A/N: Finally! Here it is, I'm sorry it's later than I planned, but it's finally here. This is about the fifth version of this chapter, definitely not how I expected it to turn out, but I think it's better this way. Also, it gives me another chapter (what I originally had planned, I thought went better later on).
Also, this is a very, very, long chapter, so I'm hoping that makes up for the long wait.
Thank you to all my reviewers, a special thank you to all my faithful readers who have waited out my long absence from posting, it really means a lot that you are still reading, and enjoying. And thanks to my new readers, who've just found my story, and added me to their favourites, I hope I continue to give you a story you will keep on loving.
So, now, please read, enjoy and review :)
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DISCLAIMER: I own nothing related to Harry Potter, including Harry Potter himself
~ Chapter 15: A Magical Christmas pt2 ~
"Thanks Kreacher," Harry muttered, avoiding Hermione's eyes: it seemed even his elf was keen to fill Hermione in on Harry's feelings. Hermione blushed, chanced a glance at Harry with a smiling playing on her lips, then turned back to Kreacher,
"Thank you, Kreacher. And I'm sorry I went away for so long," She said, Kreacher smiled then turned to collect Hermione's night bag from the corner, and proceeded out to the hallway, leaving Hermione and Harry alone.
Harry spoke first, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting, I just wanted to change out of last nights clothes" he explained,
"I was fine, me and Kreacher had a wonderful little catch up" she said with a sly smirk, causing Harry to shift uncomfortably in his seat, wondering what Kreacher may have felt at liberty to tell her about Harry's past thoughts and behaviours,
"Really?" he asked, "What did you talk about?" He tried to keep his voice casual, but his tone was higher than usual; Hermione giggled,
"Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that" she said, not giving anything away, "I hear that George often spends a lot of time here: quite the bachelor pad you have going on"
"Is that what Kreacher called it? Or are you making assumptions?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes, Hermione laughed,
"Apparently it's just the two of you most of the time; according to Kreacher the house has been lacking from feminine presence. He was telling me how, when you and 'Miss Ginny' stopped seeing each other, 'Mister George' became an almost constant presence. Apparently Kreacher would have liked my presence to help keep you in line: I was about to enquire just what it was that you were getting up to that appeared to be so far over the line, but that was when you walked in" Hermione finished grinning.
The rest of the dinner passed in amiable conversation about everything and nothing, an hour later, Kreacher came back to clear away, ushering them up to the drawing room where a fresh bottle of wine and a roaring fire was waiting for them,
"Wow" Hermione breathed, as she walked in, not believing how different the place looked, "You've really done a lot to the place, it looks great" she said, taking a glass of wine from the table and sitting on the couch. Harry grabbed the other glass and took a seat beside her,
"It took a while, a good couple of years to get the whole place up to standard. But it kept me busy, It's what I needed, at the time," He trailed off, the pair sipped their wine, lapsing into a comfortable silence, when Hermione suddenly spoke,
"There is something I would like to ask," Hermione started hesitantly, Harry turned to he, inviting her to continue, "Kreacher calls me mistress,"
"Yeah," Harry answered, slightly confused, "He precedes everyone's names with either Master of Mistress," he reminded her; surprised she didn't remember that fact.
Hermione shook her head, "Actually, he doesn't: whenever he talks of George, he calls him 'Mister', not 'Master'. And Ginny is always 'Miss', never Mistress. Why is that?" She asked curiously, unknowingly awakening a long forgotten memory in Harry, of one of the arguments Ginny and he had had at the end of their relationship:
[8 years earlier….]
Harry was sat at the kitchen table, a large glass of Firewhiskey in hand; it was 10pm and he had been home from work around fifteen minutes, already Ginny was back on her usual rant:
"I just don't understand why you would prefer to stay to here, instead of finding somewhere that we can call ours?" she said, for what Harry felt was the hundredth time, and he responded the same way he always had:
"Because this is my home: this is my house and I'm not going to sell it. Ever. So what is the point of buying another house, that I am not going to need or use?"
"Because it would be ours" Ginny stressed, "And we would use it, we would live there. And I wouldn't feel like an unwanted house guest who has outstayed her welcome"
"Ginny, you know that's not true-"
"Don't try and tell me how I feel, Harry!" she cut him off, hotly, "And don't tell me I'm crazy, either. Your house-elf doesn't like me, and he certainly doesn't recognise me as your significant other,"
"How on earth did you reach that conclusion?" Harry asked, incredulously,
"He calls me 'Miss Ginny'." Harry looked at her blankly, so she elaborated, "'Miss Ginny'," she reiterated, "Not 'Mistress', just 'Miss'!"
Harry could help himself, and he laughed, "Seriously?"
"Don't laugh at me, Harry!" Ginny shouted, slamming her hand on the table in frustration and hurt,
"I'm sorry, but that is ridiculous. He doesn't call anyone 'Mistress', Ginny. You didn't inherit this house, therefore you didn't get his allegiance with it: The only woman he will ever call 'Mistress', will be the woman who shares my Surname" He spoke tiredly, as if his patience was starting to wear thin on the ground,
Ginny looked at him for a few seconds, her mood slowly darkening, then spoke quietly, "He calls Hermione 'Mistress' whenever he talks of her," she stated barely above a whisper. Harry looked down at his glass upon hearing Hermione's name, took a large drink, and didn't say anything.
Ginny shook her head and let out a breath of disbelieving laughter, "He calls Hermione 'Mistress'," she repeated, almost bitterly, "And she hasn't even set foot in this place for how long? Nearly two years?"
"Two years and four months" Harry whispered, barely audible, though Ginny still caught every word; she gave another disbelieving laugh.
"You're in love with her" Realisation hit Ginny, and she couldn't keep the acidic incredulity out of her voice, "You're in love with her, you have been for years. And even the goddamn elf recognises it before I do. Before we do. Are we the only ones in denial about it?" she asked. Harry never responded, he never even looked up, and in that split second Ginny made her choice, a decision she wasn't even expecting to make:
"I'm going to pack up what few things I have here and I'm going to leave tonight." She stated, Harry still didn't look up from his drink, though she thought she saw him nod slightly, so she continued, "I can't make this work, not when you are in love with someone else – regardless of whether or not she is here in person, she is here in spirit, and three in a relationship is one too many for me."
With that she turned and walked out, Harry heard her leave through the front door a half hour later: he hadn't moved an inch, he didn't have the energy to fight for a relationship, not when he was fighting every second to avoid the black hole of despair ready to swallow him whole should he ever for a moment begin to think that Hermione might never return.
###
"Harry?" Hermione's voice brought him back to the present,
"Hmm?"
"Are you ok?" She asked, frowning slightly,
"Yeah," he shook himself out of his reverie, "Sorry, I just forgot," he tried to explain, "You're right, you are the only one he calls 'Mistress'," he clarified, "And you're not the first person to notice,"
"Oh?" Hermione questioned,
"Yeah, it used to be a bit of a sore point for Ginny at one time" Harry admitted,
"Oh," Hermione became silent contemplating this new piece of information, which consequently made all her anxieties about the morrow come back to her, slightly heightened. As ever, it seemed Harry appeared to know exactly what Hermione was thinking. He pulled her into him, and kissed her forehead,
"Don't worry about it, this was years ago, all water under the bridge." Seeing Hermione's tension not leaving, he turned her face towards him and kissed her gently, but passionately on the lips, he felt her smile against his lips and pulled her closer deepening the kiss even more. Moments later he pulled back slightly, and leaning his forehead against her hers, he said "How about we leave the wine, and just head to straight to bed?" he asked, his voice slightly husky from desire, Hermione smiled even more,
"That sounds like an excellent idea."
###
Christmas Morning dawned, bright but cold, a fine level of snow blanketed the ground, and the thick white clouds covering the sky seemed to promise the prospect of more snow before the day was out.
At 11am, on the dot, Harry and Hermione apparated side by side into the garden of The Burrow, walking up the path Hermione took a deep calming breath. Harry halted at the door, before going through he gently squeezed Hermione's hand,
"Are you ready?" He asked her quietly, feeling the waves of anxiety rolling off her,
"No" she answered truthfully, "But I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be. Now or never right?" she asked, rhetorically, Harry laughed, and tried to reassure her;
"You'll be fine, and I'll be right here next to you the whole time, if you need me." He unclasped their hands and draped his arm around her shoulders, kissing her head, he spoke quietly, "It will be easier than you're imagining. I love you" he finished, the words coming out unexpectedly yet naturally,
"I love you too," she responded, hardly thinking, Harry smiled,
"You realise that's the first time we've said that to each other?" he asked,
"Yes, but right now, I have bigger issues; like seeing my friends for the first time after I abandoned them ten years ago" Hermione answered dryly, and Harry laughed again, Hermione turned to him,
"Do I look ok?" she asked,
"You look beautiful," As Hermione smiled, the door opened from the inside and George appeared in the doorway,
"Are you two planning on crossing the threshold anytime soon? Only mum is going frantic, wanting to see you, and worrying that you're going to get pneumonia if you stay out here any longer."
Hermione laughed in spite of herself, but her nerves were the worst she had ever felt, and it must have showed on her face, for George, without ceremony, threw his arms round her and pulled her into a rob-crushing hug, speaking quietly in her ear;
"Take a breath, we've all missed you, so mum will smother you; Ginny is a tad hormonal, so there is no telling what she will do, but we're all waiting to see you, you will be fine."
"Thanks, George," she said with a smile as they pulled apart, "It's really good to see you,"
"You too. And I'm glad to see you're looking well. Right, come on." He said, remembering the reason he had come out in the first place, "Lets get this show started."
When Hermione entered the kitchen, everything looked the same as it had the last time she was here: Arthur was sat at the scrubbed wooden table, while Molly was busy fussing over the many pots and pans boiling and bubbling away: the smell of Molly's cooking made Hermione's stomach growl.
"Finally dragged them in from the cold" George announced; Arthur looked up from his book, a large smile graced his features,
"Hermione," he said, raising from his seat, "It's so good to have you back," he came round the table and gave her a brief hug, by which time, Molly had abandoned the cooking and made her way over; wrenching Hermione from Arthur's grasp, she pulled her into an even tighter hug and started crying on Hermione's shoulder;
"Oh, it's so good to have you home again," then pulling back, she attempted to put on a stern, motherly look, through the tears, "Don't you ever run off like that again," she scolded,
"I won't Molly. And I'm so sorry I did it in the first place," Hermione said timidly, not meting Molly's eyes. Molly pulled her into yet another bone-crushing hug. Over Molly's shoulder, Hermione was able to see to the doorway leading out of the kitchen, a moment before it had been empty, but now a very-pregnant Ginny was framed there, a young boy hiding behind her leg, clearly unsure about who was the source of all the disturbance.
Hermione gently pulled herself out of Molly's grasp, took a deep breath, and stepped around to face Ginny,
"Hi Ginny," She said nervously, Ginny didn't smile, but she didn't scowl either; she was keeping a well preserved mask in place,
"Hi Hermione," she answered, courteously, "You're blonde," she stated, gesturing to Hermione's hair,
Hermione smiled, "Yeah, well more caramel than blonde. But definitely lighter than my natural colour" she answered nervously,
"Did it help?" Ginny asked bluntly,
"Help?"
"Did changing your hair colour help you move on from us, make everything alright?" she asked dryly
"Not really," Hermione answered slowly, "It was a spur of the moment decision, but I like the result"
"Which result? The colour, or the apparent amnesia?"
"Okay," Harry interrupted, sensing an outburst any moment now, intending to head Ginny off before she really built up her steam. Taking the other bag from Hermione, he walked over to Ginny, "Why don't we move back into the sitting room, Ginny; George and Arthur can accompany us. Molly, Maybe Hermione can give you a hand in the kitchen?"
"Of course," Molly acquiesced, cottoning on to Harry's intentions immediately, she turned to Hermione, "I wouldn't mind the extra help,"
Ginny allowed herself to be steered back into the sitting room, but not without a snort of laughter, saying as she went, "Yeah right, you just want to get me out of the way so I don't snap at Hermione. Blame it on the hormones."
Hermione bit her lip, guiltily, but couldn't help but smile as she turned to Molly. Before Hermione could ask where her assistance was needed, Molly spoke up,
"Don't worry too much about Ginny, she's very close to her due date, and her hormones are even worse this time around. Chances are she'll be crying on your shoulder by the end of the day."
Hermione laughed, "I don't know, if I remember rightly, she can really hold out on a grudge when she sets her mind to it."
"You have a point there, dear. Can I trouble you to get those glasses down from the top shelf, just over there? Now you're here we may as well open the wine, and get the festivities flowing," Molly asked, turning back to check on one of the many simmering saucepans,
"Of course," Hermione turned, and took a chair over to the large cabinet, climbing up she was able to reach the very top shelf, taking down two glasses she called back, "How many are we needing?"
"Eight, please dear," Molly called, turning back to Hermione, she frowned, "Hermione, what on earth are you doing?"
"Getting the glasses down," Hermione answered, slightly confused, "Am I getting the wrongs ones?"
"No, no, but if you can't reach them, why don't you use your wand?"
Hermione laughed, and blushed ever so slightly, "Erm, I actually forgot." Hermione answered, becoming more embarrassed by the second, "I've gotten so used to functioning without magic, and functioning in the muggle world, it's second nature to do things the muggle way. I'm sorry,"
Molly laughed, "Don't apologise," she assured her, as Hermione stepped down, placed the two glassed on the sideboard, then pulled out her wand to summon the remaining six, "Tell me about this muggle village you've been living in, and your business – though, perhaps we ought to wait for others, I'm sure they're all dying to know about your life in the north."
As Hermione and Molly prepared a round of drinks in the kitchen, Harry was trying to reason with Ginny in the living room, "Just try not jump down her throat too hard, Gin, she's terrified as it is,"
"Well, that's what a guilty conscience will do to you," Ginny retorted, then sighed "But fine. I'm only bitter because I've missed her" she qualified,
"We know, but Hermione will think you just pissed at her: and before you say it, she is expecting you all to be pissed at her, she believes she deserves it" Harry told her, Ginny simply raised her eyebrows,
"Well…"
"Enough" Arthur spoke quietly, "Now, lets go bring her in, she can't hide in the kitchen forever," he left his seat as he spoke, and went into the kitchen, returning moments later closely followed by Molly and Hermione, who carried a tray of glasses, and a bottle of wine between them. Setting the tray onto the coffee table, Hermione seated herself on the sofa, in the spare seat next to Harry. Ginny was sat on the chair facing her, her husband perched on the arm at her side, her son playing by her feet. George sat himself on the sofa on the other side of Harry, and Molly took the other armchair near the fire. Arthur poured the wine, handing round the glasses (handing out orange juice to Ginny and her son), and then proceeded to his seat, next to Molly.
Before an uncomfortable silence could ensue, George introduced Ginny's husband, suddenly recalling that Hermione had never met him, "Hermione, this is Robert. Ginny say's he's her other half, I personally think he's her better half." He said with a smirk, to which Ginny responded by sending her son's toy flying at George's head, as Rob leaned over to shake Hermione's hand smiling,
"Hi," Hermione spoke, her throat a little dry from nerves,
"Hey, good to finally meet you. You can call me Rob, and this is Declan, our son" he gestured to the child at there feet, "He's a little shy now, but once the sugar gets in his system in a few hours time, you'll be relishing this silence,"
Hermione laughed, as George spoke again, "Right, now we're all her, spill it Granger," he commanded genially, "Tell us all about your muggle coffee shop and book store."
Hermione spent the next few hours detailing everything she could about Robin Hood's Bay and Whitby, about her coffee shop – Mr Weasley was particularly interested about all the muggle contraptions she used, and she spent a good deal of time trying to explain all the internal workings of her coffee machine, promising him to let him see the thing in person and demonstrate how it worked. With George she spent near a half hour discussing the business management side of her store; her incomings and outgoings, her plans for the future of her business. Throughout her recital, Hermione became more relaxed, helped infinitely by Harry, who maintained his presence at her side continually; before too long his arm was over the back of the couch, draping round her shoulders, the pair leaning into each other naturally - while this movement was unconsciously done by Harry and Hermione, everyone else in the room noticed the subtle movement, yet never said a word, not wanting to bring back the awkwardness so recently left. The only person to remain silent – excepting when she spoke to her son or her husband – was Ginny, and she remained silent, until dinner was served.
Hermione was sat between Harry and Ginny at the dinner table, and in the first lull in the conversation, as everyone was taking their first bites of Mrs Weasley's fabulous cooking, Ginny finally spoke,
"Why Hermione?" she asked quietly, causing a hush over the already quiet table,
"Sorry?" Hermione said, unsure what exactly Ginny was asking,
"Why?" She repeated, "Why did you leave and not speak to us for ten years?"
Hermione took a breath, but it was Harry who answered, "Come on Ginny, do we have to do this now?"
"Yes, Harry," Ginny flared up, leaning as much around Hermione as her pregnant belly enabled her, "I want to know why she abandoned us. After ten years of silence and worry, I think I deserve some sort of answer, don't you?"
Hermione put her hand on Harry's thigh, as Ginny leaned back into her chair, "It's ok," she said, and turned back to Ginny in time to se her take a deep steadying breath as she rubbed her lower stomach: no one else seemed to have noticed this brief moment before Ginny collected herself, so Hermione continued, "I was expecting this since the moment I walked through the door: You're right, you deserve an explanation, the best I can give you,"
Hermione then went on to bare her soul, telling her story as she had told Harry months ago, when he had first found her: she once again relived those first few weeks of her disappearance, her initial intention to return, her spontaneous property purchase, and the snowball effect her avoidance of returning had manifested into.
All throughout her tale, every eye of the family was upon her; Hermione's eyes however, were constantly flicking to her friend beside her, who every now a then would breath in and out deeply, but calmly, and rub her swollen stomach. By the time Hermione had finished her story, they were onto desert: as the others cleared the dinner course, and went about setting for desert Hermione turned to Ginny, and whispered quietly,
"You can decide whether or not I'm forgiven later, but first you need to tell me how long you've been in labour."
Ginny looked at her surprised, but surprise soon gave way to derision,
"Still the same, you're always miles ahead of everyone else, noticing what everyone else misses."
"Are you ok? Shouldn't we maybe tell someone and get you to hospital?"
Ginny waved her hand in dismissal, "Don't worry about it, my water's haven't even broke, I've got ages yet."
Hermione shook her head as the rest of the family returned to the table, desert being served along the way, "Still as stubborn as always," Hermione smiled.
As they all tucked in to a sublime Christmas Pudding, George spoke up, wearing his trademark mischievous grin, "So, now we know all about your years in exile up in the remote corners of Yorkshire, let's get down to the real gossip. You and Harry, are you finally a couple yet? In it for long haul?" he asked outright, bringing a deafening silence to the table, broken only by Hermione who was almost choking on the pudding she had just about inhaled, clearing her throat, she reached for her drink as George continued,
"Ahhh, judging by the slight embarrassment and awkwardness between you two, you haven't actually had that conversation yet have you?" George inquired with a wicked grin. Harry responded simply with a glare, Hermione brought her glass to her mouth and whispered to Ginny, "Now would be a really good moment for a pregnancy related diversion, I'm thinking you could maybe mention you contractions," Hermione begged, before taking a mouthful of wine,
"Good" Ginny said quietly, "I think I can help, my waters have just broken"
Hermione sprayed the wine across the table, causing a stir with the rest of the family, "Are you sure?" she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down,
"I think I'd know, check the chair if you like," Ginny snapped,
"What's going on?" asked George,
"My water's have broke, I'm in labour" Ginny stated, bringing the house into a total state of confusion.
A/N: The long awaited Weasley Christmas, I hope it has lived up to expectations. I realise there hasn't been much conversation, definitely a lot less than I had originally anticipated...but Ginny is now in a labour, quite a long labour...which means a lot of time in the waiting room for Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys in the next chapter :)
Let me know your views, I'm working on the next chapter now, I hopefully won't have you waiting to long, I'll try and keep it to a week at the most.
xBx