July 21st 2003
Hermione cradled the barely month old James Potter in her arms as her now three year old son stood in front of her talking at 100 miles a minute about how amazing Victoire was at catching the gnomes. She was grinning and nodding, but if you ever asked her to repeat any of what he was saying, she would shrug and tell you that she hadn't heard a word he was saying.
"…and den she gave me da gnome, 'cause she's really bad at throwing, and I span and span and span," he actually did spin and spin and spin as he said this, "and I let go and it went reeeeeeally far away and you should have seen it mummy it was so cool!!"
And with that the little boy ran out of the back door into the garden of the Burrow, not giving Hermione even half a chance to get a word in edgeways. She turned back to Harry and Ginny who were red in the face and she frowned.
"That," Harry chuckled, pointing out of the window to where they could see Arty running around the garden with Victoire, George, Bill and a toddling Fred, "is exactly what you used to sound like when you got excited about a homework assignment."
"Oh come on," Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes, "I wasn't that bad!"
"Hermione," Ron responded from the couch opposite her, "You were grinning and nodding, but inside your head you were thinking 'what on earth is he actually saying', right?"
"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed when Hermione didn't reply but opened her mouth a few times, incapable of denying it, "he is so obviously your son."
"Oh, well thank you for that." Hermione laughed, "if you hadn't of told me, I would never have known."
Harry rolled his eyes as she chuckled and handed James to him, who was every inch his daddies double, and went into the garden to check on her little boy. She watched proudly as he helped Victoire up when she fell down and helped her over to Bill, who healed her scraped knee before both children ran off together to find more gnomes. Briefly she thought how much of a good job it was that the gnomes always came back, or these two would be incredibly bored whenever they were here. Chuckling, she moved to stand beside George and Bill, laughing as she watched the gnomes fly over the garden hedge.
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Once Arty had received his gifts and eaten his cake, Hermione took him home to have a quick bath and a bedtime story as it was already long past his bedtime. As she read to him, he seemed to be very distracted and his face was contorted into a frown. When the parts of the book which usually made him scream with laughter came and went with no reaction, she closed the book and lay down next to him on her side, concerned.
"Are you upset about something, my little love?" She asked and a pang of worry when he very minutely nodded his head, "can you tell me what's made you sad?"
"Well…" the little boy said in a quiet, wobbly voice that broke her heart, "I noticed somefing today at da Burrow."
"What was that, sweetheart?" Oh god, she knew what was coming. It physically hurt to know he was being caused pain, more so if he said what she thought he would.
"Dey all have daddies, and I... Don't." Yup, he said it and Hermione sighed deeply, hating Charlie for the first time in her life.
"Not all families have a mummy and a daddy sweetheart," she told him gently as she stroked his hair, fighting to keep her voice even, "some families have one of them, some families might have two mummies or two daddies. Some don't even have a mummy or daddy, but they have grandma's and grandpa's."
"But where is my daddy?" He asked, and she almost cried herself as a tear rolled down his cheek.
"Your daddy lives very far away, in Romania," she said and his eyes lit up with recognition and she smiled slightly, "yes, where the Dragon reserve is. Do you want to know something really special about daddy?"
"Pwease." He said, wide eyed and Hermione snorted as she thought how happy this information.
"Your daddy is a dragon keeper!" She excitedly whispered and heard Arty gasp.
"He is? Really?" Hermione nodded, "wow, wicked!"
"But the dragons needed daddy," she started, cursing Charlie to the pits of hell for making her have to lie to a three year old, "and your daddy knew you had me so you would be fine. But without your daddy, the dragons would be all alone."
"Oh! But then da dragons would be sad!" He said, truly believing the rubbish coming from her mouth and it killed her inside, "so daddy is wif da dragons?"
"Yes, sweetheart." She whispered, kissing him on the forehead.
"Dats ok," he nodded, snuggling down into his pillow and closing his eyes, "da dragons have my daddy and I have my mummy. I love you mummy."
"I love you too, darling." She croaked, barely managing to get out of the room before she fell to her knees and sobs shook her body. She needed support, from someone who knew. She needed Ginny, so she sent her patronus.
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Ginny stumbled through the floo and found Hermione collapsed on the floor halfway between Arty's room and the living room, sobbing her heart out. Her patronus had been talking utter gibberish and Ginny had handed James to Harry immediately and rushed straight over, knowing that something was dreadfully wrong.
"Hermione?" She asked as she tentatively reached out, putting her hands on her arms, falling onto her bottom when Hermione's arms came around her neck and she launched herself into Ginny's arms, her sobbing doubled in severity. "Hermione? What's going on? Is Arty ok?"
"…as-asked ab-bout ch-ch-charlie!" Hermione wailed and Ginny tightened her arms around her friend, having been dreading this day for months, "an-and I li-li-lied to hi-him and I h-ha-ate tha-at ba-bast-tard for m-m-maki-ing me ha-ave t-to!"
"Oh Hermione," Ginny sighed, using all her energy to stand up and drag her friend with her before moving into the living room and sitting her down on the couch, shoving a tissue into her hand as she sat next to her, "I'm so, so sorry you've had to do this."
"I-its not as if I ha-had to lie," Hermione sniffled, calming now that Ginny was here, "but h-how do y-you explain… to a three y-year old that d-daddy didn't wa-want him?"
"You don't, love," Ginny sighed, rubbing her back, "I think that's a conversation for when Arty is older. I think you made the right decision. What did you tell him."
"That the dragons needed d-daddy," Hermione snorted bitterly, "That daddy knew he would be fine with me, but the dragons would be all alone if daddy left them."
Hermione stood up and began to pace, her devastation quickly becoming replaced by building rage. At no point in the last three years had she ever been angry with Charlie for his decision, but having to lie to her son… She truly hated him for making that necessary.
"And we all know how much he loves dragons," Ginny sighed, "what did he say?"
"That he didn't want the dragons to be sad," she sighed, slumping back down onto the sofa, her rage dwindling in the face of exhaustion, "That it was ok that the dragons have daddy, because he has mummy."
"Hermione," Ginny said softly, taking Hermione's hands in hers, "Arty worships the ground you walk on, and you have never, not once done wrong by him. Do not beat yourself up over this, it's not your fault, ok?"
"Ok," Hermione muttered, "thank you for coming, Gin. I'm going to go to bed now and I'm sure you've got a very confused Harry at home."
"You can say that again," she snorted, "I basically threw James at him and ran away!"
"Oh dear," Hermione chuckled, "goodnight Ginny."