she is. She never hid who she truly was – she never changed for the game. She just never spoke about what made her who she is. She came into his life as who she was and she is still the same as she was with newer traits. He had already noticed her, he was just relishing what he saw in her throughout the years – he understood what she meant now. For years, he had seen, heard, and said the things that Hermione has done or would plan to do because of who she is and he was greatly appreciative of her efforts in everything. Sometimes he would find himself wondering why someone like her would put up with him even on the times he had treated her horribly and her intentions were for the best of his safety. He knew it was because she cared but the deepness and the stretches she went through were beyond than he had ever seen any friend do for another.

He was truly lucky.

With a breath, Harry closed his eyes as he thought about Hermione. Even in spirit, she was able to still keep him calm enough to mentally relax and allow him to physically sleep the stress away. He pictured him back at the planetarium with her beside him, holding his hand, and pointing out on constellation after another with energy of ardor and passion. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, feel the tickling sensation of her curly hair strands brushing against his ear, see the expression of childlike wonder on her face towards the holographic stars, and hear the excessive passion leaking out of her voice as she spoke

He felt like he never left.

---

When Harry opened his eyes, the first sense he could identify is warmth and familiarity. Aware of some corner of his consciousness that he was dreaming, he looked around the new scenery that his head is now taking place in. The walls were made out of creaking wood that seemed more than two years old, the ceiling has pheasants and hams hanging from hooks, and there was a fireplace with a copper kettle squealing loudly as a streak of steam shot out. There was a mokeskin coat and a crossbow resting on a bed, untouched and unmoved. Beside it was an over-sized black boarhound dog sleeping soundly, his head hanging slightly over the edge as streaks of his saliva dropped to the floor like white slime.

He instantly knew he was at Hagrid's hut.

The knob of the door rattled and then the hinges squeak as it swung open. Entering the hut was Rubeus Hagrid, holding a plate with tiny crumbs that he later placed on a table nearby and then went to the fireplace, where he put on hand mittens to take the kettle in his hand. He had left the door open and Harry could hear a series of children's laughter not too far away; he followed the sound, hearing silverware clinging as Hagrid searched for teacups through the many items of his home. A light breeze flew in through the door but Harry could not feel it.

"Ron! Be careful!" a recognizable shrill was heard scold. "Stay away from the fire or you'll get burned!"

When Harry stepped out into the opening, he felt a wave of nostalgia hit him as he watched the scene play before him; it was the younger version of him, Ron, and Hermione sitting on a log nearby a roaring campfire, all of them clad in their pajamas. He remembered this moment to take place during his second year after the Leaving Feast and the three of them had agreed to come with Hagrid to have a private celebration on him being freed from Azkaban. He and Hermione were sitting while Ron was demonstrating the adventure he and Harry had on their encounter with Aragog within the Forbidden Forest.

These were the simple days – as simple as his previous years could be for Harry.

"…And then my dad's car came out of nowhere," Ron kept speaking in exasperation. "We were lucky to get in on time – those spiders were scary. Bloody creatures nearly nicked my leg!"

Hermione gawked. "I can't believe you two went through all of that. It sounds far worse than told."

"You have no idea," Ron said flatly, promptly slumping on the ground in front of his best friend and leaned back on his hands as he stretched out his legs.

Hermione turned to Harry worriedly. "And are you sure you're feeling alright? Not feeling drowsy at all? Maybe we should take you to Madam Pomfrey to take a look just to be sure-"

"Hermione, I'm fine," Harry said, pulling back the sleeve of his nightshirt and holding out his unblemished skin. "See? Nothing. Completely healed."

"Are you positive you don't feel indifferent?" Hermione asked again.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Quit smothering him. He's breathing so I think that's counts as 'fine'."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to make sure his health is in good condition," Hermione shot back. "Being stabbed by a basilisk fang is quite fatal, mind you. I'd like to see you go through the same and try to not worry."

"No thanks." Ron said. "Bad enough I had to follow the bloody spiders." He shuddered.

Harry and Hermione laughed. Older Harry stood behind them with a bitter smile, wishing that he was one of them again and be able to live the life of no worrying over bills, children, jobs, or capturing dark magical beings. These carefree times and free from the chains of the adult world were tempting for him to just drop everything just to experience the life of a child again. But then he thought of James, Albus, and Lily, and he knew he would not be able to trade them for a day. They are one of the many things he has now that are way too precious to his heart.

Younger Harry looked at Hermione with curious eyes, his brows furrowed. "What about you, 'Mione? Feeling anything odd?"

Hermione smiled at his concern and shook her head. "Not a thing," she said honestly. "I feel like I woke up from a thousand-year sleep. Refreshed and well."

"That's good," Harry nodded with a grin.

"I got a question though." Hermione shifted her weight to be able to cross her legs. "What happened to Lockhart? You took him with you to the Chambers, right?"

Ron snorted. "Him? The bloke tried to Obliviate us with my wand. Luckily it backfired on him and he erased his own memories. I don't think it would have mattered – he was resigning either way. Good riddance, too."

"Unbelievable," Hermione murmured distastefully, cupping her jaw with her palm as she leaned her elbow against her thigh.

"Bet you regret fancying him now, aren't ya?" Ron asked teasingly with a smug smirk.

Hermione's face became pale pink, the color traveling throughout to the roots of her bushy hair and down on her neck. She had a scowl on her face towards Ron, who was staring at her egotistically with the same smirk, and Harry chuckling under his breath as the silence among the two. Older Harry remembered that was the moment he noticed that the tension between his best friends had begun and he had thought that it was because Hermione was struggling to accept to being wrong for the first time to Ron, not because feelings were submerging from one of the two.

Then Hagrid appeared at the doorstep of his room, his hands still covered by the mittens.

"Can one 'o ye'r help me wit' the biscuits?" he asked politely with a grin surrounded by the jungle-mess of his unreeling beard. "I seem t'er have made one t'er many."

"I'll go," Ron said, already rising up to his feet and a hungered glint was seen shining off the rims of his blue eyes. Older Harry knew even then that Ron had chosen to go so he could be the first to taste some of Hagrid's soon-to-be famous coco-filled cookies. The skip in his step was confirmation of his greed for the dessert.

Older Harry turned back to his younger self and Hermione as soon as Ron was out of sight. He walked over to the campfire to sit on a small boulder a few feet away from where they are and watched them as they stared at the fire. He could see Hermione fidgeting with the hem of her nightshirt, playing with the last button nervously as she nibbled on her lip and sometimes she would peer at Younger Harry from the corner of her eye. He seemed oblivious to her glances, too engrossed on the flickering fire and crackling wood.

Hermione pursed her lips before she let out a breath and turned to Harry. "Thank you."

Harry snapped out of his trance to look at her. "What?"

"For everything," she clarified. "You solved it and you saved me. Thank you."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Harry said. "You did most of the work – I just followed your steps. I should be thanking you."

Hermione smiled shyly and blushed deeper as she looked down at her feet.

Harry saw this and continued, "You saved all the Muggle-borns and Ginny. They could all be dead right now but because of you - they're alive." He smiled at her even though she was not looking at him. "You're a hero, Hermione."

"That's too much," she pointed out, her voice low and almost inaudible. Older Harry smiled slightly at her adorable display of shyness, finding it to be quite intriguing at how noticeable her blush was and how timid she would become over a compliment. He wondered if she would still act like this the next time he praised her or if she has grown into it.

"It's true."

"Honestly," she sighed. "Thanks."

"No problem," Harry murmured. He twiddled with his thumbs, his emeralds eyes looking like crystals as he stared back at the fire. "Just…make sure that…promise me that won't happen again. Seeing you like that was not something I look forward to."

Hermione glanced at him with a strange look in her eyes, almost like she was particularly shocked to hear about his concerns over her well-being. Younger Harry could see her from the corner and the edges of his lips twitched in a slight smile while Older Harry was curious as to why she would be dubious of him worried of her. If she knew how he felt when he saw her laying on the hospital bed like a carved ice stone replica of herself, she would probably be in tears of how highly affective it was to him, how even the thought of her was painful to him, and appreciative of him for worker harder to bring life back into her. He was looking forward to seeing a more alive Hermione than a frozen one.

"I promise," Hermione said after a minute of quietness passed over them.

"Thank you."

"I heard you, you know," she suddenly said, the random change in topic had him whirling his head back to her. "You and Ron. I'd hear you two talking to me like I wasn't petrified. It was comforting because it did get lonely. I even heard you reading a paragraph from Hogwarts: A History to me. You were reading about how Muggle technology is not allowed at Hogwarts. I'm sure the basilisk enjoyed hearing that in the pipes," she added with a laugh.

"I'm surprised you caught that," Harry said sheepishly, scratching his head. "I barely remember what I read from that. I was reading it because…well…it was the closest thing from you. You always say random facts from that book."

Hermione nudged him with her elbow. "Hey! Those random facts happen to be quite usual!"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry mumbled with a lopsided grin as he combed his hair with his fingers.

"Harry?" She placed a tentative hand on his arm and she was looking at him with a hopeful expression on her face, her eyes seeming wider in anticipation. "When you found the parchment in my hand, I remember you saying you wished I was there because you needed me. Is that true?"

"Yes," he responded smoothly and casually. His eyes darted to her, instantly locking in a cosmic explosion of heavy green with deep brown, and Older Harry can see Hermione seemed shaken by the connected of their eyes. "I meant it. Like I said, we wouldn't have solved it if it weren't for you."

"Oh," was all she said, her tone sounded deflated and disappointment. She slipped her hand off his arm and tangled her fingers together.

"That," he kept on and she instantly perked at this. "And because I need my best friend. I don't think nobody knows me well like you do," he smiled at her softly and gave her a friendly wink.

Hermione laughed.

As he watched, Older Harry could see his younger self seeming to be in a merry mood while watching Hermione giggling cutely and he could see himself transfixed momentarily before he lowered his gaze down to his feet. His eyes widened in shock. The way how he was smiling pleasantly, how his eyes seemed distant in a trance, and the uplifting atmosphere emerging between them He had noticed the bubbly and charming side from Hermione but he had not realized he did.

Bloody hell. Harry thought in disbelief as he watched Hermione inch closer to Younger Harry and looped an arm around his whilst she laid her head on the blade of the shoulder. Younger Harry did not seem startled by this; he looked even more content. He recalled that it was a touch of relief to him to know that she was awake and moving. I understand what Hermione meant.

Just then, Ron had stepped into view by the entrance of the hut and he was wearing Hagrid's oversized mittens that seem to have been tied to the wrist for them to not slip off.

"Biscuits are done!" he announced loudly that the nearby trees of the Forbidden Forest seem to shake at the volume.

Hermione was quick to pull apart from Harry and was already on her feet as she straightened her shirt, two patches of bright red seen glowing from within her cheeks. Younger Harry had taken his time to get on his feet and was on his way to the hut with Hermione followed him after she dusted away the small twig bits from her pajama pants.

"I hope you didn't eat them all, Ron," Harry said as he walked up the small stoned steps and trailed after the ginger into the hut. Hermione giggled behind him as they disappeared in the cozy humble abode of their lovable half-giant.

Older Harry stayed where he sat as he watched the door being pushed closed by Hermione, hearing Ron wailing, "I didn't!" to his defense before all sounds were completely shut out with a simple click.

He was still trying to register the fact that Hermione's words were true. He had noticed her before and he did not realize it until now how much he saw in her.

---

Harry woke up with a gasp and wretched upright on his bed. The sudden movement has caused another to happen beside him and he glanced to the side to see the fire tresses of his wife cascading all over her back as she shifted around for a minute before she slumped into the mattress, clutch the pillow close to her chest. He had not known how long it had been since she joined him for slumber.

There was a dull gray light in the room. Harry glanced, disoriented, at the clock on the bedside table. It was six-forty-seven in the morning. He groaned as he kicked the bed sheets off him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet tingling a little when they touched the floor. He was too uncomfortable, too distracted to fall asleep again. He hunched forward as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to rub away the grogginess. He only had two hours left to sleep before he had to get ready for work but, somehow, even though his eyes stung and his body demanded to be rested, he could not find the strength to because he had shock coursing through his veins like electricity, the circuits of his veins brought to life.

Just a dream, he told himself. It was only a dream.

He took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, and then jumped again when realization struck him like a lightning bolt. More images of the dream flashed in his mind. His breathing became uneven and his blood pumped into his heart quickly, causing it to drum against the inside of his chest. The bashfulness – the honesty – the charm – the security of her arms draped around his – the content feeling of her just being by his side – the purity of her promise to him – the trust she had in him – the disbelief of how deep he cared for her – the happiness she felt when she saw how important she was to him – and most of all, that heavy impact of their eyes locking with such ferocity that could easily knock anyone's feet in their presence. It was impossible to think that the whirlwind of emotions and invisibility was coming from two twelve year olds (technically one twelve year old and a thirteen year old because Hermione aged one year ahead of him and Ron).

It was just a dream, Harry reminded. It was only a dream.

It may have been only a dream – a dream of a memory – but it actually meant a lot more to him than he ever expected it to. It wasn't like those thousand dreams he had of Voldemort or of the night his parents died or the visions he would get from Voldemort through his eyes – it actually frightened him more. Never had he paid such close attention to a dream of his since the war ended but for some unfathomable reason he could not shake off the ones he's been having of Hermione. An urge of wanting to relieve those memories, of wanting to be in the position of the Harry in his dreams, leaves him shaken in fear.

He glanced back at his wife over his shoulder. She was still sleeping soundly as he wondered. He thought back at the times he had dreams about her, some beyond the lines of friendship and above the lines of Ron's approval, but he would find himself in distraught whenever he had them because he felt like he could never have her due to her then relationship with Dean Thomas. He was aware that he had fallen for her at the time which is why he never dwelled on his dreams about them so much but the fact of him fawning over his best friend's youngest sister was still shocking. Although pleasant but still frightening.

He questioned why he was going through the same with Hermione. He could not possibly start having feelings for her, could he? It would seem ridiculous and a bit cliché for him to suddenly start feeling something more for his long-term best friend. Those kinds of relationship only happen in the movies he had watched with Lily and Ginny by force. Yet Hermione and Ron were best friends before the feelings between them grew so he figured it could be possible but why should it happen to him? He had many chances to be with Hermione and even if he did pursue to be with her it did not mean she would have felt the same way as him and then things would have been awkward between them. Still, he could not help wondering.

If they did get together would they have lasted? Would their actions towards the other have changed just by a change in their status? Would he have been able to even picture Hermione as the mother of his children like he did with Ginny? What if they ended up hurting each other and resenting the other?

So many questions, so little answers.

But as he thought about how Hermione's relationship with her children is, he thought about it. What if she was the mother of his current children? From what Ron told him on how things were between her and Rose did not impress Harry but then the way he sees how she interacts with Hugo would have him think twice. She was lovable and overprotective yet stern and firm with the young boy. She had been the same way with Rose when she was younger before there was a rift between them.

He could see himself coming home from work and spotting Hermione gently rocking in one of the chairs of the family room, quietly singing a lullaby to a bundle held in her arms like it was a normal part of his day. He had gotten used to see it when she helped him and Ginny raise James.

It was a nice sight for him to see her smiling softly in peace while gazing down lovingly at the tiny baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms, sometimes gently stroking the specks of brown away from the large striking green emerald twins, and he would be standing behind her while he marveled at the small miracle he created.

"Oh Merlin, no…" Harry gasped. He realized that his thought process has automatically pegged Hermione as the mother of a child of his without him noticing. But what scared him the most was that he had done the same thing with Ginny when he came to accept he was in love with her. He would imagine random moments of his future with her out of his control and he would grow to find the idea tempting to want it, to need it, but now he was doing the same with Hermione and he was scared of his wits as he asked himself a fearful question:

Am I falling in love with Hermione?

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Incendio (Fire-Making Spell): is a charm and a form of Conjuration that can be used to conjure a jet of orange and red flame, thereby setting things alight.

Evanesco (Vanishing Spell): is a Transfiguration spell used to vanish both animate and inanimate objects "into non-being, which is to say, everything".

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