This is being cross-posted from Ao3. It was originally posted on 21 December 2019.

TRIGGER WARNING: MISCARRIAGE!

Huge thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading and helping with the title and aesthetic tips. Any other mistakes are definitely my own... I'll fix them eventually.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was heavily influenced by the Billy Eilish song "when the party's over" so much so that there are a few exact quotes in there. Those belong to the wonderful Billie and not me. No copyright infringement is intended. She's just a far more awesome writer than me. I've marked the quote with an asterisk.

It was three in the morning and Harry wouldn't have opened the door for anyone other than the person who was currently on his doorstep. Hermione had been living in the States for the past ten years, but for some reason, she was suddenly back in London. Half asleep and curiously taken aback, Harry blinked at his best friend in wonderment.

"Hermione?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes behind the glasses he'd hurriedly pushed onto his face. "Is that really you or am I having some rather vivid dream?"

"No," Hermione replied with a sigh, "It's really me. Can I come inside? It's been a really long journey."

Harry was awake now. If Hermione was in trouble, then Harry was here to help. "Sure, come in," he said in a rush, ushering her into 12 Grimmauld Place without a second thought. He ushered her inside and shut the door behind her.

Hermione stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before Harry took the small suitcase she held and set it by the bottom of the staircase. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaky as if with tears.

"Hermione…" Harry didn't quite know where to start. Hermione had left in such a whirlwind of events that he had no idea what to say now. Instead, he took some inspiration from Mrs Weasley. "Uh, do you want some tea? I can put the kettle on."

Not waiting for an answer, Harry led the way through to the kitchen. He heard Hermione following behind and smiled to himself. He had no idea what brought Hermione home, but he was going to do everything possible to keep her from leaving. Tea and a good conversation would hopefully help to get some answers.

"What brought you back to London?" he asked as he got to work making the tea.

Hermione sat down at the table and smoothed her hands across the worn surface. "I was tired of running… Of being on my own. It was time to come home."

Nodding, Harry tried to think of what to say next. He poured the hot water into two mugs and placed them on the table before sitting down too. "Ten years is a long time to stay away."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Hermione said and accepted one of the mugs.

"There's nothing wrong with needing space," Harry explained as he watched Hermione fix her tea. "I just wish you hadn't disappeared the way you did. No one even knew you were gone until it was too late."

"I'm sorry for how I left," Hermione said, staring into her teacup instead of his eyes. "I- There was something I'd kept from you all those years ago, and I just didn't know how to deal with what happened, so I just… I left."

Setting aside his own tea, Harry reached across the table and took Hermione's hand in his. "I've always been your friend, Hermione. You always stood by my side, even when others did not." He cleared his throat, not wanting to bring up Ron right now. "You can tell me anything."

When Hermione lifted her eyes, there were unshed tears glistening there. "We made some mistakes…"

"Nothing with you was ever a mistake," Harry said softly, squeezing her hand.

"He didn't deserve-"

"No," Harry stated, cutting her off before she could get too upset. "But we did it anyway, and besides, he's happy now. None of that matters."

"With Gabrielle Delacour, you mean," Hermione replied, a smile gracing her lips. "They're quite perfect for one another. I'm glad he was able to find love after I left."

"I wish you'd told me you were going to the States," Harry told Hermione and took a sip of tea. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Harry smiled, but it was short-lived. He needed answers, and maybe now he would finally get them. Finding the courage, he decided to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind for the past ten years. "Why did you leave?"

After a sharp intake of breath, Hermione spoke. "Harry," she said now looking him directly in the eyes. "I was pregnant. When I left."

"What happened?" Harry asked, but somehow he felt in his heart he knew already.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "I lost her. On Christmas Eve."

A chill ran down Harry's spine at this news. "Did you ever tell Ron?"

"She had dark hair, Harry," Hermione admitted and then bit her lip. "I'm… I'm so sorry."

"Oh," Harry said, sitting back in his chair. There was a quiet thud as his back collided with the wood and the breath rushed from his lungs. He'd certainly not been expecting that. Speechless yet again, he took a sip of tea to bide some time for himself.

Hermione, however, found her voice much quicker. "I left because I didn't know who the father was. I was embarrassed and devastated with myself. I moved to the States, thinking I could clear my head and figure things out, but I didn't get the chance."

"Why didn't you come back?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet of the kitchen. "Afterward…?"

"After I lost her, I lost myself," she replied, wiping at her eyes. "It was Christmas, and I was alone. I could easily have come running back, but I knew the news would hurt you."

Shaking his head, Harry leaned forward. "It would have hurt me- It does hurt me to know even now, but I care about you, Hermione. I would have been there for you."

"I was a broken mess. I messed up and didn't know how to fix it," Hermione said, a few tears slipping from her eyes.

"I don't care what happened in the past." The words were out of Harry's mouth before he even knew what he was saying. "Stay with me. Be with me, Hermione."

"Don't you know I'm no good for you?" Hermione said, a sob escaping her. "I'll only hurt you, if you let me."

"Look," Harry said, getting up from his chair and coming around to the other side of the table. He knelt down next to Hermione and took her face in his hands. "It's Christmas, and you showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night like a gift. You've always been good, especially for me. Please, stay."

"Harry, I can't-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Hermione," Harry said sternly. He stood and then gently tugged Hermione to her feet. "I love you. Please stay."

Another sob bubbled up Hermione's throat, and she collapsed into Harry's waiting embrace. "Oh, Harry," she sobbed. "I love you too."

For quite some time, the two of them just stood in the middle of the kitchen as Harry held Hermione as she cried all the tears she'd held in these past ten years. It was nearing dawn by the time the two of them finally made their way to bed. Harry tucked Hermione into the left side of the bed before crawling into the other side.

Hermione immediately curled into his side, her head resting on his chest. Softly, Harry brushed the curls from her face and kissed her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Hermione," he said quietly, knowing she was emotionally exhausted and near sleep.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Hermione said as she drifted to sleep.

Feeling himself beginning to succumb to sleep as well, Harry smiled and was thankful for the witch who was fast asleep in his arms. Her arrival was unexpected, to say the least as was the news she brought, but her presence and love was a gift he would cherish this Christmas and for the rest of his life.