Disclaimer: Last time I checked, my initials were CMC, not JKR, I didn't have an obscenely large bank account and I didn't create Harry Potter. Sucks.

Author's Note: I know I haven't updated in yonks dodges rancid cake but I've been heavily involved at my junior college cut off by cream pie splattering face organising and running the orientation camp! Sorry, OK? I'll try and update faithfully from now on! submerged by deluge of assorted foodstuff

Harry was still chuckling even as he left the cosy cottage, hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans. 'Contaminated indeed,' he smirked. 'That kid…she's really Hermione's daughter.'

Night had already fallen by the time he reached the front door of the guesthouse. Silhouetted in the doorway was a familiar figure with her hands planted firmly and disapprovingly on her hips.

'You are late for dinner, Mr. Potter!' Mrs. Thomas was already starting on him even before he had crossed the threshold. 'Never in the entire history of this house has any lodger flouted the rules! You don't like my cooking?'

Harry reverted to instinct, honed from years of scolding from Hermione and began backing away slowly. 'It's not that I don't like your cooking, Mrs. Thomas, I had some business in the village…'

'None of your excuses, young man!' cut in the matron. 'Now go into the dining room and have your dinner!'

He scurried away, completely chastened and sat down meekly at the table. His neighbour, a barrel–chested Scot clearly enjoying his second bowl of stew leaned over conspiratorially.

'She's as easy–going as my mam, she is,' he remarked, cheerfully scooping a hearty portion for Harry. 'In fact, more lenient. Me mam used to spank us boys with a whole oak branch if we were late for dinner.'

The Japanese couple sitting across them looked distinctly uneasy at his words, fidgeting and exchanging nervous phrases.

Harry nodded and smiled politely, shovelling down his stew as fast as courtesy would permit him. He was looking forward to tomorrow, when he would be taking Jessie out again.

This time, Jessie was waiting for him in the garden, flinging herself at his legs the moment he opened the gate.

'Daddy! You're here!'

Awkwardly, Harry bent over and swung her into his arms. Hermione was standing a little way off, her arms automatically folding themselves over her chest when he looked at her.

'Hi, Hermione,' Harry walked over to her, Jessie still clambering over his shoulders like a little monkey. 'I'll just be taking her around the village and we'll be back around five. Is that fine?'

Deep inside, he cringed at how formal he sounded, longing for the times when they were best friends and later, more than that. As much as he wanted to speed up the process of reacceptance, Harry knew that she was still dealing with the sudden onrush of emotions stirred up with his reappearance, after being suppressed years ago. He had never stopped being in love with her and was barely concealing how much he wanted her back in his life again.

After all, Harry had hurt her deeply. It was a mark of how strong she was when Hermione re-emerged with their daughter, her head held high. The last thing he wanted was to shake up her new life and break her down emotionally. Again.

Only time would heal the wounds and break down the emotional barriers Hermione had constructed around her heart.

'That'll be fine,' she replied blandly, eyes looking everywhere except directly into his emerald greens.

Harry noticed and he shuffled uneasily, a habit carried over from his Hogwarts days, another one of the many quirks which characterised the Harry Potter Hermione always said she knew and loved.

Had loved, said a nasty little voice at the back of his mind.

He was interpreting her inability to meet his eyes as resentment and hatred for what he had done, she could tell from the guilty look on his face. He knew that she would never forgive him for the rest of her life, that she hated him with every fibre of her being.

What Harry didn't know was that he was totally, completely, absolutely wrong.

No matter how badly she had been hurt, despite the sufferings and hardships she faced raising their daughter single-handedly, Hermione Granger was still in love with him. The bond of love and trust that had been built between the two of them over many years had proved far more difficult to break than she had thought.

Until very recently, she had hated herself for being unable to hate him. Despite what he had done to her, she still was in love with him. Hermione hated herself for being what she thought was weak.

Even now, she wasn't avoiding his penetrating gaze because she hated him. She was afraid she would lose control of her emotions and fall for him all over again.

You're weak, jeered a voice at the back of her mind.

I'm not weak. I'll show you.

'Be sure to bring Jessie back punctually.'

The coldness in her voice hurt him and it showed in his eyes. Hermione bit her lip, struggling not to let a trace of emotion show on her mask.

'I will,' Harry abruptly turned on his heel, marching down the garden path with long, quick strides.

She watched him go, feeling and embracing the sharp stabbing pain in her heart, accepting it as her due punishment for hurting him.

Throughout the entire exchange, which had in real time lasted no more than a minute, Jessie watched both her parents closely though still too young to understand the non-verbal communication between them. Her instincts told her that something had been going on back there but she hadn't a clue what was it all about.

When she looked up at her father, she was surprised to see a smile back on his face, as though nothing had happened.

'So, Jess, what shall we do today?' he asked gaily, pinching her cheek.

Her bewildered five-year-old mind soon gave up on comprehending the situation and she put it away.

'Let's go shopping, Daddy!' she said eagerly, climbing back down into his arms from her lofty perch on Harry's shoulders. 'The other day, I saw this book which Mummy wouldn't buy for me…'

Harry shook his head in disbelief, an amused smile on his lips as Jessie carried on with her prattle. A five-year-old kid wanting a book? Hermione had a lot to answer for.

At the bookstore, Harry ended buying a whole bag of books and a Barney stuffed toy. He left looking more like a coat hanger than a man with a large plastic bag and a squealing little girl hanging from his lanky frame.

After a long afternoon of shopping, the exhausted pair collapsed at a table of an outdoor café. This time, Harry made sure to purchase a strawberry ice-cream with no sprinkles, no red bits and a chocolate wafer sticking out of the top as well as a coffee for himself. He wasn't up to the challenge of eating yet another contaminated ice-cream.

As Jessie dug enthusiastically into her ice-cream, she continually watched the passer-bys on the sidewalk, occasionally, shrieking a greeting plus an introduction of Harry to familiar faces.

'Hi Mr. and Mrs. Abrahams! This is my daddy!' Harry lowered his head, desperately trying to avoid the stares and whispers of the elderly couple. As far as he knew, Hermione had not yet made it known to the townsfolk of their complicated circumstances.

When he heard the name 'Mrs. Thomas,' Harry's blood froze in its veins.

He looked up hurriedly, praying to all the saints he knew that there was a second Mrs. Thomas in the town.

Harry was sorely disappointed.

The dignified lady was rooted to the ground in shock, glancing left and right from him and Jessie. Eventually, her mouth dropped open into a perfect 'o' but she was still unable to articulate any words.

Harry leapt to his feet and guided her to their table without meeting any resistance whatsoever. Fortunately for him, Mrs. Thomas was made of strong stuff and she soon calmed down sufficiently to talk.

'Oh my,' were her first words. Jessie bounced happily onto her lap while Harry hovered uncertainly over her, unsure of what to say.

'Maybe you would like a cup of tea, Mrs. Thomas?' said Harry, remembering Mrs. Weasley's favourite remedy for being upset.

'Yes,' she said faintly, 'a cup of strong tea would be welcome.'

The aroma of the tea seemed to revive her at least partially and she sipped it slowly as Harry removed Jessie from her lap.

'Uh, Mrs. Thomas, how did you get to know Jessie?' he asked solicitously as he struggled to pry the stubborn little girl off.

'Why, we townsfolk helped out Jane when she first arrived here,' said the old lady sharply. 'Poor girl, alone and pregnant and she absolutely refused to talk about her baby's father.'

Harry had the good grace to blush under Mrs. Thomas' withering glare.

'And to think I offered to introduce you to her…Thank God I didn't!' She placed the now-empty teacup back onto its saucer, shuddering as she imagined the ugly scenario that would have unfolded.

No sooner than she had finished her sentence when Jessie wriggled free of her father's grasp and launched herself back into Mrs. Thomas' lap.

Harry sat down, feeling awkward watching the two of them.

'Now, child, I really must go,' began Mrs. Thomas, gently disengaging her dress from Jessie's hands. 'Goodbye, Jessie dear, Mr. Potter!'

As soon as she vanished into the crowd, Jessie turned her attention back to her father. 'Let's continue our shopping, Daddy! There's still some candy I want…'

Harry groaned internally.

Author's Note: I think that was the longest chapter I've ever written. Whew! Hope you people liked that.