Eight
EIGHT
Hermione was sobbing by the time she stepped into the doorway of her flat. Poppy was on the floor with Rosalee playing wizard’s chess. She turned and hastily wiped her face, plastering on a smile for the benefit of her daughter. “Mum…are you crying?” Her beautifully observant daughter asked. Hermione shook her head. “Mummy’s fine, I just need a moment is all. Lots of memories being back here. Just a moment, I promise, then we will do your cake.” Hermione brushed past the two and into her bedroom before softly closing the door behind her.
Harry. Merlin, he had been so bloody nice. He knew he had been obliviated, had known it for years now and assumed the reason behind it was his own fault. Hermione’s heart broke and she briefly wondered if it would ever be the same again. She had known the second that Minerva revealed they would be working together that her secrets would come undone. What she hadn’t expected was how forgiving Harry would be about being obliviated. Only because he believed it was his fault, her mind reminded her. What would happen when he knew the whole truth? She highly doubted that he would be as forgiving then, and honestly, she didn’t deserve his forgiveness. Harry longed for a family for so long. She denied him that. That was unforgivable.
What happened next was like a car accident you just can’t look away from. Hermione opened her bedroom door, resigned to the fact that sooner or later she would have to tell Harry the truth. The whole truth and let the consequences fall where they land. As she moved forward, she heard the soft knock on her door. Poppy jumping up to answer it. “Poppy will get it mistress.” Announced the elf. A moment too late, Hermione remembered the books she left littered in the great hall, directly at Harry’s feet. “Poppy!” She yelled just as Harry stepped over the threshold. He stilled; his arms full of books as he took in the scene around him. “I brought your books back.” He said, his eyes lingering on Hermione.
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she stepped forward, arms outstretched to accept the books. “Are you here for my birthday?” Rosalee asked innocently as she stood up from the floor. Her question pulled Harry’s attention and Hermione could only watch as he began to study their daughter. “Your birthday?” He asked cautiously. Rosalee nodded and smiled, “Yes, I’m 6 today.” Hermione watched in horror as Harry did the math in his head. “6.” Rosalee nodded again.
Hermione could see the exact moment that Harry realized what memory she must have stolen from him. She saw the anger, the betrayal…the hatred bloom in his eyes as he looked up, meeting her gaze once more. She couldn’t hold back the tears as they spilled over onto her cheeks. The next words he spoke were Hermione’s undoing. “She has my mother’s eyes…doesn’t she?” There was no kindness in his tone, simply accusation. There was no point in lying to him anymore; he’d seen the proof standing before him. Her smile, her eyes, it was all like looking in a mirror for him. “Yes…She does.” Hermione said, just barely above a whisper.
Their hearts both shattered at the same time, pieces scattering across the floor. For a split-second Hermione thought, maybe he would understand, maybe he would forgive her. Then he stepped back, his hand combing through his hair as he tried to control his anger. Hermione could barely breathe, the edges of the room blurry from her tears. “Poppy…why don’t you take Rosalee to the kitchen for some ice cream.” Harry suggested, his voice hard. “Yes, Master potter, Poppy will take young mistress for some ice cream.” Hermione trembled as she watched her daughter follow the house elf out of the room.
The silence stretched on, and for a moment she thought, maybe that was it. Perhaps he just needed a moment to process. “Hermione…you had better start fucking explaining. Now!” He slammed his fist on the table, causing Hermione to jump. She could feel the anger radiating from him. This was bad. He had never been this angry, not even when he wore the horcrux around his neck. She was frozen, unable to look away from the expression of rage that covered his face. “Harry please…” She began, desperate to placate him. He spun, grabbing her bicep almost painfully, “No Hermione. I’m done dancing around this. You need to start explaining how you have a daughter, that has my mother’s eyes, my fucking eyes, right now.” He released her with a mild shove.
Hermione licked her lips and took a shaky breath. “What do you want me to say Harry?” She pleaded. “Let’s try the fucking truth for once! You’ve been lying to me for six years Hermione! Six!” Harry’s face was hard and angry. “I took it.” She began, “I took the night we made love, the night we conceived Rosalee. It was a single night in the forest of dean. The first time for either of us.” Harry’s eyes grew round, almost as if he didn’t believe Rosalee could actually be his. “You took so much fucking more than that from me Granger.” She cringed at the use of her surname but said nothing.
Harry started to pace, his hands carding through his unruly hair. It was longer than the last time she saw it. “Why?” Harry asked finally, his voice dangerously low. “Why did you do this?” Hermione sighed shakily, shrugging her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Obviously, I didn’t know about Rosalee at the time…but I took that night because…well because of Ginny. Ron, and our friendship as a whole.” Harry barked out a humorless laugh, “A lot of bloody good that did us! We aren’t friends any longer Hermione! My marriage crumbled, because of you! Ron married Luna! What did you protect?!” He demanded. When she didn’t answer he yelled again, “Well?! What the fuck did you protect Hermione?” More tears spilled over her cheeks as she cut her eyes away, unable to look at him any longer. “I don’t know.” She whispered finally. “I made a mistake.”
Harry darted forward, snatching her chin and forcing her gaze to meet his. “Mistake?” He shouted. “You took my life away Hermione. You took away my choice. You took away my chance to be a father. Fuck!” He yelled releasing her as he ripped his glasses from his face and squeezed his eyes shut before pinching the bridge of his nose. Tears rolled silently down his cheeks as he shook with anger. “Fuck Hermione…” His voice sounded broken. So broken and that was entirely her fault. “I missed the birth of my daughter. I missed the fucking opportunity to name her, to have a say in her name. Did you even think about that?” Harry glared at her, daring her to deny him any more answers. “Of course I did Harry. I thought about it every day. I named her, thinking of you. Rosalee…. A combination of my mother’s name and your mother’s name.” Harry paused and just briefly his gaze softened, but just as quickly as it came it was gone again. “I missed her first steps…first words. Sure, you can tell me about them, but it’s not the same and you bloody well know it.” Hermione pinched her lips closed, the shame filling her body.
The silence stretched between them. There was nothing left and still so much more left to say. Harry growled, wiping his face and putting his glasses back on. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to forgive you for this Hermione.” He said quietly, “I understand.” She answered. Harry turned and studied her. “Do you? Do you understand Hermione?” He asked moving to stand before her once more. “This was a betrayal. One I never expected, especially from you. I was a pawn in a war I never should have been in. Betrayed by adults that were supposed to watch out for me. You.” He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief, “I trusted you. I was betrayed and used by the ministry for years. I’d go through that ten times over if I never had to feel this knife you just put in my back.” The door creaked open before Hermione could say anything in response. “Mummy!” Rosalee called as she skipped happily through the door. “I want to get to know my daughter. I’ll be in touch with an arrangement that would be beneficial to us both.” He didn’t wait for her reply. Instead, he made his way towards Rosalee. To anyone else, he looked composed, but Hermione could see how nervous he crouched before her. Leaning closely, he pulled her in, whispering in her ear before pulling away, a sad smile on his face. His fingers trembled as he pulled her into a tight hug, holding his daughter, as her father for the first time.
As he stood up, he glanced back towards Hermione, his eyes not quite meeting hers before he left the room.