Hello all, this is a sequel to my sob story fic titled "How it came to this". I recommend reading that first. It will be a one shot and written in Hermione's POV, like a journal.
( s/13675971/1/How-it-Came-to-This )
Disclaimer: All rights to JKR
Past all this
15 years had passed since the loss of Toby, and our lives had taken unexpected turns. Harry and I had grown closer in our shared grief, and our bond had deepened in ways I could never have imagined.
Our relationship had evolved over the years, from the awkward silences and emotional distance that had followed Toby's death to a deep and abiding love. We had learned to lean on each other for support, to share our dreams and fears, and to cherish the moments of happiness that came our way.
After our graduation from Hogwarts, life took us on separate paths, both of us trying to find a way to cope with the immense pain of Toby's loss. We had grown so close during those difficult years at school, but the burden of grief proved too heavy for our young hearts to bear together.
I pursued a career in the Ministry of Magic, throwing myself into my work as a way to distract from the void in my life. Harry, on the other hand, had become an Auror, dedicating himself to maintaining peace and justice in the wizarding world. We rarely saw each other, our lives pulling us in opposite directions.
The pain of Toby's absence was a constant ache. How could I miss something that never even happened? It was a pain that neither of us knew how to heal, and in our shared grief, we began to drift apart. The laughter and camaraderie we had once shared at Hogwarts became distant memories.
It was in our moments of solitude that we found ourselves reliving those memories, replaying the moments we had shared, and yearning for the connection we had lost. We both carried the guilt of our separation, convinced that we had let go of something beautiful in our lives.
One evening, on a rainy night in London, I found myself in a small, dimly lit pub. I had gone there to escape the weight of my loneliness, seeking solace in the familiar comfort of a glass of firewhiskey. As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I felt a presence nearby.
Turning my head, I saw Harry, sitting at the bar a few stools away. The shock of seeing him after so long left me speechless. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, it was as if time stood still.
Harry approached me cautiously, his uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. "Hermione," he said softly, "it's been a long time."
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, it has."
We sat in silence for a while, the weight of our shared history heavy in the air. And then, as if guided by an unspoken understanding, we began to talk. We talked about Toby, about our regrets, and about the love we had lost.
Tears welled up in both our eyes, and we held each other, finding solace in the familiar comfort of each other's presence. In that moment, it became clear that our love had never truly faded; it had simply been buried beneath the pain of our shared loss.
Over the following weeks and months, Harry and I rekindled our connection. We shared our dreams and fears, and slowly, our love began to heal the wounds that had kept us apart. It was a painful journey, but it was one we embarked on together, determined to find our way back to each other.
And so, in that small, dimly lit pub where we had accidentally crossed paths, we discovered that love had a way of finding its way back to us, even in the darkest of times. Our separation had been a painful chapter in our lives, but it had ultimately brought us back together, stronger and more resilient than before.
In each other's arms, we found the love and comfort we had been searching for, and we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as we had always been meant to.
But despite the love that bound us together, the pain of Toby's loss never truly faded. It was a wound that never fully healed, a scar we carried with us every day. We visited Toby's grave every year on the anniversary of his birth and death, a somber but necessary ritual that allowed us to remember him and to grieve together.
As the years passed, we found ourselves surrounded by friends who had become like family. Ron and Luna had married, and their children were a constant source of joy in our lives. Atticus and Link.
Our lives had settled into a comforting routine, filled with both joy and sorrow. And through it all, Harry and I remained by each other's side, finding solace in our shared memories and in the love that had grown between us.
3 years after Toby's tragic passing, Harry and I found ourselves standing before our closest friends and family, ready to exchange vows in a small, intimate ceremony. The pain of Toby's loss still lingered, but we had learned to carry it with us, allowing it to shape our love and our commitment to one another.
The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the outdoor ceremony, held in the garden of the Burrow. Ron and Ginny's home had always been a place of comfort and solace for us, and it felt like the perfect setting for this new chapter in our lives.
I stood there, in a simple yet elegant white gown, my heart filled with a mixture of joy and sorrow. Beside me, Harry looked handsome in his dark suit, his eyes reflecting the same emotions that swirled within me.
As we exchanged our vows, promising to stand by each other's side through all of life's challenges and joys, I couldn't help but think of Toby. He had brought us together, and in his memory, we had found strength and love.
"I promise to love you, Harry, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health," I said, my voice steady but filled with emotion. "I promise to cherish you and to be faithful to you for as long as we both shall live."
Harry's eyes never left mine as he spoke his own vows. "I promise to love you, Hermione, with all my heart, to be there for you in times of joy and sorrow. I promise to support you, to cherish you, and to stand by your side, always and forever."
We exchanged rings, simple bands that symbolized our commitment to each other, and with a kiss, we sealed our vows. Our friends and family erupted into applause, and I couldn't help but smile through my tears.
As the evening continued with laughter, dancing, and toasts, I felt a sense of peace wash over me.
One year after our marriage, my world was thrown into a whirlwind of emotions when I discovered that I was pregnant once again. It was a revelation that I had never anticipated, and it sent a tidal wave of fear and anxiety crashing over me. Harry and I had never discussed the possibility of expanding our family, and the specter of Toby's loss still haunted us, casting a long and dark shadow over our lives.
For two agonizing weeks, I carried the weight of my secret, wrestling with my own emotions, and battling the overwhelming fear that history might repeat itself. I felt like I was standing on the precipice of an abyss, unable to see what lay ahead. I watched Harry, the love of my life, my partner in every sense of the word, and I couldn't help but wonder how he would react.
Finally, one evening, unable to bear the burden of my fear any longer, I approached Harry, my heart pounding in my chest like a frantic drumbeat.
"Harry," I began, my voice trembling, "there's something I need to tell you."
He looked up from the book he was reading, concern instantly etched across his face. "What is it, Hermione?"
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I choked back a sob as I stammered, "I'm pregnant."
Harry's eyes widened, and for a moment, the room felt heavy with silence. Then, with a mixture of shock and surprise, he finally spoke, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "You're... you're pregnant?"
I nodded, unable to find the words to explain the storm of feelings that raged inside me. "Yes, Harry. I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm so scared."
Harry set his book aside, his expression shifting to a mix of disbelief and tenderness. He reached out, taking my trembling hands in his, and his touch brought a strange comfort amidst the storm of emotions. "Hermione, you have nothing to be afraid of," he said, his voice unwavering, his eyes filled with unwavering love and reassurance. "We'll face this together, just like we always have."
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I buried my face in his chest, the weight of my secret finally lifted. "I should have been more careful, Harry. I blame myself for this."
Harry's fingers gently tilted my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes held a deep and unwavering sincerity. "Hermione, this isn't your fault," he whispered, his voice laced with conviction. "It's our child, I know it's scary and we should have been more careful but I have no regrets."
His words were like a soothing balm, and I leaned into his embrace, allowing myself to be vulnerable in his presence. We shared a moment of quiet understanding, our love for each other bridging the gap of uncertainty and fear.
As the months passed, our anxiety grew, especially as we approached the time when Toby had been born. Each kick, each movement in my belly, was a source of both joy and a haunting reminder of our shared grief. We held onto each other tightly, our love the anchor that kept us grounded in the midst of uncertainty.
When the day finally arrived for our baby's birth, it was a day filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation. The labor was intense, each contraction a reminder of the pain we had endured in the past. But as the moment of birth drew near, our fear gradually gave way to a cautious sense of anticipation.
And then, as I held our newborn daughter in my arms, tears of relief and joy streamed down our faces. She was healthy, a beautiful gift, and we named her Aurora Lily, referring to her as our rainbow baby. The name carried with it a profound sense of love and hope for the future.
In that moment, as we held our rainbow baby together, we knew that our journey had been marked by pain and loss, but it had also been illuminated by love and resilience. Our family had grown, and we were determined to cherish every moment with our daughter, knowing that love would always be our guiding light
The nursery was bathed in a soft, gentle light from the nightlight, casting subtle shadows on the crib where our newborn daughter, Aurora, lay sleeping. I sat beside the crib, my eyes heavy with exhaustion and my heart overflowing with love. Harry joined me, his hand finding mine, and we both looked down at our precious little girl.
"Another night," I murmured, stifling a yawn. "It feels like we've been doing this forever."
Harry let out a tired chuckle, his gaze never wavering from Aurora. "Parenting is harder than I ever imagined."
I nodded in agreement, my fatigue mixing with an overwhelming sense of adoration. "But it's worth every sleepless night."
Aurora shifted in her crib, and her tiny fingers fluttered in the air. Harry reached out to gently stroke her cheek, his touch as delicate as a whisper. "Hermione," he began, his voice tinged with concern, "I can't help but worry sometimes."
I turned to him, my brow furrowing. "Worry? About what?" Their daughter had made it to their arms safe and healthy.
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on our daughter. "About her, about us. We've been through so much, and now we're responsible for her. What if we make mistakes? What if we can't protect her?"
Reaching out, I took Harry's hand in mine, our fingers interlocking in the dimly lit room. "Harry, it's natural to worry. But look at us, look at everything we've faced together. We're strong, and we love her more than anything in the world. We'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and give her the best life possible."
A small, reassuring smile tugged at his lips. "You're right, Hermione. We'll figure it out."
As we continued to watch over our daughter, I couldn't help but feel the weight of parenthood settle in my heart. Sleepless nights and challenges lay ahead, but in that quiet moment, with Harry by my side and Aurora in our arms, I knew that our love and determination would guide us through it all.
Aurora, our rainbow baby, had indeed brought an abundance of joy and light into our lives. As she grew, her curiosity and laughter filled our home, making each day brighter than the last. She had Harry's emerald green eyes and my unruly curls, a perfect blend of the two of us.
When she turned two our baby boy, Noah, arrived into the world, his resemblance to his father uncanny. His tuft of messy black hair and those same brilliant green eyes had me convinced I was holding a miniature Harry.
We named him Noah Ronald Henry Potter. The middle name, Henry, was a tribute to my late father, who had passed away earlier that year. It felt like a way to keep his memory alive, and Harry wholeheartedly agreed.
One sunny afternoon, Harry surprised me in the most enchanting way. He whisked me away to a beautiful villa nestled in the rolling hills of Tuscany, Italy. It was a dream come true, a place where we could escape the demands of our busy lives and bask in the tranquility of the Italian countryside. We'd frequent this idyllic retreat, often bringing along Aurora and Noah.
As Aurora and Noah grew older, their personalities began to shine through. Aurora, now a spirited and imaginative young girl, had a love for books that rivaled mine. She would often be found with her nose buried in a novel, just like her mother. But she also possessed her father's sense of adventure, always eager to explore the world around her.
Noah, on the other hand, was the spitting image of Harry, both in looks and in his mischievous charm. He had an insatiable curiosity and a boundless energy that kept us on our toes. He was always up for a game of Quidditch in the garden, and his laughter could fill the entire villa with warmth.
Our time in Italy allowed us to connect as a family, creating memories that would last a lifetime. Whether we were strolling through the vineyards, enjoying a picnic in the olive groves, or simply relaxing by the pool, those moments were a testament to the love that had brought us back together after so much pain and heartache.
In that villa, surrounded by the beauty of the Italian landscape, we found solace, happiness, and a sense of belonging that had eluded us for so long. It was a place where the past could be left behind, and our future could unfold, bright and full of promise.
To our astonishment, we were blessed with identical twin boys. The news sent Harry into a minor panic, the thought of raising two newborns simultaneously causing his signature unruly hair to stand on end. He worried about the logistics, the sleepless nights, and the sheer chaos that twins would bring.
I, on the other hand, found comfort in the idea of expanding our family once more. I assured Harry that we would face this challenge together, just as we had faced every other trial in our lives. With his hand in mine, I reminded him that love and support would see us through.
Aurora, our imaginative and spirited daughter, was less than thrilled at the prospect of two new brothers invading her space. She was entering a rebellious 8 year old phase and was becoming a bit of a troublemaker followed by her cousins, testing the boundaries we had set. Harry often found himself at a loss when it came to dealing with her antics.
Noah, our charming 6 year old, on the other hand, was overjoyed at the idea of having not one but two new playmates. He couldn't contain his excitement and eagerly started brainstorming names for his baby brothers.
As the twins' arrival drew nearer, our home buzzed with anticipation and uncertainty. Harry's fears were not unfounded, but we faced them head-on with the same determination that had carried us through life's toughest moments.
The day arrived when our twin boys were ready to make their entrance into the world, and it turned out to be a most harrowing experience of our lives. Harry's expression, usually so steady and resolute, was etched with worry as I lay on the delivery table, surrounded by medical professionals who were working frantically to bring our boys safely into the world.
But complications arose—complications that threatened to rob our family of its heart and soul. I remember hearing snippets of panicked conversations among the medical team, words like "hemorrhaging" and "transfusion" filling the air. Fear gripped me as I felt my strength draining away along with my life's essence.
Harry's face, etched with terror, was the last thing I saw before slipping into unconsciousness. It felt like a darkness closing in, and the world around me faded away.
I awoke in a haze, disoriented and weak, with the distant sounds of beeping machines and muffled voices. The sterile hospital room felt cold and foreign. For a moment, I wondered if I had died, but the gentle squeeze of Harry's hand in mine reassured me that I was still in the land of the living.
Those initial moments of consciousness were a confusing blur. I struggled to piece together what had happened, why I was here, and where our children were. It was Harry who filled in the agonizing details—the complications, the coma, and the fight to keep me alive.
As I held our twin boys in my arms for the first time, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for their healthy arrival, for Harry's unwavering support, and for the second chance at life that I had been given
Harry sat by my side in the hospital room, his fingers gently intertwined with mine as we watched our newborn twins sleep peacefully in their cribs. The room was filled with a sense of both joy and relief, but it was also tinged with the memory of the recent ordeal I had faced during childbirth.
"I can't lose any more family, Mione," Harry whispered, his voice heavy with emotion as he gazed at our sons. His green eyes, so like Toby's, were filled with a mixture of love and sadness.
I turned to look at him, my heart aching at his words. It was a sentiment that echoed my own feelings, a fear that had haunted us ever since Toby's untimely death. We had endured so much pain and loss, and it had left scars that would never truly fade.
"I know, Harry," I replied softly, tears welling up in my eyes. "I can't bear the thought of losing anyone else either. These boys... they complete our family, and I couldn't ask for anything more."
Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving our sons. "I love them so much, Hermione. I love all of our children, and I'll do anything to protect them."
I reached out and touched his cheek, turning his attention back to me. "We've been through so much together, Harry, and we've always found a way to overcome it. But I think it's time we focus on the family we have now and cherish every moment."
He nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're right, as always. Our family is perfect just the way it is."
As we held each other's gaze, our hearts heavy with the memories of our lost son, we made a silent promise to protect the family we had created together. It was a promise born out of love, loss, and the understanding that our greatest treasures were right in front of us.
Naming our newborn twins had proven to be a more challenging task than we had anticipated. Harry and I sat in the cozy living room of our villa in Italy, surrounded by baby name books and lists of potential names. The twins, snugly swaddled in their blankets, lay quietly in their cribs nearby.
Aurora, now my bright and creative young girl, sat on the floor with a notebook and a pencil. She had taken it upon herself to help us find the perfect names for her baby brothers. Noah, peered over her shoulder, offering his own suggestions and giggling at some of the names in the baby name books.
"Okay, how about... James?" Harry suggested, his brows furrowed as he glanced at one of the books.
I shook my head. "No, we already have Toby James. We can't have another James."
Aurora looked up from her notebook. "What about Leo? It's short for Leonardo, like the artist!"
Noah nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Leo is cool!"
Harry and I exchanged a glance and smiled. "Leo," I said softly, testing the name on my lips. "I like it."
Harry turned to me, his eyes filled with warmth. "Leo it is, then."
Aurora and Noah cheered in excitement, their faces lighting up with joy. We had found a name for one of the twins, and it felt right.
"Now, what about his brother?" I asked, looking at the second crib. The other baby, identical in appearance to his brother, cooed softly.
Aurora and Noah exchanged glances, their little minds working together. After a few moments, Aurora spoke up, "How about Ethan? It means strong and firm."
Noah nodded in agreement once more. "Ethan is strong, just like Dad!"
I looked at Harry, a soft smile on my face. "Ethan," I said, testing the name. It felt perfect.
Harry leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Ethan it is. Leo and Ethan."
Our family felt complete, and our hearts were full as we gazed at our newborn sons, Leo and Ethan, surrounded by the love and support of our older children. With their help, we had found the perfect names for our twins, names that held meaning and significance, just like our journey together as a family.
I sat in the sterile doctor's office, my fingers entwined with Harry's. He looked nervously at the door, his leg bouncing with anxiety. We had made the decision together to go through with a vasectomy after the terrifying ordeal during the birth of our twins. I knew it was the right choice for us, but it didn't make the situation any less daunting for Harry.
The doctor, a calm and experienced wizard, tried to ease Harry's tension with a reassuring smile. "Mr. Potter, I assure you this is a routine procedure. You'll be in and out in no time."
Harry let out a shaky breath and nodded. I could see the unease in his eyes, and it tugged at my heart. This was a different kind of fear for him—more personal and vulnerable than any battle he'd ever faced.
I leaned closer to him and whispered softly, "You'll be fine, Harry. It's a small sacrifice for our family's well-being."
He managed a weak smile, and I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. The doctor began explaining the procedure in detail, attempting to alleviate Harry's anxiety with his calm and gentle demeanor.
As the doctor prepared to start, Harry's nervousness was palpable. He shifted uncomfortably on the examination table, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
I continued to offer words of encouragement, my voice a soothing presence in his ear. "You're strong, Harry. You've faced much worse than this."
The doctor began the procedure, and I watched Harry closely, feeling his tension in every muscle. It was over far more quickly than we had anticipated, and Harry let out a long sigh of relief.
As we left the doctor's office, Harry still seemed a bit shaken. I wrapped my arm around his waist, providing the support he needed. "You did great, Harry. I'm so proud of you."
His smile, though weak, was a testament to his courage. We both understood that this was a small price to pay for our family's safety and well-being.
The day had finally arrived when we were to send our baby girl, Aurora, off to Hogwarts. She stood before us, her trunk packed and her new robes pristine. Her excitement was palpable, but so was the nervousness in her eyes.
I tried to keep my composure, but the thought of our little girl leaving for Hogwarts stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me. Harry and I exchanged a glance, and I knew he felt the same.
Aurora, however, was beaming with anticipation. She adjusted her Ravenclaw scarf and said, "I can't believe I'm finally going to Hogwarts!"
Harry knelt down to her eye level and ruffled her hair, a hint of pride in his voice. "You're going to do brilliantly, Rora."
I nodded in agreement, my voice quivering with emotion. "Yes, darling, we're so proud of you."
Noah, who stood next to us, crossed his arms with a playful grin. "I'll be in Gryffindor, just like Dad, you'll see."
Aurora rolled her eyes at her younger brother's competitive streak. "Well, I'm sure Ravenclaw is the perfect house for me."
We chuckled, but it was a bittersweet moment. The bond between our children was strong, and Noah's teasing concealed his sadness at seeing his sister leave. Harry and I shared a knowing look—our family was about to undergo a significant change.
Before she boarded the Hogwarts Express, Aurora hugged us tightly. Her voice was trembling as she said, "I'll write to you every week, I promise."
Harry kissed the top of her head. "We'll be waiting for your letters, Rora."
Once the train departed, we watched it until it disappeared from sight. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized our family was now incomplete without our Ravenclaw witch.
Noah's voice broke through my reverie. "She'll do great, Mum. She's really smart."
I knelt down to his level and pulled him into a hug. "I know, sweetheart. But it's just hard letting go."
He nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'll miss her too."
Returning home to the lively greeting of 3 year old Leo and Ethan, I couldn't help but smile through the tears that had welled up earlier. Molly had been watching over our mischievous twins, and they were beyond thrilled to see us.
As I held my three boys close, Leo, Ethan, and Noah, their laughter and chatter filled the house with warmth and joy. The pain of the past felt like a distant memory at that moment.
I gazed at their bright eyes, each a reflection of their father, and thought of the first baby I had borne, Toby, who would forever hold a special place in my heart. But as I held my three precious boys and thought of my daughter, I realized that life had moved forward. I was past the grief, past the heartache, and fully immersed in the love and happiness that my family brought me.
In the embrace of my husband and the laughter of our children, I knew that we had come a long way since those painful days. Our love had persevered, and we had built a beautiful life together. And as I looked at my boys, my heart swelled with gratitude for the love and joy they had brought into our lives.
Yes, we were Past All This.
-Hermione Jean Potter