Title: After Happily Ever After (4/?)
Author:![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Hermione
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Length/Word Count: Chaptered, 3113 words (this part)
Summary: Thirty-two years later...
Warnings: DH Spoilers, Epilogue compliant
Notes: This fic started out from a prompt forrandom_loves Birthday. She requested Harry and Hermione falling in love at age 50/51. Not an affair. Special thanks to quite_grey for the beta! Any remaining mistakes belong to me. Comments and Concrit are welcome and greatly appreciated! Also, for easier browsing I've added a tag for this fic: ahea. If you click on that, all chapters will come up together.
Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters that I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world that I didn't create. No copyright infringement intended, no money's being made.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
After Happily Ever After
Part 4
Hermione ran a brush through her hair, a small frown reflecting back from the mirror. Crinkles decorated each corner of her eyes; short lines were permanently etched around her lips regardless of her expression, and there was even a small dent between her brows, carved out by worries and tangled thoughts over the years. Grey blended with brown curls at each stroke of her brush highlighting skin no longer taut across her cheek bones, and if she lifted her chin she could see the faint rings around her neck just in case it wasn’t obvious how old she was from her face.
It wasn’t fair. Men grew distinguished with each year that passed; women simply grew old. Harry was the perfect example. His grey wasn’t grey, but a striking silver along his temples; his only wrinkles came in lines of smiles and laughter, boyish and playful, oddly reminiscent of a childhood he’d never had. When Harry smiled there was no trace of the worry that had gone before. But Hermione couldn’t begrudge him that; he still had one permanent mark on his forehead forever reminding him of the terror that was his childhood, that was all their childhoods, and how hard they’d all fought for the peace that existed in the Wizarding World today. Hermione was glad their children would never have to experience that nightmare.
Still Harry wouldn’t have any trouble attracting another lover if he wished, even without the fame that lingered from being the Boy Who Lived. Hermione had long ago resigned herself to being alone. She could have stayed with Ron in a loveless marriage, but their happiness had been more important than simply making do so she would have someone to grow old with. She still had her kids and her friendship with Harry and Ron, and really that was all that mattered.
But for the first time, Hermione had an inkling of sympathy for Ginny. As she watched her own reflection in the mirror, she understood where those heated words had come from, the words that Harry had repeated to Hermione over a month ago. That Ginny had feared it was too late for her to find someone else. And despite the fact that Hermione knew Ginny was more vivacious than her and as strong as Hermione ever was, Ginny had never been good at being alone.
Hermione banished her maudlin thoughts away and tied her hair back in a messy bun, stray curls escaping her fingers. She didn’t know why she was taking so long in getting ready in the first place, and if she dallied too much longer, she’d be late to meet Harry.
***
The front door to Grimmauld Place swung open before Hermione even had a chance to knock leading her to suspect that the wards were tuned to announce visitors as soon as they arrived. She found herself looking up into a familiar face, though much younger than the one she’d been expecting.
“Aunt Hermione, hi.” Al smiled shyly, and though he was a man of twenty-four, he was as reserved and polite as he’d been as a child. He was the very image of his father at that age, messy black hair and bright green eyes, though he was missing the spectacles and the scar. “Dad’s upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute.”
Al stepped back to let her through, and immediately Hermione was distracted by the transformation of the entrance hall. The walls were bleached white, the umbrella stand made out of a troll’s leg was nowhere to be found, and the canvas that housed Mrs. Black was boarded over.
“Permanent silencing charm,” Al said as if sensing her thoughts. “Dad wanted to move her but…”
“He still hasn’t found a way around the permanent sticking charm,” Hermione murmured, instantly curious as to how he’d managed to extend the power of Silencio. She unclasped her cloak and Al came forward without prompting to help her shrug out of it, then hung it up on the simple wooden coat rack by the front door.
“Are you helping him out today?”
“Yeah, just this morning.”
“It’s all right with me if you’d like to stay for lunch,” Hermione said warmly.
Al shrugged and glanced at the floor, and once again Hermione was struck by just how like his father Al was, even if clearly he had learned his manners from another source.
He opened his mouth to answer, but just then Harry came bounding down the stairs. His jeans were covered with white paint and there was a layer of sawdust over his hair. That coupled with his playful grin made it hard for Hermione to believe that he was old enough to be Al’s father.
“Hermione, you were almost late.” Harry smiled broadly despite his teasing tone, and Hermione’s lips turned up in a crooked grin.
“But the important thing is that I’m not.”
“No, couldn’t have that.” Harry reached the foyer and ruffled Al’s hair; Al rolled his eyes as if he was too old for that sort of treatment, but he didn’t move away. “Do you want the tour first before we eat?”
“All right. Al was just telling me about the portrait.”
“I guess I need to get going,” Al said, and Harry’s smile faded as Al moved to grab his jacket. He slipped it over his shoulders, his cheeks pink when he turned to meet his father's gaze again.
"I don't have to go-" Al started to say, but Harry cut him off with a squeeze of his shoulder.
"Yeah, you do. You should." Harry turned fully toward his son, and Hermione took a step back and averted her eyes, feeling very much like she was invading a private family moment.
Harry's voice dropped low, though still strong and firm. "None of this is your fault. You know that right?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"It's not your mum's fault either, and I'm sure she could use some support right now. Your sister, too."
"But Lily's being such a pigheaded-"
"Al-" Harry cut Al off with a warning tone. "Don't be mad at Lily. And don't be mad at your mum either."
"All right," Al mumbled, but his tone turned hopeful the next moment. "I can come back for dinner if you want."
"I'll be back at Hermione's tonight, but I'm sure it would be fine if you stopped by."
Hermione looked up at the mention of her name and found a pair of matching gazes meeting her own.
"Of course, Al. You're always welcome to come by. Anytime."
Al nodded, and with another hug to his dad and a quick goodbye to Hermione, he left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Harry sagged with a small sigh.
"How's he doing?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"Oh, all right, I guess." Harry shrugged. "I wish he wouldn't blame Ginny so much, but I suppose that will only get better with time."
Privately Hermione thought that Ginny was the one making the divorce so hard on her family, but Hermione knew better than to voice the thought aloud. Instead she put on a bright smile and said, "How about that tour, then?"
"Yeah—yeah, come on." Harry ran a hand through his hair and gestured toward the stairs.
Harry had been busy the last month or so, Hermione saw, and he'd gotten a lot accomplished. Originally she hadn't been pleased when she'd found out that he'd taken a leave from work, especially without telling her, and she'd assumed that he'd been moping away his days, but it turned out that he'd been here the whole time, working on Grimmauld Place.
Harry had the entrance way and two whole floors cleaned out and painted white, not that he planned on keeping it that way. He explained that he just wanted to start over with a blank slate and brighten the place up a bit before he figured out how he wanted to redecorate. Hermione couldn't believe that within the redone rooms, there was no trace of how oppressive the house used to be. Everything had been cleansed. The house was getting a new start, and Hermione smiled to herself. It seemed like just what Harry needed.
"It's just so much space," Harry said as they walked back down the stairs after the tour. "I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with it all. It's not like the kids need a place to stay or anything."
"Well, you can always make up a couple of rooms for them if they ever need it. Rose had to move in with Ron and Luna for a bit once after she left Hogwarts," Hermione said, glancing at Harry with a small smile. "And this way they can come stay with you for holidays and such, if you want."
"Yeah, that would be nice." Harry returned her smile a bit shyly. "And if you wanted, you could use the library."
They headed down toward the kitchen and Hermione looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"What am I going to do with a library? All those books—I don't even know if they're worth keeping around. And I know you don't have enough room at your flat for your collection."
"Harry-"
"Oh no, Hermione—I've seen your bedroom," Harry teased. "You've got stacks of books piled around your bed. Don't know how you stand it."
"I manage. Really, I couldn't impose-"
"You wouldn't be imposing," Harry said, laying a hand on her forearm. "I offered. I've got more space than I know what to do with. Just think on it, all right? It's not like you couldn't come over anytime once I move in."
Hermione swallowed back another objection in the wake of the warmth flooding her stomach. "I'll think on it. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't." Harry's eyes sparkled as their gazes met again but it only lasted for a moment before he headed toward the small fridge at the corner of the kitchen. "I made some sandwiches earlier for us if that's all right for you?"
"Yeah, perfect."
Hermione set the table as Harry got out the plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for them to share, and they sat down to eat. Harry met Hermione's gaze across the table, and Hermione flushed as she realised she'd been staring.
"What?" Harry cocked his head.
"Oh, nothing—it's just, you look really good."
"Oh, really?" Harry's eyes twinkled and Hermione's cheeks went scarlet.
"I didn't mean that-"
"So I don't look good, then?"
"Oh, stop it." Hermione shook her head and attempted to hide behind her sandwich.
Harry grinned. "Stop what?"
"I simply meant you looked happy." Hermione gestured to the room and tried to ignore how hot her face was. "This kind of work must agree with you."
"Yeah," Harry nodded and Hermione let out a breath of relief. "It's been surprising, but yeah—I've enjoyed working on the house. You won't have to put up with me much longer."
"You haven't been a bother," Hermione said. She took a sip of pumpkin juice, then she pursed her lips. "And there's no need to rush—you still have a lot of work to do."
"Oh yeah, I know I've got a ways to go, but it mainly just needs to be livable for me to move in. It shouldn't be much longer now. Maybe a couple of weeks."
"Oh." Hermione's stomach sank, but she didn't know why. She should be happy that Harry was moving on, and it wasn't like she wouldn't ever see him again once he was living full time at Grimmauld Place.
She took a bite of her sandwich and pushed her uneasiness away. "Do you think you'll go back to work soon?"
"I'm not sure." Harry was still looking at Hermione but his gaze seemed to drift and his forehead crinkled. "I don't know if I want to be an Auror anymore."
"I'm sure you could always apply to be Head of the Department again," Hermione said, but Harry shook his head before she finished speaking.
"No, no. I definitely don't want that."
"Why not?"
"Same reason why I stepped down in the first place," Harry said and he took a swallow of pumpkin juice as Hermione gave him a look. "What? I never told you?"
Hermione shook her head with a wry smile.
"Oh—it was because Lily was coming up in the program. It was hard enough to assign Ron cases sometimes, even when I knew I never gave him anything he couldn't handle, but it was Ron, and I couldn't go with him and be his partner, and the thought of doing the same with Lily—she's my daughter." Harry glanced at his plate. "I knew I wouldn't be able to handle that."
"You could always assign her cases that wouldn't be so dangerous," Hermione said, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was a bad suggestion. Harry's scoff confirmed it.
"Right. Have you met my daughter?" Harry shook his head and chuckled lightly. "I swear, her temper's worse than Ginny's and if she even thought for a moment I was showing her favouritism or trying to protect her-" Harry looked at Hermione. "Well, what would you do if you were an Auror and I kept passing you up for cases that I thought were too dangerous?"
"I see your point," Hermione said, knowing full well the answer: she would have marched into his office, given him a piece of her mind, then slapped him for good measure.
Hermione was glad she'd never decided to become an Auror.
"So why don't you want to go back to at least working in the field? You loved being an Auror."
"I know, but I'm not so sure…Lily's just starting out, and maybe it would be better for her if her dad wasn't around."
"I'm sure she doesn't feel that way."
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Right now, I'm pretty sure she does. She's not speaking to me at the moment."
"Oh," Hermione said, and then Al's conversation with Harry earlier started to make more sense. "Lily blames you."
"Yeah," Harry said, and he toyed with the crusts of his sandwich. "And Al blames Ginny. I think James is just…disappointed."
Harry stood up to clear the dishes and Hermione rose to help, but Harry waved her off.
"It'll get better," Hermione said. Harry headed toward the sink, his back to her. "Rose and Hugo had a hard time at first—they were younger, but still old enough to understand what was going on, and they got through it."
"Sometimes I think," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if I'm doing the right thing…if I shouldn't have just-"
"Oh, Harry." Hermione flew to Harry's side at the counter and reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "No. You weren't happy."
Harry turned to face her, his green eyes shining with something that Hermione didn't recognise; her breath caught.
"You don't regret it? Ever?"
"No." Hermione shook her head, though her gaze never left his. "You're doing the right thing. You deserve to be happy."
"I don't know," Harry said, and somehow Hermione expected him to look away, but he didn't. His eyes searched hers and Hermione knew she was an open book to Harry. She never could hide anything from him, not from the first moment she'd met him forty years ago.
"Well I do," she whispered. Harry smiled suddenly, and automatically her lips curved to match his.
"You always were a know-it-all."
Harry brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles and Hermione let out a nervous laugh. She was having trouble catching her breath, and Harry seemed too close, like maybe he was moving closer or pulling her closer, and his other hand was on her waist, and she wasn't sure when that had happened. She tightened her grip on his shoulder; suddenly her knees couldn't support her weight and she thought that she might fall, that the only reason she was still upright was because Harry slid his arm around her back and all she could see was his lips and his green eyes penetrating hers, and she held her breath; his tongue darted out over his lips and then-
A chime rang through Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Harry both jumped back at the same time, and Hermione immediately grabbed the counter top, breathing rapidly.
"What was that?"
"Someone's on the stoop." Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair and it was a comfort to know that he seemed just as jittery as she felt. She wasn't exactly sure if she'd meant her question to be about the chime, but she was relieved that Harry had interpreted it that way.
And sure enough, whoever was on the stoop knocked on the front door a moment later.
"I'll just go see who it is," Harry said, and Hermione barely had a chance to nod before Harry left the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, she sank into the nearest chair and let out a ragged breath.
What was that, indeed.
She took another deep breath as she heard the front door open. She tried to get a hold of herself, and quickly at that, but her body thrummed with adrenaline and her thoughts were whirling too fast for any of them to make any sense. And before she could even try she recognised the deep rumbling voice greeting Harry.
It was Ron.
Hermione bolted from the chair and headed down the hallway.
"…told me you might be here."
"Oh yeah, Hermione and I were just-"
"Having lunch," Hermione interrupted, slightly breathless, and her cheeks burned as Harry turned to look at her. Hermione chose to look at Ron instead. "Harry was showing me the progress he's made—it's quite a difference in here, don't you think?"
Hermione was already heading over to grab her cloak before either Ron or Harry had a chance to answer.
"I should go though. I've got some errands to run," Hermione said, pulling the cloak around her. "And you two should talk."
She met Harry's eyes for a split second before looking down to fiddle with her clasp.
"All right," Harry said, his voice hesitant. "I'll see you later on at your flat, then?"
"Yes, and Al, too, if he stops by. Good to see you, Ron." Hermione risked one more glance at Harry before she gave Ron a quick smile and headed outside.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Hermione leaned against it and closed her eyes with a sigh.
-tbc-
Shelly's fic index
Author:
sdkFandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Harry/Hermione
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Length/Word Count: Chaptered, 3113 words (this part)
Summary: Thirty-two years later...
Warnings: DH Spoilers, Epilogue compliant
Notes: This fic started out from a prompt for
random_loves Birthday. She requested Harry and Hermione falling in love at age 50/51. Not an affair. Special thanks to quite_grey for the beta! Any remaining mistakes belong to me. Comments and Concrit are welcome and greatly appreciated! Also, for easier browsing I've added a tag for this fic: ahea. If you click on that, all chapters will come up together. Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters that I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world that I didn't create. No copyright infringement intended, no money's being made.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
After Happily Ever After
Part 4
Hermione ran a brush through her hair, a small frown reflecting back from the mirror. Crinkles decorated each corner of her eyes; short lines were permanently etched around her lips regardless of her expression, and there was even a small dent between her brows, carved out by worries and tangled thoughts over the years. Grey blended with brown curls at each stroke of her brush highlighting skin no longer taut across her cheek bones, and if she lifted her chin she could see the faint rings around her neck just in case it wasn’t obvious how old she was from her face.
It wasn’t fair. Men grew distinguished with each year that passed; women simply grew old. Harry was the perfect example. His grey wasn’t grey, but a striking silver along his temples; his only wrinkles came in lines of smiles and laughter, boyish and playful, oddly reminiscent of a childhood he’d never had. When Harry smiled there was no trace of the worry that had gone before. But Hermione couldn’t begrudge him that; he still had one permanent mark on his forehead forever reminding him of the terror that was his childhood, that was all their childhoods, and how hard they’d all fought for the peace that existed in the Wizarding World today. Hermione was glad their children would never have to experience that nightmare.
Still Harry wouldn’t have any trouble attracting another lover if he wished, even without the fame that lingered from being the Boy Who Lived. Hermione had long ago resigned herself to being alone. She could have stayed with Ron in a loveless marriage, but their happiness had been more important than simply making do so she would have someone to grow old with. She still had her kids and her friendship with Harry and Ron, and really that was all that mattered.
But for the first time, Hermione had an inkling of sympathy for Ginny. As she watched her own reflection in the mirror, she understood where those heated words had come from, the words that Harry had repeated to Hermione over a month ago. That Ginny had feared it was too late for her to find someone else. And despite the fact that Hermione knew Ginny was more vivacious than her and as strong as Hermione ever was, Ginny had never been good at being alone.
Hermione banished her maudlin thoughts away and tied her hair back in a messy bun, stray curls escaping her fingers. She didn’t know why she was taking so long in getting ready in the first place, and if she dallied too much longer, she’d be late to meet Harry.
***
The front door to Grimmauld Place swung open before Hermione even had a chance to knock leading her to suspect that the wards were tuned to announce visitors as soon as they arrived. She found herself looking up into a familiar face, though much younger than the one she’d been expecting.
“Aunt Hermione, hi.” Al smiled shyly, and though he was a man of twenty-four, he was as reserved and polite as he’d been as a child. He was the very image of his father at that age, messy black hair and bright green eyes, though he was missing the spectacles and the scar. “Dad’s upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute.”
Al stepped back to let her through, and immediately Hermione was distracted by the transformation of the entrance hall. The walls were bleached white, the umbrella stand made out of a troll’s leg was nowhere to be found, and the canvas that housed Mrs. Black was boarded over.
“Permanent silencing charm,” Al said as if sensing her thoughts. “Dad wanted to move her but…”
“He still hasn’t found a way around the permanent sticking charm,” Hermione murmured, instantly curious as to how he’d managed to extend the power of Silencio. She unclasped her cloak and Al came forward without prompting to help her shrug out of it, then hung it up on the simple wooden coat rack by the front door.
“Are you helping him out today?”
“Yeah, just this morning.”
“It’s all right with me if you’d like to stay for lunch,” Hermione said warmly.
Al shrugged and glanced at the floor, and once again Hermione was struck by just how like his father Al was, even if clearly he had learned his manners from another source.
He opened his mouth to answer, but just then Harry came bounding down the stairs. His jeans were covered with white paint and there was a layer of sawdust over his hair. That coupled with his playful grin made it hard for Hermione to believe that he was old enough to be Al’s father.
“Hermione, you were almost late.” Harry smiled broadly despite his teasing tone, and Hermione’s lips turned up in a crooked grin.
“But the important thing is that I’m not.”
“No, couldn’t have that.” Harry reached the foyer and ruffled Al’s hair; Al rolled his eyes as if he was too old for that sort of treatment, but he didn’t move away. “Do you want the tour first before we eat?”
“All right. Al was just telling me about the portrait.”
“I guess I need to get going,” Al said, and Harry’s smile faded as Al moved to grab his jacket. He slipped it over his shoulders, his cheeks pink when he turned to meet his father's gaze again.
"I don't have to go-" Al started to say, but Harry cut him off with a squeeze of his shoulder.
"Yeah, you do. You should." Harry turned fully toward his son, and Hermione took a step back and averted her eyes, feeling very much like she was invading a private family moment.
Harry's voice dropped low, though still strong and firm. "None of this is your fault. You know that right?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"It's not your mum's fault either, and I'm sure she could use some support right now. Your sister, too."
"But Lily's being such a pigheaded-"
"Al-" Harry cut Al off with a warning tone. "Don't be mad at Lily. And don't be mad at your mum either."
"All right," Al mumbled, but his tone turned hopeful the next moment. "I can come back for dinner if you want."
"I'll be back at Hermione's tonight, but I'm sure it would be fine if you stopped by."
Hermione looked up at the mention of her name and found a pair of matching gazes meeting her own.
"Of course, Al. You're always welcome to come by. Anytime."
Al nodded, and with another hug to his dad and a quick goodbye to Hermione, he left. As soon as the door closed behind him, Harry sagged with a small sigh.
"How's he doing?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"Oh, all right, I guess." Harry shrugged. "I wish he wouldn't blame Ginny so much, but I suppose that will only get better with time."
Privately Hermione thought that Ginny was the one making the divorce so hard on her family, but Hermione knew better than to voice the thought aloud. Instead she put on a bright smile and said, "How about that tour, then?"
"Yeah—yeah, come on." Harry ran a hand through his hair and gestured toward the stairs.
Harry had been busy the last month or so, Hermione saw, and he'd gotten a lot accomplished. Originally she hadn't been pleased when she'd found out that he'd taken a leave from work, especially without telling her, and she'd assumed that he'd been moping away his days, but it turned out that he'd been here the whole time, working on Grimmauld Place.
Harry had the entrance way and two whole floors cleaned out and painted white, not that he planned on keeping it that way. He explained that he just wanted to start over with a blank slate and brighten the place up a bit before he figured out how he wanted to redecorate. Hermione couldn't believe that within the redone rooms, there was no trace of how oppressive the house used to be. Everything had been cleansed. The house was getting a new start, and Hermione smiled to herself. It seemed like just what Harry needed.
"It's just so much space," Harry said as they walked back down the stairs after the tour. "I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with it all. It's not like the kids need a place to stay or anything."
"Well, you can always make up a couple of rooms for them if they ever need it. Rose had to move in with Ron and Luna for a bit once after she left Hogwarts," Hermione said, glancing at Harry with a small smile. "And this way they can come stay with you for holidays and such, if you want."
"Yeah, that would be nice." Harry returned her smile a bit shyly. "And if you wanted, you could use the library."
They headed down toward the kitchen and Hermione looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"What am I going to do with a library? All those books—I don't even know if they're worth keeping around. And I know you don't have enough room at your flat for your collection."
"Harry-"
"Oh no, Hermione—I've seen your bedroom," Harry teased. "You've got stacks of books piled around your bed. Don't know how you stand it."
"I manage. Really, I couldn't impose-"
"You wouldn't be imposing," Harry said, laying a hand on her forearm. "I offered. I've got more space than I know what to do with. Just think on it, all right? It's not like you couldn't come over anytime once I move in."
Hermione swallowed back another objection in the wake of the warmth flooding her stomach. "I'll think on it. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't." Harry's eyes sparkled as their gazes met again but it only lasted for a moment before he headed toward the small fridge at the corner of the kitchen. "I made some sandwiches earlier for us if that's all right for you?"
"Yeah, perfect."
Hermione set the table as Harry got out the plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for them to share, and they sat down to eat. Harry met Hermione's gaze across the table, and Hermione flushed as she realised she'd been staring.
"What?" Harry cocked his head.
"Oh, nothing—it's just, you look really good."
"Oh, really?" Harry's eyes twinkled and Hermione's cheeks went scarlet.
"I didn't mean that-"
"So I don't look good, then?"
"Oh, stop it." Hermione shook her head and attempted to hide behind her sandwich.
Harry grinned. "Stop what?"
"I simply meant you looked happy." Hermione gestured to the room and tried to ignore how hot her face was. "This kind of work must agree with you."
"Yeah," Harry nodded and Hermione let out a breath of relief. "It's been surprising, but yeah—I've enjoyed working on the house. You won't have to put up with me much longer."
"You haven't been a bother," Hermione said. She took a sip of pumpkin juice, then she pursed her lips. "And there's no need to rush—you still have a lot of work to do."
"Oh yeah, I know I've got a ways to go, but it mainly just needs to be livable for me to move in. It shouldn't be much longer now. Maybe a couple of weeks."
"Oh." Hermione's stomach sank, but she didn't know why. She should be happy that Harry was moving on, and it wasn't like she wouldn't ever see him again once he was living full time at Grimmauld Place.
She took a bite of her sandwich and pushed her uneasiness away. "Do you think you'll go back to work soon?"
"I'm not sure." Harry was still looking at Hermione but his gaze seemed to drift and his forehead crinkled. "I don't know if I want to be an Auror anymore."
"I'm sure you could always apply to be Head of the Department again," Hermione said, but Harry shook his head before she finished speaking.
"No, no. I definitely don't want that."
"Why not?"
"Same reason why I stepped down in the first place," Harry said and he took a swallow of pumpkin juice as Hermione gave him a look. "What? I never told you?"
Hermione shook her head with a wry smile.
"Oh—it was because Lily was coming up in the program. It was hard enough to assign Ron cases sometimes, even when I knew I never gave him anything he couldn't handle, but it was Ron, and I couldn't go with him and be his partner, and the thought of doing the same with Lily—she's my daughter." Harry glanced at his plate. "I knew I wouldn't be able to handle that."
"You could always assign her cases that wouldn't be so dangerous," Hermione said, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was a bad suggestion. Harry's scoff confirmed it.
"Right. Have you met my daughter?" Harry shook his head and chuckled lightly. "I swear, her temper's worse than Ginny's and if she even thought for a moment I was showing her favouritism or trying to protect her-" Harry looked at Hermione. "Well, what would you do if you were an Auror and I kept passing you up for cases that I thought were too dangerous?"
"I see your point," Hermione said, knowing full well the answer: she would have marched into his office, given him a piece of her mind, then slapped him for good measure.
Hermione was glad she'd never decided to become an Auror.
"So why don't you want to go back to at least working in the field? You loved being an Auror."
"I know, but I'm not so sure…Lily's just starting out, and maybe it would be better for her if her dad wasn't around."
"I'm sure she doesn't feel that way."
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Right now, I'm pretty sure she does. She's not speaking to me at the moment."
"Oh," Hermione said, and then Al's conversation with Harry earlier started to make more sense. "Lily blames you."
"Yeah," Harry said, and he toyed with the crusts of his sandwich. "And Al blames Ginny. I think James is just…disappointed."
Harry stood up to clear the dishes and Hermione rose to help, but Harry waved her off.
"It'll get better," Hermione said. Harry headed toward the sink, his back to her. "Rose and Hugo had a hard time at first—they were younger, but still old enough to understand what was going on, and they got through it."
"Sometimes I think," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if I'm doing the right thing…if I shouldn't have just-"
"Oh, Harry." Hermione flew to Harry's side at the counter and reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "No. You weren't happy."
Harry turned to face her, his green eyes shining with something that Hermione didn't recognise; her breath caught.
"You don't regret it? Ever?"
"No." Hermione shook her head, though her gaze never left his. "You're doing the right thing. You deserve to be happy."
"I don't know," Harry said, and somehow Hermione expected him to look away, but he didn't. His eyes searched hers and Hermione knew she was an open book to Harry. She never could hide anything from him, not from the first moment she'd met him forty years ago.
"Well I do," she whispered. Harry smiled suddenly, and automatically her lips curved to match his.
"You always were a know-it-all."
Harry brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles and Hermione let out a nervous laugh. She was having trouble catching her breath, and Harry seemed too close, like maybe he was moving closer or pulling her closer, and his other hand was on her waist, and she wasn't sure when that had happened. She tightened her grip on his shoulder; suddenly her knees couldn't support her weight and she thought that she might fall, that the only reason she was still upright was because Harry slid his arm around her back and all she could see was his lips and his green eyes penetrating hers, and she held her breath; his tongue darted out over his lips and then-
A chime rang through Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Harry both jumped back at the same time, and Hermione immediately grabbed the counter top, breathing rapidly.
"What was that?"
"Someone's on the stoop." Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair and it was a comfort to know that he seemed just as jittery as she felt. She wasn't exactly sure if she'd meant her question to be about the chime, but she was relieved that Harry had interpreted it that way.
And sure enough, whoever was on the stoop knocked on the front door a moment later.
"I'll just go see who it is," Harry said, and Hermione barely had a chance to nod before Harry left the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, she sank into the nearest chair and let out a ragged breath.
What was that, indeed.
She took another deep breath as she heard the front door open. She tried to get a hold of herself, and quickly at that, but her body thrummed with adrenaline and her thoughts were whirling too fast for any of them to make any sense. And before she could even try she recognised the deep rumbling voice greeting Harry.
It was Ron.
Hermione bolted from the chair and headed down the hallway.
"…told me you might be here."
"Oh yeah, Hermione and I were just-"
"Having lunch," Hermione interrupted, slightly breathless, and her cheeks burned as Harry turned to look at her. Hermione chose to look at Ron instead. "Harry was showing me the progress he's made—it's quite a difference in here, don't you think?"
Hermione was already heading over to grab her cloak before either Ron or Harry had a chance to answer.
"I should go though. I've got some errands to run," Hermione said, pulling the cloak around her. "And you two should talk."
She met Harry's eyes for a split second before looking down to fiddle with her clasp.
"All right," Harry said, his voice hesitant. "I'll see you later on at your flat, then?"
"Yes, and Al, too, if he stops by. Good to see you, Ron." Hermione risked one more glance at Harry before she gave Ron a quick smile and headed outside.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Hermione leaned against it and closed her eyes with a sigh.
-tbc-
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