Two
Two
Hermione sat in the overstuffed chair of her sitting room, a fire softly crackling before her. Rosalee was asleep on the chaise lounge across the room. She studied her daughter, her eyes roaming over her soft features. She looked so much like Harry that it broke her heart. Her unruly dark hair was somewhere between her curls and Harry’s wild tresses. Her eyes, when open, were all Harry’s though. Her vision blurred with unshed tears. She had closed herself off from the only family she had left, to protect her daughter and her heart. To protect their secret. She stood up with a sigh, pacing the room.
Minerva had set her up in one of the professor’s quarters, a small flat within the castle, complete with a sitting room, a private bath, and two small bedrooms for herself and Rosalee. Hermione went towards the chaise, dragging a small blanket from the back and draping it over the sleeping child. Hermione thought of Harry in every aspect of their daughter, down to her very name. A combination of Rose and Lilly after their mother’s. There were only two people in the world, besides herself that knew Rosalee Jean Granger was actually Rosalee Jean Potter. One being Minerva and the other being her midwife, both swore an unbreakable vow that neither would reveal the true identity of her daughter.
Hermione’s chest ached as she held back her sobs. She would be face to face with Harry in a few short hours. After the forest of Dean, after she obliviated him, she distanced herself. It pained her to do so. The papers had a field day with the story. “GOLDEN TRIO NOT SO GOLDEN!” They continued to smile, do their part of playing the face of the war, at least until Hermione began to show. Then she excused herself from the limelight, sequestering herself into hiding. Harry sent letters, pleas to explain what he did. Each letter more heart wrenching than the last. Each letter she would read, crumpled on the floor as she sobbed. She spoke more to Ron, visited him even, but her friendship with Harry dawdled until it was nearly non-existent. Now they exchanged owls on holidays. She hadn’t seen him in nearly five years or so.
She paced again, glancing at the clock on the stone wall. “Poppy…” She called out, cringing the slightest bit as the pop of the elf echoed in the room. “Yes mistress.” The elf asked politely. Minerva had freed all the elves of the castle once she became head mistress. Offering them a fair wage and accommodations. It still rubbed Hermione the wrong way when she had to call on favors. “Good evening, Poppy, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need to head out and I can’t take Rosalee with me. Would you mind staying with her until I return? You may help yourself to any food or drink you wish or even read something.” She mumbled awkwardly, the tiny elf smiled widely, reminding her of Dobby. She nodded enthusiastically, her ears flopping with the movement. “Oh yes mistress, Poppy would very much like to stay with young mistress.” Hermione smiled and grabbed some floo powder. She wasn’t sure where she was going until she found herself calling out “The burrow” and throwing down the powder.
When Hermione went into hiding, all of her relationships suffered. Not nearly as much as hers and Harry’s but suffered, nonetheless. The burrow was dark when the tinkling alarm of the floo sounded. Standing in the living room of the only place besides Hogwarts that had ever felt like home, guilt flooded her. She was about to turn around when Mrs. Weasley came down the steps, her wand outstretched, “Who is there?” She demanded, Arthur following closely behind. Hermione turned, facing the motherly woman whom she missed immensely throughout the years.
Molly had owled her frequently, although Hermione never responded. It had been several years since she had seen the woman. Molly’s face lit up with surprise as her eyes landed on Hermione. Everything stilled and as a sob pulled from Hermione’s chest, she briefly wondered if they would throw her out. Her doubts were short lived as the woman catapulted herself from the stairs and slammed into Hermione, wrapping her in the tightest hug she had felt in several years. “Oh, my sweet girl” She whispered as she hugged her. The words broke Hermione, and the sobs were no longer held at bay. Her legs gave out and the two women sank to the floor while Hermione cried, and Molly stroked her hair. “Well then…” Arthur said awkwardly from the landing. “I’ll just put on the kettle.”
The three of them sat silently at the table. A mug of steaming tea, cupped between Hermione’s hands. She didn’t know where to begin. It was the quietest Hermione had ever experienced the burrow. Being that Arthur and Molly were now empty nesters; it was unnervingly quiet. Molly broke the silence first, “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you dear…” She trialed off unsurely, “But what brings you by at this hour…after all these years.” The words made Hermione’s eyes well up again and she glanced down in shame. “I really needed a mother right now. I’ve-“She paused and took in a shaky breath, silently wondering how much she was willing to reveal.
Her heart felt so heavy; her mind muddled with doubts. “I’ve really messed things up over the years. I’ve distanced myself for reasons, I’m not sure I can explain.” Molly reached forward and clutched her hand tightly, smiling reassuringly. “My dear, you are just as much my daughter as Ginny is. There is nothing you can do or say that would disappoint me.” Arthur nodded in agreement and their look of love nearly broke Hermione right there. She gently tugged her hand back, lifting the oddly shaped china to her lips and took a tentative sip. “I got a job as a professor at Hogwarts.” She began, figuring that would be the best place to begin. “Oh that’s wonderful news dear” Molly said with a smile and a clap of her hands. “You and Harry will be working together then yeah?” Hermione nodded, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. Molly stilled, “oh… OH…that’s where the issue lies then?” Again, Hermione could only nod. The three sat quietly before the scrape of Molly’s chair broke the silence. She rounded the table and pulled Hermione into another tight hug. “Whatever it is darling…” She began and Hermione shook her head, “He won’t ever forgive me Molly, once he learns what I’ve done.” She clutched the matriarch against her tightly, unwilling to let go of the comfort she craved for so long. “There is nothing you could have done that Harry would not forgive you for. The two of you have been best friends for so long.” Molly said. Hermione groaned, “I obliviated him.” She whispered. Her voice muffled in Molly’s arms. “What? When?”
Hermione sighed, finally releasing Molly. She glanced over to find that Arthur had left, giving the two women some privacy. Molly smiled, cupping Hermione’s face in her hands. “I know that Harry married Ginny, but they weren’t meant to be. Harry was looking for something Ginny couldn’t have given him, stability, a family. Ginny wanted adventure and that’s what Draco gives her. As odd a pairing as it is, she and Draco complement one another.” Hermione stilled, listening to Molly as she spoke. Her hands still holding Hermione’s face, her thumbs stroking the swell of her cheeks. “You my darling girl, the brightest witch of your age by far, complimented Harry. He knew it. That boy was so in love with you. I knew something changed just before the battle. Is that when you did it?” She asked. It wasn’t an accusation, just simply an observation yet it still made Hermione’s heart ache. “Yes…” She whispered faintly. Molly nodded and kissed her forehead. “As I said, whatever the reason…Harry will forgive you.” Hermione cried harder, shaking her head. “Not when he finds out everything, I’ve taken from him.” Molly shook her head, “Oh darling, that’s not true, you took a memory. He will forgive that.” She smiled and squeezed Hermione reassuringly. Hermione lifted her arm shakily, her wand poised, wordlessly she conjured a small photo of Rosalee. “I didn’t just rob him of a memory Molly,” She held out the photograph and watched as realization washed over Molly’s face. “I robbed him of the family he so desperately craved… I robbed him of the birth of his daughter…of her first steps, first words…” She couldn’t continue as she dissolved into sobs. Molly’s fingers traced the photograph. Watching as the little girl spun, laughing, her smile, her eyes all that of her father. “Oh Hermione…” Molly whispered, unsure of what else to say.
The truth was coming out, one way or another and Hermione was slowly starting to lose her grip on her secret.