Obliviate

THREE
       Hermione set the empty cup onto the table and folded her hands in her lap. Molly was still staring at Rosalee’s photo with a soft smile on her face. “She’s beautiful dear.” She said finally as she set the photograph on the table. “She has her father’s eyes.” Molly whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. “He would have been an amazing father.” She said quietly, unable to meet Hermione’s guilt filled gaze. “And I denied him that chance.” She croaked; her voice as broken as her heart. “He will never forgive me.” Molly sighed but didn’t disagree. “Tell me about her.” She asked instead. Hermione gave her a watery smile. “She’s brilliant.” She pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “I would wager to say so!” Molly announced with a laugh as she stood, gathering the teacups. “She’s your daughter after all.” Hermione nodded. “She loves to read and retains everything, but she has her father’s temper.” She said with a soft chuckle. Tears slipped down her cheeks again, landing on her lap leaving wet circles on her skirt. “Oh Molly, what am I going to do? All I ever wanted was for Harry to be happy. I knew Ginny loved him; I was terrified to lose him as a friend. I thought I was doing what was right.” Molly paused, her hands twisting in her apron as she dried them. “Do you love him?” She asked after a moment. “Excuse me?” Hermione asked with surprise. What kind of question was that? Of course she loved him, that’s why she did what she did, why she hid her daughter away, why she hid herself away. She disappeared from his life to ensure his happiness. “It’s a simple question dear; do you love him? Not love him as in a friend but love him, truly, undeniably, unequivocally love him.” Hermione stared at the older witch, her eyes scanning the woman’s face. The years had added a softness to her features, a little more wrinkle and some lines of sadness from her loss but she was still the same woman who she would run to nearly every summer. The woman who could sniff out a lie from a kilometer away. “Yes…” She whispered finally. The very word causing panic to bubble in her stomach. She had never admitted it out loud, terrified of what it would all mean. “Then we must trust that whatever is meant to happen, will.” As if that was the answer to it all.

        Hermione got to her feet, glancing at the clock on the wall, ignoring the hand that remained still with Fred’s name on it. More spoons had been added since she was away. Even her own stared back at her, which struck her suddenly that Molly had always known where to find her but gave her the space she needed until she would finally come back. Come home. Without a word she crossed the room and enveloped the woman in a hug. “I love you dear.” Molly whispered against her hair. “It will all work out one way or another.” She cupped Hermione’s face in her hands once more before kissing both her cheeks. “Now. Head back to the castle and be sure you bring around my grandbaby soon.”

          Grandbaby. The word made Hermione’s heart clutch in her chest. Rosalee had never had grandparents before. James and Lilly Potter had been gone since before she knew Harry, before she knew magic had even existed and her parents… well there was no bringing them back either. “I will…” Hermione agreed hoarsely. Molly smiled brightly. “Wonderful. I’ll expect you both for dinner tomorrow evening. Tell the darling that Grammy and Pop-pop are anxious to meet her.” Hermione took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay.”

           Hermione returned to her room feeling a bit lighter. The ache that formed over the years seemed a little less painful. At least for the moment. She had no idea how she was going to fix the situation with Harry, but she knew without a doubt that one way or another she had to.
            Her relief however was temporary. As she turned around, she found the small house elf cowering in the corner, repeatedly punishing herself by smacking herself with the fire poker. “Poppy!” Hermione yelled, rushing over to grab the metal pole from the elves’ fingers. “Oh mistress! Poppy is terribly sorry! Young mistress woke up shortly after you left! Young mistress wanted to play. Poppy played hide and seek with young mistress. Young mistress is VERY good, and Poppy has lost young mistress!”

          Hermione’s blood froze in her veins. Surely Rosalee stayed within their room and didn’t venture out into the castle. The slightly ajar doorway told her that was exactly what happened. “Poppy fetch the head mistress please.”
Not for the first time in the past six years, Hermione cursed herself for having not had the ability to produce a patronus. She rushed out of her room and into the dimly lit hallways. “Rosalee?” She called out as loudly as she dared. There shouldn’t be any students until tomorrow at least. She rushed towards the library, praying that this one time her daughter was more like her than her father and got distracted by books rather than the competitive spirit of hide and seek.

          Hermione sighed in relief as she spotted Minerva coming down the stairs with the elf following behind her. “Ms. Granger it will be alright, the castle is much safer than when you were here as a child.” Minerva squeezed her shoulder as Hermione glanced around, frantically looking for any sign of her daughter. “Where could she be?” Hermione nearly sobbed. “I’ve got all the house elves scouring the castle. We should know her whereabouts in just a few moments.” Hermione nodded shakily. “The lake headmistress!” One of the portraits called out as he rushed into the frame. “Willow in the kitchens said that another elf spotted the young child heading across the grounds to black lake!” Hermione felt faint as the words registered in her head. “Wh-what?” She whispered shakily. Her eyes frantically met Minerva’s worried gaze, “Rosalee can’t swim.”
          The two witches rushed through the castle and out onto the grounds. The moon was nearly full and illuminated the pathway that curved down the hillside and towards the onyx lake. The water was the color of ink, and still despite the gentle breeze that rustled through the trees. The surface looked like mirrored glass. As they crashed through the trees, they heard the sound that nearly doubled Hermione over. A scream followed back a splash as the surface enveloped her daughter. “Rosalee!” She screamed as she pushed herself faster.
           Tree limbs bit at her skin, searing across the flesh of her arms and cheeks. Her feet stumbled over the rocks and protruding roots as her mind whirled with scenarios she prayed would never happen. Harry would never get the chance to be a father to their daughter. She would never have the opportunity to make amends. Another splash sounded, closer this time and Hermione growled as she pumped her arms harder, begging her legs to move faster. She broke through the tree line and onto the bank of the lake, skidding to a halt.
           Moving from the lake, carrying her daughter in his arms was none other than the savior of the wizarding world. Harry Potter.