A million thank you's to those who took the time to review and for the heart-warming birthday wishes. I have the most brilliant readers!
I hope you enjoy the chapter :)
Chapter seven
Turtledove Cottage, the home Harry and his daughters inherited from his father-in-law looked every bit like a work in progress, although it managed to be quite the cozy place. It reminded Hermione a bit of the Burrow, the sort of place that was shabby but so wonderfully full of warmth and life.
The wallpapers were of an aged and yellowed ivory with delicate floral patterns. The walls had light green paneling, freshly painted from what Hermione could tell and they contrasted nicely with the white-painted window panes, built-in shelves and the stone fireplace at the center of the living room.
The dark-green velvet sofa was the sort that you could positively disappear into, the cushions wide and fluffy enough to make one never want to leave. Immediately as they walked in Lily guided the other girls onto it, appearing to be every bit exhausted from her rollercoaster of a morning as she lay her head on a pillow.
"Daddy, I think I might take a nap…" she warned him, curling into a soft plush blanket.
May sat next to her sister, patting her back as one would to calm a baby. She wasn't much of a talker but Hermione could tell May was an absolute sweetheart. Her vibrant ginger curls were adorable and for just a split second prompted Hermione to dwell on what could have been.
"That's fine, Lilypad… May, why don't you show Bea the house and our veggie garden?" He suggested.
May lit up and dragged Bea outside with an excitement that was infectious. Hermione followed Harry into the kitchen area, where the cabinets were a lovely shade of minty green, which harmonized nicely with the long wooden table at the middle of the room, a pitcher with wild flowers adorning it. She pulled out a chair and watched as he finally put the kettle on, becoming overwhelmed with just how much this reminded her of earlier times. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, sighing heavily as she recalled the tiny flat they shared in Notting Hill right after the war and her graduation from Hogwarts. He had just started his auror training and she'd been working day and night on solutions to retrieve her parents and restore their memories. Amidst the very aftermath of that dreadful war and all the scars and torment it had caused them, at far too young an age, Hermione had fallen in love.
It wasn't love at first sight, obviously, they'd been little children at best. It hadn't been an exchange of looks across a dance floor as what might be considered normal for other people their age; it wasn't something born of hormones and sexual desire either. Rather, it had been the little things. The way he gently squeezed her hand when they sat across from each other on the kitchen table in total silence but somehow so in sync with their thoughts. It was in the way Harry had known how to prepare her tea by heart, the way her mum had used to prepare it and with absolutely no milk. It was in the way he triple checked all windows and locks during the night, as well as the wards, so as to ease her fears. It was in the way he bought sweets and baked for her to cheer her up but also to keep his hands and mind busy as well and then, before Hermione knew it, it had been in the way his calloused hands touched and held on to her while he taught her stubborn self to fearlessly fly on his old firebolt. It had also been in the way he always bought them matching crosswords puzzle books at the muggle newspaper stand and how they would sit down each evening and have a silent competition over bottles of butterbeer Ron would bring over and the way his eyes would light up victoriously on the rare occasion that he beat her in completion.
And here he was before her once more, fifteen years later, and she was far too aware of how it was still the little things, always would be, that made her fall in love with him and hold that goddamned torch for so long. Hermione felt heat rise onto her cheeks and her palms begin to sweat as her heart acted on its own volition, just upon watching him move so similarly to the way he used to in the kitchen, preparing the tea the way she always preferred it, still knowing it by heart.
"I visited your shop today…" He told her, as he grabbed a mug for himself and a more delicate teacup and saucer for her. She tried not to act on the fact that it moved her like few things ever did.
"What did you think?"
"It's so nice, I really like what you did with it. The decor, the layout, everything's brilliant… Very you." Hermione looked at him with those piercing dark eyes of hers, her bottom lip caught behind her teeth.
"You were looking for me." It wasn't a question.
"I saw your mum there, she wasn't happy at all to see me…" Hermione exhaled and huffed, nearly rolling her eyes.
"I haven't forgiven you yet, just so you know." Harry looked at her just as serious as she was, setting the teapot on the table between them along with the little jar of sugar and spoons.
"Which is why I was rather nervous to seek you out… I-I need your help with something, anyway, you're an expert at almost everything I thought you might be able to help." Immediately her interest was piqued, he could tell by the way Hermione slightly curved an eyebrow upwards and straightened her back.
"My wand is practically dead wood, I was barely able to perform a lumos." Her eyes widened out of legitimate surprise. She didn't think her words would resonate with him as much as they now seemed to have.
"Doesn't surprise me. Wood is wood, tends to dry up and become brittle if you don't care for it… Just like your magic, I presume."
"Is there anything written about witches or wizards who seized using magic for a long time? The effects of it…" Hermione put down her teacup and paused for a moment, trying to remember if she'd ever read anything on the topic. And then it hit her.
"It's extremely rare for that to happen because wizards and witches tend to be so dependent upon their magic it's not something they'd usually give up. When I was at Oxford I remember studying some 12th century manuscripts for my thesis… It wasn't really within my topic of research so I didn't investigate deeper into it, but there was the case of a witch in Canterbury who was imprisoned for nearly twenty years without trial. Her health became frail but she insisted upon not dying, it was quite interesting."
"Why didn't they execute her?"
"She was eventually released because it so happened that she was the mother of her captor's son. When the father, Sir Wilfred of Acton died the son released her, the population forgave her for some reason on the account that God had spared her for she was wrongfully accused of performing witchcraft and was actually a holy woman. She was put in a nunnery and it was all swept under the rug."
"And then what?"
"She was found dead months later with a long and elaborate piece of wood clasped in her hands, albeit dry."
"Her wand?" Hermione nodded.
"Not a shadow of doubt. Her body was burned and buried in unconsecrated ground for having all along been a witch. Her son was ousted from his land, stripped of his nobility title and also executed."
"How does this help me though?" Hermione smiled a cheshire cat's smile and sipped on her tea with a level of self-satisfaction that should be considered indecent.
"The old woman had a diary, it was actually part grimoire and part diary and in it she wrote about herself and the way she practiced magic until she couldn't anymore. This book was saved by her granddaughter and happens to be at the Bodleian library." Harry looked at Hermione with a look of dread, it was the sort of look he cast her way when she had the brilliant idea during school to make him read boring books for the sake of knowledge. Just as she'd do then as a schoolgirl, Hermione rolled her eyes at him and huffed in that know-it-all way of hers. "I'm calling Adrianne."
"Who's that?"
"An old colleague of mine who works at the Bodleian archives, she's a witch and is in charge of the wizarding section."
"There's a wizarding section at Oxford University?" Hermione rolled her eyes once more.
"At the university's main library." She corrected, "and there is because I helped create it." Harry's eyes widened in awe.
…
About an hour later Harry was busy serving a snack of chocolate chip cookies, fresh strawberries with cream and milk for the three little girls when Hermione excused herself to use the restroom. He was pouring Bea's glass when Hermione's cell phone that had been set on the table began to ring. He eyed it curiously, the name 'Eric' lighting up on the screen. Bea gave it one look and huffed, biting into her strawberry.
"It's just mummy's boyfriend," she told him nonchalantly.
Harry felt a hot, raging feeling take over him, like hot lava ruining his otherwise very good mood. He glared at the offending name on the screen and almost slammed the carton of milk against the table, startling the three little girls who looked at him with shock.
"Sorry… slipped."
"Bea, will you play safari with us upstairs?" Lily asked her, referring to the makeshift tent set up in hers and May's room, their large stuffed animals composed of a giraffe, lion and bear stood guard around it, where their play binoculars were left abandoned inside.
"Only if I get to be the safari guide." May squealed in delight.
"I'll be the monkey!" She cried out with excitement.
"In that case I'll be the animal doctor." Lily chipped in.
"Finish your lunch first, darlings." Hermione said with a smile as she walked back in. Harry noticed how she'd put her hair up in an updo with the help of bobby pins, curls falling out and framing her lovely face. She was about to ask Harry to show her his wand when he pulled her into the living room away from their daughters and waved the cell phone in front of her.
"Your boyfriend called." He informed her, his voice laced with an anger neither of them had been expecting. Immediately Hermione took it from him, furrowing her eyebrows in irritation. Soon she herself was royally pissed at the way Harry had behaved. Hermione slipped the phone inside her pocket and balled her fists at each side, glaring at him.
All the leftover anger and bitterness she felt towards him since his erasing her of his life overcame Hermione and she couldn't bare holding it in any longer:
"You left, Harry Potter!" Hermione barked out, pointing her finger at his chest. Her fury was such that she rose taller, going on the tip of her feet as she glared directly at him. "You have no bloody right to be this way when it was you who fucking up and left!" Her accusation was a heavy blow. Hermione was right, he had no claim to her, it wasn't his business if she had a boyfriend or not… They hardly even were best friends anymore.
If Harry just minutes ago had been feeling hopeful and happy that they were beginning to mend their friendship, now he came to the realization that it would never be as easy as he hoped. Hermione felt it as he lowered his guard, his entire demeanor wilting in front of her and then she took a step back, her eyes still on him. She couldn't help but sigh deeply.
"You left, Harry. You left!" This time, as she repeated those soul-shattering words to him, her eyes wet with unshed tears, they weren't filled with anger but of sadness and regret. Possibly the very same Harry felt.
"I'm sorry…" He whispered. Hermione wasn't sure if he was apologizing over his uncalled for jealousy of Eric or for having left, maybe both. All she was certain of was how utterly exhausted she felt.
"Beatrice!" She called her daughter, ignoring him. "Put on your shoes love, it's time to go home. The three of you can play more another day… Mummy's tired." Bea sighed deeply and pouted, looking at the equally disappointed Lily and May apologetically.
"We were about to play safari…" Lily told Hermione, her eyes identical to those of her father pleading with her to stay longer, to let Bea stay longer.
"I'm sorry, Lily… Next time, alright?" Hermione brushed her raven bangs. Lily nodded and on an act of impulse hugged her, resting her cheek against the older woman's side. "No more donkey business, okay? If that horrible little boy messes with you again you'll let me know, yeah?" Lily nodded, Hermione still trapped within her embrace.
Bea waved her goodbyes to her friends and went along the sidewalk in the direction of their home just a few steps ahead of her mother. Hermione waved to Lily and May herself and turned around to leave. Before she took another step Harry took her hand, the shock and feel of it enough to make her halt right then and there.
"I regretted it the minute I left you," He whispered from behind her, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck. "I wanted to return to you, I really did, but by then it was too late."
Harry didn't see it but Hermione closed her eyes, her whole body tensing because all she wanted to do, Merlin forbid, was punch the living daylights out of him.
"Timing was never really your forte, was it Harry?" She turned and glared those beautiful, anger-filled brown eyes at him, "unless it was to catch a bloody snitch." Harry watched as she shook her head to herself and ran her nervous fingers through her hair. "I'll help you with your magic but don't expect anything more from me."
With that said, Hermione marched away after her daughter, leaving him dumbfounded outside his cottage door.
…
Harry lay in the makeshift tent in his daughters' room, May fast asleep on one side, clutching her favorite stuffed dog and Lily with her head on his shoulder, gazing up at the pattern of the blankets.
"I owe you an apology, Lil…"
"It's okay now, daddy. Mary Poppins helped me…" Harry shook his head.
"I should've been the one to help you, I should've warned and prepared you for what might happen, it happens at some point to all of us… I had accidents too as a little boy." Lily gasped at this information, turning to look at her daddy.
"You can do it too?" Harry nodded.
"Hermione isn't Mary Poppins, Lily. Mary Poppins isn't real, she's a character like Peppa Pig or Superman… Hermione is a witch and so are you… I'm a witch myself, kind of, only I'm a man so we call ourselves wizards. Your friend Bea, she's also a witch, she's had accidents too and soon it's possible that even your sister might have an accident."
"Aren't witches evil?" Harry chuckled and shook his head.
"Witches and wizards are just like non-magical people, some are kind, others are not. The difference is that we have magical powers. The people who don't have magic are what we call muggles. For instance, your mummy was a muggle and so was your granddad Bernard."
"Was mommy sad that she didn't have magic?" Harry hesitated for a moment.
"Sarah was very curious about it. When we first met she liked me to perform tricks, she thought it was fun… But to be honest, I didn't feel comfortable using magic in front of her so much, it made it feel like we were far too different. I didn't want her to eventually feel bad."
"Did she feel bad?" Harry paused for a moment and then shook his head, exhaling heavily as he did, tears welling up in his eyes.
"It was silly of me. Sometimes dads can do silly things too…" Lily hugged him tight.
"I wanna see you do magic one day, daddy." Harry smiled, running a hand through her hair.
"So do I, sweetie." He kissed the top of her head and Lily snuggled into her pillow. "Time to sleep, okay?" She nodded, yawning as if to make a point.
Harry turned off the bedroom lights and left just a crack of the door open, so that the yellow light of the hall wouldn't render the room completely dark. He dragged his sorry arse down to the kitchen for a nightcap of tea spiked with whiskey, he thought he deserved it after this crazy day they'd had. The minute he walked in he noticed an owl perched on the back of a chair, none other than old Pigwidgeon and a folded piece of parchment sealed with an orange wax crest.
…
"You're an idiot, that's what!" Ron told Harry as he munched on fish and chips while they sat in a quieter corner of The Bat Tavern, a pub located on Castle Crescent that was run by a muggleborn Batman aficionado. The punny name was totally lost on Ron though as he had it in him that the owner was actually a vampire. "Mate, one thing I learned from dating Hermione that one brief time was that it was brief for a reason. She hates territorial, jealous men."
"I don't know why I did that, or even why I felt pissed enough to do it." Ron rolled his eyes dramatically and faked a yawn.
"You were once in love with her, that's why. Merlin, I reckon you might even still be!" Harry furrowed his eyebrows, how could Ron possibly know? Was it because of the vision from the horcrux while they were on the hunt?
"What're you going on about?" Ron scoffed at him.
"The two of you moved in together after the war… It was bound to hit your daft mind at some point. Completely ruined any chance I had of getting back with her, if I'm honest. You both got caught up in your own little world of muggle comfort and gloom. I s'ppose I just realized there wasn't room anymore and then soon enough Luna and I got closer…"
"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say, so he signalled for the waiter to bring them each another pint. "I'm sorry about that, making you feel left out."
"I-I honestly didn't feel as bad as I should have, really. I got caught up with the fam and everything, Fred's passing… I began working with George and I just made a life for myself, you know? Ron Weasley outside of the Golden Trio." Ron popped another chip in his mouth and smiled that goofy grin at Harry. "It paid off in the long run, mate and you know what? After you left Hermione and I actually became friends, I think I was her only friend for a long time."
"Yeah?" Ron nodded.
"Before you were the glue that stuck us together, and then it was the teenage hormones. When all that went to bust we just, how does she usually put it? Clicked. Yeah…" Ron downed the rest of his beer as he noticed the next one arriving. "I'm Bea's godfather and we meet once or twice a month here at the pub or at the Leaky." Ron then started smiling like silly, humor in his voice. "Merlin's beard, Harry you've no idea! Hermione's got a wild side!" He said this with eyes shining and a huge smile, as if remembering all the drunken adventures they'd gone on. Harry felt envious, as though he should've been a part of all that too.
"I've missed so much, haven't I?" He said into his beer, a brooding wistfulness taking over him.
"I love you mate but I'll bloody AK you if you hurt her again. You weren't here, you've no idea what she went through, the things she did. I honestly can't count the number of times I pulled her out…" Ron looked into Harry's eyes with all seriousness now, his blue eyes darkening, leaving Harry with no doubts that Ron would indeed do it if Harry messed up. "The thing about Hermione is that she's a bloody great actress, if you don't know her well, she'll fool you like it's nothing. She's never stopped hurting, that's all I'm saying."
"What happened to her exactly?" Ron shook his head and waved his palm in front of Harry, urging him to stop right there.
"Not my place to tell, mate. You'll have to catch that bull by her horns and get the truth out of her yourself."
"Are you and Luna still a thing?" Ron chuckled, his cheeks becoming as red as the hair on his head.
"If by thing you mean still together, yeah. She's totally bonkers but I adore her, you know?" Harry nodded. "How are Lily and Matilda?"
"We mostly call her May…" Harry corrected with a smile, "They're doing well, loving the new place. Lily had this big accidental magic thing at school…"
"Oh yeah, 'Mione mentioned it! The donkey thing…" As Ron chuckled it dawned on Harry just how much there was truth in his mate's every word, how they'd managed to move on from the end of their relationship into a strong friendship, one where they confided things to one another and supported each other. It was a reality in which Hermione had chosen Ron to be the godfather of her first and only child.
Harry couldn't help but think of the would've beens… If he hadn't left her that fateful December 31st of 1999 likely he, Harry, would've been Beatrice's godfather, hell, maybe even her father! He thought of all the heartache he could have spared Hermione, spared himself as well. Harry felt angry and it wasn't because she had a boyfriend, he now began to realize, it was because life went on despite his absence, her life had gone on. He was a selfish bloody git. He almost wished Hermione had been here right now to punch him in the face just as she'd done years ago to Malfoy. Harry would punch himself if he could.
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