Harry's POV
Harry Potter was trying to breathe evenly.
He was trying, really, he was.
Sitting on a stool at the tiny pub in Mackay, Harry downed another shot of amber liquid, but it didn't make him feel any better.
He ran a hand over his face, as if massaging it, and he closed his emerald eyes. Breathe, Harry, he told himself. Breathe.
But his nerves were shot, his hands shaking, and his breath was not coming, except for in short gasps.
Slapping a galleon on the table, Harry stumbled out of the pub and into the dusty streets. He swallowed blinking against the moonlight, and realized he had nowhere to go. Groaning inwardly, Harry blinked away a stray tear (which was from the dust in his eyes, he told himself), and willed his legs to move. Currently, they felt like they were stuck in wet cement.
But move where? He couldn't go back to that damn house, and he had nowhere else to stay.
"Harry?" A timid voice sounded near him.
"Bugger off, Hermione." He told her, without giving her so much as a glance.
"But–"
"Don't bloody tell me you're sorry!" He said, raising his voice so that stranger stared at him in the purple night. "Just..." He sank to his knees. "Don't."
There was a silence. The strangers. Perhaps realizing they had nothing left to see, moved on down the street.
For some reason, Harry was suddenly filled with purpose. He stood, and began to move down the street with intention.
"Where are you going, Harry?" Hermione asked, her shorter legs struggling to keep up with his long strides.
"I'm going to be staying with you for a while." He said.
Hermione was clearly dumbfounded. "What?!"
"I'm going to be staying with you for a while."
"Yes, I bloody well heard you, but..." She paused. "Why–"
"One!" Harry said, rounding on her, his nostrils flaring. "Because I have no where else to go. Two, because I now have a bloody daughter I've got to take care of that you've hid from me for three years, so, three, you owe me!" He was up in her face now, their noses nearly touched. His eyes narrowed. "I can't even look at you." Harry spat, his knuckles white. He turned around and began walking again, faster this time.
"You don't have any responsibility here!" Hermione called, her voice low and dangerous.
Harry nearly screamed, he was so frustrated. "I won't have my daughter growing up without a father!"
"Rose doesn't need a father." Hermione shot back.
"Don't tell me about not needing a father!" Harry's face was contorted in rage. "You have parents! You have a family!"
"And so does she!" She responded, her voice rising.
Harry took several paces forward. "And now, so do I." He told her quivering form. "And I don't abandon family."
They did not speak any further as they walked to the house.
Hermione's POV
The next day, Hermione woke early. She hadn't slept well, still seething from her argument with Harry. By the time they had gotten back, it was too late for any discussion. Hermione had directed him to the couch and tromped upstairs.
"Oh, Rosie." She said quietly to her daughter's sleeping form. "What am I doing?"
Rose's tiny fists curled and uncurled as she slept, a stuffed owl tucked under one arm.
Sighing, Hermione picked up her wand and made her bed with an effortless flick. She was in the middle of silently levitating clothes to their proper places in the room when a knock came at the door.
"Hermione, dear?" It was her mum. The doorknob turned and the older woman stepped quietly into the room. "Er, I'm not sure if you are aware of this, dear, but... there appears to be a man sleeping on our couch?"
Hermione blanched. She had forgotten to come up with an excuse for Harry being there at all. "Erm, yes, I know, Mum." She said, evasively, trying to think of a good reason for Harry to be there.
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to tell me why he is here?"
"He's, erm..." It suddenly hit her. "A Ministry of Magic employee! He didn't have anywhere to stay..." She trailed off lamely.
"Do you know him, Hermione?
"What? Uh, no." She said, much too quickly. "I mean, yes, I know him, but only because of work. I don't really know him." Hermione added, her heart in her throat.
"Hm," was all her mother said, her lips pursed in a thin line. "Alright. Well, would he like to stay for–"
"No!" Hermione cried quickly. "He's leaving first thing. In fact, could you start Rose's breakfast and I'll go wake him? Very important business he has to attend to, I'm sure!"
Her mum nodded slowly, although her eyes were narrowed in disbelief. "Yes, alright."
Hermione swallowed hard, bid her mother goodbye, and left her room. That did not go well, she thought to herself as she flew down the stairs, determined to get Harry Potter out of her house.