Chapter Text
1981
A full moon hung high in the relentlessly black sky, all the stars obscured ominously. Blasts of different colored magic and screams echoed through the air around Lestrange Manor. In a large ballroom, Ron Weasley lay facedown on the floor unmoving, blood pooling in a slowly widening circle under his body. Hermione Potter was still fighting, but she was slowly being driven further back from Harry as her spells slid off a fully transformed Fenrir Greyback. The large werewolf was managing to advance despite the speed and ferocity of her magic. Hermione’s flagging reserves and Fenrir’s natural resistance to magic were working against Hermione as she was slowly backed into a corner.
Twenty-six-year-old Harry Potter stood not far from his wife, locked in his own battle. Harry had his feet planted wide to brace himself as he held the elder wand with two hands, facing Voldemort. Violently bright red magic poured like a spout from the end of Harry’s wand, smashing against the toxic green of Voldemort’s. Hermione shrieked as Greyback suddenly slashed perilously close to her face, the brush of his claws a whisper away from her skin.
“Hermione!” Harry yelled, his eyes darting to the side from where he was locked in combat with Voldemort. All of Harry’s magic was wrapped into the fight with Voldemort; if he tried to break it, Voldemort’s death curse would slam into him. “Transform! Right now!”
“Your filthy little mudblood is about to die. At least we branded her first.” Voldemort gritted out maliciously, his red eyes shining madly.
Fenrir Greyback’s wolf form was huge, bigger than Hermione remembered Professor Lupin being, and his flat, muddy eyes were fixed on her, drool hanging from his snout. If she transformed into her animagus, she did not doubt that Greyback would snap her in two in even less time.
Unnoticed by all of them, Ron rolled weakly onto his side, his eyes going to where Greyback was advancing relentlessly on Hermione. To the immediate right of the fight, there was a large concrete statue of some random ancestor of the Lestranges. Clenching his wand in his bloody fist, he aimed a knockback jinx at the pedestal, then passed out.
The pedestal rocked backward with the power of the spell while the heavy concrete statue crashed forward directly on top of Greyback with a sickening crunch. Greyback’s wild eyes were fixed on Hermione still as an enraged howl mixed with the thunderous crash of the pretentious statue. Voldemort flinched at the sound of Greyback falling and wavered in battle, his magic dimming briefly. Harry’s magic surged in response, sensing the weakness, and cut through Voldemort's magic, slamming into his chest.
For a fraught moment where all the sound seemed to have been sucked from the room Voldemort hung suspended in the air Harry’s magic ripping into him. Voldemort’s mouth was open in a silent scream as magic seemed to pulse in the air, and then he exploded into a black cloud of dust. Harry turned immediately to Hermione, running over to her where she had fallen back, her wand still pointed shakily at Greyback, pinned and snarling under the statue, his eyes never wavering from her.
“Hermione!” Harry pulled her up, hugging her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Ron—” Her breath caught, and they both said his name at the same time, turning to where their friend had fallen. “Ron!”
In the few seconds that Harry and Hermione had been distracted by each other, the black cloud that Voldemort had disintegrated into had not abated. It had grown, and the dark swirls touched the tip of Ron’s lax hand. Ron’s skin crumbled, blackening as the cloud swallowed him.
“Oh god, Ron!” Hermione screamed, running to Ron. Harry’s hand snapped out lightning quick, grabbing her to yank her back, but it was too late. The tip of Hermione’s outstretched hand touched the edge of the cloud, and immediately her skin began to darken.
“Oh, no.” Harry’s ribs compressed, driving out all his air, he could barely whisper. “No, no, no.”
Hermione met his eyes, her brown eyes shining with tears. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”
“No!” Harry came to awareness screaming in a dark, blurry room. His hands ripped at the blankets, trapping him, and he fell out of bed. His mouth was open gasping trying desperately to suck in air while his heart wanted to rip itself out of his chest.
Oh god. Hermione.
“Hermione!’ He shouted again, his hands searching frantically around him. An owl hooted and he turned blindly toward the sound, seeing the open window and the moon still shining down on a snowy white owl.
What the hell?
Where was he?
Where was she?
Harry grasped the familiar feel of his specs atop a bedside table and then spotted his wand conveniently next to them. He tried to stand and stumbled before correcting himself, his limbs feeling odd.
“Lumos.” He was in a large bedroom decorated in muted reds and ornate dark wood paneling. The magic of the house pressed on him slightly as if trying to wrap him in a warm embrace. The weight and intensity of the wards were impressive, and strangely enough, Harry could feel a connection to them. He would not be able to apparate within these walls. In the open window perched an owl that looked like Hedwig's twin. The owl twisted his head, looking at him inquisitively and hooted softly.
This definitely wasn’t Lestrange Manor.
Harry turned away from the owl, ignoring the way his heart leapt at seeing it. He had one goal right now. Find Hermione. Harry ran to the door, yanking it open to a long hallway where a nearby door opened close to him
Harry’s foot fell back as he took a dueling stance, standing sideways so he was a narrower target area as he raised his wand. The redhead who poked out of the other doorway made his wand drop back down, though. “Ron?”
“Harry? Was that you screaming?” Ron rubbed his head a little, bewildered. “Fuck, mate. You would not believe the dream I just had. There was a werewolf, and I was dying, and then there was this bloody cloud that ate me!”
Harry ran to Ron and hugged him tightly. “Oh, god. I thought you’d died. Where’s Hermione?”
Ron awkwardly patted Harry on the back. “What?”
Over Ron’s shoulder, Harry noticed movement down the corridor, another door opening, and a teenage girl stepped out. Lightning quick, Harry spun, pushing Ron behind him as his wand came up in defense. He ignored Ron’s sputtering as he studied the approaching witch. Death Eaters came in all ages.
The short girl with long, messy black hair stopped and put her hands on her hips, asking in an annoyed tone, “What are you two idiots doing, screaming at one in the morning?”
“Don’t come any closer,” Harry ordered the girl.
She didn’t listen to Harry, though, and kept coming closer to him and Ron.
“Diffindo.” The cutting spell arced out of Harry’s wand with a sharp slash, cutting deeply into the carpet in front of the girl. “Step over that line and I’ll cut a piece of you off next,” Harry said, low and vicious, his wand clenched firmly in one hand while the other was fisted in Ron’s shirt holding him back. Ron seemed to be experiencing memory issues related to whatever had happened after Voldemort's death. Who knows what the extent of the injuries and blood loss might have done to him?
The girl froze, her eyes wide and shocked. “Harry…”
“Harry, mate, what are you doing?” Another voice from behind Harry made him slam violently backward, squishing Ron against the wall as he tried to protect him.
“Oof,” Ron grunted as his friend pancaked him against the wall. “Harry—”
Harry blinked rapidly, looking at a face he hadn’t seen in years. “Neville?”
Ron cleared his throat, still trying to shove Harry off him, but Harry refused to move, trying to crush him into the wall. “Mate? Some air, please?”
“Where’s Hermione, Ron?” Harry asked him, his eyes darting between Neville and the girl on the other of him. Neville and the girl were boxing him and Ron in, approaching from both sides. If they got much closer, it would be harder for Harry to fight his way out while protecting Ron.
How had they taken Neville’s face from him, though? A powerful legilimens, perhaps. But dreams of the last battle where Neville had died didn’t come often, and Harry had perfected his occulmency. The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck lifted at what seeing Neville might mean. Either way, he couldn’t, wouldn’t focus on it now. The priority was Hermione. He already had Ron. Harry would find her, and they’d figure it out together.
“Who?” Neville and the girl asked.
“Haz, mate, just relax, and let’s figure this out,” Ron said, patting Harry awkwardly from the back.
Haz? What the fuck was that? “Where are we?” Harry asked, ignoring Ron’s strange behavior. He already had his plan, and he wasn’t wavering. Harry would get himself and Ron someplace safe, find Hermione, and then together they’d figure out what happened.
“We’re at home, Harry.” The girl said quietly, still not crossing the line he had cut into the floor in front of her. The look on her face made guilt twinge in Harry’s chest. “Let me get Mum and Dad, we’ll figure out what’s wrong, okay?”
Zinnia.
My little sister.
Harry’s wand wavered before his hand tightened, and he pushed the intrusive thoughts away. Sucking in a deep breath, he partitioned his mind, pushing away the strange thoughts that were suddenly there.
I’m at Potters Peak. Home.
No. Harry kept his wand hand steady, resisting the battering against his occlumency shields. If the thoughts were right, then they could wait until Harry found Hermione. If they weren’t, then it was better to leave now and figure out this bizarre trap later. One thing Harry knew for certain was that he didn’t want to meet his little sister’s parents. At least not yet.
The fact that no one seemed to know Hermione was already making his chest try to shrivel. He could still see that blackness traveling up her hand.
"We can’t mess with time, Harry. Bad things can happen." Hermione was hunched over, bruises and cuts all over her. The last battle had taken everything from them.
"What could be worse than everyone dead? " Harry couldn't see the downside of breaking another one of the taboos of magic. If they could save everyone --- why not travel back in time?
No. Harry would find her. He wasn’t going to pay attention to the crazy thoughts trying to battle his occlumency shields, the weird face of Neville. The girl his mind told him he loved. Harry refused to face all of it. Not yet. Not until he had Hermione.
While Harry had spiraled, both Neville and Zinny (bloody hell, his sister’s nickname) had gotten closer, boxing him in. Harry knew he couldn’t bring himself to cast at the witch; his soul was rebelling at upsetting, so he turned to Neville instead. “Neville, get out of my way.”
The paranoid part of Harry was trying to figure out how the Death Eaters would have mimicked Neville’s face or made him feel that way about the girl staring at him with a worried face. But resolve tightened his grip on his wand, he wouldn’t hesitate. He had his priority. He couldn’t risk getting captured, and he didn’t have the time to investigate whatever was happening here, not with Hermione missing.
Neville had remained frozen, his hands low but slightly spread as if he was urging calm silently. “Harry–”
“Don’t make me hurt you. Get to the other side now.” Harry snapped at Neville, moving further away from the girl Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to cast at and closer to Neville.
“Haz let’s just take a minute–” Neville urged.
“Imperio!” Ron and the girl down the hallway screamed at the same time as the spell, weaker than it should be, barreled into Neville. Neville turned at Harry’s silent direction and ran across the hallway to tackle the girl. She was still screaming as Neville knocked her over in a tangle of limbs on the floor.
“What the fuck, Harry!” Ron screamed as Harry dragged him down the corridor, looking frantically left and right for the exit before he spotted the stairs.
Harry’s magic felt weak. Was it just because he didn’t have the Elder Wand? “We need to get outside, Ron,” Harry told him shortly.
“Why?”
“Fuck, Ron, just help me get outside!”
Ron stopped, turning and pulling Harry in the opposite direction. “This way, there’s a side door here.”
Harry could see the windows and sense the ward line a few meters beyond it. The door gave easily, with no charms or locks to keep them trapped inside. As they stepped out, Harry heard voices yelling his name.
“Harry, your dad—”
“My what?” Harry shook his head, ignoring it again. He and Ron were running across a manicured lawn edged with a low stone wall. The ward was anchored to that low stone wall Harry knew, if they could get across it, they’d be able to disapparate.
Harry ignored Ron’s strange rambles. Once they were safe, he’d try to fix him or knock him out until he got to Hermione. Ron was digging in his heels, though, while Harry dragged him across the lawn as quickly as possible to the stone wall. He just had to get Ron across the ward line. A low hop and freedom.
“Harry!” A man roared from the house. All the lights suddenly flared brightly and the impressive structure was revealed in the dark night. The manor house was large, perhaps even larger than the Lestrange and Malfoy Manors, no wonder the magic had seemed so settled. Definitely a pureblood’s home.
My home.
Ron froze, his eyes wide on the wrong side of the stone wall. Harry yanked him backward over the wall, where he flopped and fell to the ground. Harry looked up just before apparated away to see four people bursting from the household after them.
A tall man with black hair and glasses was in the front. The man was wearing pajamas, and his wand was pointed in Harry’s direction. To his side was a shorter woman with long, wavy, red hair; her hands were bare, but that didn’t matter when Harry could sense the power from the man in the lead.
Mum and Dad.
James and Lily Potter.
“Bloody hell,” Harry whispered, staring at them frozen for a long moment before shaking it off abruptly.
I need Hermione.
The man’s hands rose in a pleading gesture, “Son–”
Harry apparated away with Ron.
Hermione Potter woke up with a short scream that turned to sobbing her hands bunched into fists as she still tried to reassure Harry. “It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt.”
The air was cool around her, contrasting with the warm, soft bed she was lying in as her voice trailed off slowly. Her insides were still twisting with fear and grief. Her hand clenched again, and she realized it felt normal. What had happened? If she was okay, where was Harry? Was he okay? Was Ron okay?
Hermione spotted her wand on the table next to her in the darkness and grabbed it, trying to quiet her harsh breathing. The magic of the house she was in pressed on her, the wards feeling old and powerful. There would be no leaving this house unless she crossed the ward line or found a floo.
She needed to escape, but first, she had to find out if Harry was here. Hermione slowly got off the bed, her ears straining in the hushed silence to hear the slightest sound. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob, half expecting to find it spelled shut. But the knob twisted easily under her hand, and she pushed the door slowly open to a long, dark corridor.
There were rows and rows of doors and fear twisted inside Hermione on what she might find on the other side of those doors. She crept slowly down the dark corridor, her body angled to make herself a smaller target, her wand outstretched and ready to engage at a moment’s notice.
At the end of the corridor was a long spiraling ornate staircase, and she went down step by step, praying that they would not creak and betray her presence. The dark walls of the place seemed so oppressive, the coldness even more apparent outside the faux safety of the bedroom she had woken up in.
At the bottom of the staircase, Hermione paused, looking around carefully. The entry hall looked disturbingly familiar. She took a cautious step forward, her skin feeling tight, her entire body revolting against moving further toward the foyer beyond. Then she turned to the left and realized why. She was in Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her just a few yards away from where she was currently standing.
Her stomach clenched as nausea rushed through her and Hermione stumbled backward towards the main entrance, almost falling on her bum while she tried to distance herself from that room. A small glowing cat darted up to her. Harry’s voice whispered to her, “Hermione if you can come to where Ron and the twins took me in the Anglia.”
Turning Hermione stumbled toward the large double doors scrambling at the handle. What was Harry talking about? Anglia?
“Hermione?” A quiet voice asked.
Hermione turned to see an older boy with dark curly hair and deep blue eyes watching her with a concerned face. Her wand whipped up between them as the handle gave beneath her fumbling and she backed out the door. “Don’t come any closer.”
The boy frowned, his head turning slightly as his voice raised. “Luna?”
Hermione’s eyes widened as she looked beyond him to see Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy approaching slowly. What? What were they doing here? It didn’t make sense.
Luna’s eyes seemed to catch the moonlight as she stared at Hermione. “Are you leaving without your shoes, Hermione? You’ll hurt your feet.”
Hermione battled the mad impulse to laugh as hysteria bubbled up out of nowhere inside her. She wasn’t sure where to meet Harry. His message was too cryptic for her to parse with her thoughts flying in too many directions. Her memory of this place was starting to replay vividly in her mind, burning away coherent thoughts.
Filthy little mudblood. Bellatrix’s ghost whispered with relish into her ear. Even so long from the memory, the darkness of her eyes had never left Hermione’s nightmares.
“I’m leaving,” Hermione told Luna, ignoring Malfoy and the other boy. “Don’t try to stop me or you’ll regret it.”
“Hermione.” The other boy said, some soft emotion in his voice again. The way he said her name made something in Hermione revolt.
Theodore Nott. The name drifted slowly to the front of her mind as Hermione paused for only a moment before turning away from those strangely pleading deep blue eyes. Hermione ran for the large black gate with an ostentatiously elaborate M sprawled in the wrought iron.
Looking back, she saw them following her at a distance, their faces confused. Hermione didn’t make the mistake of touching the gate. Who knew what protection charms the Malfoys had sunk into it. She focused on Malfoy, pointing her wand at him again. “Open it.”
“I–” Malfoy began and Hermione braced herself to make him knowing a denial was coming.
But Luna cut Malfoy off, her hand reaching out to grasp his shoulder from behind. “Open it, Draco.”
Hermione wanted to gag at that sight, her lip curling in distaste. Nott turned to them, his eyes wide. “What? No! Something is wrong with her; we have to get a doctor or something! Not let her run around and hurt herself!”
“Open it,” Luna ordered Malfoy again before Hermione could threaten them.
Hermione’s protego popped into existence as Malfoy’s wand rose. His hand slashed down quickly, and the heavy gate swung open slightly. Hermione stepped outside the ward and apparated away from the strange trio and the two boys who started screaming at each other.
Notes:
Interesting tags, don't you think? I was going to hold on off this one but eh. I've been struggling with writing b/c I'm NOT letting myself write this one so I'm hoping publishing it will sort of shelve it as "in progress" in my mind so I can hop back onto my WIP fics.
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Chapter Text
“ But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.” James Charlus Potter finished the story with a flourish to his children sitting on his lap, exactly as his father had told it to him.
Eight-year-old Harry stared down at the large old book in his father’s hands. His glasses, the bane of his mother's existence, were again smudged and slightly crooked as they rested on his face. “And you have the cloak, Daddy?”
“And you’ll have it too one day.” James leaned over and kissed the top of Harry’s head.
“Ugh.” Zinnia pouted. Unlike her brother, her vision was perfect, but if anything, her hair was a bit wilder. “But if Haz gets that — what do I get, Daddy?”
Harry poked his little sister’s side. “Be nice, Zinny, and I’ll share with you.”
“But I don’t want to be nice.” Zinnia poked her brother back harder. “I want something too! Like the elder wand!”
“Princess–” James began.
“You didn’t pay attention, Zinny. The wand is bad!”
“It’s not bad. Antioch was just dumb and let everyone know he had it! I would be smarter.” Zinnia had no doubt she was smarter than some dumb wizards who had made a deal with Death.
“I don’t have the wand.” James cut in before his two children could start squabbling. “But…” James smiled slowly at his daughter. “I do have something I think you’ll like…”
Both children looked up with bright eyes, curious about what other treasures their father might have.
“What! Tell me!” Zinnia asked excitedly.
“What will Zinny get?”
“There is this very special map…”
Hermione apparated to the one place she had always associated with safety and appeared in the field beyond the Burrow. She took a step and stumbled at the sudden, intense stabbing pain in her head, her hands going up to her head. It felt like nails were being driven into her skull.
The pain made it difficult to think as if her brain was being riddled with holes that her thoughts disappeared in. She tried to focus on the fact that Harry had sent a Patronus. It had to mean that he was in a safe enough place to cast the spell and send the message. That meant it was likely safe to send her own Patronus to Harry to tell him her location. Shakily, she lowered her hands, about to cast her own Patronus, when the blemish-free skin of her left arm caught her attention.
Her thoughts scattered again, as her eyes remained locked on the smooth skin of her arm. Why was it gone? She drew trembling fingers over her skin, half expecting to feel the raised edges of the scar. The pain in her head was radiating down from her head like it was being carried through her veins. None of this made sense. Waking up at Malfoy Manor? Seeing Draco and Luna? The other boy with the blue eyes. Theo. Even thinking the name made her head throb as if her brain had turned into one big nerve ending that was being carelessly smashed.
She had to think logically. Hermione had seen several healers who had all told her the scar couldn’t be healed or removed. It remained as fresh and red as the day Bellatrix had gleefully carved it into her skin. It ached every single day. A constant thread of pain that had slowly chiseled her into the person she was now. Hermione had made her peace with the scar, and it had become part of who she was — a horrific badge of sorts. A battle scar to show how much the war had taken from her. To show what she had survived. Harry had helped her see it that way...
The door of the small healer's office clicked closed behind the specialized healer who had come highly recommended. The healer who had specialized in cursed wounds and had been Hermione's last hope of getting the scar removed, or at least lessen the daily pain. Once Hermione was left alone with Harry, she let the brave front she had kept up in front of the healer go, and her body trembled. She sniffled, trying to hold back tears as she leaned into Harry, both of them looking at the red scar on her arm. Harry reached out, gently grasping her arm to pull it closer to him, over his lap. He was careful not to touch anywhere near the cuts.
"It's so ugly, isn't it?"
Harry gave her a sharp glance, his hand tightening on her, refusing to let her pull away.“You survived, Hermione! This scar shows everyone how brave you are and what you went through. You are amazing. And I—”
“You what?”
Harry swallowed, faltering slightly as his eyes dropped to her arm, the slur bright red against her skin. His head lowered as he pressed a kiss to her wrist, just before the last letter. Then his eyes met hers again as he whispered against her skin, “I love you.”
And now the scar was gone.
Far from making Hermione happy, instead, she felt almost sick as if she had been violated. Changed again without her permission. Perhaps she had gone mental. Perhaps some Death Eater or Voldemort himself was stomping around in her head, looking for information. A sob escaped, as Hermione tried to figure out what to do next. Hadn't she thought of something? Wasn't she going to get help...
She should go to Theo; he could help her.
Hermione grasped her wand before she realized it, and she dropped it again with a pained shout. “No! No! No!” Hermione leaned forward, wrapping her arms around herself, and rocking back and forth on the ground as she knelt there. She swallowed convulsively, her stomach tightening.
She didn’t want that person! She barely knew that person! Hermione wanted her husband! She wanted Harry!
“Hermione!”
She heard Harry, but she didn’t move, still whispering denials to herself. He was in her mind, it was all in her mind, and her mind was being ripped apart. None of this was real. What if —
“Hermione!” Strong hands grasped her, jerking her up. Hermione's reflexes kicked in, and she suddenly pointed her wand at Harry's face. He didn't even react to the wand in his face, scanning her to make sure she was okay. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
Hermione stared at the teenager holding her, who looked like Harry but wasn’t. “Get your hands off me.” She jerked back from the fake Harry so hard she fell on her bum in the dirt.
Harry froze his hands reaching out to her. “Hermione, it's me. It’s Harry. I think we won– I think we did it, we fixed everything and now —” He glanced back, gesturing, and Ron’s body floated into view.
Hermione screamed, jumping up. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing! Goddamnit! You know I wouldn’t — he’s fine! He just kept acting strange, and I couldn’t control him; he wanted to go back to my…” Harry trailed off as Hermione paused between him and Ron’s body floating close courtesy of a quick mobilicorpus.
“To your what?”
“My father.”
Hermione’s hand went shakily to her head, flinching, and Harry made to move closer to her, but Hermione held up her hand quickly. “Stop, wait. Let me think. You… you look different, you know. Did you notice?”
Harry’s hand immediately went to his forehead, then the skin around his neck. Those were the obvious differences, same as what Hermione had found missing on her own body. But with Harry, his physical appearance was different too; he was taller and broader than he had been. Her Harry had been lean and not too tall, just a few inches taller than her. This Harry was much closer to the body type of Ron or Viktor Krum. After glancing at himself, Harry's eyes darted over to Ron’s arms, noting the missing scars from the brain tentacles. “Fucking hell.”
“I —” Hermione cut off with a sharp moan, falling to her knees again, hunched over with her hands fisted in her hair. “God, it hurts.”
Harry moved to Hermione immediately, crouching over her. “What? What hurts?” He asked, trying not to panic, thinking about the strange cloud she had touched before he woke up. Harry waved his wand above her, inspecting the simple medical diagnostic spells that spun above Hermione. “Hermione, tell me what hurts.”
“My head! I can hardly think! And I want to—” Hermione cut off with another groan, shaking her head. “I don’t know if this is real! I don’t! I don’t want Theo!”
“What? Who?” Hermione was too preoccupied with pain to stop Harry when he reached for her again. He slid his hands around her back and pulled her closer to him, bracing her. He had Hermione now. Anything else was fixable. Hermione shuddered repeatedly, clutching her head, and Harry quickly used legilimency to try to get a better understanding of what she was feeling. Hermione’s mind was jumbled, thoughts and memories that didn’t make sense mixing in with reality. One of the memories pulled at him sharply, and he suddenly found himself immersed in it.
Harry stood next to a grimacing Hermione in one of the corridors of Hogwarts, watching as a brown-haired Slytherin bent over his younger wife, whispering something in her ear that made her smile. The closeness of their two bodies seemed to indicate intimacy between them.
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Theo?” Hermione said with a shrug and grimace.
"What a fucking tosser!" Harry growled.
“Harry?” Hermione said, bringing Harry back from looking through her disjointed memories. There were so many memories that weren't real floating in Hermione's head, trying to rewrite her life.
They hadn't known a Theo, had they? Certainly, not one that would be that close to Hermione! Even knowing the memory was wrong, the thought of some Theo fuck putting his hands on Hermione pissed Harry off. Harry's hand clenched, and he realized he couldn't feel his marriage ring. He was rectifying that for them both posthaste with arseholes like Theo hanging about his wife. Because he had first-hand experience on the importance of occulmency and legilimency Harry had become something of an expert in both. Post Snape's shitty tutelage of course. Immediately, Harry started building walls within his wife’s mind, shoving off those other incorrect memories. However, Harry quickly saw that there was a big fucking problem. Hermione was missing several years of memories already. “Hermione, what did we find in the Chamber of Secrets?”
“The what?”
“Oh, fuck.” Harry worked faster, building walls in her mind, but even he could see the mental blocks were shaky and weren’t going to last. What the fuck. He pulled her up, seeing the easing of her pain and her escalating panic as the temporary walls held.
“H-Harry, I don’t remember — I don’t remember! I —” Hermione cut off as she searched her memories behind the walls Harry had built in her mind. She stopped suddenly and clutched him, finally processing what he had said earlier. “We won?”
“I think so? How else do you explain this?” Harry gestured to himself and Ron, still floating behind him.
“But I thought we'd all just disappear according to the Ministry records and my own research—”
“Even you can be wrong occasionally, love,” Harry said wryly, resting his hands on her, not letting her move too far away as he monitored the walls he built in her mind.
“So with Ron…”
Harry shook his head. “When he first spoke, it seemed like he remembered, but the longer he was awake, the less he seemed to know. When we apparated away, he became more insistent, so I knocked him out to keep him safe. At first, I wasn’t sure this wasn’t some type of bizarre trap.”
“Why didn’t that happen to us? Why didn’t our memories fade so quickly too?” Harry looked at her, thinking she was asking him at first, but Hermione had that thoughtful blindness that said she was turning it over in her mind.
“We’re better at occlumency than Ron?” He offered while he looked internally at his own mental walls, which were holding strong.
Hermione stepped closer to him, resting her head against his chest. Harry gave a small relieved sigh, more tension leaking from his shoulders. With Hermione this close, he could feel the faint pull of her magic as it tried to mix with his own.
“Oh!” Hermione gasped, suddenly pulling back and looking up at him. Her hands grasped his biceps urgently. "Our bond!"
“What?”
“We’re not married here!”
The ambient sounds of the night seemed to die sharply as Harry felt himself jerk, his magic recoiling as if Hermione had wounded him, “What? We are married. We have been for years, you’re my wife –” Harry cut off as Hermione threw her arms around his neck tightly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Shhh, yes! Yes, of course, we’re married!” Hermione whispered quickly against his neck, feeling the panic and anger threading through him. She pressed a kiss against his warm skin as she continued speaking rapidly. “Our memories are tied together because we are tied together! It’s not just a marriage between us—it's a marriage bond! But it's fading — can’t you feel it?”
“It's not fading.” Harry protested even as he realized that was why he couldn’t quite merge his magic with hers any longer, not like before.
Hermione’s hands threaded through his hair, “It's fading Harry, and I think once it’s gone our memories may go too — like you described Ron’s — knowing less and less until we don’t remember anything. I can’t —” Hermione paused, going through her memories. “I don’t remember my childhood. I don’t remember how we met anymore, Harry.” Hermione said on a quavering note. “We were married in that other time, but here, in this time, we aren’t.”
“Then we get married again. Right now. This minute. To make sure nothing else fades.”
“But what If I'm wrong again? What about the people here? If this truly is a different timeline—”
Harry shook Hermione gently to get her to focus on him. “Hermione. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Hermione responded instinctively, her mind still whirling.
“Marry me again, right now. I don't want to forget, and we don't have time. Our story can't end like this after everything we did– forgetting everything.” Harry stopped, his chest aching a bit, saying his next words. “You… you want to remember, right? To remember us?”
“Of course I do! But where will we go? I think — In fact, I’m positive things are different enough here so that we can’t get married.” Hermione’s brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to sort through the competing facts in her head. The Wizengamot in this timeline had passed laws regarding how young witches and wizards could get married…
“We can.” Harry grinned at her. “I know how and where.” He peeked over at the memories crashing against the walls he built in his mind. Oh yeah. He knew exactly how to wife his wife.
Hermione felt the push of Harry’s confidence towards her, and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. What was figuring out how to break a few more Wizengamot laws in the scheme of things, after all? “Okay, let’s get married.”
Harry stared at Hermione's lips for just a second before clearing his throat and looking towards Ron. It was definitely not the time to snog his wife within an inch of her life, no matter that the panic still hadn't left him despite having her right next to him. “I’m saving a lot of kisses for after we’re married again, just so you know.”
Hermione smirked at that look on Harry’s face. It was the one he wore before pulling her into their bedroom. “Okay, well, first thing — what do we do with Ron?”
“Drop him off at the Burrow. The wards will get them out to him. He’ll be fine.”
“But what if—” Hermione began, not really comfortable just leaving Ron on the ground somewhere. There had – in her memories at least – just been a war going on.
“We’ll wait, disillusioned, to make sure they get him.” Harry forestalled her knowingly.
“Okay.”
Harry lowered Ron’s body, knowing the wards would cancel out his mobilicorpus once Ron crossed them and pulled Hermione back to the tree line. He felt the splash of Hermione’s magic as she disillusioned them, both of them waiting tensely for the reaction from the precariously built house in the distance.
Lights came on in the Burrow, and three people exited the house, fanning out rapidly, their wands lit with Lumos spells. As two redheads drew close, Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, her hand fisting in Harry’s pajama shirt. “That’s Fred. Oh, my god. That’s Fred! We really did it.”
“Yeah, we did.” Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione, not taking his eyes off the twins as they called for the rest of their family once they found a knocked-out Ron in the field. “Ready?”
Hermione watched for a few seconds more as Molly began to get after Ron before whispering. “Yeah.”
They disapparated with a crack, leaving their best friend behind with his family.
Notes:
(whispers: what other WIPs! What! I can't -- these bushes-- I'm just--- Working on it! Shit--)
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Chapter 3: The Marrying Tree
Summary:
Harry wifes' his wife and helps the process go a bit more smooth by NOT showing her the thoughts of the other Harry . Then agrees to go talk it out with ... his dad.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry apparated to the edge of a tree line bordering a large manicured lawn with a sprawling mansion in the middle. The mansion’s windows were all bright despite the late hour, the half moon and stars still shining in the dark night. The grass was still slightly damp, and it made Hermione’s feet cold, but it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable.
Still, they needed something to stop walking around barefoot in their pajamas, as Harry pulled her hand toward the mansion, she waved her wand, transfiguring their clothes temporarily. A shirt and trousers for Harry and a summer dress for herself.
“Thanks,” Harry said distractedly, peering at the house.
Hermione looked around for something larger to try to transfigure into some trainers, it would be easier if it was sizable and not a rock, “Where are we?”
“Apparently my home,” Harry muttered, glancing around before stopping just short of a low stone wall.
Hermione froze. “What!” Her eyes flew back to the large mansion, inspecting it more closely.
“Weird, right?” Harry reached out with his magic, testing the wards and trying to peek at the memories of the other him to understand what he could do without getting caught.
“Why wouldn’t anyone have told you if you had a huge bloody mansion!? Why were your parents at Godric’s Hollow and not here? Why couldn’t we have had the Order meetings there?” Hermione asked, thinking of Walburga Black screaming slurs every time she was at Grimmauld. God, that woman’s voice had been so heinous.
“Yeah. I’ll add that to the list of things I should have been told.” Harry said sarcastically. The list of things the adults in his life should have told him was not something he liked to dwell on often because it just made him feel bitter and angry.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Harry James.”
“I’m sorry.” Harry ran a worried hand through his hair. “I’m not sure if I’m right about the alerts on the ward. If I’m wrong, they’re going to catch us too quickly.”
“I’m still not sure what we’re doing here…”
“There’s this tree on our land that I think is going to help us.” Harry immediately felt the brush of Hermione’s mind against his, she was still a bulldozer at legilimency instead of a scalpel. He quickly and carefully showed her the memories of the other him with the Potter marrying tree, not letting her see the other Harry's thoughts as he did. Blimey, that other Harry had been... a bit something else.
The Memories of the other Harry
Harry Meddler Potter
James Chosen Potter!
Come Potter Master
Four-year-old Harry looked up, squinting against the warm summer sunlight. The whispering was distracting him from watching the bugs in the grass. His mum and dad were close by, trying to cheer up his little sister, who absolutely did not want to be outside and was screaming her head off.
Even at four, Harry knew there was no way Zinny was going to calm down, so he figured he’d have fun until his parents gave up and took her inside. But…
Come! Harry
Over here! Potter
Harry looked around curiously, trying to find where the whispers were coming from. In the distance, he spotted an enormous tree, its branches stretching out and its trunk so wide not even Daddy would be able to wrap his arms around it.
He looked back to see his dad making sparkles in his hands as Mum held an extremely red-faced Zinny. Harry figured he could explore a bit more and investigate the whispers. Dad had said that as long as he stayed in the wards, he could go wherever he wanted, and Harry had no intention of crossing the wards. He liked the way the magic inside the wards hugged him. It was very nice.
There he is Time Meddler Welcome
The chosen one Harry Hello Potter
Laughter echoed as Harry approached the tree, the whispers getting excited. He reached out and touched the bark. The tree seemed to shift under his hands; the branches creaking.
“Harry! Don’t get too close to the peak!” James called, jogging up to his son. When James got close he picked Harry up, throwing him into the air briefly, making Harry burst into giggles before hugging him close. “Why did you wander all the way over here?”
“The tree was talking to me, Daddy!” Harry said, a smile on his face as he wrapped his little hands around his father’s neck.
“What was the tree saying?”
Harry thought for a long minute. “Um… hi?”
James laughed, whirling his son around before stopping. “Do you know this is a special tree?”
“Really?”
“It’s the tree every Potter has gotten married under since we claimed this land. Even your mum and me got married here.”
“Oh.” That was not interesting at all.
Eleven-year-old Harry walked slowly towards his favorite spot on the estate, paging through a quidditch book with a large black dog ambling next to him. The sun was shining and the sky was so blue it hurt the eyes. “Dad said they don’t let you play until second year, but I can’t wait! You were a beater, right?”
The large dog gave a wuff in response before stopping to nose the grass. The dog's large paw lifted as if he were about to dig into the grass.
“Mum said she’ll hex you if you dig any more holes,” Harry warned his animagus godfather. Sirius claimed there was a direct correlation between how neat a lawn was and Padfoot’s impulse to dig holes in said lawn. Thus, it was James and Lily’s fault for having such a pretty lawn that needed some holes for balance.
Sirius transformed from a dog with a laugh. “I’ll just hide behind Moony. She never hexes him.”
Harry stopped when he arrived at his favorite place, the marrying tree. Even though the whispers from the marrying tree were quite mental, something still drew him here. He sat between two of the larger roots slightly protruding from the ground and leaned back against the bark, closing his eyes for a minute.
Chosen Where is she where the other one and the other one
Where Harry Meddler! Not yet your wife!
James three Potter soon perhaps its past
Sirius watched his godson close his eyes and tilt his head to the side as if he were listening to something. Ever since Haz had been a small child, he had talked about the whispers from the Potter marrying tree.
None of the research any of them had done seemed to say it was a risk and James had confided in Sirius that he thought it meant his son was going to get married young. “Can you hear the whispers?” Harry nodded. “What are they saying, Haz?”
Harry opened his eyes to look at Sirius with a laugh. “They want to know where my wife is.” Harry stroked the tree root next to him affectionately. “I told you already, I’m not married, you silly tree. I'm only eleven!”
Harry laughed again, and the whispers laughed with him as they ignored Harry's denials and continued to ask about his wife while Sirius looked at him with a slightly perturbed expression.
The snitch flew around sixteen-year-old Harry’s head, and just before it was out of reach, his hand snapped out, capturing it as he sat resting against the marrying tree. Even though he was a chaser like his father, he liked working on his reflexes with a practice snitch. His dad had done the same thing when he was in Hogwarts, too.
It was the start of summer break, and a warm wind chased puffy clouds across the sky. “I guess Dad was wrong that I’ll be married early then or earlier than him at least.” He told the tree. His dad had married at eighteen, but from what he’d told Harry, he’d been in love with his mum for almost half his life by that time. Now Harry liked a lot of girls, but he didn’t love any of them. They were just pretty, and he liked the way they smelled. Well, except Millicent Bulstrode. There was always a strange smell of cabbage around her.
Where? The wife! Harry Chosen
James Who? The three! Potter! Impossible! Potter!
“I think McGonagall is going to pick me as head boy. Dad and Mum were head boy and girl. I wonder who will be head girl.” Harry smirked to himself. he couldn't imagine it being a Slytherin, although Daphne Greengrass stood out. He always felt like she was a female Draco Malfoy, though, so despite her pretty face, he couldn't help but get squicked out at the thought of making out with her. Regardless though he'd probably have a bit of fun with whoever the head girl ended up being. “Not that I particularly care for it, but I’m sure Mum will be happy about it. Quidditch captain is all I really wanted.”
James Potter Death Chosen
Potter! Harry Potter! What will your wife say?
Where is she? Is she here? Harry The Meddler! Potter!
“Why do you call me so many names?” Harry asked the tree, not expecting a response. He’d asked the tree many questions — some at the direction of his parents or uncles — but the tree didn’t answer questions, it only asked him things in return or laughed at him when he was confused.
Strangely, out of all his relatives, Sirius seemed the most ambivalent about the fact that the tree talked to Harry. Sirius had told Harry that if he was getting married young, he better get his practice in first so his wife would be happy. Remus had overheard that advice and smacked the back of Sirius’s head for it.
Harry liked the idea of ‘practicing’ though. Not that he told anyone but Sirius, who didn’t get after him for saying things like that. Instead, Sirius had given Harry a blunt conversation about contraceptives and how wizards need to ‘swish it or flick it.’ He didn't judge Harry for not regarding sex as some sacred thing like his parents did. Sirius had told him that sex and love were two different acts, sometimes they happened together, and sometimes they didn't. His godfather had also cautioned Harry that people frequently confused the two, but that when it was the real thing, Harry would know.
When his father and mother had sat him down to talk bout sex, it involved a lot of colorful euphemisms and cautions to wait until he found someone he loved. As if sensing his thoughts, the whispers started laughing again, their voices weaving together as they berated him on behalf of his wife.
Harry sighed, banging the back of his head against the bark where he was relaxing. “I keep telling you, I don’t have a wife.” He thought of the last girl he’d shagged. A cute blonde Hufflepuff named Chrissy. Nope, he definitely wasn’t marrying her. He quite thought Zinny’s eyes would roll back in her head permanently if he did.
Present
“See what I mean?”
“How did I not know about these trees? Do you think all purebloods have them? No, wait, the Weasleys don’t have one - Bill and Fleur got married on their land, but I thought that was just because it was safer.” Hermione's brow furrowed as she tried to recall if she had ever read anything or heard about magical trees. The war had consumed so much of her time that all her research had focused on the problems they faced and not really to learn about the magical world. There was so much she didn't know.
“Well, from what I understand, it's part of protecting the land if someone should attack. My uh—d—father—didn’t go into it too much with me, for him it was mostly tradition, but Sirius said that it’s similar to portrait magic, except it absorbs a piece of magic from each family member when they get married, and then if we’re attacked here it’s used to defend us. Remember the Hogwarts defenses? Kind of like that. But it’s — well, it wasn’t needed anymore … you know, before the war—so many families don’t do it anymore- or have lands to defend, really. It's kind of an archaic thing.”
“But–” Hermione began to demand more information.
“Hermione. We don’t have time right now.” Harry cut her off impatiently because it was not the time to have a lesson on magical trees.
“Fine, but later you tell me everything.”
“Of course.”
“So, what are we going to do about the wards?”
Harry looked over the land, seeing the manor and beyond the sprawl of the slightly bizarre architecture. He could just see the tree beyond it. The tree was maybe two lengths of a Quidditch field away from them. He’d run that before in practice plenty of times. “I’m going to carry you and we’re going to run.”
“You’re joking?”
“No, the wards are set to alert for non-family members. If I carry you so you don't have physical contact with the land, then cover your magic with mine, I should be able to cloak your presence and keep the wards from alerting anyone in the house.” Like his parents. Harry gestured in the direction of the tree to show Hermione the distance.
“And what if they come out and catch us before we get there?”
Harry squeezed her hand. “You slow them down…” He paused, eyes darting to the still-bright house and thinking of the people within before adding, “Gently.”
“Of course." Hermione squeezed his hand back reassuringly. "Now, let me find something to transfigure for shoes. I don’t want you hurting your feet carrying me.”
Harry gave her a cocky smile, reaching out to tug one of her curls. “Don’t worry, my feet will be fine.” He waited until Hermione nodded hesitantly before turning and crouching slightly so she could climb on his back, her legs wrapped tight and trying not to choke him with her hold. His magic wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Hermione loved it when Harry did that.
“Ready?”
Hermione squeezed him tighter. “Yes.” It was slightly disconcerting how different Harry’s body felt, even though his magic felt the same. He wasn’t as lean, and he seemed to be a bit taller than he had been, even though she knew they were younger now, especially considering the way Malfoy and Luna looked.
Hermione gasped when Harry started running, bursting past the wards in a rush of speed. She ducked her head close to the curve of his neck, trying to make herself and her magical signature smaller. The bright windows felt vaguely like searchlights with how brightly they lit the night.
She had been able to see the tree vaguely at a distance in the dark, but as they approached, she was a bit awed by its immense size, stretching high into the night sky. The questions she had about the trees were still lingering in her mind, despite the urgency of the situation. She couldn’t wait to talk to Harry more about his family tree.
After they were married, of course.
Harry slowed as they reached the tree, holding out one hand to touch the bark. “I brought her.”
“Harry–” Hermione began uneasily, glancing behind them at the manor. Had she heard something?
Hermione Meddlers! The Wife! They’re here!
Harry Now! Chosen one! The three! Now
Here! Potter NOW! Master of Death!
“Oh my god, Harry.” Hermione almost stumbled as he let her slide down his back to find her own two feet. “I can hear it!” In Harry’s memories, he was the only one who heard the tree.
Harry’s head snapped to her. “You can hear it?”
“Yes! Who are they?”
“My ancestors.” Harry stroked his hand down the tree as the bark moved like it was breathing, the whispers urging him to hurry. He turned to Hermione, holding out his hands, switching her hands once she grasped his, so they were crossed.
Leaves started falling from the tree as shouts echoed in the distance, and Hermione flinched, her hands trying to tug away to grip her wand, but Harry shook his head, not letting go and trying to keep her hands still. “They won’t be able to stop us. They’re only witnesses now.”
A single leaf landed perfectly atop their crossed hands and began to glow with a white hue. Green roots sprouted from the leaf as if it were a seed, followed along by streaks of white-colored magic. The roots grew and grew and began to tie their hands together, tighter and tighter until they were bound tight. The ground shifted beneath their feet, and the same white glow streaked out of the tree into the ground, jagged like lightning strikes.
“Harry! What are you —” a man's voice shouted.
A woman cut him off, “James Charlus Potter, you get this ward down right now—”
“I’m trying!”
“Who the bloody hell is she?” A girl’s voice asked.
Hermione wanted to look at the people she really did, but she couldn’t look away from Harry’s eyes. They were glowing, a circle of white that shone around the green of his eyes.
The scattered whispers slowly coalesced until the last words were echoed as one, reverberating through white magic streaking around the tree.
Travelers Harry Husband Chosen one
Hermione Wife Past is Future Heart to Heart Meddlers
Brightest Witch Potter Soul to Soul The three!
Husband
Wife
Future
BONDED FOR ALL TIMES!
“Somebody owes me ten galleons.” A painfully familiar voice said, making Harry’s chest ache a bit. “Not mentioning names, Prongs.”
“You made a bet about our son’s marriage!” An outraged female voice demanded.
The green roots and white magic tightened, and Hermione still couldn’t look away from Harry’s eyes. The roots wrapped around her wrist heated rapidly, almost burning, but just short of painful. Then Harry was kissing her, his magic merging with hers, fully and joyously as the first time they married, in the other timeline.
God, Hermione had missed this feeling even for the short time she had been without it. The intimacy of feeling him with her magic, being able to feel his love for her. The low level of pain that had been in her head even after Harry helped her occlumency disappeared as the tidal wave of memories that threatened to wash away her past vanished. Instead, there was just a gentle mist, far removed, and a bit hazy. Like a vivid dream, she still remembered, but just a dream.
She still had herself, she still had Harry. Thank god, Hermione thought fervently, her tongue sliding along her husband’s as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Harry James Potter, you explain yourself right now.” The words were spoken in a low, feminine tone that meant business, and Harry froze against Hermione, pulling back.
It’s my mum. He mouthed to Hermione’s panicked gaze.
Hermione felt the tremor in his hand and squeezed it, staying close to him for support. The tree was still whispering, but the white-colored magic had faded.
Harry looked at the assembled people, his gaze lingering on each of them. It was unmistakably his parents, older than he had ever seen them. And next to them Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, familiar yet different. Sirius looked healthy in a way he had never been in the other time line. Remus didn't look like he was on the verge of collapse. Their lives had been why they had chosen to go so far back once he, Ron, and Hermione had found the time travel ritual years after the last disastrous battle at Hogwarts, where Riddle had escaped and almost everyone had died.
“Well.” Harry cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, deciding to start with introducing Hermione. “First, I’d like to introduce my wife, Hermione.”
Lily Potter sucked in a sharp breath before appearing to collapse. Harry made a short, abortive movement forward as his mother fainted. But James Potter was quick as ever, catching his wife before she hit the ground.
“Oh, this is not going well,” Hermione whispered next to him, and Harry saw his father, Remus, and Sirius’s eyes dart to her. Harry opened his mouth to remind Hermione they had sharper hearing due to their animagus forms, but he was a bit too late. “We definitely aren’t in our twenties anymore. What’s the date?”
“July 31st, 1997.” James Potter responded, his head cocked. “What do you mean, you’re not in your twenties?”
But Hermione was on a roll, and as Harry turned to cover her mouth, she blurted out in a high-pitched scream. “Oh, my god! I’m seventeen and—and head girl!”
“Congratulations.” Remus Lupin said with a friendly smile at the girl, convinced this would be sorted out somehow. Despite Sirius not leaving his side all night Remus still thought this might be some stupid prank he had cooked up with Harry to get one over on James. It wasn't necessarily Sirius' style but there had to be some plausible explanation for Harry running out of his house in the middle of the night only to return and bond himself to a girl none of them had met.
Hermione had been more focused on the differences between her memories, this timeline memories, and her connection to Harry. However, at the sound of her old Professor's voice, her head jerked up and she focused on the people in front of her and Harry. Looking at Remus Lupin she remembered the last time she had saw him, laying on the grounds of Hogwarts, his arm outflung towards his dead wife. Then there was Sirius, also dead. James and Lily Potter older than the few cherished pictures Harry had of them. She was staring at dead people, Hermione thought, right before she fainted. As close as she had been to Harry, he caught her easily, shifting her so he was carrying her bridal style, mimicking his father just a few yards away.
“Nice going, Moony,” Sirius said before making a soft oompf as Remus elbowed him.
“I think we should go inside and sort this out,” James encouraged cautiously, still holding his wife, his gaze fixed on the uneasy set of his son’s shoulders.
Harry shifted Hermione in his arms. Theoretically, he trusted every single person in front of him, but the anxiety of everything still wound through him, tightening his muscles at his father's suggestion. Taking an unconscious Hermione into the house seemed strangely risky, and Harry wanted to let Hermione wake up on her own. Her mind had taken more of a battering than his own.
“Harry?” James Potter could practically see the wheels turning his son's mind as he tried to decide whether or not to come inside or leave. His hands gripped Lily a little tighter as he waited for his son to make up his mind. James didn't want Harry where he couldn't make sure he was safe, considering how bizarre his son was acting.
Harry focused on his father and saw the concern and love as he watched him closely. He had no doubt James and the others would try to stop him from leaving. Perhaps they would succeed in stopping him, considering their numbers and the fact that Hermione was unconscious. His wand slipped into his hand with a bit of wordless levitation.
Maybe they wouldn’t. Harry's eyes glittered as he tried to consider the best course of action for him and Hermione.
But where would he go? His memories tried to give Harry options on where he could take Hermione to recover, but none were as secure as the land he stood on now.
“Harry,” Sirius said quietly, seeing the white of his godson's knuckles as he clenched his wand. He waited until Harry met his eyes. “Let’s go inside and figure this all out.”
Harry stared at Sirius for a minute, remembering the last glimpse he had of him in the other timeline. The shocked expression as Sirius fell through the veil. He missed Sirius, and even though this wasn’t his Sirius, it still was in a way, at least according to his other memories. Slowly, Harry nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go inside.”
“You heard the birthday boy! Inside!” Sirius said, trusting his knowledge of Harry, that told him his godson was indeed planning to come into the house. Sirius grabbed Zinny and Neville, pulling them away while Remus trailed behind them. James, though, didn’t move with Lily still in his arms, waiting for Harry to start walking.
Harry looked back for a second to the tree, whispering, “Thank you.” The tree responded by cheering him on, naming all the names Harry had been called throughout his life. Then Harry turned away, walking resolutely towards his home, side by side with his father, both of them carrying the women they loved.
Notes:
Look. It's like this story is playing in my head like a movie and I can't make it stop yet, I'm getting there though. Writing a story out is like an exorcism, I never know when I'm going to hit the point where the movie stops playing and then I have to come back and make myself write the end b/c hey I've already seen it a billion times. Smh. I am editing Matched and Remedy though for tomorrow!
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Chapter 4: We Happen
Summary:
Explaining a lightning-fast wedding does not go well.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry slowly followed his father into the house, trying to get his thoughts in order for the interrogation he knew was coming. How was he supposed to explain anything? Should he even explain anything? How would he even word it?
I woke up after I broke all the laws regarding time travel and fixed my fucked up timeline— but I’m still the son you know sort of? I don’t know how I feel about this Haz thing though.
Nope. Ridiculous. He didn't even know if he was their Harry anyway. He was Harry, but he definitely wasn't the boy from the other timelines' memories.
I know it seems like I randomly married a girl no one knows but I actually married Hermione in 1976 and Ron was our best man. We’ve been married for almost three years.
Even more mental. Perhaps it would be best to give as little information as possible and talk with Hermione first. Maybe she’d have a better strategy for what to say, he’d always been shit with explanations. His father looked back several times to make sure Harry was still following. Harry felt guilty about the worry in his father’s eyes.
They walked down the wide hall of Potter’s Peak into one of the larger drawing rooms where everyone else had settled in already. Zinnia and Neville were standing together near the fireplace watching Harry carefully. Remus and Sirius were close together, Remus sitting in an armchair while Sirius leaned against the back, one of his hands casually resting on Remus’ shoulder.
The touch caught Harry’s attention and memories started flickering through his mind speedily. In his timeline, there had been an emotionally intense embrace when Sirius and Remus had encountered each other for the first time after Sirius’ incarceration in Azkaban during Harry’s third year. But despite searching his memories for any other clues there might have been something romantic between Sirius and Remus, Harry couldn’t recall anything. On the other hand with his new life, Sirius and Remus had been together as long as he could recall.
Teal hair flashed in his mind and Harry froze as he realized what that meant. Remus had never been with Tonks. Teddy had never been born. Oh fuck. His hands tightened on Hermione.
“Are you alright, Harry?” Remus asked, gold flickering in his eyes, and Harry realized he had been staring at him the entire time.
“Sorry.” The apology slipped out despite himself, and both Sirius and Remus gave him confused looks. God, how was he going to tell Hermione about Teddy? It wasn’t something they’d really planned for; in fact, all their planning had ended with Voldemort’s death.
Ministry records and Hermione’s own research indicated that once a paradox was created, magic would react to fix the timeline by erasing the anomalies. In other words, they should have disappeared into nothing once they changed the timeline irrevocably by killing Voldemort in 1982. He, Hermione, and Ron had accepted their death in exchange for everyone to have a better life.
Except apparently Teddy Lupin, who now never existed.
Fuck.
Fuck!
Harry’s jaw tightened as he tried to rein in the tide of grief. Even asleep, he felt his wife’s response to his turbulent emotions as she twitched in his arms, a wrinkle appearing on her brow. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing the emotion far away, behind the wall with everything else he couldn’t deal with at the moment.
What else were they going to find out?
“Harry,” James called his son softly. He didn’t know what was going on with his son, but he was going to find out — and fix it. “Come sit down, Harry.” He indicated the space next to him on the large sofa.
Taking another deep breath to center himself, Harry nodded but moved instead towards another large armchair, sitting down with Hermione in his lap.
James looked a little disconcerted after Harry didn’t sit next to him, but after only a moment's pause, he shifted Lily, who had been on his lap, onto the sofa next to him. The gentle motion was enough to rouse Lily, her green eyes opening wide as she bolted upright. Lily spotted her son holding the girl he had introduced as Hermione Potter in his lap. “Harry James Potter, what have you done?”
“I think he got married, Lils,” Sirius said, watching Harry from where he leaned against the back of the chair Remus was sitting in. There was something off about Harry that Sirius couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Zinnia and Neville were still in their pajamas that Harry recalled from waking earlier. Neville still seemed confused while Zinnia was staring at Hermione. Harry didn’t like the look that Zinnia was giving Hermione. He’d have to talk to Zinnia privately before too long.
“I did,” Harry confirmed to his mother, still looking toward Zinnia, as his fingers stroked subtly against Hermione’s skin, grounding himself with the feel of her. It was easier for him to focus on Zinny rather than the other people in the room, as nothing connected him to her except the other timeline’s childhood memories. However, for everyone else in the room, the memories of their deaths crashed against the alternate memories, trying to crack him from the inside out. The walls he built to keep the emotions back trembled in response to the intensity.
Trying to distract himself from those thoughts, Harry dropped his gaze to Hermione who was frowning in her sleep. He hadn’t asked her where she had woken or why she had been crying when he found her on the outskirts of the Burrow wards. Harry’s shoulders straightened as he mentally braced himself. He had her, though, and he even had Ron, even though he may not remember. Whatever the repercussions of their meddling in time resulted in, they would have to deal with it together.
Harry wished Hermione were awake, but even looking at her helped him feel more settled. The marrying tree’s magic had fixed their fading marriage bond, leaving proof on their skin in the form of a crisscross pattern of runes that looped around both their left wrists. Harry recognized only some of the runes the tree had left, and Harry knew it was another thing he and Hermione would have to look into together.
“Is she okay?” James Potter asked when it was obvious Harry wasn’t going to elaborate. The silence stretched out as his son stared down at the girl in his lap. Hermione, Harry had called her.
Harry looked up, meeting his father’s gaze briefly before his eyes dropped back down to Hermione again. “She’s fine. She just needs some rest. It’s been…” Harry’s throat tightened as he remembered the way her skin had darkened and reached for her lax hand, playing with her fingers, soothing himself with how normal she felt. “It’s been a long night.”
A slightly hysterical laugh burst from his mother before Lily caught herself, her hand clutching her husband’s thigh. “I don’t even know what to say, Harry. I don’t — you’ve never mentioned this girl — you threaten your sister—and took off with Ron—” Lily paused, her eyes widening. “Where is Ron?”
God, this felt so fucking awkward. Harry wasn’t sure what he had expected after defeating Voldemort, but this wasn’t it. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, trying to think of some explanation other than the truth. He settled on a slight misdirection, avoiding the major questions. “Ron’s at the Burrow with his family. Uh, I’ll probably talk to him soon.”
“And the rest?” Zinnia demanded, quietly taking a step forward. “Why did you marry some stranger? Why did you act like you didn’t even know me?”
“I was confused. I’m sorry, Zinny.” Harry looked at her, feeling true regret clutch at his chest. “Of course, I know you. How could I forget someone as annoying as you?”
Zinnia didn’t react to his humor. Her face remained solemn, concern and anger lurking in the green eyes they both shared with their mother. “And you’re still ignoring the important questions.” She looked over at their parents. “I think we should have him tested for amortentia and other behavior modification magic. She probably did something to him.”
Harry tried not to let the insinuation make him angry; he knew Zinnia's conclusion was reasonable. But they had just been fighting for their lives. He hadn’t been able to intervene when Greyback drove a scared Hermione toward a corner. If Ron hadn’t managed to get off that shot, if they hadn’t just woken up to this time, that would have been the end of her. So Harry reacted a little more heatedly than he probably should have considering how the situation looked to his family.
Harry’s muscles tensed, and his jaw tightened as he looked at his sister, anger flashing in his eyes. “Don’t talk about my wife that way, Zinnia.”
Zinnia stalked forward, just as angry, her green eyes practically glowing. Lily jumped up, grabbing her daughter’s elbow to prevent her from starting a row with her brother. “Zinny—”
“No! If I came home suddenly married to some stranger you’d never met — you’d find out why—you’d protect me!” Her eyes watered as she continued to meet Harry’s angry gaze. “And I’m going to protect you too!”
James Potter looked conflicted as he stared at his worried wife and panicked daughter. Looking back at the stubborn expression on his son’s face, the way he held the girl's hand in his. It reminded James of himself and how he behaved with Lily. James glanced over at Sirius and Remus. Both of them met his eyes with the same acknowledgment.
Sirius gave a faint shrug, then a nod. I see the similarities too, and I’m still worried.
James nodded back, then took a deep breath before speaking quietly and authoritatively as the head of their family. “Let’s all calm down.”
Lily looked at her husband, anger settling deep that anyone would dare try to manipulate her son. “Fine.” Knowing better than to let go of her daughter, she pulled Zinnia with her, sitting her between herself and James.
“Harry, you understand that we are all just concerned, right?” James asked.
“I understand. And I’m sorry for the way this is all happening.” Harry said truthfully. If there hadn’t been the issue of their memories fading, they could have perhaps done this differently. Date, then get engaged, then marry without anyone the wiser about what was really happening. But that just hadn’t been possible. “But regardless, I won’t put up with Hermione being treated poorly.” He looked at his sister. “By anyone.”
“Are you willing to undergo the testing your sister asked for?” Sirius asked, drawing Harry’s attention.
“Of course. You won’t find anything.” Harry didn't mind doing what he could to alleviate their concerns.
Sirius cocked his head, grey eyes watchful. “Then you won’t mind being parted from her while we conduct the testing? A full month is required to make sure one is free of magical interference, isn’t that right, Lily?”
“Yes.” Lily nodded as she answered.
Harry’s arms tightened again on Hermione. That was not something he was willing to do. “Not happening.”
“What do her parents think about this?” Remus asked before anyone else could start arguing.
Harry opened his mouth before closing it. Fuck. Another thing to consider. Hermione should still have her parents in this timeline. They would have to have this whole conversation again, probably with her parents, thinking he was the villain who pressured their daughter into marriage.
Hermione twitched in his arms, her lashes fluttering as her eyes finally opened. She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment before her eyes filled with tears, and she threw her arms around his neck.
Harry cast a quick muffliato, ignoring the gazes of everyone else in the room while he concentrated on Hermione for a moment.
Her shoulders shook as a nearly soundless sob escaped. “Shh, shhh, it’s okay,” Harry whispered as he slowly rocked her in his arms.
“I’m scared.” She confessed, her fingers clutching his shirt.
“Me too.” He admitted to her softly. “But we have each other, so it’s going to be okay, love. We won. We won . And it’s thanks to your research.”
“Pfft.” Hermione pushed her face into the crook of his neck, her words muffled. “You’re the one who killed that pretentious bastard.”
“So everything else should be easier, then, right?” Harry asked as he faced the people staring at them both.
Hermione finally turned, looking at the rest of the room and seeing the people who filled it. She recognized everyone except a girl who looked a lot like Harry and was staring at her angrily. “Is that—?”
“Mhmm. My little sister. Zinnia Dorea Potter. Apparently—” His voice caught, and he cleared it. “Either it was us changing things or my mother had been pregnant when she died in our timeline.”
“They don’t look happy,” Hermione observed seeing a hard look in both Zinnia and Lily Potter's eyes.
“Well. They’ll have to get over it.” Harry said firmly, giving Hermione a reassuring squeeze before she pulled back. “Ready? I’m going to dismiss the muffliato.”
“Ready.” Hermione straightened her shoulders.
“I know you.” Neville finally spoke from near the fireplace, where he had been watching the spectacle. “You’re in Ravenclaw. You’re first in our year.”
“Yes.” Hermione nodded, avoiding the angry green gazes of Lily and Zinnia Potter. Her gaze lingered on Sirius’ hand lying on Professor Lupin’s shoulder. There was something intimate about the gesture.
“Is something bothering you, Miss Granger?” Sirius asked silkily, noting her glance.
“Potter.” Harry corrected quickly, squeezing Hermione’s hand and meeting her gaze. That was something they needed to discuss in private. Hermione was more unsettled here, and they needed time alone. Hermione read the message in his gaze as he knew she would and gave him an imperceptible nod.
“No,” Hermione answered Sirius, not elaborating.
With gentle pressure on her elbow, Harry helped Hermione stand before getting to his feet behind her. “We’re both tired. We can discuss things further in the morning after resting a bit.”
“She’s not staying in my house.” Lily snapped, affronted at the idea of giving shelter to a girl who was taking advantage of her son.
“Lily—” James started, but Harry cut him off.
“Fine, then we’re leaving.”
“No!” Zinnia jumped up, holding out her hands. “No leaving. Mum—”
“Everyone, calm down,” James said sharply, looking at his family, then focusing on Harry. “Work with me, Haz. I know you understand why your mum and sister are upset.”
“Perhaps just a few assurances from both, short-term promises will help,” Remus suggested.
Hermione looked at Professor Lupin, still caught by the differences. But then, was he still Professor Lupin? “Like what?”
“A promise to not consummate the marriage nor practice any magic—”
“No.” Both Harry and Hermione answered together. They glanced at each other before Harry continued speaking. “We can promise not to consummate the marriage tonight .” He glanced at Hermione with a bit of humor in his gaze. How weird to promise that when they had consummated their marriage years ago. “But not refraining from magic.”
Remus leaned forward. “What about offensive magic? You do acknowledge you are safe here, aren't you?”
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other again. Harry did feel comfortable here, despite their suspicion, but he didn’t want to take away from Hermione feeling safe. There was unshakable trust in her gaze.
If you think it’s okay, then I’ll do it.
Harry glanced quickly back at his mother and sister before looking back at Hermione. You’re safe, they’re just angry and convinced you’ve bewitched me or some nonsense.
Hermione smiled slightly at Harry, nodding.
“Fine. We will promise to refrain from offensive magic for tonight .” Harry responded.
“Swear.” James prompted, as the wards on the property waited to enforce their agreement.
“I swear we will not consummate the marriage tonight nor use offensive magic.” Harry felt the wards of the property grab at him briefly. He looked over to Hermione, who repeated the same vow.
Lily Potter looked not at all satisfied with the compromise, but James nodded. “Let me walk you to your room then.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, Dad.” Harry shook his head.
“I insist.” James stood gesturing for the two to precede him, and they left everyone else in the parlour. Loud shouting started as soon as the door closed, and James winced, before gesturing them on.
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Harry felt completely wiped out. From the way Hermione was leaning against him, he thought she felt the same way.
“How long have you two known each other?” James inquired as they climbed the stairs.
“A while,” Hermione answered before Harry.
“It’s so strange Haz hasn’t mentioned you before, Hermione.”
Hermione looked at Harry mouthing the word. Haz?
I know. Harry responded with a wry smile.
“It’s complicated,” Harry answered when Hermione looked flustered by the question.
When they arrived back at the door to Harry’s room, James paused, looking at his son. “You know everything I do is so that you’ll have a happy, long life, right, son?”
James meant the question to be reassuring, to let Harry know they would love him and support him regardless, but Harry froze, his expression wooden for a moment as if the question hurt him. He reached out, laying a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “I love you, Harry. No matter what, okay?”
“Yeah. I–I love you too.” Harry said, trying to keep his voice even, before he pulled Hermione into his room and shut the door in his father’s concerned face.
This time, it was he reaching out to Hermione for comfort, his eyes stinging. Despite the fact that James Potter was alive just on the other side of the doorway, grief welled up in his chest. And Harry sucked in a rough breath as Hermione held him tightly.
After a long minute, they both stumbled to the bed, Hermione’s temporary transfigurations fading and their clothes reverting to pajamas. Honestly, if any of them downstairs knew how long it had been since they got a decent night’s sleep they wouldn’t have worried about them having enough energy to shag.
Still, as they lay there, facing each other, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, sleep was elusive, even as their eyes burned and their muscles ached with weariness. Both of them worried about what might happen after they fell asleep.
What would they wake up to? What if they woke up without their memories despite everything?
“We never happened here.” Hermione’s whisper was a bare thread of sound. “We never even met.”
“We happen.” Harry thought of his memories, the stray thought of finding out who the head girl might be for seventh year, and Hermione’s exclamation before she fainted. “We would have met, no matter what, it would have still been us.”
Notes:
So I don't want to jinx myself, b/c heaven knows I've scrapped so many plots for the third year time loop ending for Intertwined... but I think.... I really think I'm close! Squee!
Needing an update to 2024: Intertwined,
Remedy, Matched,Red ThreadandTime Meddlers.༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
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Chapter 5: Chrissy Bell
Summary:
Mixing memories and timelines.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the middle of dinner, fireworks began exploding above some students' heads, causing a commotion in the Great Hall as everyone tried to figure out what was happening. The loud laughter coming from the Gryffindor table was as good as a confession to sixteen-year-old Hermione. Of those laughing, the seventh-year Weasley twins were the loudest. Huddled close to them, also laughing, were their co-conspirators in training, another Weasley, Longbottom, and the house prefect Potter.
Hermione shook her head, glad there were no fireworks around her head. Professor McGonagall had a stern face as she stormed from the administration table to where the twins sat with their cohorts. Her lecture wasn’t audible over the din from the fireworks and the exclaiming students, although the twins' shrugs and body language seemed to indicate they were denying everything. Not that it mattered since Hermione knew they had more detentions left than school days.
Hermione leaned towards Luna. “Let’s go sit with Theo and Draco. It's further away from whatever prank they’re pulling now.”
Luna was reading the Quibbler, her father’s paper, turning the crossword puzzle at different angles as if that might help her figure out the word. Luna looked up at Hermione with a slight smile. “I don’t think that’s going to help.”
“Distance always helps when it comes to Gryffindors,” Hermione said, picking up her books and pulling her book bag over her shoulder.
Luna shrugged, standing with her paper to follow Hermione toward the Slytherin table at the opposite end of the Great Hall. Theo immediately shoved Draco over to make room for Hermione when he saw her approaching. Hermione smiled at him, but as soon as they were within a foot of each other, little fireworks started going off on their heads.
“Bloody hell,” Hermione muttered, pulling out her wand and casting finite incantatem unsuccessfully.
Luna was tilting her head back, watching the fireworks above her head. “Aren’t they pretty? I think this is one of their better efforts.”
“I agree.” Theo smiled softly and caught Hermione’s waving hand while Draco turned slightly pink.
Hermione huffed and let Theo pull her down to sit by him while Luna remained standing, twirling slightly as she kept her face upward. Hermione’s eyes darted to the Gryffindor table, spotting the fifth-year black-haired prefect. All around him, witches were giggling with fireworks going off atop their heads while he remained with none. “I see their prefect left himself out of the prank.”
“No, pretty sure it was cast on everyone as they passed through the doors,” Luna advised dreamily, still staring upward.
“Thanks for letting us know, Luna,” Malfoy muttered, ignoring the fireworks above his own head.
“But why…” Hermione trailed off as she watched the seemingly random bursts of fireworks as students moved around. Neither of the twins had fireworks above their heads either until one of the witches who played Quidditch came close, and then one twin had fireworks along with the witch. “Oh,” Hermione said as the realization dawned. The fireworks weren't randomly going off. Her eyes darted to Draco’s pink face, then over to Theo’s soft gaze. The fireworks started when you were close to someone you fancied.
Theo leaned closer to her, his blue eyes darkening. “Does it bother you?”
Theo's proximity made her a little breathless, and Hermione couldn’t keep the intensity of his gaze, turning to look back towards the far end of the room again. “No, but they’re exposing people’s feelings without their permission; it’s an invasion of privacy.” Hermione tried to say the words stridently, but they came out hushed, meant only for Theo’s ears.
Theo leaned even closer, and when he spoke, his lips were brushing her ear. “I hardly notice the difference, being near you is always like fireworks underneath my skin.”
Hermione shivered at the sensation, her gaze still on the far table. The Gryffindor prefect was laughing, the surrounding girls all smiling even though fireworks were on top of their heads, but not on him. It was no surprise that a bully like Potter wouldn’t like anyone.
Harry woke up slowly, not panicking because his wife’s soft body was pressed against his own, and he could feel the subtle movements of her chest rising and falling. The events of the night before filtered slowly through his mind. The final fight with Voldemort. Grief at seeing blood pool under Ron, where he had fallen when they breached the ballroom. The sheer terror of not being able to help Hermione as she was driven backward by Greyback. Then only moments later not being quick enough to catch Hermione before she touched the edge of that black swirling cloud. Harry's hands tightened on Hermione's waist briefly before he reached for her hand, rechecking her fingers and skin. The skin of her hand was soft and sun-kissed.
Something still felt off to Harry, his muscles relaxed but braced as if expecting catastrophe at any moment. Hermione's research and magical history had been fairly firm that when time was changed, people who no longer belonged disappeared. Hermione had also said there would have been no way to go forward in time. If, for some reason, both Hermione and history were to be proven wrong, they knew they would have to live out their lives as misplaced people. But now... they were here. In 1997. Again. It was wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.
Despite Harry's touching her and playing with her hands, Hermione remained deeply asleep, her face turned away, and her curls moving slightly in the air current of the room. Harry leaned forward, brushing his lips against the curve of her cheek.
The house's magic fed him information about the property. His parents were awake and downstairs. Zinnia was outside his room. Then there were three house elves and three other in the wards. It was a strange designation. Harry remained still in bed, his eyes on Hermione, while he tried to parse the information the wards gave him with the memories of the other Harry.
He had never felt so connected to a place as he felt to Potter’s Peak. The closest Harry had felt to a place before had been Hogwarts, but that had been an emotional connection. What he felt with Potter’s Peak was definitely emotional, but it was also magical. The wards resonated in his skin as if they were an extension of his own magic. Harry wasn’t going to try, but he had a strong suspicion if he wanted to eject the three other from the property he could. No one was coming into his house unless he allowed it without a significant battle.
A significant battle. The thought stayed, echoing through his head, and he recalled the force that Voldemort had taken to breach Hogwarts wards. He knew how his parents had died. How had his grandparents died? That could perhaps have been why his parents had gone into hiding at Godric's Hollow. There was so much he didn’t know, and now there was absolutely no one he could ask.
Because it had never happened.
It was a conscious effort to put the thoughts of what he would never know out of his head. It didn’t matter; he assured himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to focus back on Hermione. Harry leaned forward to kiss her with more intent, his hands sliding around her waist and pulling up her long nightgown.
“Haz! I know you’re awake! Get out here! Don’t consummate your marriage with your abuser before we fix you!” Zinnia’s voice sounded as she pounded on his locked door.
Hermione’s eyes flew open to meet his, and she frowned in confusion. “Abuser?”
“Zinnia! Shut up and GO AWAY!” Harry turned to roar at the door that was shaking under his sister’s fists. All he wanted was a few minutes of peace to make out with his damn wife!
“You can’t shag this one! Look, I’ll get Chrissy! I won’t even make fun of every single stupid thing she says!”
An image of a curly-haired blonde Hufflepuff popped into Harry’s mind. Dismissing the image, he opened his mouth to shout at Zinnia to go away, but Hermione was quicker, jumping up from the bed to stomp over to the door to open it.
“Harry would never sleep with that—” Hermione cut off, suddenly frozen, staring blindly ahead.
Zinnia frowned when Hermione stayed still for too long, bringing up her hand and waving it slowly in front of Hermione’s peculiarly blank face. “Maybe we should have you tested, too.”
“Stop it.” Harry shook off the memories of a girl he had never met and walked over quickly to knock his sister’s hand away before turning to Hermione. “Hey? You okay?”
Hermione turned slowly toward him, a frown forming on her face. “Chrissy Bell has slept with most of the quidditch players in Hogwarts. Even Draco didn’t sleep with her.”
“That sounded extremely judgmental for someone who never talked to my brother before marrying him last night,” Zinnia said sharply to Hermione. “It’s her own business who she decides to sleep with.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Harry snapped at Zinnia, remembering all the times she had made fun of Chrissy before looking at Hermione as he processed the rest of her sentence. Why had she said Malfoy’s name like that? “What do you mean, Draco ?”
Zinnia pushed her palms into her eyes, muttering to herself. “Merlin. I’m not even in your year, and I recognize her — she’s always with Draco and Theo. Haven’t you noticed her when you’re bullying them?”
“I’ve never bullied—”
“You slept with Chrissy Bell!” Hermione cut him off in a shrill tone, stepping back and slamming the door in Zinnia’s face.
“What the bloody fuck?” Zinnia stared at the closed door and then stepped closer to try to hear the low, angry argument going on inside the room.
“How could you sleep with someone so—so—witless!”
“I don’t even know why we’re having this argument when you know I didn’t! And if we’re going to discuss pointless fucking things, what about Draco –”
“Don’t curse at me!”
“Hermione—” Harry paused, then a buzzing noise muffled their conversation. If Zinnia dismissed it, her brother would probably just cast it again or move out of hearing range. Regardless, she wouldn’t be hearing any more of their bizarre argument.
Zinnia turned with a frown on her face, about to walk downstairs to discuss everything in detail again with her mum, when she smacked into her father. “Dad!”
“Messing with your brother already?” James Potter asked lightly, his eyes going to the closed door before going back to his daughter.
Zinnia scowled, crossing her arms. “I was making sure it’s as easy as possible to break the bond when we fix them. If they consummate the marriage, it’s going to hurt Harry more.”
James raised his eyebrows at her statement, and Zinnia sighed, her shoulders slumping before she confessed. “I stayed up all night researching marriage bonds, love potions, and counter curses.”
Her father pulled her close, giving her a reassuring squeeze before pulling back and meeting her eyes. “Don’t worry, short stuff. I’m going to take care of it, okay?”
Zinnia stared at her father’s warm hazel gaze and blinked rapidly to prevent herself from crying. She felt like her father didn’t understand — how could he? He hadn’t been there to see the gleam of Harry’s eyes when he had threatened to cut pieces of Zinnia off. Even remembering the look on his face made her stomach twist. She had never, ever seen her brother look like that.
Not the least of which was that she hadn’t told her parents Harry cast an unforgivable. Zinnia had also persuaded Neville not to tell her parents until they got to the bottom of whatever was happening to Harry.
There was something seriously wrong with Harry, and to Zinnia, only her mother seemed to be at the appropriate level of panic required by the situation. Zinnia had faith in her father, but she wasn’t going to sit by passively as time passed and the bond her brother made with a stranger settled into his magic, changing him irrevocably.
James had a harder time keeping the reassuring expression on his face when he saw his usually calm and collected daughter fighting tears. He pulled Zinnia close again, slightly rocking her in his arms as he tried to calm her down. It was a testament to Zinnia's upset that she let him; her face pressed against his chest, just as she used to when she was a little kid.
But the moment was too short, and she pulled away, the softer emotions pushed down, while determination shone in her green eyes. “I’m going to talk to Mum,” Zinnia muttered, looking away from him and quickly retreating with her head down.
James watched Zinnia go until she disappeared at the turn of the hallway before turning back towards his son’s door. He could hear the buzzing noise that signaled his son had cast a muffliato. With a slash of his wand, James dismissed the spell and was about to knock when Harry yanked the door open aggressively.
“Zinnia—” Harry cut off when he saw his father on the other side of the door. Hermione came up behind him, pressing closely against his back as if bracing him.
James' eyes darted between Harry and Hermione, noting the red on both their faces and the faint wetness of their lips. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered, an emotion that James couldn’t quite identify in his eyes. James wasn’t satisfied with his son’s short answer and tried to push him to share a bit more.
“Are you sure? Your sister is quite worried.”
“Look, I understand people are worried. I’ll submit to whatever testing is necessary to reassure everyone about my decision to marry. However, I refuse to be separated from my wife or be dictated to about my marital relations.”
James stared at Harry, quite forgetting the girl standing just behind him momentarily. He had never heard that cold tone of voice from his son.
People are worried.
What? His family was worried. His mother was worried! That unfamiliar gleam in his son’s eyes… The tone of voice. There was a threat there, and James felt it deeply in the magic that connected him to his son. It was almost like looking at a stranger, and he couldn’t help but recall Zinnia’s fears.
James controlled the impulse to drag both hands through his hair with difficulty, not wanting to show how stressed he was by the situation. Then when he was further disconcerted by the impulse to hide his stress and not show weakness in front of his own son. Taking in a low, controlled breath, James decided not to touch Harry’s statement and instead steered the conversation towards Hermione. “And what about Hermione’s parents? Are they aware of the marriage?”
Hermione wasn’t as skilled as his son (apparently) was at hiding her emotions because she stiffened immediately. Harry’s hand reached behind him, grasping Hermione’s hip reassuringly, but he kept his gaze on James.
“We’re going to visit them today,” Harry answered for both of them, while Hermione’s lips thinned.
“I can come with you—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Do you know them? I can’t imagine them being happy if the marriage is as unexpected to them as it was to us.”
Hermione chewed her lip, her gaze darting between Harry and his father. She knew that expression on Harry’s face. He was busily bottling all his emotions away so he could handle what was happening to him. From the look on James Potter’s face, though, he wasn’t as familiar with this behavior from Harry.
It was Harry always bottling up and pushing away his emotions that had made his temper so explosive when they were younger. It would all just build up without Harry expressing it until finally he was raging. He’d gotten a lot better, though, at handling his emotions, but a situation such as this would set anyone back.
Hermione couldn’t imagine her parents saying anything hurtful, but she also realized she didn’t know what her parents might be like in this changed time period. Even in her own timeline, telling her parents she had gotten married at seventeen would not have gone well. “Perhaps I should go by myself, Harry—to explain things, at least at first.”
The glance Harry darted to her told Hermione clearly that he wasn’t on board with that plan. His magic prickled along her skin as if it were trying to wrap her in a cocoon. Hermione opened her mouth to reassure Harry, but stopped at the look in his eyes. He didn’t want to have this discussion in front of his father.
“Before anyone goes anywhere, you both need to come down and eat breakfast.” James finally said firmly, breaking in on the wordless conversation Harry and Hermione were having. It was another thing he filed away to talk about with Lily, Sirius, and Remus. That type of communication, glancing and someone and reading them, knowing what they wanted—took time to build. It took knowing someone on a deeper level than Harry and Hermione should know each other.
James’ son had been interested in a lot of girls, and Harry’s behavior toward them resembled Sirius's much more than his own. Harry had never mentioned a Hermione Granger to any of them.
“That sounds nice,” Hermione responded, her hand dropping to curl around his son's. “We’ll just get dressed and be down shortly, then.”
When neither James nor Harry seemed to want to break away, Hermione finally tugged Harry back, giving James Potter a polite smile before slowly closing the door on him. This time her wand came out, and she cast a muffliato and paused, waiting to see if Harry’s father would try to dismiss the charm. When it stayed, she let out a small sigh before turning back to her husband.
Harry’s face was tense, his jawline tight as he stared back at her. Hermione stepped close, pressing her body against his, and slid her arms around his waist. Harry resisted softening, his hands coming to grasp her upper arms. “We’re not splitting up. Where you go, I go.”
Hermione sighed, rubbing her face against his chest. It was still a little disconcerting how different his body was in this timeline. Thank god his magic still felt the same, or she thought she might go a bit crazy.
And Hermione knew without Harry having to say anything that it was the thought of them losing their memories that still worried him. It had just been so strange to hear that name.
Chrissy Bell.
Had she even existed in the other timeline? Hermione’s social circle had been so small. She’d barely known any Hufflepuffs aside from the few she’d gotten to know through the Triwizard because of Cedric.
Hermione could picture the girl so clearly. The long, straight, golden blonde hair and voluptuous figure. The stupid, vapid expression Chrissy wore and the notorious list of Quidditch players the girl carried around, crossing off names as she slept with them.
Bitch.
Hermione pressed her face against Harry harder, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to push away those thoughts. Her Harry hadn’t slept with Chrissy Bell. But how could any version of him sleep with her?
“Hermione. Look at me.”
Hermione breathed in deeply, finding the familiar scent of him. It was the same scent that her Armortentia potion had been far back in their sixth year. Then she pulled back to look into Harry’s worried eyes.
“We stay together.” He repeated.
“We stay together.” She agreed.
Notes:
What can I say I love sticking jealousy in there. ❤️ Ah sooo yummy and angsty. FYI for ya'll who can't handle flashbacks of HHR with other people this may not be the fic for you. There will be no explicit content of HHR and anyone else but it will definitely be heavily hinted at. Remember the tagging. It's there for a reason.
Needing an update to 2024: Intertwined,
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Chapter 6: Theo Nott is a Pathetic Loser
Summary:
Flipping the script on the Hogwarts Express.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Other Life
Eleven-year-old Harry didn’t think he’d ever been so anxious to say goodbye to his parents as he was standing on platform nine and three-quarters.
“Yes, I love you. Yes, I’ll write. Yes, I’ll behave myself!” He repeated, trying to tug away from his mother’s grip.
“One more hug!” Lily Potter said, pulling her struggling child back into her arms. “I’m going to miss you so much!”
“Dad! Help me!” Harry said, pretending to gasp for air and flail about.
“Happy to!” James responded to his son enthusiastically before wrapping his arms around them both with one hand shooting out to grab at his daughter's robe so he could squish Zinnia into the hug too. James was quite happy with himself that all his family still fit within his arms.
“Dad! LET GO!” both his children yelled in unison.
“I always love how you bring the kids together, hun,” Lily said breathlessly to her husband squished in the hug with her kids.
“The train is going to LEAVE ME!” Harry said desperately as a whistle sounded.
“Oh fine, then,” James said with a laugh, releasing his squished family. Zinnia immediately stepped five paces away, trying to pretend she didn’t know them while Lily tried to catch her breath.
Harry gave his family a happy grin. “Okay really. I got to go! Love you all! Bye!” He ran off, darting into the Hogwarts Express to start looking for Neville and Ron. Hopefully, they got a compartment already.
Harry found them wandering the passageway, peering into compartments. Ron had a long suffering look on his face while Neville looked like he was trying not to cry. “What happened?”
“I lost Trevor,” Neville said morosely.
Harry’s eyes widened. Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, had given him his first familiar as a present for his first year at Hogwarts. The familiar was a toad named Trevor. If she found out he lost the toad, she was going to be insufferable on a level only Augusta Longbottom could reach.
“Don’t worry mate, we’ll find him,” Harry reassured Neville giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he turned to Ron. “You keep going down this way and I'll run to the end to work my way back up so we find him faster.”
Ron rolled his eyes but nodded, slamming open a compartment as Harry jogged away. “Oi! Any of you seen my mate’s toad hopping about?”
“His name is Trevor.” Neville offered in a wavering voice.
Harry arrived at the last compartment and slid it open to reveal several boys his age. “Hi. Have any of you seen a toad?”
“No, we haven’t.” A familiar-looking boy with a bony face and white blonde hair answered with a sneer.
The response seemed overly aggressive, and no one else bothered to respond. Harry raised his eyebrows at the boy, feeling annoyed by the response. “Can the others answer for themselves, or are they mute?”
The blonde boy glanced at his friend next to him, who was staring blankly at Harry. “They can, but no one here wants to talk to someone like you.”
The posh disdain in the tone finally rattled loose a memory for Harry. He had seen this boy before in his godfather’s house with Narcissa Malfoy. IT was Draco Malfoy. His father was in Azkaban for being a Death Eater during the war.
“I would think someone whose father was in Azkaban for being a Death Eater would be grateful anyone would talk to him,” Harry said with blunt honesty.
“Shut up!” Malfoy jumped to his feet and his wand whipped forward, casting a weak, stinging hex at Harry. Harry, who was used to play fighting with Ron and his brothers, reacted instantly. He dodged the hex, and his left hand snapped out, ruining the wand's aim. Then his right hand came up in a hard punch that knocked Malfoy’s jaw together with an audible crack. Malfoy hit the ground like a ton of bricks.
“Oops.” Harry stared down at Malfoy’s groaning, splayed-out form and felt a little bit guilty. He hadn’t thought he swung that hard. The other boy must have the constitution of pudding.
His mum was sure to lecture him about his temper if she found out about this, not even at Hogwarts yet, and he punched someone. (Although Sirius and his dad would probably understand it had been an accident.) His mum always talked with him and Zinnia about controlling their tempers, although Zinnia was way worse than Harry about losing her temper.
“Holy shit!” The exclamation and the sound of footsteps had Harry look over as Ron and Neville arrived. Ron’s mouth was hanging open as he observed Harry standing over the splayed-out blonde boy. Neville stopped a little behind Ron, clutching his recently located toad. Ron smirked at Harry, “We were supposed to ask them where the toad was, not beat them up, Haz!”
Harry laughed and rolled his eyes while he shook his stinging hand. Damn, Malfoy had a hard, bony jaw. He would have to tell the Weasley twins their jaws were much softer to punch. The thought of their reaction was amusing. Malfoy remained on the floor, clutching his jaw.
“Oh,” Ron said as he took in the occupants of the compartment. “A baby death eater convention!”
The boys, facing them, glared at the label.
It was true, Harry realized as he looked at the other boys in the compartment, finally paying attention to who they were. Sirius had a book that outlined the pureblood families that he had gleefully shown Harry once to laugh at how many were likely going to die out as a result of Voldemort getting trounced in the war.
None of the boys in the compartment had a father. Nott, Goyle, and Crabbe’s fathers had been killed during the war fighting for Voldemort. Malfoy’s father was in Azkaban. The last boy, Zabini, had also lost his father, but his family had remained neutral during the war, and many suspected the boy’s mother had murdered her husband.
Even though they had been acting like gits, Harry felt a swell of sympathy. He couldn’t imagine his life without his dad. Harry wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up. He opened his mouth to try to smooth things over with the other boys, glaring at him for punching one of their number. “Um—”
“Why don’t you just go away?” The curly brown-haired boy asked as he knelt to help Malfoy.
Ron pulled Harry backward, looping his arm around his neck. “Gladly. No one wants to hang around with a bunch of losers. Let’s go, Haz.”
Harry glanced back as Ron pulled him along and saw all five pairs of eyes glaring at him. He hadn’t meant to knock out Malfoy, but Malfoy had tried to hex Harry first. It was a bit of a jerk move to act like it was all his fault. With that in mind, he grinned and winked at the glaring boys as he walked away with his friends. If they provoked him again, it was on.
“Shut up!” A familiar sharp voice snarled, making Harry, Ron, and Neville look over in the crowd of the first years. They had just made it into the double doors of Hogwarts, and everyone else was still staring with wide eyes around the large castle, except for the boys currently in an altercation.
Just as Harry thought, he spotted Malfoy along with the same kids from the compartment on the train surrounding another first-year. The dark-skinned boy showed no fear, though, as he glared at the group of boys. “No one’s going to shut up about them letting Death Eaters spawn like you in here!”
The brown-haired, curly boy beside Malfoy stepped slightly in front of him, his wand raised as he fired off a stinging hex. Nott, Harry remembered watching as the dark-skinned boy dived out of the way of the hex, the crowd parting around him as they gasped. The other boys from Nott’s group raised their wands too. It was one boy versus the five purebloods from the compartment.
“That’s not fair,” Neville said, starting forward with a determined set to his shoulders.
Harry met the eyes of a grinning Ron, who raised his wand to follow Neville toward the fight. He gave a small sigh at the thought of the howler his mother was sure to send as he headed to help Neville defend the other boy. Ganging up on one person definitely qualified as provoking. Harry thought again that his dad and Sirius would approve, if not his mum and Remus.
Neville and Ron came forward with their own stinging jinxes, but Harry followed up fast with a dancing feet spell. The crowd of children who had been watching with trepidation started laughing as the group of boys began dancing wildly.
“Show off,” Ron muttered to Harry before he smirked. “Watch this! Rictumsempra!”
The boys who had been dancing wildly started laughing uncontrollably. The other boy who had been dodging their spells made his way over to them, laughing at the spectacle. He stuck his hand out. “Dean Thomas.”
Harry smiled, shaking his hand. “Harry Potter. And these are my mates, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom.”
Dean nodded at them before looking at the boys, who were still laughing and dancing, tears streaming down their faces. “I could have handled them all, though. They shouldn’t be allowing people like that here.”
“Oh yeah, sure you would have,” Ron said sarcastically with an eye roll. With five brothers and a little sister, he was very familiar with the tactic of using overwhelming numbers to win. “But agreed. As soon as they’re put in Slytherin, which they will be, really throw them out.”
Harry grimaced a little at that, as he remembered his father telling him his grandmother was in Slytherin, as was his godfather’s brother. He didn’t think all Slytherins were bad, but he knew that people still felt really strongly about the war.
A bushy-haired girl stepped forward, glaring at them. “That idea sounds a lot like what started the first war.”
Ron looked at her with a curled lip. “Like you would know?”
“I would know. I read all the textbooks already, including the complete history of the—”
Ron yawned loudly. “Merlin, I’m bored already. Who cares?”
Harry, however, was distracted by the cat that was determinedly weaving its way through the crowd. What had his father said the animagus form of the headmistress of Hogwarts was again?
The cat leaped forward, transforming into the imposing figure of an older witch with her hair tied back tightly in a chignon. A glance of her eyes had the charms they had cast dismissed, and the other boys collapsed exhausted. “Let me guess. Potter. Weasley. Longbottom.” Her eyes flicked over to Dean Thomas. “And you?”
“Uh, Dean Thomas, ma’am.” The boy stood at attention, as if he were in the military.
“Right. You should perhaps reconsider who you hang out with.” She said with her lips pursed. “And you three detention with Professor Sprout, she needs help weeding. This Wednesday. I think this is faster than your father ever got detention, Mr. Potter.” And with that, she marched off, calling to the crowd. “It is time for the sorting ceremony. Please follow me!”
“My mum is going to be so pissed,” Harry said with a groan.
Neville looked quite pale now. “My gran is going to murder me and bury me for fertilizer.” His grandmother was of the opinion his mother and father were too much of a soft touch and so thought any discipline should be her responsibility. It caused many rows in the Longbottom household, and Neville quite hated it when his family fought, even when it was his mother and father getting after his gran for being too strict with him. Although it was debatable, which was worse: being buried in the garden or watching them all bicker?
Ron looked the most philosophical, having seen his mother send numerous howlers to his older twin brothers. Sometimes a wizard had to do what was right, no matter the consequences. And jinxing baby death eaters was always the right thing to do. Ron slapped Harry on the back. “Don’t worry mate, your dad will understand.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Harry and the other two trudged forward, following in Professor McGonagall and the crowd's wake, none of them paying attention to the bushy-haired girl helping the other boys stand on shaking feet.
The "Fixed" Timeline
We stay together.
Hermione stayed pressed to Harry for long minutes, trying to ground herself in the feel of him. Ever since she had woken up in this time, she felt like she was continually trying to find her footing, and they were stumbling from one situation to the next with barely a pause for breath.
The thought of seeing her parents was both exciting and stress-inducing. She had never seen them after casting the memory charm to protect them and send them away before starting the Horcrux hunt with Harry and Ron. How different would they be? Would the changes in the wizarding world even have affected them?
Harry’s hand slid up her back, threading through her curls and making her shiver against him. He tilted her head up to face him, his green eyes intense. “I love you,” Hermione whispered, staring into his eyes.
Harry’s head lowered until his lips brushed against hers. “Love you.”
Hermione pulled away, though, when Harry tried to deepen the kiss. “We have to pick out what we’re going to wear, something easy to transfigure. My magic seems… a bit strange since I woke up.”
“Mine is definitely a bit weaker. I’m not sure if I just got used to the power boost from the elder wand or it’s something else.”
Hermione stepped away towards his closet, and Harry sighed and went to sit on his bed. “One thing at a time. We’ll make a list.” Hermione opened the double closet doors, surveying the numerous clothes inside.
Harry watched Hermione from the bed as she went through his closet, pulling out shirts to look at them before sticking them back in. While he had more obvious physical changes—he kind of liked the fact that somehow he had gained a couple of inches in height and muscle mass —but Hermione also looked slightly different.
Her hair had always been quite messily frizzy, each curl determined to go in a different direction. Now, however, her hair was longer, and the curls were tightly wound instead of split apart. The overall effect made her hair seem darker than before.
Hermione also was a bit softer, her form fuller than it had been during the war. Food had only been a true problem during the months of the Horcrux hunt. The long months of deprivation, however, had changed them both. Harry and Hermione had never really regained all the weight they lost because food had permanently become a lower priority to both of them, even during happier moments.
As Harry watched, Hermione twisted, reaching up to grab at one of the boxes on the shelf above the clothes. The move pulled her shirt taut, showing off that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Hermione had always been quite beautiful to Harry, both physically and because of her personality. She was passionate and so incredibly caring, especially with him. It was almost unsettling sometimes, the depth of Hermione’s devotion to him, but Harry knew he couldn’t live without it. He, in fact, wouldn’t have lived without it. And now he needed Hermione’s intensity because he felt the same way about her.
These changes in her appearance, though…
It made something inside him twist with anxiety to realize that with these changes, it would be easier for other men to notice Hermione’s surface beauty. Harry thought back to that memory of Nott leaning close to her and the expression on Hermione’s face as she watched him.
Harry stood up abruptly, coming behind Hermione and wrapping his arms around her waist. He bent his head a little, nuzzling the back of her neck, enjoying how she tried not to react, but shivered anyway.
“Harry, I’m trying to pick out your clothes,” Hermione muttered, still focused on the shirts. She was anxious about him meeting her parents. How strange to think this would be the first time Harry met them in either timeline. Sure, he had seen them on the platform and in Diagon Alley, but never really had any meaningful interaction with them.
“Sorry.” He muttered, not letting her go, his lips pressed against her skin.
“When you’re sorry, you stop doing it.” Despite her words, Hermione’s hands had dropped from the clothes as she relaxed back against him, her head tilting invitingly.
“I want you.” He reached under her shirt, caressing her skin as his hands slid up to cup her breasts.
Hermione caught his hands as his thumbs caressed her hard nipples. “Your family already thinks I tricked you into marriage. We should wait until they do the testing.”
Harry let out a huff of breath, opening his mouth to tell her he didn’t care, but shut it when he realized a part of him did care. He did want them to like Hermione. “Cockblockers.” He muttered.
Hermione giggled, and he nipped the skin of her neck, making her jump. “Just think of all the other things we can do instead.”
Harry suppressed a shiver at her husky words. The other things his wife could do were very nice indeed. He shifted, pulling her back harder against him so his cock rested against her arse. “Yeah?”
Hermione twisted in his hold, turning to face him, her face flushed and eyes bright. “Mhmm, remember those first few months?” Her hand slid down his belly, playing with the elastic of his pajama bottoms.
Harry smiled at Hermione and led her backward until he had her pressed against the wall. “Are you talking about when we twisted ourselves in knots by only touching above the waist …or…?”
Hermione gave a naughty laugh, her hand slipping lower inside his trousers to caress him. “I’m not mental. We’re never doing that again.”
Hermione’s touch was firm and sure as she stroked Harry, knowing exactly how to drive him wild. Fuck. It wasn’t as good as being inside her, but he loved the feeling of her hand wrapped around him. He pushed his face against the curve of her neck, licking her skin before sucking hard. Hermione shivered, her head tilting to give him better access.
Then her hand released him, sliding up to push him back.
“What?”
Hermione licked her lips, smiling at him as she kept pressure on his chest, making him back up until Harry sat back down on the bed. “I want your mouth on me.”
“Fuck yes.” Harry scooted back eagerly, lying back and holding his hands out to her. “Come sit on me before I die.”
Hermione grinned at him, crawling on him before turning around in a sixty-nine position. “You’re so dramatic.”
Harry grabbed her arse, pulling her lower on his face. “I never joke about needing you sitting on my face.”
“Harry–” Hermione cut off with a squeal as he licked her, her head lowering to give him as good as she got.
Later they both lay on the bed panting, their muscles still puddles from the pleasure. “I really needed that,” Hermione muttered against Harry’s knee where she was sprawled to the side of him, not bothering to right herself.
Harry stroked her leg, which still rested against his cheek. “Me too.”
After a second, when Harry realized Hermione was going to continue to lie there without moving, he got up and flipped so that he was cuddling her properly, pulling her head onto his chest and stroking her back. Hermione smiled and started stroking his chest. It was slightly ticklish but soothing, causing the corners of his mouth to curl up.
“I don’t understand why I feel so anxious,” Hermione said, not stopping her stroking motions.
“What are you worrying over?”
“Everything it feels like. I’m not sure if your parents will like me. I don’t know how my parents will react to us getting married. The memories of the other me are bizarre.”
“My parents will like you,” Harry assured her. He may have to get them over their assumption that this was some potion plot, but once they saw how much he loved Hermione, Harry had no doubt they would welcome her. His other memories made him confident in the fact that, above all else, his parents wanted him to be happy. And Hermione was his happiness. “And well… if your parents get upset, we’ll just keep convincing them that this was right for us.”
“Hmm.”
A thought niggled in the back of Harry’s mind as he considered her last sentence. Her memories were bizarre, huh? “Hermione, where did you wake up? Before I found you in the Burrow?”
Hermione froze, her hand pressing on his chest. She sucked in a slow breath as if she was bracing herself to say the words. “Malfoy Manor.”
“Fuck.” Harry breathed as he wrapped her tightly in his arms. “What happened? How did you get out?”
Hermione frowned, thinking of Theo, Draco, and Luna. “I woke up in a bedroom. I didn’t realize where I was at first. It was dark.” Hermione didn’t look at Harry as she told him, staying cuddled tightly in his embrace.
It was sometimes hard for her to sort out her feelings. The feelings from her other self in this timeline intruded on Hermione with strong persistence. Guilt threaded through Hermione at how she had abandoned her two friends and… Theo. “I made my way downstairs, and that’s when I realized where I was — I saw—” She paused, cutting herself before swallowing before continuing. “Then I saw your Patronus, and I was going to try to leave, but Theo was there. He was worried for me.”
Harry shifted on the bed, his hand coming up to cradle her jaw to tilt her face upwards to face him. His heartbeat picked up at the look in her eyes. “He doesn’t matter.” Harry had absolute faith in Hermione. That faith didn’t stop the uncomfortable prickles of jealousy he could feel stabbing at him.
Hermione licked her lips, her gaze caught on his now. “I went towards the door, and Theo followed me. Then Luna and Draco came. Theo and Draco didn’t want to let me go, but Luna made them.”
It would be petty of him, wouldn’t it, to tell her not to use their first names? Harry drew his thumb slowly along her cheek. “You and Theo…?”
“He is—was — my boyfriend.”
Harry could feel the curl of his lip as he sneered the words. “He’s a pathetic loser.”
“Harry.”
The jealousy mixed with the anger of the memories the other him had of Theo. Harry took a deep breath trying to center himself again. “I don’t want you alone with him.”
Hermione’s brow wrinkled before it smoothed out, and she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. “I won’t be. I promise.”
Harry kissed her back. “There’s only one thing that scares me.”
“What’s that?”
“Losing you.”
Hermione’s leg slid over his as she pressed their bodies closer together. “That’s never going to happen, love.”
Notes:
So ya'll know how it is. Sometimes IRL takes a bit out of motivation and time. (sigh) The rest of this month and April are going to be really hectic for me. But I'm still here. The next update will probably be for Intertwined, then perhaps Remedy.
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Chapter 7: Slightly (Excessively) Overprotective Big Brother Harry
Summary:
Seventeen years old with a beautiful wife? Harry has one thought upper most in his mind.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Other Life
The corridors of Hogwarts were filled with witches and wizards rushing to their next class, some thwarted by playful staircases and an unknown charm filling the third floor of the north tower with bubbles that refused to pop. Three boys however ignored all the commotion as commonplace as they made their way to the lower levels.
“Haz,” Ron said with a pleading voice. “Mate. Best bespectacled wizard who has ever graced the hallowed halls of—”
“Merlin! No, I am not revising your history essay. I told you not to piss off Padma—” Harry began shoving up his glasses and pushing Ron away roughly by the shoulder. Ron had the terrible habit of opening his mouth before he thought it through and managed to regularly piss off any female in his vicinity.
Harry and the twins were starting to lose hope that smacking Ron on the back of the head would cure him of the unfortunate habit. As the twins had told Harry last time they smacked Ron, who had been trying to comment “helpfully” on Zinny’s wardrobe, “We thought we’d smack some tact loose eventually, but there is none in there, Haz. Sorry.”
Neville who was carrying a miniature potted tentacula plant didn’t bother looking up as he chimed in, “If you’d put half the thought into what you said to witches as you do to your chess strategies, you’d probably have a girlfriend.”
“Shut your…” Ron trailed off, slowing down and then pausing as he considered Neville’s advice. Neville always agreed with Harry, but perhaps this time — nah. Ron shook his head, calling out to his mates who had kept walking toward their class, “Wait! Merlin! Wait up!”
Harry rolled his eyes and sped up, his head down as he walked to potions. He was walking passed some seventh years as he heard the perpetual pain in his arse Cormac Mclaggen sniggering. Mclaggen was a git, and as this was his last year in Hogwarts, Harry couldn’t wait to be rid of him. Harry didn’t know how such an arsehole had managed to get into Gryffindor.
A seventh-year Ravenclaw, Marcus Belby, walked next to Mclaggen uncomfortably, clutching his books and hunching his shoulders.
“Did you see Potter on her broom? I saw straight up her skirt. I don’t like Slytherins but I might make an exception for that sweet little—”
Anger rushed through Harry so viciously that the world seemed to go red, and he was blinded. What was that bastard saying about his little sister? The image of Zinny as a toddler stumbling through the lawn of Potter's Peak was clear, as if it had been yesterday instead of years ago. Harry completely lost control, and only flashes came to him of the wet smack of McLaggen’s head as he bashed it into the floor. He heard screaming and realized distantly it was coming from his own mouth. “What did you say? What did you say? Try saying that again without any FUCKING TEETH!”
Harry ignored the shouting around him as the students scattered, making a circle around him as he did his best to beat McLaggen into the stone floor beneath them. The boy’s face was almost unrecognizable as Harry lifted him by the hair again before slamming him down with a sickening crunch. “If you ever talk about—even look in the direction of my sister—! Never—ever—fuck with my family—”
“Haz! Fuck! Stop!” Ron yelled, panicked and trying to pull Harry off the other boy. “Neville, help me!”
Neville scrambled forward from where he had been staring, stunned. One minute they had been walking normally to class and then in a split second Harry had tackled Mclaggen and beat the bloody shit out of him. Neville grabbed one of Harry’s arms, yanking backward while Ron pulled the other.
Harry’s eyes practically glowed in rage and remained fixed on McLaggen’s limp form. From beyond the gaggle of the crowd, a man’s loud voice cut through the hall. “Get your bums out of my way, right now, or detention!”
Fabian Prewett, who shared Gryffindor head of house duties with his twin brother Gideon, shoved to the front of the crowd of gaping students, stopping when he saw the beaten boy on the floor. Of course, it was Potter and his little merry band. “What the bloody hell happened here?”
Potter, however, had never been violent like this before, and still looked like he was about to explode as his friends yanked desperately at his arms. Fabian decided this was best handled privately and wanted his twin in on the conversation before taking Potter to task. He’d likely even have to involve the boy’s parents.
Theodore Nott stopped on the right side of Professor Prewett, and his girlfriend halted abruptly next to him as she took in the scene with a soft gasp. At her gasp, Potter’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing on Hermione. Theo reached down and grasped her hand, trying to pull her backward and out of sight of the violent idiot, but Hermione resisted. Theo looked at Hermione and saw that she and Potter were staring at each other. Potter had a stupid expression, Theo couldn’t read, and Hermione had a faint look of horror and disgust.
Harry froze for a moment as he met the gaze of the curly-haired Ravenclaw prefect. The look she had made his chest tighten in unwanted remorse. The strange stare was broken when Neville and Ron finally managed to jerk him back and away from McLaggen. The three of them fell backward with a loud oomph as they hit the floor with Harry on top. In rough movements, Harry jerked his arms away from his mate's hold, picking himself up quickly and adjusting his school robe, his face still angry. In a loud, firm voice, Harry finally answered Professor Prewett, “McLaggen fell, sir. I was trying to help him up.”
“Oh yeah, then?” Professor Prewett responded skeptically to Potter, a grimace on his face as he went to help the other bloody boy up. This was definitely something he was going to handle in private with the lad and his parents. Violence was not the answer to school disputes. He looked at the boy he was helping to stand. “What happened, McLaggen? What started the attack?”
Neville and Ron were pale but shook their heads vehemently, opening their mouths to start babbling support for Harry’s statement. Ron chimed in, “No, Uncle Fab, Harry was just–”
“Professor Prewett right now, Ron.” Professor Prewett cut his nephew off sharply as he steadied McLaggen, who stumbled. His sister Molly may complain about her son’s grades, but the one thing Ron excelled at was loyalty to his friends. Thus, Fabian was going to disregard whatever excuses Ron made for Potter.
Harry avoided looking at the Ravenclaw prefect again, instead focusing on McLaggen, who stared fearfully at him while he clutched onto Professor Prewett's support. He made sure the other boy saw the threat in his eyes. “You’ll be more careful in the future not to fall again, won’t you, McLaggen?”
“Yeh— Yes!” McLaggen answered in a garbled voice.
“I’ll take him to Madam Pomfrey.” The Ravenclaw girl stated firmly, stepping around to McLaggen’s side and taking over, bracing him from Professor Prewett. Quietly but loudly enough for the small group to hear, she told Professor Prewett, “You’re just as bad as he is, sir, if you believe those lies.”
The "Fixed" Timeline
Harry and Hermione arrived down at the breakfast table extremely late. Harry wore a deep blue button-down shirt that Hermione advised him brought out the green of his eyes. Hermione, meanwhile, wore a soft yellow summer dress transfigured from another one of Harry’s shirts. Harry tried not to fixate on his wife’s thighs as she sat next to him, her leg pressed firmly against his. Like everything else in his life currently, his hormones were out of control.
Fuck, who was he kidding? Things were always out of control in some manner or other. Harry had a million and one things to worry about. But the one thing uppermost in his mind currently?
He wanted to make love to his wife. He didn’t want to deal with the weird morass of emotions he felt when he looked at his family. Harry avoided their worried and inquisitive gazes as he and Hermione sat side by side. The conversation, which had seemed brisk when they entered the room, had stopped.
Harry stretched out an arm along the back of Hermione’s chair, playing with the end of one of her curls as they both tried to appear relaxed in front of his family. Harry could tell Hermione was nervous by the way she kept one arm in her lap, curved over her stomach. Her expression, however, was serene as she stared down at her food.
The silence after they sat stretched out awkwardly until his mother determinedly cleared her throat. “So. Hermione, how did you two meet?”
“I’m going to guess at Hogwarts Lils,” Sirius interjected before Hermione could open her mouth.
Lily glared at Sirius while he smiled back at her. “I meant the details.” She turned back to Hermione, “Or when did you two start dating?” Lily knew her son was sexually active and approached relationships more similarly to his godfather as a teenager rather than his father. Despite that, she refused to believe that her son willingly married someone he had never talked to her about.
“Yes, brother, when did you two start dating?” Zinnia asked sweetly, knowing Harry hadn’t dated Hermione. She hadn’t even seen Harry talk to the Ravenclaw. Ever. In fact, now that she considered it, it was strange how Harry had managed to so completely avoid the prefect. Zinnia wondered if Harry had managed to continue that in the prefect meetings when the two would have been forced into closer proximity.
James had remained unusually quiet as he observed his son and his daughter-in-law. Harry was subtly stroking Hermione’s shoulder where his hand rested protectively. James shot a glance at Remus. Remus was more in line with James’ thinking that there had to be a logical explanation for Harry’s behavior. Something had obviously happened between his son and the girl to prompt a rushed marriage. James knew his son wasn’t the type to do something he didn’t choose to do, and it may be arrogant to think, but James was convinced that Harry was too smart to get taken in by a love potion plot.
“Recently,” Harry answered his sister blandly, picking up a scone and taking a bite. Hermione’s mouth twitched, and Harry shot her a small smile.
“Is she staying for your party?” Neville asked curiously. He was sitting beside Zinnia with a thoughtful look on his face as if he was trying to figure out an arithmancy problem without all the variables he needed.
Harry had always been popular, even though Neville knew Harry preferred sticking close only to a small group and mostly ignored the majority of people. Harry didn’t even bother to remember names unless you were part of his in-crowd. Still, though, Harry spoke to anyone and everyone comfortably, even Slytherins, with the obvious exception, of course, of a particular Slytherin group in their year at Hogwarts.
However, as Neville stared at the closeness of his best friend to the pretty curly-haired witch, he realized what he had thought wasn’t true. How had Neville never realized how completely Harry avoided the Ravenclaw prefect? In retrospect, as Neville watched Harry absently play with a curl of her hair, that avoidance had meant something-or had hidden some feeling. It did hurt Neville to think that Harry felt he had to keep his feelings for the girl a secret even from him; he would have supported Harry no matter what, even if he had been pining for some other bloke’s girlfriend.
“My party—” Harry began in a questioning tone before cutting himself off, and looking at Hermione. Hermione gave him a subtle shrug. Waking up in July when the fight with Voldemort had been in September was the least of their concerns.
The last thing Harry felt like doing was putting up with a birthday party. Occlumency helped keep his face serene as he responded. “Ah. Yes. That’s today.”
Zinnia threw up her hands before folding them across her chest stubbornly. “Whatever you’re trying to hide, you’re doing a shit job, so you’d better just confess whatever is going on with you and her.”
“She’s right, Harry.” Recognizing the strange serenity glinting in Harry’s eyes as occlusion, Sirius leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. Occlumency wasn’t taught in Hogwarts, and as far as he knew, his godson didn’t have the specialized skill. Growing up in the Black family household, Sirius had learned quite a few tricks early on to avoid his mother’s punishments. It was slightly disturbing to see his godson using occlumency, a skill he hadn’t had — right after marrying a witch he’d never mentioned to Sirius. “No matter what it is, you know I– we are all here to help you.”
Harry’s body subtly stiffened as everyone at the table looked at him. Hermione felt the spike in his magic as his temper flared, and she reached out with her hand under the table, grasping his thigh. She leaned up to whisper in his ear in a light voice, trying to help Harry feel less stressed, “They’re right, you know. You are a shit liar. Lucky, I love that about you.”
“You’re such a shit fucking liar, mate,” Ron said, struggling to keep his voice even as he pressed his hand hard against his ribs where a cutting curse had sliced him almost to the bone. The spellfire was still smashing into the wall behind the three of them with thunderous crashes.
Hermione looked at Ron quickly, making sure he was still mobile, before glancing at Harry next to her. Harry’s face was slowly melting back into his own as the polyjuice potion wore off. She had backup plans for their backup plans. They wouldn’t be able to get the information they needed from these death eaters anymore, and that meant they were useless to them. “It doesn’t matter. Time for a new plan.”
“Yeah? What’s the new plan, then?” Ron asked, breathing shallowly as he cast small healing spells at his side.
“We kill them all,” Hermione said firmly, meeting Harry’s gaze while they both thought about what had provoked Harry to break his cover. The Death Eaters had been bragging about torturing Muggles and Muggleborn.
Harry gave one decisive nod to her, entirely on board with the change, before looking over to Ron. “Yeah, I am a shit liar,” Harry confirmed with a grim smile.
He dug into his pocket, pulling out some dittany to hand to Ron so he could finish patching himself up. “So let me tell you something true.”
Harry paused, straightening and looking toward the flashes and bangs of spells that hadn’t ceased. His jaw tightened and his lip curled as he spoke with deadly intent. “I’m going to kill every single one of those fuckers.”
The elder wand proceeded Harry as he spun and ran back into the room, targeting the scum that had made him waver in his disguise. “Avada Kedavra!” The green spell shot out like a bullet, slamming into Alberic Nott.
Ron and Hermione were on either side of Harry, watching his flank and cutting down enemies where they could. In the end, the golden trio stood there staring at the bodies and ignoring the smell of death and fire that permeated the air.
Harry was blank-faced as he surveyed the damage they had done. Hermione could practically feel the self-recriminations trying to tear him down. She slipped her hand into Harry’s and squeezed reassuringly. They were doing the right thing. “I love you.”
Harry’s calm green eyes met hers, and his face shifted to one of acceptance. Then his lips curled up, devotion radiating from him as he focused on her. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her knuckles. “I love you more.”
Resolve filled Harry as he looked at Hermione with the shared memory echoing between them. “Yeah, well, let me tell everyone the truth then.” He turned and faced his sister and everyone else. “I love Hermione, and I am not giving her up. So get used to it.” Or else echoed strongly at the end of the statement.
When Lily started to speak, James placed a hand on her arm and squeezed, clearing his throat. “We’re not asking you to do something you don’t want to do, son. You are still okay with doing the potion cleansing regimen, though?”
“Of course,” Hermione answered firmly when a stubborn look appeared on Harry’s face. There was nothing to find, so why not get rid of that worry for them? “We don’t mind at all.”
“Great!” James glanced at Lily reassuringly. “I’m sure it will come out clear and then we can all just be an — um — big happy family!” He finished with forced cheerfulness at everyone’s dubious expression. James threw a sharp glance at Sirius prompting him to jump in to help him ease the tense atmosphere.
“Right.” Sirius agreed immediately at James’ glance without any conviction. There was a swift motion under the table as Remus twitched and Sirius jumped, then glared at Remus before clearing his throat and continuing more normally, “Are you and Hermione going to lead your songs then?”
Lead his songs…
The words turned over in Harry’s mind slowly as he searched his memory for his other birthday parties.
Bloody hell. The other him always led karaoke songs on his birthday! What kind of mental tradition was that?! He didn’t want to sing in front of his bloody family!
“Oh… uuuh… well…. I have to take Hermione to visit her parents!” Harry settled on finally quelling his first impulse which was to tell Sirius fuck no, he wasn’t going to get on stage and sing! Hermione was looking at him inquisitively, wondering what he was trying to wiggle out of. Hmm. The image of Hermione, red-cheeked and trying to sing, came to Harry’s mind.
That would be kind of cute. Still, it was a no for today. He met Hermione’s eyes and reached out with legilimency, his mind brushing against hers.
Hermione made an agreeable noise, not getting any memories or thoughts from Harry but understanding that he was ready to get away from his family for some breathing room. “Yes, it’s getting a bit late and we might be there for a time while we explain to my parents what happened last night.”
“You haven’t explained to us what happened last night,” Zinnia said in a sotto voce that Hermione ignored.
Hermione stood, and Harry stood with her, his hand keeping contact with her body. “Right. Well.” He paused awkwardly, looking at everyone. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“I can go with you—” James, Zinnia, Neville, Sirius, and Lily started in unison and then broke off, looking at each other. Remus smirked a little at them and said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to prep your birthday all alone, so I can come too!”
Hermione had horrifying visions of all of Harry’s family, plus Neville, crowding around them while they tried to make her parents understand why she was showing up married and persuade them to go along with her moving out into Harry’s house. “No!” She stopped and cleared her throat before starting again, much more quietly. “No, I mean thank you very much, however, it would probably be best with just Harry and me.”
Harry nodded in agreement. “We’ll be back later, and we can help set up or whatever else is needed.” He waved a vague hand around not knowing and not wanting to discover anything else about his other life currently. He laced his hand tightly with Hermione, pulling her a little back as they stepped backward in unison.
He was going to turn before he stopped, having caught sight of his mother’s worried gaze. He gave her a reassuring smile, his mouth opening and the words coming out without a thought. “I’ll be back before you know it, mum. Love you.”
“Love you.” Lily echoed, watching her son pull his wife out the door. No one at the table moved for a second as they sat ruminating on Harry’s bizarre behavior.
James looked over at Sirius. “Fancy a walk?”
“Always,” Sirius said, standing up.
“I want to—”
“No,” James and Sirius said at the same time, cutting Zinnia off. James continued a bit softer, his hand on Lily’s shoulder as he stood too. “Sirius and I are just going to make sure everything goes smoothly for Harry, just in case Hermione’s parents aren’t as understanding as they’re hoping.”
“Your mum and I are still going to need help setting everything up for the party,” Remus interjected, trying to keep things peaceful.
“Fine,” Zinnia muttered sulkily, ignoring Neville’s sympathetic glance.
They kept quiet as they left the house, walking away until they crossed the ward line that would allow them to disapparate. Harry held out his hand silently asking Hermione to allow him to side along her. He had visited the area one memorable time in the past and knew where to go.
They appeared without a sound at the end of Hermione’s street in the shade of tall bushes grouped at the corner. Hermione didn’t move, her hand fisted in the material of his shirt. Harry pulled her closer and hugged her comfortingly. One of Hermione’s biggest regrets was how her magical life had slowly separated her from her parents until finally, she had no choice but to send them away to keep them safe.
“It will be alright,” Harry murmured into her curls. “We’ll explain together.”
Hermione sighed, relaxing against him. “I keep telling myself not to be scared. Everything just feels so strange.”
“I know.” Harry rubbed her back soothingly. “But we’re together, there’s no Voldemort, so many more people are alive— we just need to get our feet under us in this time period and we’ll be fine. We’re going to Hogwarts in a month, so that will give us some distance and time to decide what we’re going to do.”
“What I want to do is go back to our flat and hide for a week or so with a stack of good books,” Hermione said, referencing the flat they had shared in the past.
“How about we visit your parents, sort everything out with them, then we’ll head to a bookshop.”
“It’s your birthday, we can’t.”
“It’s my birthday, so we absolutely can.” Harry contradicted. He wanted his wife to be happy, and books were always a surefire method of improving her mood.
Hermione smiled, standing on her toes to give him a brief kiss before nodding and turning toward her house. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Harry kept a tight grip on her hand, his thumb sliding over her soft skin as they walked down the sidewalk to her home. The Granger home was decidedly upper middle class, painted a soft blue with rows of windows.
When they reached the door, Hermione stepped forward to knock firmly. The door opened to an older gentleman with greying hair. “Dad,” Hermione said in a shaking voice, about to step forward.
Before she could move, however, the door opened wider to reveal two more people. A woman with curly hair reminiscent of his wife’s and a boy, Harry recognized from Hermione’s other memories.
“Hermione!” Theodore Nott breathed, reaching for her.
Notes:
Okay so here's the deal IRL things are eating into my writing time and will continue to eat into my writing time for I'd say the next few months. I'm hoping to eventually get back to a schedule but currently, I don't have a date on that -- but I'm not gone and there will continue to be updates just a bit more sporadic and spaced out. I did debate announcing a hiatus for a time rather than just leaving it up in the air but I'm going to try to still update so we'll see how that goes. I am running a Harmony Fest though! Please submit any prompts you'd like to see written or get your writing caps on for the claiming!
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Links:
Harmony Fest : Ao3 | Tumblr | Discord - Discord is 18+ Only and will have a specific Fest Chat
Harmony Reddit - find/share/discuss Harmony fanfics!
Chapter 8: Change in Plans
Summary:
Separation had NOT been in the plans.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
James stood with hands shoved in the pockets of his cloak, his entire focus a few houses down where his son stood next to his wife (and that still felt weird to think) waiting for the door to be answered. Next to him amongst some conveniently tall bushes was his best mate since his first year at Hogwarts, Sirius Black. Sirius was much more relaxed, viewing the whole situation with Harry like an interesting puzzle rather than the catastrophe like Lily and Zinnia.
James wasn’t as panicked as his wife, but he wasn’t as relaxed as Sirius either. “Harry’s going to be fine. What could happen? I mean, my son is going up to some random muggles to tell them he married their daughter, and if someone showed up that I never met and had married Zinnia—”
“You would have probably tried to be his friend while Harry and Lily would have murdered him,” Sirius interjected his focus on the couple waiting for the door to be answered.
“Lily would not have murdered him!”
Sirius shot James a look at him conveniently leaving out Harry from his disagreement. Harry had gotten into just as much trouble as the Marauders during his Hogwarts years. Still, the closest he had gotten to being seriously at risk of being kicked out of the school was when he had beaten Cormac McLaggen bloody in front of practically the entire student body. At first, Harry had refused to provide any explanation, having scared the boy into insisting he had fallen. It was only later, after repeated conversations, that Harry had admitted he overheard McLaggen bragging about seeing up Zinnia’s skirt, and he had lost his temper.
“That—well. You know how protective he is of Zinnia, not that she puts up with it, but still—you know what? You’re shit at saying comforting things.” James turned away from Sirius looking back towards his son.
“Yeah, that’s more your thing, or Moony or Lily. I never acquired that skill.”
“Work on it,” James advised as the door to the blue house they had been watching opened, and suddenly his son’s wand was in his hand like he had conjured, and it was pressed against another boy's throat. “Fuck.”
James jerked forward to intervene but halted when Sirius pressed his hand against his chest, holding him back. “No wait. Let's see if he can sort it out–we don’t want to barge in and make things worse.”
“Starting off with assaulting the in-laws? I don’t think it can get worse, Pads.” James muttered, completely focused on trying to understand what was being said in the confrontation four houses away, even though it was impossible, even with his hearing a bit enhanced from his animagus form.
“Theodore Nott,” Harry said quietly, his wand digging into the boy’s throat.
Theo’s eyes followed the wand down to the hand holding it, noticing the silver runes etched in Harry’s skin. The runes were almost invisible until some hidden light made them gleam, and Theo’s eyes widened, and he looked over to Hermione’s hand. “What have you done?”
A part of Hermione found it interesting that Theo seemed to understand the significance of the markings she had never run across in all her readings on magic. It figured it would be something that a pureblood would recognize. She shook off the faint anger the thought stirred and focused on Harry instead.
He was entirely too relaxed for the situation they were in, and that was never a good sign. When they had been younger, his temper had been fairly straightforward and explosive, but as they had gotten older, he had gotten better at hiding it. He had fooled so many Death Eaters with a relaxed posture and faint smile. Hermione reached out, her hand snagging in a belt loop on the back of Harry’s jeans. “Harry.” She said, trying to switch his focus from Nott.
Her parents were wide-eyed and silent, understanding that something serious was happening between the three of them, but unsure of how to react. Her father made up his mind first, clearing his throat and advising Harry sternly. “I don’t know who you are, but I will not put up with any violence in this house, magical or otherwise. Please put that away.”
They stood there tensely waiting for long seconds as Harry remained still, ignoring Hermione’s father’s demand, his eyes fixed on Theo. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Harry finally advised the boy, lowering his wand to his side.
Hermione’s mother gave a small forced laugh, trying to break the tension. “Okay, so someone needs to tell us what is happening here. Hermione, your friend Theo showed up this morning, very concerned about you, saying you were missing from the sleepover with Luna?”
The memory of waking up at Malfoy Manor, its cold, bitter magic wrapping around her as she stumbled blindly from the bedroom, slithered up Hermione’s back at her mother’s question. The memory of the day she had been tortured there was trying to claw its way to the front of her consciousness. It had been so long since Hermione had reacted to the events in Malfoy Manor in such a visceral way that she was out of practice suppressing its impact. Even though she struggled against it, the memory exploded inside her. Bellatrix’s whispers echoed in her ear as her forearm burned and her lungs shriveled.
Harry felt his wife’s hand fist in his shirt, pressing hard against his back while his magic prickled with alarm. Hermione was pale, and her eyes were blank as she stared at her mother, her mouth open in search of words. “She was with me,” Harry answered for her, and when Hermione’s eyes darted to his, he slid inside her mind, helping her push back the sudden onslaught of memories.
Theo took in Hermione’s suddenly pale countenance, the way her mouth opened, and she couldn’t seem to speak. All the while, Potter stood next to her threateningly, with antiquated marriage runes on both their hands. His blue eyes hardened, and he said in an accusatory voice,” He did something to Hermione and forced her to marry him.”
Hermione’s dad scoffed at that ludicrous accusation. “My daughter hasn’t married anyone. She’s only seventeen! Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two boys, but you can sort it out off my property. Theo, I don’t know if you and Hermione fought, but this is not amusing and I thought better of you—”
“Sir,” Theo said firmly. “I am not joking, and I think we should report this to Magical Law Enforcement—”
“Hermione.” Her mother cut off Theo, and Hermione met her mother’s gaze. Hermione couldn’t let go of Harry’s shirt. Her hand felt frozen as she clutched him both to brace herself and keep him next to her. “Tell us what is really going on, honey. Did you and Theo break up?”
“No–Yes—I mean—” Hermione babbled, avoiding Theo’s gaze and staring earnestly into her mother’s eyes. This was not at all how she had envisioned the conversation with her parents would go. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and started again. “May Harry and I please come in and sort this out instead of standing in the doorway?”
Hermione’s father looked at his daughter and the two teenage boys, who were having a staring contest. “Yes, your mother and I are due an explanation; however, I think it would be best if that explanation were kept to only family. Theo, I’m sure Hermione can get in touch with you later, and — what is your name, boy?”
Harry’s jaw tightened. “Harry Potter, sir.”
“Yes, well, Harry, I’m sure Hermione can get in touch with you later—”
“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s not—” Harry began to decline, leaving Hermione.
“Harry.”
At Hermione’s quietly pleading tone, Harry knew what was going to happen even before he looked into Hermione’s eyes and felt her reach for him. His hand tightened on his wand, and he helped her bridge the connection with his legilimency.
Let me straighten this out, love. It will only be a few minutes. Wait for me and I’ll come out and get you after I explain everything to them. Hermione’s words tugged softly at Harry, trying to get him to agree.
I’m not leaving him in here with you. And you’re coming back with me.
Hermione nodded at Harry in agreement before turning back to her parents. “Okay, let’s discuss this privately, then.”
Harry stepped back and mockingly gestured toward the yard for Nott to proceed him in leaving. Nott’s shoulders straightened as he stepped past them, and Harry turned to follow him as Hermione stepped inside the house with her parents. The door closed with a thud on the two wizards.
Harry followed Nott slowly until he reached the pavement at the end of the yard. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood in a relaxed pose, dismissing Nott from his mind and focusing his attention on the Granger house. Harry wondered how Hermione was handling the explanation of being married. Since arriving back in the past or the fixed future or whatever the fuck this time could be called, Hermione had seemed unusually fragile. It made Harry feel extremely unsettled, and he hated that she was out of his sight.
The part of him that had grown up with Lily and James Potter whispered to him that everything would be okay. Parents loved their children and would do anything for them. Hermione’s parents might be a little mad at first, but they would get over it. Even Harry’s own experience with the Dursleys and Weasleys seemed to concur with that assessment. Vernon and Petunia would have done anything for Dudley and, in fact, did anything Dudley wanted. The Weasleys weren’t quite as bad as the Dursleys with their children, though. Molly tried her best to get her children to behave the way she wanted, but she was a very protective and loving mother.
Still…
As time passed, the muscles on Harry’s back tensed up with the effort he exerted not to go knock on the front door to check on her. Any minute now, she would come to call him in. Hermione had been by his side while Harry faced his own parents, and just having her presence there had helped him not feel completely unhinged by the entire situation. Yet she was facing the same situation alone, and it felt wrong. But what could he do? Break down the door and force it? Definitely not the way to endear him to her parents.
Harry’s focus switched abruptly when Nott suddenly turned to face him, his hands twitching. It was obvious the boy was trying to keep himself from attacking Harry. He tried not to let himself anticipate fighting Nott too much. He knew without having to be told that Hermione wouldn’t want them fighting on her parent's front lawn. But the idea of hexing Nott was extremely tempting. Images flashed in Harry’s mind as he pictured the effects of various spells on Nott’s countenance. Boils would be a nice touch.
Nott’s bright blue eyes held a simmering rage as he faced Harry. “I don’t know what you did to make her—”
Make Hermione do something? Yeah right, if Harry could make his wife do things, he’d be in there with her right now glued to her side while she faced her parents. Harry laughed at the boy who obviously didn’t know what he was talking about, rocking back on his trainers. “No one makes my wife do anything she doesn’t want to do. If you knew Hermione, you’d know that.”
“I know her better than you ever will, Potter.” Nott sneered back, giving the word heavy innuendo. Harry thought Nott looked like his father sneering like that. Well before Harry had killed him. “Hermione never would have married someone like you. She loves me and can barely stand you. I’m not going to let you play your stupid games with her. You think you can get away with anything because of your father—”
Harry’s expression darkened at Theo’s words, his hands fisting at his side. Theo’s eyes dropped to his hands, noting the movement. “Are you going to hit me? That’s what you do, isn’t it? You’re just a violent, pathetic thug.”
Harry took a deliberate step into Nott’s space, barely a breath between them, enjoying the fact he was taller than Nott as he looked down at the other boy. Harry didn’t think he would have been in the other timeline. His emotions were rampaging behind the tight locks of his occlumency, urging him to squash Nott like an unwanted bug.
Hit him? Harry wouldn’t hit him. He’d bury the bastard.
But Hermione wouldn’t like it.
Fuck.
Harry pushed his emotions back further, looking at Nott coldly but allowing sympathy to leak into his expression simply because he knew it would further enrage the boy. “I’m going to try to be patient with you, Nott, because I can’t imagine having Hermione and then losing her.” Then Harry took a large step back and made a show of putting away his wand. The silver runes gleamed on his hand, proclaiming his marriage as the writing caught non-existent streams of light. “But don’t interfere with my marriage, or it will be the last thing you ever do.”
Sharp cracks announced further apparitions, and they both looked down the street to see three more people appear near Hermione’s house. Draco Malfoy. Luna Lovegood. Blaise Zabini.
Malfoy was holding Luna’s hand. Both Luna and Malfoy had such pale skin you could barely see a contrast in their skin tones. The sight of them holding hands made Harry’s stomach curdle. How could Luna bear to touch Malfoy when she’d been locked in his fucking dungeon?
Harry wanted to go rip her hand out of Malfoy’s. “Luna.”
Luna looked at Harry tranquilly. Her large blue eyes were bright and calm, like the sky on a cloudless day. She stepped protectively in front of Malfoy, not letting him step around her when he tried. “Hello, Harry. How are you?”
“Why are you talking to him like that?” Malfoy muttered angrily behind her silly attempt to block him, although she was almost a foot shorter.
“Figuring things out,” Harry replied, looking at the four of them. He wondered where Malfoy’s little guards Crabbe and Goyle were or if Malfoy had replaced them in this timeline with Nott and Zabini. Harry half stepped forward, still considering separating Malfoy and Luna.
Malfoy finally yanked Luna backward while he and Zabini nervously stepped slightly forward in response. Nott noted their movements and his wand was suddenly in his hand, pointing at Harry.
“Theo, put away your wand please,” Luna said, peering around her Slytherin blockade. “Harry I—
“Harry–” The loud voice coming from behind him made Harry react without further thought. There were too many people surrounding him. His wand appeared in his hand as he whirled in a circle shouting a wide disbursement disarming charm. Harry’s magic rushed out like an expanding ring that started with Harry in the center. His power made the red disarming charm look like a wave as it rushed towards the wizards surrounding him, snatching their wands and knocking them backward. Six wands spun in an arc toward Harry.
Harry didn’t bother to try to catch the wands, letting them clatter in front of him as he backed towards the Grangers’ door to make sure none of them approached Hermione’s house. He looked over and spotted the stunned faces of his father and Sirius — both with empty hands. Damn, that had been his father’s voice calling him.
“Really? You followed me here?” He asked them with exasperated fondness.
James folded his arms across his chest while Sirius just looked impressed. “I’m your father.”
Harry tried not to smile at them, but he wasn’t quite successful. It had only been him, Hermione, and Ron for so long that seeing the unwavering support on his father's and godfather's faces felt really good. Harry pushed away the uncomfortably warm feeling in his chest. He turned back to the other group. “I’m going to need you lot to leave—Nott, Zabini, and Malfoy—” Harry pointed his wand at them as he named them. “Luna…” He trailed off, looking at her. “Why don’t you stay with me and wait for Hermione?”
“No way,” Nott interjected before Luna could respond. He looked towards James Potter. “You realize your son forced my girlfriend to marry him? You and your cronies may be in charge of the Ministry but we will be bringing this before the Wizengamot.”
Sirius touched James’ elbow before he could speak, silently asking to handle it when James met his eyes. At James' nod, he turned to the boy accusing Harry. “Alberic Nott’s son, aren’t you?”
Theo nodded stiffly, eyeing the three of them.
Sirius gestured to Harry’s hand where the runes gleamed every so often. “Then you know what those are — the Notts have a tree like that, don’t they?”
This time Nott didn’t nod, as if he knew already where Sirius was leading.
“A marriage bond like that only takes if both parties are willing—”
“He must have potioned her — they fooled the magic —”
“Boy,” Sirius said sharply. “Magic like that isn’t fooled by potions and curses—if there had been something forcing either of them — they would not be bound.” Sirius finished with finality.
Huh, Harry thought, staring at Sirius. He wondered why then—
“If you knew that, why the bloody fuck were you asking for testing Pads?” James muttered quietly at Sirius’ side.
Harry barely restrained himself from nodding in aggravated agreement.
“Lily and Zinnia need something more tangible,” Sirius answered back just as quietly.
Harry and James grimaced at each other, knowing Sirius was right.
Nott was shaking his head, though. “No. I refuse to believe Hermione would have willingly married someone like him. They have absolutely nothing in common.”
Harry reached down grasping the wands at his feet, his wand still pointing at the trio of Slytherins. He ignored the fact that he was pointing at Luna also, since she was behind them. Sirius’ wand was easy to pick out and one of the other wands’ magic felt familial, Harry figured that would have to be his father’s. He tossed them their wands as they approached and they both easily caught them.
“Luna?” Harry prompted again, ignoring Nott’s statement. He didn’t care what other wizards believed.
“I think it would be best for us to talk another time, Harry,” Luna said calmly, ignoring the surrounding exclamations.
“I’ll be waiting.” He assured her as he tossed the wands to them.
Luna and Malfoy disapparated first, followed by Zabini. Nott, perhaps realizing he wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything further, glared at Harry. “This isn’t over.” He stated before disapparating.
“Ha!” Sirius exclaimed once they were gone. “I feel like I’m in some romantic drama! How exciting.”
Harry barely refrained from rolling his eyes when he noticed his father doing the same thing. Then the Granger’s front door swung open, and Harry looked at his father and Sirius. “Probably not the best time for introductions. You two should head back to the house.” Harry paused, seeing the refusal on both their faces with aggravation. “Fine, just don’t come near the house or upset them. Hermione is already stressed enough.”
“Definitely a little Prongs with his wife,” Sirius murmured to James at his side.
“Do not start calling him Prongslet again,” James warned him back in a threatening tone.
Sirius gave a soft huff of breath as he observed the girl leaving the house. “Whatever the news is, it doesn’t look good.”
Harry pretended he didn’t hear the conversation as he walked towards Hermione, who had a worried expression.
“Harry—”
He could already hear the apology in her voice and cut her off before she could even start. “No, you said—we agreed—”
“My parents don’t understand, and they’re very angry. They want me to stay with them without any magical contact—”
“No. Just no. I get they’re upset. I get it, Hermione. But no, this isn’t — you aren’t —” Harry threw up his hands, feeling the echoes of her emotions as his magic flared, touching Hermione’s. Fuck, she was going to cry. He stepped closer to her, pulling her into his arms and trying to calm them both down. “You know separating is a bad decision, Hermione.”
Hermione’s hand slid around his neck, her face pressed against him, almost muffling her words. “They’re going to disown me if I leave.”
“What?” Harry’s heart sped up, his shoulders stiffening. What a bunch of bastards to threaten her like that! “Hermione, we’ll leave and come back later when things are calmer to explain things. They’re not going to disown you! That’s ridiculous.”
Hermione pulled back from him, her eyes watery. Her voice was rushed and pleading as she explained. “It’s because of me—it was always because of me—I was never honest with them about things in our world. Not when everything happened at Hogwarts during the war and not now, apparently. I don’t want to lose them again, Harry. I know it's not the best time, but it would only be for August. In September, we go back to school, and we’ll be back together until we can figure something else out. We can use phones to stay in touch, so I’m not owling.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was just going to be dying from paranoia having Hermione here with no fucking protection with that stupid loser Nott hatching whatever idiotic plan to get her back. Harry took a deep breath, already knowing he was going to give in. “Fine. You call me every day. I’m going to have to see about having one installed at Potters Peak. There’s not one there currently. As soon as I get it set up, I’ll send my patronus with the details. And I’m setting up blood wards —”
“I don’t really think we need to go that far—”
“On this property.” Harry finished with finality.
Hermione’s mouth tightened, but she knew she was asking a lot from Harry. Neither of them was quite yet comfortable with this reality, and now they were going to be on their own for a month. “Fine. But do you have a blood-replenishing potion?”
“My mother has some at home. I’ll take care of the wards, then go straight home and take one.”
Hermione looked beyond Harry to where Sirius and James Potter stood watching. “How are you going to explain your knowledge of warding to them?”
“I’m not.” Harry shrugged. “I’m telling them to leave first and that I’ll be there in a few minutes. Shouldn’t take me too long.”
Hermione paused, biting her lip. Harry’s calm expression didn’t fool her. He was pissed. She leaned up, pressing her lips against his before sliding her tongue along the firm line of his lips. Harry only clung to his stubbornness for a moment before his mouth parted and he was kissing her back, his tongue tangling with hers.
Harry leaned over, his hands wrapping around Hermione’s waist as he pulled her close, continuing to kiss her, trying to satisfy the ache that was going to be there as soon as he left. It would be fine, he tried to convince himself as they broke apart, both breathing harder. It would be fine. A month.
They’d still talk. He could transform and come to watch her. It had been years since they’d been apart for any significant amount of time, but — it would be fine.
Fuck.
This was going to suck so much.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” Harry responded, watching as she turned to go back inside. He waited until the door closed before he walked back to his dad and Sirius.
“She’s staying a bit to reassure her parents,” Harry told them shortly
James nodded cautiously. “It makes sense they’d be worried.” He paused, stepping close to Harry and laying his hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
His father’s touch felt strange despite its familiarity, and Harry had to restrain the impulse to shrug the hand off. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
His dad and Sirius both looked at him dubiously at the blatant lie.
“Okay. I’m not fine but I’m handling it. I’m going to help her out and put some warding up, and then I’ll come back home.”
“We’ll help—” James began, but Harry cut him off.
“No. I’ve got it. Please.” Harry stepped back, letting his father’s hand fall from his shoulder. “Just let me handle this and I’ll see you at home, okay?”
James and Sirius glanced at each other before agreeing. “Alright. We’ll see you at home, son.”
“See you in a minute, Haz.” Sirius nodded as both of them stepped backward, disapparating without a sound.
Harry waited for a minute to see if anyone would come back before raising his wand and casting disillusionment and notice me not charms on himself. Then he slashed his wand down his wrist, letting the first droplets of his blood fall as he started to walk around the property line locking the property down tight to keep Hermione safe.
Notes:
So I'm supposedly focusing on Remedy and Matched and yet I'm updating this one. There are no reasonable explanations. Although I'm again trying to tell myself to finish off Matched and Remedy so I can start a new WIP for the Harmony Fest! It would be weird if I promoted a fest and then didn't participate right?
If - and that's a big IF -- I get both Remedy and Matched completed and start publishing a new WIP which one would ya'll want to see the most? Soulmates? Hidden baby? Enemies to Lovers? Or another time travel?
༓ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ༓
Links:
Harmony Fest : Ao3 | Tumblr | Discord - Discord is 18+ Only and will have a specific Fest Chat
Harmony Reddit - find/share/discuss Harmony fanfics!
Chapter 9: Ginevra Weasley
Summary:
Karaoke and a drunken lion.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Other Life
Harry stood in front of an empty desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his little sister pace back and forth in front of him. Zinnia stopped occasionally, her arms flinging outward to punctuate a point before resuming her pacing. As much as they both took after their dad in looks, Zinnia, when she was in full rage, looked exactly like their mum. There was something about the pacing and wildly flailing angry octopus arms.
Ron was off to the left of Harry, his back against the wall, doing his best to stare at the ceiling and pretend he wasn’t watching Zinnia chew out Harry. Neville was seated behind Harry to his right, with a large herbology text in front of him that he was only pretending to look at. His head was lowered towards the text, but his eyes watched Zinnia closely as she paced back and forth.
“What were you thinking? You can’t just go and Hulk smash people because you lost your bloody temper!” Zinnia ran a stressed hand through her hair, yanking on a knot with a grimace. “You think nothing can touch you! You think — you think you just don’t have consequences! All your practical jokes with the twins — and them!” Zinnia pointed at Ron and Neville.
“I’ll have you know I rarely contribute to the joke plotting,” Ron muttered, still staring up at the ceiling.
Harry rocked back on his feet, his arms crossed stubbornly as he asked contemplatively. “How are you so small and yet so loud? Is that a trait of garden gnome babies? If there were a Triwizard competition that involved high-pitched noises you’d beat the Veelas. And for the record, I know there are consequences for my actions.” Harry shoved his hands into Zinnia’s path of pacing, showing his palms. “See these calluses? Hours spent pulling weeds for Sprout and polishing for Filch.”
Zinnia smacked his hands out of her path and continued her rant. She knew for a fact Harry’s calluses were due to his insane Quidditch practice schedule and games. “You’re joking, and you just almost got expelled! Do you know what they say about us?”
In a blink, Harry was closer to his sister, halting her pacing by grabbing her arm. “Who is saying what exactly?”
“Haz,” Neville warned quietly while the two siblings glared at each other.
“You want to talk about consequences? Fine.” Harry said not letting Zinnia go when she yanked on her arm. “McLaggen learned the consequences of opening his stupid mouth without thinking; it wasn’t even about you, Zinny, so stop being conceited.”
“Oh really?” Zinnia yanked her arm away. “Regardless you don’t get to just beat up other people because they said something that pisses you off—”
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about — what he said—”
“I can make a damn good guess! You’re not protecting me, you’re protecting your own stupid pride! You think I haven’t dealt with comments?”
“Who?” Harry snarled out switching gears from messing with his sister to being pissed off in the blink of an eye. Who the fuck was saying something to his sister— “Is it one of those Slytherins? Nott? Malfoy?”
“What, so you can go beat them up too and actually get expelled? I can take care of myself and when they do piss me off I’ll handle it MY WAY!”
Harry wasn’t about to be deterred now. “Who is saying things to you?”
“It’s none of your business! Stay out of my life!” Zinnia practically roared in response, her hands clenched as she displayed her own Potter temper.
Harry was quiet for a moment, staring at her. “Fine.”
Zinnia was caught off guard by his sudden capitulation, her breathing elevated from the confrontation. The idea of Harry getting kicked out of Hogwarts because he was trying to protect her was going to drive her crazy. Mostly because she knew there was absolutely nothing she could say that would make him stop once he decided on a course of action. “What?”
“Fine,” Harry repeated.
“You’re going to stop?” Zinnia meant to say it as a statement, but her voice tilted up at the end, making it a question.
“I’m going to have a chat with Daphne Greengrass or Caroline Selwyn and see what they can tell me about what people are saying in Slytherin.”
“Argh! You’re impossible!” Zinnia smacked the side of his shoulder several times while Harry held out his hands to block her.
“Stop that! I’m going to have Mum give you back to the garden gnomes! Your true nature is coming out again! Ow! Oi, weren’t we just talking about not hitting people when we get angry? I’m sure Mum will be interested to know you’re hitting me.” Harry said in a playfully suffering voice, his temper calmed by seeing Zinnia’s temper worsen.
With a barely intelligible scream of, “Stop saying I’m a garden gnome baby!” Zinnia turned and stormed from the classroom, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled.
Harry looked around innocently. “Do you think it was something I said? You’d think she’d be happier, I’m going to date someone other than Chrissy. Ron remind me to owl my mum that Zinnia is hitting me.”
“Selwyn would probably be a better bet to talk to than Greengrass. Daphne is too self-involved to notice much outside her circle– which doesn’t include Zinny.” Neville offered ignoring Harry’s joke.
Harry gave a shiver and said with relief. “Oh, that makes sense. I mean I’d have flirted with Greengrass but bloody hell, doesn’t she look like Malfoy?”
Ron, though was staring at the door Zinnia had slammed. “You should have been nicer to her, Haz. She’s just worried about you.”
“Look I don’t get to tell her what to do — she doesn’t get to tell me what to do. As if she hasn’t pulled several pranks with the map Dad gave her.”
“It only counts if you’re caught,” Neville said, quoting the twins.
Ron frowned, his expression unusually serious. “You should have just been honest with her; she would have understood if you told her what McLaggen said.”
“Look, Ron, you don’t understand how to deal with little sisters; less information is always best.”
The "Fixed" Timeline
Harry stumbled into a large, dim room that smelled strongly of herbs and other more unpleasant smells. Ingredients spanning from innocuous daisies to red-colored vials of various animal parts lined the shelves on the west wall. The wall to the east, however, was lined with prepared potions under stasis charms, and Harry walked towards those.
“No, no, no.” He muttered, reading the labels for calming draught, headache potions, sober-up potions. After a minute, he snatched a dark red blood-replenishing potion, popping the cork and dismissing the charm before drinking it in two gulps. He shuddered as he felt it rushing through him like ice running along his veins. “Ugh.”
“I always hated that one too, but then I’ve always disliked being cold.” James Potter said calmly from where he sat, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees in a large brown upholstered chair.
Harry didn’t react to the statement and instead turned and placed the vial on the desk nearby before facing his father. James Potter watched him closely, his hazel eyes dark with concern and questions.
Finally, James broke the silence again, pleading quietly. “Tell me what’s going on, son. Let me help you.”
Harry wrestled with the almost irresistible impulse to spill the entire tale. His dad had always come through for him and helped him when he needed it. James would help Harry straighten things out with the Grangers and get Hermione back. Harry opened his mouth before pausing and closing it again.
No that wasn’t right.
He didn’t have a father. Hadn’t had a father? Harry shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts straight, and ignored the way his emotions twisted into knots.
James sighed, seeing the stubbornness across the face so similar to his own. “Will you at least tell me who taught you that spell? It’s an auror-grade disarming charm. I didn’t realize you were interested in those kinds of spells.”
Harry couldn’t prevent a laugh from escaping, and James raised his eyebrows, inviting him to share the joke. “I wouldn’t call it interest.”
“What would you call it?”
Harry sucked in a deep breath letting it out slowly as he looked away from James’ eyes. It was harder to resist blurting everything out when he looked at James. “I need— I —” James leaned forward in anticipation but Harry shook his head before starting again. “When I have Hermione with me again, we’ll come back to this discussion, but not right now.”
The silence was weighty before James broke it with a soft exhale, sagging briefly. “Okay. I’ll be waiting, Haz.” Then he got up with a smooth motion, gesturing toward the door of the potions room. “In the meantime, we’re overdue for your party.”
Harry restrained a groan at the thought of going to a party after everything that happened. This was going to suck.
The first person they ran into was Ron, who was walking along, peering into rooms as he passed. When he spotted Harry, he ran forward, grabbing Harry’s arm, “Haz. We need to talk. Sorry, Mr. Potter.”
“It’s alright,” James replied as he watched one of his son’s best friends drag him off. “Maybe you can get some answers out of him.” He muttered quietly, stalking off to find Lily to give her an update on what Harry had been up to.
Ron dragged Harry into a small, empty sitting room, slamming the door and spinning around to face him. “What is going on? You fucking left me passed out at my mums' front door? AND THEN WENT AND GOT FUCKING MARRIED WITHOUT TELLING ME?”
Harry stared at Ron a moment, then punched him in the arm. “Don’t screech in my face, mate. Merlin, you’re going to make me deaf.”
“Ow, you git!” Ron rubbed his arm, his face closely matching the color of his hair. “Where’s your wife? The Ravenclaw prefect, right?”
The image of Hermione in Ravenclaw blue with a shiny prefect badge popped into Harry’s mind. “They told you?”
Ron shrugged. “I figured it would be her.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Ron asked smugly, his earlier anger fading as quickly as it came on.
“But, why? Were we— Did I—?” Harry stopped, not even sure what he wanted to ask him. There was nothing in his other memories of good interactions with Hermione, but plenty of bad ones.
Ron gave him a half smile. “I'm not completely oblivious, you know? She’s the only girl that you tried to pretend didn’t exist. Figures, when your resistance broke, you’d go mental. I do think you went about this in a shit way, I mean the way you threatened Zinny was pretty fucked, Haz. If you had told me you planned to pretend to be crazy so you could go marry your secret crush, I would have helped you.”
Harry stared at Ron, completely at a loss for how to respond to the stupid explanation he had come up with for what happened last night. Ron seemed utterly unfazed by the whole situation as he stood there staring back at Harry, still with that half smile. Harry couldn’t stop himself from prodding Ron to see if he would realize how ludicrous his acceptance of Harry’s actions was and start to dig for more answers. “She was with Nott, though, I never talked to her. I never even talked about her with you.”
Ron grimaced. “Fuck Nott. I hope he cries like a baby that she left him for you.”
“Why aren’t you mad?”
“Oh you want to talk about what I’m mad about, yeah okay then what the fuck leaving me—” Ron’s voice started rising rapidly.
“No, I mean about me marrying!” Harry cut in quickly as the red raced back into Ron’s cheeks. He’d forgotten how quick to rage Ron had been as a teen.
Ron paused, deflating as he breathed out and looked at Harry with clear blue eyes. “Well, I’m kind of hurt you didn’t fucking invite me. I’m your best mate.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. “I’m so confused.”
Ron reached out, clasping a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Do I think you had the stupidest strategy ever for getting the girl you want? Yeah, kind of. Everyone is going to be demanding answers and watching you closer than a vial of liquid luck. But I’m not everyone. I’m your best mate. My role in this is to encourage and support all the crazy shit you do— except for that shit with Zinnia. I told you about being nicer to her, idiot.” Ron reached out and cuffed Harry on the back of the head in reprimand. Harry was so stunned by Ron’s support that he didn’t even try to stop him.
“We’re okay then?” Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down. Emotions were making his throat feel tight, and his chest ached a bit from the warm feeling Ron’s support gave him.
“You’re acting so weird. No wonder everyone is worried about you. Is it because you finally got to shag her?”
And just like that, the warm feeling was gone. Harry pointed his finger at Ron threateningly. “Don’t talk about shagging and my wife in the same sentence!”
“Oh, it’s because you didn’t get to shag her.” Ron nodded sagely before emitting a high-pitched scream when Harry’s wand whipped out, and he fled the room with a bang as the door slammed into the wall.
“Well, at least that’s normal,” James observed to Sirius as they watched Ron dash out, followed by Harry flinging stinging jinxes.
“Did you start the cleansing draughts yet?”
“When would I have had the chance? Lily already has them prepared, though, with some type of tamper-proof charm on them."
“Of course she does.”
“She’s worried.” James admonished quietly, hearing something in Sirius’ tone he didn’t like.
“She needs to be careful.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sirius stood quietly for a minute, trying to put the words together. “I don’t know what’s going on with Harry. Why did he run out that way, or why did he get married? But I do know that look on his face when he watches his wife. It’s the same expression you make when you stare at Lily. And I have enough experience with occlumency to suspect that Harry is hiding quite a few things from us.”
Sirius looked at James gravely. “Harry obviously doesn't trust our reaction to whatever secret he is hiding. And I know Lily is worried about him but the way she's doing it is by setting herself up in opposition to him — to his marriage— and that’s not going to turn out well.”
“She’s not—”
“She is, James. If you’d had to pick between your mum and your wife, who would you have chosen?”
“That’s not going to happen here— that’s not at all what’s going on.”
Sirius shrugged. “You’d better hope not.”
“Fuck.” James ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I just wish he had told me earlier what was going on. I thought for a minute he was going to trust me, but then he pulled back. He said we’d revisit it when he was with his wife.”
“That’s only a month from what happened with his in-laws. We should back off and give Haz some breathing space, he’s with us, and we've got to be patient.”
James shook his head, his hand coming up to rub at his sternum. “I just feel like he’s in trouble. These spells he's using — the knowledge like casting a bloodward, Pads? Like what the fuck is that?”
“He could have read how.”
“Harry’s like me— he doesn’t mess with that stuff. If anything, he’s less interested than even I was with some of the older magics.”
Sirius shrugged. “Or he was more secretive than we thought. We hid loads of stuff from our parents at his age.”
“Ha! Now there is surely a thought to worry Lily.”
Sirius grinned and clapped James on the back bracingly. “Let’s go get some drinks before all the guests get the good stuff.”
Harry tried his best to blend into the crowd and not draw attention, which was a failing endeavor when one was the entire reason for the party. Despite his best efforts to stay far away from the large outdoor karaoke stage, he found himself dragged up to sing. Ron was right next to Harry with a mic in hand, his cheeks red from fire whiskey as they both practically screamed the lyrics to the Queen song strumming through the speakers. The crowd of their friends and family was absolutely wild, and any passerby might have mistaken it for a concert with the volume and multitude of people.
We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you
Everyone’s eyes were on him, and he should have hated it. Every time he had been the center of attention growing up, it had been the absolute worst. The stupid gawkers and whispers every time his past was revealed. The screaming invectives that he was a liar and a fraud every single time he tried to warn the magical community about Voldemort. Crowds and malicious attention that came with them sucked.
He'd always wanted to be just Harry. A regular wizard with no prophecy attached to his name and with a family who loved him.
We will, we will rock you, sing it
We will, we will rock you, everybody
Ron grabbed his hand, not holding the mic, and raised it into the air, and the crowd screamed even louder. Harry spotted Neville standing near his parents, smiling. Frank and Alice Longbottom were older than they had been in the picture of the order Harry had seen them in. They'd gotten to live and raise their son. Neville was so much happier from the other memories. In the far back of the crowd stood Fred, George and Bill who had their glasses raised as they sang along. Fred and George paused and took a drink at the same time in perfect synchronicity, neither even looking at the other as they did it. In the very front of the stage, with big smiles, stood his dad, mum, Sirius, and Remus. The connection he felt to his parents and family was so visceral in that moment that he could practically taste their happiness, like sweetness on his tongue, as he sang next to Ron. Zinnia was to their left, her hands in the air, screaming the lyrics with him. Friends he had made through his other life were everywhere, laughing and grinning as they sang along.
Seeing all of them happy and alive felt so fucking good.
Everybody loves me. The thought whispered to him from somewhere beyond his occlumency shield keeping his other life separate.
Yeah, they did love him, didn’t they? The adoration of the crowd pulsed like magic in the air, reaching for Harry and sinking into his skin, changing him and pushing his mood higher and higher like a drug.
He was grinning so widely that his mouth hurt when they finally stumbled off the stage. Sirius called for the mic, and Harry tossed it to him deftly. Sirius caught with a laugh and headed up to the stage with a cheeky grin, ignoring James and Remus' catcalls. Harry and Ron went back to their table and practically flung themselves into the chairs, which rocked back, making them both laugh.
Ron smirked at him. “See, I don’t even know why you tried to avoid it, you love doing karaoke on your birthday.”
“Shut up,” Harry said with a smile, reaching for his fire whiskey that he’d been nursing slowly while Ron threw his back with relish.
Harry scanned the crowd as Sirius’ deep voice rolled from the speakers, picking out people he knew and pulling names from his other memories for those he didn’t. Zinny had moved closer to the stage, and her friend Astoria Greengrass was next to her, staring a little too intently at Sirius singing.
Harry scanned more people for a minute before turning to Ron. “Hey?”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s Ginny?”
“Who?”
The Other Life
“Look Ron you don’t understand how to deal with little sisters, less information is always best.”
Ron flinched at the glib reply and Harry immediately felt like shit. “Hey mate, I didn’t mean—”
“No. It’s fine.” Ron turned around, heading toward the door. “You’re right.”
“No, Ron, wait!” Harry grabbed him, pulling him to a halt. “That was an arsehole thing to say, and I’m sorry.”
Ron shrugged, still not looking at him.
“You probably would have been a better big brother than me.”
“Nah. I always make girls mad. If—it had been different, Ginevra probably would have hexed me all the time.”
Harry threw his arm around Ron’s shoulders, and Neville had gotten up from his desk without either of them noticing, and he interjected lightly. “Probably just as much as Zinny tries to hex Harry.”
Ron swallowed, shoving away the pang of loss that had gripped him unexpectedly at Harry’s words. He wouldn’t admit to Harry the jealousy he had sometimes when he watched the two fight as if he had missed something he never had that he had never known.
Ron had only been a baby when the tragedy had struck his family, but he’d often stared at the two tombstones left behind and wondered what might have been.
The "Fixed" Timeline
In her dark bedroom, Hermione’s eyes snapped open at the sound of a familiar low rumble. After a second of disbelief, she bolted upright when she heard it again.
He wouldn’t.
She jumped off her bed and dashed to the window, shoving aside the curtain and peering onto the lawn. And there in the center of her parents’ front yard was a large lion. Its mouth opened as she watched it show off large, sharp incisors while another rumbling yowl echoed through the neighborhood like an enormous cat was whining for its owner.
He bloody would!
Oh.
My.
God!
She grabbed the windowsill and slammed it up so hard the glass rattled in its frame as she stuck her head out to whisper yell, trying to keep from waking up her parents, “Harry, what do you think you’re doing!”
The lion crouched down low on the ground, crawling slowly forward as it stared up at her and yowled again like an overgrown cat.
“Bloody hell,” Hermione muttered, snatching her wand from her bedside table and running toward her door to cast a quick silencing spell in the direction of her parents' room before turning toward the staircase. Her feet thudded down the stairs as she rushed to her front door and flung it open.
“Get in here right now!” She stood by the door, pointing in with a fierce glare at the lion who crept closer, its big head hanging low contritely. “What is wrong with you? I told you—”
The lion yowled again, interrupting her.
“Harry, change back this instant!” Hermione demanded, stomping her foot impatiently.
The lion turned in a circle, paused, then turned in a circle faster, looking like it was chasing its own tail before it lost its balance and flopped onto the floor with a loud thud. It lay there for a minute, shaking its enormous head before getting to its feet again to start turning in circles once more. A strangely familiar smell wafted from the lion, and Hermione’s nose twitched as she stepped cautiously closer, sniffing as the lion spun in circles.
She gasped. “Are you bloody drunk!”
The lion tried to shake its head at her while the rest of its body kept spinning, and magic burst as it crashed against the wall. In a blink, Harry was suddenly there, bracing himself on the wall as a picture that had been hanging crashed down. “Hermione—” he reached for her, pulling her close. “I wanted — I missed —I need you.” He finished pulling her closer so their bodies were pressed against each other.
“Why are you drunk?”
“Dumb,” Harry muttered into the curve of her neck. She smelled so good. He pressed his lips against her skin, his tongue darting out to lick her. “Don’t make me leave.”
Hermione stood there, half-bracing Harry as he leaned a bit too hard against her with his face buried in the curve of her neck, his hands grasping desperately at her hips to keep her close. Harry wasn’t the type to lose control like this, and she wondered what had provoked it. His breath was too quick and shaky against her skin, and there was a vibration to him that spoke of his need for comfort.
She slid her hands around him, finding the edge of his shirt and reaching under it, sliding up the bare skin of his back, and he shuddered, letting out a quiet moan as he huddled against her. He hadn’t stopped whispering things into her skin.
I love you. You’re so beautiful. Don’t make me leave. I need you.
“Let’s go to bed, Harry.” She said finally. She’d just have to sneak him out before her parents woke. Harry needed her, and she’d never turn him away.
“Together?”
“Yes.” Hermione tried to step back and almost stumbled again when he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, love. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Stairs,” Harry muttered, in the same tone of voice he’d say Voldemort.
Making it up the stairs with her husband, who was much taller and heavier than he used to be, was quite difficult, but they persevered with only some minor stumbling. Hermione kicked her door open from where it had partially closed when she ran out earlier.
“Why is our bed so small?” Harry sounded drunkenly outraged.
“Shh. I’m going to fix it.”
“Fix it biggerer. Fix it biggest.” Harry said, pressing kisses against her shoulder.
With a quickly muttered enlargement charm, the bed stretched out almost filling her entire room, and Harry let out a sigh of satisfaction. When they neared the edge of the bed, he tried to sit but ended up collapsing, sprawled out on the large bed. It was at that point that Hermione noticed he was missing his shoes and his feet were filthy.
Muttering under her breath, she cleaned him up and then worked on getting him comfortable, tugging off his jeans and shirt and leaving him in his boxers. When she went to put the clothes on the nearby desk, Harry’s hand snapped out, catching her wrist. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be back in a second, I just need to put this away.”
“No.”
“Harry–”
“Evanesco!” Harry cast the vanishing charm at his folded clothes with stunning accuracy and speed while drunk. “There it’s gone.”
Hermione sighed in aggravation and took his wand away. “You are going to regret vanishing your clothes tomorrow.”
She shoved both their wands under their pillows and climbed into bed with him, cuddling close. Harry wrapped his arms around her with a sigh of satisfaction. “I needed you.”
Hermione closed her eyes, her lips curving up in a small smile. “I figured that out.”
“You’re brilliant, you know?”
“Mmm.”
After that, Harry was quiet, his hands still tight around her. Hermione was just about to fall asleep when he spoke again, much more softly.
“Did we do the right thing, Hermione?”
The quiet devastation in his question woke her completely and made her look up at him sharply. Harry’s green eyes glittered at her in the semidarkness.
When they had made the decision in the wake of the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had been so sure they were doing the right thing. But the shock of waking up in this timeline had shaken that certainty from her. She wasn’t sure anymore about anything.
But for Harry, she buried all those doubts deep, deep inside and instead let her love for him drive the conviction in her answer. “We did the right thing.” She said with unshakable certainty.
Harry stared at her, searching for those doubts for long moments before his eyes squeezed closed. He turned away from that subject and instead confessed, “I wanted to do what you asked, but I don’t think I can stay away, Hermione.”
Hermione bit her lip, stroking the side of his face gently. “We’ll figure it out in the morning, okay? Go to sleep now, love.”
“Love you,” Harry murmured as his face finally relaxed into sleep, his arms locked around his wife.
Notes:
The Harmony Summertime Madness Fest is in full swing and claiming/posting is open and the first work has been posted! Works aren't due until July so if you want to participate or just check out what's been posted plenty of time to stay up to date!
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Chapter 10: 30 Days
Summary:
Wonder what's going to happen saturday? :D
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hermione woke up slowly, feeling warm and safe. There was a vibrating, familiar weight on her back. Crookshanks must have climbed on when she was asleep and was purring contentedly. She opened her eyes to see her husband staring fixedly at a point beyond her shoulder. His green eyes gleamed in the dim morning light that streamed through her window.
“What are you doing?” Hermione whispered to him, not moving.
Harry’s gaze didn’t waver, and he slowly raised his finger to his lips to signal silence. Hermione made a soundless huff and snuggled deeper into her pillow. After another minute or so, she realized that Harry was staring unblinkingly at Crookshanks, who had started purring more loudly, almost in a taunting manner, on her back.
As the minutes stretched with no further movement from Harry or Crookshanks, Hermione shifted her leg, moving her foot towards Harry and poking him with the tip of her toe.
“Ah!” Harry gave a twitch in startlement at the touch and blinked. “Damn! Your toes are like little ice cubes. How does that even happen?”
Hermione smirked, turning and dislodging Crookshanks, who gave an annoyed meow. “I need something warm then…” She said, leadingly, before placing her feet higher on Harry’s thighs.
With another shocked exclamation, Harry adjusted her feet so they were trapped between his thighs instead of resting against them. “I told you to be quiet.” He said with a bit of a whine in his voice.
“I was quiet. What were you doing anyway, staring like that?”
“Nothing.” He said, stroking her leg.
Hermione watched Harry fidget, not meeting her eyes as he readjusted her feet again to warm them up. “Were you trying to have a staring contest with Crookshanks?”
He gave her a disgruntled look and didn’t answer. Crookshanks, hearing his name, gave a satisfied mew as if he had been listening and jumped between them on the bed. The orange cat then went and rubbed along Harry, nuzzling his chin.
The corners of Harry’s mouth curled up as he petted the half-kneazle, “I’ll win next time.” He advised the gloating feline. Crookshanks' responding meow was quite doubtful and sarcastic.
“How was your birthday party, love?” Hermione asked Harry softly when he didn’t say anything more. He gave her a stubborn look before going back to petting Crookshanks. She understood that look, even if she didn’t like it. Harry didn’t want to talk about his party and whatever had prompted him to show up drunk in front of her house the night before.
Hermione worried the bottom of her lip. She couldn’t deny she had slept better once Harry was next to her, but it would have been disastrous if someone had spotted a lion on her parents’ front lawn.
She was still trying to decide what to say about the situation when Harry sighed and flopped over on his back. He stretched out a hand toward her, sliding it along the edge of her shirt before slipping underneath to rest against her warm skin. “I’m sorry.”
Hermione made a soothing sound, scooting closer to him to lay her head on his shoulder. Crookshanks gave them both a glare as his spot between them disappeared, and he stepped on them as he made his way toward their feet.
When Hermione didn’t press for answers as she always did, Harry waited until he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Well? Aren’t you going to lecture me?”
“Bad Harry. Bad bad Harry.”
Harry scoffed, but his lips tilted upward, and he leaned down to press a kiss on top of her head. “We could just create a portkey— “
“That’s illegal.”
“Who’s going to catch us?”
Hemione sighed and tilted her head to look up at him. “We’re already in a bit of a mess here, trying to figure things out. I don’t think we should break the law and risk making our situation worse.”
Harry’s lips tightened, and he looked away from her. “I— “ He inhaled sharply and cut himself off.
“What?”
“I want you with me.” He admitted looking back at her. “I shouldn’t have agreed to you staying here yesterday, it’s stupid.”
“It’s August first already. That means only thirty more days. That’s it. Then we’re off to Hogwarts together. And we still have to go to Diagon Alley and get supplies for the school year.”
Harry pulled away from Hermione, frustrated as he sat up facing away from her. “I don’t care. I don’t care if my parents think you’ve potioned me. I don’t care if your parents hate me. I don’t care about whoever else thinks they have any right to say something about our relationship or what we do.” His voice was low and sharp, his leg bouncing in agitation.
Hermione got up and went to him, hugging him tightly from behind. Harry’s muscles were tense as he leaned slightly away from her, silently telling her he wasn’t going to be persuaded. “I think you do care what your parents think.”
“I don’t. I don’t know them. They’re strangers.” Harry gestured to himself with a sneer. “They knew the Harry that grew up looking like this . Not me.”
Hermione’s chest burned with the repressed emotion she could feel vibrating under Harry’s words. She tightened her arms around him. “Harry.”
“Hermione— “ He broke off as a large brown owl scratched at her window.
“Who would be owling me?” Hermione murmured, sitting up and climbing off the bed to open the window. The owl flapped in, dropping a package off on the desk, and then immediately took off, not waiting for a treat. Hermione picked up the package, her eyebrows climbing.
“Who is it from?” Harry asked as he got up to approach her desk and the package.
“It appears your mother doesn’t need a Marauder’s Map to find you,” Hermione told him, handing him the package and letter with his name on it, before opening her own. It was the cleansing draught.
Harry scoffed and threw down the letter before picking up the vial. Hermione picked it up to read it.
Harry,
Here’s the first dose. I trust you to take this appropriately. I love you.
Mum
Hermione picked up her vial, and they toasted each other before tipping them back. It tasted lemony and a bit too bitter, but not nearly as sour as some other potions Hermione had taken. With a sigh, Hermione placed the vial down before turning back to her husband.
“I know you don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. But I think it’s important for both of us to make sure we maintain our relationship with our parents.”
Harry’s jaw tightened at her words, and she could tell by the way he pressed his lips together that he was refraining from saying something she wouldn’t like.
“Just say it.” She prodded him.
Harry shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Look, this is going to be hard enough without us hiding our feelings from each other. Just tell me, okay?”
“Fine.” Harry’s shoulders tensed. “These aren’t the parents you left behind. They aren’t the parents you obliviated. You don’t owe them anything, and you don’t know them, Hermione. We don’t know how much has changed with what we did.”
Hermione flinched when he mentioned obliviation, her eyes watering as she blinked. “I know that.” She said in a tight voice.
“Hermione,” Harry turned and pulled her into his arms, already regretful even though he believed the truth of his words.
Hermione let him comfort her, resting her cheek against his chest as Harry rocked her subtly back and forth. “I know they’re not the same as they were. But they’re still them, and I want to have a good relationship with them, Harry.”
A part of Harry wanted to rage and argue with her about it, but he sucked in a breath pushing it away, and cuddled Hermione instead. Hermione wanted to make her parents happy, and even though it was making his stomach burn, he was going to give in to her. He loved her more than enough to deal with it.
“Fine,” Harry muttered into her hair, inhaling her faint vanilla scent. Some physical attributes had changed in this time for both of them. But thank fuck Hermione smelled the same. Her magic felt the same. The warm press of her body against his gave Harry the comfort he needed.
Hermione ran her hands up his back, along his spine in a soothing motion. “We’ll meet up at least once a week, okay? And I’ll owl you every day.”
“Every day.”
She nodded and pulled away gently, looking around her room. “We need to get you out. I’m surprised my parents aren’t up already.”
Harry looked down at his bare chest. “Am I misremembering, or did I vanish my clothes last night?”
“That you did. And you didn’t even show up with shoes.”
“Ah.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So could I perhaps transfigure some of your clothes?”
“I’ve got a nice strawberry pajama set with your name on it.”
Harry grinned at her. “Sweet.”
“Dork.” They laughed as Hermione went to a drawer and pulled out a strawberry-patterned pajama set.
Harry fingered the set before grabbing his wand from the bed to transfigure it into a respectable solid red shorts and shirt. “Your other life’s memories aren’t bothering you?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, not like that first night. I just…”
“You just what?” Harry asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.
“I can’t explain it. I feel like I’m missing something important.”
Harry came close again, wrapping his arms around her. “Maybe you’re missing sleeping in my bed.”
She pushed him away, looking at his bare feet. “Why are you always without shoes now?”
Harry didn’t push the topic, stepping back. “Well, I’ll only be going a bit down the pavement, I should be fine until I can apparate back to my parent’s house.”
“Okay.” But Hermione didn’t move, and neither did he. Hermione nibbled on her lip. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Okay.”
“We’re both—we just—“ Hermione started, still not moving.
Harry reached for her hand, laying her palm flat against his, and lightly traced the runes the marriage tree had left behind. “Thirty days, right?”
“Thirty days.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, resisting the urge to deepen the kiss. “I’ll be counting the seconds.”
Meeting his clear, confident gaze, warmth rushed through Hermione. Everything was going to be fine, as long as she had Harry. “Me too.”
Mrrow . Crookshanks meow sounded quite sarcastic. He was done with his human's maudlin display of affection especially when it excluded him.
Harry huffed like the sound of his lion form as he turned unerringly to where Crookshanks was lying out high on a bookshelf. “Shush.”
Hermione smiled and finally pulled him from her room. They made it downstairs just in the nick of time as they both heard movement upstairs when they were at the front door. Harry gave her another quick kiss before ducking out the door with a muttered disillusionment charm.
When the door shut, Hermione’s smile dropped off her face, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. She wanted to make her parents happy, but the impulse to call Harry back and change her mind was so strong that it made her stomach twist.
Hermione closed her eyes, leaning against the door and willing the sensation away, but it just grew stronger, and chills spread across her skin. She dashed upstairs not even saying hello to her mother who was just coming down. She headed straight for the toilet and proceeded to be violently sick. By the time she was finished, she felt wrung out and collapsed back onto the floor with a groan.
Mrrrow? Crookshanks nuzzled her comfortingly with a questioning meow.
“I’m fine,” Hermione assured the cat petting him.
Mrrrrrorrrw.
“There’s no reason to call Harry back for this, I’m just feeling under the weather.” Hermione ignored the look of disagreement Crookshanks gave her. She just needed to eat —
Her stomach twisted at the thought of food, and she hastily corrected that train of thought to needing to lie down a bit more. It was fine. Everything was fine.
Thirty days.
It was fine.
Harry lay at the base of the Marrying Tree, a letter that arrived that morning from Hermione clutched in his hand. He was going to see her that weekend, but uneasiness still plagued him. He hadn’t been apart from Hermione in years and he didn’t like it at all. A breeze brushed softly by him, and he imagined he could almost feel the magic in the land trying to soothe him.
The branches of the Marrying Tree creaked almost inaudibly above him, the sunlight dappled his face through the shade it provided. The tree wasn’t talking to him anymore. Almost as if it had accomplished what it wanted and had gone dormant. Harry felt put out by that. He wondered if, now with his knowledge of both timelines, he had just asked the tree the right question, if it might have told him something worthwhile.
His lips turned down in a frown as he pushed the thought away. By now he should be used to going about with no information but it was still aggravating. To his side, a book on the first wizarding war lay open on the grass, the pages fluttering in the breeze. Trying to parse through the book and his other life’s memories was a tough slog, they had changed so much.
Sirius was a few meters away from Harry in his animagus form, rolled on his back, his tongue lolling out as he watched Harry with big dog eyes. Harry could feel the press of his concern through his magic. It was an echo of magic he felt from the land. His family’s land. Harry turned to face Sirius, studying him.
When Harry had been thirteen and an emaciated, dirty Sirius had tentatively told Harry that he was welcome to stay with him at Grimmauld, Harry’s heart had leapt at the chance. Many would have wondered at his faith in the man who he had thought killed his parents not much earlier.
But Harry had thought fancifully at the time that he could feel Sirius’ sincerity and the care the man had for him. That feeling had driven him to make some stupid decisions, not two years later, wanting to protect Sirius. Now with a new set of memories of growing up with his family, Harry recognized the feeling of the magical bonds that existed between the members of his family and Sirius as his godfather.
The bonds weren’t the intensity of what he had with Hermione, but he was pretty confident that if any of his family members were in trouble or needed him, he would feel it. He hadn’t yet broached the subject with Hermione, as she was busily reviewing the legal texts from the Potter library while he was obsessing over the changes that they had wrought in this timeline by reading books on the first wizarding war.
“I’m not going to run off or anything, you know. You don’t have to watch me.” He spoke to Sirius finally. Sirius didn’t reply, merely panted at him while staring back upside down.
The sky darkened suddenly as clouds moved in, and the next breeze that brushed by was a bit chillier. Good, he thought, hoping it would rain. That would suit his mood more than this glorious summer day. He missed both Hermione and Ron. And even though he could visit Ron, it wasn’t the same, as Ron now had no memory of everything they had been through together.
Although considering the changes they had wrought might be a mercy to Ron, despite Hermione’s caution the other morning that they should be blunt with each other, Harry still hadn’t told her of his discovery regarding Ginny in this timeline. Would the outcome have been different if they had contacted the people they knew? Hermione’s paranoia they would prevent themselves from being born had resulted in strict no-contact rules with anyone they had known. They had worked as an independent group, eliminating threats and saving as many lives as possible.
Thinking back on their strategy, though, the foundation of their thinking had been quite stupid. What was the point of minimizing changes when the entire reason they went back was to change everything? Not that he would ever say that to Hermione as she had had frequent bouts of anxiety that they would cause some type of catastrophic paradox that would end the world.
Harry could admit now, with several years of hindsight, that a large reason he had agreed to Hermione’s plan had been a pathetic fear of his parents and Sirius not liking him. At that point in his life, he had built up his parents and Sirius into something larger than life. They were these amazingly perfect heroes who would never have fucked up as badly as Harry had by letting Voldemort escape. Heroes who would have saved more people, who would have been better in the fight had they lived.
Harry sighed, his hand twitching up, and the letter caught flame, turning to ashes that slowly floated away. Sirius made a slight whining noise near him and crept a little closer. “Were you going to try to read her letter? Too bad.” Harry murmured, holding out his hand. When he felt Sirius’ rough fur under his hand, he petted him, scratching behind his ears.
“I’m going to see Hermione on Saturday. I don’t want you or anyone else following me.” Harry told him firmly.
Sirius pulled away, twisting as he changed back, appearing in a snap of magic with his legs folded next to Harry. He rested his elbows on his knees as he contemplated his godson. “We’re worried about you. Just tell us what’s wrong, and we’ll help you.”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me,” Sirius advised his focus absolute.
Harry turned away from the intense silver stare and rubbed his forehead where his lightning scar used to be. A breeze ruffled the pages of the book next to him, and Harry saw the chapter on Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had mysteriously disappeared just a few weeks after Voldemort in this timeline, and no one had seen or heard from him in years.
So many changes.
Each new revelation made Harry more uneasy; he and Hermione were in a world they didn’t know. The people here had familiar faces, but weren’t the same. Harry turned back to Sirius, who was older than the Sirius he had known and yet looked so much younger. This Sirius’ hair was completely black, thick and healthy, and his skin, although pale, didn’t have the thin papery quality of the Sirius in Harry’s time. Ten years in Azkaban had aged him more than Harry had realized.
“Not yet,” Harry told him, and he could see Sirius understood. Not yet. But he would. The bond he felt with Sirius, with his family meant that he couldn’t keep something this large to himself forever. But he needed Hermione with him. They had to be sure it was the right time.
If his family couldn’t accept the fact that he wasn’t the same as the boy who existed before his seventeenth birthday, then he and Hermione needed to be able to survive on their own. They couldn’t do that at this point; they weren’t quite familiar enough with this world to do that yet. But soon.
A slow smile spread across Sirius’s face, revealing white teeth and incisors that were a bit too pointed. “You could always tell me first, and I’ll keep it a secret. Even from Moony.”
Harry gave a small laugh as small rain droplets started to pelt them, and he turned away to cast a protective charm on the book. His mother would be pissed if something happened to it. “Even from Moony? Liar.”
Sirius reached out, grabbing his forearm to pull his attention back to him. The droplets had landed on his cheek and he hadn’t brushed them away. “Even Moony.” There was a fervency in the words, a message that Harry heard clearly even without the bond between them.
Harry placed his hand over Sirius’ and met his eyes squarely. “Before this year ends, I’ll tell you everything.”
Sirius wanted to press him, but left it at that, turning to face the house. “We should go in.”
Harry got up, grabbed his book, and looked up at the sky, which had darkened rapidly. The small droplets were coming faster and heavier. With a flick of his wand, he locked Sirius’s legs together and shouted back. “Race you to the house!”
“Cheater!” Sirius howled before Harry heard the thud of four paws behind him and laughed. He wasn’t his Sirius, but Harry loved him just as much anyway.
Notes:
Sigh.
We won't venture into TMI territory but life has been very lifey lately. Don't people know I just want to play around and read and write fanfics? How dare they interfere. I have a few chapters that need editing before I can publish so hopefully I can get that done. I won't make any promises on time tables though-- when that changes you'll be the first to know. 😅
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Chapter 11: Teenage Pregnancy
Summary:
Nightmare and a compulsion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry was at his favorite place on the estate again, under the large tree that had helped him marry Hermione only a few days ago. Time was dragging by until he could see her, and it was paining him to be without her.
“C’mon, Haz, we can go to the Burrow and play some Quidditch with my brothers,” Ron whined, impatient at his sulking friend. Being in love apparently turned one into a depressed mushroom. Harry didn’t even respond to him and flopped over on the ground.
Neville grimaced, speaking to Ron. “Since he married, he shouldn’t have separated from her for such a long time before the marriage bond settled.”
“Tell that to my wife,” Harry muttered into the dirt at the root of the tree.
“We should — in fact, she’s probably feeling some of that too,” Neville stated. “When are you seeing her again?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Well, at least it wasn’t for too long.”
Harry groaned in response, rolling over on the ground again. He just had to convince his stubborn wife that being separated for a month was stupid. Even after they met tomorrow there would be three long weeks apart. He was suffering .
“You’re acting like Bill did during that trip to France,” Ron advised Harry. “Remember how much we made fun of him? You’re going to be a stage five clinger mate.”
Neville, who had only heard the tales of Ron’s older brother Bill’s behavior, when he met his now wife, scoffed. “She’s a veela, I’m sure that had something to do with how Bill acted. Oh wow, remember your mum was really suspicious of Fleur too— just like Harry’s mum and Hermione.”
Harry, distracted from his missing Hermione, inwardly cheered that Fleur and Bill were a thing in this timeline, too. He still didn’t understand all the changes, but every time he learned something that made sense to him, it did cheer him up.
Eighteen more hours until he could see Hermione — although maybe less if he snuck over there tonight. She had written to him, and he already had a phone installed to speak to her, but there was a very insistent part of him that kept needling him, telling him he needed her right by his side. And Harry had learned to pay attention to his instincts. He just had to figure out how to get Hermione to agree.
He often thought the only one who could be more stubborn than himself was Hermione. It was usually a quality he appreciated in her, just not when it was against him.
“Well… hopefully it doesn’t take Mrs Potter as long to warm up to her as it took my mum to warm up to Fleur,” Ron said hopefully. Honestly, his mother’s problem with Fleur had confused him - she was beautiful and seemed to love his brother very much — what was there to be upset about? Ron wouldn’t admit it, but he had been worried his mother’s problem with Fleur was that she was part Veela. His mum could be a bit traditional at times.
That sounded familiar, too. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t really gotten comfortable with Fleur until after Bill had been attacked in his original timeline. Harry didn’t understand what Mrs. Weasley had against Fleur, as he saw it the same way as Ron; she had been beautiful and absolutely in love with Bill — what else could Mrs. Weasley want?
What else could his mum want from Hermione? She was beautiful, loved him and was fucking dangerous when she wanted to be. But then his mum wouldn’t know that, and he didn’t know how to tell her. In fact, he still had trouble saying anything to her. Just seeing her face made the kid he used to be want to cry and rage simultaneously. And Harry wasn’t about to give in to either reaction. He’d have to wait and let his mum see how good he and Hermione were together. Harry sighed, finally rolling over and brushing the dirt from his face. Maybe playing Quidditch would make the time pass faster, and if he went to the Burrow, he could see —
Arthur Weasley.
Harry froze as he realized he had never known Arthur Weasley in this timeline. He searched his memories desperately, but Ron had always been without a father as long as he could recall. What the actual fuck.
Harry lay there stunned not listening as Neville and Ron continued to talk to him and each other, staring blindly up into the clouds—bloody hell.
Harry still hadn’t told Hermione about Ginny, and now he would have to tell her about Mr. Weasley too. What had happened to him? There were so many differences in this timeline that Harry didn’t understand how they had come about. What happened to Arthur Weasley? Ginny? And his wife with a fucking Nott? Seriously?
He was so irritated by just fucking everything that his control slipped for just a second and his skin wavered with the animagus transformation.
“Bloody hell!” Ron jumped when orange fur sprouted on Harry’s face his glasses briefly disappearing.
“Ugh.” Harry covered his face with his hand, thanking whatever gods there were that Ron had forgotten the other life - he would have taken the piss with Harry doing an accidental partial transformation.
“What was that, Haz?” Neville asked curiously.
“It was— “ Tell a lie or the truth? Fuck that he had already had too many things to keep track of. “My animagus form slips sometimes.”
“What! When did you become an animagus? Why didn’t you tell us? What’s your form? Bloody hell, what else are you fucking hiding?” Ron’s mouth didn’t stop as he fired out question after question, not letting Harry answer.
Not bothering to answer, Harry transformed instead, looking to his friends to see what they thought of his lion form.
Neville was quiet for a moment before a slight grin broke out, and he drawled the name out, “Mufassaaaa.”
Ron burst out laughing. “What the hell, mate, that’s not really going to be useful, is it?” He reached out tentatively to touch Harry’s mane and yelped when Harry playfully showed his teeth.
Harry changed back, a little disgruntled at their response. “It’s been useful enough.”
“When?”
He thought of swiping at Death Eaters with his claws. “Never mind.”
“No. Tell me.” Ron scooted closer so his face was right in front of Harry’s. “I want to know exactly when you had time to keep that foul-tasting leaf in your mouth for a month and I didn’t notice.”
Harry remembered that they had tried several times in this timeline during their sixth year to achieve animagus transformation, but had failed. The mandrake leaf really was a foul bit of shrubbery. One really needed determination to hold in your mouth for a month — something they hadn’t really had as sixth years doing it for a lark.
Harry wasn’t about to confess anything to Ron and Neville now - there were people who he intended to tell before his best mates - who had a right to know before — and well, he needed a distraction. “Ron?”
“Yeah?”
“I bet you a galleon I can beat you and the twins at Quidditch.”
Ron jumped up. “Ha! I needed some new Quidditch supplies. Bet!”
Later when Harry had let Ron and twins roundly kick his and Neville’s arses, Ron took the galleon with glee, not having told his brothers of the bet. He flipped it in the air before looking at Harry. “Don’t think I forgot. I want answers to all my questions, mate.”
Hermione woke with her cheek pressed against a cold stone floor and her forearm throbbing excruciatingly. She blinked uncertainly in the dim darkness, barely able to make out her surroundings.
She moved cautiously, but even so, she gasped as pain streaked through her arm like lightning with her movement. She felt the wet slide of blood along her skin. She clutched her arm to her chest, not even looking at the open cuts that were bleeding profusely. She knew what it was.
Mudblood.
What was happening? Where was she? She got to her feet unsteadily, and unable to help herself, she called out softly. “Harry?”
Even though she knew he wasn’t with her in the dark, he would never leave her alone if he were here with her.
She bent over slowly, brushing her good hand against the ground, trying to locate her wand, but felt nothing. She tried to control her breathing and remain calm, but it sounded too loud in her ears. The stillness of the dark room seemed to amplify every little sound. She widened her search for her wand slowly, refusing to give up looking, despite logic saying whoever had brought her here would have taken it.
The slow scrape against stone close by her caused Hermione to freeze. “Who’s there?” she whispered, backing away from the noise. Her arm, pressed against her stomach, felt so cold, as if all the blood were draining out of her.
A low growl echoed through the dark room, and seemed to echo again and again, twisting her nerves so tight she thought she might scream from it.
The scraping sound came again. But this time it was more distinct. It wasn’t scraping at all; it was the low click of claws against the stone. A large animal was in the room with her.
“Psst.” A voice came out of the darkness. “Over here.”
Without a thought, Hermione clutched her arm and ran towards the voice. She knocked into someone after several feet with a soft oomph. “I’m sor—“
“Shh. He’s looking for us.” The voice was feminine, and a hand found her free one to tug Hermione along.
“Who?”
“The werewolf.”
Hermione woke with a gasp, clutching her stomach. Fear still clutched at her from hearing those two words, her muscles tense, preparing for fight or flight. She tried to relax, putting her hands at her sides as she lay in her bed, letting her heart rate slow down.
She breathed in slowly and held it, counting briefly before blowing out slowly and repeating the process.
Mrrow?
“ Crookshanks!” She sat up abruptly and grabbed the half-kneezle, hugging him. Instead of getting grumpy as he usually would, the cat started purring loudly, the vibration warm and calming. “I missed you sooo much, you have no idea.”
Puurrrrrr.
With a sigh, Hermione relaxed onto her side, trying to put her thoughts in order. She was going to see Harry soon, and she would have to tell him what she suspected. And perhaps confess something she had hidden from him before.
She was fully aware of the hypocrisy of what she had done, considering how she had lectured him to be blunt with everything, as they shouldn’t hide things from each other. But the circumstances had been different; there had been no other choice for them in that time. They had to face Voldemort and then they would have to face the consequences of their meddling with time.
She just hadn’t expected the consequences to be this. Now here she was with her parents downstairs, and Harry with his own parents.
And she was pregnant.
She hadn’t done the spell yet, but she was positive - it was the only thing that made sense.
The problem, however—
The problem —
Her stomach cramped warningly as she even tried to think of it. How could she have gotten into this situation? In the other timeline, she had missed two periods, and she had known she should test herself and yet she had resisted. They couldn’t make decisions based on themselves, and she knew— knew Harry wouldn’t have agreed.
Jesus.
Hermione rolled over in bed, keeping Crookshanks with her, who gave an annoyed mew then continued purring for her. The problem she faced now was fate laughing at her. The other her had been involved with Theodore Nott.
Deeply involved.
Hermione groaned and clutched Crookshanks tighter. How was she going to confess this all to Harry? What would he say?
“Hermione, dear, are you awake? You have mail.” Her mother knocked on her door.
“Yes, mum, I’ll be down in a minute!”
“Don’t take too long.”
Hermione heard her mother’s soft footsteps as she went downstairs.
She was going to have to tell her parents not only that she was married, but also that she was pregnant. Her parents had completely ignored Theo’s accusation about Harry forcing her to marry him. And she hadn’t gotten the nerve yet to explain to them that she had in fact married Harry.
Harry’s words from the first night kept running through her mind every time something seemed off with her parents. They were her parents, but just the slightest bit different — her mother no longer drank coffee in the morning. Her father had a love of gardening that he hadn’t had in her timeline.
No significant changes, just strange differences that made her wonder how exactly killing Voldemort in 1981 had led to such divergences. But still, despite the differences, they were her parents, and they loved her, and she loved them.
She just wasn’t as sure about their reaction when she told them everything, which she intended to after talking to Harry about it. She had pushed to keep her parents happy because it was only a month — now only three more weeks — but that was before her pregnancy. Hermione knew there was no way Harry was going to be okay with her staying separately from him with this new development, and she didn’t want to stay alone any longer either.
She shuddered slightly, remembering the nightmare, then brushed it off. She had too many real things to worry about than a dream that she probably had because she was missing her husband so much.
With that in mind, Hermione rolled to her feet, letting Crookshanks stay in the bed, and made her way downstairs where her parents were already eating a quick breakfast before heading out to their dentistry practice.
In her usual spot was a towering stack of mail. “Oh, my.”
“Indeed.” Her mother concurred. “Your friends are really missing you this summer. Strange considering you just saw them.”
Hermione didn’t reply, despite her mother eyeing her, and sat quietly while they ate. Then, they said their goodbyes as her parents picked up their dishes and left. With no other distractions, Hermione started going through the large stack of mail.
She laughed when she saw one was from Harry, ripping it open immediately. It was an animated little tiger that was pacing back and forth, roaring, “I miss you.” She smiled so widely it hurt, her finger tracing the small magical animation and feeling her husband’s signature in it. She would never stop being grateful that even though Harry looked a bit different, he still felt like himself — his magic felt the same when it wrapped around her so comfortingly.
She set the letter aside, carefully intending to save it, and looked at the next, and immediately the smile dropped off her face, and she let go of the envelope, letting it clunk back down on the table. It was from Draco Malfoy.
Hermione stared at it for a second, as if it were a snake about to bite. How strange that she was friends with Malfoy in this timeline. And when she thought about it - she could recall from this life being friends with many Slytherins.
She wondered what that said about her now, or if it would have always happened that way if Voldemort hadn’t been in their lives. She set aside Draco’s letter and continued through the pile. Several were from people she hadn’t even known before. One was from Luna and the another from Theo Nott.
Theodore Nott. She repeated the name silently while tracing the elegant script with her finger. She didn’t love him, but it was disconcerting to remember loving him. Even the memory of it made her feel wrong. As if she had been unfaithful to Harry.
Her hand dropped to caress her belly. And the child she carried could very well be Theo’s. She wondered what she and Harry would do if the baby was Theo’s. There were so many moral and even legal ramifications to consider.
With a deep breath, she opened the letter.
Dearest Hermione,
I don’t know what’s going on — what happened that night you disappeared? What did he do to you? We were together and happy, and suddenly you’re running away and marrying Potter? It has to be some spell or potion — nothing else makes sense.
I want you to know that I’m going to save you, no matter what — no matter that the Potters control the Auror division. My family still has influence in the Wizengamot, despite what my father may have done.
Do you remember—
Mrrrrrrooowwwww. A long, angry meow from Crookshanks made Hermione look up blinking owlishly. She was in her room somehow, the letter clutched in one had while the other was trying to get her wand away from Crookshanks.
“Ah!” She dropped the letter and stepped back from her wand. Crookshanks eyed her critically then let go of the wand, starting to groom himself without a care. “Oh my god!”
Nott had put a compulsion charm on the letter, and she hadn’t even though to check for one. She had been about to apparate to the Nott household. Jesus.
She needed Harry, and she needed him right now. Not tomorrow. With that thought she grabbed her wand, sending a quick Patronus message to Harry and asking him to meet her at a park nearby. Then she quickly changed her clothes and pulled on her trainers before running down the stairs and locking the door with a quick charm.
She reached the bench first and paced back and forth, holding herself and silently berating herself for being so stupid. She had been so careful during the war, and yet just a week in the new timeline, and she was forgetting to check for compulsion charms?
She felt Harry before she saw him, spinning around to be crushed in his arms. “Harry.”
“What’s wrong, love?”
And then stupidly, she burst into tears, because everything was wrong in this stupid timeline.
Notes:
Yay for this update! I wonder what will update next! (No really I do planning is my mortal enemy 😭😭😭😭))
Chapter 12: My wife. My baby.
Summary:
Harry makes a choice, threatens Malfoy, and hates on Hermione's parents.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“What’s wrong, love?” Harry tightened his arms around Hermione as she cried against his chest. He could feel her trembling and pushed at the bond that bound them, covering her in his magic comfortingly. “Shhh, tell me what it is, I’ll fix it.”
She shook her head against his shoulder, and Harry began to get a little alarmed. Hermione wasn’t one to break down in tears. Even when she did cry, which was rare, she was formulating a plan behind her tears.
Harry rocked her slowly in his arms as he calmed her down, shushing her like he would a child. When he could tell the storm had passed, he pressed her again. “C’mon now, love, tell me what’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know how to tell you.” Hermione sounded bewildered by her predicament.
Harry pulled back, grasping her chin with one hand while he wiped at the tear trails on her face with the other. “Just tell me, whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
She stared at him, and he could see the dilation of her eyes, almost as if she was afraid of him. Her body was visibly trembling. But that was crazy, right?
“Harry.” She whispered, licking her lips nervously. “ I-I’m pregnant.”
Harry felt as though he had just slammed into a brick wall, his lungs constricting, and he exhaled harshly. “What?”
Hermione’s eyes filled with tears again. “I’m pregnant.”
The emotional overload shut him down, leaving him staring dumbly at her for a moment. Hermione was pregnant—a baby—and in this newly “fixed” timeline, she had been with Theo Nott.
Nott’s face flashed in Harry’s mind, and rage unlike any he had ever felt rushed through him like lava. It boiled his blood and burned his veins as it took hold of him. That fucker had touched his wife. Harry was going to rip him apart. The cement cracked beneath his feet as his magic raged around him. He was going to cause a fucking incident with the Statute of Secrecy if he couldn’t control it. He took a deep, controlled breath, only one thought in his mind. I’m going to kill him.
“Harry, no, I—“ Hermione grasped him, staring into his eyes earnestly, and he realized he had uttered the death threat out loud. “I have to tell you there’s another possibility—“
“You were sleeping with someone else?” Who else had touched his wife? Who else needed to die?
“I was sleeping with you!” Hermione said heatedly, her eyes flashing.
“That — that doesn’t make sense— “ As far as he knew in this timeline they had only had something strange and intangible between them. The promise of something that hadn’t been fulfilled. Yet.
“Before we went to fight Voldemort, I suspected, but I—“
Harry grasped her upper arms, giving her a little shake. “You mean you thought you might be pregnant, and you still went to the fight?”
“What else could I do? We didn’t belong there, in that time. We needed to kill Voldemort and finish it.”
“Christ, Hermione! You had no right to keep that from me!” Harry let her go and stepped back, unable to believe the conversation they were having.
Her lips trembled, and despite himself, it softened his temper. Fuck he loved her too much for this. She grasped at him, fisting her hands in his shirt desperately and leaning toward him with an earnest expression. “I know! I know! I’m sorry, please, Harry. I’m sorry. I had to. I had to. We didn’t have a choice!” Her voice was breaking as she tried to explain herself.
“But I don’t understand why you would say the baby might be mine… we’re not who we were.”
“Not wholly no, but your Animagus remained the same, mine too, I think, although I haven’t tried. And our patronuses… I think it could be… The baby could be…” Hermione looked at him, her eyes glassy with tears. “I don’t know, but the baby could be yours.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling roughly as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Fuck, Hermione. Fuck.”
“I know.”
Harry inhaled, his hands going around her again, and one wrapping around the back of her neck. He knew what to do for himself and his little family. The baby would be a Potter. End of story. “You’re my wife.”
“Yes.” She tried to move to get closer, but he held her by the back of her neck, keeping her still while he stared into her eyes. “Yes.” She repeated fervently.
With finality, he told her, “And that’s my baby, Hermione. It’s our baby.”
Her breath caught as she stared into his bright green eyes. His eyes held a steely resolve as he repeated the claim, and she felt it in the rush of his magic over her, accepting her, claiming her again. “You don’t want to do a paternity test—?“
“I don’t need to test it, it doesn’t matter. That’s my child, Hermione. You understand?”
Hermione couldn’t look away from Harry. She loved him so much, even more so for his complete acceptance of this absolutely mental situation. She confirmed softly. “It’s our baby, Harry.” And then, impossibly, they felt another magical signature so faint, it was barely a whisper. “Was that the baby— ?” Harry’s eyes glittered at her; there was anger there, but also a love so fierce it pulled at Hermione's heart.
“I think so. He likes having his parents together. And from now on, his parents are going to be together.” Harry said, making it clear he wasn’t asking.
Hermione sighed, a little exhale of relief and acquiescence. In the face of Harry claiming her and their baby, she could finally disregard the deep-seated fear that it would have been too much for Harry, that he wouldn't have accepted the baby.
Harry caught her, his eyes on hers, and then she felt him moving in her mind. “In our other life, and in this life too, I’ve loved every version of you, I’ve known every version of you, and nothing, nothing would make me walk away from you.”
The baby or her out-of-control emotions, Hermione wasn’t sure which to blame, but she burst into tears at that again. Harry scooped her up and walked with her in his arms to a nearby bench, rocking her gently.
A passing group of muggles stared at them, one of the bolder guys calling out, “Eh, get a room!”
Harry shot him the finger and cast a quick notice-me-not to prevent any further commentary, especially since his temper was still simmering. He meant what he told Hermione; the baby was his. End of story. Just like Hermione was his.
But Theodore Nott had a limited number of days left on this earth.
When Hermione calmed down, Harry helped her stand, asking, “When are your parents going to be home?”
“In about four hours.” Her parents had a shorter day today, as it was Friday. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to them about our marriage yet.”
Harry looked at her but didn’t say anything. “Let’s go shopping in Diagon Alley for some pregnancy books, then we can come back here and pack and have that conversation with your parents.”
“They’re not going to like it. Any of it.”
“They don’t have to like it, they have to accept it.”
“What if they don’t?” Hermione still felt chilly despite the warm day.
Harry paused. He didn’t want to just bluntly state what he felt, which was that they didn’t matter. He knew Hermione had complicated feelings towards her parents, both because of what had happened in their own timeline and the fact that she was getting to have them again with her in this timeline. Hermione didn’t feel the strangeness that he felt towards his own parents. “Hermione, they have to accept it. If they want you and their grandchild in their lives, they will.”
“I’m afraid they won’t,” Hermione admitted quietly. In fact, she thought it was almost a certainty, as her parents prized education above all, they were never going to understand how she managed to get married and pregnant before eighteen.
“If they don’t, then we will still have my parents. And if my parents are a problem, then we will still have each other. And that’s all we ever needed anyway. You and me.” Even as Harry said it, he had a bone-deep certainty of his parents’ reaction. They might be upset, but they’d never walk away from him or turn him out. He pushed the thoughts away to focus on Hermione. “Let’s not anticipate trouble, okay? Let’s go get some books on pregnancy, so we know what to expect, and then we’ll go talk to your parents.”
They apparated to Diagon Alley and walked to Flourish and Blotts, the magical bookstore in the north side of the alley. They were both pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t crowded, considering how close it was to the beginning of term for Hogwarts, which was a seasonally busy time for the alley.
Flourish and Blott’s was deceptively small from the outside, with a quaint glass display with gold lettering for their name. Once you walked into the bookstore, however, you saw that it seemed to continue unchecked, farther than you could see with rows and rows of books. It was Hermione’s absolute favorite store.
They smiled at the clerk but shook their heads when offered help, instead wandering through the aisles leisurely until they found the area on magical pregnancies. Hermione plucked several books off the shelf with a hum of pleasure before sitting cross-legged on the floor, and Harry sat next to her, looking at the text.
They spent several minutes in silence, their heads close together. Perhaps if he were truly seventeen, he would be panicked at the thought of his wife being pregnant, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t a boy who had never faced true strife in his life; he was a man who had fought a war.
He stroked his hand down his wife’s arm as she eagerly skimmed through the text. Perhaps the reason Hermione still felt fragile to him was because she was pregnant. He knew that being next to her now made him feel better, and that nagging ache was gone.
He paused one of the chapters, catching his eye. “You’re supposed to be already seeing a healer. My mother is a healer.”
“Hmm. I think that might be a bit awkward, Harry. Who knows how she will react when we tell her?”
“Shocked but happy. Perhaps lecture me on contraception.” Harry grinned at her, and Hermione smiled back tentatively, still unable to believe his acceptance. But then she should have never doubted his capacity for love and forgiveness. Harry was a man of contrasts, fierce and loving.
“What?” Harry asked, noticing her gaze.
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.” Hermione leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss.
Harry’s smile turned more sensual, and his hand dropped to her hip with more intent. “Maybe you can show me later.”
“Shush, you. Behave.” Hermione turned red to the tips of her ears as she looked around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear them. Her breath caught when she met familiar grey eyes. “Malfoy!”
Harry was up before Hermione realized it, and she reached out and missed catching him, “Harry, don’t.” But he was already after Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy turned and beelined for the exit of the bookstore, but Harry was faster, leaving Hermione gathering the books to catch Malfoy two rows over.
Malfoy almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Harry blocking his path. “What do you want, Potter?”
Harry stalked closer to Malfoy, his eyes freezing the other boy in place. Malfoy saw the threat of a predator in them as Harry got closer and closer until he took an involuntary step back. “Spying on myself and my wife, Malfoy? How rude.”
“Hermione is my friend—“
Harry’s hand shot out and grasped Draco’s throat, cutting him off as he squeezed threateningly. “She was your friend. And that’s Lady Potter now, you like paying attention to traditions, don’t you?” Harry’s family had never held with their titles, but he knew Malfoy cherished his.
Draco stared at him as if Harry were a snake about to strike. “Why were you reading books about pregnancy?”
Harry thought about his answer while he squeezed a little harder on Draco’s throat. Better to get it out there now. If they were going to try to stir up trouble for his little family, perhaps he’d be able to take care of them before school started, and he had to face those hurdles. “You can be the first to congratulate me, Malfoy, we’re having a baby.”
Draco’s mouth opened and closed like a fish in Harry’s grasp. “But — but—“
Harry gave him a sharp smile, stepping even closer and enjoying his new height and bulk to intimidate the more slender boy. “That didn’t sound like congratulations.”
“C—Congratulations.” Draco gasped out.
Harry nodded, releasing Draco’s throat finally and straightening his robe condescendingly. “Good boy, now run along and don’t spy on people, it’s rude.” Draco turned and ran just as Hermione arrived at his side, a frown on her face.
“What did you do?”
Harry gave her an innocent look. “Nothing! Malfoy was just nice enough to offer us congratulations. He noticed the book.”
Knowing exactly what Harry had done, Hermione huffed out a breath, staring after where Malfoy had disappeared. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
Harry took the books from her arms, pressing a kiss to her head. “Everyone’s going to know sooner or later unless we want to get creative with cosmetic charms.”
“I’d rather it had been on my terms.” She grumbled and followed him to the register.
The confrontation with her parents went as poorly as Hermione had feared. Her father and mother sat across from them at the dining room table. Her father was stone-faced, while her mother looked disbelieving.
“You’re telling us that Theo was not joking and you are in fact married?” Her mother’s tone made it sound as if Hermione had committed a heinous crime.
Hermione flinched and Harry reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, answering for her, “ Yes, we are married. And happily. Very happily.”
“Ridiculous! You’re both children! Where are your parents, young man — we can straighten this out with them as adults and — “
“Ma’am, we are adults.”
“No, you’re not, she’s seventeen and needs our permission to marry.” Mrs. Granger looked at her daughter. “Hermione, we can have this annulled, honey— “
“No, we can’t,” Hermione said, meeting her mother’s eyes.
Mrs. Granger stopped, frozen by the look in her daughter’s eyes, and whispered. “What have you done?”
Hermione didn’t look away as she admitted to her mother. “I’m pregnant.”
Her father leaned forward threateningly. “You’re what? You can’t be! You’re seventeen and still in school!”
Harry gazed levelly at Mr. Granger, meeting the threat in his eyes. “We’re going to have a baby, we are married, and we are happy.”
Mrs. Granger jumped up, and Harry’s wand was in his hand so fast it was like it just appeared there. “This is reckless, irresponsible, and so unlike you! I don’t understand what’s going on and why we’ve never even met this boy before! Maybe Theo was right! This is some magical spell you’re under!”
Mr. Granger hadn’t taken his eyes off of Harry, though. “Are you threatening us with that weapon, boy? We banned those in this house.”
Harry’s lip curled at being referred to as a boy, but he kept his voice calm. “I will protect my wife and myself.”
“We don’t put up with this! We won’t support this!” Her mother’s irate words made Hermione crumble on the inside, but she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
“Mum. I know exactly what I’m doing. Harry and I are together and ready to raise our child together.” Harry’s hand shifted subtly, pushing Hermione further back from her parents as she spoke. He didn’t think they would try to get physical with her, but he wasn’t risking it either.
“What kind of life can a boy offer you? Neither of you has finished your schooling! You’re just children playing house. I won’t put up with it.”
Hermione jerked at her mother's words as she drew in a shuddery breath, bracing herself. This was going exactly as the worst scenario she had envisioned, and it was all she could do to hold herself together. Tears seemed always to be hovering near.
Harry’s hand tightened on his wand as he controlled his temper. No, cursing the in-laws, Hermione would not be pleased, even though they were acting like unbelievable prats. “If that’s the way you feel, you are the ones choosing to walk away from your daughter and your grandchild, because I guarantee we don’t need your support to thrive. I will protect my wife and my child, even from you if I have to.”
Mr. Granger’s fists clenched, but he still made no move. “Get out of our house and come back when you’ve come to your senses.”
Mrs. Granger jerked, spinning to look at her husband. She clearly had not expected him to issue that ultimatum and bit her lip, looking back at Hermione. She opened her mouth, and everyone paused to hear her, but then she closed it abruptly, seeming to change her mind. Finally, she offered quietly. “Our door is always open for you, Hermione, we love you, we just can’t stand by and watch while you ruin your life.”
Going upstairs and packing and leaving passed in a blur of tears for Hermione. Crookshanks was in full comfort mode, purring as she held him while Harry packed for her. When they stood at the end of the pavement, Harry turned to her, knowing her parents were watching from the window beyond.
He kissed Hermione comfortingly, ignoring Crookshanks’ grumble at being squished between them. “This is our life, Hermione. We’ve lost so much to have this chance to be happy. I love you, and I’m going to cherish every single day I have with you and our child.”
Then he kissed her, opened mouth and wet, ignoring the louder protesting yowl from Crookshanks. Let them watch, fuck their judgment.
Notes:
Wheeeee I'm earlier than I thought with this update! I feel so good about this schedule of two updates a week. It's been forever since I've been able to write consistently like this. Next week is probably going to be an Let me Love you and Matched update but who knows things change. The next Remedy chapter is pretty close to done too.
Have a happy weekend, ya'll! 💚💚💚💚💚
Chapter 13: The Three
Summary:
A talk with everyone and another nightmare.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was raining when they arrived at Potter’s Peak. It was the kind of soft summer rain that made the world feel small and closed in.
Hermione could feel her heart fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird as they approached the manor. She clenched Harry’s hand tightly, trying to draw on his confidence. His shoulders were back and jaw set as they neared his parents’ house.
Hermione half thought Harry might be relieved if his parents turned him out because he seemed so determined to be suspicious of them. For herself, the idea of being pregnant at seventeen and not even finished at Hogwarts was much, much more daunting in this timeline than the other. She had suspected before the fight with Voldemort, but she’d believed wholeheartedly that they weren’t meant to exist in that timeline, that they would simply vanish when their task was done.
Now, with the baby, they needed a means of supporting themselves, enough to live on if Harry’s parents didn’t behave as he anticipated. Or even if James and Lily did react as Harry predicted, Hermione still wanted them to be independent of Harry’s parents’ good graces.
Harry opened the large doors, and as soon as they arrived, as if by an invisible signal, Lily, James, and Zinnia Potter appeared in the entryway.
James’ sharp eyes went from his son to Hermione, seeing the tension in their faces. “Is something wrong, Harry? I didn’t know Hermione was visiting us today.”
Harry took a deep breath. “I need to tell you all something very important. Could we all go to the sitting room?”
The sitting room was cozy, smaller than the large drawing room they had been in the first night they had stayed at Potter’s Peak. It smelled of cinnamon and tea, and there were large windows on the eastern wall, showing that it was still raining outside.
Harry and Hermione sat on the sofa next to each other, facing James and Lily, who also squeezed in together on a much smaller settee. Zinnia stood off to the side with her hands stuffed in her pockets.
James waited a minute before the silence got to him, and he asked,” So you both look like you’ve faced a dragon; it can’t be all that bad. Out with it.”
Hermione couldn’t help a slightly hysterical giggle that escaped her at that comparison. A dragon indeed. Harry shot her a grin. They had looked a bit rougher after facing a dragon.
“We— “ Harry paused, looked at Hermione, then shrugged, facing his parents and little sister again. “We’re pregnant.”
All three froze.
Then his mother’s mouth dropped open. Zinnia’s eyes widened comically. James laughed nervously, looking at his wife for her reaction. “Uh, are you serious?”
Harry nodded. “We just found out.”
“You’re seventeen! Both of you! You haven’t even finished Hogwarts.” Lily’s voice was strained as she dealt with this new revelation from her son, who had been acting so bizarrely since the day of his birthday.
“We need to visit a doctor to verify how far along she is, but we’re happy and we’re keeping it,” Harry said firmly.
“Him. We’re keeping him.” Hermione muttered to Harry.
James let out a low whistle, hearing Hermione’s quiet correction. “Him . My baby’s baby.” He squeezed Lily’s hand.
Lily’s expression softened at the thought of Harry’s child. “Does your mum… does she know, Hermione?”
Hermione’s face twisted with grief before she caught herself, but not before everyone saw. “She knows,” Hermione answered softly. “Both my parents are very upset about the pregnancy and the marriage. They don’t want me living with them any longer.”
Lily’s lips firmed. She couldn’t imagine turning away Zinnia if she had come to her pregnant. She had reservations, but her son needed her support, and she was never going to disappoint Harry if she could help it. “If you’re happy about the baby, then I’m happy about him, too.” She said steadily, catching both Hermione and Harry by surprise, as they thought Lily would be the one most likely to cause an issue.
James nodded vigorously, “Yes, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters. And it's important to be together during this time, Hermione. I don’t know about your plans, but you are welcome to stay here.”
Zinnia, who had been silent the entire time, finally offered tentatively. “We could go shopping for baby things together… if you want, that is Hermione. It would be fun shopping for my little nephew.”
Despite Harry’s prediction in the park, Hermione had been so sure Harry’s parents wouldn’t accept them. Her mind had already started planning out how they would handle the pregnancy on their own without any support. That’s usually how they had found themselves in the other timeline. But the Potter’s easy acceptance and the love they displayed made tears spring to her eyes.
She sniffled, trying to hold the tears back, but couldn’t. Harry’s head whipped to the side as soon as he heard the catch in her breath.
“Oh, love.” He murmured, pulling her into his lap. “It’s going to be okay.”
His comforting action was all that was needed to prompt Hermione to start crying in earnest from all the emotions flooding her. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” She sobbed into his neck. “I just can’t stop.”
Lily looked wryly at James while Zinnia looked on, concerned. Lily remembered her own first few months of pregnancy when sometimes even freshly baked muffins had reduced her to tears.
They got up and approached the sitting couple. James laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder while Lily patted Hermione’s back, where Harry wasn’t cradling her.
“It’s going to be okay, dear. You’ll see. You both are going to be fine, and we will be here to support you to make sure of that.” Lily said, continuing to pat Hermione’s back comfortingly.
When Hermione showed no signs of stopping, Harry gave his parents a small smile of thanks. “I think we are going to go to my room for now.”
“Let me know if you need anything, son.” James stepped back.
Lily also stepped back with the offer, “I can help do some initial medical exams—I had some experience in the healing arts before you were born, Harry. But you two do need to schedule an appointment with a specialist as soon as possible.”
Harry stood adjusting Hermione, who kept her face firmly wedged against his neck. “I’ll talk to Hermione about it and let you know. We appreciate your support.” Harry stopped for a moment, wanting to tell them he loved them, but the words seemed to get tangled up in his throat. So he nodded and left, cuddling Hermione, taking comfort from her just as she took comfort from him.
Upstairs, curled together in his bed, it took a long time for Hermione’s storm of tears to subside. When he tried to turn her to face him, Hermione pulled her face away, grabbed a pillow, and smashed it over her face.
“Don’t look at me.” She said grumpily. “Now everyone is going to think I’m a blasted watering pot.”
Harry kept his lips zipped on his thoughts about her being a watering pot. Hermione could be a tad vindictive when she wanted to be. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her back. “I keep telling you, stop fretting about what everyone else thinks. It’s just you and me, love.”
“I wish it were just us again.”
“It can be if you want it to. We can move out.”
“With what funds?”
“Well, “ Harry said, looking around. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this bloody mansion we’re in. It has entirely too many rooms, by the way. Oh, and an entire Quidditch field too. But I’m actually bloody rich.”
Hermione laughed, finally pulling the pillow off her face. “Your parents are rich. That isn’t your money.”
“ Au contraire . I happen to know that in this timeline, I was left a trust in my name from my grandparents. It matured when I turned seventeen.” Harry smiled at her. “Wizarding age.”
“I wonder if you had that in the other timeline,” Hermione said, wishing it were easier to compare the two timelines and see what exactly was different.
“Perhaps. Remember, after I turned seventeen, everything in the war was very escalated by then.”
Hermione thought about it, but then shook her head. “Still. We should save that money if possible and find a means of supporting ourselves without relying on it— especially now that we’re having a baby.”
“A boy baby?” Harry said questioningly, wondering about her correction earlier.
Hermione shrugged shyly. “I don’t know, doesn’t he feel like a he?” Her hands moved to her belly, stroking it lightly.
Harry lifted his hand to join hers, lacing their fingers together over her belly. “I didn’t feel that in the magic, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t.” He leaned down and nuzzled her face. “You’re quite a bit closer to him than me at the moment, after all.”
Hermione cuddled closer to Harry, “There’s so much to talk about, so much to plan for. I need to start making lists so I don’t forget anything.”
“Ah, list making. An area of expertise for you.” Harry said teasingly, enjoying stroking his wife’s soft skin. He turned a bit more serious with his next caution, “Try not to worry too much, though, love. Everything is going to be fine, I promise. We have so many people here to help us, and there’s no more Voldemort to worry about.”
“I know that logically, but somehow I still can’t quite…” Hermione trailed off, not sure how to express the uncertainty of having people standing behind them again. They had been on their own since they left for the Horcrux hunt so many years ago.
But Harry understood perfectly. He was having trouble allowing himself to love his parents like he wanted to — there was still the fear it was all a mirage and he couldn’t let himself trust enough to open himself up to that much hurt. “I know.” He told her. “I feel the same way.”
Hermione bit her lip. “That’s why I want to be ready for anything. Just in case it all falls apart on us again.”
“Hmm,” Harry replied, thinking. “Did you know they have Wizarding duels in some other countries? Sirius took me — well, the me that was raised here to one when I was younger. The prizes for winning are very high.”
Hermione gave him a flat look. “You are not engaging in duels to make money like some prize fighter.”
“Well, no, but if I open up some type of professional training service — even consulting for Aurors— I’d just have to win a few of them to establish a reputation for myself.”
Hermione frowned, her hand tightening on his. “What about our magic? I know you’ve noticed it.”
“I have,” Harry admitted, there was no escaping it — since they had arrived in this timeline their magic was distinctly weaker. “We just have to figure it out and fix it.”
Hermione sighed. “The thought of research is tantalizing but maybe after a nap. I think I cried out all my energy. I’ve been so sleepy lately.” She grimaced. “And I’m having nightmares.”
“Nightmares?”
“I know, weird, right? I didn’t even have nightmares during the worst of the war. And other than being a sleepy watering pot, I feel okay.”
Harry stroked her curls. “If they keep bothering you, we’ll get some dreamless sleep.”
“No, it was just a few. I’m sure they’ll stop. I don’t even know why I mentioned it.”
Harry cupped her chin, turning her face to him and meeting her eyes. “Because you’re supposed to tell me everything. No secrets, Mrs. Potter.”
Hermione stuck out her tongue and yelped when Harry leaned forward as if he was going to nip it. “Ew!”
“Hey, I’m never ew. I’m yummy. Got it?” Harry said mock threateningly, rolling her underneath him.
“Fine, Mr. Yummy. Please cuddle me properly, I’m tired. I’ll nap and then we’ll start our research.”
“Ah, we have a bunch of rare volumes in the library.”
Hermione gave a sleepy, cheerful smile, her eyes already closing. “I’m counting on it.”
Harry smiled back softly and stroked her hair until her breathing was deep and even. Hermione might need a nap, but he didn’t. He stayed cuddled close to her though, thinking.
Hermione wanted them to be able to support themselves independently if they lost access to their resources in the bank. It wasn’t a completely outlandish thought. One never knew when one might have to go on the run and forgo nice things like fat bank accounts.
Harry was confident. With his experience, he could easily win some high-profile dueling competitions to make a name for himself. Then it would only be a case of leveraging that to set himself up as a consultant to the Ministry or as an independent trainer. The weakness of his magic posed a major roadblock to that plan, however, so it was a priority.
Along with obtaining baby items.
For him .
Harry’s hand slid down his wife’s sleeping form to cradle her belly. It was three of them now. The thought circled in his mind, wanting to bring back something important.
The three of them. Three.
He remembered the night he had married Hermione again in this timeline—the nonsensical whispers of the Potter Marrying Tree.
The three. They’re here.
The tree had always said that. He had thought it meant him because of how many different ways the tree named him. But what if it wasn’t?
As carefully as Harry could without disturbing his wife, he extricated himself from the bed. He had an appointment with that blasted tree.
He went down the stairs at a fast clip, moving toward the front door.
“Haz— “ His sister called from the drawing room.
“Not now, Zinny, I’ll be right back.” Not even pausing, he came outside, moving toward the marrying tree.
In the light of day, it was easy to spot the largest tree on the property with branches stretching out so far that you were always under shade no matter the angle of the sun. He reached out with his hand, laying it against the bark of the tree, feeling the magic pulsing within.
“Did you know?” He whispered to it. “Is that what you meant by the three?” His hand fisted against the bark at the silence, and he turned facing the house again and leaned back against the tree.
“It just fucking figures. I never get any bloody answers when I want them.” Harry slid down, sitting on the ground and banging his head back once against the silently stubborn tree.
Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he swore he heard the faintest laughter from the tree. Despite what he told Zinnia, he sat there long enough that someone else came out looking for him.
Harry watched James Potter approach him. James was tall, as tall as Sirius, and his shoulders were broader than they had appeared in the few pictures Harry had had of him as a child. But then the pictures he had were of James in his twenties. Not a man of thirty-seven.
His father stopped when he was close enough, sticking his hands into his trousers. “You okay, son?”
“Fine.” The answer came out automatically, without a thought. But it wasn’t really true was it?”
James kicked at the dirt before coming and sitting next to him, bracing his hands on his legs. “I remember when your mum told me she was pregnant with you. I was scared out of my mind.”
“I wanted to do right by you, but I was so young. And after what happened with my mum and Dad.”
The questions trembled on the tip of his tongue, but Harry bit them back as James continued.
“But it will be different for you.” James turned to Harry, resting his hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I’m here. I’m going to be here every step of the way. When you have questions, when you’re scared, whatever you need. All of us we will be.”
Harry blinked, unable to hold his father’s sincere golden gaze. Lily Potter frequently said her husband was the sunshine in her life. Warmth and love radiated from those hazel eyes, and it was like a battering ram to the wall Harry had been determined to keep up.
“I want to be a good dad.” He admitted, his throat tightening. As good a dad as James had been to the other him in this timeline.
“You will be.”
“But you don’t know…” Harry trailed off, unwilling to finish. James didn’t know him. Not really.
“Harry, look at me. No, don’t look away. Look at me .”
Harry couldn’t resist the plea in that voice, meeting his father’s gaze again. “You’re going to be the best father. Because of who you are in here.” James tapped Harry’s chest over his heart. “You’re the best of me and you mum. There’s no question of you not doing the best by your own child.”
“Not Zinnia then?” Harry tried to joke with a tight throat, the words scraping as he tried to say them evenly.
James smiled softly. “We saved some of our best for her.”
Harry smiled back, still pulling back and rubbing a rough hand over his face. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” Harry stood and reached back to help his father up with a quick hand. “I need to get back before Hermione wakes up from her nap.”
“Ah, okay.” James looked towards the house, then back at Harry and grinned. “Race you there!” There was a flash of magic, then a stag was kicking up dirt, racing to the doorway.
Harry watched for just a second before taking action. Watch this, Dad.
James Potter unfortunately lost the race when he noticed a lion on his tail and was unable to suppress the animalistic impulse for flight, which took him in the opposite direction of the door to the purring laughter of Harry’s lion.
Upstairs, while Harry tried to explain his animagus form to a shell-shocked James Potter, Hermione’s brow wrinkled in sleep as she tossed on the bed.
“ Don’t say a word.” The voice whispered, clutching Hermione’s hand tightly. “He’s close.”
The air was so cold it hurt to breathe it in, and Hermione shivered as she crouched down, hidden from something unseen. The darkness was so absolute that she could only feel around her with trembling fingers. “But where— “
“Shhh!”
Hermione shifted in the bed, shivering despite the covers.
A low growl vibrated through the air, deep and hungry.
“We have to move.” The voice urged, pulling at her arm, trying to get her to move.
“No, this is — this is a nightmare, I don’t have—“
Hermione’s head thrashed violently side to side. Her eyes remained shut, but her hands stretched out, grasping at nothing.
The voice let out a terrified scream. It sounded like her own voice screaming, and completely disoriented her.
She stood up, looking around desperately in the darkness. She felt the rush of wind first.
Then impact.
She tried to catch herself reaching out— and snap. The crack was audible as her wrist slammed into the ground.
Hermione woke up with a scream, clutching her broken wrist as she fell out of bed.
Notes:
So I forgot today is Harry Potter's birthday! He's forty five!
I always imagine BLVNK's Harry in my mind.
Have a look.
We'll see if I can do more updates today idk i have my fingers crossed - you do it too
PS Any requests for which one should be updated? I can see if i can swing it.
Chapter 14: Luna Exists in Every Time Line
Summary:
A new heartbeat
Chapter Text
The sound of Hermione’s scream jolted Harry downstairs into a run, and his magic snapped out, obeying unconscious demands. He took control of the wards from his father, and the house responded to his panic. Windows locked and doors slammed shut as Harry ran towards his bedroom.
“Harry!” James Potter shouted from behind him, but Harry didn’t respond, already halfway up the stairs.
His feet thudded on the carpet, his only thought to get to his wife. The door to his bedroom flew open with magic just as Harry reached, and he barreled through his wand at ready. The door slammed shut behind him, a complicated locking charm falling into place to protect his back.
Hermione was on the floor, cradling her wrist with tears on her face. He dropped down next to Hermione, and she looked at him with panic-stricken eyes.
“I’m here. Let me see it.” The words brooked no argument, and he pulled her arm gently away from her chest. Spells immediately began to spill from his lips as he waved his wand over her wrist; pain relief charms and a quick medical diagnostic sprang into action.
Hermione sighed in relief as the pain receded, then grimaced as Harry knitted the bone together with magic.
“What happened, love?”
Hermione opened her mouth, but the door shuddered violently just then as James Potter arrived after getting through two locking charms. “Is everything okay? Harry, open this door!”
Harry didn’t have time yet for someone else’s questions; his came first. He cast a silencing charm before looking toward Hermione with a frown and repeated tensely. “What happened?”
Hermione grimaced, twisting her wrist slowly as she tested out the newly mended bone. “I don’t know. I think I fell out of bed?” She finished questioningly, unable to believe it herself.
“Stop twisting your wrist; it needs to be rested for the next twenty-four hours. You know how broken bones can be.” Harry admonished, grabbing her hand and conjuring a length of cotton that he wrapped snugly around her wrist to give it support. They had dealt with enough injuries while fighting the war that a broken bone was easily handled by themselves.
The entire room shuddered as James Potter yanked control of the wards back from his son. The door burst open, and James came into the room so fast he sprawled out on the floor before jumping up again quickly and looking around with his wand as if expecting a fight. “What the hell was that, Haz? Is Hermione okay?”
“Nothing. I took care of it.”
“I heard her scream.” James gestured to Hermione, seeing the newly applied bandage. “Are you injured? Lily has training— “
“Dad, I took care of it,” Harry repeated with emphasis, not wanting anyone else in the room with him and his wife— even his father. “We’re fine. We just… need a minute. I’ll come down later to explain, but for now, could you please give us privacy?”
James frowned, surveying his son and Hermione. “You’ll explain?”
“Later,” Harry promised, making it clear it would be on his terms.
James paused a second too long as he gazed at his son before nodding, and the tension in the room dissipated. “I’ll be waiting.” Before he left, James surveyed Harry and Hermione again as if making sure they were safe before leaving and quietly closing the door.
Hermione blew out a puff of air. “You could have just told him I fell out of bed.”
Harry picked her up and settled her in bed before climbing in next to her. “I — Jesus, Hermione. You scared the hell out of me.” He squeezed her close, wrapping himself around her. He never wanted to hear his wife screaming - ever. He only wished he had someone he could punish for it to get rid of the ache in his chest.
Realizing from the tenseness of Harry’s muscles how much she had scared him, Hermione dropped the subject, instead turning into her husband’s embrace. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful—“
“I’m casting protective enchantments on the bed to prevent falls— I should have done that already, considering you’re pregnant and who knows what could have happened. I’ll cast extra wards around our room too and —“
Hermione put her finger against his lips, quieting his spiral. “Harry. I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“You’re not okay, you broke your fucking wrist and I wasn’t here to catch you.”
Dark memories were creeping into her husband’s gaze. They both had too many demons from their years fighting. Wanting to comfort Harry and distract him from remembering those darker times, she said his name lovingly, “Harry.” Then tilted her chin up so she could kiss him and stop him from speaking further.
She touched her lips to his gently and caressingly while she let her magic reach for him because words weren’t enough right now. The ties that bound them tightened, pulling them together, their magic mixing to create a blanket over both of them filled with peace and warmth she projected.
Their love for one another streamed through their magic, blending together in a golden glow until it appeared as if the sun shone down on them from inside the room. Until Harry finally took breath, letting out the panic and recriminations that had been building in his heart.
“No, fair using this against me.” He told her gently, their lips still touching. The tension was leaving all his muscles as he relaxed against her.
“I don’t like fighting fair.”
He laughed. No, his wife did not. Anyone going up against her better watch their back because Hermione had no compunction when it came to winning. “I’m glad you’re on my side then.”
“Always,” Hermione promised.
To stop himself from plotting how he would accident-proof the house for her, Harry admitted, “That’s very good because I need you to help me come up with an explanation on why I suddenly have a lion animagus form.”
“What?”
“Oh, and also, why my patronus changed. Apparently, the other me was a stag, too.” He said slightly derisively.
“Who did you transform in front of?”
Harry grinned even though his wife was looking increasingly vexed. “My dad. I had to beat him racing, and he turned into a stag— those are fast as hell.”
“Bloody hell, Harry.” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think. What the hell could explain that? The animagus form could likely be explained away by saying he wanted to surprise his dad, but what about the patronus? “Your dad knows other Harry’s patronus was a stag?”
“Yep. Was damn proud of it too.”
Patronus’ typically only changed with major life events—“We got married!”
“Yes? A few days ago?” Harry asked, looking at her as if she might have hit her head too.
“No, that’s why your patronus is different - remember it changes sometimes when a witch or wizard goes through a major life event or change. You got married. We became animagi together in secret, and when we married, your patronus changed.”
“That works. That’s kind of happened anyway. Just on a different timeline.”
Hermione nodded before flopping back on the bed, careful of her wrist. “I just had a nap, but I‘m already ready for another one. I feel like I didn’t get a chance to rest at all.”
“I’ll stay next to you.” He’d watch her and wake her if he noticed the slightest hint she might be having a nightmare. He’d have to get some tools and etch some runes to help her sleep, too.
Not even bothering to argue because she knew there was no way Harry was leaving her side after she was hurt, Hermione cuddled close to him and closed her eyes, knowing this time she was absolutely safe from any strange nightmares.
Over the next few days, Harry hovered over Hermione like a raincloud.
No, Hermione could not lift her own plate.
No, Hermione could not stand up from the tub on her own.
No, Hermione could not stress over research and everything they had to accomplish before setting off for Hogwarts.
It was the last edict that Hermione finally had to put her foot down and rein Harry in from indulging his overprotective side.
“We don’t have much time left before school starts, and I am going to try to find something to help us in that wonderful library,” Hermione said while stomping down the hallway to the Potter library.
“But you’ll strain your wrist.”
“Harry, my wrist is perfectly fine. We have so many things on our to-do list, we’re not going to get everything done in time as it is.”
A snooty meow punctuated her declaration. Crookshanks had mysteriously appeared inside the house the previous day. Hermione and Harry had woken up to the large orange cat snoozing at their feet.
Hermione had worried about Crookshanks' reception after he showed up so unceremoniously, but the other occupants of the Potter house had taken to the half-kneazle with alacrity. Lily had even mentioned they used to have a cat when Harry was a baby, but hadn’t had the heart to replace him when he passed away.
“But—“ Harry began to argue that a pregnant witch should rest more.
“You sent that letter to Headmistress McGonagall last week, right?” After Dumbledore had disappeared in 1981, McGonagall had become headmistress of Hogwarts. Appropriate, considering it was likely what would have happened if they had won the Battle of Hogwarts in their original timeline.
“Yes.” Harry knew Hermione was worried about the lack of reply, but he wasn’t. Hermione would be with him in his rooms when they went to Hogwarts, or they would not be attending. He would not be separated from her again.
His father had told him that there used to be marital suites in Hogwarts before it became rarer as society’s expectations for marriage changed in the wizarding world. They had written to McGonagall about their new status and requested one of these rooms.
Harry also wanted to be on the same schedule as his wife, just in case she needed him and to make sure she didn’t stress herself out. Not to mention there were fuckwits like Theo Nott wandering around Hogwarts.
Hermione frowned as they entered the library, but her expression changed immediately once they stepped over the threshold. She stopped for a moment just inside the library to inhale the scent deeply. The smell of the leather bindings of the books and parchment permeated the air. She loved that smell. “Perhaps we should owl her again. What if she misplaced the missive? She’s probably extremely busy with the beginning of the term coming up.”
Hermione continued to one of the heavy wooden reading tables that were in the center of the large, cathedral-like room. She placed her list of to-do items down before turning around to start looking through the books.
Harry followed his wife, watching as her hands twitched when she came closer to the books. His plan to make her rest more was doomed to failure now that she’d entered the library. “Let’s give it another day, then I’ll send Hedwig to her again.”
“Fine,” Hermione muttered, pulling a book off the shelf to flip through it. It had some interesting information on how to break protective enchantments. She’d always been curious— no, no, she had to see what she could find on their current predicament.
Since waking up in the new timeline, their magic wasn’t what it had been. Both she and Harry had issues with the strength of their spells. Strangely enough, Harry reported that Ron had told Harry he didn’t have any issues with his magic.
Why was it different with them? Was it because they kept their memories of the original timeline? Time travel was highly regulated, and they could get in trouble with the Ministry if it were found out what they had done. So it made finding out how to fix their issue a delicate matter.
Hermione pulled out some history books that were enchanted to update automatically. Another item on their to-do list — familiarizing themselves with all the changes.
Despite what one might think, it wasn’t all good that came out of their destruction of Voldemort earlier in the timeline. Hermione still couldn’t bear to find out about Arthur and Ginny. But she would. Eventually.
Several house later, along with some grumbling meows from Crookshanks, they all sat on the floor of the library with books spread out around. They had located some time travel books, but they were mainly on the mechanics and laws of time travel — not anything remotely close to fixing their problem.
Hermione rubbed her temple as she flipped through a text. “I think we might have had more of a chance with Draco’s library; your family doesn’t seem the sort to break the law often.”
“I hate that you say Draco .”
“Malfoy’s library.”
“Thank you.”
“Hopefully, we have better luck with the restricted section. You still have your cloak, right?”
Harry thought for a moment. “Yes, upstairs under the bed.”
“Good, we’re going to need it.”
Harry was quiet for a moment while Hermione scribbled in her notes. “What if we don’t find anything to help us there?”
Hermione reached out, placing her hand over his and squeezing. “We’ll figure it out.” She wasn’t about to tell him she’d find a way to go through the Malfoy and Nott libraries if she had to. She knew Harry would eventually come around to the idea if it was a necessity, but she wasn’t broaching the subject until she knew they had no choice in the matter.
Footsteps had them both turning around as James Potter entered the library. “Delivery!” He said, looking around.
Harry jumped up. “Here, Dad.”
“You two are popular today.” James smiled as he handed over the mail. “And there’s one from McGonagall in there. Let me know if you need help sorting the Hogwarts situation out.”
“We’ve got it.”
James’s lip quirked up at the now standard response from his son. “Just remember that I’m here, Haz. You two are going to need help with a lot of things now that there’s a baby on the way. Have you scheduled the doctor’s appointment?”
Hermione answered from where she was still sitting amongst the books. “We were able to get an appointment for August thirty-first.”
James gave a low whistle. “Cutting it close. You know the offer is open for Lily…”
“No, thank you, sir,” Hermione said.
“Please, call me James.” James gave a small laugh and winked. “Or Dad.”
Hermione smiled at him but stayed silent. She still wasn’t completely comfortable with Harry’s father, and she knew that was her own fault. She has been more focused on completing the list of items rather than integrating with her new family. They’d been more than gracious about her distraction, though, and she was grateful.
When the silence stretched, James nodded toward the pile of books, moving closer to where Hermione was sitting. “What are you two reading up on?”
Harry slipped in front of his dad before he got to too close. “Just brushing up on some history and defense charms.”
“Oh.” James looked a little confused by the answer. “If you want to practice dueling— “
Harry looked intrigued; his father was very good at wizarding duels. It might give him the opportunity to test how much the lack of power would impact him in a fight.
“We have to finish up here, but yeah, Dad. That would actually be great.”
James beamed at finally being able to do something for his stubborn son. “Just let me know when. We can even get Sirius in; he’s got a brilliant way with spell combinations.”
When James left, Harry went back to sit next to Hermione, looking through the mail. He stopped immediately, noticing the signature and location— McGonagall had finally responded. He opened the letter first.
Harry grinned at Hermione when he finished reading the letter, handing it over to her. “I can practically hear the aggravation in her voice as if she were saying this to me. But she’s opening one of the marital rooms, and we’ve managed to get all our classes together, so that’s one thing less to worry about. You’ll be with the Gryffindors as we requested.”
“It’s going to be weird knowing them and they won’t know me,” Hermione murmured, scanning the letter. “She’s definitely not pleased we married and less pleased to know I’m pregnant.”
“She’ll get over it. And they’ll get to know you again.” Harry shook his head, looking at the rest of the mail. “They’re going to have to get to know me again, too.”
Hermione sighed, looking over the letter, then back at her notes. “I still need some supplies for the upcoming year. We’re going to have to make time to go to Diagon Alley, too.”
“I already have my supplies, and so does Zinnia, but we can go, and I'm sure she would want to tag along. Maybe if we have time, we can stop at Fortescue's.”
The mention of the ice cream shop made Hermione lick her lips. “Mmm. I like the sound of that.”
He threw a letter from Malfoy and Nott into the discard pile, not handing them to Hermione. Hermione looked at the letters but didn’t say a word or reach for them. Harry was sensitive about it, and she respected that. She wouldn’t want him getting letters from a girl he had dated either. She also hadn’t told him about the compulsion charm, which she felt guilty about, but she knew her husband. The war was still very close to both of them. Harry’s response would likely be to maim Nott seriously, and she didn’t feel that response was warranted.
“Oh.” Harry stopped at one letter, and Hermione looked over to see that he held a missive from Luna.
“Let me see.” Hermione took it from him to open. It was addressed to both of them, and Luna had invited them over for tea. She fingered the envelope for a moment before deciding. “Luna invited us over for tea this weekend. I think we should go.”
Harry nodded immediately. He hadn’t liked Luna leaving with the Slytherins that day in front of Hermione’s house, and this would give him the opportunity to talk to Luna about it.
The clock chimed then, and they realized they had been in the library all morning.
“C’mon, love, let’s go eat lunch.” Harry stood and helped Hermione to her feet, ignoring the glance she gave him that said she could stand up on her own. Why should she when he was there?
Harry began to gather up their books from the floor while Hermione selected a few to take back to their room. She had no intention of leaving them behind when there was so much to catch up on and read.
In the dining room, his sister, mother, and father were already there with plates in front of them. His mother smiled overly brightly at them as they entered.
“Your father told me you two were reading up on some history?” Lily asked as Harry pulled out Hermione’s chair.
“For the upcoming semester,” Hermione replied as she settled into her seat.
Cheerful house elves smiled at them as plates appeared with Hermione’s plate piled mountainously high. For the baby , Posey, one of the house elves mouthed to Hermione before disappearing with a soft pop.
Zinnia smiled teasingly. “Seems appropriately Ravenclaw-ish to start studying before the term starts.”
“Anything I can help you find? I think I’ve gone through most of the Potter library myself.” Lily admitted.
“Yes, one would think that’s why you married me,” James said with a smirk, blowing a kiss to his wife.
Lily laughed. “Well, perhaps one of the reasons.”
“It is an amazing library,” Hermione said. It hadn’t had some of the darker works present in the restricted section, but it had quite an extensive catalog of protection magic and historical texts. “We were just brushing up, not looking for anything in particular.” Hermione quite thought she was getting a bit too good at lying.
“What period?” Lily pressed.
Hermione glanced at Harry, who answered. “Oh, mostly the first wizarding war, mum.”
“The first?” Lily’s brow furrowed.
Harry shook his head, “ Sorry, just meant the wizarding war.”
Lily still looked perturbed by the misstatement, while James just appeared uncomfortable with the topic. “It was a rough time to live through.” He admitted. “But if you have questions, we can try to answer them.”
“No, we’re good. Just doing some reading.” Harry responded, not wanting to upset his parents. He hadn’t wanted to talk about the bloody war when it was happening to him, so he understood the aversion.
“Dad told me you scheduled the doctor’s appointment.” Zinnia interrupted, changing the subject when the conversation hit a lull. “Do aunts get to go to doctor’s appointments? I think that would be cool.”
Harry laughed. “No, you can’t come to the doctor’s appointment, but we still have to go get Hermine some supplies for Hogwarts, and we want to try to stop at Fortescue’s if it's not too crowded. Want to come?”
“Yes!” Zinnia looked cheered at being included. “Maybe we can even get some baby clothes and Madam Malkin's. Oh my gosh, or we could special order a little chaser outfit!”
“Oh my, that would be cute,” Lily had thought mostly about the challenges her son and Hermione were going to face; now she was thinking about the baby. Thinking of the baby now brought a warm glow to her expression.
“But why a …” Hermione trailed off as Harry shook his head.
“Why what?” James asked. “Oh, maybe Hermione is not a Quidditch fan!” He winked at Harry. “We’ll work on that.”
Zinnia rolled her eyes. “Watch the baby’s first world is quaffle.”
“Better than Harry’s first word.”
Lily shot a dark look at James before turning back to Hermione. “Just remember that Sirius is not the best babysitter.” She frowned. “Actually, Posey would be the best babysitter. Have you two thought of how you are going to handle classes once the baby comes?”
“Well, we don’t know um — “ Hermione blushed. “I don’t know exactly how many weeks I am yet until the doctors visit, but we are hopeful that I’ll be due close to the end of the term.”
Harry nodded. “We got our letter back from McGonagall, she’s approved the change in schedule and our request for a marital dorm. We’re going to take extra classes in the winter, so in the spring term, we can have a lighter schedule and trade off caring for the baby ourselves. We’re really hoping to have it just be us without relying on anyone else at Hogwarts.”
“What about me?” Zinnia asked, sounding offended.
Hermione asked tentatively. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind watching him while we studied, that would be wonderful.”
Zinnia glowed as she bit into a buttered roll, nodding enthusiastically.
Lily reached across the table and nudged a plate of vegetables toward Hermione. “Make sure you eat enough, dear. You’re eating for two now.”
“Thank you.” Hermione accepted with a small smile. “I’ve been reading up on healthier eating for the baby, so I promise I’m eating enough.”
Lily nodded seriously. “You two are handling this quite well.” She shot a wry glance at James. “Better than us, at least.”
James grinned. “Remember how much we panicked?”
“Oh god.” Lily shook her head. “At least they’re not in the middle of a war.”
The exchange was interrupted when Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, half laughing.
Lily gave him a puzzled glance as she didn’t think it was that funny, but James just shrugged when she looked at him questioningly. Who knew what went on in the kids’ heads these days?
But Hermione, who knew exactly why Harry was half-sputtering with laughter, kicked him under the table.
That weekend, the summer sun shone brightly as they approached the Lovegood house. The Lovegood home was reminiscent of the Burrow with more whimsy thrown into the construction. A crooked tower stretching high into the sky with mismatched windows catching and reflecting the sun’s light.
It was surrounded by wildflowers, bright and gnarled, buzzing with bees and tiny flying insects. A skinny tree stood near the front door with a wind chime of butter beer caps that clinked in the breeze.
Hermione paused for a moment, taking it in. Perhaps this was always how Luna’s home should have looked, not the sad grey version they had visited during the war. Harry’s hand was tight on her elbow, making sure she didn’t trip on the uneven path.
Before they could knock on the door, it flew open and Luna stood there smiling brightly. “You’re late!” Then she laughed as if she had made a funny joke. “It’s okay though, time isn’t very considerate of what we want, is it?”
“Luna…” Hermione began as a shiver ran down her spine. Luna had always been slightly otherworldly, but that comment…
“Come in.” Luna stepped to the side, letting them in. The Lovegood home was filled with an odd assortment of items and smelled of herbs and parchment. “Daddy is upstairs working on the Quibbler. He probably won’t be down.”
Harry closed the door behind him. “What did you mean about time, Luna?”
Luna shrugged, leading them to a table piled high with feathers, drawings, and teacups. “What about time?”
Harry pulled out a chair for Hermione and sat next to her. He forgot how easily Luna could derail a conversation. He decided just to be blunt and focus on his goal with her. Keeping her away from Slytherins. “Luna, we wanted to talk to you about Malfoy and that lot.”
“Yes, my friends.”
Harry frowned. “They are not good friends, Luna.”
“But they are thi s time. Although Draco does not believe me about the gnome infestation of the ministry.” She frowned, looking down at the mismatched tea cups in her hand. “I am going to persuade him eventually.”
“They are self-serving friends, Luna. You don’t need to hang around that sort.” Harry persisted.
Luna gave them each a teacup and poured the tea. She shook her head at Harry. “They hum differently this time. You’ve shifted something big.” She tilted her head as if she were listening to something, closing her eyes. They could hear Xenophilius Lovegood laughing upstairs loudly at whatever he was writing.
When Luna stayed like that and didn’t move, Hermione reached out to touch her hand gently. “What do you mean we shifted something big?”
Luna’s eyes opened slowly, dreamily. “It doesn’t usually happen like this, you know.” She took a sip of her tea. “Don’t worry, though. Worrying too early will spoil the tea.”
Harry shook his head, not about to give up yet. “Luna, what do you say to being around Hermione and me more this year?”
Luna straightened. “Yes! We need to find out what kind of tart the baby likes best! There’s treacle tarts, chocolate tarts, Manchester tarts…”
Hermione blinked. “How do you know about the baby?”
“Didn’t you tell me?”
Harry looked at Hermione, both of them unsettled.
“No, Luna. We didn’t.” He answered softly.
“Oh.” Luna settled her cup on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. No one believes me about things anyway.”
“I believe you.” Hermione paused. “About some things, anyway.”
“That’s sensible. And you’ve always been the most sensible. No matter what time.”
“Luna.” Harry finally asked with a sharp green gaze. “ You know we’re different, don’t you?”
“You’re always different.” Luna leaned forward as if inspecting them. “Time is a tangle, you know, threads knotted and some frayed. We haven’t followed this thread before, though. It’s new.”
“Is this a good thread then?” Hermione asked cautiously.
Luna shrugged. “If it’s not, then you’ll change it. That’s what you always do.”
They were all still for a moment, the space so quiet you could hear a quill scratching on parchment from upstairs and the soft clinking of the butterbeer caps outside.
Finally, Luna reached out to Hermione, tucking a stray curl back. “I like this version of you both, though. Sometimes it takes you two forever to realize you’re meant to be.”
Hermione swallowed hard, a mix of comfort and tension twisting her stomach.
“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said, his voice slightly rough. This Luna was definitely different than the Luna they had known. Perhaps she knew other things. “Do you know why our magic is not what it should be?”
Luna’s mouth made a perfect o. “Are you having trouble with your magic? We researched this in The Quibbler. Venus being in retrograde can negatively impact magical output! But tea laced with Silverthorne blooms should fix you right up. I can get you some!”
And there was the Luna they knew. Next, she’d be offering them nargle pesticides.
“No, thank you, Luna. We appreciate it, though.”
Luna frowned. “I’ll get some for you anyway. It will keep away the howling dark.”
“We’ll light a candle for any darkness,” Harry said gently, while Hermione had that creeping, uneasy feeling again. The phrase made her think of her nightmares.
Luna nodded, taking a sip of her tea. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, Luna.”
Luna smiled at them now, squinching up her shoulders. “I really like this you.”
Hours after the visit, Harry and Hermione curled up in bed, cuddling each other. There was a gentle whistling noise near their feet where Crookshanks lay softly snoring.
“Was she always like that?” Hermione finally whispered to Harry. He had talked to Luna more than she had.
“I never asked her those questions. Maybe.”
“What do you think she meant by the howling dark?”
“It’s Luna, love. Don’t worry about it, remember it spoils the tea.”
Hermione poked him. “There’s howling in my nightmares.”
“You haven’t had any since that day, right?”
“No.”
“Good.” He hugged her tight for a minute, his hand moving over the curve of her hip. “Try to sleep, love, I’m watching over you.”
Practice dummies lined the far wall of the room of requirement, and each of the walls was covered in mirrors, making the room seem cavernous. Harry strolled down the line of the dummies, twirling the elder wand in his grasp.
Harry stopped abruptly when one of the dummies blasted apart just a few feet from him, the wand coming up as he took a defensive stance.
When he looked to see who had blasted the dummy, he saw another version of himself. One he had slowly become familiar with over the past few weeks. A taller, broader Harry Potter, not the lean, scarred version of his true self.
“Blimey.” The other Harry said. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Notes:
Yay first update of the week. I'm working on Remedy or Let Me Love You for my second one - depends which one I get finished first with.
Chapter 15: A New Heart Beat
Summary:
** chapter 14&15 reworked**
A new heart beat and boarding the train
Notes:
Please reread chapter 14 as it was reworked with additional scenes added as of 8/10
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Diagon Alley was bustling, unlike the last time Harry and Hermione visited. The Hogwarts term started in two days, and everyone was doing last-minute shopping for the school year. Hermione fancied that even the air smelled of books and ink. The sky was cloudy and overcast, but that didn’t dim her excitement. Zinnia had joined them on this excursion, and it was peculiar to realize how many similarities they had.
It wasn’t just the dark, slightly messy hair on both, or even their eye color. They had similar mannerisms, and Hermione found herself very comfortable with Zinnia very quickly. She saw in Zinnia the same steadfast loyalty Harry always had to his friends.
They were in Flourish and Blott’s again, this time for textbooks, but Hermione had stopped near a leatherbound planner that caught her eye. It was charmed to organize notes written in and would vibrate to warn about an upcoming appointment.
“If you want it, love, get it,” Harry advised, amused with his wife fawning over the planner.
“It would let me plan out a schedule for studying for our N.E.W.Ts.” Both Harry and Zinnia gave her such similar dubious glances that she had to laugh.
“I er might be busy…” Zinnia hedged, trying to edge away from her.
Harry stayed right at her side as if glued at the hip. He was still uneasy from the bed-falling incident, which she privately thought was mortifying. She liked having him close, though, and it made it easy for her to stick her hand in the back pocket of his jeans, which she adored doing.
They purchased her needed texts and the journal and headed back out onto the street. Harry draped his arm casually over her shoulders, leaning to look over at the list she carried. “What else do we need?”
“Just some basic potion supplies.” Hermione tucked the list away in her satchel, and they started toward the Apothecary.
The walk would have been enjoyable except for the prickling on the back of her neck, which told her they were being watched. She knew Harry felt it by the way his arm tightened around her and his eyes darted around, taking in every detail of their surroundings.
Even his sister, who had been smiling the entire time, frowned slightly, looking around and hunched her shoulders. Harry crowded her further toward the building side, trying to keep himself between her and most of the crowd.
“This must be how Little Red Riding Hood felt.” Zinnia finally muttered, looking around.
Harry and Hermione both glanced at her. “What?” Harry asked.
“You know. The fairy tale? She got stalked by the big bad wolf.” Zinnia glanced around, missing Hermione’s flinch. “It feels weird like something’s watching — oh.” Zinnia abruptly cut off.
Harry’s head immediately snapped in the direction she had been looking. He spotted them immediately, near the owlery, half hidden by a stack of owl cages, stood Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini.
Hermione paused once she spotted them, too, but Harry pulled her along, his hand curving around her waist. “Don’t stop walking.”
Zinnia frowned but moved with them as they continued to the apothecary. “Have you spoken to them?” she asked Hermione awkwardly. She knew Hermione had been with Nott right before marrying her brother. There had to be some bad blood there if now she was married to her brother and pregnant.
Hermione shook her head, glancing at Harry briefly but not saying more. She had palmed her wand and was ready just in case there was a scene, and she knew Harry was more than ready.
Harry could feel the anticipation coil in his stomach as he kept watch on the three out of the corner of his eye. His muscles had that liquid feeling as if at any moment he could burst into fighting. He just needed Hermione and his sister out of the way first.
As they reached the apothecary, Harry ushered in his sister and Hermione first before following them. The trio by the owl cages had watched their progress but hadn’t moved.
“I want you to apparate back home. I’ll finish up the list.” Harry told Hermione quietly when his sister moved over to the aisle to look for flaxseeds.
“No, either I’m coming with you or you’re coming with me,” Hermione said firmly. “They’re there because of me, so I should be the one to talk to them.”
Harry gave her a flat look, unimpressed with her reasoning. “You’re pregnant.”
“That doesn’t mean disabled. I can still cast a hex if I need to.”
“I don’t want you with me when I talk to them.”
Hermione sighed. “I don’t think they’re going to leave us alone unless I talk to them. We were friends this time, Harry.”
“I don’t like it.”
Hermione stepped closer to him, her hand sliding around in a half hug and finding the bottom of his shirt to slide under and rest against his skin. “I know. But we shouldn’t beat up some children because they don’t understand what’s going on between us.”
Harry quite liked the dismissive way Hermione referred to Nott as a child, and the warmth of her hand on his back. “Fine, we leave then. I’ll send Posey to pick up the rest of the supplies.”
“Oh.” Hermione frowned. “I don’t want to use slave labor— “
“I happen to know my parents pay them.”
Hermione looked intrigued. “Really? That’s very progressive of them! How much do they get paid?”
“Ah, well, they negotiated for their weight in taffy.”
Hermione gave Harry a blank look. “Taffy?”
“Yes, you know the candy?”
“I know what taffy is, Harry Potter—“
A throat clearing stopped their conversation, and they looked over to see Zinnia looking at them a little bemused. “Everything okay? Are you guys ready to go?”
“We’re going to cut this short, Z. Hermione isn’t up to finishing the list.”
Hermione shot a look at Harry but agreed. “Yes, I’m very tired.” Which, a bit irritatingly for her, wasn’t exactly a lie. Napping was apparently going to be a new hobby of hers.
“I can carry you back.”
Zinnia giggled at the face Hermione made at the offer.
“I can walk.”
“Why walk when I can carry you?” He scooped her up.
Hermione looked up as if the answer to extremely overprotective husbands was there. “Harry— put me down this instant.”
Zinnia couldn’t stop glancing back at her brother and Hermione as they quietly argued with each other as they paid for their purchases. Hermione was still in Harry’s arms when they marched out to the apparition point.
Hermione’s head rested against Harry’s shoulder as he carried her exactly as he had that night they married. Zinnia had thought of many ideas on what might have caused her brother to marry Hermione Granger so precipitously. The most recent one was because of their accidental pregnancy. But seeing the way they gazed at each other, Zinnia could come to no other conclusion than that they married because they were deeply in love.
It was the exact way her father and mother looked at each other.
The obstetrician's office was quieter than Harry thought it would be, with only one other witch and wizard sitting on the other side of the room. The witch was quite a bit more pregnant than Hermione, and her husband hovered over her.
The room was painted a soft lavender, and there were pictures of flowers blowing in the breeze on the walls. Hermione sat next to him stiffly, her hands fisted in her lap.
Harry reached over, placing his hands on hers and squeezing. “Everything will be fine.”
Hermione gave him a slightly nervous smile before focusing on the door to the offices behind the waiting room. “It feels like you’ve been saying that to me a lot recently.”
“Because you like to overthink things.”
“I like planning.”
“Yes, and you’re very good at it, but maybe we can save it for later.”
Hermione gave a sheepish smile. “Don’t think I can stop.”
Harry smiled back at her gently. “Then I’ll have to think of a way to distract you, won’t I?”
Hermione gave a soft laugh at the heat in his eyes. “You’re insatiable.”
“For you, always.”
Hermione shook her head, but her smile remained, and she kept hold of Harry’s hand, relaxing slightly but only for a moment. As the door swung open, their name was called.
“Potters.”
Hermione jumped up, bringing Harry along with her and rushing after the healer who showed her into the examination room.
There was a high examination table with thin padding that Harry had to help her get on top of.
The healer smiled at them. “I’m Healer Smythe. How are you two doing today?”
Hermione gave a nervous smile. “We’re good.”
“No problems?”
“Well, I’ve been a little tired recently.” Hermione grimaced. “Oh, and I’ve been crying a bit more than usual.”
“No uncontrolled bursts of magic?”
Hermione shook her head.
“When was your last period?”
“I uh don’t remember.”
The healer paused for a second before smiling. “It’s no problem, let’s just do an exam so we can get a gestational age on the baby, okay?”
Harry and Hermione nodded, and the witch waved her wand, and the lights in the room dimmed. Then a glowing diagnostic filled the air above Hermione.
“There’s baby.” The healer murmured, looking at the display. “Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”
“Yes.” Harry and Hermione answered together in unison, clutching each other’s hands and staring at the display in awe.
A piece of the magic separated and formed lines that started to pulse like a heartbeat, and then the sound filled the room like a rapid tattoo.
“That’s the baby?” Hermione asked, her voice wavering. Hearing the heartbeat made the pregnancy seem so much more real.
Harry was staring at the pulsing display in wonder. “Our baby, love.”
“Do you want to know the gender?”
Hermione glanced at Harry, then looked toward the healer, saying tentatively, “I thought — I thought the baby might be a boy.”
The healer gave a soft laugh, “That’s right, mum. Do you feel him already then?”
A tear slipped down Hermione’s cheek. “Yes, I think so.”
“Mmmhmm. You’re just about three months now— this is when you’re going to start to see more uncontrolled bursts of magic. You have to be very careful about getting upset.”
“She’s been having nightmares, and she injured her wrist,” Harry told the healer concerned.
“How did your wrist become injured?”
Hermione nudged Harry for making her admit to the embarrassing accident to the healer. “I fell off the bed. It was a simple break - the bone repair was done immediately.”
The healer nodded. “You need to be careful with your health and body. The baby’s magic is blended with yours right now and will react even to unconscious thoughts or reactions.”
“Is it all right that she’s going to Hogwarts?” Harry asked.
“Harry, I am going to Hogwarts,” Hermione said firmly.
The healer nodded. “It's perfectly fine to attend school — although you must be careful studying for your N.E.W.Ts and not exhaust yourself. With your permission, I‘ll send all the medical results to Pomfrey at the school — she’s attended several of the conferences for healers and I know her quite well. She will provide excellent care as your pregnancy progresses. Any questions you have, she should be able to answer.”
The sound of the heartbeat was fading as the magic merged again with the main diagram.
“Now.” The healer waved her wand, dismissing the magic, and the lights in the room brightened. “I do have some potion supplements which should help with some of the tiredness. It’s important to remember you are creating a little wizard, and that’s going to place a strain on your energy levels, hormones, and magic.”
Hermione rubbed her belly. “I don’t think I could forget.”
The healer laughed. “Baby will definitely remind you.”
Harry helped Hermione get up like she was an invalid. She shot him a look, and he muttered to her. “You’re everything to me, deal with it.”
Really, how could she argue with that?
Later, as they lay in bed, Harry lowered his face near her belly, whispering something she couldn’t hear.
“What are you telling him?”
“I’m asking his opinion on Benjamin.”
“Benjamin. Ben. Benny.” Hermione thought for a second, then shook her head. “No.”
Harry sighed and lay his head down near her middle, kissing the side of her ribcage. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“I’m actually really excited for tomorrow.” Hermione paused. “And a little scared.”
“What are you scared of?”
“I don’t know really.” Hermione shrugged. “Seeing everyone again. Boarding the train. Not knowing really what relationship I have with people.”
“I’ll be right there by your side. And if anyone upsets you, I’ll hex them.”
Hermione laughed. “You can’t just go around hexing people.”
“Watch me.”
She smiled and stroked a hand slowly over her belly. “You hear that? Your father is a bit mental sometimes.”
“Don’t listen to that slander. I’m going to be a properly good father like mine was…” Harry trailed off. Sometimes the memories of the other Harry were very close, despite the partition he built in his mind, and knowledge just leaked through.
The silence stretched until Harry thought Hermione had fallen asleep, but then she spoke softly, seriously. “It was good then — this time?”
“Very good.” The Harry of this timeline had had an idyllic childhood. He hadn’t even known the Dursleys.
Hermione twisted until they were face to face on the bed. She searched his eyes, seeing the truth of it. “I’m so very glad for that, love. And now our baby will grow up with grandparents and an aunt.”
Harry laughed. “Oh god, Zinny is definitely going to be mental aunt and spoil him rotten.”
“He’s going to have such a wonderful life.”
Harry leaned forward to kiss her, whispering against her lips. “It’s a promise, love.”
The day they were to return to Hogwarts was cloudy with rain threatening. A chill wind had breezed through the occupants of Platform nine and three-quarters.
Hermione stood next to Zinnia, clutching Crookshanks’ cage, which she had refused to let anyone else carry. Zinnia was talking quietly with her parents, and Hermione couldn’t hear a word they said over the clatter and chatter of students in the air.
She knew they were talking about her from the way they glanced at her, though. Zinnia smiled at her, pushing back her wild black hair that was tied with a green ribbon matching her Slytherin uniform. The prefect badge was shiny on her chest.
Harry had already said goodbyes to his parents and taken their trunks. Now Lily and James Potter moved to her, hugging her in place of her own parents, who had still not spoken to her since asking her to leave. Lily Potter maintained her belief that they were going to reach out and would not be able to stay away from their child, but Hermione wasn’t so sure.
“Don’t forget to eat properly, and do not stress yourself. I know you’re taking your NEWTs, but you have to keep in mind the baby.” Lily said sternly, knowing how much she had put herself through a wringer trying to prepare for the test.
James, next to her, nodded. “And if you need anything—anything at all, just owl us and we’ll get it to you.”
“Thank you so much,” Hermione said sincerely. After a rocky start, she quite liked Harry’s parents. She smiled at them again and waved as she moved closer to the train, where Harry was shoveling trunks into luggage storage. Hedwig’s snowy head bobbed in her cage atop the trolley, her amber eyes tracking everything going on at the platform with keen interest. Her husband was tense as he kept a close watch on everyone near her. She knew he didn’t want her talking to any former Slytherin friends.
Harry spotted Malfoy and Nott as he made his way back to Hermione so they could find a carriage. Draco Malfoy stood far differently from Harry was used to seeing him, no smirk on his face, no smug superiority radiating from him. Instead, his lips were downturned, and there were lines of worry on his face. Beside him, Theodore Nott leaned against a luggage trolley, his gaze firmly fixed on Hermione.
“I don’t want them anywhere near you,” Harry said, his voice low and edged with steel as he reached for Hermione’s elbow.
The command in his voice made Hermione’s hackles rise, but she forced the reaction away. There were so many justified reasons for Harry to be overly protective and even jealous that she wasn’t about to spark an argument over it on the boarding platform.
“Hey mate!” Ron called, hurrying over to them. His bright red hair was plastered slightly by the damp air. He gave Hermione a quick, impersonal smile before glancing at Harry. “Train’s filling up fast — want to grab a compartment?”
Harry’s gaze flicked towards Malfoy and Nott, noting their position before nodding at Ron. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione as they started toward their train, and she kept pace with him, Crookshanks' cage bouncing lightly against her knees with each step. Hedwig gave a sharp, impatient hoot from her cage on Harry’s other side as if echoing Harry’s simmering mood. Hermione could feel Theo’s gaze lingering on her, but didn’t check to make sure.
The grayness of the day and the steam from the Hogwarts Express made everything hazy to her. Blurring faces and shadows, and that creeping sensation of being watched came again. She leaned into Harry’s embrace for a moment as they reached the steps.
“Let me take Crookshanks,” Harry said, reaching for the cage and mistaking why she leaned against him.
“No, I’ve got him.”
As they reached the steps, Zinnia ran up to them. “I’ll be in with the Slytherins in the front carriage,” She said brightly, even though her eyes darted between Harry and Hermione with a trace of concern. She’d noted her brother’s tenseness and the way he’d palmed his wand. “Don’t hex anyone before we even leave the station, okay?”
Harry grunted something that didn’t sound like an agreement, and his hand went to Hermione’s elbow to help her board. The narrow corridor was already clogged with students jostling for space, their voices echoing against the glass and wood.
They spotted Neville further along, peering outside a compartment. When he spotted them, his eyes lit up. “Over here! I got us one.”
Neville stepped back as they reached the compartment, sitting in the corner near the window while they came in. Harry guided Hermione inside, then waited for Ron to enter before shutting the door with a decisive snap.
Outside through the glass, she caught sight of movement, a flash of pale hair and a dark figure in tow. Even without seeing them clearly through the glass, she knew it was Malfoy and Nott. They paused outside their compartment, speaking in low voices she couldn’t hear.
Harry stood up, his wand clenched in his hand. Neville, taking his cue from Harry, palmed his wand and looked toward the door.
Ron didn’t move, looking bewildered; he didn’t understand the undercurrents of what was going on. “Mate, you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Harry said, moving closer to open the door.
Hermione grabbed at Harry’s hand, shaking her head, and thankfully, the shadows of the Slytherins in the glass disappeared as they moved on.
Hermione tugged Harry back down on the bench next to her. Crookshanks meowed loudly, demanding temporary freedom while they rode the train.
“Harry—“ She began in a low voice.
“I know.” He cut her off, his expression hard. He knew he was being unreasonable. He didn’t care. They weren’t getting anywhere near his wife or child.
Notes:
Yay for fixing things that wobbly headed writers don't think of
Chapter 16: Hermione is Untouchable
Summary:
Back to school! Yay! Threatening Slytherins - double yay!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry had his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, his finger tracing circles against her shoulder. He was relaxed back with his feet kicked out in what Hermione privately thought was some strange instinct all men seemed to have of wanting to take up too much space. Crookshanks was curled tightly to her other side, his tail flicking in annoyance whenever Harry shifted.
Ron and Neville seemed awkward, but they gamely tried to pretend everything was normal as they discussed the upcoming school year. It was strange having them treat her like a stranger when she had known them and gone through so much with them.
Hermione knew she was staring too hard at Neville, but she couldn’t help herself and only stopped when Harry gave her a gentle nudge on her shoulder, reminding her.
“So how are you guys going to do it, being uh married at school?” Ron asked, his cheeks turning red enough to match his hair.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“Like dorms — you’re in different houses— “
“Oh, we sorted that,” Hermione answered. “Headmistress McGonagall is opening up a marital dorm for us this year.”
Ron looked confused. “I didn’t even know they had those.”
“I remember,” Neville said quietly. “Wasn’t in Hogwarts: A History? They went out of use, though — I thought they were removed?”
“They still exist, and McGonagall is having them cleaned for us.” Harry gave Hermione a squeeze and a playful smile. “I need to keep this one in my sight. She’s trouble.”
Hermione laughed. “Look who’s talking.”
Ron’s eyes darted between them, interestedly noting their ease with each other that seemed a little unusual considering how recently they had gotten together. “But still, what about being headboy and girl? “
Hermione gave a wry smile, thinking of how much she had wanted that title at one time. “We already sent our decline for the position, along with notifying her of our marriage.”
“If I know McGonagall, that’s probably what she’s going to talk to us about in that meeting she wanted. That and probably warning us off snogging in front of the younger years.” Harry pulled Hermione back until she was leaning against him again.
“Which we are most definitely not going to be doing,” Hermione said, eyeing Harry warningly, who gave a shrug that said he thought otherwise.
“I think, given that you two were just married, McGonagall would understand you have other things on your mind,” Neville said, still a little taken aback by the whole situation. One of his best mates married at seventeen. Given how Harry behaved with girls, he would have never thought.
Harry looked at Hermione, meeting her eyes. Easily, his thoughts merged with hers. We haven’t told them about the pregnancy.
Now? Hermione’s eyes widened. This really didn’t seem the appropriate moment.
Harry shrugged. Someone is going to find out eventually. With Pomfrey notified, that means McGonagall knows. I’d say Zinnia knows how to keep her mouth shut, but with the professors notified, it’s just a matter of time until everyone knows.
Hermione gave a little sigh of defeat. She knew people were already going to treat her strangely, and this was going to add another layer to that. She nodded, turning back to look at Ron and Neville.
“We have something else we need to tell you before we get to Hogwarts,” Harry said, looking toward Neville and Ron.
“Gods, Zinnia isn’t getting married, too, is she?” Neville blurted out, then turned tomato red in the silence that followed.
Harry’s brows rose, and he caught Ron’s gaze. Neville had a crush on Zinnia. He didn’t know how he had missed that. “No, mate, it’s about Hermione and me.” Harry hugged her close, ignoring Crookshank’s irritated growl from her other side. “We’re expecting a baby.”
“What?” Neville squawked, his eyes widening comically as he seemed to lose balance while sitting down.
Ron, on the other hand, looked intrigued. “On what date exactly did you two— “
“Ronald Bilius Weasley!” Hermione cut him off sharply.
Ron blinked, not looking at all abashed. “How did you know my middle name?”
Hermione floundered, and Harry stepped in smoothly. “She knows everything, mate.” He added in a teasing voice. “And she’s always right.”
“Wow, congratulations.” Neville gave them a weak smile.
Harry leaned down and nuzzled Hermione against her cheek, making her smile. He wasn’t at all put off by the lackluster response from his mates. He had his wife and now they were having a baby.
Ron finally leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “Blimey. Married and a baby on the way before you even got through your N.E.W.Ts. You don’t mess about once you make your move, eh mate?”
Harry gave a satisfied smirk while Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, Ron gave all the credit to Harry as if she had been following along with Harry’s lead.
“The time was right,” Harry answered, giving a soft grunt when Hermione elbowed him for the joke.
Not funny. She mouthed at him.
Neville scratched the back of his neck. “So… you’ll be parents by the time exams come around?”
Hermione gave a rueful nod. “We’re due in February. From what I’ve read, not every witch experiences morning sickness, so I’m hoping I’m one of the lucky ones and it doesn’t interfere too much with my revision schedule.”
Harry patted her tummy. “I’m sure Sammy will be considerate.”
“No,” Hermione told Harry, taking his hand away from her tummy.
“Picky.”
“Definitely.” Hermione smiled and gave him a peck on the chin.
Ron looked between the two of them curiously. “I know there’s no way Harry hid the relationship from me, but you two act like you’ve been together forever already.“
“Just meant to be,” Hermione answered, laying her hand possessively on Harry’s thigh.
Ron waggled his eyebrows at them. “You know, if you need a name for the little sprog, you could always name him Ron. It’s a magnificent name, you know.”
Everyone cracked up while Ron grinned at them gleefully. The thought of his best mate having a kid was weird, but he was getting used to it. And the fact that he could see how much they loved each other despite the shortness of their relationship was intensely relieving as he had been worried about what the hell Harry had been up to.
“We could call him little Ron and then you’d have to share your sandwiches with him.” Hermione teased, and Ron’s mouth dropped open.
“What? But you could just order more sandwiches if he’s hungry.”
Harry gave Hermione another squeeze, ignoring Crookshanks’ offended huff. “No, to little Ron.”
Hermione’s stomach dropped in trepidation when the train slowed and they heard the squeal of brakes as the train pulled into the Hogsmeade platform. In the easy camaraderie with Ron and Neville, she had managed to put the Slytherins out of her mind, and now she tensed again, worried how Harry would react if one of them tried to approach her.
Students spilled out of the train in a rush of chatter and laughter, a contrast to her and Harry being more subdued. Lanterns glowed against the darkening sky, guiding students toward the line of carriages waiting patiently.
Harry kept his hand looped securely around Hermione while he carried his luggage with his free hand. She didn’t protest and instead leaned into him with Crookshanks balanced sulkily in her arms, silently judging them all.
Ron had been talking animatedly to Neville before he gave a short, shrill scream, pointing at the skeletal forms of the thestrals pawing the ground. “What the bloody hell —“
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” A soft voice asked from behind them.
“No. Hell no. What the hell, why am I seeing them?” Ron stared at the Thestrals, gobsmacked.
Hermione turned and met Luna’s knowing gaze. Luna gave a cheerful smile before stepping around them and petting the threstrals, who immediately nuzzled her hair.
Ron, meanwhile, hadn’t moved, still frozen with his mouth open. “I just don’t understand why…”
Harry gave Hermione a grim glance. There was still something of the Ron who had battled with them in this timeline’s Ron.
“C’mon, mate, we got to load up our trunks.” Harry gave Ron a rough nudge to get him moving.
“Yeah…. Yeah.” Ron walked dazedly toward the carriages, his eyes darting to the Threstrals every few seconds.
Hermione followed closely, Crookshanks bristling in her arms. Her gaze swept the platform, and immediately it landed on Theo and Draco, a carriage away on the opposite side. Theo’s piercing blue gaze seemed to burn into her, and she stiffened instinctively. Crookshanks let out a low growl, the fur along his back rising in tandem with her own tension.
Harry, sensing it immediately, scanned the platform with sharp eyes, instinctively locking onto the Slytherins. Harry leaned close to her, his fingers brushing her tense back. “Relax, love.”
Hermione bit her lip. “I don’t want a scene, Harry.”
Harry’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “I won’t make a scene here, I promise. And if they do… well… I’ll put a stop to it.”
Hermione could hear the eagerness in his voice and reached out to grasp his sleeve. “They’re just kids, Harry.”
“So are we. I just turned seventeen, didn’t you know?”
“Harry James.”
“Fine.” Harry shot one last glance their way before turning away to their own carriage.
Neville was assisting a wide-eyed Ron. “C’mon, mate, they can’t be that bad. Luna’s always liked them.”
“Looney— “ Ron broke off, blushing before muttering an apology to Hermione. “Look, those things are going to haunt my nightmares. Why can I see them? This is unnatural.”
“You get used to it,” Harry told him, prodding him along, wanting to get his wife out of sight of the Slytherins.
“Used to it? Never.” Ron muttered climbing into the carriage.
Hermione let out a huff of laughter. She remembered how shockingly otherworldly thestrals had been the first time she had been able to see them. Harry helped her up into the carriage before sliding in beside her, close enough that he could brace her each time the carriage lurched.
Harry sat next to her, relaxed, a smile on his face as he listened to Ron and Neville, but Hermione could feel the battle readiness in him. She could only hope that the Slytherins valued their necks and kept out of their way.
As the carriages came to a gentle halt at the castle gates, students spilled onto the cobblestones.
The group walked toward the Great Hall, and their trunks vanished behind them as the house elves organized them. Crookshanks let out a plaintive yowl as he was also taken to the dorms.
Ron and Neville were a step behind them with Ron still muttering about thestrals and how ugly they were while Neville listened with his brows knit, also trying to figure out why Ron could suddenly see them.
The massive doors of the Great Hall were flung wide, and torches shone brightly from the stone walls. Inside the hall, the ceiling mirrored the night sky, stars twinkling faintly as students began to fill the benches.
Hermione gave one glance towards the Ravenclaw table before following Harry without a pause towards the Gryffindors. She didn’t bother to look toward the Slytherin table, but she could feel Theo and Draco’s eyes tracking her, and could sense their whispers as they plotted.
“Harry!” A high-pitched voice made Hermione startle, and they looked to see Zinnia rushing toward them before leaning over to whisper something in her brother’s ear.
Harry nodded, and she slipped him something discreetly before walking back toward the Slytherin table.
Hermione leaned toward Harry. “What was that?”
“Zinnia usually keeps the map, but I asked to borrow it so we could start visiting the restricted section.” Harry reached for a goblet at the table, filling a drink for Hermione.
Hermione gave him a small smile. She knew her husband. He had other plans for that map.
“Harry— “ She began again, trying to get him to agree to leave the Slytherins alone when
“Harrreeeeeey.” A voice said flirtatiously, and a curvy brunette bounced her way in front of Harry. “Say it’s not true! You’re not married, are you?”
Harry froze, and the pitcher he had just used for Hermione’s drink leapt from the table, smacking the girl squarely on the head. She gave a startled shriek and turned red, although the damage was mostly wet robes and damp hair.
Ignoring the exclamations around them, Harry whispered in Hermione’s ear, “They’re just kids, remember?”
Hermione’s jaw tightened. Mandy Brocklehurst, she reminded herself of the brunette's name. She recalled in vivid detail seeing Mandy and Harry snogging in the corridor before ducking into a broom closet in the fifth year of this time line. They both ignored Mandy stomping away.
“You’ve practically shagged half the school!” Hermione gritted, trying purposely to ignore the knowledge she had of this timeline and Harry's exploits.
“The other half were boys,” Harry blurted, and winced as steam practically radiated off his wife. He changed course immediately. “Hermione, you know that wasn’t me.”
Hermione shot him a scorching glare, opening her mouth to respond—but Headmistress McGonagall’s clear, commanding voice rang out across the hall, announcing the start of the Sorting Ceremony. Hermione folded her arms, forcing herself to look forward as the first-years lined up, her simmering irritation set aside for the moment.
Under the table, Harry’s hand reached for hers, squeezing it, and Hermione let out a sigh. She needed to get past the instant scorching anger that consumed her as soon as those memories popped into her head. She just couldn’t stand the fact that Harry had in fact, dated quite a few witches during his six years at Hogwarts, though none for any length of time.
She felt the push of her husband’s magic as he slowly merged it with hers, and his love came through strongly in the connection. Her belly fluttered, and she placed a hand over their child.
It was fine. They were adults and could handle it. They’d handled a war after all, right?
Harry stroked Hermione’s hair as they lay in bed together. She had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the journey and the tension of the day. The meeting with McGonagall had gone well, and their schedules matched, and as Harry thought, she had sternly warned them about snogging in front of the other students.
Hermione was curled against him with one arm draped across his chest, and she radiated a quiet warmth. Crookshanks was nestled at her feet, eyes half-closed, tail flicking occasionally as if he understood Harry’s intentions.
Harry didn’t know if it was his imagination or the pregnancy, but Hermione seemed to glow as she lay there sleeping. Her features relaxed and her lips slightly parted, her curls fanned out wildly.
Harry studied her for a long moment, noting the subtle glow of her features—relaxed lips, curls fanned across the pillow. He hated the thought of leaving her even briefly, but Theo Nott needed a clear warning before the first classes began.
Harry eased himself out of bed, slowly moving her arm off him, careful not to wake her. Crookshanks blinked at him, his tail flicking, but didn’t make a sound. Harry dressed quickly and quietly, pulling on his robe and tucking his wand into his sleeve as he grabbed the map and his cloak.
Quiet as a shadow, he slipped from the marital dorm they had been provided and began to make his way down to the dungeons. The castle corridors were hushed, and he had already looked at the Marauders’ map to make sure his path was unimpeded. Apparently, no one expected trouble on the first night back.
He wasn’t going to kill Nott— not yet, at least— but he wanted the boy to be absolutely clear on the mortal danger of pursuing his wife. Hermione was untouchable.
He found the Slytherin common room entrance and paused, throwing the cloak over himself, his wand ready. His sister had given him the password without a thought earlier in the evening, along with the map, not questioning him.
Harry slipped into the room, his face lifted as he breathed deeply, pulling on his animagus heightened sense of smell. His nose twitched, and he turned toward the boy’s dormitories, where he could smell Nott.
Before approaching Nott’s bed, he cast privacy charms all around the bed and other occupants of the room. No matter how much Nott screamed, they were not going to wake up.
“Incarcerous.” The chains snapped around Nott, jolting him awake.
“Potter!” Theo yelled, struggling. “How did you get in here?”
Harry watched him impassively, waiting until he quieted down. He leaned forward once Nott was quiet. “They’re not going to hear you, no matter how much you scream.”
The boy blinked, and fear crept into his expression. “What are you going to do? You won’t get away with this — even with your father— ”
Harry laughed, his eyes gleaming, and the boy’s mouth snapped shut at the sight. “If I need to put you into the ground, Nott, no one would ever find you. And no one would ever know it was me.”
Nott’s mouth twisted, fear and anger blending. “You’re mental, Potter and Hermione deserves better than you.”
“On that we agree. But you are not that person, and you never will be that person. I want you to stay away from my wife. You don’t look at her. You don’t talk about her. You don’t even think about her.” The threat of death shone from Harry’s face and the icy set of his jaw.
Theo’s mouth tightened, and Harry grabbed the boy’s jaw harshly, digging his fingers into the skin. Finally, the boy looked away, his entire body tense as he submitted. “I understand.”
Harry kept hold of him for a heartbeat longer, his eyes lingering on him dangerously. Finally, he nodded, letting Theo go. He turned his back on the boy, waving his hand easily to dismiss the chains, not worried about an attack from the back.
He would welcome it.
No one bothered him as he left the Slytherin dorms, the common room still deserted at the late hour. Nott must have thought better than even alerting his housemates because Harry’s perked ears didn’t hear a sound.
He glanced at the map as he exited and found the corridors still deserted as he made his way quickly back to Hermione. He found her as he left her, curled on her side with Crookshanks at her feet. Hermione shifted as he entered, murmuring something in her sleep, and he smiled softly.
Harry climbed back into bed, pulling Hermione close, enjoying the familiar warmth of her against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I love you.” He whispered.
Notes:
IDK random reminder it's just me writing. I don't have a beta, so be nice please. I think eventually I'm going write another version of this story where only Harry remembers the original time line.
Also I've been super distracted recently watching some Cdrama's - oh my lord i watched the first episode of Stolen Love and got shook. I guess I got used to how conservative asian drama's normally are with intimacy and OMG -- well IYKYK and if you don't know AND you watch cdramas -- I definitely recommend it because it was HOT🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
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