Disclaimer : The Harry Potter characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. Many thanks to her for letting them roam about in the world I created for a bit.
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CHAPTER 7 – Better Days
"Well, Hermione, I think you need to sit down and listen to what I have to tell you."
Hermione was thankful that Mark had pulled out a chair for her, because she nearly passed out from the wave of fear and fear-induced nausea that had washed over her. All she could think was that those two British bastards had told Mark all about who she really was. Her life was quickly crumbling around her.
Mark must've recognized her panic, because when he sat down at the table, he sat very close, facing her and gently began to rub his right hand up and down her back. Suddenly she felt that familiar wave of euphoria wash over her. She could never understand why he was able to make her feel this way. She closed her eyes and took the three calming breaths she had always made herself take in stressful situations.
"Feeling better now, sweetie?" Mark asked, his voice soft and calm. "There's nothing to worry about, love. Nothing at all."
Hermione could immediately feel her eyes feel with tears. She was a battleground of conflicting emotions. She was terrified beyond belief and everything in her body was telling her to grab the kids and run; however, another part of her loved Mark more than she could ever remember loving anyone other than her parents, and even though they weren't "together" in the sense of normal couples, Mark was all that she had. She needed to believe him. She needed to believe that she had nothing to worry about.
Mark tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear and then smiled a genuine smile at her. She returned the smile the best she could before Mark began speaking. "Well, I guess, first things first. I know you're name isn't Miranda Chase. I now know that it is actually Hermione Granger, and if what Ron said about your reaction last night when he slipped up and called you Hermione, then you know that is actually your name as well."
Hermione quickly looked down at the table. Even through her terror, she felt guilty for lying to Mark for so long. He had been so many things to her, and she had dishonored their relationship by lying to him for nearly three years. She hated herself even more for the fact that he had to find out the truth from two men who were most likely there to kill her.
She was startled from her thoughts when Mark ran his fingers down her cheek to her chin and turned her face toward him. "It is an absolute honor to meet you, Hermione Granger."
Any bit of resolve that Hermione had left broke as the tears began to spill down her cheeks and her lower lip began to quiver as she muttered, "I'm so sorry."
Mark cut off her apology. "No, sweetie. You have nothing to be sorry about. I completely understand why you couldn't tell me who you were. I know that you thought you had to keep your identity a secret to keep yourself safe. But there's more; more that you don't know about. But you don't have to be scared anymore; you don't have to hide anymore. There's so much to tell you, and like I said before, you need to hear me out before you start to question what I have to say. And, trust me, dear, there will be questions!"
On the verge of a full out sob, Hermione pleaded, "Please, Mark, don't let them hurt my babies." Hermione had accepted the fact that she had been found and that her death was now imminent. She assumed that, for what ever reason, Mark had been given some sort of deal, because she was sure that Ron and Harry (if that was really their names) would have just killed Mark and waited for her to return home to finish their job. If these two had cut a deal with him, she was definitely going to plead for her children's lives. After all, they had absolutely no contact with anyone in Britain.
Quickly Mark pulled Hermione into a hug, but it was Harry who spoke, his voice laced with deep emotion. "Dear Merlin, Hermione, we're not hear to hurt you. We're hear to take you home."
Hermione quickly pulled away from Mark to look questioningly at the dark haired man. She was just about to question exactly what he meant by "home" when something else struck her curiosity. "Merlin? What's with all this Merlin shit? Ron used the same phrase last night."
Both Mark and Harry chuckled and Harry looked at Mark and asked, "She still doesn't miss the most minute of details, does she?" For his answer, Mark just smiled and shook his head.
Hermione was about to get very angry with both men for apparently sharing some sort of insane inside joke when a terrible thought occurred to her. "Where is he?" she practically screamed. "That red headed bastard better not lay one hand on my children!"
She started to stand, but Mark put his hand on her shoulder. "Relax. He's not here. He left actually rather quickly. He got a bit of a shock, but we'll get to that later."
Hermione snorted and said, "He got a bit of a shock?" She noticed that Mark and Harry gave each other a knowing look. "What's going on here?" she asked.
Mark turned serious again and said, "Well, my dear. There's a few things I've kept from you as well."
And there it was. He hadn't cut a deal with the two British political terrorists. He was working with them. Probably had been since even before he and she had met. Everything they had done together, led up to this moment, the moment her life ended. She couldn't help but feel a little glad that at least she was going to die Hermione Granger and not Miranda Chase.
She decided that since she was already a goner, she was going out fighting. "You bastard!" she screamed at Mark. "You're one of them. You've spent nearly three years setting me up. How much are these terrorists paying you, huh? Is Joe in on this too or have you been lying to him as well?"
She was completely dumbfounded when Mark started laughing at her. The bastard actually had the balls to sit there and laugh at her. She felt an all-encompassing anger building up when suddenly Mark had pulled her into a hug. She tried to push him away, but he only held on tighter and suddenly, the anger was subsiding and she was beginning to feel calm.
"How the hell do you do that?" Hermione screamed as she finally succeeded in pushing Mark away.
She had expected him to question her question, but instead he answered with one word. "Magic."
"Excuse me?"
"Magic, love. I take away your pain and your fear and your anxiety with magic."
"Oh, honestly. So is this part of your game? Are you trying to drive me around the bend before you let him kill me?"
For the second time since Mark started this conversation, Harry spoke up. "Excuse me? I'm not here to kill anyone, especially not you, Hermione. I've spent that last five years wishing you back."
Hermione had had enough. She was done with whatever game was being played here. At the moment, she definitely wasn't feeling threatened in any way. She assumed that if they were going to make a move to harm her, they would've done it by now. She stood up abruptly, intent on grabbing Daniel and Emma and getting the hell out of there, but in the process of standing, her chair caught on the tile and tipped backwards knocking a glass off of the counter behind her and causing it to shatter all over the floor.
"Bloody hell!" She swore and, despite her intent on leaving, her obsessive-compulsiveness kicked in and she grabbed a dishtowel off the table and turned to begin to clean up the mess but stopped at the sound of Mark's voice.
"Reparo."
Hermione stood, eyes wide with shock, staring at the glass now sitting on the floor in perfect condition. Just seconds ago it was in pieces all over the floor behind her and now it wasn't. She was further shocked when she heard Mark speak again ("Accio glass") and suddenly the glass was moving on its own accord from the floor and into Mark's hand. Hermione was thankful that Harry had already righted her chair because once again she went weak in the knees as she almost passed out, this time from shock.
"Magic. I'm a wizard, Hermione. I'm a wizard, Harry, here, is a wizard, Ron's a wizard, and, love, you're a witch. I'm pretty sure that Daniel and Emma have magical abilities as well."
Everything began to go black when she heard someone saying her name. "Hermione? Hermione? Hermione?"
'----------
"Hermione?"
She was jerked from her thoughts by a soft touch on her shoulder. Hermione shook her head to clear it and looked at the pregnant woman who was now sitting next to her.
Once in from the roof outside the guest room, Hermione had turned off the CD player and had sat in the middle of the queen-sized bed with her back leaning against the headboard and her knees pulled up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her legs and she had rested her chin on her knees just before she had spaced out remembering back to her encounter this afternoon with her housemate and a man she would eventually find out in a very long and confusing conversation was her long lost best friend from school…magic school.
Ginny Potter had apparently sat down on the edge of the bed while Hermione was lost in her thoughts. The woman was looking at her with so much awe and appreciation and love that Hermione felt slightly uncomfortable. She quickly put her face down where her knees were touching and sighed loudly.
"How are you doing?" the redheaded mother-to-be asked.
Hermione chuckled slightly and raised her head to look at the other woman placing her chin on her knees again. "Well, I've had better days."
Ginny smiled and laughed a bit as well. "Well, if it's any consolation, you've had a lot worse, too."
Hermione smiled back at the woman and agreed. "I suppose you're right about that." She then felt her heart constrict at the thought that her life was completely in turmoil.
Ginny placed a soothing hand on Hermione's forearm and said, "Ok. So how bad did those two bugger things up with their attempt at an explanation?" She smiled brightly at Hermione.
Hermione returned the smile but not nearly as enthusiastically. "Oh, I wouldn't say that they buggered things too much. I don't think that anyone could've made the information any harder or any easier to grasp. I still don't think I am completely ready to accept everything as truth."
"Well you're wrong about one thing." Hermione quirked one eyebrow in a look of confusion at Ginny's comment. The redhead simply smiled almost mischievously as she said, "My prat of a brother could've definitely managed to bugger things up if he'd been the one trying to explain."
Hermione blushed slightly at the mention of the person who had invaded most of her thoughts while she was sitting out on the roof. Timidly she started, "About your brother…um…oh, never mind." The last bit was said in almost a whispered voice.
"What did Harry tell you about Ron?"
Hermione let out a loud sigh before answering. "Nothing. I asked him how Ron fit into all of this and he said that we were friends but that it would probably be best for him to explain things."
"Yeah, that sounds like my Harry." Ginny smiled and winked at Hermione then stared into her eyes. Hermione began to feel uncomfortable once again under the other women's scrutinizing look when Ginny startled her by speaking.
"Yes."
Hermione was a little taken back. Confused, she said, "Yes, what?"
"Yes. It's the answer to the question that you're too afraid to ask, but I can see it lingering behind your eyes. Yes, you and Ron were involved before you had to leave us."
Suddenly tears were flowing from Hermione's eyes and she was sobbing nearly uncontrollably. Quickly, she found herself in the loving embrace of the woman who she was told was once her childhood friend. Ginny was soothingly stroking Hermione's hair and whispering soft, nonsensical words.
Hermione jerked back, shaking her head as if she was trying to tell herself that she wasn't upset. Tears still streaming down her cheeks and her lower lip quivering, Hermione voiced the one thing she had kept to herself all afternoon and into the evening while all the information about her past life was being presented to her.
"Oh, god, Ginny. I knew. I knew it was him. Oh, god, how can I ever look at him again?" Hermione quickly buried her face in her hands.
She heard Ginny sigh before saying, "Hermione, dear, you're not making any sense. What did you know?"
They sat in silence for a moment or two or a million for all that Hermione knew. She took in a deep breath before removing her hands so she could once again make eye contact with the other woman in the room. "When we kissed last night, I knew in my heart that I knew him…that we'd been together before. My body was reacting to him in a way that it had never reacted with another man, not that there had really been anyone serious since I moved here."
Hermione looked down at her hands, contemplating exactly what she wanted to share with her companion, when Ginny spoke. "He loves you, you know? Always has and I'm sure, always will."
Hermione was sure that Ginny was only trying to comfort her, but all that it accomplished was turning on the waterworks once again. The only other time that Hermione could ever remember crying this hard was the day that she found out she was pregnant. Well, actually it was the day she found out and the week that followed. She was completely distraught, but what girl wouldn't be. She was eighteen years old, had just lost her parents ten weeks before, and couldn't even remember having sex, let alone who she had had sex with to get in that condition.
"Ginny?" Hermione was greeted with a soft but sad smile. "The twins?"
Ginny's smile widened although there were now tears forming in her eyes as well. She simply answered with just a nod of her head. Hermione took a very ragged breath, trying her best not to break out into another whole-hearted sob. Her heart constricted. How was she going to face Ron again, because she knew he was somewhere in her house and she would have to see him again.
Hermione was once again engulfed in a hug. "It's going to be alright, Hermione. Trust me. In two days we'll be able to return your memories to you and everything will be right as rain."
Hermione pulled away and quickly slid off the opposite side of the bed. Ginny was looking at her expectantly. Suddenly feeling extremely guilty, she looked to the floor before saying, "What if I don't want them back?"
'----------
Ron sat on the sofa in the house of Special Agent Marcus Randall staring into his glass of whiskey and listening to the voice coming from the telly. He had been in this state since he had been shooed out of the bedroom upstairs by his currently overbearing sister. He was reliving the events of the day over and over again in his head. He couldn't even begin to understand what Hermione must be going through.
He let out a sigh just as he felt Harry shift his weight on the other end of the sofa. "So how do you think things are going up there?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged. "Must not be too bad. You know that both Ginny and Hermione are very stubborn and capable women. I haven't heard anything break or explode, so things must be going fine considering the situation."
"Yeah, I suppose. How are you holding up, mate?"
Ron chuckled a bit. "Well, I suppose I've had better days, huh?"
"Yeah, suppose you have. But we've found her, and true to herself, she's taken the information in stride and seems to be analyzing everything. Knowing our 'Mione, she's up their with Ginny making lists and schedules and such."
Ron couldn't help but smile; however, it quickly faded. "I'm scared, Harry." Ron didn't turned to look at his friend, but he could feel the other man's eyes boring into him. "What if she doesn't want me? What if I haven't become the man she expected me to be? I mean, Merlin, I don't even know the first thing about being a dad, Harry."
"Ron, you'll be fine. Everything will be fine. I'm sure she's still going to want you. You know for a fact that she's still attracted to you, right? Plus, Hermione loved you long before you even realized that she didn't stand up to piss."
Ron quickly punched Harry in the arm. "Harry," he groaned.
Harry just laughed. "Just trying to break the tension, mate! Anyway, it is the truth. She loved you even before I think she knew what it was that she was feeling. And as for you not becoming the man she expected you to be. That's just bollocks! You're a great Auror, second only to yours truly." Again, Harry laughed but avoided Ron's attack on his arm. "And Ron, you know about as much about being a dad as I do, but you don't see me freaking out."
"That's different though. You've had months to get used to the idea and you'll get to start from scratch. I've missed all the firsts with them and what if they don't even like me? What if they hate me for not finding their Mum and them sooner?"
Ron was really beginning to panic. Just as he was sitting here, speaking with his best mate, Ron was coming up with even more fears and questions. Thankfully when he had returned with Ginny, the twins had already been put to bed. Dealing with Hermione was going to be hard enough; he didn't want to add the awkwardness of trying to figure out how to approach the twins as well.
Ron was pulled from his thoughts as Mark poked his head into the sitting room and announced that there was an owl in the kitchen with a letter addressed to Harry. Harry quickly stood and followed the homeowner into the kitchen. Ron was left alone for the first time in hours to contemplate what his life had become. He let out a long sigh before placing his elbows on his knees and then his face into his hands.
He was trying to decide what he was going to say to Hermione when he was once again face to face with her, when he was startled by a tiny female voice.
"Who are you?"
Shocked, Ron sat up quickly only to come face to face with an anxious looking little girl. 'Oh, Merlin, what was her name again?' Ron suddenly felt a pang in his heart and sick at his stomach. What kind of messed up world was he living in? He didn't even know his own child's name.
Ron noticed the look of fear in the little girl's eyes as she started to back up. The last thing he wanted to do was frightened his daughter ('Boy that felt weird…daughter…I have a daughter.') so in a soft voice he answered her question.
"Ronald Weasley. I knew your Mum when she was in school. What's your name?"
The little girl worried her lower lip between her teeth and Ron had to smile. He couldn't begin to count the number of times he had seen the same reaction from Hermione when she was thinking how to respond to a question. He was truly amazed at how much the little girl looked like her mother. The similarities were apparent in the photo, but in person, they were truly remarkable.
"I'm Emma Madeline Chase," she responded very properly, and Ron had to chuckle as she even extended her hand toward him. He would've expected nothing less than perfect manners from Hermione's children. 'That's only because I haven't had my chance at corrupting them yet.' Ron again began to chuckle, but his heart broke when the meaning of his thought hit him.
He put on a big, fake smile and took her little hand into his. "It's a pleasure to meet you Emma Madeline Chase." It took all he had not to call her Weasley. Once he released her hand, she moved to sit at the empty end of the sofa and stared at him.
"Did you make Mummy cry?"
Ron felt his eyes start to fill with tears. How could he answer this question. Yes, he was at least part of the reason she was crying, but did she mean now or was this about last night or had she still been so upset this morning that she was still in tears over the mess he'd made the night before.
He decided to take the safe way out and lie. "I'm not sure why you're mummy is upset, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
Ron watched as Emma nodded as if to agree with his analysis of the situation. He also noticed that she inched her way a little closer to him. She was looking at him intently, and it was starting to make his slightly nervous at being scrutinized by a five year old. He tried to will himself not to look away and just when his will was about to break, she spoke.
"You're hair is like Danny's. Do you know Danny?"
"Well, love, I haven't met Danny, but I'm guessing he's your brother."
Emma smiled and her eyes lit up. "Mummy calls me love too."
Ron couldn't help but smile too. She, his daughter, was absolutely adorable. "She does?" Emma simply shook her head in agreement. "Well, me and her both grew up in the same place. Lots of people get called love there." He noticed that her smile faltered a bit, and he realized that he had probably just burst some bubble of uniqueness for her. "But you're mummy and me only use it on really special people."
Ron was happy to see that his last statement had the desired effect. Emma was smiling brightly once again. Ron was trying to decide exactly what he wanted to say to her next when Mark came into the room.
"Emma Madeline, you are supposed to be in bed, young lady."
Ron had to try hard not to smile when Emma looked at the other man and stuck her lip out in a much practiced and probably much used pout and said, "But Uncle Mark, I need a drink of water. My throat is all itchy." She had even started batting her eyelashes.
Ron had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn't say he had ever seen Hermione use this particular tactic to get what she wanted, but he had most definitely seen both Fred and George as well as Ginny use it time and time again on their mother when they were growing up. 'I guess some behaviors are truly inherited.'
Mark kissed the girl on the top of the head and said, "Just a small one and then straight to bed for you."
Ron suddenly felt very tired as well as the need to relieve himself. Before Mark disappeared into the kitchen once more, he asked, "Hey, mate, where's your loo?" When the other man looked at him questioningly, he rephrased his questions? "Your, um, bathroom?"
"Upstairs on the right at the end of the hall, next to the last door."
Ron nodded then made his way up the stairs. Before he was even two steps up, he was once again lost in his own thoughts. He only slightly registered the fact that it was odd that Mark had said it was the next to the last door at the end of the hall when there was only one door at the end of the hall. He sighed once again at how messed up his life had become in less than forty-eight hours before opening the door to go into the loo.
It took him about half a second to realize that this room wasn't the loo and even less than that to notice that Hermione was standing just inside the door, topless and in the process of removing her jeans. Both of the former lovers froze in shock and stared into one another eyes.
Ron's eyes quickly went wide when he realized that his body was having the same reaction it'd had five years ago at the sight of Hermione topless. 'Oh, god, not now!' He quickly looked down as if staring at the bulge that had formed in the front of his trousers could rid him of the embarrassing reaction. He looked up again to notice that apparently Hermione had followed his line of sight because she was staring wide-eyed at the front of his trousers.
That sight only furthered to arouse him, making his current situation more uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and when she made eye contact with him once again, he managed a sheepish grin before he said, "Hey."