A/N: Here we have the last chapter of Burst, coming soon on the heels of chapter 11 like I promised. The story took longer to complete than I originally thought (what else is new) but I am glad to be able to wrap it up. As always, much gratitude to everyone who read, enjoyed, and supported the fic.

With that being said, there is an IMPORTANT disclaimer: go back to chapter 11 and read the end because I added a new scene. I did this to even out the last two chapters to make them equal in length, so if you want to read a little bit of new plot, go back and re-read the end of chapter 11!

To Burst and Bleed with Intention

Chapter 12

Important conversations were not the only thing that occurred between Harry and Hermione as she and Benji frequented Grimmauld on a regular basis. Moments bloomed between them that were fairly heady, and they became obvious the more they happened.

She ran into him once and he held her waist longer, and more tightly, than was necessary to steady her. He caught her staring at him a couple times and she blushed and looked away when she realized she'd been caught. He watched her hips or watched her fiddle with her voluminous hair and would get bouts of longing. (Longing that would result in him gripping his shaft in his hand on some nights and tugging at the recollections of her). This was far from the first time the wizard and witch had been transfixed by one another but the frequency of it was only increasing and serving reminders of how things had been between them two years ago.
Just as the emotional tension between the pair was stabilizing, a different kind of tension was (re)emerging. A tension they did their best to avoid acknowledging or discussing with each other, but a tension that would not be ignored and boiled over regardless.

The culmination of it came one afternoon when the two parents had just put the infant down for a nap. Benji put up a fight and they'd chosen to tag team him to get him to submit faster, an endeavor that had taken 15 minutes and the help of a pacifier. Once they left the bedroom and closed the door behind them, Hermione sighed and looked at Harry with a tired smile on her face. (Benji was quite the handful when he wanted to be). They gazed at one another for a stint before she opened her mouth to comment on their son, but her mouth did not get the opportunity to form a sentence because she found that his mouth had suddenly slanted over it.

Hermione gasped as she was backed against the nearest wall and led into an ardent kiss.

Harry paid her shock no mind. It did not stop his lips from moving against hers with vigor. He did not know what would, in honesty; it had been over a year since he'd had her this way and the solace was so sweet. Accordingly, it was made even sweeter when she reacted and embraced him, kissing him in return!

He groaned loudly and pressed into her more, hastily grabbing her left breast. Relief. He felt relief and no small amount of desire at the weight in his palm. It was more than a handful. Hermione's breasts had always been full but pregnancy had made them simply big. Her chest had hypnotized him since her return to England all those months ago and he was able to do something about it at last. Harry groped her in a greedy manner as he pushed his tongue into her mouth and forced her to accommodate him, which made her moan weakly while she clutched the front of his shirt.

The brunette's mind was churning. She had forgotten how domineering he was when physically intimate, how much it was able to turn her on. It threw her for a loop. The whole ordeal did, actually. He'd ambushed her with his body, catching her totally off guard, and here she was actively participating. Perhaps it was rote memory: responding to Harry's physical advances. And why wouldn't it be? She'd had a lot of practice in the past and it did feel good. (It always had). But when the haze in Hermione's mind began to dissipate and she could think a little more objectively, she put a stop to it.

"No. No," she stated, wrenching her face away from his, "Harry, stop!" Her hands came up and pushed him back from her. He stumbled once but went, gaping at her. Well, that had ended as quickly as it started.

"What was that?," she demanded, beginning to look upset, "Why did you snog me?"

"What do you mean why?" Harry inquired.

"Why, Harry? Exactly what I said! You… we… why?!"

She seemed annoyed and confused and that concerned him. Did she not want this? (Not want him)? Had he misconstrued things between them? Had he just made a serious mistake? Feeling nervous and worried now, he latched onto the premiere emotion he used to mask most others, the one that did not make him feel vulnerable.

"Why does anybody snog someone? I wanted to! I-I've wanted to for weeks!" he exclaimed in frustration. Hermione drew her head back.

"I miss that! I miss being able to be close with you like that! Gods, it's been so long! A-And we spend all this bloody time together, and it's brilliant seeing you take care of Benji. Seeing you be a mum... which you're great at. You're a great mother." Harry added, both hands perched in his hair. He seemed to have run out of steam because his sentences lost their ferocity with each one and he stopped speaking.

The silence was somewhat awkward and he avoided making eye contact with her (a habit for him, as of late). It was not until she stepped to him and touched his cheek that he turned his attention on her again.

"What you just said means a lot to me. Thank you," Hermione softly remarked, staring straight at him, "Things are better between us than I expected, much better, but I don't know if we are there yet, if we're in a stable enough place to..." She gestured between them with her free hand.

"You haven't thought about it?" he pondered.

"It's not that I haven't. I just think maybe we're not ready to relive that part of our past."

Harry noticed that her fingers were warm on his cheek and, only moments ago, they'd been pawing at his chest. Hmph.

"Maybe." And while his lips may have uttered what sounded like agreement, his eyes blazed as if to say otherwise.

It was quite difficult for both of them to stop thinking about their little act of passion, although they did not openly discuss it again. Hermione shared it with no one and preferred it that way, reasoning it was no one's business. She did not want to hear opinions when she was still trying to determine what to make of it. Nevertheless, she was saved from being too consumed by it because her resolution to return to work quickly presented itself. When Benji was five and a half months old she received confirmation that she was accepted back into her Ministry department, the official inquiry of which she'd made a week prior (with an updated vita). It was good news, of course, but knowing there were only two weeks until her start date made Hermione anxious. She was stepping into the public eye again in addition to leaving Benji four days out of the week, and both things seemed scary.

What did give the young woman solace was her confidence in Harry's ability to care for the baby while she was working. And since she did ask to have Wednesdays off, a request she was easily granted, she could give him his own day off if he needed or wanted it. Two days with Benji, a day to rest, two more with Benji, then the weekend. Molly was also an option if Harry needed a break, something Hermione wanted to be realistic about since this would be the first time he looked after Benji by himself for extended periods of time. As it were, the dark haired wizard had questions of his own regarding her reintegration into work life, and he asked one in particular during a lunch outing the little family took.

It was their first, true excursion with Benji outside of walks. They chose to eat lunch at a nondescript but tasty restaurant somewhere in Kent, comfortable that they would not be immediately mobbed but prudent enough to understand they would still be recognized, and to cast appropriate spells to help with privacy. Benji seemed to love being out, bundled in a miniature coat for the February weather, and their server was enamored with him. It was a pleasant trip, all in all.

"Are you going to remain with your parents now that you're returning to work?" Harry questioned after their food was set in front of them.

"Yes, for a bit longer," Hermione answered, exhaling, "It won't be permanent. Babies take up a lot of room and I don't want to take over my parent's house anymore than I already have. We need our own space." She looked at Benji gabbing to himself in the highchair. There was a pause before Harry blurted out:

"You can live with me."

This grabbed her attention effortlessly and she peered at him sharply.

"Excuse me?"

"You can come live with me. You and Benji can move into Grimmauld," He was staring at her and appeared resolute and nervous, like he was making himself get the words out before he filtered himself, "There's more than enough space. He already has a room and you could take one, a-and it makes no sense for you to waste money on a place if you don't have to. And you won't have to drop him off, or I won't have to pick him up, before you go to work each day. He'll already be with me."

Hermione blinked multiple times. Live with Harry. Live with him? She did not know if she was ready for such a step but it was not an inherent, poor idea. There were benefits. She would save money but, much more than that, Benji would be able to live with his father, which would be wonderful for their (already solid) bond. She would also have equal help in taking care of him on a daily basis. Conversely, the risks of the idea were prominent. There were still problems between Hermione and Harry - he still struggled psychologically - and she was unsure if it would be healthy for her or Benji to be around him 24/7. It would also further blur boundaries between the pair, boundaries that were already jumbled, battered, and ambiguous (if their snog was an indication). Boundaries that needed to be clearly defined.

"Crookshanks can come, too." Harry mumbled after the quietness dragged on. He was poking at his food in a moody manner and the Muggleborn realized she had not said anything yet.

"That's… that's generous of you," she mentioned, clearing her throat. She held a bit of bread from her sandwich to Benji's mouth and he eagerly accepted it with a "mmmm."

"But?"

"No buts. I'll think about it," she attested, mimicking the sentiment he'd verbalized in regard to the godparent issue. He peered at her, seeming to realize this, before he nodded once in agreement.

There was so much to contemplate, so many changes happening in Hermione's life on an individual level and as a mother and co-parent. Restarting an old job, potentially asking Ron to be godfather to her child, facing down leaving her parents' home (again), evaluating whether or not she could live with Harry(!), witnessing her baby hurdle toward the six month mark. Six months! Benji had been in the world - out of the sanctuary of her body - for half a year already. It was crazy to realize, especially because some days when she watched his perfect, small, sleeping face, she still had trouble believing he had come from her, that he was real.

The storm of changes kept Hermione's mind preoccupied the majority of the time in her two remaining weeks of freedom. The brunette discussed diving back into her career and moving with her friends and parents but she intentionally did not discuss Harry's proposition with anyone but the man himself, and even that was scarce. She saw the advantages for Benji of making Grimmauld their home but she could not bring herself to definitively say yes or no; something was missing to sway her one way or the other. And of course, there was another thing related to Harry that Hermione did not share with the people in her life: their ill-timed making out. That was also among the topics that kept her mind preoccupied, though this one she tended to think about when she was alone at night… sometimes filled with want.

When she moved back to England on the tail end of her pregnancy, she would have never expected or even dreamed that she would be here with Harry in six months' time. That they would seek physical comfort from each other once more and she would not reprimand him or outright refuse him of it, although Hermione had been honest in voicing her uncertainty over their readiness. The chasm between them had seemed impossible to overcome six months ago, and her main concern then was whether he could be a stable father. Now, however, there was that familiar tension between them and she did not know what to do with it. (Shouldn't she know better)?

It seemed congruous, then, when the pair crossed a major line from which they could not come back. Congruous but disconcerting, all the same. Highly disconcerting - for Hermione.

On Friday, three days before she was set to jump back into the work fray, she and Benji traveled to Grimmauld in the afternoon to see Harry. It was a lively day for Benji as he had a lot of fun playing and interacting with his parents, yet he was still susceptible to multiple sleep cycles. He had just fallen asleep for a second time when Hermione had originally hoped to take them home, but she did not want to disturb him due to the chance (and past experience) that it would be arduous to get him to return to sleep at her house. Consequently, the witch chose to stay over (at Harry's prompting) because she knew that it would be the early morning when Benji woke next - whether that be 2AM or 7AM. While it rarely happened, it was not their first time spending the night at Grimmauld, but it was the first time that saw Harry in Hermione's guest room at midnight, re-enacting the physical display they'd engaged in weeks prior outside Benji's room.

For the life of her, she could not recall how they'd ended up tangled together on the bed, discarding clothing at a staggering rate and frantically kissing like the world would end if they stopped. Their interactions that day - specific actions they took and words they spoke, non-verbal communication that passed between them - none of it was clear in helping her decipher how they'd gotten to this point. However, Hermione also did not believe that Harry had plotted for it to happen, even with his suggestion that they stay over. There had been none of the signs from the past that indicated he was scheming: no trickery, or sense that things were too good to be true. No overly nice, compliant Harry.

It was boggling. The reasons for it were just a cluster of confusion, but what was clear were the sensations he made her feel (which made logic take an abrupt back seat). And he was right - it had been so long. So long since the witch had been kissed or touched or pleased, and Harry seemed determined to deliver. Accordingly, when his efforts turned to her chest, she took a pause.

"No," Hermione breathed out, lifting his mouth from her heaving breast, "I, I'll…" She suddenly looked self-conscious. She wanted to say that she would leak or lactate from the stimulation but could not bring herself, yet he knew precisely what she struggled to verbalize.

"I don't care," the wizard rasped out. He wanted to say her breasts were beautiful and not merely because of the way they looked, but because of their purpose: because they nourished the pair's child.

Harry did not have the capacity at that moment to be so poetic, conversely, so he sucked lightly at a peak (eliciting a gasp from her) before quickly changing direction and going south. Hermione's eyes widened and she cried out, her hands instantly latching onto his head. It was just like her first sex dream of him during pregnancy and it seemed astonishing that it was actually happening, further solidified by the fact that she could have sworn he started speaking Parseltongue. She made non-stop noise the entire time he worked, her eyes glued on the ceiling and fingers digging in black hair, and when he nudged her over the edge, her back arched off the bed and she shut her eyes in numbing ecstasy. The brunette was still reeling when Harry hovered back over her, panting and peering at her with an untamed expression. He kissed her hungrily and rubbed himself against her center, the sensitivity of which caused her to mewl.

Hermione's eyes were still closed when she felt him press into her and the feeling of fullness caught her off guard, forcing her eyes open and forcing a noisy moan from his mouth. She gasped and clutched his shoulders when he gave a firm push to be even farther inside but then he stopped, cursing into her neck at the feel of being enveloped. Her heart was hammering away due to the chain of events, and during the pause a blaring alarm went off in her mind.

"Charm! The charm!" she exclaimed, trying wildly to get her wand within her hand. This could not be like the last time they had sex. (Benji could not gain a sibling from this encounter)!

Harry, consequently, responded and snatched her wand from somewhere, holding it over her abdomen while he mumbled the contraceptive spell. They gazed at one another while he did so, relief and gratitude flooding Hermione, but he dropped her wand when it was done and instinct took over.

The sex was not paced or gentle. It was not love making. It was unrestrained and full of emotion.

He reveled in watching her breasts jump in time with his movement. He pressed her for the last time a man made her orgasm, to which she revealed that it was him and he felt possessive satisfaction. And, when he reached his end after making her orgasm a second time, he snarled out his climax, claiming her mouth with his and thrusting into her roughly as he rode it out.

There was little talking afterward while they recovered and got their bearings. Perhaps surprisingly, Harry did not leave and retreat to his own room, but the lack of discussion between them triggered Hermione. This is how it had been in the past. Their bodies would come together for pleasure but there'd be such few conversations that followed, and the ones that did rarely made her feel good. A part of her understood that she could very well open her mouth and speak about what they'd just done but a larger part of her froze, stuck in reliving their history. She stayed awake and ruminated and worried over their actions after he'd fallen asleep, and she was only jerked out of bed (and her mind) at 2:30AM when she heard Benji's cries through the baby monitor. Hermione rushed to tend to him and returned to her room an hour later once he was asleep again after food and time spent with his mother.

The Muggleborn hesitated to get into the bed for a bit, staring at Harry's prone form and letting her anxiety rise to the level it had been before seeing Benji. When she managed it, however, she was met with definite surprise when she felt Harry contour his body around hers and pull her into a snug embrace. (He had hardly ever been one to cuddle in the past)!

"Benji?" he mumbled, only partially coherent from sleep.

"Yes. He's fine," she quietly reported. Hermione licked her lips and studied his slumbering face. He grunted after 15 seconds of silence and she knew he was unconscious immediately thereafter. She watched him for a little longer as though he were a film, and soon after her thoughts and emotions had calmed enough for her to sleep as well.

Hermione's worry rose with her when she and Harry woke at 8AM, but it was not persistent enough to keep her from joining him in slow, morning sex that, somehow, actually soothed a portion of her unease. The worry tried to get loud once more when he left the room yet it was squashed when he returned ten minutes later carrying an alert Benji, who squawked merrily in a good morning greeting. She gave a lovely grin at the sight of him and the three of them enjoyed a quarter of an hour together in bed, briefly shielded from the uncertainty (and ramifications) of what she and Harry had done. Unfortunately, their time had to end as Hermione knew she and Benji needed to return home where she would be forced to face a very real source of her anxiety: her parents. The pair left after she exchanged a significant look with Harry and promised that they would speak soon, then she steeled herself for what she would encounter at home.

Hermione's brain went into overdrive the second she stepped foot inside her house. The anxiety came rushing back with a vengeance and was joined by doubt. She walked into the kitchen to prepare to feed Benji his breakfast jar of baby food (fruit, specifically) but she startled when she saw that her mother already occupied the room. The two women stared at each other for a moment, Darla doing so pointedly, before Benji happily cried out and reached for his grandmother. She flashed the boy a wonderful smile and approached the pair, taking him from Hermione's arms.

"Good morning, little prince! Nana is happy to see you too," she greeted. Darla squeezed him then kissed his cheek, earning a laugh from the baby.

"Hello, Mum," the brunette witch said softly. She took off her coat and placed it on the back of a chair before sitting down.

"Good morning, dear." Mrs. Granger's countenance became rather serious once more as her attention swiveled back to her daughter. It was quiet and, during this time, Hermione subconciously avoided eye contact with her mother.

"How was your night?" Darla posed.

"It was fine," came the reply. A pause followed.

"You didn't come home." (Hermione grimaced at the observation).

"Erm, no."

"You didn't let us know," the older woman pointed out.

"I… it wasn't planned. By the time I realized we were going to stay, it was late. I didn't want to disturb you and Dad," the Muggleborn explained. (Hmph. It hadn't been that late).

"You wouldn't have. We knew you were at Harry's but it would have been nice to know you were sleeping over so we wouldn't have waited for you."

Hermione nodded and noted:

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. Just an acknowledgment." Mrs. Granger stated.

It was quiet once more as Benji played with his grandmother's necklace and Hermione still could not look at the other woman. Consequently, this is when Darla hit her limit.

"Hermione," she stated in an authoritative tone. It was obvious she wanted her daughter to meet her gaze so the younger woman had little choice but to comply, "Did something happen?"

The young woman's reflexive glance away and evasive behavior up to this point told Darla much of what she needed to know. They told her if Hermione had truly been distressed or in trouble she would have made contact long ago and not been silent since 2pm the preceding day. They told her that Hermione was not eager to discuss why she had stayed over at Grimmauld unexpectedly, and if she was elusive in discussing the why then it was likely to do with Harry. And Darla was willing to bet her bottom dollar that the why had to do with Hermione unexpectedly falling into Harry's arms, and bed, again after so long.

Mrs. Granger did not know what it was about Harry that her daughter could not stay away from. The pair's history, his status as Benji's father, their frequent time together, trouble shedding old habits, coercion on his part, his physical appeal (because lord knew his attitude was lacking)... she did not know. What she did know was that she felt her heart drop at the realization of what Hermione had likely done. She just wanted to keep her child safe, healthy and whole, and Harry still threatened that even with all his promising change!

The older woman grit her teeth and struggled to keep her expression impassive, although her hold on Benji tightened a little.

"Bunny, please be careful," she implored. Hermione peered at her mother for a second time and saw that she appeared crestfallen yet resigned, which only made her feel sad surprise. She saw no point in pretending that she did not know her mother had figured out why she had not come home; they both knew she was much too smart for that and they both knew each other.

"I didn't think we would actually cross that - this - line again. I didn't think that I would want to," she murmured. Darla walked over and lifted Hermione's chin with the hand that didn't hold Benji.

"Then think about how you felt in the past when you were at this point with him, when this defined your relationship. Do you want to experience that again? Can you afford to?"

"No I don't and no I can't. But... things aren't exactly the same," She looked at her son then back to her mother, "Harry's not exactly the same."

"That's true. But has he changed enough where you can put yourself in the same position as before and feel good about it?" Mrs. Granger inquired.

The witch removed her face from Darla's grasp and looked away, appearing fairly sullen. As much of a (strong) point as her mother had, there was an obstinate part of her that did not want to hear it, a part that just wanted validation of some sort. This was hard enough.

Hermione spent most of Saturday analyzing the intimacy she and Harry had shared while Benji's Saturday was monopolized by his grandparents. The brunette recognized mid-day that she could not keep an event of this magnitude to herself and had to process it with someone else besides her disapproving mother. She may have hoarded other interactions with Harry to herself but this could not be one of them. She had an unimaginable amount of emotions swirling within her and she would explode if they remained inside and were not expressed. Conversely, there were so few people Hermione could tell. She absolutely would not tell Ron, for obvious reasons. Ginny was not an option either since the young woman's negative feelings about Harry were still so pervasive and liable to prevent her from being objective. Fleur was a toss up - Hermione could envision the gorgeous, French woman understanding the mishap but also see her pitying her, which she would not be able to stomach. Luna, however, was always a wonderful listener with unnerving insight, and Debbie, of course, never judged. She could speak to the two blondes about last night… had to. Yes, she would go to them.

Was she wrong for what she had done? Was she foolish, stupid? And if she were wrong, why did a stubborn part of her not regret it? (And maybe even prize it)? Was there something wrong with her? Hermione posed these questions to Debbie via telephone and to Luna on Sunday during an impromptu trip to the park with Benji (that required Muffliato to protect the sensitive nature of their conversation). Both blondes said it was understandable that old feelings resurfaced and pushed her to sleep with Harry, and assured her that she did not have to think badly of herself for doing so.

"He's your son's dad. You've spent so much of your time with him for months. And you're a healthy 21 year old who needs sex." Debbie offered.

"There is something very real and extraordinary between you two. It doesn't seem like it can be broken, not even by Harry." Luna claimed, playing with Benji on the blanket she'd conjured.

On the other hand, both friends asserted that she needed to talk to Harry about this momentous turn for them and what it meant and Hermione agreed. They questioned what she wanted from this and, like Darla, pondered if she would feel safe or good going down this path once more. They asked her what she'd learned from last time.

Hermione slept poorly Sunday night due to the anticipation of beginning work the following day and speaking to Harry in the early evening. She was taking Benji to Grimmauld in the morning before she went to the Ministry and, after she was off, she would return to pick him up and have a discussion with his father. (They'd agreed to both during a quick fire call earlier that evening). After all the thought she'd given the issue, Hermione felt comfortable with what she had to tell Harry. She did not feel overly confident about it, and there was still a notable amount of confusion, but she knew it was right.

Thus, after an action packed first day that felt like a typhoon, she was happy to retreat to Grimmauld to see her baby after a full day of separation. Hermione gracefully accepted tea from Kreacher and cuddled Benji on the couch, and attentively listened to Harry share what the day had been like for them. He claimed Benji was perplexed and upset by her absence that morning for a solid 45 minutes before calming and being relatively content for the remainder of the day; she, in turn, shared that a hefty portion of her time had been warding off questions, spectators and gossipers, which had felt like the real work.

"They asked about Benji, of course. And you," she reported, "I told them he was healthy and happy, for which we are grateful, and I left it at that."

They chatted for 30 minutes before Hermione remembered the time and her desire to be home so she could eat dinner and spend some time with her parents. Taking it as her cue, she dived into what happened between them on Friday night and got to the heart of it very quickly. Got to the conclusions she had drawn.

"I don't regret what we did. It was shocking, yes, but I liked being with you like that again because I feel close to you when we are. To me, it's a way you show me what I mean to you. And before, it was the only way I knew because you were just so…"

"Fucked up?" Harry wryly suggested. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

"But I need rules, Harry. I don't want to be in that position or have to feel that way with you ever again, like I did before I left. I don't want to question what we have or what we are," the young woman informed, "I can't have a physical relationship with you unless we are in a relationship. Unless we are officially together. I have to have that rule, for any man."

He knew better than to ask for the relationship she mentioned. He was not in the mental space for one (he had not been for years) and he did not want one at this point in his life, but he knew that if he did want it and he were ready, Hermione would be the woman he sought. However, that left Harry to wonder if she wanted a relationship (with someone else)... and it made his heart freeze. He could not give that to her now - would she look elsewhere?

"Do you want a relationship with someone?" he inquired in a subdued tone. She took a moment to answer.

"Eventually. Yes," she admitted, "But you understand what I'm saying about us?"

No more sudden snogs against walls, no more nights of unplanned, unbridled sex. No more touching her… not unless (until) he could be what she needed. Harry sighed and then uttered:

"I understand."

And this time, there was no fire in his eyes to contradict his words.

And so the weeks passed. Benji continued thriving, Hermione got used to a career and life in society once more, and Harry carried out his fatherly duties with skill. The trio developed a new routine that centered around Grimmauld and the Granger home: Benji would go to the townhome in the morning on the days his mother worked, Hermione would get him after her shift and stay for half an hour to visit, and Harry would go to the Granger's on Sundays and for some time on Wednesdays. They would sometimes take outings on Wednesday or during the weekends and Benji appreciated it most whenever he had both parents with him. Communication between Hermione and Harry remained candid and propitious and, while the physical tension between them still flared every so often, they had not acted on it since she'd explicitly drawn her line in the sand regarding the matter.

That is not to say that everything improved for the little family. Harry was still surly or standoffish some days, and certain Wednesdays and Sundays he would not see his son or Hermione at all and keep completely to himself. Additionally, if the brunette witch scheduled a visit with someone on one of her days off, he was likely not to be found (although he could sit silently in the same vicinity as Ron for some time). Hermione had expected this, conversely, and could not begrudge Harry. She knew certain traits of his were much more embedded in his psyche and unlikely to change without professional help, and as much as she wanted that for him she could only ask so much. And even with his persisting, internal struggles that kept him isolated on particular days or unpleasant to be around on others, he was always there to embrace their child when every Monday morning rolled around.

This bond between father and son is what Hermione was most happy to see and she was not one to shy away from telling Harry her thoughts about it. Coincidentally, Benji was seven and a half months old when she accidentally stumbled upon a remarkable moment between him and Harry. It was a moment that was private and she instinctively knew not to interrupt, but a moment from which she could not turn away.

It was a Wednesday so she was not scheduled to be at the Ministry, but it was an unusual Wednesday in that the trio was at Grimmauld instead of the Granger home like they typically were. Hermione had been in the kitchen pumping breast milk into bottles for Benji's next couple feedings before making her way upstairs to the baby's room where she knew the two males to be. Accordingly, when she heard Harry speaking to Benji as though having a conversation, she stopped in her tracks and listened.

"Are you ready for Sunday, then? Do you know what's happening that day?" the wizard posed. Benji chattered in reply and Hermione smiled fondly. (He was such a responsive boy and she was proud).

"And who told you that? Mr. Cow?," Harry continued, "Pfft. You have to be careful with him; he likes to fib." She heard Benji laugh delightedly and peeked into the room as stealthily as she could for a visual. The baby was lying on his stomach surrounded by a few toys, and Harry, who was also lying on his stomach, had just waved a small, stuffed cow in his face. She pulled back and her smile widened.

"We're actually getting you a godfather on Sunday. We're going to ask Ron," he revealed, "You like him, don't you?" Benji "ooooed" for an answer.

"You do, eh? Hmm. You see him often enough so I reckon that makes sense," the wizard noted.

He, Hermione, and Benji had plans to meet Ron in Hogsmeade in four days when the adults would ask the red head to accept the honored title of godparent. Ron did not know this was the reason for the visit but he knew Harry was attending, and based on Hermione's reports of the other man's progress (and spending irregular time in the other man's presence himself), he was unsure about the meeting but mostly intrigued.

"Your mum was happy when I agreed to it last week," Harry notified, watching the infant snatch Mr. Cow, "Although, for some reason, we ended up having a small row, too, and I can't even remember why. I do remember that I started it - the row. It's almost always me. It should've been good news for her and I mucked it up."

Benji examined the stuffed animal for a few seconds then gazed at his father, jabbering off another reply. Hermione, for her part, gave a reflective, sad frown at Harry's words.

"You know, when you're older you may want to punch me in the face for how many times I've made your mum upset. Made her sad or angry... And it's stupid - I'm stupid - because she doesn't do that to me, she doesn't make me feel that way. It's the opposite, in fact," he commented. The witch felt her breath catch.

"Your mum was one of the very first people to show me love, love that I can remember. I was 11 and in terrible need of it. She gave me my first hug. She loves me more than she should, even now. She has every right to hate me and she doesn't," Harry attested, furrowing his brow, "And I've treated her like… I've been vile to her, after the war. Like she was an enemy and not someone who's been there for me since I was 11 bloody years old!"

His face dropped against the rug and he growled, clenching his fists. Benji lost interest in Mr. Cow (who had been in his mouth) in favor of Harry's change in behavior and, gurgling, reached out and pet his head. Hermione, meanwhile, was fighting the water in her eyes from overflowing.

It was silent for a bit before Harry chuckled at the feel of Benji's petting. He lifted his head and smiled faintly at his son.

"You're a combination of us, you know. I hope you get her loving nature… I think you will. And I hope my ugly parts don't touch you, the parts that Voldemort would probably be proud of," he remarked. He sighed heavily and Hermione felt it in her heart, just like she felt herself lose the battle against her tears.

There was a long pause.

"I hope I can show her real love again someday. Though, I was never really good at it when we were at school, or even letting her know that I appreciated her, so maybe it's that I hope I can show her real love for the first time. I dunno." Harry mumbled, playing listlessly with one of the infant's toys. An "mmfff!" came from Benji while his mother dabbed furiously at her eyes.

"You think so? Well, your mum wants me to get mental Healing… that could be a way I show her I care," the young man explained, "She says if I get it she'd feel better about moving into Grimmauld; she won't consider moving unless I do it, actually."

"I've fought with her about it. A part of me hates the idea and thinks it's complete rubbish - that it's a waste of time - but, I… I think I might," Harry said, rubbing a hand across his face, "For you, of course, because it means you'd be able to live here. But for your mum, too, because she has to put up with me… and because she deserves better. And I s'pose for me, as well. After three years, I'm rather tired of living this way."

Hermione's hands were on her stomach and she was taking silent breaths in and out, quite overwhelmed by the grief, hope, and relief she had over what Harry had gone through, what he'd put her through, and over what might be. For them, yes, but more importantly, Benji.

She heard their child give a cheerful screech as he was wont to do and heard another mild laugh come from Harry, and as she wiped away tears and released one last shaky breath, it was practically impossible not to smile.