Day Twelve

Hermione was as nervous as she could ever remember being. She wasn't worried that her parents would scare Harry off, or make him care for her any less, that just wasn't the kind of man that he was. She was nervous because she was ashamed, of the way her parents were sure to behave, and of herself for feeling that way. She thought she would have time to ease him into it, but she hadn't expected her mum to invite him to brunch, so she had to warn him now.

She could not allow him to walk in there unprepared for the way they were certain to talk to him. It had gone right over Ron's head, but Harry would understand and feel every barb. She had tried to tell him the previous night, but she hadn't been able to find the words. She was sure that he knew she had more to say, but he had been so patient with her, held her until the early morning hours, and then left her with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to see her soon.

Today she had to suck it up, be honest, and not get lost in her feelings for him- as appealing of an alternative as that was.

He arrived via floo because they had decided to apparate to her parents'. She was very particular about making sure the arrival and departure of her guests were consistent so that if any of her neighbors were particularly observant, they wouldn't notice inconsistencies like a person arriving and then seeming to never leave. Harry was the only one who didn't complain about this policy.

She was beginning to notice how many categories Harry inhabited as the 'only' one in her life to do certain things.

"Hey," he said with a soft smile, after brushing himself off and giving himself a few moments to just look at her. She really liked how he'd started to do that.

"Good morning," she stepped forward and hugged him. "Thank you for the peppermint quills in my calendar."

"You're welcome, not a particularly creative present, I know. But you like them so much and they're only available this time of year."

"You're spoiling me with things that you know I probably wouldn't buy for myself. Thoughtful and sneaky, I'd say."

"You the one who's dressed like a Slytherin," he countered teasingly as he rubbed the forest green velvet of her dress where it draped over her hips.

"I'm allowed to, in the muggle world," she answered primly, she looked at him until he met her eyes, "and I like green."

"Good," he answered, the inference clearly not lost on him.

She allowed herself a moment to look into those familiar and stunning eyes. They hadn't kissed yet and she was actually enjoying the anticipation, as was Harry, of that she was sure. She was not at all concerned that all the build up would lead to an eventual disappointment and she planned to savor every moment. She finally looked away when she remembered that she had something to do.

"I need to say something before we leave."

He just waited expectantly.

She sighed. "But you already knew that."

He nodded.

She contemplated for the thousandth time how to start explaining, but like all the times before she couldn't come up with anything better than diving right in. "You're not stupid, so I'm sure you've known for a long time that my parents aren't exactly crazy about the magical world."

He searched her face. "I knew that they were hesitant about magical things," he began slowly, "I wasn't sure if they'd always felt that way or if it was because of the war. I only met them a couple of times before it started."

She blew out a long breath. "Both? I think? At first I think they were just relieved to find out that I was a witch, it explained so many things. And at least there wasn't something wrong with me, you know?"

He nodded.

"But I don't think they were prepared for how much it would separate us. Children go to boarding school all the time and it's not a big deal. But I didn't just go to school, I went off to another world completely. And every year the gap widened. I told them less, they understood less about what I could tell them. I'm sure they knew I was hiding a lot, but I think that they were afraid to ask, if they even knew what to ask."

He nodded again, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders with his thumbs as he lightly grasped her upper arms.

"And then the war…and their memories."

"Right," he sighed. "Hermione, if they're angry with me, I understand."

"No," she contradicted immediately, shaking her head. "They're actually on the right side of that one. They think that you were a victim, a child who should have been protected like all the rest of us. And more than that, they know me, they know that nobody dragged me along anywhere. They hold me responsible for my own choices."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"But I guess what I want you to be prepared for, is that the war gave them an excuse to turn their fear of the magical world into something more like disgust. The've more or less decided to feel morally superior to this society which is not only openly bigoted, but allows children to fight their wars for them," she said bitterly. "They conveniently choose to forget the long history of both of those things in the muggle world."

"Oh."

She nodded. "And I can't exactly argue with them, can I? I mean they're not wrong. I have many of the same complaints about our world. I've based a career off of it!"

"It's not that simple though."

"I know that too! But who am I to lecture them after all I've put them through? And when, everytime they go anywhere near the magical world they are met with disdain. Even well meaning people like the Weasleys tend to treat them like they're no more than clever apes. They don't think that muggles should be slaughtered, but they certainly think that having magic is superior. So, Mum and Dad have sort of flipped that around."

Harry frowned. "What you're saying is that, as a defense mechanism, your parents have made themselves feel superior instead?"

"Yes, exactly, a hypocritical defense mechanism!"

"That has got to drive you up the wall," he noted, eyebrows raised, but he just continued to soothe her with gentle touches.

"I'm-" she looked at the floor and lowered her voice. "I'm ashamed of them and angry that they can be like this. But also, what right do I have to feel that way? Me, who used magic to violate them in the worst way!"

"Hermione."

"No. I'm the reason they feel like this. It's a miracle they let me back into their lives at all! This is the only reason that I have any compassion at all for the Dursleys. I mean, I could cheerfully murder them in their sleep for the way they treated you, there's no excuse for that. But as far as they were concerned, the magical world left this baby on their doorstep and said: 'Hey, take this tiny helpless thing. He's the only thing that will keep you from being murdered with magic just like you sister!' They had every right to be terrified and to hate magic. And me, I did that to my own parents!" She clapped a hand over her mouth as horror over what she'd just said, and to whom, overwhelmed her. "Oh my god, Harry, I'm so sorry!"

He pulled her firmly against his chest.

"I'm so sorry," she cried again, trying to push away from him.

He just held her tighter. "Shhh."

"No, I never should have brought up the Dursleys. I had no right-"

"Sure you did, you have every right," he contradicted. "And what you said was true."

"No-"

"Yes, Hermione," he said decisively, pulling back to catch her eyes so that he could communicate how very serious he was. "I'm an auror. My job is to enforce the law and protect the innocent. I know how corny that sounds, but I take it seriously."

"I know you do," she whispered.

"And after my training, after all the emphasis on treating victims with care whether we liked them personally or not, and on staying objective in a situation so that justice could be served fairly, it didn't take me long to work out that the Dursleys were victims of that Halloween too. How they chose to react was wrong, but they never should have been forced to take me. That's why I've always been very firm about not going after them, especially with magic. It's also why I realized a long time ago that the Order should have offered your parents protection. You were the only muggleborn member except for Ted Tonks, and his parents were dead. But more importantly, you were my best friend. You had an enormous target on your back and you were just as essential to Dumbledore's plan as I fact that he didn't have any protections in place for them is unconscionable. You did the only thing you could, and I understand why they're angry and afraid, but that's not your fault."

She sobbed into his chest. "I should have come up with something better."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

"And that's my point. I know it wasn't a perfect solution. You did what you had to. If you haven't come up with something better in five years, I just don't believe there was a better choice and I think you know that, but you're letting your guilt overwhelm your logic. I know something about that."

"Maybe."

"Now, I understand why you haven't said this to your parents. I don't know if you should or not, I don't know them well enough. But why didn't you tell me you felt this way? You must have known I could understand better than anybody else," his voice gentled. "I hate that you've been bottling this up."

"Because I've tried very hard, up until this conversation, not to say things to you that I didn't want you to tell Ron."

"What? Why?" He asked, sounding truly baffled. "I would have kept your secrets, Ron doesn't need to know everything."

"I know that, but it would have been unfair to everybody involved. At least when Ron and I were together. It would have been putting you in the middle and if he'd ever found out…"

That brought him up short. "Ah."

"Yeah." They stood there in uncomfortable silence. "They were not kind to Ron," she confessed.

"Your parents?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "They don't dislike him as a person, for the most part. But they thought I was settling."

"Oh." He took off his glasses and wiped at his face. "I see why you didn't tell me now."

"I'm sorry to put this all on you, and all of a sudden." Harry had clung to a stance of careful neutrality as if his life depended on it throughout her relationship with Ron, which had been frustrating but ultimately understandable. But as their relationship changed, so too would the dynamics amongst the three of them, and it probably wouldn't be easy.

"No, no, we obviously need to talk about this," he flashed her a little grin. "Your brain must be about to explode."

She bit her lip and smiled at him shyly. "So far there's been so much going on here," she pointed to the place above her heart, "that this hasn't really been able to interrupt," she pointed to her head. "But when it does," she warned him, "you're probably in for a lot. Are you sure you still want to do this?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes, Hermione. I might still have a lot to learn about the details, but I know the woman that you are. Everything else is just nuance. You're not the only one with demons either. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

He blew out a long breath and pulled her closer. "I know we need to go so that I don't start off on the wrong foot with your parents, but is there anything else I need to know for this afternoon? Anything I should avoid talking about?"

"No. Just be honest. If it weren't for you being a wizard, they'd think you were quite the catch. I mean, you are quite the catch, so you don't have to worry about anything there."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious Harry. I mean aside from your magical power, your money, and the whole war hero thing, none of which I care about-"

"Basically my entire persona."

"Yes, Harry, your persona. That's all it is, and that's why I don't care. But aside from those things that seem to impress most people, you're an amazing man. I've always counted myself lucky to have you in my life. And my parents aren't so prejudiced that they won't see that. But even if they were, it wouldn't matter to me, I'll choose you every time, Harry Potter."

"I know."

Hermione's breath caught in her chest. "You do?" She managed to choke out.

"Yes. That's what I was thinking about the other night at the pub with Dudley. The reason I got so quiet there at the end."

"What?"

"When Dudley asked us what we would do in his place, if we would tell Amelia about magic. We both said that we would want to choose and be chosen honestly and fully. That was easy for me to answer, but I don't envy Dudley the choice he has to make, because he doesn't have what I have."

She swallowed. "What's that?"

"Somebody who's seen me at my worst. A witch who stood next to me when things were so dark that I'd almost forgotten that light even existed, and who would and has forgiven me anything. A woman who never flinched when she chose me over and over again," he reached up and brushed her hair back from her face.

"Harry-"

"I choose you too. "

Hermione just stood frozen, his eyes boring into hers. She thought she knew what it was to be an important person to Harry Potter. She thought she understood how wonderful and special it was to be precious to somebody who was so fundamentally good and strong. But now, looking into his eyes, she knew that she had no idea what it would really be like to be made the center of this man's world, to live within the full force of his love unleashed. She couldn't wait.

"So, Harry, how's work?" Hermione's father asked when they were seated at a table in the Granger's golf club.

"It's fine, nothing too exciting at the moment."

"Well, I suppose that's good when you're talking about law enforcement."

"True," Harry agreed with a smile.

"But you do enjoy it?"

"I do, most of the time. It's satisfying and I feel like I'm doing some good."

"It's dangerous though, isn't it?" Her mother added. "Hermione's explained that being an auror is rather elite, but you're still out on the streets, doing the dirty work?"

Harry glanced at Hermione and she just shrugged.

"It is. But unfortunately being who I am is dangerous by itself. I'd rather be out there making a difference, than just relying on others to make the world safer."

Hermione could tell that this didn't please her parents, but there was nothing she could do about that. She had asked Harry to tell the truth, as she'd promised to always be truthful with them after she'd reversed their memory charms.

"Does that mean that your current position is the limit of your aspirations? You plan to be career police?"

Hermione cringed at how snobby her father's question sounded. What was more frustrating was that she didn't know if this was a result of the magical factor, or if her parents had always been rather elitist and she just hadn't been able to recognize it through the eyes of a child.

If Harry minded, he didn't show it. "Well, I'm not sure. I like it for now and there are still some dangerous individuals out there who escaped justice after the war. I wanted to help hunt them down. I know there will always be criminals out there, but I hope to at least get rid of the Death Eaters. After we finish that job, I think I would consider doing something else, something less dangerous for when I have a family. I don't know what it would be though. I don't have any political aspirations, so I don't really see myself working my way up the ranks in the Ministry, I think I'll leave that to Hermione."

He smiled at her but she was too busy being shocked to really notice. "I didn't know you felt that way."

He shrugged. "It's just a thought. Like I said, I still feel like I have work to do, so it's never come up in conversation because I'm not actively pursuing it."

"Is it even possible for you to pursue a different career?" Her mother interrupted. "The way Hermione explained it, you were given special dispensation after the war to be an auror. But you didn't take your exams did you?"

Harry winced. "That's true. But I have time to prepare and take them for any job that would require them on top of my experience."

"You could pass all the N.E.W.T.s you were preparing for while we were still at school, Harry," Hermione chimed in.

"I could?"

She nodded vigorously. "You'd need to brush up on the theory, and get back into practice with Potions and Herbology. But I see you perform above N.E.W.T. level in Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence almost daily, and we don't even work together."

"Well," he smiled. "That's good to hear, especially coming from you."

"You mentioned having a family," her mother said, like that entire exchange hadn't even happened. "Is that something you want?"

"Yes, very much," he answered without hesitation.

"Would you consider staying home with your children and letting your wife work?" She said, and Hermione knew that her mother felt like she'd just laid out a serious challenge, but Harry didn't even blink.

"Sure. Why not? It's a personal decision and would depend on the circumstances. But if I had a wife with a particularly demanding career," his eyes drifted to Hermione, "it might be our best option. I'm not attached to being the bread winner, or anything, if that's what you're asking Mrs. Granger."

Her mother just sort of stared at him suspiciously. She insisted on believing that all witches were expected to stay at home and raise the children, just because Molly Weasley had made that choice.

"Harry's never had any particular attachment to traditional gender roles," Hermione said, an edge to her voice. "He's certainly never doubted my abilities as a witch for any reason."

"We're just curious, Hermione," her father soothed. "Now that the pair of you are in a relationship. We wouldn't be good parents if we just sat back and watched somebody try and hold you back from your potential."

Hermione ground her teeth at that obvious and unnecessary shot at Ron, who she hadn't even been romantically involved with in years.

"You are in a relationship now, aren't you?" Her mother continued. "And we can only assume it's serious, as I trust you wouldn't be so foolish as to get involved with another good friend unless it was."

Hermione took a deep breath. "We're together, yes. But it's new, we're still figuring things out ourselves. Please don't interrogate him. I didn't think I needed to explain to you how important Harry is to me."

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said, and she looked up to see that he was completely focused on him. "They can ask me anything they want. And as for me, yes, I'm as serious about you as a person can get."

Her response was automatic: "Me too."

Author's Note: I'm behind replying to comments, and I'm sorry. December weekends are unfortunately not restful. However, please don't doubt how much I cherish being able to come home, write, and read the lovely things you guys say to me. The love for this story has been amazing and I can't thank you enough!