Saturday, 6/18/2005

"Dad! Dad! Wake up already!"

"Nnnggh?"

Hermione giggled into Harry's chest. He blinked blearily, wincing at the bright morning light streaming into the bedroom. Harry felt his wife roll off of his torso and give him a hard shove.

"Daddy see! Rosie and I gots the gardening! See!"

He felt a small hand shove something damp and earthy into his face. Harry's eyes fluttered open to meet two identical pairs of emerald eyes mere inches from his own. The effect was disconcerting to say the least, especially as he was still half-asleep and lacked his glasses. Before he could process what was going on, he felt another firm shove from behind him.

"Harry, your children require attention." He could practically hear Hermione's smirk from behind him.

"Your children too," he whined, hoping beyond hope to snatch a few more minutes of sleep.

Hermione turned to face the twins with an evil grin. "Girls, who do you want for breakfast today? Mummy, or Daddy?"

The twins turned to each other to silently deliberate, before turning back to give the obvious answer.

"DADDY!" they shrieked, in perfect unison. Teddy also jumped in, his excitement visibly mounting.

"Dad, we have to get going! Uncle Ron said they'll be starting drills at 1, if we factor in 20 minutes of travel time and then another 10 minutes to set up our omnioculars, and a 2-hour lunchtime at the Burrow, that means…"

"Definitely your kids," Harry grumbled, "doing maths at this ungodly hour." Hermione merely giggled and hid under the covers.

After getting one last grumble in, Harry surrendered the blankets to his wife and admitted defeat. He ungracefully rolled out of bed before getting up to stretch widely and blink away the last vestiges of tiredness. With a practiced ease, he turned to scoop up a 4 year-old daughter in each arm.

"Okay kids, I'll get started on breakfast. But just answer me one small thing."

He paused to give each of the girls a moment to stifle their giggles, before they each nodded gravely.

"Be honest with me now. Which one of you is Rosalind, and which one is Miranda?"

The one on his right arm giggled and shook her head vigorously, flopping her brown curls onto her face.

"Not telling! You gots to guess!"

This one's Miri, then.

"Hmm...well if I can't tell which is which, how am I supposed to feed you properly? I guess I'll just have to go back to sleep." Harry sighed dramatically, casting his eyes downward.

"Daddy no! Just guess!" Rosie protested from his left.

"Hmm…" Harry scrunched his eyes thoughtfully, turning to the daughter on his right, then on his left. He fixed each of them with a careful look, as if he was inspecting a suspicious package in the mail.

"Is your name...Susie?"

"No!"

"Right, right, that's not it. Janie?"

"No!"

"Ah, of course. You must be Katie."

"NO!" the twins shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles. Miri shot Rosie a triumphant look, sure that they would win Daddy's little game today.

"Well, could you give me a hint then? What's your favorite color?"

"It's-" Rosie began, but Miri cut her sister off. "No telling!"

"Same trick won't work twice," Hermione added from under the covers.

"I thought you were sleeping?"

"I am now!" Hermione cocooned herself further in the blankets and rolled over with an exaggerated huff. Teddy and the girls laughed at their mother's antics.

Harry chuckled along, allowing Teddy to drag him out to the kitchen. He plopped his daughters onto the counter, casting a quick sticking charm before turning to grab a package of toast from his son.

"Alright then Teddy, what's the schedule for today?"

"Well, it is only 7:30 so it's not really a big rush. I just wanted to get the day going because it's like you say, with girls you always need some leeway on timing. So, I was thinking we should get there at 12:30 at the latest, which means we need to leave the Burrow at 12 because I know Nana Molly takes forever to say bye to everyone. And Aunt Ginny said..."

Harry nodded and mmm-ed in agreement at the appropriate moments, content to bask in Teddy's excitement for the upcoming Quidditch match. He busied himself with pancake batter while watching the girls out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione strolled into the kitchen during Teddy's monologue, pausing to ruffle his hair and drop a sleepy kiss on his forehead. The boy continued his speech uninterrupted, discussing the merits of various viewing angles from the team box and speculating about the Holyhead Harpies' chances against Brixton. She moved to the counter to kiss the girls good morning, where they had piled big clumps of leaves and petals together in some strange artistic arrangement. Finally, she snuck up to her husband at the stove, kissing him full on the lips, morning breath and all.

"Love you, Harry."

"Love you more."

"Not possible."

"Yes possible."

"Stubborn git."

She stole another kiss before moving to brew a pot of tea. Harry handed fresh berries to the girls to sprinkle into the pancake batter (they were at that age where they needed to "help" with everything), while Teddy ran off to test his omnioculars. Together the couple made quick work of breakfast, setting out pancakes, fresh fruit, toast, and eggs.

At some point the girls had slipped away to head to the garden, no doubt intent on tearing through the flowerbeds again. Harry set the last of the plates on the kitchen table, watching them play through the glass sliding door.

Hermione slipped under his right arm, wordlessly handing him their shared mug of tea as she tucked her head into his shoulder. Harry savored the first sip, pulling her closer. Of all of their little habits and rituals, this was still one of his favorites.

Teddy joined his sisters in the backyard, brandishing a practice Quaffle while talking at a mile a minute. The girls quickly abandoned their quest to ruin the plants, joining their brother in an impromptu game of catch.

"You know," Harry began, gesturing at their shared mug of tea, "the first time we did this, at Hogwarts...I think that's when I started to believe it. That you might love me back."

Hermione laughed brightly at the stupidity of her husband. "That was when you figured it out? Not when I faced down a cerberus with you? Or researched a basilisk? Turned back time and rode a Hipogriff?"

"I didn't know those things were for me, love. I thought that was just you being you. You would've done them regardless."

"Well...maybe. But you were a big factor. It made it a lot easier to justify taking risks when it was for you."

"I'm a lucky man."

"And don't you forget it!"

Harry chuckled and stole back the tea as they lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching their children play in the garden.

"So, when did you know?" Harry asked after a few minutes.

"I don't know...it wasn't like a switch went off. It was more of a gradual thing. I guess, in some way, I knew all along. Deep down, I think I always imagined ending up with you. I never thought that way about anyone else."

"Me too."

"Oh, pish posh Harry Potter! You had half the witches in Hogwarts after you!"

"Really, love. I knew it for sure by fourth year. It's just like you said - I never thought it would be anyone else."

"Fourth year? Really?"

"Really," he nodded. "I would...picture us, in the future."

"Picture us how?"

At this, he set their tea down and turned to pull her into a sound kiss. When they broke apart they were both grinning like fools. Hermione's eyes were bright and expectant in the soft morning light.

"Tell me," she asked in a breathy whisper. "What did the picture look like?"

Harry pulled her closer. Over his wife's shoulder he saw the living room, scattered with the kids' toys and walled with Hermione's floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Pictures of their family lined the mantle above the hearth, along with a tall glass vase containing a dozen semper fideles flowers. They were the very same ones Harry had proposed with, still fresh and fragrant all these years later.

To his right he saw another vase on the kitchen table, this one filled with this week's flowers. Vita pulcherrima, because Hermione remained the most beautiful thing in his life. He recalled the night he had first gotten those flowers for her. It was the first time he had told Hermione he loved her. Since then he had repeated it a million times, but it still sent a little thrill through his heart when she said she loved him back. She loved him, just plaid old Harry, and it was so perfect and unreal that he could scarcely believe it after all these years.

Past the vase, Harry saw the kids playing in the garden, racing towards the swingset under the old oak tree. Their laughter carried in the breeze. They sounded just as children should: innocent, unburdened, and full of life. He and Hermione had given them everything, just as they deserved. It was worth it to hear their joy. The sound was music to his ears.

Finally, he turned to face the woman in his arms.

Hermione, who had been with him through all his struggles. Hermione, who had been his other half for more than half his life. It still took his breath when she said that she loved him. This beautiful angel loved him, truly loved him, despite all of his flaws and imperfections. How could it be? How could he be so lucky?

How had he pictured it, in those idle fantasies before his love had come true? It had been so long since reality had surpassed even his wildest dreams. Harry remembered imagining the cottage, and marriage, and smiling children with names as beautiful as hers. He remembered wishing for weekend trips to her parents' and the Burrow, because his family would be hers and hers would be his. And he remembered picturing a vase on the kitchen table, marking his promise that he would keep giving Hermione flowers for the rest of his life.

"It looked just like this."

…

The End.