A/N: Thank you so much to my Beta, lozipozivanillabean.
And holy smokes, I woke up to 900 reviews! I'm really overwhelmed with the amount of attention this fic is getting, especially because this is a very rare ship. I honestly wasn't expecting a lot of readers when I wrote this to ease my frustrated, Jamione heart ahaha. But thank you! Enjoy!
xxxxx.
the world is brighter than the sun now that you are here
(Light by Sleeping at Last)
July 31, 1980
"James, please, just sit down."
He rapidly blinked and stared at his mother with wide eyes, before allowing Sirius to yank him down the couch. He warily gazed at the crowd crammed inside his living room, all quite preoccupied with what was happening in their bedroom. Even Sirius's comforting pats on his back didn't help nor Remus's bar of chocolate to keep his sanity intact. Peter seemed just as bad as James was, nervously wringing his hands in trepidation while Anya tried her very best to calm her first born.
Lily was as pale as the moonlight, looking like she'd pass out soon, and if it weren't for Sev's strong hold on her, James didn't doubt she'd be a heaped mess on the floor. Regulus Black, the strangest visitor in his home, had a blank look on his face but James knew from the way he held himself ramrod straight and with tense shoulders that the Black heir was every bit as worried as everybody else in this room for Hermione.
Hermione.
The thought of his wife once more made his breath hitch. Try as he might, even when he strained his ears, he couldn't hear any sound from their bedroom. Mary had strictly barred them from coming inside while she assisted his heir's birth, erecting various Silencing Charms to ease their worries. The Healer earnestly promised she'd remove the spell as soon as the craziness of it all had finally ended. But the thing was, James wanted to hear something, Hermione's exclamations of pain—even expletives, honestly—just so he knew that everything was all right.
His nervousness was too palpable for him to sit still. He shrugged off Sirius's tight hold on his arm and shot back onto his feet, starting his pacing again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw how Euphemia wanted to tell him off but Fleamont had placed a hand on her arm, a small smile on his face.
"What's taking so bloody long?" Peter whined. "Hermione's been in labour for three hours already!"
James thickly swallowed, numerous worst-case scenarios swirling in his mind. Pregnancy still flummoxed him deeply; he'd tried to read a few pregnancy books just so he could understand what Hermione was going through. He even invited the blokes to pour over one particular, ridiculous book, but they'd ended up too flabbergasted at the mechanics of labour and had ended up throwing the horrifying book away. Hermione had constantly assured him that although this pregnancy made a great many weird changes in her body, her anatomy was designed to handle such a stressful event.
He reverently went with Hermione during her check-ups at St. Mungo's. He shamelessly burst into tears when the Healer conjured an image over Hermione's abdomen, showing their little boy floating inside Hermione's uterus. He'd asked incessant questions, about the possible risks of her pregnancy, and although the Healer constantly reassured him that Hermione and the baby were healthy, James still couldn't stop himself from worrying.
And now… now holy shite. When Hermione announced earlier that day she was experiencing strong, regular contractions, James went into blind, sheer panic. They'd both agreed Hermione would give birth at home, and so, James had made a series of firecalls, even blasted his Patronuses just to gather everybody important in their lives together and support him while he waited for their baby's birth.
"I need to get away from here," he finally declared, steeling himself to a firm halt. He wasn't sure how he looked right now, but he could hazard from the deep concern on the others' faces that he looked like shite. "If I stay here a minute more without a bloody fucking clue as to what is happening to my wife, I'm going to lose my mind."
"We'll send you a Patronus, mate," Sirius reassured.
James stiffly nodded his head and tore through the huge expanse of their living room. He wanted to get out as fast as he could just to calm his nerves, but when a loud cry of a newborn reverberated off the walls of his house, he faltered.
"Was that—"
The crying was wild and incessant and without much thinking, James was scrambling upstairs. He was out-of-breath when he skidded in front of their bedroom. But before he could yank the door open, it opened itself. Mary slipped out and closed the door behind her. James paled at the blood stains on her lime green robes, which wasn't left unnoticed by the Healer.
"Sorry," she whispered, removing any stains on her robes with a swish of her wand. Behind James, the others had already clambered up, excitedly waiting for the news.
"Well?" James impatiently asked.
Happy tears suddenly welled in Mary's eyes as she broke into a huge grin. "Oh, oh, congratulations, James!" she gushed out. "He's lovely and… and he got your chin and nose but his eyes…" A few tears slipped down her cheeks, her beam widening. "He has his mother's eyes."
"And Hermione?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Oh, Hermione's fine," she reassured, haphazardly wiping her tears away. "She was so strong and very brave too! She's a little tired but… but oh, why am I keeping you all from going inside?"
James didn't waste a moment and tried to dart past the Healer, but Mary suddenly placed a hand on his arm to stop him. "Hold on," she said. "Give me a few seconds. Labour is a bloody business and I don't want anyone of you to faint from the sight of its aftermath."
She disappeared inside and James heard a litany of spells. Just when he'd almost cracked from impatience, Mary pushed the door wider and ushered them inside. "Come on. Come in!"
His eyes immediately landed on Hermione. His wife was propped against the headboard of their bed, marvellously tired judging from the beads of sweat on her forehead and her pale skin. Hermione's blue eyes met his as soon as he stepped inside. Her eyes were glistening with tears and despite how exhausted she looked, the smile on her face was wide and blinding.
"Hi," he croaked out.
A tear slid down from Hermione's eyes. "Hi," she whispered in return. She then shifted her arms and that was when James noticed the small bundle hugged against her chest. She met his eyes once more and added, "Meet your son, love."
He was beside her instantly, bending down so that he could peer at the babe in her arms. The baby was impossibly wrinkly and red, with a few tufts of black, messy hair peeking out of the white blanket wrapped around him.
"He's so… he's so small," he softly said. He lifted a finger and brushed it against the baby's cheek. This prompted his eyes to slowly open and James huffed out a laugh, tears also welling in his eyes. He beamed brightly at Hermione and added, "He has your eyes."
"Do you want to hold him?" she asked.
His face turned splotchy red. "I-I don't know how to hold a baby," he confessed.
"It'll be all right," she reassured. "Just make sure to support his head and try not to jostle him too much. It has been a tiring day for him too."
James immediately cradled his arms against his chest as Hermione transferred their baby into his arms. His arms stuck out at an odd angle, unwilling to move to a more comfortable position in fear of letting him go.
"You're doing great," Hermione said, lifting her hand to brush the wisps of dark hair from the baby's forehead.
The bespectacled wizard stared down at the baby's wide, blue eyes, disbelieving that a few minutes ago, he was inside Hermione's womb. "Hi," he breathed out, grinning widely when a tiny yawn broke out from his mouth.
"Let me hold the baby too!" Peter exclaimed, rushing forward to steal him away from James's arms. Before James could protest, Peter was now cooing loudly at the baby while Mary stood beside him, unabashedly crying over the wide-eyed baby.
He was then passed onto both Sirius and Remus, the former pulling various funny faces while the werewolf awkwardly held the baby against his chest, a disbelieving smile on his scarred face. Regulus looked comically amused and flummoxed at the infant in Remus's arms. He was then passed to Anya, who also had tears in her eyes as she shifted the babe in her arms. Hermione's mother carried the baby effortlessly, cooing soft, loving words to the blue-eyed infant while letting him grasp her finger with his whole hand. James's parents also admired their grandson, Fleamont laughingly pointing out that the infamous Potter hair had not disappointed once more. The baby was lastly passed onto Lily and her husband. It was laughable how the couple chose to spend their first wedding anniversary with them, but Hermione's labour was just as important as their wedding. Of course they'd choose their best friend in a heartbeat.
Lily's emerald eyes were twinkling brightly with happiness and tears, and from where James stood, he could see the fondness in Severus Snape's eyes, no doubt imagining a future where the baby Lily was holding was their own.
"What are you going to name him?" Lily asked, glancing at the couple with a small smile on her face.
"Harry," Hermione blurted out before James could give a suggestion. "Harry James Potter."
The bespectacled wizard thickly swallowed and looked down at Hermione. "Are you sure?" he asked.
More tears tumbled down from Hermione's eyes, but there was complete sureness in them. "I knew the moment I found out I was pregnant that it was him," she softly confessed. "It's… I don't know how to explain it. But… but it's him. It's Harry. I felt it in my heart."
James tore his gaze away from Hermione when Lily placed the babe back in his arms. He briefly met Lily's eyes and smiled his thanks. It was still weird for him that in Hermione's future, he was not only dead but married to Lily Evans. Admittedly, there was one time when he'd dreamt about marrying the fiery redhead. Now, the idea of being married to her felt as preposterous as Hermione's past.
His attention was brought back to his son when he started to release loud wails once more. James's eyes widened in panic, glancing at Hermione who merely laughed. Wordlessly, she grabbed Harry back and cradled him against her chest.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione whispered, shushing his tears until he was silent and slowly slipping back into sleep. "Welcome back."
-ooo-
Later that night, as the visitors bid their goodbye, James found himself at a loss of what to do.
Euphemia had given him a crash-course in changing nappies, burping the baby after being breastfed, giving the baby a bath, and other basic necessities to take care of a newborn baby. Anya had supplemented some helpful tips, cheekily pointing out that she'd raised two, rowdy children mostly on her own and she didn't doubt that her grandson would also be a handful.
But despite their helpful pieces of advice, James felt overwhelmed. What if he was a terrible father? What if he accidentally hurt Harry? What if he did something wrong and—Merlin forbid—Hermione finally decided she didn't want him around their son?
Everything was bloody new to him. He never thought in his whole life he'd be a father at twenty, vowing to become a well-established Auror first before even thinking about having a family. Despite all the pregnancy books he'd reverently read before Harry's birth, James still felt marvellously useless.
"What are you doing just standing there?" Hermione's amused voice carried through their bedroom, snapping James out of his inner breakdown.
He sheepishly met his wife's twinkling eyes. "Err… Do you need anything?" he hastily asked. "Do you need help with Harry? Does he need a change his nappy? How about burping? Did he burp yet? Or—"
He swallowed down his words when Hermione burst into soft chuckles. His face turned red as his eyes narrowed into a light glare. "Come closer, James," she beckoned, her smile unfaltering.
James sighed and slowly approached Hermione. Nestled against her chest was a sleeping Harry, with one of his fists clutched tightly around Hermione's curls.
He found himself dumbfounded for the umpteenth time that day, wondering how in Merlin's name he'd been able to make someone so tiny and breathing and real. His heart swelled with silly, sappy feelings, finding it ridiculous how he could already feel so many things when he'd only just met Harry today.
But looking at his sleeping son already evoked these lovely emotions that he'd never felt before. True, there was still the fear of fucking up, but Harry's face soothed whatever worry he had.
"I still can't believe he grew inside you," he blurted out, wide-eyed as he glanced back at Hermione. "It's almost like… almost like—"
"—magic?" she cheekily offered.
James snorted and plopped down on the bed beside her. "Yeah, something like that." Hermione grinned at him and went back to look at their baby. The corners of his lips twitched into a small smile, noting that Hermione's gaze also held the same sappy feelings that were currently residing in his heart. "How are you, Whiskers?"
"A bit sore," she admitted, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Mary left me a lot of Pain Potion to ease the pain, but it wears off easily."
"Do you need more?" he hurriedly asked, worry in his voice.
She lightly shook her head. "I'm fine," she reassured. "I think I just need to rest for a bit."
"Go to sleep," he instantly said. A wry smile appeared on his face, remembering all the tips his parents and Anya had told him prior to their departure. "One thing Mum told me was to sleep as much as we could because Harry will keep us awake most of the time."
As if on cue, Harry stirred in Hermione's arms and released a few whimpers. His tiny mouth stretched open as he emitted loud wails that rang in James's ear.
"Does he need a change of nappy?" he asked again, a tad panicky. "Burping? Is he uncomfortable? Does he—"
Hermione placed a comforting hand on his arm to stop his panicked tirade. "He's just hungry, love," she said.
"How'd you know that?" James asked with wide eyes.
The brunette merely shrugged and tugged her sleeve down past her shoulder until she'd exposed one of her nipples. She gently nudged his small mouth towards her nipple and soon enough, Harry's cries had quietened, softly suckling milk from his mother.
"See," she said, an amused glint in her eyes when she noticed James's heightened surprise.
"I feel so useless," James groaned. "Why are you so good at this, Hermione? And Harry was only born hours ago!"
Hermione snorted, shifting the babe in her arms to find a more comfortable position. Comically, she placed a hand against Harry's ear and glanced at her husband with wide eyes. "I'm scared shiteless, James," she confessed. She chuckled and brushed some wisps of hair from Harry's forehead. "I'm scared that I'm going to botch all this motherhood thing up. I devoured as many pregnancy books as I could prior to Harry's birth but I still feel like I'm going to do something wrong."
"Doesn't seem like that to me," James grumbled.
She fondly smiled at him. "I'm just letting my instincts take over," she continued. "I knew Harry was hungry because he kept on putting his fist inside his mouth. He'd already done it twice today and breastfeeding him always did the trick."
Her eyes were soft as she gazed at Harry and James felt the silly, sappy feelings in his heart increasing tenfold. He felt like his heart was swelling too much with overwhelming emotions and he was afraid it would just burst out of his chest.
Hermione caught his hazel eyes, prompting her smile to slightly falter. "What?" she asked.
"You're very pretty. Do you know that?" he whispered, ducking his head closer to peer at her face above the rim of his glasses.
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. "I'm feeling anything but," she sighed. "My lower back is killing me. My breasts are in pain. I'm so tired. So, I don't really understand how you can say that."
"You are," he insisted. Hermione had this certain glow today, and despite the dim lights in their bedroom, she was as bright as the sun on a clear, blue day. James reached forward a tucked an errant curl behind her ear, a huge smile now blossoming on his face. "Very, very pretty."
Hermione gave him a shy smile in return, prompting him to duck more closely to press a soft kiss against her lips.
Harry by then, had unlatched from her breast and was once again sleeping quietly. Hermione tugged her sleeve up until she covered her breast. "Can you pull the bassinet closer?" she asked.
James wordlessly nodded and did as he was told. Hermione shifted on the bed to properly place her slumbering baby inside the bassinet. The new parents held their breath for a few seconds, afraid that Harry would start crying again. But when the baby continued to sleep, they expelled a sigh of relief and grinned at each other.
"You should get some sleep," James urged. "I'll try to watch over Harry for a few more hours before I sleep myself."
Hermione nodded and laid back on the bed. James tugged the duvet up to her chin and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"James?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry I didn't give you a Stella."
James sputtered out a laugh and glanced down at his wife. "Hermione, Harry's perfect," he breathlessly exclaimed, bringing out a small smile from Hermione. "There's still plenty of time to make a Stella in the future."
Her eyes glistened, her smile turning sad. For a moment, fear gripped his heart, remembering what his fate was when his wife was Lily Evans and Hermione was still a Granger. But the fear was easily shaken away when his hazel eyes swept over Harry, and then over Hermione. If he had to fight tooth and nail to continue living just so he could give a better future to his son, then so be it.
"There's still plenty of time," he firmly repeated. He pressed a kiss against Hermione's lips to remove that sad smile from her face. "I will make sure of it."
August 3, 1980
He was the last one to arrive, spying his friends casually leaning against the wall of the castle, waiting for him. "I'm so sorry," he sighed, tiredly rubbing his eyes once he'd reached them.
"Blimey, Prongs, you look like shite," Sirius quipped, his silver eyes twinkling with amusement.
The bespectacled wizard scowled and lightly shoved his shoulder. "Thanks, Sirius," he grumbled, glaring at his snickering best friend. A huge yawn tore away from his mouth, followed by a long-suffering sigh. "I'm so bloody tired." He closed his eyes and blindly wrapped his arm around an amused Remus. "Carry me to Dumbledore's Office, Moony?"
The werewolf snorted and shrugged James off his shoulders. "When was the last time you slept?" he asked.
"I don't know," James truthfully answered. "I swear I just closed my eyes for a few seconds, but then Harry's cries disturbed my sleep. The cycle just bloody continues. Who knew fatherhood was as bad as Auror training?"
"Hermione's well, though?" Peter worriedly asked.
Despite his exhaustion, James managed to crack a small smile. "She's better," he reassured. "She's at the Potter Manor right now with my parents and Anya. I know she wants to be with us today to destroy another horcrux, but I think she's still reluctant to leave Harry behind."
"And you? How are you?"
He glanced at Peter, surprise evident in his eyes. "Besides being tired to the bone, I've never been better, Wormy," he said, a teasing grin blooming on his face. "Good to know that you're worried about me too, dearest brother-in-law."
Peter, however, looked grim and unamused. "Honestly, James," he softly urged. "You know, with the prophecy and all…"
His smile faltered and the fear he'd pushed aside for the past few days resurfaced back once more. With Harry's birth, James had a decent excuse not to let his mind wander away. He focused all of his attention on taking care of Hermione and Harry, so he didn't really have any time to properly process anything outside their home.
"Way to ruin the mood, Peter," he snarled with a frown.
Peter sighed. "James," he firmly said. "It's fine. I feel the same way too."
The bespectacled wizard thickly swallowed and refused to meet his best friends' worried gazes. He hadn't told them yet that in Hermione's previous life, he was dead at twenty-one years old. But somehow, a part of him knew that they'd already suspected that, especially with how Hermione had reacted when Dumbledore revealed the prophecy.
"I'm fine," he firmly lied.
"No, you're not," Sirius bluntly pointed out. "Like I said, you look like shite, James. I doubt it's only because of newly entered fatherhood."
James took a long-suffering sigh and warily glared at his best friends. "Please, can we just drop this today?" he begged. "I'm tired as hell and I just want to go back home to my family."
Blessedly, Remus wordlessly grabbed his arm and led the whole group towards Dumbledore's Office. Their journey had grown silent, all of them too preoccupied by a possible future they wanted to avoid as much as possible.
It didn't take long for them to arrive at Dumbledore's Office. James was surprised that he and his friends were the only ones present. The Snapes, and sometimes Regulus, made it a point to be present during the destruction of a horcrux. Perhaps, they too were swamped with other things.
"I trust Hermione and Harry are well," was Dumbledore's greeting. Mind still muddled with the conversation he'd had with his friends, James merely nodded his head. The Headmaster's smile faltered at the tense silence amongst them, but thankfully didn't probe.
The older wizard opened his drawer and pulled out a familiar box. He waved his wand in continuous complicated patterns, until the box clicked open, revealing Salazar Slytherin's locket. From beside him, he heard Peter's breath hitch, no doubt also remembering that fateful night in his bedroom back at the Potter Manor.
"Any volunteers?"
"I'll do it," Sirius firmly claimed, marching a few steps forward. James smiled sadly at the shaggy-haired wizard, having already predicting that Sirius would be the one to volunteer to destroy this horcrux.
Remus wordlessly gave him the pouch containing the basilisk fangs.
Sirius's grey eyes glinted menacingly, like a vicious storm over troubled seas. He dug his hand inside the pouch and pulled out a fang. By the time he was in front of the ominous locket, Sirius was breathing heavily. "This is for my brother, you bastard," he loudly proclaimed. With a mighty thrust, he pierced the venom-laced fang through the locket. It broke in the middle and the familiar Dark Mark-shaped smoke billowed out. James still found himself terribly disturbed at the sight, unconsciously taking a few steps back when a piercing cry filled Dumbledore's office.
As soon as the smoke and scream disappeared, Sirius shoved back the fang inside the pouch and harshly swiped a hand against his face. Sirius stiffly walked back to his friends, none of them pointing out the tears in his eyes. James, however, reached toward to grip his arm in comfort, knowing full well it was something his best friend would have needed.
"Well then," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Only one more to go."
His declaration brought out small smiles on the Marauders' faces. Dumbledore then dismissed them, wishing them a lovely day as they strode out of his office.
"Fancy a drink at the Leaky?" Sirius suggested, now marginally calmer after the destruction of the horcrux.
"Can't," Peter hastily said. "I'm having lunch with Mary."
"I can't either," James said with a sigh. "I don't think I'll even be able to take a sip, judging from how knackered I feel."
Sirius turned his pleading eyes towards Remus, who snorted and shook his head. "I have to finish some reports for the Order," he excused. "And, draft a letter for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the next school-year."
"Already?" James asked with wide eyes.
Remus sheepishly smiled and shrugged. "Dumbledore reckoned it would be the right time to appoint me," he explained.
"The position's still bloody cursed," Sirius insisted. "You won't last more than a year, Moony."
"I know that," the werewolf answered with a sigh. "But with the horcruxes almost destroyed… I think it's time to start planning for my own future."
"Voldemort isn't dead yet," Peter pointed out, his expression grim.
"He will be," James vehemently declared. "He will soon be. I'm sure of it."
The sandy-haired wizard gave him a small, empty smile, his expression already speaking volumes of how much he feared for a future that was still so bloody uncertain.
James thickly swallowed and tried to desperately change the subject. "Hermione and I have already decided on who is going to be Harry's godparent," he blurted out.
"Yeah?" Sirius asked, a huge smile breaking on his face.
The bespectacled wizard gave his excited best friend an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Pads," he hurriedly whispered.
The smile on Sirius's face fell, but there was silent resignation in his grey eyes. "I knew I wouldn't be picked, to be honest," he confessed with a chuckle. "It doesn't matter just as long as you promise to make me the godfather of your next child, Prongsie mate, then we're all good."
"Who'd you pick then?" Remus curiously asked.
"Surely not Lily, though," Sirius quipped, a frown now marring his face. "I'm going to go ballistic if you picked Lily. I'm going to lose fifty galleons!"
The bespectacled wizard snorted. "You're betting with Evans who we'd picked as Harry's godparent?" he asked incredulously.
Sirius sheepishly smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well, she was adamant Hermione would pick her as godmother," he pointed out. "And I was adamant you'd pick me as Harry's godfather. Of course we're going to bet on who you'd pick."
"No, we didn't pick Lily either," James said, followed by an amused laugh.
"Well, who'd you pick then?" the werewolf repeated.
James's hazel eyes landed on an equally curious Peter. Realising what James's look meant, the shorter wizard's blue eyes widened in shock. "Me?" he gasped in surprise.
James grinned, fully expecting Peter's reaction. "I mean, why not?" he asked with a laugh. "Hermione loves you very much, Peter. And you're my best friend. We both agreed that Harry should have a godfather that would love him endlessly too."
Tears welled in Peter's blue eyes, eyes he shared with his wife and his son. "I'll be honoured," he whispered, shamelessly letting his tears drip down from his eyes.
"Merlin, Wormy, I knew you'd be weepy about this." James burst into boisterous laughter when Peter lightly glared at him. He threw his arms around Peter and grinned. "Hermione and I were both sure you'd take care of him if ever something happened to us."
The amused expressions on the Marauders' faces disappeared, replaced with identical frowns that made his eyes soften in gratitude.
"Nothing's going to happen to either you or Hermione," Peter vehemently claimed, his eyes growing resolute. "I'm going to make sure of it. That slimy, evil bastard has to go through me first."
"And me," Remus firmly added.
"And me," Sirius viciously quipped.
Embarrassingly, James felt his eyes misting at their proclamations. "Come here, you wankers," he boisterously claimed, trying to encircle the other two with his arms just to hide his forming tears.
August 10, 1980
Hermione blinked her wide eyes at the lovely foyer. Although nothing trumped the humongous Potter Foyer, this one was a close second. Her eyes swept over the spacious room at Longbottom Manor, spying various potted plants lining the window sills – Magic and Muggle alike. Hermione would have loved to peruse around more, but a sudden pop tore her gaze away from the room.
Harry stirred in her arms, disturbed by the sound, and Hermione quickly shushed him quiet until the baby was sleeping once more.
"Welcome, Miss," a house-elf, smaller than Pokey, greeted with a small smile on his wrinkly face. He was dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, which looked loose on his thin frame. Nevertheless, this house-elf looked well-groomed; it was undoubted that the Longbottoms also treated their house-elves properly. "Miss must follow Blinky."
She silently nodded her head and shifted Harry into a more comfortable position in her arms. Hermione then trailed behind the small house-elf, her blue eyes roaming around Longbottom Manor as they passed through various corridors. The Manor was smaller than the Potter's, but everything still screamed Pureblood aristocracy. They were, after all, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Hermione was able to peek through one of the doors, eyes widening upon recognising numerous books slotted into huge bookshelves. The library looked lovely, even after a small peek, and Hermione made a mental note of requesting permission to drop by to hang out in the library.
Blinky finally brought her inside a Drawing Room of sorts. Two long couches, one grey and the other dusty rose, were placed in front of a roaring fire. The walls were painted in a handsome pink and there was a glinting lamp hanging overhead. Like the foyer, there were potted plants decorating the room.
"Hello, Hermione."
Her eyes snapped towards the person inside the room, seated on the grey couch. Alice gave her a dimply smile, but Hermione's eyes immediately strayed towards the small bundle in her arms. Her breath almost knocked out of her chest, recognising the tufts of blonde hair and the familiar brown eyes of Neville Longbottom.
"Please. Have a seat," Alice said, her smile growing wider in amusement at Hermione's gawking.
The brunette's cheeks coloured and she immediately sauntered towards the opposite couch. She felt stupidly tongue-tied, eyes once again settling on the blonde babe in Alice's arms. Memories of Neville Longbottom flashed before her mind's eye, until all that was there was his lifeless eyes staring back at her after failing to kill Nagini in the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Are you all right?" Alice's worried voice cut through her tumultuous memories.
Hermione blinked back her tears. "Y-yes," she stuttered, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. "Um… so, why did you ask me to come here today?"
Alice's smile grew bright. "Well, can't I invite over the enigmatic Hermione Potter?" she cheekily asked, followed by a lovely laugh that warmed Hermione's heart. Neville definitely got his smile and warmth from his mother. "I have been curious about you ever since our last horcrux hunt. And, well, now that we both have sons of our own, I think it'd be brilliant if we bond over our ridiculous attempts at being first-time mothers."
In spite of herself, Hermione snorted out a laugh. "This one has been a menace so far," she said, lifting the sleeping Harry slightly. The boy stirred in her arms and cracked his eyes open briefly, before dozing off against his mother's chest once more. "I think James is already losing his mind from the lack of sleep we're getting."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," the older witch said with an apologetic smile. "Neville's been a real angel. Frank's mother had already listed down a lot of instructions on how to properly take care of a child – I mean, she still doesn't trust me with Neville – but so far, Neville has been really sweet and quiet."
Hermione sighed, deeply envious. "I always knew Harry would be a menace," she said, fondly glancing down at the peaceful face of her son. "I still love him to the moon and back even though he refuses to give us a good night's sleep."
As if sensing he was being talked about, Harry cracked his eyes open again and blinked his bright, blue eyes at his mother. Hermione softly smiled and ran a finger along his cheek. Harry stirred and grasped onto her finger with his whole hand, unwilling to let go.
Blinky soon popped back into the Drawing Room, this time with a tray bearing a teapot, cups and scones. Hermione helped herself to some tea, and continued to converse with Alice about all things under the sun. They reminisced about Hogwarts, talked about Auror and Order work, and laughed themselves silly over the ridiculous things their husbands had done. It felt like they were proper friends and Hermione was glad she had someone she could converse with about her fears and anticipation at being a first-time mother.
Alice was terribly sweet, and Hermione sometimes fancied herself into thinking she was back at one of the greenhouses in Hogwarts, raptly listening to one of Neville's excited tirades about the wonderful properties of different plants he'd started to take care of.
The older witch was recounting her recent adventure with a Mimbulus mimbletonia when she suddenly paused. Her brown eyes clouded with worry. "Hermione?" she called. "What's wrong?"
"What?" the brunette echoed, expelling a soft chuckle. "Nothing's wrong."
"You're—" Instead of continuing her words, Alice touched her cheek. Hermione, curious, mirrored her action and was surprised to discover it was wet with her tears.
"Oh," she breathed out, haphazardly wiping away the tears she didn't know had slipped down from her eyes. "Oh. Sorry. I've been a little emotional ever since I got pregnant with Harry. I think my pregnancy hormones still have not gone back to normal."
Alice didn't look convinced by her excuse. Instead, she leant against the couch, her face hardening into a gaunt, worried expression. "Is it because—" She left her words dangling as she took a deep, shuddering breath. When she released a puff of air, a few tears also escaped from her eyes. "The prophecy… my Neville. Will he—"
Hermione's heart clenched in pain, realising this was the real reason Alice had wanted to meet with her today. Admittedly, she had thought this was a possible reason, but Hermione had pushed that thought aside, not wanting to overthink. After all, she didn't know what she'd do if Alice started asking difficult questions. Now, however, no matter how desperate she was to change the topic, the expression on the older witch's face already told her she'd persist until she had the answer to her question.
"You're not from here, are you?"
The brunette thickly swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back her tears once more. "What made you think that?" she croaked, clearing her throat when her voice cracked.
Alice gave her a pointed glance, the smile on her face almost bemused. "Educated guess," she replied with a half-hearted shrug. "That day, when Dumbledore revealed the prophecy… well, you sounded like you knew everything about it from a different time. I just pieced everything together—" She blinked back her tears again and clammed her lips shut.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.
The older witch looked at her in surprise. "For what?" she asked.
"I don't know. I… well… I should have worked harder to prevent the prophecy from being uttered at all," she explained. When Alice's surprise increased, a wry smile appeared on Hermione's face. "I'm… not from here, like what you've concluded. I came from the future, so I knew how everything would have ended if I didn't intervene." She jutted her chin towards the sleeping boy in Alice's arms. "Neville was my classmate in Hogwarts, you know."
"He will be Sorted into Ravenclaw?" Alice gasped.
Hermione laughed. "No. Gryffindor," she corrected. Alice's brown eyes glittered with happiness and pride, and Hermione was compelled to add, "He was one of the bravest people I'd ever known."
Alice's eyes widened at Hermione's words, before her whole face crumpled, terrified tears now tumbling down from her eyes. "Was," she echoed.
"What?"
"You said was," Alice pointed out. "Will he—"
Hermione mentally berated herself, realising her slip. "Well, he is part of my past," she hastily excused. "I think that was just the proper tense." She expelled a soft, nervous laugh, hoping against hope that Alice would buy her stupid, stupid excuse.
Alice still looked inconsolable, now tightly hugging Neville against her chest. The blonde babe squirmed in her arms as he started to emit soft whimpers, which soon morphed into loud wails. Harry flinched in Hermione's arms, surprised by Neville's cries, and looked like he was about to start crying too.
"Hush, now, love," Alice cooed, lightly bouncing Neville in her arms. Harry blessedly stayed silent, so Hermione merely brushed his hair away from his forehead and fondly watched as her baby slept.
Hermione's blue eyes then swept back towards Alice once Neville went back to sleep. Silent tears still slipped down from her eyes, and there was clear fear written all over her face.
She really didn't like telling the possible futures of the people she knew in this timeline, especially when she'd been working very hard to change their bad fates. James already knew how his life would have gone if Hermione Pettigrew hadn't been born, and the devastation on his face still haunted her at night. Lily had also hazarded she hadn't made it through this war, but Hermione had constantly reassured her she'd still be able to make a family with Sev. Regulus knew about his supposed fate because Hermione had no choice but to tell him after they'd almost died. Sirius, Remus, and her brother were starting to get curious but surprisingly had been patient when Hermione had been reluctant to reveal their futures. She was honestly afraid of what Sirius would feel when he found out he'd been left to rot in Azkaban for twelve years before he was able to successfully breakout. What more if they discovered it was because of Peter why their fates had been terrible.
"Do you—" She clammed up and took a deep breath through her nose as Alice slowly looked back at her face. "Do you want to know what will happen to you? To Frank? And Neville?"
Alice blinked her eyes in surprise.
"It's… well, I honestly think it doesn't matter anymore, because I'm going to make sure none of those things will happen at all," Hermione vehemently added. "But, if you're curious, I can… I can try my best. To tell you your futures, that is."
A contemplative look settled on Alice's face, her eyes once again straying back towards the serene face of her child. A small, fond smile grew on her face before she said, "I just want to know one thing." When Alice's eyes flitted back towards her, Hermione braced herself for a difficult question. "Will my Neville be surrounded by many friends?"
Hermione's eyes widened, honestly not expecting such a simple question. She gazed at Alice, trying to see any clue as to why she'd chosen to ask that question above all else. But Alice looked genuinely curious, a tad fearful too of what Hermione's answer would be.
Her eyes slipped closed, memories of a fumbling, clumsy, and brave boy flashing before her mind's eye. She remembered how she had no choice but to petrify him because he stood up against the Golden Trio in their first year. She remembered Neville's firm determination to perfect the Disarming Charm during their fifth year. She remembered his brave face fighting against the Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts. And wherever she looked, she'd see him with a friend, willingly watching his back and defending him from other foes.
"He will," she finally whispered, voice cracking once more as a myriad of emotions overwhelmed her. "He will be surrounded with many, many friends."
Alice expelled a watery chuckle and wiped away her remaining tears. "That's a relief," she sighed. "All I wanted was for my son to grow up happy."
"That's it?" Hermione asked, opening her eyes to look at Alice in surprise. "You have no other questions about your future?"
The Auror gave her a small, sad smile. "You said it yourself – it doesn't matter anymore," she said. "Now that you are here, with a knowledge of a possible future you can actively change. Just… just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do so that I can protect my son – my family."
The determination on her face echoed the determination on the face of a boy she'd once called her friend. This prompted a smile to grow on Hermione's face. "All right," Hermione said. "I can do that."
A/N: I like writing fluffy scenes but what I truly love writing the most is family fluff hahahaha. So yes, there will be plenty of Jamione family fluff in the next chapters.
Also, I'm using a lot of time skips already lmao. I honestly have no idea what the canon chronological order of this timeline up to the Halloween of 1981. I've researched about it (of course), but JKR has a lot of contradicting comments about it it's bloody insane. Ya'll may be more knowledgeable about it than me lmao but um yeah, as the author of this fanfic, I think I have the right for some creative tweaking to suit my plot. I'm legit laughing at myself because of the amount of research I did just to make this monstrosity make at least some sense.
Lastly, I have some bad news. I'm doing some major editing on chapter 55 and the epilogue is only halfway done. As you can see, we're already nearing the end but try as I might, I cannot finish those two chapters. I have video conferences every freaking day. I'm starting to get really nasty headaches and I need a shitload of painkillers and power naps just to ease the pain. Staring at the laptop for more than an hour is becoming a little intolerable for me. You don't have to worry because by next week, things will be more benign. However, I might not be able to adhere to my daily update schedule once I've reached those last two chapters. I'm going to inform you, of course, but you know. Just a head's up hahaha. I hope you understand.
That's it. See you tomorrow!
With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe
P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!