Chapter 9
Ron soared through the air, his broomstick slicing effortlessly through the crisp spring breeze as he approached Harry, who sat perched atop his broom, his gaze fixed intently on the Quidditch pitch below. The sun cast long shadows across the emerald-green grass as the Gryffindor team practiced fervently for their upcoming match, the final showdown of the season.
"Why the intense glare, Harry?"
Harry tore his gaze away from the players below, his expression a mixture of determination and frustration. "I'm trying to uncover who Mione's dating," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized each member of the team as they flew past. His brows furrowed with concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line of determination. "She said he's in Gryffindor, older than us, and plays Quidditch. I'm on a mission to find out who he is."
"I'm trying to find out who Mione is dating," Harry muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized each player that flew past. His brows furrowed with concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line of determination.
Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his broomstick hovering in mid-air as he processed his best friend’s words. "You mean to say you don't know?"
A shadow passed over Harry's face, and from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his sister Ginny flying towards them. Her expression, a mix of amusement and secrecy, silently answered his question. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips.
"And what's got you grounded instead of playing?" she chimed in, her voice carrying a hint of teasing.
"Harry here is trying to find out who his precious Hermione is dating," Ron replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm
"You could lend a hand instead of making jokes. She's your friend too, you know."
His smirk widened, and he couldn't resist poking fun at his best friend. "Oh, I'm aware of that, dear Harry. But unlike you, I know who she's dating," he taunted, sticking his tongue out playfully. "The fact that you're clueless is both baffling and unsurprising. No wonder they say we'd be lost without Hermione. With you, we'd probably still be trying to figure out who Nicholas Flamel is."
Ginny's laughter bubbled up at her brother’s quip, and she blushed as she glanced at her boyfriend. Ron joined in the laughter, thoroughly enjoying teasing Harry. Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through the air, causing the three of them to snap their heads towards the source.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER, GET DOWN FROM THAT BROOM THIS INSTANT!" Hermione's voice rang out, laced with unmistakable fury.
The Weasleys exchanged impressed looks, while Harry appeared torn between disbelief and apprehension. "What on earth have you done now, Harry?" Ron chortled, barely able to contain his amusement.
"I didn't do anything. Maybe it was you.”
"Last time I checked, my name wasn't Harry James Potter.”
"HARRY, IF YOU DON'T LAND THAT BROOM RIGHT NOW, I SWEAR I'LL MAKE SURE YOU REGRET IT!"
Ron laughed heartily, and Ginny joined in, her voice teasing. "Babe, you might want to comply. We wouldn't want our savior flying around with a broomstick where it doesn't belong during our match against Slytherin.”
"You lot are dreadful friends, just so you know," Harry scowled as he reluctantly descended from his broomstick, his feet touching the ground with a thud. A split second later, a strong tug on his ear caused him to yelp in pain.
"OUCH, HERMIONE, THAT HURTS! LET GO OF MY EAR!"
Ignoring his protests, she marched forward, dragging him along by his ear. His face twisted in discomfort with each tug, his discomfort evident as they made their way through the corridors. Their classmates and teachers glanced at them with surprise and amusement, and Harry wished he could shrink into the shadows to escape his embarrassment, but it paled in comparison to the dread of Hermione's wrath. It was fun when her wand wasn't aimed at you; when it was, well, Merlin help you.
"Mione, could you at least tell me where we're headed?" he ventured, breaking the tense silence that had settled between them.
"We're paying a visit to your father," Hermione spat out, her tone cold and clipped. His heart sank at the way she had said 'father', a sense of foreboding settling over him like a dark cloud. Something told him that they were both in serious trouble — him and his father.
They arrived at the tower where James Potter resided, and without a word, the portrait swung open to admit them. Inside, James paced back and forth, his expression tense. He halted the moment his eyes landed on Harry and Hermione.
"Time for a little family meeting, boys. Aren't you excited?" Hermione's forced smile did little to ease the tension, and Harry exchanged a worried glance with his father. This was definitely not good.
"Okayyy," Harry hesitated, casting wary glances between his father and his best friend. "What's going on here?"
"Oh Godric, don't pretend you don't know. How long have you known?
He took a cautious step back, his hands rising in a placating gesture. "Mione, seriously, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Merlin's beard, Harry. How long have you been aware that I'm your mother?"
Harry turned to his father, a mixture of shock and confusion evident on his face. "You told her?"
"She had every right to know."
He turned back to his best friend, his mind reeling. "How did you find out?"
Hermione rose from her seat, her strides purposeful as she approached both Potters. Her voice was as cold as ice. "James and I were on a date, and imagine my surprise when he pulls out a bloody ring and blurts out, out of the blue, that we're bloody married."
Harry's indignation flared, and he took a step closer to her. "You’re dating him? My dad? Since when?"
"That's beside the point, Harry. Answer me: how long have you known?"
His lips curled into a sarcastic smirk, his arms crossing defiantly. "Wouldn't Miss Know-it-all like to have all the answers?"
Hermione's fists clenched, her anger pulsating like waves crashing against a rocky shore. "Harry, you're about to become the Boy-Who-Died this time if you don’t start speaking," she seethed, her voice dripping with venom.
"I, uh, maybe we should all calm down a bit?" James suggested with a half-hearted smile, attempting to ease the growing tension. "Let's remember we're family here."
"SHUT UP, JAMES!" Mother and son snapped simultaneously, turning their identical furious brown eyes towards him, causing him to raise his hands in surrender.
"Merlin's beard, you two have the same bloody temper," the man muttered under his breath as he sank into a nearby chair, shaking his head in disbelief. "Black temper, my arse."
Remus and Padfoot strolled leisurely around the Hogwarts grounds, enjoying the spring air, when a silver Patronus stag interrupted their tranquility, bearing a message from their best friend. With practiced ease, Sirius transformed back into his human form, and together they hastened towards the castle.
Padfoot swiftly transformed into his human form, his strides purposeful as they made their way toward the castle. Upon their arrival, the portrait swung open to admit them, granting them entry to a scene that could have been plucked straight from the pages of a dramatic novel.
Hermione stood with her wand pointed menacingly at Harry, her cheeks flushed crimson with anger. Harry, in turn, wore a defiant smirk, seemingly unfazed by the threat of Hermione's magic and seemed to be goading her on. Meanwhile, James stood nearby, his expression torn between worry and frustration as he attempted to mediate the escalating confrontation to no avail.
"Isn't this just a charming family gathering?" Sirius remarked with a sardonic smirk as he took in the chaotic scene. "Wands weren't exactly permitted at my family gatherings. They might have been far more entertaining if my dear Bella had challenged Lucius to a wizard's duel."
"Enough with the jokes, Pads. I could use your help here.”
"What happened?"
James let out a heavy sigh as he finally managed to convince Hermione to lower her wand. "Hermione has discovered everything," he murmured, a flush creeping up his cheeks.
"Everything?" Remus echoed, raising an incredulous eyebrow as he guided Harry to take a seat.
“Everything.”
"I need someone to start explaining to me what's going on, or I'm going to start cursing someone," Hermione's voice crackled with fury as she fixed her gaze on the assembled group.
"What's stopping you? Be my guest. After all, that's what you do whenever you don't get the answer you want or hear what you want to hear," Harry goaded from across the room, his arms folded defiantly as he avoided her gaze.
Without warning, she launched herself towards him, her wand brandished threateningly, before being swiftly intercepted by Sirius and James. The two wizards moved with lightning speed, catching her just in time to prevent her from unleashing a curse or worse, attacking Harry with her bare hands. She struggled against their hold, her chest heaving with anger as she fought against their grip, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Alright, let's all take a step back and try to approach this like rational adults," Remus interjected calmly from his position in the center of the room.
"Harry doesn't meet the requirements. He's incapable of behaving like an adult," Hermione spat, her body tensing as she struggled against the firm grip of James and Sirius as she locked gazes with her best friend.
"Take that back," Harry's voice cracked with indignation as he rose from his seat, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Is the baby going to cry?" Hermione's words dripped with sarcasm, her taunt eliciting a growl of frustration from him, her expression filled with scorn.
Before Harry could respond, a silent understanding passed between the three Marauders. They exchanged meaningful glances, nodding in unison before swiftly raising their wands, their movements synchronized as they aimed them at the two feuding teens.
"SILENCIO!" they shouted in unison, their voices resonating through the room as a hushed silence descended, cutting off any further exchange of words.
The sudden absence of sound seemed to hang heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere that had filled the room just moments before. Hermione and Harry's mouths moved in vain, their voices silenced by the powerful spell cast upon them.
"Silence. What a beautiful sound," Sirius exclaimed, his voice filled with a touch of amusement as he gave a small round of applause, before dropping into a nearby chair with careless ease. "I never had anything like that when I was little either."
"Pads, now is hardly the time to delve into your childhood traumas," James interjected, his voice laced with exasperation as he ran his hands over his face in frustration. After a moment to collect himself, he offered a small smile to the two teenagers before him. "Now, how about a little story time?"
If looks could kill, the three adults would have been dead and buried six feet below. If looks could kill, the three adults would have already been dead and buried six feet below. Hermione's glare could have melted steel, her eyes flashing with a potent mix of fury and frustration. Beside her, Harry's expression mirrored hers, his jaw clenched tightly as he seethed with silent rage at being silenced in such a manner.
Ignoring the seething glares directed their way, Sirius continued with a casual air, as though completely oblivious to the storm brewing in the room. "You see, it all started back in first year when we were just Hogwarts students like yourselves. Yes, Kitten, you too."
"Hermione," Remus began, his voice warm with fondness as he fixed her with a gentle smile, "You arrived at school a month after term had already begun, and I happened to be the one you encountered first. I was in the Hospital Wing after a full moon, and it was the first night in eleven years that I didn't mind being there."
"Aww, did little Remy have a crush on Hermione?" Sirius teased, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he glanced at his husband, who shot him a warning glare, though a faint blush tinged his cheeks.
"Wait," James interjected, his expression one of disbelief as he turned to the werewolf, "you had a crush on her?"
"Prongsie, honestly, why are you so surprised? I thought I liked her too until I realized it wasn't her, but rather her nerdy vibe.No offense, love. You just weren't the right gender for me."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione couldn't help but crack a small smile at his jest
"Regardless," Remus continued, steering the conversation back on track, "you and Lily quickly became good friends. I'd accompany you sometimes, but more often than not, you could be found on your own. Your intelligence was staggering, and it intimidated many, particularly the purebloods who held onto their archaic notions of blood purity. They couldn't fathom a witch like you existing within their narrow worldview."
James cast Hermione a loving smile, his eyes softening with affection. "I realized I liked you in our second year. You couldn't stand me, but I made a promise to myself that by the time we graduated, you'd be my girlfriend."
"And because you and Lily were always together, people just assumed Prongs liked Lily. Mostly because she was the most vocal in expressing her thoughts about him.”
"It was easier to pretend to like Lily, because whenever I tried talking to you, I'd get so flustered that I couldn't string together a coherent sentence," Potter confessed, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Of course, Lily knew all about it and never said a word. She just relished having an excuse to hex me whenever she pleased."
"James harbored his crush on you silently and patiently until our fifth year rolled around," Remus continued, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he recounted their shared history. "During a game of spin the bottle, you and I ended up kissing, and I think that was the moment James realized that the male population at Hogwarts had come to the same conclusion he had three years prior—namely, that you were undeniably pretty."
"You made out with this fucker’s brother," James accused, his gaze shifting to his wife as he pointed accusingly at Sirius. Harry's eyes widened as he glanced at Hermione. "It was your first kiss. A Slytherin, really?"
Sirius bristled at the accusation, his expression a mixture of indignation and amusement. "Oi, watch it, Reggie is still my brother."
Hermione merely shrugged in response, her demeanor unapologetic as she defiantly raised her middle finger, offering her boyfriend a nonchalant middle finger as if to say, "You deserve it."
"We didn't officially start dating until September of our seventh year. We had an on-and-off friends-with-benefits situationship over the summer until I finally worked up the courage to ask you out. I was never particularly good at controlling my jealousy, especially when it came to sharing what I believed to be mine."
"And yet, people still somehow thought James liked Lily," Remus chimed in, his tone equal parts frustration and amusement. "Sure, you two were never seen kissing in the hallways, but you spent an awful lot of time alone together. You'd think people would have caught on, but apparently, they were either incredibly oblivious or just plain dense."
"Prongsie drunkenly proposed to you the night of our graduation," Sirius chuckled, his laughter filling the room as James's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And by the end of the night, when you tried to put him to bed, he got into a heated argument with you because he kept insisting that he had a girlfriend and that you had stolen the ring. He was completely out of it."
"A week later, he formally proposed to you," the werewolf chimed in, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he recounted the events. "We were all there, along with James's parents and yours. James started tearing up halfway through his speech, and by the end, he was practically a blubbering mess."
"But you said yes," James said, his smile bright but tinged with a hint of sadness. "And that's what mattered most. We got married that same month because... well, you know, the war," he added, his expression turning somber as he mentioned the ongoing conflict. A heavy silence settled over the room, thick with memories of hardship and loss.
"We were just kids trying to play at being adults," he continued, his smile bitter as he reminisced. "Up until then, everything had seemed so black and white. But the war... It showed us that life is full of shades of gray, and in the end, it's all about survival.We put our blind trust in Dumbledore—how could we not? He was the most powerful wizard since Merlin, wasn't he? But in the end, we were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard."
"When you named me godfather, Harry, it was the second happiest day of my life. The first, of course, was my wedding to Moony. But Harry, you were a ray of sunshine in the midst of the storm."
James turned to his son, tears glistening in his eyes as he spoke. "Lily was your godmother, too, Harry. I know you might have thought you only had a godfather, but she was just as much a part of it as Pads was. There was no one more perfect for the role than her. She was your mother’s best friend and she died protecting you. Peter and some fucking Deatheaters ambushed her the night we ‘died’. She was trying to get you out of the house."
He turned his gaze to Hermione, who sat silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. His heart ached to comfort her, to wrap her in his arms and shield her from the pain, but first, he had to finish the story.
"When Dumbledore brought us the prophecy, I was furious with him, you know?" James began, his voice tinged with frustration. "You never had much faith in Divination; you always said it was a big pile of shite, and in that moment, I understood. Dumbledore was taking bits and pieces of prophecy and trying to fit them onto your back, trying to mold them to fit his agenda. But in our fear and desire to protect Harry, we allowed ourselves to be swayed and decided to heed his advice and go into hiding."
"I realized that hiding wasn't giving us any advantage," Sirius interjected angrily, his voice laced with frustration. "You were one of the best duelists and strategists in our class, Hermione. What was the point of hiding you away?" His frustration with Dumbledore boiled over as he recounted the events of that tumultuous time. "I confronted Dumbledore, demanding that he bring you out of hiding, but he insisted that you would understand in due time. I told him to shove his words up his arse and sought a solution in my family's grimoire."
"We spent countless nights searching for a solution in case Dumbledore's plan failed," Remus added in a deep, somber voice. "And we found it, though it was dark magic and somewhat ambiguous in its workings. But we were desperate. There were two options: one involving the painting James got trapped in and the other the potion you took. We made sure you would always have someone by your side, Harry, even if you didn't know it."
James was about to continue when Harry suddenly shot out of his chair and enveloped him in a tight hug. James's heart swelled with emotion as he looked at Hermione, and they would do it all over again without hesitation. Yet, despite their efforts, a sense of helplessness washed over him. What good was he, having been dead for fifteen years, if Voldemort had returned?
"Thank you," Harry murmured against his father's shirt, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank you, Dad."
He blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by his son's heartfelt gratitude. "How did you manage to break free from the Silencio charm?"
"I'm the son of the Brightest Witch of Our Age, what did you expect?"
"You've got a point there, buddy."
All eyes turned to Hermione, who had remained silent until now. Tears streamed down her face as she gazed with a mixture of awe and overwhelming emotion at the boy who was not only her best friend but now, her son.
"You have my eyes," she whispered between sobs, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own tears.
Harry scratched the back of his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess so. You're my mother, aren't you?"
She nodded, her heart swelling with love and pride. "Yes. I'm your Mom," she affirmed, rising from her chair and enveloping him in a tight embrace as if she hadn't seen him in years. "My baby boy. I’m so so sorry."
With those words, Harry's composure crumbled entirely. He began to sob uncontrollably, clinging to Hermione as if she were his lifeline. She had always been a constant presence in his life, caring for him and looking out for him, and now, he realized just how much he had taken her for granted. He was terrified, just a sixteen-year-old boy facing a threat too big for him. Suddenly, he felt another pair of arms encircle him, and he looked up to see his father embracing him and his mother, tears glistening in his own eyes.
"We've got you. You're not alone anymore, do you hear me?" His voice was filled with reassurance and determination. "You've got all of us until the very end. We're going to make it, son."
Hermione met James's gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but he offered her a small smirk and a wink, eliciting a roll of her eyes but a genuine smile nonetheless.
"We're going to make it, Angel. You and me. I'm sure of it."