Eventually, she arrived, coming up to the patent chocolate-box-y looking house much more bigger and taken care of than her own, and however much she tried to hide it, Hermione accepted the fact she had fallen in love with that house. But this was the Potter household, she felt it a sin to love something that would never be hers.
Now at the doorway, she braced herself, sighing deeply before going to knock on the door. However, Mrs Weasley was too late, as the door swung open, revealing a small – ish red haired woman, dressed rather like a muggle, which was strange, and in a trench coat. –Ginny. Her eyes were red and her pale face blotchy, a sign she had been crying – again.
''Hermione!'' Ginny stated – the obvious. Her voice was weak, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of something she said to Harry in their sixth year. ''I'm just about to leave, umh, but H-Harry is..is just in there – I'm sure he can deal with what you need.'' Ginny faked a smile before passing Hermione and walking to the end of her small front- garden, turning left before apparating.
Hermione watched the whole time, before turning to the open doorway and sighing. She figured Harry and Ginny were still unhappy – great, she thought, that'll make him harder to get through to, at least.
She entered as quietly as possible, closing the door quietly, too. She stopped to look around for Harry, no success. She turned to enter the Potter's living room, surrounded by warm colours, bulky furniture and countless books dotted everywhere. Surely enough, the Boy Who Lived stood, eyeing a bookcase, away from Hermione. Seeing as he hadn't really noticed her, Hermione was certain she was just quiet enough.
''What did I say to you before? ''She's been crying again, look at her eyes'' It seems you didn't notice,'' Hermione stated, an unusual way to start a conversation, but the whole damn world was unusual for most, if not all of their lives.
Harry jolted around, Hermione's stern, but however still kindly voice ringing in his ears. His eyes widened at the sight of her, unable to move or say anything for a moment. Then, he spoke for the first time.
''Hermione!'' Again – stating the blatantly obvious.
Hermione didn't smile her usual clean, kind smile as usual, this time, her face was blank. ''Harry'' she replied, stern still, barely any emotion there at all, like a blank slate.
Harry blinked – he hadn't seen Hermione in so long, he almost forgot her face, - the face he saw every day all those years back in the day. He wanted to go and hug her, but by the look glued to her face, he figured now was not the best time to act civil. ''I umh, is there a problem, Hermione?'' Harry eventually asked, his voice uncertain.
''Yes, actually'' Hermione began, an alien confidence seeping though. ''Something has been wrong for about, oh, one and a half years now?" Hermione was confused, confident, angry, upset, the whole package. She thrust a small picture of young Needy, of which she is twirling around, her mousy hair and patent dress following her, right in front of Harry's face.
He took it between his fingers, utterly puzzled. ''What on earth is this, Hermione?'' He asked, almost shouting.
Hermione couldn't take it any longer, all her anger ever bottled up before, was beating at her mind to escape, and this was taking a huge advantage of her. ''This!'' She began, anger and tears could flood at any moment. ''This, is the product of us!'' She eventually shouted.
Harry knew exactly what she meant. Harry and Ginny had been like this for a very long time, about, a couple of years, now. However, about a' year and a half' ago, Harry simply couldn't take it anymore – and called upon Hermione to 'drop on by' to talk about things – and talk they did, some rather too much.
Harry soon discovered Hermione felt wary of Ron, they had been trying for a baby for some time, the, but just couldn't seem to conceive at all, and Hermione felt she couldn't take the hold she thought Ron had on her anymore.
Old feelings also came to light, old feeling Harry and Hermione had for each other – and that night sparked them all up again, and in a heated, confused, upset and slightly angry mess of a night, Hermione and Harry ended up having a sort – of – one – night – stand, and they hadn't met up since, mainly, embarrassment.
Harry placed his hand to his forehead, his face now bearing an open hole – his mouth. He eyed the picture carefully for a few moments. ''But how do you know?'' He asked, rushing his words and messing up a few times.
Hermione sighed, going for her baggy trouser pocket, hunting for more pictures. Sure enough, a few more appeared, highlighting things the young one had done. Hermione passed them to Harry. ''Can't you...see? Take a good look, and open your eyes, there's Potter written all over her to me. ''
If Harry's mouth could have hung any wider, it would have done, as he started to realise it. Instead, his green eyes just grew wider, and his hand moving to his scraggy hair. ''D-..does Ron know? Oh, oh gosh, that's why you're here, isn't it?" Harry asked in a hurry once more, 'panic mode' was setting in on his mental emotions machine.
Hermione shook her head, frantically. ''No,'' she began, bracing herself, still, the events from earlier that day were still haunting her. ''But...umh, people are starting to notice.''
Harry frowned, almost pouting like Needy had done. ''Which...which people, Hermione?''
''Well'' she began '' Let's just say, earlier I went to see if my job application to teach at Hogwarts was – uh, accepted. And McGonagall oh, er, Minerva, even noticed as soon as I declared myself as Mrs Weasley...'' Hermione sighed, her own eyes wide, longing for Harry to reply, with anything.
He had stopped – dead. He decided to take the sub-subject away from Hogwarts, and to focus upon the child – his child, his first child, to be precise, his own. Little. Girl.
''What's her name?'' He managed to pit out, rather quickly, taking Hermione by surprise.
''Oh..umh'' She came to terms with the only slight, but however meaningful randomness to the question before deciding to answer. ''Anita, although, everyone prefers to call her Needy, these days,''
For the first time, Harry smiled, actually smiled. ''When's her birthday?'' He asked, now rather confident again. 'Potter-confidence' Hermione went to sit down almost immediately, and buried her head in her hands. The smiled was wiped from Harry's face, as he rushed to console her-maybe too quickly. ''What, Hermione? You can tell me."
Hermione looked up, straight into Harry's seemingly sparking green eyes. ''O-...'' she didn't want to carry on, but she knew she had to. ''October 31st.'' She blurted out, an array of tears came flowing the moment she said the words. She thought it was just typical, how a date remember by Harry as being the night his parents died was now a cause for new life – his new life, partly.
Harry stopped, getting up again – still holding the pictures of Needy Hermione passed to stood up before Hermione, watching her tears fall onto the fluffy cream coloured carpet below, he took one last good look at the pictures – still trying to register everything that Hermione believed to be true about the child.
A moment later, his eyes were full of tears, full on tears, something he hadn't experienced for quite some time, even the times he and Ginny fought – which were becoming more and more frequent – he always stayed calm, he never cried, never anything – numb, even. However, the amount of emotions he ran through just in the time Hermione was there completely astounded him. ''Open your eyes.'' She has told him, and finally, he did.
Slowly, Harry moved closer to Hermione, whom however never noticed, her tears were taking over her. He kneeled before her – well, more crouched than anything else.
''She's beautiful'' Harry started, causing Hermione to look up pretty quickly. Tears made her eyes red, her face blotchy, just like Ginny as she left. ''Almost just as beautiful as you, Hermione, and I see that now.'' Harry concluded.
Hermione's waterfall of tears couldn't have stopped more abruptly. She widened her eyes, confused, as Harry's teary expression shifted to that of a teary smile. A moment passed and Hermione watched his wide, slightly warming smile. Harry, still knelt, placed his palm on Hermione's knee, gently moving his thumb in a sort of calm, warming way.
Neither of them knew what in the world they were doing, their consciences were on holiday – together, it seemed. For a moment, they just looked at each other, like, really looked at each other, as if they were looking for traits in each other, and maybe they were? Maybe they were finding whichever parts of Needy they had in each other? Neither of them knew, they just did it.
And then, something they both could not explain happened – they leapt on each other, like really leapt. Harry stood up, while Hermione sort of instinctively wrapped her legs around him. They kissed each other, time and time again, changing every now and then, one minute, what you would call normal, on the mouth makeout as such, and the next, Hermione would break free from Harry's lips, and plant sort kisses all along his neck, and then, she was suddently reminded of that night- the night Harry gave her the one thing she could never hate, the one thing she would always thank him for, and the one thing that would always tie him, to her. – Needy.