Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Co. Honestly. fingers crossed behind back

Author's Note: I will not be celebrating Christmas holidays this year. That means you guys get an uninterrupted flow of chapters! Huzzah!

Mugglecast Pickles Rock: You are so right.

Adapot: She knew that Ron would be on Harry's side. Oh, and they had to set up a temporary camp near Voldemort's base.

Harry'n'mione4ever: Of course. This is an H/Hr story. Hehe.

As the last rays of sunlight gradually faded away, the streetlamps placed alongside the path suddenly flared, bathing the surroundings with a warm orange glow. The gravel crunched noisily under Harry's feet as a warm breeze ruffled his hair.

All of these little things went unnoticed by him, his mind thrown into turmoil. What would he say to her? What if her husband opened the door? Worse, what if he got thrown out on his ear? Harry could just imagine the scenario:

'Hi, I'm Harry Potter, Hermione's ex-boyfriend.'

'I know about you, you horny bastard, you slept with another woman and let Hermione see, didn't you, Potter?'

Yep, that would go rather well, thought Harry sardonically.

He was so occupied in putting together a long, convoluted speech, Harry didn't notice the gate until he kicked it with his right foot. To make matters worse, it was made of iron.

Harry's flow of colourful expletives, chanted furiously while he hopped around on one foot as he clutched the other could have filled a large spellbook. Most likely one dedicated to the Dark Arts.

When the pain in his foot finally eased, Harry looked up at the little cottage lying before him. It was a rather traditional red brick cottage, the kind wreathed in creepers as featured idyllic country landscapes. The iron fence, the very same one he had a brief and painful encounter with encircled the cottage with a modest garden separating them both.

The feature of the cottage which terrified Harry the most was the yellow glow emanating from the windows. It meant that somebody was home, quashing the hope that he could go away quietly with his dignity intact.

Actually, the real problem for Harry was not the issue of his infidelity. Before she succumbed to her injuries, Romilda had revealed that the Gillywater she had given him was liberally spiked with a potent combination of Firewhisky and several Confounding Charms cast upon them. Very reluctantly, she also confessed that they did not have sex, despite her repeated efforts. Luckily for Romilda, she died before Harry could react. No, the problem was getting Hermione to believe him.

Harry stood outside the gate for some time, staring disconsolately at the cottage. After what seemed like an eternity, he opened the gate and walked in. The front door was simple oak, with an old-fashioned brass door handle and matching knocker cast in the shape of a lion's head.

Very slowly, Harry grasped the shiny brass knocker and brought it down, once, twice, three times on the door. The echoing knocks aroused some noises from inside the house, giving him cold feet.

'Coming,' called an achingly familiar voice from within. 'Just hold on a minute…'

The door creaked open and Hermione Granger stood on the threshold.

Time had not altered her as drastically as it had him. Hermione's thick brown hair was loosely gathered into a rough ponytail which streamed down her back. However, Harry only allowed himself a quick, sweeping glance of her, his gaze returning almost immediately to her eyes.

He was deeply saddened by what he saw there.

Initially, Hermione's hazel eyes were curiously inquiring before she recognized him. Harry felt his heart break all over again as he watched hurt, anger and sorrow fill them, saw tears form in her eyes.

'What are you doing here?'

Hermione's voice was barely a whisper. For a moment, Harry glimpsed the uncertain 11-year-old girl he had once known, so many years ago.

'I…I came to apologise…'

Harry had hesitated too long: she broke their eye contact, closing the heavy oak door as the firelight from within caught the tears spilling down her cheeks.

With reflexes born of years of Quidditch, Harry jammed his foot into the doorway.

The surprising sharp pain that resulted forced an involuntary gasp from his lips. Unintentionally, he had used his previously injured right foot to block the doorway, injuring it further.

'Go away, Harry!' cried Hermione, her voice wobbling.

'Hermione, please…'

'Mummy?'

A third voice, totally unexpected, froze both Harry and Hermione in their tracks.

'Jessie! What are you doing out of bed?!' hissed Hermione's voice.

'I heard lots of noises and I couldn't sleep and I was thirsty, so I came to get a drink of water…'

Harry felt the pressure on his foot ease off and he took this advantage to replace his throbbing right foot with his left one.

Unfortunately, Hermione was sharper than he'd anticipated, and she slammed the door shut as soon as he removed his right foot.

Harry stared at the door in dismay.

'Hermione, open the door!' he shouted, banging on it with his fists.

The only reply was the clacking sound of the lock.

At that very point, that very instant, Harry lost patience.

Whipping out his wand, with a furtive glance around, he aimed it at the door.

'Hermione, you had better open this door, or I'll blast it off its hinges!' he bellowed.

No answer from within.

'Reducto!'

The door flew backwards with an almighty groan as it was ripped from its hinges. It fell to the floor with a loud crash, revealing Hermione standing there with her wand out.

'Who the bloody hell do you think you are, Harry Potter, if you think you can break your way into my home!'

'I only want to talk to you!'

'Well, I don't want to talk to you, you two-timing bastard.' Though her words were fierce, more tears were rolling down Hermione's face.

'I need to explain what really happened that night,' said Harry earnestly.

Hermione set her jaw firmly. 'You and I both know what happened that night,' she said calmly. 'You fucked Romilda Vane and deliberately showed me what you had done.'

'I did not! She offered me a drugged Gillywater and then dragged me into bed with her!'

Silence.

'Did you – '

'No, we didn't have sex.'

'Oh.'

The atmosphere, previously tense and filled with fury, subsided to a strange awkwardness, though Harry sensed that she did not completely believe him

Hermione bit her lip, a familiar gesture which brought back fond memories to Harry.

'Sorry about your door,' muttered Harry, his face crimson. 'I'll fix it for you.'

The door flew back into place with a flick of his wand and he turned back to face Hermione.

'So…' Harry began. Merlin, I sound like such an idiot, he thought furiously.

Struggling desperately for something to talk about, his gaze fell on the little girl half-hidden behind her mother.

'You have a beautiful daughter…Jessie, is it?'

'Yes, thank you.' The reply was stilted and polite.

Hearing that, Harry angrily rubbed the bridge of his nose.

'For Merlin's sake, just what is your bloody problem?!' he snarled.

'My bloody problem is that I don't believe you!' Hermione shot back.

'I already explained to you…'

'Did you honestly think that it would be so simple, Harry? You just barge in here, explain and think that everything can go back to the way it was?'

Harry opened his mouth to answer back, then thought the better of it and shut it.

There was only one explanation for her behaviour, he reasoned, and he gave it.

'You're married.'

Harry stated it flatly and without expression, though he was shattering inside. Hermione was momentarily stunned.

'What? No! No, I…'

'Alright then, there's another man in your life. That's why you won't treat me like your friend. You're trying to drive me out of your life so you can start it over, with your fucking Muggle boyfriend and children!'

Hermione had gone deathly white at those words. Taking her silence as agreement with his words, Harry turned his blazing emerald eyes on Jessie.

'I see you're already getting started.' he growled.

'You're wrong.'

He blinked and wheeled on her.

'What?!'

Hermione stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously.

'There is no other man in my life. Not since you, Harry.'

Harry's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.

'But…' he began, gesturing in the little girl's direction. 'Aren't you her mother?'

She placed a hand on Jessie's shoulder, squeezing it lovingly.

'Yes, I am.'

'Then…who's her father?'

Hermione looked him squarely in the eye. 'You are.'

Author's Note: No surprise there, people. This is, after all, a Harry/Hermione fanfic. Sorry for this late post but my dad's here for Christmas and he doesn't appreciate the subtle art of FanFiction. Ah well. Can you say Bah, Humbug?

You, good reader, might notice some humorous bits in this chapter. I apologise, since this humour does not fit the overall emotional theme of this chapter but I was in a very good mood and it shows in my writing.