Senior Undersecretary’s Office-
As the Senior Undersecretary at just twenty-seven, she was one of the most successful employees in the Ministry and one of the most powerful people in all of Magical Britain.
Initially, she was a little reluctant in taking the job because it wasn’t exactly a step-up for her from being the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, it was rather a lateral move. And she hadn’t thought the stress of changing a position like that in the ministry was worth it, especially a position that wasn’t a promotion.
Harry had heard about the position’s opening and its potential power from one of his older ICW colleagues and had proposed her candidacy to Kingsley. And then he had convinced her to take it. Two weeks into the job and she had realised just how essential and ground-breaking her new position as the Undersecretary was, and she knew that even Harry had underestimated the power of the position. Any and all new laws yet to be passed had to be vetted down by her before it even went to the Wizengamot for any deliberation whatsoever. It was a real opportunity to change the inflexible magical world from within.
With Harry’s two votes from House Potter and Black, along with Susan, Neville and Terry in the Wizengamot representing their family seats, not to mention her own seat as the new Lady of the Dagworth-Granger line, she had both power and allies on her side. Which made overruling those underhanded cowards like Malfoy, Nott and Zabini so much easier. She had no choice but to grudgingly agree that she had done so much good in the last three months than she had in the last eight years. If her rise continued, she could see herself sitting as the Minister of Magic in a matter of years. All her studies and hard work was finally paying off and the victory tasted sweet.
As a fairly powerful witch with a flourishing career, she should be happy. More than happy in fact, she should have been content, because she had everything she wanted. And yet, she was not, something was missing in her life.
And this was her latest blow. Her eyes remained on the paper.
The latest Sunday Prophet announced her ex-husband’s engagement and upcoming nuptials to Gemma Delacour, one of Fleur’s non-Veela cousins from her father’s side. There was a moving picture of Ron and Gemma kissing in Fortescue’s ice cream shop. Gemma was a beautiful, tall witch with silver-blond hair, with a picturesque figure and not to mention the great boobs which frankly made her a little insecure. Ron’s fiancé was a model, Gemma was everything Ron expected, which she wasn’t and she knew that which is why it stung.
She had gotten married to Ron right out of Hogwarts. Married too young in fact, at just nineteen, something even Harry who was so bad at relationships had asked them multiple times. Everyone had said it back then, Harry had in fact sat them down before the wedding and questioned them both about their urgency to get married, but they were too stubborn to listen.
Looking back now, she regretted getting married; she should have listened to the obvious opinions of her parents, and her instincts and gut feeling instead of her fluctuating emotions. The trauma of the war had gotten to her just as much as it had to everyone else.
She along with Ron and Harry were the face of the new era after the war. Unlike Harry who had years of experience at handling unwanted attention, and Ron who was the most social one among them who had quickly learned how to relish in it, she however had no idea what to do with being put in the spotlight all the time. She didn’t mind being the centre of attention for a few chosen moments throughout the years, but after the war, the spotlight meant being followed around by reporters so intrusive that her every move was watched.
Putting on a brave face, she had hidden her trauma. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. But there was only so much time you could keep repressing it until it bubbled up again. The eventual ‘crash’ didn’t come until she went back to Hogwarts for one last year, alone. With no Harry or Ron to lean into, she had suffered her panic attacks and nightmares in the silence of the Head Girl’s room.
Meeting Ron at Hogsmeade for dates, clinging on to Harry’s and her parents’ letters had been her only reprieve. While Harry may have coped through his problems by rushing through the aggressively competitive Auror training program and over the top cooking nights, and Ron with his excessive drinking, Quidditch games and celebrity nonsense, she had retreated to the only thing that always helped her when she needed it. She had gone back to her sanctum of knowledge, the Hogwarts library. But for the first time in her life, it hadn’t helped. And she had no idea what to do about it.
By the time she graduated, she was just so tired of suffering alone. She just wanted to be in a healthy and comforting relationship. And that’s when Ron had proposed to her. Looking back, she now realised that Ron had only proposed to her out of fear of losing her, not because he was truly in love with her. Thanks to her fame, she was beginning to attract attention from men and he was afraid that if she started working in the Ministry, she might stop loving him and might fall in love with someone else. That insecure possessiveness of Ron was where her marriage had begun. A bad starting point. But even with that intense possessiveness, her marriage had lasted for around three years.
If their relationship was bumpy before, after marriage it was a catastrophe. By the end of it, however, Ron had just gotten bored with her. She had caught him flirting with one of his colleagues more than once. When she had confronted him, he hadn’t even bothered hiding it, waving it off as some harmless fun.
Their unhappiness at home began affecting her work. Gossips and rumours of Ron being seen with women started floating around in the Ministry. It didn’t take her long to realise that Ron wanted to date other women. With his position as a Senior Auror in the DMLE and his status as a war hero with an Order of Merlin First Class, bimbo slags threw themselves at him, not at all minding the fact that he was married. Almost as if she was no competition to them. Like every typical twenty-two-year-old man with an inferiority complex, Ron had quickly learned how to enjoy the attention of the opposite sex. She remembered the crying in bed, the long sleepless nights and the painful stretch of silences between them at home.
Even so, she hadn’t wanted it to end, she wasn’t ready to give up, but Ron hadn’t wanted to give it another try. She had suggested spending more time together, couples counselling, even consented to his idea of having children to save the marriage. Frankly, it had come as a relief when she finally had proof of him cheating on her and she had broken it off.
The divorce was settled in October 2003. Her long-time friend who had been her ex-husband was gone from her life. To add insult to the injury, Ron had moved on fairly quickly, he had immediately begun dating a slew of witches, each one more attractive than the one before, while she had struggled to ease back into normalcy. The fact that her parents never approved of Ron and weren’t surprised by her divorce was just horrible icing on the bitter cake.
She had tried her luck in dating again, but she for some reason only managed to attract these utter berks and morons like Nott, McLaggen and Pucey. All of them only wanted to date her because they wanted her fame, her Wizengamot seat or her Dagworth-Granger inheritance for themselves. Other wizards were either too intimidated by her or didn’t find her attractive enough to ask her out.
For a while, having given up on wizards, she had tried dating muggle men, which was nice at first until she began using Legilimency to find out more about them. What she found in their thoughts made her stomach churn. Many didn’t find her particularly attractive enough as she wasn’t too keen on dressing up beyond being presentable and professional, and those who did find her attractive often only wanted one thing from her, sex, a few among them were even married who were looking to cheat on their wives.
Even the few she did like, the fact that she could never tell them she was a witch or what she did for work. Unless you were extremely practised at lying and did not feel guilty about it, it was difficult to build a relationship on lies while adhering to the Statute of Secrecy. Her last official date was more than two years ago and she wasn’t ashamed of it.
It was Sunday morning and she didn’t even have to be here at work, but here she was, working half a day because she had nothing better to do at home all morning. And reading the Prophet only made her mood worse than before.
The next half hour went by in her depressive thoughts and then there was a knock on the door, which broke her out of her idle musing, “Come in.”
“Madam Granger?” Her assistant Clara came in.
“Yes.”
Clara may be her assistant, but they were around the same age and she was one of the very few who knew her troubles, “I heard about Weasley.” Clara was well-practised at knowing when to keep a distance and not be overly familiar with her, and when to be a good friend.
The simple words were like a knife to her heart, “I’m fine.” She said snappishly.
“Are you?” Clara’s tone had a hint of sadness in it that wrenched her heart. She didn’t like being pitied, ever.
The silence that followed was palpable. She had no idea what came over her, she placed her hands on her face and she began sobbing softly, before forcibly calming herself moments later, sniffing every few seconds. Clara walked around her table and hugged her comfortingly.
“I thought I was over him.” She said mostly to herself.
“I know, honey.” Clara cooed at her, “I know.”
It took her a while to calm down. Just then Clara said softly, “You shouldn’t be working today. Please, go to Durham. You need him.”
Durham. Hermione softly nodded; she knew Clara was right. She couldn’t wait till the afternoon, at this very moment, she needed him. If only she had said ‘yes’ to him last year, she would have handled this news better now, but the past was the past and there was no use crying over spilt milk.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Clara asked softly.
“I just saw him a few days ago. M-maybe he’s busy, maybe now’s not the right time.”
“Stop making excuses and just go.” Clara said firmly, “I’ll handle it if anything comes up here.”
Clara handed her the handbag and she stared at it for a few moments in trepidation before sighing as she got up.
Potter Mansion (Durham)-
Hermione knocked the wolf-head door knocker thrice and waited for him to open the door.
Immediately, after the war, Harry had joined the Auror Office, but just nine months in, just one month out of the training program, he had decided to quit his job. His first and last case on the job was to aid in the capture of the deranged Death Eater, Rabastan Lestrange, one of the few who had survived the Battle of Hogwarts and escaped alive.
The mission had been a disaster. Two of Harry’s teammates had died, and his squad leader had lost one of his legs saving him. Harry’s duel with Lestrange had nearly killed him too, but he had managed to bring the Death Eater down, but not alive.
Losing his teammates had ridden him with guilt and taking a life had weighed on him more. Most fresh Aurors were not usually sent into the field right away in search of Death Eaters. But the lack of sufficient Aurors due to the war and with Harry being the top recruit in the program, not to mention his fame as the man-who-conquered, they had put him on a team of experienced Aurors as a publicity stunt to boost morale.
Even though the Ministry had hailed him as a hero for bringing down Lestrange, Harry had claimed that the team had been in harm’s way because of him, that his teammates had died because of him, because he had been too inexperienced to accurately predict the situation.
Harry always had a way of blaming himself for things that weren’t his fault. Harry had no business being anywhere near that mission; everyone knew that the department should have never assigned it to him. But it was in his nature to self-depreciate himself. He had always had very low self-worth and a disregard for personal safety, which made him self-sacrificing for the sake of others even at the cost of personal anguish. She knew that and she had told him as much.
However, the one good thing that had come out of it was the talk Andromeda Tonks had given Harry. The talk had opened his eyes, Harry had realised that he didn’t want to spend his days fighting dark wizards and witches. He wanted to rest and spend his days with loved ones, make memories. He wanted a fulfilling job, a peaceful one.
He had wanted to teach at Hogwarts, but the lack of NEWTs under his resume had made him unqualified for the job, especially considering Minerva’s stricter screening process and rules compared to Dumbledore. After Quirrell, Lockhart, Barty Crouch and Umbridge, she didn’t necessarily disagree with Minerva’s screening methods. Minerva had sent a polite letter to Harry saying that he should focus his efforts on some other career. He had sulked for a month.
Finally, he had enrolled himself on the Healer’s Apprentice program in St Mungo’s. After eighteen gruelling months of training, and taking an independent NEWT testing at the Ministry for Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, DADA and Care of Magical Creatures, all of which he had aced, with four Outstandings and two Exceed Expectations. He had become an official practising mediwizard apprentice. That had been almost seven years ago. Now, he was a Senior Healer at the Hospital.
Even with his busy schedule, at her request, he often made the time to make an appearance in the Wizengamot sessions to iron out certain matters she advised him on, not to mention his seat in the ICW as a British representative. As a natural-born leader figure, Harry’s words held much sway in the Wizengamot. In contrast to unemployed lords like Malfoy and Zabini living lavishly on their ancestral wealth and bickering amongst themselves over inane things, Harry’s reputations as a working Healer at St Mungo’s helped immensely.
The door finally opened and Harry stood there smiling at her in his loose grey tee and trousers. Folding his arms, he leaned on the side of the doorway and asked fondly, “Hello, Granger.”
She couldn’t help but smile back a little, “Hi…” But her voice was still dull.
“I was wondering when you’d show up.” He teased.
Her smile grew wider at his cheekiness and she tiredly stepped forward into him and placed her forehead against his shoulder. He let out a chuckle and gently wrapped his arms around her warmly and pulled her close, placing his cheek on the side of her head as she wrapped her arms around his midsection.
She loved this, this comfort that only Harry could give her. But she was also wary of it, indulging a little too much and it was so addicting, and it scared her. What if she got so used to it and if something didn’t work out? Would she be able to go back to not having it in her life? She had lost a person she considered a best friend once and Harry was all that she had left. That’s why when Harry had told her that he wanted to marry her, she had freaked out. They weren’t even officially dating, it was just fun cooking classes, serene movie nights and shared bubble baths.
She loved the casual relationship with Harry, and she did want more. She wanted it so much; she just wasn’t ready at that time. She also hadn’t wanted to prove that Ron was right. That she had chosen Harry over him. She was afraid that Ron would turn the blame on her over their failed marriage.
That intimate night she had shared with Harry in the tent all those years ago, that had been what Ron often accused her of. Even though Ron was gone and they were at war, doing things no teenager ought to do, they had just wanted one night of not worrying over the future. A small slow dance to music had led them to tear off clothes and stumble into bed with a trail of kisses in its wake, and they had both chosen to stay that way till the day after that. She had wanted her first time with someone who she was comfortable with, someone who would never consciously hurt her. It had been Harry’s first time as well, he was just as nervous and inexperienced as her, and they had shared that one completely dreamy night together.
She hadn’t wanted to keep it a secret from Ron after marriage, she had told him believing that he was mature enough to understand, but instead of the truth leading to acceptance, as she had hoped, it had led to a broken bond. Ron’s jealousy knew no bounds. And she couldn’t repair it.
“I missed you,” Harry whispered into her hair and she hummed a little, relaxing into him.
She missed him. This intimacy was uniquely theirs and theirs alone. The fact that Harry hadn’t dated anyone in years helped. He only had eyes for her and he was waiting for her, that was flattering in ways she couldn’t properly appreciate. He could have any witch swooning over him but he wanted her, and she loved that exclusivity, “I missed you more.” She whispered into his shoulder.
Footsteps came down the stairs with a scream breaking her out of her thoughts, “Aunt Hermione!”
Harry separated just enough for the silver-haired missile to wriggle in between them. Separating from him, she immediately scooped up her favourite girl and smothered her with kisses, “There’s my big girl.”
Harry separated from them, keeping a grinning eye on her and walked to the kitchen, “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Delphini Potter-Black was Harry’s little girl. She may have been the product of a madman and his insane lover, but she was Harry’s daughter in every way that counted. Even the DNA comparison had shown an eighty per cent probability of paternity. The blood that Pettigrew had taken from Harry at the end of the Triwizard Tournament for the ritual to resurrect Voldemort, had played an unintended role. Voldemort may not have intended it, but Delphi had strongly inherited Harry’s genes.
Delphi had inherited Harry’s abnormal flying skills and his skills at defensive magic. Not to mention his ‘saving-people’ trait and his general stubbornness.
Although Delphi’s presence had driven Ron away, Harry never regretted his decision to be a father. Ron never understood why Harry would take the daughter of the two people he despised the most, but Ron hadn’t been there when Harry had rescued baby Delphi. She had only seen his memories and just thinking about it made her blood boil.
Delphi would have grown up to become the next Dark Witch if she had been left where he had found her. Still today, she remembered the bloody mess Harry’s ICW investigator friend had made by literally beating the truth out of both Lucius and Draco Malfoy. Even though she didn’t condone violence, none of the Malfoys will ever have any recollection of the incident or about Delphi’s origins ever again, they will just unknowingly live with the scars left behind, and for that she was grateful.
“Aunt Hermione, aunt Hermione,” The girl was so excited, “I got a new pet.”
“Did you?” She cooed at the cute ten-year-old sitting on her hips, “Daddy finally gave in huh?”
“He did!” The little girl giggled beautifully.
“I’ll call her.” Delphi turned to the stairs and called then, “Tippy!”
There was silence when the flapping of wings grew louder. Down the stairs came flying a crimson feathered bird with golden ember on its long tail. With mean-looking black eyes and large talons on its legs. There was no doubt, it was a phoenix, maybe not yet a fully-grown one, but it was still a bloody phoenix.
The magical creature settled on Delphi’s right hand and tilted her head sideways and trilled at her, eyeing curiously.
“HARRY!”
“You got her a phoenix?! Have you lost your bloody mind?!” Hermione’s voice echoed through the house, “If she wanted a pet, buy her an owl or a cat? Not a bloody phoenix! You know they’re extremely difficult to domesticate.”
Harry meanwhile was too busy admiring her passionate response, ‘Look at her go!’ Her hands on her hips, wild hair flying about, a fiery personality, God, she reminded him of being a child meeting her for the first time. He loved her, and he knew that she loved him, if only she loved him back the way he loved her, things would be so much happier.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” She demanded as she finished ranting, tapping her foot softly.
“I didn’t buy her a phoenix. It’s illegal to buy them or sell them.” Harry was calm as he said, “She stole it.”
“I did not!” Delphi screamed as she peeked her head into the living room.
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Stop it, the lot of you!” Hermione snapped at them both, her voice turning sweet as she turned, “Delphi, sweetheart, go watch the telly.”
Not liking the tension, the girl vigorously nodded her head and bounced on her feet as she went to the telly to resume the animated movie she was watching.
And then Hermione turned to her idiot lover, her voice turning sharp once again, “Explain. What do you mean she stole it?”
Harry bit his lips, thinking of the right way to say it, “Do you remember Ollivander’s great-granddaughter? The one with the pregnancy complication I helped with a few years back?”
“Cecilia…” Hermione frowned in confusion, but recalled the name and offered anyway.
“Yes, her.” Harry brightened, “Her father gave me a memento, remember?”
“The fossilised egg in your office.” Hermione nodded and then it dawned on her. Her eyes widened as the realisation settled, “Ohhh…!”
“Yes.” Harry grinned as he gave a dramatic nod, “Turns out, it wasn’t exactly a fossilised egg. It was also a phoenix egg. Just really, really old. Delphi nicked it from my office and hid it under her bed two weeks ago. It didn’t mean much to me, so I didn’t make a fuss about it. I checked the hospital and I filed a complaint, but I didn’t think that I was the one harbouring the culprit.”
“And it hatched?” Hermione inquired logically.
“It hatched. Nearly burned down the bed too. Thankfully the wards kicked in and extinguished the flames.” Harry gave a heavy nod, “Magic, it does mysterious things. Tippy and Delphi are now bonded.”
She couldn’t help but sigh as she muttered audibly enough, “This could only happen to you.”
She walked over to him and sat sideways on his lap. He automatically wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed into his chest. Ever since Delphi began to talk, Harry had mastered the ability to listen, he was a good listener. It helped that she could rant to him until his ears bled and he would still listen to her patiently.
“Delphi’s starting Hogwarts in September. What will you do then? She can’t leave Tippy here at home if she’s bonded. And you can’t domesticate it.”
Harry gave her a look, “Okay, maybe you can.” She admitted, Harry was an animagus wizard, taking the form of an Osprey and he had his pet herd of Hippogriffs in the backyard. Phoenixes knew how to measure the sense of power in a witch or wizard, as the Master of the Elder Wand, Harry was not a wizard to be trifled with, he could reign a phoenix in with some difficulty.
“But what happens when you go to work or a Wizengamot meeting. It could easily burn down the house by accident. Tippy will not listen to you completely, only to Delphi.”
Harry gave a nod of agreement, “I’ve given this a lot of thought. Tippy likes Delphi, and she likes her. Since the two are bonded, separating them doesn’t seem fair. Maybe I can talk to Minerva about making an exception so that she can keep Tippy in her dorm or someplace else. Hagrid will be there; the staffs will have a good idea of what they’re dealing with. I can write them a large check as a donation for the school board and maybe convince them.”
Hermione frowned at that. Harry wouldn’t spend a knut on himself without calculating a hundred times, but when it came to her, Teddy or Delphi he would literally spend thousands and thousands of Galleons on a whim. But she didn’t like the idea of Harry throwing money at a problem to smooth things over.
“It doesn’t seem fair.” She muttered softly, “Beyond being your daughter, she will have to contend with having a Phoenix as a familiar in school. They will think of her as this entitled spoilt little girl. She would have a hard time making friends.”
Harry sighed tiredly and kissed the side of her head, “That’s what I’ve been worried about. But I think she’ll be fine.”
She gave him a look of surprise. To which he smirked, “I talked to Andi and your parents, asked them for advice. And they’re right, I can’t keep shielding Delphi from everything. She’ll never learn how to navigate through a problem if I solved all her problems for her.”
“Delphi has her friends here, all of whom will be going to Hogwarts with her. She’s stubborn and strong, maybe it’s time to let her make her own choices. Not much I can do with her spending nine months at Hogwarts anyway. Might as well prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”
Her smile grew wider and wider. He had become so mature, and she had never loved him more. Maybe her parents were right, it was time to just wear that ring. David and Olivia Granger kept trying to insinuate that she should give her idiot lover a chance. She was often teased by her mother for the fact that she chose to take the ring Harry had given her and keep it, that it was her way of accepting his proposal. And the fact that Harry hadn’t asked her back for it and that she had chosen not to give it back to him, was more evidence that they both wanted the same thing, eventually at least.
“Want to talk about, Ron?” Harry queried softly, giving her a small peck on her temple.
She shook her head and snuggled in closer, “No.”
He chuckled at her abrupt ‘no’, “Very well,” He agreed, “Will you be staying over?”
She couldn’t help but grin and give him a nod, “Yes.”
“Then it’s time I started making lunch.” He stood up while effortlessly lifting her with him.
“I’ll help.” She quickly offered and with that, they headed to the kitchen to get started.
She couldn’t help but smile at him as he kept staring at the ring as he held her hand in his, the diamond ring that was no longer on her neck linked to a chain, but rather on her ring finger. It was long past time she had worn this.
Delphi was tucked in bed after an exhausting day of running around, and the night was still young. It always lightened her mood when she was like this, snuggled up against him in bed. It was one of those things she often looked forward to during a hectic week.
She bumped her elbow lightly into his ribs, making him jump a little, “Owww.”
“Stop looking so smug.” She chastised softly, “Keep in mind that it took you one year to convince me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He agreed with a mock grin.
As they rested in the comfort of their presence in the warm bed, she remembered how this could have been them as teenagers. Harry had been completely oblivious to her cues back then, but then again, he was oblivious to cues of the half the female population in school, so she didn’t mind it all that much. If only she had told him her feelings in their fifth year or their third year and gotten him thinking about her. Or if they had made an effort to talk after the war ended like they had promised each other after that night in the tent. So many missed opportunities, so many missed moments and time. It made her sigh.
“You still love him?” He slipped the question in coolly and somehow it didn’t ruin the moment.
"You know I don't." It was just so easy to talk to him, “No. I just hate the fact that he’s getting married and being happy. I must be bloody mad if I’m upset over this.”
Harry just chuckled as he pulled her closer to his chest, tighter, “You’re not mad, you’re just like everyone else. Normal. Nobody wants their ex-husbands to be happy. Some of my ex-girlfriends want me dead.”
She giggled at that; Harry was enormously unsuccessful at relationships, especially after Delphi began running around the home. She remembered that one particular witch, Sophie who had tried to poison him after their breakup, when she found out that Harry had sort of had a relationship with her mother before he had met her, which is why he had broken up with her when he found out who her mother was. Unfortunately, the poisoning had left Harry’s stomach upset for a week, and kept him running to the toilet, it had been one of the driving factors why he had devoted his life and soul in pursuit of medicinal magic.
“It just bothers me. He was just so happy to move on after the divorce. I don’t think he ever really cared about me. I think, he just wanted me because he didn’t want anyone else to be with me.”
“Ron’s biggest fear was you choosing someone else over him.” He explained, “I saw it. The Horcrux, that locket showed him his fear back during the war. I never told you. I should have.”
“W-what?”
He ignored her surprise, “The moment he won you over, the instant you did choose to marry him. The magic was over. He won. It wasn’t a challenge anymore, not as exciting. Ron was never too good at working hard was he, only tries when he wants something badly. But when he won, he didn’t have to work hard anymore. But when you joined the Ministry and started attracting others, he panicked and proposed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked confused.
“Code amongst men. Sacred.” He joked and she slapped his chest, making him chuckle.
She pouted, “You should have told me.”
“I did think about it for a while before you both married, but in the end, it was Ron’s deepest fear and it wasn’t my place to tell.”
As she looked back on their marriage, Harry’s reasoning made sense, “I bet he was hoping that even if he stopped trying, we would still be best friends and that was enough for a marriage to work. Except, he and I were never best friends, not really, he was your best friend, I was your best friend, we were friends but we were never too close. We didn’t have anything in common. The only thing in common between us was you. And when you weren’t there anymore, nothing was holding us together. And when he stopped trying, all of it ended.”
“Don’t regret it, love.” He whispered to her, his gravelly voice was soothing, “Don’t regret the past. Everything that happened, had to happen for us to reach here.”
She raised her head from his chest to look up at him, “When did you become so wise?”
“I have my moments.” He grinned and she giggled with him.
“Want to hear something that will set your mind at ease?” He asked softly.
Hermione looked intrigued, “Yes.”
“Gemma’s pregnant.” He just smirked as he said it.
“What?!”
He nodded his head vigorously, grinning, “She’s pregnant. Three months. I found out two weeks ago. She came by the hospital, she had some doubts and wanted it cleared, I volunteered to help. I also referenced her to Angelina’s friend Sarah at the hospital.”
She immediately sat up on the bed, “You’re not joking, are you?”
Harry shook his head, “At the time, I thought that maybe they were keeping it a secret or as a surprise.”
“I don’t know all the details; all I know is what Fleur told me yesterday. Ron wasn’t thrilled about the pregnancy and asked her if she would reconsider, but she wants the child. She gave him an out, basically told him that if he didn’t want to be involved then she would do it herself. But Molly found out and put her foot down. That’s why they’re announcing the engagement now.”
Hermione didn’t know why that made her smile but she was smiling as she laid her head back on his hand, adjusting to his chest a little. Ron’s marriage wasn’t perfect, she no longer had any reason to be sad. She knew how shallow it made her seem, but she didn’t care, not about this. She was allowed to have a little guilty pleasure.
“Feeling better?” His voice whispered in her ear.
She coyly shrugged at him, “A little.”
As much as she enjoyed the kiss he gave her on her cheekbone, which could easily escalate into something sweet and hot and end with him keeping her up the whole night, she knew it was time to set some ground rules, “You know, we’re not getting married for another year, right?”
“What? Another year? Why?” He looked appalled as he sputtered.
She devilishly grinned, “Because I said so, that’s why. And it's non-negotiable.” She bopped him on his nose with her finger.
Quickly recovering from the shock, he grinned back, “Then I have a non-negotiable term as well.”
“Okay, let’s hear it then,” She gave him her standard mock bossy expression.
“You’re moving in with me and Delphi, like tomorrow.” Harry was smugly grinning at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, “You know I have a committee meeting tomorrow.”
“Not my problem.” He looked so smug that she so badly wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Friday.” She negotiated.
“No.”
“Fine Wednesday then…”
Harry still shook his head smirking, “Non-negotiable sweetheart.”
Hermione weighed her options. She couldn’t let him win here; it would set a bad precedent. She grinned deviously which instantly worried him, “Okay, you can move all my stuff here tomorrow, while I’ll be at work.”
“What? You can’t do that.”
“You want me here that bad. Then it’s time you worked for it.” She grinned back, ‘Gotcha!’
“Damn!” He muttered under his breath, which only made her grin harder.
Harry looked like a sad puppy and that almost made her relent before she grew wise to his ploy. He sulked for a few more moments before he took a deep breath and regained his swagger. He did want her home badly, so it was time he put his rusty magical skills to the test.
As they fell into a comfortable silence, she found herself wondering how it would change everything. She absolutely wanted to be closer to Harry and Delphi, she loved them both with all her heart. But she will have to give the place a more feminine touch. Harry’s idea of decorating a room often meant putting a single chair in the middle to sit and watch the telly, and that simply won’t do. And Delphi was growing up more like Harry, now that was not ideal. She had some ideas for redecoration to rub off some much-needed womanly touch on her favorite little girl.
Down her line of thought came the worry, “Harry, you know this will change everything between us. The ring aside, us being together, even in public.” Some old fears were resurfacing in a moment of worry.
Harry instantly pulled her close and turned her to a kiss that almost burned, kissing away all those worries and fears. She felt his magic pulling on hers, pulsing along with his heartbeat while against hers rapidly just like it always did. It was a sign of how much she excited him. She had never once felt it dim around her in the last three years. He endlessly desired her, so much so that sometimes it felt like she drowned in his magic and she loved that feeling so much. And she loved the fact that she alone could make his magic so worked up.
“I’ve been ready for this, for a long while now.” He whispered to her lips as they separated for air.
“I love you, Mione.”
Looking at his green orbs, she whispered back even softer, “I love you, Harry James Potter.”
“Oh, yes, I’m in trouble.” The thought just made her grin into his warm shoulder.