Obliviate

FOUR

        The young girl in his arms was wailing as he clutched her to his chest. It was just by chance he was heading down to Hagrid’s for a glass of fire whiskey, and some catch up with an old friend that he heard the child fall into the lake. He hadn’t hesitated to jump in after her, pulling her from the inky black water, memories of what lay beneath the surface fueling him. Harry was no stranger to the creatures that lived below the surface and thanks to the tri-wizard tournament, they were most certainly not his number one fans.
        As he stepped from the icy chill of the water, he caught sight if Minerva and… his steps faltered, sure he was imagining the person rushing towards him. “Hermione…” He stated, confusion laced in his tone. He didn’t miss the way she avoided his gaze as she shakily pulled the girl into her arms, brushing the wet curls from her face as she examined her. “Oh darling! Are you alright? What were you thinking?” She asked, her words tumbling over themselves. Harry tried to get a glimpse of the child’s face, the darkness obscuring her features. “I’m sorry Mum.” The young girl sobbed. His heart clenched at the words. Mum? Hermione was a mum? “It’s alright, you’re safe now…thank you-“ She glanced up and her brown eyes clashed with his. It had been years since he seen her, since he stared into those brown eyes. She was hiding something, had been for some time now. He knew that much. Years as an auror had taught him how to spot a lie. Not to mention she was rubbish at it. He glanced back down at the child, was that what she had been hiding? But why? “Harry.” She finished softly. His heart ached at the sound of his name on her lips.
        It was no secret, the crush he harbored for Hermione over the years. It was a constant problem in nearly every relationship he ever had, first with Cho, then with Ginny. Even Rita Skeeter had picked up on it all those years ago. He had always denied it, even when faced with the sheer evidence. He was afraid to let on and ruin the friendship they had, even though that was long gone. He cleared his throat, pulling off his glasses in an attempt to stifle the awkwardness of the unexpected encounter. He lifted his wet shirt attempting to clean the lenses. “Oh Harry…” Hermione said with a sigh, before snatching the glasses from his grasp, “Hey!-“ She lifted the hem of her blouse and cleaned the glass, “Oh sod off, you can’t clean your glasses with a soaking wet shirt, it’s the least I can do to thank you for saving my…”She hesitated “My daughter.”
        Harry nodded as she handed his glasses back. He didn’t miss how she purposefully avoided touching his skin. It had been years since they had been this close and Harry knew more than ever, she was hiding something. Something had happened and he was oblivious to what it was. Hermione shifted nervously before glancing back at Minerva, who was watching the two of them carefully. “Rosalee…this is Harry, my friend.” She said to the girl softly. Finally, the young girl turned to face him. He leaned down, searching her face, for what? He wasn’t sure exactly. It was almost like he was looking for answers. It was still too dark to really make her out. Her wet hair was dark and she had Hermione’s nose and chin. He could see that much. He smiled politely. “Hello Rosalee, My name is Harry Potter.” The gasp was so faint that he could have believed he made it up in his head had it not been for Hermione’s face. “Potter….Hey! That’s m-“ Hermione’s wand flexed and Rosalee’s words were cut off. “Yes Rosalee, that Potter. From the war… Sorry.” She said now to him. Her hand trembled as she gently pushed Rosalee towards the path. “I should get her back to the castle and into bed. It’s been….great to see you again Harry. Welcome back to Hogwarts.” Without waiting for a reply Harry watched as the two witches made their way back up the path leaving him alone with Minerva. “Mr. Potter.” She said stiffly.
        He inclined his head with a smirk. “Head mistress.” Minerva shook her head with a smile. “Always you three.” She stated with a chuckle, moving to fall into pace with Harry. She flicked her wand, drying his clothes and hair completely. “Ron’s not here.” He defended with a chuckle. Minerva clicked her tongue as they walked. “No but I think young Rosalee is going to give me a run for my money just as the three of you did.”
The two of them drifted back into silence. “I’m not sure I properly thanked you for offering me this position Prof- I mean Minerva…” He felt the warmth flood his cheeks as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Of course, Harry. There was no one better for the position.” Hagrid’s hut came into view, soft light shining through the window and a comforting scent of pumpkins permeating the air. Minerva stilled and faced Harry, her eyes roaming across his face. He knew he was no longer a boy standing before her, but a man in his own right. “It would do you well to remember that children make mistakes. Seventeen is still a child Mr. Potter.” Harry nodded, not quite understanding what she was implying. “Good night Mr. Potter. Enjoy your evening with Hagrid.” Harry nodded again as he watched his old professor turn to leave, “Goodnight Professor.” She stilled, glancing back with a smile, “By the way Mr. Potter, You’re looking much more like your mother these days.” Without another word the witch made her way back up to the castle.
        Hermione changed Rosalee out of her wet robes before changing her into dry pajamas. With a flick of her wand, she dried her hair. She continued to avoid the knowing gaze of her daughter’s green eyes, silently cursing her for being smarter than her own good. “It’s well past your bedtime.” She announced, leading her into the small adjoining room. A twin sized bed sat pushed against the far wall, with a maroon and gold duvet tucked over it. “Come on, up and in.” Hermione instructed, pulling the blankets to the side for Rosalee to climb inside. “Mum…” The girl started softly. Hermione’s heart flipped nervously. She cleared her throat and sat on the edge of the bed, woefully unprepared for the path the conversation was sure to take. “That man…he had the same name is me.” Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, “Your name is Rosalee Jean Granger…” The little girl narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. THAT was all her father. “I saw the book. The one you keep on your nightstand. It has my birth name inside of it, and my last name says Potter.” Damn those magical books, Hermione thought bitterly. The magical world didn’t have birth certificates the way the muggle world did. There was no hiding parentage in the magical world.
       Hermione scooted Rosalee over before leaning back in her bed and rolling on her side to face her daughter. “Okay…fine, yes. He has the same name as you because he is your father.” Saying the words, acknowledging them made her stomach clench and roll. “Does he know about me?” Rosalee asked innocently. Hermione sighed, blinking back tears that formed in her eyes. She managed a sad smile, “Not yet… and that’s entirely my own fault and not yours. One day he will…” Rosalee nodded before snuggling down into her blankets, seemingly satisfied with the answers Hermione provided. “I think I’d like that. My magic likes him.” Rosalee said sleepily as her eyes grew heavy. Hermione sat up with a start, “What? What do you mean your magic likes him?” Hermione wasn’t even sure if her daughter would be a witch, let alone feel her magic this early. Rosalee didn’t answer, just released a soft snore as she drifted to sleep.
       Hermione sat in front of the fire, her mind whirling. She really needed the sleep, honestly. Tomorrow was the first day of classes and she had a feeling things were about to grow more complicated. She had managed to keep her daughter hidden for the past six years, no one being the wiser. In the time span of less than a week she had unloaded on not one but two people already. She hadn’t even made Molly swear an unbreakable vow! Molly could tell Harry anything if she wanted to. Hermione stood up, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle, trying to hold the panic at bay as she paced. Molly wouldn’t betray her like that. She had to believe that for now. Everything was unraveling faster than Hermione was prepared for.