DISCLAIMER: Still alive and kicking, though I sadly don't own Harry Potter. Sigh.
NOTE: This chapter is going to move rather rapidly and yes, there is a reason. Mainly, I need to rush time to get to the big "OH MY GOD" thingymajig I have planned. Also, go back and reread the Prologue or the first chapter…not sure what I put it as. ALSO NOTICE THE CHARACTER PAIRING!
Chapter 23:
The clouds were just beginning to break overhead as the screams finally died down. In front of him, Harry peered out at the garden of corpses, dark red blood staining the ground under his feet. To his left stood Hermione, stiff and unmoving.
The Boy-Who-Lived had just completed his destiny, he had killed one man who had been feared for over two decades now. Voldemort laid in a pile of smouldering ashes not twenty feet away from Harry, his scorched robes being the only marker of his burial site.
Remus Lupin stood at Harry's right, one hand clamped upon his shoulder. Though he spoke no words to Harry, he could feel the lycan's support just through the bare touch.
Slowly, Harry's hand found Hermione's, lacing his fingers through hers as they watched the medi-witches scour the field for those who still lived, leaving those who did not for the time being. It was a happy as well as sad day in the wizarding world.
"Harry," Hermione's sweet voice was a relief from all the cold wrapping around him, "let's go home…away from here. Let someone else worry now, you need to rest."
He nodded mutely, his hand still wrapped around hers. He needed her now more than anything else. He knew that and she knew that.
With a silent pop, they disapparated from the bloody field together, hand in hand.
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Three years later
"Harry, I need you to watch Remadora while Tonks and I go out and shop for her birthday presents," an almost silver haired werewolf said as he shifted through the mail on the counter. He glanced up once at one of his best friend's only child to see the now twenty year old Harry Potter cooing at his one year old daughter.
"Moony," Harry said over his shoulder, "she's one. I don't think you have to worry about her knowing what you're buying her."
Said werewolf hit the smart-mouthed boy in the back of the head with a letter. Then, with a grin, said, "It's just that Tonks and I want her to have a normal upbringing, or as normal as possible with all things considering."
"You mean you being a mangy werewolf, her mother being a smarmy shape-shifter, her godmother being a time-traveler and one of the most powerful witches of her age, and her godfather known as the saviour of the wizarding world?" Harry asked smartly with a teasing grin on his face.
Remus glared, but nevertheless replied, "Something along those lines."
Harry smiled and picked up the little girl who was giggling at him and playfully tugging at his messy hair. "Sure, I'll keep little Dora for you. Anyways, Hermione is always complaining that it gets rather boring at home."
Remus grinned slyly. "Won't be for too long though, will it?"
Harry tucked Dora securely on his hip , a blanket wrapped tightly around her. "Shouldn't be," he confirmed before disappearing into the fireplace, green flames licking up behind him.
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The whistle on the teapot really was getting on her nerves, Hermione thought as she picked up her wand and in one easy movement, blew up the teapot. Lately, her nerves had been tested and Hermione wasn't very patient, something which others assured her came hand in hand with her condition.
Harry had left some time ago at Remus' request, saying that he should be back before too long. Hermione had thus been left alone with her thoughts, something she lately liked to avoid.
It had been three years now since she had returned from the past, facing the demons that laid before her. Voldemort was now gone by Harry's hand and the wizarding world was Evil Guy free for the time being, though peace hardly ever lasted long.
It was during her times alone that Hermione's thoughts strayed back to her first love, the man who could make her smile just by glancing at her. She remembered his eyes like she had just seen them, the deep darkness of them sucking her down into a black pit where only she and he lived.
Harry had known about her relationship with Sirius, though he didn't know the full extent of it. Remus had assured her that he had kept it down to the bare minimum, only disclosing the details that had needed to be exposed.
In the closing hours of the day after Voldemort had been destroyed, Harry had professed his love to her and begged her to stay with him, even if she didn't return his feelings. She had been speechless at first but then began to accept the fact that she would never have Sirius and needed to move on. So began her relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived.
She had only started out loving Harry like a brother, but somewhere along the way, her feelings towards him began to change. Of course, the love she had for him never reached the amount of love she had for Sirius, but maybe one day it would.
One day, a little over one year into their relationship, Harry had taken Hermione away to Spain on a weekend getaway. He had to plead her into going, saying that they both needed a little respite from their hectic daily lives. Of course, she had agreed and so they set off, journeying to one of the most beautiful countries in the world in Hermione's opinion.
They had only been there for two nights when Harry had done the unexpected- he proposed. And not in any way deeply romantic, actually, it was rather sudden and not thought out.
They had been walking down the street when they had passed an elderly couple on the bench. The man had a paper bag sitting on his lap and the woman was sitting there gazing at the people who strolled by. Their hands were locked tightly together and, though they were not showing any great amount of affection publicly, one could see the love shining in their eyes.
Harry had then turned to her and said, "One day, when we're old, that is where I want to be with you."
She, in return, asked, "What do you mean, Harry?"
His only response was to pull a box out of his pocket and say, "I'm meaning that we should get married and spend our life together, watching as the world races by."
And that was all it took. Hermione didn't refuse, she loved Harry and knew that she would be happy with him. So, seven months later, they were married in a quiet little ceremony where only their closest friends and relatives were invited.
Now, exactly thirteen months after they had married, Hermione was sitting on the couch, an annoyed frown on her face at the stillness in the house, and her stomach removing the view of her feet. She wasn't exactly what one would call, at the moment, a "pleasant" pregnant woman.
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"I'm telling you, something is happening in that room!" an enraged Ministry official cried as the other occupants of the room surveyed him sceptically.
"And why, Mr. Tomlinson, are you coming forward now if you say this has been happening for the past, what was it, three years?" a bald man towards the back asked. His arms were crossed in front of him and it was quiet obvious that he did not believe a word of what George Tomlinson was saying.
"Because it didn't seem like much of anything before," George explained, sitting back down in the chair, "but lately, something weird has been happening."
"Excuse me, but don't you think any sort of activity in that room is weird?" a smart looking witch said as she surveyed the man over top of her glasses, her hair pushed back severely from her face. She had a rather calculating glance, though it did appear that she was willing to accept George's accounts…if he could provide substantial evidence.
"Well, no ma'am," George answered obediently. Making eye contact with everyone, he added, "With magic, anything can happen so I just thought it…natural."
"So," the bald man spoke up again, "why come forward now and make such a claim? Why wait three years to bring this to our attention?"
"Because it's growing more intense," George said. "There seems to be a surge of power or something in that room, sort of like something is growing…."
"Growing what precisely?" a robed man asked, stepping slightly into the light. He was an Unspeakable and, though no one knew his name, they knew him.
George glanced up at him, his eyes wide though there was no fear there, and answered, "restless. The veil is coming to life."
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"Hermione!"
Harry's voice stirred Hermione from her slumber. Her neck was now aching from the rather awkward position she had fallen asleep in on the couch. Come to think of it, her back was aching too. "In here."
Harry strode through the living room doorway, a bright smile on his face and a giggling Remadora Lupin balanced neatly on his hip. He placed his little goddaughter in the playpen they had bought for their own child and walked over to Hermione, pecking her lips. "Miss me?"
Hermione smiled teasingly, "Just a little. I was too tired to notice your absence."
Harry pouted a bit and kissed her again, this time letting his lips linger there. When he pulled up, he noticed the remains of the once very pretty teapot. "Er…what happened?"
Hermione glanced over the top of the couch at what he was staring at. "Oh…that."
Harry grinned playfully and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Yes, that."
"Well, you left it on whenever you left and I didn't know. I got comfy on the couch and didn't feel like getting up to get it when it started whistling," she stated simply.
"So you blew it up?"
She shrugged. "We needed a new one anyways. That one had yellow on it."
Harry stared at her stupidly. "But, darling, our kitchen is yellow."
"Exactly. Too much matching. I'm thinking… blue."
"For a kitchen?"
"No, silly," she responded with a wave of her hand, "for a teapot."
"Um…." Harry thought back to when Hermione had first became pregnant and everyone telling him to agree with her during the later stage of pregnancy. "Sure, darling. Whatever you want, it's yours," he added, leaning in for another kiss.
She shoved her hand in front of his face, her eyes alight. "What I want is for you to never touch me again. That way, I'll never look like a beluga whale again."
"Don't be silly, love," Harry responded with a grin, "whales are creatures of the water."
Hermione glared at him. "One more comment like that, Mr. Potter, and you'll see what else is a creature of the water when I'm through with you."
Harry had his mouth open to retort when a loud pop sounded from the kitchen. "HARRY!" the worried voice of Kingsley Shaklebolt cried.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried glance and each rose from the couch, Hermione a little slower and unsteady. "We're in here," Harry called, holding out a hand to help his wife.
The aging man had never looked more worried than he did in that moment, Hermione thought as he ran into the room. His eyes were wide and fearful, his wand drawn.
"We need your help," he said quickly. "Can you come?"
Harry glanced at Hermione, then at Kingsley. "What's happened?"
"The veil," Kingsley said. "It's alive…"
"What…how….?" Harry stammered.
"I don't think that's your most pressing issue at the moment," Hermione said, her eyes wide, one hand on her stomach. "My water just broke."
A/N: READ ME! Okay, first, I'll say again, LOOK AT THE CHARACTER PAIRING IN THE SUMMARY! Don't get to attached to what you may see here. Then, GO READ THE PROLOGUE OR WHATEVER IT IS. That's all I'm going to tell you.
Sorry it took so long. Actually, I know how I want it to end and everything, I just had trouble figuring out how I was going to get there, hence the long period it took me to get this typed. Plus, I was a little agitated and I found that when I'm in a foul mood, someone dies in my chapter. So, I just don't write. Great system, eh? Most of you will probably come after me with pitchforks when you find out how this is going to end but there is a reason for everything. The epilogue will answer it all, I PROMISE. For those of you who didn't get the hint, the letter can be found in my Live Journal (link in profile). If you want to read it, go. If you don't, okay, but it won't be posted anywhere else. Well…maybe it won't…..
Much love,
Amaya