Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is a goddess. I am not. Catch my drift?
CHAPTER XXVII: ACCEPTING REALITY
Ron felt as though he'd just been hit by an enormous hippogriff and the pain refused to go away. His eyes glazed over but blinking rapidly, his surroundings became clearer. He was lying in bed with Hermione, who was cupping his face between her hands. Not that he minded her touching him like that. But it was what she had just informed him that had caused his heart to fall to the pit of his stomach.
Struggling to keep his voice steady, he said quietly, "What did you say?"
Hermione closed her eyes and releasing Ron she replied, "Jason is your son. Kellie is your daughter, Ron."
Ron looked at her strangely and then burst out of laughing. "Ha. Good one, Hermione. For a second there I thought you were telling the truth." Chuckling to himself, he threw the covers off and reached for his robes, expecting Hermione to do the same. Instead, she continued to look at him, her forehead creased in worry. Halting in the process of wearing his clothes, he stared at her. "You were joking…right?"
She shook her head and clasping her hands together she answered, "Ron, please try to understand. My kids are your kids, as well."
"What?" Ron yelped, while Hermione shushed him. Lowering his voice, he rambled, "What do you mean they're my kids, as well. We don't have kids. We couldn't have kids. We're not even married and we haven't even done it for five-" his voice faltered as the truth dawned him. "We did it five years ago," he finished meekly.
Hermione sighed and nodded her head. "Ron, don't be mad."
"I'm not mad," he mumbled. "But I need to sit down." He weakly collapsed onto her desk chair. He raked a hand through his hair and stared at the floor with intense interest. Hermione held her breath as he continuously ran his fingers through his hair and she was almost afraid he'd pull his hair out. After an eternity, he looked up at her and said in an awestruck voice, "`Mione, how is this possible? I mean, we only did it once."
She looked at him in sympathy and crawling out of bed, she approached him and knelt at his side. "Ron, I know it's hard, but you've got to understand, we're in this together."
"But why didn't anyone tell me about this? Harry at least?" he argued.
"Ron, they couldn't. I couldn't," she whimpered.
"But why, Hermione? Why?"
"I just couldn't." She averted her face from his gaze and continued, pronouncing every word carefuly, "Do you know what would have happened if I had told you immediately that you and I had kids? Kids, who think their father is dead?"
His blue eyes bore into her face, and once again she felt as though he was reading inside her very soul. "What makes you so sure they're even my kids?"
"Because I haven't done it with anyone for five years," she reminded him and she suddenly realized there were tears rolling down her cheeks. She placed her hands over his and murmured, "Ron, please listen to me. Don't you want to have kids? Our kids?"
He stared at her with a blank expression on his face and at first she thought he was lost in his own daydreams. Finally, he stood up abruptly, causing Hermione to stumble and fall back. Avoiding her eyes, he stammered, "I really should be going home. Mum's probably wondering where I am." He finished dressing, while Hermione silently cried to herself.
He was just about to open her bedroom door, when Hermione asked in a strained voice, "Where are you going?"
He looked at her tear-stained face and he had the sudden urge to wipe those tears away. Instead, he replied, "Need some time to think."
She nodded dumbly and absent-mindedly traced her fingers across the design on the chair. He sighed when he realized it would be difficult for them to talk to one another after what she had just told him. Sighing again, he straightened his collar and finished, "I'll talk to you when I think I'm ready." Saying so, he left her bedroom.
Hermione brushed away the urge of following him, even though she had no idea where he was going. Chocking back a sob, she stood up and tightened her bathrobes. She was just making the bed, when she heard her parents' voices, joined later by the excited voices of her children.
"Hermione dear, we're home," her mother called from downstairs.
"Mum, we had the greatest time," Kellie exclaimed happily, as she and Jason raced up the stairs to go tell their mother about all the fascinating Muggle and wizard animals they had seen at the zoo. Throwing open Hermione's bedroom door, they rushed in eager to tell her the wonderful details.
They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing their mum, crouched on the floor, her body trembling with the sobs that shook within her.
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"Harry!" Ron yelled, bursting through Harry's apartment door. Ignoring the look he was receiving from an elderly lady, he slammed the door shut and headed for the kitchen.
"Harry!" he called again, and this time got an answer.
"Ron, you don't have to yell so loud. He's got ears," Ginny remarked, coming out of the kitchen, her hands covered with flour.
"Ginny," Ron stammered. "What are you doing here?" He really didn't feel like talking to his sister about the problem he was facing. After all, Harry was a man and he also was his best friend, so he would know more.
"I invited her," Harry replied, poking his head out of the doorway, a happy expression on his face. His face's features, however, softened after seeing Ron's glum face.
"Ron, is something bothering you?" he asked kindly.
Avoiding the question, he answered, "we need to talk." Gripping his arm tightly, he steered his best friend into the living room, followed by an equally concerned Ginny.
"Ron, is everything all right?" she inquired, her brown eyes full of concern.
Tight-lipped, Ron replied, "Stay out of this, Gin." She was about to retort, when Harry signaled her to be quiet. He calmly sat down on the couch and turning his attention to his best friend, he asked, "Are you angry with me, Ron?"
"I think I have the right to be," he answered, his sapphire eyes gleaming. He sank into a chair and continued, "How come you never told me?"
"Never told you what?" Harry responded, bewildered by his behavior. Ron had left the party, feeling quite cheery and now he was frustrated and well, subdued in a strange sense.
"How come you never told me I had kids?"
"What?" Harry and Ginny spluttered at the same time.
"Who told you?"
"How did you find out?"
Ron exchanged glances with his best friend and sister. "Wait a minute. You two knew about this." It was more of a question, rather than a statement.
"Well," Harry began, looking at Ginny for help. She, however, had other ideas.
"Oh look at the time. I really should be going." She got up to leave when Ron held up his hand. "Stop, Gin. Sit right back down, because you're going to tell me everything."
"Everything?" she squeaked. Ron raised his eyebrows at her sharply, and sighing dejectedly, she sank into the sofa.
"Okay, will someone please tell me how long you've know about this?" Ron ordered, his voice slightly pleading.
Harry held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I only found out after Hermione introduced me to her children. And may I say, five years later."
"But why didn't you tell me?" Ron said through clenched teeth and he could feel the water welling up in his eyes.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ginny placed her hand on his knee and turned to face her brother. "Ron, let me explain. Hermione and Dumbledore thought it best that once things got better between you and her, then she would spill the beans to you. I mean, she did tell me you'd met them, but she didn't want to tell you yet that they were your kids."
"Didn't she trust me?" he asked meekly.
A small smile started to appear out of the corners of her mouth. "Oh, she does trust you. She just doesn't trust your temper."
Ron gave her a lopsided grin and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "That's true," he mused. He was quiet for a while before turning to Harry. "But, Harry. I don't know what to do, mate. I mean, she told me that she had told them their father was dead. So how do you think they're going to react when they find out that I'm their father? And what am I going to do about accepting them as my kids?"
Harry didn't know how to reply. He could have said a million things, but all he could muster was, "I'm sure Hermione's got everything under control."
Ron snorted. "I doubt it. She was crying when I left."
"What?" Ginny shrieked, abruptly standing up. Ron stared at her, bewildered.
"What did I say, Gin?"
"How could you do that? After all she's done for you, you left her crying? I can't believe you, Ron."
"Ginny, calm down," Harry stated, holding her hand gently and pulling her down onto the sofa. She sat down, but she didn't lift her eyes off her brother, who was carefully avoiding her gaze. Taking a deep breath, she cupped his face gently and tilted his face up.
"Ron, listen to me," she began.
"Do you think I have a choice?" he reminded her.
She smirked slightly, but continued, "This isn't a time for jokes, Ronald. Look, you're just going to have to accept the fact that Jason and Kellie are your children, whether you like it or not." He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him by placing her finger over his lips.
"Let me finish, Ron. Hermione's raised these kids all by herself, ever since she left Hogwarts. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for her to raise not one child, but two? And all by herself? Ron, I watched those kids grow from mere toddlers into adorable kids. And they've become this all because of the hard work Hermione went through in raising her children. Your children."
Ron huffed. "So if she raised them so well, then why did she have to tell me that they were my kids?"
Next to Ginny, Harry groaned. Ron could be so clueless, sometimes. Voicing Harry's thoughts, Ginny replied, "She told you, Ron, because they're your kids, as well. And they truly are." Smiling to herself, she released her grasp over Ron's face and fell against the back of the couch. She continued in a dreamy voice, "Jason is so much like you, Ron. He's crazy about Quidditch, just as much as you are. He's stubborn and funny and he spends endless hours perfecting his skills in chess. And Kellie."
She paused, running her fingers through her hair. "She's so much like Hermione. Reading as much as she can, fixing Jason's sentences and occasionally playing with her wands, you would think she was a younger version of Hermione, only this time with blue eyes."
Ginny paused dramatically and played with a strand of her hair. Ron was waiting for her to continue and she realized Harry was, as well, for he had not been there while Hermione was raising her kids. Sighing, she finished, "And Ron, Jason adores you. Really, he does. You should have heard him telling Kellie about Ron, who has the red hair he so desperately craves for and Ron, who happens to be his mother's best friend. Trust me, Ron. When they find out that you're their father, they'll be ecstatic."
Ron seemed oblivious to what she'd said, for he mumbled under his breath, "I like his hair."
"Ron," Harry groaned, causing Ron to stare at him quizzically. "Didn't you hear a word Ginny's said?"
He rolled his eyes at him. "I did, Harry. It's just that-" he frowned, searching for the right word. "I'm just not ready for this," he admitted finally.
Harry grinned, but sympathetically placed his hand on his shoulder. "Do you think Hermione was ready to raise two kids all by herself?" he reminded him.
Ron sighed. "Guess not." He looked at his sister, who was staring at him with a worried expression on his face. "I'll tell Hermione when I'm ready to meet my kids."
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Taking a deep breath, Hermione slowly knocked on her children's bedroom door. "Come in," Kellie called. She opened the door and found her daughter busy reading a Muggle book and her son occupied with a miniature broomstick.
Kellie looked up from the book she was reading. "Hey Mum," she greeted warmly. She eyed her mother suspiciously. After finding their mother crying on the floor had really worried her and she wanted to know how she was doing. "Feeling better?"
Hermione smiled at her and wrapped her arms around herself. "Good, kids. Thanks for asking."
"No problem," Jason replied, as his miniature player dove expertly. She sighed to herself as she watched her kids occupied with their own little activities. How could she ever tell them that their father was alive?
"Hey kids, can I talk to you for a minute?" Hermione began, sitting on the edge of Kellie's bed.
"Sure," Kellie answered, placing her book on her bedside table and pulling her knees closer to herself.
"Jason, come here." She motioned for her son to come sit on her knee.
"Awww, Mum, I was just going to perform the Wonksy Faint," he complained but put his Quidditch toys aside. Being a little boy, he still didn't know how to pronounce the difficult words, yet he understood the procedure completely, well at least he thought he did.
Hermione sighed. "Jason, it's Wronski Feint, and you can perform it later. There's something I want to talk to you two about."
"Okay Mum. What's bothering you?" Jason inquired, while perching himself on her lap.
Hermione smiled. Jason always seemed to have a sixth sense whenever she had something on her mind. It was uncanny how alike he and Ron were. Ron…He was the reason she had to talk to her children. Oh, if only he had never left to fight against Voldemort. But the past could not be erased. The future, however, could change.
"Kids, remember when I told you that your father was dead," she began hesitatingly slightly.
Kellie nodded her head. "I remember, Mum."
"Well, what if I told you that wasn't true? What if I told you that your father was alive and well and he's just found out that he has kids?" she finished carefully.
Jason looked at her, with a confused expression on his face. "What are you trying to tell us, Mum?"
Hermione sighed. It was difficult to explain something to little kids, even though she was certain they would be able to understand her. "Jason, I'm trying to say that your father is alive?"
"Really?" Kellie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Who is he?"
The question Hermione had been dreading to answer. Unfortunately, it was unavoidable. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "I can't tell you. Not yet."
"Why not?" Jason remarked. "Do we know him?"
She shook her head sadly. "No, but I can tell you that you're great friends with his family."
"We are?" Kellie said in a hushed voice. "But if he's here, why doesn't he come and meet us?"
"Probably doesn't know we exist," Jason pointed out, causing a small whimper to escape from Kellie.
"No, that's not true," Hermione, informed him.
"Oh yeah, if he does know he exists then why hasn't he come to at least say hello?"
"Because he doesn't know how to come and say hello," she replied lamely.
"I don't think so. I think he doesn't want to have any kids." And to Hermione's enormous surprise, Jason's lower lip started to tremble.
"No, of course not. It's just that, your father-" before Hermione could finish her sentence, Errol, the Weasley's family owl flew through the window, carrying a note through his beak.
She gently took it out and unfolded the note. She read it quickly and grabbing the nearest quill, she scribbled a reply and with a hoot, Errol was gone. "What did it say, Mum?" Jason asked, while rapidly wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt.
Hermione looked away from her children. "It was Aunt Ginny. Your father is going to meet you tomorrow."
***
CHAPTER XXVII: ACCEPTING REALITY
Ron felt as though he'd just been hit by an enormous hippogriff and the pain refused to go away. His eyes glazed over but blinking rapidly, his surroundings became clearer. He was lying in bed with Hermione, who was cupping his face between her hands. Not that he minded her touching him like that. But it was what she had just informed him that had caused his heart to fall to the pit of his stomach.
Struggling to keep his voice steady, he said quietly, "What did you say?"
Hermione closed her eyes and releasing Ron she replied, "Jason is your son. Kellie is your daughter, Ron."
Ron looked at her strangely and then burst out of laughing. "Ha. Good one, Hermione. For a second there I thought you were telling the truth." Chuckling to himself, he threw the covers off and reached for his robes, expecting Hermione to do the same. Instead, she continued to look at him, her forehead creased in worry. Halting in the process of wearing his clothes, he stared at her. "You were joking…right?"
She shook her head and clasping her hands together she answered, "Ron, please try to understand. My kids are your kids, as well."
"What?" Ron yelped, while Hermione shushed him. Lowering his voice, he rambled, "What do you mean they're my kids, as well. We don't have kids. We couldn't have kids. We're not even married and we haven't even done it for five-" his voice faltered as the truth dawned him. "We did it five years ago," he finished meekly.
Hermione sighed and nodded her head. "Ron, don't be mad."
"I'm not mad," he mumbled. "But I need to sit down." He weakly collapsed onto her desk chair. He raked a hand through his hair and stared at the floor with intense interest. Hermione held her breath as he continuously ran his fingers through his hair and she was almost afraid he'd pull his hair out. After an eternity, he looked up at her and said in an awestruck voice, "`Mione, how is this possible? I mean, we only did it once."
She looked at him in sympathy and crawling out of bed, she approached him and knelt at his side. "Ron, I know it's hard, but you've got to understand, we're in this together."
"But why didn't anyone tell me about this? Harry at least?" he argued.
"Ron, they couldn't. I couldn't," she whimpered.
"But why, Hermione? Why?"
"I just couldn't." She averted her face from his gaze and continued, pronouncing every word carefuly, "Do you know what would have happened if I had told you immediately that you and I had kids? Kids, who think their father is dead?"
His blue eyes bore into her face, and once again she felt as though he was reading inside her very soul. "What makes you so sure they're even my kids?"
"Because I haven't done it with anyone for five years," she reminded him and she suddenly realized there were tears rolling down her cheeks. She placed her hands over his and murmured, "Ron, please listen to me. Don't you want to have kids? Our kids?"
He stared at her with a blank expression on his face and at first she thought he was lost in his own daydreams. Finally, he stood up abruptly, causing Hermione to stumble and fall back. Avoiding her eyes, he stammered, "I really should be going home. Mum's probably wondering where I am." He finished dressing, while Hermione silently cried to herself.
He was just about to open her bedroom door, when Hermione asked in a strained voice, "Where are you going?"
He looked at her tear-stained face and he had the sudden urge to wipe those tears away. Instead, he replied, "Need some time to think."
She nodded dumbly and absent-mindedly traced her fingers across the design on the chair. He sighed when he realized it would be difficult for them to talk to one another after what she had just told him. Sighing again, he straightened his collar and finished, "I'll talk to you when I think I'm ready." Saying so, he left her bedroom.
Hermione brushed away the urge of following him, even though she had no idea where he was going. Chocking back a sob, she stood up and tightened her bathrobes. She was just making the bed, when she heard her parents' voices, joined later by the excited voices of her children.
"Hermione dear, we're home," her mother called from downstairs.
"Mum, we had the greatest time," Kellie exclaimed happily, as she and Jason raced up the stairs to go tell their mother about all the fascinating Muggle and wizard animals they had seen at the zoo. Throwing open Hermione's bedroom door, they rushed in eager to tell her the wonderful details.
They stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing their mum, crouched on the floor, her body trembling with the sobs that shook within her.
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"Harry!" Ron yelled, bursting through Harry's apartment door. Ignoring the look he was receiving from an elderly lady, he slammed the door shut and headed for the kitchen.
"Harry!" he called again, and this time got an answer.
"Ron, you don't have to yell so loud. He's got ears," Ginny remarked, coming out of the kitchen, her hands covered with flour.
"Ginny," Ron stammered. "What are you doing here?" He really didn't feel like talking to his sister about the problem he was facing. After all, Harry was a man and he also was his best friend, so he would know more.
"I invited her," Harry replied, poking his head out of the doorway, a happy expression on his face. His face's features, however, softened after seeing Ron's glum face.
"Ron, is something bothering you?" he asked kindly.
Avoiding the question, he answered, "we need to talk." Gripping his arm tightly, he steered his best friend into the living room, followed by an equally concerned Ginny.
"Ron, is everything all right?" she inquired, her brown eyes full of concern.
Tight-lipped, Ron replied, "Stay out of this, Gin." She was about to retort, when Harry signaled her to be quiet. He calmly sat down on the couch and turning his attention to his best friend, he asked, "Are you angry with me, Ron?"
"I think I have the right to be," he answered, his sapphire eyes gleaming. He sank into a chair and continued, "How come you never told me?"
"Never told you what?" Harry responded, bewildered by his behavior. Ron had left the party, feeling quite cheery and now he was frustrated and well, subdued in a strange sense.
"How come you never told me I had kids?"
"What?" Harry and Ginny spluttered at the same time.
"Who told you?"
"How did you find out?"
Ron exchanged glances with his best friend and sister. "Wait a minute. You two knew about this." It was more of a question, rather than a statement.
"Well," Harry began, looking at Ginny for help. She, however, had other ideas.
"Oh look at the time. I really should be going." She got up to leave when Ron held up his hand. "Stop, Gin. Sit right back down, because you're going to tell me everything."
"Everything?" she squeaked. Ron raised his eyebrows at her sharply, and sighing dejectedly, she sank into the sofa.
"Okay, will someone please tell me how long you've know about this?" Ron ordered, his voice slightly pleading.
Harry held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I only found out after Hermione introduced me to her children. And may I say, five years later."
"But why didn't you tell me?" Ron said through clenched teeth and he could feel the water welling up in his eyes.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ginny placed her hand on his knee and turned to face her brother. "Ron, let me explain. Hermione and Dumbledore thought it best that once things got better between you and her, then she would spill the beans to you. I mean, she did tell me you'd met them, but she didn't want to tell you yet that they were your kids."
"Didn't she trust me?" he asked meekly.
A small smile started to appear out of the corners of her mouth. "Oh, she does trust you. She just doesn't trust your temper."
Ron gave her a lopsided grin and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "That's true," he mused. He was quiet for a while before turning to Harry. "But, Harry. I don't know what to do, mate. I mean, she told me that she had told them their father was dead. So how do you think they're going to react when they find out that I'm their father? And what am I going to do about accepting them as my kids?"
Harry didn't know how to reply. He could have said a million things, but all he could muster was, "I'm sure Hermione's got everything under control."
Ron snorted. "I doubt it. She was crying when I left."
"What?" Ginny shrieked, abruptly standing up. Ron stared at her, bewildered.
"What did I say, Gin?"
"How could you do that? After all she's done for you, you left her crying? I can't believe you, Ron."
"Ginny, calm down," Harry stated, holding her hand gently and pulling her down onto the sofa. She sat down, but she didn't lift her eyes off her brother, who was carefully avoiding her gaze. Taking a deep breath, she cupped his face gently and tilted his face up.
"Ron, listen to me," she began.
"Do you think I have a choice?" he reminded her.
She smirked slightly, but continued, "This isn't a time for jokes, Ronald. Look, you're just going to have to accept the fact that Jason and Kellie are your children, whether you like it or not." He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him by placing her finger over his lips.
"Let me finish, Ron. Hermione's raised these kids all by herself, ever since she left Hogwarts. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for her to raise not one child, but two? And all by herself? Ron, I watched those kids grow from mere toddlers into adorable kids. And they've become this all because of the hard work Hermione went through in raising her children. Your children."
Ron huffed. "So if she raised them so well, then why did she have to tell me that they were my kids?"
Next to Ginny, Harry groaned. Ron could be so clueless, sometimes. Voicing Harry's thoughts, Ginny replied, "She told you, Ron, because they're your kids, as well. And they truly are." Smiling to herself, she released her grasp over Ron's face and fell against the back of the couch. She continued in a dreamy voice, "Jason is so much like you, Ron. He's crazy about Quidditch, just as much as you are. He's stubborn and funny and he spends endless hours perfecting his skills in chess. And Kellie."
She paused, running her fingers through her hair. "She's so much like Hermione. Reading as much as she can, fixing Jason's sentences and occasionally playing with her wands, you would think she was a younger version of Hermione, only this time with blue eyes."
Ginny paused dramatically and played with a strand of her hair. Ron was waiting for her to continue and she realized Harry was, as well, for he had not been there while Hermione was raising her kids. Sighing, she finished, "And Ron, Jason adores you. Really, he does. You should have heard him telling Kellie about Ron, who has the red hair he so desperately craves for and Ron, who happens to be his mother's best friend. Trust me, Ron. When they find out that you're their father, they'll be ecstatic."
Ron seemed oblivious to what she'd said, for he mumbled under his breath, "I like his hair."
"Ron," Harry groaned, causing Ron to stare at him quizzically. "Didn't you hear a word Ginny's said?"
He rolled his eyes at him. "I did, Harry. It's just that-" he frowned, searching for the right word. "I'm just not ready for this," he admitted finally.
Harry grinned, but sympathetically placed his hand on his shoulder. "Do you think Hermione was ready to raise two kids all by herself?" he reminded him.
Ron sighed. "Guess not." He looked at his sister, who was staring at him with a worried expression on his face. "I'll tell Hermione when I'm ready to meet my kids."
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Taking a deep breath, Hermione slowly knocked on her children's bedroom door. "Come in," Kellie called. She opened the door and found her daughter busy reading a Muggle book and her son occupied with a miniature broomstick.
Kellie looked up from the book she was reading. "Hey Mum," she greeted warmly. She eyed her mother suspiciously. After finding their mother crying on the floor had really worried her and she wanted to know how she was doing. "Feeling better?"
Hermione smiled at her and wrapped her arms around herself. "Good, kids. Thanks for asking."
"No problem," Jason replied, as his miniature player dove expertly. She sighed to herself as she watched her kids occupied with their own little activities. How could she ever tell them that their father was alive?
"Hey kids, can I talk to you for a minute?" Hermione began, sitting on the edge of Kellie's bed.
"Sure," Kellie answered, placing her book on her bedside table and pulling her knees closer to herself.
"Jason, come here." She motioned for her son to come sit on her knee.
"Awww, Mum, I was just going to perform the Wonksy Faint," he complained but put his Quidditch toys aside. Being a little boy, he still didn't know how to pronounce the difficult words, yet he understood the procedure completely, well at least he thought he did.
Hermione sighed. "Jason, it's Wronski Feint, and you can perform it later. There's something I want to talk to you two about."
"Okay Mum. What's bothering you?" Jason inquired, while perching himself on her lap.
Hermione smiled. Jason always seemed to have a sixth sense whenever she had something on her mind. It was uncanny how alike he and Ron were. Ron…He was the reason she had to talk to her children. Oh, if only he had never left to fight against Voldemort. But the past could not be erased. The future, however, could change.
"Kids, remember when I told you that your father was dead," she began hesitatingly slightly.
Kellie nodded her head. "I remember, Mum."
"Well, what if I told you that wasn't true? What if I told you that your father was alive and well and he's just found out that he has kids?" she finished carefully.
Jason looked at her, with a confused expression on his face. "What are you trying to tell us, Mum?"
Hermione sighed. It was difficult to explain something to little kids, even though she was certain they would be able to understand her. "Jason, I'm trying to say that your father is alive?"
"Really?" Kellie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Who is he?"
The question Hermione had been dreading to answer. Unfortunately, it was unavoidable. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "I can't tell you. Not yet."
"Why not?" Jason remarked. "Do we know him?"
She shook her head sadly. "No, but I can tell you that you're great friends with his family."
"We are?" Kellie said in a hushed voice. "But if he's here, why doesn't he come and meet us?"
"Probably doesn't know we exist," Jason pointed out, causing a small whimper to escape from Kellie.
"No, that's not true," Hermione, informed him.
"Oh yeah, if he does know he exists then why hasn't he come to at least say hello?"
"Because he doesn't know how to come and say hello," she replied lamely.
"I don't think so. I think he doesn't want to have any kids." And to Hermione's enormous surprise, Jason's lower lip started to tremble.
"No, of course not. It's just that, your father-" before Hermione could finish her sentence, Errol, the Weasley's family owl flew through the window, carrying a note through his beak.
She gently took it out and unfolded the note. She read it quickly and grabbing the nearest quill, she scribbled a reply and with a hoot, Errol was gone. "What did it say, Mum?" Jason asked, while rapidly wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt.
Hermione looked away from her children. "It was Aunt Ginny. Your father is going to meet you tomorrow."
***