Fifteen
FIFTEEN
Hermione paced before the front door. Harry was coming to get Rosalee this afternoon and her stomach was twisting and thrashing worse than the whomping willow. So much was happening, and Hermione was barely keeping up. “Mione, it’s just Harry.” Ron offered. She understood that. She trusted Harry with her life. Trusting him with their daughter wasn’t the issue. “Yes Ronald. I am abundantly aware of that.” She snapped, smoothing her curls back as she took a breath. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, then crossed them again, unsure of what to do with herself. “Hermione.” Ron crossed the short distance and grabbed her arms gently, “Relax. This is okay. This is going to BE okay.” He assured and she groaned. “Ron, you don’t know that. This is my daughter.” She complained. “She’s my daughter as well.” Harry’s voice caused the two to jump apart, swinging their heads in the direction of the door, which was being held open by Rosalee. “I knocked.” Harry defended. Hermione could see the tick in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. “I think I’m just going to take her down to Hogsmeade.” Harry offered. He was trying to be civil. Hermione appreciated that.
When he got back to Grimmuald last night he avoided the memories. Unable to bring himself to move forward. The next memory was Rosalee’s birth, and he wasn’t ready for that. “I assumed she hasn’t been yet?” Hermione shook her head, unable to find her voice. “Can Mummy come too?” Rosalee interjected. Hermione’s eyes went wide and shot up to Harry, “Oh…darling, no. You’re going to spend some time with your fa…Harry” She stuttered. Rosalee shifted, her shoulders sinking with disappointment. “If you’d like your…mother to come then certainly she can.” Ron shifted nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between the former friends. It had been years since the three of them had been the golden trio, what was once a familiar comfort, now felt icy and tense. “All right then…” He started uncomfortably, “I’m sure Luna is probably waiting for me,” He lifted his very bare wrist, “Wow…look at the time, yeah, I definitely need to piss off. You three have a wonderful afternoon.” He smiled and waved his fingers towards Rosalee, “I’ll see you later.” Rosalee laughed, waving excitedly, “Bye Uncle Ron!” Hermione flinched, wondering when that development began. Once Ron was gone, Harry swung his arm out and towards the door. “Shall we?” He asked, his voice hard. Hermione nodded, grabbing a jumper from the back of her chair and following Rosalee out the door.
They had been walking in tense silence, trailing behind Rosalee as she skipped up the cobblestone path. “He gets Uncle Ron, and I get Harry? She is my bloody daughter.” He whispered harshly, his eyes trained on Rosalee, watching that she didn’t get too far ahead. Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t know what you were comfortable with. She wanted to call you daddy, but I told her to wait until we spoke with you first.” They descended back into silence. Rosalee was just ahead, humming a tune as she skipped and twirled. Hermione stole little glances of Harry as he watched their daughter. He sighed, his eyes darting to the side, briefly catching her own. “What? I’m afraid to take my eyes off her…” Hermione smiled, “I’m afraid that if I do, she will disappear. Just like her mother.” He snapped bitterly.
Hermione deserved that. She deserved the pain that comment inflicted, so she said nothing. “Where would you like to see first Rosalee?” Harry asked as they stepped into the small town. His tone was much softer and kinder to her than the hardness he gave Hermione. Rosalee looked around, her green eyes bright and wide as she took everything in. “Tomes and Scrolls. No!” Rosalee yelled, pointing excitedly, “Over there!” Spintwitches Sporting Needs was advertising the newest firebolt in the shop window. Hermione groaned, “Of all the things you take after your father for, and its this.” Harry laughed, the sound startling both of them.
“Come on Rosalee. I’ll take you in there.” Hermione sighed and watched as the two of them walked off, chatted excitedly about brooms and quidditch.
The afternoon continued rather quietly. Harry had bought Rosalee some quidditch figures, some books and a new set of robes before the trio slipped into honeydukes to satisfy their sweet tooth.
By the time they made it back to Hogwarts, Harry had Rosalee in his arms. Her head resting on his shoulder, her mouth parted in sleep and a little spittle dripping from her lips onto his shirt. Hermione pushed open the door, glancing back as Harry followed her inside. “Her bed is this way.” She whispered, tilting her head in the direction. Harry nodded, following behind her until he laid Rosalee in her bed. For a moment he stared at her. She was a perfect combination of the two of them. Her hair a shade somewhere between both of them. Her nose, chin, cheeks and curls were all Hermione whereas her eyes, and smile were definitely him. She had spoken to him about everything that afternoon, seamlessly jumping from one subject to another. Like her mother, she was brilliant. Harry leaned forward, brushing her hair off her forehead before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss on her brow.
He followed Hermione to the sitting room where she shifted her feet nervously. “I can make tea…if you’d like to stay, I mean.” Hermione offered. He thought about it. He really did but shook his head. “No. I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” He stepped closer to her, unable to deny the pull he felt. “Thank you, Hermione. For today. I really enjoyed spending time with her. She’s amazing.” He offered sincerely. Hermione blinked back the tears threatening to spill over as she nodded. “Of course.” Harry drifted closer as the tears spilled over. “I’m sorry Harry…if I could go back…” Harry reached out, tugging her into his arms without thinking. “Stop Hermione. Just for a moment stop. I’m angry, but I don’t want you to cry.” He whispered, his mouth brushing against her ear. His heart stuttered in his chest. He hadn’t anticipated what it would feel like, to hold her in his arms again. His breath shuddered and goosebumps broke out along her skin. All she would have to do would be….
Hermione turned her head, her lips brushed along his jaw as she peered up at him. “Harry…” Her breath ghosted across his lips. They hovered there, sharing the breath as their eyes searched for something. Anything.
Neither one could tell you who moved first, but in the next second as Harry leaned down, Hermione leaned up and their lips touched. A soft, tentative touch, barely a kiss even, but it was all Harry needed as he groaned, his hand lacing up to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling into her curls. She let out a delicious sigh as he descended on her mouth once more. She tasted like honey and the chocolate from the shoppe. Just as quickly as it started, Harry jumped back. “I’m sorry.” He stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione stood frozen, her lips pink and parted. It made his mouth practically water. “I need to go. I’m sorry…” He paused, his hand on the doorknob, “That shouldn’t have happened.” He said as he slipped out, closing the door as Hermione’s heart shattered once more.