"Are you certain you want to do this?," Harry asked her, blowing on his stew to cool it off.
Hermione nodded slowly, blowing on her own food as well.
They sat at her small table by the window on a dreary Friday night in her flat in the Professors Wing at Hogwarts.
She had called Harry because she knew it would be less awkward than trying to talk to Ginny about her plan.
"Then you know I support you whatever you want to try; whatever you choose to do," he said, with a moment's hesitation that she picked up on.
She chewed on the meat and carrots thoughtfully for a moment.
"I know I seem mental, but it's not just me anymore," she said, turning her head to nod at the bassinet in the corner. "It's Rose as well, and…," her voice faltered for a moment before she resumed. "It's become clear that I can't do this alone."
Harry let out a sigh and pushed back in his chair.
"You know, Hermione…we can all do more. To help you, if it's what you're worried about."
"You know it isn't Harry. Everyone's been wonderful."
Harry stood and walked over to the window, looking out at the dark night. He waited for a moment before speaking. His voice had grown quiet.
"Then why?"
Hermione exhaled slowly, pushed her seat back and joined him at the window.
"I can't explain it, but I'll try." She turned to Harry, thinking he would interject, but he merely studied her face, his brow furrowed.
Hermione turned away, moving back to the table and sat down again.
"He…he isn't such a monster."
Harry turned back to her and opened his mouth as if to speak. Hermione held up her hand.
"No, please. I have to say this all at once or I'll never get it out…, " she paused thoughtfully. "I know he isn't a good man. I know he isn't a lot of things. But he is Rose's father and he is…or he was…at least trying to make things work."
Her eyes drifted to Harry's as he studied her silently.
"I hate to say this, because it sounds so terribly cliche, but…he's changed…"
"Hermione, he's a Death Eater. He's not a good person."
"Yes, but-,"
Harry strode to the table, sitting down across from her. "I need you to listen to me, now. Just for a moment."
He cleared this throat and leaned his weight on his forearms on the small table, after pushing the stew to the side. "Look, I know you know all about Stockholm Syndrome because you know about everything. But I think you've been locked away with this man for so long it's done something to you. The Hermione I know would think it well and good that he's rotting away in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable life. So, no, I don't understand why you're even considering it."
"Harry," she started, her hand reaching across the table to rest atop his. "I understand about all that. And I've considered it. I know you think I'm completely mental, but he is Rose's father. There's nothing I can do to change that. I'm not saying I want to marry the man, I just want my Rose to have some semblance of a family-"
Harry pulled his hands away abruptly. "Yes, of course Hermione, but have you not considered that he might not be setting a shining example for your little girl?"
Hermione felt a tear in the corner of her eye. He didn't understand; he couldn't. And she hadn't really expected him too, she supposed under everything. It was far too great of an ask from her friend. She shifted her weight back and away from him. Like everything lately, she'd have to do this alone.
"Harry, of course you're right. He is not the kind of man I want Rose to look up to. But he is her father, she is his blood and I cannot deny her knowing him. I will explain everything to her one day, when she's old enough. But I need the help from him. There's no one else that can help in that regard. Not you, or Ron or any man; I need his help. And it's only right for him to know his daughter. I know I sound like an idiot, but he was so kind to me the last few months. The only reason I'm alive is because he brought me into St. Mungo's, knowing the entire Wizarding World was out looking for him."
"Hermione," Harry started quietly after a pause. He looked down at his hands, his forearms resting on his thighs. "Look, I'm your friend. Whatever you do, I'll always be your friend. Even if I don't agree. But, I don't know how Gin will feel if you go after him."
Ginny.
"I hoped that she would be able to understand where I'm coming from."
"Yes, but Ron's her brother. You ask too much."
Hermione stood, eyes flashing. She was so tired of everyone judging her, telling her what she would and would not do.
"You have no idea what it's been like. I am not the same girl you knew. She is dead. Dead and gone. I am a different person now. I have a daughter. I have a lover-"
Harry stood as well, defending against her raised voice.
"Fine! But do you even love him? Is that what all this is about? Whether or not you realize it, I'm trying to protect you, yet again. This is a dangerous man you want released into society."
"You protecting me didn't work well the first time and it won't work well now. I don't need protection, I can handle myself."
Harry narrowed his eyes at her.
"Do you love him?"
Hermione felt the tear fall down her cheek. "I…I don't know." After a pause she spoke again. "I'm so sorry Harry, I shouldn't have said that about you protecting me. That was cruel. I know how hard you tried."
"No, no, trust me, it's something I blame myself for every day. I suppose I always will."
"It's not your fault."
Just then Rose started her squalling, obviously upset by the heightened voices. Hermione strode to her, picking her up and lifting her up and down as she knew the baby liked until Rose quieted.
After an awkward moment of silence, Harry reached for his jumper on the chair back. "I think I should probably go."
Hermione's lip quivered. "If that's what you want."
He moved to grab the stew.
"It's ok. I'll handle it."
Harry threw his jumper over his arm and exhaled.
"I don't like leaving like this. But I don't think I'm helping anything."
"It's ok," she started, reaching out a hand to touch his arm lightly. "Truly. We're going to have off days sometimes. That's ok."
"Off days. Sure." He said, rather blankly and then headed towards her door. He stopped once he'd opened it and spoke to her.
"Take care of yourself, Hermione."
She nodded at him as she cradled Rose to her chest, and he exited, pulling the heavy door behind him.
