A/N: Hey everyone! I got my exams results back! The math test I was so sure I failed because I picked the answers by going inka-binka-a-bottle-of-ink on? I got a ninety-five percent on! LOL, I was so happy! Anyway, I decided to break the chapter about Hermione's mother into two parts. It makes it easier on me. So after this, rest assured, you haven't seen the end of her mother! And as always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate everyone's comments! Love from Turice

CHAPTER TWENTY: ON AGAIN TONIGHT

Lauren O'Hara sat in the window seat to the right of her vanity table. Her villa was on a bluff overlooking the French seascape. There was open ocean as far as the eye could see. On most days, the sun would shine just a little, but the water and sky above it seemed to be mirroring her feelings this morning, for once. Her husband, Pete, an ass-backwards Irish farmer living with a British wife in a Tuscan villa on the edge of France, had given her the vanity room overlooking the ocean in hopes of cheering her up when they'd moved. It was ironic, really, that he thought he ruled this large house when in reality, it was her money that had got them there in the first place, her the hired help looked to for orders, her everyone in the village within sight of the castle said owned it. But she'd gotten away with letting him think what he wanted and her knowing the real truth all the while for years. He thought she suffered from not having made love with her husband in seven years. She'd been the one to initiate the sex strike, him who'd been furious when she refused to give it all up to him.

Theirs was a loveless marriage; one both would rather say they hate and have than be without. He had his secret. He'd bragged in the local pub that his mistress in the city, put up and cared for with his cold wife's money, was his 'dirty little secret'. Little did he know, his wife knew and didn't care. Besides, Lauren O'Hara had her own dirty little secret: she had a thirty-year-old daughter with another man living in London. And not just any daughter; her daughter was the one and only Hermione Potter, having married the famous Harry Potter when she was a mere thirteen. She'd been devastated when news spread around the world seven years ago that she'd died, and totally confused , but overjoyed none the less, when just recently it was found that she'd never really been dead. She had been wondering whether to get into touch with her daughter ever since. Other than the fact that she'd been married to Harry Potter all those years ago, and that she'd been ferreted to America and back again, Lauren really knew nothing of her daughter's life. But she wanted to learn.

She thought back to that dreary Halloween night, when Sirius had been framed for murder. She'd been at home with their crying young daughter while he was out discovering his best friends' bodies. He hadn't bothered telling her James, Lily, and Harry were in danger. But then again, he never told her anything. Just as her life was now, Lauren hated her life then. Lauren had had a crush on Sirius since their third year at Hogwarts. He was the typical playboy, the one who knew he was drop dead sexy and used it to his advantage, strutting around with his equally sexy best friend, and their whole group of admirers. While James was the one pining away for his one and only, Sirius was the arrogant one who had no problem hooking up with a new, generally nasty girl whenever he felt like it. The hooking up had continued even once they had left Hogwarts. Lauren had had no problem shamelessly flirting with Sirius every time he came shopping at the supermarket where she worked as a cashier. She found he'd often forget things on purpose in order to secure himself a reason to come back and see her. She fell into his advances easily.

She remembered the flutter in her tummy the first time he'd asked her out. He'd taken her to a restaurant famous for being one of the most romantic in London, ordered an expensive wine, and had treated her like a princess. He was a charmer all right, one she had no problem falling into easy laughter with. She now knew why the girls who had gotten close to him always spoke so highly of him. Underneath all of the cocky sex appeal, he was a sweetheart. She learned why such nice guys like his best friends put up with a playboy lacking all morals. In talking to him, you realized he had a sizzling brilliance underneath his rugged exterior, he was fiercely loyal, and a complete mush when it came to the love story of his best friend James and his newly expectant wife, Lily. Lauren had made the mistake of mentioning the shunning of his werewolf friend, Remus, and she'd gotten an earful. By the time Sirius was done explaining, Lauren knew every favorable quality of Remus Lupin and just how much his buddies cared about him. At the end of the night, when Sirius had walked her to her door, they kissed goodnight and then some. He was fantastic in bed, making Lauren's body do things she'd never thought possible. When she'd awakened in the morning, she found only a note on her pillow with seven numbers that would keep her in touch with him. They played the dating game for four months, repeating the same pattern of having a great time on a date and then returning to either one of their apartments and having an even better time, before Lauren realized something was wrong. She'd skipped a couple of months. Lauren rushed to St. Mungo's, where they confirmed her worst fear: she was pregnant with her first child, the first child, too, of the baby's father, Sirius Black.

She'd cried when she'd told him. He held her as she did, promising that they'd work it out. He promised they'd get married and raise the baby together. He'd kept his promise. But that didn't make it any easier on her. She had never pictured herself having a husband and a baby at the age of twenty. She had a great support system in Lily, but Lily had wanted to marry James, and wanted to be pregnant with her son. Lauren did not. She would rather have continued carelessly having sex with a hot guy whenever she felt like it and then sending him home in the morning. Now her narrow little hips were expanding, her perky breasts were sagging and tender. On the day she gave birth to her daughter, Sirius was ecstatic. He loved his baby girl more than anything or anyone. Throughout the pregnancy, he'd been the one with the expectant glow. James had laughed in the delivery room and said Sirius had never shone so bright. Lauren had to agree with him. At least one of them was happy with Hermione's arrival. If you counted James's family, there was four people happy to see her. Even little Harry was happy. Harry had been fussy all day. He cried throughout the whole delivery. But as James held Harry and Sirius held Hermione, they put them eye to eye. Harry instantly stopped crying. The three month old baby looked at the newborn. They stared at each other. Harry smiled at Hermione, and as if he gave her inspiration, Hermione smiled at him for the first time. Lily, standing next to James and her son, saw the actions of the two infants and knew then what was in the future for the two of them. Lauren had shrugged it off. They were just babies after all. It looked now as if Lily had been right.

Lauren had cared for Hermione day in and day out for nine months. She really tried to have the same spark Lily had with Harry. But it never worked. As much as she knew she had to hide it from everyone, including the father of her baby, she couldn't deny it to herself; she didn't want Hermione. She didn't want her house, she didn't want her husband. And then, in what seemed like an instant, everything she had was gone and she was free at last. Sirius was in jail after agreeing to end their marriage, her daughter was placed in a home with people who would give her the love she deserved, more than she'd ever gotten from her mother. Her everything was gone and so was she. She was on the streets of Paris before Sirius could even blink. She hadn't told him where Hermione was. The little voice in her head had told her not to. She knew now that the her intuition had been wrong all along. After Sirius, she hadn't had anyone who gave a damn about her. She knew she'd broken his heart by taking his baby. But things must be okay now. As far as she knew, he was dead and their daughter had gotten back home regardless of what her mother had done to her.

It was guilt that Lauren from going to meet her daughter again. How could she face the baby she'd abandoned after never having given her a chance in the first place? She rose from the window seat and grabbed her purse from the table. She left the mansion she hated, heading for a place she hadn't been in more than twenty-five years. She Apparated to Hogsmeade, straight to the familiar old door of The Three Broomsticks.

The same warmth the Three Broomsticks had always possessed wrapped itself around Lauren, like a hug from a dearly missed old friend. Even Madam Rosmerta was still there, though she had aged considerably. But she still wore the slippers with the bells on the toes and the same cheery smile she always did. Lauren smiled. She never should have left London, her husband, or her daughter. But you always do right by yourself, and you pay for your sins. There's no such thing as what might have been. Wasting time on it will drive you out of your mind.

Harry Potter was sitting at a table near the door, enjoying his first butterbeer in what he could tell would be a long series of them. He was waiting for Sirius, Remus, and his best friend Ron, just the four of them meeting to catch up on each other's lives. Ron had already had Rosmerta inform Harry that he was going to be late. One of Ron's sons had a virus of some sort, and his wife wasn't expected to be home for at least another half hour. But it was alright with Harry. It had been awhile since he'd sat and talked with Sirius, who was supposed to arrive before Remus, who seemed to be chronically late these days. They'd share a few more private stories as they waited for the other two.

Harry was finishing the final sip of the first butterbeer when the woman caught his eye. She was seated at the far end of the bar from the door, alone and looking uncomfortable. What really struck Harry, however, was the striking resemblance she bore to someone he knew. She was, quite simply, a slightly older version of Hermione. The hair, the lips, the eyes, even the clothing style and melancholic look on her face was that of his childhood friend. Had he been thinking clearly, he could have saved the man who had just walked through the front door a lot of trouble by making sure he didn't see her. However, Harry was not thinking clearly, something Sirius noticed when he first caught a glimpse of him from the door. Sirius approached Harry, and instead of breaking the man's concentration, he too turned to look at what Harry was frowning at so intently.

If tears make a sound when they fall, you would have been able to tell in the silence Sirius heard. He was only vaguely aware that the world was still spinning as he stared at her, looking sullen and broody. He hadn't seen her in thirty years, not since he saw her walking off with his daughter for the last time. No letters to tell him where she'd gone, where their daughter was, no letter to tell him why he received divorce papers while in Azkaban. Just silence, the same heavy silence that was all Sirius heard. He moved closer to her, almost gliding, as if in a trance. Harry had finally woken from his and watched as Sirius spoke to the woman.

"Lauren?"

Lauren spun the barstool to face the direction from which the speaker had called her name. Finding it odd that anyone would recognize her after all these years, she looked into the face of the speaker with curiosity. Sirius watched as her expression changed from curious to shock, and finally, to a little shameful.

"Sirius. I thought you were dead." She turned back to stare at a burn mark on the bar. Harry came up behind Sirius. There was no way he was going to miss a word of this little conversation.

"Funny little thing about our daughter. She's magically powerful enough to override that archway. But you wouldn't know if she's incredible or not, you've never met her." Sirius snarled.

"Oh, don't even start in on me here, Sirius. I'm not in the mood for you." Lauren muttered.

"Well, maybe you should have had an attitude like that thirty years ago. If you weren't in the mood for me then, you never would have ended up with an inconvenience like a daughter."

"I know I'm a horrible person for what I did to you and her, Sirius. I don't want to discuss it with you. Not right now."

"Not right now. That's what you always said. You didn't want to deal with her back then either. When will you ever be ready to deal with your own daughter, Lauren?"

"I don't know. She doesn't even know I exist. I won't put a hurry on learning how to deal with her."

Sirius was completely baffled by the amount of carelessness Lauren was showing. They were talking her own flesh and blood, and she was too busy nursing a butterbeer to even go see her.

"Do you want to know what makes her look like so much more of an incredible person and you look more pathetic? She'll forgive you. She'll forgive you for walking out on her. She'll forgive you for being too damn selfish to even come visit her. She'll forgive you because that is just the person she is. A real, caring, compassionate person, one you will seriously regret not getting to know sooner. I pity you, Lauren. I really do." Sirius threw a Galleon onto the bar to pay for her drink, grabbed Harry roughly by the jacket sleeve, and hauled him outside, ranting to him the whole way, leaving Lauren to wallow in the well of self pity he'd just helped her make deeper.

Maybe she ought to cut her loses and go home. But some unknown part of her was telling her to follow Sirius and the dark haired man with him. She looked at the bottle of butterbeer in her hand, to the Galleon he'd left, and to him as he disappeared out of sight of the window. In a split seconddecision, she set the bottle down, grabbed her purse, and ran out the door after him. Lauren had no idea just what she was running to, but she knew deep down, in the part of her that had never been so fearful of him and of meeting her daughter, that she could not let him get away. Not until she knew more about her daughter. And know more about her daughter she would in the coming days.