Before I start this chapter, go and check out the fantastic story, 'A Happy Accident: 70 Years,' by the wonderful Njchrispatrick. It is where the inspiration for this story came from. If you notice any similarities between the stories, I do have permission to use them.
Just as Gary Armand was about to do what Harry recognised as the 'fan freak-out,' (face gaining a bright red undertone, eyes shining like a maniac, hands shaking with anticipation) the front door opened. The pretty, heart shaped face of Grace Armand peeked out, smiling. The smile soon turned to a frown when she spotted Gary looking like he was going to explode. Harry had never been so happy to see someone before.
"Grace, hi," he said quickly. "Do you mind if I come in?" She smiled at him, clearly hearing the desperation in his voice. No matter how well he knew how to deal with fans, they were still scary when they were obsessed. Gary was beyond obsessed it seemed, which made Harry a little wary of him.
"Of course, Harry. Go on through to the lounge, you can't miss it. It's full of bright banners and presents." Harry gave her a grateful nod and slipped through the door behind her. Gary tried to barge through, but Grace blocked his way. "Gary, I want to talk to you for a minute, okay? Harry, if you could leave us alone."
"Sure." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Thank you." She nodded discreetly at him, then turned back to Gary and began chastising him. At least it seemed someone in the Armand family had the screw nice and tight, rather than loose. The thought was comforting.
The area he was standing in was a small space, with dark, plush carpet and light coloured walls. Already, the photo frames dominated the walls, screaming of family and love. The skylights above him let in a lot of light, giving the house a modern but natural feeling. He began walking down the hallway, examining the photos on the walls with interested eyes. Every single one of them held a picture of Gabriel, from when he was the tiniest toddler to a young boy. In each of them, he was smiling, his dark eyes twinkling with glee. Harry couldn't help but notice that there were no photos of him when he was a baby. That confirmed the theory he had about Gabriel being adopted.
At the end of the hallway, the space opened up into a large, airy room filled with natural lights. Every surface was covered in bright coloured streamers, banners, stickers and various party ornaments. The sense of direction with the decorations was completely nonexistent. It created a strange, charming effect, though. Harry couldn't help but feel happy. If he ever had children, he would want to throw parties like this. Around the corner was the kitchen. Trays upon trays full of delicious looking food were covered with tea towels and glass plates. Everything seemed to be there.
Everything but the children, who were suspiciously missing.
Harry walked over to the table with the gifts on it and placed his own down within them. As he put is down, he heard a tiny whisper, then a hushed, 'shhh!' He whipped around, eyes narrowed. Something strange was going on. Somehow, there were several small children concealed around the room, hidden from his view. He wasn't sure what they were planning. Maybe he should play along...if that was what they wanted. To say Harry was unsure was an understatement. The only experience he had with small children was when they came to Fortescue's. It was quick, they were in and out.
He was totally clueless.
Maybe he should take the horror movie approach? He wasn't sure what little kids were capable of when they put their minds to it. Ah, what the Hell. He would have some fun with it. Why shouldn't he? It did seem like they were waiting for him to do something, what with the constant shushing of voices and little squeaks that sounded throughout the room.
"Hello?" He cautiously walked through the room. "Is anyone there?" No response except a rogue giggle and another urgent shushing. "Hello? I know you're there. Are you going to come out and face me?" For a moment, silence. Nothing by the silence that came before something happened, the silence that made the air heavy with raw anticipation. Harry breathed it in.
Then, a war cry composed of several young voices. Children started pouring out of every nook and cranny, surging towards him. They came out of the cupboards, the doors banging open, from under the couch, slithering out like snakes, one even exploded out from under the beanbag, which went flying towards Harry. They were carrying cardboard shields, swords made out of rolled up newspapers and magazines, pots and pans masquerading as helmets perched on their heads. Clearly, they'd prepared for this moment. A planned ambush. If Harry weren't a currently the victim of said ambush, he would be impressed.
Unfortunately, there were several small children banging at his legs with newspaper swords, all yelling at him.
"Down with the enemy!" cried Gabriel, who emerged at last, from behind the couch. He pointed his sword at Harry. "We will defeat you!" He charged, sword raised, ready for the attack. Harry tried to dodge, but was held in place by several limpets attached to his legs, weighing him down. Gabriel used the sword to strike him in the chest. Harry, now playing along, acted as though he was mortally wounded.
"No! You shall not take me down today! This can't be happening!" Gabriel struck him again with his newspaper sword, this time in the leg. Harry fell down to the ground, laying on his back, looking up at the faces of at least ten children. "I will not fall today!"
"Victory!" crowed Gabriel, reminding Harry of Peter Pan. "We have defeated him!" The other children cheered, almost deafening Harry. Gabriel looked sideways at a small girl with blonde hair, who nodded. Harry gulped. Whatever they were planning now didn't seem to be good.
It wasn't.
To Harry's utter dismay, the children began leaping on top of him, creating a dogpile. The weight didn't really bother Harry. It was more the squirming mass of bodies intent on kicking him in places that weren't meant to be kicked. And it hurt.
"Keep him down!"
All of the little leprechauns of top of him were giggling like mad. Harry couldn't help himself. He began laughing too, which seemed to shock everyone. Not for long, though. They devolved into one large giggling mass of children and adult. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a fun time.
"Alright, what's going on here?"
Everyone froze. Including Harry. He may be nineteen, but that didn't mean he was immune to the reprimands of a teacher. Of course, Grace had to be a teacher. He could tell from her tone alone.
"Nothing, Mum," Gabriel said quickly.
"Well, it doesn't look like nothing. Why don't you get off the young man and let him breathe? You must be suffocating him by now."
Nobody moved.
"I'm fine, really," said Harry, hoping to fix the situation. "It doesn't bother me."
"How can it not bother you? You must be getting crushed. Come on, children, off of Harry. Then you can go and play." They moved off of him so quick Harry had to ask himself whether they were really there in the first place. He pulled himself to his feet and smoothed out his pants.
"I'm fine, really."
"Well, you shouldn't be. Kids, what do you say?"
"Sorry," they all mumbled in unison. Grace couldn't seem to contain her teacher-ness for long, especially on her kid's birthday, so she sighed, placing her head in her hands.
"Off you go." The kids all whooped and began running off, two of them grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him off behind them. For a moment, the more rational side of himself he wondered what on Earth he had gotten himself into and whether it had been a good idea to come. That thought train was swiftly quashed by the more fun loving side of himself, just telling him to let go and have some mindless fun.
And, in that moment, Harry decided that was exactly what he was going to do.
"What do you want, Grace? I'm sick of you acting like you have to guard me." Gary scowled at his sister, while simultaneously looking at the retreating figure of Harry with hungry eyes."We were getting along just fine."
"He was clearly uncomfortable. How could you not see that?" Grace put her hands on her hips."I'm not letting you in until you promise me you're going to respect his boundaries. He is here because Gabriel invited him, not because you're here. I need you to understand that."
"I know how to respect boundaries, Gracie."
"Don't call me that. You lost the right to do that a long time ago."
"Okay! Gees, calm down." Gary gathered himself up. "I know how to respect boundaries. I will respect Harry's boundaries and not ask him too many questions."
"Why don't I believe that?"
"You're acting like you don't want me here." Grace's eyes lit up with a previously hidden fury. She slammed the door behind her and stepped out to face her brother, grasping the collar of his shirt. She was taller than him, and stronger than him.
"Oh, how did you get that idea, hmmm?" She let go of his collar, but stayed staring at him, eyes dark. "The only reason you're here is because Gabriel asked to see you. If I had my way, I would never see you again, never let you see my kid again. You're lucky that I love him so much, Gary."
"I thought you'd forgiven me." Gary smirked as he said it. Grace's hands started shaking from rage.
"I have. That doesn't mean I have to want to see you again." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Now, Harry is here to play with Gabriel and make him happy, not to fuel your obsession. Do. You. Understand. That? I won't let you ruin another life because you think you're doing the 'noble' thing. You've already ruined mine."
"That's up for debate, really."
"Don't you dare try and act like you were in the right," Grace hissed. Her eyes began pricking with unshed tears. "Don't you dare. You have no right. What you did was despicable and deplorable, and I still hate you for it." She closed her eyes again, a single tear leaking out. "Now, you're going to go in there and be civil. If Gabriel asks you to play with him, you will, but I will be watching your every move. If he doesn't, stay the Hell away from my kid."
"You're such a teacher, with all your rules."
Grace looked up to the sky. "Listen to me. Those rules apply to Harry, too. Don't follow him around and don't bother him." Gary almost pouted, but sighed in resignation.
"I guess I'll have to watch from afar."
"And that is what you're going to do." Grace nodded firmly. The sound of yelling children reached their ears. "One last thing."
"Yes?"
"Genevieve is not coming, is she?"
"You told me to keep her away. So I did."
"Good. I don't want her nosy ass up in my house." Gary made to reply, but Grace glared at him. Sullenly, he picked up the wrapped box and walked into the house with Grace, the picture of confidence.
On the inside, though, he was melting with glee.
Somehow, he was going to find a way around Grace's rules and meet this Harry Potter who bore an uncanny resemblance to one Steve Rogers.
Harry was dragged into a large room, which clearly belonged to Gabriel. Inside, the carpet was still the dark colour, but the walls differed drastically from the rest of the house. The walls were painted with a stunning landscape, rolling hills, a large lake and a castle perched over the lake. If Harry didn't know better, he would say it was Hogwarts. The castle differed in several places, though, so it was merely similar. Glow in the dark stars were stuck haphazardly onto the ceiling. The bed was a riot of red, white and blue, opposite a bookshelf stuffed to the brim with comic books and figurines. The collection wasn't intrusive, though. It was actually rather endearing. Harry didn't know what made him so fond of Gabriel, but there was something about him that made him unable to say no.
Toys were scattered across the floor. Harry stepped through them, trying to avoid stepping on any. The group of children around him were chattering excitedly. Clearly, they had something else planned, something he was very in the dark about.
"Do you think he'll do it?" asked a boy with brown hair excitedly.
"I don't know. I hope so."
"Do what?" Harry chuckled. These children amused him to no end. He couldn't help but wonder what they had in store for him next.
"Well," Gabriel said sheepishly, twisting his hands, "I was wondering if you would put this on."
Harry blinked. He didn't see anything to put on. "Um, what do you mean?" Gabriel's face went blank for a second, before recognition dawned.
"I don't have it out, yet! Sorry." He ran over to his chest of drawers and grabbed something inside. Harry heard the rustling of plastic packaging. Gabriel turned around and threw something bright to Harry. He caught it and looked down at the parcel in his hands. A groan escaped him, not that he was able to help it.
In his hands, he held a good quality Captain America costume, minus the shield.
"Please?" Harry glanced up at Gabriel, whose face was the epitome of begging, of blackmail via puppy dog eyes. Immediately, Harry went to war with his own head. He was just coming to terms with the facts of his true parentage. He didn't want to put the costume on and act like someone else. Then again, the child in front of him was absolutely adorable (not that he would ever tell Gabriel that, he could imagine the scowls and protests that would result in). Saying no would mean harry would most likely be eaten up by guilt. So, without thinking about it any further, Harry said:
"Sure."
"Yay!" All of the children in the room smiled at him, genuine little smiles with full of gaps and crookedness. It made Harry feel something strange; it was like he was being heated from the inside. Not in a bad way. Quite the opposite, in fact. The warmth was gentle, kind, a pleasant feeling which made him want to make the gaggle of children even more happy. The feeling wasn't unwelcome.
"I'll just go change in the bathroom. Where is it?"
"Second door on the left," Gabriel gabbled eagerly. "Please be quick."
"I won't be long, okay?" Harry resisted the urge to ruffle Gabriel's hair. He didn't know what was getting into him today. First, he decided to dress up as his very famous biological father, and then he almost ruffled the hair of a child he barely knew. Odd things were going on, and he wasn't sure if he liked them or not. Perhaps he should just let time take its course and see what would happen on the way. Going with the flow never hurt anybody, and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt him. The awful Potter luck would probably jump in at some point and turn the entire situation awry, but until then Harry decided he was going to enjoy things the way they were, maybe even making them better along the way.
Who knew?
After a bit of looking (all the doors were the same!) Harry managed to find the bathroom, where he could change in privacy. Because of Quidditch, he wasn't normally so squeamish about changing in front of people. When those people were little, hyperactive kids of a sugar rush, he would rather be in a place where they couldn't giggle at him for something he had never even noticed before.
The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as he wrangled with it. How hard was it to get a simple package open? Apparently, according to the one he was wrestling with now, it was very difficult.
All of a sudden, the plastic tore. The costume exploded out of it, landing haphazardly on the pristine vanity. Harry had to squint because it was so bright at first.
For a few minutes, he just stood there, staring at the tangled mess of over-saturated fabric, trying to come to terms with what he was doing. Some people would call it silly, hesitating to put a simple costume on for a party. They would say he was stupid, considering putting the costume on a big step towards coming to terms with what his life was now. Harry blocked the voices out, instead taking a few tentative steps towards it and picking it up.
Well, from what he could gather, it was going to need some pretty serious extension charms. Great, just great. Of course he would need to (non-verbally) perform the one spell that he was absolutely rubbish at. In a short time period. Hopping around and squeezing into the tight costume, Harry's thoughts were confirmed. With a groan, he extracted his new Maple wood wand out of the holster and crossed his fingers that the spells would go correctly. If not, there wasn't really any way he could reverse them, at least not any way that he knew of, and would have to walk out wearing a mangled mess of fabric. Oh, well. There were worse things he could think of, such as Malfoy becoming interested in a job at Fortescue's. The mere though of it, not that it would ever happen, made him shiver slightly.
"Fabricae Maior," he said in his head. The end of his wand, pointed at the costume stretched to breaking point over his body, flashed a bright white. Silver wisps of light began seeping out, creeping over the surface of the fabric, altering it so that Harry could actually breathe. When he felt it loosening, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he'd done that part right, and not shrunk it, like that other time that he didn't ever speak of for fear of embarrassing himself again. Just thinking of that particular incident made him flush a brilliant shade of scarlet.
Harry glanced at himself in the mirror and did a double take. The man who was staring back looked exactly like the photos of Steve Rogers. Harry swallowed the sudden knot that appeared in his throat and chastised himself, in a voice that sounded strangely like Hermione. He could do this. It was just a costume. This didn't define who he was, what he was going to do or how he could live. It was just a costume. Just because he was wearing it didn't mean he was Steve Rogers, didn't mean he had to be like Steve Rogers. It meant that he was doing something lovely for a kid on his birthday, something that would make Gabriel happy.
Taking a deep breath, Harry strapped the helmet emblazoned with a large white 'A' onto his head and stared at his reflection once more. There was no denying the resemblance now. Even with some of his mother's features mixed in and the strawberry blond tone of his hair, Steve Roger's features were overwhelming in how much Harry could see them.
No.
Not Steve Rogers' features.
Harry's features. They were his own features. They didn't belong to anyone else, no matter how much he looked like that person, no matter how famous that person was. His face was his own. He nodded decisively, bundled up his own clothes from the floor and was about to walk about of the bathroom when a sudden thought struck him.
The shield.
The shield didn't come with the costume. Harry wasn't sure what Gabriel was going to give him, but he had a hunch it would be something like a well painted trash can lid. Well, he thought, I can do better. With a few obscure conjuring spells that he'd learnt for the Triwizard Tournament, he was able to get a circular base, gleaming silver. The colours weren't too tricky to apply afterwards. With a little finessing, he was able to get it looking exactly like the iconic shield. He added some leather straps on the back so as to attach it to his arm and he was done.
One final look in the mirror. Everything was perfect. He'd even modified the costume, so it was more than glorified spandex, giving it a more gritty, realistic look. Somehow, putting the ridiculous costume that would turn him into a walking American flag (quite ironic, considering he was in England) had made him realise that things weren't too bad. That he could live with these changes, make his own way in life. Not that he hadn't been doing that already, but now the belief was solidified.
It was as if he'd moved out of the shadow that Steve Rogers had cast over him, into the light, where things were shiny and optimistic. But then, Steve Rogers had never cast a shadow over Harry, had he? Steve Rogers didn't even know Harry was alive, he wasn't even there to cast a shadow. It had been Harry, bitter and resentful, who had cast the shadow, wanting someone to blame for how his life had been tipped on its head. He was out of his own shadow, living in sun.
And with that, Harry opened the bathroom door, ready to step out, only to be met with the blinding flash of a camera, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground, taking the towel rail and washing basket down with him.
Gary sat, sullenly sulking on the couch, ignoring the sharp eye that Grace was constantly keeping on him. It pained him to know that Harry Potter, the famous wizard man, was upstairs, looking exactly like Steve Rogers. Why did those kids get to spend time with him? Surely, Harry wouldn't like spending time with little gnats who would only nip at his ankles, only make him mad, only drive him up the wall to the point of hysterics. Why would he rather be spending time with those kids, when Harry could be having a meaningful, insightful conversation with him?
It puzzled Gary how much Harry seemed to want to get away from him. When Grace had defused the dogpile situation, Harry hadn't even spared him a glance, just disappeared, giggling like a ten year old girl. He'd let himself be dragged away by those tiny...annoyances. Even little Gabriel. In this situation, Gabriel was an annoyance. Just because the boy liked Captain America, didn't mean he could hog Harry. In fact, Gary had introduced Gabriel to Captain America and his story.
Gary thought of the massive box he brought as a present. It was full of some of his most treasured memorabilia, including comics, vintage collectors cards (he'd won the bid in America to some fool called Coulson, who swore he would get his hands on another set) and and rare figurines. Gabriel seemed like he would like the present, so Gary had reluctantly decided to part from them. Now, he wasn't so sure. In fact, he was tempted to keep them for himself, to teach Gabriel a lesson.
He was the biggest fan. He should have first rights to Harry.
Genevieve would know what to do. She would ignore all the boundaries set for her and get what she wanted. She was good at that. She always knew the right questions to ask, knew how to wheedle specific answers out of people, even when they didn't want to. When he had said he didn't approve of what Genevieve did to Harry, that had been a flat out lie. In fact, he admired her immensely, her iron will and quick wit. He just knew from Genevieve's endless ranting that he hated reporters, so he tried to play into his good graces. It hadn't worked, and left Gary feeling more than a little put out.
No matter.
There had to be a way to get Harry away from Gabriel and the mess of chattering gnats. He thought for a few minutes, mulling over different possibilities. Harry, from what he knew, didn't like being threatened or harassed. He also didn't like people sidling up to him and slyly talking to him, trying to force ideas, so he was going to have to find a way around that. Maybe, he should think like Genevieve and find a new way to get his attention every time. That could work. Perhaps, the element of surprise.
Yes, that would work nicely.
"Grace, I'm just going to go upstairs to the bathroom. Surely, you can let me do that much."
"Stay away from my son." She sent one last glare his way.
"Of course." For once, he was going to keep his word. Discreetly grabbing his bag, which contained his camera, he walked up the stairs. His idea was to catch Harry by surprise and get a photo, which could be used for future blackmail. The idea made him smile. Maybe he could be a reporter.
Once upstairs, he peeked into Gabriel's room, where the nuisances were screaming and playing, clearly waiting for Harry to return from wherever he had gone, as he wasn't in the room. The next logical conclusion would be the bathroom, so that was where he headed, silently padding along the carpet.
He was correct in his assumption. The door was locked, with strange white lights coming from underneath the door. Gary himself didn't have magic, that was his wife's side of things, but he could recognise it when he saw it. He knelt down on the ground and peered under the door. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the vibrant colours of the Captain America costume. Immediately, he lay down, desperate to get a better view. He couldn't see much, but his eyes lit up when he saw what looked to be the shield being created.
He saw Harry pull away, walking towards the door. Hastily, he stood and pulled out his camera, readying for the shot of a lifetime. Harry opened the door and Gary pressed down the trigger.
The next thing he saw was Harry tumbling backwards, bringing half of the bathroom wall down with him on the way.
Harry made a pointed statement to avoid Gary after the incident. It wasn't hard, considering Grace kicked him out, even forcing him to leave the wrapped and labeled present behind. Harry offered to pay for the damages in the bathroom, which Grace accepted, even though it took a bit of convincing. He spent the rest of the day playing with Gabriel, being involved in their games. They even ran down to the local park and roped in some other kids to play with them. Harry managed to wow them with his 'super, duper, super' strength, lifting up four of them at the same time.
All in all, he had a wonderful time. He took the costume off and left it with Gabriel. He used the shield as a second birthday present, which Gabriel was ecstatic about. He jotted down Grace's details so he could reimburse her for the damage in the bathroom. Then, he left, feeling a lot better than he had in a long time, Gary and Genevieve Armand forgotten in favour of their much nicer relatives.
Especially Gabriel. Harry really did have a soft spot for him.
Unfortunately, as was always the case with Harry Potter, his jubilant mood only lasted for two days, before 'the Article' appeared.
The next day, Harry received the Daily Prophet, as he always did. Everything was going peachy, until he unrolled it and saw the picture on the front cover. Immediately, his mood went stormy. Usually, he could throw off bad rumours. But this, it looked like this was going to be the one to throw him off his groove for a long time.
It was of him, in the Captain America costume, sprawled on the floor of the bathroom. The photo was printed next to one of him in the ice cream shop, when his glamour wore off for the first time, when Harry still thought his cover was infallible. The article was by Genevieve Armand, because of course it was. He groaned, preparing himself for what he was going to find inside the tiny, tiny words all squished onto the front page.
The headline underneath it was as corny as it usually was. It read: "HARRY POTTER NOT WHO WE THOUGHT HE WAS?" Unsure what he was going to find, Harry began to read, not without caution.
Today, my dear readers, I received a photo from my beloved husband Gary. He'd just come from a party in the muggle world. Surprisingly, Harry Potter was also there. At least, someone who introduced himself as Harry Potter. His voice was the same, as were in mannerisms. The only things that were different were his looks. According to my husband, he was now at least six foot two, with more muscle than before. Now, because I have been a good influence on him, he decided to be the intrepid investigator and find out what was going on.
Unfortunately, he was only able to snap a revealing photo of Harry Potter after he fell into a pile of towels before he was forcibly removed from the house. This doesn't matter, though. We already have more than enough evidence to find out what is going on with our hero.
Three weeks ago, I snapped a photo of Harry Potter as his appearance changed. He seemed shocked about this, becoming very flustered and panicky, ultimately Disapparating away from the scene. I did some research (meaning I showed the photo to Gary and he knew who it was straight away, the darling man) and was able to find out that Harry Potter bore a striking resemblance to Steven Rogers, the muggle war hero from the forties, also known as 'Captain America.'
The photo that Gary snapped yesterday features Harry wearing the Captain America costume. This confirms that there is some connection between the two, beyond their uncanny resemblance. I plan to find out what the story behind this is.
If you see him out and about, in his new appearance or his old appearance, approach him for me, ask him questions, don't relent until you get an answer. We will get to the bottom of this gripping mystery. There are so many theories to discuss, so many questions to ask. Is this new person an imposter? Has Harry been testing out some secret new project, courtesy of the Ministry of Magic and their Department of Mysteries? Is Harry a secret relative of Steven Rogers?
It's up to us to find out. I will be writing constant updates to this breaking story, so be sure to keep an intrepid eye on this story, my dear readers.
Until next time,
Genevieve Armand.
Harry cursed, throwing the paper onto the other side of the room. Why did these things have to happen to him? It was always him, wasn't it. He stormed over to his bed and flopped down, feet sticking over the end. Being tall was a nuisance when the bed was too small. At the moment, though, he didn't care. At the moment, all he wanted to do was send a few well directed stunners at Genevieve Armand and any reporters who came into his shop. That would teach them a lesson.
Taking a deep breath and trying to not to contemplate the very real consequences that the article would have (to say that there would be no consequences was silly and naive), he fished around in the top draw of his bedside table. A sharp piece of card nicked under his nail. Hissing, Harry withdrew his hand, along with the offending piece of card. He glanced at it while sucking his finger. His eyes widened as he realised what he'd picked up.
It was that small business card that Phil Coulson had given him all those months ago, simply with his contact details, nothing alluding to SHIELD. Harry frowned, glancing down at the card and then back at the wall. He hadn't looked at it since he'd come back from America, merely chucked it in his bedside table and never thought about it since that strange holiday.
Suddenly, the option of contacting Phil Coulson was looking quite attractive, maybe even presenting itself as something that he could possibly do.
"Do you know where Harry is?" Hermione was sitting on the couch, newspaper on her lap. The pictures of Harry in the costume stared back at was past the point of getting enraged at the articles. She also knew Harry was the same. Now, she was just mildly amused, with the smallest hint of annoyance. This time, there was a small bit of worry, but now there were more important things to worry about.
Ron swallowed his mouthful of food, placing the pastry back onto the plate. "No, I don't think so. Why? You don't want to perform more of your experiments on him, do you?" Ron eyed the pastry again. "I don't think he would like that." Hermione snorted when he slowly crept his hands towards the pastry, one of the only foods she could cook to perfection.
"No, but I have got more planned for a few weeks. There are so many more things I want to find out. I―" She stopped herself before she began rambling. That wasn't what she wanted to talk about right now. Clearing her throat, she began again. "I want to know if he's good with children."
"I have no idea if he is. Why would you want to know that?"
"Well, I want to ask him if he'll be our child's Godfather."
Ron stopped for a second, pastry halfway to his mouth. His eyes were staring at her belly, like he expected her to pop at any second. A huge, blinding smile overtook his face, before he fell to the floor in a dead faint, landing with a muffled, 'kerflump.' Hermione smiled at her fiance and placed a caring hand on her stomach.
Things were going well.
Woop, new chapter, and slightly longer too. This is the new length I am going for (around 5000) with bi-weekly updates on Tuesday and Saturday. This is thanks to feedback from people on my Discord server. Also, My mojo has returned, so woohoo. Lesson learned? Don't do daily updates. They suck the life out of you! Also, Gary does have a large part in the story, so this chapter was vital to set up his character. It also gave a deeper look into Harry's thoughts and how he's dealing with everything. I don't know how the Armand's snuck in, but here they are. Not for later on, though. More the 'before' stages, prior to 2011.
A big thank you to 'geekymom' for giving me the idea of Hermione being pregnant. That's actually going to become quite a large part of the story in the future, so woop! Thank you so much, both for the idea and your lovely reviews.
If you want to, you can join my discord server. You can talk further about my stories with me, if you like, and I give out previews to the next chapter around three hours before I update. Link is below and the server is about everything fanfiction. It's set to never expire, you just have to type it in.
/Kb9zJgV
Sincerely,
Mariadoria