AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
It was the fourth time in as many minutes that Hermione shot a glance at the fireplace. The flames crackled, but they did not expand. At no point did she hear Harry's voice or see his ashen face. She was uncertain how good of an omen this was.
"If you add strawberry ice cream to the lacewing flies you could create a lovely laxative," Severus drawled from across the sofa, not looking up from the parchment in his hands.
"Strawberry ice cream sounds brilliant." She redirected her attention to the fireplace.
"Once we add it, we can throw in a sprig of cilantro and a head of broccoli."
"Yes , we can… wait a second…" She furrowed her eyebrows before turning to him.
Severus lowered the parchment and smirked.
"Arse," She muttered.
"Would you have me any other way?"
"No." She relaxed "I would not."
"All that being said," Severus set the parchment atop a stack of books on the nearby coffee table. "We can forego researching tonight. It is clear that your mind is elsewhere, though I cannot criticize you for it."
"I think it's best that we forego researching, unless you think strawberry ice cream is a viable laxative."
"Sadly I do not." Severus slid closer to her. "Though it would make a wonderful dessert."
"Indeed." She sighed before sneaking another glance at the fireplace.
Crookshanks strutted across the room. He took one look at the fireplace, wondering why it was receiving such attention. Upon finding it unworthy of his interest, he stretched and lay down on the faded red rug.
"I'm sorry I'm not better company," She began. "My mind keeps wandering to Harry and Luna. They've wanted a child for so long. It's nice to see them finally living out their dream."
"Did they have fertility issues?"
"Not that I'm aware of, but I know the one thing that helped Harry through the war was the thought that he may start a family someday. Sometimes I think he nearly sacrificed himself for his child, nobody else."
Severus hummed.
"He's desperately wanted any kind of family for some time. Yes, he has Luna, but he's always wanted someone to call him, 'Daddy,' someone who looks at him not as The-Boy-Who-Lived, but as a great man in his own right."
He twisted his lower lip.
"You have no interest in any of this, do you?" Hermione frowned.
"I actually take a great deal of interest in this topic," his glow pulsated.
"But…"
"My feelings on all of this are," he tugged at his robe. "Complicated."
"Because of how Harry cleared your name."
"Amongst other things."
She kept her silence. He would either tell her what was on his mind or change the topic.
"I was furious when I learned of Harry's conception," his glow turned blue. "We both know how I reacted."
She bit her lower lip.
"My fury almost killed Potter. It took years to understand that, and even longer to feel as if I needed to atone for that somehow."
"You more than atoned for what happened."
"Perhaps, but it does not change the fact that had I gotten my way all those years ago," his voice was quieter. "This newborn may not exist."
She ran her hand along the couch.
"When I gave Voldemort that prophecy, I did not consider that I could have harmed an innocent child. Truth be told, even when I dreamed of a life with Lily, I didn't even consider raising Potter. In my mind, he would just disappear." He shook his head. "As if Lily would ever forget her own child."
"You were angry, and not thinking clearly."
"Does that excuse my actions?"
"No," she admitted. "But it does no good to look back and regret them now."
"Everyone would have been much better off had I kept my mouth shut." His glow darkened.
"Perhaps, or James and Lily may have died some other way when Harry was still an infant."
"It would not have been at my hands though."
"No, but then who could have spied for us?"
"There may have been others."
"But would anyone have been as dedicated as you?"
He pursed his lips together.
"You have atoned for your sins. Even Harry would say that."
"Sometimes I wonder how he could ever forgive me," He whispered. "Or even why he would do so."
"Are you upset with him at least in part because you cannot bring yourself to accept his forgiveness?"
Severus' glow was white.
"When Harry cleared your name, it was proof that he'd forgiven you. Do you feel unworthy of it, so you're taking it out on him?"
His glow flickered.
"You need to learn to accept forgiveness," she tapped his hand, sending a jolt of serenity through them both. "Harry forgives you, and I forgive you. Now it's time for you to forgive yourself."
"I've done horrible things, things which if you ever discovered would lead you to hate me."
"I know enough about you to hate you, just as you know enough about me to hate me. Still, we love each other, which is what's most important."
"I am unworthy of your love."
"One could say I'm unworthy of yours."
"How?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm bossy, sometimes sullen, and have a penchant for doing the wrong thing at the wrong time," she began.
"Those statements could equally apply to me."
"Exactly, but I love you completely. I love you for who you are, even if you are a stubborn, snarky spirit who is prone to bouts of depression."
"I love that you're a persistent witch who has a knack for dragging me out of my moods." He leaned in closer to her.
She brushed her lips against his essence. Before he could lean in closer, the fireplace erupted.
"Hermione?"
Hermione broke away, tears in her eyes.
"Hermione! He's here! I have my son! I have a son!"
It was the floo call she'd waited all night for.
"Where are my cars?"
James suppressed a groan. There were few demons he enjoyed interacting with less than Ahpuch. Just his luck that they always sent him to demand new supplies for hell.
"We have fifteen reckless drivers coming down in the next two weeks!" He shouted over the cacophony of the angels, demons, and other souls in the waiting room behind him. "Fifteen! We need those cars for their punishment now!"
"I heard you." James grabbed the pile of papers in front of him and began shuffling through them.
Ahpuch leaned against the glass separating him from James, exposing his bare skull and bony arms. He slanted his yellow eyes. It was clear he had reached his wit's end ten hours ago.
James had never been to a Department of Motor Vehicles, but an American soul said it was similar to this. The souls sat at a gray desk with barely enough room to process ten documents, much less the fifty to a hundred he dealt with daily. His black chair was thinly padded, meaning a few times he swore he was getting a backache. How souls got backaches he'd never know, because when he asked Uriel barked at him to return to work. A few times he wished he still needed to use the restroom, if only so he could escape the mountains of intake forms.
"Where are the forms?" Ahpuch shouted.
James shuffled through them faster. There had to be at least fifty documents which needed to be processed ASAP. Of course, St Peter had left all of them an hour ago, told him to deal with them, and left without much more said. It was going to take at least a year to get each form in the proper place, and apparently the demon had two weeks for this specific one to be processed.
"Why hadn't he just done his schoolwork? It would've been so much easier than this.
Ahpuch tapped his bony foot and rapped his fingers along the window's edge.
James picked up a form and moaned. Of course an A1 form would get mixed in. Just his luck…
"You know, I'm getting a little tired of us demons receiving so little respect," Ahpuch began to nobody in particular. "We take the dregs of the afterlife, give them a place so heaven doesn't annihilate their existence, and our thanks is that we have to deal with the sloths who wouldn't understand how to file forms correctly if their afterlives depended upon it."
James' eyes widened when he saw the name of the child on the form, just above the name of his father.
"I swear I sometimes wish Armageddon would happen already, if only so we could have a stable number of souls to deal with. Of course Satan got himself stuck in ice, and we can't do anything without his sorry arse. Idiot just keeps flapping around. I swear by the time he gets out everyone will just say screw it and decide not to fight because he isn't a worthy enough leader..."
James beamed and clasped his hands together.
"You'd better be happy because you found my form."
"I'm a grandfather!" He announced.
The room fell silent.
"I'm a grandfather!" James stood and held out his arms. "I'm a grandfather!"
"Fabulous," Ahpuch deadpanned. "That does not bring me any closer to having the cars I need for the reckless drivers."
James frowned. "You know, you're a real killjoy."
"And you're a terrible employee."
"Did I hear someone talking about a grandson?" An angel stepped out from a steel door behind James.
"Yes," James was a blinding yellow. "I'm a grandfather!"
"How would you know that?" The angel asked.
"I got my grandson's A1 form right here!"
"Which means you need to refile it in the proper place," the angel noted.
"Oh no! He is giving me my cars first!" Ahpuch argued.
"This form is urgent."
"My cars are urgent."
James held his head and moaned.
The demon and angel glared at James. In unison, they shouted, "Why aren't you working?"
James stood to refile the form, still clinging to the joy he felt at the thought of having a grandson.
AN: I know, another ending footnote. Ahpuch is the Mayan god of death, the underworld, and interestingly enough, childbirth. He wasn't a kind god by any means, but it's interesting he was in charge of beginnings and endings.