My Heart, My Home by lonelywriter

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 20/04/2005
Last Updated: 20/04/2005
Status: Completed

Sweet nothings, early in the morning...




1. My Heart, My Home
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**A/N**: *Hello all, its good to be back after a long hiatus of working on just academic
projects! I apologise for no updates in quite a while (erm, if people are still concerned :p) but I
have two one-shots up, and will get the next chapter to Number One Girl and a few other one-shots
up soon, hopefully around the weekend!*

*Take care all!*

************

She simply couldn’t help it.

Hermione sighed as she continued to stare. It was hypnotic and addictive *not to mention
robbing me of my sleep on a regular basis*, she thought wryly, but there was no way she could
stop.

The object of her unwavering stare gave off a soft snore and stirred sleepily, attempting to get
its wayward legs back under the cover of the warm blankets that she was sharing as well.

Hermione grinned fondly at the scene before her and blinked back tears that always came unbidden
as she cherished every movement made by her husband that showed off his sweet and vulnerable
side.

*My Harry*, she mused, reaching out a hand to tenderly smooth the furrowed brow which
relaxed at once at her touch. He always looked so young when he slept, blissfully unaware of the
pressures that the waking world would undoubtedly place on them with each advancing day. *At
least those blasted nightmares are over*, she thought fervently and then shuddered as she
remembered nights upon nights of listening to the most horrific screams and desperate moans
emanating from the boy she had fallen in love with so long ago and who had now gone on to become
her husband and the ringleader of their mischievous fearsome fivesome.

That last thought made her giggle softly and she trailed the fingers on his brow very gently
across his face. She lingered on his eyelids, tapped the sides of his nose softly, rubbed his fine,
chiseled cheekbones and finally stopped on his lips. Her eyes roamed his face, taking it in yet
again, a great wave of love threatening to send her into sobs, and she involuntarily grinned at the
headlines that had graced the wizarding world when she and Harry had announced their engagement. A
million hearts could be heard breaking around the world for weeks and Hermione planted a possessive
kiss on his forehead as she affirmed her love for him in her mind once more; *my Harry, my sweet
adorable Harry*.

Her fingers drifted upwards automatically towards the famous scar that was no longer red and
angry but a mere strip of lightning shaped skin that was only slightly darker than the surrounding
skin and well and truly healed. She moved to place another kiss on that mark and drew back to find
her husband blinking away his sleep and gazing questioningly at her.

He smiled teasingly, albeit with a hint of sleep still dancing about his face, ‘I knew I
shouldn’t have watched that movie with Ron yesterday. Too many veelas; I was just having the most
amazing dream,’ he trailed off with a naughty grin.

Hermione pouted, ‘So it’s the veelas in your dream, is it?’ Then her expression changed to one
of utmost amusement and she began to giggle, ‘I don’t think I’ll forget the Quidditch World Cup
where you and Ron saw the veelas for the first time. Oh God! It was hilarious; there you were, two
randy fourteen year olds, just about ready to jump over the railing and make your way into the
stadium!’ Her giggles turned to soft laughter and she clapped a hand to her mouth in order to keep
quiet.

Harry rolled his eyes and waggled a finger at her, ‘I’ll have you know,’ he began with as much
dignity as a man who had just woken up from sleep could muster, ‘that I was not randy and was not
at all about to leap into the stadium as you put it- that was Ron.’ He sniffed contemptuously,
daring his wife to contradict him.

Hermione simply smirked and thwapped his shoulder playfully, ‘Oh yes, dear. You were so calm
that I had to hold onto your robes and pull you back not to mention the fact that you already had a
foot on the railings and looked pretty silly when the effects fell off. Oh yes, that’s only Ron
alright.’

Harry laughed along with her, both mindful to keep the noise quiet – their children had a most
amazing ability to interrupt their sleep if they so much as caught a whiff that anything funny was
occurring anywhere and he definitely did not need his brood to come charging in when he, erm, was
not very decently dressed.

And of course, he thought looking at his wife, as a rougish grin crept across his face, that
sheet doesn’t conceal all that much of her…

‘Harry, you randy wizard! Get your mind out of the gutter!’

‘Huh?’ Harry snapped his eyes away from his wife’s chest where the sheet’s strategic location
was giving him a rather tantalizing hint of just what may possible be under it and dragged them
back to his wife’s hazel eyes which twinkled with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

She smiled slyly. ‘Those veelas still dancing in your head, then?’

Harry reached out and lovingly tucked a lock of tangled hair behind her ear. ‘Not at all, love.’
His fingers moved in an unconscious imitation of his wife’s earlier movements and he stroked her
cheek, ‘especially as I have the most alluring veela I could ever possibly want, with me right
here.’ He leaned up to press a gentle kiss to her cheek and drew back in alarm to see slow tears
flowing down it and its partner.

‘Hermione, what’s wrong?’ he queried softly, aware that her tears were increasing and she was
hitching her breath. He sat up against the veritable sea of pillows that Hermione insisted on
having ever since they had started a family (you never knew which child was going to need a night
of comfort with his/her parents) and drew her to him in a firm embrace. He gasped as she tightly
wound her arms around his waist. Hearing her muttering, he strained to hear her words.

‘Those stupid, miserable, pathetic, imbecilic Dursleys, if I ever get my hands on them again,
I’ll…I’ll…’

Fresh sobs choked her and Harry sighed, feeling a great wave of love wash over him.

‘Darling,’ he began tilting her face up and forcing her to look up into his eyes again, ‘That
was a long time ago, dear heart.’ He tenderly wiped her tears and then placed a comforting kiss on
either eyelid. ‘It doesn’t hurt anymore, love, especially now that I have you and the kids in my
life. Please, don’t do this to yourself.’

Hermione sat up completely and Harry realized that the barrage of tears had soaked into her thin
nightshirt and was making her shiver. She shook her head violently and hiccupped, ‘I just can’t
Harry! I just cannot! I simply cannot believe vermin like that even existed, let alone be members
of the human race!’ She leaned forward again and let her fingers trail his face. ‘When I saw what
they had been doing to you, and oh Harry, in spite of that, you’ve become such a wonderful,
beautiful man, I…I love you so much, and I wish I could have taken all that way, I really wish! Do
you have any idea how just two words from you can make my entire day seem so much better?’

Harry kissed her forehead and grinned warmly, ‘Is that so? Well, I imagine its exactly like what
your words do to me, then.’ Schooling his features into a serious expression, he affirmed, ‘You
*did* take my pain away, love. When you came barging for me that summer after fifth year…I
still cannot believe that you actually just came charging in and ordered the Dursleys about… I
don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for it. You did what even the great Dumbledore’ – here,
Harry snorted as Hermione sighed, he had never quite regained the blind trust that he had placed in
the aging wizard prior to their fifth year – ‘and the Order were reluctant to do, all that is,
except Remus.’

‘I was able to come and get you only with his help, Harry. Remus has always been there for us,
you know and he became the father that I was truly needing…’ she trailed off, a mixture of a
grimace and a rueful smile on her face and Harry knew that she was mentally reliving her parents’
divorce – a necessary result of her father’s abominably numerous extra-marital affairs. Her mother
had to be hospitalized from shock and Hermione had never spoken to her father whom she now hated
with an absolute passion that dwarfed her husband’s animosity to Voldemort. Over the many years,
Harry had held his girlfriend, fiancée and wife from barely lynching her father whenever she
happened to see him. He did agree with her – David’s treatment of Jane Granger, a woman that Harry
had come to immensely cherish and admire was nothing short of abhorrent. If it hadn’t been for her
unwavering support and Remus’s patient guidance, both he and Hermione would have mercilessly
struggled, given that they were trying to cope with numerous issues all throughout their last years
at Hogwarts and the resounding defeat of Voldemort right on their graduation day.

A school to run, the wizarding world to be rebuilt, Voldemort’s demise, Harry’s personal demons,
Hermione’s sorrows, the results of the Dursley’s abuse, Jane Granger’s treatment, and not the least
– discovering their love for each other.

*Or at least, me discovering my love for her*, he thought *sarcastically. It only took me
so long to see it*. Hermione had fallen in love with him their seventh year but he had
reciprocated her love completely by uttering the momentous words only three years after they
graduated, and two years and a half years after his return from a self-imposed solitude.

‘I also never thanked you for waiting for me,’ he whispered, even as he drew her back into his
arms and hugged her to his chest. Hermione leaned back to look at him and smiled through her tears,
‘you silly, silly man…don’t you see, there was no way I couldn’t not wait for you, I was so in love
with you’, she shuddered involuntarily, ‘although, well, I did wonder at times if you would ever
love me,’ she trailed off, her voice small and quivering and once again Harry found himself hating
the fact that he had put her through four long years of pain.

‘No Harry, now its you that shouldn’t be doing this to yourself’, she remonstrated gently and
his unfocused eyes came back to train on her face, expectantly peering up at him from against his
chest.

‘But, oh God, I can’t help it,’ he stuttered weakly. ‘I…I cannot imagine what I put you through
then. You were studying and coping with your parents’ situation and you took care of me after the
war and supported me through my treatment later on and all this time, oh Hermione, there you were
and I never even noticed, and honestly, its not because you weren’t pretty or anything, but I was
so, so tired and well, you were *you* and it never occurred to me….’

‘Hush, love,’ she interrupted, rolling her eyes and placing a finger on his lips. ‘I was there
remember? I saw everything and I never thought you absolutely had to reciprocate whatever I felt.’
Taking his chin softly in her hand, she tilted his face to directly face hers, ‘I did whatever I
had to do, because I love you Harry. My concern at that time was to make sure that you were safe
and healthy and I was ready to go to hell and back for that.’ She leaned forward and gently kissed
his scar again, shuddering as she recalled those torturous first weeks of his rehabilitation.

It was the first two weeks after the official defeat of Voldemort that held nothing less than
soul shattering shocks for Ron and especially, Hermione. Her mother was of course struggling and
while Remus had assured her that he would care for Harry along with help from Ron, Luna, Neville
and Ginny, and that she should be with her mother, Hermione simply couldn’t bear it. She shuttled
between her mother and Harry and oh! That horrible day when Ron had stumbled out into the ward
corridor and retched into a hastily conjured bucket not ten inches from her was engraved in her
mind. She simply stared, stunned as he weakly attempted to pull himself together and vaguely
gestured behind him to Harry’s private room, ‘He…he….abused…Dursleys….bloody pigs…whipped
him….cupboard….eleven years…’

It had been a day Hermione would forever remember. Free from Voldemort’s clutches, the demons
engendered by the Dursleys now roamed merrily inside his head and for the first time Harry Potter,
The-Boy-Who-Lived, was painfully coming to accept the scope and the circumstances of his physical
and mental abuse at the hands of his *relatives* whom Ron and Hermione could have cheerfully carved
and fed to the Dementors themselves.

‘Hermione, Hermione? Where did you go love?’ Hermione snapped away from her reverie to find her
husband smirking at her and waving his hand ridiculously. She sniffed, giving him a watery smile
and then stroked his cheek again.

‘I was thinking about when Ron and I found out about the Dursleys…finally.’ Her voice was full
of emotion but Harry detected the undercurrent of resentment and sighed. He knew that Ron and
Hermione were torn between anger and horror that he had never told them the story and if things
hadn’t gone the way they did, he probably would not have told them ever. He sighed again and spoke
quietly, ‘I..are you still mad at me, Hermione? I have apologized before, look I am sorry that I
didn’t tell you and Ron, but there was so much going on and Voldemort and it was my
responsibility..’

‘Harry James Potter, what have I told you about the ‘its my responsibility’ rubbish before?’
Hermione’s eyes blazed in spite of the tears that were still flowing, albeit more gently and her
mouth was set firmly. ‘What did we decide about this?’ Her voice had gone deceptively soft and
Harry gave a lopsided grin, putting his arms up in surrender.

‘I’m sorry, love.’ He whispered and then swiftly leaned in to kiss her. They fell back on the
pillows and Hermione pulled away breathlessly.

‘That’s not fair’, she panted. ‘That’s cheating; you know I can’t think when you kiss me.’

‘Tough luck.’ Harry smiled. ‘It’s not like I am going to stop anytime soon.’

Hermione sighed. ‘Harry’ she cradled his face, ‘I meant what I said to you that day in St
Mungo’s. You are not alone. You never have been ever since you came to Hogwarts. Please, please
know that. Ron cares so much and so do I…’

Harry’s voice was quiet. ‘I was worried that Ron wouldn’t want anything to do with me after
fourth and fifth year.’

Hermione hugged him. ‘We were only fourteen back then, darling. And Ron may have been initially
jealous but I saw how it was killing him to be away from you. He may be an immature prat, but he’s
an adorable and loyal prat all the same.’ She giggled.

Harry rolled his eyes but his expression was wistful and he nodded, ‘Yes, I know. I am grateful
to have friends like you and Ron and not to mention Neville, Luna and Ginny.’

‘Yes and we are so lucky to have you amongst us’ She reached up and entwined her arms more
firmly around his neck and pulled him down even further. ‘I was so scared’ her voice trembled, ‘I
was so scared throughout the years that I would lose you, that you would never know I loved you so
much and that you…that you would find someone else…and there I would be, the best friend cheerfully
waving goodbye…’ She ended on a strangled sob and Harry sighed as he pulled her close and pressed
his cheek to hers.

‘Hush love, don’t say things like that. You would never have been far from my life. I think on
some level I always wished that I would be with you at the end. You had shared so much with me and
it just didn’t seem right that any other woman could ever know me more than you…I love you, so very
much, ok?’

He kissed the tear stained cheek softly and Hermione gave off a slight laugh. She peered around
him to look at the clock and grimaced, ‘Ugh! Its time to be up in an hour’s time. The kids will be
up soon as well, please go and start breakfast?’ She pouted in a practiced gesture that she knew
her husband found irresistible.

Sure enough, he rolled his eyes and shook a finger jokingly at her, ‘Don’t you dare start with
that face, missus. You get your way enough around the house as it is.’ Then he leaned in and kissed
her eyelids. ‘Get some more sleep ok, I’ll wake you when breakfast’s done. You’ve had a rough
couple of nights at work.’

Hermione smiled lovingly and rubbed her eyes tiredly, ‘Thanks, darling. These night shifts are
ridiculous although I only took it up because Madame Pomfrey needed extra help at Hogwarts and St
Mungos. Thank goodness yesterday was the last one.’

She gathered all her energy and leaned up for a quick peck, then promptly fell back, already
asleep, her chest moving in even breaths, indicative of peaceful slumber.

Harry stared at her, recalling nights where she hadn’t slept throughout, staying up because of
him and soothing him relentlessly, holding him all the time and tirelessly working to cure him of
the demons that had haunted him for so much of his life. And now she had married him and given him
five wonderful children.

As he tucked her in and carefully made his way downstairs, Harry knew that he had been wrong
about Hogwarts. He had always looked upon the school as his home, but the truth was that home was
where his heart was and his heart was snoring lightly away upstairs. He laughed softly and threw
open the kitchen windows, breathing in the brisk chillness of the early morning air. A wondrous
blend of pink and orange hues were daintily creeping across the sky and as he set the kettle to
boil water for the morning tea, he heaved a grateful sigh,

‘My heart, my home.’



