Chapter 5: Confrontation, Explanation, and Realization

Heading into the kitchen James felt as if he was back in school walking into McGonagall's office anxiously waiting to see how many detentions he'd get. The familiarity of it was strangely comforting but all the more terrifying because he couldn't anticipate Molly Weasley's reactions like he could McGonagall's. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife twirling the diamond stud in her right ear, a nervous habit she developed in their fifth year when he told her that he and the other marauders were working to become animagi. The habit abided a bit after they had all made it through and were successfully able to change back and forth, but it had come back with full force once they had gone into hiding. James gently reached over and took her hand away from her ear. Hermione barely acknowledged the move which caused a small amount of anxiety to curl in James's stomach.

In the kitchen Mrs. Weasley was bustling around the stove with a hand towel draped over her shoulder. Arthur sat up to attention when they entered and moved the Daily Prophet to the center of the table, turning it upside down. James thought he saw the name 'Potter' on the front page but quickly dismissed it, focusing on the matter at hand. Molly's back was to them as James and Remus slid around behind him to take a seat at the kitchen table. When she turned around she paused as if not quite sure how to react before starting toward them. She stopped about a foot in front of them and took the towel from her shoulder and wiped her hands on it. She waved her hand toward the table silently ordering them to take a seat. James anxiety grew with every second that passed without a word.

Silently Hermione and James took a seat at the table opposite of Arthur, next to Sirius and Remus. Molly slowly sat down next to her husband and laid her hands flat on the table. James settled his hand on his wife's knee when it started to shake nervously. She had never been in a lot of trouble during their time in school and was uncomfortable being cornered, especially when she knew she had done nothing wrong.

Hermione had been acutely aware of Mrs. Weasley's less than cordial feelings for her since Witch Weekly had published an article that made her out to be a slag who played two triwizard champions against each other for her own enjoyment. It had hurt that Mrs. Weasley believed Hermione was capable of those awful things. Sitting here now, Hermione had a sinking feeling that a small part of the Weasley matriarch still believed Rita Skeeter's lies.

"I hoped you understand," Molly started her eyes hard and untrusting, "that we need to verify your story with Dumbledore."

"Molly," Sirius interrupted, "Remus and I vouched for them. That should be enough."

Molly glared at Sirius. "I'm not doing or believing anything until I can speak with Dumbledore."

"Molly-" Remus tried but was cut off.

"I'm not doing anything until I speak to Dumbledore." Molly repeated harshly. "Not after what happened last year. I'm not taking any chances."

James glanced at Hermione but she was too focused on staring straight ahead to notice his questioning gaze. He looked to his two best friends and found they were trying very hard not to look in his direction. For the first time since he'd been back James truly realized how much he had missed.

"Dear," Arthur put his hand over his wife's, "maybe you're being a little too cautious. Sirius and Remus trust them and-"

"Which is why I'm allowing them to stay here tonight." Molly cut off sharply before standing up and moving back to the stove. "I let you talk to Harry, which I think was plenty generous considering I don't fully believe your story. You two can come down after the kids are finished with dinner and eat. I'll leave the stove on. You'll both be staying on the third floor away from the children where you will stay until Dumbledore arrives for tomorrow's order meeting." Molly said all this with her back turned to the table.

Sirius looked like he was about to object but James stood before he could get a word out. "We understand Molly. We'll do whatever we can to make you comfortable until you can talk to Dumbledore. Besides," James smiled as pleasantly a he could with all the feelings rolling around inside of him, "this gives Hermione and I time to catch up without being interrupted."

Sirius was so put out he didn't even make a comment about his friends 'catching up' but he did manage a smirk in their direction. James shot a pointed look at Sirius as if knowing what the other marauder was thinking. Arthur stood to shake James' hand and squeeze Hermione's shoulder before exiting the room. James moved to hug Sirius and Remus. Sirius made a crude comment about not forgetting the silencing charm and Remus promised to join them for dinner after everyone had gone to bed. Hermione, who hadn't moved since Molly had told them to sit down, stiffly stood up and let James guide her upstairs to what was now their room. Molly didn't turn back around until both James and Hermione were halfway up the first flight of stairs.

"Hermione," James started as he shut the door before turning to look at his wife. When he caught sight of her pacing in front of the bed, his mouth shut.

Staring across the room at a younger version of his wife he was struck again by the magnitude of what he had lost, all he had missed. The weight of it made his knees buckle. How many times had he seen her like this? How many rants had he listened to? How many times had he been the subject of those rants? How many rants had he missed in the last fourteen years? He should have paid more attention before. He should have memorized the little wisps of hair that slipped out of her pony tail. He should have paid more attention to the purse of her lips when she clenched her jaw so tight he thought her teeth might break.

Hermione turned toward James to find him staring at her with a lost, hollow expression in his eyes. The same look she saw in Harry's eyes when he returned from the cemetery at the end of last year. Her furry toward Mrs. Weasley evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.

"James," she called to him breaking him from his frozen state.

"You need to tell me, Hermione," He said roughly. "You need to tell me what happened. What happened after I- after we died. What happened to Harry, to you. All of it," He pleaded. The desperation in his voice was palpable.

She didn't want to. Her whole being was begging her not to tell him. After a minute of silence she finally replied, "Okay." Her voice came out in a whisper. He needed to know. "Okay, I'll tell you everything."

She grabbed his hand and led him to the bed at the far end of the room. She was briefly flooded with memories of the moments they'd shared in this room before going into hiding; during their Order days. She shook her head, those memories had no place here, not anymore. Sitting down, she pulled James with her.

"You have to promise me you won't interrupt." She looked at him pointedly. "I promise to tell you everything. I won't leave anything out, but you have to let me get through this." The hurt and the pain behind her eyes told James that what he was about to hear would be worse than what he'd been imagining in his head since he came back.

"I promise."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm assuming that Dumbledore took me straight to the Granger's after he made sure Harry was safe at the Dursley's. Lily was supposed to be his mother so it only made sense that he'd go to her next of kin. I wonder now if we made the right choice."

Hermione's eyes glazed over and James began to feel sick to his stomach. He remembered the stories Lily used to tell about her sister and that awful brother-in-law of hers. The thought of his son growing up to wanted to be sick.

Hermione continued talking for the next two hours leaving nothing out. Every adventure, every bully, every near death experience. The more he listened, the more powerless he felt. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to protect them. He was supposed to have been there.

When she was finished Hermione looked up at her husband. James was lying there still as a statue, staring blankly head. Not knowing what else to do, she lay there and let him process everything. During her story they had ended up lying back on the bed huddled together with their foreheads touching. To an outsider they would've looked like a pair of lovers basking in each other's embrace. In reality, every second that ticked by was putting Hermione more and more on edge until finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"Say something, please." She begged. James looked up at her with dark, glazed eyes.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked his voice raw. "Do you want me to say that I feel like I failed as a father. As a husband? Do you want me to tell you that I'm scared shitless because the thing we died trying to protect our son from is back and trying to kill him?" James rolled away from Hermione and rose from the bed, causing her to sit up. His voice was rising to the level of near shouting. Hermione's heart pounded as she watched him finally voice all his bottled up worries that crashed down on his shoulders in the last five hours.

"Do you want me to admit that I don't know if I fit into the life that you and Harry have lived without me for the last fourteen years?" James voice cracked as he stared into the eyes of the person that he wished, with all his being, he had been able to spend the last fourteen years with. "I don't think I know how to live in this world."

Hermione had heard enough. She lifted herself off the bed and stormed over to her husband and grasped his face between her hands. "Stop it." Her voice was soft but firm. "We knew that this was going to be hard. But it's worth all the heartache and suffering if we're able to be there for our son. He needs you. I need you. If we're going to make it through this war, we're doing it together. As a family."

James leaned forward and rested his forehead against Hermione's. Hermione closed her eyes and let James silently come to terms with his new reality. She knew it would take time. The world had moved on in the last fourteen years, while James had not. Her, Harry, James, the Order; they all had quite a bit of adjusting ahead of them. But she was confident they'd make it work. It would just take time.

Suddenly, without any warning, James broke into laughter. Hermione pulled back and stared up questioningly at her husband.

James smiled wryly. "I'm dead, you're fifteen, and our son is 'The Chosen One.'"

"Yeah?" Hermione didn't get the joke.

James' smile widened

"Best. Family. Ever."